#Just finished reading this issue last night lol

[kinda-super-hot]

I Want More. (1)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairing: Harvey Specter x F!Lawyer!Reader - friends to enemies to lovers <3

Summary: This will be a series! Part 1: (Y/n) and Harvey were 'together' during their time at Harvard, but Harvey couldn't commit to an actual relationship. They 'break-up', or whatever you do to end a situationship, and split on bad terms. Years later, after they become successful lawyers, their paths collide once again when (Y/n) takes a job at Pearson Hardman.

Warnings: commitment issues, angst, arguing - I think that's it but if you noticed something I missed, please let me know.

Word Count: 1784

A/N: I haven't written in a WHILE. Please, please, please constructive criticism. Also, there's, like, no Harvey fanfics. I think I read literally all of them soooooo... that's why there's this thing. Anyways, lemme know if you're interested in part 2 (I already started writing lol).

Harvey and I didn’t used to be so distant. Once upon a time, while we were both attending Harvard, I was the person he went to practice flash cards to study for the bar. While I sat against my bed frame asking him questions off the cards, he’d lay on his stomach with his feet in the air. Seeing as we were both quick witted, we’d often get distracted and end with a battle of lighthearted jabs.

               And likewise, he was there for me when I had been stood up on a date with some frat boy. He ordered in some Chinese food and pulled a big tub of ice-cream out of my freezer. We sat on my goodwill couch picking apart the guy and making up some dumb unfathomable story as to why he hadn’t texted.

               “I can’t wait to hear the headline in the morning: Duke, whatever the hell his last name was, found having been thrown from his car in a head on collision right into a semi-truck loaded with rubber ducks.” He did a news reporter voice that didn’t sound far off from how he normally talked. “Luckily, the ducks cushioned his fall, so he only suffered having lost his phone and missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime with the (Y/N) (L/N).” I repress my giggle but can’t stop the goofy smile on my face. “What a loss.”

               “I mean,” I spoon more ice-cream into my mouth, “Who would name their son Duke? You can tell they wanted a dog.” He nodded along to that and all the other ridiculous things we talked about that night.

               But some friendships don’t last forever. Especially, when you want more.

               We grew closer and had fleeting kisses often. Some borderline dates, but never anything serious. Never anything real. Not to him.

               “Harv.” I called his name from the couch after I heard the door to his apartment open and close. He walked through the door with a smile on his face. “How was your day?” I asked, but I already knew the answer just by looking at his face. He had a mock trial set that day and absolutely crushed it. He was assigned the husband’s attorney and was in charge of making sure that the wife got the minimum of what she was entitled to without having signed a prenup.

               After he boasted about his triumph, I applauded him. But he wasn’t finished running his big mouth. And his next, one little comment, threw our relationship through a loop. “One of the stupidest things a person can do is get married.” He smirked as he took of his jacket and started on his tie.

               I froze in my place on the couch. He continued getting comfortable and taking off his restricting clothes with his back facing me. My throat was tight, but I persevered, I had to make sure that I had heard him right. “You think marriage is stupid?”

               I eyed his back feeling distraught. Every fiber in my being hoped and pleaded that he was joking, but my gut knew better. Moreso, it knew Harvey better.

               “Marriage, in my eyes, is an irrational vulnerability. There’s no point other than, I don’t know, taxes?” He rambles on with his back still facing me. My heart clenches. “And even then, it’s not worth it. Divorce can ruin everything. A man, his family, hell, it can run an entire business into the ground.”

               My head was throbbing, and I couldn’t help the hot tears that brim my eyes. “Huh.” I acknowledge. My voice feels raw already from holding back letting out any noises. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

               My voice must have given me away because Harvey flicks his head over his shoulder to spare me a glance before double taking. His eyes widen and his body tenses. He turned his body to me and takes a step in my direction before stopping in his tracks. A tear falls down my cheek and I feel burning hot embarrassment in my chest.

               “Honey…” He gently grabs me by my biceps and looks into my eyes. “What’s wrong.” His voice is smooth as he caresses my cheek and pulls my face into his chest. I let out a choked cry and he rocks me back and forth for a few moments.

               I feel ridiculous. “Oh, it’s nothing.” I can tell I’m not being convincing when Harvey pulls my face from his chest and gives that knowing look before putting it right back where it belongs.

               I had no idea what to say. How do you tell your kind-of-but-not-really-boyfriend that you had already planned what the centerpieces at your wedding would look like? That this was it. This was everything you wanted. He was everything you wanted.

               “Even if it was me?” I blurted it out before I could really think about what I was saying. He looked confused for a second but then his face went stern.

               “Y/N.” All of a sudden, his delicate touch is a little heavier. “We’re not even-…” He cuts himself off and looks to the corner of the room. My mouth opened as I processed what he was too scared to say.    

               “You don’t want me.” My expression turned icy and I looked down. He let out a frustrated noise and pulled away from me. Though, I felt empty before he could even begin to move from my embrace.

               “That’s not it.” His brows were furrowed, and he wouldn’t look at me. That’s exactly it. I read his face and could feel he was holding something back. I was at a loss for words. I removed my body from the bed and let out an emotional scoff.

               I speedily walked into the bathroom, trying to make a plan. Any plan that won’t leave me anymore heartbroken than I already was.

Leave.

               It was my only option. I eyed the unused, small garbage bag next to the toilet and ripped it from its basket. “Y’know,” I suddenly felt his presence behind me. “I know you’re studying to be a lawyer and their whole schtick is lying and-” I started tossing my deodorant and face wash and every other thing I bought for his place into the bag. “-and withholding the truth.” I ranted in a demeaning voice. “But I didn’t think you would do that to me-”

               “What the hell are you talking about?” His voice was raised and his hands were out to his side in an exasperated way. “I didn’t lie!” I didn’t stop tossing things in, in fact I’d finished my bathroom segment and moved on to his closet.

               “You’re right- you didn’t lie, you just kissed me, went on dates, and cuddled me! But, oh no, you’re right. We’re not anything.” I growled as I tossed my spare shirts and pants from his closet onto the bed before stuffing them in my already bulging, see-through bag.

               He didn’t yell, but he did have an icy tone when saying, “It’s not my fault if you convinced yourself there was something here when there wasn’t.” I stopped trying to make everything fit into the bag. The next few seconds were silent as I let his words sink in. My heart had to have gotten heavier because it felt like it was in my gut. Either that, or I was about to vomit.

               All I could think was ‘get out’. I couldn’t look at him, fuck, my heart hurts so bad. I tie off the bag and walked from his bedroom into the living room and finally, slam his front door. I couldn’t help but stop outside of it to try and listen for footsteps… but I heard none.

               So, I left. For the next few days, I spent my hours crying, sleeping, crying again and completely and utterly alone.

               I hardly saw Harvey again whilst I was at Harvard, thank God we were in different law classes. Of course, with an ego as big as his, it was impossible not to at least hear about him every once and a while. During graduation, I grimaced knowing that he was a few feet away with that million-dollar smile on his face. Never the matter, I put a smile on my face too and high-tailed it when the picture was over.

I moved back to the city I was born and raised, not too far from New York. I practiced as an associate for a while, but quickly climbed the ranks and made Junior Partner at the firm. I had mind blowing reviews and an amazing success rate that assured a job offer at whatever firm would have me. In fact, I worked so hard at my firm, that I reached the capacity of what they could pay me as a Junior Partner. I could either become Senior Partner or go somewhere else if I wanted to continue to grow my paycheck.

               And if I learned anything from Harvey Douchebag Specter, it’s that I should never settle. I set my eyes on the most successful firm in New York: Pearson Hardman. One over the phone interview and a quick glance at my numerous 5-star reviews, recommendations, and success rate-and I was welcomed to the Pearson Hardman family.

I rented an apartment not too far from the firm and began unpacking the few things I had. After paying off my student debt, I went on a spending spree, and I wound up with more than I could manage. After being knees deep in Dior, I had to offload some stuff. I packed everything I couldn’t part with and donated everything else to be distributed to a few women’s shelter. They couldn’t contain their excitement and now I’m a part of the state-wide organization. Funny enough how those things happen!

Either way, it was a fresh start, through and through. I had the bare necessities, and I was content. A shopping spree for some Ikea furniture was calling my name, though. The apartment was a literal husk up and would remain that way until I could find the time to go shopping.

Being in the city where I studied law and had some of the toughest years of my life made me emotional, but in the best way. Now I’m back, and at least 3 times as kick-ass as before.

Of course, since Harvard, I’d heard a comment or two about Harvey and what he’s been up to, but I tended to butt my head out, far away from his business. I’m sure he’s somewhere still in New York, I mean, he loved this city- but New York’s huge! There’s no way I’ll be seeing him anytime soon.

[becauseheartsgetbroken-hs]

bestie i'm new to the world of fics and it would be great if you could recommend me some good iconic stories to read 🥰pleasee ❤️

OHHH WELCOME BABY! 💞💞

Hope you'll find the great comfort they offer to all of us too!

I'm thrilled to do this so I'm gonna start immedietaly! Don't know what's your taste is so I'm gonna recommend many different stories I have loved! 😊

A Toast To The Future by @narryffdreaming is one of my favorite stories ever and I truly believe it's one of the most beautifully written stories I've ever read. 🙏 The way Dani approaches the past experiences of the characters and their emotions is impressive. I am always fascinated by stories that are authentic and the way that story is written makes you feel seen even if your experiences are not exactly the same as the characters. 💞 (can't wait to read the next part)

Maisy and Harry are just friends (except they aren't) by @narryffdreaming again because I just love her work! Friends to lovers trope (i loooove this trope sm) and it has everything: angst, fluff, romance, softness, smut, everything! Everything just flows so nicely!

When Y/N dates someone, they find their soulmate…it’s never her by @jawllines is super cute and lovely and made me giggle and blushing! It's such an unique concept and I just loved it!

Harry and Y/N are in the same ballet class, and they hate each other by @jawllines again and what can I say? Pure enemies to lovers story that has you in a chokehold. Everything about it is perfect! 😍

Daddy Issues by the amazing @fkinavocado is jaw dropping, I mean it! It's one of the first long stories I read in here so it's special to me. 🙏 Dreea delivered the great combination of spicy and softness with this story.

Sex Tutor by @gurugirl ! I really liked the way she wrote about this topic and it felt like she did it with so much respect (as she always does) and I just really had a great time reading it.

404 by my pookie @freedomfireflies 💗is one of my favorite stories ever and I feel like I have to tattoo this to my skin at this point. 😂 It's enemies to lovers and you can feel the tension from a mile. Also 404rry is the most annoyingly adorable characher ever and I just adore him. 🤗💗

Teach Me by miss @freedomfireflies again and let's just say that this series is on FIRE. A friends to lovers story that makes you feel things. One thing I love about this story is that the two characters share a deep love and respect for each other and I feel like it's such an important point.

Grumpy H and

You're my Last Shot by @cupid-styles are so cute and I had a great reading them! The flow is amazing in both of them and they are so well written.

Old Grudges ,

Just How Fast the Night Changes ,

The Sun Will Rise and

Valerie by @watchmegetobsessed are litterally amazing! Loved these stories so much! I come back to them from now and then and I have the same feeling every time I read them. 🥰

Harry’s a dick, and Y/N hates him for it. by @harrys-titties is so HSHJSHSSJ I just loved it! So beautifully written and it has everything: tension, angst, smut, romance!

Hawthorn by @adorebeaa is so beautiful! I enjoyed it so much! It is not finished yet but it is worth it! Again it's an enemies to lovers story and it really plays like a movie in your head! 💕

I got carried away a little bit hehe and I'm sure that if I continue I won't be able to stop lol. I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did! 💕

P.S Τhere are many other great authors that I didn't include in this post because I might just forgot them at the moment (sometimes when you need to remember something specific you just can't, your mind is just stuck ugh) or because I might not have come across their work yet so I don't want anyone to feel bad. Your work is always appreciated. 💗

Byeee xoxo

[skitskatdacat63]

One makes him up, so the other can break him down.

This is a little terrifying but hello!! Posted my first fic on ao3!! I would've saved the illustrations for the fic's eyes only, but I'm too happy with them haha. Hope you'll still go on to read regardless!!

As always, my thoughts and progress, since I can't help myself:

I'm soooooo proud of these. I never ever really do dramatic lighting, so I'm really surprised that I pulled it off.

It's surreal actually posting this because for a while, I've thought about how if I ever post a fic, I'll have to make illustrations too because I can't do anything not full force. Look at me now! I'm shocked. Also didn't think I'd finish it tonight, but here it sits before you nevertheless(though as always, I'm writing this past my bedtime before class, time efficient as always.) So with that being said, here are some notes, though if I had known I'd be writing this so soon, I would've prepared more lol.

First of all, I hope it's clear both of these are Mark's perception. Gah, the fact that his face is the only one you can see clearly. The first is obviously him unwillingly fantasizing about what exactly went down last night.

Aghhhhh the difference in colors and settings of the two drawings is so important to me. The warmth and intimacy of the bed behind curtains in the first one, and the coldness and openess of the second. It's so clear Mark feels like he's been distanced, like he's been ousted. It's like he's been thrown outside on a cold winter's day, no longer able to feel the heat from the comfortable warm stove inside.

Mark was probably assigned to Seb bcs he has a much greater appreciation for the Spanish etiquette, which Seb has very little interest in. He'll abide by it when he absolutely has to. But he's just a very non-typical Emperor. People find it charming so it's not a public death sentence for him, but it is an issue. Thus, Mark is there to keep him in line. Though important to note that when Fernando, who has an equal if not greater respect for the showmanship of etiquette, realizes Mark is interested in that as well, they start warming up to each other.

The inherent disrespect of Fernando just. Throwing Seb's clothing onto the floor. Meanwhile he probably took like, 20 minutes folding his up(that's what Seb was gonna tell Mark at the end of the fic.) Borderline ripping off Seb's clothes only to edge him. Its not even like the ripping off the clothes is because of passion or anything, he's deliberately being an asshole. Don't worry Nandl, Seb's turned on by it!

So sorry to marknando fans if their dynamic feels like a complete 180 haha. Its not like I'm like, they actually hate each other!! It's just their relationship under completely different circumstances. They're like two dogs in a dog fight, they don't have any real reason to hate each other, but they're put against each other regardless. They don't understand their hatred, just know that they have it and that they're supposed to have it. The inherent hatred the mistress has for the spouse, and vice versa. If they actually were able to talk without barriers, they'd realize they actually get along pretty well. They kinda just hate each other because of their respective relationships to Seb. And then there's Seb who's mostly completely oblivious to his effect, though of course plays with it a bit.

Seb's marriage completely recontextualizes their relationship in Mark's eyes. Though there's something incredibly sado-masochistic about the way he can't blame Seb for it at all. He's a loyal dog after all. But when it was just them, he was obviously Seb's main companion and lover. Seb definitely slept with people on the side, but Mark brushed that off: 1. Bcs its very period typical. 2. He was the main, they were the side, what more needs to be said! But now *he's* the side piece, and is left wondering if their relationship was down to proximity alone. Not to pull a Mark and completely excuse Seb, but it's not. Just very different perceptions of love and relationships. And again, as I've mentioned before, he was raised to always be the most important person in the room, so he obviously has very different understandings, especially since he's always the center.

NANDL!!!!!! In my Habsburg book I've been reading lately, they randomly referred to one of them affectionately as "Nandl" and it's stuck in my head ever since. Can we start a movement to canonize that as an official Fernando nickname? I'm sooooo fond of it, I litrally ended the fic that way just so I could shoehorn that nickname in.

Speaking of the ending. It was really tough, I almost wanted to have Fernando burst in, looking for his ring, and then coming across whatever that is. But I didn't want to disrupt their moment anymore, it felt cruel. Though shame I couldn't mention that the reason why Seb's pants are nowhere to be found is because Fernando accidentally put them on and didn't realize till he was out of the room.

*I FORGOT TO POINT OUT ONE OF MY FAVORITE PARTS! Truly the danger of writing a post while falling asleep. There's something so incredibly funny to me the way they're talking so refined and then Seb just throws out: "that guy." It's a way to show his own disrespect of Fernando, not even using his name, implying he's just some guy(nur ein Kerl.) I laughed writing it cause it reminds me of the random dry humor anecdotes I've read lately.

[golbrocklovely]

careful what you wish for // sam and colby (pt. 4)

A/N: first off, terribly sorry this came out so late. i've had a hectic last couple days, and didn't get to finish this fic up until tonight. and sadly, this the last thing i'm posting for my 13 nights of halloween. it's crazy to think that this is finally over. to anyone curious i will be getting back to answering asks by tomorrow. i'll also be writing up my review of hell week, and any other random things i had planned to write about/review before my 13 nights. also, i know so many of you have been waiting eagerly for this next installment, so sorry for the long awaited update. but hopefully it's made better by this fic. happy belated halloween, and happy haunting !

prompt: sam and colby have left you high and dry, so now you've resorted to possibly hooking up with a coworker at an event. but sam and colby will be having NONE of that. || vampire!sam and demon!colby x fem!reader

trigger warning: SO MUCH SMUT, manipulation via powers (surprise! it's not you this time), fucking in a public, fucking with a crowd watching, the crowd is also all of your coworkers, dumb business shit that i know nothing about bc i went to school for theater and work in retail lol, fourth wall break (spooky), cursing, degrading language, being bit but no blood drawn), mentions of: princess, baby girl, baby, slut, whore, called a fleshlight once, unprotected sex (but no fear of getting pregnant bc they're supernatural), gets a bit dark and possessive towards the end, heavy use of MINE and OURs, snc own you so…. if you don't like that don't read,

