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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

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Enemies Closer

MASTERLIST

Happy smutty Spencer Saturday! This fic has been hidden in the depths of my brain for way too long. I knew I wanted to do an enemies to lover fic for a while but didn’t have much more for it until recently. The title comes from the famous saying “keep your friends close and your enemies closer”.

I want to say a big thank you to all of my followers who sent in quips, jabs and bantery remarks. I tried to use them all because they were all so wonderful. Thank you to @dreatine @andiebeaword @sammy-jo1977 @redbullchick and the numerous anons who contributed. Also a big thank you to @multifandommandy for coming up with the idea of the reader interviewing the little girl, it really helped move the story along and add to it. I appreciate all your ideas and help 💕

Okay, enjoy the 10k words of sassy, smutty Spencer Reid. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 10,088

Spencer was walking back to his desk when he heard JJ’s voice.

“Really? When?”

There was a pause on her end of the phone conversation. She looked up and saw Spencer, immediately waving him over.

Spencer’s interest was piqued. He wondered what was going on, especially since there was a huge grin on her face. He approached her desk just as JJ spoke again.

“That sounds great, mom. I can’t wait.”

Spencer smiled. JJ and her mom were extremely close and he always looked forward to her visits—she made the best triple chocolate chip cookies he’d ever tasted. He opened his mouth to tell her to say hi from him, when she practically read his mind.

“By the way Spencer says hi.”

JJ shot him a wink, grinning at the fact that she knew him well enough to know exactly what he was about to say. He chuckled to himself. They definitely were close enough to know what one another was thinking.

“Sounds good. See you then. Bye.”

JJ hung up her phone, turning in her chair to face him fully.

“Is your mom coming to visit?”

“She is,” JJ smiled, “And she’s bringing your favorite triple chocolate chip cookies.”

“Bless that woman,” he chuckled.

“There’s also something else,” JJ trailed off nervously, a flicker of worry in her blue eyes.

“What?”

“Y/N’s visiting too...and she’s kinda stuck with me, or well us for the next week. So if we get a case, she’s coming with us.”

Spencer groaned loudly.

“Why?”

“Mom has a business seminar in downtown D.C. and you know Will took the boys to Disney World this week. I’m not going to make her sit at home alone for a week.”

“Why? It would be for the greater good of humanity. I’ll even be willing to chip in for a hotel room for her,” Spencer said, hoping JJ would actually take him up on the offer, “Particularly one across the country.”

“Spencer,” JJ eyed him warily, “Emily already said it was okay. She knows to stay out of the way while we work.”

“Yet she’s always in my way.”

“Spence, she’s not that bad. Why do you hate her so much?” she asked.

“Last time she visited she “accidentally” spilled an entire pot of coffee on my favorite work shirt!” Spencer protested.

“Just like you “accidentally” locked her in an interrogation room?” JJ raised a brow.

Yeah, that hadn’t been his finest moment. But she had driven him crazy that day.

“She wandered in there on her own. I was just helping the situation along,” he shrugged innocently.

“You’re lucky she didn’t burn the building down,” JJ mumbled.

“Yeah, well, she pushed me to my limit that day. Sorry.”

“What is it with you two? You fight worse than her and I ever did.”

“She’s annoying, rude and drives me crazy. I honestly can’t believe she’s your sister, let alone related to you. JJ, you know I love you, but I just can’t stand her. We’re just two completely different people that probably will never get along.”

“Alright, alright,” JJ held her hands up in defeat, “At least try to be on your best behavior?”

“No promises,” he grumbled.

“Hey, look at it this way. At least you get cookies,” she stood, patting his arm before walking away.

He was positive even cookies wouldn’t make up for this.

•

“Y/N while you’re here, can you please try to be nice to your sister’s coworkers?”

You suppressed a groan.

You were currently in the elevator with your mother at the FBI in Quantico, riding up the numerous floors to the Behavioral Analysis Unit, where your sister JJ worked. In your arms were a stack of containers, filled with sweets your mom had made for the team.

There were her famous triple chocolate chip cookies made with milk, dark and white chocolate chips, some apple cobbler, cupcakes and even a strawberry pie. JJ’s team were suckers for Sandy Jareau’s delicacies.

“Mom, I love the team. They’re like extended family, you know that.”

“You know what I mean.”

Your mom gave you a look that you swore only mothers could perfect. It was partly calling out your bullshit and part disciplinary all at the same time. It was amazing, really, 29 years old and you were still getting the “you better not act out” look from her. What were you, eight?

“I mean that lovely Dr. Reid. You’re always so mean to him.”

“He starts it.”

Okay, maybe you were eight.

“Y/N.”

The warning tone in her voice was all you needed to keep your mouth shut.

“All I’m saying is I don’t want another call from JJ saying you’ve gotten locked in an interrogation room and almost got arrested for assaulting a FBI agent.”

“Okay that was one time!” you said, exasperated, “Granted, it wasn’t my finest hour. But still. It’s not like I’m that bad all the time.”

“Really?” your mom looked at you, all knowingly, “What about that one time at JJ’s housewarming party?”

“I swear I didn’t glue his shoes to the floor!”

In your defense, that had been Derek Morgan, back when he was still working in the FBI, prior to his resignation. Of course though, no one believed that he had done it, apparently including your mother.

“Whether you did it or not, that’s not the point. You would’ve done it given the opportunity.”

You couldn’t deny that.

“Just don’t stress JJ out any more than she is. She said when the two of you are fighting it’s like trying to corral two feisty chihuahuas.”

You sighed, defeated.

“I’ll try to be on my best behavior mom.”

“Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

The elevator dinged, alerting you that you’d arrived at your designated floor and the metal doors slid open to reveal your sister and of course, Spencer.

Spencer Reid, the biggest nemesis of your entire life.

He was absolutely infuriating.

Tall, imposing, three PhDs, IQ of 187, Doctor Spencer Reid. That’s right, he wasn’t just Agent Reid, he was Dr. Reid. It was eye roll inducing.

He was a know-it-all, quite literally. If anyone said something even the slightest bit wrong, he didn’t hesitate to correct them. A person could breathe wrong and he’d probably correct that.

He constantly spewed facts. That was annoying enough in itself. You had no idea how JJ put up with it. But then again she was best friends with the guy. That blew your mind enough in itself.

If he wasn’t so annoying, he might actually be attractive. With a stature of over six feet, he was lean but without being a beanpole. His light brown curls always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and/or never taken a brush to his hair. His eyes were definitely interesting though. You could never tell if they were brown, green or maybe even hazel.

Not that you’d been paying that close of attention. Nor did you care.

He had significantly more facial hair than the last time you’d seen him. Not a bad look for him, you had to give him that.

JJ once told you that a college class he’d taught for two weeks was filled with nothing but young girls auditing his course. She said it had confused Spencer. It confused you too cause you didn’t see how he was that attractive. He was kinda cute, if you liked the whole snobby, genius who doesn’t brush his hair, smartass type.

Oddly enough, you’d known him for half your life, yet couldn’t recall how or when you started hating him. It just seems like it had been that way all along, when in fact, it hadn’t.

“Mom! Y/N!” JJ exclaimed, grinning wide.

You felt a burst of happiness in your chest. You’d missed your sister. Despite the 11 year age difference, you guys were close growing up.

You were still a baby when your older sister Rosalyn had committed suicide, so you didn’t remember much about her, sadly. It was really hard on JJ as she was the one to find her. But as she’d told you much later, you’d helped her grieve. Reliving memories and keeping Rosalyn’s memory alive in sharing stories with you helped her heal after such a traumatic situation. It was often that you’d wished you’d had the chance to know your oldest sister, but with her death came an impenetrable close bond between you and JJ.

JJ immediately wrapped her arms around your mother, hugging her tight. You gave a nod of your head, your arms too full to be able to hug her at the moment.

“I’ll just go put these in the briefing room,” you said.

You turned, aiming to head through the glass doors of the BAU’s entrance, but instead ran right into Spencer.

“Here, I got it,” he took several of the boxes out of your arms so you could see properly again, “If only to save you from injuring anyone else.”

“My knight in shining armor,” you muttered sarcastically.

“Watch where you’re going next time.”

“You watch where you’re going. Besides, I didn’t need your help,” you retorted.

“Obviously, you did,” Spencer mumbled, following you through the doors.

You hadn’t even made it all the way through the entrance when you heard your mom and JJ sigh in unison. You heard JJ’s words loud and clear, as well.

“They’re already bickering less than five minutes in. Must be a new record.”

It kinda was. Usually, the two of you managed to avoid each other until the inevitable crossing of paths occurred. Today, though, you both had started in, right off the bat.

You placed the numerous arrays of desserts on the round table, knowing by tomorrow they’d pretty much all be gone.

“You’re welcome for the help,” Spencer snarked, setting down the few containers he’d carried.

You couldn’t help it, you rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t ask for it. So there’s no reason to thank you.”

“It’s the polite thing to do. Oh, wait. I forgot you don’t know how to be polite. My bad.”

You glared at him, the hatred stirring in your gut.

“I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure to see you again, Y/N, but it hasn’t,” Spencer said.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go greet your mother who actually deserves and appreciates my kindness.”

“Kindness, my ass,” you muttered as he walked away.

He turned, almost to the door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” you smiled in a fake, sweet matter.

He scoffed, turning and walking away.

Only when his back was turned did your fake demeanor drop and you stuck your tongue out at him.

This man would be the death of you yet.

•

“Penelope just got us a case. Luckily, it’s right here in our backyard so you can just sit in while we work. But please try to control your mouth.”

“JJ, I’m almost 30 years old,” you replied.

“Yes, but you still have a sharp tongue.”

“I promise not to make a scene, cause any trouble or be in the way. I know you have to work Jayj.”

After a round of greetings and hugs from the team and promises to stay longer when she returned from her business seminar, your mom had dashed off, leaving you at the BAU.

You looked up to see Emily Prentiss, JJ’s friend and boss motioning for her to join them in the briefing room.

“The team has to be debriefed about this case. Are you going to be okay here?”

You spun back and forth in her desk chair, motioning to the book you’d brought to read.

“I’ll be fine. Go work,” you shooed her.

JJ bounded off and up the stairs to the meeting and you picked up your book, ready to be entranced by the wonderful fantasy world of your book, far away from your reality.

“Why do people read that garbage? It does nothing but fills a person’s head with nonsense. It’s stupid and a waste of time. Although, now that I think of it, that’s probably a perfect fit for you.”

You peered up over the edge of your book.

You’d just gotten to a good part in your book. Your heroine was just getting ready to destroy the enemy and his lair, saving her love interest from the clutches of evil. It was a shame you couldn’t throw Spencer in the cage that your heroine was saving her lover from. Now that would make the book perfect.

“I’m reading. If you don’t mind.”

“Well it offends me. At least read something good. War and Peace is a good recommendation. Good story. I read it at breakfast last weekend,” Spencer said.

You turned up your nose. Leave it to Spencer to brag about his ability to read 20,000 words a minute and offer atrocious book recommendations in the same sentence. That in itself was offensive enough to you.

“This is why you don’t get dates, isn’t it?” you snipped.

He ignored the quip.

“I’m supposed to ask you for help with the case.”

Now this was interesting. You raised an eyebrow.

“What makes you think I want to help you?”

“You do realize the entire world doesn’t revolve around you, right?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed, “There’s kids that are going missing.”

That sobered you quickly. You dropped any anger you had at him, for the moment, realizing how serious the matter was.

“How? What’s happening?”

“Four kids have gone missing. We can’t figure out how or why. They haven’t shown up yet, so we’re hopeful that they’re still alive,” Spencer said, lips narrowed into a thin line.

“What do you need my help for then?”

“Because to understand what happened to them, we need to profile these kids.”

•

“Okay so we know from his parents, six year old Erik Yates was incredibly shy,” JJ said, looking at the whiteboard where the pictures of the four missing children were hung.

“He wouldn’t have talked to his own school teacher, let alone a stranger,” David Rossi said.

“But his best friend, Carlos Hoffman also went missing with him. They were having a sleepover, so he’d been at Erik’s house,” Emily added.

“And Carlos was the more outgoing of the two, wasn’t he?” you asked.

“Yup,” Tara said, flipping through her notes, “According to the parents, wherever Carlos went Erik was always close behind. So if they encountered a stranger, if Carlos was willing to go, Erik would likely follow.”

“I don’t know about that,” you piped in, “I’ve seen friendships like that in my class. Even if the kid is quiet, if they know something is wrong, they either say something to their friend or they just don’t do it period. I find it hard to believe that Erik would go along with someone he wasn’t comfortable with.”

“Says the one that’s not a profiler,” Spencer mumbled from where he was standing, examining the evidence board.

JJ shot him a look, before returning to the conversation. You pretended not to hear that one and for once, bit your tongue. You wouldn’t accomplish anything by arguing with Spencer at the moment.

“So let’s go back to the top,” Matt said, “Mrs. Yates went to the door and there was someone there either selling something or had an excuse made up for the unsub to guilt trip money out of her. She leaves to get her purse. The kids are in the living room playing. Then suddenly, by the time she gets back, all three are gone.”

“That’s how her story goes,” Luke said, looking through interview notes.

“What about the other children?” you asked, “How were they taken?”

“One was kidnapped at the park, the other at the grocery store,” Spencer answered.

“What if it’s someone familiar with their routines?” you asked.

You weren’t anywhere close to being a profiler, but you knew enough from JJ to sort of get by in this conversation.

“A lot of my kids and their families have strict routines. Usually because it benefits the child and/or they have other children that they keep on a schedule too. Wouldn’t that mean that it’s someone that they know?”

“It could,” Emily said, “But unfortunately that doesn’t narrow down much because the unsub could also just be stalking these families before the kidnapping. The unsub could potentially be a complete stranger to them.”

“Have you asked the parents of the children if they could think of anyone who could do this? Is there anyone that might overlap with these families?” you inquired.

JJ had opened her mouth to answer you, but of course, Spencer had to add his two cents.

“Are you an idiot? Of course, we did,” Spencer snapped, “That’s always the first thing we do.”

You bristled. Even when working together, he couldn’t be civil. He had the nerve to try and insult you and make you feel stupid, even though all you were trying to do was help.

“I’m not an idiot, Spencer,” you grit out.

“Oh really? You sure do act like one sometimes,” he retorted, writing something on the board.

Your defenses snapped back into place and you were ready to shoot back a remark when JJ interrupted you.

“Hey, hey, you guys. Quit it before I have to send you both into separate corners for timeout. We’re all on the same team here, trying to accomplish the same thing. Let’s just focus.”

“Matt, Dave, JJ, I want you to go and reinterview the parents. Y/N has a point. We need to make absolutely sure there’s no one in these families lives that connect with one another,” Emily ordered.

“Luke, Tara; both of you go to the schools. See if there’s been any strangers lurking around. We can’t rule out a sexual predator just yet, but it would help vastly if we could.”

“Penelope, you and I are going to work on a deep dive of these families.”

Garcia’s face scrunched at Emily’s order; she hated diving into people’s personal lives, but unfortunately it sometimes came with the job.

“We’re going to make sure that these parents aren’t holding back any secrets that could possibly help us.”

Emily turned towards you and Spencer next.

“Spence, I want you to start on a geo profile, see if we can figure out the vicinity of the unsub’s hunting grounds. Maybe we might even be able to find where he’s holding them.”

“On it.”

Spencer was already grabbing a map, spreading it across the round table.

“Y/N, I want you to help him.”

Spencer’s head snapped up.

“Hell no. Emily please-”

She held up her hand.

“I don’t want to hear it. That’s an order. If you disobey, I will put you behind a desk for a month.”

He relented, but you could tell he wasn’t happy about it. Not like you were pleased at all by it either.

“Try not to burn the room down while you’re working,” she instructed, walking out to meet Garcia in her lair.

Once she left, Spencer spun towards you.

“Let’s get one thing clear. You’re not to bother me while I work. You stay out of my way. I don’t need your help, nor do I want it. I can do my work just fine without you. I’ve been doing it for 15 years,” he snapped.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Spencer. Even I can tell when your IQ gets slashed to 60.”

“That’s the best you got, Y/N? I didn’t realize they let bimbos into the FBI. Oh wait...that’s right. I’m the one that’s the actual agent here. What is it you do again?”

“I’m a kindergarten teacher. You know that, you dumbass or else I wouldn’t be here helping you.”

“Oh, guess there’s no sleeping to the top in that field. Although, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Your fists clenched. Spencer made you mad like no other could. Not even JJ could ever make you this mad.

“Just sit down and shut up while the adults work, okay?” he sneered at you.

“I’m not a child!”

You crossed your arms defensively. You weren’t about to let him get in all the insults. Ignoring him never worked, he was too obnoxious. So you just played it like he did, by slinging insults like dodgeballs at him.

“Well if you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like a child!” he threw back.

His eyes were blazing, his cheeks gone pink from his anger.

“Funny because you act more immature than my kindergartners.”

“WILL YOU TWO CAN IT AND GET TO WORK?!”

You both jumped at the sound of Garcia yelling from the bullpen. She made the motion that she’d be keeping her eyes on you two. You threw one more scowl Spencer’s way before flopping down on the sofa on the other side of the room.

This week was going to last an eternity.

•

Two days passed with no luck on finding an unsub, but they’d managed to put a profile together based on what little they did know.

The entire team was worried and on edge. Of course, that made the situation between you and Spencer even more volatile.

“Are you sure you’re an actual qualified agent? All you do is stand in front of a room full of police or your team and say smart things and gesture with your hands,” you mimicked Spencer, doing exactly what he was just doing earlier while they gave the profile.

“I do not look like that! You look like a baby dinosaur who doesn’t know how to walk,” he jeered.

“Yes, you do. All I’m saying is these civil service exams must be really easy to pass nowadays, huh?” you smirked.

“You know I’d ask if you could really be any more infuriating, but I’m afraid you’d take that as a challenge,” Spencer huffed, “Besides I’m supposed to be “nice” to you, since you’ve been so helpful.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you grinned mischievously, “I’ve been what?”

“I’m just quoting what Emily said. In my opinion you’ve been more like a pain in my ass,” he mumbled, looking through one of the case files.

“Oh sure because without me, would you’ve figured out that the unsub is a woman?”

“Probably. Don’t pat yourself on the back, sweetheart. You’re no match for us real profilers, Y/N.”

“I may not be, but you’ve met your match with me, pretty boy,” the nickname falling from your lips with deep sarcasm, “You can’t help but fight with me. For some reason I get under your skin and frankly, I enjoy it. It’s nice to know you can actually squirm, Spencer Reid.”

His lips pursed and he was about to speak when the phone rang. He answered it, putting it on speaker. Garcia’s excited voice came through it.

“Reid, gather the team. You won’t believe what I’ve found.”

•

“So it turns out, one of our families did have a secret. Although, it was something we weren’t even looking for,” Penelope said.

“What’s that Garcia?” Tara asked.

“The family of the first missing child: Daisy Rowe, had a nanny once. Her name is Kali Dye.”

Garcia hit the remote button to pull up the woman’s picture on the big screen at the front of the room.

“What does she have to do with our case?” Luke asked.

She stared at him, exasperated.

“If I could finish what I was saying, you’d know,” Penelope griped.

“Okay, okay,” Luke chuckled, “Carry on.”

You lived for Luke and Penelope’s playful banter. It was like the complete opposite of you and Spencer. They liked each other at the end of the day—not to mention everyone knew deep down they were definitely attracted to one another. Their banter was flirty. Yours and Spencer’s was anything but.

“As I was saying,” Penelope continued, “Kali was the nanny to the Rowe family back in 2016 when Daisy was only two years old. There was an incident where apparently she turned her back on little Daisy playing in the backyard. Daisy got too near the pool and almost drowned. She was in the hospital for a few days afterwards. The parents were obviously furious. I’m guessing Mrs. Rowe told all her friends about it because according to my research, Kali’s nannying career was basically ruined.”

“So you think this is an act of revenge? Did she nanny for any of the other kids she kidnapped?” Emily asked.

“No, that’s where it gets weird. She seems to have no connection to these other children,” Garcia said.

“Well we know who our unsub most likely is,” JJ said, “But how are we going to find out where she and the kids are?”

“I checked for that. There’s no significant places that she would take them, her old family house isn’t even in the state and besides it’s been sold years ago,” Penelope answered.

Emily’s phone rang as the team continued to throw around ideas of where to find Kali.

“Prentiss.”

You watched Emily’s face quickly change expressions, from neutral to shock, to worry, back to businesslike.

“Okay, bring her to Quantico. We’ll need to interview her.”

Emily hung up, turning to the team.

“The second child kidnapped, Eden Jenson just showed up at a police station in D.C. She managed to get away and ran for help. We need to interview her, but she hasn’t spoken yet. The chief of the police station is having one of his detectives drive here so we can interview her,” Emily filled the rest of the team in.

“I’ll talk to her. I’m pretty good at getting kids to talk,” Spencer said.

“Actually, I think we should let Y/N do it,” JJ said, looking at Emily.

“What?! She has no experience interviewing a witness, much less a victim!” Spencer exclaimed.

“I worked in art therapy when I was getting my degree as a teacher. I still use some in my class, plus I’m a teacher,” you said defiantly, “I know how to talk to kids.”

“I agree with JJ,” Emily said, “But Spencer, sit in with her just in case you need to intervene.”

You were sure he was going to do plenty of that.

•

An hour later, you and Spencer were sitting in front of a little, terrified Eden. Her—what you assumed were once neat—blonde pigtails were in all types of disarray. Pieces stood up everywhere while other strands came loose, hanging around her face. She was clutching her bunny stuffie, which you figured had been with her when she was kidnapped.

She had refused to talk to anyone, shrinking away frightfully at any imposing adults. You had to restrain yourself from literally pushing Spencer out the door when she shrunk even more into herself when she saw Spencer’s tall frame.

She’d been previously asked if she was hungry or thirsty in which she barely nodded. Now, she sat a bit less rigidly as she ate her Goldfish crackers and sipped on her juice box.

“Eden, my name is Y/N and this is my…friend, Spencer.”

You had to admit, you had a rough time getting that one out.

“We just want to talk to you, okay?” you said.

The little girl just stared back at you, wide eyed.

“Do you like to color?” you asked.

Still no response.

You pulled out some paper and a pack of crayons from a bin next to the desk. You pushed them across towards her.

“Could you draw something for us?”

It took a moment of Eden staring at the items before she opened the box and picked up a crayon.

“Do you mind if we ask you some questions while you color?”

You didn’t expect an answer, so you weren’t surprised when none came.

“Are you six years old? Six is a fun age. Are you in kindergarten or first grade?”

Eden looked up at you, from underneath her lashes, just briefly, before returning to drawing.

“I’m a kindergarten teacher myself. I’m used to seeing kids your age all the time. It’s spring break though and I miss my kids terribly. Do you miss going to school?”

Spencer shifted in his seat. You knew time was a delicate thing right now, but you were trying to get her to trust you.

“Eden?”

She looked up again. If she was surprised to hear Spencer speak for the first time, she didn’t show it.

“Could you describe the place you were at?”

Fear flashed in her eyes and she dropped her crayon, hugging tightly to her bunny.

You glared at Spencer.

“Just keep drawing, Eden. Okay? We’ll be right back,” you said, standing up, your hand a death grip on his arm.

Once the two of you had stepped out of the room and the door was closed behind you, you whirled on him.

“How can you be so stupid? I thought you were supposed to be a genius!”

“Y/N, you know we’re running on limited time to find those kids. We don’t know if Kali will hurt them or not!”

“I realize that. I’m trying to make her comfortable enough to talk about it.”

“Avoiding it doesn’t seem to be helping either,” he grimaced, hands on his hips.

“You saw what happened when you brought it up! She was terrified!”

“When dealing with a traumatized child you should tell them information about the situation they were in. It’s best they learn it from a trusted adult. Besides, it’s most likely they want to talk about it, but just don’t know how to bring it up.”

“And how would you know all of this, doctor?”

“Because contrary to your beliefs about me, I actually know how to do my job and how to do it well. I’ve dealt with things like this many times before. 60% of adults report being traumatized in childhood. 26% of children in the United States alone will witness or experience a traumatic event before the age of four.”

You blinked, unable to process so much information at once.

“Are you even human?”

“Are you?” Spencer shot back, eyes narrowed.

“You know, with all things considered, I’d thought you’d gotten the idea that I really hate you.” you sneered.

“Really? And here I thought that was your version of flirting,” he retaliated, sarcastically.

“Moron,” you muttered under your breath.

“Now, if you’re through calling me names, I’ve got work to do,” he said, reaching behind you for the doorknob.

“Wait,” you grabbed his arm, “Just let me try again first? Please? If I get stuck or need you, I’ll let you know.”

It was some of the most civil words you’d said to him in a long time. But you didn’t want to give up on this little girl. You wanted to help her and prove to Spencer and yourself if you were being honest, that you could do it.

He must’ve noticed your serious tone and pleading eyes because he relented. He nodded and you turned to go back in.

Eden was waiting for you when you returned, back to clutching her bunny.

“Don’t you want to finish your picture?” you asked, sitting down in front of her.

