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azrielbrainrot · 11 months ago

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I'll Be Here

Pairing: Azriel x Healer!Reader

Description: You feel a little out of place at a celebration in the House of Wind and a certain Shadowsinger comes to the rescue.

Word Count: 3605

Warnings: None

Notes: I had this stuck in my head and decided to just write it down. I'm not really a writer so bear with me please. Hope you enjoy!

Healer!Reader Masterlist

It's hard to keep an eye on how much wine you drink when the glasses get refilled magically. You've heard that this house has a consciousness of its own. Maybe it can sense your growing anxiety and keeps filling your glass in hopes of helping ease your mind a little. The more you drink the more worried you get, the thought that getting too drunk will only put you at a higher risk of embarrassing yourself having infiltrated your brain and pushed all the rational thoughts out. Big gatherings aren't exactly your cup of tea and the fact that this one was personally hosted by your High Lord didn't exactly help ease your nerves.

You've visited the House of Wind before but always as a part of your duties. Though it was because of your duties you were invited to this dinner so maybe you could add this attendance as part of your job. The High Lord and High Lady decided to invite notable people in Velaris for a night of celebrating the thriving city. After losing its High Lord for decades and the war that followed his release, Velaris went through some tough times but with the help of its people - most of them gathered in this space tonight - the city was once again prospering.

As a healer you usually see the High Lord and his Inner Circle in a state of emergency, when your abilities are needed and there's usually no time for formalities or worries. Every time you encounter them outside of those situations you never know what to make of yourself. You wouldn't say you're completely inept at social situations but you're definitely a lot better at handling them when they involve your patients and you have a job to do, something more important to focus on than choosing the right thing to say.

Your relationship with the Inner Circle is professional albeit friendly. It's hard not to feel your heart warming at the cupcakes the General insisted on buying you for helping heal his wings even after explaining that you actually only helped on his recovery process. Every time he drops by the clinic to pick up any herbs or ointments he insists on buying you one - though you suspect it's also an excuse to get one for himself - and when you see him out and about he demonstrates how healthy his wings are, having done it just before dinner when he was in charge of flying you up to the house. The painting the High Lady personally painted for you, as an acknowledgement of your efforts during the war, hangs right behind your desk in your office at the clinic and is one of your most important possessions.

This would be the kind of relationship anyone would kill to have with their employees - friendly acquaintances. But, since you were there for some of their most intimate moments and helped them through them, you never know how to act when you're not doing your job. You can't exactly call them your friends, even putting the fact that is your High Lord and High Lady aside, outside of work you only exchange some pleasantries whenever you bump into them. However there's too much knowledge for you to act completely professional after decades of nursing them and their family back to health. It feels awkward to shake their hands when they have hugged you with tears in their eyes, thanking you for saving their family.

There's also the tiny detail of the crush you've harbored on the resident shadowsinger ever since you first laid eyes on him. On top of trying to walk the line between friends and strangers with everyone else, you also have to be careful with not letting the observant Spymaster find out about the beat your heart skips when you see him. Making things awkward because of a silly crush is the last thing you need.

It's that reminder and the monumental effort you have to make not to let your eyes search for him that has you finally sneaking out of the room, deciding to find a quiet place to sober up. The House had fed you too much wine, and you still had to be flown back down at the end of the night. You'd really hate to throw up on Cassian's fancy suit. He probably wouldn't buy you cupcakes ever again.

You remember some of your surroundings after decades of being called in for emergencies, quickly finding one of the huge balconies overlooking the city. The fresh air grounds you almost immediately. You can still hear the muffled sounds of the ongoing party but the quietness of the mountain lets you get lost in thought. As much as you enjoy the liveliness of the nightlife in Velaris, you infinitely prefer the quietness and freedom only the woods or mountains at night can provide. When it's only you, the moon and the stars, and the world stops.

You don't know how long you sit there for, leaning on the railing and looking into the distance, wondering why your healing abilities work on some forms of poison but not on sobering you up. Your head only comes back to earth when you hear a familiar voice calling out your name behind you. You turn around fast enough to make you a bit dizzy, leaning back against the railing with wide eyes.

“Didn't mean to scare you,” the shadowsinger explained, “I just noticed you were gone from the room.” You spot the way he's bringing his wings closer to his body, making himself smaller, if that were even possible. Azriel made you feel a lot of things but you hadn't felt scared of him in decades, ever since the first time you met him. If you hadn't been already tipsy and distracted thinking about him you wouldn't have reacted so dramatically.

Realizing the spymaster of this court had just found you wandering around his house unattended, you rush to apologize and give him an explanation.

“I'm sorry. I needed some fresh air and remembered there was a balcony around here. I shouldn't have left the party without permission.” You make to move back, showing you were ready to go back to the party but he raises a hand and takes a step closer to you, stopping you before you can.

“You're not a stranger to this house. No need for permission,” he took another tentative step towards you before continuing, “Do you feel better now?” You relax back against the railing, your heart beating fast for a whole different reason now. It's not often you get to see Azriel out of his leathers and you barely had a chance to see him up close tonight, he looks mesmerizing.

“What?” Maybe you didn't sober up as much as you thought. Maybe being this close to Azriel was just an intoxicating experience in itself. Either way your brain was having a hard time catching up to his words and your chest was starting to feel warm.

“You said you needed some fresh air.” There's a glint in his eyes that wasn't there before. Probably realizing that you weren't actually going to be sick. His shadows peak behind his shoulders, following their master as they usually do.

“Yes. It was just getting a bit stuffy in there.” Aside from the butterflies creating a hurricane in your stomach, talking to Azriel feels right. His calm demeanor lets your thoughts quiet. “I might have drank too much because of the nerves.”

The Shadowsinger moves until he's leaning against the railing next to you. His eyes wander the illuminated city slowly before meeting yours. Stretched wings hang in what you assume is a less straining position after having to be pulled tighter into his body in the crowded room. Shadows start rolling off his shoulders, now lazing around him instead of covering him. The soft wind moves his hair ever so slightly, letting a few strands curl around his forehead and giving him an almost boyish look. It's not often you see the spymaster appear relaxed. You decide it might be your favorite look on him.

“Nerves?” Your eyes search his face once again after hearing the confusion in his voice. Azriel has a permanent seat at the High Lord's table not only as the Night Court's Spymaster but also as someone Rhysand considers family. This night isn't so different from every other dinner he shares with his family, just more crowded.

“I've never been to this house outside of my duties. It's a bit nerve-wracking to be personally invited by the High Lord.” As you finish speaking one of his shadows curls around his ear. You've learned they do this when they're speaking to him. The thought of it being about you has your heart speeding up. Only the Mother knows just how much those shadows can see and hear, if they can hear your thoughts. You check your mental shields just in case. They can be as terrifying as they are beautiful.

“Rhys and Feyre couldn't have thrown a party celebrating the strength and courage the people of Velaris have shown without one of our best healers. You've helped more people than we could ever thank you for.” The warmth you felt in your chest before was now spreading up your neck at an alarming rate. You had just been doing your job but being recognized for it felt incredibly rewarding. The fact that this praise came from the shadowsinger was making you especially giddy. “Rhys invited you because you're very important to this court, to us.”

“I am?” The question comes out before your brain has a chance to catch up. You try not to cringe at the surprise in your tone. It's not that you're not aware of your capabilities, the High Lord and High Lady either call for you or for Madja, one of the most powerful and wise healers you have ever seen. But old insecurities will always show their claws, indifferent to your achievements. To think that you could be important to all these extremely powerful people seemed like the punchline to a joke.

“Of course.” His body turns to you ever so slightly. Fingers uncurl as if he wanted to reach out, comfort you. “None of us would be here in good health if it wasn't for you, maybe not at all. You've helped us more times than I can count.”

“I was just doing my job. And I can't take credit for Madja, I'm usually just assisting her.”

“Even so, you've helped us through a lot.” He sounded very sincere, there was no denying he meant every word, but you still have a hard time believing it.

“I just don't think I really fit in here,” you whispered so low that if it wasn't for his fae hearing he wouldn't have been able to make out the words. The admission felt heavy in the air, it felt good to let it out. You hadn't been this honest with anyone, perhaps even yourself, in decades, you must have drank way more wine than you initially thought.

You weren't born in Velaris, but you've lived here for a century. The problem is you've spent the better part of that century waiting on feeling like you finally belonged. You never felt at home in your own court or in your family so it might have been wishful thinking that it would happen here.

“I think like that sometimes too.” As baffled as you were to hear that coming from him, he looked even more surprised than you. It seems he hadn't meant to say that out loud, but the words couldn't be taken back now.

“That's insane,” you try to level your voice after the outburst, "You're part of this family. Why wouldn't you fit in?” You couldn't let him think like that, there was no doubt in your mind everyone here loved and cherished him like family.

Rhysand's inner circle was known for how close they were, they were seen as the High Lord's family regardless of if they were blood related or not. Azriel has always been calmer and you know he likes to keep to himself but you never thought he looked out of place for a second. It's hard to imagine Rhysand and Cassian without his brother.

His eyes were trained on the city under you. His shadows had come back to him, almost covering him completely. Azriel was quiet for a while, long enough you thought he wouldn't even give you an answer. But then you feel a shield form around you, lest someone wanders in and hears his next words.

“Sometimes things and people change while you stay stuck in the same place,” his eyes meet yours as he talks and you search his expression for the rest of the story you know he won't tell. If there's one thing you hate about the shadowsinger is his ability to mask his emotions. His face was the perfect stoic mask as always.

It's not hard to understand what he meant. In less than a decade the inner circle almost doubled and some of the dynamics had likely changed with it. His brothers have found their mates, something every fae dreams of, and he was the odd one out. Even the Morrigan and Amren had found lovers in recent years.

You had heard some rumors he had taken a liking to the middle Archeron sister after pining for the lovely Morrigan for centuries, but she had also found her mate. Not even his methods of interrogation could make you admit you were avoiding the entire inner circle during that time. The hope you had felt upon realizing he wasn't looking at Morrigan like she hung all the stars in the sky was short lived and it only made you feel pathetic. You didn't understand why it had affected you so much. This was just a silly crush after all, you had never considered actually pursuing a relationship with the shadowsinger.

“I still don't understand how Amren got a lover before you.” You had meant to clear the heavy air between you but why your brain decided to use the millennia old creature to do so was beyond you. “I mean she's just…” you continue, startled by your own words, praying to the Mother that the shield he put up stopped Amren from hearing you, “Well, she's fae now but wasn't before and is still mildly terrifying, even after the transition, and you're so-” Wide eyes meet hazel and nothing could ever prepare you for the look on his face. The amusement shone bright in his eyes and in the teasing grin he wore. Just when you thought the shadowsinger couldn't get any more beautiful.

“I'm so?” He tilts his head a little as he asks the question. His shadows start almost dancing around him, like they can't wait to hear your thoughts on their singer. You clear your throat before continuing, trying to salvage some of your dignity.

“You're the Spymaster, the only known Shadowsinger. That's incredible, anyone would be lucky to have you.” Something flashes in his eyes and your mouth starts back up at the thought that it could be disappointment at the impersonal description. Azriel is much more than his role in this court and you can't let him think that's all you see in him.

“You're also one of the kindest people I've ever met. I've seen you worry over every single person in that room, putting their needs over your own even when you're also injured. You always keep your composure for them and give them your support. I've seen you around Velaris too, you're always respectful to everyone, even when they're a bit scared of you.” Eyes drag themselves back to the shiny stars in the night so you can keep going without wanting to jump off the balcony and making an even bigger fool of yourself. “Even as far as looks go... I would bet my house that if we walked down any of these streets we wouldn't find anyone that doesn't think you're stupidly handsome.”

“Stupidly handsome?” The amusement was dripping down his voice at this point. The smile was unmistakable in his tone and you couldn't hold yourself back from watching him any longer. You feel yourself relax at the grin plastered on his face. It isn't often that the shadowsinger shows any emotion at all, and you can't help the pride in knowing you put that gorgeous smile on his face, especially after the somber turn the conversation had taken earlier. You continue despite the warmth you feel in your ears, you'd compliment him for hours if it meant he wouldn't feel sad ever again.

“I've actually heard someone use those exact words to describe you.” You've thought it to be the most accurate description of the immense beauty the shadowsinger radiates ever since you heard the barista use it. Apparently she hadn't been born in Velaris and had taken up the job only a few days prior to serving the illyrian. She had barely held the compliment down long enough for Azriel to exit the building, shooting up into the sky. A few fae present couldn't contain the laugh at the fervent appreciation of the shadowsinger, but the air of agreement shared by everyone was unmistakable.

