"Makeup is literally the best part of being a gi-" no. please leave my house.

reaction to finding out you have a chronic disease | fem!reader x haikyuu!!

this idea popped into my head in the shower. shower thoughts are the best. as a chronically ill person such as myself (mentally and physically, LOL!) i felt maybe I was a little qualified to write this. these are all diseases i experience! i can def write some that i am not diagnosed with :) i'm a biology nerd, so i love learning new things, especially about diseases! some of these are more serious than others. i tried to keep the disease symptoms/descriptions general so it can appeal to more diagnoses (for example, nosebleeds are indicative of several different diseases) that way more people can feel represented by what i write!

‼️warnings: mentions of blood, nekoma team being dorks, seizures, WAY too many ellipses (sorry I just love them), pointless bantering (oikawa), dramatic af, osamu described as "caked-up" (sorry not sorry), railing on atsumu for shits and giggles, deep hatred of the word moist

want to see a different haikyuu character's reaction? request here! also, if you want to read a specific disease represented, i can see if i can put it in there too :)

✿ kuroo tetsuro "hey when do you want to- OH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY?!" blood dripped from your nose onto the gymnasium floor. "oh. another nosebleed. my bad, I'll clean that up..." you said apathetically. "hey, this is sort of a big deal, ya know? shit... yaku, I need a towel or something!" he shouted. they really weren't anything serious. ever since you were little, you had frequent nosebleeds. your mom wrote it all off as the cold weather (even in summer), so it wasn't really that big of a deal to you either (until a few doctor visits later). still, the apathy you felt toward your predicament remained. yamamoto had already rushed over at his captain's call. "does she need an ice pack, too? fuck, I don't know what to do...." "aren't you supposed to tilt your head up?" one member asked. "no, no i think you're supposed to tilt your head down...." another muttered. "GUYS, GUYS I GOT IT. GOOGLE SAYS TO 'sit down and tilt your head forward, pinching the top part of your nose above the nostrils for like, 10 to 15 minutes.'" lev sat back proudly, phone in hand. "can't believe you were smart enough to look that up..." kenma whispered under his breath. "hey, hey, look at me. you still with us?" kuroo said, a hand on either side of your face. despite the towel against your nose, you couldn't help but laugh. "oh my god, guys! it's not like I'm dying! this happens all the time." "but that's not...normal. did you ever get it checked out?" kuroo stared at you inquisitively, his brow raised. his fellow teammates nodded. you sighed. "look, unless there's a lot of excessive gushing or anything like that, they said i should be okay. yes there's a whole disease behind it all with a long-ass name that no one can pronounce and yes there are sometimes other symptoms that could result in death, but I'm totally fine, okay? I'm perfectly healthy!" "you poor, fragile angel..." lev said, a hand on his chest, distraught. "that... does NOT make me feel more relieved. at all. in fact, I'm more worried. should we go to the hospital? that one looked a little... gush-y...." kuroo said, pacing back and forth before setting his eyes back on you. removing the towel from your nose, you shook your head. "no. look, bleeding nose already gone, see? I'm not going to the hospital. I'm completely fine. relax, kuroo." kuroo stared at you for another moment, taking in your expression, searching for any signs of discomfort. at last, he sighed. "ok. fine. I concede. but if you ever feel the littlest bit unwell, tell me or one of us, okay?" after your agreement, and several more minutes of doting from both your boyfriend and all the other team members, you at last parted ways. as you got out of the shower that night, your phone lit up with a notification. tetsu 💕 [11:23pm]: I'm serious about what I said back there. please talk to me when you aren't feeling good. you mean so much to me that I can't imagine what life would be like without you. sleep well, babe. love you.

✿ osamu miya "damn are you o-- OKAY, YEAH, NO. SHE'S NOT OKAY." it was your average day as a supportive, amazing, fantastic girlfriend watching your iconic, sexy, hot, caked-up boyfriend play volleyball with his piss-haired twin and the rest of the team of inarizaki. unfortunately for you (and the entire volleyball team), inarizaki had a recent issue with their air conditioning units. even more unfortunate was the fact that the fans in the gymnasium were practically there for decoration, that's how useless they were. despite it being late march (still quite cool outside), the players and spectators were drenched in sweat. still, you weren't about to let a little (lot) bit of sweat deter you from cheering for your mans! so, you remained in the stands, cheering as loudly as you could (except for the times when you couldn't because atsumu was once again on his I'm About To Serve Power Trip). it was finally nearing the end of the game, and thank GOD it was because you were starting to feel reaaalllly light-headed. at the final score of the match, you stood up, but oh, was that a mistake. suddenly, you legs started shaking. the lights suddenly seemed to dim down and black spots were popping up in your vision. maaaaybe you should sit back down. wait. where is "back down"? it suddenly occurred to you that at this point, you couldn't see anything. beginning to panic, you started reaching out to find something to hold onto, thankfully finding the stair railing of the bleachers in your grasp. slowly, you blindly fumbled your way down the steps of what you hoped were the bleachers steps. you heard someone shout something along the lines of, "you good?" you were far too panicked and far too focused to give a reply. don't fall down. don't fall down. don't faint. don't pass out. you chanted in your head like a mantra. you heard the squeak of shoes against the ground and voices talking back and forth around you when suddenly a steady hand grabbed ahold of you just above your elbow. guess that was all you needed before your consciousness flickered, then extinguished.

-

"....cold like ice...." "...pale as hell...." you could only hear snippets of sentences, and your eyelids felt heavy. "....have something....with sugar, preferably...." when you finally opened your eyes, you were no longer in the gym, but in inarizaki's nurse's office. "hey..." you turned, now noticing the other occupant of the otherwise empty room. "'samu... did I faint again?" his eyebrows rose. "again? like, you've done this before?" "yeah. happens a lot. 's fine though. was a little scary back there for a minute, though." "damn, I'll say. I've never seen someone so pale. and sweaty. and that's saying something, cuz post-practice 'tsumu is disgustingly moist." "'samu, I love you, but never say that fucking word again." "what, moist?" you cringed, grabbing at your ears, "ugh, yes! I'm already dying here and now you're nailing the final mark in the coffin." osamu gave his signature half-smile. "I thought you said you were fine?" you scoffed, "that was just to make you feel better. I'm gonna need lots of cuddles tonight to wave off my near-death experience." he let out a light-hearted laugh. "okay. plenty of that for you regardless of whether you're on death's door or not." he said, giving you a small peck. you pursed your lips. "I need you right now, though." his face split in a full grin as he slid next to you on the small bed. "anything for you darlin'."

✿ oikawa toru "please... please be okay..." you had been enjoying your regular weekday study session. it always went as follows: meet up after class, head off to aoba johsai's library, study (and perhaps get slightly off-topic over some vending machine snacks and drinks), and at last, go to volleyball practice (perks of being a manager!). "ok, ok, we should probably finally look at what we're supposed to know for our next english exam," oikawa said, still in between chuckles. "but toru... i can't go on without a drink..." you clutched your throat dramatically. "must... have.... beverage.... dying of.... thirst!" oikawa laughed again, "geez, fine!" he said, attempting to sound annoyed by your request (and failing miserably). "I'll go grab us something to drink. on me." he winked. "wow. what a gentleman. you really spare no expense, spoiling me with luxurious drinks from the beverage box of wonders! oh how lucky I am to have such a supportive boyfriend..." you leaned back on your chair, drying a fake tear of gratitude, while simultaneously stifling a giggle. "damn, ok. fork out the yen, then, babe." "nooooo~~~ I was kidding! I'm sorry you're the best ever in the whole wide world~~~ my little piglet oinkawa~" "ok now you're paying for my drink too." "I'm sorry!!!! I won't call you oinkawa ever again." "thank you-" "to your face." after at least 15 minutes of more bickering (and no studying) oikawa was off to the so-called beverage box of wonders, also known as a shitty-ass vending machine that was probably last refurbished in the '90s. oikawa was still laughing to himself as he rounded the corner to the library, drinks in his arms. "hey babe, are you finally studying?" he smirked, finally nearing your small alcoved study area.

- thud, thud. the long-forgotten drinks fell to the floor as oikawa rushed over to you. there you convulsed on the ground, your eyes white and pupil-less, and your mouth foaming, turning a slight twinge of pink. you let out small grunts, completely unresponsive. "oh my god, oh my god, hey, hey listen to me." oikawa was already in full-fledged panic mode, tapping your face with his hand. "oh my god, SOME PLEASE HELP HER!" the few left in the library looked over at oikawa, then at you, before beginning to run about. one was on their phone speaking to a 911 operator, another rushed out of the room. one kneeled alongside oikawa, checking helplessly for a pulse. "protect her head." a girl read out from her phone. oikawa immediately shed his jacket, placing it under your head which was hitting the ground rapidly to the incongruent rhythm of your convulsions. "check her bag, does she have any meds?" "SHE'S MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND I THINK I'D KNOW IF SHE HAD MEDS!" oikawa shouted. he didn't mean to snap, but he felt so useless. were you hiding this from him? how did he not know you had seizures? were they always this bad? despite what he'd told the unnamed student, oikawa, jumped up, grabbing your bag and nearly ripping the zipper with the force he'd opened it with. no medication. "no meds." he said, quieter this time. a hand rested on his shoulder. "it's gonna be okay, man. look, she stopped." oikawa whipped his head over to you, chastising himself for removing his eyes from you for even a second. you were still breathing, but it was like you were in a deep slumber. by the time the EMTs arrived, however, you'd begun blinking your eyes lazily at your surroundings.

- "hey oikawa." you said, smiling. oikawa said nothing in return, his head in his hands. you sat there for a moment, taking in your surroundings. "wait a minute, where am i?" you felt a tickling inside your nose. at the touch of your hand, you realized you had a breathing tube hooked up you. another glance around the sterile hospital room showed your heart rate monitor and other cords wrapped up around the hospital bed. you laughed, "...and what's all this stuff on me?" "you had a seizure." oikawa said sharply, though not unkind. you stared at him once more in disbelief. "...really?" "yeah. I came back from getting our drinks when...when I found you lying on the ground, shaking. the doctor says you bit your tongue, which explains why the foam that was coming out of your mouth was pink. they want to do an MRI on you." "oh." you gazed down, then met his eyes again. "you... had to deal with that all by yourself?" "other people in the library helped me... though I don't think I was the nicest guy to be around. its sort of all of a blur." you smiled, "for me, too. I can barely remember what we were talking about before I woke up." oikawa's eyes widened, "really?" "yeah... but I think I'll be okay, as long as you're here." "this hasn't happened before, has it?" "no, not really. I mean, I've always gotten light-headed easily, which is sort of how I felt before I, ya know... went down... but never like that. I don't think. then again, if I wasn't here in a hospital bed, I think I would've just thought I fell asleep or something. it just feels like I took a long nap. still kind of tired, honestly." oikawa shook his head. "I'm never letting you out of my sight ever again." "oikawa, seriously. it's gonna be okay. I'm fine. nothing bad happened, right? I didn't die." "BUT YOU COULD'VE!" he shouted. "...you could've.." he said again in a whisper. suddenly, he got up. leaning over the hospital bed, he pressed his lips to your temple, leaving a soft kiss in its wake. "I just... I don't want to see you suffering. I don't want you to get hurt." "but you were there." "but what if I wasn't?" "but you were." you slid your hand over his own. "oikawa, it's gonna be okay, I promise. I'm a little scared, too, but... I know we'll figure something out, okay?" he let out a mix between a sigh and a laugh, "why does it feel like I was the one who had the seizure? some boyfriend I am, making you feel worse." "oikawa shush." you placed you index finger over his lips. "you're not allowed to talk about yourself in that way in my presence." he rolled his eyes, but his dimples popped out in a wary smile. "you're amazing, you know that?" you imitated deep-thought, your finger on your chin. "hmm... no, doesn't ring a bell." a full grin bloomed across his face now. "then I'll spend the rest of my life reminding you."

a/n: romanticize the source of your medical bills girlies 💕 it works wonders

{ 146 }

sands of time.

academy arc

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

{ the spell on me hasn’t been lifted | i want to use the sands of time | i want to be by your side }

you never liked the freshman student who entered the same high school as you.

the one who made all the boys become green with envy over-

the one who made all the girls practically fall to their knees for him-

sung jinwoo.

despite how all the girls went crazy over his dashing good looks and charming smile, you sadly never saw his appeal. for you personally, he looked just like any other guy. nothing about him stood out to you-

especially not his perfectly styled ebony locks of hair,

or the grey eyes that you swore sometimes glowed purple in some instances,

or the full lips that remained in a permanent smile whenever he met your gaze-

yeah, there was absolutely nothing appealing about him!

you suppose you should count yourself lucky on how you didn’t share the same class with him, being in a different homeroom as you simply saw him in passing within the hallways and heard stories about him from the gossiping girls who wished to date him.

as you trail your eyes away from your open textbook, the sounds of a certain commotion was heard as one of your classmates runs back into class. her friends were comforting her as angry tears fell down her face.

“what gives?! just what is up with that sung jinwoo guy! doesn’t he realize that i’m practically the most beautiful girl in school here!”

ah, ji-yeon was throwing another tantrum again, running her hands across her luscious, brown locks of hair with her blue eyes fuming after what you assumed was sung jinwoo’s rejection.

filled with amusement from witnessing the spectacle, you trail your eyes over to ji-yeon and her lackeys, ara and cho. “he kept telling me that he couldn’t possibly give me a chance; that he was already in love with someone else, yet refused to relinquish her identity to me!”

“ah, he probably didn’t want you to bully her, ji-yeon.”

“and come on, you shouldn’t feel so upset! you can do so much better than him!”

“but i don’t want anyone else…! i want him!”

you had to bite back your laughter the moment ji-yeon stomps her feet against the ground, “and that’s what pisses me off the most! who even is she, managing to steal jinwoo away from me like that?!”

you could no longer hold back your laughter, making a snort escape from your parted lips in response to ji-yeon’s anger. she hears you and turns to face you, tossing back her hair in response. “what’s this?”

she lets out a hiss of your name, “how dare a wallflower like you eavesdrop on my conversation.” the girl gains up on you with her two friends in tow.

“i didn’t eavesdrop. you were the one who kept airing out your business in class.”

she clicks her tongue in response to your words, “it’s lunch time, are you really that much of a loser, eating all alone in class like this?”

“no, i simply didn’t want to eat in the cafeteria and be bothered by idiots like you. but i guess even with my best efforts, i couldn’t escape you at all.”

your gaze was unflinching even as ji-yeon raised up her perfectly manicured nails to strike you, ready to take the hit when the sight of someone tall stops ji-yeon’s hand from making contact with your cheek.

your eyes go wide, seeing sung jinwoo himself hold ji-yeon’s hand in a vice grip. his eyes were glaring down at her, making you see that same familiar glow.

his voice was filled with authority when he lightly shoves ji-yeon away from you. “that’s enough.”

“sung, what are you doing here?” ji-yeon’s voice comes out as strained as ara and cho took a stance behind her, ready to support her even when they felt intimidated by jinwoo’s glare.

“i heard you throwing a tantrum and decided to intervene before you did something stupid.”

ji-yeon’s face became a vibrant shade of red, its scarlet hue depicting her embarrassment and shame at being scolded by the man she had a crush on. with a huff and a final flip of her hair, she walks away from him, hearing her high heeled shoes tap against the linoleum flooring of the school.

“hmph, i suppose you’re right, sung. that bitch isn’t worth getting expelled for.”

ara and cho follow from close behind her, yet you were the one that stopped jinwoo from following after them.

“it’s okay, just hearing her complaints was more than enough for me.” even if you didn’t like him (and no! you were not in denial!) you didn’t want him to do anything that would further jeopardize his education.

he was already under suspicion due to his shady past, disappearing for two years before returning unexpectedly-

despite how odd he was, you truly didn’t hate him enough to want to see him fail.

in the end, he relaxes his stance and looks down at you, eyes still glowing with that strange, purple hue. you swallow thickly, but did not look away from him, maintaining eye contact with jinwoo as you waited for his next words.

instead, he ends up shocking you when he places a hand against your cheek, caressing it softly while asking you, “are you alright?”

you give him a nod in response, all while trying to hide the heat from your cheeks. “yes, i’m fine.”

you shiver when he lets out a rich chuckle in response. “that’s good.”

looking away from him in hopes of calming down your rapidly beating heart, you ask him, “why did you come to my rescue?”

he remains silent for a few moments before gently giving your head a few pats.

“because i would hate to see a bruise blossoming on that pretty face of yours.”

his admission was enough to make you do a double take, looking up at him with wide eyes while catching his smile.

“do you have any club activities later today?”

your mouth was still dry, and because of this fact, you were afraid to speak. this was what prompted you to shake your head in response to his question, earning yet another smile from him.

“good. how about you keep me company and watch me do track on the bleachers?”

his question leaves you gaping in response, and jinwoo didn’t even bother waiting for your answer when the 5-minute bell rang, alerting you to the end of lunch as your classmates slowly filled the classroom once more. you wanted to call out to jinwoo and tell him how you had much better things to do than watch him running around in circles-

but his smile when he looks back at you while giving you a wave manages to make your heart flutter in response.

dammit to hell-

this boy had you wrapped around his fingers after all.

{ … }

the sun was slowly setting as you found yourself on the bleachers, watching jinwoo and his track team practice their endurance and speed for the next competition.

as you sipped at the bottle of water jinwoo had given you, you couldn’t deny that he was a beautiful runner.

he was graceful, while maintaining a good speed. he never once appeared to be out of breath, even when he was working up a sweat.

during his run, you notice the way the upperclassmen kept gesturing at you while talking to jinwoo. he gives the senior a smirk before telling him a few words, making them all smile at you in response.

you had a sneaking suspicion that they were talking about you, and the thought alone was enough to make you bristle in response. you were on edge when the track team finally finished their practice, with their coach commending them on their good work as he allowed them all to return home.

jinwoo makes his way back to you while extending his hand out to you. “water, please.”

you look down at your half empty bottle of water. “what- but… i already drank from this?”

“so?” jinwoo gives you a smirk before taking the bottle of water from your hand, uncapping it as he worked on drinking the rest of it. you were captivated by the movements of his lips, emptying the bottle with greedy gulps as you watch the droplets of water slide down his chin and onto his throat…

you immediately snap out of your reveries when jinwoo meets your gaze. as if sensing your thoughts, he tosses the empty water bottle into the bin with his smirk growing wider in response, “what are you looking at?”

“n-nothing!”

you ignore the heat felt against your cheeks and step out of the bleachers, feeling jinwoo place a steady hand against your waist and shoulder as he helped you back on the ground. he flashes you a wide grin before picking up his duffel bag.

“come on, i’ll take you home.”

he interlocks his fingertips together with yours, pulling you closer to him as he walked out of the school with you. by now, your heart was pounding within your chest, feeling deeply affected by his close proximity.

“jinwoo.”

you say his first name out loud, making jinwoo stiffen in response. feeling proud at being able to make him lose his cool, you proceed to ask him.

“what did you tell our seniors during practice? they kept looking at me, laughing while giving me winks each time they ran past me.”

you look up at jinwoo, seeing him scratch the tip of his nose as a light blush was settled against his cheeks. he remains silent for a few extra beats, as if carefully considering his words before confessing to you,

“i told them that you were my girlfriend.”

your brain seemed to short circuit in response to his answer, unable to fully comprehend what was going on as you sorted through your emotions.

you felt…

annoyed,

confused,

but perhaps above all else-

you felt happy.

“y-you, are you joking, sung jinwoo?”

your pout was evident when jinwoo looks back down at you, eyes glowing a faint purple once more before he leans down closer to your height.

