#and then they realised that they were closer to the offices than to my flat

[vaginalvr]

ok so the reader is in LOVE with spencer and everyone knows it but spencer rejects her in the harshest way possible but later gets jealous and realises his feelings when he sees reader with another guy. it can end with smut ( wink, wink 😉 ).

content warning: Oral sex (f. receiving), vaginal sex, light roughness (wall/table sex, harder thrusting), explicit language and descriptions.

a/n: i really tried to branch out with my writing style to make it a little, idek intellectually challanging to read???? also did you notice that my intro isn't colorful anymore? lmk

word count ~ 1.4k

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

The worst part wasn’t that Spencer Reid rejected you.

It was how he did it.

You stood in the BAU breakroom with your heart clutched in your throat, your hands trembling slightly as you offered him the carefully folded note you’d debated giving him for weeks. It wasn’t a dramatic confession—just a quiet, simple truth written on paper because the words stuck in your throat every time you looked into those kind, analytical eyes.

He read it in three seconds flat. Blinked once. Then said, without even looking up, “You shouldn’t waste your time on people who don’t feel the same.”

The silence that followed was deafening. The words crushed you like glass underfoot—cold, sharp, and cutting deeper with every breath you tried to take.

You didn’t cry. Not then.

But the next morning, you came in smiling like it hadn’t happened. Like you hadn’t spent the entire night replaying his words until they etched themselves into your bones. You were fine. You kept telling yourself that until it started to feel almost believable.

Almost.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the team to notice.

Morgan softened around you. JJ gave you too many meaningful looks. Penelope pulled you into her office for long, rambling pep talks about self-worth and soulmates.

Even Hotch said your name more gently than usual.

But Spencer? He acted like nothing had changed. And that somehow made everything worse.

So, you moved on.

Or pretended to.

The guy from counter-terrorism—Eli��was easy on the eyes, charming in that cocky, I-bet-he’s-great-in-bed way. You let him flirt with you in the hallway. You laughed a little too loudly at his jokes. And one Friday after work, you let him take you out for drinks.

You didn’t expect Spencer to care.

You certainly didn’t expect him to glare across the bar like he wanted to kill Eli with his mind.

But that’s exactly what happened.

It was a BAU outing, and you were perched at the bar, Eli’s hand casually resting on your lower back as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. You laughed—because you were trying, trying to feel anything but the ache Spencer had left behind—and when you turned to look at him, Spencer was staring at you with eyes that had gone dark and unreadable.

He was furious.

You blinked, startled, but he looked away as quickly as he’d looked at you. You pretended not to notice when he left early.

He didn’t speak to you for days.

You thought maybe you’d finally crossed some invisible line. That whatever bridge remained between you had burned to ash.

Then, on a late Thursday night, you found yourself working alone in the briefing room, flipping through profiles in a haze of exhaustion. The lights were dim, your coffee had gone cold, and your legs ached from sitting in the same position for hours.

You didn’t even hear the door open.

“Why him?” Spencer’s voice broke the quiet like a crack of thunder.

You looked up, startled. He stood in the doorway, his hair slightly disheveled, his tie loose, his chest rising and falling too quickly for someone who supposedly didn’t care.

“Why him, of all people?” he repeated, stepping closer.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

Spencer’s jaw clenched. “Eli. The guy from counter-terrorism. You let him touch you like you don’t know who’s watching.”

Your breath caught.

Something flickered in his eyes. Anger. Possession. Regret.

“You said I shouldn’t waste my time,” you said flatly, heart thudding. “I listened.”

“That was a mistake.”

You froze.

Spencer took another step forward, voice low and raw. “I thought I was protecting you. From me. From what it would mean if I said yes. But then I saw him touching you and—” He exhaled sharply. “And I wanted to rip his fucking hand off.”

The silence that followed was like a string pulled taut between you.

“I’m in love with you,” you said quietly, not flinching this time. “Even after what you said. I’m still in love with you.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Not when he crossed the room in three long strides, not when he cupped your face with trembling hands, not when he kissed you like he was drowning in everything he’d tried to deny.

It wasn’t sweet.

It was desperate.

You gasped into his mouth as he backed you against the wall, lips fierce and unforgiving, hands sliding down your body with shaking restraint.

“You don’t get to do this,” you whispered, but even as you said it, you were tugging at his shirt, your voice breaking. “You don’t get to break me and then decide you want me.”

“I know,” he breathed against your jaw. “I know. I’m sorry. Let me—please—let me make it right.”

His mouth trailed to your throat, then lower, unbuttoning your blouse with fevered urgency. You weren’t even sure how your skirt ended up bunched around your hips, or when he dropped to his knees in front of you, his breath hot against the inside of your thigh.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, reverent, almost pained. “You always have been.”

Then his mouth was on you, and all thoughts of heartbreak scattered like dust.

You braced against the wall, fingers tangled in his hair, hips twitching forward as his tongue circled your clit with maddening precision. You cried out his name—once, twice—until he groaned against you and slid two fingers inside, curling them just right.

“Spencer,” you whimpered. “I’m gonna—”

He didn’t stop. Didn’t want to. He worked you through it, licking and stroking until your legs were shaking and your mind was blank with pleasure.

When you finally opened your eyes, he was already standing, already unbuckling his belt with a heat in his gaze that made your breath catch.

“I need you,” he said, voice rough. “Tell me I can have you.”

You nodded, dazed, and he spun you around, bending you over the conference table like he couldn’t wait another second.

When he slid inside, you both gasped—his hands gripping your hips, your cheek pressed to the cool wood, the stretch of him grounding you in the best way.

“You feel—fuck—so good,” he groaned, thrusting deep.

You arched into him, pushing back. “Harder.”

He obeyed, fucking you with growing intensity, the sounds of skin meeting skin filling the dark room. One hand wrapped around your waist, the other slid between your thighs to circle your clit again. It was too much. It was perfect.

You came again with a broken moan, and he followed seconds later, spilling inside you with a harsh gasp, his body collapsing over yours.

For a long moment, you just breathed.

Then, softly, his lips brushed your shoulder.

“I love you,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I’ve always loved you.”

You turned your head, met his eyes. “You’re damn lucky I still want to hear that.”

A small, rueful smile tugged at his lips. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it.”

[4m0r1m]

Closed Doors was delicious, write more for House one day and my life is yours, you absolute angel 🙏🙏

Til Death Do Us Part

SUMMARY: When House notices the subtle cracks in his wife's bright facade, he can't ignore them.

WORD COUNT: 2,439 words

PAIRING: greg house x wife!reader

WARNINGS: angsty angsty (sorry😭)

The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly as House leaned against the wall of his office, tossing a worn tennis ball into the air and catching it in one deft hand. Through the glass walls, he watched her—his wife—laughing with one of the interns. Her head thrown back, her entire frame animated with that familiar, infuriating energy that first made him fall for her.

But something wasn’t right.

He caught the ball mid-air, frowning. She was laughing too hard. Too brightly. A beat too long before she steadied herself, hand fluttering briefly to the side of her head. Not the first time he noticed it. Not the first time he chalked it up to exhaustion, or the hospital wearing her down. Yet, House had a nose for lies. Even unspoken ones.

Later, when she sat at their shared desk in the flat, a stack of children’s charts spread before her, he caught her blinking rapidly, as if trying to clear her vision. Her hand trembled when she reached for her tea.

House said nothing. Not yet.

He started running tests behind her back the very next day.

Nothing major at first—blood work, basic scans, subtle prodding during casual conversations masked as teasing. She laughed him off, told him he was getting soft in his old age, caring too much. He retorted with some snide comment about how British women probably enjoyed seeing their husbands panic. She threw a pillow at his head.

But deep down, House was gnawing on a bone he couldn’t put down.

Something was wrong.

Something he couldn’t diagnose by sarcasm alone.

It took him a week. A brutal, sleepless, Vicodin-laced week of cross-referencing every symptom she didn't even realise she was showing. When the preliminary results landed on his desk, he didn't even read them at first—just stared at the thick envelope like it was ticking.

Finally, he ripped it open.

Cancer.

The word punched the air from his lungs, even as his brain kicked into clinical overdrive. He scanned every line, every marker, but nowhere did it say where exactly the cancer was lodged. Just that it was there. Hiding. Growing.

He needed Wilson.

No—he needed answers.

He found her on the paediatrics floor, perched on the edge of a hospital bed, coaxing a giggle out of a pale, freckled boy with a toy stethoscope. She looked radiant. She looked fine.

House's stomach twisted.

He waited until she finished, then intercepted her outside the ward.

“Got a sec, Doc McCheery?”

She grinned, mock saluting. “Only if you’re here to hand-deliver my 'World’s Best Doctor' mug.”

“Something better.” His voice was light but his eyes were steel. “A mystery.”

She cocked her head, blonde hair catching the light. “Oh, go on then. Solve it, Sherlock.”

House stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You’re sick.”

Her smile faltered, barely, but it was enough for him to see it.

He pressed on. “I’ve run your blood work. You’re throwing off tumour markers. Something’s growing inside you.”

She rolled her eyes, but he didn’t miss the flicker of panic. “Honestly, Greg, you’re worse than my mum.”

“We’ll have Wilson run some more scans,” he continued, relentless. “Get a full body PET. Find out where it’s hiding.”

“No.”

The word was sharp. Final.

House blinked. “No?”

She crossed her arms, forcing a laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re overreacting. It’s probably a false positive. Stress, maybe. God knows I’m married to enough of it.”

House’s jaw clenched. “You’re lying.”

She stepped back, defensive, playful tone gone. “Drop it, House.”

“Like hell I will.” His voice rose, drawing a few glances from passing nurses. He didn’t care. “You think I’m just going to stand there while you—while you—”

“What? Die?” she snapped, suddenly furious. “Grow up.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

House stared at her, breathing hard. “You know.”

It wasn’t a question.

She looked away, blinking rapidly again. “Yeah,” she said hoarsely. “I know.”

House closed his eyes for a second, as if that could erase the moment. “Since when?”

“Few weeks.”

“WEEKS?” His cane thudded against the wall as he turned in frustration. “And you didn’t think to tell your husband?”

“What for?” she shot back. “So you could dissect me like one of your bloody puzzles? You think I wanted to become your latest case study?”

“You ARE my case study, dammit!” he barked. “You’re my wife!”

She swiped angrily at a tear threatening to spill. “I’m your wife, Greg, not your patient. I get to choose.”

House advanced on her, voice low and dangerous. “You’re choosing to die.”

She laughed bitterly. “Yeah, well, not much of a choice, is it?”

House gritted his teeth. “Wilson can start treatment. There’s still time.”

“No.”

Her voice cracked.

“No chemo. No endless scans. No months of vomiting and losing my hair and becoming a ghost before your eyes. I’m not doing that.”

House stared at her, aghast. “You stubborn, infuriating—”

“It’s brain cancer, Greg.” She said it too fast, like tearing off a plaster. “It’s already spread. There’s nothing to treat.”

The words hung between them, thick and suffocating.

Brain cancer.

Terminal.

House swallowed hard, throat dry. For the first time in years, he felt utterly, completely helpless.

She stepped closer, softer now. “I don’t want to spend what’s left being prodded and poked and sick. I want to live.” Her fingers brushed his. “With you. As me.”

House stared at her hand on his, his mind reeling.

Live.

As her.

Not as some hollowed-out version.

He squeezed her fingers, just once.

And for once, House had no smart-ass reply. No sarcastic retort.

Just grief, raw and gnawing, wrapping its claws around his ribs.

They barely spoke on the drive home.

House gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary, knuckles whitening with every mile. She sat curled against the window, cheek pressed to the cool glass, silent. Normally she filled car rides with chatter, teasing him about his music taste or criticising his driving.

Now, just silence.

He hated it.

When they reached their building, she moved ahead, keys jangling weakly in her hand. House limped after her, cane tapping the stairwell floor, every step heavier than the last.

Their flat smelled like old books and the faint citrus of her shampoo.

Home.

It was supposed to feel like safety. Tonight, it felt like a countdown.

She dropped her bag at the door and peeled off her jacket, moving sluggishly. House watched her, searching for something to anchor himself. Some way to fix this.

“Do you want tea?” she asked, voice too bright, brittle.

He barked a humourless laugh. “Yeah. That’ll cure the cancer.”

She flinched, barely, but recovered quickly. “Well, if not, at least it’ll shut you up for five minutes.”

House’s chest ached.

This—this—was how they coped. Sarcasm layered over fear like armour. They had built their marriage on it.

He let her make the tea.

Let her pretend.

She set his mug in front of him, hands trembling slightly, and sat opposite at the small kitchen table. Her sleeves were pushed up, revealing the delicate twist of her wrists, the veins he knew too well.

House stared at her.

So alive. So herself.

And yet.

“How long?” he asked quietly.

She traced the rim of her mug with one finger. “They gave me six months. Maybe a year, if I’m stubborn enough.”

He snorted, despite himself. “You? Stubborn? Shocking.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across her lips. “Said I could beat the record if I pissed off enough people.”

His throat closed up.

He set the mug down too hard, spilling tea across the table. Neither of them moved to wipe it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, softer now, almost pleading.

She shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t want you to look at me like—” she waved vaguely at the air between them, “—like that.”

“Like what?” he rasped.

“Like I’m already dead.”

House rubbed his face with one hand, feeling years older. “I’m a bastard, not a corpse sniffer.”

She laughed, a broken, beautiful sound. “Could’ve fooled me.”

The silence stretched, heavy, but not empty.

Finally, she spoke.

“I’ve made peace with it, Greg. I need you to.”

House shook his head, sharp and stubborn. “I don’t make peace. I make enemies. Death’s on the list.”

She reached across the table, curling her hand around his. “You can’t fix this.”

House’s fingers twitched.

Fixing things was what he did. Diagnosing, cutting, poisoning, healing—forcing the body to obey him through sheer willpower and spite.

But not this.

Not her.

Her hand was warm. Solid. Real.

He clung to it like a man clinging to a ledge.

“What do you want, then?” he asked hoarsely. “A world tour? Skydiving? Trip to Disneyland?”

She snorted. “You on a rollercoaster would definitely kill me quicker.”

House squeezed her hand, hard enough to make her wince.

“Just you,” she whispered. “Just time. Just... us.”

He bowed his head, forehead pressing against the back of her hand.

“Okay,” he said, voice breaking. “Okay.”

That night, he couldn’t sleep.

She dozed beside him, soft breaths against his shoulder, hair fanned across the pillow like a halo. He watched her for hours, memorising the slope of her nose, the way her lashes fluttered when she dreamed.

Every detail was a lifeline and a knife.

At some point, she stirred, finding him awake.

“Greg,” she murmured sleepily, “if you don’t stop brooding, I’ll die of boredom before the cancer gets me.”

He huffed a laugh, rough with unshed tears.

“Come here,” she ordered, tugging at his arm.

He shifted, wincing at the stiffness in his leg, and let her curl against him, head tucked under his chin. Her hand splayed across his chest, fingers idly tapping a rhythm only she knew.

“Love you, you miserable sod,” she mumbled into his shirt.

House closed his eyes.

He’d never been good at saying it back. Not easily. But tonight, he needed her to know.

“Love you too, you bossy Brit,” he said thickly.

She smiled against him, and for a moment, it was almost easy to believe that morning would come like any other. That time wasn’t slipping through their fingers like sand.

Weeks passed.

They didn’t talk about treatments again. Didn’t whisper about hope or miracles. She refused hospitals, refused sympathy. She worked as long as she could, still lighting up the children’s ward with her reckless, infectious energy.

But House saw the changes.

The headaches that left her pale and trembling. The slurred words. The moments where she stared at nothing, lost in the fog.

He fought every instinct to rush her to a hospital.

Because she asked him to let her live.

Because he loved her too much not to.

Some nights she was strong enough to mock him, to tease him about his cooking, his Vicodin stash, his permanent scowl. Other nights, she cried in his arms, scared and furious and small in a way she never let anyone else see.

He held her through it all.

And every day, House hated the universe a little more.

Hated how something so brilliant, so bright, could be snuffed out by something as stupid as rogue cells multiplying in her brain.

One evening, she sat on the battered old sofa, a woollen blanket draped over her lap, sipping hot chocolate. Her hair was thinner now, her skin papery, but her smile—God, her smile—still stopped his heart.

“Greg,” she said suddenly, serious.

He looked up from his medical journal.

“When I go,” she said, “I want you to do something.”

He closed the journal slowly. “If this involves taxidermy, I’m out.”

She laughed weakly. “No. I want you to be happy.”

House stared at her.

“You’re allowed,” she whispered. “After. You’re allowed to love again. To be alive.”

House’s mouth twisted. “There’s no after.”

She leaned forward, touching his knee. “Promise me.”

“I don’t make promises.”

She just smiled.

And somehow, House knew he would spend the rest of his life trying to keep that one.

A/N: I don't know if I'm an angel anymore😭😭I'm sorry guys I just had this idea but I'll do some fluff maybe tomorrow....

Hope you guys like it!💗

[sorrowful-wallflower]

Disappear - @into-the-jeggyverse - 874 words

James grabbed another can of spray paint, shaking it before outlining the next part of his drawing. Regulus was kneeling by the corner of the wall, finishing his own piece of artwork. It had been a while since James had done this, and he'd forgotten how much he enjoyed it. That was until he heard the sirens. He groaned and finished up the last bit before throwing the can in his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. When he turned around to tell Regulus it was time to go, he was nowhere to be seen.

"Fucking traitor," James muttered before he took off around the corner.

He slowed down when he was sure he was far enough away from the scene to claim that he didn't know anything. That was until he rounded the corner and ran smack dab into a police officer, who threw him against the wall.

"Not so fast," they remarked, pinning James with his arms behind his back. "What do we have here?"

The officer took the bag and handed it off to their partner. James struggled against the first officer's hold, looking around for an escape route. He couldn't go back to jail. The second officer dug in the bag, pulling out can after can of spray paint.

"That's not mine," James said desperately. "Some guy gave it to me and ran away."

"I'm sure they did," the second officer said sarcastically. "Just like I'm sure there won't be any new 'art' down the street by the park either. Right?"

"How would I know?" James scoffed. "I was just walking home before my mother killed me for being late... again," he replied with a slight waver to his voice. "Please, you have to let me go."

"That's not going to happen," the first officer said coldly before slapping the cuffs around James' wrists and dragging him back to the squad car, setting him inside. "We got a report of someone matching your description vandalising the local church."

"Why would I do that? I'm not stupid," he pleaded, sitting up in the back of the car.

It took James a second to realise the second officer was Hispanic, and he prayed that he was raised somewhat the same as himself.

"Seriously, you have to let me go," James begged, tears started to run down his cheeks. "Have you ever been on the wrong side of a Hispanic mother while she's holding a chancla? She'll beat me to death if I'm not home for dinner."

As soon as he mentioned his mother again, the officer holding his bag flinched slightly, and James had to school his features quickly before they noticed. The two officers looked at each other for a few seconds, seemingly having a silent conversation.

"Please."

