#and of course it was a sketchy looking middle-aged man

[akela-nakamura]

DPxDC Prompt

Summoning is an imperfect art, mispronouncing a name or having an incorrect symbol can lead to unexpected, and sometimes explosive results. Summoning can open unexpected doors. No one's prepared for what--or who--steps through when a rising gang tries to summon backup.

My little ficlet for this is below the cut:

Smoke. The acrid slam of it in the nose, brought on by the screaming wind. Chanting. A chorus of voices, steady and thrumming. Pain. Everything is hazy, and it’s equal odds on it being from the smoke or the potential head injury. 

Bruce stumbles to his feet, body throbbing. 

This was not how he’d planned this night. 

Of course, he hadn’t planned for Gotham to suddenly be overrun with a new…gang? They claimed to be a government organization, but Bruce has his doubts. He hadn’t had a chance to go through the GIW’s information, but according to Barbara, their claims were sketchy at best.

The shouting about ghosts and waving around sci-fi weapons with no trigger discipline certainly didn’t help their claims. 

Government organization or not, they had no right to raid homes, to drag people out onto the street, or overall threaten his city.

His ears ring, and the chanting rises in volume, impossibly. His chest reverbes with the sound. It’s steady enough to feel like a second heart. His blurry vision locks onto the center of the summoning circle. Because this night couldn’t get any worse, of course. 

First the GIW had rocketed up his list of threats with one simple move. 

They’d gone after Jason.

Jason, who even now was laid out in the middle of the summoning circle, eyes bright, bright, bright green through the haze. 

First they’d taken his son. 

Then they’d used him as a sacrifice. 

Bruce bared his teeth, locking eyes with the closest GIW agent. The man held up his weapon, a glowing baton. His form is weak. 

The baton gord flying, Bruce’s armored elbow slamming the man to the ground. The agent curls up, groaning. Nightwing’s escrima sing electric in the background, followed by the whip of Tim’s bow staff. Damian’s sword glints through the haze, and purple flashes through the crowd of white, white, white. 

He can’t see Cass, but he doesn’t expect too. 

The ground rocks under his feet, and it takes several precious seconds to regain his balance. There seems to be an almost endless flood of agents, with more and more meeting his fists as he tries to make it through the gauntlet. 

Suddenly, the air shifts, the scream of it heading for the circle instead of out. 

The circle glows toxic green, and Jason’s at the center, frozen in the light. 

“No!” Bruce shouts, the sound ripping from his soul. 

It’s echoed by Dick, who stands just outside the circle’s boundaries. His hands are pressed against the light, his blue eyes a shock against the green. 

It’s a confusion of people - GIW white and the summoner’s black. The GIW is here to end whatever it is they need Jason to summon to them. The summoners themselves seem to have broken away from the “agency” and want power from the being they’re calling. It’s a fight on multiple fronts, with the GIW fighting the summoners and Bruce and his family fighting them all. 

The temperature drops. 

“HOOD!” Dick screams, as Jason is swallowed by the green. 

The chant is all he can hear, even as he shoves towards the circle, even as he slams against the same wall Dick’s against. 

The world goes bright and he can’t keep his eyes on Jason. On his son. 

When the light fades, Jason’s not alone. 

A being sits six feet in the air, Jason collapsed over his lap, somehow hovering with the - what is he? He looks human, but there’s something wrong. Off. Bruce can’t quite pinpoint his age. A crown glows on his head, an ever shifting cape spills down his back, dragging close to the floor. His eyes are green as Lazarus, and just as deep. Jason is breathing, Bruce notes. The being’s hands curl in Jason’s hair, playing with it idly. 

The air is *rigid, and everyone’s stopped fighting. No one can draw their eyes away from the being. 

“You dare to summon me with one of my own?” The being speaks, and it’s like crackling glaciers. Someone whimpers. 

“We - wanted to give you a gift,” One of the men in black says, his voice chattering. 

It’s like breathing in ice. 

“A gift?” The being says and the sound is fury, banked in a waiting avalanche. “What kind of gift is this? A denizen of my Realms, trapped and tortured? Used to summon his king, against his will? This is no gift.” 

“B-but we didn’t know,” another speaks, and then obviously realizes he shouldn’t have. 

“Ignorance will not save you,” the being says, and it - he’s? - still holding Jason like he’s something precious. “And I am not the only one you have infuriated. 

“I am not the only one you have awoken.” 

To a man, the GIW agents cry out in panic. Bruce turns, looking for the threat but - the agents are buried to various depths in the cracked concrete floor. The ground is decidedly solid beneath Bruce’s feet but the agents would obviously not agree. They flounder, like the concrete is quicksand. The summoners are next, but it’s ice that gets them, crawling up their bodies until they’re locked into place. 

“My lord!” One cries and promptly finds himself gagged. 

Bruce can’t stay silent any longer. “Hood was used against his will to summon you,” he starts. The being’s eyes meet Bruce’s. “He didn’t want this. Is he alright?” 

“Your son is fine,” the voice is rough, but feminine, and obviously not from the being. It’s around him, dancing through the steel beams and pushing through concrete. “You are mine, my knight. You and yours are mine. The little king will not harm him, nor you.” A figure forms off to his right. 

“Holy shit,” Dick whispers. Bruce has to agree. 

She’s made of concrete, of broken brick and dust, of bone and police tape, of twisted metal and more. 

“Gotham,” Bruce breathes, and he doesn’t know how he knows but he does.

“Hello, my knight,” she says, her form shifting. She turns slightly, and there’s something sharp in her movement. “Hello, little king.” 

“Lady Gotham,” The being - the king? - returns. “You look well,” 

Lady Gotham laughs, a ringing sound - it’s bells and gravel, fresh air on a summer day and rising wind. “How you flatter me, little king. Do you fear me?” 

The being grins, mischief dancing around him, white hair floating high. “I respect you. It’s good to see you awake, Milady.”

“What is happening?” Tim asks no one in particular. Dick shrugs and Steph just leans harder on Tim. Cass holds Damian’s shoulder firmly, watching carefully. 

Bruce wishes he had an answer. 

“It is good to be awake,” Lady Gotham says, and she shifts closer to the circle, fingers skimming against the barrier of light. “How long do you intend to keep my reaper from me?” 

Reaper. Bruce thinks, and it’s a gut punch. 

It makes sense, to describe Jason. Jason can go where Bruce cannot, do what Bruce cannot. 

The king laughs lightly. “The summoning harmed him, Milady. I’m just keeping him safe. I’m not here to undermine you,” the king’s eyes glow. “But remember who is king.”

Lady Gotham smiles. “I’m aware of hierarchy little king.” 

“My son,” Bruce says, because there’s no point in pretending Jason is anything less. He’s talking to - the embodiment of gotham and a king of - something. “He’ll be okay?” 

Lady Gotham sighs. “He will be fine, my knight. The little king cares for his own.” 

“What - what are you the king of?” Tim asks, bold. 

The being smiles. 

“I am Phantom,” he says. “I am the Ghost King.” 

Jason stirs in his lap, and the implications crash over Bruce. Maybe Reaper has more meaning than he’d thought.

#DPxDC #Akela's Antics #Prompts #Ficlets #Crossover #DP x DC

[bomberqueen17]

sketchy grocery store shit: a very middle-aged rant

Man so. I went to college in Rochester and so I did my first I'm An Adult Shopping For My Own Groceries shopping in a Wegmans. I got used to the way the store works, how things were laid out. And of course, i got a Shopper's Club card.

I still have it somewhere, use it occasionally, but I had to get another one when I misplaced it because they asked what phone number it was tied to and like, man, it was a Rochester number with a 716 area code, that's how long ago it was. (It's 585 there now.)

I got conditioned to try the Wegmans brand generic for whatever brand name thing I was buying, because it was often the same, and was cheaper. (Though, RIP to the old Wegmans box mac n cheese, they enshittified that in 1999 once we were all good and hooked and we all mourned and switched to Annie's and never looked back. Maybe it's better now but I don't rely on that stuff the way I used to.) I got conditioned to always swipe the card because sure they were collecting data on you but in a $70 trip I'd save five bucks easy, it wasn't nothing! And I also learned to look for their Family Packs, which were larger containers of the same item for less per unit-- if it was something not that perishable, or something you could get through, it was worth spending a little more now to stretch it later!

Anyway. I went to Wegmans yesterday, I live in Buffalo now and we have them here too, and we have a rotation of grocery stores we patronize but when I do the shopping, I'm still the most used to Wegmans, I know where stuff is, and I knew some of the stuff I wanted, they'd be the ones to have. (The organic co-op doesn't carry Doritos and sometimes in the doldrums of winter a bitch needs some of that poison, y'know?)

I'd noticed before that the Shoppers Club isn't a savings thing anymore. I didn't have my own card for one visit and the cashier went to great lengths to get me a swipe from a manager, and at the end I'd spent $200 and saved.... fifty cents.

This time around I'd taken advantage of a buy one get one deal to get a second box of something I didn't really need a second box of, only to discover it was buy one get a dollar off the second, so I saved a whole dollar and actually spent three I hadn't needed to. Well, whatever. It's not perishable and I'll eventually go through it.

But the other thing I noticed was the wild price swings by different packaging of the same item. I should've taken pictures. But like-- ok, raw baby spinach. I fucking love spinach. They had a smaller bag and then next to it they had a Family Pack. I hesitated-- it is hard to use up leafy greens but I fucking love spinach and I could make the effort-- and then I looked. I can't do math but fortunately they are required by law to have the price per unit breakdown on every price sticker. Because the small bag of spinach was $1.99, and was $3.99/lb. (A pound of spinach is a lot.) The Family Pack next to it? It was $3.99, which seemed like a good price jump. But on the per-item breakdown, it came out to $7.99/lb. It didn't actually have any more spinach in it. It was just a different-shaped bag and cost more. For no reason. And there was a whole shelf of the larger bags, and only a small display of the smaller ones. They're just expecting people, conditioned like I am, to say "ah i can use more spinach i'll take the savings" and buy the more expensive bag. But I did just do the math (which is difficult for me so you know I'm mad about this) and that is literally the exact same amount of spinach for twice the price.

Similar for stew beef but they went too far with it, it wasn't even plausible. There was a large pack for forty-nine dollars and I didn't even look to see how much was in it because i do not have forty-nine dollars for stew beef, I found a one-pound bag for $8.99. But I had this same issue before, and was more persistent last time I went: you can buy a three-pound chuck roast for $7.99/lb, which is a chunk of change but it's a lot of meat, and cut it into stew beef yourself and save some money that way, but I just knew I did not have it in me this week to cut up yet another chuck roast when I got home. (Full disclosure: i wasn't even looking at the grass-fed organic shit this was just regular USDA whatever Meets Regulations And Is Legal To Sell shit.)

Stew beef is supposed to be the trimmings and it is supposed to be cheap. But they have realized people prefer it, more recipes call for it because it was historically cheaper, and so they have marked it up and it is more expensive than the whole roast. Because most cooks reading a recipe are not going to necessarily know why it calls for stew beef and that they could substitute a superior cut if the price wasn't good.

I am aware that buying the pre-marinated individual convenience cuts is historically where they make their profit and I don't begrudge them that; if that's what I was shopping for I would not be that mad about paying $7 for three cents worth of marinade ingredients, because it is much easier to cook something like that with the attached recipe and because a lot of the markup is the labor costs in putting all that shit together. I don't begrudge them that at all and when I'm paying for it I'm well aware that I am.

But I really do resent how much of the price-gouging is happening by abusing the patterns of behavior they conditioned us into. I learned, twenty years ago, to look for the deals and look for the bulk packs, and now I am being punished for having learned that. I don't mind paying a premium for something I know is a convenience fee, but being charged extra for my formerly-thrifty shopping habits really stings. I shouldn't have to exercise constant vigilance in the fucking grocery store, it's stressful enough to be the only masked person in there and now you have to compete with the huge carts they use for the online ordering peeps that take up a lot of the aisle.

Maybe it's easier to do the price comparisons on the website?

Oh and there are a number of products they now only carry the Wegmans generic for. (You can't get Snyder pretzel bites anymore, and the Wegmans version doesn't come in quite the same flavors, so I have to go to Dash's to get those now.) And still others where the Wegmans version is pricier. And, alas, some where the more expensive Wegmans version is better. (Polly-O string cheese, why are you so bland?? You're a snack baby. The Wegmans generic has salt in it and is a ton more pleasant to eat.)

IDK I don't have a thesis here it's just that being alive in the 2020s is way harder than being alive in the 2000s even though I was poorer then and didn't know shit. I don't miss my youth and I super don't miss George W Bush but I miss when I was figuring stuff out and it seemed to make sense. And I sorta miss when the Wegmans cashiers used to wear t-shirts bragging about how highly-ranked Wegmans was by whatever organization that was that ranked how good places are to work for.

Also, they try to steer you to use the self checkouts, but baby if you have more than two shopping bags' worth of stuff in your cart you had better wait in however long that line is to let a real human put it into bags for you because the self-checkout does not have any mechanism for you to remove and replace a full shopping bag from the bagging area. I told the cashier how much I appreciated him because he wasn't screaming at me, and he was like yah those self-checkouts yell at you a lot.

(Every Wegmans cashier for twenty years has been super nice. I doubt they're in a union, I wish they were.)

Yeah yeah this is the most middle-aged thing I've written yet but I'm in physical therapy and just bought a recliner for the ergonomics so I'm clearly grappling with my own mortality here, and I'm writing this partly out of concern for the kids who are where I was in 2000. What the hell are they being conditioned to do, by all this????? Shit, man.

#about the author #real life

[sketchyonlooker]

The Case of Akazawa Shiho (working title):

A maw filled with teeth larger than her snaps up a schoolgirl running beside her, her scream quickly silenced by the crunch of bone. Other creatures - familiar creatures she'd only seen in Duel Monsters - continue their slaughter within the Domino City Subway Station.

A young child screams for his mother as the raptors tore him limb from limb.

An old man is trampled over by the crowd - and then shredded apart by a worm-like creature with concentric teeth from below. Like watching a sink garbage disposal in action.

The brutal scenes multiplied as the monsters continued flooding in from the tunnels and entrance.

She's gonna die.

She's gonna die.

There's no way she's surviving this.

No matter how much she runs with the crowd. Sooner or later, safety in numbers was not going to be enough, not with everyone here betting on it.

Where can she run to? The subway tunnels - where there was already so much blood pooling it could fill a lake? The entrances - where the monsters are coming from? The trains - that proved effortless for the monsters to break into? Does it even matter now? She doesn't have the luxury of choi-

Something latches onto her wrist. And then she feels something catch across her ankle. The moment she realized she'd been tripped was the moment she fell face first onto the ground. As she looked up, she could see a middle-aged man in a suit running with the crowd but continued to face her with a grin-

!@#$

Before she could curse him out in her final moments.

riiing...

