when mel first pitched the idea to langdon he was driving them home from work and he gripped the steering wheel so tight that mel was scared she made him mad, when in reality he was so turned on he had to think of the time in the ER when everyone got sick with food poisoning so he wouldn’t think of the idea of him and mel pretending to sneak around and have an affair.
he had her pressed against the wall and his hand down her scrub pants as soon as they got in the door. mel laughed, kissing him back and then got super serious.
“oh, frank we shouldn’t do this, you’re married—“
“yeah? then why are you dripping down my hand right now mel?”
“frank,” she gasps, gripping his arm as he sinks another finger into her, moaning when he kisses that spot behind her ear and on her neck.
“tell me to stop, and i will, mel. i’ll stop right now and we can pretend this never happened.”
mel shakes her head, and he grins wildly as he sinks down to his knees, pulling down to her ankles, pulling her panties to the side and licking a stripe up her cunt.
“that’s my good girl,” and mel comes instantly on his face, letting out a loud moan. he loves how easily he can turn her on.
“yeah,” he mutters into her pussy, slowing his fingers down just enough that it wouldn’t overstimulate her. “you pretend to be so sweet and innocent, but behind closed doors you like to be fucked by a married man,” he stands up, whispering in her ear. she covers her mouth, staring into his eyes and then closing them, already on the brink of another orgasm.
“oh, baby, you can’t act all shy now. not when you came on my face, not when you made me lie to my wife so i could fuck you,” mel drops her hand, glaring at frank when her second orgasm crashes into her like a wave, and he doesn’t take his fingers out of her until she stops pulsing around him, and then he makes her clean his fingers off by putting them into her mouth.
he presses a kiss onto her cheek, crouching down to pull her shoes off, her panties into place and her scrubs back up.
“woah,” she laughs, fixing her glasses. “thank you,” she says, kissing him before going into the kitchen to fix themselves dinner.
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Aoi Tachibana has a solution for everything. She is the top student in her class, the most feared presence in the chemistry lab, and completely incapable of telling Ren Kisaragi that she likes him. This is the one problem she cannot solve through intelligence alone, which means it is the one problem she has decided to solve through chemistry instead.
The result is a homemade love potion — weeks of work, meticulously formulated — delivered in a juice bottle on an ordinary Tuesday. The logic was clean. He drinks it, he looks at her, he falls for her. No vulnerability required. No confession needed. Just science.
Ren finishes the juice. Aoi tells him everything. Ren looks at the wall.
He keeps looking at the wall.
Within the hour he has sourced a blindfold, established a navigation system, and recruited Daiki Sano — his best friend, a person of deep genre awareness and deeper suspicion — as a full time guide. Daiki, who had been cataloguing Aoi's increasingly suspicious behavior for two months prior and never quite connected the dots in time, accepts this role with the grim energy of a man who already knew this was coming and is furious at himself for not moving faster.
What Daiki also knows, and what neither Aoi nor Ren knows he knows, is that Ren Kisaragi liked Aoi Tachibana long before she ever handed him that juice.
He is going to let this play out.
Look At Me! follows three people locked into a situation entirely of one person's making. Aoi wages a campaign of escalating schemes to make Ren look at her — disguises, angle calculations, reflection traps, staged emergencies, a carnival mirror maze, and one devastating omniseeing potion that cost her three weeks of sleep and was destroyed in a hallway by a first year student who will never know what they did. Each scheme is more ambitious than the last. Each scheme fails in a way that reveals something she wasn't ready to show. Ren, patient and quietly devoted, stares at ceilings and navigates hallways by memory and refuses to look at anything — especially not her, especially carefully, for reasons he isn't saying out loud. And Daiki documents everything in a notebook, tries antidotes of genuinely questionable scientific validity, investigates Aoi with the thoroughness of someone building a case, and tells himself repeatedly that he is a reluctant participant in all of this.
He has opinions about which of her schemes show creative growth.
He timed his arrivals.
He kept the notebook voluntarily.
Somewhere between the eyedrops and the forum posts and standing guard outside a mirror maze at a carnival, Daiki Sano stopped being a bystander and became someone who needs this to end well — for both of them. That realization costs him more than he expected.
Look At Me! is a comedy about the distance between being brilliant and being brave. About a girl who built the most elaborate possible detour around a four word sentence. About a boy who wore a blindfold for months to protect feelings he already had. And about a best friend who saw everything coming, stayed anyway, and is choosing to stand outside a door in a quiet hallway while two idiots finally figure out what he knew all along.
YN screeched, “Five hundred dollars?!” She threw her hands up. “I don’t see platinum joints in the walls or gold bricks lining the floors!”
She knew she was being dramatic, but someone had to say it.
The realtor, a guy with sharp sun-kissed features and dressed in all-black urban streetwear, squinted at her like she’d never paid rent before. “And how much did you pay for your last place, little lady?”
“Four hundred. For a 900 square foot concrete box with more holes than I have fingers. Oh, and a 24/7 view of my big-bellied neighbour on life support who thought he was the pornstar of my dreams. Never forgot to flaunt those hairy curves.”
The sunny man visibly gagged, shaking his head. “Right. So, compared to that, this place is a steal. No pervy neighbors. One-bedroom, kitchen, attached bath. Plus, a basement you could use for work or...”
He gave her a once-over. Twice.
...garage. Not that you have a car."
Rude. Also not wrong. Still rude.
Unbothered, he leaned back against the doorway, arms crossed. “And for your kind of work? This area is a gold mine.”
She blinked. “Therapy?”
“Exactly.” His eyes gleamed in the sunlight filtering through the cracked window. “A guy got murdered here just last week. Cold blood.”
Red flag. Huge one. Waving right in her face. 4K
He leaned in, like this was the best sales pitch in the world. “Low-cost living, high trauma. Gym down the street full of men and women with emotional damage and zero coping skills. Gangsters, goons, unhealed childhoods. You’re surrounded by walking case studies. Play it smart, you’ll be cashing in.”
Y/N nodded slowly, while her mind spun faster than the cracked ceiling fan above.
Twenty-four floors above the crumbling city, Jungkook lounged in his leather chair, one boot resting casually on the windowsill. In his tattooed hand, a glass of dark liquor swirled as neon lights flickered across his face, cutting shadows into the sharp angles of his jaw. The skyline blinked like it owed him money.
Things were going too well.
“They’re celebrating, Taehyung,” he muttered, watching the grainy feed on the screen. His enemy, Brad's crew, hooting around crates like they’d just unlocked military-grade loot in a video game. “Those dumbasses think they scored premium Russian stock.”
Taehyung scoffed. “Premium? Bro, I wouldn’t trust those guns to shoot a water balloon from two feet. They jam if you sneeze near ’em.”
“Exactly,” Jungkook grinned, cruel and gleaming. “Third-grade polymer, stuffed with recycled metal, painted like they’ve seen war. And the cherry on top? They paid for it with a loan… from a Shell company under my false name. 50% interest rate. But of course, they don’t know that yet.”
Taehyung raised a brow, smirking. “Using your money to buy your fake guns to wage war against you. That’s fucking Shakespearean.”
“Nah,” Jungkook said, sipping slow, “that’s just business with extra glitter.”
