#but anyone putting me in makeup is way up close. and very quickly starts wondering why i look so flat when they're colormatching at first

[practically-an-x-man]

I never realize how unevenly pigmented my skin is until someone has to put me in makeup lol

[fangsforiris]

Kanato Sakamaki HC’S

Word Count: 10,004 Included Topics: General, Looks, Hair, Body, Skincare, Makeup, Voice, Mentality, Family, Brides/Yui, Academics, Fashion, Magic & Bag.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [General]

🕯️ He has an uncanny interest in death and dead bodies. (Canon fact.)

🕯️ He likes watching Reiji bake. The way he so skillfully moves his fingers, and how he never questions his movements is fascinating.

🕯️ He listens to Melanie Martinez and Malice Mizer.

🕯️ He worked as Karlheinz’s secretary for a few years, starting when he was 13. He stopped when he was 16. 

🕯️ People in the Royal Court really liked him, and Karlheinz liked having a, in his words, ‘pretty thing’ next to him in every meeting. 

🕯️ Cordelia also worked as Karlheinz’s secretary when she first met him, before having an arranged marriage. She was a minor, while he was well into his 20’s. (Canon fact that he groomed her.)

🕯️ Karlheinz definitely forcibly feminizes Kanato. 

🕯️ As in, he definitely enjoys when he cross-dresses. Much to Kanato’s displeasure. 

🕯️→ It’s already established how horrible Karlheinz is, so I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that. 

🕯️ Kanato sometimes uses his looks to his advantage, such as getting things for free since people assume he’s a girl. Some of the things people bought him for free: drinks, clothing, makeup, jewelry, food, whatever it may be. 

🕯️ Him acting like a deer in the headlights also helps get him out of trouble. 

🕯️ Call it pretty privilege. 

🕯️ Once he and Ayato were trespassing and when an officer came up to them, he used his charms to get them both out of trouble. 

🕯️→ “Oi! You two, hands where I can see them.” The officer blared his flashlight at the two siblings, their eyes squinting from the sudden blindness. Ayato groaned, putting up his hands, “Ugh, what is it?”

🕯️→ Kanato slowly put his hands down, looking at the officer with big doe eyes, batting his eyelids slowly, “Oh! I’m so sorry officer… you see me and my brother got lost! I happened to drop my ring while we were here… and… I couldn’t find it.”

🕯️→ The officer stared at Kanato, his severe demeanour softening as he was temporarily struck by the innocent charm that radiated from him. “Lost, huh?” he mumbled, his voice no longer harsh. “Well, you two ought to have taken greater caution. Trespassing is a serious offense.”

🕯️→ Kanato nodded earnestly, his act of innocence unwavering. “Yes, officer, we understand,” he replied softly, his voice laced with feigned sincerity. “We'll be more careful next time, I promise.”

🕯️→ Ayato rolled his eyes, but remained silent as the officer sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, just make sure you don’t come back here again,” he warned, before turning to leave. “And find that ring quickly. We don’t want anyone else getting into trouble over it.”

🕯️→ As the officer left, Kanato let out a sigh of relief. “That was close.” Ayato turned to face Kanato, a smirk playing on his lips. “Too close, also–”

🕯️→ “Not another word,” Kanato interrupted sharply, shooting Ayato a warning glance. Ayato chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright then,” he knew better than to push his luck with Kanato when he was in one of his moods.

🕯️ Kanato often wonders about the possibility of going missing. It’s a fantasization of his to see if anyone truly cared about him. He’d also want to know if he’d make it out alive. It’s one of those dark thoughts that come up every once in a while, more so when he’s doing the dishes. 

🕯️ He definitely has one of those girl blogger accounts.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Looks]

🕯️ Kanato is obsessive about his appearance. 

🕯️ From afar you wouldn’t guess it, but Kanato cares a lot about his image, he wants every single thing about his appearance to be perfect. 

🕯️ He has a set image that he was to adhere to 24/7 and if just one thing is off he’ll spiral. (Think of Reiji with absolutely anything, but multiply it by 100x. It’s that bad.) 

🕯️ Kanato has very soft feminine features. 

🕯️ His obsession started because of his mother, who valued her looks along with his. Also partially influenced by those around him in the Royal Court, who at first glance, would identify the similarities between the two. 

🕯️ In fact, Karlheinz would be skeptical for a bit of Kanato’s true gender, finding it uncanny with the parallels surrounding his first wife and 4th son. He’d treat Kanato as a girl despite knowing later on that he isn’t. 

🕯️ This would partially add to Kanato’s slight (not really slight) insecurity of not being seen as ‘man enough’ or atleast a boy. 

🕯️ Since he looks the most like Cordelia, she would keep him on a strict regime so as to not ‘ruin her name.’ 

🕯️ Kanato’s desired image depicts a doll. He wants so badly to look and feel like a doll. In the sense that it’s hauntingly ethereal, and those who cast their gaze upon him are forced to stop and stare. 

🕯️ Almost like his mother, but part of him knows he doesn’t want anyone to see him in that sort of light. Just in the way that they can’t take their eyes off him, and are filled with envy of how surreal he is. 

🕯️ He wants his very entity to invoke a sense of surrealism. As if he came out of a 1900’s portrait, and just looking at him gives off an ‘out of body’ experience. 

🕯️ He prides himself dearly on his looks, but that also has its limitations. (Semi-canon fact.)

🕯️ Sometimes, he wonders how his life would be if he were to look more like his first cousins-once removed (Shin and Carla) and brothers. Would his mother still take pride in him the same way? 

🕯️ Because of him gaining Cordelia’s features, many upon first meeting assume he’s a girl. He gets upset at this, but other times he’d leave it be and proceed to accept it as a compliment. 

🕯️ He’s also pretty short, especially compared to his brothers, so the shock factor from others when discovering he’s a boy also adds to the whole ‘Kanato Experience.’ 

🕯️ TW!! He is used to being catcalled and harassed because of his looks. These are the moments where he wonders if it’s a curse or a blessing to look so much like his mother. 

🕯️ TW!! Due to this, he understands both perspectives, both men and women, and has slight empathy towards their struggles. (Slight. As this is still Kanato we’re talking about.) 

🕯️ TW!! But he has only felt true fear when he was placed in a situation where he happened to be barricaded and incapable of fighting them off. He wondered how he was so powerless, as his hands shook and his body trembled. How he was so quick to become prey instead of the predator. 

🕯️ TW!! He’s had some close calls of being assaulted, especially with the majority of men who are physically larger and stronger than him, but has been saved by older women and couples. 

🕯️ TW!! After this happens, he is usually filled with feelings of resentment and self-loathing. Such as → ‘Why was I so weak? I am no mortal.’ and ‘If the others saw me, they’d call me pathetic– I was pathetic.’ 

🕯️ TW!! Kanato would rather die or skin himself alive than admit he’d been placed in such a situation far too many times for his liking. With countless close calls at that. He wouldn’t want to be seen as a victim like Laito, and definitely not be doted on with the focus of his weakness being called into question. 

🕯️ Because of this, on his days out into the town/out of the house, he carries pepper spray and a small retractable pink combat knife. Just in case his vampiric strength isn’t enough. 

🕯️ Slight TW!! Kanato has been catcalled by Ayato and Laito, before the former two would realize and profusely apologize for mistaking him for a girl. It was embarrassing when he happened to be at the dessert cafe he particularly enjoys in Vandead Carnival, picking up macaroons for Laito and him, when his two brothers started hitting on him out of nowhere. 

🕯️ Ayato would initially not talk to him for a week, making a point to avoid him in every single room they both happened to enter, before Kanato would throw his Teddy at him. 

🕯️ Laito on the other hand, would laugh it off. But inside he’d somewhat hate himself and think back to the similarities towards Kanato and their mother. It’d make him feel more uncomfortable if anything. 

🕯️ Upon first meeting, the Mukami’s would assume Kanato was a girl as well. They’d find out the hard way when Kanato rejects both Yūma and Kou’s advances and Ayato pipes in to get them away from his brother. 

🕯️→ “Oi! Kanato ain’t a girl, that’s my brother, you half-blooded creeps!” 

🕯️→ “Didn’t you and Laito also mistake him for some chick…?”  Shuu would retort, causing the former to go silent and red, while Laito waves his hands dismissively, giving small uncomfortable chuckles. 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Hair]

🕯️ He prides himself on his purple hair (Canon fact.) 

🕯️ His hair is kept at a medium length, sometimes reaching his collarbone. 

🕯️ Kanato trims his hair every month. 

🕯️ He has a step by step hair care routine.

🕯️ He washes his hair 1-2 times a week.

🕯️His hair is naturally silky smooth, however it’s more flat in comparison to having volume (smooth > volume, flat > fluffy.) 

🕯️ Shockingly, out of the triplets he has the best hygiene, even going as far to rival Reiji in that department. 

🕯️ He likes to smell like strawberries and vanilla. The light, cute scents that many associate with those girls from shoujo mangas. He absolutely adores it. 

🕯️ He owns high grade shampoo, conditioner, hair masks, hair oils, and even purple shampoo just in case his natural colour lightens even more to his dismay. 

🕯️ He makes sure to wash, shampoo and condition his hair correctly, ensuring that he doesn’t get back acne or neck acne from leaving the product to suck into the skin. 

🕯️ It’s one of his pet peeves to have acne there, and also upsets him greatly when feeling an unnecessary bump on his ‘need to be’ smooth porcelain skin. 

🕯️ Kanato takes an ‘everything shower’ every end of the month, which includes him staying in the shower for 2-3 hours on end, deeply perfecting everything. 

🕯️ This heavily annoys the others, as he tends to take long, hot, excruciating showers which drains the hot water and ups the water bill each month. (To Shuu and Reiji’s dismay.)

🕯️ But make no mistake, Kanato benefits from the hot steam of the shower in comparison to just submerging his entire body in it. If he did, his entire body would be pruned up. Not a good look for his tastes. 

🕯️ His hair used to be darker, a more accurate colour match to Cordelia’s, but overtime due to stress, it lightened. 

🕯️ He prides his hair— and so does his mother. On most nights when she wasn’t dealing with Laito, she’d stay in his room, make Kanato sit in front of his vanity on his chair, and brush his hair. 

🕯️ It was an intimate moment for the two of them where their relationship grew. Oftentimes she’d take solace in these moments and reveal information about herself that no one else would hear. And Kanato would listen. 

🕯️ It was like their own little secret. Their thing that nobody else could take away from them. 

🕯️ This is where Kanato would find his likability to being seen as and called ‘a doll.’ 

🕯️ Cordelia would oftentimes refer to him as her doll or just the nickname ‘doll.’ 

🕯️→ “My little doll, you’re like Mommy when you’re quiet like this.”

🕯️→ “Am I, Mother?”

🕯️→ Cordelia would smile fondly, “Most definitely. You’re lucky to look like me, you know? Who else would dare to pay attention to you or your talents otherwise.”

🕯️→ Kanato would turn his head when he noticed his mother stop, the brush still clutched in her hands. He met her eyes, “I am?”

🕯️→ She’d put the brush down on the vanity, motioning towards the mirror where the two saw their reflection. Emerald green and pure lilac glew, its prominent glow reflecting off the mirror in the dark room, causing the latter to blink for good measure. Kanato would focus diligently, watching for what his mother had to say next. “Yes. Would you like to know a secret, doll?”

🕯️→ He’d nod, “You’ve always been my favourite. Your brothers just don’t have what I and everyone else sees in you.” His eyes would sparkle at that comment, leaving Cordelia to play with his hair.

🕯️→ “I’m… Mommy’s favourite?” The woman smiled, moving her hand to caress her son’s face, the looking glass delaying, “You will always be Mommy’s favourite.”

🕯️ He would never tell anyone of those nights, especially her admittance to him being her favourite. It was one of the secrets he’d take to the grave. 

🕯️→ (This reminded me of the audio on TikTok: My father is the worst person in the world; and I’m his favourite daughter.) 

🕯️ After Cordelia died, he’d sometimes hold his hair and play with it the same way she did to remember the fond memories and secrets they’ve shared. 

🕯️ After his makeup routine, he would style his hair accordingly. 

🕯️ He normally lets his hair air dry, mainly to prevent heat damage. 

🕯️ But in the slight occurrence he absolutely has to use a hairdryer, he will. 

🕯️ He always brushes his hair every time before bed, and in the morning. Exactly 12 strokes each time. Don’t ask. He simply thought the number was perfect for his hair and always does the trick every time. 

🕯️ His hair doesn’t usually tangle. 

🕯️ Kanato uses mousse on his hair when he wants the definition of volume. After this, he’d style his side bangs accordingly. 

🕯️ Sometimes he’d clip his side bangs to the side with his cute clips. The girls at school love this. They eat it up every time. Some even ask for hair tips as his hair is always shiny and well kept. 

🕯️ He always has a comb in his bag, just in case if his hair gets messy. He also keeps portable, travel sized, hair care products. 

🕯️ You know those hair gel glue sticks mainly used for fly aways? He 100% uses them and brings them in his small bag everywhere he goes. He can’t stand the fact that if one thing is wrong, it’ll tear him apart. 

🕯️ Kanato absolutely hates frizzy hair. He does everything to prevent it. Another reason why he isn’t as fond of the rain, it messes up his hair. 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Body]

🕯️ Kanato has a slim body. 

🕯️ Almost like the ballerina type, but more towards the feminine side of things. 

🕯️ He has long legs, with his torso being a bit more shorter than he’d like. All of this adds to the doll vibe he wants, though. 

🕯️ His neck isn’t that long, and his head is an appropriate size (in his opinion.)

🕯️ He’s more bony if anything, due to his unhealthy tendencies. 

🕯️ His ribcage can almost be seen, but that doesn’t stop the fact that his waist is still defined. 

🕯️ Put simply, he has a bony version of an hourglass figure. There’s fat, but it’s heavily set on the ‘almost anorexic’ side of the scale, especially defined by doctors and the countless physicians that have attended him. 

🕯️ When comparing his mother and him, she really shines when comparing their bodies. It’s like that’s the one thing the genes had to dominate. If he were a woman, their bodies would be exactly the same. Only major difference is Kanato lacks the fat on his body. 

🕯️ It freaks him out sometimes with how skin tight his body happens to appear. But that also gratifies him. Knowing that whatever it is he’s doing is working, makes for a great remedy in a psychotic episode. 

🕯️ Kanato really is almost like skin and bones. It does add to the living doll thing, though. 

🕯️ His collarbone is quite defined, along with his broad-set shoulders. 

🕯️ His complexion is quite fair. 

🕯️ He doesn’t have any known birthmarks to him, his skin is like a blank canvas. 

🕯️ His favourite part of his body are his hands and lips. There’s just something about the fragility of the two that intrigue him. 

🕯️ He loves the natural curve of his lips, the way that it can easily be rosier by biting it or putting more product on it. 

🕯️ It’s obsessive the way he tends to his lips. Always subjecting it to lip scrubs, and moistures. He really likes the way they perfect his face. 

🕯️ Kanato’s hands. Where to begin? He likes the way they’re thin and long. Not too long, that would freak him out. But just enough to allow him to examine them in a deeper context. 

🕯️ He does his best to not bruise them as bad, and if he were to, he’d want to have a contrast of red and pink splotches on his knuckles. He absolutely loves the contrast of the fair skin to the bruised bits. That goes for anyone. 

🕯️ His nails are always maintained. Always done. Either professionally or himself, he can’t catch himself falling short of his list of long expectations for himself. 

🕯️ They’re always filed nicely, and he always keeps his cuticles pushed back. 

🕯️ It’s always a medium length, perfect if he needed to open anything, pick a lock, or defend himself. He especially likes when he sees the damage his nails can cause his victims. 

🕯️ What he doesn’t like is cleaning the dried up blood from his nails. He hates the dirt and grime, but alas such pleasures do have consequences. 

🕯️ Speaking of, he normally paints his nails. Like you’ll never see him without painted nails. If they aren’t painted, someone call the ambulance immediately. 

🕯️ Kanato usually paints them sheer colours. Queue the jelly nail polish. He loves the pink ones, and how it delivers contrasts to his sickly pale hands. 

🕯️ He’ll do other colours, and even full ones but you’ll definitely see this boy with his signature pink. 

🕯️ He’ll even go as far as adding glitter. He loves the sparkly look, it reminds him of what he majorly missed out as a child. 

🕯️ Kanato has 2 ear piercings. One on both ears for his central lobe, the other on both ears as a helix.

🕯️ This was because he was pressured by Ayato and Laito to get another piercing and ‘live a little.’ They used it as a bonding exercise. 

🕯️ Kanato likes to act like he hates it, but secretly he enjoys the variety of earring combinations he can experiment with. 

🕯️ He mainly goes for diamond glittery earrings that don’t dangle as much. Mainly studs. However if it was a special event, then he’d have more of a statement earring in.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Skincare]

🕯️ He has a set skincare routine.

🕯️ He does his skin care every night. He never misses a day. 

🕯️ Kanato has dry skin, but not as sensitive. 

🕯️ He usually uses moisturizers to hydrate his skin, followed by a hydrating serum which is notably his favourite part of his routine. He likes the way he can squeeze the tube connected to the cap of the bottle, how squishy and malleable it is. 

🕯️ Also the way the serum falls on his face, he has no idea why that particularly catches his attention, but he’s fine with it nonetheless. 

🕯️ Kanato despises his eye bags, loathes it even, so you know he’s dead-set on doing everything possible to get rid of them, or atleast make them not as noticeable. They really hinder with the whole ‘doll-look’ he’s trying to viciously obtain. Queue the eye cream and patches. 

🕯️ Shockingly, they do wonders. And anything that isn’t as covered is covered by his makeup routine (mainly his colour correcting concealer and skin-tint light coverage foundation.) 

🕯️ He has very clear skin, and rarely gets acne/pimples. He is only second to having the best skin out of his brothers, the first being Shuu. 

🕯️ The skin care he uses is bought in small quantities, the only thing he regularly buys in bulk are his eye cream and patches. 

🕯️ He always starts his skincare routine by drenching his face in an ice-cold ice bath for 10 minutes, to reduce any puffiness he might have. 

🕯️ Kanato wears contacts most days, only resorting to his glasses if he absolutely has to. His glasses are black cat eye framed. He used to have a rose gold frame but he didn’t like how washed out it made his skin. 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Makeup]

🕯️ He uses makeup 100% (How else will he keep up his doll-like image?)

🕯️ He never needs to use any high coverage foundation considering that his skin is quite clear. He uses a light coverage skin-tint. 

🕯️ Considering that his complexion is more on the gray-side, he makes it a point to go outside in the sun more often without his umbrella.

🕯️ Because of this, he uses products with shade ranges that keep his very fair skin satiated. 

🕯️ Kanato’s concealer usage mainly goes to colour correcting and removing his eye bags. Everything else is fine in his eyes, it’s just his over dramatic, very dragged out and accentuated eye bags that make his face feel dragged out. 

🕯️ His contouring is quite limited, as he only applies his contour stick to accentuate his jaw, nose, and forehead. He’s satisfied with a softer approach as he prefers softer features in comparison to sharper. 

🕯️ This goes for both himself, and any sacrificial bride/potential love interest he’d set his eyes on. 

🕯️ He uses press powder. Kanato loves dipping his cushion into the powder, pushing and dabbing it onto his face and watching as some of the dust would collect around him in the air. 

🕯️ It’s like those old movies he’d watch with his brothers when they were younger, where the woman would enjoy having their makeup montage. It’s that satisfaction that allows him to revel in his routine. 

🕯️ Once he’s finished with that, his blush takes the center stage. He uses a moderately tinted blush, but uses only a small limited amount so as to not overpower his facial symmetry. It also tends to bring colour to his face and make him feel ‘alive’ so it’s extra important he gets it right. 

🕯️ Kanato also uses the powder blush found in the palettes. 

🕯️ He once tried liquid blush but instantly hated it as he could never get the timing right for how much he needed. Palette is much easier, safer, and plus, he enjoys seeing the product collect on the makeup brush, and tapping it ever so slightly for pan fallout. 

🕯️ His eyes. His absolute favourite part of doing his makeup every single time is the eye makeup. From eyeshadow, to mascara, to the eyeliner. It’s perfection. 

🕯️ He starts with his eyeshadow. He usually uses K-Beauty, considering that the K-Pop idols there have great taste for the glittery glam he’s looking for. It ranges from what he’s feeling, but most of the time you’ll see him with small copious amounts of glitter adorning his eyelids. 

🕯️ And it’s always perfection, seriously, he never misses. It’s often a fan favourite with the girls at school. 

🕯️ Kanato would start with a base colour, blending it with another before adding the small glitter adornments. He usually drifts towards soft pinks, but will use the pastels for blue and purple. 

🕯️ He never uses any of the brighter/riskier colours/shades. He prefers the softer, more pastel colours that add to his appeal. The browns/neutrals are okay too. 

🕯️ Next, his eyeliner. He tends to go for the middle ground. He has great precision, and always hits the mark on the first try. A signature cat-eyeliner is something he’d never dare to leave the house without. 

🕯️ For his lids, he uses liquid liner. For his water line, both top and bottom, a crayon/kajol based mixture. He does this to lessen the load of his already big eyes. 

🕯️ On the top, he strictly uses black. On the bottom? A combination of black and white to obtain his doll look. Near his inner corner close to his nose, he adds more white, then it blends as he reaches a half-way point before he transitions to black. 

🕯️ Admittedly, it was a lot of trial and error but once he got the hang of it, he looked more like a doll than he did bare-faced. 

🕯️ Finally, his mascara. He tends to use a waterproof mascara because of his tantrums. In the past he tried other colours than black, but found that he didn’t like them as much as the effect black had on him. 

🕯️ Also good to note that his eyelashes are long. Like you’d assume he got them done, but then be shocked that it’s all natural. Definitely one of the points many girls are jealous of. 

🕯️ Since his lips aren’t as rosy as he’d like them, he uses lip tints and red-pink lip glosses. Sometimes he’d go the matte look with his lips, others he enjoys the pop of lip gloss. 

🕯️ It’s a pet peeve to have chapped lips. He hates it. Doesn’t matter who has them, it’s hatred all around. Because of this, he keeps extra chapstick (strawberry flavoured, obviously) for his brothers when he sees them. 

🕯️→ “Eh? What’s this, Kanato?”  Laito would ponder, seeing the chapstick being thrust into his hands and a bratty Kanato turning his head away to face the walls of the limo. His arms crossed across his chest as if to prove his point further. 

🕯️→ “Your lips. Fix it.”  Laito would raise an eyebrow, moving his gaze to examine the chapstick. A smirk would grow as he read the label. ‘Strawberry-flavoured.’

🕯️→ “Whatever is the matter with my–”  Kanato would turn his body, glaring at him before moving closer to Laito. “This is the problem. Please, fix it immediately,”  Kanato would retort, pressing a gloved finger to Laito’s chipping lips, hoping to accentuate his dire point. 

🕯️→ “Oh? My, I had no idea you were so bold, Kanato!”  Laito would chuckle, as he watched his younger brother bat his eyes in confusion before a slight blush creeped up on his face. His frustration building too, no doubt. 

🕯️→ “Laito. Now.”  He was now back to his seating, and after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Laito would give in. 

🕯️→ He’d take off the cap, take in the potent strawberry scent and apply the chapstick to his lips, instantly hydrating and moistening them. Kanato would look back, huffing contently before a sly remark would slip by Laito’s lips, “Mmm, strawberry! How delightful.” A pause, “Is this your subtle way of admitting you’ve been dreaming about kissing me, dear brother?”

🕯️→ Kanato’s eyes would widen, “Huh? Don’t be absurd.”

🕯️→ “Hm, your loss~”  Laito flicked his tongue, tasting some of the strawberry flavour. 

🕯️ Kanato would then apply his highlighter. Always blended in, mainly on the tip of his nose, cheeks, and inner corners of his eyes. It’s a white iridescent highlighter, but sometimes he’d use a light pink tinted one if he runs out. 

🕯️ His setting spray is light, making it easy for him to not feel as overstimulated. 

🕯️ He always carries the travel sized perfume bottles in his bag so he’ll be well prepared, especially after gym class. He isn’t fond of smelling bad. 

🕯️ Strawberry or vanilla is his go to. But many would report him smelling a fond strawberry, making that his signature scent. 

🕯️ He always cleans his makeup brushes every 2-3 weeks. He hates the idea of any bacteria or dirt ruining his face. 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Voice]

🕯️ He has a lighter/higher voice compared to the others, which he definitely hates (but sometimes is at peace with.) 

🕯️ It’s the type that can be light and airy, almost like a girl, but have that small bit of depth when frustrated.

🕯️ Make no mistake, it’s higher than most, which causes him to be mistaken for a girl a lot. (That is, without the looks.)

🕯️ Due to his childhood, his vocal chords are most definitely strained. 

🕯️ As in, he’s a few steps away from becoming mute. But this doesn’t stop him from letting one of his soul-crushing screams out. (Which undoubtedly, adds pressure to his throat, which makes it unbearable hot and sometimes itchy.)

🕯️ In fact, he was forced to sing until his vocal chords started to bleed, filling his mouth and throat with his own blood which definitely tore tissues apart. (Canon fact.) 

🕯️ Sometimes his voice gives out, making him choose silence and only stepping in when he thinks he absolutely has to. 

🕯️ Despite what most think, Ayato and Laito do listen to him in hopes of keeping the peace. 

🕯️ They even take his opinion into account because if Kanato is the voice of reason, then there’s definitely something off and they need to reevaluate themselves. 

🕯️ Kanato drinks a lot of herbal teas, it’s normal for Laito or Reiji (mostly Laito) to make him some because of his strained vocal chords. 

🕯️ Kanato prefers lavender and honey teas, always with 2 and a half sugar cubes. Must be hot but never piping hot to the point where he’ll burn his tongue. 

🕯️ He hates burning his tongue while drinking teas. It makes him have somewhat of a lisp and Ayato teases him about not being careful enough. 

🕯️ He will notice if the tea is not exactly to his liking. If not immediately. 

🕯️ Ayato once tried to make him his tea, and before tasting it, he could smell that something was off. He didn’t add the specific ‘half’ of the sugar cube. Kanato was upset and refused to talk to Ayato for a week, while Ayato profusely apologized since he knew it was a very sore subject. 

🕯️→ (Empathetic as always, Ayato.)

🕯️ Kanato and Reiji regularly drink tea together in the living room, or in Reiji’s office. It’s the one time where Reiji notably enjoy’s Kanato’s company as he isn't as psychotic as he normally comes across. He’s tame, relaxed, and soothed. 

🕯️ Reiji unconsciously finds himself comforted and reveals some of his internal turmoil whilst in Kanato’s presence. There’s just something about the gentle, relaxing presence of Kanato that seems to soothe everyone in the room. As if he can control the entire energy and mood of a room whilst he’s in this state. 

🕯️ Since they’re always together, Laito will become his voice (talk for Kanato) when he cannot, especially when he’s nervous to talk to someone new/foreign to him. 

🕯️ Kanato’s vocal range is very versatile. 

🕯️ He can sing in very high tones, accomplishing high notes with a smooth, steady, and clear confidence. 

🕯️ Ever since the accident with his strained vocal chords, he doesn’t sing as much as he used to. 

🕯️ However, if you saw him in his prime, you’d be filled with envy and shock in an instant. 

🕯️ His singing voice was powerful, it could be light, shrill, and gentle, but also accomplish heightened feats. 

🕯️ He and Shuu did a joint performance at a ball, Shuu played the piano, and Kanato sang whilst sitting atop of the piano. Shuu secretly still has a recording of this performance, unbeknownst to Kanato, and listens to it when he wants to be calmed. 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Mentality]

IMMENSE TW HERE!! 

🕯️ He has severe attachment issues. 

🕯️ Kanato keeps a large assortment of stuffed toys, each with their own distinct name and personality. He’s afraid that if a person were to leave him, he wouldn’t be able to cope, thus turning to inanimate objects to fill the void.

🕯️ → After all, living people can let you down, but how can inanimate objects do the same? 

🕯️ Hence the wax dolls of all the brides he’s ever claimed. He’d like to make them look beautiful, even in their restless display of a tomb. 

🕯️→ It’s the least he could do after claiming their soul, isn’t it? 

🕯️ He also has abandonment issues which stemmed from his childhood. 

🕯️ He stopped placing faith in his brothers when he slowly watched them drift farther away from him, and closer to each other. 

🕯️ Seemingly, almost everyone in his life who he treasured left him high and dry, so he stays away and chooses not to form any deeper connections due to his fear of being left again. 

🕯️ Sometimes he mourns the person he could’ve been if he hadn’t been a vampire. If he could be considered a ‘morally good’ person, that is. 

🕯️ Kanato also mourns the family he could’ve had, if he were dealt better cards. 

🕯️ Admittedly, the facade that he keeps up is wearing on him. He finds it emotionally draining to always be on edge and be in competition with his brothers. 

🕯️ The hostility that floods the air is always suffocating, but he knows that no one wants to change, so he plays the part of ‘the hysteric’ to the best degree before he entirely burns himself out. 

🕯️ His entire ‘hysteric’ facade is just that. An act. He only does it so he’d have a defining feature for him like his other brothers, and because it made people weary and afraid of him. 

🕯️ It took away all the unwanted attention off him, especially from those with gazes that lingered a bit too long on his body for his comfort. 

🕯️ He’s very insecure of his eyebags, voice, wrists, and shockingly his weight. 

🕯️ TW!! He has self-harmed before for attention, just to be seen by his mother and not be cast aside like Reiji. (Canon fact.) 

🕯️ When his mother found out, she was furious. She complained ruthlessly, making Kanato feel even worse about himself than he did when he started.  

🕯️ He hates his self-harm scars, despite being a vampire with self-healing, they never seemed to go away.

🕯️ TW!! There are light cuts on his wrists, nearing the veins.

🕯️ He never had the courage to cut anywhere else. It scared him, but he’d never admit that. 

🕯️ TW!! Once he cut too deeply, which made the vein burst. He stopped cutting after that, and after his mother scolded him for ‘ruining his body.’ 

🕯️ Ayato and Laito have no idea of his past self-harming tendencies. His half-brothers also don’t. 

🕯️ Laito has theorized that his early comments in their childhood got to Kanato, so he has a lingering feeling that Kanato did call his bluff. (That is, to encourage Kanato to self-harm for said attention.) [Canon fact.]

🕯️ Nonetheless, he always wears long sleeves and translucent gloves which are sheer and skin tight. They cover his scars slightly, however they aren’t the best method of choice.

🕯️ Kanato wouldn’t admit he’s suicidal, however when compairing himself to the others, he doesn’t find a reason as to why he could be deemed as important.

🕯️ He feels constantly pushed away, so if he were to die, he’d be okay and at ease with it. 

🕯️ But he doesn’t go chasing death constantly. He wants to die, but will let it happen when it happens. 

🕯️ Kind of like Shuu in this case. 

🕯️ His voice may fit the doll-like criteria he places upon himself, however it doesn’t stop the fact that he wishes he could’ve been born a bit more masculine like his brothers so he wouldn’t have to resort to this aesthetic he’s plastered upon himself. 

🕯️ That, and paired with the fact that his voice doesn’t make it easier when people would harass him, assuming he’s a girl. 

🕯️ TW!! Kanato has an eating-disorder. 

🕯️ TW!! This was entirely orchestrated by none other than Cordelia herself. Due to her strict standards, and the constant pressure he put on himself to obtain the ‘perfect doll look,’ he started purging. 

🕯️ All of the desserts he eats would be thrown up, allowing him to ensure his body won’t be ‘ruined’ as his mother used to say. 

🕯️ This habit has gotten so bad and risky that Yui has started to notice a pattern, especially when he’d leave their shared Psychology class at a set time every day. Or how he’d barely eat anything at their monthly dinners and during lunch. He even took lengthy pauses for his blood drinking for good measures. 

🕯️ TW!! Kanato would push his fingers down his throat viciously, uncaring of how the medium length nails scratched at his throat, or how blood started to strain his fingertips and fill his windpipe. After all, he’d throw it all up anyways. 