The second officer sighed. "What's your name?"

"Diego. Diego Ramierz," James lied easily.

If he were closer to his hometown, he wouldn't have been able to lie, but he wasn't, and these officers had never seen him before. If he gave his real name though, he would have been fucked.

"I'll let you off with a warning this time, but if I catch you again, you're gonna take a ride to the station," the Hispanic officer said, gesturing for James to scoot out of the car and uncuffing him. "Understand?"

"Yes, sir," James replied, rubbing his wrists. "Thank you."

He stepped onto the sidewalk and watched as the officers got back in their car and drove away, with his bag, but he wasn't going to say anything about that.

"Pinche idiotas," James muttered as he headed in the opposite direction, wiping the tears off his cheeks.

It took him longer than he would have wanted to get back to his flat, if it could even be called that. It was more like an abandoned building that he and his boyfriend had been squatting in until they figured out something better. James refused to go back to his foster parents' house. He shoved the door open hard, slamming it against the wall before he hollered into the space.

"Regulus! You fucking asshole!"

"Oh, thank god," Regulus replied when he came around the corner. "I thought you were a goner."

"Yeah, no thanks to you." James scoffed. "You fucking disappeared on me."

"Sorry. I couldn't risk getting caught. They would have sent me back to my parents."

"A little warning would have been nice, you know." James threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "But no, I got caught instead. I was this close to going back to jail."

"Your fingers are touching."

"I know!"

James glared at him for a second before trudging over to the dirty, broken couch and plopping down, dust flying everywhere. James coughed as he fanned it away from him.

"How'd you get away then?" Regulus asked curiously, joining him on the couch.

James' lips quirked up slightly. "I told them my mother would kill me if I were late for dinner."

Regulus furrowed his brows, tilting his head to the side.

"Isn't your mum dead?"

"What's your point?" James asked with a shrug.

Regulus shook his head in amusement. "I swear, you could probably get away with murder if you wanted to."

"Who says I haven't?"

[midnight-bay-if]

What would be the ROs' reaction if the MC gave them a rose dipped in gold on Valentine's Day? Saying "May our love be eternal as this rose" as they give it to them.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, these roses do exist, as demonstrated below:

(Cute! A flower without the allergies! Also, I'm sorry for the delay in this ask and all the others; I hope this makes up for it. I've been dedicating much of my time to getting a version of chapter 4 ready for Patreon. I also felt like maybe people were sick of seeing me on their timelines, haha.)

S: They click away at their computer, cursing the machine's inability to keep up with their demands, when they hear a knock on their office door.

“Enter,” they greet half-heartedly, the remaining half of their focus remaining on the frozen screen.

“Am I disturbing you?”

The moment your voice sings through the crack in the door, the frustration ebbs away into an easy smile as they turn in their chair to offer you their full attention. “A pleasant surprise indeed, darling, and exactly what I need.”

You smile. “Working hard?”

“Working quickly,” they reply, slightly dejected, “or trying to, at least. I had hoped to have wrapped everything up by now. There’s some rather significant dinner plans I have booked for later.”

“Oh? With anyone important?” you tease.

“The most important.” They coax you a little closer so you are standing between their thighs, and they wrap their arms around your legs, gazing up at you affectionately. “Was there something you needed before our date tonight, darling?”

It’s only then that they notice the long box tucked behind your back. “What’s this?” they ask, gesturing to it when you place it on their desk in front of them.

“Something I couldn’t wait to give you.”

They smile softly before opening the box. Their eyes widen upon seeing the gold-dipped rose accompanied by a note that reads, ‘May our love be as eternal as this rose.’ Overwhelmed by the sentiment, they lean their forehead against your stomach, concealing the tears that threaten to spill.

“I’m yours,” they whisper, a solemn vow they plead for the chance to live up to. “I’ll always be yours.”

Rain: Everything had to be perfect. The choice of film, the snacks, the blankets to tuck yourselves into to ward off the February chill, and the banner… the banner… They stare up at the gaudy banner hung across your curtain pole, decorated with bright red hearts, with their lips pursed. Is it too much? Taj told them to tear it down when they flung it up, but Taj isn’t romantic. So, what would they know?

It’s fine. It looks great. Right?

Too late to worry about it anyway. You’ll be home anytime for your homebrewed movie date, accompanied by snacks and cuddling.

“Rain?”

They scoop you up the moment you walk in, their arms wrapped tightly around your waist before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” It’s only when you return the hug, and the box you were carrying nudges against their back, that they notice it at all.

“What’s this?” they ask, barely able to contain their excitement. You hand them the perfectly gift-wrapped gift, and they quickly tear it open, laying it down flat on the nearby dining table so they can open it more carefully than the wrapping.

‘May our love be as eternal as this rose.’

Rain looks at the card with tears in their eyes, then drops it back down. They gently remove the rose from the box and hold it up to the light. As the light shines against the gold, the realisation of how precious, delicate, yet everlasting it is, becomes overwhelming. After returning it to the safety of its box, not yet trusting they can keep it safe in their hands, they turn back to you, taking your hands in theirs as delicately as they held the rose, and press a kiss to each knuckle. “You are precious to me. There will never be anyone else; I hope you know that. It’s just you.”

Taj: They hate Valentine’s Day. It’s an excuse for couples to fawn, to be materialistic, and to insincerely declare one another the love of their lives, only to break up six months later and go hunting for someone to be their partner for the next. Or, at least, that is how they used to view it before they met you.

It wasn’t even a day they marked on the calendar, and they gladly let it slip by without a second thought. Even in a store, if they walked past the newly added section filled with heart-shaped balloons, flowers, and bright cards filled with cheesy lines of gratuitous affection, they barely afforded them a second glance.

This time was different. They spent half of the day down that one aisle, reading every potential card, mulling over every flower, and picking up and putting down a myriad of different balloons, chocolates, and gift ideas, all while on the phone to Selby, determined to try and make something of this day but having no idea where to start.

They want you to feel special. They want you to understand how much you have changed their life. But nothing about any of this seemed right, and they had already left everything until the last minute.

In the end, it was you who salvaged the day.

You present the box dressed in a delicate bow, and they pull it open with dread, knowing their efforts will most likely not live up to yours. And they don’t. They never could.

The delicate rose with the words ‘may our love be as eternal as this rose’ instantly captures their heart and mind, and their earlier disdain for the frivolousness of the day ceases to exist… because this promise feels real. It feels like a commitment.

“Taj?”

They avert their gaze to prevent you from glimpsing the tears in their eyes. “You better mean that, Koel, because you’re stuck with me now. I’m not going anywhere.”

N: Demon celebrations of Valentine’s Day align more closely with the origins of the human holiday, which include blood sacrifice, whipping, and coupling driven by promiscuity rather than genuine affection. There is very little romance involved. They are far more interested in what the holiday has become; chocolate, rose petals, and floral scents are much more palatable than the butchering of animals used as leather whips… although they wouldn’t necessarily reject the whip.

They had fun planning an evening for the two of you—an excuse for both of you to dress up and make every other couple green with envy as they take in your immaculate visage, donning the brand-new jewellery set they refined for you and conversing for hours while basking in one another’s company: the perfect evening.

The box you push across the table towards them is a surprise. They hadn’t been expecting anything; other than your company, there wasn't a single other thing they could need. Or so they thought.

‘May our love be as eternal as this rose.’

They read the note, gaze at the rose, and in a rare turn of events, they are speechless. The spiteful voice in their head threatens to make an appearance. What sort of promise is this? Do you truly feel so little self-worth that you would be willing to hitch your wagon to this particularly abominable, albeit bedazzled, workhorse? Mercifully, they keep their tongue bitten, allowing the silence to supplement how they genuinely feel… which is love. They feel love. No nasty interjection is going to ruin how precious that is.

They kiss you. Harshly. Thoroughly. Slipping their tongue into your mouth and breathing in the whimper it elicits.

When they finally pull away, they don’t go far, pressing their forehead against yours so your breath still mingles. “I hope you plan to live as long as demons do, my dear. I’m making plans for centuries in the future; I expect you to be there beside me.”

Umbra: It was N who brought it up to them first. How did you plan to spend your Valentine’s Day? However, the comment was so wrapped in innuendo that Umbra immediately tuned it out. They thought it must be some salacious practice only the most flagrant could enjoy, and since you hadn’t brought it up to them yourself, they quickly forgot the demon’s lewd comments. That was until they watched a romantic comedy with Rain on one particularly lonely, rainy evening when you had gone out for work reasons and suggested they pass the time with a movie, promising to return before the credits.

When the protagonist confessed their love to their blushing partner with a bouquet of red roses on Valentine’s Day, Umbra’s cold heart thawed a little, and they swallowed the lump in their throat before turning to Rain to ask for more information.

So, this is how Umbra ended up lying on a blanket in a field surrounded by red poppies, with an attempt at sandwiches, cheese, crackers and a bottle of wine (Selby’s suggestion) and wondering if they got a thing correct.

But you are smiling. Even if it is a little shoddy, and even if you are being attacked by bugs every other minute, you are smiling. And Umbra wishes they could bottle up that feeling to savour for every moment they cannot be by your side.

“I have something for you, too.”

You present the box, and Umbra's face cracks into a rare smile of their own.

‘May our love be as eternal as this rose.’

Yes. They want it. Eternally. It’s all they have ever wanted, and they fear the reality. But for this single moment, for this snapshot in time, they will envision forever with you, and maybe, just maybe, if they wish it hard enough, it will become real.

“Forever with you will never feel long enough.”

[dragoncopper]

The Apparition - Continued.

A/N: Please read The Apparition first, if you haven’t already, or this won’t really make sense. 

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x female Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5475

Warnings: Major character death, crying, sadness, suicide, smut, fluff

Link to The Apparition

Read the whole thing on A03 here.

 You

The diagnosis was unexpected. 

You sat in the doctor’s office while she was telling you about it, and you felt shaky and like your breath was not reaching your lungs and that you were kind of floating near your body, but not inhabiting it.  You heard what she was saying, and yet it was not sinking in.

You felt nervous and afraid.  You did not know how you were supposed to feel.  How you were supposed to process the information?  How were you going to explain it to him?

Driving back home you took it slow, no music.  You needed the silence to be able to not feel overwhelmed and overstimulated.  You dreaded seeing his face now.  His reaction scared you more than any of the realities of the situation ever could.  You wanted to protect him from this more than you wanted to save yourself. 

You were sitting on the couch staring off into the distance for a while, you don’t really know how long, before you felt him appear.  He smiled at you and came closer and soon he realised that you were not yourself and he sat down next to you.  You felt the familiar dip next to you. 

‘What happened?’ he asked his voice immediately worried.

You were quiet trying to decide which words to use.  He placed his large hand on your lower back in a gesture of comfort and you felt the heat of it through your shirt. 

‘I am… I have cancer,’ you say, your voice flat, but you needed it all out as quickly as possible.  ‘It already started spreading.  I…,’

‘You just had some neck pain,’ he whispers after being quiet for very long. 

‘Yeah,’ you nod.  ‘It’s in my spine.’

‘How,’ he started a sentence he did not know how to finish.  ‘It doesn’t….’

‘I’m sorry,’ you say to him. 

‘What?  Why are you sorry?’  he asked with the deepest frown on his face.

‘I know this is going to hurt you more than it’s going to hurt me,’ you say.  Looking in his eyes the emotion hits you finally. 

He shakes his head and leans in to you and holds you.  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ he whispers.  ‘What do we do?  How do we fix this?’

‘There’s not much to be done.  It has already spread all over,’ you reply into his shoulder.

‘But surely, they gave you some advice?  Some options?’

‘I can try chemotherapy.  It can slow the spread.  Maybe give me more time, but by the sounds of things there is no fixing this anymore,’ you explain.

‘But you didn’t have symptoms,’ he is trying to make sense.  ‘How, I don’t understand.’

‘I don’t either, Noah.  I am so sorry.’

‘Stop apologizing,’ he says.  He holds you quietly.  After a while you feel his breathing start to pick up and you feel it begin to shake, and hitch.  You hold him back tighter and for the first time since you have gotten the news, you feel the tears prick at your own eyes. 

‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ you say your voice small.

‘Baby,’ his voice cracking.  ‘I don’t want you to hurt.’

 Noah

It took me some time to convince her to do the chemotherapy.  She didn’t want to, arguing that it was pointless.  I argued that it gave her some more time.  Gave her more opportunities to do things and live.  I am sure that she is doing it purely for me.  But I feel we have to try. 

So, we are in the car where Nick is driving her to the hospital.

We moved a few years ago.  She made the amazing and selfless decision to move closer to Nick for my sake.  That way I could have my two people near me.  The move felt like a new beginning for us, we picked a new flat together and moved in and I had an input, and for a while we could both imagine that we were just a normal couple moving in together.

While our lives have so many strange things about it, we were so normal and everyday that I often forgot the fact that I was dead.  She loved me so fully and completely despite the fact that I couldn’t be real for her.  We were happy and delusional and had started to live in our own little world where everything was what we wanted.  This news cracked open that illusion.  Reality caught up with us.

‘You say you have snacks and something to drink?’ Nick asked ad he pulled into the parking area of the hospital.

‘Yes, Noah packed me a whole little goody bag,’ she answered him.

‘I will be here to pick you up,’ he says with small, reassuring smile.  ‘You sure you don’t want me to come?’

‘Noah is with me,’ she says.  That’s all the explanation she needed to give. 

‘I got it,’ I say to Nick.  ‘Thank you, brother.’

‘Good luck,’ Nick said somberly.

She grips my hand to the point of pain as we walk inside.  They take her to a chair with so much shit set up around it.  I stand back and watch as they connect her to all the medical equipment.  Then they slide the thick needle into her arm where the chemicals that is supposed to help her live longer will enter her body.  She doesn’t flinch.  She watches as it slides into her skin and they place a bandage over to keep it in place.  The people at the hospital were being so nice and sweet and told her to not hesitate to call them if she needed anything.  But my sweet girl seemed numb, she nodded along but her eyes were empty.  That upset me so deeply. 

When we are alone, I approach and cup her cheek.  ‘You okay?’ I whisper.

She nods.  ‘I think so,’ she gives me a small smile.  It’s barely there. 

We have to be discreet.  She cannot have a full-blown conversation with a ghost in the hospital.  So, she has a book to keep her entertained.  I sit down in front of her on the floor, she hooks one leg over my shoulder and I roll up her pant leg, and I start massaging her calf and ankles and feet.  She touches my hair every now and then, hugs me with her leg by squeezing me closer to her.  Later we swop her legs. She falls asleep at some point. 

Six hours later, Nick is waiting, smoking a cigarette by his car.  He seemed anxious.  Relief flooded his face when he sees us.  She seemed okay at this time, but I know we are in for a rough night. 

‘How was it?’  Nick asked.

‘It was great,’ she answered sarcastically. 

‘Sorry, that was a stupid question,’ he scrunches his face. 

‘No, I’m sorry.   It was okay.  It’s just really long, that was the most annoying bit,’ she slips into the car and leans back into the seat. 

Nick squeezed my shoulder.  ‘And you?’

I nod in determination.  ‘She took it like a champ.’

‘How did you take it?’  he asked.

‘It broke my heart,’ I admit quietly.

 You

‘Hey, Noah,’ you call to him.

‘Baby?’ he answers.

‘I need your help please,’ you approach him and he looks at you warily.  You take out the clippers from behind your back.  ‘It’s time.’

You can see the moment he realizes and you see the pain in his eyes.   He gets up without a word and walks closer to you and takes the clippers from your hand and then kisses you solidly on the lips.  ‘It’s not that bad yet,’ he says softly.

‘No, but a few clumps came loose in the shower and I just cannot handle it.  I need it to be over with,’ you explain.

‘Okay,’ he nods and takes your hand and he starts for the bathroom. 

‘No, can you do it in the kitchen?  I don’t want to see it in the mirror,’ you say and you feel shy about admitting that.

‘Whatever you want,’ he smiles.  When you’re in the kitchen he drags a chair closer.  You sit down and take a deep breath.  ‘You have a hair tie?’ 

‘Yeah,’ you dig the one you had out of your pocket.  ‘Why?’

‘So can keep the hair I cut together,’ he says and he gently and with so much care gathers your hair together and ties it at the back of your head. 

‘I thought I would feel sadder about this,’ you admit something to him again.

‘It’s just hair,’ he says simply.  ‘You ready?’

‘Mmm,’ and you feel him cut the hair with a scissor, you feel the weight of the hair disappear.  It takes him a moment before he holds the ponytail out to you.  You take it and hold it, run your fingers through it.  He leans over your shoulder and kisses your neck affectionately. 

‘Let me know when I should continue,’ he whispers. 

‘Now, please.’  You say, beginning to feel very anxious.  ‘Let’s get it over with.’

You hear the harsh sound of the clippers being turned on and then he starts running it over your head.  Whisps of hair fall down your back, over your shoulders, past your face and you hold your breath to not get any of it in your mouth.  It also helps to keep the tears back.  He takes his time; you feel him go over some spots to make sure its even.  When he switches the clippers off, the silence is deafening.

He runs his hand over your scalp.  ‘All done,’ he says. 

‘How does it look?’ you ask, brushing across your body to get the hair off you. 

‘It looks like you,’ you hear his voice is thick.  Both of you keep quiet for a moment, both trying to keep composure for the other one.  You busy yourselves with gathering the hair on the floor together and picking it up, using a dustpan to get the finer hairs.  When it’s all clean, he grabs your hand and pulls you to him and he wraps his arms around you.  With your face buried in his chest, you feel safe and like it will all be okay.  His tall frame is concave so he can hold you with as much of his body as he can.

‘Let’s go look,’ you say after a while and you drag him to the bathroom.  Even though you knew what you were going to see it shocks you.  ‘Jesus,’ you say immediately touching where your hair used to be. 

He is behind you nervously. 

‘I don’t hate it,’ you say after a while with a smile.  ‘It looks bad ass.’

He smiles with relief.  ‘It does,’ he agrees.  He steps closer and also touches your head.  ‘You are the most beautiful human,’ he kisses your bald head a few times and then buries his face in your neck.  You feel the wetness of his kisses and tears and pretend not to notice. 

You turn in his embrace and kiss his amazing lips.  God you will miss these lips.  You make the first move and slide your hands under his shirt and lift it up until he lets go for a moment to lift his arms so you can pull the shirt off.  You press yourself against his bare chest, immediately back to kissing him again.  He leads the way to the bed without losing contact with each other.

He lays you down and starts by climbing over you.  He kisses your stomach where the sliver of skin shows and moves your shirt up with his nose and he kisses every inch he can find.  He slides the shirt off with practiced ease and then kisses your chest, between your breasts and removes the bra you had on.  He lavishes attention on you with kisses and gentle bites. 

You grab his head and bring his mouth to yours and then you change your positions, so that he is on his back.  You undo his button, move the zipper down and then shimmy his trousers and boxers down at the same time.  All the way down, you nearly fall off the bed to get his long legs free.  He laughs for a moment.  ‘Do you want me to take your socks off?’ you ask.

