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chiffxna · 11 months

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A Love Too Dark (01)

The Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Reader

Chapter 01 - A Deal With The Devil

WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC.

This story will contain 18+ mature themes, dark romance, toxic behaviour, blood, violence, stalking, manipulation, a lot of smut, dubious consent, non-consensual content, yandere Marquis de Gramont, power play, and power imbalance, obsession, dark Marquis de Gramont, and abuse of power. The list will be added more as the story progresses. Minors, don't read.

Story Masterlist

NEXT : Chapter 02

"I have to go now, mom," Yn Ln announced to her mother.

Upon hearing her say that, anyone would envision her saying that as she prepared to leave the house and informed that to her mother who was probably cooking in the dining room or handling house chores. Her father was probably napping or watching the television. The usual situation to a healthy family with a normal life, I bet one would say.

But no. It was the complete opposite.

Yn got up from the chair and put it back under the table where she had taken it previously. She glanced at her mother in the hospital bed. The older woman was quietly watching her with a pair of tired eyes, but upon realizing her daughter was looking at her, she put on a weak smile and said, "Be careful on your way home, dear."

Yn stepped closer to her bedside and grasped her hand. She regarded her mother with a sympathetic smile, "It'd be nice if you could come back home too."

Her mother tightened her hold on her oldest daughter's hand and replied, "Soon enough, honey. Soon enough. I just need to stay in the hospital for a long while. The doctors will do their best for me, you know. Then we can go home together."

Her mother was always an optimistic person and very patient. Her kindness knows no bounds and it's what kept her going through all the pain and suffering she had to endure. It hurt Yn so much to see her lying in that hospital bed, weak and frail. Her illness had taken a toll on her body and Yn wished there was some easy, quick way to make her better, but she knew the only path was through the expensive medical treatments needed for her recovery.

As Yn let go of her hand, she gave her a small peck on the forehead and whispered, "I'll visit you again tomorrow. Take care, mom."

Yn stepped outside the hospital and called for a CarRyte. She glanced at her wristwatch, realizing it was already seven in the evening. Her worry started to grow; she had an eight o'clock shift at the casino and she needed to be punctual, knowing her employer was particular with timeliness.

Soon enough, her ride arrived fast enough for Yn. She got into the CarRyte, breathed a sigh of relief, leaning back in the seat. She closed her eyes and tried to relax but her mind was racing. She was worried about her mother and the mounting medical bills. Since her father had long deserted them, Yn was the one who had to take care of the family and was responsible for collecting enough money for her mother’s treatment.

Upon arriving at the casino, she went straight to a door on the side of the building. A notice with "No Entry" was glued to the door, though she did not heed it since she knew it was actually a door for the casino's staffs only. She then entered an empty corridor and headed straight for the staff's changing area. She was welcomed by her female co-workers who were all wearing a seductive black bunny outfit with bunny ears atop their heads. Each one had applied makeup differently - some went for a lighter look and others had gone for heavier makeup styles.

As she sat down at her table, a woman in her late twenties - already dressed up in their uniform which was the seductive black bunny outfit - approached Yn and said with an urgent tone, "Oh, Yn! Thanks God, you're finally here!"

Yn glanced at her with surprise and inquired, "Emily! What's the matter? Something happened?"

Emily suddenly placed a set of the bunny outfit on its hanger and hung it beside Yn's makeup table. Her actions were hasty and hurried which caused Yn to watch her with puzzlement. Emily paused as she gazed back at her best pal, then proceeded to shake her head in confusion before uttering, "Well? Get ready, girl! Mr. Malone told us all to finish up as soon as possible!"

That got Yn to immediately start her skincare routine while asking with urgent tone, "Oh, he did?! Why?!"

“Oh dear, you didn’t check your phone again, did you?” Emily shrugged as she hurriedly dragged a chair to sit beside her friend. She replied, "I don't know why but he did say there's something he's going to tell us. He wants us to be ready thirty minutes earlier than usual."

"Don't tell me he's going to scold all of us again," Sophia, one of their coworkers, who was sitting at her makeup table which was located next to Yn's, spoke up, apparently overhearing Emily.

"What did we do, though?" Emily said, rolling her eyes, as she began helping Yn in her makeup. She continued, "He praised us for our excellent work last night."

Emma, another coworker, stated, "Maybe he had checked the CCTV and saw Sophia sneaking a drink from behind the casino."

Sophia scoffed in response, "I wasn't sneaking! I was just taking a break and having a sip of... water."

The rest of the girls laughed in unison, knowing that Sophia just blatantly lied since there was a delay in her answer, a crystal clear sign that she was lying. Plus, she was notoriously famous among them - even Mr. Malone knew - for taking sips of alcohol behind the casino during her breaks. Yn hurriedly put on her light makeup with Emily’s help, still worried about what Mr. Malone wanted to tell them. She knew he was a strict employer but she didn't want to disappoint him, not when this was the highest paying job she'd ever gotten. Not when her mother's life depended on it.

Once Yn had done her makeup and slipped into her bunny costume, she stepped out of the staff's changing area with the other girls. They all then assembled in the casino, still devoid of customers since they hadn't opened yet.

There they saw Mr. Malone talking on the phone, seemingly anxious over something. Once he saw them, he hung up the phone abruptly without saying goodbye to whoever on the other side of the call. It was his habit to hang up curtly.

"Took y'all long enough," Mr. Malone began, "Right. I'm gathering you all here to tell you that tonight we will have a very important customer. A VVIP. A very, very important VVIP. He's rich, important, and very influential."

Some of the girls behind Yn tried to restrain their grin after hearing what their employer said. They were very much interested in this VVIP in an instant upon knowing it's a male and that he's rich. The latter added, "I want you all to cater to his needs and whatever he wants. Give your two hundred percent of excellent service for him!"

Then his voice dropped to a dangerous tone. The others knew this as a warning tone for them. He said darkly, "If I hear even one word of complaint from him about one of you, whoever it is will be fired on the spot."

Every girl instantly tensed up. Yn felt a lump form in her throat. She knew how high the stakes were. This job meant everything to her, and if she were to lose it, she wouldn't have anything to fall back on. She clenched her hands together, determined to give her best performance. She glanced around at her coworkers, who all seemed to share her anxiety. They all knew how strict Mr. Malone was, but this felt different. This felt like their livelihoods were on the line.

Mr. Malone stated, "I believe having one bunny-girl to accompany him tonight is crucial to ensure perfect service, so... Yn, would you be up for it?"

Yn was stupefied. She sensed all eyes were locked on her as she remained speechless. Mr. Malone noticed the startled look on her face and commented, "What? You accompanied a VIP last night and received nothing but praises from him. You could do the same for this VVIP tonight again, ain't cha?"

He made it sound so simple. But Yn was uneasy this time, aware that a mistake or unlucky accident might lead to her dismissal from the job she had done so well for months. Yn hesitated, unsure if she could handle the pressure of catering to a VVIP. She thought about the high possibility of losing her job and the fear of not being able to provide for her mother if she gets fired.

Suddenly, Amelia, another coworker of hers, put up her hand and spoke up, "Mr. Malone, I volunteer to accompany him, please."

All eyes, including Yn's, were thrown to Amelia. All of them were astounded and in disbelief. Mr. Malone looked at her skeptically, "Are you sure, Amelia? You've only been working here for a month. I'm not sure if you're ready for this level of service yet."

Amelia replied with confidence, "I'm sure, Mr. Malone. I'd love to take this opportunity."

Mr. Malone thought for a moment before nodding his head. "Alright then, Amelia. You'll be accompanying the VVIP as his bunny-girl tonight. The rest of you, all the other customers also deserve the best service from you. Got it?"

The girls all nodded their heads in agreement, relieved that the decision had been made and that they were not holding a huge risk of being fired above their head, though they were still under the risk if the VVIP even muttered a word of complaint about any of them.

Mr. Malone said, "That's all. Remember. Two hundred percent of excellent service. No complaint from him. Oh, and don't forget your mask, ladies."

All of them dispersed to prepare for the opening. Yn headed to the table behind the main casino and opened the first drawer. There she saw a bunch of new, plain black masks and grabbed one. Once she put it on, Amelia came up to her and said with a smile, "Hey, Yn. Could you get another one for me?"

"Sure," replied Yn as she picked one and gave it to her.

Amelia thanked her and put it on. She looked back at Yn and heaved out a sigh, saying, "Gosh, I'm nervous. I'm starting to regret volunteering."

"Hey, don't be nervous," consoled Yn, "You were confident to take on the job. Get that confidence back. You can do it, Amy."

Amelia smiled, though she could not hide the anxiety gleaming in her eyes. She then turned her body fully to face Yn and, with a soft and low tone, she said, "Umm, sorry if it seemed abrupt... like I'm taking that opportunity away from you. I just want to..."

Yn raised both of her eyebrows, awaiting Amelia to finish her sentence. The latter appeared at a loss for words, pondering on what to say next, that it gave a short delay in her sentence and made her feel awkward.

"I just want to prove that I could handle VVIPs," disclosed Amelia to Yn, "I know that Mr. Malone thinks less of me because I'm new. So I want to show him that I can do this."

Yn put her hand on Amelia's shoulder as a gesture of comfort and the former said with a soft smile, "Amy, don't overthink like that. As strict as Mr. Malone is, he is patient and he wants you to take all the time you need to improve. That's how he treated me before. He let me handle the easy tasks, then one day he suddenly said I'm ready and he told me to be a VIP's bunny-girl that night. You need to trust him and the process."

Amelia smiled at Yn, feeling a bit self-assured, though she ended up asking her, "Is it too late to back out now?"

Yn squeezed her shoulder comfortingly and responded, "Perhaps not too late, but hey. Try this opportunity first. Maybe the VVIP tonight is a good customer. You may never know."

Amelia took a deep breath, clearly attempting to soothe herself down, before she put on the mask. Yn also did the same, properly donning the mask, covering her nose and mouth with it, before she looked back at Amelia.

"You're wearing it tonight?" inquired Yn.

Amelia sent her a sly smile and said, "Yeah. Mr. Malone didn't exactly tell us who the VVIP is, so I'm wearing it just to be safe. Wouldn't want an elderly man groping me even though he's a billionaire."

Yn chuckled, "That's true. Anyway, I have to go and set the mask signs near the entrance. Good luck, Amy!"

Amelia replied back with a chirp, "You too!"

Yn went to grab a few stainless steel signage stand which depicted the mask system in this bunny casino. The signage plainly showed that there was such system here in the casino to protect the staffs and bunny-girls.

Yn brought the stands to the entrance and placed them on either side of the entrance door. She sent a smile to the casino bouncer before she looked back at the stand and read it:

Bunny-girls with mask, do not harass them in any way.

Bunny-girls without mask, may be propositioned for private rooms and physical contact with consent and tipping.

Yn took a deep breath and adjusted her bunny ears and the mask on her face, ensuring it concealed her nose and mouth properly. She then walked into the casino and helped her coworkers in preparing for the opening. Eventually, Mr. Malone opened the main door of the casino and announced its opening to everyone. Almost instantly, customers began streaming in as the music blared and the bunny-girls started attending to guests' needs.

As the night wore on, Amelia found herself concentrating deeply in her duty. She had become so preoccupied that any thought about the upcoming mysterious VVIP eventually faded from her mind. As she glanced around and checked on her fellow colleagues, it appeared that they were also busy serving and tending to the customers as well. The sense of responsibility was shared by everyone present.

Just then, Mr. Malone's voice echoed through the casino, "Attention all bunny-girls! The VVIP has arrived. I repeat, the VVIP has arrived. Please prepare to greet him at the entrance."

Yn's heart raced as she made her way to the entrance, joining the other bunny-girls as they all left the patrons they were tending to and lined up on both sides of the red carpet. She could feel the nervous energy in the air as they all waited for the arrival of the VVIP.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps growing louder against the marble floor caught Yn's attention. She glanced towards the entrance, and her breath caught in her throat as she saw a man with his bodyguards entering through the entrance.

He was tall with broad shoulders and a commanding presence. Adorned in a dashing all-white three-piece suit which was impeccably tailored to his muscular frame, accentuating every inch of his chiseled physique, he exuded an air of confidence and power that commanded attention from everyone in the casino. His piercing cold eyes looked straight ahead, briefly scanning the line of bunny-girls, including Yn.

For Yn, she was visibly transfixed and speechless at how gorgeous he was. Her mouth opened slightly as she gaped at the tall man in white. Her eyes widened and her gaze lingered on him for several seconds, unable to look away. His chiseled features and commanding presence had a captivating effect on her. The way he moved with confidence filled her with admiration and awe.

And she could tell that she was not the only one feeling the same.

Some of the bunny-girls in both queues visibly inhaled in complete awe of his stunning irresistibility. Very few even exchanged knowing glances and smiled in elation at the fact that they got a very charming customer.

"Goddamn, he's hot as fuck," whispered Emily.

Sophia joined in the hushed conversation, "Amelia is one lucky bitch."

"I know right," replied Emily, "If I knew he would be this sexy, I would have volunteered as tribute right away."

Emma chimed in a whisper with a dreamy gaze towards the VVIP, "I want to make out with him."

Emily added, "Bitch, I wouldn't just make out with him. If I have nothing to lose, I would've have knelt down in front of him by now, you know what I mean."

Those who heard her tried their hardest to refrain from chuckling. That's when Yn realized something. Most of the bunny-girls started to sneakily remove their mask. When some of them caught each other doing the same thing, they merely grinned mischievously and hid away their cloth. They were obviously hoping that they would catch the interest of the captivating VVIP.

Yn then cast her eyes onto Amelia who was supposed to be the attractive VVIP's personally bunny-girl. Her eyebrows raised at the sight of Amelia's fully revealed and blushing face. She had already removed the mask as soon as she laid her eyes on her customer. Yn chuckled inwardly in amusement.

As the VVIP strode closer to the end of the red carpet where stood Mr. Malone and Amelia, the former bowed respectfully to him and said, "The Marquis de Gramont, welcome to the Bunny Club Casino! I'm Adrian Malone, the owner of this establishment. Allow me to personally welcome you on behalf of the entire staff. If there is anything my humble establishment can provide for you, please don't hesitate to ask. This way, please."

The Marquis did not utter a word. Instead, he merely nodded his head in acknowledgment and let Mr. Malone lead him towards the luxurious VIP room. Amelia followed suit with the VVIP's bodyguards which was all clad in dark suits.

"Good luck, Amy!" Emma shouted in a whisper to Amelia, "You'll definitely need it!"

Amelia turned her head around to look back at her colleagues and sent them a thumbs-up and an excited grin, evidently feeling enthusiastic at having such dashing customer as her first personal client. She then entered the VIP room with the rest of them, disappearing from the others' view.

Yn smiled warmly, hoping that the new girl would have a great experience. She needed something to help her grow, and maybe the fact that the VVIP was quite attractive could give Amelia's self-esteem a much-needed boost.

"But oh my God!" Emily chirped to the rest of the bunny-girls, "He is the Marquis! Oh my God! The Marquis!"

"What's a 'markis'?" Emma asked innocently.

Emily sent her a silly deadpan stare and corrected her, "It's Marquis, you innocent goof. Marquis."

"That's how I said it, right?" said Emma, "Markis."

"It's Marquis," Emily then proceeded to spell it slowly for Emma. Once the latter got it, Emily added, "Anyway, a Marquis is a nobleman. And not just any nobleman, he's one of the most influential and powerful figure in all of France. It's like he's practically royalty. That means he's got the wealth, power and connections! And he's here, in our casino!"

"Yeah, no wonder Mr. Malone warned us to do our best service. It's because the VVIP is a Marquis," Sophia interjected, suddenly sounding grim out of the blue, "But hey. Now that we know who he is, I heard he's a powerful French aristocrat but he also seems to be involved with the underworld, you know. He is dangerous."

Yn was taken aback by Sophia's sudden dark comment. She had never heard anything about the Marquis. This was her first time learning and meeting him and she'd already heard of unsavory rumors about him. Sure, it's just rumors. But Sophia was known to be well-informed about the latest gossip in the casino. She couldn't help but wonder if there was any truth to her words.

"Woah, that's crazy. Is that true?" Emma asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Sophia shrugged nonchalantly, "I don't know. Just rumors, I guess. But he's not someone to be messed with, that's for sure. Just be careful, girls."

Emily rolled her eyes, "Oh, please. Don't start with the scary stories, Sophia. It's probably made by some geezer who is jealous of him. Sure, he's rich but that doesn't necessarily mean he's dangerous and is involved with crime. And we all know that not everything that people talk here is true."

Yn nodded in agreement. She didn't even want to think of any possible risk of danger tonight. Not when Amelia was with the man in question.

"Well, if Mr. Malone allows such man walk into his casino, I'm sure everything will be fine," Yn said, trying to change the subject, "In the meantime, let's focus on our duties. We don't want to keep any of our clients waiting."

The others nodded in agreement, and the bunny-girls dispersed around the casino floor, tending to the needs of their customers who were enjoying with everything the casino had to offer.

Approximately thirty minutes had passed and every staff was fully focused on their task, living up to their boss' expectation and ensuring that the customers had nothing but the best experience at the Bunny Club Casino. Yn was in the middle of serving a round of drinks when Emily appeared next to her and whispered, "Hey, you notice that Mr. Malone hasn't come out of the VIP room yet?"

Yn threw a quick glance at the door of the VIP room before she looked back at her close friend and replied, "Maybe he's discussing about something with the Marquis? He is not going to let someone as important as that getting away."

Emily snorted, "Maybe he wants to make another casino in Paris? Well, that does sound like him. But aren't you curious why the Marquis came to our casino in the first place?"

"Maybe he wants to enjoy it while he's staying in our country," Yn guessed as she picked up the glasses and used plates from a table which a bunch of patrons had just left.

"But fishy, you know," commented Emily, "But Amy is one lucky girl. Even if the Marquis is shady, he's practically sex on legs."

Yn couldn't argue on that. The Marquis was undeniably attractive. But she didn't want to think too much about someone who was way too good for her or someone who’s going to stay a stranger to her. That was how she evaded being attached to any man whom she saw no future with.

Suddenly, Emma rushed towards them, looking panicked, "Guys!"

Yn and Emily's eyes widened in surprise at her unforeseen appearance. Emma gasped out in panic before she told them, "Amy's crying! She's in the staff's changing room!"

Yn's heart sank at the news. She knew in an instant that something terrible had happened in the VIP room and unfortunately the victim of the situation was Amelia. Yn and Emily exchanged wide-eyed glances before the three of them rushed towards the changing room.

As they got closer, they could hear the sounds of Amelia's sobs getting louder. Yn's heart raced as she pushed open the door to the changing room and found Amelia sitting on a couch with tears streaming down her face. Her makeup was smudged and her hair was a mess. Sophia was already by her side, consoling her to no avail apparently. Upon hearing the door opening, Amelia looked up and noticed the three girls, her eyes puffy and red.

"What happened, Amy?" Emily asked, her voice laced with concern.

Amelia sniffled and wiped at her eyes before finally speaking up, "It's the Marquis..."

She delayed as she took a shaky breath, somehow not breathing properly due to her crying fit. Sophia started rubbing her back up and down as Yn, Emily and Emma stayed standing before them.

Amelia's voice was scratchy and strained, broken up by her gasps and sobs, as she tried to explain, "I was standing by the sofa while he was talking with Mr. Malone. Then... he saw that huge wall painting in that VIP room. You guys know what I'm talking about, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Emma, "There is a huge abstract art in that room. Yn actually brought that."

Yn nodded her head, recognizing which painting that was and wordlessly admitting that it was that same painting she had given Mr. Malone one month ago.

Amelia spoke up, "Yes, that. The Marquis stared at it and he didn't even listen to Mr. Malone's offer to collab together. Then he spoke about how that abstract painting is full of meaning and whatever it is. And I laughed. Suddenly, he looked at me but he seemed angry. It's like I offended him but I didn't! I just snorted!"

She continued, "Then, while he's glaring at me as if I'm a cockroach, he said to Mr. Malone that a collab with this casino would be stupid since he's hired someone uneducated like me to work here!"

Amelia's face crumpled in fresh tears as she buried her face in her hands. Her sobs intensified as she recounted the Marquis' words, causing Sophia to rub her back even harder. The rest of the bunny-girls in the room were speechless.

Yn felt a lump form in her throat as she thought about the Marquis' arrogance and his ability to make Amelia feel so small. She knew that the Marquis was a powerful man who had a reputation for being difficult to deal with, but she never thought that he would be so cruel to someone who could not control herself from laughing.

Emily moved to sit next to Amelia on the couch and put her arm around her, "Don't listen to him, Amy. He's just a snob. You're talented and smart. You don't need his approval."

"But... but..." Amelia stammered while sniveling, "What about Mr. Malone? The Marquis ridiculed me. He complained about me. Mr. Malone would fire me! I don't want to lose this job! Even if I have to dress in this sexy bunny costume, it pays well! We get tips every day! I can't lose this!"

Yn's heart sank as she watched Amelia break down further. She knew how desperate Amelia was for this job and how much it meant to her. Like Yn, she also came from a family with financial problem. Yn couldn't let the Marquis' rude behavior ruin everything for Amelia.

"We won't let that happen, Amy," Yn said, her voice firm and full of conviction. "We'll talk to Mr. Malone. We'll make sure he knows that the Marquis was the one out of line and that you don't deserve to be treated that way."

Amelia looked at Yn with tear-filled eyes, hope shining in her gaze. Sophia nodded her head in agreement and Emily joined in saying, "Yeah, forget about him. He's a fuckwad! And we'll convince Mr. Malone for you!"

Yn, Sophia, and Emily exchanged determined glances, all agreeing to help Amelia in any way they can. Without even discussing it properly, they knew with a glance that they would altogether rush into Mr. Malone's office and persuade him forcefully. Seeing the overwhelming support from her friends, Amelia wiped away her tears and smiled warmly at them, the first one in a while.

"Thank you..." Amelia said, her voice filled with sincere gratitude, as she looked down and wiped the dried tears on her cheeks.

Yn smiled back at her, "We are here for you, Amy. You may not get to see Anita. She recently quitted as a bunny-girl but she kept telling us that bunny-girls stick together and help each other out. That's exactly what we're going to do."

Amelia's smile widened as she stared at Yn. The dense, oppressive atmosphere in the room suddenly dispersed, replaced with an uplifting sense of camaraderie and support as they all shared a moment of unity and solidarity. They all knew that no matter what, they would always have each other's backs.

Suddenly, the door to the changing room was pushed open. They looked to see it was Rachel, another bunny-girl who was not close with them. Rachel observed them for a moment, sensing that some drama had transpired. She then noticed the puffy and red eyes of Amelia and her smudged makeup. Understanding dawned in her head, knowing that something bad had happened while Amelia was serving the VVIP.

She didn’t ask for any detail. Instead, she turned to someone else and informed, "Yn, Mr. Malone called for you at the VIP room."

With that, she spun around and left the dressing room. Everyone was quiet after her statement, taking some time to process what they had heard. A nervous energy filled the air.

Suddenly, the door was pushed open again and Rachel came in halfway, looking at them. She then added, "Now."

That seemed to snap everyone out of their trance and Yn glanced at her friends, noticing the uneasiness on their face. Amelia seemed particularly worried for her. Knowing there was no escape from the predicament, Yn took a deep breath. She then excused herself before heading out with Rachel away from the changing room.

Once they arrived at the door of the VIP room where bodyguards were stationed, Rachel left, leaving Yn to prepare herself for what's about to come. The latter took a moment to compose herself, even checking if the mask on her face was properly put on, before pushing open the door and letting herself in quietly.

Black and gold furniture dominated the room with velvet sofas and chairs; a grand chandelier hanging in the center. Gleaming golden accents adorn the walls and luxurious rugs ran across the floor. The whole ambiance was regal, hinting at sophistication and power; the lighting was dimmed, creating an intimate atmosphere.

There she saw the Marquis de Gramont, standing in front of the huge abstract painting. Even the way he stood screamed power and confidence. His eyes were fixated on the gigantic wall art as if it was an entity he wanted to understand. It was that moment Yn figured that the Marquis was a person who truly appreciated and cherished art which explained why he spoke lowly of Amelia for laughing at a painting.

"Psst!"

She threw a glance at the source of the sound and realized it was Mr. Malone. He gestured for her to come closer to him. Once she did, he whispered at her with a reprimanding tone, "Yn, take over Amelia's place! She couldn't keep her mouth shut and the Marquis is pissed! Now do your job and get his desserts from the kitchen!"

In an instant, Yn rushed off to the kitchen to get the desserts which the Marquis had requested. The delicacies were ready to serve by the time she arrived so she wasted no time, snatching them up from the counter before scurrying back to the VIP room.

As she opened the door, she heard multiple voices in the VIP room. It was the Marquis and Mr. Malone conversing and the subject was apparently about more paintings in the establishment.

"Yes, I agree!" Mr. Malone sounded enthusiastic of the idea, but for those who knew him well like Yn, she knew it was just a facade to make the Marquis happy. Mr. Malone continued, "That's an amazing idea! Aesthetic paintings all over the casino would surely liven up the space! If you want, you could recommend suitable paintings for my humble establishment!"

The Marquis turned around after staring at the abstract painting for so long. He strode back to sit down on the black and gold sofa. Yn took another deep breath before she approached him with a tray of desserts in her hand.

The Marquis didn't even look at her when she approached him. He was too engrossed staring at the abstract painting again while absentmindedly listening to Mr. Malone who was trying his best to flatter the Marquis and keep him happy. Yn surmised that he was a man of refined taste and didn't like to be disturbed when he was deep in thought so she took extra care not to make any noise as she set the tray of desserts down on the coffee table in front of him.

"Art evokes emotions and enhances the atmosphere," the Marquis spoke up, rendering Yn speechless as this was the first time she heard him speak. His French accent was clear and distinct. It actually made him sound intelligent and intimidating. He added while Yn was carefully placing his desserts on the table, "It's crucial to display more paintings in a casino. It creates a captivating and immersive environment for patrons to enjoy."

"Such beautiful words, sir!" crowed Mr. Malone, "I see that you really appreciate art and beauty, and I couldn't agree more. I am honored to have you see my establishment!"

The Marquis didn't respond. Instead, while Yn was arranging the placement of the desserts on the table, he reached out to grab one of them without glancing at her. He took a small scoop, savoring the flavor.

Yn got up to her full height and walked away to stand by the side of the sofa the Marquis was sitting on. That's when he gestured to the abstract painting which he had been staring non-stop and inquired Mr. Malone, "I like this. Where did you buy this?"

Yn tensed up and Mr. Malone stuttered, a bit taken aback by the sudden question. He sneaked a glance at Yn and responded, "Umm... I did not buy it, sir. My staff here, Yn, actually handed this to me for my birthday."

He even gestured to Yn as he disclosed how he had gotten the painting. Suddenly, the Marquis lifted his head and looked at Yn properly for the first time. She stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest. She stayed mute, choosing to stare at the floor to not make eye contact with the Marquis so as not to offend him. She could feel his piercing gaze on her as he looked her up and down, taking in every detail about her.

For a moment, the Marquis said nothing. He continued to stare intently at Yn, making her feel uneasy. She could feel the intensity of his gaze and it made her skin crawl.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Marquis spoke up, "Yn. And your last name?"

Yn's heart skipped a beat as the Marquis addressed her. She took a deep breath before responding in a low voice, "Ln, sir."

The Marquis nodded slowly in response, his eyes still glued on her figure. The deep resonance of his voice seemed to linger in the air as he enunciated her full name as if savoring the taste of it on his tongue, "Yn Ln."

Yn subconsciously looked at him as her whole name was mentioned. She then made eye contact with him. His eyes were deep pools of darkness that seemed to drink in her very soul. It was an intimidating yet mesmerizing sight and she felt as if time had stopped and all was silent around her.

Then, as if feeling shocked and in disbelief at what she did, she swiftly looked away, staring hard at the floor as she prayed inwardly that she did not screw anything up.

The Marquis smirked to himself, amused by Yn's reaction. He then took another bite of the dessert on the tray and leaned back on the sofa, his eyes still fixed on her.

His voice was smooth and velvety as he said, "That painting is impressive. Who is the painter?"

Yn could not help but feel like he was testing her and what she knew of the painting. She cleared her throat before responding softly, "It is Wassily Kandinsky."

The Marquis nodded thoughtfully, still staring at Yn intently, "Ah, Kandinsky. I figured. I've always found his work to be intriguing. The use of color and shape to evoke emotion is quite remarkable."

He finally tore his gaze away from Yn, shifting them to Mr. Malone who was standing anxiously next to the sofa the Marquis was occupying. The latter told him with an air of authority and power, "I want more paintings like this in the casino. Find me more of Kandinsky's works or any other abstract art that you think would fit the atmosphere here."

"Certainly, sir," Mr. Malone responded, "Does that mean you agree to have my business under your wing? Twenty percent cut for you?"

Yn's eyes widened as she silently observed. Hearing that, she then had an inkling of the true purpose the Marquis came to the casino.

The Marquis suddenly stated with a small smirk, "Forty for me."

Mr. Malone's face fell in disbelief at the Marquis' counteroffer. "Forty? But sir, please reconsider. This casino-"

The Marquis leaned forward on the sofa with his hands still holding the desserts, his eyes turning sharp and cold as he spoke in a low, menacing tone, "Do not question my terms, Adrian Malone. If you want my protection, forty it is."

Mr. Malone was nonplussed. The VVIP stared at him with a smug look before he added, "Unless you want to increase my cut to fifty."

Mr. Malone swallowed hard, knowing that he had no choice but to agree. "Of course, sir. Forty it is."

The Marquis leaned back on the sofa, grinning smugly, feeling satisfied with Mr. Malone's compliance, "Then we have a deal, Malone."

He turned his attention back to his delicacies and scooped a spoonful of ice cream. He closed his eyes and savored the sweetness, relishing the taste as if it was the only thing in the world that mattered. Yn watched him silently. There was a certain air of mystery surrounding him that screamed danger. She couldn't help but feel intimidated and scared of him, even though he was tasting the desserts like a child.

Suddenly, the Marquis opened his eyes and looked at her. She felt a shiver run down her spine as he caught her staring. He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a sly smile as he said, "Would you like some?"

Yn averted her gaze meekly, feeling her cheeks flush, as she shook her head, "No, thank you, sir."

"Are you certain?" the Marquis asked, his French accent thick and his voice holding an amused tone.

Yn swallowed hard, looking at him through her eyelashes shyly. She could feel his piercing gaze on her and it made her feel uneasy.

"Yes," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

The Marquis chuckled softly as he stared at her unwaveringly. All of a sudden, he rose to his feet with his desserts still in his hand. Then he began to make his way towards Yn, causing the bunny-girl to be alarmed and anxious. His gaze was deep and sharp as he strode towards her slowly, taking his time while exuding an air of power.

Yn stared at the floor, feeling a huge sense of unease wash over her, as she heard his footsteps growing louder towards her. Soon enough, he stood in front of her. The height difference between them was huge since he was a very, very tall man.

She was no longer staring at the floor. Instead, it was his chest and his dashing three-piece suit. The fabric hugged his figure perfectly, making him look even more imposing. She kept her gaze on his chest, not wanting to meet his gaze and make eye contact.

The Marquis then bent down, leaning his head downward that his face ended up entering Yn's view. Her eyes widened in shock and terror as she couldn't help but look up to meet his gaze. He was bending his head down to have her look at him directly. His tall, powerful figure loomed over her as his head dipped down, head-level with hers. His face was stern, unflinching and demanding her attention. His expression conveyed a sense of power and dominance over her as if he was expecting her to obey his commands.

With his face close to her, he smirked and said, "Finally, you look at me."

Yn was transfixed by his gaze, her wide eyes unmoving as she observed his face. His expression was firm and fierce, yet at the same time there was a hint of smugness and confidence in his smirk as he studied her. His deep eyes seemed to bore into her and she could feel the power emanating from him. His close proximity to her made her feel vulnerable. She was speechless under his gaze, unsure how to respond but it seemed that he was fine with her making eye contact with him.

While he fixed his deep gaze on her, he addressed to someone else, "Malone, explain to me about the mask system here."

That caused Yn to register that she was still donning the black mask, concealing her nose and mouth effectively. Mr. Malone was taken aback by the sudden question directed at him and he explained, "Umm... To protect the bunny-girls, I establish the system that the girls with mask are off-limits. Customers are not allowed to harass them or touch them in any way without explicit consent. However, the bunny-girls without masks can be asked for a private room and physical contact is allowed within limits."

The Marquis nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Yn's face, "Interesting."

Mr. Malone breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the Marquis seemed to approve it. However, the Marquis wasn't finished with Yn as he asked her with a smirk, "So, Yn, remove your mask for me."