She pushed it across to you.

“Oh are you done?”

She nodded.

You picked up the picture, noticing four stick figures. Two seemed to be girls, two seemed to be boys. They looked like they could represent all four missing kids.

“Are these you and your friends?” you asked gently.

She didn’t say anything for a beat, then came a soft, timid voice.

“They aren’t my friends...at least not until a few days ago.”

“My friends here, they found out that you didn’t know these other three children. Is that right?”

Eden nodded again.

“Do you know the woman who took you?”

“No,” she said, equally as quiet as before.

“You’re doing a great job, Eden,” you smiled at her, hoping to encourage her, “Just a few more questions, okay?”

Another nod.

“Can you describe where you were?”

“I...I don’t know,” her voice trembled, as if she were going to cry.

You heard the door open up behind you and you turned to see Spencer. He gave you a terse shake of his head, as if telling you now was not the time to snap at him.

“Eden?” Spencer came around to her side and crouched by her, “You remember me, right? I’m Spencer.”

She nodded hesitantly.

“I want to try to help you help Miss Y/N here. To tell her what the place looked like that you were at.”

“But I don’t remember,” Eden said, frowning.

“I think you do. You know how when you’re afraid, you hide?” Spencer asked gently.

Eden nodded her answer.

“Well, that’s kinda what your brain is doing. It’s scared, so you think you can’t remember. What I want to do is have you to close your eyes and think back to before you were taken.”

“No, I’m scared,” Eden whimpered, hugging the stuffie.

“It’ll be okay. I’m right here,” he offered her his hand, which she took reluctantly, “I’ll be right here the entire time. If things get too scary, just squeeze my hand and we can stop. Alright?”

“Alright.”

She closed her eyes, listening to Spencer’s voice.

You were amazed at how soft and gentle he was with her. It was like seeing all of his razor sharp edges he displayed around you, smoothed out. You couldn’t remember if you’d ever heard him like this.

“Just focus on the sound of my voice,” Spencer whispered, “You were playing at the park. What were you doing?”

“Playing on the swing with my bunny,” she said.

“Okay, that’s good Eden, you’re doing wonderful. What do you hear?”

“Lots of kids playing. They’re very loud.”

“What happens next?”

“There’s a lady behind me. She asks if I would like to play in the sandbox with her. I told her yes but I didn’t want to get bunny dirty.”

Eden is trembling now and you eye Spencer warily. He holds his free hand up and you don’t say anything, just yet.

“Very good Eden. Did you go play in the sandbox?”

“No. She took my hand and led me away from the swings. I asked her where she’s going because the sandbox was the other way.”

“Do you want to stop, Eden?” Spencer asked.

“N-No. I a big girl like mommy always says.”

“Okay. What happened then, sweetheart?”

“She grabbed me and put her hand over my mouth. I tried screaming for my mommy, but I couldn’t. She took me to a car.”

“Can you remember what the car looked like?”

“Um, blue. It was blue. It had a lot of doors. It was long too.”

Spencer looked like he realized what she was describing.

“Did the middle door slide open and closed?”

She nodded, her eyes still closed.

“It was big inside with lots of seats. That’s all I saw before she covered my eyes.”

It sounded like an SUV or family van.

“When you were in the car, did you ride for a really long time? Or a short time?”

“A short time.”

You jotted the note down.

“One last question honey. Do you remember anything about the room you were in? What did it look like?”

“Like...like my bedroom. Only much dirtier. And old looking. There’s...there’s flowers on the wall. There’s a lot of toys, but I don’t want to play. I want to go home. Me and my friends are so scared. She’s coming back, she's coming back!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay! I’m right here.”

Eden’s eyes snapped open and he enveloped her in his arms, holding her tightly as she trembled.

She didn’t let go of him until her parents arrived.

•

After kicking the information over to Garcia and her being the goddess she is at finding even the most hidden information, she found the house.

The team had found her car, registered to Kali, but with a false last name. From there, Garcia looked for any run down buildings or homes for rent within 10 to 15 minutes of that park. The team agreed that Kali wouldn’t have bought a house for the simple reason of too much work. She didn’t seem to be that dedicated to a well thought out plan. That was when Garcia discovered an old house rented under the name of Kali Rowe, the same last name of the family she had been a nanny for.

You stayed behind while the team went out to rescue the children and hopefully bring Kali Dye into custody.

They did.

All four kids were now safely reunited with their parents and Kali had been arrested and hopefully was going to get the help she needed.

Since you hadn’t been there, JJ had filled you in afterwards when everybody had gotten back. You were sitting next to one another in the briefing room, talking, while everything settled down.

Kali Dye had been so distraught over the loss and destruction of her nannying career. Apparently at one point, she had been a wonderful nanny. What had happened with Daisy, truly was an accident. Whether she had had a mental breakdown or suffered from an unknown or untreated mental illness beforehand, they didn’t know. But she soon became desperate to prove she was a good nanny.

She kidnapped Daisy first, to prove her point. Then three other children that she’d followed, learning their schedules.

She had taken good care of them, at least in her mind. In reality, she hadn’t hurt them or touched them one bit. She fed them, gave them all attention and all the toys they wanted, to play with.

It was a sad situation, really. But you were glad that the families had a happy ending and their children were back safely in their homes tonight.

“You did good little sis,” JJ smiled, “Keep it up and you may just have to think about switching careers.”

“No thanks,” you chuckled, “I’m happy teaching kids, not seeing them in life threatening situations. I don’t have the heart for that.”

“Spence said you did really well getting Eden to open up,” she said.

“I’m surprised he actually knows how to compliment a person, let alone me,” you scoffed.

“Y/N. Come on. What’s your deal with him? This has been going on for years now.”

“I don’t know. I just can’t stand him.”

“That’s a cop out and you know it,” JJ said, “He’s a good guy. Besides, you used to have a crush on him when you were younger.”

“Ew, did I?”

You wrinkled your nose, trying to remember. JJ had joined the BAU when you were only 14. A lot had happened in high school, let alone the 15 years since she’d first joined. You didn’t visit her very often because of school and all of your other extracurricular activities, so you hadn’t met the team until about a year after she started.

“You don’t mean the summer after my freshman year, do you?” you asked, “Cause back then he was a cute little dweeb and it lasted like two seconds anyway. I had a case of raging hormones to the point I had a crush on just about anything male with two legs.”

You rolled your eyes, disgusted at the fact she’d even think that you’d have a crush on Spencer. Although deep down, deep, deep, deep down, a little part of you knew that she’d hit the nail on the head.

“Why do you hate him though? He’s my best friend. I love him and I want you two to get along.”

You snorted.

“Yeah, I know you love him. Remember, you told me that you told him that you’ve always loved him? That he was your first love?”

You bit your lip, trying hard to keep the jealous edge out of your tone. This is what you’d tried hard to avoid all these years. You hated that you felt like this but you’d been covering up your true feelings for him and the situation, with anger all these years. If you kept yourself at a distance, you were less likely to get hurt.

How wrong you were.

“Is that what this is about? Because I told Spence I loved him?”

“No.”

Maybe.

“Y/N.”

She gave you the same look that your mother had given you in the elevator just days before.

“Jeez, you’ve got mom’s “look” down pat,” you mumbled.

“Please tell me the truth. Is my confession why you hate him?”

Her eyes pleaded with you and you couldn’t help but cave. She was your sister and your best friend and you knew she cared.

“No. I don’t know, maybe partially. But I disliked him way before that anyway. He’s just a know-it-all smartass, that annoys the shit out of me and is just like every other guy to fall head over heels in love with Jennifer Jareau.”

You grimaced, “For a guy that has an IQ of 187, he sure doesn’t know how to be different from other guys.”

“Okay hold up,” JJ held up her hands, “First of all, he is not head over heels in love with me.”

“JJ, please. You’re not an idiot.”

“I’m serious. He may have been once, but he’s not anymore. We’re best friends and that’s it. Besides, we worked out that mess over a year ago. He’s even dated since then.”

“The kid actually dates? I’m shocked,” you said, putting a hand on your chest in mock surprise.

JJ ignored your antics, continuing on.

“Second. He’s actually a really great guy, Y/N. He’s a real sweetheart, really. It’s just a side of him that you don’t see.”

“Yeah like the dark side of the moon,” you muttered.

“Just give him a chance and try to be nice? You know what mom always said. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Besides, if you want to go for him, that’s fine.”

You laughed outright at that. As if that would happen.

“On that note, I think I’m gonna head back to your place,” you said standing.

“I have to stay a little later to finish up some work. Can you get home okay on your own?”

You assured her you could and you grabbed your purse.

“Y/N?” she called, as you were about to the glass doors.

“Yeah?”

“Just think about what I said, okay?”

•

If you thought you were gonna get a reprieve after that uncomfortable conversation, you were sorely mistaken.

The moment you stepped out of the BAU, you saw Spencer standing, waiting for the elevator, his hands clutching the strap of his tan satchel as he waited.

“Ah, there she is. The woman who saved the day,” he quipped sarcastically.

“Fuck off Reid. I’m not in the mood.”

“You know, I’m actually shocked that you’re good at something besides bitching.”

You ignored him, your teeth clenching.

“I’m surprised you held your tongue as long as you did earlier. Bet that’s a record for you.”

The elevator doors opened and you got on without a word, Spencer following you.

“What? No comebacks? Amazing. Has Spencer Reid actually won for once?”

You whirled on him, dropping your purse to the elevator floor in the process.

“No because you’re full of shit. You’re the most annoying, stubborn ass, infuriating, egocentric, smart aleck in a fancy suit I’ve ever met!”

His eyes narrowed and his mouth hardened. He pulled his satchel over his head, dropping it too, to the floor. He pushed the emergency button of the elevator with such anger, it was amazing that he didn’t break it. The elevator suddenly came to an abrupt halt.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” you screeched.

Your body was thrumming with anger. You could and likely would pummel him at any second.

“You’re not leaving this elevator until you tell me what the fuck your problem is,” Spencer glared.

“My problem?” you huffed.

“Yes because I have to deal with you jumping down my throat every single time I see you. You’re the most stuck up, spoiled, self centered, bitchy little brat I’ve had to deal with!”

“Ha! You sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

“You know what I think your problem is?” he challenged.

“Go ahead, try me. I’d love to hear.”

“I think, you don’t know how to deal with how you’re really feeling. So you hide it under anger. You lash out every time your feelings threaten to surface. It’s become a defense mechanism. It’s all you know. You fight with me because it’s the only way to protect yourself; you throw words as your daggers. Simply because you can’t get me out of your mind. I push you to limits you don’t want to think about. You may swear and declare that you hate me but in reality, you’d be thrilled if I took you right up against this elevator wall.”

His voice grew deeper with every word that tumbled out of his mouth.

“Are you profiling me? Cause that’s one hell of a reach.”

“Is it though? You wanna know how I figure that? You told me the other day that I met my match. That I can’t help but fight with you because you get under my skin. Well you were right. I do enjoy it and I think you do too. Because it turns you on. It does the same thing to me. You get under my skin yet at the same time all I can think about is how I want to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

“You think I’m gonna fall for that shit from just another guy who’s crazy about JJ?” you sneered.

For the first time, he actually looked just the tiniest bit surprised.

“You think I have feelings for JJ? If I had feelings for her, do you honestly think I’d spend all my time and attention on you?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“JJ isn’t the one that occupies my brain, no matter what I try to do, Y/N,” he said through gritted teeth.

His face was mere inches away from yours now. Close enough to see an array of scattered freckles on his face. A few under one eye, a tiny one on the side of his nose, one on his forehead.

His stubble had gotten heavier in the last few days, becoming more scruff than stubble. His lips were naturally plump, an asset that would be the envy of any woman. They were also a natural shade of dark pink, maybe even leaning towards red.

Anger heated his eyes. Or was it desire? You wondered if you looked the same way. Right now, they looked more green in the brighter light in the elevator, but you could still see rings of brown around the edges of his eyes. They were also filled with mischief as if he were up for a challenge.

“You really think you’re going to distract me by putting your tongue in my mouth and getting my panties wet?” you hissed.

“Is that what you want?”

A smirk formed on his lips. He was definitely challenging you.

Your legs were trembling now. Although if you were to admit it, you weren’t entirely sure if it was from anger or arousal.

You pressed your lips together, refusing to say anything, almost afraid what would come out of your mouth. He had you cornered up against the wall now.

“Maybe I should just find out for myself,” he said, propping his hands on either side of the wall by your head, “Make you moan in my mouth while I finger you.”

The anger that was coursing your veins earlier had definitely now turned into desire. Your stomach churned with it. You could feel his body mere inches from yours and the heat from it was making your entire body temperature feel that much higher.

“It’s not like I haven’t imagined making you moan my name,” he whispered, his voice gravelly, his tongue moving out over his lips in a quick swipe.

Your breathing had become shallow and you were throbbing with need. Before you could think of what you were doing, you were already unbuttoning your jeans.

“For once in your life I wish you’d shut up and just do it,” you grunted.

He grabbed your face roughly with both hands, his lips colliding with yours. They were hot and rough against yours, this kiss so hungry and animalistic that it was unreal.

His body was pressed against yours as he pressed you against the cool, metal wall. You could feel his arousal pressed against your thigh and you unwittingly moaned into his mouth. You had a difficult time wrapping your head around the fact that you’d gotten him so hard.

Then again, you were having a hard time wrapping your mind around anything that didn’t involve him.

His tongue moved with yours, ironically increasing your desire, making you wetter. Just like you’d voiced earlier. Damn, the guy sure knew what he was doing.

He pulled your jeans roughly down your legs until they were enough out of the way that he was satisfied. His lips attacked your jaw, then neck, being anything but gentle, but it was working you up more than anything.

Your hands gripped his arms, your teeth bearing down into your bottom lip, resisting the urge to give in to what he wanted: hearing you moan.

He pulled away from you making you suddenly desperate for his lips on your skin again. He pried your hands away from him and held them against the wall, his hips pressing into yours.

His suit pants were a lot thinner than your jeans, so you could feel his erection pressing into you, dangerously close to your throbbing core where all of a sudden, you wanted him the most.

Spencer’s fingers ghosted over the fabric of your underwear, causing you to inhale sharply. It felt good and you wanted more.

You reached for his hand, trying to push it against your core, but he pulled it away, shaking his head.

“No. This is all you’re getting until you admit it.”

His finger trailed up the center of your panties, having just enough pressure to slightly feel his touch. You groaned at his teasing. If your past years of banter had been foreplay then you were more than ready for him to have you.

“Admit what?”

“That you want this,” Spencer stated simply.

His fingertip swirled lightly over the fabric, just above your clit. Light enough that you didn’t get any real friction from the touch and you bucked your hips, desperate to feel it.

“I think it’s fucking obvious,” you said through clenched teeth.

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.”

His smirk was wolfish. You knew he wasn’t going to give in unless you did what he said.

“I want this,” you groaned.

“What’s that?” he tipped his head to the side, “Can’t hear you.”

“I want this,” you said, a notch louder, gripping his wrist.

“This?”

His fingers dipped into your underwear and his thumb pressed hard against your clit.

“Ah, fuck yes,” you moaned.

He grinned, his finger dipping into your wet warmth.

“Seems like my tongue in your mouth did indeed make you wet,” he chuckled lowly, pulling your underwear off with his other hand.

His fingers teased you as you writhed and moaned, clawing at the elevator wall behind you. He had this amazing way of rubbing his knuckles against your walls as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

“Holy shit, fuck Spencer,” you whined.

You were so turned on, you hardly had any recognition of what was tumbling out of your mouth. It sure seemed to please Spencer, though.

He kept you on your toes though, slowing his fingers just when you thought you were reaching the brink of your orgasm, twisting them so gradually, it was almost painfully pleasant. You swore your eyes almost rolled back in your head when his fingers curled inward in his direction, catching that sweet spot at just the right angle.

He was kissing you as you moaned appreciatively in his mouth. His hands were quite literally magical.

His fingers finally sped up, his thumb focusing all its attention on your clit. You could feel your release quickly approaching and you were ready to succumb to it. You wanted Spencer Reid to make you cum so hard you’d be begging for more.

He did just that.

Your high hit you as you released on his fingers. Your eyes screwed shut, your head banging against the wall. You actually think you stopped breathing for a short second before air rushed back into your lungs and you released a long moan.

“Oh my god, Spencer,” you groaned, reaching for the waistband of his pants.

He’d given you one hell of an orgasm and here you were, ready to beg for more. Especially if they came while he was buried to the hilt inside you.

“That was hot as hell,” he muttered, kissing you again, “It’s sexy seeing you spend all your energy on an orgasm instead of yelling at me. It’s healthier for your body, too.”

He smirked, his teeth pulling on your lower lip gently before pulling away. His hands were working with yours to push his pants down and his boxers too.

“Are you willing to admit you want me to fuck you against this wall now?” he growled.

“Yes, yes. Fuck yes, please.”

Man, if he wanted you to be his bitch ages ago, he probably should’ve just fucked you. One orgasm at his hands and you had turned into a writhing, begging and moaning heap.

But still, you couldn’t help but wonder if he could make you feel so good with his hands, that it would most likely be ten times as amazing with his dick.

He lifted you up, holding you against the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed into you. You felt yourself stretching in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time and you couldn’t hold it back; a long, low moan of gratification left your lips.You hated to admit it, but he felt fucking fantastic inside of you.

By his own confirming groan, you could tell he felt the same way as you. At the back of your mind you couldn’t help but wonder why this hadn’t happened years ago.

His hips rocked against yours, slowly at first as his mouth found yours. He was as ravenous for you as you were for him.

Your fingers dug into his back as his thrusts became faster and harder. He was quite literally fucking you into this metal wall and you were loving every second of it.

Your emitted moans were coming every few seconds with every slap of your skin against his. His own grunts and groans came from deep in his throat, making you even hotter.

“S-Spencer,” you stuttered, pulling his face back to yours.

You have him a brief kiss before smirking up at him.

“I’m the spoiled little brat that’s got you moaning like a little bitch,” you panted.

Your words made him groan as he gripped your sides. He must have excellent control because he managed to get a hold of himself, slowing his hips to where he was tantalizingly pulling out of you and pushing back in.

“Still hate me, Y/N?”

“Right now, yes,” you groaned, trying to pull him deeper within you, wanting the previous speed and depth back.

“Now?”

“Ye- ahhh,” a breathy moan came from you as he resumed his harsher and faster thrusts.

“I don’t hate you,” you groaned, lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

Maybe voiced thoughts during sex were the truth because you actually didn’t hate him. Especially right now.

“Fuck, Y/N, yes baby,” he groaned.

He was close to his peak, you could tell. His fingers were on your clit, circling furiously. He was going to make sure you got your orgasm, before he got his. Who knew he was actually so decent?

Your whimpers, moans and groans were rising in pitch. You halfway hoped no one could hear, but at the same time didn’t care. Let the whole building hear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Spencer, I’m coming, I’m-”

With that, the coil of pleasure that had been building up snapped like a broken rubber band, shooting through your entire body.

You may have screeched too, you’re not entirely sure. You were completely lost to the bliss of your orgasm and even more so when he came apart not long after you. If you had thought he was attractive before, he was a hundred times more sexy when he was orgasming above you, all caused by you.

Your movements slowed, your chests both heaving. He held onto you carefully, as if he was afraid to set you down just yet. Probably a good idea considering you felt like you’d lost all function in your legs.

You laughed incredulously, unable to believe what had just happened. That had simultaneously been the craziest yet hottest thing you’d ever done.

Spencer’s smirk was replaced with a more shy, happy smile. It was a better look than the scowl he’d worn for you for so long.

It was like the moment that first orgasm hit you, all the anger, all the hatred, all the negative feelings you’d felt towards him drained from your body. You didn’t have the willpower or the desire to hate him anymore. Not that you ever really had.

“I meant what I said,” you said quietly.

“What’s that? You said a lot of things,” he chuckled.

“That I don’t hate you.”

He took a few moments in silence, parting from you and gently setting your feet on the floor again. He took his time getting decent again, as well. You worried at your bottom lip as you did the same, nervous that you’d said the wrong thing.

“So I was right? About the defensive mechanism and everything?”

“Yeah,” you nodded somberly, “I horribly misjudged you; thinking you were stuck up, full of yourself, better than anyone else, the kind of guy that was like all the others and in love with my sister.”

“If anything, I would think what just happened would prove more than anything that my sights are set on you.”

He had a point.

“Why did you hate me though?”

“I was thrown off by your reaction to me. I thought you were a self entitled, spoiled brat and that you thought you were better than me. Seems like we both vastly misjudged one another.”

“It’s kinda a good thing though,” you said.

Spencer looked at you, baffled.

“It is?”

“Well yeah, cause if none of that happened then that wouldn’t have happened either,” you gestured to the place where moments before the two of you had been a tangle of limbs.

“Good point,” he chuckled.

“Uh, Spencer?”

“Hmm?” he looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“You might want to get the elevator moving again.”

“Oh! Right.”

He laughed, hitting the emergency button to restart the elevator.

“I apologize for giving you so much grief though. I’d do anything to make it up to you,” you said.

“How about letting me take you out then? You’re still here for a few more days, aren’t you?” he asked.

You smiled.

“I think I can make all the time in my schedule for you, Spencer.”

His answering smile was enough to make you smile in return.

Oddly enough, the elevator had gone down and back up without stopping, returning to the floor the BAU was on.

“That’s weird,” Spencer mumbled.

The doors parted to JJ waiting to get on.

“Hey, what are you guys still doing here? I thought you left an hour ago.”

Huh, so it’d been an hour.

She got on the elevator, standing between the two of you.

“Elevator issues,” Spencer answered, before you could think of what to say.

“So you’ve been stuck in the elevator together this entire time?” JJ asked.

“Yup,” you answered.

“I guess it’s a miracle you two didn’t tear each other apart then,” she muttered, hitting the button for the ground floor.

Yeah, there might’ve been some tearing involved.

Behind her back, you and Spencer shared a secret smile.

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eloquent--asshole · 3 years

Text

My Date With the President’s Son

a/n: I’ve been getting a lot of anons recently letting me know they couldn’t find this piece. Well... I found out it was deleted. So, here is a repost of My Date With the President’s Son! I was so sad when I found out it was gone :( BUT IT’S BACK!!! :) And much love to all of you that let me know it was missing! Come talk to me about this, future ideas, or anything! --PJ

hey, hi, hello! this is my submission for the Pick Your Poison fic challenge! I went with a good ole fake dating piece. Also, sidenote: this is the first pic i’ve actually decided to post! Please feel free to message me with any comments, questions, or concern. Also, an absolutely MASSIVE shoutout to @for-fucks-sake-h, @oh-honey-styles, and @andwhenshesays for creating this and letting me be a part of it! I’m so happy I decided to do this even though I was an absolute mess about it! Buckle up kids, it’s about to get messy!

read the other challenge pieces here!!!!! and support them!

"Miss. Y/L/N, I don't think you understand the immense pressure we're under with this mission." My boss, Mr. Thompson, was staring at me from across the conference table. The room was bright. Almost too bright from the fluorescent lights beaming on us.

I looked at my hands resting on my thighs under the table before returning to his gaze. "Well, Mr. Thompson, I don’t think you understand that this goes against not only our ethical codes but my moral beliefs as well.”

Mr. Thompson spoke as he got up and came around the table, taking a seat on the glass two feet to my left. "Miss. Y/L/N, you are obligated to serve your country. However the circumstances may seem. If you do not take this mission, I will be suggesting your employment for termination."

I ran a hand down my cheek. "What –“ I ran the options through my head. Get fired or help the President’s son. Easy decision, really. “How could this even work? Does he know?"

"No, he doesn’t know. Don't worry about the details of that. We will take care of it. Nevertheless, on your part, it must seem as authentic as possible." I looked at him in disbelief.

How could this be happening? What did I do to deserve the position to role play as the President’s slutty son’s romantic interest? I let out a heavy sigh before nodding at Mr. Thompson. He let a small smile break through his tough demeanor.

“Very well, we’ve set up for you two to ‘meet’ tomorrow.” Mr. Thompson got up to open the door at the end of the room. “Oh,” he paused turning to look at me one last time, “And don’t worry, if anything goes off course, you’ll be wearing an earpiece and a mic. So we’ll know and figure it out as we go along. Remember Y/N. We’re all in this together.”

But were we?

I sat in position, waiting for the signal. I was outside a quaint coffee shop where my target was currently buying a coffee.

As I got my cue from the team, I got up and started walking in the direction of the van that was watching our every move. The door to the coffee shop flew open and I felt a heavy weight rush into me "Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even see you there," came rushing out of the stranger’s mouth. I looked down at the spilled coffee on the ground between us.

"No, no. It's okay, I should have been paying more attention." I said, letting an embarrassed blush creep onto my cheeks. Why did he have to actually run into me?

"Can I buy you another coffee?” He offered.

"Oh, you don't have to do that"

"No, I insist. Really." He said, reopening the door to the café.

"Okay," I hesitated. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

"Nice to meet you, Y/N, I’m Harry. What do you like to drink?”