‘No, it’s okay.  The pants were almost too much,’ he jokes.

You huff a laugh, ‘It’s not my fault your legs are that long.  Scoot up, please.  You are too tall.’

He moves up against the pillows, and lays diagonally across the bed.  This was really the only way his frame fits on the bed.  You have even taken to sleeping next to the each other stretched diagonally across the bed.  You settle down between his legs that he spreads for you. 

He was already halfway to being hard.  Before you touch him at all, you just look for a moment.  You have been feeling the strong need to memorize some things.  You find yourself staring at all kinds of things about life thinking that you must file it away.  But mostly it happened with Noah, who was worth remembering the most.  Every single inch of his being was being recorded in your mind.  His cock was slowly standing up, his balls contracting every now and again.  He was pale just like the rest of his body, his head slightly darker.  When he flexes again, you wrap your hand around him at the base where your hand almost rests on his balls.  You hear him let out a sigh.  You lick at his frenulum and he immediately bucks his hips. 

‘Sorry,’ he breathes out.  ‘I’ll keep still.’

‘It’s okay, baby.’  You lick again, pushing your tongue against him, before taking the head into your mouth.  You stay there for a while, until he was fully hard in your hand.  You start to take more of him in your mouth.  You go slow, going slightly lower. 

‘Oh fuck,’ he breathes repeatedly.  ‘Baby.’  He is struggling to keep his hips down on the bed and it gives you a thrill to see the impact you can have on him.  Even now.

‘Keep still for me, for a moment,’ you say, looking him in the eye.  He nods.  You sink down on him as far as you can go.

‘Fffffff, I…….  B…baby.’

You smile.  You love it when he couldn’t get a word out.  You keep at him, following the thick veins with your tongue, paying a lot of attention to his glans.  You lose yourself in your task.  You memorize the weight of him on your tongue, the slightly salty taste of his skin.  How his skin is so impossibly soft.  How he reacts to your actions.  How you feel his balls clench every now and then. 

Before Noah, you never understood why women would willingly do this.  Now you felt privileged to get to taste him and see him be so vulnerable with you. 

Eventually he stops you, and sits up to kiss you.  Your jaw hurts a little, but you kiss him back.  ‘Goddammit, I love you,’ he says into your mouth.  ‘Please take off your pants.’

You lay back to wrestle your pants off, he grabs the ends by your ankles and yanks.  ‘Lay back, like you were,’ you tell him.  He complies quickly and without argument.

You straddle his hips, and he moves the pillows so he is sitting up.  With you in his lap, you were closer to a similar height.  Your faces close to each other’s.  He grabs himself and guides himself to your entrance and then you lower yourself onto him.  ‘I love you,’ you breathe out.  You take it slow and just grind into his hips.  His hands moving all over your body, even lovingly over your head.  You breathe each other’s breath, skin to skin, whispering words of love into the other’s mouth, throat, ear.

After you both come, you fall forward onto him and he holds you.  He pulls the blankets over you both and you lay there like this is where you want to be for eternity – him still inside.  ‘I will always love you,’ you try to explain to him what has been battling through your mind.  ‘Nothing is going to stop me.’

He hugs you tighter.  ‘Death has already tried, my love.  It has no power over us.’ 

Noah

Nick drops us off after the final chemo session with bags of food and drinks and I hug the man before he leaves.  ‘I cannot thank you enough,’ I say gripping onto his jacket.

‘My guy,’ he says.  ‘I wish I could have done more.  I am so sorry for you both.’

‘You have done so much for us,’ I say pulling back.

‘Let me know if you need anything else,’ he smiles sadly.

Inside, she is eating food straight from the container.  I leave her, and go the bathroom, where I unroll the old sponge mattress and put a sheet over it, bring blankets and pillows.  I make sure there’s tissue, ice water a washcloth.  Then I join her for dinner and I have nice time.  She is making jokes and smiling at me. 

We shower together, we wash each other’s backs and I can tell she is trying to enjoy feeling human before the side effects hit. 

We sleep together on the tiny mattress, I keep holding her because she is cold.  She is always cold after.   We fall asleep peacefully.  But soon, I am woken by her ripping herself from my arms and she leans over the toilet on her knees and she throws up all her dinner.  It comes in waves, I kneel behind her and rub her back, keeping my body close to hers for heat.  She starts sweating, but her skin is ice cold.  I feel all the muscles in her back contract as she keeps vomiting.  She is shivering.  Eventually she sits back and I wipe her mouth with the wash cloth.  She blows her nose and takes a few sips of water.  I open my arms and she climbs into me as close as she can get.  I lay us down and cover her with the blankets. 

‘I am not doing it again,’ she says.  I thought she had fallen asleep.  I keep quiet.  I know what she is saying.  I suspected this was coming.  ‘I’m sorry, but I just can’t.’

‘It’s okay, love.’ I rub my hand along her arm to warm her up.  ‘I understand.’

‘I would rather just enjoy what I have left,’ she whispers.

I start crying, but I try to hide it from her.  But she knows.  She grabs my hand, and weave our fingers together.  ‘I’m sorry, Noah.’

‘Don’t be,’ I sob. 

‘You know,’ she sighs.  ‘The part that scares me?  I don’t want to leave you.  I am not scared of anything else.  Everything else is nothing.  I am terrified of not being with you.’

This makes me cry even harder.  I am shaking by the time I get a reply out.  ‘I am scared of a lot of things.’

‘Like what?’

‘This.  Watching you suffer is tearing me apart.  I am scared of you being in pain.  But, yeah.  I don’t know what will happen when…’  I cannot say it. 

‘When I die,’ she finishes for me.

I nod. 

‘Well, if my soul lives on,’ she says.  ‘What if I don’t remember you?  You know how you couldn’t remember anything.’

My heart clenches in pain.  ‘I will remember for us.  I will remind you of everything you need to know.’

‘I am trying to commit things to my memory.  Trying to burn it into my being, so that I will remember.’

‘Things like what?’  I ask, curious.

‘Mostly you,’ she answers.  ‘Running my fingers through your hair, how soft your lips are.  How cold your feet are in bed.  How your hand makes mine look ridiculously small when our fingers are together like this.  Your kindness, and your laugh and how utterly loved and safe I feel in your arms.’

I ugly cry into the skin of her bald head and squeeze our fingers together and pull her body even closer to mine.  I feel her start to hiccup too.  She reaches back with her free hand and cups my head.  ‘I will find you, love.  I found you once, I can find you again.  Just look out for me, I’ll be there.’

When we calm down, we make up scenarios of what our souls will do together.  She is exhausted, but she keeps going.  We fall asleep with wishes hanging on our tongues.

You

After all the bad side effects of the chemo were gone, I started feeling normal again.  My hair was growing back out, I gained a little of the weight I had lost to all the vomiting back and my body felt like mine gain.  It was a dangerous thing.  I could so easily fool myself that everything was fine.

I decided to fill my days with as many good things as possible.  Which meant spending time with Noah.  For months we made a point to just do all the things we wanted.

We have game nights with Nick, where we would play video games or board games, order loads of food, listen to music and waste hours and hours laughing and having fun.  It was so good to see the two friends together.  To see the friendship they had after all the years.  To see a different side of Noah when the two of them were heated in their discussions or arguments about game rules.  I memorized the carefree way he plays.  The freedom is his reactions.

You go on road trips together often.  You pick famous places you’ve never been and also pick obscure spots to go see if there’s anything worth seeing.  Noah always packs bags of travel accessories, he has gotten very good at it.  He remembers all your medicine, your favorite sweets, drinks, tissues and extra jackets for when it gets cold.  He knows how you will react better than you do yourself.  He knows what you will need.  While driving, you guys play the same games you started on the trip to see Nick for the first time.  You hold hands while walking around.  You cuddle and watch countless sunsets from the hood of the car.  Each trip was immeasurably special – not because of where you went, but because of the opportunities you had to burn memories into your soul. 

You spend hours cooking together in the kitchen, picking things you have both wanted to try.  This does not always end in success.  But it does end with dances in the kitchen, or kisses in the kitchen, laughing in the kitchen.  It ends with meals enjoyed together, feeding each other, cleaning up together.  Memories.

Lazy days laying about, reading books or watching movies – as long as the two of you were tangled up in some way, it didn’t really matter.  During this time, you learned by accident that he gets full body chills when you play with his ears.  You realised he falls asleep within minutes if you run your fingers through his hair.  You craved the feeling of his weight on you – his head resting on your stomach, his legs thrown over yours, his whole body on you with his lips against your neck.  You paid attention to all the details.

You and Noah had a lot of sex.  You both always took your time with it, savoring every moment you had to bring each other comfort and pleasure.  Even when you were being rough and harsh there was so much love.  It was a way to show each other the anger, disappointment, heartbreak that you both felt.  And at the same time, it was a chance to be close and pour affection and love into the other one.  Each time had a lot of ‘I love you’s whispered.  Each time had a rush of overwhelming emotion that caused at least one of you to cry.   

When you start to realise that the medicine was not really taking away your pain anymore, you knew it was time to have a conversation with Noah.

While you were in bed, his head resting on your shoulder while your fingers ran up and down his bare back, you take a deep breath before you begin.  ‘Noah?’

‘Mmmm,’ his face squished against you. 

‘I think the time is getting near,’ you say.

‘What time?’ he mumbles.

‘My time.  I don’t think we have very long left,’ you keep your voice low, like it would soften the words.

He lifts his head and looks at you with sadness.  ‘Why?’

‘The pain is getting worse,’ you say with a grimace.  ‘But, the reason I bring it up is because I have a terrible thing to ask of you.’

He closes his eyes.  Like he knows.  Maybe he does.  He knows you better than you know yourself.  This hurts your heart so much. 

‘I don’t want to suffer through it, baby,’ your voice cracks. 

He nods against you.  ‘I don’t want you to either, love.’  You run your finger over the frown on his forehead, wanting to smooth out his worry.

‘Will you help me?’ you ask.  ‘When it’s time?’

He shakes his head with small movement.  ‘I don’t want to,’ his face crumples in pain.  ‘I want to do anything you need, but how am I supposed to do that to you?’

‘I hate that I am even asking,’ you sniff.  ‘I will do it myself.  But I need you there.  I need your face to be the last thing I see.  I want you in my brain when it dies.’

Tears stream down both your faces.  It has been happening so often lately and yet it still broke you to see his nose turn red, his lashes clumped together.  He was still so fucking beautiful.  After a while of contemplation, he says, ‘Alright.’

Noah

Today was the day. 

When it started getting bad, it went downhill very quickly.  Her pain became worse, she had no energy, no appetite.  The life was draining out of her before my very eyes and it was infuriating.  I had rage in me that it had to be like this.  She deserved so much better. 

While I understand her decision completely, it didn’t make it easy for me.  The emotions warring inside me made me nauseous all the time.  But I wanted her to get what she wants. 

I made her her favorite breakfast that she nibbled on a little.  We spoke at length about out favorite memories of our time together.  We tried to make love, but I couldn’t get hard, so I made her come with my tongue and fingers instead.  We cried a lot.  She fell asleep on my chest, even though she said she wouldn’t, she didn’t want to waste any time with me.  But she was tired.  She was tired in more than one way. 

I had to get into contact with Nick to hook me up, because we didn’t know the area like he did.  He asked friends, that asked friends and eventually we got a lethal dose of prescription pain medication that we would use tonight.  She made sure that it was more than enough. 

So that evening, I crushed up the pills in the kitchen, while she was hugging me from behind.  I placed the powder in a glass and filled another one with water.  I placed it on our bedside table.  After a hot bath and a cup of tea she dressed in her most comfortable pajamas and we sat together on the bed. 

‘What will happen to you?’ she asks, leaning into me, her head on my shoulder. 

‘I really don’t know,’ I answer back.

‘What if you are not okay?’ she sobs. 

‘Don’t worry about me,’ I counter. 

‘I only worry about you,’ she cries.  ‘I’ll stay longer if it means you will be okay.’

‘It won’t, love,’ I put my arm around her and hug her into my side. 

‘Here’s what I think you should do,’ she says through the tears.  ‘If you can’t find me, I think you should go to Nick.  You two will take care of each other.’

I laughed.  ‘I did think of that.’

‘I am so sorry,’ she starts.

‘No,’ I stop her. 

‘I am sorry for so many things,’ she carries on.

‘Please, don’t be sorry for one single thing.  Please don’t think that even one single minute with you was not the best moments of my existence.’

‘You can’t remember your whole existence,’ she counters. 

‘I know.  But I know,’ I sigh.

‘You were definitely the best part of mine.  I can never express how much I have loved you since I have known you.  I owe my soul to you.’

I try to find words, but they won’t come to me.  There isn’t really anything I can say to her that I haven’t said already.  ‘You are my soul.’

She calls Nick to tell him she is about to do it.  He is supposed to notify authorities.  They have a brief conversation.  And then I thank him and tell him I love him.

She pours the powder into her mouth, makes a face at the bitterness and then swallows it down with a few gulps of water. 

She kisses me quickly.  ‘I love you.’  Then she lays down and cuddles into me and I hold onto her for all I am worth. 

I grip her while I cry and cry and hope to whatever god is listening that she will feel no pain.  That she will be okay wherever she will go.  I pray that I will find her again.  I feel her breathing stop after a while, her grip on my shirt goes slack, but I keep holding on.  The warmth of her body lingers and it comforts me, until I start to fade away.  I can feel myself slip.  Her peaceful face is the last thing I see before I, too, am gone.

 You

The fog around you is thick to the point where you find it difficult to tell what time of day it is.  Through the wisps of white you see tall trees all around you.  The temperature around you is comfortable, even though it seems like it should be cold, it isn’t. 

You have no idea why you are here or where you are going, and the fact that you cannot remember does not upset you.  You walk slowly through the trees and the almost complete silence until you see a path.  You follow the path as it winds between the trees and the further you go, the fog seems to lift little by little.  Then a warm light becomes visible and as you get closer you see a cabin.  Warm, yellow light glows from the windows, smoke curls out of a chimney, it is calling you closer.

Then when you have almost reached it, the door opens and a tall man steps outside.  Your heart beats faster at the sight of him.  He is wearing all white, beautiful tattoos showing on his skin, his dark hair frames his face.  He smiles at you.  Like he knows you. 

He takes light steps down to you.  ‘Hi,’ he beams. 

‘Hi,’ you say, unsure of what was happening.

‘Are you lost?’ he asks you.

‘No,’ you say.  ‘I don’t really know.’

‘It’s alright,’ he says.  ‘I can help you if you need it.’

You look into those eyes that are so dark they are almost black and you know that he is safe.  He feels familiar.  ‘Do I know you?’

‘Come inside for some tea?’ he says reaching out his hand.  You take it without a thought and your fingers twine like you have done it a thousand times before.  ‘I have a lot to tell you.’

Inside is warmth and comfort and home.  You sit near the fireplace and he hands you a cup and you drink it.  It is just like you like it.  ‘Who are you?’

‘More importantly, who are you?’ he counters.

You frown, not knowing the answer.  ‘Do you know me?’

He nods.

A/N: This part was never supposed to happen, but a comment from someone on A03 put my mind to work.  I’m sorry that this part was also sad, but in my mind, there was no other way to do this.  Thank you to everyone who took actual time out of their day to read my story. 

[sequinsmile-x]

Reprise

Aaron gets a call, and it feels like nothing short of history repeating itself.

-x-

Hi besties,

So, I recently realised all of my hurt comfort lately has been Aaron comforting Emily...so then I wrote this.

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Minor Emily Prentiss whump, pregnancy, minor injuries

Words: 3.3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He keeps getting interrupted.

Paperwork was the most boring part of his job, but one of the most important. If they got it wrong, if even the tiniest detail was missed, then it could be used as a technicality by a defence lawyer. An error that could lead to a dangerous individual being back on the streets, which was something Aaron didn’t want to weigh on his or anyone on his team's shoulders. He’d been there. Had felt guilty over mistakes he’d made before, and any assurances that he’s human, that he’s bound to make mistakes occasionally, would always fall flat. 

He was reviewing casework, desperate to get the pile of files in front of him finished so he could go home and spend the evening with his wife and kids, but every time he was getting somewhere someone would knock on his door to ask a question. A distraction that could lead to a mistake that meant he found himself reading the same pages again and again, not making any progress as the clock ticked closer and closer towards his little girl’s bedtime. 

He’d already sent Emily a text. Had let her know he was running late and to have dinner without him but that he’d be home before the kids went to bed. If he wasn’t away on a case, bath and bedtime were his jobs, now more than ever because of Emily’s pregnancy. Not only was she struggling to kneel on the floor next to the bath these days, but she was exhausted all the time. The four years that had passed since she’d had Mae were enough for her to have forgotten how rough pregnancy was, especially now she’d just tipped over into her third trimester. 

He knew if he called her, if he told her he’d be even later than he thought, that she wouldn’t be mad at him. She’d say that she understood and she’d hand the phone over to Mae, would encourage the four-year-old to speak to him over the phone so he could at least say goodnight to her. Then, when he did get home, she’d kiss him hello and offer to make him a drink whilst he went to Mae’s bedroom to kiss her forehead and just watch her for a minute or two. Her face relaxed and her cheek pressed into the pillow as she hugged her favourite toy to her chest. Both she and Jack, and the little boy Emily was currently pregnant with, were a reminder that good things existed. That he had the life he once thought he’d never get a chance at again. 

There’s a knock on his office door and he sighs, shaking his head as he calls out for the person to come in, his pen already placed down on his desk.

At this rate, he’d get home to everyone already in bed. 

“You could look happier to see me,” Dave says, smirking at him as he leans against the doorframe, “I am your best friend after all.” 

“Emily is my best friend,” he corrects, leaning back in his chair. 

“She’s your wife.” 

Aaron smiles despite his irritation at being interrupted, “She’s my best friend too,” he says, his smile getting wider when Dave furrows his brow, “Have you ever thought this might be why none of your marriages worked out?”

He places his hand on his chest in mock hurt, “You know, you used to be a lot nicer before you married Emily,” he jokes, and they both laugh. 

“Is there a reason you’ve interrupted me?” Aaron asks, raising his eyebrow at him, “Or did you just come in to ruin my flow again?” 

“I’ve finished last month's budget reports for you,” he says, pulling them from behind his back and placing them on his desk, “All you need to do is sign them.” 

Aaron looks up at him, “I’m not going to unknowingly sign off on the department paying for your next book tour am I?” 

Dave chuckles and shrugs, “Guess you’re going to have to see how much you trust me,” he jokes, “You should just go home, Aaron. The paperwork will still be here tomorrow.” 

He sighs and nods, “I know. I wanted to make more progress than I have. Cruz has been breathing down my neck.” 

“You’ve got two kids and a pregnant wife, who happens to head up his Counterterrorism unit, at home. He’s not going to begrudge you going home,” he looks at his watch, “Especially when it’s already an hour past the end of your day.” 