“I'll have to let my mom know,” there was laughter in his tone, “I'm sure she will be very proud that her son is receiving such compliments.” You hadn't known his mother was still alive which makes you think it's meant to be kept secret. You almost curse at the way your heart flutters. Stupid crushes.

“I'm sure she is very proud of you regardless.” He doesn't give away any hint of what might be going through his brain and it leaves you in a slight panicked fear of overstepping or having said the wrong thing. You could swear you saw a glint of disbelief but it was gone too fast for you to be sure. The idea that the Spymaster couldn't see his own mother being proud of him was ludicrous to you.

The nod he gives you doesn't give any of his thoughts away, but his shadows keep moving slowly around the balcony, never rushing to cover him.

“Why are you single then?” You know he's changing the subject but you don't have time to consider that when you realize it's your turn to answer the questions.

“Me?” You barely register the slight nod he gives to show you he's expecting an answer. If you had shadows of your own they would have wrapped around you like a blanket until only the top of your hair was peaking out. “How do you know I am? Are you using your spies on me, Spymaster?”

“I have to be well informed of what happens in this city,” he searches your face just like you did to him, “And as the spymaster I'm more than familiar with deflection. You don't have to answer my question. Tell me if I'm overstepping”

“No. It's-” you cringe, trying to find the right words. “I just never found anyone special I guess.” Even talking about this with him has your heart swelling in your chest and you pray to the mother he can't pick up on any changes in your heartbeat. You've been avoiding this conversation with family and friends, but despite all this you know Azriel will understand and won't make fun of your feelings. It feels safe talking to him. “I get really busy sometimes so it's hard to keep up a proper relationship, even with friendships. Sometimes people need more time than what I can give them.” You try not to think of all the times you didn't measure up to other people's expectations, when they didn't see you as enough for the trouble.

“They're idiots for letting you go.” You don't know if he's being polite in not mentioning how your heart keeps speeding up or if he thinks you're drunker than you are, but you thank every deity you can think of that he doesn't say anything.

“Some things just aren't meant to be.” You hope he doesn't insist on this conversation. There isn't much else to say and you'd rather not keep talking about how many times you'd gotten dumped. You consider pointing out he never gave you a reason for being single and that he was the one actually deflecting, but you don't want to push what clearly isn't an easy topic for him to discuss either. You suspect Azriel barely opens up with anyone, so you'll just treasure the brief look into his heart he allowed you before.

The rest of your night is spent with the shadowsinger, sitting in that balcony, watching the stars and talking about anything. The next day you'll sit in bed mortified, thinking about how you were doing most of the talking while he listened, but he had seemed content enough so you couldn't have been too annoying. When the party ended you had said your goodbyes to your hosts, without the previous nerves after your conversation with the shadowsinger. Feyre had even asked you if you were alright because she also noticed you leaving in the middle of the party, though something about the glint in her eyes told you she had gotten the wrong idea. Then Azriel had flown you down the steps and winnowed you to your front door - even though you could do it yourself. Maybe you'd have to rethink calling the inner circle your friends.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fic #azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #divider by saradika #healer!reader

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hahaifolded · 2 months ago

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141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Thanks for the help Author's Notes: here's the second one of the four. also sincere question, did this make sense? Warnings: MDNI, Racism (not Ghost tho), Angst

Did Ghost feel bad for screwing Gaz over? Of course not. All's fair in love and war. Did it hurt seeing you so downtrodden the next few days? Absolutely.

He doesn't like how you would walk onto base, worried about your position on this team. But he has to stay strong. For the sake of the task force, Ghost and the rest of the team have to suppress their feelings. Losing you would be too great of a loss.

That’s why he keeps his distance. He can’t be tempted if he stays away. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t indulge a bit if you went looking for him first.

Deep in his paperwork, Ghost is interrupted by light knocking. He looks up, and to his surprise, you are standing at his door.

“What do you want?” he barks. He didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh but he could see Price behind you in the hall on his phone. Not wanting to risk any misunderstandings, Ghost kept his persona on.

You step back a bit before entering. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I was hoping you can help me with something, if it’s not an inconvenience, of course. And I completely understand if you can’t. I’m perfectly capable of—”

“Ask and we can see.” Clearly you were rambling because of your nerves. Nerves that you never had when you were around Ghost before.

“I'm doing an intel overview with the rookies at 14:00 today and they have a tendency to question authority. Wanted to see if you're free to have my back in there?” The authority they questioned was really just yours as a lot of the rookies saw you as a diversity hire. You kept this to yourself as you didn't want to come off as difficult to work with. And thankfully, Ghost never asked whenever you asked him for help with the rookies. So you were hoping that he was still willing to help you.

Seeing this as an opportunity to be your hero, Ghost agrees. He wanted to show you that despite everything, you can always count on him. He can’t help but feel some glee when you throw him a smile as you leave, something he hadn’t seen in awhile. However, any joy Ghost felt evaporates as Price walks in.

"Need something cap?" he asks. He knew Price was up to something as a small smirk sat on his captain's face.

"Just wanted to let you know that I'm about to leave for my check-up. Gaz and Soap are off base today, so you're in charge," he informs. Ghost squints his eyes. There's no way that was all he wanted to say. And right he was as Price whips back around.

"Shit. Just remembered. I have a meeting with some captain today at 2pm. Cover for me, will you?"

Ghost's eyes bulge out. He can't. You need him at 2.

"Don't worry. It's a short meeting. It'll be over before you know it," he reassures. And before Ghost has a chance to rebuttal, Price leaves, leaving him with no choice but to follow orders. He considers texting you, but decides against it. He didn't want to let you down and besides, if Price said it was a short meeting, then it should be a short meeting. When has Price every led him astray?

Now actually as the clock read 2:55 and Ghost was still in his office, talking to this random captain. He knew he should have texted you. As the captain kept talking about some possible collaboration between the 141 and his team, Ghost stares at the clock, hoping, pleading that you were fine.

By 3pm, you accept that Ghost wasn't coming. Despite your efforts, the rookies keep talking over you, questioning your work. The longer it went, the tighter your throat got. Right now, you need support, you need back up, you need Ghost. Your Ghost. The one that would always have your back. The one that saw you as his teammate. The one that still saw you as his teammate.

Instead, you had the Ghost that couldn't even send you a text. Realizing these rookies weren't going to listen, you call it quits and end the meeting early.

By 3:47pm, Ghost finally frees up. If he was lucky, maybe you were still in your meeting. But to his dismay, as he walks out to the hall, he sees Price standing at your door. As he gets closer, he hears Price's annoyed and your tired tone.

"What do you mean you couldn't finish the meeting?" scolds Price. You stand at your desk, clearly exhausted.

"Like I said, the rookies weren't paying attention so--"

"So? It's your job to get their attention."

"I understand that, but--"

"I don't think you do actually," Price says, letting out an exasperated breath. He turns around and notices Ghost coming up behind.

"Ghost, just the man I wanted to see," he announces. Ghost stills, confused by the sudden change in Price's attitude. "I saw you took my 14:00 instead of cancelling it. Thanks for the help," he said while clapping a hand on his shoulder.

This motherfucker! Price just played him. Ghost shifts his gaze to you and sees you looking at him in disbelief. In your mind, Ghost had purposely abandoned you.

Turning his attention back to you, Price hits the final nail on Ghost's coffin. "You should try to be more like Ghost here. He knows how to be a real team player." You just nod.

Ghost doesn't miss the way your eyes go completely blank.

Word Count: 940

More Thoughts - Next Thought

#cod fanfic #cod x poc!reader #cod angst #cod x reader #141 x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #john mactavish x reader

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tzyunaes · 1 month ago

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BOURBON, MOONSHINE, ‎ ｡｡ enhypen hyung line as romance tropes

엔하이픈 형선 𖹭 𝑓em — reader ⨾ ( 98O ) g rom-fluff, brother's best friend, soulmates, opposite attracts, fake dating ARCHiVE

note : haven't written anything in a while, but hope you enjoy ! ˊᗜˋ

HEESEUNG ｡｡ brother's best friend

you vividly remember the moment you first laid eyes on him, as your rosebud heart skipped a beat at the sight of his ridiculously attractive features and tall stature in the midst of your brother's room. you knew immediately that your friends would soon hear all about him.

as time passed, your feelings for him only grew stronger, intensifying with every moment spent together. he treated you like a princess, and you were hopelessly drawn to him, entranced by him. could you blame him tho? he was just perfect. despite the undeniable connection, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that the emotions weren't right.

heeseung, on the other hand, was caught in the same whirlwind of emotions. the realization of his deep feelings for you had caught him off guard, and like you, he too wrestled with the dilemma of whether this love was acceptable or not, that this love was off limits. yet, despite the inner turmoil, he had made up his mind — he was so ready to risk it all, regardless of all the what ifs about your brother's approvals.

“whether your brother approves of us or not, we will be okay as long as you're okay.”

JONGSEONG ｡｡ soulmates

in the world where soulmates existed, you kept finding yourself skeptical of the same repeated theory again and again, your realistic heart struggled to fathom the idea, wherein it revolved around an undeniable connection between you and some other person, inlaid by the invisible string.

but little did you knew that when silence took over late at night, the grasshoppers chirping made you feel emptied, a subtle feeling of envy by those who found their soulmates brushed your heart, you knew it very well, you longed for such person too. and unbeknownst you, so did jay. the theory of being tangled with someone by fate, he couldn't help but wonder how it felt to have that.

in the middle of your shift at work, your eyes unexpectedly met his amidst the chaos of the convenience store, you couldn't tear off your gaze and just keep working nonchalantly, there was something else, something more, which you couldn't brush off. and when he kept coming to the place more often, the universe appeared to be taking its course as the phone numbers were exchanged, friendship blossomed, fueled by shared laughter and a similar sense of humor, giving the underlying psychic connection a chance to thrive.

when you both felt like could see through each other's eyes, he soon knew that fate had conspired to bring them together — like two puzzle pieces perfectly designed to fit against each other, a harmony of love that would echo for eternity.

“if the red strings theory of fate really exists, i would hope we are soulmates in every corner of the multiverse.”

JAEYUN ｡｡ opposite attracts

given to your quiet and reserved personality, it felt hard to communicate properly with anyone being a transfer student in the school, you found it hard to adjust and often felt ostracized and left out, which caused you to isolate yourself from everyone in the corner,

but your withdrawn presence instantly caught the attention of the social butterfly class president jake. he, a golden boy who effortlessly shone in any social setting, found himself inexplicably drawn to the quite of an enigma of the new transfer student.

in an effort to bridge the gap between your contrasting personalities, jake did try to initiate a conversation just to realize that you two really were polar opposites. which made him more intrigued. he found himself hell-bent to make you feel at ease around his presence.

through playful banter and light-hearted exchanges, he did everything in his power to ensure you never felt left behind. to his surprise, your reserved exterior gradually thawed in his presence. he cherished your blossoming connection and made it his mission to keep you from feeling like an outsider.

in his eyes, you were his precious princess, after all. and he was determined to give you the attention and affection you deserved. wrapped around his arm after a long day, the whispers of consolation did linger in the tranquil silence,

“i don't know how many times i've said it but you really are my home, like a missing piece that ive never known i needed."

SUNGHOON ｡｡ fake dating

being in a fake relationship with park sunghoon wasnt something you added to your new year resolution list at all and it happened to your surprise, to other's surprise. and so wasn't actually falling for him throughout the acting.

your heart couldn't afford to fall in love with him, your heart wasn't supposed to skip a beat by those small pecks on the lips and the petnames like “baby, princess, angel,” despite the reluctantness, your shameless heart did anyway. it didn't feel like something you should've been doing, but you did, being completely unaware of his feelings.

but despite the facade of nonchalant, he did feel it too, not knowing how and when it happened. he questioned himself that how did he happen to break the rules that he made himself while tossing in the bed instead of sleeping. contemplating how it had come to this. the cold demeanor he maintained crumbled, and he realized it was too late to hold back the growing feelings only to came in the conclusion that it was too late hold back the growing feelings. the realization hit him like a cold shower, he was far too deep, far too down bad for you.

