#two colleagues exiting a party normally

[animezinglife]

"Is something on your mind?" "Everything."

[razorsharpteeth]

TIMING: A few years prior. PARTIES: Samir & Pat LOCATION: Jacksonville, FL SUMMARY: The newspaper at Samir's work bears headlines of two murdered tourists. He's normal about it. CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of murder.

FLORIDA RIPPER STRIKES AGAIN: TWO TOURISTS FOUND DEAD.

JACKSONVILLE — The bodies of two honeymooners were found on the shore this morning by a local fisherman. “Looked like someone had gone to town on them. This freak’s gotta go,” he said, before going on to describe the ripped states of their bodies poking out of the sand. Local authorities have no answers yet.

Bex and Dawn were a newly married couple exploring the Keys on their honeymoon. The pair went missing the night before their planned departure a week ago and had not been seen since. Their bodies were found on the shore after winds blew the sand they’d been buried under away …

Samir shut the newspaper with force, hands clammy as he tried to neatly fold it and return it to its rightful place in the breakroom. Nausea took a hold of him as he shoved his chair back, a tremor spreading from his hands to his stomach to his lips. 

It had happened again. It had happened in the Keys, it had happened in West Palm Beach, it would happen if he went further north. What would they call him then? Would he still be the Florida Ripper when he ditched his state? Clammy hands ran through his hair, then over his face. He needed something cool, so turned to the drink machine and used a few of his last dollars to buy a can of coke.

Pressing that against his temple, he wondered for the umpteenth time if his DNA would match that of the wolf inside. He thought of the deaths that hadn’t been written off as murders, but rather as animal attacks. He wondered what was more accurate. Murder by man or animal.

The door creaked open, one of his colleagues slipping in the break room. “Alright?” Pat saluted, offering Samir a grin before seeing his slack and sweaty face. He looked like a melting wax figure, desperately pressing a cool tin can against his head. “Shit. Like, are you alright?”

A nod. “Yeah, the fuck’s telling you that I’m not?” Samir’s eyes flashed up, anxiety twisting into something more manageable. Anger was ever-present and poorly suppressed, especially in a moment of apparent weakness. He bristled. “It’s just hot out, yeah? Bitch-ass humidity. Can’t catch a break.” 

He tried not to look at the newspaper, which appeared to have not been touched. The headline was screaming at him from his periphery, but he kept his eyes trained on Pat for a moment, as if challenging him to say something. To give him an excuse to go off. What did it matter, anyway? He’d have to get out of town soon enough, find another place to do the same shitty work. Soon enough, he’d never see Pat or think of him again.

The other just held up his hands. “Relax, man.” Samir watched him sit down at the round table, fingers reaching for the paper. His stomach lurched. A drop of sweat ran down his back and he found himself straightening, fingers pressing in the can but not strong enough to do any damage. The monster inside would break it.

“Well, hey, gotta go. Break’s over. See you ‘round.” Exiting the breakroom before Pat could comment on Florida’s own local serial killer, Samir found himself outside in the humid, blaring sun. Steps were taken with haste, though none of it alleviated the tension that made his chest grow tighter, tighter, tighter. Not even throwing the can against a wall and watching it explode was enough to leash the rage inside.

[willsherjohnkhan]

Rogue Male: A Sherlolly Story

***

Chapter 5: Possible Options

***

ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF DEVON

Sherlock sat up straight startled by a noise, before relaxing slightly at the realisation it was the early morning calls from birds high up in the scattering of trees where he had pitched his tent.

Groggily he got to his feet, and blearily inspected the tents interior. Once his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he was able to confirm with his eyes what his nose had already informed him, his meagre food-store had been raided during the night by a cleverly industrious and mischievous fox, that had dug a hole on the outside of the tent, before using it to squeeze itself under the admittedly flimsy material in order to enter and exit

And given the pungent scent of the foxes urine that now reeked throughout the little tent, was proof that at some point during the night Sherlock had managed to fall into a deep sleep.

A quick search of what remained revealed that the small tin of coffee had been left unopened. Clearly foxes weren’t fond of a good hot cuppa.

Grabbing the much needed stimulant, Sherlock headed outside, grabbed his little billycan and wandered over to the nearby stream and filled it with clear fresh water.

As he sat by the fire he had built and waited for the water to boil, his mind began to wander.

*

Sherlock had always preferred his solitude. It offered him the serenity and peace from the noise of the world. His Mind Palace was also a refuge, a place where he keep essential facts and information that could prove invaluable in solving a current or potential new case.

But over the last few years his little world had expanded to include people that he would describe as acquaintances, colleagues, and even in a very few cases, friends. As such, his Mind Palace added a new feature – memories, many that related to Molly Hooper.

Molly Hooper, the woman that as soon as he realised she was attracted to him, had mercilessly used that attraction as a means of obtaining information and lab use at Barts for cases he was working on, or getting access to body parts so he could perform experiments on at Baker Street. All the while not giving any consideration to the fact that she could have lost her job for some of the things he had asked of her. He gave no thought to her feelings once she became aware that she was being strung along. And he most definitely never gave any thought to the potential danger her expanding assistance could place her in.

As happened, when he’d all but thrown her right into the path of James Moriarty.

And even then, in an attempt to cover his own guilt, he had glibly informed her, “For the sake of law and order, I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship, Molly.”

His claim was totally unfair, even cruel, and all because he needed her assistance in the kidnapping case of two children.

But remarkably, as she had done at the Christmas party, she was able to turn the tables on him, with her insights, proving herself once again to be more than a mere tool in his success, but an invaluable confident, and friend.

It would be so easy for him to say that Molly did what she did of her own free will. But that did not diminish the fact that he should have paid more attention to her safety. Lestrade and Donovan were Police Officers, John was a former soldier, and Mycroft’s position gave him access the means to protect himself.

What did Molly have?

He’d dismissed her as irrelevant, and had left her completely vulnerable.

She trusted him, and he had let her down.

*

Shaking himself free from his thoughts, Sherlock quickly made and drank his coffee, before getting to his feet. It was time to put his plan into action.

***

THE DARTMOOR WAY

The choice of Dartmoor was a simple one. It was the most recent and therefore fresh in the mind of the public, case that John had published on his blog before Sherlock’s spectacular fall from grace.

Sherlock knew he could have easily drawn this pursuit out for longer, and under normal circumstances hr would have enjoyed stringing his pursuer along, but not this time.

As he had made his way from London to Dartmoor he had gone through everything he knew about James Moriarty, and remarkably it became increasingly self evident8 that, although Moriarty claimed to be the head of a vast criminal organisation, and there was no doubt that he had the ability, brains and contacts to do so, he actually wasn’t.

This was proved during his time of enforced incarceration. For it had shown a whole new light on the situation, Moriarty may have believed himself to be in charge, but it was clear that someone else had been the one pulling the strings.

The question was who.

To get that answer he had lured his pursuer, or pursuers, for he had a strong sense of being followed by more than one individual, to where the ‘Hounds of Baskerville’ had taken place.

The decision to use the Dartmoor Way was a logical one. It was a long-distance footpath that encompassed both upland and moorland and it also passed through a number of towns and villages, including Grimpen.

As Sherlock meandered along he considered the options for the best place to hold the final confrontation. Grimpen Village was out, he didn’t want any innocent villagers getting caught up in this situation. For that same reason he couldn’t involve Henry Knight. The Baskerville Army Facilities wouldn’t be pleased to see him. Though he had to admit the Grimpen Minefield would have been an interesting, if highly dangerous proposition. Equally hazardous was The Great Grimpen Mire, a peat bog covered by moss that was incredibly unstable, constantly moving beneath the feet of anyone foolhardy enough to try and cross it. For legend told that one false step and the moss would give way and the mire would pull the unlucky human or animal into the cold, murky depths, never to be seen again.

Sherlock had never been a strong believer in myths or legends, but he did believe being in a position of strength. And so to that end he left the footpath and made his way to his chosen location – Dewer’s Hollow.

***

[littlemisslipbalm]

“Harry’s stylist, right?”

Summary: Harry and his personal stylist are great collaborators, on screen and off. She helps his visions come to life and in turn they’ve become close friends. As she helps him to bring his fashion dreams come to life during the Fine Line era, will some other dreams come to life as well?

or

Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump

this fit is very important to this part lmaooo - I literally have no idea what to call this lol, anyway I've been sitting on this for forever and I wanted to get something out for yall and i love this story there will be a part 2 when i get to a writing mood. I love this story bc its my literal dream - anyway!! pls enjoy and reblog and lmk what you think :)

Word Count: 14k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, tame for now, should be smut eventually - aka slow burn (what else would you expect from me at this point i guess)

part 2

-

“Hey, H, I just had a question about one of the SNL outfits? Do you have a sec?”

Harry looked up from his phone and raised his brows at his stylist, Y/N.

Y/N had worked with Harry previously. In photoshoots for Another Man magazine and his most recent Gucci campaign. As well as some other random times, such as one-off award show looks and specific appearances. However, this past summer Harry had hired Y/N to work fulltime for him, exclusively. He had told her that he was planning on releasing his second album in the winter and he wanted someone there to help him plan his clothes for music videos, award season, interview appearances, as well as tour outfits.

Y/N stood just inside the doorway of the room, leaning her back against the wall, looking expectantly at him. Her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed. She was dressed simply in a white satin skirt and a matching cropped button-up, they both had cream flowers embroidered on, paired with horsebit slim Gucci mules. Her style was eclectic, but she had definitely noticed an increase of Gucci in her wardrobe since starting her employment with Harry.

Y/N’s passion in life was fashion and clothes and she constantly worried that one of Harry’s outfits wouldn’t deliver as much as she wanted it to. He was quick to tell her not to worry so much though, as long as they both were happy with it, how could anyone else not love it. Plus, he’d always add, it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought. But as more and more events began to crop up, Y/N’s worry over her work grew. She had only been the head stylist for Harry on projects that were still underwraps - except for Lights Up which had been released a couple weeks ago now.

The first project she ever worked on with Harry as his full-time personal stylist was the Lights Up music video. She had never worked so closely with one person for so long on just one project. Harry was insistent in vision and came in the first day filled with ideas, what he imagined for the video's concept and how he wanted to incorporate clothes. She had been happy to make his dreams become reality.

The two of them spent hours at his house for weeks, pouring over every detail of every outfit he planned to wear. They both wanted it to be perfect. And eventually, it all came together, exactly how they had planned. All of the garments for the video took up two entire garment racks. Y/N had made Harry pose in every single outfit for polaroids that she dated and then put into a lookbook she started for him. She had told him she planned to document every outfit she styled for him and Harry had been so excited. The outfits he wore in the video were received with praise when it was finally released, and Harry and Y/N were overjoyed. There was already a party for its release, but they both were especially happy that night. Throughout the evening, Harry and Y/N would gravitate to one another and fall into side conversations about the outfits and what people had been saying. Even if Harry said it didn’t matter, he and Y/N both knew, at the end of the day, they loved when people were happy with their work.  

“Sure,” he bounced to his feet, but Y/N made a hand motion telling him that he could stay seated. He settled back down as she crossed over and sat beside him on his couch.

She was at his house in London today planning his next few appearances that were promotion for the upcoming album, Saturday Night Live was next. Harry had been taking a break from their work until she had come in.

It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to be at his house, they had been working together for months now. First, it had been for his outfits in his music videos that were filmed in late summer and early fall, like Lights up, but also a few other ones. Now, it was clothing for promo appearances, interviews, and listening parties. Next, it would be tour outfits, which she had already started planning, but officially, they hadn’t started discussions yet. Harry had helped her to get a flat closer to his house in London just for her to be able to head over and help with the planning or fitting of his outfits more easily. She also was constantly traveling with him to his appearances, making sure outfits were perfect right before whatever show it was or making last minute adjustments in case either of them decided something wasn’t right.

While Harry was a big guy, his waist was far trimmer than a usual man built to his size, this meant she had to take in a lot of his trousers at the waist. As well, with his shirts and coats, she’d have to take them in or out depending on how Harry wanted the fit to be - either perfectly tight or perfectly oversized. He was particular, but she appreciated his drive for fashion and how he cared for his appearance. Before performances, she often had to take things in or out based on any body fluctuation that had occurred since the initial fitting.

She was looking at her sketchpad that held all of her notes on his clothes - which was different from the lookbook of polaroids - including patches of the actual colors and little Harry figures dressed in what he was going to wear. Right now, she had the pad opened to a page titled “SNL Opener - November 16, 2019”.

“So I was thinking with your opening monologue outfit, it might look better to have a different colored blazer? A matching yellow would be great, but if you did more of a toned down - maybe light tan or beige - blazer with gold embellishments, you’d elevate it to look sophisticated and stylish, rather than just stylish. It’d be exactly like the runway look - which I know you sometimes don’t like, but I think it’s what looks best.”

She ran her finger between two swatches of what she thought would be the better blazer color and the one Harry had originally wanted. He wet his lips and gazed at the page as he thought about what she said. Normally, she liked monochrome on him, but she thought the deep blue underneath a completely yellow suit might wash him out on the stage.

“Yeah,” he pointed to the top beige swatch, “I think I do like this better.” He paused and turned his head to Y/N, looking in her eyes before asking, “Is that all?”

“Er...no,” Y/N ran a hand over her unstyled hair, slightly fluffed by her constant musing of it. She often fiddled with it while she worked, better than biting nails she always said when confronted about her tick. After a sigh Y/N continued, “I was just on the phone with Jane from Gucci and she said that for Look 57 they could only send your technical size, for some reason they can’t custom make it. Meaning, I’ll have to tailor the whole thing to you when it arrives. Is that alright? Or do you want to choose something else?”

She flipped to a page that said “SNL WS.” Harry followed her hands and nodded realizing she was talking about the Gucci suit he wanted to wear for Watermelon Sugar. It was a watermelon’s inside red. When he had found out the suit came in that color, he had danced around the dining table for what Y/N had felt like was an hour, humming the tune of Watermelon Sugar excitedly. Finally, she had coaxed him to sit back down and get back to their other work, which was still picking out clothes.

“No, that’s fine,” Harry shook his head and used his thumb to scratch under his lips absentmindedly, “It really needs to be that color.”

She nodded, she knew what his answer was going to be, but she also knew he still liked to make the final decision.

“Alright, we’ll just have to meet for longer when everything arrives, to tailor that one. Then the rest of them should just be making sure the fit is perfect.”

She rose up from her seat and patted Harry’s shoulder, leaving him to his thoughts, as she went back to finish up the calls with Jane and the designers.

He caught her hand in his before she completely walked away, “Thank you, Y/N.” He was so grateful he had hired someone who was as driven as he was and understood his fashion sense and wanted to help enhance what he was thinking, rather than someone trying to control him or just going along with whatever he said. Neither would be productive or helpful, thankfully Y/N loved her job and cared to do things right.

She grinned before exiting, “H, you’re going to be this century’s style icon if it’s the last thing I do.” He laughed as she walked out of the room, leaning back on the couch to continue his lurking on Instagram.

-

One week later

“I’m here, H! I come bearing Gucci and more!” Y/N said as she shuffled through Harry’s front door, she held a deconstructed rack and a garment bag filled with heavy suits and things. Inside were Harry’s four most important outfits for SNL, some other garments for SNL, and some clothes they had talked about for his upcoming listening sessions later in the month. Y/N needed to check the fit on all of them and begin tailoring the Watermelon Sugar suit. The key Harry had given to Y/N, previously, had let her in, but she assumed he was home. He said he’d be.

When Y/N rounded the corner she found another empty room. Confused, she set down her large items and went to search for Harry. Y/N literally needed him to be here for this part. It was the only real time she actually needed to see him in person - but that was beside the point.

“H?”

She wandered through the different rooms of his home. Normally, Y/N didn’t go into the other rooms, she was always mainly in his lounge area, the dining room, and a little casual office room he had - sometimes the kitchen for water, his bedroom once. Still not finding him, she decided to venture to the furthest door, Harry’s bedroom, she remembered.

Harry groaned at the sound of a knock on his door, he rolled over in his bed. After a few moments of hearing nothing else than his groan, Y/N felt like she had to go in and check on him.

“H, it’s 12:30 and we agreed we’d meet at noon. Are you feeling alright?”

Y/N moved into the room and found a shirtless Harry surrounded by rumpled sheets, clutching at a pillow. He groaned into his pillow again in response. Her legs bent at the edge of the bed and she reached out to smooth some of his chestnut hair out of his face, “What’s wrong?”

He moved his head to allow his eyes to look at her, “‘M so tired, don’t know why. My stomach kind of hurts too…” Y/N looked at him quizzically, before running her hand over his tan forehead once more, this time checking for a fever. “You don’t have a fever. When did you go to sleep? Have you eaten anything today?” With her help, Harry moved into a seated position, head tilted back against the bedpost. He sat silent for a moment before blowing air out of his mouth. “Went to sleep kind of late for me, I guess...Haven’t eaten.”

“Ok, you’re just tired from staying up late, you old man, and you might be a little dehydrated and hungry. Listen, I’ll go make you some food if you get up and prepare yourself for the day. We need to get all your clothes fitted so that I can fix anything before next week.” Y/N was always good at getting Harry back on track when he got distracted - or even out of the station, when he wasn’t in the mood to work on something. She slid from her perch on the bed and walked to almost the edge of the room before Harry called her back.

“Can you pick out my clothes for me?” His soft, tired voice whined. “So hard...and you’ve got the best eye. Pleaseeee,” he pleaded softly.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N sighed and made her way back into his room. Crossing to the door that led to his walk-in closet, she set to work. As silly as he was being, she could never pass up on a chance to pick out an outfit for Harry.

“You’re literally going to be changing the entire time, H, you could have just thrown on sweats,” she called back to him once inside the smaller room. He repeated how she always picked the right thing, even for just around the house. Again, Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry, but she also couldn’t hide the warm smile on her face that was due to his compliment.

She couldn’t believe how dramatic Harry could be sometimes. Right now, he was a lesser form of hungover and he was acting like his life was ending. Y/N had made a note a while ago to never agree to a meeting on the day after any partying. She learned the hard way one particularly terrible Sunday. She had come round his house at a similar time, noon-ish and found Harry dead asleep, backwards in his bed. When she had roused him, his only responses were grumbles and groans. She had to not only pick out his clothes, but also help dress him. Then, after providing water and aspirin, she moved all their work into his bedroom so they could work from there. Harry had proved to be a baby when it came to hangovers.  But, she hadn’t realized he could get like this even without being truly hungover.

After settling on his live aid t-shirt, that Y/N was eternally jealous of, located at the front of his drawer and his favorite corduroy trousers, she walked out and threw them in the direction of his toned, but slumped body. “I will not get you boxers, that is most definitely not in my job description, Boss.” Y/N sent a pointed look in his direction, moving to finally leave the room. While he was technically her boss as her employer, their work relationship was extremely collaborative and it never felt like he was in control of her, she just liked to give him shit for being a drama queen.

“Guess I’ll be going commando. How’s that going to work with me changing in front of you a bunch of times?” He teased right back, taking the clothes you had thrown at him and giving them a onceover. His teasing signalled that he was already feeling better.

Y/N shook her head and walked out of the room, “For the love of God, Harry, please put on underwear before you come out and continuously strip in front of me!”

The words he shouted after that were muffled, but they were something along the lines of how the human body is beautiful and shouldn’t be covered up. Unbelievable. As she set to work on making both of them some lunch, she finally heard Harry begin moving around. They had a lot of work to do as it was and whenever Harry was in a mood, whether it be a good mood or a bad mood, they always seemed to have a hard time focusing.

One night, that could be seen as the poster child for Harry and Y/N’s procrastination, was during the planning for the Adore You music video. Harry was in a super good mood that day and he had brought that energy to their meeting at his house. Y/N was supposed to be fitting him for the various outfits, but Harry, in his mania, ordered an overzealous amount of Chinese food. It took her and Harry hours to even make a dent in the food. And while they passed the time with eating, Harry and Y/N got further and further from their tasks, opting for conversations that included more fun topics than work. They had gossipped about some of the other people they worked with, Harry had begged for “the tea” about some of his other staffers and Y/N was happy to oblige. As much as Y/N would hate to admit it, she loved when they got off of work subjects and talked about how their day’s had been and what has been on their nerves lately. It was a nice way to decompress, it was like hanging out with a friend, except it wasn’t, not really.

Harry shuffled into the kitchen wearing what Y/N had picked out for him. Her smile grew knowing that he hadn’t changed what she’d picked. His confidence in her and her abilities never failed to feel like the biggest compliment.

“Go sit at the dining table, I’ve made us some little sandwiches and then we can decide the order we want to go through the outfits in.”

Before following Y/N’s orders, Harry continued his shuffling around, first to the cabinet for a glass, then to the fridge for water. At the end of the table, she set the plates between the head of the table’s spot and the one to its left. Harry took the side spot, so Y/N was on the end. After a bite of his food, Harry moaned loudly in contentment. This caused an amused look on Y/N’s face, there had been nothing special in his house so she had just made what was possible. This meant that Harry’s satisfaction was a little over the top.

“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in a week. What did you do last night that got you in such a twist?” Y/N asked as she took a sip of her own glass of water. Harry nibbled at his lower lip after swallowing, trying to understand why he was particularly tired today.

“I guess I forgot to eat properly yesterday and then I went out running. And I stayed up late on the phone with,” he paused, eyes flashing to Y/N and then away again, “someone for SNL.”

Y/N hummed at his words before going back to her own eating. She didn’t understand why he hesitated about telling her he’d been on the phone last night, it especially irked her that he wouldn’t even say with whom. Professionally, it wasn’t really her business, but Harry was never secretive with her. Plus, it seemed to be work related so why was he being so flighty about it.

Moving forward, Harry peppier from eating and simply moving around, the pair set to work. They decided on trying on everything else first and then saving the Watermelon Sugar suit to the end. The other three main pieces for the night fit perfectly, Y/N had to only do minor reworks of certain areas.

“H, I need you to hold still…” Y/N interrupted Harry’s ramblings as she was crouched beside him.

She had to take up the hem on the pant legs so right now she was trying to pin them in the place she and Harry had agreed upon, without messing with the pleats.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, straightening out his back to stand taller.

He stayed quiet for a bit until Y/N popped back up, she looked at her notebook for reference on what she still had to tailor.

“Okay, next, the pants crotch is looking pretty fitted, so I assume you want it taken down a bit,” Y/N said as she got back into her crouching position. “Look in the mirror and tell me where you think letting it out looks best, I don’t have the best vantage point when I’m up this close…” she trailed off, placing her measuring tape directly on top of Harry’s crotch and running it down his leg a ways.

Once done with her first attempt at where she thought was best to let the pants out, she turned her eyes to the mirror that showed Harry in his suit with Y/N on her knees before him. Harry cleared his throat as he looked in the mirror, seeing Y/N with her eyes wide in anticipation in the position she was in made him want to run and hide. Her hands were extremely close to his dick, but it was literally her job, he knew he had to shake the thoughts that were running through his mind.

“Maybe just a bit further up actually, as much as I like the high waist with dropped crotch, I want this suit to have that specifically tailored look,” his hands motioned for Y/N to bring the drop up a ways.

Her hands then brought the measuring tape up, once again grazing over his area. Again, Y/N looked at Harry through the mirror for approval, and this time he gave it and she placed a single pin in the place where the pants would be let out to.

Standing up, Y/N hoped Harry didn’t notice the blush gracing her face. She was a stylist and used to being around naked bodies as well as touching around a man’s crotch when working. But Harry in this suit must have been magic, because she had felt extremely vulnerable on her knees in front of him in it. She had felt flushed the minute he hadn’t liked what she had done initially and she hated that she felt that way for some reason. Beginning to work on the sleeves of the suit set her at ease, Y/N was thankful to no longer be kneeling or in such close proximity to what was under Harry’s pants.

“Anything on your mind of late?” Harry broke the silence.

Y/N hummed with a pin stuck between her lips, folding up the suit jacket’s right sleeve. Plucking it from her mouth after a few silent moments, she said, “Not really, haven’t had time to do much else lately. Always thinking about you,” Y/N flushed as she realized what she had just said. “I mean, thinking about you like about your clothes and when they’re going to arrive and what I need to do about them, not you personally, sorry that came out wrong,” her blush intensified as she rapidly fumbled through her last sentence.

“Ow!”

“Oh my god!”

While Y/N had gotten flustered with her words, she managed to stick the pin she was using straight into Harry’s flesh. She immediately removed the pin from where it had stuck him.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, H, we’ve got to get this off. I need to make sure you’re not bleeding onto the suit.”

Y/N rushed around to Harry's backside and began slipping off his suit jacket as Harry chuckled and began to unbutton the shirt as carefully as possible.

“‘S alright, Y/N, if there’s any blood on the shirt it’ll blend in, blood is practically the same color.” She glared at him through the mirror and Harry continued to laugh, “That is not funny, H, I shouldn’t have stuck you in the first place.”

“No, no,” Harry hushed Y/N as she began to slip off his shirt from one side to the other, taking off the sleeve on the side she hadn’t poked, “you’ve got so much on your plate with all the planning for the upcoming events. Then you worked yourself up over a little slip.” As Y/N carefully unbuttoned the cuff of the sleeve to try and slip off the shirt with the least amount of blood on it as possible, Harry finished with, “I wouldn’t mind if you were just thinking about me, though, an’ not the clothes.”

This time, Y/N was very in control, not willing to let herself slip up a second time today. She didn’t know how to respond to what Harry had just admitted. It wasn’t like this hasn't happened before. Both of them were guilty of making little comments that made it sound like they were interested in each other in a way that was a little different than professional or friendly. But every time the other person always had the responsibility to shut the idea down or completely blow past what their counter had just said.

“Harry…” She began, it was soft and pleading, like she was saying she couldn’t entertain that idea. Examining his forearm, after pulling the shirt completely away and resting it on a nearby chair, she saw a little spot of blood protruding from the pin prick she had caused. “Where do you keep your bandages?” Y/N decided that it was best to brush past Harry’s words this time and went off to find his first aid kit. Harry stood there, shirtless, staring at the blood on his arm. It really wasn’t a lot and it wouldn’t have done anything to the suit, but Y/N was always so careful and never wanted to ruin any of Harry’s clothes.

On her return, Y/N came upon a shirtless Harry perched on the edge of the table, with one arm crossed and his other - that was bleeding - being held slightly away from his body, as if Harry was afraid to touch it. His posture was slumped so Y/N could see his spine curving beneath his tanned honey-soft skin and his shoulder blades slightly flexed. While most of Harry’s body was covered in tattoos, she noticed how the closest tattoo to his back was the small line drawing of a guitar on the back of his left shoulder. Other than that his smooth back was bare. Y/N found it interesting that Harry had never chosen to ink his back. She jogged lightly back into the room and Harry’s head turned to watch her approach. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he regarded her. She noticed he was being particularly quiet, but she had no idea why. Maybe he was still tired.

Y/N set to work on finding the correct tissue, neosporin, and bandage for Harry’s small wound. As she worked on fixing up her mistake, Harry’s eyes followed her movements. Green eyes flickering between her hands on his arm and her own eyes focusing on her task.

“After this, I actually can just head home and finish the rest of the work,” Y/N said as she unpackaged the bandage, “I already know where I need to take in the suit sleeves and the shirt’s sleeves were looking fine. So, I can get out of your hair and you can get to sleep early tonight.” She placed the nude toned bandage over Harry’s arm, she was a little sad to find he didn’t own fun bandages. That was something that she expected from Harry, but she resigned that maybe she didn’t know everything about Harry.

Before Harry could speak, Y/N continued, “Don’t rehearsals for the show start tomorrow? When are you flying to New York?” She ran her hand over the bandage, smoothing it in place. Her hand lingered there as her eyes looked up and met Harry’s. Harry twitched his arm away from Y/N’s touch and scratched his nose slightly.

“Yeah, I’m flying out tomorrow morning. When are you set to fly out?”

“Friday. I’ll get in before the final dress rehearsal and then I’ll be there for the show.” Y/N stepped back and began to rehang the suit jacket and shirt that they had discarded in her haste to not get blood on them.

Then Y/N stood there staring at Harry. He looked at her slightly confused by her doing nothing when she said she was leaving. “Pants, H.” She said finally when she realized he had forgotten he was still wearing the suit pants. “Oh! Sorry,” Harry exclaimed as he began to unbutton and remove the pants he was wearing. He handed her the pants and she exchanged them with his live-aid t shirt. He took it graciously before slipping it on and disguising his toned body beneath it. Then he took his pants from earlier and fully redressed himself.

“Damn!” Y/N said and Harry’s head flipped to watch her as she began to put all of the clothing back in their garment bags and take down the rack.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just pinched myself with the rack, I’m all left feet today.”

“Here,” Harry chuckled as he walked over to help Y/N, “let me help you with all this. Just in the boot of your car, yeah?” Y/N nodded and smiled in appreciation for Harry. He grabbed her keys laying on the table and then took the rack and a garment bag. Even if things sometimes got tense between them, for whatever reason, he was always quick to move past it and be thoughtful and kind in the best ways for Y/N. After shaking her hand out, she grabbed the last garment bags and followed Harry out to her car. Harry shut the back of her car softly and turned to face Y/N, she stood beside her car door, ever so slightly leaning against it. He walked to her side and smiled.

“I’ll see you in a week,” he said before wrapping his arms around Y/N’s much smaller frame. His body was radiating heat and it felt good against Y/N in the crisp night air of London. She pressed into his hold and wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him hard. “Less than...Can’t wait to see you make an absolute fool of yourself out there.” Harry protested her tease with a small, “Hey!” but mostly focused on his hands on her back and the way her hair felt especially soft under his chin. Finally, Y/N pulled away, “Kidding! You’ll be amazing and you’ll look killer while doing it.” She winked before opening her car door and driving off. Harry was left with the lingering scent of her perfume and shampoo mingling in his nose.

-

It was the Saturday night, November 16th, 2019.

Harry and Y/N were in his dressing room before the show started. His outfits for the night were lined up, except for his opener one that Y/N had just dressed him in. His first change would be for Light’s Up, then a couple skit outfits that had to be moved elsewhere for quick changes, then the Watermelon Sugar suit, and then finally his end of the show casual look. The opener looked incredible, it’s fit was impeccable and Y/N knew people were going to love it.

She stepped back from Harry to give his whole body a once over, the SNL hairstylist had just blown out his hair and given him a sort of middle part. It definitely looked good and paired with the suit - Y/N could already tell it was going to be a hit by all accounts. Harry grinned back at her, doing a little dance to show just how much he was loving his clothes and how excited he was.

Grabbing the lint roller, Y/N gave the lapels of his suit jacket a once over and then moved it slightly out of the way to roll the big collar of Harry’s shirt and the bits of the body of the shirt that were showing underneath the jacket. Basically, Y/N was lint rolling over Harry’s clothed abs. Apparently, that was a ticklish area for Harry because he began to squirm and giggle under the tool’s touch.

“Seriously, H?”

She smiled as she said it, so excited for Harry that she couldn’t be mad at his relestness.

“Can’t help it. ‘M so giddy. Plus, I’m a wee bit ticklish.”

Y/N gave him a single laugh before removing the lint roller and smoothing over the shirt against his stomach and then over the lapels when she put the jacket back in place. She adjusted the Gucci reader’s she was wearing today, that were more for decoration than anything, but she liked to pretend they made her see better.

“You look smashing, Mr. Styles. Absolutely gorgeous, if I do say so myself.”

“Are you talking to me or the suit?” Harry asked as he flipped to look in the full length mirror in the dressing room.

“Can’t it be both?”

“Sure,” Harry said, he noticed the clock and realized it was his time to get in places. He leaned down and placed a small kiss on Y/N’s cheek, “It’s my time, thank you, Y/N.” She blushed at his words and actions. As he walked out the door, she called after him, “Break a leg, H!” He sent a final air kiss in her direction before completely disappearing.

She looked at the clothes hanging on the rack in the room and palmed over the fabric. Checking the lapels and brushing the lint roller over the, she finally stepped back and was happy with how they looked. When the show was just about to start, she flitted to the part of backstage where she could watch Harry perform. She giggled along to his monologue and grinned whole-heartedly when the crowd would roar with approval. Y/N had heard all of the jokes already because of the dress rehearsal yesterday, but it didn’t matter. Harry was killing it. She also took time to appreciate how good Harry looked in his suit on stage. In front of the lights and all the people, his suit shined brightly with the pops of blue and yellow and the oversized grey-iege jacket. His soft chestnut hair billowed perfectly to frame his forehead as he sipped from the faux martini. Y/N bit her lip to stifle her laugh. The fact that Harry, her boss and friend, was up on the Saturday Night Live stage with pink and blue nails sipping from a faux martini, it was perfect.

When Harry came back for his first performance change Y/N was right there waiting for him.

“Hi, that was really good,” she smiled up at him as he began to take off his coat.

He smiled brightly back at her as he exhaled a hefty breath, “You think so?”

“Yes! C’mon, everyone loved it. You delivered it all perfectly…” she took over undoing the buttons on the shirt because Harry was moving too slowly. “I’m in a man band now…” Y/N mumbled under her breath before chuckling.

“Did you just imitate my accent?” Harry said, now pulling off his sleeves.

Y/N moved around his back to take the shirt to hang and grab his Lights Up outfit. They worked like a well-oiled machine together, constantly taking over roles to get things done more efficiently, but never stepping on each other’s toes.

“Nope,” she winked before handing him the black sequin jumpsuit and exchanging it for his yellow pants. After rehanging the pants and bringing over Harry’s different set of boots, Y/N said, “Y’know, I’d have to say that your hair is giving your suit a run for its money.” She placed the shoes on the table beside Harry and began to fix into the place different parts of the jumpsuit, moving to zip up the back and then coming to the front to smooth it.

“What do you mean?” Harry looked in the mirror and delicately touched the edges of his hair, considering Y/N’s statement.

“No one ever really sees it how it is, nicely blown out but not too much product so it falls to frame your face. What’d you tell the hair person you wanted?” Y/N stepped back to allow Harry to change his boots from one Gucci pair to another, like he did with most of his wardrobe.

“Just told them to make me look mature. You think it looks good?” He looked up at Y/N when he asked the question.

“Think it looks sexy, that’s what I’m saying, no one’s gonna be able to focus on your clothes with how good your hair looks.”

“Ah,” he deftly runs his hands down his suit as he looks in the mirror.

Y/N just stares at Harry, checking him over one more time. She wasn’t lying about his hair, it was sexy and she wanted to run her hands through it to feel how soft it was. In a complete friend way of course.

“I like it…”

“It looks like you just rolled out of bed, but the bed was made of angel feathers.”

Harry laughed at Y/N’s description. He shifted his body to face her more and moved closer to her in the process.

“Alright, you should probably get back out there,” Y/N closes the gap between them and adjusts the chain of his jade and silver crosses and brushes over his broad shoulders.

They’re professional touches, but her movements hold an undercurrent of intimacy that neither of them realize. If anyone had been looking on, they would see how Y/N’s fingers delicately caressed Harry’s skin right before she cradled the pendants to move them in place. They would also see Harry instinctively lean forward into her touch and breathe slightly deeper to take in her scent. When she brushes over his shoulders, he straightens up at the touch and shows he’s ready to get back out there. It’s as if she prepared him to go.

Harry sings Lights Up and the crowd loves it. Sarah kills her drumming and Mitch eats up lead guitar. The backup singers bring out a different tone to the song. It is all around an amazing performance.

As Y/N clapped along with the crowd from backstage, Aidy Bryant approaches her.

“You’re Harry’s stylist, right?”

Y/N turns her head at the woman next to her, “Yeah?”

Aidy smiles, eyes slightly gleaming, “Well, you’re wonderful at your job.” As Y/N is about to thank her, Aidy continues, “And Harry knows that too, he talked about you all week. We all thought you were his girlfriend at first.”

