#top ten informations im never recovering from :

[saltedcoffeee]

SOMEONE just lost the mastermind allegations

[razzlee-meow]

something small i wrote

ehhehjkahjehehehhehe lee! hank is invading my brain and i kinda wanna write something. im going to randomly post whatever i write down below. because i can.

i have lee!deimos coming up soon, i'm writing both. at the same time. so when this is done, i'll most likely be finishing the other one. hold on tight for that one!!!! :D

deimos is "bored outta his fuckin' mind" and hank is around. unluckily for hank, deimos found out they're ticklish, and boy this information does not go overlooked.

he/they pronouns for hank. | he/him for deimos.

"Deimos―" Hank inhaled sharply, spinning on their heels to face the other man behind him who had been aimlessly wandering around the base behind him, seemingly bored out of his mind. While they never minded the members checking up and wanting to converse with him, they did mind when they did it constantly. It felt like he was breathing down his neck. He needed to say something. "Go see Sanford."

Deimos only shook his head in response. "Can't. Sanford is out on business, 'member?" Hank faintly remembered the other man yelling out in the building that he had work to attend to. It's precisely when all of this mess started happening as well. If only they had been put together on the mission, they thought. "I'm bored outta my fuckin' mind, Hank!"

"Not my problem," was Hank's reply. The masked man sat down on a chair, pulling a small radio into his lap. It had been one of the agent's radios, one that they snatched off from their dead body. He wanted to see if they could use it for their own personal gain, getting information by pretending to be an agent, but before he could even think to do that, he felt two fingers jab into his sides. His normally dull eyes widened at the shocking feeling as he almost jumped ten feet into the air.

The noise that escaped his mouth was one he had probably never heard from himself, and that alone was enough to send the stoic member into a complete breakdown. His whole face, from what Deimos could see, was completely red as he tried to process what just happened. "No way, dude, you're ticklish?" He tried to stop himself from laughing but what else are you supposed to do when you find out the world's most wanted mercenary is weak to a few tickles?!

"Deimos, don't―" Hank tried to sound threatening, but it came out in a pathetic whine. They set the radio back down, as to not break it as they tried to bolt across the room. It didn't end very well as Hank's boot had gotten caught on one of the chair legs he was sitting on. Deimos stared on in absolute amusement. "Jeez, Hank. You're makin' this kinda easy on me, huh?"

Hank grunted slightly as he felt the other man's weight on top of him. He was definitely screwed now, at the hands of someone who had no intention of letting his ticklishness pass by. "Get off, asshole," Hank muttered as he struggled underneath him, their arms desperately attempting to push him off. The other gasped in mock offense. "Hank, you're so mean! How dare you! I think you need to learn some manners." Deimos gently slid his hands up the mercenary's shirt, his hands resting on their newly discovered sensitive flesh. Hank's body tensed, and his eyes widened behind his red goggles.

"Deimos, I swear to goHOHOohd!' His fingers had only gently dug into his bare flesh, and the most surprising noise fell out of Hank's mouth. Deimos stared at him, his mouth gaping open before hysterical laughter fell out of him. It took a moment for the younger man to recover, his breathy chuckles still lingering in the air. "Hank, did you just squeal?" The other turned away, frowning underneath the cloth on his face.

"S-Shut up, and get off!" Hank stuttered, their legs kicking weakly behind them. With a playful tint in his eyes, Deimos' fingers scribbled away at the man's torso, getting every inch of flesh he could possibly find. He was doing absolutely everything he could to send the poor person into hysterics - and judging from the loud laughter now peeling from the mercenary's lips, it seemed like it was working. Hank's laugh definitely contrasted with his stoic/edgy personality, being loud and almost a little high-pitched. "D-DehehehIHIHIHMOS! FUHUHUCK! NOT THEHERE!" Deimos had found a particularly sensitive spot right down by his hips, his sadistic grin only growing wider.

"Not where? Not here?" Deimos dug his fingers into his hips again, watching the man underneath him jerk upwards, his hands desperately trying to grab at his attacker's wrists. "Man, you're just so ticklish. I wonder how you've survived like this. You know how screwed you'd be if the AAHW found out about this? Oh, but it's okay - I'm wonderful at keeping secrets. World's best." Hank's face flushed ten times more at the teasing, shaking their head desperately as they continued to laugh.

"YOHOHOHOU'RE SUCH AN AHAHAHASS!" Hank cursed out, his laughter raising an octave as Deimos continued mercilessly attacking that one spot, vibrating his fingers right into their bone. "Oh, I'm an ass, huh? Is that what I am?" He repeated that question again, his hands moving back upward towards the taller man's ribs. His hands turned into a claw shape, and when he descended on their ribs, the reaction he got was unlike any other.

Hank shrieked. And not some slight, girly shriek. It was LOUD. Enough to burst eardrums probably, but Deimos had already been through this sort of thing with Sanford (who was ... maybe equally as ticklish as Hank was) and it only slightly made him cringe. If Deimos' smirk could get wider, it probably would. "Oh? What have I found here? Is this your worst spot? Here? Or right here?" Hank was sure to kill this man unless he ended up dying of laughter. His hands traveled up and down his ribcage, attaching himself to his writhing body. No matter which way they turned, his hands continued to follow them. How was he so good at this?!

"D-DEIHIHIMOS―" Hank was almost at their limit, tears pricking at the corner of their eyes. Their laughter had turned sort of wheezy, and their fighting had ultimately stopped. He seemed to have no more energy, considering he was just lying there taking it by now. Deimos cocked an eyebrow, his nimble fingers grazing lazily over his stomach. "Are you going to apologize?" He asked in a low voice. Hank's head shot upward. "Whahaht...? Why ahaham I apohohohlogizing?!"

Deimos frowned, digging his fingers into Hank's side again, causing him to jerk forward and let out a loud squeal. "You know, for calling me an asshole! TWICE!" If only Deimos could've seen the face they shot at him, letting out a soft sigh as they rolled their eyes. "F-Fine, I'm s-sorry... just no more tickling, alright?!"

Deimos seemed content with this answer. He quickly stepped off the mercenary, grinning at all the 'damage' he had caused. Hank took off his goggles, wiping his eyes softly. "You better not tell anyone," Hank grumbled, letting out a huff as he rubbed his sides to get rid of the phantom sensation that was still there. "Fine, fine." He got back in return, his hand waving in dismissal.

"I'm back!" Sanford yelled at the front of the base, his loud gruff voice echoing through the halls.

"Ooh, San, you'll NEVER guess what I learned!"

So much for being the world's best secret keeper, huh?

[Fin.]

(i'm re-reading this shit and idk if i like it but i'll post it anyways. i'll let other people decide if it's good or not hahah)

[watchmegetobsessed]

Dead Or Alive - Harry Styles

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

pairing: Wanted!Harry x BountyHunter!Reader

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

word count: 15.2k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just got Dennis Delgado, Jeremy took him.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Not yet. Got something exciting for me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“From what?!”

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

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

“What are you doin—“

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

“Wait, my car is there!”

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

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

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

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

“No shit, you killed someone?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t hide here forever.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about you?”

“Would he look for you at mine?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure we’ll find something.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? Did he hurt you or something?”

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

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

“Harry didn’t do it. He was framed.”

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

“How… do you know that?”

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

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

“Does it matter?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You ordered food?” you ask in surprise.

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

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

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

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

“But did you have any other plans before?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, but yours just tastes better.”

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

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

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

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

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then how did you mean it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For real?”

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

“Come on, everyone knew who you were!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh wow. You really shouldn’t have.”

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

“That was just a joke.”

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

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

“No worries.”

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

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

“What, I can’t be nice?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not,” you answer right away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So what can be done now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you need that for?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t wear that, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Okay. Are you nervous?”

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

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

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

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

“Really?” you ask quietly.

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

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

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

“Harry?” you breathe out at last.

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm, yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m a killer, babygirl.”

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

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

“Oh my, sounds like a dirty job.”

“It was.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, no!” you choke out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, what is it?”

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

“Oh. Yeah, sounds logical,” you nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You were?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you been to Ireland, Love?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

[barsformars]

Tricky

//

g - fluff, slighttttttt angst, suggestive

p - san x reader

w.c - 1.9k

t.w - san touching reader's naked body

c - san takes care of you when you get injured and are left all alone at home. the catch is? both of you obviously have feelings for each other but.....san

a.n - uusjsjjs this was requested through private message! im sorry it took so long lmao uh, this is just 1.9k of plotless words nothing will be solved by the end of the story so its almost like word vomit???

t.l - @closer-stars @jeongyunhoed @fairyofdusk

//

"It's not funny," you snarled at the pink haired boy who seemed to be overly amused at this situation in which both your arms were put in slings. You had slipped over a puddle of water, and that had sent you flying down the small flight of stairs right outside the taekwondo dojang, resulting in two dislocated shoulders. San pressed his lips firmly into a tight line to stop the corners of them from quirking up. On one hand, he does feel really bad, but if he said you didn't look ridiculously hilarious right now, he'd be lying. "I wonder who was on the verge of tears earlier on."

"That's because you were in so much pain I felt so bad for having asked you over for a sparring session!" San defended himself, a small pout forming as he did so. "At least the body and shin guards saved you from breaking your bones."

Once the elevator reached your floor, San pressed on the button to hold them open while keeping a close eye on you as you slowly exited. You've never noticed how much arm or shoulder action happens when you walk, until now.

It was only when you stepped through your front door and noticed your roommate's house slippers still sitting on the bottom of the shoe rack do you remember that they were out on a business trip. Being alone at home right now wasn't an option for you when you couldn't do anything by yourself, but your roommate wouldn't be back till next week. You didn't want to burden any of your other friends so late in the night, you had no choice but to rely on San.

But things...are always a little trickier with him.

"I can only stay for tonight," San sighed as he placed his phone down on the coffee table. You don't know if it was a sigh of relief or one of frustration; he had pleaded over the phone for ten minutes. "But my manager said that they can send someone over to help you out for the next few days."

"It's alright, I'll ask Jimin for help tomorrow. If they aren't available, I'll let you know, yea?" San nods, though rather reluctantly. He trusts that you'll be able to take care of yourself, except physically for now at least.

San holds you by the waist to support you as you got up from the couch, keeping an arm wrapped around it as he brought you to the bathroom. "Please tell me you have a bathtub."

"I insisted on having one, glad it's finally of actual use."

"Oh yeah."

As you soaked in the warm bath that San had ran for you, you couldn't help but think of everything that has been happening between the two of you. The lingering touches, the jokes with double meanings, the way he gazes at you so softly, and the sudden tension that fills up the atmosphere following all those. San hasn't put a title over what this relationship was, and you've been too afraid to take the lead even though you knew that friends don't act like that towards one another. You didn't want to pressure him, he already has a lot on his plate. But he ought to give you an answer soon if he's about to see you in your most vulnerable state, right?

There comes another knock on the door, the tenth one in the whole duration of your bath. "I was being serious when I said don't try to act tough and do everything alone." The knocking continued on non-stop until you replied.

"You're an impatient one, aren't you?" You joked. "I'm done, I need help getting out."

"Not impatient, just worried." You hear his back leave the door for a moment as he stood up from the floor. And as politely as he could be while intruding into your private space, San pushed open the toilet door gently and stepped in after informing you first. You couldn't stop the giggle from escaping your throat when you took sight of him, his eyes shut close in consideration that you might not want him seeing you naked.

"Oh, you're laughing? At me?" San asked in disbelief as he pulled his arms that were searching for the wall back and rested his hands on his hips, a playful smile growing on his face. "Why are you laughing?"

"Because you're cute," you cooed, much to his dismay.

"I'm not cute!" San argued, his eyes now open and glaring at you, still rather adorably. But before you could tease him any further, San practically stomped his way to the bathtub, leaning down to your eye level as his arms gripped onto the sides. "Don't mistake my manners for cuteness, I'm not." He said, almost with a growl, as he reached into the water and wrapped his strong arms around your torso, pulling you up so that you could stand. Taking pride in the way your eyes widened in surprise, San couldn't help but smirk before giving you a quick peck on your forehead. "You're cute."

Once he got you out of the bathtub, San tried his best to not look at your body as he dried you up with a towel while you stood there blankly, still at a complete loss for words. "You're so rude," you told San after finally able to process whatever just happened a minute ago. The boy merely raised his eyebrows, his lips pursed. "Taking advantage of my injuries to show off your strength when you know how I feel about it."

"Well, you're not stupid, you know how I feel about you. It's only normal I act cool a little," San replied nonchalantly but you could tell that he was too afraid to look you in the eye. "Come on, let's go get you dressed."

"Also, just thought that you should know...." San paused for a moment to make sure that you dried your feet properly on the mat before continuing. "I almost patted your bare ass earlier on." You can't even blame him. With how touchy he and his members are, you aren't even surprised that touching people's butt has become their second nature. But even then, he really didn't have to tell you.

"TMI dude."

San had been watching YouTube tutorials on how to put on shirts with a dislocated shoulder while waiting for you to wash up earlier on. You wouldn't have known either if he wasn't showing off all the knowledge that he had learnt less than half an hour ago by trying to convince you quite passionately, and with demonstrations, about why a dress shirt would be much easier to put on than a t-shirt, especially in your case.

"I will. I will wear dress shirts until my shoulders recover," you sighed heavily in defeat. "But just for tonight, can you help me with a t-shirt? I want to sleep comfortably even if it's just for tonight."

This time it was San's turn to sigh as he reached out to pinch your cheek. "I already told you that it will hurt."

"Make it not hurt then." You shook your head so that he would let go.

"Just sleep naked then," San mumbled under his breath but loud enough for you to hear, causing you to scowl at the boy. He catches your expression and sticks his tongue out at you. "Am I wrong?"

"T-shirt," you stated firmly, refusing to comply even when you knew San only had the best intentions for you in mind. You already don't think you could sleep with two injured shoulders, much less with your crush staying the night with you, and definitely even much lesser with an uncomfortable sleeping outfit. "Or I'll bite you." Those words becoming a reality became much more probable when his dimples makes an appearance once again, resembling the dent on a mochi when you press into it with a finger.

"I don't think that's a wise idea right now, maybe next time-" he gave you a gentle boop on the top of your nose with his finger-"now, your majesty, may I help you put on your gold thread shirt made from silk of the finest quality on so that both me and you can be spared from getting ourselves into a tricky situation?" If you could throw a punch at San right now, you would, but all you could do right now was to sit on the bed quietly and accept the teasing. And also whatever San was about to do to help you put on the shirt.

You wonder if it's too late to change your choice of clothing after San kneels down behind you on the bed, his chest and toned abdomen almost plastered onto your back as he reached over your shoulders to grab your forearms. "I need you to put your arms a little closer together, we'll have to try to get both through the sleeves together," he explained clearly and waited for your nod before he moved your arms as cautiously as he could, his eyes studying every twitch of your facial expression to check for discomfort or pain. "Tell me if it hurts okay? Don't act tough, I keep telling you that but please, please don't act tough."

All you could manage was a soft "mhm", your throat feeling too tight for proper words to come out of your mouth. You wonder if San, like how you could feel the warmth of his hands and body, could feel the heat radiating off your cheeks too. "I'm going to pull both sleeves up now, it may hurt a little," San warned, one hand coming up to pat your head affectionately before he gripped onto the sleeves again. Even with how gentle he was being, a wince still manages to escape from you, putting a pause on San's actions as he tilt his head to look at you. "I'm sorry, it will be over soon." You nodded, fully trusting him.