word count: 7077

~~~~~~~~~

It was Halloween night, and while you usually looked forward to Halloween, this night was a bit different. The company you worked at was having their annual 'Final Fiscal Quarter Party'. The higher ups agreed that it would be easier to throw it during October, rather than in December. Individual offices could throw their own then, but the main, big event was happening tonight.

Your company rented out a huge hotel ballroom. There was catering, a local DJ playing some family friendly tunes, and a stage where awards were going to be given out. You had been to a couple of these events over the years, but they were always very... boring. You would much rather be at home, snuggled up, watching a scary movie.

Or maybe getting fucked by your... boyfriends? It was hard to describe the relationship you had with Sam and Colby. They used you, but you used them. It was a very symbiotic relationship in that way. But currently, you weren't really too keen on them.

You considered hitting up your old friend, Jess. She was the one, after all, that magically brought Sam and Colby into your life. You hadn't talked to her in a long time. It could be because she still blamed you for the book permanently shutting and ruining her dating life forever.

She could bitch all she wanted, but she wasn't the one being stalked and fucked by a demon and a vampire.

You had grown a bit tired of Sam and Colby, their antics, and their overall ability to flip your world upside down. The sex was great, obviously. But at what cost?

Not to mention, they hadn't spoken to you, or showed up, in months. You were going through a bit of a dry spell, and hated the fact that they hadn't answered your calls. So, it did cross your mind to get rid of them. Permanently.

But that was an issue for another time. Right now, all you had to focus on was getting just drunk enough to enjoy this stuffy party, but not too drunk that you get messy.

And that came a bit easy for you. Across the bar, a handsome man smiled at you, giving you a nod as you accepted his drink. You could see his paper nametag said Brian, and you hadn't recognized him from your own office - so he was a safe bet. God knows you weren't the only one trying to hook up with someone tonight. Plenty of colleagues from different divisions were going to be getting crazy tonight. It was an inside joke amongst the company that this night was usually a fuckfest.

You gazed over at Brian, admiring his silky quaffed hair and great suit. He had a lovely smile; one he shot your way over the glass of whiskey he had in his hand.

A man like Brian seemed... dependable. A good choice for a significant other. Boring, basic, Brian. Maybe that's exactly what you needed. Something steady and settled. Not... supernatural.

Yeah, but could you ever fuck a man like Brian? A man like him could never fulfill your needs. You could hear Colby's voice in the back of your head.

You rolled your eyes, taking a long sip from your wine glass. No. Brian might seem a bit basic on the surface, but who knows? Deep down he could be a sex god. Maybe he was packing some serious heat, and just knew all the right ways to eat a woman out. Yeah, that's what's you would be focusing on. Not the imagine that Sam and Colby would surely try to paint in your head.

You were brought out of your thoughts as the lights dimmed up and down, signaling everyone to get to their seats, as the speeches and award ceremony was going to start soon. You shot a look at Brian one more time and found your seat quickly.

The head of the company sauntered up on stage as applause erupted throughout the room. He nodded his head, shooting a couple people smiles and finger guns. Eventually as the room quieted down, he stepped up to the podium, beginning his speech.

"Good evening, everyone. I'm so happy you all could make it here tonight. Happy Halloween by the way. Isn't this much better than a Christmas party?" He let out a solid laugh, swatting at the crowd jokingly. "But as I was saying, tonight we are all here to celebrate. This company might be big, but it's the little guys - the individuals - that deserve the praise the most. Sure, I'm the head and face of this place, but you guys are what make it possible."

Another round of claps came from the room. You glanced around and noticed that the chair next to you was empty. There was a name tag on the plate, designating this spot for a "Colson Brock".... whoever that was.

"Now before the awards begin, I would like to introduce you all to someone remarkable. This man has helped shape this company in many ways. And, he's incredibly sexy. So let's all give a round of applause for Samson Golbach." The CEO grinned brightly, gesturing to the side of the stage.

You raised an eyebrow, Sexy? That's a strange word to use at a business party. Not to mention, The CEO was married to a woman so... this was all a bit confusing. You awkwardly clapped as the light shined on a man with light blonde hair. He was in an all-black suit, his hair gelled in a sleek look. He waved at the crowd, smirking mischievously. He smiled once he got to the podium, his fangs glistening in the light.

Was that... Sam?

You gasped in your seat, staring up with wide eyes at the stage. It looked like him, but you had never seen him in a suit. Plus he wasn't exuding the same energy he usually would so, maybe this wasn't him. Maybe this was his doppelganger, or someone that looked extremely like him. You sat back in your chair, narrowing your eyes up at the man.

"Thank you all for having me here today. I know many of you don't know who I am, but that's by design. I purposefully like to stay in the shadows, remain almost anonymous. It's a system I built to keep this company running at breakneck speed, and so far... this has been our most successful year to date!" Samson cheered.

You could feel the room clap again, happy with Sam... Samson's words. You took a deep breath, your anger rising. This can't be Sam. Sure, it looked like him and even sounded like him. But Sam and Colby had never taken this... thing, with you outside of your own house. There was no way they would do this to you in front of all of your coworkers and colleagues.

"It's nice to finally be appreciated and received so well. I'm sure you've all had some crazy days and night working here. I usually work all hours of the night and barely get to see the sun. You would think I was some sort of a vampire or something." Samson chuckled, some members of the crowd following suit. He turned, catching your eye, and gave you a wink.

Did he just...

The chair next to you pulled back, a man sat down hastily. He cleared his throat, catching his breath. He unbuttoned his dark blue suit jacket, the silver pinstripes reflecting in the light. Your eyes traveled up the man's form, taking him in until finally stopping on his face. Everything about him was familiar, but his hair was pushed back, exposing his forehead. He took his glasses off, cleaning the lenses and sliding them back on.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” You growled.

The man, Colby, turned to look at you suddenly. “I'm... sorry?”

You crossed your arms tightly, sitting back in your chair. “I can't believe that you and Sam would do this.”

He gave a weary smile. “I'm so sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.”

“Right, Colby.” You huffed.

“Colby? That's a silly name,” he chuckled. “My name is Colson.”

“Of course it is.” You turned to him sharply, “You know you two have a lot of audacity to do this.”

He shook his head awkwardly. “Again, I'm not sure what you're talking about, Miss.”

“You guys haven't spoken to me in months. I've called out to yall and got nothing back. And now you show up and want to play dress up?!” You whispered harshly. “You guys are sick.”

“I'm not entirely sure what to say. I'm not who you think I am,” he dissented. “I'm Colson Brock, not Colby, and I've never met that man on stage before in my life. But I am about to get an award from him so... if you could just stop talking to me, that would be for the best.”

You scoffed. “I swear to God, Colby-!”

You were cut off as Sam’s voice grew louder, “This award is given out to individuals that show inspiring traits and work countlessly day in and day out for us. The award for Best Dedication, Integrity, Creativity, and Knowledge goes to... Colson Brock!”

You scowled as Colby stood up, patting down his suit softly. He walked towards the stage, shooting you a smug look over his shoulder. He stepped on stage, shaking Sam's hand, and a photo was taken of the two of them holding the award.

You grabbed your purse, sneaking off to the bathroom quickly. You stumbled in, rushing to the sink and leaning against it. The bathroom was empty, just you alone. You breathed deeply, shaking your head.

That had to be Sam and Colby. There's no way that wasn't them.

But a part of you imagined, for just a moment, that maybe... it wasn't them. How could they have manipulated everyone into thinking they were real workers at this company? The CEO introduced Sam, or Samson. Colby's name, or Colson's name, was on the nametag and award.

You felt yourself flush at the thought. Oh my God, if that isn't Colby, that man out there thinks I'm absolutely insane. How the fuck am I supposed to go back to my table, sit there and eat an under seasoned chicken parm, and pretend I didn't just berate a man?

You groaned, bending down, and resting your head against the sink counter. Even when Sam and Colby weren't around, they still fucked with you.

You heard the bathroom door squeak open, your body jolting up. You didn't need another person thinking you were losing it.

Heavy footsteps crept into the bathroom, a man. A deep voice sighed, snickering lightly. You glanced up through the mirror, your eyes widening. Colby swayed in, leaning against the wall. His suit jacket was gone, now just in his button up and slacks. He rolled up his sleeves, running a hand through his hair.

“Surprise, Princess. Did ya miss us?” He teased.   

You glared, “What the fuck, Colby?”

“What?” He gestured outside the bathroom, “A bit too dramatic?”

“This is my livelihood! How dare you and Sam come and fuck this up for me!” You exclaimed, anger coursing through your veins.

“Relax, baby. We would never do anything too bad. No need to worry. Everyone will forget any of this happened. Honestly.” He put his hands up defensively. “This was all meant to be a bit of fun. We just wanted to get a rise out of you.”

“Well, you succeeded. Congratulations.” You retorted, crossing your arms.

“You should be congratulating me on my award. I have the best dedication, integrity, creativity, and knowledge.... D-I-C-K. Dick? Best dick, get it?” He bit his lip cockily, “Came up with it myself.”

“You're a fucking genius,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes. “God, I knew I should have talked to Jess sooner.”

“Jess... why does that name sound familiar?” He questioned, feigning curiosity.

“She's the one that gave me the book that made the two of you.” You explained bitterly.

“Oh, she is? I'm gonna have write her a thank you card,” he winked. “But why exactly do you need to talk to her?”

“You two... I want you gone.” You admitted.

His face dropped, “What?”

You stepped up to Colby, getting in his face. “Aren't you tired of fucking around with me? Coming and going as you please? Why am I not allowed a normal life with a normal guy?!”

The lights flickered in the bathroom, Colby's eyes turning black for a split second, his horns visible. You shuttered, pressing yourself against the counter. The lights stopped flickering, and Colby was back to normal.

He cleared his throat, loosening his tie a bit. “Because... you're ours. You belong to us.”

“Fuck you.” You spat.

“You have... multiple times,” Colby pointed out in a snarky tone. “Even last year around this time, too.”

“Last Halloween?” You thought back, and a bunch of images started popping into your mind. Sam snapped Colby's neck but was also somehow terrorizing trick-or-treaters. Colby took control of your body but was also somehow dead while you and Sam fucked in your kitchen. It was all very confusing and didn't make quite sense.

“Wait, how the hell did you both fuck me and simultaneously not?” You puzzled, aggravated.

“I guess it just depends on what you picked.” Colby smirked, “Right, reader?”

“What are you talking about?” You replied.

“Don't worry about it.” He leaned against the counter next to you, “Back to what you were saying though. So, you want a normal guy so you can live a normal life... why? Isn't it more exciting to get fucked by a demon and a vampire?”

“Yeah, but there's more to life than sex.” You argued.

He feigned shock, “Take that back.”

You jeered, “You're extra fucking annoying, you know that?”

“And you clearly need the brattiness fucked out of you. But for some reason you don't want me or Sam to do it. Why? Did you have someone else in mind?” He took a couple steps, facing you again, “Like, say... Brian.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “How do you-“

He interjected. “I'm a demon. I know a lot of things. Not to mention I saw him and you eye-fucking each other by the bar. You're lucky I saw it and not Sam. Because Brian would be drained dry by now. Still probably will be.”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, fine. I was eye-fucking Brian. And why am I not allowed to? Yall have been gone for months.”

“But you've been putting that toy of yours to such good use,” Colby taunted.

“You're an asshole.” You shot back.

“Thank you. I appreciate the love,” he smiled genuinely. “But I gotta ask, do you really think a man named 'Brian' can make you come like we can? Be honest with yourself on that.”

“That's not the only reason I want him,” you responded sassily. “Plus, he could be really good at sex.”

“Okay then. Let's find out.” Colby stomped over to the door, yelling out, "Brian! Get in here!"

You furrowed your brow, confused as to what Colby had up his sleeve. What the hell was he bringing Brian in here for?

Brian stepped in, glancing between the two of you. He had a dazed look on his face, clearly entranced.

“Colby, don-“ You started.

He cut you off again, “Look, princess. You wanted to know if he's a good fuck. So, I'm giving you the chance to find out. See what a normal fucking will bring to your life.”

“You can't force him to fuck me!” You fumed.

“I mean, I definitely could, but I'm not going to.” He turned to Brian, patting his shoulder, “Brian, my guy, do you want to fuck Y/N?”

Brian nodded. “Yes.”

“That's why you were buying her drinks tonight, right?” Colby asked.

“Yeah.” Brian’s voice was dull, almost like there were no thoughts behind his eyes.

“Such an honest man,” Colby commented. “Do you find her attractive?”

“Of course.” Brian agreed.

“Would you sleep with her if she said yes?” He continued.

Brian blinked, “Yes.”

Colby looked at you, “There we go. Happy?”

“I'm not fucking him in here, or in front of you.” You retorted, leaning back against the counter.

“Don't you want to prove me wrong? Don't you want to wipe the smug look off my face when he makes you come with his tongue? Or his totally, not average sized, dick?” Colby stepped up to you, his voice low, “The moment I walked in here, you got wet.”

A rush of blood came to your cheeks, your breath hitching.

“No amount of blushing can hide that deep down, you're a slut that wants to be fucked - pretty much - anywhere. And you're only giving me lip because we left you cold and alone for a couple months. I'm sorry about that. I truly wished I listened to your pleads...” he leaned in, kissing your cheek. “And cries...” he moved to the other cheek, giving it a quick kiss. “And screams,” he kissed your forehead gently. “Begging me to come fuck you. But absence makes the heart grow fonder. And this, right here, is my apology to you.”

You stood still, unsure what to do. Part of you did want to fuck Brian, just because you did find him hot. But with Colby standing next to him... it was no contest.

“Here. I'll sweeten the deal,” Colby offered. “If he makes you come, we'll leave. Forever.”

You froze, “Really?”

“No, probably not. The whole magical book kinda forbids that. But we will leave here, and you and Brian can go on your merry way and you two can go have beautifully... vanilla, sex.” He smiled dryly.

“Lucky for Brian, I'm already wet.” You quipped, glaring.

“Perfect. Brian, give the lady what she wants.” He gasped, “Ooh, can I choose what he does? Pleaseeeee?”

You blinked, giving the slightest nod.

“You are so generous.” Colby spun to him, “Brian, do you want to eat her out?”

“I would... but I don't do that.” Brian spoke monotone.

Colby’s face dropped, almost mimicking yours. “You don't give head? Sloppy toppy? None of that?”

“No.” Brian replied.

“This is the man you want, huh? Absolute loser,” Colby pointed at him, rolling his eyes. “Well, Brian, now you do. So, go crazy.”

Brian turned to you, a lustful look overcoming him. He dropped to his knees, crawling towards you. Your heart raced, watching his every move. His hands wrapped around your ankle, slowly kissing up your leg gently. The sensation sent a shiver up your spine, your head falling back a bit.

Colby leaned against the wall, studying you. His face was blank, almost uninterested. You glared at him, trying to ignore his presence. He smiled, giving a little wave.

Brian nibbled on your inner thigh, his fingers stroking up and down the center of your underwear. He brushed against your clit, your knees almost buckling.

“You're wet, Y/N.” Brian hummed in awe.

“Yeah, that's what happens when you turn a woman on.” He leaned in, whispering to you, “Is he new around here or...?”

“Shut up, Colby!” You groaned. “Keep going Brian, please. I need you.”

“Don't take it too personally, Brian. She says that to everyone. Especially me.” Colby grinned.

“Drop dead.” You hissed.

He remarked, “I'm not really alive so...”

Brian pulled down your underwear, letting them fall down your legs and to the floor. The cool air hit your hot sex, making your body tense up. Brian leaned in, his mouth connecting with your clit.

You closed your eyes tightly, allowing the sensation of his tongue to arouse you more. It was a slow build, that was for sure. Nothing like Sam and Colby and the way they did things. But it was still nice.

But maybe not what you needed.

You placed your hand on the back of Brian's head, pushing him more into your heat. He grunted, the vibrations feeling fantastic against your clit. You amped up your moans, hoping it was believable to Colby.

He yawned, gazing at you bored. You shook your head, deciding to ignore Colby. You were determined to come, to make them leave. But Brian was not helping you, which was upsetting.

“Brian, baby... go a little faster please.” You begged, annoyed.

He nodded, moving his tongue hastily. You could feel the pleasure build more, but it was still a long way away from being close to an orgasm. He slid a finger in, pumping in and out sloppily. You groaned, feeling even less turned on suddenly.

“I guess I know why you don't give head.” Colby swatted at Brian, “Move.”

Your eyes widened, “What? No! Brian, st-”

“I know you want to come so we leave, but that ain't gonna happen with Brian over here.” Colby mentioned.

"Well, maybe he could fuck me!" You argued, gesturing to his dick.

“But I'm not hard.” Brian stated.

Colby raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Eating pussy isn't really a turn on for me.” Brian informed.

“God, Y/N, you really know how to pick them.” Colby pulled him up by his arm, smiling sinisterly. “Brian, why don't you leave and go find Sam? I think he can teach you a valuable lesson on what happens to men that don't please their women.”

Brian turned and left, not saying another word. You huffed, glaring harshly at Colby. “Your little glares aren't going to do anything to me, sweetheart. If anything, they just make me hard.”

Colby's hand slid down and cupped your sex, palming your clit gingerly. You gasped, back arching as you pressed yourself against the counter. Colby barricaded you in, his hand beginning to make small circles on your clit.

“This is how a man fucks a woman like you.” He uttered, staring at you intensely.

“But you're not eating me out.” You challenged.

Colby cocked his head. “If you wanted my tongue, you could have just asked.”

You suddenly felt a tongue licking at your entrance, your body shuttering in ecstasy. “Fuck, h-how-?”

"Did you forget I have abilities? Is it because the horns aren't here?" The lights flickered, and when they turned back on, his horns were out. “How about now? Do you remember what I am now?”

"Yeaahhh, I remember." You whined, your head falling back in pleasure.

“You are so sexy when you get close to coming. God, it makes me hard just thinking about it.” Colby pushed his clothed, growing dick against your thigh, “Do you feel me?”

You nodded mindlessly, your hands gripping his forearms.

“Princess?” He asked innocently.

“Uh-huh?" You murmured.

“I think that's enough for you." All the sensations stopped, Colby pulling away from you.

“Wha-? No. No! Colby, please.” You grumbled.

He asserted, “It's time for you to be punished.”  

“What did I do?” You questioned, your mouth a gape.

"I'm sorry, was Brian that forgetful or do you like playing dumb?" Colby spun you around, making you face the mirror. He rolled your dress up a bit, pressing his bulge against your bare ass. "Here's what's going to happen. I'm gonna start fucking you, and you have to remain quiet. Just like you were with Brian."

You lowered your voice, “Why do I have to be silent?”

“Because otherwise, you'll get caught.” He whispered cheekily.

The door busted open, and a gaggle of women came in, chit chatting like there wasn't a demon about to fuck you right against the sink.

You gulped; your voice even quieter. “What the fuck, Colby?!”

"Don't worry, princess. If you remain silent, they won't see you. But once you make a single noise, they'll know. They'll know that you are a dirty slut that likes to get fucked in the bathroom. That you're so desperate for dick that you'd let a demon fuck you. And a vampire." He tsked sassily, "Double greedy."

Colby unbuttoned his pants, giving your ass a slap as his cock sprang free. You bit your lip, holding back a gasp.

"You ready for me, baby?" He lined himself up with your entrance, sliding along your lips. Then finally, he glided his cock in.

You trembled from the sensations, direly wanting to moan along with him. But you didn't want to get caught. Being fucked while others were around, whether they could see you or not, was embarrassing enough.

But also incredibly thrilling.

Colby thrusted deeply, his cock hitting the right spot over and over again. You felt overwhelmed, but in the best way. Your body already felt like it was building rapidly, your legs shaking under your weight. You felt like your skin was on fire, burning against the cool air.

A lady walked up to the sink next to you, washing her hands and looking at herself in the mirror. You shuttered out a breath, Colby picking up his pace.

“Don't look at her, Y/N. Look at yourself in the mirror. Watch yourself get fucked.” He commanded breathlessly.

You turned your head, staring straight. He smirked at you in the mirror, keeping his pace the same while lazily pulling off his tie.

"This is what you deserve, sweetheart. You're such a slut for me." He yanked your hands behind your back, tying them easily with his tie. He gripped your connected hands, bucking his hips harder and faster now.

Your body buzzed erotically, your hips gyrating in time with Colby's. You could feel your edge building; all you had to do was stay quiet.

Colby slid one hand down between your legs, finding your swollen clit instantly. He rubbed it faster than his thrusts, causing your whole body to jolt. You sucked in a harsh breath, knowing you shouldn't have. But God... the sensation was too much for you to stay quiet.

The women in the bathroom looked around, confused.

"Baby, do you want to get caught or something? Because you are being awfully loud. Maybe you need something in your mouth to quiet you down." He snaked his other hand up towards your face, his two fingers rubbing along your lips. You parted your mouth, allowing his fingers inside.

He cursed, “That's fucking it baby. Be a good girl and suck them for me.”

You sucked his fingers like your life depended on it. He finger-fucked your mouth in time with his dick, both speeding up as the minutes passed. You could feel yourself getting close, knowing that your orgasm was imminent.

“It's been too long since the last time you sucked my cock.” He chuckled darkly, “Maybe later you do that for me. Wouldn't you want that, princess?”

You nodded desperately, bucking your hips wildly against his cock and hands. You were about to explode, your edge hitting its peak. This is all you wanted for the last couple months: to be fucked hard and well. And that's what Colby was doing.

“You almost ready to come? Build up baby. Suck my fingers dry. Suck them like you would my dick.” You took his fingers deeper, gagging around them. You pumped yourself on his cock, whimpering. "There you go, baby. What a good girl." Colby leaned in, his horns grazing your cheek as he uttered, "My good girl... Come for me."

Your body spasmed around Colby's cock, bouncing on it helplessly. You moaned loudly around his fingers, not caring if anyone heard. You had been so focused on staring in the mirror at yourself getting fucked that didn't see that you and Colby were all alone in the bathroom once more. His eyes bore at you in the mirror, flashing to black.

Relaxing your hips, his cock pulled out of you for a moment, letting you relax. You felt your juices run down your inner thigh, your body still running high. You leaned down, placing your head against the counter as you took some deep breaths.

“Hi there, baby girl. “A familiar voice came from behind you, but it wasn't Colby's. You looked up quickly, Sam now behind you, and Colby was nowhere to be seen. Sam waved back at you in the mirror, smirking. "You ready for me now?"

“W-Where is Colby?” You stuttered, your pussy twitching at the thought of Sam's hard cock.

"Oh, you don't need to worry about him. He'll be back soon enough." Sam traced a finger along your sex, gasping. "God baby, you are so wet. Completely soaking yourself."

He took his finger into his mouth, tasting you. "Fuck, I missed that."

Your mouth hung open, watching him through lustful eyes. His hand snaked around to the front of your body, grabbing your neck firmly. He pulled you flush against his partially exposed body, his cock hard against your ass. "We give you everything you could ask for, and you still wanted someone like Brian? How pathetic."

He forced your head to look at yourself in the mirror, "You are a desperate slut just begging to be fucked. But we're the only ones that can make you feel this good."

Sam slammed his hips into yours, his cock taking you deeply. You grunted loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. He took advantage of your still tied up hands, holding them tightly. His other hand raced up your back, lowering you down to the sink. He placed you flat against the counter, fucking you harshly. You shook with each of his thrusts, mewling at every in and out.

“You think you get to choose who fucks you now? You think you can move on from us?” He fumed, his cocking hitting your spot repeatedly.

You panted, “Noooo.”

“There is no one other than us. Let me make that abundantly clear: you're ours.” Sam's fangs sunk into your skin, your eyes widening. He continued to bite you all over, barely drawing any blood, but marking you; letting everyone know you were taken.

Your second orgasm was close. You needed this second one badly, itching to come sooner rather than later. You could feel how desperate and hot and slutty it was turning you.

“Baby girl, do you deserve to come? Have you been good?” Sam questioned.

You nodded, your whole body shaking, “Yessss. Yes I have. Please Sam! Please!”

He pulled you up again, locking eyes with you in the mirror. His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing tightly. “Ride my dick, baby. Make yourself come on my dick.”

You uncontrollably bucked your hips, whining on his cock. His hold on your neck tightened just enough, making it hard to breath and your vision blurring. The lack of oxygen made your orgasm hit twice as hard. You soaked his member, moving mindlessly on it until you finally finished. Your legs gave out a bit, Sam catching you. He snickered, his red eyes taking you in through the mirror.

The doors to the bathroom busted open again, a random lady coming in. She turned and looked at the two of you, not even acknowledging what she had to be seeing. "Y/N, you need to come out there quick."

You were taken aback by this woman, unsure of who she was or what the hell she wanted you for. "W-what are you talking about?" You rushed, shimmying your dress down, trying to cover yourself back up.

“They're calling your name. You won an award!” She exclaimed, leaving the bathroom happily.

You furrowed your brow, turning to Sam. But he was gone. Those powers of their really do come in handy for moments like these.

You shuffled out of the bathroom, even more confused as you glanced around at everyone from your company. They were all looking at you, smiling brightly and being congratulatory. You walked towards the stage, the people directing you, and as you got closer, you saw Sam and Colby on it, holding a plaque of some sort.

Sam pulled you on stage, kissing your cheek sweetly. Colby handed you the award, shaking your hand dramatically. You took the award in your hand, turning it to see what it said.

“Give it up for Y/N everyone. The biggest slut of the year!” Sam yelled into the microphone. “Congratulations baby, you deserve it.”  

You gawked at Sam and Colby, the reality of what they did hitting you. You threw the award on the ground, glaring at them harshly.

“Hey now, we worked really hard on that.” Sam pouted.

“Fuck you, how dare you make me a fool in front of everyone!” You ranted, getting in their faces.

"Princess, no one is gonna remember this. And luckily, no one will remember this either." Colby smiled devilishly.

Sam and Colby grabbed at your dress, tearing it off your body like it was made of cheap fabric. The crowd cheered, your body heating up immediately as you were suddenly naked in front of everyone.

“Now, don't argue with us, plaything. You can bitch and moan all you want to but being fucked in front of everyone... turns you on.” Colby wrapped his arms around you, whispering in your ear, “No matter how much you want to deny it, you can't deny how drenched you are right now.”

Your body quivered as Colby's fingers slipped easily into your cunt. You fell back against him; his suddenly naked body cool against your hot skin. Sam sauntered up to you, rubbing his hands up and down your torso. His hands kneaded your breasts, nipples aching to be touched.

Sam laughed, “Look at her, Colby. She can't even argue with us. She knows that we're right. She is the biggest slut of the year. She's our slut, our toy, our plaything. Ours. Forever.”

The room erupted in applause, some even screaming out your name.

“Let's give them a show, princess,” Colby gestured to the eager crowd. Let the people see the real slut you are. Isn’t that what you want? To be fucked in front of everyone.”

You couldn't think anymore. Every sensation was overpowering your thoughts. You knew deep down that Sam and Colby were right, and all you could think of was how badly you wanted to come again.

You nodded feverishly, your hands automatically pawing at both of their bodies. The air around you changed once you said yes, your body being positioned graphically. Forced down onto your knees, Colby stood in front of you, while Sam was behind you.

“Aww, baby. Look, it's your favorite positions: on your hands and knees, getting railed by us.” Sam jested playfully.

Your sex throbbed, direly needing them inside of you. You whined, looking up at Colby. “Please, just fuck me. No more teasing.”

Colby stared into your eyes, jerking himself off right in front of your face. “You want this, huh? You want me in your mouth. Say it.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I want you in my mouth.”

“And what about me, toy?” Sam slapped your ass, making you look back at him.

“Fuck, I need it. I need the both of you so bad!” You cried, grinding your hips back against Sam.

Hoots and hollers sounded off around the room. You glanced at the crowd, their hungry eyes taking your desperate form in.

“Fine then, since you asked so nicely,” Colby cupped your face, turning your head back to his cock. The tip pushed against your mouth, sliding in easily. He moaned lowly, almost animalistically. Sam teased his cock along your entrance, slipping in effortlessly.

Once they were in you, you sighed deeply. It felt so good to be surrounded by Sam and Colby, to be filled by them. They had you right where they wanted you, and you loved every second of it.

And the crowd seemed to love it even more.

They started off slow, taking their time to build your pleasure up. There was nothing else on your mind. All you could think about was their cock and how much you wanted them to come deep inside of you.

Colby gaped, “Oh princess, you have the filthiest mind. Maybe even dirtier than ours.”

“That's why she's our slut. We are just innocent people being used by this whore of a woman,” Sam shuttered, lulling his head back as he fucked you. “And God, I love every second of it.”

“I could fuck this mouth for hours. How does that sound, sweetheart? You love that idea, don't you?” Colby breathed, biting his lip, staring down at you.

You nodded enthusiastically, taking his shaft deeper. He grunted, hips twitching. His hand rested on your head lightly, pulling your hair softly. His grip tightened, causing you to gag around him.

Sam cursed, “Fuuuuck, she clenched around me when gagged. Keep doing that, baby girl. That felt so good.”

“Y/N, how can you get all of this, all of us, and still want something else? Especially Brian. What a fucking loser.” Colby groaned, disgusted.

Sam agreed, grimacing. “Dude didn't even know how to eat pussy. He didn't even like eating pussy.”

The crowd booed, screaming expletives at the sound of Brian's name.

“See, everyone knows that Brian sucks. How could you ever settle for something like that when you have the best right here?” Sam inquired. “Two men willing to do anything to make you come.”

"Let me make this perfectly clear, darling," Colby pulled himself out of you, raising you up so you were eye level with him. He held your face firmly, his voice low and calm. “While I'm never the type to get jealous, and watching you get eaten out by that joke of a man was entertaining and kinda sexy, let me be honest with you.”

His face dropped, his eyes darkening with each word. "If you ever go after another man again, I will personally make sure to rip his heart out in front of you, and then I’ll breed your cunt so deeply you will feel me for days. Because there is no one else for you, princess. Just. Us. Forever. That means for eternity, you are ours. You are mine."