A waitress dressed skimpily slid by, carrying whiskey and dead dreams. No one looked at her. The room was full of better distractions: drugs, drinks, bodies, and sin. But for Jungkook, the real high came from watching stupid men dig their own graves with polished shovels.
He rewound the video. One of Brad's men held a rifle to the light, nodding like it was divine. Jungkook hit record. “Make sure we film the moment these toys jam on them. I want a full fucking highlight reel. Send it to them with a fruit basket later.”
Taehyung snorted. “Operation Dumbass Deluxe in full swing.”
“Oh yeah,” Jungkook said, voice low and smug. “And get this...before they took the guns, they signed a supply agreement. Buried clause, bottom line, unread. They basically sold me the rights to two coastal cities if they default.”
“You’re kidding.”
“They won’t read it until it’s already mine.”
Silence fell, heavy, the kind that comes just before gunshots or bad decisions.
Taehyung chuckled. “You’re a bastard.”
Jungkook smiled slow and shark-like. “But an efficient one.”
He turned back to the window. The city looked small from up here. Like something he could fold and put in his pocket.
“Double the security on the west blocks. When these idiots realize the guns don’t work, they’ll panic. Try to retaliate...fast and dirty.”
“Landmines or snipers?”
“Both. And a drone. I want a drone hovering over them playing circus music when they try to fire those guns.”
Taehyung was still laughing when he left the room.
Jungkook stayed behind, watching the skyline like a man admiring his own reflection. This city ran on blood and bad decisions, and he owned both.
The floor below thumped with bass and bodies. His men were getting high on power, flesh, and illusions. But he? He got high on control.
And somewhere, way across the city, a young therapist with a cracked phone, student debts, and a chip on her shoulder was signing a lease.
Did she know the building sat on the edge of a war zone?
Did she know her future clients included half the city’s most broken criminals?
Not yet. Would it change her mind if she knew her place was built on the hotspot of an active volcano dressed as a human?
I’ve been working on a Dramione fic & I think it’s almost done! This will be my first fic on Tumblr. Also, I mostly do Harry Potter fics but feel free to request any fan art & I’ll do my best to post a drawing of it.
Here’s a little snippet from what I have so far:
“Oh, finally,” he sneered, staring at her. “I was looking everywhere for you.”
“Of course you were! And I bet I know what you want to talk about,” Hermione whispered harshly, turning around to face Draco. “All you ever want to talk about is us!”
Draco’s face registered hurt and then quickly switched back to his usual sneer. “So? You’re scared to talk about it at all,” he muttered, leaning forward so that Hermione could feel his hot breath on her cheek. “Are you scared of me, darling?”
A;N: So, this ended up being a little darker than the first part. I want to warn you now that the first part of this fic is not going to be the nicest. I will highlight it so you know where to skip reading if you have any particular triggers. I always want you guys to be safe and well. So here are some links to a place you can talk to a professional. This link is to my personal ask box, so if you need to talk to me you can. Please stay safe babies.  xo Lau
Listen to me.           Series Masterlist.            Main Masterlist.
*TRIGGER WARNING*
“Mike?” Â
You spoke sleepily, your voice tinged with sleep and confusion a slight slur on the tip of your tongue. “What are you doing here?” You asked, wiping the sleep from the inner corner of your eye. “I came for my girl. Only to find her already in bed with another fucking guy.” He slurred, waving his arms about as he gripped a forty of beer. Well he’s clearly had a great night. You shivered as he advanced towards you, his face contorted in anger. “It’s all your fault.” He shouted, his breath washing over you. The smell of stale cigarettes and sweat seeped towards you as you coughed, stepping backwards into the dim suite. “What’s my fault Mike? If I remember correctly you’re the one who left me high and fucking dry? Cause what? You wanted to propose to someone else?!” You whispered back, crossing your arms across your chest as you covered yourself, his drunken eyes wandering over your chest. “You fucking jinxed me you bitch! She fucking said no!” You stopped a smile from crossing your face as he continued to walk towards you. “Can you blame her Mike? You proposed to her after you’d been seeing both of us for god knows how long?” You caught your breath as you heard Stiles shuffle in the bed behind you. “She said no cause apparently we’re not looking for the same thing. She wants commitment, how much more committed could I be? I asked her to marry me. You even said it was a good idea.” His normally grey eyes were dark, even in the low light streaming from the hallway. Â
“Mike, you shouldn’t be here. I didn’t invite you. If you want to talk, find someone that cares.” You brushed him off, walking to the phone as you picked it up. “I’m going to call security. If you don’t leave you will be arrested.” You warned him as he drank, wiping his mouth as he pulled his tie loose from his neck, his face growing redder as he walked into the room. “I blame you for all of this Gwen. If you hadn’t told me to ask her then I wouldn’t be here. You brought this on yourself.” He stumbled towards you, his long legs bringing him closer to you in an instant as you flattened yourself against the wall. If he gets close enough I can slink past him and run into the hall. Maybe someone else will call security. Your brain was thrown into overdrive as he pinned you to the wall, his hands clamping over your shoulder. “I came back for you Gwen, I see now how much of a mistake I made.” His mood switched, the nauseating stench of beer seeping from his open mouth as he hovered over you. “I know you still want me Gwen, I can see it in your eyes.” You pressed your lips together, suppressing a scream as you scrambled with the keys on the hotel phone. “Are you actually trying to call security on me?” His eyes flickered to the phone in your hand, the light up keys a dead giveaway in the dark room. “I told you I would.” You spat, trying to push back against his strong grip. The glass of the forty dug into your neck, his fingers still gripping it as he pushed you to the wall. “That was a mistake Gwen. But we all make them.” He cooed, running his fingers through the tendrils of your hair as you panted. “You make me sick Mike.” Â
You managed to push against him, dropping quickly out of his grip as you pressed the button for the front desk, a number you had memorised. “Hello, sorry someone has broken into my room and he’s threatening me.” You rushed as a woman picked up the phone, her voice light even in the early hour. “What room are you in Miss?” She asked, the sound of clicking keys on the other side of the receiver. “2-” You were cut off as Mike came up behind you, his long arms wrapping around your torso as he ripped the phone from your hands. “Sorry this was all a misunderstanding.” he spoke into the receiver as he tossed the phone back into the room, a loud crack echoing through the suite as it smashed against a far wall. “Mike, when will you get it, I’m not interested.” You almost screamed, your heart racing against your chest as he picked you up off the ground, his tall frame overpowering you as he dragged you from the hallway. “When will you get it Princess. We all know your daddies super rich. Why do you think I was so interested in you?” He breathed as he pulled you, his fingers digging red half-moons into your skin. Of course. “He’d never give you a cent.” You spat, scrambling as you tried to free yourself from his grip. He finally stopped, spinning you as he pressed you to the wall again, his face lowly illuminated by the strip lighting from the hallway. “That’s why you’re going to make him Princess.” you shuddered at the nickname, his voice making your skin crawl. Â