Though there were still a couple more times your shoulders hurt before the sleeves were fully through, the little apology he makes every time that happens comforts you, and also, makes your heart beats embarrassingly fast. Getting your head through the hole was a much easier feat and it didn't take long before your shirt was on.

San got off your bed to fetch his backpack and for a moment you thought that he was going to pull out the painkillers that you were prescribed with but instead, he took out two boxes of shoulder brace. "When did you even get that?" You asked, amused and touched at the same time. The shoulder slings the hospital had put you in was terribly uncomfortable and while the brace may not be way better, it was still better than the sling.

"When you were getting your x-ray done," San replied with a proud smile.

"Aw, I would give you a pat on your head if I could."

Upon hearing that, San practically shoved his pink hair into your face as he bent down. "You can kiss me on my head."

"I will bite you."

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 64 of 83 : World of Sea

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 64 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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Kurin watched her unbar the door of the cabin as she thought about it.  She said, “No, I don’t think so.  He used to be my friend.  I just wish that I understood how things went so wrong.”  She looked a mute appeal at Tanlin and added, “How could he hate me so?  I never did anything to him.”

Tanlin paused before opening the door.  She considered before answering, “Nae t’ ‘ear Silor tell t’e tale.  ‘E believes t’at ye were t’e author o’ all o’ ‘is misfortunes.  According t’ ‘im, ye were a Dragon-wicken an’ ‘eld t’e ‘ole Naral fleet in t’e palm o’ yer ‘and.”

Kurin was taken aback.  “You mean it?” she asked.  “What could put him so far onto dry land?”

Tanlin looked at Kurin with pity in her eyes.  “Oi’ve been tryin’ t’ tell ye.  ‘E’s insane w’ere ye are concerned.  ‘E believes ‘imsel’ a tragic ‘ero, persecuted for ridding t’e fleet o’ a deadly an’ unperceived menace.”

“Lady Tanlin,” came a forlorn voice from within the cabin, “I can hear you out there.  Who is with you?  Has the fleet come to their senses yet?”

Tanlin opened the cabin door, leaned in, and said, “Silor, someane ‘as come t’ speak wit’ ye.  She’ll be representin’ t’e Grandalor before a fleet tribunal.  Will ye tell ‘er t’e exact trut’ o’ yer involvement in t’e poisoning?  ‘T may ‘elp our case.”

Silor’s voice answered, calm and assured, “Of course I will talk to her but it is a waste of time.  No case will be needed.  The Witch is dead and in a short time her curses will be gone.  When people are themselves again, they will know themselves freed.”

Kurin spoke from out in the hall where Silor couldn’t see her.  “Silor, you were a good student at learning to navigate by wave and current. Do you know where we are?”

He replied with confidence, “We are in the Dragon Sea.  It was clever of Captain Barad to bring us here.  No fleet owns these waters.  We will be safe here.”

“What of the Great Sea Dragons?  If Mecat taught the witch, perhaps they will not like your having killed her,” Kurin said.

“Dragons live too long to care much about any particular human.  They won’t care one way or the other,” Silor replied airily.

“I’m afraid that you’re wrong about that, Silor,” said Kurin, stepping into his view.

“You’re dead,” he said flatly.  “Nobody can survive Ord poisoning.  Your dying is why the Grandalor had to flee in the first place.”

“No,” Kurin contradicted, “I lived.  The sailor that you duped into poisoning me is the one who died.”

Silor looked at her in dread and leaped at the conclusion that fit his delusion.  “You turned the Ord against the man who poisoned you!” he accused.

“I didn’t have to,” Kurin said quietly.  “The Corliss fleet knows how to heal Ord poisoning.  Sula carried me to her ship and Doctor Worran cured me.  The sailor that you gave the poisoned awl to wasn’t so lucky.  He got the poison through his shirt from carrying the awl in his pocket.  It got to his lungs first.  The doctor tried but she couldn’t save him.”

A wild glint entered Silor’s eyes and he shouted, “Don’t lie!  It was you!  You and that evil Dragon magic!  You killed him just like you did your father!”

Kurin recoiled as if she had been struck.  The very idea that she would have harmed her father was past simply shocking.  It was truly sickening and called to mind her mother’s accusations as she sank into madness.

Silor bunched his legs under him as he paused for breath.  “What does it take to kill you?” he screamed, lunging at Kurin, arms outstretched, hands clawed.

“More’n ye’ve got, Lad!” said Tanlin as she pounced almost into his path and grabbed his arm as he passed, spinning him headfirst into the wall.  Kimson landed on top of him and Tanlin calmly pulled her knife from concealment.  She laid its blade against Silor’s throat and added, “Mister Kimson’s goin’ t’ get off o’ ye, an’ ye’re goin’ t’ get onto yer bunk very slowly.  I’ ye try t’ ‘arm Kurin again, ye die.  Clear?”

Tears of rage and frustration in his eyes, Silor mutely nodded.  Carefully, Kimson released Silor, who slowly got to his feet and sat on his bunk.

Dully, he asked, “I heard whales, who else has she killed?”

As Kurin was about to protest, Tanlin waived her to silence and answered, “Nane.  We lost ane killed outright an’ ane mortal injured.  Yer Longin did t’ose murders an’ some ot’er injuries as well.

“Just gettin’ Kurin ‘ere ‘ad a ‘eavy price.  Macoul t’e steersman died o’ a cut t’roat an’ Lenai Halin died later o’ an abdominal wound.”

That brought a reaction of disgust from Silor.  “So, the witch got to you too?  She made you sacrifice good people just to finish her revenge on me?”

At that, Kurin would not be silent.  “Revenge?  What for?  No witchcraft is needed.  I never lifted a finger against you.  You bring yourself down!”  Bitterly, she added, “If I was a witch, I’d have just changed you so that you wouldn’t care.”

“You knew that I was here on the Grandalor!  How?”

“You were careless.  You were seen at the Gathering,” Kurin retorted angrily.  “Even the sailor that you killed told us it was you before he died.  You are under the same execute on sight order that you got put onto Barad and all the officers of this ship with your murder plot.”

That brought Silor up short.  “Barad?  He tried to stop us.  Why would the Council order him executed?”

Tanlin burst in, icily angry, “M’ too, as an officer o’ t’e Grandalor.  We’re all t’ be executed on sight because o’ ye. Our ‘ope lies in Kurin’s ‘ands an’ t’e jaws o’ t’e Dragons.  T’e Dragons ‘ave let us ‘arbor ‘ere in neutral woters but we cannae go t’rough t’em t’ escape t’e justice o’ a fleet t’at seems t’ ‘ave nane.”

Silor began to whimper and curl up.  “I tried to save you all.  I never wanted to hurt anybody…”  He uncurled an accusing arm, pointing at Kurin.  “If she is your hope, you are as doomed as I am. . .”  He collapsed, eyes rolled back in his head, still breathing but showing no other sign of life.

Shaking and slapping elicited no response.  Silor was gone where none could follow.

Sadly Tanlin said to a thoroughly shocked Kurin, “Oi warned ye.  ‘E wa’ so far ont’ dry land t’at not’ing could bring ‘im bock t’ safe woter.”  She looked grimly down at Silor’s still form and reached a decision.

“Oi’m proof t’at Doctor Corin can care for a person in a coma.  T’he doctor’ll care for ‘im until ‘e recovers or simply dies.” She turned to Kimson.  “Guard ‘im until men come t’ take ‘im t’ sickbay.  See t’at ‘e’s restrained after ‘e’s taken t’ere.”  

She led Kurin back to the Captain’s cabin.  Barad was out and they had the place to themselves.  Tanlin ordered food and drink for Kurin and then said, “T’at wa’ awful.  Oi wad never ‘ave guessed t’at ‘e wad just retreat like t’at.  Wat now?”

Kurin had no answer.  She simply sat and shook, crying inside but not allowing the tears to reach the surface.

Sympathetically, Tanlin sat by her and held her hand.

With a bit of scratching at the window, Thunderhead entered the cabin with a skelt in his beak.  Tanlin looked up at the big Sea Hawk and smiled.

“Ye’re right, T’under’ead.  She does need lookin’ after just now. T’anks for t’e ‘elp.”  She took the small fish and held it out to Kurin.  “‘Ere, youngster.  Take a bite so ‘e’ll know t’at ‘e’s ‘elped.  Friends ‘oo’re ‘urt need food t’ get well.  Tis all t’at ’e knows ‘ow t’ do for ye.”

“It’s raw,” Kurin said, a bit of smile beginning to show around the edges of her shock.

“T’at’s ‘ow tis best for young birds,” said Tanlin tolerantly.  “Go on, ‘e’s really tryin’ t’ ‘elp.”

Kurin took a small bite of the fish and realized that the skelt was good, even raw.  She set to nibbling around the coarse bones until most of the meat was gone, Thunderhead watching critically.  Tanlin absently scratched him under the right wing.

By the time that she was done with the fish, Kurin had a grip on herself.  The distraction provided by the somewhat comic antics of the bird and having to eat as well, helped.

There was a knock at the cabin door and Benj, the cabin-boy entered with a tray.  It had sliced, hard-boiled paddle duck eggs, red-weed bread and dried fillets of skelt for Kurin to eat.  Beside the water bottle were sweet and tart flavors.

By the time that she was done eating the simple fare, Kurin had regained her composure.  She gave Tanlin a measuring look.

“I have all the information that I am likely to get,” Kurin announced, “and I have begun to outline a multi-issue defense.  You said that you could summon the fleet Council and the Longin.  I would like to see how you do that from here.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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[katefiction]

Cora, Chapter 6: Long Live

by katefiction (Maria) / 2013

March 2164

Ben is pacing the room, his feet burning a hole in the carpet.

‘What if they hate me?’, he asks.

‘They won’t’, I laugh, trying to catch his hand as he walks past the bed.

It was seldom that I saw him nervous.

‘Look’, I say, ‘Dad is bound to grill you, and Mum generally dislikes most people, but they will love you’

My parents were about to meet Ben for the first time. In an unusual response to the ‘crisis’ that was my relationship being exposed, they had joined forces for the first time in years. It was Mum’s idea, I knew. I rarely saw her, and firmly took Dad’s side after the divorce, but Mum had never stopped trying to get me to visit or to be involved in my life. Despite that, we still didn’t have the usual mother-daughter relationship, and I never told her anything that I wouldn’t tell Maggie.

Ben bites the nail on his little finger aggressively, ‘I suppose we should get down there’.

*

We enter the dining room at Dad’s apartment in Clarence House, where lunch is laid out on the table. He was yet to move into Buckingham Palace officially. Mum and Dad are already there, sitting on the top ends of the table and staring in opposite directions to avoid making eye contact with each other.

‘Afternoon’, I say overly cheerfully.

Maybe I’m a little nervous too.

Dad gets up immediately, followed by Mum, and exchanges kisses with me.

‘Your Majesty’, Ben says, giving him a short bow, like I’d taught him.

‘Nice to finally meet you’, Dad says, extending his hand.

I hoped he would’ve said ‘call me Arthur!’, but maybe that was asking for two much after I’d lied to him for six months.  

Mum glides up to Ben, her tall thin frame, and hair scraped into a bun, make her much more intimidating than Dad.

‘Good afternoon Ma’am’, Ben says, taking her hand.

‘Caroline, please’, she says surprising me. ‘Shall we eat?’

As we settle down to lunch, I am taken back with how well Ben gets on with Mum as they discuss the state of British sport. Dad on the other hand, is a different matter.

‘So, are you serious about my daughter?’ he says suddenly as Ben is tucking into a ploughman’s sandwich.

Ben coughs uncontrollably.

‘Dad!’

‘What’, he says holding his hands up, ‘you’ve been sneaking around for months, of course I’m going to ask that’

‘We haven’t been sneaking around’, I say indignantly, ‘we were just keeping it quiet until we we’re ready’

‘Why do you need to keep it quiet from me?!’ he blasts. I know underneath he is just hurt, but I can’t stop myself.

‘Because…because…’

Ben glances over to me, recovered from his choking fit and obviously waiting for an answer just as much as Dad is.

Why was I so reluctant to tell Dad about Ben?

‘I believe Cora’s reasoning was that yourself and the King…the late King, I mean, would want a formal meeting, and Cora believed a meeting like that would get out’, Ben says loyally.

‘Is that right Cora?’

‘Yes’

Dad shifts his gaze back to Ben, ‘and what did you think of this idea?’

It’s a test, and Ben knows it. Agree with me and be in Dad’s bad books, or agree with him and be in mine. I watch the cogs turning in his mind.

‘Honestly Sir, I care about your daughter very much…’

I feel myself turn red.

‘…and I would’ve liked to be more honest about it.’

It feels like the air has been sucked out of the room, with everyone waiting for Dad’s response. Even Mum, usually so unaffected, looks on the edge of her seat.  

Dad nods. That’s all, just a simple nod of approval.

Nice save.

‘There’s not much we can do about it now’, Mum says sharply, ‘no point in arguing’

I agree. I don’t want to argue with Dad about it anymore. He’d been frosty with me since he found out and now, two weeks later, he’d thawed a little.

Things between Ben and I had suffered too. He had seemingly forgiven me after I left his flat on that February day, and we’d even gone to the cinema and dinner in public. But I was still reluctant to do any more than that, and the holiday we’d discussed was still out of the question.

By the end of the lunch, Ben and my parents are making jokes about my stubbornness, which I take as a positive sign.

‘We were playing backgammon, and she just refused to believe she’d lost!’ Ben recalls as Dad and Mum walk us out.

‘I didn’t lose!’ I say, hitting Ben on the chest.

‘You did Cora’, he looks down at me in that way he does when he wants a reaction.

‘Stop trying to wind me up’

‘It doesn’t take much’, he strokes a hand down my back.

I see Mum watching us approvingly and as she kisses me goodbye, she mutters, ‘he’s lovely’.

***

June

Spring is in the air and Buckingham Palace is a wash of business. The staff bustles around the place like bees, speaking in low whispers and hurried tones.

‘Ow!’, I yelp as my seamstress pricks me with another needle.

‘Sorry Ma’am’, she says apologetically.

‘Don’t worry’, I say rubbing my hip where the pin got me.

Standing on a small platform, I try my best to stay still as she makes the final alterations to the dress I will be wearing at my father’s coronation in a couple of days.

Annie and Jenny watch as the seamstress fits the fabric around my waist. It’s the most extravagant dress I’ve ever worn. In gold fabric, with intricate beading all over the front, it cascades to the ground, making me look like a true princess.

‘You look so gorgeous’, Jenny says as if hypnotized by the sparkling beads.

‘Thank you’, I say, rather embarrassed.

‘It’s fucking amazing’, Annie says brashly, prompting a scowl from me.

She pokes her tongue out in retaliation.

‘Can you take a picture and send it to Ben?’ I ask.

Annie points her phone at me and I pose with my hand on my hip.

I want to keep Ben in the loop. What with the coronation preparations and him training for Wimbledon, we were having to catch every moment we could together. It wasn’t easy.

‘He says “you look beautiful”, urgh pass me the sick bucket’, Annie says throwing her phone on the couch.

The butterflies in my stomach threaten to escape.

‘You’re in love’, Jenny purrs as the seamstress leaves the room.

I blush fiercely, ‘shut up Jen, you wanted me to be with Nick, remember?!’

‘That was last year’

‘You said we were perfect together’, I remind her.

‘Well Nicholas doesn’t put that goonish look on your face, so I change my mind!’

‘Do you love him?’ Annie asks, not bothering with any tact.

I suddenly become very interested in a loose bead on my dress.

‘I think she’s ignoring us’, Jenny says to Annie.

