#putting this in the “pieces that took 6 hours for some reason” folder

[ishibishie]

i've been enjoying drawing him as of late <3

[ecto-american]

Humanity

Upon their arrest by the GIW together, Valerie learns something interesting about Phantom and herself that make her question just how human both herself and Phantom are.

note that this isn’t a phic phight thing, just something i wrote literally months ago for Lexx but forgot that i wrote

on FFN and AO3

----------------

They didn't even have the decency to arrest her before Mr. Lancer's class. Being arrested for...well, the Guys in White were never really clear as to why they showed up to Casper High to arrest her. But whatever the reason, that would have been one hell of an excuse as to why she was not just missing, but why she couldn't turn in that book report that she not only didn't do, but hadn't even read a single page of yet. Valerie had an inkling she knew why, but she remained completely silent the entire march out the front doors of the school. She wasn't an idiot after all.

The agent to her left opened the door, and the agent to her right put his hand on her head to duck her into the white SUV. The door closed, and Valerie glanced to see just how tinted the windows were, as well as the police-style framing of the windows and the separation between the driver and passenger as well as the backseat dwellers.

"Oh, I was wondering why we stopped here."

That familiar voice made her jump, and she turned to see Phantom. He was in the exact same predicament. Hands behind his back, leaning against the seat, though she could immediately tell that his handcuffs were much clunkier and glowed. Obviously anti-ghost.

"You!" Valerie hissed. She immediately leaned into the window, lifting her leg up, and she began to kick him repeatedly. "What the hell are you doing here!?"

"Ow!" Phantom hissed as she got him in the shoulder, and then his rib. She didn't stop, and she didn't miss. "AH! Fuck, stop it! OW!"

"Knock it off!" one of the agents boomed. The sudden, strict tone made Valerie pause. She kicked him one more time, square in the face, before finally stopping.

Phantom made a weird wheezing noise, and she saw him shift to rub his nose on his upper arm and shoulder. He frowned.

"My nose is bleeding," he complained.

"I hope your nose is broken!" Valerie snapped back at him.

Phantom glared at her. He made a weird noise in his throat, and it took Valerie a moment to realize what he was doing. Preparing spit. And indeed, the ghost teen stuck his tongue out, drool instantly dripping, and he leaned in. Valerie instantly leaned away from him.

"Ew! Gross! Get away from me!" she complained.

"Nu-uh!" Phantom replied, his tongue still out as he continued to scoot. He got close enough to open his mouth, and some of his saliva dripped onto her knee.

"Gross, gross, gross!" she shrieked. Valerie kicked him in the side, and Phantom let out a pained wheeze.

"Knock. It. Off," the other agent snapped at them. They had gotten into the driver and passenger's seat, and both were glaring at them.

"She started it!" Phantom accused. The driver frowned at him, obviously not amused. Phantom scooted back to his side of the backseat. Valerie stayed pressed against the window and door. She could hear the drive mutter something about hating kids before turning the vehicle on, and they drove off.

--------------------------

They made the duo sit in the interrogation room for three hours, according to the clock. They had, thankfully, just connected the teenagers to the table via a long chain and handcuffs, so that they could at least be a bit more comfortable, even though Phantom, and for some reason her, were both given anti-ghost bracelets to wear. A box of tissues were also tossed onto the table, and Phantom had spent the first half hour tending to his bloodied nose. He stuffed all the used tissues, grossly, into his pocket, though she suspected why he did that. It had his DNA on it.

Phantom nor her attempted conversation. Neither were stupid. They essentially stared at each other and the walls, their only words were occasional out-loud wondering of when somebody was going to show up to question them already.

Obviously her more pressing question was why the hell they were still together. For some reason, Phantom was with her every step of the way of their weird little field trip. They got escorted in together, processed together, and now were sat at the exact same interrogation table. Why? She had absolutely no idea. Didn't they normally separate people they arrested?

At exactly 6:38 PM, somebody finally opened the door, and she and Phantom sat straight up.

The agent that sat before them was a large man, muscular and tall with big hands and sunglasses that fully blocked any chance of the teens from seeing what he was looking at.

"We know you're both half-ghost."

Valerie's mind instantly went to Vlad. That must have been what he was...she had been debating with herself for weeks now as to what he was. A ghost disguised as a human? A human who had ghost powers?

She pushed those aside to look at Phantom. To her surprise, he was pale. Nearly as white as his hair, with anxiety sweat drops beginning to form. Her interest peaked instantly. Silence hung in the air. The man said nothing, simply keeping his attention intensely on them. Valerie

"That's ridiculous," Valerie finally said something. She nearly added that the entire idea itself was ridiculous too. Well, it kind of was. It was so weird to grasp, but it wasn't really something that she wanted to think too hard about these days, and especially now. There was nothing more that she'd love to do than to throw that manipulative old bastard under the weird half-ghost freak bus. However, not only was it probably not a good idea to start beef with a literal superpowered-villain billionaire...but Dani was still out there.

"Don't lie to me." The man sounded agitated. "Both of your ectoplasmic readings are abnormal."

Ectoplasmic reading? Her? Valerie stared at him as if he had grown a second head.

"I shouldn't have any ectoplasmic reading," she pointed out. "I'm alive. Alive people don't have ectoplasmic readings."

The man opened up his folder, pulling out a few choice pieces of papers to slide her way. Phantom silently watched them, his eyes wide and his face looking utterly blank yet...so fearful. Valerie opted to ignore him for a while, accepting the papers to hold as she read through them.

She was familiar with how to read ectoplasmic readings, charts and monitors by now. Green eyes scanned the data, frowning in confusion as she checked the details, and she could see out of the corner of her eye Phantom leaning in to read too. She adjusted her position so that he couldn't.

This description was definitely her, and...she was giving off ectoplasmic readings. Not really in the same way as a normal ghost; there was something distinctively different about hers that any set of trained eyes could pick up on. But how?

"I don't understand," Valerie spoke slowly. "I'm alive." She put the documents back down on the table. "You can take a swap or slap some ghost goop stuff on me. Hell, prick my finger." Valerie held her palm out to the man. Her anti-ghost bracelet sparkled a bit in the light of the room. At least she now knew why they made her wear the bracelets too. "I'm not dead."

The interviewer stared intently at her hand. He gave a neutral hum of acknowledgement, swooping the papers back up.

"Testing and experiments will be reserved for a later time," he replied. Valerie got instant goosebumps. Testing and experiments? "Maybe a few hours in holding will help you realize why you should just come clean to us."

"Can I get some water first?" Valerie asked. The agent snorted in amusement as he stood up.

"Ghosts don't eat or drink."

She felt numb, and she had no idea how to respond to that. Two more agents came into the room, and they silently took the teenagers further into the building until they reached a door. The third agent opened it, and Phantom and Valerie were ushered inside.

The room almost immediately led into bars, and the first thing Valerie could think of was just how much it looked like jail. Two uncomfortable looking bunk beds on either side, a toilet in the middle, a small sink, and no windows. The light was dim, and the room was cold.

Phantom was pushed in first, and then Valerie, and the bars clunked as they closed. She turned to see the bars begin to glow as the bars were locked.

And there was no goodbyes. The agents were eerily silent as they filed out, and the door was shut behind them. She could hear the faint click as it also locked.

Valerie turned to see Phantom's reaction, and he still looked shaken and pale. She already suspected the answer, but she needed to hear it.

"So...are you?" Valerie asked.

"No!" Phantom's answer was way too quick. "What about you? Don't you hate ghosts?"

"I'm not half ghost!" she snapped back. "I have no clue why they'd think that."

Phantom studied her for a moment. His eyes lit up.

"Your suit!" he declared. "The one Technus gave you. It must make your reading wonky."

The second he reminded her, she felt a cold shiver. Suddenly her heartbeat felt off, and she assumed she was colder than usual because of...ya know. That couldn't be true. It had to be wonky readings. The suit was so nice...so much nicer than the suit that she had made herself. It was so much more powerful, so much nicer, just flat out cooler.

She put her heart over her chest. She still had a heartbeat, right?

"What's your excuse?" she asked. Phantom didn't say anything. He turned his attention to the wall, staring blankly at it.

"...Why would they let us stay trapped in here together?" Phantom changed the subject. Valerie narrowed her eyes at him, but she had to admit. It was a good point. "Especially knowing that we'd just plot our escape together."

"Pump the breaks, Phantom. I'm not escaping," Valerie scoffed. "They'll realize their mistake and just let me go."

"Well, they're not gonna let me go," Phantom frowned. "The Guys in White don't exactly play nice with ghosts. And I'm not leaving without you."

"Not my problem," Valerie replied. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Unless...of course there's a reason for it to be my problem."

"You can't just do it out of the kindness of your heart?" Phantom sounded sarcastic, despite staring at her desperately. Valerie crossed her arms. "Please?"

"Give me one good reason to escape with you."

And thus began a staring contest. Phantom shifted from foot to foot, and he glanced at the floor. A lightbulb made the realization click. The GIW knew her identity. They arrested her at school. But they didn't know Phantom's. Nobody probably did. This was likely a ploy to get them to reveal themselves to each other. How or why, Valerie wasn't sure. But now it was glaringly obvious to her.

Phantom was half-ghost. Just like Dani. Just like Vlad. The Guys in White don't play nice with ghosts, and she had a strong feeling that they didn't care much about playing nice with humans either. Especially if they suspected that there was ghost within them.

"Nevermind," Valerie sighed. Phantom stared at her, and he...looked scared. "I can destroy ghosts…" But I really can't take part in destroying a human.

Phantom grew a bit pale again, as they both knew the unspoken words. He took a deep, shaky breath. His reaction was all she needed to know, that this wasn't some weird lie or ploy.

"So. What's our game plan?" he asked.

Valerie studied their surroundings. She reached out to touch the bars of their shared cell, taking immediate note that she wasn't shocked.

"Well, obviously there's that big shield outside," Valerie lightly mused.

"I can get past that shield," Phantom spoke up. "Under the...right circumstances."

Valerie nodded. If Phantom was able to turn human away from the prying eyes of cameras and more, they could both obviously escape right out the front door. Hell, they could likely utilize both Phantom and his? Human? Side? Whatever he was called.

"This facility was designed for ghosts, not humans," Phantom continued. "If we worked together, we can probably make a quick exit." Valerie hummed in agreement.

"That's not just enough," Valerie replied. "I'll just get arrested again. They know who I am. Like, they know Valerie Gray is the huntress." Phantom frowned, and he thought for a moment.

"We could maybe delete their evidence files or something?" he suggested. Valerie paced their cell for a moment.

"There has to be some kind of computer security room somewhere," Valerie spoke aloud to herself. "If we can find it, we can probably wipe evidence and also fully take down the shield."

Phantom leaned against the back wall of the cell.

"I don't think that's enough," he replied. Valerie stopped pacing to stare at him. "We need to make sure the Guys in White don't do this again. Ever. Never even have the chance to get to this point again." Valerie scowled.

"They help hunt ghosts!" she protested.

"And they'd consider Danielle a ghost and rip her to shreds," Phantom countered. The reminder of that little girl hit her straight in the gut. She sighed.

"I don't know," she said slowly.

"They're a government organization, they'll rebuild," Phantom pushed. "We just need to stall them long enough to buy time for us to figure out how to keep you, Danielle and I safe."

She hated it, but...yeah. She wasn't really in the best position either. Valerie had no clue what was going on with her, but the Guys in White were incredibly persistent...and she knew her dad wouldn't be able to afford a lawyer for her anymore.

Valerie held her wrist up. Her suit's bracelet was basically hidden underneath the anti-ghost one, but she could still feel it there. Her suit wasn't gone. She could still access it, and that made her feel more confident in that she was still human. Which she had to be. Right?

Valerie activated her suit, and she held her wrist up to read the screen. She pressed a few buttons.

"I think I can figure out a map of this place," she said. "And from there we can see where's what."

Her forearm glowed brightly as it gathered data. It took a few moments of calculating, but soon, she had her results. Phantom was soon peering over her shoulder, both of them studying the map.

"How accurate is this?" Phantom questioned.

"It tends to be fairly decent. Sometimes it's hit or miss with collapsed buildings, but overall it's spot on," she replied. She adjusted the screen, zooming it out. "I can only get the floor we're on though."

"That looks like it could be some kind of utility room," Phantom pointed to a specific room. Valerie zoomed in on it, studying it.

"Yeah," she said slowly. "Yeah. Gotta be. It's got a lot of power coming to or from there. Has to be a source, or at the very least some kind of major technology area."

"Either way, we should destroy it," Phantom said. Valerie frowned.

"I don't know," she hesitated.

"I mean, you can't even summon your powers."

Phantom glanced down at his wrists, glancing curiously at them before setting his sights on Valerie's arms.

"Can you shoot them off?" he asked.

Valerie tried to summon one of her weapons. She waited. And she waited. Nothing came, and her gut became queasy. She couldn't get her ghost weapon. None of them would summon. This had to be a bad sign. Or was it just the GIW prepared against humans too? That was the most logical explanation. She couldn't be…But also she could be...after all the ectoplasmic readings...

"Um, actually, I think I can…" Phantom's voice caused her to truly look at him again. The ghost was fiddling with his wristbands, using his knees to lock it in place as he attempted to slip his wrist through the band with no success.

"Here, let me try," Valerie interrupted him. Phantom glanced up at her.

"Can you shoot them?" he asked. Valerie forced a weak smile, but she held up a screwdriver.

"Got something even better. My travel tool kit," she replied. After too many breakdowns in the field, she had replaced a small pouch that previously held smoke bombs, something she rarely used, with a few small tools. It was easily one of the best choices she made.

Phantom held his wrist out to her, and she turned the bracelet around. Eventually she managed to pry a piece of the metallic covering off, exposing screws and a few wires. Valerie didn't undo or cut anything right away, both her and Phantom silently trying to make sense of the connection and mechanics behind it. Would really suck to find out the hard way that disconnecting a certain wire would trigger an alarm, after all.

"I think you shouldn't touch the red wire," Phantom lightly mused. "Pretty sure that's a power, and if you turn it off it'll be bad news."

"Mmm, yeah," Valerie agreed. "I think I can just unscrew this though, and we should just be careful to not slip the wires off."

Phantom nodded, and he waited patiently as she did just so. After twenty minutes of careful disconnecting, Phantom had two hands free, and he flexed his hands with a happy sigh.

"God, that just feels so much better," he told her. He motioned for her to hand him the screwdriver. "Here, I'll do yours." Valerie shook her head.

"I can't leave. I won't say anything if you escape, but they know my identity."

Phantom frowned.

"I'm not leaving you here. Come on, you saw your map. We can destroy their power. We can destroy this entire building," he began, only for Valerie to cut him off.

"And do more destruction? Is that all you think about?" she snapped. "You're safe. They know my identity. You want me to get more charges or something? I can't risk it. I'll just stay here. They'll figure out soon enough that I'm fully human." A full human who apparently had mixed logic as to whether or not they could use their ghost hunting suit. If she was fully human, she could summon those weapons, right? Unless it was specifically preventing any ghost weapon, regardless of the user, use it.

"Red, I don't think you understand," Phantom told her. "They're not going to go easy on you. Even if you prove you're human, they're not going to believe you. You heard them. They already denied you contact to the outside world."

That reminder sent a chill down her spine.

"Then tell my dad," she told him. Phantom stared at her. He began to unzip his suit, and she instantly began to look away. "Dude, what the hell?"

"Valerie, look at me," he demanded.

"You're naked!" she protested.

"I'm not naked, just look."

She decided to humor him with the intention of taking a quick peek. But when she saw him, she felt a cold sweat hit her. Phantom had only zipped enough to expose his chest, and there was a distinctive Y-patterned scar on his chest that stood out against the other scars.

"This is what happened last time I was trapped here. I'm not going to leave you alone here," he stated. He suddenly looked away, and he quickly zipped his suit back up. "There's no way in hell I'm going to risk this happening to you. Red, you need to come with me."

That urgent gut feeling of needing to go finally crashed into her. The GIW would never believe her. Not just because of stubbornness, but...Valerie herself wasn't even sure anymore.

She swallowed dryly, and she nodded. Her right wrist was offered to him.

"Do you know what to do?" she asked. Phantom scowled.

"I just watched you do it," he reminded her. She rolled her eyes, but held her wrist up for him, and a half hour later, she too, was free.

She wasn't sure if she was more concerned or relieved to instantly feel that distinctive rush of power back. The second Phantom removed her bracelet, she knew that she could summon any of her ghost weapons now at her fingertips. But she could still summon her suit regardless, and activate her GPS abilities. Was this normal? Valerie had no clue what this meant anymore.

"So, next step, I think we can escape through here."

Valerie looked up to see Phantom was now floating by the vent at the top of their cell. He was already using her screwdriver to undo the vent cover. She pulled her map back up on her forearm, glancing at it and studying it.

"I'm pretty sure the vent will go straight to that electric room," she told him.

"Oh, now you're finally seeing the big picture?" Phantom lightly teased, glancing over his shoulder as he popped the vent cover off. She nodded at him, but didn't crack a smile.

"...You and Dani may look just alike, but I never want you two to have matching scars," she said. Phantom's smile dropped, and he nodded in agreement.

He placed the vent covering on the top bunk, handing Valerie back her screwdriver. She slipped it back in it's pouch.

"Here, I'll give you a boost up," Phantom offered, pressing his hands together. She nodded, stepping a foot onto his hand. With ease, Phantom pushed her up, and she grabbed onto the vent, pulling herself in. It was surprisingly fairly roomy yet not, and she managed to get comfortable on her stomach, pulling her map back up.

"Ready to commit several federal crimes?" Phantom's voice half joked. She looked behind her the best she could to see the ghost right behind her. She snorted in amusement.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she replied. "Just follow me. It's time to give these idiots hell."

And hell they did. Who knew that the Guys in Whites headquarters could cause such a colorful explosion.

[ill-be-your-honey-bri]

Call Me

I honestly am not a hundred percent sure where this fic had developed from but I thought it was an interesting plot that could have been manipulated many ways. and of course your girl went put smut mode on this one. 

That being said, the only warnings I have for you is smut, smut, smut, and some more smut. 

Don’t forget to like, repost, comment. You feed back means everything to me and I love seeing what you all like and don't fancy. 

Please enjoy and all my love,

I present to you, Escort Harry.

You were sitting at your dinette on the balcony of your penthouse, exceptionally frustrated. Sipping on your now cold coffee and pulling a cigarette from the gold case that was housing it. You lit the end with the matching gold lighter, slamming it on the table as you inhaled the nicotine to calm your nerves. You expelled the smoke from your lungs with an exaggerated sigh before picking up your phone to re-evaluate the email you just received.

Ms. Y/L/N,

You are cordially invited to the annual Forbes fundraiser for young entrepreneurs, blah blah blah…

Being that you own your own major company that has been featured in Forbes, blah blah blah.

We are expecting your attendance along with your plus one…

A plus one…

Well you are fucked now, aren’t you? You couldn’t remember the last time you had a ‘plus one’. You, this woman, fiercely independent, who built a company from the ground up on your own, and now you are expected to have a date to a fundraiser that you are being forced to go to.

You did the only thing you could think of at that moment.

You pull up Claudia’s number in your contacts, closing your silk robe over your nightgown while you put the phone to your ear and inhale the last puff from your cigarette before stamping it out in the marble ashtray.

The phone rings as you walk through the French doors from your balcony into your dining room, taking the last sip of your coffee before placing your mug on the dark mahogany dining room table.

“Hello, Y/N. To what do I owe the pleasure on this lovely morning at, fuck me, five forty?”

“Thank fucking god you’re awake!”

“Well, I wasn’t but —”

“Did you get that Forbes email too?” You put your phone on speaker while you pulled the email up for the millionth time that morning.

“I did,” Claudia said around a yawn.

“What is this shit with a fucking plus one? When has that ever been a requirement for these things?!”

You could hear her rustling around her bed, “I’m sure some man put it together and wanted to make sure everyone and the pope saw his new arm candy.”

“It’s ridiculous! Some of us don’t have time to have a ‘plus one’!” You sat on your suede sectional, curling your bare feet under your bum. Your long haired black cat jumped up and cuddled into your lap, both melting into comfort.

“I lay claim to Derek, he already said he would go with me.”

You began to stroke your cat’s ear, “Yeah well, you’re fucking Derek, so…”

“I can’t help that your assistant is young and hot, chickee. And so fucking good in bed…” Claudia began to stretch, letting out a moan.

“Thanks for that. Now what the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Don’t you have any friends? Second cousins?”

You stopped your petting, your fur baby giving out a little mew in protest, “First of all, ew. No family. Second of all, I don’t have time for friends. I have you because we have worked together for years.” You let out a frustrated sigh and went back to petting the angel on your lap. “What the fuck am I going to do, Claud?”

You could hear Claudia clunking around her kitchen, attempting to make her latte, cursing at her espresso maker. “Why not hire someone?”

You stopped your petting again, Lady getting annoyed and deciding to jump off your lap. “What do you mean, hire someone?”

“You know,” Claudia hissed after burning her tongue on her hot beverage, “like one of those sexy male escorts. You pay them and they are a nice piece of jewelry for the night.”

“Where do you come up with this shit?”

“That old bag that is always at these events, donates a shit ton and then falls asleep halfway through dinner? You know the one.”

You hum in understanding because you do know the one. Her overuse of minks and emeralds at every event, her hackneyed Chanel No. 5. Oh, and her dentures fell into her champagne flute last year. Yeah, that one.

“Do you really think that the strapping young hunk with her is actually her significant other?”

“I thought that it could be her grandson, maybe.”

“Oh hell no! She hired the boy! I hope she got her money’s worth, if you know what I’m saying...”

Claudia began to laugh as you started to make gagging noises. You sat there, thinking of any other option and you really couldn’t think of one.

“Let me do my research and I will email you the links. But babe, relax. We will figure something out, yeah? You can take my little brother if you need to.”

“No offense Claud, but I don’t really want to present to an event with a 17 year old and be labeled a pedophile… Thank you for helping me, truly.”

“Any time, sweets. Now go mastuarbate before you get ready for work. Got a big meeting today and need you to be calm and relaxed for it.”

“Jesus, Claud!”

“See you soon!” Claudia blowing you a kiss over the line before she hangs up.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You walked into your office with your go to Starbucks order in hand. Derek was sitting on the couch that was off to the side of your office, set up as a little meeting area with a set of armchairs and a coffee table in the center. Derek was sipping on his green smoothie and setting up your agenda for the day.

“I don’t know how you drink that shit. You’re basically grazing in the pasture,” as you take another sip of your overpriced corporate beverage.

“It is an energy boosting smoothie, thank you very much. It’s from the local smoothie place around the corner, it’s family owned.”

“Well good for you bud, but for me, it is about convenience and there are at least 50 Starbucks stores from home to here. A beautiful marketing plan if you ask me.” You smiled before taking another sip then placing it in its rightful place on your desk as you sit to turn on your computer and start your day. Derek stands up and places your daily planner in front of you.

“You have that big meeting today with the business partners. Claudia said she will be here in half an hour to help prep. And I have a list of escort services for you.” He had a folder in hand extended towards you.

You peered up at him, “Fucking Claudia.”

He began to smile and give a light chuckle, “Fucking Claudia. She never knows when to keep her mouth shut. There are a few men she had picked out as well, said she ‘knows what you like’. She will email you the links to their profiles.”

And sure enough, you get an email from her with an eggplant emoji as the subject of the email. You quickly exit the email, pulling up the documents you need for the meeting.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After getting home from dealing with arrogant, self centered pricks in meetings all day, you knew you needed to treat yourself to a relaxing bubble bath.

You ignored dinner, going straight to your wine rack and grabbed the first bottle handy. You filled the glass and began sipping at the sweet nectar as you were walking to the master bedroom. You padded your way to the en-suite to begin filling the claw foot bathtub. You added some vanilla rose bath melts and let the aroma fill your lungs before returning back to your bedroom.

You step into your walk-in closest to begin undressing, putting your jewelry in their rightful place and hanging the garments that need to go to the dry cleaners. After stripping, you throw on your silk robe and pull your hair up before walking back to the bathroom. You grab your phone and wine along the way, finding your ‘bubble bath’ playlist, which you connected to the Bluetooth that you had installed in your bathroom.

You put your wine and phone on the shelf next to the tub and hung the silk robe before melting into the warm embrace of the milky water. Lady had hopped up onto the counter to keep you company.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath and lean your head on to the bath pillow before slowly exhaling the air from your lips. You were finally starting to relax when the incessant thought about the fundraiser reared it’s nasty head at the forefront of your mind.

You look to Lady, who is curled up on the sink counter, the sound of Ol’ Blue Eyes lulling her to sleep. You take another deep breath before grabbing your phone and opening up that email.

Reinhardt, Claudia

Subject: 🍆

So, this company seems the most legit and had the best reviews on multiple sites. Overall, had the best looking dudes too. I picked out a few that I thought that you would like, you know, best friends and all. I will only be slightly offended if you don’t pick one of my gentleman callers.

Good luck chickee! xo

You took another sip of wine before opening the links to these ‘gentleman callers’ pages.

Travis; he was cute in a ‘use to be a skater’ kind of way. Had some muscle, a decent smile. Age, 26. Perfect. Height, 5’3”. Well, that won’t work. You close out his link and go to the next one.

Bret; could be a model with the blue eyes, black hair look and a jaw that could cut glass. You sit up slightly, scrolling down further into his profile. Age; 19. Fuck no. You quickly close the link and go to the next one.

You go through a few more and you begin to feel hopeless. They were all good looking but none of them sparked the desire to take them to an event where you will be spending endless hours with them.

You were officially going to give up until you saw that there was only one link left.

Harry; this guy can’t be real. Beautiful green eyes, silky curly hair, a really cute smile with dimples. The perfect amount of muscle. You held your breath as you continued to read his profile.

Age; 24. You could handle that.

Height; 6 foot. Perfect.

Reason why you joined this company; Honestly, I’m getting my masters in business at Columbia University. A scholarship and work study can only pay so much of the tuition. So he is smart and can talk about business if needed.

What can you bring to the table for your date; I’m personable and will make friends with anyone in a room. I’m the perfect date for a work related event because I can talk about anything. If you chose me, I promise, you won’t regret it.

You took the last bit of your wine as your finger hovered over the message icon. “I better not regret this…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry just got home to his rundown studio apartment from his day working in the college library. He threw his backpack on his mismatching dining set before striding into the kitchen to heat up leftover Chinese. He threw the container into the microwave and began to strip on his way to his bed. He pulled on a pair of old grey sweatpants and went back into the kitchen to retrieve his food and a beer.

He climbed into his bed and turned on the TV, throwing on Family Guy before digging into his food. He got up at one point to get his phone that he left in his jacket, where he couldn’t remember where he threw it.

After finding it, he climbs back into bed and continues to stuff his cheeks with lo mein. He unlocks his phone to see he has some texts, a few emails, a bunch of messages on his Tinder app that he has been ignoring and a new message on his work email. Not the library job, but the job that no one knows about.

He gets emails regularly on his work email. Usually older women who want to make a statement at an event. Like “I’m still young. Look at the young man with me.” He doesn’t mind it because they pay a shit ton for him to just sit there and look pretty, but it gets boring. He would rather work overnight at the library and he is pretty sure it is haunted.

He opens the message and he sees your name. He drops his Chinese container into his lap, cursing at the grease stains that are now on his sweats.

He knows you. He knows you very well. He has written multiple research papers on your work, how you built a company on your own. He’s even rubbed one out to you a few times because your so fucking beautiful and unbelievebly smart.

Harry,

I apologize for how this message reads; I have never done such a thing before.

I have an event for a Forbes fundraiser and we are required to bring a plus one. Unfortunately, I do not have one and need to go to such lengths as to hiring one.

I have read your profile, multiple times if we are being honest, and I feel that you are best suited for the situation.

If you accept my offer, I will pay you handsomely and will schedule you with my tailor to get a suit for the event. Anything involved will be taken care of by me, you will just need to present by my side.

Please let me know if you accept my offer in a timely fashion.

All the best, Y/N Y/L/N

Harry’s mouth was gaping like a fish. You, you, need a date to an event and you asked him. He must be dreaming. He rereads the email a million times and tries to compose himself enough to respond.

Ms. Y/L/N,

It would be an honor to be by your side. Please let me know where I need to be and when and I promise, I will not let you down.

Harry

A few moments after sending the email he got notifications of events being added to his calendar. The first thing was his appointment with your tailor tomorrow morning.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry was standing outside the tailor’s shop, being a few minutes early and the door was locked. He could hear the clicking of heels and heard a familiar voice. You had presented at Colombia for seminars multiple times, considering it was your Alma Mater. He knew that voice because he attended every seminar that you were a speaker at.

You had your phone in one hand with your designer purse in the crook of the arm that was holding your phone. You had a tray with a few coffees in the other hand. He thought you looked powerful and beautiful in your burgundy blazer with a black tank top tucked into your houndstooth black and white trousers. A gold Gucci belt pulling the whole look together.

You smiled at him as you told whomever you were talking to that you had to go and that you will call them back. He about melted into a puddle when he heard you call his name.

He nodded with a smile while you put your phone in your purse and coordinated the drinks so that you were able to extend a hand to shake Harry’s. Your hand was so soft, he never wanted to let go.

“Thank you for being able to do this so quickly. The event is this weekend and I wanted to make sure that your suit was done in time.” You were smiling at him the whole time, like you have been friends for a lifetime.

“It’s no problem at all.” He smiled back as you took in a good look at him, seeming to be pleased with your choice. He unconsciously stood up straighter and clasped his hands behind his back as you turned to press the buzzer of the store front.

The door unlocked and he quickly grabbed the door to allow you to walk in first, as you gave your thanks. You strutted in like you owned the place and Harry could feel his cock twitch in his jeans watching you own the room.

A beautiful person was standing there waiting for you with gorgeous red flowing hair. They looked angelic with their light and soft features.

“Harris darling, this is Harry. You will be working with him on finding the perfect suit and tailoring it like the artist you are.” You sat on the white sofa, handing out coffees to the people around you, including Harry.

“I didn’t know how you liked your coffee, so I got it black but I have cream and sugar if you need it.” You pulled out the little paper bag the cafe had given you with the coffee fixings from your purse.

“Black is perfect, thank you.”

You smiled up at him as you handed him his coffee, he gladly took a seat next to you as Harris handed the two of you their portfolio.