A smirk rippled across his face, twisting his normally handsome features as he closed the gap between the two of you, his lips almost ghosting over you. You screwed your eyes shut as bile rose in your throat, his breath washing over you as you heard something fly past your ear, the sound of skin hitting skin as bone crunched. What the hell? Your eyes flew open as you saw Stiles by your side, Mike a foot away from you as he clutched his cheek, blood pouring from his lip. “Stiles-” You choked as tears fell from your eyes, Stiles’ fists balled by his side. “I’m so sorry Gwen.” He spoke softly, his arms reaching out to you as he pulled you to his chest. Tears blurred your vision as you crumbled into his arms, your nose pressed hard against his chest. “I’m so sorry it took me so long.” He spoke again, his words muffled by your hair as sobs wracked your chest. “Who the fuck is this cunt?!” Mike screamed, your thoughts momentarily ripped from the situation at hand as you unwrapped yourself from Stiles’ grip. “This is Stiles. My date.” You spoke quietly, hate lacing your words as you glared over Mike. His suit was wrinkled and three sizes too large, a large stain down the front of it. What were you thinking when you started dating him? You thought to yourself as Mike stood shakily, his hands never leaving his lip. “So, you decide to whore it up? You slept with him already? I didn’t realise it was so easy to get in your pants Gwen. You really do open your legs for almost anybody don’t you? Is it for daddy's attention?” He chuckled as Stiles moved behind you, his lithe body surrounding yours as he pulled you back, taking your place as he moved towards Mike almost silently. Â
“Mike. I think it’s time I show you the door.” Stiles spoke calmly, something menacing in his voice. This was a new side of Stiles, something cold you’d never expected in someone so warm. Something cracked in the air as you tensed, your body on edge as you watched the scene unfurl. “You think she would go out with someone like you? She’s doing you to make me jealous. Who even are you? You’re a nobody.” Mike laughed, his eyes widening as Stiles moved quicker than you could comprehend, his arms raising before he brought them down on Mike’s shoulders. He clattered to the ground, his air whooshing from his chest as his head cracked against the carpeted ground. He still laughed. “You’re protecting her? How sweet. I hope you protected yourself against her, who knows what she’s got.” His eyes locked with yours as you scowled, your feelings unhurt by the pale haired man. “Do you think you’re going to hurt me Mike? Nothing you could do would hurt me.” You laughed, your anger boiling in your blood as Mike grinned. “No Princess, I wouldn’t hurt you.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you stood, shivering in the hallway of your suite. “But I might hurt you.” Stiles spoke quickly, pulling Mike by the collar as he landed a blow on his cheek, Mike finally falling unconsciously to the floor. “Stiles?” You whispered as he turned, a dark look in his golden eyes as he rushed over to you. His face flooded with relief as he saw you unharmed, your fists balled by your side. Â
*END OF TRIGGER WARNING*
“Thank you.” You barely breathed as he pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he kissed your head. “I didn’t know what to do. I panicked, if he hurt you I am so sorry.” His words were rushed, something heavy in them as he spoke. You smiled as you pulled away from him. “Nothing he could do will hurt me. I know what kind of man he is. If you could even call him a man. Only a boy would do something so stupid.” You looked over the unconscious guy as you looked back at Stiles, his eyes searching yours as he wiped something from your cheek. “I’m fine. I swear.” You blinked slowly, your eyes staying closed as you slumped into him again. “You promise?” You nodded, a small unspoken promise lingering in the air. “He scared me I guess, but I knew you were here. You made me feel safe.” Your words were just a breath as you breathed in his scent, his skin sticking to yours as you pulled away. “It’s not my job, but I want you to feel safe with me Gwen.” He smiled, the warmth returning to his eyes as he looked at you. “I do Stiles. But look, as cute as your butt is maybe you should get dressed. It doesn’t look good on me if you’re naked and there’s an unconscious guy in my doorway.” You laughed, stifling a sniffle as he nodded. “I’ll get dressed when you give me back my shirt.” He pulled at the shirt you were wearing, your lips trapped between your teeth as you shrugged. “Fine. You can have your shirt back I guess.” You smiled, shakily standing on your tiptoes as you placed a chaste kiss on his lips, heading into the main room as you dressed again, pulling your dress on from before. Â
“Don’t you have a full suitcase over there?” Stiles asked as he dressed, his fingers deftly buttoning up his shirt. “Oh yeah, I guess I didn’t think.” You sighed, heading towards your suitcase as a knock came on the door. “Who do you think that is?” Stiles asked as you shrugged, heading towards the door. “Miss Kincaid?” You opened the door, to find two older men dressed in the hotels security uniform at your door. “I see you got my call. Well I managed to sort it.” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair as Stiles appeared behind you. “We understand that Miss but we’re still going to have to escort your date from the hotel. There have been several calls registering a complaint. As happy as we are to have you here, unfortunately Mr Stilinski is no longer welcome at the Watergate.” An aging bald man spoke, reaching for the door. Â
“I think the fuck not. If you’re not aware he’s my guest. He protected me and I’m pretty sure that means he’s entitled to stay here.” You rushed your words, trying to get them to reason with you. “Look Miss, as much as we appreciate what Mr Stilinski has done for you, we cannot let him stay. We’ll be here to look after you, we can assure you that.” The other guard spoke as you shook your head. “What you can do, is take the man who actually assaulted me away. But not Stiles.” Stiles’ hand wrapped over your shoulder as you spoke, his body moving past yours in the small doorway. “It’s fine Gwen, honestly. I’ll go, I should probably head back to my apartment. These guys will keep you safe.” He smiled as he kissed your cheek, one of the security guards walking into the room to grab Mike. “I don’t mean to pull that card, but you are aware who my father is?” You dredged up the card you hated pulling but you had to get them to listen. “He’s the one who made the executive order.” The bald man spoke as you shook your head. “He knows?” They nodded as they moved Mike.
“He was called as soon as you called the front desk.” They spoke as you rolled your eyes. “Of course, he was called.” You looked at Stiles as he stood in the hallway, his hair ruffled, suit untucked. “Stiles you don’t have to do this.” You pleaded as he winked. “It’s okay, I’ll text you all night okay?” He asked as you nodded. “I won’t let them kick you out for protecting me, after all you did for me how could I let them do this to you.” You pleaded with Stiles to stay as he walked towards you. “As long as I know you’re safe, I don’t mind. I don’t want to cause anymore issues.” He smiled, pushing the hair from your eyes. “Okay?” His brows raised as he spoke, your eyes avoiding his. “It’s not fair.” You whined, gripping the door. “I know but I don’t want to ruin your night anymore.” His eyes crinkled as he stepped back, turning to the guards. “No offence, but I can totally see myself out. I’ll speak to you soon okay Gwen?” You nodded as you smiled weakly. “Talk soon Stiles.” He waved as he made his way down the corridor, heading towards where he thought the elevators were. He was barely out of sight when you heard him running back the way he went, waving as he passed the door, heading the way the elevators actually were. “As you were gentlemen.” He smiled as he jumped over Mike, his smile wide as he disappeared around the corner. A chuckle left your lips before you gave the guards a pointed look closing the door swiftly in their faces. Â
You leaned against the door, rifling through your thoughts as you pushed off, heading back into the room. Of course, they called him. You rolled your eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed as you flopped down onto the soft comforter. I don’t really want to be here. Not alone anyway. You pouted as you stared at the ceiling, your hands shoved behind your head as you laced your fingers into your hair. Tonight, was so wonderful until Mike showed up. He ruined everything. Your fingers gripped tighter into your hair as you let a tear escape your eye, the cool liquid running over your burning cheeks as you groaned. You lay there, tracing the patterns in the ceiling for a while, numb to the goings on around you. A yawn cracked through the air as you sat up, looking over at the kettle on the side, your mind yearning for coffee. If you have a coffee now, you are not going to sleep. You pushed the thought from your mind as you stood, walking around to pull the comforter down, wrapping yourself in the material, the cotton cold in comparison to Stiles’ skin. You shivered, closing your eyes as the red numbers glared at you from the clock on the bedside table. The weight of the night crashed on top of you as you watched the numbers tick forward, your eyes wide open as you sighed. Fuck this. I’m leaving.