Aaron knows he’s right, but old habits died hard. Even now he found himself getting sucked into work, although never as badly as he had when he was married to Haley. In some ways, he found that Emily's understanding of his job in the way she did helped, because if she ever asked him to take a step back it made him question himself, made him do as she asked of him. He wasn’t proud of it, wasn’t proud that Haley asking him had never been enough, but he knew it meant that he’d learnt from his past. That he hadn’t brought the mistakes from his first marriage into his second one. 

“You’re right, I’ll-” he’s cut off when he hears his phone ring, the vibration of it against the desk loud in the otherwise quiet office. He frowns at the withheld number and picks it up, sending Dave an apologetic smile as he answers, “Aaron Hotchner.” 

“Hi, Mr Hotchner, I’m Lisa, I’m an ER nurse at Stafford Hospital…” 

Everything slows down around him, his chest stuttering as time moves like syrup, every second sticking in the back of his throat, making it hard to breathe as he tightens his grip on his phone, surprised he doesn’t crush it as the nurse confirms what he already knows she’s going to say. 

“Your wife and children were brought in this evening after being involved in a car accident.” 

___

Emily wasn’t answering her phone. It doesn’t even ring. 

He calls her. Again and again and again and she doesn’t answer. Each time it goes straight to voicemail the sound of her voice on her personalised message makes him ache, his shoulders so tight as he drives he worries they may pop out of the joints. 

He tries again, presses the speed dial in his car but it goes to voicemail again. Her voice ringing out through the speakers around him. 

“Hi, you’ve reached Emily Prentiss, please leave a message after the tone and I’ll get back to you.” 

“Em, call me back, please,” he begs, ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him this might be the last time he hears her voice, that this will replace whatever she’d said to him when they left for work that morning in their separate cars, “I’m…please answer the phone. I love you.” 

It’s familiar. Too familiar. His hands tight on the steering wheel as he’s desperately trying to get to the woman he loves. Fear greeting him like an old friend as it breathes down his neck, its hand about to reach out for him and grab him by the shoulder. He tries to tell himself that it’s okay, that she and the kids are fine, but he can’t stop thinking that she hasn’t answered her phone. 

She would answer if everything was okay. She’d call him if everything was okay. 

He doesn’t remember a second of the journey by the time he makes it to the hospital. He flashes his badge at a security guard who tells him he can’t park where he’s pulled up, not caring if it’s an abuse of power. Every single cell in his body vibrating with fear and pre-emptive grief and guilt. He should have been with them. If he’d just gone home when he should have he would have been with them. 

He walks up to the desk in the ER, grateful there isn’t a line of people. He’s already speaking to the nurse before she looks up at him, all of the details he had spilling out of him in a second, words tripping themselves as he desperately gets them out.

“I got a call about my wife - Emily Prentiss, she’s pregnant. And my children Jack and Mae Hotchner. I was told they were in a car accident.” 

“Okay,” she says, looking at the computer, “Let me just check my system for them…” She drifts off as she types, and he hates how good he is at his job. Hates that he sees the very brief furrowing of her brows before she smiles up at him, “Did you say Prentiss?” 

“Yes,” he replies, his voice barely recognisable even to himself. 

“I’m sorry sir, I can’t see that we have any patients in the ER with that name, and I can’t see your children’s names either.” 

He grips the counter, his fingers pressed against cheap wood as he holds himself up, “What do you mean they aren’t on the system?” He demands, shouting at the young woman in front of him even if he doesn’t mean to, his desperation reaching an all time high. He finds himself wishing he’d taken up Dave’s offer of driving him here so that he wouldn’t be alone for this.

“It could mean a couple of things, it could mean they’ve already been discharged,” she swallows thickly, “Or, I’m so sorry but it could mean-”

“Dad?”

He turns around so fast at the sound of his son’s voice that he pulls his neck, but the pain that flares in it barely registers. All the anger and grief floods out of him in an instant the moment he sets eyes on him, on them, standing just a few feet away. Emily is standing next to Jack, her arm around his shoulders and the other arm securing Mae to her hip, the little girl’s face pressed against her neck. The only visible sign of injury is a bandage on Emily’s forehead, the stark white of the material a sight that is a little too familiar for his liking. 

“Oh my God,” he breathes out, making it to their sides in a few seconds, pulling them into his arms. His whole world in his embrace before he pulls back, dropping a kiss to Jack’s forehead and then turning to kiss his little girl’s and then finally his wife, “I thought…you didn’t answer your phone.”

“I know,” she says, unwrapping her arm from around Jack’s shoulder to cup Aaron’s cheek, her skin warm against his, “I’m so sorry baby. It was broken in the crash. Couldn’t even get it to turn on,” she looks over at the desk, a flash of irritation in her eyes, “And they wouldn’t let me call you myself.” 

“And you’re…” he looks her up and down now he’s closer and then at the kids, looking for cuts and injuries that weren’t there. 

“We’re okay. If I’d been in the car alone, if I wasn’t pregnant, I probably wouldn’t have come to the hospital,” she assures him, her hand slipping down to his neck, her thumb tracing back and forth over his jaw, “We all got looked at. We have some bruises from the seatbelts, and I hit my head on the steering wheel. But the doctors were happy to discharge us.” 

“You’re okay?” He asks, breathless, as if he’d run all the way here. He places his hand on her bump and the baby moves, the breath Aaron sucks in rattling back and forth between his ribs, “And the baby?” 

“He’s okay too,” Emily assures him, adjusting her hold on Mae. She turns to look at her, obvious fear shining in their daughter’s eyes and she tickles her to draw out a laugh, “We saw baby brother on the screen, huh?” 

Mae nods, her excitement at being a big sister overtaking everything else, “We saw his peni-”

“They said everything looks good. Told me what to look out for that would mean I had to come back in, and I have to arrange a check up with my OBGYN in a couple of days. We got new pictures,” Emily says, cutting over her toddler, not missing the poorly hidden smiles of amusement from some of the people sitting in the waiting room, and the horror on some of the other faces at a four-year-old knowing the anatomical terms for intimate body parts. She presses her lips together and looks at her husband, “I can show you when we get home?” 

“As long as the doctors are sure everyone is okay,” he says, “Maybe I should talk to someone, ask them to look at you all again.”

She smiles, passing over Mae so he has the comfort of their little girl in his arms, and he takes her willingly, stamping his lips against her forehead as he holds her close. She melts into his embrace, exhausted by the stress of what had happened, and he runs his hand soothingly up and down her back. 

“Honey,” Emily says, reaching for his hand, linking their fingers together so she can squeeze his palm against hers. “We’ve all been cleared. We’re okay. I promise. Right, kiddo?” 

Jack nods, “Right,” he smiles at his Dad, “Can we get pizza?” 

Aaron chuckles, the residual panic still simmering in his gut, but he clears his throat and nods, wanting more than anything to just get his family home where he could keep them safe, “Yeah buddy,” he says, ruffling his hair, “We can get pizza.”

___

“I have a feeling we’ll wake up with both of them in our bed,” Emily says as she walks into their bedroom, groaning as she sits down, her body aching in more ways than it usually did these days, “But they are both asleep.” She turns to look at Aaron. He’s sitting on the bed too, an arm's length away, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, “Honey-”

“What happened?”

She sighs and swallows thickly. They hadn’t spoken about it, not whilst the kids were with them. An unspoken agreement that they’d leave it until they went to bed. Neither one of them wanting Jack and Mae to relieve it when they were awake, when it was likely they would in their dreams. 

“It was low impact,” she says, shifting towards him until their thighs touch. The guy behind us wasn’t paying attention, he was on his phone,” she reaches for his hand when he tenses and links their fingers together, “He went into the back of us at a red light. He’d already been slowing down because he saw it go yellow, he just missed it going red.” 

“He could have killed you.”

“He rear-ended us.” 

He all but growls, “He was being careless.” 

She makes him look at her, her hand cupping his chin as she forces him to turn his head, “Something that I made very clear with a lot of colourful language Mae might start repeating during breakfast tomorrow morning.” 

Aaron sighs and kisses her knuckles, “What were you doing in the car anyway? I didn’t know you were going anywhere.” 

She presses her lips together, giving herself a moment before she answers the question she’d been dreading all night, well aware of what his reaction would be, “We were bringing you dinner.” 

His eyes go wide, the internalised anger she expected flashing in his eyes, frustration she knows he’s sending inwards for not being home on time written in the tension in his jaw.  What she doesn’t expect, what she doesn’t see coming despite knowing him better than she knows herself, is the way he bursts into tears. A sob caught in his chest that sounds like it hurts, cracking his ribs from the inside out, the sharp edges of them catching on scars that were already scattered across his skin. Like he’s tearing himself apart from the inside out in the same places another man once tore him apart from the outside in. 

“Aaron,” she breathes out, barely getting a second before he leans forward and presses his face against her neck, his tears burning her skin. She holds him close and turns her head to kiss his forehead. She blows out a shaky breath, seeing him this upset enough to tip her over the edge herself, “We’re okay-”

“I know you’re okay, Em,” he chokes out, tears leaving tracks on her neck, his words muffled against her collarbone as his misplaced anger turns into the grief he couldn’t shake off, “But I keep going back to that moment when I didn’t know that you were. It felt like…” he drifts off and chokes on the rest of his sentence, “It felt like my world was ending. If I lost you…” 

She pulls back so she can look at him, and she presses her forehead against his, her hand curled around the back of his head as she holds him in place, “Sweetheart,” she says, the nickname he usually used for her slipping free, “I’m right here,” she says, reaching for his hand to place it on her chest, making a point of breathing in and out deeply so he can feel the rise and fall of it, “I’m okay. The kids are safe and asleep in their beds,” she shifts their joint hands to her bump and she smiles when the baby kicks, “Baby boy is kicking up a storm as always. We’re right here. You didn’t lose any of us. This isn’t like what happened with Haley,” she reaches up and wipes a tear from his cheek, “We’re all right here.”

He chokes on a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. He shakes his head, making it knock gently against hers before he pulls back to look at her, “Sometimes I think you know me a little too well.” 

She shakes her head and squeezes the hand still pressed against her bump, “I’m your wife. I don’t think it’s possible for me to know you too well.” 

“I’m so-”

“I don’t want to hear any apologies,” she says, wiping his cheeks again, “Not for staying at the office late. Or for crying. You have nothing to apologise for, okay?” 

He nods, resting his forehead against hers, “Okay.” 

They wear a door open just down the hall, and then the thundering of Mae’s tiny feet against the hardwood floor. When she opens their door and pokes her head around it she has tears shining on her cheeks, her lips trembling as she steps into the room. 

“Mommy, Daddy, I had a bad dream.” 

Emily shifts back from Aaron just enough to make room for the little girl, “Come here, baby. Do you want to sleep in our bed tonight?” 

She nods as she climbs onto the bed, settling herself onto Aaron’s lap, “Yes please.” 

Aaron smiles and kisses the top of her head, “Well, since you asked so nicely.” 

Mae looks up at him and frowns when she spots his damn cheeks, “Are you sad Daddy?” 

“I’m okay, baby,” He sighs and runs his fingers through her hair, exchanging a quick look with Emily before he returns his attention to his little girl, “I was just scared because you, Jack, Mommy and baby brother could have been hurt.”

She moves so she’s level with his face, all but standing in his lap now, his hands on her waist as he secures her in place. She kisses his forehead, making both him and Emily smile, and then she pulls back, “We’re okay.” 

“I know, princess,” he kisses her forehead in return and encourages her to sit back down, “Are you okay to get comfortable in bed whilst Mommy and I get ready?”

She nods and then tilts her head curiously, waiting until both her parents are standing up before she speaks, “Daddy?” 

“Yes, Mae?” 

“What’s a douche canoe?”

[ateezmiyeon]

miyeon | the meeting

warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of injuries word count: 1.2k date: march 1, 2018

writing masterlist | main masterlist

miyeon knew she was late, she knew what was going to happen if her eomma found out but she still took her time making her way to the classroom. she never even wanted to attend this new school, her haelmoni had insisted she enrol in the high school that was closer to home so she had more time to study after training. her friends from her previous school had all moved into the high school that was attached to their old school and hadn’t spoken to miyeon since the last day of school.

not even her sister sehyeon could cheer her up that morning, even with her attempted impressions of minnie mouse as they ate their breakfast. her morning had seemed to become worse and worse as after she had almost chocked finishing the last of her cereal, she’d missed the last bus that would get her to class on time. so instead she’d had to sprint to the next bus stop over and catch a different bus and hope it would be on time. instead, it took three different diversions that ended up with miyeon being further from the school than when she began her journey.

the classroom was already packed full by the time she trudged through the door at the back of the room, spotting one open seat at the very far corner of the room. she slowly made her way over, ignoring the stares from students that she passed as some started to recognise her face. miyeon rolled her eyes and approached her table but was caught off guard by the sudden change in her vision as she fell forward.

laughter filled her ears as she realised she was stuck on the floor, her legs tangled in the chair leg of a girl she’d just passed. her head was throbbing more and more with each whisper of ridicule around her. she quickly scrambled to get back onto her feet and make her way over to her seat.

“you might wanna get that checked out.” a quiet voice spoke from beside her, alerting her to her new desk mate.

“what?” miyeon asked in confusion, not understanding what the boy was talking about.

“that cut, on your head. you fell straight into my desk and hit it. do you want me to take you to the nurse?” the boy pointed to the girl’s forehead, alerting her to the wet feeling above her right eyebrow.

miyeon hissed as she placed her fingers against the gash, pulling them back to reveal a slight red sheen. “shit.”

“i can show you where you need to go?” the boy was already packing up his things as he spoke, alerting their homeroom teacher who’d just entered the room of their sudden departure. “miss oh, i’m just taking my friend here to the nurse to get her head checked out.”

miss oh barely brushed the boy off, turning back to the blackboard as she wrote down her name. the boy turned back to miyeon with raised eyebrows, tilting his head towards the door. she felt she had no choice but to follow the boy, sliding her yellow blazer back on and walking back out the door she’d just come through.

the pair walked in silence for nearly the whole walk to the nurse’s office before miyeon finally spoke up, “you have no idea where we’re going do you?”

“h-how did you know?” the boy blushed slightly, looking around the corridor for any signs they were getting near their destination.

“this is the third time we’ve passed this board.” miyeon pointed to the bright yellow anti-bullying posters that were tacked onto the wall. “pretty hard to forget.”

“i-i’m sorry. i just wanted to help but i guess i’m just making things worse.” the boy looked down sheepishly, rubbing his neck out of habit.

“can’t really complain much, you got me out of spending any longer in that room after what just happened.” miyeon chuckled to herself, already knowing that no one in that room would forget her falling flat on her face.

“this is a large school, i’m sure they’ll forget about it by the end of the week.” the boy smiled down at her, his eyes lighting up as they finally reached a hallway that neither of them recognised from before. “i think we might’ve found it.”

miyeon chuckled at the joy on the boy’s face and followed him down the corridor. his thoughts were proven correct as the pair turned a corner and were greeted by the hospital looking room at the end of the hallway. a nurse was sat behind a desk, scrolling on her phone before she noticed the pair.

“oh! how can i help you?” the lady smiled falsely at the duo, her eyes barely lifting once from her phone.

“uh, my friend fell over and hit her head.” he shared a look with miyeon as the woman gave them no notice.

“there’s ice packs in the freezer over there. keep it on for twenty minutes and take some rest.” the nurse pointed towards a small freezer that was ti led away in the corner of the room.

“i think i might need a little more than that.” miyeon finally spoke up, pointing to the scrape on her head.

the nurse finally lifted her head from her phone and dropped it as she spotted the scrape across the girl’s head. “oh my god! let me grab some band aids for those.”

the duo held in their giggles at the woman began frantically running around the medical beds to find something to clean up her wounds. it took all of five minutes for the woman to finally settle down in front of the girl and begin cleaning up her wounds. she was very gentle with the cut that sat above miyeon’s eyebrow, placing a large bandaid across her forehead.

“can you slip your socks down?” the nurse asked, holding a wipe to clean the wounds.

“my socks?” Miyeon tilted her head, confused.

“yes, so i can clean those as well.” the nurse was getting impatient and pointed at the blood stains across her white socks.

“oh, i didn’t even realise.” miyeon mumbled, pushing the socks down and cringing as they caught on the wounds.

the nurse was much less gentle with these cuts, her patience clearing having gone out the window. by the time she was done with miyeon, the girl was holding in tears from the stinging sensation of her knees. she quickly thanks the nurse before dragging the unnamed boy with her back towards the way they’d come from.

“thanks for making me go.” miyeon mumbled.

“you’re welcome. just surprised no one else offered to help you.” the boy shrugged his shoulders.

“probably too busy staring to care.” miyeon rolled her eyes, grinning as she spotted the bright yellow posters once more. “we’re lost again aren’t we?”

“probably.” the boy chuckled, finally looking the girl in the eyes. “well, since we’re probably going to be lost here forever after this. what’s your name?”

“i’m seo miyeon.” she smiled up at the boy, catching a glimmer of recognition cross his eyes.

“nice to meet you, miyeon. i’m hyunjin, hwang hyunjin.” he smiled back down at the girl, ignoring the feeling of recognition he got at the girl’s name. “do i know you from somewhere?”

miyeon groaned as she realised the boy definitely knew who she was, “oh, god i hope not.”