“These are what I have in the shop now and the fabrics in the back are what I have at home, if you would prefer one of those.”

Harry scooted a little closer to get a better look that you quickly took notice of, so you moved so that the portfolio sat on both of your laps while your thighs touched. Harry’s breath hitched when he felt the contact but quickly brushed it off to continue looking at the beautiful suits.

“Is my dress done by chance? I would love to do the final fitting today as well.”

“Of course. I also have a few ideas of suits for you Harry that would go with the dress. Not so matchy-matchy, but to make sure you don’t clash.”

“Let’s try those, hm?” You looked at Harry with a sweet smile. All he could do was gaulp and nod.

You put the portfolio on the table in front of you before taking your blazer off and laying it delicately on the arm of the couch. You stood up and began to wander around, looking at Harris’ fall collection.

“I can’t wait to see these on the models. Absolutely stunning, Harris.”

“Wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, my love.” You smiled as you continued to explore.

Harry couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were so ethereal in your movements, so effortless. You seemed so gentle and he has only been around you for a few moments. He has always known you as a strong willed, fierce, badass woman. But now, he sees you as delicate porcelain. Not in a way that you could easily be broken, he doesn’t think that could ever be the case. But in the way that you need to be taken care of and adored fondly.

Harry was pulled out of his trance when Harris returned with an armful of suits, calling Harry to the dressing room. Harris helped him with trying them on, all of them being breathtaking.

You had gone into your dressing room with Harris’ assistant helping you put on your gown. You were never one for flash at events, so you asked for a simple black gown with some red detailing, red being your power color. You wore red lipstick or a red pair of heels to every event, so people would be expecting it.

You had walked out as did Harry and he was frozen. The black gown had off the shoulder straps and a sweetheart neckline, showing off your silky decolletage. It had a hip-high slit on your left leg showing off the delicious meat of your thigh, your heels making your legs look even longer. It was form fitting around the torso and hips with the fabric draping beautifully around you, cascading softly around your feet. The bottom of the gown and around the bust was detailed with delicate red stitching, creating a floral design.

And you couldn’t take your eyes off Harry. His suit was the same blood red as your stitching. The floral details of his suit were stitched in black and he had a black button up underneath with the top few buttons undone. Harris had already pinned the suit so it fit him perfectly. His thighs looked strong and thick, his shoulders broad. He was exceptionally handsome.

Harris squealed with how amazing you both looked and you matched without it being obnoxious. Harris walked you to the platform so he could do his final fitting on you. You and Harry couldn’t stop looking at each other in the mirror, the eye contact being strong and unwavering. The only thing that pulled you out of your trance was when Harris called your name to tell you he was done with you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After getting back into your work clothes, you kissed Harris goodbye and Harry shook their hand. You told Harris that Derek will pick up the garments Saturday morning before the event.

Harry held the door open for you and let you walk on to the sidewalk first. You started pulling out your phone to check it, quickly turning off the screen before looking up at Harry.

“Do you need a ride? I walked here from my office but it isn’t far, I can drop you off.” You stood there waiting for a response and he was taking too long for your taste.

“Well come on then, I’ll take you wherever you need to go.” You started walking with a purpose, pulling out your phone again to give Derek a heads up of your plans. Harry quickly jogged to catch up with you.

“Thank you. Um, could you drop me off at campus?” You looked back up and smiled with a nod.

“Of course.”

When you got to the parking garage, you hit your key fob to unlock your car. You had a nice black Audi that you gracefully climbed into. Harry was treating it like a work of fragile art, not wanting to touch anything. You noticed that he was admiring your car, causing you to smile. “Are you a car kind of guy?”

“Um, yeah. I suppose. I know a pretty car when I see one.”

This caused you to giggle. “I may have another event for you then. One of my colleagues has vintage cars that he submits to a car show, he asks me to go every year. Maybe I’ll go if I have you by my side.”

Harry beamed at the idea, “I would like that.”

“It’s in the Hamptons so I would have to steal you for a couple of days. I have a beach house there. That’s if you don’t mind, of course.”

Harry had the opportunity to go to the Hamptons to spend a couple of days with you? How could he say no to that fantasy.

“That sounds great, just tell me when and I’m there.”

You started your drive to Colombia’s campus when you felt the need to talk about the one factor of this you had yet to approach.

“How would you like me to pay you? I can write a check or direct deposit if you would like.” You give a quick glance over to him while at a red light and you see him adjusting in his seat.

“Um, whatever is easier for you.”

“I think it will be more discreet if I direct deposit. I will give you my number and you can text me your bank information. I will be sure to delete it and would never do anything other than deposit money to you.”

He nodded in agreement, not that he was worried that you would take money from him. Not that he had a whole lot of money to his name.

You pulled up next to the campus and asked Harry for his phone to put in your number. “Whenever you get the chance, text me the information.”

“I will, thanks.” He stepped out of the car, slung his backpack over his shoulder and began to walk to campus.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry got home and relaxed for a bit, wrapping his head around the day. He got fitted for a gorgeous designer suit, rode in an Audi, and got invited for a long weekend in the Hamptons, all by the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

He finally sat up and began to dig through his piles of papers on his counter to find his bank information. He quickly texted it to you, double checking the numbers were typed out correctly. He set the phone down and went to hop into the shower.

When he stepped out with a towel around his waist and another in hand roughly drying his hair, he picked up his phone and saw a notification from his bank.

Direct deposit of $5,000.

He stared at the screen for an undetermined amount of time before going to his contacts and calling you.

“Hello, this is Y/N.”

“That is way too much, you don’t have to do that, please just —”

“Harry, it is my money and I do as I please. You are doing me a huge favor and you will be with me for a full evening. Plus, you have to deal with a bunch of assholes, it’s the least I can do. Now, don’t ever question my decisions again, okay? My assistant will drop off your suit on Saturday morning. Please text me your address so he can do so. Have a good rest of your day.”

The line went dead, Harry was still in shock. He has never seen four digits in his bank account before and it happened in the blink of an eye. He decided to text you his address and asked no more questions.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry was pulling on the perfectly tailored suit jacket and ran his hand through his hair one last time before spritzing on his cologne when there was a knock on his door. He walked over to open it, seeing a man in a black suit that he has never seen before. The man gave Harry a nod and he began to walk to the stairs. Harry quickly grabbed his keys and phone before following the unnamed, eerily quiet man.

When Harry reached outside, there was a black SUV with dark tinted windows. The uncanny man opened the back door, exposing you looking down at your phone. Harry gasped when you looked up at him, lips painted red, flashing him a dazzling smile.

“Well, don’t you look handsome.” You scooted over so Harry could climb in. He honestly couldn’t help himself, but he had to stare at you. You had your legs crossed, left leg over your right, exposing the full skin of both of your legs due to the slit on the left side. His mouth began to water looking at the soft glow of your legs.

“So, I apologize in advance if some wives try to take you home with them tonight. Those old hags probably haven’t been screwed properly in ages since their husbands waste their viagra on some girls who want their money.”

Harry raised his eyebrows at you with a smile growing across his lips, “Why do I feel like you're not kidding?”

“Oh,” you let out a scoffed laugh, “because I’m not.” You look back up from your phone to gaze at Harry, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” You send him a wink, causing him to blush.

He beams back at you, “My hero.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As you enter through the doors of the banquet hall, arm laced through Harry’s, you begin to get the urge for a cigarette.

You see previous partners to your company; ones that moved on to bigger and better things, others who screwed you over and you cut ties with. You see the old men that hit on you and the wives that stare daggers into you. They all told you that you weren’t going to make it and you proved them all wrong. Though some think you did it with a little help from what is between your legs or your harlot red lips.

You really need a cigarette.

You see Claudia standing across the way, holding out two champagne flutes for the both of you. You gently tug Harry with you, taking in how he is observing the room. He has an air of professionalism to him that can only come naturally; he’ll be a great business man.

“Knew you would pick this one! Had to save the best for last.” Claudia handed you both your bubbling spirit and put her hand out for Harry to shake, introducing herself and Derek.

“I need a cigarette and a stronger drink than this to get through the night.” You quickly downed the liquid, placing the glass on a nearby table, excusing yourself to the terrace.

Harry followed you out a few moments later, holding a rocks glass out to you. You smiled up at him reaching for the glass and taking a sip before handing it back to him so you could take a long drag. “Thank you.”

He leaned over the banister of the terrace to look out over the city, taking his own sip where your red lips had left their stain. You found it slightly erotic how he licked his lips after touching your mark, as if he had decided to take his sip at that specific part of the glass on purpose.

“So tell me, shall I be talking you up in there? Should be easy for me.”

You reach for the glass he is rolling between his fingers, taking another sip, “And why is that?”

He took the cigarette from between your fingers, admiring the vibrant stain before placing it between his own lips, slightly squinting his eyes as he took a drag. “I’m quite infatuated with you. I’ve followed your work from the start, wrote some papers on your business plans.”

You raised an eyebrow and watched him, studying his features that softened as the left side of his lip began to upturn, indenting his cheek to an adorable dimple. “To be completely honest? I started to follow you because I was terribly attracted to you. I saw you on the front of a magazine and…” he pursed his lips out with a smirk before he chuckled at himself. He looked up at you with his boyish charm before he stood back up and took his drink from you again.

“Oh, Harry, thought about me when you were lonely?” You gave him a false pout that grew into a smile.

He finished his drink before looking back at you, “Still do.” His smile and eye contact were never wavering as he stamped out your cigarette for you and took your hand to return inside.

Harry guided you to your table, hand on your lower back before pulling out your chair for you. He sat to the left of you next to another gentleman, who you had no idea what his business was. His wife was glaring at you as Harry was talking to the man, though the man was more focused on the cleavage exposed by your dress. Harry reached his hand to you, gripping onto the skin of your exposed thigh.

You could audibly hear the man whimper and his wife scoff as Harry’s thumb began to caress your skin. You could see Claudia’s smile grow as she takes a sip of her drink, watching Harry become possessive of you before her eyes. Derek caught her attention by kissing her cheek as the head speaker began his announcement for awards and donations.

As the night came to an end, you were thankful to have Harry at your side. He was holding his own, taking to other businessmen as if he had been conversing with them his whole life. He was able to talk business plans, discuss what he was currently learning in classes, he even gave a few men advice on future endeavors. To be completely honest, you were aroused by the power Harry held as he was working the room.

Harry had his arm wrapped around your waist as you walked to your awaiting SUV, holding your hand as you climbed in and he followed suit. You let out a content sigh, enjoying the silence in the car.

Harry reached across you, grabbing the back of your knee to pull both legs to rest on his lap. He gently unclasped the buckle of your heel, slowly removing it before placing it on the floor by his feet. He did the same with your other foot and began to rub his thumb up the arches.

You let out a satisfied hum at the pressure soothing your aching feet, resting your head on the window as you watched Harry focused on his work in hand.

“You did amazing tonight, Harry. Thank you.”

He looked up at you with his dimples on display, making the tightness you have felt in your stomach all night constrict even more. He looked proud, as he should.

“It was a lot of fun. Learned a lot.”

You smiled back at him, slowly blinking your eyes closed. “That old colleague I was telling you about with the vintage car show, Jack, he asked if we would like to go. It’s in six weeks if you are interested.”

“I’d love to.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the six weeks since the fundraising event, Harry had joined you on multiple smaller level events, including some work dinners and client matters.

His closest had grown exponentially in the six weeks, whether it was a suit for an event that you had purchased for him or he had found something designer he liked and he bought it with the money from his ever growing bank account, thanks to you. He has found pleasure in Gucci, also thanks to you. He has found that the luxuries he now has in his life was all in your taste, subconsciously wanting to please you.

You would comment on his attire he has purchased without your assistance, always beaming when you talk about what line it was from and how well it suited Harry. He loves the feelings he gets when you praise him.

He was packing his bag for the weekend trip to the Hamptons, having just gone shopping for some outfits for the occasion. He had also bought some things to spruce up his studio apartment, making it look more put together and modern rather than a frat boy's bedroom. Your taste even makes its appearance in his decor.

You had knocked on his door, waiting with coffee in hand for the both of you. He opened the door with a wide smile before allowing you to enter the apartment. He had his clothes neatly folded on the bed, waiting to be placed into the leather duffle bag you got him for the occasion, another ‘thank you’ on your part.

You sat on his bed, sipping your coffee while watching him put his toiletries in the matching leather shaving bag, which was also a praise gift. He was dressed in grey sweat shorts and a simple black T-shirt with his short locks held out of his face by a red bandana. He was still barefoot walking around while he was finishing up.

“Do you have the word ‘big’ tattooed on your toe?” Your ever present smile grew as you leaned closer to get a look.

Harry chuckled, scratching his jaw “I may have been drunk and did it myself.”

You shook your head with a giggle of your own before taking another sip of your coffee, leaning back in Harry’s bed.

Harry was trying to will away the semi he was sporting. He had never seen you in lounge clothes and the black leggings you were wearing were doing crazy things to Harry’s body. You were wearing your Columbia Alumni shirt, tied in a knot at the waist to show off the curves of your hips that the leggings were hugging. Your hair was up messily, making Harry want to pull it down from its restraint so that he could muss it up with his own fingers. Your Clubmaster Ray-Bans sat on top of your head and your skin looked fresh and dewy with no makeup on.

Harry took a moment in his kitchen when he was getting his hydro flask to take a breath and squeeze himself through his shorts to take away some of the ache. He’s not sure how he is going to handle a whole weekend if this is what it will be like.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You stopped at a local gas station before leaving the city. Harry offered to fill your tank while you went into the shop to get some snacks for the trip, getting your essential Swedish Fish and Redbull while Harry asked for gummy bears and orange juice.

Harry was already sitting in the passenger seat when you returned, him now having his Wayfarer Ray-Bans on; he only bought them when you said he would look good in them. He was playing on his phone and perked up when you slid in the drivers side.

You handed him his goodies while you promptly opened your bag of candy to set between your thighs and cracked open your can of liquid energy. You began your hour and a half drive to your beach house in the Hamptons. You had your favorite Spotify playlist playing through your speakers, both of you humming along.

“Want some?” Harry looked up at you confused as to what you were talking about. You smiled as you glanced over before returning your gaze to the road. “Some fishies, help yourself.” You nodded down to the bag between your thighs as you took another sip of your drink.

“Thanks.” Harry reached over, dipping his hand between your thighs that you involuntarily widened when his hand approached. He looked up at your face when he slowly dipped his fingers into the bag to grip a few red fish, reaching for the few that were closest to the apex of your thighs. He could feel your heat at his knuckles as he pulled a few gummies out, sticking his tongue out as the candy approached his lips.

You adjusted in your seat, shocked that you were turned on by a man grabbing and eating a candy. Then again, it was Harry. He has been torturing you with his good looks since you clicked on his link.

The ride was uneventful for the rest of the time, Harry watching as expensive homes, luxurious boutiques and restaurants whiz by as you enter the Hamptons and make your way toward the beach.

You pulled up to your beach house, clicking the garage door button on your phone before parking. You grab your trash and put them in the appropriate receptacles that you keep in your garage. Harry was already grabbing your bags out of the car, allowing you to unlock the door freely. You held it open for Harry, stepping into your small mud room, both kicking off your shoes before walking further into the home.

The first view Harry had was of the beach through the windows that filled the wall of your dining room. He walks past the open concept kitchen to go straight to the windows, watching the waves crash on the shore. You open the french doors that lead to your back porch that has stairs that lead down to the sandy beach. You let some fresh air waft in as you go to the kitchen to take stock of what you need to go shopping for.

Harry was still standing at the window with both your bags in hand before you went over to rub his back and grab your bag.

“Come on, I’ll show you your room.” You guide Harry past your open living room to the stairs, leading him up and to the right. “This will be your room. You’ll have your own bathroom and there should be fresh towels in there for you. I’ll be right down the hall if you need anything. I’m going to hop in the shower.”

Harry watched as you walked away, seeing you pull off your T-shirt as you were shutting your bedroom door, briefly exposing your black bralette. Harry ran his hand down his face, feeling the pulse return to his groin. He quickly shut and locked the door before situating himself on his bed, promptly pushing his shorts and briefs down his thighs, reaching for the high end lotion you placed by the bed for guests.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry had taken his own shower after relieving himself after he made a proper mess on his thighs and hand. He climbed down the stairs to the smell of curry and Elton John playing through the speakers.

“Figured we should eat a proper meal since we haven’t yet today, so I ordered some Thai.”

You both sat on your back porch, enjoying the view as you ate your take out. You chatted about the next day, telling Harry about the car show and what to expect when it comes to Jack.

“He's like that eccentric drunk uncle at the Christmas party that you love but don’t want to deal with.”

You enjoyed each other’s company, watching the sun start to set on the horizon before calling it a night and turning in.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

After waking up from a restful sleep, Harry got dressed in his running shorts and hoodie, throwing on his running shoes before walking to your room to let you know he was going to go for a run along the beach.

Your door was cracked open slightly, Harry able to see you laying on your bed. He stepped closer to the door, about to push the door open further when he heard an ever present whimper. He wasn’t sure if the noise was due to your sleep, but his question was answered when he looked at you in your detail.

Your legs were spread open, two fingers deep to the knuckle as you were laid open on your comforter. You were pumping into yourself as you had your other hand up under your sleep shirt, groping your breast and rolling your nipple between your fingers.

Harry thought he was dreaming, seeing the delicious sight in front of him. Harry couldn’t help himself but to dip his hand in his shorts to start palming his hardening member. Your whimpers going straight to his cock, the arch of your spine off your bed making his mouth water.

You looked over at your door, eyes barely open, pausing your movements briefly when you saw Harry in the crack of the door. Your eyes trail to see him pumping his hand in his shorts, thinking that you should give him a good show.

He didn’t notice that you had seen him but he did notice that your legs had spread further as you pulled your glistening fingers out of your core to rub them on your clit, causing you to moan louder. You pulled your shirt up completely to expose yourself fully to Harry, all without him knowing that you were aware of his wandering eyes.

Having him watch you work yourself got you to your brink. Your eyes were glued to his pumping which was now frantic, causing you to lose control, snapping your legs shut around your hand as you came undone. You could hear Harry attempt to muffle his grunt as he made a mess of his shorts, causing a blissful smile to grow across your swollen lips. You gently rolled your fingers around your clit, spreading your legs again for Harry to watch as you ease yourself down from your high.

The next time you looked at your door, Harry was gone.

You got out of bed with an annoyed huff, getting a shower before wrapping yourself in your robe to head downstairs to make coffee and a quick breakfast. You grabbed your plate of eggs and toast with your coffee and cigarettes, stepping out on your back porch to enjoy the air while trying to calm your aggravation.

You don’t know why you are annoyed with Harry not making a move on you while you were self pleasing, but you were. You wanted that to be the moment to break down the walls built by the pure sexual tension between you. You knew he wanted you, he had told you he had touched himself to you, and now, you had seen him touch himself to you. You were on the brink of sinking on your knees and pulling him out to prove how much you wanted him too.

Harry climbed up the stairs, all sweaty from his run as you were finishing up your cigarette. He could sense the irritation coming off of you but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe you had caught him and you weren’t happy about it. He would just die if that was the case. He sat down in the chair that wasn’t taken over by your resting feet. He noticed that you were only picking at your breakfast as he untied his shoes and kicked them off so as to not trail any sand inside. He leaned back in his seat, taking a deep breath before pulling his hoodie off, T-shirt coming off with it.

You couldn’t help your mouth watering seeing him now topless and glistening with sweat, watching his chest rise and fall while trying to catch his breath. You sat up and ripped a piece of toast before popping it in your mouth, now refusing to look at him.

“Have a nice run?” You continued to poke at your eggs, acting like you're eating them but you are just trying to occupy your eyes.

“Yeah, it was nice. Been a while since I ran on a beach.”

You hummed at his response before standing up and grabbing your things. “We will be leaving in an hour, Jack wants us to meet him at the country club before the car show.”

Harry nodded at you but you promptly walked inside, ignoring his reply before dropping your dishes in the sink and going to your room to get ready.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You knew you were being petty. You knew that he couldn’t read your mind but god you wished he could. You were just finishing your hair when you heard a knock on your bedroom door. You walked over to see Harry clad in red and white gingham trousers and a white button up with the sleeves rolled up, just sheer enough to make the outlines of his black ink. His hair was perfectly slicked back with a few curls having some definition to them. He had a look of cowardice as he tucked his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

“Looking handsome, as always.” He gave you a soft smile at the compliment before fully taking you in. You were in a white knee length sundress that had big roses printed on the fabric. Your one shoulder strap annoyingly falling down, which Harry promptly grazed his fingers against your skin to slide the strap into place.

Harry’s gaze raked back up your frame before looking you in your eyes, “You ready?”

You nodded at him, grabbing your Michael Kors wedges off your bed before walking out of your room ahead of Harry. You made your way to the mud room to switch your purses and to sit on the bench to slip on your shoes.

Harry grabbed your shoes for you, kneeling in front of you, gingerly wrapping his fingers around your ankle to slide your foot into the wedge, pulling the zipper up at the heel. He had done the same to your other foot, this time watching you watch him. He gently placed your foot to the floor before standing up straight and putting his hand out for you to help you up before walking to your car.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The car ride was silent, omitting the random questions Harry had regarding the country club and Jack. You adjusted your sunglasses after you had parked, reaching into the back seat to grab your bag. You were about to climb out but Harry gripped your wrist, pausing your motions.

“Y/N…” you looked at him as he had reached to push your sunglasses off your face to look you directly in the eyes. “I’m sorry about this morning, when I saw you. I should have left you in private but I just couldn’t help myself. I needed to see you, need to see you like that. If it ruined any type of relationship we may have, I thoroughly apologize. You should know that I never meant to invade your privacy but… fuck, I just can’t help myself with you. My body takes over when it comes to you and I am so sorry. Please, forgive me?”

You sat there in silence, trying not to smile at how cute Harry was. He was giving you the puppy eyes as his thumb ran over your wrist in gentle circles. You were pondering on how you should approach it; Do you tell him it was no problem? Ignore it and act like nothing happened? Or…

“I only got off because I saw you pump your cock watching me.” You leaned over to kiss his cheek before stepping out of the car to the entrance of the country club.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jack loved Harry. They were chatting it up outside, Jack with a cigar in his mouth and Harry with his mimosa in hand. You were ordering you both another one when Jack’s wife, Sharon, approached you at the bar.

“He’s a looker, sweetheart.” You smiled at her before telling her honestly how you met. Jack and Sharon were always supportive of you. You had been Jack’s intern at his company when you were in undergrad, Jack promptly hiring you when you were getting your masters. He taught you everything you knew and Sharon taught you how to enjoy the finer things in life, including Harry.

“Cut the shit with the escort thing and make him your man. He’s a looker, he’s smart. Jack already adores him and is calling him son. You know how hard it is to please that man.”

You looked back to Harry and Jack, both laughing at one of their dad jokes. Harry looked up to see you looking at him, smiling and twiddling his fingers in a wave. He finished his drink, prompting him and Jack to walk back inside to you girls.

Harry had adjusted the strap of your dress that fell down again and you were handing him a new mimosa, sipping out of your own glass. Harry placed his hand on your lower back, watching you as you engage in the conversation Jack and Sharon were having.

An announcement was made that the fairway was now open for guests to look at the cars. Jack quickly downed his drink before exiting like a kid being allowed free range of a candy store. Sharon promptly followed her husband as Harry guided you to follow, grazing his hand down to your bum to give it a soft rub and light tap.

Harry followed Jack around as he was explaining to Harry all the ins and outs of all the vintage cars on show. What gave them value, their rarity, what he likes and dislikes of each car. Sharon and you following behind, enjoying the sun and the wine slushies you had grabbed from a vendor.

Harry took a particular interest in a white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230SL, stalking around it to take in the details. He smiled to the owner when they came over to talk to Harry, showing the car with the roof down.

“He’s got good taste. He’s enamored by you and the car.” Jack elbowed your shoulder, causing the strap of your dress to fall again. You looked at him as you adjusted the dress with a smile.

“How can you tell?”

“Well, I can tell he loves the car because that’s how he looks at you, doll.”

You look back to Harry, who is now sitting in the driver's seat, running his hands along the steering wheel. Harry shakes hands with the driver before walking back over to you, grabbing your slushie to take a drink himself.

You look up at him, pushing your sunglasses into your hair to take him in fully. “You like?”

Harry put his hand on your hip, taking another sip of the slushie. “She is a beauty. My dad has something similar but not as pristine.” He looked back over his shoulder to look at the car as his hand continued to rub at your hip.

“She is pretty. Looks like a pearl.” You looked over his shoulder with him to take her in.

Harry kissed the top of your head, handing back your drink before going to follow Jack and Sharon as you sneak off to talk to the owner.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You enjoyed your dinner with Jack and Sharon, catching up on your businesses as well as discussed Harry’s future plans. Jack had offered Harry an intern position at his company if Harry was interested.

Jack and Sharon wished you and Harry a good night before you went your separate ways to your cars. Sharon gave you an extra squeeze and told you to “be nice to that boy”, sending you a wink.

You climb into your car to see Harry beaming. “I think they liked me.”

You smiled back at him, “I know they like you. Wouldn't stop coming up to me to tell me how i should keep you around.”

Harry was leaning his head on the headrest to look at you, “Do you want to keep me around?”

“Should I keep you around?” You started your car and began to drive away, Harry still watching your every move. You could see him in the corner of your eye, both of your smiles growing. His hand made its way to your thigh, pushing your skirt up so that his hand could rest on your bare skin. You hummed at the warmth of his palm.

“So you liked when I was watching you?” His hand began to slide further up your dress and your legs had spread further for him, as they tend to do more frequently than not as of late.

“I loved it.”

He hummed at your response, “Do you like being caught? Dirty girl.”

You moaned and moved your left leg so Harry could touch every inch of you, you lifted the skirt of your dress to expose your lace covered core to Harry.

“Want me to finger fuck you here, dirty girl? Right in your car, while you're driving? You’re fucking filthy.”

He started to run his fingers through your folds and you tried your hardest to focus on the road. You weren’t far from your home at this point, trying to stay safe while focusing on Harry’s delicious fingers learning the dips and curves of your core.

“Should I wait to fuck you properly when we get home? Been thinking about it all day.” He unbuckled his seatbelt to get closer to you to nose at your neck. He started to dip his fingers into you as he was kissing any exposed skin.

You finally made it home, abruptly parking your car in the driveway. You undid your seatbelt, promptly taking Harry’s hand that was between your legs to plunge his fingers deeper into you. Your head tipped back as Harry’s fingers hit your favorite spot. Harry quickly made the come hither motion, rubbing his fingertips where you needed him.

“God baby… you’re my dirty girl, huh? Fucking yourself with my fingers.” Your grip tightened around his wrist as he nipped at your jaw. Your thighs began to tighten around Harry’s hand which caused him to remove himself from you. You let out a whine at the empty feeling and the pure desire that was burning in you.

You turn to Harry with lust filled eyes to see him shamelessly suck on each finger that was buried in you individually. “Going to give me a proper taste later. Aren’t you, sweet girl?”

Harry had climbed out of the car, grabbing the keys from you to unlock the door. He began to unbutton his shirt in the mud room as he was kicking off his shoes, you watched with a panting breath, still in the front seat of your car. Harry tucked his hands in the pockets of his trousers, bare chested, and gave you a nod to follow him inside.

When you finally entered your house, Harry was in the kitchen with his head in the refrigerator. He pulled out the container of strawberries and slid them onto the island. He closed the door before turning to lean on the island, popping the container open with a flick of his finger. He grazed the tips of his fingers across each strawberry, deciding which one was the juiciest berry.

“Go get in your shower. I will be there in a moment.” He gripped the stem of the red fruit, tongue grazing it’s flesh before he sunk his teeth in. He made sure to look at you as he licked his lips free of the sweet juice.

You thought that two could play at this game, standing in place as you unzipped your dress and letting it fall freely around your ankles, exposing you in your strapless bra and panties with your wedges still on before climbing up the stairs. Harry stood up straight as you began to walk away.

You quickly undressed as you started your shower, getting under the warm stream while patiently waiting. The anticipation was killing you. It felt like you had been standing under the running water for hours with Harry nowhere to be found. You decided that you would actually start your shower routine.

You were facing the water, rinsing off your face free of makeup and face wash when you felt Harry’s grip on the back of your neck. He pressed his body close to yours so that you could feel his erection on your bum and so that his mouth had access to your ear.

“What am I to do with you, filthy girl? Spent months thinking of you with your legs spread open, just for me and then you have to go and fuck yourself with not only your fingers, but mine as well.”

He used his left hand to guide yours to the wall for support while his right hand trailed down your body, immediately finding purchase between your legs. His middle finger was quick with making circles around your sensitive nub while he laced his fingers with yours against the wall.

“Dreamt about touching you,” his fingers dipped lower, grazing your glistening entrance. “Tasting you,” he began to pepper kisses along your shoulder. “Fucking you.” He thrusted his hips behind you, his hard on grazing perfectly between your cheeks.

“I’ve wanted to for so long my sweet girl, just know that it’s because I want this, not because of the job. Fuck the job honestly. I just want you, all of you.”

He gave a gentle push to your upper spine to have you lean over slightly as he grips his member, swiftly sliding himself into you and quickly gaining a rhythm with his thrusts. He was quick but not deep, causing you to press your cheek to the cold time for support. His thrusts became deeper and rougher, causing your gentle whimpers to become moans that bounced against the tiles.

Harry gripped your thigh, pulling it to spread you open further while he guided you to rest your foot on the bench of the shower. His moans were muffled by your shoulder that would have his mark by the end of this. Harry’s hand continued to rub circles on your clit, making your legs tremble and for your to lean back upright into Harry.

“Feel good baby? Fuck, you’re such a good girl taking me. Feel so fucking good.”

You could feel his hips stutter against you, causing him to roll his hips slowly into you. You let out a moan and grip the wrist of his hand that is making work on your mound.

“Mmm you like that? Going to cum for me, sweet girl? Let me feel you.” His fingers started to move in rapid figure eights, causing your leg that was propped up to quickly fall and close Harry’s hand between your thighs. The new tightness of your core with your legs closed caused Harry to moan out and still within you, feeling your orgasm throb around him.

He began to kiss down your spine so he could be on his knees. He gently gripped your hip to turn you around so you could finally face him. He looked beautiful.