Yn's heart thudded in her chest as she stared at the Marquis, her body frozen in place. She knew she couldn't take off her mask, not now, not ever. Taking the mask off would reveal her true identity to some stranger and would bring danger to herself.

"I-I can't, sir," she stuttered out, her voice barely audible.

The Marquis raised an eyebrow, his smirk remained as if her denial was a joke to him, "And why not?"

Yn bit her lip, her mind racing. She had to come up with a plausible excuse, and fast. "It's uh... I feel much safer wearing a mask."

The Marquis gave a smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement. His lips then parted to let out a deep and throaty chuckle. But then, in the blink of an eye, the smirk fell and his features hardened. His voice deepened as he spoke with an undeniable authority, "Take off your mask."

Yn's eyes widened with fright as she stared at the Marquis, her gaze only broken as she shifted it towards Mr. Malone in hope for help. However, instead of support, she found only his hard frown and stern gaze, conveying his lack of help. Yn's heart plummeted and she knew there was no escape from the situation.

Trembling with fear, Yn slowly lifted her hand to remove the elastic strap that held the mask in place. Her fingers fumbled as she struggled to undo the clasp. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she managed to remove the mask and reveal her face to the Marquis.

For a moment, he stared at her intently, his gaze scanning her features with an intensity that made Yn feel exposed and vulnerable as if she was standing naked in front of him. She lowered her gaze, unable to meet his intense stare.

"Hmm," he harrumphed thoughtfully, his voice low and husky that way.

Yn felt her cheeks flush, feeling somewhat embarrassed at how he judged her. She didn't know how to respond, so she simply stayed mute, keeping her gaze on his chest.

That's when she saw him scoop a spoonful of ice cream and neared it towards her mouth. He dipped his head down again, letting his face enter her vision, before he said with a smirk, "Open your mouth."

Yn hesitated for a moment but the Marquis stared at her expectantly, the spoon still held up to her lips. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth, allowing the Marquis to feed her the ice cream. The cold sweetness of the ice cream flooded her senses as it melted within her mouth.

The Marquis watched her carefully as she savored the treat, his eyes glinting with amusement. He seemed to be enjoying her reaction, relishing in the power he held over her. Yn felt the intensity of his gaze and it made her feel both intimidated

He slowly withdrew the spoon from her mouth and looked her in the eye with an intensity that made her feel exposed. His eyes glittered with amusement as he then licked the spoon, savoring the melted ice cream on its surface. The whole sight caught her off guard and she quickly looked away in embarrassment. The act seemed almost dirty and sinful and she couldn't help but feel intimidated by the power the Marquis held over her.

A smirk curved his lips before he suddenly turned and walked away from her. He put away the cup of dessert and strode towards the door of the VIP room while saying, "I'm delighted to have come to an arrangement with you, Malone. As a result of our meeting, it is established that I am the new owner of this casino. And you shall remain in charge as the managing director."

As he arrived at the door, he spun around and gave a pointed look at Mr. Malone and asked firmly, "Am I right?"

"Yes, sir!" replied Mr. Malone, seemingly hesitant to say it, "I will tell every staff about this."

The Marquis tilted his head with a smug smile, "Good. And as for you, Yn..."

Yn became alarmed once again. He turned his gaze back towards her and wore a smirk on his face as he said with his voice low and velvety, "Merci et à la prochaine fois, ma dame."

Yn felt a shiver run down her spine at his words, not understanding what those words meant. The Marquis then stepped out of the VIP room and he was quick to be joined by his bodyguards who were waiting for him outside the door. Yn was then left alone with Mr. Malone.

As soon as the Marquis left, Yn quickly put on her mask and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Mr. Malone looked at her and gave out a huge sigh and said, "Well, at least that went well. A deal is secured."

Yn nodded, still feeling a bit shaken from the encounter. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she said, "Yeah, but he's… intense."

Mr. Malone chuckled, a twinkle in his eye, "That's the Marquis for you. He's not one to be trifled with."

Yn looked at him, confused, and she inquired, "But that man, the Marquis... I've never heard of him before."

Mr. Malone's expression turned serious, "The Marquis is not someone you want to cross, Yn. He's a powerful man with connections in all the wrong places. Even if he's from France, he could find you and ruin your life if he wants to. You should be careful around him. But, now that he has agreed to have us under his wing, this business would be well-protected in finance and safety."

Yn slowly nodded, feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over her. She couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that settled in her stomach but she knew that there was no turning back now. The deal was done and they were now under the Marquis' protection.

But, working with the Marquis would be dangerous, she mused. And she did not want to see him anymore for the rest of her life but it seemed like she didn't have a choice. As Mr. Malone stood up to leave, Yn couldn't help but feel a pang of consternation as she watched him go. She was alone now and the Marquis's words were still ringing in her ears.

"Merci et à la prochaine fois, ma dame."

She didn't know what those words meant but they sounded sinister. Yn shook her head, trying to push away the fear that was gripping her. She stood up and started cleaning up the room and leftover desserts.

NEXT : Chapter 02

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galexystern · 4 months

Text

easy - 18+

pairing; actor!steve harrington/fem!reader

warnings; smut (MDNI), angst, tooth-rotting & v cheesy fluff, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), squirting, unprotected p in v, creampie, jealousy, kinda hurt/comfort, one use of y/n near the end

word count; ~4.3k

desc; while on a press tour for his latest movie, steve says something that sends you into a spiral. something that forces him prove his undying love for you when he gets home.

a/n; based off that interview of tom blyth and rachel zegler on the tbosas press tour. you know the one

read on ao3 / masterlist

You come upon it without trying. Dating an actor can be hard, watching them experience whole lifetimes and romances in a tight two-hour movie or eight-episode show, and your boyfriend Steve Harrington feels things deeper than others, you know. Thus why you never search the press Steve does for any project—you don’t need to hear it.

Of course, if something pops up on your feed, you’ll watch it. It’s impossible to swipe away from his lovely face; you’ve missed him so much as he’s worked on his latest movie, and any whiff of him is captivating. Which is how you see one specific interview he did with his co-star, Nancy Wheeler, the female love interest.

“Who wouldn’t love her? It’s so easy to fall in love with Nancy.”

As soon as you hear it, the words embed themselves. They echo within you all the time. You try to forget them, distract yourself, but it’s useless. You’d hoped they’d go away when Steve comes home, but they’re still there, bouncing around your brain like the world’s most annoying song. When he’s hugging you so tight you can barely breathe. When he’s smiling uncontrollably at being home. When he’s talking nonstop about his adventures on set.

“It’s so easy to fall in love with Nancy.”

You shake your head to get rid of the phrase, and take Steve into the dining room, where the table is ready with all his favorite foods. You’d prepared them in another attempt to quiet your mind, not that it had worked, but it makes him smile so it was worth it anyway. You sit him down and then slide into your seat across from him, watching as he dishes out onto his plate and digs in. You don’t touch it. You’re not hungry.

“And then, believe it or not, I slip on the goddamn banana peel. Can you believe that?” He laughs at his own bad luck. “They used that take for the final cut. Can’t wait for you to see it.” He’s been talking about taking you to the premiere since the date was set. The idea of being in front of reporters and cameras and the movie’s other stars is kind of nauseating.

That’s when you hear yourself blurting out, “Are you in love with Nancy?”

As soon as the words have left your lips you want to suck them back in. Your boyfriend’s eyes have widened astronomically and his hand is frozen, fork stuck halfway between the plate and his open mouth. Convenient, you think helplessly.

“Never mind,” you rush out before he can say anything, “forget it. I’m sorry.”

Steve blinks a couple times, seeming to come back into his body, and then carefully lays his fork down, bite of food unconsumed. He laughs awkwardly, and you cringe. Your fault for ruining the mood. “Can’t really forget that, can I?” He half-jokes before wiping his face with a napkin and then putting it on the table. His chair scoots back as he stands, and for a moment you’re terrified he’s going to walk out, insulted beyond belief that you would ask something so wild, but he just rounds the table to your side and sits in the seat next to you. He angles his body towards you, and maneuvers your chair to face him. You sit there like dead weight.

“Now, my love,” he starts gently, “what was your question?”

You don’t really want to repeat it, but you’ve never been able to deny him anything. “I asked if you were in love with Nancy,” you answer, almost inaudible.

He nods thoughtfully. “And why would you think that?”

He’s not being accusatory, but you still clam up, afraid of what could come next. You shrug instead.

“Angel, I’m not going to be mad at you. I promise.”

You meet his gaze, seeing love and sincerity shining brightly, and finally explain quietly, “I saw that interview you two had. Where you said that it was easy to fall in love with her.”

Steve exhales heavily. “I was afraid that might be it.” Your expression sharpens and he rushes to add, “I’m not in love with her. I was just worried this exact thing could happen after I said it.”

“Why’d you say it then?” You ask petulantly.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I was thinking more in terms of my character instead of myself, truthfully. And I meant more in terms of her character too. Ryan would—and did—find it easy to fall in love with Sarah,” using their character names.

“But you said Nancy’s name.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m so sorry. You don’t usually look at my press so I wasn’t sure if you’d seen it, and I didn’t wanna bring it up and worry you. I know it sounds like an excuse, sweetheart, but I meant what I said. I’m not in love with Nancy.”

“Okay,” you reply, not fully convinced.

Steve can tell. “Baby, look at me, please?” You lift your head to meet his pleading stare. “I’m not in love with Nancy,” he says firmly, drilling it into you. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, and I’m going to stay in love with you for a long time. Forever, if you’ll let me.”

Again, words fly out before you can stop them. “Please don’t tell me that’s a proposal.”

He’s caught by an unexpected laugh. “No, honey. When I propose to you, you’ll know it.” A thrill runs through you with the use of “when” and your lip quirks up. But it’s quick to pop back down, and Steve notices. He pats his thighs. “Come here, angel.”

It takes a few seconds, but you eventually drag yourself from your chair and into his lap, letting your legs dangle and wrapping your arms around his neck. He secures his own around your waist, not letting you fall or slide backwards. You’re close enough that he can nuzzle his nose against yours, and you huff a giggle at the movement. His lips curl into a smile on your cheek.

He moves so that your foreheads are resting together and he can gaze deep into your eyes. You can’t look away. “I love you, baby. Only you. And you can always come to me if you’re upset or unsure or whatever. Okay?” You nod hesitantly. “Do you need me to prove it? That you’re the one for me?” You go breathless when his hands dip down to your ass and press you more firmly against him, feeling his hardness and making your underwear go wet in response. You nod more quickly this time and he smirks.

“C’mere then,” he whispers and you waste no time meeting his lips with yours. He kisses you, slow and languorous, taking his sweet time swiping his tongue across the seam of your mouth and exploring inside when you eagerly open for him. It’s like a dance, how it weaves with yours. This isn’t a time for domination.

You slide your hands into his hair and tug at the strands, swallowing his resulting moan. He seems to know innately when you need air and pulls away, only to come back and run his mouth along your jaw sweetly.

“Such pretty noises,” he murmurs, referring to the little whimpers you let out when he nips lightly at your skin. “Music to my ears, baby.”

If that’s the case, then you can only think he has to be delighted at your whiny moan when he sucks a mark into the pulse point on your neck. Sure enough, he thrusts into you at the sound, hitting your clit perfectly and soaking you further. You want to keep the friction going so you continue the grinding, Steve’s hands fully clutching your hips now to help you along.

Unexpectedly, he stands, bringing you with him. You squeal and wrap your legs around his waist desperately, not really believing he would drop you but feeling a tad scared anyways. He chuckles as he walks the both of you out of the dining room and up the stairs, nudging the bedroom door open with your hips. It’s dark, but the moon is shining in through the open window, creating a soft glow that compliments your boyfriend’s skin and shadows that outline his firm jaw. He sets you down slowly, letting your feet drag down until they softly land on the floor, and once you’re standing securely, he slides his hands up your body until they’re cupping your cheeks.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispers, and you heat at the praise. He must be able to feel it, burning underneath your skin, but he doesn’t point it out.

He dips in and kisses you again, hands going to the hem of your shirt and pulling it up, up, up, over your head, interrupting the kiss for just a moment and then he’s back on you. His fingers explore the newly revealed skin, caressing it reverently, like you’re made of the most precious substance and might break if he presses too hard. Shivers fizzle wherever his touch goes—across your stomach, over your hips, up your back. He finds your bra strap and unhooks it, moving back a touch so he can pull it off along with his own shirt. He comes back immediately, and you gasp into his mouth as your breasts make contact with his chest hair, the wiry feeling of it rubbing against your nipples deliciously.

You break from his intoxicating mouth to whine his name. “Sh,” he soothes, “let me worship you. My angel from heaven.”

Your heart practically melts at the words and all thoughts of pouting disappear. You let Steve push you backwards and sit you on the edge of the bed. He stands above you, two fingers under your chin to angle your head up towards his. It’s almost impossible to look directly at him, the level of love and adoration in his expression blinding in its intensity.

“Love of my life. Can I taste you?” You nod dazedly at his question, unable to do anything else, unwilling to do anything else. “Lay back for me.”

Following orders, you do so, and he slips off your pants. His fingers stroke down your legs as they go, tugging off your socks as well. He kneels and you prop up on your elbows just in time to watch him bury his face between your legs, smelling you through your underwear. They’re already soaked, but he doesn’t seem to mind: he laps at the wet spot and moans. “Missed this so much, baby. Your taste, your smell. Couldn’t stop thinking about doing this the whole time I was gone.”

His fingers hook into the waistband and drag it down, infuriatingly slow, and you’re thinking of whining again when he licks a line up your slit. The intended whine comes out as a moan instead, spurring Steve on to press into you even deeper. You lose yourself in his ministrations, as he swirls his tongue across your folds and up to your clit. When he sucks it into his mouth, you collapse backwards, unable to hold yourself up any longer during this beautiful torture.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says, hand drawing in and rubbing a finger against your entrance. “Let yourself feel it. Feel how much I missed you. How much I love you.”

Your eyes roll back when that finger breaches you, pushing inside and crooking upwards to catch that spot he always knows how to find. “Oh,” you breathe, “finally.”

His lips quirk up and you can tell he must be smirking. “Finally, huh?” You shake your head; he’d misunderstood. “What then, honey?”

“Couldn’t do it right myself,” you pant. “You do it—” your breath hitches as he brushes that spot again, “better.”

“Is that right?” As much as it irritates you, his smug tone is deserved.

“Yes…oh!” You exclaim. He’s inserted another finger, and now both are thrusting inside you, picking up their pace. Little noises fall from you as his tongue flicks your clit in time with his fingers, going deeper with each hit.

“Is my pretty baby going to cum for me?” Steve asks. It’s rhetorical—he can feel you clenching around him, can tell you’re right there on the edge. He knows your body like the back of his hand; he took his time memorizing everything that makes you tick and that knowledge is always tucked away for safekeeping in his head. He’s not in danger of forgetting any of it. So he knows you’re on the precipice. A few more seconds should do it. “Come on,” he urges. “Cum for me, my love. I’ve got you.”

As he suckles your clit, you explode, climax rushing through you like a drug and you float upon it. Your boyfriend works you through it, continuing to curl his fingers inside you to keep you going even higher. All until you’re whimpering from overstimulation—then you think he’s going to remove them. Instead, they increase in speed. You yelp as his mouth dives in again, tongue moving quickly.

“Steve!” You half-shout, eyes squeezing shut as the brilliant torment goes on.

“I know you’ve got another for me, princess,” he says in between licks. “Been wanting to make you squirt again. Got off to the memory of the last time you did every night I was away from you.”

“I can’t,” you cry. You grab his wrist but don’t move it, feeling the orgasm he wants hurtling towards you.

“You can, baby, I know it,” he coaxes. “Gimme another. Just one more and then you get my cock, okay?”

You throw your head back as liquid gushes from you, all over Steve’s face. “Oh, fuck!”

“That’s my girl.” He moves his hand away and sticks his tongue in, gathering up all your climax and swallowing it down, moaning at the taste he’d missed so much. When you’re squeaky clean, he stands above you, and you watch with hazy vision as he sucks his fingers into his mouth and groans in pleasure. “Always taste so good, princess.” You’re so fucked out already that you can’t even feel embarrassed. He wouldn’t want you to anyways.

You weakly lift your hands towards him and make grabby motions. He smiles and does as asked, leaning to hover over you and give you sweet kisses. You wrap your arms around his waist and tug him down, and he collapses on top of you in a huff. You hum contentedly and snuggle into him, making him chuckle fondly and lay on you like a weighted blanket.

“Missed you,” you mumble into his neck, “so much.”

“I missed you too. I’m sorry I said that stupid thing and got you all worried.”

“‘S okay. I know what you meant once you explained. You’ve always been almost a method actor.”

“Maybe, but full method acting is freaky and I’m good without.”

You giggle. “Me too.”

He shifts and you feel his cock on your leg, still hard and without relief. You subtly lift your thigh to rub it and he moans, dropping his head to your shoulder and biting lightly. “Aren’t I supposed to get that now?” You tease. “I gave you what you wanted.”

“And now you want in return?” His tone barely contains the smirk he’s definitely sporting. He lifts himself up to look at you and groans a little at your pleading pout.

“I’ll even wet it for you,” you add while batting your eyelashes. Truthfully, your mouth has been watering ever since he’d first mentioned it.

He kisses you deeply. “An enticing offer that I will take you up on next time, baby. I think I might die if I’m not inside you immediately.” You giggle again as he stands and shucks off his pants and boxers, the sound hitching when his large, red, throbbing cock slaps against his abdomen. He smirks at you unknowingly licking your lips when you spot the precum beading at the head. “Like what you see, angel?”

You nod, eyes still locked on his cock. “Gimme, please,” you whine.

“Anything for you, my love.” He climbs over you again and lines up. Your hips cant forward to urge him on, but his hands clamp down and pin them to the bed. “Gonna savor this,” he murmurs, rubbing his cock through your folds. Electricity bolts through you when it grazes your clit, teasing. His eyes are magnetized to where you’re about to be joined, awed at how beautiful you are for him.

Eventually, his cock notches into your entrance and you gasp lightly. That turns into a drawn-out moan as he takes his time sliding inside, one he matches as soon as he bottoms out. He’s so deep you think you can feel him in your stomach.

Then he’s gone, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in, slow but hard, and your back arches. “So responsive,” he coos, and does it again and again, until he’s moving at a steady pace and driving you crazy. Taking advantage of the leisurely tempo, he ducks his head down and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, making you grip the bed sheets with tight fists. He swirls his tongue around, biting gently every now and then to make you jolt against him.

Going so slow grows maddening. “Faster, please, baby. Need more of you.”

“Your wish is my command,” he vows. Soon, he’s moving so hard and fast that the sound of skin slapping fills the room, oddly erotic. You look at him with half-lidded eyes, unable to do anything but take it, be Steve’s little plaything. It feels so good you can barely stand it.

You’re admiring how your boyfriend looks in the soft moonlight, making his eyes shine in an otherworldly way, when he says reverently, “You’re so beautiful like this, sweetheart. Lookin’ like an angel sent just for me. Because you’re all mine, right?”

“Yes, Stevie, all yours,” you moan.

He growls at that, putting his hands on your thighs and pressing them to your chest, allowing him to go even deeper. You keen at the new angle, sound cutting off as he kisses you desperately, and you throw your arms around his neck. He pulls back, much too quickly in your opinion, but you forgive him because he does so to say, “And I’m all yours, baby. You’re the only one for me. Only you make me feel this good. You’re all I think about, all I wanna think about. There’ll never be anyone else, princess. I love you and only you.”

His words push you closer and closer to your release, even more intense than the first two. He knows, urging you on by snaking a hand between your bodies and rubbing quick circles on your clit. “That’s it, soak my cock. Wanna feel you again, honey.”

“Love you, love you, love you,” you say over and over as your orgasm comes upon you. You scream Steve’s name when you finally cum, climax like a cascade, nails dragging down his back like they just might draw blood.

“Yes, angel, I love you too, missed you so much, oh my god, you’re so tight, love you, love you.” He’s babbling, finally cumming too, spilling hot and heavy. When he pulls out, your combined liquid pools out of you, and he groans one last time at the sight. He scoops some up with a finger to taste, eyes closing in delight. He opens them to look at you mischievously. “Wanna try?”

It should sound gross but it’s not. You nod and he repeats his motion. You suck his finger, pleasantly surprised by the enjoyable flavor. But it’s the essence of you and Steve–why wouldn’t it be good?

You must’ve fallen asleep after that, because the next thing you know Steve is wiping you with a warm washcloth, being as gentle as possible. You hum as he pulls the covers over you, but whine when you hear him step away. “It’s okay, angel,” he says softly, “I’ll just be a minute.” You listen to the dresser drawer opening and closing, and then Steve padding out of the room. You doze until you hear him come back and close the door. At long last, he slides into bed and gathers you in his arms. You curl around him like moss on an old building, and he buries his face in your hair.

“Thank you,” you whisper, half-asleep.

“You don’t have to thank me, baby,” Steve replies. “It’s my job to show you how much you mean to me. I love you so much, you know that? It’s the easiest thing to do, loving you.”

“Mm, I love you too.”

“I’m yours for good, angel. And you’re the only one for me. Promise.”

;

“It’s gonna be bright out there, angel, but just keep holding onto me, okay? I’ll get you there in one piece. All you have to do is show off that pretty smile. Sound good?” You nod at your boyfriend, smiling shyly. Steve grins. “There she is. Now, kiss for good luck?” You give him a kiss and then he’s out of the limo. Less than a minute later, he’s ducking back in the open door and holding out a hand for you. You take a deep breath, grab it, and slide out into the flashing lights.

A wall of sound hits you, and you try not to cringe against Steve. So many voices layer over each other, you don’t know what anyone is saying. But you just remember what Steve said and think of him on the night he came home and a smile forms on your face at the memory.

Steve helps you walk carefully down the red carpet, stopping you here and there to pose for the cameras. He wraps an arm around your waist to keep you stable and so you can focus on looking natural. “Doing so good, baby,” he murmurs in your ear at one point, kissing your temple. You close your eyes when he does, hoping one of the photographers got a shot of it. You think you’d like to frame that.

Eventually you reach the end of the carpet, and Steve’s agent ushers you two into the building. It’s a whirlwind in here too, but more manageable, loud but controlled. Your boyfriend turns to you. “You okay?”

You sigh happily at the love and concern in his eyes. “I’m good,” you promise, and he smiles.

Someone shouts his name, and you both turn. None other than Nancy Wheeler is rushing towards you, a tall and lanky man being dragged behind. Steve automatically steps closer and holds your waist again, nodding back at his costar but only thinking about how you might feel. Your heart warms at his attention, and you meet Nancy with a genuine smile.

She stops and grabs your hands. “Oh my gosh, you must be Y/N! I’ve heard so much about you, Steve mentioned you every chance he got. I’m so excited to meet you!”

“I’m excited to meet you too,” you reply.

“This is Jonathan, my boyfriend.” She motions to the boy beside her, who smiles awkwardly and holds out a hand. You shake it, as does Steve.

“Heard a lot about you too, man,” he says to Jonathan, making you feel even better.

“Are you excited for the movie?” Nancy asks, just to you. She’s barely even looked at Steve.

You nod. “Steve says it’s one of his favorites that he’s made.”

“Mine too! It’s such a sweet story. It’ll have you bawling by the end. I hope you brought tissues.”

You peer up at Steve, who had not told you that you were in for a crying fest. He laughs. “Don’t worry, angel. I got some.” He pats his jacket pocket.

Nancy’s eyes are glittering when you look back at her. “We gotta find our seats, but let’s talk at the after party. I have to put a face to all the stories Steve’s told!”

You agree and watch as she and Jonathan walk away into the crowd. You turn to Steve and he draws you close. “Are you sure you don’t wanna just go home and skip this whole thing?” He whines quietly.

You smirk. He’s been asking a variation of the same question ever since you stepped out of the bathroom in this dress—which accentuates your chest and ass “magnificently,” as Steve put it. He’d even tried starting something in the limo, but all that had accomplished was leaving him high and dry after you’d made him keep his hands to himself.

“You wanted me to see the movie,” you counter now.

“Yeah, but we could stream it later. It’s not like I’ll win an Oscar for it or anything.”

You roll your eyes. “You might! It’s prime awards season, babe. And you’ve been getting a lot of acclaim for this role. And you know the academies love a tear-jerker.” He blushes at your argument. “Plus,” you whip out the doe eyes, “I wanna see you on the big screen.”

He sighs in fake annoyance, a fond smile giving it away. “I did say your wish is my command, didn’t I?”

“Yup.” You smile triumphantly.

Steve grins back before kissing you soundly. “I love you, angel.”

“Love you too, Stevie.”

He gives you one last peck, and then grabs your hand and leads you into the theater.

#happy new year!!!#steve harrington x reader #mine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington x you

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amakumos · 1 year

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CUPID’S CONFLICT — eight ; i see what’s happening

as the man behind cupid's corner, jungwon is responsible for getting majority of the couples at decelis together (namely, riki and his girlfriend.) but there's one person that always gets in the way of half of the couples that jungwon sets up together — you. you are the polar opposite of yang jungwon, affectionately called "evil cupid" by your friends, as you have the unfortunate ability to break any couple up within a couple of weeks just by taking a picture with them. it's not intentional, you tell jungwon. what's also not intentional, is when jungwon finds himself crushing on you.

“Have fun on your date,” Rei says to you, watching as you shove your books into a tote bag. “I’m going to work on a project.”

“Project, date, same thing. Take lots of cute pictures of Maeumi for me. ” Wonyoung says, and you roll your eyes. “We're actually going to be working. It's not a date.”

“Don’t get distracted, by his… face?” Wonyoung replies, and you give her a weird look. “What? You guys would be cute together.”

Yes, he’s good looking, and basically your exact type, but you don’t really know Jungwon well. Plus, you’re pretty sure he isn’t really fond of you.

You take the train to Jungwon's, and it's not too far away from Decelis. You don't know why he doesn't choose to stay at home instead of the dorms since he doesn't live too far. When you stand in front of the lift, waiting for those elevator doors to open, you suddenly find yourself feeling a little nervous.

You press the button to the 9th floor, watching as the doors close. It's just a project. You're not nervous. The doors open, and you step out of the lift. Jungwon says he lives in apartment 9B, and as you approach the door, you hear the sound of a dog barking.

You assume that's Maeumi.

Jungwon opens the door, wearing a plain white t-shirt and sweatpants. "Hey," he says, opening the door wider to let you in. You take your shoes off, leaving them near the entrance. "Maeumi gets really excited when he meets new people." Jungwon adds as he watches Maeumi jumping up on your leg to greet you.

"Ah," you say, smiling. "That's very cute."

"Come in," he says, and you walk into his apartment, Maeumi trailing behind you. It's very clean, and Jungwon's placed his laptops and books on his dining table. "You can just put your bag on that chair," he says, sitting down at the table.

You slide into the seat next to him, taking your own laptop out. "So... where are your parents?"

"They're working. They're a bit busy this week, so I've kinda got a lot of time for myself."

"Oh, I see." you say. It's a little awkward, with it just being you and Jungwon. In his apartment.

"So... should we start working on this?" he asks, and you nod. He opens his laptop, creating a new slideshow and sharing it with you. "We've just got to create a presentation about this poem... and analyse it. Then share it with the class. Super simple,"

"I think we can finish it in 20 minutes. I mean, we did do a lot of preparation in class - we kinda just have to type everything out now."

You find that you work well with Jungwon. He's easy to share your ideas with, and even when you find that you can't exactly find the right words to use to get your points across, he understands what you mean. The nervousness you felt before fades away, and you start to think that you were just overthinking everything, especially when it came to you thinking that Jungwon hated you.

The project's finished in less than 20 minutes, much to your surprise. "Do you wanna grab lunch?" Jungwon asks you, and you shrug. "Sure. Are we going to go outside?"

Jungwon walks towards the window, pushing the curtain aside. "Ah, it's raining. I'll just order takeout. Are you okay with fried chicken?"

You nod. "I'm not a picky eater. Order whatever you like."

You get up from your chair, making your way over to Maeumi. You sit down on the floor, away from the carpet (because you've seen Jungwon's tweets about Maeumi shitting on the carpet), and the dog comes up to you, and you give him a head pat.

You play with Maeumi for a bit, picking him up and settling him in your lap while Jungwon orders the food. "He likes you," Jungwon says, placing his phone on the table.

"Does he?" you ask, ruffling Maeumi's fur.

"Yeah, he does. Give me a second, I'm just going to get Maeumi some treats." he says, before disappearing into the kitchen. He returns with a container of dog treats, and he sits down beside you.

Jungwon takes one of the treats out, feeding it to Maeumi. "He's so cute." you say, and Jungwon smiles.

Jungwon's opinion of you has changed very quickly over the past few days. He supposes that it was a shitty thing to do, to hate you over the fact that you had broken up a lot of couples at the school unintentionally. He guesses that he takes his role as Cupid a little too seriously.

You're very nice. So nice to the point that Jungwon feels terrible for being mean to you on his private Twitter account.

Suddenly, Jungwon hears the door unlock. He furrows his eyebrows - his parents aren't supposed to be at home until 9pm. It's only 3pm, and he doesn't think he's expecting anyone to swing by.

The voice of Kim Sunoo rings out, and the boy stops in his tracks when he sees that you're in Jungwon's house. "Jungwon, Riki wanted to know if you're free- oh! I see what's happening."

"Hi, (Name)." Sunoo says, a smirk on his lips. "Hi, Sunoo. Nice to see you," you reply, still giving Maeumi head pats.

"What are you doing here?" Jungwon asks. "Riki sent me to see if you were free, since I know the password to unlock your door. But, I'll just tell him that you're not available." Sunoo says, wiggling his eyebrows at Jungwon.

Sunoo's going to tell everyone in their friend group. And now everyone will think that you two are a thing.

"Have fun on your date," Sunoo whispers to Jungwon, who elbows him. "It's not a date." Jungwon whispers back.

"Sure it isn't. Bye (Name)! See you tomorrow!" Sunoo says, waving at you. You bid farewell to him too, and before he leaves, Sunoo whispers one thing to Jungwon.

"Don't fall in love."

"I won't," Jungwon replies.

Jungwon doesn't know it yet, but he is very, very wrong.

eight －i see what's happening! previous ☆ next ♡ masterlist

author's note. first written chap of the series !! my entire body hurts cuz of badminton #lovemysport

CUPID'S CONFLICT! a jungwon smau. genre: smau, crack, fluff pairing: non-idol! jungwon x non-idol! reader warnings: swearing, ignore timestamps taglist is CLOSED!

#kflixnet #k labels #enhanet #enhypen smau #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #jungwon smau #jungwon imagines #jungwon fluff #jungwon au #jungwon scenarios #jungwon x reader #jungwon angst

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headphonegrl · 1 year

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There’s a folder in Jude’s phone dedicated to you. It's a day shy of your first anniversary when you find out about it, stumbling upon it when he asks you to look for a screenshot of the recipe he’s using to bake biscuits. The exact one your grandma sent him, one of your favorite foods of all time since you were learning to walk and speaking gibberish in the hopes of forming a sentence.

Its title is a plain red heart, sitting above the number three hundred and forty-eight. You stare at it for a moment to make sure it’s right, you swipe out of the app and click back onto it as if to make sure it won’t disappear suddenly. Though it’s still there, the number and symbol staring back at you. There’s a funny lurch in your stomach when you tap the screen with the pad of your thumb, clicking on a random photo when they all show up in neat little rows of three.

There’s one of an arcade machine. The big display screen a cartoony shade of blue with cheesy racing cars and checkered flag graphics, with two grainy photos in the middle. One of Jude sticking his tongue out, his eyes squeezed completely shut. The other of you smiling cutely with all your teeth showing, Jude’s hand appearing from off-screen to give you bunny ears with his fingers. It was your fourth official date and you both spent it collecting as many arcade tickets as possible, only to just end up with glittery bouncy balls and pencils when you traded them all in.

Another one is of you standing by the sink in his bathroom, your hair clipped away from your face. There’s foamy face wash all over your cheeks and on the tops of your fingers, you hold your hands out to display them to the camera. You had promised to spend the night at his place for the very first time, and getting ready for bed had already taken nearly an hour due to all the talking. Jude sat on the edge of the bath wearing one of your fuffy toweling headbands, watching you endearingly as he fiddled with the lid of your moisturizer

One sticks out like a sore thumb, a screenshot from your childhood Instagram account that makes your toes curl with cringe. A heavily filtered selfie of you pouting with a caption that’s a variation of unrelated emojis. After a night out drinking overpriced cocktails, you both ended up sitting in bed scrolling through embarrassing photos. Looking back it might have been the extra tequila shot, but Jude found it so funny he struggled to gasp for air. He set it as his home screen as a joke and forgot to change it back for almost a month.