Scrambling out of your sheets, you pulled your phone off the nightstand, searching through your contacts as you found Stiles’ number. Clicking the green call button, you sighed, waiting as it rang out. You rolled your neck, letting the bones crack as you tried again, heading over to your suitcase. After three rings he picked up, his voice light as he spoke. “Didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.” He chuckled as you smiled. “Well, what can I say, if I have a date I like a quick turnaround. I don’t really want to stay here anymore. Where are you?” You asked, bundling your clothes into the open suitcase, chucking things from your vanity in there too. “I’m near the garage in midtown, I need to pick up my jeep.” He sighed as you spoke. “How fast do you walk?” You laughed, his laugh hearty even over the phone. “It’s been like an hour?” He questioned as you looked at the clock, realising that you had only been alone for a while, not the minutes it had felt like. “Well then that’s fair enough, I can’t sleep.” You paused, pushing the last of your vanity into the open case, not really caring if you were haphazard. “I think I'm going to sleep for a week, tonight's been-” The line went muffled, his voice coming clearer than before. “-an adventure. Sorry I almost dropped my phone, there was this really cute dog and I wanted to touch it.” he admitted as you burst into laughter, your eyes watering as your lungs hurt. “You’re too precious.” You began, zipping your case shut. “How about breakfast? At the diner? It’s like 7am anyway.” You waited as the line muffled again. “Stiles are you in a dog park? Cause there is no way you are seeing this many cute dogs.” Pulling your case from the stand you gave yourself a once over in the mirror, realising you should probably get changed.
I’m not doing that. “Sorry, I did see another cute dog, his name was Wright and his owner was a Mets fan and I really really wanted to pet the dog-” He paused taking a deep breath, before launching into another fast-paced sentence. “-and before you say anything, yes, I’m a Mets fan, a long suffering one at that and all dogs are cute dogs.” You held your breath as he talked, finally letting it out as he finished his sentence. “But yeah, breakfast sounds good, I got to pick up Roscoe and then I’ll meet you there?” He breezed as you picked up your case, heading for the door. “I’ll be there asap. If you beat me, get us a pitcher of coffee?” You asked nicely, smiling even though he couldn’t see you. “Of course. See you soon!” You said your goodbyes as you shut the door behind you, ridding yourself of the smell of alcohol and sweat. You wandered down the hall, losing yourself in the pattern of the carpet, your mind preoccupied with the thoughts of Stiles and waffles. The elevator dinged as it arrived at your floor, your cheeks flushing red as you remembered the taste of his lips and the feeling of his skin against yours as you stepped inside, a light song playing on the speakers. Clicking the button for the lobby you descended down, already calling for a cab. You twirled the keys to your room in your fingers as you exited the elevator, dropping them on the front desk as you waved goodbye to the Watergate. Â
Climbing in the cab you avoided the drivers looks, knowing fine well it was out of place that you were in a bridesmaid dress with dishevelled hair at 7’oclock in the morning. “Good night?” He asked as you nodded politely, not really in the mood for talking. He leered awkwardly as you covered yourself, using the mirror in your purse to fix the mascara that had flaked onto your cheeks. “You look great sweetheart; your date was very lucky.” The driver continued as you made your way to the diner you first met Stiles in. “Thanks.” You were curt, hoping he would get the hint to leave you alone as you gripped your purse tighter. Your skin crawled as he looked at you through the rear-view mirror. He didn’t say a word for the rest of the trip, his eyes solely trained on the road as you buried yourself in your phone, Stiles’ messages putting a smile on your face. Â
Gwen: This driver is creepy. Â
Stiles :Do I need to show you a picture of Wright? He was a very good dog, named after one of the greatest baseball players in Mets history. Â
Gwen: Did you really take photos of someone else's dog?!
Stiles: Maybe…… Well yeah of course I did! The owner was sympathetic. Here I can show you if you need a smile?! And it’s totally not a video I swear.
Gwen: Stiles! You can’t just go around picking up peoples dogs? *on an unrelated note that is one very cute dog*
Stiles: HE WAS SO SOFT. I ASKED FIRST THOUGH. *on an unrelated note I have a pitcher of coffee with your name on it* Â
Gwen: I’ll be with you in 5! Promise not to drink it all without me though! ;) Â
Stiles: I don’t make promises I can’t keep ;)
You smiled to yourself as you looked up from your phone, asking the driver how much longer it was going to be. He barely answered you, his eyes focused on the road ahead. Staring out the window you watched the foggy DC morning unfold, the sun peeking out from behind the clouds as you pulled up to the diner. You caught glance of a familiar dark-haired guy in the booth by the window, suit wrinkled in the early hour as you paid the driver. “Thank you.” You were polite at least as you grabbed your suitcase from the trunk, closing it before the cab pulled away hastily. Good fucking riddance. You flipped the driver off as he sped into the distance before smoothing over the skirt of your dress, your fingers nervously fixing your hair as you leant down to grab your suitcase. Your eyes caught Stiles’ as he looked out the window, his warm honey brown eyes boreing into yours as you smiled, pulling your suitcase behind you as you entered the diner, the smell of bacon and syrup filling your senses. You smiled as you slid into the pleather booth, Stiles’ smile mirroring your own. “Morning sunshine.” He laughed, reaching for an empty mug to pour you a drink, your fingers already grabbing for the ceramic container. “Morning.” You sighed, looking out the window, watching the crowds grow denser as they busied themselves getting ready for work. Â
“How are you doing?” Stiles asked, his eyes sympathetic as his long fingers reached for your own, his warmth encompassing you quickly. “Better. I had a cry, I felt numb for a while but I'm doing better. Coffee helps” You laughed nervously as he drummed against the cracking surface of the table. “Is there anything I can do? I don’t want to see you hurting Gwen.” He trailed off, his usually upturned lips pointing down, his eyes solemn. “I don’t really want to talk about what happened. I just wanna be here in this moment and hear more about you. Tell me about your friends. Please, hell you can even talk about the Mets.” You giggled, your eyes drooping as the sun brightened. You should’ve stayed at the hotel and slept. Stiles’ jaw hung open, his brows high above his eyes as he gripped your fingers tighter. “You’re actually the perfect woman. I won’t bore you with the Mets though, I could go on and on. I can tell you about my friends? You know Scott right?” You nodded, vaguely remembering the story Stiles had told you about him, that first day you met. “Well, he’s just got engaged. As of last night, he’s marrying a girl he’s been crazy about since high school.” He paused as you sipped your coffee, his hand still holding yours across the small booth. “They weren’t always together and at one point it seemed like they never would be. But then she woke up!” He finished as you shot him a look of confusion. Â