“it was supposed to be fake, sunghoon…” your words trailed off when he deepened the kiss and you let him, closing your eyes as you tilted your head, his breath hitched as he pulled of the kiss and looked into your eyes, “i know it was supposed to be…but i fear i can’t hold myself back anymore, y/n.”

( 💌 ) : @flwrstqr

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trentsgirl · 9 months ago

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— 🤍 ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ (part two to stupidly in love with you)

⟡ summary: after being banned from the next match, jude decided to drown his sorrows in alcohol. as you accompanied him on his way home, he shared something with you.

⟡ content: friends to lovers, very fluffy, mentions of kissing, no cliffhanger this time, around nine hundred words.

⟡ streaming: better by zayn.

⟡ masterlist, part one, part two.

escorting jude back to his home was quite tiring and draining. it felt like you had walked for ages until you finally managed to get him to bed.

jude quickly fell asleep, dozing off as soon as his head touched the pillow. you couldn’t help but smile softly at the sound of his snores, although it quickly faded as you noticed the mess in his room.

being someone who values cleanliness, you promptly began tidying up jude’s room, making sure to be as quiet as possible. you didn’t want to risk waking him, especially considering how intoxicated he was. you didn’t want him to start rambling endlessly again.

after folding the last of the numerous t-shirts strewn on the floor, you closed the closet and were just about to leave his room when jude unexpectedly grabbed your wrist as you walked by the bed.

you were taken aback as jude quietly uttered, “don’t go..”

you couldn’t fathom how jude had sensed your intention to leave, but you knew he wouldn’t provide a clear explanation as he was about to drift off to sleep again.

“uhm, jude, i need to head home. it’s really late.” you whispered, trying to gently release his hold on your wrist, but was left astonished by his strength even in his drowsy state.

jude struggled to contain his emotions and actions, but he was certain about one thing - he wanted you to stay with him. he longed for your presence, not just tonight, but every night.

“don’t leave, please..” he murmured, his eyes opening to reveal a pleading gaze that instantly melted your hopeless heart.

jude was your achhilles’ heel, and you despised the power he held over you.

typically, you wouldn’t hesitate to share a bed with jude. it had occurred a few times during your friendship, like on vacations or when he traveled for football.

however, this time was different. because this time he confessed his feelings for you.

but, seeing him so vulnerable was agonizing, and it pained you physically.

in a moment of weakness, you gave in, sighing as you slipped under the covers. thhe warmth from both the blanket and jude’s body heat enveloped you.

he wasted no time in clinging to you and you made no effort to push him away, exuding excitement like a little boy who had just been given candy. your heart started racing, and heat crept up your cheeks. there was no way you could drift off to sleep in this state.

the room fell into a brief silence before jude broke it, his voice sounding more alert. “i wasn’t lying, you know... when i said i love you.”

his voice resonated with such sincerity that it tugged at your heart. as you lay on your side, your gaze fixated on the man who held your deepest affections. the intensity in his eyes implored you to trust him, to believe in his words.

curiosity compelled you to pose a question, testing the depths of his emotions. “when did you first realize that you loved me?” you inquired.

without hesitation, jude responded with unwavering honesty. “i’ve loved you for longer than i care to admit, y/n. perhaps it was that night we spent together in greece, or the time you told me i was the one you trusted most. but i was afraid of ruining what we had, or lose you, so i kept my feelings to myself.”

his heartfelt admission crashed over you like a powerful wave, leaving you stunned and overwhelmed. your cheeks flushed, and you found it difficult to maintain eye contact, fearing that your emotions would be too transparent.

for years, you had convinced yourself that jude would never view you in a romantic light.

he had been involved with other women, introducing you to so many that you had lost all hope for a romantic connection between the two of you.

the realization that jude reciprocated your feelings brought both a sense of bliss and trepidation. it was a mix of emotions - the joy of knowing that you no longer had to conceal your love, and the fear of what this newfound vulnerability might entail.

“you won’t ruin or lose me,” you assured him, reclaiming your gaze and locking it with his. determined to convey your reciprocal feelings, you boldly caressed his cheek, bridging the distance between your lips.

a sudden hitch in his breath revealed his anticipation and exhilaration coursing through his veins.

“you’ll always have me, jude.” you whispered before finally uniting your lips with his, cherishing the electrifying sensation that passed between you.

jude’s initial surprise quickly faded as he responded with equal fervor. he settled the rhythm of the kiss into a tranquil and unhurried rhythm, as if he wanted to savor every moment. it became evident that jude had no intention of letting you slip away after this. he was determined to make you his, forever.

the sensation of his lips against yours surpassed any expectations you had. it felt like pure bliss, surpassing even your wildest imagination. in this moment, you wished that time would stand still, never allowing you to return to a time before experiencing the euphoria of his kiss.

with a gentle separation, you finally uttered the words he longed to hear:

“i love you too.”

jude’s face broke into a triumphant grin, his heart leaping with joy. he had sensed your reciprocation from the moment your lips met, but he couldn’t contain his excitement.

lovingly pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose, he responded with a tender smile, “i know, baby. i know.”

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tinydefector · 4 months ago

Text

Perceptor Rut cycle

Warnings: smut, cockwarming, heat/rut cycle, size kink.

Word count 1.9k

Masterlist

Rut cycle fics

Percpetor Masterlist

_________

Perceptor had busied himself with running more energon samples along with blood samples from multiple of the humans in hopes of being able to make a hormone blocker so that the scent of humans wouldn't affect the cybertronians as it had been. "How's the samples coming along for blockers?" The human sitting off to the side asked while another vial of blood was being drawn from them. Perceptor's optics flickered as he processed the question, his CPU momentarily struggling to focus on the task at hand. The scent of pheromones in the air was making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on his work. Despite his best efforts to maintain his composure, the primal instincts of his biology were beginning to assert themselves.

He takes a deep vent as he clears his vocal processor before responding, his voice slightly strained, "The samples are progressing as expected. The blockers should be ready for distribution soon, I'm just currently missing some vital components." Perceptor could feel the heat building within his circuits, a sensation that was both unfamiliar and disorientating. He's slowly with his steps towards the humans, servos shake slightly As he disconnects the butterfly needle. “Please hold pressure on your arm with a cotton ball until it stops, I wouldn't recommend Moving to much for a few minutes”

As he continued with his analysis, Perceptor couldn't help but steal glances at them. Their presence seemed to exacerbate his current state, their proximity stirring something deep within him, but he needed them in the lab so he had help testing the blockers. Their blood was one of the main focus points outside of sweat. As he continued his work, Perceptor couldn't shake the sickly sweet scent that emanated from them. It had his processor spinning and a deep whine leaves him as he shutters his optics and takes a moment to try and steady himself. Though the situation was far from ideal, he couldn't deny the strange sense of gratitude that welled up within his spark for their presence, they were risking a lot for him, and the autobots to help with the project.

After a few minutes they stand up and slowly make their way over towards Perceptor as he test the next blood samples with some other mixes in hopes that it would be the breakthrough with a strong mix. The first few ones he had made and tested had slowly been fading and he needed a way to make the effects last longer than an hour at a time.

Their eyes linger on the different vials that Perceptor had accumulated. "I never realised how pretty Energon is and the difference mixes with other elements" they hum while watching the different vials react to the different chemical compounds, metals and also their blood. "What's in this vial?" They ask while pointing at the main one Perceptor had been working on. Perceptor's systems buzzed with heightened awareness as they approached, their presence sending a jolt of electricity through his circuits. He tried to maintain his focus on the task at hand, but the intoxicating scent that emanated from them was proving to be a distracting challenge.

"This vial contains a mixture of cobalt, titanium energon compounds and supplements. I'm trying to find the best mixture to inhibit the pheromone reaction associated with the cybertorian mating cycle," Perceptor explained, his voice steady despite the tremors starting to rack his frame. “I've tested other compounds but this is the mixture which seems to be working the most effectively thus far, but I'm theorising a way to ensure it lasts longer or atleast a full cycle.

his vocal processor momentarily faltered under the weight of his internal turmoil. "Please... forgive my... momentary lapse in focus," Perceptor managed to say, his voice strained with effort. "The... scent... it's... quite potent." He forced himself to meet the human's gaze servo moving towards another vial of the much weaker mixture. He takes a mouthful of it before trying to focus back in on his lab results over the next batch.

They give him a worried smile knowing that there wasn't much either of them could do due to the situation. He needed them there for blood testing. They slowly rummage through their pockets pulling out a small container of nicotine pouches. "Doubt this will help but try it" they state while holding two of the pouches out for Perceptor to take. "You put them in your mouth" Preceptor's systems buzzed with gratitude. "Thank you," Perceptor replied, his voice tinged with a rare note of appreciation. He accepted the pouches with a careful nod, his fingers deftly taking hold of the tiny items before placing them in his intake.

As he allowed the nicotine pouches to take effect, Perceptor felt a sense of calm wash over him, the mixture of both the text blocker and Nicotine helped to at least calm his systems enough to get the stronger mix finished. A fleeting respite from the overwhelming desires that had been clouding his thoughts was a relief. His servos sake less as he works quickly with the next blood samples trying the main mix with some others. It's nearly two hours later before the effect begins wearing off again. As he worked diligently on the blood tests, his servos started to get shaky again. Preceptor's sensors heightened, the need to claim the human helping him slowly leaks its way back into his processor. “Time” he calls out as his assistant and test subject takes the time down. “Doing better than the last lot, you've gained an extra 36 minutes and 19 seconds” they reply.

Perceptor felt the familiar ache in his spark. And yet, as his sensors clamoured for him to take them as his mate, a part of Perceptor acknowledged the undeniable truth, he wasn't going to be able to get this batch finished in time. His own scenes were working overtime and his restraint was too.

"Percy?" They call out watching him with slight worry. "How can I help?" They finally ask and it makes a whine leave his vocalizer. He needed them desperately, He fought to maintain his composure, his plating shuddering with the overwhelming need that threatened to consume him. The pooling of lubricant in his interface array had him desperate for some sort of release. With a voice strained with desire, Perceptor managed to respond, "I... I don't know if... if you can help. The rut cycle... it's... it's consuming me."

"Sit down, open up, I'm gonna try and help you " they call out while moving closer to him. The moment their hands touch his plating it has him letting out a sharp vent, optics flickering as a keen leaves his vocalizer. Perceptor obediently sat down, his frame trembling. As he opened his interface panel, he felt a surge of heat radiate through him, as his spike pressurised, the anticipation of what was to come sending a thrill down his spinal strut.

his optics locked with theirs as they move over and climb into his lap, his back arches at the feeling of small hands against his spike a loud moan leaves him. "Is it gonna help you focus if I sit on your spike while you try and work?" They ask, but the sweet scent of their hormones, pheromones and arousal has his spike already weeping transfluid.

With a voice strained with need, Perceptor managed to respond, "I... I don't know if... if it will help me focus, but..." His words trailed off as moans again.

"Easy Percy, let me help you" they coo while discarding their clothing. They move back towards him grabbing his spike, They slowly tease it between their thighs before slowly sinking down onto it with a hiss. Their back presses to his chassis as a full body shutter racks his form. The sensation of their warmth enveloping him, has a choked noise of need leaves him.

"I'm going to sit here and you're going to work on the blockers, if it gets too much just let me know" they call to him as one of his servos moves to grip their hips, slowly grinds his spike into them. A whimpered moan leaves him as he slumps his helm to rest against their shoulder "Understood," Perceptor responded. His servo gripped their hips, guiding their movements as he slowly ground his spike into them slightly harder. His other servo busies itself with added other metals and powders into other vials.

And as he worked on the new formula, his spike grinding into the human with restraint, Little moans and gasps leave their lips with each grind from Perceptor, one of their hands grips the lens scope as he pulls them back down on his spike. Preceptor's other servo digs into the bench leaving a dent in the metal as he slowly bounces them atop his spike, the gasp, Moan and clenching hard around his spike.

"The missing elements..." Perceptor managed to mumble to himself, his voice strained as he pressed his lips to their shoulder. They throw their head back giving him more skin to lick and nip at, a pathetic whimper leaves them as he catches their lips in a hungry kiss. Perceptor's systems overloaded with a surge of primal desire His frame quivered with a raw, animalistic need as he deepened the kiss, With a low growl rumbling in his vocalizer, his grip tightened on their hip, pulling them closer to him as he allowed his instincts to guide him. The scent of their arousal, the taste of their lips, fueled the fire burning within him.