Sam yanked your hair, pulling you out of Colby's grip for a moment. He grunted harshly, "That goes for me too, baby girl. If you ever even breathe near another man again, I might have to drain your sexy little body dry and turn you into our immortal plaything for forever. And don't think for a second I'm bluffing."

Colby took you by the neck, pulling you back towards him, choking you lightly. All the while, Sam was still fucking you. "There is no escaping us, Y/N. We will never let you go. No matter what you do for the rest of your life, we will always be there, in the shadows, watching. We own you. And nothing will change that."

His face relaxed, going back into his casual, smug look. "So... in the meantime, enjoy yourself, princess. And open your mouth again."

He pushed you down, his cock still hard and leaking, ready to fuck your mouth. Their words sank deeply into your mind, arousing and frightening you all at the same time.

Colby thrusted himself back in, gagging you. “There you go, baby. But now, I think it's time we give the people what they want. Right, everybody?!”

The room screamed in approval, lustful energy shooting through you from the sound. Suddenly, Sam and Colby began fucking you passionately, the sheer brutal force alone bouncing you back and forth on their cocks. You whined around them, feeling yourself get lost in the feeling of being their toy.

Sam groaned a breathy sound, “God, you're basically just a fleshlight, Y/N. Don't you love being used by us?”

“You know she does, Sam. Just a set of holes for us to use.” Colby’s voice was husky and low, “God, her mouth feels incredible.”

“She's so pathetic, really. She squeezed around me so tightly when we called her names. Maybe we should do that more often.” Sam taunted.

“Of course. There are so many more names we could come up with for her. But right now, all I'm concerned about is coming down her throat and fucking her until she chokes.” Colby's hips sped up as he face-fucked you. You didn't even have time to react, your jaw becoming slack and just allowing him to take over and use it like a toy. Tears welled up and rolled down your cheeks and drool dribbled down your chin from his harsh actions.

Sam's hand went between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts. Your thighs shook from the feeling, the pleasure overwhelming.

“You're so close, aren't you, princess?” Colby panted.

Sam chimed in; his voice depraved. “Build up for us. Come with us, baby girl.”

They pounded into you in unison, almost taking the breath out of you with each thrust. The room began getting louder, chants of "Come for us" came from the crowd, building up in time with your orgasm.

Every part of this was spectacular and you couldn't get enough.

Your breathing hitched as your orgasm hit the edge, ready to fall over once they said you could. Sam and Colby kept going, kept using you, until they were ready. You begged them to let you come, your pleas muffled by Colby’s cock. Both thrusted with abandonment, needing to come just as badly as you.

Colby grunted, pulling your hair, “Fuck, fuck! Y/N, come! Come for us now!”

“Do it baby! That's fucking it, YES!” Sam growled, his fingers bruising your hips as he held them tightly.

All three of you exploded in euphoric pleasure, bellowing out in ecstasy. The crowd roared as Sam and Colby filled you up with their cum. You released around Sam's cock, soaking him. You swallowed as much of Colby's cum as you could, gagging as he hit the back of your throat repeatedly until finally slowing his hips down. Sam slammed inside of you once more, grunting out a strained cry. Your body was spent, exhausted from being fucked so many times. You felt yourself black out, unable to stay awake a moment longer.

When you came to, you were in your hotel room, inside the same hotel the event had taken place at. You felt sore everywhere, knowing that wasn’t a dream. You sighed happily, snuggling into bed. You noticed a note on the side of your pillow. You picked it up, reading it quickly.

Ours.

- Sam and Colby

<< Part 3B || Part 5 >>

[punksyeet]

ᰔᩚ Distance ᰔᩚ

Plot: A glimpse into a day in the life of Gianna (OC) when her man is on the road.

Warning: Mature language & over-the-phone smut!

It's 2pm and, since I had a heavy breakfast, I'm currently making a fruit bowl for lunch.

Josh always makes me these when he's home and not on the road, so I decided to make it to kinda bring me some comfort with him being gone.

For context, it's WrestleMania weekend, and he has a match tomorrow for the first night, as well as tonight for SmackDown, so he's been on the road a little extra lately.

Despite how proud I am of him, since a match against his twin brother has always been a dream for them both, it doesn't make me miss him any less.

As I finish chopping some pineapple, I throw the scraps away and hear my phone ding, signaling that I got a text message.

I wash my hands, tap on the screen, and smile as I read.

Joshua 🤍: Hi baby

My Lady ♥️: Hi lovebug <3

Joshua 🤍: How'd you sleep?

My Lady ♥️: Okay. Not nearly as good as I do when you're here.

Joshua 🤍: I know baby. Me too. But we'll be back together soon okay?

My Lady ♥️: Okay 🥲🫶🏽

Joshua 🤍: I miss you lots mama ❤️

My Lady ♥️: I miss you more 🤍

Joshua 🤍: Impossible

My Lady ♥️: Shh it's possible

Joshua 🤍: Hmm yeah? Prove it.

Smirking and raising an eyebrow, I send him some videos and pictures I took last night in my brand new lingerie.

I leave the audio on, which is filled with moans and me whimpering his name.

He'll definitely enjoy these.

My Lady ♥️: [Attachment: 2 videos, 3 images]

Joshua 🤍: Holy fuck

My Lady ♥️: I win 😏

Joshua 🤍: Damn right you do ma 😮‍💨

Joshua 🤍: When did you get that set?

My Lady ♥️: Yesterday at the mall. Do you like it?

Joshua 🤍: I love it baby. You look so sexy. I can't wait to see it on you in person when I get home.

My Lady ♥️: Thank you baby 🥹

Joshua 🤍: [Attachment: 1 image]

Joshua 🤍: Look what you do to me 👀

I'm practically drooling at the sight of his boner very visible in his black sweatpants.

I bite my lip before replying.

My Lady ♥️: Ugh I need that inside me right about now 😩

Joshua 🤍: Mmm soon enough baby ❤️

My Lady ♥️: I miss you so much :(

Joshua 🤍: I miss you too beautiful. And I love you. More than anything. 🫶🏽

My Lady ♥️: I love you too <3

Joshua 🤍: Alright I have a promo with Jon in a few so I gotta go fix this new issue I have in my pants. I'll call you later, okay?

My Lady ♥️: LOL sounds good baby. I'll be watching. 🤍

Joshua 🤍: I know you will babygirl ❤️

You loved "I know you will babygirl ❤️"

Ugh this man drives me crazy.

I set my phone down and continue making my fruit bowl.

Once I'm finished, I take everything out to the backyard and sit at the table.

I unlock my phone and open the kickoff show YouTube stream to my man's entrance music.

He's dressed in a blue YEET crop top, matching glasses, black sweatpants, white air forces, his silver Cuban link chain, and fan bracelets.

I pop a piece of watermelon in my mouth and smile, as he comes out onto the stage and the crowd goes wild.

He's so over with the crowd it's crazy.

I'm so happy for and proud of him. <3

A few minutes have gone by and the promo is coming to a close.

"Tomorrow night," he begins. "Jimmy and Jey. Tomorrow night we stand on business. Man, tomorrow night, you boutta catch this yeet-down."

The crowd follows up his quote with a "YEET!"

"And if you want Jimmy Uso to catch this yeet-down," he continues. "Then lemme hear you say YEET!"

The crowd, once again, answers him with "YEET!" and cheers as his music plays.

I smile and clap my hands, feeling extra proud of him.

I love Jon like a brother, but I just know my man has this match in the bag.

I decide to shoot him a quick little text:

Me: You killed that shit baby. So proud of you! 🥹🤍

I finish up my fruit and, as I'm washing out the bowl, my phone rings. I smile when I see it's from my best friend and Josh's sister in law, Trinity.

G: Hey Trin!

T: Hey babygirl! How are you?

G: I'm good! Just finished watching the guys' promo. You?

T: Ugh me too girl. I'm nervous but, no matter who comes out on top, they're gonna kill it tomorrow.

I smile, nodding in agreement.

G: Agreed! So what's up with you?

T: Not much, girl. I actually called to invite you over. I'm feeling pretty lonely without Jon here and I'd imagine you're feeling the same way about Josh.

I let out a deep sigh.

G: Girl you have no idea.

She giggles.

T: Come over then! We can go in the pool, take some cute pictures, and spend some time together. That way we can keep them off our minds for a bit.

I smile and dry off the bowl.

G: Sounds like a plan girlfriend. I'll be over in about an hour or so.

She squeals and claps her hands.

T: Period! I'll see you soon babe!

We say our goodbyes and I head upstairs to shower and get ready.

I decide on a simple yellow cheeky bikini, throw a tube top and denim shorts over it, then head out.

—————————————————————————————————

I've been over at Trin's for a few hours now.

Our reason for hanging out has been quite the success: while I still miss Josh a ton, she's been keeping my mind off of it.

We decided to order in our favorite Chinese takeout and tune into SmackDown.

Specifically, Josh and his little brother Joseph aka Solo Sikoa’s match.

As my man is about to pin him, Jon comes running in from beside the ring, stopping the count.

I sigh and take a bite of my sesame chicken as Trin sucks her teeth. "He's so messy and for what?"

I shake my head letting out a soft giggle. "Girl that's your man. You're allowed to support him, I'll be okay."

She playfully shoves my arm and we share a laugh, before the crowd's cheering gets our attention and we turn back to the TV.

The camera pans to Cody Rhodes and Seth Rollins running out to the ring.

Eventually, they make it and fight off Jon and Solo, saving my man.

A soft smile appears on my face as Josh climbs to the top rope and delivers an Uso Splash to his twin.

"Girl," Trin says breathlessly, before taking a sip from her wine glass. "This rivalry got me all the way fucked up."

I nod in agreement. "Amen to that. Hopefully after tomorrow they can just hug it out and make up."

She nods and we share a laugh, then proceed to watch the rest of the show.

After another few hours of watching our favorite romcoms, eating, and sharing laughs, it's past midnight and I decide to head home.

"Alright boo," Trin says, leaning against my window once I'm in my car safely. "Drive safely and please text me once you get home."

"I will," I reply, and we share yet another hug through the window. "I love you."

"I love you too babygirl," she exclaims.

We say our goodbyes and I head off.

About 15 minutes into driving, my phone rings and reveals that Josh is FaceTiming me.

I smile, connect my phone to bluetooth, prop it up so that he can see me, and answer.

His gorgeous face pops up on my screen.

He seems to be laid in his hotel room bed, with his arm propped behind his head.

G: "Hi lovebug."

J: "Hey babygirl. Where you headed at this time of night?"

G: "Home. I was at Trin's place for a while. We had a pool day and watched the show together."

J: "Aw that sounds nice."

I smile while stopping at a red light and lift up my arms to stretch, yawning in the process.

He smiles, just sitting there watching me.

J: "Tired mama?"

G: "Exhausted. I can't wait to take a shower and sleep."

He lets out a chuckle.

J: "I bet. I wish I was there to help you relax."

G: "Me too baby. I miss you."

J: "I miss you more ma. But I'll be home before you know it."

I nod, giving him a soft smile and turning onto our block.

Soon enough, I park my car in our driveway and head into the house, locking the door behind me.

I shoot Trin a text while still on the phone with Josh:

Gigi 💗: Hey sis. I just made it home. 🤍

Trin 🥰🫶🏽: Good to hear girl. It was so good seeing you today. ❤️

Gigi 💗: Same here. Love you! 🫶🏽

Trin 🥰🫶🏽: Love you too! Sleep well. 🥰

You loved “Love you too! Sleep well. 🥰”

I smile and close my tabs, going back to the FaceTime with my man.

Assuming he's getting ready for a shower, he peels his shirt off, revealing his gorgeously toned torso and perfectly caramel colored tattooed skin.

Fuck I miss that body so badly.

He must've caught me lacking, because he smirks and raises an eyebrow.

J: "You like what you see, baby?"

I bite my lip, nodding.

G: "You know I do. I miss having that body all to myself every night."

J: "Who says you can't?"

I raise an eyebrow, clearly confused, before he continues.

** tiny smut warning! **

J: "Get those clothes off and lay down for me, mama."

I bite my lip and stare at the screen for a second as he sexily pulls down his sweats and boxers, allowing his dick to spring free.

I prop up my phone so that he can see me and slowly peel off my clothes as well.

He begins to get hard and strokes himself at the sight of my now naked body.

J: "Fuck baby. Your body...the things it does to me...you're so dangerous."

I sit on my knees and massage my breasts, sticking out my tongue and allowing my saliva to drip onto them.

J: "Good girl baby. Play with those tits for daddy. You know just what I like."

After a few minutes of this, we move onto my lower half.

"F-fuck daddy! Just like that!" I moan, my head thrown back, pumping my fingers in and out of my hole.

Josh moans along with me, stroking his now wet hand from the base to the tip of his dreamy dick, never taking his eyes off of me.

J: "I want you to cum for daddy. Let go. Can you do that for me?"

"U-uh huh," I reply, my fingers still at work, except now they're making rapid circles on my clit.

J: "Use your words for daddy, baby."

"Y-yes daddy!" I utter out in between moans, slowly but surely reaching my climax.

J: “Good girl.”

Just seconds later, I feel a pit in my stomach.

“D-daddy! I’m so fucking close!” I practically scream.

J: “Cum for daddy, baby. Gimme that shit.”

My body jerks as warm, white liquid pours out of me and onto the bed.

J: "Pick up your phone baby. Daddy wants to watch all that cum spill out of your pretty lil pussy."

I do as he says and, soon enough, I've made a huge mess all over our sheets.

And as if on cue, he hits his climax as well.

** smut over! **

"Fuck," I whisper breathlessly, laying back and panting like a nut job.

I can hear deep breaths coming through his side of the phone as well.

J: "You did so well for me baby. And once I get home, it's gonna be even sweeter."

I nod, my mouth still hanging open.

He chuckles and cleans up his mess, as I quickly change our sheets and get ready for my shower.

"I'm gonna get in the shower and hop in bed," I exclaim, my voice just above a whisper. "I'll call you in the morning?"

He nods. "Sounds good, mama. Go get some rest. I love you."

I give him a soft smile. "I love you too, baby. Good night."

We say our goodbyes and he even kisses me through the phone, causing me to giggle before we hang up.

I toss my phone aside and head into the bathroom.

I take a steaming hot everything shower, do my nighttime skin care, brush my teeth, all of that.

Once finished, I climb into bed and tuck myself under the covers.

I reach over and grab one of Josh's pillows from his side of the bed and snuggle it.

It smells heavenly - just like him.

The scent brings me automatic comfort, and within minutes, I drift off to sleep.

Liked by uceyjucey, trinity_fatu, zillafatu, romanreigns, and 2.6M others

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[uceyliyahh]

UNDER YOUR TOUCH

Summary; After her difficult breakup, Tiana wanted to start anew with her life. That's when she realized her life would be better when she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 5036

Smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso X Tiana

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tagged 🏷️

@paigereeder @biancasreign @pinkwithhearts @jstarr86

2.

TIANA

I was at work doing my final client's nails for today; she just wanted some French-tip nails with some gems on something pretty simple. As I was doing that, I saw that Josh had texted me, saying that he was on the way to come see me at my workspace.

Ever since yesterday, while we were on the phone together, we've been texting each other non-stop. Sometimes, it would be flirting or something sexual, but I was still keeping my guard up because, like I said, I didn't know where his energy was.

But I did have this crazy ass wet dream last night about him, and I was literally sweating bullets this morning.

As I was finishing up her nails, I saw a car pull up to my shop. I saw him get out of his car, enter the building, and look around for me.

When his eye darted towards my direction as he put a smile on his face, causing me to see his grills while walking towards my direction.

"Hey, pretty mama." Jey said.

'Him calling me "pretty mama" does something to me.'

I stood up as he placed his hands on my ass, giving it a good grip as I looked down at my feet, blushing like crazy.

"I still have a client to finish, sir, so you can sit and wait until I'm done." I said while sitting back down.

"Your nail shop looks so pretty here, ma." He commented.

"Why thank you, sir. My parents helped me pick everything out."

He hummed in response while pulling out his phone to be on as he waited patiently for me to get done.

I kept stealing glances at him as he sat there, man spreading, looking all good, wearing all grey, and again, his shoe game was on point until the girl said something that kind of threw me off.

"He's fine as hell, girl. Is he single?" She asked.

I shrugged my shoulders at her while curing her nails, "ion' know if he is probably taken." I could see her face being displeased at my response to her question.

The curing light had turn off as she pulled out her nails, looking at them.

"Ouuu girl you do it right every single time."

"You know I do." I said while smiling at her.

She paid me and gave me a good tip as well while I took pictures of her nails and posted them on my story like usual. That's when I saw her get up and go over there towards Josh, trying to get his attention.

I monitored the whole interaction, reading Josh's body language. It seemed like he was uncomfortable talking to the ol' girl, brushing her off as she left the building embarrassed.

I just chuckled while cleaning up my space. As I was wiping down the table, I felt Josh's presence around me, and he touched me, causing me to jump a little.

"My fault; I didn't mean to scare you, mama." He said softly as he placed his hands around my waist, nuzzling his neck onto my shoulders.

'He's getting way too comfortable with this right now, but I'll let it slide this time.'

"It's okay, Josh; just don't distract me while I'm cleaning," I said as I proceeded to clean my table and equipment.

Knowing that he wasn't going to listen to me, I felt him feeling up all over my body, including my breast gripping them, causing me to softly moan enough for him to hear.

"J-Josh, knock it off." I let out a breath.

"why mama? It's just us in here ain't nobody finna come in." He said while giving me kisses on the neck.

"Joshhhhh."

He stopped while chuckling at me as my face was flushed. While giving him a stern look, I walked up towards him, hitting him in his chest.

"My god, you're so annoying boy." I said while being annoyed.

"what? you is fine as hell girl." Jey said.

I rolled my eyes at him while continuing to clean everything before closing up shop.

✧.*

After closing up the shop, I told Josh that I was going to go home really quickly, take a shower, and change into some new clothes before going to lunch with him.

I pulled into the driveway, turning off the ignition in my car while unlocking the door. Bianca was watching TV with Montez, and they both looked at me.

"Hey girl how was work?" Bianca asked.

"It was good; I made some good money, and Joshua stopped by," I said as she sat up, wanting to hear more about this.

"GIRL WHAT? today?" She said.

I nodded my head, yes, as I went upstairs. She was following me to my bedroom, shutting the door behind her. "What'chu getting ready for?"

I looked at her while taking off my clothes and throwing them in the dirty bin. I was picking out a cute little outfit with a skirt.

"Joshua is taking me out for lunch." I replied as I heard her squealing from the top of her lungs.

I really couldn't really stand her ass, bro, like nothing is going to happen after this.

"Girrrrrl, you gotta lemme fix your hair and makeup for this date." She said.

"It's not a date B."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, girl, hurry and take a shower so I can do your hair and makeup."

I nodded my head yes while heading to the bathroom to take a shower. I let the water hit my body gently while lying on the wall next to me, just in my thoughts as usual.

MINI SMUT WARNING I was thinking about him earlier after what he did I just couldn't stop thinking about it it's like I wanted him to do more of just kissing me on the neck.

I felt myself touching myself in, imagining him beating my back out while pulling onto my hair, slapping my ass, choking me.

I felt my breath getting uneven, not trying to moan loudly while Bianca was in my room as I continued to rub myself thinking about him.

'Why is he making me feel this way when aren't around each other?'

I was holding my legs together while moaning his name softly so that Bianca wouldn't hear me I haven't touched myself in so long it felt so good to do so.

I felt a pit going down in my stomach as I rolled my eyes in the back of my head while continuing to rub my clit faster.

Imagining it was him rubbing it while eating it, too? I bet his head game was on point, and his stroke game was, too. He seems like the type to be dominant whenever it comes down to it.

"F-fuck J-Josh." I moaned softly as I heard a knock on the door.

"Hey girl, are you done c'cmon? We gotta get you ready." Bianca said.

"I-I'm a-almost f-finish!" I felt my legs tightening as I came all over myself while breathing heavily. SMUT OVER

I wiped myself down with my rag while turning off the shower, exiting the shower and wrapping my towel around my body.

I walked back inside my room and closed the door behind me, while Bianca looked at me with a perplexed expression.

"Girl, you good? Why do you look so flushed?" She asked.

"Nun girl let's focus on getting me ready." I said while pretending like I ain't just touched myself.

✧.* Bianca got me together while fluffing my hair up one last time. She smiled while looking at how good I looked for this mini date—' well, 'that's what I would call it.'

I texted Josh that I was ready for him to come get me while I sent him the address to our place. He texted back, saying that he was ten minutes away.

'He's not fair from where we are at?'

"Ouuuu, girl, you look so good. He's going to be all over that today, so you might as well pack a sleeping bag over there," Bianca said as I hit her in the arm while she winced.

"Girl, don't play with me right now. We are not going to be doing nun of that," I said.

"T, I know you're going to be pouncing on Joshua soon enough once you see a fine specimen like him, " she said as I gave her a stern look.

"Girl shut up."

She chuckled a little as she saw a car pull up in the driveway. It must've been Jey pulling in. " Ya man just pulled me, Tink."

"One last time, he's not my man B." I said as she threw her hands up in defense.

'I mean, is she lying about what she said? I mean, this man is way too fine to be single fr.'

I looked in the mirror one last time before opening the door for Jey. As I opened the door for him, I was captured by his pretty face, not even noticing the bouquet of roses he had in his hands.

'Damn, he looks so good right now, making me think about earlier.'

His fit and color looked good on him, too. As he smiled, it looked like he had fresh-cut grills in his mouth, and I did the same thing.

He was wearing a tight, deep black shirt that looked like it was made from silk, so I could see his muscular body and arms. He was also wearing a Rolex watch and some nice leather pants, including the golden chain he had on. This man was prepared.

I snapped back into my senses as he walked up towards me, handing me the roses, which were my favorite, especially since they were white.

"Josh, you didn't have to get me roses." I said while smelling them.

"I'll do anything for a pretty woman like yourself." He said while grabbing me by the waist, pulling me into him.

'This man will be the death of me I swear.'

He didn't even acknowledge Bianca, who was standing right there watching us. Instantly, I folded for this man. I couldn't even keep eye contact with him because he made me nervous. No man has ever made me feel like that.

'Not even Malakai so Jey is the only person to do so.'

"C'cmon, love birds, let's get you all outta here, please. I don’t want to see all that in front of me," Bianca said as I looked at her in disbelief.

She gave me the don't start look, and I snickered at her as Josh and I left to get something to eat together.

We were in his car, driving towards the place while listening to some music that he was playing in the car. He had his hand on my thighs while driving with one hand.

God, this man was so fine without even trying, bro. It doesn't make sense. I was looking outside the window, enjoying the car ride, when I felt him squeeze my thigh, making me look at him.

"You good mamas?" Jey asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine Josh." I said while giving him a faint smile.

"Ight I was just making sure, with yo cute ass." He gave my thigh a little slap on it as I hissed at the stingy sensation I felt on my thigh.

I mean, mugged while rolling my eyes at him, "Keep rolling them eyes at me. Imma' give yo ass something to roll 'em about." My face felt a bit flushed when he said that kinda got me excited but I digress.

When we finally pulled up at the restaurant, it looked so pretty, and the aesthetic was very pleasing to look at. I felt like I was on the set of a show or something, you know?

We sat down at our tables while waiting for the waitress to come, but he kept stealing glances at me every chance he had, which seemed pretty amusing if you asked me.

"What, boy? you've been looking at me for the past minute now." I said as he licked his lips.

"I mean, what can I say? You're a very beautiful girl. How can I not look at you?" he said while rubbing his beard.

'I like his energy fr.'

"Stoppp, Josh." He was making me feel nervous. He chuckled lowly as we saw the waitress coming.

"Hello, guys. I'm Stacy, and I'll be your waitress for  this evening. Can I get you all something to drink?" Stacy said.

"I'll take a water with ice and lemon please." I said.

"How are you sir?"

"I'll also take the same thing but without the lemon."

She nodded her head, yes, while letting us know that she'd have our drinks here in a bit. Meanwhile, Josh and I just couldn't stop glancing at each other, monitoring our features.

I couldn't keep eye contact with this man anymore, so I looked down at the ground for a bit, trying to keep all of my dirty thoughts to myself until he spoke.

"Lemme see that pretty ass face mama, don't be shy." He compliments while rubbing my thigh with his hand.

'He was making me feel wet right now.'

I want to do the things I want to do to him right now, but we are in public, so that's going to have to wait. I had to break out of this, "Whatever, so you're a tattoo artist?"

He nodded his head yes, "Yeah, I've been doing it for like four years now, and I own that tattoo you were in when we first met." Jey said while folding his arms.

"Oh, fr that's dope as hell, Josh. By the way, I loved the aesthetic of your tattoo shop," I said as he smiled and showed off his grills.

"Why, thank you mama." God, I am melting at this point with these pet names.

✧.*

Josh was taking me back home after our evening together. It's almost making me believe in love again, but I'm still going to keep my guard up and protect myself.

He was passing the blunt towards my way as I smoked it a few times before giving it back him we were high as a kite not even going to hold you, mind you I was already feeling him.

He stole a glance at me as his eyes were red and low, turning me on, but that had to wait because I was not ready for allat shit. His probably bigger than Malakai, ion know, but I didn't want that thing near me.

"You know what would be good right now? seeing yo ass bouncing on this dick." Jey said lowly.

"Mhm, we'll see boy." I said feeling him squeeze on my thigh.

"you scared, huh? you scared you won't be able to handle it." His ass read me like a damn book; how did he even know that? It was probably my energy, and I can't help myself when there is a fine specimen driving me home.

We continued to smoke out the rest of the blunt together felt like we were on cloud nine in his car; I felt even more hornier than ever.

We pulled up to the driveway as he turned off his ignition in his car as we both sat there in silence and high as fuck, I noticed him reclining the back of his seat while looking at me.

"C'mere mamas." he said while unbuckling my seatbelt, pulling me onto his lap, and holding me in place with my hips.

He looked up at me while licking his lips, slowly moving his hands onto my ass, gripping both cheeks, causing me to feel an electric shock down my spine all the way to my pussy.

"J-Josh Bianca and Montez are here." I said.

"So? What that gotta do with me, ma?"

"I'm just saying that's all."

He nodded his head while continuing to rub both of my ass cheeks, giving it a good smack on both of em making me yelp.

I felt him getting hard up against me, which, honestly, I wanted to escape before getting my back blown out by him. Ion know how he is when it comes to fucking.

"Shit girl, you getting me all bricked up and shit." Jey said while thrusting up his hips a bit for me to feel it.

Jey sat up, and my face and his were close to each other, eyeing each other's features and details. It was like we were trying to read each other.

He looked down at my lips and then back into my eyes. I could read him carefully; he wanted something as I felt him grab my throat with his hand while placing his lips onto mines.

Gripping my ass tighter, causing me to moan in the kiss, feeling him smoking under it, for some odd reason, I started moving my hips onto his hardened dick, causing him to moan.

We continued to tongue kiss each other as he replaced his lips onto my neck, sucking it , marking me up while gripping onto his mullet hair along with moving my hips still.

"you. finna. make. me. fuck you. if you keep playin' with me lil' mama." Jey growled in between the kisses.

I didn't want to get myself in trouble so I just stopped my movements while continuing to make out with him in his car, he held onto my throat firmly ass both our tongues were fighting for dominance n of course his won.

He marked me up perfectly while pulling us away from each other to take a breather as we looked into each other's eyes deeply. Mind you, we were still high as hell.

Now he was hard as a rock underneath me. He pecked my lips softly as he placed his hands back onto my ass, gripping it.

If there is any light movement right now, I will probably be folded like a pretzel in the back seat.

"why is yo' ass so pretty ma?" He asked while playing in my hair.

"I don't know, sir, why don't you ask my mama?" I said as I played with his face along his mullet.

'There's something about him that's different from Malakai, I just can't put my finger on it.'

We were both horny and high, but I didn't want to go far because I needed to get to know him more before we headed towards that stage.

"If I pull these panties down along with my boxers, you goin' to let me beat it in?"

My mind was foggy, and I couldn't think straight due to us being high, so I nodded my head yes while continuing to play in his hair.

"Hmm, you lucky. You're home right now, so I'll wait." I nodded my head while shifting off of him back into my seat before me and him started walking out of the car.

I made sure I grabbed my purse and keys. Meanwhile, Jey walked me up to the door, turning me around to face him.

"when am I going to see yo' pretty ass again?" Jey asked while holding onto my hips.

"Whenever you want to see me, you know where I'm at and where I stay." I said wrapping my arms around his neck.

"hm, bet imma see you later then mamas." He pecks my lips a few times before pulling away from each other's grip.

I unlocked the door, and Bianca was in the living room. She noticed my hickies, and that's when she started yelling from the top of her lungs, probably enough for Jey to hear.

"DID YALL FUCK WHEN YALL GOT HERE!?" She shouted as I rolled my eyes at her.

"No, B, we didn't fuck. We just made out and gave each other hickeys, that's all." I said while holding onto the wall as I was taking off my heels.

She sniffed her nose like she was a dog or something.

"Y'all smoked some weed?" Bianca asked.

"Yes we did I didn't even know he get down like that."

I went upstairs towards my bedroom while shutting the door behind me  sitting down on my bed feeling relaxed.

I felt my phone beeping. I had two attachments and one video from Jey. When I went to open the messages, I almost had a heart attack looking at them.

He sent me two attachment of his dick and a video of him stroking it a whole one minute video of him stroking it while moaning my name.

It almost wanted me to send him some pictures, too, but we were getting way too comfortable with each other until he sent me another message.

Jey: I wanna beat your pussy in so bad rn looking all good like that today. 😮‍💨

I liked his message before heading in the shower.

✧.*

Josh and I were on FaceTime together. I was watching a movie, and he was on the game like usual. I propped him up on one of my pillows so that he could see me as he did the same.

'It was like we were doing couple things without being a couple.'

FACETIME Jey: mama what'chu sleeping in right now? Tiana: something comforting Jey: lemme see

I removed my blankets off of me showing him what I was wearing, I was wearing a tank top with some booty shorts on while purposefully bending over just to tease him a little bit.

He licked his lips while rubbing his beard with both of his hands.

Jey: don't play with me tiana like I won't come over there and beat that shit in. Tiana: hm ion think so but okay Jey: Bet. Tiana: what you mean bet? you aren't actually driving down here right?

He didn't say anything but put on a shirt and his sweats hearing him grab his keys as he ended the conversation, 'I know his ass ain't coming over at this time of night.'

I think Bianca and Montez were still downstairs watching a movie together, so they'll probably let him in, knowing how badly Bianca wants me and him together.

Maybe teasing him wasn't the right move because I'm not prepared for him to beat my shit in with that big ass dick he got, my assumptions were right he was wayyy bigger than Malakai.

Seeing a car pull up in the driveway I knew that it was Josh because he plays Loud music in his car, I heard him knocking on the door knowing that Bianca would let him in hearing them talking downstairs.