...That sound. Like a tuning fork.

She's heard it before.

A in C minor.

The man's triumphant gaze becomes confused and unfocused - as if he were staring through her - but then quickly shifts into panic. She doesn't see his fate as the monsters that were chasing the crowd suddenly leapt over he-

Craaccck.

-SHit.

Her foot. Just got stepped on by a two-headed dinosaur - Two-Headed King Rex, the Duel Monster - You fucker.

She's going to be a Rex anti-fan from now on.

...At least she still had enough of her mind to make shitty jokes, not that this was the appropriate occasion. Or maybe it was the perfect occasion now that she was so thoroughly fucked.

A likely broken foot she can't feel cause of the adrenaline. Surrounded by a hoard of man-eating monsters.

A lizard-like monster - Masked Chameleon - darts its tongue towards one of the runners in the crowd; its barbed tongue pierces through the man's leg - and retracts backwards with such force that it tears the leg off. The moment he stumbles down is the moment he is chomped apart by the chasing monsters.

The Masked Chameleon's eyes turns its beady eye towards her, and her breath catches her in throat as she forces herself to be very still.

It flicks its tongue slowly - was it like a snake? Did it sense body heat? It approaches slowly at its slow crawl, and she feels her heart thump harder and harder as it closes in.

But it then walks past her without fanfare. As soon as it was a good distance, she released her breath, the lightheadedness she'd been ignoring making her woozy.

How?

Why?

----

∞:

They didn't notice her. The monsters - the dragons - the lizards. They ignored her completely just like the dwindling people still alive ignored her.

Why? Among all of the people who died here, why was she still alive?

...She had a feeling she knew why.

That sound. A in C minor.

She's heard it before.

Back when Sketchy barged into that white-haired guy Bakura - she remembered his name from the Battle City Final's - and the creepy zombie-looking guy's duel. And of course, the horrible outcome of watching zombie-guy's flesh disintegrate into black goop in high-definition. Thanks for the nightmares, Sketchy. BEBD really should stop giving advi-

"Woof!"

Her head turned towards the broken escalator, only to find a dog. Its matted long fur was so dirtied that she couldn't see what breed it was, but it was a small dog. A dog that none of the monsters seem to have noticed despite its hyperactive hopping.

"Woof!"

And it was walking towards her when nothing else here could see her. It probably should've raised more alarm bells, but at this point, as long as it wasn't scaly, she was willing to trust it.

The smelly dog sniffed at her carefully.

"Woof!"

It then tugged on her sleeve.

"...Do you want me to follow you?" She wasn't scared of talking. Not after accidentally screaming in front of a Raptor that lunged a little too close trying to eat the man that ran close to her.

"Arf!"

She doesn't hesitate as the dog begins running towards the broken escalator. Pain sears through her foot as she limps her way forward. She knows she can't stay here anyway. Whatever providence is happening right now might not last.

Her hands briefly pat against her trusty blue mage's hat. It fills her with a bit of comfort and courage.

She has to get somewhere safe.

If that meant taking a chance by following a dog that seemed to know what it's doing, well, it's not like she hasn't been cheating death all this time.

#link to rayne's bonz vs bakura aaa // #post not visible ic #arc: what the doma?! #the case of akazawa shiho

[eunchancorner]

Just the bois seeing Eduardo being angsty, no big deal (not the angst I promised yesterday lol)

Warning: mentions of character death, depression, and a lottttttttt of angst

Word count: 1756

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“Edd, what are we doing in the cemetery?” Tom questioned his friend, gripping his coat tightly as the wind started picking up.

“Looking for ghosts, of course!” the taller replied enthusiastically, holding some device he’d ordered off of some sketchy website, with blinking lights and fancy dials that Tom doubted worked for actually detecting ghosts and more for wasting all of their batteries with how fast it went through them.

“I don’t mean to be the party pooper here, but, why, exactly are we doing this?” Matt chimed in.

“That’s what I want to know…” Tom mumbled.

“So we can learn! That’s- that’s a reason people go ghost hunting, yeah..”

Tom sighed as he pulled a flask out of his pocket, chugging some of whatever alcohol he’d brought with him. “Learning? About what?”

“About the past! What is was like to live back then!” Edd seemed to be falling into a daydream about learning about 1860 or something, so Tom decided to snap him out of it.

“And if we find someone around our age who died recently? That’s about half of these graves, you know, since there have been dozens of casualties around here.”

“Then we’ll ask them how they died and move on!”

“And what’s your plan for when this inevitably kills us?”

“Uhh, come back and try again. Sometimes I worry about you Tom, you seem to keep forgetting we can just do that.”

“I’m just making sure, here.”

“Hey guys, what’s that?” Matt suddenly chimed into their conversation, pointing at a bright blue cluster in the distance.

“Ohhh, I bet it’s something ghostly! Come on, let’s go see!” Edd chirped as he darted over, followed closely by his two friends. As they approached, they saw that it was just another grave, but surrounded by beautiful light blue flowers. They all circled it, looking for anything else that might indicate paranormal activity, but they came up empty handed. Edd even tried using his device. Nothing (as expected).

“Nothing, dammit…” Edd muttered as he shut the device off, before reading the name on the grave. “Uhh, did either of you know a Laurel?”

“Not really,” Matt said without hesitation.

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Tom said after a bit of thought.

“What the hell are you three doing here?” a voice sounded behind them, all of them looking back to see who had spoken.

“Eduardooooooo…” Edd drawled on instinct, seeing his rival’s face. Although, there was something different today. The air of superiority he usually had about him, it was gone. He looked more annoyed with them than like he meant to bully them.

“We’re here on a very important mission to find ghosts, so, shoo! Off with you!” Matt insisted, waving his hands in a ushering gesture at him.

“I’m not leaving. I’m here to see my girlfriend, which I’d argue is more important,” Eduardo refuted.

“What kind of date takes place in the middle of a cemetery, is she hardcore goth or something?” Tom asked, an eyebrow raised.

“She’s not alive, dumbass,” the angry brunette responded.

“Whatever. We’re busy investigating this grave and why all these flowers are here. I think it might be paranormal activity!” Edd insisted, but his rival refused to budge.

“That’s my girlfriend’s grave. I planted those flowers. Now fucking move,” he ordered, and, this time, the three backed off, watching as the man knelt down to the grave and gently pulled out a blue flower, just like the ones surrounding the grave, and a similarly shaped green one, placing them on the grave.

“Hey, Laurel…” he began to mumble, as though he could speak to her. “These guys giving you trouble again?... I’d tell them off if I could, but I know you wouldn’t like that… I miss you… so does Mark… and, well… you probably know about what happened to Jon… I think it’s why I fell back into it… you know how it is… Mark’s getting me to eat and leave the house again, so that’s a start… and…” his breath began to shudder. He looked back at his three witnesses, tears freshly ready to fall. “You should go… I don’t want anyone… especially you… seeing me like this.”

Edd couldn’t help but remember the time Eduardo had saved him from the huge monster, when they had powers, and felt the need to stay and help him, even if only to repay that debt.

Matt also felt like they should stay. Eduardo was clearly in pain, clearly hurting. He wanted to help, even if he did kind of hate him. He hated Mark more, anyways.

Tom acted like he literally could not care less. “Fine by me,” he said as he started to walk off, Edd and Matt slowly following, looking back at the man who was about to collapse into a full-on mental breakdown. But, before they left earshot, Tom pulled them behind a tree and motioned for them to stay quiet, before peeking out. Confused, the two peeked as well.

Tom had been secretly thinking, Maybe I could catch him doing something fucked up, maybe even ruin his political career if he ever decides to have one. So, yes, his intentions were entirely malicious.

As soon as he thought they were gone, Eduardo collapsed completely onto his knees, sobs wracking his frame, tears flowing freely and falling onto the grave below. He let out a few mumbles that were inaudible to the three before, finally, his voice started to pick up volume.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I should have protected you… it was all their fault… all his fault… it’s his fault you and Jon are gone… his fault that I only have Mark left… it’s all his fault…” he reached out and gently brushed the dust away from her name with his thumb. “I’ll see you both again… one day…”

Edd, Matt, and, yes, even Tom, thought they were going to cry. Suddenly, her name clicked in their minds. When they had made their flop of a movie, Space Cats, the actress they had hired, who was so excited and enthusiastic to work with them, who was killed by shoe before they got to watch the film for the first time, was named Laurel. They remembered Mark showing up to their door asking for a copy of the movie (to which they shoved the original in his hands and sent him on his way). They realized it was probably because Eduardo couldn’t bring himself to do it. He blamed them for her death. He blamed Edd.

Shock overtook them, however, as the real weight of Eduardo’s words sank in.

It’s his fault you and Jon are gone… his fault that I only have Mark left…

He not only blamed Edd for Laurel’s death, and apparently Jon’s, but for his lack of friends. And the sad part was, it made complete sense. Edd was responsible for getting Eduardo bullied, possibly all throughout school. Edd and his friends had made a movie that resulted in Laurel’s death. Edd had let a murderous psycho into the house who killed Jon.

It really was all Edd’s fault.

“Oh my god, I’m a terrible person…” Edd mumbled finally, watching his poor rival slowly calm down from his sobbing as a purple car pulled into the nearby parking lot, a blonde getting out of the driver’s side. As he approached, they all saw it was Mark, who started fussing over Eduardo the moment he was close enough.

“Eduardo, there you are! Your car’s still at home, did you walk here? You must be freezing! And you’ve been crying, no, my friend… I brought your jacket and some heat packs. I have some hot cocoa in the center console for you and the heat and seat warmers are on, please, get your coat on and go get in the car. I have to say some things to her, too, and I’m sure she doesn’t want you joining her early because you decided to go out on a cold autumn night without anything to stay warm!” he bustled around him with small packets and a large black coat like most of them had, wiping the tears away from Eduardo’s face (with much resistance on the smaller man’s behalf) with a little pack of tissues. 

As Eduardo walked away, Mark turned back to the grave. He didn’t say anything, providing ample opportunity for the boys to walk up to him, to try to talk with him.

“Hey, Mark,” Edd started, noticing how Mark’s soft stare hardened into a glare as he saw them, as was expected.

“You. What are you doing here?” he demanded immediately, turning to face them with his arms crossed.

“We were looking for ghosts and… saw Eduardo crying over Laurel. He said something about you being the only one he had left, and well…” Edd glanced back at his friends before continuing, “We’re just hoping you’re taking good care of him. After all, who’s Power Edd without his Numero Uno, his rival, y’know…? Point is, we just hope you’re taking good care of him. I know we’re just as guilty of being jerks, and that it’s… kind of our fault-” “Edd…”

“Ok, ok… My fault that what happened… happened.”

Mark’s gaze softened at the three before him. So they finally started caring, huh?

“I am, I promise, and I’m sure Eduardo would be glad to hear his rival cares so much about him,” Mark told them.

“Oh, no, we can’t let him know we saw that… please?” Edd asked so politely, and dammit, how could Mark say no?

“Ah, alright. This’ll be our little secret, then. But, if you really do care that much, feel free to invite me over for tea. But I’d advise not coming to my house for it, considering who exactly would be there.”

“We understand. Thank you,” Edd smiled a bit, Mark nodding as returned to his car. Edd turned to the other two.

“He’s actually really nice. For a cocky jerk,” Matt finally said, turning to Tom to see how he’d respond.

“Let’s go home. I feel like discovering our neighbor has depression and the other has turned into his dad is enough for one night,” was the shortest’s words, and, for once, the taller two agreed, all three of them walking back to the car.

“You know, we never did find any ghosts,” Edd mumbled quietly, turning on his little device, a few moments before it promptly died in his hands.

They were not replacing the batteries on it again.

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How did this little one-off thing get so long holy hell-

#eun writes #eddsworld #ew #eddsworld matt #ew matt #eddsworld edd #ew edd #eddsworld tom #ew tom #eddsworld eduardo #ew eduardo #eddsworld mark #ew mark #eddsworld angst #ew angst #eddsworld jon #ew jon #eddsworld laurel #ew laurel

[topazadine]

Gas Station Rankings

This is not an exhaustive list (unfortunately) because frankly I haven't visited every single gas station company in America. I know it will sadden people not to see Buc-ee's represented but I can't describe something I haven't experienced yet

Sheetz

Blessed Sheetz. Food is delicious, stores are always incredibly clean, always have a bunch of weird shit I don't need

Love's

Hands down the best truck stop for a very important reason: most of the locations have a dog park :) but they also have incredibly clean bathrooms and their packaged food options are great

All-Time

Met this strange man who promised me eternal youth, and when I said no, the store radio started to play "How to Save a Life" by The Fray, which was interesting. Also had really fresh pineapple fruit cups. That was years and years ago, so maybe it's changed, though?

Pilot

Not quite as good as Love's, but I have never had a poor experience here. It's just meh, though not meh enough that I don't remember visiting

QuickRide

Not bad, per se, but there was an odd animal lurking around behind the back of the store, and when I looked directly at it, I got this horrible headache before it suddenly bolted off on two legs laughing just like my PE teacher from fifth grade

Casey's

Casey's is only this high up on the list because I grew up in middle-of-nowhere Illinois so I have fond memories of here. Also their pizza is really good and simply cannot be replicated anywhere else

True North

Always only has one cashier working, and for some reason, every single location has the exact same guy working and he always greets by name and asks if I've found what I'm looking for yet. Rather ominous

7/11

Not every single one is a gas station of course, but those that are ... okay I guess

BP

Forgettable, can't ever remember going in and having any sort of experience

Vilago

Very forgettable, every time I go in I fill my tank up, then go inside to get a snack or whatever, but as soon as I pay I find myself back on the highway and don't remember even getting back in my car, and there's a strange scent in the car like burnt cinnamon that takes AGES to dissipate

Travelcenters of America

Some of them are a little sketchy and dingy, but it's not terrible, I have seen worse

Citgo

Huge differences in quality amongst different Citgos, like some do not have bathrooms and some just have packaged food and nothing else

Maverik

CREEPY! Every location I have been to has been CREEPY! Also they don't have bathrooms a lot of the time which is so annoying

Ridealong

I could have gone forever about different gas stations and their bathrooms and so on, but now that I'm thinking about Ridealong, it's all I can think about. That one experience.

I should have kept driving. I knew there was a Love's at the next exit but I really needed to go to the bathroom, and I'd also just gotten a text that I wanted to check (no texting and driving ever), so I decided to risk it.