“if you don’t believe me, how about i show you just how serious i am…?”

somehow understanding what he meant, you close your eyes in response, allowing jinwoo’s lips to perfectly slot against yours in a sweet kiss-

but little did you know, you were once jinwoo’s lover in another timeline; a timeline that he now spent years correcting as he made an oath to himself to bring you back to him, no matter what the cost may be.

a.n. - my jinwoo obsession will never stop, lmao, and i’m afraid i’m going to keep flooding everyone’s feed with stories of him 😭😭😭😭

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

“All yours” (modern!Aemond Targaryen, college au, part 1)

🔥 part 2: First time for everything

author’s note: the idea came out of NOWHERE. I reread my The Greens (modern!au) — and then this thing happened. to keep up with the tradition I’m posting it as it is (I may regret it when I wake up lmao), hopefully, some of you can enjoy this silliness! ✨ • Aemond doesn’t lose an eye but he still has a big scar (let’s pretend Luke missed by a couple of inches) • I originally said that he’d be into sports however I’m yet to pick a sport for him so the description is very vague (I’m open to suggestions!)

words: ~3000 (I TRIED to cut it short... but alas)

warnings: none, I think? they just swoon over each other (and a cheeky blond makes an appearance again ;)

⋙ It’s impossible not to know who Aemond Targaryen is when pretty much every girl on campus has a crush on him. The tall athletic guy with chiseled cheekbones and bright eyes who wins one tournament after another, manages to stay at the top of his classes but barely talks to anyone and has a handful of friends. Even the scar on the left side of his face — a faded red stripe from his temple and down to the cheek — only adds to his appeal although you suspect it’s mostly due to people not knowing how he got said scar. Come to think of it, there isn’t much to know about him at all: he’s not on social media, rarely goes to parties, stays out of trouble and doesn’t even like his pictures being taken. There is a certain charm to that mystery yet you also can’t help but respect his intelligence and perseverance. (And you may find him attractive, but that’s a given.)

⋙ You share a few classes with him, and he usually sits nearby although you think it’s purely a coincidence. He once gave you his pen when you forgot yours, and he also sometimes stands behind you in line for coffee in the nearby cafeteria but you never really interact. You catch him looking at you a couple of times and you don’t think much of it. You might’ve thrown a glance or two at him, too, since there’s no crime in that.

⋙ You get paired up for a project by mere chance: your best friend fell sick and his mate missed the class for whatever reason so you and Aemond are the only ones without a partner, and Mr. Harrold tells you to work together. Aemond approaches you when the class is over.

“Hi” — “Hi” you say in unison. There’s a glint of a smile on his lips, his eyes studying your face.

“I’ve got two training sessions today, can we maybe start tomorrow?” he suggests.

“Sure, tomorrow sounds fine,” you nod. “Meet me in the library at 3?”

You quickly discuss the books you’ll need, and he casually asks for your number so you could text him the details. While you’re typing it, you miss the grin that appears on his face. Truth be told, you’re too busy thinking of how good his arms look with his sleeves rolled up.

⋙ The next day, he’s only five minutes late. You don’t even notice, wrapped up in reading, until he rushes in, a tad disheveled and very apologetic. You are about to tell him it’s no big deal when you notice blood on his hand — or more so on his knuckles. He looks like he wants to avoid the subject but you are truly shocked at the sight.

“Should I worry about the other guy?” you muster a smile, looking him over with concern.

“He deserved it,” Aemond mumbles as he sits next to you, averting his gaze.

He goes to dig some books out of his bag when you take his hand — you do so without thinking, it almost comes out as a reflex. While you examine his bruised skin, Aemond pretty much forgets how to breathe.

“It’s not that bad but will swell up in the morning, so you need to apply some ice,” you tell him, fingers gently brushing over his. “Here, this is the next best thing I can think of,” you grab your cup of iced coffee and put it to his knuckles. When you glance up at Aemond, you see him looking at you with a stunned face expression, and you realize that you might’ve overstepped a little.

“I’m sorry, you probably already know what to do without my advice,” you move to pull back the cup, but he suddenly covers your hand with his other palm.

“Don’t,” he breathes out. “This feels nice.”

Within a few seconds, his cheeks turn red.

“The ice, I mean, you were right about applying the ice,” he corrects himself, and you can’t help but smile wider. The most popular guy on campus is blushing because you held his hand, and there’s something very endearing about this moment. Or maybe it’s just him.

You push that thought away and divert the conversation to your assigned project. He keeps his hand intertwined with yours for the rest of the evening, both of you acting like it’s no big deal.

⋙ The next time you see him, he brings you coffee, and somehow he guesses your order perfectly. You meet up a few times a week, and he makes sure to come in time. Always prepared and polite, he buys you coffee regularly and insists on carrying all your books. You now sit together in classes, he shares his secret Spotify account with you and you learn that you share a passion for reading. Aemond also gives you his hoodie when he notices that you’re cold on your way out of the library one evening. He pulls the hoodie up over his head and his T-shirt comes up, too, exposing his lower abdomen and the tight lines of his abs. You take a deep, long breath, pretending that you didn’t see a thing.

And sometimes his hands brush yours and his gaze lingers on your face. But it’s another thing you try not to think of.

⋙ He mentions in passing that his training will get more intense as the competition season begins. At this point, you’ve been meeting for a couple of weeks pretty regularly, and you feel a slight twinge in your heart at the realization that you’ll see him less often. What you don’t expect is for him to stand you up. At any other time, you might’ve cut him some slack, but it just so happened that you are in a really bad mood since the moment you woke up, and him not answering your texts only rile you up.

You are so annoyed, you come into the locker room with little to no hesitation. Most of the guys already left but you still hear a couple of them whistling at you, and you flip them off. Aemond just got out of the shower and when you see him, he already has his jeans on and stands next to his locker searching for a clean shirt.

“Dude, your girl looks pissed,” one of his mates comments, and Aemond gives him a perplexed look. And then he turns to see you, your eyes burning holes in him, and his face pales.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters. “We were supposed to meet, weren’t we?”

“Yep,” you drawl with a frown, and his face falls even more.

He doesn’t have time to explain as you hear another whistle.

“Nice ass,” it’s Jeff, one of the frat boys who’s famous for not keeping his hands to himself. You are about to shut him off but when Jeff looks up at you, his smirk disappears.

“Woah, I didn’t know it was you!” he raises his hands in defense. “My apologies to your ass,” he glances behind your back, terrified. “...To you, I mean my apologies to you!” he backs off. “Hey, it was meant as a compliment, tell your boyfriend I’m not his punching bag!”

“You need to google what a compliment is, you idiot,” you scoff at him, and Jeff all but runs off.

The room is awkwardly quiet, and Aemond’s friends quickly get out, leaving you two alone. He barely has time to open his mouth before you press your hand to his chest, making him stumble back purely out of surprise.

“Care to explain what the hell was that?” you hiss at him, your gaze burning. “My boyfriend?!”

“I didn’t say that, he made an assumption,” Aemond clarifies.

“Jeff was the one you got into a fight with?” you suddenly figure out. “But why?”

“He was talking shit about you,” he says, clearly displeased.

“And you decided it was worth a fight? I could not care less if he — ”

“I do,” Aemond cuts you off. “And I think it was worth it,” he punctuates with so much certainty, it takes you aback.

In the next second, you realize that your hand is still on his bare chest — it’s warm and toned, his muscles tense under your touch — and you are standing very close to each other. It’s very, very hard not to think of.

“Um, thank you, I guess,” you step back with your gaze still on him. “I-I shouldn’t have barged in here, it wasn’t very —”

One of your legs bumps into a bench, your eyes widen — and you are about to trip over when Aemond catches you. With a blink of an eye, his hands are on your waist as he brings you closer again, and this time the distance between you two is even shorter. You involuntarily look at his lips and when you glance back up, you catch him looking at yours.

If he kisses you right now, you won’t mind. In fact, you will probably enjoy it. Probably a lot.

Aemond clears his throat and pulls back.

“I’m sorry that I stood you up, the coach didn’t let us rest for a minute,” he explains with a repentant tone. “I wanted to send you a text, I really did. And then it just went out of my head.”

“It’s fine, I get it,” you give him a wan smile. “You warned me that you would be busy.”

“Still, it was rude on my part,” he insists. “You have any plans for the evening? We can still go to the library, I’m all yours for today.”

The way he phrases it makes your heart skip a bit. You bite the inside of your cheek to concentrate.

“They closed earlier,” you sigh. “Something about updating the catalog.”

Aemond only thinks for a second.

“I, um... Live close by. Maybe you can come over? No one will bother us there,” his smile looks sheepish and unsure but there’s a hint of eagerness in his voice. And he is still very much half-naked.

“I happen to be completely free,” you say as your concentration goes out of the window.

⋙ Aemond apologizes again, profusely. He gives apologies in the locker room, on your way out, in the cab — and when you get out of the car and he opens his mouth again — you turn and firmly place your hand over it.

“I think I got it the first time,” you tell him, and he looks amused with your act.

You feel him smiling, his lips tickling your palm, and you move your fingers away as your cheeks heat up.

“Quite fierce, aren’t you,” he remarks.

You don’t notice a sidewalk curb but Aemond does — his hand finds yours when you are a moment away from stumbling again, and he tugs you closer. He doesn’t comment on it, asking you about your day instead. There are a few other parts of your body where you want him to put his hands on, you think.

⋙ His apartment is unexpectedly huge — four bedrooms and a living room, high ceilings and large windows, and you can’t hide your bewilderment. He half-heartedly explains that his dad left it to them after the divorce.

“Oh, so it’s not just yours,” you conclude, relieved. “Makes it look like less of a palace.”

“I have my own, actually,” he almost looks ashamed, and you find his modesty ever so adorable. “I’ve repainted the walls, and the place needs some air. So I’m crushing here at the moment.”

He tells you that his older brother Aegon mostly hangs out in his gallery, Helaena took a week off to visit her friends, and you already know that their youngest — Daeron — studies abroad.

“Mum recently moved in with her boyfriend,” Aemond nonchalantly adds while showing you to his room.

You realize that it’s just the two of you. The thought of it warms up the lower part of your body, anticipation tingling in your abdomen, but you do your best to keep it together.

Luckily, you get easily distracted by the beautiful interior, his sister’s plants and paintings, and rows of photos on the walls, and you try not to gawk at the surroundings. Aemond tries not to gawk at you. You both fail.

“Feel yourself at home, I’ll go look for my charger,” his hand grazes your back after he opens the door. Aemond leaves you standing but the feeling of his touch remains. You have to pinch yourself to get back to reality.

⋙ You see his bookshelf that stretches from one end of the room to the other, and excitement bubbles in your chest as you rush to take a closer look. There’s a plethora of books of all colors and genres, paperback and hardcover, and you energetically look through the rows filled with them. You reach for one of the books on the upper berth, standing on your tiptoes but it causes you to lose balance. The only reason you don’t fall flat on your back is because Aemond’s hand swiftly lands on your waist, steading you. He turns you around to him, and your faces are suddenly only inches apart.

“Are you always this clumsy?” he chuckles lightly, his breath fanning over your skin.

Only when you are around, apparently.

Aemond’s lips part, his brows raising, and he stares at you, surprised. And then you realize that you said it out loud. Before you get a chance to correct yourself, he lets out a laugh, and you feel your face flushing. You close your eyes in embarrassment, trying to steady your breath, and his laughter dies down. He firmly locks his hands around you.

“What’s on your mind?” Aemond murmurs after a minute of silence.

You, you, you. Fearing that there’s still a chance that you are misreading the situation, you vaguely respond:

“A lot of things,” but your voice comes out strained and quiet.

When you don’t hear him replying, you open your eyes — your gaze immediately meeting his. The warmth from his hands slips into your body.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” Aemond asks in a low tone, his eyes a shade darker in this lightning. You shake your head because talking seems like an actual challenge right now.

“Kissing you,” he confesses, maintaining eye contact.

You inhale sharply, a wave of relief washing over you. And then something else sparkles inside, tightening your chest, and the well-known burning sensation blossoms right under your navel.

“You should,” you tell Aemond, and it’s the only confirmation he needs.

He crashes his lips into yours with fervor, pulling your chest flush against his and knocking the breath from your lungs. His hand cups your face, guiding you even closer, his mouth greedy and intent with its every movement, and your head goes dizzy with longing. The kiss is both tender and heated, and you lose yourself in the moment, only thinking of how soft and supple his lips are, and how ineffably good they feel.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” Aemond mumbles against your mouth.

“Only been a month,” you manage to say while his lips move from your jaw to your neck.

“Long before that,” his words burn the spot just below your ear, making you shiver. “Ever since you argued with Mr. Harrold that Zelda Fitzgerald wrote ‘The Great Gatsby’ and her husband was a total — hmm, how did you call him? Yeah, a total nitwit,” he cackles.

You glance at him with your mouth ajar:

“Aemond, that was last semester.”

“I didn’t know how to approach you,” he admits, abashed. “And I didn’t want it to be weird or to mess it up and — ”

You shut him off with another kiss, and he hums in satisfaction. His thumb softly rubs your cheek while he deepens the kiss, his mouth exploring yours. His other hand dares to move lower, squeezing your hip and making you sigh at the alacrity of his. It’s simultaneously overwhelming and not enough but he still holds back a little, not crossing the line just yet.

“Wow, can’t believe this is finally happening!”

You break the kiss, startled by someone’s voice. A blond guy is leaning on the door frame, a pair of glasses and a grin on his face. Aemond groans into your shoulder, his hands moving to your waist.

“It’s Y/N, right? I’m this dipshit’s brother,” he shamelessly walks closer and extends a hand. You reluctantly go for a handshake, but he plants a quick kiss on yours.

“Aegon,” Aemond says with a warning tone.

“Oh, don’t grumble at me, I’ve been listening to you talk about her for months,” his brother’s smile widens. “Now Hel owes me 50 bucks.”

“Why is that?” you squint at him.

“We made a bet. I said he’d grow a pair and ask you out before the year ends. Glad I was right,” he snickers.

“Well, technically...,” you can help but laugh.

“He still didn’t?” Aegon fakes a gasp. “I apologize on his behalf, I taught him better than that!”

“Can you please fuck off already?” Aemond glares at him, irritated, and Aegon rolls his eyes but takes the hint.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it, kids,” he winks at you and walks away.

“I like him,” you exclaim.

“I don’t,” Aemond retorts and pulls you in for a kiss as soon as the door closes. “But I will let him win the bet.”

“Is that so?” you cock your head with a smile.

“Yeah,” he pauses, his face getting serious, and he almost looks scared while asking: “Will you go on a date with me?”

“I’d love to,” you agree without a second thought, and his lips twitch upward, making your heart swell with affection. “Where do you plan on taking me?”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Aemond says cryptically, his eyes never leaving yours. “May be more than just one date,” he sounds both daring and pleading. You gently trace the line of his scar, and he relaxes at the movement.

“So you are all mine for a while, huh?” you joyfully assume, earning a laugh from him, and he leans in, his hand lovingly caressing your face.

“For as long as you’ll have me,” he whispers before closing the distance between your lips. ➡ part 2: First time for everything

• listen, I looked at his face and I thought there’s no way girls won’t find him attractive, with or without a scar. so yeah, this version of Aemond is more confident. I may do a second part? maybe more headcanons (love confessions, meeting his family, moving in together, etc.)

• I kinda want to write for Aegon, too... I mean, just look at the original photo and tell me he doesn’t seem like the sweetest fuckboy ever! tagging @greenowlfactif, @kyuupidwrites since you asked (I hope that’s fine 🥺)

✨ recent fic: “My first choice” (she’s Aegon’s bestie, inspired by “Little women”) 💌 my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

,, we're similar, dont you think? "

pairings : gf!ethanlandry x fem!reader

summary : what would you do for love?

content warnings : gore, killing, mentions of body parts out place, very morbid for some readers, possessiveness, jealousy.

**lowercase intended**

and there you were. squeezed by a few sweaty bodies but all you can focus on is him. and the way she flirts with him. your thoughts being disoriented, breathing heavy as you try to calm yourself down. how dare he, have the nerve to ask you to be his rightful date to this party, but flirt with another girl. not to mention, shes your friend.

the music changes with the way you think. eliminate whoever is stopping us from being happy. your calm facade broke with the way you broke her nose.

you pull stacy into the alleyway, pushing her down onto the rough floor that made her skin crack. her once soft skin is now full of dirt and cuts that you knew he disliked.

" you told me youd stay away from aaron! you promised, you whore! " you stomp towards her, before kicking her face. your high heel met her nose bridge which was so close to her eye, something you aimed for. if you had kicked her eyeballs in, she might not have the chance to ogle her eyes at aaron.

" i told you, hes mine! fucking mine! " you screamed, before looking around. you found a metal pipe, lifting it before smashing her face. you always hated how she tried her best to look better than you whenever shes around aaron. you liked how the sound of the metal pipe clanked with her skull, with the way her screams harmonizes with it.

" who's the ugly one now? " you whisper to her smushed face. one that didnt look pretty. her face was bleeding, skin torn apart like she had been eaten alive by a dog. she choked on her blood, her neck too, bruised and bleeding.

standing up, you stumbled backwards before registering what you had done.

" fuck.. not again.." you whispered before turning around. no one seemed to be near you.

★

ethan coulnt help but stare at you. clear rage in your eyes as he followed what you were looking at. you looked jealous despite your calm facade. he watched you pull the girl away from the guy, pulling her out of the bar. the bar had parties every friday and ethan decided to see what the hype was about. and he saw it. watching you kick the girl, fuck the girls face up was something he didnt expect to see. maybe he should come to bars often.

" fuck..not again.." he heard whisper. he was in the dark, hid quietly behind the large bin he just peered out from. he saw the way you pulled gloves out of your bag, as if you had planned this. you pulled stacy over to the bin he was at, before lifting her up and dumping it in. you knew the authorities will just assume this as another ghostface attack.

you then stumble out of the alleyway, running off into the night. ethan found it appealing, how incredibly attractive you sounded and looked. he knew this wasnt your first time.

★

" come on babe, we just talking. "

" didnt seem like talking to me aaron. "

" oh so we back on first names now? and you say youre the mature one. "

" says the one who told me that stacys someone i shouldn't worry about- "

" oh fuck off, you're just fucking insecure! " his voice ringed into your ear. you angrily hung up the call before heading to bed.

the next morning, you thought about what had happened. maybe shes not someone to worry after all. you decide to apologize to him to patch up your relationship even though your brain disagrees with it. you love him, after all, you would do anything for love.

" good morning babe.. i.. im sorry about yesterday. maybe i overreacted.. im coming over for dinner to make us something. how about that? " you left a voice note.

after getting ready for the day, your phone buzzed.

aaron<3

aaron : hey babe, i got your voice note. its fine, maybe i did too. sorry for saying such words to you, i don't mean any of that. id love that! see you tonight baby! <33

me : see you love!! xoxo

★

as you rummaged through your bag for the spare keys to aarons home, you realized you had left it at home.

" shit. uhh sweety? i forgot the keys, can you open the door for me? " you knocked on the door.

almost instantly, the door slightly open. you were confused, why didnt he just open in fully and engulf you in a hug like he usually did.

" babe? " you slowly push the door open, looking down as you wanted to remove your shoes. however you saw a silhouette of someone.

" aaron- oh my fucking god. " you step back as you watch you aaron dangling with his intestines wrapped around his neck, from the ceiling fan. blood spilled every where. by now the door behind closed to you pushing it shut.

as you take steps towards aaron, you cant help but cry out.

you tiptoed, hands on his bloodied cheeks and his eyes have been dug out, empty hollow filling the void. the once bright brown eyes you loved to look at is now gone. looking down at where his intestines would be, there was a note.. with his pair of eyes.

the note read : he should have kept his eyes on you.

" fuck.. aaron… please. " you wished and prayed that maybe, just maybe hed just wake up.

looking around, you wanted to pull aaron down so you could properly grieve. your hands move back and forward in the air as you hesitate to touch his intestines.

but then his arm moved, waving at you. you stumble backwards, falling to the floor as he spoke.

" i thought you liked touching me? " and a humorous laugh came after it. but his mouth didnt move an inch. before you know it, aarons body fell towards you, having you push yourself backwards. a figure, ghostface to be exact appeared before you.

" holy shit. " you cursed before lifting yourself to defend.

you run to the kitchen to find all the knives and scissors to be missing. nothing was there. you make a run to your shared room.

" fuck. " you realized you could have just ran out of the house since its still unlocked. once you locked yourself in the shared room, you knew this was going to be your last moment.

pounds on the door became louder with every passing second. you hid next to the door, where once he manages to open, itd hide you. then it happened, the door swung towards you, and you had a hand out to softly stop the door from hurting you.

when you peer your head, you watch as ghostface had his back turned to you. once you think its safe, you ran out the door, before reaching the main door handle. your hand touched it, held it, but your grip wasnt strong enough. ghostface was strong, too strong for you as he pulled you away from the door and pushed you hard against the wall.

you arched your back and moaned in pain in the process which made ghostface tilt his head slightly. your head felt like it was spinning.

" fucking kill me already. " you whimpered out, breathing staggered.

" dont you see? we both are the same. you killed your friend because she couldnt stop looking at aaron here because you love him. and i killed aaron cause i wanted to be the only one looking at you. just because. ill let you figure that your own. " he giggled, almost like how a shy boy would.

a.n : ta da!!! m very proud of this piece thank you very much, haha.