🕯️ → Yūma happened to be in the bathroom one night, washing his hands as he heard the sounds of strained coughs and retching over the toilet bowl. He couldn’t make out the shoes, and whom they belonged to, but he could tell it was bad. 

🕯️→ When the stall door opened, he laid eyes on Kanato, with small tears staining his baked face, he stiffened. He kept washing his hands as Kanato used the faucet next to him, pressing his hand on the soap dispenser. 

🕯️→ “Um.. are you.. ok?”  Yūma would dare, watching as the smaller boy paid him little mind. 

🕯️→ “Yes. I simply ate something bad, that’s all.”  Kanato was quick, almost too quick with his reply. Yūma narrowed his eyes, before flicking his hands, opting to air dry instead. 

🕯️→ He took in Kanato’s figure, and how shaky he happened to be. What’s more, his hazel gaze traced over Kanato’s wrists, and the small, strategic cuts. If it were anything to go by, that wasn’t normal. Living with Azusa taught you that much. 

🕯️→ “Are you sure? Come to think of it, yer’ pretty pale–”  “I am fine.”  Kanato would swiftly cut the taller man off, not wanting to hear anymore of it, as he took out his makeup pouch and proceeded to fix up his appearance. 

🕯️→ Yūma was stunned, not only at the quick defensive position the boy took, but also at a closer glance for how out of shape he was. He was skinny, too skinny. Even by vampiric standards. His wrists were sticks, and his uniform looked a size or two oversized. 

🕯️→ “Look, I know it ain’t none of my business–”  Kanato stopped what he was doing and turned to meet Yūma. Yūma and his pathetic worried gaze. He planned his next words out carefully, “It isn’t, you’re correct about that much. I am fine. I ate too many parfaits, alright? I don’t appreciate the interrogation.” 

🕯️→ Yūma just stared at him blankly, “Yeah. I can’t force you to say anything, can I?”  Kanato would nod, before finishing his makeup and making a bee-line for the door. “But, you can talk to me if somethins’ botherin’ you… you know that.. right?”  

🕯️→ Yūma kept his eyes trained on the door, more importantly, the figure that stopped. A few tense moments of stillness would then pass before Kanato would murmur, “Yeah, of course.”  

🕯️→ Yūma would watch the door open and close, leaving him alone to reflect about what to do with this newfound knowledge. And if Kanato’s response to his aid was honestly sincere. 

🕯️ Kanato’s eye bags have to be one of the biggest things he hates. He wishes it could instantly go away. He gets enough sleep as is (he thinks?) So why won’t they leave? 

🕯️ Kanato definitely has insomnia. Hence the immense annoyance of said eyebags.

🕯️ He’s had it ever since he was a kid and all he wishes is for it to leave so he could at least look half as decent as the rest of his family. 

🕯️ When Yūma teases him by calling him ‘Eye-Bags’ he feels another bit of his self-esteem shatter. He hates it so much, and is one of the leading causes for his self-loathing. 

🕯️ He smokes. He loves the feeling of nicotine and how he makes him feel more alive.

🕯️ He has BPD.

🕯️ He secretly takes meds for them, but once Yui came to the house, Ayato had accidentally thrown them out thinking they were expired muscle relaxer pills which led Kanato to stay unstable and manic.

🕯️ He knows he needs therapy. However he doesn’t know how he could ever bring that up to Reiji. 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Family]

🕯️ Kanato knows that Laito and Ayato avoid him due to the consistent parallels between him and their mother. 

🕯️ The two think they’ve done a good job at hiding their resentment and slight fear but Kanato can see right through them.

🕯️ Kanato oftentimes mourns the relationship he could’ve had with Ayato and Laito, especially if he wasn’t a carbon copy of their mother.

🕯�� He’d look at old photographs of the three when they were happier and at better terms, then is awakened by the harsh reality that they don’t like him.

🕯️ Oh yeah. They aren’t as fond as Kanato as they’d like to portray. This is mainly because of the similarities between their mother and him. 

🕯️ So everytime Laito pours Kanato a cup of his lavender-honey tea, the latter thinks about how Laito may truly feel to be next to someone who reminds him so much of his trauma.

🕯️ Laito is often uncomfortable with Kanato’s existence. Just because they look alike. If Kanato had the green eyes? Well Laito and Ayato would go into shock. 

🕯️ Ayato only tolerates Kanato because he feels that he has to. Not because he immensely cares as much. (Although, he stays empathetic towards their outcome.)

🕯️ Kanato wishes that he didn’t look like Cordelia on some nights. Especially on the nights where the triplets get into arguments and Ayato ends up saying what they’re all thinking.

🕯️→ “Yeah? Well it ain’t us who looks exactly like our mother! You even act like her too, Kanato.”

🕯️→ The three would all go quiet, with Kanato shaking as he’s registering what Ayato said. He wasn’t his mother. He wasn’t.

🕯️→ “Kanato… I didn’t—”  Ayato choked, “No. You’ve made your point.”  Kanato would leave the room. Leaving a shocked Ayato and silent Laito.

🕯️→ Kanato wouldn’t hear anyone out, and would actively ignore the two before Ayato and Laito trap him on the roof of the school one night during lunch.

🕯️→ “What do you two want?”  Kanato would start, looking at his brothers in annoyance. “We.. we wanted to talk.”  Ayato would chip in, “It’s been a week, Kanato. You cannot seriously expect to win by ignoring us like this, hm?” And Laito would finish. 

🕯️→ “What is there left to say?” Kanato snapped, turning aside to look out at the schoolyard. Ayato let out a softened sigh. “We know we messed up, alright,” he said, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. “But we’re brothers, Kanato.”

🕯️→ Laito’s normally sardonic grin softened as he nodded. With a soft tone, he continued, “We apologize. We went too far.” Emotions seething inside Kanato, his shoulders stiffened. Silence enveloped them, heavy with unspoken tension.

🕯️→ Kanato gave in with a deep breath. He mumbled, “Fine,” his voice barely audible.

🕯️ Subaru once mindlessly let it slip that Kanato deeply resembled his mother while practicing magic. That sent Kanato into a spiral and he stayed up for a week staring at himself through his vanity mirror. 

🕯️ Kanato smokes. Especially with Cordelia. The two would normally go outside in the rose gardens on especially hard days and smoke together. 

🕯️ He started smoking when he was 13, when Cordelia offered him a pack. This is what also strengthened their relationship. 

🕯️ When she died, he started to smoke more. Not because of the guilt or anything, but because he found it to be a remedy for stress. 

🕯️ None of his brothers know that he smokes.

🕯️ He highly values Reiji’s opinion, especially because he’s been there more for him than his own blood brothers have. 

🕯️ He’s slightly jealous of the closer relationship Ayato and Laito have.

🕯️ Cordelia mainly manipulated him a lot. When looking back he wonders how naive he was to believe everything she said. 

🕯️ Karlheinz sometimes mistakes Kanato for Cordelia. Even he isn’t immune to their similarities. 

🕯️ Like when Kanato worked as his secretary, he found himself calling Cordelia’s name instead of Kanato’s, and instantly shutting up after he realizes what he said. This leaves Kanato feeling dumbfounded with the one question resting on his mind, ‘Am I really that similar to her?’ 

🕯️ Kanato would later find out that his mother also worked as his secretary, making the two even more similar than they already appear, much to his dismay. 

🕯️→ “Cordelia, my dear, could you fetch those reports for me?”  Karlheinz's request was gentle, laced with familiarity.

🕯️→ With a stilled hand, Kanato’s breath caught in his throat. Despite a sense of unease, he forced a tight-lipped smile. His voice strained, “Right away, Father.”

🕯️→ Kanato felt the atmosphere change as he made his way to get the reports. He glanced back and saw Karlheinz’s expression go blank as an understanding dawned in his eyes. His brief expression of perplexity as he tried to comprehend his error spoke volumes.

🕯️ Karlheinz wonders if he wants Kanato as an option for the Adam and Eve plan because of Cordelia and Kanato parallels. There’s a small selfish feeling that lingers, making him want to keep Kanato all for himself. 

🕯️ Kanato definitely had to deal with Karlheinz’s weird/creepy advances.  🕯️→ It’s canon that he’s a bit creepy, and definitely messed up, so take that as you’d like.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Brides/Yui]

🕯️His relationship with any sacrificial bride as of late has been at face value. He knows that the way he treats others, especially as a lesser being, is partially motivated by how others have viewed him his entire life. 

🕯️ Kanato simply doesn’t know how to begin changing for the better, so the cycle continues. He’s in an environment that promotes the very bad behaviours that he’s identified. That is, in everyone (the brothers), and in himself. 

🕯️ There was one sacrificial bride before Yui, perhaps ten years before she arrived, who made him hyper aware of what he and his brothers were doing. 

🕯️ The monsters that they were. 

🕯️ That was the first time he ever thought to reevaluate himself as an individual, especially with the bride who would do everything to make him understand that everyone has at least a little bit of humanity in them. 

🕯️ He’d recall the way his father treated the wives, and the way his mother would treat him. It would send him into a spiral, before opting to lessen the way he reacts. 

🕯️ This unknown bride amongst the thousands that have entered the Sakamaki Mansion would die, however at the hands of Laito. 

🕯️ Now that was a turning point for Kanato. It was shocking how that so easily proved the bride’s point, yet he felt so empty about the whole ordeal. 

🕯️ Kanato vowed to remember that bride, name and all. She is also the centerpiece of his wax doll collection, the one who’s perfect in every way. He owes her that much. 

🕯️ He viewed her as a friend if anything. That is, if mortals and immortals could be friends. 

🕯️ He also vowed to figure out how to turn his life around for the better once given the chance. He often thinks about her, and now with Yui here, he thinks that now is the chance to break the cycle. 

🕯️ He often thinks about her a lot. Like she rests constantly on his mind, almost like a lingering repressed feeling.

🕯️ Kanato doesn’t think he could ever be loved. Like for everything, flaws and all. 

🕯️ So when Yui comes around, talking him about everything he does well and how he has a good side, he has no idea if she’s being genuine or if she wants something from him, and only wants to use him just like everyone else has. 

🕯️ He wants Yui to be happy, in his own way of course. But part of him knows that it’ll never be with him. His obsessive tendencies, especially when it comes to love, is the main driving point which pushes people away. 

🕯️ It’ll take him a bit to understand that fully, but once he comes to that settlement, he’ll be okay with giving Yui to one of his brothers. After all, most of the sacrificial brides choose them anyways, so how would this be any different? 

🕯️ When he finds out Yui has Cordelia’s heart, he almost is hurt. Considering how that’s the woman he shared most of his vulnerability with, and who exploited it. 

🕯️ He wonders if Cordelia can talk to Yui in her mind, or subconscious. Considering that they’re two souls in one body. 

🕯️ The more he thinks about it, the more he’s unsettled by the fact that she, the entire time, has taken a backseat and listened to every confidential conversation like some unauthorized third-party. 

🕯️ When he meets Yui, and hears of her temporary permanence within the house, he instantly thinks back to his redemption that the old bride talked about. 

🕯️ After all, there won’t be any more after Yui, right? This can be his chance to make the change he wants. All he has to do… is not get attached. 

🕯️ This is easier said than done, considering how Yui’s blood is almost irresistible. 

🕯️ During the awakening, when Yui would feel pains, Kanato would as well. Since he has her magic and all. 

🕯️ He’d have migraines that would go on for days on end, and the pain in his chest? Unbearable. 

🕯️ Yui and Kanato would have that one thing in common at least, being remnants of Cordelia.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Academics]

🕯️ Kanato is much smarter than he appears. He usually plays dumb to ensure that he isn’t found in any trouble.

🕯️ He’s really good at physics and math. Like a prodigy. The only reason why he hides it is because his mother often said if his true IQ was revealed, it’d put him at risk of being seen as competition and potential execution.

🕯️ He is quite good at the sciences, which is often a conversation point whenever he participates in class. 

🕯️ He always makes it a point to participate at least once for every class he attends. Doesn’t matter how, just knowing that he did one thing is all the motivation he needs to continue. 

🕯️ His schedule is as follows: 

🕯️→ Semester 1: Advanced Functions (Math), Psychology, Physics, Chemistry.

🕯️→ Semester 2: Advanced English, Japanese, Accounting (Business), Calculus and Vectors (Math). 

🕯️ Kanato has Psychology with Yui and often sits in the middle row, considering how he uses glasses. 

🕯️ Yui finds him much more bearable and engaged when in Psychology. 

🕯️ She even willing wanted to be his partner for a project. He accepted and they got the highest grade in the class. 

🕯️ For all of his classes he tries to sit in the middle row. 

🕯️ Karlheinz forces all the boys to take at least one business course so they’ll be prepared if any of them need to take over the family business. Kanato chose accounting since it’s closest to math and he enjoys it. 

🕯️ Since he took Functions (year 2 math course) during summer school, he is in the 3rd year Advanced Functions course. Reiji, Ruki, Carla and Shuu are in his class. 

🕯️ He once corrected Reiji on an answer while he was writing it on the board, to Reiji’s surprise Kanato was right and the teacher applauded Kanato for spotting his mistake. 

🕯️ Reiji, Ruki, and Carla were shocked to know that Kanato’s test scores were pretty high. He even beat Reiji and Ruki, getting 100%. 

🕯️ Shuu couldn’t care less since he barely shows up. He only shows up for tests, which he aces every time. This always pisses Reiji off. 

🕯️ Reiji and Carla are in his Calculus and Vectors class. 

🕯️ Laito is in his Advanced English class, often times he’ll tease him for working but becomes shocked when looking over at his essay for peer editing. (He barely has any mistakes.)

🕯️ Ayato and Kou are in his Japanese class. It’s especially tiring when he has to deal with the two bickering over Yui. 

🕯️ During lunch, you’ll see him and Subaru eating desserts together. Kanato likes the quiet comfort Subaru offers, and Subaru likes the companionship. 

🕯️ If those two aren’t together then it’s Laito and Kanato, however Laito usually ditches him at school. 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Fashion]

🕯️ He’s really good at sewing. So good that he’s made his own clothes, and even could start a small business. (Canon fact.) 

🕯️ He has a small business for clothing. He takes commissions and creates magic. This is mainly done online and his website is the cutest. Kanato really cares about the small, little, intricate details. 

🕯️ He’s made clothing items for himself, Reiji, and sometimes anyone else who asks.

🕯️ Just by looking at someone, he can instantly tell what their measurements are.

🕯️ He loves the Victorian Gothic aesthetic/clothing.

🕯️ This boy loves VKEI. The clothing for him is total eye candy. 

🕯️ Kanato also enjoys the ‘dark coquette’ style.

🕯️ He likes ruffles and embroidered cuffs of sleeves, along with pretty brooches that fit his outfits perfectly. 

🕯️ His shoes have a ½ inch booster insole added in. He adores the clack and click in shoes when he walks, it makes him feel important. 

🕯️ His shoes also have a hidden blade inside, making it accessible to him if he needs to protect himself or fight back. 

🕯️ Kanato is obsessed with shiny jewelry. You’d assume he was a crow. 

🕯️ After his mother died, she left most of her jewelry to Kanato. Most days you’ll see him wear her iconic jade brooch. The one that’s shaped like a flower, with 14k gold detailing. It’s one of his most prized possessions. 

🕯️ He especially likes ancient jewels, the ones that carry magical properties. 

🕯️ Sometimes Kanato will cross dress. He does like the fabrics and can tell what instantly suits him. However everytime he does, for whatever reason (if it’s to get something for someone else, or he’s forced,) he feels that small insecurity taunting him that he’s not and never will be ‘man enough.’ 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Magic]

🕯️ After Cordelia died, all her remaining magic/mana/powers transferred to Kanato, making him like the ‘last living remnant’ of Cordelia (not including the obvious— Yui.)

🕯️ He is really good at using magic, he’s the best out of all his brothers.

🕯️ People usually go to him if they need help with it.

🕯️ He’s memorized countless spell books, even the ones his late mother left him.

🕯️ He has pyrokinesis (Canon fact.) [Fire magic/can control fire.]

🕯️ He can perform soul transfer. (Canon fact.)

🕯️ Kanato loves contacting the other realm (realm of the dead,) he finds it interesting to hear the stories they tell.

🕯️ He has an ‘all seeing eye.’ Basically allows him to see ghosts and the dead.

🕯️ He found this out when he was 5, playing with his dolls and he saw an unknown woman sitting on his bed. She was covered in blood and she had an ax in her skull.

🕯️ This terrified him, but he mustered up the courage to acknowledge her existence.

🕯️ She didn’t say anything, just nodded to his questions. Once he brought this up to his mother but she forced him to never speak of this ability again.

🕯️→ Perhaps she was afraid? Who knows. Definitely not Kanato. 

🕯️ So whenever you see him leaving an extra seat available, another cup of tea, or bowing as a greeting to a seemingly empty space— he’s acknowledging the ghosts that linger in the home.

🕯️ To his surprise, many of the brides linger. He does his best to pay his respects. He at least has some decency to not upset the dead. (Especially since they can pay it back in full.)

🕯️ The main hot spots in the home are near Reiji’s study, the hallway that leads to the grand ballroom, and the torture chamber located far beneath the house. 

🕯️ Once, Reiji realized most of his supplies were misplaced in his laboratory. Turns out it was one of the brides he’d killed years ago who’d done it. Kanato never told him that, and Ayato was blamed and punished. 

🕯️ In his early years, many doctors assumed he had schizophrenia.

🕯️ He was heavily medicated for a while which messed with his cognitive functions.

🕯️ Kanato regularly uses magic, even for the small, simple things. Like turning on lights, closing doors, that stuff. 

🕯️ He feels that his magic is apart of him, so he really values it.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Bag]

Ever wondered what’s in Kanato’s bag? School Bag? Here you have it.

🕯️ Kanato has two bags. His school bag, and his small purse. (Yes he has a purse. But never call it that, it’s a man-purse. He will get insecure and embarrassed immediately.) 

🕯️ In his school bag all of his binders are colour coded, along with his notes.

🕯️ Everything is perfectly organized, from his notes for each class, to his homework and old tests. 

🕯️ He colour codes his notes for each subject, along with the homework assigned. 

🕯️ He takes pride in his note taking skills, since they’re very aesthetic. 

🕯️ Kanato keeps a reusable water bottle with him. Most are shocked that he even drinks water to begin with, but what they don’t know is how it does wonders for his skin. 

🕯️ He also brings his laptop with him every day to school. Sometimes he’ll forget his charger, but normally his classmates let him borrow theirs. 

🕯️ His hand-writing is sometimes messy but their legible. He’s secretly doing practice to improve his cursive. 

🕯️ His pencil case is filled with those over the top cute supplies. As in, he’ll have a teddy bear eraser, and cute highlights and pencil crayons. 

🕯️ In his school bag he also carries his purse. 

🕯️ His purse consists of his wallet (it’s this cute polar bear), his makeup pouch, his medication (pills), and travel sized combs. 

🕯️ Kanato’s makeup pouch has all of his normal makeup products but condensed to travel size. He loves his perfumes, so it’s always going to be there since he runs out of them quite easily. 

🕯️ As always, the strawberry chapstick is there for himself, his brothers, and anyone else he sees that desperately needs it. Like no joke, he’s a chapstick warrior. He’s like Santa, but for chapstick. No one knows how he has the space for it, but it’s like a never-ending supply. 

🕯️ Kanato also keeps his nail polish in his bag, in a small side component.  

🕯️ Once he started to paint his nails in psychology, and the teacher directed the topic onto the psychological effects of red nail polish. It was interesting and he found himself amused that he could cause such a commotion based on one small thing. 

I hope you stars like some of my personal HC's for Kanato. This took me two days, since I really had to think deeper about how I perceive his character.

Credits to the artist of the Kanato fanart!!

Lmk if you guys would be interested in any other HC's!!

[rinsuniverse]

hi can i request wonu comforting reader? smth like they’re insecure or feeling like they’re not enough or they’re not lovable? i love your work btw i read every post like 2-3 times they make my day

reassurance with wonwoo! ✧˖°.

this is such a sweet request and very realistic!

the problem started way before this scenario, but it became incredibly evident to wonwoo on his day off

he's playing some games on his pc

and usually, you'd watch attentively and spare him some smiles every once in awhile

or you'd be on your laptop/tablet doing your own thing, and whenever you'd get bored, you'd get up and nudge him for attention

but today, every time he looked over to you, your eyes seemed to droop, and you seemed lost in thought (and kind of out of it)

as he's in the lobby of another online game, he turns to look at you as you lay on his bed staring blankly at the ceiling

"you okay, beb? you have been more quiet than usual," he says, pulling his headphones down to rest against his neck

"oh, i'm good," you say, sighing. "just thinking."

"wanna talk about it?"

"it's nothing important," you say, closing your eyes. "just not feeling great."

"should we take a break together and get some food and water?"

"it's not that i'm not feeling physically well. i just don't feel great about myself."

wonwoo turns back to his monitor, noticing that the game started

he adjusts his headphones so one ear is out of the set, his mic off

"why are you feeling that way?" he asks gently. "come here. sit in my lap."

you hesitantly drag yourself over to him, and he continues to play while sitting you sideways in his lap

you rest the side of your head on his shoulder, burying your forehead into his neck

"i know it makes me sound selfish and annoying, but i really don't feel like i'm worth anything," you say quietly.

he hums, showing that he's listening

"just look at you... you're so talented and wonderful and genuine and beautiful looking. and here i am... i'm not... ugly. but i'm not as attractive as you by any means. and i'm not as cool, warm-hearted, and interesting as you. standing next to you and knowing that i'm freaking dating you makes me feel like... 'how the hell did i even deserve this?' and 'why does he like ME?' and 'just imagine how disappointed people will be when they find out.'"

"find out what?"

"that we're dating."

"do you just not want people to find out? is it too embarrassing for you?"

"god, that's not... let's just not talk about this..."

"no, give me a moment, princess," he says, quickly finishing the game

he logs off and then turns the chair to face away from the pc

"tell me exactly what you don't like about yourself," he says, putting a hand on your cheek

"what?"

"like what makes you feel the most insecure?"

"i don't feel... lovable."

"lovable? let me search this up," he says as he turns back to his pc, searching up the definition. "inspiring or deserving love or affection."

"exactly. i don't deserve this... especially you."

"hmm... do you know that i feel like that sometimes?"

"what? you? why?"

"see? you're so shocked. that's exactly how i feel about you saying you're unlovable. because 'what? you? why?'"

"but you're a whole idol, wonu."

"and you're my favorite person. you're practically my idol," he says.

"it's not the same-"

"let's get up and go to the bathroom," he says, gently pushing you to your feet

"wonu, what the-"

he drags you to his bathroom and he hands you a makeup wipe

"wipe off my makeup," he says, taking off his glasses

"what's the purpose of this, babe?"

"come onnn"

you wipe off his makeup and he turns to look in the mirror

"i'm insecure about my acne and my moles," he says, pointing at places on his face

"but you're so handsome, even without makeup."

and he turns to you and gives you soft kisses on your forehead, your nose, both of your cheeks, your chin, and then your lips

"and you're so beautiful, babe. you're so deserving of my love because i can't think of anyone more deserving of my love than you. all of the love i have is for you, no matter what you feel or think."

he places his hand on the back of your neck and pulls you in to a long, loving kiss

"wonu..."

"do you understand?"

"mhm, thank you."

he places his glasses on you, making you laugh

"you're so blind, baby."

"with those glasses, i'm able to see the most beautiful person in the world in perfect vision."

"oh, really?"

"i bet you know them."

"you're so weird."

"let's talk some more, okay? tell me how you've been, tell me everything that's made you happy recently, tell me everything that pissed you off..."

"don't you want to go back to your game?"

"i still need to give my lover all the love they deserve."

"really?"

"don't make me think about what i said. i'll cringe and go back to gaming."

"okay, okay. but you mean everything you said?"

"i do."

thank you so much for requesting, anon! i hope you aren't feeling unlovable or insecure... if you are, i totally get that. just know that you ARE deserving of love and all wonderful things, i don't doubt that in any sense. if you need someone to talk to, my inbox is always open 🫶 feel free to request many more prompts! i hope this makes you feel better when you're feeling down. have a great day!

(p.s. requests are still open! i specialize in woozi stuff, but i don't mind writing about other svt members! so request whatever and as much as you want! ς(>‿<.))

[tommiruewrites]

hi my love! i was wondering if you could write a shy fem reader dating eddie munson and they go to a party or something and she sees him talking to chrissy (or another girl) and gets jealous? if not don't stress it. i love your writing by the way <3

MINE - E.M.

word count: 2.2k

requested: yes | no

requests: open | closed

request rules here

warnings: fem reader, one implication of reader being short (at least shorter than eddie), small segment where reader has anxiety, jealousy ofc, kissing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs (very brief, no intake), chrissy is not the villain

a/n: jealousy fics are my weak spot omg i had sm fun writing this. it took me a rly long time to get in a flow because i loved the req so much that i wanted to be perfect and i was overcomplicating it for myself so I apologize on the setback for reqs. i do first come first serve, so now that i'm finally happy with this one i can move on to all the other wonderful reqs! i hope you like the way it turned out <3333

remember to like, comment, and reblog to support my writing <3

· • —– ٠ ☆ ٠ —– • · • —– ٠ ☆ ٠ —– • · • —– ٠ ☆ ٠ —– • ·

You're zoned out, feeling the thumping music throughout your whole body as it shakes the countertop you're sitting on and pulses through you. It tickles a little under your fingertips. One too many drinks in and teetering dangerously on the line of being a little bit more than tipsy, you swing your legs back and forth as you stare blankly at the fridge in front of you, wondering why Steve still has baby alphabet magnets stuck on it. You add it to your memory bank of 'things to make fun of him for later.'

"Helloooo. Is anyone home?"

You see a hand wave in front of your face, blinking back to reality and turning to face your best friend. Robin Buckley. "Lost you for a second there. You okay?" She looks ridiculous, sitting crisscross applesauce with a beer in one hand and a half-eaten block of cheese in the other. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just starting to get a little tired." You put your drink down, reaching your arms up to stretch. Pulling back to rub at your eyes, you quickly jolt your hand away, remembering you have makeup on. Little do you know that its already a kinda smudged anyway. "Have you seen Eddie?"

The clock read 11:43. You haven't seen him in almost an hour now. You weren't a huge fan of parties, so you didn't go to many, but when you did, you usually you stuck by Eddie's side the whole night. That way you didn't have to socialize with people you didn't already know and risk embarrassing yourself. Last you saw he was headed off with some buff guy to make a deal, and you had expected him to be back by now. 

"Nope, not since the last time he was here." Robin replies, leaning back against the marble to look at whatever was on the ceiling that she found so interesting. 

Looking around, you notice that Steve's been gone for a while too. They must have wandered off together. "Okay, thanks Rob's." You push off the counter, heading off into the sea of people as Robin calls out a lazy, "Any time!"

There's barely enough room to squeeze your way through the crowd, almost getting knocked over too many times for your liking. You know for a fact that there's no way in hell Eddie's in this crowd dancing, especially not without you, so you don't even bother to look. As you near the door to Steve's backyard, you wonder if he even knows half of these people that are frolicking around in his house.

The chilly autumn air hits your face the moment you open the sliding glass door. You step out onto the concrete steps, squinting through the darkness to see any sign of Eddie. Nothing. Odd, on the rare occasion you attend parties, you can usually find him outside making a deal or smoking or something. As you stand in the cold you can feel your last drink starting to hit you a little harder, mind starting to get a little fuzzy.

You head back into the unpleasant warmth of the crowded living room, shoving your way past a couple that definitely does not shy away from PDA. You jog up the stairs, two steps at a time as you look at the faded carpet beneath your sneakers. You check every room in the hall, but most are empty, and the ones that aren't are thankfully not occupied by your boyfriend. At this point your just extremely confused, tired, and missing your boyfriend's company. You stumble back downstairs, just as Steve passes you, being dragged into the mass of dancing people by Robin.

You grab his arm, causing him to slingshot back in your direction, "Hey, Steve!"

"Yeah, what's up?" You can't smell a single drop of alcohol on his breathe, meanwhile Robin has probably bathed in it by now.

"Have you seen Eddie? I've been looking for him everywhere."

"Uhh, have you checked out back?" Robin was now dancing with Steve's outstretched arm. 

"Yeah, he's not there. I checked upstairs too."

Steve looks around a little, trying to pinpoint his friend through the swarm, "Sorry, I haven't seen him." Robin loses interest in dancing and begins pulling him away again, "Let me know if you can't find him, alright?" He shouts, quickly getting swallowed by the crowd.

"Yeah, okay."

Now you were starting to get anxious. What if something bad happened to him? What if Vecna was back? You frantically pushed your way through the room, looking around as every possible awful scenario imaginable passed through your brain. Unfortunately, in your hazy state you couldn't logically decipher what was or wasn't reality. You finally make it through the cluster of partygoers, catching a glimpse of curly dark hair across the room. Your heart swells, relieved that he's safe.

You sigh in relief, quickly hurdling towards him, "Eddie! Thank goodness you're okay, I-" You hear a laugh and feel your feet come to an abrupt stop. It's a girl. It's a pretty girl, and she's laughing at something your boyfriend said. 

Taking in the scene unfolding in front of you, you stare at Eddie who's leaning against the wall near the front door, talking with the prettiest girl you've ever seen. You weren't usually the possessive type, but for some reason you felt a little on edge. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was simply the fact that he was gone for almost an hour and now you find him chatting it up with another girl. The worst part is, you know her, and she's wonderful. The nicest girl you've ever met and she's gorgeous, and popular, and kind, and outgoing, and everything you wish you were. You stand there, frozen, watching as he must have said something funny again because now she's laughing so hard she can barely breathe. Even her laugh is pretty. She tries to steady herself and catch her breath. She grabs his arm. She's holding his arm and laughing at his joke, and he's not pushing her away. You can't help the jealousy that bubbles up in your stomach, making you almost nauseous with envy.

All of a sudden, your feet are moving, pushing you off in the direction of your metalhead boyfriend. You walk up next to him, grabbing his arm a little more harshly than you intended, causing Eddie to jump before softening when he realizes it's you. "Oh hey, baby! Chrissy was just asking about you." 

You forcefully pull his arm away from her lingering hand, placing it around your shoulders, "Well, here I am!" You reply dryly, offering a tight-lipped smile in her direction. No matter how jealous you were, you could never hate her. She's an absolute angel. Still, this was the most polite response you could muster up at the moment.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Eddie's smile flicker to confusion for a moment. Sure, you were shy, but you were still usually very friendly. It especially confused him since he knows you think very highly of Chrissy.

"Have you been having fun?"

"Yeah." You mutter, barely audible.

An uncomfortable silence falls over the three of you as your eyes linger on Chrissy. She awkwardly smiles and sways on her feet. Quickly, Chrissy and her amazing social skills recover the situation, sparking up another vivid conversation with Eddie. Your eyes dart between them, enviously twisting and tugging at Eddie's black Metallica shirt. Soon enough they're laughing again, and then you hear what pushes you right over the edge. She calls him "Eds", in her wispy cute little giggle voice that makes you want to rip your hair right out of your skull. That's what you call him. That's your nickname for him. You've finally had enough, and you just can't handle it any longer or you think you might explode. You put your hand on Eddies chest, pulling at his shirt to get his attention as you lean your face up to look at him. "Hey, Eds?"

He places a hand on top of the one grabbing his shirt, laughing a little as he removes it before you rip a hole in it. "What's up?" 

You bite your cheek to keep yourself calm, jealous and also embarrassed of said jealousy, you squeeze his hand. Hard. He pulls you closer to his side and leans down to hear you better in the loud atmosphere. 

"I think I'm ready to go home now." You say just loud enough for Eddie and Chrissy to hear, envy bubbling out into the sharpness of your words as you say it through clenched teeth.

He takes a minute to process it. Process your tone... and then all of a sudden it clicks.

"Ah, okay." He whispers as he rubs your back, turning to face Chrissy. "We're gonna head out." 