I heard Thompson in my ear immediately, "Vanilla soy latte,” he basically shouted.

"Vanilla soy latte, please" I offered a smile to the barista, hiding my wince. “A grande.”

"You're joking." Harry smiled down at me. He was taller than I expected. Standing about 6”1. His curls cut into the frame of his sunglasses. Cute. I thought to myself.

"Why?" I asked, letting a giggle escape my lips.

"That's what I drink" He chuckled. Okay. I see what you’re doing, Thompson.

We smiled at each other and finished ordering. The drinks were up almost instantly. We sat at a table I chose outside. Purposely, so the team could continue watching.

"So, tell me about yourself," He started, taking a sip of his latte.

"I-" I paused briefly, waiting for instruction from Thompson.

"You work as the marketing director for Accent" Accent is a huge professional services firm. There’s no way I’m getting away with this.

"I work as a marketing director.” I took a breath, “For Accent."

"That's cool, I have some friends who work over there." Is he onto me? "Do you know Rich?”

"Rich Charleston. Operations Manager. 5"5. Auburn hair. Brown eyes.” Thompson barked in my ear.

"Oh yeah. The operations manager? He's not that tall. Auburn hair?" I questioned, a coy smile playing at my lips.

"Yeah! That's him! Funny, I've been to a few work parties with them. I've never seen you around." He looked at his coffee and came back to me. I felt my cheeks tinge pink yet again. No way I’m making it through this.

"Y/N, you're doing great. Just go with it. You started at Accent three months ago. They haven't had a company party in five months.” Thompson stated. It’s weird. Almost as if playing detective. Wait. I am a detective. A very…high end detective.

"Oh, yeah. I only started a few months ago, so that would make sense." I giggled, taking a sip of my latte.

Harry’s phone started ringing in his pocket. He slipped it out to check the notification. "Shit, sorry. I actually have to get going. I'm late for a meeting. Could I get your number?" He asked, handing over his phone.

"Yeah, that'd be nice." I took his phone where the ‘add new contact’ was already on his screen. I entered my information and handed it back. "Great, I'll see you around then."

"Gladly." He was off, hopping into the back seat of an awaiting SUV across the street. As it pulled away, I noticed it was in a no-parking zone. Of course, it would be. He's the president's son.

It has been three weeks since my ‘run in’ with Harry. He texted me an hour later asking if he could see me again. We had seen each other twice over the course of three weeks. Each time in a public setting to ensure the FBI could have an eye on us at all times.

We talked mostly about my work. He had finally let it slide through text that he was the President’s son. It was easy to act surprised through text. It would be harder to act as if I didn’t know my coworkers if it ever got to the point that I would be seeing him in a more intimate setting.

I was starting to realize why so many women were swooning for him. Not only was he handsome – he was charming, sweet, and extremely articulate.

I sat in Mr. Thompson’s office discussing plans for the upcoming benefit. The benefit that Harry had yet to ask me to.

"Mr. Thompson, he has no idea this plan is underway. Like what happens if he tries to make advances on me. I did not sign up to be this boy's actual girlfriend.” I borderline complained.

"Miss. Y/L/N. This is your duty for the time being. We're trying to keep him safe and clean up his image. This is the best way we can do that.”

"Mr. Thompson, with all due respect, what if he actually starts to have feelings for me. What if he asks me to be his girlfriend? What if – "

Mr. Thompson raised a hand to interrupt me. "Miss Y/L/N, if that happens, we will handle it. Mr. Styles will never know. Now for the upcoming benefit. You will attend with Mr. Styles. As always, you will wear an earpiece. Members of the secret service will be aware of your presence. If something comes up, I will be in your ear warning you to get Mr. Styles out of there. Understood?"

"Yes sir,” I agreed, sulking into the chair. “But sir, he hasn’t even asked me.” Thompson’s hands brushed through the air - almost as to dismiss my thoughts.

“Oh, don’t worry, kid.” He snickered. “Mr. Horan, the head of his security, has intel that he will be asking you.”

As predicted, Harry did ask me to join him at the benefit. Giving me a two-day notice. Scratch that. Harry said he wanted me to come to a “party” and ‘wear something suited for a ball’ I recounted the statement as he was dropping me off from our brunch “date” on Thursday.

I stared at myself in the champagne-colored gown in my full-length mirror. I let out a frustrated sigh. This was so wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this to him. He’s actually really sweet. How can I untangle myself from this mess? I could commit treason, leave the country, and lay under the radar. One part of my brain told me. Or be put to death. The other part reminded me. I gave myself one last look-over and decided it was time to head to the lobby.

My roommate, Ashley, whistled at me as I walked out of my bedroom into the kitchen. “Going somewhere nice?” she asked.

“Work event,” I brushed off. I hadn’t told her anything. Specifically, because of the confidentiality behind the mission.

“With Harry Styles?” I froze in my tracks, taking a deep breath.

“How did you know that?”

“Sweetheart. You are all over the magazine covers. Do you think no one has cameras in public? I was speechless. How could I be so naïve that journalists who have such a strong eye on Harry’s personal, party lifestyle wouldn’t spot us out?

“Honey,” I heard our third roommate, Summer, call from the couch. “Did you really think you could be so slick?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ashlie chimed in.

Before I could answer, a call from Harry popped up on my phone. “I’m sorry, I have to go. He’s here.” I said turning on my heel to exit our apartment.

“Wait – “ Summer stopped me – “Can you please give us some juicy details on the man-who – I mean your new fling when you get home?”

I laughed at her response with a nod and started my trek to the lobby.

He was waiting outside the SUV, dressed in a black suit and a matching champagne tie. “Well don’t you look lovely.”

I blushed at his compliment. The security guard driving us gave me a curt nod as he opened the door for us. “Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself.”

When I dodged his kiss, he pulled me in for a hug before gesturing for me to get in first. “Thanks.” Despite the disappointment in his eyes, Harry’s smile was beaming. He looked absolutely adora – Y/N stop. This is strictly for work.

The door shut behind us and in half a second we were whizzing down the street to the banquet hall where the Benefit was being held.

“I’m really happy you agreed to be my date tonight,” Harry commented, not breaking his gaze from the window. “You can meet my parents.”

Parents? As in, the President and first lady of the United States? My body shivered at the thought. I have been in the same room as them before, yes. But meeting them as not an employee – but their son’s date, friend or whatever you want to call it – is terrifying.

“Wow, that would be – “ I tried to find the right words – “nice.”

“Really?” His eyes wandered to mine. “Most people would about shit themselves right about now.”

Well I’m damn near close, Styles.

When we pulled up to the entrance of the venue, our driver – Niall, I learned – hopped out and got the door for us. My eyes were blinded by the flashing lights. Harry grabbed my hand and helped me onto the ground. As we made our ascent, paparazzi were flooding him with questions. “Harry, Harry! Who’s this?” “New flame of the week kid?” “I heard you were bringing Kendall Jenner” could be heard from every angle.

Harry apologized as soon as the doors shut behind us. I shook my head to let him know it was okay.

“I am way too sober for this,” Harry mentioned before we walked into the noisy room. “And it hasn’t even started.” I let out a quiet giggle as he smiled at me.

The benefit passed with ease. As Harry walked us around making small talk and thanking people for coming, Thompson was in my ear telling me who people were and how they got invited. Harry and I kept making trips back to the bar. While I nursed two glasses of wine, Harry had drank 4 rum and cokes. It was becoming clear that Harry was feeling good. Almost too good for him to continue being at this event.

As a last stop around the room, we walked towards his parents.

“Harry, my boy. Thanks for being here tonight,” President Styles pulled Harry in for a hug.

“Like I had a choice?” He rolled his eyes. President Styles gave a laugh, one Harry didn’t reciprocate.

“Who’s this?” His mother asked as her gaze moved to me. Her eyes were kind. They matched Harry’s, I noticed.

“Mom, dad.” Harry said as he wrapped an arm around my waist, “This is my date, Y/N.”

“Hi,” I offered my hand to shake, “It’s so nice to meet you. Thank you for having me tonight.”

“The pleasures all ours, sweetie.” His mother affirmed. I felt a smile creep onto my lips. His parents were sweet - partly informal.

As we were making our way to a table, we were stopped by a friend of Harry’s – Louis. Apparently, they had been long time friends. As they grew up, Louis had started a media company, one which Harry happily invested in to help him out.

“Harry, this your date?” He asked curiously.

“Yes, this is my future girlfriend, Y/N.” His words slurred, I felt the wind knock out of me. Girlfriend? FUTURE girlfriend?

“How about a kiss for the camera?” Louis interrupted my thoughts. “For a piece I’m working on?”

“Why not?” This boy was definitely drunk. Without having time to react, Harry grabbed my waist and quickly, yet gently, pressed his lips to mine. It lasted only about half a second and I found myself wanting more.

Harry chatted with Louis for a few more minutes before bidding goodbye and continuing our walk to a table in the back. I brought my fingers to brush against my lips, still feeling his burning into my memory.

The next hour passed quickly. Harry had downed another two drinks because “I’ve already talked to everyone I need to and now I can relax.” I could see why the media calls him a party boy. He’s 0 – 100 real quick.

Our conversation flowed easily and I found myself enjoying his presence.

“I’m having a really good time,” Harry slurred into my ear. He snuck an arm around my shoulders at some point, and I didn’t really care.

“So am I.”

“Good, I was really nervous to ask you.” His admission took me by surprise. The entire three weeks I’ve known him, he never seemed shy. He was always respectful. I’ve learned so much about the party boy that always seemed to be judged. If it were me, no one would care if I went out with my friends every weekend and brought a different guy home. But because he’s, well, Harry Styles. It matters. The presidential family is supposed to be clean, polished, not having any dirty laundry. But the media loves to air his.

I learned Harry had a – what most would call – normal upbringing. Small home in the outskirts of NYC. He went to public school up until high school, when his father had decided to run for congress and got in. His favorite color is yellow – because it’s happy. He loves music from the 70’s and 80’s because it reminds him of his childhood. He knows about his party-boy persona and absolutely loathes it – but continues to live it because it’s the only way he can let go of the stress from being the President’s son.

“Why were you nervous?”

“Well, it’s always intimidating to meet a beautiful woman who knows what she wants in life and won’t settle for less. I was especially nervous because I thought not only my reputation, but my status would scare you off.” My chest felt tight. If only he knew that everything, well half of everything, I told him were lines being fed to me from the Director of the FBI. “And I’m sorry it took so long for me to tell you. I didn’t want to lie. But I felt like it would be easier for us to get to know each other before I told you.”

There’s that word. Lie. I hate that word but yet, it’s what I was doing almost every time we were together.

“I don’t want you to ever feel nervous or feel like you have something to hide from me.” I took the hand he had draped around me in my own. “I just want you to be yourself. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. I don’t care about your status or the fact that your parents are the President and First Lady. That’s not something you should feel ashamed of.”

For the first time, Harry’s smile met his eyes. He’s smiled plenty when we’re together, but this was different. He tugged me closer and placed his lips on my cheek. They burned from his touch. My body temperature must have risen 10 degrees.

Did Thompson see that? Of course, he did. Wait, where is he? My smile dropped as I looked across the room, hoping for a sign of Thompson. He hadn’t been in my ear for a while. I wonder if everything’s okay.

“Everything’s fine,” I moved my eyes around the room once more, confused. “I can see that look on your face. I know that look. You were getting worried.”

Where the heck is Thompson and how can he see my face.

“Niall is about to grab you to take you both home. So, I’m off for the night. You’re on your own kid.” I heard the familiar static as they shut my earpiece off. So, they had heard that entire conversation, wonderful.

I smiled, reaching for my ear to take the piece out, but halting my movements when I remembered Harry was still sat next to me.

“Mr. Styles, the car is here.” Niall leaned down to whisper to Harry.

“Alright, love. Off we go.” Harry let his arm fall from my shoulder. I stood to grab my clutch off the table. I paused when I noticed Harry guzzling the rest of his drink before setting the glass on the table. “What?” he asked innocently. “I wasn’t going to just leave it there. Someone could try to sell that since my lips have touched it!” I smirked at him before linking my arm with his.

The drive home was filled with Harry trying to be touchy feely and a bit too flirtatious. Between him keeping trying to rest his hand on my knee, and the many compliments he spewed out in a drunken slur, I felt myself loosening up and enjoying his drunken, flirty presence. Niall made eye contact with me in the mirror one too many times for me to be comfortable with.

He knows.

When we pulled up to my building, I opened the door only to feel a tug on my wrist. I craned my neck to look at Harry, who didn’t let go of my arm.

“Will you kiss me?” His glazed eyes bore into mine as he leaned over to my half of the seat, “For real this time?” I contemplated for a second. Yes, I would like to kiss you again. Will I? I can’t.

I giggled at his lazy smile and glanced to the mirror at Niall who seemed to be minding his own business, “You’re drunk Harry.”

“Would you reconsider if I was sober?”

“Goodnight, Harry” I said, hopping out of the SUV.

“I’ll take that as a maybe!” He called as I shut the door.

What is this boy doing to me?

It’s been three days since the benefit. I hadn’t heard from Harry much, maybe a text or two over the last two days. I wish I could say I didn’t care. But I did. Yes, what I was doing was wrong. But after seeing him in a vulnerable state being drunk at the benefit, he grew on me. A lot more than I’d like to admit. Even though I hadn’t heard from him, I still had the inside scoop from Thompson. Apparently, Mr. Horan was keeping a tight leash on him. No parties or clubs recently.

One thing that should’ve been noticed a lot sooner on my part was that every time I was with Harry or Harry was out, he had Niall maybe 5 feet away. So why the hell would they need me?

Oh right – clean up the image.

“Y/N!” Ashlie screamed from the kitchen. I came to a screeching halt in front of her at the counter. “Have you seen these?” I furrowed my brows as she angled her laptop screen towards me. Right on the landing page of the most popular magazine’s website was Harry’s picture. Stumbling out of a club with none-other than Kendall Jenner, hand in hand.

My brows furrowed even closer when I grabbed the laptop from the counter. I quietly walked to the couch and sat down. ‘Eligible bachelor, Harry Styles couldn’t seem to get enough of the model as they were seen being cozy all night at popular night club, Avalon Nightclub downtown Washington, D.C.’

Would this jeopardize my mission? How would Thompson handle this? What now? Was he really done with me just like that?

With too many thoughts to process, I sat the computer next to me and stared at the blank TV. The weight of the couch shifted next to me. Ashlie slid her arms around my torso and rested her head on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” She was trying to be empathetic; I know. But I also didn’t want her pity.

“It’s okay,” I tilted my head to rest on top of hers. “Who needs him anyways?”

Wait, I do.

I stared out the window behind Mr. Thompson. He tapped his fingers in pattern on his desk, other hand resting on his cheek.

“Miss. Y/L/N.” He started, stopping his fingers from tapping. I flicked my eyes to his. “I knew this would be hard, having the type of personality he does. He doesn’t – doesn’t have a long attention span when it comes to women.”

I looked back to the window, admiring the cars streaming by on the 695. I already knew that. We all knew it. You thought one of your agents could change him? People don’t change because you want them to. They change because they want to.

When I didn’t offer a response, Thompson continued. “Did something happen after the benefit? After we unplugged you?”

I thought back to that night. Our drive home was filled mainly with his giggles and slurred pick-up lines.

“I don’t think – “ I didn’t kiss him. He wanted to kiss me, and I didn’t. “He wanted to kiss me, Mr. Thompson.”

“You didn’t kiss him, right?”

“Yes.” He quirked an eyebrow. “No, I mean – yes, I didn’t kiss him.” I clarified. I wanted to though.

“Miss. Y/L/N, we’ve brought in Mr. Horan. Head of his security. ”Thompson waved to Mr. Horan through the window. The screech from the chair next to me as it slid across the tile floor. My eyes flashed to the man next to me. Niall. Now it makes sense.

“Miss. Y/L/N,” Niall cleared his throat, “Nice to see you again.”

“You as well, Mr. Horan.”

“As you know, Mr. Horan here is the head of Mr. Styles’ security and has been keeping an eye on him since the beginning of President Styles’ term. He’s here to shed some insight and help us through this obstacle. He knows Harry the best, so we will have his assistance for matters like this.” Mr. Thompson gestured to Niall to start speaking about what he knows.

“Yeah, so” Niall shifted in his seat and crossed his ankle at the knee. “Harry’s a bit frustrated. He feels like, I don’t know. That you – “ I caught his eyes drift to mine – “aren’t ‘interested’ in him anymore”

I scoffed at the remark, earning a glare from Mr. Thompson. “Miss. Y/L/N, a problem?”

“Sorry it’s just – “ I took a deep breath to calm my nerves, resting my palms on my thighs – “He feels like I’m not interested? When three days after the benefit he’s out gallivanting around D.C? That’s ridiculous.”

“See,” Niall turned towards me, “That’s just it. That’s how Harry copes. He doesn’t have healthy coping mechanisms. He thinks the best way to get around his issues is to drink them away. It’s why he drank so much at the benefit. It’s why he drinks so much in general.”

It explains a lot. He had told me that he’s been under stress, and I can only imagine how much stress he feels from having to live up to a perfect image that he can’t attain with his reputation.

“So, what do I do?”

“I’ve tried to knock some sense into him. I may protect Harry for a living, but he is my friend, and I care about him and his feelings.”

The Saturday sun was warm on my skin. I stared at the clouds in the sky, listened to the kids playing about 50 feet away, and the ducks in the pond. I should be at the gym, I reminded myself. Or at least running.

It’d been a week since I last saw Harry, part of me missed him. Thompson said he was going to work with Niall and how to get the boy back on track. Why me out of all people? There were so many young women in the FBI at this point, so why me? ‘Because we see the most potential in you. Half these women won’t make it another 6 months.’ Thompson’s voice rang in my ears from our conversation yesterday afternoon.

The bright darkness dimmed behind my eyelids. I opened one to see a figure standing above me. I jolted out of my comfort.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” I said sitting up and criss crossing my legs.

“Uh – “ raising a hand to the back of their neck – “Can we talk?”

“Yeah Summer, what’s up?” She sat opposite of me in the grass and looked around the park.

“It’s a nice day today, isn’t it?” Her eyes never settled on mine. She’s being cautious.

“Yeah, great day to be outside.” I looked over to the swimming ducks, still quacking at each other.

What I would give to be a duck right now. Not having any worries about whether or not my job was still intact. If my friends hated me for lying to them. If the boy I liked was done with me before even having a chance to know me, and really me.

“So,” Summer started after a few minutes of silence. I looked at her expectantly. “Someone dropped by today to see you.” My heart jumped; my palms started to sweat. Was Harry at my apartment?

“Harry?”

“Uh – “ she faltered – “No, Louis?” I scrunched my brows, confused. I wracked my brain trying to figure out who Louis was. “He said he’s a friend. You apparently met him at the Benefit? I told him you were out and didn’t know when you’d be back. He said to call him and left his number.” I looked at my crossed ankles. Oh, Louis. Wait, Louis took that picture of me and Harry. What does he want? “Do you know him?”

I looked back at Summer. “Yeah, he’s… he’s one of Harry’s friends.”

“You should probably call him, he looked in a rush.” I lifted my head in a nod, letting my eyes fall to the grass between us. A comfortable silence took over. “Y/N, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about whatever happened between you and… him. But I’m here for you if you do.”

“I know that, Summer. Thank you.”

I took a few steps into my room and tossed my purse onto my bed. I decided I should give Louis a call to see what’s going on.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Louis. It’s Y/N. I heard you stopped by today.”

“Oh!” He sounds surprised. His tone quickly hushed. “Y/N, thanks for calling. Yeah, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay,” I sat in my desk chair with one leg tucked under me. “What’s going on?”

“Can you meet me?” There was a long pause.

“Wh – “

“In an hour, at the park by the white house.” Before I could respond, I heard the click of him hanging up.

What?

I didn’t take much time to get ready to meet Louis. I threw a gray zip up sweatshirt over my tank top and slipped on my flare jeans with converse and was on my way. Louis texted me to say he wanted to ask me a few questions about the benefit – for a promotion he was working on for his company.

The sun had set on my way over, the purple, black sky taking over the D.C air. I glanced at the sky as I stood by the lamp post in the park. The stars look beautiful tonight. My eyes kept traveling around the park. Something I was trained to do. Have your eyes everywhere at all times.

I heard him before I saw him. The heavy footsteps, deep breathing. He sounds troubled. I whipped my head in the opposite direction.

“Y/N?” He asked, pulling the hood off his head. I could only nod. “What are you doing here?”

“I – “ I was off the script. No earpiece with Thompson telling me what to do, who to be, anything. “Just out for a stroll.” Harry stared at me as if he wasn’t really seeing me. He shook his head, his long locks falling in front of his face. He ran his hand through his hair, pulling the pieces that had fallen from his face.

“By… the white house?” He asked incredulously.

“Yeah, I love this park. Very peaceful with some great views.” I concluded. Louis sent me here, he knows what he’s doing. He and Harry are longtime friends. They must’ve talked.

“Right…” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around.

“I wanted to talk.” “We should talk.” We spoke at the same time. Our eyes locked before breaking into giggles and looking at our feet.

“You go ahead,” Harry encouraged.

“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked.

“I –“ He rubbed the back of his neck. “How drunk was I that night?”

I blinked harshly, not expecting him to ask that. “What?”

“I don’t remember much after slamming my drink right before we left and…” He took a step away from me. “I was a little embarrassed and I wasn’t sure if I said or did anything wrong and… I thought if I held off for a bit then it wouldn’t be a big deal…”

“So why still didn’t you call?” Harry shook his head, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“You didn’t get my voicemail?” He quirked his head.

“What voicemail?”

“Y/N, I called you like three times.”

“What?” Then it hit me. Thompson. Thompson tapped my phone when starting the mission to have all the details. But why?

“I just kinda thought you were done with us and I had done something after the benefit.”

“Harry, I had no idea. Honest… Is that why you went out with Kendall?”

He laughed at my question. “I haven’t gone out with Kendall. I haven’t seen her in months. Those pictures are from like… November.” I was bewildered.

I composed myself before speaking, “I’m sorry to have assumed the worst…”

“It’s okay,” he stepped closer. “Can I come to your place?”

“Right now?”

He glanced at his feet and back to me, “Yeah.” He murmured. Only meaning to be heard between us two.

“Are you okay?” I tucked some stray hair behind my ear, shifting my weight from my left foot to my right.

“I just – I just don’t want to go back yet. I had to sneak out and I just need some time away.” Running one hand through his hair, he grabbed my hand with the other.

“Okay.”

The ride to my apartment was quiet. Harry didn’t say much about what was going on within the White House walls, although I’m sure I would find out come Monday, if not sooner. I was trying to read his moving eyes, but there wasn’t much to tell. His eyes told a completely different story than his lips.

His lips spoke of stress and hardship. His eyes shine like the moon over a Georgia river in the dead of night.

When I finally parked my car in the lot, Harry slid out of my car with grace, taking my hand as each of us rounded the back of my car.

“This is it,” I sighed when opening the door to my apartment.

“Wow,” He looked from the kitchen to the living room before turning to face me, “Cute.”

“Oh my gosh,” I whipped my head to see Ashlie coming into the entrance in a towel from the hallway – clearly not expecting company.

“Uh – Hi.” Harry awkwardly waved.

“Hi, wow. Wasn’t expecting you.” She gave a small smile and gestured to her attire.

“It’s not a problem. Nice to meet you,” Harry extended his hand for her, which she gladly took, “I’m Harry.”

“Oh, I know who you are. I’m Ashlie.” Ashlie let out a flirty giggle. You know, the kind you hear at a bar when a girl is trying too hard to let a man know his jokes are ‘funny’.

“We’ll uh – be in my room.” I remarked, breaking up the awkwardness I could feel radiating through the room.

Harry trailed behind me, telling me he thought Ashlie seemed nice.

“How many roommates do you have?” He questioned, taking a seat on the foot of my bed.

“Two. My other roommate, Summer, is probably at her boyfriend’s.” I hung my hoodie over the back of my desk chair and took a seat on it backwards so I could face him. Harry nodded his head before letting his body fall back onto my bed. “So, what’s going on? At home?”

“It’s nothing,” He groaned, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

“It’s obviously something if you’re sneaking out and wandering parks at night without guards. How’d you even get away with that anyways?”

“The White House has many escape routes that can’t be seen by the control room. I’ve found them all.” He stated, putting his hands behind his head.

“Interesting.” The silence that filled the room was deafening. “Harry,” I paused waiting for him to look at me. His eyes gradually found mine. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just tired of my family and the security telling me my behavior is ‘unacceptable’ because I’m the President’s son. I can’t go out with my friends. I can’t be seen with girls who are friends. I can’t have a drink in a bar.” He stood from my bed and started pacing around my room like his life depended on it. “When I’m in the White House, all I have is people barking orders in my ear, telling me what I can and can’t do. What I can and can’t wear. Who I can and can’t see? So, I guess,” Harry brought his hands to his head and started pulling his hair at the roots, “When I do get to go out with friends, I get carried away. Unfortunately, every time.”

I didn’t know what to say. What I want to say? I can relate. What can I say? Nothing.

