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wroteasongabouther · 3 years

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can’t stand to see you lonely: part 1

a/n: oh my god guys it’s finally here!😬 i really hope i didn’t hype myself up too much and that you guys actually like it. overall i just wanted to put out a story that revolved around christmas and this is what i came up with! so without me babbling too much, i hope you enjoy part 1 of my new story and as always any feedback/reblogs are very much appreciated.

and of course, thank you to the lovely jess @arrogantstyles and jill @havethetimeofyourstyles for beta reading this part for me and giving this rusty old writer the help i needed lol

word count: 17k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, some sexual tension, and an over consumption of starbucks holiday drinks.

fic page // let’s chat // cstsyl playlist

“What floor?” Harry asks, eyes stuck on the many buttons in the elevator instead of seeing who had entered the small space with him. He can tell it’s a woman, and they smelt lovely.

“Six please,” her soft voice replies.

Harry looks over his shoulder in what he hopes is a smooth motion to get a quick peek at who was behind that sweet voice. Her eyes were squinting slightly as she smiles at him. She must be my new neighbour, he thinks as he hits the number six button and it lights up before the elevator begins to move. He steps back, standing in the opposite corner of the young woman. Harry assumes that she is maybe a few years younger than him, but one thing he knew for sure was that she was very pretty. He may even say she was stunning. She's all bundled up with a long coat and a thick scarf as he guesses she had just gone out for some shopping, judging by the few large white paper bags hanging off her arm.

“Did you just recently move in?” He questions, catching her eyes switching from gazing at the wall to his own instead.

She smiles again and nods, “yeah.”

“I thought I heard someone move in beside me,” he exclaims. He was certain that someone had moved in beside him. It caused him a bit of a headache hearing all the moving around. And then on top of that, his new neighbour had decided to get right to hammering in on the wall they shared. Little did he know, there was a determined and beautiful girl on the other side.

“Oh you’re my neighbour then?” She says, bringing Harry back from his memory of a few days ago.

“Harry,” he introduces himself, reaching a hand out into the space between them. She switches her Starbucks holiday cup into her other hand in order to shake his. Her hand is warm from holding the drink and it causes Harry's stomach to erupt with little bitty butterflies.

“Y/N,” she says in the same gentle voice as before. He wanted to hear her talk more. There was something about the soft tone of her voice, like he could listen to her speak into the late hours and early mornings and never once get tired of it. He blinks a few times and drops her hand at his intimate thought.

Harry didn't believe in love at first sight per say, but he was known to develop an infatuation of sorts very quickly. A crush as some would call it. Well, to be precise, Mitch teases him the most of his little crushes. There was that one time that Harry fumbled over his words over and over again when they had gone for dinner and had a rather attractive waitress, having asked for her number at the end of the night too. Mitch mocked him for days about it, asking if she had ever texted him back - she didn’t. And Harry didn’t even want to think about the time he spilled an entire blended margarita on his white vans when a certain handsome lifeguard had winked at him during their trip in LA last summer. Mitch still doesn’t let that incident go either.

The elevator doors open, and Harry gives her a smile and motions with a hand for her to walk out before he does. His mom must’ve raised him well, Y/N thinks at her new neighbours mannerisms. First holding the elevator for her, then offering to press the elevator button, and now letting her exit first. Suppose it was just minor things, but growing up in this lovely city that is New York meant she was used to the rudeness of people and sadly the simplest of gestures can make her heart beat just a bit faster in her chest.

“If you uh,” Harry pauses as Y/N stops at her front door but looks back at him as he speaks. Harry slows his steps to keep eye contact with her. “If you ever need anything, don’t feel shy to knock on my door.”

Y/N smiles again, nodding at his offer while she twists her key in the lock and opens her front door. Harry's walking backwards now, just a few steps to that same door he’s saying she can knock on. His eye contact is intense, but addicting, like every word she had to say to him mattered. His eyes are green, just green, nothing crazy and yet she found them very endearing. Would it be cliche of her to say she swore she saw them sparkle?

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you,” she says and before she can say anything else, she steps into her new apartment and shuts the door behind her.

Y/N finds herself standing there for a moment, remembering every word Harry had spoken to her as she slips out of her shoes. She then remembers his facial features while undoing her coat and hanging it up along with her scarf. The bit of facial hair he was sporting, how it seemed like it may have taken a while to grow so he kept it minimal. Or that little mole by his mouth, she even took note of that in their short time together. He had a cute nose too, she thinks. Harry takes up every inch of space in her mind for over an hour before she’s brought out of whatever dream state fog she was in. She lets out a deep breath and shakes her head a little before going about wrapping the presents she had bought earlier in the day while sipping her Christmas Starbucks drink, falling back in love with the holidays all over again.

“No, no, no, no,” Y/N groans as she twists and turns the knobs for her shower, and yet, nothing happens. Only a few drops fall to the tiled floor causing her to let out another string of curses. “This can not be happening,” she says.

But it was. Y/N’s hair was a mess, beyond greasy and a bit matted from her sleep last night. Not to mention she smelt like sweat from bringing up the box that held her new fake christmas tree this morning. She had been tempted to walk down the hall and knock on Harry's door, but she didn’t want to be annoying and fall into the stereotypes of the helpless young female living on her own for the first time. So instead she grabbed a cable knit sweater, tugged on her old dirty ugg boots, and went down in the elevator to meet with the Amazon delivery person. Little did she know that the box was way too tall for the elevator. So, she ended up bringing it up herself. All six flights of stairs, Y/N pulled and dragged that box up to her floor which caused her to break quite the sweat. Thankfully, it wasn’t so heavy, but she couldn’t help but think that she went through all of this just so she could get her new fake christmas tree up. Freaking fake! Not even a real one because apparently that wasn't allowed at her apartment building. Oh, how she was going to miss the smell of a fresh christmas tree. And oh, how she wanted to get rid of this disgusting smell of sweat she embodied now.

“Why me?” She winces, looking up at the ceiling and letting the glass door for her shower close as she gave up on the water magically appearing.

Is this the most appropriate time to not be shy and knock on Harry's door? Suddenly, her Apple watch vibrates, and she brings her arm up to see the reminder she had set before to tell her of the tight schedule she’s on for the day. With only 45 minutes left to get ready, she needed to get moving quickly. Y/N curses herself for wasting the past fifteen minutes on her phone, reading over her newest Instagram comments and aimlessly scrolling through her feed. So she tugs both sides of her purple robe that she had changed into anticipating a shower in her own home. Y/N pulls it tighter and ties the belt around her waist into a bow, and before she can give it a second thought, she’s out the door of her own apartment and starting down the hallway.

Harry didn’t know when he thought Y/N would eventually knock on his door. A part of Harry was hoping that she would have knocked sooner than a week later. But nonetheless, when there was a frantic knock on his door, he didn’t miss how his heart skips in his chest as he imagined Y/N standing on the other side. Peering through the peephole in his door he saw her standing there - in a bathrobe? Harry's brows pull together in confusion as he unlocks the door and heaves the door open.

“Is your water working?” She asks, her voice sounding as panicked as her knocking had been. But before Harry can answer she starts talking a million miles an minute. “Cause mine’s not, like not a single drop and I need to shower. So badly. And I know it’s probably super weird and rude of me to just bang on your door and ask to use your shower. Honestly, I can’t even believe I am but I am in such a hurry and I have the busiest day ahead of me with work and going to the-”

“Y/N,” Harry cuts her off abruptly. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and blinks up at him. “You need to use my shower? Is that what you’re getting at?”

Harry is a bit thrown off, not once did he think she’d come knocking for this reason. He glances down the hall awkwardly. He hopes that that noisy neighbour of theirs across the hall wasn’t peeping into their conversation, or seeing Y/N in this bathrobe. Mr Matthers can be a bit of a creep, Harry thinks. At the thought he hears a creak come from behind the door that’s across the hall.

She nods, “I know it’s like super strange to ask but mine is not working and I don’t have time to figure it out.” When Harry looks back at her, he notices she’s staring down at the ground between them, her eyes blinking rapidly as if she’s realizing what she’s gotten herself into. Harry didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable.

“S’alright, really, come in,” Harry says while opening the door to his apartment wider.

Y/N gives him a smile of appreciation before stepping into his home. The layout of Harry’s apartment is really just the opposite of hers, but the interior design he’s gone with is a lot better.

He’s gone for the classic monochrome look with blacks, white and greys. But with pops of colour where it matters, like a blanket over the back of his large L-shaped couch that looked handmade. She wonders if a family member made it, quite liking the light blues and pinks blended together. He’s got the same hardwood flooring like her own apartment and the plain off white paint on the walls - but with a few very unique paintings hung up on them. There’s two tall shelves, full of vinyls and novels and some picture frames too, that are on either side of his large flat screen tv which he took the time to hook up on the wall. It’s got a TV show paused on the screen, in her quick glance she can’t tell what show he was watching before she knocked but it looked like a cooking show. The corners of her lips twitch up into a smile at the thought of Harry being into cooking or baking maybe. He’s got a matching chair to his couch in the living room too that looks like she could fall asleep in it within a second. Overall it simply seems more grown up than her apartment - more put together and clean, that’s for sure.

To give her some credit, she has just moved in while she’s sure Harry’s been here for a while. Harry steps away from the door after locking it again, taking a few steps in order to be in her line of sight. With an arm thrown up, finger pointing down the hall, he gives Y/N another smile. He can’t help it, she looks rather adorable in that purple bathrobe. Was that all she was wearing? He thought to himself. He clears his throat as his mind goes on to imagine what’s under that plush purple material she’s wearing.

“Bathroom’s the first on the left,” he states, “did you bring your own soap or anything?”

“Honestly, no, I just kind of ran out of my place in quite a hurry and didn’t think twice as I got the sudden nerve to come over here.”

“Well, lucky for you I care about hair care, so there’s some good shampoos and even a nice hair oil to put into your hair afterwards when it’s damp. It’s in a small clear bottle with a white and gold label, by my toothbrush,” Harry explains. Y/N nods and starts towards the bathroom. With each step further into Harry’s home, she realizes what exactly she’s done. She can’t believe it really - just asking a complete stranger to let her shower in their home. She could be a murderer for all Harry knew, and he just opened his home up so freely. She steps into the bathroom, switching on the lights and the fan, she shuts the door and sighs. Lifting her arm up her Apple watch lights up to show the time. She had twenty minutes tops to shower, that’s all.

The bathroom is clean, very clean actually. Y/N lets her gaze wander around the space for a moment. There’s matching hand towels and all his skin and hair care are placed neatly on the small counter space too. She assumes he’s a bit of a neat freak. Turning to the shower, she opens the glass door gently and instantly reaches for the silver knobs. As she turns them water falls from the showerhead above her.

“Thank God,” she whispers while looking up at the water.

Y/N adjusts it to her preferred temperature and then she works on untying the knot of her robe. Words can’t describe how grateful she is that it held together in front of Harry. Him seeing her in the robe and with her hair in the state it’s in is embarrassing enough. Honestly, she can’t believe she even knocked on his door in it, and without any clothes to change into afterwards too. Stupid, she thinks while opening the glass door once more and stepping into the shower.

As Harry had said, there’s many bottles littering the built in shelves of the shower. Her fingers lazily turn the bottles so the labels face her. They’re all scented lavender of some sorts, helping with curly hair and volume. Well that explains why his hair looks so lovely, Y/N thinks as she opens a bottle of shampoo and squeezes it till a good amount falls into her other hand. As she hums ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ she lathers up her hair and massages her scalp. Rinsing it out after and then doing the same with the conditioner. While she lets the conditioner sit in her hair she scans the few other bottles on the shelves for a body wash. She didn’t want to come out of the shower smelling like a pre-teen boy, but she also did not want to smell like sweat. Goats milk and lavender infused, Y/N reads the label of what looks to do a locally owned product. She can’t help but smile as she reaches for it and pours some into her hands before rubbing it over her skin. There’s something so sweet knowing that Harry supports local businesses. He really doesn’t seem like the guys that Y/N is used to.

Three sharp knocks on the door startle Y/N, bringing her out of her day dreams. She quickly brings her arms up to her chest, trying to save herself some modesty if Harry did walk in. Because of course she didn’t think to lock the door. God, what if Harry is a murderer? Y/N thinks. She doesn’t know him, he could very well walk in here with a large kitchen knife and stab her multiple times in the chest while the water begins to run red and she dies right here all because she thought his dimpled smile and green eyes were enduring. Didn’t she learn anything from the whole Ted Bundy thing? Hello, hot guy doesn’t immediately mean nice!

“Y/N?” Harry calls out from the other side of the door, raising his voice just slightly so she could hear it over the running water. She shakes her head from her ridiculous thought - no more Criminal Minds at night for her, she takes the quick mental note.

“Yes?” She responds.

“I just realized I didn’t give you a towel,” he says, his voice sounding strained as he closes his eyes and tries to not imagine his neighbour naked in his shower. Harry’s fist tightens around the towel as his mind ignores him and thinks of how the water is dripping down her skin.

“Oh, yeah,” she breathes out. Looking around the bathroom beyond the foggy glass. There weren't any towels that she could see. Maybe they were under the sink.

“So I uh, I grabbed one for you. I can just open the door really fast and drop it in, I wouldn’t look in I swear, I’d face the hallway and just reach through,” he clarifies, “wait, you locked the door didn’t you?”

“Actually, I didn’t,” Y/N says, “so yeah just drop it in, please and thank you,”

Harry nods, regardless of the fact Y/N can’t see him. He takes a deep breath before turning the doorknob and opening the door just a crack. The towel doesn’t quite fit through, so he opens it a bit more. His eyes are on the towel as he makes sure it gets into the bathroom. He notices the steam pillowing in the small space and just before he looks the other way, he sees Y/N’s purple bathrobe on the floor. Only her purple bathrobe. Harry swallows and drops the towel to the floor and quickly shuts the door again. Y/N jumps at the sudden slam of the door, her heart having been beating out of her chest as she stood under the warm stream of water and listened to Harry deliver the towel.

He spins around and walks away from the bathroom in a brisk walk, making it to his kitchen in record time. He takes a few breaths and blinks at the view from his kitchen window above the sink. It’s beginning to snow. Something tells him this will excite Y/N - just a feeling he has. He hardly knows the girl and he’s been conjuring up versions of her in his head these past seven days. He’d heard her play music through the walls Tuesday night, he recognized the artist after a few moments. Van Morrison, one of his favourites. What were the odds? He had thought. But then he quickly shut that thought down because many people liked Van Morrison, and just because his very cute neighbour liked the same music he did, that didn’t mean she was meant for him.

Then on Thursday in the middle of the day he had seen her running across the street from his apartment. One thing he loved about his apartment facing the front of the building is how he got to see people coming and going. That day it looked as though she was carrying a take out bag from his favourite restaurant. Again, what were the odds that she liked the same place? But again, he had another hard conversation with himself saying that it was a rather popular place in this area and lots of people liked to go there. Y/N was still a stranger to him. A naked and attractive stranger who was in his bathroom right now.

Harry breathes in deeply and leans both hands at either side of his sink as he watches the large snowflakes fall over New York City. He still couldn’t believe he lived here sometimes. Having grown up in a rather small town in Northern England, where the most exciting thing was the bakery he used to work in as a young teen or maybe the fun graffiti on some of the walls downtown, living in NYC always seemed a bit unrealistic to think of. But this was always a dream of his. To be in one of the biggest cities in the United States and doing what he loved the most.

“It’s snowing?” Y/N’s voice full of irritation catches Harry off guard. He turns around to see her standing in the threshold between his kitchen and living room. That purple robe, which would be making an appearance in his dreams he’s sure of, is back on her now clean body while the towel he had given her is wrapped around her hair atop of her head.

“You don’t like the snow?” Harry questions, both of his brows raised high at how off he was about his instinct of her loving the snow.

“No, I mean, yes I do,” she shakes her head slightly, “I just don't like driving it in. New York drivers already freaking suck and the moment snow starts falling it’s like they forget how to drive altogether.” Y/N explains, crossing her arms at her chest.

“It’s the same in London, nearly got into a few accidents in my early years of driving thanks to it,” Harry reveals. Y/N smiles at the knowledge about himself he had let slip, regardless of how irrelevant it is.

“Anyways,” she sighs, “thank you for letting me barge in here and use your shower.”

“It’s no problem, really,” Harry assures her.

“No seriously, you saved me a lot of trouble.”

Harry’s chest swells at her words, mirroring her smile as he stuffs his hands into the front pocket of his trousers and leans back against the edge of the counter. Y/N takes this time to look over Harry’s outfit. He’s got on a cream collared ribbed t-shirt, a beaded necklace adorning his neck, a pair of brown pants that flare out and nearly hid his white sock covered feet. He doesn't dress like the men Y/N sees day to day. It's different, kind of old school, but she likes it. Suits him, she thinks, despite the fact that she barely knows him.

“You’ve got to drive somewhere?” Harry questions, unsure if he’s prying.

“Yeah, JFK unfortunately,” she frowns.

“That’s going to be a nightmare,” Harry says.

“Thanks for the reminder, yeah,” Y/N teases him while fighting back the smile pulling at her mouth.

“Sorry, I just meant that it’s sort of a long drive and airport terminals are a pain, that's all.”

“I’m just bugging you. It most definitely is going to be a nightmare,” Y/N agrees with a chuckle, “and I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry.” She adds while jabbing a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of her own apartment. Harry nods and notices how her robe’s a bit looser than before as she drops her arms and it falls a few inches down her shoulder - exposing more of her soft looking skin. Harry has to look away and walk towards his front door with Y/N before his imagination gets the best of him.

Harry unlocks the door and holds it open for Y/N to walk out of his home. He liked having her in his space. Harry internally curses himself for yet another intimate thought about his neighbour fogs up his mind. Just as she steps over the threshold of his apartment, Y/N spins on her heels quickly and reaches up with both hands to grab the twisted up towel around her hair. Harry nearly comes undone right then and there. The sight of her wet hair falling down effortlessly around her freshly washed face causes Harry’s mouth to feel dry suddenly. But as she makes the move to reach up, pulling it off of her head, and then holding out the towel in front of her, all of this causes her robe to fall even more off of her shoulders. Now both of her shoulders were fully exposed for him to see. Which Y/N notices right away and blushes, rushing to try and readjust herself, then only holding the towel with one hand while she bares her other arm over her chest to keep the robe from falling open completely.

“Nearly stole your towel,” Y/N breathes out.

She’s distracted by how her robe is slipping apart and how Harry’s eyes are falling with it. Harry clears his throat and takes the towel from her, giving her a chance to fix her robe, and he leans against his door for support as his head spins from the scene he has played out in his head. Her robe falling apart, seeing the swell of her breasts, how her nipples must look. He imagines they’re hard from the chill in the hallway, pebbling into little buds. Then he’s imagining how he’d pull her back into his apartment, kissing and touching all over her skin till she’s left breathless and begging for more.

“Thanks,” Harry says and drops his arm to hold the towel down at his side.

“I owe you one,” Y/N states, “for letting me use the shower,” she adds. She’s not sure what else he would think she’s talking about, but she just felt the need to clarify. And she really needed to get back to her own apartment and finish getting ready. “See you around, Harry,” she says with a smile before walking away and hurrying into her home.

Harry thinks of how he should've wished her a safe flight, or even said goodbye. But instead he heard her door shut and followed suit by closing his own. Harry walks into his living room - discarding the towel on the back of his large arm chair, before moving his acoustic guitar from where it was laying on his couch and taking a seat. He then reaches for his cell phone that was left on the coffee table. Opening his contact, he finds the building's maintenance number and calls them.

“Hey Phil, how are you doing?... Good, I’m good yeah, uh, I’m just calling because the water in 602 isn’t working...Yeah Y/N, she actually had to leave in a bit of a rush, so I just wanted to make sure someone got in there as soon as possible to check it out,” Harry explains the situation to the building’s head maintenance man. “I’m not entirely sure when she’ll be back home, maybe you could give her a quick call and double check... Just being a friendly neighbour, Phil… Thanks Phil, have a good day and say hi to Georgia and the kids for me… Bye.”

Harry hangs up the phone and sets it back down onto the table, looking at the open notebook beside it. He hadn’t written anything all morning. Just had a few good cords stuck in his head. Harry picks up the guitar once more and plays the cords.

“Tangled wet hair, soft silk skin, looking so good it should be a sin,” Harry sings softly. It’s not his best and it’s not even that good, if he’s honest with himself. But it seems that Y/N sparked some inspiration inside of him. He grabs his pen, and starts scribbling down the words that now flow through his mind. Finishing with writing ‘Plush Purple Robe’ in capital letters before dropping the pen and going back to strumming the guitar.

He wrote nearly an entire song, thanks to how Y/N looked in that damn bathrobe standing in his apartment, and he just knew this would result in some teasing words from his friends when he brought it into their studio session next week.

Y/N was tired and her third Starbucks of the day wasn’t helping her out at all. She brings a hand up to cover yet another yawn that escapes her. Her eyes feel heavy, drooping as she blinks slowly a few times at her screen. She feels as though she might doze off if it wasn’t for the loud bang of the mail cart smacking against the elevator doors signalling it’s arrival for the day. It jolts her upright once again and she takes another big gulp of coffee, and sends a prayer up above, before she begins clicking away again at her laptop trying to finalize her schedule for the upcoming month of December.

Fittings, photoshoots, buyers meetings, and more fittings, there was rarely any free time in the first two weeks of the month. But thankfully her boss isn’t a complete Grinch and gave her minimal work during the last two weeks. Plus Y/N really did love her job. She lived for the magic world of fashion. The way her bustling office just meant that the designer’s creations were coming to life as A list celebrities and New York's elite fell in love with the pieces she’s gone through lengths to get for them.

She also loved Christmas just as much, if not more, as her job. Even thinking about everything she was looking forward to this holiday season made her feel all giddy inside now. Growing up in the city meant she knew the thrill of skating in Central Park and seeing the Rockefeller Christmas tree being lit up. Her smile was as bright as the lights. She loved going to the annual Christmas markets that were held; walking around with hot chocolate in her hands as she browsed the many homemade soaps and ornaments, and even clothing too. Y/N even enjoyed shopping at the Macy’s down the street and gasping at their holiday displays, and found herself buying a few too many decorations for her home while there. Over the past few days - with any free time she had off work - she had gone into full blown decorating mode in her apartment. It was like Santa’s village and it filled her with so much joy as she set everything into its rightful place in her new home, smiling from ear to ear at the twinkling lights and tinsel lining the perimeter of every room.

“Earth to Y/N,” her co-worker, Sammy, sings while leaning back in his desk chair to try and make eye contact with her.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, zoning back into reality and turning her own chair away from her desk that was up against the large floor to ceiling windows.

“Daydreaming about that hot new neighbour of yours?” Sammy teases her with a smug look on his face. Y/N rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest.

“No, I was not,” she says, “I’m regretting telling you about him already,” she adds. Sammy returns the eye roll.

“There’s no shame in having some eye candy as a neighbour you know,”

“Yeah there is when-“

“Y/N!” Her name suddenly being yelled across the room cuts her sentence off and makes Sammy and herself look over to where it came from. They both see their boss, Amanda, standing in the doorway of her office with both hands up in the air and a look of annoyance across her face. Y/N’s watch vibrates just on time to remind her of her meeting with Amanda. She’s always at least five minutes early; suppose daydreaming about the holidays - not her hot new neighbour - had put her behind schedule a bit.

“Better not keep her waiting,” Sammy says as he rolls his chair back over to his own desk while Y/N closes her laptop, taking it and a notebook with her quickly before slipping her feet back into her black heels. She always took them off when she sat at her desk to give her poor feet a break. As she broke into a speed walk across the office space, nearly avoiding the mail cart, she internally went over what today's meeting entailed.

“Sorry Amanda,” Y/N apologizes as she steps into the office, closing the glass door behind her quietly.

“It’s alright, you’re rarely even a few minutes behind that schedule of yours, so I was more surprised than anything,” Amanda states as she smooths her dress out and takes a seat at her desk. Y/N takes a seat in the chair across her desk, setting her laptop on her lap and then the notebook on top of it while she keeps her favourite pen in hand. It had a cheesy Christmas sweater snowflake pattern on it, which Y/N had bought a whole set for her and Sammy at Target last week.

“I wanted to quickly talk about your time with Miss Woods a couple days ago,” Amanda says, referring to one of the clients from North Carolina that had visited recently. “She said you showed her great hospitality and were a true New Yorker in her eyes, her words exactly.” Amanda gives Y/N a proud smile. “So, great job. She ended up purchasing those Gucci purses we had bought in hopes she’d like them even though she didn't ask for them. All thanks to you putting her in such a good mood, really.”

“Well she was a blast to be around, age really didn't slow her down,” Y/N and Amanda share a laugh. “She turned up my radio every time we got in my car, ordered doubles at dinner and brunch, and even talked about boy issues with me. It was a great time,” Y/N explains while adjusting herself in her seat and crossing a leg over the other casually.

“I think it’s your energy. Your love for this city can be infectious sometimes Y/N,” Amanda says. Y/N’s lips pull up into a smile at her words, they made her feel warm inside.

“Thank you,” she says softly with a nod.

“Now, onto what’s happening over this next week, let’s see how our schedules look,” Amanda starts as she opens her large planner than was always either on her desk or brought home in her large Louis Vuitton purse.

