Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Corbeau sits at his desk, glaring down at a pile of paperwork that still needs to be finished. He’d never admit it but his mind was elsewhere, wandering uncharacteristically vs his usual focus when he had work to do. After a while he’s finally brought out of his contemplation by the sound of the elevator dinging, signaling someone just arrived on his floor.

Philippe enters the room and stands just outside the elevator door, “We got news boss.” Corbeau’s eyebrow twitches, deep down he’d always hated how they called him that, “Well? Spit it out.” He replies sharply at Philippe’s pause. “The new team MZ girl, she’s gone from rank V to F overnight.” This surprised Corbeau immensely. He leans back in his chair, hands folded in his lap as he stares down his nose at his right hand, “Interesting.” ‘Impressive.’ “Did you get her name?” 

“Onyx sir.”

“Onyx…” Corbeau trails off.

“Thank you. You’re dismissed for the night.” Corbeau adds curtly, waving a hand in dismissal. Once Philippe exits the room Corbeau stands up and starts pacing around. How in the world did a previous nobody, a tourist, suddenly become one of the strongest up and coming trainers in Lumiose overnight? It felt unreal. He needed to meet her. Pick her brain. Or even better…control that power. Part of him felt jealous, he’d worked so hard to get to where he is, to be as strong as he is now, and to be honest he felt like he was being threatened. ‘No, this just won’t do.’ Corbeau walks swiftly to the other side of the room and opens one of his many filing cabinets, flipping through folders until coming across one labeled ‘Urbain’. This was going to be his leverage. He was already planning out how it’d go down. It was going to be perfect, it had to be, he’d never accept less. 

You couldn’t fucking believe it.

Not only was Urbain not answering anyone’s calls or texts, but he had apparently failed to inform anyone about the loan he had taken out to shoot a video he didn’t even finish! To make matters worse instead of being a run of the mill, mostly safe, not too horrible loan. It was an extremely high interest loan that he had taken from a loan shark crime front that was now 1,000,000? Or at least that’s as much information as you’d really been able to gather as yours and Lida’s phones rang with insistent messages to go to the Rust Syndicates office to discuss the matter.

“I- on the risk of sounding rude how is this now our issue!” You hiss to Lida and Naveen, mostly in shock. You’d barely adjusted to your new life here in Lumiose and to just now hear about a powerful loan agency that definitely just sounded like a mob to you was hard to wrap your head around. Not to mention your all too optimistic leader had decided to sign a contract with them without reading the fine print! It was ridiculous. As much as you are a member of this team and love helping the city and the pokemon that live here, this sounded like an Urbain problem.

Lida shakes her head, “Seems like as long as Urbain is AWOL we have no other choice than to at least go meet them…the Rust Syndicate doesn’t really take no for an answer…”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, irritation spiking again but you take a deep breath to calm yourself, knowing you’ll need to see reason and be professional when you meet this ‘Corbeau’, “I know I know I just…where IS Urbain the one time we actually need him.” You muse, “Like seriously? It’s like he never leaves them POOF! Gone!” You complain, slumping in your chair.

Naveen shakes his head slowly, forever seeming drowsy, “At least it means I don’t need to smell curry again tonight.” Which does elicit a small laugh from your lips, “Fair enough my friend, but it’s not fair your phone isn’t blowing up with threats from a crime boss.” You tease. Lida gasps and waves a hand, “That’s not confirmed! They help the city a lot. They’re always on the news.”

Her innocence has you wanting to roll your eyes, “On paper. Girl you can NOT tell me you don’t feel like these loans are a crime. They sound outrageous alone. Who knows what else they hide behind closed doors.” You huff, crossing your arms to add to your pout, “It’s-“ you wave your hands around, “Fine. We’ll go see what they want. Hopefully it won’t be so bad once we hear them out.” You comment, lying through your teeth in the hopes to keep Lida from being too anxious. You can tell by Naveen’s dead eyed look towards you that he does NOT agree and knows you don’t believe it either but Lida does seem to relax. “Let’s rest up, we gotta meet ‘the boss’ first thing tomorrow.” You add with sassy air quotes, still pissy but by the next morning you’ll swallow the feeling and do your best to get over it for the sake of business.

Naveen gives his best effort at a comforting smile, “You guys got this, I’ll be here if you need more help. Just call.” Before he awkwardly pats your shoulder. Obviously not knowing the best way to comfort people but his effort is admirable and you give him a smile in reply, “Thank you Naveen. I’ll keep you updated.” You assure before waving a hand, “Alright good night guys! See you in the morning.” You bid one last time before making your way to the elevator. You nod at AZ as you pass, him having been silently but thoughtfully listening to your conversation. “Best of luck.” His soft voice trails after you as you enter the elevator. “We’ll need it.” You sigh back in a mumble, only for him to hear as you hit the button for your floor.

As you get ready for bed you look through your closet. You know damn well any large operation such as the Rust Syndicate will have standards. Maybe they don’t have any expectations of you yet but you want to attempt to make a decent impression. If Urbain really dug himself such a deep hole you could at least try and fill it in a little so he’s not drowning whenever he decides to reappear. He did help you get where you are right now after all. 

Another deep sigh leaves your chest as you look at your clothing. Nothing fancy, mostly just well worn day clothes since you’ve been running around all day and night trying to catch pokemon, handle rouge megas, and get challenger tickets. You purse your lips in a huff, “I don’t wanna look shabby.” 

As you contemplate your outfit you perk up, a gothic sweater catching your eyes. You’d always dressed in an alternative style before arriving here. Your whole closet was black, you had more chokers and silver jewelry than anyone else you knew, and god you loved your platform combat boots. The only reason you hadn’t been dressing that way was exactly due to what you mentioned before. As talented as you are, running in platforms hurt after a while, jewelry got in the way, and any types of baggy pants or fishnets also easily got in the way or tore. ‘Just for a day. It’ll at the least make you a notable visit,’  you think to yourself as you choose a tight black tank top, baggy black cargo pants, some belts, your combat boots, and fishnets to go under the top. You contemplate a choker…but decide maybe that’s too much for a more professional setting. You set everything out on your desk. Wanting to be able to just jump up, change, and be ready for the day when you wake up.

‘That’ll have to do.’ You decide, flipping your lights off and jumping into your bed for some much needed sleep.

Chapter Text

The next morning you do exactly as planned. You jump up, freshen up, and change into your outfit. You missed how tall your platforms made you feel, you were only 5’4 which is pretty average but still short all things considered. Now you were standing at a solid 5’6 which also boosted your confidence. “You got this.” You whisper to yourself in the mirror as you put on your earrings, admiring your cleavage shamelessly. You’d never been uncomfortable in your body, if anything you’d adored your bigger chest and full ass. Never once had you envied all the models you’d see on the screens with edited, unrealistically thin bodies. In fact ‘thick thighs save lives’ was your internal motto and every time you got to say it you’d giggle childishly. ‘Hopefully this isn’t considered too revealing.’ you think briefly before shrugging, who cared, it was fun to dress up again. 

Before long you were jumping into the elevator, hitting the bottom floor button with both anticipation and anxiety. As you entered the lobby of Hotel Z you noticed both Lida and Naveen were already present.

Naveen glances over and stops mid sentence with a small gasp, “You have nice clothes!” He exclaims which automatically makes you laugh. Lida swats his shoulder, “Naveen! That was rude!!” Which has the poor boy waving his hands back and forth in denial, “No- sorry that’s not what I meant. I’m offended you have nice clothes and didn’t show me.” he clarifies which just makes your smile grow wider. “I would’ve but with how busy we’ve been dressing up hasn’t been my first priority.” You muse as you walk over and lean against a nearby wall. “I have more than this, I’ll do a red carpet show for you another time.” You assure, which makes Naveen’s eyes light up more than usual, forever the clothing addict. “You promise?” He asks, his gaze almost scrutinizing. You nod again with a giggle, “Pinky promise, I’m sure you could help me add to my collection too so it’ll be a win win.”

This seems to have Naveen very content as his eyes grow distant, most definitely already imagining clothes for you to wear or him to make. As he drifts off you motion at Lida, “Ready?” She looks anxious, fiddling with her hands as she bounces back and forth on her feet, “As ready as I’ll ever be!” She offers with a bright smile that fails to assure you. You shrug off the wall and open the door, “We got this.” You state confidently, smiling at her as she exits the building. You wave a hand in farewell to Naveen, “Don’t get into trouble while we’re gone!” Which earns you a huff of attitude in reply. You both knew the true trouble was going to be with you and Lida.

The drive to the Rust Syndicate’s office was uneventful. Unfortunately, you can’t say the same for what happens at the front gates. You grit your teeth in annoyance as the grunts at the gate challenge you to a battle, ‘You invited US here.’ You want to snap but instead you throw out your alpha Absol and huff out, “Good luck.” with a snarky smirk before commanding it to attack.

You make quick work of the grunts, taking charge and motioning for Lida to just stand back and let you handle it. You have no time to waste in your day and this was already a nuisance. Feeling mighty proud of yourself for Absol’s and Meganium’s work you give them a cocky grin when you win, “Now can we talk with your boss?”

Before either grunt can answer, an imposingly large man makes an appearance behind them. “I’m afraid you’ll need to jump one more hurdle before seeing the boss,” He grunts, looking down on you two neutrally, “Philippe, at your service.” He greets before throwing out a large Steelix. You steel your expression and grab your Charizards Pokeball, “Onyx.” You reply curtly as you throw out your friend. You feel warmth emit from your mega stone and decide there’s no better way to end this faster than to mega evolve. “Charizard! You know what to do.” You bark to get his attention as you activate your mega stone, bracing against the torrent of energy that pulses from it to your pokemon.

Soon after your charizard is roaring in its mega X glory. Bright blue and beautiful you immediately direct him to attack. The battle ends faster than it started, a series of one hits as your eyes burn with impatience that you know your pokemon can feel. Right after winning you praise your friend heavily, scratching his head before returning him to his Pokeball.

You can’t tell if Philippe seems shocked or contemplative after his loss. Either way he clears his throat and steps to the side, “Right this way.” Which gives you instant relief, finally back on track. You feel Lida at your back, practically vibrating, “Was- that necessary?” She asks in a whisper, amusement and anxiety in her tone. You can’t help but chuckle and shrug, “Goal was to win, I just took the fastest track.”

You’re led past lines of grunts on either side of you. ‘An intimidation tactic I’m sure’ you think to yourself, and unfortunately you had to admit it was working. It was hard not to be intimidated in a giant building with dozens of grunts in uniforms watching you pass by. Who knows what business they all dealt with. Truthfully, you never wanted to know. Philippe hits a button on the elevator and you couldn’t feel more relieved as you step into the space and the doors shut. The three of you ride in silence, it being almost deafening minus the whirr and beeps of the elevator around you.

‘Fuck I’m anxious’ you curse yourself internally. You hide it well and you know that you just need to be less anxious than Lida but you still have this pit in your stomach. Whoever Corbeau is you can only assume he will match what you’ve already experienced and more. Intimidating, imposing, stern, maybe even cruel- you blink out of your thoughts as the elevator door opens and you walk into Corbeau’s expansive office. It’s even more lavish than what you’d already seen. Everything was spotless and in the middle of the room sat the boss himself.

He doesn’t even spare you a glance as you are guided in. The first thing you notice is his clothing. Immaculate, custom designed, definitely tailored. Even his glasses fit his outfit and regardless of the distance between you you can see the quality of the fabric he wears. As he looks up your eyes are immediately drawn to his and you can’t help how you feel yourself freeze.

They were stunning. Piercing really. A deep gold staring back at you. You see his eyes flick over you while wearing a scrutinizing expression and you can immediately tell from here on out everything you do, every movement you make, and every word you say will be judged. He glances at Lida for the briefest moment before meeting your eyes again. He leans back in his chair, crossing his legs and folding his hands over his knee, “How nice of you to finally join me. A bit late.” He notes matter of factly, one of his eyebrows twitching. You can’t tell if it’s an invitation to explain yourself, annoyance, or an attempt to intimidate you more than you already feel intimidated. You decide to look down and smooth the front of your shirt before looking back up, “Well, your guards gave us a warm welcome that’s for sure, even my original earliness didn’t account for three pokemon battles.” I comment back evenly.

His eyebrow fully shoots up this time, “Three?” You just nod, sensing that he’s contemplating it over looking for clarification. As he contemplates this you let your eyes flicker over the rest of his face. Everything about him looked sharp, immaculately groomed, you didn’t even see a strand of hair out of place. Whether he’s impressed, surprised, or feeling some other way by this new information you don’t get to know and he makes no effort to clarify his thoughts. “You both know why you’re here, yes?” He asks next, his eyes never leaving you. You start to feel yourself melt internally, anxiety climbing as he pierces you with his stare. He had no right to be so damn imposing, “To talk about Urbain’s loan.” You confirm, biting back the ‘That we have nothing to do with’ Part of the sentence. 

A smirk pulls at his lips, “So you did read my messages. Good.” he nods over to some of the couches at the side of the room, “Do please sit down, no need to negotiate standing.” he hums. Even with his supposedly polite tone at the moment you feel hesitant. What did this guy really want? You can sense Lida’s anxiety as the two of you walk over to sit down, the poor girl is wobbling like a leaf in the wind. You give her thigh a pat under the table once you sit down, hoping to help assure her that you could handle it. 

When Corbeau stands up you can’t help noticing how short he is. When he’s sitting down it’s less noticeable, and he's so imposing that he can stare down his nose at you either way, but without your platforms you assume you’d be looking each other right in the eyes. With as much confidence as your boots gave you this morning that extra confidence has all but fled your body as Corbeau approaches the couch and sits down across from you. His eyes follow you constantly, drilling into your head, you couldn’t stand the staring. You start to fidget with your hands under the table, ‘What is this assholes problem!’ Outwardly you give him a polite smile, “To cut to the chase. What exactly are you looking for from us?” You ask, keeping your tone as even as you can as he stares into your soul.

This question elicits another side smile from him, “Not one for dilly dallying are you. Perfect.” He nods towards Philippe who pulls out what you assume is Urbain’s original contract, “As you already know your dear friend signed a deal with us, and failed to pay what is owed. With interest he now owes us 1,000,000. Quite the sum don’t you think?” Your fists clench under the table. His voice was so sickeningly smooth, rough around the edges, cocky, “Quite an impressive interest rate that’s for sure.” you acknowledge. For a split second Corbeau seems to shoot you a look but it’s there and gone again so fast you miss what it could’ve meant. He motions at the paper which Philippe tosses down in front of you, “It goes without saying that we expect to be paid back in full. A contract is a contract. And with your dear leader avoiding me it falls onto you two until he reappears.” 

You groan internally, keeping your face flat, “We can’t afford what he owes, you know that.” One side of his lips tugs up in a side smirk, “I do. So out of the generosity of my heart and sympathy for your new burden I have a different proposal.” ‘Sympathy my ass!!’ “Whats the proposal?” You ask apprehensively, not trusting him for a second. “Even if you can’t pay back the monetary value you owe, there is work to be done. Instead of owing this value outright you can work for me to pay it off.” His proposal weighs in the air and you feel yourself deflate slightly. It wasn’t the worst thing he could ask you to do, and it- well hopefully it’d be better than owing the money outright. Before you can make a decision yourself Lida blurts out, “Yes! That’s fine! We’ll do that!!” which makes you groan internally a second time. Even with her agreement Corbeau’s eyes don’t leave you, drilling farther into you as he expects an answer. 

You give a small nod, trying not to glare in his direction, “That’s fine. But I’d like to add a condition.” He leans back, looking down his nose at you in the same infuriating way he did when you first walked in, “I don’t negotiate.” You wave a hand incredulously, continuing anyway, “Team MZ is busy, we have lots to do. I want to be the only one that spends time working for you. You’ll get your work, but I want to leave Lida and Naveen out of it.” You insist, ignoring Lida’s sputtering protests in favor and returning Corbeau’s stare as intensely as you can muster. 

His eyes narrow as you speak, “You’ll be given twice the work.” 

“That’s fine.”

“Then it’s settled.” He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a new contract, much shorter than Urbain’s, “Sign on the dotted line.” he commands, tossing a pen on top of the paper unceremoniously. You take the pen and read the page thoroughly, not about to fall into another trap. It’s stated simply, you will work for the Rust Syndicate until Urbain’s debt is repaid or Urbain renegotiates the agreement. You squint at the page and lift it up to shine some light through the paper. Corbeau scoffs, “What are you doing?” You squint harder at the paper, “I’m trying to make sure there’s no hidden ink on this before I sign away my labor.” He scowls, “There isn’t. Sign the damn paper.” Something about his tone has you putting the page down and signing it quickly, “There.” 

Corbeau slides the paper back towards him, glancing at the signature before leaning forward on his elbows to grab your attention again, “You will be contacted with your first jobs tomorrow. Early. Please take care not to be late.” You scowl at him, unable to hold it in any longer at the distasteful situation, “I won’t be.” You snap, standing swiftly. You can immediately tell you made a mistake by how his expression darkens. He stands up fluidly and takes a step towards you, now close enough for you to smell his cologne. A deep earthy smell you don’t recognize. The step he took feels threatening, full of intention, “Do that again and I’ll double what you owe.” You shrink under his gaze, “S-sorry sir.” you mumble out, turning your head to avoid eye contact as you feel the defeat course up your veins, heating your face in shame. The feeling of submission infuriates you even more, you hate being bossed around. ‘What the actual fuck.’ 

If you had been looking at him you would have seen the satisfaction flash across his eyes at your apology, or how his eyes freely roamed over you judgmentally, “Tomorrow. Early.” He repeats before turning sharply back over to his desk and walking over to sit back down, “Dismissed.” 

You and Lida don’t stick around, all but running out of the building as soon as you’re dismissed. As you exit the gates Philippe clears his throat before you can fully disappear, “You will get messages directly from the boss, be mindful to not ignore them.” You grumble under your breath but nod, “Thank you.” before grabbing Lida’s arm and scurrying away. 

Once you’re out of sight of the building Lida whacks your arm, “Why did you do that!!!” You shrug, “We can’t have the whole team down, and we both know I’ll be the fastest at doing whatever work he assigns.” She scoffs, “Even so! I could’ve shouldered PART of the burden!!!” she whines pitifully and you can’t help but laugh, lightly shoving her shoulder, “Oh please, you got so much more going on in your daily life than me, between your pokemon, dance, and family. Just don’t waste your new freedom at my expense.” You joke which does draw a giggle out from her. “Let’s go update Naveen before he dies of worry…or more likely boredom.” Lida lets out a full laugh at this, “You’re right, I’m sure he’s DREADING all this time without us around.” which has you both shaking your heads and giggling.

As Lida runs off in front of you, full of energy after the anxious encounter, you can’t help but feel a pit of dread in your stomach. Had you bit off more than you could chew? Most likely. Did you care? No. You have a growing, nagging annoyance deep in your stomach the more you think about what just happened. He was so smug. To make matters worse he intimidated you so easily and you know he knows that. He does that to everyone he ‘deals’ with. Knowing the satisfaction he must be feeling right now caused your heart to burn with building anger. You’d work for him but man you needed to try to find a way to either get on his nerves without consequences or at least build up your confidence enough not to shrink down like you did a moment ago. 

‘This is gonna be a long week if Urbain doesn’t show up soon...’

Chapter Text

You get up early the next morning as requested. While Corbeau never gave you a specific time you knew it’d be around 7 am, 6am if he was truly an ass. Lucky for him your insomniac ass was up at 5 am against your will and you decide you’ll just get up and get ready for your day. Instead of dragging your feet and waiting around you grab a granola bar for breakfast and head out of the hotel around 5:30. Your clothing today is back to your modest work attire, well worn and paired with sneakers. No one else in the hotel is up yet, you didn’t expect them to be, but you admit it would’ve been nice if the first person you got to see today wasn’t Corbeau. 

You are already tired but you do your best to wake yourself up by choosing to walk and jog over to the Syndicate this morning. Not many people are out and about yet which means you get to be alone in your thoughts as you listen to the steady thrum of your heart and the sound of your sneakers against the pavement. As you approach the tall building you notice the gates are closed, no grunts to be seen. 

You stop outside the gates and huff, the sun barely breaking the horizon line at this point. After a quick inspection you see a button and a speaker on the wall. You press the button hesitantly and the speaker buzzes to life, “I’ve arrived.” you state after a moment before letting the button go and leaning back to stare at the sky while you wait for a response. 

“I didn’t message you yet.” Corbeau’s voice echo’s back at you and you can’t help the smile that pops onto your face. Looking back down and pressing the button again you lace your voice with sweetness, “You said early boss, so here I am, early~” there’s another moment of silence and then you hear a loud click as the gate unlocks. You get no verbal reply but you take this as an invitation to enter. You drag the door open with a grunt and slip inside, making sure it latches behind you. 

Somehow walking through the front garden into the main building alone is more intimidating than when it was filled with activity. Once you walk through the main doors an incredibly eerie feeling falls over you. Your footsteps echo across the walls and it doesn’t seem like there’s a single living thing around. 

You hit the elevator button, ‘Guess the only way I can go is up…’ Once inside you hit the topmost button and start to shuffle around the elevator as it brings you up to his office. You had wrongly assumed the syndicate started operations around 6 am, or maybe they’re all still out doing night oriented tasks. Either way it felt weird thinking that Corbeau didn’t have anyone around the front to guard it. On the same note though what if it was all for show? You’re sure there's plenty of other security measures in place. In fact you were probably being watched right now…

You shake the thought from your mind as the door opens again. You step into Corbeau’s office and glance around. His seat is noticeably empty, no Corbeau in sight. At this point your nerves are feeling shot, paranoia seeping in quickly at the lack of noise around you. You take a few steps into the room, feeling like you’re being watched, exposed…until his voice breaks the silence from behind you, “You look so skittish kid.” 