‘I think she’s busy thinking about the dirty summer she’s gonna have with him when all of this is over’, she teases.

‘Stop it!’, I exclaim, giving in to their teasing.

It was true, I was looking forward to this summer. The coronation and Wimbledon would be over and Ben and I were going to celebrate our one year anniversary. We planned to make up for all this lost time, but that didn’t mean the whole world had to know about it.

*

The fitting over, I’m hurried into a rare meeting with Dad. It was the only time he had to spare with me before his big day in a couple of days.

I sit at his desk opposite him, feeling like I’m in a job interview of some sort.

‘Dress fitting go ok?’ he says, rifling through some papers.

‘Good, I’ll scrub up well for you on the day Daddy’, I smile, my mind still half on Ben.

‘Right, we need to talk about what happens next’

‘What happens next?’

Why do I feel like I’m not going to like this?

‘After the coronation Cora, keep up’

‘What’s happening after the coronation?’, I furrow my brow.

We hadn’t really discussed much about my future only that Dad told me to get back to normal.

‘This summer, I will be creating you as the Princess of Wales, you investiture will happen in the autumn sometime, and you will be undertaking a tour of Australia not long after’

The barrage of information hits me all at once.

‘I don’t want that’, I say, unable to think of how to protest. ‘I have plans this summer’, I add dumbly.

‘With Ben I suppose?’, Dad asks, clearly unimpressed.

‘Yes’, I say at almost a whisper.

‘You’ll have plenty of time to spend with him’, he says dismissively.

‘Not with work, and now this I won’t!’

‘You won’t need to worry about work’, he said it so plainly as if that will stop the volcano that’s about to erupt.

‘Daddy, don’t say it…’

‘Your work on the estates will be terminated this summer, I know you enjoy it, but you have bigger responsibilities now’, he looks at me, knowing how I’m going to react.

‘I’ve worked hard for that job! I won’t just give it up now’

‘You have to’, he says less patiently, ‘Princess of Wales is a full time job’

I see all my plans crashing down around me. I’d truly believed I’d have a year at least to enjoy my life before full time duties. Time to spend as a normal twenty-something. Time with Ben.

‘Why are you doing this to me?’, I try to hold back the tears.

‘Cora, I can’t pick up all of your grandfather’s work, and keep up with my own, you need to step up now’, he rubs his temples.

‘I don’t want to’

The room is silent for a split second, until Dad erupts, standing from his chair in anger.

‘AND YOU THINK I DO?! DO YOU THINK I THOUGHT I’D BE KING ALREADY!? I HAD PLANS TOO CORA, TEN YEARS OF THEM, ALL DASHED IN A DAY’

He begins to breathe heavily, clearly out of breath.

‘Im sor-’, I begin to say.

‘You need to grow up, you are not a child’, he points his shaking hand at me. ‘You want to gallivant around the world with this man, and you have no consideration of what your actions mean for the rest of the family’

‘Dadd-’

‘It’s time you put this family first, instead of yourself for once’

‘I’m sorry’, I manage to get the words out this time.

Dad softens at the sight of me becoming tearful. He walks around the table and sits on the edge.

‘It has been hard for all of us’, he says, calmer now, ‘I know you didn’t expect to be in this position at twenty-six, but it’s your duty’

I nod weakly. I wish it wasn’t.

‘Every time there is a new monarch, the Republicans’ cause gains support’, he explains. ‘Granddad was very popular, I need to make sure that I am taken seriously as King, and part of that is my daughter being taken seriously too’

He takes my face in his hand. I know he is trying to tell me that I need my reputation to be of a hard working princess, not a tabloid queen.

‘I don’t want to give Ben up’, I say, honest with him for the first time about my relationship.

‘You don’t have to sweetheart, just understand what kind of attention you are getting by being with him’

Dad had been there for me through everything. Despite the plentiful lectures over the years, he’d never given up on me. I couldn’t let him down now.

‘OK’, I say.

This summer will have to wait.

*

Coronation Day

Ben had been understanding about the situation. Disappointed, of course, but understanding. We hadn’t had a chance to meet after he’d got through to the Wimbledon final, which was to take place two days after the coronation, but we planned to meet that Sunday.

I chat to him over the phone as my dresser fixes the tiara to my head. It seems slightly ridiculous to be holding a mobile phone while dressed in this elaborate gown and tiara.

‘Are you nervous?’, he asks.

‘Terrified’, I admit.

‘You’ll be fine’

‘I hope so, I’ll just have to think about seeing you on Sunday to make me feel better, though that seems ages away right now’

‘Maybe next time I’ll get an invite’, he teases.

Next time you might be there with me.

‘Maybe, if you behave’

‘I can’t promise anything’

Maggie pops her head around the door, a sign that we need to get going.

‘Look, I’ve got to go; I’ll call you later if I get the chance’

‘Alright, good luck…oh and Cora’

‘Yes?’

‘Don’t trip’.

*

The glory of the coronation of King Arthur is all you would expect it to be. In contrast to the darkness of the funeral, London is practically glowing in red, white, blue and gold. Flags and plastic crowns bob up and down in the sea of people.

The King’s guards line the street and trumpeters signal the grandeur of the occasion as our family arrives at Westminster Abbey.

I step out of my carriage to a wall of flashing lights. My dress is so heavy that it forces me to walk slowly and in time with the music. I keep my eyes focussed to the front. Don’t trip. Don’t trip.

My mantra does its job and I am seated up on the balcony with my grandmother and cousins as Dad takes centre stage. The huge robe engulfs him as he is walked towards the Coronation Chair, the cheers of thousands of people echoing through the abbey.

Down amongst the eight thousand guests packed inside the abbey, I see Nicholas, Jonathan and their parents seated in the middle of a section to the left of Dad. Nicholas is looking up at me. He catches my eye and I give him a little smile and nod in return. Also in the abbey is Mum. She stares straight ahead with a blank expression on her face and I wonder if she is thinking about what this moment would be like if she was still the Princess of Wales.

After three hours of prayers, hymns and pageantry, Dad is finally crowned. The Imperial State Crown is placed on his head, and he is handed the golden orb and sceptre. The traditional image of the crowned monarch is complete.

London is happier than I have ever seen as we process back to the palace and my arm begins to ache from the constant waving. It’s the least I can do for people who have slept on the streets overnight for this. I can’t help but think about my wedding one day. Will the country be as happy then? As much as I hate the thought of saying my vows in front of millions of people, I begin to realise how much it means to share it. As for Dad, he needn’t have worried, the people love him.

*

‘Did the crown nearly break your neck?’ I whisper to him as we tuck into the feast that evening.

Dad chuckles, ‘I thought it might not fit on my fat head’

I giggle under my breath. When I was younger, Dad always used to make me laugh on these big occasions to take the pressure off. Now I was doing the same for him.

‘Did they use washing up liquid to get it off?’ I tease.

‘Ye-’, he stops mid-sentence to greet the Ambassador of Japan.

Turning back to me, he says ‘I’m sorry none of your friends could be invited’

Sometimes Dad still thought I was a six year old that couldn’t sit still for an hour.

‘It’s fine Dad…and besides Nicholas is here if I need a break for ten minutes’

‘Ah yes, Nicholas’, he says cheekily.

‘What does that mean?’

‘Don’t think I can’t see him looking at you…he’s a nice boy…’, he whispers.

‘And I’m with Ben’, I mutter back.

Our conversation is interrupted by Maggie, who slips in subtly by my side, ‘Ma’am, may I borrow you’

I look to Dad for approval.

‘Go, go, but don’t be too long’

I scurry out of the room with her and travel along the long passages of the palace until we’re out of earshot.

‘What’s the problem?’, I ask.

‘No problem Ma’am’

She is looking particularly glamorous today, dolled up in a designer dress, but still holding a walkie talkie in her clutch.

‘This way…’, we round a corner, ending up in a dark, secluded area of the palace.

At the bottom a set of grand stairs stands Ben.

‘What are you doing here?!’, I squeal.

‘Shhh’, Ben and Maggie say together.

‘I’ll leave you to it’, Maggie adds.

As soon as she’s gone, I hurtle up to him and he pulls me in.

‘I thought I’d see how you’re doing’, he smiles.

‘But how did you get in’, I say, practically crushing his body with mine.

‘Connections’, he winks.

At this point, I don’t particularly care how he got here. I push my lips against his and he responds immediately, kissing me fiercely and making my knees wobble.

‘You look incredible’, he holds me by the waist and surveys me in my dress.

‘I look ridiculous’, I say.

‘Stop talking shit’, he buries his head in my neck and runs his hands down my back.

I swear if we were alone…

‘I’m so glad I don’t have to wait until Sunday to see you’

‘Don’t talk about Sunday’, he grumbles.

‘You’ll be amazing, I know it’, I say, running my fingers through his hair.

‘At least you’ll be there as my lucky charm’, he sighs.

‘From home I will…’

He backs away, ‘what do you mean? You are going to be on court aren’t you?’

I laugh uncertainly, ‘The royal box is fully booked, I’m sure’

‘You wouldn’t be in there; I’ve got a space for you in my player’s box’

I suddenly feel very hot. I had met Ben’s parents and had gotten on with them swimmingly, but this was practically a declaration of our relationship to the world.

‘Ben, you didn’t even ask me’, I try to say it softly.

‘I didn’t think I had to, how many times have we talked about me making the final and you being there?’

‘Things have changed, we need to keep a low profile’, I plead.

‘So you won’t even come and stay in the back out of sight?’, he pulls completely away from me.

‘I can’t, if anyone saw me…’, I try to hold his hand but he snatches it away.

‘This is fucking ridiculous, everyone knows anyway’, he growls.

‘We agreed that we’d see each other after the match’

He is being ridiculous.

‘Yes, after the match which you were supposed to be at’, he is struggling to keep his voice down. ‘Sometimes I wonder if you’re even serious about this’

‘Of course I am!’

‘So it’s ok for me to come here and support you, but you can’t do the same?’

‘I want to be there, please try and understand…’

‘I have tried. For months. I let it go when you ran out of the flat, I’ve let our holiday go, and now this’. He turns away from me. ‘How long is it going to be like this? Another year, two years?’

‘I don’t know’, my voice begins to shake.

His tone lowers once more, ‘if you’re not in a place where you’re happy to admit we’re together, then maybe we should stop this now’

‘It’s not easy for me! These things are complicated’

‘I’m not asking you to marry me Cora…I’m asking you acknowledge me!’

‘I do!’

‘Then come to the match’

We stand opposite each other like we’re in a stand-off. The silence is deafening.

Eventually, I have to speak, ‘I can’t, you know I can’t. Please don’t ask me to go against what my family needs right now’

‘You mean you won’t’

My anger starts to rise. If only he realised how much I really care for him.

‘Please don’t do this’. A chill in the air seems to tell me what’s coming.

‘I can’t do this anymore, I don’t want half a girlfriend. I should be preparing for the match right now, Rob would have my bollocks if he knew I was here, but I wanted to be – for you’

Tell him Cora, just tell him.

My anger takes over. ‘And I want to be there for you, stop making out like I don’t!’

Ben shakes his head, ‘I’ve tried to understand Cora, but I can’t. Keeping it to ourselves is one thing, denying my existence is another’

‘I just want to protect you, to protect us’

‘I don’t need protecting. I was willing to work around your life. But since your Granddad died, it’s like you want to push your life with me and your real life further apart. I want all of you Cora, but you don’t want to give it to me’

‘Don’t go’, I say pathetically.

‘Why not?’

The words don’t come out, they are lodged in my throat. 

He’s right. Things haven’t been the same.

He turns around and walks towards a back door without saying another word.

‘Because I love you’, I say as the door shuts behind him.

[cheese-knife]

A Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing

Chapter One: The End.

Hello everyone! I know I’m not exactly know for writing fanfiction, but this is the newest project im working on. Its a bit strange, as it is a crossover between BNHA and The Wolf Among Us/ Fables Universe. But this AU is starting to dig a precious place in my heart, and I’d love it if you checked it out.

Rating: Teens and Up

Pairings: (Eventual) Bigby Wolf/Snow White

Read it on Ao3

The room was nothing special, a plain grey room built like a brick shithouse, meant to house and contain some of the most dangerous criminals in New York for questioning. The only things furnishing the room were two chairs, a table, and a single light without a cover. One of the walls had a rectangle of dark glass inlaid into the brick.

Bigby Wolf sat unnaturally still in the uncomfortable metal chair, greasy, unkempt hair hanging in a curtain around his head as he stared a hole into the table in front of him. His hands were latched to the table by heavy cuffs, kept well apart so there was no way he could rip the hand cuffs off without doing significant damage to himself. Even then, the small red lights blinking on the cuffs showed that they were actively suppressing his quirk so its not like he would get very far.

The door to the room opened with a slam as two stern looking officers entered the room, one carrying a significantly thick file folder under his arm. One stood at the door, and the one with the folder sat down across from Bigby at the table.

“Fifty-Six confirmed counts of murder.”

The folder was slammed down onto the table,

“Sixty-One counts of property destruction.”

Dozens of photos of the were laid out before the wolf, each a snapshot moment from his rampage.

“An an association with an unknown number of missing persons. Their bodies were never recovered.”

He didn’t move as the officer spoke. He didn’t even acknowledge that he was there.

“The list goes on and on. You know what this means, don’t you Mr. Wolf?”

Nothing. The three in the room sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes.

“Damnit-”

Bigby didn’t even flinch as the hand cracked across his face, hard enough to break the skin over his cheekbone. Definitely a strength quirk behind that.

“-You know what this means right?” The officer was in his face now. “We have enough shit on you to put you away for a *thousand* lifetimes, and to kill you a hundred times more. Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

Bigby finally looked up, furious, wild yellow eyes digging into the frustrated lawman. In this moment, it was clear that he was more animal than man. He had the physicality of a caged feral animal.

In the years after his mother passed away, Bigby let himself slip into the pitfalls of his powerful quirk; in fact, he welcomed it. He welcomed the separation from the world and his humanity, fully embodying the once silly nickname his brothers used to tease him with. The Big Bad Wolf.

The trial went unsurprisingly smoothly. There was no question of what his verdict would be as he stood in front of the judge, still an overwhelming presence in the courtroom despite his restraints.

”Members of the Jury, in the case of Wolf vs. New York, what do you say?”

A small, timid woman stood and cleared her throat.

“Your honor, the members of this Jury finds the defendant wholly GUILTY of his crimes.”

The jury filed out of the courtroom as the judge dismissed them, all more than ready to leave the presence of the newly convicted felon. Bigby could smell the fear-tinged pride on each and every one of them.

The judge looked down on him.

“Bigby Wolf, it is the judgement and sentence of this court that the charged information is true, and the jury having found that the penalty shall be death. It is the order of this court that you shall suffer death, said penalty to be inflicted in Southport Correctional Facility in the manner prescribed by the law, the date later to be fixed by the Court in warrant of execution. You are remanded to the custody of the warden of Southport, it is so ordered. In witness whereof, I have hereon set my hand as Judge of this Superior Court, and I have caused the seal of this Court to be affixed thereto.”

“May God have mercy on your soul.”

He could see the pure joy in the Judge’s eyes as he delivered the sentencing.

It was five years he spent in prison. Each one hammering in the point that the law was making a mockery of him. Everyday, the guards got a little worse, a little more teasing and pushed the limits of what they could do to him without him fighting back. The bastards got comfortable around him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

They treated him like a sad dog doing tricks just for the pleasure of a shitty treat, only to be denied even after groveling at their feet.

Five. Fucking. Years.