Further down there’s one from when you both went on holiday. A photo of you sitting on a wooden dining chair, your elbow leaning against the table with your cheek squished against the palm of your hand. You’re wearing the strappy sundress you bought earlier that week in a little boutique owned by an enthusiastic Italian lady. At dinner the strap keeps falling off your shoulder, and when no one is looking Jude plants a kiss exactly where it should sit.

“Darl, have you found it?” Jude speaks up from the kitchen. Shortening the pet name ‘darling’ into just one syllable, as if the other one will ruin the flow of his sentence. Looking up you’re greeted by him standing next to the mixer, the flour down his front making the text on his shirt unintelligible.

“Yeah.” You click the arrow on the top left to take you back. Scrolling past some selfies and a bunch of pictures of the same sunset, until you find the recipe sitting next to a funny photo of his brother. When you get up to rest it against the shiny countertop so he can read it, your heart feels a little fuller. “Here you go.”

#cute idea #idk abt the result #football imagines #my writing #footballer x reader #footballer fluff #footballer x you #footballer imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham drabble #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fanfic

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lululandd · 1 year

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content;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader

word count: 1177

warning: fluff, reader is into plants

notes: inspired by an instagram reel that @/myscprin sent (this fic is also on ao3)

summary: it started out with a stupid potted plant.

Soap had drunkenly bought him one and would not stop whinging until he actually took it home. The man also had the audacity to ask him how the plant is doing, weeks after.

“Fine.” He lied. They were probably browning on his balcony, in a worse condition than he last saw them. It was funny; exciting even, to water the first couple days, having something easy to take care of, but then he saw signs of it not going to make it and subsequently avoided them entirely. Closed his blinds so he doesn’t have to see them die for good measure. The work call came immediately after, and he’s glad he doesn’t have to see it again for a couple months. He can just use work as an excuse next time Soap asks about the dead plant and be done with it.

But it wasn’t done with. Work took eight months, and gathering the courage to just step out to be greeted with a dirty balcony and a dead plant took two weeks extra. But it wasn’t dead. It was thriving. He might be remembering wrong—which is rare for him—but he could’ve sworn the pots were actual terracotta instead of stone painted to look like terracotta. Its leaves are supposed to be brown, or yellow, but they’re now different shades of red, some even resembling wine. Confused, he went back in and kept the blinds closed, joking to himself that maybe it just disliked seeing him, and was better off left alone.

Or so he thought.

The next day he came back to the balcony only to be greeted by a wet patch of floor, and droplets of water on the leaves. It didn’t rain at all yesterday, so either there's a leak that landed right where his plant sits, or someone watered his plants for him. His suspicions landed on the apartment above his neighbour’s, since they’re the only one with an abundance of plants on their balcony. Even though they shared fire escape stairs, and could easily come down to his portion of the balcony, he doubted they would walk down the stairs every single day just to water his plants. So he wanted to see how they did it. Perhaps just hose it from afar? Since they did horribly miss his pot today, from the evidence of excess water on the floor.

How mistaken he was.

It was a weekend, and as soon as he woke up and got his tea and digestives, he sat with his blinds barely open and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Until he saw your figure, half covered by the curtains, waltzing right to his plant and watered it as if it was your own. You were there for at most two minutes before walking back upstairs and out of his line of sight.

This has to stop.

Quietly, he took the plant off the balcony and into the apartment, setting it down on an unoccupied dining chair. The plant might seem normal on the balcony, but indoors it looked out of place. It was as if his whole apartment felt smaller and devoid of colour as he stared at it.

Ghost was cleaning a shelf the next day when he heard a loud gasp outside. His reflexes got the better of him and opened the door to see the girl on her tippy toes looking down as if searching for something, and then turned back to look at him. They both stared at eachother like a deer in headlights, although in their heads they’re the deer and the other is the headlights.

Ghost was a deer for not taking good care of his plant, hiding it, and opening his balcony door in record time, and the girl was also a deer because she got caught going to someone else’s balcony to water said plant.

“Sorry, I—“ They both started at the same time.

“Oh, no, I’m sor—“ They started again.

The girl raised her free hand, “I’ll go first. I got scared that your plant fell or something. Sorry if I startled you.” As she said her gaze fell onto the plant in question sitting (unhappily) on the chair.

He looked back at it, “Brought it in to brighten up the place.” He lied. He didn’t even like it. He didn’t like it being indoors, making his already measly living quarters feel even more barren. For some reason her face brightened.

“I have some plants that are easy to take care of, if you want more? I have some that doesn’t need sunlight that much so you can put it in th—“

“No.” What in bloody fuck was she thinking. Did she forget why she watered it in the first place? Is she daft? “Thanks. I go on work trips often.”

To his confusion her face brightened even more. “I can take care of them while you’re away, if you’d let me?”

Oh.

He had fallen right into her trap. Dead fucking centre. If he perceived her as an enemy he’d kill her there and then. But no part of his instincts or his sharpened mind saw her as one. It was his ego talking.

“Nah. You fancy him?” He pointed at the plant.

She shook her head, “I have no more space at mine.”

He went back and reached for it. “Tell you what. I’ll put this boy right back out here. And you can have half of my space for your shit. Sounds good?”

Unfortunately for Ghost, the girl’s wide grin and sparkly doe eyes got burned in his mind for good.

“You mean it?”

“Yeah.”

Work called him to Iceland not a week later and he spent the next few months barely seeing the sun. The country lacked sunlight, which was good for clandestine missions, but he could feel it took a toll on his mental health. Those artificial UV lights made his body feel better but his mind longed for the real deal. So that's why as soon as he got home he opened his curtains to its fullest to bask him and his apartment in some warmth. It took him about fifteen minutes to process what he was seeing. The girl really did take half his space. The space that made him rearrange his apartment layout completely so he could sit down on any chair and still have a view of said space. She had filled it to the best of her abilities while still making way for him to walk onto. Different plants with leaves of varying colours and sizes sat on colourful pots. He spent one morning just sitting there with his tea, trying to spot silly little frog statues half hidden underneath the growth.

It had been a while since he felt something other than dread when he got home, it was the first time in his shitty little apartment that he felt a smile creeping up his face, and it was the first time in what seemed to be forever that he felt.. content.

part 2

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing #it sucks when i love angst but can only write fluff

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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year

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Moves & Countermoves (Part 1)

Haymitch x Fem!Reader

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue

“Well,” Haymitch grunts, rising from his seat in the bar car, “that’ll do it.”

Y/N knows the drill. Busying herself with the game plan, preparing the devices for her tributes. Loaded with resources to aid in their training.

Haymitch leans down, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head before stumbling away toward their train car.

He won’t even see them, not until it’s absolutely necessary. Haymitch has no desire to make small talk; he doesn’t want to know them. Just makes it harder in the end.

His wife, on the other hand, is either a saint or criminally insane by Haymitch’s account. She insists on knowing them, allowing each to take a little piece of her off into the arena to die.

He used to spite her for it, for her inability to simply stop running herself into the ground trying to save kids who are already dead. He doesn’t anymore. That’s who she is and he learned to love her for it. Still, Haymitch doesn’t want to watch. He was always better at picking up pieces than keeping things in place.

“Y/N Abernathy!” A shrill voice scolds when the set of doors behind the youngest victor open without warning.

“Effie Trinket.” Y/N waves a hand in her direction.

“What are you doing? Where is Haymitch? The two of you are meant to be-”

“Look, you’re new at this. I get it, everything is exciting. Can’t wait to make these kids arena ready in just a few days.” Y/N grumbles, never looking up from her tablet. “But it doesn’t work like that. We’re stuck on this fucking train until tomorrow morning with no weapons to train them and no cameras to wave at. There’s no rush.”

“Language!” Effie gasps at her choice of words, coming to stand in front of Y/N with both hands on her hips. “The tributes are waiting.”

“How many people have you killed?” Y/N asks, turning her eyes up at Effie.

The woman simply balks at her, speechless.

“Have you ever held your intestines in your hands? Or fought your way to the top of an hourglass that was slowly filling with sand?”

Effie narrows her eyes into slits. She’d been warned that Haymitch might be hard to manage, but no one said a thing about her.

“It’s ok, not many people can say yes.”

Ms. Trinket stomps her foot like a petulant child.

“I don’t tell you how to do your job, stop telling me how to do mine.”

————————————————————————

When Y/N is good and ready she makes her way to the dining car, Katniss and Peeta are sat patiently there. The boy’s fingers picking anxiously at the satin blue arm rest of his chair. Y/N takes a deep breath. Here we go again.

The pair of tributes snap their heads in her direction, waiting expectantly.

I can’t save you. Only you can do that.

“I’m Y/N. Good to meet you. Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark.” The woman says, more cool and calculated than Katniss expected. She has a digital pad in hand, jotting down notes with her stylus. Giving one to each of them in turn.

“Oh, uh- thank you.” Peeta accepts his gratefully.

“Beginning at the main screen, let me know if you have any questions, there are diagrams of strategies for attack and defense-”

“Where’s Haymitch?” Katniss asks, tapping at her screen with inexperienced fingers.

“He may join us later if it suits him.”

Katniss visibly recoils. This is not the woman the Capitol shoves down their throats on television. Sweet and demure in nature, with a smile to sugar coat even the darkest of thoughts.

“Contingent upon your strengths and weaknesses, this is a playbook of every effective strategy that I’ve seen, heard of, or performed. With different arenas come different challenges, so you’ll need to do some adjusting to meet your specific goals.

If you are skilled in hand to hand combat, I suggest numbers eight through eleven. If you’re skilled in a long range combat, numbers one through five. If you’re skilled in both, I suggest a combination, otherwise known as numbers six and seven. If you’re skilled in neither, I suggest you do the best you can to prepare yourself. Number twelve is for my non fighters, my hiders, climbers and camouflagers. People tend to overlook that strategy all together, but not me. It buys time, if you’re lucky, it buys enough to wait out the masses.”

Peeta nods, hanging on her every word.

“Which one did you use?” Katniss wonders, trying to digest the harsh angles of the first diagram.

“Seven.”

Six and seven are combination. “I thought you won with a knife?” Katniss was only two at the time, but there is no shortage of recap. From the people who love Y/N and the ones who believe that the Capitol ate her soul.

“I took the last career out hand to hand, my partner covered the distance.” Y/N explains. “Axe to district one’s back, gave me a fighting chance. Allies are invaluable weapons if you pick the right ones.”

————————————————————————

Climbing into bed that night Y/N feels Haymitch stir, tossing a lazy arm around her as he nuzzles against her back.

“Well? What’d you think?” He asks, reeking of whiskey. “They gonna last a couple minutes? Hours?”

Y/N feels her jaw tick. “We owe these kids the same care and preparation as we gave the rest.”

“As you gave the rest.” Haymitch says pointedly. “I’m a shit mentor, you told me that.”

“You did this for a long time by yourself and I,” she breaks off, tapping anxiously at his fingers. “I commend you for that. But I can’t do it alone. I’ve tried, it doesn’t work.”

“That is not on you.” Haymitch says, under his breath. “The kids have been too young, too weak-”

She sighs, “if we don’t try, that is on us. Haymitch, what if they were our kids?”

“If we aren’t careful, it will be our kids.”

“Even if we play our parts; ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ like a couple of good little show animals, they could get reaped anyway.”

“We made them the most beloved children in Panem. Nobody will be lining up to watch them fight to the death.” Haymitch tries to brush it off. He can’t even think about shit like that. From the moment they were conceived, the odds were put in their favor.

“There’s never been a child born of two victors, people are curious.” Y/N feels him tense.

“Someone told you that?”

She nods, “Finnick’s heard it a couple times now.”

“Heard it where?” Haymitch demands.

Y/N lowers her voice, “Haymitch, you know where.”

From his patrons, the ones Snow forces on him. They pay with secrets.

Part 2

#haymitch fanfic #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch abernathy fanfic #hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #haymitch abernathy x y/n #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #effie trinket

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ambassadorarlert · 1 year

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HEAT WAVES... (Armin Arlert x afab!reader)

.04 BOARDWALK (main menu | spotify ) 18+ MDNI NSFW ↳ summary: ...armin comes out of his shell. ↳ warnings: explicit sexual content, swearing, implied depression, anxiety ↳ genre: hurt/comfort, comedy, ↳ word count: 11k (my bad)

No one really had an answer. It was as if Eren had vanished into thin air, like he erased himself from the face of the planet and it was just you eight who remembered his existence. All of his belongings stayed just where he left them. Eren’s suitcase was barely unpacked. A glass of water sat half full on his nightstand. There wasn’t a single thing that seemed odd or unusual.

Missing in action for a few hours turned into a few days. Which, eventually, turned into weeks. All of the Survey Corps plans to set up a base in Marley had to be put on hold, and it raised more questions about what to do next. Should the mission be considered a failure and go home to Paradise? Or, wait it out and continue as coordinated once Eren eventually returns?

There was also the looming danger of being busted by Marleyan officials as Eldian’s from Paradise, a special group of people in which the entire country agreed that they hated. Was staying on Marley a minute longer than necessary a risk worth taking?

You didn’t want to think about any of that now. All you wanted was some breakfast.

You quietly open the door to the dining hall, not surprised to see Hange and Levi sitting at the table. They stopped talking to each other as you entered and greeted them for the morning.

They seemed to be having a particularly serious discussion. Hange was sitting on the edge of their seat, their face painted with that determined look that you found inspirational and also frightening-- depending on the situation. Levi was sitting back in his chair, an arm rested around the supportive backrest.

“Make a cup of tea for me.” Levi said.

Anyone else would have taken his tone for rudeness, and his request as a direct order. However, you knew this was Levi’s way of being polite, as his articulation was softer and rounder around the edges. A change of speech he only reserved for you.

It was a recurring joke that you were Levi’s favorite. Levi spoke to you in different tones than he does to anyone else. For you he is always a pinch nicer. He usually said yes to any of your requests, agreed with most of your ideas, and no one could recall a time where Levi had to whack you upside the head for saying something stupid. On top of all that, you were the only one who was allowed to make Levi his tea. Eren made it taste bitter. Jean serves it too hot while Armin serves it too cold. Sasha adds too much sugar, and Connie makes too much of a mess for a single cup. Hange somehow makes it taste like dirt. You were the only one who could brew and sweeten it the exact way Levi liked.

“Yes, sir.” You complied.

It was routine now that you would make a cup for Levi before yourself whenever you happened to be awake at the same time. He hardly needed to ask at this point.

As you approached the table to prepare tea, you took notice of the heavy silence between the three of you. Levi definitely added an ominous element to whatever room he was in, but the tension was too thick. Perhaps you really had walked in on a heated conversation. Being the awkward interruption made you nervous. You kept your head down as you sorted through the teabags to find one Levi would enjoy.

“So, since it’s just the three of us. We’d like to ask you a few questions, Y/N.” Hange spoke up, clearing their throat as they did so. You paused.

“Okay.” You agreed, trying not to sound as anxious as you had suddenly become.

“How has Mikasa been holding up since Eren has been gone?” Hange questioned.

“And be honest.” Levi interjected.

If you were going to be completely honest, Mikasa had been having a difficult time. Just as anyone would imagine. For the first few days of Eren’s absence, she had been inconsolable. Mikasa spent most of those days confined in her hotel room, crying to a point where she would exhaust herself, fall asleep, wake up, repeat. Then, her despair took a turn and transformed into unwavering hope that Eren couldn’t be gone much longer, and that he would return. It was a last minute coping mechanism.

“She’s.. doing her best.” You answered, pouring hot water over the teabag in the cup.

You voted to keep it simple and true as you could without divulging too many details. Mikasa was heartbroken, but she did less crying every day. You figured that Mikasa wouldn’t appreciate you giving out too much personal information, especially to Levi.

Levi and Hange glanced at each other as you kept your back turned. They mutually and silently agreed to not push further about Mikasa. Still, there was another person they were concerned about.

“And Armin?”

The sudden mention of his name falling off of Levi’s lips casually and innocently sent goosebumps down your spine. You shivered as if a chill had brushed right through you. You even dropped the spoon you were using to stir sugar in Levi’s tea directly onto the floor. It fell with a muted clunk against the carpet.

Your mind began to race. As far as you and Armin could tell, no one suspected anything about either of you. You both kept a respectable distance from each other around the group but by default your interactions with each other increased. No one seemed to notice how your eyes lingered on each other from across the room. Sasha, who had been wholeheartedly invested in your infatuation with Armin from the beginning, didn’t even realize that he fixed you a cup of tea every morning since landing in Marley. Jean, who was Armin’s assigned partner for the mission and only slept a few doors down, paid no attention that Armin’s door would squeak open and shut at odd hours of the night from you slipping in and out. Mikasa, who was Armin’s very best friend, seemed oblivious as well. Then again, her mind was elsewhere these days.

There wasn’t much to be said about what Connie knew, because it was usually nothing.

If anyone was going to notice anything, it was Levi. And if Levi knew then Hange most definitely did as well. Levi was omniscient, all-seeing, all knowing, nothing got past him without him hearing about it. You were sure that you and Armin’s jig was up. You’d have to break down and tell Levi everything he wanted to know, as you couldn’t imagine lying to your captain and commander.

You bit your lip as you reached for a new spoon. You began to sweat under your arms and your stomach felt as if it would drop right out of your ass. As quickly as your anxiety had been sprung, a new idea came to mind.

Telling Levi the truth was your best option. However, you didn’t need to reveal all of it.

It was generally easier to tell if Armin was upset, afraid, happy, or sad. In the context of Eren, he was a tougher nut to crack than you suspected. When Eren first disappeared, Armin remained positive that Eren would return as he had no real connections or resources in Marley. He stayed up most nights as a watch guard, ready to welcome Eren back with open arms and a jillion questions. Coffee was his newfound hyperfixation. It gave him the energy he needed to stay up through the night. Apart from the stray glasses of water that you insisted he chug, coffee was all he drank.

When it was becoming apparent that Eren qualified as missing in action, Armin’s decline began. He crash-napped at strange times during the day. Whenever he was awake, his nose was buried in the journals he brought along with him from Paradis, flipping through pages and notes and personal diary entries he had taken on Eren, his memories from his father, and information on the Attack Titan. Armin hardly ate anyway, but he held no real appetite. Armin slept in later and later, often letting the small plates of food you brought him run cold.

You straighten your posture.

“Actually, Captain, I’m glad you asked.” You said.

Hange and Levi shared another look at each other as they also sat up to listen. Just as they predicted, Eren’s two dearest and longest friends would be struggling with him being gone. Everyone knew that the trio never really had a single day without each other. Anyway they could help, they absolutely would.

Levi’s tea was at the perfect temperature and just the right amount of sugar had been added. You walked across the room and lightly placed the saucer and cup in front of him. For a second, Levi watched the steam rise from the rim and eyed the deep brown liquid. You stepped back and stood at full ease.

“Armin hardly comes out of his room these days. I don’t think he eats, or sleeps, he’s too occupied overanalyzing and prophesying. We all know that Armin is more… perceptive than others. I-I think a day outside would do him some good. Only for a few hours just to get his mind off of things.” You submitted your idea, looking between Levi and Hange for any kind of reaction.

Instead of taking the cup by the handle, Levi hovered his hand across the entire rim and sipped through a gap in his fingers, louder than usual. He held his eyes on Hange, who actually had the final say. Hange’s stare was fixated on the table as you explained the situation. They nodded slowly as they listened.

Of course, there was more you wanted to say. But, just as you wanted to respect Mikasa’s emotional privacy, you wanted to do the same for Armin, and not lead on too much. Levi and Hange eyed each other down, quietly debating as if they could read each other’s minds. Your eyes darted between the two of them, eager to hear their thoughts. You felt like you were asking both of your parents for a favor.

“You think we’re going to let you two out and about unchaperoned, in enemy territory, after the shit you all pulled at the refugee camp?” Levi questioned, an eyebrow raised in suspicion. He didn’t look at you as he spoke.

Good point. Quickly, you came up with a counter argument to blame Eren for the sake of the conversation, but Hange intervened before you could propose it.

“Eren took full responsibility for that, and I said we’d just forget about it and move on. That was weeks ago at this point.” Hange removed their glasses to wipe a lens on the corner of their shirt.

“Armin and Y/N are responsible, and are the ones we would have to worry about the least if they were out by themselves.. We shouldn’t let Armin rot in his thoughts alone. Don’t you agree, Levi?” Hange hinted.

Levi took another large slurp out of his cup. With the loud sipping and little complaint as he drank, you figured you once again hit the nail on the head. Hopefully, that would add extra leverage to your proposal. Levi licked his lips and sat his cup in the saucer with an uncomfortable clink.

Levi’s silver-grey eyes weren’t cold, but still just as unnerving, as he finally made eye contact with you. You swallowed as he looked you directly into your soul, and a few yards beyond. He pointed a finger as he spoke.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Levi said. Now, that was an order.

Your mind had drawn to a blank. You had prepared yourself to defend your case. However, you were not expecting the conversation to go as simply as it did. Once the tide of relief had washed away, you thanked them generously and prepared to leave and make plans. It was better to accept a yes and leave, than to waste another second and give them room to change their minds.

“Hold on,” Levi called after you before you could fully make it out the door.

He dug around in his pocket, and simply chucked whatever he had towards you. You caught it with ease, opening your hand to see that he had thrown a singular Marleyan coin. A string had been tugged in your chest.

“Thank you, Captain.” You smiled greatly and genuinely, giving a respectful salute out of gratitude. Levi waved his hand, dismissing you. You turned on your heel and let the door fall closed behind you.

“Hmm.” Hange relaxed in their seat. Their lips pressed into a sarcastic frown. Levi glared.

“What?” He wanted to know.

“I didn’t hear you say you wanted reimbursement. But I always have to pay you back.” Hange commented.

Levi sucked his teeth and reached for his tea.

“I’ll just add it to your tab.”

A cloudy heaviness floated around in the dark and gloomy room. A few stray pieces of clothing laid across the floor. Dishes had piled on top of the bedside table as neatly as they could be stacked. A few mugs have been collected over the course of a few nights, dried and evaporated rings of coffee remained in the bottoms. The only light source in the room was the lamp in the corner that gave off a sickly yellow hue. It made Armin’s eyes and head ache, but he didn’t want to have the curtains open. Each rise and fall of the sun was just another day without Eren.

Armin took a gulp out of a mug that had been sitting near him as he rummaged through various journals and notebooks. His coffee that he had been cradling was brewed a few hours ago and had long been cold. Armin didn’t care about the stale taste it left in his mouth. He didn’t feel like going to get a fresh cup.

The only audible noise in Armin’s room was the annoying ticking of the clock on the wall. No one likes listening to the time pass by, and it was quite easy to tune out. However, all Armin wanted to do in this particular moment was concentrate on his own research. With each tick tick tick, Armin’s head pounded. His stomach also began to bubble as he had not eaten anything since yesterday afternoon. Food and water would make the hunger and oncoming migraine go away, but he was too engrossed in his writings to get up and do anything else.

Armin was hyper focused on trying to find a clue as to why Eren would disappear. He had been awake since the night before editing, studying, rewriting and scribbling over notes he had taken months and months ago. Something, somewhere, had to be an answer. He could taste it. Armin’s mind buzzed with thoughts and theories. Each assumption was laced over the other, intertwining in his brain all at once. They rattled against his skull.

A soft knock on the door was all that was needed to annoy Armin to the fullest extent, breaking his concentration on trying to keep his ideas sorted. Reality shifted around him now that he had been distracted. The hangry smog wiped from his eyes as he blinked himself to the present. Armin balled his fists, refraining from smacking them down on the table out of frustration

Armin turned in his seat and stood up. His head swam for a second as the blood pooled back into his legs and feet. He realized he had been sitting in that chair for quite a while. He spotted the shadow of two feet under the crack of the door and, suddenly, a piece of paper slid across the floor. The feet disappeared quickly as they appeared, muted footsteps trotted down the hall and away.

It was a note. Armin quickly reached to pick it up and unfolded it.

“Armin, would you please meet me at the pier by 12pm?”

There in black ink, written in your handwriting, was your name signing off. Armin stared at it for a moment to admire how the letters formed the sound of you. He also noticed that the i in his name was dotted with a small heart. Armin’s own heart fluttered. No one has ever written his name that way.

Armin turned the note over in his hand, not expecting anything to be written anywhere else. There was very little context. The pier? He didn’t quite understand. Whatever it is you needed to meet about had to be important if it was outside of the hotel. Armin checked the time. He had thirty minutes.

With haste, he assembled an outfit. Brown slacks, a white button up shirt, and a beige vest to match. Armin splashed some cold water on his face and scrubbed his teeth until his gums bled. All the while his thoughts ran a mile a minute. Armin could feel the adrenaline flow under his skin at the anticipation of seeing you for the first time today. He did a brief breath check before grabbing a cap to conceal his insubordinate hair. Usually it would lay flat but of course it wouldn’t do what Armin wanted right now.

He was out the door with fifteen minutes left to spare. As Armin was just leaving, Jean was walking into his own room.

“Oh, ‘sup Armin?” Jean threw his hand up in acknowledgement. Armin paused, a breath of air being startled out of his lungs.

“Hi, Jean. Bye, Jean!” Armin greeted him breathlessly.

Perhaps if he appeared to be in a rush, Jean wouldn’t question where he was going without him. Armin didn’t need Jean holding him up and asking questions.

“Wait, hang on a second! Where are you going?” Jean stammered. His face was screwed up with confusion.

Suddenly, Armin's hands were beginning to sweat. Anxiety began to pool in his chest. Armin needed to navigate his way out of the hotel and to the pier. The pier was close, a block or two away. Armin could still be on time if he kept his talk with Jean short.

“I’m going to the pier for a while. To look for Eren.” Armin said plainly as it was the entire truth. He put his hands in his pockets and swallowed.

“I can go with you.” Jean offered. He had his hand on the door handle, ready to leave if Armin said yes.

Armin upheld his promise to keep your relationship under the table. He figured one of you would tell Jean eventually. Armin did find it quite funny that Jean was the one who gave him the small boost he needed at the camp that night, but was so far gone that he couldn’t even remember his drunken words of encouragement. Perhaps at some point Armin would thank him for his unsolicited help. With time, of course. For now, Armin was enjoying having you all to himself.

There was an awkward pause as he waited for Armin’s answer.

“No, I-I can go alone.” Armin politely denied.

“Alright,” Jean hunched his shoulders, slightly disappointed. He was about to go back into his room before he abruptly turned back on his heel.

“Y’know Connie and I stay up pretty late most of the time. You can come kick it with us if you want… If you get too lonely.” Jean gently suggested.

This was the first time he and Armin had spoken to each other in days. Armin was Jean’s buddy, and he missed hanging out with him and Connie together. Every other night or so, Jean would tip down the hall to see what Armin was up to. Most of the time his lights were off and everything was quiet. Jean figured Armin would be a little lonesome. Leave it to a jerk like Eren to abandon his best friends.

Armin lips turned to the side in a shy, reserved smile.

“Thanks Jean.”

Jean nodded his head again. He decided to let Armin go his separate way. He couldn’t help but wonder if letting Armin out alone was a good idea or not, given the circumstances. He shook the thought away, having more faith in Armin coming back than Eren at this point. Jean held out his fist for Armin to pound. With no hesitation, Armin approached Jean and met his fist with his.

On that note, Jean went back into his room. Armin rounded the corner like a bat out of hell, and made a break for the exit.

The day was surprisingly warm and sunny. It was the middle of the week, and not many people seemed to be out today. It was nowhere near as crowded, as it was when you all first came to Marley. The pier was bright, full of life, loud, and busy. Now, it was pretty vacant and boring regardless of the lovely weather. There were a few people wandering around. Their shoes clunked loudly on the wood of the pier, echoing loudly into the open sea air. Even though the temperature was slightly high, the wind blowing off of the ocean just a few steps away provided a refreshing breeze. You could even taste the salt.

You checked your small wrist watch for the time again. The day was growing dangerously close to noon. Armin would have been here by now, but he was nowhere in sight. You had picked a perfect spot right in front of the pier's welcoming entrance. In big iron letters erected over its archway read Libero Pier Amusement. You sat patiently on a bench. Sitting in a public space and looking around anxiously was a perfect way to draw attention to yourself, so you kept calm and collected.

The anticipation was driving you crazy. You didn’t bring anything to distract yourself with while you waited, so you resorted to picking at whatever hangnail you could find. You bit at one, wondering what could possibly be taking Armin so long? What if something had happened to him? It was unlike Armin to be tardy for anything. What if he just didn’t want to come? You glanced at your watch again.

“Chewing on your nails again?”

You jumped. As if you manifested him out of thin air, he was there. You didn’t even hear him coming. You looked up at him, relieved that he was finally here and in one piece. But your heart fell at the sight of him in the daylight. It was obvious that he had not been getting enough sleep, if any at all. The area around and under Armin’s eyes were darker than the rest of his face. His outfit, however, was pretty fly. Marleyan fashion suited him well.

“Yeah.” You admitted timidly.

“I got your note, obviously.” Armin stated as he helped himself to sit next to you, thigh to thigh.

He leaned into your space, his hands resting politely in his lap. You had his full attention, eyes wide and dotting across your face. His eyes, the water in the distance, and the sky were all a miracle shade of blue.

“What is this about?”

“I wanted to go on a date.” You introduced your idea, motioning to the nautical environment around you. You gave Armin a flirtatious side eye.

“A date?” Armin sputtered incredulously. You hummed in response.

A strange crack accidentally escaped Armin’s throat. A date, of course! How stupid of him to not realize that sooner. Would you be upset if he didn’t realize this is what you had planned? Had he known, he would have gone out of his way to bring you something nice.

You pressed your lips together, hiding a smile and hoping that Armin would be okay with this. If not, you both could simply go back to HQ and spend time together there. Although, that wouldn’t be as fun.

“Unless you’re uncomfortable! We can go back--” You started to bargain. Armin interrupted you promptly.

“No, please! I-I definitely want to be here with you.” Armin pleaded. His reassurance made your stomach twist.

“I must ask though, how did you get past Hange and Levi?” Armin wanted to know.

He was more than positive that you did not waltz right up to them and say you wanted to go on a date with Armin. And, no matter what way you put it, there was absolutely no way they could have ever agreed to let you venture out alone without Mikasa.

You playfully shrugged. You hardly broke a sweat trying to reason with your superiors, but Armin didn’t need to know that. You did, however, want Armin to know that Levi had given you money. Armin’s jaw dropped. He almost didn’t believe it until you pulled out the copper coin allowance out of your pocket, chuckling maniacally. Armin scoffed.

“I guess that little boy didn’t take all of it.” You lightly teased.

“He’s never given me money.” Armin fake pouted.

He thought back to all of the times that he had gone into town to get things for Levi, and it was always out of his own pocket. He genuinely did not mind at all. That, and he also dared not to ask otherwise.

You laughed. His mood already seemed to be changing. You grabbed Armin’s hand and stood up on your feet. He followed.

“So. What should we do first?” You asked.

Armin held his shoulder out for you to take. You wrapped your arms around his bicep and gave it a very firm hug. A warmth had gone through him, starting from the top of his head and sliding its way down into his toes. He could feel his cheeks flush just by you touching him. It sent his heart thumping and mind racing. This would be your first outing together as a couple. Maybe if Armin remained collected and chivalrous, while staying sharp and alert of his surroundings, he might not fuck anything up.

Like he did last time.

It did not matter where the starting point was, as long as Armin got to spend time with you. After a few weeks of beginning to get used to sneaking around in dark hallways at strange and ungodly hours of the night, it was refreshing to see you in a rather normal romantic environment. A beautiful day, you on his arm, out and about in a place neither of you had explored before. Armin’s stomach gurgled. He suggested food first.

Although this was your plan, Armin seemed to lead the way. He specifically wanted ice cream again and he looked for the trolly. Unfortunately, he didn’t spot the gentleman anywhere so he settled for something else. So, you both made way towards the only open food stand. There was a bit of a line, but you waited your turn. You stood behind a man with a baby resting on his shoulder.

The first thing you noticed besides the huge bald head, were their big green eyes. Their cheeks were fat and round, perfect for pinching. Just as you appeared, the infant kept their eye on you. You smiled and gave a little wave, and made a few funny faces. Your new friend, with their little fist in their mouth, smiled and giggled in return. A bit of drool had rolled down their bottom lip.

“Aw,” Armin chortled at you.

“I like babies.” You mentioned to him matter of factly. The line moved forward a few feet.

The parent must have caught a whisper of your comment. He barely turned to the side and glared at you through the corner of his sight. You could tell he gave you a quick up and down examination. The man's concentration circled on your left arm, which remained at your side since Armin was intertwined on your right. Then, he gave an awkward and unfriendly fold of his lips, and promptly turned back around. It was always disappointing when a cute baby had rude parents.