Y/N laughed lightly and had to keep herself from letting her jaw drop at Aidy’s words. She even choked a bit on her own spit and had to cough slightly before even being able to think of a response, “Well, um, yeah...no, H, Harry is just my employer and...friend. No dating, we just get along well. Which is important since we spend a lot of time together - for work of course!”

Aidy smiled sweetly at Y/N, “Yeah, Harry explained that when Beck asked him how long you’d been together. At first he had said a couple months and then said ‘wait, Y/N is just my stylist, we’ve been working together for a couple months’ and then we all felt really dumb.”

“Don’t feel dumb,” Y/N reassured her, unsure why she was actually continuing this conversation, “He loves to talk about clothes and that’s where I fit in to his life, so I’m sure my name would come up a fair bit. Was that it?”

“Yeah I guess, but-” Aidy began to say more, but Y/N cut her off.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, but Harry’s finished and I’ve got to go help him change for his next song.”

Aidy was left in Y/N’s wake, chuckling to herself, fully reassured about the reason that they had all thought Harry had been dating Y/N. Because they already acted like a couple. And they were both helplessly in love with one another and neither of them knew.

The rest of the show went off without a hitch. Harry continued to wow the crowd and Y/N sent him off from his dressing room always looking fabulous. Just as he was about to walk back on stage for his final farewell, Y/N noticed a tiny string on his trousers zipper. Unable to stop Harry and unable to grab at the string without looking odd, she had to let him walk on stage with it. It wasn’t actually a big deal, but Y/N sighed in annoyance because she knew that string was going to bug her for the rest of the night.

“Treat People With Kindness!” Harry finishes off his farewell.

Applause begins to sound and the cast is out front hugging and chatting, while Y/N is watching from the side still fixated on the string on Harry’s pants, now simply dangling. Finally, they begin to clear the stage because it’s time for the after party. Y/N knew there was no stealing Harry away to fix the problem that was now fixated in her mind. Every cast and crew member was trying to talk to him, congratulating him, hugging him, anything to spend time with the incredible man. Y/N couldn’t blame them, but she also wanted to be able to go some place quiet and debrief with Harry about his outfits. She wanted to look up what people were saying about his clothes and discuss the critiques with Harry. She also wanted to start discussing what was coming next with Harry. But most of all, she just wanted to hang out with Harry.

What Y/N wanted wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which she knew, but it still only grew her annoyance with that string. If only she could get it off of him, maybe then her mind would be able to relax a little.

She meandered backstage, resigned she wouldn’t be talking to Harry for a while. There she went to find the band’s dressing room, knowing she would find Mitch or Sarah who she’d be happy to talk to. They weren’t ones for the spotlight and no one ever really seemed to want to brownnose with them at events like this. Y/N had met them a few times.

The first was when Harry had asked Y/N to meet him in the studio in mid July, Mitch and Sarah had both been there helping Harry finish up something for the album. Y/N never asked what, she liked music quite a bit, but when it came to the technical part of it, it went completely over her head. Harry had introduced them both and they seemed lovely. After that, she had seen them around for an event or two of Harry’s. It wasn’t much, but it was more than any of the other people around right now.

Just as she was about to knock on the door it swung open, revealing Harry’s entire backing band. “Hey,” Y/N said sheepishly, “Harry’s being fawned over by the masses and I don’t actually know anyone else here. Is it alright if I hang out with you all at this after party? I doubt there’s going to be anyone really dying to meet the stylist.”

She smoothed her own clothes as she spoke. Y/N wanted to look professional tonight because sometimes when she was dressed in more fun or “young” clothes she got mistaken for someone who had snuck in. The only thing that got people to not question her authority to be where she was, was a card that read ‘staff’ that she would clip onto whatever she was wearing at places like this. Tonight, she chose a pair of purple plaid pants, a sleek lilac tank underneath a cream knit shawl, and cream Gucci mules.  Ever since Harry took an interest in Y/N’s pearl necklace, she had largely stopped wearing hers because she hoped never to be photographed matching with him. However, she had known the pearls would have completed the look, even putting them on in her hotel room, twisting a pearl in her hand as she looked in the mirror, and then taking the necklace off again and settling on a different silver necklace instead. The ‘staff’ card was clipped to her pants pocket tonight.

“Of course!” Sarah said as the band began to file out of the room, “You might want to take your tag off now, though, you’re done working for the night.”

Her laughter rang sweetly through Y/N’s ears and she smiled back before removing her identifying card. She hated the piece of plastic and was glad to take it off, it never went with her outfits, but she had gotten tired of taking out her business card every time someone asked what she was doing. Y/N was sure that during the tour she’d be fine without it, but as Harry’s show appearances were beginning to ramp up she knew it would be helpful to have.

“Thanks...you all were amazing out there tonight. Second time on the SNL stage right?”

The group of you began to walk in the direction of where the after party was being held. Mitch piped up, “Thanks. Yeah, I love their box stage setup, it’s pretty cool.” Y/N was happy that she had people who were easy to talk to so that she wouldn’t be alone tonight.

Arriving in the room of the party, they were all quick to grab the alcohol that was being provided at the pop up bar. Y/N wasn’t normally a fan of drinking at events like these, mainly because she was not usually invited to this part of the night and when she was she wanted to be alert. But she figured there wasn’t much else to do so she took a hearty sip of the champagne. It was a little sweet, her face scrunched.

“Too sweet?” Mitch questioned when he saw Y/N’s face.

“Just a little for my taste.”

“Harry’s not going to be drinking tonight then. So particular about his alcohol,” Mitch continued.

Y/N laughed, “Well I’m glad, then I don’t have to deal with him being a baby about his hangover tomorrow.”

Mitch quirked an eyebrow at Y/N’s statement. Sarah and the others in the band had dispersed to mingle with the SNL party goers, leaving Mitch and Y/N to their conversation.

Realizing what she said could be seen as slightly weird out of context, Y/N quickly started again, “because I’m supposed to go shopping with Harry tomorrow. He wanted to go to Gucci and a couple other stores here before flying to LA. I’m going back to London until the listening parties, so we need to figure out the finishing touches for those and..” Y/N trailed off trying to remember which looks weren’t completed yet for the next few shows, Mitch waited patiently, “a few of the suits for the Late Late Show. He’s not happy with one of them so we might switch it. But anyway, you know how he is with a hangover. Proper child.”

Mitch threw his head back in laughter at Y/N’s serious look that she gave him. “Yeah, he can be...a lot. I meant to tell you, Harry looked great tonight. All of the clothes were fantastic,” Mitch added.

He was kind and Y/N appreciated him sticking with her. The two of them had rested themselves against a wall near the bar, sipping their champagne and enjoying each other’s company.

“Thank you.”

Mitch opened his mouth to say something else, but Heidi Gardener, another SNL member interrupted.

“Y/N, right!?”

Y/N and Mitch both turn to her, equally taken aback by the sudden burst of energy from this person they didn’t really know. Y/N nodded.

“Oh my gosh! You have to tell me where you got the jacket Harry is wearing!”

Heidi even goes as far to point in Harry’s direction. Y/N knows what she’s talking about, but her eyes still wander to where she pointed. Harry stood in a clump of people, surrounded by Ben Winston, James Corden, and the Gerbers who had all come to watch. She sighed as she watched his eyes shine as he laughed with a smile on his face. She hoped that by now the string had fallen off his pants by now, if not she was going to kick herself later.

“Oh, it’s Bode,” Y/N’s eyes coming back to meet Heidi’s happy face, “but it’s custom made from a vintage blanket. There’s only two that exist.”

Y/N and Mitch watched as Heidi’s face dropped.

“And I’m pretty sure the designer owns the other one,” Y/N added, “Sorry.”

Heidi smiles and jokes, “Know any ways I could possibly get Harry to give me his?”

“He loves that coat. I have no idea what you could possibly do to convince him he didn’t need it anymore.”

“Sex, probably,” Mitch says under his breath.

Heidi doesn’t catch it as she walks back off and Y/N turns to swat him with her free hand.  

“What? He always gives away his clothes to girl’s he has crushes on.” Y/N rolls her eyes at Mitch’s words.

“Probably best if you don’t inform the masses about that,” a new voice says.

Unbeknownst to Mitch and Y/N, Harry had broken away from his entourage to steal a few minutes with his two friends, his best friends if he was being honest. They laugh together as he wraps his arms around their shoulders and pulls them both into his chest. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from Harry’s body as she snuggles into his side. Her hand wraps under his jacket and around his waist to squeeze right about his hip bone. His face is gleaming with a small sheen of sweat, but his smile is so big she barely notices his perspiration as he looks down at her.

“Heard you were talkin’ shit?”

Mitch quips, “Us? Never.”

Harry scoffs, “Come off it!”

When he releases Y/N and Mitch from his grasp, Mitch straightens up while Y/N’s eyes immediately go down to Harry’s crotch. She’s not paying attention to their conversation as she tries to make out in the dim light whether the string is gone or not. The men realize she’s not listening and they both follow her gaze.

Confused, Harry asks, “Y/N, any particular reason you’re staring at my dick?”

Her head shoots up, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

“I wasn’t!”

Mitch laughs and decides he wants another glass of champagne right then, mumbling something about how that was his cue. Harry smiles, knowing she wasn’t doing what he had said, but still intrigued to know what was going on in her mind.

“You had a string right on your zipper and it’s been bugging me since you went out for your outro. This is the first time I’ve seen you on your own and I couldn't exactly go up to you in a random crowd and grab at your crotch. But now I can’t see in this light…” Y/N bit at her lower lip and furrowed her brow still trying to see if the string was there.

“Have you really been thinking about it this whole time?” Harry asked, slightly concerned.

“Yes...I know it doesn’t matter, but I just want your clothes to look perfect.”

Harry takes a deep breath as he makes a small smile at Y/N. Then he brushes over the front of his pants, hoping he removes the string if it's still attached to him. “There, I’m sure it’s gone now. I’m sorry you had to worry about that. Just know everyone I’ve talked to has been raving about the clothes.” He placed his ring-clad hand on Y/N’s upper arm and squeezed it.

“You did an amazing job,” Y/N said.

Harry pulls her into his chest one more time. This time without Mitch so both of Harry’s arms go around her shoulders and both of hers go around his slender waist. Again her hands disappear under his coat and thumb over his warm white t-shirt, her face resting on his chest right next to the word ‘Sex’. His arms tighten around her back as they rest there for a while. Y/N always has to make herself pull away, knowing that Harry will stay there for as long as he can - in anyone’s embrace - and remembering they’re in a public setting, she didn’t want anyone to assume things, even if she had already been made aware that people had.

“We’ll debrief more later tonight, yeah? The champagne is terrible so I won’t be drinking,” Harry said.

Y/N laughed under her breath as she smiled at his words. Mitch and her knew Harry too well. She nodded about getting together later, “Alright. Get back to your fan club.” Harry narrowed her eyes at her words, not sure if she was trying to sound sarcastic or not.

-

Hey, I’m back at the hotel. Just let me know when you want to debrief :) x

Y/N texted Harry the minute she got back to the hotel, she had no idea if he had left before her or was still at the after party. All she knew was that it was late and she was starting to get tired. Still, it was important for them to talk about their plans for tomorrow and she also really wanted to just be with him alone. Whenever they would debrief after big events Harry and Y/N would laugh at all the outrageous stuff they had seen go on throughout the night.

When she was still a freelance stylist she had helped Harry to plan his Camp outfit at the Met Gala. That night, they never even went to bed and had to debrief about the clothes the next afternoon over tea at the Palace. Both her and Harry were recovering from their exhaustion and nursing equally terrible hangovers. But there they were, sitting in the center of the dining area of the hotel, being served some of the nicest tea and sandwiches Y/N had ever had. It was amazing. Y/N had never felt that rich in her life before and Harry had told her the craziest stories about the most famous people in attendance. It was almost unbelievable what these people would reveal to Harry and Y/N was happy to listen to all of it, promising to never tell anyone else. That outing was probably the first time Harry realized he really liked Y/N and wanted to work more closely with her.

While tonight wasn’t quite as wild as the Met Gala had been, Y/N was still excited to hear any funny stories Harry might have in addition to their clothing talk. They really hadn’t had much time to chat since she had gotten to New York yesterday so it would be nice to just be alone together. Even if Y/N chalked their debriefs up to ‘shop talk’, she was always very excited for them.

As she reached her hotel room door, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.

I’m still out, but should be heading back soon. Up to you if you want to wait up or we can just debrief in the morning while we shop. x H  

Y/N sighed at the message, she wanted to wait up and debrief before tomorrow, if not for alone time with Harry but professionally for being able to plan out their shopping tomorrow. Where Harry was carefree, Y/N was meticulous and planned out. She liked to have fun, but she knew when she had to get her work done, even when Harry was off in his own mind. Their work styles mostly coincided, Harry could be serious and focused, too, but often when he was surrounded by all his famous friends he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to whatever came up. So Y/N knew that Harry’s definition of ‘soon’ could range from actually soon to almost dawn. She really hoped he actually meant soon, so she shot him a text saying:

Just knock on my room and if I open it we can debrief lol x

Harry smiled down at his phone when Y/N’s text came through, slightly chuckling before double tapping and placing a heart reaction of her text. Then he was pulled into the limo that one of his friend’s had gotten them and was handed a flute of champagne.

Back at the hotel, Y/N threw her phone on the bed and decided to change and simply settle in for the night. If Harry made it back, he made it back and if he didn’t she’d wake up well rested.

Maybe thirty minutes into scrolling on her phone, Y/N heard a rough knock on her door. She was actually quite surprised that Harry had indeed been back soon. Rising from her snuggled place in the bed, she shifted around her night clothes and padded to her door. There stood, rather hung, a slightly disheveled Harry. His hair was whipped into disaster, something was smudged on his face, and she noticed a stain on his t-shirt that hadn’t been there the last time she’d been with him.

He slurred her name as he stumbled through the doorway. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She was in awe that somehow Harry hadn’t gotten off his ass in the past hour and a half.

“What happened to not drinking tonight?”

She walked beside him and helped shove him into a sitting position on her bed. He flapped his arms, chaotically trying to get his plaid jacket off. Throwing her phone in the direction of her pillow, she moved to help Harry with his jacket. After quite a bit of strugglings, Y/N finally got the Bode jacket off of him successfully and threw it onto the nearby chair. Sighing, she settled beside him.

“So, Harry, care to explain?”

“Hi, Y/N…” He swayed slightly, attempting to face Y/N more. She threw out a hand to his shoulder, gripping him tightly to try and steady him.

“We went in this limousine, and they had champagne - good champagne - and I drank a bottle or so pretty quickly.”

“Or so? Oh Harry...I mean you’re free to make your own choices, but I don’t know if this was one of your best.”

“Wasn’t...wasn’t my idea. I was planning on just going back to the hotel. Then James convinced me to come out for a bit. Then the champagne was looking good so I went for it.”

“Like I said, you can make your own choices,” she patted his arm and went to the en suite bathroom to wet a washcloth to clean off his face.

“So, is it champagne on your shirt or am I going to have to go through hell to get the stain out?” She called.

Harry groaned and leaned back on the bed, fingering at the crisp white sheets. “Champagne,” he finally muttered as Y/N reappeared into the dim room, only the outside world and the light in the bathroom lighting this area.

“And on the face?”

She climbed onto the bed and kneeled beside Harry’s prone body, beginning to swipe at the smudge on his face. He tilted his head to face her, bringing the cheek with the dirt to lay facing perfectly up. His jawline showed perfectly and she felt the strength that laid beneath the skin she was washing.

His eyes flitted up to her face, trying to stop the spins he was currently experiencing. He hadn’t thought he was that drunk until he had been required to find his way up to their floor on his own.

“Lipstick?”

She sighed, running the washcloth over his cheek once more, and tried to push the image of some woman (or man who wore lipstick, she guessed) with her lips all over Harry’s face. She didn’t want to know who it was or why it was. It was too hard, especially after the day of people asking her about Harry and her relationship and insinuating things about him and his romantic life. She just liked to keep the words Harry and romance apart as much as possible, it made her life easier that way.

“It was only from-”

“It’s ok, Harry, I don’t need to know who you were…” She stopped herself, not even wanting to say ‘kissing’ or ‘snogging’ or even worse ‘shagging’. Adults were human beings and they could do a lot in an hour and a half. And again, she didn’t want to know.

“You keep doing that. Are you mad at me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Calling me Harry, not ‘H’. Is it because you’re mad at me?”

“No,” she sighed, shifting to sit more casually, “No, I’m not mad at you. I just wasn’t expecting you to show up at my door like this. I try not to worry about you, but then when you show up like this, it kind of affirms I had reason to be concerned.”

She took a hand and smoothed over Harry’s tousled hair, he rolled his head back to face the ceiling. “Like I said, you’re an adult, capable of making his own decisions. And, I am just your stylist. I’m just glad you made it up here and knocked on my door. Probably would have given someone else a fright.”

He laughed, starting to sober up as the spinning in the room stopped. Her hands on his face and hair were soothing and sobering.

“Thank you for caring about me, love. And going beyond being just my stylist, you’re my friend Y/N.”

His eyes flickered shut and Y/N stared at his soothed features. His words were still slurred and she was sure the use of love was just his britishness slipping through his drunken state. The part about being more than a stylist, she tried to push it away, telling herself not to read more into it than her heart would like to. Even though he said she was a friend as well as a stylist and not anything more, it still sent so much joy through her body. He didn’t just see her as a work colleague and he had said it. But in his inebriated state, Y/N didn’t want to take everything he said as gospel.

She moved him up the bed with a little bit of his sleepy self’s help into a more comfortable position. It was pretty late now and she wasn’t going to kick him out. It would have been rude and unkind and that were two things Y/N rarely was. She went and grabbed the extra blanket from the cabinet and draped it over Harry’s large body for extra warmth since he refused to get under the covers. She also slipped off his boots and stained shirt per his request before getting into the other side of the bed and falling asleep.

-

She awoke to a shifting body beside her and she sat up confused as to who it could be. Quickly, Harry showing up drunk at her door came flooding back and she turned to look at the groaning Harry beside her. His arm was thrown over his face as he moaned, just waking up as well and experiencing the first bits of his hangover. This was going to be a long day.

“Hullo,” his voice was especially low, groggy and hoarse from the night before. He peaked over at her from behind the crook of his elbow. His eyelids barely open and his eyelashes weighing them down so much so that she could barely see his sleepy jade eyes.

“Good morning, H. Have a nice rest?” Y/N sat up and began to ready herself for the day, rummaging through her suitcase for an outfit and moving about the room.

Harry’s arms went to his sides as he worked to sit up, eyes following her figure as she moved around, seemingly not groggy very much unlike him. “Erm...I’m sorry for showing up pissed.”

“S’fine, H. Just glad you didn’t end up in a ditch or someone’s bed - someone’s that you might regret…” She barely regards him, throwing a single glance his way before shuffling to the bathroom to change. She knows they’ll be photographed today, it’s almost inevitable right now. Everyone knows Harry is in New York and people are buzzing to see him after his performance last night. She slips on the 70s inspired dress, the v-neck and long sleeves settling perfectly on her frame, it hugs her curves and lands around mid-thigh. Rolling on the bold mustard yellow tights and strapping up the brown leather mary jane heels, she looks herself over in the mirror. She then tries to tame her hair and do the rest of her routine, knowing she needed to get on with the day, shopping first and flying home second. Making sure Harry was okay was also on that list, but she couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t a little disappointed in him after last night.

When she returns, Harry is sitting with his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, head hanging as he’s hunched over himself. “C’mon, you gotta get going, kid. Lots to do today.” She’s pacing over to Harry’s deflated figure to pick him up and prompt him to get moving. When she arrives by his side his head lifts and his now more awake eyes stare up at her.

“I’m sorry for yesterday, really. I mean it.”  

“I told you already. It’s fine.”

“It’s not - or it wasn’t. You called me ‘Harry’ last night. I don’t think I’ve heard you call me that to my face since we started working together. I took your answer last night because I was swimming in it, but now, thinking about it. I know you were upset.”

She huffs, taking a seat beside Harry on the bed, choosing to not look at him, slightly confused why she had been so upset and why he was pushing it. “Ok, yeah I was annoyed, but I was also genuinely worried. I didn’t know you could physically get that drunk in that small amount of time. And then you show up at my door with somebody else’s…” Y/N falters, catching her slip up and deciding to fix her gaze on her shoes and their intricate design built into the leather.

“You’re upset that I had lipstick on me?” He’s trying to meet Y/N’s gaze, but her eyes are really interested in her shoes. His tone is confused, he’s trying to understand what’s going on in her mind.

She scoffs, risking a glance to Harry but then returns quickly back to her dress this time. “Please...it was just inconvenient for me, okay? Thought we were going to debrief and stayed up late for you. Then I had to take care of you after you hung out with your famous pals and I had barely even seen you all day. Felt a bit used.”

Harry shifted in the bed, turning to face her by tucking one leg beneath him. He places a hand on hers that was placed on the end of her dress. Her eyes finally meet with his and she feels her breath slightly catch in her throat. His eyes are piercing, his gaze intense, maybe even a tinge of anger. “Y/N, I would never have come to your room if I even had an inkling that this would be how you’d interpret it . Even though I was drunk, I wanted to see you, that’s why I came up here, because I wanted to be with my friend, one of my best friends, not because I just needed some pushover to care for me.”

She sighs, feeling icky still about the whole situation. She sometimes found herself in fights that she never intended, she wished she hadn’t said anything at all. But she also knew that wasn’t healthy either. Flipping her hand, she intertwines her fingers with Harry’s and smiles for the first time that morning. His expression softens at it. “Look, I’m sorry too, H. It honestly wasn’t that big of a deal, but I appreciate that you’re such a great guy and boss to want to truly apologize and make sure I’m comfortable and happy… Oh, and I promise I’ll never call you anything but H from here on out - unless you tell me otherwise.”

He cackles unabashedly at her words, before suddenly clutching at his temple with his free hand. “Fuckin’ hangover,” he mumbles. She smiles and stands up, beginning to throw his shirt and shoes from the end of the bed at him, “You need to get ready. Go pop some advil or whatever. My flights at 5 so we haven’t got all day, H.”

“There she is,” Harry grins, beginning to put back on the stained ‘Sex’ shirt.

As he hustles out of the room, shoes in hand, she calls to him one last request, “When you’re in fresh clothes make sure you bring me that stained shirt. Gonna have to spot clean it when I’m back in London!”

“Of course! And we’ll debrief as we shop, yeah?”

“Yes!”

The two of them were shouting to each other as the door continued to close on them. Chuckling to herself, she begins to pack up her room, knowing she had to check out before they left. Her spirits already lifted, she doesn’t even notice as she throws Harry’s forgotten Bode jacket into her suitcase with some other items that had been on her chair. She wouldn’t notice it until she was back in London unpacking from the trip.

Shutting the case, she springs back up from her crouched position and walks to look in the full length mirror again. Her fingers run the length of her dress, leafing over the slightly darker brown embroidered flowers that were woven into the tan fabric. She squints as she turns sideways and pops a heel up behind her. It looks good, but something is missing. Rummaging through her carry-on she pulls out her old butterfly bandana she used as a head scarf and begins to fix it into place on her head. Placing large sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, she feels like the look is complete and gives herself some poses in the mirror; a peace sign, an air kiss, a Marilyn Monroe. She laughs at herself.

A knock on the door shakes her from her childish fun. Straightening up, Y/N saunters over to the door, swinging it open with ease. “H?”

“You ready?” Harry stands in a fresh pair of Marni trousers paired with a striped orange and mauve Marni sweater. He, like Y/N, had this thing about wearing the brand you planned to shop at. He didn’t always stick to his rule, but he usually didn’t like to wear Gucci when he shopped at Gucci.

“Yeah, just need to check out and drop my baggage at the front to be held for later.” Y/N slips through the door and notes how his outfit compliments hers. She wouldn’t mention it, but it's something to think about since he had known what she was wearing. She wasn’t sure why she noticed things like that, if asked, her answer would probably be that it was the stylist in her, just her job.

-

Stepping out of a black town car on the side street next to Gucci to go in the side entrance would never get old for Y/N. She had never really enjoyed the idea of fame, but from a young age she had known she wanted to be able to afford the finer things in life. Going into the Gucci store now, especially with Harry, was like going to the candy store once you’re a grown up and can buy whatever you want rather than what your parents will allow you to.

Today, Harry and Y/N didn’t have as much time as they would usually like to spend in the store, but they were just happy to be doing what they loved. Y/N had been ecstatic to find out Harry found shopping to be an essential part of his life and that he liked to do his outfit shopping in person rather than online. Trying on clothes and picking out things you liked just was so much more fulfilling when you were in the physical store. Then make that all happen with Harry Styles as the buyer, then it was a real party. The stores liked to pull out their Champagne and clear the store to allow him privacy, specifically when it was for clothes for projects under wraps. In the beginning of her employment, it was only ever Harry who would do the trying on of clothes, but as the two of them got acquainted and comfortable with each other, she found herself trying things Harry would pick out for her. At first, she would veto some items saying they were too expensive for her, but eventually she learned that her new salary covered whatever it was. She had always enjoyed designer labels and choosing to be a stylist meant she had nice clothes, but only working for Harry had caused her closet to double in size and triple in value.

“So we are looking for some trousers today,” she tells the worker at the store, reminding them of what she had already called ahead about. The employee nods and proceeds to lead them into the room where they had laid out an assortment of pants for Harry to pick from.

“What do you think of these?” Harry walks out and strikes a pose, popping one of his hips to the side and his hands on his hips. The pants strain around his thighs, but fit practically perfectly everywhere else. His slim waist is perfectly encircled by the fabric and he’s decided the sweater he was wearing didn’t match them and he’d rather go shirtless. This choice technically should allow her to solely focus on the pants, but it actually makes her focus that much more diverted. She makes a spinning motion with her pointer finger as she purses her lips. He takes a quick spin and the boot cut slightly flares with his movement. The pants are a dark brown with a single plaid crossing in a lighter brown. They are only lightly flared, which she prefered to the extreme flare that some of Harry’s suits had. She narrows her eyes at the pants to keep her gaze from shifting to the taut muscles of Harry’s arms and torso or the dark ink that licked over his skin in the beautiful designs of his choice.

“They’re nice,” she pulls up a picture of the top part of the outfit he was planning on wearing, “Do you think they match with this though?” Harry walks over to her seated position and bends to look at her phone. His skin radiates heat and the smell of his cologne and she sniffles slightly with her sensitive nose. His eyes flicker to her face when he notices her little noise, but returns to looking at the phone when she doesn’t spare him a glance. She felt his gaze on her, but couldn’t bring herself to look from the phone. She knew his proximity would make it even harder for her to keep her eyes off his naked torso. The expensive smell of Harry mixed with the expensive smell of the store was a lot to handle.

“Yeah...no. You think they’re not right,” she widens her eyes at Harry’s words when he pulls away. He turns to the mirror in the open dressing room and fiddles with the waistline of the pants. “I agree,” he finishes before stalking back into the room and shutting the heavy velvet curtain that worked as the door to it.

He tries on five more pairs of trousers and finally settles on two pairs for the two different listening parties. A heavier, wool-tweed pair that was dark brown and then a lighter brown tweed pair. He was still in the lighter pants as he stared into the mirror. He beckoned to Y/N, and she quickly set down the flute of Champagne she had been sipping at lazily as he admired himself.

“Is it possible for you to take it in a bit more,” he says in a hushed tone to her, not wanting the workers to overhear. They were helpful but if they overheard they would wait for the store to tailor the trousers and he preferred for Y/N to do it. He rubs at the waistline again and she moves closer, her hands going to his sides. Her fingertips graze the naked skin above the trousers and Harry shivers at the coldness of the new touch. She ghosts softly over the waistline herself and smooths the fabric until she’s pinching a small amount on each side. She hums, pulling back from Harry and looking at the fit of them now, examining whether that makes them look better.

Then she nods and smiles up at Harry, “Ever the slender waist,” he grins right back as she admires him. She knew how much he liked praise and she was happy to give it to him, especially when he was so deserving. “I’d say size down, but then your thighs and bum might strain the fabric too much.” His face turns to a smirk as she blushes at her words. She releases the fabric and takes a hand to pat Harry’s smooth chest before walking back to her seat on the lovely couch.

“You sure you don’t want to try anything on, Y/N? Saw some killer boots when we walked in that screamed you.” Harry calls from behind the curtain, presumably getting redressed. Her laugh comes through the curtain slightly muffled, yet still a sweet melody in Harry’s ears.

“Definitely not now, we’re leaving any minute. Plus, I’ve got plenty of Gucci boots, don’t even show me them or I’ll be tempted.”

His laughter rings through the curtains, loud and unrestrained. She smiles to herself, unable to discourage the pleasure that weaves through her at the sound. His presence in all the different ways she experienced it was instantly comforting.

-

When she arrives back to her London flat, she practically flops on her couch once she’s inside the door. Her luggage forgotten at the door, as she shrugs off her coat. It was around 7 am because she had chosen to take the red eye for some reason. She groaned as she thought about the day ahead of her. Even though Harry was halfway across the globe, she still had plenty of work to do. She had to finalize the outfits for the listening parties now that they had the pants to complete the looks. Then she had to start thinking about Harry’s December appearances. She had sent ahead his Late Late outfits that he had needed in Los Angeles for the pre-filming, but she still had to deal with the outfits for the live part of the show.

Today, she was set to go pick up the other pieces needed for the listening parties as well as items for the Graham Norton Show and Jingle Ball. She was most excited for her travels because that meant looking at brand new clothes that were perfect and gorgeous. She also knew she needed to spot clean Harry’s shirt, which didn’t spark as much joy in her tired mind.

The idea of the shirt staining with alcohol was what brought her out of her snuggling with her comfy couch. Sure, it couldn’t get that bad, but still she was a worrier and it would pain her if the iconic shirt got ruined. She padded back over to her luggage, now without her jacket or shoes. Her major suitcase got flipped on its side and she began to unzip it. It came open easily seeing as it was stuffed with her clothes and various items. She had to rummage a minute for Harry’s shirt that seemed to have run away inside the bag. Finally, the large white shirt made itself known and she grasped it happily.

As she looked over the stain near the collar of the shirt, her eyes traveled to a piece of fabric peeking out of her suitcase. It was a familiar blue, cream and white. A specific fabric she would never misplace, would never not recognize. Harry’s plaid Bode jacket. It was iconic and she loved it, but why did she have it in her suitcase. She definitely didn’t mean to have it, it’s genuinely just one of Harry’s jackets so it wouldn’t make sense for her to bring it back with the show's wardrobe. She tries to think back to yesterday, when she was still in New York. Thinking about why she would have it, she places the memories of Harry coming to her room, taking off his coat, and accidentally leaving it in her room all fit together. She must have just absentmindedly placed it in her suitcase without even realizing. She’s sure Harry wouldn’t mind, she’d shoot him a text, though, to tell him she had it. So he wouldn’t worry about whether he’d lost it or not.

When she gets ready for the day, she finds herself being drawn to blue and cream. Her outfit is understated and she just knows the jacket would finish the look. She loved that jacket and now that she had it, would it be a big deal if she wore it out. She figured it was fine. After she grabbed her purse, keys, and other essentials, she slipped on the coat. Harry was very broad shouldered and it hung oversized on her. She loved the look and snapped a selfie in the mirror before she headed out. While it felt a little narcissistic to constantly take photos of herself, she felt like as a stylist it was important to document her looks just as much as she documented her clients.

What she didn’t think about is just how much the rest of the world liked to document her client and those who were seen with her client. She didn’t think about how she had just been seen with Harry yesterday. That thought didn’t even cross her mind as she walked around the streets of London picking up her work. As she saw some photographers out and about (whom she assumed were for famous celebrities, not her). How it might seem with her wearing the Bode jacket Harry had worn on SNL two nights ago. The Bode jacket that there were only two of.

None of it crossed her mind. Not until it was the end of the day and she had a whole slew of texts from Harry’s manager. A few from Harry, and others but the other fifteen were solely from Jeff. She was a bad texter so as she walked into her flat and finally looked at her phone after putting down all of her garment bags her eyes went wide.

Please tell me you’re not out in London right now!

What are you wearing??

That cannot be Harry’s jacket Y/N

Seriously?

Please call me.

CALL ME. NOW.

      - All from Jeff.

She grimaced. The others from her friends including Harry would have to be ignored right now. Even if Harry was her boss, Jeff was who she had to deal with when it came to public appearances and it didn’t seem like she could get around this one. Normally, she never had to deal with him, but it seems today wasn’t normal.

- 

part 2

[maibi]

Consideration

Gojo Satoru x reader

Summary: A joke you played on Gojo kinda backfired. But was it really backfire or something you didn’t mind happening.. ;)

A/N: this turned out longer than I had expected. ANYWAYS I enjoyed writing this one ngl:)

——————————————————————————

Gojo was by far one of the most annoying people you have met, but sadly at the same time he is one of your closest friends. He’d always joke around and never really took anything serious. You would be training the 2nd years on the field and he would just be playing around with his first year students. You didn’t mind that he went easy on the first years, but he just left all the extra hard work over to you once they were in their second year. Which naturally made him more annoying to you. For a 28 year old he sure doesn't act his age. 

“What if you just went on a date with me?”, Gojo said as you were walking to your room, the one you stayed in at school. It was a much cheaper solution, so you didn’t mind it much. Plus you got to spend more time with your students and... other colleagues.

“What about no?”, you said as you stopped in front of your door. 

“AAAAH SENSEI THAT HURTS”, Gojo said as he clutched his heart over dramatically. 

“I’m not your sensei”, you answered back at him.

“I mean you could be”, he answered with a wink.

“How about no”, you said as you opened your door. “I am just your colleague.”

“Did I really just get colleague-zoned?”, he said as he wiped away a fake tear making you roll your eyes.

He was always like this. He’d joke around about liking you and didn't’ even conceal the fact about wanting to be in a relationship. But it had been like this since forever and you were so adapted to all the rejecting you did, that it always happened naturally now. He’d go “I like you a lot so let’s go on a date” and you would just shut him down in various ways. 

Of course there were times he’d make you blush or make your heart beat a little faster than normally, but you never really took his words into consideration. For example a certain situation that made your heart beat faster:

“Not gonna lie, You look really stunning this evening”, he said as he accompanied you on an evening party between all the teachers from Tokyo and Kyoto Jujustu High. 

He had reached out his hand for you to take because that was the kind of guy he was. He didn’t care about how he presented himself in public, so looking like his partner or not was not one of his concerns. So you just didn’t see a problem with it and took his hand as he locked both of your arms.

“Why thank you sir Satoru”, you said as you played along with him. “Though I have to say it feels a little too tight.”

“I think it accentuates your body perfectly”, he said with a wink. “Shall we go inside?”, he said back as your face was probably flushed red. With a nod the both of you went inside the building. 

It had been a peaceful night until a man wouldn’t stop bothering you. He was probably a teacher from Kyoto High so you didn’t want to sound rude, but you really did not enjoy the way he was bothering you. 

To your luck, Gojo had been watching the whole scene and couldn’t hold his chill. He walked up to you and linked your arms again. “I will be walking this person outside, if you have no business left with them you can gladly leave”, he said with a serious expression, boring a whole in the man’s face with his look. 

He pulled you with him to the exit and you just went along. “Maybe we should tell the rest that we’re leaving”, you hesitantly said. 

“It’s alright I'll let someone know we left”, he said.

“Not to be rude, but if we leave so abruptly together they might think wrongly...” You didn’t want to finish that sentence because he’d either act hurt and make jokes out of it or he’d be actually hurt and try not to show it.

You heard him sigh. “I’ll tell them you felt sick and that I sent you with a taxi. Don’t worry about it”, he said in a low voice. 