At this point he was just craving some sort of relief. He even welcomed death, and despite the judge’s promise all those five years ago, the court seemed determined to draw out his torment for as long as possible before sending him to the slaughterhouse.

Bigby blearily opened his eyes, never getting enough sleep these days, involuntarily flinching at the sharp sound of metal banging against metal. Though the cuff permanently clamped to his wrist prevented him from transforming, its not like they could cancel out his quirk entirely. Enhanced hearing had its downfalls, and every morning he woke up to the same three scents. Sweat, shit, and corruption.

But anyway, apparently he had a visitor. Which was strange, considering Bigby’s family was either gone, or dead, and he never made any friends. So who the fuck could possibly want to see him?

Only after having shackles firmly attached to his wrists and ankles, he was led into the surprisingly private- well, as private as you could get in a supermax prison- and was forced into a rusting metal chair in front of a booth comprised of two phones and bullet proof glass. And on the other side, politely escorted by guards to the seat in front of him, was a woman with skin like porcelain and hair blacker than coal; none other than the Princess Hero herself: Miss Snow Fucking White.

Real cute fucking name there, right?

She picked up the phone on her end, staring down Bigby with her calm, cold stare until he did the same.

“Mr. Wolf-“

“Listen, Miss White, I’m not in the fuckin’ mood to be berated by one of the top heroes in New York, so cut the shit and get outta here. Whatever you have to say, I’m not interested.” Bigby nothing but growled into his phone, nearly hanging up then and there and dragging is own ass back to his cell.

Miss White simply let him calm down, cleared her throat and continued.

“Mr. Wolf, I am here to inform you, in association with the Fables Hero Agency, that the state of New York is willing to grant you amnesty for your past crimes:”

That got Bigby’s attention. It wasn’t obvious, but there was a certain way his eyes widened just a touch, his body tensed and leaned just a hair in towards Snow that let her know that he was interested, very interested.

“Why should I trust you?” And. Twice as skeptical.

“Because, put plainly, I am your last chance at you living past 35. My agency has been interested in your case for a long time, and your time is running short. The court has scheduled a date for your execution, the end of this month. In 2 weeks exactly.”

Sounded good enough- except it didn’t. Bigby couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of him mouth, regretting them as soon as they hit the air. Why would he be actively trying to fuck up what’s already secured for him.

“Why the hell would you be interested in a serial killer with a knack for tearing people limb from limb?”

Snow leaned in towards the glass, hovering just a few inches from the glass.

“Because, you’re not as bad as everyone says you are.”

“Seven years ago, you broke into and killed six men in the basement of the Geppetto Casino, all wealthy and well know celebrities, CEOs and millionaires. These men were preparing to rape, torment, and humiliate the three women they were holding captive, including myself and my sister, before auctioning us off to the next highest biding sick perverted fuck.

But you showed up before any of that could happen. You gave those men what they deserved and you let us go without so much as a scratch before you nearly destroyed the whole building. The world mourned the death of those truly evil men, never acknowledging their heinous crimes, while insisting that you were the true monster. But I know the truth. At least in that moment, you were a hero.”

“...I’m not always like that, you know. I’ve killed innocent people.”

“We have one of the best investigative teams at the agency, I think we both know that isn’t entirely true. At points, yes. You were a villain through and through, but you’re not a bad person, Mr. Wolf.”

“Right... so where the hell do I sign up for this pardon thing?”

Snow produced a large envelope from a bag sitting at her feet and removed a few legal documents from it and handed them to a guard to present to Bigby.

“You should know that this doesn’t come without heavy restrictions. You’ll be under twenty-four observation, as well as required therapy, and extremely strict parol. You will also be required to study and work at the hero agency, and acquire a hero license at some point in the next 2 years. If you breech any terms of the contract, you’ll be arrested and sent back here to await execution again. But, if you manage to survive all of this, you’ll be relatively free within ten years. Reduced to five on good behavior.”

Bigby nodded, soaking up the information Snow was giving him while he looked over the several contracts placed in front of him. It was a lot of legal jargon, but it was easier to understand than he thought it would be. Well that, and he also spent the little free time he did have studying up on legal practices, curiosity pushing him to figure out just how fucked the system was right now.

“One problem, I can’t sign this. They don’t really let me use pens.”

Snow almost looked like she smiled at that. And it seems like she thought ahead, producing a pad of ink from the bag and passed it along to Bigby’s side of the glass.

“Don’t worry, your fingerprint makes a good replacement.”

There were ten pages in total, and each page was stamped with Bigby Wolf’s fingerprint black swirling ink. The pages were handed back to Miss White as she now truly smiled and looked at Bigby.

“I’ll need to send the paperwork in to be finalized, but you should be released within forty-eight hours, we’ll send a car to bring you to the agency do that you can see where you’ll be staying for the next few years. I look forward to working with you, Mr. Wolf.”

She returned her phone to its place and turned to leave, but he reached out and tapped loudly on the glass. Snow looked back and picked up her phone again.

“Bigby.”

“Mr. Wolf I-“

“Just call me Bigby.”

Next>

[callboxkat]

Infinitesimal (part 12)

Author’s note: Feeling a bit better at the moment, so this got finished. It’s still technically Monday where I live, so.

Warnings: panic attack mention, blood mention, injury mention, illness mention, death mention

Word count: 1118

Check the notes for the masterpost

...

Roman got home from his classes later that afternoon. Logan was sitting in the kitchen, working on homework.

“How’s Patton?” he asked after the obligatory greetings.

“He asked to be alone,” Logan said after a beat. “It’s only been an hour or so since then. I figured I could give him a bit longer.”

“You’re sure he’s not trying to run away?”

“Well, I hope he isn’t. I am giving him the benefit of the doubt.”

Roman nodded. He glanced toward the doorway that led to where Patton was. “I’m going to go check on him, to make sure he’s still there and, y’know, alive.”

Logan just looked away without reply. Roman shrugged to himself and walked towards the other room. Just outside the doorway, he stopped, and softly called out, “Hey, Patton? You okay? May I come in?”

There was no response, or at least none that he could hear. Roman frowned, a little concerned. He stepped through the doorway and approached the cage. The door was still open, but Patton wasn’t where Roman had last seen him. Nor was he inside.

“Patton?” he called softly. He looked around on the table, his concern growing, until he finally spotted the little guy. He was half hidden between the cage and some books, curled up under his blanket, fast asleep.

Roman sighed in relief. Patton was alright, and he hadn’t run away. He watched for a few seconds, and the mouse-man shifted without waking. He needs a pillow, Roman thought. Maybe he could work on that before starting his homework.

Back in the other room, he approached Logan. “He’s fine,” he informed him quietly. “Just sleeping.”

Logan tapped his pen against the side of his textbook for a moment. “Roman… I….”

The man in question paused, frowning. “What?”

“I… do believe that I may have… inadvertently contributed to—or that is, I….”

“Hey, Poindexter, calm down and spit it out. What is it?”

“A small situation occurred while you were gone.”

Roman glanced back towards the other room in concern before addressing his roommate warily. “Which means?”

“A panic attack, I believe, which may have been spurred on by… or—or at least contributed to by my actions.”

“You gave him a panic attack? Dammit, Lo, I told you to be gentle! What did you do, interrogate him? Please tell me you didn’t grab him.”

“No, of course not! I—I merely offered to remove the door to the cage, so that he would no longer feel trapped. However, he grew quite anxious as soon as I entered the room with the screwdriver, and he did not seem to listen when I attempted to properly explain my intentions.”

Roman groaned loudly and covered his face with his hands. “Oh, my gosh, Logan….” After a few seconds of frustrated silence, he dropped his hands. “Just think for a second. Try to imagine you’re him. How would you feel if someone came at you with a sharp metal tool as long as your entire body? He probably doesn’t even know what a screwdriver is.”

There was a long pause. Then, in a sheepish tone, Logan said, “I suppose you do make a valid point.”

…

Virgil was watching the room from his perch on a shelf, where he’d spent the last ten minutes or so. He could see a vague shape below that he knew to be Patton, lying on the same table where, as far as Virgil was aware, he’d spent practically the whole time since the humans had brought him here.

He tensed when one of the humans entered the room and approached Patton, but they left after only a few seconds without bothering the captive little. Virgil waited a moment, then forced his muscles to relax again.

He wanted to go down there, to try again to rescue him; but a few things stopped him.

The first was his brother, who was currently asleep at home. He would probably not approve of Virgil’s choice of vantage points if he were here. Emile thought that Virgil was rather helpless. He claimed otherwise, of course, but Virgil knew. If it were up to his brother, Virgil would never leave home. Of course, he knew it was out of nothing but concern and love, but Virgil needed to get out sometimes. While he hated taking risks, he also didn’t want to live his life closed up in a wall. He had to make sure that Emile didn’t find out about his exploits, at least until after Patton had been rescued. Virgil had already accepted that there was no way to avoid the end of any secrecy about his outings once he was free. He knew Emile wouldn’t buy that Patton had just wandered into their house, and for all Virgil knew, Patton was a horrible liar anyway.

For now, though, he needed to continue keeping his comings and goings a secret. Sometimes, that was easier said than done.

Virgil rubbed the frayed end of his hoodie sleeve between his fingers. It had been quite the challenge getting the blood out of the jacket before Emile could see it—it was still damp, in fact, although that wouldn’t keep Virgil from wearing it.

The second reason he wasn’t down there rescuing Patton right now was that he wanted to wait until the humans weren’t around to stop him, or worse, to see him. The odds of Virgil escaping were not exactly in his favor should he be spotted. His gimp foot slowed him down, and on top of that, Patton didn’t seem to be in the best of health either. If Virgil was caught, he knew that there was no way they would be able to get away. Virgil needed to find a low-risk opportunity for a rescue attempt.

As much as he wanted to get Patton out of there as soon as possible, he was more willing to wait now than he had been before. At first, he’d felt that he had to rush—for all he’d known, Patton’s death, severe harm, or interrogation were imminent. Virgil had wanted to act before it was too late, before Patton was hurt or any information about the larger population of littles was revealed. But that didn’t appear to be the humans’ endgame—he still hadn’t figured out what was their endgame, but Virgil seemed to have some time. Whatever they were planning, it seemed like they wanted their captive to recover first. Virgil could wait until Patton had improved more, and until he could take advantage of an occasion when the humans were gone.

Of course, if it looked like Virgil was running out of time, he would act sooner.  But for now, he could wait.

Tag list:  @romanasanders @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @anyay666 @nightmarejasmine @side-for-sides @joyfullyyouniquefangirl @infinitesimal-grey @justanotherpurplebutterfly @punsterterry @dylan-winchesters-blog  @i-like-cookiez @smol-jar-of-pickles @brookeisanerd @scorching-scotch @of-swords-and-princes  @a-black-pegasus @brooky71 @downrightdanny @rainbow-sides @arc852 @thats-so-crash @bluebloodstains @musicwithalex @thepoolofthedead @wolfie-kinz  @patton-loves-coloring @starryfirefliesbloggo @purplesoul-at-hogwarts @lotusthatexists @quoth-the-sparrow @awesomelissawho @amuthefunperson @faithfreedom @heck-im-lost @gayfandomsaremything

[emybain]

After Archenemies 2/?

A sister has decided to continue whatever this is. I have loose plans for this, and idk how good it is bc im not dedicating as much time to it as my own personal projects. im just doing this for fun, so I hope y’all enjoy! Here is the link to the first part! and here is a link to a one shot I wrote that is literally all fluff

“Nightmare tried to save you?” Oscar’s eyes bulged. “The chick took down Frostbite’s entire team and neutralized all of them except for Stingray. Not to mention that she’s an Anarchist, you know, the worst enemy of the Renegades.” He raised a finger. “Also, side note, how the hell did she come into possession of Agent N? That stuff hasn't even been revealed to the public yet.”

“I stole Genissa’s powers,” Max reminded them, glaring. “But Nightmare made her do it. She knocked her out when Genissa refused to give her powers to me to help me.”

“But why?” Adrian muttered. “Max, Ace told me in the catacombs that Nightmare is his niece." Adrian saw Ruby nod in agreement from beside him. “Clearly, she knows who you are and what you can do. That means she must know that it was you who took Ace Anarchy’s powers from him ten years ago. If anything, she would want revenge on you the most.” His voice had dropped so low that he wondered if the others could comprehend his words. It stung, how Nightmare could have such motives against an innocent kid, but it was the truth. The fact that, according to Max, she had tried to save him was unfathomable.

“I don’t know.” Max shrugged feebly, although there was a hesitation to his voice, as though he was hiding something. Adrian bit the inside of his cheek. “That’s just what I can remember.” His eyes became droopy suddenly, and he leaned back against the pillows.

“We should go,” Ruby piped up, offering a smile. She grabbed both Oscar and Adrian by their arms. Adrian notice Oscar jolt at the contact. “Max is still recovering, and he needs his rest.” When Max started to protest, she tsked. “Nope. We actually have to go...fill out some forms. And with Danna still in swarm mode, we have to help her. C’mon, guys.” It was a lame excuse, but she tugged at Adrian and Oscar, who followed her. They all chorused a goodbye to Max, who returned it with a grumpy voice.

“The more we learn about this chick, the more confused I get,” Oscar muttered once they were out of earshot of Max’s quarantine. “Not to mention that she seems to have a lot against your family, Adrian. I mean, first with your dad, then that thing about your mom, then your own little rivalry, and now Max.” Oscar shook his head.

“Very strange,” Ruby agreed. The three of them paused at the elevator. Oscar pressed the down button. “And what Oscar said earlier brings up a whole new mystery: How does she have Agent N?”

Adrian was quiet, even as they stepped into the elevator. Finally, he spoke, once the elevator started moving. “She’s immune to Max as well, like she knew about his powers.” A thought moved to the front of his brain. A terrible, horrible, but believable thought. One that sent a chill down his arms. One look at Ruby and Oscar told him that they must have been thinking the same thing.

“I think Nightmare is a Renegade.”

“Nightmare? A Renegade?” Simon shook his head in disbelief as he added seasoning to the pot in front of him, filled with chili. Hugh, who was assembling a salad, barked out a laugh.

“Out of all your theories, that’s my favorite one,” he said, mixing in a vinaigrette. Upon seeing Adrian’s unamused visage, however, the grin plastered on his face disappeared. He cleared his throat. “Adrian, the probability of that is slim. The system looks into every single record of every Renegade, and fingerprints are taken to ensure that they aren’t in our list of criminals before trials. None of the fingerprints or records match up with Nightmare.”

Adrian resisted the urge to groan. He tapped his fingers against the countertop restlessly. “She’s Ace Anarchy’s niece,” which got him a knowing nod. This information had been brought to them immediately following Ace Anarchy’s arrest. “Which means,” Adrian continued, frustrated, “that someone with blood relations to him could be in the system, right?”

His dads exchanged glances. Never a good sign. Simon was the one to speak. “We would have been notified long ago if that was the case, and she would be in our custody.”

“Also,” Hugh added, holding a finger up, ”Ace Anarchy has no known living family. From our records, his parents passed away years ago, he never married, and his only brother and his family is dead, killed during the Age of Anarchy. Nightmare may be working for him, but it is highly unlikely that she is his blood related niece. It’s more likely that he took her in and she called him uncle.”

“How do you know all of that?” Adrian’s eyebrows shot up, and he perked up in interest. This was new to him. Maybe something he could use for investigation.

“You have to know your enemy.” Hugh shrugged simply.

“Okay...then how do you explain how she was able to use gas bombs filled with Agent N to take out Frostbite’s team?” Adrian pressed, leaning on the counter. “The public doesn’t know about it yet, so how does she? And Max. She was immune to Max, right? How do you explain that if Max’s power is confidential?”