His voice is so sudden you jump and shriek, snapping around and slapping your hand over your mouth in horror at the sound that just came out of you. Corbeau looks entirely unimpressed, leaning against a nearby wall with his coat over one arm and a coffee in the other. He simply raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of his coffee, “Are you done?”

Your face turns red, so much for being more put together and unaffected today. You straighten yourself out and glare at the floor, “Sorry.” 

“Sorry sir.” he corrects curtly.

‘This guy is on a constant fucking power trip holy fuck.’ “Sorry sir.” 

“Better.” 

He walks over to his desk and sets his drink down, shrugging on his coat before sitting down, “Care to tell me why you’re here before the morning shift even arrives?” You contemplate how you should reply and decide honesty is probably just the best way to go, “I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to just get up and get my day started.” 

He hums in reply, running a hand through his hair. You don’t know when he woke up this morning but he looks just as immaculate as yesterday. His clothes are perfectly pressed, his hair is combed and styled, his eyes bright and- staring right at you. You blink, realizing you must have missed either his response or another question he asked as you stared at him. He seems to realize your conundrum and narrows his eyes in a glare, “I don’t care if you’re up at 3 am if you’re not awake enough to hear me speak I don’t want you here this early again.” His voice is filled with even more judgement than his stare.

You run a hand over your face and rub the corners of your eyes, “I’m awake, I promise, apologies. Sir.” you almost forget the last part, not sure you’ll ever get used to it, “What did you say?” You ask. “I asked if you ever tried any natural insomnia remedies.” This question truly piques your interest, feeling oddly personal, “...why do you want to know?” He leans back with his coffee in hand, nursing it slowly, “Because your undereye bags are unseemly for someone so young.” 

You look at him in disbelief, somehow he both insulted you but also gave an offhand compliment, “You’re talking to me like I’m a teenager. Plus it-” your hands flail, “You know what nevermind, yes I have, nothing works, I don’t process stimulants or sedatives properly.” you find yourself starting to ramble and promptly snap your mouth shut. Why were you giving him more information than he already had? That’s not what you’re here for. 

Corbeau tilts his head at your words but drops the subject, “I need you to clear out a new building. It was unoccupied just long enough for some ghostly friends to move in. You can handle that can’t you? Not going to drop dead of fear?” His tone drips with venom by the end of it, a sneer sliding into both his tone and expression. You feel your face heat up again in both anger and embarrassment, “No sir. I can handle that just fine.” 

He nods, “Perfect.” Waving a hand dismissively as his rotom flies out of his pocket, “Dismissed.” he adds as your rotom dings with an address from his number. All you can bring yourself to do is nod and spin on your foot to march to the elevator. Once you’re in the elevator and the door closes behind you your face drops into your hands. How does he catch you off guard so often? Why can’t you keep yourself together? It was so infuriating for him to always have the upper hand. To be so unaffected by anything you do or say. 

‘Those damn eyes.’ You rage internally. 

You make your way to the given address and glare at the building. It was brand new, nice looking, no wonder the pokemon want to live here. You open the door without much ceremony and are greeted by a large dark room filled with boxes. “Alright guys! I’m here to clear you out! It’s preferred you leave of your own accord.” you yell into the dark space even though you know it will be to no avail. Instead you’re greeted by a chorus of angry pokemon and you throw out your Absol, “Can’t ever have shit the easy way can I.” You joke into the empty air which gets you a big eye roll from your partner, “Hey! I don’t need attitude from you too!” You complain lightheartedly. 

The two of you make quick work of the issue and you’re feeling quite smug with the speed you and your partner were able to handle things. Only took an hour or so. Just as you’re about to leave you hear someone else enter the building. You spin around to greet whoever it is and feel more than a little dismay at who’s walking towards you. Did he not have better things to do than tail you?

Corbeau greets you with a tight lipped smile, “Done so soon?” You look away to glare at the empty room, “Yeah looks like it.” His eyes wander around the room, “You’re not as thorough as you think you are. You missed one.” He states right before another Gengar jumps out from behind the boxes. You press your lips together but command your Absol to attack again. After a slight back and forth you win once more and turn to face Corbeau again, “See any other issues with my work?” 

“Other than your failure to do it right the first time? No.” 

He had to be doing it on purpose. You sigh internally and throw him a small smile, “Sorry sir. What’s my next assignment?” just wanting to get your work over as soon as possible. “I need you to go down to the sewers for the rest of the day.”

“What for?” 

“Cleaning out mega crystals.” 

You couldn’t help but narrow your eyes at him, “Really?” His eyes narrow right back, “Don’t make me repeat myself. And do make sure to do it right the first time. I have no patience for shitty work kid.” His insistence on calling you a kid made you want to snap, “You don’t need to repeat yourself, I’m just surprised the Syndicate is concerning themselves with mega crystals.” 

Corbeau waves a hand, “I’m not unaware of what goes on in this city. In fact I know more than most. My goal is to help this city and the pokemon that live here. Mega crystals cause problems. So go fix it.” You decide that that makes enough sense to be a passing answer but still have a nagging feeling in your stomach about what they might use the crystals for. 

Seeing your apprehension he glares down his nose at you, “If it’ll make you do it any faster you can keep the crystals you collect. Stop concerning yourself.” You develop a sheepish look and nod, slightly surprised at how easy he can read you, “Fine. Should I come back to the office when I’m done?” He shakes his head, “When you’re fully finished with your work go home. But if I hear word that you did a sloppy job I’ll be adding to your debt instead of subtracting from it.” 

“Understood sir.” You cringe internally at the comment and start to make your way towards the door, needing to get out of the building to ease your discomfort even if he didn’t dismiss you. “And don’t arrive until 8am tomorrow. If you disturb my sleep again you’ll regret it.” he hisses over his shoulder as you exit the building. 

It takes you a few steps to process what he just said. You woke him up? How did he look so put together this morning if you woke him up like he claimed? Did this man sleep in a damn coffin to keep his image? Maybe he’s just able to get ready really fast. All these questions are useless but they plague your mind as you make your way to your next location. 

It takes you the rest of the day to do as Corbeau asked. You should’ve assumed that due to the lack of traffic in the sewers there would be more mega crystals but it truly didn’t cross your mind until you arrived. After hours of tedious work on top of dealing with any pokemon that choose to make themselves your problem you stumble back into Hotel Z as the light is disappearing from the sky. 

The only one there to greet you is AZ. The old man smiles when he sees you, “Glad to see you back safe.” You only manage to give him a nod, too tired to say much else. He doesn’t seem to take offense to this as he pulls a small package out from under the desk, “This came for you.” He says instead, offering it to you. You take it with interest, “Huh, I wasn't expecting anything but thank you AZ.” you give him a grateful smile, “I- really gotta go shower but I’ll see you around.” you add, itching to get in the elevator and get to your room. He waves a hand with a shake of his head, “Go relax.” which you take immediately, hitting the elevator button and slipping in swiftly. 

Once you’re in your room you immediately strip, freeing your body from your sweat soaked clothes. You run your hands through your hair before picking the small package back up. There’s no return address, no name other than yours on the front, how did it even arrive?

That question is answered as soon as you rip open the brown paper. You’re left with a velvet black box in your hand, a note on top that reads:

Get some sleep, wake me up again and you’ll never escape. 

Which is such a fucking odd thing to say, honestly very threatening, but admittedly just very Corbeau. You flip the lid open and see a small bag filled with pills inside. The inside top of the box has another note:

Don’t test my patience.

No, absolutely not. You were not about to take some mystery pill that is supposedly supposed to help you sleep. Especially not one from a criminal disguised as a saint. You snap the box shut and toss it to the side of your dresser, “Nope. Can’t do it.” You huff out loud as you make your way into your bathroom to shower.

After showering and changing into a bed gown you find your way back into your bed. You’re so exhausted, so so tired, but sleep was hard to come by. Every time you’re about to slip into bliss something draws you out of it, an odd half awake and half asleep state. Even with all your sleeping troubles you absolutely refuse to take the pills Corbeau sent you. Settling for bad sleep over whatever the hell those pills might do. 

Chapter Text

Things were turning out better than he could have hoped for. You’d been so willing to throw yourself at him, completely give up your time just so the other members of your team didn’t have to work with him. Not only did this mean he got the satisfaction of your surrender but it also meant he could be twice as hard on you. 

You were everything he’d assumed you’d be and more. Strong, resilient, determined. You had a barely contained attitude and he couldn’t wait to see how far he could push you until it snapped. You seemed to try so hard to be polite and put together and you failed so miserably. The way you shrieked when he surprised you. It was like music to his ears. Seems like you had a paranoid streak but he didn’t mind. He could use it to his advantage. 

He taps his pen against his desk, once again lost in thoughts about you. His thoughts slowly started to devolve, going from you submitting to his commands, to the clothing you wore when he first saw you, to imagining you sitting on his desk, to- 

His stream of thought is rudely interrupted by the sound of the elevator dinging and he immediately chides himself. Not only is he supposed to be working but his business with you was strictly that. Business. He just wanted to break you enough to get you to truly work for him. Nothing more.

The elevator doors slide open and Philippe strides in like usual. Corbeau raises an eyebrow, “You delivered the package like I asked?” 

“Yes boss.”

“And she made it home?”

“Safe and sound.” Philippe chirps, earning him a side eye.

“And what about her work?”

“Entirely spotless. Immaculate actually. Beyond your original expectation.” At this point Corbeau can see the smile tugging at his right hands lips. Corbeau glares down his nose at him, “Don’t get any ideas. I just need her in good enough condition to work.” Philippe nods, his tone a barely concealed giggle, “You’re always very thorough boss.” 

Corbeau rubs his temples in annoyance, “You’re insufferable.” He tugs off his glasses so they hang at his neck as he rubs his eyes, “Truly spotless?” “Yes sir. Spotless.” This draws a wry laugh from Corbeau’s lips, “She’s something else.” Philippe nods solemnly, “Works better and faster than 20 of our men.”

Corbeau sighs and leans back, “Make me a list of some lighter work I can give her tomorrow. Then a list of tedious things that need to be done.” Philippe nods again, “As you wish boss.” With this Corbeau waves a hand, “Dismissed.” And the large man leaves him to his thoughts again. 

He knew you wouldn’t take the pills, you didn’t trust him. You still think he has malicious intent even after all the work you’ve had the Rust Syndicate do for the city. You didn’t understand. Sure, the syndicate dealt in shady loans, off the market trail drugs of various types, and a few ‘disappearances’ over the years, but never had he commanded anyone to harm someone who was innocent. Urbain’s loan? Merely harmless leverage exactly for a moment like this one. 

Those pills he sent you were merely a natural version of sleeping pills. Derived from the powder produced whenever pokemon uses the move ‘sleep powder’ mixed with the pollen of Roserade. A pollen which initially has life threatening poison turned into an effective sedative that wears off in 6-8 hours. It’s what he took before bed when he particularly needed deeper sleep. He makes them himself too, not trusting anyone else to not fuck it up, especially knowing they could accidentally kill someone if they did. 

Caught back up in his thoughts of how tired you’ll be when you come back tomorrow and what consequences he might give you, he finally just sighs and stands up. Deciding to go to bed since he’s not getting any work done at this rate. ‘She’s more dangerous than she thinks. She shouldn’t be taking up this much of my brain space right now’ he chides himself again. He just couldn’t help it. You’re the most interesting thing that’s happened in a while and he was excited to see the outcome of his, and ultimately your, decisions. “Time will tell.” He sighs, finally retiring for the night.

Chapter Text

You didn’t know it but Corbeau was right. You barely slept and when you finally rolled out of bed you felt groggy, grumpy, and were dragging your feet. Everything be damned, you were just happy you didn’t take any of the pills he offered. 

You get out of bed around 7:30 am and don’t even bother to shower. Not that you needed too since you showered the night before but you usually make a habit of showering in the morning right after waking up. Instead you reapply deodorant, throw on a new pair of non-sewer smelling clothes, and walk out the door. 

Lida and Naveen are downstairs to greet you this morning and as usual Naveen holds nothing back with his comments, “Man you look like shit.” Which does pull a laugh from your lips as Lida gives him an extra hard wack, “Naveen!! She’s working her ass off for us and THATS how you say good morning?!!?” Naveens arms fly up to try and protect himself from the onslaught of reprimands, “She does! Someone needs to tell her!” 

You hurriedly run over and drag Lida away from the poor guy, “Lida it’s okay! He’s not wrong. I just didn’t sleep well. My first day of work wasn’t even that bad.” You assure with a chuckle, letting her go and nodding at Naveen, “Though I will admit a small good morning before attacking my soul would be nice Naveen.” You chide playfully. 

Naveen huffs and crosses his arms, glaring at the ground, “What if you didn’t know and no one told you? I need to make sure you knew.” You pat his shoulder, “I’m not mad, I promise. If anything I appreciate it. Truth be told, I have no reason to try to look nice if today is anything like yesterday.” 

This comment causes Lida’s head to tilt to the side like a curious dog, “What’d they have you doing yesterday?” You wave a hand, “Clearing out mega crystals, which isn’t horrible until it’s in the humid, warm, disgusting smelling sewer. But it wasn’t hard. Just time consuming.” Naveen’s nose scrunches as you describe it, “Gross.” 

Lida shakes her head and pouts, “That’s so rude of them to have you do, especially on your first day. Are you sure you’ll be good?” You give her the brightest smile you can muster, “Yep! I should probably get going though or I’ll be late.” You note. Lida nods and gives you a bright smile and two thumbs up, “You got this girl! Call if you need us. And thank you again.” As Naveen just nods. His eyes bore into you as you leave and you know he sees through everything you just said but you just give them both a wave and head out the door, “See you guys around.” 

You choose to take a cab over to the office this morning, too tired to waste more energy on walking if it’s not work related. You’re greeted by grunts at the gate who thankfully just let you through this time around. Philippe stands at the elevator and steps in with you with a curt nod. You nod back as you get in, taking in a silent deep breath and letting it out slowly to settle your nerves. 

Once you get to the top floor you notice Corbeau’s office is as perfect as ever, large and grand as you make your way towards his desk. This time he actually looks up as you enter and his deep golden gaze rakes over you. You do your best to look as normal as you can, forcefully brightening your expression to seem less tired than you are. All in the hopes to avoid more judgment from the man in front of you. 

“Your work yesterday…” he trails off, leaning back to look down his nose at you, “Was up to par.” He decides and you feel yourself groan internally. You swept that space spotless and you knew it. He was just choosing to be an ass but at least he wasn’t insulting your work again. 

“Your current appearance on the other hand. Dismal.” His gaze turns into a glare. “What did I say about testing my patience?” His voice drips in the same lethal tone from yesterday morning and it makes you visibly cringe. “How was I supposed to trust random pills that got sent to me? What if they drive me insane? Make me see things? Or what if they weren’t even from you? I don’t know about you but I sure wasn’t ready to find out.” Your tone is tired but not defeated, “I’m working for you but I don’t trust you and I think we can both agree that that’s a smart course of action over blindly agreeing to everything you, or anyone else, demands of me”. 

He taps his pen against the desk, once, twice, more. The only sound in the room you can hear besides the sound of your breathing and your heartbeat in your ears. “I make and take them myself. Even if you decide not to use them I won’t have you in my office looking like this again. Fix the problem. That’s an order I advise you not to cross.” 

You almost couldn’t believe your ears, getting threatened by Corbeau to sleep? You had to be dreaming. It was so- oddly nice and rude at the same time? His motives made you anxious and want to sleep even less now that he’s commanding you to do so. 

“Fine…sir.” You straighten back up, having shrunk at his earlier tone, “I’m ready for my work for the day.” You add, needing to get moving before you start to feel too tired on your feet. Corbeau's eyes narrow again and he leans forward to rest his elbows on the desk, “Considering yesterday's work your assignment today should be easy. Philippe has a list of addresses for you and a pile of orders in the lobby. Deliver them. Once you’re done you can go home and fix yourself for tomorrow.” 

“Orders? What are you selling?” You ask, both curious and slightly horrified. Corbeau lets out a genuine laugh, the first you’ve heard from him, “Oh please, wipe that look off your face. It’s all medicine. Harmless. Helpful actually. If you could finish in a timely manner I’d appreciate it.” His politeness has your shoulders slumping for some reason you can’t put your finger on, shame about your assumptions? Something else? You were too tired to feel your feelings correctly. “Yes sir. I’ll get right on it.” You agree, turning to shuffle back towards the elevator, assuming you’re dismissed. Either he’s in a good mood today or taking pity on you because he doesn’t mention the bad behavior and lets you leave with Philippe to start your work for the day.

As you stare down the pile of orders in the lobby you can’t help but frown. There are only about 20 packages, 4 of which will be delivered to the same building, and all 20 of them are small in size. “This is it?” You ask in disbelief, “You’re not hiding the rest of them in another room to be an ass are you?” You add which causes Philippe to let out a low chuckle. “Nope. This is all I’m afraid.” 

You purse your lips, glaring down at the packages, “What’s the catch?” 

“There isn’t one Miss.” 

“I want to believe you Philippe I really do but I really don’t.” You can’t help but laugh, “Okay fine, I’ll do this, but tomorrow is going to be hell isn’t it.” “I can neither confirm nor deny that until it happens Miss.” “You’re enjoying this in your own way aren’t you.” You accuse him next, a playful tone to your voice. Philippe always felt a lot more manageable to talk to than Corbeau. “Your irritation is hard not to be amused at at times.” The large man admits, “But my main entertainment comes from Corbeau not you ma’am.” 

You cock an eyebrow at this, “Oh yeah? Care to expound.” 

“I do not.”

“Lame.” You sigh again and gather the packages so you can start delivery. As you start walking out the door Philippe clears his throat one more time, “I advise you take one of the pills tonight. He doesn’t take kind to people refusing his commands twice.” You shake your head, “Well that’s mighty unfortunate for him.” Determined not to take the ‘mystery pills’ tonight either. In fact you’d rather take a debt penalty over taking one. 

The package delivery takes you only a few hours, your pokemon helping you out to expedite the process of running around town. Once you’re done you collapse on a bench and stare up at the sky, watching the clouds drift by lazily. You feel your eyes start to close and you get the nagging feeling you should move and go home but the bench is just so comfortable…

A tap on your shoulder startles you back awake, a squeak escaping your lips as your head snaps around to see your new visitor. Naveen stares down at you blankly, “Were you actually going to just sleep on this bench?” Your face burns with embarrassment as you cross your arms and glare at the ground, “Yeah…” you hear him huff in amusement, “At least go sleep in your own bed so people don’t think you’re homeless.” You let your face fall into your hands, “Thanks Naveen.” You mumble before standing up and stretching.

Naveen seems to contemplate something before reaching out and patting your shoulder, “Don’t do anything dangerous…please.” You give the boy a wry smile, “I’m not. Actively avoiding it actually. I promise that much.” You say truthfully. He seems to actually believe you this time as he waves a hand in the air, “Now go sleep, you look like you need it.” You nod again and pat his shoulder before grabbing your things and making your way back to the hotel, feeling a deep set tiredness in your bones.  

You make your way into your bed and curl up under the sheets. You want to sleep. You crave it so bad and you feel relieved to be able to finally get proper rest. Until an hour passes…then another…you’ve tried every position you can think of, counted mareep, meditated, your brain just would not shut off. 

‘I’m actually going insane. I’ve always been bad but this is so much worse than usual’ you start to scratch at your arms, wiggling endlessly until you shoot up and bury your face in your hands to groan, “Fuck that stupid fucking Corbeau.” You curse him vehemently. You’ve been trying to sleep for 4 hours and he’s been on your mind for 3. His judgment, his satisfaction, the anxiety he brings into your life, his control. It sickens you. And those stupid, gorgeous, golden eyes.

You aggressively slap your hands onto either side of your face and squish it, “That’s not what you should be thinking about.” You hiss to yourself. Your eyes drift towards the black box on your dresser but you just glare at it, “I’m not giving in. He can’t have even more control over me.” You state firmly to yourself even as your body begged for rest. Xerneas bless Naveen you wish he’d let you sleep on that bench. For at least a little while. You knew your worsened insomnia was due to anxiety on what each day would look like working for the Syndicate mixed with worry for wherever Urbain had disappeared too. What if he was in trouble? You were trying not to add that worry on top of everything else but it was hard not too since your friend had been gone for almost 4 days with no contact. Maybe he was avoiding Corbeau, or maybe he was hot on the trail of the mystery person he keeps trying to find. 

Either way you spend countless hours staring at the walls, the ceiling, the darkness behind your eyelids. After an eternity of restlessness you jump out of bed and get redressed. You needed to participate in the royale. Nothing else could ease your tension more right now and you were itching to get moving again if you weren’t gonna sleep. 

You battle until you reach your next challenger ticket and then some. You had time to kill and felt like you had nothing to lose at that point. By the time dawn broke and you received your payment and final scores you were already making your way to the Syndicate. Corbeau didn’t want you there until 8 am but it was almost 7. That had to be good enough for the morning shift to be present. You were partially right. The front gate was open with two grunts outside of it but Philippe was nowhere to be seen at the moment and people were still arriving. They let you in anyway and you marched to the elevator impatiently. You felt like you just couldn’t reach Corbeau's office fast enough. You don’t even know what you are looking for. A part of you is just curious about how he’ll react to your sleep deprived self for a second day in a row. The other half of you hoped he would throw you more tedious work so you could work the anxiety out of your system. 