The exterior was ... strange. It looked like it had been scavenged from a bunch of other gas stations, like the gas station overhang thing was clearly from Mobile, but a few of the pumps looked to be from a BP, though the yellow icon had been scratched off. Still kept the green sheathing though. All lit up in the middle of the night, it looked even stranger, all these discordant colors mixing into one another like a giant warning sign. If only I had listened.

The gas smelled off. I know, gas generally smells pretty bad, but it smelled ... sweet. Sickly sweet. I have no idea what leaded gasoline smelled like (am not that old) but I can't imagine it would smell like death. Yes of course gasoline is made from dead dinosaurs but this smelled like fresh death. Cloying and stinging. I had to cover my nose.

Really, this should have been a sign, but the gas was still pumping and I don't know how to shut it off, so I stood there, miserable, not wanting to get back in my car for fear of sparking - especially when the gas smelled like that.

No trash at all. Immaculate. The paving, too, was far too new, as if it had been laid yesterday. No potholes, not even a splash of gas or coolant on the ground. Though the gas pumps were clearly old and scavenged, they looked too fresh, like they'd just come from the factory. Different factories, of course, but all the same date.

I leaned in and tried to see if there was that usual sticker you see on all the gas pumps that said they were checked by some official or whatever, but I couldn't read the language. Not that it wasn't English, I just couldn't read it - like it just morphed in front of my eyes every time I tried to understand it. Maybe I really was just overtired.

Of course the sunk cost fallacy. I was already at the gas station, I might as well go in and get my potty break done because I felt like I was absolutely bursting. I'd been driving for quite a few hours and had been living off Red Bull. I couldn't even remember what state I was in, only that I was still somewhere in the Appalachians, nestled in a valley with the mountains penning us in on all sides. The air beyond the dead gas smelled cold and fresh and menacing, the pine trees indifferent to my presence, to my fears. I heard no animals, and there were no leaves on the ground.

I checked my texts but my phone was off, and I didn't remember turning it off. After all, I'd been using it for navigation the whole time, plugged into my adapter, and it should have been at 100%. I turned it back on and tried to check my texts, but was immediately hit with that obnoxious Amber Alert buzz we all hate. When I looked at the Alert, it said it was for Ohio, which I supposed made sense - it's all Ohio, right? Haha. Maybe I was just picking up what I should be getting at home.

But then I looked at it and recognized my license plate. IUY-7823. 2021 Green Honda Civic Type R. What the fuck? I certainly hadn't abducted any children - I don't even like them.

I kept reading, fingers shaking, as it described the victim. "7 year old white female, blonde hair, 3ft tall, 39 pounds."

Well, I sure as hell wasn't a 7 year old child, given that I was driving a motor vehicle. Nor had I kidnapped any kid that looked just like me when I was 7. Nor had I wanted to remember that one time with a gas station and a strange man smoking a cigarette, who told me I'd lost something and he'd help me find it. I'd run away back to my mom right away - at least I think that's what I did - now everything from that time seemed so strange and dizzy-making. I felt a little sick. I needed the bathroom really badly.

Shaking and putting my phone back into my purse, I stumbled into the door and yanked it open. It beeped, like most gas station doors do, and I didn't even notice anything as I glanced frantically for the bathroom sign. There was one, but it only showed one sign: for men. I'm not a man, but I'm a girl who really needs to pee, so I just prayed it was single stall and booked it there.

The floor felt sticky. The whole store smelled sickly. That scent of death, like a deer left to rot in a field that throws up its perfume from beyond the veil to remind us what comes for us all in the end. I thought of flies. There was an odd buzzing in my ears, deep down in them, a tinnitus I'd never had before. I prayed that some stupid song would come on the radio and drown it out, but everything was buzzing. Buzzing lights, buzzing refrigerators, buzzing flies coming for me and all that I loved.

I ran to the bathroom, but of course it was locked. Not even caring about propriety, I banged on the door and begged for whoever was in there to hurry the hell up. There was no one else there: it seemed like no one else had been there forever, though the store was perfectly clean. It was just a feeling of emptiness. The store had been there forever, in exactly the same position, with exactly the same gas, since it was copy-pasted from whatever hellish universe had spit it up.

The cashier counter was empty. Everything was empty. I couldn't prove it, but I sensed that all those containers in the aisles, all those drinks in the refigerator, had never been filled in the first place. A trap to entice tired travelers who need food and a bathroom and some sign that there is something beyond the highway hypnosis, beyond the empty roads long since drained of people this late in the night.

Finally the bathroom door opened, so slowly. The lights were off inside, and I stepped aside to let whoever was in there out, doing a potty dance like you do when you really have to go. I felt like I'd die if I didn't go within seconds.

Then the light flicked on. I remembered that face. I knew that man. That was the man from every single True North I'd ever seen. A forgettable face unless you see it dozens of times over your life, from age 7 and on, every few weeks or months or years, never changing, never growing, never doing anything but staring at you and asking if you've found what you're looking for. I can't even describe it now. Salt-and-pepper hair, brown eyes, too-large lips, and that's it. That's all I know.

He stared at me for a moment, then smiled. His teeth were off: too white for his face. Too even. Too many of them.

"Ya find what you looking for?"

Suddenly I did not need the bathroom anymore. I felt it gushing down my leggings, a long spigot of utter terror and disorientation. I stood there, drenched in my own piss, looking at him. I wasn't 7 years old anymore, and apparently he had enough manners not to smoke inside the store. But my mom wasn't here to help me. No one could save me from this man, who would certainly finish whatever he'd tried to do all those years ago.

I slipped on my own pee as I ran, but thankfully braced myself with one of the empty-packaged store displays, which went crashing down. Bright yellow bags of air burst to show no potato chips, and a box of what was meant to be Cheezits collapsed when its glue finally came free.

A trap. A trap. True North pointed to this man, this man who wanted to take me on the last Ridealong of my life.

He didn't try to grab me or anything; perhaps he knew it hadn't worked this time. Instead, he grabbed a mop and chuckled.

"Cleanup in Aisle 6."

I started laughing as I fled, that hysterical laughter you get when everything has come crashing down and you find out your whole life has been orchestrated by forces beyond your control. I slammed the door open and ran to my car, the only one resting on the perfect pavement that looked too fresh to ever be laid down. I'd locked my car, so I tried to get to my keys, but dropped my purse on the ground and shortly followed it, scrabbling and crying in my piss-drenched leggings and smeared makeup.

There were all these candy wrappers in my purse that I didn't remember putting there - I'm not really a sweets person anymore. My mom stopped buying it when I was a kid, so I grew out of it.

Finally my keys. I clicked the door open, slammed it shut, pressed the lock button six or eight times, and turned it out. I didn't even bother to check my text message that I'd wanted to see in the first place: I just floored it into reverse and then drive and got back to the highway and kept driving.

My car smelled like burnt cinnamon, so I rolled all the windows down and let it out, but it's never really gone away. I still smell it sometimes when I step into my car for a grocery trip or whatever, but Febreeze really helps.

The Amber Alerts kept coming for a good hour or so, that horrible screech over and over again. I turned on the radio to drown them out because I just wanted to forget.

When I got to the border of Ohio, they stopped abruptly, right in the middle of a buzz. Every since then, I don't get them anymore, even when everyone else does.

This store, this Ridealong, was just so wrong. And what the hell is up with that name? Who is that man? Is he a kidnapping time traveler? Am I really a woman, or am I still a little girl trapped somewhere in a gas station, eating candy to survive? I don't know what anything is anymore. I had to take a week off work, doors locked, phone off, not talking to anyone, drowning myself in booze.

It's been years now, but I still map out my trips so I avoid anywhere that may have been anywhere near that place. I've never seen another of them, though.

Anyway, 0/10 do not recommend.

#writing #horror #psychological horror #no sleep #fiction

[chibifox2002]

So I had a creepy encounter today

He asked my friend for her name and everything She gave him a fake one, and when we left she kept the keys in between her knuckles. We're both okay.

#wtf is wrong with some people #and of course it was a sketchy looking middle-aged man #my videos #venting stuff

[watchmegetobsessed]

Dead Or Alive - Harry Styles

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

pairing: Wanted!Harry x BountyHunter!Reader

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

word count: 15.2k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just got Dennis Delgado, Jeremy took him.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Not yet. Got something exciting for me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“From what?!”

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

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

“What are you doin—“

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

“Wait, my car is there!”

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

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

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

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

“No shit, you killed someone?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t hide here forever.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about you?”

“Would he look for you at mine?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure we’ll find something.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? Did he hurt you or something?”

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

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

“Harry didn’t do it. He was framed.”

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

“How… do you know that?”

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

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

“Does it matter?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You ordered food?” you ask in surprise.

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

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

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

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

“But did you have any other plans before?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, but yours just tastes better.”

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

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

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

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

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then how did you mean it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For real?”

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

“Come on, everyone knew who you were!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh wow. You really shouldn’t have.”

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

“That was just a joke.”

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

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

“No worries.”

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

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

“What, I can’t be nice?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not,” you answer right away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So what can be done now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you need that for?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t wear that, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Okay. Are you nervous?”

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

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

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

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

“Really?” you ask quietly.

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

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

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

“Harry?” you breathe out at last.

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm, yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m a killer, babygirl.”

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

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

“Oh my, sounds like a dirty job.”

“It was.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, no!” you choke out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, what is it?”

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

“Oh. Yeah, sounds logical,” you nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You were?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you been to Ireland, Love?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #dead or alive

[winchesterfanatic1967]

Picking Up The Pieces Part 1

Pairings: Dean AU x Reader

Word Count: 3,654 

Warnings- Hard times

You clutched your jacket around yourself a little bit tighter. It was the beginning of November and the weather was starting to get really cold in Lawrence Kansas. You were currently standing in line for a bed at the shelter. It was really long so there was a slim chance that you were going to get a slot tonight. Sure enough, after about 10 more people the man at the door said that was it for the night. You sighed and slowly turned walking to Donna’s Place. 

The diner didn’t have that many people in it, just a young teenage couple and an old guy at the counter sipping on his beer. You sat at the counter and the waitress approached you for something to drink, which you shook your head no. 

“I’m sorry, you have to order something to keep your seat.” She said with sympathy in her eyes. 

“I understand. I’ll just have some water please.” You say quietly. 

“Coming right up honey.”

While you waited for your water, you counted the few bills you had in your small wallet. You only had 23$ to your name. You’ve been in this predicament for quite some time now. When you turned eighteen your parents kicked you out because you didn’t want to be a doctor. Your family was all doctors and nurses, and they looked down on other people who didn’t have the same career. 

That was three years ago, and you were now 21. You had a job at Burger King for a while, but the bills were piling up and you didn’t have enough money for rent so the landlord kicked you out. All of your family disowned you, and you had nobody else. You slept at the shelter when you could, but most of the time it was packed with people. 

When you were able to stay you took your showers. Most of the time you took clothes out of the donation bins, and only bought granola bars or fruit so you wouldn’t run out of money. The money was getting low now, and you didn’t know what to do. You’ve been searching for jobs all over the place but nobody hired you. 

You sipped slowly on your water, and stared at your hands. You ran your fingers through your hair and cursed to yourself at how greasy it was becoming. This was the second night in a row you haven’t been able to grab a bed so you haven’t showered. 

You were aware that you probably smelt bad, and you sunk your head down, avoiding the stares of the two teenagers. The employees were staring at you like you were some kind of animal, and it was making you uncomfortable. The bell on the door indicated someone else was walking in. 

You turned to look, and it was four guys. They were attractive, and you quickly looked away. You felt disgusting, and went into the ladies room. You wiped cold water on your face and looked at your reflection ashamed. Your hair was definitely greasy, and you had dark bags underneath your eyes from lack of sleep. 

Your clothes looked wrinkly, and you tried to make yourself look a little bit presentable as you made your way back to your seat. The four guys were sitting in the booth closest to the counter, and you kept your head down trying to avoid eye contact. These four attractive guys didn’t need to see how ugly you were. You were hoping that they couldn’t smell you. 

You felt someone looking at you, and you shyly looked up to see the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. He had the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen. He had light brown hair and a small amount of stubble. He was looking at you, and he gave you a small smile. You returned it, your cheeks flushed and looked away quickly. 

You kept glancing over at him, and everytime you did he was looking at you. You couldn’t help but think he and his friends were making fun of you, and you tried to make yourself small. 

“I’m sorry guys, we’re closing up soon.”

“No problem sweetheart, we’ll be out soon.” The green eyed man said. 

“Okay.” You whispered quietly and she looked at you in sympathy again. 

“Is there someone I can call for you? Somewhere that you can go?”

You shook your head no, and slowly got up out of your chair. You wrapped your jacket tighter around yourself as you walked out of the diner, but before the door closed you noticed him looking at you again. 

You weren’t sure how long you were walking, but the low rumble sound of a car pulling up next to you broke your train of thought. You looked over to see a beautiful black car and sure enough the same man from the diner looking at you. 

“Hey sweetheart. Do you need a ride somewhere?” He asked kindly and you shook your head no. 

“No thank you, I’ll be home in five minutes.” You lie. 

“Let me take you home, you’ll be there in 1 minute instead of five.” He shrugged and you shook your head again. 

“That’s okay, but thank you so much.”

“I insist. My mother would slap me upside the head if she found out I let a beautiful young girl walk home at night. It’s dangerous out here sweetheart.”

He wasn’t letting up, and you sighed quietly before opening the passenger door, and sliding in quietly. He began to drive and asked where to go. You told him a random turn and luckily there was a motel there.

“Right there. Motel 99.” You say quietly. 

“Okay.” 

You looked in your wallet, and pulled out 5 dollars and tried to hand it to him. “This is for you.” But he shook his head rapidly. 

“No no no. I don’t think so.” He said gently and pushed the money towards you kindly. 

“Please take it. I insist.” You say quietly. 

“No. It’s no problem at all. I’m just glad I got you home safe and sound. My pleasure.” He said sweetly and you gave him a small smile. 

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” You reply kindly. 

“You’re welcome. Have a goodnight.” 

You walked into the motel, and there was a sketchy guy sitting at the front desk. “Hello miss thing. What can I do for you?”

“How much is it a night?” You ask. 

“100 bucks.” You winced and looked to the ground. 

“Thanks anyways.” You whisper and begin to walk outside. 

“I can knock it down to fifty if you repay me in favors.” He said cheekily and your face scrunched up in disgust. “No thanks.” You say in annoyance and continue your way outside. 

You walked along the dirt path, and you couldn’t help but let a tear slide down your cheek. You haven’t cried that much over your situation. You didn’t cry when your parents kicked you out and shunned you, you didn’t cry when your landlord kicked you out, you didn’t cry when you lost your job. 