You weren’t gonna lie that that moment had made your heart beat faster, but you couldn’t tell him that. It felt weird to admit that to a person you have been rejecting for over years now. It’s not like you would feel like this constantly, so you didn’t mind it much. But little did you know... It wasn’t just a temporary feeling.

“You should check on your students, they’re still outside in the rain because of your punishment”, you said snapping back to reality. 

“Ah that’s alright, I gave Megumi the lead. He made sure all three of em went inside before it started raining. All so that I could have some alone time with you", he winked again.

“Then why are only Nobara and Yuuji outside?”, you asked as you pointed at your window. They weren’t, but you just wanted him to shut up and leave, so that was your solution. 

His eyes widened and he just sprinted in the directions of the stairs. He took it very serious when his students got sick, because he needed all of the time he got to teach his students. You always made fun of his way of teaching, but in the end the students always turned out to be strong. You didn’t ever really admit is, but he was a good teacher and in some way you looked up to him. Though that piece of information was not for him to know. He had a dream, and his students were helping him achieve it.

“Ooooh y/n sensei, you didn’t sleep yet?” It was Itadori who came walking in your direction. “I was looking for Gojo sensei, but I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Oh I sent him outside to look for you guys, because I told him Megumi left you and Nobara outside in the rain”, you said.

He looked visibly confused and looked his own body up and down. “But I'm right here?”

“Exactly”, you said as you winked and pointed a finger gun at him. 

His eyes widened and he started laughing. “Sensei that’s so cruel!”

“I have to do what I have to do in order for him to leave me alone sometimes”, you said with a sigh.

“Is Gojo sensei that bad towards you then?”, Yuuji asked.

“Ah Yuuji you’re making me seem like the bad guy here. But no, he actually isn’t all that bad. But he just doesn’t know about the word private space sometimes”, you said reassuring the teenager. 

“oh no I didn’t want to make you feel bad about your words”, he worriedly said as he shook his head. “I just know how Fushiguro gets annoyed easily, so I thought it might have been the same for you. Oh Gojo sensei!”

You turned your head to the side and saw Gojo walking in your direction as Itadori waved frantically, but it faded more and more as Gojo walked closer. He was completely drenched and he held his eye mask in his hands. He looked pissed, or more annoyed. 

“Yuuji could you leave me alone with y/n sensei”, he said not looking up.

“y/n sensei is this alright”, Yuuji whispered.

“It’s alright Yuuji, don’t worry about it. Just make sure you don’t stay around here, okey?”, you said with a smile and a nod to reassure him.

“Okey”, he said with a worried expression as he left anyways. 

You waited till You didn’t see Itadori anymore. You walked inside your room and Gojo just walked right in after you. You didn’t have the time to close the door as he just pinned you against it, making the push close the door. You were taken aback and Gojo just stared at you. You couldn’t read his expression at all. 

“Listen, I play and joke around a lot I know. But making me worry about my students’ health isn’t one of the things I can joke around with”, he said.

“What is it Gojo, did I push the wrong button?”, you said back, not giving a sign of being intimidated by him. 

“Don’t go playing all big and mighty now”, he said in an almost whisper, inching closer to your face.

Your heart was beating in your chest, but you didn’t give in. “What are you gonna do about it?”, you said also inching closer, leaving almost no space between your faces.

That was his sign. That was all he needed as confirmation so he just held you neck and pulled you in, closing the space that was left between the two of you. you synced with his movements and he barely gave you a moment to breath.

He pulled back and looked you straight in the eyes. “I’m not joking around with you, I'm serious. I am ready to give you my all, I hope you realized that by now. I know you feel the same way and I'll give you as much time as you need. But don’t make me waste my time. So if you want me just tell me and I'll give you all the space you need after that”, he said with no hint of sarcasm. 

“Who said I wanted space?”, you said with a smug smile. “Why would i want space when I can take you right now Gojo Satoru”, you said in a whisper with a smug smile. 

He liked that side of you. That playful side of you that appears once in a while. It turned him on, it made him imagine things he shouldn’t and you knew you had that impact on him. Because in the end he never showed any effort in concealing his true feelings so figuring him out wasn’t as hard as you sometimes thought it would. 

He smiled back at you and raised his eyebrows. “Guess chasing after you was really worth it huh?”

You pulled him back in for a kiss and this one was more passionate than the other. You pulled him closer, you deepened the kiss and he did everything in his power to not squish you against the door. Your hand moved to his damp hair and you tugged at it lightly. He moved his head to your ear and trailed down kisses to your shoulder. 

His hand moved to the lock of the door and you heard it click. You turned your head slightly that you had a good view on his face. He was smirking and you rolled your eyes at him in a playful way.

“Let’s see how good you keep your word when saying you can take me right now”, he said.

“I can’t back down now, can I”, you smugly answered.

With a breathy laugh he brought his face back to yours. “where were we”, he said in a whisper.

“Here”, you said and you pulled him back in for a kiss. 

It was quite obvious from the start that you and Gojo would end up like this. You couldn’t deny your feelings forever and Gojo was one hell of a pain in the ass to keep on reminding you that you had no escape from him. Not that you wanted that. But like said before, he didn’t need to know that piece of information. Some things were better left off not said, because in the end Gojo Satoru is one hell of a cocky person, but that was one thing you adored so much about him. And let’s not forget, you were in love with him and there was no denying that either. 

[aetheternity]

Sight, smell, touch, taste, sound and which one I believe would draw the Aot girls to you. Kinda Modern Au 🤷‍♀️ idk you be the judge.

(Pov: none of you asked for this but I got bored and decided to give it to you anyway.)

Mikasa

~Touch

The first time you touched her it was to pat her shoulder and tell her, "good luck" on a mission and she's been riding that high til the day she finally had you.

She was already so infatuated by you to the point that every bit of your touch became a daily necessity.

Locking you into her tight hugs late at night.

Pulling your lips back into hers whenever you try to escape.

She'll give you tiny kisses spread all over your face as soon as you wake up. And she's a huge fan of eskimo kisses. You might even trigger a little giggle from her when you initiate them.

She wants to rest her head on your chest and fall asleep to your heartbeat.

She's got your fingers perfectly knotted with hers in every situation.

Tangles your legs when the two of you are resting on the couch.

"I have to get up sometime Mikasa." Not today you don't.

Her favorite spot to scratch is your lower back. She softly circles her nails over that bit of skin after hiking your shirt up.

Please let her spend the day with you in her lap it's the perfect amount of intimate for her.

Annie

~Touch/Sound

One day you came to her with concern filling your eyes and hugged her even though you never had before. You simply told her, "I feel like something's wrong but I won't pry. Just know I'll be waiting for you to come back to me." So softly in her ear and despite her push back at first her feelings for you grew stronger everyday.

She grew to adore the smallest things about you.

The sounds of your low morning yawns before you kiss her face.

The warmth of your knee resting between her thighs

Loves when you whine her name. It sends heat flowing through her entire body. "What do you want?" (She'll pretend she hates it tho.)

Whenever you two are alone she has her head firmly placed on your chest, falling asleep to your heartbeat. Just like Mikasa (No you do not have to pee lay back down)

Loves when you card your fingers through her untied hair. (Sometimes you make her hum when you scratch the back of her head just right.)

She's gotta have your hands when you two are cuddling. Holding you like she's scared you're not really there.

Whisper in her ear and she just might shiver for you.

Laugh when she's sarcastic and watch the pretty pink color dust over her cheeks.

Tells you she loves you under her breath and melts when you say it back after kissing her cheek or neck.

Sasha

~(Sweet angel 🥺) Touch/taste

She held your hand like she'd always done with you and asked what you'd want your last meal in the world to be. Fucking around you said, "You." And the girl practically burst into flame. Meanwhile Connie at the opposite end of the table is mocking y'all talking about some, "Get a room already!" And then you did 😏

Oh, you just had some candy? She's biting your lips and sucking on your tongue.

Oh, your shampoo/body wash smells like banana, coconut, strawberries etc? She's got her face in your neck giving you little kisses. (Sometimes she'll give you a little kitten lick but it's fine cause you love it 😃).

She likes mutual feeding (ik that sounds weird idk how else to put it.) Like if you guys are eating popcorn together while watching a movie, she likes when you place the popcorn in her mouth and she does the same for you.

Licks the butter off your fingers when the popcorns gone.

When you stretch your arms next to her and then proceed to wrap them around her neck or waist she's in heaven.

Adores the feeling of your fingers splayed over her stomach right after she finished eating and the way you tease her by stroking her inner thigh.

Randomly jumps in the shower with you so that she can run her hands up and down every inch of your skin.

Sometimes she wakes you with a bunch of forehead kisses.

"Five more minutes please.." You beg

If you wake up before her though she'd love to be wrapped in your arms as she eats breakfast.

Hitch

~Sight (y'all already know my baby's a lil shallow)

It was like a movie scene. She saw you across the room during a small party for the anniversary of the military police first debut and she just had to have you. And bug you.. she stayed by your side as often as possible after that.

She'll laugh so that her compliments on your body sound less genuine but she means it every time.

And when you're not looking she's got her lip between her teeth, eyes working up and down your body.

"I wanna see you in this honestly." She'll say late at night handing you a picture and covering her face as you look at it.

"Reminds me of your pink dress?"

"Yeah! Yes.. that's the point we'll match."

Doesn't matter how long you've been dating. She'll always build a little tension before every kiss by looking directly at your lips then back into your eyes with a little smirk.

Whistles when you wear an outfit she recommended.

She never straight up says it but her favorite part of your body is the part you like the least.

Backwards ass compliments.

"You know orange isn't normally your color but today you made it work." And "You seem really confident despite wearing those pants."

Don't worry it's how she shows affection.

Makes you blush as often as possible because she just can't get enough of how gorgeous you are when you do.

Pieck

~Sight/taste

From the second she saw you she knew she had to get you out of your little bubble. You'd both done the warrior training as kids and you always kept to yourself. She thought a person like you looked like you had a lot of secrets. And she was gonna learn as many as possible. The older you guys got the more attractive you became to each other and you kinda fell back into the nervousness she thought she'd driven out of you. Eventually she got you to accidentally blurt a confession. Next thing you knew her tongue was pulling all conscious thought out of you.

Idk Pieck gives me the vibes that she'd always be looking for a way to stick her tongue down your throat?? (Just me?? Alright..)

She'll twirl you around with a hand around your waist. Unabashedly checking you out.

Loves long sweet kisses while she rests between your legs.

Will never stop smiling at you when you exit the shower in only a towel.

Brushes her lips over your stomach to wake you.

She's so enamored by the twinkle in your eye when you talk with the younger generation of warriors.

Playfully suggests you just walk around the house completely naked so she can really appreciate your body.

Her heart one hundred percent drops when she sees you sad for even a second.

Let her kiss you wherever she wants! It's a lot easier than arguing with her!

And she will try in some weird places. (She gives me body worshipper vibes.)

Yelena

~Sound

She heard about you due to rumors about your incredible fighting style. But what made her seek you out was the knowledge that you were next in line to become a titan shifter. It was hard to tell if her affection was due to interest in you as a person or your incredible fighting style but one day she asked you to live with her in the new world. Of course you said yes.

She loves the sound of you singing. (If you can sing) Sometimes she actively seeks you out and asks for you to sing to her.

Your war cries make her back arch (shh I didn't say that).

The second you guys started dating she developed a sixth sense of some sort where she just shows up if you're crying or if your day has been going terrible.

She just adores the sound of your voice and she can't get enough of it.

I could see her dragging you off some place where the two of you can just talk.

Within less than a week of dating you she's already got ways to get any noise she wants out of you.

Graze their neck with the tip of your nose for giggles and kiss the tips of their ears for I love you's.

That sort of thing.

Whenever you make a noise she hasn't heard before she's dying to force you to make it again.

Idk what it's called but I feel like Yelena has that thing where noises are attributed to colors in her brain. And at some point she explains all the colors she sees whenever you make certain noises.

Hange

~Sight/touch

Moblit had to take a.. short vacation after one of Hange's lab disasters nearly crippled him.. so Erwin had asked you to fill in and you said yes. It was only for a couple weeks and during that time Hange stuck to you like glue. Throwing an arm over your shoulder, stealing little glances and laughing loudly when you'd catch her. It felt like normal Hange stuff. But on the last night before Moblit's return, Hange was weirdly not.. Hange.. being quiet, filling in data and barely making eye contact. You asked if you'd done something wrong but Hange barely said anything back. Before you left she was nose deep in paperwork. You said your goodbyes and you were about to leave when Hange asked if you'd be willing to go on a date. When you looked back she hadn't even looked up but you smiled and nodded with a little yes and the rest was history.

It's a no brainer that you spent all your free time in Hange's lab to be Hange's other support system other than Moblit.

And when Moblit died, Hange's entire support system.

Her touch lingering on your lower back as you lean over to check her notes.

Completely enamored with the glint in your eye whenever the two of you come up with a sort of breakthrough.

Deadass pulls you into her lap at the most random times.

Oh hey the meeting finally finished? Yanks your frame right into her lap and laughs at the eye rolling of fellow colleagues.

Hange will say sorry but that blush on your face was so worth it and she's so glad she did it.

Rubs your back as you sleep on the work piled on your side of the desk.

Probably accidentally wakes you up a couple minutes after you fell asleep though.

Hange once sat you on her lap after a meeting right before Erwin tried to hand her some papers over the table. Without thinking she stood up to grab them and your face slammed into the table while her hips were pressed against your ass. Immediately getting everyone's attention. Safe to say you no longer sit next to Hange at meetings. (I had to add this even though it's a little off topic and random.)

Historia

~Smell (First one here.)

She had to share a room with you until she became queen. And almost every night she'd have some kind of nightmare about Ymir. You didn't mean to make a move but one night she crawled into your bed like she always had and you wrapped your arms around her shivering form like you always did. She had her nose trapped in your nape and you pressed a kiss to her forehead hoping it would stop her harsh breathing. And it did. She froze, the world froze, everything froze. You had leaned back to apologize for overstepping her boundaries and she kissed you back.

She'd gotten so comfortable with your scent that not only did it constantly lull her to sleep but always gave her a sense of security.

You're her security blanket. I don't make the rules.

Speaking of blankets. You gave her yours when she moved into the castle.

Whenever she gets even an hour alone she's trying to get you in the castle so she can sit in your lap and bury her nose in your nape like she always has.

She also steals your shirts and hoodies as often as possible until they smell like her then you have to take them back and cover them with your stink again.

Spending early mornings in the castle after washing your hair and her telling you over and over that she missed your smell.

It's legit like having a long distance relationship while being in the same place.

And she doesn't let you go until the last second before you both have to go back to work.

If you guys have time and you shop together she'll keep the candles that you believed smelled the best in her room.

All in all give Historia your shirts to wear cause she loves them/they look great on her.

Ymir

~Sight/touch

You're probably either super sweet like Krista or really sarcastic like her and that's what draws her to look more in depth into you. When she finally gets a chance to actually look at you fully without the odm gear she finds herself fixated, tracing your figure with her eyes. You guys finally become friends, who mutually enjoy bullying Reiner. But she finds that she hates it. Thinks you're teasing her every time you brush her fingertips without actually holding her dammed hand. One day she just reaches out and grabs you properly and doesn't let go. Yeah, you're dating now.

What can I say except, she likes running a finger over the lines on your palm.

She's always grabbing you out of nowhere but you don't mind. You just let her hold you.

"You look extra beautiful today, bet you'll look even better when I put a ring on your finger."

Puts her hands under your shirt with no fucking shame.

Stares at you and yells at the first person that mocks her. Reiner/Connie

Can and will find a way to smack your ass the second she gets you alone.

Trails little butterfly kisses over your shoulders when you're trying to get dressed in the morning.

Literally everything you do is weirdly skillful to her.

Like you're peeling a potato and she's like, "You're so amazing at that.."

Let her lean on you for absolutely no reason she loves it. 🤷‍♀️

(I realized after writing this that Annie and Armin have the same one even tho I don't ship them at all 😕)

[anthrogothic]

Body/Prision

~Well, this is the first fic I've posted (not that I've written many). Maybe I found it interesting to explore the emotional and psychological side of the clones and, of course, Echo. Besides, of course, other little things. Hope you like it. 🥺 (and sorry for any mistake as this fic was originally written in brazilian portuguese).

Second part heeeeree

Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader (in this chapter only Hunter and Wrecker appear for now)

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Body insecurity and bullying.

You were always a woman of science. Curious, persistent and genius. As a child, you loved growing plants and watching animals. Sometimes experimented with changing the color of flowers in jars with colorful products or hatching small eggs of birds and reptiles in small boxes bathed in light and heated cloths. You once set fire to his parents Aldeeranian Silk curtains, after pointing a magnifying glass in front of the sunlight streaming through the windows.

No wonder you was one of the top students at Naboo's Faculty of Science when was older. After all, you were one of the few females in your class. Being constantly the victim of offensive comments and jokes, mainly because of baggy clothes that didn't mark your body, adopted after years of harassment for your sharp curves. Your glasses and voluminous hair didn't do much for the "jokes" to stop. Withdrawn in any group of popular and partying colleagues, you had nothing but to study with your few fellow “nerds”.

As a result, you soon got your first job in the field. Standing out so much that you was invited to participate in the cloning processes on Kamino a few times, even creating a certain professional relationship with Nala Se, the chief scientist.

You weren't a fan of cloning, even though it was incredible, you found it somewhat unethical in relation to the impact on the lives of Jango Fett clones. They weren't just battle products or numbers to you, but Human Beings with as many rights as anyone else. That they should have autonomy over their lives. But work is not always 100% pleasant, as much as it is something you love as long as you understand being human.

With your occasional visits to Kamino, you ended up having the sympathy of the clones, precisely for treating them like ordinary people, with different names and personalities despite the identical DNA and their fateful serial numbers.

You even ate with them in the cafeteria instead of the staff room and played with them in your free time and some would sneak men's uniforms for you, who were too bothered by the looks and teasing you received in your tight women's uniform.

One day, during a typical meal with your friends, a tone of laughter and nasty comments made you take your attention off your plate.

You poked your clone friend in the shoulder on your right.

"What is happening?"

He, without even looking up, snorted a laugh and spoke before taking the meal to his mouth:

"So you don't know the subject of the moment? There is a new squad among us. Weird… but they haven't suffered a single casualty on the field so far."

You raised an eyebrow, craning your neck a few times in an attempt to see something.

"I was not informed of this. I have not been assigned to inspect newly graduated soldiers for some time. But why the laughter and so much whispering?"

Deep in your brain, the bitter memory of your college days was pulled.

Your friend gave you an incredulous look, gesturing to find the right words to avoid any reprimand from you:

"They… well… are technically defective. Very different from us. No wonder they nicknamed them The Bad Batch."

He stifled a laugh. Soon getting punched in the arm accompanied by a scowl from you.

"Okay, okay. Forgive me, clone rights advocate."

His irony was clear, making you roll your eyes and get up, heading towards the counter where they left the used dishes. After thanking the wrinkled green lady who served the meal, you turned in the direction of leaving the cafeteria, but a sharp impact on your face and chest propels you back, followed by a lot of pain and strong hands gripping your elbows.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

A familiar, but deeper and stronger voice resonated in your ears, making you open your eyes faster than you normally would, as you bring your hand to your forehead and in the background thanking the Maker for wearing contact lenses instead of glasses today . It took you a while to map the face of the man in front of you. His long dark hair fell to his shoulders, his red bandana letting out a few shorter strands across his forehead, his almond-shaped eyes looking a little worried, and finally, a tattoo that covered the entire left part of his face.

He was familiar…but at the same time very different from the other clones. Even the armor, grey and red. Definitely seeing a different face in that cafeteria was a bit intriguing.

"I think you broke her, Hunter!"

A loud, husky voice came from behind you, making you turn your back to the tattooed man, just to behold the huge soldier who covered your entire field of vision.

He was huge, broad and with perfectly shaped muscles. Gradually, your eyes traveled from his abdomen, across his broad chest to his face. This one had no hair. He had a blind eye, with a huge scar running from there to the ear. The clone's good eye looked you up and down, literally.

"I'm fine… sorry… I-"

You were shocked by the image of both men. Could it be they who your friend had spoken of?

You can barely complete your sentence when interrupted by a clone next to you.

"Well well. The scientist and her laboratory freaks. How comical..."

He didn't even stop to stare at you, being followed by two other clones who clearly enjoyed the bad joke.

The men beside you clenched their fists and the bigger one growled, taking long, heavy strides in front of you, until he was stopped by the tattooed-faced clone, who practically jumped in front of him, bracing a hand on his chest.

"Forget it, Wrecker. It's not worth it… and we can't take another warning for assault in the cafeteria."

The taller one nodded a few seconds later, clearly disappointed not to get his hands on his attacker.

With slow steps, you approached them, curious and also irritated by the other clone's words.

"Idiots."

You huffed, crossing your arms over your voluminous breasts.

"You are the new squad the others are talking about, aren't you?"

There was a certain wonder in your voice now.

"Force Clone 99, doctor!"

The two said in chorus, with clear pride in their words and saluting.

"The rest of the team is going through the assessment upstairs. Miraculously we both got through!"

Said the taller clone, with humor in his voice, pulling a smirk from the tattooed clone.

You smiled, even more in awe of them. They were beautiful, unique and not "sloppy".

"Nice to meet you Hunter and… Wrecker, isn't it? My name is Y/N, I work in the lab."

The two looked at each other, minimally polite treatment to the clones was a little rare around here.

"We've heard about you. Won't you give me a warning? For… bumping into you?"

Hunter was a little suspicious, moving closer to you, watching your forehead. Looking for any evidence of injury.

"Oh no, of course not. It was an accident. I also barely looked where I was going."

You tried to be as gentle as possible, despite your brow and nose bothering you, already realizing that it couldn't be too easy for them to get along with each other. You continued:

"Trust me, I know what it's like to be bothered all the time by little jokes and to have people pick on me out of simple dislike. I'm not like the rest of the employees."

Wrecker approached you, already with a content expression on his face.

"There is! I liked her! At least someone here doesn't hate us!"

The clone pulled you into a hug, pressing his side with yours. You blushed a little, as physical contact was never common with you.

Hunter continued with a suspicious expression and his arms now crossed, making him even more imposing, just taking the look off your face, when the communicator you carried in your pocket beeped.

Brought out of your reverie by Wrecker's tight embrace and Hunter's form, you picked up your communicator to read the newly arrived messages.

"Uh… I need to go. Nala Se never give me a break. See you later guys. Hope to meet the rest of you!"

You headed towards the exit, leaving a sympathetic smile as you left the clones. They were still there, trying to absorb how kind you, a scientist, were to them.

[katsukikitten]

Back at it again since tumblr didnt want me in the tags the first time

Bakugou was irritable today. Not that his irritability was anything new but every little thing set his skill crawling. His forearms littered with threatening pops as he bared his teeth to anyone brave enough to look his way. 

He figured the only way to get his agitation out was to hit something, anything.

 So he headed to one of the two closest gyms from his small apartment to blow off some much needed steam. The local 24 hour gym that was open to the public was a no go, not just because it was always over crowded but also because he got banned after cussing out some damn extras who were snapping pictures of him instead of working out like one should. Leaving his only other option to be the agency's "gym". 

When he first set foot into the sorry excuse of a gym he demanded a better upgrade for it, if they expected to keep him and Kirishima in top shape. Otherwise he would begin to look elsewhere considering other agencies were dying to have the newest upcoming pro hero in their rankings. The agency obliged, delivering his expectations and more in less than a week. Guess being in the top five really did have its perks. 

The ash blonde pulls his shiny new coupe into the parking garage and finds a spot closest to the entrance. He grabs for his water bottle from the passenger seat before exiting the car, locking his black beauty as he made his way inside.  He swipes his fob over the keypad before it beeps while flashing green, allowing him entrance to the back door of the basement. Walking past the long corridor of support labs that had long since closed to get to the gym. The rooms illuminated by the low light of locked computers, secrets and redesigns stowed away behind bullet proof glass. 

Nearing the end of the dimly lit hall he spies harsh light flooding onto the linoleum floor, indicating that someone seemed to be collecting some major overtime. From his experiences at UA he figured each room would be filled to the brim with over eager support, eccentrically yelling at one another over specs and improvements, sharing their love of science at a volume much too high for Bakugou's taste. Shortly after his hero debut he discovered just how wrong he was about the support labs. He had needed a 2am, mid shift, costume adjustment so he came here, expecting the place to be brimming with brilliant minds only to find one person still working. 

So it should be no surprise that at 10:30 at night there was one room that was clearly occupied. Still a rare curiosity takes over the hot head as he peeks into the room while passing, wondering if he will catch a glimpse of you again. 

He found you odd, as you seemed to be nocturnal or better yet maybe you didn't sleep at all. No need for it as your hunger for knowledge seemed to outweigh any basic human need.

Bakugou had only seen you a handful of times, here and there in passing towards the gym at all hours of the day and night. Maybe it was just coincidence that he would find you hunched over something with this gleam in your eye as you destroyed and rebuilt the item over and over again.  

He shakes his head, he doesn't get it. Doesn't get why you dedicate so much time when no one else in your department seemed to give as much of a damn as you did. Or maybe he did get it, maybe it was similar to how he pushes himself so he can be number one, except yours was just for intellectual stimulation. 

After an hour and a half of throwing weights and punches around and becoming heavily drenched in sweat, Bakugou finally calls it a night. Gulping water from his water bottle before wiping at the sheen that collected on his forehead. He sighs out, before catching himself in the mirror. Smirking as he flexes, letting go a few pops. Admiring not only his improved physique but also his new hair style. Sides faded but top long, ash strands looking borderline messy, as if someone had just caught him and a lover kissing heavily in a dark hall during a house party, their fingers desperately pulling at his hair. 

He reaches for the ceiling in a grunting stretch as a yawn forces its way out. He leaves the gym, switching off the lights before making his way back to the parking garage. A furrow of his brow as he notices the light to your lab is still on, maybe you had forgotten to kill the light when you left or maybe you were still tinkering away.  Crimson eyes peer into the room, spying you as you begin to stretch. Your eyes latch onto his as he watches your expression go from concentrated to elated. You jump from your seat, causing Bakugou's brow to furrow more before you're flinging open the door and yanking at his wrist.

"Wow what are the odds?! Well I guess they would be around 4.64% considering you don't normally frequent this gym but I should also factor in your recent ban raising it up to.." 

"Oi, shitty woman, quit the nerd talk!" He yanks his wrist from your small, delicate hands. Totally unsure of what your name is and even if he did know it, he would sooner address you with an insult than your family name. 

"Ah I forget, not everyone loves numbers. But still I am quite lucky tonight." You beam up at him, hair threatening to fall loose from its haphazardly shaped bun, "You're just the man I needed to see, Bakugou." 

He isn't sure why but a faint blush creeps to his cheeks, was it your bright smile that threw him so off guard or was it the way your lips formed around his name?

He sucks his teeth, looking away from you with crossed arms. 

"Well I'm sweaty as fuck, so you really don't need me." He huffs but before he can turn on his heel you're clamping cool black metal to his forearms. You guide him to the door to the testing area of your lab, turning his arms this way and that to make sure your measurements are perfect as you ramble on. 

"No! No! That is the perfect condition for this experiment. I've been working on your winter costume since there are deficiencies with your current one. Since you, and I'm sure you already know, sweat less in the winter there needs to be some sort of counter balance to offset the possibility of little to no stored sweat. Preventive measures could be made sure and you collect sweat from previous activities but 'stale' sweat does not ignite as quickly or as violently as fresh sweat. One could argue that using heavier and denser materials could help aid in more sweat production but this risks overheating should a mission need you inside or a rapid change in environment all together outweight any benefit. So not only are these bracers less obnoxious than your gauntlets, no offense, but they collect 56 to even 62% more of expandable sweat compared to the normal 54% all while reducing the amount needed for ignition. Sure my colleagues could say that's a marginal improvement at best but…" Heat radiates off of him in waves, pulling your eye upwards. You're met with a red hot gaze that seems to rake over your skin. An odd chill runs down your spine as you realize your mistake. 

Nerd talk.  And rambling nerd talk at that. 

All the while Bakugou wonders why your hands are so damn cold and yet they feel good, soothing to his warmed skin. Refreshing even as it reminds him of a passing breeze in the summer or hiding in the shade from the sun.

A bit of heat rushes into your cheeks as you suddenly realize how close you are to THE Ground Zero. Someone who you knew so intimately through paper and yet knew nothing about all at the same time. You knew his measurements, the circumference of his head, his biceps, the number of inches around his thighs. Hell, you had them memorized since the big boss upstairs assigned you his costume and accessories well over a year ago. And yet you couldn't even fathom to name his favorite color or favorite food for that matter.

You swallow thickly, clearing your throat as you move on, dropping his deadly hands as you do.

"Ah, anyway, these bracers are designed to help with not only better sweat collection in both summer and winter but to aid in some stealth missions as they make no sound compared to your heavy gauntlets." You smile at him once more causing his stomach to flip before those small icy hands press harshly into his toned hot back, pushing him into the testing chamber behind diamond glass. 

"I just need you to test them. I need to make sure they can withstand your heat and power." With that you shut him away, quickly trotting to the mic on the other side. Pressing the button to speak as he turns his arms over looking at the smooth black material 

"Now, remember, it takes less sweat. So don't go all out!" At first you worry it falls on deaf ears before he gives a nod your way. Suddenly you are in awe of the power house that stands before you as his expression changes from utter agitation to complete determined focus, all with something as simple as a deep breath out. He focuses on producing enough sweat to ignite, calling on his quirk as if it were an extension of himself. Pooling it onto his skin, permeating the air with the slight smell of burnt sugar before he let's go a small pop. 

But the medium sized explosion he had expected was anything but what was produced.  Suddenly the brace on his arm explodes from the pressure as does the diamond glass in the room. Fear grips Bakugou as shards of glass go flying towards you before you flick your wrist harshly.  

The deadly shards bypass you, glistening shrapnel sinks deeply into the tile floor around you like a piece of jagged art.

And yet you seem unphased, delighted even as a manic smile paints your lips before it sours. Eyes noticing that the bracer barely stood up to the challenge. 

"Fuck…the density still cannot withstand the joules output or force that Bakugou is capable of…" A string of murmurs that remind him all too much of Deku as your fingers curl in the air, calling forth the failed experiment with unseen forces. The blonde long forgotten as you hunch over the workbench, going back to square one. 

Crimson eyes dissect your form and actions as you pull various books and tools towards you with the influence of your quirk, hovering around the work space. 

Suddenly you feel heat radiating behind you when normally you're enveloped in the cool air of the air conditioning, kept extra low in the labs to prevent overheating of parts. You look over your shoulder, suddenly remembering the Pro hero who's beginning to wonder why you're in support with a quirk like that. 

"I know, I know. The last bus and train left hours ago. I'll catch them in the morning." You guess at why he's lingering as you wave him off with your hand. He's caught off guard by your statement before he notices the clock, going to open his mouth to scold before snapping it shut. 

Why should he care if you work through the night? What was he gonna do? Offer you a ride when he didn't even know your name? 

He sucks his teeth biting out as he leaves. 

"Just call me when you're ready to test these again." 

Weeks pass and it's as you never left the lab. Glued to the same spot as he tests the product every other week only for you to grow more and more frustrated with each failure punctuated by shattered bracers. 

And every time he enters the lab room he learns something new about you. He can tell when or if you've left the lab for longer than a few minutes by how tidy the space is or lack thereof. A chaotic circle encompasses you filled with random items that you hope will ignite a spark of inspiration. Anything from books to thin sheets of metal and even to soft fabrics that haphazardly lay atop metal tools. Anything one could possibly imagine was probably there, sitting along-side several empty cups that once held iced coffee. He notices the bags beneath your eyes as they darken with each passing week and he's beginning to wonder if you've ever left as he leaves anywhere between 12 to 3am most nights. 

Tonight is no different as he makes his way to the gym at midnight while you're hunched over his bracers. A part of him wants to tell you to stop being an idiot, to rip you from your little stool and drag you to your bed or wherever the fuck you'll sleep as the other part points out 'why do you fucking care?' So he watches silently, eyes fixated on you until he runs out of glass to look through before he locks himself away in the gym. 

Bakugou puts in his black wireless earbuds before cranking his music up, tossing his phone onto a nearby workbench. He stretches this way and that, reaching for the sky as he looks at his form in the mirror, his hard earned V and bottom two abs wink at his reflection beneath his signature black tank top and his black hoodie. 

His fist connects easily with the heavy black bag suspended by a large chain. The sandbag swings back and forth with a creak with each heavy handed blow. Bakugou loses time with each kick and hit thrown at the bag, each passing song fueling his desire to melt his frustration until his hair is plastered to his forehead. He lets out a steadying breath as his heart roars in his chest,he rears his fist back for a final blow backed by a bit of his quirk. It connects with the well worn leather with such force a weak link in the chain snaps as the fabric obliterates, the 200lb bag flies into the mirror behind it. Shards of reflective glass glitter as they rain onto the matted floor. 

"Fuck." He huffs, stretching and turning to the opposite mirror. Sending a quick snap of his tongue out with the caption "Oops" as the background showcases the decimated gym to Kirishima. He picks up his bag, removing his ear buds to be met with the cool air of the hallway. 

Your light is still on causing him to grind his teeth as his phone reads 2:45am. He's angry enough he chooses to avoid looking into your enclosure as he walks past, fearful his sharp tongue will give him away. He misses you perk up, frantically waving for him to come in before you're at the door, flinging it open to yell out much too loudly in the empty halls. 

"Bakugou!" Your voice is hoarse and cracks from disuse before you clear your throat, lightly jogging to catch up to his large stride, "I've done it!" 

He ignores you, lips pursed in a tight line before your cold hand wraps tightly around his wrist. Pulling him back to the lab with eager steps. He rips away his wrist with a growl and follows you reluctantly, you seem unphased by his harsh actions. 

"I've finally perfected it. I'm sure this time. I was looking at it all wrong. Larger surface area does not always equate to better absorption. Not to mention the pressure for the explosions beneath the bracer is what was causing the failure in the first place. A marginal error that I should have caught earlier. This new design covers less than 15% of your skin but increases…." You ramble but it all falls on deaf ears. 

Bakugou sees that your hair is so loose in its ponytail it might as well be down. The bags beneath your eyes weigh heavy on your pretty features, your skin showing signs of dehydration as it seems to have lost some of its elasticity. Your lab coat is wrinkled and your nametag, that you're wearing for once, is pinned on upside down. He commits your name to memory although he finds it odd that it must be your first name instead of your family name, then again you do hail from overseas. As the two of you walk into your lab he realizes instantly that it has become your main living space. Shards of diamond glass still litter your floor, there is no rhyme or reason to the placement of objects.  Tools, and trash commingle in dangerous piles and stacks around the room. Something knits itself as it floats in the air, wavering a bit when you pause your rambling to yawn.

"Oi nerd!" Bakugou's voice is sharp, authoritative as he grips onto your wrist. Eyes still washing over the room before they land on you. Somehow you're too daft or too tired to pick up on his concern. 

"Yea yea nerd talk. I fucking get it." A half snap from your exhaustion, "Just…" 

You lose his grip before grabbing onto his arm, finding a mesh woven bracer somehow on that disastrous desk. It seems to be made of a soft, elastic fabric as you slip it over his thick forearm after shoving away his sweatshirt sleeve.

"Perfect, your sweat output was pretty close to max earlier. I could smell caramel from the gym. This is going to be so fucking great!" You giggle in delight as the other mesh bracer finishes itself, dropping before you frantically reach for it. He notices your faulty step, your under the breath curse and the long moment your eyes flutter. He almost bites his tongue clean off. 