When he moved to sit back on my bed, I joined him. He brought his chest between his knees and bowed his head, taking the stance of looking like he was about to vomit. I rested my hand on his back and tried my best to rub soothing circles between his shoulder blades, still looking for the right words. “Harry, I’m sorry. I had no idea that was something you had to deal with.”

“I know, because I don’t share that part of my life. Not with anyone. The only one who really knows is Niall. But that’s only because he’s with me when I’m out and that’s when it all comes out.” He lifted his head and turned to look at me. “He’s the only person I really trust. He’s my best friend and I trust him with my life. I know it’s his job to be there. But, he’s the only one I really have.”

“That’s not true. You have loads of friends. I’ve seen them in the pictures with you.”

“No, those people – while they’re nice to hang out with – they only care about my status. They care about Harry Styles, President’s son. Not Harry.”

“I – I don’t know what to say.” And I truly didn’t. Here he is, spilling his heart to me again, and I can’t even reciprocate without blowing my cover.

“You don’t have to say anything. I thought Niall was the only person that actually cared about me. As in Harry, the person. And then I met you.”

“What do you mean?”

Harry sat up and turned his body towards mine, grabbing both my hands in his.

“Y/N, I know you would never do anything to hurt me. You care about me. You ask me about me, not what my family is doing, or what bills are going through congress. Or even try to advance your career through me.”

My mouth got dry, but I felt like I was drowning. How can he not see through this act? When will I give it up? When will Thompson have it cut? His eyes bore into mine.

“I really like you, Y/N.”

“I – I like you too Harry.” I have to tell him; I have to tell him the girl he thinks he knows is not who she says she is. I have to tell him; this was all part of my job. But this isn’t. It’s not your job to be here with him right now.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” The proposition tore me from my thoughts. I got up and headed for the door, gesturing for him to follow me down the hall.

I plopped on the couch flipping the TV on. Harry sat next to me and flung his arm to the back of the couch behind me.

“Should we just search romantic comedies on Netflix and see what we find?” He looked over to me, nodding excitedly.

We flipped through Netflix for 10 minutes before finally deciding on 27 Dresses. The movie was the only thing that could be heard in the living room. At whatever point, Harry let his arm fall onto my shoulders and pulled me into him. I let my head rest on his shoulder as we continued watching.

“Hey Y/N?” I looked up at him, humming in response. “I’m sober now.” I scrunched my eyebrows and opened my mouth to speak, “Can I kiss you now?” My heart sped up, and my cheeks warmed with the blood rushing to them.

“I - I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” I let my head dip so I wasn’t looking at him.

“Why’s that?” He asked, confusion taking over his tone. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, but... I would really like to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I do. It’s just - “ I thought of all the things that could possibly go wrong - the FBI busting into my apartment to have me arrested, me starting what feels like a real relationship based on lies, breaking his heart after he let me in.

“Then let me,” Harry cupped my cheek and brought our gazes together. I stared at him for a moment before lightly nodding.

His lips ghosted over mine before gently pressing together. I swear I could hear his heartbeat. Or maybe it was mine. I rested my hand on his cheek and his hand moved to my waist, pulling me as close as possible. It wasn’t heavy, and it wasn’t quick. It was soft and sweet, like him.

He pulled away and leaned back into the couch. A smile graced his face. I nuzzled back into him and pulled my feet up on the couch.

I woke up to the room completely dark, the only light coming from the dim light above the oven. I was still laying on Harry. I sat up, removing his arms from my waist. I grabbed my phone from the table to check the time. 2:36am. Oh shit, I turned back to wake Harry.

“Harry, Harry wake up. You have to go.” I shook him out of his sleep.

“What why?” He stirred, rubbing his eyes, barely coming out of his sleep.

“It’s 2:36AM.”

“Mmmmm comfy.” He closed his eyes again and rested further into the couch.

“Harry, no. You’re gonna get into trouble.” I stood up and grabbed his hands trying to pull him off the couch.

“No, I won’t”

“Harry,” I insisted. When he wouldn’t budge, I gave up. Flopping back into the couch.

“Can I just stay – you won’t even know I was here.”

I woke up in my bed. I looked at my clock next to me. 9:22am. Was it a dream? I sat up, same tank top. Same jeans. I searched for my phone to find it under my pillow with a sticky note.

Left around 5. Carried you to bed and didn’t want to wake you. Call me. – Harry

Sticking my phone in my back pocket, I pulled myself out of bed and let my feet guide me to the bathroom. What did I do? Why did I have to do that?

After staring at myself for almost two minutes, I decided to call Harry.

“Hello?” his voice was chipper.

“How’d you get home?” I asked, putting the call on speaker so I could wash my face.

“I took an Uber. I woke up to one missed call and one text from Niall asking if I was in my room from around 2. I figured it’d be best if I was back in the house before sunrise and not let anyone get suspicious.” At least he was thoughtful of other peoples’ sleep schedules.

“Ah, alright.”

“Yeah.”

“So, you wanted me to call you?” I stated, remembering his note.

“Oh, yeah! I’m picking you up for breakfast.” He said, I could feel his smile through the phone. Man does this boy get right back on the love train; I swear.

“You? Or Niall?” I teased, breaking into a smile. I grabbed my washcloth and wet it to begin washing my face.

“Ha ha. Funny. No, me. Just you, me, and some delicious breakfast.” He clarified. Should I tell Thompson? Probably.

“Okay.”

“I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes.” We said goodbye and felt my heart beating faster. I quickly texted Thompson to let him know what was happening. I started the shower and dropped my clothes. Washing everything quickly, I felt my nerves beginning to settle in. Should I even have said yes? What if Thompson doesn’t want me to? Too late.

When I got out, I checked my phone for a response.

Thompson – 9:37am: Earpiece.

He really was a man of few words. Powerful words, but few. I quickly blew dry my hair and changed into some leggings and a ¾ sleeve blouse. Finishing putting on some light makeup, I heard a knock on the front door.

“Harry!” Ashlie exclaimed, “Good to see you again.”

I walked out to see Harry looking awkwardly at her. She was asking how everything was going for him, to which he politely smiled and said “Fine, Thanks.” His eyes lit up when they connected with mine.

“Hey, you.” He smiled, pulling me in for a hug

“Hi,” I greeted, returning his smile and accepting his arms around me.

“Ready?”

‘Let me just grab my purse,” I said, backing away down the hallway towards my room. I quickly grabbed the earpiece from my drawer and inserted it into my ear. I grabbed my purse from my desk and started heading back to our entryway. I paused in the doorway, glancing at my open drawer with my pistol sticking out. I slipped it into my purse before returning to Harry. “Okay, let’s go.”

Ashlie moved to the kitchen to make herself some breakfast, taking peeks over her shoulder at Harry. She shot me a wink as Harry opened the front door to lead us out.

When we were settled in the car, Harry turned to me. “First things first, I wanted to say thank you to you. For last night. And I’m sorry if I was intruding.”

“You weren’t,” I reassured him, “You never are.” As I finished my sentence, I heard the static in my earpiece. Thompson’s on.

“Morning superstar. I don’t know what happened last night, but good job getting him back.” If only he knew.

Harry turned on the radio for our drive. As we drove further out of the city, he told me how he loved some of the neighborhoods we were driving by. Mostly because he had friends living there that he made when we were in high school because Mr. Styles would often bring him to D.C., and he would meet other congressmen’s children.

I laughed at his jokes, and when he sang. Frankly, he can’t sing. But he does a very nice job trying.

When we pulled up to the café, I noticed it was quite small. Niall hadn’t brought us here on our previous brunch meetings.

“Where are we?” I questioned.

“Oh, my dad used to take me here in high school. I don’t get to come too often anymore. Ya know, security and everything.”

Right.

Breakfast went exactly how I thought it would. Harry talked about his life, asked me about mine, and Thompson fed me lines that apparently “Niall had done ‘research’, and this is what Harry wants to hear.”

But this time, when I laughed with Harry, I felt more genuine. My feelings were too. I really liked him. He was kind, generous, thoughtful. Everything a good man acted like.

When he dropped me off, Harry walked me to my door. I didn’t hesitate to kiss his cheek. Harry grabbed my hands and squeezed them.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” He glanced at his feet, letting a grin bless his features with his dimples showing perfectly. I nodded, squeezing his hands back. He pulled me into him for a hug. I wrapped my arms around his waist, not wanting to let go.

“Bye, Harry.” I opened the door when he let go of me.

“Bye, Y/N.”

The next week felt like it flew by. I would see Harry after work, either for dinner, a drink, a movie, a walk, really anything he could think of to see me.

Thompson would be in my ear, encouraging me. Sometimes he wasn’t, those were my favorite nights with Harry. I could be myself without having to worry about if Thompson thought ‘Well that wasn’t the right thing to say.”

My phone ringing brought me out of my sleep. I looked at the caller ID and immediately answered.

“Hello?” I greeted, rubbing the sleep from my left eye.

“Can you come over?” Harry asked, his voice cracking near the end. I pulled the phone away from my ear. 1:11am. After a pause he added, “Please?” The desperation in his voice was almost tangible. A shiver ran down my spine just hearing his broken voice.

“Yeah, of course.” I threw my covers off of me and grabbed my nearest pair of jeans. I pulled them on and picked up one of Harry’s long sleeve t-shirts and ripped it over my head. “I’ll be there in 15.”

“Thank you,” he sobbed. “I can let you in by the east garden.” I hung up my phone and hesitated to grab my keys. I should take an Uber. Guards would see my car parked near the White House. I opened the Uber app and ordered a car.

“Morning ma’am.” Said Andrew, the driver.

“Morning,” I grumbled, climbing in the backseat.

“How was your night?” he asked, smiling at me through the rearview mirror.

“Could be better,” I sighed, rubbing my fingers into my temples.

“Oh, I totally get it,” he started. Andrew talked almost the entire way about his night. When he dropped me on the corner a block away from the White House, he concluded his rant with “And that’s when I kicked him out. Well, I hope your night gets better! Life’s too short to have bad sex.” I gave him the best smile I could muster and got out of his car.

I walked up the street and crossed through an alley to get to the East garden. I saw a sliver of light coming from a shrub. The sliver of light grew bigger, giving away that it was actually a door. A disheveled Harry appeared in the light. As I got closer, I noticed his eyes were red and puffy. He’s been crying. When I was close enough, he instantly crashed his body into mine, holding me so tight I might combust.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” I asked, cuddling him closer. He let out a choked weep. “Come on, let’s go.” I said, pulling away. He grabbed my hand and led us through the tunnels.

When we got to the halls, Harry looked around every corner, checking for guards before sneaking us to his room. The door clicked shut and the only thing I could hear were his soft sniffles. I took in the room before me. It was large and decorated for a king. There were items scattered, a chair tipped over, and a lamp lay broken on the floor next to his bed.

He took a seat on the edge of his bed, lowering his head with his hands covering his face. I walked over and took a seat next to him. I placed my hand on his shoulder and took another look around.

“Harry,” I whispered. “What happened?”

“He’s so disappointed in me.” He mumbled, barely audible. His body shook with sobs, soft enough to go unnoticed by anyone passing by.

“Who? Your dad?”

“He said his approval rate has barely gone up, and when he asked the cabinet about it, they – they told him it was my fault.” My heart broke at his words.

“Harry, I’m so – “

“He doesn’t get it. No one does,” he ripped himself from my grasp and stood in front of me, facing the door. “I have him, his cabinet, members of the staff, media, friends, everyone constantly yelling at me. Just because I want to go out and be normal. Live a normal life.” He was facing me now, arms flailing around to get his point across. “And as soon as I get something right, it’s not good enough!”

“What do you mean?” I inquired. I stood up and placed my hands on his shoulders, leading him back to sit down. “Talk to me.”

“You,” he stated as if it was obvious. When I didn’t respond, he continued. “Ever since I met you, I’ve been trying to better myself. Not go out as much, get away from the crowd that only talked to me because they want something. I haven’t had any interest in doing that because – well. I want to be the best man I can. For you.”

I stood straight at his confession. I was left speechless. I took a deep breath before kneeling on the ground in front of him. I opened my mouth and closed it again, not knowing what to say.

“Harry, I – I’m proud of you for doing all of that.”

“Well I’m glad someone is,” he exclaimed. He threw himself back onto his bed and covered his face with his hands.

I got up and sat next to him, criss crossing my legs. I grabbed his hands from his face and held them.

“I’m sure your dad is proud of you too. He just doesn’t know how to say it.” I tried to assure him.

“Yeah because ‘if you would’ve kept the clean image like I told you to’ screams ‘I’m proud of you.” He groaned. He grasped my hands and brought them to his chest.

“Well, let’s think about this. Your dad is the President. He has a lot of people to answer to, and I’m sure he’s under a lot of stress.” I explained to him, rubbing circles on the backs of his hands

“I know, I know. But like, there’s a way to talk to your kids.”

“Yeah, and I’m not saying how he handled it was correct. I’m just saying, from his perspective, he’s probably not mad. Just frustrated. And I’m sure he’s proud of you for trying to better yourself.” I paused, glancing at the door. “Maybe you should just talk to him about how this experience has been for you. I know you haven’t and that might help him to better understand where you’re coming from.” I concluded.

“You’re right. I should probably try to talk to him in private.”

“Wanna hear a joke?” He nodded, cracking a small smile. “What did the drummer name his daughters? Anna one, anna two!” His giggle filled the quiet room, a chuckle left my own lips. He pulled me down, so my head was resting on his chest.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He tucked my hair behind my ear and caressed his hand down my cheek.

“I’ve been told,” I joked, returning the smile he gave me.

“No, I’m serious,” He looked at the ceiling before continuing, “You give really good advice that makes me think from another perspective, and you can make me laugh even when it feels like my world is crashing - not even two minutes ago.” He glanced back down at me. My eyes never leaving his face.

We stayed like this for a while. Talking about life, things we believed in, conspiracy theories, the best type of pasta (Tortellini was unanimously voted), everything.

Harry walked me back to the East Garden entrance around 3:00am.

“Are you sure you can’t stay the night? Niall can just drop you off in the morning.” He tried one last time.

“I’m sure, Harry.” I let out a quiet laugh. “But hey – maybe we should just keep this between us two? I don’t want to get any weird looks from m –“ I stopped myself before the words ‘my coworkers’ escaped my lips, “your guards.”

“Of course, don’t worry.” He kissed my forehead and watched as I waited for my Uber. Occasionally throwing out pick-up lines. My favorite being ‘Are you a time traveler? Because I can see you in my future’ I casually waved as the Uber pulled up.

“Y/N?” She asked. I nodded and opened the door. I took one last look towards the entrance, seeing just the crack of light, knowing Harry was watching through it.

The next few weeks continued like this. Harry sneaking out to my house, and me to his. Each time learning new secret passages that brings me to his wing, or his room. It got to be exciting, really. Seeing Harry without Thompson in my ear. I had somehow convinced him to keep Niall out of the loop of our late-night meetings. But, of course, going on public outings was a different story. Niall would be waiting in a blacked-out SUV, I had my earpiece in, and I had to give Harry lines fed from Thompson every other sentence.

Sitting in Thompson’s office was something I should be used to by now. However, ever since Harry and I began having our midnight rendezvous, I had been anxious every time Thompson was even so much as in the same building. Although Harry and I haven’t so much as kissed since that night in my apartment, every time I saw him, I could feel the sexual tension radiating off him like I was standing next to a bonfire. He was waiting for me to make the first move, which I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. It would put so much more confusion into this already sticky situation.

Harry has grown into my friend. Of course, there was romantic interest. But I couldn’t jeopardize my cover. To him, I was Y/N Y/L/N. Marketing director for Accent. Small town girl from Carolina. I went to college for Business. I have my mom and two younger brothers back home who encouraged me to follow my dreams and move to D.C. If he knew who I really was. We could never have a relationship. If he knew I was being paid to play his romantic interest, things would never be real for us.

“Miss. Y/L/N,” Thompson’s serious tone tore me from my thoughts, “We’re aware that things have gone swimmingly since Mr. Styles had picked you up for breakfast a couple weeks ago. But how are you?”

“Yes, sir,” I agreed. “I’m well. He seems to be just fine. Hasn’t been as much in the spotlight. And the press - ”

“Miss. Y/L/N,” His tone lightened a bit. Thompson clasped his hands on his desk and softened his eyes toward me. I locked eyes with him as he continued. “Y/N, how are you doing?” His question took me by surprise. Thompson is always business. Hard-core authoritarian and never cares about sick days, let alone mental health days. He didn’t care if you were vomiting on the curb, you better show up for duty.

“I – What?” I asked, bewildered. My jaw fell slack, and I prayed he couldn’t hear my thoughts.

“Y/N, I know this must be extremely hard on you. I know I asked a lot of you when I assigned you to this. I want to be sure you’re doing okay. You two spend a lot of time together and I know how charming he is. I’ve met him on several occasions.” He chuckled, pushing his chair back and coming to sit next to me.

I turned toward him and put on a poker face. “Mr. Thompson, I know the longevity of this mission, and I know what a great deal of stress this is putting on everyone involved as well.” I couldn’t help it, I let my face fall into one of agitation. “But when I’m with him, I can’t help but think of how real it is for him. How would he feel if he knew that my interest is just a hoax? That it’s part of my job description to play this part?”

Thompson moved out of his chair and moved to the windows that looked out into the office. He took his time shutting the blinds before he came to sit in front of me on his desk.

“Y/N,” He started, the unease in his voice was something new. “I know your concern for his emotions is genuine. It’s part of why I hired you. You fully invest in what you’re doing. And that’s a trait that’s hard to come by nowadays. But I also hired you because I know how tough you are. You don’t let people push you around. You’ve truly shown your character with this.”

He took a long glance out the window at the cars driving down the 695. Did he have children? I never asked. We weren’t supposed to ask our superiors about their personal lives. The office and field were strictly professional.

“The unfortunate part of our jobs, is the mere fact that everyone we interact with, is part of our job. Whether it’s a civilian on the street, or the Queen of England. We’re on guard the whole time. Take Niall for instance.” He finally brought his gaze back to mine. “Niall is the closest we have to getting inside Mr. Styles head. To understand his motives and how he may be putting a risk to himself. That’s where we come in.”

“I don’t under – “

“Like Niall, we have Joe. Joe is the head of security for President Styles. President Styles may not understand what we’re doing at the time. But always comes to thank us later.”

“Mr. Thompson,” I let the confusion slide onto my face. “With all due respect, I don’t understand how this relates.”

“What I’m saying Y/N, is that, even though it may not seem like it, we do have Mr. Styles’ best interest at heart. But to do that, we need to be on the inside as well.”

I left Thompson’s office feeling even more anxious than before I entered. The phone ringing in my pocket halted my movements. Harry was trying to FaceTime me. I took a sharp right and entered the nearest bathroom, locking the door behind me.

“Hey,” I greeted him through the screen. He was in a car, driving. His sunglasses were pulled onto his head, pushing his chocolate locks out of his face.

“Hi! Oh – I’m sorry. You’re at work, aren’t you?” He apologized.

“Oh – yeah,” I fibbed. I hated this. I wanted to scream how I didn’t work at Accent and haven’t the slightest clue what marketing strategies were. You’re in too deep at this point, slick.

“How about I come pick you up for lunch? I can say hi to Rich.” He excitedly proposed.

“I can’t today, I’m sorry. I – uh” Think Y/N, think. “I’m actually in a business meeting with a prospect. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. What’re you doing tonight?” He didn’t even seem fazed. He had grown used to my typical 9-5 day. That was actually midnight to midnight and being on call over the weekends. I, technically, was always working.

“I think Ashlie was cooking some homemade eggplant Parmesan. What’s up?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come over tonight. Maybe watch a movie with some popcorn?” He gave a light smirk, before turning it into a full grin.

“I could be up for that. After dinner?”

“Do you want me to send a car to get you? Or would you like to sneak in as usual?” There was a hint of annoyance laced in his voice. He seemed to be getting tired of sneaking around.

“I can get myself there,” I stifled a laugh, trying to lighten his mood. “East Garden?”

“Yeah, okay.” I felt bad, that I couldn’t just stroll up to the main doors of the white house. But what security didn’t know didn’t hurt us. Well, me.

I arrived at the East Garden at 8:58, Harry was waiting with the door slightly cracked, as he had continuously done throughout our little meetings.

“Hey, ninja,” He smirked.

“Ninja?” I giggled as he pulled me into a hug. He rested his head atop mine, arms around my waist.

“Yeah, I think it suits you.” He snickered.

“If only you knew,” I whispered. I pulled away, “Shall we?” He reached for my hand, interlocking our fingers. Something I had grown accustomed to.

We settled in his room, laying back on the pillows. He pulled me into his chest as The Notebook started.

“Hey Y/N?” He gingerly murmured into my hair. Feeling the day weigh on my eyelids, I offered a hum in response. “How much do you. Ya know, like me?”

My eyes flew open at the question. My heart shook my toes with how hard it was beating. “What do you mean?” Trying to keep my voice even, I tilted my head to look up at him.

“Like, we’ve been seeing each other for a bit now, so I was just wondering like.” He grabbed my left hand and gave it a squeeze, “What are we doing?”

“Harry I – “ I took a deep breath. You knew it was coming. Play stupid. “I don’t follow.”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

I sat up and turned to him, criss crossing my legs. “Harry, as much as I care about you,” The words were harder to get out than anticipated. “I really enjoy what we have going on. And, I mean, with your status. I’m nervous about it … blowing up. Does that make sense?” I shook my head at his disapproving eyes. My voice started to waver as I continued, “I’m sorry, I just. I know how nasty the media can be and…”

Harry bolted up, grabbing my face ready to wipe any tears that could fall. “Hey, I don’t want you to apologize. I just, I don’t know. I feel like you don’t want to be seen with me or something. Even around my own house…” his voice trailed as he looked down at his own legs.

I took the opportunity to grab his hands, rubbing circles into their backs. “Harry, I promise that I really care about you. I just, I’m not ready for something like that.”

“Okay, I understand.” His gaze peered back up to me. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you. I would just really love to show off the woman that has stolen my heart.” I stole his heart and felt mine drop. “Will you let me know when you are?” I could only nod. “Come on, let’s lay back down. I love this movie.”

I don’t know when Harry fell asleep. His soft snores filled the room long before the movie ended. I couldn’t move, but I had to get out of here. I had to tell Thompson I couldn’t do it anymore. I checked my phone for the time. 4:27. I have to go home. I carefully unhooked Harry’s hand from mine. I gathered my things from his desk before spotting a notepad. I glanced over at the sleeping boy. You at least owe him the courtesy to write him a note that you were leaving. He’s done the same before.

I scribbled a simple “Couldn’t sleep, call me tomorrow. - Y/N” On the paper before putting it next to him on the bed.

I cracked the door open as quietly as possible and stuck my head through the crack, looking for any potential sign of life. I slid my body through the door and shut it as lightly as possible. I ran my hands down my face and started down the hall.

“Y/N?” I froze as I was about to round the corner. I slowly turned around to find a confused Niall standing at the other end of the hall. He took several glances between me and Harry’s door. “What are you doing here?” His tone was cold.

“Niall, I – I didn’t think you’d be roaming the halls this early in the morning.” I tried to laugh it off while taking several strides towards him.

He stared at me dumbfounded. “Does Thompson know you’re here?” He took my blank expression as an answer. “So how long has this been going on?”

“Niall, it’s not what it seems.” I defended.

“No, you’re just sneaking over to the WHITE HOUSE in the middle of the night for no reason. Not to hook up with Harry?”

“Niall, it’s really not like that!” I raised my voice slightly.

“Then tell me what it’s like Y/N. You know this could jeopardize the mission!” Niall raised his voice higher than mine. Not seeming to care if other guards heard him.

“I’m being his friend, Niall!” I cried. ‘That’s all.”

“Being his friend?” He asked bemused. “I don’t think FRIENDS do what you’re doing, Y/N.” His voice lower this time.

“Niall, I’m just trying to do the best I can! There’s no precedent for stuff like this! He calls, I answer. If he asks me to be there for him, I am. Like three weeks ago when he had an all-out meltdown!” My hands swung from my sides, to cover my face.

“That’s my job Y/N, not yours. I’m the one he calls to handle situations like that.” He stated the obvious, raising his eyebrows. He spoke almost as if he was telling a three-year-old that they couldn’t jump off the monkey bars because they could get hurt.

“Yeah, Niall. I know it’s your job. But have you been doing it? Are you really his friend and have you been handling it?” I countered his argument. If Niall was the one to handle situations like that, then why did Harry call me instead?

“Y/N, I leave him alone when he gets like that. When he’s ready to talk, he does. I think I know him a little better than you.” Niall crossed his arms over his chest, his eyebrows furrowed, and his voice was ear-piercingly serious.

“Do you, Niall? Do you really? You may know about everything he’s going through professionally, but –“ I took a deep breath, composing myself so my voice was even. “Do you even know the real him? The sensitive Harry that talks about how hard this life is?” I paused taking in Niall’s cold expression

“How about the Harry that’s favorite color is yellow, or that he loves rom coms because they always end happily? Or what about the Harry that’s just trying to cope because this isn’t the lifestyle he planned or hoped for? Do you even know him Niall?” My voice crippled as I finished my rant.