She smiles at the both of you, almost disappointed, "Aw, alright. See you guys around!"

"Have fun!" He smiles, turning to walk through the front door, waving to a disheveled Steve and Robin as you cling to his side, practically pulling him out of the party. Once you both get in the car, he starts the engine and pulls out onto the road. The drive is mostly silent besides the sound of the tires against the rough concrete and the engine whirring. You chew on your lip and slouch into your seat, incredibly ashamed of your own emotions and the fact that you still can't shake them. Eddie rests his hand on your thigh, trying to sooth you. You look out of your window to avoid having to talk to him right now. You can tell that Eddie knows you're a little drunk. You secretly hope that's all he chalks your shifty mood up to. Alcohol. 

You pull up to a gravelly stop in front of your trailer. You live in the trailer directly next to Eddie's, but you spend so much time at his place that it almost felt like you lived there instead. You hop out of the car and immediately head for your trailer, "Goodnight, Eddie!" You rush out, practically bolting for your door.

"Ah ah ah, not so fast short stuff." He crowed from behind you, leaning his back against the hood of his car and crossing him arms almost mockingly. He wore a knowing smirk on his face, and you couldn't help but shrink into yourself as you slowly turned around. "What was that all about, hm?"

You shrugged your shoulders, legs slightly swaying beneath you, "What was what?"

"Aw come on, don't play dumb with me sweetheart." He pushes off the car, slowly walking towards you with a strangely proud smile. "Come on, say it."

"Say what?"

"Why you wanted to get me out of there oh so badly?"

You rock on the balls of your feet, toying with your sweater sleeve nervously, "I'm drunk."

He shakes his head disapprovingly, pretending to think as his curls framing his face wildly, "Mm, but you're sober enough to be having this conversation?"

Heat blossoms across your face, forcing you to look down to hide it. 

Eddie's demeanor softens slightly, taking a few steps closer and wrapping his arms around your waist. "Let me guess. Were you..." he starts, getting softer as he leans down to your ear, "a little jealous?"

You whine and hide your face in his shoulder, hitting his chest when he starts to laugh. "Eddie, cut it out! It's not my fault okay!" you start to ramble, "I had a lot to drink, and she's so perfect, and she thought you were funny, and she was touching you, and- and..."

Eddie tugs at your sweater as you trail off, softly urging you to finish, "and what, sweetheart?"

"She called you 'Eds'... Only I'm supposed to get to call you that." You mumble out as quietly as possible. Your face burns hot as you bury your head further into his neck. You feel absolutely mortified. 

"A little possessive, are we?" His smirk was evident in his tone.

Your fingers tighten at the hem of his t-shirt, pulling yourself impossibly closer to him before muttering something almost inaudible.

Eddie can't wipe the smile off of his face, suddenly deaf "Sorry, what was that?"

"I said... you're, mine."

A moment passes, making you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole... and then you feel Eddie's laughter rumble against his chest until he's leaving sweet little kisses on every inch of your face in between rambled sentences.

"You look so cute when you're jealous, you know that?"

He kisses up your neck, "All pouty and flustered over nothing."

Up your jawline, "Christ princess, I can't believe you think you're the lucky one here-"

Across your cheekbone, "Sure, Chrissy's nice, but she doesn't hold a candle to you, honey."

Then finally, he looks at you, holding your gaze while he speaks, "I've only got eyes for you, babe." His lips graze against yours, smiling into the kiss as he softly presses into you and pours every ounce of adoration into it. You finally feel your jealousy melting away, intertwining your fingers with his. He pulls back ever so slightly to mutter one final promise against your lips;

"I'm all yours."

[selenacosmic]

An idol and his makeup artist.

This isn’t a series, just a oneshot of an idea I just had.

If there is one advice I would give to any makeup artist…

Don’t work for idols.

I know, saying this may sound like they would be the worst to work with, but that isn’t the case. At least, not in my case… I have studied different styles of makeup for a long time, so to put my work on someone who will perform and be admired by thousands of people fills me with pride. And, in a way, makes me feel important. Then, what is the true problem with working for an idol as their makeup artist? Well…

“Cut! I believe this second shot was a lot better. Take a 5 minute break to fix the makeup.” I heard the director shout, which immediately pulled me out of my thoughts. The lights towards the set were turned off and so was the music.

Right at this moment, the most recently famous group of idols “serViceS” were filming their second music video. They had debuted not too long ago and yet they had built a large amount of fans in less than a week. Perhaps that had something to do with the theme their group had. Just like their name, this idol group had the intention to ‘serve’ their fans with compliments, sweet words and love songs. I joined the staff for this group at their debut, and I can’t say that I don’t feel lucky to be part of the makeup artists, but…

I don’t think my heart can handle being around these men, specially the one that I am in charge of.

“Ah, filming for two hours straight truly can be tiring. But knowing that I will have this angel taking care of me, even if for only five minutes, all my fadigue fades away.” I hear that melodic voice coming closer, I sigh to myself to calm down. When it comes to him, I need to be patient.

I quickly pulled my mask up in case anyone with a camera came close to film him while he is getting ready for the next shots, already holding a towel in my hands to wipe his sweat.

“I am not taking care of you, I am only making sure you look perfect for the video.” Despite me trying my best to be dismissive, this man really didn’t need me to do much for him to be perfect.

All the members of this group were perfect, but this one was different. The idol in question is called Shingen Takeda, a man that is known for having the mature charm of the group and the one who is the most flirty. When I first joined the makeup crew, I truly wondered if his personality was only an act for the public, which is very normal for idols. Actually, I expected that from all of them, considering that they all act very sweetly and affectionate on stage. What baffled me is that this isn’t an act.

I frowned as I patted his face with the towel, a bit frustrated that his makeup got messed up from the sweat, and… you know, this man is way taller than me. Five minutes really isn’t enough to redo everything and give the idol time to rest, it makes me wonder how he manages to have so much energy in him. Probably sensing my frustration, Shingen lowered his face down to help me reach him easier. “Better, Angel?” He asked with that infuriatingly handsome smile on his face.

“Yes, thanks…”

“I hate to make you work all over again on my makeup, but sweating while filming this is inevitable.” I knew it wasn’t his fault, and it’s not like I had to do much for his makeup. Rather, I felt more worried than anything.

“Don’t worry about it, i will try to finish this quickly.” After I was done cleaning his face, I started doing small retouches to his makeup, trying to ignore the awkward position we were in.

His face is too close..!

“Something wrong, angel?” He asked with a look of concern, he probably sensed me being nervous. I shook my head and lightly pushed him away, I was lucky that my mask was hiding my blushing cheeks. I looked away from him to calm my heart, it’s hard to be able to hold his gaze.

“Your makeup is done. It’s not like it took me too long.” He was perfect already, I barely had to do anything.

Shingen smiled again, I could sense his teasing gaze towards me. This man can notice anything it sometimes scares me, but I am lucky he doesn’t push his teasing too far.

“You work very hard to make me look my best, I can’t be more thankful to you than I am right now.” What is this man talking about now? When I looked up to look at his face, his previous teasing smile was now a gentle gaze. That… caught me off guard.

“What… I am just doing my job, nothing impressive about that.” Before I could move away, I felt his hand gently patting my head. This… would feel really awkward in any other occasion, but luckily no one was looking our way. Is he doing this because of how small I am when compared to him? “A-anyway, before you go back, here.” I shoved a cup I bought on my way to work, it was a caramel Frappuccino, his favorite.

He seemed taken aback by my gift, I couldn’t look him in the eyes due to my embarrassment. I just wanted to do something nice since he worked so hard on his career.

“Selena, I hope you continue being my makeup artist in the future.” He happily took the drink from me, drinking it with delight. I crossed my arms and huffed.

“Right, remember to do a good job if you want more of th-“ before I could finish my sentence, I felt him pulling down my mask to kiss my cheek. That certainly left me speechless.

“Then, I must do my best to receive more of my angel’s blessings.” With that, he walked away while drinking his sweet beverage. Meanwhile I was left there with cheeks more red than strawberries.

Yeah… don’t work with idols, specially idols like Shingen. Your heart might not be able to handle it.

[mercy-burning]

She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder. 

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames. 

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor.  From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this? 

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin. 

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him  with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

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[watchmegetobsessed]

THE DEAL

a/n: i literally wrote it in less than a day because i was inspired by a movie... of god, i have issues, but ANYWAYS! this one is a classic friends with benefits to lovers story with so much angst and a grandiose love confession at the end so buckle up, you are in for a treat!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEEASE give feedback if you enjoyed it!!

pairing: Harry X Reader

warnings: some, drinking, sexual content, a hell lot of it, angst and messy emotions, it’s a lot!!

word count: 11.8k

masterlist

If your life was some romantic comedy his would be the moment where the camera would zoom on you, your eyes blankly glued to the ceiling, makeup from last night smudged under them as a muscular, inked arm gets thrown across your chest, a snoozing man beside you as you have the internal little monologue.

“You’re wondering how I got into this situation, right? Completely naked with one of my best friends after a night spent with heavy drinking and ending up fucking in his apartment until we both fell asleep.”

Yeah, this is probably what the voiceover would say as the camera would slowly get farther from you, Harry’s sleeping figure coming into the frame while you’re still lying like a damn statue. This was not supposed to happen. Not that it was bad, because oh God! Harry really is as good as his ex-girlfriends gushed to you when you met them on night outs. You could never blame the women for falling for him, he has the charm, the personality, the humor and definitely the looks. If you weren’t you, you’d be one of those girls who would do anything to get his attention just for a split second. But you’re not.

Growing up with a single mother that was repeatedly fucked over by several men, you were taught to be the kind of independent woman who needs no man. Who only uses them for whatever reason and throws them away before they could even realize what’s happening. Feelings could never be involved in the equations, those are just not for you.

For a while you thought you weren’t even capable of feeling anything at all. But the way you cried when your hamster you got for your sixteenth birthday died changed your mind and you realized that you are just saving yourself the time of allowing people to make you develop feelings for them and then give them the chance to break your heart. You’ve seen that happen to your mother enough times to know that you don’t want to go through that. It’s not worth it and why would you risk it all when you could easily get what you need and move on to the next one?

Your friends always joked how you’re gonna be the single aunt to their children later who would take them to clubs and honestly? You’re just fine with that. Because you always thought that while your married friends will be busy with keeping their marriage together with whatever pathetic man they chose to marry, you’ll be living your best life without a worry on the world. That sounds pretty good for you.

There’s no need to make it prettier than what it is, you’ve had a lot of hookups the past years but you always tried to keep yourself in check, have some kind of rules to follow so you don’t hurt yourself or anyone else in the process. One of those were that under no circumstances would you ever sleep with a friend. No matter how badly you want to, no matter if they are begging, it can never happen.

But you broke that rule.

Turning your head to the side you look at Harry’s sleeping face squished into the pillow and you almost wince, because you know that when he wakes up, this gonna hurt like a bitch. He’s gonna freak out, or what’s worse, he’ll want to take it further, take you out on a date… be in a relationship with you! And you’ll have to break his heart because none of those will ever happen.

You and Harry went to high school together and he is one of the very few people you stayed in touch after graduation. Though you grew a little apart when you went to different universities, later on you both somehow ended up in New York and while you’re working as a graphic designer at a magazine, Harry is making good money from writing music for other artists. He’s been one of your closest friends these past years and while you’ve always found him attractive, you should have never let this happen, because it will mess everything up and you didn’t want to lose such a good friend.

Harry stirs in his sleep next to you, his hand squeezing your side before his eyes blink open, green irises finding your wide eyes. He stops for a moment, looking around, taking in his surroundings before his eyes fall closed again.

“Wow, must have been one wild night?” he mumbles into the pillow before a raspy chuckle falls from his lips.

Last night, the two of you and a couple of your mutual friends celebrated that Harry has gotten his biggest deal so far, having to write an entire album for an up-and-coming artist, so you all got pretty wasted, especially you and him. It’s a little blurry how the two of you ended up like this, but you do remember wildly making out hidden somewhere behind the bar before he asked if you wanted to come to his place. You stupid little thing, should have said no…

Groaning, Harry rolls to his back, his arm falling from you as he lies sprawled out next to you.

“The tequila shots. Shouldn’t have had them,” you rasp out, a smirk tugging on his lips at your words. “So, um… we both can agree this was a one time thing, right?”

Harry peeks at you, pushing himself up a bit so his head rests against the headboard. The sheets slide down a bit lower on his body, revealing his toned chest and his several tattoos. Memories of you kissing them eagerly last night flash into your mind and you can only hope you’re not blushing like a school girl.

“What if I don’t agree?” Harry cocks an eyebrow and you almost groan. You knew this was going to happen!

“Harry, I’m not going out with you. You know me, I don’t do that. It’s nice that you think that it could work between us, but I don’t do relationships and I’m not changing my rules, not even for you.”

Harry starts laughing, as if you just said the best joke of the century, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. You give him a puzzled look as you sit up, holding the sheets to your chest.

“Who talked about dating, Y/N?” he then asks. “You said last night was a one time thing. We fucked last night. What if that wasn’t the only time we did that?”

You start to put the pieces together, though you’d definitely be sharper if you already had your first coffee of the day.

“Are you trying to start a… friends with benefits thing with me?”

“I mean, you could call it whatever you want. I personally really enjoyed last night and judging from the way you were screaming my name, you did too.” Now you’re for sure blushing. “Why not do it again?”

“This is not a movie, H. I don’t think it’s manageable without ruining our friendship.”

“Have you ever tried something like this?” You shake your head no. “Then how could you know?”

“Have you tried it?”

“Never,” he chuckles. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. We are both cool, smart people. I think we can give it a try and whenever someone is feeling like they had enough, we’re just gonna stop.”

“What if you catch feelings?” you ask, raising eyebrows at him.

“Oh, but what if you fall for me?” he throws the question back with a cocky smirk and you smack his naked chest.

“You know I never do that!”

“I don’t think you can just decide that, but alright,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in defense. “I promise you I won’t catch feelings for you, Y/N. I swear on my…”

“Your mom’s and sister’s life!” you point at him. It’s clear that he thinks it’s silly, but you just keep staring at him until he gives in.

“I swear on my mum’s and my sister’s life that I will not catch feelings for you, Y/N.”

“Alright. And we can end it anytime?”

“Whenever you’ve had enough of me,” he smirks back, so pleased with himself that it’s clear he doesn’t think that could ever happen.

“If you keep that cocky look on your face it’s gonna be a very short deal, Styles,” you warn him, but he just laughs before he quickly pulls you back down to bed, getting on top of you, his hips sinking between your legs and you gasp when you feel that he is already semi-hard.

“Why don’t we get a head start on it then?” he offers, his lips crashing against yours before they travel down your body and soon enough he gives you something that’s a thousand times better than a coffee in the morning.

At first you’re clearly hesitant about it. Not sure if it was a good idea or you just ruined everything between you and Harry, but soon enough you realize that it wasn’t as bad of a decision as you thought it to be.

Harry is the one to call you for the first time, two days after the night you drunkenly hooked up. You’re just leaving the office when he hits you up, asking if you have plans for the night or you’re free to go over to his place. An hour later you find yourself pressed up against the wall of his apartment’s hallway, both of you eager to get each other out of your clothes. Now that it all happens without either of you being drunk, you actually have the chance to think about how good it is with him. He is just the perfect mixture of dominant and soft, knows when to be the boss and when he has to slow down a bit.

He makes you cum three times. Three mind-blowing times, and you also give him two orgasms. You try to make it equal and make it three, but he respectfully says no.

“If you touched my dick again I think I would start crying,” he chuckles jokingly, so you don’t even think about pushing it.

Instead, the two of you order Chinese, have dinner together, talking like you always used to before the deal and then you go home. There’s no awkwardness, no weird situations, not even when you leave. Harry leans closer and for a moment you think he is gonna be corny and kiss you goodbye, but then you feel him smack your ass before pushing you out the door, just like he always did before, joking about how he is gonna charge you rent if you stay any longer.

Nothing has changed, only that you now spend a good chunk of your time together naked, moaning each other’s name before you get back to your usual.

So after that you don’t shy away from reaching out to Harry as well. It becomes a regular thing, the two of you meeting up about two of three times a week. You fuck, hang out a bit and go your separate ways. Slowly, you start to forget about times when you stayed dressed up for more than ten minutes after meeting Harry.

You keep switching between your and his place, but sometimes meet somewhere in the middle. You’ve had sex in a restaurant bathroom, in his car in a parking garage and even in his cousin’s place in Brooklyn. That was a bit odd but still quite pleasing.

Tonight is going to be the first time you’re gonna be out with all your friends and Harry since the deal was made. No one knows about it and you intend to keep it that way.

Once you’re done at work you head home, texting Leticia, another friend from high school to meet you at your place to get ready together. She was Harry’s friend at first, what’s better, she openly hated you at first for some reason.

“You just had a punchable face at fifteen, you can’t blame me,” she used to tell you. It was actually Harry who made the two of you friends and you’ve been close ever since.

You get to your apartment almost at the same time. Leticia starts rambling about her asshole of a boss at the law firm where she works at as you open a bottle of wine to start the evening while you roam through your wardrobe for an outfit.

“Is Leo coming? I owe him a few bucks from last time,” Leticia wonders, digging into your dresser for a pair of tights she can borrow to pair with her leather skirt.

“I think he is, but he is going to be late. He is coming from Staten Island from his dad’s,” you muse, checking yourself out in the red dress you just tried on, not quite pleased with the look, so you quickly work down the zipper and look for something else.

“Um, whose is this?”

Turning around you see that Leticia is holding up a shirt Harry left at yours a few days ago. She is clearly confused about the men’s clothing between your stuff, because you are not one to steal them from the men you sleep with since you don’t really want anything from them to remind you of them.

“Oh, um, that’s… That’s Harry’s. He left it here a few days ago,” you shrug, not making a big deal out of it, but Leticia is nosier than that.

“And why is Harry leaving his clothes around your place?”

“Is that a crime?” you snort, trying to play it cool.

“No, but in what kind of situation did this shirt come off of Harry and end up in your dresser?”

You can’t think of a good answer that would stop her from interrogating you, and the way you’ve just gotten silent is telling her more than words could. She drops the shirt, eyes widening at you and it’s clear that she put two and two together.

“Oh my God! You’re sleeping with Harry!”

“No! I’m… I just—We…”

“You two are totally fucking! What the fuck!” she gasps in complete shock as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Let me explain it, alright? W-We hooked up on the night when we went out to celebrate his big album deal.”

“When I couldn’t go, right?”

“Yeah. So we were both very drunk and it just happened. And I really thought it would ruin everything but we somehow ended up making a deal.”

“Jesus, you guys are acting out the Friends With Benefits movie? Who are you, Mila fucking Kunis?”

“It’s not like that!” you defend yourself quickly, but then you realize that it’s just like that so far. “Well, it kind of is, but the ending won’t be like that.”

“Do you really think you can just do it with absolutely no strings?” Leticia sighs, her hands coming to her hips as she stares back at you.

“It’s been going great, so I really think it’s doable. And if any of us decides they had enough, we’ll just call it quits.”

“Yeah, because it’s that easy,” she rolls her eyes. “One of you will catch feelings and someone is gonna end up crying, Y/N.”

“No, that’s not gonna happen,” you shake your head stubbornly. “He promised it won’t happen.”

“Feelings don’t give a shit about promises! I hope you really know what you’re doing, because I don’t want to have to choose between the two of you,” she grumbles before throwing Harry’s shirt back into the drawer, grabbing the tights she’s been looking for.

Leticia doesn’t hold a grudge for the news she just found out, but she surely has gotten you thinking. Is it really gonna end bad? Why can’t there be a scenario where it goes perfectly fine and no one gets hurt? Harry promised it’s gonna be alright and he has been proven right so far, so why are you having second guesses now?

Arriving at the bar the majority of your friend group is already there, including Harry. You sit across him in the small booth, just exchanging a quick smile before the first round arrives and the evening starts. You allow yourself to take a better look at him while he listens to Mitch’s story and you can’t say that you don’t find him hot. He is wearing a vintage, floral printed shirt, the first few buttons left undone, so you have a nice view of his chest and his necklace you’ve felt under your lips so many times before when you were kissing down his body. He keeps twisting and playing with his several rings and it makes you stare at his hands for a tad bit longer than you intended to. God, he looks so damn good, you really just want to fuck him here and now.

You keep changing who goes up to the bar to order and the third round is yours, so sliding out of the booth you go to the bar and wait for your turn. A young, handsome guy is making the drinks and you clearly catch his eyes.

“And what can I get for you, beautiful?” he smirks at you when it’s finally your turn.

“Two vodka sodas, a martini and three vodka cranberries,” you smile back at him with a hint of flirting in your tone.

It’s kind of second nature to you, a few charming smiles and winks have gotten a lot of free things for you in your life and you never miss a chance to use your advances.

“All that for one pretty girl?” he teases you.

“I would be all over the floor if I drank all of it,” you chuckle, pulling your card out of your wallet, tapping it on the terminal as he finishes up the drinks, kindly putting them on a tray so you can easily bring them over to the booth.

“Don’t worry, I would surely pick you up then,” he winks at you, placing the last drink to the tray before you thank him and head back.

As you take your previous seat you notice that Harry is watching you intently.

“What?” you mouth him over the conversation at the table.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, turning his gaze away, grabbing his drink and focusing back on everyone else.

You go up to the bar two more times, once to ask for some chips and once for some napkins after a drink has gotten spilt onto the table. Every time you exchange a few words with the bartender and you have to admit, he has a great sense of humor paired with his looks.

Sometime later in the evening you decide to switch to water, so you go up to the bar a fourth time, the bartender coming to you right away at this point. As you wait for him to grab you your drink you feel a hand on your lower back. Turning to the side you see Harry standing next to you.

“Hey, want to come to my place after this?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear. His hot breath hits your exposed skin on your neck and a shudder runs down your spine, especially with his hand still on the small of your back.

“You want a rerun of your first time?” you smirk back at him, referring to the drinks you both have had, though it’s definitely not as wild as that night was.

“No, but this dress is making it hard not to want to rip it off,” he bluntly tells you as you glance down at yourself. At last you decided to wear a black bodycon dress that surely shows every dip and curve of your body and apparently Harry has been enjoying the show.

The bartender arrives with your water, his eyes falling on Harry and you see that he is a little taken aback by his presence.

“Hey man, can you get me another one as well? I’ll pay for both,” Harry nods at him and there’s something foreign in his tone that you can’t really put your finger on. The bartender just nods back and goes to grab another water.

“What if I wasn’t in the mood?” you tease him, continuing the discussion where you left it a moment ago.

“Oh, please!” he chuckles smugly. “I saw you eyeing me from across the table, Y/N. I know you are definitely in the mood.”

He is right. So damn right. You’ve been crossing your legs under the table for a while now, feeling your arousal growing every time you saw him run his tongue over his lips or whenever his finger played with the lip of his glass, imagining him doing the same with your body.

Biting into your bottom lip you need to take a deep breath, but when Harry sees your teeth digging into your lip, he loses his patience.

“Or we can just do it now,” he growls lowly, grabbing your hand before he starts pulling you towards the restrooms. You don’t even have the chance to protest, not that you want to.

He is quick to pull you into an empty restroom, locking the door behind the two of you before his lips attack yours, pushing you against the door with vigor and hunger. His hands are already bunching your dress up around your waist and you moan his name when your hips meet and you feel his hard length through his jeans.

“We have to be quick, so no one notices we disappeared,” he pants as he helps you up to the counter, your back hitting the cold mirror behind you.

“Then shut up and just fuck me,” you challenge him and it makes him absolutely feral.

You don’t have time to enjoy it the way you usually do in bed, but the excitement of the situation alone has gotten you so wet that you’re already dripping when he pushes your panties to the side with one hand while his other works on his own pants.

“Fuck, already so wet for me, huh?” he breathes out, his lips brushing against yours before they kiss you fully.

“Just like how you’re rock hard for me,” you grin against his lips, a hand wandering down to his cock as you pull it out of his boxers, stroking it a few times before he pulls a condom out of his back pocket and wraps himself up. “Were you counting on this quickie, Styles?” you ask when you realize that he just had a condom ready on him.

“I knew for sure I’m gonna fuck you tonight, but wasn’t sure how long I’m gonna last,” he grins, capturing your lips again before he pushes himself inside you with no warning, making you both gasp.

“Fuck! Harry!” you moan as he starts moving rapidly, definitely not taking his time like he usually does. He is pounding into you without mercy, panting against your lips as his ring clad fingers are digging into the flesh of your thighs.

“You like that? Like it when I fuck you somewhere public?” he growls, making your legs curl around his hips.

Your hands move up his chest and neck, fingers tangling into his curls and you give them a tug, earning an animalistic grunt from him as he starts going even harder and faster. You’re rapidly getting closer to your orgasm.

“You close?” he pants and you nod. “Come on, cum all over my cock, Y/N.”

A few more thrusts and your walls tighten around his dick, squeezing him as you gasp, riding your high, your head falling backwards, meeting with the mirror behind you. Harry follows you a few pushes later, moaning your name repeatedly before his movements come to a halt and you both take a moment to catch your breath.

When he pulls out you both just quietly clean yourselves up, fixing your clothes and hair so you don’t entirely scream sex with your appearances.

“My offer to come to mine after still stands,” he smirks, running a hand through his hair before you head out.

“Tempting, but I have some work to do in the morning, so no,” you turn him down, stepping out to the dark hallway that leads back to the bar. Harry grabs your hand and pulls you back, his lips smashing against yours, surprising you with his move. He kisses you deeply, sucking on your bottom lip hard before he pulls back.

“What was that for?” you ask out of breath.

“If you’re not coming over, I needed something to have a good night,” he shrugs with a smug smirk before you return to the bar.

You catch the bartender’s look as you finally get your waters and Harry pays for them. You catch the two men eyeing each other for a moment before you and Harry return to the table and you forget about the whole thing.

A Sunday afternoon you’re lounging at Harry’s. You jumped at each other’s bones when you arrived, but now you’re chilling on his couch, watching a series you both wanted to start so you decided to give it a go together. Your leg is lying across Harry’s lap, his hands absentmindedly kneading your thighs. It feels nice, like a massage, especially after how sore he made you earlier, stretching you out more than he usually does with a new pose you tried out.

Your phone chimes next to you and tearing your gaze away from the TV you check to see who just sent you a text. It was one of your coworkers, Anthony, he sent you a raging text about how he still has no idea what to wear to the company party that’s gonna be next Saturday and you realize that you totally forgot about it.

“Shit!” you curse under your breath.

“What?” Harry asks, pausing the show.

“I have this stupid work party next weekend and I totally forgot about it,” you growl, checking your calendar quickly if you can squeeze in a quick shopping spree before Saturday or you’ll have to find something in your closet.

“Aren’t those things nice with a lot of free food and drinks?” Harry wonders.

“Yeah, but I don’t like it, because all my colleagues bring their partners and I’m usually the only single one and they keep trying to set me up with someone,” you roll your eyes even at the thought of having to suffer through another one of those awkward conversations about your love life. Like it’s any of their concern!

“I can go with you if that helps,” he offers and you give him a look over your phone. “What? I’m sure if you brought someone they wouldn’t bug you.”

“But we are not together,” you remind him narrowing your eyes at him.

“They don’t have to know that. It’s a win-win, Y/N. Your colleagues would stop nagging you and I can eat and drink for free,” he smirks, clearly pleased with his little plan.

“I mean… you’re not wrong,” you sigh.

“See? Then it’s settled,” he pats your legs, smirking widely at you, but you’re still not entirely convinced. “Come on, Y/N. It’s gonna be fun!”

“This is so cliché, Harry!” you groan, your head falling back against the arm of the couch. “Pretending to be a couple? Straight out of a damn movie.”

Harry lifts your legs up so he can get out from under them, placing them back to the cushion before he climbs over to you, half of his body pressing onto yours as he squints his eyes at you.

“We can fuck in the bathroom, if you want,” he bluntly offers and you just start laughing at his dirty mind and technique of convincing you. “What? There’s literally no better offer out there. Free food, free drinks and free sex. Really good sex, if I may add,” he points out and you smack his chest lightly.

“Didn’t know you were thinking about charging me for the sex,” you joke.

“Might as well do, baby. Especially if it’s the best you can get,” he smugly huffs and you’d retort something funny, but you get caught up on the name.

“Baby? Since when are you calling me baby?”

“Since we are gonna be a couple next week. Gotta rehearse, baby,” he repeats the nickname and a foreign feeling bubbles in the pit of your stomach. Why is this one little word making you feel things you haven’t before? “And you know what else we can rehearse?” he continues, oblivious to your inner dialogue.

You don’t get to answer upon feeling his hand slide between your legs, fingers gently pressing onto your clothed clit and though you can’t stop a moan from slipping through your lips, you still grab his wrist and pull him away.

“My legs are too sore, I wouldn’t enjoy another round of you pounding into me,” you tell him and you can see the proud glimmer in his eyes that he was the one who got you into this state, though he luckily doesn’t comment on it.

“It doesn’t have to be pounding, then,” he smirks and leaning down he kisses you, taking his time as his hand frees itself from your grip and slides under your shorts and panties, fingers meeting your already throbbing bud.

He repositions himself so one of his thighs are between your legs, his lips never leaving yours as his fingers start drawing circles on your clit, sending pleasure down your body in waves.

“Fuck,” you breathe out against his lips when two of his fingers tease your entrance before pushing all the way inside, curling them between your clenching, wet walls.

“No, we are not fucking right now,” he smirks, never missing a chance to joke around and you want to retort to his comment, but words get caught in your throat when his thumb starts playing with your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you in a steady rhythm.

“So, are we on for Saturday? It’s gonna be fun, hm?”

The little shit is using his fingers to convince you and he has the audacity to ask you questions when you are about to see stars. Sometimes you really do hate how big of a smug fucker Harry is, but it’s hard to feel hatred for him when he is about to make you cum again.

“I-I don’t… Harry!” you gasp when he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, right when you were so close. “I was about to fucking cum!” you growl, raging eyes meeting his green irises.

“I know,” he chuckles. “Say that you’re in and I’ll make you cum.”

“You motherfu—“

You don’t get to finish, his lips smashing against yours as his fingers return, moving faster than before, quickly pushing you towards the edge again.

“Say it. Say it, Y/N,” he mumbles against your lips as your chest is heaving and you start buckling your hips to meet his movements.

“Fuck… Okay! I’m in, just please make me cum!” you whine, hands gripping his shoulders like your life depends on it.

“Good girl,” he smirks and finishes you off without any more teasing.

You cry out his name, fingers digging into his muscles as you push your thighs together, trapping his hand between them while he keeps fingering you oh so perfectly. He makes sure you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he pulls his fingers out and without batting an eye, he just licks them and fixes your panties and shorts before returning to his previous position with your legs across his lap, starting the show like nothing really happened.

Saturday morning you’re able to quickly get your nails done and Leticia comes with you, the two of you having brunch together afterwards. You go to a new place near the nail salon and as the waiter arrives with your orders, you notice that he slides a napkin onto the table with a small smile.

Grabbing it you see a phone number scribbled onto it. Normally, you send back a smile and tug the napkin into your purse, but this time you just leave it on the table and decide to ignore it.

“What the hell is up with you?” Leticia asks and glancing up at her you see her gesturing towards the napkin. “You don’t seem too thrilled about the approach which is very unlike you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m just… not interested,” you shrug, reaching for your fork.

“Not interested? The dude looks like the lovechild of Chris Hemsworth and Johnny Depp. He is exactly your type, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m just not seeking another hookup right now, that’s it.”

“Oh my God!” Leticia gasps and you give her a puzzled look.

“What?”

“You don’t want other men because of Harry!”

“What? That’s crazy,” you laugh, because she has clearly left her mind at the salon for even thinking that.

“Have you hooked up with anyone else than Harry since you’ve made your little deal?”

“I, uhh… Flirted with the bartender when we were out together.”

“Flirting doesn’t count, not even in relationships.”

“I don’t think many would agree with that, Tish,” you huff.