“Woke up?” You asked, your tongue running over your lips as you looked at him. He ran his hand through his hair, his eyes darting down to his knees, something catching in his throat. “Yeah, Allison nearly didn’t make it through high school. She fell into a coma after a bad car accident-” Something in you knew that Stiles wasn’t telling you the whole truth but you didn’t want to push him for answers. “-but when she woke up, I swear I’ve never seen Scott happier.” You smiled, liking the way he talked of his best friend as if he was his brother. “So how did he propose?!” You pushed, veering away from the darker side of conversation, your fingers linking with his. “I don’t know he just rang me and started shouting with joy, I think I heard something to do with fire and a crossbow?” You snorted, the coffee in your mouth almost spluttering over him as you scoffed. “Was he maybe under the influence? I mean to get me anywhere near a crossbow I’d need to be absolutely hammered.” You laughed as he smiled. “Nah, Allison was a competitive shooter. He probably wanted to show her how much he listens by shooting an arrow or something.” He shrugged, smiling again. “That’s sweet. But surely Scott isn’t your only friend?” You pressed as he looked sheepish. “I have a few, none in the city though, I don’t really talk to people here. They’re all across the country.” You cocked your head to the side. “Well I don’t really talk to people here either. My friends are all at University across the world. Perks of boarding school.” You sighed, raising the mug to your lips again. Â
“Boarding school?” He asked, his brows knitted low over his eyes as you nodded, taking a deep gulp of your drink. “Yeah, it’s kind of a funny story.” You started, always hating the next part. “I went to Knightley, it’s a private school. You know how I got so upset that my dad was called?” You waited for him to nod as he poured you both another cup of coffee. “So anyway, my dad is maybe you know the owner of the Watergate...” You avoided Stiles’ eyes as you sipped at the scalding bitter liquid in your cup. “He’s the head of this big corporation, he owns a chain of hotels and people like to use me to get close to him. They think if they get with me, then they can get money from him.” You pressed your lips together as you looked up, Stiles’ face completely unchanged by the news. He paused slightly as he shrugged. “So that’s why Mike was such an ass. If you think this changes anything between us then it doesn’t. I don’t care if you’re dad’s a zillionaire. He could be the president for all I care!” your mouth hung open at the sudden outburst, his words settling over you like a thick fog. “But we only met because you needed money for college-” He silenced you, his fingers brushing over your lips. “Semantics! Besides, I realised that I don’t need to be paid to hang out with you.” He blushed, his cheekbones hollowing as he drank his coffee. So he likes you. For real. You giggled at his words, a giddiness rising in your chest. “Thanks Stiles. It means more than you think!” You flashed him a smile as the waitress made her way over, her dark brown hair swinging in a ponytail. Â
“You two are back awfully early!” She sang, your brain only just clicking on that she was the kind one that offered you an escape if the blind date didn’t work out. Dumbass. You looked up to her smiling, lifting your cup. “We couldn’t stay away from the world class coffee!” You joked awkwardly as she laughed. “Why thank you, what can I get you guys?” She asked as you looked over the menu, your fingers coming away from Stiles’. “Can I have a minute? I can almost guarantee he knows what he wants.” She nodded as you returned to the laminated sheet, your stomach growling at the thought of any of the food contained on it. “Can I have a short stack of pancakes with bacon and syrup and another large pot of coffee?” He batted his long eyelashes as she jotted it down in her notebook. “What about you sweetie?” She asked as you sat there stunned. “Um, let’s go with the Belgian waffles with compote and a side of eggs?” She nodded as you turned to Stiles, her ponytail swinging as she walked back to the kitchen. “You’re going to steal all my coffee?!” He mocked shock as you nodded, your smile faltering slightly. “Of course, I am!” You laughed as he reached for both your hands. “You look like you need cheered up. Are you sure there is nothing I can do?” Â
You pretended to mull it over as you shook your head. “Unless you have major connections to like a Ghost team at the CIA that could take Mike out for good then probably not?” You looked at him hopefully as he shook his head. “I know the director of the FBI personally but that’s about it. I mean she’s only like a few months older than us and she’s all for feminism but I’m pretty sure Director Hoban would be less than impressed if I got a task force to kill someone who pretty much doesn’t matter in the long run.” You sighed as you smiled, realising his thumbs were rubbing semi circles into the thin skin on the back of your hands. “Would it help if I said he was the son of the senator?” you asked, your eyes widening as he shook his head. “Too high stakes. Plus, don’t zillionaires have like personal security?” You nodded. “My dad has this new guy called Mitch, doesn’t talk much, but I doubt he’d be much of an assassin.” You joked as you tried to push away from the conversation, your stomach growling. “I’d make such a bad assassin. I may be FBI trained, but taking lives isn’t my field of expertise.” Stiles admitted as you laughed. “What’s your expertise then?” You probed, pouring the last of the coffee into your cup as you wrapped your lips around the rim of the mug. “Profiling.” He responded, ready to launch into an explanation as the waitress returned, her arms stacked with plates as you thanked her profusely, your eyes widening as you looked over the feast you and Stiles had accumulated around you. Â
“Thank you again!” You called to the waitress as you turned to Stiles who was already shovelling bacon into his mouth like it was more important than air itself. “So profiling? Isn’t that kind of like Criminal Minds?” You asked as Stiles nodded, his fork never hitting the plate as he continued to stuff himself with pancakes. He looks like a hamster. A cute one at that. “Yeah, kind of, do you need me to explain?” He asked as you shook your head, sliding the waffle from your fork to your lips. Chocolate never fails to make me feel better. “Not really, all I need to know is that you’re super smart!” You smiled, the food helping lift your mood immeasurably. “Most people would argue I’m maybe a bit distractible, I’ve heard the word spastic thrown around a lot. I don’t disagree with those claims though. I have my moments.” He smirked, winking at you as you scraped the last of your eggs onto your cutlery. “How about we tell jokes?” You suggested, knowing that with Stiles’ sense of humour you were bound to cheer up soon. “Do you want to go first?” He asked as you shook your head. “Oh no Stilinski you’re not getting out of it that easily. I have to trump your joke, you need to set the mood.” You slyly reached onto his plate, plucking a piece of pancake from the syrup it sat in. “You’re the worst. I’m taking some of your waffle because of that.” He ripped your waffle, pushing it into the syrup before licking his fingers clean. Â
Something within you twanged at the innocent act, something about his tongue moving over his fingers had you on the edge of your seat. Calm down are you in heat or something?! You steadied yourself, adjusting the straps of your dress as you crossed your legs, Stiles’ eyes gazing over your chest. “Eyes up here buddy, hit me with your best joke.” You challenged him, watching as he stroked an imaginary beard, his eyes staring out the window. A moment passed before he turned to you, his eyes lit up like a Christmas fair. “How do you feel when there is no coffee?” He asked as you shrugged, a smile already playing on your lips. “Depresso.” You stifled a laugh, turning the joke into a challenge. “Good play Stilinski. How about we make it a challenge? First to laugh has to pay for breakfast?” He nodded, his look suddenly devilish as his eyes bore into yours. “Deal, your play.” He sat back, pushing his plate away as he laced his fingers behind his head. “I have to warn you though, you won’t win. I am like steel, I don’t laugh at anything.” You nodded slowly, your brows high in disbelief as he smirked. “Like steel beams Gwen.” Cocky. You leant forwards on your elbows, lacing your fingers beneath your chin as you stared in his amber eyes, your brain searching for the perfect joke. “Okay, I got one for you. What website did Chewbacca get arrested for starting?” You watched as Stiles fought a smile, his foundation cracking as his eyes watered. “Wookie Leaks.” You finished as Stiles brought his hands out from behind his head as he covered his face. Â
