#bryce x reader angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

steviebbboi · 1 month

Text

Good For It

Pairing: Ari Levinson x F!Reader

Word Count: 8.1k~ (no idea how this happened) 🫣

Summary: Ari was deeply misunderstood by everyone except you. What happens when someone tries to hurt the one person he cares about the most?

Disclaimer: This is my submission for @stargazingfangirl18 writing challenge, "Siri's Birthday Bonenanza"~ Thank you to Siri for hosting this, and hoping that you all enjoy this as much I loved writing it :)

***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't demureeee~~~~

Warnings/Triggers: 18+ Minors DNI; Mentions/threats of violence, mentions of drugging reader (not by Ari), mentions of sexual harassment (again, not by Ari), explicit language, explicit smut, oral sex (f. receiving), p in v, angst, fluff, mentions of trauma, PTSD-like symptoms, Lumberjack!Ari, Veteran!Ari.

Prompts: Ari Levinson x F!Reader feat. Bryce Langley (not involved with Reader at all) + "The moment you or babe realize you’re in love with the other" + "Scary!babe is in love and a simp for you" + "Playful trolling/banter"

Quote Prompts: “Why can’t you just let yourself be loved?!” + “Goddamnit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?” + “You move an inch, and you’ll be sorry. + “Can you just…hold me, please?”

Trope Prompt: Scary, dangerous!babe who is only soft with you

Kink(s) Prompt: Size kink + Praise kink + Squirting + Manhandling +soft!dom (ish) + Possessive!babe + breeding (ish?)

Other kinks: mild choking, spanking, overstimulation (if I missed any TW, feel free to lmk)~

Rowdy laughter and the clinking of glasses came into earshot as you pushed the bar doors open. You greeted the bouncer as you usually did and gave a quick scan of the back of the bar. Once you found who you were looking for, you felt your lips quirk into a small smile as you headed toward the back.

Ari Levinson, the local town recluse with only four friends (including yourself and the bouncer-ish). He’s a retired military veteran and is known as “that weird, scary dude who lives alone up in the mountains.” To be fair, the town’s whispered descriptions of him were not entirely inaccurate.

You could feel the regular, daily stares coming in hot as you continued walking toward the back booths. Although you were used to it at this point, you could feel yourself becoming more tense as the whispers started to creep through.

A tired sigh escaped your lips as you passed by one woman in particular who seemed to always let out a muttered comment under her breath—all synonymous with criticism that you never took lightly.

“Poor girl doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’ll end up in the morgue someday.”

“He just has her wrapped around his finger, huh? Someone should say something.”

“You know he almost beat a guy to death a year ago. What is a sweet girl like her doing with a guy like him?”

“Nobody told her to leave the undesirables alone.”

Any and all comments surrounding Ari’s character felt crushing every time you heard them. In the beginning of your relationship with Ari, you used to cry yourself to sleep every night because some of the comments were so scathing. All these people were just judging you because you were with a person that you deeply cared about.

Ari would be there every night to soothe you (he didn’t care as much about what others said). He would wipe your tears by holding your face in his big hands and kiss you until you couldn’t remember what you were crying about in the first place.

See, there are things that people don’t know about Ari. They judged him based on his background and one incident at the mill. He was hulking over everyone at 6'5", his stature and demeanor a bit more closed off and quiet. When people tried to say hi to him, he would give them a small grunt and continue on his way. He wasn’t a small man by any means, emotionally or physically (of which, your size difference is something you both indulge in, in many ways).

The problem was that they only saw and perceived things from the surface. They didn’t see all of the qualities underneath that make him so desirable, wanted, and valuable to you. With Ari, you felt protected, safe, and secure in ways that you had never experienced before. You never felt disrespected by him in the slightest. People didn’t see that, even through his dark aimless stares or quiet mumbles and grumbles, he still cared and was incredibly kind.

One day, you were working furiously on your laptop as you sat on Ari’s couch. Your work was demanding, and more often than not, you would work your remote 9-to-5 job straight through without taking care of yourself. Ari only ever gazed at you with curiosity and never said anything about it. Although you could tell from his stare that he disapproved of your self-negligence. The next time you sat working, Ari placed some dinner on the coffee table in front of you. The smell of the hot, homemade food made your tummy rumble as you stopped typing after four hours of working nonstop to look up at him with surprise.

“Eat,” Ari said simply and reached out to stroke the exposed skin peeking out from underneath the blanket on top of you before heading back to the kitchen. You usually wouldn’t let anything get in the way of your work, but his act of care was so wholesome and precious that you stopped and ate the whole thing.

Ari came back once you were finished to sit down next to you under the blanket with a book. He made an effort to get comfortable by placing his large, calloused hand on your inner thigh underneath your now-shared afghan before getting back to his reading. You could only stare at him, astonished by how this beefy, quiet giant of a man managed to not only get you to pause your work but also make you eat (disrupting your chain of focus and habits was not an easy feat, just ask your ex-partners). He let out another deep grumble when you kissed his bearded cheek with a soft thank you as you put away your laptop and leaned into his shoulder to read with him.

It was then that you realized Ari, depicted as this scary, violent, tainted, isolated person, was deeply misunderstood.

It was also the moment that you realized you were deeply in love with him.

Coming out of your reverie, you let out the tension that had been carried in your chest as you saw your man start to turn as you finally approached the booth. Your soft smile turned into a genuine grin when your eyes met his. You greeted Sammy (his third friend) as you went to scoot next to Ari. You put an arm around him to give a gentle rub on his large back while giving him a quick kiss on his cheek. As usual, he gave you a quiet, deep mumble of acknowledgement but proceeded to put his muscular arm around you protectively, giving you the opportunity to place the hand that had been shoved to your side around his thick, jean-clad thigh.

“What are we talking about?” You engaged Sammy first, knowing that Ari would likely be more of an active listener, as he usually was.

Sammy and Ari were in service together, along with Rachel (the bartender and the fourth friend, completing the group). Ari was noticeably relaxed with them, as he was with you, but you had no idea how they got the man to talk. You heard stories of their time in active duty, but they never went beyond surface-level details. You knew Ari had done some dangerous work during his time in the military; he never really talked about it, but you could surmise that he was still recovering from it, especially since that incident a year ago.

“Oh, you know, same old, same old. Rachel threw beer on a guy who was trying to score free drinks by hitting on her,” Sammy said with a smirk.

You laughed freely. “Man, I wish I had been there to see it! Some newbie at the office messed something up, and who has to fix it? Me, of course.” You rolled your eyes and put a hand to your forehead to rub away the fatigue.

“Did you eat, baby?” Ari cut in quietly. You turned to meet his concerned gaze and gave him a soft smile with a rub to his knee. “Yes, honey. I was able to have my assistant run out to grab some grub. Don’t worry.”

He gave another affirmative grunt with a nod and shifted to hand you a beer that was hidden at the end of the table. You huffed out a quiet laugh before giving him one last squeeze on the knee before reaching for the drink gratefully. Of course, Ari had already gotten you a drink but only gave it to you after you gave your daily report. He was always looking after you.

“When are they going to gear up and give you that promotion?” Sammy asked, shaking his head.

You gave a despondent shake before sighing. “You know, they’re a small company. I think we’re understaffed as it is right now. That’s why these new hires keep making these small mistakes.”

“Aaaand that’s why they need to promote you to manager, to teach some sense into ‘em! Ari’s always sayin’ you’d be a great supervisor.” He replied with an encouraging smile.

Now you were the one letting out a small questioning mumble while looking down at your drink bashfully. You felt Ari stroke the back of your arm with a firm gentleness, and you knew it really meant, “Yes, you do deserve more.”

This kind of touch was often a reminder for you to believe in yourself and that you deserved better things (a tough job for your ex-partners, you might add). Ari had seemingly broken a cycle for you, helping you genuinely care about yourself in a way you hadn’t before. (All the ways he protects you are just sickeningly cute, aren’t they?)

Bringing yourself back to the present, you gave Sammy a stronger “hm” in response and said, “I know. I mean, when will these bastards just wake up?”

Sammy gave a shout of laughter and a “hell yeah” before giving you another supportive response. You turned to Ari briefly to give him another smile of appreciation, only to notice that he was already looking at you. But the glint in his eyes… you hadn’t seen that before. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered Sammy announcing he was going back to the bar for another drink.

The two of you were now alone, just observing each other. A shiver ran down your spine at his piercing gaze as you asked quietly, “Everything okay, honey?”

At your reserved tone, Ari gave you a subtle, tilted smile. “I love you,” he said simply.

Your breath hitched, and you felt your eyes widen at his surprise revelation. You knew that you loved Ari, maybe even before you realized it yourself. There were many ways the two of you showed your love and care for each other—from cooking food for each other to gentle caresses during more intimate moments. However, this was the first time either of you had ever said it out loud.

Now you were the one stumbling over your words, struggling to respond, swallowing thickly as you tried to say it back. It’s not that you felt you couldn’t, but the man had just revealed that he loved you, in a bar no less! The guy was usually full of grumbles, deep hums, and mumbles. You never would have expected him to reveal something so vulnerable and intimate in an environment like this. You figured your actions would be proof enough, and that was okay with you. You accepted that about Ari—you never expected him to actually say it.

At your floundering, Ari had a full-on smirk on his handsome face. He seemed to appreciate how the tables had turned. You stopped your mumbles once you saw his reaction to your shock and squinted your eyes in fake indignation. His smirk only grew wider, the glint you noticed earlier now turning into an affectionate mirth that you knew Ari reserved just for you.

“Damn him and his sexy, lumberjack hotness,” you thought to yourself. You and Ari both knew you loved it when he teased you like this. You pretended to be upset, but it was all part of how well the two of you bantered throughout your relationship.

Most of your relationship involved speaking in a language your friends couldn’t quite understand, which only played into the image of how polar opposites you two were. But you and Ari reveled in it, just like Ari was now. You were more embarrassed at being caught stumbling on your words, and felt the need to beat him in your little game. The man hadn’t even said anything in the past minute, and he was already winning. He knew how you felt about him; it was just fun for him to see you all flustered.

“HA– alright, Mr. Grumbles. I’m going to get us some more drinks. Did you want anything else?” you said begrudgingly while gathering your glasses to bring back to the bar.

“No, baby. Sammy said he was going to get us some, though.” Ari conceded his smirk (and victory). Speak of the devil, and he shall appear—Sammy came up behind you to slide back into the booth, but with only one drink in his hand. You and Ari stared at him and then looked back at the beer with questioning eyes.

Sammy got comfortable and noticed both of your stares only when he realized that nobody was talking. Glancing down at his own drink, then toward your empty glasses, and back to your amused stares again, he muttered abashedly, “You didn’t say I had to get you another drink too.”

You let out a small giggle and looked back at Ari again to repeat, “Did you want anything else, baby?”

Ari responded with the same amusement in his tone. “No, love.” He grinned back at you as he said the endearment, which only furthered your fake ire. You pouted your lips in playful anger and met his beguiled stare with your own before standing up from the booth.

As you gathered the empty glasses again, you saw Ari attempting to grab them from you as he also stood up from his seat.

“No– don’t worry, Ari. I’ve got it,” you reassured him, but he ignored you and responded only with a grunt. He proceeded to scoot out of the small booth, hunched over the table.

Letting the glasses go, you pressed down on Ari’s shoulders hard to shove him back into his seat. His eyes widened in surprise at the forceful touch as he sat back down, but you knew you hadn’t hurt him. If anything, he lurched back from you since he didn’t want to bump into you while attempting to get out.

“Goddammit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?” you scolded him in feigned anger. You grabbed the glasses quickly and scurried away before he could respond. You only heard him and Sammy laughing at your retreat before the chatter from the other end of the bar became more prominent as you approached.

Setting the two glasses down on an empty section of the bar top, you leaned over slightly to catch Rachel’s perceptive gaze. She nodded with a smile on her face as she made you two new drinks. Glancing around the rest of the bar with mild interest, you couldn’t help but reflect on Ari’s intimate reveal.

A smile spread onto your lips, and you let out a small laugh to yourself. You were in love with a man who communicated with short hums and grunts, and with only three words—he had unraveled you. You felt so happy in that moment to be with someone who could meet you where you were, for once.

At first, you were intimidated by the looming lumberjack, but as you got to know each other, you grew to understand that he didn’t need big, fancy words to connect with you. Ari was the kind of partner who was straightforward with you and never hid anything maliciously while still respecting the integrity of your relationship. You felt grateful to be a part of each other’s lives.

Floating mindlessly in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the man staring at you across the bar. You also didn’t notice him approaching until you heard him say, “Hey there, what are you smiling about, sweetheart?”

Glancing over, the giddiness you felt thinking about your relationship with Ari was now interrupted by feelings of annoyance and suspicion. “I’m good, thanks,” you responded dismissively, not even bothering to answer his question.

“Aw, c’mon—just wanna talk a bit. Hey, are you with anyone right now?” the guy persisted.

Looking at the intrusive person, you could tell he was a bit younger than you. His polo shirt was disheveled, and his demeanor seemed careless. If his side-swept hair wasn’t an indication of his immaturity, it was the way he reeked of alcohol and weed. A smug smile lifted on his face as he assumed you were checking him out, when in reality, you were trying to piece together how to shut this down and walk around him on your way back to the booth.

“Uh, I am. Just waiting for our drinks,” you answered shortly, hoping your dismissiveness would be enough to make him go away. Heckling men never seem to take the hint when you’re not interested, and it seems like telling them off only riles them up more.

“Well, if I were your friend, I certainly wouldn’t have let you come up here by yourself. There are some weirdos out here, y’know?” He leaned onto the bar and into you, his body too close for comfort. You leaned back and crossed your arms defensively.

“I’m sorry—let me? Listen, kid—you got one thing right: there are weirdos out here. Almost like some weirdos just don’t seem to get the hint when they’re harassing women who only want to be left alone by the bar.” You couldn’t hold in your snark as this misogynistic asshole seemed to only smile wider at your reactions.

“Right! That’s why you’re lucky I’m here, sweetheart. Considering that I’m being so helpful by giving you this piece of advice, I think that now makes us friends.” He laughed, ignoring your irritation.

“Everything okay here?” You looked up to find Rachel putting down the newly made beers while looking the stranger dead in the eyes. You could see him squirm a bit, and you stifled a giggle—you were always amused to see her put men in their place.

“It’s okay, Rach. I’m heading back to those two dummies, anyway.” You left some bills on the counter. Rachel gave you a look since she always insisted drinks were on the house for you, but you never really listened. She took the money anyway, gave the guy one last daggered look, and made a small dismissive sound before leaving to attend to other customers.

Ignoring Rachel’s reaction, he turned to you and said, “Well, where are these two dummies you speak of? Are they cute like you?” He looked over at the general crowd of women lingering behind you.

You cleared your throat at his blatant ignorance. “Actually, my two dummies are over there.” You pointed to the back where Sammy and Ari’s profiles could be briefly seen.

He followed your hand to see the two men sitting there and let out a surprised “ah.” He looked back at you after seeing the men but couldn’t help but do a double take once he recognized one of them.

“Wait, you’re that guy’s friend?” he asked incredulously, looking at you expectantly.

You gave him a warning look and made an affronted sound. “Careful. ‘Friends’ don’t talk to their friends like that. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” You gestured to take your drinks, which seemed to snap him out of his shock.

“Hey, hey—wait! Relax, relax. That just took me off guard, but… I mean, you do know what he did, right?” He gave you the same look others would give you, almost disgusted, as if he couldn’t believe a ‘girl like you’ would be with a ‘guy like him.’

Your eyes narrowed and you huffed an exasperated breath, preparing to retort, but were interrupted by a voice yelling, “Yo, Bryce, hurry up!” You looked to the end of the bar to see another young man in a polo (god, these entitled kids are a dime a dozen) looking over at you. They wore the same cocky, smug smiles, and you were immediately done with this interaction.

Letting out a scoff, you replied, “Well, Bryce, it’s been real. Now, please, leave me alone.” Not mincing words nor your mocking tone, you started to grab your drinks when you froze in place, frowning as you noticed one of your drinks had an abnormal fizz on top.

“Are you kidding me? Did he just…?” Your thoughts felt scattered as you realized that your drink had been spiked. Your frown persisted as you looked back at Bryce in disbelief. “Did you really just do that?”

Bryce looked nonchalant at your question and, almost innocently, responded, “What are you talking about, sweetheart?” He had a dopey look on his face, but he couldn’t even hide his rising grin at your growing outrage. You knew you weren’t overreacting and you knew what you saw in your drink.

“You just spiked my drink—what the fuck is wrong with you?!” You accused and turned to catch Rachel’s attention. A strong grip twisted your arm back to Bryce as he looked at you with something completely vile in his eyes. He leaned in close to whisper in your ear with venom as you leaned back and attempted to get his hand off you. “Stuck-up bitch. You know you would’ve been asking for it if you didn’t have your killer boyfriend to cover you.”

Feeling his hot breath in your ear made you panic even more, his unrelenting grip getting tighter by the second. You shouted while trying to push him off you, “Get the fuck off of me! LET GO!”

You flailed your limbs more in your attempts to make a scene. You heard a barstool crash to the ground loudly, and all of a sudden Bryce’s fingers were no longer around your arm. The only thing in your vision was a person’s vast back.

Ari.

Catching your breath from your panic, the sounds of the bar that had seemed to mute during your thrashing suddenly tuned back in. You registered pained groans and the utter silence, yet concerned murmurs scattered across the room. Looking over from behind Ari’s back, you saw Sammy putting a hand in between Ari and Bryce, who was now on the floor, clutching his nose with blood spilling out rapidly.

“You fucking prick! I’ll press charges!” Bryce shouted from the ground as his friends crowded around him, trying to get him up.

Rachel raised her voice to be heard amidst the chaos and said, “I saw what happened, asshole. I’d be happy to call the cops and let them know about you and your buddies’ attempts to sexually harass my customers.”

Bryce, now being held up by his friends, looked over at Rachel menacingly. Rachel didn’t back down and walked towards the phone on the wall. “Shall we?”

Bryce hissed in pain from his new injury and looked back to meet Ari’s stone-cold eyes. Sammy turned to face Bryce and his friends with a look of caution, almost ready to get into a fight if it came to that.

Bryce took a heavy gulp, attempting to stare Ari down with bravado. He then locked his jaw and scoffed, “Whatever, I’m out of here.”

The bouncer suddenly appeared behind you, making you startle slightly, and pushed the group toward the exit. As they got closer, you hid yourself behind Ari’s back and gripped his shirt tightly for comfort. You could feel Ari’s hand reach for your waist, and you assumed he could sense your shaking and wanted to offer you more protection and ease.

In your peripheral vision, you could see and feel Bryce’s eyes staring at you, almost as if he wanted to say one last thing. But Ari’s grip on your waist tightened as he turned to face Bryce directly, orienting you with him and blocking his gaze from you. Though you couldn’t see it, Ari looked deadly in that moment, removing any access Bryce had to your presence.

“If you ever come back in here, and if I ever see you near her again, I will hurt you,” Ari said quietly, but his warning reverberated across the large space. “And you know that I’m good for it.”

Bryce, still clutching his nose, averted his gaze and continued moving toward the exit.

As the group exited, people still looked over but gradually returned to their tables and muttered conversations. The jukebox came back on at a lower volume, and people eventually resumed their activities.

You were still clutching Ari’s back as you released a sigh of relief. You leaned into him, your forehead resting between his shoulders. The adrenaline had left you with residual energy, and it was noticeably hard for you to regulate your emotions. Ari heard you release one more exhale in an attempt to calm down before he turned to meet your tight grip with his strong hands.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, baby.” He released your hands with one last squeeze and cupped your face sweetly. He whispered more reassurances as he pulled your face close to his and leaned down to give you a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Sammy, we’re gonna get going.” Ari glanced at the teary-eyed look on your face and knew you couldn’t stay. He wouldn’t have expected you to, either—he was accustomed to chaotic and loud environments, able to regulate during scary situations. Ari knew this was exceptionally jarring for you, and he desperately wanted to protect you from any feelings of unsafety. His priority since you entered his life was to preserve your softness, and if his hard exterior could help do that, he would go to any length to ensure you felt secure with him.

“Of course, check in and get home safe.” You also turned to give Sammy and Rachel a soft smile and a quiet ‘thank you.’ If there was any effort to expend, it would be that.

They returned your smile with reminders to be safe while driving home, and Ari took your small hand in his to lead you to the exit. You both passed by the bouncer, who returned Ari’s thanks for earlier with an affirmative nod and also gave you a parting “feel better.” You muttered your appreciation and clutched Ari’s forearm with your other hand still in his. You felt that if you weren’t right by his side, if he weren’t touching you, the panic would rush back in.

On the car ride back to Ari’s place, you kept yourself as close to him as possible. The truck’s seats facilitated closeness; Ari wrapped his right arm around you protectively while driving with his left.

Ari appreciated that you felt safe with him. Unbeknownst to you, his own panic about losing you crept in whenever you weren’t by his side.

His arm wrapped around you tighter, and his caress provided comfort for him as well during the rest of the ride home.

Later that night, after Ari got out of the shower, you noticed cuts on his knuckles from his punch earlier.

“Ari, why didn’t you say anything earlier? Come here.” You scolded him as you led the giant of a man (a very half-naked, still wet giant of a man—okay, focus) to sit on the toilet seat.

“Baby, it’s fine—” Ari began to say, but you interrupted him, “Honey, let me do this—why can’t you just let yourself be loved?!” Ari let out a rare scoffed smile at your dramatic flair before acknowledging you with his usual grunt. You returned his smile and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

Ari watched you as you ventured over to the bathroom counter to gather the first aid kit. You were already in your sleep clothes—simple camisole and shorts. Though he remained silent, you could feel his eyes roaming over your newly exposed skin. You glanced up at the wide mirror and caught him in the act as his gaze lingered a bit too long on your ass. You stifled a small laugh, and his eyes met yours unashamedly.

You turned to walk back over to him, and his eyes never left yours as you took his palm gently between your hands. As you cleaned the small wound, you could feel his gaze burning on your skin. You took your time patching him up, and with the last bandage, you brought his burly hand to your lips, planting a meaningful kiss on his knuckles. Continuing to brush your lips against the back of his hand, you left more kisses until you reached the underside of his wrist.

Ari’s gaze darkened with every peck of affection you left on his clean skin. As you raised his hand to rest it on your cheek, Ari’s other arm wrapped around the low of your waist, pulling you in closer. Deciding you weren’t close enough, you straddled his towel-clad waist. Enjoying the intimacy, you both savored the simplicity of feeling safe in each other’s embrace. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you softly caressed his wet strands of hair away from his face. Tucking your face into the crevice of his neck, you closed your eyes and hummed contentedly, feeling his large hands rub up and down your back. You felt so small enveloped in his arms.

“Look at me, baby,” Ari whispered softly. He laid a calloused hand on your cheek and stroked it gently with his thumb. His other arm remained wrapped around you to support you, and he said, “I know that we don’t talk about this often enough, but I want you to know that I would never hurt you. Ever.”

You gave Ari a confused look. “I know that, Ari. I trust you. I always feel safe with you.” His eyes were full of concern as you rushed to reassure him. Your own hand rested on his bearded cheek. “I know that what happened at the mill last year has lingered a bit.”

He turned his gaze downward until you cooed at him, making him look back at you. “Hey, I know you. I know that you were only doing what you thought was right. At that moment, it was about protecting Sammy. The guy was making threats against you both. It made sense that you went to defend yourself.”

Ari was quiet for a minute. You continued stroking his cheek to let him process. This was a vulnerable conversation for Ari that his usual grunts couldn’t explain.

He broke the silence by saying, “I lied to you.”

Your heart froze, and you felt even more confused. Your hand dropped back down to grip his bulky shoulder. “What do you mean?” you asked tentatively.

Ari met your curious gaze with an ashamed look. “He wasn’t making threats against Sammy… he was saying things about you. Us. How a woman like you shouldn’t be with someone like me—‘damaged goods.’”

Lines formed between your eyebrows as you tried to register what Ari was saying. Leaning into your silence, he continued, “Then he started saying that he would be a better fit for you. He talked about all the ways he would treat you better, and then he shoved me and… I just lost it.” Ari’s mouth twisted grimly, and his eyes held a weighted look. “I just… didn’t want to lose you.”

Swallowing thickly, you reflected on that time in your relationship when you heard about Ari being involved in an accident at the mill. It wasn’t until you saw him that you realized there had been no accident, and that Ari had put his co-worker in the hospital. Of course, you worried about the implications of his actions and what it would mean for the two of you. At a certain point, you did question your safety with Ari.

But you remembered meeting him at the station when the police let him go due to it being self-defense (and many of Ari’s co-workers, including Sammy, vouching for the incident). He had the same look that he had now—fear.

In that moment, despite what he had done, you knew there was something so strong and willed behind his reaction. He was so protective and gentle with you, and you believed him. You believed that that was the man that you were falling in love with. You just never would have guessed it came from the fear of losing you.

Realizing you had been quiet for a while as you processed your feelings and what you wanted to say, Ari didn’t move from his position. He licked his lips nervously, waiting for your response.

Releasing a slow breath, you cupped Ari’s face in your hands and looked him in the eye. “You protect, Ari, that’s just what you do.”

Ari exhaled in relief and felt a dark weight lift off of his shoulders, his stomach no longer churning, while putting his forehead to your chest. He moved his arms under your butt and lifted you slightly to do this but you embraced him openly. You stroked his hair again as he started kissing your exposed skin above your breast until he was laying a series of soft kisses up your neck. You both knew what his kisses really meant: “I’m sorry, I love you.”

You hummed out a soft moan as his lips found that spot under your ear that felt extra sensitive to his touch. Turning his face to meet your cheek, he tilted his head slightly so that he could finally reach your mouth. You allowed Ari to control the pace of the kiss and moaned when you felt his tongue softly caress yours.

The tension in the air quickly thickened into something more primal and electric from Ari’s confession. There was something about this huge, strong man protecting only you that made you feel so worshiped and desired. These feelings start to overcome you and you move to sit on top of Ari’s towel-covered erection only to grind yourself down on him. Ari groaned sensually into the kiss at the feeling of delicious pressure sitting on his hard cock. Your mouths continue languidly meeting each other when you let out a squeak from Ari suddenly gripping your thighs tightly to carry you back into the bedroom.

You released a squeal as Ari threw you on top of the bed before dropping his towel on the floor. Breathing heavier, you backed up on the bed to get a better look at his glorious sculpted figure and Ari only smirked at your hooded eyes gazing all over his body. Standing at the edge of the bed, Ari decided that you were too far away and he gripped your ankle to roughly tug you back towards him. Letting out another brief squeal and giggle, you quickly sought into his rhythm as he kneeled onto the bed.

His bulking mass overshadowed you as he leaned forward to place more deceivingly gentle kisses upon the exposed skin of your stomach where your tank top rode up. Your stomach fluttered as you could feel his kisses getting wetter, and were leading down towards your cotton-clad pussy. You whined in anticipation as Ari gently tugged off your shorts to reveal your soaking core.

Ari let out a deep groan at the sight of your pussy weeping for his touch. Using his hands to spread your legs open to make space for his massive stature, you gasped for air even though he has barely touched you. You stroke the hands holding you down and beg, “Ari, please. Please do something.”

At your begging, Ari released a louder groan this time. “God, baby. Look at you just creaming for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet. You want me to take care of you, sweet girl?”

He used his forearms to hold your already squirming legs down as he used his thumb to cut through a string of wet and reveal your thrumming pink clit. Not being able to resist his own yearning, he gave a firm lick up your cunt and released a deep groan at the first taste of you on his tongue. “Oh fuck, you taste so fucking sweet.” He groaned and went back into your cunt for more.

You sobbed your pleasure at the feeling of his tongue caressing your wet folds, “Yes, please, Ari– please!” His tongue continued licking all over your pussy while he released his own small moans at the taste of you. He made sure to thrust his tongue into your soaked opening before licking his way back towards your now puffy clit.

Your moans steadily increased in volume and small, short-bursts of whimpers fell out of your mouth as Ari devoured you. Feeling his lips suction at your clit, you mewl and feel his thick finger start to breach your entrance. Your head fell back on the bed, your mouth agape at the sheer pleasure you were receiving from your man. One hand tightly gripping the sheet next to you and the other wrapped in Ari’s hair as you kept him in place, your hips started to thrust back into his mouth and fingers. Not expecting for you to turn so wildly, Ari’s mouth left your clit unwillingly. Letting out a whine at the loss of warmth, you press down on the back of Ari’s head to get him back into position.

But all of a sudden, you felt a sharp smack on your ass and you let out a yelp. Ari was still thrusting his finger, and inserting a second one, at a slower pace when he looked up at you. His lips and beard glistened with your wetness when he said darkly, “You move an inch, and you’ll be sorry. Do you understand me, baby?”

You could only respond with a soft whimper before letting out another cry as he slapped your ass again. “I said, do you understand me?”

“Yes, Ari, I understand.” You responded with a glazed look in your eye at the combination of pain from his smacks and pleasure from his domineering words.

“There’s my sweet girl, so good for me.” Ari said before he kissed his way back to your sopping cunt, his fingers thrusting faster now as his mouth created a suction on your clit again. Releasing out a louder cry at the transition, you could feel Ari’s fingers start to push deeper and curve inside of you to find your g-spot. You let out a sharp gasp once you felt him start to stroke that spongy spot over and over again while his tongue started to softly create a rhythmic pattern on your throbbing bud.

The other thing about your relationship with Ari is that he was the most vocal when you were fucking. He always let you know how you felt around him and freely praised you as you gave each other the most visceral and intense experience. Anticipating more from him, your body rolled with his fingers to get him even deeper inside of you.

Only squeaking out sounds now, your high-pitched tones of pleasure were music to Ari’s ears. Your wet starting to squelch around his fingers and spurt out of you, Ari knew you were almost there. His fingers thrusted faster into you and curved in deeper with each thrust. He groaned, “Hmm, yeah baby? Is this the spot right here?”

You couldn’t conjure up a response as you were only experiencing the immense pleasure that he was giving to you and almost animalistic groans started leaving your throat. Ari looked up to see your head thrown back on the bed and your upper body contorting, your tanktop having ridden up and was now showing your beautiful perky, round breasts. Nipples peaked in heightened pleasure. Witnessing you like this was a privilege for Ari and he never thought you looked more beautiful than when you were writhing for him in the bedroom.

A deep desire to witness more of you, Ari increased his efforts by pushing down on your tummy just above your mount. “Yeah, that’s the spot. Be a good girl for me, and let me have it. Let go for me.” He breathes against your slit while giving you one last intentional suck and rapid licking at your clit.

Inhaling sharply, his words were your undoing as you felt that tight knot inside of you tear in ecstasy. Your head tossed back in euphoria as you cum hard, your pussy clenched around his fingers. Though, Ari didn’t stop thrusting his fingers deep inside of you. Whispering good girl and so sweet against your thrumming folds as he continued to coach you through your release.

You let out a satiated whimper at experiencing your orgasm but Ari wasn’t stopping. If anything, his fingers curved into your g-spot faster and his tongue licked harder at your humming, swollen clit. You did thrash at the overstimulation. Your disobedience resulted in Ari slapping your ass once more. Even though it was served as a punishment, it seemed to only end up heightening your yearning for a second release. Noticing that your juices were spurting out excessively now, Ari kept slapping your ass as your pussy gripped tighter onto his large fingers.

Letting out a myriad of whimpers and desperate moans, you sobbed out, “Ari please, please…I can’t do it, please!”

“Yes, you can baby, you can. Don’t you want to be good for me?”

You couldn’t answer him other than your random babblings– you couldn’t even think as you felt so consumed by the pleasure that he was giving you. You felt like you were being consumed by him and adored at the same time.

A cry left your lips as he slapped your ass harder. “I asked you a question, are you my good girl?”

“Yes, yes, please, let me cum, please!” You sobbed out.

Ari grunted deeply, “Your pussy is begging for it– you hear that?” He quieted only for the sounds of your own wetness slopping out of you to fill the space. “Mmm, see, I know you can do it, just one more, love.” Ari went back to suckling on your clit while he rubbed and grabbed at your now pink-colored flesh.

Hearing him use this endearment again as his lips never left your body made your eyes roll up and you inadvertently held your breath as you let go for the second time. You register Ari’s moans and praise against your clit as you squirt your cum into his awaiting mouth.

All you could let out were quiet mumbles of satisfaction as Ari’s fingers slowed. Your body was still jerking as it carried out aftershocks of your release, and you let out another sharp breath as Ari left one last kiss on your velvety folds.

You were attempting to catch your breath as Ari kissed his way up your body, spending some time on your nipples by taking one in his mouth while his hand caressed your other breast. Ari brought up his fingers that were just inside of you to stroke your nipple and groaned as you glistened with your own cum. Leaning down, he took your nipple in his mouth again to suck it clean. You moaned softly and arched your back to give him more access as your hands stroked affectionately through his hair.

Working his way back towards your bite-ridden lips, Ari slanted his wet mouth over yours as you taste yourself on his tongue. The both of you moaned as you continued making out leisurely. Ari pulled back to lick your lips sensually before dipping into your open mouth one more time for his tongue to meet yours in a passionate, sloppy dance.

Ari stroked your hair away from your face. “You ready for my cock, baby?”

You whined and nodded as he leaned down to give you another wet kiss. You feel him reaching for his cock, hard and resting on your clit heavily. You mewled at him again as he slapped your clit with the wide mushroom head of his cock and he pushed in slowly.

Groaning together at the feel of his thick cock bottoming in you, Ari lets out a strained moan. “Fuuuck baby, your pretty pussy is just sucking me in. Agh, so tight.”

He withdrew until he was almost out of you before thrusting back into you deeply. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth fell open as you could feel the veins on his girthy cock graze your inner walls.

Ari leaned his head back in ecstasy at the feel of you clenching around him. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned out your name, “Yes, take it, baby. Take my fat cock.”

You felt like you could barely breathe as his thrusts became faster and harder. He was sinking in so deep and you were gasping for air at all of the sensations your body was experiencing. Besides your mutual groans and moans, the sounds of your union could be heard as you only became wetter at the stimulation.

“I’m so full, so full…so big, Ari.” You mumbled out, your eyes crossed in ecstasy. Ari let out a condescending laugh, “Aww, look at you. Can’t even speak, can you? Just continue taking my cock, honey, you’re so good at it.”

Ari leaned up and thrust out of you, despite your desperate whining, only to turn you on your stomach. You feel him kneel outside of your thighs that were clenched together, and only had time to hold onto the pillow in front of you as he thrust back in. You gasped out a high pitched moan and small, repeated sounds of pleasure came out of your mouth as you felt his long shaft pit up against your g-spot with every thrust.

“There she is, yesss. You’re so fucking tight when I take you like this, baby. Your pussy is gripping me like a vice, goddamn.” Ari groaned louder as your warmth enveloped him. Tension started brewing again deep inside your belly as he thrust faster into you.

Leaning down, his chest was damp and his hair grazed your smooth skin as it met your back. He lifted you slightly to wrap his right hand around your neck and squeezed. He whispered harshly in your ear, “Don’t ever forget that you’re mine. This pussy is mine, your body. I’ll always protect you, you hear me, love?”

Gripping onto the pillow in front of you fiercely, you couldn’t contain your moans that were now resonating in the room. His possessiveness, his fingers gripping your throat so protectively, and the passion in his words made you feel so hot, you felt that coil in your belly about to snap. The sensation pulling at that area inside of you that felt so full and relieving when released. “Ari, yes, I’m yours! You’re gonna make me cum again!”

“Yeah, I am, love. Soak my cock, make a mess with my pussy.” He released the grip on your throat to lean back up and take your hips in his hands for full control. His thrusts were consistently hard and deep. It twisted that coil inside of you so delightfully that you finally snapped and cried out your orgasm.

Ari’s thrusts became sloppier as your juices squirted around his cock. He bellowed out a deep and low groan from his strained throat and followed you as you rode out your orgasm against him. You moan at the feeling of his dick throbbing inside of you and feeling him cum so deep in your pussy made you feel like you were being claimed. His dick was still buried deep inside as you gyrated against him. At the overstimulation, Ari thrust out of you with a sharp hiss and a mixture of your cum with his started to spurt out of you.

“Fuck, so pretty, baby. Here, let me help you.” He breathed out heavily while his hand left your hip to use his finger to push your combined cum back into your quivering pussy. You moaned out at the sensation of his thick finger thrusting his warm spend further into you and mewled in content.

Ari kneaded and squeezed your ass one last time before attempting to get off the bed to get a towel to clean you up but you clutched his hand before he could fully leave and pleaded, “Wait baby, stay. Can you just…hold me, please?”

He picked up the hand that you were holding to kiss the back of yours softly and collapsed on the bed next to you as you leaned into his outstretched arms. Cuddling him as your head rested over his chest, you felt him graze his fingers soothingly on your arm. You both were satiated in your passionate release, and after the day that you had, you both were starting to feel the effects of it.

Embracing you in his arms, the warmth of your body and the softness of your skin felt like heaven against him. Before his sleepy eyes shut completely, you gave him a gentle tap above his heart to get his attention one last time. He peered down at you and gave you a relaxed grin. With his familiar grunt, his eyes questioned your touch.

You gazed into his blue eyes that were filled with such affection, the same glint that you saw earlier at the bar. A familiar burning in your eyes started to come on at his stare, but you blinked them away to smile back fondly at him.

“I love you too, Ari.”