Hugh started taking out bowls and silverware and glasses for the three of them. He sighed. “We’ve been discussing that with the Council, actually. Adrian, listen, after everything she did that night, she’s at the top of our wanted list. We’re doing everything we can to catch her. We want her brought to justice just as much as you, but we have to do it the right way. This is our job to worry about, not yours.”

“Max said Nightmare tried to save his life,” Adrian said suddenly, sitting up straight. Simon paused his stirring; Hugh paused from arranging the table.

“What?” Simon raised an eyebrow, blinking.

“Nightmare tried to save Max,” Adrian slowly repeated.

“That’s...very hard to believe, Adrian.” Hugh stroked his chin in contemplation. “Even coming from Max. He’s been drugged up for two weeks now on medication. You can’t trust everything he says. Just last week he told me that the color yellow tastes like chicken.”

“He was pretty awake today.” Adrian shrugged, not sure what to do. They had a point. He just wanted to be right. “He also said that it was Frostbite who stabbed him. It was on accident, of course.”    

“That’s a very serious accusation.” Simon turned off the stove. “Unfortunately, we have no surveillance footage of that night, or we would have evidence. Genissa Clark is in no mental state to be questioned right now, nor are the rest of her team. They are very upset and shaken from their fight with Nightmare. It would be disrespectful to harass them with questions.”

“I know,” Adrian grumbled. Genissa’s entire team was currently in bi weekly therapy sessions after the aftermath of the night of the gala. Their fates had yet to be decided by the council: whether or not they could still be Renegades despite all but one having been stripped of their powers. Adrian knew that it was horrible that they were neutralized, but secretly, he was glad they were no longer prodigies. None of them deserved the title of Renegade, especially after they killed Hawthorne and put it on the Sentinel, Adrian’s secret alias.

“Now, as for the Nightmare Being a Renegade conspiracy theory.” Hugh leaned back against the sink, arms crossed. Adrian could tell that his dad wanted to end the conversation. “It is highly impossible that Nightmare has gotten through the system and is a Renegade. We can’t answer all of your questions right now though, Adrian, because we are as stumped as you. We do know, however, that she is very dangerous and cannot be underestimated, especially with the knowledge that she is connected to Ace Anarchy on more than an ally level, that perhaps he was her mentor.”

“We made the mistake of not prioritizing her before, and we won’t make the same mistake twice,” Simon added, nodding as he poured hot chili into three bowls.

“You were so sure about the helmet, and look what happened.” Adrian waved a hand in front of him, growing annoyed with his dads, as much as he hated it. “Nightmare was able to break the box and take the helmet. Yet another mystery.”

Both of his dads sighed. Adrian could feel the frustration and tension on both sides. “Adrian, you need to be able to trust that we are handling the situation.” When Adrian opened his mouth to protest, Simon shushed him. “Neither of us want to hear anything more about Nightmare tonight, understand? You need to let it go.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Adrian grumbled out a “yes”. He kept his mouth shut through dinner, letting his dads talk about their day and about the latest TV show they were watching.

Adrian wasn’t going to talk about Nightmare anymore, but he had an investigation he needed to start.

[sunriseskog]

Steel Part 6- Auston Matthews

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

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 2283

Notes: major props to the anon that gave me the idea for where to go with this!! im so so unbelievably sorry that this was so late!! once stuff slows down with school uploads WILL be regular, im sorry :(((

The hotel was nearly 45 minutes away from the airport— which explained the complimentary shuttle— but after not being able to sleep for the entirety of the second leg of the flight, you were absolutely exhausted. Upon entering the van, you roughly shoved your backpack into the empty seat between yourself and Auston. As much as your heart was screaming for you to reach out for him, to feel him again, to touch him again after so long, you vowed to yourself that this would be the closest the two of you would come to each other for the rest of your lives, no matter what it took. You knew that you wouldn’t be strong enough to resist him forever, hell, you were barely strong enough to resist him right now, but that didn’t mean that anyone else had to catch wind of how hard of a time you were having. This was your battle to fight, and you’d save yourself and your heart this time if it was the last thing you did. Before anything could be said, you pulled your headphones out of the side of your bag and pushed them into your ears as you felt the driver slam the trunk closed, having finished loading up your bags. Claire shot you a sad smile through the rearview mirror, shooting you a subtle thumbs up at the sight of your headphones, glad that you were taking preemptive measures to protect yourself from whatever other bullshit the group surrounding you could potentially hit you with. She had seen how hurt you were by Steph’s manipulative tactics, and after that betrayal, coupled with the resurfacing trauma surrounding Auston and everything that had been going on at home before you had left for vacation, neither of you were sure how much more you could take.

The gentle rocking of the car coupled with the music flowing through your earbuds had never failed to lull you to sleep, and this time was no exception. This time, however, instead of waking to the same calming sensations, you were jostled by the rough swerving of the car, which sent you plummeting towards the floor of the van.

Seeing you shut yourself off from him so abruptly had hurt. Seeing the woman that he had been so hopelessly in love with disappear completely had destroyed him, but to see you have to put up physical barriers just to protect yourself from him had somehow intensified that all-consuming and never-ending hatred he had for himself. The hatred he had for what he had done to you. It had punctured him in a part of his heart that he wasn’t even aware was capable of breaking more than it had. He had been sure that he had nothing left to give. No more pain to feel, no more damage to endure… but he had also thought that before he had stepped on the plane. The plane ride had been torturous, and the drive showed no signs of being any different He was still unable to tear his eyes off of the side of your face, desperate to take in as much as you would allow. The image of your face had long since been burned into the back of his brain, every memory clutched desperately in the throws of his consciousness, each moment replaying over and over again every waking moment of every day since you had left, but for some reason he was still incapable of stopping himself from trying desolately to commit every new discrepancy in your appearance to his memory. He noticed the minuscule new scar above your left brow bone and the prominence of your cheekbones. The bags under your eyes were accentuated by how much your face had thinned. She wasn’t eating again, he thought. This was his fault. He felt the voice return to his head before he heard it, telling him how badly he had fucked up, how this was all his fault, how he had done this to you, how he had ruined his own life…how he had ruined you. Auston’s heart was somehow even heavier than it had been after the bathroom incident on the plane. It was pressing so intensely against the back of his lungs that he felt like it was going to burst through his skin any moment now. His throat was thick with guilt and his lungs were clogged with the tears that he was forcing himself to hold back. He saw your eyes begin to slip shut less than ten minutes into the drive, subtly using his elbow to push your bag up against your side in an attempt to prevent you from leaving uncomfortably against the window like he knew you had a habit of doing. His efforts seemed to have more of an effect than he intended, as you slumped over and leaned your head against the top of your bag, mere inches from where his shoulder was pressed against the other side of it. His fingers twitched and he felt an overwhelming physical pull to reach out and touch you, to trace his finger over your cheek, to brush away the hair that had fallen across your face, to prove to himself that you were really in front of him. His internal battle lasted longer than he had realized, looking up as the van began to approach the resort. Upon passing the gates, the van slammed harshly on its brakes, honking at the presumably inebriated residents that had swerved in front of the vehicle. Auston saw you move out of the corner of his eye, instinctively throwing his arm out in front of you, not noticing the fact that his phone had been flung across the floor from the movement. Your eyes shot open as your body fell forward, your hand unconsciously wrapping around the forearm covering your torso to stabilize yourself. In that moment, it felt like every time you had felt his touch, and every moment you had gone without it, hit you full force. Your eyes widened and you were still struggling to breathe as the van pulled under the awning of the entrance to the resort. As desperate as he was to prolong the contact for as long as possible, he knew that that wasn’t what you wanted. He ripped his arm from your grip once he was sure you were okay, pointedly avoiding eye contact as he roughly grabbed his suitcase from the floor and practically threw himself out of the van, not bothering to lean the seat up for Mitch or Steph. You were still in shock from the overwhelming sensation of having his arm around you again, even though it had only been for a few moments. You slowly climbed out of the car, your hands shaking slightly as you tried desperately to recover from the events that had transpired moments before.

As you moved to close the door, you caught sight of Auston’s phone, you assumed it had gone flying after he had caught you but when you looked up to return it to him you noticed that the entire group had disappeared. With how often you had forced yourself not to think about Auston, you had never taken into consideration how he may have been affected by everything that went down. You had assumed that he was thoroughly enjoying his prime years as the NHL's most eligible bachelor, but what you had seen so far on the trip seemed to disprove that entirely. Your attention was diverted by the driver insistently placing the handle of your suitcase into your hand as Claire began to lead you to the reception desk to retrieve your room keys.

It had been almost half an hour before you were able to lie down in bed, retrieving the phone from where you had shoved it into your pocket in your haste to check in. You took a deep breath, hoping to prepare yourself for whatever awaited you once you looked at the phone. You had deleted all of the Leafs’ numbers the moment you left Toronto, so it wasn’t exactly an option to call Mitch or Steph on your phone to inform them of the mishap. You were positive that it was an invasion of his privacy, which only strengthened your hesitation, but it honestly hadn’t been that long since you assumed that there was no need for privacy between the two of you. Besides, you didn’t care anymore. There was nothing that you would see on there that would actually change anything. You and Auston were over. And that wasn’t going to change.

After giving yourself a will-strengthening pep talk, you picked the phone up, the screen illuminating your face at the motion. The first thing that caught your eye was that you were still his background, but that was only the first of many blasts from the past that bombarded you the moment you caught sight of the screen. It was the same picture that had been his background since about a month into your official relationship, a candid picture of your side profile that he had snapped a few moments after you had woken up next to him for the first time. You wondered if the girl he had been seeing was as heartbroken as you were when you saw that photo.

Unable to look at the manifestation of the happiness you and Auston had had together, your eyes moved to the notification at the top of his screen. It looked to be a reminder of sorts, but for the life of you, you couldn’t determine what it was of. The text read “365 days, fuck-up.” Who is he calling a fuck-up? You thought. Is he talking to himself? You felt your eyebrows furrow in confusion as well as frustration at the fact that he would think it was okay to talk to himself that way. You knew how hard he was on himself, and how much weight those words carried, and you knew that there was no way that had improved since you had left. You shook your head, removing yourself from the dangerous path your mind had begun to lead you down. You placed your thumb on the home button, biting your lip as the passcode screen appeared. You were relieved to no longer be assaulted by the memories that accompanied that photo, but now you were at an entirely different obstacle: figuring out his password. His birthday was unsuccessful, as was Ema’s and the day he was drafted to Toronto and your own birthday. You were beginning to lose hope, resigned to just turn it in to the concierge desk and hope for the best, before you remembered the reminder that had occupied his lock screen. 365 days ago, that would be— holy shit.

Shades of black began to enter the corners of your vision before you could fully process what was happening. One year ago. You… you had left Toronto one year ago. It was exactly one year ago. And…and Auston had remembered— no— reminded himself of that day, hurt himself because of that day. You swiped down from the top of the screen, your panic only intensifying as you scrolled through all of the notifications, the screen flooding 364, 363, 362… it seemed to go on forever. Your breathing became more and more rapid and you lost sight of your original intention as you thought about how awful it must have been for him. Living in that house alone, you leaving so suddenly and so completely, him tearing himself apart every time he looked at his phone.

You couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault. The guilt started forcing its way up your throat as your throat began to burn and you began to choke at the bile sitting at the base of your esophagus. You still weren’t seeing clearly, and the weight on your chest was preventing you from getting the air that you needed to push off the panic that was beginning to consume you.

The frantic vibrating of the phone in question was able to push you to the edge of consciousness, temporarily forcing away the intense panic attack that you knew you were going to have to face eventually. The name Mitch Marner flashed across the top of the screen, a goofy picture that you recognized had been taken in your— Auston’s living room covering the seemingly unending countdown that had come to consume your mind.

You took advantage of the lapse in your brain, inhaling deeply to force yourself to calm down enough to actually answer the phone call. Once you had steeled yourself, pushing the remnants of your panic attack back below the surface, you hit Accept and moved the phone up to your ear, preparing yourself for the painful awkward interaction you were about to have to have with Mitch.

“Hello?” The voice on the other side of the line questioned. You were plunged immediately back into the depths of the panic attack that you thought you had freed yourself from moments ago. It wasn’t Mitch. Any memories that had been brought back by seeing him, or being near him, or touching him, or discovering what you had seen on his phone were intensified immediately. The voice that had haunted your worst nightmares and your most longing daydreams for the past year seemed to assault all of your senses. He had only said one word, but you could practically feel yourself being swaddled by the gravel in his voice and the signature crack in his voice. It wasn’t Mitch. It was him. It was Auston.

Notes: this is very bad and im aware of that but im too exahsuted to try to fix it so im sorry lmao

[iacceptthatchibby]

Words that hurt the most- Part One

~(Okay so this is my first time every posting something I wrote so please don't be super critical I'm learning (always open to advice though) :)))) The reader is worried about her boyfriend Filip after hearing news about a Mayan incident. 

***smutt***

“Filip!” you yell from the kitchen.

“Yes love?” you hear heavy treaded footsteps make their way up the hallway. Filip turns the corned to meet you in the kitchen.

“I’ll be working late tonight so would you be able to water the plants for me?” you smirk looking around at the dozens of plants around the two of you. He sighed then smiled at you.

“Ana’ thing for you lass.” You beam up at him and he pulls you in for a kiss. Lips dancing softly first, then his tongue glides over your bottom lip, and you allow the kiss to become more intense. Soon this becomes a struggle for control tongues battling each other. Your head told you you needed to get to work so you broke away from his lips.

“I-have-to-go” you said giggling as he pecked at your lips between each word.

“Nah, how ‘bout ye stay home taday?” he joked.

“I wish I could.” You kissed him once more before turning to leave. “Be safe love.” Filip said before smacking your ass, his signature departing gift. “I always am.” You yelled back still beaming.

...

You and Filip “Chibs” Telford have been together for about 7 months. You were an accountant who happened to be good friends with Lyla. She was in desperate need of someone to help her run the porn studio, someone she could trust. You had grown up together, despite her being a few years older than you, you were the best of friends. 

You quickly hit it off with Filip despite the age gap. You were 23 and had never thought you would be attracted to an older man until you meet this outlaw biker and instantly fell head over heals. But in all honestly you never expected a relationship. You just though you would be a quick fuck for him and life would go back to normal. But thats not what happened at all. Five months into the relationship SAMCRO’s president became such a regular guest at your house he decided to leave his small apartment and the two of you were officially living together. 

So the two of you were happily in love. But you always worried about your lover. There was always a little part of your head that constantly asked if he was okay? If he was safe? His job was dangerous and unpredictable, he could be gone for weeks at a time and there was always a possibility of serious jail time. The two of you had discussed it twice. It was not a subject he liked to visit often, he assured you the club was moving in legitimate business directions but there was always a possibility of old dirt or new beef. But this struggle was felt by everyone involved with the club. Its something you learned to live with because you loved your man.

...

“Hey babe.” Lyla exclaimed as you made your way to her small desk, where she rarely spent any time. 

“Hey girl, do you have time to sign this?” you said handing her the piece of paper. “Of course” she smiled taking it and signing it. While still looking down at the paper she said “Hey whats up with all this Mayans business?” 

“Mayans business?” I asked.

“You didn't hear? Tiggy just told me that one of the prospects was shot in the foot the other day by one of Alvarez’s right hand men. Chibs had to patch him up. He didn't tell you?”

“No he didn't say anything.” There was that little part of your head again, nagging at you asking if Filip was safe. “Is it bad? Like something for us to be worried about?” You said now, trying your best to hide the worry in your voice.