As he was kissing your lower belly, you took in his wet hair slicked back, his cheeks and chest flush from orgasm, his lips red and swollen. He used both hands to spread your thighs open so that he could see his cum drip from your core. He looked up at you in awe before quickly running his finger through your folds, catching both his and your arousal. He extended his hand up to you, telling you to ‘open’ before he popped his slick finger between your lips. He let you suck his finger to your desire as he dipped his tongue between your folds, moaning at the taste of your mixture.

Harry had stood up and held your jaw before leaning in for your first kiss. He was gentle, holding both sides of your jaw as his tongue grazed your lip to allow him to taste all of you. He pressed you gently against the cool wall as he continued to kiss you breathless before pulling away and grabbing the shampoo to wash your hair for you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been a few weeks and you had finally received the call telling you that you could pick up a gift that you had purchased for Harry. You had bought it prior to him giving you the good news that he had accepted the internship with Jack, but he doesn’t need to know that.

You called him and told him that you were on your way to pick him up with the plan to go for a celebratory dinner. You texted him when you were out front, climbing out of Harry’s gift to lean on the passenger door to await his arrival.

When he walked out, you beamed at how handsome he looked with chartreuse wide legged trousers with a black stripe along the side and a black button up. When he turned to look at you, he was frozen.

The white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230SL.

You lifted your hands with a ‘surprise’ and a beaming smile. You acted as if you were one of those girls on the Price is Right, explaining all the details, ending with “And she could be all yours Mr. Styles, for the price of a kiss.”

Harry climbed down the front stairs of his apartment building, still in awe of the car but quickly grabbed your face and placed multiple quick kisses to your lips before wrapping his arms around you.

“Sweet girl, you didn’t…”

“You stop. I did and I wanted to, you deserve it. You’ve been working so hard and you got the internship with Jack. We’ll be working together before you know it.”

He looked down at you and gave you a gentle smile before giving you another longer, sweeter kiss. “Shall we go for a ride?” You held the keys up for Harry, who promptly took them before opening the passenger door for you.

Harry drove around the city, following your directions to a more secluded area by a park. The sun was setting as you told Harry to park the car. You looked at him adoringly, your fingers rubbing through his growing locks.

Harry turned to look at you with that all knowing glare, “Did you bring me all the way out here just to screw me, dirty girl?”

You were already climbing across the seat to straddle his lap, unzipping the front of your dress, exposing you had nothing on underneath. You pulled Harry’s head back by tugging at his hair to look up at you. “We need to break her in, don't we?”

Harry groaned before sitting up to give you a searing kiss, his hands trailing over your exposed skin as you were kissing the skin of his jaw and neck. “We could get caught, you know?”

You pulled away, looking down upon him with a devious smirk, you began to undo his belt and zip of his trousers. “Good.”

Harry let out a moan as you dipped his hand in his trousers, pumping him lightly before pulling him out.

“Fucking filthy girl.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry was being added to all the invitations to your work events as if he were a part of you. At this point, he was. Claudia being sure that everyone knew that Harry was an up and coming businessman who was in love with New York’s finest and most beautiful businesswoman.

And everyone adored Harry. How could they not? He was charming, handsome, smart, and an amazing lover. But people didn’t need to know the last part. Well, except maybe Claudia, she was your best friend.

Harry was just as adventurous as you when it came to your intimacy. Always suggesting new things to try, always feeding your hunger. Tonight was no different.

You both had played with the idea of fooling around at a public event but never made any formal agreement. Tonight, you were invited to a gala at the Guggenheim so Harry had used it as an opportunity to fulfill your fantasy.

Harry had stopped by Harris’ to pick up both of your garments and he also stopped at Eve’s Garden on his way to your home. Harry had walked into your penthouse with the garment bags and a little black plastic bag in hand.

You were in your en-suite finishing up your bath, putting lotion on while sitting on the edge of your tub, humming along to Etta James as Lady was curled up on your vanity, licking her paw. She chirped when she saw Harry in the doorway, slinking her way to him for some loving pets.

“Hello, my sweet girls.” You beam up at Harry, rubbing the last of your lotion into your hands before standing up to give Harry a saccharine kiss, also giving Lady a pet. She would never forgive you if you didn’t.

“Thank you for picking up my dress, handsome.”

“Of course, my love. I picked up a little something else.” Harry gave you a small smirk before turning to your room, you follow suit. Harry sat on your bed, patting his lap for you to sit on.

He pulled black bag out from behind him as you sat in his lap. He handed you the bag, undoing your robe to kiss the skin of your collar. You pulled out the vibrant cube box that was nondescript. You rotated it in your hands to try to figure out what it was.

“Open it.” Harry continued to kiss your skin, opening your robe more to expose your chest to him. You opened the box to see a vibrator, a We-Vibe specifically. The box began to vibrate without you touching anything, Harry pulling his lips off your skin to show you that he is controlling it with his phone.

You let out a laugh in disbelief, “Oh, baby.”

Harry smiled at you before getting a good grip of you to lay you on the bed. “I figured we could have a little fun tonight.”

You laid on your back and spread your legs for Harry, who settled on his knees between yours. Harry had pulled the vibrator out of the box, going to the bathroom to sanitize it like the gentleman he is. He made eye contact with you on his way back to you, sucking on the vibrator as he crawled back up the bed.

He shamelessly rolled it against his tongue as his free hand ran up your inner thigh. Harry pulled the vibrator out of his mouth, hollowing his cheeks to spit on the tip of the vibrator before running it through your folds. He gently pushed it into you, watching you as you take a quick inhale.

“You okay, sweet girl?” You gave him a small nod before grabbing his hand to help him adjust it to a more comfortable position within you. Harry rubbed the tops of your thighs before leaning forward to give you a gentle kiss. “Let's get ready, hm?”

You both got up to get ready, you waddling slightly as you walked to your closet, adjusting to exciting new object between your legs. You let out a squeal when you felt it begin to vibrate.

“Just testing it!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dinner was really rough on you, Harry having his phone permanently attached to his hand under the table. You were starting to get sweaty around your hairline and upper lip trying to keep your moans at bay.

You were reapplying your signature lipstick after finishing dinner and Harry took it as an opportune moment to give you a pulsing vibrate, causing you to give a light moan as your mouth was open and your hand holding your mirror fell to the table soundly. Claudia, Derek, Jack, and Sharon all look at you as Harry tries to hold back his smile, clearing his throat and rubbing his two fingers on the tip of his nose.

“Are you alright, chickee?”

You also cleared your throat and nodded as you felt the intensity between your legs increase and the pulsing become more frequent. You closed your eyes and let out a hum, gently rubbing your lips together before suggesting you go to the bathroom, giving Harry’s thigh a squeeze.

You made your way out of the dining area, Harry quick to follow, telling your friends that he was simply checking up on you. You heard the click of his boots on the marbled floor, the vibrations being between your legs making your knees buckle as you feel Harry’s grip on your bicep to pull you in his direction.

He pulled you into a more private area that was closest to where you were, which happened to be a coat closet. He smeared his lips against yours, smudging your scarlet lips. Harry’s hand was quick to run up your skirt to pull the toy from you, promptly placing it between his lips to suck off your juices before sticking it in his inner jacket pocket.

Harry fell to his knees before you, hiking up your skirt around your waist, gripping your hands to guide you to hold the skirt up for him.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight baby.” He was kissing along your thighs, “Stayed nice and quiet for me, though I hate it. Need to hear you scream for me now, darling.” Harry lifted your leg so it rested on his shoulder while his hands pinned you against the wall.

You felt his fingers tighten around your hips as his nose rubbed against your mound, pecking kisses, occasionally giving your skin a soft lick. You moan softly and look down to see Harry already peering up at you through his long lashes. “Going to need you to be louder than that, sweet girl.”

Harry sat up on his hunches to pull himself out of the restraints of his designer trousers. He lifted his palm up to you, “Spit.”

You gladly spit in his palm before he started to stroke himself, letting an unashamed moan out of the back of his throat. “Been so fucking hard for you all night. Was palming myself under the table all through dinner.”

You spread your legs further as Harry scooted closer, returning to giving you gentle kisses to your mound and lips. You could feel his moans against your skin as he was pumping himself and spreading you open with his tongue.

Your head tipped back as Harry began to dip his tongue into you, gently sucking your lips and clit individually into his mouth. You continue to let out tiny mewls, and Harry needed more.

“Louder, dirty girl. I want them to hear you in the dining room.”

“I need you to fuck me if you want me to do that, baby.”

Harry quickly removed your thigh from his shoulder and climbed to his feet. He still had a grip on your thigh, slinging it over his hip so he could simply slide into you, which was easy to do with how slick you had become from Harry’s incessant teasing all night.

You both moaned out at the feeling, finally having you full of him, just what you needed. What you both needed. You let out a loud moan when Harry started thrusting his hips into you, begging for him to go harder as you dug your nails into his suit jacket. You quickly pushed it off of him so that you could get your nails into him properly.

“Fucking hell, my dirty girl really needs me, huh?”

You nodded at him, letting out another moan that caused Harry’s hips to thrust erratically. His hand gripped your ass to pull you closer, his other hand went to your jaw, his thumb running over your ruby lips, smearing the color.

“You look so good when I fuck you baby girl.” You licked his thumb, tasting the remnants of your lipstick. You grind your hips against Harry, egging him on.

“I need you harder.” You begin to lift your other leg to wrap around Harry’s waist, him gripping your thigh and pinning your harder to the wall with his hips. He took your direction and began to thrust into you harder, hips snapping at a feverish pace. The sound of your skin slapping and your strangled moans sent Harry into overdrive, using his pubic mound to grind perfectly into your clit causing you to gush slightly around Harry’s member.

“Fuck, dirty girl. Got you squirting on me.” The look on Harry’s face was a look of awe as well as pained trying to hold back from his own orgasm. Your thighs clamped around his waist as your second wave came over you, constricting Harry causing him to come undone. Harry’s hand flew up to the wall to support the two of you as you slowly came down.

Harry kissed your cheek and jaw mumbling how perfect you are and that he loves you over and over. You grip his jaw as you unhook your ankles to plant yourself to the floor. Kissing him and praising how good he treats you, how much you love him.

“We should probably get back, hm?”

“I think that since we are both a proper mess,” he tried to remove some of your smeared lipstick with no luck, smiling down at you, “we should probably just head home.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So what happened with you and Harry last night?” Claudia had asked you as you were both eating your salads from Derek’s go-to local bistro.

“Hm? Oh, I wasn’t feeling well so he just took me home.”

“Not feeling well as in, ‘tummy not well’, or ‘he fucked you so good in the coat closet that you couldn’t walk’ not well?”

You choked on your salad, taking quick sips from your water to clear your throat.

“He said he wanted everyone to hear you and boy did we!” Claudia began to laugh, taking another bit of food and giving you a cheeky smile as you blushed.

“I wanted to check up on you, as girls do, and the next thing I know, I have my ear pressed up to the coat closet getting turned on by Harry’s dirty talk to you.” She shrugged it off as nothing as you covered your face in embarrassment.

“You told me you both are adventurous but lord have mercy. Getting everyone hot and bothered by it.”

You finally loosened up, giggling slightly as you asked her, “Did you notice how I was off throughout the night?” She nodded as she licked the piece of green hanging out of her mouth to guide it where it belonged.

“Harry got us one of those remote vibrators…”

“Oh my god! He was fucking with you all night?! I would take him in the coat closet too! Fucking hell! That’s so hot though. Was it nice? I mean clearly, but would you do it again?”

As you were about to respond, Jack walked in with Harry beside him. He looked so handsome when dressed in a more casual suit for work. His hair was growing longer and he was too lazy to shave that morning at your place before work, so he had a slight scruff to him.

“To what do we own the pleasure of you fine gentleman?” Harry winked at your cheeky remark.

“Well sweetheart, wanted you to be the first to know. Harry has accepted a position at my company and would like to discuss a business proposition with you.”

You couldn’t help but to jump up to your feet to run over and give him a hug and kiss, doing the same to Jack.

You clear your throat to appear to be more professional, which no one in the room took seriously. “So what is this business proposition that you have for me?”

Harry cleared his throat and you didn’t realize that Derek and Sharon had also made their way into your office. Harry tucked his hands in his pockets, getting a nod of approval from Jack.

“I know that our start was quite unorthodox in nature, being as you had hired me as a date to an event. That being said, I have come to learn a lot more about you than I had when I was just a simple fangirl of yours.”

You giggle at his natural joking nature but know that there is true sentiment to his words.

“I have been utterly in love with you before we even met but being with you and getting to truly know you has cemented my thoughts and feelings for you. I know that we have been official for less than a year but I don’t think I could handle another moment of my life where I can’t say that we will be each other's forever.”

You could hear Claudia and Sharon squeak and gasp as Harry pulls his hands out of his pockets, his left one holding a small velvet box.

“Y/N, my love, my sweet girl. I promise to love you and take care of you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

You were beaming with your eyes brimmed with tears, sniffling with a giggle. “There is only one problem.” Everyone froze in their movements, anticipating what you will say next. “I get to keep taking care of you.”

Harry let out the breath he was holding, “Fair enough.” He reached for your left hand to place the perfect engagement ring on your finger. Standing up to give you the most perfect kiss from the most perfect man. And to think that you had ordered him online.

[rhysismydaddy]

An Artful Revenge pt. 6 (Feysand)

Part of the Damnation series. 

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

This is the last part of this fic! Gonna work on some asks next, then start the Nessian story (see the link above for details) 

~Feyre~

Men, in general, are beyond stupid.

I honestly don’t even know how the male population is still around.

I mean sure, they have their moments. Fire? Pretty cool. 

Maybe I should amend my statement: Men are stupid when it comes to women.

Because if Tamlin had any common sense, he would wonder why I drag myself into his office downtown, the day after I found out who he really is.

He’d wonder how I even found his posh little office, since he sure as hell never told me about it. (Answer: Rhysand). 

He’d wonder why I’m crying and having an emotional breakdown, but am still dressed in a lowcut dress with my hair done. (Answer: men are even stupider when it comes to a woman with exposed breasts). 

But he doesn’t.

He sees me stumbling toward him, a mess of tears and fluffy hair, and jumps to his feet, coming to my rescue.

His arms wrap around me miraculously at the same time my legs give out, and I fall into him dramatically. 

That was a little much, but what can I say? I was a theatre kid.

“Feyre,” he says calmly, stroking my hair like he didn’t insult me twenty-four hours ago. In fact, he’s acting like we didn’t even break up. “What’s wrong?”

I press my face in his shoulder, trying not to think about how wrong this feels, how wrong he smells. 

Rhysand smells like citrus and the sea and something so manly it makes my knees go weak for real. Tamlin smells like dirt and bad decisions. 

“You were right.” It’s something all men love to hear a woman say, even though it’s hardly ever true. “You were so right, Tamlin.”

He pulls back and runs a thumb over my cheek, swiping a tear away. 

His green eyes question mine, so calm and understanding compared to yesterday’s rage. His hands are gentle as they cradle my face, and I want them off off off.

“He’s a monster,” I wail, dredging up some more tears. Knowing there needs to be more of a concrete reason for my breakdown, I make some pretty seedy shit up. “He... killed his driver! Because he took a wrong turn!”

Gods, Feyre. Really?

I can practically see Rhysand rolling his eyes. He’d see through my lies in a second. 

Tamlin, however, bites the bait... more like he swallows the whole damn line.

He hugs me again, so tight my feet leave the floor, and I go limp against him, pressing all the soft parts of me against the hardness of his chest.

Don’t get me wrong, Tamlin’s attractive. Wide shoulders, surfer boy hair, tan skin, and green eyes that look like the deepest of emerald. 

But he also is a fucking asshole, and everything about him irritates me.

It’s crazy, I think as his hands slip lower on my back, that yesterday he called me a whore, and now he wants to sleep with me.

Prick.

“Tamlin,” I sigh against his neck.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”

I almost throw up at the little pet name, but I nod and act like he’s the greatest thing on this planet, the gods’ personal gift to all things women.

But then he kisses me, and I get tired of this little charade. 

I keep my eyes open as his warm lips meet mine, wanting to see his face as the needle sinks into his skin.

His eyes fly open, and he drops me to my feet roughly, a hand pressed against his neck. It’s too late, of course.

Whatever black market shit this is, it works fast. 

His legs give out, and I shove his shoulder so he lands in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. 

“Feyre,” he growls, no longer happy to see me, “What the fuck are you doing?”

I roll my eyes, because even the dumbest of men should be able to figure that out my now. 

You’d think he’d pass out or be too paralyzed to talk, but just like Rhysand promised me, the drugs have paralyzed him from the neck down but left him perfectly conscious. 

I want him to see exactly what I’m doing.

Straightening my dress, I saunter over to his desk, eyes scanning the messy papers and folders for what I want.

Three rings, the exact copy of Rhysand’s, sit in a glass box, the shining titanium making them look like treasure. And they are.

But they’ve been here fucking long enough. 

I try to open the box, but it’s locked, so I sigh and grab a paperweight, then smash it to bits.

“You do this, Feyre, and I’ll come after you.”

“Ooooh, scary,” I deadpan, completely writing him off in a way I know drives him crazy.

Glass flies everywhere, but I just grab the rings and put them on whatever fingers they’ll fit on. 

Yet another piece of evidence men are idiots: I was wearing Rhysand’s ring when I walked in here.

A small detail, sure, but when I took that ring from him yesterday in his car, I made a vow to never take it off.

It’s a little big, resting on my thumb, but it’s perfect. 

It means I’m his, and he’s mine.

“He might have Chicago, but I’ll make you’re life miserable!”

“You did that for two years,” I remind him with a smile.

Then I set the radio exactly like I’d been told to, turn back to Tamlin, punch him square in the jaw, and smile when I hear a crunch.

That wasn’t exactly part of the plan, but I was tired of his threats. 

He howls in pain, and I know it makes me meaner than an adder, but I blow him a kiss and laugh as I walk out of his office. 

A sleek black sedan, driven by the very much alive Rolando (I’ve officially stopped thinking of him as Beefcakes), waits for me at the curb. I swing the door open and climb in, turning to Rhysand with a grin.

I hold up my hands victory. 

Rhysand smiles and laughs, relief and love and awe written across his beautiful features. 

He’s so fucking handsome, I can’t hold out anymore.

Muttering an apology to Rolando for what he’s about to witness, I sling myself across the leather seat and pretty much attack Rhysand. 

It might be the fact that I just drugged someone with illegal substances--my very first crime!--or maybe just how he looks when he’s happy. I don’t really care.

My hands are on his jaw, running down his chest, tangling in his hair. 

He lets out a surprised laugh as I paw at him, and I use the opportunity to sweep my tongue into his mouth, holding back a moan at the taste of him.

The car stops, but I sure as hell don’t.

Until Rhysand takes me shoulders in his hands, and gently pulls away. “Adrenaline junkie,” he accuses with a smile, pressing one last kiss to my cheek. 

I nod, because it’s probably true.

He gives me an amused look. “Then I can’t wait for what happens in twenty minutes.”

I stick my tongue out at him, ever the mature adult, and he smiles. Then he takes my hands, examines the rings, and takes the two that fit the worst.

He slips them on, and even though it’s a casual gesture, I almost break out into tears.

Too manly to cry like a baby, Rhysand just opens the door and walks out, taking my hand and pulling me with him.

Even though he looks calm and cool as a cucumber, I know he’s not exactly thrilled I’m here. We had our first real argument about me coming along for this part of the plan I’ve secretly begun to call Toppling Tamlin the Tool. 

I won, obviously.

He warned me time and time again about what I was going to witness today, but I don’t care. His revenge is his to take, but I want to be here for him. 

He’s been fighting for so long, completely alone. 

And no matter how it started, I fell for him. He isn’t alone anymore, and won’t be ever again, no matter how dangerous the situation is.

Hand in hand, we stroll into Leperchaun’s Luck, the last remaining Irish stronghold in Chicago.

When I asked why he’d let it remain all this time, Rhysand smiled that cruel smile and said, “Revenge is only worth it if it’s slow and painful.”

I’d shuddered, half in horror and half in excitement.

I know it’s horrible and beyond absurd, but what he does for a living doesn’t scare me. He explained the gory details last night, and I listened. And even though I was scared, it wasn’t of him.

It was for him.

He has enemies with rap sheets longer than my arm. 

The guy Rhysand blocks from buying Degas? Russian arms dealer!

But Chicago, he’d told me with a smile, is his. Someone would have to be suicidal to come after him here. So I guess I’ll just blow up his plane and never let him leave.

Sounds realistic.

I’d like to think it was my smile and charm that made him give in and let me tag along, but it was likely the fact that we aren’t in any super big dangerous. 

We walk through the empty bar and to the courtyard in the back, and it’s a little amusing how quickly the six men sitting around a poker table jump to their feet and start shouting questions. 

“What the fuck?” is the most popular. 

“Hello, gentlemen,” Rhysand greets smoothly, ever the gentleman. 

Someone behind us loads a gun, the sound making my eyes go wide. 

But it’s never fired.

Because all of a sudden, red dots are on every single chest besides mine and Rhysand’s. 

“Pull that trigger, McCallen, and all your friends die.”

They all look down and around at each other with huge, saucer-sized eyes. 

Not one to dally, Rhysand smiles and tells the group, “I just bought this establishment. Needless to say, you’re no longer welcome. In here, or Chicago. You have six hours to leave my city.”

‘Bought’ is a bit of a strong word. He hacked into Tamlin’s bank account and bankrupted him, forcing him to sell to the highest bidder. Guess who that was.

“Or what?” one asks, feeling brave.

Another dot makes its way to his chest.

Gods, how many snipers does Rhysand have?

“Or you’ll die, and your precious little daughter Lena will be an orphan.”

The man’s jaw sets, even as his face pales. 

Checking his watch with a casual gesture, Rhysand reminds, “Six hours and counting.”

Then he says, directly at the small box in the middle of the poker table, “That goes for you too, Tamlin.” 

Since he didn’t want to risk coming back to Chicago, much less his last property here, Tamlin had been keeping control of his men by listening to everything that happened in this place on a private radio frequency.

Which, somehow, Rhysand knew.

He’d told me the number, and I’d turned the radio in Tamlin’s office to it before leaving. The drugs haven’t left his system and won’t until later today, meaning he’s still lying limp in that chair, listening to every word.

“Leave before I lose my patience,” Rhysand growls, and the men take the warning and haul ass out of the building.

Turning to me, he smiles and asks, “Ready, Feyre darling?”

“Ready.”

We walk out of the restaurant again, pep definitely in our steps, then get back in the car. Rolando starts driving immediately, leaving the restaurant behind us.

“Do you want to-”

“Yes,” I answer immediately, grabbing the phone from him and hitting call.

"So violent,” he murmurs with a smirk, turning in his seat to watch as the explosives he’d placed there years ago during a mandatory “city inspection” finally came into use. 

The explanation I got on that one: “In case I got bored.”

Gods, he’s sexy.

The car rocks slightly as orange and blue and yellow flames race out of the building, leaving absolutely nothing behind. 

Even though the violent woman in me wants to keep watching, I look at Rhysand instead.

His eyes find mine, and he smiles softly. “It’s done. It’s over.”

I nod and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, linking our hands together. We both stare down at the rings. “It’s over.”

Tamlin will run back to wherever he’s been the past seven months, and since there’s absolutely nothing for him here, he won’t come back. 

Rhysand has complete control of the city again, his empire built brick by brick through hard work and rage. He’s gotten his revenge, taken everything from the man who left him with nothing. 

And he got me.

“Was that enough adrenaline for you, Feyre?” he asks, hitting a button to roll up the barrier between us and Rolando. 

Someone else, it seems, is an adrenaline junkie. 

Smiling, I slide down on the soft leather and lift an eyebrow. “Come find out.”

~Feyre, three months later~

Somehow, I feel nauseous, excited, and doomed all at once.

I don’t even know how that’s possible, but it’s true.

I’m so nervous, I might be sick. I’m so excited, I can hardly walk. I’m so unsure of myself, I might fail. 

Focusing on the one in the middle, I walk down the aisle between chairs, ignoring the people watching me and focusing on the destination.

I can feel his eyes on me, and just like the first day we met, I can hardly breathe. But I ignore the tingly feeling in my spine and focus on what I’m doing.

I walk up to the slightly lifted stage in the large auditorium and turn to my peers, smiling and feigning confidence. 

I’m presenting my senior project today. And even though I’m excited and nervous and doomed, I’m proud of it.

It turned out better than I expected, honestly. 

It took me forever to finish the painting aspect because I wasn’t quite satisfied until late last night. 

The paint’s interrupted and surrounded by photos I’ve collected this year.

Rhysand, covered in paint. Art from both Chicago’s museum and the private collection I visit almost every day. Random bits of architecture and the night sky and shots that just work. 

Up close, it’s a bit of a mess, but from a distance--particularly, the distance between me and Rhysand’s chair--it looks like three dancers, twirling and leaping under the night sky. 

My professor hugged me when she saw it. So did Rhysand.

No offense to Prof. Jones, but I enjoyed his a little more.

“This is called Starlight Dancers,” I tell the room, my voice surprisingly level. I’m glad for the bright lights, because I can’t see anyone’s actual face as I continue. “It’s a rendition of Degas’s work, Dancers in Blue, which is my favorite piece. I’ve also incorporated photographs of art and people who mean a lot to me. Like a lot of pieces from the Renaissance, it’s meant to be viewed at a distance.”

I keep talking, going through the difference elements and explaining how, essentially, it’s a celebration of painting and love.

More than once, my eyes are drawn to the photographs of Rhysand, and I find myself searching for him in the crowd. 

I also get a little distracted by the mass of sparkles adorning my ring finger.

We’ve been engaged for three days, eight hours, and a handful of minutes.

He proposed in the museum, right where we met. When I almost feinted at the site of the biggest diamond I’d ever seen and told him it was too much, he’d just laughed and said, “It was this or the painting behind you.”

Ridiculous, wonderful man. 

I know it’s fast to get married after less than five months together, but the scary truth is that I can’t imagine life without him.

I scan the crowd again, and it might be my imagination, but I think I see a pair of violet eyes watching me. 

And I could swear one winks at me.

~Rhysand~

I’m not supposed to be in here.

I’m not a professor, and I’m sure as shit not a student. 

But I snuck in anyway, ignoring the millions of things I actually need to be doing, because I want to support her. 

I don’t even know what she’s talking about--impressionism and romantic elements and different types of photography--but she’s so passionate and beautiful, I can’t take my eyes off her.

She has me completely wrapped around her finger, and it should probably scare me that I don’t even care.

Years and years of planning, and everything that’s happened in the past month still surprised me.

Not the part about running every last Irish bastard out of my city; that’d been set in stone. 

The part about me getting engaged.

Ironically, that’s the only part that makes me smile.

Sure, I sent Tamlin running for the hills with his ragged band of leprechauns, set his stronghold on fire, and finally have peace over what happened all those years ago. 

But even that pales in comparison to waking up next to the woman up on the stage.

She’s a bed hog and always puts her freezing feet on me as soon as I crawl next to her, but the way she smiles at me when she wakes up makes up for it.

Everything about her makes up for it, actually. 

She’s still absolutely crazy and wonderful and I now have paint splatters on more than a few of my suits, but being loved by her is like... standing in the sun after being locked in a cave. Or some other shitty metaphor.

The fucking point is, even though getting down on one knee in a museum and asking her to share her life with me is the last thing I expected to happen, I’m glad it did.

Because being with her gives me something I’d thought I’d lost ten years ago: happiness.

________________________________________

Thank you for reading! 

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[imagine-always-and-forever]

Flutterings & Tequila - Part 13

A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: you’ve decided to go clubbing with your best friend the last summer before college starts to take your mind off of the Mikaelsons who have invaded your life this summer. Specifically, you’re trying to distract yourself from Niklaus Mikaelson and the flutterings he has caused you. Tequila is your friend tonight.

Part Summary: Clue hunting.

Warnings: typical stuff you’d see in the show

Word count: 3,115

Tags:  elle88531,  violentmommabear42, pisicakawritesshitatfour, a-quarter-horse-called-biscuit, hoeofnjadaka, thegingerthatwaited, despressolattes, aomi-nabi, pie46733, (let me know if you want to be tagged or I missed you out on the tag list!)

Authors note: so I’ve been saying I’d get back to this for ages. I know. But truthfully I hit such a brick wall that writer’s block as a concept had to add another tier to it’s existence just for me. Thankfully, for no clear reason whatsoever, it poofed away as some strong desire to write this again came to me after work. So... tada? Also I am sorry but so so many of you asked to be tagged (I’m very flattered!!!) that I think I’m missing a bunch of people. If I missed you send me a message and I’ll add you to the list. Enjoy 😊

Part 1  |   Part 2  | Part 3  | Part 4  | Part 5  |  Part 6  | Part 7  | Part 8  | Part 9  | Part 10  | Part 11 | Part 12

You’re trembling slightly as you walk down your stairs, breath coming out shakily as you try to calm yourself down. You had 24 hours to find out at least something about what the Mikaelsons were doing here. 24 hours and no clue where to start.

  Through the back window you could see Klaus and Elijah making their way out of the guest house. Their expressions were drawn and Klaus had a small black bag clutched in his hand. Your eyes darted to the door to the house. Were you that stupid?

The fact that your feet were already moving you forward gave you a clear yes, but at least you could report back to Josie that you did, despite her belief, have some sort of self-preservation. It was just a really fucked up kind.

  The door to the guest house opened with ease. Of course the Mikaelsons didn’t think to lock it. What was the point? Who would try to get in to their home without their permission and who would live to tell the tale?

  Well, hopefully you.

The painting supplies were still right where you left them. Your eyes swept across the room in front of you, cataloging what you saw. You’d helped Josie redecorate last summer, but it looked like the Mikaelsons took it upon themselves to do some of their own renovations. It was a little bit embarrassing how little of the place you’d payed attention to when you were here with Klaus.

 They’d rearranged half the furniture for gods sake and you hadn’t noticed at all. With a frown on your face, you examined the new layout of the room. You wondered what prompted the rearrangement. The couches being moved about made sense to give Klaus extra space for his easels. But what was the purpose of switching the office area with the dining room?

  The office, which you were truthfully rather proud of last summer, looked like Elijah’s doing. Two bookcases now sandwiched in the desk against what was supposed to be the accent wall of the room. Not a single bit of the pop of color on the wall was visible now. The imposing set up didn’t even look touched. You could feel your eyebrows tense as they tried to furrow further with your deepened confusion. Dust collected across the books on their shelves. You swiped a finger through it. Coated.