A/N: Welp! We made it -- I'm hoping ya'll enjoyed Ari and reader on this one. Something about Lumberjack!Ari being protective and only having eyes for you makes me feral and that can be the only explanation as to why this is so long lol. I would love to know what ya'll thought! Speak soon, lads~

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#happy birthday siri 2024 #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction #ari levinson x you #chris evans characters #ari levinson smut

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sourmaybank · 10 days

Text

Icebound Devotion

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader || WC: 1.7k

SUMMARY: a case involving a couple of hockey players makes Spencer doubt if you deserve better.

WARNINGS: established relationship, typical criminal minds level violence, mild angst, talks of blood and gore

A/N: i’ve been on a criminal minds kick lately, especially Spencer sooo this came to mind especially with it being hockey season very soon! Hope y’all enjoy! This is my first work on tumblr and I’m pretty proud of it! Graphic divider is from @firefly-graphics <3

➩ main masterlist

“Good morning my beautiful people!” The cheery voice of Penelope Garcia rang out throughout the conference room. “I hope my presence brought you some comfort because this one’s a real doozy.” She grimaced, taking a breath before displaying the BAU’s latest case on the screen.

“Twenty-two-year-old Bryce Carter from Detroit, Michigan, was found dead in the men’s locker room by one of his fellow hockey teammates. Detroit police said that poor Bryce Carter was bludgeoned to death by his own hockey skate and that his hockey stick was lodged into both of his legs.” She closed her eyes in utter disbelief as the words left her mouth.

“Bludgeoned to death by a skate and having his hockey stick lodged into his legs, that’s clear overkill,” Derek pointed out. “This Unsub has some clear anger issues.” You chimed in grimacing at the bloody crime scene photos in front of you.

Spencer adjusted his glasses and added, “The use of the hockey equipment as murder weapons could indicate a personal vendetta. The unsub might have a deep connection to the sport or even to Bryce himself. Hockey skates are incredibly sharp and can cause significant damage, while the force required to lodge a hockey stick into someone’s legs suggests immense rage.”

JJ nodded, “We should look into Bryce’s personal relationships, both on and off the ice. Any recent conflicts or unusual behavior from teammates or rivals?”

Rossi leaned back in his chair and mused, “You know, hockey is a sport where tempers can flare easily. We might be looking at someone who snapped in the heat of the moment. But the brutality of this attack suggests it’s more than just a moment of rage.”

Kate added, “We should also consider the possibility of a fan or someone from outside the team. Hockey fans can be incredibly passionate, sometimes to the point of obsession. If Bryce had a stalker or an overly enthusiastic fan, that could be another angle.”

Hotch stood up, “All of you have great points. Garcia, I want you to gather all the information you can on Bryce’s teammates, coaches, and anyone else connected to the team. We need to understand the dynamics at play here. As for the rest of you, we’ll discuss each and every one of your theories with more depth on the jet. Wheels up in thirty.”

As the team dispersed to start their investigation, you couldn’t help but feel a chill run down you spine. “Hey,” Spencer coaxed noticing your stiff demeanor. “We’re going to solve this just like all the others.” He reassured, squeezing you into one of his bone crushing hugs. This case was definitely going to be a tough one.

Arriving in Michigan, the cold air instantly bit at your cheeks as you stepped out of the car. The city was alive with the spirit of hockey, banners and posters of the local team adorning every corner.

As directed by Hotch, you and JJ were to go down to the ice rink and interrogate all of Bryce’s teammates, coaches, and even standby staff and fans whom were present.

Inside, the sound of skates slicing through ice and the thud of pucks hitting the boards filled the air. The players noticed your presence almost immediately and skated over, their expressions a mix of annoyance and curiosity.

“Alright, gentlemen,” you began pulling out your credentials alongside JJ, your tone firm but fair, "My name is SSA Y/N Y/L/N and this is SSA Jennifer Jareau, we need to go over a few things from the other day. We have some questions that need answers regarding your teammate Bryce Carter.”

One of the players, a tall blonde guy with a stern face, skated forward. “What do you want to know?” JJ took out her notebook, her eyes scanning the group. “We need to understand your whereabouts on the night of the incident. Any detail, no matter how small, could be helpful.”

The players exchanged glances before another spoke up. “We were all at the rink, practicing late. After that, we went to Joe’s Bar. You can check with the bartender.”

You nodded, watching JJ jot down the information. “We will. But we also need to know if any of you had any contact with the victim prior to the incident." You took a second, a question quickly emerging. "Why wasn't Bryce at the bar with you guys? After all he was found here by the night janitor."

The tall player whom you and JJ quickly noticed was the alpha male of the group frowned. “Look, we didn’t have anything to do with it. We’re just here to play hockey. As for Bryce, he was too good to go out drinking with the rest of us.”

JJ"s gaze was steady. “We understand that, but we need to cover all our bases. If there’s anything else you remember, now is the time to speak up.”

As you continued the questioning, you noticed a few of the players exchanging smirks and glances specifically towards you. One of them, a guy with a charming smile and tousled brown hair, skated closer to you. “So, Agent, how long are you in town for?”

Before you could respond, another player chimed in, “Yeah, maybe you can catch one of our games. We could use some good luck from someone like you.” He smirked looking at you up and down shamelessly.

JJ raised an eyebrow, her expression unimpressed. “We’re here to work, not to watch games.” You stepped in, refocusing the conversation. “Alright, enough. We’re here to solve a case, not to make friends. If you remember anything else, contact us immediately.”

The players nodded, their flirtatious demeanor never fading, in fact they were only encouraged as you handed them your card . You and JJ exchanged a glance, knowing that despite the distractions, you were one step closer to finding the truth.

You could not be happier arriving at the station, following JJ to the makeshift conference room the Detroit Sheriff's station had kindly offered. "Here they come." Rossi greeted being the first to notice your return. "Welcome back." Kate smiled. "Glad to be back." JJ huffed making you nod in agreement.

"How many muscled hockey players were checking you out?" Morgan teased despite knowing that you and Spencer had been in a committed relationship for almost three years.

"I don't know Morgan, I was there for work." You emphasized dropping your body in the seat next to Spencer whom was working the geographical profile.

"Good job you two." Hotch praised turning from the evidence board he was working on. "Garcia was able to find two more victims who were also bludgeoned by skates and pierced with hockey sticks."

Spencer looked up from his work, giving you a reassuring smile. "It looks like we're starting to see a pattern here. These new victims might help us narrow down the suspect pool." You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

"That's good news. The sooner we can catch this guy, the better." Hotch continued, "We need to cross-reference the new victims with our existing list and see if there are any common connections. Garcia is already on it." He glanced at his watch noticing how late it was.

"You know what, team? Let's call it a night," Hotch decided. "We can come back refreshed in the morning and tackle this with clear minds." Everyone in the room visibly relaxed at the prospect of some much-needed rest.

As you stood up, Spencer gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "We'll get him," He said softly, his eyes full of reassurance. You nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. "Yeah, we will." Finally getting a moment alone since landing in Michigan, Spencer turned his attention towards you.

“You seem drained, were the interrogations that bad?” You shrugged slinging your bag over your tense shoulder. “Just like any normal interrogation except I think I had enough testosterone for one day.”

Smiling you leaned against him, “I don’t know about you but I’m ready for a nice warm shower and some room service. How does that sound?” You knew something was wrong the second Spencer did not respond to that. It didn't take a profiler to know that Morgan's earlier comments had gotten to him.

Spencer simply stood there, his eyes clouded with doubt, his mind plagued with thoughts of inferiority. He imagined seeing you surrounded by confident, charismatic guys, and it made him question his worth. You could immediately sense his unease, and it broke you heart to see him like this.

Determined to erase his doubts, you stepped closer, gently placing you hands on his shoulders. "Spencer," You whispered, voice soft but firm, "There's no one better than you." Before he could respond, you leaned in, lips meeting his in a kiss that was both tender and passionate.

You made sure to pour your heart and soul into that kiss, letting him feel the depth of your love and commitment. Your lips moved against his with a gentle insistence, conveying all the emotions you couldn't put into words. You could feel his initial hesitation, but as the kiss deepened, he began to relax, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer.

Smiling into the kiss, your fingers threaded through his hair, holding him close, as if to say, "You're the only one for me." Each movement of your lips was a reassurance, a promise that no one else could ever take his place in your heart. When you both finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, looking into his honey-hued eyes that had you smitten since day one.

"Spencer," you said softly, "You are everything to me. Don't ever doubt that." His eyes softened, the shadows of doubt fading away. Just as he was about to reassure you that he was okay and that he'd never let Morgan get in his head again, he noticed an unmistaken group of hockey players walk out of the station, completely defeated.

Spencer turned to you completely confounded. “You planned this.” You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Come on, pretty boy, I think they got the message loud and clear.” Grinning, Spencer nodded and grabbed your hips, pulling you closer, indulging in another kiss just because.

The hockey players exchanged glances, their earlier bravado now replaced with a sense of unease. Spencer's hand tightened around yours as he whispered, “I guess we showed them, huh?” You chuckled, “Yeah, we sure did. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

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makeyoumine69 · 5 months

Text

Euphoria (Memory Reboot x2)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: After wrestling with the lingering thoughts of Bateman, you finally found yourself open to Paul Allen's offer — a life-changing opportunity. But despite your resolve, you couldn't shake the need for closure. Determined, you sought one last encounter with Patrick, intent on resolving the unsaid and the undone before the cityscape of New York faded into your past.

CONTAINS: Smut, angst, mutual pining, obsessive behavior, desperate & sensual foreplay, anal fingering, pegging, sex toys, face riding, penetrative sex, rimming (Patrick receiving), oral sex (69, blowjobs), edging, biting, spanking, cum shot, masturbating, praise kink, body worship, drug usage, pet names, dirty talk, needy Patrick, misogyny, swearing, gaslighting, manhandling, mind manipulation.

WORDS: 8.7k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Euphoria

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm sorry it took me quite long to write this, I hope you like it! If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [CHAPTER 1].

The clock’s ticking was the only sound in the opulent meeting room of Pierce & Pierce office. Your heart seemed to beat to the rhyme of ticking, while you were nervously spinning the thin cigarette in your hands but never really trying to actually smoke; the glass ashtray in front of you would probably be left empty till the end of the day. It was even funny how drastically things changed after that…moment of privacy you shared with Bateman. Starting from that, you couldn’t really get him out of your head, even though it has already been several weeks of your pretending game of “nothing had happened” between you and Patrick. It was a matter of time, when your colleagues would start to notice your strange behavior whenever you and Bateman were in one room.

Squeezing the cigarette between your shaky fingers, you turned around in the leather chair to look at the New York skyline through the wide window. ‘That it is not an exit,’ echoed in your ears and you tried to shake the nervousness off from your tense shoulders, but the more you were being alone, the more surrounding space was weighing on you as if you were on the very bottom of the Pacific ocean.

The moment the door swung open and Timothy Bryce entered the meeting room, you were more in control of yourself. “Hey, Tim. Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Sorry, (y/n). Had a business call with some delusional prick.” Bryce snarled and took a seat across from you.

“Delusional prick?”

"Yeah, you know...delusional," he chuckled and glanced at the cigarette in your hand, which was still more like an accessory. "The guy thought I gave a fuck about his life and his wife, who used to be a whore, by the way."

With a soft snicker, you made yourself more comfortable in your chair, throwing one leg over another. “Wanna smoke?”

“Yep,” he leaned over the table to take the cigarette, your fingers touched for a moment but none of you paid attention. “So, what happened? Why did you want to see me?”

Confused, you took a moment to think about your answer. You worried a lot about picking the right words, but now you were even more anxious. ‘I just need to tell him the truth and that’s all,’ you reassured yourself before turning to face Tim. “Well, the thing is - I’m quitting P & P.”

Tim’s face remained unchanged for a second, but then the man furrowed his brows, tilting his head and rubbing his ear as if he didn’t hear. “You're what? Quitting?”

"Right," you gave him a half-smile and continued. "Recently, I received a very... very good offer from one company in Chicago."

“Jesus Christ. Chicago? Really?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Bryce lit the cigarette and leaned back in his chair. “Who the fuck even gave you this idea? And why so sudden? You have such a good job here, with a good salary and…” He paused and blew a few rings of smoke. “Do those bastards pay well?”

Laughing heartily, you crossed your arms over your chest and watched the smoke dividing the room in two with a white veil. “So many questions. Are you interested in leaving Pierce & Pierce too?” That was not a serious question, since you knew that Bryce was more than satisfied with his job. “If I say who recommended that place to me, will you keep it a secret?” Tim nodded even before you could say something else. “I was at one P&P party, that one you decided to skip a week ago. So, there I met Paul Allen and we talked a bit and he mentioned that he just came back from his business trip from Chicago…we had a long conversation, but as a result he proposed to me to think about the option to change my current job.”

All the time while you were speaking, Tim was glancing at you with wide open eyes, his prominent brows curling up and down whenever you mentioned Paul Allen’s name. It was always funny for you to watch Bateman & Co getting so frustrated and annoyed whenever Allen was around or whenever someone discussed his success with having the Fisher account. To say the least, his ability to get a reservation at Dorsia. ‘I’m not gonna tell any of them that Allen offered me dinner in Dorsia after that party.’

“So you were unsatisfied with your job all this time and didn’t say anything? That sucks, (y/n). Didn’t expect that to come, not gonna lie,” Bryce made a low sound which was very similar to growling, but at the same time it also sounded like a scoff. “But, if that really is what you want, then who am I to judge you? We have only one life to fulfill all our needs, right?”

Timothy’s statement was like a balm to your soul, that was exactly what you hoped he would tell you and when he did, you felt some kind of relief washing over you like a breeze of fresh air.

“Thank you, Tim,” you finally grinned and put your elbows on the table. “Glad you didn’t start to read me notations.”

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“Him?” You squinted and tilted your head; your intuition was screaming that something was so damn wrong.

“Bateman,” with a sly smile, Bryce put the cigarette out in a glass ashtray; his glance was eloquent but you never really managed to read it. “I bet he will be upset. Very upset.”

“Bryce ” you rolled your eyes. ‘Is he lying or…?’ That question remained unspoken. “Leave these cheesy jabs to yourself, okay?”

Tim only laughed at your weak attempt to threaten him and stood up from the table. “You know, I saw him with Jean in Arcadia last night…” Now this information could come in handy… “I think they had some kind of date or something, huh,” he chuckled again and fixed his tie, giving the picture on the opposite wall a scrutinizing glance. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but something is definitely happening. In my opinion, you should tell him about your…unexpecting leaving, you know.”

Before you could respond, Timothy Bryce looked at you one last time and left the meeting room. Now, you were left alone but not really alone as the weight of the newfound information lay on your shoulders like two massive dumbbells. ‘If everything is too obvious for Bryce, what other things might the others think about me and Bateman?’ That was a rhetorical question mostly, but still you couldn’t even get up from the chair, sensing the strange, chilling fear inside your chest—what if you were mistaken with accepting the offer of a new job?

Gritting your teeth, you snarled and almost kicked the table from beneath, your palms were clenching and unclenching, thankfully no one could see you like this. Swiftly but nervously, you finally stood up and headed out from the meeting room, striving to avoid any of your soon-to-be-ex colleagues on your way to Bateman’s office.

How many times have you rehearsed the words you were going to say while you were walking up there? Countless. But still, when you entered Patrick's office and saw his lovely secretary, everything inside you froze - words, emotions, even your breath.

“Hi, Jean,” you mumbled, with a half-smile on your slightly tensed face. “Looking good.”

“Uh, thank you,” the blonde woman replied and fixed the stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

As soon as you heard the echo of Patrick's voice through the office door, a lump formed in your throat and you had to cough several times because of the unpleasant dryness.

“Well,” you paused and glanced at the closed door with a nameplate ‘Patrick Bateman’ on it. “You would help me a lot if you let me have a private conversation with your boss.”

“Patrick is,” her voice suddenly wavered, implying that something was wrong. “He’s busy right now.”

“Oh,” you stepped back involuntarily. “Okay, I can come later.”

“No,” Jean replied curtly. “I’m sorry, but today is not an option at all.”

‘Is that some kind of joke?’ You hummed to yourself, already regretting coming here in the first place. “All right then. Have a nice day, Jean.” Turning around you already stepped out from the office when you head her voice:

“(Y/n), wait. Oh, I hope I pronounced your name correctly.” She blushed once you came back inside. “I think I can tell him about your visit, when he will be less busy.”

That offer was not something you would expect. “Actually, that would be nice,” you clicked on your tongue, considering your next steps. “Tell him that I have a reservation at Dorsia at eight o’clock–”

“Today?” Her question cut off your bluffing. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

You just grinned politely in return. “Yep, today. Tell him…that I need to talk with him about business and stuff. And, that it would be probably the last chance for him to catch up with me.” Jean’s eyes widened for a moment, but you reassured her instantly. “No drama, just changing my job.”

“Uh, that was probably a tough decision?”

“Not really,” you winked at her and crossed your arms over the chest. “But don’t tell him about that, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She tried to hide her confusion behind a warm smile but failed. “I’ll tell him that you will be waiting for him at Dorsia tonight and that this conversation is very important.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed and for a moment just stood there, looking at the closed office door. “Thank you, darling. For everything.”

You made a special accent on the word ‘darling’, purposely embarrassing her and leaving no room for any questions and other stuff that would make a current situation even more fucked up.

After you left Bateman’s office you had to find Allen as only half of what you told Jean was actually bluffing—you knew that Paul had a reservation at Dorsia tonight, considering he was inviting you for dinner. Allen’s strange interest in you wasn’t your top priority at that moment but using it for your sake was something you couldn’t deny at such a situation. So when you finally found Paul in one of the meeting rooms, you persuaded him to give you that reservation, explaining that you wanted to show one of your colleagues Dorsia before you would leave New York and move to Chicago. And even though everyone would find out that that colleague was Patrick Bateman, you wouldn't’ care since you would be far away from here.

A few hours later, the melodious voice of Whitney Houston reverberated off the walls of the opulent living room in Bateman's apartment, the lyrics of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody," which Patrick knew perfectly, striking a chord in his chest every time the song came on.

But today everything was different.

Everything, except some random blonde bimbo who was on her knees between Bateman’s spread legs, sucking his thick cock but not actually giving him any pleasure. Frustrated, the man tugged on her hair without any compassion, bringing her closer, so her nose was almost brushing against his hairy pubis. But almost immediately, the woman began to whimper and claw at the perfect skin of his hips, and he didn't like it.

“What? Already tired?” Bateman sneered and fixated the blonde’s head in one place for a moment by her neck. “Or is that your first time? Then, I’m so fucking honored!"

As soon as the man let the blonde go, she pushed him away and sat back on her ass, breathing heavily. “Are you crazy?” the bimbo inquired and pressed a hand to her half-exposed breasts, her whole appearance looked messy. “I was about…t-to choke on your fucking dick!”

Sighing, Bateman rolled his eyes and just stretched out on the couch, lazily stroking his half-hard shaft. "So, this is your first time?" The woman hesitated to answer, which only made Patrick mock her even more. "Did you tell me that you have a boyfriend? And he works at P&P, right?"

Wiping her mouth with undisguised contempt, the blonde started to get up, but Patrick stepped on the hem of her dress and she almost fell. "Marcus! Stop it!"

"Uh, look at you," the man chuckled, watching her feeble attempts to get up. "Such a pathetic little bitch, pathetic and greedy," the man added, giggling. "Ready to give head to every vice president at Pierce & Pierce! Your boyfriend should be so proud of you."

The woman was on the verge of tears when Bateman finally allowed her to get up and collect her things. She had been in such a hurry that she had left her panties on the glass coffee table. All this gave Patrick much more pleasure than the blonde's inexperienced blowjob.

"Ask your boyfriend to teach you how to suck dicks," he blurted out as the woman rushed into the hallway, rifling through her purse looking for something. "Since he's probably a pro at that sort of thing."

But the girl was already gone. So the man could only laugh to himself, so proud of his cheeky jabs, if only he didn't feel like a schoolboy dreading his upcoming meeting with his teacher. With a heavy sigh, Bateman closed his eyes for a second, his cock was already soft, but his sac were still tense and full of his cum; he felt too unsatisfied with himself, which only made things worse.

What was it even for?

The man could just take some coke, lie down on his bed, close his eyes and think of you—that was enough for him to cum so hard that he had to go to the laundry almost every day because he ran out of sheets. But today was different, considering that Patrick was going to meet you, and not just anywhere, but in fucking Dorsia. It seemed that everyone in this town could get a res there, but not him.

Biting his lower lip, the man looked down at the throbbing cock in his hand - the mere thought of you was making him horny as hell. "Shit…" If only he could reboot his memory and get rid of that scene in the Tunnel. If only. Meanwhile, the Whitney Houston tape continued to play the song "Where Do Broken Hearts Go". Bateman doubted he would be able to masturbate, he was too nervous and stressed out, even imagining you while that bitch was giving him head didn't work. Although it usually did. "Dorsia, huh," the man giggled nervously and checked his Rolex - he still had plenty of time. As if spellbound, Patrick slid to the floor and kicked off his leather shoes, his red tie already loosened and his pants hiked down. Leaning against the couch, Bateman threw his head back and began to jack off, recalling the forbidden, sinful sensations of your hand sliding along his hot flesh. "Mmm-fuck," he moaned and shivered, his free hand already gripping the edge of the white couch, several beads of sweat running down his tense temples. What if today he finally found the courage to confess? Confess that all these days had been a fucking torture for him, that he was ready to crawl on the walls from how much he longed for you, not even physically, but mentally. Maybe, just maybe, your reassurance that everything was not over for him, that maybe he still had a chance to have some normalcy in this cruel world—could change everything?

"Fuck, f-fuck!" Patrick cursed, sensing that his impending orgasm was slipping away from him just by reflecting on the things that were happening between the two of you. Jerking off and thinking about your sexy voice, your hot body and your cheeky smile was one thing, it always turned him on better than anything else, but thinking about the complexity of your relationship… that was not a turn-on for him. Not at all. Cursing to himself, Patrick slicked back his auburn hair and quickly got up to stagger to the bathroom, where he nervously opened the cabinet behind the mirror and found a small white jar of pills. Xanax was his only stress reliever so far. Taking a deep, almost desperate breath, Bateman looked at his reflection, his bloodshot eyes full of tears that threatened to cascade down like a waterfall. "This is not an exit." Patrick told his reflection, but opened the jar anyway and took a handful of pills. Frustrated, unsatisfied, he didn't know how he was going to survive dinner with you, and Dorsia was the last thing on his mind. "Because I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared."

Luckily, the marble walls of his bathroom were the only witnesses to his downfall.

Dawn came to New York faster than you could imagine. All the way to Dorsia you were nervous, but still confident in the plan you had made earlier that day. Even though you had failed in your previous attempt to dot the T's at the Tunnel, today would be different, you were sure of it. ‘I don't even know why, though,’ you chuckled to yourself, and the taxi driver gave you a concerned glance, but you just shrugged it off, signaling him to concentrate on the road.

In the restaurant everything looked the same as when you were here with Paul Allen, but this time you were not the one who was invited, but the one who invited another person—named Patrick Bateman—and speaking of whom, was late and that made you quite anxious. ‘What if he just doesn’t come?’ This thought made you fidget in the chair, your hands fumbling with the napkin on your knees and after telling the waiter for the second time that you were expecting someone else to come, your fingers became cold as if they were frozen.

“Maybe I can bring you some drinks?” The waiter didn’t give up, spurring you to order at least something to drink.

Quickly running a hand across your strained face, you exhaled loudly and nodded. “Yeah, drinks,” you stummered when you looked past the waiter, noticing the familiar elegant silhouette coming close to your table. “Can you…bring…some water?”

Confused, the waiter glanced down at the full glass of water next to you. “Uh, more water?”

“(Y/n),” Bateman’s voice echoed across the space. “I hope I didn't make you wait for so long,” he chuckled and took a seat at the table. “Had some important business affairs.” The moment he noticed the confused waiter, Patrick gave him his most sassy smile and checked his Rolex for no reason, probably just to show them out. “Can you please bring me a glass of J&B and some fresh salad to your taste.”

‘A salad, really?’ You almost snickered, but instead your face turned into a neutral expression. "Business, huh?"

Bateman rested more comfortably in his chair after the waiter finally left. "You know, some affairs with blonde hair and long legs, big tits and an amazing ass."

That came out of nowhere.

Still calm, you watched the man across from you smile, surely proud of himself and so damn bossy it was almost absurd. "You mean someone in particular, don't you?"

“Oh, yeah,” Patrick put his both elbows on the table, clasping his hands, revealing his gold Rolex once again. “Her name is Stephany, if I’m not mistaken, she’s a girlfriend of one of our accountants,” the man paused before snickering. “That one who makes monthly reports, you know him. So, I’m a bit late because I couldn't leave such a lovely girl without a treat she deserved.”

Right now, you didn't care if it was true or not—his well-framed—confidence was something you found very interesting and even amusing, as it was proof that he was preparing for this dinner just like you were.

"And that's when I thought vice presidents actually worked at Pierce & Pierce." With a slight grin, you joked and finally took a sip of water, feeling your throat suddenly go dry, just like when you were talking to Jean earlier.

Bateman's sudden laugh rang out like shattered glass. "'C'mon, (y/n), don't pretend you don't know that-"

"I know that your father owns almost half of the company," you interrupted him abruptly, and he wasn't happy about it. "And that gives you certain privileges."

"Don't be envious. It doesn't suit you."

"Envious?" You set the glass of water aside. "I think it was me who invited you here so that you could finally visit Dorsia… at least once."

The air between the two of you was thick with venom and something even more poisonous. Nevertheless, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't think Bateman was acting like the jerk he undoubtedly was. But, to be honest, you expected him to act a little less smug.

"I still think this place is overrated," Patrick hissed through clenched teeth right as the waiter brought him his whiskey and salad with sliced vegetables and some cheese, which he didn't even touch, taking a big gulp of his drink. "So, uh, Jean told me you wanted to talk to me about something important. What is it?"

The waiter didn't even try to offer to check the menu again and retreated, but he would definitely come back later with the same request, since you hadn't ordered anything yet.

"Well, it doesn't seem to matter anymore," you suddenly declared, crumpling the paper napkin before dropping it on the finest tablecloth. "The thing is—I'm quitting P&P and moving to Chicago. That's it. Nothing special, really."

The moment of silence washed over them both like a tidal wave. Visibly shocked, Bateman just sat there, then nervously straightened his tie and looked around as if to call for help. 'Not so ballsy anymore, Patty?' There was something about the way he was humiliated, something that stirred a burning flame in your gut that came dangerously close to burning you alive from the inside. And again, you would be lying to yourself if you pretended you could control it.

"Chicago?" Patrick repeated as if he hadn't heard correctly.

"Why do both you and Bryce react as if Chicago were a desert island?"

"Heh," Bateman rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his chair. "So Bryce knows everything. Why am I not surprised?"

"I'd tell you more," that was the moment you'd been waiting for so long—the moment of his vulnerability, and you couldn't stop yourself like a shark who sensed blood in the water. "Paul Allen was the one who actually recommended this job to me."

Patrick's jaw clenched at the mention of Paul Allen. "Really?"

"Yes," you continued to corner him. "One day we were having dinner, here, in Dorsia," you grinned, catching every little change in Bateman's no longer confident face. "He said one of his buddies was starting a new company, and they were looking for specialists… like me."

"Well," he began, sliding his hand across the table's surface as if to calm down. "Good for you, (y/n). Congratulations!" That was the most fake 'congratulations' you ever heard, even though you were expecting a slightly different reaction. "But I don't understand. Why didn't you talk to me before? Before you made your decision."

This question almost made you choke. 'Did he really say that?' And just as you were about to answer, the waiter came across the table again, choosing the perfect moment. Before he could offer to check the menu, you raised your hand in an irritating gesture. "Bring me a vodka and orange juice," Patrick's eyebrows arched almost immediately. "Double vodka, please."

"Yes, s-sure." The waiter stuttered before taking the crumpled napkin and walking away, very stressed.

Without giving yourself time to think, you leaned against the table and muttered. "Why should I? We are not friends."

"Of course not," Bateman scowled, crossing his arms over his broad chest, the black pinstriped suit outlining his physique perfectly. "Not after you gave me a decent handjob in the Tunnel bathrooms."

Patrick caught you off guard by injecting this argument so blatantly into the conversation. "Decent? It was fucking amazing." You growled and quickly turned around to see if anyone was paying attention to your table, and when you were sure there was nothing to worry about, you faced Patrick again. "Too amazing, considering you seem to be thinking about it all the time."

"W-what? I… I didn't…"

Sneering, you tapped your fingers on the table in nervous anticipation of your drinks, even though you hadn't planned on drinking any alcohol, wanting to keep yourself as sober as possible for the dinner and everything that might or might not happen afterwards.

"Relax, Bateman," you rested your chin on your clasped hands, finally allowing yourself to examine his handsome appearance, including the way his cheeks were tinged with a red hue. "You've said too much already."

And from that moment on, you began to feel relaxed, even pleased with all the things Patrick revealed to you, accidentally or not, you would use every little detail to your own advantage when the time came.

A little later, when the waiter finally brought your cocktail, you finished it too quickly, so you asked for it to be repeated under the attentive hazel eyes of the man sitting on the other side of the table. The more drunk you got, the more topics you discussed, but when you mentioned Paul Allen again, you noticed that Patrick's good mood was fading.

"Wait a minute!" You held out a hand to stop him from jumping from one topic to another. "Can you tell me why the mere mention of Paul Allen triggers you so much? Is there something between you two?"

Bateman couldn't hold back a loud, hearty laugh. "That joke's too tasteless even for Bryce," he finished his whiskey, the salad still untouched on the table in front of him. "Allen…he's…not the person he tries to pretend to be."

"Oh?"

"I think he's part of that Yale thing."

You narrowed your eyes and leaned in closer. "Yale thing? What do you mean?"

Patrick quickly licked his lips, not expecting you to delve further into the subject. "Well, I think he's probably a closeted homosexual who likes to do a lot of coke and have orgies with male hookers."

At first you just giggled out loud, not caring that some people were looking at you, but then your face suddenly became serious. "How do you know about that? Did he tell you or…" you smiled playfully. "Did he do something… that made you think so," you bit your lower lip and drank the last drop of your cocktail with unabashed thirst. "That sounds strange…very strange."

"You're drunk, (y/n)," Bateman murmured, tilting his hand as if thinking about something. "Too drunk, which gives me the impression that you're as much of an amateur at drinking as you are at doing coke."

"Uh, s-shut up."

"See? Can't even speak words."

"Maybe...maybe I am drunk, now what? Are you gonna be a fucking gentleman like you always try to be and offer me a ride? Or maybe," you fixed your hair nonchalantly, your vision slightly blurred. "Would you be brave enough to show me your apartment?"

As soon as those words came out of your mouth, you knew there was no turning back, and your inner voice, which usually kept you from doing shit you would regret, seemed to fall asleep from the high level of alcohol in your system.

The man across from you straightened up at your bold suggestion, reading the subtext with ease. "Is that what you want? For me to take you to my place?"

His question hung in the air for a moment before you managed to come up with an answer, but you didn't know how to get out of this situation and turn it into a joke, as you usually did. Maybe you just didn't want to get out of it? Just like you didn't want to let him go when he helped you get up from the table after he'd paid for dinner and the two of you were in a cab. Not to mention when you almost fell down and the man caught you in his arms, but there was still a barrier between the two of you—an invisible wall—the only line that kept you apart. The line that was too dangerous to cross, but too tempting not to think about what lay behind it.

By the time the cab pulled up at the American Gardens Building, you were half asleep on Bateman's shoulder, his Lancome cologne not helping at all, making your mind even more cloudy. But you did your best to get out of the car without his help, letting the cool fresh air bring you some relief and clarity.

In the elevator, Patrick began to mumble about his musical preferences, but you didn't really pay attention because your brain was overworked trying to come up with a plan B in case things went too far. 'As if they hadn't gone too far already,' your inner voice suddenly tried to break through the thick layers of alcohol, affection and uncontrollable desire.

Bateman's apartment looked exactly as you had imagined—opulent, stylish, and very minimalist. Everything seemed to be in its place, including you, standing next to the tall window in his living room.

"Not a bad view," you admitted, taking off the jacket of your suit. "Not Central Park, but not bad at all."

"Central Park?" Patrick asked, hiding in the kitchen, which was perfectly connected to the living room, but you couldn't see him behind the wall as he examined the large number of different kitchen knives.

"Yeah, you know, Paul Allen's apartment faces Central Park, looks really fancy," you didn't mean to hurt Bateman's feelings, but the moment you turned around and saw him, it was obvious that your words had reached him. "But, I really prefer your place...it's more modern for my taste."

Puzzled, Patrick didn't hurry to join you in the living room, his thin fingers never ceasing to slide up and down the sharp blade in his hand, but at the very last moment, the man put the knife back in its place. With deliberate steps, he walked out of the kitchen and approached his stereo system.

"Really?" He asked in disbelief, as if his life depended on your answer.

Such a reaction from him was oddly appealing, the vulnerability, the desperation in his brown eyes. This was a level of satisfaction that no drug could ever match. Meanwhile, Bateman turned on the music, the charming voice of Phil Collins filling the room as "Invisible Touch" began to play.

The man was examining the tape in his hands when you slowly approached and gently cupped his face, inducing him to look at you. "Yes, I do," you confirmed your previous words, and when Patrick didn't flinch from your touch, you decided to go on, tracing your finger along his sensual lips, fighting the urge to kiss them here and now. "Speaking of preferences," you removed your hand only to place it on the lapel of his suit. "Would you be a good boy and give me a full tour of your apartment, including the bedroom?"

In any other situation, you would probably die from shame at saying something like that, but not now. Not with him, because no sooner had your question escaped your lips than you noticed that his hands were shaking, and the CD was about to fall out of them, so you had to gently grab it and pull it out of his hands. Bateman reminded you of a man struggling with addiction, every twitch of his plump lips, every furrow of his perfect eyebrows spoke volumes about the undeniable affection between the two of you, an affection you were both too exhausted to fight and hide.

Without further ado, you placed the CD on top of the stereo and pressed Patrick against the nearest wall, holding the lapels of his Valentino suit and sealing his hot mouth with yours, opening it wider with your tongue, so eager to taste him again after such a long wait.

"Mmhm," he purred into the kiss, his hands desperately wrapped around your waist, then going lower to cradle your hips, groping and squeezing a little too hard so that you had to bite his lip to make him stop, but the man just growled and pushed you closer, your groins rubbing against each other in the most lewd way possible. "Bedroom...go to the bedroom...and wait for me there."

Bateman's words right after the kiss sounded like nonsense, which you found oddly arousing. With a foxy smile, you licked his cheek, then his neck, almost biting the artery and sucking on the reading mark. "No, no, no, Bateman," you shook your head, grabbing his neck slightly to kiss him again, but he did it first. Even now Patrick was trying to take the lead, your tongues fighting for control like two snakes entwining around each other. "I'm in no mood for games or waiting."

The moment you said it, Bateman lifted you with practiced ease as if you weighed nothing, and you didn't even have a chance to protest as he began to move toward the closed room behind his white couch. In his arms, you finally felt complete, even if you let him take the lead for a while. Noticing the pair of panties on the glass coffee table, you wrapped your legs around him and buried your fingers in his silky hair, ruffling them and letting them fall on his forehead, making him look even hotter.

Jesus, you were on the verge of an explosion just from the foreplay alone.

Bateman's bedroom greeted you with stark white walls, the brightness of which was almost painful to look at as he turned on the light holding you with one arm, and the king-size bed on which he carefully placed you, but you didn't let him pull away, tugging at his tie and forcing him to lay on top of you.

"Fuck, look at you," Patrick grazed your earlobe before massaging your chest through your shirt and hovering over you. "So insatiable, aren't you? Running in circles like a trapped kitten."

Growling, you pulled him closer again to suck on his lower lip, letting your body rub against his so you could feel how hard he was, so painfully hard, considering the sound he made when you snaked your hand between his legs to cradle his bulge. "Are you gonna cum in your pants if I don't stop?"

With a determined persistence, you continued to massage his hard cock through the layers of his expensive clothes as you removed his jacket and then his suspenders, one by one. Bateman didn't interfere as he was also busy getting rid of your clothes without actually tearing them apart.

"Let me," you insisted as soon as you noticed him struggling to unbutton your shirt. "This is my favorite shirt, you know," you gasped, your own fingers trembling, making it difficult even for you to finally remove your shirt. "I don't want it to get torn."

When you finally got rid of the top part of your clothes, the sight of your exposed skin made Patrick grunt in hunger, and the next second the man was already sucking on your nipple, his muscular frame shaking on top of you from your teasing ministrations on his twitching dick and hard balls. Damn, you wanted to suck him dry as much as you wanted to ruin him until he forgot his own name.

"Don't like it anyway," Bateman muttered suddenly, holding your hands above your head. "You need to go to some... fashion shows... maybe you will have more free time in Chicago, considering Paul Allen offered you this job. I'm sure it would be some boring shit."

‘Good Lord, he mentioned him again…’ You rolled your eyes and turned away from his face, eliciting a low rumble from Patrick's massive chest. "What the fuck is wrong with Paul... are you... jealous of him or something?"

"Me?" he asked, confused and you took the opportunity to release your hands and roll over so that you were now on top of him. "I'm not the one bragging about having dinner with him in fucking Dorsia!"

Bateman sounded like a little boy who was upset that no one wanted to play with him, which made you giggle, but then you straddled him and opened his white shirt and removed his tie.

"The more you talk," you murmured as you ran your hands along the smooth skin of his torso, paying special attention to his toned pecs and abs. "The more you make me think you two had a history," you leaned down to teasingly lick his lips, your sneaky hands already working on the zipper of his pants. "But still, I don't care." In one swift motion, you pulled down his pants along with his boxers, watching his thick cock pop out, yearning for your attention. "Mhmm, the last time we were alone you worked me up really good, I wanna return the favor," your hands wrapped around the base of his beefy shaft, the small droplets of his pre-cum already covering its tip, forcing you to lick your lips in hunger. "If you have nothing else on your mind?"