"Yeah, she's upstairs right now, probably sleeping."

I heard him chuckling

"oh fr? well, she has a surprise."

I heard their footsteps stop near my door before they started to knock. I stood up, acting like I was sleeping, opened the door, and saw Josh and Bianca standing there.

I pretended to yawn while rubbing my eyes, stretching. I knew that Josh wasn't buying my act, but Bianca had no clue what was happening.

"My bad girl I didn't know you were sleeping," Bianca said.

"Yeah, I guess I might've slept for too long." I said while looking at Josh.

"Well, okay, then I'll let you two be." She walked back downstairs, and Josh stood there with his arms folded.

I turned around, walking away as I heard him shut the door behind him, grabbing me up by my thighs as I wrapped my legs around his torso.

He gaze was dark and lustful as he walked us towards my bed sitting on it and holding me in place on his lap.

He proceeded to grab my throat firmly while keeping his eyes on me, monitoring my features as I did the same thing.

He began to capture his lips onto mines as we both moved them in sync as I felt his hand slowly moving towards my ass giving it a good grip on it meanwhile I felt his tongue sneaking inside my mouth causing me to be taken aback by this until he pulled me in closer making it more aggressive and passionate at the same time.

MINI SMUT WARNING.

"when I give you this dick, yo ass betta not run you hear me?" He demanded while looking into my eyes.

I nodded my head in response as I felt a slight slap on my thigh, causing me to winch in pain, "lemme hear you say it, mama."

"Yes I hear you Josh." I said softly.

He began putting his face in between my legs and started to eat my pussy out causing me to moan loudly.

His nose was rubbing up against my clit while I was gripping onto his mullet.

'This man gives wayyy better head than Malakai.'

I felt him stick two fingers inside of me as he continued to rub his nose onto my clit including moving his fingers at a normal pace.

He was working magic onto me I felt so overstimulated right now this man had me seeing stars.

"F-fuck Josh..." I moaned while continuing to grip onto his mullet.

"Uh-Huh...mama... it feels good, doesn't it?" he cooed as he kept his pace going.

"Y-yes. " I felt like I was on cloud nine right now, as his tongue was doing the work, and his beard tickled me a bit.

I felt his fingers moving a bit faster as he looked up at me with his hooded eyes, it satisfied him seeing me squirming around his touch.

He rubbed his nose and tongue faster onto my clit having me roll my eyes in the back of my head while breathing heavily.

"J-Josh!"

"Give me that shit mama, cum on my face, c'cmon you got it baby." Jey encouraged as I felt a heavy pit going down my stomach.

I felt my legs tighten as I squirted into this man's face seeing him sucking all of my juices down causing me to shake violently.

"fucccccck Joshhhh." I moaned loudly as I was breathing heavily.

Josh pulled his face from my pussy seeing him suck his fingers tasting my essences, he pulled down his red psd boxers as my face went into complete shock.

He smirked down at me seeing his nice eight inch brown dick sprung up from his boxers ion think I'll be able to handle this.

"Come suck it mama, I wanna feel your mouth around it." Jey said as I put my hair up in a pony tail pulling his dick towards my mouth.

I was bobbing my head up and down on his tip as he was moaning in pleasure while throwing his head back.

I kept stroking it up and down as my tongue circled around his tip driving him insane as I felt him grab a full load of my hair and begin thrusting inside of my mouth lucky for me I didn't have any gag reflex.

"Fuuuuck mama your mouth feels so good around me...shit." Jey grunted as he kept moving his hips.

His dick was deep inside my throat as I was holding onto his thighs trying to keep up with his pace causing me to stop him trying to gain some type of control.

I went back to stroking him while constantly licking his tip it was a lot of saliva dripping down on the bed sheets and my thighs.

"this yo' dick mama, all yours." I love hearing that so much coming out his mouth hearing him moan and groan.

I was squeezing his balls as he tightened his legs a bit while I continued doing what I was doing, swirling my tongue onto his sensitive tip.

He wanted to grab onto me but didn't as I felt his dick twitch inside of my mouth, knowing that he was close to busting inside of my throat.

"D-don't stop, Mama... keep goin'," Jey moaned, throwing his head back.

I could see him roll his eyes in the back of his head while gazing down at me caressing my cheek.

"Fuck you're so beautiful." I smiled at him while bobbing my head faster so he could get his nut.

He grabbed my hair once again, thrusting inside of my mouth in a fast past, letting him gain control again while I held onto his thighs.

He threw his head back at the pleasure he was feeling as he kept his pace up, making me breathe through my nose.

"When I nut, I want you to eat that shit up, you hear me?" He grunted as he kept face fucking me.

My throat and jaw were in pain but I had to keep pushing through it as I pushed myself back to jerk him off as he whined.

I found it amusing to hear him whine as I kept stroking his sensitive tip up and down feeling him quivering under my touch.

As I gave it one last stroke, he groaned very loudly while cursing under his breath as his nut splattered all over my face, feeling this sticky sensation on my face.

SMUT OVER.

I went towards the bathroom to wipe down my face until I felt him behind me kissing my shoulder as he tapped his dick onto my ass.

"Didn't I say when I give you this dick, yo' ass betta not run right?" He said.

"Y-yes?" I said nervously.

"Well c'mere and give me this pussy then mama."

Under your touch.

biancabelairwwe, shelovekai, MontezFordWWE and 88,999 people liked your posted.

tianasworld: get you a man that can take you out to a nice lunch thank you @ uceyjucey 🥰

biancabelairwwe: GIRL HE TOOK YOU THERE? HE GOT MONEY FR YALL BETTER START DATING LIKE NEOW! tianasworld: @ biancabelairwwe girl...relaxxx shelovesemma: wait a minute you got a new man? tianasworld: @ shelovesemma 🤫🤫 shelovekai: she don't got a new man I bet he probably a bum fr 😑 uceyjucey: @ shelovekai but I'm beating her guts in better than yo' goofy ass so move around. 💁🏽‍♂️ MontezFordWWE: @ uceyjucey 👀👀

A/N: phew I didn't expect to write this much today lol but I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments.

Stay Ucey.

[feyrescourt]

This is a long and rambly discussion post for elriel nation btw so strap in

I want to preface this by kindly asking the elriel hive to not use any tags of #those ships if reblogged. I want to keep this in the elriel echo chamber. Please and thank u!

A huge part of fandom culture is to ship canonically compliant characters and crack ships. Everyone’s got them, and it’s totally normal, and it’s usually fun to engage with.

The majority of the time I have no issue with this (I am a wolfstar shipper and even though there is canonical evidence of them in the original HP books, they’re widely accepted online and balked at IRL usually due to homophobia and #that nasty, nasty woman’s bigotry), but over the last few years a certain group of crack shippers have taken it upon themselves to fly a little too close to the sun, and want to make it our (elriels) problem. I am talking about the Glees.

It’s late and this just popped into my head so I want to rant about it.

My friend who got me into ACOTAR gave me a breakdown of the ships (bc I read ToG first and went in blind. I became a doraelin shipper very early on and remained one halfway through QoS, it was a whole thing when I realized they were not end game lol), bc I asked her to after my ToG experience. She told me all the characters names and then told me about feysand and nessian endgames but didn’t mention az or elain’s situation. I asked her about it and she told me that she didn’t want to mention much about Az because “by the end of the series azriel has two options for how his story could go, elain or another way”. She shared some anti elain sentiment with me because she’s “boring and doesn’t do anything”. That went in one ear and out the other with me tbh.

When I started acowar, and feyre returned to the night court, I saw how elain and azriel were interacting and I concluded that mor was the second LI of az bc of acomaf. I was not apart of the fandom online at this point, so I was genuinely in the dark about everything around these two. I was just reading and talking to my friend about what I read. I also want to add that I still liked L*cien at this point in the series (it changed in acofas, I became apathetic towards him rather quickly when I finished reading that whiny ass convo with feyre…..I don’t play when it comes to her) but wasn’t sold on eluce because they had like one interaction and it wasn’t a great intro to a ship.

However this first meeting in acomaf….. :)

‘Can you truly fly?’ He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, ‘Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.’ ‘That’s very beautiful,’

“Rhys chuckled, Cassian’s wrath slipping enough that he grinned, and Elain, noticing Azriel’s ease as proof that things weren’t indeed about to go badly, offered one of her own as well.”

Well imagine my surprise when I finished acowar and it turns out mor (the person az has crushed on for 500 years) comes out to feyre before the book ends and she explains that she can never love az the way he loves her. After three books, and everything that happens in acowar it was clear to me that elain and azriel were being set up as each others love interests, despite the mating bond with l*cien.

After Acofas I was officially on the elriel train. I mean…

“Azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered into the garden below.”

“Azriel emerged from the sitting room, a glass of wine in hand and wings tucked back to reveal his fine, yet simple black jacket and pants. I felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. Her throat bobbed.”

“But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, ‘Sit. I’ll take care of it.’ Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them. With a blink, she lowered them, and noticed her apron. ‘I—I’ll be right back,’ she murmured, and hurried down the hall before I could explain that no one cared if she showed up to dinner covered in flour and that she should just sit.”

“Elain swept in, apron gone and hair rebraided. ‘Please don’t wait on my account,’ she said, taking the seat at the head of the table.”

“He [Azriel] was the portrait of relaxed, an arm braced against the carved mantel, his wings tucked in loosely, a faint grin on his face and a glass of wine in his hand. He slid his hazel eyes toward my sister without him moving an inch.”

“Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea.”

(Damn the more I read elriel’s acofas moments the more I can’t help but conclude that they just hate/don’t understand introverts 😭)

Before I started SF, I decided to look at the online fandom and bitch……my jaw hit the floor with all the elain/elriel hate I saw on TT. And everyone was talking about a newer character in SF, and I was seeing the glee fan art and was like oh shit ok maybe elriel isn’t endgame.

Fast forward to SF……

‘What happened to Elain?’

“Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike. Elain’s eyes brightened with pain.”

……and I’m thinking ok, az obviously likes her. Then comes az’s BC. When I finished the elriel portion of the BC I was actually crying bc I was like oh fuck I really love these two….I knew it was over for me, and I was freaked out bc I thought I was going to get got with this “new ship” involving az. Plus I was thinking about elain being left alone in the dark without any explanation and feeling like an idiot for finally showing her true feelings towards him😭. It was like 3AM when I read it so I was hyper emotional lol. But then I read the rest of the BC and was still confused because I didn’t see any romantic subtext with g/wyn. I read it and saw a hurt male who couldn’t stand what he had done to elain the night before, was pissed at his brother for stopping it and making him feel bad when he was finally willing to voice what he’s been feeling for the past year or so and hating that he was shut down because we know he never voices his emotions, and couldn’t bear keeping a gift he picked out specifically for her. A necklace…..for solstice……Then I finished SF as a whole, and still, was confused as to why glee is a ship. Nearly all of their conversations were centered around training, and Sarah didn’t use any descriptors in their encounters that elude to any romance or mutual interest. (Btw I have a whole take on rhys’ part in that BC and I think a lot of ppl are dense and don’t understand what he was going through in that book but I can save that for another time)

Cassian and Feyre have more chemistry than those too lol.

I then talked to my friend about the these ships (elriel, eluce, and glee) ((i didn’t talk about eluce much in this post but that’s a lifeless ship too. I mean…..she can’t stand that red head anyway soooo)), and I said “I’m an elriel through and through. Idc that eluce are claimed to be mates you can tell she does not like him. also glee makes no sense to me.” Not verbatim but you get the point. My friend is very sensible so by the end of our convo, she told me that she’ll accept whatever way Sarah goes and that she’ll give elain a chance when her book comes out.

But isn’t that what all of this shit is about in the end: unjustified dislike/distain/hate for elain? That’s certainly how is appears to me. You cannot look me in the eyes and tell me that you love elain if you ship her with a male whom she has expressed, on multiple occasions, zero interest in AND becomes a shell of herself when he’s around because she just doesn’t want to interact with him. (I want to reiterate that I don’t hate L, I don’t think he’s awful or anything. elain just doesn’t want to know him. And that’s her right.) The glees don’t like her bc she doesn’t fit their stereotype for what they want in an FMC and therefore, for azriel. Which is why they have been chirping that the next book will be azriel’s. Not elain’s….WHAT??? You sound fucking crazy. The eluces (even though they claim they like her) dislike her so much that they go on and on about how she needs to grovel and apologize to the male they like because HE deserves to be happy……the same male who she associates with one of the most traumatic days of her life. Who also has not apologized to her for the part he played in that day, but I digress.

I say all that to point out that Glee specifically is in the crack ship category. No canonical evidence in the text can be used to claim they are ‘mates’ or endgame or anything more than acquaintances. And that’s fine, but don’t act as though they’re to be taken seriously as a canon ship when there’s no evidence to support it. Don’t boldly claim that azriel “has two love interests” when he literally doesn’t. He can’t sleep because of elain. He can’t stop thinking about her. He’s short with his family and others around him the days and weeks following solstice. His shadows threaten to strike nesta when she hurts elain and causes her pain. He doesn’t assign his spies to watch L*cien in acofas because he doesn’t want to know if he’s trying to court elain. He goes full lethal when he hears she may have been hurt. He follows the sound of her laugh to see what caused it. He goes on a suicide mission to save her. They communicate through looks alone when their family is around. Have you read an SJM book before? This is how she sets up her relationships. Like, holy fuck.

You cannot claim elriel is a crack ship because they have had background build up that both FMCs in their respective books have noticed and commented on. Cassian has noticed it too DESPITE not being hyper aware of what’s going on with az in SF. (referencing the scene in SF where elain tells everyone at family dinner about nesta’s love for dancing and the ball story from when they were human).

This ship war shit is fucking crazy because really this should only be between elriel nation and the eluces. Anyway, I’m over dealing with the fever dream brigade and their hallucinations. They’re going to come crashing down like Icarus when the elriel bible release day arrives and all our suffering will finally come to an end.

Then after that I’ll need to defeat the tamlin redemption arch threats, bc that is not a claim, that’s a fuckin threat and I won’t stand for it. But let’s tackle one problem at a time.

Pink: side notes/thoughts that give more context to my points

Blue italics: convos I’ve had being referenced

Purple: elriel moments <3

[skele-bunny]

hello !! i tried to send a request on my fic blog but it wouldn’t let me LOL

ANYWAYS, i read ur Phantom angst w his past and starting from square 1 again and it was so heart breaking, as someone who’s had setbacks like that - i just love how you wrote everyone in that fic so much

i was wondering, and you can totally ignore this if it’s stupid, if you could write about Phantom finally coming out of that and getting better ? i’m a sucker for hurt comfort and wanna see Phantom happy and comfortable with his pack again :)

have a wonderful day/night !! 🦇

Fore sure!

You Came Back To Us. (CW) Phantom/Everyone

CW - Implications of past abuse, sa (but this is a fluff fic!)

Characters: Aether, Dewdrop, Phantom

Divider by @ wrathofrats

The quiet sound of talking bustled in the kitchen and dining room, the pack in their daily routine of getting things started. Mountain stayed at the helm directing Rain and Cirrus for what he needed to cook, Swiss helping to plate each item that was finished, Aether double checking each eating restriction and preference was correct, Dew starting the fixing of the table while just as equally quiet making sure the others made their beds and got the common room cleaned.

It was important to them that they kept their routine, not only setting the pace for that day but feeding ten ghouls was insanity and could quickly become exhausting if not separated equally. Usually, there'd be music playing and humming—but not as of recent. Their little bat who they purposely excluded from working in the mornings to sleep in was still too startled at loud noises.

It had been exactly two months since the 'reign of terror' Aurora called it, Phantom coming face-to-face with his tormentor for the last time. While it had a happy ending, the epilogue didn't. Countless nightmares, regression back to an old headspace, and just an empty look that showed of not only suffering but exhaustion. Phantom had given up completely, relying on his pack to take care of them since they no longer had the desire for anything—even living.

Of course they'd take care of him, they were their mate, their little bug they adored more than anything in this world. When Phantom first became Topside, it was always rocky for a good while, unsure how to approach this scared ghoul that cried and backed away if you dared to get near. Dew knew he didn't make it any better, but they had moved past that. It took so long for their bat to come around, showing their smile and personality, even making friendships with eventual relationships. The pack had worked so hard to influence it, once again with taking care of him.

Just because Phantom lost his progress, didn't mean they'd stop trying again. It was just a set back that with time and patience would be alright again. They'd all been there in some form of way with their own issues and addictions. So, it was important to continue on, show Phantom some normality of routine like before the reign; so that's what they did.

Sunshine had finished first, helping Aether grab each plate and set them down at respective seats. Her smile was contagious, joking under whispers which always got Aether to grab his chest as he laughed, fangs curling past his lips with joy. Aether grabbed a plate that held the design of 'Scream' and a small tumbler with 'Dracula', rolling his eyes at another terrible joke Sunshine made before he walked to a specific door. He used his foot to knock before adjusting the items and letting himself in.

Curled in the corner of his bed, Phantom stayed under the covers but his eyes open to follow Aether's movements. "Good morning cutie!" He had whispered to his successor.

Phantom stayed silent, chewing on his finger but eyes never once leaving Aether as he sat down the items and picked up the barely touched remains of dinner from last night and placed them in a container to the side.

"For your wonderfulness, you have a chicken biscuit with a jelly doughnut. Honestly, bug, I'm jealous of what you got!" Aether teased, sending a wink to the smaller quintessence. "Gonna have to tell our tree out there to make me one too."

The elder showed his palms before getting closer to Phantom, lightly running his magick through his frame, closing his eyes as he searched and felt around. "Your fever dropped, that's good... You hurting anywhere?"

He could feel Phantom rustle, shaking his head no in response. "Good, good."

As he went to move away, Phantom's hand quickly darted out to grab Aether's wrist, the two holding eye contact. "Yes, bug? What's the matter?"

It was silence, Phantom slowly closing his eyes again but his grip on Aether never faltered which made the older quint move to his knees on the floor, letting Phantom do whatever he needed to. He sent a smell of comforting pheromones and his purrs began, equally making Phantom purr in response. It was another minute before Aether felt his ear twitch, their mental link slowly connecting.

"I want a bath..."

"Okay, we can do a bath. Do you want me to get Swiss or Rory?" Aether simply hummed, not denying the smile that came over his face.

Phantom shook again subconsciously. "No, you."

So, with gentle hands, Aether peeled back the multitude of blankets that swallowed Phantom whole and gently went under his knees and back to lift them. Their head butted against his chest, claws slowly kneading on his shirt. They moved to the bathroom where he was carefully stripped, watching the tub get filled with bubbles. Their baby bat held deeper eye bags and his frame much smaller than they'd like, but he was alive. He leaned forwards against Aether who at first took his affection as a response to trauma, trying to move but that idea was replaced as Phantom kept purring and his hands went back to kneading.

Aether was positive Phantom fell asleep in the tub at least twice, once when his nails carefully raked through the different colored strands on Phantom's head, a second once his wash rag started moving in gentle circles. Aether kept whispering where he was moving even if Phantom was lost in their slumber to even hear it, the retired ghoul adjusting to get his lower half and underside so Phantom didn't have to move. He felt terrible waking the poor thing up to get dried off and in a new pair of clothes, heading back to his bed.

"There we go! One clean bat with yummy food waiting for his tummy, how about that!" Aether cooed, carefully laying him back down. A kiss was placed to Phantom's forehead, his purrs never stopping. "Do what you can today, alright? I may have also sneaked you chocolate milk instead of water this morning."

"Thank you."

Body language couldn't lie as the moment Phantom spoke, Aether's tail wagged like no other. He simply smiled with one more kiss before heading out, inhaling sharply and rubbing his misty eyes. The others were waiting patiently for Aether, looking at him with heightened curiosity.

"Sorry, tommy wanted a bath and... He spoke to me." Aether smiled wide again, watching his packs faces light up in return.

The sound of purrs and little chirps began to fill the room, Aether catching the sight of a few of their tails wagging just as much as his. He sat down next to Dewdrop, with once last glance towards the door, before bowing his head as it was Swiss' turn to lead them in prayer. With the pack joining together for a 'nema', only a single fork was picked up before the sound of a door opened.

Heads instantly turned with bodies, smiles returning as Phantom stood in his doorway with his plate and tumbler in hold. He eyed Aether who got the hint and walked over, crouching down to the bat's height and listening to their link. There was a moment of silence before Aether nodded and lifted Phantom with a carefulness as he held his items tightly. The pack assumed them to be returning back to the room, Phantom getting too overwhelmed—but to their surprise, Aether walked towards them. There was a quick rearrangement of Phantom's chair going between his and the pack leader's, Dew taking his items and welcoming him down.

"Hi there, itty bitty." Dew teased, offering his hand which Phantom took. "I'm happy to see your face."

Phantom's ear twitched before his own tiny smile joined, laying his head on Dew's chest. Dew opted out of breakfast to continue being a pillow for his mate, their tails interlinked but slowly helping Phantom sip his drink and even nibble the top part of his biscuit.

Dewdrop cocked his head as he noticed the straw being darker than normal. "Is this water?"

He eyed Aether who simply looked away. "Oh you're terrible!" He teased.

A giggle.

A giggle sounded and Dew looked down at Phantom, his cheeks a light purple and eyes scrunched as he smiled.

"Is that funny to you?" Dew questioned light-heartedly, scoffing as Phantom nodded with another laugh. "Oh you naughty bat, I can't believe you and Aether would conspire against me."

Swiss perked up, pointing his bacon at Dew while covering his mouth as he talked with food in. "Ohh, let the kid be! If I had to drink bathwater every day, I'd go crazy too!"

"Swiss, I'm positive if one of us offered our bathwater we just bathed in for you, you'd drink it like a dying man." Mountain snapped back, causing eruptions of laughter at the table, even Dew couldn't help himself.

"You guys are terrible to me!"

The fire ghoul warmed himself just a bit as he felt Phantom adjust closer, completely laying his body weight against Dew—closing his eyes and starting to knead once more. After the fact, they knew they'd retire Phantom back to his bed from using the bare energy they had, but for now, they enjoyed their tired company as Dew gently rubbed his back.

There was an unspoken agreement to continue talking at a lower tone, letting Phantom peacefully sleep for once but trying to continue their routine. Their bug twitched some before sighing in his sleep, hands gripping Dew's shirt so tightly while they let out a small trill. Dew moved his hand from Phantom's back to the dip behind his ear, slowly rubbing and watching as Phantom's shoulders released again and his purrs kicked up again.

It had been so long since the table was full and the last time anyone heard his mewl-purrs. Oh, how they all missed it so much. Dewdrop couldn't help himself as he gave Phantom's body a light squeeze, his own eyes becoming misty as he held his bat in his arms again like he had prayed and craved for.

Their collective wish had been granted.

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XXIX. “uncanny valley”

parts: previous / next

plot: you and Bruce dance around the horrors of the weekend, desperate to make things right—or, at least, better.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, angst, mental health issues, descriptions of violence, descriptions of injury, grief, anxiety

words: 6.1k

prev. chapter summary (XXVIII): You go to Wayne Tower on Saturday night to talk to Alfred about ways to get Bruce help. Alfred is hopeless. Bruce intercepts, bitter at your intrusiveness, and storms off. You call Dr. Crane, who tells you to refrain from following him for fear of escalating the argument. On your walk home, you run into a panicked, horrified Bruce in an abandoned alley near his house. He does not recognize you, and after calling Alfred for him to be picked up, Bruce begs Alfred not to tell his parents about him being out so late. After a brief heartfelt (and teary) conversation with Alfred, where he expressed thanks and reassured you were not making things worse (as you thought, and still think), you went home. The next day, Bruce has no recollection of the night before, brought up to speed by Alfred. At Alfred’s urging, Bruce visits your apartment on Sunday, begging you to see his side. The argument becomes heated, and, convinced by Dr. Crane’s horrifying prognosis for Bruce and his own erratic, dangerous behavior, you do a last hail-mary to get him help: you lie about being the person who saw Bruce jump, expressing how terrified you were at thinking you’d watched him die. This immediately triggers Bruce to his childhood, and he does a hard reset on his denial, horrified he’s repeating the cycle, reassuring you he will accept help.

Outside of receiving some calls, you hadn't checked your phone since Thursday night. Texts, socials, it had all been abandoned trying to remove the noose snaking Bruce's neck. After the phone call with Alfred you were able to relax into bed and pull out your phone—immediately smacked by a bazillion texts from Mar, a few from your parents, and some mentions on Scypher. You clicked on Mar's texts first.

Thursday, 11:50pm: OMGGG just now seeing thissss i got so lit tonight. sorry!! idk if i can make it to help you move. def can't drive in the morning tho!!! ttys!!!

Friday, 1:20am: ok lolz i went to a second club 2nite and yahhh i don't think i can make it 2morrowww

Friday, 12:30pm: if ur still in town i could help, i just got a massive headache hahaha have you left yet

Friday, 1:22pm: ur prob on the road byeee

Friday, 1:30pm: wait ur still in Gotham??

Today, 12:58pm: BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!! you didn't tell me you did the interview with him!! like actually!!!!!!! okayyyy too famous to respond to me I see? i'll make sure to visit to get your autograph lol.

Today, 2:15pm: bro i got so many more friend requests already today???? some are Bruce Wayne fan accounts. wtf!!!??? this is like blowing up

Today, 6:15pm: MISSED CALL FROM MAR.

Today, 6:16pm: MISSED CALL FROM MAR.

Today, 6:18pm: LOOK !!!!

She'd attached a Buzzfeed article titled: Bruce Wayne's First Interview Came Out Today, and Our Jaws (and Clothes) are on the Floor

You couldn't read any further though, seeing as you had a handful of texts from your parents to sort through.

Friday, 1:45pm: Hey hunny! Your mother and I are home from the second shot. She told me to text you 'I am fine'. We will call you this evening after I finish up the deck.

Friday, 6:37pm: MISSED CALL FROM DAD.

Friday, 6:40pm: Deck done. When you visit next I'll show you. Walter likes it. Love you

Today, 3:13pm: MISSED CALL FROM MOM.

Today, 3:20pm: Hi kiddo. Wow! Congratulations on the article! Debbie showed it to us when she visited earlier. I thought you said you were done with that guy. Love you sweety!

You responded to your dad about your mom, and your mom about the article. You refused to comment on her mention of Bruce, wanting to purge your mind as much as you were able to after the weekend you'd had. You resigned to calling her first thing in the morning, miserable over forgetting about her second shot. After responding to Mar to update her on staying (and to express faux excitement about the article's release), you stayed up a few more minutes to see if your parents might still be awake and responsive. Sleep.

You woke up late that day, around two in the afternoon; the only reason you hadn't slept even longer was a phone call from Dr. Vry startling you awake. "Y/N! Have you seen your article? I can't believe it. Over a hundred applications just TODAY to the journalism program!"

You fought your way through the conversation, the gears in your head finally harnessing enough energy to start worrying again. The call ended quickly, as she 'had a lot of applications to get through', and you called your mom without a second glance at your phone notifications.

"Hey sweetie. I saw your text last night, but I couldn't respond. Walter was finally curled up in my lap, you know how sensitive he is." She sounded fine, neither ecstatic nor miserable. Her energy picked up when she started talking about your article. "Your dad was looking into that Wayne guy, and ran across that article of yours. He didn't know it was you that wrote it until Debbie brought it over!"

You'd padded out to your kitchen to make some toast with the butt of the bread. "Since when is dad researching things about Gotham?"

"He's been very intrigued ever since graduation. He—"

Your dad sounded off in the background. "Hun? Hey! I saw that article of yours! His first interview ever. That's a big family, you know. The Waynes. It's a big deal sweetie!"

He continued without leaving space for you to change the topic. "You know about his parents, right? God, poor kid. Seems to have recovered from it well enough."

You stifled a laugh at him delivering the most famous lore of Gotham city like it was breaking news. "Yeah, I know about his parents."

"You know, I knew I sensed something between you two. When's he coming to visit?" You heard a meow in the background, and you could only imagine your dad was munching on some sandwich he desperately wanted.

"Dad,"

"People don't give their first interviews to just anyone. Must've really impressed him."

"He's never coming over, dad."

"You don't have to be embarrassed honey. He seems like a stand-up guy! Next visit, bring him."

"It sounds like you want to meet him." You rubbed your temples, having temporarily abandoned your peanut butter spreading. You didn't know if you were right, but you could've sworn you heard him shaking his head. Walter meowed again. He definitely had some sort of food in his hand.

"What kind of dad would I be if I weren't excited to meet my daughter's boyfriend?"

The juxtaposition of the past few days to his chipper, nonchalant demeanor was stark, reducing you to a teary mess. No, you wanted to snap at him. I actually visited him in a psych ward. Had to stop his future from becoming a funeral.

"Hey, whoa now..." Your mom spoke in a hushed, frustrated tone in the background. "I'm sorry sweetie. I get it. I won't talk about him anymore."

You continued to cry, unable to get any words out. It was like you were finally able to feel the weight of what had been placed on you, feel the piercing stab of the fear it instilled. Your sobs were so pathetic and deep that your mom kept asking if you could breathe. It took much longer than you were comfortable with to even begin steadying, and when you did you knew it wouldn't last. You told them you had to get back to work, and that you'd see them in two weeks.