Niall doesn’t know him. Niall knows what he needs to know so he can report to Thompson at the end of the week. Trouble he got into, bars he went to, where the paparazzi who photographed his every move worked so they can get the pictures back from his blacked-out adventures.

“Miss. Y/L/N,” Niall’s voice was too evenly keeled. “At least I know my place, when it comes to my job. Unlike you, who has no issues crossing clear boundaries. I will be pleased to inform Mr. Thompson of your little rendezvous with Mr. Styles this evening.” He turned his back before flicking his face over his shoulder, “And I’m sure we can find out about all the others as well.”

“What?” Niall froze in his tracks; I was too afraid to turn around. “What’s going on?”

I turned to find a red-faced Harry standing in the doorway to his bedroom.

“Harry,” our voices came in unison.

“You – Niall. Mr. Thompson?” The confusion took its rightful place on his face. “This,” Harry glanced at his sock clad feet. “This was a set up?” I couldn’t find the words to defend myself. “How did you – when were you – “ The unfinished questions never left his lips.

“Harry, I can explain.” My voice was thick. It almost hurt to get the words out. If I didn’t vomit when explaining to him why I like the privacy, it was sure about to come up now.

“You both… you both…” another unfinished question. He shut his door behind him and started walking in the opposite direction of both Niall and me. I gave a desperate glance to Niall, who quickly motioned for me to follow him.

“Go, you should talk to him.” His voice was soft. We both knew this wasn’t how it was supposed to play out. “Better you than me right now.”

I jogged to catch up to Harry. “Harry wait,” I called reaching out for his hand. He quickly swiped it from my grip and quickened his pace. “Harry, please let me explain!” I cried.

“Explain what?” He growled, stopping in his tracks. I stopped just before I crashed into him and took a step back. “Explain how you can go about your day just - just lying to me? About everything? Making me feel these things for you?” His voice was exceptionally hard, barely able to detect the hurt laced through.

“Harry, I’m sorry,” I whispered. ”I – “

“Sorry for what.” He barked, whipping around to face me. “Sorry for making me trust you, or sorry for getting caught in your big scheme.” His words rifled through me like he took an AR-15 to my heart. You should’ve known this could be the outcome. “Whatever you’re sorry for, I don’t want to hear it. See yourself out, I’m done.”

His shoulder bumped me as he walked past. I turned to watch him go back down the hall and around the corner back to his room. I remained motionless when I heard his door slam shut. I felt the wetness of a single tear rolling down my cheek and quickly raised my hand to wipe it away.

How could you have been so stupid, Y/N?

91 notes · View notes

singeramg · 4 years

Text

Ruin Me

Quick little reader insert imagine based off this post. Based off a non-ask...

*Update: Now a full length story! Check out Masterlist for my chapters?*

Pairing: CEO! Henry Cavill x Female! Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Power imbalance, dom! Henry, sub! reader, fingering, dirty talk...

Song choice: Funny How Time Flies- Meshell Ndegeocello

PART 2 HERE

“ Y/N can you bring me a cup of coffee...please.”

His voice wasn’t raised but his tone told you all you needed to know.

He was not happy. Not happy at all.

He had called you from the phone in his office, not even bothering to call through the door or better yet come to the door himself which he usually did when he needed something from you and was in a good mood. You don’t dwell on it much and you get to your feet, and hustle over to break room to make a fresh pot of coffee.

It doesn’t take long; you wait the ten minutes to brew, taking note that your coworkers are packing up for the night. You look at the clock and realize you better do the same.

Although you have nowhere special to be the last thing you wanted to do on a Friday night was spend more time at the office. You didn’t complain much, the job wasn’t had for you. You hadn’t been with the company long but you were sure you liked it thus far.

You were Executive Assistant to the CEO of Cavill Industries. a company he started with his brothers years ago and had grown to be a world wide force. Henry Cavill may not have been the eldest brother but he certainly was the most determined and invested of the 5 and more so than any man you had met. This was why they made him the CEO.

You also thought that had something to do with the fact that he honestly was the best looking brother out of all of them.

The face of the company.

He had to stand out in a crowd, oh and Henry Cavill certainly did.

You could admit to no one but yourself that you had found him extremely attractive during your third and final interview where you finally got to meet him. If he wasn’t your boss, he would be exactly the type of guy you went for in terms of looks. Tall, dark curly hair, a jawline that could cut glass, dazzling smile and sharp blue eyes that seemed to pinpoint everything

Including any mistakes you made.

He had made adjusting to this new job hard for you.

Pointing out every mistake, forcing you to redo whole reports that people who got paid a lot more than you should have been doing

But nooooo

He ‘trusted ‘ a.k.a could hover over you while you fixed it.’ causing more late nights and overtime than you cared to think about.

Forget a social life, everything had to be about him.

You had to be everything.

In your job interview nobody had mentioned you would be basically in charge of his life.

Dry Cleaning, arranging his groceries to be delivered, you were even his dog walker on the days he brought his cute Akita Kal-El to the office.

Yea that was totally fun in the heels he forced you into everyday.

You had tried wearing respectable flats after your first week with sore feet and he vetoed that almost immediately.

Saying it wasn’t “seemly“ and that you were the assistant to the CEO and you should dress like it. Needless to say half of the time you wanted to slap him. The other time you were ridiculously turned on. I mean despite being an ass sometimes he played right into your masochistic streak. The way he spoke to you, wasn’t nasty but it had a very direct way that left no room for arguing or confusion. Just like with the heels. You normally would have argued your point, maybe even seen if he would come to some sort of compromise but you didn’t with him. You just kept the flats in your car and a pair under your desk for when you were sitting at your desk and for the days he was out of office.

That sort of sneaky was not like you at all. You just preferred to pull off the band-aid so to speak, but Mr. Cavill was not for any of that.

All you said to him when the response he wanted was obvious was a yes sir or no sir.

You made his coffee just as he liked two cubes of sugar, and a splash of cream. He always would like three extra cubes of sugar on the side, adding the extras depending on how his day had been going. The more sugar added the better his day. You walk as smooth as you can to his office, the large dark door. You don’t bother to knock, sliding open the door to his office, begging your heels not to catch on the floor. You sit his coffee on the desk, to his right, and far enough from his hand that he doesn’t accidentally knock it over.

You smooth out your black mid length dress, and try not to fidget with your red belt that gives a retro theme to the look, and you even had a red purse and red blazer to wear with it (which you had ditched mid-morning). You slip back out the door when he doesn’t look at you. You pick up the tablet you use to keep track of everything on a mobile basis. You pull up his calendar and head back into the large office.

The office itself had never intimidated you despite the large solid oak desk in the middle of the room. It felt open because of the floor to ceiling windows that had automatic curtains that came down on command. You actually loved his office despite the fact that you didn't spend a lot of time in it. You re-enter his office, and stand in front of the desk looking down at the calendar.

“Okay before the day ends I would like to go over your schedule for the weekend.”

He finally looked up at you, his blue eyes giving direct contact, that you couldn’t hold and went back to the glowing tablet, where the sun was starting to set outside.

“You have a dinner meeting tonight which starts at 6:30pm; a 30 minute commute time which means you need to be out of here in the next 45 minutes, if you would like to arrive with your 15 minute grace period as normal.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, then takes off the reading glasses off his face and tosses them on the desk.

“Continue.”

“ Not too many things on the agenda for this weekend except for family brunch on Sunday. Your mother requests you arrive on time this time.”

You regulate a smirk to the side of your mouth.

“I’ve arranged for a bouquet of flowers to be delivered to your house by 9am for you to take over there to her.”

“I don’t suppose I have any missed messages from today?”

You look at him confused.

“Ummm....no. Were you expecting a call?”

He sighs and rubs the temples of his head, clearly upset something.

“No...yes...don’t worry about it. You’ve already arranged for a car for me?”

Yep, he was upset and he was not about to share it with you. You didn’t press him, only prayed it didn’t result in a hell of a clean-up for you later. You had been the bad guy with no less than 4 woman, all of them glaring and spiting nasty vitriol at you when you wouldn’t give them access to Henry. You had seen them all come and go.

“Yes.”

He looks you over, getting to his feet, walking over to the door you knew to be an en-suite bathroom and keeping his extra changes of clothes.

“ Do you have any plans for tonight?”

He asks you suddenly and puts you on the spot. You don’t even have a lie to cover up how pitiful your life was, but you had to try. He didn’t need to know you don’t have anything planned tonight but a glass of wine and catching up on your TV shows you missed for all the overtime you’ve been working.

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

He asks almost immediately as if knowing you were lying. You had to try and get out of some crazy overtime he was known for. You didn’t want another late night in the office.

“Ummm...”

As noted earlier you didn’t think well on the spot. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“You know I don’t appreciate liars Y/N. Anyhow if you are done lying to me, the meeting for tonight requires a...feminine touch.”

“Feminine touch?”

You echo. He goes into the closet and you can hear him changing. You try not to think about him behind the wall.

“Yes. The people I am meeting with require a bit of finesse. The negotiations always go better when we bring our women to the meetings.”

“Soo... would you like me to call someone for you. I can have a dress sent over in their size to smooth the deal over.”

He laughs at you.

“No. Grab your things and call the car service to get here in 10 minutes.”

“ What stop the press? Are you putting me out of the office before you for once?”

You quip at him. He comes from around the corner his attire changed into a black button down shirt, left with the top few unbuttoned. He adjusts the sleeves and looks up with you.

“No you are going with me Y/N and we must hurry, you are going to require another dress.”

“But...”

“No buts. I need you and you are wasting time.”

He picks up a black suit jacket, his cologne hitting you with an umpf he walks by you to get to the car...

*********

The dinner had gone great from what you could tell. You saw a whole other side of Henry. One that was only observed under the rarest of occasions.

At least for you.

Overall you weren’t asked for much, Henry had bought you another black dress only this one was a bit more leggy than you were used to around such important people. Its spaghetti strapped and sweetheart neckline, offering way more cleavage than you would ever consider wearing around him, but Henry had literally come in with you, pulling it from the rack along with a few other choices and this was the tamest all the options he left you. You damn near had a panic attack in the dressing room. The women in the boutique had fixed your hair and makeup in the little amount of time you had, once again at Henry’s behest. You hadn’t be so pulled together since... well you couldn’t remember....

Henry had even been nice to you all evening, but you knew it was all an act, even if your body did respond to the compliments and lingering looks, the smile he would shoot you, he had even let his hands skim across your lower back.

You did your best not to read into anything. Had even gone along with the little game he was playing, being over sweet, playing with the curls on the nape of his neck, your hands lingering on his arms. Enough to suggest without being outwardly desperate and trashy. You were ever the smiling damsel to his associates, laughing at the jokes, ignoring the sexist comments about your dress or the ‘arm candy’ they referred to you as, despite it pissing you off.

You stayed to yourself most for the ride back to the office, and he stays quiet as well. Only then once the car parks do you realize in your haste earlier you left your keys upstairs. He insists he needs to come up as well to grab some files from his desk. You offer to bring them back down but he insists. You scurry to your desk, not finding them in the drawer where you usually kept your purse.

You don’t see them. You panic and look for them intensely.

Oh you hoped you didn’t leave them at the boutique where you changed dresses.

“Y/N. Could you come in here please? I would like to discuss something with you before you leave.”

He calls to you, the voice losing the soft tone he had with you all night, this only serves to make your blood run cold. Have you done something wrong? Said the wrong thing to the wrong person and cost him millions of dollars? You needed your job, and hoped pretty badly that this wasn’t the end of it.

You honestly couldn’t tell if you missed it or not. You disregard the thoughts you are having and push them back in your mind, offering to sort them out later. Preferably with alcohol nearby. You look into his office and see that he is standing behind his desk. Once you come in, thinking he needed something from you.

“Close the door.”

You close the door behind you, the lights on a dim shade, enough for you to see but not enough to over power your eyes.

“Did you need anything from me, because it’s late and I should be heading home...”

He surprises you by cutting you off in a tone that was even softer than any other time he had used with you before.

“I just wanted to say thank you for accompanying me tonight y/n.”

“You are Welcome. I’m just going to go...”

You smile and turn to leave but his voice stops you with a sharp tone that makes you freeze.

“Did I say you could leave?”

You feel your face get hot and you turn back around to face him. The lighting only showcasing the angles of his face, making you ever more nervous.

“No but Sir it's 12am...”

“I know what time it is. You are so stubborn all the time. Can’t even take a simple compliment.”

“I thought you were done.”

You shrug, and immediately regret being so nonchalant with him., his gaze intense.

“I wasn’t. Now before you interrupted me, I was saying thank you not only because you came with me but for playing your role so effortlessly. I didn’t expect you to be so ...reciprocating to me.”

“I figured that would be best. How would it appear if you showed up with a staff member we rather than a significant other like the other at the table.”

“Well your quick and astute observation saved me tonight.”

“All in a day's work. Now if I can just get out of these heels tonight and maybe into a pedicure tomorrow I will have made this all worth while.”

He surprises you by coming from behind the desk where he had been standing, coming to stand in front of you.

And you cursed yourself because it was back again.

The arousal you fought with every lingering look and touch he gave you tonight. How honeyed his words were with you, combined with the animalistic power you knew was just boiling under the surface.

“I have had many secretaries before and none of them take your position as seriously as you do. You put a lot of effort into your job and does not go unnoticed.”

Having him so close was unnerving. Especially when you had his direct attention. You can’t hold eye contact and look down at the floor. Henry touches your chin, his fingers tilt your chin up and you lock eyes. It wasn’t the first time you noticed the space of brown in his left eye, but the first time you were close enough to appreciate it.

You feel your pulse quickening.

“I don’t think I told you how beautiful you look tonight.”

He blinks slowly and you don’t breathe at all as his lips move toward your own. He is seconds away from kissing you, tension heavy in the room.

“Wait....Henry...I just...I Can’t go there.”

You say it out loud and it’s like someone let the air out of your balloon. He lets your face go and looks at you confused, for the first time you see just Henry. Not your boss, not the CEO who always had to be ‘on’ and in charge, you just saw Henry. His face was open and unguarded.

“It’s not that I don’t want you. It’s just you are my boss...”

Henry moves suddenly, and yet simultaneously time slows as he crashes his lips onto yours. The odd duality of soft, yet firm, calming yet passionate overtakes your mind and short circuits you. His hands are holding the side of your face on one side and behind your neck. His kiss steals what little breath you had away. You almost forget why this would have been such a bad idea but he pulls away.

“Darling, Didn’t anyone tell you? The boss makes the rules...”

He resumes kissing you and you offer little in the way of resistance as he picks you up, in fact you lock your legs around his waist and he deposits you on top of his desk. Everything you had been feeling for him was bubbling up in that moment. You were caught in being wanted to be treated like silk and wanting to toss him down and take exactly what you wanted in no uncertain terms of hatefucking him for all the jackass behavior he had exhibited since you started 6 months ago.

You slide his jacket off his broad shoulders, tossing it to the room, igniting the soft thud it makes when the expensive thing lands in a heap on the floor. He pulls your hips toward the edge of the desk and his large hands are hot as they slide up your skirt over trembling thighs and his lips move to your neck. He finds the sensitive spots there quicker than anyone ever had while also moving his fingers to play with your clit through the lining of the black lace panties you were wearing.

Your breath hitches in your throat and Henry grins against your lips, letting you take a second before he kisses you again. His fingers dance around before latching to the hemline and yanking them with enough force that they are torn from your body. Your hips sting from the pull, but you are more than turned on. You fumble with the buttons on his shirt, and don’t look at the skin revealed, but he doesn’t let you take it off him and instead pushes one of his fingers inside of you, you lewdly moan, and grasp his biceps quickly, having been taken off guard. It wasn’t that you weren’t wet, because you were plenty wet, your now ruined panties had been testament to that, but you had expected more of a playful teasing, but as one of your last coherent thoughts, you knew this man never wasted time.

He was a do-er...

And right now he was doing you. The amount of focus and precision he took in his work, pouring over contracts, logs, inventory and the like, he was putting in on you. As his finger moves in and out he is staring at you with such intensity you think you might explode.

“You are dripping baby girl. Melting right into the palm of my hand to be exact.”

He removes the finger that had been inside of you, raising it to his lips, tasting you from it, and you shudder. He kisses you again, you closing your eyes, then you hear in his deep tone like melted chocolate, luxurious to your ears,

“Open your eyes and suck them.”

He held two of his fingers and you opened your mouth. He wanted to hold your gaze.

“Get them nice and wet for me.”

You suck on them, imaging the girth that had been teasing you for months in his sacks, was what was actually in your mouth. You had wanted so badly to taste him and feel him you reach down, palming his obvious erection and you hear him growl. It was your turn to smirk, and as soon as he felt that smirk, he pulled his two fingers from your mouth and thrusts them into you.

You whimper and the one hand you left on his bicep clenched in, digging into his skin. His fingers glide in and out almost painfully slow. You need faster.You try to move your hips to make him move but he chuckles.

“That won’t work y/n. We do this at my pace. Be still or I will stop.”

He didn’t go any faster, his movements deliberately slow. You could tell he was getting a kick out this, and you whine again.

“Beg kitten.”

He whispers in your ear, his thumb teasing your clit again.

“Please.”

He moves a little faster.

“Come on love. You can do better than that.” Teasing.

“Please Henry...”

He slaps your thigh with a sharp tap and it sends the zing of arousal.

“That's not what you call me. Try again.”

While your brain is shorting out, you fumble on what he wants from you.

“I..i don’t know sir...”

He rewards you by speeding up more. Your torso drops backwards, your head follows as you rest back on your elbows, and legs move wider, making your dress bunch up around your hips.

“There you go. There’s what I was looking for. Now beg me to make you come.”

You worry your bottom lip, ignoring how your chest heaves, pulling against the black fabric of the dress.

“Fuck! Please sir please let me cum.”

“That’s more like it. Begging me like the dirty little slut you are.”

He speeds up, his fingers curling inside, tapping that spongy space that made your eyes cross and your vision blur. You didn’t think you would like being called a ‘little slut’ but it was more of a turn on than you had ever thought it would be.

“Sir let me cum please let me cum.”

His dexterous fingers speed up, his thumb rubbing your clit and you were glad no one else was in the office as your moans echo throughout the room.

“You want to be my good girl hmmm?”

You nod furiously, the edge of your orgasm coming up rapidly, as your walls begin their tell-tell sign of fluttering.

“Good girls wait until they have permission. You hold it.”

It was damn near impossible, but you try to focus on anything but how good his fingers feel. He pulls your body back up from the desk with his hand gripping behind your neck. His lips crash on your again, he lingers around your lips you breathe heavily against his lips.

“I’ll be your good girl!”

You yell.

“Good. Cum then come for me.”

It’s like the world goes silent and all you can focus on is his fingers as your orgasm pulls you under. It’s an out of body experience where you could hear your moans and groans of Henry’s name, where you were literally shaking, but you could bring yourself down. Destroyed, Henry is whispering praises in your ear. Calling you his and how good you were for him. It doesn’t take long to come back down, but when you do you feel wrung out, and as Henry pulls away, you notice the sheen of fine layered sweat on his forehead. You feel self conscious as he stares down at you, and without the haze of lust in your eyes it settles in you that your boss just gave you one of the best orgasms of your life and hadn’t even taken off his pants.

Pants that were currently begging you to be taken off. He begins to chuckle and you realize you’ve been staring at his cock outline, and he was laughing at you. He unbuttons his pants, and finally takes off his shirt the rest of the way, finally revealing the god sculpted body that he clearly worked for.

The look on his face says he is going to ruin you and you are going to like it.

Only then, as he begins to work on the zipper to your dress, do you look to your left on the desk and see your keys sitting there...

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

A/n: Hope that was what you were looking for @thiccgeralt Hope this met your expectations and thank you!

I am thinking of coming back to this, but honestly I am waiting until @laketaj24 finishes her CEO! fic The Rules, because its so freaking wonderful and I don’t want to ruin anything by stealing any thunder with a CEO fic OR Ficlet I would plan on doing. BTW if you haven’t read The Rules then please do yourself a favor a go over to her page and check out all of her work. You will not regret a second of it....

However I am tossing this out to see if there would be any interest in a continuation of this fic. Let me know and as always thank you for reading, re-blogging, and liking!

Henry Cavill Taglist: (OPEN! Let me know if this is something you want on!

@msblkfire84 @magdelen69

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader

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katiesfics · 4 years

Text

Meet Ugly #18

Alright, so I’ve never written a fic before...but my first one was over 3000 words. So I’m sharing it here, and possibly uploading to ao3? Still tbd lol, we’ll see how I feel about it. Anyways, if you’re interested, it’s under the cut.

Sighing, Stiles checked his watch again. It had been almost 30 minutes since Matt said he was going to go grab them drinks, and he still wasn’t back yet. Not surprising, but still annoying.

Stiles’ suit collar was getting itchy, his feet hurt in the stiff dress shoes Matt made him wear, and he was sitting alone at their table, watching all of Matt’s coworkers mingle and chat around him. He ran a hand through his hair and looked around to see if he could spot him, but his cursory glance showed him Matt wasn’t even in the room anymore.

He hadn’t really wanted to come tonight - Matt subtly refused to introduce him to any of his coworkers, so he always ended up alone once Matt decided networking was more important than keeping him company. And sure, Stiles knew that these things were important networking nights, particularly for Matt, but if the priority was meeting other people and talking shop all night, why did Stiles need to be there? He’d played the supportive boyfriend/partner/whatever to Matt for all of these events, but Matt never even tried to make sure Stiles felt included. It was always, “Oh I see the project manager of such-and-such department, I’m going to go talk to them, you’ll be fine, right?”

Stiles had tried to talk to him about it once, after he noticed a pattern forming, but it had ended up in a blowout fight, the first of many. Matt had yelled at him that he wasn’t supportive enough, that clearly Stiles didn’t care about his career at all. Before Stiles had managed to get a word in, he had even insinuated that Stiles was only there to help boost his image to the board, make it seem like Matt was a family man, put-together. After seeing the look on Stiles’ face after that comment, he had tried to back-pedal and take it back, but Stiles had walked out the door before he could start the lies.

Stiles sighed, thinking about all the subsequent fights they’d had since then. When Stiles had first met Matt, he had been so friendly and confident, and Stiles had been drawn to his persistence and drive for his career. Now he wondered if he’d ever been a priority, or if somewhere along the way his rose-tinted glasses had cleared and he could see Matt as he always was.

Jackson had been urging him to end it for months, saying he could tell Stiles was unhappy, that this was a completely one-sided relationship. The sad thing was, Stiles couldn’t even disagree with him. After they’d moved in together though, he’d felt like he was trapped. If they broke up, he would have to move out, pack his things, find another apartment… It just felt like an impossible task when he was already so tired from having to tread carefully through their daily conversations - or arguments.

Speaking of Jackson, Stiles saw him walking towards him and waved him over. Stiles never tired of seeing Jackson in a suit; as much as Matt seemed to grow even smarmier in a suit, Jackson was practically born into it. He felt his shoulders relax with relief that he wasn’t going to be sitting awkwardly by himself anymore.

“Hey! Where’s fuckboy?” Jackson asked him as he sprawled into the chair next to him and threw an arm around his shoulders.

“Dude,” Stiles murmured quietly, “you could at least try to have a sense of decorum, Mr. I-was-raised-as-a-debutant. I don’t really care when we’re at home, but this place is full of people that work with Matt and could potentially be his boss. I can’t let him hear about you calling him a fuckboy, he already hates you enough as it is.”

Jackson rolled his eyes so hard his head hit the back of the chair. Stiles wondered if it hurt him. “Stiles, I literally couldn’t care less. He is a fuckboy, and I will call it like I see it. Also, you know I thrive off of making his life miserable. I like to think of it as cosmic karma.”

Stiles had to hide a laugh behind his hand. “I don’t think it’s cosmic if it’s coming from you, dude,” he said.

In the back of his mind, he couldn’t quite believe that Jackson actually worked for the same company as Matt. He’d met Matt through one of Jackson’s company happy hours, which was something that Jackson was consistently bemoaning, saying that he had led Stiles down this path of misery. Jackson was just as career-driven as Matt, but after his power-hungry high school days - where Stiles was on the receiving end of one particularly bad spiral - he had taken a step back and realized how much he was hurting the people around him, especially his friends. Whenever Stiles saw Jackson at these events, he always made a point to stop and sit with him and introduce him to the people who came up to say hello.

“Oh! Look, there’s someone I want you to meet. I think you two will get along swimmingly,” Jackson said with a smirk and a sideways look at him. Stiles got a little nervous at that look, knowing that it meant he was once again trying to show Stiles that he had better options than Matt. It never went well.

Jackson got up and walked over to a tall, dark-haired man as he came from around a corner and pulled him towards their table. When he saw him, Stiles had to admit to himself that this man was a pretty spectacular-looking human being. His suit was almost as impeccable as Jackson’s (which was saying something), and his surprised look disappeared when he realized Jackson was the one dragging him across the room.