The menu for street food in Marley was insane. You and Armin collectively have never had so many choices for food in your lives, and it was quite obvious to the vendor by the way you both gawked at the menu. You recognized a few items, such as Mikasa’s popcorn and Sasha’s funnel cake. But you weren’t too sure what a hot dog was exactly…

You and Armin both opted for a pretzel, to try something new.

Once you had gotten your twisted snack and paid, you pointed back to the pier. From where you were standing, you scouted out a perfect spot to sit, eat, and talk. One section of the pier was lined with wooden benches. It was built to stand a few yards beyond the shore line and farther into the ocean. You both sat closer to the end, wanting to be as close to the water as possible, and ate in a comfortable silence.

Seagulls called overhead. The sound of the water sloshing against the wood of the pier echoed under your feet. You snuck a glance at Armin as he munched. His hair blew against the warm wind. He was amazing to look at.

“I’ve missed seeing you during the day.” You confided in a soft voice.

“Yeah…” Armin dragged out. “My sleep schedule has been kind of messed up…”

It was obvious that Armin desperately needed sleep. Even though the bags under his eyes were plain as day, he was still good looking. In your personal biased opinion, Armin was always an attractive guy. The lack of sleep gave him a tragically beautiful aesthetic.

“I stay up most nights just… thinking.” Armin lowly stated.

Armin focused on the half eaten pretzel in his hand. There was something nipping at the back of his mind, something that you could see but not put a name to. You took a bite out of your food to fill some of the silence.

“About what?” You asked.

He paused for a moment. Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry anymore.

Armin thought everything was going well so far. He didn’t want to ruin the mood by being sad and talking about his feelings. Although, it was only a matter of time before you broke the ice and brought up Eren. He noticed how you tiptoed around it, how your exterior around him had softened. Since Levi didn’t bother to do bed checks anymore, only because the main reason for reinstating them for the time being had gone, you pushed the envelope on how late you would stay in Armin’s room. Sometimes, you’d fall asleep for a while. He guessed that you just wanted to keep him company.

“You can tell me anything.” You reassured him. You lightly knocked your knee against his to get his attention.

You were completely right. You were an excellent listener, and quite easy to talk to. Having deeper and more meaningful conversations with you was simpler than he thought. After understanding that you liked to talk as much as he did, Armin realized that he had psyched himself out for years. Being too intimidated and shy to initiate anything beyond banter as comrades, and vague compliments.

He often found himself spewing embarrassing facts and stories. You knew that Armin does not like to sleep with socks on because he hates the way his toes feel when they’re confined together, and he likes when it rains because everything feels cleaner. If he could confide in you that he enjoys a romance novel every now and then, he could be honest about his latest dilemma.

“I know, I just…” He inhaled sharply.

The pout on your lips was involuntary. Armin’s shoulders fell. He still kept his eyes on his lap. His bottom lip was taken in between his teeth, chewing on the supple skin.

“I thought at first that maybe being in Marley triggered some kind of memory, that Eren got lost or confused and would find his way back. I read my notes a thousand and one times. He hardly ever spoke about his fathers memories, aside from killing the Reiss family, so I couldn’t even piece together an idea of where in Marley he could have gone”

“And then I remembered the ‘see you later.’ It made me think he changed his mind at some point, but why? Maybe it was something I had done, something I didn’t understand… That’s kind of where I’m at now, I guess…”

You left your pretzel unattended as you listened. A sinking sensation fell in your abdomen. It was without question that Armin missed Eren and, honestly, so did you. He wasn’t your closest friend, but you enjoyed kicking him under the table when he joined in on Connie and Jean’s teasing. You constantly remind Eren to mind his business whenever he commented about Mikasa’s hair getting too long, and that she can keep it anyway she wants. Being the last person to see Eren seemed like a cruel joke. You felt as if anyone would see him for the final time, it should have been Armin.

You slid closer to him, hips touching together. Gently, you place your hand on his shoulder. Your eyes were locked on to him. He couldn’t avoid eye contact if he tried.

“I don’t think it had anything to do with you.” You hushed.

Armin offered a weak smile. You had spoken so tenderly, he almost believed that was true. All of a sudden, his mouth had gone dry. He felt as if you had him by the throat. A ringing sound in his ears as he zoned in on your lips. They always turned to a smile, no matter the occasion.

“Stand up. Face me. ” You demanded.

Without question, Armin did as you said. You plucked his pretzel from his hand and sat it down where he was sitting, and took both of his hands in yours. They were warm and a little sweaty. You gave them a squeeze. You instructed him to take a deep breath in and a deep breath out, following along with him.

“Let’s still try to have fun here while we can. Okay?”

Armin sighed. He could not deny to himself that the sunshine and fresh air had restored a piece of his mind. He was never going to stop wondering about Eren, thinking of the smallest technical detail, until he showed up again. For now, perhaps he could let his guard down for a moment…

“Okay.” Armin effortlessly agreed.

From that point on, he managed to put all of his Eren thoughts to the back of his mind, and enjoy your company. It had actually been about two or three days since you both had spent time together. He realized he hadn’t seen anyone for a while, which must have been why Jean was so surprised. Armin missed hearing you laugh and reaching to touch him anyway you could as you did so, how you could make a conversation about anything, and you definitely had gotten prettier somehow.

You both took one long, slow stroll around the pier. Mainly just talking, bouncing off of each other's ideas and random thoughts. You noticed a few things about him as you walked and talked. Armin spoke fluently with his hands. In casual conversation, he waved and moved them around. When he was being bashful, he rubbed them together. Armin also put his hands in his pockets sometimes. You hadn’t figured out what that meant yet. He apparently had a lot on his chest.

It was about to be your second turn around when you noticed a few people walking along the shoreline and under the pier. Immediately, you wanted to go there.

You and Armin rolled your pants legs up to the shin, took off your socks and shoes, and walked through the water under the pier. You held your footwear in one hand, while holding hands with the other. They swung in between while you casually strolled.

It was apparent that Armin was in a better mood. He skipped through the water, splashing himself and you as he kicked his feet around. He let his mind and his mouth run a mile a minute. Armin spoke on seemingly every thought that had came to his brain. You couldn’t help but to smile and laugh as he did. One day out and away from everything was just what he needed.

“Look at this,” Your eyes glanced at one of the pier legs.

You both stopped and approached to read and admire the handwriting that was etched into the wood. They were messages, notes, love declarations and promises. It was romantic to see how many couples had been in this very spot before you and Armin. He awed at some of the sentimental carvings. You had an idea.

You reached into your back pocket, pulling out a small knife you kept for last resort defense. You flipped it open and pointed the blade into the wood.

“What are you doing!” Armin exclaimed.

“Writing our names.” You stated, quirking an eyebrow. You thought it was obvious.

“You can’t do that, that’s vandalism!” Armin insisted.

He placed two hands on your shoulder, peering over as you were spelling your own name.

“Vandalism, really? Look how many people have been here before us!” You chortled as you moved on to sketch his name underneath yours.

Armin wasn’t the type to willingly bend the rules, which is what made it so fun to break them around him.

“Just because other people did it, doesn’t mean it’s right!” Armin hollered over the sound of the water moving and crashing. A subtle salty mist dusted the air as the wind blew from the ocean.

Armin’s face had turned a bashful red. He anxiously looked around. If you were both caught by Marleyan authorities and discovered to be from Paradis, it would be game over for the both of you as well as everyone else.

“Ta-da!” You cheered. You slid your knife back into your pocket and stepped back to admire your handiwork.

There, permanently drawn into Liberio’s pier were your names together, enclosed with a heart. Carving curves was more difficult than you thought it would be but the shape came out all the same. Armin noticed that you dotted the i in his name with a heart as well. He reached out to run his finger over the fresh carving.

“Nice little touch.” He complimented. The serious line of Armin’s lips twitched into a smile.

A quick gust of ocean breeze flew past, misting the sides of your bodies as you stood face to face. He had realized many things about you at once. Armin liked the way the wind had blown your hair back from your face, and the way your lips were drawn into a cheeky smile. He suddenly couldn’t feel his feet. The feeling of the cold water around his knees faded into the background as you had become the center of his attention.

Being in your presence was always a surreal experience. Even more so now that Armin got to have you all to himself. The era of Armin yearning from a distance was, for the most part, over. He no longer had the underlying anxiety of wondering if you would ever like him the same way. Even though you’ve said it, it was clearer now that you truly cared for him. He could feel it in the way you held his hand, pointing out the finer details of the world around you. You literally carved your names in wood, and it would be there forever for others to know that you both stood in this very same spot. It felt official, as if a contract had been signed. Armin’s heart pumped doubletime.

A switch had been flipped. A layer of Armin’s adoration towards you had been stripped, and a new fresh wound lay underneath. It seemed to run deeper into Armin’s chest than he anticipated.

“I owe you an apology.” Armin blurted out. You turned to look at him.

“Why?” You questioned.

He inhaled. The words weren’t easy to come off his tongue. Armin wanted to shrug and say he didn’t know, to spare you the bore of him talking. But, you said he could tell you anything…

“I… don’t think I’ve given you the attention you deserve.” He confessed, pulling on his fingers.

You helped yourself to wrap your arms around his middle, giving him the most genuine and warm hug he had ever gotten. The water that you stood in was cold, but your touch had him just about sizzling.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” You stated.

Armin gulped at your comment. You resting on him eased his spirit, as if he was forgiven for a sin. He laid his cheek on the top of your head, snuggling into you for the moment. His eyes began to throb, tears threatening to pick behind his eyes. He wasn’t sure what he was about to cry for. Armin’s psyche felt a hue brighter. Suddenly, nothing else seemed to matter to him than you did in this current moment. Armin did not want to taint this memory with tears, so he quickly blinked them back.

You played under the pier for a few hours, as long as it took for mid-afternoon to turn into late evening. You kept reading other names drawn onto the pier leg, trying to find things to pick up and maybe keep as souvenirs, but you didn’t find much. Armin brought it upon himself to start throwing water. You splashed him back. This was maybe the happiest you had ever seen him be.

A weird creepy feeling hit you in the back of the neck. Suddenly, something was off. The hairs on your arm stood up. You got the sensation that you were being watched, stalked from behind. You stopped running around the pier legs, playing into Armin’s silly tag game. You took a sly peak from the corner of your eye before turning completely around.

There was indeed someone behind you, a few feet away. It was unclear what they were doing exactly. They stood still as if you couldn’t see them at all.

“What’s wrong? Are you tired?” Armin asked.

You had become distracted by his voice. In the split second you turned to look at Armin and back at the person, they had already gone. They were there plain as day, Armin must not have seen them before they took off.

“Nothing is wrong.” You said.

Armin approached you slowly, careful not to splash around as much anymore. He wrapped an arm around your back, enclosing you around him in a light hug. He looked in the direction you were staring into, not understanding what had distracted you all of a sudden.

“Let’s go back.” He offered.

—

Armin didn’t let go of your hand once. He held it from the pier all the way back to HQ. His grip tightened when you made it inside and snuck through the halls like two lovestruck shadows. The hallways were clear and quiet. There wasn’t a single person in sight.

“Are you tired?” You hushed.

“No, are you?” Armin asked.

“No…” You trailed off.

Since the hallway was so empty, now seemed to be a perfect time to slip in either of your rooms. You typically snuck off to Armin’s room, which was farther down the hall and had loud door hinges. Your room was closer, only around the corner. “Do you want to come to my room?” You suggested.

A bell had gone off in Armin’s head. He’s never been in your room before, neither here nor on Paradise. He couldn’t begin to imagine what your personal bedroom looked like, although he wondered. Armin nodded his head in agreement. The lump in his throat had formed in seconds, and hindered his speech. The dry mouth didn’t help either.

You promptly grabbed your room key out of your bag, so you wouldn’t have to fumble at the door. You and Armin promptly rounded the corner. You stuck your key in the lock and with just your luck, the key did not turn. You moaned in frustration.

“Sorry. This sticks sometimes.” You explained.

You quietly jiggled the key in the hole, hoping to dislodge the mechanism inside. Of course it would happen now that you’re in a rush. Armin stood close behind you. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck, which only further distracted you. It sent goosebumps down your spine.

He couldn’t help his eyes but to wonder up and down your backside. Armin began to anticipate what possibly could happen once he got inside your room. Anyway he put it in his mind seemed perverted, which isn’t the energy he wanted to give off. He couldn’t wait to hold you close to him and unwind under your sheets. Armin’s head began to pound at the thought of things escalating further.

Armin fumbled with his hands anxiously as you struggled to unlock the door. You shook the handle again, more aggressively this time. Mikasa’s room was catty-cornered from yours, and would definitely see what was going on if she caught wind of suspicious noises in the hall. Armin wasn’t sure how Mikasa felt about you and Armin being together. It never had a chance to be brought up.

And, sometimes, he really disliked being on the same brainwave as Mikasa. They were always very close. At one point in their childhood, Mikasa tested Armin extensively to see if they could read each other's minds. It felt like just as Armin began to worry about being caught by her, Armin happened to notice her door was cracked enough to peek out of. The tip of her red scarf lazily hung through the crack, an eye just barely visible.

Armin quickly glanced between you still trying to break into your room, and Mikasa, who was staring directly into his soul.

“What?” Armin mouthed to her.

She looked Armin up and down once. Her eye squinted. She was definitely judging him. Quietly, she closed her door back.

You managed to successfully turn the key, after spewing swears. The door swung open and you went inside. Armin followed and closed the door behind him.

Armin didn’t allow a second to pass before he had his lips on yours. He held them there for a moment. You were quite surprised, standing in a short jolt of shock. When the familiarity that was Armin as you knew him sunk in, you kissed him back. Both of your lips laced in between each other. He laid his hands on your hips. His fingers lightly dug into your skin. You placed your arms around his shoulders, giving him support as he leaned in most of his body's presence into you.

Your room was still dark. You hadn’t even turned the lights on yet.

Armin took a step forward, causing you to take a step back. Walking while kissing made you miss a few steps. The back of your legs collided with your mattress and you fell backwards, dragging Armin down along with you. He exclaimed when his feet were suddenly taken out from under him, and quickly braced himself so he didn’t completely squish you.

You chuckled rather awkwardly as you were slightly embarrassed for some reason. Your heart thumped in your chest, even your ear drums were feeling the beat. Of course you and Armin were often this close to each other. It was obvious that physical touch was his main method of affection. Both of you were usually staying up extremely late, embracing one another, talking and getting to know each other better. Armin especially liked to fiddle and toy with your hands and fingers, and leave kisses anywhere he was allowed.

Armin giggled as well. You smiled up at him, eyes glowing brightly. Armin lowered his face to yours. He lightly rubbed the tip of his button nose against yours, and then helped himself to another kiss. You gently added your tongue to the equation. Armin melted instantly. Comfortable moans slipped through the both of you. Time seemed to no longer exist. Armin felt like he had been kissing you for ages, but still was not getting enough. His blood started to work harder to flush through his veins.

He wanted more. Armin itched to feel your skin on his, soft and delicate. He remembered how good you felt inside. Not that he ever stopped thinking about it, and how being inside of you felt so right. He never stopped thinking about you. The way you held him, moaned his name and mewed for more, squirming under his touch. With his eyes closed, he could almost taste you again.

Armin broke himself away to collect air.

“Do you want to..? Y’know…” Armin struggled to find his words. He spoke them softly into your jawline as he walked his lips there to leave kisses.

Armin resisted the urge to suck on a perfect spot where his lips grazed your neck, just below your ear. If he left any marks, someone would definitely put the pieces together and know that it was him. Armin most definitely wanted to leave his love bites and bruises on you. His secondary thoughts spun as they thought of all the other places he could freely bite and suck on.

Asking before proceeding was always the right thing to do, but Armin didn’t know why he was blushing harder or how it was possible. He could feel a bashful heat rise in his face.

You knew what he was asking. You wanted to excuse yourself so you could hide your face in a pillow and scream into the down feathers to hide how hot and bothered you had suddenly become. This would be the first time you and Armin would have sex sober.

How would it be different?

The blue in his eyes poured into you inquisitively. They changed from a light cyan to a deep, amorous phthalo. Perhaps it was the trick of the light. His eyelids appeared heavy, no longer staying wide with wonder. He focused on you as if you were a target he was aiming for. Armin’s cheeks were strawberry red, as well as the tip of his nose and ears. He held a small piece of his bottom lip in between his teeth as he patiently waited for an answer.

You wouldn’t ever turn Armin down.

“Yeah, I want to.” You confirmed.

There was zero time to react. Armin sighed in relief and reattached his lips to yours. He was still on top. To make himself more comfortable, Armin put one leg on each side of your hips to straddle you. You could feel how hard he had gotten, making a shiver go from the bottom of your neck and straight down. Your hands went to entangle themselves in his hair that was so soft, it felt as if you were touching nothing. Your nails accidentally scraped the skin of his scalp as you did so. A miniscule whine left Armin’s lungs as he helped himself to kiss at the pulse of your neck.

“I promise I won’t cum before you this time.” Armin stated. The both of you chuckled, smiling into each other.

Both of you began to strip each other of your top layers. Armin’s shirt had been removed, as well as yours and your bra. You took into account how toned he actually was. He was definitely on the leaner side, shoulders and biceps defined with muscle. His abdomen was divided into faint sections of four. Armin wasn’t necessarily gung-ho about training and being physically fit, but it was clear that whatever work he was putting in was paying off.

Bare from the chest down, Armin moved from kissing the sensitive spots on your neck to your collarbone. Then, he moved to give attention to each one of your breasts. He kissed one as he held the other, giving your nipples each an equal amount of pinches and gentle sucking. Armin made his way down your sternum, down your stomach, and met a dead end at your waistline. You still had your pants on.

“Can I taste you again?” He wanted to know. His fingers had already hooked into your belt loops.

You nodded your head in agreement, not even having to think about it. Armin’s lungs filled with excitement. He bit his lip to keep himself from smiling too much while he unbuttoned your pants and took them off for you. He began to tremble slightly from the anticipation of pleasuring you with something he knew you liked, something he was supposedly good at.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch Armin make himself comfortable between your thighs. He was on his stomach with his feet hanging off the side of the bed. Just for a moment, Armin paused to look back up at you. He wanted to see if there was any hesitation behind your eyes. If there was, that would be okay. But he was practically praying that there wasn’t. He gently wrapped his arms around your tights.

Armin took the kind smile you laid on your lips to be a go ahead, reading your mind perfectly. He helped himself down to give your clit two clear kisses, and began to lick ever so gently. The last thing you saw was the top of Armin’s blonde hair, his face tucked away. You closed your eyes and laid back to let Armin do his thing.

Armin’s hands dug into the meat of your thighs and his arms had tightened into a gentle hug once you began to wiggle and whimper under his tongue. He changed from giving your clit smooth licks, to licking through your pussy. He lapped at everything you had to offer like a pup to water on a hot day. Armin removed one hand to dip a single finger into you, leaving nothing untouched.

“So good.” He whispered.

Using his tongue and fingers, Armin created a rhythm that he could keep up with. He managed to work his way up to two fingers inside of you, teasing at the spot inside that had his name written all over it. Armin focused his tongue back to your clit, sucking and licking them interchangeably.

You were on cloud nine. This time around was better than the first. It would technically be Armin’s second time going down on anyone, but he performed like he knew what he was doing. You didn’t quite understand it, but if he was doing it this well then did it actually matter? You kept your noises to a minimum out of courtesy. A hand had made root in Armin’s hair, tugging at his locks. Armin’s one free hand reached for yours.

Enthralled in the pleasure he was giving, you had your eyes closed shut. Armin kept his wide open, unable to look at anything else. His vision tunneled from his job between your legs, to the sight of you squirming and huffing under his touch. Even before that fateful night in the tent, he had fantasized about pleasuring you in any way he could in any way you liked. Besides knowing what was outside of the walls, all Armin ever wanted was you.

A cord in your abdomen began to tighten and tighten. You knew you were coming close to an orgasm, but you didn’t want to just yet. You let Armin finger until you couldn’t take anymore. You tapped his shoulder.

“Stop, I-I don’t want to come yet.” You puffed.

Armin halted without comment. The corner of his mouth drew upwards in a shy smile. His eyes were swimming with lust, pupils blown out and dark. He used the back of his hand to quickly wipe his lips before glossing them back up your body. Armin kissed you. You could taste the faint tinge of yourself on his face and on his tongue.

A brief make out distracted Armin long enough for you to slip your hand in between your bodies and start messing with the button and zipper of his pants, which he had kept on. Armin gasped when your chilly hand found it’s way inside and around his cock. His mouth fell open with shaky sighs and moans as you began to work your hand up and down his shaft.

Armin was hard as stone. He was of decent thickness and length. Your core fluttered at the memory of how he filled and stretched you out so wonderfully. His cock flexed and twitched in your hand. You had only worked your wrist a few times up and a few times down, Armin was already panting and sweating.

“I wanna be inside you,” he huffed in your ear. You smiled into his shoulder. He almost sounded as if he was begging.

You released your grip to give Armin space so he could shimmy out of his pants. Once they were tossed to the side and he had settled comfortably on top of you, Armin gave you one deep kiss. His breath hitched inside his throat as he sunk himself inside of you. His whine grasped your attention. Your eyes flipped open to check on him. Your vision was met with the top of Armin’s blonde hair. His face looked down to where you both were connected.

“Are you okay?” You question.

Armin nodded. With his eyes closed, he took in a giant gulp of oxygen as he lowered himself onto his forearms. He was cautious not to put all of his weight onto you. Armin buried his face in the spot between your shoulder and neck. He spoke low, his voice sizzling in your ear.

“Forgot how tight you were.” He quietly confessed.

A little laugh escaped your lungs as he laid on top of you, chest to chest, as he pushed himself deeper. Your body recalled the way Armin filled you up. The stretch of him felt nice, a perfect fit and balance of length and size as if he had been molded just for you. Armin stayed still for a moment after making himself comfortable. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingertips pressing into his skin.

He moved his head so his nose touched yours. He wanted to be as close to you as he possibly could. Being literally inside of you almost wasn’t enough. You being sheathed around him was as close as he could ever get, so warm and so snug. Armin kept his composure, as he tried not to climax upon impact. He worked his hips slowly against you, impossible to restrain his breaths of satisfaction.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

With the compliment rolling off his tongue, Armin met his lips to yours. You embraced him tightly, holding him against you as you felt like you were floating. He took your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, his moans spilling into your mouth. They were low and breathless, just loud enough for only you to hear. His thrust increased, still slow and loving, but more emphasis was added as he pushed back up side of you.

As he did so, Armin realized that your bed was slightly unsteady. It rocked as he did. And somewhere in the screws of the frame was a rather annoying squeaking sound. It might have just been his ears playing tricks, but he swore it got louder as he kept going.

“Your bed is very noisy.” Armin commented, chuckling and slowing down his pace to cease the squeaking. You swallowed.

“No one will hear, I promise.” You said.

Armin had to catch his breath over what you were saying. He inhaled deeply again, getting a good whiff of your hair. Armin let his hips have a break, staying still at his last thrust upward. You felt the tip of his dick touching the particular spot you liked. Armin put his forehead to yours and looked you straight in the eye.

“Are you sure?” He asked. Armin looked deep into you, scanning for any amount of uncertainty.

A shiver went through your spine. Armin stared at you with an erotic gloss coating his eyes. It must be a signature of his. However, there was an icy focus to his irises. You saw an idea fly into his mind. His tone had changed, as did the rest of his aura. Everything had gone a shade darker, Armin being the only one taking up your entire vision. The world seemed to not exist outside of him being on top of you.

“Yes.” You cautiously replied. Whatever he was about to challenge you with, you accepted it.

Armin believed you. If there was no chance anyone would hear, then he didn’t see a point in trying to keep quiet. There was more privacy in a hotel room than there was behind a tapestry.

He leaned in for another kiss. Armin’s lips fell onto yours, haphazardly kissing you with no real pattern. Your tongues moved around each other recklessly. Armin pulled his hips all the way back, and snapped forward with little mercy. He repeated the same motion again, and again, and again. Your eyes clamped shut, seeing strange sparks of colors and shapes.

“Does this feel good? Hmm?” Armin panted in your ear, desperation entangled in his question. His breath was warm and rumbled as low as his voice could go. You nodded your head.

“K-Keep going. Don’t stop.” You confirmed, swallowing your encouraging words as Armin continued.

It was all Armin really needed to hear. He snaked both of his hands down your arms and to your hands, locking his fingers in between yours. Without a single que, your hands flopped to the top of your head, being pinned down by a weight on your palms. Armin melodically sighed. Lewd moans were exchanged in between each other as Armin began to fuck you threefold.

“I won’t stop, baby. I-I… I can’t stop.” Armin huffed pathetically.

Right now, his main focus was how well he fit buried deep inside of you. Armin swore he never had a stronger sense of belonging than here in this moment. He could feel the tip of his cock prodding at your soft walls. The way you squeezed around him had Armin crumbling around you. You smelled nice, as per usual. Armin could still smell traces of the ocean salt in your hair and on your skin, which was soft and supple as it rubbed up against him. Armin’s hands gripped yours tighter.

The sound of bodies hitting together could almost drown out the bothersome squeaking of your bed frame. You hardly paid attention to it. You were too consumed in the ecstasy Armin was putting down. You drank in every word he spoke. His trimmed hair below his beltline made perfect friction on your clit as Armin bore down hard when he thrusted into you. You were so full of him, anymore might be too much. You were already sensitive from his tongue lapping at you moments before. This was just enough to send you over the edge.

Armin freed your hands from above your head. Blood started to circulate back into your wrists. He then placed both of his hands on each side of your face, cradling you softly. Both of your eyes flipped open at the same time, directly looking at each other. Armin sheepishly smiled. It was impossible to look anywhere else. He held your face exactly where he wanted, maintaining eye contact as you fell closer and closer to coming undone. You held onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his warm skin.

You could feel your stomach tighten and the muscles in your core swell. You whispered how you were close, so close, so so close while Armin kept his fast pace. He let his hips go as they naturally could, not really having a specific rhythm.

“I’m gonna come,” You smaller voice was swept in the wave of Armin’s moans. He put his forehead to yours.

“I won’t until you do…” Armin exhaled.

Just a few more pumps into you, and Armin had you splintering from reality. A wash of relief finally crashed down. You throbbed around him. You knew he could feel you coming to orgasm. Armin’s hips wobble for one single second, a rather delirious laugh cracked from his throat. He could feel you drowning in your orgasm. You clenched around him, sucking and pulling under the waves with you.

Armin removed himself posthaste. Your head was still spinning and your consciousness was jaded. You sat up again on your elbows in time to watch Armin relieve himself right onto your stomach. Some white ropes had jumped all the way to your chest. His eyes were squeezed shut and his jaw hung open while he worked his wrist around his dick until he was satisfied.

Then, he flopped next to you on his back, his shoulder slightly over yours. You laid together in a thick fog of post-sex silence, catching your breaths and letting your brains reset. Your first coherent thought that came to mind was to clean Armin’s mess from your skin. Second, perhaps to bring Armin a glass of water. His face was beaten with red splotches as if he had run laps around the world. There was a thin shine of sweat to his forehead. You twisted the knob on your bedside lamp, and got up to do so.

“Where are you going?” Armin asked. Like a frog to a fly, his reflexes were quick. Before you could get too far, he lightly grabbed your hand.

“I’m going to clean up, and then bring you some water.” You stated with a smile, giving his hand a little squeeze.

Armin’s heart pinged. He smiled back at you, only because he was still too loopy to form a proper sentence. He watched you sashay away to your private bathroom, admiring the view of your naked backside. Once you had disappeared, Armin fell back onto your mattress. A puff of your smell wafted around him like an amorous security blanket. He inhaled deeply. If he snuggled into your blankets enough, perhaps your smell would rub on him too.

Armin nestled under your blanket and made himself comfortable. While he did so, he realized that there was still a significant amount of space left, even if you were laying down next to him. In Armin’s hotel bed, there was barely enough room to fit the both of you but you still managed to make it work.

“You know, your bed is a lot bigger than mine.” He commented.

You snorted from your spot in the bathroom. You had cleaned yourself off and thrown on a shirt you had. Then, you filled up a glass of water in the sink, took a few sips for yourself, and filled it back up again.

“Yeah, it’s bigger than my bed back home too. Actually, this entire room is about three times the size of my actual bedroom. I don’t even have a…”

You stopped talking at the sight of Armin completely passed out in your bed. He was literally awake and talking two seconds ago. His face was still flushed with pink, not as red anymore, and his breathing was still heavy. Armin was curled up on his side.

As quietly and as carefully as possible, you crawled up next to him and turned the light back out. Your vision adjusted to the darkness. You swore you could feel his heartbeat bang through the sheets. Holding onto that sound, you fell asleep not long after he did. -- thank you. reblogs and feedback are appreciated! arlertwitch © 2023. all rights reserved. do not translate or repost any works by @ambassadorarlert on any other platforms. violators will be prosecuted in accordance within the law.

#bye this took so long #armin imagine #armin arlert #armin arlert x reader #armin x y/n #armin x fem reader #armin x you #armin x reader #armin x afab reader #armin fic #armin smut #armin one shot #armin oneshot #attack on titan #heat waves #my writing

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icallhimjoey · 1 year

Text

To Have And To Scold

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It's just that... you don't really get along all that well, do you? At least, that's what you think.

CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers (very vague, im sorry, but you'll see), language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader

Author’s note: I know this trope is overdone, but, I wanted to do it a little... idk, different, I suppose. I've never written Joe like this either, so we'll see how this is going to go. This is part one (of five, you know me) and I hope you enjoy!

Wordcount: 2.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue

Oh no.

Joe was going to royally fuck everything up. There was no question about it. You were one hundred per cent absolutely convinced that Joe was going to do a bad job. So, so bad. The flat out worst, actually.

Joe hadn’t the faintest idea of where to begin, of how to go about it, of what it all entailed.

It made you feel a little superior, which was nice. This felt like a competition you were going to win, even though you understood none of this was meant to be competitive. In fact, it would actually be considered to be bad taste and maybe a little tacky to even pretend like it was a fight for you to win, but you couldn’t help it.

“Are you sure, Poppy... I don’t want to, like, but... are you sure? Joe?”

Poppy laughed, said, “He’ll do fine,” and Mark followed up by slapping a firm palm to his shoulder, saying, “He’ll figure it out, just like you will,”

“Oh no need to worry about me, I got this,” and you couldn’t help but look at Joe, sharp and focussed. Almost challenging, in a way, but you meant it jokingly. Hoped that maybe Joe would soften a little because he never really seemed to let his guard down. Not around you, anyway.

But Joe just shrugged, kept his face entirely neutral, and your jokes fell flat which immediately made everyone feel awkwardly tense.

It wasn’t a huge secret that you and Joe didn’t really get along all that great, but Jesus, could this man be any stiffer in this moment of joy? This evening of good news and important questions and celebrations? The inner peacekeeper within you couldn’t stand it. You just wanted everyone to get along and be on the same page, but the distance Joe somehow seemed to really force in between you kind of ruined all of that every single time that you’d all hang out together.

When you’d be in larger companies, it’d be easy. You could stay at opposite ends of the room and sort of ignore each other. You’d say hi, you’d be cordial and polite, but you just... weren’t each other’s people. Which made no sense. Mark was your best friend and his fiancé Poppy had naturally become such a good friend of yours too, so why was her best friend this... big old awkward weirdo?

What a stupid way to end the evening, and one that started so blissfully pleasant. When you’d walked into Mark and Poppy’s place around dinner time, you could’ve never predicted the outcome of it all. Though, in hindsight, you didn’t know why you hadn’t expected it, because it made total sense. It really did. Mark and Poppy were going to tell their families about this, and you knew they wouldn’t ask any questions because, this obviously was inevitably going to be the way it was going to go.

“Won’t Poppy be joining us?” you let your coat slide from your shoulders before you hung it over the back of a dining chair as you looked around the place. The table was set for two, not three.

“Pop’s taken Joe out for a meal,” Mark said from the kitchen, and you felt a little guilty at the little marble of relief that reared its little head up. You loved Poppy, honestly you did. She was the perfect girl for Mark, they were the perfect couple. Two peas in a pod. Fucking gorgeous and so, so sweet... but you were too alike in all the wrong ways. Both unbelievably stubborn and potentially hot-headed in the wrong moments, so sometimes you’d butt heads with each other. You held strong opinions and there would be times where you’d find yourselves at the exact opposite ends of a spectrum, willing to die in the battle of trying to convince the other that you had it at the right end.

There had been many nights where you would practically be screaming over the kitchen table about something so fantastically meaningless with Mark in between you, silently eating his meal, not even really paying attention to what either of you were going on about.

Mark sort of loved it. Loved you. But really loved Poppy. Said he found the version of you that wanted to sleep with him which he claimed was all he’d ever wanted. That always made you cringe; made you tell him to fuck off and stop pretending that you weren’t practically siblings at this point.