[partywithponies]

Old Man Gene Hunt headcanons (for a "Alex returns to 2008 post-series 2 and meets a 74 year old Gene" AU that I may or may not do something with one day):

(Under a cut because this got long and I might as well have just written a fic)

Generally very lonely. The charges against him were dropped, but Ray, Chris, Shaz, Viv, and the gang all never fully believed he didn't shoot her on purpose, and he never bothered making new friends or getting close to anyone else

Has a tiny ridiculous dog (a very fluffy pomeranian in my head) called Sundance who he insults constantly but secretly dotes on

Unofficially gained possession of all of Alex's belongings when she "died" in 1982, couldn't get the energy to sort through and get rid of them, so just took most of it with him whenever he moved and still just has most of it in boxes in his flat and his lockup in 2008

Also still has the quattro in his lockup, and looks after it and keeps it in good condition, but doesn't really drive it out anymore

Currently drives around in a really shit transit van that he bought as a "project" with the intention to fix it up and sell it on, because a concerned neighbour told him he needed a hobby, but he got bored halfway through so now it's half painted and just has a lot of odd pieces of wood and engine parts in the back. Also has a mattress in the back because he drives out to the muddle of nowhere and sleeps in it sometimes, when he's either avoiding people and doesn't want to be bothered at his flat, or is just avoiding being alone with his thoughts at his flat (he doesn't have an office to sleep in to achieve this anymore)

His hair is thinning but fairly long, because he can't often be bothered getting it cut

(He genuinely isn't doing very well mentally and hasn't been for a long time, but if ever anyone voices concern or suggests he get help, they receive a barrage of verbal and sometimes physical abuse, so most people have given up on him)

EXTREMELY Grumpy Old Man when it comes to modern technology. Owns a laptop and a mobile, but point blank refuses to learn how to text or use the internet until he meets Molly and she becomes determined to drag him kicking and screaming into the 21st century (she's the one person he won't just tell to piss off. He's actually surprisingly soft for her)

Also owns a gun, very illegally. Does a lot of very illegal things these days

Is actually still surprisingly very strong and fit, for a fat old man who drinks and smokes even worse than he did before. Has drunk himself into the hospital a few times but always bounces back

Shortly before retiring in the late 90s, saw younger Alex at some kind of police conference, recognised her instantly, realised Alex had been telling the truth, and became a little bit unhinged. Just kind of obsessed with her. Moved back to London (had been working in Birmingham at the time) just to be closer to her, and basically stalked her for the next ten years, telling himself he "just wanted to keep an eye on her" and "just wanted to make sure she was okay", but after that first conference never actually let her see him

Gets into a lot of fights with criminals who hurt or threaten Alex, and at one point in the early 00s beats up and hospitalises an abusive ex-boyfriend of Alex's, getting him to leave her alone. Alex never figures out what happened to the ex to make him suddenly stop bothering and threatening her

Is actually the one to find Alex and get help after she's shot. Was keeping an extra close eye on her because he knew it had to happen soon, and when Layton took her, he knew where to look, and just went to where he first saw her

Didn't intend for her to see him after she wakes up again, and when they do end up meeting by accident (he was called into the station to give a statement on something at the same time she happened to be in visiting her colleagues for the first time since leaving hospital), he pretended he didn't know her, because he thought Alex would be able to move in quicker and ultimately be happier if she thought it was all in her head

By the time he realised that this had actually made everything so much worse, and that she was rapidly deteriorating both mentally and physically and looked more and sick and miserable every time he saw her, he still didn't say anything to her, because he thought if he said anything now she'd be really really pissed off at him

Only finally decides to talk to her when things have escalated so far that Alex's boss and Evan have both become so concerned that they've decided to get Alex sectioned, and Gene, upon hearing this, immediately "rescues" (kidnaps) Alex, only explaining everything once they're already on the road, and the two of them go on the run together

(They're both severely mentally unwell broken people, but they've decided they're going to look after each other now, so it's okay <3)

(Alex knows she should be super pissed at him, but right now she's too relieved to worry about that)

Gene is honestly confused and bewildered that Alex wants to be with him not only in the sense of wanting to stay on this impromptu roadtrip with him, but also in the biblical sense, given that he's 39 years older than her now and not in great shape, and she's still gorgeous even considering she hasn't really been looking after herself, and at first tries to nobly resist her attempts to seduce him, but she's quite persistent and he gives in quite quickly

(Yes, they fuck in the van)

Molly is at first a little weirded out by how old and weird he is when she meets her mum's new boyfriend, but she gets on really well with him and soon loves him. She gets on better with him than she does Alex (she's struggling to adjust to how different and damaged her mum is now and frustrated by the fact people keep pretending everything's fine, and they argue a lot, but they're trying)

(She's in her troubled preteen era, unstandably. very angry at the world, keeps getting in fights and bunking off school and getting in trouble. she finds Gene a kindred spirit and a sympathetic ear when she needs to rant, because he understands that people trying to comfort her or get her to talk about her emotions is just going to make her angrier)

Gene and Alex eventually come home and move in together and reunite with the quattro (very touching, that's their baby), and Molly gradually moves in with them full time (whenever Evan or Molly's dad try to take her away, she just runs away back to Gene and Alex anyway, so they might as well let her)

Evan is fucking furious. He doesn't trust Gene at all and is convinced he's manipulating both Alex and Molly. Evan becomes practically apoplectic when Gene and Alex become engaged

Gene and Alex are still both very confused and exhausted by everything and both aren't 100% sure they're not just completely mad, but eventually come to the conclusion that it doesn't matter at the end if the day if any of this is really real, as long as it feels real and they get to face it together

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Bloody Beetle | Part Four

Summary: life in the desert with Harrow and his creepy cult

Pairing: another one that’s mostly Arthur Harrow x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: that naughty boy Harrow is lying and manipulating people again, tut tut...

A/N: look at me posting two days in a row, who am I? For the purposes of this story, let’s just pretend Harrow has the ability to give people strength or make them need to sleep… as always spelling and grammar are not my strongest skills so please be kind :)

Part Three | Series Masterlist

- - - - -

Egypt is hot. Way too hot. There’s not a single inch of your body that isn’t dripping with sweat as you follow Harrow and his disciples through the Egyptian desert. Arthur keeps you near him at all times, and you watch as the scarab that is floating above his hand directs him through the sands and suddenly points down. 

“We found Ammit. She’s here.” He says quietly before turning to face everyone and shouting in a language you don't recognise. The disciples erupt into cheers and laughs of joy. You just stand and watch them all. You don't understand how anyone could be happy about this. But then Harrow hasn’t managed to brainwash you like he has the rest of these people. 

As they celebrate Harrow is approached by Bobbi, the lady you recognise as the police officer who took you from Steven’s flat. She’s on the phone when he notices her. 

“Marc Spector is in Cairo. He’s tracking us.” She says just loud enough for you to hear, glancing over at you as she talks.

“I know.” Harrow replies quietly, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “She’s here.” 

Some of the disciples get to work on unloading the trucks and setting up huge tents while others begin digging to find the tomb. Wanting no part in any of this you take yourself a good distance away from everyone, finding a rock to sit on. Arthur sees you and comes over, sitting next to you. 

“You look displeased.” He says. 

“Well you're one step closer to freeing the crocodile lady that tried to kill me and wants to kill a whole lot of other people so, yeah, you could say I’m displeased.”

“I wish you saw things the way I do.”

“And I wish you didn’t.” You shoot back and he smirks, but not in a malicious way. He is genuinely amused by you. You look back out at his followers all working like slaves under his command. It baffles you how happy they are to be working so hard in this heat, excited at the prospect of freeing Ammit. “How did you do it?”

“How did I do what?” He responds.

“How did you convince all these people to follow you?”

“They follow Ammit, not me.” 

“But they follow Ammit because of you, right? You told them about her.”

“I guess.” he says, noncommittal, wanting you to keep talking. 

“I presumed it was just that they were lucky enough to be judged as good by her, and that’s what made them follow her. But then I realised that even if she had judged me as good instead of condemning me, I still wouldn’t believe the same thing that she does. I still wouldn’t be okay with killing people just because they might do something bad. And I just don't see how this many people can believe that that is right.”

“Everyone has their own reasons to believe what they believe.” 

“Yeah, but when those beliefs result in murder-”

“Y/N…” Harrow sighs.

“I mean what about kids? What would happen if you tested the scales, or whatever you call it, on a kid. And it turned out that they might do something that Ammit classes as evil in the future. What would happen then?” You ask, but he stays silent. “Arthur?” 

“Don't ask questions that you won’t like the answer to.” 

“You’re even worse than I thought.” You get up and start to walk away. 

“Don't go far. It’s almost time for your daily healing.” He calls after you, but you just keep walking. You need to get away from this man. 

— — — — 

About an hour has passed since your revealing talk with Harrow and the dig is still in full force. You’ve made yourself as comfortable as is possible when in the middle of a scorching hot desert surrounded by unhinged cult members. You find a small mound of sand just large enough for you to lean against and you sit on the floor. Your face up towards the bright sky, eyes closed as you try to take yourself somewhere else in your mind. 

Suddenly you hear a man cry out “Help!” And open your eyes to see the sky turn a dark shade of orange. You sit up right and search the crowd for Harrow. He may be deranged, but for some reason you feel safe when your eyes land on him. He stops digging and looks up at the sky. He doesn’t look worried all. In fact, he looks irritated. 

“Keep digging! No matter what happens, keep digging! Do not stop. I am about to be called upon.” He looks over and gestures for you to come to him. You obey, getting up and running across the sand to where he stands waiting with his cane. As soon as you reach him he lifts the hand that is holding the cane up to the side of your arm, the wooden cane pressing into your bicep slightly. “It’s time.” 

He places his other hand on your head, closing his eyes. Out the corner of your eye you notice the cane glow for a moment and then its over. He removes the hand on your head, using it to call over one of his female disciples. “Y/N is going to need to sleep now. Take her to the tent, stay there with her until I return.” 

“Praise Ammit.” She responds with a nod before taking gentle hold of you and leading you to the tent. She unzips the door for you and before you enter you turn back to look at Arthur, but he is already gone. 

Harrow was right. Once you got inside the tent you suddenly realised how much you wanted to sleep. As the woman charged with staying with you sat on a stool by the entrance, you settled down on one of the two camp beds that are set up in the room and fell almost instantly asleep. You have no idea how long you were asleep for but when you wake, Harrow has taken the place of the woman and is now sat watching you. 

“You’re back.” You say as you sit up in bed. 

“I am.” he replies simply as he stands and moves over to one of the tables in the room.

“Where did you go?” 

“I had to talk with the Ennead council but it’s sorted now. Nothing to worry about.” A small smile appears on his face. “How are you feeling?” 

“Fine.”

“Good, good. I’m glad. The healing can make you feel tired for a while after so it’s important to rest.” He hands you a cup of water and sits next to you. He takes a sip from his own cup before talking again. “I saw Marc Spector tonight.” 

“Oh.” you say, trying to sound disinterested and ignore how your heart just skipped a beat at the mention of his name.

“He wanted the Ennead to put me on trial, but they saw through his lies and let me go. When I last saw him, he and Layla El-Faouly were meeting with a black market dealer-”

“Why are you telling me this?” You snap, standing up from the bed and stepping away from him.

“I thought you’d want to know.” It feels like he’s trying to wind you up, make you jealous that Marc is out there somewhere with Layla. 

“Well I don’t, okay? I do not care about Marc Spector.” You say firmly. A half truth. You don't know Marc Spector enough to care about him, but you do care for Steven and a small part of you still believes in him. 

Harrow stares at you for a moment before nodding. “Okay.” he says quietly before getting up and walking past you, stopping when he reaches the door. “Dinner is being served now. Once you’ve calmed down you may join us.”

He leaves and part of you wants to throw the cup of water in your hand at the door, but you don’t. Another part of you wants to just stay in this tent for the rest of the evening, but the grumbling of your stomach tells you that’s not a good idea. So you take a few breaths, finish the drink and head outside. 

— — — — 

As soon as you got outside with everyone, you wished you’d stayed in the tent. Something about the way the disciples watch you sends shivers up your spine. You get the feeling they don’t like having you around. Hushed conversations suddenly stop as you walk by. You keep catching glimpses of dirty looks and disproving stares being sent your way. If looks could kill, not even Harrow could keep you alive.

Harrow had been deep in conversation with a group of disciples so you walked straight to the food serving table and grabbed a bowl. You thanked the server who splashed a ladle of some sort of soup into your bowl and handed you a bread roll before you headed towards the table with the least amount of people sat at it. As soon as you sat down, the few people that were there got up and left, leaving you completely alone. Which you didn’t mind. At least you could eat your soup without judgement. 

Maybe its just because you haven't eaten a full meal in days, but the soup was actually delicious. You have no idea how they managed to make something so tasty with such few resources, but your empty stomach really appreciates it. A few moments later you notice the shadow of someone stood next to you. 

“May I sit?” Harrow asks, looking down at you with a sympathetic smile.

“Go ahead.” You say as you dip some bread in your soup and he sits next to you. “This is really good.” You say as you take a bite of the now soup soaked bread.

“Yes, Victor’s lentil soup. A favourite of mine.” He waves over to Victor who smiles at Harrow, but then he looks at you and his face drops.

“I don't think these people like me very much.” You try to laugh it off, but your insecurity sneaks through. 

“There are some doubts about you, I admit. Those who believe I’m wrong for sparing you after your scales judgement. But they’ll come around, once they get to know you.”

“They want me dead.” You say, a hint of sadness in your voice as you absentmindedly stir your spoon around your soup. 

“Y/N look at me.” He says and you look up, slightly startled by how close he now is. “No harm will come to you while you’re under my protection. You have my word.”

You just nod at him and he smiles, relaxing into his seat. You finish the rest of your meal in comfortable silence before Harrow offers to walk you back to the tent. 

“We’re going into the tomb tomorrow morning, as soon as the sun rises.” He says suddenly, and you don't really know how to respond. You want to try to convince him not to go, not to release Ammit. But you know there’s no point so you just say “okay” and continue walking. 

“I don't know how long I’ll be down there so I’ll need to do your healing before I go-”

“Wait, you're not taking me with you?” You ask.

“No, you must stay in the tent. I don't know what challenges I will face in there, it’s likely to be dangerous. I need to be able to focus and not be worrying about you.” 

“Why would you worry about me?” You laugh and he stops walking, turning to face you completely. 

“Because I care about you, Y/N.”

“Oh” you're surprised at his confession “Uh, I don't really know what to say to that.” 

“Then say nothing.” He says, reaching his hand out to pull back the entrance to the tent. “It’s time to sleep now. Tomorrow is a big day.” 

You enter the tent and head to the bed you’d slept in earlier. You're surprised that Harrow follows you in, placing his cane next to the other bed in the tent. 

“You're sleeping in here too?” You ask.

“Is that alright? I assure you, you are perfectly safe with me. But if you're uncomfortable I can swap with Bobbi. I’m sure she won’t mind-”

“No, no its okay. I don't mind.” You don't fully trust that Bobbi, or any of the other disciples, wouldn’t just murder you while you slept.

“Very well.” He says, climbing into bed. “Good night Y/N.” 

“Good night Arthur.”

— — — — 

The next morning you when you wake you can hear the sound of voices outside your tent. You look over and realise Harrow’s bed is empty. You get out of bed and creep closer to the tent door, listening to the conversation on the other side. 

“But sir, please, I want to help you!” The voice pleads. 

“You want to help me? This is how you help.” Harrow replies, calm but firm. “She can’t come with us, someone has to stay with her. I’m trusting you with to keep her safe.” He pauses. “Ammit has found you to be worthy enough for this important task. Don’t let her down.”

There’s sigh before the first voice simply says “Praise Ammit.”

You hear movement and quickly retreat back away from the door. A moment later Harrow and one of his disciples, a young lady, enters. 

“Y/N, this is Maya. She’s going to keep you company while I’m away.”

“Nice to meet you.” You give her a small smile, and she tries to smile back but you can tell she’s irritated. You turn your attention to Harrow. “You know I really don't need a babysitter. I’ll be fine in here on my own.” 

“I know. But just in case something were to happen, Maya will be here for you.” He moves closer to you. “Are you ready?” He asks, placing a hand on your shoulder and you nod. He places his other hand on your head, his cane glows and even though you’ve just woken from a full night sleep you instantly feel tired. He guides you back into bed, helping you settle in. “Sleep now. When I return, we change the world.” He says softly with a smile as you drift back into your dreams. 

— — — — 

The first thing you notice when you wake up is how quiet it is in the empty camp. It’s eery, kind of haunting. For the first time you actually almost miss Harrow and you're actually relieved he didn’t leave you completely alone. You sit up and look over to see Maya sat on the stool at the entrance, slumped against the side of the tent. She’s asleep. Not wanting to disturb her, you make your way over towards her as quietly as possible and sneak past her to the outside. 

Being alone outside sends a shiver up your spine. The camp looked abandoned, but you don't feel like you're alone. You get the same feeling you did at dinner last night, as if everyones eyes are on you. You head over to the food table and are thankful to find there’s still some porridge left over from breakfast in the serving pot. You grab yourself a bowl full and sit at one of the tables. You only get a few mouthfuls before you hear Maya shouting for you. She comes running outside, a look of panic on her face. A gun in her hand, which she lowers once she realises you're fine. She heads over to join you. 

“Why do you have gun?!” You ask in horror. 

“Harrow left it with me, so I can defend myself if I need to.” 

“Defend yourself against who?” You pause, surely not… “Against me?”

“No not you.” She tucks the gun away in her belt. “He just said if anyone shows up and tries to follow him or take you then I have to use it.”

“Who would want to take me…” you don't even finish your sentence as it sinks in. He must be talking about Marc. But if what he said before was true, then Marc wanted nothing to do with you. Maybe he knows something you don't and there are more dangerous people after you. But what would they even want with you? None of this makes sense, but it’s making you anxious. You decide to change the subject. “So, how long have you been with Harrow and everyone?” 

“Not long, only a few months now I think.”

“How did you get involved in all this?” 

“I made friends with some bad people when I was in college. Eventually they got me selling drugs and when my parents found out they kicked me out. I was living on the streets, meeting dangerous people. That’s when I met Arthur. He found me in an alley one night, tested my scales and took me in. He saved me.”

“Wow…” you don't know what to say. Looking at her, she can’t be older than 17. But already she’s been through so much. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

“It’s okay. I’m in a much better place now.” She smiles, this time it’s real. “And once we release Ammit, I’ll be able to bring justice to the people that hurt me.” There’s a few moments of quiet before Maya speaks again. “Please don't tell Harrow that I was asleep.”

“I won’t. But why does it matter?”

“I was supposed to be watching you. If he knew that I’d fallen asleep, and that you were out here alone… he’s be so angry with me.”

“But why?”

Before she can answer you hear the sound of something being knocked over in one of the other tents, startling both of you. For a second she looks panicked while she tries to work out what to do next. 

“Back to the tent. Go!” She whispers as she gets up and ushers you to move with her. She escorts you back with one hand on your back, the other hovering over her gun which is tucked into her belt. Once inside she tells you to sit back on the bed, which you do. You both stay silent as you listen out for any more movement. “I’m going to have a look around. Stay here.” She says and you agree before she disappears back out the door. 

A few more minutes pass by and you see the shadow of someone creeping around the edge of your tent. The shadow of someone too big to be Maya. You get on the floor and shuffle under your camp bed just as someone enters. You clasp your hands over your mouth as you listen to heavy footsteps move around your tent, rifling through items and baskets of papers that Harrow left on the table. Something falls to the floor and drifts down to land in front of you, some paper covered in sort of ancient text. Your heart feels like its about to pound right out of your chest as the intruder moves closer. As they crouch down to pick it up you finally get a glimpse of who it is. He looks at you like he’s just seen a ghost.

“Y/N?” the British voice you didn’t realise you’d missed so much. “Y/N! Oh thank God you’re alive!” 

Part Five

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[inniezinnie]

The “Fauzia” Effect

In which Kaveh helps a young lady named Fauzia cross the road by holding her hand. Alhaitham notices this, and has the oddest, most unpleasant shift in his heart. Misunderstandings unfold.

Alhaitham has many emotions. Emotions bundled up in his heart, hidden under lips pressed into a flat line. Jealousy was not one of them.  Until a rather atrocious sight caught his eye that morning. It was regarding Kaveh, because of course it had to. 

Kaveh was holding hands - correct, holding hands - with a beautiful young lady as they crossed the road together. It infuriated the usually composed Scribe. It made his heart itch. He eyed the two from across the road as he formulated a plan mentally. He strode quickly towards their destination, seconds before they could even reach it. 