But if you were being honest this entire thing was beginning to take a toll on you. It was cold outside now, and the money was beginning to run out. Nobody was hiring, and you cursed to yourself about not applying to Donna’s Place earlier. 

You were starving, and you desperately needed a shower. You were going to make it your mission to get a spot tomorrow night at the shelter. You arrived at a park, and took a seat on the bench. You were shivering, and you tugged your jacket close to your body. 

You tried to make yourself comfortable and laid down shutting your eyes. Sleep was failing you, and you sighed softly before sitting up again. You decided to head back to the shelter. They were most likely going to say no, but you had to try to get a proper bed tonight. 

You knocked softly on the door, and after a couple of minutes a man opened it up. “Can I help you?”

“H-Hi, I was wondering if you had any beds left.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we do tonight honey.”

“O-Okay, I understand.” You say with tears welling in your eyes. You began to walk away when he stopped you. 

“I can tell you’re going through a really rough time. Listen, go to Harvelle’s Roadhouse. My wife and I co own it, and she’s got a couple of beds in the back. I’ll call her and let her know you’re coming. We’ve got a bed, a shower and she can make you something to eat.” 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. It’s about a 10 minute walk, would you like me to drive you?”

“No, I got this. Thank you for everything.” You say quietly before walking in the direction he pointed you to. 

Harvelle’s Roadhouse was in bold letters on the front of the building. You sighed before knocking on the front door softly. A middle aged woman opened it up. “Can I help you sweetie?”

“Hi. Your husband told you I was coming here?”

“Yes. Of course, come on in.” 

You stepped inside, and she led you to the back. There was a small bedroom connected with a bathroom. 

“There’s shampoo and conditioner for guests in the shower already, and there’s a sealed toothbrush with some toothpaste in the vanity. I can lend you some of my daughters clothes and wash the ones you have on now if you would like.” She said and you nodded your head gratefully.

“Are you hungry? I can whip something up for you.” 

“Please.” You whispered.

“What can I make you?”

“Anything.” You whispered and she looked at you with sympathy. 

“Coming right up honey.”

You stood in the shower for a really long time, and you felt so much better when you got out. Your hair felt fresh, and you were able to shave parts of you that you haven’t been able to attend to in a while. 

You dried yourself off, and slid the sweatpants and tank top over your body. You were grateful to everyone who’s been nice to you tonight. Nobody has been this nice to you in such a long time. 

She entered the room with a bowl of soup and some crackers. “I figured you should take it easy on your stomach, it’s been a while since you’ve had a proper meal huh?” She asked and you looked away shameful. 

“Hey..my name is Ellen by the way. What’s yours?”

“Y/n.” 

“Beautiful name. Is there anyone I can call for you? Parents?” 

You shook your head no, and she looked at you with sympathy. 

“Well, I’ll let you eat your food, and then you need to get some rest.” She said gently and you nodded gratefully. 

“Thank you ma’am.” You say quietly and she smiled at you. 

“Call me Ellen, and you’re welcome sweetie. Sweet dreams.” She says as she leaves the room. 

You ate like you’ve never eaten before, and you were out like a light within minutes. You woke up the next morning and your eyes widened at the time. 5:00 in the afternoon!? 

Ellen folded your clean clothes on the bottom of the bed, and you quickly dressed yourself. You were about to run out the front door before she stopped you. 

“Hey, where are you going sweetie?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep all night and all afternoon here. Thank you so much for everything you and your husband did for me. I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

“Wait wait wait, y/n you can stay, let me help you get back on your feet,-”

You cut her off but shaking your head. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. But thank you so much again.” 

Before she opened her mouth, you were out the door. You appreciated everything she did, but you felt like you overstayed your welcome. You decided you were going to apply to Donna’s Place as a waitress. You would sleep at the shelter at night, and you would save up until you could afford an apartment. 

The bell rang as you entered the diner, and it had a little more people than it did the night before. You looked to your left and the same four guys were sitting in the same spot. The green eyed man smiled widely, and you gave him a shy one back. 

“Hey sweetheart! C’mere!” He said and you felt your cheeks burn. 

You approached them slowly, and smiled shyly at the other three attractive men and they returned it with grins. 

“This is Benny, Cas, and this is my brother Sam. Guys, this is...I’m sorry I don’t think I caught your name.” He says sheepishly. 

“Y/n.” 

“The beautiful mystery girl you drove home last night?” Cas teased and you smiled softly and your cheeks turned pink. You were shocked to see that the tips of his ears turned pink. 

“Yes. This is her. I’m Dean. I’m sorry I didn’t formally introduce myself last night.” He said again and you shook your head.

“That’s okay.”

“Why don’t you have a seat with us?” He asked but you shook your head.

“Thank you, but I’m actually here to apply for a job.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” He said a little disappointed. 

“Hey, my wife said you took off this morning. You know you could’ve stayed as long as you needed to.” A voice said next to you and you looked up to see Bill staring at you. 

“U-Um yeah, I told her thanks but I’ll be okay.” You say quickly hoping he would change the subject. 

“If you want a spot tonight, I can arrange that for you.” He says kindly and you give him a small smile.

“I would appreciate that, thank you.”

He just nodded and walked away and you slowly turned to look at the four men with confused looks on their faces. 

“Y/n..Bill runs the homeless shelter.” Dean says and you could feel your face burn with embarrassment. “I thought I brought you home last night?”

“Well, not exactly.” You said hoping that the ground swallowed you up. “L-Look, I don’t want to talk about this. Enjoy your dinner. And thank you again for last night.” You say kindly and turn around walking to the counter. 

As you were filling out an application you felt a warm hand place itself on the small of your back. You looked up into Dean’s green eyes and he was looking at you filled with sympathy. 

“Listen, I know you don’t know me that well. Not at all actually. But I do know that you’re clearly going through a rough time, and if you ever need someone to vent to I’m here for you.” He says sweetly and you smile at him. 

“Thank you.”

 “They’re always hiring here. You should definitely get the job.”

“I hope so.” You say quietly. 

“So I really don’t mean to pry, but you don’t live at the motel?” He asks and you shook your head. 

“No. I’m sorry I lied to you. I was embarrassed.” You say. 

“Don’t be. I promise I’m not judging you.”

“I don’t have a home. I stay at Bill’s shelter whenever there is a free bed. The past two nights in a row I wasn’t able to get a bed and last night I felt at my lowest point and I was desperate. I stayed at Harvelle’s Roadhouse and Ellen was very nice to me. She offered me to stay there but I’m just trying to get a job so I can get back on my feet and find myself an apartment.”

“It’s okay to ask for help every once in a while you know.” He said quietly. 

“I know. But I’ve been on my own since I’ve been eighteen. I can handle it.”

“Listen, I know you don’t know me at all, and I know this sounds absolutely crazy..but stay with me.”

“What? No.” You say quickly. 

“It’s okay to ask for help y/n. You’re going through a hard time and I want to help you. Let me be your friend. Let me help you get back on your feet.”

“Dean..even if I said yes I don’t have a job. I can’t help you with rent. I can’t help with groceries.” 

“And that’s completely okay.”

“No, I can’t agree to that Dean.”

“Listen. If you get hired here, then stay with me. Save up a little bit, and if it means that much to you we can split everything. Okay?”

“Okay.” You say softly. 

The owner Donna was thrilled when you applied and your availability was anytime everyday. There was only her with three other waitresses. Claire, Alex, and Kaia. She said you could start right away, and all the tips you got were yours. Your first shift began at 10:00 tomorrow morning. 

You were embarrassed that you didn’t have anything to bring with you to Dean’s house. Just the clothes on your back. He could tell that you were ashamed, but he didn’t push you to talk. 

“Listen y/n..if you want I can bring you to the mall. Pick out whatever you want.” You shook your head. 

“I can’t do that Dean.”

“I insist sweetheart. Please.” 

“Alright…” You sigh and he gives you a small smile. 

“And then we can pick up bathroom stuff for you. I’m sure you don’t want to use my axe shampoo and cologne smelling deodorant and body wash.” He chuckled and you giggled quietly. 

“Okay Dean. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.”

At the end of it all, you felt terrible for how much Dean was spending on you. He bought you all the bathroom products you needed, along with a bunch of clothes. He even bought you makeup. 

He pulled into his small house, and you helped him carry everything inside. You placed everything on the kitchen counter and you looked up at him with tears welling in your eyes. 

“Thank you Dean.”

“Hey...stop it. Don’t you do that to me.” He said as he pulled you gently into his arms and you buried your face into his chest. It’s been a long time since somebody hugged you, let alone be this nice to you. 

He was rubbing his hand up and down your back. “Listen, I’m always here for you. I want to get to know you. You’ve been through tons of crap and I can’t even imagine. You deserve better than what the world has done to you. Let me be there for you. Let me take care of you. You deserve to be happy.”

“I’m crap Dean. You don’t know me. When you find out how shitty I am you’ll kick me out.” You sniffled.

“I highly doubt that, and you’re not crap. You need help, and there’s nothing wrong with receiving it. Now, I’m going to give you a tour, show you where the guest room is that’s now yours, and then you’re going to take a nice long hot shower, and I’m going to order us a pizza. You like pizza right?” You nodded against his shoulder. 

“Good. Now let me show you around.” 

He showed you around his small house, and for a guy it was neat and clean. Your room was really nice, and the walls were a nice beige color with a queen size bed in the middle. 

You gathered up all your bathroom stuff along with your pajamas and shut the bathroom door. You showered, thinking to yourself that you’ve never met anyone as nice as Dean. When you finished you went out into the living room. Dean was handing the pizza guy money, and he turned around and smiled when he looked at you. 

“Hey sweetheart. Do you feel better?”

“Yeah, much better.”

“Good. Want to watch tv?”

“Yeah sure.”

“Okay, make yourself comfortable on the couch and I’ll be right out.”

“Okay De.” You say softly. 

“Hey..you okay?” He asks in concern. 

“Yeah..yeah I think that everything is just sinking in you know?”

“Yeah..I understand.” 

You ate together in silence, with Friends playing in the background. You felt Dean glance over to you every few moments, but you pretended not to notice. 

“Are you excited for your first shift tomorrow?” He asked. 

“I’m a little nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a job.”

“You’ll do great. I go there every night and it’s mainly the same people who eat there. Everyone is super nice to the staff and the ladies get good tips. I believe in you y/n.” 

“Thank you Dean.” You let out a small yawn. 

“Are you sleepy?”

“Getting there.” 

“Why don’t you head to bed? You need rest sweetheart.” 

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” 

“Here, I’ll walk you.” 

He trailed behind you, and you gently hugged him before entering your room. “Thank you for everything. You’ll never know how much I appreciate it.” You whisper to him and he held you tighter against his body. 

“You’re welcome y/n.” 

You crawled into bed, and moaned softly at the memory foam mattress. It was so soft, and you felt your eyelids droop instantly as you became more comfortable. 

After Dean finished another episode, he shut the tv off and locked up. Before he went into his room he quietly checked on you and he smiled at the sight of you snuggled into the mattress. You were wrapped up in the covers like a cocoon, and he felt his heart swell. 

You were such a sweet and beautiful girl. He wasn’t sure what happened to you for you to end up in the position you were in, but he was a patient man and he was going to be there for you and pick up the pieces. 

#dean winchester #dean series #Dean x reader #dean fluff #supernatural #sam winchester #homeless #dean angst #mechanic dean #dean winchester angst #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester smut #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x Female!Reader #dean x y/n #dean x reader smut #dean x reader fluff #dean x reader angst #dean winchester fluff #fluff #fluffy #dean winchester series #angsty #angst #sam and dean #CAS #benny

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V2; report xiii

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, workplace relationships

warnings: swearing 

word count: 1.8k

g/n: decided on a bit of a filler for this one as a sort of prelude to future scenes 👀👀 ((likewise manifesting my plan to post another chapter this week))

[taglist]:  @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle @btsmakesmehappy @stargukkie @moonchild1​

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

Jungkook locks his apartment door behind him, jiggling the doorknob afterwards for ‘double security’ as one would usually call it. He grabs his backpack from the floor and places one of the straps on his shoulders and heads on his way. As he passes by two of his neighbors who live in the same floor, he nods at them, adding a brief hum in greeting. 

“Hey man!” One of the men, Jikwang (as what Jungkook believes this man’s name was), calls out just before Jungkook reaches the elevator. “There was this hot girl asking about you last night.” 

Jungkook raises a brow. He hadn’t really met anyone recently, besides that one cute law student who was looking for a new tenant - and eventually turned out to be your neighbor this whole time. She was cute and all, but she didn’t seem like the type that was ‘hot’ to these types of people. 

Jungkook racks his brain for anything, trying to remember the very few number of his one night stands.Surely,none of them would have gotten pregnant with protection on….surely? On top of that, he hadn’t really disclosed his address to a lot of people too, so there was no way someone would be looking for him, all the more a “hot” woman,as these two would claim. 

“Did she say what her name was?” 

The one beside Jikwang shakes his head, adjusting his beanie. He’d seen this dude a couple of times hanging around, but he never actually got his name.  “Nah bro, I don’t think you’re the commitment type of dude…” he comments, dark eyes looking at Jungkook from his head down to his toe. Who was this guy anyways and who was he to judge whether Jungkook was the type to enter a committed relationship or not? 

“She just...looked rich, rich. She had a driver... who helped her come down from a nice Benz.” 

Jungkook feels his heart drop to the ground. No way in hell. 

“I think her name was Hee something...Junghwa? I dunno man, I’m not good with names. But it sounds similar to that…” 

“Was it Junghee?” 

“Yeah I think that’s it…” bonnet-dude replies, tapping a finger against his chin as he approaches Jungkook. “You think maybe you can set me up? With you know…” 

Jikwang knocks the back of bonnet-man’s head. “I got dibs first, shithead. “If she’s not already yours though,” he adds, delivering a wink aimed at Jungkook. “Her friends will do.” 

Jungkook squints his eyes at the duo. “No. She’s my sister. And she doesn’t have any friends.” A chill courses through his spine as he replies, wondering how she managed to find out where he lived, and why would she even reach out? Why now, when she had so many years to do so? 

Beanie guy simply laughs at him - if it was even considered laughing, when he was practically splitting his sides with laughter - like the thought of having a sister was hilarious to him. “You’re real funny, man. There is no...way...in hell… that that lady was your sister.” 

Ah yes, this man is a health vice personified. Jungkook notes the discoloration of his teeth, the god-awful odor coming from his mouth, and they both reek of alcohol and drugs combined. From a safe distance, Jungkook watches their amusement over the subject that is his sister, thinking about why he even indulged these two in the first place. For all he knows, they might have been shitting on him the whole time. 