"Oh God!, Perceptor!" They cry out as he snaps his hips into them, the slick sound of his frame slamming into them has him purring in delight as they clench around him like a vice. Perceptor's vocalizer emitted a low, guttural growl at the cry of his name, he snapped his hips with rough urgency, each movement punctuated by the slick, intoxicating sound of his frame slamming into them. "So good for me," Perceptor's voice rumbled with desire. "Taking me so well." he couldn't help but purr in delight at the sensation of their tightness.

With each powerful thrust, he sought to imprint himself upon them, to claim them as his, Only his. They cry out loudly as he bites down on their shoulder, their orgasm racking thier body and they clench around Perceptor, sobbed moans leave them as he hits his own release. A guttural groan rumbling in his vocalizer, Perceptor reached the peak of his own pleasure, A loud snarl leaves him as he perks his hips into them dragging them back down as he lets out a hot vented air against their body.

They two stay locked against each other as they pant. Bright pink transfluid drips from them, down into Preceptor's lap into the chair they are both sat on. They let out a shaky breath before they speak. "I hope that helped '' they call out while rolling their head back to smile up at Perceptor. His systems hummed with contentment as they remained entwined in the aftermath of their passionate union. Perceptor's own optics softened at the sight of their smile. "It did," Perceptor responded, his voice a mix of gratitude and sincerity. When they try to pull away Perceptor grips their hips holding them still against his spike not ready to let go of them yet. “your going to say there until I've finished working” he mumbles to them as he presses a kiss to their shoulder

_____________

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j0kers-light · 4 months ago

Note

hi bae, ik youve been going thru a rough patch i hope(in fact ik) you’ll bounce back harder.🫶🏻

i really wanted to make a request for a long long time now, no pressure write it whenever u feel like it i am just going to drop it here.

for me J has always been a Lana del rey song specially the ultra violence album, he’s shades of blue, he’s ultraviolenec, smts hes even brooklyn baby. Can you write something dark, like real dark where hes possessive, violent, exatcly like he was in TDK. Pulling stunts and dropping hints. maybe he kidnappes the reader or smt like that, he’s acting all crazy and violent but something inside him just makes him slip to a lil caring or loving side every now and then, which eventually leads to some serious SMUT 😏😏

the reader could be his enemy’s daughter(maybe even batman’s daughter lol i am going wild) he tortures her,loves her, takes care of her then tortures her a lil more but make no mistake the reader is a fireball she gives him that lil fight they have in her which makes J even more attached to her.

ik i am just blabbing and making no sense, but i hope ukwim. i am also attaching a link to my fav J edit ever which might give u an outline of what i am trying to say. maybe even add J’s POV.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CqyP1PdveA9/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

okay ill shut up now. feel better love you 🫶🏻

His Lighthouse: Broken Dolls (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Broken Dolls - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A STORY UPDATE!

I feel ashamed that you had to wait so long for this request. Forgive me times a thousand @heathisbae !! I still love you and I got carried away with the word count. (10,500 words!!) I promise you that my blood, sweat, and tears went into this request. You should've let me stay in my enclosure. I LOVE DARK requests and I was in a dark and lonely place when I wrote this. The perfect mood for Broken Dolls.

Gather round children it’s time to go over some legal stuff. I usually do not care about trigger warnings. You are responsible for your own reading pleasure, BUT I’ll add a TW: List because yall gone need it. Chaos had a lil bit too much fun writing this one.. 👀😬

TW! Dark!Joker. rape, knife, blood, impact, choking, power play, dacryphilia, spitting, biting kinks, unprotected sex, overstimulation if you squint, degradation, no prep (foreplay is important kids) uhhhh… I’m missing something. 🤔 It’s canon Joker people. He’s a walking trigger warning.

Just be careful if you decide to read this one. I know I went overboard but your mental health is always my top priority. Enjoy or not. It’s entirely up to you. Since its a dark request, I decided not to tag anyone except @heathisbae Read at your own risk 🖤✨

Your father made it virtually impossible for anyone to find out. By fate’s design, you looked nothing like the iconic figure you called “father”, and you were forever grateful for that.

Your skin complexion, eye, and hair color masked you from the surname that was your birthright. You were the rumored Wayne heiress that Gotham City whispered about. Many far and wide longed to meet you to strengthen their businesses by marriage, whereas others flat out questioned your conception.

Bruce Wayne had neither confirmed nor denied the mother of any of his children to the world. Not like he ever would. There were only a few secrets Bruce had left in this world: you being the most important one.

Your life would be in danger if anyone were to find out you were a Wayne or worse, the precious daughter of Batman.

Many were adopted into the bat family, but you were blood to Bruce. A last-ditch effort he made to secure his family’s legacy; He hired a surrogate.

Should Batman ever fall in combat, you could pick up the torch and continue the Wayne legacy.

At an early age you wanted to make your father proud and wisely decided not to follow in his footsteps moonlighting as a vigilante. The eldest boys, Dick and Jason, celebrated for days. They loved their half-sister and supported every decision you make, but they would’ve put their foot down should you have wished to don a bat suit.

Instead of violence, you dedicated your life to education. Only the best schools with full ride scholarships—your cv was lengthy as it was profound. You spoke multiple foreign languages, held many accreditations issued from all over the globe, and excelled at virtually every extra-curricular skill you could think of.

You were a hardworking, driven woman with a no-nonsense attitude. That much, you got from your mother.

You dominated any boardroom you entered, and your famous e/c eyes could make or break contracts with a single look. Now that was all your father’s genes. You gave the phrase, beauty and brains, a living breathing, mascot and Bruce couldn’t be prouder.

That unfortunately made you a target.

You shied away from public humanitarian appearances to avoid being recognized as a Wayne. Too many similarities with Bruce would make people curious. Instead, you worked behind a smokescreen and attended the many charities and sponsorship parties as a third-party spectator to oversee your work.

That way, you got to see your hard work being implemented into the community—far better results than your father’s monetary donations provided.

You took pride knowing your hard work was creating a change in Gotham City. With the safeguards Bruce and the boys had in place; it would take an actual genius to put the numerous clues together to uncover your identity. You could live in relative peace while still making a difference.

Sadly, your long forgotten surrogate mother would soon threaten life as you knew it.

Joker prided himself in being a vigilant man. Nothing, not even the smallest of details, went unnoticed by him and when it came to his best friend Batman, J took extra care to notice every little thing.

The level of surveillance Joker did on the dark knight bordered on obsession but in a way, he was. Joker strived to be twelve steps ahead of his arch-nemesis in order to maintain his freedom. Being shipped back to Arkham was not an option, so he took information gathering very seriously.

Joker knew that Batman was Bruce Wayne for years. He was surprised other Gotham villains or just the local law enforcement didn’t put the clues together. It was so obvious.

There was no point in telling the world Batman’s not so little secret, but when Joker studied the daily life of Bruce Wayne a bit further, now that was a blackmail gold mine. Having a one up on Bats just felt good and especially when Joker discovered the perfect weapon that would break the man once and for all.

You.

Tucked away and hidden in plain sight; Y/n Wayne, the perfect tool for Joker’s plans.

A father’s worst nightmare, seeing their child in distress, Joker looked forward to scaring Bruce with this latest prank. All he had to do was get close enough to steal you away, but Bruce kept you protected twenty-four seven. Smart man and Joker didn’t blame his bestie for being a protective father.

There were dangerous people out there who would dream of your demise if they knew the truth!

No, it was much easier to track down your mother and it was mere child’s play to make her talk. Joker thoroughly enjoyed extracting as much information from the woman before her untimely demise.

He found it was unfair that she was virtually defenseless while you had security tighter than most world leaders. It wasn’t fair in Joker’s book, so he set out to put your safeguards to the test.

And what achievement it was to outsmart Batman at his own game.

You should’ve known better. Dad drilled it into your brain time and time again to always be aware of your surroundings.

There was no such thing as a coincidence. Things happened for a reason, and it was up to you to detect any signs of danger at any given time.

The same could be said for that fateful night. You were feeling a bit overwhelmed by a journalist at a charity event. She kept asking probing questions—a few hitting too close for comfort about your identity.

How ironic that you attended every event the rumored Wayne heiress organized and knew so much about her personal affairs. What a coincidence how reporters asked you questions like you were the boss..

The curious woman would not leave you alone! Her mindless chitchat felt more like an interrogation by the minute. You feared your identity was compromised after one of her questions rang true, but she simply laughed it off and said that if you were indeed a Wayne, “You’d be way prettier.”

Whatever that meant.

Perhaps the comment hit hard since your longtime friend/rival, Lana, stole attention from the fund raiser with her scandalous outfit. The brunette reeked of new money and had an ego the size of Metropolis, demanding attention wherever she went.

Her appearance ruined your event for helping orphaned kids and turned it into a mini Met Gala. You had every right for storming out to scream into the back alley. She never failed at ruining things!

You were really letting your frustration be heard when a whistle nearby startled you.

“Listen to the pipes on that one.”

You quickly stopped screaming once you realized that you weren’t alone. A lone male was smoking in the same alley, and he locked eyes with you once he caught your attention.

They were an unnatural green that felt familiar however, you couldn’t place where you might’ve seen them before.

“By all means... don’t let me keep ya from your.. uhh temper tantrum.” He blew a long puff of smoke into the night air.

At first you were in shock, but that reaction soon turned into irritation. Just who did he think he was talking to you like that? “I am not having a tantrum thank you very much a-and... you can’t smoke here!”

He simply chuckled while taking another drag. You crossed your arms and tapped your heels on the concrete as you waited for a response. This guy was something else.

“Hello? Did you hear me?” You added.

“Yup.” He popped the letter p, “Loud n’ clear. Pretty sure this area is ah... employees only. Ya wouldn’t catch me smokin’ if ya weren’t out here being a brat, hm?”

He had a point, but you still scoffed at his choice of words. You had the idea of using your title as the boss of this event to get him fired; yet he would surely talk and by morning, Gotham City would know that you’re a Wayne. That was the last thing you wanted; however, it was worth the hassle if it got rid of him.

For now, all you could do was shake your head at this strange man breaking your employee’s no smoking rule. You personally selected all the staff for the event and your security team performed background checks on everyone to ensure your safety.

The gentlemen sitting before you did not jog your memory.

His presence made you uneasy and you took a step back, “Do I know you?”

He snorted, smoke emerging from his nostrils in comical puffs. “Uh no, but I knoooo~ooow you.”

The blood in your veins ran cold when the stranger stood up and stepped into the light. “Didn’t your dad tell ya not to talk to strangers Miss Wayne?” He said mockingly.

You took one look at The Joker’s grotesque scars and turned to run.

Joker grinned and let you have a running start although you didn’t get far. Your feet got caught in your dress fabric and made his job relatively easy. The two of you tumbled to the ground, Joker landing on your back, but that quickly changed with a sharp elbow to his nose.

You didn’t stick around to see if your hit landed, you just scrambled to your feet and tried to reach for the back door when a hand grabbing your ankle disrupted your sense of balance. One second you were upright, the next, you were on the ground seeing double vision.

Joker didn’t think you’d put up much of a fight. His research into you was limited, but he doubted that you had any of the fighting skills your father was notorious for.

Technically he was right. You had taken up self defense training from Jason and he reported that you sucked at it.

Despite your lack of skills and concussion, you weren’t going down without a fight. One of your nails scratched Joker’s elongated smile causing it to bleed and suddenly, he had enough of your little games.

You were making too much noise, and his window of opportunity to kidnap you was running out. If he didn’t move you soon, his plan would be ruined. You just had to make things difficult for him.

“Alrighty Y/n, time for a little nap. Shhhhh... shh easy now.” Joker dodged your wild punch to his face as he dug a syringe out of his pocket.

The sight of it made you panic and fight back harder but your scream of help was drowned out by a roar of applause from inside. The auction must’ve ended with a success. Joker pierced your skin and watched the milky white substance disappear into your system.

It was cold seeping into your veins as you still tried to fight back.

“Aht ahttttt don’t fight it. Let it happen.” Joker crooned into your ear; not like you could hear him. Your body felt so heavy, you lost function of your limbs so suddenly it was terrifying.

The Joker’s obnoxious laugh sounded miles away from you. When your eyelashes fluttered closed, Joker knew victory was his.

The environment that you woke up in was dark and cold.

Your limbs were still groggy with whatever The Joker had injected you with and after a few test stretches, you still had motion in them. Although it would do you no good. The distinctive sound of metal on metal gave away your current predicament.