“Stiles, I’d like you to meet Derek. He’s new on my team, and he could really use another friend,” Jackson said, bringing him right up in front of Stiles. “Derek, I’m glad you could make it tonight! I’m going to go grab us all some drinks, and I’ll let you two get acquainted.” Jackson turned to walk away, giving Stiles a wink over his shoulder as he did so.

Stiles wanted to facepalm at the blatant attempt of his best friend, and when he looked up, Derek looked just as uncomfortable. He gave him a small smile as he stood up and said, “I apologize about Jackson. I swear he does have social skills, he just likes to conveniently forget them in order to spite me.”

Derek gave him a brief smile and seemed to shake himself. “I’m sorry, he kind of caught me off guard. It is nice to meet you though, do you work here?”

Stiles' gaze darted around the room again. “Um, no, actually my boyfriend does, but I think he’s out networking with people. He’ll probably be back soon.”

When Stiles looked up, Derek seemed to have a concerned look on his face, but it soon was replaced with a smile, and he said, “Well, I’m glad you’re here anyway. Jackson has been great at introducing me to people, since I’m not so good at putting myself out there.” He smiled bashfully, and Stiles was struck just then by how cute he was. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking like that, but he had eyes, alright? And Derek was hot, and soft-spoken, and his lips were pink and a little swollen-looking, aaaaand Stiles needed to think about something else real fast.

Suddenly, he didn’t have to, when an arm abruptly grabbed him around the waist and pulled him into the person behind him. Before Stiles could turn around, he heard Matt say, “Stiles, who’s your friend here?”

He looked over his shoulder and saw Matt giving Derek a weirdly predatory smirk. When Matt saw him turn his head, the look went away so quickly Stiles couldn’t really be sure he’d seen it in the first place, and he shook it off. Matt smiled at Stiles and leaned down to kiss his neck. It made Stiles feel slightly uncomfortable, with Derek standing right in front of them, especially after Derek had just told him that he was shy.

Stiles looked up to introduce Derek to Matt, and frowned when he realized Derek looked horrified. It would be really disappointing if this new guy was homophobic, and he tried to reason with himself that there was no way Jackson would knowingly be friends with someone like that.

“Matt, this is Derek, Jackson’s new coworker. Derek, this is Matt, my boyfriend.” As he said it, he felt Matt’s smile grow, and his grip around his waist tighten, pulling him in closer to Matt. Stiles was confused, because Matt was never really the jealous type, so the extreme PDA was unusual.

Derek meanwhile was still looking like someone had just told him his dog had died. “Derek, are you - ” but he didn’t get to finish before one of Matt’s business friends came up and interrupted him.

“Matt! I’ve been looking for you everywhere, I’ve got a proposal that I wanted to go over with you and Bill, why don’t you come join us?” he said. Matt immediately agreed and, letting go of Stiles, gave him a quick smirk that seemed to intensify when he glanced at Derek, before turning around and following the other man into the middle of the room.

Stiles stared after him for a minute, trying to decipher that look, before he turned to try and check in with Derek again. Before he could fully turn back around, however, he was abruptly dragged off towards the corner of the room. Taken by surprise, he didn’t try to fight it, and Derek pulled him around the corner and spun to face him as soon as they were out of sight of the rest of the party. He had a haunted look in his eyes, and his mouth opened as if he was about to say something, but nothing came out.

“...Derek?” Stiles asked, hesitantly reaching out a hand towards him. Derek flinched away from the contact, and Stiles immediately pulled his hand back. Now he was worried. “Derek? Are you okay? Did I say something? Did something happen? I’m gonna need you to talk to me buddy, because clearly something’s wrong, and I’m not sure how to help you.”

Jesus, he’d literally met this guy like 20 minutes ago, how was he supposed to help him when he was clearly panicking about something? Where was fucking Jackson when he needed him?

“I - ” Derek started to say, but he stopped. His shoulders hunched, but then he clearly came to a decision and squared them. “I just made out with your boyfriend!” he blurted out, immediately shrinking back in on himself as soon as the words came out.

Stiles froze. Well, that was unexpected. He opened his mouth to say something, but his mind blanked. “Uh, what?”

His response seemed to jar Derek out of his panicked stare. “I’m so sorry! He came onto me and he was hot and I didn’t know he had a partner, I mean how could I he didn’t say anything and I’d never met him before, but that’s not an excuse, but then he was pushing me into a corner and kissing me and I didn’t know, and it was just a kiss and he came on so strong, I’m sorry, and I kind of felt dirty about it afterwards but now I feel disgusting how could I have done that to you, I’m so sorry - ”

Stiles could tell he was spiralling into a serious panic, and had to interrupt him before the guy had a full-blown breakdown in the middle of this company party. “Dude, dude, slow down. It’s okay. I mean, I guess it’s not okay, but it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known! I’m not upset with you, alright? But I need you to breathe.”

He grabbed Derek’s shoulders and watched him as he spoke, making sure he really heard him. He hadn’t even really processed what he’d said, but he couldn’t let Derek continue thinking this was his fault. He started taking deep breaths, watching as Derek’s heaving chest and shaky breaths slowly began to match them. Finally, after about a minute, he looked calm enough to keep going.

Stiles tilted his head down to make eye contact with him. “Derek, look at me. I’m going to be really honest here...Matt’s a fucking asshole.” Derek gaped at him. “I mean it. Truthfully, at this point, this doesn’t even surprise me.”

Stiles sighed as he took one of his hands off of Derek’s shoulder to run it through his hair, subtly tugging on it to ground himself. He looked down. “We’ve been...having issues.” Stiles huffed a laugh. “Okay, more than just issues. It feels like a lot of this relationship has been just going through the motions for the past...I don’t know, five months? Jackson has been begging me to end it with him for even longer than that, because he can tell I’ve been miserable, but I’ve been putting it off because we’ve been together for so long, you know?” He sighs again, dropping his head into his hands.

Derek hesitantly reaches out and grabs Stiles’ hand in his own. “I’m so sorry. I...don’t really know what you’re going through, but I’m sorry that I caused any of this.”

Stiles looked up at him and gave him a half smile. “Yeah, I know, buddy. But…” At this, his half smile turned into a full smirk. Derek almost took a step back. “How do you feel about helping me break up with him? Then I can have a clean break and you can get back at him for using you like that.”

Derek stared at him for a moment, before his lips slowly curved up into a smirk of his own. “What did you have in mind?”

Matt was talking with his current manager when they found him. Stiles strode ahead and grabbed his shoulder, yanking him around to face him.

“Hey!” Matt shouted in surprise, and then stopped when he saw the look on Stiles’ face.

“Hey there, cheater.”

“Wha- ” Matt’s eyes widened in shock, and then he seemed to pale when he looked over Stiles’ shoulder and saw Derek standing behind him with his arms crossed over his chest. “Stiles, wait, I can - ”

“You know, it didn’t have to be this way.” Stiles crossed his arms and paused for a second. “If you were unhappy, you could have just ended it. But no, what did you do?” As he said this, he uncrossed his arms again and seemed to bolster himself. “You made out with someone at a business party, that you forced me to come to! I don’t even know why I’m here!”

“Stiles - ” Matt hissed.

“You don’t seem to care about me supporting you unless it’s from a chair in the corner,” Stiles continued hotly. “And you certainly didn’t seem to care about anything except your own dick when you made out with a stranger while you left me there! Nothing you could say right now could make this better, or even close to alright,” he said, as Matt opened his mouth again to try to speak.

Stiles ripped his arm out of reach as Matt tried to grab him, clearly hoping to move this to a more private location. “Matt, I really gave you so many chances. I defended you when my friends told me you were being an asshole.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jackson standing frozen with their drinks in his hands. “We’re done. You couldn't have made that clearer than when you made out with someone while I was sitting around the corner from you. We’re done. We’ve been done for a while, but now you can fuck off and watch me get the fuck over you, dickwad.”

And with that, Stiles turned around and launched himself at Derek. Derek caught him, and he didn’t seem surprised in the least when Stiles immediately started kissing him furiously. He was pissed the fuck off, and he wanted Matt to know how it felt.

As Derek deepened the kiss though, Stiles’ anger started to drain away, as did the rest of the room. His focus seemed to hone in on the way that Derek’s lips felt against his, and the way their bodies pressed up against each other. His arms tightened around Derek’s neck, and he thread his fingers into his hair, relishing in the way Derek’s arms tightened around his waist and lifted him off the ground.

He had no idea how long they’d been kissing, when Stiles heard a slight cough from beside him. He slowly released his hold on Derek’s hair, blinking his eyes open as he separated from him, seeing Derek’s stunned look gazing back at him. He looked over his right shoulder and saw Jackson standing there with their drinks in hand, smirk firmly in place.

“I do think you’ve made your point, dumbass,” he said, jerking his head over his shoulder towards Matt, who was standing there, dumbfounded.

Stiles watched as the coworkers that had been part of the unofficial meeting slowly realized what had happened, eyes bouncing from Matt to Stiles and back again. Some of them were still in shock, but some of them had turned their gaze to Matt, looking angry on his behalf. Matt’s attention was quickly averted from them, trying to reassure his coworkers and smooth over any ruffled feathers.

“I always knew you had it in you,” Jackson said. “I just never expected it to be this public. Bravo, Stiles, but I think I’ll just take these drinks and go find someone else to appreciate them, while you two find somewhere else to be.” He winked at the two of them before turning around and walking away.

Stiles realized he was still holding onto Derek and quickly began trying to unravel himself. Derek’s arms tensed around him, as if trying to keep him there, and then his hands moved to his hips.

“Um…” Stiles said, not making eye contact. “Thank you for helping me?”

He felt Derek’s body start shaking, and looked up sharply, thinking it was another panic attack. When he looked into Derek’s face though, he realized he was laughing silently.

“Come on, I think we should at least get out of the middle of the floor,” Derek said with a smile. He felt Derek grab his hand and start walking towards the exit.

As they emerged into the entryway, Stiles paused, causing Derek to look back at him. “Look...thank you so much for everything back there, and thank you for being a nice enough guy to tell me that my boyfriend - ex-boyfriend? - was cheating on me, but um, you don’t have to - I mean, you can - just, ugh, you can go back if you want!”

Derek’s eyebrows raised and he gave him a kind of disbelieving look. “Stiles, I just made out with you in front of your boyfriend to get back at him for being a douche. If you think I’m going back into that room, you’re insane.”

Stiles flushed and opened his mouth to apologize, but Derek cut him off before he could get a sound out. “If that kiss was anything for you like it was for me, I’d much rather get out of here and grab dinner with you, if...you’re up for that?” He gave him a hopeful, but cautious, smile.

Stiles inhaled sharply and met his eyes. “If I’m - Of course I am! I mean, anything to delay having to deal with the fallout I just left behind in that room...I could really use some curly fries,” he declared, as he grabbed Derek’s hand and dragged him towards the doorway.

Derek just laughed, squeezing Stiles’ hand in return before releasing it and throwing his arm around his shoulder, leading him out into the evening.

#sterek #my fic #meet ugly #office au #kind of?#also who needs an ending #I have NO IDEA how to end a fic #also I barely proofread this so if it's awful don't tell me LOL #sterek fic

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whereisten · 5 years

Text

Gentle Monsters

Summary: After a night of running from a wild animal, you meet Johnny, the owner of the conservatory greenhouse you accidentally broke into. Johnny is kind and sweet—a little too sweet.

Genre and Warnings: angst, fluff, a little horror, like two curse words.

Word count: 3.4K

[2:36 A.M]

You ran fast, brushing past the empty and dark stores beside you. You hoped you could find someone, anyone that would be out here on these lonely streets at this time. Anyone that could confirm what you saw was real. The cold night air sent sharp pains through your lungs as you breathed heavily. You tried to focus on what was in front of you, not what was chasing you.

The full moon shined brightly above you, nearly drowning out the street lamps that dimly lit the sidewalks.

Everything happened so fast. One moment you were walking home from the bar you worked at, the next second you felt the strange presence of something—otherworldly. You couldn’t explain it. It’s figure was huge, steps heavy, stench foul. It was by itself, but it growled multiple voices.

You were speed-walking as it followed every turn you took; trying not to freak yourself out because surely, there was a reasonable explanation. You wanted to turn and head back to the bar where your coworkers were still cleaning things up, but you couldn’t.

You swore you could feel it’s hot breath on the back of your neck before you bolted. You glanced back to see an extremely tall figure, maybe 8-feet tall, fully covered in dark hair with glowing red eyes and sharp teeth. It looked like a wolf, but stooped on its hind legs.

A werewolf? Impossible, this isn’t fucking Twilight, they don’t exist.

You thought to yourself, and yet, there it was, increasing its speed as it followed you.

You knew you were tired, but even your sleep deprived brain couldn’t have conjured up a visual so realistic.

You don’t know how long you ran for, but you were finally able to distance yourself from it. You still felt you had to keep going. You silently thanked your father for forcing you to join the track-and-field team in high school.

The city streets ended and soon you were running in a large field of grass. You didn’t hear it following you anymore. You turned around and saw nothing but the bleak streetlights that were so far away now. You slowed your pace and resumed walking speed. You started to cry. “What the fuck” you whispered to yourself, doubling over to catch your breath.

You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t head back in the direction of your apartment. What if it would follow you home? Your mind ran wild with thoughts of what to do. There was no one to turn to, no one would be in these fields at this time, and there were no houses in sight.

You stopped walking. “Where’s my phone?” You fumbled around in your bag and patted all your pockets, no phone. It must have fell out of your back pocket when you were running. “Shit.”

You looked up and put your hands on the back of your head. You were so tired, you just wanted to go home and sleep, but tonight wasn’t like any other night and now you had no phone. There was no one to help you. You were alone.

That’s when you saw it. The shiny glasshouse in front you glistened in the moonlight, it was stunning, you had never seen anything like it before. You walked towards it, hoping that it would be open, maybe you could crash there for the night. The “thing” wouldn’t be able to see your body amongst all the plants and trees within the greenhouse.

Johnny’s Conservatory Greenhouse

A sign read out from above in large cursive writing.

“Johnny..I’m sorry but I’m gonna need this for tonight.” You whispered to yourself as you tried to pull the door open. The lock was flimsy and broke once you pulled with little force. Perhaps it was only there to deter people.

You closed the door behind you and quietly walked in. You looked around. It was beautiful, even in the dark. The plants and vines were green and lively, a great contrast to the dark and polluted streets you lived and worked in. You never made your way to the outskirts where some nature was still being preserved. The owner clearly took care of it.

It was quiet, only the sound of your own breathing and a small waterfall in the distance filled the air.

You continued to walk and eventually found a bench in the center, only a few feet away from the waterfall. You plopped yourself down and sighed. “Finally.”

You placed your bag down beside you and laid down.

I’ll just stay here for a few hours, it’ll be safer to go home during the day.

You thought to yourself, in hopes that you’d find your phone in the daytime.

Your mind still ran wild, you were trying to find an explanation for what happened, an explanation for what that thing could possibly be. It didn’t make sense and you were shaking, unable to calm yourself. You turned over on your side and felt a tear run down, you were so confused and scared.

You rested your head on your folded arms and slowly drifted off into sleep, comforted by the sounds of the waterfall.

You were too deep in sleep to feel a soft blanket cover you. It was 5:30 A.M now, the full moon was gone and the sun started to rise. He watched you as you slept quietly, your hair and skin looked so soft, your lips were in a cute, pouty shape, the long lashes that sprung out from your eyes grazed your round cheeks. But your face was drained. You were like a scared child, unable to find comfort in their surroundings. He wanted to hug you and make you feel like you were safe, that you would be okay now in his conservatory.

The glare from the sun and glass above you woke you up. It shined down on you, allowing heat to finally touch your skin. You could barely open your eyes, everything was so bright. You sat up and rubbed your eyes. You looked around you and felt all the memories come back once you felt the cold metal of the bench you were on.

Your heart started to race as you remembered being chased by that animal. You panted, looking around you to find a soft brown blanket that had covered your body. With a confused expression, you lifted the blanket off of your body.

“Where did you come from?” You quietly asked.

Then, a voice startled you.

“I thought you might be cold in here” a male voice from behind you cut in.

You sprung up from the bench and turned to see a tall man in a brown sweater and black jeans. His brown hair covered his forehead and his face was soft. He gave you a small smile. He held two coffee mugs in his large hands.

“I-I’m so sorry—“ you started and turned to gather your things.

“No, no worries. This place..loves to see new people” he gave a light chuckle before walking over and handing you one of the mugs he held.

You looked up at him, he was so welcoming and warm. “Are you J-?” You started.

“Johnny? Yes, since 1995” he laughed. “Here, it looks like you’ve had a rough night.”

He stood right across from you now.

You looked up at him and smiled.

“I’m-I shouldn’t have crashed here..it’s just..there was something—actually, never mind. I’m sorry” you gave an awkward smile and took the mug, looking into it and hesitantly raising it to your nose.

The black liquid gave off the familiar smell of coffee.

“it’s just medium roast coffee” he laughed.

“Oh, thank you” you smiled and raised it to your lips. You shouldn’t have taken a drink from a stranger, but he was so warm and nice, it was just coffee and nothing more. And he wasn’t upset with you for crashing his amazing conservatory and staying there like it was a motel.

“What time is it?” You asked as you rubbed your temple.

“It’s 7 o’ clock” he answered quietly.

“Would you like to sit with me? I’d love to know how someone like you ended up here in the middle of the night” He asked, motioning towards the back of the conservatory where tables and chairs were set.

“I don’t open this place to the public until 8, so we have time to sit—and talk if you want to.” His voice was soft and sweet, it lured you in.

How could anyone say no to this soft giant. His brown eyes watched you carefully, glancing from your furrowed eyebrows to the same lips he watched earlier.

You wanted to leave and head back to your place. You wanted to find your phone, but you couldn’t be rude to this man. He wasn’t even upset with you.

The least you could do is explain why you were in his place.

You nodded and watched as he turned to head back to the cafe area.

“This place..your place, it’s beautiful” you said as you sat down on the cushioned chair. He sat down across from you at a small, round table with a colored mosaic of glass on top.

Everything in the conservatory was detailed exquisitely. You wondered how a young man like him could’ve thought of the intricacies of beauty in this place.

“Thank you” he smiled, his eyes squinted and his smiled widened. He was so bright, you were truly surprised by how gorgeous he was as well. His skin was fair and clear, no pores in sight. You hoped you would get the chance to ask about his skincare routine.

“It was my grandmother’s. She took care of it while she raised me. I would run around, knocking into vases and falling into the water as a child. I used to make her so mad” he laughed as he looked at the waterfall behind you.

“She passed away when I turned 20 and I decided to take care of it, and open it to the public.” His eyes drifted down to the table.

“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss” you said. “She raised you well, it’s really amazing..we need more beauty like this in this city” you smiled as you looked up at the green vines that hung above you.

He turned to you, watching as your eyes glanced over the marvelous glass walls of his conservatory. The sunlight brought out the alluring color of your eyes, and the rainbow-colored reflection from the glass shined down on your delicate skin.

You looked at him and caught him staring. You quickly looked down to the coffee to avoid his eyes. A moment of silence rested between you two and you realized you couldn’t avoid the topic much longer.

“I work—at a bar in the city” you started, taking a large gulp.

Johnny leaned forward slightly and nodded when you glanced up at him with worried eyes.

“I was heading home—and someone—some thing started following me” You whispered, trying to hold back tears as the fear you felt just hours ago crept back in.

“It was..big..and fast, it growled and had large fangs..it was like..some kind of monst—” you managed to mutter out with watery eyes as you looked into your coffee cup.

You looked up at Johnny who watched you with concerned eyes.

“I-I’m sorry, forget it, I don’t know what I saw” you shook your head. “I sound ridiculous, I’m sure..I was just seeing things in the dark” you shrugged your shoulders and gave a quiet laugh to cover your panic.

“No need to apologize, I believe you..” Johnny reached out and placed his hand on your trembling one. You looked down at it, appreciating the warmth of his touch.

You gave a small smile and nodded. He believed you, this stranger believed you.

“Thank you.” You nodded.

He drew back and smiled. “Weird things happen here. I have no doubt that you saw something last night” Johnny took a sip and placed his cup down. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“But—there are many..irresponsible and—bored kids out there, maybe they were trying out a new Halloween costume?” He leaned back in his chair and said as he pursed his lips and tilted his head, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

You shuddered a bit, feeling the small hope you gained disappear.

“It wasn’t..like that at all. These kids aren’t 8, 9 feet tall” you motioned with your hands. “I—I can’t explain it.” You looked up at him.

He was silent, observing you. His eyes calmed you down, it was as if he was silently telling you to doubt what you saw. And it was working.

“But maybe you’re right. Just some annoying ass kids” you laughed and shook your head again. Johnny smiled again, and you felt your heart weaken. There was something so kind and tender about him. He was as luminescent and welcoming as his conservatory. He was built and strong, his arms flexed when he put them over his chest, but his touch was gentle.

You laughed. “I’m sure I sound crazy to you.” You panicked as you second guessed yourself, your chest started to rise and fall rapidly, you feared you may have a panic attack at any moment.

Johnny furrowed his brows and shook his head. “No, no it’s understandable. You were tired and it was dark out, who knows what kind of wild things people do in this city.” He stood up and reached out for your hand.

“Come on, lets take a walk, you need some air” he gave a small smile.

You looked up and reached out to take his hand.

You walked around the greenhouse and marveled at the unique kinds of flowers, herbs and mosses you had no idea existed.

“This is called Nepenthes attenboroughii.” Johnny said as he pointed to a deep red plant shaped like a pitcher with a smooth edge. You reached out to touch it while his hand still held your other hand softly.

He tapped your hand gently with his long index finger.

“Don’t.” He quietly commanded. You looked up at him.

“It’s one of the few carnivorous plants left on Earth” he said as he looked down at the beautiful plant. “It eats the rats that slip out from the city and into the fields so they don’t destroy the herbs.”

“Really?” Your eyes widened, shocked that such a dangerous but rare plant would be in these walls.

Johnny nodded.

“It’s gentle and soft on the outside, it appears to be harmless, but it’s really a monster” Johnny shifted his gaze from the plant to you as his tone lowered. Something about the way he looked at you after he said that statement sent shivers down your spine.

He flashed you a quick smile as if he sensed that you were frightened by the plant.

“Come on, there’s more.”

He led you through the rest of the large greenhouse, never letting go of your hand. You didn’t want him too. You felt safe and content around him. He was caring and paid attention to so much detail. He excitedly explained everything to you and even memorized the Latin names of his plants.

“You’re probably like ‘this guy is so weird, what the hell’ and you’re right” he laughed as he looked at the floor. “These flowers and shrubs..they’re my babies” he gave you a bright smile again, his eyes crinkling as he laughed out.

You smiled. “I don’t think you’re weird at all. I like this, you actually care about something.” You wouldn’t tell him but you secretly loved the way the Latin effortlessly flowed from his mouth in a seductive tone.

You looked to your right to find the plant that looked like big red lips. You’d never seen them in real life before, only through cartoons. “The lip flower!” You said excitedly.

“Ah yes, everyone loves this one, the psychotria elata. It looks like this.” Johnny turned to you and pursed his full lips to mimic the plant. You both bursted out in laughter.

An hour went by quickly as the two of you walked about the glasshouse and bonded over memories. Johnny told you that he rarely went into the city, he hated how gloomy it was. He felt humanity was becoming more superficial and mean, and that the nursery kept him kind and human.

You felt his eyes on you as you reached out to feel the bright, colorful flowers above you.

His eyes watched your mouth as is parted slightly. He knew you were infatuated with the beauty of his flowers.

His eyes drifted down to your exposed neck and collar bone. He had smelled countless flowers before, but none smelled as good as you did. He wanted to touch you, to touch your warm skin, to feel it against his.

Johnny looked at the watch on his wrist. “Oh..it’s almost time.” He said sadly. You guessed that it was almost time for him to open the conservatory to others.

“Does it get pretty busy here?” You asked him.

He nodded and looked down at you with a sad expression. “Busy enough for two workers to always be here. We have to keep the place clean and the plants hydrated. It’s a difficult job, but I love it.”

You nodded and exhaled.

“I just wish—I could show you the rest, there are many more species to see” he gave a small smile, his eyes softened as they looked into yours.

“I want to see the rest also, I’ll be back and I promise not to break in next time.” You both laughed.

“But I should go. My roommates are probably wondering what happened to me last night” you laughed. You finally let go of his hand to pull your bag onto your shoulder. He slowly put his hand to his side, obviously saddened that you let go.

“Well, I have to admit..I’m kinda happy you found—or well, broke into my place..it’s been a while since I’ve seen such a pretty face around here. It’s selfish of me to feel this way, but it’s true, I’m sorry” Johnny laughed, running a hand through his thick hair.

You blushed. “Thank you, I really didn’t think it through..I was so scared”

“I know..and I’m sorry you felt that way” Johnny took a step forward.

His skin glowed under the clear sunlight that poured in through the glass. You would love to have someone like him in your life. He was calming and nice, unlike the city people you dealt with. The way he spoke was attractive to you. He really knew what he was talking about and he touched you gently, unlike any other man.