“Okay, but did you have any interest in fucking someone else?”

“I don’t get it why you are making a big deal out of it. Why would I seek anyone else if I’m perfectly pleased by him?”

“Honey, that’s like… how relationships work.”

“That’s not true,” you shake your head, though what would you know about relationships? Your first and only one was when you were seventeen and it lasted twenty-one pathetic days.

“Are you fucking with anyone else?” She asks, eyebrows raised at you as you shake your head no. “Are you fucking him?”

“Obviously,” you scoff.

“Do you spend time together that doesn’t include sex?”

You are almost quick to say no, but then you realize that would be a big ass lie. Every time he comes over to your place or you’re at his, it’s never just the sex. That’s always primary, but not everything you do. All the dinners, the movies and shows you’ve watched together, when you sit on your tiny balcony with a bottle of wine, talking and laughing like you always did before the deal, something always happens after the sex.

Your silence once again answers Leticia’s question. Reaching over the table she takes your hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Girl, you are totally dating Harry.”

Leticia once again manages to put a flea in your ear about this whole Harry thing. You wish she didn’t say a thing, because now you can’t think of anything else than the fact that you really are doing all the things with Harry that people who are dating do.

You get so riled up that you almost cancel on the evening, but you’d hate to have to sit through the evening with your colleagues alone when you said you’d be bringing someone. That would make their usual nagging a hundred times worse. So instead, you suck it up and decide to ignore the issue just for the time being and you get ready.

You were able to find a new dress beforehand, the yellow dress is truly a sight to the sore eyes with the corset-like top and very subtle lace details here and there. It’s a little daring, but everyone goes all out for these parties usually and you definitely don’t want to be underdressed.

Harry texts you that he is in front of the building a little before seven, holding up the taxi he came with so you quickly grab everything you need and head out.

You’re the first one to see him through the glass entrance doors of your building, he is standing next to the car in a simple black suit and a soft yellow shirt underneath. It was actually your idea to match your outfits and he surely understood the assignment, especially seeing his also yellow nails.

Part of you is still hung up on what Leticia told you, but a bigger one is so excited to see him and also very into his look for the evening, that you push your doubts to the back of your mind and step out of the building with a shy smile on your lips as his eyes fall on you and you see his lips part.

“Wow! This dress is… wow!” he breathes out, his eyes raking your frame up and down shamelessly as you walk closer.

“Do you know any other words than wow?” you tease him, biting into your bottom lip.

“Yeah. How about: I would love to bend you over this taxi and take you here and now in this dress?”

Your face heats up immediately, slapping his arm, but then you leave your hand on his bicep and give it a squeeze as your answer: you’d definitely love that if it wasn’t kind of illegal to have sex out on a busy street.

The ignorance in you is so high that you don’t even mind how Harry keeps a hand on your thigh in the car, what’s more, you’re quite liking the warmth of his touch on you. His fingers are gently tapping against the music the driver is playing and he even hums a little along the songs.

“Hey, how is the album writing going?” you ask to break the silence a little.

“Great! They asked for fifteen songs until the end of August, so I have plenty of time, but I’m already done with six,” he beams, and you smile back at him proudly.

“That’s amazing. Can I hear any of them sometime?”

“I mean… if you buy the album?” he chuckles, making you roll your eyes at him. “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he then adds, giving your leg another squeeze before turning towards the window.

The party is just the same as it always is. A luxurious evening to celebrate the company’s success in the past six months, a way to give back to the employees and make them feel appreciated with all the free stuff. It’s nice, but you don’t feel like it’s necessary, people would be happier with a raise after all, than one night of free food and drinks.

Harry holds your hand as you walk in, the majority of the guests already present, music playing and there are several open buffet tables and bars in the gigantic ballroom that was decorated in a forest-like theme just for tonight.

“So you did not lie about bringing a date!” Anthony beams as soon as he sees you, his boyfriend, Pete following him right behind, both of them wearing matching burgundy suits.

“Have I lied to you about anything?” you chuckle awkwardly.

“Plenty of times,” he points out before turning towards Harry. “Hello handsome, I’m Anthony, Y/N’s favorite coworker, and this is my boyfriend, Pete.” They all shake hands, Harry smiling back at them warmly before his hand finds yours again, his fingers lacing together with yours in an instant.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, I’m Harry.”

“Oh my! The accent!” Anthony gushes, clearly already a fan of Harry’s. “I was really afraid Y/N just said that she is bringing someone so we would get out of her hair this time.”

“I feel offended,” you give him a look, but he just shrugs it off, even though he is more right than he knows.

“Come on, let’s get you guys a drink, we are all sitting over there!”

Joining all your coworkers at the table, you get a head start on the food and drinks, not shying away from stacking everything you like onto your plate. Talking, mixing and mingling, Harry stays right next to you, charming everyone the two of you meet, earning you some approving looks from your colleagues that usually try to set you up with someone they know. This time, you’re left in peace the moment they see Harry with you, his hand always somewhere on you, holding your hand, the small of your back, your hips or waist or, your personal favorite, the back of your neck under your hair. His presence is uplifting already, but his tiny touches just warm you even more on the inside.

“I have to say, Y/N, you are absolutely glowing!” Dianne, one of the editors compliment you when the two of you are at the bar waiting for your drinks to be refilled. Harry stayed back at the table, deep in conversation with Pete about guitars, from what you could understand from their conversation.

“Oh, thank you!” you chuckle softly.

“This man is for sure treating you well. It’s so great to see you finally finding your person.”

She meant well with her comment, but it’s what brings everything you kept hidden in the back of your head out to the front. Tonight was supposed to be all pretending, making everyone believe something that’s not even there, but then why do you feel like it’s real? Like you fooled yourself with everyone else as well?

Your eyes fall back to Harry at the table, who is intently listening to something Pete is telling him and as if he had a sixth sense, his eyes snap at you, a smile stretching across his pretty face at an instant that makes you stomach dance again, heart beating oddly fast.

What is happening to you? This cannot be real, you can’t be having feelings, especially not for Harry. No, you do not allow that for yourself, emotions are off limits for you, because if you fall for someone that gives them the chance to leave you and break you and you’ve seen what it does to a woman. You got enough of the suffering through your mother and you vowed not to let it happen to you. And not even Harry Styles will change that. This is about sex and nothing else, no feelings are involved and that will not change. You won’t let it.

Excusing yourself from Dianne you quickly go back to the table, the refills long forgotten as you take your seat next to Harry. His hand instantly finds your leg as he looks at you with a sweet smile at first that turns into slight confusion.

“Thought you went for a refill?”

“Forget the drinks,” you shake your head, leaning closer to his ear. “You promised me bathroom sex.”

You feel the shift in him right away, how he bites into his bottom lip, his bright green irises darkening at your words, his hold on your leg tightening. His gaze flickers to your eyes and you want to devour him, you want him to take you here and there to prove you that this is all it’s about: sex.

Clearing his throat he mumbles a lame excuse as he pulls you from your chair, tugging you towards the restrooms, you try to keep up with his pace in your heels, but you also can’t wait for him to slam you against the door and fuck you quick and hard.

As soon as you’re locked away from the party in one of the bathrooms, your lips collide with his as he pushes you up against the door, a leg coming between your thighs and you can’t stop yourself from grinding on him.

“Fuck,” he rasps out, hands cupping your jaw as he angles your head just right while your hands are already traveling down his body to reach his pants, eager to get them undone as fast as possible.

However the sudden rush and desperation catches Harry’s eyes and he grabs your hands, stopping you mid-action.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asks, out of breath, concern filling his eyes.

“I just need you to fuck me,” you bluntly reply, but he doesn’t move.

“Okay, but why do you look so shaken up? Did something happen?”

“Harry, stop babying me! I said I’m fine, I just want you to fuck me!” you snap, losing your patience. Not sure if it’s with him or with yourself though.

“You’re obviously not fine! You are snapping at me for being decent and making sure you’re okay!” Harry steps away from you, the moment completely ruined as all physical contact ends with him, his eyes staring back at you in disbelief and you feel like a ticking bomb that’s about to explode.

“It’s not your concern if I’m okay or not. We have a deal, just go with that and leave the rest to me!”

“But above the deal we are friends too. I’m not gonna just… fuck you senseless when you’re obviously upset about something. You’re not in the right mindset.”

“Oh my God, stop being so fucking nice! Stop making these grand gestures and stop pretending like you give a fuck!” You raise your voice and it surely surprises him, but he is still more concerned than angry at your outburst.

“What do you mean pretending? I do care about you! Is that a fucking crime now?!”

“It is because it is for the wrong reasons!” you retort, feeling your throat closing up at the same time. Oh God, you hope you won’t start crying, that will make it even worse. “I think you are taking this pretending a little too far tonight. We are not a couple, this is not real, Harry,” you remind him.

He stares back at you for what feels like eternity and you wish you could read his mind, because you can’t read anything from his eyes, he just stands there like a statue and you feel panic crawling up your spine, slowly digging its claws into your flesh.

And then he finally breaks his silence.

“And would it be so bad if it was real?”

You can’t help a sob that emits from you, feeling like your guts are in a tight grip by his words. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen.

“No, take that back!” you whine.

“I’m not taking it back! Y/N, what we’ve been doing these past weeks is exactly what a relationship is like and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it until a label was put on it. It doesn’t have to change anything!”

“But it is! And you know I don’t do this!”

“Don’t do what? Feelings? You don’t get to choose that!” he chuckles bitterly.

“I do! I fucking do! And I chose not to have them so… this is ending here, because you clearly caught feelings,” you pant in desperate need of getting out of the bathroom, but when you are about to open the door Harry’s hand snaps against it, keeping it closed. You rest your forehead against the cool surface of it, feeling Harry stand so close to you behind, his chest is touching your back.

“Don’t just walk away, we are in the middle of a conversation,” he growls, his voice filled with anger and warning.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you whisper, shaking your head as you turn around and face him, your back pressing against the door.

“But I do,” he simply replies. “Why do you think you can just run away from feeling anything for the rest of your life? Why would it be so bad if you fell for someone, huh? I know you do have feelings, I know you well, Y/N. You’re not some cold hearted jerk, you are a caring and loving person, so why won’t you let yourself be happy?”

“I am happy the way I am, have you thought about that?”

“No, you’re not. I’ve known you half my life, I know that you want to be cared for, you want to be loved and cherished, yet you push away everyone who wants to give you that.”

“Because it’s not that easy, Harry!” you snap at him. “It’s never just the lovey-dovey shit! Feelings come with hurt and pain and heartbreaks and I don’t need that! I can’t handle that!”

“It’s not always the case! But if you never put yourself out there, you’ll never find the happiness you’re seeking!”

“Well, for me, it doesn’t worth it! I don’t want to fall for someone, plan my future with them and open up to them completely only for them to fall out of love with me one day and decide they don’t want anything to do with me! I don’t want to give anyone the chance to hurt me like that, because I’ve seen what it does to a person! I witnessed it all, Harry! I will not be a victim to that!”

You’re full on shouting, tears rolling down your cheeks at this point. You are letting everything out that’s been bottled up deep inside of you all this time. Nothing can make you believe in the fairytale that will never become your reality and you rather save the time and pain than experiment with it.

What really hurts is that now you are losing your friend. Your best friend. Because the way Harry is looking at you makes it obvious that you’ll never be like before the deal. The hurt, the shock, the panic and the anger, it all mixes in his wide-eyed gaze and it’s like a knife into your chest.

“You promised me, Harry,” you sob, voice now barely more than just a whisper. “You swore you wouldn’t catch feelings but you lied!”

“I didn’t lie,” he simply answers clenching his jaw. “I said I wouldn’t catch feelings for you, but truth is… I already had them. I was already in love with you, have been for a while. And you know what? I think you love me too, but you’re just too afraid to admit it. I know it because I can feel it. The way you touch me, look at me, the way you talk to me, it’s written all over you, but you choose to ignore it.”

“You don’t know shit,” you shake your head vigorously. “You think you know it, but you don’t.”

“Stop denying it, Y/N! You can’t just switch it off! Loving is not as horrendous as you think it is! Yes, it comes with pain too, but the good is always there to make you forget about it. You have to give it… you have to give yourself a chance!”

“I don’t have to do anything, Harry,” you sass back, pushing him away so you have the chance to sneak out of the room before he could stop you. But he doesn’t let it end that easily. Running after you he catches your wrist before you could get out of the hallway, pulling you back.

“Don’t just fucking walk away, Y/N! We need to talk about this!”

“No, we don’t. And I’m done with this. Done with… you.”

It hurts. The words rolling off of your tongue hurt, but you choose to ignore it once again as you shake his hand off of yourself, marching back to your table to grab your bag and leave.

“What do you mean you’re done with me? Don’t do this, Y/N! Let’s just fucking talk!”

Harry keeps trying to stop you, but you’re determined to leave. Your coworkers notice the little scene, but you don’t pay it any attention as you head out of the room, knowing well they’ll talk shit about you behind your back as soon as you’re out of the building.

“Y/N for fuck’s sake just stop already!” Harry snaps, grabbing your arm once again when you’re outside, pulling you back, but you’ve had enough.

“No! I’m not stopping, you need to stop! Stop trying to make yourself believe this is anything more than just the deal we made! It’s not and it will never be, because you don’t get to have the privilege of hurting me, nobody gets to do that!”

“Who said I want to hurt you?! That’s the last thing I would want to do! It’s not as cruel as you imagine it, Y/N. I know that your mum had a terrible love life when you were younger, but that’s not the only side to love! There are so much good about it, so much to fight for and endure with the bad sides, you can’t just throw all of it out the window because you decided love is just not for you!”

“I can and I will. Watch me!” you bite back, tearing your arm out of his hold as you step to the side of the pavement and wave a taxi down.

“Please don’t get into that car, Y/N, let’s talk!”

“We talked enough,” you huff as the car stops in front of you and you hop inside, but just as you are about to close the door Harry once again stops you.

“Y/N, I love you. Please don’t do this!” he begs, so much sorrow and pain radiating from his face and for a moment you fall weak. You almost reach out to him, because part of you hates seeing him like this, especially knowing that it’s because of you. You just want him to be happy, but you know it’s not gonna be with you. You can never give him what he wants and needs. He’ll be better off without you.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out before pulling the door closed and the car drives away. Turning around you see him stand on the pavement, completely broken and shaken, his hands tangling into his hair as he angrily kicks at the dirt before the car melts into the traffic and he falls out of your sight.

You did it for your and Harry’s sake. It had to be done and you are both better off this way. At least that’s what you’ve been trying to convince you to believe.

But why does it hurt so badly then?

Harry tried you calling a million times after you left him at the party, he even came after you and banged on your door for thirty minutes straight, begging you to let him in and just talk, but you didn’t even answer him. Just waited until he left before you curled up in the shower and cried for about an hour.

The calls and texts kept coming in the next few days, but after a while he gave up. He got nothing but silence from your side and one last, long ass text that you didn’t even read because you knew you’d just start crying again, he finally gave up.

You were left alone with all the pain and emptiness and you realized how big part of your life Harry played before. Somehow, everything reminded you of him and you couldn’t do anything without wishing he was with you.

You truly believed that time will heal you, that soon you’ll realize that you made the right decision, but days turned into weeks and nothing changed, you just learned to live with the pain. You stopped going out with your friends and not just because you were afraid of seeing Harry, but because you genuinely couldn’t get yourself to leave the house. Your evenings consisted of binge eating all the ice-cream you could find in your freezer and watching reruns of your favorite shows, but nothing could really take your mind off of Harry.

Day after day you cancelled on Leticia as well until she had enough of your hermit life. She got fed up watching you sink into your pit of sorrow and decided to take things into her own hands and not let you run away from her.

A Friday evening you’re doing what you’ve been doing for weeks now, lying on your couch in sweatpants, scrolling through Netflix when there’s a knock on your door. You wait, hoping whoever it is will think you’re not home and go away, but another obnoxious knock rips through the apartment and you growl.

“I know you’re in there bitch, open the fucking door!” Leticia shouts from outside and you curse the day you became friends with her. Maybe you would have been better off as enemies.

“I’m busy!” you call out, but make your way to the front door anyway, opening it to reveal her.

“Yeah, I can see that. Busy with being a bag of trash,” she comments on your appearance, walking inside without an invitation.

“Jeez, you really did wake up today and chose violence,” you mutter under your breath as you shut the door closed.

Leticia is quick to turn the TV off and open up the windows as you just stand there, not sure what she is doing here.

“When did you clean this place? And when was the last time you took a shower?” she asks, her nose scrunching when she takes a better look at you.

“Okay, did you come here to offend me? Because I don’t need that so please leave.”

“No, I’m here to beat some sense into you.”

“Good luck with that,” you scoff, taking your spot on the couch once again. You reach for the remote with the intention of turning the TV back on, but Leticia stands in front of the screen, blocking the device completely as she stares down at you with a disapproving look, arms folded on her chest.

“You’re acting like a child, Y/N. Avoiding everyone and being mad at the whole world, are you an emo teenager now or what?”

“I’m not mad at the whole world!”

“Okay, then you’re mad at just Harry, still, it’s a mistake.”

“I’m not mad at only Harry either,” you admit truthfully.

“Who else then?”

“Myself?” you mumble, eyes falling closed as you slide lower down on the couch.

“That makes the two of us, but why are you mad at yourself?” she asks, finally moving from her spot in front of the TV as she sits next to you on the couch, crossing her legs as she waits for your answer.

“Because…” you start with a sigh, opening your eyes, but you avoid looking at her, instead, you stare at the wall across you. “Because I can’t fucking stop thinking about him,” you admit and your lips start trembling instantly, just like every time you think about him. “I miss him so fucking badly, Tish! I miss our conversations, I miss his stupid jokes, I miss him raiding my fucking fridge and I miss…”

You bite your tongue, not wanting to admit the next thoughts loudly. Because you miss kissing him, you miss holding him and be held by him. You miss sex too, but you miss the tiny things even more, the way his lips feel against yours, how he smiles against them when you whimper his name and you miss the awkward little things the most. When he accidentally bumps his head against yours or when say random shit right before he pushes into you just to make you laugh, or when he leans in for a kiss but misses it and ends up kissing your nose or just the corner of your mouth. You miss everything about him and you hate him for that, but you hate yourself even more. It feels like your own conscious has betrayed you.

Shutting your eyes closed you let the tears roll down your cheeks as Leticia scoots closer and wraps her arms around you, cooing soothingly at you.

“It’s alright. It’s totally normal, Y/N.”

“It is not! Not for me at least!” you protest pulling back, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands.

“Stop with the bullshit already!” she growls in annoyance. “You are not some kind of ice queen who is incapable of loving! You love me, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s different,” you roll your eyes.

“Not really. You love your other friends as well, right?” You nod. “And you love your mom,” she adds and you nod again. “Would you do anything for these people?”

“Of course.”

“Do you like spending time with them? Do you care about them in all kinds of ways?”

“Yes,” you sigh, fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

“Do you feel the same way about Harry? Do you care about him, would you do anything for him to make him happy?”

“Yes,” you whisper truthfully.

“Then don’t complicate it. You love him, no big deal! And he surely loves you back, because he told you, right?” You nod. “Then pull your head out of your ass and just let yourself be happy for once.”

“Why are you coming with this too? I was happy on my own too!”

“No, you were getting by,” she points it out. “You were doing good, but you weren’t… a whole. Harry gave you everything you missed, but for some fucked up reason you think it’s the end of the world to depend on someone else partially when it comes to your happiness. Which can be a smart thing, it’s important to be your own person and be independent, but sometimes we need some help from others. From people that love us and we love them back. It’s not a crime, Y/N.”

“No, but it’s gonna end up with me being heartbroken.”

“You already are,” she ruthlessly replies, bringing your attention to what you’ve been trying to ignore all this time. “Hate to break it to you, but this is what that feels like. So why not just go with it, you already felt the pain, now you could go for the good parts as well.”

“I don’t know if I can do it, Tish,” you breathe out, resting your head against the back of the couch. “Even if I did it, I know I would mess it up and hurt him or maybe he’ll do something stupid and hurt me and I don’t think I can handle that.”

“So what? It’s part of the deal. And besides, you’re already hurting each other, so you better get your shit together,” she scoffs, poking your side playfully.

It’s part of the deal. Are you ready to make a new deal? One that you’ve been avoiding your whole life? Are you ready to cut yourself open for someone else and just hope for the best?

Probably not. And probably you’ll never be. But your tactics didn’t succeed so far, you still ended up in pain so why not give it a chance? Even if it’s gonna be the hardest thing you’ve ever done?

“Do you think he hates me now?” you ask quietly, peeking at her scared of her answer.

“He is a bit mad at you for shutting him out, but he could never hate you. That man loves you so much, it’s almost disgusting,” she admits, making you chuckle. “Just… be honest with him and talk to him. You need it. You both need it.”

Harry’s fingers strum against the chords again, trying to get the tune right, but he fails again, a frustrated growl leaving his lips as he lets his head fall forwards. He’s been trying to finish the song for hours, but it still hasn’t come together the way he imagined and his patience is running short.

It’s been hard for him to focus on writing, with you on his mind all the time, everything seems like a hard task. He has written plenty of songs since the night at the party, but he could never use them for his job. One, because they are so fucking sad and depressive and they asked for upbeat hits from him, and two, because they are all so personal, he could never give them to someone else. He can’t let anyone else sing the lines he wrote to you, but you’ll probably never hear them.

Giving up on finishing the song today, he puts the guitar aside and calls it a day. Walking into the kitchen he opens the fridge and realizes that it’s completely empty aside from a bottle of ketchup and a single banana. He’s been such a mess lately, he forgot to go grocery shopping yesterday. Huffing to himself he grabs the banana and reaches for his phone to order something right when his doorbell rings. He is not expecting anyone, but Mitch has been popping in every few days to check in on him since everything that went down with you, so Harry is convinced it’s him again.

“Great timing, do you want Italian or Chinese?” he asks, walking up to the door, but as he swings it open he freezes when he sees you standing on the doormat. “Y/N…” he breathes out as if he was seeing a ghost.

“Hi! I-I hope I’m not bothering you o-or anything…” you ramble nervously.

“No! No, come on in!” He snaps out of his trance and steps aside, letting you walk inside. A feeling of nostalgia hits you right away as you think back at the last time you were here. Just a few days before the party, when everything was different.

“I’m sorry I came without asking, I just… I would say I was nearby, but that’s not true,” you chuckle anxiously as the two of you walk into the living room. You notice that his place is a little messier than usually, but it’s not nearly as bad as yours was before you did a deep cleaning yesterday after Leticia’s comments on it.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. What… What brought you here?”

“I, uhh… I’ve been thinking. A lot. And I have a few things I need to tell you.”

For a moment Harry’s stomach drops, because he thinks you came here to tell him off one more time for breaking your deal, for everything that happened at the party. He is already bracing himself to just let you lash out on him, but it never comes. And when you speak up again, he nearly faints.

“I love you.”

It’s a strong start, definitely a surprising one. Harry’s lips part and his eyes widen, his look almost comical, but you’re not laughing, not now. You have a lot to tell him and you can only hope he won’t throw you out after everything is said.

“I love you and I’m sorry it took me so long to stop ignoring it, but I promise you I’m done with that. And I’m sorry for everything I said to you that night, I was… mad and confused and I didn’t know how to deal with everything at once. I was delusional and ignorant and… a fool for thinking that I could just choose to never have feelings, especially for you,” you add with a tiny, nervous chuckle. “You were right. About everything. That I can’t live without ever putting myself out there and risking it. And I think deep down I knew that, but I was so afraid of getting hurt that I made myself believe I’m good on my own, but I’m not. Not entirely, to be precise. Because sometimes it is worth risking it and… and I realized that you are the person for me who is worth this risk.”

The tears are already blurring your vision, for the millionth time these past weeks, but it feels right now. Opening up to Harry and telling him all of this is hard, but with every spoken word you feel lighter and more relieved.

“I’m sorry if I made you think that I don’t love you, because I do. I really do. You are my best friend and these past weeks have been hell for me without you. I was so keen on avoiding a heart break that I ended up breaking my own heart,” you chuckle bitterly, the first tear running down your cheek.

Harry reaches out and wipes it away with his thumb and you involuntarily melt into his touch. You’ve been starved for it and now it feels like home. When you look up and your eyes meet his, you see that they are red too and it just makes you want to cry even more.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just thought that I was doing the right thing, but I was so far from that. So I’m really sorry and I understand if you don’t want to see me again for the way I acted. I was… a horrible friend and… an even worse girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah. Because you were right, we were more than just the deal and… if you choose not to throw me out after this, I would… I would love to give it a try with you. I want to be the girlfriend you deserve and though I’m sure I’ll mess it up a lot of times, I promise I’ll try my best, becau—“

He makes your rambling stop in the best way possible, lips smashing against yours as he cups your tear-soaked cheeks in his warm palms, pulling you close to him, your arms curling around his waist immediately.

Harry has kissed you several times before, but none of them compares to this. It’s messy and salty from both your tears, but you wouldn’t change a thing about it, the way his lips move against yours, tongues meeting, devouring each other, making up for the lost time and full of promises for the future. You hold onto his shirt at his back for dear life as he just keeps kissing you over and over again until you both run out of breath.

“So, does this mean you’re not throwing me out?” you joke, breaking the silence once you’ve pulled back.

“Fuck no,” he laughs, pecking your lips a few more times before his lips meet your forehead. “You are not leaving this place, ever. You’re trapped,” he adds to the joke and you break out in a relieved laughter.

“Wait, so I’m stuck with you now?” you whine playfully, but all you get is another kiss on the lips, hard and demanding.

“Yeah, forever, baby. You won’t get rid of me now, not after the speech you just gave me,” he smirks down at you, his arms coming to curl around your shoulders as he keeps you pressed against him tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply, your heart soaring as you hear those words again from him, this time, not even trying to dodge them in any way. In fact, you just want to hear him say it every minute over and over again for the rest of your life. “And I’m happy to be stuck with you,” you add with a shy smile as his grin widens at your words.

“Yeah? So we have a new deal then?” he teases, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Absolutely.”

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

[obeymeoasis]

Demon Bros React: MC Is Insecure

Warnings: mentions of insecurity surrounding body image, physical appearance, self-worth.

Lucifer

It was the day after a party Diavolo had thrown at his castle. You had had fun for the most part, dancing with the brothers and eating delicious foods prepared by Barbatos. 

But you also remembered how it had felt to look around the room and realize you were surrounded by gorgeous demons, not a single flaw on anyone’s face. Doubt and insecurity had begun to creep into your mind, and that feeling had carried over into the next day.

You had only talked briefly with Lucifer at the party because he was too busy interacting with Diavolo’s guests. Every time you tried to catch his eye, you noticed how beautiful whoever he was talking to was and found yourself swallowing down your greeting.

Currently Lucifer was at his desk like always, scribbling down notes and shuffling through papers. You brought him afternoon tea and sat reading in one of his armchairs to keep him company.

You had been telling yourself that you were going to ask him the question that was burning in your mind, but an hour had already passed since you first came in. You tried to distract yourself with your book but the words were fuzzy on the page. Finally, you spoke. “Luci?”

He didn’t look up from his desk when he answered, “Yes, love?”

“Do you... do you ever wish I was more beautiful?”

The scratching of his pen stopped immediately and Lucifer lowered the papers he was holding to show his face, a carefully blank expression revealing nothing. “What exactly do you mean by that question?”

“I mean exactly what I asked. Do you ever wish I was more beautiful? More attractive? As the Avatar of Pride have you ever been... embarrassed to be seen with me?”

At this Lucifer’s expression grew cold and furious. “Has someone... made you feel this way? Has someone made you feel as if you are inadequate?” You shook your head sadly and whispered, “No, just my own brain.”

“Ah, I see. Well pet, I don’t ever wish you were more beautiful because you are the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen. So it would be physically impossible for you to be more beautiful than you are now.”

You snorted. “Luci, that was so cheesy. Your brothers would throw up if they heard what you just said.” Lucifer’s lips quirked up in amusement. “Well, I’m glad I was able to make you laugh. And I do mean what I said. I’ve never once felt embarrassed to be with you; you are my pride, the source of my happiness. If anyone were to suggest otherwise, I would gladly kill them.”

“Luci, we’ve been over this. You can’t just kill everyone who is mildly rude to me.”

Lucifer went back to working on his papers but there was a gentle smile on his face. “Darling, you’ll find that I definitely can. I have a permit.”

Mammon

You were regretting tagging along to one of Mammon’s photo shoots. At first, it seemed like a fun idea getting to look at all the clothes, makeup, and jewelry. Plus, you really wanted to see what Mammon was like when he was working professionally. 

It was fun at first, you cooing over how handsome Mammon looked in his outfit and watching him get all flustered and blushy. But then the actual photoshoot started and you watched as Mammon posed with a stunning model.

You tried to not let your insecurities get the best of you. You were here to support Mammon! But as the shoot progressed you couldn’t help but start to compare yourself, keeping track of how they were more beautiful and you more flawed. 

The photographer stopped to take a break and Mammon immediately bounced over to you. “MC, did you see me? How does it feel to watch the Great Mammon in his natural element? I look good, don’t I?”

You caressed Mammon’s cheek and feigned a bright smile. “You were amazing Mammon! You look so handsome. And this is such a cool outfit!” But Mammon was somehow always able to tell when you were faking a good mood and he frowned. “MC, is something wrong? You look sad. Did something happen?”

You opened your mouth, an excuse ready on your lips, but found you couldn’t lie right to Mammon’s face. You gestured toward the model who was talking to their manager in the corner. “Do you ever wish I looked like that?”

Mammon cocked his head, confused. “Do I ever wish you had blue hair? Not particularly? Although now that I think about it, blue hair would look cool on you too.”

You sighed. “No, I mean do you ever wish I looked like a model? Sexier? Or prettier?” Mammon thought for a moment, processing your question, and then frowned. “Oh no no no. Treasure, what’s this all about? What happened?”

“Sorry Mams, I didn’t want to distract you while you’re working. I just got really low and insecure all of a sudden. Started thinking about how you should be with someone really beautiful, you know? And sometimes I feel like that’s not me.”

Clearly upset, Mammon rushed to give you a crushing hug, tucking your head underneath his chin. “MC I- I wish I could beam my thoughts into your head. That way you’d really believe me when I say that you’re so precious to me. Every day I wake up and think about how lucky I am to be with you.”

You chuckled a little. “I do put up a lot with you, don’t I.” Mammon gently smacked you on your back. “Hey! I’ve been good lately! But seriously MC, you are stunning. You are gorgeous. And it’s okay if you don’t believe me right now because- because I’ll tell you as many times as you need me to! I’ll tell you a thousand times a day! A million times!”

You tried to blink away the tears in your eyes and held onto Mammon even tighter. “Thanks Mams, I love you so much.”

“Love you too treasure. Your first man’s gonna take care of you, don’t you worry about a thing.”

Leviathan

Usually you liked watching anime with Levi; it was one of your favorite things to do together. Levi was always more happy and lively when watching with you because he was able to express his opinions freely without judgment. And you thought it was adorable how excited Levi got over his favorite characters and storylines.

Today, you were snuggled together on some cushions re-watching an episode of “The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl”. At first you were enjoying the episode, laughing as Ruri got used to the oddities of the human world. But Levi’s repeated comments about how cute Ruri-chan was, which you usually never minded, started to bother you a bit.

You took a quick glance around the room, noting Levi’s enormous collection of Ruri-chan posters, figurines, and other merch. Levi tapped you on the knee, interrupting your thoughts. “MC, you’re missing the best part! What are you looking at?”

You sighed a little, struggling to act nonchalant. “Sorry Levi, it’s nothing. I’m still watching.” Frowning, Levi paused the episode and turned to look at you. “Hey, what’s up?”

Taking a deep breath, you said “Levi, I’m not Ruri-chan.” He narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Yes... I know?”

You continued, “I don’t look like Ruri-chan. Does that bother you?”

“Does it bother me... that you don’t look like an anime character?” He repeated the question slowly, as if you had asked him the strangest question in the world.