Did you really care about his feelings since you asked him that question?

The man beneath you was definitely growing impatient, his hands gripping your hips as if he was about to imprint his fingerprints on your skin if you were not wearing your pants.

"Lie on your side," Bateman suggested suddenly. "Take off all your clothes and lie down here," he tapped the spot next to him and you stood up quickly, as if he had cast a spell on you. Never in your life did you get rid of your clothes faster than now. "Uh, what a cute ass you have, (y/n)."

You frowned at his words, giving him your dead stare as you slipped out of your underwear, giving him the full view—the glint in his hazel eyes was too much to ignore—so you turned around and presented yourself to him; Bateman couldn't help but lazily stroked himself, putting a hand under his head.

"Tell me, Bateman," you began, your hands slowly sliding down your bare skin. "Have you been thinking about me all this time?" You cupped your ass, bending over a little so he could see the spot right between your legs. "Or have you found a way to forget things you don't want to remember?"

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a second. "I wish there was a way to forget." Patrick murmured and watched as you lay on your side in the 69 position, then he did the same, his hot breath scorching the soft flesh between your thighs.

You wrapped your hands around his hips and eagerly took his drooling dick in your mouth, while he was lapping at your crotch. "Mm-fuck," you jerked against his face, your fingers digging deeper into his skin as Bateman feasted on you like the most delicious meal. "Me too, Bateman, m-me too."

Having said that, you swirled your tongue around the swollen tip of his veiny cock, causing a muffled moan to erupt from his mouth, its vibration sending shivers down the base of your spine, only spurring you on to go further, pushing his dick deeper into your mouth. Soon the room was filled with the soft, wet sounds of your shared oral pleasure, punctuated by soft but powerful moans and groans as you both teetered on the edge of ecstasy. Gripping your ass, Bateman responded to your actions with the same passion, devouring every drop of your flavor and giving you no chance to escape, his strong arms like ropes around your body. After giving his cock the attention it deserved, you decided to tease his heavy balls with light lapping on them, before slipping a finger inside his tight ass, you expected him to protest but instead you heard him moan and the next moment his hips began to move towards your penetrating movements.

"Good boy," you praised him, rolling your eyes at the way the man was sucking on your most sensitive spot. "Taking my finger so well..."

The coil in your lower abdomen was about to snap at any moment, but you still wanted more, you wanted to feel that cock inside you, even if it was going to rip you a apart. Breathlessly, you didn't even remember asking him about condoms, and how you managed to get out of bed and go to the closet, where you found a little box Bateman was talking about—its contents almost made you gasp in awe, so you decided to take it with you.

"Well, well," you crooned as you stepped back into the bedroom. "Should I ask you what this is or are you going to tell me?"

With a wide grin, you held out a large purple dildo, Patrick's eyes twitched and he gulped, leaning on his elbows. "I... I use it with hookers," the man confessed, licking his glistening lips covered with your juices. "Why?"

"Hmmm, you like watching women play with it?" You asked as you reached the bed. "How about actually using it and not just watching?"

Damn, you could swear you saw his breath catch in his throat, his muscles tense and his dick throbbing just at the mention of using that sex toy on him. 'So he likes that idea, what a naughty boy,' you chuckled to yourself and took your place on the bed next to him. "This is going to feel so good, baby," you brought the dildo to his lips, suggesting that he lick it for lubrication, and when he did, you could barely keep yourself from cumming, just from the sight of his tongue flicking around the tip of the silicone sex toy. "Get on your knees and let me take care of you."

"Fuck," Bateman cursed, but it was too late to turn back. Embarrassed but extremely aroused, the man got down on all fours and gave you full access to his firm ass, which you immediately fondled, spreading his buttocks and biting them one by one. "Mmh-hmm, (y/n)."

"Relax," you stroked his hips, kissing the lower part of his back just above the dimples that were too sexy to ignore. "God, you have such a beautiful body," you decided to praise him, knowing the effect it would have on him. "I would worship it forever if I could," which was only half true, or maybe...it was not. Leisurely, you showered his soft skin with little peaks here and there, dotting it with your marks of love, not even realizing that you were giving all of yourself to the process.

As you pressed the tip of the dildo against his puckered muscle ring, Patrick tensed at your touch, gripping the sheets and closing his eyes, so overwhelmed and confused at the same time, but your reassuring hand on his trembling one encouraged him to look back at you as you hovered over him to kiss his lips, his neck, his shoulder.

"(Y/n)," Bateman suddenly huffed through his clenched teeth. "I want you to..." he gasped as you flickered your wet finger around his tight asshole. "...fuck."

"You want me to feast on that delicious ass of yours?" You finished the sentence for him, grinning in pure gratification at his complete submission. "Is that what you want?"

"Yeah, y-yes," he grasped the sheets and positioned himself more comfortably on all fours— a clear sign that he was not used to this position and you couldn't miss it. "I want to feel your tongue... all over me."

"Shit, Bateman, you're a real sweet talker." With that you put the dildo on the bed next to you and before you knew it you were spreading his ass cheeks wide open to make a flat lick along his tight hole. "I wanna hear you," you gently but insistently probed his ass with your warm tongue, giving him several slaps on the buttocks that drove the man wild as you felt his velvet walls tighten around your tongue. "Good boy, c'mon, spread it out for me."

Blushing, Patrick used both hands to spread himself for your eager ministrations as you fucked him with your tongue while your hands traveled all around his hips before you wrapped one of them around his pulsating cock, fuck, he was so close, you could tell by the way his balls tensed when you gave them a slight squeeze.

"Don't cum until I let you," you commented and the next moment you were already pushing the sleek sex toy into his ass and this time he accepted it gradually, taking it in with ease—the sight made you gasp but you focused on giving him pleasure. "Tell me, Bateman, how does it feel?"

The question remained unanswered for a brief moment as you began to slid the dildo in and out, stimulating his prostate and causing him to shake and whimper in pure bliss, but when you decided to add fuel to the fire by jerking him off and sucking on his strained sac, Patrick could barely contain himself, his legs about to give way at any moment.

"F-fuck, a-aahhh, mmhhmm," he murmured into the pillow, his hands finding their way to your messy hair, gripping them almost to the point of pain. "I...c-can't...hold...it any longer," Bateman's wailing bounced off the walls of his luxurious bedroom, which had never seen anything like it before. "I..."

Though you wanted him to last longer, you were too overwhelmed yourself, feeling the string in your belly ready to burst. "Let it go," your words were like a balm to his ears as, just a moment later, his cock pulsed in your grasp, spraying loads of his thick cum across the Chinese sheets that Patrick had always been so fond of. "That's it…" You didn't stop fucking him with a dildo, nor did you stop pumping his throbbing dick, milking it until the last drop of his seed. "Good boy, you're such a good boy."

Panting, you pulled out the sex toy, covered in his slick, and brought it to his trembling lips, inducing him to suck it before taking it into your mouth, feeling the mixture of tastes on the tip of your tongue. Then, Bateman rolled onto his back, desperately gasping for air, his cock still hard. That was fucking phenomenal, but you didn't comment, thinking about your own orgasm at last. Locking your eyes with Patrick's hazel ones, you touched yourself the moment he beckoned you over, and without words, you mounted his flushed, sweaty face, riding it as desperately as you could, using his tongue and lips without shame. Tilting your head back, you grabbed his head and almost clawed at his scalp, feeling your insides about to fucking explode from the tension. So when you peaked, your scream could be heard all over Bateman's apartment. The orgasms you had before were nothing compared to this. It took everything from you, it made you die and rise again.

The final chord of the parade of shameless lust was when you let him fuck you in a way you didn't even expect. Spooning you from behind after he put the condom on, the man lifted your leg and sheathed himself inside of you till the hilt, making you feel so full you had to wrinkle the fabric underneath, but that was just the beginning as Bateman pulled you closer, trapping you in his arms like a cocoon, his tongue sliding around your ear shell with undisguised affection,

"Mmhmm, fuck, you're...so perfect," the man whispered into your ear, setting up the pace and resting his hand between your legs for extra stimulation. "Holy fuck! I'm cumming again, omh-shit..."

"Fuck m-me, yeah, just...l-like that...a-ahhh," you coaxed him to fuck you harder as you suddenly found yourself on the verge of climaxing again. "Gimme everything, baby, a-awww...goshhhhhhhh," you were the first to fall over the principle of pleasure, twitching along his body as if you were hit by the electric shock, all your nerves were on fire. "Bateman, mmhm-fuck-fuck! Your dick feels s-so good.."

Your vivid orgasm became the last straw for his second release as you felt him bite at your neck, his buffed frame shaking in spasms of pure rapture, you even had to hold back a scream from how painfully Patrick's hands squeezed your hips, but it was pleasurable pain of being ruined, of being fucked into a wet mess. Barely breathing, you didn't even remember how you passed out from exhaustion and for the first time in the last few days you fell asleep completely satisfied and happy.

When the first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds into Bateman's bedroom, you were already awake, as was he, but since you were lying with your back to his face, you didn't notice until the man kissed your shoulder, snuggled up against your neck, and made you roll over to face him.

As you did so, you dared to look directly into the brown eyes still clouded by the aftermath of your shared pleasure. "Hey." He muttered in a husky voice.

"Hey," you murmured back, hugging the pillow. "Did you sleep well?"

“Surprisingly—yes," the man stretched his arms, flexing his muscles and checking himself in the mirror on the other side of the room, which you hadn't even noticed. "(Y/n), I want you to go to the office and tell everyone that you're not going anywhere."

Shocked, you blinked several times, not knowing what to say as you hadn't expected anything like this.

With a nervous chuckle that turned into a hearty laugh, you rolled onto your back before sitting up on the bed. "Oh God, you're such a little Delulu, it's even funny," you looked at him—his face was nothing but a blank space without any visible emotions. "Did you really think that random sex would change my mind about changing jobs?" You chuckled again, louder this time. "I mean, the sex was really good, but... it's not like I'm going to give everything for this, you know?" With that, you got up from the bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself. "Can I take a shower?”

Trapped in the thought that only he could know, Patrick rolled onto his back, his eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the ceiling above him. "Yes," he murmured, barely audible. "Do whatever you want."

Walking towards the bathroom, you suddenly stopped and turned half around. "You better forget it," you said, savoring every word and finally returning the favor. "Maybe ask Paul Allen for advice," you grinned as you watched Bateman close his eyes in a feeble attempt to distance himself from everything that had happened. "Maybe he knows something about memory reboot machines that can help."

Without waiting for his answer, you continued on your way to the bathroom. Even though you were pleased with yourself, your revenge didn't taste sweet, but bitter, and its bitterness would remain on the tip of your tongue even after you washed yourself clean under the hot streams of water.

But the game was worth the candle, as they said.

Was it?

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines #patrick bateman x male reader #gn reader

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starlightxsvt · 7 months

Text

Beautiful Liar | part of the Treacherous Tales Series

pairing ➳ dk x fem!reader

genre ➳ mafia au, dark romance? angst, smut.

wc ➳ 16.8k

synopsis ➳ you have old scores to settle and he's a pretty pawn in your game. but one must remember obsession leads to destruction.

warnings ➳ violence, mentions of mafia, murder, kidnapping & suicide, stalking, breaking and entering, manipulation, gambling, mention of rape, protected sex, teasing, male oral.

playlist ➳ beautiful liar- monsta x, vigilante shit- taylor swift, part goddess part gangster- madalen duke, horns-bryce fox, don't blame me- taylor swift, no body no crime- taylor swift, the hills- the weekend.

"I need him."

Your words dissipate into the cool air inside the car as your gaze remains focused out your window, trained on one certain man.

"What do you need me to do?" Changkyun immediately asks with violence underlying in his tone. You click your tongue in disapproval, not letting your eyes stray from your pretty prey. "You won't be doing anything this time. He is mine."

The man sitting in the driver's seat next to you only grunts in reply.

Through the passenger side window, you keep observing him, as the man smiles and talks to some students before taking his leave, walking inside another building as he disappears from your sight, making you sigh.

"Okay. You actually do need to do something."

"What?"

"Get me his schedule."

Theatre and drama were never your thing. Yet, here you sit, in Professor Lee's class as he talks about the history of theatre.

While the lecture itself is boring and definitely not worth the trouble you went through to sneak into his class as you are not a student, the man himself is pleasing to listen to and look at.

There is something boyish and innocent about him and as you watch him give the lecture, his voice so sweet and soothing that it is almost impossible to believe that he is related to the Lee family.

The two-hour lecture is surprisingly quick to pass by as you sit at the very back of the classroom, watching him carefully. With the clock striking 2 pm, the lecture finishes and students clear out of the classroom, leaving you behind who sits immobile in her place.

That manages to capture Professor Lee's attention. He takes off his reading glasses and tilts his head to look at you, blinking as if he's trying to remember you from somewhere.

With an amused smile playing on your lips, you stand up from your seat and strut to the podium slowly.

"Good afternoon, Professor." You greet, holding out a hand. He takes a look at your face and then your hand before softly shaking it. "Good afternoon. I don't think you are a student of mine."

Up close, the man looks dashing. Perfect sharp features; prominent cheekbones and a sharp nose, soft plump lips on his slightly tanned skin. Covered up to the neck with a white turtleneck underneath a black cashmere suit, he looks far from what he truly is.

So innocent, so deceitful.

You grin. "You are absolutely correct, Professor Lee. I am not."

He looks amused as well, raising a brow with the expectation that you are going to explain yourself.

"I am just a fan, you could say."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. I came across your presentation at the Royal Opera House this July. I have been a fan ever since."

"Well...I am pleased to hear that. I hope I have managed to inspire you in some way."

"Oh, you have. Plenty." You can't refrain from a grin.

"I am glad then." He pauses for a beat as he takes a look at his watch. "You'll have to excuse me now. I have a meeting soon."

"Of course. I just wanted to say hi. Have a nice day." You take a step back.

The man nods, giving you a small smile as he starts walking out of the classroom, his shoes clicking on the floor. He looks gorgeous even from behind, the afternoon sun streaming from the windows in the hallway casting around him in an angelic glow.

Just as he is about to fully exit the classroom, he stops and turns his head. "I didn't get your name, though. Where are you from?"

You can't help but smile diabolically. "From the wrong side of the tracks, professor."

Professor Lee has a pretty house, made up of a rustic brick structure and well furnished black tiles for the roof, a perfect blend of modern and old. The wooden fence around the perimeter of the house is not hard for you to cross as you make your way through his yard, careful not to step anywhere that would leave a trace.

The perfect time to break into his place is now, midday, as he is currently busy teaching a class. Changkyun is keeping an eye on him, camped outside the university, ready to inform you if his position changes as you take your time combing through his house.

The front of his house has a CCTV camera, which is precisely why you broke in through the back. Carefully crossing the yard, you tiptoe along the side of the house and turn right where there is a window. Making sure that you are in a blind spot, you pry the window open after a small struggle and gingerly make your way in like a sneaky cat.

His house is beautiful, exactly fitting his image. The floors are made of dark wood as well as most of the furniture; a dark yet soothing vibe emanating from his abode. The window you used to get in leaves you in a small hallway and after looking around a little, you get a general sense of direction.

Straight from the hallway, there is his bedroom which is where you head first. You are somewhat disappointed when you find it so sterile. The room, composed of a queen sized bed, a dresser and a closet is pristine. Everything is neat, not a hair out of place as if no one lives here. There is no decoration, no trace of personalization like a picture or a painting which you find odd because you expected something that would indicate his ties to his dear family.

Not letting the disappointment get to you, you walk out of the bedroom, heading for the closed door on the left; twisting the knob, you open the door to find his study and a smile spreads on your lips.

It's a fairly large room, the walls on both sides surrounded by large mahogany shelves containing books about art, literature and others. You carefully step in, heading straight for the large desk in the middle.

To your utter disappointment, it doesn't contain any schedule or indication about the life of crime that he comes from. There is not a single sign that would tell anyone that he is the younger brother of the notorious ruler of District 1.

Instead, aside from his computer on the desk, there are only a few books related to theatre on one side and a few lecture sheets on the other. It is so unexpected that you are stunned to silence, standing in the middle of the room, almost starting to think that you came to the wrong house.

Changkyun's sudden voice from the bluetooth disrupts your thoughts. "___, he is leaving early. He just got in his car. I'm following him. You have about 15 minutes to get out of there."

"Fine," you mutter.

There is still enough time. But by the looks of this, you could have all the time in the world and still not find anything that would tell you he's one of the heirs to District 1.

Grunting you lean down and start checking the drawers only to find nothing; no secret meeting location, nothing that you can use to blackmail him or anything that will lead you to the main culprit, his brother.

Sighing, you stand up straight and look around the room. Maybe he is being extra cautious and doesn't keep any evidence here. Maybe he has a secret hideout for his life of crime.

The idea, however, doesn't make sense because you have been stalking him and the only place he frequents is the university.

It's odd.

It almost feels like he doesn't have any connection with District 1.

No, no. That doesn't make any sense.

"___, you have 10 minutes!"

"I know, I know!" You snap, annoyed.

Walking over to the bookshelves you gently drag your fingers over the spine of each book, hoping maybe one of them would be the key to opening a secret room behind the shelves.

Nothing like that happens.

Accepting your defeat, you come out of the house but not before placing a bug underneath the table in his study with the hopes of getting some information by spying on him. Crossing the fence, you take special care to make sure you didn't leave behind any trace of entry before finally exiting the perimeter of the house.

Once safely out of the range of his house, you stand on the opposite side of the road and watch Professor Lee pull up a few minutes later. Changkyun's car follows him half a minute later as he drives straight to where you are standing, before coming to a stop in front of you.

You tug open the door and get in on the passenger side.

"Why the long face? Find nothing?"

"Shut up."

A change of plans is the only way.

Your second plan is to court him which isn't really a problem given the man is as pretty as a doll and toying with him would be absolute fun. With the decision set, you begin phase two of your operation, stalking him.

Well, you were stalking him before too but now, you start to follow every single footsteps of him, quite literally.

You follow him everywhere, discreetly, of course, getting to know his schedule as precisely as possible before striking.

His routine is rather bland, he wakes up, goes to work, then goes to the gym and then comes back home. It is something you find odd, once again. No matter from which angle you consider, the equation does not add up. Still, you try to make the best of whatever little ammunition you have at hand and pretend to bump into him randomly.

Like, one sunny afternoon you pretend to wait for someone in the parking lot of his university right when he is to leave for the day. Surprisingly, he's the first one to approach you, as he gently grabs your attention. "Hey. We uh, met the other day."

"Oh, hello, Professor Lee. Glad you remembered. One of your biggest fans."

"Have you enrolled here?"

"Ah, I wish. I'm here to...meet a friend's daughter."

"I see. What's her department?"

You blink, not expecting that question but recover quickly. "You ask too many questions professor. Let me ask you one instead. Can I have your number?"

You see the tips of his ears go red.

So adorable.

He blinks, taken aback as he searches for the right words. "Well, uh, why?"

"Why? You're hot and intelligent. I want to go out with you."

"Well, I don't think it's a good idea."

"Why?"

"Just because." He replies, almost unsure, looking at you as if you are a bizarre creature.

You take a step towards him, an amused smile on your face from his reaction. Leaning close to him, you slowly fix the lapels of his jacket. Perplexed, he looks at the motion of your hands before moving his gaze to your face.

"Please, professor? One date is all I ask." You give him puppy eyes.

There is a sharp inhale as his pupils widen just a little bit while you gaze into his eyes, unblinking. The proximity is intense, you can smell his perfume, feel his breath on your skin and from the way he keeps looking at you, there is an urge to kiss him building within you.

Just when you are sure you can sneak in a kiss, he breaks the moment by taking a step back, out of your reach. Clearing his throat, he says. "I can't. I have a girlfriend."

Liar.

Not waiting for your reply, he opens the door to his car and gets in. As his engine fires up with a hum, you walk near the vehicle and lean in to look at him through the half open window. "Don't lie professor. You don't have a girlfriend."

He looks at you silently for a moment, his hands resting on the steering wheel. "This is why I won't go out with you."

You are confused.

"You seem to know too much about me and I don't like that."

With that, he pulls out of the parking lot, leaving behind a trail of smoke and your baffled self.

It's fine.

You know you are on the right track. He is definitely attracted to you so it is not over yet. In fact, it is only the beginning.

This is going to be so much fun.

For the next week, you make it your mission to pop up in front of Seokmin while he is out and about. You first pretend to run into him at his favourite coffee shop, acting delighted when he notices you. He seems wary upon seeing you and since it was only the first day of your mission, you let him off easy, saying that this is fate telling that you two are meant to be.

The next time you pretend to run into him again at the car park of the university, once again announcing that you are waiting for your friend's daughter. He keeps the conversation short, simply by nodding and getting into his car rather hurriedly. You, however, don't forget to throw him a compliment, looking as innocent and genuine as possible; like an innocent young girl who has been rejected by her desired man and now longs for him from afar.

That seems to work a bit.

The lesser you speak and the more innocent your attitude becomes, the longer your encounters last. Seokmin would start initiating the conversation and then ask formal questions as if to keep the conversation going or maybe, to test you and see what your true intentions are.

Either way, you don't fall for that.

Instead, you act detached, like a damsel who failed to capture the eye of the man she loves.

Finally, one morning, when you are walking out of the coffee shop, he stops you on your way by extending his hand to touch your elbow softly. You have to hide your smile before turning around.

"You know, I never got to see the girl." He says.

"Which girl?"

"Your friend's daughter. The one you come to the university for."

Ah.

"Oh, you didn't?" You blink innocently. He looks at you for a beat, before giving you a knowing smile. "You know, I think we both know that that's a lie."

You avert your gaze, acting like you did not hear him.

"As much as you seem to be enjoying this, I need you to stop following me around." He says, voice soft but firm and you know it's a command.

It's a shame you don't take commands well.

Tilting your neck to a side, you pop a muscle before giving out a loud exhale, composing yourself. "Have a nice day, Mr Professor."

You walk away.

You were getting tired of playing around. The man may be attracted to you but you are coming to a realization that it will not be enough for him to give him. He is cautious and given who he really is, he will never let a woman like you get close to him, no matter how much he may like you.

"I told you, we should have just kidnapped him. His brother would show up immediately." Changkyun complains out loud. The two of you have been sitting in your study for the past hour, trying to come up with a plan.

"You know I don't work like that. It's too easy. And too risky."

You have a bad habit. You always end up getting emotionally involved in every case you encounter. This one should not be an exception. In fact, this is the best place to get emotional because his brother hurt you by hurting your family. It is only fair you do the same to him now. And along the way, you get to tease a pretty man like Professor Lee. It is a win-win situation for you, almost.

In your world, betrayal is the sweetest revenge. If you can betray Professor Lee after earning his trust, that will be the sweetest revenge.

"I don't give up so easily, you know," you whisper, planning your next move.

"No teacher needs that much muscles, professor!" Your voice echoes through the empty gym at night.

Dokyeom whips his head around, dropping the dumbbell that was in his hand, eyes wide at your sudden voice. "You! How did you get in here!" You don't appreciate his accusatory tone.

"I come to this gym as well." You shrug, strolling towards him with your hands behind your back before plopping down next to him on a bench. He gives you an exasperated look. "Really?"

"Mhmm." You smile.

"Liar. What do you want? I told you to stay away from me."

You shrug. " Mhmm, can't do that professor. I miss you."

His lips thin, a sign that he is clearly not amused by your antics but it's a shame. You find all of this way too amusing.

You find him amusing.

"I know you are after something else. I am not stupid, ___." He turns to face you properly, his eyes carefully watching you.

A soft smirk plays on your lips. Of course, he is not stupid. Heir to the Lee family, he is the farthest thing from stupid.

"Did you have someone look into me, professor?" You ask nonchalantly.

"Look into you? What is that supposed to mean?" He asks, leaning closer to you.

You're treading in dangerous territory. You cannot give yourself in so quickly.

"I mean a smart, famous man like you has a lovesick stalker. I'm sure you had a detective or someone take a look into me, no?"

More like an intelligence member of the mafia. Maybe even his dear brother.

"So you are admitting that you are a stalker?"

"Oh, not just any, though. A lovesick stalker." You blink innocently at him.

He remains silent making you wonder if he is buying your words.

"Since you are asking me what I want, I assume you asked around and couldn't find anything, then?" You tilt your head, tone playful as you continue the conversation. You are not going to leave today until you are successful.

After a moment, he admits. "Yes. You run on the wrong side of the tracks, that is all I could find."

You chuckle. "There is nothing else to find, professor. I'm just a bad girl infatuated with you and your words and your passion for art."

"You? I am not buying that."

"Me? What is that supposed to mean?" You feel a little offended. "Can a girl not be a gangster and love theatre? Not every one of us gets to chase our dreams, you know."

You see his eyes soften as he remains silent, pondering your words. You watch him, carefully leaning closer to him before dragging a manicured finger over his bicep flirtily.

"What do you want?" His voice comes out breathy this time, those deep pools of chocolate in his eyes boring into you and oh god, do you love your name on his lips.

It would be even better to hear him say that in bed.

"A date with you, professor." You whisper, inching your face closer to him, your lips a mere few inches away from his and you don't miss the way his gaze drops to them before coming back up to your eyes.

"And if I say no?" He swallows. You pout, snaking a hand over his chest, feeling the strong muscles beneath your palm, pleased that he lets you touch him. "Why would you say no, professor? I am really good in bed, you know."

He watches you quietly once again and you hate how you cannot tell what is going on inside his head. Is he falling for your words or is he simply piecing things together and trying to uncover you? There is a slight flush on his cheeks but you don't know if it's because of you or his workout.

His hand comes to grab your wrist, breaking your train of thought as he takes your hand off his chest and places it on your lap.

"Tell me something you have never told anyone before."

"What?" You are perplexed.

"Tell me something, anything, a secret, a wish, that you have never told anyone before. Then, I will go on a date with you." He replies.

Wait, what?

You blink, absolutely baffled at his words as he sits in silence, looking at you expectantly. His gaze is sombre and sincere, like he really wants to know you and for the first time in forever, your heart skips a beat, making you feel out of place and vulnerable. Quickly, you break eye contact with him and stare at your boots as you think of a reply.

"Don't think of making up a lie. I can tell, you know." He adds.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you internally roll your eyes at him. "I...I have this urge to leave everything behind and just go to an island. Or a place near the sea and spend the rest of my life there, where nobody knows me, where my past doesn't haunt me."

A long silence follows after your words and you cannot make yourself look at him, afraid of what you will find in his eyes, afraid of how they would make you feel and at the same time hating that these thoughts are bothering you.

"I am free this weekend." He murmurs standing up. You look up, surprised, excited. He puts on his hoodie, acting like he did not just agree to a date with you. As he starts walking out of the gym, completely ignoring your presence, you yell. "I'll text you!"

He turns around to look at you as if to ask how you have his number but simply gives you an exasperated look which you reply with a cheeky smile.

"I'm only free after noon." He declares, continuing on his path.

"No problem, professor." You grin.

You agree on an evening library date which is not really an ideal date for you but because of the facade you are holding up, you agree. The library is situated near his campus, an old architectural piece, with dimmed yellow lights and gold details and large windows, radiating a little bit of a gothic energy. He chose the library because of your (fake)interest in theatre, saying that the library would be the best place to discuss these things and you agreed because other than that, it is also not crowded and you can have his full attention.

Dokyeom hand picks a few books on the topic with pure enthusiasm as you follow him around, nodding to whatever he is saying. For the most part, you observe him, watching him with rapt attention, the details of his face, the change of his expressions as he talks, the movement of his hands—

And you have to admit, he has very pretty hands; long and bony, perfect to suck on.

Shaking your head at the ridiculous thought, you follow him to a private study room.

He pulls a chair and helps you sit down, making you smile at his manners. Once he is sat, he turns to you and asks. "Okay, then. What would you like to talk about today? Let's start with plays. What is your favourite play?"

"I don't know, what is yours?" You ask, blinking innocently at him as you rest your chin on your palm. He frowns. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"My favourite play is whatever your favourite play is." You reply sweetly, making him throw an exasperated look at you.

"Is this how you are going to be?"

"Deeply infatuated with you? Yes, professor."

Shaking his head, he opens a book, murmuring something under his breath but you see the soft hint of a smile playing on his lips, making you smile as well.

This should be easy.

Your date goes smoothly, with him discussing his favourite plays, playwrights and whatnot and you nodding along and watching him, throwing in some pointless questions here and there to appear interested. All the while in the back of your mind, you keep planning your next move. Seokmin isn't a stupid man and you know deep down, he sees through your pretence but seeing how he is still entertaining you means that you have captured his interest. And you have to use this to your benefit.

Fate seems to be on your side as on the way back home, Dokyeom suddenly asks if you are free for dinner.

You have to work very hard to mask the huge grin of satisfaction on your face when you say yes. Your response pleases him, visible from his reaction as he excitedly turns the car around and selects a restaurant.

Dokyeom goes all out for dinner, as you are guided to a private dining room upon entering the restaurant. You have to say that his effort impresses you. And of course, it solidifies your belief that he is falling for you. Smiling, you strut behind him.

He pulls out your chair for you, helping you sit down before ordering some appetizers and wine for you to get started.

"I'm a bit surprised you agreed to come." He speaks after a small pause.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I- I just had a thought that you were not serious about me. It almost felt like you lost a bet. I had the impression that you were just playing with me and wasting my time the last few weeks but I'm surprised you pulled through."

You only give him a smile in reply.

"You know, I believe you are one of two things. A weirdo who wants to bed a professor just for fun or, someone with a hidden intention, playing the long game."

"Aren't you smart, professor?" You grin condescendingly, resting your cheek on your palm.

"I know you are bad news, yet..." He pauses for a beat, sighing at himself. "Yet for the past week, I could not stop thinking about you. I'm in deep trouble, no?"

"You are," You smile. "In the sweetest trouble, I promise you."

He scoffs, a faint smile appearing on his lips. "Let's order the main course, shall we?"

The dinner begins with casual small talk as he tells you about his work and you listen, asking casual questions here and there. When you are taking your second serving of the alfredo pasta, he asks. "Tell me about yourself. Why do you do what you do?"

"Come again?" Your movements halt as you look at him.

"Your... profession." He seems to not find his words. "Killing people, threatening them, weapon business, fraud... whatever you do."

"Hm, I do a little bit of all of that but," you set your utensils down, looking up. "Interesting question, professor."

"Is it like a family business?"

Your eyes fly to his, looking for a sign in them of whether he knows your background or not. For a moment you tense up and hold your breath but his face remains the same, looking at you curiously as he sips his wine.

"No, not really." You reply before finishing your glass of wine. "Parents died early. They knew a few people who were in this business and I got involved."

"What business is it exactly?"

"Aren't you curious, professor?"

He shrugs, looking at you in silence, waiting for you to continue. You sigh, dropping your cutlery down and leaning back into the chair.

"My father was in the weapons business. After he passed away things were messy for a bit and I realized dealing with weapons was not my strong forte. Now I'm in the loaning business and I also do contract killing."

Dokyeom's eyes widen significantly and you can't help but laugh at his reaction. He is acting like he hasn't heard something like this before, living in the world that he lives in.

He looks around before lowering his voice and asking. "So you are like a thug that lends people money with high interest?"

"Yep."

"And you beat them up if they fail to return the money on time?''

"Precisely," you grin.

"And what was that about contract killing? What are you? A hitman?"

"You can say that. But I have clients of various ranges. I kill for politicians, for local gangs and even for civilians."

"For civilians?" He hisses.

"Yes, professor." You take a sip of your wine, swirling the bitter liquid around in your mouth. "Three months ago, the news of a young girl getting raped by a senator's son broke out. I'm sure you have heard of that. The girl was only seventeen and the guy came to her birthday party without any invitation, caused a ruckus and raped her that night because she refused to drink with him. The mother of that girl ran around tirelessly for help while she recovered at the hospital. Everyone she went to, told her to drop the charges for her own good. For one, it would take months, even years to complete the investigation and during that time they'd only get harassed, and two, they could never win the case."

"One day, the mother came to see me. I don't know how she found me and I didn't ask. She offered me her entire life savings and begged me for justice for her daughter. I didn't accept her money but I promised her I would avenge her daughter."

"Then...the death of that senator's son, you were behind it?" Seokmin whispers.

"Yes. I castrated him and then slit that bastard's throat."

"And the incident of the senator that came on the news, were you behind that as well?"

"Yes. He was equally at fault. He let his son go astray and then covered up his crimes. He did not deserve to speak another word so I cut his tongue. Fun, no?'

He doesn't reply to you but falls into a deep state of thought as you continue your dinner.

"Did I scare you, professor?" You ask, seeing him so silent.

He blinks a few times, coming out of his reverie. "No."

"Hm, doesn't sound like that."

Once more, you are met with silence as he watches you from the opposite side of the table, the look in his eyes serious, almost as if he is scrutinizing you. You start to grow uncomfortable under his stare, slightly worried that he might piece two and two together and see through you.

Surprising you, he says, "Looks like I misjudged you, ___. I shouldn't have. I apologize."

"What?"

"Not all actions can be boxed into black and white. What you did may be illegal but it was necessary and right. It won't undo everything that the girl went through, but it still makes the whole thing a bit fair."

For probably the first time in your life, you find yourself speechless. You open your mouth to reply but you realize that you are incapable of forming a reply to what he said. So, you just sit in silence, mirroring him.

"I don't know your past and I don't know what your struggles are but you are a good person, ___.''

Your throat has dried up by now as a weird sensation starts settling in your heart. It is uncomfortable and your appetite is ruined.

The man can probably sense your discomfort because he lets out a soft chuckle and leans back into his seat. "I just thought you should know that. I was not trying to woo you or anything."

You swallow a lump in your throat and force a smile. "Let's order dessert, shall we?''

Soon after that, you finish dinner and Dokyeom offers to give you a ride home and you accept it but only after a little internal debate.

Your own attitude baffles you. Why are you hesitating to let him drop you home? Is it because you have started feeling weird things under his company and now you want to avoid them?

No, that's outrageous. You are just tired from a long day of playing pretend.

The drive to your house is silent as you actively avoid having any conversation with him by facing the window and closing your eyes, your arms crossed as you pretend to go to sleep.

A good amount of driving later, you reach your house and tap in the code number for the main gate to open.

"She's a beauty, isn't she?'' You ask upon noticing his reaction; wide eye and mouth slightly open as he drives into your compound, coming to a stop in front of the steps that lead to your main entrance.

The house resembles a haunted mansion in many ways. It is at least a hundred years old, huge but empty, creepers growing around the black tiles, surrounded by dead trees and an abandoned garden. This is where you used to live with your family a long time ago and after your father's death, you left, letting that house collect dust. It is only recently that you started living here after you formed your plan to take the Lee family down.

"She is." He agrees with a nod before undoing his seatbelt. Before you can do that and open your door, he rounds the car and holds the door open for you.

The chilly night air hits your skin as you step out of the car. Dokyeom's gaze travels past you, marvelling at your home.

"Would you like to come in?" You surprise yourself by asking. He immediately nods with a sheepish grin. "I would love to see the interior."

"Well, it is a mess and full of dust but come along," You lead the way as he follows you closely. Holding the door open, you let him step in.

The door opens to a large space in front of a staircase leading upstairs. This area used to be for sitting, and now it is barren of anything. There is a large floor to ceiling window by the staircase, pouring the moonlight inside the space which is dimly lit by an antique chandelier.

"I see you didn't renovate." Dokyeon comments as he walks around, eyes scanning the space in wonder.

"Moved in recently."

"Hm, I like the style. If you end up renovating, I'd say don't change it too much." He advises. Humming, you start climbing the stairs. "My bedroom and the dining are upstairs. Wanna take a look?''

"Sure," he enthusiastically trails behind you as you come upstairs and show him the dining first and then the second bedroom before leading him to your bedroom.

"And here is my room," you hold open the door for him as he walks past you, the same look of wonder constant on his face.

"Wow," he walks straight to the open balcony, the night breeze flowing in strong, making the curtains dance. You slowly follow him, "I know right."

"I almost want to live here. Do you want to trade places with me?'' There's a boyish charm in his eyes and a genuine hint of glee in his voice as he looks at you with a smile.

"No thanks." You cannot help a small smile yourself.

A silence settles, a comfortable one in fact as you watch the view by his side in the cool night air.

"I had a good time today," he confesses, voice soft. You try hard not to acknowledge the funny feeling that spreads inside you upon hearing his words. Softly, you say. "Me too."

Your gaze moves to him and you find him looking at you, the look in his eyes is something you are unfamiliar with. Something that threatens to make your heart skip a beat, and make you forget what you are set out to do.

While you are lost in your thoughts, Dokyeom seems to have moved closer to you. His gaze has deepened and his face is suddenly mere inches away from you, taking you by surprise.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispers.

Fuck it. Part of your mission is to get him to bed, no? You will have to do it sooner or later.

You press your lips to his and fireworks go inside your head. It feels right, his lips moving against yours as you grab his jacket to pull him closer. By the time you two separate, you are breathless, your mind hazy. Dokyeom keeps looking at you like you are the most magnificent thing on this planet, his hand softly caressing your cheeks as your fingertips dance on his neck.

"Should I stay the night?"

There is a cheer of satisfaction within you. You let out a soft hum of acknowledgement which immediately brings his hands to your shoulders.