I haven’t played this stupid game in 6 months. This is a sequel to Prospects, this time featuring Bailey.

Agreement

The envelope shook in your hand. “This should suffice.”

Bailey took it from you, not bothering to meet your eyes as she slit the top and took the slip inside. Whitney, dressed for the ride ahead— or fight; whatever came first— in his sweats and t-shirt, stood with his back to the door. Despite your assurance, he had insisted on sitting in on this final transaction as if the mountain of cash you had worked yourself ragged to obtain would not be enough to settle the score, as if your being there were not dependent solely on your value as a worker, as if Bailey— who now looked up at you over the check between her fingers and her half-rimmed glasses— would care beyond that if you were gone.

The ground swayed beneath your feet.

Bailey leaned back in her chair, gesturing to Whitney with the check. “This was your idea?”

You could not bring yourself to look back at him, but you could imagine his expression. It was the same as when you had when you had met Briar and Avery a few days before; cool, unflinching, as though you were an item at a pawn shop he was trying to get a good price on. You supposed you were, in a sense. “Yes.”

Bailey nodded slowly, taking in your figure, your stance. You squirmed under her gaze. “And the child’s yours, I take it?”

“Yes.”

She considered as much. “You know,” she mused, “your… what would the word be? Fucktoy?”

He scoffed. “For our purposes, property.”

“Oh, hardly.” She leaned her elbows on the desk, fingers lacing together under her chin. “Not officially at least, not until our terms are settled.”

“What terms are there to settle?” You picked at your cuticles, heart pounding in your throat. “Is that not how much—“

“That’s how much my best earner was worth before.” Her smile was sweet like cough syrup, sharp like whiskey. “I’m a businesswoman you understand; it would hardly make much sense for me to part with my greatest revenue stream for its raw material costs.”

You looked back at Whitney. He kept his eyes trained on the woman in front of you. “And how much would it take for you to part ways with your charge?”

She sighed in mock contemplation. “Oh, I don’t know.” She sucked her teeth. “Another fifty percent ought to do it.”

The words echoed in your ears. You swallowed back panic as you went back to staring at the floor.

“Fifty?” His sneer was audible. “The fuck you take me for?”

“Someone desperate.” She gestured to you. “Someone willing to take when they can get and leave.”

“A bitch, you mean.”

“So long as we’re being frank.”

“You—“

“Do you know how much that child is worth?” You shut your eyes as you felt her own take you in. “Do you know what sort of market you could appeal to with a matching set?”

You heard a rustling of cloth behind you. Whitney’s voice was as cheerful and bright as you had ever heard it. “So long as we’re considering the lives of people that matter,” he smiled, “I’m curious; how much is your life worth?”

There was a pause, a laugh from Bailey. “That bitch,” she sighed. “First that file—“

“This actually isn’t Laundry’s, surprisingly enough.” You heard the clinking of metal parts as he gestured to you. “Friend of a friend who lives in the country; I promised him the deed to this shithole if your position found itself empty.”

Despite yourself, you turned to face him. He held the pistol in his hand with the confidence of a man unfazed by its weight. In the back of your mind, you wondered if he would be tried if he went through with it, whether the cops would come or care or whether they would write it off as the result of one of Bailey’s “ungrateful brats”. You could not for the life of you decide which would be preferable.

“So,” he continued, finger twitching, eyes shining, “I think it best if we tried renegotiating terms.” He gestured to you. “Either you take the money and I take your cash cow off your hands—“ He steadied his aim, “— or I redecorate your office with your insides and you get to find out whether the contents of that envelope are worth shit in hell.”

You cast your gaze back towards her. Bailey looked between the two of you, lips pursed. “You’re more desperate than I thought.” She pushed her glasses up her nose and reached into her shirt pocket. “Let me give you some advice, kid.”

You shut your eyes again at the click of the safety. “Hands where I can see ‘em.”

She pulled out a carton of cigarettes, tapping one out and sticking it between her lips. “He isn’t a better person than I am, you know.” She took a lighter off her desk. “He’s not going to take better care of you than I am, isn’t going to wish you off to some fairy tale land where you’ll never know hardship; if anything, he’s going to fuck you over harder than I do.” She lit it, took a drag, smiled, exhaled.

“You fucking—“

“And you.” She pointed the cigarette at him. “Whitney, yeah? You think your life’s going to get better by being a father?” She leaned her head on her free hand. “I’ve been stuck with this job for thirty years now; the only thing that thing—“ she waved the cigarette in your belly’s general direction, “— is good for is an accessory to the walking ATM it’s stuck in.”

You could hear his voice shake; with what, you could not tell. “So help me God if you say one more thing about my fucking kid—“

“Let me say my piece.” She stood up, taking another drag and blowing it in your face. “If I were you,” she sighed, “I’d see if Harper couldn’t make an exception to get that thing out of you while it’s not breathing. Short of that, I’d ship it here.” She leaned forward, resting her hand on the surface of her desk. “But if I ever find your brat at my doorstep,” she promised, voice lowering, “if I ever see you or that thing here again, I’ll make your time here look like a stay at the Ritz-fucking-Carlton.” She stuck the cigarette back between her teeth, tilting your head up to look her in the eye. The resemblance between her and Whitney was apparent; you wondered if that was just what the eyes of monsters looked like. “I will make your child pay for however much you would have made me twofold, and I will sell their body— whole or piecemeal— to any dumb fuck who asks for what I’m sure will be a pretty young thing like them. Do you understand me?”

You could not breathe.

Her grip on your jaw tightened. “Are you deaf?” She brought you closer, and you whimpered at the sensation. “I asked you a question. Do you understand me or don’t you?”

You shut your eyes as her nails dug into your skin. You dug your own into your palm as you forced yourself to nod.

She kept you there a moment— for what, you did not know— before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes shot open, and you swallowed back tears— of relief, of sadness, of panic— as she released you, collapsing to your knees and gasping for air. “Good.” She took the check, slipping it into her pocket before sitting back down. “Leave before I change my mind.”

You pulled yourself to your feet, practically tripping over yourself to cling to Whitney. He glanced down at you, letting you bury your face into his shoulder as he took one last look at your former guardian. Wordlessly, he pulled the two of you out into the hallway, past the children gathered by the door, past the garden and Robin and the stairs and the threshold and finally, with a smile of untempered relief and satisfaction, across the street, into the truck parked there, and away from that miserable town, and as you watched the buildings you had come to know as parts of your home flew past, as you watched people you recognized from school rush into the forest and students— like you, you registered vaguely, desperate for money, for purpose, for anything— lean against street corners, you wondered if this would be any better, if this was more desirable, if this was emancipation or a different, crueler kind of ownership.

You mumbled a goodbye to the bus stop as it passed. Only then did the tears really start.

lets be mean to dream

as usual there is no plot to be found here, only smut. i am so rusty and it shows but oh well, and also as per the usual, i'm welcome and you're sorry

It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment where things had changed, but somewhere along the way what had started as an uneasy sense of companionship had grown into something more. It still felt surreal, especially when he would be totally absorbed in his work for days or weeks at a time. He would always come back to you eventually though, and if his shoulders seemed a fraction heavier you'd be there, to give whatever he needed. Neither of you had said it out loud but when you were alone, every small and private surrender spoke louder than words ever could.

Not that words are on your mind right now, because he's kissing you, nestled in a secluded corner of the library, the surrounding shelves hiding you from view. There is a quiet desperation to it, the way he presses in close, as if getting close enough would let you somehow absorb what's on his mind. Despite holding the collective unconscious of every living being, he is remarkably bad at outright telling you what he needs. It's equal parts sweet and frustrating, because he isn't shy, not precisely. Going outside of his function and asking for something solely for himself still doesn't come easy, but if there's one thing you've learnt from your time together it's to be patient with him.

"Will you slow down a bit?" You hold him gently back, giving yourself time to catch your breath. It's a gradual thing, but finally he simply rests his forehead on yours, eyes closed, his unneeded breath ghosting across your cheek. This is another thing you've noticed, the way he deliberately seems to make himself more human when he wants something from you. For a moment neither of you speaks, then you sigh and bump his nose with yours. "I can tell there's something. Talk to me?"

"There is something. I want..." he trails off, hesitating for a split second. The word 'want' sounds almost foreign in his mouth, as if it doesn't belong there. Wetting his lips he continues, still not looking at you, "I want you to hurt me."

"I can probably do that, if you elaborate a bit."

While things in that area aren't new to you, he's never asked for anything like that before. The thought doesn't lack appeal though, your mind almost instantly goes to bruises, marking his flawless skin. It's not much of a surprise when he frowns.

"How so? It should be fairly obvious what I am asking for."

You do your best to not roll your eyes at him. This isn't the first time he's been impatient and vague, so it's perhaps not entirely successful.

"To you, maybe. But I'm going to need a bit more detail than that. You want me to hit you? Or, I don't know, call you names?"

"Yes." He doesn't offer any more specifics, but at least it's a start.

"To both?" That gets you a nod, but not much more.

At least you know that he's not being coy or trying to be an ass, it's just...how he is.

"Fair enough. But let's keep it light for now. I'm not going to punch you in the face or get a cane out, especially not here." It's not clear if he had been considering either of those things as options, but better safe than sorry. "You good with that?"

"That is agreeable enough, for now."

"Great. So..." you peck his cheek before slowly kissing your way down the side of his neck, lips barely brushing his skin. "Do you remember that time on the stairs?"

"How could I forget?" He shivers almost imperceptibly at your touch, his lips twitching into a small smile.

"Then you remember what we agreed back then?"

He sighs, leaning back against the shelves.

"Nightmare." When he speaks, his adam's apple bobs and you have to fight the urge to chase it with your mouth.

"Good." You kiss him again, deep and slow. And then you slap him.

It's barely a love-tap, one on each cheek, just to test how he responds. It's only a small hitch of breath, eyes fluttering closed for a second, and he doesn't stop you. If anything he leans into your touch, daring you.

"Again."

At the next few strikes his cheeks gain just a hint of colour, and you can't help but wonder what the rest of his skin would look like, flushed and pretty, all for you. The next blow ends up a bit harder than you intended, catching his mouth. You half expect him to stop you this time, but instead his eyes gain a glazed-over quality as he spreads his legs slightly. You do it again a few times on each side, letting yourself be a bit rougher until his lips are puffy and red, his teeth faintly stained with pink.

"You alright?" You know that you couldn't hurt him any more than he'd let you, but it's hard keeping a tiny sliver of worry out of your voice.

"Perfectly," he grabs your waist and presses himself against your hip, letting you feel him. Even through those tight jeans he insists on wearing, you can tell that he's hard. "Unless you deem this a cause for concern?"

The cheeky attitude probably warrants another slap but instead you slide your leg in between his, guiding his hips with your hands.

"Go on, then."

He only hesitates for a moment before grinding down on your thigh. It's entirely undignified, the way the height difference forces him to slouch down, knees bent in order to get more friction. As he ruts against you until he's slightly out of breath it's easy to forget that he isn't human. When you finally take pity on him and kiss him, his lips are almost fever-warm against yours and the faint taste of iron lingers on your tongue. You run your fingers over the growing damp spot on his jeans.

"If you want something more you're going to have to ask." You give him one last slap. "Unless you'd rather stop now?"

"No." He's not quite squirming, but he's still trying to rub against you. "Touch me."

Knowing what he means doesn't mean that you can't tease him, just a little. Instead of giving him what he wants you slide your hand under his shirt, to the smooth plane of his chest. You can feel his heartbeat against your palm, as if nothing but his skin is keeping you from closing your fist around it.

"But I already am?" Trying to keep your expression innocent, you lightly ghost your fingers across one of his nipples, back and forth. When he lets himself feel he's always so responsive and this is no exception, the little nub stiffening readily as he shivers under your touch. Figuring that now's as good a time as any to experiment a bit, you do the same to the other side but this time you drag a nail lightly across it as well. That earns you a low moan and a twitch of his hips.

"You know very well what I meant." There is no real annoyance in his voice though, so you let yourself play with him just a few moments longer. It's almost hard to stop, especially when it's so clear that he's enjoying this. When you give him a pinch he lets out a small gasp, brows knitting together. "Touch me."

You take your time undoing his zipper, the sound of the teeth parting loud in the quiet of the library. Finally, his erection springs free, throbbing in time with his heartbeat in the cool air.

"Poor Dream," you trail a finger over him, all the way from root to flushed tip, "that looks uncomfortable. Would you like me to help you?" Not waiting for an answer, you tap his mouth with your finger. "Open."

This time there is no hesitation, his lips parting eagerly to let your finger inside. When you add a second one, he accepts that just as well, letting you trace the edges of his teeth and the soft slickness of his tongue. You sigh to yourself, pinching his nipple again, making him pant around your fingers.

"You look lovely like this, you know. One more." Not wanting to push him too much, you settle on three fingers, gathering as much of his saliva as you can before pulling them from his mouth with a wet little 'pop'.

When you finally wrap your slicked-up fingers around his length he lets out a long shuddering breath. He's nice and thick in your hand, skin soft against your palm as you stroke him slowly from root to tip. Swiping your thumb over the slit causes his hips to buck, and when you tighten the grip so the dripping head pops through the ring of your fingers the noise he makes is a wavering broken thing.

"The mighty King of Dreams," you tease, "all it takes to turn you into a useless mess is someone getting their hands around your cock."

For a moment he almost looks annoyed, but when you twist your fingers around him, his mouth goes slack and all that comes out is a breathy moan, eyes falling shut. As you keep working his cock, the rest of his composure crumbles until he's like putty in your hands, desperate little sounds falling freely from his pretty mouth.

"Somebody could walk in at any moment, you know." Your eyes flick between your hand and his face. "What would your subjects say if they saw you like this, leaking like a sieve for me?"

Every time he gets close, you dial the touch back until it's feather-light, denying him release until he's trembling against the shelves, the steady dribble of precome forming a small puddle on the floor. As his cock starts to swell again you squeeze the base, holding him off one more time. He makes a frustrated noise and ruts uselessly against your hand, body tense like a bowstring. Cradling the back of his head you thread your fingers through his hair, pulling his head back.

"You really need to come, don't you?" Kissing your way down his exposed neck, you can't help but smile at how easily he falls apart for you when he gives in and lets it happen. "Do you think you deserve it, though? Because I'm not sure."

"You would leave me wanting?" He really must be getting painfully close, his voice barely more than a rasp, "I have never known you to be cruel."

"Ask nicely and I might let you." You circle the tip of his cock with the pad of your thumb, torturously slowly, careful not to end it just yet.

"Please?" His voice is breathless but still too firm for your liking and you tut disapprovingly, squeezing around his shaft, teasing.

"Please, what?"

"Please, let me come." This time he sounds almost desperate, and you figure that's good enough for now.

"Come for me then," you grab his chin, forcing him to look at you,"but eyes on me."

Rather than finishing him off quickly, you keep your pace slow and steady, patiently working him until he's right on that razor edge. His eyes are unfocused and so dark that they're nearly black but he does as he's told, letting you see every small change in expression as he gets close. He has either forgotten exactly where you are or simply stopped caring because when he finally comes, he is loud. Despite your earlier quip, you weren't keen on anybody actually walking in on you, though. Slapping your free hand over his mouth, you do your best to quiet his moans as he spills all over the marble floor.

"Shhh, love..." You hush him as you stroke him through it, dragging his release out until he sags against your shoulder, utterly spent.

When he gathers himself enough to lean back against the shelves, there is nothing regal about him, all wild hair and rumpled clothes, cheeks and mouth high with colour. It suits him though, the satedness in his eyes and almost relaxed set to his shoulders.

"Still good?" You kiss his cheek and gently tuck him back into his jeans, taking extra care with the zipper.

"You." He pulls you to him and buries his face in the crook of your neck. With a deep sigh, he continues, "You...indulge me, more than anyone I have ever known."

"No more than you do for me." You stroke his hair, but rather than smooth it down, it just seems to make things worse. It doesn't deter you though. When he presses a quick kiss to the side of your neck your heart just feels full, of him and the words that, while unsaid, hang almost palpable in the air between you. With his voice muffled against your skin, you can't really hear what he says next, despite straining your ears. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, next time you need not be so gentle with me."

Next time? You can hardly wait.

Hi I don’t know if you do poly Sinclair but if you do can I get a poly Sinclairs x female reader where they help take her out of a really loud place and help her with her anxiety attack?

I just had to step out of a room because I was beginning to have a bad anxiety attack and I just really need some comfort from my boys right now. But if you don’t wanna do it then that’s is fine! I don’t wanna pressure you or anything.

Hello here! I’m quite ashamed it took me so long to post this request!! I’m so sorry for the delay and I really hope you will enjoy this; as usual I tried my best <3

I also hope you’re feeling a lot better now <3

Warnings : mention of killing, panic attack, loud and a little bit violent crowd, a few strong words.

You had never seen Lester so excited like that before, and your heart was absolutely melting at the sound of his happy voice babbling out about this new band he discovered and how they will have a concert nearby tonight. You were giggling at the sight and when he asked you if you wanted to come with him, you just couldn’t say no to him.

The twins raised an eyebrow. Having their baby brother going out alone at a concert was one thing, but having the two of you doing God knows what was another one. And they knew how Lester and you could come up with bad ideas when you were left alone together. Plus, the twins didn’t like when you were away from Ambrose and away from them. They wanted you home, especially Vincent, since he couldn’t follow you out of Ambrose that easily. He was feeling too self conscious for that.

“You should come with us!” you told them, now as excited as Lester. They both shared a look, and it always fascinated you the way they seemed to talk telepathically when they were doing that. It always put Lester a little bit uneasy though, probably because it was making him feel like he wasn’t part of something. You softly took his hand under the table and stroked his knuckles as he gently smiled at you. You really were the best thing that ever happened to the siblings and that was why they had been forced to share you. 

Vincent finally shook his head and leaned against his seat, looking down at the table. He didn’t feel like going out of Ambrose, and knowing he would be surrounded by people… and loud ones… It really didn’t seem appealing at all. 

“Oh come on, it could be fun” you cooed at him and he shook his head again, so you turned toward Bo’s face. He clearly wasn’t too happy about it either but his protectiveness was too strong to let you go out with only Lester as your bodyguard. The only thought of you being around drunk young men was driving him crazy so he simply sighed before nodding.

“If it’s so important, I guess I’ll come. Vince can wait for us here. Anyways, it’s better with one of us stayin’, just in case” Bo offered and Lester got excited again. He knew you were magical, because his brother would have never come with him if it was only about him. But with you, everyone was trying their best.

“Jonesy will stay with you” Lester told Vincent to bring him some comfort and the masked twin smiled with his eye at his baby brother. He knew Lester was a sweetie. 

And before you all knew it, you were getting ready to leave for the concert for which Lester got three tickets. Bo and you decided to not ask how Lester got those tickets so fast when they were all sold out. Lester was so proud to be able to do that, and was in his very adorable excited puppy self. Even the twins didn’t have the heart to tease him or annoy him. They weren’t even sure Lester would realise anything anyways. He was almost jumping in happiness. You grabbed his hand, half afraid he was going to jump so high he would disappear in the sky, half because you were falling in love once again with him. You hugged Vincent goodbye and he held you a little bit closer than usual because he really didn’t like this plan. He was always overprotective with you, not that you minded. Bo followed Lester and you to his car, but not before he exchanged another look with his twin. Bo silently told Vincent that everything was going to be alright; big brother was going to watch over the idiot boy and the cheeky girl. It gave Vincent some comfort and he hid into his basement to forget how silent the town was getting now everyone was gone.

Lester was singing some of his favourite songs of the band in the car and you were singing the chorus. Bo was driving without a word. He was half amused by your bright behaviours but he would have much preferred to be in his armchair, watching a movie with his favourite people around (and you on his lap). 

When you arrived at the concert, you calmed down a little because there was something in the atmosphere and general ambiance that you didn’t like very much. You instinctively took Bo’s hand as you kept chatting with Lester. Bo moved closer to you, taking the hint you were now not feeling as at ease as before. He was glad he wouldn’t have to ask you to not leave his side. He wasn’t sure he would be able to find Lester or you in this crowd, and it was quite oppressing him as well. He was also relieved Vincent didn’t come as he wasn’t sure how his twin would have been able to stay calm in there. Lester navigated the three of you through the crowd and tried to find you some good places. Bo and you followed him without a word, focusing on not losing Lester. You quickly hated how many men were in the room and how they seemed to look at you. Maybe you were just paranoid or maybe they were really watching you like a potential prey. They were already all half drunk and going crazy with the anticipation of the beginning of the concert. You tried to pretend you didn’t notice anything and to calm down, but you were starting to feel your chest closing in on itself. You didn’t want to ruin the moment for Lester so you forced yourself to remain calm and to breathe in and out silently. Bo wrapped an arm around your shoulder, his protective side noting you needed some comfort. Lester quieted down a little bit and grabbed your hand to play with your fingers as well.