“I got an email from the lovely Mrs. Archibald this morning,” Y/N states. Amanda shakes her head as her face twists up at the mention of one of their bigger clients who happens to be married to the richest man in New York City. It’s just too bad she’s a real bitch sometimes because her attitude could make doing their job a bit harder at times. But Amanda and Y/N loved a challenge, and Mrs Archibald was just that. “She has a last minute dinner party tomorrow and she needs the newest item from Gucci that we can find immediately,” Y/N explains.

“Shit, our new stuff from Gucci doesn’t come in till next Monday,” Amanda curses, eyes roaming around her desk as if the answer to her problem would pop up somewhere.

“I know, which is why I went ahead and called Greg at the store on Fifth and Fiftieth, he said they just got a handful of exclusive holiday pieces early and would gladly have one of us pick a couple items up for Mrs Archibald,” Y/N says. Amanda’s sour look fades instantly and is replaced with a wide smile.

“What would I do without you, honestly!” Amanda exclaims. “Head over to Gucci after lunch today, and then we’ll get Mrs Archibald in first thing tomorrow.”

“Will do,” Y/N says while jotting down her after lunch plans onto a blank page in her notebook.

“How’s your influencer work going for you?” Amanda asks, her eyes on her planner in front of her instead.

“It’s been good, getting closer to five hundred thousand every day. I think the holidays will push me over the mark soon enough,” Y/N states.

“Great, make sure you’re getting close up shots of the dresses Greg shows you. Tease the people of what an exclusive holiday gown looks like,” Amanda suggests. Y/N smiles and jots down the note.

Having an audience was never the goal for Y/N. In fact, she thought of suspending her Instagram account all together once she got the promotion at work. She was worried that it would cause a conflict of interest, but Amanda and the rest of the team saw it as a plus. Having so many people follow Y/N’s life, being interested in what she’s interested in, wanting to get their hands on what she had, all lead to good publicity for the company. It even got them a few A list celebrities because of her account as they saw the company’s name in her bio, which led to contacting the company about setting some fittings up.

And with that set up, they settle into the rest of their itinerary for the week, making note of who needed to be involved with what, and who would be coming into their offices. Jennifer freaking Aniston was scheduled for a fitting this Friday and Y/N was praying she made it back from picking up an order of Louis Vuitton scarfs in time to see her in her custom grown that their team's seamstresses had been working tirelessly on with Prada’s team.

By the end of her and Amanda’s meeting, it was time for lunch. Sammy was waiting by her desk with his black Gucci backpack in hand that Y/N was sure held a Kardashian sized salad. Y/N was glad she meal-prepped teriyaki chicken and rice, so she didn’t have to eat yet another salad seeing as Sammy had gotten her into the over sized salad eating last month; she’s had enough of it.

“I’ve gotta head over to Gucci on Fifth Ave after,” Y/N states with a smile as her and Sammy walk into the conference room that they used for lunch sometimes, shielding themselves away from work a bit - even if the walls were glass and they could still see everyone working around them.

“Lucky bitch,” Sammy grumbles, “Greg always hooks you up with some free pieces when you go there, I swear.”

“Hey it’s only been a few items, nothing crazy,” Y/N defends herself before taking a bite of her lunch.

“Oh I’m sorry, two rings and a pair of tights are nothing crazy? Every other influencer would kill someone for those tights. Firstly, they’re so cute. And secondly, those rings cost my monthly rent.”

“I’m not complaining about any work perks. Maybe you could come with and get to know Greg a bit and get your own ring or two?”

Sammy chews his mouth full of salad, “no thanks, it’s so freaking cold out there. I’ll stay inside where it’s warm,” he says.

“Then don’t complain when I get another pair of tights and you don’t,” Y/N scowls playfully.

“I’d look so much better in those tights, you can’t even deny it,” Sammy says and pokes his fork at Y/N. She raises her hands up in surrender.

“Oh I wouldn’t dare to deny it, ever,” she smiles. They eat a few bites in silence. Y/N starts to feel a bit more energized by the protein she’s eating, thankfully. She now had a long journey to the Gucci store and back as well as a ton of emails to filter through too - which she’s sure will follow her home till the late hours of the night.

“What are you planning to wear for the Christmas office party?” Sammy chimes in, his eyes still on his phone.

“I don’t even know,” Y/N sighs and brings up her Pinterest app on her phone. “I found this outfit and am dying over it every day but I really should just find something in my closet and restyle it, I'm getting more broke by the day.”

“Blame your excessive christmas shopping habits,” Sammy deadpans while glancing at her phone screen.

“I’m aware of why I'm broke, thank you,” she deadpans back, narrowing her eyes at him. “Maybe Greg will have it in his heart to lend me a special piece for the party,” Y/N taunts Sammy with a smile on her face.

“Shut up,” he groans. Y/N laughs and is just about to shut her phone screen off when a phone call comes through from her apartment building maintenance.

“Hello?” She answers. “Hi Phil… Oh that’s awesome news thank you so much for getting it fixed so soon… Yes, I’m glad Harry called in about it right away too…” Y/N notices how her friend's eyebrows fly up at the mention of Harry’s name. “Lovely, thanks again Phil… Have a great day… Bye,” she hangs up the phone and sets it on the table in front of her.

“What did Harry do now?” Sammy questions without a second to spare. Y/N rolls her eyes, but can’t stop herself as she smiles.

“He called in about the water in my apartment like right after I made a mad dash out of his place to go pick up Mrs Woods in time. I hadn't even thought of calling about it and then I got a call on my way to the airport from the head maintenance guy saying Harry told him about it and asked for verbal permission to enter my apartment while I was out,” Y/N explains to him. She was still shocked by Harry’s kindness. Not only did he offer his shower to her, but he then got hers check out that same day. She probably wouldn't have called about it till the next day, if she was lucky to have any free time to stop by her house between entertaining Mrs Woods.

“What a neighbourly thing to do,” Sammy says smugly.

“Shut up, he’s just a nice guy.”

“Mhmm,” Sammy hums while stabbing his salad again for another bite.

The two of them continue to enjoy their lunch break and catch up on what’s been going on in the office. Their fellow associate Kate was trying to sleep with the mail cart boy. He seems freshly twenty one, if that. Just seven years younger than Kate, but she’s a well known cougar - it’s been a thing for, like, two years now. And Julianne was sick again, for the third time in two months. That was the extent of the office drama, sadly. Y/N packs up her bag with her left over lunch, notebook, and laptop before heading back to her desk with Sammy to get her coat and bundle up to brace the cold weather.

At least it wasn’t snowing.

The snow is coming down like a blizzard, making it hard for Harry to see in front of him. It was a colder day, his weather app had called for cloudy skies and a chance of some light flurries - but that all changed in a split second and had Harry racing home from the coffee shop a few blocks away. He’s just praying his notebook full of new song ideas, based off his people watching this afternoon that’s now in his tote bag, doesn't get wet in the short trip he has to walk. Just as he’s about to turn left down the last block till his building, he sees a young woman struggling to walk along the sidewalk in her heels just in front of him. She’s carrying a large beige garment bag, having it folded over her arm as she tries to maneuver around the busy sidewalk and everyone is rushing to get out of the storm. Harry’s just behind her now, that’s when he recognizes the jacket and scarf.

“Y/N?” Harry says, trying to not startle her. But of course, as Y/N turns around to look behind her at whoever had just called out her name on the busy streets of New York, she slips.

“Oh my god!” She squeals, trying to keep the garment bag up so it doesn’t damage the dresses inside, but that means she doesn’t have any hands to throw out to catch herself. Harry sees her begin to fall and reaches out without hesitation. “The bag,” she says, trying to get Harry’s attention to saving the garment bag rather than her. But of course he manages to wrap his arms under hers and hold her upright, standing straight to get her back on her feet once more.

“Shit, I’m sorry, shouldn’t have scared you like that,” Harry says.

Y/N squints at him through the thick snowflakes, he’s standing so close though that she doesn’t have troubles staring into his enchanting eyes. She smiles, adjusting the dresses and her bag before motioning to their apartment building only a couple blocks away. “Let’s get out of this snow storm,” she suggests.

“Right,” Harry agrees and lets her start the walk - that way he can stick close behind in case those death heels of hers cause her to slip again.

Y/N regrets her decision of wearing heels so much right now. She’s sure her cheeks are still red from embarrassment of nearly falling on her ass in front of so many people. Harry’s seen in her purple bathrobe, which is already embarrassing, but falling in heels in this snow storm would’ve only added to her list of making a fool of herself in front of him.

When she arrived at Gucci it was just cloudy, but then after nearly two hours inside the store - mostly chatting with Greg and his associates, she walked outside into the blizzard. Her office was too far of a walk, she knew getting a cab or an Uber during the storm would just be a nightmare and she didn’t want to wait around. There was no way she was going to risk taking the subway while carrying the garment bag that said Gucci right on it and have some lowlife steal thousands of dollars of designer clothes from her. So, she went with the most obvious option of getting these pieces out of the snow storm and headed to her apartment building that was only a few blocks away, thankfully.

“Thanks for saving me back there,” Y/N says with a sigh as Harry uses his key to let them into the building. They both brush the snow off themselves as they walk across the lobby and to the elevator. “I would've been dead if this fell into a puddle or something,” she states while lifting the garment bag.

“Does that say Gucci?” Harry asks, eyebrows raised as he looks at the label on the bag.

“Yeah, I just had to pick up a few things for work,” Y/N explains vaguely. Harry has followed Gucci on Instagram for years, he loves their pieces and finds what they make to be so wonderful. He wishes he had the money to spend on a shopping trip there and yet here is his neighbour - who he may or may not be crushing on - with a large garment bag with Gucci items inside. “I can’t even imagine what Mrs Archibald would've done if I messed these up, god she'd have a fit,” Y/N says with a chuckle, looking at the floors lighting up as the elevator moved.

“Your boss?” Harry questions.

“No, a client, super rich and super bitchy,” Y/N answers, emphasizing both times she says super to really get her point across. She moves the garment bag from one arm to the other, leaning back against the elevator wall.

“Client? What kind of work do you do?” Harry tries to ask casually, not trying to seem creepy or invading in any way.

Y/N smiles, “I’m a part of the, oh so lovely, fashion industry.”

“You don’t like it?” Harry questions, eyebrows furrowed together.

“No, I do,” she corrects him.

The elevator opens then, Harry motions for Y/N to exit first as he had before. She smiles and walks down the hall to her apartment. Just as she fishes her keys from her coat pocket she turns back and looks at Harry when he walks past her. “I owe you, again, for saving my ass, literally from falling,” she says. Harry stops walking and looks at her, she smiles and tilts her head to the side. “And for calling the maintenance guy for the issues with my water,” she adds. Seems Phil spilled the beans, Harry thinks.

“I um, I wasn’t sure how long your trip was, and I just thought it’d be the nice thing to do by making sure they could get it fixed as soon as they could,” Harry explains.

“I actually didn’t go on a trip, I just had to pick someone up from the airport. But regardless it was very nice to know you thought of it for me. So thank you, I owe you, Harry,” she says again, giving him yet another one of her dreamy smiles. Harry’s heart did a little pitter patter in his chest as he looked over her face, taking in how her wispy hairs were wet from the snow that had melted on her head and how her eyes seemed to sparkle under the dim lighting of the hallway. But her lips, he’s been imagining those lips for two days now. Along with that purple bathrobe being on his floor again - his bedroom instead of the bathroom though.

“How about dinner?” Harry blurts out. Y/N had turned back to her door, having it unlocked and open as he had fallen into one of his daydreams about her. She pauses mid step and looks back at where he had stood still, her eyebrows are furrowed together as she thinks he misheard him. Oh shit, abort! Abort! Backtrack and say nevermind before she flat out rejects you, Harry thinks while he waits for her response.

“I, uh, I,” Y/N stops her stuttering and closing her eyes for a moment. She lets out a sigh and opens her eyes again to meet his nervous stare. “I have to hang this up, and change these shoes first,” she says.

“Of course,” Harry nods.

Y/N ponders over it for a moment before coming to the realization that the weather outside was truly frightful and they shouldn’t go out anywhere. “Honestly we shouldn’t go back out there. What if I just ordered something in and you came over? You like pizza?”

“Love it,” Harry smiles. Y/N nods and opens her door further, stepping in to survey the state of her apartment. It’s not messy, thank God. She had time this morning to put away her clean laundry that had taken up her couch over the past few days. There’s a couple hoodies draped over the back of the couch though, a half full glass of water on the coffee table and her kitchen has a pile of dirty dishes beside the sink that she hadn’t gotten to putting in the dishwasher yet. She quickly bends down to put away the few pairs of shoes that were kicked off in whatever direction they went, and turns on the two light switches by the door to light up her living room and hallway.

“Well, come on in,” she says as she turns back to Harry. He smiles as she lets out a deep breath and opens her front door for him.

He should’ve guessed that it would look like Santa had thrown up in her apartment. It was traditional, which Harry loved opposed to the new all white or all gold themes some people went with, but there was a lot of it. A red and green checkered throw blanket over the back of her grey couch, a decent sized tree filled with lights and tinsel and ornaments that all matched, a family of snowmen in one corner of her living room, and many little vintage looking nicknacks along her tv stand, and few shelves around the space. Not to mention the priceless looking tiny christmas village that was set up on top of the desk by her front door, fake snow laid on top to really pull it all together. So much Christmas, and he was only looking in one room. He imagined this festive feeling went throughout her entire home.

“It kind of seems like a lot whenever someone new sees all of my Christmas crap,” Y/N says, breaking Harry’s stare away from her living room and back to her now. She had hung up the Gucci bag on the closet door to her left, and had slipped out of her shoes and was now undoing the buttons of her coat. Her eyes are on the decorations around them though, looking unsure as she takes it all in.

“It’s lovely, honestly, not crap at all,” Harry assures her. Y/N turns back to look at him and mirrors his smile.

“I just have a big soft spot for the holidays, I can’t help myself from buying four Christmas themed throw pillows if they make me feel all warm inside,” she explains, motioning to the couch that did in fact have four pillows on it.

“If it makes you happy, you don’t have to have any reason for buying ‘em.”

“I suppose so,” Y/N hums, finally taking off her coat and hanging it up.

Harry quickly takes his off too as she reaches for it, to hang it beside hers. He gives her a small thanks and then takes his shoes off, setting them beside hers . Y/N has walked into the threshold to the left that led to her kitchen. He notices the tinsel hanging from the beam and smiles before taking a quick peek into her kitchen. As he guessed, it’s all decked out in Christmas stuff too. Towels and nicknacks that seem to replace everyday things like salt and pepper shakers and her soap dispenser that was spaced like a snowman.

“I’ll order a pizza right away. Hopefully this weather won’t slow them down. Have you ever eaten at Sal’s down the street?” Y/N questions.

“Tons,” Harry says. He leans against the threshold to the kitchen and watches as Y/N sets her purse on her small kitchen table and fishes through it for her cell phone. She’s got this crease between her brows as she can’t seem to find it, but it instantly goes away and is replaced with a smile as the iPhone is in her hands.

“Do you like anything on your pizza?” She asks, eyes on her phone screen and she brings up the menu. She typically just gets a cheese, sometimes spices it up with a vegetarian pizza cause she likes the green peppers and red onions.

“I’m actually a vegetarian,” Harry states. “Well, I eat fish on occasion so I guess I’m a pescetarian.”

“Oh cool,” Y/N says, looking up to see Harry’s watching her from the space between her kitchen and living room. The way he’s leaning against the small space of wall, arms crossed at his chest and head tilted to the side - he looks good. He’s dressed in a pair of beige trousers, straight and baggy as his last ones were too, and has a white tank top tucked into the waistband while he layered with a fun patterned button up shirt. She can’t quite make out what is printed on the shirt, but the little squares seem to each have a picture in them.

“Where did you get that shirt?” Y/N can’t stop herself from asking, the fashion lover in her wanting to know.

Harry glances down at the short sleeved shirt on his body, then shrugs, “I think I thrifted it back home in England a few years back,” he says.

“I like it,” she says, then brings up one shoulder in a shrug to make it seem more casual. It’s not weird to compliment your neighbours clothing, Y/N thinks as she glances back down at her phone. “I’m going to order a cheese and they have a great vegetarian pizza too that I like,” she tells Harry while punching in her order on her delivery app.

“Yeah, I’ve had it before, it’s pretty great,” Harry agrees. Y/N can’t help as her body reacts to how low and slow Harry’s voice is. How she gets small chills throughout her body, as if threatening to pebble goosebumps along her arms, and how her mind feels foggy almost as she listens to him speak. She rolls her lips into her mouth and stuffs her phone into the pocket of her fitted black pants. He could tell her the most pointless story and she would let him, just to hear his voice and that accent that went with it. Moving to her fridge, she finds the bottle of red she had opened last night. It’s such a normal thing for her to have a glass or two after work that she doesn’t even think of her guest. He might not even like wine.

“Do you drink?” Y/N asks, looking over her shoulder to see Harry still in the same spot but his hands now in the front pocket of his trousers.

“What are we drinking?” He asks with a smile.

Y/N smiles back, as she always does, and reaches for the wine she had her eye on. “I opened this bottle of wine last night, it’s red. Would you be interested in a glass?” She asks, holding the bottle up for Harry to see.

“I’d love a glass, thanks.”

“Perfect,” Y/N nods and sets the bottle down on the counter beside her fridge. “You can get comfortable on the couch, I’ll bring our drinks in a moment.”

“Sounds good,” Harry nods. With one final glance up her body as she reaches high in her cupboard for two wine glasses for them, he shakes his head and turns around. He has to stop checking her out, he has no idea if she’s into him or not. She’s simply being a nice neighbour, and here he was, fancying her so much he’s checking her out like some horny teenager.

Harry runs a hand through his hair, walking around the back of the couch to take a seat on the corner furthest from where the Christmas tree lit up Y/N’s living room. He really did like all of her joy that she’s put into decorating her home. There’s no doubting her love for the holiday, not a single space feels like it was forgotten as she must have spent all day setting it up. He especially liked the framed photo on the side table to his right, where there was also a rather plain lamp and a Santa spaced coaster too. Inside the frame was a small child who he knew immediately was Y/N. There was no mistaking that smile of hers even at such a young age. She’s sitting on a man’s lap, a man dressed as Santa, but it’s truly the most realistic mall Santa he’s even seen. Harry thinks back to his home in that moment, imagining the many photos of him and his older sister with many variations of mall Santas that must be littering his mum’s house by now. Truthfully, many of them didn’t leave the shelves during the year.

“Here you go,” Y/N says as she holds out a wine glass nearly half full of red wine to Harry. He takes it from her, his fingers brushing hers for a moment and sending those childish tingles through his body.

“Thanks,” he nods and brings the glass to his lips to have a taste. If he wouldn’t be so infatuated by Y/N, he would have told her that he typically didn’t drink red wine. He typically doesn’t drink at all, except for the occasional night out with his mates. But he saw that look on her face that said ‘I need a glass or two’ and he couldn’t say no, knowing it’d make her feel awkward and end up not having a glass herself.

Y/N lets out a long sigh as she takes a seat on the other side of the couch, relaxing alongside Harry as if they aren’t complete strangers. He liked that she felt comfortable around him. She did in fact enter his apartment the other day in a bathrobe and use his shower after all. After she takes another long sip of wine, she sets it down on a matching Santa coaster that sits on the coffee table - Harry notices now that she had brought the bottle of wine with her too.

“Long day?” He questions. Y/N nods, tucking her legs under her as she gets comfortable on the couch beside him. She clears her throat softly before answering him.

“Uh, yeah, work’s just been a lot lately and I’m actually looking forward to some time off,” Y/N says, running a hand through her hair, and then leans her arm on the back of the couch. Harry watches her movements, bringing his glass of wine to his lips to have a small sip, which he notices she watches him do. He likes her eyes on his lips, he thinks before turning his body slightly and setting his wine on the side table. When he turns back and looks her way he notices the slightly tint of pink flushing over her cheeks. Harry fights the tug at his lips to smile at how she seemed to catch on that he caught her staring at his lips.

“That’s always the worst, feeling as if you’re counting down till the days off,” Harry exclaims.

“I typically don’t, to be honest. I love my job,” Y/N states. “It’s my career so I better,” she adds with a chuckle.

“So you’ve already found your career at such a young age then, that’s awesome. Have you always known you wanted to be involved in the fashion industry?” Harry asks, his eyebrows pulled together as he does find himself very curious of how she herself a career so young.

“First off, twenty four is really starting to not feel young anymore so let's not label me as a youngster or anything alright-“

“Um, twenty four is young but okay,” Harry cuts her off with a playful look on his face. Y/N rolls her eyes and chooses to ignore his teasing. He’s always hung out around people older than him and typically dated women older too. But Y/N doesn't seem young. From what he’s seen from her, she doesn’t fit the mold of any twenty four year olds he’s known before - most being rather rude and partying their youth away while it’s obvious that Y/N worked hard during those years. Y/N looks as though she's got the whole world figured out already, and he admires that a lot.

“And secondly, yeah, I guess I sort of did know, not at first, of course, but it was always an interest of mine,” Y/N states, bringing Harry back to their conversation.

“What did you want to be when you were a youngster then?” He questions, using her choice of words back at her which makes Y/N chuckle. She shakes her head and looks up at the ceiling for a moment as she falls back into memories of her childhood. She remembers being emotionally attached to a pair of plastic pink princess slippers and how she slept in her matching tiara for nearly a year before her mom put a stop to her fantasy.

“I wanted to be a princess-“

“Me too,” Harry says.

“Stop interrupting me,” Y/N laughs and reaches across the couch to smack his arm. Harry's head feels light, his cheeks hurt from grinning at Y/N so much. He hasn’t felt like this in quite a while. Being able to have a light conversion with a pretty girl. How she makes him smile and laugh so easily too, it’s a really nice feeling. “But you’d make a much prettier princess for sure-“

“Not at all,'' Harry disagrees, managing to cut her off yet again. She glares at him but can’t help the smile that's still on her face.

“Anyways, I wanted to be a princess and then I wanted to be one of Santa’s elves-”

Harry chuckles, “of course,” he says as he’s not so surprised to hear her say so - seeing as it looked like Santa’s village inside her apartment.

Y/N chooses to ignore his short interruption this time and continues on. “But then as I got older and got ahold of the internet, I wanted to be a model cause I thought it was the most glamorous thing, but I wasn't as beautiful or skinny as Candice Swanepoel so that was out of the question-“

“This is the last time I'll interrupt you I promise,” Harry says, Y/N presses her lips tight together and gives Harry another look as if to say yeah right. “But I cannot let you sit here and say you aren't pretty or skinny enough to be a model, Y/N, because you are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen and your weight is nothing to ever question,” Harry pauses as he looks down at the sofa between them, realizing that he had said all that out loud. He was slightly embarrassed as he’s not sure how she’d take her neighbour saying all that to her.

My heart needs to calm down like now, Y/N thinks as she wets her lips and fidgets with her own hands as she watches Harry. “Y/N, don’t ever think less of yourself,” he adds in a gentle voice that sends chills down her spine.

Y/N doesn't respond right away, because honestly she's speechless. No one has ever said something so kind and so genuine to her. Sure, she’s gotten compliments from people, but the way Harry immediately stopped her from talking poorly of herself had made her stomach stir and her heart race. They had only just met, only had a few interactions - they were all good, great even - but Harry wasn’t like most people she’s met before and she’s beginning to realize that. She looks up to see Harry's watching her, his green eyes staring back at hers. Something switches in the air between them as Harry feels like he should lean in. Should he lean in? Would she want that? Does she want him?

“Thanks,” she smiles, bringing Harry back to their conversation. She clears her throat and sits up straight again, flipping her hair over her shoulders and snuggling into the couch some more. “If I ever feel down about myself again, I’ll be sure to knock on your door and demand you shower me in compliments,” Y/N teases.

“I’d be honoured to,” Harry says. There's another beat of silence, but it's not quiet inside his head. All he’s thinking about is how he should've made a move. She felt it too, right? Harry stops himself before he can go too far inside his head again while thinking about Y/N. “I won’t cut in again. Continue from the dreams of being a model - which you’d be a great model, by the way, don't count that one out just yet.”

Y/N smiles again, not even sure if she’s stopped smiling honestly. “Right, well, modeling led me into the world of fashion. Not that I hadn't known about Vogue or any of the high fashion houses since I did grow up in New York; fashion week had always been a highlight for me. But I actually started to look into the other sides of it. Designing wasn't an option, I just didn't feel original enough. So I did some personal assistant stuff during my high school years at fashion week, working behind the scenes at shows.”

Y/N pauses to lean forward and grabs her glass of wine again, needing liquid to coax her throat before she continued. Harry noticed that she was talking so passionately, probably not even realizing how much she was using her hands while speaking or how her eyes lit up at the world she painted for him. “And then I got a scholarship into FIT, the Fashion Institute of Technology. I was lucky enough to get an internship at my current workplace but quickly got offered a position on my graduation day, and now I'm one of our senior associates.”

“And what does your job really entitled to exactly?”

“We do a lot of things, but we’re really a personal shopper and stylist company. Working with many of New York's elite, even some of the east coast’s elite really, as well as celebrities too, which is always fun to see the dress you styled at the Met Gala or the Grammys. I just do a lot of running around, it feels like,” Y/N explains, “like how I had to rush to the Gucci store on Fifth Ave in order to get some pieces for Mrs. Achibald for tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds like a real tough job,” Harry taunts. Y/N returns his smug look and narrows her eyes at him playfully.

“Right, well what do you do then? You always seem to be home, I’m starting to think you don’t even have a job. Maybe you’ve just got a sugar daddy, hmm?” Y/N jokes. Harry lets out a loud laugh, throwing his head back. Y/N laughs with him before taking a sip of her wine that she had almost forgotten about.