You stride into his office, the lights feeling too bright on your tired eyes but there he was. At his desk like usual. He looks up and you see his jaw feather, his eyebrow twitches and he’s immediately glaring. “I give you half a day off and this is how you enter my office?” 

You just glare at him, refusing to reply. His stare drills straight through you but you can’t bring yourself to meet it properly today. “Are you trying to run yourself into the ground?” He asks next, the smallest hint of curiosity in his tone, “Because if you can’t work for me I’ll just have to use Lida and Naveen-“ 

“No!” You blurt, interrupting him and shaking your head, “I’m perfectly fine to work.” He scoffs at you this time, “You think I’m going to send you out to work for me looking like that? Tarnish my pristine name? Absolutely not.” He motions you forward, “Come here.” Any other day you would have tensed up, refused to obey until he told you what he was about to do but you were too tired to care this time around. Almost no sleep for 2 days was taking its toll. 

You approach his desk and he stands up to meet you as you approach, another red flag that didn’t go off in your brain. What you were focused on was how you were right about your estimate the first time you met, the two of you being around the same height. “Open your mouth.” This breaks you out of your thoughts and you turn your head to the side so you side eye him in distrust. Unfortunately for you his patience hasn’t only been rubbed thin, it’s completely gone this morning. 

Without warning he grabs your jaw, squeezing it just enough for you to gasp and open your mouth in shock as your hands fly up to grab at his wrist. His other hand shoots forward and shoves something into the back of your throat. It’s over before it even started. The hand on your jaw massages your neck to force you to swallow it and then he completely lets go of you, wiping his hands on a purple handkerchief afterwards. 

Your legs almost give out from under you as you try and recover from the shock, one hand holding your own neck where his hand had just been and the other clutching his desk to keep you upright, “Y-you bastard!! What the fuck did you just make me take!!” You sputter, feeling building panic. “Relax. It’s just a sleeping pill. I told you not to test my patience.” He nods over to the other side of the room, “Go lay down on the couch and leave me alone so I can work.”

You feel your eyes brim with tears as the adrenaline dissipates and your feelings start to overwhelm you, but you refuse to let this bastard see you cry. “That. Was not okay.” You seeth, voice shakey. Corbeau waves a hand, “I did you a favor. Now go. Lay. Down. I will not ask you a third time.”

After being forcefully pilled you’d hate to see what would happen if you didn’t do what he asked. You just really couldn’t really believe what just happened to start with. It’s not like he hurt you. If anything, what he just did was nice? In his own extremely twisted way. Either way you shakily make your way over to the couch. All but collapsing into the cushions and curling up. You could already feel your mind clouding, drifting, maybe the pills did actually work but you still have a deep set fear that something will go wrong. 

A few moments later you feel heavy fabric get draped over you, “You’ll be okay. I promise. Sleep.” Corbeau's voice drifts on the outside of your consciousness. His hands touch your head and you feel like whimpering, maybe you do, but he just slides a pillow under your head, “If anything goes wrong I can fix it. You’re in good hands kid.” 

And with those words some of your fear dissipates and you feel oddly comforted as you give into sleep. Maybe he wasn’t so bad…

Chapter Text

You wake up to the soft sound of shuffling paper but an otherwise quiet room. As your eyes flutter open and you come back into consciousness you feel an overall calmness and sense of relaxation. As your memories slowly start to flood back you sit up and rub your face, still trying to process what happened. 

Across the room sits Corbeau, going on with his usual business of shuffling through papers, writing things down, and filing documents. As you observe him you glance down at the blanket he’d thrown over you and admire the large arbok embroidered on it. The fabric is plush and soft to the touch as you run your hands over it in contemplation. Each stitch looks perfect and you can’t help but wonder just how expensive this blanket is.

You have to admit you feel a lot better than before. Less panicked, stable. But you still don’t know how to feel about him shoving a pill down your throat. How his fingers wrapped around your neck and massaged it so you’d swallow. You can still feel the ghost of where his fingertips were pressing into your skin. Your eyes flick back up to watch his hands. They’re slender and graceful as he writes upon a page and you start to wonder how his handwriting looks up close. 

You’re snapped out of your contemplation by his voice. “You’re staring.” His voice has a certain softness to it you’re not used to and you feel your face burn knowing he noticed you staring. “Sorry.” You mumble sleepily. He waves a hand dismissively at your apology, “Down the hall to the left. There’s a change of clothes waiting for you. Feel free to shower.” 

You blink in surprise but nod, “What time is it?” His hand doesn’t stop moving as he replies, “Around 2pm. You’ve been sleeping for about 7 hours.” Before he finally puts his pen down and leans back to look over at you. The next words that come out of his mouth almost leave you speechless. “Are you okay?”

You take a second to answer. Checking in with yourself before nodding slowly, “Yeah, I’m okay.” You see something flash across his eyes but it’s gone so fast you can’t tell what emotion it was. “Good. Apologies for being so...forward but you were a mess.” You can’t help but snort, right back to the insults disguised as apologies it seems. 

He crosses his arms and tsks, “None of that attitude. Listen to me for the first time from now on and we won’t need to do that again.” His eyes narrow into an icy glare, “Now go clean up! I have work for you.” He barks. 

You hang your head sheepishly and scramble up at his demand, “Okay okay!” turning to at least fold the blanket but he hisses at you next, “Leave it.” Which has you scurrying across the room to go down the hallway and find the bathroom. Avoiding his gaze all the while. 

The bathroom you find yourself in feels more like a bedroom due to the size. You shut and lock the door behind you before turning around and letting out a small breath of awe. Black, purple, and gold marbled tile cover the floors and walls, paired with two sinks that adorn the same style of marbled countertop. The sinks have more drawers than you think anyone would ever need in one space, especially a bathroom, and a part of you wants to see if there’s anything in them but you quickly decide against it. In the far corner sits a large pristine tub that’s outfitted with water jets and more buttons than you’d know what to do with. It looks more like a hot tub to you than anything and could comfortably fit 5 people. Next to it is a similarly large shower framed by glass paneling. The shower head also catches your eyes, it’s large, flat and facing straight downwards. You can’t help but wonder how it might be different from a normal showerhead, if its different at all.

As your eyes wander they fall on a pile of nicely folded clothes on the sink counter before dropping to see a pair of black combat boots on the floor nearby. Without even touching them you can tell the boots are nice and you feel bubbling excitement at the thought of trying them on. That excitement is quickly squished when you see a note beside the clothes. ‘Oh boy, what kind of threat is it this time?’ you wonder to yourself as you snatch it up.

Take these as an apology for my roughness this morning. 

You purse your lips. He did seem genuinely apologetic but you still didn’t know how to feel about what had happened. Your mind kept replaying it. It felt both unpleasant and perfectly fine in your mind. If anything you just felt more shocked than any other feeling. A bit angry too. After all he’d taken the choice out of your hands which was really what irritated you. More control for him. 

As far as you could tell the clothes were solid black. You decided you’d see what style they were or if they even fit you after you shower. You strip quickly and turn the shower on, the water cascading down rhythmically. It reminded you of a waterfall and you had a moment of realization. You’d never thought showers could feel more expensive or higher quality than what you experienced in your day to day life. Yet here you are, about to get into the most expensive shower you’ve ever seen and it felt that way too. 

You cautiously slip into the shower and can’t help the groan that comes from your lips. The water feels heavenly. Warm and soothing. You take a second to look around and find the shampoo with ease. You pop the top open and hold it up to your nose. It smells…like Corbeau. A deep earthy scent that reminds you of a pine forest. You’d caught a small whiff of it when he’d grabbed you but now the smell was clear in your mind. ‘I wonder if this is his personal bathroom? I guess I never thought about where he slept or lived in general.’ You shake the thought from your mind. If he did live in the building, and you assumed he did based on the other morning, you’re sure it’s on a different floor than this one.  

To avoid keeping him any longer and risking more reprimand for taking more time out of the day than you already had you do your best to wash up quickly. The scent of the soaps lingers on you as you step out of the shower but you don’t really mind. After grabbing one of the towels to dry yourself off you finally pick up the clothes he provided you. 

As soon as your fingers touch the fabric you shiver. Not only was it cool to the touch but it felt sickeningly expensive. The fabric was higher quality than anything else you’d ever had the privilege of touching. Upon a quick inspection you find that clothes definitely seem intended for working even if they felt lavish. A sports bra, a well fitting t-shirt, some boxers and then to your pleasant surprise a pair of cargo-esk pants that were designed to cuff at the ankles to accommodate wearing boots. The fabric was a rich black color paired with some soft greys on the pants. As you tried the clothes on the only issue you ran into was the sports bra felt just a bit tight. You glared at yourself in the mirror as it hiked up your cleavage and made it more noticeable than it already was, ‘Guess it’ll do’ you relent. If anything you found yourself feeling sassily offended that Corbeau thought your chest was smaller than it was. Regardless it was the most comfortable bra you’ve ever worn and you’d be just fine wearing it for the day. 

You pull on the rest of the outfit quickly and find that the cargo pants are easier to move in than you first assumed. Every part of them was flexible and there wasn’t too much extra fabric. Infuriatingly you had to admit you were extremely pleased with the outfit, it looked nice, felt amazing, and wouldn’t get in your way as you worked. All of which is better than what you were wearing before by miles. You knew you’d need to thank him for it, even if it was an apology from his side the outfit was too nice not to do so. The boots alone were a marvel, your preferred style with all the comfort you’d ever wanted from them.

You swiftly gather the rest of your things, combing your fingers through your hair and striding out of the bathroom. You find yourself in front of Corbeau again, waiting patiently for him to acknowledge you since he’s writing something down and you don’t want to interrupt his thoughts. After another moment of writing he glances up at you. His golden eyes roam over your body as he takes in your new clothes and your general appearance after resting and showering. You feel like his eyes linger on your cleavage a few more seconds than everything else but they flick up to meet your eyes fast enough you brush it off, “I take it the outfit is acceptable? No issues?” 

You nod quickly before pausing for a brief moment at the thought of the bra but you just end up shaking your head, “It’s a wonderful outfit. Thank you.” He leans back and stares down his nose at you, noticing your pause, “What is it?” You feel your face flush and you look down to avoid his gaze, “The bra is just a little tight but it’s not an issue.” You mumble. You flick your eyes back up to look at him when he doesn’t reply and you find him looking away from you, a hint of pink on his cheekbones. He clears his throat gruffly, “Will one size up fit?” You nod quickly, stammering, “Y-yeah that’d fit perfect.” He nods, still staring at some paper on his desk, “I’ll have them sent to you.” Before waving a hand, his rotom zipping in front of him, “Are you ready to work?” 

You nod again, “Yes sir.” Which is a reply that always seems to light his eyes up with satisfaction. The dust of pink on his cheeks that you saw before was already gone as he looks at his phone, “Locals are reported to be having some issues with an alpha Pidgeot, I’d like you to handle it.” 

You nod and your rotom dings with a general area, “If, by chance, you have any issues just send me a message and I’ll come help.” This also catches you off guard. Corbeau personally help you? For work you’re doing to pay him back? Feels odd. “I should be good.” You assure and with that he waves his hand again, “You’re dismissed.” 

You exit the Syndicate ready to work, eager even. After finally sleeping and showering you felt invigorated and the new clothes were a hella nice bonus. You end up finding the Pidgeot on a rooftop, looking giant and intimidating with its bright red eyes. It’s not your first time dealing with alphas and you know it won’t be your last so once you’re in decent range you throw out your own alpha Absol and get to work. 

The fight is harder than you’d anticipated and the amount of running back and forth you were having to do in a small space wasn’t exactly great. You had to admit you were having fun though, as you throw out your Charizard to replace Absol you notice that every move you make feels like butter in your new get up. You were smitten at this point really. Feeling badass and productive. 

The Pidgeot takes out most of your team but you do eventually catch it with a sense of satisfaction. You always preferred to catch pokemon like this to ensure the problem didn’t come back over time. Plus it’s not everyday you spend your energy fighting and catching alphas.

You walk over to the edge of the rooftop and plop down to catch your breath. Leaning back on your hands you let the sun wash over you and it brings a delightful warmth to your skin. Unlike most black clothes you’ve worn, these ones noticeably don’t heat up in the sun like all your other black clothes do. This leaves you wondering what fabric the clothes might be made out of. They felt like they had their own cooling properties and it made you feel refreshed even after running around. Maybe you’d ask. 

You pull out your rotom and decide to call Corbeau. You didn’t ask if you should go back to the office after this ob but figured if you’re already out here and there’s more to do you’d prefer to not backtrack. It rings once before he answers it, his voice dripping on the other side, “Did you handle it or are you calling for help.” You shake your head and laugh before realizing he can’t see you, “No I got it, my ‘target’ has been handled and captured.” you muse back.

“And?” 

“Annnnnnd I was wondering what my next job is. I’ve already wasted a whole day between yesterday and today and I have a debt to pay.” You hum as you kick your dangling feet, still in a good mood. 

“I’ll send you instructions and locations shortly.” There’s a small pause as if he’s deciding if he should say something else or not and you take the chance to pick his brain, “What are these clothes made out of? It’s like they cool themselves or something.” He chuckles, “Even if I told you you wouldn’t be able to afford clothes made the same way.” You scoff, a pout obvious in your voice as you pick at the shirt, “Well damn you don’t have to be mean about it Corbeau, I’m just curious.” 

“You can stay curious then.” He deadpans which makes you flail your hands, “Fine! Forget I asked…Asshole.” You grumble the last part but your tone is laced with amusement. You weren’t actually mad about it, in fact you were having a good time bothering him. Especially since he wasn’t there to glare you into submission. You can practically see his eyebrow twitching through the phone, “Call me that again and I’ll take them back.” He grits out through his teeth. You laugh, “Nuh uh, these are my apology for your bad behavior, you’ll have to pry them off my dead body.” 

He’s silent for several seconds and you start to wonder if he hung up on your bratty ass. Instead you get a chilling, “Don’t tempt me.” and then the line goes dead. You knew angering the man that held a contract and hundreds of thousands of debt over your head was not a smart move but it felt freeing to let loose a little with him. Between his apology for grabbing you and his embarrassment over talking about your bra size he felt a lot less intimidating. 

Moments later your phone dings with a list of new jobs and locations. The tasks given to you are much the same as what you’ve experienced over the last few days. Go handle this pokemon problem, go clean up this mess, go check on the people you delivered packages to yesterday. It all goes smoothly and you have a sense of fulfillment, even as you still get late. 

As you walk through the door you find Lida sitting in the lobby. She gasps as you walk in and jumps up from her seat, “There you are!! You’ve been gone all day!” She runs over and envelopes you in a tight hug which you reciprocate gladly, “What are you still doing up? You’re usually in bed by this hour.” You chide but when she pulls back she completely ignores your comment, “Did you get new shampoo???” 

You feel your face warm up and you shake your head, “No there was a uh- small mishap this morning so I had to shower at the office.” You admit. It not being a total lie but her eyes still blow wide at the description, “Mishap? What kind of mishap??” Followed quickly by a, “Is- is this how Corbeau smells?” Which has you grumbling, “I don’t know!! I- well I was sorda trying not to think about it too hard.” You admit in a huff as she truly steps back and looks at you, “and these clothes, they’re new too, just what type of mess did they throw you into that made you need new clothes!” She exclaims aggressively, stomping her feet like a buneary.

You wave your hands in front of you in an x motion, “It’s really not a big deal! I just got splattered by some toxic sludge and needed to change and wash to make sure none got on my skin.” you lie swiftly, knowing she’d charge into his office herself if she learned that Corbeau had grabbed you earlier. This seems to be enough to calm the angry dancer as her glare turns into a pout and she wraps you into another tight hug, "I'm just glad you’re okay, I don’t know how you’re getting any sleep with this new schedule.” 

You pat her back as she hugs you, “I’ll be getting plenty of sleep tonight don’t worry. How are your dance classes going?” She pulls back and bounces on the balls of her feet with a bright smile, “Great! Me and Staryu are kicking ass like always.” She punches the air enthusiastically and you chuckle, “That’s good, great actually, but what’s NOT good is that you’re not in bed.” You start to make shooing motions at her, “No more staying up until I get home.” you warn, “If you’re concerned just text me, unlike Urbain I WILL answer you.” You add teasingly. 

Her shoulders slump and she lets you herd her towards the elevator, “Okay…I promise I’ll just text you next time.” She relents. You nod approvingly, “Perfect, now let's both get to bed.” 

The two of you say your farewells as you exit the elevator on your floor, you assure her again that she can just text you if she’s worried and with that you find your way to your room. You make it about two steps into your room before you see a package on your bed. You narrow your eyes but walk over to pick it up nonetheless. The same paper wrapping, larger this time, but no address on it at all. You pull your phone out to text Corbeau.

-Did you break into my room?-

He doesn’t take long to reply, of course he’s still awake. -Me? No.-

You roll your eyes, -Uh huh, send someone into my room again and I’ll booby trap it.-

-Did you even open the gift yet?-

You purse your lips, a gift he calls it. Instead of answering you decide to go ahead and open it up. You rip the packaging off and open the box, gasping when you see a jacket sitting inside. You pull it out and it’s made out of the same material as the rest of your new outfit. The style of it matches the pants he gave you, cuffs at the wrists to keep your sleeves out of the way, almost like a jean jacket hoodie combo. Better yet it’s cropped. You know it’ll look amazing on you and it makes you roll your eyes. Maybe he was a perv, dressing you up but frankly you couldn’t care less if it meant you got nice clothing. Under the jacket is a new sports bra, bigger as requested, and a note on top. 

Sorry for underestimating you.

This truly makes you laugh. A bright harmonic laugh as you shake your head and finally text him back, -What a wild note to include with a bra Corbeau- his tone of writing reflecting how he talks which makes you snicker even more. He types for a moment, then stops, then he’s typing again, -That’s what you’re focused on?-

-Of course it is! ‘Sorry for underestimating you’ is just such a dorky ass thing to say when you just misjudged how big my tits are-

-Don’t call them that.-

You cock an eyebrow, deciding to continue to torment him. It’s the least you can do being stuck working for him, -What should I call them then?-

Another pause, -Do you like the jacket or not.-

Your purse your lips, not wanting to inflate his ego but you reply with a truthful, -It’s the nicest thing I’ve ever gotten-

He seems satisfied by this and doesn’t say anything else but you know he read it. You toss your rotom across your bed and hang the jacket up for tomorrow, swapping out the sports bra and tucking the smaller one in a drawer in case you need it another time. Feeling satisfied with the day you take a deep breath and bite your lip in contemplation. Your hands shake slightly but you grab the black box sitting on your dresser and open it. 

Before you can overthink it you pop one of the pills in your mouth and swallow it dry, a slightly sweet taste on your tongue afterwards. You still have anxiety around taking the pills but remembering how confident he was that they wouldn’t harm you you do your best to shrug it off. Luckily for you you don’t need to think about it for long because the second your head hits your pillow you’re out.

Chapter Text

He couldn’t stand you. He should’ve left you sleep deprived and stumbling around because the second you were well rested you started to give him trouble. You did everything he asked of you job wise, and did it well, but your attitude was coming in full force and he couldn’t stand it. You called him an asshole, called him by his name instead of his title and then called what he wrote DORKY? Not to mention your foul mouth. 

Corbeau paces back and forth in his room, jacket off and sleeves rolled up as he runs his hand repeatedly through his hair. With all of your attitude your voice was sweet as you said what you said, he could hear you smiling on the other end of the phone as you bothered him, and you had slept so sweetly too. Your face soft and relaxed, lips partially open-

He lets out an angry growl and rips open one of his bedstand drawers, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He had been trying to quit for a while, knowing it wasn’t good for him, but he craved something that would take the edge off. He considered himself an excellent eye but had somehow misjudged just one measurement. That misjudgement had made her look even better than she already did in the clothes he’d had asked to be made for her. The clothing was laced with Alohan Vulpix fur which created small ice crystals, designed to keep her cool. He didn’t want her passing out while working. He made sure it was black like everything else she chose to wear, black like her namesake. He’d even briefly considered having the stylist add white marbling to the jacket to better represent that but had stopped himself. That was too personal. This was not supposed to be personal. 

He kept replaying how his fingers felt pressing into the soft skin of her throat, the warmth that radiated off of her, the look of both shock and betrayal in her eyes- shit. He felt his dick starting to strain against his pants, just heightening his irritation. He’d never been able to hold up sexual or romantic relations with people, it just never ended well. He was too busy, they were just interested in the money, any partner he tried to have didn’t truly understand his goals or wants. Either that or his want to have intensity in the bedroom turned them off.

You would be no different. He wouldn’t let himself even begin to get his hopes up. Especially when you already seemed to have disdain for him due to the contract he has you under. Corbeau gets halfway through his smoke before he angrily snuffs it out in an ornate ashtray beside his bed, the taste starting to get bitter in his mouth. “No more. Stop thinking about her. You’re better than this.” he snarls at himself before getting ready for bed. 

He leaves himself untouched, refusing to give into pleasing himself at the thought of you. That would just make his want for you worse. And god did he want you. Even more than that he wanted you to want him. He was used to getting anything he wanted whenever he demanded it but he was afraid that approach with you would ruin any chance he had. And he was not about to take that risk.