“Oh, Alhaitham? Why are you here? You’re usually in your office at this hour,” Kaveh said, flashing a confused and disturbed smile. He nearly never smiles around Alhaitham!

“Ah, you must be the roommate I heard about,” the lady said, holding out her free hand for Alhaitham to shake, smiling gently at him. Her eyes were light coloured and glossy, extremely pretty and reminiscent of bejewelled glass ornaments Kaveh adored. 

How did she know? There’s no way Kaveh trusted her, right?

Her calm demeanour should give Alhaitham a sign that she could be trusted, but he was in no mood to get chummy with her. He shook her hands for the sake of politeness, then tore away immediately to cross his arms.

“Hm,” Alhaitham grunted in agreement, and nodded his head. He realised he was probably glaring at her unintentionally, judging by the way Kaveh frowned disapprovingly at him. He made a poor attempt to fix his face, earning another frown.

“You two must be very close,” the lady said again. “My name is Fauzia, I apologise for not introducing myself earlier.”

“Yes,” Alhaitham replied with such speed it took all three of them aback. Then he cleared his throat, only to feel bile piling up in his mouth as he attempted to restate his sentence. “We are indeed close, Fauzia.”

Her name certainly left a sour taste in his mouth. He wanted to get rid of it.

Fauia must’ve sensed the tension between all of them and excused herself, even telling Kaveh to let go of her hand since she could walk on her own from there. To Alhaitham’s surprise, she took out a retractable cane and went on her way, waving the both of them goodbye.

“Tell me, O’ Grand Scribe,” Kaveh turned to him immediately as soon as she was out of earshot, words laced with rage. “What exactly is wrong with you?”

“Think about your attitude earlier and tell me again, Alhaitham,” Kaveh stated again, inching closer towards him and jabbing his index finger into his chest several times angrily.  “There is no way in Celestia you should ever treat someone so coldly - especially a visually impaired woman!”

Oh. Oh dear. 

Alhaitham’s hands dropped to the side immediately. She was visually impaired! She couldn’t even see his nod earlier - she must’ve thought Alhaitham was a prick for not answering her question properly (though he was, in fact, a prick). The once prideful Scribe sulked in his own mortifying behaviour, and hung his head down low in guilt.

“Sorry,” he blurted out an apology. 

“Don’t say sorry to me, save those words for her! She looked so uncomfortable just now…” Kaveh said, words trailing off with worry. 

“I didn’t know,” Alhaitham sighed, shutting his eyes slowly. “Was that why you held her hand as you both crossed the road?”

“Yes,” said Kaveh, standing with arms akimbo. “I can’t blame you if you genuinely didn’t know, can I?”

Silence. 

“Why the harsh treatment, though? ‘Glaring’ is not in the lexicon of basic manners, regardless of who you’re doing it to - disabled or not,” Kaveh broke the silence, his tone slightly softer than his former harshness. “Last I checked, acting severely impudent towards strangers was not in your brain program either.”

“That was unlike myself,” Alhaitham stated, eyes finally opening to meet crimson ones.

“Yes, we can both tell,” the architect had once again pieced together something he shouldn’t. “Wait… Were you- No, you couldn’t be...”

“I had a strange feeling in my chest when I saw you both holding hands,” Alhaitham confessed. “I found the gesture irksome. Before I knew it, impulsivity overrode rationality and I behaved in a way I shouldn’t.”

“Oh, Archons,” Kaveh’s lips curved up slightly in a faint smile. “You were jealous?!”

“Yes,” the Scribe suddenly felt bashful. 

“Alhaitham!”

“Yep.”

“Seriously?”

“Regretfully so.”

At least Kaveh found the situation amusing. 

“I can’t believe it! Hand-holding was all it took to evoke a new emotion out of you?”

“Apparently, yeah,” Alhaitham’s lips tipped upwards a wee bit, suddenly finding himself to be quite the embarrassing jester.

They both laughed together. Kaveh still chided Alhaitham for being impertinent between their mirthy giggles. He then explained further to Alhaitham about his relationship with Fauzia. He had been helping her cross the road for weeks already, first finding out about her when she appeared quite reluctant to cross the busy road laden with speeding carriages. After several times of doing so, they became friends and often ate lunch together whenever Alhaitham couldn't accompany his roommate. 

With every new fact Kaveh revealed to Alhaitham, he couldn’t help but be amazed by her. As it turned out, she had just freshly graduated from Haravatat - she’s a semiotics expert just like Alhaitham. She had learnt to read and write in braille on both her own and with the help of Akademiya teachers. 

Ever since that day, they held hands every time they walked on the streets. Alhaitham apologised to Fauzia the day after and cooked dinner for all three of them. Both men would also invite Fauzia to hang out in their home if she ever felt lonely in her humble abode, or was facing writer’s block. They would both also provide help whenever needed, but her independence didn’t require her of any assistance most of the time. 

Bonus: Fauzia will be writing a book in braille soon. Alhaitham agreed to provide facts and new vocabulary or languages if needed, and Kaveh promised to illustrate her book. It’ll be available in the House of Daena in due time!!!

[confusedshades]

"Look I recognise your dramatic need for theatrics, but lord of the flies Hood, you have to actually explain why to the kid before making him choose!" Danny huffed at the red clad man in the warehouse. Robin, for his part, kept working on getting out of the binds they had him in. Currently the two villains were busy arguing in an empty office, but it wouldn't last long. It sort of helped that they thought he was still unconscious.

"Listen Badger, I appreciate you coming with and everything, but this is family business. B had no business putting more kids in the costume I. Died. In. His first protege ran off and got himself a new identity in a new city. I died. You'd think even his thick skull realises he's batting two for two."

"Hood,"

"Also that whole thing with Black Mask and the gang war? What the fuck was that?"

Tim stopped. They, they knew a lot. A lot they shouldn't know. It went beyond identities and relationships. They knew events and were talking as if they knew them. Knew Bruce and Dick and Steph- him. What the fuck. Well. He might as well be productive since he wasn't going to get free anytime soon.

"Hey idiots!" The silence that stretched out after his yell was louder somehow than anything he'd ever heard before. "If you've got a prisoner, you're supposed to keep the marital arguing outside. It's bad form especially since you bashed me on the head."

Before he knew it two figures materialised out of thin air in front of him. Huh. Okay. Either he did have some sort of head trauma (low likelihood) or they had some sort of device (magical or technological) or power of illusions (higher likelihood but he needs more information to decide)

"Sorry Robin but me and my buddy here needed to agree on a plan before he went head bashing again. I'm sure you understand." The man - and his size was definitely closer to Bruce's but he spoke like he was in college? - in black and white cocked his head.

"Yeah definitely appreciate the no future head bashing but the yelling isn't really helping with the headache you two already gave me."

"Again sorry. Anywho, Hood has a choice for you. He's going to let you go after you decide."

Tim frowned looking from one man to the other. There had to be a catch. "Just like that?" He double checked.

The guy in black and white - badger? - held out a hand a waved it side to side. "Kinda. I mean. Yeah you can make your choice and no matter what you decide you can go but there's a condition."

Ok. Back on familiar grounds. Conditions. Yeah Tim could deal with conditions. He'd dealt with conditions his whole life, watched his parents deal with them his whole life too. If there was anything he'd learnt, it was how to work conditions to your favour. "What's the condition? And what happens if I don't choose."

The other guy, the one with the red helmet shifted, (nervous tick? Fidgeting or tired of standing around?) before stilling at some unseen signal. For the first time since these two came in, Hood spoke up. "There's an explanation to the choice you gotta make. You listen to it and make your choice." His mechanical voice reminded Tim of Barbara's. Except hers was designed to be even and clinical. This guy's sounded like a flat growl. Unnerving. "The condition is that no matter what you choose, you don't tell the Bat. Anyone else is okay to tell, but not the Bat."

Tim weighed the variables carefully looking for loopholes or anything but these two didn't seem to care about the obvious hole they'd left in their condition. One one hand he couldn't tell Batman but he could tell Babs or Alfred or even Nightwing and they'd pass on the message. Hell he could write up a report. On the other hand, they seemed confident that he wouldn't want to tell B about this based on whatever explanations they were gonna give. Well. Tim already knew what the best option was and he'd chosen as soon as they'd finished talking but it never hurt to consider things carefully.

"Alright. What's the explanation?"

The two men looked at each other before pulling off their headgear.

2-For-1 Deal

(A prompt)

One boy goes into the Pit.

Two boys come out.

One: the original mindless boy pushed in, not so mindless anymore but now angry, memories regained.

Two: the surprise boy, fully conscious and aware, but confused with memories wiped.

One: the boy they trained for years, already halfway molded into a now enhanced human soldier.

Two: a boy untrained but superpowered, still trainable and moldable into a meta human soldier.

-

This could either be a parallel universe thing where both Danny and Jason are the same person but given completely different lives, so more like identical twins or clones here, which has the following support: both black haired, blue eyed, small kids who survived death at 14/15 and got white hair and grew into massive adults (Dan certainly didn’t have Vlad’s body) (and if I had a nickel…).

Or! DeadOnMain is always fantastic, even platonic can be awesome, or imagine the angst of being compared to each other constantly throughout training (“Even without superpowers, Jason is better than you, Danyal” “You’ll never become better than Danyal and his powers, Jason”), or mix and match! Competitive twins who hate each other, twins who become so deeply entwined they’re inseparable, enemies or friends to lovers, so much room to play in this sandbox of DPxDC fandom 😊

Personally, I like to imagine DeadOnMain in which since Danny has no memories, and therefore no goals, he’ll follow Jason anywhere and help. Either Jason and Danny both get poisoned against Bruce, or Danny could be the one tempering Jason out with questions and poking holes in the stories they’ve been told, things that Jason has been too focused on his anger (or Pit Rage) to notice and figure out himself. Then either they can go back to Gotham on a less violent rampage (but still intending on Joker dying), or they can come back twice as dangerous.

Maybe Danny tempering Jason’s rage keeps from the Titans Tower Incident with Tim, or maybe we go with the universes where Batman is a piece of shit and they try to convince Tim to join them before getting killed like Jason did. I like Tim not being beaten up by Jason, okay? Lots of fun ways to take this. (I have also maybe, possibly gotten hooked on JayTim in general and we can get a poly relationship with all three here, lol.)

[qu0kkarambles]

Part 5- Christmas party

Warnings- smut (minors dni), sex in public, unprotected sex, fivesome, oral, cum play?, cursing, degradation, praise, aftercare, overstimulation, hickeys, multiple orgasms, crying, I think that’s everything?

Authors note- I can’t quite believe this series is over?? It’s been in my brain for so long and I started writing part 1 over a month ago. It feels surreal that I’ve written a series on here but here we are, and all the comments and re blogs I keep getting make my day so please if you have anything to say comment or send anonymous asks I love hearing that y’all like this. Anyways enjoy.

3.1k words

Every year, your office has a Christmas party. The entire floor would be decorated with streamers and tinsel, Christmas songs blasting from an old radio and food and drinks handed out for everyone. It was the perfect opportunity for colleagues to spend time together outside of work hours, getting to know each other, sharing a drink and growing closer.

Needless to say, you had so far never attended. In previous years you always received the invite, left it on your fridge for a week, and then threw it away. You had no interest in bonding with your coworkers, and you definitely didn’t want them to know more about you than they already did.

It was your tried and tested method of keeping yourself out of the office gossip, and it was perfect. But this year would unfortunately be unavoidable. After your confession to heeseung he had set his mind on going to the party, even calling into work to tell them he wouldn’t be travelling for a while.

His stop on travel was only partly for the sake of the christmas party. He also realised while you were chatting about your weeks one night how much he missed being around you. He’d been planning to stop leaving you for a while, but your infidelity sealed the deal for him. He’d be staying put for a while.

When the day of the Christmas party finally came, you felt your stomach in knots. For the past week since you had confessed to heeseung, you had been working from home, calling into your hr department each day with the same excuse- family problems that would hopefully be sorted soon. Heeseung had also been working from home, meaning you felt like you’d spent more time with him in the past week than the past 6 months.

‘Are you sure we have to go hee?’ You asked for the fourth time as you finished your makeup.

‘Yes my love. We’re going’ he replied, his shirt buttoned up and looking sleek and sexy.

‘But why? What will meeting them do? Please heeseung.’ You were practically begging. Your stomach had been tied up about tonight for the past few days, anticipation and anxiety at the whole office meeting heeseung filling your body. Not to mention heeseung meeting the three guys you slept with behind his back. It was going to be a disaster.

‘Princess’ his voice was stern. ‘We’re going. Don’t worry you’ll enjoy yourself. I’ll make sure of it’ he reassured as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. Still unconvinced, you held his hand tight as you both left your apartment.

The red satin-feel dress you wore was perfect for the night, the 50’s style skirt perfectly accentuating your curves without being too short or sexy to be inappropriate for the work place. Although with your track record in the office, you couldn’t really talk on what was office appropriate.

Heeseungs hand rested on your thigh the entire car ride to your office. His hand up under your skirt and fingers flat against your skin calmed you, although your nerves picked up once you saw your office building.

‘Princess? You ready to go in?’ In your anxiety, you hadn’t notice him park the car, looking to you before stepping out of his door. He made his way around the car, opening your door and taking your hand in his as you stepped out, dress blowing gently in the breeze. The perfect gentleman. ‘Let’s go I guess’ you said, clutching his hand tight as you made your way into the building and up the lift.

The lift felt slower than usual, your mind running a million miles an hour with all the ways that tonight could go wrong. When the doors finally opened out into the open plan office you were taken aback. It really did look good, the decorations really transforming it from the relatively bleak office space you were used to. Music played through a crackling radio and many of your coworkers were gathered around one of the central cubicals acting as a makeshift bar for the evening.

As you approached with Heeseung, their chatter stopped as they turned to look at you both.

‘Y/n! So glad you could finally make it to a Christmas party. And who’s this?’ You recognised the speaker as one of the women from HR, but you couldn’t quite remember her name. You smiled, ignoring her question until heeseung piped up.

‘Lee heeseung. Her husband’ he replied, offering his hand out to shake her own. The faces of those behind all looked shocked, none of them knowing you were dating, let alone married.

‘Well done y/n. He’s mighty handsome isn’t he’ another coworker chimed in, the whole group agreeing.

‘Well thank you. We should mingle my love’ he said as he took your hand in his, excusing you both from the group as you walked away.

‘So. Where are they?’ He asked, eyes focused on you as you scanned the room. You had hoped that jay, jake and Sunghoon were yet to arrive, or better yet, that they weren’t coming at all. But luck was seldom on your side, and you soon spotted the three of them in a corner, each nursing their own cups as they stood in relative awkwardness.

‘Those three. Over there’ you told heeseung as you subtly nodded your head in their direction. His eyes followed, and he whistled low. ‘Well done princess. God you really know how to pick them don’t you.’ His hand held firm on your wrist as he pulled you in their direction, their eyes meeting your own before you reached them.

‘Hi there. You all must work with y/n’ heeseung began, taking in their reactions as they each tried to figure out who he was. Jay was the first to speak. ‘Yeah. I’m her boss. And you are?’ He sounded arrogant, his annoyance at your hand linked with heeseungs obvious in his voice.

‘Lee heeseung. Her husband’

At that, jake choked on his drink, spitting some of it from his mouth in shock as sunghoons eyes and mouth opened wide, shock painting his features. You still stood quiet, taking in their reactions as heeseungs hand left yours and found it’s way around your waist, pulling you close.

‘Her what?’ Jay asked, anger obvious in his tone. ‘You’re fucking married?’

His second question was pointed to you, but you kept quiet as heeseung continued. ‘How about we all go for a chat. I’m sure you’ve got some questions and y/n has a lot to say for herself, don’t you my love?’ He says as he looks down at you, eyes glinting in the party lights of the room.

You were grateful for the suggestion to talk to the boys elsewhere. Other colleagues knowing every inch of your personal life was too much to bare thinking about. Heeseung led you to the elevator and the five of you squeezed in, heading up a few floors before stepping off, certain you wouldn’t be interrupted. Being overly cautious, heeseung led you to a rather spacious office, which conveniently had a door lock. Definitely no interruptions.

‘Y/n. Do you want to start or should I?’ Heeseung asked, pushing you in front of the other men in the room.

‘Y/n what’s this about?’ Jake asked, hurt and confusion across his face as he processed that you were married, and also questioned why jay and Sunghoon were here too.

‘Shy? Don’t worry baby I’ll fill them in’ heeseung started, pausing for dramatic effect.

‘She fucked all three of you.’

The hurt, confusion and anger that spread across their faces haunted you. You never meant to hurt anyone, and the entire situation had spiralled out of control.

‘Heeseung please’ you begged, hoping you could soon leave.

‘My little slut fucked you all. And you didn’t even know she was married.’ As he spoke he lifted your chin with his fingers, your focus pulled up to look into his eyes. ‘Don’t worry baby. We’ll look after our little slut, right guys?’ He turned his question to the boys who were still stood in shock.

‘Remind me baby’ heeseung whispered into your ear, ‘who was first?’

‘Jay.’ Your voice was barely a whisper, until heeseung gripped your jaw and commanded you to speak louder.

‘JAY’ you almost shouted, heeseungs hand still gripping your cheeks.

‘Good girl. Jay. Come here’ Jay slowly walked toward you, still hesitant about how to act around you now that he knew you were married.

‘Take her panties Jay. I bet they’re soaked through by now anyway.’ Heeseungs voice commanded jay by tone alone, so following as he was told, he reached beneath the skirt of your dress to find your panties. Sure enough, heeseung was right, the lace fabric completely soaked through.

Heeseung released his grip on you, sitting you on a nearby desk before moving behind you, littering your collarbones with small kisses and hickeys. Jay stood holding your panties before catching heeseungs gaze. A wordless exchange and jay was kneeling infront of you, hands holding your thighs apart as his head dipped under your skirt.

‘Fuck Y/n. Taste so good.’ He said as he lapped at your folds. Your head thrown back, little whimpers left your ruby red lips as he worked you open with his tongue. Sunghoon was stood across from you, body unmoved from the shock of the situation, arousal obvious through his trousers. Jake was much the same, statue still until he caught you looking at him.

Your gaze spurred him into action as he moved forward, capturing your lips with his own as heeseung continued along your chest. Jay’s movements became quicker, slowly adding a finger as you moaned into jakes mouth. It wasn’t long before you were falling apart from his tongue. Moans and curses fell from your mouth as you broke your kiss with jake, heeseung lifting his lips away from your skin to watch as you fall apart for jay.

‘Good girl. But we’re not quite finished yet baby.’ He whispered lowly into your ear, your core clenching at his words. ‘Jake, you’re up’ he commanded the younger.

Jakes arousal was painfully obvious now, and though you were blissed out from your high, you could see how desperate he was. Reaching between your bodies, you unzipped him as he moved to stand between your legs. He coated himself in your release before sheathing himself in you, bottoming out in seconds as he whined into your ear.