Frustrated, you blurted out “I don’t look like Ruri-chan! I’m never going to be as cute as her!”

Levi looked completely bewildered, his eyes wide and staring at you in confusion. “B-But you are cute! MC, w-what are you even talking about?” 

Embarrassed at your outburst you looked down at the floor silently. Levi scooted over toward you so that your knees were touching and he waited until you broke the silence. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m good enough. I think maybe you’d like it if I looked cuter or acted cuter, like the characters in anime.”

Levi hesitated for a moment before quickly grabbing onto your hand, blushing furiously as he did so. "MC, I-I already think you're c-cute. Really really cute. So don't say things like that. And also, I like you because you're you! Not because you're like someone else."

"And you make me really happy. I'm just a gross otaku. I never thought I'd be able to... to find someone like you. Someone who accepts me."

He tried to lock eyes with you but blushed even harder and stared at your joined hands. "Plus, I couldn't to-touch an anime character. But I can touch you. I can hold your hand or give you hugs whenever you need it, o-okay?"

You leaned your head onto Levi's shoulder and closed your eyes, letting the peaceful silence wash over you.

Satan

You were accompanying Satan on a trip to one of his favorite stores: an antique shop that sold all manner of rare books and artifacts. The owner, Ms. Sparrow, was a friend of Satan’s and she welcomed the two of you wholeheartedly.

Today, she looked as gorgeous as she always did. Her chic pearl dress and matching silk gloves shone against her dark skin. Not a curl in her hair was out of place and even the click-clack of her heels on the floor seemed melodious somehow.

You left Satan to look at the books and went wandering off into the various aisles of the store, marveling at all the bits and bobs. In one of the over-stuffed corners you happened to find a glittering silver key on a red velvet ribbon. Taking it in your hand, you went back through to show it off to Satan, wanting to ask him what he thought it opened.

But Satan was busy chatting and laughing with Ms. Sparrow. You watched the two of them for a moment and noticed how well they complimented each other. Both had a certain poise, a kind of confidence and certainty in their movements.

On your walk back to the dorms, you were unusually quiet and Satan noticed. “Pet, is something the matter?”

You hesitated, wondering if Satan was going to find your insecurity childish. “Satan, I’m not very....elegant.”

“Yes, I know. You choked on a piece of bread yesterday. The day before that you tripped over absolutely nothing and fell down.” He smiled, expecting for you to get riled up, but it fell when he saw that you looked dejected. “Love, what is the matter? Have I upset you?”

You avoided his gaze. “Sometimes... sometimes I wonder if I bring you down by being with you. I feel like you deserve someone elegant and sophisticated. Someone who matches you. But I’m not. I’m clumsy and messy and not perfect, like Ms. Sparrow.”

Satan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Ms. Sparrow? What does she have anything to with this?” He turned you around so that you were facing him. “Pet, please look at me. I love you. And I’m not with you in spite of you being clumsy or messy. I love you because you’re clumsy and messy, because those are parts of you and I love all of you.”

He leaned down to press his forehead against yours. “And why would I need someone perfect? Am I perfect? Yesterday you saw me screaming at my cup because I accidentally spilled some tea and burned my finger.”

You shrugged while giggling, “I thought it was a perfectly reasonable response.” You wrapped your arms around his and buried your face into his shoulder. “Thanks, Satan. You always know how to make me feel better.”

He reached down to give you a gentle kiss. “Anytime, love. I’m always here for you.”

Asmodeus

Asmo has a lot of fans across all his social media accounts. That was made perfectly clear the first time you went on a date with him outside. Sitting in the trendy coffeeshop, several people had come up to ask him for a picture or an autograph. He was never shy about you and always introduced you as his sweetheart, cooing about how beautiful you were. 

Some days it was okay. You loved seeing the bubbly social-butterfly side of Asmo. He was always so sweet to everyone who came up to him and genuinely enjoyed meeting new people. But other days, your insecurity rose up like a huge wave and dampened everything.

This particular day you were shopping with Asmo in a new boutique that had opened up. You were aimlessly flicking through the racks of clothes when you heard a large squealing.

Two demons ran up to Asmo, talking and gesturing excitedly. You could make out that they followed him on Devilgram and were asking if he was willing to take a picture with them. These demons were some of the most attractive beings you had ever seen. Their clothes were incredibly stylish and their hair and makeup were done flawlessly.

Looking around the shop, in all of the full length mirrors you could see the reflection of Asmo and his beautiful fans. And you looked out of place, like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit in at all. 

Tearing up, you grabbed a random pair of jeans off the rack and ran into a changing room. You turned away from the mirror, not wanting to look at yourself, and took deep breaths to try and keep from bursting into sobs. After a few moments Asmo began looking for you, having finished taking pictures. “Sweetheart, are you changing? Let me see what you’re wearing when you’re done!”

At the sound of his voice you burst into tears and your attempts to muffle the noise were futile. Outside the door, Asmo’s voice sounded panicked. “Darling, are you okay? What’s the matter? Please come outside, whatever it is please let me help you!” You hesitated, not wanting to face him, but this made him even more frantic. He started jiggling the doorknob and knocking on the door.

You opened it, afraid that he would accidentally break the doorknob leaving you trapped inside. As soon as he saw you he gathered you in his arms and began making shushing noises while smoothing your hair. “Sweetheart, why are you crying? Please talk to me, please tell me what’s wrong.”

You tried to get the words out in between sobs and hiccups. “A-Asmo, don’t you want someone m-more beautiful? Someone who-who looks g-good with you?” Asmo paused for a moment, processing your words, and then his eyes burned with anger. “Sweetheart, did one of my fans say something mean to you? Did someone make you feel like this?”

You shook your head vigorously. “No, just me.” Asmo breathed a sigh of relief at hearing no one had harrassed you and resumed smoothing your hair. “Oh, darling. You ARE beautiful. You’re stunning, sweetheart. I wish you could see the way I saw you, how adorable and gorgeous you are. And I understand that there are going to be days when you don’t believe me, when you feel like you’re not. But at least don’t go through those days alone, okay?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak without tearing up again.

"Now, let's go get some ice cream. We can eat it while taking a bubble bath."

Beelzebub

You weren’t really sure why Beel liked you coming with him to the gym all the time, even if you didn’t exercise. He said your presence was calming and that it made him focus better, which was odd because a lot of the time you just sat on an unoccupied machine and scrolled through your D.D.D.

Today was much the same, with Beel running on the treadmill and you watching some videos. The gym was pretty empty, just a few students exercising here and there.

Your eyes drifted to Beel who was running without even breaking a sweat. His body was all solid muscle: his arms, legs, and abs looked perfectly chiseled and toned. Last week you accidentally ran into Beel in the hallway and it felt like you had smashed into a brick wall. Beel, on the other hand, was completely fine.

You began to wonder what Beel thought about your body. He could be pretty handsy at times and he wasn’t shy in his affections. But what if there was something he didn’t like? Something that he thought needed changing?

He’s never mentioned anything about exercising to you before. But you thought back to the students you had seen in this gym: all of them were extremely fit with incredible bodies. You couldn’t help but start to compare yourself to them and think that maybe you were lacking.

Just then, Beel finished his run and walked over to you. You weren’t sure what kind of facial expression you were making but it seemed enough to concern him because he asked, “MC, is everything okay?”

“Hey Beel... do you ever wish I had a nicer body?”

He squinted in confusion. “What do you mean by ‘a nicer body’?”

“I don’t know... just better. Whatever nicer looks like for you.”

Beel was quiet for a moment, thinking. “No, I've never wished for that before. I still don't know what you mean by 'nicer'. I love you. And I love your body because its yours. The only thing that matters to me is whether you’re happy. And as long as I'm still allowed to touch you, then I'm happy.”

He looked at you nervously then, biting his lip. "Am I... still allowed to touch you?"

You laughed and reached to give him a hug, loving how safe it felt in his arms. "Of course, big guy. Thanks for making me feel better. You always know what to say."

Beel flushed with pride and closed his eyes in happiness, leaning into your hand as you patted him on the head.

Belphegor

You knew you were dreaming because you were sitting in a R.A.D classroom surrounded by fellow students, but you couldn’t focus on any of their faces. They were blurry, as if someone had smudged them like an artist had smudged some charcoal.

You were at your desk, looking around the classroom, when as if on cue all of the students began to slowly gather around you. They stood there silently for a moment, unmoving, and you felt a shiver go up your spine. 

And then one by one the students began to hurl insults at you.

“You’re not good enough. Not good enough for Belphegor.” “You’re ugly, you’re hideous. “You’re unwanted, go back to where you came from.” “You don’t deserve what you have, don’t deserve good.” “You’re weak.” “You ruin others, you ruin everything.”

As they insulted you the students began to draw themselves closer, pushing and shoving to reach you. They almost made a cover over your desk as if to block out all the light. You hunched over your desk, shaking and panicking, trying to curl up to protect yourself.

One of the demons began shaking your shoulder roughly, you yelping in pain. He began yelling in your ear, “Wake up! Wake up!”

“MC! Wake up!”

You startled awake and looked around the room in fear. You were in Belphie’s bed, your pajamas sticking to you with sweat. Belphie was looking at you with concern, one hand still on your shoulder.

“MC, you’re okay. It’s just me. It was just a nightmare.” You let out a sob and buried yourself in his arms while he patted you on the back until your breaths evened out.

“D-Did you see my dream?” you asked. You were nervous about showing Belphie that weak side of you, the insecurities that had been brewing since the two of you had begun a relationship. He looked apologetic. “I did. You were whimpering and shaking in your sleep. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He reached over, one hand smoothing your hair, the fingers of his other hand interlaced with yours. “None of what they said was true, you know.” You looked down, embarrassed. “I mean it, MC. You are good enough. You’re beautiful, you’re wanted, you deserve all the nice and beautiful things in the world, you’re strong. And most importantly, you lift others up. You lift me up everyday.”

He lifted up your hand and pressed a kiss against it. “You lifted me out of darkness. I love you so much. And I’ll gladly stay by your side, for as long as you’ll have me.”

You grabbed the front of his sweater to draw him into a rough kiss, lips bruising. “Forever, Belphie. Forever.” 

[harrypotterbrainworms]

Painful Living

Summary: Remus hurts you accidentally as a werewolf as you’re trying your best to hide it. 

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Male Reader

Key: (Y/N)- your name

Word Count: 2718

Your face burned a little as you managed to get out before anyone else got hurt, and now you were limping back to your dorm. Now in the light you could see that it was worse than you initially thought. A fair scratch across your face with some added bruises and scrapes on your legs, better and worse than you had thought.

Things happened so fast, faster than you would’ve liked. This was a rare occurrence which the marauders barely prepared for. The evening outside still raged on as you cleaned yourself off. Nothing felt off or wrong at this moment, so you thought it’d be better to see Madam Pomfrey when it was actually daytime. You winced as you dabbed the alcohol on the wound. This was gonna leave a nasty scar. You collapsed into bed, your dreams felt hot and out of order. Your eyes burned as you opened them to find that as it usually does… time passed and now you were being awoken by an awful talking sound.

“Wah-What?” You managed to say before passing out again, the smell and taste of metallic blood filling your senses as you fell face deep into the pillow. Dreaming of nothing and kind of everything. Hearing the sounds around you and the frantic people making weird sounds you assumed were probably words, but everything was so muffled.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” You could hear the fuzzy idea of words coming from a cocky looking mouth. Sirius.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just fine” You slurred out as you waved him away, you just felt a little sick, he should stop worrying. You shivered and pulled the duvet around you. It was cold last night and you think you had bled all over your pillow which was true as you looked back to see the red stain.

“Dammit.” You cursed as you got up, your head spinning before it settled and you could focus your eyes on Sirius.

“What happened last night?!” He scolded you, taking your face aggressively as he inspected the wound. It didn’t sting that much anymore, so you assumed it must’ve properly closed up now. He whispered a few curses to himself and let go of your face. “You just left?!” He pointed vaguely to the air, turning back to you with a hand on his hip.

“Did I?” You mumbled, rubbing your temples trying to remember the exact events of the night. Sirius clicked his fingers in front of you. “Earth to (Y/N), we need to get you to the hospital wing. Remus just got out” Sirius held his hand out towards you.

“Did you say anything?” You said as Sirius helped you out of bed. Your memory became less fuzzy as you walked towards the wing. “Remus. Oh god… Remus” He winced slightly.

“Remus what? Oh.” He looked at the door of the hospital wing, pausing to see if you wanted to go in alone. You nodded and he let you go, waving him off as he headed to breakfast.

Getting patched up, Madam Pomfrey didn’t chat or even scold you. Just working silently with pursed lips as you winced away from her every now and then. She checked you for any sign of infection before dabbing a potion of some kind that made it feel like your body closed in on itself, making you feel dizzy.

Just as quickly as you got in, you left, Lily waiting outside of the doors to escot you back and make sure you were okay.

“I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes, your feet dangling off the edge of the bathroom counter as she applied makeup to the newly formed scar across your face. “See? I’m dandy. Pomfrey patched me up and now no one needs to worry” You tried to give a reassuring smile, but Lily just shook her head.

“You need to tell him (Y/N).” Lily frowned, a hand on her hip as you watched her work her muggle magic on your face. You frowned back. No one needs to worry about you, you were fine. Why couldn’t anyone believe you? “Here. Bring it back after school… Tell him… for your’s and his sake.” She put a hand on your shoulder and you shrugged it off, getting up. “Fine.”

It was hard not to bump into someone as goddamn tall as Remus, but somehow you managed just long enough to make sure he didn’t see you as you slipped out to reapply. James gave you sad side glances from his desk until he managed to corner you. He got up, walking over to your desk, a furrow in his brow.

“Sirius told me.” Similar to Lily, he had placed a strategic hand on his hip, pouting slightly. “Of course he did.” You frowned, giving Sirius a side eye from your vantage point. “No, no. No ‘of course he did.’ It’s not fair to him” He pointed at Remus who was sitting away from the other Marauders similar to he was, looking very deep in thought. Your heart dropping a little bit.                

“Tell him.” His nostrils flared as he looked at you, you looked away, guilty.  “I can’t.” You whispered away from him, so he could barely hear you. He shook his head disappointedly.

“Fine. I warned you.” As he walked away, you subconsciously touched your face looking over at Remus as you sighed. It’s harder than James thinks, you thought to yourself. An audible sigh leaving you, you didn’t want to lie to your boyfriend, you really didn’t.

Sitting in the darkest corner of the library you can avoid the other, you hear footsteps approaching you. You froze before looking up to see Sirius. “I don’t want to hear it from you too, Pads.” You sighed, sinking further into your seat.

“You can’t tell him, (Y/N).” He sat down next to you, grabbing a book to hide his face as you both talked. “What?” You whispered.

“We both know he’s stubborn. He’ll dig himself into hole.” He whisper shouted back at you, his eyes peering from the top of the book. His eyebrows falling and rising as he talked, ending in a furrow and side glance towards James and Remus on the other side of the library.

“I don’t know.” You replied, sighing heavily as your brain tried to decipher your feelings. Tell Remus, Don’t tell Remus. it was a 2 for 2 vote, you sighed again. This was stupid. You touched your face again, thinking about what Remus would want. Probably to tell him. “Just keep it in mind.” Sirius ended on another frown, today sure was the day for frowning, you thought. He put the book down, giving you a nod as he disappeared behind a bookshelf.

It had been a full two days avoiding Remus like the plague, until he finally cornered you in a hallway on your way to class. Two arms trapping you to the wall, you could feel his breath against you.

“I’m not an idiot.” He asked in a calm anger, a scary trait he had. His eyes burning with determination as you wondered if you could just fall through the wall to avoid him. “I don’t know what you mean.” You lied.

“If you’re scared of me… Just say it.” His eyes pleaded for an answer from you as you struggled to further the lie. With his statement, he back away from you, seeing the metaphorical sweat on your brow.

“That’s- that’s not it” You fumbled, wringing your hands together as your heart pounded into your ears. “Then what?” He barked.

“I don’t- I can’t… I don’t know how to tell you-“ You smudge off makeup to reveal the scar. His face fell as you looked down. He wanted to reach out and trace your scar, but his eyes were filled with betrayal and sadness. You stayed quiet.

“I hurt you, didn’t I?” He demanded softy as you prayed to be sucked into the wall again. His eyes were filled with a kind of hurt you hadn’t seen before. A wave of guilt keeps you somehow quieter than silence itself.

“Just tell me!” He pushed further, stepping back as if your silence struck him a blow.

“I didn’t mean to lie, okay?-“ You tried to start, but he wasn’t having any of it.“What.” He deadpanned, his worst fears coming true as he watched you fumble your wording.

“It got out of hand and then no time was the right time and now-“ You tried even harder to explain yourself, but you had already dug yourself into a hole as you watched Remus’s eyes look for any reassurance that he was wrong.

“All of you lied to me?!” You gulped as his voice was raised, his voice straining as he tried to hold back tears. “To protect you!” You defended yourself as best you could.

“No.” He just said, his hands wanting to reach out even more, but he held them in front of his chest.

`I thought you’d be mad and then we’d break up and never speak again and-“ You wrung your hands together more frantically as he stepped away more.

“You thought right. I am mad.” He sighed sadly, not giving you the satisfaction of a last look as he walked away. A few tears finally escaped your eyes as you watched him.

You paced up and down the common room as Sirius, James and Peter did their own thing, your relentless thinking seemingly escaped your own head as James spoke up.

“I told you.” He hummed sadly as he waxed his broom. “I know.” You sighed. “So many times.” He looked up at you, a motherly shake and sigh as he rubbed circles around the helt. “I know.” You groaned, frustrated with your own decisions.

“For the record I said he’d be hurt.” Sirius wedged in his own opinion, you and James shooting him an angry look. He held up in arms in surrender, shutting his mouth before someone could tell him.

You groaned loudly, throwing your arms up in the air. “I’m going to sleep.’ You announced and your audience shrugged as you stormed off.

Tired and sad, you crawled into the sad excuse you called a bed, a light brown blood stain still on your pillow as you climbed in. You needed to tell Remus something, anything, that reflected your guilt, but you thought it best be a job for tomorrow if you could ever fall asleep.

You caught Remus in the courtyard, the sunset sky looking over it. He was alone, thank merlin, as he read to himself. You took a deep breath and tapped his shoulder. “What.” He stated, still mad. The statement not really in question and more ‘Please leave me alone.’ You sighed and tried to make the words come out, but as he stood up towering over you, you had to clear the lump in your throat before you spoke.

“Let me explain myself and you can hate me in peace, I promise.” You looked up at him with pleading eyes, he chuckled bitterly. “Please, Moony…” You pleaded further trying to catch his gaze.

“I don’t hate you, (Y/N)… How could I? It’s just that I don’t want to hurt you again. Look at you” He pushed your face up with his hand, tracing the scar across your face. “I couldn’t handle that. We made a promise and then you just lied to me.” You looked down, ashamed of his soft eyes piercing your soul. “Your word means nothing if I can’t trust you or myself.” You sat down on the stone ledge in the courtyard.

Remus frowned down at you, his lips pursed slightly as you tried to speak. He bent down to sit next to you.You were trying so hard to get the words out in a way that made sense. He sighed and looked away from you and up into the lilac sky. “Everyone promised no one would get hurt.” He looked back at you, laying a hand on yours. “I can’t handle hurting you again.” You keep your eyes locked away from him. You could hear him sigh again, taking the hand away. “I can’t handle you hurting me again…” He struggled to get the last words out, his throat catching the last syllable.

“This is why I couldn’t tell you. I can rest and be fine. You do it every month, I think I can handle getting a scratch.” You felt yourself growing more frustrated with him. Treating you like you couldn't handle a bit of roughhousing. Though every time he looked at your scar your heart hurt. You put a hand on his shoulder softly, trying to keep the same energy as him.

“It’s not fine. It’s different for me. I deserve this.” He shrugged it off, staying as stubborn as ever.

“You, Remus Lupin, don’t deserve this.” Your frustration was very clear through your tone now, pausing before every word.

“You can’t possibly understand what I go through.” He turned away from you now, eyes truly locked on the sky, refusing to look at you.

“I know that, but I’m trying to, okay?” You huffed out, crossing your arms as you watched his eyes dart from cloud to cloud. Choosing to focus on everything, but you. Your chest growing heavier with guilt and anger.

“Maybe you should stop then. You don’t need to.” He said as he stole a side glance as your frown, looking a little proud at his affect on you. “But I want to, Remus.” You sighed, crawling into yourself as you laid your arms and head on your legs.

“Then maybe we should break up.” The words landed into your brain with a crash, the feeling of the moon being pulled from the sky. Leaving you to feel the darkness that was washing over the sky as the sunset. “W-What?” You managed to choke out.

“Maybe we just shouldn’t be together, We can’t keep hurting each other.” He stared off into space, failing to notice the stream of the tears that started to fall down your face as the words felt like they were slowly choking you. “How can we date if you can’t be honest with me?” The sounds from your sobs were getting more difficult to keep to yourself. Your shoulders shuddered with the exhausted sobs leaving your body, Remus’s ‘peace’ being disturbed by this, he looked back at you.

“I’m s-sorry, I really… I really didn’t want to lie. Please don’t hate me, Remus. Please. I thought it would be okay, that you could be okay. I didn’t want to hurt you” The violent sobs took a course through your throat, the words harder than you thought they’d be. He frowned, this isn’t how he hoped it would go. Against all his better judgement he grabbed you, holding you close as you sobbed.

“It’s okay.” He hummed softly as he held your shaking frame, you sobbed harder into his chest. “It’s not. I lied t-to you. You deserved to know” You spoke muffled by his sweater. “I don’t want to lose you.” “You won’t lose me, love.” He squeezed your body a little tighter, your arms weakly snaking around him too.

“I shouldn’t have lied, it wasn’t fair to you.” You hiccuped as you pulled away from his grasp, looking up at him with the softest look you could. The guilt eating away at you as you watched him look back just as lovingly.

“It wasn’t” He sighed, taking your hands into his while you desperately tried to control your crying.

“I just… You can’t protect me all the time, even from yourself” His heart broke looking at the tears streaming down your face, his eyes softened as he held your hands pulling them to his lips to kiss softly. “I shouldn’t have said that to you.” He whispered into them which felt like it made you sob harder. He was so kind to you.

“I really am sorry, Remus.” You said as you held onto his soft hands, feeling his lips plant another kiss softly onto them.

“I know.” He said softly as you brought you into another hug, wrapping his arms warmly around you. It made you feel safe. It made him feel better.

[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo 3

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

First Chapter

Warnings: 18+ thigh riding, in a public setting, degration, cockwarming

Word count: 6k

Chapter Three

Maybe you hadn’t thought through about going to Hannibal’s dinner party. In the moment you had just missed the sound of his voice. His touch… Okay, you were motivated by other things than how much fun you would have at this little dinner party of his.

However you had to pull a lot of strings and work extra shifts, just so your bosses would even consider letting you off for a couple days. You were a valuable worker, one that would damage them to lose, but pettiness didn’t know any bounds. The stress was adding up. Still you trudged through it all. Not one to ever want to end up on Hannibal’s bad side.

You didn’t like making the perfect, polite ones angry. Loud anger you could handle. You were used to it. Quiet anger was just upsetting. He’d be upset you let him down, but he wouldn’t say it right. A soft sigh followed by a half meant it’s okay would probably be the most he’d give you. Disappointing him was a no go.

“I can’t wait for you to leave.”

“You’re so good at making me feel loved.”

“You know I do!” She laid back in your bed, arm’s comfortably behind her head, “But since you planned yourself a date. I did too.”

You grabbed clothes and threw them into a small duffel bag. “The chick from work?”

“God I wish. Can't work up the courage.”

“Don’t tell me you called up Reggie,” you laughed.

“Don’t tell me you got called up by Hannibal,” she mocked your voice. “Look! We’re a team! You can get dicked by someone that doesn’t deserve you. And I’ll romance a very pretty woman the entire weekend.”

“When is she getting here?”

“I’m shooting the text the second you’re out that door.”

You sighed, “You replace me so easily.”

“Oh baby,” she cooed, “Remember who’s leaving who.”

“A couple of days. You could be lonely for a few days.”

Alex walked you out. Stressing that you had to text her throughout your drive. It was only a three hour drive, but a lot could happen within that time.

All in all it wasn’t a bad trip. Monotonous without your usual partner in the passenger seat, but not bad. Your nerves bit at you. Hannibal’s social presence really was everything to him. Your head ran though countless ways you could mess up the night. Ultimately you wouldn’t, you knew that, but your brain sure did like to torture you with the idea.

“Everything will be fine,” you told yourself as you parked alongside the manor. Staying in the car for a moment you built yourself up. It was Hannibal. He knew about your home life. How you took your coffee. The things you’ve allowed him to do to you. Probably some understanding of things that he hadn’t done to you yet. A knock on your window pulled you out of your thoughts.

Opening the door you got out of the car.

“You weren’t thinking of running away, I hope,” Hannibal greeted.

“I wasn’t. Nerves,” you admitted. “It’s usually just the two of us, y’know…”

“Darling,” he scoffed, adjusting a piece of your hair, “I have no doubt in my mind that my companions wouldn’t adore you as much as I do.”

You moved to grab your bag, only for Hannibal to immediately take it from you. “You say that now, but that’s only because you’ve become accustomed to that certain charm I have at three in the morning after a night of studying. I’m not sure I can be as adorable to all of your friends.”

“Anyone that thinks otherwise has no place in my home.” Hannibal grabbed your hand in his own, leading you to the manor.

Once the front door closed, he wasted no time pulling you close. The kiss was long and rough. Both attempting to make up for lost time in the limited minutes you had. A soft moan from you made him press you against the door, the bag that had been in his hand long forgotten. His hand pressed lightly against your throat as he pushed a knee in between yours.

It was a long while before he pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed my favorite plaything,” He spoke into the shared air, “You’ve been away so long.”

“Your favorite?” You asked, looking at him dazed.

He smiled, mischief in his eyes. “I’d wager they couldn’t kiss you so well you’d look at them like they hung the stars after.”

“I do not!”

“Of course you don’t, darling.” He picked up your bag. “Come, we should start getting dressed.” You followed Hannibal up the stairs to his room. Apparently yours too, at least for the next couple of nights, since he emptied the contents of your bag into an empty dresser drawer. “You’re more than welcome to explore if you do get uncomfortable. I know meeting a sea of people can feel overwhelming.”

“I’m just afraid I’ll be out of place.”

“You’re exactly where I want you to be,” he disappeared into the walk-in closet, “The other’s are decent enough people. However, it makes sense that such divine beauty doesn’t fit in amongst commoners. I’d never dream of you finding yourself their equal.”

You walked over to examine the drawings he had hung on the wall next to his bed. “I’m not sure I’m worthy of such high thought.”

He came back, placing the suit and dress onto the bed. Standing behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. “I really do mean it, beloved. You’re strong and intelligent. As much as I’d like to, you won’t allow me to pull strings and help you. That’s more than most of the crowd coming over tonight. They haven’t faced hardships like yourself and I. Don’t allow yourself to be treated less than and, please, tell me if anyone makes you feel that way.”

You turned your head, kissing his cheek. “I’m not sure I believe it, but I’m grateful for the thought.”

“I simply must make it my mission to prove it.” He inhaled deeply, “You’ve changed your perfume?”

“I liked the one you bought,” you said simply, getting out of his arms, you looked at the dress he had gotten you. The piece of fabric was easily the most expensive thing you owned now. It didn’t match his suit, but the two certainly complimented each other. “You really didn’t have to.”

“I want to,” he went to open another dresser drawer, pulling out a small box, “Consider it all a graduation present. You worked hard and deserve a reward for it. We didn’t get a chance to see one another before you left.”

“You’ve had these since then?” You asked.

“Of course. How could I resist an opportunity to find you a gift? And with Alex so graciously allowing me to buy you a dress, I figured tonight would be a wonderful time to give you your gift.” He opened the jewelry box.

“Hannibal,” you gasped quietly, the jewelry glimmered brightly, “It’s beautiful.” Usually you weren’t one for objects, but this was also the most thoughtful thing you’ve ever received. Hannibal had taken the small bits he knew of you and picked out the perfect pieces of jewelry for you. It was the feeling of being known so well that made it special.

“The second I saw this set I couldn’t help but think of my darling girl. Would you like me to put the necklace on you now?”

You quickly shook your head, “After I get dressed, please. I wouldn’t want to risk dirtying it while I’m getting ready.”

“In that case, I’ll show you where you can get ready.”

You grabbed the things you needed to make yourself look presentable and followed Hannibal to the bathroom. To your surprise he started to undress after he hung up his suit and your dress. You shrugged it off and set your stuff on the counter, you were more than comfortable with him and you and Alex had taken to doing similar in your cramped bathroom early mornings. The shower turned on while you took out your makeup. His humming filled the otherwise quiet room.

When you were pleased with how your makeup looked, you moved on to fussing with your hair. The shower shut off and your eyes wandered briefly in the mirror. You watched the show as he dried off his chest and followed the towel up as he dried his hair. He caught your eye, brow raised, you shrugged and sent a wink his way.

You got undressed, tossing your clothes in the hamper as you did. Walking over to the dress you felt the fabric between your fingers, studying the intricate pattern that was sown on to it.

“You don’t like it, darling?” Hannibal asked as he buttoned his shirt. “There’s another in the closet, but I was hopeful you’d like this one. You'd look stunning.”

“Admiring,” you stated simply, “Wait there’s another?”

“There’s a show, I’d like to see tomorrow. I figured it could be an outing for us.” He checked himself over before styling his hair. “This is ‘Making it worth my while’ as Alex said.”

“Han, you know better than to listen to Al.” You sighed, “I’m grateful, I honestly am. It’s just embarrassing. I really can’t give you anything in return.”

Hannibal came over to you, holding one of your hands in his. “They’re simple trinkets of my affection. In the end they all mean nothing. YN, you grace me with your presence and time, which is something that can never be repaid in form. I hold you dearly, your time is more than I deserve.”

You stood on the tips of your toes kissing him gently. There was all the time later for a rougher touch. Now you just wanted to feel him pressed close against yourself. A brief flick of thought asked if you really wanted this to just be a fleeting thing between friends. Pulling away, you gave him one final kiss to the side of his mouth.

“You’re allowed to give me one gift a month,” you teased, as you grabbed his tie and set to work on tying it for him. “You’re not my sugar daddy, as much as Alex wishes you were.”

“And you’re welcome to set as many rules as you’d like when it comes to this. However, what’s forcing me to follow them?” His hands grazed along your sides, “We both understand who makes the rules, don’t we little one?”

The part of you that had become accustomed to that particular tone, faltered slightly. “Hannibal, we’re not always in sessions,” you reminded him as you tightened the tie, “You can’t just have your way.”

“Why not?”

You shook your head, annoyed, “Or you can do what you’d like. It’s your wallet after all.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately, “I don’t want to offend you.”

You let it go, there was no use to fight over this. “It’s okay, you’re only teasing right?”

“May I please see you in the dress?” He asked, lightening the mood.

You turned, returning to the piece of elegant fabric. Carefully you pulled it on. He really was excellent when it came to fashion. The dress hugged the right places and accentuated everything wonderfully. Hannibal stepped behind you once again. Zipping the back for you, his fingers trailing up as he did. Carefully, he moved your hair to the side as he fixed the necklace in place. Dipping his head down, he kissed that spot on your neck he had quickly learned turned you to putty in his hands. You leaned against him, angling your neck to give him better access as a soft moan escaped. His teeth grazed gently against your neck, he seemed to toy with the idea of making a mark before backing away. As much as he’d enjoy to see it blossom, he knew you had many first impressions to make.

You whimpered at the loss of contact. Suddenly realizing just how much you had missed him.

“I know, little one,” he sighed, pressing a kiss on the side of your ear, “but we have a night to get through. After this, I belong to you. We will have all tomorrow for each other.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

-

The dinner party was beautifully done. Of course it was. Hannibal never spared any expense, let alone when he was trying to impress. He had introduced you to a couple people, they were nice enough, but you just couldn’t find a connection with them. You definitely steered clear of Bedelia. That woman was intimidating to a whole other degree. Definitely someone you could actually see Hannibal going after. You wondered why he didn’t.