His lips are the epitome of temptation, your hooded gaze trained on it, stuck in a trance of pure desire. His fingers brush over your back in tantalising touches as he drops your coat from your shoulders, his eyes never straying from yours. Your hands move in a rhythm as you unbutton his blazer and reach for the hem of his turtleneck, helping him to get rid of it with a tug while simultaneously moving back inside your room and towards your bed, discarding the clothes messily on the floor.

His body is like an ancient Greek sculpture, lean and toned and you don't hide the hunger in your gaze. In silence, you push him towards the bed as he drops down to the mattress while you peel off your top along with your bra and then reach for the pants. Once you are left only in your panties, you strut towards him, a small smile on your lips because of the way he keeps looking at you, full of desire and burning passion.

Your hands move seductively as you take off his pants along with his boxers, making sure your nails scrape his thigh. With the fabrics gone, you see his cock for the first time, and my god is he blessed.

"What do you think? Will it please you?" He asks, making you smirk.

"Lie back professor," you order, standing up as he moves back into the bed, half lying against the headboard. You climb on the bed on all fours, positioning yourself on top of him. Leaning down, your lips tease him as your noses brush together softly. You whisper. "Let me give you a time you will never forget."

Something flashes in his eyes for a brief moment which you don't get to observe because his lips crash into yours, ensuing a fierce kiss. You moan into the kiss as his hands come to cup your neck and jaw, his lips pressed against yours relentlessly.

When you realise he is about to press you down into the bed, you break the kiss and inhale deeply. "Mhmm, no, professor. Let me take care of you first." You throw a wink at him and move down, your lips softly dragging against his skin, down his abdomen before reaching his half hard cock.

You take him in your hands, rubbing the base of his dick at a slow pace and watch his face raptly for reactions. As he grows hard against your hand, you lean down and take him into your mouth with one big swallow that makes Dokyem grunt out loud.

"Fuck!"

You smile as you continue your ministrations, moving your mouth up and down against his length while his body grows tense beneath you. Your tongue laps around his entire length, tasting him, teasing him as his breaths become shorter and shorter.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come soon."

His words work as a motivation for you as you increase your pace, swiping your tongue over his leaking tip before he finally explodes inside your mouth with a throaty groan.

You swallow every drop of him, a few trailing down the corner of your lips and you make a show of licking it with unwavering eye contact. Dokyeom lies flat on his back, panting harshly, hooded eyes watching you in an intense stare.

"Good, professor?" You grin, licking your index finger.

Exhaling loudly, he tugs you by your arm. "Come here!" Pinning you underneath his body, he kisses you, his tongue prodding into your mouth, tasting himself. You don't hold yourself back either, kissing him with equal passion until you forget where you end and he begins.

His lips meet your neck, kissing and sucking softly before trailing down to play with your sensitive nipples. As your whines grow in pitch and you grow restless, trying to break free from his grip and take over, he sits over your thighs, spreading his legs on both sides and resting on his knees.

"Do you have a condom?" He asks.

"Multiple," you reply, reaching for the bedside drawer.

As he puts the rubber on, you take the moment to appreciate his figure, his beautiful face, his bed-messy hair, his toned chest and abdomen and of course, his monster of a cock.

"You are one fine man, professor." You find yourself saying. You hate how you genuinely mean it.

"You are not too bad yourself." He flashes a grin before aligning himself with your pussy. As you take a deep inhale, he pushes in, making your body rise as you grip the sheets tightly in reply to the intrusion.

"Fuck, you're so tight."

Your response is to squeeze him tighter as you wrap your legs around his ass, pushing his body closer to yours. Delirious with pleasure, you start chasing his hips right away in a desperate rhythm of your own.

"Harder," you tempt, slinging your arms around his neck to pull him close. His breath fans your face, the slight perspiration on his temples clearly visible in this distance. In the yellowish hue of the room, his skin glows, giving him the appearance of a god, his messy hair tying everything together.

Dokyeom takes you up for the challenge as he increases his pace, making your head fall back as you let out a deep moan from the pits of your belly. He hits the perfect spot every time, driving you wild, bringing you deliciously close to the edge.

"Fuck, I need to come," you pant, hands reaching between your legs to touch your clit. Dokyeom, however, stops you by grabbing your both wrists and pinning them on top of your head, a cocky smirk on your face as he leans into your ear and whispers. "Say please first."

"Never," you immediately reply.

"Then you don't get to come."

"You asshole!" You hiss, trying to writhe free from his grasp but every time you move, his dick goes deeper inside you, amplifying the pleasure that makes you shudder.

"Come on sweetheart. You know you want to come."

"Ugh, no," you grunt, squeezing your eyes shut in a futile attempt to tone done your need for release."

"It's just one tiny word," the devil keeps whispering in your ear, continuing his ruthless thrusts as you teeter on the verge of begging.

"Fuck! Okay, okay!" You yell. "Please!"

"Hm, that didn't sound nice." The bastard complains, making you furious.

"I swear to god—" He interrupts you with a fierce kiss, pushing his tongue so deep inside your mouth that you forget to breathe. Letting go of your hands, his fingers move down, trailing along your skin before reaching between your legs and flicking your clit. That action is enough as you come, fireworks going off inside your body as you twist to a side, your toes curling in pleasure. Dokyeom's body shudders on top of yours as he comes, continuing to kiss your mouth, your chin and your jaw.

Soon, a silence settles in the air as his body rests on top of yours. You don't find it in you to push him off so you let him be, comfortable in his warmth and embrace as you close your eyes, soon to be overtaken by sleep.

Days bleed into weeks that turn into a month as you start dating Seokmin. He grows fonder of you each passing day, the look in his eyes and his actions mirroring what he holds for you in his heart. He starts accepting your obsessive tendencies along with your profession, which pleases you immensely. You have your enemy where you want and things seem to be going your way.

Except one thing.

After you started dating Dokyeom, you have stayed over at his place only a few times. Of course, you made use of those times, snooping through his house in hopes of finding something that would lead you to his brother or at the very least, tell you of his ties to the mafia family of District 1. You never found a single thing. When you asked him about his family, he replied that he is an only child whose parents passed away because of a car crash.

A lie, of course.

Your plan is in motion but at the same time, you feel stuck. You have Dokyeom in the palm of your hand, you just need to get to his brother for everything to come together. You had dramatic plans for a reunion but at this stage, that looks quite impossible.

Maybe you should have just kidnapped him.

One weekend he invites you to his house for dinner as a celebration of him securing a contract with one of the biggest publishers in the country for his next book.

You put on your nicest dress and your fanciest heels for the occasion, your lips painted red as you strut to his front door with a bouquet of flowers.

Dokyeom opens the door looking a little more gorgeous than other days; his black hair brushed back sleekly, and wearing a cream coloured Ralph Lauren sweater with black pants. Tying the look together is his steel framed glasses which he looks fantastic with and which you adore seeing him wearing.

Whenever he wears those glasses you two end up having the most mind blowing sex.

Dokyeom remains rooted in his spot as he watches you, his eyes moving over your full frame with a look of appreciation and desire. You flash a grin, "Good evening, professor."

He blinks before smiling, "Good evening, ___. You look absolutely stunning."

"Thought I should dress up to celebrate you." You shrug. "May I come in?" You smile teasingly and he lets you in with a flustered laugh.

"Dinner is cooking in the oven. I will set the table up," he supplies as he helps you to take off your coat once you are inside. "Would you like some wine?''

"Sure," You follow him to the kitchen which has a soft aroma of the chicken roast, making your stomach rumble slightly. One of the many delights of dating Dokyeom has been his exceptional culinary skills. You watch as he pours wine into two glasses before offering you one, "The chicken will be done in ten minutes. Make yourself at home."

"Thanks," you receive the glass from him and stroll around the house, looking at his decoration, in the back of your mind thinking if any one of these plain items hides the key to his other identity. A phone call echos in the kitchen and you realize Dokyeom is getting a call. He accepts it with an apology directed at you before going to the porch to speak.

In the meantime, you sneak into his study. It is not even sneaking in, to be honest, because he has given you full access to every inch of his house and in fact, encouraged you to visit his study and take a look at his little library. You found it odd at first because his transparency shows that he has nothing to hide and as days pass by and you come up with no leads, a sinking feeling has started appearing in your belly. Not to mention that the bug you put underneath his desk has picked up nothing of importance, no conversation or phone call about District 1 or his mafia family.

Maybe you have made a huge mistake. Maybe he is some random innocent guy who just looks like the youngest son of Lee family and has fallen to your prey.

Still, you step inside his study with the hope of finding something new. Like every other time, your fingers comb through the shelves of his library before moving towards his desk, shuffling through the papers carefully to not disturb the arrangement. You also peek beneath the desk to make sure the recorder is still there and active before going through his drawers. It has become a routine check at this point, your fingers moving through his stuff in experienced movements as you hold your breath in anticipation of finding a lead.

It goes futile, of course.

With a defeated sigh you stand up to find Dokyeom standing at the entrance of his study with a completely foreign look on his face.

Shit.

A gasp of surprise and terror leaves your mouth as your eyes meet his and for several moments, a gut-wrenching feeling wreaks havoc within you. You hate how you feel, guilty like a criminal or even worse, a person breaking the trust they were given and getting caught red handed by the person who trusted them the most.

"What are you doing?'' His tone is flat and cold, something you are hearing for the first time. It takes a second for your brain to start functioning properly. "Just looking around, professor. You know I get snoopy sometimes." You tilt your head to the side, giving him a coy smile.

Dokyeom gives no reaction. He takes a few, slow steps towards you, his footsteps matching the beat of your heart as he comes to a stand in front of the table.

Then, his hand reaches below, searching for something beneath the table before coming back up with the bug in his hand.

Ah, fuck.

"What is this?" He asks.

"A bug? Who would do that to you, professor?" You ask innocently.

He keeps staring at you, the look of disappointment growing permanent on his face as you realize you are caught for good.

Fuck it, you had to reveal yourself one way or the other anyway.

With a loud exhale, you ask, "When did you find out?"

"Last week," he replies, tone clipped. "I was baffled when I found it. Nobody visited my place in the last few weeks except you. Stupidly, I told myself it cannot be you so someone must have broken in. I looked through the CCTV footage but I found nothing there was well." He blows out a long breath, shaking his head dejectedly, "I still prayed it wouldn't be you but the reality says otherwise, ___."

Hmm, it does.

"It was me," you announce, plopping down on his chair behind the desk while he watches you unamusedly. "And you are right. Someone did break in. That was me as well." You flash him an evil grin.

Whatever colour that was left on his face drains out as he keeps staring at you, unblinking, for a long period. You return his stare with one of your own, except you are curious to see his next reaction. There is also a feeling of dread somewhere within you but you decide to ignore it.

Dokyeom's palms come to rest on the table as he hangs his head low, remaining motionless. Finally, when he looks up, the look in his eyes has completely changed and his jaw is tight, giving you the first glimpse into the mafia heir that he really is.

You watch as he reaches for the scissors in the stationary holder sitting on his desk, and rounds the table before coming to stand right next to you, holding the tip of the scissors right against your neck as he leans down and hisses. "Should I slit your throat right here or should I hear you out?"

You must admit that you find this look on him very attractive.

You cannot help the grin, "Finally, you are acting like the youngest heir of District 1, professor. I like it."

His eyes widen slightly as the scissors move just a bit away from your skin. "What do you want?"

"To tell you that, I have to tell you a long story." Your smile drips with venom as you stand up and walk over to the sitting area. "Sit down. It's a long story." You say, motioning towards the sofa in front of you. He isn't enthusiastic but he follows your direction, sitting down in front of you, the scissors still in his hand.

You lean back into the cushions throwing one leg over the other as you look him in the eye.

"Once upon a time, six years ago actually, there was a man who used to deal weapons. His general clients were not high profile but one day he got orders from the mafia family of District 1. They had some issues with their regular supplier so they chose that man for a quick supply."

"The man had two daughters. One who was 18 at that time and another who was 16. Their mother passed away a couple of years ago and their father was always busy with either work or gambling so the sisters only had each other. The older sister took very good care of the younger one, making sure she was happy and protected all the time."

"Then one night, the mafia barged through the door, surrounding their house with armed men. The eldest and the youngest son of the Lee family also came. They dragged the father and the older daughter outside on the porch where they killed him with a clean shot in the head. Then they grabbed the older daughter and dragged her into their car, making her disappear forever."

"Meanwhile, the younger daughter watched all this from far away as the father's right hand man told her to remain hidden to save herself. After some digging around, it was found out that District 1 went to war with the Russians and they lost that war while also losing the head of the family, the father of the two brothers, Lee Jihoon and..." you pause before looking him dead in the eye and whispering, "Lee Seokmin."

Thick silence stretches in the air.

Dokyeom keeps looking at you, his fingers intertwined under his chin. "So, all this was a grand plan of yours to what, fool me? Betray me after making a joke out of me?" He asks. making you chuckle.

"You were only the beginning of my plan. I wanted to mess with you, of course, but I thought I would find out about your brother's whereabouts through dating you. I initially had a fun plan that I would show up uninvited in one of his business deals and ruin it, damage his reputation for good. However, that plan failed because I found no information about him or your family from you. You really hide that part of you well, no Professor?"

He remains silent.

"Now that my initial plan has failed, I think I will have to kidnap you, hm? Ask your brother for ransom. He would have no choice but to show up then."

Your words make Dokyeom scoff as he shakes his head, the corners of his lips turned up as if you have said the funniest thing ever. You don't like his reaction.

"You want to see my brother? I will arrange that."

"What?" You must have heard wrong. "What game are you playing now?"

"I'm not playing any game."

"Then why?" You narrow your eyes on him, your hand reaching to your back pocket to pull out the switchblade if necessary.

He looks at you for a long moment before letting out a breath. "I am impressed, that's all. I have to acknowledge your talent, no? Also, you deserve to know the truth." He looks you in the eye. "The real truth. Not some bullshit your father's right hand man made up."

"Don't you fucking tell me what is the truth and what is the lie, you murderer!" You seethe, clenching your fists.

You should just gut him right here.

Once again, he just smiles. "I will text you when he is available for the meeting. However, it will be one on one. If you bring someone else, he will not show up."

"I could still kidnap you."

"You are welcome to try but I guarantee you, that plan is going to fail. You are a smart woman. I'm giving you a good option. Just take it." He stands up.

"Well if you think that I alone am not a threat to your brother then you are mistaken. I can make his blood spill if I want to," You stand up and take a menacing step towards him. "If you find your dear brother dead after the meeting, don't blame me, hm?''

You don't wait for a reply as you turn on your heel and march out of the room. On your way out you find the dinner served on the table, the chicken cut nicely into pieces along with vegetables. Picking up a fork, you stab a few pieces of chicken, shove them into your mouth and then take a sip of the wine.

As always, his food tastes great.

With your coat slung over your shoulder, you pull open the door and yell behind you, "Thanks for the dinner, professor!"

You slam the door loudly behind you.

Lee Jihoon agrees to have a meeting with you one day later. Initially, you wanted Changkyun to drive you there but Dokyeom sent a text saying that he would pick you up because outside vehicles are not allowed entry into Jihoon's compound. Reluctantly, you agreed and after an absolute silent drive later, you reach the mansion of the mafia family of District 1.

The compound is stunning and heavily guarded, with checkposts and watch towers set at certain distances as well as multiple security screenings that you have to pass through. Once Dokyeom passes the final gate, the gorgeous mansion comes into view. Just upon entry, there is a large compound surrounding a giant water fountain in the middle of neatly trimmed rows of trees. Dokyeom stops the car at a small parking space near the front yard where the meeting will take place.

As the car comes to a stop you notice a small table and garden chairs set up underneath a large umbrella that is surrounded by multiple guards— the place of your meeting. With a deep breath, you step out of the car, along with Dokyeom who comes out of the driver's side door. Surprising you, he leans against the car with his arms crossed and starts looking around.

"You are not coming?''

"No."

You are perplexed but don't ask any further questions, busy with the task ahead of you. Tilting your head side to side, you pop your neck before marching towards the garden. Spotting you, one of the guards speaks into his comm. Throwing a mock smile at him, you drag a chair out and sit down, waiting for him to arrive. Out of curiosity, you turn your head behind to see Dokyeom in the same spot, staring off into the distance.

Weird.

A maid comes to serve two cups of tea before hurrying away and soon after, the man arrives.

Dressed in full black, Lee Jihoon steps out of the mansion and walks towards you, closely followed by two bodyguards, his body language is relaxed as he pulls out the chair in front of you and sits down. Taking off his shades, he looks at you, his eye contact calm yet unwavering along with something very powerful and dark brimming underneath as you come face to face with the man behind all your misery.

"Good morning, ___. My brother informed me about our interesting past." He speaks, his tone light, his facial expression laced with amusement as if he is catching up with an old friend.

"Then you know why I am here." You cut to the chase, trying to keep your tone as even as possible. Just hearing his voice irks you to your core.

"Remind me again." He hums, wiping his shades with a piece of cloth.

This motherfucking bastard.

"You killed my father! You kidnapped my sister! What—" You inhale deeply. "What did you do to her!" You hiss, unable to keep your voice from raising as your hands form fists, violent rage bubbling within you. There is a knife hidden underneath your bra and you consider pulling it out and stabbing him.

You can be quick but it wouldn't cause enough damage.

Besides, you need to know if your sister is alive.

"I see you are furious and I understand that feeling." Jihoon begins, throwing one leg on top of another as he links his hands together, leaning back to sit comfortably.

You hate how nonchalant he is about all this.

"Since I'm in a good mood today and my younger brother has asked for a favour after a very long time, I'll answer your questions. Let's begin with your father's death, shall we? My family had a deal with your father. He was to provide us with weapons and artilleries for a year because our usual supplier got murdered earlier that year and we chose him as a temporary replacement. In November of that year, a war broke out between us and the Russians. We went to war with those weapons. Guess what happened?"

You remain silent, staring at him in rage.

"The weapons stopped working. The guns would either jam or misfire. Hundreds of my men died and we lost that war. Your father sold us weapons that were crap. They were a batch of second grade weapons that he had lying around." Jihoon pauses for a second before resting his arms on the table and leaning closer to you. "You know why he did that?''

"Because he had gambled away the initial deposit we gave him. That led to an argument with his manufacturer who said the deal would be on hold. He could neither get the weapons nor cancel the deal with us so like a fucking coward, he sold us those shitty weapons."

"You are lying." You hiss.

"I was hoping you would say that. You see, I don't care whether you believe me or not, ___. You asked for the truth and here it is."

Bullshit.

Lee Jihoon is the master of manipulation, there is no way he is being honest right now.

"Then where is my sister? What did you do with her?"

His eyes darken at your words.

"She is alive. That is all you need to know." His tone is clipped.

You are immediately on your feet, the chair scraping backwards by your sudden motion. "Where is she, you fucking son of a bitch!" You bang your fists on the table, ready to jump on him. His bodyguard starts to come to you but Jihoon raises his hand as a signal for him to stand back.

"Sit down, ___." He remains unbothered. "Wherever she is, she is safe and well."

"Like I believe a word that comes out of your mouth! If she is really alive why won't you tell me!" You scream.

"Because your sister told me not to."

The ground slips away from your feet as your heart starts galloping. "What— what you talking about, you fucking liar!"

Jihoon gets up and walks towards you, fixes the chair back in its place and forces you to sit down by grabbing your shoulders.

"Look, ___. I am doing you the favour of explaining everything which I never do for anyone else. You can either act civil and stop calling me names or I have you escorted out right now." He threatens in your ear, his body leaning against the garden table. Your hands form tight fists in your lap as it takes everything within you to hold yourself back from punching him.

He says, "A word of advice for you, don't believe everything you see. Your sister has her demons that she had been hiding for a long time. She had them when we took her and she still has them. When she overcomes all of them, she will come find you."

You are stunned to silence.

"I- I don't believe you. You are making all this up." Your brain is scrambling, trying to fit the pieces together that you seem to have missed.

"Alright then. I'll contact your sister and tell her to write you a letter, maybe even attach some pictures. How about that?"

You remain silent.

Jihoon sighs and sits back down on the chair, before reaching for his phone inside his jacket. Swiping through the device, he finds what he is looking for before turning the screen towards you.

A gasp escapes you as your hands come to cover your mouth. It is a picture of your sister. You recognize her immediately despite the change in her features throughout the years. She sits by a window, a very subtle smile on her lips as she looks at the camera.

You could look at that picture forever but Jihoon takes the phone away, putting it inside his pocket as you blink away the tears from your eyes.

"You are all murderers. You ruined our lives." You whisper, your head hanging low as you stare at the green grass below your feet suddenly overcome with a feeling of helplessness.

Has she really been alive all this time? Has she been well?

"We never said we weren't. Our world abides by some rules and your father was well aware of those rules. His greed got the best of him and in a perfect world, his family wouldn't have suffered for his crime but in our world, that is the rule."

Tears brim in your eyes as you are overwhelmed with distraught.

"Thousands of people in district one had to die for your father's greed. It is only fair that he died. We didn't even make it painful and that is something our men were not blessed with." His tone becomes dark by the end.

"If you still don't believe me, I will mail you some of the investigation reports on that case. But this is as far as I'll entertain you, ___ and this is the last time I wish to see you in my premises unless I call you." Jihoon stands up, putting his hands in his pockets as you keep glaring holes into the ground.

"One final piece of advice, if you aren't serious about my brother, leave him." His words make you look up at him. "Me and Seokmin don't talk to each other anymore but for you, he contacted me after years, leaving behind his pride. He seems to have serious feelings about you. If you don't feel that way about him, leave. You got what you wanted."

Did you? Did you really get what you wanted?

"Goodbye." He puts on his shades and strides out of the garden, his bodyguards trailing after him as you are left alone with your thoughts and the tea which has now gone cold.

You get back into Dokyeom's car in silence. The man does not ask any questions or acknowledge you, mutely starting the car almost as if you are not even here.

You sit still, stuck in a trance as Jihoon's words replay in your mind over and over again. Now, you truly do not know what is the truth and what is the lie as you spiral into a dark pit of hopelessness. Could it truly be that Changkyun and his father lied to you? But why would they do that? Why would Jihoon lie to you either? He has no reason to. He is not afraid of anyone and he has no benefit from lying to you.

Your mind starts to numb from the continuous onslaught of thoughts. When you finally take a break from them and focus on your surroundings, you realize the car has come to a stop. It is parked on a small cliff that overlooks a mountain range far away. Seokmin looks at you expectantly, almost as if he is waiting for you to step out of the car. Without much thought, you do that and he follows you as you both silently tread towards a small bridge nearby. Resting against it, you take in the view for a few minutes, the man next to you doing the same.

"I heard you don't speak to your brother anymore." You decide to speak. It caught you off guard when Jihoon first mentioned it but you have been too preoccupied with other worries to address it. It is making sense to you now as to why you could not find anything at his house.

After a moment, his soft voice floats through the silence. "I used to be really close with my brother. I looked up to him ever since I was a child. In a world as grim as ours, he was a source of hope and a shelter for me." He breathes, his eyes focused ahead, clouded with memories. "It was a given that he was going to be the next don since he was the oldest but he always told me that I'd be a better leader, that I should be prepared to take over if anything were to happen to him. Sometimes, it felt as if he trusted me more than he trusted himself and I didn't want to let him down."

Seokmin comes to a pause as his gaze shifts from staring straight ahead to coming lower and lower, finally stopping at his shoes. With his head hanging low and a dejected posture, he whispers. "Everything changed after that war. Our father died along with so many of our men. The bloodshed was too much for me. I tried to suck it in by telling myself that I will overcome this. I will get used to it but the thing was, I didn't want to. I didn't want to get used to the violence, to the bloodshed, to that life and finally, after killing your father and taking away your sister, I gave up."

There is a heavy pause in the air. Your breath is trapped in your lungs as you watch him, waiting eagerly for his next words, urging him to continue while failing to find your voice.

"That night, I told hyung I was going to leave. I was going to denounce everything. My title, my inheritance, everything. My final gesture of loyalty and love for him was to aid him in killing the man that caused all the mess but my brother...He was...livid. He punched me, yelled at me and finally begged me not to leave. When I still said no he looked at me for a long moment." His breath shudders as he pauses shortly.

"I remember it so vividly. His face went completely blank as he ordered his men to escort me out, not even saying goodbye or looking back. That night I left and I never saw him again until...today. To the members of District 1, it was like the Lee family expanding their territory by having me step into the world of art under a new name. You also thought the same but now, you know the truth."

His eyes finally move as he shifts his position, leaning against the edge of the rail to look at you.

"Our world isn't fair, ___ and you cannot judge our actions based on the laws of the normal world. I do not like bloodshed or violence but I've realised that sometimes it is necessary to keep the balance. Killing your father was such a moment and—" he pauses, his brows furrowing as he looks at you desperately, almost like he's in pain as he searches for the right words.

"I do not regret it. I regret a lot of things but do not regret his death. I'm sorry that you lost your father and I'm sorry that you had a tough life. More than anything else, I'm sorry that you harboured all these negative feelings inside you only to realise that the truth was something else entirely. I'm sorry it had to be like this, ___."

You swallow, blinking to hold back tears. His eyes shine, mirroring yours as you both stare at each other in silence. You want to scream, yell at the top of your lungs that he is lying but you know that if you open your mouth, only sobs will come out. So you opt for watching Seokmin in silence as a gust of cool breeze flows by, messing your hair while you pray that it takes away your despair along with it.

"I'm going to leave you alone now. I'm sure you need some time to process everything. I just wanted to say my part." He whispers, slowly taking steps away. He pauses for a beat on his way to see if you say anything but you keep staring at the sky as if hypnotised. As his footsteps get farther away and the car's engine roars to life, your tears fall, cascading down your cheeks in endless streams.

Sleep doesn't come easily to you that night. With the rise of the sun, you get some shut eye before waking up and lying in your bed for hours, sinking deep into the hollow in your chest that feels like it's devouring you whole. Beside you, your phone rings multiple times with Changkyun's calls but you ignore them, not prepared to face him, not prepared to confront your best friend that he has been lying to you. When the growls of your stomach finally grow too loud for you to tolerate, you get up to eat something.

Inside your large house, you float around like a ghost, the emptiness and coldness of the structure mirroring how you feel on the inside. Your brain is too broken to think yet thoughts overflow, numbing you.

As you eat some cereal you finally decide to check your phone and you see Changkyun's message.

I dropped by your house this morning. You didn't open and you are not picking up.

Come to the seaport when you see this. We need to talk.

Your first reaction is to put your phone face down, ignoring the text. But as time ticks by and you see the afternoon sun going lower and lower in the sky, you change your mind. You need to talk to him. You deserve to know the truth from his mouth. Besides, the sooner you get this over with the better.

Maybe it's finally time to retire to a city by the beach, you think to yourself as you drive to the seaport.

The wind is high and the sun is about to disappear beneath the horizon when you reach the port. Parking your car, you walk along the edge of the platform, letting the cold her blow into your face as you watch the ships nearby get loaded with containers. As you stop to watch the sunset, you soon hear footsteps behind you and years of familiarity let you know it's Changkyun.

Sure enough, a few seconds later he comes to stand next to you.

"I have been trying to reach you all morning."

"Hm."

Your response probably comes unexpected to him as he shifts his position, turning to look at you, eyes intensely boring into you.

A gust of a particularly strong wind flows, disrupting your hair, covering your face with a few strands, almost as if shielding you from his scrutiny.

"Well?" He prods. You remain silent, staring ahead, racking your brain for the right words to start this conversation.

"___, what did that murderer say?" He asks again, his pitch rising.

"Not what I expected to hear." You give in with a sigh, turning your head to look at him in the eye. Changkyun's eyes widen just a fraction, a look of alarm settling on his face.

"I think we were not completely innocent, either." There's a coldness in your voice but he misses it, hissing. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

You tell him how the meeting with Jihoon went before posing the million dollar question. "Is that really the truth, Changkyun?"

With every word leaving your lips, you see his expression change, going from disbelief to betrayal to anger and then, to guilt.

A silence falls as you wait and watch him, holding your breath as his head hangs low, his hair covering his face as he stares at the ground. The remnants of your hope fade away with every passing second.

"Tell me the truth, Kyun! Did my father really gamble away the money?" Your voice is a desperate plea.

"So what if he did!" He scowls at you.

Your whole body freezes as your fears get confirmed. It takes a good moment for you to speak. "Why did you and your father lie to me? You said he was completely innocent, that he did nothing wrong yet got murdered by Ji—"

"For revenge! I lied so that we could take revenge!"

"Revenge for what!" You cry, frustrated. "You and I know very well what the rules are in this world. You would not spare me either if I did to you what my father did!"

"They took your sister, ___. God knows what they did—"

"She's alive." You whisper.

Changkyun's eyes widen, his mouth opening to say something yet failing to do so. He brushes a frustrated hand through his hair, exhaling loudly as he processes the information.

"What is the plan now?" He asks, his voice muted, looking at the ground.

"What do you mean what's the plan!" You cry. "Did you not hear me? There is no plan, Kyun. This is as far as I can go!"

"You do not mean that, ___!" His voice booms, eyes wide with rage. "They killed your father, ruined his empire, ruined every one of our fucking lives! They have your sister locked away for fucks sake!"

You say the words you never thought you would. "My father did not have an empire. What he had was a gambling addiction and a business built on a house of cards." Your voice grows meek, eyes shining with tears of pain and exhaustion. "As for my sister," you take in a deep breath. "Jihoon said he would make her write me a letter. He said she has reasons for hiding but she is safe. I have decided to trust his words for now."

"You—" Changkyun looks at you, baffled. "You are a fucking coward, ___! What about the work we put on all these years? What about us? What about my father? Who's going to avenge him!"

You sigh, rubbing your forehead. Blinking back tears, you try to compose yourself by taking in a deep breath. "I had a harsh wake up call that made me realize that all these years you were lying to me and using me to quench your bloodthirst. Who's going to avenge your father? Maybe you, if you are crazy but not me. His addiction led him astray and he committed suicide. What is there to avenge?"

"___! He ended up like that because the Lees killed your father and ruined our business!" He's like a madman as he steps closer to you, yelling. You yell back, "Just stop it, Changkyun! What do you want me to do, huh? March into Jihoon's house and start firing? Do you know the levels of security that place has? Whatever men we have, he has ten times more and I do not want my team to walk into a suicide mission without any cause. And most importantly, I will not jeopardise the safety of my sister! Jihoon knows her whereabouts and I need him if I want to see my sister again!"

"You... you—" Changkyun has turned red with fury as his words fail him.

You do not like how this conversation is going and your exhaustion makes you take a step back.

"We were carrying their sins with us but I have realised, we don't need to. Our parents...they made their decisions and paid the price for it. Let it end with them, please. I don't want to drag this any more. I am tired, Kyun." You whisper, praying the words to reach him.

Years of hunting and planning the destruction of one man has left you tired to your bones along with a general disdain for the world you have been living in. You were alone all along, chasing a ghost.

It is time to stop.

"No. You are not tired. You are a coward. A brainwashed coward." Changkyun sneers, venom dripping from his eyes.

"If that's what you would like to believe, then so be it." You conclude, not finding the energy to argue with him anymore. Your indifference irks him as he scowls at you, his hands clenched into fists.

You announce. "I am going to retire. You can take over from here on but I suggest you look into doing something new. Our business—"

"Don't you fucking dare give me advice!" His voice booms as he charges towards you. In the blink of an eye, he grabs you by the collars, livid. "Don't utter a single fucking word, you traitor! You fucking liar! You got some dick and decided to switch sides huh!" He seethes, gripping your collars tight and violently shaking you. The headache you already had intensifies but that isn't the thing that's hurting you.

His words hurt. Despite his lies, you considered him your best friend for the past six years. And maybe it's the attachment or the nostalgia of all these years that prevents you from fighting back.

You are done.

You have done enough fighting for a lifetime.

Mean words roll off Changkyun's tongue as he pushes you to the ground in a fit of rage, throwing his legs over your torso as he wraps his arms around your neck.

The next moment there is a click of a gun and you manage to peek over Changkyun's shoulder to find Seokmin standing behind him, pointing a revolver at the back of his head.

Your breath catches in your throat.

What the hell is he doing here?

Changkyun's grip on your throat loosens when he feels the presence behind him as he attempts to turn around. However, Seokmin presses the nozzle of the gun harder into his head, hissing. "Let her go. Now."

"Changkyun, please. Stop." You whisper, finally finding your voice. You do not like the look in Seokmin's eyes, something you've never seen before, something lethal and untamed and paired with the gun in his hand, you do not trust what he might do.

"Speak of the devil." Changkyun scoffs, looking at you, still holding a steady grip on your neck. "The boyfriend is here to save the day."

"Let. Her. Go." Seokmin repeats.

Changkyun looks torn, fury blazing in his eyes while also being aware of the gun being pointed at his head. With a frustrated grunt, he loosens his grip on your throat and you use that fraction of a second to tackle him by grabbing his arms and pinning him to the ground as you come on top. "Stop it, Kyun." Your plea is a whisper that is met with eyes full of wrath.

The next second Seokmin abruptly tugs you behind by your arm as he takes a step forward, becoming a barrier between you and Changkyun. The gun is still in his hand, pointing towards your friend.

"Seokmin put the gun down. It's fine." You try to step forward and pry the weapon out of his hand but he doesn't let you, holding you behind protectively with an arm outstretched.

"You may trust him, but I don't," Seokmin replies, eyes fiercely trained on Changkyun who has sat up. His eyes are equally furious with an underlying hint of challenge, as if he's daring Seokmin to shoot.

And he just might.

"For fucks sake, both of you! Enough!" You holler, clutching onto Seokmin to drag him further away from Changkyun who slowly stands up and brushes the dust off of him before looking at you with a deathly stare. Seokmin's grip on your arm tightens, the gun still in his hand but not pointed at him now.

You can almost physically feel the air thicken with tension.

"Don't try to contact me, ___. If I see your face ever again, there will be a bullet hole between your eyes." Changkyun grits out, sparing one last look of scorn at you before marching away.

With the kaleidoscope of colours of the dusk sky, you watch your best friend of years walk away, experiencing heartbreak and a weird relief at the same time.

Silence settles with the sun dipping below the horizon. Seokmin let's go of you, putting some distance between your bodies. Your eyes meet his as you exchange a silent look full of turbulent emotions.

Emotions you can't quite name yet feel overwhelmed with.

"How did you find me?" Your soft inquiry breaks the silence. He removes his gaze from you and looks at the ground. "Went to your place this afternoon. As I was pulling up I saw your car leave and I just...followed you."

"Why?"

"I... don't know. My gut told me I should." He replies calmly.

You sigh as another beat of silence fills the air. The sky is now fully dark, spread wide with different shades of purple. The wind has gotten significantly colder and you feel like if you stay out too long, it will settle into your bones.

Like the echoing coldness in your heart.

"You should not have interrupted. I was dealing with him."

Seokmin frowns. "Dealing with him? By lying still and letting him choke you?"

"Like I said—"

"Forget that,'' Seokmin interrupts you with a huff. "I went to your place because I had to tell you something." You look at him inquisitively as he fishes out something from the breast pocket of his trench coat.

Extending his hand towards yours, he pushes something into your palm.

A ticket.

"What is this?" You find yourself asking.

"Remember how you said you wanted to go to a place by the sea." He begins, his voice soft like his gaze. "Well, this is it. Now that everything is over, you can go and live by the beach. This cruise leaves tomorrow afternoon. It'll take a few days to reach Barcelona."

You look at the little piece of paper in your hand, letting his words wash over you.

"Think of this as an apology for everything. For what me and my family put you through." He adds when you don't reply.

"I see." Your voice is almost inaudible.

Seokmin says nothing for a few moments, as if waiting for you to speak but when you don't, he continues. "I am going as well. To Barcelona, I mean."

You move his gaze to him and blink inquisitively.

"I felt like taking a break after everything. I haven't been on a vacation for a very long time. I, too, wanted to see the ocean. When I got tickets, I thought I'd get one for you. We don't have to go together or see each other if you decide to go, that is..." He trails off.

You gaze at him for a while, memorising his features. Swallowing a sudden lump in your throat, you force a smile and give him a shaky nod.

"Well, then. I'll get going." He takes a few steps back, rubbing his palms together.

"Bye."

"If you don't come tomorrow, this is goodbye, no?" He asks as he continues to take small steps away from you, still facing you.

"I guess so." You reply. He stops and takes a long look at you before saying. "It was really nice knowing you, ___. Despite our history, despite the short time, I don't regret meeting you and... loving you." The last two words fade into a whisper, making you doubt if he even said them.

You don't get a chance to reply. You don't even get a chance to wholly process his words before he gives a wave, a small smile on his face before jogging away.

You stay rooted to your spot.

I don't regret meeting you and loving you.

The sun is shining stronger than any other afternoon when you step out of the taxi with nothing but a small bag pack on your shoulders. Receiving the boarding pass, you walk into the deck which is now empty because the ship is set to leave in just five minutes.

It is not fully empty, however, because one person stands, looking anxious, his eyes skirting around wildly.

When his eyes land on you, a smile of relief seems to appear on his face, triggering the corners of your lips to rise slightly as well. In silence, you walk to him.

"You came." His voice sounds glad but also as if he is trying to school his excitement.

"Did not want to waste a free ticket." You shrug, looking away.

Seokmin nods. "Right. Well, you are just on time."

"I know." There's a pause for a second as he looks like he wants to say something. A staff gives out the final boarding call which makes you continue your way into the cruise, followed by Seokmin.

Once you are boarded, you walk towards the front of the vessel, glad that it is not too crowded. The whistle of the cruise booming in the air signals the start of its journey as the sunlight and the warm breeze kiss your face.

"I'm glad you decided to come," Seokmin says, making you turn around to look at him. In the soft glow of the sun and the wind playing with his hair, he looks breathtaking.

After a moment, you whisper. "Me too."