‘Fuck y/n. Fuck feels so good. God.’ He captured your lips with his once again as he began his slow pace, heeseung moving from behind you toward the other two men. You were vaguely aware of their conversation, unable to concentrate on what they were saying as jake increased his pace. Your moans were swallowed by jakes kiss until you felt a hand thread through your hair, lips being pulled from jakes and face being turned.

To your side you saw jay, dick freed from its confines, fingers still threading through the roots of your hair as he pulled your head closer to him. You opened your mouth wide, taking him in as deep as you could. You were quickly gagging around his length as he fucked into your throat, his hand on the back of your head preventing you from pulling too far off of him. Jakes pace increased again, your moans sending vibrations along jays dick as you swallowed around him, your tongue paying special attention to his tip.

Chasing his high, jake had become animalistic. The sight of you choking and gagging around jay only added to his arousal, quickly pulling out of you as he covered your stomach with his release. ‘Fuck y/n. I’m sorry I got your dress dirty shit’ he said, panicking before heeseung laid a hand on his shoulder.

‘It’s fine. I’ll buy her a new one.’

Jay watched jake cover you in his cum, the stains looking so pretty against the red of the dress. Coupled with the sound of you choking around him and the tears streaming down your cheeks, he quickly followed jake, filling your mouth and throat with his release. As you swallowed around him, small droplets of cum escaped from the corners of your mouth, only to be caught on heeseungs finger and shoved back into your mouth.

You were diligently cleaning heeseungs fingers when you heard the softest moan from across the room. While you had been preoccupied with jay and jake, you had almost forgotten about sunghoon, quietly palming himself as he watched the scene infront of him. His head was thrown back as he whined, the sight of you being used by the others clearly effecting him.

Your mouth popped as heeseung pulled his fingers from you, motioning to Sunghoon to join in on the fun. He moved closer, apprehension still across his face. As he got within arms reach, you grabbed at the front of his shirt, pulling his face to your own as your lips crashed against his. The kiss tasted of cum, and he was addicted. With one hand holding his body close to your own, your other hand reached between your bodies. He moaned into your mouth as you began jerking him, lining him up to your entrance as heeseung whispered in your ear.

‘That’s it princess. Take him.’

As Sunghoon pushed into you, you gasped out, breathless from the overstimulation. He moved slow at first, your sensitive walls clenching tight around him.

You felt heeseung move from behind you, and within a second he was at sunghoons side, grabbing his hair to pull his head back.

‘Go faster, or lose your chance to cum’ heeseung commanded, and Sunghoon listened, immediately quickening his pace as you cried out in pleasure. A string of curses fell from your mouth as you pulled his body impossibly closer, fingers gripping tight to the fabric of his shirt.

‘Gonna cum fuck gonna cum.’ Your cries were broken up by moans, looking to heeseung for permission to cum. He nodded his head, and that was all you needed before you fell apart around Sunghoon. He slowed his pace as you worked through your high, increasing once again when heeseungs hands thread through his hair as a warning.

Your legs were shaking, overstimulation coursing through your body as Sunghoon chased his own release. He began to lose his rhythm as he got closer, on the edge before heeseung tugged his hair hard.

‘Don’t fucking cum in her.’ He said through gritted teeth.

His hips stuttered as he pulled out, covering your dress in his release, the white stickiness mixing with jakes cum as you caught your breath. Focused on the mess they had both made, you could feel heeseungs eyes on you.

‘Do you like that princess? Like seeing how messy they make you?’ He asked, his soft tone barely disguising the mockery behind his words. ‘My pretty little cumslut.’

He pulled your face to look at his as he spoke, seeing how fucked out you looked went straight to his dick, and before you could answer him, he was palming himself, lining himself at your entrance as he kissed along your neck. His lips were soft against the harsh marks he had made earlier, and he bottomed out within seconds as you clenched around him.

‘Hee- it’s too much’ you gasped at him, sensitive after the others had already used you.

‘It’s ok baby. You can take it. My pretty little slut.’ He began thrusting into you, pace steady as he slowly worked his way to his release. It would have been quicker if he had pounded into you, but he knew you were way too sensitive to handle that, and decided to take it easy on you.

‘Good girl baby. Fuck you’re taking me so well.’ His praise as well as his languid pace and your oversensitivity sent you quickly careening over the edge once more, head thrown back and eyes rolling to the back of your head as he pulled you closer to him. He followed shortly behind you, filling you with his release as the others watched in awe.

You stayed in that position, held close against his chest as you both caught your breath. Heeseung lifted his head to gesture to the other guys. You couldn’t see what he was telling them to do, but when you felt heeseung pull away from you, his hold replaced by jays arms holding you upright, you knew he must’ve given them clear directions for looking after you. Jake came up with tissues, gently wiping between your legs as jay held your body close. Sunghoons hand was against your head, softly playing with your hair as he whispered praise into your ear.

You looked up to see heeseung missing, and you had no idea where he had gone. ‘Wher-where’d hee go?’ You asked quietly, looking between Sunghoon and jay for an answer.

‘He’s gone to get the car ready for you, don’t worry darling’ jake finally answered, finishing cleaning your thighs as he spoke.

With your body relatively cleaned up, and feeling more able to stand, you made your way to the lift, Sunghoon and jay flanking either side of you. You leant against them as jake walked ahead, calling the lift and checking it was empty before you all made your way down.

Once at the ground floor, heeseung was waiting by the opened elevator doors to take you from jay and Sunghoon, the car parked right in front of the door. Lifting you in, he closed the door, speaking quietly to the boys before setting himself in the car himself.

The drive home was quiet as you drifted to sleep. Your body was tired, and you felt the car stop and heeseungs arms scooping you from your seat to carry your body inside, yet you didn’t have the energy to open your eyes and walk.

Once he had you in the bathroom, you had awoken a bit more, helping him remove your dress and clean your body, exhaustion seeping through your body as you both tried as quickly as possible to get you sorted and comfortable in bed. Once clean and warm in fresh clothes, heeseung tucked you into bed, cuddling into your side once he had ordered you both food.

You spent the rest of your night cuddled up like that, untangling your limbs for only a short while once the food arrived. With full bellies and warm cuddles, you quickly drifted off to sleep, but not before you heard heeseung whisper softly to you.

‘You’re all mine princess. I love you. Always.’

Taglist- @lix-freckle3 @axartia @enhasengene @sjakewrld @abdiitcryy @yunjardi @kihyuni3 @serendipityryn

[childotkw]

Do you have any regulus snippets??

Any tom x regulus , or sirius being an overprotective older brother or any Harry and regulus moments ??

Please I've been craving anything with regulus my little star🥺✨️

Okay so this is less 'overprotective' and more mutually protective, but the brotherly bonding is STRONG in this snippet and I'm actually really happy with how the scene played out!

--- -- --- -- ---

It was an obvious trap, but Regulus still found himself falling for it.

Honestly, he blamed the lack of sleep and the burgeoning headache that stripped his usual levels of perception down to the bare minimum he needed to avoid walking into walls.

He followed Sirius down the ministry hallway and into a room, his thoughts sluggishly parsing through all the potential reasons his brother might need to speak to him. His fingers briefly rubbed against his temple, trying to ease the throbbing under his skull, and then the door shut softly behind him.

Regulus blinked, looking over his shoulder to see James Potter leaning beside the door, one hand braced against it. The man was still wearing his auror trainee uniform, his hair windswept in a way that suggested he had just come from a training session.

Looking at him was too much like looking at Harry - how the boy was after a quidditch match, flushed with joy at another victory - that Regulus had to rip his gaze away and squeeze his eyes shut for a moment.

He missed the glance Sirius and James shared.

Slowly, Regulus turned back to his brother. "Sirius," he started, a warning creeping into his tone. "What is this?"

Sirius' expression was firm. "Sit down, Reggie," he ordered, gesturing to the plush chair in front of him.

They were in an office, he realised with a quick scan of his eyes. Judging by the size and general disorganisation, it likely belonged to some minor official who was either unaware that their office was currently being repurposed, or who owed his brother a favour.

This was too well planned, and already Regulus could feel his headache growing sharper as adrenaline began to pulse through him.

"Why?" he demanded, shifting his weight in preparation.

Sirius let out an explosive sigh, rolling his eyes heavenwards in a way Regulus found mildly offensive. "Because you look like you're two seconds away from falling flat on your face," he griped. "Now, stop looking like we're about to jump you - and sit."

Regulus didn't. He glared at his brother and kept his arms loose at his sides.

"Regulus, we just want to talk. That's all," Potter said from behind him, and Regulus scoffed, skewering the older man with a derisive look.

"We might all be out of Hogwarts but don't think I'm stupid, Potter. Maybe you never targeted me specifically, but I've heard plenty of stories about your group’s exploits that always started off remarkably similar to this," he said, sweeping his hand around the room - at how he was trapped, one of them on either side and with the exit blocked.

Sirius' eyes widened as Potter grimaced, both of them chagrined as they realised their error.

"That...wasn't our intention," Potter said, contrition plain in his voice. The man rubbed at his face, fingers slipping under his glasses to knead at his eyes. His shoulders slumped with a type of exhaustion Regulus was all too familiar with. It was the kind that never really left, the kind that clung to you, nipping at your heels no matter how many nights you slept through peacefully.

It was that, more than the curiosity, more than the pleading way Sirius was looking at him, that had Regulus backing down.

He stepped closer, dropping a hand on the back of the chair and leaning some of his weight there as a form of compromise. "What do you need?" he asked quietly.

Sirius frowned. "We don't need anything, Reggie. We're - I'm worried about you."

It was Regulus' turn to frown, blinking once in bewilderment. "You're...worried?" he echoed, not meaning to sound quite as disbelieving as he did. It was hard though - because even though his relationship with Sirius was better this time around, there was still a yawning gap between them.

One that Regulus couldn't bridge but that rang with all the lies he still kept.

Sirius boggled at him. "Of - of course I am!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up, and there was a trace of hurt in his eyes that Regulus latched onto with interest. "You've been acting weird for a while! Even before you graduated. You've been...distant and quiet -"

"I've always been distant and quiet," Regulus interjected, part in exasperation and part to try and derail this conversation because Sirius had evidently been paying more attention to him than Regulus had suspected.

And that very much wasn't good. Sirius was stubborn at his best and downright tenacious at his worst. If he got it into his head that Regulus was up to something or, gods forbid, in danger, then he'd never let it go.

"Not like this, Reggie," Sirius told him. "I know we haven't been as close as we should have been, and I accept my part in causing that rift. I let our parents pull us around and pit us against each other, and I know..." he stopped, looking down at his feet.

Regulus darted a glance at Potter, but the other man's face was creased with sympathy and aimed entirely at Sirius.

He looked back to his brother, watching with confusion as Sirius stepped up to him and tentatively laid a hand on his shoulder. Regulus stared down at it, stiffening instinctively.

It had been months since he had let someone close enough to touch him.

"I shouldn't have left you there," Sirius admitted, his voice a whispery rasp. Regulus snapped his head up in surprise, eyes widening just a little.

"I should have bundled you up and taken you with me the second I decided to leave. I should have reached out when we got back to Hogwarts. I should have told you to come with me, to get out of that fucking house. I should have done so many things, Regulus. I was...I was supposed to protect you, to look after you, and all I did was leave you behind."

"You needed to do what was best for yourself," Regulus said, awkward but fully believing it. He didn't know what to do with this sudden confession. In his last life, he and Sirius had never talked about that night. They'd never really spoken at all. The bitterness and betrayal on both sides had been too potent, too toxic, for them to ever consider reconciling.

Regulus' death had eliminated any chance of it ever happening.

But the years he had spent as a ghost, following Harry and watching over the boy, seeing how easily he loved and forgave, it had changed something in Regulus. It was why he was now able to let go of the resentment he had felt over what happened to him after Sirius had left.

"I should have taken you with me, I shouldn't have left you with them," Sirius repeated, clutching at him a little tighter, but Regulus shook his head.

"It wasn't your fault, Sirius," he said, reaching up to hold his brother's face in his hands. "Mother and Father, what they did to us, that's on them. They hurt both of us, in different ways and at different times, but I don't begrudge you for leaving. Not anymore. You burn so brightly, brother. I'd rather have you far away and shining than have you close and watch that light be snuffed out."

[noodyl-blasstal]

4 with the reaper squad?

Baby's first request, thank you so much!

“Hey, I love you. You know I love you? But if you bring another lean cuisine to work I am going to start cooking for you and just charging you a flat fee and you do not get to refuse”

Prompt from @juicywritinghoard Prompts for Fun and Profit which can be found by clicking here.

____

Kravitz glanced around furtively as he sidled down the corridor - elbow glued to his side, but not quite hiding a strange bulge in the usually impeccable line of his suit. Thankfully, the coast was clear, but he wished the break room was closer. Parading past every office wasn’t particularly in fitting with his current stealth mission. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy seeing his colleagues, he did. Lup and Barry were great, it was fun to work with them, it had been great to get to know such important people in Taako’s life, but… But. He really just needed to be allowed to eat his lunch in peace.

Turning the final corner, Kravitz gave a last look around the hall, and, coast clear, slipped through the door to the break room - relieved to see it empty. He closed the door and took a second to breathe a sigh of relief. Success! Kravitz grinned as he made his way towards the microwave, reaching into his blazer to release the load from his elbow as he went.

“Whatcha got there, Kraveroni?” Lup’s voice came from his right, light and dangerous. Kravitz jumped. The room was empty, he had checked, no one was in here! He looked around desperately, and swore internally as he saw her kick open the large under sink cupboard and crawl out more elegantly (and menacingly) than should have been physically possible.

“Lup? What are you doing under the sink?” Kravitz decided deflection was the best option as he tucked the box back under his elbow and pretended to be retrieving his pocket square instead. He wafted it ineffectually across his brow and then deviated slightly towards the sink.

“It’s just so warm you know, I was here to get some water.”

Lup was doing the face which meant she absolutely wasn’t buying it, but he wasn’t going to give her anything else. Kravitz didn’t realise his error until he got to the sink and grabbed a mug with his free hand. 

“Need a hand with the tap there, friend?” Lup was positively beaming.

“No no, I’m fine.” Kravitz was, in fact, not fine. He couldn’t move his arm without dislodging the box in his jacket and Lup absolutely couldn’t see that. After far too long he set the mug down, triumphantly turned the tap on, grabbed the mug again to fill it, and put it back down to turn the tap off. Completely normal and usual behaviour. Who would use two hands when they only needed one? It was inefficient!

Lup raised an eyebrow and gave him a half pitying look.

“As you’re absolutely fine and having a normal one, will you just help me get my tupperware? Someone put it in the top cupboard and I just can’t reach it.” She waved her arms feebly, nowhere near their full extension in the direction of the tall cupboard beside the sink.

“See, I’m just too short. But you, Krav, you’re soooooo tall!” Lup couldn’t keep the grin off her face.

Kravitz calculated his options. He could pretend to get a call on his stone? If he hadn’t left it on his desk… he could pretend anyway? She’d probably notice that. Sprinting as fast as he could back to his office and sitting against the door until she left him alone seemed like a good plan until he remembered the office sports day incident. He probably just had to try and open the sodding cupboard… Kravitz reached up with his free hand and pulled the cupboard door.

“There you go, Lup. Anyway, I’ve got my water so off I go!” Worth a try.

“Hang on Kravino, I need my tupperware and it’s right at the back. Oh please, won’t you help?” Lup was barely containing a gleeful giggle at this point and Kravitz felt the heat rising in his face. He could do this, he could absolutely wrestle the stupid tupperware out of the cupboard without dropping his box, and then head straight back to the safety of his office. This was it, he was buying his own microwave. He steeled himself and reached up to feel around the cupboard with his free arm. 

As he did, Lup yelled:

“NOW BAROLD!” and a loud thud sounded behind him.

“Fuck!” Barry swore. Followed by another thump and scrabbling noise.

“Ah, shit, sorry Lup!” Kravitz spun round and saw Barry struggling up from the floor by the table.

“I’d been crouching too long, old knees.” Barry pushed himself to his feet, grinning happily.

Kravitz realised his mistake too late, he’d turned away from Lup, and that was all the opportunity she needed. He felt his elbow levered away from his side, and the box fell to the floor. 

“No worries, babe. I’ve got this.” Lup replied. She swiftly kicked the box to Barry, away from Kravitz’s hands as he bent to pick it up and run. 

“Garlic parmesan alfredo with garlic” Barry read, holding the Lean Cuisine up.

Lup shook her head and looked grave.

“I’m not angry, Krav, I’m just disappointed.” 

“It has vegetables!” Kravitz felt defensive now. He’d noted Lup’s comments about his diet and he’d made sure to get meals with at least some greenery.

“It has vegetable, Kravitz, and much salt, yet none flavour.” Lup was shaking her head gently as she spoke. Kravitz felt like a small child.

“It has garlic! Garlic is flavour.” He wasn't going down without a fight, he was trying to be better at food. He’d heard the lecture enough. 

Lup didn’t even dignify that with a response, grabbing the packet out of Barry’s hand as he approached, and holding it away from herself in disgust.

“This is going straight in the bin. You know the deal.”

Kravitz absolutely knew the deal.

“What deal?” He said. 

“Barry?” Lup had clearly prepared for this eventuality. Kravitz looked to Barry with pleading eyes.

“It’s for your own good, bud.” He replied, pulling out a work issue recording device.

The sense of betrayal was sharp - not only was Barry going to work against him, he was going to do it with resources Kravitz provided????

“Kraveroo, we love you. You know we love you? But if you bring another Lean Cuisine to work I am going to start cooking for you and just charging you a flat fee and you do not get to refuse.” Lup’s voice was tinny but unmistakable coming out of the tiny speakers.

“Okay, if you see me at work with another Lean Cuisine then you can do that. No problem.” Kravitz hated past him. Week ago Kravitz thought he was so smart, he had every faith in his sneaking abilities, he didn’t think to buy a microwave in advance and actually plan.

“Here.” Lup said, holding a tiffin box out to him.

“I’ll definitely absolutely bill you at the end of the month.” She winked, and then turned to throw the Lean Cuisine at the bin. It landed perfectly, sending the lid spinning before it settled. 

“I just didn’t want to make Taako cook for me all the time, he’s so busy with all his press stuff and school. These are fine, they’re fine.” Kravitz said quietly. It had been a long time since he’d had people in his life like this. Before Taako came along he’d been pretty much married to work - and was apparently doing the job of three people to boot. Things had changed a lot in the last year.

“My guy, I’m cooking anyway, it’s not a problem to make an extra portion. I’ll actually bill you if that helps you say yes?” Lup sounded exasperated.

“Look, Taako’s going to be furious if you die early because you’ve eaten too many shitty microwave meals. Can you imagine him in mourning? He’ll be a nightmare. Don’t do this to us Krav.”

“Just accept the help, bud.” Barry added, earnestly. Kravitz appreciated it. Barry could relate, he’d been similarly job focused and isolated before the twins came into his life too. Maybe it would be nice not to have food which was somehow both too cold and also burned him? Flavour did sound like an enticing prospect… the food the twins cooked was always impeccable.