You were chained to something.

You tried not to panic but you were unable to see anything a few inches in front of you much less see how far the chain allowed you to move. You felt something solid underneath you and concluded that it was some sort of mattress or padding. It was a small comfort while being confined in total darkness.

Wherever you were, The Joker was to blame, and you weren’t going to let him have this much power over you. You had to find a way out before he started his sick form of entertainment.

Every citizen of Gotham knew Joker’s M.O. You didn’t want to be tortured to death all for a laugh.

You waited until your eyes adjusted to the dim surroundings before exploring how much freedom you truly had.

You felt around in the darkness until your hands bumped into something solid. It was a surface with nothing that could help you escape on it, so you moved on. Minutes felt like hours as you stumbled through the dark, searching for anything useful. Just when you thought you were painting a clear picture of the room in your head, a door opened beside you.

The blinding light was nothing compared to the searing pain of the door hitting you square in the face or that of the trauma caused by falling to the ground.

The room was still spinning when your loudmouth got the better of you.

“What’s your f__king problem?!” You cried out. You feared that your nose was broken, it sure felt like it with the amount of blood you felt gushing out. The Joker didn’t seem phased by the display.

Instead, he stepped right over you and flicked on a light, blinding you in the process. “Errr let’s see... problems. MY problem.. Social injustice? Global warming…uhhh rush hour traffic?” Joker paused for dramatic effect and slowly turned to face you. You froze, feeling his emerald eyes rake over your form hungrily.

The unnatural hue seemed to suck you in the longer you stared. “You.” Joker purred.

“M-Me?” How were you a problem? He abducted you not the other way round!

You had never crossed paths with the Clown Prince of Crime until tonight. The two of you couldn’t be more worlds apart. You stayed nose deep in your humanitarian work and out of any trouble whereas The Joker was trouble personified.

The only thing that linked you to Joker was your father, yet you doubted the clown was smart enough to put all the puzzle pieces together to uncover that.

You prayed that this was all some sort of misunderstanding but judging how The Joker was staring, your hopes began to shatter one by one.

You instinctively shielded your body from the known threat and in doing so, your skin brushed against unknown material. The formal dress you originally wore for the evening was gone and replaced by a thin t-shirt and baggy men’s pants. The implications were not lost on you.

You turned to glare at the madman before you. “Who changed my clothes!?” If you were able to blush, you knew you’d be redder than a tomato.

This man obviously had no respect for women. He simply threw his head back and laughed, “The pleasure is allllllllllll mine.”

You failed at hiding your full body shudder and even worse, you were unable to silence yourself from talking trash. “Screw you.” You regretted saying it the moment you opened your mouth.

The room suddenly got quiet. Joker sauntered his way over to your mattress and crouched down so he could be eye level with you. He admired the fire burning within your e/c eyes for a time. Such a strong wielded fire, it was beautiful to behold. If Joker had his way, there would only be smoking embers after he had his fun. He would make sure of it.

The Joker always had an air of drama about him, and it took center stage as he spoke to you. “Ya wanna.. know something? You should be lucK-yyyy my boys didn’t change ya. They would’ve loved to uh.. what did ya say? Screw you.”

His choice of words held more meaning as he tried to brush a few strands of hair out of your face. You shut down that idea by chomping at his fingers the second they were within your reach.

You refused to sit around like some damsel in destress until dad or one of the boys came to rescue you. You would fight back even if it killed you.

To Joker, your little stunt was comical. You could rebel all you wanted; your antics would never compare to what he had in store for you.

He simply wagged his paint-stained fingers at you like a scolding parent and insulted you further. “Mm, feisty! I like thaT. But that’s no way to behave while you’re here. No noooo. No. You are a verry special guest, Y/n!”

Joker walked over to the table that you found earlier. You watched as he pulled out a tripod and took the time to set up a camera in your general direction. Once it was positioned to his liking, he mashed a button—and to your horror, a red light began to blink.

“Tada! May I present.... Y/n, my lead-ing lady in this uh.. short film of mine! The title you ask? Why it’s, How to Break Batman’s Little Girl 101!”

Joker’s words were like a sucker punch to your gut. They bounced off the thick walls of the room and echoed back in your eardrum's times a hundred. Your worst nightmare was happening right before your eyes. Not only did someone know who you were, but dad’s long kept secret was out—and his arch-nemesis of all people, knew about it.

You were blinking a mile a minute and Joker thought your lips flailing like a fish was oh so adorable. Kissable really but he shook that odd thought away.

He hyped up his performance so much, you weren’t sure if he was addressing you or the camera at this point.

“Oh come now, Y/n. Don’t act so sur-prised! I knew Bats’ secret for years now. We are friends ya know.... Mmm on second thought. Ya might wanna work on the security Batsy.. I just so happened to waltz in and steal your precious.... and might I add.... beau-ti-ful daughter away easy peasy. Did I mention she’s verrrry beautiful?”

You snapped out of your panic by Joker’s fingers grazing your cheek. Your response was instinctive by slapping his hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

Joker wasted no time reacting to your outburst. His gentle touch turned cruel and struck your face hard enough to turn it sideways right into the wall.

He quickly grabbed ahold of your jaw and yanked you back upright. You were forced to bear witness to his self-inflicted scars, all jagged and swollen up close. It was a permanent reminder just how insane this man truly was. Joker’s nails dug into your cheek and for a split second, you genuinely feared this man.

His green eyes were almost electric staring into your soul. “You’re mine now and I’ll touch ya however I want. Got thaT?”

Joker saw the insult queuing up in your brain and squeezed your face tighter in his grasp. You whined but still managed to part your lips to respond. “I’m not yours.” You growled.

A brief staring contest ensued. Green verses your e/c.

Joker admired your bravery; you questioned his sanity. He dressed the part of a gentleman with his three-piece suit and coattails (despite the outlandish colors) yet he was so far removed from the title. He was unpredictable in every sense of the word that you weren’t sure if you would survive a moment longer in his presence.

You were confident that someone would come save you, Joker thought you were too naïve to understand the gravity of your situation. In any case, he would have ample time to extinguish the fire blazing in your eyes before someone started searching for you.

He was so caught up crafting his mental plans, he didn’t notice the glint in your eye right before you bit his hand.

It hardly phased him and for your efforts you received a rough shove towards the ground. Thankfully the mattress softened the blow however you still had the strength to glare at The Joker in disdain.

“Let’s see how long that feisty streak of yours last hmm?” Joker chuckled under his breath and walked over to the door.

The sudden change in brightness blinded you again but this time you caught a glimpse of a bulky man guarding the door before he and Joker disappeared from sight.

Finally you were alone with your thoughts. The first thing you did was let out a shaky sigh and glance at the camera still recording you. The Joker didn’t turn it off and you concluded its sole purpose was to monitor you and collect material for the ransom cd your dad would receive.

You choked back a sob just thinking about dad. He would be beside himself knowing you were abducted. Finding out that his greatest enemy took you would be a low blow—one you hoped he would overcome in order to rescue you. Dick and Jason would steer the detective in the right direction but with every hour that passed, you knew dad would slowly lose his mind. He knew firsthand what Joker was capable of. Your nose throbbed bitterly as a harsh reminder.

There was nothing stopping the clown from killing you if he simply became bored.

If only you took dad’s words to heart and abided by his strict security measures. You had snuck away from your detail for a bit of privacy. Now you regretted that dumb decision. You were in Joker’s clutches with no chance of escape, and it was all your fault.

He chained you to a bedpost like some animal and now that there was light in the room, you could see it in its entirety.

It was a mini prison right down to the bare necessities. The Joker had every intention of keeping you here, cut off from Gotham City, most likely below ground to disrupt the bat tracker embedded in you since childhood.

You scratched at your wrist, praying that it miraculously still worked despite the odds. Surely your father, the world’s greatest detective, could locate his daughter with much less.

It was the only reassurance you had.

You were getting tired overthinking your predicament. There was nothing you could do at present, so with one last hesitant glance at the video recorder, you tried your best to get comfortable on the mattress and fall asleep.

That became your routine. Time held no value anymore.

Was it a few days? Weeks? Longer? How were you to know? You were confined to four concrete walls with no form of contact, save for the ever present blinking red light watching your every move.

You were forced to use the horrendous facilities they called a bathroom, and meals (which were surprisingly great) were brought to your room like clockwork while you were asleep.

You began to look forward to the tray that would magically appear on your table. It was the only connection to the outside world you had, and you didn’t take it for granted.

There was always a special treat on your dinner plate and it never failed at putting a smile on your face regardless of being a prisoner. You tried to keep a grip on your sanity with these small bouts of happiness, but it was obvious what angle Joker was playing at.

He was using isolation to mentally break you and it was working.

You thought being locked away all alone would be easy, but the constant silence was unbearable and before long you began to fear when Joker would return.

Not fearing him specifically, but of what you might do for a sliver of human interaction.

That visit came unexpectedly. You woke up from a nap sensing a presence inside your room. Sadly, you had embraced having hallucinations during your lengthy stay here, but this one felt a little too real.

Something didn’t feel right. “H-Hello?”

The door was still closed with the lights dimmed and there wasn’t a tray of food dropped by, so you glanced near the bathroom area on pure instincts. Nothing was inside the room except that camera that you loathed so much. Its constant flashing light both annoyed and comforted you. At least you weren’t completely alone.

You sighed to yourself and was about to fall back asleep when you felt something move behind you. Joker’s laugh blended in with your scream as you tried to scramble away.

You didn’t get far given that Joker dragged you back towards him.

The last thing you expected after waking up was a man lying in the same bed as you. It was a natural response to freak out, especially since it was The Joker pinning you to the mattress. “YOU SICK F__K! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?”

You didn’t see the way Joker's eyes glazed over or the way his hands tightened around you before he grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Have I lost my… have I.. losT my mind?”

You tried to pry his hands off you, but Joker was just too strong as he continued to repeat your question over and over. His manic laughter was deafening in your ear. “Have I lost my mind, Y/n? Or have you?”

You looked up into pools of jade that glinted mockingly down at you. “What are you...?”

Joker cut you off by directing your gaze to the camera in the room. “Did ya forget I’ve been watching you this entire time doll? Talking to yourself, your uh... hopeless words of affirmation? Oh Dad will come, he’ll come save me! Hang in there, Y/n! You’re so braaaaaave and strong!”’

Joker’s imitation of your voice was cringeworthy as he repeated your own words out loud. He mocked your defiant spirit and hopes of escape as if it was a joke. Strangely enough, Joker’s tone softened, and he sounded sincere with his next angle of attack.

“You just don’t get iT. Daddy’s not coming Y/n. No one knows you’re missing, and nooo one cares either. It’s been a month now doll. If Daddy Bats really cared about his precious daughter, he would’ve rescued you by now don’tcha think?”

Joker was just messing with you. This was another tactic of his to break you down. He was a master of manipulation and his way with words was just as dangerous as his work with knives. His sole existence was to harm others and yet with your fragile state of mind, a part of you believed him.

You couldn’t believe that a month had passed with no one trying to find you. Was Joker telling the truth?

It was too absurd to believe. “N-No.... no dad cares about me. He wouldn't.... he wouldn’t give up..” You whispered. You didn’t know who you were trying to convince here, you or The Joker.

He must’ve seen the doubt starting to creep in for he pushed you a little further. “Are you sure, Y/n? He’s a uh, busy bat! Fighting crime always comes first, you know that better than anyyyyy one. He’s never had time for you...” Joker smiled, watching you blink back tears.

He enjoyed every minute of tearing down your defenses one lie at a time.

He leaned away and bit back a smile when you followed, seeking his contact. You were making this child’s play for him.

“Bats always sent ya away when you were younger. Never letting you err.. blossom to your fullest. He hid you away because you were a failure to him. A mistake. He never cared about you! But guess whaT?”

Joker waited until you looked up into his grassy green eyes. Were they always so expressive or was it your imagination that made them sparkle? It was the first source of human contact you had in who knows how long. You felt special to have The Joker staring at you the way he was.

The air in the room was filled with static energy as you waited for Joker’s next words. You craved validation, acceptance, and attention at a time like this. The Joker had starved you for far too long in isolation.

His hand raised up and softly caressed the side of your face and you missed how his eyes lingered on your lips longer than intended.

“I care Y/n.” He chuckled seeing you pout, “I mean iT! I’ve been so ah.. cruel to ya. I should’ve treated you better. You want me to treat ya better doll?”