An hour into the dinner party, you slipped away. He had said you could explore and honestly, without him you weren’t much for conversation. You had already gotten a snide look for saying you worked at a bar on nights, but they didn’t hold much interest for you either. All the conversations you had heard were meaningless droning. People constantly trying to one up another or bragging about something new they acquired or some business deal.

So it was safe to say no one noticed your absence. Well maybe one extremely observant man.

You found yourself in his library, taking residence in a nook next to a window. Hannibal’s sketch book in your lap as you looked over his drawings. Each drawing looked like he must have spent hours on it. You marveled at his talent, watching the range go from almost romantic to grouesome. Some things could be recognized as his take on art pieces, and landscapes, while others seemed to be originals. The originals were darker in nature, but you supposed it made sense. He saw death as something comforting and could be considered beautiful. Of course it would translate into his pieces.

The door opened, revealing the man that occupied your thoughts at the moment. “Is everything alright, darling? No one bothered you, I hope.”

You smiled up at him. “I’m fine. I just wanted a break, I’m getting a little bit of a headache.”

“Oh?” He touched your forehead with the back of his hand, “Are you feeling well?”

“I’ll go back in a moment,” you promised himas you brought his hand down to press a peck onto it, “Go enjoy your party.”

“They can keep themselves entertained for a while.”  He took a seat next to you, pulling you to rest against him. “I could use a moment too.”

You couldn’t stave off the smile that played on your lips to get to have him to yourself. He made you feel comfortable and honestly you were out of your element at this party. Hannibal rested his head against the wall. That left his neck vulnerable and you couldn’t resist placing a kiss on it.

“Why must you insist on acting up when we are alone, darling girl?” He hummed quietly, his hand entertained itself absentmindedly drawing things on your thigh.

“I missed you,” you insisted. “Not just like that. We used to spend a lot of time together.”

“It has been a long time. I’m sorry about that.”

“I had your number too. I’m not completely out of blame.”

“Well, you’ll find a way to make it up to me.” He tugged you closer, “You’re too far.”

You straddled one of his thighs, placing your hand on his shoulders. “I’m sure you have a couple ideas of how.”

“A couple.”

Leaning in you caught him in a kiss. His hand started to trail lower, you caught him by the wrist before he got to his destination, placing his hand back on your hip. With his original plan voided, he bounced his thigh against you, the hands on your hips helping you grind down. You couldn’t help the moan you let out. Letting him continue until you remembered the party happening not so far away.

“Hannibal,” you whined against his lips, “Not right now.”

“But you sound so sweet, darling, don’t mind them.” He continued his earlier assault on your neck, this time not thinking twice before sucking his mark onto it. “You look so beautiful tonight. I know you can give me one before we’re missed, you’re always so good for me. Don’t you want to be good?”

The growing lust clouded your judgement. Hannibal’s soft words and the gentle but perfect rhythm he was working on made it hard to find any reason to argue.

“Yes, daddy,” you sighed softly, “I want to be good for you.”

The door opened again, followed by a dramatic gasp, “Hannibal, having dessert before the rest of us?” The strange man eyed you, “Plan on sharing?”

Hannibal had been quick to tug down the dress that had rode up, keeping you safe from prying eyes. “Unfortunately, I’m not one for sharing. If you don’t mind waiting in the hall. I’ll meet with you in a second.”

“Oh, I’d much prefer to stay. Hello, what’s your name? Is Hannibal keeping you entertained?”

You hid your face against Hannibal’s shoulder, your face burning to the touch.

“Shy thing isn’t she, daddy?”

“I really must insist you leave now,” Hannibal said, the anger evident in his voice.

“Fine, killjoy.” You heard retreating steps and the door closed again.

“Of course out of everyone to find us it was the gossip,” he sighed to himself, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m sorry about that, love.”

“I told you not now,” you said, pulling away and going back to your seat beside him.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought we’d have a couple more minutes before someone looked for us, let alone find us. Let me handle this and then you’ll never see him again.”

You nodded. “Can I go to the room for the night? He made me feel… strange.”

“Darling,” he cupped your cheek, a sad look in his eyes, “this is your home more than anyone else out there. Don’t let him ruin the night for us. I’ll make sure he’s gone and stay by you the rest of the night. Does that sound okay?”

And true to his word he was, he had escorted the man out quickly once he found him. However the Gossip was apparently a fast worker, because a couple people did give you lingering looks. Though they were quick to save face if they so much as thought Hannibal noticed. Whatever they thought didn’t matter. You were two grown, consenting adults that enjoyed each other’s company, be damned what others thought. Throughout the night you kept telling yourself that, hoping to cut the embarrassment short. A couple times you caught yourself, thoughtlessly intertwining your fingers with Hannibal’s when you were less than sturdy. Each time he squeezed your fingers gently, quiet reassurance that he was there for you.

-

You woke up the following morning. Hannibal was still asleep beside you, it must have been early. He looked sweet in the mornings. Relaxed, not as stiff as he usually was, his hair sticking up in places he’d immediately flatten out once he woke as he greeted you with that deeper more accented voice that accompanied the mornings. You pressed a kiss to his chest, before carefully removing the arm that was sprawled across your stomach.

Looking at the clock, you considered the time. There was enough if you worked quickly. Standing up, you grabbed one of your shirts and shorts. After freshening up, you made your way down to the kitchen.

It was different. You hadn’t toured much of the home, let alone know where anything was, but you gathered your bearings fast enough. The things you needed had been placed somewhat similarly to his old home and you set everything onto the counter. Protein scramble, fruit, and pancakes seemed like a good option today. The pancakes, he had taught you to make when you asked where the box mix was and obviously he wouldn’t stand for you not knowing how to make something so simple from scratch.

Your phone played music as you set to work, washing the used dishes along the way so there wasn’t too much of a mess.

As you were plating the food, you heard Hannibal call out your name.

“Kitchen!” You called out.

He was quick to meet you, “Darling, I could have made you breakfast. You should have stayed in bed with me.”

“I couldn’t sleep any more and you looked too sweet to wake,” you poured two cups of coffee and prepared them to both of your liking, “Figured why not play domestic for a while.”

“How did you like it?” He asked, walking over to take the cup from you.

“Eh well you know, the domestic life,” you shrugged, feeding him a cut strawberry, “I like to let my partner sleep in on Saturday’s and make them comfort breakfasts. Sometimes they ruin breakfast in bed by coming down too early, but what can you do?”

He chuckled around the bite of strawberry, “I’m sorry, beloved. I’ll stay put next time.”

“Yes, you will.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “But I’m not too angry at you. I enjoy your company.”

His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Aren’t you usually sporting my shirts on these mornings?”

“I didn’t want to ruin one of them.”

“You couldn’t ruin a thing if you tried. I’ve got more than enough for you to steal away when you go back home too.”

“I only took them, because someone made a habit of messing up my shirts.”

“And your reasoning for keeping them, little one?” He grabbed the plates, “Come along, the mornings have been wonderful recently.”

You grabbed the cups. “You should’ve come and picked them up the same way I had. It’s your own fault they aren’t back where they belong.”

The afternoon was spent in each other’s company. Hannibal had insisted he’d wash the remaining dishes and asked you to pick up his sketchbook and pencils from the library since you were going to find yourself something to read. You did as asked, before returning outside. Setting his things on the table, you went to go sit in a sunny spot of grass.

It wasn’t long until Hannibal rejoined you outside and took a seat.

You glanced up curiously after a while, he was sketching away.

“Anything I can do for you, beloved?” He asked, not looking up from his work.

“Just watching.”

He hummed in response.

Some unease settled in your stomach when you remembered why exactly you were over here. What was the harm in voicing it? “Hannibal?” You waited until he looked up at you, “You’re okay that we haven’t slept together yet? I mean… I know that’s why I am here.”

It was true, the lingering looks you had gotten at dinner, paired with the small embarrassment of realizing one of Hannibal’s love bites got to bloom in front of them all threw you off at night. You had tried to let yourself go, let him have control of you for a while, but you couldn’t go past taking off some clothes and letting your hands feel the other. He didn’t mind when you didn’t want to do more. Always the gentleman. Instead he settled you against his chest, an arm keeping you close, quiet conversation and long breathtaking kisses filled the night.

“I’m not one of those little boys you’ve found,” he stated, seeming to be mildly offended, “I enjoy our quiet moments just as much, if not more. Sex is something else we could do together, nothing more. It’s not everything, little one. You’re not here for that purpose. What I enjoy is your company and I’ll take it any way you give it.”

You tilted your head looking at him closely, he mimicked you, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. That made you laugh softly, you decided he was being honest and not covering up his disappointment with sweet words. Patting the grass next to you, “Sit with me.”

“YN…”

“Please?” You asked, sweetening the pot with a pout.

He shook his head but gathered his things, soon joining you. Resting your head on his shoulder you looked at what he was sketching. The scene was you at the present moment. Half faced toward him, book in hand, completely relaxed, and more perfect than you ever dreamed of being.

“That’s an exaggeration, I’m not that beautiful.”

“That’s where we must differ, my love,” he kissed your temple, “Try as I might I’ll never be able to draw you with the dignity you deserve. It’s a poor imitation of the way I perceive you.”

“You’re a ridiculous man,” you said fondly, “Though I suppose I’d like to keep you around a while longer.”

“Suppose” he scoffed, “ You’d be lost without me.”

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly and went back to your book.

-

“Darling, I do adore when you take care of yourself, but we’ll be late if you don’t hurry,” Hannibal said, leaning on the bathroom’s door frame already dressed for the outing.

“It’s not my fault you always manage to get the bath perfect,” you groaned, getting out of the bathtub.

Hannibal walked over, grabbing a towel on his way. “I’ll run you another later.”

You took the towel, drying yourself off. It was nice to see a rare impatient Hannibal. There was more to that calm and collected demeanor he usually had. “You’re cute when you’re excited about something. Where are we going?”

“I got us tickets to the opera.”

“Really!” You lit up at that. When he talked about the shows he had seen before, he’d get so much more animated. It would be nice to experience one with him. “Which one?”

“Die Entführung aus dem Serail,” he answered, taking you in with a smile, “but darling, your excitement may go to waste, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll be quick!”

With you keeping your promise and Hannibal’s quick driving, it didn’t take anytime to make it to the opera house. There was time to spare and Hannibal socialized a bit, introducing you to other regulars. You exchanged pleasantries and let Hannibal control the conversation as you looked around the place. Some people you recognized from last night. One person you saw nod towards you whispering something to his companion.

“I didn’t think he’d be one for cradle robbing,” you caught the man say, as he eyed you up, “Lucky man. Reckon I could steal that little piece away?”

You subtly moved closer to Hannibal, feeling the heat rise to your face.

Hannibal turned his attention to you when the others started talking amongst themselves. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, tucking away a strand of your hair that fell out of place.

“Yeah. I’m great,” you lied, knowing he’d probably take offense to any minute comment made about whatever kind of relationship the two of you had.

“Are you certain?” The tone of voice saying he knew you were hiding something. He always seemed to read you so easily. In that he knew you’d continue to deny anything. “Would you like to go to our seats now? The show should start in a couple of minutes.”

“Yes, please.”

Hannibal grabbed your hand in his, leading you away from the crowd. To your surprise he took you to a private balcony above the rest of the audience seating. “Since, it’s your first time, I figured privacy would do us well. No distractions,” he paused for a moment, “No one to get into that pretty little head of yours.”

“I just don’t enjoy all the looks and comments,” you sighed, allowing him to pull you down onto the seat with him. “I love spending time with you. It’s just soured by people that don’t mind their own.”

“It’s not ideal, but we mustn’t let them ruin our nights. With this kind of community, people make assumptions and talk. Darling, I really do insist you tell me when someone makes you upset.”

“I know, I know. Guess I should have braced for it more. I’m just not used to these kinds of things. When we’re alone it’s easy to just exist together. Just us.”

“I understand completely. However, I do enjoy that we finally got to leave the house. You look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

You smiled at that, “Well, you do seem to have an eye for what suits me.”

“That, I do.”

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you breathed the comforting scent of his cologne, “I’m sorry I let them get to me when we're supposed to be enjoying our time together. It’s not fair to you.”

“They get annoying,” he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, “Of course you’d take offense for us. There isn’t much we can do besides understand that we’re here for the right reasons. Though, it does get under my skin to see you affected so under my care.”

Soon the crowd made their way to the seats and the lights dimmed to near black. When the music started Hannibal whispered translations into your ear. You got caught up in the story between watching the characters go through their woes and Hannibal’s gentle voice guiding you through every detail. It was easy to see what Hannibal saw at these events. They really were thrilling to watch. Still it wasn’t so much the show, but getting to know another side of the man in question.

You looked at the man beside you, a happy smile plastered on your face. “Thank you for bringing me, Hannibal.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

“Your love?” You challenged teasingly.

A couple times he had thrown around the pet name. You didn’t take it for much. He was a sweet, old fashioned man, you had decided to believe. A sweet nothing that neither of you minded. Still you couldn’t deny the slight softness you felt from the moniker.

“You’ve promised yourself as all mine before,” he reminded you, “and I take no issue in claiming what’s mine.”

“That was said when I was drunk on you.”

“Deny all you’d like, sweet girl, you’re still mine.”

Hannibal tilted your head up slightly to kiss you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about why the music crescendoed in that moment. Not when he was kissing you with more passion than you had ever felt. He had a way of making it feel like you were the only beings in existence. Hannibal bit at your lip, asking for more, and you gave it to him without a thought. You’d do whatever he wanted at that moment. Still you couldn’t help grabbing his wrist when his hand found it’s way up your dress. He swallowed the helpless moan that slipped past your lips greedily.

You pulled away from him, your hips grinding onto his hand on their own accord. “Hannibal, I-“

He hushed you, “You’re missing a very important part of the show.” His hand didn’t let up from its ministrations as he continued to translate for you.

You went to cover your mouth with your hand, but Hannibal stopped you short, placing it back at your side. A quick mummer of be good was all he offered, not once stopping the pace he had set. You choked back the moan when he pressed against a spot that had been long neglected since the last time you paid him a visit. The music being so loud was your only safe haven, still, you pressed yourself further into Hannibal, hoping to hide yourself further from any wandering eyes that might look away from the show. Embarrassment and lust built with every thrust of Hannibal’s fingers. The former was getting increasingly easier to ignore as Hannibal pulled you closer and closer to your end. Pressing your face against his neck, you bit at the skin there in a cheap attempt at revenge for what he was putting you through.

Hannibal’s fingers stilled. A quiet chuckle met your ear when he heard your whimper of protest, stopping your hips as you attempted to help yourself. “Such an easy thing to toy with, you're nothing more than my own personal whore.” He didn’t miss the throb around his fingers at those words. “You’d let me use you however I’d like wouldn’t you?”

You gave a lazy nod as he brought his fingers up to your mouth. Eager to please him, hoping he’d let you finish, you opened your mouth and sucked his fingers clean. Behind your back, you felt him working himself out of his pants. Taking his hand away he adjusted your dress higher before pulling you on to his lap. With his other hand the head of his cock teased your clit, you forced yourself not to complain, knowing he’d go on longer if you did. When he finally pushed into you, you couldn’t fight off the moan of contentment as he filled you completely. Turning your head, you caught him in a languid kiss, caught up in only him despite the performance going on.

“Please?”

“What do you need?”

“You.” You shifted your hips slightly, “May I please move?”

“I’m sorry, little one,” you caught the slight upward twitch of his lip when you looked at him in disbelief, “I’d rather use you at my leisure.”

You whined in frustration, leaning against him knowing he’d play a cruel game. This time he offered no translations, keeping you entirely focused on the feeling of him buried deep inside of you doing nothing to help relieve your need for him. When you did manage to distract yourself, he circled your clit and gave a few sharp thrust, just enough to bring you back where he wanted you. His hand continued, changing the rhythm every so often so you’d stay aware of your position.

“I’ll be so good,” you begged helplessly.

“And yesterday you had been so against it despite having our privacy in the library,” he reminded you, pushing in and out of you in a too slow pace, but at least he was moving, “What was it that was missing, hm? The audience that could look up and see me using what’s mine?”

You didn’t know what had changed. Not truely. Maybe it was the couple of glasses of wine you had drunk throughout the day. Perhaps it was just finally getting what you had wanted for so long. Honestly, you couldn’t find yourself to be curious enough to find out.

“I wanna cum,” you told him, swallowing the embarrassment.

“I don’t know, darling, you’ve tried to find comfort with others. I really can’t say I approve of the notion. Suppose, I could just use you for your worth and leave you dry.” He groaned into your ear as you clenched around him, he sped up his thrust, “There’s my good girl, you like the sound of that?”

“Hannibal, please,” you whimpered, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Beg for it.”

“I’ll never look for anyone else again. It was so stupid to think anyone else could make me feel as good as you.” Your breath hitched when he struck deeper, “I've been so desperate for you.”

“That’s all so very sweet, but that’s not exactly what I want to hear.”

You whined quietly as you tried to figure out the right combination of words to get you what you wanted. “I’m just yours… No one else’s… You’re the only one, I’m so sorry…”

“See? Was it so hard to apologize for your misconduct?”

You shook your head.

He pinched your thigh. “Words, darling.”

“No, daddy,” you moaned, as his hands guided your hips to move with him, “But I’ll be good for you now.”

“I still don’t think you deserve to cum, you pathetic thing.”

“You’ll let me?”

Hannibal’s hand grabbed your jaw roughly, making you look at him. “Next time I won’t be so generous. Understood?”

You swallowed down the slight twinge of fear that had worked its way into your system. “Yes, sir.”

He pushed your face away. “Work for it yourself.”

Tag list: @charc0al-grey @songofcosplay

[familyfriendlyweed]

makeup sessions (karl jacobs x fem reader)

a/n : hi! this is my first tumblr post. i have written stuff on wattpad in the past, but it’s still quite new to me, so please be nice :]] i accept positive critism and advice, as that most definitely will help me grow as a writer!

 Y/n let out something between a squeal and a scream at the same time when she saw Karl's tweet. her face was beat red and her lips couldn't help but curl into the stupidest grin ever.

the tweet read :

hey @) y/nhasursocks wanna do my makeup at my stream today :]]

 it was the simplest tweet, yet it meant so much to the girl. Karl and Y/n were always really good friends, they often streamed minecraft together, but never in a million years did he yet ask her to be in his stream in real life.

 Y/n picked up the phone with trembling hands, already seeing a bunch of likes, comments and retweets to Karl's tweet. before answering, she got curious to know what the people say. cautiously opening the comments section, the girl scanned it through with her eyes. a bunch of "awwwwws" and hearts could be seen, which worsened her already red cheeks.

With her heart thumping hard against her ribs, she started writing her reply :

sounds great! <3

 for a moment Y/n hesitated to press the "reply" button with the "<3" emoticon in the comment, but then she figured she and Karl sent lovey dovey emojis/emoticons in the past to each other anyways, so, she pressed the "reply" button at last.

 in an instant, her reply started gaining more and more likes, comments and retweets. Y/n was never really popular, having her clout was only because of Karl being her friend, so seeing this much attention was weird to her. but she didn't care about that right now. all that Y/n cared about at the moment was the fact that Karl appreciated her enough to actually invite her over.

 a little bit later in the day, Y/n received a private message from Karl, which said :

hey Y/n! I'm really glad you're up to stream together <3 i planned on starting the stream at 4 pm, but you can change the time if you're busy :] here is my address (don't tell anyone! :D) - (random address lol)

 Y/n answered :