“Not sure” she replied looking up at you. “Im sure if it was Chibs would have said something to you. Anyways they're boys, always having little disagreements.”

“Yeah your right, sucks for the prospect though.”

 She laughed “Yes it does”.

...

You make your way out of the studio that day. You weren't really to concerned about the information Lyla had dropped on you earlier. Like she said it was extremely common for the Sons and the Mayans to have little spats. 

By the time you got home it was around ten, and you noticed Fillips bike was missing. Oh well you figured he had a later night that expected. You got inside and made yourself a quick dinner and watered your plants, which confirmed your earlier thought. He hadn't been home at all today. Then you jumped in the shower. 

Letting the steam hug your body you stood in the shower and tried to unwind from today. Nothing to stressful had happened but it was still a long day. Then very faintly you could hear the rumble of a bike pulling into the driveway. A smile played on your lips, as you heard the front door open.

“(Y/N)?” you heard him call. 

“Shower!” you yelled back hoping so desperately he would decide to join you.

And your hoping payed off because within moments your man was stripped and stepping into the shower with you. 

“Hello love” Filip smiled as his arms snaked around you from behind. And he pressed a kiss in the crook of your neck making you shiver despite the heat in the shower. 

You turned around to face him “Hello” you smiled up at him and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I missed you today. I was hoping you would come visit me at work.” 

“Mmmm well I'm sorry ‘bout that love it was a busy day.” His nose brushed against yours. With a smirk he said “But I'm sure I could find some way to make it up to ye.” 

“And how’s that?” You asked innocently bringing your eyes up to meet his. 

“We could start like this.” He said as he kissed down your jaw to your neck. Once his lips meet your neck they licked and sucked, leaving small marks in their wake. You gasp quietly at the contact. “Does this help lass?”

“Your getting there” you smile.

His lips trail down further meeting your breasts, which makes your back arch slightly and a whimper escapes your lips. He takes a nipple in his mouth sucking lightly. “Filip” you groan. You could feel his smile as he releases your nipple and trails down your torso farther and farther knowing exactly where you needed him. 

He stops at your core and his lips ghost over your aching clit. “Please” you beg him. He places one kiss to your center. “So needy, you really must have missed me.” You whine which makes him laugh and then he goes to work. 

He licks a line up your slit and you lean back onto the shower wall. You gasp as he suddenly sucks harshly at your clit, then adds a finger to your center. You drop your head to watch him work. Lips intently sucking at you and he adds a second finger to stroke the places only he knows about perfectly. The places that make you whimper and wither under his touch. You can feel yourself nearing your climax, as he strokes your walls intensely. And suddenly he stops and stands up to meet you.”Ugghhh why Fillip??” you whine “Waters getting cold” he smiled. He knew nothing frustrated you more that when he denied your orgasm. “You better get ta the bedroom quick” he smirked at you, as he turns the water off.

You both got out of the shower and hurried to the bedroom. “Now please finish what you started.” You say as you sit down on the bed. “Happily.” Fillip says and your lips meet again for a harsh kiss. He lays you down and nudges your legs apart with his knees. Taking his time he lines himself up and enters you slowly making your mouth fall open and you eyes shut. He starts out at a slow steady pace making you even more frustrated than before. “Please Fillip” you groan gripping his arm. “Please what lass?” he asks with a cocky smile. “Please faster please” you beg, legs coming up to wrap tightly around his waist trying to take his deeper. 

He does as you ask and slams into you making your hand curl into his hair. “ Filip” you moan over and over again. He grunts above you “Ah ye feel so good shite” you can feel his thrusts becoming irregular and he reached his hand down to rub circles on your sensitive clit. That was enough to send you over the edge calling his name and withering beneath him, your orgasm ripping through you making you shake and shiver under him. He finished moments later, pushed over the edge by your reaction to the orgasm he just gave you. Calling your name he collapsed on top of you. You bring your hand back up to his head and run your fingers lovingly through his hair as he recovers. 

Moments later he rolls over then leans in to capture your lips. You both smile “Well how was your day?” you ask with a smile playing on your lips. When you both had late nights like this the sex usually come first then the talking. 

“Pretty boring, just finished up some things in Oakland. Basic stuff.” He took your hand in his and kissed it sweetly. “Whatta ‘bout yours love?”

“Paperwork as always.” For some reason what Lyla said earlier popped into your mind. “Lyla told me a prospect got hurt the other day, is he okay?” you ask. Fillips face dropped a little “Yeah ‘es okay love. Just a misunderstanding.” 

“What happened?” you asked lowly. You knew it wasn't really any of your business but Filip normally told you what was going on in the Sons world.

“You don't need to worry about it love.” He said letting go of your hand. “You should get some sleep” he said with a small smile.

“Okay” you said quietly. Prying wasn't something you liked to do when it involved the club. He leaned over kissing your forehead then wrapping his arms around you. “Night love” he whispered in your ear. “Goodnight.” You whisper back. 

Your thoughts kept you up for hours after Fillip was sleeping softly beside you. That little voice telling you there was more to the story than just a Mayan misunderstanding, more to worry about. 

[artificialqueens]

party chapter twelve - shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - here’s another pathetic apology. it’s been over a month. i am a mess and a ball of stress, and i’m very sorry. i hope you like this<3

btw, a man is mentioned in this. this man is not intended to be chad. i know who chad is. this is not chad. thank u

When Alaska woke up, the bed was empty. She could’ve lain there forever – would have if she hadn’t been alone – but her outstretched arms were grasping at nothing but cold pillows, and she wanted to be grasping at a warm body. She knew she’d fallen asleep encompassed in a warm body, one that was composed of familiar geometric shapes and sharp angles, but that body was gone now. Alaska blinked a few times and sat up, feeling groggy. She could hear voices. One sounded clear and high and female, the other low and rough and male. Part of her wanted to listen, but the other part begged her to lie back once more.

So she did, sinking back down into the pillow and closing her eyes as she listened to the voices grow louder and closer in proximity. The voices should have been instantly recognisable to her; she’d heard those two exact voices arguing and laughing many mornings when they were on tour, but fatigue made her mind foggy. All she could think about was the previous night.

Sharon had said that Alaska ‘didn’t deserve the bad publicity’ that was synonymous with her name. She’d said a lot of things, but that one stuck in her mind. It wasn’t like Alaska didn’t get bad publicity anyway, but she understood where Sharon was coming from. It was only recently that Alaska’s general public view had shifted from liked and loved to loved or hated, whereas Sharon had been a figure of strong controversy and adoration since her win, way back when. It must have been exhausting for her.

Almost absent-mindedly, Alaska reached for her phone to break the cardinal rule of reality TV superstardom. She was guilty of it, almost everyone she knew was guilty of it at some point, and even though it brought nothing but strife it was still an unshakeable urge. To know, to read, to acknowledge.

Anonymous: i know right… she used to be really sweet but then she let all the “fan favourite” fame get to her head and she’s a total snake now. I never understood why everyone loved her anyway, she was so fake on her season. And on as2 she clearly just wanted to keep detox and Roxxxy in the competition, and then she had a meltdown because she was about to be treated the way she treated everyone else. So then what does she do when everyone’s commenting snakes about her and her relevance is crashing down (because who cares about her when you could care about Katya)? She pulls out her last trick and does a show with sharon needles. Sad, really. Sad how she pretends they’re still super good friends and uses her to boost her fame and ego when she needs it. Besides the fact that sharon is a complete dick (look on reddit) it’s obvious that alaska only performs with her because it makes people excited and sharon seems to really like her… gross. Dont use another queen for your own good. Anyone else agree?

197 likes. 445 comments. 3 shares.

Honestly, that was mostly standard. Tons of people thought she was a snake for caring about her friends, and viciously defended Katya – the same Katya who would call her at midnight, giggling because a fly had landed on her baby hands and she’d managed to capture a few seconds of it on snapchat. Those were the deluded kind, and their words about being a snake or undeserving were ones she’d grown used to, and unaffected by.

Even so, the comment riled her up. She hated when fans assumed things about her life that they wouldn’t know. For one, she was friends with Katya. Secondly, how dare they assume she was just using Sharon? How dare they claim disgusting falsehoods from behind their keyboards, hidden warriors declaring that Alaska was using Sharon for her own benefit? They didn’t know that Alaska’s heart had been beating differently since they’d kissed, and how would they? They didn’t know Alaska had been falling hard for the past few months, and Sharon had fallen too, and how would they? They didn’t know that the overdose had shattered a gaping hole in her heart that bled with the worry that it would be too late for their love to survive, and how would they? How could they assume something so blatantly wrong? They knew nothing. Nothing at all.

“-irresponsible. But you already know, so I won’t keep going on. Morning, Lasky.”

Alaska sat up, forcing a smile onto her face to counteract the inevitable anger that came from reading comments about herself and the people she cared about. Michelle looked beautiful as always, her face creased with motherly concern, and Sharon’s pyjama top was undone all the way down, Alaska’s eyes instantly drawn to the sliver of exposed chest.

“I’m being lectured again about being irresponsible and taking drugs. It was an accident! But whatever.” Sharon informed her, and resumed her argument with Michelle.

The woman in question frowned. “How do you accidentally do drugs? You don’t just fall face-first into a pile of powders, Sharon.”

Sharon snorted. “No, you fall purse-first. I didn’t mean that it was an accident that I did coke. That was very much intentional.”

Even through the years of her sobriety, Alaska knew exactly what Sharon meant. It was never an accident. After so long, she still hadn’t forgotten. She never would. Memories like that just didn’t go away. It was seared into her mind forever, the way that the club lights would get brighter and the pounding of the music in her chest would spread to her head, her arms and fingertips, all through her body until she felt nothing and everything at the same time. The way she felt numb yet hyper-sensitive, seeing everything in vivid technicolour that made her ache in a painful but good way.

“She means how much she took.” Alaska said quietly. The memories flashing through her mind were scattered, frayed at the edges and missing chunks, and it made her feel sick. “It’s so stupidly easy to overdose, Michelle. You have no idea.”

Immediately, Sharon’s gaze lowered to her feet. The older queen knew exactly what Alaska was remembering, knew she was reflecting on their old club days.

“You just… you have a little and it’s fun, it feels good, it lowers your inhibitions, and then it wears off after like ten minutes. Ten minutes, that’s it. So you go get more, because you can’t feel it anymore and you want to feel it again. And then you keep doing it, because it lasts a little longer each time and you lose a little more sense every time but it still wears off. You forget that it builds up in your system and… and…”

Alaska couldn’t finish. The image of Sharon, with her dilated pupils and her quivering hands, leaning over the mattress to vomit on the carpet before falling back onto the bed, it was far too raw. Far too real. No matter what happened, no matter how she recovered or how many jokes would be made about it, that moment would never leave her. It had chilled her to the bone.

“You take too much. You overdose. You nearly die and ruin the tour and Christmas and any chance you had at redeeming your fucked-up reputation.” Sharon finished bitterly. “You worry your friends, you worry your mom, you worry anyone who bothered to care for you. It’s so easy, Michelle. It shouldn’t be, but it is.”

Michelle’s brow creased further, warmth and concern evident in her eyes. “Thank god you’re okay now. Why did you in the first place? I know you’re… partial to your illegal substances.”

Sharon bit her plumped lip and fidgeted. “Well, there is the fact that I like it, but… I don’t know. Is there ever a reason? I wanted to go out and party after stressing about the tour and arguments and all of that, and I happen to be a Ru Girl. People will give you anything when you’re a Ru Girl. Of course I said no the way a drag queen does, which sounds like ‘Sure!’ and the rest is drag. History. Her-story. Whatever. I’m alive, at least.”

Her attempt at lightening the mood, tossing in a few jokes to elicit a laugh, didn’t really work. Alaska smiled weakly, mainly out of tact, her emotions mirrored in Michelle’s face. The older woman looked as if she might tear up and hug the life out of Sharon in an instant.

“Right. Is the next rehab session soon?”

Sharon cut in before Alaska could drop a spiel that would keep Michelle happy. “Yeah, but I’m not going.”

“Oh shit,” Alaska muttered under her breath as Michelle’s face went from concerned to angered.

“Let me talk, first. Don’t look at me like that,” Sharon murmured. “I’ll go every now and then, but it’s not necessary. I know why I did it and what led me to that environment – I’m a fucking drag queen. Do I get urges? Yes, but I have Alaska by my side 24/7 to guilt me into being a good girl. I don’t need their goddamn group therapy where John the divorced father of three kids and heroin addict tells us he used to work in a bank. I can make this change on my own.”

Michelle didn’t look convinced, but she nodded. “If you think so. I’m gonna call or visit regularly, to check in. In the meantime, I know you’ve updated your social media, but I think you should speak to your friends who spent Christmas fretting about you.”

Alaska winced, knowing that the worries of their friends was one of Sharon’s biggest guilt-trippers, guaranteed to cause her mood to change. She’d already learnt how to tiptoe delicate around things that could trigger mood swings, but Michelle hadn’t been around to notice.

“Don’t fucking remind me.” Sharon grunted, but Alaska noticed that she reached for her phone from her pocket as Michelle walked out of the house. Her own phone began to buzz as Sharon typed.

-BOTS Ladies ❤-

Sharon: i’m an asshole. Sorry i ruined the tour and xmas.. cunt wait to see you all again when im allowed to be around people again

Phi Phi: jesus i thought you’d never text us

Detox: BITCH!! We were terrified!!

Courtney: don’t ever do that again, shags. I cried when i found out u were ok. Even willam bellend did

Sharon: not really planning on doing it again..

Jinkx: get better soon

Alaska: am i not a person??

Sharon: ur an alien..

Fame: are u two hanging out rn?

Katya: because what u see isn’t always a person

Jinkx: alaska are you with Sharon omg?

Jinkx: michelle told me nothing after u got out of the ER and ICU

Sharon: boo

At the same time that Sharon looked down at Alaska in the bed, Alaska shot her a sheepish smile. Her mind raced, but she really had no idea how else to relax.

Sharon vocalized Alaska’s thoughts. “You just told our friends that we’re currently in the same place, which can literally only be my home.”

Thankfully, the only undertones in her voice were ones of amusement. Sharon collapsed onto the bed next to her, a wide grin spreading onto her face as she watched Alaska try and figure out a response.

“Uh… I guess I did. Oops.” She managed.

Sharon cracked up. “You’re so stupid!” She laughed, shifting under the covers to where Alaska was still sat up. She pushed Alaska so she was also lying down and held both of her hands. “I wanna kiss your idiot face. You mind?”

Alaska chuckled, freeing her hands so she could tug Sharon closer. “My idiot face wants to be kissed.”

In an instant, Alaska completely forgot that she’d slipped up to their friends, because Sharon’s lips were connected with hers. The older queen’s teeth bit into Alaska’s bottom lip, sucking it gently as her hands roamed in her short dark curls. Her touch was soft but insistent, wantonly asking for more whilst keeping the boundaries between them. Flush against her, Sharon was cold from walking around the house, and she curled her body into Alaska’s for warmth and closeness as their tongues entered each other’s mouths. After a few seconds they pulled apart, needing air, and pressed their sweating foreheads against one another. When Alaska opened her eyes, she saw thick dark lashes and bright blue eyes watching her, the tiniest of smiles accompanying their loving gaze.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She panted, breathless. She couldn’t control the smile that made its way onto her face as she took in Sharon’s expression.

Sharon smiled wider. “Looking at you like what?”

“Like you love me.”

The blonde kissed her again, languid and luxurious, as if she had all the time in the world. A quiet gasp escaped from Alaska’s lips, but she was in too much bliss to care.