You thought it would all be better once the concert would be starting, and you were right, for the first half an hour at least. The music was good and you were forgetting about the crowd surrounding you, until a group started to go crazy. They were throwing beer bottles everywhere, loudly screaming and getting closer to the few girls in the audience. You tried very very hard to keep calm, but you could feel your boys tensing up because of those people. Bo grumbled under his breath and Lester sighed, quite annoyed. He really could only approve of his siblings murdering hobbies when people were so stupid, selfish and destructive. 

It wasn’t long before you started to have a panic attack. One of the bottles almost reached you and you started to not be able to breathe. You felt like the room you were in was getting smaller no matter how enormous it truly was. Your heart was beating really fast and adrenaline was pumping in your veins as you has the impression that the crowd and the loud noises were closing on you. You leaned against Bo when you started to be too dizzy to fully trust your legs. The boys didn’t even need to think about what was going on: they knew they needed to get you out of this place as fast as possible. Lester was good at finding the way through the cheering, loud and sometimes ominous crowd. When you finally reached outside and the fresh air, you almost collapsed on the ground. Lester and Bo helped you by sitting down against the wall of the building and they knelt in front of you to check on you. You barely noticed their looks of pure concern as you placed your head in between your knees, heavily breathing. Lester stroked your hair, in an attempt to appease you as Bo was gently breathing with you so you could match his calming pace. They stayed like that until you started to feel better. You moved your head and watched them for an instant before leaning against the wall, closing your eyes.

“Ok, love?” Bo asked and you softly shook your head

“Need some air” you whispered in a shaky and hoarse voice.

They both stood up and stepped back so they weren’t crowding you anymore. They watched over you and around them to make sure you were safe. Bo took his phone and sent a message to his twin, as he had promised Vincent to keep him updated.

After a little while, you felt better enough to stand up as well. Lester and Bo were quick to help you on your feet. 

“Hug” you mumbled and Bo wrapped his arms around in a very comforting way. It was warm and safe. He kissed the side of your head and held you even closer.

“Ya’re safe, love, it’s alright now.” he whispered to you and you nodded. You stayed like that for a little while again. You moved from Bo to hug Lester as well and he tightly cuddled you.

“I’m sorry, Les” you murmured to him and he shook his head

“Don’t be, darl. Wanna come back home?” he asked and you felt quite guilty so you shook your head.

“I feel better, we can go back to the concert if you want. You were excited about it” you told him, even if you were really not feeling like going back to it.

“Nonsense, we don’t go back in there” Bo replied as he placed a hand on your shoulder. “Vince’d kill me if he knew I let ya go back in there. Ain’t safe enough.” he continued and he turned toward Lester for him to agree.

“Yeah, people are shit. We should go back home. We can have our own little concert tomorrow night, at home, that way even Vince’ll be able to enjoy it” he offered and you weakly smiled at him

“You’re the best, Les” you told him and kissed his lips. He blushed and shrugged, before guiding you back to the car. You kissed Bo’s hand before sitting in the vehicle.

“Thanks for looking after me” you said

“That’s our job” Bo replied and you knew he meant it. 

Vincent was waiting for you outside the house, and he was quick to open your car door to bring you in his arms. He nuzzled your cheek as his hands roamed your body, scanning you for any injuries or discomfort. You knew he was a drama queen, but you let him do it.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I promise” you tried to smile at him. “You guys are just worriers” you teased and the three boys all hummed; they couldn’t deny that.

Taglist:

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@g0thl3zz

@erasable-mustache  

@cavern-creature

@peachycupotea  

@p0rn-stargirl  

@akemiixx01

💙Obey Me Headcannons + OC💙

Lucifer

He has a peacock tail in demon form and I refuse to believe otherwise

He preens his wings regularly but you'll often find his black feathers littering the House of Lamentations during certain parts of the year

He resists the urge to pet every dog he sees, big dogs? Yes. Little dogs? Yes, he likes all dogs but Cerberus is his favorite ofc

Sometimes you'll find him outside after he's finished with his work in the late hours of the night, seemingly talking to himself, but it feels more like he's talking to the Moon

Mammon

Surrender all of your shinies to him immediately he wants all of them, that a new shiny bracelet? It's his now. New sparkly necklace? Gone. Pretty hair clip you go recently? Do you even need to ask

He has a shiny object from all of his brothers as a keepsake, even one from Satan, who knows how he got it

Kleptomania™ your items are not safe

HATES magpies, he doesn't know why he just doesn't like magpies. He thinks they're jerks

Leviathan

When he found out about the existence of Hatsune Miku trough a Ruri-Chan collab he became a Miku fan too (Ruri-Chan is still forever tho)

Handcrafted cosplays out the wahzoo, expert craftsmanship, Asmodeus seems to really like this side of him

He made his own Ruri-Chan plushie, spent like 3 days on it because everything had to be perfect

You WILL cosplay with him, no ifs, ands or buts, PUT ON THE DRESS.

Satan

All of his bookmarks are cat themed or cat related

Sebastian Michaelis' best friend™

Sometimes, he has an inexplicable urge to bask in daylight for seemingly no actual reason other than it seems like a really appealing, sometimes he'll join Belphegor when he's sleeping in the sun

If you throw a cucumber at him he'll jump at least 5 feet into the air before yelling at you

Asmodeus

Owns an abhorrent amount of makeup, all of which will be going on your face

Who needs acrylic nails with claws like that? Girl bye

Unironically listens to Barbie Girl while doing his makeup, everyone can hear it in the morning,

He's a Mettaton kinnie trough and trough, he's got the glamor, the confidence, the bloodlust, the power, I wouldn't be surprised if he owned a pair of thigh hight hot pink heeled boots

Beelzebub

A very large, hungry, affectionate puppy

When he found out that humans make popcorn bags almost the size of a full grown man he BEGGED Lucifer to please get one for the next movie night

He got his popcorn in the end and was extremely happy about it, insert happy bear noises here

He likes looking at the Stars, they make him feel happy whenever he's alone, and finds comfort in watching them before he goes to sleep

Belphegor

Sometimes he'll have dreams of everyone together back in the Celestial Realm. They make him sad after he wakes up knowing it was just a dream but he enjoys them while they last.

Hypersomnia™

Wanna see someone get dragged like a ragdoll from one class to another while they're sleeping?

Always drinks a glass of warm milk before sleeping for like a week straight, good luck waking him up unless someone is literally dying

Yingpei

"MC please sit dOWN-"

Please stop giving him heart attacks for three seconds he can only handle so much at a time-

He doesn't understand any typical human slang, living in a village cut off from most of society turns out to disconnect someone from from your typical human being

There's something off about him sometimes, as if he knows more then he should for someone supposedly so disconnected from regular people, strangely enough, Lucifer seems to trust him, Solomon fears him to an extent

Adorable borders can be found here!

(ignore the tags)

A Witch Adrift

Chapter 3 - Food Before Fools

< Ch 2 | Ch 4 >

>Ch 1<

Masterlist

Ao3 Mirror

“Gwah! It’s pouring out there!”

You turned to see the same cat from earlier, sopping wet but its ear flames still burning strong. You barely had a chance to react before the cat shook itself dry, splashing a good amount of water on your face, as well as your clothes. Using one of your singed bell sleeves, you slowly wiped the water off your face, already exhausted from the long hour you had suffered through. A cackle made you pull your sleeve away, letting you see the cat laughing at you as if you were the best comedian it’d seen in ages.

“Bwahaha! That look on your face is priceless! Like a bat that got blasted by a water gun.”

‘...A what?’

“As if I wouldn't just sneak back onto campus the second I escaped pryin' eyes. You all got no idea what I'm capable of!”

‘No, I think I have a pretty good idea.’

“I ain't givin' up on goin' here just 'cause I got kicked out one measly ol' time. And if you think otherwise, you don't know Grim!”

“So, your name’s Grim, huh?” I guess I should know that with how many times he’s called himself such. “Why are you trying so hard to get into this cul–school?” Because I seriously don’t see the appeal. Though perhaps I’m just biased considering I was kidnapped, almost killed, and then placed in a sorry excuse for a dorm.’

“I was born to do this! I'm a magical prodigy who's got the makin's to become one of the greatest mages who ever lived! So I've been waitin' and waitin' for that black carriage to come for me. And yet…” He sniffled a little, as if trying to hold in tears.

‘Well now I feel a little bad for him. He looks like a kid that dropped their ice cream.’

“Hrmph! That Dark Mirror's got no eye for talent!” He schooled his expression fairly quickly. “That's why I took the initiative and came here myself. You humans don't understand what a mistake you're makin'! Not lettin' me in is a great loss to the world!”

“Well, I have to agree with you on the Dark Mirror part. After All, it decided to kidnap me, and I can’t do any of that flash-bang-boom magic you’ve been throwin’ around.” ‘But I can do other magick… I wonder if they have my kind of magick here… I’ll have to do some research later…’

“Wha? You can’t use magic? Pfft! You’re useless–MRRAO!” Grim shrieked some water dripped on him, a quiet hiss sounding as his ear flames instantly evaporated it. “Mrrao! C'mon, scoot over! I'm getting dripped on here!” He moved out of the way, but it was no use as another drop hit him from a different leak. “Bwah! Another hole in the roof! These flamin' ears are like my trademark, y'know? I can't let 'em get doused!”

‘Instant karma, bitch. That’s what you get for being rude.’ You sighed, “I guess I’ll go looking for some buckets.”

“I dunno why you don't just magic those holes away. You could have it fixed in half a jiff.

Ahhh, right. You can't use magic at all.”

‘You know what? I take back what I said about feeling bad for him.’

“Yeah, yeah, I can’t make things go boom, I get it. If you’ve got such a problem with the leak, why don’t you fix it yourself, you knock-off Pokémon?” You said over your shoulder as you walked to the door to collect one of the bowls from outside.

“Heh? You want me to help you? Ha! You got the wrong idea. I'm just a stranger takin' shelter from the rain. You ain't the boss of me. And what’s a Pokémon? If it’s something that helps humans, then I definitely ain’t one of them. I don't work for free.”

“How about you help me and I won't kick you out, hmm? How does that sound for compensation?” This cat was quickly getting on your nerves.

Grim didn’t give you a chance to act on your threat, dashing underneath the couch by the stairs. “Y-you can’t threaten me, human!”

You sighed, not about to deal with pulling a cat out from hiding, especially not a magic cat. “Alright, well, don’t blame me if there’s deadly mold under there,” you said, hearing a little yelp under the couch, followed by the scrambling of paws. You smirked to yourself, “I’m off to go find some pots or buckets.”

You peered into a nearby hallway, feeling anxiety returning to you as you stared down the long, dark corridor. ‘This feels like a horror game, and I hate it.’ You tentatively took one step forward and then another, the rotting floorboards creaking with even the slightest amount of weight pressing down on them. You made it about five slow steps in before you felt the temperature of the room suddenly drop.

 ‘I just had an interesting thought: Actually, fuck this.’ You spun on your heel with false bravado, your entire body now tense. As you stiffly walked back towards the lounge, you froze in place as you felt the familiar tingle of eyes watching you. ‘Okay. Don’t look back. Just… Just keep walking. If you look back, you’ll die, according to horror movies. Put one foot in front of the other.’

It turns out it didn’t matter if you looked back or not because three ghosts suddenly appeared in front of you. They… didn’t look how you’d expect ghosts to look like. These ones looked more… cartoonish. They weren’t half as scary-looking as some of the monsters you’d seen in Scooby-Doo.

‘Ghosts huh. Surprised I can see them. Or maybe that’s normal here.’

“Yee hee hee... Bwa ha ha ha ha ha,” One of the ghosts attempted to laugh menacingly.

“We haven't had visitors in ages!” 

“Oh, I'm just itchin' for new friends! Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

“Hey, Grim?! Is it normal to see ghosts?!” You shouted, temporarily ignoring the ghosts.

‘I need to know if this is normal or if I’m just hallucinating from stress.’

You hear the small pitter-patter of tiny footsteps against the damp floor. “Hah? Ghosts? What are ya talking’ about, dumb hum–AAAAAH! GHOSTS! GHOOOOOOSTS!” Grim screamed in fright after he turned the corner.

‘Guess I’m not crazy then… Should I be scared?’

“All the people who used ta live here got scared of us and ran away.”

“We just want a new ghost to play with! What do you say, buddy?”

“Eeeeep!” Grim shrieked, terrified of the cartoonish ghosts.

“Uh-huh… Yeah, no, I’ll have to pass on that.” ‘Plus, last I checked, ghosts can’t kill you. Unless they can use magic. I hope they can’t use magic when they’re dead.’

“I'm a master sorcerer! I ain't afraid of any dumb ghosts! Myahaaa!” With his eyes closed, Grim shot a stream of flames up in the air, narrowly missing your head while completely missing all of the ghosts.

“Wah–Grim! Careful!”

“Nuh-uh. Not even close.”

“Over here! Over here! Ah ha ha ha!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault they keep disappearing and reappearing!” Grim shouted at you as the ghosts continued to taunt him as his attacks kept missing.

“Well maybe if you stopped pretending to be blind and kept your eyes open, you wouldn’t miss!” You shouted back. “Now stop trying to burn the dorm down! Fire isn’t super-effective on ghosts in the first place! Don’t you have any other magic?”

“Shaddup! I don't need any lip from you, human!”

“Ugh, I don’t have time for this. If you burn the building down you’ll never be allowed to even go near this school, you know? And maybe if you get rid of the ghosts the headmage will let you enroll for your grand achievements, hmm?”

“Myah...?! Hmph, then what am I supposed to do, huh, human? If I don’t blast them, they won’t leave us alone! Not like you can do anything; You’re magicless!”

“Here, I’ll aim you so,” You picked him up and he mewled in displeasure. “Fire when I say so!”

“Mrrgh, fine! But only because it’ll show off my greatness! Don’t go thinkin’ it's because of you, human!”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s another achievement under your belt, oh great Grim. Now stop talking and fire!”

You spent the next few minutes pointing Grim at ghosts and watching as he burnt them. It was odd to think about holding a living flamethrower in your hands, especially one that would complain between each use. Turns out magic cats can also get dizzy.

“Nice! That actually worked! Hey, human! What should I do next?” Grim turned his head to look at you. “Give 'em the works? Heh! Can do!” He didn’t even give you a chance to respond before spewing out more fire. “Myaaah... Eat THIS!”

“Hwaaahhh! We gotta get out of here! Before we get disappeared for good!” The ghosts fled, vanishing into thin air.

“H-huh? Did we... win?”

“Yep, so you can open your eyes now,” you carefully put Grim down on the floor, watching as he struggled for a second to get his balance.

“Aw, geez, I was scared outta my–I mean, they didn't faze me one bit! Just a walk in the park for a mage of my caliber! Whaddaya got to say now, ghosties? That's right!”

‘Well, if nothing else, he definitely has the attitude of a cat.’

Now even more exhausted in every sense of the word and with no buckets in spite of your, admittedly minimal, efforts in searching, you and Grim head back to the lounge. You waste no time collapsing on the couch Grim had hid under earlier, a small cloud of dust erupting from the disturbance.

‘I’d love to sleep in a bed, but I can’t help but think about bed bugs and mold infesting the rooms… I really don’t wanna be here anymore.’

The pleasant quietness of the room, save for the comforting pattering of rain, was a nice contrast to the scream-fest Grim had with the ghosts. The silence was regrettably interrupted by Crowley magicing open the door again, the loud squealing of the hinges grating on your ears. 

“Good evening. In another gesture of my immense kindness, I have brought you dinner.” In one hand he held a bag and the other he used to close the door and place the coffee table strewn across the room in front of you, right-side-up, all with magic, of course. He placed the bag down on said table and looked up at you, only to see Grim sitting on the couch next to you, “Wait. That's the creature we ejected for causing trouble at orientation! What is it doing here?!”

Grim stood up, placing his paws on his hips. “Takin' care of yer ghost problem, that's what. You're welcome, by the way! Ya better gimme some tuna as a reward!”

Crowley was about to respond, but you quickly butted in, “Mr. Crowley, it’s easier to just go along with him, so please, don’t argue.”

Maybe it was because of how tired and awful you looked, but Crowley heeded your request. “Well, I do seem to recall that this dorm had a mischievous ghost problem. Ah, yes... That's why it was abandoned, in fact. The ghosts scared away all the students. And you're saying that you two joined forces to drive them away?”

‘Ah, I see. You oh so conveniently forgot that this manor was haunted by ghosts. How does somebody just forget that a place is actually haunted?’

Crowley continued to talk as you started to unpack the takeout containers from the bag. Out of the three containers, the round one, typically meant for soups, caught your attention. It smelled absolutely divine. 

"’Joined forces’ ain't exactly how I'd describe it. More like I drove 'em away, and the human watched,” Grim bragged.

“Well, someone had to watch and aim for you, seeing as you kept your eyes closed the whole time,” you said with a little sass.

“Would you two be so kind as to demonstrate your ghost-eradication methods for me?”

You gave Crowley an unamused stare, about to open the food containers. ‘Is this some new kind of torture? Bringing me freshly cooked food and then distracting me until it becomes lukewarm and unpleasant?’

“One, no, 'cause I already wiped 'em all out. And two, no, 'cause where's my tuna?!” Well would you look at that. It seems you and Grim agree on something. 

“I will play the part of the ghosts. As for the tuna, you'll receive it when you defeat me. Oh, what generosity, Crowley…”

“W-wait, wait a minute–Mr. Crowley, I really don’t think this is a good idea!” You tried to protest. The ghosts were one thing since they couldn’t crash into anything, but having a fight with a physical being in a run-down place like this did not seem like a good idea. This dorm was just waiting for an excuse to collapse.

“Nonsense, it’ll be fine! Now, to chug this transmutation potion!” Disregarding your concerns, Crowley pulled a potion out of nowhere and took no time to uncork and down it.

“Ah, you gotta be kiddin' me,” Grim whined. “I gotta work together with the human again?”

“Grim, please, just put up with it. The sooner we do this, the sooner we get to eat.”

“Hrmph. All right, but this is the last time. And I better be up to my jowls in tuna afterwards!”

You stood up and made a point to walk away from the table with all your food on it, watching as the headmage slowly turned transparent, transforming into a ghost version of himself.

‘So you can just turn into a ghost by drinking something in this world? Hmm, interesting. I mean, there’s no way to do that back on Earth unless you drank…poison…’ You came to a ghastly realization. ‘Did he… did Crowley just kill himself? To become a ghost? What? No, that can’t be; he’s too calm. Also, who’d kill themselves for something as stupid as this? …Well, I suppose I won’t have to worry about him running into anything at least.’

Crowley didn’t wait around before he began his assault, causing you to quickly snatch up Grim to use as a sentient flamethrower once again. Seeing as Crowley was probably much more well-versed in magic, and perhaps combat as well, than the ghosts, the fight was much harder, despite there only being one of him. When seemingly satisfied with what he saw, or maybe the potion’s duration was up, Crowley backed off and transformed back into a corporeal being.

Grim was panting from exertion, tired from the back-to-back battles. “Hah…Well? How was that?”

“Incredible... I've never seen anyone bend a monster to their will quite the way you have,” Crowley said, actually impressed by you but in a positive way.

‘This man’s definitely never played Pokémon. Which’d make sense since it’s another world, but still. What sad lives these people must live. Guess I’ll just have to become a Pokémon trainer and show these magic people what they’re missing out on.’ For the first time since you arrived in this strange world, you felt lighter, hopeful, even. Maybe you could find a whole team of magical monsters; who knows what creatures exist here?

You sat back down on the couch, the food thankfully undisturbed from the fight. Crowley picked up a turned-over rocking chair and placed it on the opposite side of the table from you, taking a seat. Starved, you did not hesitate to grab the spoon from the set of silverware and chopsticks Crowley had brought with him and opened the soup container. A puff of delightful-smelling steam escaped as you opened it; your mouth started to water. It was an opaque, yellow-orange soup with thick noodles. You dipped the spoon into the broth and brought it to your lips. Without bothering to blow on it, you quickly slurped it up, a familiar taste hitting your tongue. Miso.

“I must confess, my educator's intuition did sense something about you after the brouhaha at orientation, (y/n).

‘...Brouhaha? What? What even is that?’