“Sorry man. I mean...she’s rich and hot… and you?” Jikwang shrugs his shoulders. 

‘And he?’ What about him? 

What the hell was that supposed to mean? 

Jungkook clicks his tongue silently, clearly taking full offense with Jikwang’s statement. Did they just imply he didn’t look rich and hot too? Well, compared to them though, they’ll obviously have way longer to go. 

Jungkook blinks before equally returning their level of disbelief. “For real, bro?” These men diss him, won’t believe he has a sister whose aura dwarfs his by a million percent, and now they want him to set up a date with her? He shakes his head. Only crooks like these would say insane shit like this. 

If only this wasn’t the cheapest and most convenient apartment he could find to accommodate his daily hustle, Jungkook would have moved out of this crap excuse of an apartment building a long time ago. 

“Keep dreaming man.” 

“Hey, this is what I get for selling you my bike for a good price?” Jikwang eyes Jungkook, taunting him. 

“I owe you nothing. I paid for it ages ago.” Jungkook turns on his heel, leaving the two in the crusty ass corridor of their apartment building. He needs to get a new place. Quickly. 

With a sigh, he pulls on his down jacket, keeping himself warm as he walks to the garage. 

‘King Auto’ 

There’s a certain warmth that envelops Jungkook whenever he sees the garage, a place he’d rather call home than his terrible apartment building. It sits right at the corner of two busy streets, just six blocks away from his apartment. 

Funnily enough, it wasn’t him who first found out about the garage but the other way around. Well, technically, the owner did. Lee Dongmin, owner and manager of ‘King Auto’ repairs and restores almost all types of cars and bikes alike, occasionally servicing high-end cars on lucky days. 

Dongmin would usually see Jungkook pass by the garage in the morning on his way to the university or his part-time job.Well, being located at a busy street in the city of Seoul, there would normally be a lot of passersby but Dongmin knew these people either worked or lived around the area; Jungkook, however, always lingered when he walks past the garage. 

It had come to Dongmin’s knowledge a few months later that Jungkook purposefully used a longer route on his way, walking two extra blocks just so that he could pass by the garage. Dongmin hadn’t initially done anything about it, as he thought Jungkook simply took interest in cars - especially when the shop had its fair share of servicing cars from the western market. 

There was this particular day though one summer, that their paths would finally cross. Jungkook’s bike, the same bike he bought from sketchy Jikwang, broke down. Coincidentally just in front of King Auto too. Funnily enough, no one in the garage was familiar with fixing up bikes, but Jungkook simply asked if he could borrow a few tools and he’d fix his bike himself. 

Ultimately, Jungkook became part of the King Auto family. He’d spend his spare time in the garage when he’s not busy with his part-time jobs and on occasion, Jungkook gets to keep a tiny commission whenever he helps out with the repairs. 

Jungkook goes through the front door greeting the new receptionist, Clark, a good morning before heading straight to the garage. Jungkook spots a familiar shade of blue peeking through the scissor lifts, just by the end row. He practically dashes to the car in excitement, too thrilled to greet his favorite car he had worked on previously. 

“My baby!” The boy exclaims as he rests his chin on the Porsche Panamera’s roof. “Kook! Get your hands off that! I just had it cleaned!” gruffs Mansik from the other side of the car, flinging his towel at Jungkook who mumbles a sorry but continues to cradle the car, a little more gently this time. 

“If you continue doing that, you know a towel isn’t the only thing Mansik is going to throw at you.” Lee Dongmin’s voice is low, careful that the man he’s referring to won’t hear his words. “I’m glad he hasn’t resorted to tools yet...just a couple of smelly socks and a t-shirt that smells like it hasn’t been washed for months... “ 

“Fuckers.” True to Jungkook’s foreboding, Mansik does throw a sock ball from out of nowhere, one which barely misses Jungkook’s face. Dongmin simply shakes his head at his workers, who he has considered family at this point, Jungkook included. “I’m just glad none of that fell into my first coffee of the day.” Dongmin observes, drawing himself father from the Porsche and any flying objects later on. 

“By the way, the owner is actually here to pick up the car. I may or may not have mentioned your infatuation with it.” 

Jungkook almost instantly jumps to his feet, searching for the owner inside the garage, but disappointingly ending up with all the familiar faces at the garage. “Chill, kid. He just grabbed some coffee down the street,” Dongmin mentions as he takes a sip of his own. “Ah, speaking of the devil,” the latter states, nodding his head towards someone behind Jungkook. 

“Seokjin-sunbaenim?” 

“Oh hey! Wasn’t expecting to see you here...Jungkook, right?” 

“Yes sir!” Jungkook’s pupils shake, animatedly looking back and forth between the garage owner and his upper-level resident. “So...you’re the one who owns this Porsche?” Seokjin raises his cup, adding a small nod in Jungkook’s direction. He internalizes his excitement, before confessing his love for Seokjin’s Panamera. 

“And so, Dongmin here mentioned. Also said you were the one who fixed her up. Thanks man!” 

Dongmin looks at the two of them, eyebrows creased in the middle. “You two know each other?” 

“Seokjin-sunbaenim is a senior of mine at Woocheon.” Seemingly shellshocked at the new piece of information, Dongmin turns to Seokjin, “You’re a doctor?” The owner of the Porsche rolls his eyes fondly, “Yes, Dongmin. We can have lives outside the hospital too, you know.” 

“Anyways, ‘Mera’s ready to go yeah?” 

“Of course. Kook fixed it up just fine.” 

“Alright. Got a shift today man? Need a ride to the hospital?” 

Jungkook is tempted to give in, but merely fixing Seokjin’s car is enough honor for him and he can’t take advantage of his generosity. “No thank you, sunbae. I’ve already got a ride to work today.” Jungkook points to his bike on the other side of the garage. 

Seokjin tuts his disbelief. “You’re kidding me right? In this weather?” The older doctor points outside, then rubs his palm against his down coat. “No way in hell, kid. Get in the car.” 

“Really?” Jungkook mumbles, dimple on display as his lips form a thin line. Seokjin makes a hum of approval as he takes off his jacket while Jungkook dashes back to where he’d left his backpack. “He’s a good kid, Jungkook. Can be a bit of a delinquent sometimes, but he’s good. Take care of him, yeah?” 

“Huh,” Seokjin smirks, “this handsome face got nothing he can’t handle.” Dongmin rolls his eyes this time, “Seriously doubt we’re the same age honestly.” 

Jungkook returns to where the Porsche is parked, and Seokjin gets a spur-of-the-moment idea. The surgical resident throws his keys to Jungkook before settling inside the passenger seat. Jungkook, surprised as ever, simply stands there in surprise. “Well?” Seokjin asks, ducking towards the dashboard so he could take a look at Jungkook, “We’re gonna be late!” 

© joontier 2021

#jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #jeon jungkook #bts aus #bts fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #doctors au

[skulljackxiii]

Dramaronpa: Star Struck- Duncan Reveal

*whispers to self*..."Holy Shit, it's Duncan...oh man, I feel lightheaded." (There's no way I could mistake that dude for anyone else. That intense aura full violent and gruesome intent, the sturdy build that's been developed over countless fights, and of course those stern and cold eyes with a stare that could just stab someone just by facing their direction.) (As someone who covers the latest topics and hottest news, I know lots about people who've been in the limelight and been discussed about online from recent years, and there's been no one more discussed about than Duncan, especially when news about his release was surfaced recently. Actually, I covered Duncan in lots of my videos and has always been one of my most popular topics to date, especially when I dig up dirt about his life from my usual secret sources.) (Duncan, someone of the same age as me, has the reputation that's known across the World for being violent, merciless, and a danger to society. From my intel, he was just this ordinary delinquent that cause trouble here and there, but was still a hindrance to others. His name only became known right before his first year in Middle School where he committed such a heinous crime that he got himself locked up in an actual prison.) (...In a real prison, a preteen placed in a facility meant for ADULTS...It's insane I know, but that's not even the craziest part.) (You see, not only was this preteen placed in ACTUAL prison...BUT this KID actually got transferred to 5 different/separate state prisons just for...,get this,..."Bad Behavior". If that doesn't sell you of what kind of guy this is, then don't worry. There's more...) (Duncan was supposed to serve a longer sentenced than he did, but there was some sketchy scandals going on in the higher echelons of law enforcement involving him. In the end he was released after only 3 years of his sentence, and from there the whole World went insane when news got out.) (Some say that Duncan met a notorious/powerful Mob Boss in one of the prisons and became part of the criminal underworld as his right hand, thus getting him out earlier. I'm not sure whether this is fake or not, but just looking at this guy you can never tell.) (After his release, more batshit insane tales, or more like legends at this point, started sprouting left and right. There was stuff about him like causing a gang war between two infamous factions in order to watch them wipe each other out so he can get all the dough for his drug trade, there's him hooking up with any of the hottest super models and throwing them out the next day, another about him being a massive junkie that massacred an entire gang just to get more drugs, one where it says that he could sell people's organs to the black market after beating them all up in a fight, an insane one that said that he killed his own parents just for the fun of it, and so much more tales after these.) (I know a lot of these sound insane and I want to believe that they're just made up, but I just can't. After watching this one video, I started to think that all the crazy stories about him are true.) (One day there was this video sent to me by one of my sources, it was a simple night recording that happened to stumble upon a fight that soon cemented someone as a iconic threat to anyone. In the recording, there was a gathering of this biker group that's known to wreck havoc across the country. In every city they enter, there's always such a large reports of property damages, injured casualties, and even deaths. In the recording, that same infamous group that instill fear into others, were in fear themselves as tears and snot was running down their faces as they try to flee for their lives. And as some of them try to flee, at the center was a teen with a bright green mohawk that used the pair of handcuffs that he always wears, as brass knuckles to beat in and destroy everyone on that spot. When the night was over, the entire gang, whose members exceeded over 100, were bloody, beaten, and destroyed laying on the ground near a river, and the only one left standing was Duncan. Since then the event would be known throughout the entire web as the Riverside Massacre, one of many feats about Duncan.) (People say that those handcuffs belonged to the first officer that tried to detain Duncan, but to only get himself killed in the process. So he wears them at all time to warn people as to what will happen if they get in his way.) (So ever since his release, everyone has come to recognize him as the monster as he is, and has unanimously labelled him as the Most Dangerous Adolescent in the Country.) *whispers to self*..."Okay... now, you can always run past him, not look at his direction, and avoid a world of pain and agony...Buuuttttt, if you can somehow get a decent relationship going, then you can get exclusive info about him and score big time." *grunts quietly*..."Come one, you can do this. He's a guy, you're a guy, there's some common grounds there...And besides, if he plans on attending here then he has to behave properly, so there's no way your life is in danger...right?" *whispers to self*..."Alright, lets do this!!!" "...........................HHHH-hhhhEEEEeeeee-LLLLLLlllllllllllOOOOOoooooo.......mmmmmmmmmmmmmm.................." (Well.....Shit. I think I peed a little)

#tdi #tdi fanart #tdi duncan #duncan #Total Drama Island #total drama #total drama fanart #totaldramaduncan #dr #DR2 #sdr2 #dr2 goodbye despair #danganronpa dr2 #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa fanart #danganronpa goodbye despair #danganronpaau #dr fanart #Fanart #au #dramaronpa #dramaronpa starstruck #starstruck

[britishvamps]

Arranged

Prompt: None Fandom: Atiny (ATEEZ) Member: Jeong Yunho Warnings: Not really, underlying tones of sketchy deals, mention of a gun and knowledge of a crime family Word Count: 3,012 *Quick PSA: I cut it down but it's still over 3k words. This may be part of a series with the Ateez boys. This will have a series of its own and this is written for my black/POC girls 💜*

The day of your nineteenth birthday began pretty much like every typical day in your household. You were awoken at 7:30 am, went into the bathroom to have a shower. You sat back in front of your vanity, body and hair still wrapped in a towel as you moisturised your arms and legs when a knock on your door. “Come in.” You said, changing the song playing from your phone to Khalid’s ‘free spirit’ as your parents walked in. Behind them, an array of gifts were being carried in bags, and boxes followed them as they came up to hug you. “Happy birthday, sweetie.” Your mother spoke as she sat on your bed. “Happy birthday, pumpkin.” Your father whispered as he kissed your forehead before straightening out his suit and rushed back out, leaving you in your now packed room with your mother still sat on the bed. “Baby, get dressed and come meet your father and me downstairs in the dining room, okay. Dress cute.” She uttered as she arose and strutted out, her nude Louboutin heels clicking on the marble floor with each step she took before you heard the click of the door behind her.

Assuming it was another row of gifts, you dried your hair and quickly dressed in a long black flowy dress with gladiator sandals. Deciding to go semi-bare faced, you put on your lashes, did your eyebrows and put on your jewellery before you went downstairs. As you walked into the massive dining hall, one of the help came and placed a stack of hot, fluffy pancakes in front of you as two others place similar looking plates in front of your parents. “Eat up, baby. We have to go out soon to meet a few people.” Your father spoke as he skimmed over his paper whilst sipping his coffee, glancing at you as you placed a few strawberries on your plate and cut them into your pancakes. Giving a brief nod, you quickly dug in before rushing to your walk-in closet and grabbing your nude cardigan. Hopping down the stairs, your parents stood by the door with their entourage awaiting your arrival before you all bustled out and entered your respective cars. Your mother and father in one car with two guards in the front seats, you in another with three, and the rest split in two other similar looking sleek, black BMW X6′s before you set off to your location, still unknown to you. “So... where are we going, guys?” You quizzed your escorts after about 45 minutes of driving through the city, to which you got a short reply of “You’ll see when we arrive, Miss.” Rolling your eyes, you sat scrolling through the birthday wish messages from your social media as your friends posted photos from balls and events as well. “Well, seeing as nobody is going to say anything, I’m going to connect my phone to the aux.” You say as you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean forward to grab the thin black cable. Soon after, the music’s soft melodies were surrounding everyone in the car.

It was not until an hour or so later that you had begun slowing down in front of the great black gates that stood tall and proud in front of a large, pristine white coloured house. The bright green lawn and burgundy door stood out in comparison to its white canvas. As the gates to the unknown slowly opened, the silence in the area almost became deafening. It seemed virtually ghostly besides the hum of the engines that soon cut off as they reached their destination at the top of the driveway.