 thanks for inviting me bestie!! 4 pm is cool, I'll be there! <33

 she set the phone down, unable to remove the blissful smile from her face. she has never felt this way before - it was really weird, but the constant butterflies in her tummy reminded her that it's a good feeling. taking a few deep breaths, Y/n reminded to herself that all she has to do is to go to Karl's house and have a good time AS FRIENDS - no romantic stuff is needed.

  ~~~~~time skip~~~~~

  Y/n got off from the bus at 15:50, but she still had about 5 minutes to reach Karl's house. in what felt like forever, the girl felt a sting of what was unmistakably fear and guilt - what if she was late? and what if Karl would be annoyed with her for that?

 slowly she broke into a panicky run. passing careless citizens, who all looked at her fear-stricken face curiously, she finally made it to the front door of Karl's home. Y/n pulled out her phone and found the code that she was supposed to enter next the main door. she quickly dialed it, a beep beep beep was heard and she entered.  

 finally making it to Karl's apartment, Y/n stopped to smooth her hair and straighten her clothes so she doesn't look too shabby. her body seemed to be moving on its own - her finger pressed the doorbell automatically.

 Karl opened the door almost in an instant - he wore a warm smile and before Y/n could stutter a "hello", he pulled the girl into a big welcoming hug.

 "hey Y/n! it's so cool you made it!" Karl exclaimed, still holding her close.

Y/n's head was spinning, she needed more time to process what was happening. but nevertheless, she finally lifted her own arms and hugged the guy. burying her face into his sweater, she inhaled Karl's scent deeply - he smelled something like honey and warm days.

"hello, Karl." she mumbled with a grin on her face.

"come on, do you want to eat something before the stream?" Karl asked, letting go of the girl and taking her hand into his instead, leading Y/n into the house.

"oh no, I'm full. let's get straight to business." she answered, the blissful smile and content blush never leaving her face.

"alrighty! you already know, but we'll have an eventful makeup session, and then I thought maybe play some minecraft so the stream isn't too short?" the guy asked, opening his bedroom door.

"sounds great!"

Karl smiled and went to his computer :

"you ready? I'll start the stream now."

the girl quickly fixed her hair again and gave him thumbs up :

"ready."

Karl started the stream with facecam on and as soon as the chat saw Y/n, it went absolutely wild.

"guys, give her a rest, poor girl just came!" he laughed, drawing her a chair. Y/n thanked quietly and sat, waving to the chat timidly. in the corner of her eye, she saw comments like "she's so adorable" and "look at Karl being a gentleman" in the chat and her cheeks grew more red, but this time from satisfaction.

"well, as you guys know, Y/n agreed to be in my stream today, and since some of you don't really know her, she's a really good friend of mine who also streams and does youtube videos - so go support her!"

from that moment Y/n relaxed more and more with each minute. it was fifteen minutes into the stream when she already felt as if at home.

"Karl, you have a hell lot of lipsticks, where did that come from?"

"uhhhh, I only bought them for the stream today!"

"oh really? why are they all used, then?" Y/n asked giggling and showing them to the stream.

"hey- don't expose me like that!"

"chat, clip it, CLIP IT!"

all was going really well, Y/n was having a really good time with Karl AS FRIENDS. it was really nice. but all hell broke loose when the time to put eyeliner came.

"alright, I have no idea why, but you have four eyeliners."

"they're my sister's."

"haha, yeah, yeah, alright. Which one do you want big man?"

"hmmm, the one in your left hand!"

Y/n set the other eyeliners on the table, quickly glancing at the chat. her cheeks grew very very red…

"Y/N DO THE MEME SIT ON HIS LAP" "SIT ON HIS LAP" "THE MEME, DO THE MEME!!!"

  a/n: if anyone is confused, this is an example of the meme i’m talking about :

the girl tried to act as if she hadn't seen the comments, but Karl was already by her side, reading them with her.

"meme… what meme?" he wondered out loud. Y/n got the impression that he was genuinely confused.

'chat, shut the fuck up, please shut the fuck up.' thought Y/n, but of course chat was just being chat.

"SHE SHOULD SIT ON UR LAP" "THERE'S A MEME WHERE A GIRL DOES A GUY'S EYELINER WHILE SITTING ON HIS LAP" "WE'RE NOT FORCING BUT YOU GUYS WOULD LOOK SO CUTE"

Y/n hid her face in her hands, unable to control her blushing. Karl just chuckled sweetly :

"chat, calm down, she's going to die from blushing."

he put on the "please stand by" screen and scooted over Y/n :

"hey, it's fine. we won't do it if you don't want to," Karl then leaned closer and whispered, "I'd be pretty glad if you agreed, though."

Y/n lowered her hands, showing off the big red hue on her cheeks. for a split second Karl's eyes widened -  she looked really adorable.

"I'd also be glad." the girl said, almost not believing her own words.

Karl's adorable smile came back and he leaned back:

"well then, come here."

Y/n stood up shyly and straddled his legs, grabbing the eyeliner in the process.

"do you want me to turn on the facecam?" Karl asked quietly.

the girl nodded :

"I don't mind."

he turned it on and put his hands onto Y/n's hips. even without looking at it, Y/n knew the chat was blowing up at the moment.

"you guys better subscribe, because we're providing very good fanservice." said Karl jokingly and Y/n laughed. turning to him, she opened the eyeliner and put it next to his eye, only to find him staring at her in an awe. the girl blushed as a strong urge to kiss him kicked in. it looked as if Karl wanted the same thing.

at the precise same time, they both leaned in and pressed their lips together, Y/n putting her hands onto Karl's cheeks to hide the view from the chat. the kiss was very short and with no tongue included - but it was the most sweet kiss Y/n has ever shared with someone. she pulled away, an identical grin to Karl's on her face and hugged him very tight - they almost fell off the chair.

laughing, she continued to do Karl's makeup as if nothing happened and everyone watching the stream wasn't fainting and clipping the kiss. this will be talked about for a long time, but as before, Y/n didn't care about that, and nor did Karl.

a/n : anddddd cut! it’s quite wonky, but i believe it’s pretty swell for my first mcyt fanfic :]] let me know what you think of it and if you have any tips or advice on how to make my future stories more enjoyable! thanks for reading and i hope to see you around <3

[onceupon]

London Boy - Part 3: I like girls that dance

summary: It’s your first night out and your first real introduction to Westheath. Rafe is quick to find his way on your radar.

pairing: Rafe x reader (slowburn)

warnings: swearing, drinking

word count: 4.6k

a/n: the way I’m imagining Jack Harlow as I write Liam 😩✋also, im pulling these chapter titles out of my ass - but actually tho, go listen to Girls That Dance by Masego 

Part 1 Part 2

Despite your doubts, you put on the sheer top and the black mini skirt Millie and Olivia had insisted you wear. Your favorite pregame playlist plays as you do your makeup in the mirror. You move as quickly as you can, in desperate need of a shot to calm your nerves before your flat fills with people. You’re also nervous about seeing Rafe after that encounter in the kitchen you just had. 

As you run your fingers through your hair and put on your earrings, all you can see is his stupid (and annoyingly attractive) face, staring down at you with that dumb backwards cap, telling you that you guys should watch Game of Thrones together. Every time your mind starts to think if that means something, you quickly shut down the thought. Of course it doesn’t mean anything. Just because a boy wants to watch a show with you does not automatically mean he wants you or that this was going to turn into some kind of Netflix and chill situation. Or was this gonna be a Netflix and chill situation? I mean it was Rafe Cameron after all, the boy certainly had a reputation. But then again, hadn’t he just showed you that he’s different from what you had expected? Oh god this was all too much to think about right now, you needed a shot. Stat. 

“Y/N!” Olivia shouts, swinging the door to your room open right on cue. “Oh. My. God. You look so hot!” she exclaims. “Here, this is for you,” she extends a shot glass toward you with a devilish grin. 

“Oh god what is it,” you grimace. Shots always seemed like a better idea in theory than in practice. 

“Try it and find out,” she smirks. You sigh and send the liquid to the back of your throat, immediately cringing at the sting of raspberry vodka, Olivia bringing a cup of cranberry juice to your mouth to chase. 

“Don’t worry love, a few more and you won’t even taste it. Now come on,” she laughs, dragging you with her to the kitchen. The rest of your flatmates are already there, Millie bopping along to the music, giggling at whatever Topper is saying, Rafe standing close by sipping his drink. 

“Y/n you hottie!” Millie cheers, looking up as you make your way into the kitchen. You pray to god your cheeks aren’t turning pink. You don’t dare turn your head, but you know Rafe is staring at you. If you looked at him now you’d be crimson for sure. 

“Alright everybodyyy,” Olivia begins, pouring the same raspberry vodka into the five shot glasses she has lined up on the table. You can’t help but laugh at her infectious energy, this girl is nothing if not the life of the party. 

“Cheers to our first night out as flat mates! Wooo!!!” she exclaims, as everyone grabs a shot glass from the table, Rafe instinctively passing you one, hands briefly touching during the exchange and again as you all clink your glasses. You down the contents, unsure if the heat forming in your chest is from the vodka or the feeling of Rafe’s passing touch. 

Pretty soon people start to arrive, Olivia and Millie making sure to introduce everyone. The flat becomes a blur of bodies drinking, dancing, and mingling about, and somehow, despite it all, Rafe Cameron is the person you find yourself standing with. There was something magnetic about him that you couldn’t quite understand, but it kept drawing you near. 

“What are you drinking tonight Cameron,” you nod at the cup in his hand.

“Jack and coke. Of course,” he scoffs with subtle sarcasm, which you instantly pick up on. 

“Not straight whiskey? Wow. That’s not very Figure 8 of you,” you admonish playfully.

“Straight whiskey? L/n who do you think I am?” he twists his face in mock disbelief. “But I’m game to do a shot if you are,” he adds.

“Hmm that does-“ you begin, but you’re quickly cutoff. 

“Y/n, babe, if I had known you’d be here I would’ve came sooner,” Liam greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a cheeky smile. 

“Now how on earth do you two know each other,” Millie asks, walking in line with the boy.

“Umm,” you chuckle nervously. You could not have possibly felt more awkward at the conversation unfolding in front of you, Rafe standing by as witness to it all. “He’s that boy I went to the bar with the other night,” you explain sheepishly.

“That was Liam!? Chrissake. Well I apologize on his behalf for anything he said or did.”

“Hey I’ll have you know I’m a proper gentleman!” he defends, throwing you a wink as Millie rolls her eyes. Just at that moment, another group of people walk in through the door, conveniently coming to Rafe’s rescue.

“Rafe!” a girl calls and he clears his throat excusing himself, Millie following suit to greet the latest batch of guests. You watch as he leans in for a hug with the girl who’s just called his name. She’s twirling her hair and batting her eyes, confident, flirty, gorgeous - just his type. A sick feeling pools in your stomach, you don’t even realize you’re staring. 

“Lily Colts, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Liam informs you as he takes the now empty spot next to you.

“Oh, um no, I was just uh-“

“It’s okay Y/n, I get it. So flatmate huh” he laughs, unbothered.

“No no it’s not like that at all I uh-”

“Alright. Y/n,” he says, jumping up to sit on the counter behind him, cracking open the can in his hand. “You know I think you’re hot and you know I like messing with you-”

“Actually I know neither of those things,” you reply indignantly. 

“Yes you do, you’re not dim,” he bulldozes right on, “I can read people pretty well, and there was a vibe there.”

“A vibe?”

“Yeah. Between you and what’s-his-face. You should’ve seen the way he tensed up when I came up to you,” he snickers in amusement.

“Shut up. His name is Rafe, by the way, and there was no ‘vibe.’ Also why are you even telling me this?” you ask, growing frustrated with the cocky brunette.

“Y/n please,” he scoffs. “I told you I can read people, so let me read you. You’re out here in London right, far away from home, keen for a fresh start. You’ve never been one for meaningless flings, but fuck it, if everyone else can do it, why not you? Or so you try to convince yourself, but you know that’s not you. See, you crave that emotional connection, and when you find even a hint of it, you’re a goner. Which is why you’d never actually hook up with me and it’s why you’re staring at that boy from home even though you swear you don’t care, but you do - you feel something there.”

You’re dumbfounded by his ability to know things about you that even you yourself can’t recognize. “I liked it better when you were just flirting with me,” you grumble.  

“No worries darling, I’ll definitely still do that. I’ll even dance on you in the club if you ask nicely, might make pretty boy over there jealous,” he motions with his eyes toward Rafe, at which you give his shoulder a shove.

“You’re an idiot you know, Millie was right on the money with that,” you quip, as the two of you head over to her, Liv, and the boys.

“Please, Millie wishes she could be right on something else,” he says as you shoot him a glare, trying your best to suppress a laugh. Liam was starting to become a pain in your ass, too smart for his own good, but at least he was a funny one.

—

Your first night clubbing was going great. The place was packed, the music was good, and you were having a blast dancing with Liv, Millie, and their friends. You couldn’t help looking around the club though, eyes scanning for Rafe in the crowd. He’d been hanging out all night with Topper and some of the guys from their new soccer team. You longed to be near him somehow, to interact with him again. All your conversations with him earlier today had left you with an excited buzz - you didn’t know what it was about this version of Rafe Cameron in London, but you were actually enjoying his company.

You try to push him out of your mind and just enjoy the moment. It’s not like there was anything between you and Rafe, you had just barely began to form a semblance of a potential friendship today, let’s not get carried away. Besides, you live with the boy, accidentally running into him wasn’t going to be much of a challenge. 

“Anyone want anything from the bar?” you shout over the music to your friends.

“Vodka soda with lime please!” Olivia shouts back and you nod, turning to make your way to the counter a few feet away. You place your order and mindlessly tap your fingers on the bar as a figure appears beside you.

“Hey, Y/n right? Flatmates with Olivia, Mills, and the boys?” the girl asks, and you turn, now face to face with Lily. 

“Uh yeah, hey,” you feign a smile back. 

“I’m Lily, nice to meet you,” she smiles genuinely. “I’m friends with all the Westheath bozos you’ve probably been meeting tonight,” she laughs, “Callum and Henry over there are my best mates. They’re on the football team with Rafe and Topper, we were showing them around earlier. My god you guys have been hoarding some cute ones over there in America.”

You chuckle, “glad that Kildare’s presence can at least be of some benefit.” 

“So, girl to girl here, what can you tell me about Rafe Cameron? He’s such a hottie isn’t he? Would love to get a taste of that,” she smirks, licking her lips.

“Umm I don’t really have much to tell,” you say, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. You could tell her what you thought you knew of Outer Banks Rafe - he’s a rich, party-boy player. But after today, that no longer felt right. You didn’t want to say or presume anything about him at all actually, it felt wrong to talk about him like that. God, what the hell was wrong with you? You spend a few hours with the boy and you already have a soft spot for him? You needed to get a grip. “Our families know each other but we don’t really hang out at home. He’s uh- he’s cool though,” you decide as a sufficient response.

“Any girl friend?” she asks, sliding cash over to the bartender as she orders a shot.

“Rafe’s not really the ‘girlfriend-type’,” you answer, bartender sliding you the drinks you ordered and Lily her’s. 

“Well then cheers to that,” she grins, clinking her shot glass to your drink before she downs it, waving a quick goodbye. You watch as she makes her way back to Rafe and their group, adorning a flirty smile. You feel sick to your stomach. You wanted to hate her, you did. But you couldn’t. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was just confident, outgoing, and not afraid to go after what she wanted. There was nothing for you to be angry about, who was stopping you from doing the same?

 But in the back of your mind you decided you could never go after Rafe like that. He would never be interested in you in that way, you were sure of it. You had a hard time believing your friends when they hyped you up, so you definitely weren’t going to believe for a single second that a boy you thought was cool could possibly look at you in the same way. Besides, the mere idea of being rejected by Rafe Cameron, and then having to continue living with him and eventually go back to the Outer Banks for everyone to find out you had been rejected by the kook prince, was so mortifying that the very thought made you want to crawl into a hole. So you promise yourself, right then and there, that you won’t let yourself get hurt like that. You could hang out with Rafe, get to know him, become friends even, but under no circumstances could you be caught wearing your heart on your sleeve. You couldn’t disarm yourself like that and give him the upper hand. You needed to look out for yourself first and foremost, preserving the little bit of control you still had over your life. 

You walk back over to your friends, slipping Liv her drink as her and Jake dance together. Your new friends are all tipsy and in a world of their own, getting lost in the music and their movements.

“Dance with me,” you turn to Liam who’s right beside you.

“I said if you ask nicely,” he admonishes sarcastically, to which you roll your eyes.

“I’m not gonna beg Liam. You wanna dance or not?”

“Sheesh, Lily Colts got your panties in a twist like that?”

“Not. At. All.” You confidently stare into his eyes, sipping your drink. It’s no use, Liam knows you all too well by now, and you curse yourself for the way in which this boy is able to see right through all the walls you put up. You may think these walls are made of brick, but to Liam they’re glass.

He just laughs at you, shaking his head in amusement. He grabs your free hand and pulls you closer to him, your bodies now pressed together. He takes your hand and rests it on the back of his neck, his finding their way to your hips. He plants his leg in between yours and soon you guys are lost in the rhythm. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every second. He spins you around and you lightly grind your ass against him.

“Damn Y/n, I didn’t know you move like that,” he jokes, as you face forward again. He leans in, his hand on the small of your back, and you feel his breath right against your ear, “he’s looking by the way.” Your breath hitches, but you know better than to turn around. Liam is already one step ahead of you, instinctively twirling you again so you can quickly catch a glimpse of Rafe’s eyes on yours without it being obvious. “Told you he’d be jealous,” he smirks down at you triumphantly.

“Shut up,” you reply, the slightest smile tugging at your lips as your sweaty bodies continue to move to the music.

—-

“Aw flatmate bonding you guysss,” Olivia gushes, as you all sit together at a booth. She had forced you all out of your beds this morning to get breakfast together. Despite being hungover and groggy, you all reluctantly agreed. “Mimosas anyone?” she jokes.

“If I so much as smell any alcohol I think I’ll vomit,” Topper groans.

“Aw, what’s the matter, can’t handle your liquor Tops?” Millie asks, quirking her head to the side.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Could ask you the same question. My room is right next to the bathroom, don’t think I didn’t hear your retching last night,” he snaps back, to which Millie turns bright red and soon you’re all hunched over in laughter.

“I think a mimosa would make me yak right now too, to be fair. Coffees all around!” Olivia asserts.

You’re seated across from Rafe as you both scan your menus, your eyes immediately fixing in on the pancakes. The waiter comes by to take all your orders and you can’t help but blush a little when Rafe orders pancakes and you have to follow with a “same for me.” Such a silly, meaningless thing, I mean everyone likes pancakes. But being the only one to have the same exact order as Rafe leaves you feeling embarrassed, for no good reason all the same. You all begin to scarf down your food as soon as it arrives, thankful to have something to soak up the alcohol in your stomachs, as you share stories and laugh about last night’s drunken antics. 

“So how is it that we’re all flatmates and yet I only have Topper’s contact. Come on, add ‘em in,” Rafe says, sliding his unlocked phone to the middle of the table.

“Wait I want snapchats too. Oooh! And instagram!” Olivia pipes, whipping out her phone as well.

“I expect no booty calls Cameron. This is strictly business,” Millie jokes, typing in her and Olivia’s numbers before passing his phone to you. 

“Am I allowed a booty call?” Topper smirks, extending his phone as well.

“I wouldn’t push your luck Thornton,” she smirks back and he pouts in response. You finish typing your name and number into Rafe’s phone and hand it back to him, skin briefly making contact once again. Even though you had known Rafe all your life, somehow you two never had a reason to exchange numbers, only following each other on Instagram which he never posted on anyways.

“Alright everyone, pull up your snapchat codes, I wanna make a group,” Olivia says and everyone obliges, arms crossing every which way as you all add each other. “What should we name our group chat? Ooo can we do a ship name of our schools - like Kilheath or Westare?” 

“I like Kilheath,” Topper chimes in.

“Yeah I bet you do you psychopath. Sounds like the name of a bad horror movie,” Rafe laughs.

“Oooo there’s five of us, we could be the Spice Girls,” Millie beams.

“No.” Topper immediately shuts her down. 

“What about ‘American Boys and Spice Girls.’ You know, like the Kanye West song,” you add.

“Ehh, we’re getting closer, but not quite there,” Rafe teases you and you playfully kick him under the table. “I’m hearing a lot of opinions and not a lot of contributions,” you cross your arms and raise your brows.

“Hey hey hey, I’m a critic, not a chef L/n,” he lifts his hands in surrender.

“Ooo I got it! We can call it the ‘Royal fam,’ like the royal family,” Olivia suggests, finally getting approval from the whole group. Breakfast is soon over and you all return to your rooms, eager to nap away the remainder of your hangovers. You lay in your bed and stare at the newly formed snapchat group on your phone. Royal Fam 🇬🇧🇺🇸 appears on top and you scroll down, looking at Rafe’s username and bitmoji on your screen. You laugh at the fact that even his bitmoji wears a backwards cap. It was weird, having him in your phone like this. You had known this boy your whole life, but you two had always operated in separate spheres. And here he was, in your Snapchat, a glimpse into the life of Rafe, of which you only ever got a birds eye view of back home. It almost felt like you were trespassing somewhere you didn’t belong, having access to him like this. You sigh and lock your phone. Rafe Cameron really isn’t all that bad.

—

The next few days fly by fast as you become acclimated to Westheath. You and the rest of the Kildare kids attend an orientation with Westheath’s exchange advisor, spending the whole time with your little trio: you, Rafe, and Topper. When you had first arrived abroad, you were deadset on forging your own path in London and steering clear of everyone else from OBX. But hanging out with Rafe and Topper made you all but forget. It was fun and easy hanging out with them, in fact, counterintuitively, they were helping you forget all about the Outer Banks, just as you had hoped to do. Your conversations centered around your interests, your new lives, on random jokes and made up bits. It was almost as if there was a mutual unspoken agreement between you, them also trying to escape and forget their lives in OBX.

Pretty soon classes began, and you were learning a new schedule and adapting to British schooling. Your evenings were spent singing and dancing in the kitchen as you, Liv, and Millie simultaneously cooked your dinners, getting pints at the pub around the corner with your Westheath friends, and playing card games at the kitchen table with Rafe and Topper, the smack talk between you three flowing strong. There’d be short moments where you’d find yourself alone with Rafe - he’d explain to you whatever Premier League team was playing that day, you’d show him how the coffee machine works, and the occasional passing comments of “so when are we finally starting Game of Thrones, Cameron?” “I’m ready whenever you are, L/n.”

—

It was a Wednesday night, and you were curled up in your fluffy gray blanket watching Gilmore Girls in bed. You found the show comforting and familiar, the small town of Stars Hallow reminding you of what you wished your life in the Outer Banks could be like. Instead it was more like the cold and pretentious atmosphere of Chilton and the older Gilmores’ Hartford life. Your phone buzzes, and you pick it up lazily to check, suddenly freezing at the notification on your screen.

Snapchat: Rafe Cameron

You had opened a few snapchats from the boy over the past few days, but they were always random ones he would send to the group chat. This one was just for you. You gulp and put your phone down, not wanting to open it too fast. A few minutes go by and you realize you haven’t paid an ounce of attention to the show on your screen, even though you’re staring right at it. Fuck it. You open your phone and tap on the unread snap.

When are we watching Game of Thrones L/n the snapchat says, a picture of his laptop on his bed and the HBO Max home page open, the series featured in the corner of the screen.

You snap back a picture of your blanket and the laptop playing Gilmore Girls in front of you: ready whenever you are Cameron.

Almost immediately you get a response back.

Rafe Cameron: wait are you home rn? His message is accompanied by a random picture of his room, a view you let your eyes linger on until the message expires. Another peak into Rafe Cameron’s world.

Y/n: Yep! You send a blurry selfie of you wrapped in your blanket.

Rafe Cameron: be over in 5

You leave that last message on open and your heart starts to race. Just breathe Y/n, breathe, you keep telling yourself. It doesn’t have to be a big deal if you don’t make it out to be. It’s just a show. Just a show. And besides, you guys are friends now, right? You sit up in your bed and grab your pillow, shifting over to sit horizontally on your mattress. That seems more casual to you, more ‘just a couple friends watching a show together at a comfortable distance’ and less ‘sitting right on top of each other Netflix and chill’. You gulp down some water to ease your dry throat when you hear a gentle knock.

“Come in!” you call out, and now Rafe Cameron is in your room, eyes absorbing all the details that are so you. The posters on one wall, film camera photos on another. The string lights which wrap around your room and give it a warm glow. The plants, the subtle scent of vanilla. The bag you always carried with you, hanging off the side of your chair. He almost felt like he was intruding, like he was getting an intimate glimpse of something that was for your eyes only. 

“Whats up,” he says, holding his laptop and closing the door behind him. 

“Ready to finally start the show,” you laugh, “it’s about damn time.”

“Hey, I’ve been ready, it’s you who’s been taking your sweet time.”

“Is that so?” you ask sarcastically and a smile forms on his face.

“What are you doing over there? Who sits like that on their bed?” he asks, now coming over and taking a seat on your mattress facing vertically, propping your other pillow behind his back. “Can’t even stretch out your legs or anything,” he continues, patting the spot on the bed next to him, signaling for you to come over.

“I don’t know, I think it’s comfy,” you lie as you crawl over to him, your first line of defense already shot down. 

“Weirdo,” he chuckles to which you nudge him in the side with your elbow. “If Topper’s wrong about this I’m gonna give him so much shit,” he says.

“Topper does have a lot of questionable opinions,” you laugh, “but I have a good feeling about this one.

—

One episode turned into two turned into three, you and Rafe instantly hooked. The nerves you had felt earlier at sitting so close next to this boy in your bed had all but dissipated, you quickly acclimating to the space he took up next to you. Even though by now all your previous misconceptions about Rafe had disappeared, replaced with the boy you had come to know over the past week, there was a small part of you that was still waiting to see if he’d try to pull something on you, like the Rafe you imagined back home surely would. Of course he didn’t, watching and discussing the show with you, making you feel as comfortable as if you two had been friends for years. You almost felt bad for having had doubted him in the first place.

When the third episode ended and you two got into a long post-episode discussion, you hardly noticed when the conversation began to digress. You both started to sink lower and lower down into your pillows, until you were both laying on your backs, staring at the ceiling and lost in exchanges of words and thoughts. The conversation was different this time, more candid and open, as if the shadow of the night was inviting you to divulge thoughts you wouldn’t have shared in the day. He spoke of his strained relationship with his father and you shared the silly drama that had caused a riff between you and your former friends back home. He showed you pictures of his dog and you showed him the video you had been working on all summer long in OBX, not having anyone to hang out with before you left for London. He talked about how he felt so disconnected from almost everyone on that island, and you nodded, understanding all too well. The conversation continued to ebb and flow, the occasional funny video or meme pulling you two into fits of laughter before seamlessly delving into another vulnerable train of thought. You both had your Spotify accounts open now, taking turns sharing your favorite songs. You put on a playlist you had made over the summer, full of songs that made you feel at peace. 

“This puts you at ease huh,” he says.

You turn your head to look at him, “how could you tell?”

“I don’t know. I guess just the way your whole body relaxed the second you pressed play,” he replies.

“Yeah,” you say turning your head back toward the ceiling. “I know it sounds cheesy, but I feel like these songs are speaking to my soul or something,” you whisper.

“Yeah I get that… I have those too,” he whispers back. Neither of you realize it’s already 5 am and neither of you notice as your eyes both get heavy and sleep washes over you, playlist in the background like a lullaby. And at some point during your deep sleep, Rafe’s arm has found itself unconsciously wrapped around you.

---

Part 4

a/n: lemme know what you think!(:

[mischievoushiddleston]

Hard to Get

Plot: Being the host of the Golden Globes has some very attractive advantages, or rather a very attractive advantage on two legs ... and the after party is not bad either...

Warnings: Public Fingering, Sex in Bathroom, light Dub-Con, but not really

Words: 1.4 K

Masterlist here!

"A big round of applause please!" Y/N shouted into their microphones as the actress left the stage with her Golden Globe and the room applauded. "Wasn't her dress wonderful, Tom?"

"Not quite as wonderful as your dress looks on you, you drive me and the male world crazy with that slit down your leg." Said Tom and the audience laughed out loud. It wasn't the first time he flirted with her during the evening, but to anyone watching it just seemed like normal conversation.

"Tom...I'm blushing already..." Y/N pretended to look away from him shyly.

"That color suits you." He smiled and walked around her. The audience didn't notice how he gently caressed her waist with his hand and leaned towards her ear. "It would look especially nice on my bed with you moaning my name and my cock inside you." Her breath caught at Thom's words and her cheek was already flaming. Although he had already flirted with her, this was the first time he had spoken to her like this. "Thank you for this wonderful evening, ladies and gentlemen. See you at the after party." Tom winked at the audience, but Y/N had a hunch that the wink was meant for her. She quickly tried to leave the stage without drawing attention to herself. The stage assistant followed her and gave her a bottle of water. She looked at herself in the mirror, her cheeks visibly flushed, despite the makeup.

Y/N closed her eyes and tried to clear her head. What is this man doing to her? She was an independent woman, successful as an actress and in her life. But just a look or a cheeky comment from him was enough to tear her world apart at the seams.

"Are you okay?" She startled out of her thoughts, and with a glance in the mirror, she realized that Tom was standing less than a foot behind her.

"Um...yeah." She said, trying to sound normal.                                                      "You were off the stage so quickly." Tom looked concerned for her."I was a little warm, that's all." She turned and leaned against the table as Tom walked closer to her, smiling mischievously.

"I certainly hope my words didn't do that." He gently stroked her bare upper arms and a shiver ran down her spine. "Although I must confess I meant every word I said, you completely naked on my varnishes. I would enjoy it and I'm sure for you I would always have time to see you on my bed."

"Tom. Please, let's keep this professional."

"Then tell me you don't want this, that you don't want me." Tom leaned closer to her, his lips inches from hers.

"The after-party starts in half an hour." Said the assistant as she hurried around the corner, staring at her clipboard. Tom instantly moved away from her as if nothing had happened between Y/N and him moments before.

"Thanks, we'll be there in half an hour." Tom stated politely. She pushed herself away from the table and went to the assistant to create space between him.

"I'm already ready." The assistant nodded and began to walk away. Y/N followed her and looked over her shoulder one last time, Tom was looking the other way, his hands were braced on his hips and his jaw was tense. He seemed visibly upset at the interruption. It was a short time later when Y/N arrived at the party and it was already in full swing. She looked around and was relieved not to see Tom in the crowd, she didn't think she would be able to resist him again if she met him again tonight. As one of the waiters passed her, she grabbed a glass of the champagne and drank it down in one gulp.

"Are you trying to get drunk?" Y/N's body froze when she heard his voice beside her.

"No." She replied curtly, trying not to look at him as he moved to stand in front of her. She regretted standing in a corner now, but she had hoped not to run into Tom that way. But that now proved to be ineffective. He leaned his arms against the wall right next to her head.

"Look at me, Y/N, please." He asked her gently. She looked up at him and immediately regretted complying with his request. "That's better. Why are you hiding from me?"

"I'm not hiding from you." She stuttered, her determination to resist Tom beginning to waver.

"No? Yet you act as if you don't want me." One of his fingers stroked her collarbone seductively and a smile formed on his lips. "Yet we both know the truth, you want me to fuck you until you only know my name."

Y/N looked away from him shyly. "You want me to use you in every way you can imagine. I want to take you out of your shell. I know you crave my cock in your pussy. If I let my hand wander into the slit of your dress right now, would you be wet for me?" As he said this, his hand moved down into the slit.

Tom didn't wait for her permission, he didn't need to, because even if Y/N didn't admit it she craved him. He kissed her neck and groaned when he noticed she wasn't wearing panties. "No panties? You were just waiting for that, weren't you?"

She couldn't hold back a soft moan as he rubbed his index finger over her wet pussy. "Tom please..." Y/N moaned, but she wasn't clear if she wanted him to stop or if she wanted him to continue. He pushed a finger into her pussy and began thrusting into her. She began to moan and Tom quickly put his hand over her mouth.

"We don't want anyone else to hear what's just for me, do we?" He added another finger and began to fuck her faster with his fingers, his thumb began to rub her clit. His lips were on her neck and no one could see his hand on her mouth and his body was blocking anyone who passed by, it just looked like they were kissing. Y/N's pussy grew wetter with that thought. As she tightened around his fingers, he knew she was about to come. Tom pulled his fingers out of her and licked his fingers with a grin. She had her eyes closed and he looked around, no one seemed to have noticed the two of them.

His arm wrapped around her waist and he pulled her with him down a thin, dark hallway. He opened a door and entered the bathroom with her, closing the door behind him. Tom gently pushed her toward the sink and Y/N held onto it with her hands. She looked in the mirror and met his dark gaze. He slid her dress over her waist and she heard the metallic sound of his belt.

The tip pressed against the wet entrance of her pussy. "Are you on the pill?"

Y/N nodded slightly and Tom thrust his whole cock into her in one hard, fast thrust. "Oh God...Tom." She moaned loudly and her grip on the sink tightened.

"You're really tight around my cock." After a few moments, he began thrusting into her. She leaned on the sink with her forearms as he quickly began thrusting into her. Her body thrust forward a little from the force of his thrusts. "Do you know how long I've longed for you? God...Yet you were always too shy to even exchange a word with me." He took her hips in his hands and pulled her against him, in sync with his thrusts against her. Her back arched and her moans filled the small bathroom.

"Tom...Ah..."

"I was actually going to be shooting a new movie in Los Angeles at the moment, but when I found out you were going to be here as well..." The rest of the words were left unsaid, he didn't need to say them. His hand wandered down and began rubbing her clit. "Come for me."

Tom pulled her up and kneaded her breast through her dress and nibbled on her neck. It only took a few more thrusts before they both orgasmed at the same time, Tom filling Y/N with his hot cum.

"Let's get out of this party, after all I promised to make you blush on my bed."

Tag-List open!

@smoke-and-sunset @everybitch @coco-puffses @fa-me

[robinsarm]

After the Bridge has Burned (part 1)

(I have come out of writing hibernation with a long ass Riconti fic. I originally started writing this as an angsty birthday present to myself, 4 weeks later it’s this thing :T)

Dedicated to @dweetwise (I draw so much inspiration from their work and probably wouldn’t have gotten into this pairing if it weren’t for them, so thank you!)

Pairing: Ace Visconti x Felix Richter

(Warnings will be posted through each update. Angst throughout)

Words: ~1.7k

POV: Felix

Three very heavy knocks at the front door pulled Felix’s blank stare away from his untouched coffee. He leaned back from the island as the front door opened without someone there to answer it; Felix only knew one person who knocked then entered without being let in. 

Élodie marched into the house, closing the front door with a firm slam. Her hair was up in a poofy bun. Even at such an early hour she’d adorned a full face of makeup and slim dress with polka dot flats. Felix inspected his stained nightshirt and quickly tied his robe closed as Élodie stepped through the archway into the kitchen. Without a word, she slammed her hand bag down onto the counter, causing Felix to jump. 

“Good morning to you too,” Felix remarked and finally raised his mug to his mouth. The coffee had cooled to an almost undrinkable lukewarm. 

“I’m probably going to be late meeting with a client, but I need to talk to you,” Élodie said in a voice wholly devoid of kindness. 

“I do have a phone you know,” Felix said while taking another sip. 

“Is it charged?” Élodie asked, a pointed look in her eyes.

Without breaking the tense stare between them, Felix pulled his phone out of his robe pocket and tried the power button a few times. Nothing. He could have sworn he’d put it on the charger last night. He’d been forgetting to do that a lot lately. Without a word, Felix tossed the phone onto the island and turned away from Élodie’s burning stare to drink more of his breakfast. 

“You’ve been lying to me,” Élodie accused.

“What do you mean?” Felix asked firmly, heart racing but managing to keep his face under control. 

What had she found out? He wondered. Felix had his suspicions and genuinely hoped it wasn’t what she was bringing up. 

“Why are you alone in this house?” 

The question came out of nowhere to Felix, and with such disdain too. He raised an eyebrow at her before gesturing to the ceiling above him.

“Mom is right upstairs.”

“I know Ursula’s here. Where’s Ace?” Élodie snapped. 

Felix stopped mid-drink, nearly choking as he forced himself not to react any further. Forcing the coffee down his throat, Felix lowered the mug and scooted back in his stool with a screech against the tile. As far as her or anyone else knew, Felix and Ace still talked but just didn’t live together at the moment. That’d been Felix’s lie at least; he couldn’t say what Ace had or hadn’t told the others. Given their radio silence, none of them ever reaching out to say hi, Felix assumed the worst. 

“In the States, I think,” Felix answered with about as much enthusiasm as a man being sent to the gallows. 

Élodie pulled out her phone and furiously tapped at the screen. “Try Quebec.” She held out the phone for Felix to see as he made his way around the island and to the sink next to her. On the screen was an Instagram post from Claudette, the botanist smiling brightly in her selfie while clinging to Meg who clung to Haddie. Behind the girls was Jeff, smiling and cheering a beer with Ace next to him doing the same. They all looked so happy, not a smile seemed forced, Claudette’s caption reading, “Finally wrangled this redhead into visiting her better neighbors up North! (I’m hoping the flower shop won’t wilt while I’m busy spoiling her) #Pray4Them” 

“Why don’t you know where he is?” Élodie demanded, pulling the phone away. Felix opened his mouth but quickly shut it once he realized he had no reasonable answer. 

What was the truth? Felix hadn’t spoken to Ace in over two years, hadn’t even kept his number. It’d been his biggest regret. His second biggest was stretching the truth with Élodie about him keeping in touch with the man. Maybe Felix could consider this situation with Élodie taking third place. He did almost get married after escaping the Entity’s realm, and that was…

“You said you two were still on good terms. What changed?”

“Life changed. We stopped talking, alright!” Felix snapped, yelling when he hadn’t intended to. He’d never had it in him to yell at Élodie before, but this was not a topic he wanted to relive. Reliving that part of his past meant he had to relive his mistake. 

Bringing his temper down, Felix continued. “Why are you so invested in my personal life anyway?”

“Glossing over the fact that I’ve been lied to about it. If I don’t care about your life, you let it go to shit. As you already have,” Élodie answered, gesturing to his morning outfit he hadn’t changed out of. “Your hair is a mess every time I see you. Your attire needs to be burned. Have you even showered recently?”

“Élodie…” Felix felt his impatience flaring up again. “Stop.”

Élodie’s eyes searched through Felix’s, even in his reluctance to look at her. She was searching for answers he simply wouldn’t let bubble to the surface. If Felix let the truth out, he’d have no one on his side. He was wrong, there was no way around that. No ‘looking at it from a different angle to find a silver lining.’ What Felix did to Ace was wrong, and he lost him because of it. He didn’t want to lose Élodie too. He could not lose Élodie. 

Grabbing her bag, Élodie turned to leave but stopped halfway around the island. “Answer me honestly, how long has it been?” she asked quietly while turning her head to look at Felix. Though her question may have seemed vague to a third party, Felix knew what she was asking. “How long has it been since you’ve talked to Ace?”

“Two years,” Felix admitted while staring down at the floor. 

“So…” Élodie considered that length of time, “right after we escaped the-”

“Yeah,” Felix answered before she could finish. 