It surprised you that Elijah wasn’t as much of a neat freak about his environment as he was abou his appearance. Though, you suspected if he was he’d have spent most of his millennia+ on earth cleaning up after his siblings. You snorted to yourself. Didn’t he already do that?

A blank space on one of the shelves drew your eye. Amongst a sea of books and paperweights, a patch of dustless real estate on an otherwise packed bookcase stared back at you. If those Nancy Drew books you read as a child had taught you anything, that prominent rectangle of empty space meant that something had been moved. And recently.

That, you smiled to yourself, was a lead.

A scan of the desk and the rest of the shelves confirmed that whatever it was hadn’t simply been reorganized. You pulled open the drawers of the heavy oak desk. Pens, paperclips, highlighters, sticky notes, stapler, hole punch, scissors, and more pens. No. Notebooks, empty folders, the coffee maker’s instructional guide. No. Empty space with a single pen cap rolling around. No.

A dead end.

You got down on your knees. The floor was clean. Under the couches, too. The ottoman with the lift up storage option, empty. The side tables small draw with it’s tendency to stick (a single missing screw from Ikea can really screw your building abilities), empty. You moved to the TV console, frustration building.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

You checked the shelves. You were too short to reach the top ones but the Mikaelsons weren’t. You grabbed a chair and stepped up. It was in vain. Careful to put it back as you’d found it, you moved the chair in defeat. You checked the kitchen. Drawers and cupboard were empty. The fruit salad in the fridge seemed to judge you and you sighed. You didn’t expect it to be in the fridge but it was almost eight at night and you’d torn the downstairs of this house a part.

 The Mikaelsons could be back any minute and you’d found nothing. What if there was nothing? Had you wasted hours of your short time frame on trying to find something that didn’t exist?

It dawned on you that Klaus’s little black bag just might have –

A groan escaped your lips. What a colossal waste of time. Time that to you did not have to waste. You closed the fridge, head coming down to lean on the cool stainless steel door in defeat. Maybe there was a clue you could find back in the main house. Josie’s room might have something that you could give Jess.

With a deep breath, you straightened up. No point in giving up until Jess’s voice was ordering you to kill yourself. Josie would expect nothing less from you, and in truth, so do you.

As you walked through the house to the door you passed by one of the many shelves you checked and just like in one of those long rumored witch’s intuition stories, something pulled your eye to it once again. Something pulled your eye directly to an unassuming wooden framed photo that you didn’t register as new. So, something you’d had to have seen a million times by now, surely. But why then did it feel so very important to look at it?

You walked over, cautious of this intense urge in your blood. It was often hard to tell with magical urges if something was for good intent or bad.

  The photo was in black and white. A little girl sat on a dock, one tooth missing right in the front. A man in an ornate three piece suit that had to predate the Georgian era stood by her, looking out of place but pleased with himself. Beside him was a boy that looked around your age. He was scowling in the photo. In his had he held something tightly, as if he would die if it were ever lost to him. Your eyes scanned the photo back and forth, that feeling still present. What was it? What were you supposed to see?

  The background of the photo was just water. A lake most likely. There were no lakes here. Where were they? Who were they? You leaned in to get a closer look. The photo quality was bad and it wasn’t until you looked hard that you realized it wasn’t a photo at all. A painting. A small, incredibly detailed painting.

  Klaus?

But no. How? You knew this painting wasn’t unfamiliar to you. You also knew that some how you had never noticed it. How could you go so long seeing something so often, convinced it was just a photo of something unimportant?

Almost like magic. Why would anybody spell this little painting with an unnotable spell? More specifically, why did Josie (because it had to be her) cast this spell when you were the only other person than her to see it? You didn’t have guests usually. It was why you had been so surprised when she had announced the renovation of the guest house last summer.

  The moment the skin on your fingers touched the painting’s surface, a vision clear as an actual photo slammed into your mind’s eye. Blinded by the image, nothing existed but it and you were enraptured what you saw.

  It was the exact image that had been painted, but the details were sharp. You could see the threads of the man’s suit. The pours of the little girl. The splintered wood of the old dock. Everything of the moment preserved perfectly in a snapshot.

  There was no sound. You felt nothing from the scene. This was not a vision of the past that let you experience the moment with those in it. You could see the wind sweeping through the girl’s locks but you couldn’t feel a thing. This was the scene of the painter through the painter’s very eyes.

But who’s eyes? And who were these people?

You looked focused on their faces. The little girl’s slightly downturned nose and her rounded jaw clicked in your mind as your eyes rested on her’s. Josie. A young Josie. This made sense. This was a memory Josie had that she wanted to keep private. But why? And why keep the painting if she wanted it secret? The man beside her was probably her father, right? 

As your eyes shifted to his features and they sharpened into view for you, Josie’s body blurred away. No, you realized. That was not Josie’s father. Though you had never met the man or seen his photo before, you knew this was not him. Because this was Elijah Mikaelson.

  At least it made sense now how they knew Josie. Old friends indeed. But what on earth was Elijah doing standing on a dock on some lake with a Josie when she was a child and a boy? As your eyes darted to the boy, the change of the image didn’t surprise you. Josie and Elijah blurred and he came into focus.

  Despite not having known him for as long or studying his face too much, it was clear by his eyes that you were staring at a teenage Jess.

You gasped and were ripped from the image.

  Around you, the guest house came back into view. In your hands, clutched tightly, was the photo. Your heart rate was up and you didn’t know when you had started to breath so quickly or so hard. You blinked your dry eyes. Josie, Jess, and Elijah?

  The sound of wheels pulling up on the gravel drive had your head shooting up. They were back. You didn’t have time to get to the house and though beautiful, Josie’s flower filled garden didn’t actually give you much cover to hide. Without a second thought, you dashed up the stairs.

  The bathroom door was open and from downstairs, it was easy to see. Too obvious someone was here. The bedroom beside it was locked and you didn’t have time to find the spare key somewhere on top of the door. The closet next to it was too small with the vacuum in it. It wouldn’t do. You spun around, unsure how close the Mikaelsons were and if they were listening. 

The other bedrooms had their doors open. Shit. Too suspicious. One door, directly across from the stairs remained. Could you even make it before they opened the door?

You didn’t have a choice. The handle to the room jiggled and the door clicked open. You slipped inside and went to close it as gently as possible when the front door opened. You froze. The door was still a jar. They’d notice if for sure.

“Well that was fun,” Kol sighed and you heard him flop onto the couch.

  “It wasn’t supposed to be fun,” Rebekah huffed and her heels clicked on the floor as she made her way through the house.

  “Drink?” Elijah asked nobody in particular.

“I’m going to bed,” Rebekah said with a short tone and you almost squeaked in fear as you realized she was starting up the stairs.

  “Don’t be so dramatic, sister!” Kol called after her.

  “You’re a reckless idiot without a scrap of self-control,” she seethed back.

“It’s not like he actually liked you,” Kol scoffed.

Something expensive sounding shattered followed by Kol’s laugh.

  “May I remind you that this is not our home?” Elijah’s calm voice of reason came.

  You waited with baited breath for something to happen next. If Kol could get one more quip in to make Rebekah break something else you could use the distraction to close the door properly.  

“What happened?” Klaus said, evidently just entering the house.

  “I’m going to bed,” Rebekah stated and you closed your eyes as a curse tried to come out of your lips.

  “Sister,” Klaus stopped her and his voice was much closer now. He was on the stairs with her, you guessed. “You cannot get angry every time one of your many suitors gets eaten by our brother. You know how he is,” he explained in a hushed voice with a taunt.

Something smashed against the wall again.

“KOL,” Elijah reprimanded.

  A thud sounded against the wall and you reached for the door, ready to close it if another opportunity struck.

  “Enough property damage,” Klaus told his brother.

  “It was her fault anyway. You know it,” Kol argued.

“I was getting him to trust me,” Rebekah’s voice was further away. She must have joined her brothers down stairs again.

“And that involved opening your legs for him, did it?”

You knew it was coming so as Rebekah jumped to attack her brother, you ceased the moment to shut the door. The soft click would be lost to them as they tried to pull their sister and brother apart.

  The room you were in hadn’t been touched since the renovation. You walked over to the window to see if there was any feasible way down.

  “Deal with it,” Klaus’s voice came from just outside the door. 

You whipped around, eyes wide, as you realized they solved the little dispute far faster than you thought they would. You dropped to the ground as you heard Elijah reply to his brother. The door clicked open as you lifted the duvet and scooted yourself as quietly as possible under the bed.

  Luckily, Klaus’s instructions invoked a lot of opinions from his siblings. He stood in the doorway and barked out orders at them. Something else was thrown. As you spelled your breath silent, you spared a thought for all the things you’d have to replace by the time the Mikaelsons moved out.

Klaus shut the door with a harsh thud and switched on the light by the bed. You squeezed your eyes shut at the sheer bad luck you had that this of all the rooms was his.

  Klaus moved around the room, silent except for his steady breathing. Something was placed delicately on a surface in his room. Then, he moved to the window and you heard it slide open. He breathed deeply. The rustling sound of fabric peaked your interest. Something landed on the bed. The unmistakable sound of a zip had a flush come to your face. Oh no.

  Another thing was thrown on the bed. You imagined Klaus’s shirt and jeans piled on his sheets. This was bad. He was going to bed. You were going to be stuck down here for the night.

Klaus opened his door. Huh? And then he left. Wait what?

Cautiously, you lifted the duvet and peeked out. Nothing. You scooted to the other side of the double bed, wincing as the underneath spring of the bed caught your hair and it pulled. The other side confirmed that he had definitely left and shut the door behind him.

  Apparently the plus side of hiding under the bed of a paranoid hybrid with even his siblings at times out to get him was that he kept his room strictly closed off to everyone else.

  You scooted out from under the bed. The window, now open, was your best bet. Who was to say if the path to the door was empty or if you could open the front door without alerting anyone. A well timed cushioning spell would make the rose bush you’d land on hurt a little less. The thorns would still be a bitch though.

  A sudden realization hit you that you forgot the painting at some point in your scooting. You rushed back to the bed and had to scoot back under a bit to reach it. As your hand touched it, you were once again rushed into the snapshot of the scene.

This time you knew you weren’t the painter. You looked down to your right at the top of Josie’s head. To your left was Jess. This was Elijah’s view. Which meant, if you looked straight ahead you’d most likely see –

It wasn’t Klaus.

  You frowned. You were sure it would be Klaus. But you didn’t recognize the man painting on the tiny canvas in front of him with a concentrated look on his face. He had brown thinning hair and a sullen face with cupid bow lips and a nose people would pay good money for. He was an odd man that was handsome and not. You wondered who he was and tried to get the image to focus in further to find some distinguishing feature of some sort.

You were once again ripped back into reality as you registered the sound of footsteps outside the door. The window would have to wait and you dived back down and rolled under the bed, hitting you head as you did so. You bit your lip in pain as the door opened.

Klaus was back.

  You couldn’t say if he was gone long or not as you had no idea how much time you had been lost to that vision. It didn’t seem long, but then again they never did.

  Klaus sighed. The distinct sound of a towel rubbing against hair was the only sound in the room for a while as you put together that he just came from a shower. So, he was probably naked. You bit your lip for a different reason. You listened as Klaus toweled himself dry. He pulled a drawer open and assumingly put on some kind of clothing. You hopped it was at least a pair of underwear.

The bed dipped as Klaus sat. The lamp was clicked off. Shuffling from above. The bed dipped in different places as Klaus got comfortable. As luck was not your fan, he settled directly above you. You didn’t dare scoot one way or another. He’d surely hear it.

So you were spending the night here then. Great.

Klaus fidgeted above you again, having the gal to not find a comfortable position for the night. You stared at the springs and mattress centimeters from your face in annoyance. To be fair, this could have been the comfiest floor in the world and you still wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Not with Klaus above you and the rest of the Mikaelsons scattered about the house. No hope of escape until morning.

  A sharp inhale cut through your self pity. Another one. Was he…?

[snowgoldwaylon]

Ring of Fire - Alex Mason X Reader

Mason saves you from an apartment fire. Are you happy? No. But, did you just meet a very attractive man? Yes.

TW: Strong language, fire, eventual fluff!

"Alex Mason! Meet me in my office please!' Is what Mason heard after a long, hard, and hot training.

Mason felt anxiety by the way his drill sergeant spoke to him like that. So, Mason hauled ass to the office, and stood professionally until the drill sergeant finally came in.

"Ma'am" Mason said with confidence, in attention.

"At ease Lieutenant. Now, take a seat. I have something to discuss with you." She said, sitting down and pulling a file out.

Mason took a seat, and watched her pull a thick, yellowish file from her desk. She opened it and layed out several pieces of paper in front of Mason so he could see everything. He took a closer look and saw something for the local fire department, a look of confusion clouded his face.

"Lieutenant Mason, you are being asked to take part in giving a hand to the Fair Banks Fire Department. Their chief has been layed off for a while due to a recent building fire, and they need men. And you just so happen to be the perfect candidate for helping out!" The drill sergeant said, pulling out a cigarette.

Mason was hesitant, he didn't know how to feel. He was afraid that he might fuck up and get someone hurt. Or worse, killed. But, he already worked in that part of the field. One mistake and it means death.

"Drill Sergeant Rivers, I don't have the proper training for this kind of thing. So why am I being picked?" He questioned.

She hit her cigarette and exhaled. She shot a glaring look back at him, while reaching for a pen nearby.

"Mason, they wouldn't just send you in with no training. They are offering on the job skills training and certification. You provide won't even be working there for very long anyways, they just need help until the Chief comes back. So that means, you'll be chief Alex Mason for a whole three months!" Rivers spoke, ashing her cigarette.

Rivers slid him a pen, and gave a devious smile. She pointed to the words on the contract as she spoke.

"We'll still be paying what you make here hourly, and they will also pay you for the position. You'll receive a work vehicle, and housing options if you are interested. But, if you will, please sign here, and here. And then finally, date this at the bottom."

Mason sighed, and grabbed the pen.

"I really hope this isn't a stupid idea, Drill Sergeant Rivers. I'll still have my position here in the Marines, right?" Mason asked.

"Of course, Lieutenant. You are the best of the best. Besides, I don't think Frank would last very long without you." She said with a chuckle.

Mason signed the papers, and slid them back over to Rivers. She quickly and carefully tucked them away safely into the left pocket of the folder, and set it off to the side.

"Thank you, Mason. The Fire Department is going to welcome you with open arms, and everyone is going to greatly appreciate what you are doing. Now, why don't you get on out of here and head over to the Fire Department. The director is anticipating your arrival at 0700 hours. You are dismissed."

Mason stood up, and quickly saluted Rivers. He turned on his heel, and gathered his things. Woods come up to him and patted his back. Mason looked back at Frank.

"Man, what was that about? Sounded like you were in some hot ass water. Did she find out about last weeks breakout?" Woods asked with a smirk.

Mason slapped him, and told him to stay quiet. Mason rolled his eyes, and started walking. Woods followed close.

"No, she didn't. I actually have gotten assigned to something new all together, but just for 6 months. So it looks like you'll be a lone wolf until I get back." Mason said.

"Wait, where in the fuck are you going? And when the hell are you comin' back??" Frank asked as they stepped into the elevator.

Mason clicked up, and the doors shut. It took them up to ground parking.

"I'm filling in for a Fire Chief for a while, I got personally hand picked for the job is what I got told."

"Well brother, you can't argue with that. We are still gonna have boys night on Friday's, right?" Frank asked, before getting out at where the elevator stopped.

Mason laughed, and nodded.

"Of course man, as always. Bring a 30 pack this time!" He shouted to Frank as the door closed.

"My ass!" Frank called out.

Mason patiently waited as it took him up. The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. He walked to his pickup truck and got in. He slammed his door shut and laid his head back onto his seat.

'I hope I don't fuck up.' Was all he repeated to himself.

Months later......

Mason was heading to his office with a newly made friend, Dixon. Dixon was a higher up who worked with everyone, so he frequented Mason. They had coffee in hand, and were ready for safety reports.

"Oh shit, Dix. Do you remember any information on the structure at the controlled burn on the corner of Euclid and Odin we did? I need details for my JHA but I can't recall shit for some fucked reason." Mason asked as they both sat down.

"I can tell you that it had 5 stories, and over 50 apartments in it. Oh, it stood next to Crane Run Bakery. The ignition was faulty wiring, right?" Dixon responded.

"No, it was a gas line pipe. The faulty wiring happened at that bowling alley on Curtis Avenue. But thank you, hopefully I can get this JHA filled out how I should!" Mason said.

Dixon went on with Mason for about 30 minutes about baseball and football. Mason filled out his paperwork, ordered new parts for gear and trucks, and inspected everything with a fine tooth comb. It was a normal night shift for the fire crew, until the alarm system began to wail.

"We have a structure fire on Linden Ave, at 26435 Linden. Possible civilians trapped." Dispatch called through the speakers.

Within minutes, the whole shift was suited up and already in the truck and headed Northbound. Mason was behind the wheel, lights and sirens at full blast. The roads were dead at this time, minus the few cars that happened to be out at 2 AM.

"Dispatch, tell me what we're looking at. I have another truck enroute to said location, and about three ambulances. How high are flames?" Mason asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Dispatch here, we have flames about 20 feet up and rising. Recommend you get here quick."

"10-4." Mason responded.

They reached the fire within minutes. When they pulled up the fire was quickly engulfing anything in it's way. Mason knew what needed to be done. But right now, they needed a buidling sweep for any possible trapped people.

"Dixon, set up a crew to stay on hoses, bring about four out and hookup. My team, your with me! We are going in!" Mason said.

Mason put on his face gear, and quickly looked around for a way in. He spotted a perfect way in through a safe looking way. He quickly pointed his team that direction, and headed in. He always made sure to go ahead of his crew so he could determine what was happening.

He got in, midst the hot heat, heavy flames, and the small mist screen of water he'd feel periodically. He lead the way, and began to check every corner and possible place to hide he could. They swept the buidling for a grand total of 30 minutes before Mason determined it was clear.

"Head back everyone. Everything is clear, no indication of anyone." Mason said through the radio.

Everyone headed outside, Mason being left so he could check more. By now, the flames were out. The only thing left was smoking ruble and hot ashes. Mason carefully looked around, and looked even closer at a piece of burnt wood that was beginning to move.

Without thinking, he pulled it back, and revealed a small door that had shut, but by either luck or circumstance, hadn't been burned. Mason soon heard pounding on the metal door, and he went to open it. But it was behind blocked by something.

He struggled to open it completely, the pounding was now more frequent. He pulled with all his might, but it wouldn't budge. He could hear the sounds of a female crying, and begging for the door to be opened. Mason's adrenaline kicked in at this moment.

"I found a live one! Bring in a large ax for me, this damn for isn't opening!" Mason shouted into the radio.

"Miss, I'm going to need you to step away as far as you can from the door! We are going to cut it open! Shield your face until I get you!" Mason yelled.

He took out his small ax, and began to chop away at the hinges. But, the small ax could stand no chance against the hard metal. Instead, he quickly turned and saw Dixon with the industrial ax. He took it, and with brute strength, he swung done with control and accuracy.

The hinges slowly began to break away, until finally the door popped right off. Mason gave the ax back, and quickly threw the door off. He looked back down inside, and saw a girl about his age, coughing her lungs out. He wasted no time, and held his hand out.

She took it, and Mason lifted her out. He quickly adjusted her so she'd be against his back, to where he kept a good grip on her and carried her out. She was covered in black ash and soot, and was damp with water and sweat from the heat.

Once they were out, Mason quickly sat the girl on the gurney and took his respirator off. He secured it around her face, and up to her mouth and nose. The fresh oxygen would help her with breathing, seeing as if her lungs just went through extreme stress.

"Are you alright? Is there anybody else down in that basement?" Mason asked once her breathing returned to normal.

She looked at him, and slipped the mask off.

"No, it was just me. I was just trying to do my laundry for work, and that's when the door slammed shut and I couldn't get out....."

Mason felt a pang in his heart for this beautiful lady.

"Well, you are alright now. We are going to have EMS check you out, and ride you to the hospital to run standard tests." Mason said, giving a smile.

He took his respirator back and turned on his heels. He walked away to regroup with his crew, and Dixon. They cleaned up best they could, and headed back to the station for a shower and change of clothes.

Months After....

Mason sat in the town sqaure, drinking a coffee in his uniform. He was sat on one of the square benches, reading the paper as he waited on Woods. It was Friday, they were going to play poker after a long, exhausting week.

"Excuse me, sir? May I sit with you?" A voice said.

Mason looked up from his paper, and confusion hit him. A familiar looking face flooded his view, but he just couldn't place it. Her face had small bandaids, and a few purple bruises.

"Well, of course. Do I know you?" He questioned.

She sat down, only then did Mason notice the green box in her beat up hands.

"My name is Y/N Y/L/N, you actually saved my life in a fire on Linden street, I talked to a man named Dixon at the fire house to where I could find you.....I have something for you here." She said, handing it to him.

"No Miss, I can't take that. I was just doing my job, I don't need a reward. Seeing you alive and breathing is reward enough." Mason said.

She pushed the small box towards him. The smile on her face was warm, and made Mason feel butterflies.

"Please, I insist." Was all she said.

Mason took the box and opened the lid. Inside was a beautifully made chocolate cake, all kinds of different snacks, and a check of $15,000 dollars.

"Miss, no, I can't. This is way too much money, I will not take it." Mason said, putting it back.

"Please sir, I don't mind. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. It would mean so much to me. If anything, please donate it to your firehouse." Y/N said.

"I will do just that then. We've been needing new parts for months...."

Mason looked back up at Y/N, and smiled.

"I'm Alex Mason by the way, I'm glad to see you are recovering well. Maybe I could take you to dinner sometimes?" He asked slyly.

You chuckled, and nodded.

"Of course, I'd love that.

Taglist: @smokeywhalee @kapanovangswife @americas-monster @wennbergbabe @direwolfspostsrandomshit @kazazure @draw-with-eri @scumbagg @silomotism

[marshmallow-phd]

Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

**

The pencil bounced up and down on the folder lying closed on the table. Several students nearby eyed the noise created by the eraser and metal casing (you had an odd love for a good old fashioned pencil that needed sharpening) but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop, not with all this nervous energy surging through your veins. You really shouldn’t be this nervous. This was only a simple… tutoring session? No, it couldn’t really be classified in that category. He wasn’t going to teach you anything – at least, you didn’t think you would be learning anything in this project. Supervising seemed more appropriate. A direct line in case you were stuck – which, to be honest, you already were. 

When Sungkyu had told you about this extra credit, it had sounded so easy. Even the outline he’d created had been simple. But your usually creative brain had seemingly run dry of the juice that sustained it. Were you finally finding your fatal flaw? Capturing an image, finding the moment in a sea of moments, that was easy for you. Apparently your talent stopped at the ability to apply that skill to anything else. You’d arrived at the library a whole hour early in an effort to have something started by the time Minseok was sitting across from you. But you just couldn’t find the connection between art and math. You weren’t Leonardo Da Vinci. 

“This seat taken?”

Your pencil stopped mid-tap. Face remaining neutral, you looked up. On the other side of the table, Minseok stood casually and waited for an answer. The gray hoodie he’d adorned laid slackly against his torso, hugging his hips where black pants peeked out underneath. One hand held onto the standard backpack hanging off his shoulder while the other was stuffed in his jeans’ front pocket. A sweet, crooked smile stretched across his thin lips. And there your heart went, doing backflips again. With the fear of your voice cracking, you simply gestured to the chair across from you. Nodding, Minseok pulled the plastic seat out from under the table and sat down. “So, how far have you gotten?”

“Not even past the start line,” you admitted. You opened the folder you’d put together for the project to show the pathetic state of your effort. The only scribbles in the margins were from tiny, poorly drawn doodles and some last minutes thoughts from your philosophy class. If someone were to say you were an intelligent person, you would like to agree with them, but this current predicament was making you feel like a fraud. 

Taking the outline out of the folder’s pocket, Minseok scanned over the paper. “You know, art and math are more connected than you think.”

You raised an eyebrow teasingly. “Are you going to give me a lecture on how artists have used math to create measurements in their sculptures or paintings?”

“Well, not anymore.”

You laughed. “I get that there’s a connection. Math makes up everything, right? I just can’t find a real world application between photography and math.”

Minseok pursed his lips to the side, thinking. “Maybe you can use math to help you set up a shot.”

“No,” you shook your head. “Pictures are captured organically. If you think about it too much, it loses its magic.” Pushing yourself up, you leaned across the table. You turned on your camera and angled the display screen so you both could see as you flipped through the pictures from the clearing. A small, appreciative smile crept up on his lips. “Capturing your subject is all about the feeling. It isn’t as easy as doing a math problem and then angling your lens before clicking a button. There’s no heart in that. The focus should be on what’s in front of you.”

“But don’t you adjust the shutter speed and light index and other things to change up the picture to capture what you want?”

You felt like a guppy with your mouth opening and closing as you searched for a response. All your brain could come up with was, “Well… yes….”

“So, you do use numbers in your photography.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

Suddenly, you were Baby put in a corner. 

A non-malicious grin spread across his face. “Just because you don’t realize you’re using the numbers doesn’t mean that you’re not.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the comment. “That sounds an awful lot like a freshman philosophy lecture.”

“Could be. I did only take the one semester for a humanities credit so I could be paraphrasing. But if something stuck then perhaps that’s the one credit that wasn’t a waste of money.”

The laughter coming from you was nonstop. You couldn’t help it. Every little jab and joke he shot off made you feel like you were the only audience member in a comedy club - however, they weren’t gold. The jokes weren’t even that funny. Some of them might not even meant to be jokes. But the bubbly feeling in your stomach pushed its way up and came out before you could fully process his intention. Talking to him was… effortless. And this was barely a conversation. A single warning bell was ringing in the back of your mind. Dangerous territory was near, but you kept walking. Curiosity was a strong attractor.

“So,” Minseok clapped his hands together and folded his fingers, resting his chin on his knuckles. In that single motion, he transformed from the GTA to the optimistic sophomore in his looks. “Can I ask you a question? Besides the one I just did, anyway.” 

You nodded, “Of course.” Anything to keep you from actually having to work on this project. Which, obviously, was very counter intuitive, but you would finish it… eventually. And if you didn’t get too much done today, then that was nearly a guaranteed second session. 

“As a photographer, what would you say is the hardest thing to capture? Like, in a picture?”

You were taken aback. No one had ever asked you that before. You didn’t even think the topic had come up in any of your classes. Different subjects floated through your head as you tried to find the answer to his question. Moving objects was the go-to reply. But some - like human beings - were easy with the tiniest modifications. There was one thing, though, one particular part of nature that you loved but often gave you frustration. “Rain.”

“Rain?”

“Yeah… Catching rain. You can feel it, but you can’t always see it.” You held out your hand, palm towards the ceiling. “The drops could be pouring down from the clouds, hitting your skin, but the camera can’t capture it.”

“So, what do you do then?” He asked with an eagerness, with true attentiveness and interest in your words. It made you sit up. 

“You change your strategy. You slow things down. That’s when it comes out best.”

He nodded slowly. He took in every word you were saying and absorbed it. A warmth spread across your cheeks and you prayed it wasn’t visible to him. Out of nowhere, Minseok cleared his throat and sat back. “Maybe you could use the numbers in the equations.”

You grimaced as you came back to the reason the two of you were here. “That sounds complicated.”

“Okay, then,” he chuckled. “Why not-”

The muddled shrill of a cell phone vibrating against the table. You hadn’t even realized he’d put it there at some point during the conversation. He let out a disappointed sigh as he flipped the device over and checked the identity of the caller. An apologetic look was thrown your way as he answered. “Hello?”

The faint, intelligible voice of another guy echoed through the speaker. Minseok nodded as if the caller could see him.

“Okay. I’ll go now.”

And there was the wave of disappointment. So today was to come to an end already. And you still were no closer to a realization than before. 

Minseok pressed the red button and disconnected the call. The smile that he had on his face earlier morphed into a sadder version. “I have to go.”

“That’s okay,” you reassured him. “Hold that thought for next time.”

A spark flashed in his eyes. Was that a bit flirtatious? How bad was it that you could no longer control the fluctuation in your voice? 

“And when would next time come around?” 

“Saturday?” Eric had to spend the day finishing off the set pieces for the upcoming play. When he was working like that, he could be lost in painting for hours. Getting him on the phone or off the stage would be next to impossible. That seed of guilt was pushing on your stomach again. Hanging out with a guy that made you laugh while your boyfriend was off somewhere else wasn’t a good idea. Maybe you would ask Eric first if he was comfortable with that. If he said no you could always come up with a good excuse to back out. 

“Saturday should work.” In a quick motion, he flipped your folder around and wrote down his number. “Just let me know what time works best for you.” Jumping up from his seat, he threw his bag over his shoulder and started to walk away. But after a few steps, he turned back around. A wide, gum-revealing smile spread across his face as he waved casually. But his smile was anything but casual. In it you saw hope, a possibility of something more. 

I’m in trouble.

You knew it. You knew very well that meeting up with him was going to lead to a terrible predicament. But as he walked away, you’d resigned to follow that rabbit hole anyway. 

Needing a distraction, you hopped up and headed out your own way. There was still another matter you needed to solve and now was the perfect time. With your backpack in the passenger’s seat, you drove out of the parking lot and towards the back roads, taking the same way to the forest you had previously. The wheels of your car matched up almost perfectly with the marks from before. Locking your backpack in the trunk, you pocketed your keys and phone and started hiking. You followed the path to the clearing; your nerves bounced faster and faster the closer you got. 

Immediately, you headed straight for the tree that had been your resting place. The grass was taller in only a few short days. The blades scratched gently at your hands as you pushed the blades aside for a better view of the ground. After circling the area, you had to give up. It wasn’t there. The wolf flashed in your mind. Shaking your head, you ridiculed the idea. The wolf couldn’t have taken your notebook… could it? Certainly if he had there would be remnants of paper still around.

Blowing air through your lips, you sat down at the base of the tree. Now what were you going to do?

A rustling nearby made you jump. Out of the trees, the wolf from before - at least, you assumed it was the same wolf - cautiously came towards you. “Did you take my notebook,” you asked out loud. The wolf pulled back his ears in response. Your eyes widened. “Did you?”