“Definitely not a sugar baby, although that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, totally,” Y/N nods in agreement. They both chuckle again. Harry reaches for his wine to take a sip before answering her question for real this time. Blame the wine, he thinks, for any longing looks or laughing too much at her jokes just blame the red wine in his glass.

“I’m actually in the music industry, kind of,” Harry states.

“How are you kind of in the music industry?” Y/N questions curiously, her brows pulled together as she takes another sip of wine.

“I am a studio rat, as people in the industry would call it,” Harry says, Y/N’s face scrunches up at his words utterly confused at the term. “I pretty much live in music studios most of the year. Most of my time is taken up by writing. So I guess I’m a songwriter, but I also make demos for my songs with a few people I’ve grown close with in my studio, so I end up doing some instruments for artists' studio versions of songs. I do a bit of producing too, but I mostly leave that to my buddy, Tom.”

“Wow, that sounds like a really cool job. And here I was jabbering on about my job when you’re a songwriter? That’s so cool,” Y/N repeats, another sip of wine going down her throat as she stares at Harry. His cheeks are starting to turn red, eyes avoiding hers as he fidgets with his rings. “Have you written any songs I’d know?” She asks, trying to get more information out of him.

“Maybe,” Harry shrugs.

“You’re not going to tell me?” Y/N asks, brows pulled together.

“Nope,” Harry shakes his head.

“Shouldn’t you be proud of your work?”

“Of course I am,” Harry says, bringing a crooked finger up to his nose before rubbing it twice. “I just know that my music might not be everyone's favourite.”

Since the beginning of his freelance songwriting career, Harry's always been nervous to show people what he’s poured his heart and soul into, especially to people he’s friends with, or people he likes. What if they hated it? He couldn’t bear listening to the fake “it's great” with an even faker smile. Although he knows people do like his songs, those people were mainly artists that bought his songs and their fans, of course, along with his fellow colleagues. He just doesn't want Y/N to hate his work.

“Well, I'm sure it's brilliant,” Y/N says. “And maybe one day you’ll show me.” She adds with a smile, not wanting to force the subject, over the rim of her wine glass before taking another sip and finishing off the red liquid in one small gulp. She frowns at the empty glass and sets it down on the Santa coaster on the coffee table. “Do you write all the time then?” Y/N asks, bringing her gaze back to Harry’s.

“Pretty much, although I’m in the studio less in December due to it being so close to the holidays. I’ve actually got my last session with my mates just in a few days.”

“Counting down the days till you have some time off?” She asks, referring to what he had said earlier to her.

“Not particularly,” Harry says.

Y/N is about to ask why, but then her phone bings from her pocket. It’s then that she realizes she hadn’t thought of looking at her phone once since sitting down with Harry. She had been so engrossed with their conversation, and feeling a light buzz that she managed to forget about the pizza she ordered. The notification on her screen read that her pizza had arrived at the building, and the delivery person would be here any second. Then her phone starts ringing.

“Hello,” Y/N answers the phone in a sweet voice. Harry has to stop himself from staring, instead finding himself grabbing the red wine that he wasn’t too fond of, and has a few sips as he listens to Y/N talk to, what he assumes, is the pizza delivery. She buzzes them up with one tap on her phone before the call ends. “Our dinner is finally here,” she tells Harry, even though he had gathered as much, but he still smiles in response. She stands from the couch and adjusts her pants by pulling them up slightly. They fit her so bloody well, Harry thinks. “And we are both nearly done with a glass of wine each before we’ve even eaten,” Y/N chuckles as she walks past Harry and to the kitchen to her purse.

While Y/N pays for their food, Harry takes it upon himself to top off her glass of wine. He was content with his last few sips between bites. Y/N sets the two pizza boxes on the coffee table before rushing into the kitchen to grab two plates and some napkins for them. They work together in a comfortable silence to get things set up; both boxes open and Y/N settles back onto the couch before they dig into the large New York slices.

Y/N brings a piece straight from the box to her mouth, once she bites into the greasy food she moans around her mouthful of cheesy pizza. Harry is just about to take his first bite as well but stops just short at the sounds that come from Y/N. He dares to glance her way, throat bobbing as he takes her in. Both eyes closed, her head hanging back and lips turned up into a smile as she chews her food. He watches her swallow, utterly mesmerized by her soft skin moving just slightly. Dear god, Styles, get it together, he thinks as he imagines her swallowing something else.

Y/N opens her eyes at the sound of Harry clearing his throat, turning her gaze to him and seeing him lift his piece of pizza to her in a ‘cheers’ manner. “Thanks again for the meal,” Harry says. There his voice does it again, sounding all low and throaty as it makes chills go down her spine.

“No problem,” Y/N nods. She tries to focus back on eating her food, willing the thoughts in her head to go away. But she can’t stop them from entering her dreams later that night after Harry and her had said their goodbye - Harry noticed her yawn a few times and began to clean up their plates and empty wine glasses while he continued to tell Y/N about his time in school before he was writing songs full time on his way to the kitchen. Y/N watched him from her spot on the couch, smiling at how he didn’t think twice on cleaning up after them. She was pretty sure that’s how her dream started too, but then it led to Harry’s voice whispering in her ear, asking if she’s been naughty or nice this year while they laid in bed. Y/N blames the large glass of wine. One hundred percent she blames the wine.

There wasn’t a more perfect day in the year, Y/N was sure of it, as she sat on a bench in Central Park. It was t-minus three weeks before Christmas Day and she had just gotten off work. The sun was slowly setting in the horizon as she stared at the sparkling snow that covered the ground and trees around her.

“Y/N?”

She turns her gaze away from the skating rink in the distance to see who had called out her name. A smile tugs at her lips as she sees Harry a few feet away. He’s dressed in a long dark coat that reaches to his knees, one which was exposed from a rip in his loose fitting jeans. With his outfit he wore a pair of chelsea boots upon his feet that trudged through the snow. Y/N noticed that he was bundled up with a grey scarf around his neck and a matching beanie upon his head too. She liked how his hair flipped up at the ends, sticking out of the beanie.

It has been almost a week since their pizza night together, and thankfully, those wine induced dreams had stopped after that one night, which to be fair were rather innocent compared to some other dreams she had thanks to too much tequila - regardless, it’s making it much less awkward to face him now.

“Hey,” she greets him as she meets his eyes once more. Harry stops by the bench, motioning at the open space to her left.

“Mind if I sit with you?” He asks. Y/N shakes her head and moves to her right just a bit to make more room for him. “Was going for a stroll, thought I was imagining you sitting here by yourself to be honest.” Harry states.

“New York City can seem rather small some days,” Y/N says with a smile.

“Some days, yeah,” Harry nods. “What brings you out to this lonesome bench in Central Park?” Harry asks, looking out at the scenery before them.

“This,” Y/N answers with a hand out to the park.

“It's rather pretty.”

“Very, and calming. And after my day at the office today, I desperately needed to just sit here by myself and disconnect from the world for a moment.”

“Oh,'' Harry says, bringing Y/N’s gaze away from the couple holding hands across the pond and to him instead. “I'm- I'm sorry if I barged in. I just thought it’d be weird if I didn’t say hi.”

“Oh no, it’s totally okay,” Y/N assures him. “I’ve been out here for a good while now.” As if her body realizes at the same time, she shivers beside Harry.

“Did you want to head home?”

“Not particularly,” Y/N hums. Her eyes falling back to the sights before her. The sky is becoming a soft hue of pinks and oranges before their eyes. It warms her heart despite her entire body is cold.

“How about a cup of hot cocoa?” Harry suggests as he sees the cart serving hot drinks just to their right. An older couple and, what seems to be, their grandchildren are being served steaming cups and candy canes too. That seems like something Y/N would like, Harry thinks as he stands from the bench. He's about to offer his hand but thinks twice about it, sticking both his hands into his coat pockets before he can make a fool of himself. “My treat,” Harry adds with a smile.

“I would love that,” Y/N beams while standing from the bench and falling into step with him.

Harry orders for the two of them as they step up to the small cart. Y/N discreetly takes out her phone and opens her Instagram app, swiping to the right to open her camera before she’s bombarded with notifications. She holds down on her screen to begin filming her pointed Versace boots that she had been gifted from work this winter; they had become a staple as the weather grew colder and the snow kept coming down since they had the thickest heel of all the shoes in her closet. Holding the phone up, she catches half of Harry’s body as she films the hot chocolate cart. His back is to the camera, his large coat and beanie covering any angle she did get of him so she’s not afraid to post the story after adding a quick filter to it and typing ‘pro tip: always get a hot chocolate when you’re feeling chilly in central park’ tagging her location as well before hitting post to her story and feeding her nearly five hundred thousand followers with some content for the first time all day.

“Thank you,” Y/N says softly as Harry hands her a to-go cup without a lid since there’s an abundance of whipped cream on top. Her smile turns into a grin as he also reveals he bought her a candy cane. She gasps and is quick to unwrap it and stick it into her mouth.

“Woah, you’re like a toddler itching for a sugar rush, huh?” Harry teases as they begin walking along the path and away from the cart.

“Candy canes are my weakness,” Y/N states as she pushes it to the left side of her mouth in order to talk more clearly.

“Good to know,” Harry smiles over the rim of his cup before opening his mouth and licking off some of the whipped cream. Y/N has to look away as she’s brought back to her dream.

Shaking her head slightly, she brings her phone back up to her face and it unlocks for her. Since it’s still open on the Instagram camera, she holds out her heaping cup of whipped cream and attempts to take a picture as they walk. The first two turn out blurry, then she stops walking, in hopes it’ll turn out nice before Harry can notice she stopped. Only it doesn’t of course, so she ends up furrowing her brows and sucks harder on the candy cane in her mouth before trying three more times to take the perfect snap.

Suddenly, Harry’s hand is in her shot, a blur over her whipped cream. She gasps and looks up to see his forefinger in his mouth, obviously licking off the bit of whipped cream he managed to steal. She’s surprised he did it, and she can tell he is a bit too, but then she huffs out a short chuckle while her mouth is still agape, which makes Harry grin. He doesn’t think twice as he reaches out to swipes his finger over the sweet cream again.

“Stop stealing my whipped cream!” Y/N glares at Harry as he licks his finger clean once more.

“It’s gonna melt anyways, you're taking so bloody long to drink any of it.”

“I'm busy enjoying my candy cane, jeez,” Y/N rolls her eyes and takes the candy out of her mouth, having forgotten about the picture, her phone screen turns blank. Harry shrugs and reaches forward again to steal more. Y/N is faster this time, and moves her cup away from him while bringing her candy cane up and pointing towards him. “Do it again and I'll stab you,” She warns. Harry throws his free hand up in surrender, but both of his cheeks have those deep dimples showing. I’m beginning to really like those dimples, Y/N thinks.

“You get rather hostile over your holiday treats, hm?” Harry questions, raising a brow before slowly retreating his hand to hold his own hot chocolate with his other. He brings the cup to his mouth with both hands and takes a sip.

“Yes, in fact, I do,” Y/N mutters, looking down at her own cup and notices that the whipped cream is nearly gone now. Suppose Harry was right, she missed her chance to enjoy the extra sweetness.

She takes a few sips as they continue to walk together through Central Park. The sky is beautiful as the sunset is in its full glory with dreamy pinks and purples littering the skies. Y/N debates taking a photo but decides against it as she slips her phone into her pocket. Just as she’s about to return the candy cane back to her mouth, she glances over at Harry and notices just as he brings down his own hot chocolate from his mouth that he’s made a bit of a mess.

She chuckles before saying, “you’ve got a little,” Y/N points to her upper lip, “uh, a whipped cream moustache.” She giggles as Harry pokes the tip of his tongue out and swipes it over his top lip. Y/N chuckles some more and offers him her napkin.

“Thanks,” Harry says before wiping it across his mouth, looking back to her to ask, “did I get it all?”

Y/N finds herself staring at Harry for a few moments longer than it would take to give a simple answer if his face was clean or not. She’s never felt so comfortable around someone before, not even her childhood friends or Sammy honestly. There’s this ease around Harry the few times they’ve been around one another, and it makes her heart swell up in her chest. She rolls her lips into her mouth and inhales deeply through her nose, breaking her gaze away from his face and to the ground. In order to not seem weird or awkward, she looks back up and finds his eyes on her while she nods her head.

“Yeah, you’re good,” she tells him. They start their walk through Central Park once more, heading towards home at a slow pace. Y/N has her candy cane back in her mouth, alternating between it and her hot chocolate before it got too cold. She could live off them both one hundred percent; two of the best things ever invented.

“So, tell me about your day,” Harry says, bringing Y/N out of her own thoughts and meeting his gaze again.

“It was a pretty good day, I guess,” she sighs, “we just have a lot of clients that like to do last minute shopping during the holidays and have some pretty crazy demands, but we want to deliver for them so we bend over backwards to do so.”

“I’m sure that can cause you to be rather exhausted then, yeah?”

“Very,” Y/N nods, “but I’m sure your day was much more interesting than mine, so tell me what kind of songs you wrote today?” Y/N asks with a smile.

Harry chuckles and lets Y/N lead the way to their left on the path home, he wasn’t the most confident with getting around sometimes since he usually stuck to the few places in the city that he was familiar with. While he has learned that Y/N is a New York City Native, he trusts her way direction over his, that’s for sure. He thinks back on what he had done today, including a quick run on the treadmill in the gym in their building that ended sooner than he thought as he got a burst of lyrical inspiration out of nowhere.

“I was in my apartment for most of the morning and a bit of the afternoon, then got in a bit of a rut after writing a new song about love, of course. Then I decided I needed to get out of the house and hope for some inspiration from people watching, which I have done a lot since living here,” Harry explains. Y/N takes a big gulp of her nearly cold drink, leaning to her left to get to the garbage they are passing in order to throw out the empty cup. Harry takes the chance to throw his empty cup out too.

“Do you always write about love?” Y/N asks, not thinking twice if it may be a bit too personal of a question. Harry is taken back at first by how that’s all she got from what he had said, but he only clears his throat and shoves his hands into his pockets now that they are free.

“Mostly, yeah,” he nods, “most relatable thing in life, I suppose.”

“Sometimes, I guess it can be,” Y/N agrees and goes back to sucking on her candy cane. She wonders how many times he’s been in love? How many times has she really been in love? Y/N sighs internally and focuses on her steps, avoiding a puddle by having to step closer to Harry. She sniffles from the cold at the same time and is hit with Harry’s scent - lavender, as it always seems to be how he smells. She still thinks it’s lovely.

The two of them make more casual conversation on their fifteen minute walk home through the busy streets. Harry tells her about an elderly couple he had seen just before seeing her, maybe in their 80s, and looking more in love than he’s ever seen before. He wrote a few things about how they looked before going on his way. Y/N tells him about how her grandparents used to go on walks through the park when she was younger, which then brings them into the topic of grandparents in general. Harry tells her about how his grandpa refuses to retire and how his grandma ends up bugging his mom because of how lonely she is. Y/N is smiling the whole time, loving how he must feel comfortable around her too as he’s able to talk about his family like this. Y/N also yawns many times in their short walk. She’s tempted to invite Harry into her apartment for some wine and pizza again but decides against it and simply gives him a smile and soft goodbye at her door, deciding to get into her night routine earlier than normal due to how she can’t stop yawning.

After hanging up her coat, double checking her door was locked, and slipping out of her boots, Y/N pulled her phone out of her pocket to check out what text she missed while on her walk home. She liked how she wanted to feel so present around Harry, having no want to look at her phone but instead being more interested in his little stories about his grandparents. Her face ID unlocks as she looks at the screen. It’s still on the photo she last tried to take for her Instagram. Harry’s hand was a bit of a blur as he stole her whipped cream off the top of her hot chocolate. There was no way to not know it was Harry’s hand, though, his rings being so unique and noticeable in the photo as well - her favourite being his initials wrapped around his fingers in gold. Some would think it’s maybe a bit narcissistic, but Y/N thought it looked good and really there’s no harm in being a narcissist sometimes right?

Y/N saves the photo but doesn’t post it, deciding to simply keep it for herself instead of letting her many followers see into a small yet sweet moment between her and her newest friend. She could call him that right? They were friends? Y/N did hope that Harry thought of her as a new friend too because she was enjoying this time with him a lot, maybe even a little too much.

It had been another day spent at the cafe down the street for Harry. Marking only one last day off till his final studio time this year, he was itching to get to work in a couple days and see his mates too. Over the almost two weeks, he’s written more than he had expected himself to and he knew he could thank a certain new neighbour, or I guess, a new friend, Harry thinks to himself as he turns towards his apartment building. There was no denying the feeling he got around Y/N. He wanted to become more than friends, eventually, no rush of course - but he couldn’t ignore the feeling he got around her; the butterflies and heart racing nearly every moment together. And he couldn’t forget the constant smiling, which he was doing right now just thinking about her.

Harry walks up to the main doors of his apartment building and notices a man beside the main doors. Harry furrows his brows at him. He didn’t look like some strange man trying to find warmth during the beginning of the evening here in the city that had fallen to freezing temperatures as the first week of December came to an end. In fact, he had a brand new iPhone in his hand and rather expensive looking clothes keeping him warm.

“Hey, did you need inside?” Harry asks the man standing by the intercom system. The man looks up at Harry, eyes narrowing at him. He seems Harry’s age, maybe even a few years older judging by the lines around his eyes. He’s got dark eyebrows which makes Harry think he must have dark hair under the beanie he wore under the hood of his thick winter coat. Harry waits for an answer, staring back into the stranger’s brown eyes.

“Yeah, girlfriends not answering and I know she’s inside,” his voice is low and gruff, he then lifts a Starbucks hot cup up - Harry recognizes the holiday pattern anywhere now since Y/N seems to always have one on her even in quick passing in or out of the building. “Even got me to pick her up this stupid drink on my way too, her fault if it’s cold now I guess.”

“Guess so,” Harry mumbles, kind of put off by the man’s attitude. He decides to give him the benefit of the doubt and holds the door open for it. The man walks in without so much of a thank you. You’re welcome, Harry sarcastically thinks to himself.

They walk together to the elevator in an awkward silence. Once the doors open Harry steps up to the buttons and hits the sixth one, not bothering to ask the man what floor he needs as he steps away. The stranger gives the lit up button a brief look before he’s staring down at his phone. As the elevator moves Harry’s mind wanders off to how he’d assert himself into Y/N’s evening today. Maybe he could make her dinner, then ask if she’d like to walk over to Central Park after because he knows how much she enjoys it there, and when they decide to take a break from walking and find a bench he’d finally get the nerve to make a move - maybe reach for her hand during the walk even. One thing was for sure, he liked Y/N and he needed to buck up and do something about it.

He’s still deep in thought about Y/N when the elevator doors open. The man he let into the building steps out first without even glance at Harry. Typical New Yorker, he thinks. Harry finds himself looking at where Y/N’s apartment door is over the man's shoulder as they walk down the hall, he’s debating just walking right up and asking her to hang out right away. But then the man stops in front of the door that reads 602 - Y/N’s door.

Y/N hears the knock on her front door and blinks rapidly at her laptop screen, unfocusing from her long email that she was to send to her boss, Amanda, within the hour with an update on how the first week of December had gone. She glances at the time and sees it’s nearly four in the afternoon. Took him long enough, she thinks while rolling her eyes and standing from the couch. Just as she’s a few steps away there’s another knock on the door. She sighs and unlocks it, quickly throwing the door open to reveal Mark standing on the other side.

“You are home,” he says, that attitude she knows so well is thick in his voice already. Y/N opens her mouth, about to sass him back, but then she notices a certain tall figure with a mess of brown hair walking behind Mark.

“Harry,” Y/N breathes out, hoping he didn’t even hear it honestly. But he slows his steps and gives her a tight lipped smile once facing her. It’s one she was not familiar with and makes her stomach feel as though it was full of rocks.

“Hey,” he says with a small three finger wave.

“You know this guy?” Mark, her boyfriend, questions. Bringing her eyes from Harry’s green ones and to his brown ones instead. “He was nice enough to let me into this place since you were too busy,” he states.

Y/N tucks her lips into her mouth and looks away from Mark and back to Harry. She knows he’s questioning everything by the look in his eyes. She tried. Well, maybe not hard enough, but she wanted to tell him about Mark, even just casually and quickly. Y/N didn’t intend to give Harry any sort of mixed signals during their times together, she really was just being polite and ended up enjoying being around him so much that she thought there was no harm in making a new friend. But she’d be an idiot to try and deny she felt something more than friendship with Harry.

“Yeah, uh,” she clears her throat and waves a hand between the two young men, “Mark, this is Harry my uh, my neighbour. Harry this is Mark, my boyfriend.”

Well shit, that’s not ideal, Harry thinks as he looks into Y/N’s eyes and prays he heard her wrong. But he knows he didn’t. So, he just takes a deep breath and forces a smile to stay on his face while holding a hand out to Mark, even though it hurt him to be polite to the guy that was dating the girl he’s been crushing on for nearly two weeks now.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Harry says as Mark grasps his hand and shakes it lazily. Shit handshake, he thinks. “I would love to stay and chat but I’ve got some work to get to,” he says quickly after taking his hand out of Mark’s and backing away from the situation towards his own apartment.

Y/N opens her mouth, but the words don’t come out. She just watches as Harry turns on his heels and his posture hunches as he gets to his door and tries to unlock it quickly. Mark is suddenly pushing past Y/N, saying something but she’s too focused remembering the look on Harry’s face just moments ago. She steps back into her apartment and doesn’t look over to where Harry is shutting his own door before closing her own gently.

Really fucked this up didn’t you, Y/N? She thinks as she turns the lock on her door and listens to Mark complain about his day while flinging his belongings around her living room. What is she going to do? What is she going to say? If Harry ever talks to her again, that is. She sighs and closes her eyes before making her way towards where her boyfriend was lounging on her couch, giving him a small smile as he opened his arms for her to sit with him.

“I did miss you these past few weeks while I was away,” Mark says, planting a quick kiss to her hair as she leans into his body - praying he doesn’t question why her heart is beating so fast. She’s sure he wouldn’t enjoy knowing it’s because of her growing feelings for her new neighbour, and seeing the realization in Harry’s face at the fact she wasn’t single kind of hurt to see.

“Missed you too,” she mumbles, lying. Y/N hadn’t thought about her boyfriend all that much these past, almost, three weeks that he was away for a business trip.

“Do much without me?” Mark asks.

Y/N shakes her head, “no, not much at all,” her soft voice replies while she begins to zone out on the wall that was between her and Harry’s apartments, noticing how it made her feel more separated from him now more than ever.

>> part two <<

thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until next week 😘

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#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #boyfriend!harry #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles concept #harry styles prompt #1dff #cstsyl

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE BLOOD Vol.2: Mukami Kou [Track 1+2]

Original title: 目隠しされて & 無神コウ

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, Blood Vol. 2: Mukami Kou [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here (00:00~14:03)

Seiyuu: Kimura Ryouhei

Translator’s note: Continuing my marathon of MB CDs, everyone’s favorite idol Kou-kun is up next! I’m not a huge Kou fan myself, but he’s the main bias of my best friend so I’m always reminded of her when I translate his CDs. :p I used to find his voice quite annoying in the past, but in this CD, it didn’t bother me too much.

Track 1+2 ll Track 3+4 ll Track 5+6 ll Track 7+8 ll Track 9+10

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 1: Blindfolded

“...Hey!”

*Creaaak*

“Hey, you...!”

*Creaaak*

“Are you listening?”

*Rustle rustle*

“Say, say...~”

*Rustle rustle*

[00:15] “...Ah! Seems like you finally woke up! Ahー Thank god! You just kept on snoozing forever, for a second I thought you’d never wake up again!”

You look around, seeming confused.

“Eh? You want to know where you are...? Eeh...~ How cruel! You don’t recall? ーー Everything that happened before getting here, I mean.”

You flinch.

“Ahaha~ Seems like you remembered, huh? Exactly. I kidnapped you here~”

You ask him why.

[00:52] “...’Why’? You’ve been asking an awful lot of questions this whole time, haven’t you? Oh well, I guess it can’t be helped. After all, you’re currently stuck in pitch-black darkness. I guess it makes sense to grow anxious or scared...Fufufu~ But rest assured.”

*Rustle*

“I’ll explain the whole situation step by step, okay? First and foremost, you’re currently blindfolded, lying on top of my - Mukami Kou-kun’sーー

*Rustle*

ーー bed, you see~”

*Rustle rustle*

[01:31] “As for why I kidnapped you. Hmー There’s a few, but one of them would be because you’re a special human. ...Fufu~ Do you know what that means? It basically implies that you’re in a different league from just any other regular human out there. You might not be aware of it yourself, but to our species, your existence stands out as extraordinary.”

*Rustle*

“Actually, you know that already, don’t you? You’re being kept as a pet over at the Sakamaki manor after all.”

You protest.

“...Eh? You’re not being ‘kept’? Ah, sorry, sorry! I didn’t quite put it right, did I? I take back my words. More accurately, you’re their...prey, aren’t you?”

He pins you down.

*Thud*

[02:23] “Fufu...Ahahaha~ No need to look so dissatisfied. It’s the truth, isn’t it? Besides, that’s the second reason which made me interested in you so I dare argue it’s a good thing?”

*Creaaak*

“Hm? You want to know who I am? Didn’t I name myself earlier? You’ve got such bad memory.”

You shake your head.

[02:51] “Ah...That’s not what you meant? Ahー Gotcha. Hm...Can I spill the beans already? But I feel like Ruki-kun will give me an earful if I do and he’s a pain to deal with when he’s upset. ...Let’s see...~ Fufu...~ I’ll tell you when I feel like it, okay?”