Giving you a nod and a friendly smile, he walks away with his suitcase into the upper deck and out of sight while you stand and watch him go, the sun warming your skin.

1 month later

The evening air has a slight chill, not uncomfortable but just pleasant. You walk barefoot on the sand, hands crossed over your chest as your feet carry you down the edge of the ocean with practised ease. Around you, people enjoy the beach after a hectic day, children playing around laughing, parents taking videos, friends flying kites, couples walking hand in hand. The sound of the waves crashing to the shore along with the remnants of orange hues in the sky sets up a wonderful atmosphere, which, after almost a month, you have become used to but certainly not bored of.

You have never felt so much at peace.

This getaway was truly what you needed as you learned to spend time by yourself, alone with your thoughts, isolated from the world yet watching it pass by. It has been a palliative experience so far. You came to terms with your life, your past, your actions and your feelings for a certain individual.

Just one day into your getaway, a letter was brought to your room by a hotel staff and upon opening it, you realised Jihoon kept his promise.

It was a handwritten letter from your sister, along with a picture of her, sitting next to a large painting that she created. She looks different, not how you remember her, a different glow on her face that you did not remember because she was almost always melancholic.

You now feel a little guilty because you never asked her why.

Dear ____.

It has been a long while, no? I am sorry for being out of touch. It is unforgivable, I know but I finally found the courage to write to you after you came to visit Jihoon. When we were first separated something was chasing me that made me want to run away from everything. I put off connecting to you for your own good when I heard you were living with Changkyun and his father and just like that, years had passed. I occasionally looked into your whereabouts and I knew you were doing fine but I never found it in me to get rid of the guilt and just write to you.

I tried hard not to show it but life was not so kind to me before the last six years and getting taken away from our dad was probably the best thing for me.

It is a story for another day and there are still demons that I need to defeat. After that I will come to see you and ask for forgiveness. Until then, live well and rest easy knowing that I have been doing better for the past few years.

Your sister.

Reading the letter was bittersweet, the first emotion invoked within you was hurt and longing as you shed a few tears seeing your sister's picture, mused about the old days and wondered what she went through all by herself.

Initially, you had thought of writing back a reply but you decided against it because the words you wish to utter can not be confined within a paper. Instead, you sent out a prayer to the universe, hoping you would get to meet her sometime soon.

From a distance, someone calls out your name, calling your attention back to the present and you turn instinctively to find Seokmin jogging towards you through the sand, two cones of ice creams in his hands. A smile appears on your lips as you take a few steps towards him, reaching your arms out. Wrapping him in a soft hug, you plant a sweet kiss on his lips before taking an ice cream from his hand and reaching for the other as well.

"Both of these are for me right?"

The poor man looks conflicted. "Well, uhm, no but if you want you can have them."

You snort a burst of laughter. "You can have it, Min. Maybe save a bite for me."

Hand in hand, you two walk a little closer to the shore and sit down, letting the flow of the waves occasionally touch your feet.

Your relationship with Seokmin developed surprisingly but quickly after coming to Barcelona. Initially, you did not expect anything, too overridden with the guilt of your tricks and the history of your families to make any attempt to talk to him. Two weeks went by as you did not see each other, except for occasionally bumping into each other at the beach or the hotel lobby because as fate would have it, you two shared the same hotel. It was hard and uncomfortable, pretending not to see him when you ran into him and it would make you wonder if he felt the same.

It all changed one night when you were returning to the hotel after dinner and some drinks. Tipsy and wobbly, you focused extra hard to not bump into anyone as you made your way into the lobby of the hotel.

And there you bumped into him, quite literally.

"Hey there, easy," The man's hands hold your shoulders to stop you from falling on your ass. You look up and find Seokmin. Thinking that you are seeing things, you blink two more times before coming to terms with the fact that it was indeed Seokmin in front of you.

"Someone had a lot to drink," He says as you try to regain your balance. "Can you go to your room by yourself? Should I come with you?"

With a huff, you push him away, trying to appear independent as you take wobbly steps. Seokmin decides to escort you, as he follows closely behind all the way, one hand outstretched, ready to catch you in case you fall.

When you reach your room, Seokmin assists you in unlocking the door. Once the job is done successfully, you pause in the entryway to look back at him. He stands there, somewhat awkward and you consider whether to shut the door on his face or ask him to come in. Neither of them sounds like a good idea but still, you kick the door to open it a little wider and murmur as you walk in, "Come in, if you want."

You don't look behind as you head for the small fridge to retrieve a water bottle and chug it down. Seokmin steps in, a bit hesitant, closing the door behind him. You take a seat on the edge of your bed as Seokmin gingerly sits down on the couch placed in front.

A small moment of silence passes by as you two observe each other. He is dressed in running gear and judging from the pristine condition of his hair, you assume that he was on his way for a late night jog.

"We keep bumping into each other," Seokmin tries to break the silence. You nod, "Must be fate." You are not quite sure if you said those words genuinely or sarcastically. Seokmin does not reply, probably thinking that you are being sarcastic.

You find yourself asking, "How have you been?"

"Good."

"How long do you plan to stay here?"

"A couple more weeks maybe."

"Are you having fun?''

"Yes."

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

He takes a moment before replying, "Not really. I'm more worried if I am making you uncomfortable."

"Hm," you hum and with that, the conversation dies down. You have a lot to say on your mind but your mind is not in its top condition right now as you have had a few drinks, which makes it a bit harder to arrange your thoughts and address them accordingly.

"I should get going, I suppose," Seokmin says, rubbing his palms on his thighs.

"Wait," the words slip out of your mouth in urgency and you are not even sure why you are telling him so.

The man blinks at you.

"I—" You don't know what you wish to say. "I guess I just wanted to say...I'm sorry."

Seokmin appears a little surprised hearing you say that as he sits up straighter. You huff out a long breath, looking down at the empty water bottle in your hand. "What I'm trying to say is that...I am sorry that I played with your feelings. I- I am sorry for using you. You are a nice person, professor."

You calling him by his old title makes him smile as he says. "I just realized I missed you calling me by that name."

"Professor?"

"Yes, ___?"

A small smile appears on your face as well as you bite your lip to stifle it.

"___?" Seokmin's soft voice makes you look at him. He looks unsure but also hopeful. "Hypothetically, if I told you that I still miss you and that I still long for you, what would you say?"

"Your breath stalls as you watch him, wide eyed. There is a sudden lump in your throat that makes it impossible for you to speak. You are scared you might start crying if you do so. Still, you breathe, "Hypothetically, I would say that I feel the same too.''

"And would it be a lie this time, my beautiful liar?"

You swallow as you watch him take slow steps towards you. When he stands right in front of you, his hands gently cup your cheeks, carefully tilting your head upwards so that you can meet his eyes. They shine with emotions unsaid, just like yours and the look on his face makes your heart soar, makes you forget everything, makes you want to be selfish.

"No," you whisper.

You get to see the slightest tilt of his lips to a smile as he leans down and presses his lips to yours, softly at first before you eagerly chase his lips and he reciprocates, moving the hair away from your face and holding your neck with one hand and stroking your cheek with the other.

The kiss is full of passion but also slow and sweet, an addictive combination that tells you that you are done for. With another kiss on your forehead, Seokmin lets go, stepping away from you.

"Will I see you tomorrow morning or will you declare this as a drunk mistake and start hiding from me?" He asks cheekily.

You can't help a smile. "I will expect you to pick me up at 9 am sharp. We will have breakfast together."

You will take it slow this time.

"Whatever you wish," He flashes his beautiful smile, heading for the door. As he is about to close it behind him, he turns his head around. "Goodnight, ___. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, Seokmin."

Fast forward a couple of weeks later, you two moved out of the hotel and instead rented a small villa near the coast for an indefinite amount of time. You have no plans of going back home but you know that Seokmin's nature of work will require him to leave sometimes which you are fine with.

"So, I got an invitation to a seminar in London." Seokmins words jolt you out of the thoughts running in your head. "I don't think they are going to accept a no." He adds sadly.

"You don't have to say no." You reply. "Just go and attend it. Share your expertise with the world."

"Mhmm," he hums, looking at you in a contemplating gaze. "Would you consider coming with me?"

You blink. "Well..."

"It's a one-day seminar. We can stay a couple of days more and look around the city. It would be fun, I think."

You consider his words. It would be fun, actually.

You have no reason to hold yourself back from having new experiences now. You have punished yourself enough.

"It's a good idea." You reply with a soft smile that makes your boyfriend grin as he puts his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling your body closer to him. You let your head fall on his shoulder as you watch the sky grow dark.

No more lies now, it's just peace.

Your story that began with lies painted in red will end in red too, but this time the red will paint love.

A/N: Thanks for reading it till the end! I would like to apologize for the delay as this was supposed to be posted two weeks earlier but yk, life happened. The other two stories of this series are in the making but the next story will not be out before May. Also, I am planning on making a standalone for Jihoon's story which will not exactly be a part of this series but it's in the same timeline. It will be posted after all the stories of this series are completed. Anyways, stay safe and toodles!

Also, please leave a comment and reblog! It really motivates me to create more!

#seventeen #seventeen smut #dk smut #seokmin smut #dokyeom smut #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #dk imagines #dokyeom imagines #lee seokmin #svt fluff #svt angst #seventeen angst #mingyu imagines #seventeen x reader

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lucysstoryworld · 6 months

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The Veil Whisperer | Azriel x Reader (1)

Summary: The aftermath of Bryce Quinlan's arrival has stirred up some trouble for the Night Court. After weeks of trying to resolve the issues on their own, the inner circle of the Night Court are left having to consult a dangerous female to complete the job much to Azriel's dismay.

Themes: Love/hate relationship, enemies to lovers kinda.

Warnings: CC3 SPOILERS, NSFW from the get-go, canon-typical violence, angst.

No use of (y/n). I might have gotten some info wrong about acotar and can't double check bc I gave my friend my books so pls be aware of that. I would also massively appreciate any criticism! I'm trying something new and would definitely appreciate any pointers of any kind!

Words: 3620 | Part Two Here

Azriel stood before his High Lord and Lady, frustrated and exhausted. Irritation was rippling off him in waves, his shadows swirling as though there were snakes poised to strike. Azriel was poised as though he was going to strike. The fresh spring wind had melded into the sweltering summer breeze since he had last been in Velaris. Gods he wished he could sit on one of the many balconies of the River House, with a whiskey and book in his arsenal. The feeling of the sun on his wings, the sweet scent of Elain’s garden being pushed around by the wind and the faint sound of Nyx cooing close by felt like a dreamscape away.

“So there’s nothing,” Rhys stated, more than asked.

Azriel felt his muscles tighten and his fists close. More than anything, he felt the tiredness weighing on his eyes as he furrowed his brows. The actions were so slight that, to the normal eye, they would go unnoticed. But to Rhys and Feyre, the actions were as obvious as the sky being blue. “Not even a trace,” He started, reigning in his annoyance. “My spies have tried, their connections have tried, I’ve tried and I can’t even pick up a hint of a track.”

Azriel wished he could go back in time and make Bryce undo whatever it is she did to the Prison during her impromptu visit. Azriel had spent the last number of weeks cleaning up after her. Or attempting to at least. Azriel watched as Rhys assessed the weight of his words, observed as he and Feyre spoke mind-to-mind.

Feyre lifted her chin. “So what we are faced with is that this is not something we can resolve…” she looked hesitantly toward Azriel, trying to lay the words delicately. Feyre very rarely saw Azriel so wound up. There had been glimpses in the war, like when Elain had been lured away by the cauldron. But this was a different ball game. Bryce had stirred up Prythian in her desperate attempt to save her world. Feyre could not fault the girl for that, no matter the swagger Bryce flaunted. But, they had been cleaning up, Azriel had been cleaning up the chaos she left behind. “Not on our own at least,” She finally finished.

Azriel struggled to move past the feelings of failure with his High Lady’s words. Though his bones were aching, his wings seemed heavier and heavier with each tick of the clock and his shadows now swirling lazily as if they were the embodiment of his exasperation, Azriel couldn’t help like feeling he could have done more. Like he could dig that little bit deeper to give his brother and Feyre some semblance of information. Anything, if it meant they wouldn’t have had that slightly disappointed look on their faces.

Azriel did not acknowledge Feyre’s words, instead picking a spot on the wall behind both of them. A pawn, ready to be ordered to their next position. Rhys could see his brother recessing. He remembered the time he saw Azriel again after the first wars, that same demeanour being mirrored right before his eyes. “We will discuss what to do later. You’ve been gone awhile, brother. Rest for a bit,” Rhys declared, and rested a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. A sliver of guilt snaked up Rhys’s spine when Azriel seemed to deflate slightly, as though he was prepared to go back into the field if he was ordered to. Azriel finally met the High Lord’s eyes, a silent thank you and apology all twisted into the gentle nod. We are grateful, Az,he whispered into his mind.

With that, Azriel left Feyre’s study. Walking the halls, Azriel debated saying hello to the members of his family that were in the River House. One would think that he would have been excited to see them. Typically, he would have. Though, this mission was particularly gruelling and with no result, the thought of disappointing anyone else on that day was the very last thing he wished to do. So, Azriel stopped in his tracks and winnowed to the House of Wind. Usually, he flew home so he could enjoy the sight of his home after a long mission like this but, it was an effort to keep his wings from dragging on the floor.

***

Steam billowed in the grand bathroom, so thick it was hard to determine where the steam began and Azriel's shadows ended. The aforementioned Illyrian warrior breathed a silent thanks to Nesta and her power for granting the House a consciousness. The bath was already drawn with various oils diffusing into the air by the time he left his knives down in his room. Slowly, Az began to peel his leathers from his aching body. Bit by bit, the articles fell away revealing the constellation of scars mixed with tattoos. Azriel stood bare before the mirror, studying the reflection before him. His eyes skimmed and paused a different points, though they were sure to keep clear of his hands. Scuffs of mud clung to Azriel's legs from the trenches he had to almost wade through, along with a few almost-healed scratches he acquired that morning. A few past battle wounds decorated his torso, the newest being from the arrow that had pierced his chest the day Nesta and Elain were Made. Averting his eyes, Azriel focused on his face instead. As if just taking his eyes away could take away from his failures of that day. Failing his High Lady and failing each of her two sisters was something that would take a few more years to be at peace with.

Azriel admittedly looked like shit. His hair was much longer than when he left, and he had done a few rough chops in the time that passed. Darkness underscored his eyes, and his skin looked like it had aged a few decades, if that was even possible. Azriel lowered himself into the almost blistering bath. A sigh loosed from deep within his chest, relief prickling across his skin like wildfire. Stretching his wings out in the water, his muscles relaxed from the weeks of pent of frustration. Azriel scrubbed gently, almost massaging his worn out body. The lavender and honey soap clung to the dips and bumps of his body. Gladness was all Azriel could feel. Finally, he felt like he was home. No disappointment or worry, just the pleasantness and serenity that Velaris promised. Azriel supposed the only thing that could possibly complete this scene would be a loving mate, massaging his scalp with her soft luscious legs wrapped around him from behind. Maybe she would kiss his neck, or whisper how much she loved him in his ear. The thought sent a rush of blood between his legs, arousal beginning to cloud Azriel's mind. Azriel gripped himself and began to pump slowly, thinking of how her body would push against his back. His head rolled back as he imagined her soft tits against his wings, her nipples grazing against the sensitive area close to the base. Suddenly, his hands were hers. Her fingers would be wrapped around his cock, stroking away his tough day as she kissed and nipped at his neck. Closer and closer, she would take him to the edge of ecstasy, running her thumb over the head of his cock. Shivers rippled through Azriel's body as he neared completion, his toes were curling as he felt his head became light. His mate would begin to lick at the spot on his neck that drove him wild, and her other hand would reach to lightly caress his wings. The thought of the sensation sent Azriel careening through his orgasm, spilling into the water around him.

With laboured breaths, Azriel got out of the bath. While he needed release, it seemed to highlight just how lonely he was feeling. How he wished the cauldron had blessed him with Elain that day, instead of matching her to Lucien. But alas, like always, he was not worthy of such a fate. Drying off, Azriel heard a slip of paper land on the vanity nearby. A letter from Rhys. Padding over to it, it read that there was a family dinner that evening to celebrate his return and have a discussion with everyone over what to do. Confirming his attendance, because with his dear brother it was always a choice, Azriel let the paper vanish into thin air. Until then, he was going to crawl into the mass of satin sheets and plush cushions that were seemingly screaming his name.

***

Rhysand or Feyre must have brought everyone else up to speed on Azriel's mission before he arrived because no one had asked about it and they were already three courses into dinner. He momentarily caught Feyre's eye, questioning her with a single glance. His High Lady merely winked and smiled, then returned her attention to the cooing babe in her arms. Trust Feyre to take care of their family in ways they didn't know they needed. Azriel allowed himself to sink in to the idle chatter, striking up a conversation with Nesta and Cassian, who looked as though they were about to have a domestic.

"I'm sure you'll be able to hold your own against me in a couple decades, Nes," Cassian teased and looked to Az for backup.

Nesta caught the bothers' exchange and directed her cutting glare to Azriel. "Well?" She calmly demanded, though like always, there was a cool fury ready to strike.

The Shadowsinger raised his arms, "Maybe when you can reanimate a skeleton and kill a Middengard Wrym with it, then perhaps you'd be able to hold your own against her," Azriel quipped, earning a satisfied humph from Nesta. Cassian chuckled, squeezing his mate's shoulder.

Mor, in true Morrigan fashion, used the allusion to recent events to bring up the topic that had been looming in the air since Azriel arrived. "So... how do you think we should tackle the escaped prisoner issue?" She asked everyone. Everyone halted their conversation, waiting to see what the others came up with. Azriel dipped his head slightly, embarrassed at his lack of answers.

Rhys sighed deeply, his brows knitting together. He kept his eyes trained on his hand, which was currently being toyed with by Nyx. He studied it for a moment, wishing he could be as innocent and oblivious as his son. "I was thinking that there might be one person left who would have the knowledge to track them," Rhys started. He was unsure, not enjoying the idea of what he was about to suggest.

Azriel seemed to catch on and he couldn't help the scoff and eyeroll. Elain looked between the two brothers, "What?" She asked, wariness prickling down her arms. Elain had never seen Az so tired and irritable than this evening. It had to be bad, for Azriel to act so animated compared to his usual demeanour.

"Nothing," Azriel nearly spat, "It's nothing because we are not going to see her."

A collective realisation occurred across the original members of the inner circle, and more confusion within the Archeron sisters. Everyone's reaction was different. Mor frowned, Amren remained unsurprisingly indifferent and Cassian puffed a breath out of his cheeks. "Amren, will you explain please?" Feyre asked, clearly not in the mood for dramatics.

"The 'her' they are referring to is a female gifted with a magic long since purged from this world," Amren explained. "She is known in this land as the Veil Whisperer. The Veil Whisperer has been known to exchange services in return for hefty bargains, some of which has left those who have availed worse off than before they struck the deal."

"This sounds like it is ill-advised," Elain replied, rubbing her hands over her arms.

"It is ill-advised," Azriel affirmed, sticking Rhys with a hard glare.

Squaring his shoulders, Rhys did not yield. "Does anyone have a better solution?" He asked everyone, though his eyes remained on Azriel's.

"I hate to say it, Az, but Rhys could be right. We are in under our heads here," Mor added. "I don't like it either, but what other options do we have?"

"Why don't we ask our friends in other courts? Maybe Helion could offer us something we don't have?" Nesta questioned.

"We didn't tell any of the other courts about Bryce's arrival or what she did when she was here. We would have to explain that in order to explain why we are in this predicament." Cassian's words breathed a sense of awareness across the table. Of course they couldn't ask for help. Not without creating tension and distrust with their friends and fraying what little lines they had with other courts.

"So we are on our own in this," Elain began tentatively. "If we do attempt to solicit this Veil Whisperer, who's to say she will accept the job?" Azriel felt gratitude towards the middle sister for the support.

"Rhysand has only had dealings with the Veil Whisperer on a very limited amount of issues. Each time, her price is different than what she is typically known for," Amren's voice was unforgiving.

"I have only heeded her services a handful of times, for very specific reasons," Rhys told the sisters, Nyx's eyes began to lull as he nestled into his mother's chest. "I asked her to hide my mother's ring in a place that would be hard to get it out of."

Feyre's lips straightened into a line, and she met Rhysand's eyes, and damn... if looks could kill, the High Lord would be dead five times over. "I thought you put the ring into the Weaver's cottage yourself," Feyre stated, a slight hiss in her tone as her jaw clenched.

Cassian had to conceal his grin as Rhys looked at Feyre apologetically. "Not exactly," his brother began, and a barely muffled snort erupted from the general. "You remember that my mother wanted it to be a challenge. The only person I thought could be creative enough to hide it would be her... and I was right," Rhys explained and shot his brother a glare, returned only by a smug Cheshire smile.

"So you let this Veil Whisperer do your dirty work then." Trust Nesta to not pass up the opportunity to gain the upper hand.

Cassian outright cackled at his mate's criticism, "Nes has got you there, brother!"

"No, Nesta," Rhys challenged. Things had not been completely amicable between Rhys and Nesta since she gave away the Mask to Bryce. "I do not let her do my dirty work. Let's not join in on discussions you couldn't possibly have any understanding on."

"Rhys," Feyre warned.

The warning went unheard, as Nesta tipped her chin -- a tell-tale sign that she was about to enter battle. "No, what understanding could I possibly have. Surely no one else in this room has superior knowledge to their High Lord," She spat. Tension began to thicken in the room, like a fine soup. "Well, unless that 'understanding' matches your own. Gods forbid anyone truly disagree with you... Rhys." Nesta's eyes narrowed and when she saw her words had hit their mark, a smirk tugged at her lips.

"Well, now that we're totally off topic," Mor drawled. "Anyone fancy another drink?"

"She's right," Feyre sighed. Rhysand broke his staring competition with Nesta, anger coiling in his gut. "We need to make a decision on if we are going to approach her or not."

"What price does she typically demand?" Elain questioned.

"For my mother's ring, she demanded a specific tea." Rhys looked at everyone but skipped over Nesta. "I thought she took mercy on me. But no, this tea comes from a particular plant that grows in the Bog of Oorid, and happens to be protected by the Kelpies." Everyone looked reasonably put-off, Nesta particularly whose mate pulled her hand into his own. "Not to mention that it is poisonous in its plant form so I had trek back to the Whisperer's dwelling feeling like death warmed up."

Elain frowned, her mind trickling through her knowledge to determine which plant could have possibly debilitated the High Lord of Night. "She didn't tell you that it would do that?" Elain already knew her answer.

"No," Azriel finally spoke. "The Veil Whisperer is a master of manipulation. Everything that leaves her mouth has an ulterior meaning. Lies hidden within lies. You won't know the truth unless she wants you to. Not telling Rhys about the tea was her way of showing that she can down him in ways he would never even think of, without even a touch of her magic. She is a snake and jumping into this with her is stupid," He finished with a grunt.

"Have you ever seen her magic?" Nesta asked the table.

To the sisters' surprise, everyone shook their head. Nesta raised a brow at Amren, thinking out of anyone she would have seen it. "I do not enter into bargains with the likes of her," Amren stated as though it was obvious. "And I have never been in her presence. She does not participate in war, under any circumstances. Though I have heard that she works with other... deities. A rumour, but a dangerous one to float in these lands." Everyone remained silent at that little bit of information, not entirely sure on how to digest it, let alone comment on it.

"All this being said... I don't see any other viable option," Mor declared. The lack of argument was agreement enough.

"So how should we go about this?" Feyre asked. She hated instances like these. As High Lady, she should be able to provide solutions for her friends and family but her overall lack of old age inhibited her in these niche situations.

"The Veil Whisperer lives in the Middle. Azriel and I will go there tomorrow and ask her if she wants the job."

Before Azriel could even protest his involvement, Amren cut in, "She will want this job. She will gain information that she can work to her advantage, and that says nothing of her asking price. Tread carefully, boy." The warning was not taken lightly. Rhys dipped his chin, though his mind seemed a million miles away.

Feeling his social battery wearing quicker than usual, Azriel declined any offer of further drinking and decided to return to the House of Wind. Though he gave the excuse of being tired, which he was, he caught the look in Elain's eyes. The look that screamed that she could see right through the excuse. Whether it was her seer abilities or that she had come to pick up on Azriel's subtle giveaways, he was unsure. Feeling the need to fly off some of his stress, Azriel made for one of the balconies. Though the aforementioned middle Archeron sister followed him to the terrace. "You don't have to go. You can stay and talk, if you wish." The kindness and observation rattled Azriel's chest. He had never experienced a female be so attentive and caring toward him before. Not one he also cared for anyways.

His shadows began reaching for Elain, slithering and weaving affectionately. "Thank you, Elain. I'm okay for now, I will sleep it off. But I appreciate the offer." Well, it meant something to him but that didn't mean her gesture was enough for him to emotionally offload onto her.

Frowning ever so slightly, Elain's shoes clicked on the polished marble as she shortened the gap between herself and the Shadowsinger. Gingerly, she reached for his gloved hand and squeezed gently. "I hope you know that I truly mean that. There is nothing so severe that it should be shouldered by you alone."

Azriel brushed her cheek with his free hand, unable to stop the smile that tugged on his lips. "And I truly appreciate that, thank you Elain. Your kindness is beautiful, I truly hope it never pales." He said by way of a goodbye and backed away from her blushing face, stretching his wings. He could tell she wanted to stop him but he launched himself from the balcony before she had the courage to respond. Azriel felt like an ass, pushing her away when she was trying. He often found himself slipping under Elain's spell of sweetness and beauty, yet something in the back of his mind always reeled him back to reality. He desperately wished it wouldn't, he ached for the companionship both his brothers had. Though it seemed the Mother had different plans for Azriel... if she has any at all Azriel often thought to himself.

Azriel pushed all thoughts from his head and soared higher and higher, testing his limits as the air thinned around him and became harder to fly through. Up and up, closer and closer. Then, his wings stilled and curled around him. The descent was vicious, the earth was pulling Azriel down with a fury. The air whipped past the Shadowsinger, and finally, his mind felt empty. In that moment, Azriel was nothing more than a drop of rain from a cloud, falling from grace. Opening his eyes, the lights that dusted Velaris like golden glitter inched nearer. And just as they went from specks of stardust on the ground to discernible buildings and faelights dotted along the river, Azriel finally opened his wings and levelled off. Adrenaline coursed through his blood and finally shook the cobwebs that felt adhered to his bones. Azriel soared across the sky, allowing his thoughts and feelings to ebb and flow through him.

And when he eventually touched down, Azriel felt prepared for tasks laid out before him. Felt prepared to come face-to-face with the Veil Whisperer.

Part Two Here

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel angst #acotar azriel #morrigan acotar #cassian acotar #amren acotar #cc hofas #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #acotar fandom #a court of silver flames #nessian #elain archeron

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captainsophiestark · 7 months

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The Hard Call

Azriel x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Requeted by Anon! Nonnie, thank you for enabling me to write about Az and Flynn, I absolutely love you for it ❤️ Feel free to drop by any time you want to talk anything SJM-related! Hope you like this, and good news, I have a Flynn fic coming in the next couple days too!

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Summary: Azriel made the hard call when he had to, but he's feeling pretty guilty about it.

Word Count: 1,610

Category: Angst, Fluff

WARNING: House of Flame and Shadow spoilers below the cut!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I swore under my breath as Nesta jammed Ataraxia into the back of the Daglan, the Asteri, whatever it was called. Black blood spurted out of its mouth, but a moment later, the thing—Vesperus—pushed back against the tip of the blade and removed it from her chest. It shouldn't have been possible for something to survive a direct hit like that from Nesta and that sword, but a lot of things from the past few days shouldn't have been possible.

When a fae female had landed in a heap on the River House lawn in front of my mate, I knew we were in for some strange new challenges. But never in a million years could I have predicted the journey she'd led us on through tunnels apparently running all under the Night Court, straight into the heart of the Prison. And now we were facing down one of the most dangerous creatures in the universe, just me, Az, and Nesta, with the female Bryce as an unreliable additional ally.

I tightened my grip on my sword and tried to calm my racing heart as I stood shoulder to shoulder with Azriel. We'd gotten through countless life and death situations together before, but for the first time in a long time, I wasn't sure we'd be able to get out of this one.

Vesperus gave Nesta a horrifying smile as the wound in her chest quickly healed. I glanced to Az, but he kept his eyes locked on the monster before us.

"Ataraxia didn't work," Nesta breathed. "The Trove-"

"Do not summon the Trove," barked my mate. Based on what we knew about this thing before us, I immediately agreed. "Don't bring it near her."

"But-"

"Not even for our lives," he snarled, leaving no room for argument. The same harsh resolve solidified itself in my mind, and I braced myself for the possibility of a last stand. At least if we went down, it would be fighting side by side with my mate.

A flicker of shadows floating softly over my shoulders was the only indication that my mate felt the same. The Daglan grinned, and I got ready to pounce.

****************

Hours later, I sat slumped in my favorite chair in the Velaris townhouse, trying to recover from everything that had happened under the prison. We'd managed to kill the Daglan-Asteri, despite Bryce trying to question it, no matter the risk to our world. But she had gotten away in an impressive display of power, which meant her world's Asteri might have a chance at using her to find us.

Needless to say, when Az, Nesta, and I had made it out of the Prison, we'd had a lot to debrief about with the rest of the Inner Circle.

Nobody was happy about the situation we now found ourselves in, but for the time being, there was also nothing we could do about it. So once we made a basic plan to try to gather information and prepare in case something from that other world came back, we all split off for our separate tasks. Az still had a few things to go over with Rhys, but I was free for the time being, so I'd come to my favorite cozy spot in Velaris to try to come down from the insane adrenaline that had been pumping since Bryce got here.

One perk of Rhys and Feyre building the River House and Nesta keeping Cassian at the House of Wind more often was that the townhouse, my personal favorite location, was often free for Az and I to use as our own. I closed my eyes in my favorite armchair by the fire, still in my fighting leathers, and focused on taking deep breaths to try to get the tension out of my shoulders.

I'd actually almost managed to drift off to sleep when I heard the front door open and shut heavily. I didn't need to look to know Az had just arrived, so with a deep sigh to drag me back from the edge of sleep, I raised my head and turned to look at my mate.

"Everything figured out with Rhys?" I asked. He nodded once, moving into the room with a face like stone. I frowned, sitting up and paying a little better attention as he took a seat on the couch, his gorgeous hazel eyes never leaving mine. "What's wrong?"

A muscle in Az's jaw ticked, and I knew he was mustering a response to my words. Despite his reputation as the unreadable spymaster, all our time together as friends and then as mates had given me a leg up on everyone else who tried to read his expressions.

I stood from my seat in the armchair and moved to sit before Az on the couch instead, taking his hands in mine. His eyes searched my face, and I let a small smile work its way through the exhaustion, trying to put him at ease. He could take however long he needed to, and I'd be ready to listen when he wanted to talk.

"I'm... sorry."

I raised an eyebrow. "For what, exactly?"

That muscle in his jaw was working over time, the rest of his face the same inscrutable mask he'd worked so hard to perfect.

"For what happened in the Prison. For... being willing to let you die down there, rather than risk Nesta summoning the Trove. You deserve a better mate than that."

My jaw dropped, shock preventing me from responding for a few small moments. Az just kept staring at me, and even though his face didn't show it, I could feel the guilt eating him up at his core.

"Az, you have nothing to apologize for!" I finally managed. One of his eyebrows quirked up and he frowned, expressing doubt at my words without speaking one of his own. I huffed and squeezed his hands tighter.

"Listen to me, Azriel. The reason you are my mate is because you made that decision in the Prison. We both know that letting something like that into the world with a weapon like the Mask is an unacceptable option, as long as there is anything in this world we can do to prevent it. If the Daglan or the Asteri or whatever she was had gotten her hands on the mask, it probably would've cost the lives of everyone we've ever cared about, and the rest of this world along with it. Nothing is worth allowing that to happen."

Az ground his jaw, his gaze softening and his eyebrows furrowing as he continued to scan my face.

"Are you... sure? Cassian and Rhys... I think they'd tear the world to shreds for their mates."

I just shrugged. "For what? If the world is gone, if the cost of that choice is absolutely everything else, then what's the point of saving each other in the first place? We'd have nothing left, other than the blood of the world on our hands."

Az grunted, and I shifted closer to him, bringing one hand up to cup his cheek.

"Az. I love you, so much, and a part of that love is because you're not so selfish as to risk throwing the world away for me. Especially since, more likely than not, we'd be dead anyway not long after she got that mask. Neither of us is selfish enough to make a call like that, and I love that about us. The only thing that matters is that we stand together as long as we can, and I knew damn well in the cave that if either of us was going down, we were going down side by side, fighting to our last breath. Obviously I'm happy we both made it out of there, and I'm not saying we shouldn't fight for each other, but that call you made today? I'd be pissed if you'd made a different one."

Az studied me for another second, and I let him see every truth and emotion written in my face. Finally, he sighed, the tension going out of his shoulders as he reached out and pulled me closer to him, arms around my waist. I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and tangling my hands in his hair. We'd almost died today, and I wasn't about to take the fact that we were both still here together for granted.

"Have I mentioned lately how happy I am to have you as my mate?" Az asked, his voice a little gravelly as he leaned in closer to me. I smiled, leaning forward and letting my lips ghost over his own.

"Yeah, actually, you have. But I'll never complain about hearing it again."

Az smirked, then gently closed the last of that distance between us, his lips brushing softly against mine. I leaned into the kiss, eager for more contact, and I could feel Az's smirk widening right before I deepened the kiss. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me as tight to his body as possible, and I tangled my hands in his hair, letting myself get swept up in him.

I'd meant every word I'd said to my mate, about the choice he'd made and how I felt about it. But I was also incredibly happy it hadn't come down to the cost of our lives, and that we'd made it out of there together. And now that Official Night Court Business had been taken care of, I intended to fully celebrate and appreciate Azriel, and the fact that we were still here together. And I knew he intended to do the same.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

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secretswiftymarvelfan · 2 months

Text

Boston Bears: Off-Limits - Rugby Player!Chris x Reader (Part 6)

Summary: You go out on your first girls night since moving to Boston, but instead of a fun night out, you end up with the cast of Mean Girls

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Fluff! Angst! Talk of Nepotism! Slut-Shaming! Alcohol Consumption!

Rugby Explained

Dividers by Me!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 6

You sighed as you assessed your outfit in the mirror. This was the first time you were going out drinking in a very long time. Even back in LA, you didn’t go out often even though you loved dancing, your friend Tommi preferred chatty drinks so you often went out for a meal instead. So it had been a little while since you had gotten dressed up like you were now and it wasn’t filling you with the confidence it normally did.

You’d picked a sparkly black mini-dress which looked like the night sky. The last time you wore it you felt like a boss, like someone out of a fantasy novel that was a queen or high lady and commanded an entire court. Now it just felt off, you couldn’t stop fiddling with the hem and adjusting it. It felt like it was wearing you instead of you wearing it.

You nibbled your lip trying to determine whether you should change, not that you knew what you’d change into. You needed a second opinion, someone to reassure you that it was fine and not as bad as you thought it was.

You grabbed your phone, took a quick mirror selfie and sent it to Tommi, asking what she thought. You could have just face-timed her but you didn’t want her to do her empath superpower and pick up on how uncomfortable you felt causing a mini therapy session that you didn’t want right now.

Tommi: Looking hot! You’ll be pulling all the guys tonight!

You rolled your eyes knowing she meant you could pull someone other than Chris. You had told her about your agreement and how Chris definitely wasn’t like Bryce but she still wasn’t convinced.

Y/N: I’m not looking to pull anyone tonight, just a girl's night with some of the office staff

Tommi: well have fun anyway and stay safe, share your location and text me when you’re heading home

Y/N: will do, love ya wish you were here

Tommi: love you too, wish you were here

You smiled softly to yourself as you put your phone away and looked back in the mirror. You still didn’t feel like a boss bitch, but you felt better and more confident. You could fake it until you make it until then, plus you were already running a little late.

You grabbed your bag and did last looks in the mirror before making your way out of your apartment to go meet the rest of the girls. The bar you were meeting at wasn’t that far from your apartment, only about a twenty to thirty-minute walk, but the girls were already inside when you got there.

“Hey sorry I’m a little late” you smiled as you sat down at the bar table with them.

Sam gave you a smile that you could tell was insincere “No worries” she said as her eyes scanned your outfit “You look… nice”

You forced your own smile to hide your reaction from the backhanded compliment, noticing how the other girls were also assessing your outfit which was more out there than theirs “thought I’d bring some LA glamour to the east coast” you smirked as you flagged down a bartender to order a drink “love the east coast but I think it could use it”

Sam’s smile became more forced and tight as she gave you a quick nod “Right”

You flashed her a winning smile before turning your attention to the other girls, starting a direct conversation with them instead of Sam. She did an unimpressed huff which you caught but ignored, you knew the game she was trying to play and you could play it too.

An hour into the ‘girls' night’ you decided you needed a break from them. The conversation had become less awkward but there was still the air of animosity. Tommi came to your rescue though when you texted her asking her to call you.

“Oh I better take this, I’ll be right back,” you said sliding off your seat.

You didn’t wait for them to reply and walked straight to the door to step outside.

“Hey is everything okay?” Tommi asked as soon as the line connected.

You let out a long sigh “Yeah, just needed an excuse to get a break for a bit, I thought I’d left all the LA bitches in LA” you grumbled.

Tommi snorted “There’s bitches everywhere” she chuckled “What’s so bad about them?”

“Urgh well two of them are fine, Sophia and I’ve forgotten her name, but Sam is the queen bee and the problem” you explained.