Again your cool hands find his burning skin as you try to keep your tired brain focused on the task at hand and not how his forearms have grown nearly a half inch since your first encounter. It's difficult not to fall victim to his intoxicating smell as you force yourself to not sway on your feet and collapse into a lovely muscular man. His heat seems to have some sort of affect on you, causing an odd affinity between you both.

"Okay all done! Please give a medium sized blast!" You encourage, shoving him into the testing chamber as he glares down at you. He isn't sure why your chaotic state is bothering him but it does. He rolls his eyes as you slam the door shut. He brings clarity to his mind, focusing on his quirk and how the sweat feels against his skin. How it yearns to be something more, to explode into a whispering flame that may catch something ablaze. 

He gives in, just a little, giving it what it wants, igniting it with a simple thought. An explosion he would have considered large if he were still at UA but since all he's done is grow these past five years, earning him the number 3 rank, it comes to no surprise when the glass shatters yet again. 

Except this time you're too entranced with the smoke clearing, of seeing if your baby you've slaved over has made it through to comprehend the sharp threat. You notice the flying glass a moment too late, flicking your wrist to change the trajectory from what was supposed to be your entire body but your arms are grazed by the razor sharp shards. You grit your teeth, cursing to yourself calling forth a first aid kit. 

But nothing shows up in your peripheral except for a looming presence. One you give your back to in order to find the first aid kit with your gaze, when was the last time you ever had to look at something to summon it? 

Damn it, how could you be experiencing quirk failure from exhaustion right now? Sure it took a lot of brain power for your quirk but it takes weeks of no sleep for a failure plus you had been eating...your eyes glance around the room. You hadn't been eating, or so it says from the lack of any sort of plate or take out aside from your iced coffees with the added protein and carbohydrate shots your body needed to process your quirk with ease. 

Fuck, guess it really was quirk failure. You bite your lip, unable to find that damned kit hoping the hot head wouldn't catch on to your short coming. 

Vermillion eyes watch crimson spots bloom across the white fabric of your coat. He grinds his teeth, searching for the first aid kit only to find it knocked beneath a shelf. He rights himself, stalking your way with a grimace just to stop in his tracks. He watches you slip your oversize jacket off of strong shoulders, toned arms adorned with several thin slices that weep red, but what has really caught his attention was that body con dress. 

Sticking to you like a second skin, but looking somehow comfortable at the same time, he wonders for a moment if you've made it yourself. It's similar to the fabric used to make his shirts, breathable, soft, always smelling a bit sweet like you when they are fresh from the lab. His hand twitches as he can imagine how supple your curves would feel in the delicate yet sturdy material, palm already too familiar with the soft sensation. Red catches his eye once again pulling him from the trance that is your body. He sneers at the cuts as he grabs onto your cold shoulder, shoving you into your chair so he can work on you. You look up a bit shocked with a pinch of anger mixed in and a dash of hurt pride. He takes no notice as he wraps bandages tight around your arms, your eyes locked onto the bracers. The smile on your face cannot be helped as you stare proudly at your work, it was able to withstand so much power and remain not only in tact but unsinged. You grab onto his wrist turning it this way and that, a pen and pad float near by as you take notes. Bakugou cannot hide his astonishment as he watches the invisible hand borrow your neat yet rushed script as it is unable to keep up with your thoughts. You pull the bracers from his arms, fabric begins to tear itself thread by thread before spooling itself, wrapping around wood as if it were a snake. He pulls away, eyes hard as he talks himself out of whatever the stupid "heroic" side of him is saying. He takes a step back and with it taking his warmth. You shiver but you are too busy to notice, teeth chattering ever so slightly but you're too busy studying. He growls to himself. 

Suddenly you're enveloped in a dizzying sweet smell and warmth, it is then you realize that Bakugou had shoved his hoodie over your head. Slinking your arms into the holes to move the hood of the sweatshirt back, quickly realizing the material is not damp as you had once thought. It's warm from his quirks use, material dry as a bone, reminding you of pulling your favorite blanket fresh from the dryer just to wrap yourself in it as rain taps on the window of your apartment. 

Subconsciously you snuggle into it, opening your mouth to state how much work you have to do but instead you have to stifle a yawn. 

Had the cold of the lab always kept you awake, were you starting to actually feel the weight of your work only because you were warm? 

"I think it's time for bed, nerd." 

He places his hot palm on the back of your neck in a power move as he speaks. He enrages you and entices you all at once as your face snaps up to meet his gaze, your own eyes burning holes into him. He smirks down at you, deciding in this moment that he really likes you.  

"I'm taking you home. Get your shit." He squeezes your nape as a warning. He isn't taking no for an answer.

"I'll take the bus and train in the morning, three hours is child's play." Hitting his hand away, trying to return to your work. He scoffs in response. 

"You sure are oblivious for someone so smart. Tomorrow is Saturday." He crosses his exposed arms, unable to hide his smug smirk as realization washes over your stunning features, "That means the bus won't be in the business district til 10am." 

"I think I'll be okay." You say after a moment of silence, "I've waited longer. Or I could walk..." 

"Will you?" He retorts, "Your office says otherwise." 

You follow his gaze, your entire office in disarray, as if a bomb went off. 

You guess in a sense one had gone off. Biting your lip as you mull it over, eyes finding Bakugou's file shuffled across your desk, spying your own hand written cliff notes. 

Stubborn your script reads, you sigh admitting defeat as you wave your hand over the file. It tidies itself, papers folding neatly back into the Manila folder before you snap your fingers. 

Bakugou watches items soar around the room, books fighting and bickering over their order, pens and pencils long forgotten in corners of the room race back to their place on your desk. Papers flutter and fall into the trash or shredder in defeat as plastic cups sink into the plastic bin in the corner. The diamond glass follows suit as your own hands grab onto the bracers, giving them a gentle squeeze before you access an invisible drawer on your desk, hiding away your project before pushing it back. Wood flush against wood as if there were no drawer at all. 

A question burns on the tip of Bakugou's tongue, it dies in his throat for now as a new one is born. 

"That Kirishima's faceplate?" The question comes out in the form of a bite, for some reason the thought of his more likeable friend coming in here as often as Bakugou has set his blood boiling. 

"Ah yes, I just got this assignment from the big boss. Kirishima's new unbreakable breaks his faceplate everytime. Otto had it before me, which was odd. He is more of a reverse engineer. Taking an unknown material and figuring out how it works." Your eyes linger over the empty office across the way, "But he's been out and Kirishima can apparently no longer be on the back burner. Especially now that I've finished with the company's top hero." 

His heart melts just a bit as he watches a smidge of pride form in your dazzling eyes. He scoffs to change the topic.

"Come on, shitty woman." He guides you to the parking garage. 

Once there he acts out of character. At least what you would believe to be out of character as he holds open the door to his car for you, waiting for you to step in. 

"What?! I ain't fucking kidnapping you but I ain't letting you weasel out of this shit either." He growls, waiting impatiently by the door. You step in as he gently shuts the door behind you. He steps in himself, the engine purrs to life as you give him your address. 

"That far out? And you were gonna fucking walk?" He laughs, "Hell no, never again. You'll call me before you do that next time." 

"I don't have your number asshole." You grumble to yourself but he grabs your unlocked phone from your hands, plugging in his number and calling it. 

"There now you do." He locks it and puts it in his cup holder, demanding your attention. No longer can he keep that burning question to himself, "Why are you on support?" 

It puzzles you for a second before you realize he means it as a compliment to your quirk and not an insult to your intellect. 

"Oh that's easy. Being a hero wouldn't benefit me, it's too restrictive. I'm more of a…." You ponder on your words, vigilante was wrong, you wouldn't take justice into your own hands for the sake of others and villain was too strong, "Chaotic neutral. My moral compass is pretty grey and being in this lab benefits my need for knowledge." 

Bakugou glances your way, respectful of your honesty while your eyes become heavy watching the street lights blur, the hum of the engine pulling you deeper into relaxation.  There was something about a car ride that took you back to your childhood days in America.  The outskirts of the city would quickly wind into back roads lined with corn stalks that scrapped the sky. 

The street lights slowly became fewer and farther in between as the black coupe took you further from the heart of the city, soon more stars began to dot the sky.  You see just the tip of his zodiac constellation, it stirs a question within you. 

"So why do you want to be a hero?" You keep your eyes focused on the backdrop that lies beyond the tinted glass, missing Bakugou's knuckles turn stark white. 

He doesn't speak and that's answer enough for you.  

It took him an hour to get to your side of town, an hour. One you had said you would walk, one you mentioned you had walked before. He pulls up the sidewalk by your building, turning to you. 

"We're here…" His announcement turns into a sigh as he sees your slumped form. Head limp but thankfully not leaning on the glass as you're snuggled into his hoodie. You're murmuring how you need to update your measurements in your sleep causing Bakugou to roll his eyes. He pulls away to parallel park. He debates, should he wake you? 

No, who's to say you wouldn't attempt tor eturn to your work? He sighs, pocketing your phone and pulling the lanyard out of your purse that has, what he assumes,your house key on it. 

Katsuki's blood runs ice cold in his veins as realization sucker punches him square in the chest. He had NO fucking idea which apartment was yours. He turns your key over and over but why would that have the number on it? 

"Fuck." He would have to pray your mailbox was both clearly labeled and inside. He shoulders your purse before scooping you into his arms, sure to cradle you like the princess you are. 

He steps through the automatic doors, relief washes over him as a wall of mail boxes greet him. Better yet, they were neatly labeled with names AND apartment numbers.

But it is not long lived as his red eyes rake over the names, the family names, last names. He only knew your first and of course, of fucking course the Gods would laugh at him as panic rises in his throat. You had to have the most common first initial didn't you?  He had spotted it six times already but none of the last names seemed out of the ordinary, if anything they were all ordinary, run of the mill Japanese last names. Nothing foreign about them. 

"Fuck." He murmurs, plan B wouldn't work either, he can't just try out every fucking apartment with your first initial, how weird would that be, some guy shoving keys in random doors with a passed out woman in his arms. 

"Fuck." He cusses again. Was he going to have to take you to his apartment? Fuck, fuck fuck! He couldn't do that, the press slunk around his apartment like vultures, even at this hour.

"Oh you must be the guy that's been keeping her up so late at night." A voice sounds behind him, he turns towards the sound. A smaller young man smiles at him as if he and Bakugou share an inside joke. 

"Quite nice of you to bring her home, and get her mail." He laughs softly reaching for something in the desk, he approaches slowly, "But she must have forgotten to tell you she lost her key a couple of weeks ago. She always asks me to get the mail instead of paying the lost key fee. Don't blame her though." 

The desk clerk, Wantanabe, rambles on as Bakugou's sharp eyes watch closely. Silently thanking the Gods' for their blessing as he watches Watanabe slide the spare key into your mail slot. He commits your last name to memory, but more importantly 5C burns into his retinas. 

"...she hasn't been home in four weeks,  so she has a lot of mail." That snaps Bakugou back to the present, a small stack of mail is presented to him. He stares down at your form unable to keep the scowl off of his face. The dark circles beneath your eyes seem to become darker by the second. 

"Thanks." He growls through gritted teeth, snatching the mail as best he can without disturbing you. He looks for an elevator and when he sees he will have to climb five flights of stairs he wonders if this is the reason you don't come home often. 

Soon enough 5C is staring Bakugou in the face. He is hesitant, even if he does bring you home safely he wonders if you would misread his actions. As the saying goes, no good deed goes unpunished. Still his hands move quickly, sliding the key into the door and unlocking your mysteries. The apartment is sizable for the area, clean at least what he can see from the light of the hall flooding in. He flips on a switch with his elbow, he expected harsh light but instead ambient string lights that line the ceiling illuminate the space in a warm light. A three chair island with a marble water fall looks out into the living room, a large sectional couch swallows the space, a TV atop a nice entertainment table while books litter the coffee table and one part of the couch. The apartment feels as if it had been warmed by the sun through the drawn curtains but not overly hot, it feels cozy really.  As if Bakugou could imagine himself spread out on the grey sofa while you're curled against him, half dozing half reading your book. 

The thought jarrs him, he feels too close to you now, feverish almost as he rips your key from the door, shutting it softly before placing the lanyard onto the kitchen island. He spies a hall and passes a full bath, then a freshly vacant guest room to see a final door closed that he assumes is the master. He flips the switch and again light snakes around the ceiling washing the room in this comfort. He can understand the soft yellow lights considering you spend forty plus hours beneath harsh, bleaching white lights. He pulls back the comforter as best he can and lies you down gently. He removes your red bottom heels and praises the Kamisama when he sees you do not have on tights not that he would remove them anyway. You snuggle deeper into his hoodie, smiling as you do, dreaming of whatever little scientist's dream about. Katsuki imagines it's all math, measurements, molecular structures, nerd shit. You begin to murmur in your sleep.

"...gotta update his chart…" 

"Fucking nerd." Bakugou smiles to himself, you look peaceful even as your mind races with reminders. Another snuggle deeper into his hoodie, he goes to reach out to push hair from your face and stops himself. 

"What the fuck am I doing?" He growls aloud, he doesn't know you. Barely figured out your last name and that was by both chance and stupidity on the desk clerk's. He heads for your bedroom door, stopping with his hand gripping the handle. He peers over his shoulder before killing the switch, flooding your room with darkness. 

He shuts the door and with it the odd ache that's growing in his chest. 

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Lucien’s R&S - The victim who disappeared (Eng Translation)

🍒This R&S (消失的遇难者) was part of the Dream Heart Lake event which will unlikely come to EN🍒

Angst warning!

More Lucien R&S from this event:

> regarding what books don’t say (important to read this first!)

> my love rival older brother

> the victim who disappeared ♡

> since that rainy night

[ Chapter One ]

Recently, the girls in the precinct have been addicted to a variety program called “Miracle Finder”. When it’s time for lunch, there’d be a bunch of them piling in front of the computer screen, watching and exclaiming.

Filled with curiosity, I lean over to take a look. The girls immediately stop me, recommending it fervently.

“Captain Fan, do you watch this program too?”

“This week’s guest is Professor Lucien. He looks so handsome!”

I shake my head in resignation. “You girls only know how to look at appearances the whole day.”

“Captain Fan, you can’t say that! Our Professor Lucien became a neurologist at a very young age.”

“Exactly, exactly! He’s also a guest professor at Loveland University!”

“Sigh. If I had such a handsome teacher back then, I’d have definitely worked hard.”

Watching the girls chat, I can’t help but tease them. “Don’t all of you have an even more handsome-looking superior? It isn’t too late to start working now.”

The moment I finish speaking, their exclamations completely cover my words. Seems like the young and gifted “Professor Lucien” they’ve been talking about has appeared on the screen. Seeing his refined manner and gentle appearance, I actually feel a sense of familiarity.

“Hurry and look! Even Captain Fan is dazed!”

“We were right, weren’t we? Doesn’t he have an especially good temperament!”

The crinkled and smiling eyes of that boy in my memories overlap with the person on screen. That unresolved case which almost disappeared finally has a favourable turn after so many years. Even though I know that the chances are slim, I still wish to grasp this new lead.

“What’s his name again?”

“Oh? Wasn’t Captain Fan completely uninterested just now?” The girls notice the change in my attitude, becoming enthusiastic in an instant. They start introducing him, their words pouring out in an unceasing torrent. “His name is Lucien, a neurologist who returned after studying abroad. I heard that the thesis he released at twenty was published in an internationally renowned science magazine...”

“Isn’t he just as intelligent as that boy?” I mutter softly, the hope in my heart brightening by a few notches.

Although the name doesn’t fit, if that child managed to survive after that incident 19 years ago, it feels as though he would have gone down such a life path.

“Uncle has worked very hard. Kid, have you been doing your best over the years too?”

Even though I’m unable to find concrete evidence to make public the incident 19 years ago, the least I could do is to shed some light on the truth concerning that kid and his family. 

In the midst of a cruel reality mixed with tears and blood, and the truth which cannot be found, the me of the past finally decided to step out of the days of living in a wasteland, plunging deeper into a depthless pool of truth.

-

[ Chapter Two ]

At night, I dreamt of that day yet again.

It was that boy’s 7th birthday.

Early in the morning on that day, he had headed out with his parents. Before he left, he specially gave me an invitation card to his birthday party in the evening.

He rarely revealed the innocent smile a kid should have. Instead, his mouth remained merciless, saying something unadorable. “I’ve already spoken with my dad. Tonight, he can tell you how to play chess. If you don't improve in your chess skills, I won’t know how to play with you anymore.”

I snatched the invitation card in his hand in an impolite manner, deliberately provoking him. “You’ll have to make do with it, little genius. I’m the only one who’s willing to play with you.”

In a huff, he ran over to where his parents were waiting for him not afar off. Taking their hands, they left while talking and laughing.

I rarely saw this busy couple accompanying their child outside over the weekend. They must have taken a day off from work specially for his birthday.

“Kid, have fun!”

“Mm.”

“Also, happy birthday!”

“Thank you, Brother Fan.”

His parents and him turned around to wave goodbye at me, the three of their smiles under the sunlight, sparkling and bright.

On hindsight, I should have given him his present then.

It was a sci-fi novel which was popular amongst kids, and I’d frequently see children gathered in the yard discussing it together. Although I didn’t know if that kid liked reading other books aside from those profound science materials, I felt it wouldn’t hurt for him to engage with things people his age liked.

He was still a child. From the bottom of my heart, I hoped that he could live a little more like a child.

However, this wish that I never said aloud was completely shattered by that car accident.

That evening, which should have filled with presents, cake, and the sound of birthday songs, only welcomed pattering and whistling rain, as well as blood stains on the asphalt road which couldn’t be washed off even with a scrub.

Sirens from the ambulance and police cars intertwined. Mixed with the sharp cries of passers-by, they composed the saddest and shrillest background music.

-

[ Chapter Three ]

“Oh my goodness, that’s so horrifying! Those two people are covered in blood!”

“Let’s leave, it’s too pitiful.”

The crowd in the surroundings remarked in soft voices, showing sympathy towards the victims they weren’t acquainted with.

The incident happened on the road outside our estate. After receiving the task, I rushed over to the scene. When I saw the names of the casualties, I was both shocked and had a flicker of hope in my heart, praying that they were people who happened to share the same names. However, after confirming the identities of the two bodies underneath the white cloth, coldness rushed through my body--

Those were the parents of the little genius.

In just the blink of an eye, the couple who had greeted me with warm smiles had turned ice cold, lying in a pool of blood. I didn’t dare to imagine how such a young kid would be able to face such a cruel reality, and my insuppressible tears, along with the rain, drenched my face.

The captain came over to pat me on the shoulder, consoling me with a lowered voice. “Settle your emotions, and do a proper investigation.”

I nodded my head silently, lifting my hand to wipe my tears away. After that, I started taking down records of what the witness had to say.

The witness was a boss of a news-stand nearby, around 45 years of age. He was in a state of fright, hugging his elbows and shivering.

I asked if he needed a rest before supplementing the record, but he shook his head repeatedly, saying that it’d be better to record it early, since he wouldn’t want to recollect such a horrifying image afterwards.

According to his description, the cause of the accident was a large truck which had lost control. It was yet to be confirmed whether the reason for the loss of control was due to a human error, or the slippery road.  

After realising that there was an issue with the truck, the driver had frantically tried to turn. But in the end, it still ended up hitting the family of three who were walking on the zebra crossing.

The three of them were sent flying a great distance. The places where they fell turned into pools of blood not long after.

As for what happened after, the boss of the news-stand expressed that he didn’t pay attention due to fright.

After handing him over to the medical personnel to console his emotions, I continued making notes for the next witness.

The images described by all the witnesses were virtually the same. From the various indications of the scene, this tragedy could have been a normal traffic accident.

When I finished making the records, the scene was more or less cleaned up. After wrapping up my work, I inquired about which hospital the boy was taken to. But I was notified that no injured child was found on the scene.

“How’s that impossible! That sketchbook over there belongs to him! That boy suffered such grave injuries - where else could he have gone!”

Agitatedly, I pointed at the exhibits collected, one of them a sketchbook coated in blood. At a glance, I recognised it as the book that boy would carry with him all day. That’s because the flower garland on the cover was a work he was proud of, and it was exactly the same as the one drawn on his birthday invitation card this morning.

He was definitely at the scene when the accident happened. Also, he definitely couldn’t have left on his own.

“Has the scene been investigated? Are there any other suspicious areas or areas we’ve overlooked?”

"Didn’t all the witnesses say there was a family of three at the scene? There’s definitely one more kid!”

“How much time passed after the incident before the scene was cordoned off? Could the kid have been taken away before that?”

I tossed out points of contention in succession, but the expressions of my colleagues remained confused and blank. In a moment of anxiousness, I burned with impatience and went to check the surveillance tape on my own. However, I didn’t notice any suspicious people entering or exiting the scene before or after the incident.

I didn’t have a single clue regarding his whereabouts, and could only hold onto hope as I contacted his relatives one by one.

They were generally not from the city. Most of them didn’t even know that the family had met with an accident, much less the whereabouts of the boy. After consoling their emotions, I hang up dejectedly, turning back to the scene of the incident.

The police cars stationed around earlier had long since left, and traces left on the asphalt road had been washed clean by the rain. Everything returned to peace and quiet, as though nothing had happened. Only the lingering grief served as a reminder that it wasn’t over yet--

The sudden car accident, the missing child, the ignorant relatives - all of these seemed to remind me that this wasn’t a simple traffic incident.

Without any orderliness, I started investigating the vicinity, imagining countless times for that smart fellow to suddenly lunge out from a dark corner, telling me that this whole thing was just a prank he pulled.

However, that didn’t happen. Even after checking every corner of the large streets and small alleys, I ended up empty-handed.

In the end, I sat down tiredly along the side of the road, looking at the pitch-black sky as it started turning into a grey dawn.

Although it was dawn, the truth of the matter would forever be hidden in that dark night.

All my hopes and hopelessness fell into pieces, leaving behind a maze of doubts, akin to a dense fog.

-

[ Chapter Four ]

On the morning of the second day, without even washing my face, I headed to the news-stand to buy various newspapers, looking through them seriously to search for any reports on the matter.

As it was temporarily classified as a normal traffic accident, the length of all the articles were very short. Also, they were placed in nondescript corners.

I closed the final set of newspapers, realising in disappointment that none of them mentioned the missing child.

It’s as though he had evaporated from the world. Aside from me, no one else remembered his existence. 

I couldn't stand for the case to be closed just like this, and finally understood the anxiety family members felt when they asked for our help in conducting investigations. As long as it was related to a living person, there wasn’t anything not worth investigating.

With a determination to investigate the matter and leave no stone unturned, I once again returned to the scene of the accident. I asked around the small shops along the roadside, hoping to obtain just a tiny hint.

Heaven will not disappoint the person who tries. From the lips of an owner of the shop facing the zebra crossing, I received an important lead which wasn’t brought up before - a black car.

“When the accident occurred, I was busy, and even had a scare when I heard the truck braking. By the time I set down my stuff to watch, the police cars and ambulance weren’t here yet. But a black car was stationed here for quite some time.”

Regarding this lead, I first expressed shock. Then, I had doubts.

Based on the surveillance tape I watched on the day of the incident, no suspicious cars appeared. If this person deliberately toggled with the surveillance footage to capture the kid, the remaining investigations would likely be a bitter struggle.

“Why did he take the kid away?”

“Could there be a conspiracy behind this?”

That black car had taken both the truth and that boy, disappearing into thin air.

The scene I had witnessed, the images depicted by the witnesses, the true footage of that surveillance tape, pieces of evidence which weren’t able to fit together, created paradoxes. The entire incident was akin to a vicious cycle, tangled and complicated, twisting and turning, unable to grasp a hint of it, and left one spinning around on a superficial level.

In the end, the police classified this matter as a normal traffic incident. And I could only continue investigating in the dark.

-

[ Chapter Five ]

Many years passed. From a small police officer who had accomplished nothing, I struggled and worked hard, becoming a captain who solved countless cases.

Even so, the unresolved case concerning that boy hasn’t had a breakthrough.

Over ten years, I found some leads, but they would ultimately be flawed fragments. And along with the passage of time, they’ve eroded even more.

This time, the person called “Lucien” was probably the finally hope of this case.

-

I visit Loveland University over the weekend, asking the kids about this “Professor Lucien”, but receive scant results even after a long while. He’s indeed very popular amongst students. But regarding his personal life, everyone expressed that they weren’t clear about it.

“Then again, which student would be so free to ask about a teacher’s personal life?” With a wry smile, I take a seat at the resting area of the math building. Without realising it, someone sits beside me. While feeling puzzled over why someone would choose to sit next to a middle-aged uncle when there are so many other empty chairs around, I see the face of the person I was looking for.

“Lucien?!”

“I heard from the students that you were asking about me. So I thought, why not let you ask me in person directly?” His tone is as calm as what I saw in the program, but I can vaguely sense a hint of irritation.

“Please don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t mean to offend you.” I find an excuse on the fly. “It’s just that after watching your program, there were some issues I didn’t quite understand, and wanted to consult you.”

He listens patiently to the many unorganised questions I have, and explains them thoroughly. That look of concentration makes me think about the boy again.

Finally, I can no longer contain myself. When I’m about to bid farewell to him, I ask, “It might be a little presumptuous of me, but could I ask if you’ve always been living abroad since young?”

There doesn’t seem to be much change in his expression, but he raises his eyebrows slightly.

“In that case, could I be also be presumptuous and ask why you have such a question?

Since things have already reached this stage, I decide that there’s no longer a need to conceal anything. So I tell him the honest truth. “You kind of resemble a kid I used to know, but he’s gone missing.”

Upon hearing this, a sadness dyes his eyes in an instant. He lowers his eyes, his expression sad, as though he had also once known that pitiful child. “I feel deeply sorry for that child... but it’s a shame that I’m not the person you’re looking for. From the moment I could remember, I’ve been living in an orphanage.

“Ah... sorry about that.” I feel uncomfortable knowing that I’ve rubbed someone else’s sore spot. As though he’s talking about matters pertaining to somebody else, he says relaxedly, “It’s all right. I hope you can find that child soon.”

His eyes really do resemble the boy. It’s just that he’s much more modest in how he conducts himself. I increasingly hope that if the boy were still living on this earth, he must definitely be a person who is just as well-liked.

“Many years have passed. To tell you the truth, I think whether or not I find him isn’t that important.” I look into the distance, making a wish from the bottom of my heart. “I just hope that in a corner of the world, he’s living happily and well.”

After Lucien hears this, he chuckles lightly. “I’m almost envious of that boy - that he was able to meet a kind-hearted person who would think of him even after such a long time.”

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Green-Eyed Monster (Ethan x MC)

Summary: During a fundraising event for Edenbrook, Ethan’s jealousy gets the better of him.

Warning: NSFW!! 18+

Author’s Note: I wrote this 3 times. I hope you enjoy

2nd Author’s Note: Ethan is canonically rich. And I like reminding y’all of that fact.

Tags: @fanmantrashcan @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @writinghereandthere @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @lion-ess24 @contrerascecile @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey

~v~

The ballroom of the Four Seasons is lit beautifully, the Dom Perignon is flowing freely, and he has some sort of fancy crab cake in his hand, but Ethan couldn’t care less about any of it.

He hates parties. That’s not a secret, everyone knows it and he’s always been vocal about it. The board thought getting all of Boston’s elite hoarded into one room was a sure fire way to get them to open their pockets. And by the looks of it, it is working. But Ethan doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the pomp, the circumstance, the luxury of this ball, or the money that went into it.

He has eyes one one thing, and one thing only. Or, one woman only. Naomi Valentine.

There aren’t enough words in any of the languages he’s fluent in to describe the way she looks. Her normally curly hair is bone straight, falling right down her back, a few strands tucked behind her ears. He likes it like this, his view of her face unobstructed.

And her dress. Scarlet red, downright sinful, the neckline so deep and plunging, it shouldn’t be legal to wear it in public, the material clinging to her like a second skin.

He’s been quietly observing her all evening, watching as various men - and some women - fawned over her, flirted with her, flaunting their wealth, as if she cared about any of it. The only thing Naomi wants is for these people to write checks and save their place of employment.

She danced with politicians, attorneys, trust fund babies, real estate developers, the works. She’s currently swaying on the dance floor with some guy, though he can she’s not into the dance. The mystery man is talking, but he’s not holding her attention, not in the slightest.

But the mystery man makes a mistake. Ethan watches as his hand slides down her back, landing on the swell of her behind. Not wanting to cause a scene, Naomi simply twists out of his grasp.

Naomi has the situation under control. He sees that clearly, but Ethan doesn’t care. He doesn’t like that someone else is touching her, especially so intimately. Anger swells in the pit of his stomach.

He can’t stop him himself, even though he knows he should. He gets up from his seat at the bar, leaving the tiny crab cake, and marches over to where they’re at.

Wanting to make his presence known, Ethan clears his throat. The action garners Naomi’s attention and she stops dancing.

“Ethan!” She exclaims brightly. “How nice to see you.”

“Rookie,” Ethan greets back, purposely ignoring the man she’s standing next to. “Care to dance?”

“She’s a little busy, pal!” Ethan hears the man talking, his shrill voice a nuisance in Ethan’s ear, but still he pays it no mind.

Naomi is nicer than him though. She smiles at the other gentleman politely. “I’ll save a dance for you, Carl! And you can tell me all about your new yacht.”

That seems to do the trick as the man steps aside and walks off.

Ethan holds out a hand for Naomi, which she eagerly accepts. They begin swaying in time to the music. “You looked like you needed a save. That guy was too handsy.”

“I was managing him just fine, but thank you anyway,” Naomi replies. “He was just so dull. Most of these people are.”

“I’d never know it by looking at you. You have a much better poker face than I do.”

“I grew up around people like this. I know how they operate. Give them a few well-placed compliments, and they’re putty in your hands.”

Ethan doesn’t have a reply for her. He just holds her close, vaguely aware of their surroundings. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Red looks good on you.”

“It happens to be my boyfriend’s favorite color,” Naomi explains, her hand mindlessly stroking the back of Ethan’s tuxedo jacket. “I wanted something to really wow him tonight. Do you think it’s working?”

“Oh you have no idea how well your plan is working, Rookie.”

She pulls back only slightly, looking at Ethan’s face. His blue eyes have grown darker. “I think I have some idea the effect I have on him.”

Three months. It’s been three months since that fateful night at Ethan’s apartment where he kissed her. After that, the doctors decided to see if their mutual attraction towards one another was worth exploring.

And while no one else knows of the relationship, opting to keep it just between them for as long as they could, Naomi and Ethan had never been happier.

“You look so beautiful tonight, and every guy in here is ogling you.”

“Ogling?” Naomi rolls her eyes. Ethan could be so dramatic when he wanted.

“Yes, ogling. I’m not a fan of it.”

“Well, you’re going to absolutely hate what happens later,” Naomi says with a sigh.

“Why, what happens later?”

“The auction.” Naomi swallows hard. “I’m one of the doctors participating in the people auction.”

“What?”

“My friends all volunteered, and they signed me up as well. I couldn’t say no, they all think I’m single and it’d just raise too many questions.”

Ethan frowns. The thought of these rich scumbags fighting over a chance to take his girlfriend out on a date didn’t sit well with him. It was annoying enough not being the only one she danced with throughout the evening.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Naomi continues. “But they sprung it on me yesterday, and I knew you would be upset. Please don’t be mad at me.”

He sighs. “I’m not mad at you. I just don’t want anyone else getting a chance to wine and dine you.”

“You worried I’m going to leave you for one of these pretentious bores?” Naomi smiles, teasingly. “You know better than anyone that rich and old happens to be my type.”

Ethan’s hand travels down the small of her back, and he feels her shudder under his featherlight touch. “What did I tell you about calling me old, Naomi?”

“I like seeing you jealous,” Naomi continues.

“Is that right? Was that your plan all along, to make me envious of the other people here tonight?”

She shakes her head. “No, it happens to be an unintended outcome of the evening, but I’m happy nonetheless.”

Without warning, Ethan pulls Naomi flush against him. A quiet groan escapes her upon contact with him. She looks around to see if anyone heard anything. Thankfully, everyone else is too wrapped up in their own dancing.

Ethan lowers his head close to her ear, just to make sure no one else is listening. His breath is warm on her neck and he feels her shift her weight from one foot to the other, squirming. “I’m really tired of sharing you.”

“Oh, really?” Ethan can hear the challenge in her tone. “Well, there’s still a few more hours left in the evening. I think you can be a team player until then.”

“But I don’t want to be a team player.” His hand is on her hip, squeezing so fiercely through her dress, Naomi is sure she’s going to bruise. She likes it. “You, in this god forsaken dress, waltzing around here with men that would kill for even 5 minutes alone with you? How ever will I survive?”

“You’re a patient man,” Naomi says. “You’ll manage.”

Ethan spins Naomi away from him, and she twirls back into his arms. The song that’s playing reaches its crescendo, and he can tell it’ll be over soon. “I won’t. I want you all to myself.”

“Yeah?”

“I want you, all alone with me, in our room,” Ethan whispers.

Naomi surprised him earlier, getting them a suite for the evening. She knew that with all the drinking they’d be doing, driving home was going to be impossible. Plus, it’d be a fun little retreat, a romantic night for just the two of them.

“I want you out of this dress,” Ethan continues. “I want you under me, writhing uncontrollably.”

“Ethan…”

“Saying my name, just like that. Or louder, I’m not a picky man.”

Thank God he’s holding her, because her knees are buckling. Liquid heat pools in the pit of her stomach, and she rests her head on Ethan’s shoulder. She pants hard, trying to keep her composure. They’re in a crowded room, full of colleagues and Boston’s most influential residents, and she’s getting dizzy with desire.

“That sounds fun.”

“You think you can make it upstairs in 10 minutes?” Ethan asks. The song ends and he steps back, letting Naomi go. She wobbles slightly, adjusting to standing on her own two feet.

Once she’s steady, Naomi clears her throat and locks eyes with the man in front of her. “I’ll meet you there in 7.”

~v~

Naomi makes it to their suite in 6 minutes, tops. As soon as she saw him swagger out of the ballroom like the smug jackass that he is, she grabbed another champagne flute and quickly downed it, letting the bubbles coat her tongue. Once she’s done with that, she makes her own exit and heads off to meet Ethan.

Their suite is lovely, with a gorgeous view of Boston Common. On any other day, Naomi would be able to appreciate that, but not now. 

She pushes open the double doors to their bedroom, and she finds Ethan. He’s staring out the window thoughtfully, but her entrance gains his attention.

He checks his watch with a smirk. “You got here sooner than I anticipated.”

“What can I say? You were down there making some pretty hefty claims. I had to see if you were really going to put your money where your mouth is.”

“I plan on putting my mouth on a lot of different places, Rookie.” Ethan shrugs off his tuxedo jacket, tossing it onto a nearby chair and he loosens the cuffs of his shirt. Slowly, he walks over to the large king-sized bed and sits casually. Crooking a finger, he summons Naomi over, and she nearly trips over herself in a rush to be near him.

Neither one of them speaks as Ethan silently appraises his girlfriend, figuring out where to start first.

He picks her feet, and he bends down, his fingers reaching her ankle where the shoes are strapped. “How attached are you to these shoes?”

Of all the things he could’ve said, that wasn’t what she was expecting. “W-what?”

“I’m trying to figure out how much care I should exercise with them,” Ethan explains.

“They’re Aquazzura and they cost me $800. If you break the strap or the heel, I can’t be held responsible for whatever harm comes your way.”

“Even if I replace them?”

“Even then.”

“Fair enough.” Ethan carefully unbuckles her heels and she steps out of them. He trails a finger up and down the back of her calf, reveling in the softness of her skin before looking up at her. “Take off your dress.”

“You don’t want to do the honors?”

“Trust me, I do. But if I get my hands on it, I can’t promise that I won’t rip it off of you.”