*Creaaak*

“Anyway, I gave you an answer to your questions so happy now? More importantly, I want to know about you first. All sorts of things...~”

*Rustle*

[03:32] “We actually managed to get a hold of their weakness, so just like Ruki-kun is always saying, I should get an idea of what I’m dealing with. So to start off, I better do a little investigating to find out what exactly makes you so special...~”

*Rustle rustle*

“Fufu~ You’re shaking...My touch is still foreign to you, isn’t it? No need to be so scared though. I’m a nice guy after all.”

He pulls you close.

[04:04] “Here, I’ll stroke your head for you. ...Good girl, good girl...So stop trembling, okay?”

*Rustle*

“Hm...You’re more alert than I thought. Fufu~ You’re letting them have their way with you despite that?”

You protest again.

[04:28] “How odd...Or perhaps you’re simply feigning this cautious attitude? In that case, you’re one hell of a naughty kitten~ They say that a skillful hunter gets a kick out of going after highly alert prey and honestly, I think I may understand where they’re coming from. It’s boring when something is too easy to get. ーー I can already get my hands on pretty much everything I want through my job after all.”

*Rustle*

“...Ah! But I don’t really like how I’m implying those guys are skilled by saying that. What do you think? As the one they’re hunting for, how do you feel about them?”

You remain quiet.

[05:17] “Heeey~ Aren’t you going to answer? Giving me the silent treatment is a little mean, don’t you think? Hmー I guess it’s a little difficult of a question to start off with. In that case, let me ask you an easy one. Ah, right! How about this? ーー Does it really feel good to have them suck your blood? You know, does it make you feel like you’ve ascended to another world? Like your body is just floating mid-air~”

*Rustle*

“...No answer once again? You really are dull, geez. What will get you to talk? Should I ask you about your favorite spots? Or perhaps you really don’t care about those guys at all?”

*Rustle*

[06:12] “Ahー I’m kind of fed up with this already. I’m out here trying my best to be nice and all I get in return is the cold shoulder. What are you playing at?”

You explain.

“...You can’t say those things to someone you’ve only just met? Heh~ I see...That makes sense now that you mention it. In that case, I suppose I have to introduce myself first.”

Track 2: Mukami Kou

He removes the blindfold.

*Rustle*

“Here. Take a cloooose look at my face. I removed your blindfold as well. See? I’m this close to you. Our lips could almost touch.”

You look straight at him.

[00:19] “...Fufu~ Can you see me? I guess I should say ‘nice to meet you’? I’m sorry for suddenly abducting you like that earlier~ However, it would have been difficult to take you away otherwise. I guess you could say it was the optimal timing? It really was my one chance.

...Say, are you the type who doesn’t watch television very often? Well, I guess you don’t strike me as a girl who would.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“Ah, no, I’m just talking to myself. I just figured that you’d probably recognize me if you watched TV every now and then. Not that it matters though.”

*Rustle*

[00:57] “But really, things went surprisingly well if I may say so myself. I’m sure those guys are frantically looking around for you right about now. After all, their precious little treat was snatched away from right underneath their nose, haha~! Fufu...Ahahaha! Just remembering those foolish expressions on their faces makes me laugh.”

*Rustle rustle*

“And I’m going to dig into their precious meal soon...Haah...Somehow just being this close to you makes my breath hitch.”

*Rustle*

“Is this what you’re capable of? Say, how come you’re this delicious?”

*Sniff sniff*

“...You smell amazing. What kind of scent is this? Hm...~”

Kou takes a deep breath.

[01:55] “I can’t get enough of it...I wonder where it’s coming from?”

*Sniff sniff*

“Not here...”

*Rustle*

“Then here maybe?”

*Sniff*

“I can’t quite tell through your clothes...”

*Rustle rustle*

“Why not take them off? It’s not like you need them, do you? ...Come on, hurry. The scent on the fabric is throwing me off.”

*Rustle*

“Come on, go ahead!”

You hesitate.

[02:29] “...Hurry up, will you? You might not guess it, but I’m not the most patient guy around. If you refuse to take them off yourself...You’re not going to have a good time.”

You refuse.

“...Tsk. Ahー What a fucking drag! Do you think I’m a joke or something? Do you have any idea what’ll happen if you oppose me like that?”

*Creaaak*

“Ugh...”

*Thud*

“I’ve gotten a little irritated you see. And once that happens, everything starts to annoy me. So that look you’re giving me...Ahaha...It pisses me off.”

*Rustle*

[03:12] “...I’m going to gauge out those eyes of yours, for real. I happen to kind of like that sorta stuff.”

You start taking off your clothes.

“...Huh? You’re gonna strip? Ahー So you’ve chosen to obey? How boring. I just had so many good ideas of things to do to you.”

*Rustle rustle*

“Anyway, if you’re just gonna bend to someone’s will in the end anyway, wouldn’t it be better to simply listen from the very start? Or did you want me to snap at you?”

You shake your head.

“Ah, I see! Right! You’re that kind of girl, aren’t you? You wanted me to lose my temper...so I’d treat you horribly, right? Fufu~ What an M-neko-chan you are~”

You seem confused by the nickname.

[04:03] “Hm? You want to know what ‘M-neko’ means? Isn’t that obvious? You’re more stupid than I thought. The ‘M’ is the same one as in ‘Do-M’, duh! Masochists, you know? You’re the type of girl who gets a kick out of the pain, aren’t you?”

*Creaaak*

“With that kind of personality, I can understand why you’d enjoy spending time with those guys. We’re capable of pleasing you in ways a regular human never could after all. Fufu...~ Is it true the pain is addictive?”

You try and explain.

[04:45] “When you put it like that, I almost want to turn into a human girl for one day and have a bunch of Vampires feast upon my blood~ Well, of course, I much prefer being the one doing the sucking. ...Aah, I was told this as well. Apparently having your blood sucked feels like strong currents of electricity running through your entire body, is that true? How nice~ I’m envious~”

You frown.

“That being said, I’d rather not get bitten myself. I’d love to get a taste of that pleasure, but I’d rather die than let some other Vampire pierce me with his fangs. Heh~ ...Ah, oh no, I’ve been rambling...”

*Rustle*

[05:39] “Come on, take those clothes off. I’ll figure out where this delicious scent is coming from first. You’re hiding it underneath that dull (1) outfit of yours, aren’t you? ーー Your precious secret~”

You start to take off the rest of your clothes.

“Fufu...Exactly~ You’ve got to show me your meek side like that, or else I might just poke your eyes out~”

You tell him you’re done.

[06:08] “...Eh? You took them off? Now don’t be ridiculous. When I say ‘strip’, I obviously meant everything, right? You move your jacket to the side a little and call that ‘taking off your clothes’? Heeh...You really must be making fun of me, aren’t you? ...Listen, I hate being ridiculed more than anything...There are many girls in this world who would kill to be in this kind of situation with me, you know? Yet here you are, living that dream...”

*Rustle*

“Ah, right! You’re just pretending to be embarrassed but you’re actually happy, aren’t you?”

*Rustle*

“Oh! Or perhaps...You want me to rip you apart? I would never resort to such violent actions though. I mean, there’s nothing fun about tearing apart someone who won’t even scream from the pain, is there? Fufu...~”

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) More specifically, he describes her clothes as lacking even the faintest hint of sexiness.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kou mukami #diabolik lovers more blood #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

95 notes · View notes

tojisveryown · 3 years

Text

𝙸𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 | 𝟶𝟸

𝙰𝚌: 𝚠𝚃𝟼𝙸𝙳𝟸𝚀𝟺𝙰𝙺𝚄𝟿𝚏𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚠𝚝

𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋��𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚑𝚘𝚕, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚐 𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟸.𝟻𝚔

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝙰𝚄, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟶𝟸 | 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

(𝚄𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍)

⋆ 💌⋆

3 am, it was three o’clock in the morning and you woke up to the sound of your phone going off. Who the hell would be up at this hour, especially since there was a lecture everyone had to attend in four hours.

You took a glance at your screen, slowly adjusting to the brightness, you allow yourself to wake up, you check your messages, and realize Gojo has been texting you nonstop

“Seriously, what the hell is wrong with this guy its three am..” you whisper to yourself trying not to wake up Utahime

“Who would ever wanna fuck you anyway?”

Sheesh.

Am I that un-fuckable? You walked over to the bathrooms and gave yourself a long and judgmental stare. “Shit, I am un-fuckable aren’t I?”

Before you let your insecurities get the best of you, you decided that it’d be best to catch some sleep and worry about your appearance later. It’s not that your body was ugly, or that your face was ugly, it was definitely how you dressed.

The way you dressed practically presented to everyone what type of vibes you give off, and as of right now you gave off pretty much “Hi, my name is L/N Y/N and I still shop at the kids' section from target.” and that is NOT the impression you wanted others to have when glancing towards you.

You sighed, “That fucking man whore really did a number on my self-esteem.” You rolled over and checked the alarm clock placed on the nightstand that was sandwiched into yours and Utahime’s bed. 5:38 am

“Maybe I should go shopping after the lecture.” you rolled off your bed and decided to get an early start. After finishing up you left the girls dormitory.

6:45 am

Coffee?

Coffee.

⋆ 💌⋆

You hurried to the coffee shop that was a floor below your first lecture, luckily there weren’t that many people waiting in line, after what felt like two minutes it was finally your turn to order.

“Hi welcome, what may I get you?” The barista said,

“Hi good morning, may I get an iced caramel macchiato?”

“Of course, that’ll be 5.47!″

You dug in your bag to find your wallet and before the lady could take your card a hand placed itself over your own “I got it, add a white mocha to it will ya’ make it for Y/N Gojo, thanks.” That voice belonged to none other than the pest you dealt with yesterday. “G’morin’ Y/N.” he smiled as he slung his arm around you leading you outside the small coffee shop.

“Mmm, so about yesterday.. I’ll forgive you if you let me take you out on a date? How ‘bout it?”

No. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with this guy?

“Huh? I didn’t apologize.” You feel yourself leaning on the pillar that stood outside the coffee shop.

Gojo scoffed, “That’s exactly why, you won’t have to if you let me take you on a date. Think about it Y/N.” he leaned closer resting his forearm on the same pillar you were leaning against right above your head. He was practically towering over you.

“And if i don’t want to apologize?” He scoffed once more and held your chin, forcing you to lookup. His touch was cold, almost concerning really.. it’s probably from some sort of std.

“Y/N Gojo your coffee is ready! Y/N Gojo!”

Gojo stepped away to grab both cups of coffee, he handed you yours and walked alongside you. “You know Y/N, so many girls would kill to go on a date with me, you’re really missing out.” there he goes flashing that cheekily smile around again.

“Guess I’m not like the fuckable bimbos you go after then.”

“You know you could be if you wanted to,” he walked in front of you, turning on his heels so he was now facing you as he continued to walk backwards. “All you have to do is give me a call.” he pulled his sunglasses down and gave you a wink.

Cheeky bastard.

You shoved the iced coffee into the core of his stomach signaling that you wouldn’t be swooned so easily by his escapades, you held out your arm until he realized you were giving the coffee back. His fingertips grazed over your hand and you flinched at the subtle contact. Before Gojo had the chance to call you out you were submerged into the crowd.

“Y/N stop being so difficult.”

⋆ 💌⋆

6:58 am, you made it on time for your first early morning lecture and sat in the fourth row. As you began to pull your stuff out more and more people started filling up the seats. You were beginning to regret returning the coffee Gojo had bought for you due to the lack of sleep.

“Y/N don’t run off like that, I almost lost you in the crowd.” You turned your head and there he was, sitting right next to you while wearing that stupid grin “Sorry some of it spilled out, but it’s still perfectly fine.” he admitted as he slid the iced coffee towards you. You looked away, you thought Gojo would finally get the hint to leave you alone and yet he just kept going on Until..

“Good morning Satoru!” a girl smiled as she sat down in the row in front of us “Why do you have two coffees?”

He cocked a smile “Good morning Yuri,” he greeted before he took your coffee and handed it in her direction, “Ehh, they gave me an extra drink. But I wouldn’t mind giving it to you.”

You turned your head to watch the scene play out, that bastard and his cheap tricks. “That was supposed to be my coffee” is what you wanted to say, but you knew it’d be best not to get tangled in Gojo’s business. You turned away looking for a new seat. You packed your things and headed towards the back of the lecture hall.

The girls face lit up in excitement “Of cour-”

“Kidding, this is Y/N’s.” but before Gojo could turn his head back to you to flash that idiotic smile of his you were nowhere to be found.

⋆ 💌⋆

The lecture was finally over and just as you were finishing up your notes a figure appeared. “Y/N it’s rude to leave without saying anything.” He slid your cup of coffee on the desk.

“Thought you gave it to that girl.”

“I bought it for you, not her.” he stated firmly, he grabbed your bag and walked towards the door, “Are you coming or not?”

“Huh, where are you and I going? And give me back my bag.”

Satoru turned on his heels and leaned down to your height pressing his pointer finger on his lips. His crystal blue eyes met yours and you were at a loss of words, his eyes truly were beautiful and you almost let a compliment slip until you realized who those eyes belonged to.

“It’s a secret of course, and its ‘we’ Y/N, say ‘where are we going’, what good if there in having a parter if you aren’t even acknowledging them correctly?”

“You aren’t my partner, work alone.” you handed him the cup of coffee and seized your bag out of his arms. For the second time this week Gojo was now staring at your back as you walked away, your figure getting smaller and smaller each step you took before you were one with the crowd. Gojo stared down at the cup and noticed that you didn’t take any sips of the caffeinated drink that he purposefully bought for you.

“Warm up to me soon will you?” he whispered to himself as he passed by a trashcan throwing the drink away.

⋆ 💌⋆

The next morning you found Gojo patiently waiting for your arrival, in his hands were two cups of coffee, it doesn’t look like he’s noticed you so you take that advantage and walk behind a group of students going to their next class. As you were passing by desperately trying to avoid any form of contact with Gojo you unintentionally eavesdropped on a conversation he was having over the phone. Unfortunately you weren’t able to hear the other side of the line.

“Another bet? Sugu’ that’s shitty” He laughed “No, she already thinks I’m an asshole and making a bet with you involving her would make things worse. Okay okay okay one month right? Okay bye.”

Fucking bastard. Who does he think he is, making a bet to see if he can fuck someone he called unfuckable.

⋆ 💌⋆

Just when you thought you were finally free from the virus known as Gojo, the chair next to you became occupied by the person you thought you’d be able to ignore.

“G’morin’ Y/N!” he cheered gaining the attention of all the students that had the decency to come early “Got you some coffee, promise I won’t give it to anyone this time.”

You ignored him and reviewed the notes you took yesterday, as class began the thought of Gojo sitting next to you slipped your mind until he moved his elbow with the intentions of hitting yours but knocked down the coffee he brought you onto your notes.

“Whoopsies.” He laughed it off and gave you his notes for you to copy off of

“Gojo I can’t read this.”

“You don’t have to be so picky Y/N, who else is gonna let you borrow their notes you don’t have any friends.”

Asshole.

⋆ 💌⋆

The next morning Gojo showed up with two cups of coffee again and this time he brought a couple of napkins. He sat down next to you and placed the cup in front of you.

“Didn’t you learn from last time?” you questioned as you slid the cup back to Gojo.

“Well maybe if you actually drank it I wouldn’t have spilled it.” he pouted and pulled out a new notebook “Here, since I did ruin your old one.”

You opened the notebook and there was a drawing of a penis on each of the pages.

You took a deep breath and faced Gojo, it took almost everything out of you not to dump the coffee on this man whore again.

⋆ 💌⋆

As the next day came you expected Gojo to sit next to you but today he didn’t, you finally got to pay attention and take proper notes without anything getting spilled on them. After class ended, you found yourself going to get bread from a bakery near your school, but as soon as you were about to pay a pair of cold hands reached over yours handing his card to the cashier instead of yours. “’s okay I got it.” he said smiling as he slithered his hand around your shoulder. You slid his hand off and pulled him to the back of the bakery.

“Woah Woah Y/N we can’t do it here there are people from our class watching!” He teased as he threw his hands in the air as a sign of defense.

“What do you want from me.”

“What?”

You took a step forward, closing the little space you had between the two of you “What do you” poking his chest with your pointer finger you inched closer “want from me?”

Gojo leaned forward and whispered “Be my partner again Y/N.” Gojo felt you stepping away, furthering the distance you once closed. He pulled you into his chest and rocked himself, along with you following side to side due to his strong grip. One of his arms wrapped around your neck as the other slid down to the small of your back. “What’s so bad about being my parter? Afraid I’m gonna use you like the chick you saw me in the library with?”

“I don’t want a man whore as my partner.” you huffed. Gojo flinched at the harsh words you used to describe him, nonetheless he still held you close, his cold hands grabbed your wrists guiding your arm to his back wrapping them around himself.

“What do I have to do to prove to you I’m not a man whore?” he asked rubbing your back and pulling you closer to his chest. God how many layers of cologne does this man lather on himself.

“You can start by getting off me.”

“Mmm.” he pulled you even closer to the point where you two had little to no space whatsoever between your two bodies. “Only if you agree to take me back as you partner.”

You sighed giving in “Let me think about it?”

“M’kay!” he said pulling you even closer before letting you go.

⋆ 💌⋆

You walked back to campus with Gojo, the walk was quiet and peaceful. The sound of cars passing by along with the birds chirping filled your ears and it was a much needed break after eating at the bakery with Gojo filling your thoughts with nonsense.

You and Gojo were on your way to the next lecture of the day until Gojo stopped walking.

“Gojo?”

“Sorry Y/N I have to take a leak, can you please wait for me? I wanna be able to sit next to you in class.”

You nodded and waited on a bench that was within a few feat of the bathrooms, moments later you heard footsteps approaching.

“Hey that was fast, did you wash your hands?” You questioned finally looking up realizing it wasn’t Gojo but the girl who Gojo offered your coffee to, Yuri. “Oh.. Can I help you?”

“Is Satoru really dating you?” She began to laugh and the two girls behind her joined after giving you a hard gaze.

“What no-”

“Probably one of his bets with Suguru. Like Satoru would ever wanna date you. What are you after? His money?”

“Huh no.”

“Please, save the bullshit, how much did you sell yourself for Satoru to hold you in the bakery like that? Or did you force yourself on hi-”

Before she could continue the stinging sensation that was both on your hand and face shut her up. She held her hand up and you flinched waiting for the contact that her hand would soon make with your face, but instead when you opened your eyes Gojo’s hand had grabbed her wrist before the contact was ever made.

He shoved Yuri’s hand away and grabbed your hand dragging you to your next lecture.

⋆ 💌⋆

During the long boring lecture the only thing you were able to think about was everything that happened moments before class began. Losing yourself in your thoughts Gojo slid a piece of paper with the words: “are you okay :( ?”

You replied with: “Yes. I’m fine, thank you.” Gojo smiled to himself as he replayed the scene of him coming to your rescue, cocky bastard.

Ripping off a piece of paper from the corner of your notebook, you wrote down a few words and placed the folded piece of paper onto Gojo’s open palm.

“I guess, you can be my partner again.”

That day Gojo Satoru wore the smile that you gave to him proudly.

⋆ 💌⋆

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 | 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝙻𝙼𝙰𝙾𝙾 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎. 𝙰𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌! 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢'𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥

⋆ 💌⋆

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @peppytine @enesitamor

𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚞𝚎𝚜. (𝟺/𝟸𝟶)

⋆ 💌⋆

160 notes · View notes

jortsaaaaaaart · 3 years

Text

Three Hearts- Tendou x Reader x Ushijima

Soulmate AU- updates will be posted to https://archiveofourown.org/works/32830702/chapters/81464533

You remembered Sendai as being cold, so, so cold. The summers were short but they were also filled with many days spent exploring. You were part of a binational family. Your mother was from the United States, your father from Japan. Most of your early childhood was spent bouncing between the two countries before, finally, it was decided that the schools in Japan were much (much) better. It wasn’t too much of a culture shock. But the freedom Sendai offered was intoxicating. In Japanese culture it was perfectly acceptable to send your child out on errands, or let them visit the local park, on their own.

It was on one of these after school excursions that you ran into your future best friend.

A humid June evening had you trailing along the bank of the local river. Cicadas and the current drowned out almost all other noise. You were debating turning back or taking a wade in the water when you saw a shock of red. There was another kid sitting by the river. One with a pretty vibrant bowl cut. However, when you got closer you realised his hair wasn't the only thing that was red.

"Uh, hey." You murmured, feeling more than a little awkward. "Are you okay?" He almost jumped out of his skin. Wide red eyes snapped towards you before hiding away.

The redhead hastily wiped at his eyes. "Y-Yeah."

"That didn't sound all that convincing." With a sigh you plopped down next to him, watching as he curled in on himself. You'd never been one to mind your own business, not even as a child. Seeing someone crying by themselves was an instant invitation for you to barge in and try to help.

"I'm fine."

"You're crying."

"No I'm not!"

"Hmm. . ." You leaned back, looking over the river. "So what's your name then? If you don't tell me I'll just have to call you cry baby."

“. . . It’s Tendou Satori.” He muttered. Tendou was eyeing you warily, like a stray dog afraid to take a treat from a stranger.

"I'm (L/N) (F/N). If you want me to leave I can, but you just looked so sad sitting here alone." You gave him the warmest smile you could before returning your attention to the water. Satori's red eyes stayed locked on you but he didn't ask you to leave. A few moments passed in silent solidarity before he spoke up.

"I'm usually alone."

"I know how you feel." You sighed.

"You do?"

"Well, yeah. I moved around so much before grade school that I don't know anyone here." You paused. "But, hey, now I know you, right?" Your smile made Tendou forget all about the tears. His cheeks flushed pink under the setting sun.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Asked Satori, who desperately wanted to believe you were being genuine. But years of abuse had a hold on his heart.

You blinked. "Why wouldn't I be nice?"

". . . 'Cause I. . . Everyone says I'm a-"

"Ah! Look guys, it's the monster!" A group of children walked up behind the two of you. They were pointing at Satori with mocking grins. "You shouldn't get so close to him, he'll gobble you up!"

"Monster?" You glanced over at him but he was purposefully avoiding your eyes. If possible he would've liked to completely melt into the grass. Away from everything and everybody. But you weren't sinking into the ground, you were rising up. The bullies took a step back as you stomped up the embankment. "What gives you the right to call him that, huh?"

"W-What?" The ringleader stammered. "You've seen him, he's a freak! He shouldn't be allowed near us normal huma-"

He fell to the ground, clutching his cheek. Everyone's eyes were wide and glued to you.

"Y- You just punched me!?"

"And I'll do it again!" You stared down the boy while his friends helped him to his feet. Before you could say anything else, or fight a 1 v 4, someone grabbed your hand. Tendou dragged you away while you stuck your tongue out at the still stunned bullies.

Neither of you would ever forget that day. It was the start of a lifelong friendship, and eventually, something more.

On your first year of middle school you officially learned what soulmates were. It was assumed most parents would give you the talk before then, but the school board wanted youths to be prepared.

"They taught us about soulmates today in class." You were both lounging around in his room reading the newest Shonen Jump. You sat next to him on the bed, trying to keep up with his reading speed.

"Yeah?" You hummed.

"When you turn 18 your soulmate's name appears on your wrist. . . But, if you're older than them you have to wait for their birthday so the marks can appear at the same time. . . And then some people don't even get a soulmate." He wasn't paying attention to the manga anymore. His eyes were fixed to the floor while his brain waged war against itself. Tendou had been sure you were his soulmate since that first night. The butterflies in his stomach still hadn't gone away and every time he looked at you he felt like a pile of mush.

But, still, the 'I think you're my soulmate.' died on his tongue replaced with something much more depreciating. "I'm probably one of those people. Monsters don't get soulmates after all." His grin was shaky at best and you saw right through it.

"Don't call yourself that." You chided. "And of course you have a soulmate, Tori. Someone out there doesn't know how lucky they are. Soulmates with the best volleyball ball player ever. And the greatest friend ever, too."

You flopped down, holding your wrist in front of you. "I don't know if I'm excited or nervous."

"Well, it's a good thing, isn't it? Having a soulmate? You'll have someone who belongs with you and will love you no matter what." You pouted at him and he smiled, continuing with his speech. "I can't wait till we turn eighteen. And I know you can't wait either. Even if you're being a baby now."

Tendou had your eighteenth birthday planned out for years. Step one, he'd take you to the river where you met. Step two, shower you with presents and affection. And step three, wait for your soulmate's name, his name, to appear. Step four (profit), live happily ever after. However, like many things in life, it didn't go quite as planned.

On March 21st, right after the end of your final year of junior high, your mother died. It wasn't a shock, she had been sick for months, but the pain was still unbearable. Your mother's side of the family wanted to bury her in the family plot. An old tradition from an old, rural, part of America. Your father gladly handed the responsibility off to them.

Tendou remembered begging his parents to let him see you off at the airport. He remembered how red and puffy your eyes were, the sad smile on your face when you promised him you'd be back soon.

But you weren't.

Your father was in no shape to take care of you. Burying himself in his work to try and forget his loss. February came around and you had your 16th birthday in America. The first year of highschool had started without you. Tendou sent you pictures from Shiratorizawa every day, making you promise to try and get back as soon as possible.

Another February came and went. Your father was getting better and you were slowly but surely convincing him Japan was the right place for you to be. Tendou texted you every day, talking to you about his volleyball matches, his friend Ushijima, how much he missed you.