“Oh, the peaked in high school kinda person?”

“Yup, instantly judged me as soon as I walked in, I don’t even know why she invited me out” you huffed.

“Maybe she just didn’t expect the medic to also be a sexy bombshell, those girls hate competition” Tommi suggested.

You laughed and shook your head “I wouldn’t say bombshell but maybe… I think I might just cut my losses”

“No don’t give in, you said the other two are alright so stick with them and you never know they might feel the same as you” Tommi told you “Remember when we found out we both hated the same person?”

You recalled that time in college and laughed, the two of you had been studying in the library when the popular know it all girl had swanned past making you roll your eyes before you could check your expression. Tommi had caught it but instead of calling you out on it she let out a massive sigh of relief and told you she found that girl just as annoying as you did. The two of you became inseparable after that.

“That definitely brought us even closer”

“Exactly so just stick it out for another hour or two and you might make a new friend, just don’t go replacing me,” Tommi said and you could practically see her pointing her finger at you.

“That’s impossible no one can replace you” you smiled.

“Exactly now go have some fun, you deserve it,” Tommi told you.

“Will do, love ya” you chuckled.

“Love ya!” Tommi shouted down the line before the call disconnected.

You slid your phone back into your purse before taking a deep breath of the cool night air. You could do this. You stepped back inside the bar looked over towards the table and decided you needed just a few more minutes so went to the bathroom. It didn’t seem like they cared, they didn’t seem to notice you hadn’t come back yet.

Inside the toilets, you only just shut the door to a cubicle when you heard the bathroom door open and three people walk in “Urgh I wish I hadn’t invited her, do you think we could sneak out before she comes back?” you heard Sam say.

“Oh um, I dunno she’s probably stood right by the entrance” Sophia muttered.

You held back your snort, you were much closer than they realised.

“Well, she’s clearly a slut” Sam scoffed “I mean did you see what she was wearing? She may as well have written fuck me on her forehead”

“I thought it was nice, it reminded me of-” the other girl whose name you couldn’t remember said before Sam interrupted.

“No it’s slutty” Sam fired “I bet she isn’t even a trained a medic and is just in the job because her dad is the coach, typically nepo baby”

Your fists clenched, it wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before. While it was getting better it was pretty unusual to be a female medic in the sports industry. But you worked damn hard to get your qualifications you did everything you could to make sure you were where you were because of your merits and not because your dad was a coach.

“Maybe” Sophia sighed “The guys like her though”

“Of course they do, she’s a female medic with the prime access to touch them up” Sam pointed out “I bet that’s why she decided to be a medic, she’s a slut who wants easy access to hot rugby players, I mean have you seen her with them, especially Johnny and Chris!”

That made your stomach drop. You were used to the other comments but the slut shaming and the insinuations were too much. They clearly didn’t know what was going on with you and Chris if they thought you were after Johnny too but did it really matter? It brought back the memories of what you hear in the LA changing rooms which made you feel sick.

Thankfully the girls didn’t stay in the bathroom much longer and you were able to step out of the cubical. You looked at yourself in the mirror and tried to see what Tommi saw but all you could see was what Sam saw. You bit your lower lip to stop yourself from crying, taking a deep and shaky breath.

You grabbed your phone and sent a text to Tommi ‘they’re all bitches and I’m going home, I’ll call when I’m home”

Chris let out a big yawn as he leant back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head “I think I’m gonna go into a food coma” he groaned, his belly completely full of food, some of which wasn’t diet-compliant but he was celebrating so it was fine.

Chris was out with Johnny, Jensen, Curtis as well as a few other teammates to celebrate Ari’s birthday. Since they had a match tomorrow they couldn’t go out drinking so had settled for a meal out. But they might have overindulged on food instead of booze.

“I don’t think I could eat another bite” Johnny complained as he put another spoonful of dessert in his mouth.

Chris snorted and shook his head at the winger. Things were good between them again now, Johnny had proved to Chris that he wasn’t gonna say a word and the team had been on a winning streak the last few rounds so Johnny was definitely right.

“I think I ate too much” Jake admitted as he wiped his brow “I might struggle tomorrow”

The rest of the guys all hummed in agreement, Curtis had a deeper frown on his face than he normally did.

“I dread to think how much this bill is gonna be” Ari sighed as he ran his hand through his long brown locks.

“We’re professional sportsmen, you can afford it” Johnny pointed out.

Ari shot him a look “Yeah rugby player, we’re not in the NFL or NBA” he argued “and some of us have other things they have to pay for besides fancy clothes and girl’s drinks”

Chris arched a brow at the nerve Johnny had seemingly unknowingly pressed, he wondered what it was that Ari had to pay for that meant he was more frugal than others.

“We’ll all chip in and cover it” Chris stated “It’s your birthday Ari, you don’t have to pay for anything”

Ari shook his head “No it’s fine I can pay” he stated.

“No it’s you’re birthday so we are gonna treat you aren’t we?” Chris argued sending a pointed look around at the rest of the guys who all murmured in agreement.

Ari still tried to protest but Chris made sure to take the bill from him when it arrived and ensured that everyone paid their fair share. Once the bill was paid the team made their way out to the fresh air.

“Thanks for that man” Ari said to Chris quietly as they walked out.

“No worries, it's not fair to pay on your birthday” Chris smiled as he clapped Ari on the shoulder.

“Thanks, it’s not like I couldn’t afford it, I just try to be careful with my money that’s all,” Ari said.

“I get it, don’t worry man, it's good to be frugal instead of materialistic, especially when our careers could be over tomorrow” Chris shrugged.

Ari snorted with laughter and shook his head “Great pep talk for tomorrow cap”

Chris threw him a lopsided grin “It’s what I’m known for”

“So what’s the plan, are we hitting a bar?” Johnny called out.

“Storm we have a match tomorrow” Chris reminded him, all of them already had one alcoholic drink they couldn’t go out for another.

“I know but it’s not late, we could still hang out” Johnny points out gesturing over his shoulders to the bars on the other side of the road.

Chris sighed considering it, looking across the road at all the bars they could head to. His attention was then taken by a short black shimmery dress. Chris’ lips parted as he watched you step out of a bar your head low, arms wrapped around your body tightly. You looked stunning, Chris felt an electric current run through him as he looked at you, the same one that he felt last weekend at the BBQ when he couldn’t help but seek you out to just get a kiss. But there was also something wrong, he could tell that much from here.

“Hey isn’t that Y/N?” Jensen said pointing across the street to where Chris was already staring.

“Yeah, looks like she’s alone, I’m just gonna go make sure she’s okay,” Chris said barely taking his eyes off you, watching as you walked away from the bar alone “Text me what you decide and I’ll catch up”

Chris didn’t wait for their responses before he checked there were no cars coming before jogging across the road. You seemed to be in a hurry because you had already gotten a good distance away from the bar. Chris had to keep jogging to catch up, something that didn’t sit particularly well with his full stomach.

“Hey,” he called out when he was close enough.

You instantly spun around, your eyes wide in fear. Chris held his hands up in a defensive manner as you breathed out a deep breath, hand on your chest.

“Jesus fuck Chris you scared the living daylights out of me, I thought you were a stalker or something” you scolded slapping him on the arm.

“Well you are the one walking alone” Chris pointed out.

You rolled your eyes “I’m fine my place isn’t that far, thirty minutes tops” you said shaking your head.

“A lot can happen in thirty minutes, you alright? You seem off” he asked noting how you had wrapped your arms tight around your waist again like you were trying to hide.

“Just a shitty night out” you sighed.

“Oh well we’re out celebrating Ari’s birthday, we were about to head to a bar I think when I spotted you, if you fancy joining us?” Chris offered nodding his head back towards the guys.

You glanced around him before shaking your head quickly “No I don’t think that’ll be a good idea, at least not right now” you said making Chris’ brows pinch together as he tried to work out exactly what you meant.

“No problem, let me walk you home then” Chris said but you shook your head again.

“No, no I’m good, you head back with the others,” you told him, turning to walk away before he even had a chance to argue.

“Whoa, hold up I can’t let you walk home alone” Chris said grabbing your arm to stop you from walking away.

You pulled your arm out of his grip and kept walking forcing him to follow “Chris please not now, I just want to go home” you sighed, your voice squeaking on the last syllable.

Chris’ brows pinched in concern, something was definitely wrong and he wasn’t gonna let you walk home alone if you weren’t okay “Okay but I can’t let you walk alone, I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened, you already thought I was a creep”

You paused, let out a deep sigh and closed your eyes taking a couple of moments before nodding your head “Fine” you muttered quickly walking on.

Chris nodded and fell into step with you, standing on the roadside of the pavement. He sent a quick text to Jensen to say he was walking you home before heading home himself. He shoved his phone and hands in his jeans pockets and looked over at you as you both walked in the direction of your apartment.

Ten minutes had passed and you hadn’t said a word. You just kept your eyes on the floor in front of you, your arms wrapped around your waist. This was the quietest Chris had ever seen you, it wasn’t a side he liked because it wasn’t right, it wasn’t you. The biggest indication he had that something was wrong was the quiet sniffles like you were stopping yourself from crying.

“What was so shitty about your night then?” he asked guessing this sad mood had something to do with it.

“I don’t want to talk about it” you muttered quietly.

“Did something happen? Was someone a creep to you?” Chris questioned starting to get more concerned.

“No it wasn’t a creep it was- it was nothing” you sighed shaking your head.

Chris' brows furrowed “Who did you go out with?” he asked.

“Just some girls from the ticket office, but I won’t be doing it again” you explained with a small scoff.

Chris scrunched up his nose and shook his head “Oh yeah they’re not the nicest, it wasn’t Sam was it? She’s so annoying” he complained.

Your head snapped up to look at him, Chris had to stop himself from smirking victoriously. He’d hit the nail on the head. He might not know the exact reason but he had a better idea.

“You don’t like her?” you asked him.

“Gahd no, she’s like Regina George” Chris scoffed.

Your jaw dropped and Chris had to stop himself from laughing because it was a cute sight “Do you just reference mean girls?” you muttered in disbelief.

Chris gave you a lopsided smile “I’ve got sisters remember”

You chuckled weakly “Well she definitely was a mean girl tonight” You sighed.

“That’s a shame, it’s not nice being around someone who's being mean to strangers for no reason,” Chris said shaking his head.

“It wasn’t strangers” you muttered under your breath, Chris wasn’t sure if you meant for him to hear it but he did.

He froze, putting his hand on your arm to stop you “Wait, was she mean to you?” he asked, anger prickling under his skin.

You opened and shut your mouth a couple of times before shaking your head “It was nothing”

Chris wasn’t gonna let you brush this off any longer “It clearly wasn’t, c’mon you can tell me, we’re buddies right?”

“Look they were really judgy of me and how I was dressed and a bunch of other things” you sighed waving it off.

“How you were dressed? Fuck you look amazing, you caught my attention from across the road” Chris said shaking his head in confusion.

You gave him a weak smile before turning to continue walking towards your apartment “Thanks, I was a bit overdressed though” you admitted.

Chris shrugged “No you weren’t you look like you’re out for a night out, if they thought you were overdressed then they were underdressed” he pointed out.

You let out a small chuckle “Guess I can’t fault that logic” you said.

“It’s a bit shitty that they said it to you though” Chris sighed shaking his head.

“They didn’t, well, not really, I went to the bathroom and they didn’t know and followed me in a decided to chat shit” you explained.

“What else did they say?” Chris asked picking up on the fact there must have been more said.

You let out a long sigh but remain silent. Looking over Chris could see your lips were pursed as if you were trying to decide if you wanted to tell him or how to tell him.

“They said I was a nepo baby and that I was only a medic so I could get up close and personal with hot rugby players” you finally said.

“What the actual fuck!” Chris exclaimed loudly “That’s utter bullshit, you’re one of the best medics we’ve ever had”

You let out a small scoff “Thanks but look don’t worry about it just typical slut shaming”

“No, I am because it’s not on and it’s clearly upsetting you! Do they know about us? Is that the problem?” Chris asked.

You shook your head “No she just said we were close, same with Johnny” you sighed.

“That’s good at least,” Chris said earning another small scoff from you “Look don’t listen to anything she or those other girls say, they’re just jealous because you get to hang out with us guys and we don’t like them enough to hang out with them, what they’re saying is just their insecurities projected onto you” he continued softly.

“I dunno” you sighed shaking your head.

“Trust me, we’ve all been subjected to Sam throwing herself at us at Christmas and end-of-season parties, if anyone is trying to get up close and personal with us it's her” Chris explained trying to suppress the shudder that passed through his body when he recalled the last Christmas party when she tried to grind her hips against him despite his efforts to get away “we like you Y/N all of us, which is why we hang out with you so don’t listen to them, you’re a badass who doesn’t need to worry about their opinions”

You stopped and turned back around to face him, your eyes damp as you looked up at him “Thanks Chris… it’s nice to know you’re on my side”

Chris put a comforting hand on your shoulder “it's nothing” he said before looking up and realising you were outside your apartment building “Are you okay now? I can stick around if you want”

You gave him a brave smile and shook your head “No I'm good thanks, you should head back to the guys, I said I’d call Tommi when I got in to talk about everything anyway”

Chris nodded trying not to look too disappointed. He didn’t want to leave you just yet, not just because you still weren’t 100% yourself again but because he just felt this need to be with you.

“Sure, well I’ll see you tomorrow at the game” he nodded.

“Yeah see you tomorrow, thanks for walking me home by the way” You smiled softly.

“It was nothing…” he said trying to think of something to say to allow him to stay a little longer but he couldn’t “See you tomorrow” he repeated quickly, giving you a quick hug before turning on his heels and heading back the way he came.

He didn’t go far though, staying just close enough to watch and make sure you got inside the building and the lights went on in your apartment. He stayed another moment more before letting out a long sigh and making his way home.

Chris climbed out of his car and brushed down his tie before moving to grab his kitbag from his trunk. There weren’t many fans here yet since the team met at the stadium a whole 2 hours before kickoff, but there were always a few dedicated fans who turned up early. Chris gave them a wave as he walked from his car to the team entrance, even stopping to take a couple of photos with young fans.

Once inside the building, he walked down the corridor that would lead him to the team’s changing room. He nodded hello to any other members of staff he crossed, including the team photographer who was capturing the team’s arrival. The only people he wouldn’t say hello to would be Sam and her other mean girls, but he rarely saw them anyway.

The one person he did want to see though was you. He just wanted to know you were okay after last night. You seemed better when he left you compared to when he found you but you still weren’t yourself. He hadn’t seen you yet though which wasn’t unusual but it still bothered him.

He walked into the team changing room, not everyone was there yet but there were a few. Including Johnny who walked over to greet Chris, shaking his hand.

“Hey Storm, you’re not usually here this early” Chris commented.

Johnny shrugged “Got ready earlier than usual, you missed a good night last night”

“Sorry to hear it, hope you guys didn’t go too crazy” Chris said with a pointed look.

“Nah don’t you worry, we kept it chilled” Johnny reassured him with a clap on the shoulder “Was she okay?” he then asked his voice low.

Chris nodded “Fine, bit of a shit night out that's all, she was with the ticket office mean girls” he explained quietly.

Johnny pulled a face “god no wonder she thought it was shit” he grimaced “but glad she’s okay”

Chris nodded “Me too” he sighed even though he wasn’t confident that you were okay.

Johnny clapped Chris on the shoulder once more before turning and heading back to his cubby. Chris walked over to his, dumping his bag and opening it up to pull out what he needed. His kit was already hung up by the kit manager, he just needed his boots and gumshield.

He was about to start getting changed but before he even managed to get his suit off he felt this urge to make sure you were okay. It was like someone had flipped a switch and there was this animalistic desire to find you, one that he couldn’t ignore.

He mumbled a quick excuse before walking back out of the changing room. He made his way straight to the medic room where he would find you. To his surprise you weren’t in there, one of the other medics was instead.

“Hey, everything okay? Do you need anything?” the medic asked as he packed his bag.

Chris shook his head “Uh no, just- no” Chris stuttered as he tried and failed to think of an excuse “Are the other medics on the field already?” he then asked.

The medic nodded his head “Yeah they’re just prepping the bench”

Chris nodded despite wanting to curse. He wasn’t allowed out onto the pitch until warm-ups which meant he wouldn’t get the chance to ask you if you were okay. He couldn’t quench his desire to ensure you were okay.

“Cool thank you” Chris said before turning on his heel and walking back out towards the changing room.

He would just have to get over it and get his head in the game. He couldn’t be distracted thinking about whether you were okay, he needed to focus on the game and just hope that you were.

He was halfway back to the changing room when he crossed paths with your dad “Ah Evans just the person I wanted to talk to” he said.

“Everything alright sir?” Chris asked.

Coach Y/L/N nodded before gesturing with his finger “Yeah follow me” he said.

Chris followed him down the corridor before realising he was heading towards his office. Chris mentally cursed, had your dad somehow clocked on to your little arrangement? Was that why he couldn’t find you, because you were in your dad’s office?

To Chris’ relief, you weren’t inside your dad’s office but that didn’t mean he was off the hook, he was desperate to ask what was going on but he kept quiet.

“Right, I just wanted to ask you about this” Coach Y/L/N said pointing down to a piece of paper which was a printout of an online news article from a rugby news site.

Chris took a closer look and cursed silently, it was a picture of you and Chris walking home together last night. The photo was thankfully completely innocent, taken before Chris managed to get you to open up. His hands were in his pockets and your arms wrapped around your waist. However, that didn’t stop the site from speculating whether you were Chris’ new fling.

“Oh, oh this is nothing, sir, I promise,” Chris said with a shake of his head.

Your dad arched a brow “it is?”

Chris nodded “Yeah I was out with the guys last night for a meal to celebrate Ari’s birthday, when we left we spotted Y/N leaving a bar alone so I said I’d go make sure she was okay and ended up walking her home”

Your dad nodded his head slowly “Right okay, and was she? She doesn’t look okay to me”

Chris sighed wondering how much to say “Have you spoken to her sir?” he asked instead, your dad shook his head in answer “Well she didn’t tell me much but she said she went out with some of the girls from the ticket office and it wasn’t as fun as she thought but she seemed better by the time I left her”

Your dad nodded his head knowingly “That’s reassuring to know, and I will ask to thank you”

Chris smiled at him “It’s nothing, I’m sorry we got papped and made it look like something was going on, I just wanted to make sure she was okay and got home safe, absolutely nothing between us we’re just friends” he said hoping your dad didn’t see through his white lie.

Your dad snorted “I should hope not, you know better than that Evans” he warned “But thank you, I really appreciate it the past few months haven’t been easy for her so it’s good to know she has people looking out for her over here” he said.

Chris felt his mouth go dry and his throat constricted at the not-so-veiled warning your dad had just sent his way. It was clear that your dad wanted none of the team dating you, there would be no exceptions. The warning wasn’t enough to put Chris off though, he couldn’t give up the electric feeling he felt when he was with you. The team was also on a winning streak and Chris wasn’t a superstitious man but he also wasn’t gonna risk it.

“Of course sir” he coughed “No need to worry about me… is there anything else you need?”

Your dad shook his head “No, just go out there and win”

Chris smirked as he saluted “Yes boss”

Chris made his way back to the changing room to prepare himself for the game. Despite everything Chris managed to get his head in the game with no issue at all. He felt ready to get out there and win. He was still worried about you but he could still focus, the two things weren’t mutually exclusive.

When Chris finally stepped out onto the pitch and saw you his worries were somewhat soothed. You seemed fine, okay even, but something was still different. It wasn’t something he could work out until the match started and he watched you jog on to help Johnny who needed some strapping on his knee.

Chris watched as you worked and saw the dynamic was completely different. Usually, you were all jokes and smiles as you worked but now you were straight face, you barely reacted to Johnny’s quips you just worked. You were being strictly professional.

You weren’t okay, what had happened last night was still playing on your mind and making you change the way you behaved. It pissed Chris off because you shouldn’t have to change how you acted around the team because of the opinions of people who really weren’t worth the trouble. Other people’s opinions shouldn’t matter full stop.

Chris decided that he wasn’t going to let this carry on any longer, as soon as this match was over he was gonna pay you a visit and build you back up until the opinion of Sam didn’t matter.

As it turned out though he didn’t need to wait for the end of the match. After completing a kick Chris felt a twinge in his upper thigh right by his hip. It was one that he would usually just play on for, it was one he could run off. But instead, he sat himself down on the pitch, wincing in pain waiting for you to come over.

“What’s wrong?” you asked once you jogged over to him, putting your medical bag down as you crouched.

“Twinge in my thigh, right here” he said pointing to the side of his thigh.

Normally you probably would have made some joke that included an innuendo but you just nodded “Okay let’s stretch it out, lie back and give me your leg” you said holding out your hand to catch his ankle.

Chris did as he was told, lifting up his leg ready to stretch. To lift it high enough and provide some resistance you lifted his ankle so it was resting on your shoulder. A smirk played on Chris’ lips at the sight.

He scratched his beard to hide his lips from sight as he said “You know it’s usually your leg on my shoulder, not the other way around”

Your eyes widened and he saw the ghost of a smile play at your lips “Chris” you hissed, no venom in your voice at all.

“I actually quite like the view, maybe you should be on top more” he smirked.

You shot him another look but he could see your defences falling, even if you were still desperately trying to act strictly professional.

“How are you feeling?” you asked him.

“Much better, you’ve got the magic touch” he grinned as he sat back up.

You let out a small snort and shook your head before passing him a bottle “rehydrate” you ordered.

He took the bottle from you and squeezed some water into his mouth. He watched as you packed your bag back up, your sight set firmly on the task instead of him. A mischievous grin grew on his face when an idea popped into his head. It was a dangerous idea but if it worked it would definitely bring back your smile.

While your attention was still on the bag Chris twisted the bottle around so when he squeezed it the water would squirt out at you instead of into his mouth. You clearly were paying more attention than you let on though as before he got the chance to squeeze the bottle you reached out, grabbed it and spun it back around the face him, the water squirting into his face instead.

Chris spluttered in surprise, but despite his plan backfiring it still worked as you were trying and failing to hold back a laugh. Chris grinned back at you and shook his head, water droplets running off his face.

“Nice try Evans” you smirked snatching the bottle back and putting it in your pack as you stood up.

You held out your hand to help him up which he gladly took “It worked though” he said quietly, you tilted your head in confusion “It got you to smile” he explained making your lips part in surprise “Don’t let the opinion of others stop you from being you” he added quietly before jogging off to go rejoin his team.

When he met his team in the huddle ready to give some instructions for the next phase of play, he spared a glance over to you as you jogged back off the pitch. A smile played on his lips as he spotted the one you hid with a bowed head. You might not be 100% fine but you were better and more yourself and that was all Chris could hope for. He’d work on getting you back to 100% later after he won this game.

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mirandasidefics · 9 months

Text

But Home is Nowhere- Chapter 2

Pairing(s): Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel x Plus Size Reader, Ruhn Danaan x Plus Size Reader

Chapter 2 Summary: Lucien and Rhysand argue over Reader's imprisonment, only one cell is traded for another. Lucien reaches out to an unlikely alley for support in getting Reader free.

Word Count: 6.3K

Warning(s): Mentions of injuries, mentions of self harm, mentions of body issues/insecurities.

A/N: I was too excited to wait the full month so here is part two a bit early! I apologize that this gets a bit dialogue heavy at the end. I may fix it later. This is going to be a long slow burn fic with a lot of angst. This will also have crossover with some of the Crescent City characters. It also probably goes without saying, but this will not follow canon past the events in HOSAB. Comment on this post if you want to be included on the tag list.

Series Masterlist

Previous: Chapter 1

Seven days. Seven days he’d been arguing and advocating for her release with Rhysand. For seven days he listened to the same rehearsed list of excuses as to why Rhys wouldn’t budge in his decision.

“You and I both know that the gate to Velaris was sealed with blood magic. Only those whose blood is linked to the seal can pass through, which she shouldn’t have been able to do. On top of that we don’t know what world she came from. I’m not risking the lives of my family-my court, which includes you- on what equates to no more than a hunch.”

While the High Lord’s statements were reasonable and valid points, his insistence she remained confined in that dark and dank cell was not. Lucien hastily made his way down the main steps that lead into the catacombs, thoughts of his last spat with Rhysand swirling in his mind.

“Why do you care so much about what happens to this woman?” Rhys had questioned. Lucien had asked himself the same thing; but how could he say that it was less about her and more about what she represented? That when he saw her cowering form in the corner of that cell, images of Feyre, Elain, and Jesminda flashed through his mind. He had failed the two sisters. He had failed his first love. He would sooner have the Cauldron blast him from existence should he fail to protect another innocent female. He’d kept his composure standing in Rhysand’s office at the River House long enough. A simmering rage permeated the space as the raven-haired male stared him down. A silent challenge in the already tense atmosphere.

“How can you stand your own hypocrisy?” He seethed, “You sit there thinking of yourself so high and mighty, yet a simple human frightens you? You allowed Feyre into Velaris the second week she spent with you. You allowed Bryce into your home within minutes of her crashing into our world. Yet this human…this woman scares you so much you have her imprisoned in one of the most dangerous areas of your court?”

“ENOUGH!” Rhysand bellowed, his own violet orbs simmered with rage. Lucien felt his flames rise up and encircle his palms. Rhysand’s High Lord command held no sway so he continued.

“Are you that much of a coward that you could not have just asked her a few simple questions? You couldn’t have just looked into her-”

“I could not enter her mind!” Rhys’ breaths were ragged. “Something is protecting that mortal, and it is strong enough to keep me out. So long as those shields of hers remain impenetrable I cannot trust her. I must keep my mate and child safe.” Lucien scoffed, his fire dwindled. “Which is not something I can say I see you doing for your own.”

Lucien could still feel the cracking of bone and cartilage of Rhys’ nose as it connected with his fist. The argument surly would have resulted in them demolishing the entirety of the business wing had Azriel’s arrival not stopped the two males in their tracks. The Shadowsinger’s haggard appearance set them both on edge, but his words allowed Lucien to breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’m done with this Rhys. I cannot keep hur- I cannot do this… she knows nothing.” The High Lord merely looked between the Emissary and the Spymaster. Expression relaxed and revealing nothing, even as blood dripped over his lips.

“Bring her up to the Moonstone Palace,” the commanded was towards his brother, “Since Lucien is so smitten with the woman he shall remain with her there for the time being.”

Lucien soon found himself outside of her cell. Only darkness and cold emanated from beyond the door. He paused his own breathing, wondering if she was even still alive. The last time he saw her, she hadn’t hesitated to slice open her own skin. Azriel wasn’t far behind and pushed past Lucien to enter the room. Lucien’s breath remained caught in his throat as he took in the mangled sight of her.

You had no idea how long you’d been in the darkness of your cell. Hours had turned into days, but just how many days you weren’t sure. You had gone silent on what you assumed was the third day. You knew nothing of how you got there, and you had no idea where to begin when Azriel-who’s name you gathered early on-asked you about the world you came from. Its not like he would believe you if you said your world had no magic, at least not in the same way it was here. Then again, that was clearly an incorrect assumption on your part. And after everything that has transpired you determined that this was no dream. It was a nightmare come to life. You weren’t sure how much more your psyche could tolerate. Surely death would be better than the horrors that would plague your mind for years to come if you were allowed to live. You prayed silently to whatever deity would listen to let you die. You started as the metal hinges of the door screamed into the darkness.

“Mother above,” The horrified yet soft baritone drifted to your ears and you strained to open your eyes. You recognized the voice and Lucien’s warm body was immediately next to yours as you dangled from the ceiling. The male made quick work of the metal shackles holding your wrists high above your head, a bright light flooding the small space making you hiss. His large hand encircled your wrist and you could feel the skin repair itself. Lucien slowly lowered your arms down.

“Her name is (Y/N),” Azriel’s voice was barely above a whisper, as if he was ashamed of the space his normal speaking voice would take up in the small cell. As if what he said would break you further. Lucien held you up, warm hands around your rib cage holding you steady.

“(Y/N),” His testing of your name tentative, “(Y/N), my name is Lucien…I’m going to take you out of here.” His arms wrapped around you, and you could have sworn you felt your skin get warmer, the cold melting away like ice. His grip never lessened, which you were grateful for as you weren’t sure your legs could fully support your weight.

“Do you feel safe enough to come with me?” You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move your head in agreement. Couldn’t specify that you felt safe with him. You could only muster enough strength to cling to the front of his shirt, hoping it conveyed your trust towards him and him alone. Your eyes burned with tears. He shushed you as one of his hands rubbed up and down your spine. A footstep echoed in the chamber, and then you felt Azriel’s shadows attempt to wend their way over your bare feet. Your flinch was followed by a low warning growl, one that you felt more than heard.

“Follow me,” Azriel’s swallow was audible.

“Can you walk?” Lucien’s hand lowered to your waist, pushing you back far enough so he could meet your eyes. They felt swollen and your vision was unfocused and hazy, but you tried to keep them open so he could see that you would try your best. You shifted your weight back onto your heels and slowly slid your right foot in front of you. A lightning like bolt of pain traveled up your leg. Air harshly sucked into your lungs.

“I’ve got you,” his voice was reassuring as he continued to support most of your weigh in his arms. You took another step forward. Then another and another. His hands never faltered from their place on your torso as he moved himself to walk behind you. Ready and poised to keep you balanced and catch you should you fall. “Good girl,” he praised, “Let’s get you cleaned up so I can heal you yeah?”

The walk up from the catacombs to the palace proper was brutal. Your legs burned from the muscle strain and you were regretting not accepting help from Lucien while you bathed. However, the last thing you wanted was to have anyone see you naked. Lucien had helped enough with getting the large sunken in bathtub filled. The scent of vanilla and lavender contrasted with the grime and dirt that filled your lungs for the last week. You had specifically asked for the water to be scalding, wanting it to burn away the memory of everything that had been done to you in the dark. The deep cold that laced your bones was finally seeping out in the hot water. A soft knock rapped on the stone archway leading into the bathing chamber. Unable to move your neck freely you covered your chest and turned to face the male. He walked over to the bench set near the tub, a bundle of cream-colored fabric in his arms. Unless it was a bedsheet you doubted that any clothing he found would fit you. Then again, magic existed so its possible that the fabric could be altered instantly. He sat on the bench and set the garment next to the towel that awaited you.

“Are you certain that I can’t be of assistance?” He looked beyond you towards the open windows that overlooked the absolutely stunning expanse of wilderness below the palace. A darkened city jutting out from the base of the mountains the only thing that disrupted the sight. You were thankful for Lucien’s offer. Truly you were, and despite the feeling-knowing- that you could trust the male, your self-conscious nature surrounding your body was too strong.

“I-” You cleared your throat of the gravel you were certain had lodged itself inside from screaming against the rocky surface of your cell, “I’m good.” The vibration of your vocal chords felt like sandpaper as they rubbed together. He looked at you then and reflexively you squeezed your arms tighter around yourself; gripping your elbows as you dipped down into the water until everything below your neck was submerged. You were grateful for the tub size making you look small. It could easily fit two full grown adults and deep enough to reach your waist when you stood to full height. It almost reminded you more of a jacuzzi rather than a bathtub.

“Then I’ll leave you to bathe in peace,” He stood and clasped his hands behind his back, “I’ll be in the room just beyond these arches. Just call our if you need anything. I’m here to ensure that you’re taken care of.” You nodded your understanding and turned towards the side of the tub lined with soaps and lotions, his foot steps retreating against the stone tiles. While you had difficulty with your range of motion, you managed to rid yourself of the dirt, grime, and dried blood from your skin. Your hair felt silky, soft, and light compared to the heavy oily mats from not washing it for a week. You had also found a razor nearby and took the opportunity to shave, savoring the feeling that you were becoming a person again. Drying off was easier with the relaxed muscles. The vanilla scented lotion felt like heaven as it penetrated your dry skin. You surmised that the bath had really only removed one layer of nightmares as you scanned your form in the mirror on the opposite wall. Your eyes first saw the plethora of cuts in every size cover the expanse of both your arms, shoulders, and collar bone from the dagger-Truth Teller-that Azriel had used during your interrogation. Next you took in the dark red and purple bruise on the left side of your jaw. The discoloration spanning from the joint below your ear to your chin. It was a miracle that he hadn’t knocked any of your teeth out or broken your jaw from the force he hit you with. Eyes trailing further down you saw a second healing bruise, its blue-green hue spanning the length of your ribs on the right side of your body. Laying down on your side was going to prove difficult still. Finally, your eyes landed on the only injury that you yourself were responsible for. The shadows had played too many tricks on your mind, too many whispers promising to break you. The psychological and emotional pain was worse than the physical injuries and honestly became too much for your soul. Something in you broke. You still couldn’t figure out exactly how you managed to grab Truth Teller from him, too focused on plunging the black blade into your left inner thigh and dragging it along the flesh. You couldn’t reach your throat, so you had been aiming for the next major artery you knew of in the hopes that you’d bleed out fast, but Azriel was quick. His attempt to get the blade back from you pushed it away from where it would do the most damage. That was the last day that Azriel brought any form of weapon with him, and the last day he put his hands on you. Rhysand had only managed to stop the bleeding, but a large and deep jagged slice remained. Had you paid more attention you may not have doubted the guilt that lined his features as he worked to heal you. You didn’t want this to be real. You still held out hope that if you somehow managed to end your life you’d wake up on the cold concrete of the path leading up to your front door. You didn’t belong here.

You shook the memories from your mind and picked up the fabric on the bench. You expected the intrusive thoughts and nightmares, but you didn’t think that they would be plaguing you so immediately. You slipped on the airy cotton tank top and loose-fitting matching shorts. You were indeed surprised they fit as well as they did, let alone fit at all. Your bare feet padded along the cool stone floor and entered the massive bedchamber. The room encapsulated a warmth with its cream and ivory base colors. Splashes of blues, teals, and turquoise giving it a calming effect. The dark cherry wood of the four-poster bedframe provided an interesting accent color adding to the space. Lucien sat on an ivory colored couch that faced a white marbled fireplace. Sadly, the flames did nothing to help illuminate the space and only seemed to cast heavier shadows. You glanced around the room again and noticed that the bedsheets had been turned down for you, for whenever you were ready to sleep. But you knew you wouldn’t be able to get any real rest with your injuries being what they were. Rhysand had only stopped the bleeding in your thigh. He did nothing for the other injuries. So, Lucien stated he would heal those for you. Carefully walking over, you sat your self on the couch, keeping enough space for another person to sit between you and the crimson haired male. He turned towards you with a slight smile that quickly faltered as he took in your appearance. He moved closer towards you and examined every inch of your skin. His one real eye held no warmth even as a flame seemed to ignite the iris. He took your chin in his hand to get a better look at the bruise on your jaw. His touch was gentle, but even you could tell that the male was furious with what he saw.

“I had hoped some of this had been dirt,” He turned your head to the side, a finger tracing down along the side of your neck. A metallic scent permeated the air as the hand cupped the left side of your face, covering nearly the entire bruise. His gaze slowly traveled down to your shoulders and the cuts that littered and marred the skin of your arms and shoulders. The skin warmed and tingled under his gentle caress. His eyes paused at your torso, no words needed to understand that he wanted to see the injury to your ribs. You carefully gathered the material and lifted as high as your stiff shoulder and neck muscles would allow. His fingers traced the outline of the mark, and you cringed at the touch of his hands moving your fat rolls out of the way so his palms could lay flat against the skin. Embarrassment colored your cheeks. Lucien continued his healing wordlessly. He motioned for you to stand, grasping your calf and propping your leg on the cushion of the couch. Your inner thigh completely exposed to him allowing the full extent of your wound to be seen. You watched as skin healed almost instantly. His gaze then shifted to the healed scars on your upper thigh, near the junction where it met your hip. “Um…y-you can leave those,” you brought your leg back down to stand before the male, “Thank you Lucien.”

“You’re most welcome,” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. You started to pick at your already blunt nails, a nervous habit you used to ground yourself. You glanced around the room for the third time, almost not believing that you were no longer in the cold and dark. The white walls and bedding opened up the space.

“Is…is that for me?” You pointed over towards the massive bed covered in decorative pillows. Lucien’s red hair swayed with the movement of his head as he followed your gesture.

“The bed is for you,” He stood and walked over to the small bedside table to the left of the headboard, “As is this sleeping draft.” He picked up a deep cobalt vial, giving it a slight shake before setting it back down. You hummed and nodded, but didn’t move from your spot in front of the couch. It went without saying that the potion would be needed after what you experienced over the past week. And you would only feel guilty if you woke him in the middle of the night.

“There’s water for you as well,” His voice softened as he noticed your hesitation. You chewed on your lower lip. The sun was still up, but you didn’t know how its position revealed the time of day. Depending on the time of year and how far north, or south, on the planet you were, you estimated it could be anywhere from 3pm to 9pm. You supposed it didn’t really matter as sleep was sleep and you’d likely remain unconscious for several hours, Gods willing at least.

“I will be in the room next to yours,” He pointed over to a door opposite from the entrance to the bathing chamber, “If you need anything, anything at all you come to me. We’ll get you some food in the morning.” You nodded again as your eyes started to water. You didn’t want to be left alone, but you also didn’t want to take up his time more than you already were. So, wordlessly you forced your feet to move and made your way over to the bed. You crawled in under the blankets that had been moved aside. You grabbed the vial from the bedside table and uncorked the stopper. The scent of chamomile, lavender, and something unknown wafted to you. Before you gave yourself time to reconsider you downed half the contents and set it back down. Lucien was patiently waiting at the door and smiled his first genuine smile towards you.

“Goodnight (Y/N).”

“Goodnight Lucien.”