Chapter Text

You wake up feeling well rested and full of energy. A sense of relief washing over you when you realize you’re still okay after taking the medication for a second time. It’s not that you don’t believe Corbeau, it was just hard not to feel anxiety around a medication made by someone of power like him. You find yourself jumping out of bed and you take your usual quick shower, feeling a small pang of longing for the one you’d used in Corbeau’s office. It had been so much more spacious than the shower bath combo you had in your room. You shake your head quickly, chiding yourself, showering there was a one time thing and you were more than grateful for the accommodations AZ provided you. 

Slipping into your new outfit you find yourself wiggling happily. Pulling the jacket on for the first time felt heavenly and another wave of fondness washes over you for the outfit. The jacket pulls the whole thing together and you grin like an idiot into your mirror, spinning around and admiring how you look. “He may be a shady ass but he does have good taste.” You muse. As you admire yourself you tilt your head back and forth in contemplation before digging through your dresser and pulling out a simple black leather choker. On the front of it hangs an onyx pendant carved to resemble the silhouette of an Absol. The marbled black and white stone brings you joy as you clasp it around your neck. Checking yourself in the mirror one more time you nod happily, “Ugh you look perfect.” You compliment yourself before giggling, pulling on your boots and all but running out the door. 

Naveen is in the lobby today, sinking into one of the chairs contently while watching his rotom with his usual laser focused intensity. You can tell he’s watching his favorite streamer, you couldn’t remember her name at the moment but you recognized her voice as you walked through the lobby. “Morning!” You chirp with a small smile, not expecting him to reply but he does glance up as you pass by and when he does he lets out a gasp so loud and out of character it makes you freeze. “What?!?” you exclaim in slight panic as you look down at yourself and around the room. 

He doesn’t even spare you words as he runs over to you and gingerly feels the fabric of your jacket sleeve, “Wha- Who- How-??” He’s at a loss for words, eyes blown wide as he touches the fabric. You can’t help but giggle, “New clothes, Corbeau, had an incident at the office yesterday.” You answer his questions. Naveen goes slack jawed, “You-” He pinches the bridge of his nose before rubbing his face aggressively, “These have to be custom made, I know the designer. I didn’t even think she was still making pieces like this. You feel how cool they are? That’s from Alohan Vulpix fur, I’m sure of it, do you KNOW how EXPENSIVE these have to be?!?!” 

You feel your face starting to heat up as Naveen freaks out. You knew they were expensive, it was Corbeau you guys were talking about after all, but you had honestly thought Corbeau bought them already made from a shop around town. Not custom ordered them…

“You’re going to work in these?” Naveen asks next, voice turning squeaky in dismay. With this you have to laugh, “Well- that’s sorda what they were given to me for. I don’t exactly have a choice in the matter.” ‘And if I did I would choose to wear these anyway.’ You think to yourself. Naveen’s lips press into a thin line, holding his breath before letting it out in a deep defeated sigh, “You are…so lucky right now.” he grumbles, crossing his arms and stomping back over to his chair to resume his stream. “Thank you?” You giggle again, “Have a good day Naveen.” Before you’re walking out the door to leave him to stew in his grumpiness. 

On your way to the office you repeat the new information to yourself. Expensive, custom ordered, Alohan vulpix fur? The lavishness wasn’t enough to make you not want to wear the clothing but it definitely gave you a new appreciation for the detail and thought put into it. Why Corbeau put so much thought into it you didn’t know but you were thankful either way. 

You all but skip your way into his office. A newfound confidence carries you as you walk through the doors and towards the elevator. Born from rest, your new outfit, and realizing he’s not as scary as you originally thought. It’s not that you were fearless. You knew what he was capable of, you knew if you truly got on his bad side you would pay for it dearly, but he only sent you out to help the city and with that he ‘cared’ enough to apologize. Perhaps honorable was the word you wanted to describe him with but you weren’t sure about that either. 

Even with the new confidence you feel that familiar pit of anxiety in your stomach as the elevator stops at the top floor. The doors slide open and you stride into his office and up to his desk. His elbows are perched on his desk as he leans forward, fingers laced together with his chin resting on them. His eyes are closed and his brows are furrowed in deep thought. You take the moment to admire his facial features freely as you approach. “Morning,” You greet, stopping a few feet from his desk. He probably already knew it was you but it felt rude not to verbally greet him first. Corbeau's eyes blink open, that deep swirling gold zeroing in on you. 

He doesn’t say anything at first, his eyes once again roaming over your body as he makes sure everything is ‘in place’. They end up settling on your neck and he tilts his head as he examines the charm, “Your Absol is very lucky to be so adored.” Your hands trail up to play with the charm and you chuckle, “I’d go a step farther and say I’m lucky to have such a loyal partner.” 

You notice he seems more tired today, his under eye bags darker and deeper set than before, “What happened to taking sleeping pills?” He lets out a soft sigh through his nose and leans back, “None of your business.” His voice has a cold harsh edge to it but you just glare at him, “Oh but me not sleeping was yours?” You sass as your hands plant themselves on your hips. This earns you a glare to match his tone, “Yes it was, you work for me, I on the other hand do not work for you.” 

You just roll your eyes, “Yap yap yap.”

Corbeau’s fist slams into the top of his desk and you jump back with a yelp of both surprise and mild terror at the sudden show of aggression. His eyes are screwed shut and you see the veins in his forehead twitch as he growls, “Not today.” You feel your cheeks burn with shame, you’d taken it too far and you could tell. The sudden tension in the room makes the atmosphere between you two thick. “I’m sorry.” You apologize softly, staring at the ground. The tension dissipates just as fast as it appeared. Corbeau runs his hands through his hair and then he resumes glaring at you. You weren’t sure what button you’d pressed but it definitely wasn’t the right one. “Just don’t do it again. Apologies for my outburst.” He states curtly before shuffling through some papers on his desk, “There’s more alpha pokemon causing issues around the city. Considering you handle Rouge Megas they shouldn’t prove an issue.” You nod, still looking at your feet, “Yes sir.” 

“Look at me.” He snaps, making your eyes fly wide as your head snaps up to meet his gaze. His expression softens as soon as he sees yours, “They’re still dangerous, if you run into issues tell me immediately.” You nod rapidly, relaxing slightly at his softening expression, “I will, promise.” 

With that he nods and waves a hand in dismissal. As you approach the elevator you bite your lip, spinning around to look back at him before you get in the elevator, “Thank you, again, for the clothes. It means a lot to me.” You scurry into the elevator before he can reply. Not needing or wanting it, you just needed him to know that simple truth. 

The next few days go by similarly. You go to his office, you exchange a few words, and then you go out to do the jobs assigned to you. You didn’t know how much debt you were paying back with each job you completed for him but you also didn’t feel the need to ask. Once Urbain showed up it’d be his problem. 

It wasn’t until Friday that you actually ran into an issue. You were dealing with some more alpha pokemon today after clearing out mega crystals the day before and were feeling more tired than usual. You were starting to desperately need the weekend. You kept thinking about sleeping in, going to cafes, spending more personal time with your pokemon. You ended up being so focused on that your focus on your actual work slipped. It was your fault and you knew it and that irritated you even more. 

You were in the middle of battling an alpha Beedrill that had been terrorizing a local cafe when it happened. You didn’t dodge fast enough and before you knew it a blinding sharp pain was shooting through your side as you were thrown into a nearby wall. The impact into the wall knocks the breath out of you before the scream of surprise and pain in your throat can leave your lips. The impact leaves you stunned and gasping for air on your back on the ground, ‘Shit shit shit shit shit’ you try and scramble up in a panic, more pain shooting through your side as you move. The angry buzzing sound of the Beedrill was fast approaching and you knew you only had a few seconds to either move or grab your pokeballs. 

You don’t end up completing either action as you hear a sharp yell from behind you, “Gyarados! Waterfall!” It takes you a second to recognize the voice between the sound of rushing water and your own pain but when his face comes into view it all comes together. 

Corbeau rushes over to you, face contorted in both anger and worry as he scoops you into his arms. You’re not even able to protest as he carries you away from the action, barking orders at his pokemon over his shoulder as he rushes you out of the area. You grit your teeth as you’re moved, one of your hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt, “How- the hell- did you get here so fast.” You gasp. 

He glares down at you, “Now is not the time for questions.” He chides. A moment later he squats down and lowers you onto the ground with a gentleness you didn’t originally think he was capable of. In the distance his Gyarados promptly subdues the alpha that had hit you and makes its way back into its Pokeball. Corbeau’s hands shove up the side of your shirt. You can tell it's torn and you immediately feel bad about ruining the nice clothes he got you. He doesn’t seem to care at all though as his expression becomes grim, “What move did it use?” He asks urgently, “Poison jab.” You gasp out. You feel your heartbeat racing and you start to feel lightheaded, chest rising and falling rapidly, “Just- a graze.” You feel the need to insist. 

Before you can fully get adjusted to being back on the ground he scoops you up again and you grab the front of his shirt with a yelp, “Ow! Corbeau!” You whine, glaring at him but he ignores you as he starts marching you towards the nearest vehicle, “I’m sorry kid but we have to act faster than slower, you’re probably going to pass out in a minute or so. But you’ll be okay.” He talks to you with a calm even tone but you can’t help but feel your heart race with anxiety. What if he was lying to you? What if it was worse than you’d originally thought? He was using that tone that people use to keep people calm when shit was bad and you hated it.

“C-Corbeau.” You clutch the front of his shirt as tight as you can, tugging on it sharply so he looks down at you, “Don’t fucking lie to me.” Instead of being met with a glare like you expected you’re met with a reassuring smile. You’d never seen him smile like that before, not this close either. His teeth flash at you and you notice how pointed they look. You’d never noticed that before but now it was all you could focus on. “I’m not lying to you, just preparing you cause you’re going to feel dizzy and I don’t want you to panic too much. I got you kid.” He swings the car door open and sets you inside but you don’t let go of his shirt right away. You’re still in shock and as he had mentioned you’re starting to feel super lightheaded. It doesn’t even occur to you how hard you’re clinging to him until he’s prying your hands off so he can properly situate you in the vehicle.

“Stop calling me that.” you manage to grumble back as he lets you go. He doesn’t reply to your sass, instead he just closes the door and you hear him barking orders at someone. You notice he sounds farther away than he should and a new wave of dizziness washes over you, ‘Oh shit I am gonna pass out’ you let out a small laugh and lean your head back, ‘Sloppy work Onyx’ you chide yourself before everything goes black.

He should have just sent you home early. He’d noticed you were more tired than usual today, more mentally distant, and yet he still sent you out to work and now you were injured. At the least he should’ve been closer. He’d been loosely tailing you all day to make sure you weren’t pushing yourself too hard without him noticing, so he could jump in if needed, and he’d even failed to do that. He should’ve jumped in sooner. God damnit. 

He’d rushed you back to the Syndicate after seeing the wound. Beedrill poison, like all poison, is not to be messed with. Poison jab alone was a potent move and even just getting grazed had sent her flying and left an oozing gash in her side. It wasn’t bleeding but it was burning which was honestly worse. He just hoped he handled it fast enough where there wouldn’t be a leftover mark. 

After bringing you upstairs he'd immediately stripped you of your jacket and shirt and cleaned the wound, rinsing out and washing off all the poison before applying a Syndicate made balm designed to draw out and neutralize the poison. He kept all types of these on hand, all made slightly different for every type of pokemon related poison he knew about. It was fast acting and soothing to the skin, and most importantly should make sure there’s no scar. As great as he knew this product was, he still needed to get you to swallow some pills for pain, infection, and to fight the poison from the inside if it had made its way deep enough already.

He diligently wraps your torso with a soft gauze to keep the balm on your skin, then a second layer of sticky gauze to keep that secure and your injury safe from further harm. Afterwards he sits you up the best he can and gently opens your mouth. He feels bad for forcing more pills down your throat, especially with you not being awake, but he’d promised he’d take care of you and these were needed. He does them one at a time, setting them on the back of your tongue, gently pouring some water into your mouth, and then massaging your neck and jaw to help you swallow them in your unconscious state. He’d apologize for it profusely later. 

Once you’re successfully medicated he scoops you up and carries you from the bathroom into his bedroom. It was more comfortable than the couches and you’d have more space to move once you woke up. He’d already decided this was the last time he was sending you out on a job alone, maybe the last time he'd send you out to work for him at all. Corbeau found himself wishing that the Urbain kid would show back up so he could settle the debt with him and take you out of it.  

He lays you down gingerly, throwing his blankets over you and making sure you’ll be comfortable. This isn’t how he imagined the first time you’d be in his bed would go. Corbeau stands up sharply, softly cursing himself. This was not the time to be thinking about that. She was hurt. It was his fault. And she was gonna hate him for it. He just knew it. 

Corbeau grabs a chair from another room and sets it beside the bed, sitting down to keep diligent watch over you. Making sure you are sleeping soundly and not in pain, making sure you don't need anything else, most of all making sure you’re not alone when you wake up. 

A few hours later Philippe enters the room and bows, a tray with tea and some sandwiches in his hands, “You should eat boss. Maybe even let me take watch so you can rest.” Corbeau scoffs at the second comment but gratefully takes the cup of tea offered, “I would rather cut off my hand than risk not being here when she wakes up.” 

A low rumble comes from Philippe’s chest, a chuckle, “No need to be so hasty. You can keep your hands.” One side of Corbeau’s lips tugs up into a wry smile, “Sorry.” Philippe shakes his head and sets the tray down on the bedside table, “You reek of guilt, I could smell it all the way downstairs, so can everyone else. It was an accident, and definitely not your fault.” 

Corbeau scrunches his nose, taking his glasses off  and letting them hang from his neck as he rubs his face as he shakes his head, “It is mine though, I’m the only reason she was out there.” Philippe actually snorts, clapping Corbeau on the shoulder, “She did that everyday before meeting you and would’ve done it everyday if she hadn’t met you.” But he understood Corbeau wouldn’t accept those words until you said them, “Call if you need anything else.” He adds before leaving Corbeau to his silent watch. 

Chapter Text

The first thing you feel is how your head is pounding, the next thing you feel is how much your side aches, but the third thing is a lot nicer. Soft warm sheets and a plush pillow, they smelled just like the forest floor…like Corbeau. You take in a deep breath, then another, gathering your thoughts, letting the memories flood back in. You’d been hit, he’d been there to help you.

You let your eyes flutter open slowly, blinking multiple times to adjust to being awake again. Your eyes feel gunky and as you blink the headache behind your eyes flares. “Ow…” you whimper meekly, scrunching your eyes shut and lifting your hands to rub at them. You hear movement to your left and realize you’re not alone. You let your hands drop to your sides and look over to see who’s been keeping you company. 

Corbeau had stood up and looked to be grabbing some medication and some water. He swiftly makes his way over to your side and sits at the edge of the bed, “What hurts?” His tone is deep and soft around the edges as his eyes flick over you. “My head- is the worst right now.” You admit, voice gravely from exhaustion and disuse. He nods and offers you the pill, “Painkiller, if you want it.” You waste no time, taking it out of his hands gratefully and popping it into your mouth. You try to take the water from him next but your hands shake to the point Corbeau just holds the glass up to your lips for you, gently tipping it so you can swallow. 

After taking the medication your head flops back onto the pillow and a long sigh escapes your lips. “Thank you.” He nods curtly and sets the water down on the side table. His hands hover for a moment before dropping back into his lap like he can’t quite decide what to do with them but you don’t even notice. You breathe for a while longer before your hand reaches out for him, grasping at the air. You see him hesitate but when he finally gives you his hand you squeeze it and smile, “Now are you gonna tell me how you got there so fast? Stalking me are you.”

Corbeau rolls his eyes immediately, “Awake for all but a minute and already giving me sass? I expected at least 20 minutes of normal conversation from you.” He chides, putting your hand back at your side. This makes you crack a smile and you laugh, only wincing slightly at the pain in your side but the stupid smirk never leaves your face, “20 minutes? Your faith in me is astounding.” It was his turn to crack a smile before shaking his head, “I was tailing you today. You seemed tired. But I still wasn’t fast enough to jump in when it really mattered.” He says the last part ruefully, the smile turning bitter.

You can’t help but scoff, was he serious? “Oh please don’t be so dramatic. If anything it was my fault for being so distracted and on top of that it was just an accident. No one’s fault.” You reach out and poke his knee, knowing he wouldn’t dare threaten you in your ‘vulnerable’ state which gives you more room to bully him, “Have you been sitting here feeling bad for yourself this whole time? I thought I’d be getting an earful when I woke up about my sloppy work. Not hearing that you’ve almost been in tears.” Your voice develops a snicker to it and he gives you the most incredulous look you’ve seen yet, quickly morphing into indignation as a blush dusts his cheeks, “I have not been crying!” He snaps, “And I haven’t been feeling sorry for me I’ve been feeling sorry for you. I’m the one that sent you out there in the first place.” 

You laugh, you can’t help it. He’s- he’s cute. Cute and spicy. You wave a hand, “Corbeau, you’re ridiculous.” Which earns you another huff and a deeper glare, “How the fuck am I ridiculous?” You give him the biggest shit eating smirk you can, “Because you care, you feel guilty and apparently you’ve been letting it eat at you. You’ve done nothing wrong and neither have I. If anything I feel guilty for ruining the shirt you got me!”

He scoffs, mirroring the same baffled face you had a second ago. “Th- you get hit by a Beedrill and you’re worried about the shirt I got you??” You nod, flailing, “Well yeah!! It’s expensive! Naveen told me as such. Even told me the little secret behind why the fabric stays cold.” Corbeau continues to glare at you though it holds no actual heat behind it now, “The shirt is not more important than you are, I already ordered a replacement.” 

His words catch you off guard and you feel your face heat up. You hope he doesn’t notice as you wave a hand, “See what I mean? I feel bad about something that’s not my fault that you think I shouldn’t feel bad about. And you feel bad about something that’s not your fault that I think you shouldn’t feel bad about.” As you put it that way Corbeau can’t help but relent slightly, you’d made a good point and he couldn’t argue against that.

You see confliction run across his face before he sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “Fine.” Which makes you smile again, “Can you run me through what you’ve done so far? I feel the bandage but…I’m afraid to look at it.” You admit. His attention is drawn from his feelings back to you and your care, “I cleaned it off, applied a neutralizing ointment and bandaged it. Then I-“ he pauses for the smallest moment before continuing, “Gave you a painkiller, antibiotic, and an oral antidote in case the ointment wasn’t enough.” You nod along, knowing he’d paused because he’d force fed you pills again but you just pat his knee, “Thank you. You didn’t have to do all that.” 

He rolls his eyes and then side eyes you, “And let you die on the ground tied to my name? I think not. Bad press.” His tone has a harmonic tilt to it and you start giggling, “Ah yes, why you really saved me. Fear of bad press.” You drawl, “How heroic.” You attempt to sit up more, wincing slightly but you’re determined to get up at least a little bit. Corbeau reaches out on instinct, helping pull you into a sitting position, “If it still hurts you shouldn’t be moving.” He warns but you just shrug, “It just aches a bit, doesn’t feel all that bad.” 

He opens his mouth to say something but decides against it just as fast as he stands, “Want some food?” You think about it and nod, realizing just how hungry you are, “That’d be nice, but really I can just go back to the hotel, I’m fine.” He shoots a heated glare over his shoulder at the suggestion, “You’re not leaving until I say so.” The statement sends shivers down your spine. He said it in good nature but the threat was still there. You hold your hands up in surrender, “Okay! No leaving until I get approval from the boss, I get it.” 

He seems satisfied enough by this and starts walking towards the door, “Stay put, I’ll be back with food.” 

Once he leaves you take the time to roam your eyes over his room. You’d never thought you’d actually see it. Or at least not under these circumstances. Everything looks lavish, expensive. That’s no surprise to you. Most of what you see is some form of black, grey, and the same deep maroon and purples he wears to match his partner. One corner of the room has a giant beanbag with loads of pillows on and around it. You deduce it to be a reading corner by the looks of all the books he has on the shelves. To be honest a part of you really wished you were over there right now because it just seems so comfortable. The whole wall opposite you is covered in floor to ceiling shelves, mostly filled with books but also with some plants and other ornate decorations. He seems partial to cacti as you examine them from afar. 

Bringing your attention back to the bed you’re in you take note of how giant it is. Way bigger than needed but extremely comfortable. As you think about it it occurs to you that it might be so big to accommodate his pokemon. This thought ran wild in your head as you imagined him sleeping with his giant friends, how cute.

You’re broken out of your daydream by Corbeau returning. He’s holding a tray that has a bowl of steaming liquid in the middle along with a small assortment of simple snacks. He sits back down in the chair by the bed, setting the tray down on the side table and stirring the food, “Chicken porridge. It’s on the bland side but easy to eat.” You nod and give him a small smile, “I wouldn’t care if you fed me a rock right now, I’m starving.” You admit in playful dramatics.  

He completely ignores your comment and picks up a spoonful of the soup, lightly blowing on it and cupping his hand under it to catch any drips before holding it up to your mouth. You feel your face heat up and you’re sure it turns bright red but you take the bite to avoid it dripping all over him. “I can feed myself.” You mumble after you swallow but he continues to ignore you. Based on how shaky you were when you tried to take the water earlier he didn’t trust you to feed yourself something hot.

He repeats the same process a handful more times until the soup is halfway gone, finally setting the spoon down, “Let that sit for a bit, you can feed yourself the rest once we’re sure you’re not throwing up.” Your face is still burning red in embarrassment of being fed by Corbeau but you nod in acknowledgement. 

Taking a moment to try and recover some of your pride you motion at his plants, “I like your cacti, I’m a succulent fan myself.” He glances over his room and nods, “Both easy to take care of and terribly picky at the same time, all worth it when they bloom.” Before you can try and make more small talk he stands up again, opening a dresser drawer and pulling out a metal tin and some gauze, “It’s about time to change your bandage. I’ll show you once and then you can do it yourself. Twice a day, once in the morning, once at night, until the mark is gone.” 