Joker leaned forward and kissed both of your cheeks. The contact made you jump and blink up at him in shock. If he couldn’t hear your heart beating wildly, then he was deaf.

You soaked up his form of human contact like a sponge. How long had you been wasting away in this room?

Was it really a month like Joker had said? Right as Joker was leaning down to kiss you properly, you had a moment of clarity.

Who was to blame for you being trapped in here? Why were you here in the first place? The answer was right in front of you, buttering you up with sweet lies and fake affection. Joker was playing you like a fiddle, and you were weak enough to fall for it.

Not anymore.

The Joker was the enemy. He was full of lies. Dad would never abandon you so why were so inclined to believe this green haired clown? No amount of isolation, no form of torture, could break you to believe such. You couldn’t give up so easily. You were a Wayne. You were born a fighter.

Joker’s scarred lips ghosted against yours as you shoved him away. “You are nothing but a liar.”

You enjoyed his brief moment of shock before his eyes cooled into the hard emeralds that they were.

And just like that the act was over. One second you were in the comfort of Joker’s arms, the next you were tossed aside like trash and his true colors were revealed.

He towered over you like a titan as you tried to back away but there was simply nowhere to go. You were at Joker’s mercy, and he spared you none. Each kick to your body made you cry out for Joker to stop but he didn’t listen, rather he laughed and kicked harder.

You grabbed his ankle and begged him to stop but he jerked free and stomped on your wrist in retaliation. The audible crack was background noise to your earsplitting scream— yet it was all music to Joker’s ears.

He enjoyed the pain of others and yours was icing on the cake.

You sounded so pretty, so helpless and filled with anguish. He wanted to hear more. He was obsessed. How far could he push you until you gave under pressure?

Two knocks on the door stole Joker’s attention and his eyes watched as another person entered the room. Joker knew who it was. Anyone else wouldn’t dare enter while he had his fun.

Frost took one look at you sobbing on the floor before he focused his attention back on his boss. “We got trouble.”

Joker rolled his eyes at Frost for interrupting his fun although it was probably for the best. He didn’t want to break you just yet. Slow and steady won the race and he had all he time in the world to do so.

He might’ve went overboard today judging by how you visibly flinched when he moved in your direction, but he knew you’d bounce back defiant as ever. You had to.

“You’ll have to uhh, excuse me Y/n. It seems.. I’m needed elsewhere. Don’t. You. Move.” He patted your head and laughed all the way out the door.

The heavy sound of it closing did little to silence your tears.

The pain was nothing. You were more upset with yourself for not being stronger. Joker was destroying your fighting spirit in record time and you were powerless to stop him.

The bruises never faded, and it made sleeping even more difficult on your worn mattress.

Sure, Joker was considerate enough to cast your broken wrist, but it was a small gesture compared to the verbal and added physical abuse he bestowed upon you daily.

You became Joker’s personal punching bag and there was no end in sight to your suffering.

Each time the door opened, you were forced to endure Joker’s twisted mind games or his heavy hand. It didn’t matter that you were a woman, in his eyes you deserved every ounce of pain that he inflicted. And when he finally left you bleeding and holding back tears, your own thoughts tortured you some more.

Did father really abandon you? How was the world’s greatest detective, renowned for his state-of-the-art technology and gadgets, unable to locate his only daughter?

The days blended together and all the hope you originally had of being rescued, diminished.

The Joker enjoyed his daily visits with you but he could tell that it wasn’t enough. Your body was obviously battered yet your mind remained intact.

You still possessed a thread of hope that made you defiant to the end. You spat in Joker's face whenever he was in range, and you rolled your eyes at his half-hearted jokes about killing you.

“Then do it.” Your snide remarks often led to more beatings that did little to fulfill Joker’s goal.

Nothing seemed to be working to ultimately break you, so he decided to try a different angle.

You woke up to the smell of food in the air. Your stomach growled in want, but the reset of your body hurt too much to move. You debated skipping eating all together in favor of rest however that choice was made for you.

“Sit up.”

His voice. The root of all of your problems. You didn’t have the strength to be bothered with him today.

Joker waited for you to move yet when you remained lying down, he became agitated. “I won’T re-peat myself doll.”

Your voice cracked with your response. “I can’t. It hurts.” You just wanted to be left alone, to hurt in peace but Joker controlled everything here. As if you had a choice to begin with.

“Lemme help you.”

Just hearing the offer gave you the strength to flip over to face him. Surely he was joking. He wanted to help you?! After all he did? Screw the consequences, you had to speak your mind.

“Help me? You want to help me? Okay then. Go away! Far… far away and leave me alone! Or even better! Let me go! What’s the point of keeping me here? What do you want from me?!”

During your speech you began to cry and Joker (for the first time in his life) felt guilty. Your timeless beauty was marred by cuts and bruises that he caused, and he couldn’t justify his actions for creating them.

Somewhere along the way Joker lost focus of the mission.

It was all a game— to get at Batman but along the way Joker saw how strong you truly were. Anything he tossed your way, you deflected it with ease. You never faltered, never lost hope. Even now as you lay weak and hungry, your eyes set him ablaze.

You had won, he just didn’t know at what.

Joker didn’t know what else to do with this failed experiment of his. One thing was certain, he wasn’t letting you go. There was something about you that he couldn’t put his finger on.

Your rant fizzled off as you stared at Joker.

There was an odd gleam in his eyes that you were wary of. He looked lost in thought and when he snapped to, you were shocked to see a genuine smile appear on his lips.

You feared what his thoughts could lead to.

To mask your fear, you rolled your eyes at his lack of an answer and reached for your dinner tray. Your groan of pain made Joker wince. Were you really in that much pain?

Without thinking, he smacked your hand away and stabbed a portion of food with the provided fork. The two of you stared at each other in silence waiting for the other to make a move.

“I can feed myself.” You grumbled.

Joker gave you an, ‘are you sure about that’ look and tapped the fork to your lips.

Just thinking about moving used up too much energy and your muscles begged for you to take him up on the offer. The Joker, Gotham City’s notorious criminal, wanted to feed you dinner; who were you to deny him?

You begrudgingly opened your mouth while looking away from his smug green eyes.

The act was so demoralizing, but you kept your cool while chewing in silence and opening your mouth for the next morsel.

Just to be cheeky, you closed your lips around the fork and refused to let go. Joker didn’t think it was funny but he entertained your bratty behavior nonetheless. He considered stabbing your tongue—but thought against it. There was no need to be violent.

He was trying a different angle to this whole hostage situation he created. Your defenses were down tonight and he would be a fool not to take advantage of them.

A quick glance to his right confirmed that the video camera was still recording. Perhaps it was time to send a message to daddy dearest and make some progress.

You were under the impression that Joker was taking pity on you with his nice guy act. He was patient, feeding you bites of food and not shoving it down your throat like he’d done in the past when you tried starving yourself.

He was being.. (dare you say it) nice. You should’ve known it was too good to be true.

He finished feeding you and you thought he was moving onto the slice of cake that was on the tray. You had been eyeing it since Joker uncovered it and you licked your lips thinking about the delectable treat.

It would have to wait. There was an ominous shift in the air that completely blindsided you.

Joker didn’t know what came over him. He didn’t have any plans when he entered your room tonight. It was supposed to be a simple food drop—nothing more, but the moment his eyes landed on you curled up on the mattress resting so beautifully, what left of his demented mind, checked out early.

This past month and a half was filled with harsh lessons and far too many close calls. Batman and his ban of birds did everything in their power to find you and they almost succeeded once or twice.

Thankfully Joker was smart enough to place you inside a shipping container so you could always be mobile and out of reach. You hardly noticed the frequent moves since he coordinated them during your sleeping hours. It also ensured your meals were always hot and fresh since they could just travel to wherever Joker deemed fit to your standards.

Everything was planned down to the smallest detail, everything except developing feelings for you.

Now that was out of Joker’s control.

Underneath the clown façade, Joker was still a man and you were absolutely stunning with your aristocratic beauty and educated mind.

Your fierce personality drew him in despite you being a means to an end. You were supposed to be a form of entertainment, a toy until Joker got bored and let Batman have his daughter back but over time, Joker became attached to you in an unhealthy way.

You were Joker’s property, his special secret hidden from the world to do with as he so pleased.

He stopped hitting you and allowed you time to heal due to some unknown form of guilt. More and more tasty desserts were included with your meals to make up for his abusive behavior, and unbeknownst to you, Joker watched you sleep every night.

There was something soothing watching you blissfully unaware of the monster in your bed. He could slit your throat in your sleep but he didn’t. No, that would be a waste.

Joker found it better to sleep beside you and hold you close. He knew you would freak out if you knew all the liberties that he took while you were asleep.

From tracing your major arteries with a knife to leaving lipstick marks all over your skin—his feelings for you were disturbing and perfectly justified in his opinion.

Joker didn’t want the traditional lovey dovey crap most couples shared because he wasn’t normal. He wanted to own, to control, to destroy you completely and then protect the broken pieces that remained.

There was no concept of love in Joker’s mind and there never would be. Seeing you so docile as he fed you was the breaking point. He got a taste of your submissive side and craved more.

Why couldn’t you just give in and break already? You brought this upon yourself. You forced Joker to do this.

He blocked out the sound of your cries and wrestled your arms down to onto the mattress. His only goal was to get you naked and when you began to struggle more, he took matters into his own hands.

Joker grabbed the army knife from his pocket and sliced your clothes off. One motion caught your skin and you howled as the sharp metal tore it open. Joker saw red bubble to the surface and dove down to lick you clean.

He didn’t like hearing your voice filled with pain. It distracted him from getting hard and after staring you in the eye, you quickly got the message. Keep quiet or else.

You tried not to make a sound louder than your whimpers. You didn’t want to provoke Joker’s wrath.

“Much better. So pretty.” Joker hummed to himself when you were laid bare beneath him although he frowned seeing tears staining your cheeks. “Shhhhhh, hey hey. Look at me... Behave and it won’t hurT.”

He watched your lip wobble as you remained quiet. Your wrists were being held down by Joker’s hand, leaving you powerless to squirm away and he loved the power scale tipping in his favor. Good. You would always be beneath him.

He struggled a bit to unzip his fly but managed to get his cock out without letting you go. A shame you were being bratty and didn’t prepare yourself for this. He really had to do everything around here.

Joker spat on his hand and worked it up and down his cock, groaning to himself at the feeling. His eyes roamed over his doll and admired your beauty mid stoke. You had curves in all the right places that begged to be fondled. He wanted to touch them, but if he let go of your hands, you would act out.

He could see the fire burning in your eyes. If he gave you an inch, you’d take a mile.

Yet it was criminal not to mark you up the way he wanted.

Joker sighed as he lined himself up with your pussy. You panicked and tried moving away from his tip tapping your opening with heavy slaps to no avail.

“Are ya gonna behave doll?”

He shifted his weight and applied more pressure on your healing broken wrist when you continued to rebel. The searing pain made you bite your lip and cease struggling altogether.

“Now. Are you gonna be a errr.. good doll for me n’ stay realllllllly still?” Joker sang.

Your lip curled back, ready to cuss him out, instead a loud scream took escaped your lips as Joker began to force his way inside your dry entrance.

It burned. It ached. He was tearing you apart and you shook your head in agony as it continued without end. You didn’t think about the consequences, you bucked your hips away from the unwanted invasion.

You knew you were in trouble the moment Joker said your name in warning.

“What. Did. I just say doll? Dumb b___h.”

Joker let go of your wrists to hold your hips instead. Once he found purchase, he began thrusting in and out of your pussy. His pleasure was your torment. Your silent tears spurred him on and he swatted your hands away that tried to push him off.

Nothing would stop him after he got a taste of you. He was an idiot for not taking you sooner.

“Haha, you’re grippin’ me soooooo tight doll. Ease up for me!” Joker groaned louder to drown out your pathetic pleas. He would not slow down; you were too perfect to stop now.

He noticed the camera in the corner and got an idea. “Are ya enjoying yourself, doll? Why don’tcha give the ah.. a-audience a good show? Go on. Tell him how you feel.”

You forgot all about the recorder in the room! Your sharp gasp was music to his ears. You tried to turn away, but Joker would have none of that. He grabbed your jaw and forcibly turned your face towards the lens. Your tears were a paid actor for his production.