Lucien had answered all your questions, to the best of his ability, during your first day in the Moonstone Palace. He filled you in on the basics of the Night Court and Prythian. For each bit of information he provided about the land or himself, you matched it. He also informed you that while here, Rhysand insisted that you work on finding any potential information of your world and how to get back to it in the texts that he sent. A new stack of books was brought into the small library within the palace every morning. So far, your hours of reading yielded no results. Then again, you could only read a fraction of the texts given to you. Most were in languages that you couldn’t even begin to understand. Still you scanned the tombs for any words that even looked remotely similar to names of places within your universe. Sadly, all you could find was information related to a Midgard, which was frustratingly NOT the same as the mortal realm described in Norse mythology. Lucien then explained that they had already received visitors from this Midgard that were set to return to Prythian soon. You had gathered that one of them was Bryce, but you’d not been given names for anyone else.

In addition to the books you had also been gifted a small wardrobe filled with clothing in your size. It had been awkward when the half wraiths appeared to measure you. But you were provided with some simple dresses, pants, shirts, and under clothes. Nothing fancy, which you were grateful for. Lucien explained the clothes were an apology gift from Rhysand. You told Lucien that if the High Lord was truly sorry he could at least express as much to your face. You couldn’t complain in the grand scheme of things. Rhysand wasn’t obligated to house, feed, or clothe you. He could have easily dumped you in the Mortal Lands, leaving you to fend for yourself. Although, Lucien stated that he knew of two people that would have taken you into their care. Regardless, you did as Rhysand bid, reading for hours day after day and never asked for anything in particular.

Another two weeks went by and you and Lucien developed a little routine. Breakfast followed by hours of research. Then lunch and various exercises and tests to determine if you held any sort of latent magic. Lucien explained that his initial assessment of you that first day showed nothing, but that didn’t mean you were completely without power. Truth be told you felt he was keeping something from you. Then came dinner, after which you were free to spend your time however you wished. Mostly you spent time on the veranda studying the night sky, letting the wind caress your face and hair. There was one night you swore you heard voices held within the breeze. A song encouraging you that you would find peace again. In your world the night time hours used to provide a comfort, but here there was nothing familiar about the constellations that dotted the dark sky above. Instead, the lack of familiarity just made you feel all the more alone. It wasn’t that Lucien wasn’t good company, you just felt bad that he was stuck with you. He tried really hard to get you to relax and fall into the playful banter he likely needed to survive his own punishment. While he never said as much, you had gathered that his babysitting duty was linked to your release and apology from the High Lord. Lucien made your days easy, filled with witty remarks and a warmth that felt natural. An easy friendship had definitely taken root.

However, the nights were hard. You already suffered from extreme insomnia without the added fear of night terrors. So, your sleep cycle was suffering greatly. The first two nights were dream less thanks to whatever Lucien had given you. But the third night resulted in his bursting through the doors of your bedroom at the sound of your screams. As much as you hated yourself for feeling weak, you begged him to stay in the room. He obliged, of course, and slept on the couch. His presence helped slightly. It didn’t chase away the nightmares, but it did make the darkness that permeated the night more tolerable. You had never been fearful of the night before, having even preferred it to the hustle and bustle of the day. You had always the quite of the night to bring you a comforting serenity. But since your time in the cell…you insisted on a fire in the hearth and the faelights to remain lit, believing the light would chase away the shadows that plagued your dreams.

You felt bad forcing Lucien to sleep on the couch. But you also didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable if you offered to share your bed with him. He told you about his mate, Elain, and you felt even worse that your arrival took him away from her. Even if he explained that their relationship wasn’t what would be expected between mates after nearly 4 years of being in each other’s lives. So, you kept the offer to yourself.

Today started out like any other. Lucien and you sat down to a breakfast of eggs, toast and jam with orange juice. You never really cared for tea and coffee appeared to not be available in Prythian if your companion’s confusion was anything to go by. The only difference today were the two additional place settings.

“Are we expecting visitors?” You asked. You immediately wanted to kick yourself for asking what was an obvious question.

“Yes,” Lucien answered, pouring a cup of tea for himself, “I’ve asked some people to come and meet you. As much as I enjoy our time together, it seems that the High Lord still needs convincing that you should not be kept in a cell.”

“I’m not in a cell,” You countered. However, you didn’t miss the fact that his glare told you that your new cell was just a lavish one.

“Our guests may be able to help me make a stronger case for you to be able to move freely about the court, if not Prythian as a whole.” You pondered who he would have contacted. To your understanding, not many members of the High Lord’s “Inner Circle” particularly cared for the emissary. There was also no way that members from another court would be able to hold any sway over the inner workings of the Night Court.

“So, what do they need to know about me?” You asked, spiking the yoke of your egg. In the time spent with Lucien you were able to be yourself for the most part. You held back on your swearing, meme related jokes, and slang, but tested out your sarcasm and dry humor. One of the main things you were worried about was how to speak with others. While you had manners, you had no formal etiquette training. Something that Lucien found utterly hilarious when you asked for clarification on how to address him.

“Relax, its an informal introduction,” His gentle smile reassured you, “Just be the sweet girl that I’ve come to know.” His smile widened. You gave him a doubtful look, tucking your lips into a thin line to suppress a laugh. He batted his irritatingly long eyelashes and the two of you broke out into a fit of laughter. While you weren’t cold or bitchy by any means, you also weren’t a sweet and demure woman either. No, Lucien quickly pointed out that you had a fire within you…at least on your good days. The laughter was cut short by the sound of a thud in front of you on the stone patio. Your eyes immediately tracked the large bat like wings and you stood from your seat. Metal and glass clanged against the stone as your thighs hit the lip of the table. Your chair knocked to the ground, causing you to nearly trip as you backed towards the metal railing. Blood rushed in your ears and your vision started to tunnel. Lucien was next to you in an instant.

“Hey. Hey," He gripped your right shoulder to keep you steady, “Shh, it’s okay. It's not him. You’re safe.” Your gaze remained fixed on the unknown winged male that looked on with worry etching his features.

“See what you did,” the voice of the female he’d been carrying was distant in your ears. Lucien’s other hand cupped your face, forcing you to turn towards him.

“Eyes on me (Y/N),” He encouraged, “Breathe. There you go.” Your eyes focused on his features; the jagged scar-raised and tight, the deep reds sprinkled amongst the warm honey brown iris. Your breath evened out, and you covered the hand on your cheek with one of your own to let the red head know you were okay. You took another breath and released Lucien. However, his hand remained on your shoulder. You turned back to the couple that stood on the opposite side of the space. At first glance, the winged male held features that you noted were similar to Azriel in regards to skin, hair, and eye color. Although, Azriel’s held more flecks of green than the honey gold of the male before you. The unnamed male was taller and broader, his shoulder-length hair softly jostled in the breeze. Your eyes wandered over to the female that was with him. Her striking blue-grey eyes would have reminded you of steel had it not been for the soft sadness that shown in them at your display. You hadn’t expected to react in the manner you did. Your heart still hammered in your chest. You cleared your throat and smoothed down the front of the simple sage green dress you wore.

“I-I must apologize,” You started, “I guess I…sorry.” You wrung your hands together and looked at your feet.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the female spoke up, "It’s this idiot’s fault. We should have given you a warning.” You nodded slightly in acknowledgment. Lucien’s hand trailed down your arm to your hand. He gave it a quick and gentle squeeze before he bent down to pick up the chair you’d knocked over in your haste to get away.

“(Y/N),” He motioned for you to sit back down, “This is Cassian, the General of the Night Court’s Illyrian army, and Nesta Archeron, Valkyrie, sister to the High Lady and fellow emissary.” Lucien gestured to each as they took their own seats across from yours.

“It’s nice to meet you,” You reached across the table, your hand extended to shake theirs. When neither returned to gesture you pulled back. “Sorry, I’m used to hand shakes as a form of greeting in my world.”

“So, you are from another world?” Cassian asked, scooping some eggs onto a plate and handing it to Nesta.

“Yes, we call it Earth,” you searched the table for a spare fork, yours having fallen to the ground. When you couldn’t find one, Lucien handed you his. You raised your eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged and began to spread a blackberry jam on his toast. “And before you ask, there is no magic, at least not the same as what you’re familiar with. Also, creatures such as fairies-the Fae- shapeshifters, vampires, mermaids, nymphs, and so on - are all non-existent. Just stories that have been reduced to myths.” The two regarded you closely, listening to your spiel. When they didn’t say anything you continued, too nervous to allow silence.

“I’m not sure how I got here. There are stories of humans traveling through portals into the realm of the Fae or other worlds, but they are simply stories. Ones made to keep children out of trouble or explain natural occurrences. All prior to finding scientific explanation, of course. Like the changing of the seasons,” You realized you were now rambling, “or fairy rings-rings of flowers or more often mushrooms…” The three non-humans stared at you.

“Don’t Lu,” you warned as the corner of the male’s full lips ticked up, “Yes, I talk when I’m nervous. Yes, I’m nervous because I really don’t know how I got here. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t understand why…I just…want to go home.” Lucien took your hand in his again, his grip reassuring and comforting.

“That’s what we’re all working on,” He assured, “There is a library that, should we manage to convince Rhys-”

“Wait, she can’t leave here?” Nesta interrupted, her eyes blazed. Cassian tensed in his seat and gave Nesta a warning glance. It was clear that not everyone knew of your predicament.

“She’s restricted to the East Wing of the palace,” Lucien clarified, “There are barriers up that she can’t pass through. Just like what Tamlin did with your sister.” If Nesta had been upset before, she looked down right lethal now. Of course, Lucien had filled in you in on what transpired with Feyre and his former home in the Spring Court. Cassian cleared his throat, his gaze falling to the other male.

“What is it you need from us exactly?” He looked to you, seemingly trying to figure out why you posed such a threat that you required to be locked away.

“I need your voice in your High Lord’s ear. I have no magic, and we’ve tried various ways to test that out.”

“Which you’re welcome to see,” Lucien interrupted.

“Yes. I don’t really know how to use a weapon, nor do I have much interest in doing so. And, as I already mentioned, up until a month ago I firmly believed that yo-the Fae were not real.”

“What did my brother say his reasoning was for holding her here?” The question was directed towards the other male.

“He can’t enter her mind.” Cassian’s surprise was not well hidden, “He believes that something or someone is guarding her-” It was your turn to interrupt your friend.

“If I was being guarded or protected, then whatever was responsible has already failed me,” Your voice was soft. A silence fell across the table, and most of the food had grown cold. You didn’t know what else to do or say to convince the General and the Valkyrie of your innocence. All they had to go on was your and Lucien’s word. Even if you were to demonstrate the exercise that Lucien put you through each afternoon with no results, how would they believe that you weren’t just pretending. A ruse to fool them. You desperately tried to quell the pinpricks of tears behind your eyes. You feared that if Lucien’s efforts failed you’d be sent back to the catacombs or worse left to rot on that-

“(Y/N),” Nesta’s clear and calm voice cut through your thoughts, “I’d like to hear more about where you’re from.” You nodded.

“What would you like to know specifically?”

“Let’s start with you. Your family, your up brining.” She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed comfortably in her lap. You swallowed and nodded again.

“I can do that.” You spent the next few hours pouring every detail of your life to the trio. Most information Lucien already knew, some he didn’t. You talked about your family and your friends. You briefly talked about your work and academic studies in music. This caught the oldest Archeron’s attention, which launched a discussion regarding your dissertation topic. The two males excused themselves as you continued to talk with Nesta. The topic changed to books and Nesta promising to bring you some of the spicier romance novels that she found to enjoy the most on her next visit; to which you were grateful as you desperately needed a reprieve from only reading books provided by Rhysand. Cassian and Lucien eventually returned as you made a raunchy joke that had you and the female High Fae laughing loudly.

“It’s time to go Nes,” Cassian set his hand on her shoulder. He looked to you and smiled. The expression was genuine. After spending the few hours you did with the male, you had concluded that he was much less frightening than the other Illyrian. At least for the time being, that is. Nesta rose from her seat and joined her mate.

“I will speak with my sister,” She told you, her features hard with determination, “It’s not right that you’re kept any where against your will when you’ve done nothing to justify imprisonment.”

“Thank you,” You smiled, “I hope to see you both again soon. I’m certain this fool is getting tired of having to entertain me.” You gave the male a wicked teasing grin. Cassian let out a booming laugh as ‘your fool’ placed his hand to his chest in mock offense.

“And here I thought you loved my company,” He stated. You laughed as you stood to join him at the patio entrance.

“Yeah, yeah,” You brushed him off, the smile still plastered to your face. The two of you said your goodbyes and watched as the guests flew off in the distance.

“I think that went rather well,” you looked to Lucien, “Don’t you?”

“Yes, it did,” He held his arm out for you to take, “Cassian agreed to speak to Rhys. He said that he and Nesta would allow you to stay in their home or at least help you get in and out of the library.” You hummed in response as you slipped your arm around his. Your mind wandered, and you felt lighter than you had since you’d been here. He walked you to your room and began prepping the couch to be his makeshift bed for the evening. The sun was quickly setting, and you hadn’t noticed that you spent the entire day talking. You paused near the entrance to the bathing chamber.

“Lu?” he hummed, looking up at you while shaking out the quilt. “Thank you, for everything.”

“Of course, sweet girl,” You rolled your eyes at the term of endearment.

“That’s sticking now isn’t it?” His russet eye brightened with mischief.

“Now that I know it irks you, yes.” You leveled a glare at his to which he just laughed. You huffed a breath.

“If you’re just going to be mean, you can leave,” You stuck your tongue out at him as you made your way into the bathing room. He continued to laugh as he excused himself to his own rooms. When he returned, you were already snuggled in your bed, breathing deep and steady.

Next: Part 3

Tag list: @jenniferpendragon @impossibelle @sweet-chai-amore @myheartfollower

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #lucien x reader #acotar fanfiction #lucien vanserra x reader #plus size reader #lucien vanserra x plus size reader #azriel x plus size reader #BHINfic

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utterlyotterlyx · 7 months

Text

10:35

Ruhn Danaan x Fem!Reader

Summary - After throwing his weight around, Ruhn comes to you to apologise, but you have other plans.

Warnings - swearing, mentions of s*x, Ruhn being fed up with your crap but loving you anyway, angst, fluff

Gods.

Gods were you annoying. You pushed his buttons daily, teetering on the edge of driving him to madness before pulling him back with passionate kisses.

Gods did he hate you sometimes, but he loved you more than anything, more than anyone.

Especially when you were prancing about his place wearing nothing but a thong and one his shirts that barely fell past your ass cheeks. Usually Ruhn was delighted to come home to you, you'd usually be sat with Tristan watching Sunball and enjoying a few beers; he'd come up behind you and bury his head into the crook of your neck and inhale your scent before kissing your shoulder and jumping over the edge to settle in beside you.

He knew it was coming, your bold defiance, and he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Ruhn looked at his phone, frowning at your text exchange and wondering how it had gotten so heated. He had told you off, scolded you like a child for partying too hard with Bryce and neglecting your responsibilities. Ruhn knew better.

Everyone was allowed to let loose, to enjoy their shitty lives, Ruhn knew that better than anyone.

You hated being told what to do, it had taken so long for Ruhn to break that cycle in you, to idly agree to everything even if you didn't want to. Breaking that cycle had turned you strong and independent, you promised yourself that you'd never be controlled again. In public at least.

He hadn't meant it, he hadn't meant to belittle you and reprimand you, he certainly didn't mean to throw his title in your face and make you feel like you were worth less than he was. It had just gotten heated, and he hoped he could fix it before you truly believed that he felt that way.

So, when he entered the home that he shared with Tristan and Declan, and you, ready to apologise and fuck you so good that the exchange became a hazed memory, the last thing he ever thought he'd see was you dressed in the things you knew made him weak, sat beside Tristan in a glazed state with potent smoke curling around your mouth as you exhaled a grey cloud of mirthroot into the air.

The smile on you face was lazy, laced with complete relaxation, soft low giggles emitted from your lips, your lids were slightly squinted and your cheeks were swollen from past tears, flushed and tinged.

A bowl of popcorn was wedged in the space between you and Tristan, which was a good thing, because if it wasn't there Ruhn would have grabbed Tristan by the scruff of his neck and beat him into oblivion. The tv was set to a comfortable volume, Fangs and Bangs clear on the display, and the light illuminated your face, the small whisps of hair that had fallen from your messily thrown together updo, and the sports logo plastered to the front of that shirt.

Tristan noticed him first, that hazed giddiness that Ruhn knew all too well clear on his face, "Look who's here. It's none other than the Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae himself," Tristan drawled and you turned slowly, your senses dimmed and mind moving at five miles an hour.

Your expression was blank as you looked at him, scanned his ripped black jeans and black shirt, his hair was tied back with two thick slices framing his face, he tongued the piercing in his lip, and his stare would have made you feel uncomfortable if you weren't already on another planet entirely.

"Fangs and Bangs? Didn't realise you were into this crap, Tristan," Ruhn took a step toward you, hissing at himself when you abruptly turned back to face the tv, taking a handful of popcorn and shoving it in your mouth.

Tristan inhaled the mirthroot deeply, a cough catching in his chest before the smoke cloud spurted from his mouth, he wafted the smoke away from his face and Ruhn watched it rise to the heavens, "I didn't put this shit on. This is all, Y/N."

"Give me that," you held you hand out to him, Tristan delicately placed your shared pleasure between your fingers, "I'll have you know that Fangs and Bangs is perfect for high-time television," you blew a smoke cloud at Tristan's face and smirked, lying back into the comfort of the sofa, not caring where Ruhn went next.

You were furious with him. How dare he take a swipe at you for going out, and with Bryce of all people, when he spent many hours away from you partying through the night. How dare he talk about responsibility and throw his name around to grasp some form of submission from you.

The cushions shifted under a new weight, you were determined not to look at him, to not give in, but as soon as those calloused fingers found your thigh and squeezed, you were weak. Like putty in his hands.

"Sweetheart," he cooed to you, dragging his fingers up and down your bare thigh, making you regret wearing so little as his fingertips left speckles of fire hissing on your skin. "Please look at me," his voice was low and husky, he didn't want Tristan to hear his whispering pleads to you or forever be teased.

Shrugging his touch off of you, involuntarily shuddering at vacant spot where his hand lay only moments before, you felt your phone vibrate, the screen lighting up with Bryce's name.

"What's up?" Ruhn tensed, of course Bryce would swoop in and interrupt his shit attempts to apologise to you, "Yeah, he's here. I don't know. What? Now?" Ruhn faintly heard his sisters voice chattering away through the device, he noticed your frown turn into mischievous delight, "What a great idea, Bryce. Exactly what I need, I'll see you soon. Love you."

You put the phone down and sighed, "Out again?"

Smirking, you jumped up from the sofa and walked around the edge of the sofa where a bewildered Ruhn was staring up at you, "Yep. White Raven. Bryce is coming to pick me up so I better get ready."

Without another word, you sauntered from the room, leaving Ruhn with his angry swirling thoughts. Tristan whistled, pulling Ruhn's attention from the doorway you had just strutted out from, "This is what happens when you pull rank with the one person you know loves you for you and nothing else."

Twenty minutes had passed, Bryce had barged in and flipped Ruhn off with a death glare before pattering up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. They had listened to your hushed giggles and shuffling about on the floor above, turning toward the entry when the faint click of heels sounded against the bare wood.

There you were, clad in a skin tight black dress adorned by a thousand tiny crystals that shimmered in an array of shades when you hit the light at a certain angle. Pair that with a pair of knee high heeled boots, and you had officially succeeded in making Ruhn a needy worried mess. Your makeup was simple, radiant shimmers on your cheekbones and nose, eyeliner and long lashes, and glossed nude lips.

Bryce ran her fingers through your hair, separating any knots she found and fluffing it around your face, "Let's go. Fury and Juniper are waiting for us. Girl's night!" Ruhn's amber eyed sister, and one of your best friends, dragged you from the room without so much as a goodbye to the two males staring at them from in front of the tv.

The White Raven was thrumming with eclectic energy. Sweat evaporating and clinging to the air.

You couldn't remember what time you had left, you didn't know how long you'd be dancing. You didn't know how many shots Bryce had forced down your throat. You were just happy and free.

Ruhn had looked so desperate to touch you, those big pleading violet eyes screaming at you to look at him. You knew he had a lot on his plate, his father didn't exactly agree of your relationship but Ruhn had somehow been able to convince him that when the time came you'd be the perfect person to have beside him. It made you feel bad, he was just trying to protect you in a way, to secure your place beside him, and you'd pranced about in your underwear high as a kite before dressing up and heading out. Again.

Gods, you were so fucking stupid.

But you didn't let your regret show, you were too stubborn for that, a fact Ruhn knew far too well.

Bodies kept on bumping into you as the music became heavier, the bass louder, the drinks stronger. Bryce was holding onto you and swaying, muttering about how Hunt wouldn't be happy with her if she woke him up again. Apparently he'd had a long day. Just like Ruhn.

Running your hands through your hair and up to the sky, you felt arms wrap around your waist, that familiar nose and chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Spice and leather. Kisses peppered along your shoulder and his arms pulled you tighter into his chest, low growls flowing from his lips when people bumped into you.

The lights were low, slices of purple and blue flickering through the club, but you could faintly make out Tristan at the bar and Hunt swaying with Bryce. They'd crashed girls night.

"Sweetheart, look at me," he ran a finger up your arm, across your chest, and along your jaw, pulling your chin toward him, "There she is," he cooed, pushing your hair from your face so that he could really see you.

"What do you want, Ruhn? You've already crashed girls night," you huffed, folding your arms over you chest whilst the world continued to party around you.

You were never going to be able to refuse him, but you could at least make him grovel a bit.

Ruhn ducked his head, lowering it to meet your eye line, he was so intoxicating, everything inside of you screamed to reach for him, to drag him into a bathroom stall and fuck it all out.

"I'm so sorry," he told you, holding your stare, "I never should have gotten angry at you, I never should have tried to tell you what to do. We worked so hard to get you out of that headspace," he pulled you flush against his chest and tilted your head up, his breath fanned across your face, "I love you, Y/N. So. Fucking. Much." Ruhn was trying to control himself, you deserved an apology before he fucked you senseless and made you his over and over again.

"I had the worst day. My father is breathing down my neck right now, and I just want you safe and by my side for the rest of my life. It's stupid but I'm scared he'll try and take you away from me. Not like I'd ever let him but, I'm afraid he'll catch wind of the wild nights and think you're unworthy. You're not in any sense, you love me for me and I know nothing else matters to you, I know that. I'm sorry I let him get in my head, I'm so sorry I used my name against you, I wasn't thinking."

Those violet pools were desperate, glazed over and sad, and it broke you to see him like that.

"Ruhn," you pressed your forehead to his, brushing your nose against his, "I'm sorry too. I should have kept in mind how important this is to you. I'm sorry for being stubborn and trying to piss you off. I know you'd never want to make me feel small. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for."

"Ruhn-"

"Nothing," he hummed, pulling your face to his in a kiss you had shared so many times, full of so much love and yearning and hope that every day would be filled with them. "Plus, it was kinda hot seeing you in my shirt like that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he laughed against your lips, deepening the next and relishing in the taste of you, "Let me take you home, Sweetheart. The things I want to do to you aren't to be heard by others."

Ruhn Danaan knew three things with absolute certainty:

That you were the most beautiful, fearless creature he'd ever encountered

That he couldn't wait to get you home and settle you onto his face

He knew that the morning would be the perfect time to grab that velvet emerald box from his sock drawer and promise to love you for eternity

#fanfiction #imagine #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #maasverse #ruhn danaan #ruhn x reader #bryce quinlan #bryce x hunt #hunt athalar #tristan flynn #crescent city imagine #crescent city

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shadowdaddies · 8 months

Note

Oh my thank you so much for that Lucien one shot! It was perfect! And I do actually have an idea for a Ruhn thing as well🙈 so if you feel up to writing it:

How about reader has a big event that she is very proud of and worked hard and long on, like for example she published her first book or something, and she is so damn proud of it and really excited for all her friends to be there with her and her boyfriend Ruhn as well, but they all forgot, and Ruhn mixed up the date or something and is at a big party with the others completely unaware. Just super angsty but with a happy ending perhaps?

Hi! I'm so glad you liked it, thank you for the requests 💜

Forget Me Not

Ruhn Danaan x fem!Reader

Smoothing the skirt of your dress, you strode proudly towards the Fae Archives. The library was bustling, full of people there to celebrate your new book launch which you’d worked years towards. Cheers greeted you as you entered the reception area, champagne and hors d’oeuvres passed on trays under the light of the chandelier.

You smiled broadly, joy radiating from every fiber of your being as you thanked each person who offered you their congratulations. You were, however, sidetracked in search of the only person whose presence mattered to you, Ruhn. The prince was nowhere in sight, and you began weaving through the crowd frantically for the one person who could keep you grounded and comfortable tonight.

As you jostled your way through the crowd, your eyes locked with Bryce’s her red hair like a beacon in the room. She waved to you, a smile beaming on her face as you walked towards each other.

“Hey honey, I just finished my shift at the archives. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stop by earlier, but this is a hit!” Bryce gushed, pulling you in for a hug.

You smiled ruefully at her, thankful for her presence as you tried not to be too obvious that it was her brother’s that you were seeking. “Thank you for stopping by anyway, Bryce. Have you seen Ruhn, by chance?” you asked nervously.

Amber eyes softened as her smile disappeared. “No, I haven’t seen him.” Her hand reached out to hold yours, giving it an encouraging squeeze. “But I’m sure he’ll show soon.”

You nodded, too preoccupied in your own thoughts to fully listen as she continued on about the evening and your book. You were brought back to reality by the feeling of your phone buzzing in your pocket, sending Bryce an apologetic smile as you pulled it out to check.

On the screen was a message that had your blood heated.

Ruhn: Hey princess, are you coming by the party tonight? Been looking for you everywhere

Nostrils flared, eyes twitching, your grip tightened around your phone as you read the message. He forgot. The stupid bastard threw a frat party on your release night.

Bryce’s eyes widened, her hand reaching tentatively for your phone as she took it from your hand, reading the message for herself. “That idiot,” she groaned, pinching her nose with a sigh.

Her eyes flicked to yours, enviously long lashes batting against her freckled cheeks as her pitied stare gazed upon you. Swallowing thickly, you forced a weak smile. “Thank you for coming, Bryce,” you managed, barely above a whisper before fleeing from the building.

You sat in your car, folding your arms as you laid your forehead against the steering wheel. Your phone was buzzing incessantly against your thigh, but you threw it into the passenger seat as you drove home.

Slamming the car door shut, you trudged your way up to your apartment, locking the bolt behind you as you stripped your clothing, padding towards the shower. The hot water burned against your skin, a soothing distraction from the whirlpool of emotions within you.

Stepping out, you finally felt clean and relaxed enough to fall asleep as you checked your phone, over forty unread messages from Ruhn on your home screen. Pursing your lips, you read through each one - the confusion, the sorrow, the apologies as he remembered the importance of the evening for you.

Tears stung, your heart calling out to him while your mind insisted on sleep. You crawled under the covers, bare as you curled up and tried to fall asleep. A familiar click of your door lock sounded, rousing you from your slumber as boots trudged towards your bedroom.

The door creaked open to reveal a teary-eyed Ruhn, bags under his violet eyes as they softened at your half-asleep form.

“Hi,” he whispered, holding back a choked sob as he closed the door softly behind him. You simply stared, curly tighter into yourself as you bit your lip, forbidding yourself from shedding any more tears tonight.

“I am so, so sorry, princess. I really thought that your event was tomorrow. I never, ever would have planned a party had I known. Please, I need you to understand,” he begged, crumpling into himself as his elbows dipped against the corner of your bed, his face buried in them.

You let out a shaky sigh, eyeing Ruhn for a moment before nodding your head for him to join you. He smiled, shedding his outer clothing as he lifted the sheets, scooting towards you under the covers. Frustrated, you allowed yourself to sink into his warmth despite your anger, falling asleep quickly in his arms.

You awoke to the smell of cinnamon and butter, stumbling out of bed to find Ruhn frying a pan of French toast for you. You cracked a soft smile, before remembering the events of last night.

Your eyes shifting towards Ruhn in a glare, recognizing the instant guilt in his eyes, shoulder slumped as he looked to you. “I am so sorry about last night. It hurts me that I could ever forget something so important to you. I vow to never let that happen again. I am so sorry,” he cried, sniffling as he scooped the toast onto your plate.

Your gaze softened, understanding the sincerity of his tone. “Well, as long as it doesn’t happen again,” you teased, taking a bite of the toast on your plate. You moaned, eyes rolling back as you chewed. “Or as long as you make it up to me with this,” you gestured towards the cinnamon treat in front of you.

Leaning up to kiss him, you licked the syrup from Ruhn’s lips, a smirk spreading across your own as you relaxed to focus on your own plate. Ruhn smiled at you, tongue toying with his lip ring as he admired you in the morning light.

“I have plans tonight, to make up for yesterday. I know that nothing can really make up for my failure, but I want to take you to dinner. Please?”

You smirked, shaking your head as the wide blue eyes that watched you, knowing you could never say no. “Alright, alright. Try to make it up to me tonight,” you teased, shoveling a forkful of breakfast in your mouth with a grin.

“Perfect. I’ll be back later to pick you up. Wear something nice, that you can dance in. Alright?” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss your cheek before heading out the door.

Later that evening, you slipped into a silky lavender dress, hair curled in loose waves. You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when the front door unlocked, Ruhn calling out your name as he closed the door behind him.

Stepping out of your room, you stumbled as you took in the sight before you. Ruhn was dressed in an all black suit, perfectly tailored to show his physique. His eyes wandered around the room, widening as his gaze landed on you.

A swallow worked its way down his throat, Ruhn’s jaw going slack as he stared at you in a trance. Your giggle snapped him back to reality, violet eyes darting to yours as an embarrassed laugh escaped him.

“You look... There are no words to do you justice. I do not deserve you,” he murmured, eyes soft as he approached where you stood. Warm hands wrapped around your waist, giving a light affectionate squeeze as he rested his forehead against yours. “Now, let’s go celebrate you.”

Ruhn led you downstairs, calling a car to drive you to dinner. “Plan on a crazy night, do we?” you teased, sliding into the car with Ruhn closing the door gently behind you.

He seated himself on the other side, taking your hand in his as the driver took off down the street towards the Old Square. When the car stopped in front of The White Raven, you flashed an unimpressed glance towards Ruhn.

“This is what you planned for a special night to celebrate?” you asked, lips pursed as you folded your arms across your chest.

Ruhn laughed, pressing a kiss to your hand before opening his car door. “Just trust me,” he said, swiftly exiting the car before running around to open your door for you. Helping you out, Ruhn thanked the driver, placing his hand on the small of your back as he led you to the entrance of the club.

Opening the door, Ruhn stepped to the side as he ushered you in, the sight before you taking your breath away. A large banner saying “CONGRATULATIONS” spanned the length of the bar, streamers and balloons decorating the entire space.

All of your friends were there, dressed in their finery as they cheered at your entrance. Tears immediately filled your eyes, your head whipping to wear Ruhn smiled softly at your side.

Leaning in, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “The plan was to surprise you with this afterparty all along. My dumb ass just mixed up the dates,” he admitted softly.

Your heart melted at his words, and you reached out to him without a thought, pulling him in for a deep kiss. Whoops and hollers sounded from around you at the shameless public display of affection, and you laughed against Ruhn’s lips before pulling away.

“Thank you. This means so much to me, and I am so grateful for you,” you whispered, admiration in your eyes as you brushed Ruhn’s long black hair behind his ear.

A broad smile took over his face, Ruhn’s demeanor visibly lightening as he pulled you in for a hug. “Anything for you, my love. Now let’s go celebrate you,” he whispered, taking your hand as he led you into the crowd, where friends and family greeted you with hugs and accolades.

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misschanadlerbong · 1 year

Text

Chapter 11 - It'll Be Okay

Summary: Clay goes to the reader's house to comfort her.

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault, mention of food.

Genre: Heavy Angst

Word Count: 1.6k

< Previous | Next >

“Hey Y/N, how are you? Please reply to my texts or call me back.” You got a text from Clay.

“Y/N please, I am worried”.

This was not the first time you were getting these texts from Clay. It had been a week since you met him or talked to him. Since the day Bryce tried to rape you, you have not been to school and have not seen anyone. After crying that whole night, you shut your emotions off because it is always easier to not feel anything rather than cry over the same thing over and over again.

You decided not to tell anyone because you did not know what to tell them. Somehow as always, it felt like all of this was your fault.

What would you tell others? That Bryce tried to rape you, and you couldn’t even fight back? Everyone in the school would slut-shame you without knowing the truth.

Thoughts like these ran through your mind and you could not take it anymore honestly, you were not strong enough to feel such heavy emotions, so you shut them off. You went miserable during that week, did not eat properly, and did not care about your skincare and body. You were losing your shit.

You had a perfect plan; you sought Tony’s help and made him swear that he will not open his mouth to anyone about anything. Every morning you came to his place instead of going to school and by the time school got over you came home so that no one would even notice. You got many texts from Jessica, but the good thing was that she was out of town, and you could easily lie to her about everything.

Stalling Justin was easy too and as Tony told you even Zach did not say anything in school about you, but he told you that Zach use to ask about you every day, about how you are keeping up, about your health, about you not coming to school. But you still didn’t care about it. All you cared about was Clay. Seeing those texts, and the endless missed calls made you want to go to his place and tell him the truth but a part of you was scared. You were scared to confront him about Bryce, feared him judging you, and scared to ruin what you had with him.

Every day you had this thought of breaking up with Clay because you did not want to drag Clay into your drama. He was doing simply fine in his school you did not want him to suffer because of you. A part of you felt that Clay is better off without you and that is why you ghosted him.

Today, you reached your home a bit late because though you were not going to school you kept your homework up to date. So, after finishing your work you went to your place, and it was almost dinner time. As soon as you opened the main door you heard your parents talking and with that, you heard a familiar voice. You went inside the living room and saw Clay sitting on the couch with your parents.

Upon your arrival, all three of them stood up. Clay looked sad and confused and as your eyes met you felt pity for not talking to him all this week. Your mother looked furious before you could ask about the unknown arrival of Clay your mother started yelling at you, “Y/N Y/L/N you had a boyfriend? And if you were not going to school all this time, where were you going? What is happening? Answer me!” She demanded.

You did not answer any of her questions and instead turned to Clay, “Clay what the hell are you doing here? You are not supposed to be here, just leave.”

Before Clay could say something, your father intervened and said, “Let us all just calm down and have a peaceful family dinner, and Y/N you cannot skip dinner today like you have been doing for the past week. Clay, I would like you to join as well and then after dinner, we can talk.”

Your father was always the savior. You all sat down at the dining table and said grace. Your mother still had that death glare on her face which scared you. Your father was quick to notice the tension building in the atmosphere and suggested “Now everyone will tell us about how their day was.”

Your mother tried taking the first bite of her food, but rage took over her hunger and she slammed her fork on her plate and asked you “So tell me Y/N how was your day? And where did you spend it?”

You were annoyed and could not take it anymore you stood up and announced “You all want to know about my day huh? So, I made a particularly crucial decision today. I am quitting the baseball and basketball team.” Your mother though was furious with you, but her face revealed a sigh of relief. You glared at your mom and said “And you would be happy right, Mom? Because you never wanted me to play in the first place.” After saying this you left the table and stormed off to your room.

Your father and Clay were shocked at whatever you just said. They knew sports was one of the most important things in your life that kept you happy and they knew you could quit anything but sports.

Clay followed you to your room. You sat on the edge of your bed looking at the floor and Clay came inside shutting the door behind him.

This was the first time Clay was coming into your room. Your room was subtle, it had a mauve aesthetic with contrasting curtains hanging on the window just above the couch in your room. Your bed lay in the middle of the room with blue sheets. There were fairy lights on your headboard and some Polaroids were clipped to the lights.

Clay looked outside the window to prevent eye contact with you.

“Why would you do that Y/N? Why me huh? A week and no texts no call? Who am I to you?” you could hear the anger in his voice. He had every right to be angry with you but did not know the truth.

“Clay you were not supposed to be here, my parents don’t know about you. After Zach, they prohibited me from dating someone because I went miserable after the breakup.”

Clay turned towards you, but you were still looking at the floor, you said “I think we should break up Clay, it would be best for both of us.”

Those words were such a thunderclap to Clay. He could be angry with you, mad at you but he could not stand the idea of breaking up with you. He sat down on his knees to bring himself to your level and held both your hands in his with a look of distress in his eyes and he could not help but stare. He felt like he didn’t recognize you. You were not the Y/N he admired, weak and miserable. You had deep dark circles under your eyes and looked fragile.

“Y/N are not eating enough? What is it, baby? Talk to me. It is okay whatever it is. Hey, look at me. Please, don’t do this to me, it hurts.”

He pulled your chin and made you look him in the eye. As your eyes met you could not keep your tears away anymore, “Something happened Clay…” you sobbed.

“What is it?”

You told him everything that had happened to you. His face was mixed with reactions he was angry at Bryce, sorry for you, and mad at himself for not knowing earlier and not being there for you when you needed him.

“Why didn’t you tell me Y/N about all this? Why would you even hide something from me?”

“Because I thought you’ll judge me like every other person in our school and think I am just another girl who slept with Bryce.”

“Are you crazy? I would never. Y/N you are one of the most important people in my life and I could not lose you to that asshole. I told you everything about Hannah and how he screwed with everyone I ever loved. I am not letting that dick do anything to you. We will fight back. But if you want some space and time, I will understand but please, God please don’t break up with me.”

Clay held your face in his hands and looked into your eyes, you could see that his eyes were tearing up too.