Vanity Fair. Vogue. People. Cosmopolitan. Us Weekly. Elle. Glamour. Seventeen. Marie Claire. Your eyes had fuzzed over as anxiety nestled into your gut. So this had been... this had been huge. 600 followers had turned into 13,000, and that was just on Scypher. Instagram had 300, now 6,500. So many mentions, so many comments, you started to panic even more. You tossed the phone across the bed and wrapped your arms around your body, rocking slowly back and forth, squeezing your arms so hard they began to ache. Flashbacks to Saturday night pulsed between your eardrums, projected on the back wall of your mind. You'd never seen someone so out of their element before. The image of him in the fetal position on the ground. The screaming. The nearly incomprehensible rattle in his voice. The stitches that bulged, the skin sloughed off his fingers. The blood. The sweat. The panic. Dread. Fear. Hysteria.

Your hands shook just the same as they fought to text Alfred. Your fingers garbled the message, but you couldn't handle another second without knowing if he was alive or dead. What if he'd taken the whole fucking bottle? What if he was on the floor of his bedroom, the last dregs of his functioning body procuring foamy spit out of his mouth for him to choke on? What if he flung himself off another building? His house was so fucking tall. So empty. So huge. So many places he wouldn't be seen, he wouldn't be found, so many places someone could hide if they needed, or wanted. What if he was strung up by his neck on a ceiling bar?

You shrieked in pain as waves of fear ravaged you. If it were real water you'd be swept under, and you wouldn't even fight it. The water would take away all your troubles, your worries, your fears. But he couldn't know that. They couldn't know what this was doing to you.

You set the phone down.

If he knew, he'd feel guilty. He couldn't feel guilty. Guilt would hurt him more. Guilt could push him over the edge.

Instead, you dialed Dr. Crane. He answered on the second ring, always so quick. "Y/N. I was about to call you. Before we get into it, why did you call?"

Anxiety lurched up into your chest, eager to overwhelm and incapacitate. "Get into what?"

Dr. Crane laughed, a discordant sound that chilled you. "To thank you. Whatever you did, it was successful. This is strictly confidential, but he is accepting treatment."

So he's alive? "I wanted to talk to you about that." You swallowed hard, yanking at a loose thread in your comforter. "I uh, he wasn't going to get help until I, until I lied."

"About what?" Dr. Crane's composure was always strictly maintained, and this time was no different. He never gave away his feelings. "I had to tell him I was the witness. I said I saw him jump."

"Oh."

That was quite possibly the worst thing he could've said.

"Well, that changes things."

"What things?"

"For one, that's a secret you must keep. Glad you clued me in." You heard a rustling of papers, a hushing of his tone. "Usually that would be unacceptable, but if we're both being honest," His candor was unsettling. "I have yet to see someone as deeply in denial as him accept treatment. I went to sleep fully anticipating waking to news of his passing." His tone was suddenly lighter, almost singsongy. "I can't say I'm disappointed in you."

You had no concept of how to respond to that. Guilt ulcerated your stomach and strangled your chest, but at least Bruce was breathing. After a silence that was too long, long enough you were surprised he hadn't yet hung up, you spoke. "Are we, are you, sure?" Words were having trouble finding you. "About the lying? I didn't see it, and what if the real witness,”

"There is nothing to be concerned about regarding the witness. Mr. Wayne has begun treatment, and will soon be stable. Incredible work."

"I—"

"You saved Bruce Wayne’s life, Y/N. It's only a shame it's a badge you can’t share." You could hear the smile in his tone, but you weren't happy. The reassurance you’d been seeking was far from assuring, leaving you situated in an uncanny valley of suspicion. How could he be so joyful? Why wasn't he drilling you about going to such lengths? Had it… had it really been that fucking hopeless? Anger boiled in you at the prospect of Dr. Crane knowingly sending you on a suicide mission. Before you burnt the bridge, you thanked him for the update and hung up. It took everything in you not to throw the phone against the wall.

The shower was scalding. You barely felt it. He must have thought he wouldn't make it. He seemed so fucking resolved to Bruce's death. Fully anticipating waking up to news of his passing? But there was 'nothing he could do'? Not a word of tangible advice besides 'don't go after him'. If I listened to him, who knows who would have found him out there! Would he have attempted again? You also wrestled with the uncomfortable reality that Dr. Crane had been correct; you had played a vital role in him accepting treatment. Had Dr. Crane psychoanalyzed you, deemed you the sort of person to lie if needed? Someone he could push to do things outside of personal liability? A sort of reverse hitman?

As you toweled off, your anxious mind continued its rumination. So he took meds. But did he take just one? Alfred will watch him, right? Hold onto his meds, only give him them as needed? Is he employing a system, making sure he checks under Bruce's tongue, locks the bathrooms, listens for retching, making sure the medication is accurately and genuinely consumed, as prescribed? You needed a break, but you couldn't find one. Sitting on the edge of your bed you knew you wouldn't be able to rest until you knew he was alive right now. And the next day. And the next day. And the next. A boulder jammed down your shoulders knowing you wouldn't be satisfied unless he personally slept on your couch so you could monitor him like a newborn. His attempt and general discontent were affecting you far more than you'd initially internalized.

Bruce sat in Alfred's study by the fireplace, staring out the window towards the grounds. Over breakfast with Alfred he took the first dose of the medication, and only a few hours later he swore he could feel the effects. He'd done some quick googling on olanzapine, and it appeared he was having a placebo effect. At minimum he'd feel effects in a few days, more likely after a week or two. He had to stop researching after that, too freaked out about having to be on antipsychotics, too much still in disbelief about how he'd done something so drastic yet had no memory of it. Alfred convinced him to stay 'home' from Batman for the rest of the week, which was an unusually easy feat considering how he hadn't taken a voluntary night off since beginning the project years ago. It broke him how upset you'd been, and he knew he wouldn't be able to see Alfred cry again. That was unbearable.

He didn't have much to do; he quickly realized he had been living only for the night. There really wasn't anything to do in the tower; no games (outside of a dusty chess board in Alfred's study), one old television (also in Alfred's study, off to an adjacent corner), no gym (he overextended himself enough as Batman), and the house was generally kempt from Dory's attentive cleaning in a house that didn't need more than dusting anyway.

Alfred told him to skip the meeting this week; Bruce initially hadn’t cared much either way, but realized that wasn't an option after misery frayed his nerves with just half a day of sitting around. In order to go in public, he needed to not be scarred and scabbed to hell; he wanted to walk the grounds, but worried about doing it in the daytime in the state he was in. Your article’s release had also prompted a patch of reporters to hang around his house, increasing his surveillance. Give an inch, they’ll take a mile. He and Alfred briefly discussed the contingency plan they kept at the ready: staged police photos of a nasty car crash on the edge of the grounds, but he couldn't share them yet—he wanted to leave you as much time as possible to soak up the success of the interview. You deserved that much, you deserved more after what he'd put you through. At least once an hour he thought about calling you, and he very nearly did a few times. He worried about you. Were you safe? Did you need anything?

On some level, he theorized focusing so much on you was a coping mechanism to escape his failing mental capacity. The more he focused on you, the less real estate his panic had. Last night had been miserable. He'd stayed awake staring at the ceiling, his mind swirling with shock and fear. He’d wondered if this is what his mom had endured, but he didn’t have the mental fortitude yet to go digging through Arkham Asylum records. He didn’t know if he ever would again, so he simply sat. Watched the clouds move along the skyline. Watched the shrubs sway in the backyard. Followed the occasional crow floating past the windows.

As soon as darkness fell he couldn't contain himself any longer. The nagging feeling of someone he traumatized being alone in it was too much. He grabbed a hoodie and walked to the elevator, sure he could make a free escape through the old subway route. His hand hesitated before pressing the button. What if you didn't want him to visit? What if it was too stressful? He couldn't keep coming over unannounced, it was weird. Not normal. Alfred had heard the metal rustling and walked into the kitchen. His brow furrowed. "I thought you were taking a break from him?"

"I am." He stared at the ground, lost in thought. "Would you call her?"

"Miss Y/N?" Alfred's voice was soft, concerned. "Sure, why?"

Bruce had conveniently kept to himself that you'd been the one to watch him jump. That you were the witness, that you'd called 911. "I want to give her an update."

Alfred pulled out his phone and Bruce walked closer, bridging the gap between them. "Ask if I could talk to her." He didn't blink until you picked up, hiding a wince at how you'd done so before the end of the first ring. You were scared. Desperate.

"Miss Y/N, I hope this isn't a bad time." Alfred paused with the phone to his ear, his expression faltering before he let out a small chuckle. It was hollow. "No, he's alright. He wanted to see if he could speak to you now."

He handed the phone to Bruce, who quickly scurried up the stairs and into his room. He only put the phone to his ear once the door was closed behind him. "Y/N?"

"Bruce." It was so nice to hear your voice when it wasn't panicked. You sounded a bit tired, breathy, but miles better than yesterday. A sigh of relief heaved out of him, to which you had a reflexive response. "Are you okay?" Your voice rose, both in volume and octave.

"Yes. Are you okay?"

"I really don't think it matters,"

He bit back a part of him that wanted to say you were the only thing that mattered. He'd broken you. "Are you?"

You sighed. "Yes. Did you uh,"

"I got the meds."

"Good. Did you take them? Or, one, or, whatever the dose,"

"Yeah." He could hear how clouded your mind was, and it was excruciating being so limited to the phone. He remembered the first week after the murder. His mind had been a hazy minefield, everything running on autopilot. The tears, his limbs, his voice, nothing had been a conscious decision for weeks. Sure, he hadn't died, but you'd thought he had. If… his parents had survived, he figured he would've been in a similar state regardless. He wanted to help you, but he didn't know how.

"How long does it take the medication to work?"

"A few days. Maybe a few weeks." After his parents died, everyone brought him food. Random strangers had brought flowers, and food, and even stuffed toys for him to cuddle with. He'd only kept one, a stuffed dinosaur, now tucked into the back of his linen closet. Alfred checked on him constantly. No longer did he have to do his chores; Dory and Alfred picked up the slack. No longer did he have to deal with hearing his mom demand he eat his veggies and sides before getting another helping of soup, he only had soup. And juice, and soda, and warm blankets fresh out of the dryer. He remembered the warmth. Of the blanket, the soup. Those, paired with the scraggly dino in his arms, were the only things that made a decimal of impact on his devastation. "Do you need anything?"

"No. Do you?"

"Do you want anything?"

"I'm good. What about you?"

He didn't believe it. You were trying to spare him, just like you had by making yourself anonymous. Would it be wrong of him to come over? This late in the evening... probably. But he remembered the nights were the worst part. Alone in the empty darkness. Less cars, less lights, even the reruns on tv were stale at that time. It left no room for distraction. And honestly, he worried if he didn't distract you from your pain, he'd be gridlocked by his.

"Can I stop by?"

Onion, celery, carrots, butter, flour, curry powder, chicken broth, an apple, rice, chicken breast, thyme, and heavy cream. He didn't know how to make much, and Alfred didn't keep much variety around, but you hadn't balked at mulligatawny the first night you'd stayed here, and it was one of the few things he knew how to make without a recipe. It was also one of the few things the old man always kept fresh and stocked, especially now that Bruce was in recovery mode. Most importantly, it was warm. It was only nine, he could get this done before ten, and be gone before midnight. Just in time for you to get tired and go to sleep, without hours spent tossing and turning alone in bed. It was the least he could do for you.

He'd never felt more ridiculous than he did when he opened your door. The backpack was heavy and a reminder that he hadn't asked if he could cook, but assumed he would waltz into your kitchen and work some magic. You invited him in and he went straight to the island, setting down his pack and taking out the supplies. Your face scrunched with confusion. "What are you doing?"

He kept taking out food while he thought of how to phrase it. It was like his mind was slowed down, your apartment a pool of tv static. "I wanted to cook." Pause. "For you." Another pause, and he took out the apple. "It's warm." Fuck, could he have explained it any worse?

He paused and you watched him slowly move to meet your eyes. "Can I?" His hand was hovering above one of the drawers, ready to get to work. "Sure." You didn't understand why he couldn't cook at his house, but you couldn’t complain; still coming down from the nauseating blend of relief and guilt that gnawed at you when you finally saw him in the flesh. Like being attacked by a wave on a hot day; soothing, but bitterly cold at the same time.

You had reassembled the chairs today, and the table. You'd anticipated calling Mar later tonight if she weren’t already at a club, offering to order some takeout and have a movie night. When thinking up a distraction, you certainly hadn't anticipated Chef Bruce appearing with fixings for a mystery meal. Did billionaires even know how to cook? Did billionaire Bruce Wayne ever have to fend for himself in the kitchen? A brief image of him staring confusedly at a box of cereal made your mouth twitch into a grin.

Good. Your humor was still there, thank god. With his back turned to you, facing the burner, you could finally, finally, finally, finally unclench your jaw and drop your shoulders. He was here. It was weird, and uncomfortable, but undeniable. He was here, not hanging from a rafter or god knows where doing god knows what in the city. He was putting butter in a pan, and grabbing a wooden spoon. He was alive.

But... this was still out of character, which raised an orange flag. You waited for him to reach an impasse before speaking, tapping his fingers on the countertop while he watched the rice cook. An apple sat cubed to the left, the chicken sizzling on the back burner. "How are you? Really?"

Bruce needed to toe the line. Too honest and it would shift the focus to him, further distressing you; too dishonest and you'd dismiss it before he finished speaking. His body didn't just ache, it screamed at him. Every step, even every time he spoke, felt like torture. He'd teared up at multiple points between the lobby and your unit. His spirit was entirely crushed, shattered into irredeemable smithereens. He hung his head and let all the air out of his lungs, letting his weight fall into his wrists as he leaned over the stove. "Not great."

It should've pained you to hear that, instead it felt like wind in your sails. He was being honest. You could work with that. Honesty didn't need to be interrogated or sleuthed upon. "How can I help?"

He wanted to say you've done enough and don't want your pity, but it felt too real. You didn't need that tonight, not so close to the event. "Taste the soup and tell me if it needs anything." He prayed you wouldn’t keep asking.

"How would I know?"

"I want it to suit your taste."

"I don't know what it's supposed to taste like." You were hyperaware he hadn't answered you, not in the way you wanted. Maybe it was too close for comfort right now. Maybe all you needed to do was focus on him being here, and ask questions later.

"Pepper, curry flavor. Creamy." He stirred something fragrant on the stovetop.

"What's the apple doing?"

"It's necessary." It felt good talking about something else with you. Something normal. Not Batman, not his legacy, not the attempt. Still, all of it clouded and constricted the conversation, a constant tension you both wittingly ignored. "Smooths the spice."

I barely tasted it that night. Too scary being trapped in the house of one of the most powerful men in the world. You watched as he stirred, chopped, and fluffed. You were brought back home with your parents, watching them make dinner while you sat at the dining table and talked at them. He glanced around and looked at the can of heavy cream. In an instant you were up and grabbing a can opener, desperate to do your part. He instructed you to pour it into the pan, and for a half second he was just another guy; an acquaintance, someone passing through; someone regular, unassuming.

After a few more minutes of sitting around, you grabbed some bowls and spoons. After a quick taste he required you take ("Need to know if I missed something"), he ladled the bowls full, and you both walked slowly, carefully over to the table to set down the steaming soup. Bruce dug in without waiting, while you blowed on a single spoonful until every bit of steam hesitated to rise from it.

He watched you apprehensively. Your eyes widened a bit, and he could see your jaw moving like you were savoring it. "How is it?" It tasted fairly similar to how Alfred made it, which was fairly similar to how his mom had made it. At the very least he hadn't royally fucked up. Who knows, maybe olanzapine changes tastebuds.

You nodded, blowing on another bite. "Mulling it over."

God, that was so droll... it tugged a whispering grin to his lips, his bite slipping back into the bowl at the gentle movement of his dry chuckle.

He was laughing. Not really. Kind of. Weird, but yay! "I've never tasted anything like it. It's good."

"Don't have to placate me."

"It's peppery. Curry. Creamy."

He rolled his eyes and tossed another spoonful into his mouth. "Creative. What's the apple for?"

The tension never left, though you both did your best to selfishly soothe it through dry humor. The most either of you did was grin, breathe a little extra air through your nose. When he wasn't looking your eyes wandered to his purple and green bruises, and the complementary crusting scabs along his neck and hands. You wondered if he was suicidal right now, but wasn't saying anything. When you weren't looking, he studied your body language, hoping it would betray you. Were you scared right now? Did you think this was the weirdest thing ever, like he did? Did you think this was creepy? Was it creepy? Was it helping? Was he helping you?

You both finished and walked your bowls to the sink. He started rinsing them and reached for the dish soap, and you let him for a little. After he pat dry the first bowl, you couldn't sit with this worry on your chest any longer. The food had been warm and energizing, the mood made less intimidating with the joking, and all of it together held your hand as you broached the topic. It made you sick how concerned he was about your wellbeing; yes, he scared you, images of his frenzied, panicked face waking you up in the dead of night, but you hadn't watched him nearly die like he thought. His worry felt like rain on a hundred degree day: unsettling and unwelcome. You inhaled fully, hoping enough oxygen would get to some brave neurons and force the words past your teeth. They caught in your chest and by then he'd finished the second bowl; anxiety palpated your heart, bullying it into silence. You overrode it. "Bruce."

At once he abandoned the silverware and turned toward you. His analytical gaze peppered your face and the fingers that annihilated your cuticles. The stench of something burning singed your nostrils, your eyes tracking the source to the hem of his sweatshirt draped over the hot stove, smoking as small flames burnt through the cotton. Perhaps waiting to be seen, it erupted into a blazing ball of flame. You yelped and jumped toward the sink, grabbing the adjustable faucet and spraying him down. The flames went out, he turned off the burner, and you looked around for some magazines or papers to fan away the tendrils of smoke wafting toward the fire alarm.

"Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

You glanced back and saw Bruce sopping wet, his hair having gotten in the mix too, draped over his eyes; the singed, ripped edges of his shirt that he clutched between his hands. You bit your lip to reign in your laugh. He started hurrying the shirt off his back, and gently shook it out to see if it had juice left in it. That was the kicker, sending you bolting toward your bedroom. You couldn't be laughing at him all the time. Get it together! He's hurting! But the laughs escaped your tight-lipped prison, and soon his shadow was in the doorway. As quickly as you'd laughed, you began to cry. You dropped to your knees at the whiplash; what once was dead, was now making soup in your apartment. Dancing around it wasn't helping, it was exacerbating the pain. He didn't hesitate to walk over, his long legs getting him across the room in only a few strides.

He didn't think you were crying about the fire. He stood helplessly beside you, unable to make a decision on what to do next. Guilt bloomed angry, self-flagellating thoughts, wishing he hadn't ran with his ego and coddled his denial. He placed a light touch to your shoulder and you jumped up. "I'm fine." He didn't say anything, only sat and watched as you struggled to reign in your barrage of tears. Your fingers threatened to go numb, and you attempted to shake the tingles away. "My body just needs to cry and then, then I'm done." You turned away from him and pressed your clammy palms to your cheeks, trying to physically shove the tears back into hiding.

After what seemed like an extended period of sniffling tears, you looked back at him. He was sat on the edge of your bed, his sweatshirt draped over his forearm. You could see more of the deeper wounds on his arms now, which was a viscerally surreal feeling. It was impossible not to be aware of his reputation; it preceded him at every turn, he was correct about that. Something entirely new though was seeing the fallibility so transparently.

Before graduation—and honestly, before seeing him breaking down in the alley—you had practically thought he was immortal. You wouldn't have done such ridiculous, dangerous bullshit as walking through an active crime scene at night if you hadn't internalized his heroism. Until this moment you hadn't realized how much you'd relied on that story; the subconscious reassurance that the Batman provided to Gotham's citizens. The mythical creature unfazed by bullets, incapacitating anyone in its wake. Batman's neutralizing force was so accepted it went unquestioned; now you knew it was because no one truly knew him. You and Alfred were the only people who had. Suddenly, the world felt a lot more intimidating. If you were any less shaken up, you might've laughed at the unmasking of Santa; but even children mourned the loss of magic, and here you were muzzling yourself.

"Can I help?"

You needed to nip this in the bud. It was going to come out however it was going to come out, and you needed to be okay with that. "I, appreciate the effort." It wasn't coming out so easily. Be nice. Be nice. Be nice. "But I want this to stop." I didn't watch you. "You don't want my pity, and I don't want yours." Too harsh, scale back. "The only thing I need is for you to be safe. Alive."

You sounded so much like Alfred that Bruce bit back a snarky retort. Not the time nor the place. Your bed creaked as he stood up. He hated how your words sat in his chest, but there wasn't exactly anything he could do about it. "Okay."

No argument, no fighting. Like you requested something he already vowed to do. He walked past you into the kitchen, and you followed on his heel. You had never been so close to him alone, and never from behind. His back was broad, making his already impressive height even more menacing. Veins bulged under his skin. Swore a tendon twitched in his forearm every time he stepped on his left foot. If he had turned for the door you might have yelped, but he just finished the dishes in silence while you lingered, then sat on the couch. If someone walked in right now, and was one of the few humans who didn't know about Bruce Wayne, they might think this looked normal. It couldn't feel more foreign.

You didn't wait half a second after the sink turned off to fill the space. From your perch on the end of the couch, across the room. "Will you be safe once you leave?"

Like a knife scraping under his fingernails. So scared he wouldn't be alive the next morning. Skittish. "Yes." He wasn't looking back at you, wishing he hadn't already put down the dish towel so he'd have something to wring. "I promise."

What good's a promise if he's six feet under? Your life had become so singular so quickly, and you were anxious for it to get back to its usual painful mediocrity. "Really?"

Ugh. He turned to face you and followed your eyes searching the carpet. He sighed away his animosity, knowing the rage seeping into his chest was directed at himself; it was nothing greater than embellished fear. He knew this, was well acquainted with it. Maybe he did need to go back to therapy. He leaned his hip against the counter and winced, jamming straight into a blackened, split bruise. He grabbed his hoodie from where it was slung across the edge of the counter, grimacing at the effort only when his face was obscured. “Really.” Within seconds he was at the door, his hand on the handle. He noticed your eyes flash in his periphery, and his entire body constricted at the sight. He forced himself to meet your eyes. It was strenuous. He figured he needed to warn you. "Alfred and I have emergency plans for times like these. Whatever you read in the news, it's a cover-up." He popped open the door, hesitating on the departure. The air was thick with emotional exhaust. "I'll see you on Thursday?"

You nodded, relieved he was being more covert with his concern. Sugaring the medicine. "See you on Thursday."

[batmanlovesnirvana]

Chapter seven | midnight adventures.

masterlist

pairing : battinson!bruce wayne x fem!oc.

words : +9k

A/N : Don't know how to feel about this chapter, angst at the end— that seems to be Bruce and Maryam speciality lol

cw : Maryam being annoying but its ok she has her reasons lol, Bruce being a taxi driver at this point, 18+, thriller, medical procedures, angst, mental health issues, depression, ptsd, noire, canon-typical violence, POV alternating, gritty, horror, illness, slow burn, action, fluff, mutual pining, forced proximity, crime families, crime, fighting ect… read at your own risk !

previous chapter

THAT MAN had wrecked her day—not that it had started off great anyway.

But fuck him, all the same.

She couldn't understand why she felt even a flicker of empathy for someone who'd taken part in the slaughter of her people.

Whatever. Fuck him and everyone who backed those so-called "wars."

She went to the grocery store, reminding herself she actually needed real food instead of more takeout. It wasn't that she hated cooking or baking; she loved it, honestly. But lately, she couldn't find the comfort in it she once did.

Once she'd finished her quick run to the nearest market, she headed straight back to her apartment without a second to spare. She needed a nap, desperately. Four hours of sleep last night—especially a night spent as the Wraith—hadn't even come close to enough.

She walked slowly through the familiar streets, a bag of groceries in each hand, letting the sounds and scents of the neighborhood settle over her like an old, worn coat. Children's laughter echoed down the alley, and mothers leaned over balconies, chatting as they clipped laundry to drying lines. The air was thick with a blend of fresh bread and something sharper—weed, most likely. Odd, yet somehow comforting; in Gotham, this strange mix was almost homey.

Near the stairs of her building, a group of teenagers lounged, passing a vape between them. They looked up as she approached, and one of them—a lanky boy with a worn Gotham Knights basketball shirt and a red bandana tied around his head—raised a hand in greeting.

"Mornin', Doc!" he called out, a smirk playing on his face. "How's it goin'? Any luck findin' that psycho yet, or what?"

She adjusted the weight of her bags, returning the smile with a slight nod. "Not yet, Freddy," she replied, her tone casual but laced with the fatigue of long nights and endless files. "But soon, I hope."

"Better hurry up then—city's gettin' crazier every day," another boy chimed in, blowing a lazy ring of vape smoke into the crisp morning air.

She paused on the steps, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk. "And you all should be doing your homework instead of hanging around here like old men," she teased, her voice light but with a hint of a lecture.

They laughed, trading looks. Freddy shrugged, his grin widening. "What's the point, Doc? We're just gonna end up in some dead-end job anyway—just like everybody else around here." He made a sweeping gesture at the cracked sidewalks and peeling walls around them.

She raised a brow, lifting her chin with mock pride as she shifted the grocery bags. "Hey, I'm a doctor," she pointed out, nudging open the building's heavy door. "Not everybody's doomed."

Freddy laughed, waving her off. "Yeah, well, you don't count! You're, like, the exception around here." Another boy joined in, "Bet you were one of those kids who had their act together in, like, kindergarten."

She chuckled, pushing through the door. "Only sometimes. I didn't even speak English back then!" She held the door for a moment, looking back at them with a more serious expression. "But listen up, boys. School matters. Don't let it slip—you'll regret it."

They shifted a little, Freddy glancing down, scratching his neck. "Yeah... maybe."

She nodded, a small smile softening her tone. "And don't make me have to bail you out someday."

Their laughter trailed off, and for a moment, an unusual silence settled over the group. Freddy gave her a quick, sheepish nod, muttering, "Yeah, yeah, Doc. We hear ya."

With a final look, she let the door swing shut and stepped into the dim, familiar lobby. 

The scent of old wood, damp plaster, and faint traces of whatever the building's pipes had carried over the years wrapped around her like a worn-in blanket. She shifted her bags to one arm and fumbled for her keys, her gaze settling on the row of mailboxes near the stairs.

As she sorted through the usual mix of bills and coupons, her mind drifted to the boys outside. In some ways, they reminded her of her younger self—dreaming of escape, uncertain of what lay beyond, yet feeling the weight of the city pressing down on them. She couldn't help but hope that a few words here and there might nudge them in the right direction.

Then, amidst the mundane stack of letters, her fingers brushed against something different—a red envelope. 

Her heart raced as she pulled it out, feeling a flutter of anticipation. It had been a while since she'd received anything from them. 

The doctor turned the envelope over and noted the wax seal, stamped with an emblem of two golden eagles, an "R" nestled between them, crowned in regal splendor. She traced the seal with her thumb, curiosity piquing her thoughts. 

What could they possibly want?

Unable to contain her impatience, she grabbed her key and carefully opened the envelope. 

As she did, a rich, familiar scent wafted out—roses, sweet and inviting. It was the scent of her madraya, ummi, mama—whatever name she had called her. That fragrance had always felt so precise, so unmistakable, like a whisper of love lingering in the air.

The scent enveloped her in warmth and nostalgia, wrapping around her like a comforting blanket on a chilly night. She brought the paper close to her nose, inhaling deeply, and was instantly transported back to moments long forgotten, bittersweet and tender. 

But the scent of those roses was also poison to her already shattered and fragile heart, stirring feelings of love, tragedy, and unbearable loss. It whispered to her of all that had slipped through her fingers—moments, memories, and people—leaving only echoes behind, haunting reminders of what once was.

With trembling fingers, she opened the thick, luxurious stationery, her heart pounding in her chest as the elegant, unmistakably Russian handwriting greeted her. 

        Moya dorogaya Maryam,

I hope this letter finds you well. It has been far too long since we last exchanged words. For us, life continues as it always has, marked by the relentless rhythm of the seasons. The weather in Norfolk is, as usual, dull and gray, though I find it perfect for hunting.

Genevieve sends her warmest regards. She is beside me as I write, and she insists on saying hello to you, your siblings, and your dear aunts. You would be pleased to know that she's taken up gardening with a fervor, filling our home with blooms that remind us of you.

And then there's my son, Nikolai. You must have heard enough about him over the years, yet he's still full of surprises. He now resides in London with his wife, Elizaveta. The city feels far too chaotic and sprawling for my liking, but I suppose it keeps life interesting. Elizaveta is a force to be reckoned with, keeping Nikolai on his toes—she's a saint in that regard. You know how she is, always bustling about, ensuring everything is in order. She reminds me so much of you in that way, always juggling a million things at once.

But the reason I pen this letter today is to share wonderful news about my darling Annabelle. We are delighted to invite you and your family to her wedding, which will be held at the manor next summer. It promises to be an extravagant affair, filled with laughter and cherished memories.

I look forward to seeing you and your sisters there, my dear Maryam.

The letter was signed simply, A. Petrovich.

Uncle Andrei.

Maryam's chest tightened, a bittersweet mix of warmth and unease curling in her gut. It had been years—so many years that she could barely remember his face. She could still imagine her aunts and sisters gathering around once they heard, their voices dropping into whispers, each taking turns to inspect the red envelope. A letter from Andrei was like a rare comet passing through their lives, with everyone silently guessing what it meant.