“Because I do, pumpkin. Every moment I get to kiss you is every kiss I missed out on in four years of fucking up. That’s a lot of lost time to make up for.” Sharon breathed, her gaze never once leaving Alaska’s face. Her skin was flushed red, her lips slightly swollen from kissing, her hair mussed from Alaska’s hands – in short, she’d never looked so beautiful. Alaska’s heart beat faster at the sight of her.

“Four years is a lot of time to make up for.” Alaska repeated, arching her neck as Sharon began to plant kisses along the bottom of her jaw. “Four long years.”

Sharon started concentrating on a spot just underneath the curve of her jawline, sucking at the sensitive skin there. When she was done, she kissed the red mark she’d left.

“I can handle that.” Sharon took a moment to breathe and speak, before instantly getting back to work at Alaska’s jaw and neck. Her facial hair was growing through again, the short, dark stubble, and Alaska knew Sharon had a thing for it. Back when they had been together before, although she had never admitted it out loud, Alaska always noticed the slight increase in affection – mainly kisses on her jawline – when she had facial hair.

“We should do something today.” Sharon said suddenly, nipping at Alaska’s ear.

Alaska laughed at Sharon’s imitation of what she herself used to do when they originally dated. “Like what? Isn’t the next rehab session later today?”

A hint of teasing laced Alaska’s words. She knew there was no way in hell she was going to get Sharon to go another time – at least not in the same week. Just as she expected, Sharon let out a loud whine.

“It’s Thursday! We agreed that I wasn’t gonna go today, don’t make me go back to that suicide-inducing church. They’ll make me speak to the fucking priest, I’ll burst into flames. I mean something fun! Just us.” Sharon’s plea was almost childlike, her feverish touch and hungry lips making way for wide blue eyes and a hopeful expression.

Alaska hummed, deliberately dragging her decision out. “Hmm… all I remember is you saying you’d cook if I didn’t make you go… I don’t know, Noodles.”

“Please!” Sharon begged. “Come on, I never use proper manners. Indulge me.”

“I’m gonna need some more persuasion than that. Indulge me, what? I’m missing some manners there.” Alaska taunted further.

Sharon sighed. “Can you pass me my glasses? I can’t see a goddamn thing.”

Alaska bit back a comment about Sharon’s age, choosing the path to a quiet life. Shifting over, she reached for the table where the blonde’s glasses were sat and managed to hook them onto her finger, practically flinging them at Sharon’s face. Sharon wrinkled her nose, filling Alaska with the uncontrollable urge to kiss it, and put the glasses on.

“There we are.” She said, satisfied, and pulled herself up. She positioned her hands either side of Alaska’s head, moving so her body hovered over hers. Alaska was essentially pinned into place.

“You look prettier when I’m wearing glasses.” Sharon stated, lowering herself down.

Her lips kissed Alaska’s gently, teasing her. She knew the light touch wouldn’t be enough, and Alaska would crave more as she always did. When Alaska tried to lift her head to intensify the kiss, Sharon drew back ever so slightly, so the pressure stayed tantalisingly soft. The ball was in her court.

“Are you persuaded yet?” Sharon breathed, not giving Alaska the chance to respond before resuming her unbearably gentle kiss. Alaska found herself shaking her head.

“You’re not? Okay, what about this?”

Sharon withdrew suddenly, and Alaska moaned at the loss of her warmth above her. She waited desperately for something else, something more, allowing her to get her own way and enjoy her time with Sharon.

What she received instead was entirely unexpected; a pair of strong red hands scrabbling at her sides, her stomach, under her arms, tickling her. Alaska shrieked and flailed, uncontrollable laughter escaping from her as she writhed about. Sharon knew all of her weak spots – a four year relationship had ensured that – and she abused them all, delighting in the squeals of laughter she was causing and joining in with a few joyful chuckles of her own.

“FINE! FINE! FINE! WE CAN DO S-S-SOMETHING! YOU DON’T HA-HAVE TO GO!” Alaska giggled, practically yelling the words. “FREE ME! L-LET ME GO!”

Instantly upon her surrender, Sharon laughed and leaned down again to kiss her, this time properly. Her weight on top of Alaska – lighter due to her stay in hospital – was comforting, and when they pulled apart, Alaska grinned dumbly.

“Your glasses bumped my nose.” She complained, rubbing the little red mark they’d left. “Have you got any ideas of what you want to do today?”

Sharon smiled, pushing them up with her middle finger. “Your nose bumped my glasses. I actually don’t know. We could just see if there’s anything to do and make something out of the day.”

“I like that.”

-

Appearing in public with Sharon wasn’t new to Alaska, especially not when they were in drag. Appearing with public in Sharon out of drag happened a few times, generally during BOTS or with friends, never really alone. Appearing with Sharon out of drag, in public, in Pittsburgh, with the knowledge that there was some kind of relationship-but-not-relationship happening behind the scenes? Alaska didn’t really know how to act.

The city had practically become a hive for fans of strange, weird, underground drag to flock to, or just fans of Sharon, Alaska and the Haus of Haunt. The two didn’t dare to hold hands or come across as too affectionate, because they just never knew who was going to see them. Not all drag race fans were skinny white twinks obsessing over Jeffree Starr, and all it would take was a single sneaky picture from a fan of the two acting differently to spark even more online drama. Alaska wanted to avoid as much of the drama as possible, even if Sharon had already added to it,

Thankfully, their walk down the streets of Pittsburgh had been fairly uneventful. No one really gave them a second look, not caring or not knowing who they were. Alaska knew the city had a great sense of pride for the two of them, but in the daytime they weren’t really stars. The true reverence was at night, in full paint, under the sweltering lights of a club. As two fairly ordinary looking guys, minus a little bit of Botox,  there was no point in staring. Unlike when they were in drag, there was really nothing to see.

“This feels so weird. We worked so hard to never be seen with each other.” Sharon mused. “I spent ages wanting to be with you and now it’s happened, it feels strange. Get what I mean?”

Alaska nodded. “Completely. I was just in denial, and now-”

“We’re here.” Sharon finished.

There was something symbolic about it, simply walking through the city. It was pleasant enough to walk around, enjoying the peace, but there was more to it. Every step felt like retracing an old memory – drunkenly stumbling down the road after a long show, kissing for the first time in the shelter of the bus stop when it rained, dates back when no one cared to learn their names. They’d come full circle, in a way. They were back where it had all started.

As they walked into the lesser-populated parts of the city, the amount of people thinned. The occasional group of kids skated past, but other than that, it was mostly empty. A few people walked past, but not enough for Alaska to feel too exposed. She slipped her hand into Sharon’s, smiling bashfully as Sharon gave hers a squeeze and didn’t object. For some reason, Alaska felt her heart swell. Sharon didn’t mind her showing a little bit of affection in public. Maybe things were changing.

Caught up in conversation, Alaska didn’t even notice the man walking in their direction until they collided, momentarily leaving Alaska dizzy. She opened her mouth, ready to apologise, and stopped when she saw Sharon’s expression.

The blonde looked shell-shocked, her lips parted slightly as she and the stranger stared each other down. Alaska tried to search for something familiar about him, but found nothing in his brown eyes, ruffled black hair, and lean build.

“Aaron. Good to see you.” He said, his voice expressionless.

Alaska frowned. Hardly anyone called Sharon Aaron. In fact, Alaska had only heard Michelle call her Aaron once, and that was in the hospital after just over half a decade of knowing her. Even Alaska herself usually called her Sharon. It was strange hearing her referred to as Aaron.

“You too, Mark.” Sharon replied, her voice even. Mark turned to Alaska, and Sharon quickly filled her in. “Alaska, this is Mark… my ex-fiancé. Mark, you know Alaska.”

Mark pursed his lips, his eyes cold. His gaze fell onto their entwined fingers. “I do know Alaska. You’ve reunited?”

Sharon coughed. “Let’s not do this, Mark. I really don’t want to do this.”

A sense of protectiveness welled up inside Alaska. Sharon’s voice was quiet, totally unlike herself. She seemed stripped of her confidence, something Alaska had been trying her best to preserve and build up since the overdose.

“Funny, I recognise those words from the night you told me I wasn’t good enough. He’ll get cold feet and leave you, the way he left me.”

Mark directed the last part towards Alaska, who glared at him. How dare he?

“You know it wasn’t like that.” Sharon sighed. “Things weren’t working. I was unhappy.”

Involuntarily, her grip on Alaska’s hand tightened. Alaska had had enough.

“Back the fuck up, Mark. It’s not your place to tell Sharon what makes her happy or criticise her for pursuing her own happiness. The last thing she needs right now is you stressing her out by being an asshole.” She spat.

Mark narrowed his eyes. “Oh? You care about her wellbeing? Again, funny how we broke up, you started talking again and then she took an overdose. I’m not saying it was intentional, but I’m saying that she’s always been good at lying.”

“That’s not true!” Sharon insisted, fiercely defending Alaska more than herself. “Don’t listen to him. Come on, let’s just get out of here.”

Mark scowled. “You’re good at brainwashing people, Aaron. I never knew you could do it to the same person twice. Thank god I got free from it.”

Without another word, Mark continued walking down the street, and Alaska tugged Sharon along, desperate to distract her from what had just happened. Sharon had told her back in the hotel room months ago that she’d had a fiancé she couldn’t bring herself to marry. No doubt Alaska had been mentioned, judging by Mark’s hostility towards the pair. Alaska recalled Sharon admitting that she couldn’t bring herself to say she loved him.

“Sharon?”

“Yeah?”

Alaska hesitated, but pushed on. “I love you.”

There was a long pause. Oh, shit, Alaska thought. I’ve gone and fucked it up now. This was going to be the part when Sharon couldn’t say it back, was just enjoying their hands-free, no stress thing they had going on. Perhaps Alaska had it twisted. But no, she was overreacting. Or was she? Sharon didn’t love her. But she did! She’d spent so long saying so. What if things had changed? Alaska was freaking out. The silence dragged on for what feel like hours, each second that ticked past stabbing into Alaska like a knife.

“I love you too.” Sharon responded. “I like saying that as long as I’m saying it to you.”

Alaska pulled the shorter queen into a whirlwind kiss, wrapping her arms around her and tilting her face upwards before letting her go and smiling.

“Shall we just go home? I can call a cab if you’re gonna find it hard to walk all the way back.”

Sharon brought Alaska’s hand to her lips and kissed it. “Whatever you want. I need to start thinking about you more.” Alaska’s insides felt warm, but something wasn’t right. A gust of cold wind on the back of her neck, a mosaic out of place in a beautiful picture. Everything was perfect but something just didn’t feel right. A feeling of foreboding began to encroach.

[fleurceleste]

im so sorry to hurt you like this i got the idea and it wouldnt go away ilysm and kel loves pepper so much pls dont stop being our mom for this @pepperpxtts

lokelani is scared. she should be enjoying college and partying with her friends, but instead everyone is watching the united nations and the accords. her fear is over taken by fury as she watches her father speak, listens to his desire to register those with super human abilities and technology. as though he has somehow forgotten that his own daughter is one of those people. like somehow he forgot what she had gone through and how hard she worked to keep who what she was a secret.

it was this exact thought that had led to her storming out of the common area and away from the tv. getting as far away from everyone as she could in order to call her dad and yell at him. only it took her over a day to reach him, and when she finally did he was recovering in a hospital and captain america was in some top secret prison. the world had changed.

lokelani couldn’t bring herself to visit her father, she thought of sending flowers but didn’t know if it counted as using her powers. the new laws confused her and she had no idea if she was even allowed to use her powers without ending up in jail, and she wasn’t willing to take the risk. it was another two months before she had a sit down with her father. 

the conversation started normal. she was catching up with him and was happy to see him and pepper happy together (she was happy to see happy too but that was a given). rhodey was recovering well and things were seeming to go back to normal. she thought that it meant her dad would go back to normal too. that he would understand why she was against the accords and why they scared her. instead kel was informed that if she couldn’t abide by such a serious law, couldn’t understand the dangers of what was going on, she would be cut off. that night she had called her mother sobbing and hysterical, begging for help, but there was nothing she could do. after that kel stopped talking to her parents, stopped calling and visiting.

when her degree was finished a year later, she left new york for the first time in her life. every where she went she sent her mom flowers native to the area, little clues as to where she was. she missed home more than anything but her dad thought that her name should be put on a list and monitored like she was some sort of terrorist and not his little girl. it was easy at first, to move from place to place and continue on with her life. she went to parties and reunited with people from high school and college and for a little while the pain went away.

but when news broke of captain america and other avengers being on the run an considered dangerous officially broke, the pain returned ten fold. suddenly she wasn’t just drinking and taking the occasional pill, but she was partying hard. there had been a few rough nights, where she’d mistakenly called her dad and sometimes he sounded sorry, but he never bothered to apologize. it had been over a year since then when she overdosed for the first time. her cocaine hadn’t been cocaine and she’d ended up in the hospital. her dad visited her, informing her that he hadn’t told pepper what had happened and that this time he was cutting her off for real. he reminded her of the pain she had put the family through and talked about the stress it had caused her mother -- it was the last thing kel had ever wanted.

six months after that she was doing better. kel had gotten clean and had sent her mother flowers to let her know everything was okay at the two month mark. all communications with her father had been cut off though. the only way she’d been able to survive was money she had saved over the years and by selling her car, but even that was spent by the time her treatment was completed. her phone had been shut off and kel was officially homeless with only a duffel bag to her name. not having anywhere else to go, she ventured home for the first time in just over two years. 

attempting to use her key, a few tears sprung to her eyes when she found it no longer worked. she tried to key pad by the front door as well, only to discover that the code had been changed as well. sniffling, tears sprung to her eyes and she sat down in front of the door. she could only hope that pepper returned before her dad and agreed to help her out. after a few hours of sitting by the front door, kel heard the tell tale clack of her mother’s heels and looked up from her spot on the ground. 

“hi mom,” she said softly, unable to meet her eyes. “i’m really sorry to stop by like this but i need some help and i didn’t know where else to go.”

[awesome-legendarystudentcho-blog]

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Many jobs are provided in insurance.

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Car insurance question....?

Is it possible to see how much the isurance will be before I get the insurance??? I am 18, had my license since december 07 and never had a ticket or accidents... How much average is a teen insurance from a coupe to a minivan... I know its not in the high $800, but maybe $120+. I might get a mustang or something... plus is there an insurance gap between forigen and domestic cars???""

What do you pay for car insurance? per MONTH?

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Do you have to have insurance to drive a car if you dont own one?

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How much would it cost for a 17 year old to insure a Mazda Rx 8?

Mazda RX 8 2006 1.3L i THINK its insurance group 16 but im not sure any price estimates? dont worry about telling me thats its too much money and you should get a ford ka and all that bollocks haha i simply wish to know how much it will cost when i pass my test to insure my new Mazda

Insurance or real estate test is harder?

I have my Property and Casualty License in Colorado and now I am looking into Real Estate license as well. Which test do you think is harder??

Approx. Insurance rate for 20 yo male with a 04 G35x sedan?

thinking about buying a G35x after i get back from Afghanistan, just wondering how much insurance might be""

How to find out if someone does not have no car insurance?

Somebody back intoo me at walmart parking lot they said they dont have no car insurance so i got down there name and stuff and called it in but i think the lady was lieing about have no car insurance is there any way to find out mybe by a drive tage ?

""Why is there so much hatred towards mandatory health insurance, and none towards mandatory car insurance?""

The health insurance is at least USEFUL. The car insurance is useless crap, IT should not be mandatory.""