Naomi’s very tempted to let him do just that, but she reaches around and unzips it herself. It falls to the floor in one fell swoop, and she steps out of it.

The dress didn’t call for a bra, so Ethan is rewarded with an uninterrupted view of her. He sucks in a deep breath at the sight. Naomi in that dress was a vision, but this is her in his favorite form.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of her thong and he slides it down. She does the rest of the work and impatiently kicks it away.

And now she’s just standing here, stark naked, subject to his piercing gaze while he’s still fully dressed. The obviousness of the power dynamic makes her shift uncomfortably.

Ethan grabs her hips and pulls her forward, so she can straddle his lap. His hands find her face and he cradles it. “You’re so beautiful.” His mouth crashes against hers, not allowing her the chance to reply to the compliment. 

Naomi grabs hold of his shoulders in order to not fly backwards due to sheer force. Ethan set an undeniable tone. Urgent, hot, demanding. His hands keep her in place, locked in the sensual embrace. Not that she’d ever willingly leave his arms, now or ever.

His tongue invades her mouth, clashing with her own and he groans. He can still taste the champagne on her, something light and bubbly. It’s intoxicating.

All too soon, Ethan breaks the kiss, leaving Naomi breathless and buzzing with energy. His hands leave her face and roam freely, exploring.

“I have a challenge for you,” he says, his lips finding the column of her neck.

He sucks on her pulse, and she finds it hard to concentrate. “Huh?”

“I want you to stay quiet. Absolutely no sounds.”

“I thought you wanted me saying your name.”

“You will,” Ethan assures her, and the promise makes her stomach clench. “But right now I want you to be quiet.”

“And if I don’t keep quiet?” Naomi challenges. Ethan cups one of her breasts in the palm of his hand and squeezes, the pad of his thumb circling her nipple.

“Then you don’t get to cum. I go back downstairs and I leave you here like this.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

With a raised eyebrow, Ethan pulls at her nipple, twisting it between his thumb and index finger. Naomi gasps. “Are you willing to challenge me on that?”

Naomi’s head is fuzzy but she swallows hard. She nods, not willing to test him on this front. “Fine. I’ll be quiet.”

Ethan smiles. “Good.” He kisses her with a renewed energy and his unoccupied hand travels down to her thigh, his nails scraping against the flesh. 

Naomi bucks in his lap. She’s shaking and her fingers are digging into his shoulders. The anticipation of what he’s going to do is killing her and she’s almost afraid to breathe.

His finger slides between her thighs teasingly, and before she gets a chance to respond, Ethan slides a single digit between her folds. It catches her by surprise and she gasps.

Ethan tsks one disapproval. “Silence, Naomi.”

Fuck you, she thinks, but she obeys regardless. Her nails dig deeper into his shoulder blades and she tries her hardest to stay quiet.

He moves at an unnaturally slow pace, not allowing Naomi to settle into a rhythm. Any other time, she’d spur him on. “Harder, deeper, more,” is what she wants to say, but he’s cursed her with silence. Instead she buries her face in the crook of his neck.

Ethan continues his torture, enjoying the view. A hot and bothered Naomi is a sight unrivaled, and he’d keep her like this forever if it was possible. He can feel the tension rolling off of her in waves, all the muscles in her thighs and abdomen tight with the effort it’s taking to keep quiet.

He adds another finger and groans. “Fuck, Rookie. You feel so good. So tight, so wet, and all for me.” 

She needs to breathe. Her lungs are tight, her chest heaving against his, but he has her walking a tightrope right now, and one false move can end it all.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Ethan continues, the rough pad of his thumb sliding against once, twice, three times. “And you’re all mine. How did I get so lucky?”

Naomi’s skin flushes furiously. He knows she’s has kink for him talking during sex. On their volition her hips rise and fall, rise and fall, trying to keep pace with him. As soon as she does, his fingers slow down, dragging her from the edge of ecstasy, before speeding up again.

He does this repeatedly, the randomness of his movements making her head spin. Every nerve in her body is on fire, and she can feel the pressure building in the pit of her stomach.

So close, so close, don’t stop, plays in her head on a continuous loop as Ethan keeps working against her. The pressure builds, a heat settling in her veins and before she can stop herself a quiet, “Yes,” slips past her lips.

The energy in the room changed instantly. Ethan stills his fingers, then removes them, and Naomi feels the panic bubbling up and she pulls back to look Ethan in the eye.

“Oh, Naomi,” Ethan frowns.

“Don’t stop.”

“You violated the deal, Rookie. You were supposed to be quiet.”

She could cry in this moment, the frustration too much to bear.

“And you were doing so good,” Ethan adds, kissing the side of her head. “You were so close, weren’t you?” He toys with her, his finger sliding up and down her slit, doing nothing more than teasing her entrance.

When she’s back to herself, and not the ridiculous mess of flesh and lust that he’s reduced her to, she’s going to fucking kill him.

A whimper is pulled from her throat when his fingers plunge into her again.

“Come on, Naomi, I’m allowing you to use your words. Tell me how close you are. Let me know how badly you want to cum. You’re right there.”

Naomi really doesn’t not want to give him the satisfaction of begging, stroking his ridiculous ego, but there’s no room for foolish pride when your boyfriend has his hand between your legs.

She moans, broken and terse. Now that she’s finally allowed to talk again, words escape her.

“Please…” is the only speech she’s finally able to muster up. Groundbreaking.

“Please, what? What do you want me to do to you?” His finger thrusts into her again without warning, slow and languid. “Do you want me to do more of this?”

“Yes! Ethan, please dontfuckingstop!” She’s not sure if the words are coherent, but she doesn’t care. She got them out, and that’s what matters.

Ethan smiles, his mission accomplished. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The teasing doesn’t register because all Naomi can focus on is the pounding of her pulse, the feeling of his hands, the smell of his cologne. She can feel it building again, the fire deep in her core. She’s so close. So cl–

He stops. Again. This time, he wraps an arm around the small of her back and flips them, Naomi’s back hitting the soft down comforter dramatically.

Now she wants to scream at him. “Ethan, I seriously cannot–”

Ethan doesn’t give her a chance to chastise him because in a flash, he’s dropped to his knees, his hands on her ankles pulling her forward on the bed with an unexpected roughness.

“Be as loud as you want now, Naomi. I think you’ve more than earned it.”

His beard scrapes against her inner thigh, and god, she’s glad she convinced him to keep it. Slowly his tongue darts out, flattening against her folds.

Her hips fly off the bed against her will, arching to meet his mouth. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, Naomi pulls, keeping him in place. “Fuck!”

The expletive works as encouragement and Ethan continues this work, his tongue alternating between expertly lapping at her folds and flicking against her clit. Naomi grips his hair tighter, earring a deep growl from Ethan. The vibration alone is enough to send her flying.

“Please, right there,” Naomi begs. If he kept it up just a little while longer, she’d finally get to taste the release he’s denied her.

His fingers nudge at her entrance again, sliding in with ease, and lips wrap around her swollen nub and he sucks hard, and that’s all it takes.

Her orgasm is something that’s long and drawn out, a culmination of teasing, anticipation and sheer relief. Her entire body goes tense as the sensation holds her in a vice grip, and then finally, she relaxes, falling back onto the bed.

“You okay?”

She can’t tell if Ethan’s genuinely asking or if he’s being cocky. It doesn’t matter either way. “I’m dead. You killed me. RIP Naomi.”

“Yeah?”

Naomi nods. “Yeah.”

“Good. Because we’re just getting started, Valentine.”

Ethan stands up and quickly unbuttons his shirt, letting it slide to the floor next to her dress. Next are his shoes and pants. Any other time, Naomi would be right there with him, on him liking a second skin, helping him get rid of the clothes, but every bone in her body feels like it’s been replaced with Jell-O. She’s content just watching this time around.

He slides his boxer-briefs off, not intentionally putting on a show, but Naomi can’t help but stare. For all the compliments he pays her, Ethan, naked and painfully hard with arousal for her and her alone, is a masterpiece.

In a flash, he’s all over her, his hands interlocking with hers above her head, pressing her into the mattress. Ethan captures her in a heated kiss the moment he enters her, swallowing whatever guttural sound she was going to make.

His thrusts start out slow and measured, but they quickly grow more frenzied as his control over the situation slips. Naomi arches, desperate to meet his pace, but she’s crushed under him, pretty much immobile.

Needing to do something, Naomi swings her thigh over him, the heel of her foot pressing into his lower back. The pressure forces him deeper, something she didn’t think was possible.

Her head snaps back pressing further into the mattress and Ethan takes advantage, his mouth finding purchase on the exposed skin, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of her neck before sinking his teeth in, biting down hard before soothing the flesh with his tongue.

That’s going to leave a mark, but that’s nothing Naomi can bring herself to care about because the mix of pain and pleasure is heady and all-consuming.

The obnoxious bite is a sign. He wants to claim her, mark his territory. She knows he has a possessive streak, but this is new.7

“Ethan, oh god.”

She can feel him smirking against her, and his thrusts pick up in tempo once more. “Say it again,” he demands, groaning into her skin.

“Ethan,” Naomi repeats, her voice going up an octave. He’s about to make her cum again, she can feel it.

He frees her hands, and while she enjoyed the intimacy of the position, she’s glad to be free. Her hands roam, one gripping the hair at the nape of his neck, the other digging into his shoulder blade. His hands grip her hips, somehow pulling her even closer. 

“How close are you?” Ethan asks, his voice gruff.

“V-very.”

The thrusts become sloppier as they both chase the inevitable release. Soon the only sounds that can be heard are their shallow breaths and their slick skin colliding against each other.

Fire floods Ethan’s veins and he reaches between them, pinching at her bundle of nerves once more. A pleasant growl settles in his chest at the way she clenches around him.

“Let go, Naomi,” Ethan demands. “Right now.”

The command is more than enough to send her over the edge again, her body tensing, toes curling. She comes undone with a silent cry, her nails piercing into the skin of his back.

Her release triggers his own. It doesn’t take much, one more deep thrust and he moans, spilling inside of her, hot and urgent.

He rolls off of her and Naomi inhales deeply, not realizing just how crushing his weight was. Neither one of them says anything for a while, just trying to catch their breath and get their heart rates back down.

“Fuck,” Naomi says, still shaky and breathless. She turns her head and looks at Ethan with a smirk. “I should get you jealous more often.”

~v~

The couple takes their time getting dressed again, not yet ready to go back downstairs. They lazed around in bed for a while before taking the world’s quickest shower and searching for their clothes that are scattered around the suite.

“How long have we been gone?” Naomi asks, sliding on her shoes.

“Too long.”

“I know my friends are wondering where the hell I am.”

“I’m sure you’ll find an excuse.”

 “Of course. I’m nothing if not quick on my feet.” Naomi turns around and sees Ethan readjusting his bow tie in the mirror. She walks over and leans into his side. “Is it bad that I just want to stay up here with you?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“What if I want to tempt you?”

Ethan groans and drops a kiss onto the side of Naomi’s head. “You little seductress. Don’t you have an auction to be a part of?”

“About that, I wasn’t thinking. If you’re really uncomfortable, I won’t do it.”

Ethan dismisses the statement with a hand wave. “Nonsense. You’re a big girl, I trust you, and if you want to do it, you should. Besides, I have a feeling you’re going to make this hospital a lot of money.”

“Okay.” She spins around and poses dramatically. “How do I look?

“Like you just got thoroughly ravished by your boyfriend. Absolutely perfect.”

Naomi makes it back down to the ballroom by herself. It’s later in the evening, so more people are out on the dance floor, and the drinks are still flowing.

Sienna is the first one to spot her. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. Were you getting any of my texts?”

“Sorry, Si. I haven’t checked my phone all night.”

“Where the heck have you been?” She asks.

Naomi shrugs, noncommittal. “Wandering around mostly. This hotel is huge, I almost got lost.”

“What happened to your hair?”

Naomi touches the crown of her head. While she was getting freshened up, the humidity of the shower made her curls come back, so she decided to throw it in a messy bun.

“I got really warm,” Naomi explains. “It was too much effort to keep it down, and it was making my neck and back hot.”

Sienna seems to believe the excuse because she simply shrugs and nods. “Okay!” She grabs Naomi’s hand and drags her along. “Come one, Dr. Banerji says it’s almost time to start the auction.”

All of the people participating in the people auction line up on stage, as Naveen acts as the emcee.

It wasn’t just people auctioning themselves off for dates. A Celtics player offered up seats in the VIP suite at their arena, restaurants offering certificates to get private dining experiences, Ethan even offered up his box seats at the Citizens Bank Opera House for one evening.

When they got to actually auctioning off dates, Bryce was naturally a hit, with two women bidding back and forth until $1500 was reached.

“And for our next participant of the evening, we have Dr. Naomi Valentine!”

Naomi steps up to the podium next to Naveen and she’s met with polite applause from the audience. She’s never been shy before, but being part of the crowd and looking down on them are two different experiences.

“Let’s start the bidding at $100.”

“$100!”

“$150!”

“$150, do I hear $200?”

“$250!”

“Someone’s eager!” Naveen teases. “How about $275?”

$400!”

“$450!”

This goes on for a while, various men throwing out numbers, vying for Naomi’s hand.

“$2000!” Naomi scans the crowd and sees it's the guy she was dancing with earlier before Ethan cut in Carl Something or Another.

“$2000! $2000 going once, going twice–”

“$15,000!”

The number is so not what Naomi was expecting to hear, she nearly loses her balance. Holy shit, someone wanted to spend that much money? On her?

Murmurs fill the crowd as the guests all turn to one another, gossiping aloud.

“$15,000 going once, going twice, sold!” Naveen scans the audience and chuckles. “Sold to Edenbrooks’ very own Dr. Ethan Ramsey! Step up and come greet your date, son!”

Naomi’s eyes nearly bug out of her head as Ethan saunters onto the stage, a lopsided grin on his face. Naomi can feel the arrogance rolling off of him in waves.

All of the Edenbrook employees in attendance immediately begin talking. Of course there was talk of Ethan and Naomi maybe being a thing, but this confirms it.

“What on earth are you doing?” She asks, looking around. Everyone’s staring at them.

“Bidding.”

“A small down payment on a house?”

“What? I can afford it.” Ethan shrugs. “Besides, you couldn’t have possibly thought I was going to let someone else get this honor.”

Naomi narrows her eyes at him and laughs. “You know, you’re really crazy when you’re acting possessive and jealous.”

“I know.” Ethan steps forward and wraps an arm around Naomi’s waist. “And you love it.”

“I kind of do.”

He kisses her, earning a few whoops and whistles – and one rogue “Get it, Nay!” from Sienna – from the crowd. When he pulls away, the apples of Naomi’s cheeks are a deep red, not used to this level of attention all at once.

“So, now that I’ve proved my point, how about we get out of here? I think I need to take you on a date that’s worth $15,000.”

[adarafaelbarba]

Hi! May I please have a one shot with sonny (svu) x reader? Reader forgets to eat and gets super dizzy and that's it ! Thanks 🌈✨

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x reader

Fandom: Law and Order SVU

Requested: Yes (and no)

Request: «Hi! May I please have a one shot with sonny (svu) x reader? Reader forgets to eat and gets super dizzy and that's it ! Thanks 🌈✨» - @ theichabbieclub

A/N: Last fall I started feeling super dizzy at work. Whenever I turned my head, or leant my head backwards to look up. It was worse than I was used too (I’ve always had a low iron level in my blood, so I have to take supplements for that). It took about a week (and my boss/colleagues telling me) to get me to get a doctors appointment. It turned out I got something called benign vertigo, which isn’t dangerous. It just means the crystal like particles in your ears that tells your brain where you’re turning your head (and in general helps you keep your balance) have come loose and you’ve got to do some exercises to get them to hopefully attach again (this could take from one month to a year or more). So I started writing this little fic a while back, never finished, until I got this request and I felt like it would kinda fit with the unfinished fic 🥰 Hope y’all like it ❤️ -Karen

“(Y/L/N)! Do you have a moment?” Sonny asked as I stood discussing the case with Fin. “Uh, yeah sure, what’s—.” I started before feeling overwhelmingly dizzy. “Hey! You okay?” He asked, catching me as I fell forward, catching the attention of everyone in the bullpen. Not trusting my voice I nodded.

“What happened?” Olivia asked, walking too us. “I don’t know Lieu, one second she was standing up, the next she almost passed out”, Sonny explained, still holding me. “(Y/L/N), what’s going on?” She asked, looking to me. “I’m probably just tired and dehydrated. I’ll be fine,” I said, sitting back down to work. “Go home (Y/L/N). That’s an order.” Looking up at Liv I was about to fight it when she just gave me a stern look. “Fine.”

Grabbing my things I make quick way to the elevator. When I look back at it, I probably went too quick.

I didn’t really know where I was when I woke up, but there were loads of people standing over me when I came too it.

«Detective (Y/L/N)! Are you alright ma’am?!» someone asked as they stood over me. Sitting up slowly I looked around me. The lobby. «Uh, what happened?» I asked, my voice shaking as I breathed in. «Someone found you laying on the floor in the elevator and got you out here», the man said. «Ambulance is on the way», he added. «That’s not necessary sir!» I tried, but he held a hand up.

«(Y/N)! What the heck happened?!» Amanda asked, running over. «I must have gotten up too fast. I’m amazed I even made it to the elevator.» I shrugged, sitting up. «I’m taking you to the hospital to get you checked, and that’s not up for debate!» groaning at her antics I was about to argue with her when the guy from earlier butted in to say there were already an ambulance on the way. «No need, I’ll take her myself!» a few back and forth’s with them and the man gave in, calling to cancel the bus.

«Amanda!» I groaned, but she wouldn’t have any of it.

Getting to the emergency room I was taken straight to see a doctor.

“Alright ladies. What seems to be the problem?” He asked, looking at us. “My friend here is struggling a bit with dizziness, and today she passed out in the elevator at work”, Amanda explained. “Oh my”, the doctor said, looking from Amanda to me. “There are a handful of things that could have caused this, but I think it might be vertigo. It isn’t harmful, it just means your balance is off.” he went on explaining as he printed out a stack of papers.

“Now if you could sit down at the bench there Ms. (Y/L/N), I’ll run some tests before doing a blood test”, he said, motioning to the bench in front of us.

…

Standing back up when we finished off I could feel myself growing tired, and nauseous. “Is the nausea normal?” I asked, looking at the doctor. “It is. Vertigo basically makes you feel like you’re really drunk or like you’re on a boat. It sometimes gets easier with time, but I suggest getting some rest, drink a lot of water, do some of the exercises on the paper there», the doctor said, motioning to the exercises he was talking about. «Alright then I just want to take a quick blood test, and then you’re free to leave», he said, taking out the needle.

…

two days later I was back to work.

«(Y/N), hey, how are you feeling?» Sonny asked, looking over to me as I walked into the precinct. «I’m okay», I replied, smiling at him before sitting down at my desk. «Yeah? Here. I got you coffee», he said, handing me the cup of steaming beverage. «Thank you Carisi. That’s so nice of you», I said.

Work took my mind of the dizziness for the most part. That was until I got up to hand something to Amanda when I felt myself getting lightheaded again.

«Whoa! Easy there doll!» Sonny grabbed me before I fell. «If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were falling for me», he said, chuckling. «Keep dreaming prince charming!» I laughed, straightening myself up before patting his cheek.

«Seriously though. What did the doctor say?» he asked, keeping his eyes on me. «I’ve got something called benign vertigo. It’s not dangerous, or contagious, it’s just, I’m off balance. My brain thinks left when I’m actually turning right, so it feels like I’m on a boat», I said, looking from his ocean blue eyes down to the white coffee lid. «Or … you remember PO Thomasson’s birthday party two years ago? When we both drank more than we should have, and had a hard time standing straight?» he nodded at this. «It feels like that.»

«(Y/L/N)! Catch!» Amanda called, passing a water bottle over. «Rollins!» I groaned, thanking Sonny for catching it. «Remember what the doc said. Hydrate!» Nodding my head I set the coffee down before taking a big sip of the ice cold water.

I caught Sonny giving me a sympathetic look as I capped the water bottle again. «What?» I asked, looking at him. «Nothing, I just, I’m sorry this happened to you. And also, I’m your partner, I should be the one looking after you», he said, hanging his head in shame.

«Don’t be like that Carisi. Only reason Rollins knows all this is because she’s the one that took me to the hospital, and she was in the room when the doctor checked me», you reasoned. «Still, (Y/L/N), I should be looking after you. And I will, starting now», he said. «You really don’t have to Carisi.» But he wouldn’t budge.

…

He had done his homework apparently, reading up on the vertigo. «Hey Lieu! I need to take this phone call. I’ll be back!» you called out for Liv while carefully getting out of your chair and making your way to the break room.

«Dr. Edward, you got my bloodwork result?» you asked, trying not to let your nerves eat you up. «Yeah, your iron level was low, not dangerously low, but the level was low enough to make you dizzy. So I want to start taking iron supplements as soon as possible», he explained. «Thanks Doc, I’ll get them right after work.» You thanked him again and said goodbye before hanging up.

«Detective (Y/L/N)? Can I talk with you in my office?» Liv asked, looking at you. «Yeah, of course, what’s going on?» you asked. «Let’s talk in my office», she repeated herself.

Entering Liv’s office, you awkwardly sat down on the chair in front of her desk, waiting for her to start talking. «Are you okay?» she asked, sitting opposite you. «Yeah. I feel fine. I’ve taken time to rest. I’m eating more and I’m cutting back on coffee», you said. She didn’t seem at all convinced. «You still sway, like you’re about to fall, and you’re more cautious when getting up. If the dizziness don’t subside, I’m gonna have to put you on desk duty», Liv stated.

«Desk duty?! Lieu, with all due respect, I got it under control!» you exclaimed. She shook her head at this. «Until you get me a note from your doctor saying your fit to go out in the field, I’m keeping you on desk duty detective (Y/L/N), and that’s final.»

You exited her office in a huff and stormed off to the locker room, not caring who saw you.

«Hey, what happened?» Sonny asked, having followed you. «I’m apparently not fit to be in the field», you murmured, punching you locker door. «Oh?» he sounded surprised. «Yeah.» sitting down on the bench you leant your head back, immediately regretting it. «I’m on desk duty until further notice», you groaned.

…

You had nothing against cops liking or even wanting to be on desk duty. But it was not for you. You were an active person, an adventure seeking person, not someone who would do well being confined to a desk for the whole work day.

If you had someone to come home to at night it would be somewhat bearable, seeing as you got somewhat normal hours. But you lived alone, you were single, who would want to date someone with an irregular work schedule? The hours you got at home were spent laying on the couch and staring at the celling while the tv played in the background.

…

Four weeks into it all Sonny walked straight over to you after coming back from the DA’s office. «Come on, let’s go», he murmured. «Where are we going?» you asked, getting up so you didn’t have to crane your neck too much. «Lunch.» His smile was so infectious you couldn’t help but return it. «Lead the way Carisi.»

You found yourself sitting opposite each other in a cute little diner a couple of blocks down from the precinct. «What’s the occasion?» you asked, sipping on the lemonade you had gotten. «It’s a little pick me up, because I know you don’t like being on desk duty.» That made you smile. «Thank you Carisi», you said, your smile seemingly permanent on your face.

«Could you drop me off at home? I got to get something before going back to work», you asked Sonny after he had paid for lunch. «Yeah of course. I can wait while you grab it, so you don’t have to make your own way back», he suggested. «Then at least come up and wait. I can make you coffee to go.» Sonny nodded at this.

«Make yourself comfortable, I won’t be long», you murmured, going to your office to grab what you needed while leaving Sonny in the living room.

By the time you got back out to the living room, he was stood there holding two disposable cups. «I made coffee while I waited», he said, giving you a shy smile. «Thank you», you responded, blushing.

Taking the coffees from him you quickly put them down on the breakfast island. «Thank you Sonny. For helping me get my mind of the current situation. You’re an awesome partner», you said, hugging him tightly. «Oh, of course (Y/N). Anything to see you smile.» Looking up at him you couldn’t help but smile wide. He was literally the sweetest man in the world.

«We should head back to work before Liv starts calling us», Sonny murmured, turning to grab the coffee. «Yeah, hold on.» You had no idea what got over you, but you got a sudden urge to grab his face and pull him down to you. So you did, meeting him halfway to kiss him softly on the lips.

It felt like a mistake as soon as you kissed him, his lips almost frozen still against yours. «I’m so sorry Sonny! I don’t know what came over me», you gasped, pulling away. «I read the signals all wrong! Shit, I’m an idiot! Please let’s just forget this even happened», you rambled on, not even looking at him.

«Can you shut up for a second and stop pacing so I can speak?» he murmured, effectively stopping you in your track. Looking up at your partner you waited whilst nervously biting on your lower lip. «Sorry», you whispered. «I’m not», he replied, pulling you back in for a searing kiss.

There was one thing you were sure about, you never wanted to stop kissing Sonny. His lips moulded so well with yours as you both stood there in each others embrace. You let out a small moan at how good it made you feel, and Sonny took the chance to slip his tongue into your open mouth. Fuck, does this man know how to make out! you thought to yourself, your hands going into his hair.

When you reluctantly pulled away, you were both out of breath. «That was—wow. I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time», he murmured, caressing your cheek as you both stood there. ��Yeah, me too», you confessed, smiling up at him.

«Shit. Yeah we really have to go. Let’s continue this later though.» Nodding at him you both grabbed your coffee and ran out the door.

Maybe being on desk duty wasn’t so bad after all?

Taglist: @thatesqcrush @beccabarba @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @sweetcannolicarisi

[ahopelessromantic]

Stops Along the Road ➳ D. Morgan

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader

Wordcount: Roughly 4k

Warnings: None really, some cursing, a gun wound, mentions of pregnancy, Morgan and the reader are stupid

Summary: The road to finding your way to Morgan once and for all was a long one, but you’ve never enjoyed a ride more. (A/N: I’m so happy to finally be writing again! Criminal Minds is back on Amazon Prime and back is my inspiration baby! I know this is a bit different from my usual stuff, but I quite liked the format of the little insights into the life of reader and Derek. I hope you’ll enjoy!)

The one with the flirting

“Okay, is it just me or was the captain heavily flirting with Morgan?” JJ grinned, leaning in closer to her colleagues so no one at the station would over her them. You were in the middle of packing up your stuff right by them, trying to listen in as inconspicuously as possible. „Oh god, please don’t bring it up.“ Emily laughed, sending a confused frown across JJ’s forehead. „Why that?“ „(Y/N) gets weirdly protective of Morgan when someone’s flirting with him. It’s almost like she wants to fight them every time.“ Spencer chimed in. It was just then that you realised you probably should have gone into hiding as soon as JJ had walked up to them with her ‘I have gossip’ face. „See?“ Emily grinned at her colleague, then at you. You wanted to disappear.

„Even Reid notices. You gritted your teeth. “I don’t want him to get hurt, so what? Derek is just as protective of me with guys. We look out for each other.” Emily looked like she wanted to continue poking around, but starting to feel defensive you snapped at her. “My friendship with Derek is not your business, okay? We are what we are, and no matter how weird it may seem to you, just accept it. We’re nothing to gossip about.” The bad conscience already kicked in while you made your dramatic exit, but you swallowed it down with a heavy sigh. Constantly working around the same people sometimes caused them to get a bit too close for comfort, and their eternal teasing about you and your best friend was starting to get on your nerves. The bond you and Derek shared couldn’t be described with words and certainly, wasn’t really comprehensible to people looking in from the outside, so you wished they could just take it as it was and let you two be. You had more important things on your mind than thinking about what your coworkers’ opinions on the relationship between you and your best friend, as much as you loved them. More important things like the next case that you had already been called in for, for example.

The one with the gun wound You knew that your job wasn’t easy. You knew it brought many dangers with it, and you knew that people were bound to wind up hurt at some point. But in all your worrying over your team, that was like family to you, you had never expected yourself to be the one getting injured at some point. But here you were, shot by an unsub that had been restrained by Prentiss mere moments after he had fired his gun at you. You were sitting on the floor, jaw hurting from clenching it too hard, Morgan kneeling next to you. His body exuded warmth you desperately needed, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have his soothing presence right there beside you. „Shh. Come on, keep on breathing.” He spoke calmly, but the way his hand was squeezing yours told you a whole different story. “It’s just a shot in the leg.” You rolled your eyes and groaned, trying your best to play it off. He looked at you with his dark eyes, a mix between a deadpan and a smile that only he was able to do. „Doesn’t matter, it‘s still gonna hurt and you don’t have to act all tough like it doesn’t, okay?“ You released the breath you had been holding in a cough, teeth still gritted. „I feel like once I acknowledge that it hurts I’m going to start screaming or cursing really bad. Possibly both.“ Your voice was fainter than you would have liked it to be. He gave your hand another squeeze. „Come on, let go. The paramedics will be here in no time and then they’ll dope you up on painkillers anyway. Will you unclench your teeth now before they shatter in your jaw, you stubborn woman?“ You half chuckled, half sobbed and then decided to hell with it. You relaxed your body and started taking deep breaths again, and with the breathing in came the pain. „Motherfucker!“ You yelled, an even worse string of curses escaping your lips right after. Derek just chuckled. „See, there you go. Just let it all out.“ You just glanced daggers at him. „You are so paying for the drinks next time we’re going out.“ He just chuckled. Sometimes you hated him.

The one with the wedding If someone were to ask you what you loved most about your best friend, you would probably tell them that he was easy. There was never any doubt with him, you didn’t have to question anything about him or your friendship. Morgan was your person and you were his. Period. Your support for each other was quiet, so quiet that other people sometimes forgot about just how deep your affection for each other ran. But his love was there when he placed you coffee order on your desk every morning without words, it was there when he gave you a birthday present you had once only shortly mentioned and then never spoken of again, it was there when you patched him up with your little to none medical knowledge after he had been too rough in kicking a door down once again. So it wasn’t really a surprise that he had been the one to find you hiding out in the gardens. You were sitting on a bench, feeling miserable in your little yellow dress. Normally you were a huge fan of weddings, a huge fan of love, but this one had set something off inside of you. Most of your friends from high school were long married already, your team members were tying the knot one by one, too, and here you still were, alone on a bench with no ring on your finger and no family to come home to. “Thought I’d find you out here.” Derek’s voice ripped you out of your thoughts, and you were so grateful to see his stupid face that you almost started crying. It was as if that man had a sixth sense for your emotions, a talent for always being right where you needed him. “I’m… getting some fresh air.” You lied, knowing that he wasn’t going to be fooled by it. He sat down next to you, his eyes mustering you as if they were trying to decode your emotions. “I thought you loved weddings.” You chuckled and looked up at him through your lashes. “I do. It’s just… something about this one is bugging me. I feel awful for even letting my thoughts go there, but I just couldn’t help it tonight. You know, everyone in there is happy, with boyfriends and husbands and wives and a future to look forward to, and all I’ve got is my job and a car that my best friend likes to steal.” Derek chuckled, probably picturing himself in your beloved BMW convertible for a moment. A comfortable silence spread between the two of you, and it could have stayed that way. Just two friends sitting in a garden, enjoying the evening. But you felt the urge to talk more about this gnawing feeling in your chest, to get to know if he, at least, felt like that too. “Don’t you ever get worried? About the future? That you’ll end up alone and sad, with no one to grow old with?” He exhaled, looking happy that you had opened up yourself without him having to squeeze it out of you. For a moment he looked pensive, his gaze wandering off into the distance. You watched him closely, the strong eyebrows, the delicate face. It was a face you knew like no other, a face that had seen you in all your worst moments. “No.” He finally spoke up. “I’m not worried.” He said with an almost reverent honesty that took you off guard. “I honestly don’t know what will happen in the future. But I know that you’re in it, and nothing calms me more than knowing that. So no matter what happens, there will be you and I.“ You sighed and leaned against his shoulder, causing him to place his arm around you. Somehow, those few words had calmed you. You weren’t going to be alone, ever. “I love you, Derek.” You murmured into the night. He turned his head to press a kiss against your temple. “I love you too. Now come on, let’s break up this little pity party of yours and make use of the open bar. I mean, how often do we get free booze?” You felt a smile grow across your lips against your will. “Basically never. But you have to promise to dance with me.” Morgan got up from the bench and held out his hand to you. “Honey, if you give me two more glasses of champagne I’ll even dance the chicken dance for you.” You threw your head back and laughed, taking his hand. “Alright, idiot. Let’s go give them a show.”

The one where his mother gets involved „I love seeing you two together so much.“ You blushed and, in an attempt to hide it, continued chopping the vegetables. „Derek always seems so free without you, you know? So happy. He doesn’t allow himself to be like that with anyone else.“ You dared yourself to look at your best friend’s mom, not expecting the look on her face to be so serious. „He’s just my Derek.“ You chuckled awkwardly, not really seeing the big deal in his change of behaviour around you. You acted differently when it was just the two of you as well, but wasn’t that how people were when they let their guards down? The smallest of smiles snuck across Mrs Morgan‘s lips. „Exactly honey, your Derek. He’s yours.“ You felt yourself freeze, but as if she knew exactly what she was doing the small woman smacked you with one of her kitchen towels. „You know how desperate I am for grandchildren, I’ll take any chance I get! Can’t you at least maybe think about it?“ You laughed, maybe a little bit too loudly, and rolled your eyes. „Nice try, Mrs M. But I’ll tell you when I get there.“ Morgan couldn’t help the weird feeling in his chest upon overhearing the conversation between you and his mother. Above all, of course, was the air of familiarity with which you interacted. You were never just someone who tagged along with him, these days you belonged into his family home almost as much as he did. But then, the deeper undertones of his mother’s words gnawed away at his subconscious, as if they were trying to unlock something that wasn’t there yet. Your Derek. After years of playing the role of the tough guy, the man of the family, a victim hiding the fact that he was just that, you had somehow been the first person he had allowed himself to be soft again with. For some reason, he only realised it now, how easily you had snuck past his guards and made yourself at home way beyond them. The words of an ex-girlfriend came to his mind. „I’m tired of trying to drill through your walls, Derek. There’s always some part of you that’s hidden from me and I don’t deserve that.“ She had been right, with her words, and right to break up with him. He hadn’t truly let someone new into his life in years. Not since you had come along anyway. But he shook his head and entered the kitchen with a bright smile plastered on his face. Today was not the day to think about such profound things. Today was all about his mother, and there would be other days to venture into unveiling the true nature of his affection for you.

The one where it’s enough It had been a while since the thoughts of you and him had started blooming in Derek’s chest. Maybe it had been his mother, maybe it had been the number of years you had already spent in your weird little companionship, but somehow, he couldn’t help seeing you in a completely different light. Suddenly every laugh you laughed was for him, suddenly every touch made his heartbeat speed up. It was almost as if he was a teenager again, only that his crush was his best friend and he couldn’t just run away from you without arousing suspicion. He watched you pack your bag at your desk, a gorgeous burgundy dress he had never seen before clinging to your figure. “Oh wow. You’re dressed up like that for him?” You turned around in surprise upon hearing your best friend’s voice. “Derek? What are you still doing here?” You were the last ones still at work, everyone else had left to go home or somewhere else already. You had shoved in some extra hours tonight, mainly to distract yourself from the evening ahead. An ex of yours was back in town, and he had made it more than clear to you that he had changed and that this time, he was ready to be serious about you. You didn’t even really know yourself why you had agreed to go out for dinner with him, maybe it was the fear of feeling as lonely as you had on the wedding again. Derek stepped closer to you, an almost desperate look in his eyes. You shuddered, not prepared for the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t go on this date, (Y/N). You’ll just allow him back into your life and settle for way less than you actually deserve and-“ You frowned and watched him shake his head in frustration, not able to read his behaviour. This was a side of Derek you had never seen before, one you didn’t know, and it made you anxious. But then, suddenly, he sent you one last weird look, stepped closer to you and grabbed your face to kiss you. You felt your eyes widen, looking at him in confusion after pulling away. “Wha- what are you doing?” You stammered out; afraid he had made a terrible mistake. There had always been clear lines between the two of you, lines that had never been openly discussed yet also lines that had never been crossed. Derek cupped the side of your face, forcing you to look at him. “I need to do this before I forever regret never taking a shot at us. I love you, (Y/N), and not just in the way I’ve thought. You’re not just in my future, I think you... you are my future. No one will ever fit as much with us like us. Our crazy jobs, our stupid addiction to cheesy 90’s music, the years of experience we have with handling each other through our highs and lows…We would be stupid not to at least try it.” You exhaled the breath you hadn’t even known you’d been holding in. “So don’t go on this date, don’t let this stupid guy make you think that mediocrity is all you deserve. We might not work out in the end, which I think is highly unlikely, but we definitely are anything but mediocre. I burn for you, (Y/N), and with the way we subconsciously keep sabotaging our own relationships I can’t help but hope that you feel the same.” You blinked at him for a moment, still not really sure about what exactly was happening. You didn’t even dare properly thinking it through, but not even that scared you. This felt right, as right as nothing in your life had ever felt before. It was Derek, after all. He was your person. So you held onto his strong arms, got on your tiptoes, and tentatively kissed him. This time it was him who looked at you in surprise after pulling away, his chest heaving as if he were out of breath. “I love you too.” You whispered. You looked at each other for a moment, trying to think of what to do next. And then you were all over each other.