I could tell you had a certain animal trainer-y, beast master-ish quality to you. Oh, yes.

That said, I…” Crowley trailed off, mumbling to himself, coming up with some absurd idea, no doubt.

“A trainer, huh?” You mumbled before putting down your spoon on one of the napkins you pulled out of the bag. “Mr. Crowley, what if… what if I became Grim’s trainer?”

“Oh?” Crowley sounded intrigued.

“Myngyaah?! What are ya talking about, dumb human! I ain’t anybody’s to train, especially not by you!” Grim, on the other hand, was extremely offended.

“Hold on, lemme finish speaking first,” you said to Grim, but it did not placate him in the slightest. “Mr. Crowley, if I became Grim’s trainer, would you let him enroll in the school?”

“WHAT? A monster?! Stay here!?” Crowley’s interest quickly became disbelief.

“Whoa, did you just...?” Grim also looked at you in disbelief, but he looked more so touched by your actions.

“I’m magicless and new to this world. Seeing as there are ghosts, who knows what else there may be. I need someone to help protect myself, assuming you won’t be able to always be around to help me.” ‘Plus, it’s hard to catch pokemon if you don’t have one of your own.’ You grabbed the chopsticks, dipping them into the soup to grab one of the noodles. The udon noodles were just as delicious as the soup. This was the perfect comfort food you needed after today.

“Hmmm... I suppose I cannot deny your plea. Very well,” Crowley agreed, a little reluctant, but unable to refute your reasoning.

“Myah?! Really?”

“Let me be clear!” Crowley didn’t let Grim celebrate too soon. “Under no circumstances would I admit anyone to Night Raven College who has not been selected by the Dark Mirror– especially not a monster!” 

‘Is the Dark Mirror really so important that its selection is a criteria considering that it was apparently responsible for summoning me? It also didn’t say I couldn’t be a student. It just said I wasn’t suited for any of the dorms.’

“Nor do I intend to allow you, (y/n), to freeload until you're able to return home.”

‘...Excuse me?’ You stopped eating and sat up straight, giving Crowley a death glare.

“Hrmph. Never shoulda got my hopes up…” Grim grumbled.

“N-Now, allow me to explain,” feeling your intense glare, Crowley backtracked, quickly starting to elaborate. “It was the Dark Mirror that transported you here.Therefore this school does bear some responsibility for your well-being. So I will allow you to remain in this dorm, free of charge. However, you will need to pay for your own food, clothing, and incidentals. As to how you will do so, penniless as you are... Ah. Ah ha. Yes, a fine plan. How about I have you do some odd jobs around campus?”

Crowley was about to keep talking but you cut him off, “I’m sorry, what?”

“W-Well, you see, I can’t just allow a magicless person who is not a student to just stay here, it would–”

“Oh, no, we are not doing this.” Anxiety be damned, you were too tired and fed up with today to stop your words from coming out. “It was your mirror that brought me to your school, of which you are the oh-so-gracious headmage of. As far as I’m concerned, you kidnapped me! So, you are going to take responsibility for your subordinate’s actions.”

“Well, the Dark Mirror is not so much my sub–”

“Shut it and don’t interrupt me.” Crowley closed his mouth real fast. “Now listen here, you ostentatious birdman,” You leaned forward, glaring straight into the yellow pinpricks that you assumed were his eyes. “You ripped me from my home, a world of the mundane with none of this dangerous magic you show off all the time like it’s nothing. What’s more, you’re saying you can’t send me back. You expect me to live in this dilapidated building, which definitely has more than a few health and safety violations, and on top of that, work in order to simply survive? I have nowhere to go. I am stuck here and I know nothing of this world. For all I know, if I even try to leave, there could be some other monster lurking around off campus that’s ready to kill me and have me as its next meal. I don’t think you realize just how terrified I actually am! This situation I’m in, it’s as if I’m stuck in a prison and you’re trying to use me as free labor in exchange for the right to live! If this is a school of magic, that means everyone I may pass by on this campus could kill me with a flick of the wrist, whether on purpose or on accident, and I can do nothing about it!” You sniffled, feeling your nose start to run as tears start to fall from your eyes. Everything has been so overwhelming, and this was the last straw that broke you. 

“I’m all alone, Crowley. I have nobody! I have nothing! These clothes aren’t even mine! Don’t you see?! You’re making it so that I have no choice but to listen to you! Because if I don’t, you can rip everything away from me!” You can feel a bubble rising in your chest. You struggle to get your words out as you start to hiccup between them, trying to keep the sobs in. You pause before trying to speak more calmly. “Listen, Crowley… I’d be happy to work for you, truly, but,” you take in a stuttering breath, “I don’t know if I can trust you. Who’s to say you won’t try and extort me? I know nothing about you or this world. I don’t know what’s considered fair or common sense, here. I am completely and utterly alone.” You’ve fully broken down into sobs at this point.

You bury your face into your hands and just cry. Crowley flounders a bit, unsure of how to comfort a person in this situation. It’s not everyday that he has to figure out how to comfort what is essentially an alien. He settles for just placing a hand on your shoulder in comfort, patting you a few times as if to say ‘there there.’ Grim seemed just as, if not more, confused about the situation than Crowley, and opted to just not do anything. It takes a couple minutes to compose yourself, sniffling as you right yourself back up. Crowley slowly removes his hand, his face twisted in a worried frown.

“Sorry, I just–” you sigh, “today has been a lot.” Another sniffle. “At the very least, I need this all to be put in writing in a contract with a separate party as a witness to make sure the conditions are fair.”

Crowley’s face softens at you. “Of course.”

“And, if I could ask, could you please at least supply me with the necessities for the first week? As you said, I have no money, so I have no way to care for myself.”

“Yes…I’m sorry, it seems I failed to comprehend the situation from your point of view.” Crowley’s shoulders slumped a bit out of guilt.

You sniffled again, rubbing the vestiges of tears from your eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Crowley.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t expect my common sense to apply to you either, what with you being an alien.”

“Oh, yeah… That reminds me of some other concerns I had.” You saw Crowley tense a bit. “But that can wait until tomorrow.” He relaxed again. “For now, can I just ask you to maybe bring me some soap and a change of clothes.

“Oh, um, ahem, yes of course. I’ll bring you some right now,” Crowley moved to stand up, but you stopped him.

“Just– just bring them tomorrow morning. I’m sure we’re both tired after today. We can talk about my other concerns then, yeah?” You gave him a weak smile.

He awkwardly smiled back, “Yes, well then,” he cleared his throat, “I shall see you in the morning.”

Standing up fully, Crowley turned and walked towards the door. He glanced at you over his shoulder once more. You gave him a small wave goodbye. He nodded and opened the door to the main hall, gently closing it behind him. For the first time since you met him, he didn’t use magic to open the door.

A while after Crowley left, you managed to finish off the soup. Your appetite had disappeared after the argument, so you had to force yourself to eat. You had offered Grim some of the food, which he readily accepted, polishing off all the food in one of the containers in a heartbeat, finishing long before you did. You looked at the last full container still on the table, definitely cold by now. You slowly stood up, grabbing the leftovers and started to wander. If you could find a kitchen, there might be a fridge. Luckily, the kitchen was through the door on the wall to the right of the fireplace, so you didn’t have to look around for long. You were worried about there being no electricity to power the fridge, or worse, to find old, rotting food in it. You were surprised, however, to find the fridge running and empty, the chill coming from it hitting your skin when you opened them. The quiet hum of electricity was missing, though, and was strangely off-putting. Perhaps the fridge was magic-powered? Just when you thought you found something familiar, it turned out to be different. You quietly put the food away and walked back into the lounge.

The rain was still going strong, the occasional rumble of thunder resounding in the distance. With a yawn, you considered going upstairs to look for a bedroom that wasn’t falling apart or wet. With how sore your body was, you winced with every step up the stairs. You could hear the light pattering of Grim’s footsteps following you, a yawn leaving his mouth. It took a few doors before you found a room that was in a passable condition. It was in a state of disarray, but the ceiling wasn’t dripping and the windows were intact. It even had a fireplace. The only part that made you uneasy was the obnoxiously large mirror above said fireplace.

‘Hmm… I don’t know if that mask can travel between mirrors to spy on people or not. Plus, mirrors are gateways and this is a magic world, so who knows what sorts of things could come through a mirror of that size… I better take it down sometime.’

Ignoring the mirror for now, you approached the bed and pulled off the covers, lifting then snapping it a couple times to shake all the dust off. Spreading it back over the bed, you did the same with the singular pillow before also placing it back. Sitting down on the bed, you gently took off your shoes and placed them to the side as Grim jumped up and made himself comfortable on the pillow. The only pillow. You gave him a deadpan look.

“What?” He asked, genuinely confused.

You sighed, “Grim, if you really want a pillow, could you please go and grab one from one of the other rooms?” You carefully nudged Grim, trying to gently coax him off your pillow. “I’m too tired to put up with you right now.”

With a grumble, Grim jumped off the pillow and landed on the center of the bed. The wooden bedframe whined before breaking, making Grim yelp as it fell through to the floor. You stared at it for a few seconds but shrugged it off. A bed was a bed. You picked Grim up and placed him on the ground.

“H-Hey! What gives?!” Grim protested as you climbed under the covers and laid your head down on your rightly earned pillow. Seeing as you kept ignoring him, he grumbled before curling up against your side instead, seemingly also too tired to get back up. It didn’t take long for sleep to take you, the sound of rain and thunder lulling you into your dreams with a sense of security. Whether it be false or not, only time would tell.

A/N: If any of this chapter feels vaguely familiar, it’s because I recycled some of the old text into this chapter. Not a lot, but I decided to keep the parts I liked. I’m hoping to give Crowley a deeper character than what we see in the first few parts of the game. He feels super unreliable and if he’s supposed to be handling important documents, then he should be at least a little more reliable. You know, just have him act more like an adult.

Here’s the ramshackle dorm layout I’ll be using and referencing in this fic. Reader’s/MC’s room is 203.

Edited

purple roses and baby breaths

pairing: Haitani Ran x Reader

synopsis: Haitani Ran and you went out on a date after overlooking Roppongi at the hills last night, a continuation of Part 1 (You don’t really need to read the first part to understand the story but there are some parts that will make you understand them better)

tw: fluff, Haitani Ran was mentioned as a whore, Bonten Haitani Ran, foul words, mentions of unaliving people, cute Ran, Rindou and Sanzu being an absolute menace again, all the Bonten higher ups, not beta read.

w.c : 3.5k

a/n: Halu! So here it is a part 2 of my first Haitani Ran fics! I didn’t expect someone would ask for a part 2 and after thinking about it, I managed to write some and surprisingly it was quite long. I’m so happy my fics are going well, and so many people are liking it, it truly made my day. I realized I'm getting a bit better in writing, and I also managed to explain, or rather ‘show’ a bit better than before. Thank you so much for those who read my writings and I’m sorry if this is not up to expectations. Have an amazing day!

Haitani Ran have been staring at his own reflection on the mirror for the 20th time that morning, literally 20 times. The first time he checked his reflection is by the mirror in his bathroom, he had washed his face, put on those skincare Kokonoi told him about, it could get rid of all those ugly blemishes on your face, he said but really Ran’s skin has always been clear, aside from little pimples here and there. Ran also made sure his face is clean shaven and free of stubbles.

The second time he checked the mirror is by the one in his walk-in closet, he was picking out clothes to wear. His first option is his casual suit, that always make him look attractive but that shows too much ‘business’ in his opinion. The second option was a black button up with black slacks, but he thinks he still look like he’s doing business. Then came his third option, black turtleneck, and brown slacks.

Once Ran put it on, he smiles at himself because its perfect he thought. The turtleneck covers his Bonten tattoo, yet at the same time showcase his beautiful body line in which he flexes his muscles shamelessly, nodding at himself because he already looks hot as hell. He then chooses a Patek Phillipe watch he bought recently, accompanying his share of accessories are the small hoop earring on his left ear while the right ear is don with a long earring. He chose a brown leather Oxford to complete his overall look.

The third time he checked his mirror is the one on his vanity, he sat down on the vanity seat, wondering what hair style should he go for. Let the hair free and fluffy or his usual slicked back hair? He chose his usual slicked back hair because of course, that’s the best style for him. Ran then spritz some La Nuit de l'Homme from Yves Saint Laurent; his favorite brand and as always, Haitani Ran smells like sex appeal on legs. Ran was going to stand up but he remembered Kokonoi telling him that he should put on some lip balms because of his ugly ass cracked lips and so he did, put on some lip balms because, who knows what will happen right.

After the 20th time of checking himself out because truly he wants to look his best for the little lunch he’s having with you, or in another word, a date after 2 years of simple hook ups.  So of course, he wants to look his best yet everyone and the goddamn fly in his room knows he’s just nervous and woke up at 8 in the morning because he’s finally going on a date after 2 freaking years. Ran then walked out of his room and went to the lounge room to chuck some alcohol in his system because his nerves are buzzing like crazy.

Ran was greeted by all, yes all, of the Bonten higher ups in the lounge room, discussing about some new business they’re trying to get into. You see, it has been a very long time since they saw Ran smiling like an idiot by himself, as well as seeing the clear, excited bounce on his feet coming into the lounge room. It was of course his own brother who called him out first, Haitani Rindou.

“And why are you smiling like that?”. Ran glances to his brother and continues to smile, albeit creepily in Rindou’s opinion. Sanzu was looking at Ran up and down, noticing how nice he looks and the smell of Ran’s fragrance was intoxicating enough that he, who was sitting on the couch a few meters away from him, can smell it.

“Its like you’re going out on a date for the first time in what? 2 years?”. It was silence. Pure silence as Ran’s smile before turns into a bashful grin because yes, it is a date. Kokonoi and Sanzu gasps loudly, while Rindou’s eyes were as huge as saucers because his whore of a brother is going on a date. Kakucho only nodded in understanding whilst Akashi and Mochizuki raise a drink to Ran’s new date, chuckling between themselves.

“So, who is it? This unlucky date of yours?”. Mikey asked while he munches on some sweets, interested in the date Ran’s going because truly, Ran is a certified Bonten whore yet someone manage to snag a date with him.

“Oh, its just someone I met last night. They were cute and can you believe it? They don’t know shit about me despite going to our club at Roppongi.”

“That’s definitely new, usually people who come know its our territory.” Ran nodded at Rindou’s remark as he continues.

“Yeah, they told me they came to the club because they’re curious.” A puzzled look was bare on all of the Bonten higher ups face. “Curious of a goddamn club because they never went there.” Sanzu burst out laughing because who would have thought someone would be going to a club because they’re curious.

“Okay my dear Bonten members, I, Haitani Ran, is going out on a date.” Ran said, walking away from the crowd though suddenly he stopped and turn around, his eyes squinting and with a pointed finger he declares. “If any of you shits, tries to pull any stupid shit, you best know I’ll bust your ass. So, Rindou, Sanzu, you bet I’m going to crack your skulls if the both of you do something dumb that can ruin the date.” Rindou held his hands up, gesturing that he’s not going to do anything while Sanzu flips him off, telling him to fuck off.

Haitani Ran were driving to your apartment when he feels as if something is missing. He tries to recollect anything he forgot but he was sure that he have bring his wallet with him and there’s nothing else that he forgets. He was driving by the streets of Roppongi when he saw a lady with a bouquet of flower in her hand and it clicks, no date is complete without flowers. Ran then went over to a flower shop and bought you a bouquet of flower, a mix of light purple roses and white baby breaths. The old lady from the flower shop told him that the one receiving the flowers is very lucky which flares his ego. Once he arrived in front of your apartment, he sends you a text saying that he already arrived. During the waiting, he checks out his appearance again, running his hair back, smelling himself because he has to make sure he smells good because hygiene is important kids.

Ran is, without a doubt, nervous, his hands were getting clammy and he could feel butterflies rampaging in his stomach. The seconds waiting for you is getting to him and it made him really wonder if this is the right thing to do. His doubt was gnawing at him because first, he’s a gang member, a notorious one at that, and you’re just a normal human being. Two, he hasn’t gone on a date for so long, he forgotten how it should really go on, and third, all the relationships he had, never lasted over a month.

The lilac haired man was having the crisis of his life when his door open, and in you come with a small hi and a sorry for being late and all those doubts and questioning he had were out of the door, and shut tight because, holy shit. Beautiful is an understatement of how you look, your soft hair, styled perfectly, your shy smile you gave him managed to pump his blood faster than it should be and you guys didn’t even coordinate yet you’re wearing brown too but instead of black and brown, you went for white and brown.

“Ran? Are you okay? Why are you so red?”. You asked while placing a hand on his cheek, a look of worry is evident on your face. Ran sigh at your cool hand as he smiles, and nodded, telling you that he’s more than fine.

“Its nice meeting you again (y/n)”. Your lips curled up again as you reply.

“Yes, its nice meeting you again Ran.” Suddenly, Ran turn around and probe around for something in the back seat, when he come back with a bouquet of flowers for you. You gasp as you took the bouquet in your hand and smell it. The smell was of course divine but you were touched at the fact that he bought you flowers. You giggle in glee as you thank Ran, and give his hand a squeeze.

“I’m glad you like them. Now, shall we go for our lunch?”. You nodded as he pushes on his gas pedal and off the both of you go. It was silent, the ride between the two of you but it was not awkward in the slightest. Ran noticed you were smelling the flowers while looking out at the scenery, the soft music of Get You by Daniel Caesar can be heard, and Ran smiles to himself. It felt complete, nice, like a piece of that thing he was searching through the beds of the people he stayed in. Who would have thought that piece was found by looking over Roppongi last night? Who would of that piece he searched for two years tirelessly is now sitting beside him, on the way to have some lunch?

Yeah, he would have never thought of that.

The both of you arrived at a sushi restaurant, further away from Roppongi and is near the nature. Ran thought that he didn’t want anyone to disturb him and his date, especially those pesky bugs at Bonten. Ran went out of the car and jogged to your side of the car and open the door for you. You hold onto his hand that he held out, giving him another heart stopping smile, according to Ran, as he locks the car. You thought Ran were going to let go of your hand but instead he continued holding onto it, even locking it together.

“I have a reservation for two, the name’s Haitani.” The waiter nodded as she led the both of you into the beautiful restaurant. The restaurant’s motif was clearly to bring out the beauty of nature where wood is mainly the theme of the restaurant. The both of you were given a seat outside that overlooks the beautiful nature scenery.

And of course, Ran being the surprising gentleman he is, pulled out the chair for you and you swear your heart is screaming at how sweet he is. He asked you on what you wanted to order, in which you told him to surprise you. Ran gave you a smirk as he continues ordering while you chose to finally admire him. Truth be told, you were a nervous wreck, Haruki, being the sweetheart, she is chose to help you get ready and she did an amazing job. You look and feel attractive, and by the looks and act of Ran, you wish to believe he thought so too.

You noticed how much more handsome Ran is today, with his black turtleneck perfectly accentuating his beautiful body line and those wide shoulders. His accessories though minimal were perfect for him, especially the long earring, it made his side profile look so much sharper. You then went on ogling his hands, his long fingers and veiny hands made you salivate a bit, who wouldn’t like nice looking hands right?

Ran were not oblivious of course, he noticed you were watching him, admiring him and now that you were looking intensely at his hands, along with the reddening face of yours, he realized that he might as well give you what you want. Ran’s hand slowly glides over the table separating the both of you as he laid out his hand in front of you.

“You want to hold my hands?”. You look up at him and with a flutter of your eyelashes— which spikes his heart beat and rings his head—, you nodded. You place your hand in his and immediately, Ran interlocks his fingers with yours. You could feel your face getting warmer because you’re so goddamn lucky for snagging this hotness in front of you.

“So, do you like it so far? The date?”. He asked, his voice low.

“Yes! I really like it from the beginning actually.” You giggle and continue. “I really like the flowers, they’re so lovely and how did you know I like baby breaths?”. Ran shrugged, showing you a proud face as his unoccupied hand pointed at the side of his head.

“I had a premonition that my lovely (y/n) would love baby breaths.” The both of you laugh at Ran’s silly take but truth be told, it was the old lady’s idea when Ran told the lady frantically that he’s going on a first date. Not that he would ever tell you.

You look around the restaurant and added. “I love this restaurant too! I never expected that Roppongi would have a restaurant like this. You never cease to surprise me huh?”. Ran shrugged again, his thumb circling over your knuckle as he answers.

“I promised you fun right? Besides, we’re pretty far from Roppongi and I thought this would be a great place without any distractions from anyone.” You raised a brow at how Ran said those last words because he gave an annoyed look and a pursed lip, muttering under his breath about disgusting flies like Rindou and Sanzu.