As you exited the vehicles, the once empty patio was now occupied by a single maid, much like Amanda. She stood, awaiting your ascent up the stairs. She leads you and your parents to a large room that could only describe what one might use for an exaggerated dinner party. On one side of the table stood a man, a woman who you assumed was his wife judging by her posture and clothing and a younger, taller male off on the side of the woman. Your mother and father walked towards them, beginning the greetings between them and the more youthful male shock their hands. Although confused, you shook their hands, bowing slightly to the younger male who seemed to have no interest in being in the same room as anyone who was actually in there already. “Hello, please sit. We have much to discuss.” The older man said, pointing towards the chairs as he took his place at the head of the table.

Confused, you remained stood up. “What is this? Where are we?” You quizzed, to which the younger male finally looked up at you, eyes curiously glancing over your figure as if trying to see if you were serious about your question or not. This gave you a chance to see him correctly and was he a sight to see. His face seemingly made by the gods themselves and his broad shoulders accentuated by his choice of suit. A grey check suit and white dress shirt with a deep black tie. “Sit (y/n). You will soon understand.” Your father’s voice spoke in a tone you haven’t heard from him before. Sitting opposite the younger male, you watched as another man, who you hadn’t noticed was even in the room, came and handed your father and the other older male a stack of papers, much like a contract. “Seriously, dad, we’re here to do business on my birthday.” You deadpanned, quite annoyed that the secrecy seemed only for another one of your father’s ‘business deals’.

“(y/n)...” Your mother started, before being cut off by your father. “(y/n), this is Mr and Mrs Jeong and their son Yunho.” As he spoke, he handed you the stack of papers as Mr Jeong handed his son a copy of your documents. Looking down at dark black ink that sat on the accumulation of white papers, sat your marriage contracts.

Thick, slabs of ivory paper perched on the deep black glass of the table, with the neatly written words staring back at you as it read ‘Legalised document of the union of the Jeong’s and the (y/l/n)’ s’. The thoughts swirling in your head were too loud as you looked up in horror, taking a glance around the table only to receive a sea of all blank faces. It became quickly apparent that you were the last one to know. Abruptly arising in anger, you practically flew out of the room, dismissing the yells of your parents and just when you had reached the door of the house, you were suddenly stopped by a sharp, curt pull on the arm, turning to be face to face with the beautiful individual who was previously sat opposite you. “I suggest you return on your own volition before I am forced to bring you back.” He spoke his face at much closer proximity than you had expected. Breathing heavily, you pulled your arm out of his hand before speaking. “If you think I am walking back into there so I can hear about how I am to get married to you on my nineteenth birthday, you, sir, have much more wrong with you than my parents do.”

As you opened the door, you were abruptly picked up and tossed over the shoulder of the man who you was to be your future husband. Screeching, you yelled to be let down, but your screams fell upon deaf ears as he walked you back into the dining room and set you down by the door before entering it and holding the door open for you to walk past. Huffing, you pushed your hair back and walked into the room, angrily throwing yourself into your chair as you listened to your parents plan the type of wedding they wanted you to have. Still angry, you zoned you into your thoughts, wondering what you possibly could’ve done in your past life to deserve such a treatment in which your own parents would ship you off to be wed to a man who, in the short hour you had known him, had already manhandled you and not left a good impression. “So, it is decided. The wedding will be in 6 months, and the two of you will be living together for that time. Get to know each other better.” Mr Jeong said, clapping his hands together as both sets of parents beamed at one another. “We will, of course, have to meet again to talk about the official taking over of my place once Yunho is wed, but until then, it seems we have a wedding to get through.” Mr Jeong finished as they all arose, shaking hands once more and to which you did not partake, just walking out. Upon entering your car, you locked the doors to ensure your parents wouldn’t try to speak to you.

“Where to, Miss (y/n)?” The driver asked, your guards back in their designated seats. “Anywhere but home. Make sure my parents don’t try to follow me.” You ordered, pulling your earphones out of your pocket and letting the lyrics of Billie Eilish consume you. It was not until two and a half hours later that you realised your destination. In this park, your parents used to take you as a child, before your father became too busy with his business to have your fortnightly picnic with you in that same park. Walking through the small, isolated area, you finally took a seat in what became your usual thinking spot. A large oak tree perched in front of the midsized artificial lake that sat in the middle of the field. Thinking back to the beginning of your day, even if you were given a thousand guesses, none would have been close to the events of today. At a mere 19 years of age, you got engaged and soon to be wed to a rude man you had known for only three long hours—a very handsome man, but a rude man nonetheless.

The sun was still shining brightly in the afternoon, but there was a clear breeze. You had been sat there for much longer than you had anticipated as your stomach grumbles, indicating that it was time to start heading back. Dreading the drive back, you slowly walked back towards the car where one of your guards, Eric, was holding a bag of takeout and a drink. “Figured you’d be hungry, Miss (y/n).” He smiles and hands you the food and drink before opening the car door, letting you slide in.

Two months had passed, and your parents had decided that it would be best to announce your engagement during one of your father’s trimonthly “fundraisers”. At this time, you and Yunho had only interacted when your parents and the Jeong’s visited and even then, the interactions were curt and almost business-like themselves. You slept in separate rooms and continued to live very individual lives; you, unaware of the back alley dealings and Yunho, preparing to take over his father’s “business.” All your friends were super excited that you were living with such a cute guy and started making plans to go wedding dress shopping but if only they knew the truth; that it was nothing more than a business deal.

You had to go shopping with Yunho for a matching dress and suit, both your parents joined making sure it was going well. You had entered another boutique, the employees running around trying to find a dress to match Yunho’s burgundy suit that he had seen almost instantaneously after visiting the first store, you, however, seemed to have no intentions to finding a dress, enjoying the complimentary champagne and strawberries you were getting served. “(y/n) you need to take this seriously. This is a good thing.” Your mum spoke, grabbing the champagne flute from your hand before pulling you up. In front of you was an assortment of dresses in the same colour as Yunho’s suit. Rolling your eyes, you ran your hands over the materials of the dresses, ranging from silk to velvet. You stopped at a silk dress with gold detailing, pulling it from the rack and holding it to your body. “Perfect choice, miss (y/n). This will look amazing on you.” The employee complimented. You walked into the changing area and put on the dress, instantly falling in love with the way it looked. You walked out to see your mum, and Yunho’s mum watches you in awe. “That’s the dress. You look beautiful, darling. This is the one.” Mrs Jeong spoke, signalling towards an employee. “Go get changed; I’ll go pay for this, and then we can get brunch and start discussing the wedding.” And just like that, the perfect moment came crashing down with reality.

A few weeks had passed, and it was the day of the ball. Everything was decorated to a T; the drinks fountains looked taller than you as they sat on the tables with filled champagne flutes roaming around as people started arriving. You and Yunho were in the study with your parents, receiving another lecture about acting like a couple. "Yunho, (y/n), please. Try acting more like a couple. Hold hands, maybe a kiss or something." His father sighed, watching the two of you practically glaring at one another from across the room. "I do not remember signing up for this." You groaned, seeing your parents glare at you before you stood up, trying to walk to the door. "(y/n) sit down. This marriage is for the best for the both of you." Your mother muttered, watching your every move. "The marriage is happening; the best thing you can do is try and make it as enjoyable as you can." Your father announced, ending the conversation as he put on his suit jacket, turning and nodding to Yunho before he began walking out. "I will do my part for tonight but do not expect me to act as if this was of my volition." You notified, pushing past him, the tail of your dress flowing behind you.

The party was in full swing when your parents had begun getting everyone's attention as they started announcing your betrothal. "Ladies and gentlemen. We have some exciting news. In a few months, my son will be getting married." Exclaimed Mr Jeong, receiving several cheers and claps from guests. With his hand out, Yunho walked towards where you and your parents were stood before taking your hand and placing a gorgeous diamond engagement ring on it. This caused an uproar of cheers, and he leant into you. "Keep this up, and one might think you actually like me." You whispered as you faked a smile, giving Yunho a quick side look before smiling back at the guests.

After you descended the stairs, your girlfriends began asking about 'the mysterious fiancee'. As if those words were his summoning, a hand snaked around your waist, causing you to force a smile as you looked up at him. "I heard I was being looked for." He smiled, planting a kiss on your temple. One would've actually believed you were a couple if they did not look too close. "Yes, girls, this is Yunho. Yunho, these are my best friends." Each of them not so subtly giving you approving looks as they shook his hand. "Pleasure. But I must steal away my beautiful fiancee." He charmed, to which they immediately sent you both off with a giggle and a wink. Yunho led you into a room in the back, immediately dropping his arm from your waist the second the door closed. "Why are we in here when the party and alcohol are out there?" You chided. Rolling his eyes, he unbuttoned his suit jacket. "We need to talk. You can't avoid me, so this the best place." He began, sitting in one of the chairs. "What do you know about your father's business?"

"He owns a few restaurants, some buildings and some shipping companies; I don't know. Why do you ask?" You quizzed, also sitting down. Yunho let out an incredulous laugh, leaning back. "Baby, that is far from the truth. Where we like it or not, we're going to be wed, so time to lay out a few truths. Our fathers are both the heads of two very powerful crime syndicates. Our marriage is an alliance to which we will both gain a lot. We may not see eye to eye, but you will be my wife, and I promise no harm will come your way." He said, staring at your face as it contorts to one of confusion and shock. Suddenly it was all making sense; the late-night work meetings, the cryptic conversations and the constant need to have guards. "I- This is crazy! It all kind of makes sense, but I can't be marrying a- a criminal." You rushed, standing up quickly. "Listen, I am telling you to warn you. We will never be 100% safe, and better you find out than during a situation that may involve me bringing my gun." He spoke as if this whole thing was normal. "Look, we can talk about this after the party. We disappear for too long, and people might think we're doing something, and we wouldn't want that now, would we love?" He smirked, straightening his suit before he sauntered out, leaving you stood in the room alone with your thoughts. Letting out a shocked laugh, you fixed your dress, faked a smile and walked back out to the enormous hall where Yunho was seemingly deep in conversation with your friends. You looked around, the news of your father's business partners not being as legit as they seem to change your perspective of each and every member in the room. Your father's head of management for his buildings and hotels you no longer regarded as your godfather; your driver no longer felt like he had just that one job.

Tag list: @helwegen @yunhobabygurl If anyone else wants to get tagged, please just message me or leave it below :)

#ateez #ateez mafia au #ateez x reader #ateez scenario #ateez angst #jeong yunho #jung yunho #ateez yunho #yunho scenarios #jeong yunho scenarios #jeong yunho imagines #choi san #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #choi jongho #kang yeosang #song mingi #jung wooyoung

[desi-lgbt-fest]

Day 5: Platonic

A story I wrote for today's prompt. It's a story about two middle aged men realising the happiness they want can come in many different forms.

1. 8 k words.

Cw: Mild homophobia. Incorrect language. It's indicative of character's understanding, not mine.

...

When Vikram Kumar first transferred to their branch, Nath wasn't impressed. Theirs was a small transport company, still somehow holding on against the giants of the industry. They were doing well for themselves; they had branches in few neighbouring states where the business was concentrated. And yeah, the company policy does state that employees should get transferred around every 4 years or so. But that never really happened. Nath had been working at Gada transport ltd for more than 25 years now and the only way anybody new ever came in the office was if someone died or retired.

That was what had happened. Another clerk, Nisha Bhagwan, had a heart attack at the computer and in came Vikram Kumar, a transfer from Nagpur. The office people took to him like animals take to the new clown at the circus. Nobody was really sad about Mrs Bhagwan's passing. She was old and in an office full of other old people, they were just waiting for the hat to drop on someone. Better Mrs Bhagwan than us.

They inquired after him, after his family, his mother's family, his neighbour's family, his neighbour's dog's family. When they found out that he was divorced and currently living in a sketchy hotel, they immediately turned to Nath.

Nath, or Adinath, as his name was, owned two flats in his society. Two flats side by side, one in which he lived. He very famously refused to rent it out to families or students or single women. Which meant, he never really rented it out. It actually quite suited to his own solitary silent life. But he regretted boasting about it in the office because here came his perfect rent.

"I- uh. The apartment is very dirty and I'd have to clean it," he started making excuses.

Vikram Kumar shrugged. "I don't mind. Better than listening to the sex noises coming from the side wall." Raucous laughter emerged, unhampered by the fact that their only woman employee wasn't there anymore.

Nath couldn't say no.

Vikram Kumar did turn out to be an ideal renter. He was silent. No guests. Rent, which Nath had kept a little high to dissuade, always on time. Sometimes old hindi songs drifted from his flat but Nath didn't mind. As his novelty wore off and office people stopped fawning over him, Nath did find himself to be quite okay with Vikram Kumar's existence.

A distinct mark in his favour was that he didn't laugh when at their regular chai break (5 minute break that always turned into a 45 minute one) the others made him familiar with Nath's title as the resident Bramhachari.

"Never married, never looks at a woman," Bhosle, their manager remarked.

"Hey you remember that time when that bombshell came in complaining about some lost package? Nath did not even look away from her face."

"Pakka gentleman, I tell you. He's not the customer complaint manager for nothing."

Everybody guffawed. Nath gave his regular pained smile. Vikram Kumar smiled back. For a moment, Nath thought it was a smile of understanding.

Eventually, Nath started offering Vikram Kumar a ride home on his ancient scooter. He obliged. When the ride turned regular, Vikram Kumar started contributing for petrol. Another mark in his favour.

13 months later, Vivek Chand, accountant, retired. In came a new hire, Ashalata Waad.

Suddenly many colleagues started turning up in pressed shirts and oiled hair. Nath merely shook his head and laughed at their preening. It was their colleagues' turn to laugh when Ms. Ashalata, recently widowed, took to Nath. Furtive smiles. Sympathy over dealing with difficult clients. Nath of course did not notice. But the other colleagues did. And out of sympathy for Ms Ashalata's feelings, they gently took her to a side after a week or so and directed her towards someone more likely to respond; the new divorcee, Vikram Kumar.

That, Nath certainly noticed.

That evening, Nath left without offering a ride to him.

Next morning, everyone noticed the distinct coldness between Ms Ashalata and Vikram Kumar. It was a long day too. Some trouble with licensing of a large shipment, everybody had to stay behind. It was well over 8 when people started leaving. Vikram came over to Nath's desk and tapped on it.

"I don't think this late I will find a riksha like yesterday. Will you please give a ride home?"

Nath sighed. He wasn't petty after all. Well, not much.

The streets were near empty. Theirs was a small town. One that eats at 8 and sleeps at 10. Nath's scooter cut through the silence and the sickly orange lights of the streetlamps like an interloper. They were crossing the Hutatma Chauk when Vikram asked him to stop.

"What for?"

"It was a long and stressful day. I wanted us a relax a bit at the park bench before we go home."