The one where everyone finds out “We’re not telling anyone about this. This is our thing.” You spoke, closing the last two bottoms on your blouse. Derek watched you from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed, humming in agreement. “They’ll never let us live this down if we tell them that we’re together now. Can you imagine the teasing from Prentiss and Hotch?” You shuddered at his words, making your way over to him and sinking down on his lap. “This is just ours for now.” You smiled and kissed him carefully. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe you got to do that now, to just kiss your best friend whenever you felt like it. It was exhilarating, and you almost regretted all the years it had taken you to get to that point. He snaked his arms around you and pulled you closer, the warmth in his eyes robbing you of your ability to speak. “Ours.” He repeated as if he couldn’t believe it himself. You kissed him again, just to remind him of how much you were his now. Then the two of you got ready to go to work. It wasn’t exactly a rarity to see the two of you coming into the BAU together on some mornings, so you didn’t even bother arriving on separate times, and yet something seemed to be notably different about the two of you. Something so different that, when you saw Spencer slip a fifty-dollar bill into JJ’s hand, you knew that there was no keeping secrets in this godforsaken team. The teasing during the next few weeks was awful, and hadn’t the two of you loved your co-workers and friends so much you would have probably reported their bullying to HR. But nothing could overshadow your happiness at this point. You both felt as if you had finally fully stepped into life, finally stepped into your full potential. The happiest out of all the people over your getting together though, even happier than you yourselves, was Derek’s mother. She had yelled out in joy upon hearing the news over the phone, scolding Derek for how long she had known without him listening to her and making you laugh. A few months later you finally found the time to visit Derek’s family as a real couple for the first time, already feeling bad for how long it had taken you. The first half-hour was, again, spent with Mrs Morgan telling the two of you about how she had known all along and always wished for you to get together already. “Now, all I need to be completely happy is a grandchild.” She casually said over dinner and caused you to choke on your food. Derek hid his laughter in his napkin and threw you a look that just about said ‘you knew what you were getting yourself into’. “But I can see that we’re already close to that. How far along are you, (Y/N) dear?” Suddenly Derek wasn’t laughing anymore. You felt yourself freeze in shock and blinked at your boyfriend’s mother in shock. “Huh?!” You asked with the most conviction. She happily chatted on. “Oh honey, you can’t tell me that all that glowing is just from my son, as much as I love him.” You put your fork down with trembling fingers. “Mrs Morgan, I’m not pregnant.” She looked at you, narrowed her eyes, and then shrugged. “Alright. I just had a feeling.” You knew damn well that she wasn’t done with this yet, but the topic seemed to be finished for the moment and you awkwardly moved to other subjects with your conversations. Later that night, Morgan watched you getting ready for bed with the same weird look as his mother. “Should I go get you a test?” He asked. You exhaled. “I’m not pregnant Derek!”, you almost yelled in exasperation. He lowered his gaze. “But… you have been looking different. Something feels different.” You smiled and sat down beside him on the little bench at the end of the bed. “That’s because I am different. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, okay? It’s got nothing to do with a baby, as much as your mom hopes for one.” Derek chuckled and took your hands, lifting them to press a kiss against the both of them. “Do you think we should take her to a doctor? Maybe she’s not doing alright.” You laughed and shoved at his shoulder. “Now you’re just being mean, babe.” Still chuckling you crawled underneath the covers, patting the empty space next to you. He understood immediately, laying down next to you and pulling you close to his toned body. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the silence for a moment, the calm you always felt in your best friend’s embrace. “I am surprised, though.” You spoke into the silence. Derek hummed in question, his warm chest vibrating beneath your ear. “I thought you would be freaking out at the prospect of a baby. Yet here you were, just offering me to get a test.” He turned to be able to look at you, his face displaying surprise over his own behaviour. “Huh. I guess…” He inhaled deeply. “I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if it was with you. We’re gonna have them anyway, right? I thought that was part of the deal.” You both laughed. “Part of your mom’s deal, anyway.” He chuckled at your words. “But in all seriousness, I look forward to it, Derek. One day we’ll have a few little Morgans running around, and with our genes, they’ll be adorable. Your mom just caught me off guard, you know? We basically just started dating, even though we’ve known each other for so long. It would be a little soon, wouldn’t it?” Derek just shrugged and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “If it happens, it happens. I’ll take whatever life throws at me as long as I’ve got you by my side.”

The one where his mom knows best Was there a secret rule that mothers had to be clairvoyant, or all-knowing? It was a week later, and you had just emptied your stomach’s contents into your trash bin at work. You had been feeling dizzy the past few days, and your sense of smell had changed, too. For today, you decided to play it off as a placebo effect and continued with your day, even though Derek looked at your pale face in worry all day. But the next day was Saturday, the day you and Derek traditionally cooked a big breakfast together, and when the smell of his famous pancakes sent you running to the toilet you knew what was up. Your boyfriend ran into the toilet after you, rushing to hold your hair up and stroke your back. Once you were done coughing up your lungs and were able to sit up straight again, you met his gaze in shock and closed your eyes. And then the two of you started laughing. “Mother knows best, huh?” You laughed, burying your face in your hands. “Is there any way we can keep this from her? Just to spite her?” Derek chuckled and pressed the longest kiss against your forehead. “No way, I’m afraid. She’s never gonna shut up about this.” You smiled and looked at him, really looked at him kneeling on the floor with you. You thought back to the talk you had had in his childhood bedroom, the talk you had had at the wedding, the way he had been so sure of your future together. With him by your side, you were going to be alright. So maybe you weren’t going to shut up about this either.

[alieninatrenchcoat]

Boundaries

( An MSR one shot where Mulder and Scully attend a small get-together to celebrate the pregnancy of one of their colleagues, but Mulder begins to act a bit strange. )

     The conference room was oddly dark for the occasion. The light fixtures against the walls shone against the warm wood paneling at what seemed to be half their brilliance, wrapping the atmosphere is a cozy glow. The sun had begun to sink into its own departure with the coming depth of winter, yet the window spanning the far wall of the room was left barren, letting the night sky look down upon the scene. It was as if those inhabiting the room were in denial about the loss of daylight within the specific hour of the day. The blinds were not drawn, and the street lamps added to the luminosity of the confinement as it danced upon the slow-falling clumps of the first snow in D.C. Maybe this celebration called for the onlookers of the night to find themselves witnessing the occasion as well if not for a single passing moment of their drive home from work, or exiting the bus from the street below. The conference room must have looked nothing short of inviting. 

    Although, Scully wasn’t too sure that a cramped FBI headquarters conference room at 5pm was necessarily a normal space to throw a party. A workplace baby shower. In fact she wasn’t sure it was even a party at all. It was more of a mundane get-together. Agent Kinsley and Agent Stonecypher had kindly asked that she and Mulder be there after their forest-frenzy en route of their “team building seminar “ in Florida.  They claimed that Mulder and Scully were somewhat of an eye opener to what “true communication” truly was, and that the initiative to follow in their footsteps had brought them to realize there was more than friendship present within their partnership. The giddy couple was expecting a child.

        Mulder, of course, could not have been more agitated about Scully dragging him from the basement office to sit at a small conference table with a band of fellow agents who didn’t particularly care for him. In addition, the agent couple actually respected his work, he found to be most insufferably annoying. Yet, they wanted him there to celebrate Carla Stonecypher’s pregnancy. He sat there slumped back in his chair with his arms crossed in a most unprofessional posture. Only a few others were seated at the table across from him, none of which he knew, and all of which were talking to Scully. In the seat to his right he watched her, searching for a hint of agitation to appear on her pale face. He could extract that flicker of emotion from her to curate a reason for them to exit the scene and get back to work. Heading back downstairs for the few hours left of the day, surrounded by his own company, was currently his only desire. He looked forward to spending his days there in a space he and Scully had carefully cultivated on their own. Their homey home away-from home. His eyes darkened as he swiveled back and forth slightly in his chair, fuming about being forced to sit there. He tightened his arms together, and kept watch on scully. In contrast, her posture was perfect. Her red suit coat illuminated by the street lamps beyond the window, her complexion emotionless as she sat with her hands folded neatly on the table, taking in the conversation being thrown at her. 

       Scully was well-aware he wasn’t happy about being there, but a pregnancy is a big deal, and a happy one nonetheless. She could feel his eyes boring into her own in hopes that she might turn around with the final signal to retreat, but she ignored him and continued her courteous flow of conversation. 

    Carla and Micheal were standing by the door talking to Skinner and another AD Mulder and Scully didn’t recognize. There were a few other groups standing in clusters, some by the window watching the snow and nursing glasses of wine. 

Mulder felt a little gipped considering Scully was consorting with the group she wasn’t even aquatinted with until their arrival. What was the point to come if they weren’t even talking to the couple that had invited them? He straightened up, broke his Scully-trance, and scooted his chair up to the table to imitate her position. He brought his eyes up to settle upon two men in bright ties, and a tiny older woman. Their suit coats all draped on their chairs behind them. Mulder had decided too keep his on as if to send subliminal messages that he was not intending to stay long. He turned back to scully, unsatisfied with their company’s view. She finally gave him a quick glance when he nudged her calf with the toe of his dress shoe. She ignored it and continued talking about some cell research project, but furrowed her eyebrows. 

     Mulder couldn’t take it. The redundancy was making him sweat. To the surprise of scully and those she was speaking with, he shoved himself away from the table, gliding on his chair, and abruptly stood, causing the group’s conversation to come to a haunt - all attention on Mulder. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get a drink, would any of you care for one?” He asked with a hint of sarcasm as he sunk his hands into the pockets of his slacks and drew his lips into a fake grin with brows raised. Scully looked up at him perplexed by this outburst, but he stared with anticipation of response at the three across the conference table. The rest of the group in the room didn’t seem to notice his flamboyant gesture of arising from his seat. The man with the yellow tie, which Mulder made a mental note of as ‘giving him a headache,’ raised his hand in request of a said drink being brought to him. Mulder nodded dramatically and gave scully’s shoulder a tap as he turned away and made for the second door to the external sitting room. He closed the door behind him and took a seat in one of the many chairs lining the confined span of wall. He was alone. A table had replaced a few chairs for the small get together in celebration of the upcoming child. Wine and water, to the effect of a baby shower, as well as a finely decorated charcuterie board sat awaiting the guests. The lights were dimmed in this room as well, but the smaller window was masked in blinds. Mulder groaned looking longingly at a glowing exit sign near the glass panes leading to the external hallway. How badly he wanted to ‘exit’ the room and escape, but he didn’t want Scully to become cross with him. He could vaguely make out yet another exit sign’s glowing light above the elevator at the end of the hall. The elevator. The stairway down to his heaven, the office. He considered leaving in that moment, wondering if scully would really actually care all too much. She knew he couldn’t stand the endless fretting of Micheal and Carla, so he thought she’d be understanding and forgiving of his absence. The more he considered taking action upon his plan to ditch her, he thought more of himself eventually being alone within his office space. Meaning no Scully. He enjoyed the peace, but Scully just made it feel like it was less of a waste of time. Working in an office was not the best possible way to investigate x files, and she was way better at doing the research than he was anyway. It would be pointless to be at an office space without her as his right hand man. He sank his head into his hands at the notion that he was at a loss no matter where he was in this building if she wasn’t there. And she sure as hell wasn’t about to leave with him, so he admitted defeat. He’d stay for her. Scully. At this stupid baby shower. But for now he just needed a second alone, away from the noise. 

        There was a click at the door, waking him from his resentful thought processes. He snapped to attention when he saw it was Scully peaking through. When she recognized the man in the chair across the room to in fact be Mulder, she slipped into the room with him. Mulder looked down at his hands with a bit of shame at having not brought back drinks after 5 minutes, and for leaving her alone out there. Although, she was perfectly capable of handling herself. He waited for a lecture from her. A lecture on how rude he was acting, and how he could at least make an effort to socialize because bringing life into the world was a gift she wasn’t given and he knows how much it means to her. A lecture about how she wouldn’t have dragged him away from the precious paranormal if she didn’t feel like it would benefit him in any way. That he was too much of a recluse within the fbi sometimes that maybe those who didn’t like him only looked down upon his lack of approachability rather than his investment in the extraterrestrial existence of aliens. 

But the words never left her mouth. 

She took a seat next to him and ran a small hand through his hair. 

“You feeling okay Mulder?” He could hear the delicate concern in her voice and felt a pang for guilt for possibly making her worry “you don’t feel hot, but are you sure that you-“ 

“I’m alright Scully. I just needed some air.” Mulder stood, not looking at her and walked over to peer through the closed blinds covering the glass between the waiting room and the hall, searching for another sign of life. 

“I know you don’t feel like being here, but It’s just for a little while. I spoke to Carla and she explained to me the the intricacies of the doctors’... Mulder?” 

Mulder now had his hands cupped against the glass and his eyes like binoculars, mumbling inaudibly and giving a “mm” in response to her. He obviously wasn’t listening. Scully frowned and lost the sympathetic outlook as she too crossed the room to the wine and began to open a bottle in order to complete the task Mulder had neglected. The pop of the cork finally caught his attention and he made his way up behind her. 

“Scully” his voice was somber. Almost sad. He lost the silly ‘ignorant-binocular-mumbling’ act. 

“What is it Mulder?” She acknowledged snappily.

“Do you ever wonder...,” he drones off thoughtfully leaving room for her to question the end of his sentence, but she doesn’t. In hopes to draw her attention further, he finds that his hands come to grip her hips from behind as he towers over her shoulder. He tries to consume the ounce of attention left that she’d be willing to sacrifice to him. much to scully’s disadvantage she couldn’t shove his hands off of herself due to her preoccupation of pouring the wine.

“Mulder! Can you not see that im-“ 

“- do you ever, ever wonder...” 

“Get your hands off of me,” she ordered. Her tone was even as if she had already given up trying to convince him to obey. 

“Scully, do you ever wonder what it would be like?” His hands slowly move from her hips to her slower stomach. Slowly. His palms completely flat, pressing against her tiny torso as if straining to to feel every possible fiber of her blouse. 

She set the glass and the wine bottle down, swallowing, shivers electrocuting up her spine. She felt a lump in her throat. Mulder was usually handsy and flirtatious by nature, but she wasn’t quite sure this was his norm. He’d never touched her like this. She didn’t try to push it away, but stood rigid, allowing his hands to rest in their place. “Wonder about what, Mulder?” A moment of silence passed as they stood there waiting for the other to say or do something in protest. 

Mulder brought his voice to a near whisper.“what having a life inside of you is like?” he finished very seriously. He was seriously asking. He bent his head down slightly to brush his cheek against her within close prolixity of her ear. Scully tried her best to lean her own face away from him to look at his while still allowing him to touch her. His hands felt like magnets to the vulnerable soft feeling of her core beneath his skin, wanting an answer from that place rather than from her own mouth. She allowed it, feeling confused but sympathetic at the feeling of his neediness bleeding through. He wasn’t like this. She was worried something had happened to him, so she allowed herself to be his comfort. She was sure it meant nothing, just like every other caress or touch or closeness they exchanged. Mulder hoped that would be the case, although he wasn’t sure if that’s how he meant it to be. Maybe he wanted it to be something more. He turned his head to return her look. She seemed slightly bewildered and concerned at his question, but she gave him a confused smile. His expression had not changed. His eyes were as dim as the sky peaking through in the busy adjacent room. He was so somber, delicate, almost sad. 

“Oh Mulder...of course I have. What makes you curious? The baby shower?” 

He nodded, still seemingly troubled. She covered his hands with her own and guided them to a less intimate place back on her hips and shimmied herself to face him. Her back to the table. His hands left her waist to find themselves fingering over the grains of the wood in the table, trapping her between his two arms on either side  of her. He couldn’t hold her gaze any longer and focused on her dainty necklace instead, in the shadow of the crook of her neck and the already dim lighting. She placed a hand on his cheek and lifted his face to meet her eyes. He felt the  curiosity within them looking back at him, and he leaned into her hand. He knew he couldn’t quench that curiosity in this moment. 

“Mulder. You’re acting all strange, you're positive nothings the matter?” 

He gave scully a sad smile then used her shoulder to help balance himself as he straightened up. His hands returned to his slack pockets, taking a step back. He shouldn’t have touched her. He didn’t want to break their unspoken boundaries and he was grateful she didn't seem to consider it out of line or uncalled for. 

“I shouldn't have- I uh - Scully…” he glanced in the direction of the hallway window and then to the door Scully had closed behind her.

“Mulder?” She cocked her head, folding her arms inquisitively. 

Gluing his embarrassed eyes to his shoes, he started again “ I couldn't help but think that-” 

The door clicked again and the man with the bile-yellow tie swung the door open, Mulder and Scully whipping around to face him. 

“Hey Dana! I see you found him! Everything alright here? Carla and Micheal are wrapping it up, but I was hoping to be leaving with that drink, Agent Mulder!” The self-proclaimed Agent Wayne gave a boisterous laugh. Scully gave him a smile. 

“Yes everything is just fine, we'll be back in a minute” Scully replied. Muder nodded in confirmation. The door shut again with a big and over enthusiastic thumbs up from Wayne. Scully’s attention was back on Mulder expectantly. 

“Talk to me Mulder,” Scully insisted earnestly. He seemed to have mysteriously perked up, acting as though he wasn’t just all gloomy a moment ago, and guided her by the small of her back to the door in which wayne had retreated. 

“C’mon Scully, let’s go wish the happy couple a nice farewell!”

Thoroughly confused by his drastic behavioral changes, Scully tried to let it go for the time being. She’d question him about it later and out of public eye. She was completely and utterly surprised that Mulder was soon talking it up with everyone in the room, especially Carla, asking her all about how she and Micheal ‘found themselves on this new and exciting journey,’ and catching up with them about what they’d been up to since their forest investigation. She didn't bring it up. Not there. But she couldn't help but wonder what came over him or why he would ask her about her thoughts on her own hypothetical pregnancy. About why he had touched her. They could have been walked in on by Agent Wayne seconds earlier, or even seen through the hall window. Neither of them cared for rumors about their relationship being more than platonic, and he should have known that holding her like that would put the rumors through the roof if anyone were to notice. Not to mention the probability of Skinner having been the one to walk in. Mulder left the gathering after most others had left themselves, and happily he told Scully to go home and get some rest. Mulder? Telling her to go home instead of manning the office? She was undeniably  perplexed and confused. 

__

The phone rang. It was late. Scully was already in bed, but her lamp kept her out of the dark, and she was reading Moby dick for what she claimed to be the twelfth time. It was a last resort to defeat the thoughts of Mulder that had been keeping her from falling asleep. Thoughts of possible reasonings behind his actions or something she may have missed in his words or body language that would have given him away if she'd notice. Analyzing him. The phone rang again. Leaning over to her bedside table, she picked it up. 

“Hello?” She yawned.

“Hey Scully it's me.” She had a feeling.

“Mulder it’s-”

“Wait. wait, Scully. I gotta talk to you for a second” he was very much awake. 

“What is it?”

“I wanted to apologize. How I acted tonight… It was...it was inappropriate. Asking you such a question and already knowing the answer. I don't want...I didn't want to hurt you by bringing it up when I knew about the, the um-“

“Mulder. It's alright. I wasn't offended, just… taken aback. I didn’t expect my infertility to be something you would think about.” 

“ It wasn't my place Scully. It wasn't my place to ask… or to touch. “ There was a long pause between them for a moment. Scully took a deep breath, but he continued before she could start. “I was sitting in that room itching to be back downstairs. You knew that. I just didn't stop to think that the situation was bigger than me. I mean the whole party situation. That this was a celebration of another life coming into the world as a result of two people who love each other. It wasn’t about me. And when Carla and Micheal invited us and said that they started getting to know each other more because of you and I… I guess I just didn't know what that meant until I took a step back. In that waiting room, I just thought that...I thought of you. I thought of why you'd want to be there for them and it made sense to me” Scully didn't respond. “You still there?” 

“Yes” she felt she knew where this was going. She hoped he couldn’t hear her heartbeat pulsing in the palm of her hand, knuckles white against the phone. 

“Well, I realized why you wanted to be there. And that's why I asked.”

She took another deep breath, contemplating how to respond to his conclusion “I think that most women wonder what it's like to carry life, Mulder, and you don't need to pity me for wanting to try to be happy for those who have what I can't”

“You're exactly right Scully, which is why I'm apologizing. I wanted to go back into that room and feel their joy. I wanted to actually care. I wanted to. For you. I didn't want to wallow in my own self pity. How many times are we going to be at baby showers? It's trivial of me to consider, but I thought that I'd make the most of this one because I know I'm not going to get to have one for you. “

Scully's voice cracked as she breathed his name into the phone, trying to decipher exactly what he was implying, “Mulder thats-”

“Fuck Scully, I didnt mean that we… that you and I are-”

“Mulder stop.” she stood up from the bed and began to pace. “I thought maybe you were dissociating or upset about something, or that your head wasn't in the right place. We don't need to talk about it. I won't force you to come with me to things like this again. I just thought it would be...refreshing since we haven't had a field case in a bit. That maybe getting you out of the basement was a good idea. I was worried it was my fault you were so upset about being there. I’m just glad that I could be the reason you ended up wanting to stay. It's ok. We don't have to discuss...what doesn't need to be discussed.” She held her breath in hopes that she said the right thing. Her lungs were heavy. Her throat dry, heart pounding, hoping he got the message. She didn't want to push their boundaries. Neither did he. 

“Thanks for looking out for me, Scully. I don't know what I'd do without you. You did the right thing getting me to go. Really.“ 

“Are you sure? If there’s anything else you want to talk about, we could meet up and discuss-”

“-Absolutely. Sorry if I woke you. I'll see you tomorrow.” 

“Mulder, wait-” he hung up. She slumped back into bed, sighing. She set the phone back in its place and picked up her book once more, but she could no longer focus on the words. The answers to her confusion tugged at her brain more than the questions she no longer had.

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

( this is the first fanfic i’ve posted, so I’m not expecting it to draw much attention, but if anyone has constructive feedback or thoughts, im open to hearing any! )

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Chapter 7 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

Chapter seven 

~|Emily Fox|~

“Hey, you want to hang out after school today?” Madison asks me on Monday at lunch. “Oh, I—” I think of the most plausible lie, “I promised Ash I would close up again tonight. She’s got this thing with her girlfriend. I don’t know what, but she said it was important.” It’s not even that big of a lie. Ash has asked me that many a times before for the exact same reason. Only this time, she didn’t ask me to close the store. I want to go and tell Ash I will close it, for free, just so I – hopefully – bump into Charlie again tonight. I want to tell him I nearly finished the song and ask him if he has any clue what’s missing. “What about tomorrow?” I take a bite of my sandwich and chew ferociously, guarding my mouth with my hand to show her I can’t talk yet. “Got a shift from four until closing.” That’s not a lie. Tuesdays are mostly shift days anyway. “Wednesday?” I realize I can’t come up with another lie that I have to work. And besides, I think I could hang out with Madi until just before closing time and head down to the Music Store after. “Sure, yeah, Wednesday could work.” The brightest smile appears on her face at the answer. “It’s a date!” she pats my hand twice excitedly. “You know, we’ve been spending a lot less time together since you started working at the Music Store. I feel like I don’t even know what’s going on in that mind of yours.” I widen my eyes at that. If only she’d know. “Seen Cute Douchebag again?” “Uhm, no, I think he’s given up,” I lie. I can’t get into Charlie right now. She’ll know by the first word I’m crushing on him. Like really crushing on him. And she’ll say something crazy that I’m in love with him and it’ll get me to start thinking about that and I can’t have that right now. “Oh, sad. I really think you and him would make a cute couple.” The words nearly make me choke on my sandwich. “And he could help you write songs and get you into that fancy school of yours…” she trails off at the end, and I know exactly what’s coming next. “Or help you become famous.” I mouth the words along, earning a glare from my best friend. “I’m serious, Emmy.” A shiver runs down my spine at the nickname. “Don’t call me that,” I warn her. It’s what Uncle Robert always used to call me and Madi knows. “You know that name is reserved for someone else.” Madison holds up her hands in defense and quickly changes the subject. “You know Brianna’s doing her annual party next week right?” I nod my head. “Are you going?” “I’d rather die than go to a Brianna Holly party,” I snort, trying not to imagine me at that party. “Besides, you do know witches lure their pray into their house to eat them.” “I’m pretty sure that’s just from Hocus Pocus and it was mostly kids,” Madi corrects me. “Seventeen-year-olds are still kids,” I argue. “You’re seventeen years old, Ems,” she points out. I open my mouth to reply something to that, but then close it, not sure what to say. “Besides, she’s no witch. That there,” she points to the other side of the cafeteria, to the “popular table” where Brianna and Jake are seated. “Is a demon.” I watch Brianna as she cackles her witchy-demon laugh and can’t disagree. “You’re right.” Madi and I both pack our lunches back up and grab our stuff. “When am I not?” she wiggles her eyebrows, the way only Madi could. The two of us giggle our way out the cafeteria and to our lockers, getting ready for the other half of the day.

The day went by really slow. School normally has a bit of a slower pace, but I think turtles might go faster than this day went by. And it’s especially agonizing when you look forward to something that’s happening after school. “Ugh, finally!” I groan once Madi and I exit the school. “This day went agonizingly slow today.” “Eh, it was fine,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “Yeah, because you don’t have a cute boy waiting for you,” I mumble under my breath, hoping she didn’t hear. When I subtly turn my head to watch her reaction, I find her distracted by some other cute boys. The lacrosse boys. Of course. For once I thank heaven for high school jocks. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mads,” I say before leaving, but I doubt she heard it, so I shoot her a text instead. “You seemed a bit distracted by the Lacrosse boys. Had to go. See u tomorrow xx”

I don’t think I ever managed to walk from school to the Music Store this quickly. I arrive in under five minutes, when it usually takes fifteen, twenty when Madi walks along. “Emily, hey?” Ash greets, a little confused by my presence. “Hey, you mind if I close the store today? I want to work on my songs and don’t want to disturb Uncle Mitch tonight.” Ash gapes at me with big eyes and an open mouth. “I’ll do it for free.” She closes her mouth at this and narrows her eyes instead. “I know what this is about,” she says as the bell over the door rings. “That’s what this is about.” She nods her head towards the door. I turn around to indeed find what this is about entering the store. I quickly turn back to Ash before making eye contact with Charlie and offer her a sheepish grin. “Please?” I almost beg, hoping I don’t sound too desperate, but also thinking I might already be past desperate. “I swear, you don’t have to pay me for this.” Ash shakes her head at me. “You’re so desperately in love with him, sweetie. I hope you realize that.” I furrow my eyebrows at this, now it’s me shaking my head. “No, he’s just –” Ash finishes my sentence for me, “Incredibly attractive? Yeah – I noticed. I’m still bisexual, sweetie.” She winks at me before hopping over the counter and passing Charlie in the store. “My colleague will tend to all of your needs tonight,” she tells him loud enough, so I hear it to. She even turns her head to look at me, just to make sure I heard her. “See you tomorrow, Ems!” she raises a hand as a goodbye before exiting the store. “Tend to all of my needs, huh?” Charlie asks with eyebrows raised. This time, however, it doesn’t sound as fuckboy-y as it did the first night. It has a nervous quality to it due to him not daring to look at me. “Actually,” I say as I reach into my backpack to grab my notebook with all of my songs inside. Most of them written on loose papers, just stuck between pages of the book. “I need you to tend to some of my needs.” He snaps his head up at this, raising his eyebrows at me suggestively. “Not like that,” I scold and make my way to the piano. “I nearly finished the song, but I’m missing something, and I was wondering if you could help me out.” He leans over the paper to take a better look at the paper. Our shoulders touch, and I nearly feel my head explode at the simple touch. “Huh, you did use my bridge,” he says, pointing to the scratched out first version of the bridge and his bridge written very tiny next to it. “That’s not the point,” I say quickly, then point to the part I do want to talk about, “I don’t want to use the exact same chorus twice. I think it might sound better with something like…” I trail off and play a few notes on the piano. “You set me free You and me together is more than chemistry Love me as I am I'll hold your music here inside my hands We say we're friends, we play pretend…” I look up at him for him to add something to it, which only takes him a few seconds. “You’re more to me, we’re everything” I smile at him. I knew he’d be able to fix my problem. “When are you going to show it to me entirely?” he asks after a few seconds. “I am, aren’t I?” “No, I mean, when are you going to sing this with me?” I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I can’t do this yet. The song isn’t tweaked to perfection yet. I need a few more days before I can really show it to anyone. “Not yet, I want to get it perfect before I can show it to anyone.” I put the loose papers back into my notebook after having scribbled down the addition. “It just needs some tweaks.” I repeat, then look up at Charlie to find him already looking at me with that loose smile on his face and his eyes golden. “So…” he then changes the subject after a few seconds of complete silence that feels like a soft blanket, “We practically wrote a song together… I thought you said you wrote alone?” My heart stops beating for a moment as I think about the real reason why I don’t write with anyone else. Uncle Mitch told me to be honest. So, I probably should. Unless I want him to leave me alone for the rest of my life. Which I don’t. I want to see him every day and spend each possible moment with him. “I—” I take a deep breath, “It’s stupid. It’s a lame excuse, never mind.” I want to turn and walk away from him to properly start closing up the store, but Charlie grabs my hand and keeps me from walking away. My eyes glide from his hand holding mine to the arm connected to it and to the face that I’ve come to enjoy looking at. “You can tell me, Ems. Whatever it is. However stupid. I want to know why. I want to know why you won’t write with me. We’d be amazing together. Look at that song we wrote together without even realizing. From what I can see on paper, it sounds amazing. You’re really talented and I think we could make real magic together.” I draw in a deep breath, my hand shaking a little in his. I wonder if he feels how nervous I am. “Okay… It’s, uhm…” He stares at me with tentative eyes, urging me to continue, telling me to trust him. “I used to write songs with my Uncle Robert. He’s the one that taught me everything. He taught me how to read music, how to play piano and guitar, we used to sing together every day from morning until evening. When I got old enough, around twelve years old, we wrote our first song together. Albeit, it was about my bunny that died, but still, it kind of rocked.” The sniffle that comes after the chuckle makes me realize I’ve started crying. Charlie’s chuckle reaches my ears and encourages me to continue telling him. “Uncle Robert died a year ago. So, I haven’t really written with anyone else because it feels like betraying him. It was our thing, you know? I just… it doesn’t feel right.” Charlie reaches up with the hand that’s not holding mine and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. The simplest touch sends shivers down my spine and butterflies into my stomach. “That’s not a lame excuse, Ems. I get it,” he reassures me with a small smile, “I just think that if you ever feel like you could start writing songs with me, we’d be able to create the most beautiful masterpieces, just like the song we wrote together now. Times ten,” I chuckle at that, “In perfect harmony.” My eyes widen at that as an idea pops into my head. I tug my hand out of his in a rush and grab the piece of paper with our song on, just to write “PERFECT HARMONY” at the top. I turn my face to look at Charlie with the beautiful smile on his face again that makes me feel all warm inside. “That’s perfect,” he tells me, “Can you sing it now?” I raise my eyebrows at him, as if saying “Really, bro?” and he raises his hands in defense, knowing exactly what the simple non-verbal communication means. “Now sit down and play some guitar so I can clean up in here.” He salutes me and goes to grab the guitar he always uses when he’s here. He sits down and strums the guitar. “This is tuned different from the last time I was here,” he notices. “Other people use those instruments, Charles,” I tell him, knowing all-too-well it was me who tuned it differently. On Thursday to be exact. I was missing him and decided to play some guitar myself. The exact moment Owen came in and asked me about the Open Mic Night. “You did that, didn’t you?” he raises his eyebrow. I feel my cheeks heating up but turn quickly so he doesn’t see. “Don’t be silly, Charles. Why would I use your guitar when I’m working?” I question whilst keeping myself preoccupied by sorting some papers, mainly to calm my heart down a little. “My guitar?” he emphasizes the ‘my’. “I mean, that guitar.” He stares at me for a moment, and I hear Madi in my mind going “Mmh-mmh…” “Just play your instrument, dumbass.” I return to my job whilst Charlie plays his guitar for a while. Once I’m done and I can lock up, Charlie places his guitar back in its place and joins me at the door. “Hey,” he says, once outside. I turn to face him after turning the key. “Thanks for letting me play in there. It’s nice not having parents yelling at you for not making so much noise.” I offer him a smile, and hope it says enough about how similar my parents are. “No problem, Charlie,” he startles at the lack of full name-usage, “See you tomorrow?” “Yes, definitely. See you tomorrow,” he gives me a wave and the two of us split ways. Ash is right. I am desperately in love with him. I don’t know what it is. Sure, he’s attractive, but I would be repulsed by boys that approach girls like he did that first day. Overly confident, thinking they own the place. Jake’s like that and I learned from my mistakes. But Charlie is just… different. There’s a warm, golden heart underneath all that confidence. Plus, ever since I rejected him that first day, he’s been really tentative and kind of nervous every time he’s around me. Which must mean he’s not the Douchebag he seemed to be. Charlie is… Charlie. And I am absolutely, totally smitten.

Taglist: @parkeret​ @lukeys-giggle​ @hannahhistorian92​ 

Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

[viole-tmoon]

Lamia

- summary: jungkook is a vampire hunter looking to party and wants his crush. oc is a vampire who just got cheated on. what could go wrong

- genre: angst

- word count: 4k

- notes: IN PART 3 THIS FIC CHANGES TO A READER INSERT. lmk what you think! this is a reupload from my old account that got deleted. i renamed this fic!! 

- warnings: vampire fic, indecent exposure, public nudity, talking through a bathroom door, possible death mentions(i don’t remember right now), alcohol mentions and usage, cheating, sex mentions

masterlist - part 1 - part 2 - part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m not gonna drink your piss,” I said sipping on my vodka tonic as I watched Sana point her bottle towards me. She rolled her eyes and picked at the glitter that was all over her boobs.

“It’s just Bud Light. I don’t like it just as much as you do,” she said still obsessed with the annoying glitter. I could almost feel glitter sinking into my hair from watching her. 

As I continued to stare at Sana’s boobs, I saw from the corner of my eyes my ex, who had broken up with me less than three days ago, kissing another girl. 

I was going to puke.

“What’s wrong?” Sana inquired. “Does this push up bra make me look too thirsty?”

I heard her but I couldn’t understand a word she said. I was watching the guy who almost proposed to me tongue punch a girl I was pretty sure was a freshman. 