“Ya see that Bats? ThaT, oh f__k... t-that is the face of your failure. She’s all mine and I’m gonna take ahaha.. verrry good care of her. All mine.. d__n it..” Joker choked back a moan and licked the tears from your face as he sped up his thrusts. If he kept this up, he would cum before the fun really started. Although he shouldn’t have to be the only one getting off.

With a smug grin, he snaked a hand down to rub messy circles on your clit.

The response was instantaneous. You threw your head back with a mewl on your tongue. He felt the result of his adventurous touch the same time you let out an unexpected moan. “Oh? Ya like that doll?” He mocked.

He laughed at you trying to deny deny deny but your body was speaking on your behalf.

You tightened around him and he felt the slick begin to coat his cock. He arched an eyebrow at the sudden turn of events. You really were enjoying this. He wondered...

He stroked your clit faster and was rewarded by another sweet moan gracing his ears. His doll made the prettiest sounds under distress. He could see the confusion dancing across your features.

“Ohhhhhh Bats! You have a naughty.. naughty girl! Enjoying my touch after begging me to stop just minutes ago? Ah.. mmm, it's okay doll! M-Moan louder. Enjoy ittt, I know I am. Mm, you feel better the uh wetter you become.”

Joker stopped mid thrust when you clenched down unexpectedly on him. Were you trying to crush him to death?

He wondered if you could feel him throbbing in your pussy. Your tiny fists were beating on his clothed chest but there was no point in pretending.

You were enjoying yourself and if he was correct to assume, you were getting close. You just needed a little push and Joker had just the thing.

“I knew you were secretly a whore. Only dirty sluts get off on being used like a toy. Hehe. It's a-always the quiet ones f__k!” Joker chuckled to himself followed by a shuddering groan. You were very close. He had to act fast.

Without warning he bit down hard on your shoulder. You moaned out before covering your mouth with your hand. It was too late; Joker already knew what kind of woman you were. He bit harder and rejoiced as blood bubbled up to the surface to coat his lips. Finally, he was marking you up the way you deserved.

He sped up his thrusts, laughing at the sloppy sound of wet skin on skin in the room. His cock happily slid in and out of your pussy now that you were horny.

You were shaking your head in denial even as your legs shivered on Joker’s shoulders. He licked the fresh bite mark clean before whispering in your ear.

“Let go Y/n. Shatter into a thousand tiny lit-tle pieces— and when you snap them back together, I'll be righT here to ruin you all over again. And again. And again. I will always break you just the way you need. The way you deserve. So go on. Do itttt. B-Break for me.... For us.”

Joker thought you were beautiful before, seeing you admit defeat and cum was a vision from heaven.

Your cheeks darkened in color as your lips parted like the sea to allow carnal bliss to fall from its depths. You twitched uncontrollably in Joker’s hold, and he was more than happy to pull you in close as you fell apart on his cock.

You rode the wave of pleasure and swept Joker along with the force. He was caught off guard by your tightening cunt and came with your name a whisper on his lips.

No drug could ever compare to the high you gave him.

He saw new sounds and heard colors that he couldn’t name. His breath came in short pants as he came down. Words failed him, his head was still too foggy to process the world around him.

What could one say after an orgasm that intense? He just came inside your quivering hole, and he already wanted to do it again.

He couldn’t find the energy to even think coherently! All he could do was flop down next to you and sort out his senses in the right categories.

His paint-stained hands wandered aimlessly and began playing with the ends of your hair, much to your horror. While Joker floated in post-coital bliss, you fell back to your harsh reality.

You let this monster have sex with you and even worse, you enjoyed it.

You felt dirty, cheap, a literal failure. You allowed The Joker to touch you, to make you feel good. You came from his ministrations. God, you could feel him softening inside your used pussy. Your inner thighs felt sticky, and you shuddered realizing that The Joker came inside you. The room began to spin as you spiraled into a panic attack.

What would dad think when he found out? What if you became pregnant with this monster’s child. You felt sick to your stomach and feeling Joker playing with your hair, as if nothing was wrong, tipped you over the edge.

“Don’t touch me!” You wailed. Your shout made Joker come to and instinctively hold you closer to his chest. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on inside your head, but you didn’t have to be so loud.

“Doll... I ahh uh, already touched ya.” He rubbed up and down your back despite you flinching from his touch.

You made eye contact with the video recorder in the corner and Joker curiously followed your gaze. Oh. That would explain your sour mood. You were smart and deduced what he would do with the footage. “Listen Y/n..”

A knock at the door interrupted Joker’s sentence. He didn’t move an inch as he granted whomever on the other side entry.

You tried maintaining your modesty but it was a useless effort. You were bare as the day you were born in Joker’s arms and he wasn’t letting you go.

Joker’s henchman walked in and struck a conversation with the clown, pretended as if you didn’t exist. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die you were so embarrassed.

You didn’t notice what was going on until Joker snapped his fingers in your face. “Huh?”

Joker rolled his eyes at your lack of awareness. He sat up straight and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I said..... take a bath while I’m gone. I uh.. took your chain off for ya.”

He pointed at your bare ankle that was in fact free of the heavy metal. You twisted your leg, feeling the freedom granted to you.

You wanted to thank Joker but he was already walking out the door with his henchman. And just like that, you were alone. The silence was unbearable as the full reality hit you full force.

You didn’t fight back. Why did you give in so easily? Why did you miss the warmth of Joker body against yours? Just what was wrong with you for craving his touch?

Screw taking a bath, you ran straight towards the toilet to empty your stomach.

Sleep did not come to you when your mind was abuzz with doubt.

You paced the room while biting your nails and reliving your time spent with Joker over and over. You were beyond restless thinking about your uncertain future. What would Joker do now that he got what he wanted?

Would you be killed off and discarded like trash? Would your family be given the chance to mourn your passing? Would they even know what became of you? There were too many questions and not enough answers. One thing was for certain, you refused to sit around and wait for your fate.

For some unknown reason Joker removed your chain. It was a sliver of hope that you planned on exploiting.

The heavy metal door loomed in the distance. Before it served as a reminder of how trapped you were; now it was a shining beacon of hope. Either coincidental or simply a miracle, Joker also took the elusive camera with him. Nothing was stopping you from running, and nothing was holding you back.

Joker had slashed your clothes to ribbons but the woolen blanket on the mattress was still intact for you to wrap around your body.

It left you feeling far too exposed, but you had no other option available. Once covered, you padded over to the door and turned the handle to freedom.

The hallway was dark and ominous before you.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to venture into the unknown. You looked at the barren cell you were forced to inhabit and back into the dark void, weighing the odds.

You took the first step, then another, and another until you were walking with haste—desperately searching for an exit.

Your heart was beating loudly in your ears as you stumbled across a door with light poking out underneath the frame. It was the only lead you had so far towards an exit. You slowly pushed it open and regretted it instantly.

The room full of men all stopped their various conversations to stare you caught like a deer in headlights in the doorway. You quite literally walked into a den of wolves.

“Well well. Look what we have here!” One guy catcalled.

They all leered at your body poorly wrapped up in a blanket. It was obvious your purpose here at their hideout. Free entertainment.

The door slammed shut behind you, trapping you again, only this time in far more hostile conditions. You berated yourself for leaving the safety of your cell if this was the cost. You could barely defend yourself against Joker. There were too many men here to even consider escaping.

You backtracked right into a broad chest and the male laughed at you already cowering in fear.

He roughly pulled your hair while another pair of hands ripped your blanket away to knead your breasts. Whistles and laughter broke out in the room at the sight. “The Boss been keepin’ this from us!? Look! She’s freshly used too!”

You screamed as fingers stabbed their way into your cunt and explored inside. Their hands weren't like Jokers. There was no pleasure to be gained here and unlike before, your body did not warm up to the stimuli.

You were in pain as they groped and fondled your body and despite Joker being the origin to all your problems, you cried out his name to save you.

Someone yanked your hair again before shattering all your hopes with a handful of words. “Ya think the boss is gonna help you? You are nuthin’ to him! Just a warm hole for him to use. And now it's our turn.”

You closed your eyes to block out the pain. The last of your fighting spirit faded away as a lone tear rolled down your cheek.

Frost and Joker were waking back towards your room when they heard the loud commotion coming from the common room.

It was well in the night and nothing of note should’ve excited the men to be so rowdy. Most of them should’ve been on patrols in the first place.

Frost merely shrugged his shoulders and followed his Boss.

Curiosity killed the cat, but Joker was not so simple minded. He knew something was wrong. He wasn't religious by any means, but he prayed that this didn’t involve you.

He barged into the common room ready to scold his men when his worst fears came to light.

Joker didn’t think, he simply acted until nothing else stood in his way to get to you. Frost could handle the aftermath of his rage—you were the only constant in Joker’s mind the second he opened the door and saw you in distress.

He left you just a few hours prior, safe and accounted for in your room. He left to prepare better accommodations to reflect your newfound status in his life. Joker took great care of his possessions, and you deserved better than being tucked away in some dingy shipping container. You didn’t belong on the floor like a cheap whore. No, you were worthy to be displayed, dressed up like the doll Joker wanted you to be.

Never did he imagine he would return to this.

He fought his way to your side and fell to his knees by your side. His green eyes were wide with an unknown emotion as they took in your battered form.

He didn’t want to touch and accidentally hurt you any further yet something about the thousand-yard stare in your eyes told him you were no longer here to feel anything at all. Joker knew how ruthless his men were, but this was barbaric.

He didn’t regret killing them after what they done. His only remorse was not making them suffer more before death.

Joker gathered you up in his arms and tried shaking you back into focus. “Y/n? Y/n, c'mon doll! Look at me.. s-say something!?” He pleaded.

You mumbled something inaudible and curled up into a ball.

Rage. Guilt and surprisingly shame. Joker’s mind was wild with this flood of new emotions.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have a single cell of compassion in his body, yet the sight of his newest toy utterly broken (and not of his own doing) had him feeling remorseful.

“I... I don’T.. I...” Joker gathered his thoughts with a deep inhale.

Frost watched the intimate scene while kicking over a body. It was a bloody mess in here; however, that had to wait.

Frost could tell his Boss needed some assistance. “I’ll run a bath.” Frost said offhandedly.

It would point Joker in the right direction at least rather than rocking you back and forth on the floor to no avail. The comment snapped Joker out of his musing.

Emerald eyes roamed over your sleeping form. “Bath. Y-Yeah uh she needs a uh.. bath.”

He nodded to himself and slowly rose to his feet to carry you out of the common room. He passed up your old room in favor of his own that had more privacy. Not like it would matter. You had yet to speak.

This was not the outcome Joker had planned. Even after he washed you clean and tucked you into bed— he sat by your side contemplating his next move.

You were no longer the shiny doll he wanted on his shelf. His own men had ruined you. They took away your feisty demeanor and all conscience thought from you that made this game fun.

Joker tried to get you to speak, to react to anything, but you remained stagnant, blinking owlishly at the wall until sleep finally took you. Nothing of the defiant Y/n that Joker had grown to like remained.

You left him with no other alternative. He got what he wanted, and it was time to move on.

In three more days, it would mark your two-month long disappearance. Bruce would be a liar if he said he didn’t count the days if not the minutes that you were gone.

He blamed himself for your capture and the boys tried their hardest to steer him in the right direction and not spiral into depression. Bruce loved all his children, but you were his by blood. You held a special place in Bruce’s heart and as such, he spent every waking second trying to find you.

No expenses were spared, and any lead (no matter how small) were investigated. Joker was smart, but Bruce was smarter. He would find you.

Dick and Tim investigated a possible lead and discovered where you were originally being held. You still had a sweet tooth and your favorite bakery recognized your custom order being placed and tipped off Wayne Enterprises about the person who picked it up.

Unfortunately, The Joker moved you before Batman could arrive at the location but now they knew you were still alive. It strengthened their hopes in finding you safe and sound.

Numerous rescue attempts were thwarted in the following weeks, but they never gave up. There would be another lead, they would have another chance to save you.

All hope was not lost.

Their patience was rewarded the day the Batcomputer picked up a signal on your tracker. It was finally online for the first time in months. Everyone scrambled to assemble at the pinned location. Bruce was ready for a fight and mentally prepared himself to do anything necessary to get you back.

None of the boys were prepared to arrive at the back of your office building. It seemed to be a mistake, it had to be. Was Joker sending them on a wild goose chase? Bruce scanned the area but there was only one faint heat signature detected. His nerves were on edge, already assuming the worst.