Just as Maryam let out a breath, a hand clapped down on her shoulder, and she jolted, almost dropping the letter.

Standing there was Vera, her freckled face alight with a broad grin and her curls bouncing wildly. Vera—Vanessa to some, but always Vera to herself—was her vivacious neighbor, the type to walk into a conversation as easily as she walked into a room.

"Maryam!" Vera practically sang, her eyes immediately zoning in on the letter. "You look like you've seen a ghost. What's the big secret, huh?"

Maryam gave a small, surprised laugh, forcing herself to keep her tone casual as she held the letter close to her chest. "It's... just a family letter," she replied.

"A family letter?" Vera's brows shot up, intrigued. She was practically craning her neck, unabashedly curious as she leaned in a little closer.

Maryam angled herself away instinctively, but Vera didn't miss a beat, lighting up with a new story. "Family's always so fun, don't you think? I had a cousin once—my mom's nephew, you know him, he always thought he'd marry this princess. Real princess, too, he'd tell everyone. Had the ring and all!" She chuckled, completely unfazed by her cousin's delusion. "Of course, that fell through. But he still brags about the ring. A little embarrassing, if you ask me."

Maryam chuckled, keeping her voice light. "Well, it's not that dramatic," she admitted, though she could feel the weight of her own family's secrets pulsing with quiet insistence under her hand. "Though... it does involve a wedding, actually."

Vera's face lit up with glee. "A wedding? That's serious business! Weddings have drama built in. Who's getting married? You have to tell me."

Maryam shrugged, feigning nonchalance as she folded the letter back up and slipped it into one of her grocery bags. "A cousin. It's all up in the air still, but you know how families get." She smiled, though her mind was already drifting back to her apartment, the quiet afternoon she had been dreaming of all day. But Vera wasn't one to let go easily.

As the doctor reached for her mailbox keys and snapped the small container shut, Vera stepped back, only to launch into her next request with a bit too much enthusiasm. "Hey, actually, speaking of tonight... I was thinking—well, my sister was thinking—you might want to come with us to the Iceberg Lounge?" She gave Maryam a hopeful, wide-eyed look.

Maryam stared, momentarily taken aback. The Iceberg Lounge? Again? She'd been there just last night, and Vera's sister wanted to go there on a date? The Lounge wasn't exactly a place for innocent fun—it was infamous for shady deals, underworld connections, and the kind of crowd that fed on Gotham's darkness.

"Me?" she blinked, genuine surprise flashing across her sharp features. "To the Lounge? Tonight?" Her instinct was to turn her down politely—she had her grocery bags, her cozy plans to nap, and now a letter that raised more questions than answers. 

The thought of squeezing into a dress, surrounded by the smell of cigars and overpriced drinks, made her stomach churn.

"Yes, you," Vera replied with a knowing look, as if she could sense her hesitation. "You're always so busy, Maryam! You need a night out. My sister's got a new boyfriend, and he's got us a VIP section. Don't you ever get tired of being all... mysterious?"

"Mysterious?" Maryam gave a wry laugh, arching a perfectly structured brow. "I'm a medical examiner, Vera, not a spy."

Vera rolled her eyes but grinned. "You say that, but I'm convinced you're hiding something." Then, softening, she added with a pleading look, "It's just... you're always in your own world, always busy with work, doing important things, and I thought, for once, you could just be a regular person with me. At a nice, safe VIP table."

VIP? Maryam almost laughed. 

The Lounge was no mystery to her—she'd spent enough nights there in the shadows, moving unseen as the Wraith, blending into the dark corners to extract secrets from the very people seated in those VIP sections. The irony of going as herself, with Vera, was surreal.

And she certainly wasn't thrilled about heading back to the Lounge so soon after last night's mission, but maybe a little distraction wouldn't be the worst thing...

Still, Maryam couldn't shake the feeling that tonight was going to be more complicated than Vera had planned. The Iceberg Lounge wasn't just any club—it was Gotham's underworld neatly packaged in a glamorous façade.

The shimmering lights, the velvet ropes, the thumping music—it all concealed the dangerous undercurrents that ran deep through the city's criminal heart. And after the chaos she'd dealt with as The Wraith, the last thing she needed was to wade back into that world, even if it was just for one night of "fun."

She much preferred the quiet safety of her apartment, the warmth of her cozy little space where she could shut out the noise of the city. A night in with a simple meal, maybe scrolling through her phone, or watching a nice movie sounded like heaven compared to the tension brewing inside her now.

The solitude was soothing, it was a stark contrast to the life she led outside those walls. 

No masks, no knives, no lies—just her.

Besides, the letter loomed in her mind, dredging up thoughts of family and old memories. She opened her mouth to turn Vera down when, with a dramatic sigh, Vera caught her hand and gave her best pleading look.

"Please, Maryam? I'll owe you forever. And you know I'm good for it. Anything you need."

Maryam sighed, her resistance slipping away, worn down by Vera's relentless enthusiasm. "Alright, alright, fine." She felt her shoulders relax, accepting the inevitable. "But just this once, okay?"

Vera squealed, throwing her arms around her in a hug so tight it almost lifted Maryam off her feet. "Oh, thank you, thank you! You have no idea, I'll never forget this!"

Maryam laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, yeah. But don't make a habit out of this, okay?" She gently disentangled herself from Vera's arms and shifted the grocery bags in her hands.

Vera released her with a beaming smile. "I swear, I won't! I'll knock on your door at nine, is that good?"

"Sure. That's good," Maryam replied, already mentally planning for the evening ahead.

With a final wave, Vera darted up the stairs, leaving Maryam to climb the narrow staircase alone, her footsteps echoing against the creaks and groans of the old building.

She reached her floor, hearing the muted sound of a TV playing somewhere down the hall and catching a faint whiff of someone's dinner cooking.

At her door, she fished out her keys, balancing the grocery bags in one arm as she struggled with the lock, which stuck like usual. She gave it a firm twist, and the door finally gave way with a soft bang, revealing her small, cluttered sanctuary.

She stepped inside and set her bags on the counter, letting out a long breath. Books and vinyl records were stacked in organized chaos, and a few plants perched on the windowsill looked as though they might have survived another week. Her cozy space, with its patchwork of comforting clutter, embraced her like an old friend.

Unpacking the groceries, she glanced out the window at the city below, stretching into the distance with its endless hum and flickering lights. There was something oddly comforting about its restless energy, a steady rhythm that matched the beat of her own mind.

And then her gaze drifted back to the bag on the counter—the letter, sitting there like an unanswered question, waiting for her to make sense of it. She stared at it for a long moment, as if something in its ink and paper might unlock memories she'd long since buried. Perhaps she hoped for a sign, some small word of warmth or recognition from the past. But the edges of the envelope remained silent and indifferent, like a distant relative with too many years between them.

Family. 

It could be a beautiful word, or it could be a curse and a mystery, veiled in secrets and memories that faded with time.

But for now, all she could do was grab a quick shower, take a small nap, and get ready. Whatever was waiting at the Lounge, she'd deal with it.

Just like she always did.

Cocktail dresses were not her forte.

Maryam stood in front of her open wardrobe, arms crossed, a deep sigh escaping her lips as she surveyed the options before her.

A frown creased her perfectly shaped brow.

Most of the outfits hanging neatly in her closet were better suited for formal events or professional settings. 

Nothing here screamed "night out at a club." She flicked through the hangers impatiently, pushing aside blouses, blazers, scrubs, and slacks that felt too restrained for the evening ahead.

Her bronze, sun-kissed skin seemed to glow in the dim light of her room, reflecting softly off the wardrobe mirror. It was a striking contrast to her usual dark attire.

With her athletic frame and graceful curves—sculpted by years of stealth training and night pursuits—she could make almost anything look good. But tonight, her frustration wasn't just about finding the right dress. It was about stepping out of her comfort zone, something she rarely allowed herself to do.

She huffed in exasperation, ready to give up, when something caught her eye—tucked away in the back, forgotten in the shuffle of daily life.

The doctor reached for it with a flicker of hope, pulling out a sleek black-and-gold cocktail dress she hadn't worn in years. She hadn't even remembered buying it, let alone why it had never seen the light of day.

The dress was perfect—elegant yet daring.

The bodice hugged her figure, the black fabric clinging to her like a second skin, with intricate, shimmering details tracing along the top like constellations scattered across a midnight sky. The skirt flared out slightly at the hips, a flirtatious golden shimmer running through the black fabric, the hem brushing just above her knees.

It was sexy, bold, and exactly the kind of confidence boost she needed for a night out.

She slipped it on, adjusting the straps until they rested perfectly against her shoulders. The fabric felt cool against her skin, accentuating every curve in just the right way. She turned in front of the mirror, admiring how the dress shimmered with every movement. It wasn't her usual style, but tonight she felt like embracing something different.

Satisfied with the dress, Maryam turned her attention to shoes. She owned only two pairs of heels—one for formal events and another for fun nights like this. She reached for the latter: black, strappy stilettos with a sharp heel and minimalist design.

They elevated her already long legs, making her stride look even more graceful. Sliding into them, she felt a surge of confidence wash over her.

Next came her hair and makeup.

Maryam stood in front of her bathroom mirror, a determined look in her eyes. Her naturally curly hair framed her face in wild, untamed waves, but tonight she wanted something different. She straightened it, adding volume and shine, before parting it to the left, creating a sleek, glamorous look that softened her sharp features.

Her makeup followed the same bold theme—sharp winged eyeliner, golden-white shimmer dusted across her eyelids, highlighting her bronzed skin.

The shimmering tones made her hazel eyes gleam under the bathroom lights, giving her an almost otherworldly glow. She finished with a classic red lip, a beautiful contrast against her warm complexion.

It was dramatic, intense, and undeniably stunning.

As Maryam stepped back to survey herself in the mirror, she barely recognized the woman looking back.

There was something raw and striking in her reflection—a beauty she'd never felt in quite this way before.

It reminded her of the journey she'd traveled, from a girl who hid behind masks, blending into shadows, to this version of herself.

Tonight, she wasn't hiding.

Every inch of her was polished to perfection, radiating a confidence she wasn't used to wearing.

A sharp knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts.

Vera.

Maryam took a deep breath, shaking off any lingering hesitation.

She'd committed to this night out, and for once, she intended to see it through. Opening the small black clutch on her vanity, she checked her essentials one last time: phone, keys, cigarettes, lighter, and—of course—her knives, hidden but always close.

She gave herself one final glance in the mirror before reaching for her black fur coat.

The soft fabric enveloped her in luxurious warmth, draping over her shoulders like a second skin. A few spritzes of her favorite perfume completed the transformation.

She was finally ready.

Another knock sounded, this time with an edge of impatience. "I'm coming!" Maryam called, voice laced with playful annoyance.

When she opened the door, Vera's jaw dropped in mock amazement. "Goddamn, Mar," she said, voice dripping with admiration. "You outdid yourself tonight. You look hot as hell, bitch."

Maryam smirked, rolling her eyes. "Shut up," she replied, though a small smile hinted at her amusement.

"Girl, please," Vera laughed, giving her a light tap on the shoulder. "You know you do."

Vanessa looked stunning herself. Her curls framed her face perfectly, and her smoky eye makeup made her doe eyes pop under the hallway's dim light. The glossy pink of her lips curved into a mischievous smile as she adjusted the hem of her flirty pink dress.

Together, they headed down the stairs, the steady clack of their heels echoing through the stairwell. In the lobby, they were greeted by the raspy voice of Gary, the elderly doorman who was practically a fixture in the building. Perched in his beat-up plastic chair with a cigarette dangling from his lips, he was Gotham's unofficial neighborhood watch, offering his unsolicited judgments on all who passed by.

As Maryam approached, his eyes widened in a rare show of interest. "Well, what a fucking doll you are tonight," he whistled, his gravelly voice almost amused.

Maryam resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Gary's crudeness was as predictable as his smoking habit, yet tonight his offhand compliment was oddly amusing. Maybe it was the dress, or maybe it was the thrill of being noticed.

"Thanks, Gary," she replied smoothly, brushing past him and leaving him to his cloud of smoke and judgments.

Vera received her own whistle from Gary as she passed, and the girls shared a knowing glance, shaking their heads with small, amused smiles.

Once settled in the plush seat of Vera's car, Maryam closed the door with a soft click behind her. Inside, the warmth of the car cocooned her, a comforting contrast to the night air outside. The low hum of the engine buzzed beneath her, a subtle reminder that the night had only just begun.

As they sped down the street, Maryam adjusted her fur coat, savoring its luxurious softness as it settled over her shoulders.

Underneath, she could feel the familiar weight of her concealed knives—a constant reminder of the life she balanced, between shadows and moments of normalcy like this. No matter how glamorous the night, she never left without them.

Vera glanced over, her approving smirk still firmly in place. "You really clean up nice, you know that? It's a shame you don't go out more often. You could have half the city eating out of your hand if you wanted."

Maryam chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Not really my style, and you know it."

Vera sighed dramatically, keeping one hand on the wheel as she merged onto the main road. "Yeah, yeah. But once in a while, it's good to let loose. You need it more than anyone I know."

Maryam didn't argue. Vera had a point. Between her demanding job as a medical examiner and her life as The Wraith, nights like this were rare. These were the moments when she could set everything aside, even if just for a few hours—pretend to be someone else, someone who didn't carry the weight of secrets and shadows.

The city lights blurred together outside her window, the familiar skyline casting Gotham's silhouette against the inky night. She stared out for a moment, lost in thought, until a question suddenly popped into her head. "Wait, are your sister and her boyfriend not joining us?"

"Oh, they're already there, waiting for us at the lounge," Vera replied, a mischievous grin creeping onto her lips. "Alessandro—my sister's boyfriend—he's the one who pulled some strings. Got us a VIP table and everything!" She wiggled her eyebrows, barely containing her excitement.

Maryam's stomach tightened. Alessandro. She had a sinking feeling about this.

"Please don't tell me it's... that underground club," she muttered, hoping her guess was wrong.

The club within the club, a hidden world where Gotham's elite gathered in secrecy. She knew it well—not as Maryam, but as The Wraith. Just last night, she'd prowled those rooms, cloaked in darkness, gathering intel. Tonight? Tonight, she was bare, unarmed in more ways than one.

Vera, oblivious to Maryam's inner turmoil, shrugged with an innocent smile. "What? I mean, I wouldn't really know. I just know it's fancy." She smirked, eyes gleaming.

Maryam let out a small, forced laugh. "Fancy, huh?"

Her grip tightened on her clutch, knuckles whitening. She knew Vera meant well, but she didn't understand. Gotham's elite didn't play by the same rules. And here, where secrets were currency, and favors held more value than gold, the stakes were high.

Even now, beneath her glamorous exterior, she felt the weight of her hidden knives pressing against her skin, a reminder that she could never fully let her guard down. Not here.

Vera chatted away as they approached the club, her excitement palpable. "So, his name's Alessandro, but before you say anything, I know he's... well, shady." She added quickly, "But my sister likes him. It's only been a week, so it's not serious."

Maryam sighed. "Italian charmers. Always the same," she muttered with a smirk.

"They're not all bad," Vera replied defensively, though she shot Maryam a knowing smile. "Look, I know you have your... concerns. But tonight, I just want you to have fun. We'll stay as long as you're comfortable, and if you need an out, just say the word."

"Thank you," Maryam murmured, squeezing her friend's shoulder. Then, in a lighter tone, she added, "Just... don't lose me in there, okay?"

They pulled up to the Iceberg Lounge, where the crowd buzzed with energy, eager to dive into Gotham's nightlife. Vera led the way, navigating through the throngs with practiced ease, flashing a confident smile as they sidestepped the velvet ropes.

But then she saw them.

The Twins—Boris and Maksim, towering sentinels of the Lounge.

Maryam's stomach twisted at the sight of them. Known for their brutal efficiency, they were gatekeepers of Gotham's underworld, faces cold and calculating. She often referred to them as the Evil Twins, a joke that hid the truth. They knew her as The Wraith, but as Maryam, she was just another face.

The weight of their scrutiny pressed down on her, quickening her pulse. She forced herself to breathe steadily, feeling the cold steel of her knives, their presence reassuring in the midst of this familiar, dangerous world.

"Relax," Vera whispered, catching the tension in her friend's jaw as they neared the entrance. "It's just a night out. No one's gonna bother you here."

Maryam forced a tight smile. "Yeah," she murmured, exhaling slowly. "Just a night out."

 As they stepped into the underground club, the deep, rhythmic pulse of music filled the air, vibrating through the floor beneath their feet. 

It was the same as she stepped as the wraith the other night, the lights inside were dim, casting a moody glow over the lavish interior of the Iceberg Lounge. 

Everything felt luxurious and dangerous at the same time—Gotham's elite brushed shoulders with the shadows, a mix of power and menace lingering in every corner.

Maryam let her eyes adjust to the low light, clutching her fur, taking in the sprawling dance floor and the glittering chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. 

The bar was packed, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and alcohol. She felt Vera grab her arm, pulling her closer as they navigated through the crowd.

"See? Not so bad," Vanessa said, her voice just audible over the pounding bass. "Just some little fun."

Maryam forced a smile, nodding, but her eyes were scanning the room. 

Even if she wasn't The Wraith tonight, her instincts were hard to turn off. Every flicker of movement caught her attention, every unfamiliar face was logged in her mind. Old habits. She had worked too long in Gotham's underbelly to let her guard down.

They made their way up the stairs to the VIP section, a private area where Vera's sister and her boyfriend were waiting. The music quieted slightly as they reached the upper level, the noise of the main club below muffled by thick glass windows. 

Alessandro stood as they approached, his charming smile disarming yet slightly unsettling. He was tall and impeccably dressed, exuding a confidence that whispered of wealth and power. Maryam returned his smile with a polite nod, but an instinctive shiver ran down her spine. There was something about him—a magnetic charm that felt dangerously close to predatory.

"Hey, guys!" Vera called out, her voice bright with excitement as she spotted the couple lounging on the plush, red cushions.

"Look who finally decided to join the living," Alessandro teased, a smirk tugging at his lips, wavering somewhere between playful and condescending. Vera's excitement was evident in the way she beamed at him, but Maryam felt a gnawing apprehension in her stomach.

"Welcome, welcome, ladies," he added, his voice smooth as the whiskey he was swirling in his glass.

Constance—Connie—Vera's older sister, gave him a sharp glance, her protective instincts flaring for a moment before she took control of the situation. "Alessandro, play nice. This is their first night out in ages. Well, for Maryam at least," she smirked, casting a look at her sister.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Vera replied, putting on an exaggeratedly offended look.

Maryam carefully settled into the cushioned seat, her body tense, her legs crossed tightly. She held her fur coat in front of her, clutching it like a shield against the mounting anxiety that threatened to engulf her.

Meanwhile, Maryam eased herself down into the seat, carefully, as if a single wrong move would shatter her poise. She held her fur coat in front of her, clutching it like a shield against the creeping anxiety gnawing at her. Her legs crossed tightly, her posture conveying both elegance and guardedness.

Alessandro raised his glass, glancing over with a lazy smirk. "Relax, everyone. It's just a night out," he said, his voice light, though his gaze was anything but. Despite the casual words, something in his tone hinted at layers that went deeper than his outward charm.

Vera gave a bright smile and introduced the couple. "This is my sister, Connie, and her boyfriend, Alex," she said, dropping her clutch on the table with a little flourish. "I'll grab us some drinks—be right back."

Maryam narrowed her hazel eyes, a flicker of discomfort rippling through her. Why had she left her alone with strangers?

Connie, who had been quietly observing Maryam, spoke up over the thumping bass of the music. "So you're a medical examiner?"

Maryam tried to play it cool, though unease curled in her stomach like a snake. "Yes," she replied, offering a small smile that felt more like a mask than genuine warmth.

"By the way, I love your dress and makeup!" Connie exclaimed, her tone warm and genuine, her eyes lighting up as she admired Maryam's outfit. "You look absolutely stunning!"

Maryam had put effort into her appearance tonight, hoping it would boost her confidence, though the tension knotting her stomach threatened to dampen her excitement.

"Thanks," Maryam replied, feeling a slight flush rise to her cheeks at the compliment. "You look amazing too! That blue is perfect on you!"

Constance only smiled and flocked her hair behind her shoulder.

Alessandro leaned back, loosening the buttons of his shirt, a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't want a drink?"

"Hm, I actually don't drink. I just came here with Vera to keep her company." 

"That's sweet of you," Connie remarked, fidgeting with her nails as if they were a distraction from the atmosphere. "If you ever want to leave, don't hesitate."

Why did they keep repeating that?

"Yeah, Vanessa told me. But I don't really want to leave her alone."

"She's safe with me, don't worry," Connie tried to reassured her.

Maryam only nodded, the awkward silence settling over them like a heavy blanket. She could feel their eyes on her, studying her, dissecting her with their gaze. She pretended to observe the club around them, feigning disinterest, but her mind was racing. 

Her eyes flicked toward groups of people huddled at tables, the glow of the lights revealing a few familiar faces—Gil Couson, the District Attorney. It wasn't surprising; she'd seen plenty of DA's and GCPD officials frequent this place when she operated as The Wraith.

When she looked back at her table, she found Alessandro and Connie already watching her, their expressions unreadable. Clearing her throat to break the tension, Maryam attempted to steer the conversation. "So, what do you guys do for a living?"

"Well, I work in a bank, assistant." Connies says, taking a sip from the martini that had just been set on the table.

"Oh yeah, Vera mentioned it," Maryam replied, forcing a light tone. "And you?" She directed her question toward Alessandro, her curiosity piqued despite herself, even if she already had an inkling of who he really was.

"Business," he answered simply, his gaze unwavering, a slight edge to his voice that made Maryam's heart race.

She nodded, the conversation dwindling into an uncomfortable silence. Vera still hadn't returned, and the weight of the atmosphere pressed down on her.

Just then, a group of men entered the table, speaking rapid-fire Italian, their presence commanding and decidedly more dangerous. One of them shot Maryam a wink as they settled in, launching into a hushed conversation that felt too secretive, too conspiratorial. 

Sensing the tension, she leaned closer to Connie. "I'm going to grab some water."

Connie only nodded, still sipping on her martini.

Maryam stood and made her way toward the bar, navigating through the throngs of people, each lost in their own world of revelry and distraction. 

As she walked, she collided with a woman sporting a striking red wig. "Oh shit—I'm so sorry!" Maryam blurted, her cheeks flushing slightly as she stepped back.

"No, it's me," the woman responded, her brows knitting in confusion as she studied Maryam intently.

Maryam offered an awkward smile, the unease creeping back into her veins as she continued toward the bar, the vibrant chaos of the club swirling around her. 

She felt like an outsider, a ghost among the living, and as she reached for a glass of water, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched—by both friends and foes alike.

The doctor took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she finally reached the bar. The pulsating beat of the club made her head throb faintly, and she felt the weight of dozens of eyes on her. But maybe it was just her own nerves amplifying everything. She focused on the bartender, who was busy sliding colorful cocktails across the counter to eager hands.

"Just water, please," she said, her voice barely carrying above the music. The bartender nodded, raising an eyebrow slightly before he turned to get her drink.

As she waited, Maryam forced herself to take in the room, hoping it might somehow ease the chill that crept up her spine.

But her gaze snagged on a familiar face: the red-haired woman sitting with none other than Gotham’s district attorney, Gil Coulson.

Married, with kids, yet here he was, leaning in close, as if he had no reputation to keep up—or maybe just didn’t care anymore.

She almost laughed at the irony.

Of course Coulson would show up somewhere like this, where drops flowed and morals faded.

Then her eyes drifted back to Alessandro.

He sat surrounded by his group, that same unreadable expression fixed on her. Even when he rose to speak to someone across the room, his gaze didn’t waver, didn’t stray from her for an instant, as though he were studying her, waiting.

She looked away, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, trying to steady her breath, to shake off the feeling that she’d made a grave mistake.

She shouldn’t have come here, not tonight, not so exposed, not with eyes watching her from every corner.

“First time out in a while?” The bartender’s voice pulled her back to the present as he handed her the glass of water.

She managed a small smile. “That obvious?”

He shrugged with a sympathetic smile of his own. “Just a guess.”

A low, gravelly voice cut in, intruding on the exchange. “Rough night, huh?”

She turned, immediately regretting it.

Leaning casually beside her was a man with dark eyes and a teasing smirk, a jagged scar cutting across his brow.

Matteo—Vittorio's bodyguard.

Shit. How was he still standing after the beating she'd given him yesterday? Her gaze dropped to his leg, where a cane was propped against him. Well, maybe not entirely.

He held a cocktail, studying her like she was prey he’d patiently been waiting to pounce on. She kept her expression neutral, unwilling to give him even a hint of reaction.

“Something like that,” she replied, voice steady but gaze guarded. Small talk wasn’t on her agenda, especially not here, and especially not with someone like him.

Matteo let out a rough chuckle, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Well, don’t let the night swallow you up, ghost girl.”

The nickname struck her like a strange jolt, stirring something cold and uneasy in her gut, but she masked it with a polite, dismissive smile.

“Thanks, but I’m fine,” she said coolly, turning back to her drink, hoping that was the end of it.

Matteo lingered just a second longer, his gaze trailing over her like he had every right.

But then, as if summoned, he turned abruptly toward a group across the room—one that included Alessandro. Her stomach tightened. 

Of course. 

So her suspicions were right; Alessandro was working with the Falcones.

She watched him slip through the crowd, blending in with the familiar ease of someone who’d spent too long in the shadows.

The unease she’d felt before coiled tighter, sharper, her pulse hammering.

There was no coincidence here, not with the way Alessandro caught her eye, his lips quirking in a faint, knowing smirk.

It wasn’t just some off-chance meeting.

They were watching her—had been all night, it seemed.

A chill crept through her, settling in her bones like ice. She’d been careful, blending into the crowd, slipping through unnoticed—or so she’d thought.

But every look, every sideways glance she hadn’t caught, now felt like an unseen thread tightening around her.

Her grip on the glass tightened, the cold condensation seeping into her skin. She felt exposed, out of place, like prey unknowingly lured into a trap. 

She had to keep control, play her part, if only until she could slip away unnoticed.

But she needed to go. Now.

Maryam casually placed her glass on the bar, hoping her fingers weren’t visibly trembling.

With a practiced smile, she nodded at the bartender, as if all was well, as if the weight of prying eyes didn’t press down on her shoulders.

When she finally left the bar, the medical examiner wove her way back toward their table.

Her eyes scanned the dim, crowded space until they landed on Alessandro, still watching her with a lazy smirk, his gaze assessing, as if he'd caught every detail of her evening.

The doctor fought the urge to roll her eyes, sighing inwardly as she continued walking. Her fur coat felt weightier now, almost like armor against the scrutiny of the room.

Back at their table, she found Connie sitting alone, a bit annoyed but glued to her phone. "Hey," Maryam said softly, sliding into the seat beside her.

"Hey," Connie murmured, barely looking up before flicking her eyes back to the screen. The flashing lights cast a colorful glow on her face as she scrolled.

Maryam hesitated. "I haven't found Vera anywhere, and... I'm exhausted. Tomorrow's kind of a big day for me. I think I'm gonna head out."

Connie's gaze remained fixated on her phone. "Yeah, sure. Go home if you want. Not like you have to stay just because Vera's here," she replied dismissively, her fingers continuing to tap rapidly on the screen.

"You sure? I don't mind sticking around a bit longer. I just don't want to leave Vera stranded."

Connie finally glanced up, a flicker of understanding crossing her features. "Look, Maryam. It’s ok, go. She's fine. She'll go home with me when we're done here. Just don't worry about it." She gestured vaguely to the edge of the dance floor, where Vera stood close to a tall guy with tousled hair, laughing as he leaned down to say something in her ear. "See? She's busy."

Maryam smiled faintly. "Alright, if you're sure. I don't want to be rude."

Connie sighed, rolling her eyes as she returned to her phone. "Honestly, it's better for you. This place isn't really your scene anyway. You'll be bored out of your mind."

"Guilty," Maryam falsely admitted, forcing herself. "It's just... not really my thing. I've got a long day tomorrow too."

"Right, the mayor's funeral." Connie didn't look up, still focused on her screen. "You should definitely go home then."

"Thanks, Connie. I appreciate it." Maryam gathered her things, glancing once more at the buzzing club before standing up. She offered Connie a warm smile. "Thanks for having me. I hope you two have fun."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Connie barely looked up from her phone, her tone dismissive as she continued scrolling. "Safe travels! Just text Vera if you need her."

Maryam could sense the irritation radiating from her. With a grateful nod, she turned and made her way toward the exit.

As she slipped through the crowd, she pulled out her phone, shooting Vera a quick text to check in: 

Heading home. Hope you're having fun. Stay safe !! <3.

With a resigned sigh, she slipped out of the club and into the cold night air. 

Lighting a cigarette, she took a deep drag, feeling the smoke fill her lungs, and began to walk down the street in search of a cab.

The click-clack of her high heels echoed against the pavement, each step a reminder of how out of place she felt.

Clutching her fur coat tighter around her shoulders, she let her thoughts drift, allowing the city's vibrant nightlife to fade into the background.

Suddenly, without warning, a gloved hand gripped her arm and yanked her into a dark alley.

Panic surged through her as she yelled, the sound swallowed by the night, but before she could draw a breath or take one of her hidden knives, a hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her.