The wolf barked. You had to laugh at yourself. You were having a conversation with a wolf. You felt ridiculous. Again. 

You sighed. “I guess it's just time to face the facts. It’s gone. Eric won’t be too happy with me.”

The wolf growled before coming up next to you and curling up in the grass to your right. He laid his head in your lap. Yes, this was definitely your wolf. What else were you supposed to do if not pet him?

“Eric will just be disappointed,” you said. “Not like, angry or anything. I’ll need to come up with another place to lose it, though. If he found out that I came to the forest by myself, he’d turn red. Especially after-” You froze, your hand hovering over the wolf’s ears. The news of the campers returned to the front of your mind. They were attacked by an animal - a wolf, most likely. Something still told you that it couldn’t have been the wolf currently resting on your legs. How could he be like a puppy with you and vicious towards others?

Noticing your sudden silence, the wolf lifted his head and looked up at you. 

“You didn’t hurt those people, did you?”

The wolf tilted his head to the side. You took that as a good sign. 

Reacting to a sound your own human ears didn’t pick up, the wolf’s ears flicked up as he turned towards the trees. He stood up on his paws and pulled on your sleeve with his teeth so you would do the same. One bark conveyed what he was trying to tell you. “Okay,” you nodded. “I’ll go. But you be careful, too, alright? If there’s something… mean running around here, I don’t want you to get hurt either.”

It still amazed you how this animal could somehow understand you. He reared up on his back paws and placed his front on your chest. You were now looking eye to eye with this giant dog. He gave you a sloppy kiss on your cheek before jumping down and nudging you away. He saw you all the way to the edge of the forest. Disappointment weighed you down as you plopped down in the driver’s seat. And you weren’t sure if it was because of the lost notebook or the wolf you were leaving behind. 

**

Minseok ran through the forest back to the house. This whole “mate pull” was starting to scare him a little bit. He’d been trying to find any clue to the rogue wolf that had invaded their territory but a feeling told him to go to the clearing again. You’d come back. He was both elated to see you again and petrified that you were out here with no protection. If he hadn’t come across you… he shivered at the very thought of what could have happened. When he heard something moving close by he needed to get you out of there; he didn’t care if it was the omega or a harmless rabbit. Seeing you go created a whimper in his chest, but he would see you again on Saturday. Goodbye for now wasn’t something to stress about.  

After running the perimeter for another hour, he headed back to the farmhouse. The conversation from the library followed him through the trees. He’d simply asked a question to keep the conversation going, but he was finding an allegory within your answer. 

You’d said in order to catch the rain in a picture you had to slow things down. Maybe that was the approach he had to take with you. His initial plan had perhaps been a bit too strong. If circumstances were different, it might have worked. But given the fact that he had competition for your heart, that would no longer be a good direction to go in. So he would take it slow. He would get to know you through these small meetings about the project. And he would let you get to know him. Maybe then the pull would grow on your side. Maybe then you would come to him on your own terms instead of him chasing you down. Yes, exactly like rain in a photo.

Now back home with a clear head, he slipped into the jeans he’d hidden in the bushes before walking up to the back door. The kitchen was a ruckus like always as he entered. Most of the pack was home from the university, except for Junmyeon. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol were discussing what to do about dinner while Jongdae and Baekhyun were teasing the younger wolves about… something. Minseok couldn’t really pick up on what they were going on about. No one seemed to notice the eldest’s entrance, but that was alright. Minseok simply grabbed a cup from the cabinet and filled it with water from the tap. Leaning against the counter, he sipped at the room temperature liquid with his eyes trained on the floor. 

“Minseok?”

He looked up at the brother who called his name. The kitchen had quite down a few notches. “Yeah?”

Jongdae gave him that concerned gaze that curled the corners of his lips. “Why were you out running by yourself?”

“I was just trying to see if I could find the omega.” While that was the truth, it wasn’t everything that occurred out in the woods. He was getting closer to telling everyone about finding his mate, just so he didn’t have to tiptoe around anymore. He would see how Saturday went and then he would decide. 

“But why on your own?”

“I sent him.”

Junmyeon came into the kitchen, taking the leather messenger bag that was draped over his shoulder off and placing it on the kitchen table. “It was just a recon mission.” A little smile perked up in the corner of his mouth. Around the room a few eyes rolled, but no one called out the leader’s exaggeration of the situation. “If he was able to find anything then he was supposed to note it and report back.” He looked to Minseok, who shook his head. There was nothing. 

“Still odd that you sent him by himself,” Sehun commented with narrowed eyes. 

“I thought he could use the quiet.”

“You are all too loud,” Minseok jumped in. Several voices roared in protest, not realizing that they were instead proving his point. 

“What’s for dinner?” Jongin asked, the subject immediately being changed. What a relief it was that they all had a powerful focus on their stomachs - especially when they were empty. Minseok took the opportunity to finish off the water and head upstairs to take a shower.

[burnedbyshoto]

Who Do You Belong To?

Kinktober Day 6  ~ kink: brat taming

pairing: aizawa shouta x fem!reader

warning: smut, cursing

word count: 4,280

a/n: so.... this is for sure the longest full smut scene I’ve written. it ended up being 5 whole pages... I like it a lot, I think its one of my best ones to date!!!! but yeah anyways, who wouldnt want to be fucked to submission by aizawa????

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

There were often moments in life that made you reflect on the reasons why they happened.

It was currently nine at night, and you were still in the office working. Your stomach growled quietly again as your lips pressed together. Why the hell were you of all people getting kept here this long? You were a secretary, not a goddamn creator. Alas, it didn’t matter because your boss specifically asked you to stay, and you could not say no.

Well… you could say no, but you didn’t because you don’t think things out to the fullest extent. Your eyes trailed back to your boss who was currently placing papers into stacks. What seemed like his forever tired eyes were half opened as he did so.

His eyes snapped up to yours as if he could sense that you were staring at him. “Y/l/n-san,” He calls out, his voice husky from his lack of using it for the past five hours.

“Yes, Aizawa-sama?” You respond back, your cheeks tinting pink at getting caught looking at him.

“I’m sorry for keeping you in late, food is actually here if you’d like to go get it? We’ll eat and then we’re free to go?”

You nod your head in agreement, a grateful smile on your face as you stand up. “I hope it’s nothing from the cat cafe,” You tease as you begin walking away. Your heels clicking against the cold marble floors.

“That place has the best snacks, and you can’t deny that.” Aizawa chuckles as you roll your eyes, entering the elevator.

Best snacks your ass.

You went down many floors and saw a young man with a bag of food waiting outside the locked doors.

“For Aizawa?” The man asks, and you nod your head. Smiling as you took the bag from him and bid him a good night.

The bag was warm. It wasn't from the Cat Cafe seeing that it wasn’t inside of the outrageous pink bag they provided for takeouts. You went back to the elevator and went up the floors until you were back. You walk back over to Aizawa who seemed at the very least cleaning up.

“Dinners here!” You exclaim as you enter his office opening up the bag. You discover two salmon bowls from the one corner store you loved. Your jaw dropping as you feel grateful for him buying this. “Now I feel bad for making fun of you!”

Aizawa snorts as he grabs his own bowl, breaking his chopsticks before even taking off the lid. “You’re jealous that you can’t pet cats when you’re eating.”

“I may have enough cats at home to not want to go to some Cat Cafe and pay for what I can get at home for free!” You chortle as you take off the lid, sectioning off the salmon into smaller pieces before eating it.

“As do I, but you can never come across enough cats,” Aizawa smirks as you laugh.

“You’re cheating on your cats, that’s what I’m hearing?!”

“If you put it that way, yes. But I am only looking for more cats in my life, to increase my happiness.”

“Sounds like what a cheater would say.”

“Shut up, brat.”

You roll your eyes despite the smile plastered on your face. The two of you fall into silence as you finish eating your late-night dinner.

“I got it,” You say taking Aizawa’s empty bowl from him. “Finish cleaning up, I have a lot less than you do.”

With a grateful smile, you grin back as you take the trash and deposit it into a trash can with a lid. Returning back to your desk, you gathered the papers into neat piles. Putting some into labeled manilla folders before grabbing them. You begin heading back into Aizawa’s office.

“These are the ones that you’re taking home, and this is the one you’re keeping here.” You present the papers and folders to Aizawa who nods.

“What would I do without you?” He asks as you snort.

“Hire another secretary who is only half as amazing as me?”

“True.”

You stared at the three boxes of folders. Aizawa was going to need to take back home with him, and your eyebrows scrunch slightly. “Do you need me to help you take them to your car?” You ask as you know exactly how heavy just one of them is.

“If you wouldn’t mind?”

You stare at the black-haired man and smile at him. Through appearances alone, you would never say he was a CEO of anything. Sure he wore nice suits! But his hair was longer, and his cheeks were almost always stubbly and patchy.

“I’ll help you take them in, too.” You decide. Aizawa’s eyebrows scrunching at your declaration. You can see him piecing together what you meant by that. “I’ll follow you home!”

“Y/l/n—“

“Oh hush, you're on my route anyway!” You exclaim as you grab a box, turning on your heel and walking out. Uncaring for his protests as he catches up to you.

“You know, I liked you better when we first met and all you were was obedient,” Aizawa mumbles as you enter the elevator and smash the garage floor.

“Well, you were intimidating and knew my job better than me! But now you’re simply my boss who doesn’t know how to take care of himself!” You laugh as Aizawa shakes his head in denial. “You said to me, and I quote, ‘I don’t think you’ll last here very long’.”

“I did not!”

“YOU DID TOO! Oh my god, it took everything within me not to cry!”

You smile broadly as his eye roll, and you slip out past him with your head high as the elevator doors open.

“You know I can take multiple trips to and from the car when I get back.” Aizawa insists as he opens your car door for you to let you place in the box.

“Don’t be crazy!” You retort, your hands placing in the box with ease and shutting the door. You walked over to Aizawa’s car and helped him open his own car. You watch as Aizawa places the boxes in, and your eyes lock on his ass as he stretches while he secures everything.

Your eyes widen.

Nope.

Nope.

No!

Aizawa Shouta was an amazing boss! Don’t get it wrong, but you were not going to be some cliche secretary screwing your boss! Besides, you didn’t even know if he had a wife, fiancee, girlfriend or not?!

“Y/l/n-san.” His voice calls to you, breaking you free from your internal panic.

“Y-Yes??”

“You can close the door now? Let’s get going, it’s late as it is.”

“We don’t work tomorrow though, I can stay up.” You mutter, your cheeks flushed as you close the door and scurry to your car. You get in before he can say anything else, and you start up your engine as you wait for him to move.

It takes less than twenty minutes, but finally, you’re pulling into his driveway. You step out of your car and go to the other side to retrieve the box. Your eyes locking on Aizawa who was holding his own two boxes.

“You good?” He asks, and your head nods. It’s too quick to be normal, but he doesn’t ask as he turns down to the entryway. Unlocking the door with ease and letting you in.

His house is surprisingly very neat, it’s organized, and has a modern theme to it that you find to be breathtaking. “You have an amazing house…” You say in awe, as you kick off your heels and put on slippers that weren’t his own.

“I had someone else set it up for me,” Aizawa admits with a shrug. “It is quite amazing though.”

You laugh as you nod, your eyes turning to the heavy box in your hands.

“Where do you want me to put this?” You ask lifting up the box for further emphasis.

“My office space would be nice,” Aizawa says, nodding his head in the direction of where he wanted you to go.

“Lead the way!” You chirp and he sighs, but he gets in front of you and walks towards his office.

You walk into a room that was most definitely an office space, with a large computer, desk, files, and books. It was a honest to god office. Aizawa places his two boxes down, and once again your eyes locked on his ass. You bite down harshly onto your lip as he moves to the side. If only you could get him to fuck you. But Aizawa was a man by the rules, you knew better than to assume he would ever have his way with you. Not while you were ever his employee.

“Go ahead and place it on the floor.” Aizawa nods and you sigh, doing as commanded. You place the box down was a soft thud, adjusting it so that it would lay perfectly parallel to the other boxes. You grunt softly as it’s a bit heavy to slide against the carpet. Satisfied with its placement, your body stiffens as something warm presses into you.

You stand straight up, and your body's pressed against another warm body. Hot breathes of air hitting your neck as the feeling of prickly stubble brushes your ear. “A-Aizawa-sama?” You squeak as you feel his warm hands settle onto your waist, and a lush moan escapes your lips.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist anymore.” He pants against your ear. You can’t believe this is happening. “Is this something you want?”

You nod your head quickly, not trusting your voice at all as your hips move against his pelvis. You relish in his low growl, and you grasp the fabric of his pants, keeping him close to you. “I need you to say it to me, sweetheart.” He growls as he begins to grind his pelvis into your ass, and you laugh.

“I don’t feel like it.”

Aizawa turns you around, his dark eyes blazing into your own, and you smirk. He just had no idea what he was getting himself into.

His lips burn against yours, and your hands find solace in his hair. His lips are demanding, rough, and full of purpose. He groans against your mouth as you give his hair a particularly hard tug. His fingers are gripping your waist tightly. Aizawa's grip is strong enough you believe there’s a possibility that you’ll have bruises from it. You shudder softly as his tongue pressed against your bottom lip, his way of asking for you to open up. But you refuse.

Your lips remain closed as you continue kissing him. You're smirking softly as you can feel his irritation at your disobedience. “I’m going to warn you just this once,” Aizawa speaks against your lips, and he pulls away. Your eyes fluttering open to see his eyes locked on you, annoyed, furious, and yet turned on. “I don’t like it when my kitten is disobedient. “

You let out a sound that could only be close to a purr as your nose brushes against his own. “And I love it when I drive men crazy, it looks like we’re in a disagreement, ne?”

Aizawa’s nostrils flare and his lips come to crash against yours. But you’re two steps ahead and smile when his lips press against your cheeks. “It seems to me that you’re wanting to be a brat,” Aizawa growls as his hands travel up to your breasts, groping them without mercy as you gasp. Your body arching into his chest. “Do you wanna know what I do to brats?” Aizawa mutters in your ear, and your head lolls to the side.

“Let them have their way?” You tease as your hands roam his chest, the feeling of his muscles under his shirt quickly turning you more on.

“I punish them.” Aizawa snaps, his fingers freezing over your breasts.

Your eyebrows scrunch, not at all liking the lack of movement on your breasts. You, however, have no time to complain as you’re tossed over his shoulder. Your shrieks filling the room as he walks away. His hand stays on your ass you try figuring out where he is. You weren’t able to see anything but the floor and his ass.

“Stop squirming.” Aizawa snaps, his fingers pinching the back of your leg and you let out a moan. Why did that feel so good? You gasp as your body gets thrown onto a bed, your hands flying out to stabilize yourself. “Now, let me ask you this. Are you going to behave, or are you going to continue being bratty.” His eyes shine with lust and need. At this moment you don’t know which response would be better, but you did want him losing control. You wanted to see Aizawa pound you into the mattress like no tomorrow.

Your lips lock onto his, your mouth pressing against his like there was no tomorrow. You crawl onto his awaiting lap and sigh when you brush against his growing arousal. You sigh as his tongue pressed against your bottom lip once again, but the smirk on your face makes him pull away.

A sigh leaves his lips as he shakes his head, “I was hoping we could do this the easy way, y/l/n…”

Before you could question those words, you’re thrown onto his lap. Your stomach pressing onto his legs in a very uncomfortable way, it almost hurt to breathe fully. You shifted in an attempt to look at him, but his hand shoved your head back down. His other hand raising your skirt well above your ass.

“Were you expecting to get fucked tonight?” He asks you, and you shudder at his light touches. His fingers gently touching the panties you wore.

“Yes.” You snap, waves of pleasure flowing through your veins as his finger rubs down your slit. Your arousal beginning to seep its way through your folds.

“You’re such a naughty girl,” Aizawa tuts, his finger curling into your heat, and a lewd moan escape your lips. “Do you want to know what I do to naughty girls?”

“Let them have their w-way?” Your voice hitches as he shoves two more fingers into your heated cunt. A sharp intake of breath leaving your lips as he thrusts them in forward and backward. Pained gasps echoed in the room as his fingers leave you without warning.

“I spank them,” Aizawa growls and you can feel his heated palm rest against your bare ass. “You’re going to count for me every single time I spank you okay, kitten?” He asks as his hand rubs a warm circle into your ass. “I want to hear you thank me with every hit, too.”

Before you can retort, his hand comes to spank you hard. The slapping sound echoing as you shudder. Your ass stung from the single hit, but your bit down on your lip defiantly. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your submission.

“What did I fucking tell you to do?” He growls, his hand yanking on your hair.

“Sorry, do you consider that a spank?” You snarl slightly, a cunning smirk on your face as you glance at his infuriated face.

You don’t have time to relish in this situation, however. You feel your body getting shifted further down. Your face almost pressing into the floor as his hands kept your secured against his lap.

“Now, I expect you to fucking count, and say thank you, daddy.”

Your breathing is unstable as his hand now rubs where your cunt and ass are, and his hand comes down hard. You cry out the second his hand slaps against your skin, your body shaking at the impact.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Aizawa growls, and his hand comes down for another hard spank. You scream at the pain-filled pleasure of his smack.

“One!” Your sob is quiet, your ass moving to relieve the stinging pain. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Ah so now you’re not being a brat,” Aizawa growls as his hand comes down again.

“T-Two!” You moan, your face flushed in embarrassment and undeniable lust. “Thank you, daddy!”

His heavy hand comes down on you again, and again, and again. Until you’re a quivering mess underneath him. Until your ass raw and red from this punishment. Until your voice is almost hoarse from your loud screams and moans.

You shake against his thighs, your body weak, and your arousal high.

“Get up,” Aizawa commands, and you follow his order without much resistance. You scrunch your face slightly at the pain that shoots through your body. He did not hold back. “Did that turn you on?” He asks as you quiver in front of him.

He may have just thoroughly abused your ass. It seemed, however, that your fighting spirit still remained.

“N-No.” You stammer, your eyes locked onto his own. His eyebrow cocked slightly as he stood up off the bed, his hands moving to get his belt off.

“Get on your knees,” Aizawa commands, and you still. You don’t listen, choosing to instead glare into his eyes. His hands grip your face, and it takes all your mental strength not to moan at his ferocity. “Who do you think you’re talking to, kitten? Who do you belong to, right now?” He growls as his fingers hold tightly onto your face.

“I don’t know.” You moan as your hands move to sit onto his chest.

His eyes swim in yours, a cold smirk flashing across his face, “I guess I’ll just have to fucking teach you again.”

As if by magic, you’re on your knees. Your shirt removed from your body, and Aizawa lets his pants fall off his waist and onto the floor. You watch with hungry eyes as he strokes his cock in his hands, his teeth grinding as he does so. Licking your lips in anticipation, you get closer to him. Your mouth wanting more than to envelope his long and thick cock into your mouth.

His eyes snap over to you, no longer focused on his cock, and you freeze. Once more pretending not to be at all interested. “Open up, kitten.” He commands, tracing the head of his cock against your lips. Precum slathering against your skin.

Still, you stare at him, unwilling to budge for him, unwilling to open up. His eyes narrow as he glares at you, “You’re such a fucking brat.” He hisses, and he reaches down, pinching your nipple through your bra with ease. Your mouth drops into a moan, and he shoves his length into your mouth without hesitation. “Shit,” He hisses as his hips snap into your mouth.

You gag as he hits the back of your throat at full force. Tears springing into your eyes as you try adjusting to having his length feel bearable in your mouth. You grasp the back of his legs as you open your mouth further, his hips snapping into your mouth with no mercy.

His hair pulling at your hair as he grunts, “Look at me, I want you to look at me.” He growls as you. “Don’t you dare look away.”

The simple command sends pressure through your body. The liquid heat of your arousal soaking through your panties.

You moan around his dick, his hips relentless in their conquest. Your eyes can barely keep themselves locked on Aizawa’s as he fucks your face. “You’re so pretty when you’re choking on my cock, kitten.” Aizawa groans as dick spams within your mouth, and you choke around him. Fire erupting in your lungs from the lack of oxygen, but it feels so good.

You felt the head of his manhood hit the back of your throat as you pulled away despite his grip on your hair. You gasp for breath before going back onto his cock, once more gagging on his length. You repeated the action, feeling Aizawa hit the back of your throat as you sucked his dick. Your fingers shooting forward to play with his balls, fondling them as he curses your name.

It’s your first name this time that escapes his lips, and it sends a spine chilling sensation down your body. You hum as your mouth sinks all the way down his length until your lips brush against the base of his cock.

A feral sound releases from his mouth as he pulls you off his dick, and gets you up onto your feet. “Strip.” He snarls as he moves to take off the rest of your clothes, and you nod dumbly. You wanted him to come in your mouth, but he took that away from you.

His eyes lock over you. Your fingers slow in taking off your bra. Your skirt still bunched around your waist. Aizawa wastes no time in helping you get your skirt off, letting it pool to the ground, and he drops your panties onto it.

He tosses you on the bed, and you giggle slightly as your head is near the footboard. A grin on your face as he comes over to press a kiss to your mouth. His lips are far more gentle than he’s been all night. The sensations making you sigh against his mouth as his tongue slips between your lips.

Your tongue dances around his, avoiding it at all costs much to his annoyance, but you’re smiling. “Even when you barely have energy, you’re still being bratty, kitten,” Aizawa mutters against your lips, his mouth trailing down your neck and you sigh.

“I can’t let my daddy just win,” You moan as his fingers tease your clit, your body arching off the bed.

“Turn around,” Aizawa groans as he shoves your body onto your stomach, you gasp as he shoves your ass into the air. “God, you ass looks so pretty up in the air for me.” He moans, pressing delicate kisses to your skin.

You mewl as you feel his cock tease your entrance. You snap your head around when you feel his weight far closer to you than you would have believed it to be. “You better hold on, kitten,” Aizawa growls as he holds one hand onto the footboard, and one on his cock. “I’m not going to be easy on you, you were a naughty kitten tonight.”

Before you could ask why his feet were getting planted by your hips, his cock rams into your dripping cunt. A shriek ripping from your throat as he pounds into you. Your hand shooting out to hold onto the footboard centimeters from his own hand.

“SHOUTA!” You shriek as he ruthlessly slams into you. His hips coming down so fast your body moves with every thrust. Your moans tumble out of your throat as the bed is quick to move with your movements. It squeaks are loud in your ear alongside his insistent pounding.

“What’s that, kitten?” He growls, his hips hammering into you at mind fogging speed. “What’s my fucking name?!”

“Daddy!” You scream as your pussy throbs around his pounding cock. You’re unable to even throwback your hips in rhythm with him. You were stuck to the mattress, only able to feel his cock entering you at toe-curling speeds. “Oh my god, FUCK you feel so good!”

“You take my cock so well!” Aizawa grunts as he releases one hand from the frame and runs it down your back to press against your clit. Your head throws back, your back arching further into the bed as you scream again. Your pussy clenching with no remorse around his dick. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Do you want to come now, kitten?”

You can only nod your head as the pressure continues to build and build.

“I need to hear your words.”

“Fuck me, daddy, please I need to come so badly!” You sob out as your body trembles under his thrusting, you’re so close you’re seeing stars.

“I knew you would fucking submit.” He growls as his hand slams near you, his hand moving to pinch both your clit and nipple.

That’s all it takes and you come hard around his dick, his name ripping through your abused body as he moans. His knees falling to the mattress as he continues pummeling into you. Chasing after his own orgasm now.

You pant harshly as you move your hips against his own. Your pussy still clenching around his throbbing dick. You hear him expel a wavering sigh, and you can feel him come within you. The heated fluid filling you up as he collapses onto the bed. You moan as you push yourself off the mattress, staring at Aizawa who leaned up to pull you into his body.

The two of you laying there. Your sweat-soaked skin pressed into each other as silence overcomes the room.

“You know, I don’t see why I needed to go to your office to play out this scenario.” You moan as you shift over to grab the rings off your nightstand, slipping them onto both of your fingers. “We could’ve just done it in your home office just as easily.”

“I needed help though, and you had the day off.” Aizawa smiles into your neck, his face nuzzling in closer.

“And you say I’m the brat!” You scoff as your fingers play with his hair and he nods.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, you were perfect.” You whisper as you press a kiss to his forehead.

“Okay…” He whispers as he sits up, “Do you need anything, my love?”

“A wipe would be nice.” You sigh as he presses a kiss to your lips.

“One wipe, coming up.”

[nooneactuallyasked]

Diner Gal - Reggie x Reader Part 8

Requested: It’s a series, there are no requests here!

Word count: 2,560

Warnings: Cursing

Summary: Julie and the Phantoms ( + Flynn ) go to a musical diner/café/restaurant for inspiration and hopefully a future gig but they end up meeting a very special waitress.

Note: This one is really long- the next part will be out tomorrow so be ready for that! Enjoy!

Edit: I FORGOT THE TAGLIST I’M SO SORRYYYYY!!!!!!

Part 1 here   Part 2 here   Part 3 here

Part 4 here   Part 5 here   Part 6 here

Part 6.5 here   Part 7 here

---

“Hey, Diner Gal.”

Y/N smiled at the floor before turning around to face her surprise visitor, “How’s it hanging, Leather Boy?”  She probably wouldn’t admit it out loud but Reggie’s random visits were probably the main reason why Y/N had been arriving at work extra early and leaving extra late. “Alright, Julie is kinda freaking out and getting Flynn to help her pick an outfit and then Flynn freaks out and gets Julie to help her decide on a theme for the marketing stuff. You?” Y/N shrugged, “The usual.”

“So, what can I do you for?” Reggie looked down, a red flush covering his cheeks and the tips of his ears, “Well, I kinda wanted to just hang out because Julie and Luke are “writing some songs” but we all know it’s just a date and Alex is with Willie and I’m willing to bet my left sock that they’re on a date too and I didn’t wanna be alone so I thought that you’re really nice so I came here.” A smile danced on Y/N’s lips and her gaze softened, he was too sweet and just hearing his voice made her cheeks heat up slightly. Reggie’s eyes widened and he met her gaze, a horrified expression painting his face, “Unless you’re busy, sorry, I’ll- I’ll just go-“

“Woah, Reg, chill out. I’ve just got to plan out the way we’re gonna decorate the room on Friday. Plus, I like having you around, it makes my job a lot less boring.” Y/N smiled before grabbing a black notebook an opening it to a new page, she scribbled down a title so she’d remember what it was for before bullet pointing her ideas. “You know, I just realised, how much work do you do? I mean, you’re around the same age as us, you have a job and you basically co-manage this place whilst also working here as an entertainer. Do you even go to school?”

Y/N chuckled and turned to face him, “This is a part-time job but I do usually sneak in extra hours just to help out Cal, he can’t do everything by himself and there isn’t anyone else to help him, plus he’s a family friend and basically my uncle at this point. As for school, I do online school which I pay for with this job, and it all comes full circle.” Reggie frowned, “Still, it sounds like a lot. You should come to Julie’s sometime during practice and just hang out. No folders, no notes, no work, just hanging out and having a good time! And  promise me you’ll start taking it easy”

“Alright, Leather Boy, I promise and maybe I’ll take you up on that someday. But for now, just focus on your gig that’s coming up in two days, not including today of course. Speaking of, do you mind helping me out with this, I get the impression you have a lot of ideas locked up in that brain of yours.” Reggie looked at her in surprise, “You really want my help? I mean, you could ask anyone for help, why me?” Y/N stared at Reggie, her brows furrowing as a  worried expression crossed her face, “Why wouldn’t I? Reggie you’re amazing and I wouldn’t want anyone else to help me.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

---

“Finish up these papers for me, I’m going out.”

“Cal, I’m already doing more than I should, I have to finish off an essay and send it in before lunch. You haven’t even started your time listings for today yet.” Y/N blew at a piece of hair that kept falling into her eyes and glared up at Cal.

“I said finish them, I’m going out.” Cal slammed the papers onto her desk and walked out of the office. “Cal, what the fuck!” Y/N stood up, her chair slamming into the wall behind her as she ran after him, papers in hand, “Where the hell are you going?” “Out.”

Cal shot her a cold glare that made her freeze in place before walking out. Y/N groaned in frustration, throwing the papers to the floor, “Shit, fuck, kill me.” Sighing, she knelt on the floor and gathered the papers back up. “Fucking asshole, but he might have something important to do and he’s just stressed about it. Calm down, Y/N.” She kept muttering reassurance to herself so as not to lose her temper once again.

Y/N glanced down at the paper, it was her schedule for the note giving out extravaganza. Oh fuckerooney, she was meant to do that now and she was already late. Y/N ran into the office and stuffed all the notes into a bag which she slung onto her shoulder before sprinting out into the street and making her way to her first stop: Firecracker’s house.

---

“Y/N? You look like you ran all the way here…don’t tell me, you did, didn’t you.”

“Perhaps.”

Julie rolled her eyes despite the grin growing on her face, “You’re an idiot, you know that, right? And your face is really red.” Y/N gasped dramatically, bringing her hands to her cheeks in comical shock, “You don’t say?”

“Julie! Who’s at the door? Tell them to go away, we need to practice!” Both girls stared at each other for a second in slight shock before bursting into laughter, Y/N cleared her throat before turning to Julie, “You might want to cover your ears.” Julie raised a brow but complied as Y/N took a deep breath, “Oi, dunderheads! I thought you wanted your notes but I guess not!” Silence followed and it everything in her to not burst out laughing or snort. “And go…” Julie furrowed her eyebrows and the snickered at the sounds of scraping and scrambling that came from inside the garage.

“No! Please, give us the cheat sheet so we can win!”

“Not a cheat sheet and it’s not a competition but yes, please ignore him! We need your help!”

“Wait there’s a cheat sheet? No one said anything about a test!”

“Okay, boys, chill out and let her breath before she joins you in the afterlife.” Y/N sent Julie a grateful smile before setting the notes down on the coffee table and quickly stepping back as the boys (specifically Luke) dived for them. “So, as per mandatory instructions I need to explain the notes and help you use them to your advantage but I also took on all of Cal’s work until the weekend alongside my own so I hope you don’t mind me checking the finance’s, writing setlists and my essay and other work stuff. I promise you will still get the full explanation for each and every note!”