It was your third year of highschool and finally, finally, you were heading home. You told Tendou the news as soon as you knew. He seemed even more excited than you. You knew why, even if you didn't say it. Tendou had always been the one you thought of when you imagined your soulmate. But. . . There was something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. The whole thing made you nervous, so you kept your feelings to yourself.

Tendou stayed up all night on your birthday, hoping, praying. His eyes never left his wrist for a second and finally at 2:45 a.m. , something happened. Your name, in your sloppy, too quick, handwriting, appeared. The relief of ten years of wondering washed over him. He laughed, breathless and giddy. He immediately messaged you, sending you a picture of his wrist before a barrage of messages, most of them legible.

A minute passed by, then ten, then twenty. . .

You had to see it too, right? So why hadn't you said anything? You hadn't called, texted, or, hell, even emailed him. Tendou started to feel his heart sink with each passing moment.

What if you were disappointed?

Tendou's breath caught in his throat and he could feel his face burn. His phone clattered to the ground as he sank down into his bed. He tried to calm himself down, he didn't know what time it was where you were. Maybe you were out celebrating your birthday or sleeping? He just needed to sleep it off and give you time to respond.

Chest tight, Tendou waited. He waited till hours turned to days and suddenly it was March and his heart was broken. He wasn't sure what was going on at this point. You two had almost never gone a day without talking. But you hadn't read any of his texts or snaps. Eventually he stopped messaging you all together.

But he hadn't given up. He knew you were flying back to Japan soon and he was determined to ask you what the hell was going on.

By mid March you had moved back into your old home. Your father had graciously gotten a moving company for you and your meager belongings. Somehow he failed to show up himself though. You didn't blame him though, he was busy and you haven't been the best company recently. Before leaving America your grandma had begun calling you the walking dead. You were barely sleeping, your eyes were puffy with designer bags hanging heavily underneath. She understood why you were feeling so down and she was empathetic, but the rest of your small town wasn't.

You thought about the timing of it all as you began to unpack. The first box, full of books and notes, was barely empty before the doorbell rang.

Tendou was standing on your doorstep. Your soulmate was standing before you, and your first thought was to shrink back and pretend you weren't home.

He rang the bell again. "(Y/N)! I know you're home! I just. . . I just want to talk okay? . . . Please?"

Tendou stepped back as the door swung open. You were holding your wrist close to your chest, looking anywhere but at him. He could see how red your eyes were, though, and thought they matched his completely.

"Why?" He muttered. One pitiful idiot to another. "Was it so fucking awful? Having my name on your wrist?"

"It wasn't. . ." You started. "Tendou, it wasn't just your name."

#soulmate #soulmates #ushijima x reader #ushijima fluff #ushijima x you #ushijima wakatoshi #tendou fic #tendou x reader #tendou satori #fanfic #x reader #reader insert #haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu

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vinylhazza · 4 years

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A Lesson Learned (E.D) Part 1.

Summary: Ethan’s job as a teacher is to give his students the best education that he can. But when Y/n, a student that has caught his eye a time or two, catches him by surprise in his classroom during lunch, he’s unable to hold back the fire that was sure to break free at some point.

Word Count: 8.1k

Warning: Rough sex between student and teacher. You're welcome.

Ethan wasn't stupid. He knew that the girls in his class snickered and swooned over him from the minute they walk through that classroom door, to the very moment they left. That’s why he had a set of rules. They were simple, but very clear and strongly advised. 1. No consults or help during lunch 2. No help after school, under any circumstances. It was just too risky. It wasn't that he was worried he would slip up, it was just that the girls in his class were very bold with their advancements towards him and he was concerned it would get too out of hand if he allowed them to come in whenever they wanted for “help.” Because help was never really help with them. However; he did give the students an option to come in during a free period, where teachers flittered through the halls and his door was always open. He has yet to see any of the girls take him up on that offer, except maybe one of two that don’t really need the help.

He had three classes, Seniors, Juniors, and Freshmen. All Composition and Reading. They were all pretty much the same, just a slight curriculum change to make it harder for each grade as he saw fit. The girls in his Senior class were the worst with their flirtatious behavior, so bad sometimes that he’s had to call them out or send them to the principals office - feigning that he’s concerned they won't be able to focus enough in his class because of their small crush. It was a serious problem - some even slipped him their number when handing in their papers or passing notes on purpose during class because they knew he would take them away if they were caught. He’s never used them of course, simply throws them in the trash with a shake of his head. He wasn't meaning to be cocky about it, it just made him a bit nervous and uncomfortable. Unfortunately, some girls still hadn't gotten the memo.

But he was still surprised when he heard the light tapping on the closed door, small shadows of feet appearing against the tiled floor just outside. He understood that it was nearing the end of the semester and the students might be panicking a bit too hard over their studies, he’s been there a time or two during high school and college. But his rules were set in place for a reason. He figured it was better to make the rule for everyone rather than show “favorites”. He knew some of the students would probably love the extra study time, but he just couldn't take the chance. The lunch rule wasn't even his decision quite frankly, it was also a school rule that you must reside in either the lunch room, football field, or atrium during lunch hours - no sneaking off on your own agenda without a valid reason. Coming to his classroom wasn't really a valid reason. Yes, some students slipped past the radar, but it wasn't often. Girls were sneaky, and being one of the only males in an all girls school, he started to learn their little tricks.

He sat still behind his desk, eyes glued to the stand still shadow behind the aquatex glass window of the door. A frown stretched across his face as he wondered who it could be, the place was normally deserted and quiet during lunch break - a good 45-60 minutes of absolute silence. Depended on the day. He wondered briefly who it was and what they wanted. Even though the knock was quiet, it nearly scared him - that’s how unusual sound was at this time of day. He was sure he could blast his music as loud as he could and no one would be able to hear. He didn’t of course, it would disrupt his concentration.

It bothered Ethan sometimes that he had such a close eye on him at all times. Just because he was young, with a tall, sturdy frame, thick hair, strong jawline, plump pink lips, and a naturally prominent bulge that he couldn't hide no matter how hard he tried. There were always eyes watching his every move. No, he wasn't the type to flaunt his sex appeal. He didn't like that he was watched like a hawk because he was “hot”. He knew he was watched, knew the women lusted after him, but he kept himself in check. He also knew he was attractive, confident, and had a charm that could sway any girl to be on their knees within seconds. He’d used it quite a few times in college. But as far as he was concerned, he was at the school to teach Composition and Reading - not to stare at girls in their tiny skirts or at their shirts that they refused to button the way they should. He wasn't here for that, plus half of the girls were underage anyway. That and it was just simply wrong. Strictly against the rules.

And it wasn't just the students that would throw themselves at him - but the female staff as well. That made the eyes on him even heavier, as if someone higher up was just waiting for him to slip up, take the bait and get himself into a mess he’s sure he’d never get out of. Because of the close watch on him, he would try and escape from the prying eyes of his co-workers during his lunch break just to sit by himself and get much needed work done that he might not have time for at home or during the day. He liked that this was his alone time without anyone bothering his concentration. He actually thought it was one of the crucial parts of his school day.

He got enough sex to satisfy his needs elsewhere anyhow, not much, but enough. It slowed down after he had a small fling with a female teacher when he first arrived at the school - but it ended as quickly as it started. He fucked her twice and then she turned obsessive and he had to end it in the kindest way he could. He didn't have the energy for the “coworker against coworker” fiasco that would surely start if the word got out that he rejected her after they’d had sex. It would sound dishonorable to everyone that didn't understand the situation. But other than that, it was women he took interest in that were friends of friends, even some women he’s hooked up with before. It wasn't like when he was in college - he was kind of a sex crazy beast in his younger years. That hasn't changed, he just didn't have as much opportunity. Though since he wasn't really meeting anyone at school, he wasn't making it a point to go and find a random female to fuck. Just wasn't his forte. But he liked to believe he got enough. Enough to keep him from going insane.

He sighed softly, not all that happy about being interrupted, but not wanting to ignore whoever it was and be rude. He set his blue inked pen down, stopped the soft music playing from his phone, and pushed the hair back on his head neatly. He noticed that on many occasions it gets quite frazzled from him tugging on it when he was bored or frustrated. He wondered for a moment if it was just another teacher wanting to come and sit with him for some company, but that didn't sound appealing for him if he’s honest. He wanted to be alone and most of the teachers knew that. He cleared his throat, just to assure the person who was waiting that he was inside, before he finally spoke out calmly, but with enough volume that whoever it was could hear him, “Come in.”

The door opened slowly, slowly enough that he just knew it wasn't a teacher. Teachers opened the door with purpose, not a hint of shyness in sight. Students were always the ones that opened the door like it weighed 100 pounds. That thought in mind, he wasn't really surprised that he was right. But he was surprised to see the familiar face of one of his best students. He recognized her beautiful face immediately as she appeared slowly from behind the door. Blushing cheeks and all.

She stood almost nervous with her snug white blouse and grey plaid skirt. A dull outfit for such a bright girl. But it wasn't her fault she had to wear a uniform. He knew what the girls had to wear and he knew she was a little older than the rest of the girls in her class. She was in his Senior class he remembered. She was ravishing. Utterly fucking gorgeous and he couldn't deny it. Ethan tried his hardest not to look down her body. But he found himself holding back more than he thought was normal. She was normally very shy, sat in the back, had her head low during class, fiddled with her pen a lot. She had cute quirks that he caught onto early in the year. She was always the first to hand in her paper, and it was always excellent, had neat handwriting and wonderful thoughts - but she refused to participate in class discussions. He never thought anything of her silence, so he thought it was strange that she would come to his class unannounced and during a time she wasn't allowed. He knew she knew the rules that had been set in place for all four years and even before that.

She took a step inside the room, hands toying with the white bottom button of her blouse. A small smile rushed to her face at the sight of his eyes lingering on her patiently.

“Can I help you?” He ushered her forward, earning him a small nod and the view of her turning around the shut the door softly behind her. He took note that she twisted the lock quickly, secretively. His eyes flickered with confusion at her actions, but he shook his head to rid the look before she turned back around and took a step closer to him with a nervous huff from her rosy lips. If he looked closer, he might see her visibly shaking.

“You know I don’t usually offer help during lunch,” he explained, knowing she knew, but making it clear that she was breaking the rules. He felt bad for a moment that he sounded so harsh and cold. He was unsure why she was even here, she was the top of her class - she’d always had a steady A in the class - and every other class he’s sure. Surely she didn't really need the help.

“I know Mr. Dolan I’m sorry, I just need a little bit of help,” she finally spoke, doe eyes blinking a few times at him, showing off her long lashes. He saw that her pupils were dilated but chose to ignore it. He didn't want to make any assumptions that weren't true.

“You can come back 5th hour if you’d like, I don't really have the time during lunch...Y/n right?” He pondered, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest while he stared her down. God she was beautiful.

“Uh yeah.” A sweet smile makes it’s way to her face, along with a pinky blush. She rocks back and forth on her heels, a nervous habit he’s noticed a few times this year. She doesn't ask many questions, but when she does she always falls into that habit. She just never knew what to do with herself when it came to him.

“Well, Y/n just come back in a few hours with any questions you have and we can go from there, sound good?” The way she’s making his heart race is making him sweat, his hand coming up to loosen the tie from around his neck. He felt like he might choke if she kept batting her eyelashes at him like that.

“You don’t even have a second to listen?” she simpered, dipping her head to the side and giving him her best puppy dog eyes. There was a glimmer in her eyes he hadn't ever seen before, it had him clearing his throat once more. He really wanted to cut her some slack, just feeling the nerves radiating off of her was making him nervous now. The way she’d said it made it seem like she came to talk to him about a personal problem, and that alone had him tensing up from his neck to his shoulders. He’s not really all that good with personal problems, hell he’s not even good with his own. Plus if this is true, he doesn't know why in the hell she would go to him and not any of the many female teachers in the building who were far more equipped to help.

“I really don't mean to be bothering you, I can see your really busy. I’m just kind of nervous about my grades and with finals coming up I’m getting in my head about all of the work...” she carries on, resulting to chewing on her bottom lip to ease the nerves coursing through her.

“There’s really nothing to worry about, Y/n. You’ve always excelled in this class and I’m sure the final won’t be any different. I can assure you that you’ll find it easy. I can give you extra study material if you’d like, just to freshen up.” He really was trying to pacify her, not knowing exactly what to say to someone that was so nervous about a class that was clearly so easy for them. Not only that but she kept chewing on her fucking lip and it was driving him mad. She wouldn't even meet his eyes, seemingly making it worse for him.

“Honestly...that’s not really my problem,” she admitted with a sigh while she stepped the tiniest bit closer, noticing his eyes flicker down to where her silky smooth thighs rubbed together while she walked, “I kind of need some personal advice, sir. It’ll only take a second.”

The look she was giving him from under her long lashes was void of any of the shyness he’d seen moments before, no. This time he could see something devious and lustful pooling in her dilated pupils. She watched him closely as a look of confusion took over his handsome features once again. He chose to ignore the fact that she was now standing directly in front of his desk, keeping his eyes trained solely on her face and nowhere else.

“I think a female teacher would be better fit to counsel you with a personal problem, miss Y/l/n. I’m afraid I wouldn't be too much help,” he smiled softly at her, eyes full of sympathy. So handsome. “But I do advise you to get back to lunch before an administrator finds you in here. I don’t think they’d be too happy about seeing a student roaming the halls when it’s such a nice day outside.”

“Sir, I don't think you understand,” she rushes, “I really need your help. I came to you for a reason.”

He watches her tongue dart out and wet her lips quickly, but he noticed nonetheless. He notices a lot of the things she does.

“Is it serious? If it’s serious you should see the principal. But you really should get back to lunch, Y/n,” he urges on before she has a chance to answer, “You may come back 5th hour if you’d like. I’ll have more time to talk. But it’s best if you get back to your friends.” He’s nervous about how close her body is, breath turning shallow from the sweet smell of her perfume.

Her brows dip down as she huffs, frustrated that he’s not catching onto her obvious flirting - and if he is, that he’s not giving her anything to work with. Ethan sits upright just as she rounds his desk, the toe of her shoe pressing against the wheel to roll the chair back further. He stays still, staring up at her looming frame over him, too shocked to do anything else. If he was expecting anything from her, it definitely wasn't that. He feels the soft tips of her hair rubbing against his cheekbone just as she swings her leg over his exposed lap, fitting to him snug. She’s straddling him, clothed core pressed right up against his bulge. Her skirt was bunched up over her thighs, smooth skin exposed for him to touch if he wished.

“You see the thing is...none of the female teachers have what I want...what I need,” she whispers, staring into his hazel eyes that gawk at her twirling his tie between her fingers. Her tone is suggestive, seductive, everything it shouldn't be towards her teacher.

“Miss Y/l/n, this is extremely inappropriate,” he grunts, wanting to push her off of his lap in shock, but instead raising his hands so he’s not touching her at all. If someone tries to come in he doesn't want them to see his hands even near her body that fits with his so...perfectly. No he needs to focus.

“I’m just really stressed and anxious sir,” she whispers again, running her hands down his front and noticing how firm he was beneath the material of his dress shirt. She sighs as her pussy clenches at the thought of what resides beneath, “I haven't had sex in months which is far too long. I just need to be fucked right.”

“Y/n get off. This is against the rules and you shouldn't be here,” he spoke sternly, as much as he could through his voice shaking. He expected her to look hurt, maybe even offended at him rejecting her in such an embarrassing way, but he only saw a smirk.

“Mr. Dolan I need a man,” she hummed, “a man that will fuck me nice and hard. I need you Mr. Dolan. I need you to fuck me.” She popped her lip out into a pout, still running her hands up and down his chest until she hooked her arms around his neck and leaned in close to his lips. If he just leaned forward a bit they would be kissing.

He really didn't expect for this normally quiet and shy girl on top of him to be so bold. He had never seen her like this and never thought in a million years these words would be tumbling from her mouth. He gasps quickly when she reaches down to tug at his belt buckle, staring down with a hungry look on her face, eye fucking him.

This had never happened before and he wasn't really sure what to do. Normally the advances from the girls were subtle and harmless, but this was...this was dangerous in many ways. To say his morals were floating around in his head in a jumbled mess because he can feel the heat from her pussy against his dick is an understatement. He wanted it but he didn't want to want it. He grabbed onto her wrist in an attempt to stop her, watching her pout return to her face at the fact that he tried to stop her.

“I’m well aware of your intentions Y/n. But this is wrong. I will not have sex with a student. No if, ands, or buts. Now leave and I promise we won’t ever have to talk about it again. I won’t tell anyone about this.” He meant it too. He didn't want a single person knowing that his student was sitting pretty on his lap in her...sexy uniform that wouldn't be sexy on anyone else but her if he’s being honest, “But I want you to get off my lap right now.”

She sat for a moment, just staring at him to gauge his reaction before she slowly let go of his belt, looking as if she’d admitted defeat. “Okay...I’m sorry I broke the rules, sir.” But just as it had before, that same sensual grin came onto her face, sending a nice thumping from his heart through his chest once again as she said, “I’m so sorry that I've been a bad girl.”

She slid her hips forward and back again repeatedly, not stopping even when his breathing stopped short and she felt his heart beating rapidly beneath her fingertips. She grabbed into the collar of his shirt, using it for something to hold onto as she rolled her hips into his, making it unbearable for him to stay in line. He watched in awe while she untucked her shirt from the waistband of her skirt, pulling it out and slowly undoing the buttons, one by one until she revealed the soft pink of her bra and the curves of her hips. She was breathtaking and he couldn't deny that if he wanted to. She pushed her core harder against his slacks, loving the pressure it put against her clit. His eyes traveled down the expanse of her body to where their hips met, feeling like he might pass out if she doesn't stop now.

If he’s honest, he’s wanted this for quite some time. She’s just...something else. He’s caught himself staring at her longer than he should in lectures and she doesn't know it but he can see right up her skirt when she sits at her desk, his eyes drifting down far too often from his own desk. But he would never imagine himself acting on anything. The consequences that would follow if anyone ever caught him kissing her like he desired to, were scary to say the least. But he wanted to so bad. That thought had him gulping while he looked at her all spread out on his lap and grinding herself against him. Her head was resting against her shoulder, a blissed out look on her face while she rolled over his clothed dick, the skin of her thighs causing a rubbing sound that he didn't mind much.

He was suddenly happy for a split second that she locked the door, even though he knew someone would be able to see the shadow through the glass window if they looked hard enough. He also know that the administrators and janitors had a key to his door and would surely use it if they had any indication something insubordinate was going on inside. It had him all jittery the think that someone could catch them even if he hasn't touched her...yet. He hated the fact that he was tempted, he was so tempted to fuck her senseless that it almost killed him to not have his hands dipping into her sides and roll her harder against him.

His cheeks were heating up fast by the quiet moan that emits from her lips, soft and angelic. He knows that if he lets it slide they will only get louder and he doesn't want a single soul to hear. He knows that the building is deserted, but just the thought of someone hearing her sounds is terrifying and sends a panic through him, causing a hand to fly up and cover her mouth, the other to wrap around her throat lightly. It was the first time he’s touched her and he felt like his hands were on fire just by touching her skin. He was going to hell.

She stared at him over his hands, breathing out through her nose and waiting for him to explain why he’d shushed her so frantically. He looks mad. And he is. He’s fucking pissed off that he wants her so bad and that he’s so hard beneath her he’s worried he’s leaking precum. He’s mad that she’s put him in a position that has his brain so out of order that he can't think of anything else but ramming his dick into her against his desk. He’s mad that he’s never wanted to fuck someone so bad in his life and he’s mad that she has to be his student. He’s mad because he wants her, and not just right now, but always and it’s driving him crazy.

“Don’t you realize what will happen if I fuck you, Y/n? Do you fucking know?” He seethed, a hand reaching to grip at her ass deliciously, leaving a smack against the flesh and feeling it jiggle in his hands. She jumps away from his hand against her mouth from the contact, surprised that he made such a risky move when he’s been frozen like a statue the whole time.

“You’ll cum...I’ll cum...we’ll have mind blowing sex,” she answers calmly, so sure it makes him more mad because he’s certain she’s right.

“Wrong. I’ll get fired. I will be out on my ass before I can even blink,” he snapped, “I will lose everything. We will both be in a fuck ton of trouble, including you...then you’ll really be stressed won’t you kitten?” he hums, a smirk plastered onto his face as he leans in to ghost his lips over her own, testing the line before stepping over it. She’s pouting agains, wanting him to kiss her and show her what he’s really thinking because this denial is bullshit and she can tell he wants it. She can tell from his hard-on that’s pressing against her right now.

She nods, not wanting him to deny her but still understanding why he’s so scared to want it. But Ethan takes her by surprise when he places both hands under her ass and lifts her up like a feather. She clutches his biceps tightly from his sudden movements, clinging onto him just until he sets her on the edge of his desk. He had one hand buried in her hair, making a fist and pulling.

“So I’m gonna need you to keep that pretty mouth closed okay?” he growled, sinister glare set straight into her eyes. He was serious. No games here. He was holding back a smile at the giggle she let out next, overjoyed when he spread her legs wider. She’s keeping herself up on her elbows, grinning up at his handsome face, tempted to pull him down by his tie for a kiss. But he still hasn't gotten an answer.

He grips her chin angrily, making sure she’s looking right into his hazel eyes, “Am I understood?” So stern. She knew that he was trying to assert himself, make sure she knew he was in the position of power. But he had nothing to worry about when it came to her, that’s all she wants right now. To have him take control and use her in the best way.

“Yeah, daddy,” she simpered once again, a tiny pout on her face. He could feel the blood rushing to his cock in an instant. He’s never been called that before but something about the way she said it had him addicted already, “I promise I’ll keep you a secret, I promise I won’t tell,” she carried on, dragging a finger across his sharp jawline, leaning up just enough to leave a peck against the skin of his neck. When she leaned back, she was biting her bottom lip again.

He couldn't think about how wrong this was. He couldn't think about the fact that he was possibly taking advantage of her when he was adult and was the one responsible for saying no. So instead of thinking he pulled her to the edge of the desk, tugging harshly on her plaid skirt. She sat in her matching baby pink panties, so delicate for such a dirty girl. He took the time to dip his hand down, cupping her heat and rubbing slowly, torturing her like she’d tortured him for so long. He only toyed with her for a moment longer before ripping her bra off, panties off as well, he groaned from deep in his chest as the sight of her dripping core.

He wanted to take it slow, feel every curve of her body, every inch of her skin - but considering his compromising position he needed to make it fast. He couldn't waste time. He needed to fuck her hard and fast like she wanted and get it out of his system because it’s eating him alive. He didn't have the time to caress her and kiss her tenderly. He just couldn't take the time right now. The thought of someone coming to knock on the door while he had her splayed out wide and wet on his desk was something that chilled him to the bone.

He paused for just a second so that the rapid thoughts in his head could quiet down and let him focus: What if she’s underage? What if someone comes? This is so wrong. You’re gonna get fired. But how could he ever say no?

Instead of getting lost in his thoughts and overthinking the entire situation, he chose not to think at all - let his instincts take in. He quickly grasped the cold metal of his belt buckle, peeling it from his belt loops on his slacks and pushing them all the way down his legs and to the side. He watched her gazing at him dreamily, so focused on his large hands pulling his massive length out for her to see, sitting so deliciously in his palm. She licked her lips when she noticed the tip was the same reddish pink as his freshly kissed lips. He tossed his underwear into the pile of clothes on the floor beside the desk, forgotten. He leaned over her, taking another second to land his lips on hers once again, tasting her chapstick and feeling his heart warm at the way she leans back up when he tries to pull away, sighing into his mouth.

When he breaks free he’s grabbing at himself to rub the head of his cock up and down her wet opening. Ethan teased her slowly, tapping at her clit just to hear her gasp and jump beneath his touch. She clenches with a wince when he tries to push in slowly, never has she been with anyone this big and she hope he understood from the whimper that slipped out. He gave her a soft smile, rubbing his hand over her soft thigh in understanding, making sure that when he tries again he takes his time.

He has to stop halfway, throwing his head back from the way she grips him so tight, overwhelmed. Y/n grips his arms, bracing herself for him to sink all the way inside of her. He captures her lips with his own as he rammed his cock into her time and time again, relishing in the warm tight wetness of her pussy that he’s not stopped thinking about since she unknowingly opened her legs from beneath her desk months ago and he caught sight of heaven on earth. His hips met hers with a harsh smack, loud enough to be heard from outside the door, but a delicious sound to his ears anyway. Ethan was over the moon, buried deep into the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, who happened to be none other than his student. He breathed hard when his gaze went from her bright eyes down to her chest that rose and fell rapidly, down to where he disappeared inside of her heat.

Y/n couldn't hardly breathe just looking at his body so firm above her, tie swinging with every thrust of his hips, buttons undone at the top of his shirt. She was tempted to shut her eyes simply from the pleasure and euphoria that took over her every nerve, but refrained when she saw the blissed out look on his face she’d only ever seen in her dreams.

She had envisioned this exact moment so many times within her daydreams, scribbling mindlessly while she watched him talk about nonsense in front of the class, scanning her eyes over his front the best that she could when he wasn't looking. It was maddening to want his cock so bad. She’d dreamt about being fucked against this very desk. She’d woken up in a sweaty gasping frenzy from the vivid image of what she is seeing right now. But this time it was real and she was being fucked on his desk. The grunts and groans emitting from his mouth weren't a figment of her imagination any longer. He was ramming into her shaking body so hard that the pens near her head were knocked to the floor with a clatter, binders falling, papers flicking off the wood and to the ground silently. But he paid no attention to the racket, only her loud breathing and gushing sounds coming from where he did his best to ruin her.