You nod, feeling way more flustered about the thought of him touching you than you probably should. “It won’t leave a scar?” He shakes his head, “It shouldn’t no.” Which does give you some relief. He helps you sit up fully, legs dangling over the side of the bed. As you move you become painfully aware that you’re just in your sports bra and your pants. You knew the shirt had to be removed since it was damaged but the thought of Corbeau pulling it off left you speechless. Your face burns even more and you do your best to avoid his eyes as he moves around.

He seems to pay your embarrassment no mind as his hands diligently remove the wrapping, exposing the gash to the air. You suck in a sharp breath. The air stung but the feeling of his fingers brushing against your abdomen was what had pulled the reaction from you. He grabs a soft cloth and wipes off the leftover balm from before, eyes narrowing as he examines the damage. You feel your breath catch as he glares at your skin, what was wrong with you, he was just helping you out and you were becoming a flustered mess. 

Without another comment he grabs the tin and opens it, scooping up some of the purple tinged remedy with two of his fingers before sliding it over the space, “Don’t rub it in, that’ll just irritate it more.” He instructs. You hiss as he applies the balm, it stung like hell, but do your best to stay still. “It stings first but it’ll feel soothing soon. If you can’t apply the bandage yourself, get a friend to help you, not too loose, not too tight.” He adds as his hands work to replace the bandage around your waist. Every brush of his hands leaves an echo on your skin and a part of you wished he’d just leave them there so you could memorize what it felt like. 

He finishes faster than you thought he would, or maybe just faster than you wanted him too, as a few seconds later he’s pulling his hands back and putting the supplies away. “Thank you.” You manage to get out, staring down at your hands to try and distract yourself. He nods, also quiet as he tidies up the space. “I sent Philippe out to let your friends know about what happened, I’m sure they’re anxious. It’d be best if you call them before bed.” He pushes his glasses up farther on his face, “I’d like to continue to monitor you until morning to make sure the poison is fully out of your system. It’ll count towards your work hours. Consider it workers compensation for your injury.” He waves a hand through the air casually, “I’ll be in the other room to give you privacy. Just call my name if you need me.” 

You’re not even able to thank him again before he disappears, striding out of the room without another word. Selfishly you wish he’d stay. It was a ridiculous want and you knew it. You’re not anything special, just another person under his contract, an up and coming trainer he wants to use to his advantage. You weren’t stupid, he knew your growing strength and he was using it. At least you were helping the city but part of it left a pang in your stomach. You wanted to interact with him outside of a contract. 

Doing your best to bury your feelings you pull out your rotom. There’s a variety of texts from Lida and Naveen all asking about if you are okay or not. Instead of reading through them and texting them back you just give Lida a video call. It’s answered almost immediately and Lida and Naveen’s worried faces pop onto your screen. “Are you okay??? He didn’t kidnap you? I’ll kill Corbeau if it was his fault!!” Lida starts to seethe on the other end. You start shaking your head aggressively, “I’m fine! Lida! I promise! It was NOT his fault, he’s the only reason I’m in such good shape.” You give them your best smile, “It was my fault I was distracted, got hit by a Beedrill but he handled the poison and I should be as good as new in a few days.”

Both of your friends start to relax as you talk but Lida starts pouting next, “Then why aren’t you home yet? He’s not keeping you against your will is he?” ‘Well…not technically…’ You muse to yourself, “Nope! He just wants to monitor to make sure the poison is fully gone by morning, better safe than sorry considering that’s like- his whole thing. Poisons.” You wave a hand around. “It’ll count towards Urbain’s debt too so,” You stick your tongue out like a lizard to be goofy, “Might as well.”

Naveen rubs his chin and sighs, “We’re glad you’re okay. If Urbain doesn’t get home this weekend we’re going to start sweeping the city from top to bottom for him. I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to keep taking these jobs if you have increased risk of getting hurt.” You shrug, “Guys it’s fine, I do agree with finding Urbain but I would’ve been throwing myself into danger anyway. We all do that everyday. We handle Rouge Megas.” Lida shakes her head and scrunches her nose, “Even so, it’s not good to be tied up with the Rust Syndicate. When do you think you’ll be getting home?” 

“I should be home tomorrow morning if all goes well but I will keep you all updated.” You give them another big smile and a thumbs up, “For now I’m going to get more rest.” They both nod and echo the sentiment that you need to rest up and recover. The three of you say good night before you finally hang up. You flop back onto the bed with a grunt, rubbing your eyes again. Fuck your feelings. Catching fancy for, for lack of better words, a mob boss. It was insane. He was handsome and he had taken care of you, that’s all he needed to do to have you enamored apparently.

You sit back up and pull the food tray into your lap, the balm under your bandage was starting to feel soothing against your skin just as he said. He was a man of his word at the very least. You finish the food provided and set the tray back to the side. You have a moment of considering going out of the room to find Corbeau but knew you’d get scolded for it. You also consider calling for him but without needing anything you’d get scolded for that too. He wasn’t your friend. He was your boss.

You lay on your back and pull his sheets up around you, doing your best to get comfortable with the goal of sleeping to pass the time faster. After your familiar pattern of switch position, stare at the wall, switch position, stare at the ceiling you begin to get impatient. You’d already been trying to sleep for an hour but it was evading you. 

Finally you sit up again, “Corbeau?” You call out, voice sounding way more pathetic than you wanted it to sound. He’s at the door in seconds, “Yes?” You bite your lip and play with your hands, not being able to look at him now that he was there, “I can’t sleep,” You admit, “Can you- do you- um.” You start rubbing your face aggressively, were you really about to ask this man to stay in the room with you all night? “I sound stupid. Sorry. One second.” You snort, face still in your hands. He doesn’t say anything but you hear him walk farther into the room followed by the shuffling of fabric. When you finally gather the confidence to look back up you see him setting his jacket against the back of the chair. His hands reach up to skillfully loosen his tie which he also sets down, closely followed by him setting his glasses on a nearby shelf.

You decide to just watch him at this point, hypnotized by his movements alone. He rolls up the sleeves of his purple button up and you gasp. As he exposes his skin you see dark swirling patterns on his forearms, the start of what you can assume are full sleeve tattoos. He pauses his movements to glance over at you and you cover your mouth, “Sorry. I didn’t realize you had tattoos. They look beautiful.” He listens to you and examines his forearms, “They are beautiful.” he agrees simply. 

He moves to the other side of the bed and sits down, slipping his shoes off. As he does so you lay back down, turning to lay on your side and watch his silhouette. He doesn’t get under the blankets as he lays on his back, turning his head to look at you, “Are you going to stare at me until you fall asleep?” He cocks an eyebrow as he asks it and you get the feeling he’s making fun of you. You huff, puffing out your cheeks with a harmless glare, “Well it beats staring at the wall for hours, it’s nice to at least have company.” 

One side of his lips pull up into what you can only describe at a sly smirk, “You’re getting oddly comfortable with spending time with someone like me.” You hum, feeling bold so you reach out to trace the tattoos on his forearm, “And what are you like Corbeau?” His smile falters, turning into a glare. You swear you see some color make its way to his cheeks but it's so dark it’s hard to tell. “Stop asking me stupid questions. Go to bed.” He grunts suddenly, grabbing your hand and putting it back at your side just like earlier. 

You feel a pang of rejection but just nod, trying to relax. You close your eyes and focus on evening your breathing while also listening to the sound of his. It’s comforting for him to be in the room with you and before long you find yourself drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

Chapter Text

The next morning you wake up to find Corbeau still in bed with you. As your eyes flicker open you find him sitting up with a book in his hand and glasses back on his face. His sleeves are still rolled up and you can’t help but admire his tattoos again in the morning light. They seem to be done in a Yakuza style and you wonder how much of his body is covered. His face is sharp, brows scrunched in focus and eyes drifting along the page. Even when reading he managed to look angry in one way or another. 

“Good morning,” you purr sleepily, rubbing your eyes. His eyes flick over to you and he snaps the book shut, setting it aside, “How are you feeling?” You move to sit up, scrunching your nose in slight discomfort as your side still aches but once you’re in a sitting position you throw him a reassuring smile, “Feel great! Just a little achy.” You assure, running your fingers through your hair and covering your mouth to yawn.

He watches you intently, noting the mild discomfort in your movements and getting up to grab you painkillers. Pouring a new cup of water he hums, “You’re recovering well. You’re free to go back to the hotel and rest without worry.” He walks over and hands you the water and medication, “I’ll send you home with a bag of everything you need.” 

You listen to him and nod slowly, pursing your lips, “Do I still get workers comp on bed rest at the hotel?” You inquire in a joking manner, taking the medication gratefully. He stares down his nose at you, “No. It’s the weekend.” He deadpans and you find yourself giggling, “I guess that’s fair enough.” You muse, continuing to sip at the water he’d offered. He nudges his glasses farther up his nose and nods towards the bedroom door, “Your clothes are waiting in the bathroom. You’re free to shower while I gather the rest of your things.” 

You can’t help but perk up at this, the thought of getting to use his shower again making you more excited than it really should. “Take your bandage off before showering. I’ll help you put on a new one after.” He adds, leaning against one of his shelves as you make your way out of his bed, “Thank you Corbeau,” you hum happily, stretching and making your way out of the room to enjoy the shower. You pause at the doorway and look over your shoulder, his eyes still on you, “Seriously, I appreciate it.” You insist before slipping out.

You find the bathroom without issue and shut the door behind you, wasting no time in stripping, peeling off the bandage, and hopping in the shower. A content groan comes from your lips, followed by a small hiss when the water hits your side. You wash up diligently, avoiding scrubbing your side and once you finish you take a look at the damage in the mirror. A small gasp escapes your lips, the mark takes up about 4 inches of your side and is a raised deep black and purple. Similar to a bruise in color. You let your fingers brush over it lightly and frown, hopefully Corbeau’s word held up and you didn’t end up leaving a mark. Scars are cool and all but this one didn’t look very appealing. At least it didn’t feel as bad as it looked.

You dry your hair off and find a matching shirt to the one that’d gotten torn on the counter along with your jacket. You grab them but only slip on your sports bra due to needing to put on more balm and a bandage. You walk out of the bathroom and back into Corbeau’s room, finding him setting various things in a bag for you as promised, “It looks so much worse than I thought it would,” you comment as you walk back in. He looks over, examining your side from afar and nods, “It looked even worse yesterday.” He states, nodding at the side of the bed and you take a seat obediently with a small, “Oh.” No wonder he’d looked so panicked when he’d found you.

He opens up the same tin from last night and repeats the process of bandaging you. You once again find yourself wishing he’d leave his hands on your waist but you stay as still as you can as they work around you. They have a warmth to them that leaves you wanting more. Once he finishes he packs up the bandages and balm into the bag and zips it up. You pull your shirt over your head, followed quickly by the jacket, hoping he couldn’t see how your skin had started to flush. 

He double checks that the bag is closed and nods, “Everything’s labeled, if you need anything else call.” He starts rolling down his sleeves, grabbing his tie and then his jacket, “I’ll escort you back, make sure you don’t get into any more trouble.” He adds. You roll your eyes, “Ha ha ha, you act like I go looking for it.” Standing up you grab the bag, “And I can get home just fine on my own.” 

He shoots you that all too familiar glare, “It wasn’t a choice.” Which promptly has you shutting your mouth and just nodding. The two of you make your way out of the Syndicate building and you find a black car waiting for you at the entrance. He opens the side door for you and you slip inside with a thank you, getting comfortable. The car seats are a deep burgundy leather and you run your hands over them, just as expensive as everything else he owned. A privacy window separates you and the driver and you wonder if it’s also sound proof.  

Corbeau gets in on the other side and the two of you ride in silence back to the hotel. Once you arrive he gets out and opens your door before you can even touch the handle, “Get actual bed rest. No ZA Royale, no Rogue Megas.” He says it in a tone that tells you if you do go against his instructions you’ll get more than an earful. You hop out of the car and nod, “Don’t worry boss, I don’t plan on going anywhere.” 

He just nods and that seems to be the end of it but in a rush of adrenaline you grab his arm. You pull him in to kiss his cheek, “Thank you Corbeau.” You whisper, squeezing his arm and then letting him go just as fast as you’d grabbed him. You feel your heartbeat racing in your ears and you start marching towards the front doors of the hotel, too nervous that you’d crossed a boundary to stay and see his reaction up close. As you slip into the hotel you spare a glance over your shoulder and see him standing beside his car with a shocked expression on his face, speechless and cheeks red. You feel a deep sense of satisfaction seeing someone like him so flustered and a smirk appears on your face before the hotel doors swing closed behind you. 

Your attention is quickly stolen by the sound of Lida and Naveen gasping, “You’re back!!” Lida runs towards you but stops short, just grabbing your shoulders to be mindful of your side, “Are you okay? How are you feeling? It doesn’t hurt too bad does it? Do you need to sit down?” She hits you with an onslaught of questions that has Naveen setting a hand on her shoulder, “Lida, let her breathe.” He reminds evenly and she lets you go to slap a hand to her forehead, “Sorry! We’ve just been so worried.” 

You give them both a reassuring smile, “I’m fine! It only aches a little bit and otherwise I feel good.” You hold up the bag Corbeau packed for you, “And I was sent home with everything I need. All that’s left is for me to go lay in bed and rot for a few days.” You joke. Lida examines the bag, “I guess he’s not all bad, I’m just glad you’re okay.” She smiles again, “Naveen and I will take turns checking in on you! I’ve already made some sandwiches if you want one too.” You nod along and smile, "Sandwich sounds great.” 

After getting you set up with some food Lida triple checks that you're okay. After another round of reassurance you’re left alone to lay in bed and relax. You find yourself replaying the look on Corbeau’s face after you kissed his cheek. How he managed to be so handsome, so scary, AND so cute at the same time you didn’t know but it was insufferable. 

You spend the day relaxing as instructed until you hear a loud commotion in the hallway. The elevator door opens and you hear Lida’s high pitched voice hurriedly explaining something to someone else. Before you can fully process who all is in the hallway there’s a heavy knock on the door, “Onyx!!” Urbain's voice calls anxiously from the other side, “Onyx!! Can I come in!” 

You jump up out of bed and all but rush to the door, swinging it open, “Urbain???” Is all you’re able to get out of your mouth before you’re bulldozed. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close, “I’m so sorry!! Im so so sorry, are you okay??” You can’t help but wince as he squeezes you, “Urbain- where the FUCK have you been.” You shove him back and slap his arm, “We were worried sick about you!!!” You scold vehemently. 

He hangs his head like a kicked dog, lower lip jutting out, “I’m sorry! I was working with Jett and Vinnie on trying to find some better solutions on the Rogue Mega situation, and before that I swear I was hot on the trail of a new lead, and before that-“ he waves his hands and looks at you sheepishly, “I was just really distracted and had my stuff turned off so I could focus.” He ends off

You give him the most disbelieving look you can muster, “And not ONCE did you consider letting us know?” You ask, feeling a pang of irritation in your stomach as he just shrugs. He scratches the back of his head and gives you a sheepish smile, “No...?”

You cross your arms, glaring at him, “Do you know what we’ve had to deal with since you were gone?” And he immediately starts waving his hands around again, “I know! Lida told me! I’m so sorry I didn’t realize how bad the interest was and I just- forgot about it. But he shouldn’t have contacted you guys!” You start to feel lightheaded with disbelief, was he really that fucking clueless? “And she told me you’re hurt!! How bad is it? I’m soooo sorry.” He whines, grabbing your shoulders again and examining every inch of you. 

You scoff in disbelief and grab his wrists, “I’m fine! Just got nicked in the side by a Beedrill. But it WOULD have been nice not to randomly learn my friend is 1,000,000 pokedollars in debt and that since he was off the map I would be responsible for it.” He groans and drops to his knees, slapping his hands together and bowing his head in the most dramatic display of an apology you’ve ever seen, “It won’t happen again! I’ll fix it I promise.” He swears up and down and you can’t help but feel amused by it. Truthfully you were glad you ended up needing to work for Corbeau, “I’m just glad you’re okay.” You pull him back to his feet and brush off his shoulders, giving them a solid pat, “Did you find any better ways to deal with Rogue Megas? Or are we still stuck in the same boat.”

He sighs, “Same boat as before, if anything they’re going to try and increase the speed of mega crystal removal but that’s all we got right now.” You nod along, “Well next time let us know before you disappear, and PLEASE don’t make any more deals with the mob, this loan is bad enough.” He hangs his head again, “I won't, I promise, I’ll make it right starting tomorrow.” 

With that you shoo Urbain out of your room, giving Lida a small smile as she’d been watching from the hallway, “I’m still good before you ask,” you assure her before pointing a scolding finger at Urbain, “No more running off.” Which is met by more apologies. After closing your door you feel a sense of disappointment, it was great Urbain was back, and not being in a contract with Corbeau was going to work out better for everyone, but you’d started to get used to your daily check ins. 

Once night time hits you work on replacing your bandage. The mark is already looking smaller even compared to this morning and you take a picture of it before wrapping yourself up. You send the picture to Corbeau with a -Still improving- message attached. You didn’t need to, he didn’t ask, but you wanted to. 

After finishing up for bed and getting under the covers you get a -I’m glad- in reply which leaves you giggling. No period and two words? A miracle from him all things considered. It’s not long until you’re drifting off to sleep again.

The rest of the weekend goes like clockwork, wake up, change your bandage, send an update to Corbeau, repeat at night. It’s not until Monday afternoon that you get a text that sends a shiver down your spine. 

-My office.-

-Now.-

Something about the messages has you scrambling to get up and get changed, running your hands through your hair and running out the door. Were you in trouble? Has something else gone wrong?

Once you reach his office all your questions are answered. The elevator doors slide open and you see Urbain in front of Corbeau’s desk, waving his hands around and all but yelling at the Syndicate boss while Philippe stands a few feet away. “It wasn’t even part of the contract that you could contact them!! And she got hurt because of you!!” Alarm bells start going off in your head when you hear Urbain but it’s when you see Corbeau’s face that the true horror sets in. He was livid.

In fact he looked beyond livid, he looked about ready to execute Urbain where he stood and Philippe looked just as unimpressed. “Urbain!!” You run into the room and grab his arm, yanking him back and dragging him towards the elevator, “Pissing the Rust Syndicate off is NOT on our to-do list, or do ever list! What the fuck are you doing!!” You hiss. He yelps when he’s suddenly grabbed, doing a double take, “O-onyx? What are you doing here?” You make quick work of shoving him back into the elevator, “I’m here to clean up your mess, again!” You hit the button for the bottom floor but step out so only Urbains in the elevator, “Go wait outside!” You bark, glaring daggers at the younger boy. You see his face flash with guilt and he hangs his head as the doors slide closed. 

Once they’re closed you feel your heartbeat in your throat. After seeing Corbeau’s expression even you were afraid to turn around and meet his wrath. You take a few steadying breaths and spin around, bowing deeply, “I am so sorry for his bad behavior.”

You’re met with silence but you make no move to come up from your bow. You’d been in decently good graces with Corbeau throughout this whole ordeal but you knew that no one could talk to him like that and not face consequences. You were amazed Urbain was still standing when you got here.

You hear some shuffling and then the sound of footsteps approaching you. This time you feel your heart drop to your stomach and a sense of dread starts to overtake you. Corbeau stops in front of you and you find yourself staring at his feet but you still don’t dare lift your head. His fingers brush your hair out of your face and you shudder as his finger tips slowly trace down your face to your chin. He grabs your chin between his thumb and pointer finger roughly, lifting your head up so you can meet his fiery gaze, “I’m not done with you yet. I’ll see you at the hotel later.” 

Your blood goes cold, why would he be at the hotel later, what is he planning after the stunt Urbain just pulled. You find it within yourself to swallow thickly and squeeze out a meek, “Yes sir.” He holds your gaze for a few moments longer, eyes narrowed in a liquid gold that burns into your soul, “Dismissed.” His fingers squeeze your chin tighter and then he lets you go, leaving you shaking like a leaf in the wind. 

You couldn’t leave his office fast enough, heart racing in your ears as you make your way back outside. You find Urbain sitting on a bench nearby and your fear turns into anger as you stalk over and grab Urbain’s arm, yanking him up and marching back towards the hotel. He yelps again, “Ow! I’m sorry! I just- I couldn’t help it!” You let him go and spin around, blood boiling, “Couldn’t help yelling at Corbeau of the Rust Syndicate?! Have you gone completely mad? You got yourself into this mess and I tried to help dig you out, and then you go and turn around and start digging deeper!” You couldn’t look at him at this point, spinning around to keep marching away. He runs after you, trying to keep up with your pace, “Look- I’m sorry I fucked up again I just- I just care and you got hurt because of a job he sent you on!” 

You don’t let up on your pace, “A job I wouldn’t have been on if you hadn’t taken that loan Urbain! I figured you’d go work out a new agreement with him but obviously I should’ve come with you.” You start to rub your face, “I just- cmon Urbain, really?” You stop again and turn around to face him. He almost runs into you at your sudden turn, stumbling to a stop and hanging his head, “I knowwwww Onyx truly I’m- I’m sorry.” He looks up with the biggest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen and you begrudgingly do the best you can to calm yourself down. He cared. He let his feelings get out of control but he did care, “Okay look, apparently Corbeau is going to be coming by the hotel later. Let’s just see what he says and go from there.” You offer.