“You took on more? You already have so much, you promised that you’d take it easy!” Y/N rubbed her knuckles, “I know but Cal walked out on me earlier and hasn’t been himself lately so I needed to pick up where he left off. Plus, all the other workers need a manager and so that’s what I’ll become.” Julie sighed, stroking her finger along the piano keys as she sat down, “As longs as you’re sure it’s okay.” Reggie furrowed his brow but picked up his bass and slung it over his shoulder nonetheless, his concern and probable disappointment made the nasty, sinking feeling of guilt weigh down on Y/N. She didn’t like letting people down but she needed to do this, for her family, for Cal, for herself.

“So let’s do this, you can read through it and then I’ll walk you through it all.”

.

.

.

“Oh! Julie, can you call Flynn? I’d like to see what she’s got before putting everything out there.” Julie frowned, “Are you sure, you’re already doing so much, I don’t wanna-“ “Julie, it’ll be fine just call her up, I’d rather get this done, it’s now or never.” Luke snorted, Alex rolled his eyes but smiled and Reggie choked causing Y/N to raise a brow before shrugging it off, she just needed to see this through and then maybe Cal would be okay again.

A small smile made its way onto her face when she saw Julie and Luke link pinkies behind the piano, she didn’t that was possible but they were cute so you didn’t particularly us. And hey, she got Luke’s nickname spot on, so there’s also that.

“Okay, if you’re sure then I’m sure Flynn will be delighted.” Y/N grinned, “Sweetness, let me know when she’ll get here so I can prepare a space the printer in our office back at the diner.” Reggie furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head, kinda like a confused puppy, “How do you prepare it? Are you leaving already?” Y/N chuckled and shook her head, “No, the printer is wireless and connects to all of the staff’s phones and laptops. Since I only have my phone on me I’ll be using that.”

“Ohhhh! That makes sense!”

“Yeah, Willie said something like that when we went sightseeing and we say printings being put out without anyone nearby.”

“That’s stupid, just draw them or something, what if the wireless breaks?”

“You’re talking loud for someone with bad handwriting.”

---

“Hey everybody, your favourite manager has arrived!”

“Thanks for coming, Flynn. Y/N is just setting up the wireless connection back to her office, have you got a copy of the flyer or something?” Flynn grinned, “You know I do, and can I just say that I really appreciate me and my talents and you should too. You’re welcome.” Julie chuckled and led Flynn over to Y/N who looked up at them with a smile. “Hey, Flynn, it’s really great to see you again. Sorry about the short notice.” Y/N picked at the tips of her nails, a bashful smile making its way onto her face, “No problem, since Julie ditched me for her invisible boyfriend and his band geek friends I haven’t had much chance to hang around, now you’re my excuse.” Julie rolled her eyes as Flynn stuck her tongue out in her direction.

Y/N chuckled and put her phone down beside her, “Well, I’m glad to be of service. So, may I see your masterpiece?” Flynn grinned and pulled her phone out of a pocket, “I thought you’d never ask.”

---

“Thanks so much, Flynn. Your flyer’s amazing, we might have to hire you properly.” Y/N winked, a bright smile on her face, “Really? I mean, these guys really need my talents but if I find some time away I might drop by.” The two girls laughed and then a thought popped into Y/N’s head. She rummaged through her bag and brought out her notebook; she ripped out a page and wrote her number onto it. “Here, Julie already has pretty much all of my contact info but I just remembered you don’t, so here’s my number.” Flynn smiled, “Thanks, I’ll put it in my phone when I get home.”

“Y/N! Do your job and help us now!” She rolled her eyes and stood up, “Once again, thanks.” Flynn sent her finger guns in return. She walked over to where the ‘band geeks’ were congregated around the piano.

“Okay, so it says ‘Remember to interact with audience members’ and ‘Move around when possible’. What does that mean?” Y/N smiled and leant against the piano, “The first one is simple, Cal really liked how you guys react with each other but since we are a performing diner the audience want to be included as well, so interact with them, send them smiles, wave at specific people, pick people out of the crows, that sort of stuff.” She shifted her body to a more comfortable position, “As for moving around, again, we’re a performing diner, everyone will have a mic pack, since you can pick up, hold and wear physical things I’m gonna assume you can wear mic packs too. I don’t know how your amps work though so just move as much as possible, Julie if you can do the most moving around that would be great, we’ll have some performers dancing and working around you but you guys are our main attraction when you’re performing. Just do what you can to the best of your ability, that's all we ask.”

“Well, I’m sure we can do that, right, boys?”

“Obviously, have you not heard us rehearse this week? We’re going blow everyone’s socks off!”

“I have a feeling anything could go badly though, what if the mic packs don’t work or one of us doesn’t appear when we start playing, or- “

“Alex, chill out, this isn’t a second hotdog, and if it is we’ll eat it so it knows who’s boss!”

“Uh, Reggie, that’s how we died, I’m pretty sure the hotdog won.”

“Huh, yeah, that checks out.”

Julie and Y/N caught each other’s eyes and burst out laughing, “Can you guys stop having your little ghostie jokes, I’m trying to boast that I’m well on my way to being a famous manager to the She-Devil herself!”

“Well, now I’ve fulfilled my part of this mission I have to head off to my next mission, Agent Y/N is officially signing out.” Julie smiles and Flynn walks up, “It was great to have you on this mission, we wish you luck in your next. Stay safe Agent, we hope to see you again.” The three girls saluted each other before snickering while the boys stared at them in confusion. Y/N walked over to her bag and slung it over her shoulder, “I’ll see you guys later.” She pushed open the garage doors, waving goodbye one last time before walking out.

Y/N started walking down the path before a loud smashing sound caught her by surprise, “Wait!” A weird sensation spread over her hand, it was warm but cold and it made her skin tingle before she felt pressure replace the weird feeling and fingers curl around her hand. “How can I help you?” Y/N turned around, plastering her customer service smile onto her face.

“Leather Boy?”

She turned to see Reggie standing there completely frozen, holding onto her hand as though it were a lifeline. “Reggie? You okay?” Reggie shook his head slightly and smiled before looking down, a sheepish expression crossing his face, “Can I hug you? Please?” Y/N’s softened and smiled brightly, “Of course, Reg. Come here.” She reached up and looped her arms around his neck as he buried his face into her shoulder, “I don’t get many hugs, the guys don’t like them and I feel like it would be weird to ask Julie.”

“Well, you can hug me anytime…that sounds really weird.” Y/N chuckles as Reggie gazes at her in admiration, “So what did scream at me and- break a plant pot for?” Y/N peers behind Reggie and finds the origin of the smashing sound. “Uh, well I was going to just say goodbye but since we’re here would you mind if I came by the diner later?” Y/N smirked, “Can’t get enough of me?” Reggie grew flustered and turned his gaze to the floor, “Well- I like looking at the food but you being there is definitely a positive.” Y/N blinked, now it was her turn to be flustered, she didn’t expect him to just come out and say something like that.

“Right, yes, well, I’ll see you there then. Um, bye.”

“Yeah, yeah, goodbye.”

---

Taglist:

@hereforthejatp

@slutforjjmaybank​   @morganayennefertyrell​

@dxestars​   @dcnerd98​

@ultraworthlessbitch​   @revolutionary-werewolf-ghosts

@underc0vercryptid-reads​   @miisacore​

[purplesurveys]

1171

survey by ohsh1t2wksl8

What Rhymes With “AB”?

1. Do you have nice abs? Do you know anyone who has nice abs? Andi works out and they like sharing with me their progress every month. They’re turning out to have great abs. 2. Do you blab other peoples’ secrets? Do you like to gossip? I’d still join in if it were about something juicy, tbh. But those years are also far behind me for the most part; I like taking part in wholesome gossip these days, like if someone from high school gave birth or found a better relationship to be in. 3. Have you ever ridden in a taxi cab before? Where to? Yes, we’ve had to take taxis to the airport a few times. I never understood why; for the next few trips after that we used our car to get to the airport anyway, so those couple of rides were weird. I can tell you it’s not very convenient being squished in a sedan with 5 people, with all our bags to boot. :( I’ve also had to take cabs in Singapore, China, and Korea when we went.   4. Do you know anyone who’s caught crabs? Probably. I just wouldn’t be aware of it. 5. Have you or someone you know ever had a hermit crab as a pet? One of my colleagues from college, Hannah, owns a couple of hermit crabs.

6. Do you know how to dab? I guess. I’ve just never willingly done it. 7. Do you have any clothing that looks drab? I don’t think so. If not black, most of my clothes are in muted, calm shades, but not dull or depressing ones. 8. Do you use abbreviations in place of longer words? Do you ever refer to something as “fab”? Not abbreviations, but shortcuts. I always call delivery fee ‘deli fee’ instead. And some people my age would usually call Starbucks ‘Starbs.’ 9. Does you body have any excess flab? Where? Yeah, my upper arms will jiggle a bit if I shake them. 10. Who do you know that likes to gab a lot? What do they go on and on about? My mom is insanely talkative and will go through 5 backstories before proceeding to her actual story. 11. When’s the last time someone jabbed you with a needle? No one’s ever done it to me on purpose (and that’s very crappy??) but I’ve stabbed myself in the palm a few times while I’ve been embroidering. I haven’t gotten back to it for several months now, though. 12. Did you have a science lab class during school? Yeah, we had separate lab classes in high school. I liked them, since it was fun to be more hands-on instead of just spending 45 minutes listening to lectures and staring at the blackboard. I especially enjoyed when we were allowed to mix chemicals, heheheh. 13. Have you ever nabbed something from a store before? What was it? We accidentally stole a box of crayons from a bookstore once. No one noticed my mom still had it in her hand until we walked out of the store haha. We immediately went back inside and either paid for it or put it back on its shelf, I don’t remember which. 14. Do you know anyone who’s been to rehab? What were they in for? I don’t think so. But this is also keeping in mind that the Philippines is a shitty country with no decent rehab centers because most people believe that those with addiction problems don’t deserve a second chance at life. 15. How many backstabbers have you cut from your life? Just one. I’ve been careful ever since that person. 16. Do you pick at your scabs? Sometimes.  17. What’s the last slab of meat you’ve eaten? I had a few pieces of pork in the jjajangmyeon I ordered last Thursday. I don’t think I had meat at all yesterday. 18. Is anything in your house looking shabby? No, my mom is very particular about cleanliness and she’ll immediately fix up a area she thinks is starting to look shabby. 19. When’s the last time you felt crabby? Why? I’m usually crabby every morning at the start of my shifts, just because I always feel tense about the flood of deliverables that would inevitably come to me; though I do start loosening up once I’m able to figure out my schedule and time management for the day. 20.  Who’s the last person you wanted to stab? What did they do in order to make you feel that way? One of the clients I handle. He was onboarded just this January but we quickly learned that he’s very hard to work with; and my team actually received news super recently that he’s gonna be let go of/is willingly resigning because of the challenges in ways of working. I’m soooo relieved. It was a tornado as soon as he came in. 21. How many tabs are open on your internet browser right now? Continued 8 hours later. On this current window, 10 tabs. I have other windows open though. 22. Has anyone ever tried to get grabby with you when you didn’t want them to? I don’t know what this means...but based on what I saw on Google, does this also mean possessive? If that’s correct, then yeah, it’s happened before. My ex was super suspicious of guys and didn’t like my guy friends for no reason at all, which I found disturbing. 23. What would you put on a Krabby Patty? Oh god, I would just go for the recipe they already show on Spongebob. I would honestly go for the King-Size Ultra Krabby Supreme double batter-fried on a stick though; that looked craaaaazy good on TV. 24. Do you know anyone named Abby? That’s my mom’s name. 25. Do you have one of those grabber claws that helps you grasp things that are out of reach? Not anymore, but we had a toy like that when we were kids. 26. Do you like to play Scrabble? Are you any good at it? I do like playing Scrabble. I think I do pretty well in word games in general, but I think I got even better at Scrabble since I took an actual class on it, so I learned a lot of rules and tricks to be able to win. 27. Is it cute when babies babble? What do you think they’re trying to say? It’s cute but it’s not at the top of my list. I’m guessing they’re just excited about everything since it’s all new to them. 28. What’s the last thing you dabbled in/with? Livetweeting after SO FUCKING LONG. I don’t think I’ve done it in like 6 or 7 years...doing it all over again was such a thrill, and it was as exciting as it had been from when I was a teenager. 29. Do you have any dividers or folders with any tabs on them? Just on my laptop haha, nothing physical. 30. Did your parents keep close tabs on you when you were a teenager? Initially, but they gradually let go the older I got. 31. How high has your bar tab been? Idk, maybe a little over ₱3000? I remember how my friends and I ended up buying a crap load of pitchers and bar food from our usual bar once since we ended up really enjoying our time there. 32. Have you ever made jewelry out of the silver tabs on soda cans? Nope. [a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

[yuthoe]

Practice Makes Permanent (PENTAGON: Yeo One)

Hello, friends! This fic is entirely inspired by this post made by Changgu SO LONG AGO, and it looked so cute that I couldn’t get it out of my head. I’m a big theatre geek--I love acting and I was even in an org for it in college, and was cast last minute for a film, too. it’s one of my biggest passions, and hearing news of changgu being in something rotten! made me extremely happy. i needed an excuse anyway to get into the show, and this is the perfect opportunity!

this one took sooooo long to finish. it’s been in my unfinished folder for the longest time, and i’m so glad i’m finally finished with it. changgu’s last performance as Nigel Bottom is today, so i really tried to wrap it up before then. nothing like a deadline to get your ass in gear, am i right lol. but i do apologize if this one seems messy.

btw, the title is something my director would tell us to keep in mind: practice doesn’t make you perfect, it makes you and your body remember what you’re doing, whether it’s correct or not. so you have to practice things in the correct way before it becomes a habit and you keep repeating things the wrong way.

PAIRING: Yeo One x reader. GENRE: fic, general. WARNINGS: N/A. WORD COUNT: 1,635.

---

You knock twice on the door of a dance studio in the company building, before opening it a smidge and peeking your head through, immediately spotting your boyfriend sitting cross-legged against the floor length mirror, his script for the upcoming show he’s in on his lap. Changgu turns to the door at the knocks and smiles wide when he sees you.

The door clicks closed behind you as you skip to where he’s sitting to give him a peck on the cheek. “Hello, handsome,” you greet as you put your messenger bag down on the floor near you; he murmurs a quiet hi as you settle down beside him. “So what did you ask me to come here for?”

He lifts one of your hands to his mouth and presses a soft kiss there. “Okay, so you know I was cast as Nigel Bottom in Something Rotten!, right?”

“Of course, and I’m exceedingly proud of you for landing the role,” you gush, leaning forward and smacking him on the lips. “I know you’ll do great in it.” You’ve seen the musical before, and it’s hilarious, so when Changgu told you the news, you couldn’t help but feel that playing Nigel would suit him to a T.

Changgu chuckles, grinning widely as he kisses you back. “Thank you, love. But yeah, I have a love interest in the play. And much of Nigel’s character development is helped forward by her, so… you know… if you’re okay with it… could you--,”

“Help you memorize your lines with Portia?” you ask with a smile. It’s been a while since you’d done any acting, apart from what’s necessary for your group’s comebacks. The last gig you could remember was for a short film two years ago that was screened during a film festival, and you’ve been itching to get in front of a camera again.

Your boyfriend shrugs nonchalantly, as if it’s no big deal. “Only if you want to, though. I know you’ve been busy lately.” He levels you with a disarming smile and soft caramel eyes. “But I’d really appreciate it if you could help me.”

You had been ready to say yes to the request even before he gave you that look, so you gently cup his face, press a light kiss on his nose, and say, “I’m never too busy for you, love.”

***

“Okay,” Changgu says, sitting on the “bench” (three chairs you’d put in a neat row), sheaves of papers in his hands. “Act 1 Scene 8… action!” He taps his rolled-up script against his palm, quickly unfurls it again, and starts scribbling on the cover with an invisible pen.

You stand a little ways away, clutching a piece of fabric you found in the corner around your head and shoulders like a cloak. Your feet want to move, want to pace around a bit from nerves of seeing and possibly talking to Nigel.

Nigel groans in frustration. “Uggggh, no you can’t.” He sighs, makes to stand up, and you spur into action, walking straight into him as he begins to walk away. “Oh, apologies. Good day, mistress.” He avoids your eyes, defeated.

He begins to side-step to excuse himself when you say, “‘Good days were those when lit with love, till dusk of death did herald th’eternal night’.”

It puts him to a stop, and he finally looks at you properly. He recognizes the line and confusion is written plain on his face, obvious in the way his brows furrow. “Hey… I wrote that.”

“Yes, I know,” you say, trying to fight the smile growing on your face as you lower the “hood” of the cloak. The cloth precariously hangs on your shoulders as you pat your pockets for the paper you stuffed in one of them earlier. “I accidentally took this after our first encounter,” you fumble with the blank page and show it to him. “Your sonnet. It’s--it’s perfection.” You’d never read something so deeply sorrowful and yet yet incredibly hopeful.

“Really?” Nigel’s eyes had lit up when you took off your hood, and now he’s fiddling with his hands, embarrassed but flattered. “You thought it was… good?”

You clutch the paper to your chest. “It touched me in places I did not know could be touched.” Instantly, your eyes widen and you inwardly curse yourself for making it sound like something sexual. You try to backpedal. “Forgive me. Poetry is forbidden in my house, especially poems of earthly love.”

You take a step forward, lifting a hand in front of you like you’re reading a marquee. “OH, IS THERE NO PITY SITTING IN THE CLOUDS THAT SEES INTO THE BOTTOM OF MY GRIEF?!” you yell, and press a hand to your heart with an impassioned sigh.

Nigel points a finger at you, the play coming to him easily. “Romeo and Juliet, Act 3, Scene 6!”

You whip your head towards him, more excited now. “You’ve seen it?”

He nods, just as elated as you. “Six times! And you?”

“Eight! If my father knew, he would disown me,” you reply.

“My brother, too.”

“I adore Shakespeare.”

“Me too! I’ve got Comedy of Errors, first edition,” he says proudly.

You smile. “I’ve got ‘Sonnet No. 1’.” You hold up a finger. “Signed.”

Nigel’s jaw drops. “Wow.”

“I know,” you say, giggling. Talking about literature always makes you so excited that it’s taking all of your willpower to not jump around right now. Nigel chuckles with you, overjoyed to find someone just as in love with poetry as he is.

The laughter dies down after a while, replaced by embarrassed smiles from both of you. As you move to tuck a hair behind your ear, you remember the paper you’re still holding and the reason you sought him out in the first place.

So you take a breath and look at him, completely serious now. “I think you’re his equal--if not better.”

Nigel is already shaking his head. “No, no way.”

“Oh yes,” you insist. “Your sonnet has Shakespearean sophistication mixed with the complexity of Daniel Webster and the sensitivity of Samuel Daniel.” The analysis has been eating at you since you first read the poem, that the words just tumbled out of your mouth. You needed someone to talk to about it, and who better than the author himself?

Nigel looks at you fondly, mouth upturned in an amused smile that shows his teeth. “You really love poetry.”

You sigh, grinning so wide it feels like your face is going to split in two. “Oh, I do. I really, really do.”

“And cut!” Changgu says. “This is where the song comes in, so we’ll skip that.”

“That was a good run!” you say, pulling off the fabric and folding it into a loose square. “I mean, I’m a little rusty so I could use some more practice, but you were good!”

Changgu does a tiny fist pump and gestures to his script. “Can we do another scene?”

“Yeah, sure,” you say, eager to try again. You didn’t think you’d miss acting this much, but Changgu just ignited that fire in you that absolutely loves being on stage. “What did you have in mind?”

***

Hours later finds you both in a cafe, you sitting across Changgu and exchanging notes from your mini-rehearsal earlier that afternoon. He nods in understanding as he highlights his lines on the open script, occasionally scribbling notes and tips in the margins. The serving of iced coffee sits half-empty beside him and you carefully sip your warm latte.

You like this, you think. You like practicing lines with Changgu, acting out scenes together, and delivering a whole new dynamic to your characters’ relationship. It makes you want to actually act with him on a legitimate project and, not for the first time, wish you auditioned for Something Rotten!, even as an ensemble character. 

You hear the clack of Changgu capping his highlighter; it takes you out of the spiral of envy you were slowly tumbling into. He looks up at you, eyes soft and gazing at your face.

“Thank you for practicing with me earlier, Y/N,” he says, smiling.

His smile is literal sunlight and has you grinning back. “Anytime for you, Changgu,” you say with a giggle.

He chuckles and sits back on his chair with a sigh. You study him as he studies the highlighted pages.

“I wonder what it would be like if we worked on a project together,” he muses. “I bet it’d be so much fun. We could practice lines together, have loads of inside jokes…”

His eyes focus on you again. “And it would be an excuse to spend more time with you.”

It still amazes you sometimes, how much you two are on the same wavelength. Because of your packed schedules--comeback preparation for you, and musical rehearsals for Changgu--you hardly have time for each other lately. Truth be told, you miss him, and you know he misses you. Today is just an excuse to see each other after such a long time, and you’re just making the day count until you have free time again. And who knows when that’ll be?

You shake off the solemn vibe and say, “Okay. Next time, we audition for a musical together, yeah? Something… darker, maybe? More drama?”

Changgu grins at you conspiratorially. “Are you thinking romance? Or possibly a tragedy?”

You hum, tapping a finger on your chin in mock thought. “Why not both?”

“Oohh, Sweeney Todd? Chicago?” He starts humming the hook to “Cell Block Tango” while doing vogue-like moves, and it’s taking everything in you to not kiss him right now. You’re in a public place right now, and though there aren’t many people in the shop, public decency is still a thing.

No matter--you’ll make sure to shower his face in kisses later.

[cal-tries-to-write]

Dead men walking

Synopsis: Sam and Dean pick up a case in LA that seems simple enough but once they get there they only hit dead ends. That is until their one decent lead only leads them to almost getting arrested after a run in with some old family friends. A 911/supernatural crack fic.

Warnings: mention of blood and monsters (I’m honestly not to sure what to put here)

A/n Welcome to my first fic I’m publishing! And I decided to make it a rushed crack fic because I’m sad about the ending of superntural and I miss 911. This was also supposed to be a short little joke fic but here we are. Also a huge thank you to @buckleysjareau for helping me work out how the team would react go check her post which gives an amazing scene to what each of the characters are thinking, how they react and their like over all thoughts of the supernatural being real.

“Dean I don’t see why we took this case there are plenty of hunters in LA.”

“Because you were complaining about just sitting around the bunker so I found us a case.”

“Ok but you hate LA, the traffic, the weather, the wait,” Sam stops halfway toward the house smirking at his brother, “this wouldn’t have anything to do with Maddie would it?”

“What Dads old hunting friend’s kid? No. It has to do with the fact that people are dying in weird way.” He scoffed not even bothering to look back at Sam.

“Whatever you say man. But if I remember correctly you had a huge crush on her when we were little didn’t you?” Sam laughed continuing towards the house.

“Shut up.” He glared tearing down the police tape and opening the door.

The outside looked normal, tan siding, windows with the shades drawn, a perfect porch, even a white picket fence but the perfect scenery changed the second they stepped inside. Gibberish covers the walls written in what the boys could only assume was blood. Symbols covered the ceilings and pools of blood the floor.

Sam shuttered looking around the room, he had seen a lot of messed up things, many worse than this, yet for some reason being in the room he was more on edge then ever before. Looking at the blood stained walls he tried to identify any of the words or symbols but failed, “So, I don’t know about you but I don’t recognize any of these words or any of the symbols.

“I’ve got to agree with you there.”

“Well then I say we head to the M.E to look at the bodies to see if there’s any clues there.”

“Yeah sounds like a plan.” After drivin back into the heart of LA he was pulled from his thoughts as Sammy informed him that they would need to stop by the police station before heading to the M.E to get the photos that were taken at the scene.

“Why don’t I drop you off at the M.E and I’ll go to the police station.”

“Alright just don’t forget to pick me when your done.”

“I would never.”

“Sergeant Grant?” Dean asks as he walk the officer the receptionist had told him was first on the scene.

“That would be me. What can I do for you?”

“I’m agent Ackles with the FBI I’m here to ask you a few questions about a 911 call that you responded to and look at the photos and evidence.”

“Let me guess the Briggs house? That place looked straight out of a horror movie when I got there.” She said as she started walking towards the evidence locker.

“Yeah that would be the call.” He replied following behind her.

“The only thing left at the scene was this,” she held up a plastic bag with a golden dagger in it, “well other than the body and writing.”

“Here,” Sergeant Grant handed him the two manila folder she hand been holding, “the crime scene photos. I was just looking over them and I still can’t piece together what happened.”

He thanked her as he left the station and flipped through the folder in the car. About 10 minutes later the only thing he knew is that Mr.Briggs was still alive and holding the knife when first responders got there. He heard his phone buzzing below some of the paper work. He quickly moved the folders to picked it up, “Sammy please tell me you have some clues after seeing the body.”

“I’m afraid not. The body’s fairly clean just cuts all over they seemed to be made by a small knife.”

“So we have no clue to what’s causing this other than a dagger and some bloody symbols and writing. Great,” Dean sighed as hit hit his head on the steering wheel, “okay I’ll be at the M.E in 20 minutes.”

Sam couldn’t make heads or tails or the case, nothing matched up, he could find any of the symbols in any books or online, he could figure out what language the writing was, if they were even actual words, he reminded himself. After sitting at his computer for a good two hours he decided he may have better luck getting information from the case files Dean had picked up earlier. They didn’t give him much but they did give him a lead to start with the next day, after the call was placed medical was dispatched first, arrived first and even got there before the guy died, the police were called after they walked in and saw the blood on the walls and ceiling. The statements came from a Captain Robert Nash and after a quick google search Sam found he worked at station 118.

“Get dressed,” Sam called into their room, “I found us a lead on the case. Or at least I think I did.”

“What’s the lead?” He yawned sitting up and stretched his arms.

“The cop you visited yesterday, Sergeant Grant, she wasn’t the first person on the scene. Medical was called first specifically the 118. And when they got there Mr.Briggs was still alive so we’re going to the station in hopes they have some information that the police reports missed.”

“And you can’t go by yourself because?”

“Because I don’t feel like interveiwing 6 people entirely on my own.”

“Fine.”

“Eddie!” Buck called after his friend as they walked towards the station.

“Buck.” He stopped and waited for him to catch up.

“Did you know that there’s a suprising amount of sibling serial killer?”

“I didn’t.”

“Well there are a ton. Like there were these two brothers who traveled across the US posing as FBI agents and killing people in mass amounts. They actually managed to make it to the top of the actual FBI’s most wanted list in record time. That was until they got caught and supposedly died in custody.”

“Supposedly?” Eddie gave him a questioning look as they entered the locker room.

“Well there have been tons of reports on people seeing them after their supposed deaths. And there’s a bunch of theories they escaped but the FBI didn’t want people worrying so they said they died.”

“Did you get any sleep last night of did you spend the whole night researching serial killers?”

“I got some sleep.” Buck yawned looking offended. He finished buttoning his shirt and then running to catch up with Eddie who was heading upstairs. Eddie just laughed at him.

After getting in a brief nap at the start of the shift then nothing but non stop calls the team finally got a break as they got started getting ready for dinner.

“Is Maddie going to stop by for dinner?” Chimney asked as he handed plates to Buck to set the table.

“I figured you would know considering your her boyfriend.”

“And you her brother.”

“Touché, and yeah she said she would try to stop by.”

“Buck can you go see what the two guys in suits want.” Bobby asked as less of a question and more of an order.

“On it,” He setting down the last plate running down the stairs only to freeze once he got fairly close to the two guys.

“I’m Agent Ackles and this is my partner agent Padelecki we were hoping to talk to Captain Nash?”

Buck completely terrified with fear said the first thing that came to his mind which was, “No your not.”

The two ‘agents’ looked back and forth between themselves than at him. “I’m sorry?” The taller one, Sam, Buck remembered from the article said.

“Buck you ok?” Eddie spoke from behind him causing all three of them to jump slightly.

Eddie took a step closer to his friend seeing that he was clearly uncomfortable.

“We are agents Ackles and,”

He was cut off by Buck saying louder than probably necessary, “They’re serial killers from the article I was telling you about.” 

As everyone in the stations head suddenly turned towards the four men on the main floor after hearing Buck say that the people he’s talking to are serial killer. Eddie took a step forward putting himself between Buck and the two ‘agents’.

“Wait, what, no we’re not serial killers.” Sam said putting his hands up, “Look your Evan Buckley right?”

Dean gave looked at his brother like he was insane. There was no way this was little Evan Buckley. Maddies baby brother, who last time they saw him was barely tall enough to reach counter tops. This guy looked like he could bench Dean.

“How do you know that?” Buck looked even more terrified now.

“Yeah how do you know that?” Dean looked at him confused himself now.

Sam turned to explain to Dean ignoring the looks Buck and Eddie were giving him, “Maddie and I kept in touch and after I left to go to school we started talking more. So,” he turned back to Buck and Eddie, “if we can talk to her I’m sure,”

“What do you want with Maddie?” Chimney, who along with Hen and Bobby had joined them on the main floor, questioned with a pissed look on his face.

“Im going to call Athena.” Hen said pulling out her phone and dialing Athenas number.

“I did the second Buck said serial killers.” Bobby told her. Hen stopped dialing and put her phone away.

Both of Sam and Dean were now even more worried with the threat of cops coming to the station. “Wait please just give us a minute to explain.” Sam attempted to defuse the situation.

“Sam? Dean?” Maddie called as she walked into the station, “What’s going on?”

“Maddie,” Sam sighed in relief, “Thank god can you please tell your brother we are not serial killers?”

She shifted her gaze between Sam and Dean and Bobby, Chimney, Hen, Buck, and Eddie. “Yeah they’re not serial, what are you two doing here?” Her eyebrows were knitted together as she walked towards the group and faced them.

“Ummm Maddie why are you talking to the serial killers like you know them? And like they’re good friends of yours and not serial killers?” Chimney asked.

“Because I do? Wait why do you all think they’re serial killers?” She looked at them realizing they all looked panicked, “Loom let’s all sit down and we can talk this out, alright?”

“So all of it, everything like ghosts, demons, shifters, vampires, werewolves, it’s all real?” Eddie questioned with a suprisingly calm look on his face, “And you,” he motioned to Sam and Dean who were sitting across the table, “you guys kill them?”

“Yeah.” Maddie answered from next to them, “I did too when we were younger that’s how I know the Winchesters. John and our dad used to go on hunts together and when we got older the boys and I did too.”