"I'm not going-"

"Please yaar."

Nath sighed.

Stopping the scooter at side, they both walked to the circle where statue of some forgotten freedom fighter stood, benches around it. Surprisingly, there were some people ambling around. Old couples taking a rest from nightly walk. A group of youngsters.

After having the sound of scooter in the ears for past five minutes, the sudden silence was deafening.

"I don't think Ms Waad would be talking to me again," Vikram Kumar started without preamble, a laughter in his voice.

Nath sighed and ran a hand through in thin hair. "You didn't do any-"

"No no, oh god no! I just said I'm not interested. I think that was enough for her to be offended."

"She's not your type?" he probed gently, curious.

Vikram was silent for a moment and then burst out with sudden emotion, "Why does it matter? Why one single woman and one single man can not stay without having an affair? Ye saala bollywood-" Nath hushed him, noticing the people around.

"Sorry." Vikram said, taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

"I get it. Years ago, when I told my father I was gay-"

"You're what??"

Nath felt like he made a tremendous mistake in judgement. But he was a grown man dammit, he will hold his ground!

"I said I am gay." Nath held his gaze. Vikram Kumar stared back, unknown range of emotions passing. Eventually he broke the gaze, ran a hand through his own balding hair and sat back.

He shook his head. "I am not gay, if that's why you-"

"That wasn't-"

"I'm NOT. I like women. I- I mean men are good too. I. I don't-"

Nath couldn't help it. He broke into a loud laugh. Like Vikram had performed some excellent comedy sketch.

Vikram punched him lightly on his shoulder, a smile evident on his face.

"I just meant, men, women. All are same to me. Honestly, I didn't mind being married to Sheela. I provided for her, I cared for her wellbeing. Our.. bedroom relations were less ideal but I didn't shut her out. I did my duty."

"I'm guessing she wanted someone who didn't see her as a duty?"

Vikram shrugged. "She was nice about it. Told me plain and simple she found someone else. We didn't have kids. It was easy. Well. As easy as it could be. She told the court I was impotent for swift divorce. I agreed. It caused drama in families though, which is why I asked for a transfer."

"Mrs Bhagwan died at a really opportune moment then."

They both shared a laugh and things fell silent once again.

"So you are... one of those," Vikram tried to say casually.

The elderly couple had left. A newly wed looking one took their place. Nath suddenly felt he was thrown back in time.

"I don't have much family," he started. "Mother died when I was young. Theirs was a love marriage, quite unusual for the times. They had run away and so had lost their families. My father raised me well enough; started pestering me for marriage when I got the job at 22. I kept avoiding for few years. But eventually I had to tell him. I wasn't going to ruin some poor woman's life." Nath looked pointedly at Vikram. Vikram didn't take offence. Just laughed self-consciously. Mark in his favour etc etc.

"Father raged for days. Didn't raise his hand on me, didn't tell anyone else but we fought a lot. It wasn't that he denied my condition. He just wanted a family. On some level we understood each other. I realise it now. I knew he wanted me to marry because he didn't want his hard fought family to die with me. And I guess, he probably knew what it meant to love someone you weren't supposed to.

He died soon after."

"When you were thirty, I remember you telling me."

Nath nodded. "I was free. I had a place of my own. A job. No family to hide myself from. I felt guilty over feeling relieved. I felt angry at being guilty. Then came sadness over being angry. That sadness stayed for a decade."

Vikram asked, "So you never...?

Nath shook out of his trip to memory lane. "Hm?"

"Are you? A bramhachari? Did you ever find-"

"There were some men here and there. Obviously there wasn't going to be a relationship," Nath scoffed. "If you know where to look, you can find release. But after Father died, I don't know, I rarely ever went looking for anybody. I didn't have it in me."

Vikram laughed. "Look at us. Two old men, all on their own, no happy family for us."

"Speak for yourself, I'm barely a day over 40," said the man, almost 50.

Vikram laughed again, looking at him with such fondness in his eyes. Nath felt sharp fear for a moment. Then he decided to be an adult again.

"You look well for your age too."

"Nath..."

Nath shivered at hearing his name. It was an intimate name. People didn't say it much. But it fit in Vikram's mouth.

"I don't want to change anything," Vikram said. "I'm happy as things are. It's ideal. I can't offer anything more."

Nath got up, brushing dust from his pants. It had gotten late. They were alone at the circle. A vehicle passing by to remind them of the world that exists.

"I'll take whatever you can offer," he said, looking away from him.

"Friendship? For as long as I live?" Vikram held out his hand.

Nath looked at it. Big, warm. Hairy. Pale skin where the wedding ring used to sit. He extended his own and took it.

"As long as I live."

... Let me know if you like it enough to see some other prompts involving them... I have so many headcanons for them.

#In case anybody was wondering they stayed in their own flats but Nath stopped taking rent from him #My OCs are real romantic I tell you #Desi LGBT Fest #Gaysis 2021 #30dpc: day 5 #platonic #short story #mlm #gay #asexual #aromantic #queer platonic relationship #cw mild homophobia #desi tag #desi lgbt #desi queer #desi pride #desiblr #pride month #desi gay #south asia #queer #queer representation #old gays

[baepsaesbae]

Before (Heal Me, Kill Me Prequel)

Pairing— Kim Taehyung x OC named Maggie (thanks @kimtaehyunq)

Genre— SMUT, Angst, Vampire!Tae au, Victorian era au

Warnings— Explicit unprotected sex (but like pretty vanilla and loving), some violence and death

Word Count— 4.8k

Summary— Taehyung was a vampire with nothing but time and boredom on his hands. He’s going on his monthly feeding adventures when he comes across a rather peculiar prey. 

A/N— This was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away and made a full prequel oops. The Heal Me, Kill Me series will be posting starting in October! The pairing will be Kim Taehyung x reader so it’ll be the usual y/n stuff. Thanks for reading, feedback is always welcome~

It was a dark and stormy night. Ok, well it wasn’t stormy, but at least it was nighttime. The year was 1863. Taehyung made his way down to the sketchy part of town, eager for a meal. Opium was all the rage nowadays, but Taehyung despised it. It tainted people, making them even more unbearable than he thought was possible. He drew the line past alcoholics, though he still wasn’t fond of them. However, people were even easier to persuade with absinthe coursing through their veins. 

“Hey handsome, looking for some fun?” a woman approached him from the shadows, her knockers practically spilling out of her corset. She reeked of all sorts of carcinogenic substances. 

“Away with ye, painted Jezebel,” Taehyung shooed her away, and she instantly stood up straight and walked in the opposite direction with a clouded look in her eyes. 

It was hard to come by a decent meal these days. Unfortunately, sticking to the slums was his best option. No one cared if a poor commoner went missing. At least he only had to partake in such grizzly actions about once a month. Any longer than that and he’d be in big trouble (or more accurately, random people who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time would be in big trouble).

Something caught Taehyung’s attention. He lifted his chin and took a deep inhale of a sweet aroma that wafted through the air. It was the scent of something he’d never dream of finding in the slums; an untainted individual. Untainted in the sense of a perfectly pure body, not once given into sinful indulgences. 

Taehyung quickly followed the smell, growing more excited with each step. Through the narrowly winding alleyways and past some rather alarming scenes, Taehyung did not stop. He could barely keep himself from salivating once he arrived at the source. 

There she was. A beacon of light in the dreary depths of a neglected corner of the world. Taehyung curiously observed her as she fluttered from body to body, carefully checking pulses and offering aid. He couldn’t help but scoff at her earnesty. There was no use in saving these people. They were beyond salvation. Yet, he silently watched her work as she hauled around her makeshift med kit. That was a mistake. The more he watched her, the more personal interest he took. 

After devising a plan, Taehyung was ready to make his move. He started at the opposite end of the street, intending to meet up with her somewhere in the middle. He crouched beside each body with an extended hand; random passerbys would see a well dressed man committing charity work out of the goodness of his heart. That was his intention, though he was merely hypnotizing each person into a deep slumber if they weren’t already passed out. 

“Are you looking for someone, sir?” the young woman piped up behind him.

“Not in particular,” Taehyung coolly answered as he stood up to face her.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but may I ask what someone like you is doing in a place like this if you’re not looking for someone in particular?” she crossed her arms with distrust.

“Is it a crime to want to help out the less fortunate? What we’re doing doesn’t seem to be much different. May I ask what a young girl like you is doing out here all alone in the middle of the night? It can be very dangerous,” his deep voice resonated in the air. 

“Oh. You’re helping them too? I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean any harm. People like you just don’t really come down here unless it’s for certain unspeakable acts,” she bowed her head apologetically. 

“Unspeakable? You help the people who partake in such acts,” Taehyung observed keenly, “Why bring them aid?”

“If I don’t, no one else will,” the girl answered solemnly. 

“That simple hm? You seek nothing in return? Or is your vice that of self appointed importance?” Taehyung slowly approached the girl. 

“I help them because they need it. Because they’d die without someone like me,” the girl held her ground.

“How admirable. I’m impressed, young miss. Please don’t think I was insulting you, I’m genuinely fascinated by you. Would you care to accompany me for dinner?” he extended his arm to her ever so slightly. 

“It’s a bit late for dinner isn’t it?” she responded timidly. 

“I suppose calling it a midnight snack would be more fitting. Your answer?” Taehyung asked calmly, concealing his impatience. 

“Forgive my apprehension. I’m sure you’re a fine gentleman, it’s just that this isn’t a place one would normally find fine gentlemen. I’ll gladly join you for breakfast in the morning,” she countered.

Taehyung’s eye twitched with frustration, but luckily it was too dark for the girl to see it. He needed to feed. That night. 

“I’m not keen on breakfast meals. How about tomorrow evening, during normal dinner time hours? Unless you can’t skip a day of helping the helpless,” he suggested. 

“That would be fine,” the girl finally agreed, “Oh, and I never caught your name, sir.”

“Taehyung. Pleasure to meet you,” he bowed elegantly.

“I’m Maggie, the pleasure is all mine,” she curtsied awkwardly.

After hashing out the details. Taehyung reluctantly left her alone. He wanted nothing more than to sink his fangs into her jugular, but something held him back. His curiosity got the better of him, but after living for all these years it was hard for him to find something interesting. He figured it couldn’t hurt. 

Taehyung cursed himself as he tore into an unsuspecting victim who had passed out drunk on the street. He retched at the foul taste, but this is what he has had to resort to. He couldn’t afford to be run out of another country yet again. His more refined taste would have to be put on hold for the time being (oh how he missed the good old days when people feared him enough to bring pristine victims monthly).

Rain lightly tapped against the window that Taehyung gazed out of as he scanned the crowd for Maggie. There were so many things he wanted to ask her, though a single drop of her blood would tell him everything he needed to know. Of course, that wasn’t as entertaining as an old fashioned conversation.  

Maggie finally arrived, and the restaurant host escorted her to the table. Taehyung could tell that she made an effort to look presentable. He reasoned that she was wearing her finest dress, though it had a plain and rather boring look to it. Plus, she wasn’t even wearing a fancy hat, much less a bonnet. 

“Good evening, Mr. Taehyung,” she curtsied before she sat down.

“Good evening, Miss Maggie. Have you been well?” Taehyung asked politely. 

“As well as I can be, I suppose. Yourself?” Maggie extended the same courtesy. 

“I’m splendid, now that you’re here. Tell me about yourself,” he dove right in. 

“I’m just an average girl. Nothing really special about me,” she shrugged while tugging at a strand of hair, “I never thought I’d be able to eat in a place like this in a million years. You must be embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“I disagree. I think you’re the most interesting thing here, apart from me of course,” Taehyung let out a low chuckle, “I gather you come from a poor family? What do they think about your late night escapades?” 

“They’re...gone. Sickness took them. Cholera,” Maggie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, “I don’t wanna see anyone else die so I…”

“Ah. That’s your noble cause huh? Admirable,” Taehyung took a long sip from his wine glass.

“And what of you, Mr. Taehyung? You seem rather peculiar yourself. What’s your reason for visiting that ward so late at night?” Maggie deflected the subject away from her.

“You could say I’m a humanitarian of sorts. I visit at least once a month, it’s a necessity for me,” he smiled slyly, “What else do you want to know? I haven’t had a decent conversation in ages.”

“You struck me as rather peculiar. A handsome gentleman like yourself lurking around giving aid to the weak. And then you only gave me one name when we introduced ourselves. I assumed it was your first name, so I gave you my first name in return. Forgive me if I was mistaken,” Maggie took a sip of water. 

“One name is all you need to know, dear. I’m happy we’re on a first name basis. However, I can address you otherwise if you deem it improper,” Taehyung offered.

The rest of the evening went on pleasantly. The meal was delicious, probably the best meal Maggie had ever had. She noticed that Taehyung’s meat was barely cooked, it was practically still raw. She decided not to mention it when she saw him happily gobble it down. Maggie also noticed that his red wine was thicker than what she was accustomed to seeing, but she figured it was a fancy alcohol that rich people drank. She didn’t want to embarrass herself by asking. 

Taehyung’s leg bounced quickly under the table. Maggie’s aroma grew more intense the longer he was with her. Her scent was intoxicating, and it took everything in his power not to take her then and there. He was in a conundrum. He took a liking to this spunky girl. He was torn. He didn’t know when to devour her, if to devour her at all. 

By the end of the night, he had decided. He’d keep her around for as long as he wanted, it wouldn’t be a big deal. He could easily end her life whenever he pleased anyway. The only thing he’d have to worry about was his self control. 

Taehyung and Maggie began to meet regularly. Taehyung would share the finer things in life with her. He’d take her to botanical gardens and fancy museums. In return, Maggie taught him everything she knew about medicine. She detested the use of cocaine as a common remedy, and preferred to make her own medicine. Taehyung accompanied her on her nightly rounds, he enjoyed every second he spent with her. 

It took about a year for Taehyung to officially court Maggie. She accepted, of course, and was now visiting Taehyung’s home for the first time. Home was an understatement. His mansion resided on a massive estate. 

A grand feast awaited Maggie. Her favorite dishes and desserts lined the dinner table, with Taehyung sitting at the opposite end. As Maggie dug into the food, she struggled to hold her tongue. A question had been lingering on her mind for quite some time now.

“Is everything alright, Miss Maggie? Is the food inadequate?” Taehyung asked from across the room. 

“The food is delicious, probably the best I’ve ever had. Your kitchen staff must be very talented,” Maggie shook her head. 

“Ah, I have no staff here. I’m glad you enjoy the food, it was all made by me,” Taehyung said proudly. 

“You take care of this entire property by yourself?” Maggie’s jaw dropped in shock.