How do you find another person's insurance carrier for an auto accident?

Recently my car was parked on the side of a street. A car pulled up behind it, and caught fire. There was extensive damage to the rear of my car. The person who owned the car was nowhere to be found, and there was no insurance information in the car. The officers on the scene provided me with the registered owners name, address and license plate number. The officer suspected the car may have been stolen, but wasn't certain (The RO of the car lived a few towns over). I do not believe I am liable for this accident. Is there any way to track down this person's insurance company for me to get covered in this incident? I don't have comprehensive coverage, so my company isn't going to cover the damage. Is the fact that the car was possibly stolen an issue? Thanks very much!""

Family of 4 looking for affordable health/medical insurance.?

I am looking for insurance for me and my 3 kids. Does anyone have any suggestions as to whom i can go to to find some that won't cost me an arm and a leg. i live in west texas so any suggestions located in this area would be much appreciated.

Should I get a new health insurance plan?

Hi there, I'm a 26 y\o male living in california. I just came off my family's kaiser health plan in April and have started paying for cobra to stay on it. As of today it's $670 a month. I know very little about buying health insurance, but I'm wondering if I can get a better deal with an individual plan. My only worry is being turned down for per-existing conditions. I have an anxiety disorder which requires medication and have had 2 eye surgeries for retinal problems. I know very little about the health insurance market other than that insurers having little compassion for the gouge they put on people. Is this a fair price? Or would it be better to look for a different insurer? Also, what is a deductible and how do they work? thanks""

Car insurance?

I am trying to get a quote for car insurance, but am a bit stuck. I got my South African licence in 2002 and exchanged it for my UK one October last year. When they ask you how long you have held your licence....do I say 5 years or less than 1 year. Does the South African one count....I really hope so. We drive on the same side of the road and everything. Thanks""

Do you have to add your new teenage driver to AAA insurance if you want them covered.?

Do you have to add your new teenage driver to AAA insurance if you want them covered.?

Insurance for buying a car?

I want to buy a used car. I was advised to get insurance before I test drive any cars. I went to a couple of insurance websites and they ask me to enter my vehicle info. How do I enter vehicle info if I don't own a vehicle yet?

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Liability insurance if car catches fire?

my car got caught on fire i think the firefighter says it say electric wiring i only have liability insurance is my insurance will cover that my car is total now ,thanks so much""

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how much does it cost??? i hav a project where i have to buy car insurance for a Mercedes Benz 2010 C300 Sport Sedan...... help.......??

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I'm 19 years old, and I am very interested into buying a 2006 Dodge Charger R/T. 5.7L V8. I'm a responsible driver with a flawless driving history and have taken (and passed) a driver's education course. The thing I'm concerned about though is the insurance for the vehicle. What makes a car (in itself) have high insurance? Is it based on the performance and power alone, or do other factors come into play such as the size and number of doors? Would a V8 Charger in particular have ridiculously high insurance compared to a more sporty car such as a V8 Mustang of the same year? Well, you probably understand what I'm trying to ask. Someone please enlighten me, thanks. I appreciate it =)""

Will my insurance cover all my mole removals?

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I hit a dog last night with my car what should i tell my insurance company now that its the next day?

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Ok, well i just got my liscense [ i`m 16 ] ... i don't have a car, so do i need auto insurance? i don't know if this is a dumb question, but people are telling me i need to be added to my mom's insurance and stuff. i`m trying to under stnad the whole car insurance thing so hopefully somebody can help.""

How much would my insurance premium rise be? Car accident.?

On the interstate going home from work, it started raining just as I entered, really hard. Then I saw this white car in front of me, who stepped on his brakes, and as soon as I saw that, I stepped on mines. I couldn't swerve to the right where the gravel and grass were cause the white car was already headed that way , since it was raining my brakes didn't help and instead my car slid and his the back left corner of the white cars, and then I hitted a gray car from behind. My car is messed up really bad and cannot be repaired. When I gained enough sense to realized what just happened, there was 5 cars that had stopped, but mines was the only one badly damaged, unrepairable. Nobody was injured, and everyone's car was still drivable. The officer basically said it was my fault, cause I couldn't stop MY car from hitting the other two. Now I have to pay a ticket of $165 and my insurance will be paying for the other car's problems.""

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I was robbed at a job and got a tooth broke in half and I admit I never took care of my teeth as well as I should have, between our new baby and our bills I can't really afford Insurance or financing. i really just need a second chance, i feel like it holds me back from getting promoted and making a good first impression and id really like a better smile all around. is there any programs or something I can sign up for? I'd prefer for it to not be at the tax payers expense but I'm not above it. I live in california if that matters, thank you""

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Family of 4 looking for affordable health/medical insurance.?

I am looking for insurance for me and my 3 kids. Does anyone have any suggestions as to whom i can go to to find some that won't cost me an arm and a leg. i live in west texas so any suggestions located in this area would be much appreciated.

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/can-i-buy-triple-auto-insurance-permit-california-jean-davis"

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : World of Sea : Part 64

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2018

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

Kurin watched her unbar the door of the cabin as she thought about it.  She said, “No, I don’t think so.  He used to be my friend.  I just wish that I understood how things went so wrong.”  She looked a mute appeal at Tanlin and added, “How could he hate me so?  I never did anything to him.”

Tanlin paused before opening the door.  She considered before answering, “Nae t’ ‘ear Silor tell t’e tale.  ‘E believes t’at ye were t’e author o’ all o’ ‘is misfortunes.  According t’ ‘im, ye were a Dragon-wicken an’ ‘eld t’e ‘ole Naral fleet in t’e palm o’ yer ‘and.”

Kurin was taken aback.  “You mean it?” she asked.  “What could put him so far onto dry land?”

Tanlin looked at Kurin with pity in her eyes.  “Oi’ve been tryin’ t’ tell ye.  ‘E’s insane w’ere ye are concerned.  ‘E believes ‘imsel’ a tragic ‘ero, persecuted for ridding t’e fleet o’ a deadly an’ unperceived menace.”

“Lady Tanlin,” came a forlorn voice from within the cabin, “I can hear you out there.  Who is with you?  Has the fleet come to their senses yet?”

Tanlin opened the cabin door, leaned in, and said, “Silor, someane ‘as come t’ speak wit’ ye.  She’ll be representin’ t’e Grandalor before a fleet tribunal.  Will ye tell ‘er t’e exact trut’ o’ yer involvement in t’e poisoning?  ‘T may ‘elp our case.”

Silor’s voice answered, calm and assured, “Of course I will talk to her but it is a waste of time.  No case will be needed.  The Witch is dead and in a short time her curses will be gone.  When people are themselves again, they will know themselves freed.”

Kurin spoke from out in the hall where Silor couldn’t see her.  “Silor, you were a good student at learning to navigate by wave and current. Do you know where we are?”

He replied with confidence, “We are in the Dragon Sea.  It was clever of Captain Barad to bring us here.  No fleet owns these waters.  We will be safe here.”

“What of the Great Sea Dragons?  If Mecat taught the witch, perhaps they will not like your having killed her,” Kurin said.

“Dragons live too long to care much about any particular human.  They won’t care one way or the other,” Silor replied airily.

“I’m afraid that you’re wrong about that, Silor,” said Kurin, stepping into his view.

“You’re dead,” he said flatly.  “Nobody can survive Ord poisoning.  Your dying is why the Grandalor had to flee in the first place.”

“No,” Kurin contradicted, “I lived.  The sailor that you duped into poisoning me is the one who died.”

Silor looked at her in dread and leaped at the conclusion that fit his delusion.  “You turned the Ord against the man who poisoned you!” he accused.

“I didn’t have to,” Kurin said quietly.  “The Corliss fleet knows how to heal Ord poisoning.  Sula carried me to her ship and Doctor Worran cured me.  The sailor that you gave the poisoned awl to wasn’t so lucky.  He got the poison through his shirt from carrying the awl in his pocket.  It got to his lungs first.  The doctor tried but she couldn’t save him.”

A wild glint entered Silor’s eyes and he shouted, “Don’t lie!  It was you!  You and that evil Dragon magic!  You killed him just like you did your father!”

Kurin recoiled as if she had been struck.  The very idea that she would have harmed her father was past simply shocking.  It was truly sickening and called to mind her mother’s accusations as she sank into madness.

Silor bunched his legs under him as he paused for breath.  “What does it take to kill you?” he screamed, lunging at Kurin, arms outstretched, hands clawed.

“More’n ye’ve got, Lad!” said Tanlin as she pounced almost into his path and grabbed his arm as he passed, spinning him headfirst into the wall.  Kimson landed on top of him and Tanlin calmly pulled her knife from concealment.  She laid its blade against Silor’s throat and added, “Mister Kimson’s goin’ t’ get off o’ ye, an’ ye’re goin’ t’ get onto yer bunk very slowly.  I’ ye try t’ ‘arm Kurin again, ye die.  Clear?”

Tears of rage and frustration in his eyes, Silor mutely nodded.  Carefully, Kimson released Silor, who slowly got to his feet and sat on his bunk.

Dully, he asked, “I heard whales, who else has she killed?”

As Kurin was about to protest, Tanlin waived her to silence and answered, “Nane.  We lost ane killed outright an’ ane mortal injured.  Yer Longin did t’ose murders an’ some ot’er injuries as well.

“Just gettin’ Kurin ‘ere ‘ad a ‘eavy price.  Macoul t’e steersman died o’ a cut t’roat an’ Lenai Halin died later o’ an abdominal wound.”

That brought a reaction of disgust from Silor.  “So, the witch got to you too?  She made you sacrifice good people just to finish her revenge on me?”

At that, Kurin would not be silent.  “Revenge?  What for?  No witchcraft is needed.  I never lifted a finger against you.  You bring yourself down!”  Bitterly, she added, “If I was a witch, I’d have just changed you so that you wouldn’t care.”

“You knew that I was here on the Grandalor!  How?”

“You were careless.  You were seen at the Gathering,” Kurin retorted angrily.  “Even the sailor that you killed told us it was you before he died.  You are under the same execute on sight order that you got put onto Barad and all the officers of this ship with your murder plot.”

That brought Silor up short.  “Barad?  He tried to stop us.  Why would the Council order him executed?”

Tanlin burst in, icily angry, “M’ too, as an officer o’ t’e Grandalor.  We’re all t’ be executed on sight because o’ ye. Our ‘ope lies in Kurin’s ‘ands an’ t’e jaws o’ t’e Dragons.  T’e Dragons ‘ave let us ‘arbor ‘ere in neutral woters but we cannae go t’rough t’em t’ escape t’e justice o’ a fleet t’at seems t’ ‘ave nane.”

Silor began to whimper and curl up.  “I tried to save you all.  I never wanted to hurt anybody. . .”  He uncurled an accusing arm, pointing at Kurin.  “If she is your hope, you are as doomed as I am. . .”  He collapsed, eyes rolled back in his head, still breathing but showing no other sign of life.

Shaking and slapping elicited no response.  Silor was gone where none could follow.

Sadly Tanlin said to a thoroughly shocked Kurin, “Oi warned ye.  ‘E wa’ so far ont’ dry land t’at not’ing could bring ‘im bock t’ safe woter.”  She looked grimly down at Silor’s still form and reached a decision.

“Oi’m proof t’at Doctor Corin can care for a person in a coma.  T’he doctor’ll care for ‘im until ‘e recovers or simply dies.” She turned to Kimson.  “Guard ‘im until men come t’ take ‘im t’ sickbay.  See t’at ‘e’s restrained after ‘e’s taken t’ere.”  

She led Kurin back to the Captain’s cabin.  Barad was out and they had the place to themselves.  Tanlin ordered food and drink for Kurin and then said, “T’at wa’ awful.  Oi wad never ‘ave guessed t’at ‘e wad just retreat like t’at.  Wat now?”

Kurin had no answer.  She simply sat and shook, crying inside but not allowing the tears to reach the surface.

Sympathetically, Tanlin sat by her and held her hand.

With a bit of scratching at the window, Thunderhead entered the cabin with a skelt in his beak.  Tanlin looked up at the big Sea Hawk and smiled.

“Ye’re right, T’under’ead.  She does need lookin’ after just now. T’anks for t’e ‘elp.”  She took the small fish and held it out to Kurin.  “‘Ere, youngster.  Take a bite so ‘e’ll know t’at ‘e’s ‘elped.  Friends ‘oo’re ‘urt need food t’ get well.  Tis all t’at ’e knows ‘ow t’ do for ye.”

“It’s raw,” Kurin said, a bit of smile beginning to show around the edges of her shock.

“T’at’s ‘ow tis best for young birds,” said Tanlin tolerantly.  “Go on, ‘e’s really tryin’ t’ ‘elp.”

Kurin took a small bite of the fish and realized that the skelt was good, even raw.  She set to nibbling around the coarse bones until most of the meat was gone, Thunderhead watching critically.  Tanlin absently scratched him under the right wing.

By the time that she was done with the fish, Kurin had a grip on herself.  The distraction provided by the somewhat comic antics of the bird and having to eat as well, helped.

There was a knock at the cabin door and Benj, the cabin-boy entered with a tray.  It had sliced, hard-boiled paddle duck eggs, red-weed bread and dried fillets of skelt for Kurin to eat.  Beside the water bottle were sweet and tart flavors.

By the time that she was done eating the simple fare, Kurin had regained her composure.  She gave Tanlin a measuring look.

“I have all the information that I am likely to get,” Kurin announced, “and I have begun to outline a multi-issue defense.  You said that you could summon the fleet Council and the Longin.  I would like to see how you do that from here.”

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

[dankrause1989-blog]

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However, we typically must play the game of life prior to hostile groups. Get to play a lot more games anytime, with simply a single software program installation. Traditional surprise birthday invitations are constructed from handmade, unique, fine art papers with matching envelopes, while customized surprise birthday celebration invitations with distinct image cards can include special messages. Apple gave a good shock finally week's Worldwide Programmer Meeting when it revealed ARKit, a collection of software program devices that assist programmers build enhanced truth experiences. This continued success is the outcome of our dedication to making the most effective, most innovative products on earth, and also it's a testament to the remarkable implementation by our groups," Tim Cook, Apple's CEO, said in a declaration revealing the business's incomes. I place it on, and I placed the kids to bed, and play some video games on my computer system (I love computer games). This is just what the company gift providers in Dubai do. In case you have any questions concerning where by in addition to the way to employ find more information, you can e-mail us on the web-page. They make sure the gifts you are trying to find are compatible with your spending plan and makes the person really feel special as individualized message or logo design is embossed after it. The vendors offer the best top quality products that can be acquired seamlessly. In honor of that moment in background-- and also before the outcomes of today's six primaries are introduced-- the Clinton campaign has actually launched a video clip that commemorates the former Secretary of State's accomplishment, positioning it as the orgasm of years of work extending back to the women's suffrage movement in the 1800s and also the women's freedom activity of the 1960s. These 3 join a group of other gamers in a market that says it is supplying a lifeline to the large number of people that have actually endured a financial misstep" and as a result are being denied by the heavyweight high street loan providers. The Dad's Day special of Surprise, Shock gets on ITV1 on 21 June at 8pm. It may be an unique present for a person or an essential service file that needs to be presented on a particular day. I have actually had to fight a great deal of my creating life between the demands to be a public celeb writer as well as locating the moment and room to do the actual work, so I'm hoping the work itself just continues as well as is no various to where it was the other day. Our target goal of $8,000 will cover the cost of our designers, visuals artist, editors, as well as the printing and also circulation of our very first version of Noodles' & Albie's Birthday Shock.