He nods solemnly, “Okay…” The two of you finish your walk home in silence after. You can feel Urbain’s mood slowly lifting as you walk and shake your head. He was always so quick to bounce back and look on the bright side of things but you couldn’t say the same for yourself. The look on Corbeau’s face hadn’t just been angry, it’d felt hungry. This fact both scared you and sent a thrill through your body. Scared of what he was planning, but thrilled at the implication of his expression and his words. He wasn’t done with you yet and you weren’t done with him.

Chapter Text

As an apology Urbain insists on making his signature croissant curry for everyone (minus Naveen) and you have to admit you’d missed eating with the whole group. As you’re all finishing up dinner and chatting about your plans for the rest of the week you hear the front doors swing open. You feel your heart leap in anticipation and anxiety, it had to be him. 

“Hello! Anyone here?” Corbeau's smooth voice calls from the lobby. The four of you exchange worried glances as you scurry up and into the main room. You all push through the doors and see AZ already approaching the front desk. Corbeau shoots a small smile towards your group as you all stumble through the dining room doors together, nodding as he looks around the space, “The infamous Hotel Z, not bad at all.” 

His eyes fall back on your group as the four of you struggle to find words for different reasons, all anticipating his next move. This draws a laugh from his lips, “What’s got you all on edge? I’m just here to book a room. Or are you all too fancy for someone like me?” Urbain’s the first one to find his voice, waving his hands back and forth in front of him, “No! Not at all, we’d be happy to room you for the night.” Corbeau’s eyes drill into the younger man but he nods, that same polite smile returning, “Good.” 

He approaches the front desk and stares up at AZ. It’s comical really, seeing someone with as much presence as Corbeau being towered over by AZ. “You really are huge old man. Rumor is you’re 3000 years old. I’m not usually one for rumors but this one feels like it rings true.” Corbeau waves a hand without waiting for a reply, “I’d like your best room please.” 

AZ hands him some paperwork to fill out and Corbeau fills it out with a flourish, chuckling to himself, “Occupation? Handyman will do.” Which has you covering your mouth to stifle your giggles. Without so much as another glance towards the four of you he hands AZ back the paperwork and smiles, “It’s time for me to retire for the night, I hope you all have a pleasant evening.” And just as fast as he came he was disappearing into the elevator. 

You look over at your friends and Lida’s jaw is practically on the floor, “Wh- why does he want to stay here??” Naveen squints, “I don’t know…but it’s definitely suspicious.” Urbain looks the most nervous of the four of you, shuffling on his feet and wringing his hands, “I don’t know either,” he lets out an awkward laugh and scratches the back of his head, “Well- I guess all we can do is make sure he has a nice stay. He is a guest after all.” You nod along silently before chuckling, “You better make sure it’s a 5 star stay for all the debt you’re in currently.” Which has Urbain hanging his head and groaning, “I knoooow, I’ll make sure everything’s tip top!!” He assures, bouncing back up and giving you two big thumbs up. Lida shivers, “He’s so polite too, it’s almost unnerving…” 

You wave a hand dismissively, “Let’s take it as a good sign and rest up! Who knows when the next Rogue Megas will hit. Gotta be rested and ready.” You urge. The group mumbles their agreement and you all make your way back to your respective rooms, tension lingering in the air. As you pass the front desk you steal a glance at the paper he’d filled out, taking note of Corbeau’s room number, just in case. 

Truth be told you hadn’t originally planned on going to knock on his door. From his anger this morning to his mysterious appearance you weren’t sure you’d be welcome. Your mind was made up for you after sitting in your room for an hour, anxiety building. You were impatient and wanted an answer. The fact that he was in the hotel ate at you endlessly and you find yourself searching for an excuse to go question him. Your eyes fall onto the bandaging on your dresser and you perk up, it’s the best excuse you had. 

Jumping up you grab the bandaging and balm he’d given you, taking a deep breath to steel your resolve. You weren’t going to leave your room just to wimp out at the last second. You slip out of your room as quietly as you can, knowing Urbain’s down the hall, and enter the elevator. You hit the button for the 4th floor and fidget nervously. Hopefully he wasn’t asleep yet, you didn’t want to piss him off even more, but at the same time you could care less if you disturbed his ‘beauty sleep’. 

The elevator opens and your heartbeat picks up, fuck your nerves were going to kill you. Heartbeat deafening in your ears you find your way to his door, breath hitching in your throat as you lift your fist to knock. It hovers there, about an inch from the door for a good minute before you finally screw your eyes shut and knock softly. If he was awake he’d hear it, if he wasn’t he probably wouldn’t. 

You don’t have enough time to properly gather your thoughts as the door swings open just a few seconds after you knock. Corbeau slides the door open and leans against the doorway, golden eyes running over you and face only inches from yours, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asks in a drawl, a smirk dancing across his lips. You feel your face heat up in embarrassment, shyness creeping in at his teasing tone. You felt caught. You find your eyes flicking downward to avoid his stare so you can speak without sounding as pathetic as you felt, “I-I was wondering if you could help me with my bandage.” You admit.

He doesn’t answer right away and it kills you. Was he judging you? Were you bothering him? You finally get fed up enough with the silence to look back up and find his eyes lidded in a soft expression. It looked affectionate, almost like he found you endearing, and god you hoped that’s what he was thinking. The expression alone had you feeling hot, you’d never seen his face so soft before. He swings the door open wider and nods inside, “Come on in kid.” He invites.

You feel your face heat up more at this, this time with indignance, “I’m not a kid.” You grumble as you slip past him and into the room. You take a moment to look around. This room was both more spacious and more luxurious than your own. Though not near as luxurious as Corbeau’s normal standards it was still a nice room. You set the supplies you’re holding down on the bedside table, feeling his eyes burning into your back as you do so. You almost don’t have the courage to turn back around but do anyway, “They really did give you a nice room.” You comment evenly as your eyes meet his.

He’s still leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watches you. You feel like prey under his gaze but you try not to show it. You try to hold his stare but it feels almost unbearable. He’d taken off his jacket and his sleeves were rolled up again. His tie was untied but still hanging around his neck like he was in the middle of taking it off when you’d knocked. He looks around the room and nods, “I can tell you all take care of the building. Urbain’s more detail oriented than I would’ve given him credit for.” This comment has you giggling, “But not detailed enough to read your horrendous interest rates.”

The corner of Corbeau’s mouth curls up in a smirk, “Hey now, business is business, it’s not my fault no one reads the fine print.” He shrugs off the doorframe, “Are all your friends asleep? Or were you looking for an excuse to come and question me.” You shrug, trying to stay nonchalant, “A bit of both.” You look down at your hands, fidgeting with your fingers, “You were so mad earlier, coming to stay the night wasn’t exactly what I thought you’d do.” 

He chuckles deeply, “Mad is an understatement. That kid is lucky he cares for you, and that you showed up when you did.” You feel your body shiver, not wanting to imagine what he’d have done to Urbain. You continue to play with your hands and you hear him walking closer, “Thank you. For- not doing any of that.” You chuckle and shake your head, “Handyman though, seriously?” You try to cut through the tension by making a joke and hear him chuckle airily, “Well, I do fix a lot of things, no?” 

His fingers catch your chin and your breath hitches. He’s much gentler than earlier as he tilts your head up to catch your gaze, “I do hate it when you don’t look at me darling,” your eyes lock with his and you feel like you could collapse on the spot, “Do me a favor and stop looking down.” All you can manage is a weak nod as your eyes flick over his face. He doesn’t let go of your chin and you swallow thickly, “So- why are you here tonight? I know you don’t do things on a whim.” 

His thumb rubs against your chin, tracing your bottom lip, “I’m here to settle unfinished business. That’s all. Nothing you need to worry about.” You find yourself leaning into his touch, “You promise?” He smirks, his sharp canines flashing at you, “I’m a man of my word.” Your eyes flick from his lips back up to his eyes, his touch was going to drive you insane. His thumb traces another line of fire under your lips and you find yourself getting impatient. “Corbeau…” his name falls from your lips breathlessly. “Please.” 

His eyes flash with a deep hunger but he makes no move to grant your plead, “Please what? Use your words.” His command makes you want to stomp your feet, “Please kiss me.” You’re practically begging at this point, “I-I need it.” 

His eyes flare again, “Do you understand what you’re getting yourself into?” You grit your teeth this time, it felt like he was dragging you along like bait and the tension on the line was about to snap, “Don’t ask me stupid questions.” You growl, grabbing the ends of his tie and yanking him towards you so you can finally press your lips together.

You can tell you caught him off guard by the way his own breath hitches. Though it’s barely notable as he regains control of the kiss. He wraps one hand around the front of your neck and snakes his other arm around your waist to tug you flesh against his body. You gasp into his mouth, hands gripping at the front of his shirt for purchase as he pulls you in. His lips are softer than you thought they’d be but his kiss is fierce. You open your mouth for him readily and his tongue starts to snake its way around yours. He tasted like mint with the faintest hint of nicotine. To you it was already addictive. You needed more.

All too soon he pulls back so you can come up for air and you find yourself panting against his chest, “Fuck.” Is all you manage to get out, giggling right after. He rolls his eyes, “Always running that foul mouth.” He chides in a growl, squeezing your neck possessively. You give him a toothy grin, “Ah but you like it, don’t you.” He doesn’t entertain your brattiness, instead he steals a second softer kiss that has you melting. 

He pulls back again and you plop your head against his shoulder, enjoying the closeness of finally having his arms and hands around and on you. The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, his hand on your neck loosening so he can slide it into your hair instead. You close your eyes and let out a content sigh, you wish you could stay like this forever. Everywhere he touches makes your skin feel aflame and you find your teeth worrying at your bottom lip, “I…want more than this.”

He runs his fingers through your hair, “Not tonight, I’m not going to take you until you're fully healed and in my bed.” The statement sends a lightning bolt of excitement through your body, a promise, a man of his word. You reach up to absently trace a finger along his jaw and down his neck, “Deal.” 

Another few minutes pass and you finally lift your head, “We better get me bandaged then. This shit needs to heal faster.” Corbeau doesn’t seem to want to let you go but relents and lets you go enough for you to sit on the edge of the bed, “So willing to run headfirst into danger.” He hums deeply, hooking his fingers under your shirt and stripping it off in one fluid motion, “I’m not gentle kid, I’ll take you how I want when I want it.” 

You know his words are a warning, an invitation to back out if you want to, but they just turn you on more. The feeling of rising excitement is maddening. You choose to roll your eyes, “1. I’m not a kid. 2.” You give him your best smirk, “That sounds right up my alley.” He grunts, gently removing your bandage, “I’m serious.” Once he removes your bandage you cup his face, looking deep into his swirling gold eyes, “So am I. Use me.” 

His eyebrow twitches and his eyes snap shut, brows furrowing into a deep glare as he grits his teeth, “Don’t say that.” This reaction has you cocking an eyebrow, “Say what?” You pause for effect, leaning in close to his ear and smirking, “Use me Corbeau.” 

As fast as a serpent's strike you find your hands pinned above your head and your back pressed into the bed. You let out a gasp of pleasant surprise as Corbeau hovers over you, “Don’t. Say. That.” He snarls, “If you do I won’t be responsible for the damage.” Your chest rises and falls rapidly. Like prey caught in a predator's trap, adrenaline rushes through your veins. Instead of feeling the need to run you want to let him devour you, some survival instinct you have. To make matters worse, you can feel his hard on pressing against your thigh, fuck you didn’t want to wait. 

You give him a needy, absolutely enamoured look, your brain turning to mush and leaving you responsless. He continues to glare down at you, shifting your wrists so they can be pinned under one of his hands, “Now be a good girl and behave, I said not tonight and my self control is thin at best.” You nod submissively, eyes blown with lust and longing, “Yes sir.” As much as you want him your want to obey his commands is stronger right now. One of his fingers brushes against your jaw, tracing up to brush a strand of hair out of your face, “So pliable when you’re pinned.” He murmurs. You see your own lust reflected in his eyes, rimmed with a deep hunger you’re aching to explore. 

He lets you go and pulls away so you can sit back up. You feel dizzy, feelings shot and brain fried but obediently let him examine your side. “It looks more irritated today.” He frowns and you chuckle, “It was the running over to your office and bowing.” You admit. His frown deepens and he tsks but doesn’t say anything else. He diligently applies a new layer of balm and wraps you up. This time he lets his hands linger on your skin, gently kneading your good side and brushing his thumbs against your stomach. You shudder under his touch and you know he can feel it. He knew what he was doing to you and he was enjoying it. 

Your core is hot and you can already feel how soaked your panties are and this wasn’t helping. You lean forward and bonk your forehead on his shoulder, sighing, “You’re an asshole.” He just chuckles, finishing the bandage and letting his hands rest on your hips as you lean into him, “Good things come to those who wait.” Which has you laughing, “God you sound old.” He snorts, rolling his eyes, “I am old.” Which has you snickering even more, “Oh please, you can’t be that old. Not old enough to throw me cheesy lines like that.” This time he huffs indignantly, “Keep insulting me and I’ll make you wait months before getting what you want.” You gasp playfully, leaning back and scrunching your eyebrows at him, “You wouldn’t.” 

He cocks an eyebrow, a smug look on his face, “I would, I can, and I will.” which leaves you side eying him with a harmless glare, “Fine fine, I’ll stop…” you stick your tongue out at him as one last act of defiance and find yourself gasping. He’d shot forward and trapped your tongue in his teeth, biting down just enough to make your eyes water. Helpless whines come from your throat and you grab at the front of his shirt like a lifeline. He doesn’t let you go until he feels satisfied that you’ve learned your lesson.

As you pull your tongue back in your mouth you taste copper, his teeth tipped with blood before he runs his tongue along them, swiping it off, “Behave.” You swallow thickly, you don’t think you can walk or stand at this point with how weak he makes you feel. He sees your dizzy expression and chuckles, “Don’t pass out on me now, I’m not sure how I’d explain carrying your limp body to your friends.” This pulls you back into the present and you laugh at the mental image, “I’d pay to see it.” You admit, running your tongue over your own teeth as you feel the marks he’d left. They stung and it felt so good. 

“I guess I should get to bed,” You relent sadly, not wanting to leave yet but knowing you’re both too tense to sleep in the same room, not to mention how you’d explain that if your friends caught you. He nods, helping you onto your feet, “I guess you should.” He offers you your shirt and you pull it on as he leads you to the door, “Don’t get into any more trouble.” He warns and you give him a stupid grin, “No promises.” 

You press your lips to his one more time, a soft lingering kiss that he reciprocates gladly before opening the door, “Get out of here before I change my mind.” His voice is gravely and you smirk as he shoos you out, “Have a good night Corbeau.” His expression softens, “Good night Onyx.” your name sounds like honey on his tongue and you wish you could savor the sound longer. The whole way back to your room you feel lightheaded, hot, satisfied and unbearably tense at the same time. 

It feels like a fever dream when you get back to your room, replaying each touch, each moment, every threat that’d rolled off his tongue. You were ecstatic. The taste of him lingers on your tongue mixed with copper and you try to commit the feeling and taste to memory. You were far beyond head over heels, he had a chokehold on you and you’d let him do anything he wanted. It was dangerous but that just added to the pleasure. You find yourself needing to change, your panties being a mess of your slick and you consider relieving yourself. Maybe even taking a video and sending it to him but you knew that’d end with the whole hotel hearing the consequences of your actions. In the end you decide to just crawl into bed, head filled with thoughts of Corbeau as you drift to sleep.

Chapter Text

The next morning you diligently change your bandage. The mark has already made great progress and you feel the excitement in your stomach lurch. If it keeps healing at this rate it’ll only take a few more days until it’s fully gone. Even now as you move around it doesn’t hurt anymore which leaves you feeling ready to get back outside. The bite Corbeau left on your tongue still feels raw, a constant reminder of what the two of you shared last night. A reminder of his promise. The thought of him putting you in your place excites you and a familiar bratiness blooms in your chest. You love driving men up walls and seeing what they do and Corbeau’s reactions wouldn’t disappoint you were sure.

Even with those thoughts running through your head you feel a comfortable sense of normalcy as you make your way downstairs. You walk into the lobby and find all three of your friends are already awake, sitting down and enjoying a light breakfast as they chat. It feels relieving to walk into the familiar scene after a week of chaos. 

Urbain perks up when you exit the elevator and waves with his signature big smile, “Morning!! How’d you sleep?” You stretch as you walk over and return the smile, “You know? Not too bad! A lot better without the stress of you being off grid.” You tease, taking a seat and grabbing a pastry to nibble on. Urbain groans, face falling into his hands, “I get it! I’m sorrrrrrryyy.” He complains, deflating at the immediate jab. 

A small laugh escapes your lips, “I know, I’m just fucking with you.” You nod at the general group, “How about you guys? Well rested?” Lida nods enthusiastically, “I mean it took me a second knowing um-“ her eyes dart around and she leans in to whisper, “He’s here, but otherwise good!” Naveen also nods, “Slept the same as always, no complaints.” 

The four of you fall into comfortable chatter as you finish breakfast, Urbain being just as fired up as usual about the Rogue Megas and waiting for Vinnie's next report. AZ listens quietly in his corner behind the desk, just observing as usual. It’s not until you hear the elevator again that you all quiet down, attention being drawn to the expectant entrance of Corbeau. 

Corbeau walks out of the elevator looking as immaculate as usual. He runs a hand through his hair and nods at AZ, barely pausing before reaching into his jacket and pulling out his hotel payment, “Here’s what I owe for my stay. It was lovely. I can tell this building is well cared for.” AZ nods and accepts the payment, motioning at Urbain, “It’s all thanks to that young man.” Corbeau tilts his head to look over at the group, a small smile on his face as he walks over. You feel your own heart skip as he approaches but Corbeau stops in front of Urbain, “And for that I have a tip for you, good work.” He reaches into his jacket again and hands Urbain a stack of what looks like insanely large bills, leaving you all blinking in shock.

Your own eyes widen, it all made sense now, Corbeau had been looking for an excuse to give Urbain the means to close out his loan. Urbain’s eyes go twice as wide as yours and he starts sputtering, shaking his head insistently and trying to give it back to Corbeau but Corbeau just steps back and holds up a hand, “I’m a good tipper. I’d be offended if you didn’t take it.” At this Urbain’s jaw snaps shut and he bows as deeply as he can while sitting, “T-thank you sir!” 

Corbeau waves a hand and straightens his tie, “No need for thanks.” He checks the hotel clock and hums, “It’s time for me to get back, it’s been a pleasure. I trust we will all keep doing what we need to do for Lumiose.” Without waiting for an answer he walks out the door, leaving the four of you in stunned silence. You feel a sense of disappointment at his fast departure but you redirect your attention back to the present. Urbain is still sitting in shock, staring down at his hands, “W-why?” Is all he manages to get out. Lida waves her hands in the air, “Don’t question it! This is great! None of us have to work for the Rust Syndicate anymore!” She’s all but squealing with excitement. Naveen scratches his chin, “Maybe you pissed him off so bad he decided he doesn’t want to work with you anymore.” He offers since Urbain is searching for a reason.

You bark a laugh, “Imagine. Urbain’s just THAT annoying.” You joke which causes Urbain’s face to heat up, “I’m not that annoying!” He complains. Before you can poke anymore fun at him the hotel doors swing back open and the large foreboding stature of Philippe enters the hotel. He glares down at Urbain without sparing the rest of your group a glance, “I’m here about your loan. As I’m sure you’re aware it is far overdue, we’d like it to be repaid as soon as possible. Preferably now.” Urbain shrinks under Philippe’s stare and holds out the money he was just given, hands shaking, “H-here it is in full!!” 

Philippe takes it from Urbain with a nod, “Smart choice. Pleasure doing business with you.” He nods at the larger group before taking his leave, any lingering tension lifting from the room. Lida jumps up and cheers, “We’re free!!!” She starts to dance around, grabbing Urbain and dragging him out of his seat to jump around with her and loosen him up. You smile as you watch them, chuckling, “Okay so NO more sketchy loans yeah?”

Urbain laughs, “No more sketchy loans!!” He agrees vehemently, a bright smile on his face, “Ugh this is such a relief!” AZ watches you all in his own softly amused expression and even Naveen cracks a smile. Before you all can get much farther into the celebration of Urbain’s newfound freedom his rotom rings, flying out of his back pocket. Urbain perks up, answering it with a big smile, “Vinnie! Got new reports for us?” The four of you listen intently as Vinnie provides the details on three new Rogue Megas, a Mawile, Barbaracle, and Ampharos. 

After hanging up with Vinnie Lida announces the need for a strategy meeting and before long you’ve all divvied up the work like usual, with you going to each location to fill in the gaps. 

“Are you sure you can handle getting back to fighting the Rouge Megas? You can rest more if you need to. We can handle it.” Lida insists but you shake your head, “I’m starting to get cabin fever, I’d rather get out and about. Plus I’m almost all healed up, all that’s left is a mark.” You assure.

It takes a few more minutes of convincing but the four of you wrap up your team meeting and you decide to get right back to work. Starting with the Mawile you and Charizard work together with the same ferocious heat as usual. Even after days on break you find yourself working flawlessly. A deep sense of satisfaction washes over you. This is what you’ve grown to love about being a pokemon trainer. Being able to battle alongside your pokemon and win with effortless excellence.

After the successful victory you decide to spend some extra quality time with Charizard and head to a cafe. He’d been mostly stuck in his pokeball this whole time. Your whole team has and you make a mental note to spend more relaxing time with them later. You end up ordering some tea and relax while giving Charizard a good head scratch, humming, “Always so feisty, I could tell you’d been dying to get out. I think everyone’s a bit pent up at this point.” Charizard grumbles deeply, bunting his head against your shoulder to the point he almost knocks you out of the chair. You laugh brightly, “I know I know! Don’t worry, I don’t plan on any more bed rest any time soon.” You continue to chuckle, doubling your efforts of scratching his head and jaw to reach all his sweet spots. 