He noticed your questioning look and suddenly he felt a heavy weight in his stomach. He gulps, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down at the thought that he has to explain to you now. Ran can’t keep his identity a secret forever and for all he knows, you might have already known. Ran wonder what will you think of him if you know the kind of person he is? He’s not exactly an innocent man, hell, no innocent man would belong to Bonten. He could feel his chest tightening at the thought of you leaving him and somehow, he feels as if he lose all hope. Ran’s wild thoughts were stopped by your question.

“Ran? What’s the matter?”. Ran looked up and you met his frantic lilac eyes. You were taken aback by the sudden change of mood as you squeeze his hand, trying to calm him down. Ran coughs, trying to push away the stone like feeling lodging in his throat. You give him a glass of the green tea served beforehand, in which he chugged down. Ran sighed and he gaze into your eyes, and thought,  fuck it.

“I know this sound conceited as hell but…do you know who I am?”. Ran were looking into you, analyzing any pattern of discomfort or hatred, instead he was greeted with a huge laugh and a light slap of his chest. Ran is confused and somewhat hurt now because he was dead serious.

“I am so sorry for laughing Ran but”. You continue giggling as you pull your chair closer to the table, so you can get closer to him. You place a hand on his cheeks and gently rub it, and with a smile you say.

“I thought it was something serious Ran, like you need to shit or something. But yes, I know who you are, Haitani Ran, the executive of Bonten.” Ran’s face was still clouded with distress as you continue. “It’s okay Ran, I don’t hate you for being a gang member.” You give the most assuring smile you could give and Ran sigh loudly, and held onto your hand that was on his cheek.

“I was just worried you would be scared of me or hate me.” Ran admit. A dejected look glazes over his handsome face. You could almost see an imaginary rain and cloud over him.

“I’m not going to lie Ran, I was a bit scared but do you know, I’m a believer too?”. Ran’s eyebrows furrow at your statement. “The Ran I met last night is so much more than the Haitani Ran of Bonten. I understand if you have done bad deeds, but what exactly can I do about it?”. You said as you held the both of Ran’s hand, staring deep into his eyes.

“I wouldn’t be unrealistic and say I don’t care but I would like to believe that, whatever it was you did were with reason. Besides, I like you the way you are, Bonten or not.” You muttered shyly.

“So, you’re okay with having a gang member as a boyfriend?”. Your smile before turn into a wide toothy grin as you tease.

“So, you’re my boyfriend now huh?”. Ran, realizing his words turn red as he covers his face in embarrassment. He then whispers, “if you want me to be…”. You chuckle again, taking off his hands from his face and respond.

“I thought we have already established that?”. Ran’s lips curled into a grin as he nodded, the food finally came and by the look and smell of it, you knew Ran’s choices would be amazing. The both of you began eating, the topic completely change from the heaviness it was before. It was another question and answer session about each other, like what to expect from each other’s time and he finally found out you’re actually a professor at a local university. You also told him that you’re currently staying with your best friend, Haruki and explained that she was the one who told you about him, and Bonten.

Ran then indulge you in questions about his personal life, the fact that he has a brother and some stories about his childhood, though very vaguely, he told you how he become who he is. You learned that Ran have always been in this kind of life and it was inevitable for him to be in a gang.

“Have you killed someone?”. You asked nonchalantly, chewing on the tasty sashimi while Ran was caught off guard by the heavy question. It took him some time before he could answer it, weighing between whether he should lie or tell the truth, but he rationalize that if he wanted to make it serious between the both of you, telling the truth is important.

“Yes, I have.” He answered, looking at you for your reaction. You shrugged and ask another question.

“Were they… good people? You know what I mean.” You look up to him, meeting his piercing eyes.

“No, they were bad people, people who definitely deserves it. We don’t kill innocent people, well at least, I don’t. But really, we don’t condone it cause it will get us in trouble. Its better to kill people with records already, so the police won’t question it much.” You nodded, secretly relief at his answer because that was what bugged you so much. Though killing people is still very, very scary but at least Ran have a degree of morals. You flash him a smile, a smile saying that its okay.

After the both of you finish eating, he paid for the meal though after much fight from you but Ran insist and even threatened the waitress saying if you take their money, I’ll call your boss and the poor waitress nodded frantically as she takes Ran’s card. He then suggested some ice cream in which you agree as he went to a McDonald’s drive through and ordered two Mcflurries.

“Do you… want to go home now?”. You could see a cute pout forming on Ran’s lips as his finger drum against the steering wheel.

“How about we go over the hill again, I still want to talk with you.” You said, as Ran, your new boyfriend held onto your hands and drive the both of you there.

Maybe, it wasn’t so bad after all, meeting someone at a club, just to later stay on the hills overlooking Roppongi.

Extra scene because why not:

It was already night when Ran came home, scrolling through his phone, at your chat where you’re sending him all the pictures the both of you took. Ran was looking at the pictures, specifically zooming into your face while smiling like a fool in love. Which he is.

“Well, well, well, if isn’t the beast, finally home with a disgusting grin on his face.” Ran head snapped front, looking at his brother who was sitting beside Mikey while Sanzu was at the other side of Mikey. “You know, your date today, they were a beauty, truly beautiful.” Rindou adds.

“Yet they are dating at this…” Sanzu say while pointing up and down at Ran with his hand. “This beast of a human. Urgh, how dare you get a date as attractive as they are when you look like a swirly candy?”. Ran scoffed in disbelief at Sanzu and Rindou’s words as he took of his shoes and throws it at them, surprisingly hitting the both of them square in the face.

“One more word Rindou, Sanzu. One more fucking word and I’ll pull out the guns, and feed it to the both of you.” Mikey chuckles at Ran as Kokonoi pesters him for the details. Finally, the whore of Bonten is now a changed and in love man, and it all took only one person, one night and one lunch.

Western Nights (Part 1) | Spike Spiegel x Reader

Genre : Angst, Romance, Runaway

Warning(s) : Swearing, Violence, Stalking, Blood, Kidnapping.

Summary : You’re on the run from your small town. Freeing yourself of your religious cult, or so you thought as you caught news they were hunting after you. As you’re on your escape, you run into Spike Spiegel, and once push led to shove you knew you’d never be the same.

Note : This is somewhat inspired by Ethel Cain’s album, Preacher’s Daughter. However it won’t follow that story, just the religious aspects of it. I suggest giving it a listen! It’s a masterpiece.

You had been on the run for what seemed like forever. Long enough to have made it from Nebraska to Texas. Gas stations were your best friend. Only the ones with showers for travelers. You had been saving up money for over a year now to make this bold move, and paying for a stay in a hotel would’ve zapped it all in 3 days.

You found a train station that had tickets straight to California. That’s where you always wanted to go, but the ticket would cost half of your money. Being left with $100 to survive on after getting there didn’t sound very…appealing or manageable. Then again after phoning your friend Nathanial and finding out that people from that cult were hunting you down and planned on hanging you upon bringing you back there, sounded a lot less appealing.

You bit the bullet. “One ticket to California please.” You asked the lady in the booth. You coughed up the money. “The next train won’t be here until 10:30 tonight toots.” The lady spoke, her voice was raspy probably due to all the cigarettes she smoked.

You looked up at the clock…it was only 12:00 in the afternoon. You groaned as you sat down in the lobby with the few belongings you brought with you. You sat back on the wooden bench seating, staring at the grey, cracked ceiling. The place had dim florescent lighting, in reality the sun beaming through the windows did more than the lights themselves.

You couldn’t help but find a strange sense of serenity in it, and sighed. The feeling of being alone was scary yet satisfying at the same time. Nobody to tell you who you should be, but nobody to tell you everything is going to be ok either. Except yourself. You learned a lot about yourself on this journey so far. After everything you’d been through, finally felt content with yourself despite being totally alone. Sure there were people hunting you down, but they always thought you wanted to go to Florida. If anything they’d just lead themselves on the complete opposite end of the country and give up. You realized you could be a lot smarter than what you gave yourself credit for.

Your thoughts eventually blurred together leading you to feel drowsy, passing out on your bag next to you. You weren’t sure how much time went by before getting woken up by a poke on the shoulder. A man with messy black, green tinted hair stood in front of you. As you looked around, you noticed the place had suddenly filled up. Your eyes got a glimpse of the clock…2:00, dammit. You sat up and grabbed your bag, yawning. “Good nap?” The man asked with a slight smile on his face. “Decent.” You responded through another yawn. The man chuckled and spoke once again. “Mind if I take this seat next to you?” You sat your bag on the floor beside you, allowing him to sit. “Not like you had any other options.” You replied, giggling a bit yourself. He shrugged and sat down next to you. “There were some other options, but you seemed like the most pleasant person to sit next to.” He smiled and looked over at you. “So where are you headed?” He inquired. “Somewhere.” You responded dully. You weren’t sure why he’d come be so friendly with you, but your paranoia spiked in this moment. You didn’t want to risk anything at all.

He raised an eyebrow at your response. “Well…I’m headed to California. On my journey to the west! My name’s Spike, by the way. Spike Spiegel.” He shot you a big smile. You smiled back at him. “Y/N. I’m headed to California too.” You weren’t sure why you told him that. Your paranoid mind told you no, but something in your gut spoke for you. He seemed trustworthy. He’d find out you were going to the same place when you boarded the train anyway, so it really didn’t matter if you’d told him or not. Might as well be friendly.

“You know…our train doesn’t get here for another 7 hours.” He said with the hint of an idea in his voice. You hadn’t even realized you both had been talking for an hour straight. “Why don’t we go to the café downtown? It’s only about a 10 minute walk there.” Spike suggested. “Why not. It’s better than sitting and staring at the wall.” You sighed and stood up. As you both walked for the door, Spike sped up and opened it for you. “After you.” He said with cheesy grin on his face. “What a gentleman.” You weren’t as amused as he was, and all he did was laugh. “So, what set your sights on California?” Spike asked you as you both were walking down the brick sidewalk of the small down. Small business to window shop in littered the path to the Cafe, and it was times like these you wish you had more money. “To get away from my small town back in Nebraska.” Spike raised his eyebrow at your response. “Too small of a town for your liking or what?” He inquired. “To get away from the religion I was brought up in. It was cultish and there really wasn’t any other way out then to get shunned out of town, or get murdered before you got shunned. I’d been planning this for years.” You take a deep breath before letting out a deep sigh. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this. I just met you.” You stared at the ground, a feeling of guilt washing over you for suddenly dumping all this on the stranger who was starting to feel like less of one. A look of concern washed over Spike’s face. “Don’t apologize, really! If everyone in your town is like that I doubt you’ve really had the chance to get any of this off your chest to anyone without the fear of it coming back to bite you in the ass later.” He paused for a second, then suddenly his concern turned into shock. “Okay so wait. You ran all the way here to Texas from Nebraska?” All you did was nod, gesturing towards your backpack. “Wow...you’re a really strong willed person. I admire that.” He grinned. For the first time in your life, you felt like someone actually meant what they said about you. For you, and not some fake persona you put up to survive. “I really appreciate that.” Your voice seeped of a deep feeling of gratitude. You smiled back at him, and right after that you were walking up a small set of steps. You had made it to the Cafe. “After you.” Spike held the door open for you again. “Thanks.” You smiled at him again as you walked in. “Spike! It’s great to see you again!” The girl standing in front of the cash register shouted. It made you feel a lot more at ease about Spike considering people in the community liked him. Normally that would be a bad thing. Preacher’s usually were held to high esteem back in your town but were the most evil people in the town, but Spike was obviously a free spirited person. Free spirits that are well-liked are typically amazing people, or whatever that book you read back at home said. “Tabitha!” Spike called out. “Always a pleasure to see you too.” He smiled. “I’ll just get my usual. And whatever my new friend here wants.” He motioned to you and pointed at the menu. “I’ll just get the plain black coffee. It’s cheaper.” You spoke to the bubbly girl taking your order. “Don’t worry about the price, it’s on me.” Spike spoke up. “No. I appreciate it but I’ll pay for my own.” You attempted to convince him, but it really wasn’t any use. “You worked so hard to get here. At the very least you deserve whatever coffee you want. I’ve got plenty of money right now. I insist” He wasn’t going to give this up. “Fine I’ll get the cinnamon latte.” You quietly spoke. “Now that’s more like it.” He gave his signature cheesy grin and a thumbs up. You’d known him for what...4 hours now? Yet you already were familiar with one of his expressions. You’ve always loved cinnamon. It was a flavor that brought a strange sense of comfort to you, and you really needed comfort more than ever. As you both sat down at a table to wait on your coffee, your paranoia was rising for some reason at this moment, and it was written all over your face. “Everything okay?” Spike questioned. He read you like a book. “One thing I didn’t mention is I got word that people from my town were looking for me. I’m just nervous they’ll somehow follow my trail and find me. Apparently they want me dead.” You whispered. He nodded in understanding, and nothing could’ve prepared you for his next words. “Even if they do find you, I won’t let them take you. Trust me.” He looked serious about this. “I might not know you that well yet, but I’ll be damned if I miss the chance to get to know you better. Not only that, but I won’t allow you to go back there to die when you’ve only just started living.” You felt a weird sense of relief somewhat wash over you. You were still on alert, but his words made you feel safe. “I...wow. Thank you, if you really do mean that I’ll make sure I pay you back for this someday.” He chuckled at your response. “You wanna know how you can pay me back, yeah? Live and enjoy your life once you’re free from all this. That’s the only payment I need.”  As Tabitha brought your coffee and you sipped on it, the mixture of the taste of cinnamon and Spike’s words made your eyes sting with tears. Your parents always warned you about strangers, claiming anyone not in the religion was trouble. If Spike was trouble, then trouble you’d get yourself into. The bell ringing from the door of the cafe interrupted your thoughts. A woman in all white, wearing a golden cross necklace walked in. Standing next to a man in a white suit, wearing the same necklace. You felt yourself get nauseous. You stared into Spike’s eyes with panic. “What’s u-” You cut him off by shushing him. “They’re looking for me. I know them.” You whispered in a panic. Luckily where you were both sat, you weren’t immediately visible upon walking in. “What do we do?” You were clearly shaken up, not really able to think. “Do you trust me?“ Spike whispered. You didn’t totally trust him yet, but it was either trust him or risk using your own thinking, which wasn’t really rational right now. “Yes.” You responded, and he nodded. He stood up, throwing his coat over him and motioning you to stand in next to him. He untied a string and it dropped the rest of the jacket. Was this guy a spy or something? It covered your legs, and he pulled you in close to him. You were hidden by just a piece of fabric in a dream. You prayed this would go well, but quickly realized how ironic that thought was. “Hey Tabitha! I’m ready for my shift. Where should I hang my coat up?“ You saw Spike wink, and Tabitha got the hint. “Just take it in the back!” She responded, as she then greeted the two people you desperately were trying to avoid. Spike walked into the back and left you back there as he put an apron on, making sure he blended into the role until they left. He gave you a brief hug and whispered, “It’ll be okay,” before walking back up into the front. You awkwardly sat in the back as you eavesdropped. “Have either of you seen this person on the side of this milk carton? This is my cousin.” The posh lady spoke up. You knew she was talking about you. “I haven’t. I’m so sorry.” Tabitha spoke up. “Well, someone saw them come in here today...” The posh man spoke up. “We asked someone, and they swore up and down...” He was gritting his teeth. “Well I hate to break it to you, but even if this person was here today, they’re gone by now.” Spike had a stern tone in his voice. “And you won’t speak to us like that.” You heard the two looking for you gasp. “Who are you to speak to us in such a fashion?” The woman spoke. “The same person who’s kicking you out of this cafe for talking to us the same way. Scram.” Spike demanded. You heard Tabitha gasp. You hated not being able to see what was going on up there. “You’ll learn not to speak to us like that again boy.” The man spat. “Go ahead and pull the trigger. We’ll see what God thinks of that.” Spike retorted. You felt sick to your stomach hearing a gun got pulled. “Let’s see who meets him first.” You peeked and saw Spike holding a gun to the man now. It was a stand off. “What’s the sour face for?” Spike taunted. “Do it. I fucking dare you.” Right before the man fired his gun, Spike ducked and popped back up, putting a bullet between the man’s eyes. The woman with him screamed. Luckily for them, nobody else was in the cafe. She bolted out of the cafe and a car screeched down the road. “The coast is clear.” Spike called out to you. Tabitha was locking up the cafe doors. “We’ll need to clean this up somehow.” Her breathing was all over the place. It was as intriguing to you as it was odd that Spike was calm. Blood was all over the floor. After what felt like hours of cleaning, there was no sight blood had even been here. Tabitha said she “knew a guy” who could take care of the body for them, and so you and Spike made your way back to the train station. “How were you so calm during all of that?” You blurted out. “Inside I was a nervous wreck, I just know how to not show it.” Spike sighed. “In reality I’m still shaken up too, but hey. Better him than you, right?” He patted you on the back. One hour was left until the train would be arriving. You had fallen asleep again, Spike allowing you to use his shoulder as a pillow. The nap was short-lived however, Spike was waking you up. “Hey, it’s time to board the train. Sit next to me, yeah?” He smiled. You weren’t going to leave his side now. He just killed for you. It would be downright cruel to tell him no. He let you sit on the inside next to the window. It was dark out, but you still stared out of the window at all the dimly lit sights. “Hey...I’ve got a question for you.” Spike broke the silence. “What is it?” You turned around and looked at him. “Wanna go see the west with me?” He smiled at you as he asked. “I’m not exactly sure what you mean.” You responded awkwardly. “What I mean is why not come travel with me? Stick by each other’s side, you know? After everything that happened today, something doesn’t feel right making this train ride the last time we see each other.” He looked down at the floor for a minute before looking back up at you, staring into your eyes. Your shaken up mind was screaming no, but your heart and gut were telling you to accept his offer. After a life of listening to your mind, it was time to start listening to your gut and your heart. Those were the things that gave you the nerve to run away in the first place. If you listened to your mind, you’d still be in Nebraska. You nodded as you spoke, not breaking eye contact with the man who had proven himself to you as someone you could trust. I mean, come on. He did just kill someone for you. “I agree. I can’t imagine this just being some one off moment with a stranger after everything that just...happened.” He smiled, not one of his cheesy ones, but a soft one. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m looking forward to getting to know you even more.” You both stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds longer before chuckling awkwardly, turning to look back out of the window. You felt yourself getting sleepy, and as your head fell back to your seat, Spike caught you with his arm, gently moving you to lean against his shoulder instead. Eventually he let out a yawn, his head resting on top of yours as you both fell asleep on the train ride to California. After two days of travel, Spike was once again waking you up. You’d finally arrived in California. You sprung awake in excitement and held onto Spike’s arm. You didn’t really seem to realize you’d been doing it, and he didn’t really seem to mind, so you both walked off the train like this. “We’re actually here I can’t believe it!” You squealed. Spike led you both to a place to rent a car, then soon after pulled up to a hotel. After checking in, you both went up to your room. Two queen sized beds and finally some good air conditioning. You hadn’t slept on a bed in weeks, but you were too excited to sleep right now. “Can we go and explore?” You asked him. He happily nodded and you both ran out into the town, admiring all the city lights. However the part of you that explored back home kicked in and managed to find a quiet spot on a trail. You sat down, and Spike sat next to you. Staring up at the stars. “Look at those starts, it’s like they make a rose.” You were in awe at how pretty the sky was here too, just like back at home. “That one looks like a lion.” Spike chuckled. You both sat and admired the stars for hours, talking about whatever came to mind. Neither of you knew when it happened, but Spike’s arm was around you and you were leaning into him. “I finally feel like I’m living.” You sighed out in a relived and content way. “That’s what I like to hear.” He pulled you into him a little closer and you both kept soaking in the beautiful night sky above you.

Disorderly Conduct - Chapter 5

We're almost at the end! I hope you've all enjoyed this series so far!

Previous Parts:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

TW: Bondage, threats, hostage-taking, violence

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Chapter 5 - Pursuit:

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Cash's POV:

The first thing he notices upon waking is that you’re no longer in his arms, where he had left you before falling asleep. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, hasn’t even taken that deep breath that you breathe when you first regain consciousness in the morning, and he knows you’re gone.

He’d been wanting it for years, after all, had fantasized about it as he fell asleep alone after getting himself off, coming into his own fist with a groan of your name. Of course it would be on his mind now that he’d actually, finally had you, but you were gone.

The cuffs should have prevented that, even if his arms around you hadn’t.

Opening his eyes slowly, seeing your half of the bed empty, he rolls onto his back with a groan, tilting his head back to confirm that yes, the cuff was now attached to his own wrist.