“Fine.” Kravitz replied, more firmly than he intended. He saw Lup’s face fall and Barry’s eyes narrow. Before Barry could tell him off, Kravitz scrambled to explain.

“Wait, I mean, thank you. Thank you Lup. I don’t even know how to express it, but this means a lot and I appreciate it. I appreciate both of you. Thank you.” 

Barry’s frown relaxed and Lup beamed.

“No problem. I’ll add a feedback form to the invoice so you can tell me how great everything was.” She bumped his hip with hers and waved over her shoulder as she left.

“Enjoy!”

Barry lingered a moment longer.

“It’s because she cares, you know? Food’s an easy way to show it” 

“I know.” Kravtiz replied, and his smile was more wistful than he meant it to be.

“Do you get used to it?” 

“The support?” Barry asked, and Kravitz nodded quickly.

“Yeah” Barry looked thoughtful.

“I forget it’s strange at first. Just enjoy it. Remember - you could have been eating nice food for a week, and instead you’ve had at least three boxes of the world’s saddest ravioli.”

Kravitz looked at the floor for a long moment.

“You’re right.” He nodded at Barry to thank him, then realised that his comment was oddly specific.

“Wait, how do you know that?” 

Barry grinned and walked towards the door.

“Just let it happen, Krav.”

“Barry? How do you know?” Kravitz asked, more desperate than he intended. Barry turned before he left and winked at him. 

Kravitz sighed. Being part of the Tacco-Blupjeans clan was certainly an experience. He flopped into a seat and cracked open the tiffin - dal, garlic spinach, pickle, a crisp samosa, and fluffy coconut rice. Barry was right, he should have caved sooner.

[captains-simp]

Hello, congratulations to your followers, I can ask Yelena Belova x reader who is very shy and has a perverted mommy and on a mission she meets Yelena and then the two fight and Yelena grabs the reader by the neck and hits her against the wall and by accident the reader drops a mommy and then Yelena grabs the reader by the wrists of her arms and throws her on the carpet and subdues her while holding her wrists on either side of her head, the rest can you continue?💗💗💗

Mommy Yelena cuming right up

1.5k words

Warnings: mild violence, gun play, coercion, non-con, dub-con, degrading and fingering

[ masterlist ]

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You cursed under your breath as you continued to run down the darkened hallway like your life depended on it. Honestly, it might have.

You couldn't hear the other woman but you knew she was close by. She was stealthy, agile, professional. You weren't any of that. You were simply someone who had been in the wrong place at wrong time a long time ago that had led you down the criminal road. You shouldn't have been there - in that building, with her. You were a good person. But the woman hunting you didn't care about that.

The hallway was getting too dark to see more than a few inches infront of you and you had no idea where you were. You didn't know the building layout well. You had only been there a couple of times before. But you has an unnerving feeling the other woman knew the layout like the back of her hand.

Each time your feet slapped against the concrete floor you became increasingly aware of how much noise you were making. Combined with your heavy breathing and muttered curses, you were practically sending up a flare signal.

You finally glimpsed a small light up ahead and as you got closer realised it was light spilling out from the cracks behind a door. Everyone had left in such a hurry it was no surprise a light had been left on somewhere. You felt reassured at the knowledge the electricity of the building hadn't been cut entirely.

You opened the door as little as possible in hopes it wouldn't be noticed by the woman, where ever she was. You put your back to the door and closed your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing, imagining yourself to be anywhere else.

When you opened your eyes again you saw you were in the main office of the building. It looked as though it had been ransacked. Probably everyone trying to dispose of any evidence when they were alerted to the woman's arrival.

The main desk was overturned as were the filing cabinets. Drawers and papers were scattered across the carpeted floor along with the occasional cigarette amongst them.

With a shaky breath, you stepped away from the door and to the a cabinet that was still standing. You lowered it as slowly as you could to the floor which was considerably hard with your lack of body strength.

You stepped back and deemed the barricade enough for the time being before you searched the room for a light switch so the woman wouldn't notice the room the sake way you had.

But your breath caught in your throat when you cane face to face with the woman you had been running and hiding from for hours. She crept out from behind the desk with a handgun pointed right at you, a stoic look upon her face when your eyes met.

You knew she would have no issue killing you, that your only hope was to cooperate with her so you slowly raised your shaking hands up.

"Against the wall." She demanded. You turned around and put your hands flat against the wall and squeezed your eyes shut when you heard her heavy boots approaching you. You had briefly caught sight of her when she arrived. You saw how she soundlessly crept up behind men to snap their necks. She was being deliberately loud. She was trying to scare you. And it was working.

"It's taken me an annoyingly long time to catch you." She spoke against your ear, her warm breath feeling like fire against your vulnerable neck. "You just keep squirming away." She continued to taunt as she roughly grabbed your left hand from the wall and pinned it behind your back, slamming you against the cold wall as she did so. You grunted and she chuckled quietly behind you.

"It'll make it much more enjoyable to but a bullet in your head." Your eyes widened and your breathing sped up as panic spread through you like wildfire.

When Yelena grabbed your other wrist you found yourself kicking out in defiance, not ready to sign your death warrant. You kicked at her legs behind you and while she narrowly avoided you, her grip faltered letting you break free and stumble sideways.

You leaped behind the fallen desk as you heard gun shots being fired, non of them hitting you. You waited for her to get closer before you reached up to smack the gun out of her hands and in response she slapped you. She fucking slapped you. Of all the attacks she could have gone with that was certainly the one you expected the least. But it was a bloody good one.

You spun around and fell to the ground from the force of the slap. Once you got your bearings you looked up to see the blonde approaching you with quick heavy steps again and the gun back in her hands.

You started to kick your feet out to back yourself away from the woman who was staring down at you in frustration and a hint of something else. You tried to get back up onto you feet but she shoved you down once, twice, three times, until she straddled your waist and held the gun up to your head.

You whimpered and closed your eyes in terror as Yelena gripped your chin in her hand to hold your head still. You waited to hear the gun shot. Or rather not hear it but be greeted by whatever followed death. You expected something. Not the excruciating silence that came.

You tentatively opened your eyes and saw Yelena's grey ones studying your features like you were a rare artifact. Your breathing was shaking as you stared back at her.

"You're so nervous." She pointed out in general interest.

"You're holding a gun to my head." You said shakily.

"I am." She noted. Then a smile that you certainly didn't trust crept onto her lips. "So you'll do what I say, won't you?"

When you didn't respond she pinned both your hands above your head with one hand and lowered herself down so her face was inches above yours.

"You're going to behave for me, printsessa. You're going to be so good for me." She husked as she stared down at you hungrily. You nodded your head silently, wanting whatever she had planned to be done and over with, the anticipation was killing you.

"Use your words." She whispered against your neck.

"Yes." You whispered back making the blonde grin.

Her surprisingly soft lips met your neck gently at first. You almost sighed under the contact until she sucked harshly on the skin there. You bit your lip to muffle a moan and wasn't even aware of Yelena's wandering hands, not even when they were undoing your zipper.

But when her hand slipped under your jeans and rubber harshly over your clit you bucked your hips up before you even knew what was happening. In response, Yelena dropped the gun and brought her hand up to your neck. Her fingers wrapped around it tightly and slammed your head back against the hard floor.

"Mommy." It slipped out so easily and so suddenly even Yelena faulted. But she soon recovered and squeezed down on your neck, hoping to hear the title again. You squirmed underneath her in shame and wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Oh? You like this, slut? You like when your mommy puts you back in your place?" You moaned in response despite your mind's inner protests.

Yelena's fingers dipped further and a throaty moan came from her when she felt how wet you were through your panties.

"Such a fucking whore." She spat and moved your panties aside to roughly thrust two fingers inside you, setting an instantly overwhelming pace.

"Mommy." You moaned again and went to bring her closer but you were reminded of her strong grip on your wrists.

Her fingers curled inside you with each thrust that brought you more and more pleasure. She fingered you in earnest, knowing that everytime she thrust back into your pussy her palm pressed against your throbbing clit.

"So fucking wet." Yelena groaned as she pushed a third finger into you. Your moans grew louder and your breathing became raged as you approaching your high.

"I can feel you clenching around me, slut. You want to cum?"

"Please!" You begged shamelessly, only wanting to release. "Please make me cum." Yelena grinned down at you as she curled her fingers again and watched your face contort in pleasure.

"Cum for me, slut." She ordered and that was all it took to send you over the edge. Yelena fucked you through your high and preened as she felt you coat her fingers with your cum.

"You know." Yelena mused as she pulled her fingers out to marvel in the mess you made while you lay tired and defeated. "I might just have to keep you."

[digital-corruption]

Unrecognisable Part 55

⚠️Trigger warning: Violence, torture, drugs, oh my!

Waiting in the darkness, trying to fake sleep while also trying not to fall asleep was actually harder than it sounds. I lowered my phone’s brightness all the way down and still it felt too bright. I managed to find a believeable ASMR of something snoring softly and played it while I kept my phone between the cushions on the couch. I didn’t think it would take Jake so long after drugging me to leave, but he must’ve waited at least two hours.

He came in to check on me sometime around 10 and left me a fresh bottle of water. His breath on my skin gave me chills as he leant over to check on me. His fingers softly stroked my cheek then ran across my lips before his own lips pressed against mine. I fought so hard to keep my breathing even and my body still, even though I felt so completely unnerved by the whole situation. Then as quietly as he entered, he left, closing the door gingerly behind him. I didn’t dare move a muscle, not until I heard his heavy footsteps descend stairs. Quickly I sat up, slipped my sneakers on and tossed on Jake’s hoodie. As I stood up, I grabbed my phone from between the cushions and put it on silent, muting all notifications.

The side door creaked as Jaked opened it. I tiptoed over to the office door, opening a crack to peek out. The building was dark. There wasn’t even the usual glow of Jake’s laptop. That’s how I knew when I heard the door closed that Jake wasn’t planning on returning anytime soon. Hurriedly I went down the stairs, trying my hardest to control my footsteps so they couldn’t be heard on the outside. Without even pausing for a moment, I gingerly opened the side door, keeping it’s creak to a minimum. Searching left and right for any movement, I closed the door behind, then ran to the corner and looked for Jake.

Jake was already a couple of blocks down the main road and I only just spotted him in time before he disappeared down an alley. Walking swiftly to catch up, I followed Jake through a maze of alleys and abandoned buildings. It took me a while to realise he was avoiding the CCTV cameras. He even had that considered in case I had some regained access to them. Eventually he stopped at the back of an abandoned warehouse and entered through a gap in the scaffolding. The area somehow seemed familiar to me. I glanced around and caught sight of the main road. It came to me that we were at the same building we had witnessed the police raid on Cyan from. We had had sex on the upper floor of this building. After a couple of minutes of waiting for any movement, I cautiously entered the building after Jake.

Not surprisingly, the building was dark, but I didn’t dare pull out my phone for light. Instead I waited for my eyes to adjust to the small amount of moonlight that penetrated the gaps in the boarded up windows to find my way around empty racks. Soon I reached a door to a wide-open room. There was a warm light from a barrel fire on the far side of the room. As I tiptoed in, I noticed Jake’s silhouette standing to the side of the fire. I kept to the back wall and moved behind some empty cardboard boxes to make sure I was hidden from view. Jake was talking, but with the poor sound reflections of the room, it was a bit difficult to make out what he was saying. There was a series of boxes closer to Jake. Taking a deep breath, I took the risk in moving closer.

“Oh come on, Richy! Wake up already!” I heard as clear day and my heart jumped.

Jake swung his arm and I heard the impact of the back of his hand on Richy’s face. There was a pained grumble from Richy. I peeked around the box and saw that Richy was tied up on a metal chair. His head hung low, his arms uncomfortably restrained behind his back, his feet planted flat on the ground, uncomfortably apart. He lift his head slightly and in the dim light I could see one of his eyes was so bruised it had swollen shot. I covered my mouth to muffle my audible gasp.

“Ah, I didn’t hear you return,” Richy smiled weakly. “You should have called to let me know you were coming.”

Jake yelled in German and slapped him again.

Richy winced and gritted his teeth, “What are we going to do tonight, Brain?”

Jake ignored him and walked over barrel. He lifted a piece of wood from a pallet off the floor.

“The same thing we do every night, Pinky!” Richy faked the cartoon character’s voice. “Really? Nothing? Have you never seen Pinky and the Brain? Who is the uneducated swine now?”

“It is clear that if you can still make jokes, I still have a lot of work to do,”

Jake wrapped a piece of cloth around the end of the wood, then lowered it into the fire, lighting his makeshift torch. I could see where things were going and I started to panic. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts for Dr. Cumming. Why did I have to have so many saved on this phone!?

“Just kill me already,” Richy shook his head woefully. “It’s what you want.”

“I want you to suffer as you made me suffer!” Jake snapped and walked behind RIchy. “First you drowned me in infested water! Then you burnt me alive!”

Jake lowered the burning plank onto the middle of Richy’s back. He held it there while Richy screamed out in pain. I jumped and my phone slipped out of my hand just as I tapped on Dr. Cumming’s contact. Jake lifted the torch suddenly and looked in my direction. Fuck, he saw me. I turned and tried to make a break for the door, but Jake was on me in no time. He tackled me to the ground so hard I scraped my knee on the concrete.

“Oh, MC, you shouldn’t be here,” he smirked sinisterly at me and grabbed my hair by its roots to pull me off the ground.

“Jake! Let’s talk about this, ok?” I begged.

“MC!?” Richy gasped. “No… no! No! No! NO! Let her go, Jake! She has nothing to do with this! This is between you and me! You and me!” Richy tugged on his restraints, but his chair wasn’t moving anywhere.

Jake grabbed my arm and held it twisted behind me as he shoved me across the room towards Richy.

“Jake, please, don’t do this!” I pleaded. “Come on, let’s see Dr. Cumming. You told me you trusted me to make that decision, right? It’s time, Jake. It’s time!”

“All you had to do, MC, was sleep and it would’ve all been over like it never happened,” Jake pushed me down beside a metal column. “Now sit there like the good girl I know you are.”

Jake walked over to an old tool cabinet and grabbed a jar from on top of it. I got up to run, but he quickly snatched my arm and yanked me back to the column  with such force that I hit the back of my head on it. As I winced in pain, Jake emptied a powder from the jar and blew it into my face. I heard Richy yelling as my mind seemingly disconnected from my body. Everything that followed felt like a nightmare, one in which someone else was in control of my body while I was forced to watch. However, I could only remember small bits and pieces of what happened that night.

“Trust me, this hurts me more than it hurts you,” Jake cooed as the drug took over my consciousness. “I never wanted to use it on you.”

“What the hell did you do to her!?” Richy screamed.

“The same drug I gave you when you stepped out of your apartment,” Jake explained. “Devil’s breath.”

“Please Jake, let her be,” Richy begged. “She doesn’t deserve any punishment, right? Just let her sleep and let her go when she wakes. Do what you want to me, but don’t hurt her!”

“Oh, she’s not asleep,’ Jake turned to Richy and grinned. “She just doesn’t have any say in what she does. And for the not deserving it part, well, that’s not exactly true either, is it? I mean it was only because of her that I went into the mines to get your sorry ass out of there! It was because of her that I became so weak and vulnerable! That I would do anything for her! I was at her fucking mercy!  She manipulated me to save you! Then, she got over me so quickly, like my sacrifice didn’t matter…”

“No, no, Jake. She was going to go to the mines, remember? You stopped her!” Richy tried to remind him.

“That was just her mind games with me,” Jake sneered. “This high and mighty angel, getting a devil to do her dirty work so she wouldn’t put herself at risk. MC, pick up that plastic bag. It’s time you got your hands bloody for once.”

Jake gestured to the tool cabinet. My body walked over to the cabinet on its own and saw a white plastic bag laid on top of it. My body picked up the bag without hesitation.

“Richy, do you know what happened after the fire?” Jake asked. “The fire had significantly reduced the amount of oxygen in those tunnels. Do you have any idea what it feels like to suffocate?”

Richy’s eyes widened in horror, “No! MC! Wake up! Think about what you’re doing!”

“MC, angel, please do me a favour and put that bag over Richy’s head. I’m tired of looking at him,” Jake grinned.

I watched in horror as my body moved behind Richy and lowered the white plastic bag over his head. No matter how much I screamed internally, my body didn’t respond as it held the bag tight around his neck while Richy thrashed in his chair in front of me. Meanwhile, Jake looked on with his hands in his pockets with such devilish glee, he might as well have been the devil himself. Richy suddenly stopped moving all together.

“That’s enough, MC,” Jake nodded. “We don’t want to kill him just yet, do we?”

As soon I pulled the bag off Richy’s head, he gasped for air.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Richy grumbled as he recovered. “For real this time and make sure it sticks.”

“Richy, seeing how you currently have your feet bolted to the ground, I don’t think you’ll be doing much of anything,” Jake rolled his eyes.

I glanced down and noticed large metal nails implanted into Richy’s bloodied shoes. They ensured Richy couldn’t just stand up and walk away, chair or no chair.

Jake walked over to me and turned me towards him, “You did so beautifully, angel. I’m proud of you.”

Jake pressed his lips to mine. At first my body didn’t respond, but it soon gave in and kissed him back. I wanted nothing more than to vomit in his mouth right then. It only got worse as his tongue invaded my mouth.

“You think she’s going to still love you when she wakes up,” Richy spat. “She’s going to hate you! Hate you forever!”

“Maybe,” Jake smiled. “But more likely this will all just be a bad dream for her. To think, that’s all you will ever be to her. Sure, it would have been better if she had just slept. Then she would have been saved from ever lying eyes on you again. But this beautiful angel, whose wings I’ve clipped and darkened, still manages to surprise me. My fallen angel that I’ve pulled from grace myself.”

Jake kissed me more heatedly this time and my body responded in turn. I could feel his hands running down my sides and grab my hips possessively. He pressed his pelvis into me and I could feel the erection that had grown in his pants. This sickeningly turned my own body on. I could feel the heat building inside me. My body craved his touch and his attention. It would’ve done anything for him. Anything he asked, no matter how morally wrong or depraved. It was addicted to his praise and his approval. So much so, that the memory of suffocating Richy was already starting to fade away.

“Jake, where are we?” I questioned hazily.

“Shh, you had too much to drink again. Let’s get you home before you pass out,” he cooed. “We can continue this there, away from judging eyes.”

“MC! Wake up!” Richy cried out. His voice was so hoarse that I could barely understand him. “Don’t do it, Jake. Please, don’t do it.”

Jake wrapped his arm around my waist and walked us towards the back exit of the building, blocking my view of Richy.

“What was that?” I asked confused.

“Just a noisy raven, angel. Pay it no attention,” he paused, then bent down to pick up my phone from the floor. He checked it, then handed it back to me. “Be careful with your new phone. Otherwise, I’ll have to get you a new one.”

“I’m sorry, Jake,” I frowned and shoved the phone into my back pocket.

Jake kissed the top of my head patronisingly, “Just try not to drop it again.”