“I’m sorry can we back track here? So MONSTERS like honest to god MONSTERS are real and YOU hunted them? Is that what you and dad did on your hunting trips? Killing not deer but DEMONS! You could have gotten hurt! And how come I never learned any of this?” Buck stared at his sister across the table. He looked more distressed about learning his sister used to hunt these monster than learning about the monsters themselves.

Maddie let out a sigh, “Mom and Dad were very divided on the whole hunting thing. Dad wanted us to learn to be hunters because that’s how he grew up, Mom didn’t. So they compromised the first born kid, would learn all about monsters and how to hunt them, the second kid, would be kept completely in the dark about the supernatural.”

“The supernatural is real,” Eddie mumbled under his breath before raising his voice, “I knew it.”

Everyone immediately turned their heads towards him. A blush crept up his face once he realized he had said that louder than intended, “My sisters used to tease me all the time because I loved everything supernatural as a kid. I also believed in a lot of it to so they used it to play pranks on me.”

“Bobby everything alright?” Athena suddenly called from the main floor, “I got your text saying that you had two serial killers just walk into the station?”

Bobby stood up and hesitated as Athena climbed the stairs into the loft, before he looked at Sam and Dean then at Maddie and his team, “Yeah everything’s just fine. It was just a false alarm.”

Eddie jumped in to explain a little further when Athena gives him the ‘are you saying that because you’re in danger’ look, “Buck here thought agents Ackles and Padelecki looked like two serial killers from an article he read last night. I think the lack of sleep is finally getting to him.” He laughed off the second part.

She bummed before turning towards Sam and Dean, “Agent Ackles and you must be agent Padelecki. What are you two doing here?”

Sam spoke up quickly, “The police reports said the 118 was the first on the scene so we figured we stop by and see if they had and extra information that might help the case.”

She nodded understanding the help first hand accounts can have, “Well Ive got to get back to work. I’ll see you all later, and I will see you at home.” She walked over to Bobby giving him a quick kiss before turning around heading back down the stairs.

“I can’t believe you almost got your sisters friends arrested because you thought they were serial killers.” Hen laughed at Buck

“I mean technically I wasn’t being dumb the serial killers were them just not THEM.”

“I hope you know that sentence make absolutely no sense even with context.”

“So,” Maddie turned back around in her chair to face Sam and Dean, “you two never did explain what you are doing here.”

“Right,” Sam sat up straighter, “we heard about the Briggs house and it looked like something in our domain so we figured we check it out.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Except we have found anything that helps us solve the case or figure out if it’s even remotely supernatural.”

Maddie stood up and pushed her chair in,“Well then, what can I do to help?” She said looking Sam and Dean in the eye.

A/n so that got long and I decided to stop that there because I like that as the last line. I might make a part two but I’m also working on another less cracky 911 fic. And I know super creative alias for Sam and Dean. Sorry about the weird spacing tumblr didn’t like me copying and pasting from docs apparently.

[chilly-me-softly]

Sad Eyes • Chapter 6

Chapter 1    Chapter 4 Chapter 2    Chapter 5 Chapter 3 

Tag: @emwritesfootball @alexajanecollins

Ben returns to an empty house, no one will be back for an hour, and he heads straight to the laundry room to empty the duffel bag of his dirty clothes.

Some of Leon's clean clothes are folded on the washing machine and he decides to help his wife by going to put them back, the week just passed had been full of things to do and then help never hurts. He puts everything on the bed, going to open the closet and putting everything carefully in its place. His gaze is captured almost immediately by a blanket that he knows very well, it's the blanket with the logo of the team that he had picked up for the newborn Leon. It was the first gift he had ever given him, Leon used to carry it around with him all the time. If he didn't have that blanket there would be no way to put him to sleep - so much so that he had to buy a spare one just in case. Then he grew up, and that piece of cloth was no longer needed. It didn't cover him like it used to, and it ended up in the closet. Ben folded it again and put it where it was. It's still got his scent anyway.

He goes downstairs and it's as if something called him to the garden, a ball is standing still in the middle of it. He smiles thinking that before he left Leon had made a couple of kicks, he continued to play in their garden despite the fact that the season is over and he's officially done with football.

"Ben!" the boy turns his head to the voice, finding his wife looking at him scolding him, but also amused.

"Mommy's here! Say hi to mommy" Ben waves to her and Leon copies him smiling, sticking his tongue out and narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Don't you think it's a bit early? He only took his first steps yesterday" she teases him as she approaches the two of them.

"What harm could it possibly do him" Ben shrugs, placing the ball a few inches away from the child again. "Let's show Mommy what we've learned" and still holding on to Ben, Leon takes two little steps forward before stopping and extending his right foot by slightly rolling the ball in front of him.

The baby's screams fill the air as Ben takes him in his arms and kisses him, "He'll be the best striker ever"

Ben sighs, that house has so many memories and lately there are days when he doesn't stop to think about everything. The day before, he was sitting around having breakfast, looking at the spot where Leon used to eat in his high chair until a couple of years ago. He had thought about how the first few minutes standing there were always a tragedy because he wanted to move, but then he saw the green bowl with the food and calmed down instantly.

"Oh so you're hungry" Leon claps his hands on the table, red in the face, trying to reach the plate but his little body is secured by the seatbelt.

"Okay okay, here we go" Ben puts the plate in front of him and stops those little hands from sinking into the dinner that night: mashed potatoes and peas. The fork is just something he uses to make noise on the table.

"Fork. Otherwise no food" Leon screams something but Ben raises an eyebrow, sitting in front of him. "Come on, buddy. It's not that hard"

With the fork in one hand and not interrupting eye contact, Leon slowly stretches the other one in the dish by taking a pea and bringing it to his mouth. Ben opens his mouth wide, turning towards you, who are laughing and enjoying the scene on the other side of the room, while the little one finds the whole thing very funny.

He had earned the teasing of his baby because 'Daddy's still sleeping' while he had repeatedly passed his hand in front of his face giggling, without getting any sign from him.

Memories always brought a smile to his face, despite the melancholy of times gone by. He missed taking care of a small child, the toothless smiles, the full belly sighs, all the first times. And sometimes he would want to go back and tell himself not to do this or not to do that, but he wouldn't get where he is now, he wouldn't realize what he knows now. Everything happens for a reason and nobody is perfect. Many first times it's not only about little children but also about parents, and he really hopes that his child can always find a way to forgive him, that he can forgive himself.

He takes the phone out of his pocket when it rings, signalling a text, and smiles as he reads the familiar 'we're coming back x'. There's a picture attached, a selfie of the two of them sticking out their tongues, he waits every day for that, by now he has a full folder on his phone.

"Daddy!" little Leon runs immediately into his arms as soon as he steps into the house, and Ben holds him tight to himself, one hand in his still slightly damp hair.

"You've got to start drying your hair properly, or you're going to catch a cold" he reminds him placing him on his legs, ready to hear the story of his day.

"I know, but the coach held me back today" he says, and Ben can hear the excitement in his little voice.

He still has to get used to it, but slowly he's working on it. After the football season was over, it didn't take long for Leon to start getting bored being at home all the time. Often Ben would take him to the field or around town but he missed that activity to let off steam. And then one day, his aunt had taken him to the pool with her where she works and something inside him had snapped.

He had seen all those people training in the water, the different styles and he had fun cheering someone on. Then they allowed him to play a bit in the water, put on some goggles and he asked the girl if she could take him with her again sometime.

Leon had felt the curiosity born inside him, asking questions and listening to how many medals an athlete had won, or what he was planning for the Olympics, or that he had started swimming just when he was about his age.

No one had ever seen him so excited about anything before. He couldn't wait to get to the facility, almost dragging his mother out the door because he didn't want to be late. And selfishly Ben, for the first few periods, couldn't help but think 'why? Why couldn't he show this interest in football?'

And he kicked himself right afterwards but it was still hard for him all that. He thought it didn't hurt so much to get the news, but then the fact that he had even started another sport hit him like a slap in the face. It was at that moment, when happily the child had begged him to sign up for swimming, that he realized he had expectations for his baby boy.

The days following that revelation had been perhaps the most painful for him, but strangely enough, the cure and the disease had been the same. If seeing his child move away from football had made him feel as if a pin had been trapped in his heart, that same pin had been removed seeing happiness in his child's eyes.

Because in the end that was all that mattered, his happiness, and he had to step aside and let him live his life. Always proud of him and always by his side, because he's his daddy and this would never change.

 Chapter 7

[artificialqueens]

There's No One There (Group Fic) - Marmalade

Summary: One student missing multiple classes without warning can be explained away but when more girls start disappearing, it can’t be dismissed. Jaida, Jackie, Gigi, and Crystal may not be friends but if it’s to figure out what’s going on, they’re willing to work together.

A/N: I don’t really have much of a note so here’s a fun fact instead. I actually started writing another fic with these ladies + Heidi and I was writing it and writing it thinking “I’m doing so much, the absolute most” and it’s been in the works since mm One Woman Show episode on top of me thinking about it since the season started. For this fic, I came up with the concept less than two weeks ago and posted the first chapter after like 3 days of writing it. For comparison, this fic is currently 23 pages long, the other one is just 6. Inspiration is a wild thing.

Saturday had required the utmost of stealth. Gigi didn’t need anyone to see her on the bus and ask her how she planned to spend her day, she didn’t need anyone to see her slip away from the unloading bus and made herself scarce for the next few hours. She wore a scarf over her head and sunglasses that not only helped hide her identity but looked cute, she folded the paper bag she had received several times over and stashed it deep into her backpack, slipping back onto the bus at the end of the day with no one the wiser.

Everything was going off without a hitch until she tried to return to her dorm and Crystal had spotted her and flagged her down. Crystal’s hands were tightly gripping her hair as she attempted to fill in Gigi on what she had missed but between Crystal’s crying and natural proclivity for jumbling her words, Gigi could barely make out what she was saying. Something happened to Widow, Gigi kept hearing her name, and it didn’t take a genius to realize that it was not something good.

Jackie and Jaida arrived a few minutes later, the former of whom had already heard all this when they road back to school on the bus and went to find Jaida as soon as they set foot on the ground. Out of convivence, they piled into Gigi’s dorm and shut the door before Crystal’s tears attracted unwanted attention.

“-She told me something was going on and to meet her but she never showed up! I went to her dorm and her roommate said she wasn’t there either! What if someone was blackmailing her or something?!”

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence?” Jackie tried to interject some levity into the situation, she looked to Jaida for her input but Jaida’s mind was still tangled over what happened in the library.

“Child, a coincidence that happens three times, one after another?” Jaida’s tone is fast as she thought out loud. “Nicky acts weird, she goes missing. Jan starts acting strange, she goes missing. Widow clearly had something going on and the minute she decides to spill what it is, she goes missing now. Think if we go to the headmaster, he’ll give us some story about how Widow’s parents had some emergency that couldn’t wait one week for spring break or give her any time to say goodbye?”

“You… you think the he-principal made that up?” While Jaida was speaking as fast as she could, Gigi spoke very slowly, piecing her sentence together by the word.

“Yeah, Jaida, that’s a big accusation.”

“Okay, bitch, this is gonna sound a little bit crazy but when I was in the library today there was this one bitch there who was acting weird and when I say weird I mean she wasn’t paying attention to the world at all, all she could do was write in her book like her life depended on it. Then, later on, she freaks out for no reason and starts destroying some old books. Widow said she thought the school was driving people crazy, I’m starting to think she wasn’t just saying that to be dramatic, clearly she knew something we don’t.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now? What’th more likely? People dropping out of school or what? What’th even your theory, that they’re being kidnapped and experimented on and- and the school’th involved?”  

Jaida gave Gigi the side-eye from over her shoulder before turning to face her.

“I would have thought you’d be more suspicious; you were the first one to say something and you weren’t having it when the receptionist wasn’t telling us anything.”

“Yeah but then the principal told us what happened himthelf and I started to wonder if maybe me and Nicky just weren’t as close as I thought we were.”

“…Maybe the school doesn’t want the disappearances to get out?” Jackie had been deep in thought after Jaida suggested that the school was involved. It was a jump she didn’t want to make but more than anything Jackie wanted to make sense of what was going on. “This school’s reputation is insane, I’m pretty sure it’s almost entirely funded by investors who want to hire girls who just graduated. If a scandal broke then all the investors would pull out. If they kept the disappearances secret then they could have detectives investigate in secrecy and avoid getting front page on the news. So many the school isn’t responsible per se but the faculty is telling us whatever it takes to get us to leave everything alone.” Jackie wasn’t sure if she believed herself as she spoke but the more detail she added, the more it sounded realistic- or the more she wanted that to be the case.  

“And if they are? What do we do about it?”

“If Widow knew something, maybe she had evidence or a note or something. If we can find anything substantial, we could go to the police ourselves.”

Gigi folded her arms but the looks Jackie and Jaida gave her made her huff and throw them to her sides. “Okay, fine! Crystal, what do you think?”

Crystal had remained quiet throughout most of the conversation. The other girls hadn’t even noticed when her quiet crying had become a quiet stare at the wall ahead of her. She had no visible reaction when Gigi said her name, prompting Jackie to shake her on the shoulder which thankfully managed to snap her to attention.

“Que? Huh, what are we talking about?”

“You weren’t listening?”

“I must of zoned out!” Crystal squeaked meekly. “I’m sorry!”

“We’re going to search Widow’s dorm to find evidence to take to the police.” Jaida explained with her hands on her hips. “We ought to put you on note duty to keep you on track.”

-

The phrase “Hi there, our friend is missing and we want to check your shared dorm on the suspicion that there might be a clue” was something that not even Jaida had the gumption to say to Widow’s roommate. The four of them had resolved to waiting until the next day, forgoing the bus ride into town as they waited for the roommate to head out herself.

For as much as the hall monitors were sticklers about not letting girls dawdle in the dorm hall during class hours, they were far laxer out borrowing keys than they should have been. All it took Jaida was walking into their office and saying with reasonable confidence that she accidentally left her key in the pocket of the blazer she just put in the wash. The monitor just nodded and let her borrow a spare, never going to verify that the key she took was actually for her dorm. In fact when Jaida rejoined the other girls with wide eyes of disbelief they almost mistook it for her getting caught until she reveal the key in her palm.

The hall was empty and the doors didn’t have any names on them, so of the rare passerby that might see them it was far easier to think nothing of it, but that didn’t stop the girls from feeling some sense of secrecy and looking over their shoulders. All they did was put the spare key into the door and still they felt like they were in a spy movie. As soon as the door opened the four rushed in and closed the door behind them.

“God, why is Widow’s room so cold?” Gigi rubbed her hands along her arms, her blazer suddenly feeling not nearly warm enough.

“It feels fine?” Jackie glanced at Jaida and Crystal who both seemed to agree with Gigi.

“I’m sorry we can’t all be Canadian like you, Jackie. Let’s just get this over with.”

Nothing about Widow’s side of the dorm seemed like an obvious clue. No blood or conspiracy theory boards. Crystal walked over to her desk, inspecting the stack of large books that sat on top of it, immediately realizing that they weren’t there the last time she had hung out with Widow in her dorm.

“Are these yearbooks?” The other three grouped up to peer over her shoulder and as soon as she caught a glace, Jaida reached out to take on into her hands.

“I was looking for these yesterday! But, like, what’s Widow doing with so many of them?” Wordlessly, they each took a book to feather through the pages. They were of different years, some decades apart, with several pages missing a picture that they were certain had been there before.

Gigi was the first to snap her book closed and toss it down on the desk. “Three girlth gone, a freak out in the library, and now a lack of pictureth. Figured it all out yet?”

“But did Widow take the pictures or did someone else? And what’s the correlation between the missing pictures?” Jackie put her book down and looked around, her eyes falling down on the backpack resting by the post of the bed, all zipped up and poised to be easily grabbed on the way out. Jackie dropped down to her knees and began to unzip the bag.

“Wait- you’re going through Widow’s stuff now?” Crystal cried.

Jackie paused and looked over her shoulder at her. “…We already broke into her dorm, why are you drawing the line in the sand now?” Crystal stammered before broadly gesturing to Jackie to continue. Among the more normal items in the bag there was a folder, that in itself was not strange as it looked like it was pulled from a normal binder, however its contents were far mor eyebrow raising.

Jackie over turned it and out spilled a pile of yellowed old photos, a brief inspection confirming that they were the photos missing from the albums. The majority of the pictures were of athletic events or class photos taken outside. The activities were different, some of the pictures were of student’s others were of staff, none of them were even from the same year, and a few of them were of students in classrooms.

They had elected to grab the photos and run before they could even chance being caught by the roommate. After putting everything, save for the photos, back where they found them, they had retreated to Jaida’s dorm to pour over them in the search for a pattern. The effort was more frustrating than anything and it took a bit of strong arming to get Jackie to put down the photos long enough to go get lunch. After an hour long break where they mutually agreed not to mention anything about the photos or mysteries for their own sanity, they returned to the dorm fresh faced.

“Where even is this field?” Gigi asked nonchalantly when they returned, Crystal took the photo from her and held it close to her face.

“Um, just out by some shed I think?”

“What shed? The only sports shed it connected to the gym, we don’t have a free standing one.”

“The pictures are pretty old,” Jaida added. “I think the campus downsized their field a couple of decades ago because no one was using them-” Jaida cut herself off with wide eyes. “Wait. Wait- okay, wait.” She bolted up and grabbed the photos out of the other girls’ hands, sifting through them before laying them one by one. “Shed, shed, shed. All of the ones outside have this same old shed in it.” She picked up one of the photos that was taken in a classroom, a girl holding up a banner she painted for some dance that was one of the more modern photos, Jaida wasn’t interested in that- her eyes were on the large window behind the girl. “Yes bitch! Okay, look at that!” She slammed the photo down and pointed to a white spot among the discolored green trees. “There’s the shed again.”

“…And we’re crazy about an old sports shed because?”

“Because- last I heard from Jan, she was going to go for a walk outside. The headmaster said she was caught trying to leave campus, whether that’s true or not, like, maybe this was where Jan was trying to go. If the campus downsized then the shed would be out in the woods by now.”

“The grounds are so different now, we have no idea how deep into the woods it is or even what direction it is.”

“No but!- if we find what classroom this photo was taken from then, child, we got our direction.”

[t0ngue-tech]

Deadline | Five

“Jungkook laughed, turning around to follow your movements towards the Keurig, eyes still not leaving your frame. ‘I apologize. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s cute.’

Don’t turn around. Don’t look at him.”

↠ fluff, fake relationship au, high school au ↞

word count: 5.8k

↠ series: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | ↞

A/N: hi guise! just casually dropping deadline onto your dashboard huhu. if you’re not streaming MOTS 7 then baby what is you doinnnnn???? have a lovely day my loves ^-^

-

-

-

Why were you so nervous? You had absolutely no reason to be as nervous as you were at the moment. Afterall, you were the one who invited Jungkook to come over after school to work on the history project. You had multiple chances to cancel on him, but you sounded confident when you asked so you didn’t want to turn back.

Before leaving your house that morning, you made sure to let your mother know that Jungkook was going to be coming over for academic reasons. She didn’t miss a beat and teased you about it because she was going to be coming home an hour later than usual. Nothing was going to happen, you were one-hundred percent about that, but of course your mother didn’t know that.

You were going to be alone in your house with Jungkook for a few hours.

Completely normal.

No biggie.

I need to fucking calm down.

You were now sitting in the passenger seat of his car trying to focus on the story Jungkook was telling you. His words were entering through your left ear and straight out the other because all you could think about was did I tidy up the magazines on the coffee table or I swept the floor, put away the dishes, and changed out the towels in the bathroom, but I swear I’m missing something.

Obviously you were overthinking everything. You cleaned up your house before Jungkook picked you up in the morning and you made sure that everything was in order twice. Nothing was out of place, but you were so sure something was going to go wrong.

“Y/n.”

“H-Huh?” You blinked.

Jungkook chuckled and ruffled your hair. “We’re here.”

Oh, great.

“Yeah, sorry. Let’s go.” You scrambled for your bag and fumbled around the front pocket for your keys.

At your front door, you were untangling your keys from your lanyard trying to keep yourself level headed, but the timing of your keys slipping in between your fingers was impeccable. You heard Jungkook snickering behind you as you reached down to get your keys and get your act together at the same time.

“Are you alright?” Jungkook asked whilst snickering.

“Just peachy.” You muttered and pushed your door open. “Come in.”

The house was kept just as you left this morning and as much as you didn’t want to admit to yourself, everything was spotless. Jungkook took off his bag and settled himself down on the large rug beneath the coffee table. He looked around the living room, only making you feel more tense because of your constant overthinking of some sort of “mess” you probably left around.

“Oh yeah, you said your mom is going to be back later?” You nodded. “I have her tupperwares in my car. I already transferred the rest of the food you made me into my own containers.”

“Okay. You can just leave them in the kitchen.” Jungkook stood up from the floor. “I’m going to change really quick, okay?” He nodded and escaped outside while you retreated to your room.

Out of all places, you were not ready to showcase your room. It wasn’t because it was messy but because it was your sanctuary, you held precious parts of you in your room that you weren’t ready to present to Jungkook; pictures, figurines, stuffed animals, it was all too personal in your eyes. Plus, on a less serious note, he had no reason to be in your room right?

You left your room wearing a cropped t-shirt you cut up yourself and maroon sweats, much more comfortable than your skinny jeans and knit sweater. Jungkook was in the kitchen taking the tupperwares out of a reusable bag and you joined him.

“Do you want something to drink?” You asked whilst opening your fridge. “I have water, juice, and coffee creamer.”

“I’ll just have water, thank you.”

You took out the pitcher of water and the bottle of french vanilla creamer. As you glided around the kitchen, you couldn’t help but get the feeling that Jungkook kept his eyes on you the whole time; you pulled out your coffee mug and a tall glass from the cupboard above the sink, loaded the keurig with your favorite pod, and returned to Jungkook’s side with his glass.

“Yes?” You laughed and poured him his beverage.

“No-Nothing.” Jungkook cleared his throat. “You just look tinier in those sweats for some reason.”

You scoffed and looked at him with a shocked expression. “I’m appalled, Jeon. I let you into my home, provide something to quench your thirst, and in return, I receive slander? You wound me.”

Jungkook laughed, turning around to follow your movements towards the Keurig, eyes still not leaving your frame. “I apologize. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s cute.”

Don’t turn around. Don’t look at him.

You gave in and peeked over your shoulder to find Jungkook walking back into the living room while asking for a coaster. How could he just casually spew out the word “cute” like it was no big deal? And more importantly, why did it matter to you? He was just joking around. It didn’t mean anything.

↠↞

The entire time you spent working on the project with Jungkook was surprisingly enjoyable. He helped you create a rough draft of how you both wanted the poster board to look like, took the liberty to search up photos to print out on your laptop, and even proposed a few of his own ideas. What surprised you the most was when he pulled out his notebook that was filled with notes about the Renaissance era and offered to do half of the book report. He wasn’t keen on writing up reports, but he was simply doing what he said he would from the beginning: doing his best on the history project.

You swore you were working hard, but it felt as if you two were taking more breaks than what you originally planned. The coffee table was pushed forward giving both you and Jungkook room to lie around on the rug.

Jungkook laid on his back with his arms up in the air supporting his phone so you can look at his screen. You were sprawled out beside him, leaving a good distance between your body and his but your head still close enough to his so you can look at his music playlist. 

“You only have hip hop and r&b on your phone?” You questioned.

“Pretty much. I also have a few 90s boy band music because those are classics.” Jungkook swiped his finger along his screen and played you a song. “This is my parents’ favorite song to slow dance to. They played this a lot in our house so it grew on me.”

You closed your eyes, listening to the slow rhythm and romantic lyrics. You were familiar with this song. It was one of your favorites so you hummed along subconsciously.

“Oh shit, you know this song?”

“Yeah. My mom is all about 90s boy bands and love songs.” You pulled out your phone to reveal the music you stored. “My dad liked 50s, jazz, and swing music, so my phone is pretty much a mixture of all of those genres.”

Jungkook adjusted his body to lie on his side, inching a bit closer to you. “You remember that about him?”

“Kind of? I recall a few memories back in first or second grade where he’d put on music and dance with me and my mom. And of course my mom told me about his music tastes.” You smiled to yourself reminiscing about the innocent memories of your younger self dancing around with your father; spinning, dipping, and occasionally stepping on his feet without a care in the world.

“Can..Can you recommend a few?” Jungkook carefully asked. You only ever mentioned your father a few times since you started a new friendship with him, so he was probably gently treading your waters.

Your face lit up. “Of course.”

For the next hour, your positions on the rug changed from on your backs, to your stomachs, cross legged, and even with an inch or two of space between your bodies. You played a few songs for him, mainly your favorites. You even let him listen to noir jazz which was your personal favorite branch of the jazz family. After each song he listened to, he wrote it down on a piece of paper so he could download it later.

Loving music that was considered old school made you feel outdated and to top it all off, you also loved old school romance; making mixtapes for each other, handwritten letters, picnics. This was a guilty pleasure of yours, something only a few people knew about you.

“Listening to these makes me feel like I’m in a romance movie from the 70s.” Jungkook quipped.

“Yeah and the noir jazz makes me feel like I’m a private-I in a black and white film.” You played a song from your noir jazz playlist and began your monologue. “It was a stormy night, just as it always has been the past few days. I sat in my chair, desperately craving a shot of whiskey.” To add to your drama, you emerged from the floor and sat down on your sofa with your coffee mug in hand. “It was no use. How was I supposed to solve this case without a lick of new information? Feeling defeated, I picked up the manila folder on my desk so I could toss it across the room, but someone knocked on my office door.”

You raised your eyebrows at Jungkook who seemed to be enjoying your little play. He blew out a breath, “do I have to?”

“I mean,” You swirled your coffee around in your mug, being extra careful to not spill any. “You don’t have to.”

Jungkook laughed to himself and slapped his own cheeks before standing. “Okay, okay, but bear with me and try not to laugh.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to not laugh at the way Jungkook paced back and forth. He walked towards your dinner table and stuffed his hands in his pockets. A broken snicker slipped past his lips and he cleared his throat to collect himself.

“I didn’t know why I was here. I could’ve stayed at the bar to give everything more thought, but no, I hailed a taxi and now here I was, knocking on her door.” Jungkook stared you down and stuck his hand out for you to speak.

“Oh! Come—Come in.” You stifled your laughter.

Jungkook pursed his lips together, shoulders shaking from trying to hold in his own laughter. “I strode… I strode inside her office. Sauve, confident, dripping with devilishly good looks after being soaked in rain.” He slicked his hair back. “‘I think I have something for you, Ms. y/n.’ I said cooly and she looked at me with hungry eyes—”

“Hungry?!” You snorted, finally releasing your caged laughter. “This is a mystery film, Jungkook.”

Jungkook broke down in a fit of laughter, sinking to his knees and clutching his stomach. “Sor—Sorry! I couldn’t help it, it seemed to fit the moment. Let’s start again, come on,” he cleared his throat. “I think I have something for you, Ms. y/n.”

You wiped a tear from your eye and took a few deep breaths. “No, no, no. Come on, we have to reorganize the timeline.” You crawled back onto the floor to turn down the music.

“Aw, it was getting good.” Jungkook pouted.

Honestly, it really was. You didn’t expect Jungkook to actually follow through with your improv performance. He understood the dynamic, albeit he was turning it into something else, but it was still fun.

The rough draft was beginning to look alive. It took a lot of excessive research and a small disagreement, but it was starting to look near perfect. You were now staring blankly at the photos you needed to print out while Jungkook scrolled through his phone. He quietly sang along to a power ballad you played from your playlist and it was, in a way, comforting to listen to. Both you and Jungkook were immersed in whatever you two were doing, that neither of you noticed the sound of the front door opening.

“Hi honey, hello Jungkook.”

Jungkook flinched and flailed around almost dropping his phone. He stood up from the floor and straightened himself out to look presentable in front of your mother.

“Hello, Mrs—uh, um. Hello, auntie.” Jungkook smiled.

“Pffft.” You spurted and arose to give your mom a kiss on the cheek. “Hi mom.”

Your mother had a few grocery bags in hand and Jungkook rushed to assist her in carrying her things.

“Here are your tupperwares, auntie. Thank you for letting me use them.” Jungkook said politely.

“It’s no problem. Thank you for returning them. Your mother unloaded her grocery bags. “Do you want to stay for dinner, Jungkook?”

You snapped your head in their direction. In a way, you had a feeling your mother was going to offer him to stay over, but you were in denial about it. The last thing you wanted was to have your mother tell embarrassing stories from your childhood.

“Uh, um,” Jungkook looked at you in search for an answer and you just smiled. “Sure, auntie. I’d love to.”

“Perfect. It’s nothing special, I’m just whipping up a beef stir-fry.” Your mother tied on her apron. “Why don’t you two take a break from your project. Just wait in y/n’s room and I’ll let you two know when dinner is ready.”

“Mo-Mom!” Panic rose to your face and it was obvious Jungkook’s cheeks were just as pink as yours. Your mother raised an eyebrow and you sighed in defeat. “Okay..okay, this way, Jungkook.”

Great. Just great, This was going exactly the way you wanted it to.

↠↞

“Wow.” Jungkook trailed behind you with his hands in his pockets.

Your walls were splashed with a pastel lavender color and a few framed photos. A cluster of stuffed animals guarded your bed that was pushed at the corner of your room next to a window. There were fairy lights strung along your bed frame and around the window sill. 

Your work desk was cluttered with papers, textbooks, and containers for all of your stationery needs. Just above your desk was a white board and a cork board with multiple polaroids and developed photos tacked to it. Beside your desk was a small bookshelf that carried books, some with cracked spines and withering edges. On top were framed photos, a snow globe, and a self-painted vase with a few fake flowers in them. 

Even if you didn’t use much makeup, you still had a vanity that was setup near your closet. Jennie took the liberty to recommend a few makeup products that would suit your taste such as lip gloss, eyeliner, and a few eyebrow products; she purposely left some of her own makeup there for her benefit and yours too. You barely left the house with makeup, but there were rare occasions where you made the effort to do so.

“Sorry for the mess.” You rushed towards your desk to quickly tidy up. “Take any seat.”

Jungkook waited for you to settle yourself down at the head of your bed while he sat down on your desk chair. “I like your room. It feels almost nostalgic in a way.” He scanned the photos on your cork board and even on your bookshelf. “Is this your dad?”