He’s only half-surprised to see you next to the foot of the bed, sitting in a chair with your feet kicked up on the mattress.

You’re still only wearing his shirt, the sleeves rolled up and only half of the buttons done up, your hair a tangled mess. He also doesn’t miss the gun – his gun – held loosely in your grip.

You look good.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Cash finds himself unable to refrain from checking you out, eyes roaming across your bare legs, easily making out your nipples through the thin material of his shirt, hard from the morning chill. He thinks he can spot a couple of love bites on your throat and along your collarbone that aren’t concealed by the shirt. You’re also surveying him with a cold stare, nibbling your bottom lip as you think.

He finds himself getting hard, and kicks the blanket off of him, exposing himself fully to your stare, folding his free hand behind his head to serve as a pillow as he looks back at you unflinchingly. Your eyes never leave his, but he watches an appealing blush spread across your face and down your neck at his nakedness.

“Morning, sunshine,” he purrs, giving you a cheeky grin. Maybe he can talk you into banging one more time before you put a bullet in his skull. Your lips press into a thin line.

“I want answers,” you say bluntly, rudely ignoring his morning greeting. Cash isn’t deterred.

“Yes Y/N, you’re the best I’ve ever had,” he admits unabashedly, before you even ask a question. “But I told you that last night. Now c’mon, untie me and let’s go another round!” he cajoles, watching your flush deepen with a great sense of pleasure. He still couldn’t believe he’d finally gotten to be with you last night, that you wanted him the same way, and had for ages…

Fate was a cruel mistress.

“Don’t be an ass, Cash,” you snap at him, trying to get your own agenda back on track.

He pretends to look around the room as if pointedly ignoring you, looking for anything that either of you could use against one another. In addition to the gun clutched in your hand, he can see his cellphone on the dresser that sat along the wall beside the door. He hadn’t put it there, which meant that you likely had. He wonders who you’ve contacted; It posed a problem. He tests the limits of the cuffs, feeling confident that he could snap them, but there would be no point while you were still armed. He would need to wait for an opportunity.

“Can’t we multitask?” he asks hopefully. He can see you gnash your teeth in response.

“Are there any officers involved in your little scheme other than you, Glen, and Ray?” you ask, doing your best to ignore his proposition.

“No.” He’s being honest, not only because you could probably detect a lie but because telling you the truth was likely the easiest way to get you to let your guard down. Fuck, he really didn’t want to kill you; part of him hopes you’ll get him first.

“How long have you been… doing things like this?” you press, struggling to even ask the question. Your disappointment in him stings, it really does.

“This is the first. We’ve been planning for a month or so.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You expect me to believe that I’ve just happened to catch you in the act before you’ve really done anything?”

“Shouldn’t you catching me in the act so easily support the fact that I’ve got no experience doing this sort of thing?” he replies, arching an eyebrow at you.

“So why did you?!” you exclaim, frustration and pain evident in your voice. He debates how much to tell you, before settling on all of it. He slides up the bed, leaning back against a pillow pressed against the rails of the headboard, one knee bent and the other straight, one arm uselessly attached to the head of the bedframe. He locks eyes with you before answering, wanting to be able to detect every nuance in your expression as he finally gave you the truth.

“I did everything by the book for years, Y/N. I’ve been on the force almost as long as you’ve been alive. I did everything right, always.” Looking back, he’d probably been as uptight as you were, at least in the beginning.

“When I got suspended, it was the first time I’d ever received any form of discipline in my entire career. If it had stopped there, I… I probably would’ve been fine. I know that it was wrong of me to pulverize that guy,” he pauses, starting to see red as he did any time he thought about that day. He had almost been too late…

“I wasn’t thinking in the moment, I was just so angry… I wanted that fucker in agony until his dying breath, and then some…” he takes a deep breath, trying to refocus. “They were right to suspend me. But then Levinson told me that I couldn’t work with you anymore, that I couldn’t even tell you anything, that I needed to stay away from you…” he seethes, thinking back to how he had coped with that bit of news during his suspension: drinking himself into a stupor and waking up every morning with a new room of his house completely destroyed.

“I lost all my respect for the department that day. More than twenty years of service, a spotless record, but one bad judgement call and they were determined to keep me from… the one thing I really wanted.”

He runs his free hand through his short hair, trying to maintain his composure, but seeing the pain in your eyes as you watch him struggle through the explanation nearly has him losing it.

“Everything stopped being black and white to me that day. I couldn’t just mindlessly follow the rules, upholding a system that had fucked me over so completely. When Glen came to me with the idea to make some money selling drugs we’d already seized, it was… it was like an opportunity to fuck over Levinson and everyone else that wanted to keep me away from you. And so I agreed to work with him. I had nothing left to lose.”

There’s a prolonged silence between you as you digest this information. You’ve set his gun down, your hand trembling, your head in your hands. He debates taking the opportunity to break free, though he’s not sure if he’ll move for the gun or you first. His arms ache to hold you.

“Bet you really regret saving my life, huh?” you joke, barking out a humourless laugh through your tears, and his heart stops beating, clenching tightly at the very thought.

“Not for a second,” he hisses intensely, the venom in his voice making you look up at him. If he thought he had any chance of convincing you to just run away with him, leaving everything behind, he would. But you wouldn’t.

His response has lost him the element of surprise, your focus back on him, so he pivots, trying for something else.

“I’ve been honest with you. Will you do the same for me?” he asks you, despite already knowing the answer. You always gave as good as you got, both the good and the bad – you would answer his questions, he was certain of it. Sure enough, you nod at him, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. You still haven’t picked up the gun.

“Was last night all bullshit? Just a means to an end?” He fights to keep his tone and expression nonchalant.

“No,” you respond immediately, the amount of passion you manage to convey with that one word astounding him. “No, Cash, it wasn’t. I had feelings for you, and I wanted you. I just… I couldn’t not take the opportunity to take the key when I saw it. But if that hadn’t been in the cards, and you had just killed me in my sleep last night, that’s… it wouldn’t have changed last night, for me at least. I’m glad it happened, even like this.”

He’s not sure why he asked; maybe if you had said you had just played him, it would’ve made it easier to kill you. But no, of course you hadn’t. You were you, and for all your obnoxiousness and nagging you had always been an unwaveringly honest, ethical woman. You had made him want to be better, right from the moment he’d started working with you, after all.

He sighs deeply, collecting himself.

“So, when’s your backup arriving?”

You blink at him, startled.

“What?” you ask, looking horribly guilty, and he just looks at you with exasperation. You could never make it as a criminal.

He points his chin in the direction of his phone on the dresser, and you follow his gaze. He can practically hear you cursing yourself in your head for leaving it within his eyesight.

“Probably ten minutes,” you answer quietly, still looking at the phone, your head and body turned away from him. He twists his hand, gripping the cuff to protect his wrist before pulling it suddenly with all his might, snapping the chain of the cuffs against the bedpost. They break down the middle, one cuff now dangling uselessly from his wrist. You turn, jumping at the noise, but he’s already lunging towards you, snatching his gun back and knocking you off of the chair, sending you sprawling to the ground.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says by way of apology, looming over you. Even now, he finds himself admiring you in his shirt. If only things could be different…

“You son of a bitch!” you screech at him, rolling away before getting back to your feet. “I trusted you, Cash!”

“No you didn’t,” he fires back, all cockiness once more. Keeping one eye on you, he moves around the room, collecting his clothes. “If you did, you wouldn’t have cuffed me or had this–” he gestures with the gun in his hand “–within arm’s reach the whole time.”

He tosses you his boxer shorts; they land on the floor at your feet.

“Put those on, princess. Don’t want you catching a cold.”

You make no move to obey, and he sighs, raising the gun to your chest.

“Don’t make this difficult, Y/N. I’m leaving – you can either come with me, or make me kill you now.”

Cash watches the expressions flit across your face: fear, defiance, sadness, anger… finally, you scowl at him, bending down to grab the boxers. He tries not to look at you wearing them, not wanting to get hard again, especially in nothing but his jeans. Fuck, he should just drive off with you, and keep you with him forever, parading around in nothing but his clothes.

Well, he’d have to get out of here with you first to even pitch you the idea.

He gets dressed one-handed with some difficulty, watching you do up the rest of the buttons on his shirt to cover yourself, trying to be prim and proper even now, then gestures to the door with the gun.

“Time to go. Nice and slow,” he instructs you, following you through the house. He slips his shoes on, pulling yours off the top of the fridge where he’d stashed them – they were the only things of yours that hadn’t been exposed to the chloroform – and grabs you by the upper arm the moment they’re on your feet.

Leading you out of the house, he stops outside the driver’s door of his trucking, opening it and half-lifting you inside, keeping the gun trained on you as he runs across to the passenger’s side.

“Drive,” he orders you, tossing you the keys; they land in your lap. “Do it, Y/N!”

Snapping out of it, you fit the keys into the ignition, starting the truck. He thinks he hears sirens in the distance.

“Get us out of here, take a left.”

You seem to be on autopilot, actually listening to him for once, your expression blank and dazed. The tires spin out on the gravel for a moment before the truck speeds out of the driveway and down the road, flying down the deserted street.

“We’re gonna keep going until I’m sure they’re not after us, and then we’re gonna find somewhere nice and quiet for us to talk,” he coos reassuringly, his heart thudding against his chest.

You continue down the lonely road for awhile, never seeing another car, before you suddenly take a sharp right, turning down an old logging road. After about a minute or two, you slam on the brakes, and the truck stops abruptly in the middle of the road.

“Keep going, Y/N,” he pushes, growling when you don’t make a move to take your foot of the brake. “Drive, god damnit!”

“No.” You don’t even look over to him, just continue staring straight ahead with that vacant look.

“‘No’?! What the fuck do you mean, ‘No’?!” he snarls, his heart pounding in his panic.

“Someone’s going to get hurt, the longer this goes on. I can’t let that happen.”

“You’re going to get hurt in a second if you don’t fucking drive!” Cash hisses, cocking the gun and pointing it at you. He hopes you don’t notice his hand shaking.

You stay silent for a moment before slowly turning your head and looking past the barrel of the gun to stare into his eyes, your expression somehow managing to be both resolute and distraught.

“I’m sorry, Cash; I can’t. You’re going to have to kill me.”

---

...Sorry.

Part 6

Part 7

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Language, anti-religious sentiment throughout, another creeper

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

---

The first thing you felt in the morning was dizziness. Even before you opened your eyes, you knew the room was spinning around you. The faint acidic taste in your mouth prompted a low-level nausea to start churning in your stomach and your throat was painfully dry.

You adjusted yourself a little, relieved when you felt Bucky’s arms wrapped around you, his chest rising and falling against your cheek. Slowly scooching upwards with eyes still screwed shut, you brought your face level with his. His breath smelt just as strong as yours tasted.

He stirred when your nose brushed against his, croaking faintly. ‘Still here. Haven’t run away yet.’

‘I feel like there’s a bee hive inside my head.’

‘Your first proper hangover,’ he chuckled, ‘we should celebrate. Breakfast?’

‘I’m never eating again. Or drinking. Or… moving.’

He started wriggling. ‘Well, either you move or I piss the bed.’

You groaned and inched yourself backwards, the movement making your brain rattle inside your head while Bucky slipped away and scuttled to the bathroom. Unfortunately, one of the many downsides of living in a tin can was the extent to which peeing sounds reverberated from end to end. You screwed your eyes closed and clutched a pillow over your ear, relaxing briefly when the noise stopped but giving up on sleep completely when a racket of banging pots and pans started just a few feet away from your head. You’d never get used to this place.

Bucky made breakfast while you rotted on the couch, feeling sorry for yourself. Only a few mouthfuls and a sip of water made it past your lips before being sat up straight started to make you feel woozy.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ Bucky piped up whilst washing the dishes, ‘when you feel better we should go back to the apartment. I know it’s close to your parents, but at least my asshole dad doesn’t have keys to it.’

You considered for a second, weighing up whether you were more intimidated by your parents or his. Both were unpleasant but at least back at the apartment you couldn’t fry an egg while lying in bed.

‘That’s fine with me. Whatever you think is best, Buck.’

---

The two of you left the trailer the next morning, you were still feeling pretty ropey but you were at least able to walk six feet without getting dizzy. The hour-long motorbike ride would be make or break for your traumatised stomach.

As you were donning your helmets Bucky confessed how relieved he was to be getting out of there, and you told him that you felt the same. You’d always be grateful for the sanctuary but, without mentioning the lack of space, stained walls and crappy shower, you hadn’t felt safe in the trailer since Bucky’s dad had burst in the other night. Christ knows what else that man was capable of.

You were looking forward to a cosy evening curled up on a proper couch followed by what should have been the best sleep you’d had in days but, somehow, your roommate convinced you that it’d be a good idea to head out to a bar. The thought of being back in civilization was actually a pretty appealing one. He suggested his usual haunt, a place you’d never heard of despite living in that town all your life.

It was a dive bar. You’d never been to a dive bar before, you weren’t even really sure what it meant but, as soon as you saw the outside of this place, you knew it fit the bill. There was a flickering neon sign advertising Miller High Life above the door and parked up bikes as far as the eye could see. The gutter outside smelt like stale beer and piss, faded red curtains covered all the windows and some extremely intimidating clientele loitered outside, eyeing the two of you as you approached. One of them gave a gruff chuckle as you brushed past him to get to the entrance.

Bucky enthusiastically greeted a few guys inside, one of them you vaguely recognised from school but the others looked quite a bit older. You were so far out of your comfort zone in this place, every muscle in your body felt tense and you were convinced that dozens of dirty looks were being thrown your way, your paranoia making you look even more like a fish out of water.

‘What’ll it be then, sweetheart?’

Your eyes followed the voice to a tall, brawny blonde with freakishly wide shoulders and a crooked smile. Your mouth opened slightly as you scurried around trying to figure out exactly what kind of alcohol was sold in a place like this- the only bars you’d visited before exclusively sold alcopops and hard seltzers.

‘She’ll have my usual.’ Bucky piped up before you embarrassed yourself.

You just nodded, keeping quiet for fear of coming across as the naive religious freak in front of his friends. He reached across the bar and you suddenly found yourself with a pint of beer in one hand and a shot of whiskey in the other, confused as to why you were being made to carry his drink as well as yours. Your expression made him chuckle.

‘Boilermaker,’ he whispered close to your ear, ‘proper booze. Gotta make up for all that shit last night.’

He picked up his two glasses and one of the entourage led you towards a cramped booth with a sticky table. You were tucked in between Bucky and the blonde, the former’s arm circled tight around your waist, hand resting possessively at the top of your thigh. You didn’t speak much. Even if you’d wanted to, there was very little you could contribute to conversations about bike engines and non-Christian movies.

You’d gotten halfway through your beer when you felt eyes on you. Looking around, you eventually met the gaze of your seat neighbour. He was frowning slightly, one eyebrow raised, wisps of sandy hair falling over his forehead.

‘No offence, but you weren’t exactly what I was expecting.’

Great. This shit again.

‘Oh?’

‘Mhmm. When Buck said he was bringing a chick along I thought you’d be less-’

‘Leave it, yeah?’ Bucky’s tone was friendly, but you could sense a hint of warning.

‘Like I said, no offence.’ He smirked. ‘She just looks a little suburban.’

Bucky got more agitated. ‘What the hell’s that s’posed to mean?’

‘Jesus, chill out Barnes. She’s not bothered, are ya?’

He nudged you hard, pushing you into Bucky’s side. You just smiled politely in a pathetic attempt to diffuse.

‘Just back off, alright?’

‘Whatever you say man,’ the blonde raised his hands in surrender, smirking before adding under his breath, ‘at least she looks less whorish than the last one.’

Bucky launched himself to his feet and his aggressor did the same thing in response. A frenzied shouting match broke out while you cowered between the contestants, eyes darting between them. To your surprise, everyone else around the table was seemingly unfazed by the turn of events. Not one of them attempted to intervene. It escalated quickly, resulting in Bucky being violently yanked by his lapels, a pint of beer toppling and spilling all over you in the process. He quickly freed himself and helped you out of the booth, apologising as he ushered you towards the door.

‘Just gonna run away, huh?’ The blonde was shouting after you, following you out. ‘Fuckin’ typical. Hey sweetheart, if you ever want a real man to take care of you, gimme a call.’

Just as you thought the two of you might make it out of there intact, Bucky wheeled round and punched him square in the mouth. He received a swift jab to the stomach in return and the two of them crashed onto the sidewalk, arms and legs flying in every direction. You clasped a hand over your mouth and stumbled backwards. The sharp raindrops stung against your cheeks.

They only managed a few seconds of brawling before a couple of huge biker guys intervened, their handling of the blonde allowing you to grab Bucky and pull him away. You felt like hitting him yourself, like beating your fists against his chest in frustration, but you didn’t get a chance. The bartender busted through the door, yelling down the phone as the wailing of sirens approached. Flashing blue lights flooded the street. A uniformed officer leapt out of his car and swiftly made his way towards you and Bucky, the same officer who had doorstepped the apartment after your parents reported you kidnapped.

‘Told you your time would come,’ a satisfied smirk spread over his red face, ‘James Barnes, I’m arresting you on suspicion of battery and assault.’

Everything said after that was drowned out by a high pitched whining that started in your ears. Bucky was cuffed, dragged away and shoved into the back of the car. He shouted something in your direction before the door closed but you didn’t catch it. You were reeling with shock, everything around you felt like it was moving in slow motion yet, somehow, happening too fast for you to register.

They drove away, lights fading as they disappeared down the street, and you were alone. Standing in the gutter outside a dive bar, trembling and covered in beer, playing perfectly into your parents’ predictions. You hugged your arms in a vain attempt to shelter yourself from the night air. What the fuck were you supposed do now? Go sleep on Bucky’s doorstep, hoping he’d get released before morning? How many more times were you going to have to do that? You couldn’t help but feel so, so stupid. You’d leapt, fallen and landed flat on your face. Maybe your mother wasn’t exaggerating, maybe she was right all along. Christ, maybe you were just some naïve, sheltered Christian kid in way over your head.

You had no choice, you went home.

---

Waking up back in your childhood room prompted a wave of depression to crash over you. You wiped a hand over your eyes, it was sticky and smelled like stale beer and cigarettes. You hadn’t had the energy to do more than collapse onto the bed last night, still in your wet clothes, shoes muddying up your mother’s crisp white sheets.

Only your father had been awake when you timidly knocked on the door at midnight. He stepped aside and let you in without much more than a stern look, but you knew as well as he did that the real thrashing would come this morning. You were dreading having to face her.

You slowly sat up, the motion kick-starting yet another hangover, and swung your legs off the bed. They felt stiff. A sorrowful chuckle escaped through your lips, even the cramped folding bed hadn’t made you feel as sore as this godforsaken concrete mattress. You lumbered to the bathroom. Switching on the light, you stared into the mirror, taking in the reflection you barely recognised. Your eyes were dark, bloodshot and puffy, your hair was wild from days of washing it with shower gel in the trailer’s crappy shower, your clothes from the night before were still hanging off you, stained and reeking. You looked rough, but fucking hell did you look alive- and you felt it.

The doorbell rang. You hastily tiptoed to the top of the stairs, glancing down to see your mother standing in the doorway, face to face with Bucky. He looked awful, cuts and bruises littering his face. You stepped back slightly to hide yourself from his view.

‘Get off my property or I’m calling the police.’

Well, she hadn’t changed while you’d been gone.

‘Is she here?’

Silence. You peeked around the corner as your mother whipped her phone from her pocket and attempted to slam the door in his face. Bucky planted a hand flat against the wood, easily out matching her strength, and began desperately calling your name.

So much of you wanted to run down the stairs and throw your arms around him, to let him rescue you from this fucking horrible place again, but you knew there was a high probability you’d just end up here again in a week or two. You couldn’t keep letting him do this to you, your emotions were fragile enough without him constantly yo-yoing in and out of your life. You stayed quiet.

‘Fine,’ he backed away, holding his arms up, ‘but you and me both know that, sooner or later, someone’s gonna help her see through all your bullshit. I might as well be the one.’

He limped down the steps and out of your view. You had no idea if you’d made the right decision there, but you were pretty sure you’d end up feeling like shit either way, so it didn’t really matter. Dragging yourself back into your room, you picked up your phone for the first time that morning. Twenty-five texts and eight missed calls from Bucky.

You’d give him a chance to explain, but it would be on your time, when you were ready to hear it. You knew if you saw him now you’d just collapse into his arms and let him carry you back to the apartment. You needed to build up some strength, even if it meant toughing it out through numerous lectures on the dangers of sacrilege and fornication.