A spark of anger arose from deep within his chest when he looks up to find her grinning at him, a gloating sneaky little glare that reads “you love this and you know it.” It made him angry because she did this, she walked in here everyday in her short she knew was too short, she came and sought him out, made him weak, made him want her. With an angry “fuck” Ethan’s wrapping one hand around her throat - not too tight, but tight enough to make a point and grumbling low, “You knew what you were doing didn't you?”

She grabs at his wrist, hand fumbling with his fingers for a second, just feeling at them lightly with a smile, nodding her head and batting her eyelashes. She could feel her thighs shaking and tightening around his waist, her heels pushing into his thighs to push him into her harder.

“Such a fucking slut...is this what you wanted?” he continues to growl from within his throat, hard staring her with dark, lust-filled eyes.

“Y-yes,” she gasped, a strangled sound coming from her throat from the pressure of his hand around her airway, “fuck me harder daddy please. Love it so much.”

Ethan had become hot and sweaty quickly, a patch forming on the front of his shirt from where he’d soaked through, enough to have him yanking at his tie and hastily removing it from around his neck. He suddenly felt very large in a shirt that normally fits so well, but then again he was never pushing against the buttons and railing a beautiful girl into his desk, so that might be a factor to think about.

“Fuckin’ hot in here,” he grumbled to himself as he unbuttoned his blazer all the way down, feeling the cool air touch his chest for the first time and sighing at how good it felt. He still hasn't stilled his hips, his rhythm even and steady. It impressed her that he had a will to keep going to matter what and she just knew that even if someone did knock on that door - he wouldn't stop. He would finish what he started. But looking at his bare torso that showed under the unbuttoned shirt still had her breathless and swooning. She hadn't expected him to take his clothes off, too worried about how fast he needed to be for obvious reasons. But she wasn't complaining by any means.

The slither of tan skin that she could see had her whimpering and throwing her head back on the desk, nails reaching beneath the flailing fabric to rake her nails down the smooth surface - over every bump and ridge. She forced herself to open her eyes and appreciate the way his abs flexed with every thrust into her, the way his eyebrows were drawn down in concentration, the way he bit at his bottom lip and watched her closely. She hardly expected him to grip at the back of her neck to pull her up just enough to bury his face in the skin of her neck - kissing fiercely. His teeth dug in in the most delicious way, sucking on the sore spots and admiring the dark purple that was left behind from his assault. They would be nearly impossible to cover, and that made him proud. With a grin he gripped her hips tight, ramming himself into her harder still, chuckling at the bright red of her skin from his hips pounding into her own. If she wanted rough, rough was what she was going to get.

“Yessss daddy right there right there right there-” she screeched so loud he was sure the entire city would be able to hear. But he didn't have the heart to stop her. He craved to hear that desperate howl, frantic and scared he was going to stop hitting that sweet spot that drove her to madness. Well, he wouldn't dream of it.

“You like that spot kitten? Hm? Right here?” he mocked, pushing a hand down on her tummy and driving into her deep, stilling before pulling out all the way, and slamming right back in.

She whimpered pathetically, throwing her head back and trying to crawl away from how deep he was. She’s sure that if she didn't want to look tough, she would be crying right now. But she just wanted to be good for him.

When he offered two fingers for her to suck on, she greedily opened her mouth, tongue out, flicking around the digits while they settled against the flesh. Her eyes trained on his own menacing hazel ones while she sucked, letting him gag her if he pleased, adoring the way she felt so full in not one but two places. The tears brimmed in her eyes while he pushed his fingers to the back of her throat, fucking her mouth with his hand and loving the gagging sound she gave him.

“God look at you taking me so well...sucking daddy’s fingers like the good girl you are...so pretty,” he whispered, almost to himself with how low the volume of his voice was. But she heard, and it still made her feel good. The ball inside of her started to grow bigger the more he pushed into her, the harder he pounding, the more he gagged her, the more he praised and degraded her all at once. It was all too much and if he kept going she would have no choice but to let the fire consume her.

She bucked her hip up, taking notice of the sound of crumpling paper underneath her and giggling when she remembered it was probably papers he was grading from before. If only they knew. If only they could see the way their teacher fucked her raw and wild on his desk, fingers dipping into her skin, groaning low and dark into her ear, smashing his lips against hers like he really meant it. Did he really mean it? If only they could know that the crumple of the papers he was going to hand back would be from their sexual escapade happening right now. It all made her head spin in the best way.

Her screaming only rose in volume, his eyes widening and a hand rising to cover her opened mouth. He gave her a brilliant smile, but a warning still lingered in his eyes that looked down on her. “Shhh baby,” he shushed her, feeling her giggle behind his hand, her eyes shining at him innocently. But he knew so much different. He pulled his hand away only to lift her from the desk once more, shuffling her weight up his body, loving the way she fit him so perfectly. He held her in his arms, her own circling around his neck and kissing at his cheekbones lovingly.

Ethan was still buried to the hilt, so deep in her pussy, so warm. He took her ass into his hands and bounced her up and down on his muscular body, smacking her body down onto his own and sucking at her nipples while she moaned repeatedly above him.

Y/n hooks her ankles behind his waist, bucking her hips against his because she just couldn't get enough. He was addicting. She adored the way he gazed at her, sucked at her tits, treated her pussy like gold, kissed her like there was this passion he’s waited to set free for so long, adored the way he did a complete 180 from a professional that was scared to let loose, to a fuck machine that broke her apart with his dick. She moaned hungrily while she looked down at him suckling on her left breast, her bud rolling against his skilled tongue. She wondered for a moment what it would feel like on her pussy, wondered if it’s everything she imagined it would be. She had no doubts she was right.

“How do I feel baby? Is daddy doing a good job?” he growls, looking for the reassurance he honestly didn't need. He knew he was doing amazing by the shaking in her thighs in his hands. But he still wanted to hear her filthy little mouth say it.

“So good daddy, doing so good,” she emphasized every word, whimpering and moaning and gasping like a complete mess that she is. She would be okay if she finished like this, with him holding her like she doesn't weigh a pound, ramming her down onto his cock hard and fast and unbelievably easy. And she nearly complains when he starts to back up and tumble into the desk chair. It rolls slightly under the pairs weight.

He wraps her lips within a tender kiss once again, breaking free with a sharp intake. “Ride me kitten,” he grunted, continuing to kneed the flesh of her ass in his hands. He doesn't know why he’s doing it, but he knows he likes doing it. And he knows she likes him doing it by the content smile stretched across her face.

She nodded at his demand, situating herself against his lap to find leverage before she started to bounce with purpose.

She continued to sink down, wiggling her hips just to tease him when she felt the small tickle of the tuft of hair near his belly button. She was clenching, grinding, genuinely throwing it back on him in a way he’s never seen before, and he doesn't think after this he’ll be able to keep himself in check.

She moaned in his ear just by the feeling of his large hands caressing up her back and down to her ass to leave a harsh slap, surely leaving a lovely red splotch behind. He found the strength to raise his head from her tits, tightening his grip on her ass and moaning softly at how good she felt, “Such a good girl for me. Ride my fuckin dick, yeah that’s it. Make me cum, baby. Be good and make daddy proud of you. Make me cum.”

Ethan could feel his orgasm coming in strong, racing through him fast. He sat back in the chair, closing his eyes and really feeling all of her walls contract around his shaft and hug him so tight. He breathed out hard through his nose, trying to decide whether he would have the strength to hold it if he opened his eyes again.

Y/n grinned at his struggle, bouncing faster and faster, moaning louder and longer. His jaw clenched with every swear word that tumbled from her rosy lips, reminding her of just how handsome he was. When she let go around him, her juices spraying out against the tan skin of his thighs, he thought he might lose it at the sight. She was writhing and dragging her nails down his arms, scratching at his skin.

“Fuuuckkkkk oh my fucking God that’s so...oh my fucking God right there,” she screeching louder than ever before, shocked that she hasn't felt him release into her yet.

The heat that had just erupted inside of her was unlike anything she’d felt before. Certainly one of the hardest if not the best orgasms she’s ever had. He gave her a cocky grin when he smacked his hand down onto her ass one final time before lifting her away. He couldn't risk cumming in her and her not be on birth control considering he hadn't used a condom for obvious reasons.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered her hotly, voice low and stern. She dropped to the ground with wobbly knees and a racing heart, her pussy clenching around nothing in particular now that she was empty. She still felt herself dripping in arousal against the floor beneath her, knowing she will most likely have to go home and change after this and feign illness. The soreness in her limbs already tells her walking won’t be the best option for the rest of the day.

She took him gently into her hand, wrapping her plump lips around his swollen head to suckle and kiss it gently. She wanted to drive him crazy, wanted him to look at her with pleading eyes and a panic in him that she won’t let him cum. When she removes her lips, she receives that very same look, begging without actually saying a word. So licks up the underside of him, a slow, hot stroke of her tongue. Messy and filled with saliva. He watched her carefully, resting a hand within her hair as she enveloped him in her wet mouth. He thought he might pass out when she pushed him all the way inside her mouth, deepthroating him with tears forming at the corner of her eyes. She took it like she was forced, even though he had simply rested his head back and let her work at him. It was all too much. She started to pump what she didn't have in her mouth, feeling him twitch against her tongue and buck his hips up randomly, gagging her.

“Y/n I’m gonna-” he’s cut short with a long breath from his nose, clenching his jaw tight while he finished down her throat in long hot spurts. She was clenching her eyes shut and taking it like the good girl she was, swallowing every drop he gave her. It surprised her that it was sweeter than she thought, all thoughts of the liquid being bitter now gone. He continued to groan above her, sensitive and wincing from her hand that kept pumping him. She knew he was completely finished, she removed him from her mouth with a pop and an angelic smile, kissing his tip one last time.

He was frozen in his chair, frozen and shocked and fucked out and scared. Scared because he’s never cum that hard in his life ever. Shocked because he didn't want her to go. Frozen because she was rising her feet already, giggling while she gathered her clothing from the ground and got dressed in quick motions. He couldn't even find it in himself to move from how hard he’d just orgasmed.

He watched her calmly, arms dangling over the arms of the chair, limp and lifeless, dick laying against his belly. He smiled softly when she leaned down to leave a breathless kiss on his lips, then his cheek, then his jaw while she held his face gently. “Thank you daddy,” she whispered, kissing his jaw just one more time before she leaned back to send him a wink, “I promise I won’t tell.”

Ethan sat still while she pulled her panties up her legs, then her skirt, before buttoning her blouse and tucking it in to try and look the same as she did when she walked through the door. His head spun at the swivel of her hips as she tugged up the skirt, knowing if he had more time he’d fuck her again. She grabbed her bag from the floor, swung it over her shoulder and looked back at him with a grin, raising her hand to wave at him just as she opened the door and slipped out into the hallway, leaving him alone. The door closed with a click, normally it was quiet, but now that the moans and slapping of skin were absent, it sounded deafening.

He looked across his destroyed desk, papers strewn every which direction, pens on the floor, papers wet from her juices, seeing it in a totally new light than he had moments before. He scooped the pens from the ground, then the runaway papers, then his clothing that he had ripped from his body in a moment of weakness. That’s what it was right? A moment of absolute weakness that can never ever happen again.

It was just a moment that will be erased in history, never spoken about. He tried cleaning his desk up as neatly as possible, trying not to worry about the fact that he was naked, that is, until the bell rang and panic set in.

He fucked a student. He actually fucked her. He didn't just have sex with her but he fucked her. He’s naked right now, in his classroom, cleaning up the desk that he fucked her on. He’s going to have to teach after this. He’s going to have to care about teaching her classmates after this. He’s going to have to think of her pussy now when he jerks off. He’s going to have to try and forget the way she just rode him in his chair like a dirty little slut. He’s going to have to try and forget the way she’d called him daddy. He’s going to have to forget that he wants to do it again.

“Fuck.”

tags: @dolandolll @stayalivw

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mysterytickingegos · 3 years

Text

I’ve Created a Monster

Pairing: Darkiplier x Clairvoyant!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2,480

Summary: After a bad date, you made a rather interesting friend. But better yet, you discovered something just as interesting about yourself. This something leads to a very exhilarating part of your life, but you learn the hard way that it’s not quite as glamorous an adventure as it may seem. The last person you’d expect is the one to bring you back to reality.

Anonymous Request: If I may request! :) Can I have a darkiplier x fem!reader fic with the prompts 37, 44, 45? After the events of wkm? Just some hurt and comfort to give me dem feelz 😀👍 Maybe Dark is the one saying it please? Much thanks!

Authors Note: Probably not what you were going for with the prompts but I hope you still enjoy it!

Want to read more?

[Image Description: A Gif of Darkiplier from the “horror” branch of “A Date with Markiplier,” speaking to the viewer at a table, while another image of him leans away and yells. End Description]

Junk mail, bill, wrong address, junk mail...

The usual. You weren’t sure what ‘cool thing’ you were expecting to get in the mail in 2020 but the disappointment was there anyway. Just as you shut your mailbox you heard somebody coming down the stairs and cringed, bracing yourself as you hoped it wasn’t who you thought it was. But of course it was.

Your upstairs neighbor, AKA the worst date ever. “Ah, hey Y/n.”

“Hi Mark...” You gave him a sad attempt at a wave, and he gave you a nod, walking over to his own mailbox.

‘How’s it going?”

“Great, yeah...you?”

“Good.”

And with that the room dissolved into awkward silence, and you took your leave back up the stairs. Funny enough these moments used to be filled with dumb jokes and flirting, that was until he finally asked you out. You had been overjoyed, happy that someone had taken an interest in you and glad that something was breaking your dull everyday routine. Little did you know the highlight of the date would be the end. He had taken you to an expensive restaurant only to reveal that he had ‘forgotten’ his wallet (which ended up falling out of his pocket in front of you in the theater.) Then he had been upset with you for accidentally falling asleep to what must’ve the most boring Rom-com you had ever been subjected to. You both seemed to be in silent agreement that this should never, ever happen again.

But unbeknownst to you and Mark, somebody else had been lingering around. That was the first time that specific somebody had decided to visit you, making a sucky date the least of your concerns. You spent the rest of your night watching compilations on YouTube and eating chocolate Ice Cream. You kept going from sad to angry over your horrible day in your head.

Were you only worth asking out for a free meal? A meal that for you took about half your grocery budget. You should’ve given that ass a piece of your mind.

You sniffed, wiping your eyes and scarfing down even more ice cream. “Damn it.”

“Aw, don’t cry, darling. It wasn’t that bad.”

You screamed and nearly jumped out of your skin, scrambling away from the man now next to you on the couch. The moment your feet hit the ground you grabbed your phone and locked yourself in your bedroom. “Who the fuck are you?!”

“Let’s say I'm a... friend of a friend. I thought I’d check up on you after that train wreck.” He spoke through the door. You heard a laugh layer over his voice, and wondered if somebody else was there.

“I’m calling the police!” You shouted back.

Then you heard the same voice just in front of you, clearly amused with the situation. “You’re welcome to do so, though I’m not sure they’d believe you.” It was the same man from the couch, smiling at you. You noticed how he seemed to be glitching, and how as his head tilted to the side his figure had duplicated in blue for a split second. “As I’m sure you can tell by now, I’m not exactly human.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I’d like to get to know you, Y/n. Is that so much to ask?”

The first few nights that you had stayed up a little too late and wound up speaking that deranged spirit again, you had been terrified. But soon enough you learned to enjoy his company. Sure, he could be a little unsettling at times, particularly when he was irritated and got...cold. Not just figuratively, which he was, but literally. The temperature in your apartment would drop a significant amount and you would change subjects shivering. But all in all, from what you could see behind that wall he had up, he was simply lost at worst, not exactly evil. And it was nice to not have to be so lonely all the time.

But during one of these visits, early on, you had decided to ask why.

“Why me, of all people?”

The man you had come to know simply as ‘Dark’ leaned in, lighting up as though he had been waiting on you to ask that this entire time. “Oh, Y/n. Don’t you know?”

“Why would I ask if I already knew?”

He let out an impatient sigh. ‘That’s...I was being...” He glanced up at you just in time to catch the smile playing at your lips after successfully ruining his aesthetic. “You know what? You can stay in the dark.”

“No no no, I’ll shut up, just tell me.” You turned to face him on the couch, tucking your legs under yourself.

He left you in suspense for a few moments, before dropping his voice down low when he spoke so you would have to lean closer in just to hear him. “Let’s just say you are...spiritually attuned to my world.”

“Spiritually attuned?”

“Yes, you are psychic, a medium, clairvoyant. Whatever you want to call it.” He explained. “You are a magnet to things outside the realm of the natural. A strange pair, aren’t we?”

And that was all it took, so many unexplained events from your past were now explained, and a world of possibilities was opened to you. You must’ve spent weeks researching how to harness your abilities, starting the second he left. Sure, most sites and blogs were absolutely full of it but you got the gist. With that and some common sense, how much could go wrong?

You started to take silly jobs on the internet, from old women who thought something was off with their mirrors to amateur ghost hunters who wanted a ‘consultant.’ It took you a while to gain some confidence that you weren’t just pulling this stuff out of thin air, that you hadn’t lost your mind. But after a few months, once you hit that learning curve, man it was fun.

Your latest job was a little more hardcore, a young family wanting help to push a poltergeist out of their new home. Their stories had chilled you to the bone, but you were happy to help. Your evaluation at the house went fine, nothing too far past what you were used to. Except, the entire time you were there you felt as though you had weight sitting on your chest. You could barely listen to the poor couple tell you what they experienced due to a faint scratching feeling at the back of your mind. You weren’t an expert yet but you could tell that whatever this thing was, it did not welcome you there. Worse yet, the feeling of being drained that the couple mentioned was certainly affecting you as well. Perhaps worse.

But all that accomplished was making you even more determined to rid the house of it. You took notes for your research later, tried to communicate in the most active part of the house (with no results,) and gave the couple the best advice you could at the moment.

“Until this thing is gone, it’s best you stay somewhere else.”

A few nights later, you had just finished packing your bag and begun heading for the door when you heard Dark just behind you. “Good evening, Y/n.” His voice was layered, followed by a subtle echo bouncing off the walls of your small apartment. When you turned to face him you saw he was already frowning, having realized you were on your way out. “Where are you off to so late?“

“I’m going to hang out with some friends. So I’m sorry, you’ll have to find some other way to entertain yourself tonight, instead of ya know, slowly but surely turning me into a nocturnal hermit.“ You joked, adjusting the tote bag on your shoulder.

He chuckled, bringing his hands behind his back. “I hate to break this to you my dear, but you were there well before we met.”

“Ha ha.” You turned to leave but were stopped short when you saw that he had apparated directly in front of you.

“What’s in the bag?” He asked, starting to reach for it curiously before you stepped back.

“Nothing.” You said, a little too quickly. “Just some party supplies, alright?”

He raised his brow, no longer amused. “...Convincing. Is it really so difficult to be honest with me?”

“Oh don’t even try and pull that card, you won’t even tell me why you’re haunting that jerk upstairs.”

His jaw clenched, and he looked away from you. “That’s different. Bringing such things to light would only do more harm than good.”

“Well, I may be wrong but...my thing is kinda the same. And I like what we’ve got going on so just let it go. Please?”

Dark stayed quiet, peeved off and clearly even more curious than he was before. Finally, he side-stepped out of your way, “Just be careful.”

When you got to the house, you were careful. Keeping lights on and keeping quiet while you did everything your research said you were supposed to. As you did, the spirit was also quiet, too quiet. And on your way home, you kept waiting for that heavy feeling on your chest to fade away.

Your apartment was freezing when you stepped out of the bathroom after your shower. Cold air brushed over your shoulders as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “Dark?” You called out, looking around for him. This wasn’t like him. He usually made you aware of his presence as soon as he showed up. You walked into your bedroom and when you locked eyes with another in the mirror, you froze.

This wasn’t like Dark, because it wasn’t him.

Instead, the person standing behind you was a very decrepit and very angry old woman, seemingly fading in and out of reality as she glared at you. “Y̸o̵u̶ ̴s̴h̷o̵u̶l̶d̸ ̸h̵a̵v̷e̷ ̵l̸e̴f̷t̶ ̷w̶e̶l̵l̶ ̸e̴n̵o̷u̶g̷h̶ ̶a̸l̶o̴n̸e̷.̴“

The mirror shattered and you whipped around to face her, but she wasn’t there. The air whirling around the place started to pick up, and picture frames flew off the wall at you, then other objects that had decorated your room. You tried to flee but your front door wouldn’t budge. You started to bang on it, crying in fear and praying that anyone would hear you. Next thing you knew though, you were flung towards the wall.

Finally, everything settled. The weight was off your chest, but there was plenty of pain there in it’s place. You slowly pulled yourself into a sitting position, then wiped the tears off your face with one hand and held the other over your ribs. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, waiting for something to happen and your heartbeat overpowered the ringing silence in your ears. You wanted to get your phone, to call for help but you were terrified of gaining attention again. You didn’t even really stop shaking until you heard a familiar voice.

“...Y/n?” Dark didn’t see you when he first showed up, just the disaster area that was your living room. Once had seen you, he was beside you in a blink of an eye. You didn’t even think about it before you wrapped your arms around him. He only gave you a moment of comfort before he pulled back, looking over you in concern. “What happened? Who hurt you?”

You couldn’t really get much out between pained wincing as he scooped you into his arms. “It was a -Ow- s-spirit.”

He laid you down on the couch as gently as he could, and you could see his face change from confusion to recognition to irritation. “Why, pray tell, would a spirit be here?”

“I may have taken a job to get rid of it...” You muttered under your breath.

“Unbelievable.” He shook his head, about to say something else before he stopped himself. Instead he moved his focus to your hand, moving it to reveal the dark bruise over your ribs.

“See, I knew you weren’t gonna like it.”

“You going off and messing with things you haven’t even begun to understand? Of course I don’t like it.” His figure glitched and layered itself in different colors before he got up and went to the kitchen.

You scoffed at his remark, trying to sit up. “Hey I understand more than you think, I’ve been doing this crap for months!”

He came back around the corner with an ice pack from your freezer in his hand. “Months?” He apparated in front of you, gently placing the pack down on the bruise, allowing you to squeeze his free hand until the shock wave from the pressure passed over you.

“I started looking into all this after you told me the truth.” You confessed. “I mean with the internet it wasn’t difficult, and I do my due diligence alright? I don’t know what went wrong.”

The aura behind him flashed pure red for just a moment, he approached his next words much softer than usual. “You can’t navigate things like this using the internet, Y/n.”

“Well I didn’t think you’d want to help me help everyone else get rid of their ghosts.”

He scoffed at you, beginning to raise his voice as the aura swapped back to blue. “You were right! I don’t understand why you would want anything to do with this, anyway. Why would you do this to yourself??”

“I thought...I thought it’d be fun-”

“This isn’t a game!”

“You know I really don’t get you, why-”

“Of course you don’t! Do you even know what I am?”

“Well, no...”

“Neither do I.” He growled. His words truly sunk in once you saw the pain behind his eyes. He collected himself, taking a deep breath before continuing, “What I do know, is that I was human once. And people screwing with things that they shouldn’t have for selfish reasons is what turned me into this. Over the years I’ve had to see other terrible things happen to well meaning people. I’ll be damned if you throw yourself into the fire for fun.”

You nodded softly, breaking the intense gaze between you to look as your hands. “...Okay.” You opened your mouth to speak again after that, but decided against it.

“What is it?” Dark asked, trying and failing to hide the impatience in his voice.

“I just didn’t think...well I really didn’t think you’d care. Well, about this part I guess-” You sighed, cutting yourself off this time, rather than rambling.

He was quiet for a moment, placing his hand under your chin and tilting your head up to look at him. “I care...more than you know.” It was the silence after that, that spoke volumes, and even more so the way he moved forward to press his lips to yours. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I have a poltergeist to take care of.”

#darkiplier x reader #darkiplier fanfiction #darkiplier fanfic #darkiplier x y/n #markiplier egos x reader

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unrelenting-jazz-hands · 3 years

Text

He picked the wrong seat.

(This is something that’s been floating in my head. I love college!AUs and I’m just happy to be here. I like the idea of Levi studying to be a social worker and Hange being a behavioural Neuropsychology prof/researcher. plus Hange would have rats... this fic is just a place for her to have rats and rat friends.)

He didn’t know it when he first sat down on the couch, but he should have known it when a woman in maroon sweatpants staggered up to his couch.

She placed the tower of books and papers she was carrying onto the couch with a grunt that let on how heavy the pile had been. She shook out her arms before sitting on the other side of newly formed blockade. Levi glanced her way and leaned over to throw a scowl, to make sure she knew the disruption was not appreciated.

But she just sat quietly and read. So, he didn’t move, he figured it would be fine. He should have moved.

And she just sat quietly and read. So, he didn’t move, he figured it would be fine. He should have moved.

"Hange! Hey, Hange! There you are, why didn't you answer your phone?" A young man jogged over to the woman sitting on the couch next to Levi.

Levi's scowl deepened, and he glanced at his watch, not for the first time in the last 15 minutes. His own class finished over an hour ago, but Isabel's lecture wouldn't be finished for another 45 minutes. It was getting late, and as the air grew colder, the nights were getting darker. He didn't like the idea of her walking home alone at this time of night. Furlan thought he was being dramatic, they weren’t on Understreet anymore.

The kid approached the couch and dropped his bag unceremoniously at her feet. He looked a little older than Isabel. Fuck, he was dreading the day she introduces some dumb boyfriend to him.