Having dinner with just Mark at their place wasn’t what you’d expected when Mark had invited you ‘round, but it was so welcome.

Whenever it was you and Mark by yourselves, you’d start the evening like the adults you were, would complain about work, talk about all sorts of civilized things, have a glass or sensible slightly more expensive wine, and ask how each other’s parents were doing.

But by the end of the night, you’d feel like you were 17 at a house party where the one 18-year-old brought a bunch of shitty piss-coloured liquor, room temp cider in plastic 2 litre bottles and blue WKD that would leave everyone’s mouth stained. There’d be an urge to fucking trash the place like the place didn’t actually belong to either one of you, and you’d rummage through kitchen cabinets to make stupid meals at midnight after whatever vegan bullshit Mark cooked up for dinner that hadn’t filled you properly. Suddenly, Mark would forget he hadn’t eaten meat in years and go for a kebab with you.

You loved those nights.

Poppy hated those nights, because that was the Mark she didn’t know or understand. She’d find you both drunk of your tits, flinging Wii remotes dangerously close to expensive furniture pieces (where the fuck did you even find a Wii, Mark?!) grunting like you were the Williams sisters playing Wembley.

Whenever Poppy would try to tell Mark off for sort of letting go for a hot second, Mark would throw it right back in her face and go, “Pop, go have your fancy martinis with Joe – go eat a million oysters with him, us peasants here will be fine with our grey meats and questionable white sauce,” and you’d go, “Ew, shut up,” and apologise to Poppy through a mouthful of cheap fast food, and Mark would be giggling like a little school girl.

Poppy didn’t like that version of Mark, but that was the Mark that you loved and even though you knew this evening was just meant to be a quick catch-up on a work-night, you hoped you’d get to see at least a little of your Mark.

"She's taken him to Bob Bob Ricard to ask him an important question," Mark said as he set down filled plates full of beautiful colourful vegetables that honestly smelled amazing.

"I thought you guys were already engaged? You know, to each other?" you joked and made Mark snort.

"It's got to do with that though,"

"Oh no, is this, are you going to become a throuple? God," you slumped your shoulders. "I should've totally seen this coming," and before you could carry on Mark punched you in the arm with far too much force.

"No, you dick, she's asking him to be her maid of honour... sort of, but like, man of honour, I guess,"

"Oh my God," you pouted because honestly, that was kind of adorable. "Will he be, like, her little pageboy?"

You envisioned Joe in tails walking behind Poppy down the isle, holding the train of her dress or whatever pageboys actually did at weddings.

"Little more sophisticated than that, I think," Mark said before raising his full wine glass, prompting you to raise yours too.

"And you're here because I have a question for you too,"

Your eyes grew as you bit your lips slowly into your mouth when you realised where this was going.

"Oh... oh fuck, Mark, wait, this is a big deal," you put your glass down and jokingly fanned your face with your hands.

"Yes. Now, shut the fuck up and let me actually ask it,"

"No, what about your brother?" you interjected.

"My brother's a lazy sod who is not to be trusted,"

"He's going to murder me,"

"He won't," Mark grew more and more annoyed as you stalled him.

"He absolutely will,"

"Would you just..." Mark sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. "Let me please just fucking ask the question, all right? Jesus,"

You shuffled in your seat and sat up, batted your eyelashes and pursed your lips into a smile because this really was a big moment.

"Will you," Mark started, and then paused for a second before he finished, "be my best man - woman... person?"

"Oh my God. Yes."

You cheersed and just, couldn't stop cackling for a moment. What a bizarre moment in your friendship, it was all kinds of fantastic and lovely and so weird. You loved it.

You questioned what it even really meant to be someone's best man, and over dinner you both googled all the things that best men usually did. For the groom, but also, for the whole wedding. You were to give a speech, would look after the wedding rings, would have to make sure all the groomsmen - and obviously the groom himself - were all dressed and ready in time for the actual ceremony and, last but not least... the stag do.

You were so up for the job.

Deep diving into this project was the perfect distraction from the mundane boring structured routine your life had fallen into.

Halfway through dinner Mark received a text from Poppy, saying that Joe had said yes. She sent a picture of Joe with a cute pursed smile and crinkly eyes, holding up a beautiful blush pink card that read the question, "Will you be my Honour Attendant?" in one hand, and a flute of bubbly champagne in the other.

"Oh," you frowned at your friend. "Why didn't I get a fancy card? Or a fancy dinner?"

Mark put his phone down and and shrugged, just said, "That's not our style," and dismissed you completely.

It was the beginning of what started with you dramatically exclaiming, "Do I not deserve a little luxury?" and ended with you doing tequila shots by the sink in the kitchen.

Yea, Mark was right. This was more your style.

It was just after 10 when the front door opened and Poppy walked in, closely followed by Joe.

A small moment of heys and hellos, followed, and then welcome-home kisses from Mark and Poppy, and slightly awkward eye-contact between you and Joe.

Joe looked sort of stupidly well put together. All polished. He looked wildly overdressed next to you, and it made you feel like a slob. And you knew you were older, not by much, but you were definitely older than Joe was, which really should mean something, but Joe was taller, and definitely richer, and... all of it made you feel like a child.

"You're gonna be Mark's maid of honour?" Poppy squealed, all excited, practically bouncing on her feet after she'd hugged you.

"Nope," you smiled widely, "You're looking at Mark's best man,"

Poppy grinned and shot eyes towards Joe.

"See? I told you. You kind of have to go by Maid of Honour," and Joe laughed before scrunching up his nose in defeated, going, "Yea, well..." and you saw Joe look at his best friend and just turn so incredibly soft for her. Like she was the only good thing in his life, like he truly, really truly, loved her with all his might.

It was almost disgustingly sweet, and you wondered if there was ever going to be a line Joe could cross with Mark.

You could easily cross the line with Poppy. You would never forget the look in her eye when you'd fallen asleep on Mark and he'd just hugged you for a little bit. It was the hard way to learn that Poppy was a normal person with normal boundaries and you totally understood. Of course. You wouldn't want anyone just falling asleep on your boyfriend - not that you had one - either.

But when it came to Mark, he was just very.... whatever, about Joe.

You were so sure that, if Poppy were to fall asleep in Joe's arms, and Joe would cuddle her for a second, Mark would just be like, "Are you having a good nap, babe?"

Sometimes Joe would invite Poppy to go to insane award shows over seas and Mark wouldn't even care that they'd share a hotel room.

Mark was made of trust. It was a little wild, you thought. Especially when, look! Look at those eyes! Look at what Joe's eyes were doing! He was literally turning into a puddle in front of everyone as he looked at his best friend.

"Fine, I guess," Joe comically rolled his eyes at his new title. Maid of Honour Joe Quinn, who hadn't yet taken his coat off which was weird because you were all stood around the kitchen island and he was still in his coat. What a way to keep the yea-I-don't-want-to-be-here vibes alive. Felt real great, this.

The defeated acceptance of Joe to whatever was happening made you jokingly ask Poppy if she was sure having Joe as her maid of honour was the best idea.

The joke had fallen flat, but Poppy erased it immediately by clapping her hands together right in front of her face, all erratic and excited, her grin quite literally splitting her whole face open.

"Oh my God, it's gonna be so fun," Poppy predicted as she shook tensed fists in celebration and you couldn't help but smile at her.

"It's brilliant actually, you won't need to worry about the stag do at all, I'm sorry, but Mark, I won't be taking you to a strip club,"

Joe scoffed loudly, which... rubbed you a little wrong. Mark however, was about to argue you on it.

"I will, however" you quickly added as you laid a hand on Mark's shoulder, "get you so unbelievably wankered, you won't even fucking remember if we went to one in the first place," and that got him laughing loudly, head thrown back, showing off all his molars.

"Oh no, you're going to be bad at this," Mark then winced and made you gasp.

"No I won't be!"

"Maybe," Poppy started, then looked at Joe, "you could get together and help each other out?"

And Joe's eyes shot to you, and you saw every fiber in his being hesitate and think of a way to polite tell you no, that's all right actually.

"Listen," you started, and hoped to keep the atmosphere light and jokey, like it had been, even though neither you or Joe had joked or laughed together at all. You never did.

"I don't need Joe to keep me from losing the wedding rings," you helped Joe out. "I think we'll do just fine on our own – you wouldn't have asked us if you thought we were going to be shit at our jobs,"

Ever the mediator, you.

"Oh fuck," Mark squeezed his eyes shut, and tipped his head back a little.

"You just jinxed it!" Poppy said with huge eyes, but a secret smile playing underneath.

"What?"

"You're going to lose the wedding rings," Joe said.

"No I won't–"

"She's going to lose the wedding rings," Mark said to Poppy.

"If you fucking lose our wedding rings," Poppy spoke through her teeth with a threatening finger pointed at you, but couldn't keep her giggles in.

"Stop it, I'm not! I'm not going to lose your wedding rings!"

You wouldn't. Because you were going to beat Joe at this. You were going to do a better job, have more fun doing it and, you just decided, look better doing it too. And Joe was really fucking good looking, so that was really saying something.

And you wouldn't lose the wedding rings.

You wouldn't.

---

The Taglisted:

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @thelostmoonofpooosh @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl

(taglist currently full, sorry)

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #rpf #icallhimjoey #To Have And To Scold #part 1

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honeypiehotchner · 2 years

Text

Recompense (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

My suitemate made me write this /hj

Also talk about returning to Hotch fics with something completely out of left field 🤪🤪

Warnings: 18+ only pleaseeee y’all know the drill, slight sub!Hotch/dom!reader, light bondage, grinding, angst, MAYBE dubcon if you absolutely squint

WC: 2.1k

Hotch had been gone for weeks, which isn’t unusual, but still takes its toll. To combat it, you and Hotch have been planning a dinner for when he gets back.

“Should we go out or stay in?”

“Stay in,” Aaron said, exhaustion laced through his words. “I’m so tired of eating out.”

“I know you are, babe,” you murmured. As much as Hotch loves his junk food, he hates eating out so often. He misses your home cooked meals, homemade lunches. He misses running every morning, coming back to your sleepy eyes as you fix coffee for the both of you. “We’ll stay in. I’ll cook.”

“No, no, I’ll cook, you’ve been cooking a lot.”

“I actually haven’t,” you admitted sheepishly. “Cooking for one is hard and I’ve been too lazy anyway.”

“Honey…” He knows when you say ‘lazy,’ you really mean you’ve been missing him and it’s been getting to you. “I’ll be home soon.”

“I know you will.”

Every night he called, and every night a new facet of the date was planned. The menu, the table setting, the music.

If this hadn’t been the fourth case in a row that the BAU was called on, this feeling of missing him wouldn’t be as bad. But he barely had six hours of sleep before he was called out on the second one, and he didn’t even get to come home before the third. With the fourth one, he was home for a blissful twelve hours, but he was exhausted and slept for eight.

Needless to say, it’s been a while since the two of you have really seen one another.

The day that Hotch texts you that he’s coming home can’t come fast enough.

You haul yourself out of bed immediately, flipping lights on and throwing clothes over your body to get ready for the day. There’s a lot to be done, and you can’t wait to get started.

You have all day because it’s a long flight and they haven’t actually left yet, but still. There’s no time to waste.

+++

Hotch doesn’t know how time got so far away from him.

He texted with you when the jet landed, but you weren’t quite ready for him yet, so he went to the office with the rest of the team. His plan was to do paperwork for a few hours, then check back in with you.

Well, he worked for more than a few hours. And forgot to check in.

By the time he looks up, it’s well past the time when he was supposed to text you. It’s dark outside, for Christ’s sake.

He immediately calls you instead, but you send him straight to voicemail. He forgets all about the work he was doing and grabs his coat and keys.

He makes it home in less than half the normal time, but you’re not there. You’ve left a note on the counter, telling him you’ve gone for a drive to get a milkshake, and you don’t know what time you’ll feel like coming back.

He calls you again. Voicemail again.

This time, he leaves one for you. Telling you to come back -- begging, more like. His only hope is that it works, and that you’ll be walking through that door tonight.

+++

The sight before you makes your mouth water. And you hate it because you’re supposed to be angry, but you can’t be when your partner is sitting in front of you with his hands tied. Literally.

He took one of the chairs from the dining table and placed it in the middle of the living room. He’s out of his tie and has it tightened around his wrists, palms facing each other, fingers curled into fists.

“How did you even do that?” is the first question out of your mouth.

He chuckles. “You think I’d do something to you that I haven’t tried on myself?”

“Oh,” you squeak, but really, you’re thinking, that’s hot. “Right.”

You set your things down and lock the door behind you. You’re not sure exactly what to say. If you weren’t mad at him, you’d be on top of him right now. You’d be all over him. But you’re resisting, and you’re keeping your feet planted firmly here, by the front door.

“I’m sorry,” he says from his place in the living room.

“Is this your apology?” you deadpan, gesturing to his self-made predicament.

“Part of it,” he admits. “Do you want me to get up?”

You’re not sure what happened exactly to flip the switch, but something did.

You shake your head, lifting it to meet his eyes. “No. I’ll tell you when I want you to do something.”

He hears the shift too and he nods. “Yes ma’am.”

You like the sound of that.

With a heavy sigh, you cave.

Slowly, you strip your jacket from your shoulders. “Why weren’t you home on time?”

“I-I got caught up in paperwork--”

“We’ve talked about that, Aaron.”

“I know,” he replies, shameful.

“What should you have done?” you prompt him, hanging your jacket on the hook by the door. You spin around and cross your arms over your chest, waiting.

“I should’ve set an alarm,” he says. “Or three. To check in and keep myself aware of the time.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “Why didn’t you?”

“I forgot.”

You click your tongue. “Not a good enough answer.”

“I know,” he says quietly, hanging his head.

His head remains hung in shame as you walk over toward him, toeing off your shoes by the couch. Aaron registers the noise, but doesn’t lift his head until you tell him to.

“Look at me,” you murmur, standing in front of him, but not touching him. His hands are mere centimeters from your legs where they rest on his knees. You see him tighten his fists and you know he’s fighting the urge to reach out and touch you. “Lift your arms.”

Aaron does as he’s told, albeit confused. Until you sit down on his lap.

You face him, your breath caressing his lips. You reach up and guide his arms back down, looped around your neck.

“I would’ve had you tie them behind your back,” you comment, “but since you’re already like this, we’ll make do.”

He nods, looking into your eyes intently. It’s been so long since he’s kissed you. It’s torture for the both of you to have your faces this close, but not touching. It’s hurting you just as much as it is him, but you are determined to take your time.

You can feel him hardening beneath you, much quicker than you expected, but still it doesn’t surprise you. It’s been a while since the two of you have had sex, too. Not over the phone, at least.

You roll your hips, earning a low groan from the back of his throat. You smirk.

“I’m not sure what I want to do,” you muse, letting your fingers wander to the buttons on his shirt. You begin undoing them, one by one, while you speak. “I could take something that I’ve wanted for weeks. I could refuse to let you cum while I do it. Or,” you finish the last button and snake your cold hands over his warm, toned chest. “Or I could let you cum, on one condition.”

“What is it?” he asks quickly, already breathing hard. Between the way you’re sitting, straddling him, your scent, and your hands, he’s ready to burst. “I’ll do it.”

“You don’t even know what it is,” you chuckle. “It could be something you hate. Or not necessarily hate, but something you prefer not to do.”

At that moment, Aaron knows what you mean. And he doesn’t like it. But he also doesn’t like the alternative.

“Okay,” he says.

You grin. “Someone’s desperate.”

“You have no idea,” he replies.

“Believe me,” you snap. “I do.”

He frowns. “I’m sorry--”

“Be quiet,” you tell him, removing your hands from his chest, to instead work on removing your pants. “Lift your arms.”

He does, and you step back, stripping yourself of your pants and panties, kicking them away. He watches them wistfully, and you have to snap your fingers to bring his attention back to you.

You take your shirt off as well, loving the way his eyes darken when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. And knowing that he can’t touch you.

You straddle him once more, noticing his bulge has gotten considerably larger.

If there’s one thing Aaron hates, it’s cumming in his pants. Especially when he could be touching your skin.

It makes a mess, sure, but the mess is always the least of his worries. He has them dry cleaned regardless. But it’s the pain. The agony. Being confined when you’re right there, stripped naked for him -- for yourself, really, because you’re angry with him right now. None of this is for him. This is all for you.

You guide his arms back around your neck, wanting to feel them there as you begin rocking your hips. You feel his muscles flex, the physical sign of his internal strife.

You’re sensitive on most days, but it’s especially bad when you haven’t felt him in a while. Just the feel of his dress pants against your core sends sparks through your entire body. Not to mention when you clit brushes against his belt.

You can’t stand it anymore, so you kiss him, hot and heavy, moaning into his mouth. He stretches his arms straight out, desperate for some relief. You pull him toward you by the back of his neck, your nails scraping his scalp.

His tongue easily finds yours and takes control. You let him, at least in this aspect, knowing he’s dying for it. You like it when he does, anyway, so this is an easy concession.

Your first climax comes soon, but it isn’t enough, so you don’t stop.

Without needing to be asked, Aaron goes for your neck, sucking and biting as you ride out your high. You keep his lips there, pressing your hand on the back of his neck. When the pressure is a little too hard, you hear him groan, and that’s enough to make you wild.

His hips jerk every now and again, the movement difficult on its own with the way he’s sitting and the way you’re grinding against him.

“I know you’re fighting it,” you murmur against his ear, sending chills down his arms. “You’re going to give in.”

The truth is, it is harder for him to climax when he’s constrained, but at the same time, he is fighting it right now. He hates that you noticed, that you know him well enough to catch it, but he doesn’t know why he’s surprised. You know him as if he is you. And the same goes for the way he knows you.

“Come on,” you press, lifting his head from your neck to look him in his eyes. Your lips brush against his as you say, “I want to hear you.”

He closes the gap between your lips with a fierce growl. The sound alone sends a wave of heat over your body, like molten lava poured overtop of you. You spread your legs wider, chasing your next climax, noticing for the first time how wet you’ve made the fabric of his pants. Or maybe some of it is from him, too.

“Let go,” you demand, lowering your hands to rake your nails over his chest. He shudders at the movement, his head falling onto your shoulder. His moans are broken, almost sobs. “Let me hear you, baby.”

You reach down and rub your clit, desperate to reach your climax at the same time as Aaron. Your sounds drive him over the edge.

He tenses, cries. His hips jerk in sync with yours, and you feel him twitch beneath you -- a harsh movement for you to be able to feel it through the layers.

You drive your hips down toward his, already cumming when he finally breaks, and climaxes with a shout. It lasts much longer than normal, purely because of how constricted his movements are.

“That’s it,” you murmur, pressing your chest against his, relishing in the sweet pleasure of your simultaneous highs. “That’s it, baby.”

He rests his head on your shoulder, his chest heaving.

“Are you okay?” you ask, chuckling a little when he nods.

“I’m great, I’m— Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Here, let me.”

“No, I got it,” Aaron flexes his wrists and the tie comes off, falling to the ground.

Your eyes widen. “That’s hot.”

“Really?” he laughs, smoothing his hands down your arms.

“Oh yeah,” you nod, holding his face. He’s still hard beneath you. “Continue in the bedroom?”

His only response is standing up, with you in his arms, carrying you down the hall for more ‘apologies’.

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch fanfic #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x fem!reader smut #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner angst #hotch angst

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artists-ally · 6 months

Text

{Train Wreck} Azriel x Cassian!Sister {Pt. 2}

Why hello there my loves!!! There was so much positive response for that first part???? I cannot believe people genuinely enjoy my writing so much it makes me feel so appreciated! Anyway, here is part two! Enjoy!! Also, I promise other parts won't be this long, I got a little carried away 😅

Part 1

Word Count: 16,171 (totally should've made this two parts but... oh well)

Warnings: Modern AU, OFC, language, hurt/comfort, angst, arrest, drinking, gambling, mentions of trauma, trauma responses, panic attacks

Summary: As Ira gets settled in, there is a constant set of eyes on her from Cassian. He offers Ira a chance to make a good impression, but is bringing his train wreck of a sister to his annual charity event a good idea?