Taking a deep breath, you typed out a message to him.

The bench. Tomorrow at noon.

---

Part 8

---

May I request a minific with Survival AU Dagger and his fem s/o? Like, her reminding him that he is enough, that he's important. Stuff like that.

OH ME HEART-

Lady (Mistress) has a swing in the back of the courtyard, under a tree, that’s big enough for two people. Lately, (Name) has seen DAGGER sitting there alone, when it’s dark out.

Sometimes he’s sitting up, using the one foot he has to push himself back and forth, looking incredibly lost in thought. Sometimes he’s lying spread out on the entire swing, letting the swing sway gently by itself… still looking incredibly lost in thought.

The two of them have become quite close since Lady (Mistress) rescued Dagger and his family. (Name) isn’t ashamed to admit she’s shared several kisses and embraces with this man, and hopes to share many more.

However, what’s rather sad to her is that she doesn’t think he sees himself the way she sees him. Especially after whatever circumstances led him and his family here, he doesn’t seem to believe he’s worth much or appealing to anyone. It breaks her heart to notice the little ways that he shies away as if he doesn’t think he’s ‘good enough’.

So she ventures out tonight, assuring her lady that she’ll be back in soon, and lowers herself down onto the swing beside Dagger after strolling through the courtyard. “Lovely night, isn’t it?”

To his credit, he doesn’t jump so much as startles a little. He’s prone to being dramatic around other people, so she’s grateful she gets to see a side of him that many others don’t get to see. It feels special and intimate.

“Sure is, darlin’.” Instantly he shifts to make room for her, patting his lap in a clear invitation for her to lay her head there. “Good night f’r cuddlin’.”

She laughs and obliges, nestling her head against his legs. “Every night’s a good night for cuddling if it’s you I’m cuddling.”

He offers a snort as he runs a hand through her hair. “Agree t’ disagree, I s’pose. Shouldn’t y’ be inside ‘bout now? It’s gettin’ dark.”

“Well, I couldn’t fall asleep without you beside me,” she hums. “Why do we have to agree to disagree, anyway? You don’t think I like cuddling you more than anyone else in the whole world?”

All he has to offer is a shrug followed by the gentle comb of his fingers in her hair. “Not that y’ don’t like it. Jus’, y’know… I don’t… I ain’t nothin’ special, y’know? A cuddle’s a cuddle. Mine ain’t no different.”

She wraps her arms around his waist and is quiet for a moment. “We’ll have to agree to disagree, then. Because I’ve cuddled at least a few people in my life, and your cuddles are definitely the best. You don’t think you’re anything special? Really?”

“… Nah.” He speaks up softly, even though silence would tell her everything she’d need to know. “I ain’t. Don’t always understand why y’ wanna be with me, ‘ey? Y’ could ‘ave other men. Ones w’o ain’t missin’ a leg ‘n’ try’na recover from a buncha crap ‘n’ ‘aven’t…” His breath catches in his throat. “… Ones w’o ain’t done bad things.”

“Everyone’s done bad things at one time or another.” She gives him a squeeze. “We all have a past, my love. It doesn’t mean that people should choose someone else instead of you. And you have the whole, big future ahead of you to do whatever you want with.”

He lets out a sigh, and his breath freezes in midair. It’s only the beginning of March, after all. Still cold. “Assumin’ that ain’t y’ jus’ being all wide-eyed ‘n’ too sweet. Wot ‘bout my leg? The one that ain’t there?”

She moves her arms so she can take his hand. “Missin a part doesn’t mean you aren’t a whole person. Your soul isn’t missing pieces, is it? Your heart isn’t missing pieces, is it? Who cares what anyone else thinks of you, as long as the people who know your heart love you?”

He doesn’t say anything, so she tugs his hand up to her face and presses a tender kiss to the back of it. “You’re important to me, Dagger. You’re handsome and kind and if there was someone exactly like you, personality and looks and talents and everything, who was born with two legs, I think I’d still choose you. Because you’re you. Don’t you think if I wanted a different man, I would have chosen another man?”

She lays her head back down, closing her eyes. “But I don’t. I want you. And we can agree to disagree on whatever else we want, but on this subject, I think you’re just going to have to learn to live with that. I’ll get you agreeing with me on this one thing some way or other.”

The world is frozen and beautiful and she can barely see him, but she knows he’s smiling, because of the shape his lips are in when he kisses her forehead.

“I know probably no one has ever said that to you before,” she murmurs. She’ll have to get up and cajole him inside in a minute. Just one more small, sweet moment out here.

“That’s alright. I promise, I’ll say it enough to make up for all the times you should have heard it. I’ll say it so much you’ll be hearing it in your sleep and you’ll be sick of it.”

And she thinks that’s the way it ought to be.

‘I love you’ are the only three words that one can never possibly wear out, aren’t they?

Thorn of lenience, day 1

Written for Mulian Week 2023: Blooms of Our Yearning. @mulianweek-event

Prompt (Day One): Cherry Blossom (deception)

In more ways than one, Mu Qing isn't who they say he is. (But it's not his tricks being discussed here.)

The explicit rating is for chapters 4 and 7.

Or, read the chapter here:

Kneeling on the cold floor wasn’t too unpleasant. Not only because it was familiar - knowing that this act helped secure his position and kept him safe - but also because he knelt before His Royal Highness the Crown Prince. That alone was enough to make him ignore any aches and pains he was experiencing.

Taizi Dianxia always had the innate power to inspire awe in everyone who was in his presence, especially in the case of boys from lowly births like Mu Qing. 

Mu Qing noticed Taizi Dianxia's voice before turning to face him. He had been monitoring the prince for months, getting to know his routine and impulses, looking for the most likely angles from which he would be targeted.

Once he had proven himself competent, he was assigned the duty of shadowing the prince in public.

"Please, you may rise."

Mu Qing did so after one final courtesy. "Many thanks to Taizi Dianxia," he spoke, his tone as low as he could naturally get at his age, and somewhere between casual and respectful, as befitting of someone who would come to work very closely with royalty.

The State Preceptor looked at him and frowned. Mu Qing knew the man couldn't say anything that would get him sent away. Even if the scrutiny made him feel he had many flaws, his records were legitimate, and he'd been properly assigned to this task.

But the State Preceptor was not alone in his dissatisfaction.

Mu Qing noticed the apprentice bodyguard's obvious displeasure. The hostility irritated his skin and kept him alert ('Good,' he remembered his handler saying, 'never let your guard down.')

Feng Xin, like Mu Qing, had been groomed to be Taizi Dianxia's confidant. But unlike Mu Qing, Feng Xin has been by his side for several years.

Feng Xin's accomplishment was also more commendable. Mu Qing was a servant, whereas Feng Xin was the result of proper Xianle breeding, all with the intention of best serving the royal family. They could never be compared.

Though they were all still boys and should have paid less attention to such details, Mu Qing already had the disadvantage of Feng Xin's mistrust and Taizi Dianxia's somewhat resigned acceptance.

A bodyguard had to have faith in his master's retainer.

Mu Qing almost sympathised with the boy's misfortune that the bodyguard had to cooperate with him. Almost.

Mu Qing could understand how the crown prince, especially one as free-spirited as Taizi Dianxia, might see having a personal servant as a restriction. Even with the crown prince unaware of the extent of Mu Qing's responsibilities.

Mu Qing had spent his entire life watching Taizi Dianxia, looking for any signs of outside danger that he would have to report to his handler so that his superiors could intercept the threat. He came to learn a lot about the prince.

Taizi Dianxia, for example, liked to walk with a slight lean to the left. When the crown prince sneezed, he was always caught off guard. Mu Qing was well aware of Taizi Dianxia's habit of sleeping with his lips slightly parted.

Mu Qing was now to personally assist Taizi Dianxia in full view for two main reasons. For one, Mu Qing was the same age as the crown prince. Their familiarity might help ease Taizi Dianxia’s transition into the harsh realities of kingdom rule that he seemed to find less appealing.

Another reason was that Mu Qing had made a call while watching Taizi Dianxia's back just months before this arrangement. A significant decision that resulted in Mu Qing's first kill without being explicitly ordered to do so, the discovery of a rebel group in the crown city, and the execution of four of their leaders.

The court believed Mu Qing was prepared to take the next step in becoming Taizi Dianxia's trusted handler for his shadow politics, just as Mu Qing's handler was for the king.  

Mu Qing, like Feng Xin, had been raised to be loyal to Xianle's future king, and he had always thought their efforts were unnecessary. He had been captivated by the crown prince since the first time he saw him, when Taizi Danxia was kicking a ball alone in the palace's large garden. Mu Qing recalled the few times he had spent playing alone, knowing no one his age and not being close to any of his seniors. He sympathised with the crown prince, however unworthy he felt of it.

He'd even kicked the ball back when Taizi Dianxia thought he'd misplaced the toy. Mu Qing's little secret was that he had once 'played' with the prince.

Even now, as Mu Qing raised his head after a few moments of keeping himself lowered in submission, Xie Lian's gaze was like the breeze coursing through the fabric of his uniform. His hair sprang up on his arms, and his skin itched with nervousness.

"It's nice to meet you, Mu Qing," Xie Lian said cheerfully, though with reservation. 

The crown prince was nearly fifteen years old and was well underway with intensive martial arts and cultivation training. He evidently saw no need for further security with a bodyguard already by his side. He must have considered the additional staff to be more of a nuisance than a benefit.

That was why Mu Qing would primarily act as his servant, to lighten his mood. It was his duty to ensure Taizi Dianxia would feel safe at all times, after all.

He was used to hiding his face behind a modest mask, ensuring his anonymity. Years later, when Taizi Dianxia had more personal servants, Mu Qing would re-adorn that mask and act solely per his official profession.

Mu Qing had to greet Taizi Dianxia with his face bare and exposed to ensure a peaceful transition.

Mu Qing was embarrassed. He didn't want Taizi Dianxia to dislike him at first sight. Many people had told Mu Qing that he was aloof and unapproachable, especially for someone his age, so he chose to keep his lips slightly pursed in a polished and cordial manner on this day.

Mu Qing was never encouraged to smile, and as a result, he never did. He'd be happy to put an end to the farce as soon as possible and return to hiding behind a mask or even a veil.

Taizi Dianxia examined his features and appearance with the detached air befitting of a passing interest in another person's work.

"It's an honour," Mu Qing said, slightly tilting his head. He was young, he reminded himself, so he had to act restlessly and exude excitement.

He knew he couldn't keep it up, especially with Feng Xin looking down on him for his efforts. Mu Qing quickly adjusted his approach after noticing this. He shifted from his warm disposition to a colder attitude that was more natural for him, though the change was hardly noticeable.

Or so he thought, because Xie Lian's lips curled in amusement, and his eyes twinkled with interest.

This revealed to Mu Qing that Xie Lian was more perceptive than his handler had led him to believe, and that he had a penchant for mischief, implying Mu Qing was in for a world of trouble.

Surprisingly, Mu Qing, enamoured by the sight of a plotting crown prince, didn't seem to mind.

Weeks passed with no incident. Mu Qing kept a low profile and concentrated on his domestic responsibilities as well as his actual objectives. He left the rooms spotless. Taizi Dianxia's robes were flawless and his shoes appeared to be as new as the day they arrived. Knowing how the crown prince longingly looked out the window whenever he could, he kept the scents in Taizi Dianxia's room light and earthy.

Mu Qing had long informed his handler of the crown prince's agitation. Because Taizi Dianxia had no idea an attempt on his life had been made, he felt that being barred from leaving palace grounds was unjust. Mu Qing had been assured by his handler that the king had already been informed, but given that the crown prince was still very much inside, the king had clearly decided against entertaining his son's whims.

Mu Qing also discovered that Taizi Dianxia's bodyguard-in-training, Feng Xin, was more than just a royal shield and sword, and had grown close to the crown prince.

Taizi Dianxia frequently tried to entice him into various games of play, which were met with excitement or a sad apology when the apprentice was on duty.

Feng Xin alternated between being a stuttering mess and a calm royal family servant. When it came to Taizi Dianxia, Mu Qing couldn't find a pattern for when Feng Xin acted like the former or the latter, and he couldn't hold back an exhausted sigh when he had to conclude that Feng Xin was simply an idiot.

To his frustration, Mu Qing discovered that he was widely despised in the palace. Feng Xin not only distrusted him, but the other attendants and guards avoided him as well.

Mu Qing's low birth was no secret. For him to still be Taizi Dianxia's personal retainer? Of course, this would lead to complaints. His every move was scrutinised, and his work was frequently made more difficult to teach him a lesson.

Mu Qing's tools would go missing or be misplaced in places he had no business being, such as near the queen's quarters, where only women were permitted to go. If he didn't watch his laundry like a hawk, he'd inadvertently discover tears that he'd have to painstakingly repair.

None of these behaviours was a threat to Taizi Dianxia, nor did they necessarily stop Mu Qing from performing his duties just yet, so Mu Qing let it be. 

It was almost amusing to watch others try to get him to make mistakes, until it was Feng Xin who almost tripped over a 'misplaced' broom. "Watch where you put these things!" he had snarled at him.

Mu Qing pursed his lips and bowed his head in acknowledgement. "Begging forgiveness, this one will be more mindful in the future." The words were poisonous. Mu Qing felt like spitting rather than accepting responsibility for things he hadn't done.  

Feng Xin snorted, not believing Mu Qing's sweet-talking. Feng Xin stormed off after warning him with a glare, fuming but unwilling to cause a scene.

That same afternoon, Mu Qing was hiding inside the walls of the palace. A complex maze of corridors that Mu Qing knew as well as he did the palace proper. 

He sat down, leaning against the wall of that unlit, pitch-black passageway, and listened in on a conversation between the bodyguard and the crown prince. It was not yet time to make the prince presentable for dinner that evening and Mu Qing had completed all his other tasks. 

He waited and listened in on this conversation because Feng Xin might decide to make his life even more difficult today. He kept himself from scoffing at the thought. It would be easier if Feng Xin posed a threat, as Mu Qing would have a reason to retaliate if Feng Xin attempted anything. But, no, the apprentice bodyguard acted too much like a puppy towards Taizi Dianxia, which the crown prince noticed and loved to tease him about.

And teasing he did, even now. “Feng Xin,” the crown prince cooed. With how dark it was and how intently Mu Qing was listening, he almost hallucinated the corner of Taizi Dianxia’s lips curling up in a titled smirk as if he was in front of him. 

Taizi Dianxia continued: “He apologized. If anything, shouldn’t you be assuring me you won’t trip over a broom again?”

Feng Xin muttered something Mu Qing couldn't hear, but it sounded sufficiently anxious to be something along the lines of an embarrassed agreement.

"Do you have a specific reason for bringing this incident to my attention?" Taizi Dianxia's tone became a little sour.

"He's been slacking off," Feng Xin grumbled. Mu Qing imagined him furrowing his brows and folding his arms. "Servants have complained that his carelessness bothers them."

Mu Qing rolled his eyes in the dark for no one but himself. He was very familiar with those particular servants. They didn't have anything on him, so they couldn't move to report Mu Qing. They did, however, manage to get their rumour mill to spread to the crown prince's close associates.

This was a disaster.

Damn that Feng Xin. If Taizi Dianxia needed an excuse to get rid of him, this would suffice. And what would become of Mu Qing?"

"That's strange." Xie Lian hummed a little tune in that elegant mannerism that Mu Qing was so fond of privately. "I've never found a flaw in his work."

"Granted, neither have I." And Mu Qing took sadistic pleasure in hearing how much admitting that had hurt Feng Xin. "Until the broom."

"Until the broom," crooned Xie Lian. His voice reverted to its gentle tone when he seemingly changed the subject on a whim. "Feng Xin, did you mend your robes by yourself?"

Mu Qing felt as if he'd been dropped into a bottomless pit of freezing water. Did Taizi Dianxia notice the patched-up clothes? He forced himself to calm down. To his horror, he had missed a portion of the conversation. A mistake he hadn't made in a long time.

"I figured," Xie Lian responded after only a brief silence to whatever Feng had said. "I found similar repairs in my clothing, too."

Mu Qing blinked, still unable to see anything in the dark. What Taizi Dianxia said couldn't be right. No one would dare to rip His Highness's robes. They wouldn't even if it had inexplicitly meant saving their lives, let alone for the sake of getting to Mu Qing in some way.

Taizi Dianxia's wardrobe was meticulously maintained. Many servants would rather beg to be moved to the stables for a month than risk ruining the crown prince's clothes.

Nobody would do something like that just to bother Mu Qing.

If Taizi Dianxia was truly willing to lie like this, Mu Qing would have to reconsider every note he'd ever written about the crown prince.

Feng Xin demonstrated a sense of awareness when he realised the gravity of what Xie Lian was implying. "That sounds excessive," he mumbled. “It’s odd that laundry would be such a difficult task for him that he’d have to repair so many tears. Before I saw a misplaced tool myself, I thought it was weird so many supposedly caught him slacking off. That guy usually goes to great lengths to ensure he does well.”

Momentarily - and somewhat uncharacteristically, Mu Qing noted - distracted, Xie Lian made an inquisitive noise at that tidbit of information. 

Feng Xin snorted, amused but also a bit ruffled. “I admit he’s somewhat impressive. I once walked in on Mu Qing while he was cleaning. He was in a very contorted position, just so he could reach a tapestry from the staircase, holding himself up with core strength alone.”

“Really?” Xie Lian sounded unlike what Mu Qing had heard before. If he had to put a name to it, his voice sounded almost excited. Eager, like a child who really wanted to watch a performer.

“Yeah, really.” Feng Xin could mock a little in turn, too. 

Xie Lian coughed, getting the conversation back on track. Which was good for Mu Qing, because his chest was aching something fierce within him. He remembered that day. Sure, Feng Xin had seen him, but he had been fine with it, even somewhat smug about it. He liked having something over the bodyguard’s head and he enjoyed silently bragging about anything he was better at than Feng Xin. 

But the thought that Taizi Dianxia could have seen him like that - that the crown prince hinted that he would have wanted to have seen it - had Mu Qing feeling breathless. 

He tried to ignore the feeling and refocused on listening in. It was difficult, but Mu Qing quickly found himself invested again. 

“My usual clothes are left well enough alone,” Xie Lian explained. “I have a few sets that I used to wear informally outside the palace until my father assigned Mu Qing to keep a closer eye on me.”

Mu Qing blinked again. He had no idea. But Feng Xin clearly did, because he hummed along as if he now understood the situation better. 

“I am usually loath to risk exposing them. They will definitely be taken away if Father figures out that they’re mine. Still, I had to find out what was going on somehow.”

It felt wrong to be the one out of the loop, to have missed something so glaring as the crown prince sneaking out. At the very least, Mu Qing's presence had put a stop to his naive behaviour. His instinct had been on point when they met: Xie Lian was hiding a devious side, that trickster. 

“And I was right to,” Xie Lian continued, “If Mu Qing truly were that awful, even my most elaborate pieces would show signs of mistreatment.”

Feng Xin spoke then, with some regret in his voice. “The work we actually know that Mu Qing does is flawless to the point of showing off-” Mu Qing bristled at that “-and what we’re being told is that he is incapable.”

“Mu Qing mends the clothing,” Xie Lian said. “I don’t have proof, but I’m sure of it.”

Mu Qing’s heart skipped a beat, not sure he deserved it.  

“Well, if His Highness is certain, then it must be so.” Feng Xin let out a sigh before suddenly groaning in frustration. Mu Qing was startled enough to briefly imagine the bodyguard pulling at his hair. “Why won’t he say anything?”

Xie Lian hummed. “Maybe he doesn’t think I’ll believe him?” he didn’t sound sure of it. He also sounded a bit sad. “I may have been harsh on him because I’ve been feeling so caged in.”

Feng Xin denied it. “It’s probably me, Taizi Dianxia,” he confessed. “I believed hearsay before I even considered asking him about it. That’s on me. He’s your retainer, I should have tried better to work together with him.”

Mu Qing lowered his head down to his knees. He couldn’t deny that their words were comforting. He didn’t think he needed them to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it was nice to hear they were essentially already convinced of his innocence just because of what sort of person they thought he was.

He mulled it over while Feng Xin and Taizi Dianxia moved on to the next topic of conversation: the dinner Xie Lian did not look forward to. The relationship between the king and his son had been increasingly strained as of late, but the meals spent together only seemed to make it worse.

Perhaps Mu Qing would try to get Feng Xin on board to make a case for giving some freedom back to the crown prince. To repay him.