“Are you cheating Mieczyslaw?” You questioned, poking at his hands as he straightened himself out. “Of course not. I told you! You can’t break me!” He reiterated as you drank yet another cup of coffee. “We’ll see about that, give me one moment, I’ll be right back.” You paused the conversation as you walked to the bathroom, ignoring the stares you were getting. Hate to say I told you so, but it’s cause of the dress. You let them stare as you headed into the solitary bathroom, giving yourself a once over in the mirror. Most of your makeup had melted off your face, the remnants barely clinging on as you fixed your hair, pulling it from the messy bun you had shoved it in. You licked over your lips as you raked your fingers through the loose curls, your eyes reddening from the lack of sleep. Pee and then back to Stiles. You held your head high as you walked back through the diner, your heels clicking on the checkerboard flooring as you spotted Stiles flicking through his phone. “Sorry about that!” You apologised as he shook it off. “Don’t worry about it, I was waiting for you to come back so I could go. Please hold.” He laughed, standing quickly to stretch out his limbs, his shirt untucked as his happy trail made an appearance. He ducked towards you, his lips grazing your cheek as he wandered through the diner, unpassed by the stares. You should check your phone. You thought to yourself as you dug through your purse, sighing as you tried to unlock the screen. Phone died, go figure. You chucked it back in your purse as you stared out the window, thinking of what you were going to tell Nikki, she’d want to hear all about this. Â
“Hey.” You heard Stiles speak from behind you as he walked into view, settling in the space opposite you once more. “Hey” You said softly, sleep tinging your words as you yawned, your throat cracking as you did so. “You didn’t sleep either did you?” You shook your head, wiping at the sleep that was collecting in the corner of your eye. “The coffee isn’t even helping me right now.” You half chuckled, trailing off as you yawned again. “Maybe we should call it a night?” He questioned, his lips full as he somewhat pouted. “Not yet, I need to break you first. You’re like steel beams, right?” You joked as he nodded. “You have a good memory even when you’re sleepy.” He cooed, his fingers brushing over your cheek as he caught an eyelash. “I couldn’t tell you my own middle name but I can tell you the law that prohibits you sitting on private property.” You shrugged as he dropped his hand, his fingers brushing the skin of your arm. You shivered at the light touch, your eyes crinkling as he took your hands in your own. “Gwen, are you just trying to waste time so you don’t have to go home?” You shook your head, pulling away from him as you crossed your arms across your chest. Â
“I want to spend time wit-” You paused to yawn as Stiles gave you a knowing look. “Look do you blame me? Last night should never have happened, Mike came along and ruined everything. What if they didn’t arrest him? What if he comes to my house? He knows where I live Stiles-” His hands wrapped around your arms as he shook you, trying to stop you from spiralling further as the tears fell from your eyes. “I thought I was okay. I thought I was stronger than this.” You spoke through muffled cries, your hands flying to brush away the tears you did not want to shed. You are better than this Gwen. You don’t feel it. You lied to yourself as Stiles’ eyes softened, his hands gripping at the tendrils of hair around his face. “I mean it’s not like anything even happened. Right? So I’m getting myself wound up over nothing. Honestly, I’ll be fine.” You resolved with yourself, thickly swallowing your tears as you sniffed. “I’m just over tired. I need to go to bed.” You laughed lightly, the tears still falling as you looked at Stiles as he nodded. “You’re not just over tired, you’ve been through a lot. No one expects you to act as though it never happened Gwen. Look I’m staying with you okay? I don’t want you going home by yourself. Not after last night.” He spoke softly, guiding your face to look at his. Â
“I don’t expect you to be okay. But I can try and help you.” You nodded weakly as he signalled for the waitress, your head buried in your hands as she wandered over. “Can I pay the check?” He asked as you shot him a look of distain. “I didn’t win though?” You spoke curtly, reaching for your purse as he grabbed your hand. “I did lose, when you were in the bathroom I was almost peeing myself at the Wookie joke. Star Wars is my weakness.” You gave him a pointed look as the waitress nodded. “It’s true, people were staring.” She smiled as you relaxed back a bit, your hand still hovering over your purse. “You promise?” You asked Stiles, remembering what he had said to you earlier. I don’t make promises I can’t keep. He gave you a weak smile as he spoke. “I promise.” You leant back in the booth, pulling your purse over your shoulder as you grabbed your suitcase. “I’ll be outside, I think I need the fresh air. Maybe then I can wake up enough to tell you where I live.” you chuckled, your voice still thick with tears. “Sounds like a plan.” He smiled as you headed for the door, the 11am sun hitting your skin as you revelled in it’s cool warmth. Your hair stood on end as the DC wind picked up, rushing over your body as you shrank against yourself, wishing you had a jacket. “Here, you’re freezing.” Stiles spoke behind you as he laid his suit jacket over your shoulders, the remains of his warmth on your shoulders as you relaxed into it. Â
“Why women never wear jackets is completely beyond me.” He uttered as he picked up your case, leading you from the diner. “It’s hard to get a jacket that’s warm that goes with most clothes. Or you know clothes with pockets.” You walked in pace with him as you wandered down the street, no idea what you were looking for. “I heard they do fake pockets on women's jeans?! Fockets? What’s the point?!” You shook your head as Stiles went off about the incredulous notion that women don’t need pockets. “Who knows! So, they can make money by selling us purses? I guess? I don’t know, maybe it’s just a whole ploy!” You bantered with him as he laced his fingers with your own as you looked at him. His hair was more than just brown, flecks of gold and copper weaved through his strands, the base of it thick and sticking out at every angle. His lashes were long, throwing shade over his cheekbones as you smiled, barely listening to him as you talked. He’s a little bit more than just good looking. You chuckled as he told you jokes, his presence surrounding you like a hug you had needed for a very long time. Your hand fit into his perfectly, his long fingers lapping over yours as you walked in synchronicity. His long legs moved faster than yours and you were tripping trying to keep up with him as he stopped abruptly. “You should’ve said I was walking too fast, I know I’m taller than you so I don’t mind walking slower.” He spoke softly, his thumb circling over your thumb as you set off walking again. “Thanks Stiles. Not just for this, but for everything.” You smiled, ducking your head as he grinned. “Don’t worry about it, seriously.” You nodded, swallowing as you two descended into a comfortable silence. You walked maybe half a block before he stopped again, digging into his trousers to produce a set of keys with a small tarnished Yoda on the keychain. “You have a Yoda on your keys?” You touched the battered Yoda, the cool metal on your fingertips. “Yeah, my dad got it for me when he handed over the keys to Roscoe.” He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as he nodded towards the cornflower blue jeep parked on the sidewalk. Â