The woman slowly looked up and seemed more startled than she should have been to see the kid in front of her. She blinked and looked at her watch.

"Oh, it's 6:45 already? Hey Jean! Sorry, I lost track of time." One of her hands was still on the stack of books that was starting to lean just a little too much for Levi's comfort.

He shifted away and glanced around the room. The atrium was busy and noisy. There wouldn't be anywhere else to sit this side of campus on a gloomy September night. The choices were to either sit here or to stand somewhere like a weirdo. He grumbled to himself and looked back down at his notes.

Jean shrugged, "All good, Hange. But, where's your phone? You didn't see my messages?"

Hange looked down at the report in her hand as though she expected herself to be holding the phone. "Oh... I thought I had it." She attempted to pat down her jacket pockets (of which there were far too many) and then tried to use her foot to move her bag towards her.

Glancing up at the kid with a slight frown, "what's up? Why? Did something happen at the lab?"

"No," Jean said with smile, "Armin was just asking what time he should tell his tutorial the kick-off party starts. And then just to say that the slides for the lecture tomorrow look good."

Levi watched out of the corner of his eyes as Jean bent down to help the woman check her bag for her phone and mumbled, "We really should get you a case you can clip to your belt or something…"

"A-ha!" Hange raised a fist clenched around a flip phone, and then suddenly, she was holding it with two hands.

Her pile of books had had enough and was about to topple over when Levi's arms shot out to steady the tower before it collapsed on the brunette. She hadn't even noticed.

He didn't mean to catch the books before they fell. He really hadn't planned on moving at all; the books weren't even falling his way. It was her own damn fault if she didn't notice. But, his body was just too used to moving quickly to catch pictures, mugs, and lamps before they could reach the floor. It wasn't a coincidence that they didn't have many breakables in the apartment, what with the way Isabel was constantly twirling around and Furlan's sleepwalking.

When Hange did notice, a few seconds later, she let out a startled yelp and attempted to use her whole body to steady her library.

"Shit, no! That's making it worse," Levi said, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He steadied the pile again and kept his arms holding it up for a while longer before shooting a glare to the airhead next to him.

"Sorry, sorry!" Hange said with a laugh. She grinned at him from around the books, "thanks a bunch, though! Wild reflexes!"

He rolled his eyes, "You just weren't paying attention."

She raised an eyebrow and cracked a grin, "what? Were you staring at me?"

Levi felt his cheeks go warm and diverted his gaze from the woman's laughing eyes.

"No, I wasn't," he said curtly, "I was just sitting in the fucking danger zone."

He made sure the books were steadied before he picked up his notebook again.

The kid in front of them coughed and shifted around uncomfortably. "Thanks, man," he said while giving Levi a quick once over. "If those textbooks go down, all the paper she's stuffed into them would have ended up everywhere. It took hours to match the notes up to their text pages again."

Jean reached over and started restacking Hange's stuff on the floor while she held on. She still looked like she found the whole thing much too funny for Levi's liking. He decided not to look her way.

"You should really organize your shit better," Levi mumbled, keeping his eyes on his paper.

Hange leaned her head back against the couch, "aww, man... that's what everyone says. I've tried, guys! It just never lasts." She let out an exasperated sigh.

Jean muttered something too quiet for Levi to catch, but Hange nudged him with her foot and shot him a look.

"Well, enjoy carting around half the library then..." Levi shot her way and that, he hoped, was their last interaction.

Hange looked down at Levi's open binder, which was neatly labelled and visibly well organized.

She let out a small "huh," before turning her attention to the kid again.

"Alright, Jean! Well, the kick-off party starts at 8:30 at the Wallflower. I'll head over after my lectures and locking up the lab." She frowned, "wait, why wouldn't people join? Puppy therapy is always super busy."

Jean sighed and leaned his head to the side, "yeah, but Hange. I mean, the hype just isn't the same with rats. Plus, the lab is intense and the hours for the regular meetings are kind of random."

Levi frowned at his notes. What the fuck? Fucking weirdo...

Hange sighed, "yeah, you're right." Then shot him a bright grin, "But! I swear I'm about to get a big grant to really kick it all up a notch! We're really getting somewhere, and we can maybe take on a few more assistants next semester to help with all the data entry that's going to need to happen!" She was basically bouncing.

She paused and looked around the room quickly before returning her fiery gaze back to Jean, who was looking a little frazzled.

"And get this, Jean Boy, I've been working on something with Moblit. I can't get into it right now, but it could be really big if it all goes according to plan. Like really big!" She was bouncing again. Her hand gestures were getting more exaggerated and much too close to Levi's personal space. He decided to just lean away and scowl instead of getting dragged into another conversation.

Jean narrowed his eyes, "Wait, like big for you and research nerds or big as in normal people big."

Hange grabbed his hands, "like brand new wing big. Like the Rat Pack Club goes on vacation big."

Levi was still looking at his notes. He had to admit he was starting to be a little more curious than he was annoyed. She was trying to whisper but wasn't doing a very good job at it. God, it was like she didn't know how to be quiet.

"Wait, so this is something you're working on with Dr. Berner? I thought you were still heartbroken from him switching labs," Jean asked while trying to take his hands back. "Is he back?"

Hange shook her head, and her smile dimmed a little, "no, my ride or die still over at the Medical Imaging Lab in the comp sci building." She perked up and continued on, "But! It may have worked out for us in the end!"

Jean looked a little less tired now, "huh... well, when can you tell us about it? Who knows about it?"

Hange let out a low chuckle, "uh, well, don't tell anyone. It started as just a little side project for Moblit, Nanaba, Nifa, and me. We didn't expect it to really go anywhere. So keep it to yourself, for now, I'll let y'all know when I can."

Jean nodded. He looked determined and, suddenly, a lot younger than he had a minute ago. He gave a mock salute, "you got it, Doc!"

Hange mirrored his salute and gave him a wink. "Awesome, ok! Oh, also, did you have any questions about tomorrow's lecture?"

Jean shrugged and shook his head, "nah, I looked it over, and it's pretty chill. Cog Psyc was a fun course."

Levi glanced up and looked at the top right corner of his notes. Intro to Cognitive Psychology.

"And that's exactly the vibe we want this semester! Fun!" Hange exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

"Yeah… ok, fun. I can do that," Jean mumbled. "I'll tell Armin," he said as he turned to go. The kid waved lazily over his shoulder, "See ya tomorrow, Hange!"

"Get home safe, Jean! Tell Sasha and Connie I say hello," Hange waved to the back of the kid's head before leaning back and slouching down.

"Rat Pack Club goes on vacation. Ha! Take that monkey brain," Hange muttered with a smile. She closed her eyes like she getting ready to take a long nap in the middle of the atrium, which was getting less busy as time went by.

"Oh!" She exclaimed and shot up and turned to face Levi with a much-too-bright smile, "I forgot to introduce myself!"

She stuck out a hand that was covered in ink smudged. Levi felt the corner of his lips fall and held back a snarky comment; he really was trying to be less pissy, as Isabel put it. He sighed and reached out to shake her hand. He had hand sanitizer in his pocket.

"I'm Zoe Hange, but please call me Hange! Nice to meet you, and thanks for saving my books!"

Levi nodded, "Levi." He went to take his hand back, but the weirdo was still shaking it.

"You're taking Psyc 221 tomorrow, right? That's awesome. I hope you're ready for a heckin' good semester, Levi!" Hange was still shaking his hand.

"Yeah. Yeah, it sounds great," Levi mumbled as he jerked his hand away from her grip.

"Is this your first semester here? Transfer student? Do you live on campus? What courses are you taking?" Hange kept going as though he looked happy to be there instead of inching away and gathering his papers to leave.

"Second semester here, transferred from Wallrose College," Levi muttered. He didn't want to admit it, but Hange's enthusiasm was putting him on edge. What the fuck was she on?

Hange nodded enthusiastically, "That's great! Welcome, and if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask! I'll be your lecturer for PSYC 221. My lab's down in the Neuro wing, so feel free to stop by if you have any questions!" She pointed down the hall that had a staircase at the end of it. "I always really enjoy having some older students," she continued, "at least someone to make eye contact with when the kids make a reference I don't know." Hange smiled at him before rummaging through her pocket and proceeding to hand him a business card. He didn't want to take it, but he also didn't want to piss off his professor. Fuck it, whatever.

"I know what you mean. My younger sister is always trying to get me to do these stupid fucking dances for TikTok or whatever the fuck," Levi grumbled out as he looked over the card. His eyes flicked upwards to meet hers.

"[email protected]?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. He didn't let it leak into his voice, but, shit… She had to be a few years younger than he was, and she was a professor and director of a research lab. He didn't want to say he was impressed, but he was. But she was also a fucking weirdo.

Hange nodded and smiled widely. She reached back into her pocket, grabbed the card back from Levi, and scrawled something down with the newly retrieved pen. The pen was labelled, pocket pen.

"Yeah! It's the email address for the club I started with some students. My research lab has been doing some behavioural studies with rats, and it's hard not to fall for their little paws and their little eyes. So, every now and then, we get together and hang out and chill with some rats. This Friday, we are having our kick-off party. You should stop by!"

Hange handed him the card back. It had a time, a date, and an address.

"This is more of a social gathering at a bar near campus, not really a regular meeting. It's mostly just a bunch of research assistants and a few of us old folk having some drinks," Hange shrugged, still smiling. She wasn't done, "the usual meetings are chilling with the rats and throwing around ideas. Sometimes the students pitch us some experiments, and then we give them feedback."

Levi didn't think he would go. To the meetings or the party tomorrow. Hell, he knew for sure he wasn't going to go. Still, he nodded and muttered out a half-assed, "sure."

"Plus! The kids don't stay too long at the parties. They eventually head out after a few drinks to the next destination to get trashed where their profs can't see them. So it's only rowdy for a little while. It's been a while since I made it to the second location. I'm not that old, but I'm not that young anymore." She laughed lightly, and Levi was caught off guard by how pretty the sound was.

"I can't Fridays," Levi said as he pocketed the card, "I work Friday afternoons."

Hange nodded, "It's 8:30 to late-thirty, so stop on by if you want! Or if you know someone who'd-"

She was cut off by someone dropping their bag onto Levi's lap.

"What the fuck?" He started, looking up with a scowl. Of fucking course it was Isabel. He looked at his phone and saw 5 missed calls.

"Dude, what's the point of having a phone if you never answer it," Isabel said with a little more sass than Levi was used to. His brow furrowed. He'd ask about that later.

"Don't be a shit," he said gruffly, but still more gently than his usual tone. She made him worry like that. "My phone was on silent."

"Hi! You must be Levi's sister! He mentioned he had a younger sister." Hange stood up and grabbed Isabel's hand with a smile, "I'm Hange. I'll be your brother's professor starting tomorrow. Should I be keeping an eye on him? I feel like he's going to give me a hard time." Hange gave Isabel a wink and a smirk, which the younger girl returned. She looked a little less tense than she had a minute ago.

"Pfft, Nah. He's pretty bland." Isabel replied and shook Hange's hand with significantly more enthusiasm than Levi had. "I'm Isabel. Thanks for engaging with Mr. Grumpy here. He usually just sits there like a weirdo."

Levi stood up and thrust Isabel's bag back into her arms, "Ok, time to go." He turned on his heel and started walking away at a brisk pace.

Hange shouted out, "bye, Levi! See ya tomorrow!"

Levi waved over his shoulder but stopped when he didn't hear Isabel following behind him.

Isabel was still standing next to Hange, who was staring at her pile of books. He groaned and made his way back to the couch as Hange leaned down and tried to pick up the stack.

He placed a hand on Isabel's shoulder and attempted to steer her away.

"Isabel let's go," Levi said.

The young lady shook her head, "Nah. I'm catching a ride with some friends. We're gonna go get some food before heading home! So don't worry about me!" Isabel gave him a look and gestured towards Hange, still mapping out a game plan. Levi pretended not to notice her look and shot her a glare of his own.

"Isabel. Dammit, why did you tell me that before I stayed till the end of your classes?"

Hange let out a chortle and glanced up at them, "Ha! Classic. Have fun, kid!"

"Well, since you don't need to worry about me," Isabel said sweetly, "you're free right now. Hange, let Levi help you with this!" She shoulder-checked Levi and stuck out her tongue at him with a grin.

"I'm sure she's fine," Levi said.

"Oh, man! I would so appreciate it!" Hange all but yelled, standing up suddenly. Her head smashed right into Levi's chin, making them both groan and bring their hands up to their respective injuries.

"Dammit, four-eyes. Be fucking careful," Levi growled. He shot Isabel a look, but it didn't stop her giggling. He was losing his edge.

"Ok, bye! I have my phone, and it won't be on silent!" She waved and hurried off in the direction of the exit. There was a group of girls who waved, laughing, before walking off together. Levi let out an exasperated sigh, but he was happy to see she was making friends. She deserved it.

Groaning, he looked back down. Hange… was just sitting on the floor, next to her pile of books. No, she wasn't just sitting there. She was reading a book.

"Yo, four-eyes. You want help or not."

"Hmm?" She looked up as though unsure of who was talking to her. She blinked her big, brown eyes and then smiled. Her lips formed a little oh, and though she only just remembered where she was. "Oh, yes! Sorry, I got side-tracked there for a minute. How's your chin! I'm really sorry about that!"

She stood and reached out to touch Levi's face.

He took a step back, "You were just touching the floor. I don't want you touching my face!" He felt his cheeks warm up a bit and shifted his gaze. He picked up most of the stupid, fucking books.

She chuckled and reached down to pick up the rest. She looked at him with a grin and replied, "that's a fair point, Shorty."

"Shorty?" Levi all but dropped the books. "Whatever, Four-eyes," he said and stormed away.

He heard some undignified sputtering as she tried to think of a comeback. He smirked. Good, she should feel bad.

"You just called me Four-eyes? What, I can't call you Shorty?"

"Not when I'm doing you a favour," he shot back. " And after you try to break my face!"

"No! Come back, Shor- Levi! I mean... I mean, come help me, Levi," she sounded whiney. He wasn't sure if he liked that sound.

He turned around and saw her trying to pick up the stack again. He let out a sigh and dragged his feet back to the fucking weirdo, again.

"Oh my fucking god… Why do you even have this many books with you?" He said gruffly as he took an armful of the offending items.

"Research!" Hange exclaimed as though it was obvious. She started to walking away at a surprisingly fast pace.

"What the fuck, slow down, weirdo," Levi said. In-fucking-credible.

"Well, come on then!" Hange said, glancing over her shoulder. "My office isn't too far away."

It sure felt like it was, though.

After winding their way through the halls and then down several sets of stairs, Hange finally unlocked a door and turned on the lights of her office. It was absolutely filled with books, with stacks of papers covering every surface. She shuffled into the room, stepping over a few plastic boxes, and placed her cargo on her chair. It was the only surface that had any space. Hange motioned for Levi to hand her his share, which she placed on the ground, next to the chair.

"Fuck, Hange. How the hell do you ever find anything?" Levi said, unable to hide the growing frustration from his tone. He didn't like clutter, and he really didn't like this room. "This is a fucking mess."

"Oh, it's not that bad! I can find what I need eventually!" She waved her hand and flicked off the lights. Hange picked up two plastic boxes, letting out a small grunt as she did so.

"Alright! Let's head out. Close the door, would you?" She nodded to the open door.

"What's in the boxes?" Levi asked, shutting the door. He had no idea why he was still here. Why was he still here, talking to this lunatic. God, he shuttered thinking of the stacks of paper in that little office.

"Oh, just old notebooks that I need to shred, some speakers I need to donate, and then a lot of rat food to bring to the shelter."

He had forgotten about the rats.

He looked over at the tall, lanky woman. She was obviously struggling. Shit.

"Give me those," he muttered as he took the boxes from her.

She let out an audible sigh as she shook out her arms, "oof, thanks a bunch! Ok, it's over this way!"

Levi glanced her way, "what is?"

"My apartment!"

He felt weird about this. He didn't know this person. Well, he did, or he would know her. Tomorrow, anyways. It still felt weird. He wasn't sure he really knew why. He nodded silently and followed her.

He paused when he looked down.

"Are you wearing fucking crocs?"

#levihan #college!au #levi is a loving older brother #and Hange is a delight #I’d carry her books #a mess but I hope u like this mess #aot #attack on titan fanfic #fanfic #levihan fic #myposts

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tipsylorie · 3 years

Text

Dream Project Pt. 2 {title in progress}

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: Hello guys! Here is the second part of the story I have been working on. My friend @w-h-i-t-e-mochi had read this already and she commented that it might feel a bit dragging. So, Im sorry about that but I just tried to emphasise on how Jayceon Stone acts as her assistant. This is not yet proof read tho so, sorry again. But I came to realisation on how Lee Da Hee would make a great Liviana and to be paired with Lee Jun Ho as Jayceon. Therefore, if you want, they can be your character reference.

Word Count: 2,300

Before Liviana got to her office, she was greeted by her employees with good mornings, and she greeted them all back with a smile and nod of acknowledgement. Once she arrived at her office, she was welcomed with the young man once again with a smile on his face. “Good morning Liv, I hope you had a goodnight sleep and your first schedule for today is supposedly with the Finance Department of the entertainment, but it seems like you should prioritise the meeting with your potential investor, Mr. Stone.”

Liv can’t help but chuckle with how blunt his assistant was as he immediately stated her schedule for today, so she just replies with, “Woah, what’s the rush Jer? Slowly. I agree on meeting with the investor first so maybe update them that after 45 minutes we are good to see each other at the Casa Royale Hotel. I just need to look through the contract again and see area for negotiation.”

Jayceon is a bit flustered with Liviana’s remark of him seems to be in a rush because this is the first time of him doing such job and he just copied what Dexter usually do as his assistant. So, his response went, “Sorry about that Liv. I just tried to be productive by not stalling any tasks that could’ve already been done. The contract is already sent to your email so just check that and I will call his assistant now. So please excuse me.” After saying the last line, Jayceon exited the office and sat on his desk just outside of it.

~30 minutes later~

“Would you like to come with me Jer?” Liv asked the young man as she exited her office.

“Sure, no problem. I already notified the Financial Department of the meeting being moved an hour later.” Jayceon replied with ease.

“Good job!” She said and high fived him. “Now let’s go.” She continued as she led the way to the parking lot where her driver and car awaits.

~At the Casa Royale Hotel~

“Over here Ms. Voss!” Dexter exclaimed as he waves Liv and Jayce to go to his direction. “Thank you for arranging this meeting Ms. Voss and please do have a seat.” Dexter said as he gestured to the seats vacant for the two and they sat as Dexter continues, “Unfortunately Mr. Stone won’t be able to be here as he is in a 1 week leave due to the transitioning of company rights. I hope that is okay as I am given the Power of Attorney as his proxy for today. He had trusted me that whatever agreements we will be having for today is as good to be his as well. So, no need to be concerned.” He said the last line with a reassuring voice.

Liviana was taken back a little bit as she was expecting to meet the CEO himself, so she answers, “Oh, alright then. I can say by re-reading the contract before coming here is that it was really detailed and somehow stringent.” Liv’s remarks made the vibe feel tense as Jayceon starts to worry and his secretary noticed the faint change of his facial expression. Fortunately, the young woman who has no idea on what caused the sudden change of vibe smiles and continues to say, “But there is need to worry because I like it that way. It will help us keep things black and white and lessen misunderstandings so, I say we seal the deal right away!” She said the last line with enthusiasm and grabs a pen to sign the document. This made the young CEO relax his tense shoulders and gives a smile of recognition to his assistant that he is satisfied with how the meeting turned out.

The partnership was sealed with the final handshake between Liviana and Dexter. Then all of them bid their goodbyes with a last reminder from the older man that after a week, they will meet again to announce publicly about the merger. Liviana and Jayceon conclusively thanked Dexter and took their leave.

Once they arrived back the LV Entertainment building, Jayceon reminded Liviana of her meeting that will take place in 15 minutes.

“Thanks Jer, I will just grab the needed materials in my office. Oh, you can seat this one out because I don’t think I will need an assistant there. So, you can just grab an early lunch or Brunch if you still haven’t eaten your breakfast.” Liviana informed her assistant.

“But I can totally accompany you since it is my job, and maybe… I can give some inputs if you want.” Jayceon tried to reason because she can feel how Liv is being lenient towards him.

She can sense what her assistant is trying to do, and this made her smile, so she replies, “Do not worry Jer, I am not taking it easy towards you but I really don’t find the need to have you there. I can just message you when I need something or when there is something worth noting. But for now, you can just grab your lunch. Okay?”

Jayceon was satisfied with her reply, so he responded, “Sure Liv. Thanks. I will also just arrange the meetings for later to keep everything smooth sailing.”

This made Liviana say, “That would be amazing. Thank you.” She took her leave to proceed to the conference room.

**Jayceon’s Phone**

Message from Liviana: Check Break Even Analysis

Reply sent: Should I check it Liv, right now?

Liviana forgot to put her phone on mute so everyone in the room heard the chime of notification. This made her say, “Sorry guys, please continue.” Then she sent her assistant another message.

**Jayceon’s Phone**

Message from Liviana: No, I will just spam you of the things I need to do. So there’s no need for you to reply.

Reply sent: Oh, okay. Sorry.

Message from Liviana: I said, do not replyyy 😭

Message from Liviana: TLA each branch financial report last month in conjunction of the Entertainment

Message from Liviana: Bake some Choco Moist Cake for Julie

~After many messages later~

“Thank you so much everyone. We need to find solutions soon to add more income without jeopardising the operating expenses. So, I will be all open with suggestions in my email. Okay guys?” Liv informed her staff and all of them agreed then she ended the meeting.

~Back to her office~

“Why is there food on my table? I didn’t order anything.” Liv thought to herself when her secretary enters her office.

“I bought you some lunch in case you’re hungry. I am not sure what to but so I just bought sandwich and Iced Americano to play it safe. I hope it is fine.” Jayceon told her boss.

“It’s actually great! I totally forgot that I haven’t eaten my lunch yet. Thanks. This is actually my go-to food when I am having hard time to think what to eat. So really, thank you Jer.” Liviana told her secretary with genuinely.

Jayceon replies enthusiastically, “No problem, boss. Just doing my job!” He is about to leave then he suddenly remembers something, “May I ask something Liv?”

“Sure.” Live replied as she took a bite of her sandwich.

“With everything you sent me earlier, from the meeting’s notes to your friend’s cake, why did you still forget your own food?” Jayceon asked curiously.

“Yes, I think so. Are you planning on checking up the Academy’s different branches afterwards?” Jayceon asked his boss to confirm and inform that the schedule in the iPad seems incomplete.

It took a while for Liviana to think of an answer so she manages to say is, “Well, all I could think of once I get home is food, maybe that’s why.” She smiled to her assistant with face shows confusion with the lack of answer she replied so she just says, “It’s easier that way. Anyways, what’s next to our schedule?”

While Liviana is taking a sip of her Iced Americano, Jayceon enumerated the meetings that are lined up and this is followed by a question from Liv, “After all these meetings for today, does that end all of the Entertainment’s agendas for the week?”

“Yeah, why? Is there something wrong?” Liviana asked worriedly.

“It’s just that your ex-assistant seemed to forget to update the calendar since what I have now is relatively blank.” Jayceon stated as he looked through the tablet’s screen.

This made Liv ponder for a few minutes and came to a realisation, so she replies, “I believe it was purposely left that way since that is what I instructed her before she left. Hence, we can just leave it like that and have some sort of business trip tomorrow. I will message you the information once I got home because we need to go to the meeting now.”

Jayceon was relieved to know that there was no missing schedule, so he answered, “Sure, I’ll be right behind you Liv.”

After Liviana and Jayceon finished attending all the meetings for the day, she asked him to her office even though it was already passed his clock.

The young man took a seat adjacent to Liviana’s table and she remarks, “Hey, I think I will need your opinion about making the partnership with Stone Corp. public sooner instead of a week. Because I made some thinking the whole day and concluded that it would create traction for the Entertainment. I am not sure if you’ve already seen our latest financial reports that we are close to be in red – and barely breaking even.” Her face is contoured in full worries and anxiousness, she continues, “So I just want to know your opinion if I were to propose this to Mr. Stone, would it be alright or not?” She asked and nervously waiting for Jayceon’s reply.

“Honestly Liv, I don’t think you should rush this. Because one week is not a long time. The best advice I could give you is focus on the events that will happen, both in TLA and the Entertainment. Do not worry too much.” This response from Mr. Stone might come out quite manipulative but as Liv asked him with sincerity, this is the best answer he has based on his judgement with the overall situation.

The young woman took some time to weigh what her secretary just told her, and her reply goes, “Yes. Yeah, I think you’re right. I agree. Maybe let’s conclude for the day and meet tomorrow at the usual time here in the building to gather last minute things.” She informed her assistant, and both bid their goodbyes.

~At Liviana’s House~

“Let’s make the cake first and then eat dinner afterwards before checking all the reports for tomorrow’s trip.” Liv said as she tries to reason with herself.

Her closest friend Julie is having her 27th birthday tomorrow and she is currently supervising the branch of TLA where the Scholarship Audition Programme is going to be held, which is the Municipality of Paradigmia. It is like the second main branch after the one in the City of Pneumarê. The main branch is the only one located in a city, however due to the development of the Tree of Life Academy the municipalities and provinces where other branches are located, it is becoming a progressive community which at a very near future can make them a city. If you are wondering on why the Final Audition is not going to take place in the city, well… It is because of how it was agreed upon on where annual inter-branch events will take place – and it is through spinning wheel where the names of the branches are written in random order. Therefore, she must make sure to visit Paradigmia at all costs tomorrow.