Felix didn’t know how everyone else felt about the Entity, probably a general agreement of hatred and PTSD, but in the Richter household the name was a curse. No one mentioned it. No one spoke of it. The only time Felix spoke of the Entity was when he’d explained to his mother where he’d disappeared to. After that, there hadn’t been so much as an implication spoken about that place; not in the house, at least. 

“Is it fixable?” 

He lifted his head to stare at her. “What?”

“What happened between you two, can it be fixed? Or is that bridge too burned?” Élodie elaborated. 

What happened…

Of all the things Felix’s brain could have stuck on, it decided those two words would be it. Much like it was prone to do, his brain then proceeded to travel back to what actually happened. The missed phone calls. The texts he didn’t respond to…until he did. Followed by two years of nothing.

Tears streaked down Felix’s face before he even realized they were there. Wiping them away only dried his face for a moment and left a path for new tears to streamline down again. 

He answered with a decisive shake of his head. 

This is why he didn’t want to talk about what happened. Felix simply couldn’t keep himself together when he thought about what he did to Ace. He’d been a wreck for the better part of a year now and he hated to think that he wasn’t suffering the whole two years. 

Élodie’s arms came to wrap around his torso, holding him tight. On the verge of breaking into violent sobs, Felix hugged her back with the same strength and rested his cheek on top of her head. At least hugging her like this Felix could remind himself not to cry into her hair and mess it up; that strategy was somewhat working (for now). 

For Felix, the hug ended too soon. As Élodie pulled back she raised her hands to wipe the tears from his face. Her frustration had gone, replaced with worry and similar misty eyes. 

“I need to go to this meeting, but I’ll cancel my other two today. Clean yourself up. I’ll come back and we can figure this out together, okay? But Felix, I need to know what happened.”

Felix nodded through deep breaths. He wiped away more tears as Élodie gave him one last, quick hug. 

“Ich werde es dir sagen. Danke,” Felix managed to say once he’d regained control over his throat. 

Élodie smiled. “Bien sûr ma chère.” 

Felix didn’t leave the kitchen until Élodie’s car peeled out of their driveway. Of course the first thing he did was worry that he’d made her late to her meeting. He silently hoped that whatever client she planned to meet with was forgiving. As he ascended the stairs of his manor, heading for his bedroom, Felix caught sight of his office, the door still cracked open from how he’d left it last night. In that instance, a feeling rushed into his head like a dream, but with no imagery. That fading touch of anxiety groped at his memories, making him feel the need to find a note or to write something down. With a moment to ponder, Felix realized why he felt that way. 

He had Ace’s phone number. He knew he did. It was just somewhere in his office.

Remembering a little more, it was in the first week Felix had returned home. David (of all people) had gotten a hold of his assistant and asked her to give Felix a bunch of phone numbers; his friend’s phone numbers. He’d been too busy at the time to take them but remembered asking her to leave the note on his desk. 

That was two years ago. 

Felix almost laughed, thinking a two year old piece of paper would be lost by now was a joke to him. He never threw anything away out of fear of needing it later, and there was a good five years worth of clutter in his office. 

If Felix was going to find anything that he could contact Ace with, it was in his office. 

“It’s as good of a place to start as any,” Felix thought as he detoured and pushed the door to his office open. 

Next

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 5)

uh ohh, part 5 baby! im quite enjoying this story so far and i have some fun things planned for it, so i hope you’ll stay with me for them! in today’s part, our fav new celeb couple takes it all the way, though i chose not to include the actual sex part, however im still treating you all with some dirty stuff so enjoy!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4.6k

warning: NSFW content

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

New couple alert?

Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N have been spotted having lunch and grabbing coffee several times in the course of the past few weeks. All the outings looked casual and friendly, they gladly stopped for fans that approached them and the word has it that they’ve been getting closer to each other, though neither of them confirmed anything.

Harry Styles has been known to be single for a while now, only faint rumors swirling up sometimes, but none of them were proven to be true, the young actress is the first woman he has been linked to in a long time. Y/N Y/L/N has been focusing on her blooming career and has been single since her split from long time exboyfriend and fellow actor, Levi Hudson. The pair dated all through 2018, splitting in the beginning of 2019. Hudson has admitted their hectic schedules made it impossible to maintain their relationship while Y/N did not confirm anything.

Styles is going on his world-wide tour soon, while Y/L/N is currently between two projects. The young celebs seem to be enjoying each other’s company and fans have been quick to jump into speculations about their alleged romance, however there is no evidence as of right now.

“Thank you so much for your time, it was a pleasure to talk to you,” the young interviewer smiles at you, holding her hand out and you shake it with a warm smile.

“Thank you for having me! And I really like your shoes, by the way,” you point down at her electric blue pumps that you’ve been eyeing since the start of the interview.

“Oh, thank you! Got them from a vintage store,” she beams, a slight blush playing on her cheeks clearly a little starstruck from your compliment.

“Love those little stores.”

“Me too,” she giggles collecting her papers and notes. “Someone will contact you and your team soon about the photoshoot and I’ll email you a draft of the interview in about a week.”

“That’s perfect, thank you so much,” you nod at her grabbing your purse from the side table next to you. Grabbing your phone from the depth of it you smile to yourself upon seeing the text from Harry.

“Call me when you’re done with the interview Xx.”

You say your goodbye to everyone before heading out of the building. Lawrence is at the front waiting for you in the car and he greets you with a warm smile when you sit into the backseat. As he starts the car and heads back to your home, you call Harry, who picks it up after the second ring.

“Hey! How was the interview?” he beams brightly, his voice immediately making you smile.

“Great! This young girl did it and she had some exciting questions.”

“Sounds lovely. Can’t wait to buy a Cosmopolitan with you on the cover soon,” he says and you can hear the grin through his voice.

“Will look good in your hands for sure,” you chuckle.

“Right. So I have a question for you.”

“Go for it.”

“I’m doing this very small show at Beacon Theater this weekend, kind of a practice before the real tour begins and I was wondering if you’d be up to come. Would love to have you there.”

“When is it exactly?”

“Saturday at nine. I know it’s a short notice and I get it if you have something else going on, just wanted to ask.”

“I think I can make it work,” you smile, thinking back at what your day looks like on Saturday. “Can I bring someone?”

“Of course! Just let me know how many people so I can have the tickets sent over to you.”

“Thank you. It’s sweet of you to think about me.”

“You know I always think about you,” he murmurs and his voice sends a shiver down your spine. Crazy to think how much he can affect you with just his words, he just has a special spell on you, it seems.

“Still such a flirt, I see,” you chuckle, feeling your cheeks heating up as you hear his soft laugh on the other end of the line.

“For you, always.”

“Alright. I’ll text you about the tickets and thank you again. Can’t wait to see you perform finally.”

“It’s been due for a while now, right? Kind of promised you some tickets on Ellen, if I remember correctly.”

“You did!” you laugh thinking back at the time you met him. How funny that just one short game on a talk show led the two of you here. You have to thank Ellen though.

“Now I’m finally keeping my promise. Talk to you later then, Love. Have a great day.”

“You too, Harry.”

 You manage to convince Sydney to join you for the concert, she sounds excited when you ask if she had anything to do on Saturday. Seeing Harry perform before his tour kicks off is a thrill for her she wouldn’t pass on for anything, so she is really grateful that you thought of her as your plus one.

Harry has your passes sent over to your place on Friday and it comes with a bouquet of flowers as well as a card.

“Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. What’s your favorite song? I’ll make sure to perform it just for you. –H”

He never fails to make you feel like the only woman on the planet and you can definitely see why so many fall for him even without meeting him. The man has all the power to charm anyone with just a smile.

You put the flowers into a vase and leave them on your dining table before grabbing your phone and sending him a quick text.

“It’s Only Angel,” you simply write, hoping he’ll get it why you just wrote that. Luckily, he does.

“Straight to the setlist. Dedicated to You.”

 Finishing up the last touches to your makeup you bop your head to the song blasting through the stereo. It’s Only Angel, of course. You’ve had it on repeat all afternoon and now you can’t wait to actually see Harry perform it live.

Just as you are about to get changed, Syd arrives so you let her in with a beaming smile and when she hears the music upon walking into your place she cheers in excitement.

“Yes! This is such a jam!” she smirks, doing a little dance as you lock the door behind her.

“You look fantastic, Syd,” you tell her. The black short dress looks amazing paired with the lilac oversized blazer. Her makeup matches the same color and you are obsessed with the fishnet tights. She will surely make men wish she was into them.

“Thank you! Spent two hours figuring out what to wear, so I hope I look fantastic,” she giggles.

She helps you put together your outfit as well. Wide legged flaming red pants that make your waist look snatched, a black sheer top tucked into it with just a black bralette underneath. You already know Harry will be a fan of the skin you’re showing, you can’t wait to see his face when he finally spots you.

You quickly pack your essentials into a black Chanel purse along with stuff you need for a possible sleepover if things might take a pleasant turn, and you finish with everything just when the doorman calls up through the intercom that Lawrence has arrived.

“So, what’s the deal with you and him, if I may ask?” Syd questions in the car, not in a nosy way, more like a curious, friendly way.

“We are… getting close,” you say, tasting the word on your tongue. You haven’t labeled whatever you have going on with Harry, nor do you really know what it should be called. You’ve been trying hard to make time for each other as much as possible, making small lunch and coffee dates a regular thing. He came over to your place one evening for a movie and that’s the only time you were able to be alone with him, though nothing sexual happened. Yet. The real deal is yet to happen and if you are being honest you are running short on patience. It’s getting harder to hold yourself back and keep your hands to yourself as well when you are out with him, but you agreed to keep it lowkey out in the public.

Tonight, however, you have a feeling what you’ve been waiting for so long might actually happen and you can only hope Harry is planning the same thing. You are absolutely ready to bluntly ask if he wants to spend the night at your place.

“But you’re heading… somewhere, right?”

“I hope so,” you smile shyly.

“That’s amazing. I think you two are a match,” Syd smirks at you.

By the time you arrive to the venue the gates have been opened so people are busy getting inside, giving you the chance to walk inside through the backdoors without any fuss.

“Miss, Harry requested me to usher you to his dressing room when you arrive,” the girl at the door smiles at you with a clipboard in her hands and a headset covering her ears.

“Oh, alright,” you nod, turning to Syd. “You go ahead and get us a good place,” you tell her and she nods walking away with a wave as she heads up to the second floor that’s fully reserved for friends and family.

Following the girl down the hallway you are led to a room that has Harry’s name on it. She gently knocks on the door and a few moments later it flies open, revealing Harry in a colorful suit and a simple white button-down shirt. He looks breathtaking, hair fixed perfectly and the wide grin stretching across his lips when he sees you standing there.

“You’re here!” he breathes out, grabbing your hand and pulling inside, snatching you away from the preying eyes. Once the door clicks closed behind you, he is quick to press his lips to yours in a sweet welcoming kiss. Ever since your first official date he hasn’t passed on any chance to kiss you whenever you had the luxury of privacy to yourselves, which hasn’t happened too much, leaving you both with a growing hunger for each other every time you meet.

“Mm of course I am,” you smile against his lips before pecking them one last time and leaning back. “Looking great, Mr. Styles,” you grin, taking your time to wander your eyes down on him.

“Yeah? Like the suit?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, I love your outfit as well. M’gonna have a hard time not thinking about you on the stage.”

“Please think about me,” you breathe out with a coy smile.

“Don’t fucking say that to me, you are giving me a hard time,” he groans and you just chuckle at the tortured look on his face.

“Sorry,” you mumble, but your face doesn’t meet your words. He squeezes your waist gently, pecking your lips in a rush before he lets go of you.

“I need to go over a few things before we start, so just go ahead and join Syd. Meet me here after the show?”

“Yeah, perfect,” you nod smiling. “Good luck out there,” you wink and he grins at you with bright eyes. His hands grab onto yours before you head out, pulling you in for one last kiss before you leave.

You feel flustered and you take a few deep breaths on your way up to the gallery to find Syd who managed to get an amazing spot at the front on the left side.

They offer everyone up on the gallery some champagne before the show starts and looking around you see a few familiar faces, but no one you specifically know. You stick with Sydney who is over the moon about the show and you are kind of sharing her excitement.

When the lights go down and the music finally starts, you can’t help but join in with the screams that fill the theater.

You’ve seen videos of him performing, in One Direction and solo as well. You’ve seen pictures and you’ve heard the words about how amazing he is on stage, but none of those live up to the actual experience. The sensation that takes over you just by seeing him appear on the stage as the whole theater chants his name as one, it completely sweeps you off your feet and for a second you wonder how you could live a life without this experience.

When his voice starts to flow through the massive speakers you need to take a deep breath, a shiver runs down your spine and you chug down the rest of your champagne so you could get rid of the glass and hold onto the railing with both hands because you feel like you need to ground yourself before you shoot into the sky.

Song after song, he performs perfectly, bringing every single person in the audience to that euphoric state they’ve been probably seeking their whole life. The experience is surely one of a kind, something you’ll definitely be thinking about for a long time.

Time seems to stop, though it cruelly carries on even when you forget about it completely. The concert is nearing its end and Harry takes a breather as he places his guitar to the stand behind him. You watch his every move as he walks back to the microphone, his gaze moving up to the gallery, roaming through the people until they find you.

“This last song is dedicated… to my Only Angel,” he murmurs into the microphone as the audience erupts, blows up at once and your heart skips a beat when his eyes linger over you for a little longer before the music starts to play.

You faintly hear Syd screaming next to you, probably aware that the dedication was addressed to you, but you can’t tear your eyes off of the man on the stage.

He nails it perfectly, looking like an absolute rockstar that he truly is and for a moment you can’t believe you have his attention and interest. How can such a precious and unbelievably talented man be in your reach?

Because I deserve great things in life, you tell yourself, a little mantra you’ve gotten around to repeat every time you found yourself doubting your success and happiness.

The concert eventually ends and though no one in the room desires the end of it, Harry leaves and you are abruptly brought back to reality.

“That was… something else truly,” Syd breathes out as the two of you linger around a little longer, trying to come down from the high you just experienced.

“Yeah. He is so fucking talented it’s almost unfair,” you chuckle running a hand through your hair.

“This tour will kill thousands of people all around the world,” she muses and for a moment, reality sets in and you realize that Harry will leave for his worldwide tour very soon, leaving you behind.

You get rid of the thought, not wanting to stress over something that’s not relevant just yet and you don’t want to ruin the evening either. Fears and stress can wait a little longer.

The two of you make your way backstage, walking into a bit of a chaos as all close friends and family want to congratulate to Harry and the band as well. Standing at the side you let everyone have their time, barely even seeing Harry in the sea of people in the spacious green room. Syd keeps you company as you wait and about thirty minutes later it seems like the crowd is starting to loosen up.

Harry spots you and excuses himself immediately from his conversation with a couple, heading in your direction with the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his pretty face.

“Congrats, that was mind-blowing,” you smirk as he reaches you, a hand curling around your waist as he leans down and places a kiss to your cheek, keeping it as moderate as possible, though you both just want to jump at each other.

“Thank you, Love,” he nods, a blush tinting his cheeks from your words. “Hello Sydney, so great to see you again,” he greets the girl next to you and they share a short hug.

“Hi! Loved the show so much!” she giggles in excitement.

“Thank you for coming.”

The three of you chat for a while before Sydney says she is gonna call herself an Uber, so after saying her goodbye she leaves you alone with Harry, as much as you can be alone with a bunch of other people around.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he clears his throat as his hand finds its way back to the small of your back.

“Go for it.”

“We are gonna grab a drink at some bar, but nothing over the top and I wanted to ask if you would want to join.”

“Sounds good,” you smile, feeling a little disappointed. This is not exactly what you wanted him to ask. Luckily, he is not done with his questions.

“Also… I-If it’s cool by you, I thought that… maybe you could come over?”

“Mmm, go over and do what?” you tease him, your smile stretching wider with each passing moment.

“I have plenty of ideas, Love,” he breathes out, making you laugh. “We could drop by your place if you need anything to stay over.”

“No need. Packed a bag,” you slyly grin at him, taking him by surprise clearly, but it’s surely a pleasant one.

“Always a step ahead of me, huh?” he smirks, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

It takes some time to actually leave the venue and head off to the bar with a close group of friends of him and the band. A secluded area was already reserved for you that has its own bar, so you could enjoy the evening without worrying about preying eyes of strangers or fans. You really weren’t in the mood to keep your distance from Harry, this way at least you were able to touch each other in a more intimate way without speculations swirling up immediately.

You get to know his band and some of his friends, they are all genuinely amazing people, but you weren’t expecting anything else. You figured he only surrounds himself with people like him. His hands often find your waist and he doesn’t shy away from kissing your cheek or giving your hips a gentle squeeze, just letting you know you have his attention and he appreciates that you’re there.

It’s nearing one am when the guests start leaving and soon enough you find yourself in the back of your car with Harry, heading to his place, while you try your best to keep your hands away from him. You wouldn’t put Lawrence through the trauma of having to see or hear something he shouldn’t.

But that doesn’t stop you from kissing, something you’ve been dying to do all night. Your hand rests on his thigh while he has an arm curled around your shoulders, keeping you tight by his side, delicately brushing his nose against your hair every time your lips are not connected.

“Thank you, Lawrence. I’ll call myself a taxi in the morning, have the day off,” you tell your driver who smiles in your way thankfully while Harry grabs your and his bags from the back of the car.

“Thank you, Miss. Enjoy your night,” he nods in your way as you shut the door closed.

You try to take your duffel bag from Harry, but he insists to carry it as the two of you walk inside his house.

“Want something to drink? Water, tea or something?” he asks, setting the bags down near his giant, comfortable looking couch. Your thoughts immediately wander to a dirty field, picturing him sitting on that very couch as you kneel in front of him, pleasuring him so good that his eyes roll back…

“Yeah, water please,” you say clearing your throat. Some hydration will come handy after the drinks you chugged down at the bar.

You follow him as he shuffles into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and a bottled water from the fridge for you, pouring some into the glass before handing it to you.

“Thank you. You have a nice place for yourself,” you tell him, looking around in his home.

“Thanks. Been working on it for a while,” he chuckles softly. “Feels a bit too big for just myself though.”

You finish the water and set your eyes at him, feeling your hunger for him grow with each passing moment. Placing the empty glass to the marble counter you take a step closer to him.

“You feel lonely often?” you question in a low voice. His eyes return to you and you are happy to see the same lust in them.

“Would say so, yes,” he nods, running his tongue over his pink lips before he reaches out and grabbing you by your hips, he draws you close to him. Leaning down his lips brush against the shell of your ear, a shiver runs down your spine when you hear his whisper in it. “Hope it’ll change soon.”

At a loss of patience, you grab his face and angle it perfectly so you can kiss him hard. And by hard, you mean real hard. He stumbles back from the force, but manages to keep his balance, returning the kiss just as vehemently as he receives it, a tug of war starting between the two of you.

His hands work fast on the sheer fabric of your shirt, pulling it out from the waistband of your pants, getting rid of it eagerly as his lips wander down on your neck, collarbones and chest. He easily turns the two of you around so you are pushed against the edge of the countertop, his hips pushed against you and it’s clearer that daylight just how excited he is to have you here tonight. Your eyes flicker over to the couch again and the desire to please him with your mouth just bursts, you can’t hold yourself back anymore.

So you push him away from you, grabbing his wrist and yanking him after you, heading towards the couch. You push him down and his lustful eyes follow every move of yours as you kneel in front of him and he realizes what you are about to do. He doesn’t stop you when you work to unbutton his pants, but his hand finds your chin and he pulls you up for a swift, but passionate kiss.

Once you successfully undid his pants he lifts his hips and you spare some time and energy, pulling them down along with his underwear, leaving him only in his vintage printed t-shirt as his cock springs free. You push your thighs together just at the sight of him, the way his eyes burn down on you, how his lips part when your gazes meet and the way he sucks on his breath when your fingers dig into his thighs near his crotch as you situate yourself closer.

“I believe I owe you an orgasm, don’t I?” you ask with a cheeky smirk before wrapping your left hand around the base of his shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze, just enough to get him even more excited. A whimpered moan slips from his lips and you lean closer, giving his cock a lick from bottom to top, wrapping your lips around the head as you swirl your tongue around it.

“Fuck hell!” he breathes out, clearly enjoying himself, hands fisting the cushion next to him, but you bet they’ll be buried in your hair soon.

You’re not an expert in the field of blowjobs, but it’s been your thing to come barging right through the door and jump the easy teasing whenever you were on your knees for a man. So with your hands fixed on his beautiful face, you sink down on him, his cock gliding into your mouth right until the tip reaches the back of your throat, earning the loudest moan you’ve heard from him. Shutting your eyes closed you keep him like that for a second until the urge to gag starts to set in, so you slide him out, your saliva dripping down his erection as your eyes meet his and you can tell you shocked him with your bold first move.

“Do that one more time and I won’t last for a minute,” he warns breathing heavily and you just smirk up at him before going into action again, this time only taking a smaller portion of him, pumping the base to make up for the lack of deep throating, but it appears that he enjoys just the simple part of it equally. As you keep bobbing your head, taking as much of him as you can without gagging, his right hand flies to your hair, taking a handful of it as he gently guides your head, keeping it in the rhythm that works the best for him and you happily let him do whatever makes him feel good.

When your free hand goes to gently massage his balls your name erupts from him in the most voluptuous way you’ve heard him call out for you. As if he just cried out for God himself.

“Y/N, fuck, I won’t last long,” he warns you, but that’s all you want. You need to see him come undone under your touch, you want to be the reason his breath hitches. Picking up your pace you see him whimper some more, head falling backwards to the back of the couch. It’s a heavenly view and you wish you could take a picture of his beauty as he enjoys himself on this intimate level. You’ve never wanted to please a man more than him and just seeing him in this blissful state makes you wet through your underwear.

When his breathing starts to get uneven, chest heaving wildly, you take all of him again, his head poking the back of your throat and you push your tongue against his length as you slide him out, picking up the same pace that you kept before, both hands working hard on him.

“Fuck! I-I’m gonna cum!” he warns again and just a few seconds later, you feel the evidence of his satisfaction spurt into the back of your throat, eyes falling on you as you give him one last lick before swallowing everything that’s in your mouth.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out pulling you up, eagerly kissing you without a second thought, his hands cupping your cheeks to keep you in place. “You surely know how to kill a man, yea?” he huffs making you chuckle.

“Think you can go for a second one?” you sheepishly ask, blinking up at him from under your long lashes.

“I’ll have enough time to recover while I eat you out like you’re my last meal,” he bluntly replies, and a moan almost slips from your lips.

“Show me what you got, Styles,” you challenge him and he doesn’t need more, he easily picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he heads straight to the bedroom.

“As you wish, Angel,” he mumbles against your skin, peppering your neck and shoulder with featherlike kisses along his way until he throws you to his bed, ruthlessly tearing the remaining of your clothes off your body.

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[andypantsx3]

statistically significant | 1 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

note: I cannot overemphasize that this interpretation of Bakugou is based on season 1 Bakugou, which means he behaves very questionably at the beginning. Please heed the warnings!

Last year

You had been ferreting snacks out of the Hero Awards when he found you.

In retrospect, the whole idea of attending the Hero Awards had been a bad one from the get go. You’d just been so thrilled by the image of it in your head--getting to see all your favorite pros gathered in one place, dressed to the nines, celebrating their rankings, their wins, their saves, their successes. You’d pictured yourself flitting between heroes, collecting autographs and taking selfies, sitting down at a table with big names like Uravity and Froppy, making fast friends over the complimentary champagne.

But then you’d seen what really went into preparing for and attending an event like this, and the shine had quickly rubbed off.

When your boss at the Commission had extended you the invite, she’d told you that you would be representing the organization, and had advised you to contract a makeup artist and find someone willing to dress you. Her tone had strongly implied that this was more of an order than a suggestion. So you’d done it, but nobody had told you exactly how many hours went into getting your makeup tested, getting fitted and refitted for a dress, and fielding questions on cut, colors, fabrics, and fit.

By the time the Awards rolled around, you’d lost upwards of forty excruciating hours of your life to preparations, and had developed some kind of anxiety-induced Pavlovian response to the modiste’s name on your phone screen, where you immediately wanted to leap into the nearest storage closet and hide. And none of this was even counting the five full hours you spent on the day of the awards getting primped and polished within an inch of your life, then stuffed into some ridiculous scrap of fabric that threatened to fall off of you if you so much as breathed wrong.

By the time the stylists and makeup artist had finished with you, you were starved, cranky, and nursing a small migraine from how enthusiastic the hairdresser had been with you. You’d thought, though, that you would finally be able to enjoy yourself now that the worst was over. All there was left was to attend the ceremony, and get to see all your favorite heroes.

And for an hour or two, the Hero Awards had been just as cool as expected. You lingered on the fringes of the red carpet, gawking as pros like Chargebolt and Pinky swanned their way down the walkway, looking even cooler in real life than they looked on TV. Everyone had clearly gone all out, and they looked unbelievably good, either inhumanly beautiful or inhumanly intimidating. You had been utterly transfixed, as evidenced by the inordinate amount of time you spent accidentally staring at Todoroki Shouto as he gave an interview to the side of the walkway, looking absolutely unreal as he leaned over to speak to the reporter.

When you’d finally managed to snap out of your trance, you’d remembered to cut a beeline for the snack table, and had set about stuffing as many snacks into your dress as you could manage. And that’s where the trouble really started.

The invite to the Awards had come with the option for a very fancy multi-course dinner that you could have chosen. Instead, you’d taken one look at the price and laughed yourself sick, before resolving to sneak a bunch of the free snacks into your dress to keep you occupied during the ceremony. The problem was, the scrap of fabric the modiste had insisted was a dress was so obnoxiously flimsy and could only hold so many snacks.

If your dress had been able to hold a reasonable number of snacks, you wouldn’t have needed to sneak back out to the snack table during the presentation, and he would have never had a chance to catch you on your own. But the dress was lacking snack utility, and so you had gone back out for more.

You kept low in the aisle as you crept out of the darkened theater, keeping a hand over your chest so you didn’t spill out of the thin fabric of your dress, and emerged into the reception hall, where you were almost blinded by the harsh light. You stood for a minute, blinking the spots out of your vision, and touched a hand to your eyes, careful not to smear any of your eyeliner.

And that’s when he struck.

Almost as soon as you raised your hand, a rough hand seized your wrist, wrenching your arm down. A heavy arm went around you quickly, trapping both your arms to your sides, and you barely had time to let out a squeak before a calloused hand clapped over your mouth. Your feet left the floor, and then you were being dragged through a side door into the stairwell.

You twisted wildly, kicking out, trying to catch the wall or the railing to push off of and throw your assailant off balance, but he was strong, and clearly well-versed in combat, as he kept you well away from anything you could use to your advantage. He hauled you out into the stairwell, but instead of heading down the stairs, he moved towards the corner. To your surprise, he tossed you unceremoniously against the wall, letting you go.

You caught yourself on the rough stone and whirled around, only to reel back in shock when you caught sight of your assailant.

Bakugou Katsuki, perhaps better known as pro hero Ground Zero, leaned over you, trapping you against the wall with an arm on either side of you. He, like all the other heroes you’d caught sight of today, looked almost unreal in person, but in stark contrast to all the others, his handsome face was twisted up in unmistakeable fury, blood-red eyes bright with violence and white teeth bared in a silent snarl. Even under the thick fabric of his suit, you could see the hard lines of his body were taught with aggression, and it was all you could do to not shrink back against the cold stone of the wall.

“So,” he snarled, leaning in to put his face close to yours, “you’re the fucking statistics nerd.”

You gaped at him, mouth falling open. Your professional title was data scientist, but statistics nerd was a close enough descriptor that you could tell he knew who you were. Your brows went up, wondering why in the world Ground Zero knew you.

“E-excuse me?” you managed. Your brain rapidly kicked into high gear, running through possible reasons why he would know you, what he could possibly want with you.

Bakugou snarled. “What the fuck is your problem with me?”

You stared at him. Problem with him? Other than the fact that he’d just seized you with no warning and dragged you into a stairwell, you had no problem with him. You’d never even met him--what the hell was he talking about?

“Uh, do you maybe have me confused with someone else?” you asked, trying to shift out from under his arm. Maybe there was another data scientist milling around in the crowds that he’d meant to get his hands on instead.

Bakugou’s red eyes narrowed, and he put a hand to your abdomen to press you firmly back to the wall. “Oh no. You’re not getting out of this, you little brat. Fucking fix it.”

You eyed him warily, checking him for signs of a head injury, wandering over his shock of blonde hair and noting the size of his pupils. Maybe Bakugou had been out on assignment just before the Awards, and hadn’t stopped to get his injuries checked out before coming here. A blow to the head would explain why he was behaving so strangely, and asking for weird stuff.

“Fix what?” you asked, frowning when you couldn’t spot the signs of a concussion on him. His gaze seemed all too focused, all too intent. It was nerve-wracking, actually. You’d heard of his reputation for intensity before, but it was one thing to hear it and another entirely to have all that intensity trained on you.

Bakugou bared his teeth and leaned closer. “Your fucking nerd-ass model. Fix it.”

You froze.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh, this was about the model. You knew his bone to pick with the model.

The entire reason you’d received an invite to the Hero Awards in the first place was because of your work on the model that calculated the hero rankings. The model had existed for years before you had come along, but this year it was different.

You’d been hired a couple months ago by the Public Safety Hero Commission after you’d contacted them with an idea on how to finally calculate the value of field assists. You’d had a rough prototype of a neural network that you’d trained on video of multi-hero operations, tracking the movements of all the heroes on screen, and had developed an algorithm capable of assigning point values to moves that contributed to but did not directly result in a win or a rescue.

The Commission couldn’t get their hands on your work fast enough, and after only a few months refining your neural net, it was hooked into the rankings model, and it had informed not only the choices for Rescue of the Year and Most Valuable Hero this year, but had entirely changed the hero rankings overall.

And Bakugou’s ranking had been very much affected.

Bakugou Katsuki was a hero very unlike the world had ever seen. Anyone could see from his stats alone that he was incredibly driven, supremely powerful, and almost unmatched by any other hero out there. A few years out from UA, he’d already entered the top ten and had been mere breaths away from the top three -- that is, until your model results had been released.

The thing about Bakugou was that he had a higher percentage of fight wins than any hero in recorded history. He came out on top of almost any situation he entered into, and had one of the highest villain capture stats and the highest villain kill stat as compared to any other hero at this point in their career. The problem was, the new model also now took into account assists, as well as applied slightly heavier weights to rescues, and as good as Bakugou was at winning fights, he was almost equally as terrible at helping others.

So when your model had been worked into the Hero Commission’s official ranking calculations, Bakugou had backslid to sit unhappily at rank number eight.

And apparently, he thought this meant you had a personal grudge.

“Okay, I understand you’re upset, but the results are the results,” you said, watching him carefully. “It’s got nothing to do with you personally.”

His expression darkened thunderously, and the hand on your abdomen grew notably hotter, a scent like gunpowder and burnt sugar rising in the stairwell. “Like hell it doesn’t. Fucking fix it.”

Your brow furrowed. How did regular people think models worked? “There’s no ‘fixing it’, Bakugou. That’s just how math works. If you have a problem with how assists and rescues are weighted then you can take it up with the Commission. I just trained the model with their recommendations, and the results are what they are.”

Bakugou apparently registered none of what you were saying. Rough fingers slid to your jaw, tipping your face up to him. “What is it that you wanted, you damn brat? Did you want to see me humiliated? Or maybe you wanted my attention?” His fingers dug into your jaw. “Well now you have it, you fucking harpy, so show me what you wanted with it.”

You gaped at him, unable to help the way your mouth hung open like a fish. Did he think you were blackmailing him? With a fucking statistical model? It was a matter of public record that Bakugou was smart--he was purportedly one of the brightest minds that had ever graced the profession of hero, with strategic skill and combat sense that was utterly unparalleled--so then why the hell was he being so dumb about this? Was he really so self-absorbed that he thought this whole thing was about him?

Your temper flared, rising like the slow heat that was building under his hands. “I know this might be news to you,” you said slowly, “but not everything is about you. The model I trained takes in video as its input, and calculates rankings based on recommended weighting criteria that the Hero Commission gave me themselves. There is no place for me to input my own biases or change the results, so if the output is something that you’re ashamed of, then maybe you should do better.”

Bakugou’s eyes brightened, narrowing on you with an intensity that made you want to curl into the wall. “Say that again, you little fuck.”

You held your ground, ignoring the dangerous way the scent of hot smoke sharpened, leaning forward to bare your own teeth. “Maybe you should do better, you self-centered asshole.”

You were close enough that you could see his pupils dilate with the challenge, like a predator catching sight of its prey. An unsettling grin made its way across his mouth. “I am going to make you wish you’d never even seen a calculator, you smug fucking nerd,” he said, leaning into you.

The scent of gunpowder burned in the back of your throat, and the hands on you flared alarmingly hot, before the door to the hall burst open, and a whirlwind of red and yellow tore into the stairwell.

“Heya Blasty,” a voice chirped, echoing on the stairs, “Found ya.”

The shock of golden yellow resolved itself into the lean figure of Kaminari Denki, aka pro hero Chargebolt. He quickly made his way to Bakugou’s side, seizing an elbow.

“I’m busy, fuckstick. Fuck off,” Bakugou growled.

A large hand reached over Bakugou’s other shoulder to pull him off you, a head of gelled red spikes materializing behind his back, and you blinked up at Kirishima Eijirou, also known as Red Riot.

“Sorry about him,” Kirishima smiled down at you warmly, in direct contrast to the way his fingers dug into Bakugou’s shoulder. His teeth looked incredibly sharp in person, but this fact somehow failed to detract from the warmth of his friendly expression. You blinked, stunned that you were being addressed by Red Riot.

“He’s been a little worked up since the results were released, but he’s harmless,” Kirishima explained, grunting a little as he jerked Bakugou away from you. Bakugou snarled and turned to his friend, a small volley of sparks lighting off of his palm.

“I said fuck off,” he growled.

You let out a choked laugh at the idea of Bakugou Katsuki being called harmless. Just this week he’d perfected a technique where he melted clean through concrete, and you’d seen the replay of him liquifying the side of a skyscraper on the news this morning as you’d been getting your makeup done.

“Harmless, right. Definitely felt that way,” you uttered as Kirishima struggled to get a grip on Bakugou.

“I’ll fucking show you harmless,” Bakugou spat, turning back to you, sparks crackling louder in his palm. Kirishima seized his chance quickly, getting a bulky arm around Bakugou’s chest and lifting him straight off the ground. Bakugou snarled and gripped Kirishima’s forearm, letting off an explosion that would have blown anyone else’s arm clean off, but Kirishima just laughed, ignoring that the sleeve of his suit had caught fire, and hauled Bakugou back through the door.

A litany of swears filtered back through the door before it swung shut again.

Kaminari turned to face you, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry about that. We didn’t realize he was gonna come after you like that, though I don’t think he would have actually done anything. He’s pretty much all talk.”

You waved a hand, still stunned that Chargebolt was speaking to you.

“Uh, it’s okay,” you said. “I just...didn’t expect that kind of a reaction.”

Kaminari chuckled. “He’s usually a little more chill these days--I think he’s just pissed he’s losing to Midoriya now.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “I gotta say, though, he was even more worked up than I expected when we got here. What did you say to him?”

You grimaced, thinking back on the tense conversation. “That if he was ashamed of his ranking, he should do better.”

Kaminari choked. “Oh fuck, he must have been pissed,” he managed, before dissolving into peals of laughter. “Do better. No wonder he looked like he was gonna give himself a hernia. Mina’s gonna wet herself when I tell her.”

You shifted uncomfortably. “He thinks I altered the results to get his attention.”

Kaminari’s chuckles tapered off as he set a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Oh, he’s just saying that. He knows he’s shit at assists. He’s just salty he’s actually gotta do something about it if he wants to be number one.”

You thought back to the feeling of that hard body pressing you up against the wall, the disdain that had twisted his handsome face, the burning heat that had built up under his palms. A shiver went down your spine. It had seemed like he was a little more than salty, but if that’s how his friend wanted to put it, then fine.

“Well, thanks for the save anyway,” you said, giving Kaminari a little smile. “I’d definitely give you and Kirishima Rescue of the Year if I was pre-determining my results.”

Kaminari laughed, turning back to the door that Kirishima had dragged Bakugou through. As if on cue, a small boom sent the door swinging open a little. “Speaking of which, I’d better get back to make sure I don’t have to rescue the rescuer.”

He gave you a casual wave, then crossed to the door quickly. He hesitated at the threshold, then peeked back over his shoulder at you.

“By the way,” he said. “You might want to take a look at your dress. I, um, think Bakugou may have gotten a little carried away.”

He disappeared before you could ask what he meant, but a quick glance down clarified soon enough. Right on your abdomen, where Bakugou had pinned you against the wall, lay a scorched cut out, exactly in the shape of one large hand.

Your mouth dropped open in horror.

That fucking dick.