Tagging: @blessthepizzaman @cyrygher @librafairy @needylilgal022 @thelov3lybookworm @bubybubsters

~~~~~~

It has only been two days and I already want to push Cassian off a bridge.

His rules are in-fucking-sane. He won’t let me outside before eight, and wants me to be back by ten. There is no going outside unless I clear it with him first, tell him when I get wherever I’m going, and when I get back. I mean, how ridiculous can he get?

Apparently even more.

“And I will need you to sign this.”

Cassian slid a piece of paper across from me. In addition to the other one he gave me of the drafted fucking mandate. “Is this some kind of a joke?” It was an NDA.

“We–meaning Rhys, Az, and myself– have a very strict confidentiality agreement. Not only with ourselves but with our investors, lawyers, and employees. Since you are going to be living with me for the foreseeable future, you need to be a part of that. We are going to discuss business operations when you are around and you are not allowed to repeat them to anyone. Under any circumstances.”

“And who exactly am I going to be repeating all of these things to?”

Cassian shrugs, “I don’t know, and I really don’t care. You’re gonna make new friends, Ira. And we aren’t exactly a small town rodeo here, so people will know who we are and will want to know shit. So, sign here, and then you are free to go.”

“I’m hardly free, I feel like I’m back in juvy,” I whispered that last part for only me to hear, flicking the pen across the paper. “Happy?”

“Sure, I’m happy,” he rolled his eyes. “Oh, and before I forget, you’re coming out with us tonight.”

My ears perked up at that. Cass got up and I scurried after him, the dining room chair scratching on the floor. “Really? When? And for what?”

“Every year we have a fundraiser for our community,” Cassian explains as I quicken my pace to keep up with him. Fuck him and his long ass legs. “All the money we make from the auction, poker tournament, and bingo night are collected and donated to the city.”

“Bingo, really?”

“We have to appease the older crowd somehow,” Cassian shrugged, heading down a long hallway in his house. It was a lot more compact than Rhys and Feyre’s home, but equally as flamboyant. It was smooshed in a line of townhouses somewhere in the city. Cassian opened a door to a guest bedroom and led me to a closet. “Here are some of Nesta’s old dresses. A couple of Feyre’s too, and some of Mor’s.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not but I am not built like they are, Cass. What the hell am I supposed to do with those?”

“Figure it out,” he gave me an unamused smile. “You’re crafty, I’m sure you can make something work.”

He left me in the closet and I looked around. It has been years since I’ve worn anything other than jeans and a t-shirt, let alone a dress. The closest thing was the skirt I had borrowed from Mor a few days ago.

As I rummaged through, I slowly began to realize that none of these were going to fit. I was going to have to figure something out because who knew when the next time I could go out would be. And I was not going to miss this.

There were a couple of options, and when I tried them on, either the zipper in the back wouldn’t move or the sleeves wouldn’t fit over my shoulders. Sometimes the bust was too tight, but the waist was fine, or the other way around. I ripped more than a few on accident. My best bet was to find two similar colors and try and piece them together.

I snatched two black dresses and went back to my room. I looked at the pair of scissors on my desk and at the dresses. I hoped no one would need these one day.

My cuts were average and jagged, but I had plans to pin them together with some safety pins I found in a drawer. I cut off the skirt of one of them and made a slit to the hip. When I shimmied it on, I rolled over the hem and pinned it in place, making it as even as I could. The top would be… tricky.

I didn’t have a choice but to cut off the sleeves and make it completely strapless. And I had to cut a V in it so my boobs would fit. Normally I loved them, but right now they were my mortal fucking enemy– besides the law of course. It was tight across my ribs, but at least I could breathe. There was some good boning in the bodice so at least I wouldn’t flash anyone.

Not that I would mind, I needed some action. To blow off some steam since being reinstated with Cassian.

And there was little I could do to keep my thoughts away from Azriel. About blowing off some of my steam with him. And blowing him in general.

Fuck was he hot. I mean, it seemed impossible to have such an attractive group of people all in one spot, and then there was me. I wouldn’t ever say that I was ugly, but Mor and the others? Devastatingly gorgeous.

But that’s besides the point. Azriel has been around, but really never around. He’s here in the morning when I wake up, but never comes back until late at night. Which leaves me with little to no time to admire him. I can hear him come in since his room is right next to mine, but he never acknowledges me.

Probably for the better. Or worse, I haven't decided yet.

Azriel was secluded, I could gather that much. And from what Cassian told me he was– or had been– struggling through something. But what did that have to do with me? It wasn’t like I wanted to marry the guy, I just wanted him to rail me and then I’d be good. What's so harmful about that?

But don’t even get me started on the way he acts whenever he is around me. He’s kind of a prick, always making fun of the way I’m dressed or the way I wear my hair. Always has some rude remark that makes me want to punch that perfect face of his. And kiss it.

There is definitely something seriously wrong with me and my delusional thinking but I refuse to acknowledge it because it is the only coping mechanism I have developed that doesn’t involve me in handcuffs.

Now, if Azriel wanted to put me in handcuffs then-

“Ira?” Mor called from somewhere. “Where are you?”

“My room,” I mumbled around the roll of body tape in my mouth as I tried to lay the fabric over my bits to cover me up. “God fucking dammit.”

“Uh oh, Nesta isn’t going to be happy when she sees you mangled her engagement dress.”

“Her what?” Oh no, no no no Cassian is going to end me.

Mor burst out laughing and leaned up against the wall. “I’m just fucking with you. It was one of my old college sorority dresses. It’s no big deal, I didn’t even know I had that one still.”

“Oh, well… sorry. I wouldn’t have needed to if Cassian just took me somewhere to buy a dress,” I apologized, turning in the mirror. “What do you think?” “Cassian is going to hate it,” she smirked, looking over my shoulder.

“Perfect,” a grin of my own spreading. “Please tell me there is going to be alcohol at this event?”

“There always is, but whether or not you can have any isn’t up to me,” Mor put up her palms and sat down on the vanity stool. “I think it’s a bit ridiculous, what Cass is doing.” “Thank you,” I sighed out, taping the last bit into place and stretching to make sure it wouldn’t come loose. “Not that we know each other super well, but there are reasons why he should do it. Part of me knows he’s just doing it to keep me safe, but I also know its payback from years ago.” “Can I ask about you and him or is that just not something you're willing to share?” She asked, unlike Rhys or Azriel did. That in and of itself meant more to me than anything in the world.

Mor was nice, nicer than anyone I had ever come across. It’s who I spent a good chunk of my time with when she was here and not working at Midnight’s Shadow, Azriel’s club. We had built up a little bit of a relationship in the two days since she was the only one who bothered to ask for my number.

“It’s really fucking complicated. I was about 14 when he left? I think? I don’t know, it doesn’t matter. But I heard him in his room and then he was…” I shook my head, that sting in my throat coming back like it did every time I talked about it. “It wouldn’t have bothered me so much if he had just fucking told me.”

“He didn’t even give you a heads up?” I shook my head. “What the fuck?”

I just shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m over it.” Definitely not over it. “And I don’t want anything I tell you about him to change your perception. I’m sure he’s a much different person now.” “That’s exactly it, though. He is such a family person, so to speak, that it kind of shocks me. He loves getting us together and doing card nights with movies. To hear he acted like that? For fucks sake Ira I didn’t even know you existed… It’s hard to think anything but differently about him.”

I bit back the tears. Card nights and movies? That's what we used to do together. She didn’t need to see me cry, and I didn’t want her to either. “It’s not his fault. I don’t blame him for not mentioning me. There isn’t much to talk about.”

“Why would you say that?” Mor said politely, “share what you want, I don’t want to overstep.”

I fiddled with my fingers. Playing with the devil's on my shoulders. Should I just bite the bullet and get it over with? I just sighed. “When he left I had a lot of issues. A really hard time coping with it all. I made some pretty awful decisions and ended up in a correctional facility. Not really juvy, but not really not juvy if that makes sense? I don’t know if he even knows about it at all. Nothing good happened after he left and… I don’t really know. I do, but-”

“Ira,” Mor said in a very soft tone. Like she was trying to keep from scaring a wounded kitten. “You share when you’re ready. And I will listen.”

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think clearly as tears clouded my eyes. Mor stood up and came to a halt in front of me. “You’re gonna get through this, Ira. It’s gonna fucking suck, and I don’t think you’re gonna find someone who understands that more than I do. When I was-”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Shh,” she hissed, and I sealed my lips, a smile spreading across the pressed line. “I am a one-for-one person. You give, I give. You take and I take. I know there aren’t many people in this world you trust, so let me make it a little easier for you.”

I just nodded.

“When I was younger, I also made some mistakes. Got involved with the wrong group of people and ended up paying the price. It took me years to get over and I wasn’t sure that it was ever going to get better. Or that I’d ever be able to trust people blindly again. Then I met Rhys and he lent a helping hand. And, believe it or not, your brother made a huge difference in my life.”

“You’ve gotta be joking,” I snickered. “Nope,” she shook her head. “When he’s not entangled in work he can actually be a really fucking good time.”

“That somehow doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“What I’m trying to get at is everyone here has had some shit to deal with in their life.” She took my hands in hers. “Rhys was on the verge of bankruptcy, Feyre had to drop out of art school to take care of Nyx… we’re basically a refuge for misfits. You’re gonna fit right in. Now, enough with the heart-to-heart, you and I are going to go get our nails done.”

“We are?” I couldn’t help but let a tear slip through, and I sniffled. “I have to ask Cassian.” “He is so overbearing I swear,” Mor looked to the sky and cursed. “You get out of this and I’ll go talk to him.”

“Okay,” I squeezed her hands before she left. I know I told myself to not get attached to her, but fuck was she making it hard. As much as I want to fall into her arms for telling me everything was gonna be alright, that wasn’t realistic. And she wasn’t my fucking mother, and I wasn’t five. She didn’t need to shoulder my burdens. It wasn’t her job.

She’s just being nice. She’s just being nice.

I ripped the top off my chest– quite literally– and laid it out on the bed to wear for later. After I had gotten changed, I met Mor downstairs where she was talking with Cassian. I tried to slip past them to the kitchen but-

“Ira,” Cassian shouted. Dammit. “Come here.”

“Yes, Colonel Sanders?”

“Stop calling me Colonel Sanders,” he rolled his eyes. Mor snickered and Cassian glared. “Why didn’t I know beforehand that you wanted to go out?”

“It wasn’t her idea, Cass,” Mor countered. “I told you that.” “Seriously, I had no idea until she just came up,” I tried to express it as genuinely as I could. Unfortunately, another skill I had developed was seeming extremely genuine when I couldn’t give two shits.

“You’re gonna go with her?”

“Yes, dumbass. I am the one taking her,” Mor smacked the back of his head. “We’ll be back in two hours.”

“Fine,” Cassian pinched his nose.

“On second thought, maybe three. She needs some shoes to match that… new dress.”

“Do I even want to know?” “Nope,” Mor and I said at the same time, and we bounced out of there as fast as we could before Cassian could change his mind. She walked to a shiny, obviously just washed Mercedes SL Roadster. Navy blue with light gray interiors. Convertible. H.O.T.

“Okay, this car is sick.” I was basically foaming at the mouth. “What's the top speed you’ve reached in this thing?”

“The speed limit,” she winked, but mouthed a hundred and twelve. “We have an appointment to catch, but on the way back I’ll drive the back roads and give you a taste of the wind.”

I climbed in and sank into the seat. This car was comfier than my bed. Not that that was surprising, I was basically sleeping on a cardboard box. When I asked for Cassian's room, I should’ve specified that I wanted his room at his house. Not the one he occasionally slept in. But I guess he and Nesta needed the space.

Boy were they bad at being subtle in the middle of the night.

I need to make a list of things to get and double underline earplugs.

Mor must’ve been a local celebrity with the way the salon employees greeted her and offered her a seat right away.

“Who have you brought with you?”

“This is Ira, my good friend's sister. She’s staying with us for a while and we have the charity event at the casino tonight so I thought we should make a whole day out of it,” Mor smiled, scanning the wall of nail polish.

“Oh how fun. I’m Claire, Mor’s nail tech,” the lady introduced. “Please, take a seat and let's see what we can do for you this time around.”

On the way over I had looked up some nail inspo on Pinterest. Mor told me, word for word, to ‘get whatever the fuck I wanted’ because it was her treat and she’s always wanted a little sister to spoil and pamper. I wasn’t sure how that made me feel, but I think I liked it.

I pulled up the picture on my phone: medium length but very pointy. The accent nail was matte black, the others a shiny, deep maroon that faded into black at the tips. Those also got a sparkly topcoat and some crystals on the accent nail. I had a vision to do a dark smokey-winged eyeliner look with some ombre lips to match the nails.

Very classy but a little bit of ‘fuck with me and you’ll regret it’ vibe.

I watched intently as the technician, Melinda, carefully crafts the nails. How these people did this I’ll never know. The powder seemed like a fucking struggle. She started telling me something about the liquid-to-powder-ratio and my brain left the conversation. Very underrated artists for sure.

“So, what do you want to do with your hair?” Mor asked, bending her fingers to look at the pretty coral color on her nails. They were super shiny, almost a chrome finish.

“I saw this picture of a shaggy kind of french twist? I think I could figure it out,” I shrugged, looking at my nails before sticking them under the curing lamp. “What about you?”

“I’m just gonna curl it,” she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “Oh, don’t forget to remind me about the shoes.” “No, it’s fine. I have some different options. This is more than enough.” I had seen the prices of the manicure package. It included a full manicure plus a full set of nails. And it was not cheap.

“Ira-”

“Please, Mor,” I let out a nervous laugh. I cut it off almost immediately. I cannot start doing the Dana thing. “I don’t need the shoes. This is perfect.”

She just nodded, letting it go.

Thank. God. I did not have time to get into the whole underprivileged child thing. Where it made me feel sick to my stomach to not only ask for something, but to have people offer it knowing full well that I did want it, but would deny every offer. It made me feel guilty because I should be grateful for what I do have. I didn’t need it, but I still wanted it. A feeling somewhere between pity and desperation.

I didn’t want people to feel bad for me, but I just wanted someone to care. To understand even a little bit.

Trauma was such a weird, twisted thing.

“Do you want to add the sparkly top coat or just the shiny one?” Melinda asked, twisting the two bottles in her hands.

I thought. Looked at the nails, then at the polishes. “Fuck it, let’s do the sparkly one.”

She chuckled, tapping the bottle against her palm. “It’s what I would’ve gone with too.”

“Those are literally so gorgeous,” Mor leaned over. Hers were done and she was sucking on a lollipop. “You’ve got an eye for this kind of thing, don’t you?” “Always a dreamer, never the dream,” I batted my lashes playfully, sighing as if I were in a daze. “I think I’ve always liked this kind of stuff, I’ve just never had access to it until now.”

Mor patted the top of my head before saying she was going to pay up front.

“So, Mor said that she’s good friends with your brother?”

“Mhm,” I nodded, palms instantly going a little clammy. “Yeah we recently reconnected after about six years.”

“Oh, how wonderful!”

That’s one way to put it. “Yeah, I missed him. Probably more than I ever let myself think before. I spent a lot of time being angry at him.”

“Well, my dear, it is never too late. The two of you may have been going your separate ways, but it’s never too late to turn around. It’s only too late if one of you is left standing and the other isn’t.”’

Okay, did Mor accidentally make some last minute edition to the manicure package that included an overly inspirational surprise? I was not expecting that. But now that I was thinking about it… it was like Cassian and I were standing on two opposite ends of a bridge. The constant rumble for the past lurking in the darkness below. Always there. I could see him, barely, but that everlasting presence was there; a cloud of fear and worry that we wouldn’t ever get past or differences blocked my path to him.

Why couldn’t I just forgive people? Why did I have to hold grudges and make things complicated? I was wired so differently than most people. Like here I was, with Mor at this incredible nail salon and all I could think about was how much money she was spending on me. Why couldn’t I just be excited for my first real set of nails? Or thankful that Mor never made any type of facial expression over how expensive all of this was?

Dana and Arthur always made the same face when something was expensive, and I could pick up on it after only seeing it twice. Then I subconsciously– totally consciously– made the effort to pick less expensive options.

It’s in the same category of responses when I hear them coming down the hall and I have the overwhelming feeling of needing to look busy because I simply just don’t know how to relax.

Staking on constant alert was so fucking exhausting.

By the time I snapped back into reality my nails were done and she was wiping down her station. “Thank you, Melinda. They’re beautiful,” I smiled sweetly, taking the few dollars I had shoved haphazardly into my pocket and giving them to her. “I know it’s not much but-”

“Nonsense. The gesture is much appreciated but please keep it, dear. You are welcome back here whenever you’d like. You too, Morrigan!”

“Next time I will bring some of Elain’s cookies for you!” Mor called from behind the counter. “I’ll see you soon, Claire!”

“Bye girls!”

I could not stop looking at my nails. Could not stop pressing them against my palms or trying to do things without messing them up.

“You’ll get used to it,” Mor laughed when I tried to re-tie my hair up in a ponytail.

“I’m more worried that I’m gonna stab myself. Or that I’m- fuck. I have contacts in. How the hell am I gonna get my contacts out?” I pressed the pad of my finger against the underside of my lashes and pried my eyelid up. “This is gonna end with me in the ER.”

_____

All thoughts of doing my hair went out the window. I severely overestimated how well I’d be able to function with these daggers attached to the tips of my fingers. By the time we got back it was already three o’clock. Cassian told me to be ready by four-thirty. Lovely.

I rushed a brush through my hair and took some of my moose and tried to get the mop of curls to curl. Whoever gave me this hair deserves the death penalty. Whether it came from my mom or dad, I didn’t know, but we were gonna have a problem if we ever met in person.

I eventually found a way to pin it up to where it kind of looked nice. It was as good as it was going to get. I only had forty minutes to get my makeup done and into the dress.

The tape stuck– hallelujah– and I shifted the skirt around until my leg was exposed in the slit. Again, it was as good as it was going to get. I probably would’ve been better off with the skirt and just putting on a bralette or something on top.

Oh well, it’s already on and I don’t have time to fuck around.

For once my makeup went on smoothly and looked sleek and clean. And the lips to match the nails? Nail on the fucking head with that move.

I did actually have shoes to wear and they were some nice platforms. One of the nicest things I owned. Totally didn’t steal them from a girl in high school when I crashed junior prom. To be fair she deserved it. She’s the bitch that ratted me out, it was quite literally the least I could do to fuck with her.

Again, petty crimes.

Very fucking petty.

“Ira, it’s time to go!” Cassian’s obnoxious voice boomed up the stairs.

“Jesus okay,” I shouted back, collecting my jewelry and deciding I could put it on in the car. I came clunking down the stairs and everyone was already at the door. Another thing that made me feel like I’m suffocating? Running late. And I was always running late.

All eyes were on me. Cassian looked like he wanted to suffocate and die, Nesta looking pretty indifferent. Azriel was on his phone.

“You’ve gotta be- you know what, this is my night. Just get in the car. I’m only going to say this once but Ira… please just be on your best behavior.” Cassian dragged a hand down his face, shaking his head as he looked at me.

It wasn't my intention to be a problem tonight, I didn’t want my fleeting moments of freedom to be revoked. So I complied.

Cassian looked pretty good, all things considered. He was in a tux with a bowtie, Nesta in a very elegant yet stylish slip dress. Mint green to match Cassian’s bowtie. Azriel was… Don’t look at Azriel. Do. Not. Look.

“Fine. But what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“It’s a charity event, not a strip tease,” Cassian said in pure disgust.

“Well if you had just let me out of the house to go dress shopping then I wouldn’t have had to look like this. But, need I remind you that this is my fucking body and I can do whatever the hell I want with it. Why do you care how I’m dressed?”

“Down, girl,” Azriel mumbled from behind me. I whirled around so fast and he was right fucking there already.

Did he just say ‘down girl’ like I was some fucking dog?

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” I may have been at least five inches shorter than he was, even in heels, but that was not going to stop me.

“Well I certainly wouldn’t talk to Nesta that way, she’d make me sleep outside,” He ran a hand over his cleanly shaven jaw. “And last time I checked Cassian wasn’t a girl so… I guess that leaves you.”

“Keep my name out of your fucking mouth or you’ll regret it.”

“Okay, cool it you guys,” Cassian grabbed onto my arm, but I yanked it away immediately.

“Yeah, cool it, Ira,” Azril mocked, somewhere between a laugh and a snort.

Fury blinded me and I turned around to face Cassian. “So you’re just gonna let him talk to me like that?”

Cassian just blinked at me. “You're more than capable of defending yourself, Ira. And I don’t want to get in the middle of this. Not today.”

“I think what he’s saying is that he’s not at your beck and call. More of the other way around,” Azriel said in a very condescending voice.

“Do you really want to keep pushing my buttons? Because I don’t think you do,” I took another step towards him, eyes narrow and nostrils flared. I was not about to let this self-centered son of a bitch walk all over me.

No matter how pretty he was. I had some morals. Not a lot, but some.

“And do what, hmm? Who are you gonna tattle on me to?” Another step closer.

“I think my knee between your legs would certainly leave more than a lasting impression on what I am capable of doing.” I matched his step stride for stride.

Azriel grinned. "You have no self control, you can't help but pick a fight, can you? It's like it's all you know how to do."

“Alright enough,” Cassian stepped between us, pressing his hand against Azriel’s chest. “Az?”

“Yes?” His eyes never left mine.

“Back the fuck off. Don’t ever think it’s okay to talk to my sister like that again.” Woah. Not expecting that. I’ve never seen him leer at someone like he did at Azriel. Then that gaze turned on me. “And you, what was the one thing I asked?”

I could’ve sent him through the fucking gravel. “He started it.”

“You’re bickering like third graders,” Nesta shouted over her shoulder. “Please spare the rest of the fucking neighborhood and get in the fucking car or we’re going to be late.”

“Leave each other alone. There, happy?” Cassian cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. All I could do was bite my tongue and shake my head in disbelief.

“Prick,” I held back the urge to spit at Azriel's feet. I went for the car Nesta got in, telling myself to pick and choose my battles.

“Aww, you don’t want to ride with me, princess?” He called out, and I flipped him off.

“Do not provoke her,” I heard Cassian say. “Don’t make this harder than it’s already going to be.”

What the fuck did that mean? I didn’t intentionally want to make this a rough night for him. But now? I was thinking very differently as to how this night would go.

“Ira,” Nesta turned around in the front seat while I buckled myself in. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

I just folded my arms across my chest. “Easy for you to say. I mean, how do you even stand the guy? He is such a fucking-”

“Douchebag? Oh, I’m well aware,” she chuckled. “But this is his event. His project that he spends months planning and sending out invitations for. I won’t pretend like I know what the fuck happened between the two of you, and I’m not going to ask because it’s your business and I really don’t care. But for my sake, don’t do anything stupid.”

Harsh, but I got the message. I stayed quiet as we pulled out and onto the road. The air was thick with tension and I just wanted to get out of the fucking car with both of them. Even if that meant being attached to him all night.

Despite the treacherous waters, excitement and butterflies fluttered my stomach as we hit the highway and I could see some city lights in the distance.

“Okay, a few rules,” Cassian eventually said after turning down the volume on the radio.

“Great, another leash,” I sighed.

Cassian and I met eyes in the mirror. He was really not having it. I bit my tongue.

“I’m gonna give you a chance, Ira. I don’t want to force you to my hip all night simply because I just don’t. You can be in whatever room I’m in, but wherever I go next, you have to be there. And I don’t care if you’re drinking some, but please don’t get wasted. Keep a low profile.” “Done,” I smiled, nodding along.

“I cannot believe I’m going to say this but… try to have fun? Meet some people and whatnot. Just behave. That is all I am asking.” Heavy emphasis on all.

“I will,” I nodded. I’d try anyway. But if there was going to be tequila, then well… that’s a different story.

___

We arrive and valet the car. Velaris Nights Hotel and Casino shined bright in my eyes. I looked around and Midnight’s Shadow was right across the street. Hopefully that Azzhole would stay there. I giggled, Azzhole. I’m so funny.

I walked up behind Cassian and Nesta. Apparently I wasn’t close enough with them for the security guard to think I was at their party.

“Ma’m, the event doesn't start for another hour,” he put his hand out to stop me.

“Oh, no I’m with-”

“She’s with me, Derrick. This is my sister Ira,” Cassian introduced and the guard gulped.

“Apologies, sir. A pleasure, Ira. If there is anything you need, come and find me. Sorry for the confusion.”

Okay, now that was cool as fuck. I guess that’s the kind of reaction you get when your brother operates the whole fucking thing. That kind of connection could be fun.

On the way over he told me that he, along with another one of his friends, was the pit boss. The other one– Amy or Amanda or something– was already here. Apparently they were some pretty A-list celebs around here. The party was scheduled for six and they needed to be here before the chaos started.

“Not cool enough to get in here, princess?”

My stomach rolled at the sound of his voice. “Piss off, Azzhole.”

“Azzhole, really?” His brows furrowed and a smirk spread over his full lips. “Be original, sweetheart.”

“Wanna see how original I can be?” I fell into step beside him. “How about you’re a predictable, conceited, arrogant-”

“You forgot cocky,” he butted in. “And handsome. I’m very handsome.”

“Egotistical,” I listed off. “Like I said, you’re predictable. And I wouldn’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.”

“I’d hardly call it flattering, more of a confidence booster. Three days in town and you think you have me all figured out? Care to bestow some more wisdom on me, your majesty?”

“Please, the last thing I want to do is have to hear the agitating sound of your voice for the rest of the night. Piss off, will you?” I scoffed, adjusting the choker on my neck.

“Don’t worry, princess,” Azriel bent down to talk in my ear. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. You’ll find out that I can be a lot of fun. If you ever let your guard down, we might even be able to have a good time.”

“Yeah because my brother would be so thrilled about us spending time together.”

Azriel shrugged. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

Now, I know I heard that incorrectly. But before I could open my mouth to respond, he plucked a champagne flute off a tray and raised it in the air before downing it in one go.

I finally allowed myself to look at him when he walked away. He was dressed in all black; black button up, black slacks, black dress shoes and a black belt. And a silver watch on his left wrist. In another world I might’ve thought that we looked like we could go together, but that was galaxies away. God his back and shoulders…

His ass. He was dangerous. Probably in more ways then one, and fuck did I want to find out all of them.

As I made my way over to Cassian, Mor ambushed me and had a bright smile on her face.

“Hey you,” she greeted. “Don’t you look good.”

“Thanks. I love that dress. The corset top is perfect.” It was coral colored to match her nails. The structured bodice had sheer paneling and a floor length skirt. Her blond hair was in curls and she had on some wicked eyeliner.

“It was a pain in the ass to get into. Where’s Cassian? I need to ask him if he wants me on the floor or up with Amren keeping an eye on things.”

Amren, that’s her name. The other pit boss apparently. “He’s over there talking with someone.”

Mor nodded, grabbing some champagne for me and her. “Loosen up, babe. You’re stiffer than an iron pole.”

“I’m not stiff.” I was so fucking stiff. This place was a playground for adults, and I had just turned twenty-one. My mind was running rampant with thoughts.

“Okay, you’re not stiff. And I’m ShaquilleO’Neal,” Mor teased, linking her elbow with mine.

We made our way over to Cassian and Rhys who were talking with this ginger guy. He had long, fiery red hair and a scar running the length of his face through his eye. He was also quite stunning. I don’t know what’s in the water here but I think I need some.

“Ah, this is her. Lucien, this is Cassian’s sister Ira,” Rhys extended his hand to me, gesturing like I was some higher up.

“A pleasure,” Lucien inclined his head. “I am one of the business investors for the hotel.”

“Ahh,” I said. What the fuck am I supposed to say to that? I don’t know how to talk to these people. So I just stayed quiet. Cassian’s words rattling in the back of my head: keep a low profile.

“I’m not sure that I knew you had a sister,” Lucien looked me head to toe. “I can see it, though. Same eyes, same nose.”

Here we go again.

“I’ve been getting that non-stop since I showed up here,” I scoffed. “I mean could we really look that similar?”

“Well, we are related,” Cassian laid his arm across my shoulders. “You’ve grown into it, Ira. Dana had always thought that we’d look more alike as we got older.”

“It, by no means, is meant as a shot at your beauty, Ira,” Lucien’s lip curled up. “You look lovely tonight.”

He reached for my hand and gave the back of it a kiss. If my eyes weren’t nearly falling out of my skull, I might’ve accidentally done the same to him. Thank god I did not kiss the back of his fucking hand. His massive hand, might I add.

Lucien most definitely wasn’t my type. He had his life together and looked like a good person. I was far too erratic and damaged to be of any good to him. But if he was suggesting something…

“Oh, uhh thanks.” Oh, uhh thanks? Did you just get fucking electrocuted, Ira? “I like your suit, it compliments your hair very nicely.”

That wasn’t a lie. He had on a hunter green blazer and a black vest with a black tie. There was one braid running along the side of his scalp, down the side of his face and behind his ear. The rest of it flopped over the opposite side of his head.

“I think I’m gonna like you, Ira,” Lucien smiled, pointing at me. “See, she likes my suit. Why’d you give me hell for it?”

“Because you look like a stick of celery,” Cassian was very obviously in a mood.

“I do not,” Lucien rolled his eyes. “It’s too dark of a green to be celery.”

“Potato potato,” Mor shook her head.

“Don’t be rude,” I said to Cassian. “If he’s confident wearing it, who are you to squash that for him?”

All eyes looked at me and our little circle went quiet. Welp… fuck.

“Can I get you a drink?” Lucien asked me, clearing his throat.

“Yes.” “No,” Cassian and I said together. I glared at him so hard I thought he’d burst into flames. “I’ll find you later, Lucien.”

Cock blocker.

I gave a sorrowful look at Lucien when he walked away. Cassian was still focused on me, but the second he got pulled into another conversation I winked at Lucien. He smiled back.

I looked around at the main lobby. There was a full chandelier sparkling above me, and some stone pillars going from the floor up into the ceiling. The black marble floor reflected all the lights, much the same with the counter top of the bar.

Who knew a bunch of boys could design something so intricate and delicate. They probably had to consult Mor. Or Feyre, more likely. I liked the touch of silver here and there within some of the statues and decorations. The balloon arch was a little cheesy though.

I ditched Cassian and took a lap around the room, just surveying the crowd. I could feel his eyes on me every turn I took. Whatever. I guess this would be my one shot at proving that I could behave and control my impulsions. Anything to prove his ass wrong.

The champagne was weirdly sweet and smelled like roses. But it was alcohol and I was fine with that. There was a series of tables lined up at the side, but no food or anything on them yet. I guess they’d bring it out closer to the guests arriving? I had so many questions that I wanted answers to. Mainly what the actual fuck is Cassian doing running a fucking casino?

By the time I made it back around the room, I snagged another flute off the tray of a passing by waiter and stuck the empty one in its place. This one tasted much better. Across the room my eyes landed on Azriel. He was talking with a group of people who looked mildly afraid of him.

He stuck out like a sore thumb. Everything about him screamed unapproachable. All hard lines and defined muscles. There was nothing soft about him, and I was also very very fine with that.

Everyone else was wearing full tuxedos or gowns. But he was just in a button down shirt and slacks. Which fit cruelly tight on him. Showing off a toned physique. And his amazing backside.

My finger tapped against the glass with all the thoughts I was having of him. About his hands on me and his mouth on mine. Do I have any idea as to why I’m so ready to drop to my knees for this guy, absolutely not. He would have one hell of a blow job though. It wouldn’t ever happen, mostly because I think Cassian has already snuck a camera in my room to make sure it didn’t.

Voyeur.

Mor apprached Azriel, coral gown catching the attention of several other people. She stuck herself right at his side, his arm falling across her back.

Oh, fuck.

I watched more intently than I ever had. Were they a thing and I didn’t know it? It would make a lot of fucking sense. I mean, look at them. He’s hot, she’s hot and I don’t even swing that way. I’d be an idiot to not notice and appreciate Mor’s beauty.

They looked like exact opposites, yet somehow they seemed to fit seamlessly together. Her shoulder lined up with his, her hip to his.

My heart fucking ached. For no other reason than I was jealous he was touching her and not me. It made absolutely no sense considering I wanted to burn him from the inside out. He was an ass. But if they were a thing… I can’t fuck that up. I mean, I could if I wanted to, but Mor had been nothing but nice to me.

For the second time in two days I found myself acknowledging that she was a good person. A great one. That she did not need to be involved with me and my bullshit. Azriel may have been a gigantic bitch, but I didn’t want to cut ties with Mor just because I had irrational feelings for him. That would not be fair for her. Or myself.

Am I actually talking myself out of a bad idea? Wow that’s… new. Normally I acted instantly on every idea I had. Good or bad. Since when did I debate with myself?

I washed down the feelings with the rest of the champagne and headed to the bar, perching myself on a stool while I waited for someone to show up.

Not longer than five minutes passed when I felt a presence behind me. It was Lucien.

“Hey,” I smiled, a genuine one.

“I waited until the coast was clear,” he grinned, sliding into the spot next to me.

“Cassian is just a pussy,” I rolled my eyes, finding him easily across the room. He was a head and a half taller than anyone. Lucien snorted, covering his mouth with his fist. “It’s true.”

“I don’t disagree, but he is my main business partner and I do not want to get off that list because there are dozens waiting in line to have the business that I do.”

“You said you’re an investor? What exactly does that mean?” I hoped he wasn’t about to man-splane things to me. I wasn’t a genius by any means, but I didn’t want to be talked to like a child.

“If they need money for construction, or for a new stock, that’s where I come in,” Lucien explained. “They first came to me with the outline of the business and I knew it was going to take off right away. There isn’t a whole lot in this city besides rich people and their fat pockets. What better way to bring a city to life than to build something that can bring people in.”

“So you are basically their personal bank?”

“No,” he chuckled. “Not exactly. Yes, I have the money, but it is more so my advice they come looking for the most. Sure I could write checks all day, but you can’t buy good, quality financial and business advice.” “Have you ever heard of Zoltar?” I laughed, noticing the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“If you’re referring to the genie in a plexiglass box that takes coins in exchange for fixed fortunes, then yes I have. But I don’t think he’s going to be putting me or your brother out of business any time soon.”

I nodded along, pleasantly surprised by his professionalism. He surely knew what he was talking about. Not like I could confirm if it was accurate, he could be talking straight out of his ass for all I knew.

But he didn’t make me feel like an idiot, which I was thankful for.

“What can I get for you tonight?” A bartender asked.

“Honestly, I don’t really know. Something that looks fancy but is gonna make me feel it in the morning,” I sighed, and judging by his eager nod he knew exactly what I needed.

“And for you?”

“An Old Fashioned will do, extra bitters please,” Lucien gave a polite smile; it didn’t crinkle his eyes in the way I had seen when I made him smile. Reading too much into this? Definitely. “I don’t want to seem insensitive or anything, but how old are you? I won’t tell anyone if you’re underage but I don’t want to-”

“I’m twenty-one. Just had my birthday a week ago,” I explained. “I know I look… young.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Lucines ginger brows furrowed.

I just shrugged, “It is when you constantly get treated like a baby.”

“Fair point.” Lucien swirled his thumbs around one another for a few moments, watching the bartender make our drinks. “Did you do anything fun for your birthday?”

“Probably not anything you’d consider fun.” I was certain that telling Cassian’s investor that I spent my birthday at a restaurant, pretending to be a waitress to make quick cash, was not a good idea. “It was not the twenty-first birthday I dreamed of as a kid.”

“Bummer,” Lucien frowned a little, taking a sip of his drink when he had it passed to him. “When I turned twenty-one, my brothers thought it would be a hilarious idea to call beforehand and ask the bartender to freak out on me when I walked in. He acted like he had seen me before, which he hadn’t, and was adamant that I had been in here with a fake ID. Safe to say that I nearly shit my pants.”

I laughed, squashing the immediate guilt of using a fake ID on numerous occasions. I still have a few, but there’s no point in keeping them anymore. I can get in anywhere now. Totally legally!

I said thank you to the bartender before giving my drink a taste. It was good, but I could definitely taste the headache tomorrow. Was I a stranger to drinking? Absolutely not, so hopefully this would give me some sort of buzz.

“How many brothers do you have?” My vain attempt at not asking about the scar.

“Five,” Lucien’s eyes got a little big. “All older.”

“Jesus, and I thought one was chaos. Your poor mother,” I took another sip and felt my stomach ignite with the familiar burn. “Speaking of the fucking devil…”

“Ira,” Cassian spoke in a harsh tone. His eyes narrowed on Lucien. “Come on, we’re heading over to the greeting line.”

“Okay, have fun.” This wasn’t my party, I didn’t need to stand and greet people.

“Ira,” he bared his teeth. “Lets. Go.”

“You are such a cock block, you know that?”

Lucien’s cheeks were the same shade as his hair. “Oh, Cassian I wasn’t-”

“I know you wouldn’t be that stupid,” Cassian grabbed my elbow. “This one? Now she’s a different story.”

“You think I’d fuck your business investor? Do you really think that poorly of me? No offense,” I threw over my shoulder with a wince.

He raised his hand with an understanding smile, “None taken.”

A gentleman. I think I’ll add Lucien to my internal list of people to be grateful for. And that was a very very short list. He was a great guy, just not for me.

“I wouldn’t put it entirely past you.” Fucking rude. “I’ll see you later on, Lucien. Let’s go, Ira.”

“Shackled yet again,” I sighed out, not bothering to hide my clear annoyance as I picked up my drink. A Mojito I think? “Thanks for the convo, Lucien.”

“Anytime, Ira.” He tipped his glass to me, and I did the same.

I followed behind Cassian’s massive shoulders and scowled the whole way. Why did he always have to do that? Wasn’t he the one to try to make friends in the first place?