“So, Roscoe was your dads car?” You asked as you trailed your fingers over the dents in the hood, your nails fitting in slashes on the body of it. “Nah, he was my mom’s.” He shouted, a melancholic look in his eyes as he rounded the car, climbing inside as he reached over to unlock your door. “He’s got character.” you laughed as you slid into the peeling seat, your arm reaching over to pull the door shut. “He’s had a long life. I refuse to let him die.” He laughed, pulling a macho face as he flexed his muscles. A giggle rose through your body like bubbles from a soda can as your eyes narrowed. “You probably should know I live in the Shay, apartment 3b.” You yawned, settling into the dented seat as Stiles gave you a pointed look. “You live in The Shay and you come to this craphole diner?” He asked, looking at you with a questioning look. “I don’t pay for my apartment. My dad does, I wanted somewhere more low key but he insisted. And my mom used to work at that diner. I spent a lot of time there when I was a kid. It’s where my mom met my dad.” You smiled, your hands brushing over the ring you wore on your right hand. “I wear her wedding band every single day.” You muttered as Stiles started up the engine. “I’m sorry Gwen. Looks like we have something in common.” He looked solemn as he reversed, before pulling out into the road. “Probably not as good as both being into knitting but it’s something!” You laughed as he smiled, the creases near his eyes becoming more pronounced as his hand automatically reached for yours. Â
“Probably not. Hey look, we’re going to hit peak traffic soon, why don’t you try and get some rest? There should be a pillow on the back seat?” He nodded back, a flannel blanket and a stormtrooper pillow coming into view as you looked onto the backseat. “Why do you have them in your car?” You asked as you pulled away from him, pulling the items onto your lap. “Sometimes I nap in my jeep when I can’t sleep. My roommate snores like crazy and I find this reminds me of somewhere I can actually relax.” He smiled, his eyes tracking the cars in front of you as you placed the pillow between yourself and the window. “I understand that, I grew up in hotels so I used to sleep in my mom's car, cause then I could actually be alone.” You gave him a sympathetic smile, reaching over to grab his hand. “Wake me when we get there?” You asked as he nodded, leaning over to kiss your cheek as you sat in traffic. “Of course.” He whispered as you closed your eyes, finally letting yourself relax after the night of hell you’d had. Â
Only 10 minutes later was Stiles waking you up, his hands gently pushing against your shoulders. “Gwen, we’re here?” He spoke softly as to not confuse you, his hands leaving your skin as you opened your eyes. “How long was I out?” you asked, your voice thick with sleep as you stretched out. “Maybe only 10 minutes, there wasn’t much traffic after all.” He laughed, his arm outstretched on the headrest behind you. “Well at least I got some sleep. I think most of all I’m just dying for a shower. I feel gross after all that drinking and then the whole thing with Mi-” He hushed you, pressing his fingers to your lips. “I understand that. But you can’t shower in the parking complex. We need to get you upstairs first!” He laughed as you nodded, pulling the handle to let yourself out the jeep. “3b it was right?” He asked, heading towards the trunk of the jeep. “Yep!” You sighed, heading through the glass doors to the lobby. You waved to the attendant, ushering Stiles through behind you, towards the elevators on your right. Â
The two of you rode the short trip in comfortable silence, the music of the elevator was the only thing you could hear, apart from Stiles’ breathing. Shower and sleep. You repeated to yourself as you felt your eyes droop again, a sigh leaving your lips as you leant against Stiles’ shoulder. “Not long now.” You told Stiles as he yawned, the elevator finally drawing to a close as you exited, heading down the hardwood floored hallway. “It’s been one hell of a night. Or morning. God, my wires are so crossed right now I can’t tell which way is up or down.” He laughed, carding his fingers through his hair as you fumbled for your keys. You pulled them out, slotting them in the door as you took your case from him. “Thank you for staying with me Stiles.” You grinned as you walked through the door, instantly kicking your stilettos off. “It’s not a problem. I told you, there's no need to thank me.” He walked through the door, awkwardly looking around your apartment. “Okay this beats my off-campus housing. This place is gorgeous” He breathed, fumbling to take his shoes off. “It’s ostentatious but for now it’s home.” you walked further in, heading up the spiral stair case to your room. “You coming Stiles?” You shouted, leaning over the railing as he stared out the floor to ceiling windows. “You can see the whole of DC here?!” He exclaimed excitedly, turning to look at you. “Yep!” You shouted back, heading over to your bed as you heard him clatter up the wrought iron steps. Â
“You’re lucky. I can view the Chinese restaurant across the street from my apartment.” He sat next to you nervously, his leg jittering as he wrung his hands. “Maybe one day we can trade.” you winked as he laughed. “Maybe, hey didn’t you say you needed a shower?” He asked as you nodded. You stood unwillingly, reaching behind you to unzip your dress. “I think you need one too.” you whispered as your dress fell to the floor, your eyes connecting with his. “I don’t think that’s a good idea-” You hushed him the same way he had done to you. “I want to.” You blinked slowly as he smiled, standing in front of you as he unhooked your bra. “Well then who am I to say no.” He shrugged as the chill air hit your exposed skin. “Which way?” He asked as he loosened his tie. You pointed to your left. “Through there, and to the right.” you called, his clothes falling to the floor as you walked after him. The sound of running water greeted you as you entered the steam filled room, Stiles’ hands finding your body as you walked through the door. “Are you sure?” He asked lowly, his arms bringing you closer to him as you nodded. “I’m sure.” He smiled, bringing your face to his as he kissed you, his lips tenderly moving over yours. “After last night, I wasn’t counting on us doing this again.” He whispered as he pulled away, leading you towards the shower. “I was.” you smiled, your eyes trailing over his muscular back. There was something quiet about him, a strength beneath the laugh, a coldness behind his warmth. But he cares. Â
You laughed as he stepped under the spray of water, his head recoiling as he spluttered. “You’re such a dork.” You slapped at his chest as he pulled you under, crushing your chest to his. “Yeah but you knew that already.” You nodded as you latched your arms around his neck, stepping under the water as you pressed your lips to his again. His tongue flickered over your lips slowly, begging for entrance as his hands danced over your waist, his fingertips making you quake against his touch. “I’m not fragile Stiles.” You pulled away, tightening his arms on yours as you brushed water from his cheek. “I know, but I need you to be sure this is what you want.” He asked again, water dripping from his eyelashes. “Would I have invited you into the shower if I wasn’t serious about it?” You questioned him as he bit his lip, feigning deep thought. “I guess not.” He shrugged, his palms flattening against your hips. “Well there you have it then.” You responded, pulling him to you as he kissed along your jawbone, his nose brushing your cheek as you breathed slowly. You lost yourself in the way his lips moved against you, the way his hands trailed patterns on your hips as his mouth headed south. He nibbled beneath your ear, the softest graze as his grip on you tightened. Â
Breathy moans left your lips as his nails raked along your skin, his mouth needy against the crook of your neck. You rolled against him, your need growing with every feather light touch. It bubbled beneath the surface of your skin and Stiles let it free his fingertips smoothing over the curve of your ass as he picked you up effortlessly. Good lord I never want this to end. Your head tipped back as he licked slowly across your collarbone, his fingers dipping between your thighs as he held you up. Your breathing stilled as he brushed along your folds, his rough fingers gliding over your clit. “Fuck” you breathed, your head spinning as he pressed against you, rubbing small circles on the sensitive area. Your muscles tensed as you rolled against him, wanting more than what he was giving you. “Is everything okay?” He asked as you whined, your body alight as he started fires within you. You nodded through gritted teeth, his fingers moving languidly over your needy core. He understood almost immediately as he dipped his fingers within you, scissoring them slowly. You mewled as he pushed further, spots within you igniting as he stroked within you. Your lips caught between your teeth as water hammered over your skin, every cell in your body screaming for release. Teeth clashed with skin as he grazed over your chest, his lips sucking your nipple between them as you sighed. “Stiles-” You choked out as his thumb caressed your clit; your muscles seizing as you clattered over the edge, your back surging towards him as your orgasm hit. Â