“What the hell?!” she muttered against his hand, her voice muffled but furious. Without a second thought, she bit down hard, forcing him to pull his gloved hand back. Taking advantage of the moment, she shoved against his solid chest, trying to free herself from his grip.

"What were you doing in the 44 Below?" he only replied, his voice low and gravelly, darkened eyes with charcoal around it narrowing as he studied her, assessing the confusion etched on her face. 

"Are you stalking me, you fucking creep?" she shot back, her heart racing.

She fought to regain her composure, her breath coming in shaky gasps, visible in the frigid air around them. With a quick movement, she pushed the stray strands of hair away from her mouth and eyes, trying to clear her vision and steady herself.

"I saw you there," he said simply, his mask obscuring most of his face.

"How?" she demanded, her tone sharp, but he ignored her question, his gaze unwavering.

"What were you doing there, Maryam? Are you tangled up with Carmine Falcone's corrupt bunch?" His words were sharp, each one dripping with suspicion as he stepped closer, invading her personal space.

Instead of answering, she lashed out, slapping him hard across the cheek. The sound echoed in the quiet alley, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment, turning his head slightly as if her strike had genuinely stung.

"Fuck you. No, I was here because a friend invited me! I didn’t even know we were going down there!" she snapped, her anger simmering just below the surface. "I didn’t stay long, anyway."

Turning on her heel, she started to head back toward the street, desperate to escape the confrontation.

But as she did, her ankle twisted awkwardly, sending her crashing to her knees on the unforgiving pavement. A sharp wince escaped her lips as pain shot through her. What a stupid move, Maryam. Bravo. The bitter thought lingered in her mind.

He was at her side in an instant, concern etched into his masked features.

"Leave me alone," she muttered, trying to wave him off, but he shook his head, his voice firm. "You need to sit still."

"I can and I will, Zorro." she insisted, her pride flaring. 

But he didn't listen. 

Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms, her surprise morphing into indignation as she yelped. "What the hell are you doing? Oh my god--"

"You can't walk like that," he reiterated, his tone brokering no argument.

"I can manage!" she protested, but her struggles were futile against his strength. 

He carried her with no problem as if she weighted nothing, toward a mid-engined muscle car, sleek black and big car parked nearby, opening the door to the passenger seat.

"Hey—" she began to protest, but he cut her off, locking the door with a swift click before sliding into the driver's seat.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, a hint of panic threading through her voice.

"Your apartment," he replied, the engine roaring to life as he pulled away from the curb.

Maryam stared at him, a mix of anger and bewilderment coursing through her. She had never asked for this—for him to step in as her protector.

Her gaze drifted over the car's interior, buttons gleaming everywhere, with only two seats and a large motor behind them.

It looked as if he had built it himself.

Absentmindedly, she reached out to touch one of the buttons, intrigued by the craftsmanship.

"You shouldn't touch that," he warned, his deep voice breaking the silence.

"Sorry," she murmured, quickly retracting her hand and crossing her arms, pulling her fur coat tighter as she turned to stare out the window.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the steady hum of the engine and the faint squeak of his leather gloves on the wheel. 

When she glanced at the vigilante, his jaw was clenched, his gaze fixed ahead, refusing to meet hers—as if he was deliberately avoiding her. 

She furrowed her brows, puzzled by his cold distance. 

Who was she kidding? They barely knew each other; of course he would act like that. The way he kept his emotions under wraps, as if they were a dangerous secret

He didn’t respond, just continued to drive with that inscrutable expression.

It infuriated her further to no end.

Did he think she was weak? Did he believe she couldn’t handle herself?

The tension in the car was suffocating, thick enough to cut with a knife.

Maryam shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her mind a storm of unspoken thoughts. Being this close to him was unsettling, and the fact that he was shutting her out now only stoked her frustration.

"So this is how it's going to be?" she finally asked, her voice low but edged with annoyance. "You play the hero, drag me into this mess, and now you're just going to ignore me?"

He didn't answer right away, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. The city lights flickered across his face, casting sharp shadows that only made him more unreadable.

After what felt like forever, he finally spoke. "I didn't drag you into anything," his tone was controlled, but there was something darker beneath it. "You were already in it. I'm just making sure you stay alive."

Maryam scoffed, shaking her head. "I never asked for your help. I don't even know you. You're the one who keeps showing up out of nowhere," she said, her hands gesturing animatedly as she threw him a sharp glare.

She cursed under her breath in Arabic. "I can handle myself just fine."

The tension in the car was suffocating, thick enough to cut with a knife. Maryam shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her mind a storm of unspoken thoughts. Being this close to him was unsettling, and the fact that he was shutting her out now only stoked her frustration.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel, the tension in his sharp jaw making every muscle stand out. 

Maryam's eyes flickered to the small cut on his face—her cut, the one she'd given him without realizing the night The Wraith clashed with the Bat. His cheek was still red from where she'd slapped him earlier. 

Guilt tugged at her, but only for a moment. He had underestimated her, after all, and maybe this was his karma. The leather creaked under his hands as he snapped, "Handling yourself almost got you killed tonight."

His words hung heavy in the air as he glanced at her, his gaze hard as they stopped at a red light.

"Killed?" Maryam shot back, her voice rising in disbelief. "What are you even talking about? I was literally minding my own business, smoking a cigarette, and you dragged me into that alley! If anything, I should call the cops on you for kidnapping!" She jabbed her finger toward his face, anger sparking in her eyes, her pulse quickening with frustration.

He didn't flinch, but his gaze darkened. "It's Gotham. It's dangerous anytime, especially for a woman at night."

The words hit her harder than she expected. 

For a moment, the car was filled with nothing but silence, the engine's low hum the only sound between them. Maryam swallowed the knot in her throat, her chest tight. 

There was truth in his words, but the way he said it—like she was some helpless victim—ignited a fire in her. She wasn't just another woman in Gotham, and she sure as hell didn't need his protection.

But despite the anger simmering inside her, the weight of the night and his warnings pressed down on her like a cold, heavy blanket. 

She turned her gaze out the window, unwilling to let him see just how much his words had stung.

Because unfortunately, he was right.

"It's doctor to you," Maryam snapped back, her voice sharp. "And why do you care so much about what happens to me?"

He didn't respond immediately. 

The low hum of the engine filled the silence, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer at all. 

But then, in that deep, controlled voice of his, he said, "You're valuable."

Her stomach twisted. 

Valuable? That was it? 

That was his reason for constantly showing up? For interfering in her life? A mixture of hurt and anger rose in her chest, so intense it was almost frightening. He infuriated her in ways no one else ever had.

She stared at him, catching the familiar clench of his jaw. "Right," she said, trying to sound unaffected. "Lovely to hear," she added with a biting edge to her voice.

His gaze flickered, perhaps noticing her frustration, but he stayed silent, stoic as ever.

"That's all I am to you, then? Valuable?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, yet trembling with the weight of withheld anger. She spoke as if to herself, words slipping out like secrets she could no longer bear to keep. "Just some asset to monitor, a liability to contain—like a ticking bomb?"

She didn't stop, didn’t give him a chance to answer, and he could feel the words catch in his throat, unspoken, the retort he might have given already hollow. Her voice held a rawness, an unfiltered pain that made his chest constrict, and he hated the way it cut through him, so exposed and honest.

"I’m not just valuable. I’m a person. I bleed, I break. And you… you can’t just—" Her words wavered, her voice splintering as she tried to find the right thing to say, to capture the truth of how much his detachment wounded her. "You can’t just treat me like I’m another cog in your mission, something to be controlled and used when convenient."

He gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, tension flickering across his face as he fought to hold his composure. "It's not that simple," he said, his voice taut, controlled.

"Oh, please," she shot back, folding her arms as if to shield herself from the hurt that pooled in her chest. Her tone was bitter, tired. "If you’re going to keep manipulating me, following me, then at least be honest about it. Don’t pretend it’s for my sake."

"I'm not here to manipulate you," he shot back, his tone sharp and cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Then what are you here for?" she challenged, fully aware she was being infuriating, but it felt like a necessary pushback. "Because from where I'm sitting, all you've done is make my life infinitely more complicated." She laughed bitterly, the sound laced with frustration. "Do you think I wanted any of this? You just show up, decide what's best for me, and vanish like—like I'm supposed to be grateful!"

His gaze stayed steady, unwavering, the shadows in the alley accentuating the angles of his face. "You're not just in danger, Maryam. You are the danger. To yourself, to others. If you get caught up in this without knowing what you're dealing with, you'll be—"

"Collateral damage?" she interrupted, raising an eyebrow in challenge. "Another loose end for you to tie up? Don't you dare stand there and pretend this is just about keeping me safe."

She jabbed a sharp finger toward him, her frustration palpable. "You just don't want anyone interfering with your plans. Isn't that right hm?"

"Believe what you want," he replied, his voice hard, but she could sense a tremor beneath it. "But if you understood what's out there, you wouldn't be asking for independence. You'd be begging for protection."

Her eyes blazed with anger as she held his gaze, feeling the weight of every word. "I. don't. need. protection. And certainly not yours. I'm capable of making my own choices, even if they aren't the right ones."

"Then those choices are going to get you killed," he replied, blunt and unyielding. But his voice was different this time, the edges frayed, his words dropping into something raw, almost desperate. "And you have no idea what that would mean—for the people you'd leave behind."

What?

Her breath caught, her anger stumbling as the confusion washed over her. What did he mean?

He was so confusing, so closed off, it hurt.

She opened her mouth to respond, to demand an explanation, but the words vanished in the hollow space between them.

A flicker of something—surprise, maybe ?—crossed her face as she saw him, just for a moment, slip. She'd never expected to see even a crack in that armor.

The silence stretched, taut as a wire, until they pulled near the Narrows, the streets narrowing and darkening around them.

He eased the car to a stop in an alleyway by her apartment, and the tension between them was so thick it seemed to vibrate, settling like a weight on her shoulders.

"Thanks," she muttered, barely meaning it, as she reached for the door handle. The bitter night air struck her as soon as it cracked open, a jolt of cold that only intensified the aching in her chest, the emptiness his words left behind.

The chill bit into her skin as her feet touched the pavement, and she welcomed it—a reminder that, at least, her night was ending. She was just about to pull her hand free, to escape back into her own world, when she felt his hand close around hers, firm and unyielding.

Startled, she looked back, but he didn't meet her gaze, his expression hidden in the shadows. He pressed something into her palm—a small device, cool and solid in her hand.

"For emergencies," he murmured, his voice low and final.

She looked down at the device, feeling the cool weight of it settle into her palm, a tangible reminder that, despite everything, he'd bound her to him yet again.

It was a lifeline, but one she hadn't asked for—a link to him she didn't know how to sever, even if she wanted to. Anger and confusion swirled within her, pressing up against her resolve. 

Part of her wanted to throw it back, to end whatever twisted bond he kept tethering her to. 

But her fingers only tightened around it, a reluctant acceptance she despised herself for.

"Right," she said softly, her voice almost swallowed by the silence. "Because I'm 'valuable.'"

He was so still, so unyielding, but the shadows softened just enough for her to catch something in his expression—a flicker of hesitation, a crack in his perfect, unreadable mask. 

The cold barrier he wore around himself seemed to shift, and she could almost feel something between them, a weight heavy with unspoken things, words neither of them could say.

Their eyes locked, and for a heartbeat, she almost believed he would answer her. But the flicker passed, buried beneath the steel of his gaze, the armor snapping back into place. 

He was the Bat once more—untouchable, unreachable.

"Stay safe," he said finally, his tone curt, though beneath it, that rawness lingered, faint but unmistakable.

She swallowed hard, her chest tight, and managed a small nod. Her voice barely rose above a whisper. "Be careful."

His gaze shifted, just a flicker, but enough to show her words had once again slipped past his defenses. Somehow, it was her specialty with him—finding those hidden, vulnerable places beneath his armor, stirring something in him he'd long thought dead. 

It was as if she could reach the parts of him he'd buried, unsettling that stone-cold heart he swore no one could touch.

Without another word, she turned, stepped out, and closed the door, her fingers lingering on the handle for just a moment longer than necessary. Then, she stepped away, her legs carrying her quickly toward her building.

She didn't look back, didn't trust herself to. 

The door to her apartment closed behind her, but she could still feel his presence, the memory of that unsaid moment like an ache in her chest.

Outside, the Batmobile remained in the shadows, unmoving, a silent sentinel. His silent presence lingering like a ghost in the shadows, unwilling to let her go but never willing to let her stay.

It didn't pull away until her apartment light finally flickered on, and even then, the empty space it left felt far too heavy.

previous chapter | next chapter

Didn’t edit the chapter yet…. sooooo sorry for any mistakes ;)

btw this is the outfit & make up/hair I had in mind while writing the chapter— if anyone’s interested ofc (lol) :

…don’t hesitate to drop a comment tho !! xxx

[sl33paholics]

Let's Start The Day Together.

Retsu Kaioh x black!fem reader

Warning(s): mentions of mental health / illnesses (social anxiety n depression), body image issues, social anxiety

I've been having a shitty, exhausting week. I had a huge exam on Tuesday and am now off for the rest of the week until my other exam. Had a health scare, so that wasn't good lol so I wanted to make this writing piece for comfort. This is more of a self-insert, but lowkey made it an "x reader" in case people can relate

It's hot.

You can feel small sweat glands running down your face as you scratch your durag to relieve the itching you had from last night, letting out a huft as you lay on your messy bed trying to get comfortable. You don’t know if it was the fact that you just woke up or if you were going crazy but somehow, this felt like a dream.

You felt sticky.

You were in heat.

You shifted your attention from the ceiling to the small clock on your desk. It was after 1:30 pm.

Your body temperature felt way hotter than normal, especially since you had slept with a sports bra on with your long, baggy ass shorts. Your durag smelled like sweat, and your skin smelled disgusting. You didn’t want to go to work today. But at least the heat was tolerable. You tried to rub away some of the sweat with a shirt that's been sitting on your bed for days, but that only made it worse.

You groaned, sitting up and rubbing your temples. Your head was pounding, making you nauseous.

Taking a good look around your decent-sized spaced room, it was a mess. Sorta. It was a chore to clean up when you have containers filled with unused clothes that you don't bother to wear, boxes of items that you hadn't opened once you moved out those years ago, or even your books that you had yet to read. Your closet looked like there was never an organization to it whatsoever; your bookshelves were mostly empty except for your favorite books. You had no pictures of family that hung anywhere. Everything seemed to be in the same state you left it in.

Why bother to clean? You'd always ask yourself, no one visits. So why would you bother taking care of anything? Maybe you could take a shower. Maybe. Hopefully. You weren't sure what else to do to cool off, besides sleep. You slowly stood up, stretching your arms above your head while yawning. When you finally decided that it was enough to rest for now, you made your way into your bathroom.

At least you took care of your living room. It looks decent if you're ignoring the fact that it took almost a month to finally get off your lazy ass to do something about it. It smells nice and feels nice as if a huge weight got lifted off whenever you step out of your horrid room.

After you did your business, you couldn't help but look at yourself in the mirror. Baggy eyes, stretch marks from your arms to the lower half of your stomach, and your unkempt hair. As if you looked homeless. As if you were lost in a trance, you didn't hear your front door being unlocked and opened by someone who had a spare key. You didn't even realize someone was in your apartment until they walked in.

"Y/N?" a voice called out to you as you shifted your attention to the person behind you, Retsu standing at the doorway with bags in his hand. Restu must've come over here because he wanted to check if everything was okay. "Did you just wake up? Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." He'd say, looking away to the side. You couldn't help but wonder if he wasn't used to seeing you in your condition. "I just wanted to make sure you're alright," he finished. His brows furrowed as he stared you dead in the eye. Was Retsu mad at you? That doesn't seem possible, but maybe he was just concerned for you? You shook it off, deciding not to dwell on it too much.

"Yeah," you replied awkwardly, putting your hands in your pockets. "I'm just feeling kind of under the weather right now... but I'll be alright." You trailed off, giving him a smile. As the two of you were settling down, you noticed that Retsu brought groceries and other things you'd need. You knew he was trying to make you feel better, so you appreciated it. You didn't even realize how hungry you were until Retsu mentioned food. How embarrassing, how did I forget about food? You thought, biting your lip sheepishly. It was quiet between you two. The only noise in the apartment was Retsu putting stuff away and making the two of you lunch. Once he was finished, he placed plates in front of you on the coffee table while he sat down across from you. You thanked him.

Silence. What was there to even talk about? You felt bad. Retsu did all this and took time out of his day to come to see you, only for you to not spark up a conversation. You let out a loud sigh. "Y/N." You looked over at him, noticing a soft expression on his face. It seemed to be a mixture of concern and pity. "Something's bothering you."

"Retsu, please..." You began. He held his hand up, stopping you immediately.

"Just tell me what's wrong."

"But-"

"No, Y/N," he interrupted sternly, "I've been texting you for days now. I haven't gotten one reply once. You're not looking too well, what happened? Your co-workers are saying you're not showing up to work either." Retsu would ask again. He was starting to sound annoyed. He leaned back on his chair, crossing his arm.

You sighed, knowing he wouldn't take no for an answer. "Okay. Fine." You looked back at your food, not sure what to say. The silence stretched for what felt like forever before you started speaking up again. "I'm just having one of those moments...y'know? I don't know. I don't think I left this building in a week?" You let out a nervous giggle, but you could tell Retsu wasn't happy with your response. "I don't have anybody who I consider friends that I can hang out with. I have work-friends. Not best friends. They do not acknowledge me outside of that, so I've just been in here in my room." You'd say turning your attention away from Retsu, your eyebrows frowning at what you just said.

Retsu didn't respond. You felt a pang of guilt run through you. He probably thinks you're a loser for talking to him like this. You rambled on how much it was difficult to wake up on time, and if you did, you didn't want to go anywhere for the day. You neglected your hygiene and physical appearance. Going on and on, you felt overwhelmed every time you looked in the mirror. You finally stopped your rant once you felt your throat clogging up and tears running down your face.

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes, hoping to catch them before you cry.

Retsu didn't move or speak for a few seconds, and then you heard him stand up from his seat. Before you could protest, you felt strong arms wrap themselves around you, hugging you tightly. You hugged him back as you felt your breath catch in your throat. "If it makes you feel better... I woke up around one o'clock. Last time, I woke up around six in the evening." You said with a chuckle to lighten up the mood. You let him go, but not before resting your hands on his chest to keep him at arm's length. You could feel your heart racing.

Retsu chuckled. "It does," he admitted. A genuine was spread across your face, the first one you'd smiled in weeks. You wiped at your eyes again before giving Retsu another hug. It was warm. You missed the warmth of him around you. He gave you another pat on your back before pulling away from the hug. He got on one knee before clasping your hand tightly. "I'm glad you told me what's been going on, Y/N." Retsu would say as you noticed his thumb was caressing on top of your hand. "And whatever's bothering you now, I'll do my best to help you." The sincerity in his voice was hard to ignore. You were touched by his words. "I'll stay the night here with you." Retsu would say, standing up again.

"You don't have to, I can take care of myself..." You tried to tell him. Retsu shook his head.

"I know, but that doesn't mean I can't watch over you, y'know." He gave you a reassuring smile as he offered his hand again to help you up. You took it hesitantly, allowing him to pull you up. "Let's leave in a few minutes. Getting fresh air is always good for the body." Retsu suggested.

You agreed easily, still feeling a little bit guilty for not opening up to him sooner. If only you had. But you were happy enough to have a guy like Retsu around to assist you during your roughest times.

[nadvs]

Hiii love, how are you?? I usually don't send asks to writers on Tumblr, so you're the first writer I'm sending to, yayyy 🤗 I loved loved loved the ending of the Watch and Learn, I loved the entire series. Rafe's growth throughout this series was amazing, you write him so well. Because of all your series, I continue to be a Rafe girly, I thought Cam Girl was your best series but Watch and Learn took the cake and I can't wait for you to finish Both Sinners 😊

You really are an incredible writer and I'm so happy I found your blog, you're always on my most recent blogs bc I check your page sm 😅 I really almost cried when reading the last chapter because I thought back to how Rafe and reader were in the beginning and how they are now in the end 😪 They're literally couple goals, I'm obsessed. Oh gosh, I've already made this so long but while I was reading the last chapter, I couldn't help but think back to the girl Rafe hooked up with and how he had the audacity to msg reader after. If it's not an issue, can you feed my fantasies and write a small blurb on reader getting revenge on Rafe and making him sooo jealous for doing that, I'm petty like that🤣 If you can't, it's no worries but thank you for continuing to be an incredible writer and such a sweetheart and for reading the excessively long msg 🥲 Much love hun🩷 Byeee👋

HI HONEY i’m good tysm, how are you!! you are so so so sweet 😭 i feel honored to be the first writer you’re sending an ask to 🥹 thank you for reading my work and sending such a kind message!! hehe my fav part of writing the last chapter of watch and learn was def sprinkling references to all the things they’ve been through since they met and the memories they made 🤭 i am so glad that you loved it 💘

i LOVE this prompt and absolutely can feed into the pettiness hehe 😌

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It was bad enough hearing Rafe make a girl moan through your shared wall. It was ten times worse when Rafe texted you “his bad” for the noise.

Followed by an lol. What a douche.

If he’s trying to make you jealous, two can play at that game.

You go to an on-campus bar with friends the following Friday night when you bump into a guy you recognize from one of your lectures. Once you realize he’s hitting on you, his eyes trailing down your cleavage, you feel the exciting twist of arousal deep in your stomach.

You invite him to your dorm. He seems shocked you’re giving him a chance. It makes him even cuter.

Rafe just got home from a night at the frat house when he hears you laughing in the hallway. He figures you’re with a friend or on the phone. Until he hears a male voice under your giggles.

He hears the door shut. Then music. Then… damn it. You’re moaning.

He’d be turned on by the sounds you’re making if it wasn’t for the fact that another man was coaxing them out of you.

You’re on the other side of the wall, body buzzing while he uses his mouth on you. He needs some coaching, but he’s definitely skilled.

You’re exaggerating your moans a little bit, unsure if Rafe can hear. When you hear thudding on the wall, you know he can.

Rafe’s fist is burning as he knocks on the wall, trying to get you to quiet down. He wants to say he’s just annoyed that you’re being loud this late at night, especially after you’re so self-righteous about quiet hours, but he knows jealousy when he feels it.

And this is jealousy.

When you get on top, your moans aren’t as exaggerated anymore. You feel genuine bliss as you ride him, controlling the pace, feeling his hands on your hips.

He’s not a talker at all, so you can’t help but think of the things Rafe says during sex.

Suddenly, the knocking is on your door instead of your wall. You meet your classmate’s eyes and laugh with him, taking a pillow and covering your body with it as you answer the door.

Rafe is standing in the hallway, jaw tight.

“Check your phone,” he says. “I’ve been texting you.”

“I’m… kinda busy,” you laugh.

“Yeah, I can hear,” Rafe mutters. “I think everyone on our floor can.”

“Don’t be jealous,” you tease, hoping he gives it away that he is. When he looks away with a scowl, you’re pretty sure he is.

Rafe can’t take it anymore. He tilts his chin forward, straightening up as much as he can.

“She moans louder when she’s with me!” he half-shouts into your room.

“Rafe,” you scold, nudging his arm. He smirks at you and you shut the door, shaking your head.

After your classmate leaves, you check your phone to see the texts Rafe was talking about.

Rafe: happy for u that ur getting some but chill

Rafe: he cant be THAT good

Rafe: you know i can fuck you better

Rafe: CHILL ur so loud

You laugh at the texts. He definitely can fuck you better. But he doesn’t need to know that.

[swaggypsyduck]

i hope you don’t mind me asking but how does ramadan actually work? i know you can’t eat or drink anything while the sun is up and there’s something about music (?) but what other things are part of the celebrations?

hi anon!!

so ramadan is the holy month of fasting! its the 9th month of the Islamic lunar calendar and lasts 29-30 days depending on the new moon sighting. Islamic fasting is basically no food, water, and sex (not no food/water/sex at all just not during the day) from dawn to sunset. now then if u have medical issues (ex. diabetes) u dont have to fast. and if ur on ur period u dont have to fast those days that ur on ur period but unlike the ppl w medical issues u have to make those days up throughout the year.

ramadan is also the month of the quran and also when we believe the quran was first revealed to the prophet mohammed (pbuh) so we try to read as much of it as we can the entire month. it's also when all the evil djinns/shayateen are locked up so it's easier for us to make good decisions. if ur still sinnin then that's 100% a habit and u problem lmaoooo. so basically it doubles as showing us what we need to work on as ppl for the next year.

as for the music part its recommended u cut it out and replace it w quran. which is general advice but ive yet to meet someone who does that to a T lol. but if u must (for studying purposes) have music then islamic nasheeds or music w no words is ideal.

after the last mandatory prayer (isha) of the night there is a optional prayer that only happens in ramadan called taraweeh. it's where u go to the local mosque and pray as a community. and hopefully finish reciting the quran by the end of the month. its super fun bc after prayer ur friends and family bring desserts and tea and socialize a bit before going home and sleep/preparing for suhur.

once ramadan is done we have 3 days of EID UL FITR!!! which is the big celebration for after Ramadan. (ill make a post on that closer to eid)

NOW FOR THE CULTURE!! so different cultures do food differently. and some have foods specific to ramadan. we also invite friends and and family to iftar and its generally a super fun time!! and in some mosques taraweeh turns into a fashion show/pintrest board of inspiration. not that u have to be dripped out just be presentable in the house of god uk!!

p.s. i left out more specific information bc itd get too confusing but if u have anymore questions then feel free to ask!!

[cha-melodius]

Hi friend! Congrats again on 100 works! Thank you for offering to write more for us! ❤️I'd like to request 1. firstprince and 2. Kensington as an AU, but only because you dared us to! Alternatively, if someone already requested that and you don't want to duplicate, I'd be interested in a hockey AU set inside the rink! Thank you again, I am so excited to see what you come up with and to read more of your words!

(Thank you so much for taking my bait lol, I've wanted to write this canon-divergence AU where they hook up in Kensington during the damage control trip for a while now. I hope you enjoy!)

Falling Down the Stairs of Your Smile

(firstprince, 4.1k, M; read it below or on AO3) read all the fandom fest fics

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. They were supposed to finish up at the hospital, and then Henry would go back to whatever the fuck he does while Alex went to the airstrip. He’d fly back to DC, so that maybe he’d be able to get some schoolwork done before Monday, and try to forget that this ridiculous weekend ever happened—barring the fact that he and Henry were still obligated to keep up the fake friendship for a few more months, that is.

Instead, Cash comes up to him as they stand outside of Kensington with a slightly grim look on his face and says, “Change of plans.”

“Huh?”

“They discovered an issue with the plane during the flight prep. It needs some part that they’re not going to be able to get until tomorrow morning. We’ll leave then.”

“What do you mean, they can’t get it? Why not?” Alex demands. Surely in a country with fucking royalty, nothing is out of grasp for said royals and their guests.

Cash shrugs. “Didn’t ask. The palace confirmed you can stay another night.”

Alex groans probably a little too dramatically. “What about my classes?”

“I am, in fact, very aware of your class schedule,” Cash says dryly. “You’ll be back in time.”

“I don’t have another change of clothes.”

“Pretty sure Kensington has laundry.”

“I’m really not getting out of this, am I?”

“Nope.”

Alex sighs and looks over to where Henry is standing with Shaan by the front gates. There’s a look of trepidation on his face, no doubt because he’s just been told that he’ll have to deal with Alex for another night. Of course, that’s not a given. Henry will probably disappear into his apartments and ignore him, which suits Alex fine. They may have reached a kind of détente today, but they’re not friends.

“Sorry to hear about your plane,” Henry says as they get back into the car that will drive them further into the palace.

Alex shrugs. “It’s fine. I guess I’ll have to survive the hardship of ten thousand thread count sheets another night.”

Henry huffs a little laugh and grins. It’s kind of amazing how different he looks when he smiles for real. “I know you’ve probably had your fill of me today, so feel free to say no, but…” He hesitates a moment, as if waiting for Alex to shut him down before he even makes his proposal. “I was thinking of ordering in curry for dinner tonight. There’s a place not far away that’s quite good. Maybe watch a film?”

It’s pretty much the last thing Alex expected him to say. He wonders if this is another olive branch, an acknowledgement that it’ll be easier to pretend they’re friends if they’re actually… kinda friends. Surprisingly, Alex doesn’t hate the idea.

“What movie?” he counters.

“Well, I would suggest one of the Star Wars films, but I’m not sure we could agree on one.”

“If we’re not going to watch the best one, aka Empire—”

“You mean Return of the Jedi,” Henry interjects.

“—I guess that leaves the next best.”

“So, Rogue One?”

Alex grins. “Ok, maybe we can be friends, after all.”

He’s absolutely not letting himself think about the warmth that grows in his chest when Henry laughs.