“What are you doing out and about?” A familiarly smooth voice asks. You almost give yourself whip lash with how fast your head snaps to meet the golden eyes from across the table. You find yourself speechless for a moment, mesmerized as Corbeau sits down across from you. It takes you a second to remember he even asked you a question in your shock, “We got more Rogue Mega reports, went out to help like usual,” you share. He frowns, taking a moment to order some tea and release his Arbok, “Aren’t you supposed to still be on bed rest?” His voice has a chiding edge to it but you wave a hand dismissively, “I’m fine! All that’s left is for the mark to disappear, I don’t even feel it anymore.” You continue to scratch your Charizard’s chin contently as you admire Corbeau’s Arbok for the first time, “Aren’t you a beautiful lad!” You coo, reaching out your hand. 

Arbok’s tongue flicks in and out of its mouth to move over your hand before it sets its chin in your palm, letting you scratch it just like you were doing a moment before to your own pokemon, “Such a good boy~” you praise, smiling happily. Your eyes flick back over to Corbeau and you find the most flustered expression you’ve seen on his face yet. You cock an eyebrow and he quickly clears his throat and readjusts his tie to gather himself, “He’s not usually so friendly.” He admits. You hum, “Well neither is his trainer but I make it work.” 

He scoffs, glaring, “I’m not friendly at all.” You smirk, moving your hand up to rub the top of Arbok’s head, “You buy me clothes, treat me at bedside, and just happen to pay Urbain enough money to pay back the loan he owes you. Not to mention every job you sent me on was to help the city. You’re a kind man Corbeau.” His shakes his head, “Don’t flatter me darling, kind people don’t end up in my line of work.” The waiter arrives with Corbeau’s tea and you notice how nervous he looks as he sets it down, bowing deeply and rushing away. “If you say so.” You decide you won’t argue the subject, “Why did you pay off your own loan though? I thought you liked having team MZ at your beck and call.” 

He takes a sip of his tea, one leg crossed over the other as he leans back, “I didn’t do it for him.” He doesn’t seem inclined to elaborate and you chuckle, “Did you do it for yourself? Just cause he pissed you off that bad?.” You ask teasingly. His eyebrow twitches, amusement entering his eyes, “As much as I would’ve wanted too no. I did it for you. Now stop asking me questions.” You completely disregard his last comment, smiling and propping your chin on your hand, “You didn’t like me in your office everyday? Doing whatever you asked?” 

You see his jaw feather as he clenches his teeth, his eyes narrowing into a cold glare, “Contract or not you would run to my office and kneel like a dog if I asked.” His words shoot to your core. Your eyes widening and face heating up at his bluntness. The worst part is he is right. You would. 

He seems satisfied by your reaction, sipping his tea again, “I don’t want to put you in more danger than you already put yourself in. I also want you to be able to choose if you run towards me or run away.” He elaborates. It was your turn to frown, “I’m not running away.”

“You might want to later.”

“I won’t.” You snap back, surprising the both of you with your aggressiveness. You flush and look away, “Sorry.” His eyes flick over your face, “Don’t be.” 

He sets his teacup down and lets out a sigh through his nose, tapping his fingers on the table. You can tell he’s thinking of what to say. What he’s contemplating you don’t know but you wish he’d just tell you, “Do you want this?” You blurt out the question without thinking. You could feel some sort of apprehension every time you interact and you are starting to feel like maybe he has doubts. Or maybe he doesn’t have as strong of  feelings as you did.

His eyes snap up to yours. He blinks, almost like he’s confused by the question, “Yes.” His brows furrow, “Why wouldn’t I?” You feel yourself flush an even deeper red and you scratch the back of your head, doing your best to hold eye contact because that’s what he likes, “You just seem to- I don’t know- have doubts? You seem apprehensive." You try and explain, stuttering all the while. His glare deepens, eyes flashing with an unreadable emotion. He leans forward and grabs your chin, steadying your nervous fidgeting, “Obviously I haven’t done this right.” He leans across the table so his mouth is brushing your ear, his grip on your chin tightening, “I want you. All of you. Anywhere, anytime, always. I crave it. Everyday you’re not mine I get more impatient. Everyday I have to control myself my patience gets thinner. I hesitate only for your sake. To give you a chance to run before it’s too late.” 

You can barely hear him by the end of it. Your pulse in your ears and your heart pounding so hard in your chest you’re worried you might have a heart attack. He pulls back, eyes locking with yours, “Do you understand?” You swallow thickly, your brain successfully being rendered into a pile of mush, “Y-yes.” You choke out, your whole body feeling like it’s on fire between his words, touch, and stare. 

He holds your gaze a moment longer before letting you go and leaning back. You promptly set your head on the table, refusing to look up as you try and recover from the sudden ‘confession’ from him. His words ring in your ears over and over again. He’s so intense and all you want to do is completely give yourself into him. Into what he’ll do, whatever he wants. To have someone like him crave you so deeply left you limp. 

It takes you a good minute before you lift your head back up, brushing your hair out of your still red face. He just watches you lazily, back to drinking his tea as you regather your bearings and pride. Charizard and Arbok are busy socializing as you try and think of what to say. “Do I scare you?” He asks, tone blunt in a way that tells you he thinks he overdid it. You shake your head aggressively, “Oh heavens no. You don’t scare me at all.” You pick your own tea up, hoping to calm your frayed nerves, “I’m-“ you take a deep breath and tilt your head back and forth, trying to think of how to say it, “Well. Maybe you should but,” A small smirk makes its way back to your face, “I wish you wouldn’t hold back. I want you to lose your patience.” 

Corbeau is the first one to look away this time, his eyes closing and brows scrunching together. You see a vein in his forehead start to pop and his jaw feathers as he clenches it. You start to wonder what nerve you hit and if you might be able to hit it again. Seeing him try and control himself in public left you feeling a sense of exhilaration and satisfaction. How far could you push him until he snaps?

You don't get to test the theory as he pushes his glasses up his nose and exhales, eyes still closed, “Are you free this evening?” You feel your stomach lurch with anxious excitement at the question, “I am.” He turns back towards you, eyes opening into golden slits, “Will you come to dinner with me?” 

A sweet smile finds its way onto your face this time, “I’d love to go to dinner with you Corbeau.” He nods, eyes flicking over your face, “There’s something waiting in your room for you. I’d like you to wear it tonight. I’ll pick you up at 6.” You can’t help but scoff, “What did I say about having people break into my room?” He just smiles, “Even if you do booby trap it like you claim I’ll be able to get around it, plus, you’ll like the gift.” 

You giggle, “I’m sure I will, you have great taste,” you finish your tea and scratch Charizard's head again, “You’re always watching me aren’t you.” It’s more of a statement than a question. 

“Does that bother you?”  

You shake your head, “No, I feel safer knowing someone like you has his eyes on me.” You flash him a side eye, “You don’t have a camera in my room do you?” He develops an incredulous look, “Absolutely not, what do you take me for?” 

“A pervert?” You offer, giggling at his growing offense. “I have treated you with nothing but respect and you call me a pervert?” His tone has as much disbelief as his face does. “Oh please, I’ve caught you staring at my tits at LEAST three times. And yet you still got the measurement wrong.” You decide to poke more fun at him and are rewarded by a sputter, “I have not! And watch your damn mouth.” You snicker, a sly smirk popping onto your face, “Suuuuuuure ya haven’t.” 

He crosses his arms and starts to glare at you, “Now you’re just trying to get under my skin.” 

“Of course I am. Is it working?”

“I liked you better when you were trembling and staring at my feet.” 

You laugh brightly, shaking your head and pressing your lips together to avoid saying the next impulsive thing that wants to come out of your mouth. “What’s with that look? Spit it out.” He demands with a huff. You cover your mouth and then your eyes, trying to hide from him playfully, “You told me to watch my mouth.” 

“Well now I’m telling you to spit it out.”

You start giggling again, peaking out at him through your fingers, “I can do better than stare at your feet. I think it’s much better if I stare up at your face don’t ya think?”” The innuendo is obvious and Corbeau’s cheeks dust a light pink at your forwardness, “You’re insufferable.” He decides which just makes you smile more, “You asked.” 

He sighs again, standing up and recalling Arbok into his Pokeball, “I have work to finish before dinner. I’m going to finish that before you say something else that encourages me to make bad decisions.” You can’t help but pout, having been enjoying your back and forth, “Alright, I’ll be waiting for you at 6.” Seeing your disappointment he steps towards you and takes your hand, bringing it up to his lips to brush his teeth against your knuckles. The contact makes your shiver and he presses a kiss to them next, “It’ll be worth the wait, I promise.” He assures. You smile up at him sweetly, “Nothing about you disappoints Corbeau, I’ll see you soon.” 

He nods and lets go of your hand, rubbing Charizard's head as he turns away, “Take care of her.” Charizard huffs out a puff of smoke, an understanding seeming to pass between them as Corbeay takes his leave.

You’re left with your heart skipping. Dinner with Corbeau of the Rust Syndicate. What has your life turned into? Not that you are complaining. With how he talks and carries himself you already know he must be intense in the bedroom and you were dying to get a taste of it. Even if it wasn’t tonight you still feel building excitement at seeing what is waiting for you in your room and just spending more time with him in general. 

You get up and return Charizard into his pokeball. You still want to try and help one of the other Rogue Megas before you go home to shower and see what Corbeau picked out. You wonder just how Corbeau keeps track of you but choose not to think too deeply about it. You feel thankful for the protection no matter how it works.

Chapter Text

You and Meganium work together to help the Barbaracle calm down and you find yourself returning home in good time, giving you a few hours to get ready and wait for Corbeau. As you enter the hotel you find AZ at the front desk like usual. The old man smiles as you enter, “Busy like usual aren’t you. How is the team doing? And yourself?” You give him a soft smile as you walk in, this being one of the first times you’ve talked to him alone in a while, “Good! Just Ampharos is left. The team is doing great and I’m all healed up.” 

AZ nods approvingly, “That’s good to hear.” He nods towards the elevator, “More gifts arrived for you.” Your face immediately heats up, “Oh! Did- have you been putting them in my room?” He nods again, “I have,” an amused smile pops onto his face, “A little birdy told me you’ve been threatening to booby trap it. For both our sakes I hope you don’t.” 

Your face heats up even more, “Well I won’t now that I know it’s you!!” You end up staring at your feet, “Do the others know?” He shakes his head, “About you and Corbeau? No. It’s not my place to tell them and as far as I know they haven’t caught on.” You nod, still staring at your feet. You don’t feel ashamed of your growing relationship with the boss of the Rust Syndicate but a part of you felt guilty for not telling your friends. “No need to rush anything. Or feel guilty for keeping to yourself. It is personal after all.” AZ assures after seeing your reaction. You worry your bottom lip and look back up, “Do- do you think it’s a bad choice? He put Urbain in a tight spot after all.” 

AZ chuckles, “He taught Urbain a valuable lesson. I had no doubt it’d work out in the end. He’s known to be a reasonable man after all.” He offers you a reassuring smile, “As for my opinion, bad and good choices are based on individual views. In the end what matters is if you’re happy or not.” You feel a sense of comfort wash over you at his words and you nod more confidently, “Thank you AZ. I do appreciate you bringing the packages up for me.” He smiles more, “Anytime. It’s always nice knowing you kids are getting along with life.” He motions towards the elevator again and turns around, “I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy your night.” You wave happily, “See you!” Before slipping into the elevator.

You open the door to your room and immediately focus on your bed. As you walk in your breath hitches. Laying on the bed is a large box and beside it lays a bouquet of flowers wrapped in a lacy mesh black covering. The main flowers are black with a white center, framed by some sort of long delicate magenta petaled flower. You see a note beside the flowers and pick it up first.

Hellabore and gloriosa lily, as deadly as they are beautiful. Just like you. 

You burn a deep red as you read his words. Deadly? You’d never considered yourself as such but felt flattered at the comparison. You gently pick up the bouquet, being mindful not to only touch the wrapping, “They’re so fucking pretty.” You murmur to yourself. As you turn to put them on your desk you find a sleek vase waiting for you. You gasp. It’s a gorgeous onyx vase with delicate white banding running through it. Polished to perfection, “He thinks of everything, doesn't he.” You laugh and set the flowers inside, admiring the finished look, “Only Corbeau would send someone poisonous flowers.” You add into the air with a shake of your head before turning to open the box on the bed. 

You reach in and pull out a sleeveless turtleneck bodycon dress. It’s black like everything else he gets you, he knows what you like, and all things considered is a relatively casual looking dress while still managing to be higher quality than anything else you own. You gasp when you notice the most revealing part of the dress, a heart shaped boob window, “Pervert!” You exclaim all in good fun, laughing and looking down to find a long pair of fingerless arm covers and a pair of heeled dress boots with silver heart clasps on the sides to go with it. Your eyes widen, beside the boots are a lace lingerie set he’d picked out as well, he really was dressing you up.

You find yourself unable to stop smiling as you slip into the bathroom to shower. After thoroughly drying off you determine you can go without a wrapping on your mark tonight and slip on the lingerie. A low whistle comes out of your mouth as you examine yourself in the mirror, “God damn.” You slip the dress on as well and just get giddier as the heart window perfectly dips down your cleavage. The fabric clings to your thighs and you spin around to look down at your ass. It’s just long enough not to show anything but it’d ride up if you weren’t careful. That’s probably what he wanted anyway. 

You decide to just leave your hair down for the night but shuffle through your lipstick to find a nice red plum coloring. It’d add a pop of color you know he likes, you want him staring at you all night after all. You pair it with a simple smokey eyeshadow and mascara, grinning at yourself when you finish. You finish the look by pulling on the arm covers and the boots. You wonder if Corbeau thought about how they make you taller than him. Maybe he likes it, or maybe he was just catering to your tastes. Either way the outfit looks adorable and not too flashy. 

A moment later you get a text message and you check it expectantly.

-Do you like the flowers?-

You smile, glancing back over at them as you type back, -They’re lovely, they remind me of you just as much as they remind you of me- and it was true. Though you’d probably use the word handsome in place of beautiful to describe Corbeau. 

He types for a few moments, stops, and types again. This makes you smirk, you’d caught him off guard again. -Is everything else up to expectation?-

-Beyond it. Everything fits perfectly- you assure, -Spoiling me again-

-You deserve it.- 

You groan, he was going to kill you. Part of you felt like denying the claim, what had you done to deserve such treatment from him? You purse your lips but decide to just take his words at face value and not argue with it. You check the time and feel a rush of excitement mixed with anxiety, 15 minutes until he arrives.

You spend the next 10 minutes double checking yourself in the mirror, making sure nothing has smudged and everything is in place. You finally force yourself to take a deep breath and head downstairs. The lobby is thankfully empty, you don’t feel like explaining yourself tonight, just wanting to focus on enjoying your time with Corbeau. 

You walk outside into the evening air. A chill goes up your spin but you find yourself sighing in relief at how the cold air calms your nerves. Before long Corbeau’s car is pulling up in front of the hotel. He steps out and you rake your eyes over him. He’s still in his signature purple button down but his normal jacket has been replaced by a well tailored suit jacket. Even as you admire how handsome he is nothing compares to how his gaze burns into you as you walk towards him. 

His eyes roam slowly, starting at your feet and working their way up. It’s obvious how his eyes linger on your chest, he doesn’t hide it this time, but once he sees your lips you notice his eyes darken with hunger, “You look stunning,” he purrs, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles. You flush, “It’s thanks to your taste in clothing.” He shakes his head, “Hardly, the clothes are merely accessories to the true beauty.” This time you feel your face burn and you scoff to try and hide your shyness, “I- hm.” You stutter and immediately press your lips together, embarrassed by how easy it is for him to silence you. His eyes glint and a smirk creeps onto his face, “Good. You’ll learn to take my compliments in stride.” He states before turning to open the car door for you. 

You slip into the car, still blushing, “I don’t know, I might never get used to them.” He shakes his head, “You will.” Before shutting your door. He gets in on the other side a moment later, motioning at the driver to start driving before shutting the privacy blind. You feel your heart skip a few beats at being so close to him again and you find yourself craving both his attention and his touch, “Where all are we going tonight?” He smiles, “It’s a secret, you can just sit back and enjoy the evening.” His hand makes its way to your thigh, brushing against the skin just below the edge of your dress. Your nerves spark and your skin burns where he touches you, every movement of his fingers tracing your skin sending jolts of excitement through you. 

You’re not used to being this sensitive but something about him heightens every sense you have. Your hand finds its way on top of his and you intertwine your fingers together. Your heart pounds as he obliges, squeezing your fingers lightly. It felt stupid to feel lightheaded over holding hands with someone. To feel so nervous and so giddy just at a brush of his hand. You find yourself holding your breath, maybe in anxiety, maybe in anticipation. Corbeau’s laugh brings you back into the present and you find yourself looking at a soft smile, “Darling please remember to breathe. I don’t need you passed out in my car a second time.” His tone has an obvious tease to it, the most playful you’ve heard him yet and it makes your cheeks burn as you sputter, “I’m not about to pass out!! I’m breathing!!” 

He just smiles more at your insistence, “If you say so sweetheart~” he drawls, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “That’s a lovely shade of lipstick you’ve chosen,” he adds as he admires your face. You find yourself leaning into his touch, “I thought you’d like it, though I wish it was a tad more vibrant.” He shakes his head, pointer finger and thumb catching your chin to hold you in place as he examines you, “It’s perfect.” His eyes flick up to meet yours and you realize you really could get lost in them if you stare long enough. A deep swirling gold that holds you in place with a ferocity you’ve never seen in anyone else. You swallow thickly, “I’ll be sure to wear it more then.” 

He nods, thumb rubbing your chin, careful not to smudge your makeup as he does so. He lets go of your chin after a moment and nods out the window, “We’re not going far tonight, I want you to be able to relax.” You start to idly play with his fingers as he talks, chuckling, “I don’t really need more relaxation after being bedridden for days.” He cocks an eyebrow, “Well then consider it my relaxation time that you’re now a part of.” A small laugh escapes your lips and you tilt your head back and forth, a smile dancing on your lips, “I can work with that.” 

Before long the car pulls to a stop and Corbeau throws you a look that obviously means, ‘Don’t move’ as he gets out and closes the door. A moment later he’s opening yours and offers you his hand, “Welcome to Sushi High Roller.” You take his hand and slip out of the car, admiring the establishment in front of you, “High roller huh,” you were sure the inside would reflect the name even more than the outside. A smirk flashes across Corbeau’s face, “You already know nothing I do is cheap, I'm a regular here so I know you’ll enjoy it.” His hand rests on the small of your back, slipping down your ass to lightly tug down the hem of your dress. 

What can only be described as a squeak escapes your lips and you flush red in embarrassment. Corbeau’s smirk just widens and he gives your ass a pat before returning his hand to the small of your back to lead you towards the front doors, “Cute.” Is his only comment which doesn’t help you in your attempt to collect yourself for being in a fancy restaurant. 

When the two of you walk in the attendant at the front desk straightens as if struck by lightning, eyes wide, “Right this way Corbeau sir.” He sputters, bowing deeply and ushering the two of you to a private table near the back of the restaurant. It’s obvious Corbeau doesn't even need to lift a finger for excellent service or respect and you start to wonder if the whole city treats him like such. The inside of the restaurant is gorgeous but what catches your eyes most is the giant pokemon battle ring in the center where two people are currently battling. 

Corbeau continues to lead you by the small of your back, pulling your chair out for you and placing a kiss on your temple as you sit down. Between his touch, the treatment, and the kiss you aren’t sure you'll be given a chance to recover yourself. You’d never been treated so lavishly, nor had such a gentleman as a date. Corbeau sits down and waves a hand at the waiter, “The chef already knows what we’ll have, just tell him I’m here. As for drinks,” he glances at you in brief thought before returning his attention to the attendant, “Just green tea tonight is fine.” 

The waiter gives another deep bow and rushes off, leaving the two of you to chat while you wait for food and drink, “What was that look for? Trying to decide if you should give me alcohol or not?” You ask playfully, setting your elbow on the table so you can lean forward and rest your cheek in your hand, knowing this also gives Corbeau an excellent view of your cleavage. If he was going to make you a flustered mess you might as well try and get a reaction out of him back. 

His eyes flick down to your chest as expected before he brings them back up to your face, "Actually yes, I want you fully lucid for me tonight. Can’t have you forgetting what I do to you later.” Your jaw drops briefly but you hurriedly close it, glancing around and hissing, “Corbeau” he leans back, crossing his legs and cocking an eyebrow, “What?” You shoot him a side eyed glare, “You know what. We’re in public and you’re being insufferable.” He laughs, giving you a downright evil grin, “I could care less that we’re in public. In fact a part of me wants to stand on this table and announce to the whole restaurant that I get to fuck you tonight.” 

Your eyes widen in horror, “Don’t you dare. You wouldn’t.” He leans forward and intertwines his fingers so he can set his chin on them as he enjoys watching your panic, eyes sparking with amusement, “Want to test that theory?” You shake your head vehemently, “No! I really don’t!” He tilts his head, “Maybe another time.” And you scoff in disbelief. Before you can think of a reply the waiter returns with your tea, setting it down, bowing, and leaving. 

You watch them scurry away and chuckle, “They act like you’re going to shoot them where they stand if they do something wrong.” You comment as you pick the tea up and sip on it. He shrugs, “I tend to have that effect on people considering my reputation.” 