I wanted to die. I wanted to die.

“Hey,” Sana said snapping my attention back to her. I nodded, eyes glued to the scene before me, and sat my drink on the counter behind us. Sana eventually got the memo and turned to the scene as well.

“Oh my God,” Sana said. “And I thought he had to ‘work things out’.”

“Shut up,” I nearly shouted. I knew I was being selfish and I didn’t care. I snatched my purse off of the counter. “I’m going to the bathroom...”

I could feel my best friend staring at me. It hurt more than she could ever know to feel her pity.

I knew she wanted the best for me but I’d never felt so much pain at once because of someone who I thought loved me. Her eyes asked if I was okay but I wasn’t at all and I wasn’t going to be. I wanted to scream at him and make a scene but my face was red with confused anger and I could feel my tears already falling. I needed to leave. Unfortunately, it was one of my oldest friends, Jongin’s, party so I couldn’t leave without hearing about it tomorrow and being asked every goddamn question in the world. 

Why was this was happening to me?

I was so sure he loved me too. All I thought we needed was a break. I thought we could be happy. I thought we were meant to be beyond time and space. I thought he was my one. Sure we’d broken up a few times but he’d never done that. The scene flashed before me again as I waded through the masses of my colleagues. I was conscious of the weight of their eyes on me. They were probably wondering what was wrong and why did I seem as if I were going to cry? Jongin noticed me and I rushed away. I didn’t want to deal with anyone other than myself right now.

.........................................................................................................................................................

{Jungkook}

“A man’s car is his life,” I said, watching my elder spray paint ‘Learn how to park’ in bright green on some poor fuck’s car. Yoongi had his tongue poked out as he observed his masterpiece. 

“If it’s his life he should take better care of it,” Yoongi said turning around and putting his hand on his juniors shoulder. 

I scratched at my forehead beneath my red cap and let the sound of leaves crunching under my shoes drown out the party. Yoongi was way too quick to anger sometimes, everyone knew it and he had quite a few enemies because of that. I watched Yoongi step closer to his friend's house, I could see that it was brimming with people. They were an hour late because Jin and Namjoon asked them to go to the store to pick up an exorbitant amount of Mountain Dew and 7up. Apparently, Jin was going to ‘surprise’ his ex who had recently left him for their professor.

“Anyways, I heard Jennie was going to be here,” Yoongi spouted as he opened the glass-paned door to the two-story house. He glanced at me with a knowing smile. Jennie was one of the few girls I had ever been interested in actually dating. She just had something about her that made her seem perfect to me. Maybe it was her eyes or the way she smiled when talking about physics but I wanted her.

“Cool,” I said nonchalantly and he chuckled.

The party was fun, while I was sober. While I was detailing a few girls about some of the trouble I’d gotten into last weekend Yoongi found me and convinced me that I had to leave if I didn’t drink five shots: in a row. After that, I wasn’t sure where I was until, about an hour in, Jennie’s eyes pulled me in, requesting that I spend quality time with her. I plowed through the waves of students, stepping on a few shoes and splashing alcohol under my boots. 

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” she said, emphasizing the ‘you’.

“Really?” I said, examining her and edging in on her personal space. Jennie was usually annoyingly busy so I’d never had the chance to get to know her. She was also normally dating someone.

“You never seemed like the type,” she said with a smile. I really tried to not let people know about my personal life at university. Most people in class thought I went home and studied. Everyone I’d met outside of class had a very different picture of me.

“And what type do I seem like?”

“Like you don’t want to be here,” she said. Her face seemed closer than before and I couldn’t help but smile. 

“I mean, I can imagine of a few places I’d like to be,” I said to her and she giggled with her bright smile. We spoke for a few moments longer before I felt the consequences of those five shots and excused myself to the restroom.

On my way up the stairs, I noticed the long forming line next to the nearest bathroom and sighed. Jennie was probably getting chatted up by another guy already and that was all I could think about. I waited for a few moments before I noticed Jongin, Yoongi’s friend who was throwing the party, and asked, in a whisper, if there was anywhere else I could go. He pointed me upstairs and told me that there was a bathroom in his parent's room.

 When I finally found that room, it was hidden behind couples making out, I heard distinct wines and groaned echoing from the bathroom chamber. 

If it wasn’t one thing it was another. 

I knocked on the door, softly. I didn’t receive an answer so I waited and heard a girl continue to cry and talk on the phone to someone.

“Yeah, he kissed her and it was really hot and steamy,” a female voice said, followed by sniffles.

I want to die. 

Jennie was waiting downstairs for me and I needed to see her suck my dick at least once in my life. I couldn’t lose this opportunity because some girl was getting cheated on. I knocked again louder and more rapidly.

“Please solve this drama somewhere else,” anywhere else, “I have to piss,” I said.

“I’m sick,” the voice said with the saddest fake cough I’d heard in my life. The cough reverberated inside what I assumed was a large bathroom.

“Really?”

I heard a hiss at the door, kinky but not what I was really looking for at the moment, and she spoke again. I knew she was back on her phone. At this point, I would’ve been better off waiting in line. I banged my head on the door. I’d never see Jennie at this rate. I’d never have the chance to talk to her while she was single either. I sighed into the door. 

“When I sucked his dick that night I thought we were meant to be,” she said and I couldn’t help but smile at whatever this girl was going through as I banged my head on the wall, continuously, to let her know she was being overdramatic.

“Could you stop?”

“Nope,” I said still banging my head on the door and questioning my life’s purpose.

“You’re being an asshole, you know that?”

“You’re being a b-i-t-c-h,” I said. “Please, I really need to pee. I’m asking nicely.”

“I can’t leave here.”

“Just for like...two seconds, there’s no one around,” I said, but she had already started talking to her phone. 

I couldn’t wait any more and my dick was going to explode in the next few seconds if I didn’t relieve myself so I rushed down the steps. I watched the bathroom line and it had increased into the dining area. I searched for an exit until I spotted one to the left of the steps. I saw two large glass-paned windows filtered by a haze of smoke. I rushed over to the window panes and pushed them open. I gazed at the cerulean pool that reflected the waxing moon. The drizzling rain made ripples in the pool’s moon and I knew my night really wasn’t going to get any better. I eyed the bushes to the left of the pool and immediately ran there. I was finishing up when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Jungkook?” Jennie said. “I’ve be-”

.........................................................................................................................................................

I never wanted to hear Yoongi’s laugh ever again.

“So...let me get this straight,” Yoongi said in between fits of laughter. “She caught you .... outside .... with your whole dick out. The girl you’ve been talking about since school started.” 

Yoongi had been going over the events over and over as if he were a tape recorder. I kept remembering it through flashbacks that I never wanted or cared to see again. Her face was so red and she stammered over her words when I stupidly turned around with my dick out. 

“Can you please shut up,” I groaned. “I get it.”

“She probably won’t even remember.”

She did. 

The next time we spoke it was the most awkward conversation in the universe. She totally avoided my eyes entirely and talked about anything but last night and when the topic came up of if she had fun she went totally silent. Whoever that girl was had ruined any chance I had with her I hoped she burned in hell. 

.........................................................................................................................................................

{Avery}

I spread out my notebooks on the table and sighed while staring at them. History was my worst subject and I knew next to nothing. My next essay was 10 pages long and I knew I was going to fail this course. I was already on probation so I definitely needed all the help I could come by. 

Sana told me that she knew this tutor who helped her out a lot last semester and that she’d slept with him once. Apparently, he was a playboy. I tapped my pencil on the table and peeked at my phone. The guy was already 10 minutes late and I grew more restless with every passing second. I decided to scroll down Twitter with the few moments of freedom I had left. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” I heard the voice echo throughout the room. It seemed oddly familiar. I flipped through my book to the most recent page in my studies. ‘It’s fine,’ I murmured as I scanned the text for my most recently highlighted part. I didn’t even know where to begin, so this guy was a godsend for me. He scanned me over and introduced himself and I did the same. I sensed his gaze on me for a little longer than I thought was normal, so I looked up from my book.

“Do you know Jongin?” He asked as I picked my head up. “Or Yoongi?”

I shook my head and answered that I knew Jongin.

He bit his lip and nodded at his backpack. He opened it and scattered his studying objects onto our now shared table. I looked them over, eyeing them for any more details on his personality. I sighed when all I could spot were ‘ordinary’ things you’d find in any university student’s backpack. I saw pieces of scattered notebook paper, a binder, a few pencils, a textbook, and a small black book. No panties or anything interesting. 

“You just seem familiar, what high school did you go to?” He asked.

I told him and he still scratched the back of his head. He glanced over his pile before I noticed a small ‘aha’ smile on his face but I wasn’t really interested in finding out more. He seemed like the type of guy to play with you and throw you out like you were a cat’s new toy. 

I needed to ask Sana to clarify if this guy was a tutor or someone she had only fucked because he did not care in the least bit what was going on. He said that my questions made no sense and that I was grasping at straws with all of my opinions but he refused to clarify any of my questions or even put me on the right path. I groaned as I watched the clock slog on past an hour and he began putting his books away. 

“So, that’s it?” I said tapping my pen on the desk. I couldn’t help but deem this as a huge waste of my time.

“Yep, I did the best I could, good luck on your test, you’re gonna need it.”

I could only stare at this guy. While watching him I noticed how his brown hair lit up in the white light of our study box and how his pink lips curved as he put away his utensils. He was too attractive. It was almost as if he were an angel.

“I just .... don’t think you actually came here to help me, Jungkook.”

At that statement, he stared at me with a profound amount of incredulity, as if he’d never had someone be so straightforward to him.

“Why do you think that?” he asked.

I told him.

“Ah.”

“Did you like .... lose a girlfriend or something? .... Or do you just not know what you’re doing?” I said while fiddling with my pencil. I had a certain amount of rage inside me. I wasn’t going to let an asshole screw me over. I was so close to graduating and I couldn’t let him get in my way.

“Sana told me you were good and I don’t think she would lie to me .... Look I really need th-,”

“I don’t really give a shit,” he said. It was almost as if we were in a game and his true personality came out. Some part of me was surprised, at this outcome, but most of me was frustrated. 

“Why would you tutor me if you were just going to show up and do nothing.”

“I like getting paid.”

I rolled my eyes, “Please,” I begged. “I really can’t fail this.”

“It’s just a midterm.”

I rolled my eyes and in frustration threw a piece of paper at the door when he closed it, “Fuck you.”

.........................................................................................................................................................

“I wanna die,” I said and leaned on her best friend’s shoulder. I couldn’t believe I was going to fail my history midterm all because of a stupid guy. Sana stroked my hair, while Jihyo watched, and cooed to me that it was going to be okay and that there were plenty of tutors out there.  

“You said he was the best you’d ever had,” I whined. A part of me was worried that she might have meant that specifically sexually but I had no clue. I drank until I couldn’t feel my face and whined to Sana and Jihyo about how I was never going to graduate.

When I had turned away from the bar to get drinks for my friends I bumped into a hard chest. I managed to get half of my beverages on his white shirt. Fuck, was the only word going through my head. I shot out a ‘Sorry’, but immediately regretted it when I looked up and noticed that he held the same scowl I had seen less than 6 hours ago. I wanted to die but I also smiled at the karmic resolution the universe had placed before me. 

“So—rry,” I said slowly, as I stared at his white shirt with a pout.

“Jesus Christ, Avery,” Jungkook said while pulling on the hem of his now discolored shirt. I let out a tiny smile at his dismay.

I rolled my eyes, “Don’t be such a baby,” I said as I grabbed the nearest paper towels and pressed them on his shirt. I felt the impression of his abs underneath and was surprised by how sculpted they were. I stopped pondering for a moment before I heard an ‘ahem’ coming from the annoying guy. I pouted when I noticed that his shirt refused to return to its original state. “Let me get these .... drinks to my friends and we’ll figure something out.”

.........................................................................................................................................................

I stared at the washer and then inspected Jungkook who was in my father’s largest white. He seemed ridiculously cute to have such a bad personality.  I didn’t feel bad at all when I rinsed detergent all over his precious shirt that he had complained about all the way up here. 

“If it doesn’t come out you owe me so much money,”

“How much could a white button-up cost?”

“It’s a Kanye West or-ig-i-nal,” he stated as he sipped on the beer can he’d stolen from my tiny refrigerator. I couldn’t believe this asshole ruined my entire day and college career.

“You know you can go to your dorm and wait,” I said pushing open the laundromat door.

“And miss out on the free alcohol you owe me? No way,” he said.

.........................................................................................................................................................

As soon as I opened my dorm door he spotted my refrigerator once again, much to my chagrin. This guy was going to drink me out of a house and home. I sat on my bed and opened my laptop while I watched him open another can. 

“You really don’t remember me do you?” he said in the most drawled out tone. My bed shifted under his weight. 

“As the worst tutor I’ve ever had? Of course, I do.”

At that statement, he threw the rest of his body onto my bed and I knew I needed him out of my bedroom before I strangled him. He came in here as if he owned the place.

“You,” he said while drunkenly waving a finger in my vague direction, “kept me away from my future girlfriend.” I was glad when I saw that he was losing his ability to speak but upset when he decided my bed was the perfect place to rest.

I made a face of incredulity at his statement and decided to pry his beer from his drunk hand. “Ok .... That’s enough for you,” I said. He must’ve had me confused with someone who gave a shit.

“Maybe even wife .... whatever dude ....,” he said grasping for my drink as I pulled it away from him. He muttered out a few words before falling fully asleep in my room.

.........................................................................................................................................................

{Jungkook}

I was pretty sure I was in a girl’s room. 

Which girl I had no clue. 

I stretched over in the empty bed and searched frantically to no avail for my phone.

“You talk in your sleep and cuddle a lot,” Avery said over the sound of rushing waters to which I let out a ‘huh.’ She came into my view wearing my shirt. What the fuck? I thought as I stared at my dick. Dude!!! I put my hand over my face and peered back at her. She looked really cute in it. Too cute. She wore it as if it belonged to her. I couldn’t help but think about ripping it off of her, for multiple unspecified reasons. 

“Um, did I? Did we?” A lot of me was pissed that I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants with a girl that I hated, but watching her in that made me reconsider. She giggled and I was scared yet excited for her answer

“Yeah, you proposed to me,” she said and covered her face as if she were embarrassed. I felt all of the life drain of me. What was wrong with me? What was wrong with me? When was drunk me going to realize that there are consequences to my actions? The onslaught of giggles made me reconsider my descent into madness. 

“Dude, you’re so gullible,” she said, unbuttoning my shirt. A certain part of me grew in anticipation for the outcome of her actions but I pouted when I found out that she had a shirt underneath. 

“We didn’t have sex...You did try to cuddle me a ton,” Avery said before gliding her way to her bathroom. “You owe me, like, 10 study sessions, dude. You’re welcome,” she said. I was left with my thoughts before she peeked her head back in. “Also, I told Jennie you were gay,” she said with a snigger. 

My whole body froze.

“You’re literally the most gullible person on the planet,” she said while throwing her head back in ungodly laughter.

.........................................................................................................................................................

{Avery}

The first few times we studied I was exhilarated at the pace at which he taught me. After the events of last week, he seemed way more inclined to help me in my struggles. I was surprised by how organized and studious he was in contrast to his asshole exterior. He showed me how he kept track of his ideas and why I needed to study at least once a day. This was our last study session so I needed it to be in a quiet environment, so we decided on his room.

“Did Jennie talk to you today?”

“This isn’t going to help you,” Jungkook said as he watched me answer questions on the quiz he’d created for me. I sighed at the feeling of his scrutinizing gaze on me. I was glad that he was helping me but it felt as if I were in boot camp. The boy didn’t know when to take a break, his energy was overwhelming. I could tell he was leaning in closer when I smelt his musky honey scent creeping in.

“You’re probably not going to understand this one,” he said as he pointed at the question.

“I feel like it’s .... George Washington?”

“You’re closer than .... Napoleon?”

I sighed as I rubbed my finger on the desk. I was really glad for his help. I sensed his shadow creep in on my personal space and heard his chair roll closer to me.

“So, what do you suspect the answer is?” he asked. I could tell he was teasing me and I wasn’t able to focus on my memory. 

I groaned, “Could I get a hint?”

“Do you really think I’m going to give you a hint,” he asked while watching my emotions run over the question he had asked me. I pouted at my page.

“Yes...?” I sighed. We’d been working really hard to make sure I understood everything and I still couldn’t comprehend it. I sat my forehead on my desk. I felt him pull my chair closer to him and I had completely forgotten my last few thoughts. 

“I just feel like you’re stressing yourself out over nothing.”

“Mmm,” I let out. I was more than tired and had considered drinking coffee for the first time in at least two years. I turned my face so that my cheek sat on my cool desk and peered at his big bunny eyes. I noticed his arm wrap around my waist and he started speaking again, but I couldn’t tell what he was saying, I was obsessed with the way his touch felt against my shirt and how cozy his hand felt. I couldn’t stop staring at his lips.

“This is something you should focus on,” he said while pointing at my book. He watched me and I was sure he could tell I was dazed and confused. His lips turned into a grin before he pulled his face to my ear.

“I don’t think you’re listening,” he said, into my earlobe. I was surprised by his closeness and my goosebumps raised. I let out an ‘mmm’ and ‘I am’ absentmindedly. He pulled my chair until I was flush against him. I wanted to whine in embarrassment but I couldn’t even let that croak out of me.  He pulled away from me and my body missed the warmth he presented. My face slid so that my forehead was back on the table to avoid his gaze.

“It’s okay to look at me,” he said while lifting his hand onto my neck to press on any of my tensions. I peeked back up at him and was surprised to find his lips on mine in less than a second. Sana had told me a little about how he kissed but she never explained it like this. She never really gave it the amount of praise it deserved. His lips were like pillows and the gates to heaven. I never wanted someone more in my life. He pulled away from me in a knowing gaze.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, while smoothing his thumb over my lips. I knew he could see the dumbfounded look on my face and I wished I could take it all back.

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[pluto-art]

Syncytium - Chapter 5

Title: Polarization Words: 11,170 (including author’s comments) Rating: T

Fan Fiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13712482/5/Syncytium

Just as always, I highly recommend the FF.net version, as it includes all accentuated words. This has been my favorite chapter to write so far. Consider it a New Year’s Eve gift. Enjoy. :)

October 1st, 1993 - 7:10 PM

The wall to the cloaked laboratory slid open with a soft hiss as Brian T. Globetrotter quickly shuffled out of his private workshop and headed for the elevator. His ears perked a little as a distant sound caught his ear. It sounded like shuffling. Was that coming from the... trash cans? A yearning desire to investigate had to be cut short, however, as a small ding signaled the arrival of his ride. Not like he could wait another minute anyway. He stepped past the steel doors and poked intrusively at Floor One's button, doing his best not to break out in a desperate dance as his pained expression was shut to the basement.

In a back corner of the basement, a trash can wiggled about unsteadily... then went still. A second later and it jumped about again, rocking back and forth, as if someone were tickling its insides mercilessly. Then, with an echoing pop that reverberated off the walls, from its stomach burst forth a tall white mouse, his hair disheveled and his glasses askew as he shook himself, breathed out a welcome sigh of relief, and hopped out of the can before replacing its lid.

"Sorry, Mr. Trash Can. Zort! Thanks for all the help, though!" Pinky apologized, smiling as he refitted the can with its metallic "hat" and patted it kindly.

Even though no one could hear him, he took care to tip-toe as covertly as he could past where the secret laboratory lay, beyond the elevator, and up... up... up the stairs, only exiting onto the first floor landing once he heard the familiar ding of the elevator below, signaling Globetrotter's return to the basement. He smiled and blew out yet another grateful sigh. That was a close one. He'd almost gotten caught!

Down below, Globetrotter stepped out of the elevator, adjusting his pants a touch and facepalming. That one had been painful... He reminded himself that his next doctor appointment was the following Tuesday, and privately hoped that they'd have a better solution - stronger pills or something. This was getting ridiculous.

Pinky hadn't noticed that, in his haste to hide from Globetrotter's prying eyes, he'd dropped his #2 pencil on the ground at the lab's entrance. But Globetrotter noticed. He picked up the orange object and turned it about with bandaged fingers, a crease or two forming upon his thick brow. This wasn't his. #2 pencil? He'd never be that cheap. Someone had been here...

/\/\/\/\/\/\

October 4th, 1993 - 4:14 PM

It was official: The Halloween party was happening at the end of the month - October 30th, a Saturday. Somehow, after four years of the school going without any employees-only holiday gatherings, Pinky had gotten it passed; or, rather, the principal had passed it. Even with him being one for the theatrics, many still couldn't understand why he had no aversion what-so-ever to such an event, especially considering that it was said principal whom had banned employees-only parties in the first place due to an unfortunate incident. Some were convinced that he had an ulterior motive, though what that might be no one could even begin to guess. And so a mystery it remained, although a good number of teachers were unabashedly excited for the party regardless. A few stragglers, such as Mr. Ages and Globetrotter, refused to attend, finding it a waste of time. Completely. Others, however, such as Mrs. Brisby, Dr. Dawson, and Bernard and Bianca had already picked out their costumes. Mr. Ages and Globetrotter rolled their eyes at this. It was generally agreed upon that the party was to be held at Flaversham's house, as he was one of the most handsomely paid and, as a result, owned the largest establishment. He was also incredibly humble about it and often welcomed visitors. The only rule for this autumn gathering was that no children were allowed, and so Olivia would have to room with Mrs. Brisby and her children for the night. Flaversham was agreeable to this. Olivia was not.

Pinky came across her that afternoon, sulking by his door at 4:14 PM. She had been noticeably absent to class, and as the lanky, spectacled mouse approached the young girl, he frowned at her in concern.

She didn't look at him as he knelt down to her level. The floor was, apparently, much more interesting.

"Olivia?" Pinky began, tilting his head a little, the better to look into those stubborn, glossy eyes. "Class wasn't the same without you."

She sniffed, the tears began to fall, yet still she said nothing.

"Olivia...?" he inquired again, reaching out a soft paw and delicately tucking a finger underneath her chin, the better, of course, to tilt her head towards him. He smiled at her, a kindly, encouraging smile. "I'm here."

And the dam burst.

She threw herself into his arms, sobbing vehemently, as only a child can when they've been denied something incredibly important to them. Pinky hugged her right back, patting her back gently.

"Naaaaarf," her teacher cooed in his unusual way, rubbing her head. "Ohhhhh. Tell me all about it, hm?"

"M-My daddy... says I can't go to the Halloween party!" Olivia managed to choke out. "We always do everything together... when I'm not at school! B-But he said that... I can't go because... this is a party only for the adults." At this, she had to pause, for another torrential downpour threatened to burst, making her breath hitch. She was shaking so much that she'd shook her little tam-o-shanter right off her head. "I promise I'll be good! I won't even drink the alkaseltzer!"

She said this all so seriously, and anyone else might have stifled a snort at such an overly-dramatic display, as well as her incorrect pronunciation of "alcohol", but Pinky was not like other adults. He took Olivia's woes as gravely as if he'd just been delivered the news himself. After all, if he was uninvited to one of the coolest parties of the year, especially one he was to be the host of, he'd be pretty bummed out, too.

"Oh, Olivia...," he whimpered along with her, pulling the young girl back from his shoulder so as to address her properly, and felt his heart practically break at the sight of her crimson eyes. "I'm sure your dad would normally love to have you stay! After all, it's not a real party without Olivia." And he winked at her. That turned her frown upside down, if only for half a second. "I'd be really sad to not be invited to a party, too, ya' know."

"R-Really...?" the distraught little student hiccuped, wiping her eyes.

"Of course! But... you know something else?"

"What?"

"I'll bet some of the other kids are sad that they won't get to go to the party with their parents either. Like... Timothy and Cynthia. They can't go either, can they?"

Olivia shook her head.

"And you're the oldest, right?"

Yes.

"You know what that means, don't you?"

No.

"That means that you're in charge of making your own party!"

"You mean... we can have our own private party without the adults?"

"As long as Mrs. Brisby says it's okay. I'll put in a good word for you," Pinky promised. "Oh, and just between us...," and at this, he leaned in towards Olivia, cupping a hand to his mouth. Olivia extended an ear in interest. "I'm rather jealous I won't be able to attend yours. I'm sure it'll be way cooler."

At this, Olivia beamed.

"It'll be the best party you'll have never been to!"

And she picked up her hat from off the floor and slapped it down resolutely upon her furry little head, the redness of her eyes the only trace that she'd ever been crying at all. She spread her arms wide before hugging Pinky tight around the middle, nuzzling into his chest... and letting a few stray tears leak out in the process.

"Thank you, Mr. Pinky...," she whispered under her breath, and Pinky couldn't help but smile as he embraced her in return.

"You're welcome, Miss Olivia," he replied right back, booping her nose and waving after her as she ran off and around a corner.

Olivia's chipper exit was replaced by a much stiffer entrance in the form of Globetrotter, who stared after Olivia in judgement as he straightened a small stack of papers clutched in his grasp. This didn't phase Pinky in the least.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Brain!" he greeted him cheerfully, and for once, possibly the very first time for Pinky, Globetrotter actually smiled at him. Well, perhaps it was more of a smirk than a genuine grin, but Pinky accepted it either way. It was nice to see.

"Evening, my quixotic colleague," Globetrotter responded, his tone and inflection considerably more chipper than usual. "I take it you're excited for the festivities?"

"Ohhh, yes! Are you coming?" Pinky asked, as he stepped into his classroom. Globetrotter followed him to the door.

"I don't participate in such frivolities," said Globetrotter, hands tucked neatly behind his back and expression monotonous as he watched Pinky grab a tall ladder from the back of the classroom and position it underneath a dead light bulb. "You'll just have to survive without my presence."

Pinky tut tut tutted sadly as he picked out a fresh bulb from one of the desk drawers and made for the ladder.

"Not even for the punch, Brain?"

"It's Brian. Mr. Globetrotter, preferably. And, no, not even for what I'm sure will be... a delectable punch."

"Mmm. Shame," Pinky shrugged, as he popped the bulb in his mouth, clumsily climbed up the ladder, and carefully set down his bulb as he fixed to take out the old one. "I was rather looking forward to having you."

"You were?" Globetrotter asked, surprised. No one ever wanted him anywhere.

"Of course! Poit!" responded the other, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You were one of the first ones to welcome me when I came to the school, and you did so very well in my class!"

"That was... just a fluke," Globetrotter responded rather bashfully, averting his gaze a little.

"You're also the only other person who's still around at night when I go home late. It... makes me feel a little less lonely."

Globetrotter cocked an eyebrow at him curiously. He simply couldn't make heads or tails of this creature. Not only did he care about him for the stupidest, most meaningless reasons he could possibly concoct, he also saw him as an... equal. The very thought sent shivers up Globetrotter's spine. Never in his life would he put himself on the same pedestal as this nincompoop, not if he was paid to do it. Ronald Pinkus was beneath him in every way. And yet... there was something, dare he say it, wholesome about how he flat out refused to acknowledge any flaws in Brian what-so-ever, for flaws he had and plenty of them. This he knew, yet hated to admit. But he'd never met anyone who genuinely looked past them; who not only wasn't afraid to approach him, but sometimes purposely sought him out. It was... odd. Touching, but... odd.

He coughed uncomfortably.

"Yes, well... Maybe you should simply... retire earlier. There's more associates around before six o'clock."

"B-But I can't retire, Brain!" Pinky voiced worriedly, screwing in the new bulb, which popped a stale yellow as he wound it into place. "I just got here!"

"I meant rest. Perhaps you should go home earlier in the day, you... undeveloped fetus."

The insult flew right over Pinky's head to land somewhere in an empty corner, where no one else's ears could possibly pick it up. If anything, Pinky beamed at Globetrotter's response.

"Ohhhhhh! Well, that's different then, isn't it? But, oh, wait... No. No no, I couldn't possibly do that either. What about the students?"

"The students?"

"Yes, Brain! Don't your students ask to talk with you about their problems after class?" asked Pinky matter-of-factly, as he promptly descended the ladder, folded it up, and moved it back to its resting place. He hummed a very repetitive little tune as he did all this. Hm hm, hm hm, hm hmmmm. It was monotonous, yet curiously catchy, in a way.

"Noooooooo... Not usually. Sometimes they'll ask a question about a theory or mathematical equation, of course, but that's to be expected," he said, perhaps a bit haughtily as he checked over his fingernails. "I am not privy to the personal issues and well-being of my pupils. They keep to their business and I keep to mine. This is a school, not a therapist's office."

"It's not?"

Brain stared at him, giving him the most deadpan glare he could possibly muster.

"You are, without a doubt, the daftest individual I've ever met."

"Thank you, Brain," Pinky smiled, and he said it genuinely.

With a shake of the head, Brain stepped back out into the hallway, Pinky following.

"If you'll excuse me, I must return to my state of business," said he, and he began to walk away from room 210.

"Oh! Ummm... Brain?" Pinky asked, remaining by his door as he waved an eager hand towards his colleague.

Brain turned to look back at him, one eyebrow raised and hands once more tucked behind his back.

"Will you be eating dinner here at the school tonight?" he asked.

Globetrotter stared at him for a moment, nonplussed.

"Most likely. Why?"

"Would you like to join me in the cafeteria? I have something for yoouuuuu!"

Globetrotter considered this. Normally, his answer would be a firm and stalwart "NO", but perhaps it would work to his benefit. Being closer to Pinky would enable him to carry out his plan much faster and easier. The lanky teacher was such an unsuspecting ignoramus that he could probably finish the job Scott free, even in a public area. Heheh. Finish the job. Oh, it sounded so devious...

"Ccccertainly. Why not?" Globetrotter replied, smirking. "After all, you... have shown yourself to be a successful member of this institution. I suppose it's only fit to honor that with the occasional get-together."

"Oh, wonderful! Six o'clock then?" Pinky grinned, radiant as a firefly as he clapped his hands together rather childishly and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet.

"Yes. Six o'clock. Don't be late," Globetrotter warned, as he turned around to continue in his trek down the hall. He'd barely gotten another foot away from the excited Pinky, however, when he was called back once more.

"Oh! Brain?"

He looked back, a rather miffed expression pulling at his face. If that nitwit mispronounced his name one more time...

"Thank you," said Pinky in a soft voice as he hid his hands behind his back rather bashfully.

"Don't mention it," Globetrotter responded dryly. "It's just a lunch."

"No no. I mean... for the compliment. You really think I'm a success...?"

He said it so sincerely that Globetrotter almost felt sorry for him. Almost...

"Sure," lied his tongue. "You've certainly proved to be of... some worth."

In truth, it was only a partial fabrication. He had shown himself to be successful, if you considered babysitting a bunch of toddlers lucrative. In Globetrotter's eyes, the bumbling professor, if he was even laudable enough to be called that, was only popular from a superficial standpoint - he was likable, he was approachable, he was, as the girls disgustingly called him, "hot", and he was easy-going with children. In short, he was a celebrity, not a teacher. Whatever credentials he did obtain were worthless to someone of Globetrotter's stature; anyone who charmed their way into so highly prestigious of an establishment didn't deserve to hold a position there in the first place. He was enough of a threat to consider ousting due to his fame as a personality, but from an educational angle he posed no competition; at least, not in Globetrotter's eyes. And so he threw him a bone, more as a cover-up than anything, but he didn't expect him to take it so... consolingly. It made him a little uncomfortable.

"Thank you," Pinky said again, beaming. "You've... been the only one to tell me that. Well, at least here anyway. Eheh. Poit..."

Globetrotter frowned at the verbal tick. Few questioned it, aside from the occasional student who ventured to ask what "zort" or "narf" meant. Globetrotter simply took it as a medical condition and left it at that. He'd rather assume as such than entertain the thought that that sorry excuse of a teacher actually enjoyed spewing such nonsense, but, then again, he wouldn't be surprised.

He also frowned at the admittance, somewhat in surprise. Had none of the other teachers thrown him a kind word? Surely they must have. He knew they had, in fact, for he'd overheard their compliments, both in Pinky's presence and not. Most liked him, and those who didn't simply felt sorry for him. At least they'd had some sense to not outright call him a success, because he certainly was not that when it came to earning a place as a professional in the university.

"Just keep doing what you're doing and I'm sure you'll be fine," he spat, perhaps a little too harshly. Pinky noticed not. "You've undoubtedly shown yourself to be popular."

"Oh, not as popular as you, Brain! I'm sure you're still one of the best teachers in the whole school!"

At this, Globetrotter smiled.

"To that I flagrantly concur, my good fellow. To that, I flagrantly concur," grinned the science professor, and he said it so deviously that, if he'd uttered it to any other teacher, they would have flogged him where he stood.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

4:47 PM

Globetrotter clicked on the little green banker's desk lamp that sat on his table. It cast a dim, yellow glow across the mahogany surface, illuminating papers, calculators, a coffee mug, and a gel pen - an expensive one. Rolling in the combination to the lock on his briefcase, he pushed in on the lock buttons, to which the case satisfyingly clicked open. Out of it he pulled: a pair of gloves, some odd-looking tools, a computer chip, a bottle of Aspirin, and a very small, round device that appeared to be magnetic in construction. Indeed, from an outsider's perspective, it looked to be nothing more than one of those tiny black magnets that one stuck to their fridge to pin up such things as receipts and shopping lists. Quite unassuming.

The middle-aged mouse laid out the chip, magnet, and tools, pulled on his gloves with a sharp snap, and got to work. For twenty minutes he tinkered with the device. It was delicate work, requiring much precision, but he reveled in it. Occasionally, his ponderings wandered to, of all things, Ronald Pinkus - how quixotic he was; how precariously he'd climbed up that rickety ladder. Shame he didn't break his neck, Globetrotter thought. Would have made my job much easier...

At 5:10 PM, he stood up from his chair, learned towards his desk lamp, and, with the little magnet pinched between his fingers, held it up to the lamp.

Snap.

It attached to the lamp's outer surface as if it was made to rest there. Globetrotter smirked. Pulling off the magnet, he opened up a side drawer and tested it out on a steel tape dispenser. It worked there, too. The magnet hugged it tightly. Globetrotter pulled it off, nodded satisfactorily, and pocketed it. Of course, this was only half of the test. It would only prove itself after applied.

"Oh, you beautiful little Polarizer," he mumbled fondly, actually kissing the device as he held it securely between his fingers. "Make me proud!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\

6:05 PM

He was late. Of course he was late.

Globetrotter tapped his fingers on a cafeteria table impatiently, checking his watch every now and then, even though there was a clock literally right above him, attached to a pole near the entrance of the meeting area. If there was anything that boiled his bottles more than almost anything else, it was tardiness. There was no excuse for irresponsibility.

The cafeteria was completely devoid of life, save for a few straggling servers behind the counter, the janitors, Jak and Gus, and Globetrotter himself. One thing rather noteworthy, if not a tad bit odd, about Acme School of Arts and Sciences was that all classes generally ended at 5:00 PM. The founder of the university had been strict about the doors closing early so as both school personnel and students had ample time to spend in the evenings with their family and friends, as well as have extra time to commit to homework. It was a rule that was still upheld to this day. Some professors, of course, still stayed past "curfew", mostly to attend to extra duties and grading during the quiet evenings, and even then none of them, save for Globetrotter, and now Pinky, ever lingered past 6:00 PM. The one exception was the theater kids - their rehearsals sometimes went until 7:00 or even 8:00 PM. It was the only reason the cafeteria stayed open until 7:00, and even then it was rare to find anyone at a table this late.

Globetrotter welcomed the silence, of course. It was a time for pondering; a time for planning. But he had no patience for late-comers.

He had half a mind to just get up and leave right then and there when in swooped the Trozologist, waving as he headed in a rush towards his cafe buddy.

"Phew! So sorry I'm late, Brain!" he sighed, flopping down into a chair, a bit too close for Globetrotter's liking. He scooted to the side a few paces. "Mrs. Brisby and I got to talking about cooking and, well, the time just ran away with me! Ha-ha! Zort!"