Going back to Liv’s closest friend, Julie Andews is also her longest friend who also supported her while she was busy integrating an Entertainment company to her family’s Academy. Ever since it was Anne who was more focused on handling the academics aspects, so it took quite a while for Julie to find a place where she truly suitable. Heck, she even attempted to do the financial aspect, but it took a toll on her. Then, one time strolling through the city’s academy branch, she saw the need to develop the extra-curricular activities not just for students who do it for grades but also those who wants to experience it. Especially when she realised that it would be vital for the integration of a Korean Entertainment Company. So, she drew up a proposal on how she plans to execute such developments and it was immediately approved by Liv. Liviana also doubled check it with her parents if such change would be okay and even though it took a week for them to agree, Julie was able to perform her plan without a hitch.

Okay, going back to the cake. After she baked the 3 layers of the heart-shaped cake for Julie she realised that she mixed a hell a lot of batter. So, she just took some of her leftover cupcake cups and make the rest of the red velvet mix into cupcakes. To Liv’s surprise she was still able to great 2 dozen of cupcakes, so she plans to give half of it to Anne as she also promised her a visit yesterday. Liviana successfully iced and decorated the cake and all the cupcakes after several hours, so she proceeds on putting it on her refrigerator to finally have her dinner.

Liviana freshen up before heading to her bed since it was a tedious work and cleaning earlier in the kitchen that made her sweat a lot. Before having her eyes closed, she remembers the reports she must re-evaluate this made her say, “For fuck’s sake.” After another 2 hours she finally got her sleep.

[End of Part 2]

#liv #jayce #oneshot #kpop #ceo au #ceo #au #imagine #scenario #lee junho #2pm #2pm junho #lee dahee #kdrama #original #imagines #fluff

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wylanvnneck · 3 years

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This 2 part fic was written for the Secret Snusband Gift Giveaway hosted by @jurdannet and @jurdannetrevels for my lovely Knife Wife @lilacs-with-lavender.

Rating: T for Tyrannosaurus

Summary: Inspired by an episode of my favourite Cop TV show, ‘Castle’, in which a bet takes place with pretty high stakes, although the plotline has been tweaked to fit this fandom. My Knife Wife said she loved the Enemies to Lovers trope so that’s what I’ve (tried to) write here and I hope you enjoy the story of Homicide Detectives Jude Duarte and Cardan Greenbriar and their mutual enmity.

Warnings: Not so graphic descriptions of murder and mention of drugs. (Really not sure what I need to tag, so please let me know if I’ve missed something.)

Posted as a Gift on AO3 | Part 2 | Masterlist

Part 1

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“Victim’s name is Taryn Santorini, a metal sculptor by trade, she was found by her doorman fifteen minutes before we traced the address in Chloe’s hand back to her.”

Detective Jude Duarte looks down at the motionless face of a scared looking brunette, a crimson splatter painting the tiled floor around her lifeless body. The room around her is a mess, clothes scattered everywhere, bed ruffled and unmade and metal figurines placed haphazardly throughout the little apartment.

“Lil, talk to me, what are we looking at?”

Before the white-blonde haired medical examiner crouched on the floor by the body can answer, a smooth dark voice that Jude so detests cuts through the air behind her.

“Why, Duarte, I’d say that the fact that Tara What’s-her-name was shot and killed is rather obvious.” The despicable excuse of a detective steps forward, a smug grin pasted to his face. Cardan Greenbriar, entitled little rich boy, over-confident bastard and sadly, her partner.

Patience, Jude reminds herself, patience was a virtue.

“I meant, as I’m sure Lil knows, with what model was she killed and when?”

Liliver shoots her an amused sympathetic look before turning her gaze back to the victim.

“Looks to be a gun with a 45 caliber, same as the one used to kill Chloe Tatterfell. I’d say Taryn here has been dead for about 12 hours so pretty close to Chloe’s time of death, maybe just a half hour or so afterwards.”

“So chances are it’s the same killer.” Cardan interjects, the smug smile a little less vibrant now.

“Yep. I’ll have to get her back to the morgue so I can do a full inspection, see if I can find anything helpful.”

Jude steps back from the crime scene to give her some space, almost bumping in to the officer taking pictures of the area for later use.

“Thanks, Lil.”

“Just doing my job, sweetie.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Jude clips a glossy picture of their latest victim onto the precinct’s murder board. “Garrett and Van questioned practically all known associates of both Chloe and Taryn and none of them could recognise the other victim. There’s no obvious connection between the two and yet, for some reason they were both killed on the same day, by the same person.”

“And with the same gun.” Cardan is leaning back in his chair, his posture insouciant and his curly black hair falling lazily over his forehead. Surely that was a violation of precinct dress codes? Not that he’d care either way, rule breaker that he was. God knew it was only because of his daddy’s clout that he’d even graduated from the academy in the first place, whilst people like Jude had to work hard and save every penny and fight to get anywhere in the field of Law Enforcement.

“Ok, I’m going to head to the morgue whilst Van and Gare check through the victim’s phones and financials, see if Lil has anything for us.”

“I suppose, being the dutiful partner that I am, I should come with you?” Cardan’s drawl is as irritating as usual and Jude can hardly wait to get out of the proximity of his stupid raven locks and smoldering eyes.

“Please, you’d be doing us both a favour if you didn’t.”

“Aw, come now Jude you know you’d miss me.” He lets out a dramatic sigh as he half heartedly stands from his chair to join her as she speeds by towards the exit and she just barely resists the urge to throttle him.

Lil bustles around her examining room as she adjusts the fluorescent lamps shining down on both the victim’s bodies’.

“So, apart from the type of bullets that killed them, the only similarity that I could find between the two victims is the fact that they both have tattoos.”

Jude raises a brow. “Everyone has tattoos.”

From across the autopsy table Cardan’s eyes gleam as he smirks.

“Oh really? You got some ink on you, Duarte?”

His tone is disbelieving and Jude can’t resist messing with him a little.

She pastes an obviously fake flirtatious smile on her face and drawls in a sugar sweet voice, “Guess you’d have to find that out on your own, Greenbriar.”

She bites at her lip for good measure and thinks once more of how bad she would be at flirting in earnest. Lil certainly couldn’t keep the laughter out of her gray eyes. Cardan, however, has a strange look on his face, one that Jude can’t quite decipher, but she’s pretty sure she’s just one-upped him and she can’t deny the slight sense of triumph that the thought gives her.

She turns her attention back to the victims. “You were saying, Lil?”

“I’m saying that these tattoos seem to have been done by the same artist. Look,” she pulls back the white cloth covering the body of Chloe Tatterfell, gently pushing a strand of brown hair off of her shoulder to reveal the cartoonish character of a rose, inked in with dark black ink.

She then turns to Taryn’s body to reveal a similarly styled tattoo of a mermaid on her wrist. Just as she’s pulling back the cover Jude’s back pocket vibrates and the sound of her plain ringtone travels through the air. Quickly she swipes upwards to answer the call and it’s Garrett.

“Yo, so we looked through the victims’ phone records and found a connection. Both Chloe and Taryn made a phone call on the day that they were killed to the same number, belonging to a Locke McCutchins, he’s got priors including robberies and domestic assault.”

By the time he’s finished speaking she’s already waved a quick goodbye to Lil and turned to walk out the door, not bothering to check if her partner was behind her.

“Alright, text me his address, let’s go pick him up.”

“Locke McCutchins, open up, it’s the NYPD!” Garrett bangs on the door and the force is so strong that the wood vibrates as Jude clutches her pistol in her hand, body flat against the wall of Locke’s apartment with Cardan right beside her.

There’s no answer and the door is broken down as she, Cardan, Garrett and Van file into the room in a practiced motion that’s as familiar to her as breathing.

Right in front of them, sprawled across his couch, lies the dead body of Locke McCutchin, his tawny eyes still open and gazing unseeingly up at his ceiling, a dried red patch visible on his shirt.

Garret drops to the floor beside the couch, his sandy hair falling over his face as he leans over to check Locke’s pulse whilst the rest of them look on after having taken note that the apartment was clear.

“Body’s cold, he’s been dead for hours, entry wound looks to be about the same size as the other victims.”

Jude scrunches her eyebrows as she stands in front of the murderboard for the second time that day.

“So, Chloe Tatterfell, Taryn Santorini and Locke McCuchins were all killed within the span of 24 hours, all with the same gun, presumably by the same killer and yet so far the only connections we’ve found are Taryn’s address that was found written on Chloe’s hand, the phone call from both women to Locke and the similar tattoos on both Chloe and Taryn, but not on Locke.”

“Hmm.” Cardan seems to materialise out of nowhere, carrying a paper cup of what smells like freshly brewed coffee. Jude was convinced that he took his coffee with added alcohol but she had yet to prove it.

“What’s with the glare?” he asks.

“It automatically deploys itself when you're around.”

He scoffs. Twirls his coffee around. Takes a long, slurping sip.

“Hey, Duarte? Don’t get me wrong, I mean, the feeling is mutual, but what exactly is it that makes you despise me so much? I’d like to know so I can make sure to keep doing it.”

Jude barely deliberates over her answer before she responds.

“Being an overly cocky, obnoxious jerk who has only managed to get this far thanks to his Daddy’s fat purse will definitely be the best way to make me hate you, trust me.”

He grins but there’s no humour in the curve of his sensual lips, his eyes are cold metal.

“You think that the only reason I’m a detective is because of my father?”

“Yup.” She makes sure to add plenty of emphasis to that one word.

Cardan opens his mouth as if to speak, stops, presses his lips together so hard that they turn pale before the colour returns to them when a slow smile spreads across his face, this time full of humour, but the decidedly darker kind.

“Let’s make a bet. If you can figure out what the connection between our three victims is before I do, I’ll go right up to Captain Madoc myself and request a change of partners so you can be rid of my ‘overly cocky, obnoxious’ self. Deal?”

He was extending a challenge and Jude was never one to back down from those. Besides, the chance to be rid of him with no cost to herself or her reputation was too good to pass up on. Still, there had to be a catch, with Cardan, there was always a catch.

“And on the complete off-chance that you figure it out first? What happens then?”

“If I figure it out first...you have to come with me as my date to this party that my dad’s having in a couple days.”

Those last few words come out in a rush and Jude has to take a moment to decipher their meaning. Followed by another moment to wonder if she’d somehow completely misunderstood what he’d said.

“You want me to what?”

“Be my date to a party. Honestly Duarte, do you have any idea how many women would jump at this opportunity?” His tone is disgustingly nonchalant.

“I-” she struggles to find the words. “Take one of them then! Don’t you have a girlfriend, Nicasia or something like that? Blue hair and eyes? High pitched voice? Talks a lot about how much she gets seasick?”

“You know, for someone who’s only met Nicasia once you do remember quite a bit about her.” His steady gaze on her is intense.

For some incorrigible reason Jude has to resist the urge to flush.

“I’m a detective. It’s my job to study people.”

“Right. Sadly, Nicasia and I are no longer together, if we ever were. I got bored. Hence, why I need a date.”

“I’m sure you could just take one of your scores of female admirers, you don’t need me.”

“Is that jealousy that I detect in your voice?”

“Cardan.”

“Look, the point is, I can’t be bothered having to deal with yet another simpering female who thinks that one night on my arm means a promise to a life-long relationship complete with marriage, a fancy mansion and exactly 2.5 kids. All I want is a companion for one night so I don’t get hounded by my mother for not having a girlfriend by which she can procure some grandchildren.”

“Oh so now you want me to be your fake girlfriend?”

He rolls his eyes up at the ceiling and she fights the urge to slap him.

“It’s just for one night! Besides, I thought me winning was barely even a possibility to you.”

She makes a noise at the back of her throat. “It is.”

“Then I don’t see what the problem is. Do we have a deal, or not?” He holds out his hand, sculpted eyebrows raised in confrontation.

She doesn’t really think he has much of a chance of figuring it out before her, but he had admittedly also proven adept at figuring certain things out in previous cases so there was definitely no certainty that he wouldn’t win, for all her bravado. Yet, her competitive nature couldn’t bear the thought of surrendering, so she pushes her unease aside and grips his hand in a firm shake.

“Deal.”

There’s an awkward moment when he takes a little too long to release her hand from his grip. Once he finally does, the rather pointy tips of his ears reddening, they both turn back to the murder board and the view of their murder time line and crime scene pictures, furiously trying to connect the dots in their heads.

A random thought intrudes in her brain.

"Wait, what if Garrett and Van figure it out before we do?”

As one, she and Cardan both turn towards the opposite side of the office where the two officers in question sat in front of their computers.

Van was typing in data on his computer, eyes glazing over and the tuft of black hair atop his head trembling whilst Garrett, or, The Ghost - as he was sometimes called thanks to his tendency to take months before answering non-work related messages - stood eating glazed donuts with one hand and speaking to someone on the phone held in the other. Jude loved the both of them but she had to admit that they didn’t exactly paint the most inspiring picture.

Once again she and Cardan are in sync when they promptly turn back towards the murderboard and proclaim, “Nah.”

Van’s excitement is clearly written on his face when he walks straight up to Jude’s desk the moment she arrives at the precinct the next morning, slamming down a manila folder with the NYPD crest printed on it onto her neatly arranged table top.

Immediately she reaches out to open it, desperate for a break in the case that would not only put a three time killer behind bars but also ensure that she herelf wouldn’t commit murder if she lost the bet and had to pretend to be Cardan’s girlfriend for a night. The thought makes her want to shudder.

“So, I was looking into all of our victim’s financials and I noticed an anomaly. Two weeks ago on the 7th they each deposited 95 hundred dollars into their savings accounts, but we’ve got no way of tracing the money back because the amount is under the IRS’s investigative limit” Van takes a quick pause before continuing, “but that’s not all, both Taryn and Chloe have credit card charges for small amounts at a tattoo place called Fair Folk Inks down in Queens.”

“Great, that’d be the place where they both got tattoos, I’ll go down there and ask the owner a couple questions, thanks Van.” She puts the sheaf of financial accounts back into the folder and takes a quick swig of her usual morning coffee, black, no sugar before preparing to head out once more.

“Going somewhere, partner?”

She’d bumped straight into Cardan when stepping into the elevator and she lets out a small groan of frustration as she steps back from his sturdy form. He looks annoyingly chipper, usual cocky smile in place and laughter in his tone as he looks down at her slightly shorter self. His cologne is strong and emanates the scent of the woods and sunlight in the small elevator. The woods and sunlight? Clearly foregoing the rest of her morning coffee hadn’t been a good idea.

She’d thought she could make it out of the building before he finally arrived, necessitating in having to take him along as well, but clearly fate had other ideas.

“Tattoo parlour. Queens,” she grits out.

“Let’s go then,” his tone is sickly sweet.

“Hi there, you guys lookin’ to get inked?” asks the pink haired girl behind the counter in fishnet tights and a tank top, looking up from where she is perched on a stool behind the counter when she hears them enter.

The parlour itself is shiny and white, the smooth metal counter and two spaced out black leather tattoo chairs complete with wheeled stools are the only pieces of furniture in the small space. Mounted on the walls are designs, each of them evoking a sense of fantasy. A pixie there, a selkie here, an ornate dragon, all staring right back at Jude as she takes in their surroundings. She takes note of the fact that the pictures staring back at her were very reminiscent of Chloe and Taryn’s tattoos, solidifying her suspicion that this was where they had got them done.

Before she has time to explain the reason for their visit, Cardan pipes up.

“You know, I’ve been thinking of getting one of a slithering snake, maybe across my back? I believe it would add to my already abundant sex appea-”

“Actually,” Jude cuts him off with her most scathing glare, to which he irritatingly responds with a grin. “We’re here on official business, NYPD, we need to speak with the owner of this establishment.” She holds up the badge that she’s just extracted from her plain black wallet as she speaks.

“That would be Vivi, hang tight a sec I’ll go get her.” With a sway of her hips Heather trounces off behind a curtained section at the back of the parlour.

Unable to stand still for even a few moments, her partner has already wandered over to the corner of the room, pointing at a pinned up design, ““That goblin over there reminds me of Van.”

She ignores him.

“Oh come on Duarte, you have to admit, there’s a definite resemblance.”

She spares the quickest of glances at the design and it’s true, there’s a striking similarity, but she isn’t about to give him the satisfaction of agreeing so she simply makes a non-committal grunt of recognition.

“Tell me, are you always this tightly wound or is it just for the majority of your day?”

“Excuse me?” Her eyebrows have inadvertently traveled upwards on her face and she can’t believe he has the audacity to say what he just did, although really, she shouldn’t be so surprised.

“Come on Duarte, we’ve been partners for quite a while now and I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you laugh.” He’s standing a few feet away from her, his expression serious, not backing down.

“It’s called being professional.” She can feel the muscles working in her face as she hisses out the words through gritted teeth, blood pounding furiously.

“Ahem.” She whirls around to find a tall bronze haired woman with striking cat-like eyes that were currently meeting her gaze wearing a lazy look of amusement.

“Heather said there were some policemen who wanted to ask me some questions?”

Jude cannot believe that she had just gotten so sidetracked by her insolent partner that she’d forgotten why she was currently standing in the middle of a Tattoo parlour in Queens, clutching a set of regular sized close ups of three now dead people. She tamps down the irritation at her own actions as she thrusts out the photos in front of the woman facing her, Vivi, the pink haired girl had said.

“Yes, ma’am, do you recognize these people?”

She watches intently as Vivi carefully peruses the pictures before answering, “I know the two girls, Taryn and Chloe, we’re friends, I’ve even tattooed the both of them. I’m not really sure who he is.”

“Are you sure you don’t know him? Look carefully.” Cardan is all business now, stepping up to Vivi.

“I’m sure.” Vivi’s tone is almost defiant, daring him to question her again.

“You said that you were friends with the girls, how close were you?”

“They came into the tattoo parlour at the same time about a month ago and we started up a conversation, we exchanged numbers and would meet up for a drink from time to time.”

“Did they ever meet up with just each other?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Can you think of any reason as to why they’d both be killed by the same person?”

“They’re...they’re dead?”

Jude had intentionally asked the question in a way that would require a reaction and she wasn’t sure that she was entirely convinced by the shocked undertone of Vivi’s voice.

“I’m afraid so, ma’am.”

“She’s hiding something.” Once again Jude is back in front of the murderboard, furiously capping and uncapping a whiteboard marker as her mind whirls. She’s full of nervous energy, on the brink of a precipice and she wants nothing more than to be able to push herself off of it.

“Agreed.” Cardan is pacing the floor between her and the murder board and his posture indicates that he’s just as worked up as she is.

“But what I can’t understand is why she would kill two of her acquaintances plus a random vending machine operator, I mean, there’s no clear motive.” She’s barely conscious of the slight pain that tingles as she worries at her bottom lip.

Cardan halts in front of the board, takes a hard look at the scrawled timeline on it before once more resuming his brisk walk.

“And what the hell is the connection between these three victims? They lived in opposite neighbourhoods, worked in completely different areas and fields, never seemed to have been in the same place at the same time and yet somehow they were killed by the same hand. Also, where did all that money come from?”

His phone chooses precisely that moment to start ringing and the sound of ‘Horns’ by Bryce Fox cuts through the tension.

“It’s Liliver,” he mouths as he swipes upwards to answer and puts the medical examiner on speaker phone.

“You got something for us Lil?’

“You bet I do. I had scraps from the victims’ clothings tested to try and find a common link. What I found were traces of bleach, acetone, sodium chloride and ammonia.”

“Drugs. They were making drugs. That would explain all the money.” Jude is burning and luminescent with victory, until Lili’s next words cut her down.

“It’s not drugs.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because of what isn’t there. If your vics were making drugs, there’d need to be a couple more ingredients. That being said, they were definitely up to something.”

She lets out a sigh of defeat. “Thanks, Lil.”

Cardan hangs up before bringing his fingers up to his temples, massaging the sides of his head as he burns a hole into the board in front of him.

Jude bites back a scream. “This is like the start of a bad joke, a teacher, a sculptor and a vending machine operator walk into a tattoo parlour…”

He scoffs, “Yeah, except we don’t really have a punchline.”

“Other than ‘they made a bunch of money and got themselves killed.’”

There’s a lull in the air and the frustration is palpable. There was so much more than just their bet at stake here, there was the need for justice for these three victims, who regardless of their crimes likely didn’t deserve what had befallen them. Besides, there was no way that they could let a ruthless killer roam the streets freely.

Suddenly, Cardan whirls around to face her, once again bringing his pacing to an abrupt stop, with a speed to rival that of the animal that was his tattoo inspiration.

“Made a bunch of money,” he repeats.

He sounds like he’s just jumped off of the precipice. She, on the other hand, remained firmly mounted to the ground.

“What?”

“A sculptor who works with metal, a chemist and a vending machine operator...I know what they were up to.”

Slowly, the light starts to dawn on her and her pulse speeds up. Yes, she thinks.

“Think about it, when counterfeiting money, what’s the biggest problem you face? Finding the paper,” he continues.

“And a vending machine operator would have an endless supply of one dollar billls!”

“Exactly, then the chemist would come in, using the chemicals that were found on the vic’s bodies to white wash those bills.”

“And then the sculptor would be able to fashion a set of metal plates with which to type in fake serial numbers’ so they can get larger denominations of money…”

“Right! So, plates, paper, there’s just one missing ingredient.”

Beaming smiles break out on both their faces when, in unison they reach the same conclusion.

The 12th Precinct’s interrogation room had contained many suspects from the time it was built. Some were innocent and some were guilty, but there was no doubt in both Jude and Cardan’s minds that the feline woman currently seated across from them with her legs up on the table was one hundred percent guilty.

“So you think you’ve figured it all out, huh?” Vivi’s drawl is deceptively flippant.

“I think so.” Jude answers calmly. “For instance, we’ve figured out that you were involved in and likely the mastermind behind a counterfeiting operation that raked in a substantial amount of money. You provided the last ingredient needed, the ink from your tattoo parlour stocks that was used to print on the bills.”

Cardan leans forward. “We’ve also surmised that you killed your partners in said operation; Taryn Santorini and Chloe Tatterfell, both of whom you met through your tattoo parlour, just like you said.”

“And our third victim, Locke McCutchins? Yeah, we know he was your cousin, once removed on your mother’s side wasn’t it? A distant enough relationship for you to not be flagged when checking his family, but close enough for you to enlist him in your scheme so you had access to vending machine bills.” Jude continues, she and Cardan having perfected the art of interrogating together ages ago, their tactics working smoothly together alongside each other.

Vivienne sneers. “So what? You have no proof.”

“On the contrary, ma’am, we do. You neglected to hide the metal plates that you got Taryn to make for you in a place that wasn’t under a loose floorboard of your room, easily found with the aid of a search warrant.” Cardan smiles.

“You also tripped up when you stored your used gun with matching ballistics to the weapon that killed our victims in the same place as the plates.” Cardan’s smile is copied on Jude’s face.

Vivi’s skin pales and her cat’s eyes narrow into slits as she bangs the table, hard, before slouching back in the metal chair, the fight leaving her.

“Well, I suppose the jig is up, as they say,” she drawls.

Satisfied, Jude stands up and gathers the notepad and pen that she’d left on the desk and then bends over the interrogation table to meet Vivi’s gaze.

“What I can’t understand, though, is why? Why would you kill them if you’d already paid them?”

The Accused smirks. “It was all that idiot Lockes’s fault. He’d gotten himself into debt with some mob shark and needed more dough to bail his sorry self out. I wasn’t about to give it, he had his cut and that was all. But then, he threatened to go to the cops and tell them about what we did. Couldn’t let that happen, so I figured I’d kill ‘em all of. Just to be safe.”

The casual way in which she speaks of her deeds chills Jude to the bone. Wordlessly, she turns her back on yet another cold hearted murderer and exits the room with Cardan right behind her.

They come to a stop in front of the now empty murderboard, its surface shiny and white, devoid of words, but not for long. There was always a murder happening somewhere or the other, Jude had been a detective long enough to know that.

“So, now that Vivienne Insmire, tattoo artist, mastermind and ink supplier of counterfeiting operations and killer of ‘friends’ and distant male cousins is safely behind bars, I think you and I have a certain matter to settle, Duarte.”

She’d been trying hard to avoid this moment all day, pushing back thoughts of her close defeat and what its consequences would be. It seemed like now, she'd run out of time. She gulps.

“I suppose-” she almost can’t bring herself to say the words, “I suppose you won our bet, then.”

“Yup.” He’s not even trying to hide his gloating, “and you know what that means.”

The noise she emits is one that is resigned. She knows what’s coming.

“I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow.”

“Or I could just take a ca-”

“Don’t be late, Duarte,” he calls over his shoulder as he leisurely strolls towards the precinct exit, slinging his leather jacket over his shoulder.

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If you’ve made it all the way down here, congrats! Here’s a link for part 2.

Tagging the lovely people on my short but treasured TFOTA taglist; @cupcakesandkittens (who helped immensely during the writing of this fic and who suggested adding in the interrogation scene❤) and my very own talented Secret Snusband, @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to or taken off of my taglist💕

#anyways Liles I hope you enjoyed!#dd writes #secretsnusband #tfota fanfic #the folk of the air fanfiction #the folk of the air #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #castle #cop au #enemies to lovers #i would also like to say #that i absolutely love vivienne duarte #but she was also badass enough to make a murderer #and i couldn't resist #hopefully this first part was intriguing #and the second part is cheesy in all the right ways #jurdannet #jurdannet revels

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