“Can I just say that you haven’t known me for the past six years and you have no right to make judgements on my character,” I hissed, finally catching up to him. “That was a total dick move. We were just talking to each other. You’re the one who told me to have fun here.”

“And what was one of the rules I had? Wherever I go, you follow.”

What. A. Fucking. Loser.

We rounded a corner and there was a grand staircase just outside the set of glass doors. It was lined with red carpeting and velvet ropes. To my surprise, there were some photographers waiting on either side of the stairs.

“Now, stand here and smile.”

“That’s it?”

“For my sake, yes, that’s it. Don’t talk to anyone, just be quiet,” Cassian squared his shoulders as he stood next to Rhys and Feyre. Nesta was on his left, me on his right.

“Eye eye, captain buzz-kill.”

He rolled his eyes.

“You certainly do like getting under his skin,” Azriel’s voice chilled my spine.

“It's another one of my favorite hobbies,” I responded, smiling as a woman and her older husband walked by, shaking Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel’s hands.

“Along with the pick pocketing and hot-wiring?”

Just to prove how fucking capable I was, I carefully reached down, effortlessly removing his watch from his left wrist without a single hair being disturbed. I held it up in front of his face, dangling it like a carrot. His eyes widened and he looked from his empty wrist to the watch in my hand.

“A rolex? A little… basic. Certainly this one could sell for a few hundred thousand, don’t you think?”

“Give that back,” he lowered his voice, and I smirked.

“Finders keepers.” I took an obnoxious sip of my drink.

“Now.” He was so easily ruffled. I had found a weakness of his; he did not like it when I touched his stuff.

I placed the hunk of metal into his open palm and he put it on with a clenched jaw. “Insult my skills again and I’ll make sure the cash is deposited into my bank account before you even realize the watch is missing.”

“You’re quick, I’ll admit that,” he still whispered. “But we both know that you hide behind a mask to cover up the fact that you lack any level of human decency.”

Now that fucking stung. “Who the hell are you to tell me about human decency? And what the hell happened to the whole ‘we got off on the wrong foot’ shit? Your words, not mine.”

I need to stop believing that people will keep their word. I thought Cassian was genuine when he told me to have fun and make friends. Wrong. And not that I really expected Azriel to stay true to his in the first place, but he had no business making assumptions about me. Even if they were right.

The muscles in his jaw clenched as well as his fists. It was immediately wiped away as another guest approached. But when he was gone, his mouth was open again.

“Fine, you got me there. Let's be civil and have a normal conversation. Are you having a good time?”

“Do you honestly think I am?”

“I honestly don’t care,” he scoffed. So much for the effort to be civil. His eyes locked with mine when I stuck my tongue out at him. “You seriously need a lesson in etiquette.”

“And you seriously need a lesson in how to not be a douchebag,” I quipped, catching the attention of the couple that walked in front of us. I mouthed a ‘sorry’.

Azriel’s shoulders shook with a suppressed laugh. “You really don’t know how to be subtle, do you?” “It’s not exactly in my play book,” I responded, plastering a fake smile on my lips. “And for the record, I know how to have some class.”

“You sure? Because you look more like you belong across the street.” He was referring to Midnight’s Shadow. And he was not subtle about the way he looked at my outfit. As much as I didn’t want to shiver at the gaze, I couldn’t help it. It made me feel guilty, especially when I saw Mor quickly stepping into line next to Azriel on the other side.

They exchanged a quick smile and my heart froze. Why the hell was he looking at me like that and not her?

“And I do. I’m far better at drinking and dancing than I am at pretending to be interested in this fucking sleep fest.”

Azriel grumbled another laugh, his voice deep. “The festivities are actually entertaining. All the old ladies flock to the bingo room the second it’s open. And the poker tournament is always fun to watch.”

A light bulb went off in my brain. “Do you have to already be registered to play?” My devious little mind was thinking about getting in on the action.

“No, why?” He asked.

“Because I might want to join them,” I shrugged. “What else is there to do?”

“You can play poker? I’ve barely seen you able to control your hair let alone your facial expressions,” Azriel teased, gesturing to the mess at the back of my head.

“I have an amazing bluff. See? My poker face is already on, I’m standing here pretending to be nice to you when I really want to kick you to the fucking ground.”

Maybe a touch too hard. But his lips curled into a smile and I didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked to my mouth. “Such a wicked, testy thing.”

“Got a problem with that?” I tipped my glass back, finishing the crafted drink before wiping the corners of my lips, waiting for a response. Again, his eyes went to my mouth.

“Absolutely not.”

I just rolled my eyes. “You fucking wish, buddy.”

“There are plenty of things I’d wish for before you in my bed, sweetheart,” Azriel challenged, rocking slightly on his heels. “World peace, a lamborghini-”

“A lamborghini?”

“Earplugs,” He rattled off next. “Seriously, do you ever stop talking?”

“Only when I’m certain I’ve made my point.”

“Cassian, your sister won’t shut up,” Azriel whined like a toddler.

“Seriously, you’re tattling to my brother? What are you, three years old? Get a fucking life, dude.” “I’m not three, I’m just annoyed.” “Both of you, stop it. Now.” Cassian was pissed. His cheeks were a little red and his eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets. “If you don’t start behaving I’ll drag you out of here myself.”

“Yes mother.” My jaw was damn near on the floor. I wasn’t five anymore. I didn’t need to be scolded by Cassian. And especially not by Azriel who was quietly chuckling to himself. “What the fuck is your problem with me?” “I don’t have a problem with you,” Azriel shook his head. “Despite my better judgment you’re actually kind of funny. But Jesus, you need to learn how to respect people. Do you know how hard he works to put this on every year?”

I didn’t, and I didn’t care. “Why does it matter?”

“It takes months and months to coordinate. Between investors, vendors, caterers, guests… It takes a small army. And to then suddenly throw you back into the mix? Did you ever stop and think about how he might be handling all this?”

No. I hadn’t. Not for a second. I didn’t respond. I am an awful fucking person.

“Exactly. This hasn’t been the easiest transition for any of us. So do us all a favor and cut him some slack,” Azriel’s tone was a little sharp, but he wasn’t being unreasonable.

And he was right. I hadn’t thought about how any of them would adjust to me being here. Out of the blue. Just in their lives and in their business after years of not knowing that I even roamed this earth.

“It’s not fair,” I mumbled.

“What isn’t fair?” Azriel asked.

“Cassian is the one who cut me out of his life. Not the other way around. He has no reason to be pissed at me for just simply existing,” I huffed, air rushing back into my lungs.

“I think it’s a little more complex than-” “What the fuck do you know about us anyway?” I spun to face him, not giving a flying fuck about who was listening. “Cause I’m thinking it’s not much because if you knew, you’d know who I was from the beginning. So keep your speculations to yourself from now on. Got it?” To my surprise, he actually nodded, biting his lips and not looking my way again as the rest of the guests flowed in.

I was hot. Burning hot with rage and anger and hate. The fucking nerve he has to pretend he knows what happened between Cassian and I. The second Cassian said I could go, I was flying back around the corner to the bar. Thankfully, Cass didn’t try to stop me. He might’ve walked out of here with one less hand.

The two shots of tequila left a wake of burn in my esophagus and settled in my stomach. I needed food. Quick. I didn’t actually want to give myself alcohol poisoning.

There were typical fancy party snacks and shit that wasn’t going to be enough to fill me up. The place was buzzing with people and now I just wanted to leave. I was irritated and a little sweaty. Those things didn’t mix well when I got overwhelmed. And the absolute last thing I needed was to have a panic attack in a room full of people.

I feel so violated. None of what was going on here tonight was okay. There was little I could do to keep my emotions in check. This was wildly unfair. Down right cruel. Cassian didn’t own me and he sure as hell needed to get his friend under control.

I needed air. Badly.

“... I don’t know whether or not that event is going to be able to fit into our calendar. We are already booked through the end of the year and- Ira?”

“I’m just going outside for a minute,” I said quietly to Cassian. I gave him a look I hoped he would recognize from years ago. The one I always gave him when he knew I wasn’t able to breathe right for one reason or another. “Just wanted to let you know.”

He gave a nod. And that was more than enough of an understanding. I kept my head down and pressed through the crowd to a set of doors. The setting sun greeted me as the chilly september air brightened my senses again.

In for four, out for four. In for five, out for five. In for six, out for six.

One of the only memories I have of Cassian actually being helpful was when he taught me how to control my breath when I had my first panic attack. I was about six years old. Dana and Arthur were having a conversation in the other room and I overheard them.

“She doesn’t understand right from wrong,” Dana shouted. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Be patient with her, Dana,” Arthur countered. “She just found out they’re not getting adopted. She has every right to be angry and untrusting of us. It’s not her fault. She needs time to adjust to the situation.”

“Yes it is her fault! She got into her teacher's purse and stole her wallet! She pushed a kid off of platform at recess. She is out of control. Here, at school… she is gonna move on to worse shit one day.”

“Ira,” Cassian shook my shoulders. “Ira it’s okay, just breathe.”I hiccuped a sob, snot dripping down my chin. My brain and chest and lungs felt like they were on fire. I couldn’t hear or see anything clearly and all my limbs felt numb and tingly.

“Shhh, Ira it’s okay. I’m here with you. Follow me, put your hands on my chest. Feel me breathing okay? Can you follow my breathing?”

I just nodded, not able to form any words. With every rise of his chest I pulled in a shakey, nauseating breath to match his. In… and out… in… and out…

I opened my eyes and felt my control slip back into my body. The colors in the sky grounded me back to the present and I let the tingling seep from my fingers and toes. Who would’ve thought that suddenly finding yourself back in communication with the person who abandoned you would cause such an emotional roller coaster?

I did not see any of this coming. In the past two days I’ve had more anxious episodes than I have in the past two years. That’s when I got out of “not juvy” and came to live with Dana and Arthur again.

They were stronger than ever and I had no fucking idea why. That's a complete lie. Of course I knew why. I hadn’t seen Cassian for years and now I’m suddenly living with him again? What did I expect to happen? Clearly I didn’t know it would trigger a fuck ton of memories that I’d rather bury in my mind for the rest of my life. But here we are.

Here I am. Standing outside of his hotel. His hotel. Having a panic attack. God I am so fucking pathetic.

This is not the way I wanted tonight to go. If I was going to be stuck here with him for the rest of the night then I was gonna spend it on my own fucking terms. Fuck him. Fuck Cassian and his stupid rules.

With another grounding breath, I rolled back my shoulders, taking another look at the sky before opening the door. I swallowed my self pity and put my game face on. Now I’m on a fucking mission. I was here to have fun. To make friends, per Cassian’s request.

Let’s go win some fucking money.

___

Two and a half hours later I had a stack of chips around me and a royal flush between my two cards and the river. There was a crowd behind me and someone’s sunglasses rested on the bridge of my nose.

“Miss, the turn is yours. What’s your call?” The dealer asked.

I had a royal flush. He was not beating that. Just couldn’t. I smirked, pretending to peek at my cards to appear in distress. “Check.”

“Check,” the only other player said from my right.

The dealer burned and turned the last card, and another fucking hit appeared in the river. I’ve got him by the fucking balls.

“Check,” the man says again, tapping his fingers on the table relentlessly.

“All in,” I said instantly, the small crowd gasping as I pushed the dozens of chips into the center pot. Could you believe that all I had was twenty dollars to start with and now I was over two grand? It pays to be bold sometimes.

He flipped over his cards, revealing a straight flush with a smirk.

I clicked my tongue, “Damn. Thought I had that one.”

“Ha!” The man pumps his hand in the air. “Nice try, pretty girl, but I’m-”

“Sorry, is that an eight you turned over?” I asked the dealer, full well knowing that it’s a nine.

“N-no it’s a nine, ma’am,” she pushed it closer to me and I glanced at my cards.

“Oh,” I chuckled and leaned back. “Thank god, for a second I thought you beat me! But I think a royal flush beats a straight.”

Even the dealer had her mouth open. The guy to my right damn near broke the glass that was halfway to his mouth. I flipped over my cards and spread them out for all to see. Cheers erupted around me as I won the whole fucking tournament.

“Bitch,” he hurled my way, but I let it slide off me as I stuck my arms in the air, pushing the glasses down to give him a wink as he walked by.

“Congratulations, miss,” the dealer smiled. “The pot is yours to cash. And there is the bonus as well. Follow me.”

Bonus? I got a bonus for beating some old man's ass at cards? Hell fucking yeah. I was more than buzzed and I swayed when I stood up. A hand steadied me as I wobbled.

“Note to self, don’t mix tequila with champagne,” I giggled. “Thank you, Cassian.”

Cassian? Cassian. Oh SHIT. CASSIAN. Uh oh. I'm in big. Fucking. Trouble.

“I think there has been some confusion, Darla,” Cassian said to the dealer. “She was not eligible to compete in today's tournament.”

“Oh? That’s not what I was told. She signed up validly and was-” I watched her eyes dart from my face to Cassians; albeit through blurry eyes, so maybe she was looking behind me. I turned over my shoulder, asking if she wanted to talk to the people behind me. “Oh…”

“Yeah, oh,” Cassian sighed. “Not your fault. We’ll think of something to do with the earnings.”

“Those are my chips, I won them fair and square. As square as Spongebob. The one who lived in the pineapple under the sea,” I clarified in case anyone didn’t know which one I was talking about.

“Apologies, sir.”

“It’s alright,” he tugged me closer to his body and I stumbled into him. “Let’s go. You’re cut off.”

“Should’ve done that a long time ago, Cassie,” I slurred some of my words, I think. But who cared when I felt like I was walking through the clouds.

“Don’t call me that here,” Cassie grumbled, dragging me away from the table and my beer that I'd yet to finish. Of course my only logical response was to say it over and over and over again as loud as I could.

“Wait, my beer!” I cried. “Can we go back and get it?”

“No, we can’t,” he snapped. Cassian dragged me around a corner and into some room off to the side. When he shut the door, he sat me in a chair. This looked oddly like an interrogation room. Especially when he flipped on the single overhead light. He took a deep breath. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“No,” I gurgled. “I am very much in my mind. See? It’s not going anywhere, my thick skull keeps it there for me.” “Don’t play stupid, Ira. What made you think it would be a good idea to enter into the poker tournament. Or that I’d be okay with it?”

“You didn’t specify that it was off limits,” I shrugged. He didn’t and he knew it. “And the bingo was boring. They kept reading them wrong and it pissed me off. They kicked me out.”

“What?” Cassian’s eyes were comically wide. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I kept telling them they were wrong. No one else was doing it so I took it upon myself. Batman has saved Gotham once again!” Cassian actually had to restrain himself punching me. I was sure of it. He brought up his arms, but did nothing with them. He just shook his head in what seemed like disbelief. “There are very few things that make me want to drive my hand through a wall, Ira. But right now? You are at the top of the fucking list.” “Get in line,” I swayed a little in my seat. “I don’t know why your panties are all in a knot. You told me to have fun. And I was having fun. I was winning money.”

“You are unbelievable,” Cassian huffed.

I just folded my arms. A knock on the door had me groaning and I tossed my head back. “Can I go now?” “No. Who is it?”

“Me,” a voice that sounded a lot like Azriel’s said. Great. Just what I need. Him.

“Come in,” Cassian commands and the door swings in. “What?”

“Amren wants to know what's going on. She’s kind of pissed because people are not happy right now,” Azriel said, and I could feel his eyes all over me. “Don’t you look like a bottle of sunshine."

I flipped him off.

“Tell them Ira is going to donate the money to the charity,” Cassian said after a few moments of silence. When I shot my head back up, mouth open in protest, I felt like I was gonna throw up so I snapped it shut quickly.

“Okay,” Azriel shrugged as if that was easy enough.

“No,” I blurted out. “That’s not fair, I won that money. I want to decide what to do with it.”

“Well, it’s customary to donate all earned money to the charity tonight. It’s the… courteous thing to do. You should know that since you apparently know how to be classy,” Azriel’s tone was laced with venom. Little did he know I had fangs of my own.

“That’s my fucking money,” I snapped. “Who gives a shit if it’s donated to charity. It’s just a couple grand.” I watch them share a look. Blinking. Not saying any words. “What?”

“Where did you get a couple grand?” “I won it,” I shrugged, not thinking anything of it. “I had a twenty in my purse and-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Ira. Did you win it or did you steal it?”

He might as well have slapped me clean across the face. The way my heart sank in my chest… he didn’t trust me. He had not one fucking ounce of trust in me. “You’re kidding, right?”

He just gave me an unnerving look.

“You really don’t trust me, do you?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Yes,” I nodded. “That's absolutely the point. I was just trying to have fun. Like you told me to do. Not everything I’m involved with is a scam, Cassian. I can’t even believe you would think that. I didn’t even know anything about the tournament until I sat down to play.”

“You’re saying you didn’t know how much that jackpot was? Or the bonus?�� “I didn’t even know there was a bonus,” I said truthfully. “How much?”

“Nothing,” Cassian dragged a hand down his face, thumbs in his eyes.

“Well, it’s certainly not nothing,” Azriel raised his eyebrows.

“How. Much.”

“Not a fucking-”

“Thirty four-thousand total,” Azriel said way to enthusiastically.

“You’re gonna donate thirty four-thousand dollars? And it’s the money that I earned? What the fuck is wrong with you? I could use that money, you know.”

“Why the fuck did you say anyhing?” Cassian was running his fingers through his unbound hair.

Azriel just shrugged, “Because I knew the look on her face would be hilarious.”

“Don’t you have better things to do? This needs to be a private conversation.” I was damn near seething now. He was not serious. He could not do something like this to me again. He’s undermining me.

“Not really, and this is really funny,” Azriel grinned, fussing with the cufflinks on his wrists.

“Why don’t you go suck face with Mor, you fucking asshole.” Woah… totally shouldn’t have said that. Even I was a little taken aback at my words.

Cassian narrowed his eyes and brows, just moving his eyes between Azriel and I.

No one moved. I’m not even sure anyone breathed. I just watched my brother and his douchebag of a friend exchange a series of looks. They made facial expressions like they were talking, but I never heard any words. Suddenly I felt a whole hell of a lot more sober.

“Good luck, princess,” Azriel said in that tone that made me want to peel the skin of his bones. Then the door clicked shut. Just Cassian and I. In an enclosed space.

“The money is going to be donated. And that is final. You’re going home. Right now. I’m done dealing with you,” Cassian’s words dig deep. I’m done dealing with you. I’m done dealing with you.

“Yeah, walk the fuck away. Just like you always do. I thought you’d change, Cass. But clearly you’re still the same coward you were six years ago. After all this time… you still don’t trust me. Still don’t trust your sister. It’s only been two days and you’re already kicking me to the curb? Some brother you are.” I was disgusted by him. Never in my life would I have though he would’ve reacted like this to seeing me again. Sure I expected him and I to have our differences. But this? This was borderline torture.

I watched his shoulders tense as he paused by the door. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t need to. I knew I hit right where I wanted to. And I hoped it fucking hurt.

___

The clang of something against iron forces my eyes open. I groan, trying to open my eyes but find that they’re crusted together. Fucking gross. I roll my head back, neck cracking with the movement.

Everything above my shoulders– including those– ached.

I practically peeled my lashes open one by one, light bright in my eyes. I blinked several times to clear the gunk and noted how dry my mouth was. Man… I should’ve drank more water.

I know I sent a neuron or two from my brain to tell my arm to move, but it didn’t. My arms didn’t move as I tried again, and then again. I sat up in a panic, taking in my surroundings as quickly as I could through the splitting headache.

Bars. Iron bars. Concrete floors, cinder block walls.

Oh shit.

“Ira Drallor?” Damn it’s been a while since anyone used my last name. A man was in front of me through the rows of bars.

“Huh?” My chest rose and fell quickly. “W-What the fuck is happening? Where am I?”

“Relax, you’re not under arrest.” Arrest… Arrest? Holy shit, I’m in a fucking jail cell. “We just needed somewhere safe to put you.”

“Put me? What do you mean put me? Where’s all my stuff? What happened?” “Calm down, someone is on their way to get you,” He held out a steady hand, unlocking the gate and stepping inside. “I’m gonna come and take off the cuffs, okay?”

I scrambled up and turned around, hearing the unmistakable sound of handcuffs unlocking. The second they fell away I grabbed them, massaging the red indentations. “What the fuck happened?”

“You were out on the street drunker than the Chicago Bulls after their NBA Championship,” he chuckled. Because I knew whatever the fuck that meant. “Someone reported you, not to get you into trouble, but because you were alone. Walking down a busy street at two AM. With one shoe. In the middle of the road. At least you still had your purse with and ID in it.”

So much for having any ounce of self preservation. Or dignity.

“Am I being charged?” I hope to god that they don’t know I have a criminal record.

“No,” he says and I deflate instantly. “But some advice? Maybe just… don’t ever do that again.”

I gave the closest thing to a smile that I could, and then he left. I looked around, then down at myself.

My feet were bare, but both of my shoes were tucked in the corner. Along with my purse. Two of my nails were gone and my hands were covered in grime. My skirt was torn and I’m sure that my face is a wreck. There is a little mirror above the toilet and I might as well have been out to sea for seven years.

My hair is a rat's nest and, to no one’s surprise, my mascara is streaked down my face. I look like I’ve been beaten half to death with my makeup everywhere.

Two things were going through my mind: what the fuck happend being the first. The second was Cassian might actually kill me.

Guilt and dread filled my stomach, pushing anything else in there to the surface and into the toilet. I gagged and hacked and coughed into it. This was definitely not my proudest moment. Vomiting in a jail cell toilet that hasn’t been cleaned in god knows when.

Just how I wanted to start my day. Or night, I had no idea what time it was. Of if it was the same day.

The guard must’ve been nearby because he brought me some water and a packet of crackers. He’ll be on that list with Lucien if I make it out of here with my head still on my body after Cassian shows up.

Fuck… what am I gonna say to Cassian? I hardly remember anything from last night– the night before?– and I don’t know the full extent of what I did. I remember the poker game and then being furious at Cassian about him making me donate all of it. Oh god… I didn’t have to get up on stage and declare that, did I? Fuck… this is gonna be a mess to clean up.

What I couldn't figure out was why I was so mad at Cassian. He probably said something stupid. He always does when he’s angry. I back-tracked through my memories. I was playing poker, then I won. I remember getting dragged into some room and Azriel was in there. No- Azriel came in later. I think?

Never drinking that much ever again.

“Well well well.”

I snapped my head up way too quickly and the light above me circled around and around. I rubbed the back of my neck, squinting until the figure came into clearer view.

That was not Cassian. And he was objectively worse.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed at Azriel. I was so not in the mood to see him. Or hear him. Or smell his cologne but I guess none of that was really up to me since I was behind bars.

“I’m the one bailing you out,” he folded his arms over his chest, smiling smugly as he shook his head. “You look like a fucking disaster.”

“Gee, it’s almost like I got blackout drunk and woke up in a jail cell. What’d you expect, me to be well rested and done up like a Barbie?”

“I see your attitude is as snarky as ever. If I would’ve known you were gonna get locked up at the sight of me and Mor I would’ve done it a lot sooner. This is priceless,” Azriel made a vague gesture to me being locked up and leaned up against the wall.

Him and Mor? Oh- right. Fuck, was I that obvious about it? I really didn’t feel like bickering with him. I just wanted to go home and go to sleep. “What time is it?”

He looked at the watch I had plucked off his wrist earlier. “Almost five.”

“AM or PM?”

“AM?” He gave me a funny look. “Do you have any recollection of what happened?”

“Does it fucking look like I know what happened? No, I don’t. But can you hurry up and get me the fuck out of here?”

“Only if you say please,” Azriel smiled, his stupid, perfectly white teeth flashing.

I blinked at him. “Azriel I swear to god I will-”

“Just say please and I will get that guard over here to unlock you. The longer you let your pride win, the longer you’ll have to wait for the aspirin, Gatorade, and bacon egg and cheese bagel in the car.”

Every single remark flew out of my mind the second he said aspirin. “Azriel, please get me out of here.”

“Like you mean it,” he grinned wider if that was even possible.

I was gonna put him through a wall the second I got out of here. But I inhaled, detaching my shoulders from my ears, and swallowed. “Azriel, please. Please get me out of here…”

Something softened in his eyes as he nodded to his right. The sound of keys jingling cut through the air and the guard appeared. Thank fucking god.

“Alright, Miss Drallor, you’re free to go. Get home safe, you two,” he smiled as I walked by, and I read his name tag. Benjamin.

“Thank you Benjamin,” I smiled, arms full of my belongings. “I’ll try not to get that hammered again. Thanks for keeping me safe.”

“I had a daughter your age once. If someone did the same for her as I did for you, I’d owe them a hell of a favor. Take care, now.”

With a mutual nod, I padded over- still barefoot- to Azriel. “Can we go now?”

“Sure,” he pushed off the wall, spinning his keys around his finger, catching them in his palm.

The sun was just beginning to shed light on the horizon, a few birds chirping along with the crickets. It was cold, and my feet ached more than my fucking head. I kept my eyes on the ground, careful to not step on any sharp stones in the parking lot.

“Over here,” Azriel waved, guiding me towards a shiny black Audi R8. Jesus fuck that was a nice car. I paused a few feet from the passenger door, taking in the all black vehicle. This thing cost about seventeen times more than my life's worth. “Leave any scratches and I’ll drop you on the side of the road.”

Some part of me knew he was joking, but I took it seriously. I just wanted to get back to the house.

I carefully opened the door and set my things on the floor in front of the plush leather seat. I began to go around the hem of my skirt, taking out all of the safety pins and cupped them in my hand.

“Ira that was… I wasn’t serious.”

I just shrugged, looking at him as I sat down. “I think I’ve caused enough fucking damage for one day so I’d rather not risk it.”

The car fired up with a touch of his finger and roared to life. Before pulling away, he reached in the back and plopped a small brown bag in my lap. Did he just… he actually bought me supplies? I peaked in the bag, cheeks heating up a little with tenderness as I saw exactly what he said he had. A bottle of blue Gatorade, a thing of aspirin, and a delicious smelling sandwich.

“I uhh,” I was genuinely at a loss for words. “Thanks, Azriel.”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem. It's one thing to press buttons, but I don't kick people when they're down. Despite what you think, I am a gentleman.” Why was he being nice to me? Why were his eyes smiling like his mouth? This is weird. Everything about this is weird.

We pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the road. Lamp posts were still on, and a few deer were over on a field once we got out of the main city. There was some soft music playing on the radio as we drove back to the house.

“I’m gonna warn you, Cassian is furious.”

“Great.” What did I expect, though. I shoved the bagel into my mouth and might’ve actually moaned at how good it tasted.

“In all honesty, I think he’s more afraid than anything. You were there in the room when he left and then you were just gone. Literally no one saw you leave, how did you get out?”

“I’m Houdini,” I snorted around a mouthful. His shoulders shook with laughter. “No, I don’t know. I just… do that I guess.”

“Not the first time you’ve had to make an escape, huh?” Azriel drove with one hand on the wheel, eyes flicking over to me before they settled back on the road.

“You can just add it to the never ending list of ‘skills’ I have,” I said. Every emotion wretched through my bones. Above all was shame. “He’s gonna kill me.”

“No,” Azriel pressed his lips together. “I genuinely think he’s not gonna be as pissed as he is worried.”

“What do you mean not gonna? Does he know you found me?” He shook his head. “What- why?”

“Because it would give him time to be coherent when he sees you after what happened yesterday. I don’t think you want that, do you?” No, I abso-fucking-lutely did not want him to prepare before I could get there. I shook my head. “Then consider this a formal favor.”

“A favor?”

“Yes. I saved your ass from Cassian, now I want something in return.”

“What could I possibly have that you would want? Cause you’re sure as hell not gonna get access to my top secret box of top secret secrets.” Maybe I'm still a little drunk. We took a sharp corner and I leavened into it, head smacking into the side of the car. Yup. Definitely still drunk. “You have a box of top secret shit?” He gave me the blandest ‘I don’t believe your bullshit’ look ever.

“No, but if I did you wouldn’t get access to it,” I smiled, taking another huge bite of the sandwich. It was so fucking good. “What do you want?”

“I want to know what the fuck happened between you two.”

The fucking audacity. He had no right to ask, and he had no need to be in our business. “Sorry, that’s one of my top secret secrets. Better luck next time.”

He clicked his tongue, “Stop being such a hardass for once in your life and just answer the question. I’m not gonna tell anyone, I just want to know why you two are at each other's throats all the time.”

“It really isn’t any of your business,” I said, folding my arms over my chest.

“Well, you’re living in my house so yeah, it kind of is my business.”

Fair point.

“There really isn’t much to it. He fucking abandoned me with our foster parents. Totally left me alone with them without a fraction of an explanation or a way to find him.” Why was I telling him any of this? I didn’t fucking owe him anything. “I think the worst part about it was that I blamed myself more than anything. I’ve spent six years of my live thinking I was the one who drove him away when in reality he ditched me for fucking you and Rhys. So I apologize if I don’t welcome you with open arms, but you mean absolutely nothing to me.”

Azriel was silent. I didn’t even hear him breathe. “Ira, it wasn’t-”

“There, I said it. Are you happy now? Fucking prick,” I ground my teeth together so hard I thought they’d crack out of my jaw. Tears stung my eyes and I forced myself to look out the window so he wouldn’t see my trembling lip.

In for four, out for four…

When we pulled in the small driveway, Azriel put the car in park but made no move to get out. And neither did I.

“If it means anything, I really hope you two work your shit out. Because not only is it a pain to listen to, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Cassian so…”

“Burdened?” I finished for him.

“No,” he gave a small chuckle. “I was gonna say challenged. He is one hell of a dedicated person. He's determined to a fault. And the way he talks about you is… he really wants to help you. He wants to be there for you now that you’re here. He just doesn't know how to yet.” “So he just sees me as something to fix? Fucking perfect.” I rolled my eyes, collecting my things and reached for the handle. It didn’t open. I clicked the lock button and it still didn’t move. When I snapped my eyes to Azriel, he had his finger on the child lock button. “Let me out of here. Right now. And I will not be saying please.”

“Here him out,” Azriel gave me a look. A pointed look. “He wants to help you, not fix you. You don’t need to be fixed, Ira. You just need to be shown some basic human kindness for once in your life.” “Because you would know anything about being treated less than royalty. Open the fucking door or I’ll show you exactly how good some of my skills are,” I threatened. I was not above breaking windows. Especially if I was practically being held hostage. He listened.

Wise move.

I marched up to the door, smoke billowing out of my ears as I tired the handle. Locked.

Having to wait for Azriel to come and unlock it was mortifying. It might even haunt me in my dreams. He strode up the sidewalk like he had all goddamn day, sliding the key into the hole and turning it.

The foyer was empty, save for the shoes haphazardly piled in the corner. Two short beeps rang though the space as the alarm system declared the door was open. The stairs were right there and it would be so easy to-

“Azriel? Did you find her? I’m about ready to call the fucking National Guard where the hell could she… Ira,” Cassian came out of nowhere and barreled into me, scooping me in his arms. I could barely breathe, and my head and neck and body throbbed.

I coughed, the air strangling out of my lungs. He was hugging me. Cassian was hugging me. He never hugged me, even as a kid. Only when I had panic attacks would he hug me.

“Fucking put me down.” I thought I was gonna be popped like a grape.

“Where the fuck have you been? Do you have any idea how fucking worried I have been? Where did you go? Why are you so… so dirty?”

I just gaped my mouth open like a fish.

“You wanna tell him or should I?” Azriel quipped from the corner.

“Pipe it, Azzhole.” I didn’t care if it was unoriginal, it was still funny. I turned back around and looked up at Cassian. For a moment I let myself believe that he was actually worried about me. “And I honestly have no idea, I can’t remember. I woke up in a prison cell.”

I watched all the color drain from his face. “P-Prison? What the fuck, Ira? You were arrested?”

“No, apparently a good samaritan saw me wandering in the middle of the street? Barefoot as well. Well, technically I had one shoe on, I have no idea how they found the other one actually-”

“You spent the night in prison?” Cassian roared, surely waking the whole fucking neighborhood. His eyes were huge and he breathed raggedly, hands smothering my shoulders.

“Chill out, I’m fine. They just kept me there to keep me safe for the night. How they got in contact with Azriel is beyond me,” I shrugged, brushing off his hands. I moved down the hall and settling into one of the kitchen chairs. Cassian stood so tensely I wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t break himself in half. “No charges.” “Thank fucking god,” he blew out a breath of air, covering his eyes with his hand. Then he glared at Azriel. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you knew she was alright? Alive even?”

Azriel just shrugged, “Because I like fucking with you.”

“This is not something you fuck around with, Az. This is my sister, she could’ve been dead for all I knew. O-Or kidnapped. How did you even know where she was?”

“I got a text from one of the bouncers that said a woman matching her description tried to break into the club,” Azriel’s gaze hardened when he looked at me. “Apparently you smashed one of the windows and took a bottle of Jack Daniels.”

My blood ran cold. Now that was a legit crime.

“So I went down the street, found your shoe, and eventually you. For the record, I was that good samaritan that called in to the station. So you’re fucking welcome for not pressing charges.” Azriel looked pissed. Rightfully so, if all that was true. All traces of that sentimental conversation, all traces of any kindness were gone.

Cassian just breathed in. Then he breathed out. A little longer inhale the next time around told me he was doing the same trick he taught me all those years ago.

I twiddled my thumbs. “Let’s get the yelling out of the way.” “I’m not gonna yell,” Cassian rubbed the looming five o’clock shadow on his jaw.

“Just get it over with. I can take it, don’t hold back,” I rested my temple on my fist, eyes taking in my dirty ass feet. I need a shower. And then a bath. And then my cardboard box of a bed.

“No,” Cassian shook his head. “I’m not gonna yell at you, Ira. I’m done yelling at you. Clearly it’s not getting anywhere so what’s the point? I just spent the past seven hours scouring the city for you because I thought you left. And I was sick to my stomach because of the last words we spoke to each other. I know I’ve been a shitty brother. A coward. But I just got you back… I don't want to lose you again.”

A rush of memories crashed into me. My very drunk words rattled around in my head. Some brother you are. They played over and over and over and-

“So you’re… not pissed?”

“Oh,” Cassian scoffed. “I’m fucking irate. But I’m just relieved that you’re alright.”

A total fucking one-eighty from a few hours ago. Huh. Weird.

“But Ira we– we have to do something because I can’t ever have that happen again. So, here’s what we’re going to do. Starting next Monday you are going to be working at the hotel for me.”

“Okay that’s… that’s fine,” I shrugged. I was totally expecting him to send me to the military. I felt like there was a catch coming.

“And every penny that you make is going towards paying Azriel back for the damages that you caused.”

There it was.

Well, it’s better than being on the street. I looked from him to Azriel. Him and that fucking smirk. “Fine.”

“Good,” Cassian blew out a long breath. “Oh, and you’ll be working for Azirel, too.”

“What?” Both of us exclaimed at the same time.

“Didn’t you say you could use an extra set of hands, Az?” There was a very obvious tone to him. He wasn’t offering my help, he was volunteering me. Involuntarily. “You can put her in charge of cleaning up in the mornings.”

“I don’t want her in my building, she wrecked it,” he spat, pacing over to us at the table. He was so tall from this angle.

“Too bad. You want the costs covered?” Cassian stuck a hand out at me, “Well there it is. It’s been a long day. Go to fucking bed, both of you. And keep your bickering to a minimum please. Nesta is still asleep.” “Good to know she cared about me enough to make an appearance,” I huffed, receiving an eye roll from Cassian. His feet sounded up the stairs and Azriel and I were left in the kitchen. Alone. Very very alone. “Look, I don’t want to do this as much as you do so why don’t we just sweep this under the rug and call it a day. Both of us know you could pay to have a window fixed by sunrise so… wave your magic wand and make it go away.”

Azriel grinned. A devilish look. A devious look. “Oh, absolutely not. You broke my window, and you’re going to come up with the money to fix it.”

Petty bitch. Only he could rival my pettiness.

“And if I have to call in reinforcements,” he pointed up, referring to Cassian. “I will.”

“Oh, because I’m so afraid of my brother? Please.”

“No,” Azriel closed the distance between us. His body heat radiated toward me, his breath fluttering some of my loose hair. “But you should be very afraid of me.”

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #acotar fandom #azriel x oc #azriel acotar #azriel x ofc #rhys acotar #feyre acotar #mor acotar #cassian acotar #azriel fanfic

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calebisdrawing · 7 months

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"Here three elegant couches surround an oval table made of black glass. All are set in front of a blazing hearth, above which hangs the portrait of a smirking nobleman sporting a broken nose and a tangle of hair graying at the temples. Several smaller portraits hang on the north wall."

"An ornate dining table stretches the length of this room, a crystal chandelier hanging above it imperiously. The silverware is tarnished, the dishes chipped, yet all are still quite elegant. Eight chairs, their backs adorned with sculpted elk horns, surround the table. Arched windows made of a latticework of iron and glass look out onto the small, fog-swept estate."

Another location interior for DMs and players of Curse of Strahd - the areas of Wachterhaus where Lady Fiona Wachter would most likely receive guests.

(Like this? Consider visiting my Patreon)

#art #my art #artists on tumblr #dnd #dungeonsanddragons #caleb cleveland #Wachterhaus #curse of strahd #losing my sanity

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d1ana-m0nd · 11 months

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╭─► ❝The Servant: Umbrella Academy's Servant❞

Five Hargreeves × Female! Reader || Written by Diana (d1ana-m0nd)

➢ Description : It's a well known fact that Sir. Reginald Hargreeves adopted 7 children to save the world from it's impending doom. Though, the number of children will change from 7 to 8 once a close friend of his, Rita Rossweisse was on her death bed and requested him to take in her child, who fortunately was born on October 1st 1989.

➢ Word Count : 8,098

➢ Links : Masterlist && Character Profile