“Tell me more about that.” You request as you look over and watch a new battle starting. “Are you sure you want to hear about everything I do?” You roll your eyes, unable to hide your sass, “Corbeau I’m not gonna ask again. Entertain me. I’m not a butterfly, I won’t shatter by hearing about what you do.” A surprised but pleased expression pops onto his face and he nods, joining you in watching the battles bellow.

“It didn’t start with the Syndicate. I was actually an outsider to this city, much like you. I had nothing and nowhere to go so I started to pick up whatever odd jobs I could while also creating my own business ventures. I smuggled drugs, pokemon products, helped ‘solve’ other peoples issues, and started to learn about the city more.” He develops a thoughtful look, “I had more than one brush with the Rust Syndicate as I got my bearings. With this I had a growing interest in the medicinal properties of pokemon products and poisons in general but not the means to truly test my theories. So I had the great idea of starting a loan service so I could invest in that but also grow my wealth in general. Though I didn’t have a large enough reputation for that to work either.”

He sips his tea as the two of you watch a Riachu and Garadoys fight, “So I decided if I could walk in and take control of the Rust Syndicate I’d have both the reputation and means I needed to do what I wanted. In short, now I’m here.” You listen intently, nodding along, “And now you sell both medicine and drugs?” You inquire. “I only sell drugs to the filthy rich around here, but yes I still sell drugs. Poisons. Medicines. Antidotes. Remedies. If I ever make something that can be sold on the larger market I give the city the means to do so. But most of what I sell has pokemon products considered unethical for mass production or are illegal to use in general. Often unfortunate as many have life saving properties.” 

He sighs deeply, “I do my best for both the pokemon and the city, but it’s a balance that’s not easily kept.” He admits. You reach across the table to squeeze his hand, “I think you do well with what you have.” He watches your hand touch his with a soft expression, “Not a single survival instinct in you is there kid.” You scoff, “Uh yeah, I do, you’re just not a danger to me. You’re harmless.” You stick your tongue out at him to egg him on, “I wasn’t lying when I said you’re a kind man, you have strong morals and stick to them. Even if it includes illegal activities.” 

Without warning he lifts your hand up to his lips so he can bite down on the flesh between your pointer finger and thumb. It’s not hard but you still find your breath hitching at the display. He holds your gaze with lidded eyes, nibbling on the skin as your face heats up, “C- what’s that for?” You stutter, flustered even more by his expression. He lets go of your hand, “Do you not like it?” You shake your head, “It’s not that I just-“ you glare at him, “You know what you’re doing.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He plays, expression neutral. Before you can argue more on the subject the waiter walks over with a tray filled with food. A plate is set in front of each of you with side dishes set between you to share. His plate is filled with a delicate array of nigiri with your plate having both nigiri and sushi rolls, each piece being unique. 

You perk up when it’s set in front of you, nodding and thanking the waiter as they bow and rush away. “I wasn’t sure what your preferences are so I had them make you a tasting platter, let me know which are your favorites for next time.” Corbeau comments as he picks up his chopsticks. You nod, “Thank you. Each piece looks like its own little art piece. Almost too pretty to eat.” You comment in awe. Corbeau smiles, “The chef here is immaculate.” He agrees, diligently dipping a piece of his sushi into the soy sauce provided and popping it in his mouth.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence, watching the pokemon battles, admiring each other, enjoying the food. He’s the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him, face soft, eyes softer. It felt casual. He was starting to feel less and less like a boss and more like just another pokemon trainer, a friend. You make a few comments on the pieces you like most and you see him mentally file them away for later, listening to you intently whenever you talk. By the time the two of you are done your nerves feel soothed, ready to enjoy the rest of the evening doing whatever Corbeau has planned or wished.

“This was an absolutely amazing experience, thank you for bringing me.” You thank him genuinely as he pays the waiter and stands, “Anything for you darling.” He replies as he offers you his arm. You cock an eyebrow, taking his arm and standing up, “Anything?” Corbeau eyes you in amusement, “Anything.” He confirms with a conviction that tells you he really would get you anything you ask for or take you anywhere you want to go. “Then I want you.” 

It’s a simple statement but one that lights a fire behind his eyes, “Then me you’ll get.” He agrees, leading you out of the building and to the waiting car. He opens your door as usual, admiring your body as you get inside. You only give him enough time to get in, signal the driver and close the privacy flap before you grab his face, pulling him close and kissing him passionately. He grunts at the suddenness of having you clinging to him but quickly reciprocates by gripping your thigh and yanking it over his lap, his other arm hugging your torso to press your body into his. Your dress rides up in the compromising position and you know your ass and panties are in full view but there was no reason for you to care. 

Your lips part readily for him and his tongue starts to explore your mouth, running over your tongue and teeth in a hungry manner. His grip on you feels bruising, desperate, like he thinks you’ll disappear if he lets go. You find yourself tangling your hands in his hair, his buzzcut is unbelievably soft and his hair is thick and easy to grab onto. You press your chest into his, feeling the need to be as close as you can to him, to feel his body. When the two of you finally separate for air you’re both panting. His eyes are blown wide and his face is flushed, you’re sure you look much the same. 

Your eyes flick to his lips and you start to giggle, your lipstick staining his lips from the ferocity of your kiss. He blinks, eyes refocusing as he cocks an eyebrow, “What are you giggling at? You sound like a little monster.” You let out a bright laugh, “Just- wondering how bad my lips look if my lipstick is smeared against yours.” He starts to chuckle, shaking his head as he playfully leans back and makes a show of examining you, “Well, it doesn’t look bad, messy yes, but I like it.” He smirks as he talks, finally letting go of your thigh so he can reach up and swipe his thumb against your lips, examining the stain and then swiping it onto his tie. The motion is hotter than you’d ever admit. He was always so clean yet here he is smearing his clothes with your lipstick. It feels possessive and you love it.

The car comes to a stop and Corbeau reluctantly lets you go, helping you straighten out just enough to get into the building without too much embarrassment. He steals another kiss before getting out of the car, not bothering to wipe your lipstick off his lips. In the brief moment you’re alone you realize just how fast your heart is beating, head spinning and core burning. It almost didn’t feel real. Corbeau opens your door and offers his hand, “Just a little farther,” His smooth voice soothes your nerves and you take his hand, happily following him, “I don’t know I might not make it.” You joke playfully. 

He chuckles, “I’ll carry you if I need to. You’ll end up in my bed tonight one way or another.” His words send a shiver through you. They should feel threatening, and from any other guy they would feel that way, but from him they feel playful, a promise instead of a suggestion. The two of you get to the elevator and he ushers you inside. Once the doors close he grabs your waist and yanks you against him. The speed and the force of the motion has your breath catching as you end up inches from his face. He delicately tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers caressing your cheek, “If I need to slow down at any time tonight will you tell me?” 

You find the question a little surprising due to his wording but you nod, “I will. I don’t think I’ll need to, but I will if I do.” He nods and that seems to be the only confirmation he needs before he slips his hand into your hair and yanks your head sharply to the side. You gasp, it quickly turning into a moan as his fingers pull your turtle neck aside and you feel his teeth sink into your exposed skin. He bites down sharply, the pain mixed with pleasure causing you to see white. You grasp at the front of his suit for purchase but make no moves to stop him as you whimper. 

After a few moments he loosens his bite and starts to lick at the mark, soothing the pain and sending pleasant tingles down your shoulder and up your neck. He licks and nibbles at your skin until the elevator door opens, wasting no time in dragging you out of it and towards his bedroom. His demeanor gets more frantic by the second and he all but shoves you into his room, slamming the door behind him. “Undress for me.” He commands as he takes his suit jacket off and tosses it, yanking his tie off just as fast before his fingers start swiftly working on his shirt buttons. You do as he asks, slipping off your arm covers and making quick work of your shoes before pulling the dress off over your head. As you undress his eyes lock onto your body, his movements to take his own clothes off stopping as he watches you with a predatory gaze. 

You finish pulling the dress off and shake out your hair, feeling oddly exposed as his eyes devour how you look in the lingerie he bought you. To your surprise his expression softens from the burning need you’ve been seeing and he closes the gap between the two of you to cup your face and kiss you softly, “You look absolutely stunning.” He murmurs. 

You blush, melting into his chest, “Thank you,” Your hands travel up to start working on his half unbuttoned shirt as the two of you kiss and a deep rumble of approval comes from his chest, his fierce demeanor quickly returning when he feels your hands on him. You finish unbuttoning it and lean back to slip it off his shoulders, gasping as his upper body is fully exposed to you. His arms are covered in full sleeves that stretch up his shoulders and onto his chest. As you eyes wander over them you see some color on his sides that hint at a full back tattoo as well, “Holy fuck.” Is all you’re able to breathe out as your hands wander over the ink, tracing the patterns and admiring the Scolipede and Gyarados imagery. 

He openly lets you gawk at them, watching your reactions intently as you explore the designs, “Seems like you like them.” You nod furiously, “I absolutely love them, I feel like I could stare at them for hours.” Your eyes flick back up to his face and you blush, “They’re gorgeous Corbeau.” He nods, “They are, I can tell you all about them later.” You perk up at this, grinning widely, “I’d love that.” His lips meet your neck again and he starts leaving sloppy open mouth kisses on your skin, “Consider it done.” 

You run your hands across his chest, enjoying the feeling of finally being able to touch his skin. It’s  soft and warm and you want more of it, more of him. You find yourself gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer as he devours your neck. His hands slide down your sides, starting to tracing the delicate lace clinging to your skin in an almost tantalizing slowness. You whine, “Corbeau.” You breathe his name as a plea, he was driving you insane. He smirks into your neck, “Yes?” 

You groan, burying your face into his skin as your hands frantically claw at his skin to try and pull him closer, “Please.” He braces his hands against your sides, keeping you just far enough to press your buttons, “Please what.” 

You pull back from his neck and glare at him, a pout to your lips, “God damnit please fuck me!!” You bark. The heat between your legs is unbearable and the lack of his touch is even worse. His gaze darkens and his smirk turns devilish with satisfaction at your outburst, “As you wish.” 

His grip on your waist tightens and he shoves you backward onto the bed. You gasp as your back hits the sheets but immediately smile when his body presses on top of you. His hands slide up your stomach to your chest, groping each of your tits as he leans down and goes back to kissing at your neck. Each touch fuels the fire in your core and sends shivers of pleasure through you as you let him have his way with you. His kisses trail down your neck and collarbones before he gets to the swell of your chest. His eyes flick back up to yours and he slides his hands behind you to unclasp the bra, pulling it off of you and tossing it aside to fully expose your chest to him.

You bite your lip as the air hits your chest, a whine escaping your throat as his hands grope your breasts roughly. He pinches your nipples between his fingers, capturing your lips with a hum of pleasure. Your back arches at the stimulation, small moans escaping into his mouth as you press your chest into his hands. “So sensitive.” His words hold a mocking tone and you bite down on his bottom lip in sassy retaliation, “Fuck you.” A loud slap echos through the room following your words, sharp pain spreading through one side of your chest. You cry out in surprise, flinching at the impact as Corbeau tsks, “Watch yourself.” You find yourself nodding and stuttering out, “S-sorry.” as the hand that slapped you goes back to groping you. ‘

He grunts in acknowledgement and buries his face in your neck, his glasses poking you and the fabric hanging from them brushing against your skin. You turn your head obediently and hiss as he bites down on your skin. The bite is harder than the first one and he growls possessively into your neck, his hips nudging your legs apart so he can press his hips flesh against yours. You slip your hands into his hair, clinging to him as his hard on presses against your heat. “Corbeau,” You moan his name, just wanting to say it, wanting him to hear it. 

He starts rocking his hips into yours and you feel his head catch against your clit through the fabric, drawing more sounds of pleasure and need from you. You can feel your heart pounding in your ears as he readjusts and bites down on your shoulder, hands squeezing your chest roughly as he digs his teeth into your skin. “Fuck! Beau.” Your fingers dig into his shoulder, “Please. Please, I can't wait anymore.” You whine pathetically, bucking your hips up into his. He moans into your shoulder at the feeling of your hips straining against his and he pulls back from your shoulder, “Move.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. As he lets go of you you scramble farther onto the bed. When you look back his pants are falling onto the floor, quickly followed by his boxers, setting his cock free. You openly admire him as he gets on the bed, breath quickening when you realize he’s bigger than you’d thought. He had to be at least a solid 6 inches but what was most impressive was how thick he was. 

Once he’s on the bed his hands hook under your legs, yanking you towards him sharply, “Like what you see darling?” He asks in a cocky purr, raising an eyebrow as you gawk at him. Your breath catches at how aggressively he pulls you but you nod with a stupid grin, “Hard not to like what I see when it comes to you.” His fingers hook on the edge of your panties and he pulls them off in one swift motion, a smirk popping onto his face when he sees how wet you are, “Such a dirty whore, wet and ready for me.” Your face burns at the degrading comment, whining and shifting your hips with need, “Only for you.” 

His eyes light up with satisfaction and need at your words, “Only for me.” He agrees, reaching down and slipping two of his fingers between your pussy lips to gather your slick. You suck in a breath as his fingers touch you, head falling back with a moan at finally having some relief from the burning between your legs. As soon as your head falls back another loud slap echos through the room and your head shoots back up just as fast from the pain in your inner thigh, eyes locking with his with a gasped out moan. His eyes burn into yours, “Don’t take your eyes off me sweetheart. I want you to watch me fuck you senseless.” 

You nod, “Y-yes sir.” He leans down to kiss the spot he’d slapped, purring out, “Good girl.” before sitting back up and grabbing the base of his cock. He taps his head against your pussy lips, nudging it against your clit to draw out more pleading sounds from your throat before he lines it up with your entrance. You barely get a chance to think before he thrusts into your heat sharply. A cry of both pleasure and pain escapes your lips as he bottoms out in one thrust, all but forcing his way inside of you regardless of if you’re ready for him. His own moan escapes his lips as his hands grip your hips with a bruising force, “Fuck.” He grits out, starting to move before you can even start to recover from the initial impact. 

Each of his thrusts have you seeing stars, sharp, calculated, rough. He was both stretching you out and hitting deep inside you, overloading you in seconds. You grip at the sheets on his bed, gasping, moaning, and whining his name all at once as you watch him fuck into you, use you. “H-holy shit-” You claw at the sheets, back arching and hips pressing into his as you cry out, “I-beau-fu-” You aren’t able to make coherent thoughts as he slams into you, the coil in your core snapping without warning.

An almost sadistic laugh comes from Corbeau’s lips, “Look at that, already coming undone beneath me.” He mocks, panting as he slows down to enjoy the feeling of you clenching around him and spasming beneath him, “You feel amazing.” He adds in a moan, tone softer as you whimper beneath him. He loosens the grip on your hips so he can massage your thighs, never fully stopping his movement as he rocks in and out of you, letting you catch your breath for a moment. 

The cloudiness in your mind clears enough for you to let out a breathless laugh, “I-wow.” Is all you manage, shaking your head in disbelief at how quickly you’d climaxed. He chuckles deeply, “Ready?” You nod, locking eyes with him again, “Please.” He barely waits for the first syllable to come out of your mouth before he starts fucking into you again. He adjusts to lean over you, hooking an arm under your waist to pull you in and up to his hips while the other one grabs one of your wrists and pins it down. His glasses slip off his face but he pays them no mind as he starts to nip and bite at the skin on your chest, moaning and growling as his hips slap lewdly into yours.

His feralness alone has you seeing stars again, feeling overstimulated in the best way as his dick rearranges your insides. Your free hand flies up to hook on the back of his neck, pulling him in for a passionate sloppy kiss. He moans into your mouth, “Onyx.” Your name falls from his lips like a prayer and you feel a wave of affection wash over you, “Corbeau.” You moan his name back just as needily as you pant into each other's mouths. 

His grip on you tightens, thrusts becoming even more aggressive, “You’re mine.” He snarls, letting go of your wrist so he can grab your neck. He presses your foreheads together so you’re forced to stare into his eyes as he squeezes off your airway. His eyes are blown wide with lust and intense hunger, “You hear me?” You nod as much as you can in his grip, choked sounds escaping your throat instead of words as tears pool at the corner of your eyes. Your head feels like it's full of cotton and you start to see black on the edges of your vision. It felt so good, so impossibly good to be owned so thoroughly. His hips snap into you a few more times before he presses impossibly deep into you and moans. Your own hips shudder as you cum for a second time. That paired with the feeling of him filling you up has you feeling like you’re about to blackout in pleasure. 

His grip on your neck loosens and you gasp for air, filling up your screaming lungs as you all but go limp beneath him. His hips stay glued to yours as your walls milk him through his own high. His own eyes look clouded, chest heaving and sweat dripping from his face. When his eyes finally clear he pulls out of you and collapses beside you, pulling you close so he can hold you against his chest. You bury your face into him, enjoying being held as you catch your breath. 

His hands run through your hair soothingly. Once you’ve both caught your breath he pulls back to kiss your forehead, “Still with me?” He asks, tone laced in amusement. You nod, giggling, “Barely,” You joke back. His fingers brush gently against your neck, “Not too much?” You shake your head this time, “No.” you look up at him and give him your own devilish grin, “I think you could’ve gone harder.” He lets out a bright laugh, staring at you in disbelief, “Masochist.”

“Sadist.”

“Whore.”

 “Bastard.” 

The two of you devolve into giggles and you bonk your head back onto his chest, “I’m assuming you have plan B.” He nods, “Course I do.” He kisses your temple and sits up. You immediately start to complain but he stands up and scoops you up, “I know I know, but you’ll feel worse tomorrow if I don’t get you cleaned up.” You pout, head limp against his shoulder as you let him carry you, “Fine.” 

He carries you into the bathroom, throwing down a towel beside the large corner bath and setting you down on it so you aren’t directly touching the cold stone. He diligently starts the bath, testing the water as you lean against the edge and look down at the water starting to swirl inside, “Still not scared of you by the way.” He glances over at you with mild amusement, “Good.”

You reach up to feel your neck. The bite marks on either side would definitely bruise but it also felt raw from the choking. You start to wonder how ‘bad’ you look or if the choking left marks when Corbeau picks you up again and gently sets you into the warm water, “You’re plenty marked up if that’s what you’re wondering about.” You blush, “I figured, just wondering if I look like I got mauled by a wild pokemon or not.” He smirks, leaning back to admire your neck, chest, and how your mascara has run down your cheeks, “You look great.” You laugh, lightly shoving his shoulder, “Of course YOU think I look great like this.” He continues to grin, “New fashion statement really.” You shake your head, continuing to giggle as he slips into the bath behind you and wraps his arms around your waist to pull you into his lap. He starts to gently scoop the warm water over your shoulders before grabbing a washcloth and wetting it so he can start wiping the leftover makeup off your face.

Your eyes lid as he works, the warmth and touch being so relaxing you just melt into him. He continues to work on washing you up, hands warm and gentle. By the time the bath is full he's wiped you down thoroughly. He shuts the water off and just holds you, letting you and your muscles relax, “Don’t fall asleep in here.” He warns softly as he rests his head against yours. You don’t even bother opening your eyes, “Why not…” you mumble sleepily. “Because then I will and we’ll both drown.” A smile pops onto your face, “Not the worst way to die with you.” He rolls his eyes, “We’re not dying together. Not today at least.” 

Once Corbeau is satisfied that your muscles have gotten the full benefit of the bath he slips out and dries himself off, “Don’t move.” Before disappearing into the other room. You perch your arms on the edge of the bath, lazily watching the door as you wait for him. You find yourself replaying the whole thing over and over again, his words, his expressions, his tone. You felt both satisfied and excited to see what being his really means. 

He reappears moments later with a very comfy looking long sleeve nightgown. You cock an eyebrow, “Just how much stuff have you already bought for me?” He tilts his head back and forth, trying to hide his smile, “Not sure.” You scoff, “Corbeau.” You give him a pointed look, “You don’t need to buy me things, especially expensive things.” He furrows his brows at you, setting the nightgown down and walking over to help you out of the bath, “I don’t NEED to. But I want to.” he gently towels you off, scrunching your hair to dry out the ends that had made their way into the water, “You deserve it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I’m not sure I’ve done a whole lot to deserve such nice things.” Corbeau spins you around, a true glare on his face now, “Don’t say that.” The anger in his eyes makes you shrink. His expression softens and he shakes his head, “Onyx. You really don’t realize how much you do for the city do you? Day by day I see the city relying on you more and more. Your team alone wouldn’t be able to do a fourth of what they do now without you. Even if you weren’t doing all of that, you giving me your time and attention is more than enough to be deserving of everything I have to offer you.” He finishes drying you off and grabs the nightgown to slip the delicate fabric up your arms and over your shoulders, pulling it together and tying it together with affection. 

The more he talks the hotter your face feels until all you can do is nod and mumble, “Thank you Beau.” He nods, “Anything for you.” His words ring with unwavering conviction before he scoops you up again and carries you back into the bedroom. After setting you on the bed he pulls on a pair of clean boxers and shuffles around the room and various drawers. He returns to the side of the bed with three pills and some water, “Pain killer, plan B, and a sleeping pill.” You nod and take them all gratefully, sipping at the water before handing the glass back to him, “I appreciate you.”

He sets the water down on the side table and kisses your temple, slipping into bed and throwing the covers over both of you. You notice they’re a new set of covers and sheets, he must’ve changed them when he’d grabbed the nightgown. Once the two of you get comfortable you end up wrapped up in his arms, face in his chest and neck. As you start drifting off to sleep one word resonates through your head, “Mine.”