“I’d love to visit again, maybe we can have lunch or s-something” you stumbled over your words, a bit flustered by his deep brown eyes again.

“I’d love that” he smiled wide coming closer to you and leaning down. He held your chin in his hand, and looked into your eyes carefully. He was intoxicating and his touch sent sparks through your skin.

He was a stranger, but you felt like you’d known him for years. You nodded as he stared at your lips and placed a hand on your waist to pull you you closer to his body. He moved his face downward to yours, but stopped once his soft, plump lips were within centimeters of your own.

He then placed a bright pink flower behind your ear. His thumb softly caressed your ear as he looked into your eyes, not letting them go for a second.

“It was nice to meet you, y/n.” He stopped and let your chin go. His bright smile returned as he pulled away. You exhaled, not realizing that you had been holding your breath.

You wanted to feel his smooth lips on yours so badly, but it was too soon. You smiled and nodded as you gathered your things. “I should get going, I have to find my phone too.”

“That reminds me.” Johnny walked to the back of the conservatory as you waited at the door.

You watched him as he quickly walked up to you, his long legs allowing him to reach you within seconds.

“You dropped this last night” Johnny smirked as he held out a black, rectangular object for you to take.

Your eyes widened when you realized what it was.

You looked up at him with a confused expression.

It was then that you realized that you never did tell him your name.

Your eyes fluttered back down to his outstretched hand as you took your phone from him.

“Wh-“ You started but he interrupted you.

“Stay safe, y/n, I’ll see you again soon” Johnny winked as he opened the door of the conservatory to let you out.

You quickly walked out, daring not to glance behind you as you walked away.

————————————————

a/n: the next full moon occurs on June 17th..be careful out there :)

2K notes · View notes

popatochisssp · 5 years

Text

Make You Mark, 6/10

Series: Undertale, Underfell Relationship(s): UF!Papyrus/Reader Chapter Warnings: Extreme Thirst

AO3 Link

In a world where soulmates exist, monsters and humans have one thing in common: the first time two soulmates touch, a mark randomly appears somewhere–anywhere– on their bodies to represent their match.

It still doesn’t make relationships easier…but maybe it does make them a little more interesting!

When that nasty, nitpicky ladder-climing bitch, Gertrude had gotten you fired, you had been incensed.

It wasn’t a great job, you weren’t heartbroken to be let go, and most of your coworkers you wouldn’t even miss—save one.

BP had been there when you were gathering up your things, not really helping but with a look on his face that so resonated with your innermost feelings of impotent, nihilist disgust at management that it felt like he was helpful, anyway.

“This sucks,” he’d muttered in solidarity, watching you angrily cram a sweater into your bag. “Probably gonna make me do your job instead of hiring somebody else…”

“Sounds right,” you’d agreed. “Such bullshit, I can’t believe they’d fire me over…!”

Feeling the burn of injustice threatening to erupt from your mouth in a stream of very loud cusswords or maybe from your eyes in actual tears, you’d forced yourself to laugh instead and even attempted a joke.

“Ha, I should sue for this… Know any good lawyers?”

You hadn’t expected BP to actually look like he was considering it, or to say at length, “…Well…actually…?”

As it turned out…he did.

Tail twitching, ears flicking nervously, BP told you in a hushed and hurried tone that he knew a real good lawyer—a monster one, of course, but if that wasn’t a problem for you, he might even be able to hook you up.

“He works pretty cheap,” BP said, “all things considered. Likes the tough cases mostly, stacked odds and hard wins… I think he’s into the challenge more than the money—he’s probably bored otherwise, y’know he used to captain the Royal Guard, Underground? When we still had one, anyway. Point is, he’s one scary prick, he’d knock something like this out of the park for you.”

You felt you could hardly be blamed for being a little incredulous.

You eyed the visibly jumpy cat beside you, whispering while pretending to walk you out and looking like he’d jump a foot in the air if he heard a manager speaking too close.

“You can get somebody like that for me?”

BP’s ears flattened, in either offense or embarrassment.

“I…! Listen, I…! His brother owes me a favor, I can…make something happen for you…pr…probably…” He shook his head. “Just…keep an eye on your email, okay? You actually did your job instead of dumping it on me like… I…owe you, or whatever.”

You hadn’t been expecting much at the time.

It was a sweet sentiment by monster standards that he was even willing to try to do something like that for you, and you appreciated it for what it was.

The look on your face was probably hilarious when you actually received an official-looking email asking if you were the human seeking a wrongful termination suit— and asking after your availability to meet in the coming week.

Obviously, being newly unemployed, your availability was fantastic, which is how you ended up here, nicely dressed and sat outside at a nice little sidewalk bistro, waiting for your pro bono consultation regarding your legal recourse per your recent termination.

…Or at least, that was what Captain Papyrus’ email had said.

Since you have so much time to kill these days, it’s no surprise that you’re early. The past fifteen minutes have been spent fiddling with hems and tracing idle circles around the rim of your complimentary glass of water.

Normally, you’d fool around on your phone but you’re waiting for an Important Meeting with a monster you’ve never met and the last thing you want is to get too absorbed in a game and end up making an embarrassing first impression, or miss the guy entirely.

It’s not until ten minutes to the time you’d set that you realize how silly a thought that was.

You don’t see how you could’ve missed a monster like Papyrus.

The skeleton that strides into the bistro is tall and smartly dressed, exuding such a powerful aura of confidence that you swear for a second you can actually, tangibly feel it. His cheekbones are sharp and his fangs are sharper and when the roving red lights in his eye-sockets land squarely on you, you have to hold back an instinctive shiver.

You have to admit, you’re a little mad at BP, right now.

He never told you Papyrus was hot.

You don’t have time to dwell on it, though, because he’s coming over to you and you have to seem like a normal, respectable human—instead of a thirsty one.

You stand to greet him, smiling pleasantly. “Hi! Captain Papyrus, I presume?”

“YOU PRESUME CORRECTLY.”

He asks your name, his voice surprisingly deep and more than a little sexy raspy and you nod. You absently note that he’s not wearing gloves and hasn’t extended his hand to shake, so you don’t offer yours, either.

“THANK YOU FOR BEING PUNCTUAL,” he says curtly. “I HATE HAVING TO WAIT ON PEOPLE. MY SCHEDULE IS TIGHT ENOUGH AS IT IS.”

“I understand,” you agree, wordlessly encouraging him to sit as you do the same. “You’re doing me a big favor, I really appreciate this.”

Is it your imagination, or did Papyrus’ chest puff out a little just there?

“OF COURSE YOU DO,” he says, the hint of a smile playing along his jaw. “NOW, LET’S NOT WASTE TOO MUCH TIME, WE MAY AS WELL GET RIGHT INTO IT. YOU’RE CERTAIN YOU DON’T MIND DISCUSSING HERE?”

You shake your head ‘no.’ It’s a public place, but relatively deserted at this time of day and you’re not concerned that any really sensitive information will be discussed.

“RIGHT THEN.”

Papyrus pulls a hefty stack of papers from his briefcase, carefully carding through them as if to refresh his memory.

“I’VE REVIEWED YOUR CASE,” he tells you, “AND IT’S SOLID. YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY WITHIN YOUR RIGHTS TO PURSUE WRONGFUL TERMINATION AGAINST YOUR FORMER EMPLOYER.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “I…really? I am?”

“YES. ARE YOU SURPRISED?”

“I…a little bit, yes,” you admit. “I didn’t…really think I’d be on the right side of this… ”

You’d been angry, certainly. Indignant, absolutely. Utterly railroaded by months of Gertrude’s petty hair-splitting, definitely.

But you had been in violation of the employee dress code, however technically.

You glance down at your hand, the small bit of commemorative ink you’d gotten there staring up at you.

“My tattoo really isn’t a problem…?”

Papyrus scoffs.

“IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN,” he says, “HAD YOU NOT HAD THE TATTOO FOR MORE THAN A YEAR PRIOR TO YOUR EMPLOYMENT AND WORKED WITHOUT INCIDENT UNTIL…VERY RECENTLY.”

He starts flicking through the papers again, pulling out one you recognize—an email chain you’d sent to him, displaying one of several unpleasant exchanges you’d had with Gertrude.

“YOU DID WELL TO DOCUMENT THESE COMMUNICATIONS,” Papyrus tells you. “I USUALLY TAKE ACCUSATIONS OF WORKPLACE SABOTAGE WITH A GRAIN OF SALT, BUT THESE… IT SEEMS CLEAR TO ME THAT THIS…GERTRUDE…REALLY WAS OUT TO GET YOU. AND WITH YOUR TERMINATION, SHE STOOD TO TAKE YOUR PLACE FOR PROMOTION, IF I RECALL CORRECTLY?”

Petty as it was, you’d…kept track of her on social media. You can confidently answer, “Oh, she got it, alright.”

Papyrus nods in satisfaction. “THEN THAT’S ALL THE MORE INCRIMINATING. IF YOUR EMPLOYER KNOWS WHAT’S GOOD FOR THEM, THEY’RE GOING TO WANT TO SETTLE THIS MATTER OUT OF COURT, IT’S BLATANTLY DISCRIMINATORY CONDUCT.”

Out of court? Really?!

“My case is that good?” you ask, still unable to fully process it.

“WELL, WITH CLEAR PRECEDENT ON YOUR SIDE…”

“There’s been a case like this before? That a tattooed employee actually won?”

It sounds unrealistic to you. You’d been so immersed in the rhetoric of tattoos as ‘unprofessional,’ unsuitable to be shown around customers and clients for any reason, no matter what or where they were, that the concept feels foreign to you.

“TECHNICALLY,” Papyrus says, “IT WAS A SOULMARK, NOT A TATTOO. A YOUNG LADY HAPPENED TO MEET HER MATE AND HER MARK FORMED ON HER NECK QUITE VISIBLY. SHE WAS FIRED FOR HER ‘UNPROFESSIONAL’ APPEARANCE, IN SPITE OF HER WORKPLACE’S DRESS CODE FORBIDDING THE KINDS OF COLLARS AND CHOKERS THAT MIGHT’VE CONCEALED IT. SHE SUED AND WON.”

That makes you frown a little.

“Mine isn’t… It’s just a normal tattoo,” you insist. “I got it on purpose and everything, with boring old ink and needles.”

Papyrus doesn’t seem concerned.

“A MINOR DISTINCTION,” he assures with a dismissive flap of his hand. “A MARK IS A MARK REGARDLESS OF HOW IT GOT THERE. ANY LAWYER WORTH THEIR SALT COULD ARGUE THAT YOU COULD GET A SOULMARK ACROSS THE BRIDGE OF YOUR NOSE TOMORROW AND YOUR EMPLOYER WOULD’VE BEEN WRONG TO FIRE YOU FOR IT, SO WHY WOULD SUCH A MODEST LITTLE THING LIKE THAT BE SO OBJECTIONABLE?”

You spare another glance to your ink when he gestures to it, and when you look back up, the skeleton’s expression is nothing short of boastful.

“AS A MATTER OF FACT, I COULD WIN YOUR SUIT FOR YOU IN MY SLEEP!”

A bolt of excitement strikes through your soul.

Hesitantly, hopefully, you ask, “Are…are you offering to represent me?”

Even if on a purely professional basis only, you can’t deny that you’d…really like an excuse to see Papyrus again sometime.

Not only because he’s a very handsome guy with the kind of voice that could make the dictionary sound riveting.

But as you watch, his eye-sockets go wide, his cheekbones reddening at the look on your face.

“I………NO. NO! THIS WAS—IS! JUST A CONSULTATION!” he denies. “I’M ONLY REPAYING A FAVOR INCURRED BY MY SCOUNDREL OF A BROTHER, I’M…! I’M TOO BUSY BY FAR TO TAKE ON YOUR CASE, EVEN AS OPEN AND SHUT AS IT OUGHT TO BE!!!”

……

You thought he was hot strutting over to you before with his chiseled face and his sleek suit and his squared shoulders.

…And now, you think he’s unbearably cute with his impossible blush and flustered expression.

Maybe it’s a good thing he’s not going to be your lawyer, because if he’s not going to be working for you…

You think you kinda want to ask him out.

“Alright,” you decide aloud, “I guess I’ll…start looking for another lawyer, if I decide to…pursue this. Um…in the meantime, though, maybe…maybe……… Oh, no.”

Buzzkill in the extreme, you spot the absolute last person you want to see right now walking down the street—and she’s noticed you, too.

Even worse, a smirk comes across her face and she swaggers on over to your table with a ‘delighted’ cry of your name.

“Hello, Gertrude,” you manage to grit out.

You watch as Papyrus flinches at the laugh that comes out of the woman’s mouth, feeling validated.

You always hated it, too.

“Oh, sweetie, please, I keep telling you, you can call me Gertie! Especially now that we don’t work together, haha!”

As if she wasn’t directly responsible for that.

“Right,” you say flatly. “Look, I’m…really sorry, but I’m… I’m kinda busy right now, so I—”

“Really?” The fake incredulousness of her tone makes you bristle. “I thought you’d have so much time now! You know, since you’re…ahem…job-hunting, at the moment.”

“…Yeah. L—”

“I’m actually kind of jealous,” Gertrude has the nerve to giggle. “I’m so busy since you left, with the assistant manager thing and all. I wish you were still around to help out, but…” She clucks her tongue. “I know you just weren’t a good fit there, what with your ‘lifestyle.’”

Stars above.

You’re out of patience.

“It’s one tattoo, not a ‘lifestyle,’” you snap, “and I’m in the middle of something right now, so can you please just…go?”

This was…sadly, very familiar to you.

Good ol’ Gertie was just too good at the passive-aggressive game: she was a bitch with a beaming smile and she knew just how to work people up until they got mad and then she was the victim who was only making conversation…

And you were the bad guy.

You feel your cheeks heating with instant regret, even as Gertrude gasps and puts on her ‘innocent pearl-clutcher’ act.

“So rude!” she exclaims, scowling at you. “I was just checking up on an old friend from work and you tell me to ‘get lost’?!”

You try not to squirm in your seat. “That’s not what I—”

You’re cut off, like you always are.

“You know, it’s exactly that horrible attitude that got you let go,” she says in a decidedly lecture-like tone. “You’re never a team player, you neveraccept any criticism, it’s like you don’t even care about your work! You obviously don’t care about your appearance, just look at what you did to yourself!”

Your eyes widen as Gertrude actually reaches out to you, making to grab at your tattooed hand. Shocked, you start to stand—to shove her back or scurry out of her reach, you have no idea—but you never make it up.

In one fluid movement, Papyrus is out of his chair, pressing you down with surprisingly gentle claws and moving to stand directly between you and the bane of your existence.

“MA’AM,” he says to her, and the stony chill of his voice makes any words you had die on your tongue. “I WOULDN’T.”

Suddenly, you remember what BP told you about Papyrus—that he was a soldier before he was a lawyer—and that seems abundantly clear now. His entire bearing is obviously military, ready for combat and poised to defend you from even the minor threat that was a judgmental, self-righteous jerk.

Your companion’s demeanor certainly seems to have spooked Gertrude.

She takes a step back, blinking up at Papyrus in shock.

“I… Who are you?” she demands to know.

Your hero doesn’t even flinch.

“I AM THEIR LAWYER,” he declares. “AND I WOULD SERIOUSLY ADVISE AGAINST ANY ACTION ON YOUR PART EVEN RESEMBLING HARASSMENT OF A FORMER EMPLOYEE CURRENTLY PURSUING LITIGATION. THAT WOULD LOOK CONSIDERABLY UNFAVORABLE FOR YOU AND YOUR EMPLOYER SHOULD THIS MATTER GO TO COURT, ESPECIALLY WITH MYSELF AS A WITNESS TO YOUR BEHAVIOR.”

That was a lot of big, loaded words for Gertrude to take in and for the first time in your life, you get to have the pleasure of seeing your nemesis look afraid.

Faced with the potential of actual consequences for her pettiness, all she has to say for herself is, “I…! I’m leaving!” before scurrying off down the sidewalk, tail between her legs.

And you have never been so attracted to anyone in your life as this fucking skeleton.

God damn…

Papyrus watches her retreating form until she’s out of sight and slowly retakes his seat.

“……EIGHT MONTHS?” he asks you after a moment.

The amount of time you’d had the joy of that woman as your coworker.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

“YOU’RE A SAINT.”

The deadpan delivery makes you laugh despite yourself, and the sharp grin Papyrus gives you in return makes your heart beat a little faster in your chest.

“I, uh… I couldn’t help but notice,” you slowly say, “that you…might’ve told her you were my lawyer. Did… do you mean that, or…?”

He didn’t.

It’s pretty obvious to you, especially with the way that cute blush comes back across his face—just something he said in the heat of the moment to make getting rid of Gertrude easier—but you can’t resist pushing your luck.

“I…HONOR MY COMMITMENTS,” Papyrus says, even as it looks like it’s killing him. “YES, FINE, I’LL TAKE YOUR CASE. LET’S EXCHANGE NUMBERS SO I CAN CONTACT YOU TO DISCUSS THE DETAILS.”

You have to admit, it’s not really the way you’d been hoping to get Papyrus’ number…but you’ll take it.

Maybe when everything’s said and done, you’ll have worked up the courage to ask him out for real!

…Naturally, that resolve is only strengthened when you get home and take off your nice blazer to find something that definitely didn’t get to be on your skin with ink and needles…

You’re half-expecting it when your phone rings later that afternoon.

What you don’t expect is to answer it to Papyrus’ bold, authoritative voice practically barking at you without a shred of the professionalism he’d spoken with earlier.

“WHAT KIND OF SOULMATE ARE YOU?!” he demands, sounding beyond indignant. “TO LEAVE SUCH A, A…MARK ON ME!!! I CANNOT BELIEVE…! I AM A RESPECTABLE SKELETON, AND NOW I CAN’T SO MUCH AS TAKE OFF MY SHIRT IN POLITE COMPANY AGAIN BECAUSE OF YOU, I HOPE YOU REALIZE THAT!”

He sounds so mad, so…unlike the controlled impression he’d given you before, and it feels strangely…

Natural.

You smile a little to think that you might actually be talking to Papyrus this time instead of just The Professional.

It was a very good mask—you wonder how many he has, and if you’ll get the chance to meet any more of them—but your focus is admittedly elsewhere.

Excited, you ask, “You got a mark, too, then? What is it? Can I see?”

“OH, OF COURSE, YOU WOULD WANT TO SEE YOUR HANDIWORK, YOU DEVIL! FINE!”

There’s the sound of shuffling and then your phone buzzes with an incoming photo. You switch Papyrus to speaker so you can properly ogle it.

The breath comes out of you in a whoosh when you get your first good look. Your skeleton soulmate just sent you the type of picture guys usually sent unsolicited, with a towel hanging low on his pelvis—obviously fresh out of a shower—and a view of his scarred spine and ribcage that could only be described as 'gratuitous'.

Not excepting, of course, the cherry on top: the colorful little heart-shape stamped right in the middle of his sternum.

“Ohhh,” you coo, “that’s so cute!”

“CUTE?!” Papyrus practically shrieks over the phone. “IT IS NOT CUTE! IT’S…IT’S LEWD! A SOUL, RIGHT THERE FOR EVERYONE TO SEE! YOU, YOU LECHEROUS HUMAN, YOU, MAKING ME LOOK LIKE I’M…SOME KIND OF DEVIANT PERVERT! HOW DARE…”

You tune him out a little, letting him keep right on ranting. You need to make sure you have the right angle and lighting for the picture you’re about to send back to him.

You know instantly when he gets it because his words trail off and there’s a noise that sounds suspiciously like his jaw clacking shut.

“What do you think?” you ask after a long moment of silence.

Personally, you’re very fond of the ruby-red rose that’s announced itself on your arm, its thorny stem curling gracefully around your bicep.

You hope he likes it, too, and you can easily imagine that he’s blushing again like he did before…maybe even darker this time.

Eventually, Papyrus speaks.

“………I…I CAN’T BE YOUR LAWYER. I’M…IT WOULD BE HIGHLY INAPPROPRIATE AT…THIS… ” He pauses to clear his throat…or the skeleton equivalent. “AT THIS POINT IN TIME. IN LIGHT OF RECENT DEVELOPMENTS.”

Ah, his composure is coming back. You wonder if you can’t fix that.

“Maybe you can recommend one to me,” you coyly suggest. “Over coffee, maybe. At my place…?”

“………S-SEND ME THE ADDRESS!” he snaps, and then he rudely hangs up on you.

You just laugh and hope you’ll be able to wipe the grin off your face before Papyrus shows up.

So, you lost your lawyer…

But you’ve snagged yourself a date with your soulmate and that feels like a damn good trade-off!

#make your mark #undertale #fanfiction #papyrus #papyrus/reader #underfell #uf!papyrus #myfic

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saturnmyg · 6 years

Text

The devil wears givenchy (1) | Min Yoongi

❝ You’re a therapist who one day gets a call from someone who claims to be satan asking for an appointment. On the day of the appointment you expect to see a teenager or someone in their mid twenties instead you’re met with a man in a screaming red suit whose hair and eyes are as dark as the night but with an attitude of a spoiled brat, he surely cant be satan. ❞

➵ paring: Satan! Yoongi x Therapist reader

➵ author’s note: im excited for this series to start so i hope yall like it, also the question yn asks are question therapist have asked me on the first counselling session this is all based on experience.

➵ requested by : no one

| warnings in this chapter : cursing, mention of death

Masterlist

@minyoonjiswifey

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

‘’Miss Y/n’’

A deep voice followed by a knock rips you out of your thoughts and you look over to the door. The office's secretary Mr Kim stands there holding a planner in his hand

‘’There was a request or should i say a demand for a counseling session’’ Kim continues brows furrowing together telling you that he's mildly annoyed ‘’by someone claiming to be satan’’

‘’Excuse me what?’’ you fully turn towards secretary Kim with raised eyebrows.

‘’As i said he claimed to-’’

‘’No i understood that’’ you interrupt waving your hand dismissively ‘’did you ask what his real name is?’’

‘’I did-’’ Kim answers monotone ‘’- he said mortals shall call him Min Yoongi. i set an appointment this friday five o'clock’’

‘’Alright thank you for notifying me’’ you smile at the stoic man who just nods in reply, bows slightly and walks out of your office.

Mr Kim is.. a peculiar person. He's a man of a few words with an expressionless yet handsome face and mouse grey dyed hair thats most of the times slicked back. Though when finally does decide to talk, he tells the wildest stories that often gives you a whiplash.He's also an undefeated champion when it comes to giving backhanded compliments or at least they seem to be.

You'd think working together for almost nine years you'd be used to him.

Thats right, its been nine years since you started working as a therapist. You've always had an affinity to listening to other peoples concerns and to look at the problem objectively without it affecting you. Its funny though that you ended up in this profession. The past you was.. wild, especially during college. Don't get it wrong it wasn't that you were out partying all time but you and your group of friends were up to no good.

Your family was very poor when your mother was still alive. She loved gambling and spending her money on alcohol to the point where you had no food left at home. Which meant that fourteen years old you had to work, at a strip club as waitress. Not the best place for a minor to be considering the leeching looks the people sometimes threw at you but fortunately one of the security guys always looked out for you. until one day a sleazy looking man gave you his business card saying that he was looking for someone who'd be able to deliver stuff for him. Of course you were weary but the promise of a paycheck that was three times higher than the one you were already earning was too good of an opportunity to let it slip past you.

And thats basically how you became a drug dealer and how you met your friends who were either also working for your ex boss or working for his friend who often had his folks deliver drugs to your boss. Of course that slowed down the moment you became a senior. You started studying and participating in class more, the pressure of finding a socially accepted job after college weighing on your shoulder like a huge rock. You and some of your friends completely stopped dealing when graduation was nearing and your boss thankfully let you go but offered that the there would be always a spot open for you if you ever needed it.

Shaking your head you chuckle slightly and turn back to the computer. You've met countless types of people but no one ever has introduced themselves as satan. You're intrigued in finding out what type of person your client is going to be.

Shutting off the laptop you stand up from the table, take your jacket and put it on. Flickering off the lights you turn around and give your office a last glance before you exit out of the room. Walking down the pristine hallway towards where the reception you fumble with your car keys lost in your thoughts. Arriving at the entrance you see Secretary Kim sitting behind the computer typing something at a fast speed. Walking up to the reception table you knock on the dark hard wood a few times ‘’I'm clocking off’’

Secretary Kim looks up from the computer and nods curtly, the glasses sitting low on his nose bridge, before immersing himself in whatever he was doing before and you let out a small sigh

‘’don’t stay too long’’ you warn him and leave the office.

Standing in front of the elevator you hum a quiet tune waiting for the doors to open. A few seconds later a quiet ping indicates that the elevator has arrived at your level and the doors open. Surprised you see a tall man wearing a black coat with a book in his hand

‘’Ah good evening Y/n’’ The man greets you as you walk into the elevator, dimples poking out of his cheeks.

‘’Its already night Namjoon’’ you greet back with a small chuckle.