"Yes... I'm sure it did," Globetrotter groaned, not at all amused. "Are you going to refresh yourself?" he asked. He was already on his third cup of coffee and about to get primed for a fourth.

Pinky looked around at this, concerned, before focusing his attention back on Globetrotter.

"Um... In public, Brain?"

Globetrotter's response was a deep, planted facepalm. What an absolute boob.

"The drinks, you ignoramus. The drinks! Are you doing to get a drink?!"

"Pfff. Well, why didn't you say so, Brain?" Pinky chuckled, rolling his eyes and standing right back up again. "Oh! I almost forgot. This is for you."

And he set down in front of Globetrotter a very pretty, very lovingly wrapped little present that, somehow, he hadn't noticed before. He stared at it rather worriedly, as if it might explode.

"Well, go ahead, silly!" Pinky encouraged him, nudging him forward with a nod of the head.

"Th-Thank you," Globetrotter said, not quite sure how to respond. He unwrapped it with delicate fingers, loosening first the decorative red bow tied about the box, then carefully undoing the rose-patterned ivory paper underneath. Inside was a dark green box with a lid on it. He slipped off the lid, peered inside, and pulled out...

"For you!" Pinky exclaimed happily. "Do you like it?"

It was a black coffee mug, with the words 'Best Teacher Ever!' written in white upon the front. It was quite a nice mug, despite the ridiculous phrase - snug in his hands and smooth to the touch. He was equal parts flattered that Pinky had recognized his fondness for coffee and embarrassed that it was that apparent.

"Thank you...," he answered awkwardly. He'd probably have to blot out the text later. Being associated with anything that generic churned his stomach. But he did like the mug. "I... needed a new one."

"Now you can use it with your new coffee maker!"

"You bought that for me...?"

"Of course! Who else would I buy it for?" blurted out Pinky, rolling his eyes. "I mean, everyone can use it, but... I ordered it for you really."

To this, Globetrotter could only stare disbelievingly. He swallowed thickly. What... was with this mouse?! Buying him a mug. Saying he made him less lonely at night. Ordering a coffee maker just so he could enjoy his days a bit more? No one was this nice. Surely, there was some ulterior motive.

"What's the catch...?" he asked, looking serious. There was always a catch. Always.

"Catch, Brain?" inquired Pinky, cocking his head in confusion. "Um... I haven't caught anything lately, Brain. Unless you count this fish," he said, and he pulled out of his pocket an actual, live minnow in a small jar filled with water. "Hellooooo, Jerry!" said Pinky... to the fish. "I caught him in the lake this morning! Still need to buy him a tank, though. Don't I, Jerry?"

Globetrotter simply stared at him, nonplussed, his mouth hanging open a little.

"Go on! Back you go!" said Pinky, tucking the little minnow back into his pocket and smiling at Globetrotter happily as if he hadn't just pulled a live fish out of his coat. "Oh! That's right. Drinks! Aren't you going to get yours, Brain?"

And off he trotted, heading in the direction of the cafeteria to grab, as usual, an odd assortment of foods and a drink. Globetrotter nervously looked behind him at Pinky, as if he might set fire to something... or pull a bazooka out of his pants... or... something. At this point, he didn't know what to expect from this mouse, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. Perhaps he was biting off more than he could chew...

But no. He shook his head at the thought. Pinkus was simply an idiot. A kind... thoughtful... very sweet idiot... But an idiot nonetheless. And no amount of good deeds was going to stop him in his plot. Nevertheless, he supposed it wouldn't hurt to at least try out the mug. He highly doubted it was bugged.

One mug of coffee, and a tray of assorted foods... plus a cup of Sprite, later, and Pinkus and Globetrotter were back at the table, the former laden down with treats, the latter content with his single, fourth serving of Italian Roast. Pinky helped himself eagerly to a sprinkle doughnut, offering Globetrotter a bite as he chewed happily.

"No, thank you. Bad for my... thighs," Globetrotter uttered lamely.

Pinky shrugged and finished off the tasty confection before diving into another. Globetrotter blew on his coffee before taking a tentative sip. It was good. Rich, flavorful, with a bite at its closure. And his lips conformed nicely about the mug. Yes, he liked this mug. Not that he'd ever say that out loud or anything.

For once, Pinky wasn't talking; so preoccupied with a sugar doughnut was he. Normally, Globetrotter would have welcomed this silence, but he'd gotten so used to Pinky always being a chatterbox whenever he was around him (which, admittedly, wasn't terribly often) that he felt... a little uncomfortable not making conversation, strangely.

"So, um...," he began, in a lame attempt to deaden the silence. "What is your opinion on asymptotic analysis?"

"Hm?" Pinky inquired, eyes wide and cheeks bulging with a mouthful of doughnut as he smiled puffily at Globetrotter.

Too complicated. He's not going to understand that, you moron. Globetrotter floundered. He wasn't good at this. Small talk was not one of his strong points.

"Um... chaos theory?"

Pinky swallowed.

"Ohhh! You mean like in Jurassic Park?"

"What?"

"Well, that's what Ian Malcolm always talked about. Chaos theory! Although, personally, I liked Ellie Sattler more. Laura Dern is such a good actress and I loved her in Rambling Rose! She was actually Spielberg's first choice for the role in Jurassic Park, did you know?"

He said all this as he grabbed a bottle of ketchup and mustard each and squirted their contents all over a hotdog he'd set in a bun. At the word "such" he'd given a very feminine wave of the hand that Globetrotter highly disapproved of.

"I did not know," Globetrotter replied, taking a dainty sip of his coffee.

"She also auditioned for the role of Clarice in Silence of the Lambs, but I really do think Jodie Foster was a more appropriate selection. She's quite versatile. I heard she's looking to get back into the directing field soon..."

And on and on he went, sometimes speaking between bites, other times continuing on with a mouthful of food, his thick mumbles so incomprehensible that Globetrotter could only catch a "George Lucas" here and a "Princess Bride" there. It was downright humorous to him that this mouse, who knew so little about the subjects upon which this school was founded, was incredibly versed in filmography. Then again, he supposed it was only appropriate, considering the flamboyant showman that he was. And this was a school of sciences and arts, after all. But then, why hadn't he majored in theater? Trozology, whatever it was, seemed a waste of time.

"You seem to know a lot about cinema," Globetrotter voiced, finally able to find a break in the conversation after a solid ten minutes. The entire time, he'd covertly tried to roam about Pinky's attire with a sharp gaze, looking for anything magnetic he could possibly attach his device to. He eventually settled on Pinky's name tag. Of course. They all sported one, and they were made of metal. If he could somehow stick it on the back...

"Oh, I love the arts!" Pinky responded, clasping his hands together and batting his eyes dreamily. "All the movie magic and the passion and the creativity...!"

"Pinky, might I... see your badge for a moment? Only there's a nasty blemish on it. I... certainly wouldn't want you to walk around with a dirty tag."

"Why, thank you, Brain. How thoughtful of you."

And he unpinned his badge from his coat and handed it to Globetrotter. It was as simple as that.

"So, if you're so into the arts then why didn't you become an actor... or something?" Globetrotter stalled, as his right hand poked about in his jacket pocket to ensure that the magnet was still there. It was. He plucked it out, hiding it in his right hand as he pretended to rub at a spot on the badge with the end of his coat, surreptitiously planting the little magnet on the back of the badge as he did so. Piece of cake.

"Oh, I was going to, Brain! Narf! But I found something else I love much more...," he said, resting a cheek on his left hand as he gazed off into space, a toothy grin curled about his visage.

"Trozology?"

"Mmhm."

"What is Trozology?"

"You don't know, Brain? It's the study o-"

But at that moment, the cafeteria doors burst open to reveal a very angry set indeed: Dex, followed close behind by Maisy, Marvell, Gadget, Tillie, and one other boy rat whom Pinky didn't recognize. Dex and Maisy were shouting at the top of their lungs, oblivious to the few stragglers lingering about the room.

"-never messed with your business before! I know it's important to you. Why do you think I gave you your space?!" Dex yelled at his sister, a plethora of expressive hand gestures complementing his outburst.

"You never 'gave me my space', Dex. You're always hanging out after my classes; checking in on me when I'm trying to relax. How is that 'giving me my space'?!"

"Oh, man. Um. Lemme think. Maybe it's because... I care about you?!"

"Maisy, come on. He's taken a lot of hits for you," Gadget said, stepping forward.

"Oh, like, grade hits? Detention? You'd know a lot about hits, wouldn't you, Dex?"

"Girl, come on. Maisy's right," Marvell uttered, also stepping up. "You're laying it on too hard."

"YOU WANNA TAKE HER SIDE?! THEN FINE! I know you care more about her and Dex than me!"

"I didn't say that!" Marvell countered, looking hurt.

"This is about Mom, isn't it?! You don't know ANYTHING about taking hits!" Maisy practically screamed at Dex, advancing towards him with the ferocity of a tyrannosaurus, causing him to back up with every step she took.

None of them had yet seen Globetrotter and Pinky off to the side, and the janitors stayed as silent as the mice they were from a shaded corner. Pinky looked on the verge of standing up to intervene, but Globetrotter, surprisingly, put out a hand to stop him.

"It's not about Mom! It's... about everything!" Dex choked out. "And don't tell me that I don't know anything about taking hits, Maisy! You don't know the half of it..."

"The hell do you mean about that?" Maisy softened up, but only for a moment. She turned swiftly 'round to glare at her friends. "THE HELL DOES HE MEAN?!"

All of them shuffled about awkwardly, looking embarrassed. Gadget rubbed at her arm, and Marvell bit her lip suspiciously, gaze firmly planted to the floor. But the boy rat looked the most broken of all, and it was him that Maisy targeted.

"What does he mean, Red?"

Red directed his eyes downward, his ears appropriately turning the color of his namesake.

"What does he mean?!"

"I... I promised I wouldn't say, Mais!" he sputtered out, a paw coming up to rub at a sore spot on the back of his head.

"Dex?!" Maisy spat, rounding back on her brother.

"You attend this school just as much as me. You should be smart enough to figure it out," Dex replied, and with that he walked off towards an exit on the opposite end of the cafeteria, purposely ignoring his sister's pleas.

"Tell me what you mean, Dex!"

No response.

"DEX! Tell me what you mean!"

It was as she started crying that Pinky finally made his presence known... via slipping off his chair. It clattered down with its owner, the noise echoing loudly off the walls and pulling every eye in the vicinity towards him. Globetrotter jumped and glared at Pinky.

"O-Oh! Ummm...," Pinky stammered, standing up in a flash and ringing the end of his coat in his hands awkwardly.

Maisy's cheeks turned bright pink. She full out burst into tears as she turned tail and ran back into the hallway, her friends casting one last embarrassed look at the teachers before sprinting off after her, occasionally calling her name.

Pinky swallowed thickly. Globetrotter sighed, long and exhausted, through his nose.

"Why did you stop me, Brain?" Pinky queried, dusting off his coat and propping his chair back up.

"Because sometimes people just need to talk, Pinky," Globetrotter said, slapping the now tampered with badge back on the table for Pinky to take, which he did, pining it on his jacket, none the wiser.

"I don't think that was talking, Brain. That was more like... screaming."

"Well, people need to scream sometimes, too," Globetrotter nipped, draining the last bits of coffee from his mug and heading towards the sink to wash it out. Pinky followed him, demolished tray of food and empty soda cup in hand.

"Have you screamed sometimes, Brain...?" Pinky asked delicately as he tossed his trash and replaced the tray.

Globetrotter didn't answer right away. He looked thoughtful as he washed out his cup.

"Sometimes...," he finally responded, shaking the mug to rid it of the last few droplets of water.

"Were you hurting then, too?"

Another pause. Globetrotter stepped over to a paper towel dispenser, ripping off a piece to dry his cup with.

"Yes."

Globetrotter looked curiously over at Pinky, whose ears had drooped so low that he looked more like a lop rabbit than a mouse. He actually made to step forward, but Globetrotter, already smelling some form of physical affection, backed up, a hand raised in protest.

"Save your pity."

"I'm sorry, Brain. Poit..," Pinky whispered, and he truly was.

"It's fine," replied Globetrotter.

There was an awkward pause, in which neither of them spoke for a solid ten seconds, Globetrotter running a finger along the ring of his new mug, Pinky shuffling his feet uncomfortably.

"I... really should be going. Thank you for the mug. It's... good," Globetrotter ended lamely.

"You're welcome," Pinky said, the smallest of smiles crawling up his face. "Thank you, too."

"For what?"

"Sitting with me."

Globetrotter blinked. It was as if heaven itself was shining a spotlight on him, throwing every opportunity at him to find compassion for this mouse and feel guilty for what he'd done. Well, they'll have to try harder than that, Globetrotter thought. He wasn't going to relent that easily. And, in the most monotonous tone he could muster, he responded with a simple:

"Mmhm."

But the smile stayed. It took a lot, it seemed, to completely break Pinky.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

October 7th, 1993 - 4:02 PM

One of the first things Globetrotter noticed about his brilliant Polarizer, once it had been planted on Pinky, was that... it didn't work. At least, it didn't work on children. Said device had one purpose and one purpose only: redirection. From it a frequency was emitted that affected anyone within five feet of Pinky telepathically. They would be suddenly and inexplicably hit with a desire to preoccupy themselves with some other activity and, as such, never engage in interaction with Pinky for more than a few seconds. As long as he wore the name tag, he couldn't be touched. Poof. His newfound popularity would come to a screeching halt, no one would converse with him ever again, and he'd have no choice but to leave the school, friendless and jobless, leaving Globetrotter back on top as the most notable individual in the school. Or, at least, that's what it was supposed to do.

But it didn't. As usual, Olivia, Timothy, and Cynthia, along with Teresa and one or two others, were at Pinky's classroom at four o'clock sharp the next day, Evinrude arriving twenty minutes later (for the snacks only, of course). The day after that there was an actual line of kids standing outside the door fifteen minutes early, waiting to get in, and the day after that the line was even longer. Globetrotter could only assume that there was some fault in the hardware. But he'd tested it out on himself an hour before he'd met up with Pinky and it had worked just fine then. What was the problem? Perhaps it simply just didn't work on kids, for some reason. But that couldn't be right... Teresa was one of the college students in the school and it didn't work on her either, nor on any teacher that approached Pinky. Strange. He'd have to get the device back and tinker with it some more, he supposed. Not that that would be much of a problem. Considering how easily he'd obtained it last time, snatching it back, he figured, would be a breeze. He decided to simply wait for the right opportunity and nab it back.

Whereas Globetrotter's experiment had failed, Olivia's had gone above and beyond; in fact, it had practically skyrocketed. She now had a total of 271 signatures on her petition, an overwhelming success, in the eyes of her and Pinky. Pinky said that they had enough to approach the principal with. There was just one little problem: to ask the principal to pass their petition, that meant they had to, well, talk to the principal, something no one ever wanted to do. There was only one person in the entire school who wasn't afraid of him, that person being Globetrotter, and even he avoided the angry little maniac as much as possible. Pinky wasn't entirely averse to approaching the headmaster, mainly because he'd simply never met the guy, although there was still a lingering feeling of trepidation due to how unfavorable people talked about him. But he wasn't going to let that stop him. Olivia's petition needed to be signed off on, and he was going to do everything in his power to see that it did!

And so, that afternoon, directly after class, the hallways of Acme School of Arts and Sciences found Pinky marching down the hallway, Olivia's hand in his, as he and his student headed for the principal's office.

They stopped outside the door. Was it just their imagination, or did it feel a bit colder down this part of the hallway? It was a rather darker portion of the school - not as many offices and classes were down here, some of the lights had blown out and hadn't yet been fixed, and the office was situated right in the center of a long strip of hallway, making it the furthest away from the windows. The place simply had a... foreboding atmosphere about it.

Olivia nuzzled closer to Pinky. He smiled and squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"Put on your helmet, Olivia."

"Like on our imaginary trip into the caves?" Olivia whispered, wide-eyed.

"Mmhm."

Resolute, Olivia let go of Pinky's hand and situated her tam-o-shanter more snuggly atop her head.

"Okay. Let's go fight the dragon," said she.

Pinky knocked on the door - once, twice, three times...

"Come in..," came a voice from the other side. It sounded pleasant enough, but there was something a little... off about it; a sprinkle of deviance behind the honey-suckle tone.

Pinky opened the door.

The inside of this room was, if possible, even darker than the hallway. Like Globetrotter, the headmaster owned a green banker's desk lamp, albeit two instead of one, each on opposite sides of a dark black table, and it served as the only lighting in the entire vicinity. Besides a plethora of books encased in rich wooden shelving behind him, a couple of comfortable chairs spread about, a trash can, a blackboard, and a television in a far corner opposite the principal, the room was surprisingly plain. The most interesting thing about it was a standing globe of the world, one of those expensive ones that twirled around and had little red lights on it that clicked on to highlight various hot spots on the map as you spun it. Olivia liked those. She had an overwhelming desire to spin it, but was too scared to ask, especially seeing as the globe was literally right next to the principal's desk. The further away she could be from him, the better.

"Come in, my children, come in! Oh, do come closer to the desk. You expect an old hamster such as myself to see you properly from that far away?" the principal beckoned. He sat in a very tall, very black chair behind the ebony desk. Unlike the uniform layout of the room, he appeared quite relaxed. A little too relaxed, perhaps. He was reclining, bare feet up on the desk, and decked out in a comfortable-looking brown suit and pants set, complete with checkered tie. He looked as if he ruled the world, and the smirk on his face as he smoked from a thick, piping cigar only cemented this.

Pinky didn't think he looked that old - fifty, maybe? Around the same age as Brain. But he also didn't want to be disrespectful, and so he moved tepidly forward, his steps more of a shuffle than a walk, Olivia sliding along a couple paces behind him. Now that she was actually in the room, she didn't feel quite so brave.

"I hear you've arranged something of a party," the golden hamster addressed Pinky. "I must say, I'm quite intrigued. We haven't had an employees-only gathering in four years! I'm impressed you managed to pull it off."

"Th-Thank you, Headmaster," Pinky mumbled.

"Please. Call me Snowball," the hamster said gentlemanly, holding up a hand. "No need for formalities. And who might you be?" he asked Olivia, leaning over a little, the better to see her.

"O-O-Olivia, Sir."

"Olivia. You know, the name 'Olivia' comes from the word 'olive'. The olive tree is a symbol of peace and fertility, something we all hope to breed in this school. Fertile minds; obedient pupils. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Y-Yes, Sir," Olivia agreed, although, privately, she didn't understand what he was getting at at all.

"Please, Mr. Snowball, we've come to you with a request," Pinky interrupted, holding up the petition.

"Oh?" Snowball answered, cocking an eyebrow as he took a long, steady swig from the cigar and blew out an impressive ring. Olivia watched it float around the room, intrigued despite herself. It collided upon the chalkboard and disintegrated in a soft huff.

"It's a petition for a new baseball stadium," Pinky continued, holding out the paper for Snowball to take, which he did, looking it over without much interest. "We got two hundred and seventy-one signatures! I... hope that's enough?"

Only now did Pinky realize that he was twisting his tail in his paws something terrible, leaving little creases in it. He stopped immediately. Olivia had been biting at her fingernails. She also stopped as soon as she saw Pinky do so.

"So... you want me... to sign off on this?" Snowball asked, tossing a rather deadpan look in Pinky's direction.

Pinky gulped.

"Is that... all right? A lot of your students would love to have this back on the grounds! You'd be able to develop a team to compete with the other schools. We could win trophies and good sports reputation!"

"And it would be a P.E. class to add to your curriculum," Olivia added. Pinky smiled at her, impressed.

"Yes! Absolutely!"

"Hmph. You think people would go for this drivel? Two hundred signatures from a pool of three thousand is hardly enough to turn heads," he retorted, setting the petition down on the desk and pushing it towards them so hard that Pinky was thankful he was able to catch it before it clattered to the floor. "I must say, I'm not very impressed."

"B-But, it would do wonders for the school!" Pinky pleaded. "And Miss Olivia here worked so hard to get all the signatures. Didn't you, Olivia?"

"Yes, I did," she admitted, suddenly a bit bolder. Fight the dragon. Fight the dragon. "And you shouldn't be so retorshical. All the other schools have sports teams!"

Pinky gave her a side glance. Too far. Too far...

Olivia licked her lips, in-taking a deep breath for her next burn.

"I think you're scared."

And she put her hands on her hips, the better to complete the effect.

Pinky bit his lip. Olivia...

Snowball frowned. Slipping his feet off the table, he leaned fully forward over his desk, his face mere feet from Olivia's, and growled into her face: "I'm scared of nothing."

Olivia had closed one eye at this, the better to block out the dragon's harsh stare... and rancid breath. He even smoked like a dragon. But she stayed resolute.

"Then prove it!"

"Um... M-Mr. Snowball, if I may...?" Pinky barged in, desperate to fan the flames. It was bad enough she'd poked the dragon's eye in his own cave. They didn't need the fire, too. "Perhaps there's something... we could do for you in return? As a trade?"

That settled Snowball a little. He sat back in his chair, slightly amused.

"Hmph. What could you possibly offer to me?"

"Well, um... A special spot in the party, perhaps? Or a gift...? N-Narf..."

"No...," Snowball replied, waving it off and taking another smoke from his cigar.

"A... ticket to Disneyland?" Olivia offered helpfully.

"Pass."

"A... um... coupon for the world's biggest che-"

"Wait... Wait," Snowball said, cutting Pinky off. "The party, you said... Who's coming to the party?"

"Oh, um, everyone!" Pinky smiled nervously.

"Almost everyone...," Olivia mumbled under her breath, crossing her arms indignantly, but Pinky gave her a look that very clearly told her to shush or else.

"Will Globetrotter be there?"

"You mean Brain?" Pinky asked. "Oh... No, I don't think so. I invited him, but he... said he wouldn't make it."

"Brain? You call him Brain? Ha-ha!" Snowball laughed, actually clutching his chest as he reeled back in his chair. "Ha-ha! Ohhh, that's rich. I'll bet he just loves that."

Poor Pinky and Olivia didn't know what to say. They tried to laugh along, but it only came out sounding unbearably awkward, and so they stopped.

"My good fellow, you've convinced me. I'll sign your insipid little petition."

"Really?!" Pinky and Olivia bother spurted out at once, hardly daring to believe their ears.

"On one condition: Get dear 'Brain' to come to the party. It's been an age since I've seen him, you see, and I'd love to... catch up on things, as it were. Do that, and your stadium is as good as built."

Pinky and Olivia looked at one another. Convincing the most stubborn individual in the school to attend Pinky's party when he clearly wasn't interested wasn't going to be easy, but they'd come this far. Surely, they could try again... and again, if they had to? Wasn't the school worth that? Weren't the students worth it?

"Do we have a deal?" Snowball pressed them, a nasty smirk upon his sour face.

Olivia nodded at Pinky. Pinky nodded back. He looked Snowball straight in the eye.

"Deal," said Pinky.

"Deal," said Olivia.

And they shook hands with him, Snowball squeezing down a little too tightly.

"We have a bargain. I look forward to seeing him at the party. Hm hm. Brain. Ha! Oh, how positively affluent."

And they left him as such, cigar in hand, laughing his head off like an absolute maniac.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

7:24 PM

Dr. Brian T. Globetrotter snapped shut his weighted briefcase. He exited his classroom, shut the door, and locked it, as he always did. Another night; another opportunity to work in the lab. While he hadn't managed to get his magnet back, he'd certainly attended to other projects that required his attention. There was one he'd been quite eager to finish for some weeks. Tonight was the night.

Professor Ronald Pinkus opened his classroom door, but did not exit. Students first. A young boy mole stepped out of the classroom, his face still a little wet, but a smile tickling his face. He shuffled out into the hallway, Pinky and Olivia following him.

"Thank you, Mr. Pinkus," the diminutive mole said gratefully. "I wish my mom would listen to me like you do."

"Think nothing of it. Come by whenever you need to talk, okay?"

"Thank you, Sir." And, shyly, he stepped up and hugged him round the middle. "Please don't ever leave."

"I won't if I can help it, Toby," promised Pinky. "Promise."

"Come on, Toby! We're late!" Olivia kindly signaled. At the end of the hallway, Mrs. Judson stood waiting for them.

With a last squeeze, Toby parted and waved good-bye, keeping his eyes on Pinky until he turned the corner and was lost from sight. Pinky continued waving, even after his student had disappeared. He smiled warmly and sighed, deeply and satisfactorily. Closing his classroom door, he walked down the hallway... and stopped as he heard the familiar ding of the elevator. He turned in the direction of the noise, blinking. This was the fourth time he'd caught Brain staying up late to do... whatever it was he did behind that wall in the basement. He'd been too nervous to follow him the last couple of times, seeing as he'd almost been caught initially, but... perhaps it couldn't hurt to take another peek?

Two minutes later saw a pair of loosely-tied sneakers tip-toeing down the stairwell, heading covertly in the direction of the basement. He stuck his nose around the corner. No sign of him. Already, Globetrotter had gained access into the secret lab, oblivious to the intruder whom had followed him to his private dungeon. Carefully, he stepped towards the wall where he knew a hidden panel rested. Had he been a bit more observant, he might have noticed something following him this time - a camera, set high up in a far corner of the hall, small enough to not draw too much attention to itself, yet following his every move all the same.

Pinky pressed an ear up to the wall, listening intently. He didn't even bother with the panel this time; he knew it wouldn't open for him. Sure enough, he heard clinking and clanking and the occasional typing of what sounded like computer keys echoing through the room beyond, barely audible, but still within his range of hearing.

"Naughty naughty, Brain," Pinky whispered to himself. "What are you doing back there...?"

Suddenly, the noises stopped. No clinking. No clanking. No typing of keys. Pinky froze. He pressed his ear ever harder to the door. Last time this happened, he'd been able to pick up the tell-tale sign of footsteps heading for the door, but this time he heard nothing. Perhaps Brain had sat down to read a book? He almost stopped breathing, listening as hard as he possibly could...

HISSSS!

Without any warning, the door slid open, Pinky giving way as he fell to the ground, one half of his body inside the lab, the other half still laying out in the basement hallway.

"AH-HA! So it was you!" Globetrotter exclaimed, his anger unmistakable as he grabbed Pinky by the shirt collar and, with surprising strength, tossed him full on into the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

Pinky shuffled up onto his feet in haste and backed up towards the opposite wall, slamming into a metallic shelving unit full of jars, beakers, and other unusual things he couldn't put a name to. Globetrotter was advancing towards him, looking positively livid as he brandished what looked to be an X-Acto knife at him. Forget Snowball. He could handle that. This was terrifying.

"Completely innocent. HA! I knew you were up to something as soon as I saw that pencil outside my door last week. What are you after? What concoction of mine have you been looking to pilfer?!"

"I-I..! N-Nothing, Brain! I didn't even know about this place until last week! Honest!"

"HA! A likely tale. For all I know, you could have known about this lab since you got here; perhaps even applied because of your knowledge of this facility. Are you a spy? A NASA scientist? Who are you working for?!"

By this point, he was full on in Pinky's personal bubble, a hand practically choking Pinky by the tie as he brandished the X-Acto knife under his chin threateningly. Poor Pinky was near tears.

"I'm not a spy! Honest, Brain! Really I'm not! Please don't turn me into mince meat!" he begged, holding his hands up to shield his face as best he could, a near impossibility, seeing as Globetrotter was so invasive. Nevertheless, the rabid teacher loosened his grip a little.

"You swear you didn't know about this place until recently...?"

"Mmhm!" Pinky nodded fervently, his face full on wet, eyes shut tight as he tried, and failed, to keep the tears at bay.

"Hmph..." Brain conceded, grip loosening further. Well... fine. But don't touch anything! Understand?"

Another fervent nod, eyes still closed, and Globetrotter released him. Pinky clutched at his neck, gasping for breath as he rubbed at the spot where the tie had pulled on him. He rubbed at his eyes, the better to wipe away his pitiful tears.

"Wh-What is this place...?" he choked out, still catching his breath.

"My laboratory," Globetrotter replied stiffly, hopping into his computer chair and proceeding to continue in his voracious typing. "Don't touch anything."

Pinky nodded, even though Globetrotter couldn't see him. Don't touch anything. Already, he wanted very much to tickle the top of a very brown, very fuzzy-looking object sitting on a shelf near the entrance, but he honored Globetrotter's request. He didn't say he couldn't look at anything, however, and so Pinky looked, eyes wide in astonishment as he meandered about the strange facility.

It wasn't a terribly large area, but what he'd managed to fit inside of it was impressive. There were shelves of bottles, papers, strange electrical appliances, various scientific and artistic tools, rows and rows of books, and two computers, one of which Globetrotter was currently working at. A ghostly green glow hung from a double row of long lights recessed into the ceiling above, the emerald hue occasionally peppered with a soft, yellow light from a table lamp here or there. Even in this room Brain had to have his mahogany, it seemed, that being reserved for the bookshelf. But the most intriguing item in the room, by far, was a large, bubbling... something. It looked somewhat like a giant beaker, albeit a bit more bulbous, and with long tubes branching off here or there, like the stretched arms of a huge, metallic octopus. Inside bubbled some greenish concoction. Pinky wondered what it was, and tapped at the glass curiously.

"I said don't touch anything," Globetrotter warned without turning his head.

"Oh. Sorry...," Pinky apologized, taking a step back. "What is it?"

"It's for my latest plan."

"W-What plan is that, Brain?"

Brain sighed, pushed himself away from the desk, and stood up out of his rolling chair to stare at Pinky.

"If I tell you, you must solemnly swear not to spread a word about this to anyone," he breathed threateningly. If Pinky really was as big of an idiot as he appeared, he'd actually keep his mouth shut and not tell the authorities. Strangely, he was probably the only individual in the entire school whom he could trust to keep quiet. Knowing someone this daft had its perks, he supposed.

Pinky nodded and raised a hand, as if taking an oath.

"I promise, Brain!"

"Hmph. Fine. I'm planning... to take over the world!"

He said this in a flourish, hands raised in ecstasy. Pinky wouldn't have been surprised if lightning had shot out of nowhere at such a forward gesture. He'd never seen Brain this passionate before.

"The... whole world, Brain?" Pinky gasped, incredulous.

"Of course," the scientist replied, tucking his hands behind his back. "This Earth has been in a state of turmoil for years. With my genius intellect and general prowess, I'd be able to make it a better place - create a richer, more fulfilling existence for people to live in."

"Ohhhhhh! You mean like charity work! Right, Brain? Better places for people to live and all that? Good food; warm homes; happy little children playing in the yard with their puppies!" Pinky voiced, hands clasped together against his cheek as he grinned widely at the thought. "Oh! And better school systems! And no more people getting hurt. And plenty of money for everyone!"

"Why, yes, Pinky, that's... exactly what I'm talking about. With... the occasional adjustment here or there, of course."

"Like what?"

"Oh, you know... A specific rule set for people to abide by. Recognizing me as their leader. World peace. That sort of thing..."

"Sooooo... sponsorship then?"

"Um. Sure... If... that's what you want to see it as."

"Well, I think that's just wonderful, Brain!"

"Y-You do...?"

"Well, of course!" Pinky continued, prancing about the room now, not at all shy about toying with a test tube or a Newton's cradle. For once, Brain didn't stop him. "We all could use a better place to live in! Peace and love for everyone! That's what I teach every day, Brain."

"Do you?"

"Of course. If I'd known about this place earlier I would have supported you a long time ago! Although, I don't know why you have to hide it all down here. Don't you want everyone to know what good you're planning on doing for the Earth?" Pinky asked, shrugging confusedly.

"U-Uhm... Well, it has to be a secret. If anyone knew about this, they'd... probably try to stop me," Globetrotter fumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Why?"

"Well, you know... Taking over the world. It's... not exactly a normal thing to put on one's "to-do" list."

"Well, it should be!" Pinky retorted, hands on his hips. "If everyone was as kind as you the world would be a better place!"

Just then, Pinky gasped, struck with a sudden idea.

"What?" Brain asked, a touch worried.

"Brain! What if we keep it a secret until allllll of your plans are ready, and then we surprise everyone with a big, save-the-world party!"

"Ummm... S-Sure! That's... kind of what I had in mind, actually."

"Egad! It's brilliant! I'll handle all the party preparations when the time comes, don't worry. I'll get balloons and decorations and... OH! Cake! We have to have cake, Brain! But will two hundred cakes be enough to feed everyone?"

"Pinky...?" Brain asked tentatively. "You... promise you won't tell anyone about this, right?"

"Of course not, Brain," Pinky said matter-of-factly, waving a hand. "I mean, you did almost kill me back there, but now I see that you just didn't want to spoil the surprise!"

"So... no blabbing?"

"My lips are sealed, Brain," he promised, making a "zipping" motion across his mouth with his thumb and forefinger. "But only if you'll let me help!"

He meant it in jest, partially. Even if Brain said no, he still would honor his request to keep the secret a secret, but Brain took it literally. He sighed, facepalming. Positives and negatives, he supposed.

"All right. Fine. But just... stay out of the way as best you can, all right?"

"Promise!" Pinky swore, beaming. "Um... do you mind if I hang around here for a little while?"

Brain narrowed his eyes at him. Just because they were now technically partners in crime didn't mean that he wanted Pinky hanging around any longer than he needed to. Then again, it wasn't as if letting him stay a bit longer would hurt anything.

"Just as long as you keep your paws off my lab."

"Yippee!" Pinky exclaimed, jumping once up into the air before reengaging in deep exploration of the room.

Brain sighed, turned back around, and planted his caboose firmly back in the computer chair. Every now and then he'd pause in his typing to stare curiously at Pinky as he looked at everything in the lab, trying his darndest not to lift a finger as Globetrotter had asked. Brain rolled his eyes, finally consenting.

"Fine. You can touch the books. But be careful with them," he warned.

"Oh, thank you, Brain! I won't rip a page!"

"You'd better not...," Brain mumbled under his breath.

Pinky sifted through the books, eventually finding one he liked and sitting down cross-legged on the floor, such as a child might during reading time. Brain shook his head at this. A past conversation came to mind...

"You're also the only other person who's still around at night when I go home late. It... makes me feel a little less lonely."

He stared at Pinky once more, head cocked to the side questioningly, before turning back to his work. The lanky newcomer was, undoubtedly, an annoyance. He was oxymoronic, incredibly daft, and a thorn in Brain's side. Things hadn't been quite the same at the school since he'd arrived. He was a pest that eventually needed to be eradicated. And yet, as Brain sat there, listening to the soft turning of the pages behind him, with the occasional 'ooo' or 'ahhh' complimenting a particularly good part of the book, he had to admit that the presence of someone else in the room, someone kind and nonjudgmental and supportive, made him feel a little less lonely, too.

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

Author's Notes:

- My dad used to own (and probably still does) one of those big briefcases with the locking mechanisms on them. I always enjoyed watching him fiddle with the combination and pop open the case. Of course, now-a-days, briefcases are pretty much a thing of the past, but I still think about that big ol' thing and its locks sometimes.

- The line "... in public, Brain?" is a reference to a very similar quote from one of the original Pinky and the Brain episodes, in which Brain asks Pinky to do something simple and Pinky, misunderstanding, replies with: "Brain? In public?"

- Marvell is an original OC created by Black Geeky Girl, whom you can find on Twitter and Tumblr.

- The line "positively affluent" is a reference to a PatB-themed story of the same name on AO3 that also features Snowball. Please look it up and read it. It's awesome.

- The ending is, admittedly, a bit rushed, and I struggled with the subtext of the laboratory scene. I'm not certain how apparent it is or not, but, if you don't get what I'm going for, all the better I suppose, as you'll be just as surprised as Pinky in a future chapter.

- This is my favorite chapter so far. I had a blast composing this.