“It’s tough sometimes, and lonely. I suppose I could hire one person to help out,” Taehyung lifted his eyebrows at Maggie. 

“M-me? I’m not really a good cook but--”

“You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. As you can see, I have more rooms than I know what to do with. You’re welcome to stay here with me for as long as you like,” Taehyung offered.

“Can you answer one question for me first, Mr. Taehyung?” Maggie asked tentatively. 

“Ask me anything,” Taehyung smiled.

“Are...are you ill?” Maggie looked at him with concern, “Please don’t take any offense. I noticed that we only meet in the evenings or when it’s a cloudy day. And I know that you have a predilection for barely cooked meats, and I’m sure eating raw things isn’t good for you. Also when we first met I thought rich people just had fancy alcohol but I can never see anyone drinking the same concoction as you whenever we eat at restaurants,” she rambled. 

“My my, aren’t you observant,” Taehyung’s lips twisted into an amused smile, “Are you afraid of monsters?”

“Monsters aren’t real,” Maggied quickly answered, annoyed that he deflected her questions. 

“Are you sure about that? Think carefully. I only go out at night or under cloud cover. I prefer my meat raw. I drink a rather strange red liquid that you should be very familiar with since you tend to the drunkards who are bound to get into fights down in the slums,” Taehyung toyed with her. 

“What? Do you expect me to believe that you’re some sort of vile creature that drinks blood?” Maggie laughed nervously.

In an instant, Taehyung’s chair was vacant as he menacingly stood over Maggie, “That is precisely the truth. Have you heard of vampyres?” he licked his lips.

Maggie was too frightened to move. Surely her eyes were playing tricks on her? Her eyes narrowed in on the fangs Taehyung bared as he smiled eerily down at her. 

 “I’ve heard of them. The people in the slums are terrified of being sucked dry, claiming that people wandering alone at night have a death wish. I thought they were just delusional,” panic gripped Maggie, “Were you going to eat me the first night we met?” 

“I desperately wanted to. You know the irresistible and mouth watering smell of a bakery in the morning? That’s what you smell like to me, only ten times more alluring and potent,” Taehyung nodded.

“Then why haven’t you yet?” Maggie questioned. 

“Because, my dear Miss Maggie, I am a fool. I have taken a liking to you. As you can imagine, being an immortal being gets lonely. You’ve provided me with more joy and entertainment than I’ve had in a while. At this point, I’d rather have you stay alive,” he sighed. 

“So if I stayed here with you, you’d promise you’d never harm me?” Maggie attempted to calm her breathing.

“Of course, I would not touch a hair on your head. Unless you want me to,” he winked.

“You would make me into a vampyre?” Maggie’s eyes widened.

“I was hinting at a more carnal interaction, but I could do that as well. Do you want an immortal life?” Taehyung’s eyes wandered to her exposed neck. 

“No. Not if it costs others their lives. I must be crazy Mr. Taehyung. You’ve admitted that you’re a monster and yet I still feel safe with you. I would love to move in and keep you company, if you’ll have me,” Maggie smiled fondly. 

“You’re very strange, Miss Maggie. That’s not at all the reaction I thought you’d have, but I’m happy for it. Very well, you may stay here. I can help you bring your belongings tomorrow night,” Taehyung grinned. 

“I’m curious; were you born a vampyre?” Maggie piped up. Taehyung let out a hearty laugh. 

“No, I was a human once like you. I got into a scuffle with a nasty bloke in the 16th century. Rather than killing me, he gave me a far worse end. He turned me. I haven’t seen him to this day, but I’m sure the slimy bastard is still undead somewhere in the world,” Taehyung’s cheery face fell into a scowl. 

“16th century? You’re an old man!” Maggie exclaimed teasingly.

“But I have the physical body of a young man, that must count for something, Taehyung chuckled, “Come, I can escort you to your room.”

“Am I staying the night?” Maggie tilted her head.

“That was my assumption. You’re free to leave at any time,” Taehyung shrugged. 

“It’s just that...I’ve never left my family home. I’ve been pretty lonely since everyone died. I can’t imagine how you must feel…” she trailed off.

“You’ve helped me with that tremendously. I guess we’ve cured each other’s loneliness, yes?” Taehyung cupped his hands over Maggie’s.

It was the first time he had ever touched her. His fingers were ice cold, resembling the kind of cold only a corpse could possess. Instinctively, she took his hands in hers and attempted to blow warm air onto them. Taehyung knew it would never work, but he appreciated the gesture. He pulled her into a warm embrace. 

“Forgive me if this is inappropriate. You make me feel at ease,” Taehyung whispered. To his surprise, Maggie hugged him back tightly. She didn’t say anything, but her actions were clear enough. 

Taehyung sat in an armchair in his room reading a novel a couple hours after he bid Maggie goodnight. He was pleased with the outcome of the night’s events. He was honestly dreading the thought of having to kill Maggie if she were to run away screaming. He was glad things didn’t come to that. 

There was a knock on the door. With a wave of his hand the door swung open, revealing a sleepy Maggie on the other side. 

“I heard a strange noise and couldn’t fall back to sleep,” Maggie yawned. 

“Don’t lie,” Taehyung chided without looking up from his book. 

“I’ve never slept away from home before and being alone in that big room scares me,” Maggie admitted, her eyes cast down to the floor. 

“That’s what I thought. You’re welcome to use my bed. I’ll stay here while you sleep,” Taehyung finally looked up and kindly gestured to the large bed.

“Where’s your coffin?” Maggie asked as she wiggled into the sheets. 

“That’s a stereotype. Do I look like the type of guy who sleeps in a stuffy wooden coffin? Nonsense. However, there is soil from my hometown beneath the bed,” Taehyung tsked.

“Really?” Maggie’s eyes grew wide. 

“Nope. Go to bed, Miss Maggie,” Taehyung chuckled. 

“Care to join me?” Maggie asked as she stretched. 

“I’m not going to sleep--”

“Then neither am I! I’m practically wide awake now,” Maggie interrupted him. 

Taehyung put his book down and walked to the bed, opting to sit on the end, a respectable distance away from Maggie. They talked the night away. Now that Maggie had some time to process everything, she had a plethora of questions ranging from vampyres to fashion throughout the years. 

“So have you ever been married? Or in love?” Maggie probed. 

“Never been married. Have been in love a few times. As you can imagine they all ended in heartache. Truthfully, I’ve been questioning why I let myself get so attached to you,” Taehyung confessed. 

“I’m glad you did. Because I love you, Mr. Taehyung. I fell in love with your grace and intellect, and of course you’re extremely handsome. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way about me, I just wanted to be candid with you before living together,” Maggie tugged at her hair. 

“Miss Maggie, I foolishly fell in love with you. You’d be one with the dirt by now if I hadn’t been so enthralled by you. Hm, that didn’t come out very romantic,” Taehyung shook his head before continuing, “The feeling is mutual. I know I can’t give you a normal marriage, but I promise to love you until the end.” 

Maggie crawled towards Taehyung and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Taehyung deepened the kiss as he pushed her flat onto the bed. Hands wandered. Giggles filled the air. Clothing fell to the ground. Soon, both beings were stark naked as they gazed into each other’s eyes. 

“Are you sure you want to go any further?” Taehyung asked.

“I want all of you inside me,” Maggie replied as she brought him in for another kiss.

Taehyung guided his dick to her entrance, patiently teasing it as he coated himself in her juices. Once he was drenched, he slowly slid into her, giving her time to adjust to his size. She let out soft moans as he went deeper. 

They laced their fingers together once he began to thrust. He started slowly, making sure she was enjoying herself. He wanted to enjoy all of her delicately, taking careful care not to break her. His prior flings with the whores in the brothels was different. He didn’t care about them, he used them solely for his own pleasure. But this time, he wanted to please Maggie. He was happy to see her eyes shut with pleasure as he picked up the pace. 

Taehyung placed his thumb on a certain little sensitive nub, making Maggie jump. Her eyes were blown out with lust as she arched her back. Taehyung worked her body perfectly, timing his thrusts with the clitoral stimulation. It didn’t take long for Maggie’s entire body to shake. 

“Tae-Taehyung I--”

“Go ahead. Just let it all out, Maggie,” Taehyung demanded. He accidentally let his power of persuasion slip into that statement. Maggie came on the spot, cumming all over his cock as she moaned. It wasn’t long after until Taehyung released his seed inside of her. 

Maggie’s chest heaved as she lay motionless on the bed. That was the most intense orgasm she’d ever had. Taehyung cleaned her up before tucking her back into the bed. Once he cleaned himself up, he joined her side. 

“Don’t worry about getting pregnant. I’m technically dead anyway,” he kissed her forehead before they both dozed off. 

Taehyung woke up the following evening to an empty bed. He searched the house, unable to find Maggie. He began to worry. Did she leave him to get help? Did she abandon him?

“Good morning! Sleep well?” Maggie called out to him as she walked through the front doors.

“Why were you outside?” Taehyung questioned quickly.

“Lemme show you,” Maggie took Taehyung’s hand and led him outside. She proudly showed off a patch of crudely repotted plants. She explained to him that she went into town to get a few. Since she’d save a couple lives here and there, some people felt indebted to her. She called on her favors and managed to wrangle up a couple flowers and herbs.

“I love the botanical garden you always take me to. I figured we can try and make our own here since you have so much space,” Maggie smiled.

“Do you garden often?” Taehyung asked while looking at the half wilted plants.

“Never have, but it can’t be that hard right? Just give them water and love. Just watch, this place will rival that fancy botanical garden,” a flicker of determination lit up in her eyes. 

Several happy years later, Maggie had kept her word. It had been ten wonderful years filled with merriment. Taehyung was not the man he was before. Maggie had softened his heart, and he was thankful for it. He accompanied her when she tended to the people in the slums, learning the art of medicine by her side. She even helped curb his bloodlust. Taehyung only fed on the people who were beyond help, or those who actively sought death. Maggie still didn’t like it, but of course that was out of her control. 

Taehyung’s arms were wrapped around Maggie as they admired their personal garden. It was a struggle at first, but they discovered that Taehyung had a godlike green thumb, and basically resurrected the plants back from the dead. With his guidance, Maggie was able to see her vision come true. 

One night, Taehyung had to leave the mansion for a few hours to meet with his business colleagues (he was a rather savvy businessman, being around for a couple hundred years does that to a person). Taehyung itched to return to Maggie’s side and barely paid attention to the meeting. She always claimed that she would be fine, it was only a couple hours after all. Even so, Taehyung worried about her. 

Finally the meeting was adjourned, and he was free to rush home. He found the front door unlocked upon his arrival. He gave the handle a quizzical look, he was sure that he had locked it. 

“Maggie? Where are you?” he called out. 

“Taehyung! Run away--” Maggie’s muffled scream came from the dining room. 

Two big men stood at either side of a tied up Maggie, who now had a black eye. One of the men held a knife to her throat, close enough to draw out an inkling of blood. 

“‘ello, Mr. Taehyung. Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” a third stout man with a thick cockney accent emerged from a corner of the room, “I’ll cut to the chase. You let us kill you, and the little missy gets to live. If you resist, she dies. Simple as that.”

“Who are you people? You’re making a huge mistake. I have connections all over the country that--”

“Spare us the horseshit. We know what you are, filthy vampyre,” the word rolled off the stout man’s tongue like a slur, “The VEC sent us. You know ‘em? Stands for ‘Vampyre Extermination Company’ it does. We’re the best they ‘av, so you might as well surrender now.”

“Oh you already know? Lovely, that saves me time,” Taehyung growled as he seemingly phased from where he stood over to Maggie (but vampyres can’t teleport, they just have super speed and can fly sometimes).

In the blink of an eye, he broke the neck of the man who held the knife and threw the other guy across the room. He quickly released Maggie, and hugged her tightly before returning to attack the intruders. He lifted the stout man by his neck and held him against the wall.

“You sure you’re the best? The VEC must be a pretty unsuccessful organization,” Taehyung taunted. 

“I told yous we should’ve just killed her in the first place and then ambushed him!” the stout man yelled to no one in particular. 

Taehyung sank his fangs into the man’s neck, before ripping out a piece. He was going to enjoy torturing him. It was what he deserved for harming his beloved Maggie. A gunshot went off, stopping Taehyung in the middle of his raging frenzy. 

Taehyung looked back in horror. Maggie held her bleeding stomach, sinking to the floor. The man he had thrown at the wall earlier was wielding a gun with a smirk on his face. Taehyung lost it. He ripped the assailant’s beating heart out from his chest.

He scrambled over to Maggie, cradling her in his arms. 

“That hurt,” she joked weakly.

“Shh, don’t speak. I have to get you to a doctor. I can carry you--”

“It’s too late. This wound is worse than most of what we’ve seen in the slums. I’m just sorry I have to leave you so soon,” a tear rolled down her cheek. 

“No! No please don’t leave me. There’s still time! I can turn you and we can be together forever,” Taehyung wept.

“You know I never wanted that. I’m sorry I’m being so selfish,” Maggie coughed  up blood, “I love you, Mr. Taehyung. Don’t ever forget that,” she said with her final breath. 

Taehyung held her until he saw the light leave her eyes. Anguish and sorrow filled his soul. He held her close and sobbed over her lifeless body. 

“You tricked her into lovin’ ya, eh? There’s no end to the wickedness of you bastards,” the stout man struggled to say as he drowned in his own blood.

Taehyung gently laid Maggie’s body on the floor and walked over to the stout man. He stepped on the man’s throat, crushing his windpipe and adding pressure to his gaping wound. The man’s eyes screamed in pain as Taehyung looked down at him blankly. 

“The VEC huh? I’ll remember that. I’ll see you in hell someday,” Taehyung spat as he trampled the man beneath him.  

Taehyung didn’t leave Maggie’s side for a week straight. He couldn’t bear to do anything; he didn’t want to admit that she was gone. His heart broke every time he saw her, but he couldn’t bring himself to move her. It wasn’t until her corpse was a bloated smelly mess that finally motivated Taehyung to move.

“I’m sorry I let you become this way, Miss Maggie,” Taehyung whispered as he carried the body out to the botanical garden. He buried her there, among her cherished plants. 

Taehyung fled his estate. The crime scene wasn’t discovered until a year later when his business associates came to check on him after he missed several meetings. 

Taehyung swore that he would never love again. Never open up again. And never ever, under any circumstances, interact with the VEC. As much as he wanted to tear the establishment apart, he knew Maggie would be against it. He couldn’t bear disappointing her, even in death.  

He settled down in a small unsuspecting town in a different country. He bought an abandoned property where he swore he’d live out the rest of his days quietly and peacefully. 

Published August 21st, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2019 Baepsaesbae.

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