Namjoon works at the dental praxis that is one floor above you so you constantly run into each other. He's playful man who most of the times has a mischievous glint in his eyes yet from what you've seen is very serious about his job. Another thing is he's quite popular, even amongst your own coworker alongside with secretary Kim. But with those looks who wouldn't be, tan skin with deep dimples and voice, beautiful thick hair and legs so long they belong on a runway. Plus he got the brains too, he's what you call a total package, anyone would be drooling for him.

Namjoon reaches over and presses the button ‘’since its only 07:55pm its still evening’’

‘’Semantics’’ you reply with an eye roll and namjoon just chuckles. A comfortable hush falls over the both of you and you take out your phone. Your'e so immersed in looking at your schedule that you dont notice that the doors have opened. Namjoon nudges you and you snap out of it, bashfully you tuck your phone back into your pocket and walks towards the building's entrance.

‘’See you Y/n’’ Namjoon turns around smiles, his eyes turn into crescents.

‘’Bye’’ you wave and you both part ways. Taking your scarf out of the purse, you wrap it around your neck before tugging the jacket closer to your body. Winter has finally settled and you're overjoyed. You love November, you love how the city smells of cinnamon and mulled wine. How around every corner you can hear people already singing Christmas carols and how everyone just looks so happy.

Besides Christmas you love winter nights, specifically nights where you wake up at three in the morning to pee and you look outside to find freshly fallen snow. The snow making the environment look brighter and slightly alienating, kind of as if you live in a picture. Yet for whatever reasons that sight makes your bed seem more comfortable and warm.

Scurrying across the parking lot you take out your keys and unlock the vehicle. Quickly you get into it and slam the door behind you. Throwing your purse on the passenger seat you plug your phone in, scroll through Spotify till you find your playlist and press play. A smooth melody with a deep bass vibrates through the car as you're backing out of the parking spot and you quietly hum along.

The only thing about winter you don’t really like is driving on the iced street. Along with the lingering paranoia that any car could lose control and crash into yours.

Thats a bad habit of yours, imagining the worst possible outcomes of any situation. You could be walking down the stairs and suddenly you'll think about how you could fall down, hit your head and die instantly cause your neck snapped. So most of your rides are filled with anxiety and extreme caution.

Sighing slightly you shake your head before focusing back on the road.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

Unlocking the door you enter you home, take off your shoes off. Walking down the hallway into the living room you throw your jacket onto the gray couch and grab the remote control. Turning on the tv you continue to walk into the kitchen.

Your kitchen is pretty nice though, black tiles decorating the wall along with white and gray cabinets. As a matter of fact you decorated your place only with monochrome colors, to the point where even your dishes match the look you're going for. The plants that are widespread throughout the apartment finishes the look with a splash of green color.

To be honest, you've been meaning to change the color scheme but you're either are too lazy or too busy to do so. Maybe its cause you've gotten older but often times the colors make you feel alienating, kind of the same feeling you get when you enter an apple store. Future-esque but not homely or welcoming.

Opening the refrigerator you groan at the sight, slamming the fridge shut you notice the post on note. ''buy groceries!'' it says in bright red cursive letters. Great, whats the point of using post on notes when you don't even see them cause apparently now you're blind.

Grimacing your reach over to the house phone hanging on the wall corner that separates the kitchen and living room, and dial the pizzeria's number. The phone rings a few times until it clicks

‘’Dio's pizzeria how can i help you?’’ asks a lazy voice.

You give them your order and address and they tell you that the pizza should arrive in thirty minutes. Hanging up the phone you walk out of the kitchen, down the hallway into your room.

Your bedroom just like the rest of the apartment is decked out in the same monochromic colors , even your sheets and pillows match. Hanging on your wall are cute pictures of your college friends that you try to meet up at least once a week. Overall the room has a nice feeling to it but if the pictures weren't there no one could tell that this room belongs to you.

Putting the light on you stop in your tracks. Something is off, you cant really pin point what but it feels like someone was in your bedroom when you weren't home. Looking at the pictures on the wall you see that they're all intact and untouched. Walking towards the desk you carefully look at the papers and other items, wondering if you truly left your desk this disorganized.

With quiet steps you walk to the closet and take out your pajamas and scurry out of the room. ''What is this , final destination?' you mutter under your breath and enter the bathroom. Feeling like someone is watching you quickly undress and jump into the shower.

After serenading several songs you remember that the pizza should be arriving any minute you jump out of the shower and dry yourself with a fluffy towel you bought a few months ago. As you're wrapping the towel around your head you hear the doorbell ring so you walk out of the bathroom, take your purse out of the bag that you left in the hallway and open the door.

In front of you stands a boy that looks like he's in his early twenties. Tall, with honey dipped tan skin and Dark hair that reaches the tip of his chin. A face that's so flawless you're sure he was sculpted by god himself. Yet the longer you stare at him the more its off putting. Kind of like how the longer you look into the mirror the more grotesque you think the reflection has become. His eyes is what makes the alarm bells ring in your head. They're big and dark but soulless to the point where for a second you think a other worldly being stands in front of you.

‘’One prosciutto e funghi pizza for Y/n?’’ He asks his voice deep and you notice that his canines are unusually pointy.

‘’Thats me’’ you answer , take the pizza. As you're handing him the money, your finger tips graze the palm of his cold hand a electric shock goes through your body.

‘’Always be careful to not touch supernatural beings’’ a vague memory of an old woman flashes through your head and you quickly retract your hand, clutching it against your chest.

The delivery boy who stiffed up at the skin contact, hastily takes a step back, runs his fingers through his hair , acting nonchalant but his eyes are still wide. ''Have a nice day'' he says, his smile even more menacing than before and it sends a shiver up your spine.

You nod slowly, and he turns around and leaves. Your eyes following his back until he walks down the stairs and you cant see him anymore , before you walk back into your home and close the door. Walking into the living room you put the pizza on the small table by the couch and you sit down.

‘’Its just paranoia’’ you mutter, reach over and take a piece out of the carton. ''Is it though? you ask yourself while biting into the food. You're not sure why you even had such a flashback earlier and why your grandma was in it. As much as you know she's was an ordinary old sweet lady who loved spoiling her grandchild, though there is a big junk of your memory missing due to an incident that happened when you were a child.

Shaking your head you decide to worry about it when the time comes and try to enjoy the rest of the night.

‘’How could you do this to me?’’ the woman on tv cries and you scrunch your nose. The acting is horrible, similar to how the late eighties movie were, over dramatic with a lousy plot and weird sense of humor. Taking the remote control, you take a bite off the pizza and switch the channel.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

Annoyed Yoongi sits in the waiting room, tapping his fingers against his thigh rhythmically. He's only here because his advisor- Jimin basically blackmailed him to go to therapy, which in yoongi's eyes is ridiculous. As a matter of fact , Yoongi had rolled his eyes when jimin came up with the proposition. He doesn't need therapy he's perfectly fine but according to Jimin ,yoongi is brash, pompous and needs a ''reality'' check. Yoongi thinks jimin is only saying that because of the way he treats his employees. Sure he's a hard-to- please- boss and likes to nitpick at everything, he is satan after all but he has seen human's who were in his position treat their employees way worse than he does.

Yet here he is, sitting in the waiting room in a uncomfortable chair while starring at the white eggshell wall that's decorated with various framed pop art posters. The atmosphere heavy reminding yoongi of the dread of lost souls and he wants to smack his head against the wall. The tapping on his thigh speeds up , making the small thumping sound echo through the room and the man sitting opposite of yoongi shoots hime a glare. Before yoongi can retaliate the door opens and you step into the room.

‘’Min Yoongi?’’

Yoongi stand up and fixes his blazer and walks towards you.

The first thing you notice about the Yoongi is the suit he's wearing. The red is so bright it makes you want to gauge your eyes out, you cant fathom for the life of you why someone would wear that color but then again secretary Kim did tell you that the person on the phone was strange. The suit though fits his form quite and goes well with the white turtleneck that he's wearing underneath the blazer.

‘’That's me’’Yoongi replies, stretching out his hand.

‘’Y/n’’ you take his hand into yours and shake it briefly. The second thing you notice is how deep yet slightly nasal his voice is, which matches his image impeccably.

‘’Please follow me’’ you say and turn around to walk down the hallway with yoongi on your heel. Opening your office door you step aside and let him enter the room first. ‘’Would you like something to drink?’’ you ask walking over to the coffee machine standing on top of the gray table thats by the wall.

‘’Coffee, black’’ Yoongi curtly answers, while looking around the room before sitting down on the arm chair.

Yoongi feels uncomfortable. Theres this weird feeling in his gut that started the moment his skin touched yours and that feeling only got stronger when he walked into your office. Your office looks like any normal office would look, white walls also decorated with the same overrated pop art posters that every college student that majors in art surely has hanging in their room. Gray armchairs and a plant by your desk that looks like its five minutes away from dying. Yoongi isn't sure if the plant is supposed to be like that or if you're really just careless and if the latter is the case, does that mean you care about your clients the same way as that plant?

‘’Here’’ you speak up ripping yoongi out of his thoughts, putting the mug on the small table in front of him before taking a seat opposite of yoongi.

Yoongi was surprised earlier when you greeted him. He expected his therapist to be an older woman in her fifties who had a kind grandmother face and a soft voice. Instead he was met with you, who stood as if you were being pulled up by the roots of your hair, wearing black from head to toe with your hair pulled into a tight ponytail and oval glasses sitting on top of your nose. Which made you look more like the grim reaper instead of a professional who listens and helps people coping being alive. Even know as you're sitting in front of him, you're posture is straight as a wooden board which adds an air of elegance to your being but in yoongi's eyes you look prudish and stern.

‘’Tell me why you're here’’ you say looking up from your notebook where you wrote down todays date and his name.

Picking the cup up Yoongi takes a sip before sighing deeply ''i was forced to be here''

That doesn't surprise you, his whole body language and vibe screams that he doesn't want to be here at all and you're sure he's doing that on purpose. ‘’Forced? by who?’’

‘’By my advisor’’ Yoongi answers ‘’he thinks i have behavioral issues’’, he makes air quotes. ‘’Which is complete bullshit considering we work in hell and compared to the human bosses who are way more corrupted that we demons are i'm actually quite lenient’’

You stop writing on your notebook and blink at him multiples times. The fact that he even said that whole speech with a straight face makes you think you dissociated for a second. Raising your eyebrows slightly you continue to write.

calls workplace hell and refers to coworkers as demons. advisor sent him to counseling.

‘’I assume then that you haven't seen a therapist or counselor before?’’ you ask and cross your legs.

‘’correct’’ Yoongi sighs ‘’i'm going to be honest i'm not exactly expecting much from this i'm only here cause of my advisor who otherwise would get angry it wouldn't surprise me if he ratted me out to the angels’’

That the action of someone nonchalantly shrugging their shoulders could look so arrogantly never occurred to you until you met him. Nodding your head you continue to ask

‘’What do you see as being the biggest problem?’’

‘’Work’’ Yoongi answers so fast the words practically fly out of his mouth. ‘’Some would say its me but its the workers. We're not understaffed but the workers love lazying around and gossip. And hiring new people would take up too much time considering that they'd need training and honestly i don’t have the patience cause they're more likely to make mistakes and i hate mistakes. he stresses the word hate.

likes consistency ,seems very particular about surroundings.

‘’What exactly is your occupation?’’

‘’I thought you humans knew what we demons do’’ Yoongi states taking another sip of the coffee. ‘’Considering that mankind worship god and its ways, though the holy scriptures aren't accurate at all i mean they were written by humans , which by the way half of those people didn't even exist, and then translated into other languages over decades which means most of what was originally written is lost in translation.’’

If this were The Office this would be the scene where you'd blankly stare into the camera for a few seconds but it isn't so you just choose to stay quiet.

‘’But you know what's ridiculous?’’ Yoongi continues ‘’i got casted out , told that i will never return to heaven, which yeah was shitty but the real trauma is how when i fell i was immense pain cause my wings started to burn off and my wings were my pride you know. Just cause i didn't agree with their vision, and now i constantly have gods followers on my ass, acting like I'm the bad one when in actuality I'm just doing my job and its those unemployed demons that wreck havoc in the human world.’’

Refers to parental figure as god, meaning that person is the authorial person in the household. overall cites and talks about the bible, could mean the household is extremely religious.. Says angels are after him and the coworkers, possibly trying to tarnish the company's name. Has implied that he is satan, possible the black sheep of the family.

‘’I thought satan is responsible for all demons’’ you decide to humor him.

‘’Don't be silly human' Yoongi waves dismissively his hand ‘’that would make me a god, which i'm not. To be a god i'd need to have a lot more followers and willing sacrifices which i honestly don't have the time for cause you humans are dying at an alarming rate and we have to overwork ourselves.’’ He sends you a nasty glare you decide to ignore.

‘’What would be the solution?’’ you look up from your notes

‘’if they stop fucking misplacing the documents, pens and everything else. Theres a manual where it specifically states that if you put documents on my table it has to be on the right side four centimeters away from the left and three centimeters from the part of the desk thats the closest to you .’’ he rubs his temples with furrowed brows.

‘’Why those numbers specifically?’’

‘’because thats the most efficient way’’ Yoongi answers with a tone that makes you think you asked the world's dumbest question.

‘’They stress me out so much to the point where i feel like screaming every time i see their faces, sometimes i feel like they're doing this on purpose cause when my advisor orders them to do something they'll happily comply. im sure its because of his looks’’ he mutters the last part.

gets stressed out to the point of exhaustion if he doesn't have full control of his environment.

‘’What positive changes would you like to see happen in your life?’’

‘’this is going to sound crazy since i'm satan’’ Yoongi sighs deeply and stares at the dying plant behind you ''but i want things to be more peaceful and right now hell is in utter chaos, as i mentioned earlier a lot of demons are not working, not due that there aren't any jobs but because they still have that old mindset that their only mission in life is to kill humans. Don't get me wrong i could care less about you guys but its my company that has to overwork itself cause of it’’

You raise your eyebrows ‘’don't souls go to hell cause they used to be a sinner?’’

Yoongi scoffs and rolls his eyes ‘’ hell is just another word for the underworld. Souls come down to us to get judgment of their previous life and if they were a goodie two shoes they get sent to heaven by following the holy light that shines down when the gates open up. Though i am glad my advisor was able to negotiate with the angels to let them into heaven cause it was getting overcrowded down there and all the demons we sent up to bring the souls were brutally attacked by them’’

For someone who claims to hate humankind yoongi sure likes and takes his time to explain to you how hell really works. As if you're going to correct anyones assumptions about hell , which by the way you don’t believe that he's satan, there is no actual evidence that demons exist. So you decided a long time ago that you wont believe in such folklore.

You stare at the paper in your lap for a few seconds, raking your brain on what to write down of what he just told you, since you cant compare it to anything logical. The only explanation on why the ''angel's '' would attack yoongi's worker would be that he works in the shady field, you know, like being a drug lord or anything else that isn't accepted in society.

‘’you know’’ you speak up, deciding to document that last part later when you have time to think everything through. ‘’although you are not a god, you're still the most powerful demon in the underworld no?’’

‘’Not exactly, after i fell i became one of the ten kings of hell, mostly because i was the one who contributed the most when it came to establish the underworld. Though i am the one who makes the final decision hence why i get the most workload.’’

‘’hm’’ you hum ‘’it sounds like the reason why you're not being listened to is because you haven't clearly established the hierarchy in your environment’’

‘’I clearly have but they don't-’’

‘’Being the boss does not mean you scream or fuss at your subordinates, but that you reward them for their good work and fire them if it needs to be done’’ you give him an intense look. ‘’With you lashing out shows that you have time to be emotional which means theres time to dilly dally’’

‘’Their reward is a good paycheck’’ Yoongi counters clasping his hands ‘’there are no holidays for us because you humans die whenever its convenient and theres a special regiment that needs to be followed for the souls to either get reincarnated or go to heaven. And firing my workers is out of question’’

‘’Then what about proposing the idea to the others ,of making a trainee department where you recruit people who want or are desperate for money since you said the paycheck is hefty. It would benefit you in the way that , the trainee's can see what working in your department would be like and then decide if they want to stay or not, and if they stay your workload will sink significantly’’

Yoongi touches his lips for a few times, lost in his thoughts trying to process what you said before he snaps his fingers and points it at you. ‘’Human that is actually a very good idea, do you want to work for me?’’

A feeling similar to disgust washes over you with the way he said human, as if you're lower than him, lower than an insect even and your first instinct is to grimace. Instead you smile, squinting your eyes ever so slightly to give the illusion that the expression is real. ‘’No thank you i'm quite content with my job’’ you politely refuse.

‘’Thats a shame’’ Yoongi shrugs his shoulders ‘’you would fit into the underworld quite well’’

You're not sure if that is a compliment of it he's telling you that you're demonic. Either way you decide to ignore his statement and close the file in your lap. ‘’The session will end in five minutes , but before that i want to ask you, how do you feel now?’’

''Better'' Yoongi answers ‘’less stressed as when i walked in which surprises me , you're quite good i wouldn't mind the weekly sessions.’’

‘’Thank you’’ you answer ‘’do you have any questions?’’

‘’everything i tell you is confidential right?’’

‘’Yes, unless you've killed someone or are threatening general public i would have to report you but otherwise no one knows anything, even your advisor wont get told what happened in here’’ you reply.

‘’i wouldn't say that’’ Yoongi hums ‘’he has quite a way with words and is able to persuade anyone’’

‘’we'll have to see’’ you retort and take your planner from the small table ‘’is next week on thursday at four o'clock in the afternoon good for you?’’

‘’Yes’’ Yoongi answers as he's looking at the schedule on his phone.

‘’Good’’ you close the planner ‘’before you go i want you do this every time you feel like your anger and stress is getting to you, take deep breaths and slowly count to ten, that should help you calm down a little and think rationally, well talk on how effective it was next week then’’

Yoongi nods and you stand up, walks towards the door and open it. As you turn around to face him you see him standing just a few feet away from the couch starring out of the window, his brows furrowed and his lips tight. He turns around and walks towards you in long strides an hint of annoyance on his face.

‘’I'll see you next week then’’ you stretch out your hand ‘’if something should come up and you’re not able to come please do call and cancel a day before the appointment’’

''Alright '' Yoongi replies and takes your outstretched hand into his

When Yoongi's hand touch your skin your earlier suspicions are confirmed. His hand are icy cold to the point that it feels like your skin is burning at the mere contact. Which is worrying because the only time a human ever has a temperature that low is when they're dying of hypothermia yet the man in front of you looks like he has drank out of the fountain of youth.

He grips your hand tighter and says in a low voice ‘’be careful in the next few days’’

Not sure if he's warning or threatening you, you blankly stare at him before nodding silently and Yoongi lets go of your hand. Gives you one last glance before he walks out of the room and you close the door. Walking over to your desk you plump into the chair and sigh deeply, you have no idea what that so called warning is about, yet another part of your brain instantly goes to how you thought your apartment was broken in a few days ago. But how can Yoongi even know about that, considering the fact that you've just met an hour ago unless the whole thing about him being satan is actually true.

You shake your head, there is no way Yoongi is satan, sure he looks devilishly good despite the ugly red highlighter colored type of suit he was wearing and the black hair compliments his skin color impeccably. But you're also pretty sure the overlord would have more blood thirst and wouldn't be so merciful like yoongi ,who took his sweet time to explain details about hell to you. Almost coming off like that one kid at a slumber party who corrects the other kids when they state they had fun today , saying since its past twelve it technically ''tomorrow'' hence why they had ''fun yesterday''

Basically a kill joy.

Tapping the pen against the desk for a few times you snort out loud before putting the utensil down. Its out of question that demons and otherworldly beings are real, so for now in your eyes yoongi's using religion as metaphor for his own life.

Opening the laptop you wait for it to start up so that you can write about the session. After around twenty minutes of you trying to find the right words for the report without making it seem like you made the whole thing up ,you notice the time and shut off your laptop. Looking out of the window you notice that the sky is already dark and snowflakes are falling from the sky.

‘’I hope Christmas comes soon’’ you murmur with a small smile before turning around and taking your jacket from the chair. After wrapping the scarf around your neck and picking up your bag you walk towards the door, shut the light off and exit the room.

Christmas has a special place in your heart. Until you were fourteen you had never experienced Christmas, it was something you'd only see on tv and thats was rarely cause your mom almost never paid the electricity bill. And the only time you did was when you were seven, because your grandmother came and took you away from your delirious mother. Though you cant remember it because you had an accident that was severe enough to wipe out your memories of that entire winter.

After you started working as a waitress and the girls who worked there found out that you never celebrated the holiday they made it a tradition to throw a party after work. Everyone would bring food , cake and gifts and would just have a jolly time. And till to this day you continue on with that tradition.

‘’Im clocking out’’ You say as you arrive at the reception to just to find it empty. Confused you look around until you see secretary Kim coming out of the break room with a cup of coffee.

‘’See you on monday’’ he says in his soothing deep voice and holds the cup higher in salutations. You give him a bright smile and walk out of the praxis.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

The reason why you're standing in the middle of the grocery store is because you still haven't bought food. You don't even have an excuse for it, sure technically your'e now seen as an adult but your mind is still that of an nineteen year old college student who doesn't know what budgeting is. Its pure laziness, the mere thought of having to cook and then wash the pots and pans has you groaning for eternity. Hence why your basket is filled with food that can be cooked under fifteen minutes, such as ramen, bread ,cheese, all types of sweets and of course beer.

The convenient store is relatively empty, besides you there are two other people in it one which is the cashier. Mariya takeuchi's song plays in the background but its not the same melody as you remember it. Its funkier than usual which gives the whole store a weird vibe to it. Stores at night are generally a place where it seems like reality is altered. you know the same way how when you're at your friends house and wake up in the middle of the night and everything just seems like its from another dimension? exactly that.

Putting the last chocolate bar into your basket you walk towards where the cashier is located. The cashier is a tall girl who has turquoise blue hair and a mole underneath her left eye. Her whole demeanor is screaming that she's bored but she doesn't attempt to make small talk with you which is something you appreciate. After paying you bid her goodbye and walk out of the store only to bump into someone.

‘’oh shit sorry’’ you aplogize and take a step back. The person you notice, is a male with a black hoodie on, his eyes weirdly soulless as he glances at you not even bothering to give you a reply yet for unknown reasons the hairs on your neck raise and you get goosebumps. Scurrying across the parking lot you open your car door and put the bags into the passengers seat. A feeling of paranoia washes over you and you quickly get into the car.

‘’be careful- '' yoongi's voice rings in your ear and you shake your head.

‘’Im starting to loose my damn marbles’’ you murmur, set the gear into reverse and back out of your spot before driving out of the parking lot , towards home. no music is playing because you feel like if it was on you'd miss clues on if someone is following you, also you can concentrate better that way. Thankfully it doesn't take too long for you to arrive home and you park your car into the spot that was given to you by the landlord of the housing complex.

You tighten the scarf around your neck because the cold wind picks up. Heave your purse over your shoulder as you take the two bags full of food, close the door and lock it before walking up to the building your apartment is in. As you climb up the stairs you notice how the closer you get to your apartment the louder the thumping sound is.

Its your neighbors. Two boys who love to party constantly, which is really annoying even though they're always very polite to you and sometimes when the partying gets too much, they leave you a token of gratitude for not calling the police on them. Its not all that bad though a pair of ear plugs can solve the problem pretty quick and once you're asleep its like you're dead anyways, well unless someone enters your room thats when you wake up in 0000.3 seconds.

You unlock your apartment door and get inside, take off your shoes and walk into the kitchen. You set the bags on the counter, rip the post it note from the fridge and throw it into the garbage can. You leave one ramen on the counter while you put the food into the cupboard, take a small pot and fill it with water before turning on the stove and walk out the kitchen towards your bedroom.

Putting on the light you notice that your room actually looks untouched and your sigh relieved. You get out of your clothes, carelessly throwing the on the floor and put your pajama on, which of course are black. You tie your hair into a bun, take your phone and walk back into the living room. Put on the television and realize that the water should be boiling by now.

you smile slightly when you see the water is indeed boiling, kind of proud at how accurate your timing is but thats no feat for someone who cooks ramen constantly. Literally after ten minutes the food is cooked and you put water into the pan to ‘’let it soak’’ knowing well that you’re using that an excuse to just not have to wash it now. Taking the bowl you walk over to the living room where you sit on the couch and watch the variety show thats playing on tv.

Chuckling at the funny reactions of the idols you put the now empty bowl on the small table in front of you and lay down on the couch, your hand underneath the pillow. This position , combined with your full stomach and the temperature of the living room has you growing tired and its just takes a few seconds before you fall asleep.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

The loud banging on the door wakes you up and alarmed you jump up from the couch. Looking at the clock you see that its eight in the morning and grumble ‘’Who the hell has the nerve to disturb me at ass o clock on a saturday morning somebody better be dying’’

You walk up to the door , open it and see two police officers , whose annoyed expression disappears , in front of you.

‘’ yes?’’ you ask

‘’ma’am we’d like to question you on where you were yesterday when the murder happened next door‘’

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