~~~~~

Alex discovers that there’s a room in Kensington that’s pretty much as tricked out as you can get without being in a movie theater—“There’s an actual theater in Buckingham,” Henry tells him, “but Dad had this put in for family film nights”—with a massive screen and a killer sound system. They eat their curry out of take-out containers on a surprisingly comfortable, normal couch as the movie plays, keeping up a running commentary between them that ranges from Star Wars lore to the cast (“Come on, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t follow Diego Luna anywhere. Look at him!” Alex insists, which garners him a strange look from Henry) to random things entirely unconnected to the movie.

Turns out Henry is actually really funny, which is a fucking shock and kind of annoying except for how he leaves Alex in stitches several times. It’s absurdly easy between them in a way that it shouldn’t be, and Alex can’t remember the last time he had this much fun just hanging out with someone. And it’s Henry. What is his life, even.

“I can’t believe you like this one,” Alex says as they watch Jyn and Cassian embrace desperately on the beach. “It’s pretty much the opposite of a happy ending. For the main characters, at least.”

Henry hums, tipping his head slightly. “They give up everything in the service of a cause bigger than themselves, and they succeed. There’s something beautiful about that.”

“God, you are a sap,” Alex teases, bumping his shoulder up against Henry’s. Somehow they’ve managed to migrate closer on the couch over the course of the movie, until they’re practically touching.

“And why do you like it, then?” Henry counters. “The action and spies and intrigue?”

“Not only that,” Alex says. “But there’s a reason I’m a big Bond fan.”

A smile flickers across Henry’s face that’s a little melancholy but mostly contented. “I suppose that makes sense given what I know of your movie tastes now.”

“Also, your dad was a total babe.”

Henry’s eyes go wide as he chokes on a laugh. “I beg you to not.”

They lapse into silence as the final scenes as the credits start to roll. The movie is over and it’s getting late, but all Alex can think of is that he really doesn’t want the night to end yet. Which is crazy. Twenty-four hours ago Alex was actively cursing this man’s name, and now he seemingly can’t get enough of spending time with him. It doesn’t make any sense, but somehow it does; it’s the same feeling that he was chasing all those years ago in Rio, the one that pushed him to go up an introduce himself at exactly the wrong time, the one that made the hurt of that encounter linger for so long in his psyche.

“Hey, uh,” he says eventually, turning slightly to look at Henry, “thanks for suggesting this. It was fun.”

“I hope it made up for being stuck in London longer than you wanted,” Henry replies, his voice low and soft.

“Definitely.”

Henry smiles, a warm and pleased one that stretches his lips and crinkles the corners of his eyes, and Alex feels like he’s being pulled in by the magnetism of it. He wants to get closer, despite how close they’re already sitting. His fingers twitch with the urge to touch—the soft blond hair falling over Henry’s forehead, the sharp cut of his cheekbones, the fullness of his lips. He’s always known Henry was objectively good-looking, but Jesus, where does he get off being so pretty? It’s annoying, really.

Alex isn’t trying to make things weird, but he also can’t quite help the way his eyes are drawn inexorably down to those plush lips, still curved in a gentle smile. Who even has lips like that, does he get fillers or something, because they can’t be real, except they look very, very real, Alex hasn’t even ever kissed any girls with lips that nice, that look that soft—

Something short circuits in Alex’s brain and he just— has to know. How soft they really are. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s leaning in and pressing his lips to Henry’s, which are, as it turns out, extremely soft. It only lasts for a second before his brain comes back online and he realizes Henry’s frozen stiff, which is fair, because Alex has no fucking clue what he’s doing. He hasn’t kissed a boy since Liam and this was not the fucking boy to just kiss out of nowhere. He’s gonna get, like, locked in the Tower of London or something.

He wrenches away as quickly as he leaned in, meeting Henry’s wide, stunned eyes (—still so so blue, how can they be that blue—), his lips slightly parted and just a little damp from Alex’s.

“Shit,” Alex breathes in a rush. “Fucking shit— I don’t know why I did that, I’m so sorry, Henry, I didn’t mean anything by it—”

“Alex,” Henry murmurs, but Alex is too far gone in his spiral at this point.

“—I promise, it was just— I mean, I’m not even—”

“Alex.”

Alex stops in the middle of a word, his mouth hanging open. Henry’s got some kind of strange look on his face that he can’t parse at all.

“Did it really not mean anything?” he asks slowly.

The thing is, Alex has no idea what it means. Absolutely none. Something inside him—something he doesn’t really understand—wanted to do it, but like, just as an objective experiment. Except that part of him wants to do it again, even though he already got his answer. Really wants Henry to kiss him back. Which is making him feel a little insane.

Alex closes his mouth, licks his lips, and swallows hard.

“That depends,” he says cautiously, “on what you want it to mean.”

For some reason, that makes Henry growl in frustration and cast his eyes to the ceiling. Then he groans, “Christ, Alex, you’re so—”, grabs Alex’s face between both hands, and kisses him soundly.

Alex’s insides go positively molten. Henry’s hands are gripping his jaw, and in his hair, and Alex can’t help but press closer. His own hands find Henry’s narrow waist, reveling in the dip of it, the heat of his body scorching through the thin fabric of his shirt, and the only thing currently occupying Alex’s mind is a desperate urge to feel bare skin under his palms. That is, until Henry slides his tongue along Alex’s lower lip, sucks it into his mouth and tugs on it with his teeth, and Alex stops thinking altogether.

Their positions are a little awkward, twisted toward each other on the couch as they are, and Alex isn’t sure if he pulls or Henry pushes—or maybe both—but a moment later Henry is unfolding his long legs and shifting to straddle Alex’s lap, which is both incredible and incredibly overwhelming. Especially when Henry’s hips rock forward and Alex can feel his growing arousal pressing into the rapidly tightening region of Alex’s pants.

Jesus, this is— it’s— it’s a lot, but the very last thing Alex wants to happen is for it to stop.

He absolutely does not whimper when Henry pulls back, sending Alex unconsciously chasing after his lips. Fortunately, Henry doesn’t go far. He presses their foreheads together, breathing raggedly into the space between them as his thumb swipes across Alex’s cheek.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Henry breathes, and yeah, Alex had no fucking clue.

His mind is spinning at a thousand miles an hour, and he has no idea what to say to that besides: “Fuck.”

Henry chuckles softly, nudging their noses together. “Indeed.” He presses a soft kiss to Alex’s lips, then another to the corner of his mouth and one to the edge of his jaw. “Do you want to… go somewhere we won’t be interrupted?” he murmurs into Alex’s ear, and his warm breath combined with the words makes Alex tremble under him.

Alex swallows hard as his hands tighten on Henry’s hips, but he hesitates a moment too long because then Henry is actually pulling back, a concerned expression creasing his brow.

“Which is not to say— we don’t have to do anything more if you don’t want— I just thought—”

“I want to,” Alex blurts, surprising even himself. He’s not entirely sure what more means to Henry, but he knows he wants it. Jesus, does he want. “Yes. Fuck. Let’s do that.”

Henry grins, wide and nearly blinding in its brilliance, and Alex thinks he would do just about anything to see that smile on his face always.

They clamber off the couch, adjusting themselves with shared, knowing giggles, then Henry grabs his hand and tugs Alex through formal, stuffy corridors lined with portraits and antiques, which just adds a certain something to the absurdity of the whole situation. Somehow it’s not a surprise that Henry’s apartments are just as impersonal and opulent as the rest of the palace, full of hideous floral wallpaper and baroque furniture. Before, he’d have put that on Henry himself, but now it feels wrong despite the fact that Alex still barely knows him. It feels like he knows enough. Henry eats curry on the couch and cracks crude jokes and sniffles at the tragic endings of Star Wars movies (yes, Alex noticed). Henry is warm and soft and feels like he belongs in cozy, simple rooms full of old books and tea and cardigans.

Alex’s musings are cut off when Henry pulls him close again at the foot of the hideous gilt monstrosity that is his bed, wrapping his arms around Alex’s waist and tugging him into a lingering kiss. It’s softer than before, delicate and sweet, exactly like Alex would imagine Prince Charming would kiss. From this angle Alex has to tip his head up to kiss him, which is definitely not something he ever thought would do it for him, and yet. Henry’s evening stubble scratches against his chin, and broad hands grip onto his hips and pull him against the hard, flat planes of Henry’s chest, all of it constantly reminding him of the unmistakable masculinity of the person he’s currently making out with.

Alex thinks, distantly, that he should probably be freaking out about this a bit more, but it’s too easy to give himself over it in the moment. He can freak out about what whatever the fuck it means later.

Henry’s hands move to the front of Alex’s shirt, and his nimble fingers make short work of the buttons before pushing it backwards off Alex’s shoulders. His fingers leave trails of fire where they linger against Alex’s bare skin, and even just this has Alex moaning into the kiss, desperate for more. He tugs at Henry’s shirt, yanking the tails out of his pants and nearly tearing the buttons open in his haste, which makes Henry laugh at him, the bastard.

“Eager, are we?” Henry teases, and Alex bites the grin right off his face.

“Shut all the way up,” he huffs before sinking his teeth into the absolutely irresistible collarbone he’s just uncovered.

Henry sucks in a gratifying breath at that, his hands tightening on Alex’s waist, and then he’s manhandling Alex back onto the mattress, which has no business being as hot as it is. Alex kicks off his shoes before scrabbling backwards so that he’s lying against the pillows, his heart racing as Henry crawls up over him with a nearly predatory grin on his face. The way his body fully blankets Alex’s is overwhelming in the best way, making every part of Alex ache with the need to somehow be closer, even as Henry presses the their bodies together from knee to chest and captures Alex’s lips in another deep, probing kiss.

They kiss and kiss until Alex’s lips are almost numb from it, their hands roving over heated skin and through thoroughly mussed hair. Henry’s hips roll slowly against him, almost a question, and Alex groans when he feels the hardness of Henry’s cock pushing against his hip. His own is straining against the front of his trousers, and his breath shudders in his chest when he imagines what it would feel like to have Henry’s hands wrapped around him.

But—

“Hey, uh,” he breathes as Henry’s mouth moves to his neck, and he’s nearly driven to distraction by the feeling of Henry’s teeth scraping lightly over his pulse point, but he wants to get this out, “I’ve never actually—” His voice fails, and Henry pulls back just enough to look him in the eye. Alex swallows. “Done this. With a guy. I mean, kinda, but not really—” He lets out a frustrated huff. “It’s a long story.”

Henry stares at him so intensely and earnestly that Alex feels flayed open by it, like Henry can see all the parts of him that Alex himself didn’t know were there. “We can just do this,” he says as he pushes a curl back from Alex’s forehead. “The last thing I want is to push you into something you’re not comfortable with.”

It’s completely reasonable not to rush things, but Alex thinks if he leaves London without seeing Henry naked he might fucking expire.

“Did I not already fucking say I wanted it?” he retorts, a little testily. Better that than admitting how desperate he really is.

“Well, to be fair, we didn’t exactly specify—”

“I want you naked,” Alex breathes in a rush. “I want your hands on me. Your mouth, if— if that’s something you want.”

Henry’s gaze goes dark and hot, and he actually licks his lips. Alex’s dick twitches in his pants. Jesus Christ.

Henry dips back down to kiss his neck, but a moment later he answers. “That,” he says, pressing it into Alex’s skin as he kisses a path down his chest, “is something I very much want.”

Then Henry’s hands are at his waistband, making short work of his belt and peeling off his underwear and pants in one go, and everything goes very, very hazy after that in the absolute best possible way.

~~~~~

The room is quiet after they subside, after every ounce of pleasure has been wrung from their bodies, after shouted names ease into murmured endearments.

“I should go,” Alex eventually whispers into the stillness, because he should. It would be better if he spent the night in his own rooms. Safer.

He doesn’t want to, though. He doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts right now, doesn’t want to give his brain the space to run wild with this. That’s what will happen if he goes. He’ll fall into a research spiral on google, and text Nora even though it’s too late, and quietly freak out about everything that’s happened tonight. Here, though, Henry’s got an arm thrown over his waist, and it’s not much, but the weight of it soothes something within him. Keeps him grounded.

Maybe it’s just Henry that settles him. He doesn’t want to think too hard about that.

“You could stay,” Henry murmurs back. He leans in, presses a kiss to the outside of Alex’s shoulder. “No one will notice. Tomorrow’s Sunday. The staff come in late.”

This is a terrible idea. This can’t be… anything, really, given who they are. Alex doesn’t even know what he wants it to be, but he knows that.

“You sure?” Alex asks anyway.

“Stay,” Henry repeats.

So Alex stays.

~~~~~

The bed Alex wakes up in is unfamiliar, which is hardly surprising given his travel schedule lately. What is unexpected is that he’s naked, and there’s a warm, naked body pressed against his back, and abruptly all of what he got up to the previous night comes slamming back into vivid clarity.

He slept with the fucking prince. Henry. His nemesis, except not actually, apparently, and oh yes, definitely also a dude. Alex sucked his dick and most definitely enjoyed the experience, so that’s a whole new thing. The freakout about his sexuality that he shoved to the back of his mind last night rockets to the forefront now, and he can feel his breath stutter in his chest.

Except then Henry’s arm tightens around him and he presses a sleepy kiss to the back of Alex’s shoulder, and the tightness in his chest unclenches somewhat. Not all the way, but enough.

He fumbles for his watch, then jolts up to sitting with a new fear once he sees the time. Jesus Christ, Cash or Amy is going to show up at his bedroom any minute now to pick him up so they can leave, and Alex isn’t fucking there. This is a disaster.

Henry grumbles at being disrupted, sleepily rubbing at his eyes in a way that’s definitely not adorable at all. “Time is it?” he mumbles through a yawn.

“Late,” Alex huffs, briefly getting tangled in the sheets and nearly falling out of the bed in his haste to find his clothing.

He’s halfway into his pants when there’s a knock at Henry’s bedroom door, and he almost falls on his face again. That seems to wake Henry up a bit more, and he finally sits up, his hair standing up in all directions and his eyes gone wide.

“Yes?” Henry calls out.

“The Secret Service seem to have misplaced their charge,” comes Shaan’s voice through the door, and Alex would very much like to die right now. Henry stumbles out of bed, throwing on a robe, then opens the door just enough so that Alex isn’t visible. “I told them I would inquire with you to see if you had any idea of Mr. Claremont-Diaz’s whereabouts.”

There’s something very knowing in Shaan’s tone, like he’s perfectly aware of where Alex spent the night and furthermore none of this is exactly a surprise to him, and Alex only barely manages to hold back the extensive collection of curses crowding at the tip of his tongue. What the actual fuck.

“Ah,” Henry says. His cheeks are bright pink. “Just a moment, I’m sure I can help you locate him.”

“I’m not sure I’ve properly conveyed how agitated they are, sir.”

“Tell them I’m ok,” Alex sighs begrudgingly, stepping into view now that his shirt and pants are on. It’s not like he’s kidding anyone; he’s still barefoot in Henry’s bedroom and the bed that two people clearly slept in is fully visible from where Shaan is standing. “I just—”

Shaan holds up a hand. “Believe me when I say that you do not need to finish that sentence. I will deliver the message, but”—he pauses, glancing between them—“you probably shouldn’t linger.”

He pulls the door closed behind him as he goes and, despite the warning, Alex stands there for a minute, rooted in place and staring at the floor. Maybe Shaan doesn’t want an explanation, but the Secret Service certainly will. Fuck.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Henry says quietly, suddenly close beside him. Alex hadn’t heard him approach. He still looks so soft and sleep-rumpled, and something tugs at Alex’s chest that absolutely should not be tugging. “I shouldn’t have talked you into staying here.”

Alex huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “I didn’t take much convincing,” he says. “I shoulda just set a fucking alarm.”

“Probably,” Henry agrees, his lips tipping into a wry smile that fades into a look of concern. “Are you… ok?”

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I be?” he answers, probably a little too quickly. Henry just stares at him in that way that makes Alex feel entirely too seen. “Probably gonna get chewed out for disappearing, but it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“That’s not exactly what I was talking about.”

Alex swallows. “I’m fine.” He offers Henry a little smile. “This was fun.”

“It certainly was,” Henry agrees carefully.

“Where’s your phone? I’ll give you my number, it’ll be easier to plan joint appearances or whatever,” Alex says in a blatant attempt to divert from a discussion about what happened or what this makes them. He’s got to figure his own shit out first. He doesn’t need Henry to know that he’s already wondering when he can arrange his schedule to see him again.

Henry gives him a look, but he fetches his phone and hands it over to Alex with a blank contact page open. Alex types in his number and hands it back.

“I’ll be disappointed if you only use that for booty calls,” he jokes.

Henry sputters out a laugh. “Noted.”

He’s endearingly pink-cheeked and smiling, and Alex doesn’t think before he takes the last step that puts him in Henry’s personal space, grabs the fronts of Henry’s robe, and pulls him into a kiss.

If he’d had any lingering doubts about the previous night, about whether what he’d felt was real or not, this thoroughly dispels them. The press of Henry’s lips to his, the way their mouths slot together as easily as if they’ve been doing this for years, the zip of electricity that fizzles under his skin and spreads out to tingle in the tips of his fingers and toes… Alex has never been kissed like this, has never felt like this being kissed, and it’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

Like he’s falling.

Oh. Fuck.

[trashlama]

Heeeeeyyyyy.... guess who's ADHD can't let them write for shit?~ This bitch✨~

I suuuuuucck guys I know! I did a poll and everything just so I would have to write some of these! I just couldn't help but get side tracked.... My brain is in the LMK and Spiderverse fandoms!!! Though I will say I basically got this Rise Donnie x Big Mama Assistant req almost done. Almost I say. We'll see if I post it in the next two days and not something else random instead.... I suck lol

Anyways— here's my 3am thoughts from the other night that I'm finish up tonight ironically at 3am again. Soooo bare with me these are basically a bunch of summaries/plots/not fully flushed out possible one shot ideas I might do. Probably could've re-read it a couple more times buuuuttt it's about to be 4 now so....

I hope you guys enjoy!

Sorry this is long↓ I don't own these memes. I've never claimed to do so. I just come across them on Pinterest when I'm on break at work and think they're funny so I like to share them. If I mistakenly put one on here that I shouldn't have please let me know! I like to respect people's wishes. And if you could add the creator names too that would be great so the same mistake isn't made twice. Sorry for the inconvenience that my sharing may cause. I hope you have a good day.

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Sooooo I was going through the Across the Spiderverse tag(specifically Miguel O'Hara) because you know he's hot. Priorities— Anyways— I kinda had an idea. Brahhzz what if I just took the whole Miguel kidnapping his dead wife/lover's alternate dimensional copy deal that everyone has been throwing around and introduced a new take on this tale?

We all know that the Spiderverse is very open to a wide selection of possibilities and versions of Spiderman and we're all aware that the same thing applies to other characters as well. Soooo who said that Y/n has to be a civilian/or a version of Spiderman for this idea to work?

My fellow peeps I introduce to you Earth 2099 Miguel O'Hara x  Villain/Alchemax worker/Morally Grey scientist Reader!

I can kinda see this playing out in a few ways.

1.)Villain reader investigating the strange phenomenon that occurred a couple months before hacking the multi verse and stirring up trouble. Miguel intervenes and takes what he wants.

For the last year since the bizarre phenomenon in downtown Brooklyn you've been stirring up more trouble than you typical due to collecting the materials needed for your "experiments" to figure out what that phenomenon really was and what the hell was Alchemax —your ex-employers— were up to with your research. With some finessing of the illegal kind you figure out what the corporation was up to. Before being fired you had discovered the existence of the multiverse however before you could investigate any further you were let go. Now that you have your research back you're able to Doc Octo this shit and break into the multiverse. If you could pull this off nothing was stopping ya' from fulfilling yer goal and maybe scoring some fame while you were at it. After some convoluted ass science mumbojumbo. You manage to Doc Octo this shit and break into the dimensional web that held the spider verse. Inside the alternate universe you immediately start messing up shit straight off the back as soon as you fly through the colorful portal. Miguel is quick to pick up on this anomaly and sends some Spiders out to handle the issue. Long story short— they fail. Forcing Miguel's hand to go and correct the anomaly himself. Only to find that it was you. Her. His dead wife/or dead lover. The only problem is that you're obviously not a good guy. Miguel being Miguel will try to rationalize it to himself as he demolishes your equipment/suit that you're not his Y/n, you're a villain, he can't keep you without risking a whole universe just for his selfish desires. However as he stood over your defeated helpless form. He decided. If one anomaly can exist and not destroy existence why can't another? There were ways around this. There had to be. Holding you in his grasp again the hero wasn't sure if he could let you go once again....

2.) You're an inventor/scientist that works at Alchemax/or your another rogue scientist . Either way you're looking to get into the Spider verse. Since the phenomenon from a couple months ago you've been intrigued by the strange occurrence. The news labeled it a "strange weather occurrence" however you knew that wasn't the case. If you're working at Alchemax you've known about the phenomenon since the beginning. If you're an inventor/scientist (with some grey morals) you found out after some research and trespassing. Either way your tinkering pays off thanks to the help of some stolen tech from Alchemax and an interesting glitch from the hacked tech. You eventually have yourself a fully operational universe hopping watch. And where do you end up? Right in the middle of Earth 2099. Miguel is immediately alerted of your presence. An obvious stranger to this Jetson world you find yourself quickly apprehended by a small group of spiders/or Miguel. Either way the red & blue leotard nosferatu as soon as he catches sight of you the dude is all over you. Miguel may be a man who would like to believe he is in control of himself and his rash decisions buuuuttt that's gonna be a nah. Never had the Spiderman ever expected to speak to an alternate version of his dead wife. Especially in person. Every time he's stolen a glance it was from a distance or behind one of his various monitors. He couldn't risk ruining another verse. However somehow regardless of his attempts to keep his desires at bay you've still managed to break past that last thing that was keeping you from him. Now that you're here the thirty year old wasn't sure if he could let you leave him again...

3.) What if instead of breaking into the multi verse. Alchemax employee/Morally Grey scientist Reader! is lured into the multiverse? In your home verse the Miguel who you had married was dead. Struggling with piling debt and depression you choose to bury your problems under research into the weird phenomenon that occurred in downtown Brooklyn a few months before. During this time of trial and error you figure out how to access the multiverse thanks to some misplaced Alchemax files and risky choices. The documents aid in building the device that would aid in your plan to find your ex-husband's alternate universe copy. All the while you were walking right into Miguel's clutches. Cause like you Miguel was having an equally hard time getting over his family's death. Although they are gone the widowed father couldn't help but, search for his loved ones amongst the various worlds that rest at his finger tips. He needed them. He needed you....and you needed him. Although you guys weren't from the same earth you both can replace the pain that was birthed from this tragedy and regain something more. Just be a family.... Hopefully you want to play his game because Miguel couldn't watch from the sidelines any longer.

Alrighty guys that's all for now! Sorry if they're a little all over the place. Regardless I hope you guys liked them and I hope you guys have a good week!

[shadowkoo]

Chasing Clouds - Prologue

→ Summary: Namjoon made the decision early on in his training that he would abstain from dating or entering any form of relationship while in active duty. He’s determined not to burden anyone with the likelihood of being to be notified of his death or causing pain to someone he loves by his long absence. Ironically, he found himself drawn to you, a doctor who challenges his beliefs and contradicts everything he upholds.

↠ namjoon x f.reader | 1k words | 18+ ↠ genre: military au, angst (future chapters include: doctor au, s2l, slow burn, smut, fluff, romance

��� Warnings: Read at your own risk! war, ptsd, bombs, guns, violence, injury, death, blood, (future warnings include: murder, use of other weapons, smut warnings)

→ Author Note: my favorite kdrama of all time is descendants of the sun and in honor of my fifth rewatch, I wanted to write this series! it takes place about a year after the show ends, just so you know the timeline :) i would recommend that you watch it first, but it’s not a requirement - it just gives insight to some of the character's personalities (plus i’ll take any opportunity to tell people to watch it lol)

Prologue

MAY 02 - 0340 - USTANA

The darkness of the night feels heavy; its weight is unsettling as the soldiers start their most recent assignment. Namjoon has an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. It’s twisting and turning like never before. He isn’t usually nervous before missions; he hasn’t had a reason to be. He's always followed through and completed his tasks without issue; which is one of the main reasons everyone has such high hopes for him.

Tonight is different though, and he knows the others have the same odd feeling as they all take off their dog tags and set them aside. If captured, they need to remain anonymous.

"You guys know the drill. Once we locate the hostage, everyone will need to be attentive because it'll only be a matter of time until the whole building knows it's been breached. This isn't another exercise boys, lives are at stake here,” Big Boss, Captain Yoo Shijin, says to his team of special force soldiers.

"As this is the last mission of your training term, I expect nothing but excellence in your delivery of the hostage. We've orchestrated the specifics of this mission in such a way that will prove whether or not you are cut for these types of diplomatic high-profile assignments," Wolf, Big Bosses best friend Seo Daeyoung, adds.

"Whatever you do, don't compromise the mission. Don’t use your birth name to communicate, use the nicknames you were given, as well as ours," Big Boss hollers, finishing off their short speech as the back door of the aircraft opened.

Ustana, the country they’re secretly entering, is known for its drug and weapons problem due to its corrupt government. If things end badly, it will reflect on Korea. That’s why the team’s identities and nationalities can’t be known.

The plane jolts, narrowly missing the projectile that was aimed at the steel bird in the sky, solidifying the seriousness of the current situation below.

Namjoon repeats his orders to keep some level of sanity and peace of mind as he descended from the sky with the rest of the Puppy Pack, the soldiers in training to join the Alpha Team.

‘Find the hostage. Mislead the enemy. Return home. Stay alive.’

Once on the ground, he waits for the signal to ambush the guards watching the doors and proceeds to lead the group. Shijin and Daeyoung follow behind with the rest of the soldiers at their feet.

Daeyoung nods, giving Namjoon the go-ahead to align his gun on the enemy. This is the part he often tunes out. You need to be able to turn the switch, as he calls it, on and off with this kind of job.

He aligns his scope with the target and quickly pulls the trigger before moving to the others nearby before they even realize what’s happening. He watches as their bodies drop, waiting to see if anyone else runs into the room, but it’s quiet. Almost too quiet…

"Wildcat, All clear,” he says into his mic, letting the others know their access point is now safe for entry.

‘Find the hostage. Mislead the enemy. Return home. Stay alive.’

It takes less than two minutes for the group of highly trained soldiers to find the hostage. He’s badly beaten and unconscious, his body hunched over in the chair he’s tied to.

Wolf keeps watch by the side door while the team works on releasing the man. Jihoon, another one of the Puppy Pack trainees, helps Namjoon carry the man back to where the transport aircraft is waiting.

“I don’t want to jinx anything, but that was almost too easy…” Jihoon says, looking at Namjoon.

He agrees. Something’s not adding up…

He peers through the open door of the transport helicopter, gazing outside. They’re waiting for the last of the group to make their way onto the craft, and he just wants to ensure that everyone is safe. His shoulders relax when he can see their dark forms exiting the building.

Namjoon turns to look back at Jihoon, “I see them, they’re-” his sentence ends unfinished.

“What is that?” he says, taking a step closer to the unconscious hostage that Jihoon and a combat medic are helping. He points out the red blinking light on the man’s neck. It’s not a laser from a gun. It’s coming from inside his skin. ‘It’s almost as if…’ His thought trails off. “Run!” he screams, though it’s too late.

The bomb’s detonation rips through the helicopter, unleashing an intense burst of energy. In an instant, the searing shockwave propels fragments of debris outward. The air vibrates with a deafening roar, drowning out all other sounds.

The chaotic energy tears apart surroundings and scatters the remnants in all directions. A plume of smoke and fire billows upward, consuming everything in its path. The impact leaves a scene of devastation, marked by shattered glass, twisted metal, and a sense of raw destruction.

Namjoon feels the force of the explosion in his chest and is thrown far from his comrade, and debris crashes around him. His head bounces against the ground, and the ringing in his ears is so intense, he believes he will never hear again.

Jihoon is several feet away. His eyes are frozen open, and blood trails down his face from the head injury he suffers from. Namjoon reaches for his lifeless friend but it’s all too much.

Then, everything fades to black.

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