Chapter 2: Run Boy Run

Today was a day like any other, you were double checking the number of plates, meals, and utensils on the table, in case Miss Grace missed something. Though that rarely happens since she is a robot and all. Although she never said it out loud, you knew that she gave you this task to give you a sense of purpose and fulfillment. After all, you couldn’t really help around the house because you were too small - you could easily be mistaken as an eight year old thanks to your height - so you could not help around the house as much as you would like to, the only way you could help around the house was through little things.

As you were busy prepping the table and double checking, Grace carefully placed a vinyl CD on a record player. It whirred and spun the disc for a few seconds till the narrator began voicing a detailed guide on how one must carefully trek a mountain.

"Have you double checked everything Y/N?" The robot asked with a smile, which you reciprocated with both a nod and a smile.

"Yes, Ms. Grace, everything is in order."

"Alright, I'll be calling the others over for breakfast, don't hesitate to join them if you are hungry." She offered whilst she gestured to the vacant seats on the front row seats, enough seats for you and Pogo.

"It's alright Ms. Grace, I already had my fill earlier." You politely declined, as you silently shivered at the idea of sitting besides Mr. Hargreeves; you would most likely lose your appetite before you could open your mouth.

Grace acknowledged your words with a nod and proceeded to ring the bell. In a hurry, you rush to the right side of Mr. Hargreeves’ chair to set it in place before he sits down. On cue, the numbers came flooding into the dining room, they all stood behind their assigned chairs awaiting for the head of the household's orders.

As the Monocle showed up followed suit by his unnerving presence, though everyone was used to it at this point. He then stood before the table, barely glancing at his children nor uttering a greeting instead his lips uttered a command, "Sit."

In synchrony, they sat down then chowed down on their breakfast. However, the others were busy with other things besides eating like: how Allison and Luther were making googly eyes at each other, Diego carving something on his chair's armrest, Klaus secretly making a blunt, Ben reading a book as he ate, and then there was Five who looking at his father, voicelessly requesting his attention - this mere action alone caused you to raise a brow, it was odd - though you knew one thing, you and Vanya knew that something was about to go down.

In your attempt to intercept, you were about to go to Five’s side to ask what was wrong but before you could take another step, he stabbed the table followed by the sound of ceramics and utensils jumping in surprise, catching the attention of the other numbers and the head of the household himself.

"Number Five?"

"I have a question." He stated with a smile, that smile always brought trouble and everyone knew that. In spite of everyone knowing that look, the others continued on with whatever they were doing, as though Five's concern was merely a leaf among the piles of leaves bound to be blown away by the wind.

“If you have a question… wouldn’t it be better you ask the Monocle after breakfast? He will only increase the punishment and training you have to endure if you don’t obey the rules.” You mused to yourself.

"Knowledge is an admirable goal, but you know the rules," Reginald gestures for you to reiterate the rules for the numbers - especially for Five - but, as you were about to open your mouth, Five talked over you. Albeit, it is annoying that he acts as though you didn’t exist but you already knew that was bound to happen… You just didn’t understand why he didn’t like you.

"I want to time travel."

“Ah, that makes more sense.” You internally groaned as the puzzles began to fall into place, he’s always been the impatient type. Of course he would ask for guidance in the most inconvenient times…

"No." The eccentric billionaire firmly declined as he went on with his meal.

"But, I'm ready. I've been practicing my spatial jumps, just like you said," Five abruptly stands up then teleports to his father's side. "See?"

"A spatial jump is trivial when compared with the unknowns of time travel. One is like sliding along the ice, the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water and reappearing as an acorn." The head of the household spoke in riddles but anyone who liked metaphors or riddles knew what he meant, you can never know the other side of the unknown.

“I’d be damned if he didn’t understand this.” You rolled your eyes at the thought of the brown-haired boy with how openly arrogant he is in everything he does.

Five looks away momentarily trying to process his words but his shoulders dropped indicating he gave up. "Well, I don't get it."

"Hence the reason you're not ready." This remark made the younger male’s face scrunched up in fury. Why was the old man so against time traveling? Was it because no one knew what would happen? Is it because no one was brave enough to face the future we set ourselves up with?

You notice from the corner of your eye that Vanya is shaking her head. Although you did not have telepathy, you can base from her facial expressions and body language that she was begging Five to not do anything reckless. The angry boy in school shorts saw his sister’s attempt but disregarded it.

"I'm not afraid." The boy stood his ground, his way of showing that he was not going to falter to his father’s wishes.

"Fear isn't the issue." The Monocle stated as he paused himself from eating, "The effects it might have on your body, even on your mind, are far too unpredictable."

Five scoffs silently in response to his father’s words. The boy hated how he was right but he’s not going to listen to him anymore, he’s not going to be a puppet like everyone else here in this family.

"Now, I forbid you to talk about this anymore." The old man said as he resumed eating his meal.

From Vanya’s seat, she looks at Five desperately, as if silently begging him to follow through with his father’s orders but he walks away instead. Everyone stopped whatever they were doing because they were shocked, unsure of how to react, they had never thought or acted upon the idea of opposing their father’s wishes.

"Number Five!"

"You haven't been excused!"

"Number Zero I order you to go after him, make sure to remind him that the punishments he will be facing for his misdemeanor will be severe." You nodded and bowed to the head of the household, then ran after Five.

You ran for the door before it could fully close and hastily opened the gate. The person you were after was a few steps away from you, ready to experiment with his powers. Before the boy could activate his powers, you grabbed onto the sleeve of his blazer, which stopped him from whatever he was doing.

"Master Five, your father is requesting for you to finish your breakfast. Now isn't the time for you to experiment with your abilities. You will have more time to explore them after the meal." You repeated the head of Hargreeves household's words, though they weren't the exact wording since you paraphrased it, because you believed his original phrasing was harsh.

The boy in school shorts slowly turned to you with a familiar scowl on his face, almost mirroring his father's signature look. "You infuriate me."

He took slow steps towards your direction, his eyes not leaving your figure. It felt like you were a deer in headlights willingly awaiting for your death to come. Oddly enough, you kept your composure, externally unbothered but internally dreading what will happen next.

"All you ever do is follow that old man like a puppet, you can't even think for yourself and you speak as though you are following a script." He spat, his words seething with anger but for what?

"I have no use for you, so go back to your box." Five ended with a glare and walked away as though he was satisfied with the damage he had done to you.

Tears lurked the corner of your eyes, every time he opens his mouth you always find yourself crying. Were you the problem? You didn't understand why he was so mean to you and why Vanya cared for him so much. However, you knew you couldn't cry, you didn’t deserve to cry. Plus, you'd give him the satisfaction of hurting you, so it was best to keep it all in. Bottling it up is the only way...

Reluctantly, you came back to the house empty handed.

Unbeknownst to you as you walked away, the satisfaction Five would have in hurting you would be short-lived. Five took huge steps to time travel, with each time he used his powers, the atmosphere and environment of the street he walked upon changed with every step of the way.

"Not ready my ass." Five sneered as he walked away from the mess of a household he used to live in.

For once, he felt like he was free from the shackles his father placed onto him, just because he had finally proven the old man wrong and he could live life how he wanted it to be. The old man was only preventing him from reaching his full potential. He can only hope that from this point on that he continues to prove him wrong.

However, the third time he traveled to the future, he was presented with a different future he had in mind. Everything he once knew lay in ruins, a wasteland of rubble and debris. Remnants of what was once a home or a business are what was left of the city. A once-great civilization now reduced to nothingness.

Five stood amongst the rubble devastated by what the future had become. It was now a world of despair, a place where hope had been lost and the future was uncertain. Out of desperation, Five ran to where he once came but all he saw was rubble, no sign of salvation within sight.

"Y/N!" No one responded.

"VANYA!" Silence.

"BEN!" Not a word was uttered.

"DAD!" Quiet, except for the sounds of fire crackling.

"ANYONE!" The deafening silence was making the child mentally mad, the sound of his own heart beating in his ears and erratic breathing made it difficult to focus.

Frenzied by the future he encountered, he tried to use his powers to undo his mistake, "Come on!"

The boy's powers fizzled as blue energy spilled out of his hands but it didn't work, he was still stuck, "Shit."

He didn't understand why, but the brown-haired boy immediately lost hope. The realization of him being stuck in this future caused his knees to buckle. Five watched the house as he grew up in flames, as the voice of his father saying "I told you so," echoed in his head.

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

"I survived on scraps, canned food, cockroaches, and anything I could find." Five chuckles at the thought of his hardships while you on the other hand couldn't imagine living life like that. You don't even think the others would have what it takes to survive that kind of environment.

"You know that rumor that Twinkies have an endless shelf life? Well, it's total bullshit." He added.

Vanya frowned, "I can't even imagine."

"You do whatever it takes to survive, or you die." The boy said, you could even hear a smidge of sadness in his tone, "So, we adapted. Whatever the world is, we found a way to overcome it."

"We?" You and Vanya questioned at the same time.

Every time Five brought up the apocalypse, he always made it a point that no one survived. So who was this other person? If he says that no one survived then why would there be another survivor? Was he experiencing the effects of time travel or was he that desperate to be sane that he had to project a human onto something?

The brown-haired boy brought the mug up to his lips, but he looked displeased by the lack of taste. "You got anything stronger?"

"Why is Five avoiding mentioning the other person? " You hummed to yourself as you downed the drink. It didn't make sense why he'd hide the other person's identity unless they are detrimental to him in some way, but how?

Obediently, Vanya refills the drink with Vodka and Five effortlessly downs it in one go. From one glance, he already knew what was going on inside your heads.

"You both think I'm crazy." He accused you guys, which caught you off guard and stopped your line of thinking.

"No," Vanya stammered as more words came out of her mouth. "It's just… it's a lot to take in."

"Quantum physics is difficult to understand especially if it hasn't been put into study so it would be understandable we would still be digesting this information…" You tried to reason with Five, which he somehow deemed as reasonable.

Frustrated, Five's nostrils flared as he inhaled plenty of air. "Exactly what don't you understand?"

"Why didn't you just time travel back?" The violinist repeated the question others used earlier.

Five scoffs then sighs, "Gee, wish I'd thought of that. Time travel is a crapshoot. I went into the ice and never acorn-ed."

"You think I didn't try everything to get back to my family?" Everyone in the room went silent, especially you.

You felt guilty for assuming he didn't want to go back home. After all, everyone in the household had no problem saying they would leave the house and it would be a dream come true if they did. You presumed that Five felt the same way, like he had attained freedom the moment he shook you off his trail but, apparently he didn't… Maybe if you had been persistent in pursuing him, then he wouldn't be suffering right now. By any chance, did he secretly wish you had stopped him from time traveling to the apocalypse?

"If you grew old there, you know, in the apocalypse, how come you still look like a kid?" The petite girl reiterated one of the questions that was asked earlier.

The boy in school shorts scoffs, "I told you already…" He sighs then begins to refill the mug with more alcohol. "I must have got the equations wrong."

"I mean, Dad always used to say that time travel could mess up your mind. Well, maybe that's what's happening?"

Your eyes widened at Vanya's words; the fact she was ballsy enough to say that Five had gone mad right to his face was something you didn't hear everyday nor even witness. From the looks of it as well, the boy himself was offended by his sister's statement but tried to hide it from her.

"This was a mistake, you're too young." He walks away from both you and Vanya, "Too naive."

Before he could walk out the door, the violinist grabbed his wrist, coincidentally recreating a past memory you had with Five, "No, Five… Five, wait!"

The boy in school shorts stopped by the door as he slowly turned his attention to his sister. On the other hand, you felt like a leftover, something that's meant to be given attention later, what the hell were you supposed to do?

"I haven't seen you in a long time, and I don't want to lose you again." The petite girl pleaded, her grip on his small wrist tightened, "That's all."

"And you know what, it's getting late, and I have lessons early and I need sleep, and I'm sure you do, too." She excused but you all knew no one was buying it.

Vanya then began to prep the couch for you guys, whilst helping her gather pillows and blankets for you and Five. Though you doubt that you would be able to stand sharing a couch to sleep on with Five.

"Here."

"We'll talk in the morning again. Okay? I promise." Vanya pleaded before she began heading to her room. "Night."

"Night." Five reciprocated her greeting, his eyes following Vanya as she headed to her room.

You did not know what to do… After you had just digested the information he gave, you had the sudden urge to hug Five but; you knew that you couldn't because he would probably find it awkward and you were not his sibling; you were not obligated to comfort him if he practically deems you as a stranger. Though at the back of your mind, something was nagging you to comfort him somehow.

As your thoughts of comforting the boy were internally eating you away, in the midst of your panic you incidentally saw that one of his hands rested beside his thigh as he restlessly drummed his fingers against the couch. Out of instinct, you placed a hand on top of his, his muscles became tensed at the gesture.

"What are you doing?" Five looked you in the eye, trying to figure out what you were up to.

You gulped then avoided his gaze, "I'm sorry…"

"For what?"

"For not stopping you."

His once tensed muscles relaxed at your words followed by his signature scoff, "That's one way of driving yourself crazy."

"I should have been there to stop you like your father told me but the moment you told me I was just a puppet… I- I stopped thinking and let you go instead. If I had continued acting like one, none of this would have ever happened… you wouldn't be suffering right now."

"I used to do that." Five said with a sad smile as he looked out the window, "I used to blame myself for not listening to the old man or for not letting you drag me back into the house but, then I reminded myself that I made that choice. It's a learning experience now, it's not something I can undo. The only thing I can do now is prevent the apocalypse."

Your clammy hands found themselves playing with the frills of your dress, unsure what to do with them. You didn't expect - actually, never expected - him to comfort you nor for him to accept the past. It felt so weird hearing something mature come out of Five's mouth, especially knowing how arrogant he is.

Out of nowhere, the boy took out an object wrapped in cloth from his pocket, he carefully unraveled the cloth and revealed a glass eye. He rotated it to the back to show the serial code, the batch number and the company it came from.

"I'm guessing that this eye belongs to the person responsible for the apocalypse?" You quipped more at ease after you opened up your feelings.

"Possibly, it's the only lead to the mastermind." He said, stood up then quickly shoved the eye back into his pocket.

"You're leaving? What about Vanya?" You asked, not wanting to leave her hanging by a thread, unaware of you and Five's departure.

The boy in school shorts merely rolled his eyes at your words; Vanya was the only thing that you could think of even after he told you the apocalypse was nearing. Back then, he would have found this habit of yours annoying, considering how you always doted on the violinist but, after what he went through, it felt like your doting felt refreshing and nostalgic for him.

"We'd only be wasting our time here. Unless you want to stay behind?"

In the end, you guys end up leaving Vanya's apartment through the front door this time. After asking around, purchasing a map, splitting up numerous times and almost getting lost, you guys finally managed to find the company where the glass eyeball came from. From the outside, it looked like a sleek corporation office. Whilst from the inside, the building follows the same vibe as the exterior. It was mostly white, and the walls were made of glass, nothing out of the ordinary, it's what most people considered “modern'' in this day and age.

You stood by the boy in school shorts who was holding onto the glass eye like it is his lifeline; To be fair, it is humanity’s lifeline. If you guys do not identify what caused the apocalypse nor end it then it is the end for everyone. So you could not blame him for carrying it with utmost care. While at it, Five is taking paces back and forth as his eyes wander around the lobby until a doctor that was passing by finally took notice of you guys’ presence.

"Uh, can I help you?"

Five smiled then showed the eyeball to the older man, "I need to know who this belongs to."

"Where did you get that?" The doctor’s eyebrows furrowed as his tone changed. Which took you by surprise, “Why’d he lose his composure all of a sudden? ”

"Why do you care?" The boy shot back, which made you internally slap yourself because you knew his response just arose suspicion from the doctor. You had to make an excuse quickly!

"He… I mean, we found it at a playground, actually." You said with a sheepish smile, but the doctor didn’t seem to buy it.

"Uh, it must have just…" Five clicks his tongue, "Popped out." He ended with a smile. To everyone, that smile seemed harmless but you knew that smile was anything but harmless.

"We want to return it to its rightful owner." You added with a smile, but it became more sheepish instead. You can only pray that the doctor and the receptionist just thought you were the awkward one.

"Aw… You kids are so thoughtful." The receptionist wore a small smile.

"Yeah, look up the name for me, will ya?" The boy dismissed the compliment, wanting to get to the point immediately.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but patient records are strictly confidential. That means I can't tell you-"

"Yeah, I know what it means." Five butted in as his eyes narrowed at the doctor.

"But, I'll tell you what I can do. I will take the eye off your hands and return it to the owner. I'm sure the owner of the eye will be very grateful, so if I can just -" The doctor's hand is out in the open, ready for Five to place the eye on but, the boy beside you merely glared at the hand.

"Yeah, you're not touching this eye." He threatened, his eyes hinting the peak of his anger was on the verge of pouring out.

"No, you listen here, young man-" Before the doctor could finish speaking, Five grabbed him by the collar which made him grunt, his eyes widening at the “young” man’s actions, "No! You listen to me, asshole. I've come a long way for this. Through some shit your pea brain couldn't even comprehend, so just give me the information I need, and I'll be on my merry way."

Before the older man could speak, Five interrupted him, "And if you call me 'young man' one more time, I'm gonna put your head through that damn' wall."

"Oh, dear." Both you and the receptionist mutter, though you more or less expected this from Five.

Despite the fear coursing through the doctor’s veins, he softly requests for the receptionist to call security to which she complies to.

Not wanting to cause anymore trouble, you approached Five and patted his shoulder and whispered, "We should get going…"

Five reluctantly let the man go then leave the building with you in tow. You both head back to the Umbrella Academy to try and find another way to get information on the lead. Leaving behind a confused receptionist and a doctor terrified of the 'younger' generation.

As you guys headed back home, Vanya woke up to find her apartment lacking you and Five’s presence, panic filled her then she began looking for you guys everywhere in her apartment building but found no one. Despite her uneasiness to return to the academy, it was the only place she could think of as to where you guys would return.

In the end, she sucked it up and went back, the violinist arrived at the academy, only to find it empty. She found it rather ironic because of how loud the decorations were compared to what she was hearing. The petite girl couldn't even hear Grace nor Pogo, where the hell was everyone?

"Five?"

"Y/N?"

Out of desperation, she heads upstairs whilst screaming. "Are you upstairs?"

"Five? Y/N?" The petite girl takes a turn to go to where their old bedrooms were located.

As she arrives at Five's room, she met a familiar face, relief washes over her. "Oh, thank God."

"I was worried sick about you guys." She admitted a hand ready to be placed on Five's shoulder but she noticed something odd. "Where's Y/N?"

"Sorry, we left without saying goodbye."

Vanya raised a brow at this, it was rare for Five to acknowledge Y/N's presence. Even when he talks, the boy usually goes out of his way to exempt her, it's usually the servant who bothers to use pronouns like 'we' or corrects him but this time, he acknowledged her presence. It was rather odd… perhaps they were getting closer?

"No, look, I'm the one that should be sorry." Vanya sighs a hand on her chest. "Yeah, I was dismissive, and…"

The boy in school shorts walks closer showing to his sister that he is willing to listen.

"I- I guess I didn't know how to process what you were saying like Y/N said. And I still can't, to be honest." She added, her gaze elsewhere most likely ashamed to show the regret in her eyes.

"Maybe you were right to be dismissive." Five exhales through his nose, "Maybe it wasn't real after all."

He turns and approaches his dresser to examine the decoration he had left behind years ago. "It felt real. Well… like you said, the old man did say time travel could contaminate the mind."

"Then maybe I'm not the right person for you to be talking to. Look, I used to see someone. A therapist. I could give you her information." Vanya suggested, as she rummaged through her sling bag ready to write down the number but she stopped midway through when Five gestured for her to not continue further.

"Thanks, but… I think I'm just gonna get some rest. It's been a long time since I got a good sleep." Five declined her offer.

"Okay." The violinist sighs as she retreats her hand from her sling bag then walks away.

The boy was about to follow her to check if she was going to leave the academy. Unfortunately, he was interrupted by items clattering, followed by you falling on your knees while Klaus comes out of the closet, take that as you will.

"Remind me again why I had to be shoved into a closet?" You muttered, wiping away the sweat that accumulated on your forehead. "Especially with Klaus."

"That's so… touching, all that stuff about family and Dad and time. Wow!" Klaus rejoiced with his hands up, though it was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic.

"Master Klaus, we just got Vanya off of our trail. I'd suggest lowering your voice if you don't want her coming back." You suggested but your suggestion only fell into deaf ears.

"I'm moist." The Seance declared, you guys were unsure if he was declaring that he was moist from sweat.

The arrogant boy took one look at Klaus' outfit, only for a displeased look to settle on his face. "I thought I told you to put on something professional."

"Unfortunately, that's the closest we can get to something professional with Master Klaus' closet." You sadly admitted, as you silently helped yourself up, since everyone seemed to be busy with themselves.

Five sighs then checks to the hallway to see if Vanya was still there. "We'll raid the old man's closet."

The curly haired male rolled his eyes, "Whatever, as long as I get paid."

"When the job is done, you'll get paid." You reassured him.

"Okay, but just so we're clear with the finer details, I just gotta go into this place and pretend to be your dear old dad, correct?"

"Yeah, something like that." Five confirmed about to make his way to Master Hargreeves room but Klaus' next question made everyone stop in their tracks.

"What's our cover story?"

"Master Klaus, I don't think a cover story is necessary for this scenario…" You muttered knowing full well your words would fall into deaf ears again.

"I mean, was I really young when I had you and Rosey? Like, 16? Like, young and… terribly misguided."

"Master Klaus, whatever roleplaying ideas you have is best to be kept behind closed doors for now because this is not the time for your shenanigans." You said firmly this time, but your words were not heeded.

"Your mother! That slut... Whoever she was, We met at the disco." Klaus chuckles, then he proudly looks at you both. "Okay? Remember that."

Five played along with Klaus' antics with a simple nod, though it was clear he wasn’t taking Klaus’ shit seriously. On the other hand, you felt like this was only the beginning of hell for you. Albeit you were more used to being surrounded by tamed people like Luther, Allison, Ben, Vanya and Five. Klaus was a different case… the walking contradiction of a man, who flew higher than the icarus yet he never reached the sun.

Suddenly, an idea popped into the seance’s head followed by him snapping his fingers. "Oh, my god, the sex was amazing."

"What a disturbing glimpse into that thing you call a brain." The boy remarked with a revolted look on his face.

Klaus placed a hand on his chest, his face laced with an offended look. "Don't make me put you in time-out."

Once Klaus was finished with his shenanigans, you three headed to Reginald Hargreeves’ room and raided Reginald's closet - though it was mostly you and Five doing the work. You were the one responsible for looking for a decent outfit whilst Five was in charge of looking for the dress shoes. Klaus was mostly responsible for filling in the silence with his usual “outrageousness”, as Five would kindly put into words.

Out of nowhere, Five's heart raced as his mind began playing tricks on him, blending the boundaries between reality and illusion. In his perception, he observed the chaotic scene before him, the world had transformed into a desolate wasteland, reminiscent of the apocalypse. Amidst the devastation, he witnessed a familiar (H/C) young girl in a Victorian maid outfit, your body convulsing as you reached out desperately, attempting to grasp the sky itself.

Fear and urgency surged through the boy's veins as he rushed to your side. Ignoring the dangers that surrounded them, he knelt down beside your trembling form, his hands trembling as well. Out of desperation, he shook you gently, attempting to snap you out of whatever trance you seemed to be trapped within.

As you slowly turned your gaze towards him, your eyes filled with worry, the Five's heart sank. He could see the pain and confusion reflected in your eyes, mirroring his own inner turmoil. The sight of the steel piercing your abdomen only made his stomach twist.

Worried etched onto your facial features as your voice awakened Five from his hallucination. "Are you alright Five?"

The whole room went silent at your words. That was the first time you called him by his name without an honorific, even the usually head-in-the-clouds Klaus caught onto your slip up and started giggling like a little girl. On the other hand, the boy was shell shocked.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but we have better things to do! Which is me getting my 20 bucks." Klaus interjected but a wide smile engraved itself into his features, it's a common sight to see a smile on his face but, this time it felt like it was alluding to something you didn't like.

"There was no 'moment' I was going to ask Y/N about the villains the academy used to face while I was gone." Five excused but Klaus knew otherwise, the way his 'little' brother reacted just now was similar to how he reacted when he wasn't high: Scared, desperate, and depressed.

"Are you sure? You looked pretty startled." You placed both of your hands onto Five's shoulders, asking for his reassurance.

"You called me by my name without an honorific. Of course I would be startled." He lied whilst he redirected your attention to your slip up.

"I… I did?"

Klaus sat up straight then placed a hand on his chest, "I'm wounded and betrayed by you, Rosey! To think we've been together since childhood, I didn't even leave your side for the last 17 years yet, you called him -" The Seance points to Five. "- without an honorific first! Instead of me! Oh, the world is truly coming to an end."

"I don't think you should be joking about that after what Five told you…" You muttered but the boy beside you pats your shoulder as though to tell you it was alright.

"As I was saying," Five adjusted his clothes then sat on an armchair, acting as though he didn't experience an episode. "While I was gone, did a villain named White V show up? Or something along the lines of that?"

You tilted your head, this name didn't feel familiar whatsoever. "I don't recall a villain named White V… maybe they will show up soon?"

"Same here but I do remember most of the villains being different colors besides white." Klaus mused.

"You know I didn't mean it literally Klaus."

"Just thought it would help!"

Trying to change the subject, Five turned his head to you and then asked, "Did you find something decent for this lunatic brother of mine?"

Once you raised a thumbs up, it was everyone's go signal to get ready then head back to the doctor's office to pester him once again.

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

At the moment, you three were back in the office. Klaus sitting down with a bored look on his face while you sat beside him patiently. Five, on the other hand, is standing impatiently pacing back and forth, whilst the doctor kept up a professional facade right in front of you three despite what occurred earlier.

"Like I said to your son, earlier. Any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential. Without the client's consent, I simply can't help you." The doctor reiterated.

"Well, we can't get the consent if you don't give us a name." Five tries to keep his cool by gritting his teeth to prevent any unsavory words from flowing out.

"Well, that's not my problem." The man in lab coat merely shrugged which irked Five even more to go through with his promise earlier.

"Sorry, Now, there's really nothing more I can do, so-"

From this point on, your attention is taken away because you heard your phone ring. You look down and read who the notification was from and immediately open your phone.

Just as you finished chatting to Vanya, you heard the impact of a fist coming into contact with skin and Five grunting in pain. Without warning, Klaus tried kicking you in the stomach as well, but you narrowly dodged it but, in the process of trying to dodge it, you were sent rolling backwards. Whilst you two were busy groaning in pain, Klaus decided it would be a good idea to hit himself with a snow globe.

The curly haired male groaned then yelled, "God, that hurt!"

Doctor hastily grabs the telephone. "I'm calling security-" But the seance wrestled it out of his hand.

"What are you doing?"

Klaus gasps dramatically. "There's been an assault in Mr. Big's office, and we need security, now. Schnell!" The phone clatters as Klaus slams it carelessly back into place, his gaze now focused onto the doctor.

"Now, here's what's gonna happen, Grant."

"It's… Lance."

"In about 60 seconds, two security guards are gonna burst through that door, and they're gonna see a whole lot of blood, and they're gonna wonder, 'What the hell happened?' and we're gonna tell them that you… beat the shit out of us." Klaus explains as he manipulates his voice and face to look as though he was appalled and scared of what Lance had 'done'.

You were oddly impressed and scared of Klaus acting skills, while Five seemed proud he chose the right person. Either way, it felt like things were going to turn out how Five wanted it to be but, it seemed like this was too easy for your opinion…

"You're gonna do great in prison, Grant. Trust me, I've been there. Little piece of chicken like you. Oh my God, you're gonna be passed around like a…" Klaus rotates his hips. "You're just- You're gonna do great. That's all I'm saying."

"Jesus, you are a real sick bastard." Lance grimaced at the curly haired man who claimed to be you and Five's Father.

"Thank you." He accepts the compliment as he spat out the glass that was in his mouth.

Once the whole mess was somehow covered up, the Doctor began skimming through the files to look for the glass eyeball. In the end, he couldn't find the glass eye including the information of the owner. He concluded the search by stating the glass eye isn't even manufactured yet, then asked how you guys managed to get the eye.

"I knew it was too good to be true…" You thought to yourself, as you all went back to square one… "Where to now? " Is what you'd ask Five but you doubt he knows what his next lead is since the glass eye was all he had.

"Well, this is not good." Five muttered, his disappointment becoming more prominent on his face.

"I was pretty good, though, right? Yeah. What about my consent, bitch?" Klaus chuckled proudly, you would have cheered on Klaus if it weren't for the fact that you knew now was not the time for that. Five would probably wring you and Klaus' necks just because he's in a bad mood.

"Klaus, it doesn't matter." The boy snapped, his hands stuffed into his school boy shorts.

"What? What? What's the big deal with this eye, anyway?"

"Master Klaus, we already told you, there is someone out there who's going to lose an eye in the next seven days." You reiterated as Five added. "They're gonna bring about the end of life on this Earth as we know it."

The boy in school shorts was about to walk away with you in tow to try and find another lead but, your strides to the different direction were put to a stop by Klaus' words.

"Yeah, can I get that 20 bucks, like, now or what?"

"Your 20 bucks? " Five repeated as he slowly turned to Klaus, his rage on the verge of exploding as more words came out of Klaus' mouth.

"KLAUS READ THE ROOM FOR ONE SECOND! " You internally screamed as you hastily went to Klaus' side ready to shield him from getting punched.

"Yeah, my 20 bucks."

"The apocalypse is coming, and all you can think about is getting high?" Five was seething while you were on the verge of slamming your face onto the pavement.

"Well, I'm also quite hungry. Tummy's a-rumblin'." Klaus imitates a stomach growling then smiles at Five but, the boy isn't too pleased about it.

"You're useless."

"You're all useless!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. You knew that he said it in the heat of the moment but, you were all trying your best to help him…

Klaus noticed your change of demeanor then tried to shift the subject. "Oh, come on. You need to lighten up, old man."

Five sits on the stairway in front of the prosthetics building. Trying to silently think of a plan B but, the seance just had to open his mouth. Five swore if he brought a stapler he would staple Klaus' lips closed.

"Hey, you know, I've just now realized why you're so uptight. You must be horny as hell!" He laughed then added, "All those years by yourself. It's gonna screw with your head being alone."

"If you want to let the stress out, why not ask Y/N for help?"

"Y/N seems like she'd be good in bed, if you're the type to have a corruption kink and all. I wouldn't be surprised if you have one because you seem the type-" Klaus snapped his finger, "And, andd~! She wouldn't get arrested for dating you."

You wanted to die on the spot as more words came out of Klaus' mouth. Even though talking about sex should be normalized, you weren't used to the exposure of it. Neither were you taught on how it works besides the basics.

"Well… I wasn't alone." Five admitted, a rare smile on his face becoming more visible as he reminisced about his significant other.

"Oh?" Klaus looks surprised as you, both numbers - you and Klaus - looked at Five in disbelief.

"Pray tell."

"Her name was Delores." Five looked longing into the distance, as he fidgeted with his ring finger. "We were together for over 30 years."

"Thirty years? Oh, wow!" The curly haired man chuckled. "God, the longest I've been with someone was… I don't know, three weeks. And that's only because I was so tired of looking for a place to sleep."

"We need to find Delores… She could be of help in figuring out what caused the apocalypse. But, is she even in this time period? How do we get in contact with her? " You pondered, your head was clouded with questions.

You didn't notice Five spontaneously grabbed your wrist then you guys are suddenly teleported inside a taxi. Surprised by the turn of events, you and the taxi driver gasp in unison.

"Don't stop, just keep going." Five commanded as he rolled down the taxi window and mockingly saluted Klaus.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! What about my money?!" Klaus screamed running after the taxi you guys were in.

Against Five's will, you threw a 10 dollar bill outside the window. "That should be enough for food! Don't waste it on drugs!"

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

You and Five stood right in front of Gimbel brothers whilst it rained. The droplets stain your clothes and make the clothing cling onto your skin. As you were about to pick the lock, Five stopped you midway through, to which you raised a brow at his actions.

"Are we going to use your powers? Shouldn't you be resting with how much you've used them?" You expressed your concern, only for your concern to be thrown out the window by the person who you expressed your concern for.

Five's brows were stitched together. "What do you mean we? I'm the only one going in."

"I… but why?"

"For starters, I already told you yesterday that I'd be the one dealing with the mess but you didn't listen to my orders. You could've been killed!"

You flinched at his words but tried to defend yourself. "You were about to be killed as well, that's why I intervened."

"Stay here. If anything else happens, call the police then go home by yourself, I don't need to lug around your weight." The boy stated as he teleported into the building before you could even interject.

Reluctantly, you wait for him from a nearby building whilst waiting, you witness two people enter the store. You were about to follow them as Five's back up when you heard gunshots but, you recalled Five's orders, and instead chose to rush to the nearest telephone booth to call the police. Once the police arrived, you wait for Five to exit the store and met up with him in the next corner then escorted him back home.

Unbeknownst to you guys, Allison and Luther were busy talking about Grace and Y/N until you guys show up and pass by them. They stop to see that Five looked beaten up whilst you carried the top half of a mannequin. Hopefully, they don't ask where you got it and what you intended to do with it.

"What the hell happened to you guys?" Allison voiced her concern as she went to your side to check if you had any bruises as well.

"Thank god, they aren't asking about the mannequin." You sighed in relief, grateful that they didn't question if you guys committed theft. To be fair, if you would have known Delores was a mannequin you would have just bought her or bought a look alike and dressed it up as her, rather than being chased by the police.

"Are you okay? Can we help?" Luther tries to put a hand on Five's shoulder but the boy caught Spaceboy's wrist midway.

"There's nothing you can do."

"There's nothing any of you can do."

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

As the boy in school shorts began investigating the remnants of the Umbrella Academy, he saw a gloved hand holding onto something round. He ran over to where the hand was poking out and grabbed it. It was a glass eyeball, freshly taken out of someone's eye socket. Five tried to remove some of the rubble to see if the person underneath it was someone he knew, and he was right. It was Luther.

Whilst trying to look for any more clues, Five stumbles upon other familiar faces, one by one he sees his dead siblings: Allison, Diego, and Klaus. Everyone he grew up with was dead, he had lost all hope for mankind. However, amidst the devastation, he witnessed a familiar (H/C) young girl in a Victorian maid outfit, your body convulsing as you reached out desperately, attempting to grasp the sky itself.

As you slowly turned your gaze towards him, your eyes filled with worry, the boy's heart sank. He could see the pain and confusion reflected in your eyes, mirroring his own inner turmoil. The sight of the steel piercing your abdomen only made his stomach twist.

He hurriedly and carefully removes you from the steel that pierced you. When your eyes landed on him, you wore a small smile.

"Five… Huh, I must be dreaming." You said chuckling though, it turned into a coughing fit instead.

"No, this is the real me, I'm not dead." The boy reassured you by touching your cheek, which led you to cry. The warmth of seeing someone in your last moments made you want to be greedy and hold onto life just a little longer but, you knew you didn't have the strength to do so.

"What happened? Who did this to you?" Five wanted answers quickly, he wanted to save his family somehow, knowing who did this might relinquish the pain he feels right now.

"White V…" Those were the last words that trailed off your lips. In the end, the pain he felt was going to last for 46 years in isolation.

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