“Y/N, I love you…” You intervened “But Clay…”

“No, Y/N you don’t have to say it back. I just wanna let you know that there are people who love you and care about you so that you don’t do anything stupid. I meant to say this for a long time, but Y/N Y/L/N I am in love with you.”

You looked at him with pity in your eyes and said, “But I am a mess Clay, why would you love me?”

“Well, I love your mess. I love everything about you” replied Clay.

Clay kissed your forehead and engulfed you in a hug and caressed your back. You took a moment to realize it was fine for him to touch you. Since Bryce, you prevented every possible human touch because you lost trust. But this felt different. As he hugged you tightly instead of revolting back you hugged him back and started crying. You could feel his damp sweatshirt on his shoulder and a couple of Clay's tears on your shoulder.

“We can tell people whenever you are ready. It’s all gonna be okay.” He whispered.

At that moment you felt protected. You knew you could move past this. You knew everything will be fine and you will be able to face that asshole and get him punished for whatever he did. You knew it will be okay.

Shower your love by liking and commenting on the post. Refrain from copying, plagiarism, or posting on any other platform.

THANK YOU!!!

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w4w4lycsss · 2 months

Text

HE'S A MOTHERFUCKER | JAMES HOOK

summary: When Chloe and Red arrive at Merlin Academy, they discover what happened to your relationship with Hook and their conflictive separation, being told by Bridget, Ella and you pairing: James Hook x male!triton!reader warging: angst, bad language, mention of breakup, couples fighting, public drama. Happy ending! based on: All 2 U - Bryce Pinkham a/n: Originally this was going to be a normal romantic story but I thought of doing something totally different, and it's my favorite song! I recomend it to you

I let you get too close. I let it go too far.

Lately you were going through the worst times of your life, and that wasn't a good thing. You were more tired than normal, your eyes were heavy due to the lack of sleep, your body was constantly shaking with a kind of anxiety that you couldn't control.

Your two best friends, Bridget and Ella, did everything in their power to make you feel better and be as careful as possible when you felt like the world was falling on them.

Several things changed when Red and Chloe arrived at Merlin Academy.

Many students were constantly talking about the end of a relationship between a merman and a pirate, something that both girls were completely unaware of until they met you.

Now I know, now I know. Now I know exactly what you are!

Bridget put her hand on your back as you looked at the ground tiredly, rubbing your eyes with your hands. In your head there was a puzzle that no one could put together and that you yourself barely understood.

Chloe and Red understood that it was a sensitive topic to ask, but if they wanted to help maybe they should know even the least. She He began to tell the girls what had happened, speaking quietly so that you wouldn't notice.

Na na na, na na, na! A motherfucker.

You and Hook met several years ago, you were the son of a mermaid and you had been accepted into Merlin Academy, which had always been your dream. Your mother had warned you about pirates, they were bad men who only wanted to take advantage of sweet mermaids and innocent mermen. She was right.

Hook approached you in a gentlemanly manner, which made you question if he wanted to play with you, but you trusted you, and he was handsome, so you played along. Over time you realized he treated you as if you were his entire heaven, a treasure that only he could possess for having the map, a jewel worth stealing.

He cared for you, both for others and for yourself, he knew you to the point of knowing your greatest fears and dreams, he knew you more than you knew yourself, he was sure that you must have been a prince in your past life.

You didn't fall in love quickly, it was hard for you to accept your feelings and recognize the intentions of others, but after a whole year of good treatment and adorable looks you realized that he was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

I don't think you meant to hurt me. 'Cause I don't think it meant a thing at all.

You began to feel that perhaps your feelings were shared when you noticed the glances he secretly gave you, how he brushed his hand with yours or how he looked for you every day without fail, no matter how much you had ignored him. You two had something.

One day he walked you to your room, you thought it would be a good idea to let him in to help you study some things. He put his hand on your leg as you read aloud, making you look up.

At all, at all, at all.

At all, at all, at all, at all, at all.

At all, at all, to you!

The look he gave you in those moments was so different from what you were used to that you simply let yourself go, read it and approached his face to kiss him. The beginning of the end.

You two continued doing the same thing, treating each other as a couple and being happy as much as you were allowed. Each of you lived your dream of having a happy partner and someone to spend your time with, you could never regret meeting someone like him.

Over time he became less romantic and you thought you would never get tired of something like that, until you realized how many words he had from one day to the next. Weren't you two a couple?

It was difficult for you to continue calmly the rest of the day with that stupid idea in your head eating away at you inside for hours and hours. You could only turn to the window and see him playing with his friends, skipping classes.

You couldn't dare ask him, what were you two? You were afraid of scaring him into stopping talking to you, of losing everything you had ever built. Maybe you were too much of a coward.

Na na na, na na, na! A motherfucker.

You tried to convince yourself that there was nothing wrong with him not calling you. his boyfriend, maybe he just didn't like labels. You tried to talk about this with his friends, with whom you had already created a genuine bond.

Hades, Maleficent and Morgie were speechless at your words and how you convinced yourself that nothing was wrong.

Hades put his hand on her shoulder and swallowed before speaking. “He is not like that, if he calls his partners girlfriend or boyfriend. Maybe…"

Maleficent interrupted him. “Don't tell him that!” she tried to keep a calm tone of voice as she turned to you. “Look, what happens is…”

“Maybe he doesn't feel ready.” Morgie said. Maleficent agreed with him with a nod of her head.

Maybe you don't feel ready? What does that mean! Maybe you should wait for the right moment and Hook would call you his boyfriend.

I let it go too long. I let you go too deep.

Now I know, now I know. Now I know there's one thing I can't keep.

Things between the two of you were still normal, you were restless waiting for the moment when Hook behaved formally with you and called you his boyfriend and don't make you feel like a Princess more than at any moment it can be changed.

Because, as much as it hurt, that had been exactly how Hook had been making you feel for a month and a bit more. He spoke with princesses.

The ones he swore he hated with every cell of his being, the ones he bothered daily. He was…changing you?

You weren't jealous, in fact you didn't even care, it was just that sometimes he paid more attention to them than to you.

He sacrificed his afternoons together to hang out with his friends, gatherings to which you knew princesses went. The fear of him cheating on you was becoming more and more inevitable.

But I, I keep on waiting. Waiting to want you less than I do!

And I do, oh I do, yes I still do want you.

You didn't know why suddenly such a solid and adorable relationship had become a cradle of secrets and lies, lies which were uncovered by his friends. You thought maybe your fairy tale was ending.

But maybe it's all on me. For missing every sign and every glance. And every turn.

Your nightmare was just beginning when he didn't show up to your room for his study date. Later you found out that he was at the lake with his new Princess.

You wanted to escape from the Academy and swim home without rest to never see sunlight again, everything he told you seemed like a poorly constructed mask that was falling apart. The simple fact that he stopped looking for you all the time or following you around like a lost dog (an act you loved about him because he was adorable) hit you mercilessly.

Soon you also distanced yourself from his friends, which they understood when you didn't want to be associated with whatever it was that reminded you of he. Now it was he, the mere mention of his name made you writhe with nausea and an inexplicable desire to cry.

In a matter of months your dream of almost a year was over, ending with you on the floor of your room crying inconsolably and wishing to disappear. You actually didn't know if you wanted to disappear or for him to disappear.

No, no, no! He's a motherfucker!

Somehow you ended up being friends with Bridget and Ella, two very sweet girls who understood your situation. The whole school was talking about what had happened to the two of you as if they had seen behind the curtain into the inside of your feelings.

Maybe there's something here for us to glean. For you to teach and me to try to learn.

Only your two new friends could understand how you felt, and only they knew the truth behind the school's act of pretending to be a know-it-all.

Ella begged Red and Chloe not to bring it up in front of you, an action that both girls accepted without hesitation, watching as you wiped the tears from your face and slowly moved away from Bridget's touch.

No, no, no! He's a motherfucker!

“Do you want a cupcake?” Bridget smiled softly at you, putting her hand on your shoulder so you could look at her again.

You nodded slightly in response, looking seriously at Red and Chloe, knowing that they already knew everything.

'Cause darling you're the thief. But you were mine to earn.

Bridget began to sing a soft melody that became emotional while she distributed pink cupcakes to almost all the students, who, it is worth noting, pointed at you and murmured things when they looked at you with their tired and pale faces.

So, passed, too fast for you to react and run to the opposite side; the VK had come to compete with your friend's singing.

You looked down to avoid any contact with him. And you took a bite of the cupcake that she had offered you, making the clips that were in your hair to hold it take on a pink color. You smiled tenderly at the magic.

You came back to reality when you heard a terrified scream from Uliana, who had turned into some kind of flamingo. You covered your mouth with a hand to hold back a laugh, the same action that Red was about to imitate.

Within seconds Uliana was chasing your two friends along with Red and Chloe. You tried to do the same to help them, being stopped by a tug on your arm that made you look up.

What if I came on too strong? What if I read this all wrong? What if we just don't belong?

"Do not touch me!" You reproached, yanking your arm out of Hook's grasp.

Your heart skipped a beat, an uncomfortable one that took your breath away, making you want to slap him and run away.

“I thought you liked me grabbing you.”

All this what if, what if, what if, what if, what if, what if.

You frowned even more and with a strange impulse you decided to listen to that voice in your head and you slapped him. At that moment you could only stand firm, breathing heavily when you wanted to ask for forgiveness, but trying not to let it show on your face.

Why, why, why, why, why, why. Makes me burn!

Hook gulped at the blow, running his hand down the side of his cheek. He took a breath and tried to speak.

“I'll be brief, it's all Ulinana's fault.”

You raised an eyebrow surprised but offended. "Sorry?" You laughed painfully, it all sounded too false. “Where has your ego come to, Hook?” You ran away with contempt.

He stood by his words. “Listen to me, okay? I beg."

Oh, I don't think you meant to hurt me. 'Cause I don't think it meant a thing at all.

The way he saw you and wanted to take your hands but stopped told you that maybe he was serious, and that you weren't going to lose anything if you listened to him. Maybe just a few tears.

"What do you want?" You sighed and crossed your arms.

“Uliana can't stand mermaids, nor can she stand mermen. I always wanted us to be boyfriends, but I was afraid that she would find out, it would make your life miserable! I…I couldn’t stand it.”

No, not at all! At all, at all, at all.

At all, at all, at all. At all, at all, at all.

“Why should I believe you?” You said automatically, speaking coldly. “You changed me for a princess.”

He frowned in confusion. "That I what?" He let out a small laugh. "Princess? “They’re not even my type.”

“What about me?”

"You doubt it?"

"Quite."

His smile fell slightly, speaking more slowly. "I love you. I'm afraid, I'm in love with you. ”

“You never said it to my face.”

“My ego wouldn't let me, I spent entire nights awake thinking about you. Thinking that when we finish this damn school we are going to escape to Neverland and live thousands of adventures. Maybe a family.”

Na na na, na na, na! The motherfucker.

You stretched out your hand and timidly touched it with Hook's, a gesture that almost formed a childish smile of excitement on his face that he could barely suppress. You two intertwined hands.

“Are you still afraid of what Uliana will tell you?”

“Not anymore, she's going to be too busy trying to get back at Bridget to pay attention to us.”

You smiled, realizing how in love you were, too in love to pull away when he ran his fingertips over your knuckles tenderly, making you melt without even really being touched.

You stood on your tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek, making him frown and bend down to his height, giving you a sweet and brief kiss on the lips, still a little scared that you would walk away again, that he would lose you again.

The motherfucker.

#captian hook #male reader #gn reader #fanfic #james hook #james hook x reader #hook x reader #descendants rise of red #descendants x reader

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crypticandmachiavellianaugustine · 8 months

Text

For your love

Ruhn Danaan x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Ruhn had been strangers, lovers and then exes and then lovers again. (Listened to For your love by Maneskin an ungodly amount of times while writing this).

Warnings: some angst, some smut, mentions of smoking and alcohol.

English is not my first language so if you find a mistake you know why. Second time writing something with smut in it, not sure if it is readable.

_______

The first time they had met, Ruhn was looking for his sister and the last thing he had expected to find in Bryce's kitchen was an unknown girl with a white sun dress all embroidered with tiny forget-me-not flowers, baking biscuits and talking to a cat who was apparently listening with great interest to her monologue.

When she had turned around and found the Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae staring at her in disbelief she had almost made ruinously fall to the ground a tray of her freshly out of the oven creations.

After a rather awkward introduction she had let him know, with a shy voice, that Bryce would return in about half an hour. Then she had offered him a biscuit.

The second time had been at a bar. She was sitting at the counter with a drink and a stock of important looking papers. She almost looked like another person, long gone was her almost naive persona after a few months living in Lunathion, she resembled in all and for all the serious academic that she actually was. He had taken it as a challenge to sway that serious looking girl, with her glasses and burgundy suit, away from her documents and the old fashioned whiskey she was swirling distractingly.

She had glared at him with eyes that promised storms and blizzards when Ruhn had greeted her, buying her another old fashioned and almost retreating to more approachable company. Still the evening had ended in his bed, a veil of sweat covering them both as she rode him right into their umpteenth orgasm of the night. Her hands tugging at his hair firmly everytime their lips smashed into each other, while his were grasping the soft flesh of her thighs, her malleable and rich of curves body driving him to madness.

And then the next morning they went their separate ways, she rarely thought of him for the year that went by from their second and their third encounter.

She was at a party, smoking alone in a corner of the terrace, observing the rather amusing little scenes in front of her. She enjoyed being the observer, unnoticed and free. She didn't know that she was being observed attentively and that her privilege of detached spectator was coming to an end.

Ruhn had struck a conversation with her rather smoothly and before she could even realise what was happening she had fallen again into that game of taunting and flirting that had made them end up exploring each other in a bar's back room and later in his bed one year before.

Their playful conversation was flowing like the champagne she had been drinking and as he leaned in to whisper something quite outrageous in her ear, her fingers flexed, accidentally touching his hand with the same lightness of a feather.

She had grabbed his hand deciding that they needed to dance. The green of her dress was that of a vemonus snake, glistening under the dim lights, the shiny fabric falling softly on the curves he had traced, kissed, savoured a year before.

Ruhn's mouth fell open at the sight of her leading him to the dancefloor with the confidence of a siren who had just ripped out a mortal's heart to bury in the seabed.

The music was loud and hypnotic, and she moved sinuously close to him, teasing and grazing her hands all over his body while he slid his fingers on her naked back. They had ended up yet again locked in a room that neither of them owned, with the muffled sounds of a crowd on the other side of the door.

Once again they had found themselves on some couch with her straddling his lap, his hands trailing the skirt of her dress up her legs, her hands undoing his pants before they both found relief to their craving for each other that had started when they had ended up alone together after a year.

"We should do this again sometime," she had heard Ruhn mutter later that night, they were still on that couch, laying in silence.

So they did and suddenly casualty became dating and then it turned into something she could not explain. And then it ended and again they had found separate paths to take. Even for love it was impossible to find common ground in two lives that ran in opposite directions.

Y/N felt like they both should have been ashamed by how the night was going, she and Ruhn flirting and teasing each other with the excuse of catching up while both of their dates were darting them murderous looks from across the room, though shame was the last in her list of feelings in that moment.

She felt good, the break-up didn't sting as much anymore and it seemed like they both needed to linger in the nostalgia for their past passion and closeness.

She also felt that it would be a pity to waste her red dress, with its deep cleavage and the fabric that wrapped her body softly, on the dull guy she had decided to go out with because she had been bored.

A pomegranate shaped pendant, made of gold and rubies, was laying in between her breasts and Ruhn had certainly shown more appreciation for the little detail than her date, the prince's eyes indulging in an indecent look at her cleavage too often.

She was playing with Ruhn's long raven hair as they drank and talked, his hand had found its place on her waist, squeezing her lightly.

In the dead of night they had found themselves laying together silently, the red dress had been thrown somewhere in Ruhn's room, and what was supposed to be just passion between past lovers had become something worse, intimacy.

At first they had barged through his door, their lips engaged in a fight for dominance, and their clothes being carelessly ripped off.

Ruhn had made her his against the door, on his desk and then finally on his bed. Then with her hands firmly gripping the headboard, he had grabbed her thighs and planted her on his face, his lips and his tongue working on her swollen bud, making a mess out of her with ease. She had whimpered silently when she had felt his lip ring bushing against her most sensitive spot. The prince had kept her sat on his face for a long while, making her come undone until she could not take it anymore.

Melancholy had made it's way into their minds when they were laying facing each other, like they had done many times in their shared past. It felt heartbreakingly intimate, to know someone so deeply for some time and then know almost nothing about them, just to run to the crossroad as soon as their paths had got close again.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was her imagination, but she could had sworn that in her state of drowsiness, Ruhn had pressed a kiss on her forehead, and whispered something she could not quite catch.

"For your love, I'll do whatever you want".

#ruhn danaan #ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn danaan x you #ruhn crescent city #ruhn danaan x plus size reader #crescent city fanfic #crescent city fanfiction #crescent city #ruhn danaan x oc

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makeyoumine69 · 16 days

Text

Lost Memory (Memory Reboot x4)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader x Timothy Bryce

SUMMARY: Two lost souls, both broken and neglected, knowing they were never meant to be, found solace in each other just for one night.

CONTAINS: SMUT, angst, depression, obsessive thoughts, mentions of death, canon violence, tainted love, blow jobs, face-sitting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, dirty talk, pet names, sensual foreplay, rimming, intoxication, praise kink.

WORDS: 4.5k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Lost Memory

A/N: Hello everyone, the new chapter is finally here! I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope you like it!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

Cool New York night air enveloped your shivering frame the moment you walked outside, leaving the noisy wedding party behind the walls of the luxurious Ziegfeld Ballroom. Slowly breathing in the fresh air, you closed your eyes and threw your head back a little to come back to your senses—you were literally broken to pieces, to say the least—your heart was pounding painfully in your chest and at some point you wished it would stop beating, thinking that it would end everything and finally set you free from all this pain and suffering.

Hugging yourself, you took a few weak strides towards the street where cars were speeding by. Just one step, and tomorrow all the newspapers would report that there had been an accident in Manhattan right next to the Ziegfeld Ballroom where the pompous wedding of our Wall Street golden boy was taking place. You laughed to yourself at all this nonsense, how did you ever get into such a situation? Being completely sober, the realization of what you were thinking hit you even harder than if you were drunk or high, but now you were completely lucid, able to feel every twinge of pain.

Bewildered, you watched the yellow cars go by, sometimes you could see the impassive faces of the passengers inside. All this reminded you of a movie whose name you could never really remember. But it was definitely not a comedy or a drama. Maybe it was a documentary about someone's life... a tragic life?

With a sad sigh, you were about to sit down on the curb when you heard loud footsteps behind you and turned around to see a familiar silhouette approaching.

"Bateman?" You asked, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

The man didn't answer, as if he hadn't noticed you at all, casually pulling a cigar out of the pocket of his Prada coat that he wore over his wedding tuxedo, and for a second you thought it was just an illusion your sick mind managed to maintain to keep your psyche from collapsing.

After lighting his cigar, Patrick made a long drag before finally giving you an agonizing stare. "Just wanted to have some fresh air..." he paused, his white teeth clenching around the cigar, making his jawline look so sharp that even in the dark you could see it. "Plus, Evelyn didn't want me to smoke inside. We just got married and she's already making scenes."

You wanted to say something, but stopped at the last moment—his hazel eyes suddenly took your breath away—leaving you completely speechless.

"And you," Bateman continued as he came closer, his elegant figure looking so seductive in the dim light. "I can't believe you left all your business in Chicago just to come here and get squashed like a fucking cockroach!"

"What? What are you talking about?" You asked in a shaky tone, your temples pulsating with a strange tension that made you want to massage them. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

Patrick grinned wickedly as he leveled himself with you, the difference in height only adding to the menace of his appearance. "Tell me one thing, (y/n)," he whispered above your cheek, keeping the mere distance between the two of you. "Did you really think I'd dream of you coming back to me?"

You closed your eyes involuntarily, every word he said bringing the most inhuman pain you had ever felt. "S-stop," you replied, stepping back. "Shut... shut your damn mouth!"

"Ohhh," he cooed at you in a mocking way, which drove you crazy, but then he blew some smoke right in your face, which made you want to punch him in the chest. "You just have to accept that you lost," Bateman suddenly grabbed the collar of your coat to pull you closer. "Just accept that you fell in love with a man who doesn't give a fuck about you."

On the verge of tears, you didn't even struggle as the ground beneath your feet suddenly began to disappear. "I... I will not give you the satisfaction of hating you... you f-fucking bastard!"

Without thinking, you spat right into his smug face and before you knew it, his strong arms were wrapped around your trembling neck, almost straddling you so you couldn't even make a sound. Everything around you began to blur, and the last moment you remembered before passing out was Patrick's menacing laugh as he pushed you right out into the road in front of the speeding car. A fatal blow hit your body, a screeching sound of tires rang in your ears and you screamed in pain, choking on your own breath.

And then the darkness finally took you.

At least you thought so until you heard a familiar male voice calling out to you, and no, it wasn't Patrick. No way, if you were really going to die, you wished you would never meet him in the place you were going to transfer to. No doubt, that son of a bitch would burn in hell while you would end up in heaven. Somehow you were sure of that.

"Jesus, (y/n), will you stop yelling?" The grumpy voice called out to you again.

You blinked several times before opening your eyes to see the opulent interior around you. And who said that heaven was somewhere in the sky where angels were flying around promising a peaceful afterlife?

"Welcome back," the dark-haired man chuckled, swirling his drink in his hand. "I told you not to mix too many cocktails."

Cocktails?

You recoiled as if from an electric shock as you suddenly heard your inner voice, seemingly silent for centuries. Rubbing your eyes, you tried to get up, but the next moment you fell back onto something soft, which seemed to be a car seat, considering you definitely heard the engine rumble, so you were definitely in someone's car. Another attempt to get up was more successful and you took your time exploring the surroundings, and when you managed to get a good look at the person sitting on the opposite side of you, your heart did a flip-flop in your chest.

"Bryce?" You couldn't believe your eyes at first, but when you saw his cheeky grin, you knew it was really him.

"You drifted off right after we got in, so I decided not to wake you," Timothy replied nonchalantly before taking a sip of his drink. "Nice limo? Evelyn and Bateman were supposed to be in it, but then he told me they were leaving in a fucking helicopter," the man laughed, almost dropping the glass. "A fucking helicopter, can you believe that?"

Your head was spinning, making it difficult to process the information. Grunting, you pressed your hand to your forehead, trying to remember how you got in here in the first place.

"Ohhh...my head," you hissed, almost kicking the tray of drinks that was on the small table built into the limo door. "What...what happened after the ceremony ended," your question left Tim speechless and for a moment you both remained silent. "Bryce?"

Timothy frowned and placed the empty glass on his knee. "Are you kidding?"

"For God's sake, Bryce!" You suddenly raised your voice, but the next second you hissed in pain. "Can... can you just fucking tell me what the hell am I doing here?"

"You're asking me that?" Bryce tilted his head as he watched you try to sit comfortably. "Come on, (y/n), this isn't funny anymore. Besides, I warned you not to drink too much."

Tsk... I can't remember a damn thing.

When you managed to sit up straight, you pressed yourself against the cold window and sighed in relief. "And what exactly did...we drink?"

The man scoffed. "I told you...you had several cocktails, but that was not enough...so you decided to finish everything the bar had."

"Ahh, screw you! I don't believe a word you're saying," you threw one leg over the other, watching the blinding lights of oncoming traffic. "Where are we going?!"

"Where? Jeez, if you can't drink, you better not even try," Tim replied curtly, his voice changing, now devoid of any sass. "We're going to my place."

"What?"

"Stop fucking pretending you don't remember," the man barked, squirming in his seat, the glass felt on the soft floor of the limo, thankfully it didn't break. "Do you know how deranged you are? You talked in your sleep-"

"I didn't!" You tried to interrupt him, completely embarrassed. "Take another glass and-"

"No, no, no, hold on!" Bryce leaned forward to get closer so you could see his face more clearly. "Did I hit the nerve?"

Yes, you did. You fucking did.

If only you could really confess and open up to him without fear of being accused or whatever. Would it even be right to tell Tim everything that happened between you and Patrick? When you were so close to telling him all the things that were bothering you, your voice suddenly disappeared, as if some invisible force was choking you from within. Only after a few minutes did you manage to speak, feeling Timothy's piercing gaze.

"Was it Evelyn who invited you to the wedding?" Your question surprised him, you could tell by the way he leaned back in his seat. "I'm just curious...because she invited me."

Every time Evelyn was mentioned, something changed in his expression, and you couldn't really find the right word to describe it—it was something much stronger than the usual sadness people always talked about—something that made you sad, too.

"Let's say," his lips curled into a wry smile and you couldn't take your eyes off them, they were beautiful and alluring. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember or...you don't want to remember?" You opened your coat, suddenly feeling suffocated in your clothes.

Bryce furrowed his thick eyebrows, looked down at the empty glass on the floor, as did you, and then your fingers touched as you both leaned down to pick it up. Tim's skin was not as soft as Patrick's, it felt completely different, it made you want to explore it more, to touch it, to taste it, as if it was your own personal forbidden fruit.

Without saying a word, Tim quickly pulled away and took the glass to place it on the tray next to the others, the amber liquid in them making them look like they were made of gold. There was no room for any more talk as the two of you pulled each other into a furious kiss, you let him place his hand at the base of your neck, drawing you closer and soon you were sitting on top of him, gasping into his mouth. Bryce's slightly flushed face made it impossible to think of Bateman, even though his image tried to appear every time you briefly opened your eyes.

Leave... me... alone!

You almost growled aloud, but Tim's eager tongue prevented you from doing so, as he used it to shut you up completely, licking your mouth from the inside while his hands slid down your back to your ass, massaging it, and when you thought he was going to slap it, he just gave it a playful squeeze.

"Jesus, Bryce," you whispered against his red lips, swollen from your kisses. "I didn't know you could be so sweet."

Tim craned his neck and you seized the moment to leave a wet hickey on his smooth skin, he smelled so good you thought you could just snuggle into his chest and sniff his scent. And why did you even bother with these childish, silly games with Bateman? Unfortunately, some questions never had answers, but it didn't matter now. Not when you could find comfort in the arms of Patrick's best friend.

God, I wish you could see me right now.

"There's so little you know about me, baby." He chirped before helping you take off your coat, his impatience turning you on wildly.

With a soft giggle, you unbuttoned your shirt. "Huh, baby? Really? And I thought you were the type who didn't use such primitive nicknames."

Smirking, you teased him with the slow rocking of your hips against his, feeling his hard length pressed against your burning core, and it spurred you to move faster, more erratically, as you unexpectedly became as impatient as he was. And even though you didn't like losing control, you wanted to get lost right now, even though you'd probably regret it tomorrow, but at least the regret would be different.

Nibbling at the artery on your neck, Timothy grabbed your ass tighter to make the friction more vivid, his finger digging into the expensive material of your Gucci pants. "I can call you anything you want," he growled into your collarbone, your shirt half undone. "Just tell me what you want to be tonight?"

"I can be anything," you caught his warm lips with your own to kiss him again in a way that bordered on desperation, as if your life depended on it, and he responded with the same ferocity. "Anything you want..."

Chuckling at your cheeky statement, the man lounged in his seat and looked at you up and down, admiring the way your clothes were disheveled, your hair was nothing like it had been when you had just arrived at the wedding and even your feelings were different. Everything was different now, the whole world seemed to diminish to the size of the interior of the limousine and you both wanted this moment to last forever, but you knew it was impossible.

Bryce decided to use his mouth in a more effective way than just talking, latching it around your nipple through your shirt, but then taking it off completely and swirling his tongue around your hard tip.

"Don't be anything," he quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled out his hard cock. "Just be mine tonight."

You couldn't hide a smile of genuine satisfaction as his words struck a chord in your chest. "Deal."

With that, you carefully rose from his lap to position yourself between his wide-open legs, watching him touch himself with pure abandon. And yet, everything about Tim was far too alien, your mind kept bringing back the memories of what had happened in the bathroom a few hours ago. It hurt, it hurt so much that you almost chewed your cheek to the point of blood to hold back the tears. Bryce, you had to focus on Bryce, he was here, right in front of you, all spread out and pumping his thick cock.

Stop thinking about Bateman!

"Are you sure you know what to do?" Timothy glared down at you, concerned by the sudden change in your demeanor.

Shaking yourself off, you smiled in reply and before you knew it, your hand was sliding along his, then completely replacing it and stroking his dick vigorously, smearing his dense pre-cum all along your hand.

"Watch me," you murmured and lowered yourself even more to take him in your mouth, savoring his salty taste. "Mhhm...fuck, Bryce, you taste so good."

Tim couldn't stop himself from moaning, grabbing the edge of the seat and closing his eyes in ecstasy. "Keep going," he purred, fighting the urge to fuck your throat. "Shit... Bateman doesn't even know what he lost."

Bryce's words almost made you choke on his beefy shaft, but it only took a moment to pull yourself together and just enjoy the way his dick slid in and out of your mouth. As the man pushed himself further, the tip brushing against your throat, you leaned against his hips for support, allowing him to have his way with you. Just the sight of him made you tremble with desire, as you had never really thought that Tim could be so hot, not that you had any doubts that he was a skilled lover, but reality never ceased to surprise you.

"I...I'm so fucking close...uh," his voice dropped even lower, eloquent proof of his words. "Your mouth...arhhh...you know how to work magic with your mouth, babe."

Although you had always denied having a praise kink, being with Tim was the first time you were truly willing to admit that you did have a praise kink. Every little praise he gave you was like balm to your broken soul, encouraging you to suck him harder, to drink him dry. These two men were far too unlike each other, but in the end, you seemed to crave them both.

Being so close to falling apart, Bryce couldn't control himself any more and took a handful of your hair and plunged full length into your bruised mouth until you both noticed that the car had stopped. Tim swore loudly but that didn't stop you and the next thing you remembered was feeling thick ropes of his hot cum shooting down your throat and you could swear it tasted so fucking sweet. Maybe you were delusional, maybe it was just another hallucination–you didn't care because you were high like no drugs could make you.

I'll remember that taste for sure.

A little later, you didn't know exactly how much time had passed, and you didn't recollect how the two of you had gotten into Bryce's apartment. You didn't care about the luxury of this place, how expensive the furniture was, how soft the silk sheets were when you fell on them, your naked skin sliding along the cold material like a ship on waves. You were about to lose all connection to reality when Tim climbed on top of you, his hairy chest rubbing against yours, your legs wrapped around his waist and you couldn't stifle a moan as his leaky dick rubbed against your legs.

Creasing the sheets, you raked your hand through his black, tousled hair, pulling him closer so that your lips could collide in a hunger kiss. "Fuck me, Tim," you murmured unexpectedly, brushing your feet against his hips. "Fuck me like there's no tomorrow."

"Are you always this needy?" He teased, biting your lower lip and licking it after a quick nibble. "Or is it because of me?"

Perplexed, you stopped doing anything as his words left you pondering. "I... I don't know... I don't know who I really am..."

Bryce nodded without saying anything, his nose touching yours in a brief moment of genuine affection, and somehow you thought he understood everything, that he could read you like an open book and there was no need for you to explain. Pecking your cheek, the man slowly turned you over on your stomach and you quickly got down on all fours because you couldn't wait any longer. Bucking your hips, you turned around to see him positioning himself behind you, his warm palm caressing your ass before a finger probed your tight hole, making you gasp but you didn't falter, showing him how ready and eager you were.

"Uhh," Tim stroked himself several times before aligning himself with your opening and diving in with a slow, deliberate thrust. "Fuck...mmhm-fuck."

The mere thought that he had been imagining Evelyn all this time, starting with you giving him head, suddenly made you angry, and for a brief second you allowed yourself to imagine that it was Patrick who was stretching you from the inside, but somehow you began to feel even worse.

"I'm sorry...I'm not Evelyn," you blurted out without thinking. "But I..."

"Shut up," he cut you off and slammed into you relentlessly, forcing you to take him, no matter how painful it was. "I don't want to hear about her...not even a thing."

Bryce was right, it was so fucking stupid of you to bring Evelyn at such a moment, but it was so hard for you to think clearly and Tim's fat cock didn't help at all, the fullness it gave you was completely overwhelming. It made you forget everything and you didn't even want to compare your sensation with the way Patrick made you feel - your mind was finally free of any emotions or thoughts–you were drowning in a carnal lust. You were both extremely vocal, poor neighbors who could hear you at this hour, but Timothy seemed to be completely indifferent as he set the pace, pounding into you with all his might, each stroke full of desperation and unbridled passion.

By the time dawn broke, you couldn't remember how many orgasms you'd both had, as you'd probably tried every possible and impossible position. You managed to be on your knees for him, under him, on top of him. It was madness you never thought you were capable of. As you rode his face, touching yourself, you cried out Bryce's name, not even afraid to accidentally use Patrick's name instead.

"Tim...mhmm-fuck...Tim...I'mma cum!" You fisted his hair, sliding along his glistening face as you rubbed your most sensitive spot. "Fuck...yeahh-Tim...ahhh!"

Shaking, you cum around his face, feeling his strong tongue move inside your tight ass as your inner channel spasmed around it, causing him to moan and hold you close to prolong your climax. Time stopped for both of you with the last stroke of his tongue along your tender flesh and you both collapsed exhausted on the bed.

The first rays of the sun awoke you earlier than you could have imagined. As you lazily got up from the bed, trying not to disturb Tim snoring peacefully, you checked the time before you started looking for your clothes. To be honest, you wanted to stay here in his bed and continue to sleep in his arms, but you knew it would only lead to destruction and you were sure that Bryce thought the same.

Maybe it was a mistake?

Frowning, you wanted to punch yourself for being so reckless and stupid, but Tim's loud exhale caught your attention. You turned to check on him before leaving his bedroom to quickly get dressed and use the bathroom. All the while, you tried to ignore your own reflection, feeling the shame and contempt eating away at you from within, though you didn't even understand why. Bryce wanted this to happen as much as you did, but no matter how hard you tried to reassure yourself, it just didn't seem right. After one last look in the large mirror above the sink, you left the bathroom and soon after you left Timothy's apartment.

The taxi ride back to the Plaza Hotel didn't take long as it was only six in the morning. Looking out the window, you saw rare pedestrians walking here and there, some of them holding newspapers that you were sure were the New York Times. The tops of the skyscrapers were about to reach the sky, and every time you craned your neck to look at them, your head began to spin. All these little details made you realize that you missed New York and probably your former life?

Was it worth it leaving everything behind?

This question kept swirling around in your head even as you finally got back into your suit and decided to take a shower to clean up after such a wild day. Dear God, you just fucked two different men in one day.

"I'm so pathetic..." You muttered to yourself as you stood under the hot water. "What am I going to do now?"

Pressing your head against the wet tiled wall, you gave up and let the tears flow down your face, the water washing them away in an instant. You felt guilty, thinking that you'd only used Bryce for your own needs, knowing that it wouldn't lead to anything serious, but you did it anyway. It was so damn selfish. But then you remembered the words Patrick had said to you in the bathroom just before the ceremony started. You clenched your hand into a fist and the next second you slammed it into the wall with all the strength you had. The blow was so strong that your hand began to bleed, but you ignored it because physical pain was nothing compared to the emptiness inside your soul. As if under a spell, you kept hitting the wall, leaving bloodstains on it.

Five hours later, you are sitting in the restaurant area of the Plaza, waiting for Paul Allen to join you for lunch. Since you had some time before your flight to Chicago, you thought it would be good to catch up with him and talk a little about your current situation at your new job.

Maybe I can get a fresh start here...

Rocking in your seat, you looked down at your bruised hand, which was covered in a tight white bandage, and luckily you managed to stop the bleeding without going to the hospital, but you were still a little nervous, though not because of your wound. What if Paul would tell you that there was no way you could return to New York because the company in Chicago wouldn't let you go? You tapped your fingers on the table in anxiety before picking up the New York Times to distract yourself. One page, then another, until an interesting article appeared in your vision–a luxurious tobacco store in Upper Manhattan had been robbed–the very store you always liked to visit and even dreamed of buying a collection of cigars to give to Patrick...

"(Y/n)! How have you been?" Paul's cheerful voice echoed across the room and when you turned to face him, you noticed that he looked even more tanned than the last time you saw him.

"Oh, hi," you accepted his handshake and then Allen took a seat across from you. "I've been better," your other hand was still holding a newspaper and it caught Paul's attention. "What about you?"

Paul nodded in understanding. "Well, my job kicks my ass, is all I can say," he laughed, and before you could say anything else, he pointed to the copy of the New York Times. "What are you reading?"

Slightly embarrassed, you folded the paper and put it aside. "Times," you replied briefly. "The tobacco store I liked to visit was robbed in broad daylight. Can you imagine that?"

Allen shifted in his seat. "I didn't know you frequented places like this," he chuckled, finally opening the menu. "Because I don't remember you smoking."

Smirking, you leaned back in your chair. "You don't know anything about me, Allen," you took a sip of your wine and watched him tense up a bit. "Anyway, I just got a little upset because I wanted to buy something in this store for..." you suddenly stammered, feeling dizzy.

"For...?" Paul arched his eyebrows and looked at you suspiciously.

"For a person... ," you finished. "...a very special one."

"Your date?" The man asked in a playful tone. "And who might that be?"

You found this situation quite ironic, because you really imagined yourself going to that store and buying those fucking cigars, hoping they would impress Bateman, and now you ended up fucking his best friends because he married Evelyn Williams.

As you propped yourself up on your elbow, you suddenly started to laugh, but then it turned into a pathetic whimper. "I'm so fucked up, Allen," you shook your head and gripped the table. "You can't even imagine how... fucked up... I am."

And I don't know how I'm going to survive this.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

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