His name was like a prayer on your tongue, barely audible over the water as you shook. Your nails raked across his skin, your body falling slack as you crashed back against the wall. You dared to take a breath as you opened your eyes, watching as water cascaded over his face, the tracks highlighting his freckles. “Jesus” you laughed, a smile spreading across your face as he smiled. His fingers left yours as he lowered you, your feet shaky as you hit the slippery floor. “That good?” He asked, brushing your hair from your hot face. “Oh yeah, but I’m not done.” You smiled, pushing against his chest so you could balance yourself. You took a deep breath, swallowing thickly as your head spun. “I never said you were.” He chuckled lowly, his eyes oozing lust as he circled behind you, his hands gripping onto your hips. “No turning back now.” He spoke as you nodded, bracing your hands against the wall as he lined up with your entrance. Your breath stilled once more as he pushed forward, your eyes closing instinctively. He moaned in tandem with you; his hips pausing as you both adjusted. He didn’t wait long before pressing forwards, his cock hitting against a part of you that caused fireworks to spark in your veins. Fingers grazed along your spine as you moaned, his hips picking up pace in the enclosed shower. The water heightened your senses as you were aware of every movement. His groans were guttural as they fell from his lips, yours muffled as you buried your head in your hands. Â
The fire within you burned hotter as his fingers swept over your waist, your body now flush with his as he pressed kisses to the back of your neck. Your weary body faltered in his hold, his hips rocking you quicker to your finish as sleep ebbed in your mind. Your body tensed as his hands sought your own, your grip tight on his hands. “Stiles-” You moaned as he nodded. “I know, me too.” He moaned, his hips stammering against yours as he came, the feeling of his orgasm sparking your own as you fell from him, your body limp as it flooded your system. Your head spun, your eyes closed as you shook. Air flooded your lungs as you let out a strangled moan; your jaw hung slack as he stilled against you. Neither of you moved for a moment, simply stood where you were, letting the water flow over your bodies. He pulled your arms, turning you to him as he smoothed over your hair; pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek. “I should get dressed, but enjoy the last of your shower.” Â
His voice was tinged with sleep as you nodded, turning towards the water as you cleaned off your skin, the feeling of his touch ingrained in it’s memory. Barely even five minutes later you shut off the water, reaching for the towel on it’s warmer as you padded out to the bedroom. Stiles lay on the bed, his hair damp on the pillows, his mouth hung open as he slept. He must’ve been knackered. You smiled to yourself, towel drying your hair as you walked over to him. You watched him for a moment before grabbing your purse. Gotta put the phone on charge then I can sleep. You plugged it in, setting it on your bedside table as you sat on the bed; tying your hair into a loose pony you sighed kicking the towel from your body. Stiles snored behind you as you pulled on pyjamas, sliding underneath the comforter. Finally some sleep. Nothing could stir you from your sleep. Not even the constant stream of messages and calls to your phone.
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The landlady’s voice could probably shatter glass and definitely Y/N’s patience.
Under her breath, Y/N muttered, “Why not donate that banshee voice to a startup, ma’am? Maybe they’ll turn it into clean energy or something. At least then you’d be useful after wasting oxygen all these years.”
“What did you just say, you ungrateful brat?” the woman shouted, her voice echoing off the cracked, peeling walls.
This so-called house that this old woman was howling about was falling apart. It wasn’t 'affordable vintage charm.' It was just five stages of grief. The only free luxury was sunlight leaking through a massive hole in the ceiling. If Y/N stretched far enough, she could probably high-five a pigeon.
“I said shouting isn’t good for your blood pressure,” she replied with a tight, polite smile that didn’t match the irritation bubbling inside. “I’ll pay you in the evening. But for that, I need to actually go to work.”
“Who the hell would come to you, dimwit? Other than those spiders nesting in your dusty little clinic!” the landlady snapped. “Even they need therapy after living with you!”
Y/N stared at her blankly. The audacity. And in orthopedic slippers no less.
Meanwhile, in a shadowy alley on the other side of the city...
The air didn’t just smell bad. It stank of rust, mold, and something that used to be alive.
A silver blade flashed, quick and cruel, slicing through a man’s trembling hand. His cry echoed down the alley, but it didn’t last long. The next stab landed in his stomach. Blood spilled fast. So did his insides, sliding out across the wet pavement.
A laugh followed. Low. Cold. Heartless.
Jungkook stood over the body, wiping the knife clean on the dying man’s shirt.
“I’ve eaten sushi smarter and more useful than this idiot,” he muttered.
He was dressed in black from head to toe. Tailored jacket, designer watch, boots that probably cost more than a building’s rent. The blood pooling at his feet didn’t bother him in the slightest.
“Clean this up,” he said to his men, snapping the knife shut. “And tell that rat in Sector Seven if he sends another spy, I’ll cut his balls off and hang them from my rearview mirror.”
His men moved without hesitation. One dragged the body away like it was an old mattress. Another wiped up the blood with quiet focus. No panic. No guilt. Just another night on the job.
Jungkook slid into the backseat of a blacked-out car and lit a cigarette. He inhaled like it was the only thing keeping him from losing his temper entirely.
“Third one this week,” he muttered to Taehyung, his trusted man, apart from Jimin. “Is it really that hard to get through a day without betrayal, whining, or someone trying to be clever?”
Taehyung, behind the wheel, gave a lazy shrug. “You’re scary. That tends to attract challengers.”
Jungkook blew out a stream of smoke. “Next idiot who crosses me is getting served his own tongue on a plate.”
The car rolled off into the night, swallowed by shadows. The alley fell silent again, at least until someone else made the mistake of thinking they could outlive a warning.
Her own wheezing breaths almost overwhelmed the sound of the angry mob behind her as she ran. Ran like she had the devil on her heels. She clutched the front of her damp, mud stained skirts in front of her.
Cold rain was pelting down on her. Thick drops of water dragged her otherwise neatly done hair into her face. She had enough trouble seeing here she was going as it was – it was night and the pitch black clouds blotted out what little light the moon and stars could provide. All there was, was a faint orange glow behind her.
Synopsis:Â
When Princess Tiffany's bodyguard has to leave her to go on a mission, he leaves his squire, Noah, behind to guard the princess in his stead. It doesn't take long for Tiffany to fall head over heels for the squire, despite Noah being shy, 'beneath her' and... a girl.
Chapter 1
Part 1 | Part 2
Chapter 2
Part 1 | Part 2
Chapter 3
Part 1 | Part 2
Chapter 4
Part 1 | Part 2
Chapter 5
Part 1 | Part 2
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Part 1 | Part 2
Chapter 9
Part 1 | Part 2
Chapter 10
Part 1 | Part 2
Chapter 11
Part 1 | Part 2
Epilogue
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