He rolled over to the shelf and picked up a bright pink picture frame that had scuffs around the corners. The frame held a photo of you and your father from one of your birthdays. There was icing smeared all over both of your faces and you were smiling from ear to ear.

“Yeah. That was from my sixth birthday.” Even if the photo was far from you, you knew every single detail of it.

Jungkook held the frame and examined it in silence. You leaned over and watched as he cradled the frame in his fingertips. He grazed over the photo and settled it back on the shelf.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I can’t imagine how hard it was for you and your mom.”

You smiled at the back of his head. “Lighten up, Jeon. Sure, we miss him like crazy but we’re doing fine. I’m sure my dad is sitting on a reclining chair in heaven with a cup of coffee in one hand smiling down on me and my mom.”

Jungkook chuckled, still not looking in your direction. He kept his attention to the pictures on your cork board.

“Wow, you and Jennie have been friends forever, huh?” He stood up from the chair to take a better look at the photos.

“Yup! We’ve been sisters since kindergarten.” You beamed with pride. “Do you have anyone like that in your life?”

Jungkook hummed and stared at your photos a little longer. “Not exactly a friend, but my brother and I are really close. I would consider him my best friend.”

It occurred to you that you knew very little about Jungkook. You knew he had a brother who was two years older than Jungkook and you also knew his parents worked in the same office building but with different positions. This prompted you to ask a few questions about himself, nothing too personal, just enough to come off as friendly rather than an interrogator.

You learned that, just like you, Jungkook lived in the same house all his life. He and his brother played soccer together in elementary school, but Jungkook quit in the eighth grade while his brother continued thus granting him a soccer scholarship. His parents never forced college onto either of them, but still encouraged them to do their best in whatever studies or work field they decided to do.

The Jungkook sitting across from you was a completely different person. He wore a content facial expression and carried gentleness in his eyes. From what you observed, he was a social butterfly. Jungkook never hesitated to talk to people, be playful with them, and always made friends with everyone. The Jungkook in front of you was calm and collected, maybe because he was in an unfamiliar setting, but you enjoyed this version of him.

“You seem to cherish a lot of things.” He spun in your chair to take another glance around your room.

“Mhm. Having all of the good memories surrounding me makes me feel comfortable. It’s difficult for me to get out of my comfort zone, so my room is my safe haven.” You explained.

Jungkook turned his back to you again. “I see.”

“Hey,” your mother stood at your door frame. “Dinner’s ready.”

↠↞

Please. Please. Please.

You sat in your chair desperately hoping that your mother wasn’t going to do anything to embarrass you. Even if Jungkook wasn’t really your boyfriend, being embarrassed in front of a friend was already bad enough.

“Just eat up, okay Jungkook?” Your mother placed a large bowl of the beef stir-fry in the middle of the table. “I usually make it spicy, but I wasn’t sure if you like spicy food or not.”

Jungkook laughed while pouring a heaping amount of the stir-fry over his plate of rice. “I actually can’t handle spicy food that well, auntie. Thank you.”

Your mother returned to the table with a small bowl of sauce specifically for you to pour over your food. As you dressed up your meal with a dark red sauce that easily tickled your nose, Jungkook stared at your plate with wide eyes.

“Want to try a piece?” You asked.

“No...thank you.”

“Scared?” You teased with a smirk.

Jungkook squinted at you with lasers in his eyes. You held up a sliver of beef and a slice of a green bell pepper that was slathered in the spicy sauce with your fork. He leaned in about half way, clearly hesitating, but you heard him say shit under his breath and closed his lips around your utensil.

“Y/n.” Your mother sighed.

“What? He’ll be fine, mom.” You chuckled.

He chewed slowly, nodding his head as he let the flavors settle onto his taste buds. He glanced at your mother with a small smile and then turned to you with the same lasers in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fi—” Before finishing his sentence, Jungkook put his head down and coughed harshly into his t-shirt. He then scrambled to reach for his glass of water to guzzle it down with streaks of water rolling down his chin.

“See, mom. He’s just fine.” You retreated into the kitchen only to return with a small spoonful of sugar. “Here, Jungkook. This helps better than water.”

First, you fed him a piece of your dinner and now you were feeding him sugar. You never fed him anything since you’ve known him and it all had to happen in front of your mother. It was such a coupley gesture and it genuinely shocked you.

“Honey…” your mother sighed.

“No, it's okay, auntie.” Jungkook coughed. “I’m fine, really.” 

The two of you shared a quiet moment of eye contact before breaking out into a broken fit of laughter. It was weird. This was a situation that could easily make you uncomfortable, but you felt at ease. It was banter between friends and you had to admit, you enjoyed every second of it.

Dinner went a lot better than you expected however, your mother did bring up a few stories about how you cried easily as a child and that until now, you can’t watch The Titanic without bursting in tears. You facepalmed a few times wishing you could hide underneath the table, but Jungkook continued to smile at you, assuring you that he was having a grand time.

Jungkook complimented your mother’s tiny garden out front and mentioned that his own mother grows her own herbs; this was something you didn’t know. He even promised to bring a couple of herb seeds for your mother to plant some time.

You tried to avoid the thought, but Jungkook was doing a great job at being your fake boyfriend. It kind of terrified you because of how well he was getting along with your mother. This was dangerous because he wasn’t your real boyfriend and from your past experience with Sehun, you didn’t want your mother to get attached to Jungkook.

You looked over at Jungkook who was aiding your mother in putting the dishes in the sink. They were having a mild conversation about school and if you were a good tutor. It was a lovely sight to see; the way Jungkook smiled politely and chuckled nervously.

“Ah, mom, Auntie Eunbin is calling.” You walked into the kitchen with her cellphone in one hand and the rest of the dishes in the other.

“Oh, okay. Sorry you two, I’m going to have to take this call.” Your mother swapped her phone in your hand with the dish sponge and fled into the backyard; you assumed your auntie was calling to ask about your mother’s potted plants.

“My mom is probably gonna ask you to stay to have some ice cream, so be prepared.” You snickered and hovered over the sink.

“Can I stay?” Jungkook questioned.

“Yeah it’s fine. I hope you like fudge brownie ice cream, Jeon.” You poured dish soap onto the sponge and squeezed it a few times to get it nice and lathered. Just before you could even start scrubbing, Jungkook stole the sponge out of your hand and gently nudged you to the side with his hip.

“I’ll take this, thank you very much.” Jungkook said smugly.

“No, no, no, no. I don’t think so.” You tried to reach for the sponge, but Jungkook was at an advantage with his larger built body frame. “Jungkook, you’re a guest!”

“Exactly! So let me show my gratitude by doing the dishes.” He flug some of the soap suds at you and this triggered you to scoff and wipe the left over soap residue on his cheek.

For a good minute, you and Jungkook were attacking each other with soap and water, completely forgetting about the true objective: washing the damn dishes.

“Ahh! Jungk—”

In the blink of an eye, Jungkook encircled your wrist in his hand and had you caged against the kitchen counter. He leaned it and your breath was caught in your throat. Streaks of the soapy water were still visible on his face and you couldn’t help but look right into his eyes.

“Uh—umm…” you stammered.

“Y/n.” He breathed. “I got this.”

The bass of his voice shook you and you had to fight the blush that was rising to your cheeks.

“Oh...kay…” your voice came out as a whisper and you could feel your chest tighten.

Jungkook let go of your wrist and reeled himself away from you. The hand that was once around your wrist was now on top of your head and there was a beaming smile plastered on his face. “Perfect! It worked!”

You blinked a few times as you allowed yourself to get pushed off to the side. Jungkook casually began to wash the dishes and smiled at you one more time.

“It worked? It—?! Jeon, you asshole!” You laughed and grabbed onto his shirt, shaking him side to side.

It was weird.

You never imagined a day in your life where you’d be standing in your kitchen smiling and joking around with Jeon Jungkook. It didn’t feel strange or unfamiliar, it was like you two had been friends for a while.

So weird.

↠↞

“You know what sounds great right now? Watching The Titanic.” Jungkook quipped.

You nudged your knee against Jungkook’s and ate a spoonful of ice cream.

Just as you predicted, your mother invited Jungkook to stay a little longer to enjoy a scoop or two of ice cream. He eagerly agreed which led the two of you to sit side by side on the sofa watching a true crime series on the television.

Instead of a scoop or two, Jungkook had two mugfuls of ice cream and as tempting as it was to eat more, he refused. You ended up feeding him some of your share because why the fuck not, you’ve been hand feeding him the entire night might as well keep the ball rolling.

“I can’t believe my mom mentioned that.” You groaned and held a spoonful of ice cream to Jungkook’s mouth.

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” He swallowed. “Hell, I still cry watching A Walk to Remember—”

Jungkook froze and tilted his gaze towards you, hoping to not make eye contact but you were already gawking at him.

“I mean—”

“You cry when you watch A Wal—”

“I didn’t say anything.”

You let out a teasing chuckle. “Well, well, I know what we’re going to watch next time.” 

Jungkook swiftly grabbed the mug out of your hands and sulked into the couch cushions.

“If we’re watching A Walk to Remember, then we’re also watching The Titanic.” Now it was his turn to offer you a scoop of your own ice cream. It was a risky deal, but you agreed regardless. As much as you didn’t want to show him your crying face, the desire to see what he looked like when he cried was stronger.

You probably said okay, let’s get back to work after this episode about three times. All of your papers were still sprawled across the table and the true crime series was still playing. At this point, the project was already long forgotten.

At the next commercial, Jungkook stretched out his limbs and let out a strangled whine.

“Whew, I haven’t been this full with good food in a while.” He leaned over to the side and rested a hand on his stomach.

“Oh yeah, I forgot! I hope this didn’t ruin your diet.” You collected the mugs to leave them soaking in the sink.

“It’s alright. I’ve been juggling between the meals and snacks you gave me with other smaller meals, so a dinner like this won’t hurt me too bad.” He explained. “The lettuce wraps and roasted sweet potatoes are my favorite by the way.”

You joined him back on the couch and crossed your legs. “I’ll make you more next time.”

“No, y/n. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s fine.” You smiled. “I had a lot of fun making it. I don’t cook much anyway, so I felt like a chef.”

Jungkook smiled at you and inched a bit closer to you. “Okay, well let’s both go to the supermarket together next time so I can pay for the ingredients at least. I don’t want you to spend your money.”

You definitely judged Jungkook too quickly.

He was a sweet and courteous guy. You probably just didn’t trust handsome faces, especially ones who were as social as Jungkook. He also became easy to talk to and someone you could joke around with. Besides getting a good grade on the history project, a friendship with him was another positive outcome from this fake relationship deal. 

“Deal.” You replied.

The true crime episode came back on and both of your attention immediately went back to the television. Your eyes danced along the screen, then down to the cable box.

9:31

Holy shit. It’s already this late?!

“Hey, Jungkook.” He turned to you. “What time do you have to be home?”

He then looked over at the cable box and then back at his phone.

“Oh shit. I didn’t even realize it was this late already.” He chuckled. “Uh, I should be heading home.”

Huh?

For a second, you felt… disappointed?

“I’ll help you clean up first. We did quite the number to your living room.” Jungkook laughed again.

You both began to tidy up the living room in silence, probably because the two of you were still trying to watch the true crime episode.

“I’ll walk you out.” You smiled at him.

After letting your mother know that Jungkook was going to leave, they said their goodbyes, and Jungkook followed you out your front door.

“It’s cold as fuck out here.” Jungkook shivered. “You should’ve just stayed inside, y/n.”

You shook your head. “No can do. I have to make sure I see my guests out.”

Jungkook nodded his head and unlocked his car, tossing his back in the passenger seat.

No matter what the weather or situation was, you always made sure to walk your guests out to be sure that they made it into their cars safely.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask,” you began. “Do you always open the car doors for people? Cuz’ I always have to walk my guests out. Is it the same thing?”

Jungkook closed the door and leaned on his car. He crossed his arms and gave it some thought. “Yeah, I guess it’s sort of like that. When I was a kid, my dad used to always tell me and my brother to open the car door for our mom because it was something ‘a man should do.’” He explained and you smiled a little imagining the sixth grade version of Jungkook opening the car door for his mother. “As I grew up, I guess it just stuck with me. I only do it with girls though, my guy friends know how to get in a car.”

You laughed. “I guess it’s kind of like me then.”

A gust of cold wind blew and you rubbed your arms.

“Well, thanks for coming over, Jeon. Text me when you get home so I know you made it safe.”

“Thanks for inviting me.” He smiled.

Jungkook stood there for a moment and honestly, you were hoping he was going to get inside his car soon because he was right, it was cold as fuck outside. He lifted an arm and tugged you by your forearm to have you flush against his body. He enveloped you in a hug and it caught you completely off guard. Your hands were pressed against his car, hesitating to return the gesture, but eventually you circled your arms around his torso.

“You know, y/n, you mentioned in your room that you find it hard to leave your comfort zone and I really can’t thank you enough for being my fake girlfriend.” He said softly. “We both got out of serious relationships and getting to know you a little better, I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for you to go from holding hands with Sehun to me all of a sudden.”

You blinked a few times.

Now this was out of the blue.

“It—It was probably harder for you. You dated Chaeyoung for like three years.” You explained into his chest.

“Heh… I guess you’re right.” He gently rubbed your back. “But, really, thank you for doing this for me. It was selfish of me to ask and I hope you’re not going to hate me after it’s all over.”

You laughed thinking about how you gained a new friendship with Jungkook. “I won’t. You’re a good guy, Jungkook.”

Silence filled the air once again and you were thankful that your face was buried in Jungkook’s chest. You didn’t dare look into his eyes.

“S’warm….” you hummed.

It didn’t occur to you that you said that out loud until Jungkook chuckled and hugged you tighter.

“I told you to stay inside.” He let you go and gently nudged you to walk back up your driveway.

“I’ll be fine.” You laughed, watching him get into his car. “Drive safe!”

Jungkook waved at you, gesturing you to go inside but you countered, waving him off so he can drive off first. This went on for a while until he finally gave in, starting his car. You stood in your driveway just until his car disappeared from your line of sight. Just as fast as he left, you sprinted into your house and pressed your back against the front door.

The noise of the television filled the room but you paid it no mind. If you had to be honest with yourself, at the beginning, you thought of just discarding Jungkook as an acquaintance overall once this whole facade was over. You imagined your life going back to the way it used to be: undisturbed, going at one pace, and staying focused on yourself and school. This was the plan. You thought you had it set in stone.

Now, you weren’t sure if you were ready to leave this temporary chaotic lifestyle anytime soon. But just because Jungkook wasn’t going to be your fake boyfriend anymore didn’t mean anything else had to change. You still had a new bond with him and once it was all over, that new friendship was going to remain.

You dipped your head and blankly stared at the wooden floor.

“I guess leaving my comfort zone once in a while isn’t always a bad thing.”

-

-

-

♡ rae jagi

[kauladoeswriting]

Life Will Change, Chapter 3

It’s late and who knows what it’ll look like editing half a sleep XD I tried. Summary: Because Enzan should have known he was asking for too much to be able to start school without any complications. Word Count: 3292 Fandoms: Persona 5/MMBN Fusion Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Ao3

April 18th, 2016 Morning

The night had remained blissfully calm. Right up until that calm was shattered to pieces by a blaring alarm. 6 AM wasn’t an unusal time for Enzan to wake up, but maybe a small, unreasonable part of him thought it’d be the one of the many changes from life as an executive. Enzan pushed himself up, letting the blanket he was using fall in a puddle around his waist. It took a moment to adjust to his new room. He wondered if he’d ever get used to it.

His sleep had been mostly uninterupted by talks of the velvet room. It was beginning to feel like that one time was a freak accident, a dream made up by a mind that was already way too stressed out. Maybe the fact he’s gotten to relax a little the last few days helped? (That doesn’t explain all the oddities he’s seen since he’s come to Tokyo.) It was unimportant. Today was Enzan’s first day of school, and with the train accidents, on top of this being his first time traveling there, he wanted to be prompt and professional. After all, he knew very well the deck was stacked against him, and there was no reason to give them reason to dislike him further. In a few minutes, he had himself dressed in his school uniform, and his backpack mostly packed already, with his phone shoved in the side pocket.

“Enzan-kun, are you awake?” Meijin’s voice called up the stairs.

“Yes, I am, Meijin!” He called back, looking into the mirror he had managed to uncover one last time. First impressions were everything. Looking clean and neat would make for a good one. “If you want some cereal, hurry down now!” “Yes, Meijin!” Enzan scooped his backpack off the floor, and hurried down to meet Meijin in the kitchen for a second morning in a row. He set the bag down neatly against the wall, and sat down at the table. He poured himself a bowl of cereal, and got to eating as fast as he could. He had enough time to spend maybe ten minutes, accounting for train schedules.. A newspaper was flopped on the table in front of him. “I’ve already looked through it today, you can flip through it if you want!” Meijin was hurrying back and forth, looking for his things. Was the scientist always this disorganized? The sight confused Enzan enough that he was distracted from eating once again. This was new, compared to the Meijin he had gotten to see the last few days.

“Did you oversleep?” Enzan asked finally. “No no, nothing like that.” Meijin disappeared briefly into the living room and came back with his laptop. “I just wanted to see you off on your first day of school.” And he just… hadn’t gotten ready yet. He didn’t lie, it was just a partial truth.

If Enzan noticed, he decided not to call Meijin on it. He just hurried through the rest of his cereal, careful not to spill any milk on his uniform. He finished on time, and avoided the horror of soggy cereal. A double win. By the time he had finished, Meijin was leaning in the doorway, looking perfectly put together, as if he hadn’t been running around the house like a madman trying to get all of his things shoved into his computer bag at the last second. “All ready to go, Enzan-kun?” “Yes, I am.” Enzan picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulders. He went to put his dish in the sink to wash it really quickly, but Meijin called him away. “We’re both in a hurry, let’s leave that for later. Let’s get out of here.” Meijin had already said he couldn’t take Enzan to school. But he cared enough to at least see him off.

Unfortunately, it seems as though Enzan should have checked the weather before he left. Maybe then he wouldn’t be stuck under an awning by his school’s train station, wondering how he was going to get the rest of the way to the school without ruining his uniform. There was shuffling beside him as the two students that crashed into him yesterday came out from the train station. “It’s raining?!” yelled the boy. Netto, was it? The girl, Meiru, sighed and tucked the folder underneath her school coat. “It seems so. Didn’t I warn you to bring an umbrella?” Enzan stuck his hands in his pockets, and turned away slightly, as if paying attention anything but his new companions. He didn’t want to eavesdrop on the other students. Or at least, he didn’t want to look like he was. Netto looked busy with the box in his arms, as if that’d save him from the judgement of his friend. Meiru sighed. “I have an umbrella if you need it.” Netto perked up slightly, his cheeks colored in embarrassment. “Thanks Meiru-chan.” He shifted the box in his arms, and took the umbrella from her. With a swift motion, he extended the umbrella out and held it over his head. “If I hurry, I should be able to get something to eat! See ya, Meiru-chan!” And off the brunette went. “Netto, you forgot your folders- And he’s gone…” Meiru sighed. “I’m sorry he didn’t stick around to introduce himself.” Enzan stiffened, but was able to force himself to keep his business face on. Was it that obvious he was listening in? Because if it was, he was slipping. “He seemed to be in a hurry.”

“Yeah, he is. His club supervisor wanted Netto there early so they could get work done early…” The early bird caught the worm after all. Enzan thought it was a perfectly reasonable sentiment, but it appeared that Meiru didn’t share his opinion. Although...

“They’re not going to have a whole lot of time before class begins, are they?” Enzan’s phone beeped, and he pulled it out, wondering if he just got a notification. “No. Netto slept in, because thanks to this, he’s gotten almost no sleep this last week.” Meiru’s hand was tightend around the strap of her shoulder bag.

Enzan located the cause of the vibration and frowned. The strange app he was sure he deleted had opened itself. Definitely malware. He really needed to be careful about using it for any sensitive purpose until he could get a part time job to replace it. “They must be working hard.” Phone issues aside, Enzan wasn’t unused to long nights working towards a goal. It came with the territory. “It seems quite rigorous.” With a flick of his finger, he had closed the app and attempted to uninstall it once again. Meiru sighed. “It… It’s not just the hours.” She admits. “The teacher supervising it, Yamitaro Higure... he acts like he’s a CEO of some large warehouse, or a factory... where all the students are his employees.” Enzan raised an eyebrow, distracted from his phone’s odd behavior. “CEO? Factory?” What an… interesting way of describing it. (He didn’t realize the strange app had once again reappeared, nor that it was listening to their conversation.)

“Yeah. You’re a transfer student, right? I saw you with your guardian yesterday.” Her eyes drifted towards the school. “So I guess you wouldn’t really know.” “Know what?” “He charges outrageous fees. Just… steer clear. It’s not worth it.” Perhaps being broke was a blessing. “We’re… going to be late. I’m sorry for burdening you with my thoughts. Let’s get going.” Meiru turned in the direction she was looking, beginning to walk that way, when a wave of nausea hit her. And Enzan too.

It felt like it lasted longer than it did. Enzan shook it off quickly. Perhaps his breakfast didn’t agree with him; there was nothing to be gained from just standing about, musing on smething that didn’t matter. (He was fine with the cereal yesterday ...)

He shoved his phone in his pocket, deciding he’d deal with it later. “I agree that we should go.” Meiru had bent over, resting her hands on her knees for a bit while she caught her breath, and then straightened up with a nod. “Y-yeah. I’ll show you. It’s your first day, right?” She lead him down the streets of Tokyo, though neither of them could shake the feeling that something was wrong. Very wrong.

“I couldn’t have walked the wrong way!” Meiru was panicking, and Enzan couldn’t blame her. The building they were in front of most certainly was not a school. Rather, a large warehouse with an elaborate store front would be a whole lot more accurate. 

Enzan would almost liken it to one of those big box stores that could be found in America. 

She poked at her phone, growing increasingly frustrated. “I’ve lost all signal.” She frowned. “Do you think you could…” Her voice drifted off. “Yeah. I can.” He pulled his phone out, but the strange app was still up. Swearing under his breath for letting himself get distracted, he swiped up to close it. And it wouldn’t close. It didn’t take long to realize that his phone wasn’t going to power down either, meaning he’d probably have to let it die. 

Wonderful. “My phone doesn’t seem to be working properly either.” It was strange that they were both having issues at the same time...

Putting her phone back into her side bag, Meiru looked over the building. “Maybe it’s just a weird prank or something. Though I wonder why Netto didn’t text me about this…” She didn’t seem sure of herself. This was a really weird prank, if it was one, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like Enzan ever went to public school before this. But surely, surely, if pranks involving cloaking the whole school was a thing that happened, there would be a news article about it.

As they pushed open the doors, it didn’t seem anything like a school that Enzan had ever heard of. Two desks flanked the door, each with a student behind it. One was girl with hair in blonde braided pigtails, and the other a boy with a sweater on underneath his school jacket. Both of them had one of those “Hi, my name is _” Tags stuck to their chest, each with a number on them. 

The girl’s was a lot higher than the boys. Meiru looked between the two worriedly.

“Tohru-kun, Yaito-chan, what’s going on?” She asks. They must have been in the right place, if Meiru knew the two kids. Still not any kind of set up for a school though. 

“Welcome to the Shuujin branch of Higureya!” The two echoed together. “Please pay the 5,000 yen for the enterance fee!” Enzan blinked. Shuujin. That was the name of the school, was it not? He was already enrolled, Why would there be any additional fee? This is definitely where the school had been the night before… Meiru looked confused too. “Guys, this isn’t funny. What’s going on here?” Meiru’s eyes flickered between her two friends. “Just… why do we need to pay?” “Because we’re an exclusive club. You must pay to join. Those who can’t pay should leave.” Enzan didn’t like this feeling. “Who are we paying, anyways? I think we should talk to them.” “President Higure-san is simply worth far too much to meet with those who can’t pay our generous enterance fee.” The blonde girl answered by herself this time. Meiru turned to her. “Yaito-chan, can you just explain-” “If you don’t leave soon, I’ll have to call security.” The boy said, voice quiet and flat. Meiru spun around to face him. “Tohru-kun, please, can you-” A siren cut her off, and a metal gate fell behind her. “Intruder! Intruder!”

None of these order of events were making any degree of sense to Enzan. He had lost it somewhere around their school being turned into a warehouse and Meiru’s friends apparently were turned into the kind of corporate drones Enzan might have expected to see underneath his father. Creatures that could only be described as formless blobs shoved into a suit slithered up behind the desks, each with a weird ornate mask shoved onto its face. “This isn’t necessary, we can be going.” Meiru assured, backing towards the gate, hoping that they’d accept her peace offering and let them go. Enzan followed her back towards the gate, keeping her behind him just in case. He didn’t like the look of those so called guards.

It didn’t open, and those blobs were getting closer. Enzan knew somewhere in the back of his mind it was fruitless, but he turned and tried to shield Meiru anyways.

----

They couldn’t really get more fucked than this, right? The wording was far more crude than Enzan usually preferred, but it seemed to fit their situation unfortunately well. He and Meiru were surrounded by these amorphous blobs that might have almost looked like a child’s robot in suits if he squinted, if they weren’t carrying actual weapons. And they were leading him and Meiru to… somewhere, well towards the back of the giant warehouse, that even Enzan’s internal map was having difficulties keeping up with.

Despite Enzan’s best attempt to keep Meiru safe, it was hard to find a position that could be considered so, surrounded as they were by these wanna be robots. Meiru kept her hands curled tightly around her book bag, holding it in front of her, eyes locked on the ground. Enzan looked back and forth, looking for a chance to escape. He had no idea what was going on here, but it was definitely disturbing and he had the sinking feeling that the two of them may not be walking out alive if they didn’t escape somehow from this warehouse that had taken over the school.

Maybe if he could find some sort of break in the robot’s formation, he could possibly fight one into letting them by and then maybe they could navigate out of here? That sounded farfetched, even to Enzan. He was just one guy, against robots.

The robots guided them to a door marked “Mister President Yamitaro Higure”. Higure, Higureya, someone was really full of them selves, weren’t they? Meiru’s hands tighened even more, digging her fingertips into her palms around her strap. One of the robot blobs knocked on the door. Higure, Higure, Higure, where had he seen that name before…

Right, on that poster from yesterday. He ran the club that Meiru had been complaining about just a little bit ago. Not that any high school teachers had any business having robots that seemed to be carrying actual weapons

The door swung open, and reminded Enzan of those cheesy B Action movies that he’d watch late at night in his office while working. And as the door opened, there was going to be a mob boss sitting at the desk. It should be noted that Enzan honestly did not expect to be as close to correct as he was.

“You…” Meiru probably couldn’t get more tense than she already was, but her shoulders noticably stiffened, and she made an attempt to straighten her back. Whatever happened here, Enzan was going to do his best to deflect any trouble off of her. 

He really hoped he was just being uncharacteristically dramatic, but really, everything around him suggested otherwise.

“So these are our intruders, huh?”

The man in front of them was the oddest combination of sleazy salesman and well dressed man. He had a plaid brown vest on with an over exaggered fur coat and a black fedora, along with unruly messy hair. “Yes sir.” One of the robots informed him. “Intruders? This is our school!” Meiru said. She was glaring with all she had at the teacher. The teacher adjusted his ridiculous over exaggerated sunglasses. “Your school, huh…?” The man looked thoughtful, stroking his chin as if there was a goatee there. “You didn’t pay the price of admission though, huh?” Price of admission. The counters up front? “You can still make it up though, huh? You would make a great addition to the advertisement team.” “I want no part of that awful thing you call a club.” Meiru responded. “Why not? It’d be more useful than you harrassing my workers, huh?” Higure would be flicking the ash away from a cigarette if he had one. Maybe it was just paranoia that made Enzan step closer to Meiru.Was it just him or were those robotic blobs getting closer to them?

Undeterred by Meiru’s glaring, or Enzan’s increasing guard, Higure pressed on. “The advertisment team is lacking, anyways. It could use a little pizzaz, huh? Imagine the touch a woman’s hand could bring!” “Why would I do that?” She asked, looking like she was going to argue more. Not wanting to see what would happen if he blew up, Enzan made the executive decision that he was going to step in. She could yell at him later if it bothered her.

“Listen, I think she’s making it pretty clear she doesn’t want any part of this, so if you’ll let us go-” One of the shadow robot blobs grabbed Enzan by the back of his jacket and roughly pulled him away. It worked out in his favor somewhat, though. At least the man’s eyes were drawn to him instead of Meiru. Maybe he could create a cover for Meiru’s escape? But to his dismay, it didn’t last nearly as long as he hoped. After all, Enzan was a stranger. He was unimportant. His eyes quickly scanned the room, looking for some way to fight back. There was no way he was just going to stand down now. 

“Meiru-chan, you don’t hold the cards here, huh? You either help, or I’ll have to have you disposed of.” The blobs pushed closer to her, weapons raising up. She glared at them pulling her bag up to her chest, as if hoping swinging it at them would help her out of her situation.

You aren’t just going to let her be hurt, are you?

The voice, not one Enzan could place, caught him off guard. As well as the pulse of pain across his forehead

Of course not!

He tried to grab for the statue on the desk, but it felt like everything had suddenly become muted. Enzan heard bits and phrases between the pulsing headache.

‘increased sales’

‘you don’t matter if you don’t make money’

‘why not help - it’s for the greater good’

‘You don’t have a choice.’

Just standing there won’t change anything. 

You’d be risking yourself again, just to save her.

I don’t care!

I can’t just… stand by!

It wasn’t an accident, then. You won’t let her be a corporate tool.

I shall lend you my power, then, Enzan-sama.

Enzan-sama? Who are you?

Enzan didn’t notice that the conversation had died down. That everyone was looking at him, and somehow at some point he had fallen to his knees. Slowly, he climbed back to his feet, intending on correcting this issue. The voice, who ever it was, was right. He couldn’t step down.

“Leave her alone!”

“I was gonna let you live, huh, but if you want to ruin my business too…”

...There was weight on his face?

Who am I? I am thou….

On instinct, his fingers curled around the mask, pulling and pulling despite the pain blossoming across his face. 

With a spray of blood that would have startled him if he hadn’t been in a daze, the mask came off.

And thou art I. Let us step in, shall we?

And then for the briefest moments, the world exploded in blue flame. When the flames cleared, it was hard to believe it was the same person who had been standing there just moment’s before

“Hello, Blues.”