Bruce’s heart stopped beating when he saw a body lying in the delivery drop-off/ loading area. He didn’t wait for the others to secure the area. His father instincts were in overdrive as he rushed to your side, calling out your name.

You were unresponsive with only a tattered blanket covering your shivering form. That’s when Bruce saw the bruises painting your body and the cast still present on your wrist. He didn’t want to believe that this battered woman was his spit-fire daughter.

You were a shell of your former self when Bruce finally roused you awake. The fire that once blazed intently within your e/c eyes was gone and it was evident what The Joker did to you.

“Bruce, look.” Dick said as he picked up something near your feet.

Scattered around your body was a deck of playing cards. On the joker card a note was written in red.

You can have her back Bats; I don’t like broken dolls.

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ro-is-struggling · 3 months ago

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Fireproof Series Masterlist || Johnny Storm x Reader

disclaimer: the pictures above are purely for aesthetic purposes and do not represent the physical appearance of the reader

Series summary: you and Johnny weren't supposed to get along. You were the exact opposite of each other. While he was loud and outgoing, you were quiet and introverted. He loved to be the center of attention and you actively made efforts not to be. He had made a name for himself as one of the biggest players on campus while you stood out for your academic achievements. You hated guys like Johnny, and he had no reason to associate with people like you since you rarely shared spaces. And yet, against all odds, you were able to forge a solid friendship. In fact it was the contrast that made the two of you work so well. You called out his bullshit and he pointed out yours. You were a good influence on each other, no one could deny that. It was a perfect relationship, you knew all the bad things about each other and still chose one another....

But what happens when romantic feelings start to flourish?

This series is a collection of one shots that will give you a glimpse inside Johnny and y/n's complicated relationship.

Warnings: slow burn, friends to lovers, mutual pining, a bit of angst, fluff, lots of cliches (like seriously, I was kinda playing the game of how many cliches can I put in the same story? lol) 2000s teen flick/ rom com coded (so I guess it’s a bit cheesy? read at your own risk!), FEMALE READER

This fic starts a bit before the events of the first Fantastic Four movie, when reader and Johnny are in college (but it gets to the movies don’t worry!)

English is not my first language

Author’s Note: I recently rewatched the old Fantastic Four movies and I had so much fun I just had to write something for Johnny. Yes it's terrible plot wise but I love the early 2000s vibes of it. So I tried to keep a bit if that vibe with very overused tropes/scenes and stereotypical characters (yk like the annoying popular girl, the playful fuck boy love interest with a heart of gold and the ‘I'm not like other girls’ main character). I have a soft spot for those kinds of stories and I thought Johnny was perfect for it! I tried to keep a balance as to not make it too over the top, I hope I did a good job

The idea for this fic is to make a sort of collection of separate one-shots that show different moments in Johnny and reader’s relationship, if that makes sense. I have most of the story planned and written, but it is not completely closed. What do I mean by that? That I have a beginning, conflict and ending thought out, but that doesn't mean that once I post those parts the story is over.

I'm structuring this fic more as plot points than anything else (i.e. how they meet, when they have their first kiss, what the big love confession is like, stuff like that). Beause of that, there are parts of the timeline of the relationship that aren't shown. And that leaves me time to imagine a lot of things, if that makes sense? So if I have a random idea about a silly thing that happens between them in the middle of "the plot" (or if you guys think of something!), I can add it and expand the context without changing the whole story.

ALL PUBLISHED PARTS:

Part 1: First Impressions

Part 2: {COMING SOON}

#johnny storm x reader #human torch x reader #johnny storm x fem reader #johnny storm fluff #johnny storm angst #human torch x fem reader #fantastic four #johnny storm #johnny storm fanfiction #fireproof series

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 7 months ago

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Closed Position: Week 2 (Foxtrot)

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on Dancing with the Stars to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

Chapter Word Count: 15.7k

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Week 2 Quote: “What’s wrong, do I have too many buttons open or something?”

Katarina’s POV Our first week of rehearsal had gone well after the initial awkwardness dissipated. I admit, I was extremely nervous about how our introduction was going to go and didn’t really know how to handle it. I had hoped Dieter and I would get a chance to talk before filming, but that didn’t happen. I was surprised by how effortlessly he pretended it was our first-time meeting, like we hadn’t had a somewhat confrontational interaction the day before. He had put on a good show, but I could still sense the tension rolling off him as we did our quick filming session.

I knew that we needed to discuss what happened, so as soon as we were alone, I bit the bullet and brought it up to get it out of the way. I apologized for my behavior. I had to because the things that I had said to him were eating away at my conscience. My reaction wasn’t fair to him. Was he part of the problem? Yes. However, he wasn’t the cause. He was dropped in the middle of the situation just as much as I had been. He wasn’t intentionally trying to cause trouble between me and Alec. It was Stacia and Joe who were hoping that something would develop from their plotting. Dieter was just doing as he was told.

I could tell by the look on Dieter’s face that what I said had hurt him. I had a feeling that he didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t mean it. I hadn’t intended to tell him about my father, but at that moment I felt like he needed to hear it. I wanted him to know that I was sorry and that I wasn’t like everyone else who had been doubting him. He was willing to be open with me about his sobriety, so I felt like I needed to share something personal with him as well. We were going to be partners after all. That meant we needed to learn to communicate effectively and trust each other. Starting out the way we had would’ve caused us to fall apart quickly if we didn’t right it as soon as possible.

Dieter seemed to accept my apology and appreciate what I shared about my father. He relaxed almost immediately, which led into a teasing banter between the two of us. He ended up being nothing like I expected. He was very respectful and put in a lot of effort to learn everything I was teaching him. I had a feeling he would be a decent dancer, but I was surprised at how quickly he was picking things up and how good he was in executing the moves. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I might actually have a shot to make it to finals. I just had to make sure I stayed on top of my game to help him get there. I also had to make sure I didn’t allow myself to be attracted to the man.

The thought of finding Dieter attractive never crossed my mind when I was told he would be my partner. I had seen pictures of him before rehab and he usually looked like a mess. However, I had to admit that the man did clean up nicely. His sweet temperament and eagerness to learn didn’t help the situation. His puppy dog eyes and golden-retriever energy made it hard to not like him. There were times when his large brown orbs would look up at me through his lashes because he was unsure about something, and it would literally take my breath away. After spending up to seven hours with him every day last week to go over the basics of ballroom dance, I couldn’t deny that I found him to be alluring.

I found myself brushing thoughts of Dieter aside often. I couldn’t allow myself to think about him like that because I had Alec. Though, Alec did have me in a constant state of frustration that left me questioning our relationship. He had been even more insufferable since I started working with Dieter, becoming more possessive than he normally was while also being less forthcoming than normal about how things were going with his own dance partner. I couldn’t help the distrust that I still felt toward him. I had a feeling this season of the show was going to be our final test. It was either going to strengthen our relationship or break it. The way it stood after the first week, the tighter he tried to hold on, the further away he was pushing me. It was adding a lot of stress to my personal life, which was quickly causing my time with Dieter to turn into an escape and that concerned me.

We were now into Monday of week two. The week that things really started kicking off for our grueling schedule. The agenda for this particular Monday was fairly light, physically, since Mondays would normally be a live show day. Instead of the show, we were shooting promo material, which meant all the dance couples had photoshoot sessions lined up. Dieter and I were scheduled for 11 AM, but we still had to go in early for hair and makeup. The entire cast is required to use the show’s hair and makeup team which is set up in a large room inside Television City Studios. There are stations lining the perimeter of the room, each having a large mirror surrounded by lights, a counter stocked with all the needed utensils and products, and a barber chair.

Dieter and I both arrived around the same time and grabbed some terrible coffee from Craft Services to get us through the morning, making small talk as we headed toward hair and makeup. As soon as we entered the room, we were whisked off to stations on opposite sides of the space. He was seated directly behind me, which meant we could see each other in the mirrors. It was hard not to stare, given he was right in my line of sight. I quickly noticed him doing the same thing. When our eyes would meet in the reflection, he would often give me an exasperated look as the hair stylist struggled with his tresses, then smile. I smiled back as I watched them tame his unruly curls into a more sophisticated style. They had gelled it back, but left a hint of curl to it. I couldn’t help thinking how handsome he looked as I watched him stand and head toward the wardrobe department.

Once my ridiculous amount of makeup was applied and my hair styled into an elegant low bun with sparkly diamond-like accessories, I made my way to the wardrobe department as well. They confirmed that Dieter was my partner before going to pull a couple of dress options that would coordinate with what they had put him in. I could hear Dieter laughing loudly in the back near the fitting area as one of the tailors, who I didn’t know, came to the front and told the costume coordinator behind the desk to update Dieter’s measurements because his shoulders were too broad for what they had put him in, causing him to pop a button off the shirt already. A look passed between the two women that said they were clearly smitten with the actor. I figured he probably charmed them as soon as he walked into the room. I had already noticed that he had a way of doing that.

As one of the costumers led me back to the changing rooms, I passed by Dieter standing in front of a mirror, bare chested as the tailor from earlier handed him another black button up shirt to try. He gave me a cheesy smile, “I’m already causing trouble. I’ve busted out of my shirt.” Fucking hell, he looks good. I was taken off guard by the sight of him, and his comment. The best I could manage was a quiet chuckle as I continued toward my destination. His broad shoulders, toned chest, and sculpted arms were now seared into my brain. He had a slim waist but was a little soft around the middle. I found it to be more attractive than Alec’s overly chiseled abs. Yeah, I’m definitely going to hell. I felt hot and flustered suddenly as I took the black and silver Latin style dress from the costumer to try on and made my way into a changing room.

After I was dressed, I walked out to the fitting area so the tailor could look over my attire. Dieter was now fully dressed but had left several of the top buttons on his shirt open and rolled the sleeves up - which wasn’t unusual for the guys on the show. However, I was finding those small areas of exposed flesh to be incredibly distracting. It was ridiculous because it wasn’t like I hadn’t seen his forearms during rehearsals when he wore t-shirts. I had to force myself to look away from his reflection as he stood nearby chatting with the tailor about the fit of the shirt in the shoulders. I almost snorted as she recommended he continue to leave several buttons open to give him room to move freely. He didn’t say anything in response, but I did notice a slight upward twitch of his left eyebrow. A small smirk formed on his lips as the tailor smiled up at him. Smooth. I can respect her game. I looked away quickly as his eyes briefly wandered over toward me.

Once the tailor stopped fawning over Dieter, she moved to stand in front of me, eyes roaming over me to check the fit of the dress. She reached to tug at the fabric around my breast, pulling it tighter and adjusting the straps. I rolled my head back and chanced a glance in Dieter’s direction to find him watching with a furrowed brow. The tailor backed away, “Do you want sticky inserts or do you want me to pin it back?”

I sighed, “Inserts are fine if that’ll work.” She nodded before disappearing to the back. Dieter cleared his throat, his face now looking slightly flushed, “I’ll uhhh, wait for you up front.” I gave him a tight smile as I tried not to laugh at his embarrassment over watching the tailor grope at me. After doing this for 13 years, I was used to it. A few minutes later, the tailor, who I later learned was named Amy, returned with a new set of stick-on bra cups. Luckily that helped solve my issue and she sent me on my way so that we could get to the photographer on time.

As I emerged into the front waiting area, Dieter gave me a mischievous smirk, “Did you get everything sorted out.”

I looked down at my chest, cupped both breasts in my hands briefly before looking back up at him with a blank expression, “Yeah, I think so. They aren’t popping out now.” His eyes widened before he burst out laughing. That hadn’t been the response he was expecting. I chuckled as I turned him to face the exit and pushed him toward it.

When we walked into the room where the photographer was set up, my eyes were drawn to Alec and Lana being photographed. They were full of giggles and smiles as they posed for their promo shots. They weren’t doing anything inappropriate, but there was something about the way they kept glancing at each other that made my stomach churn. I’m being such a fucking hypocrite right now. I had literally been devouring Dieter with my eyes a few minutes prior, so it wasn’t like I had room to speak. Then again, I wasn’t the one who had a history of cheating either. I felt Dieter lean in next to me, “Hey, you ok?”

Snapping out of the glare I was surely throwing their way, I glanced up at Dieter, “Yeah, I’m good.” I gave him a tight smile which didn’t seem too convincing. He looked back toward Alec and Lana, his face shifting as he studied them. I wondered if he could see what I saw between them. There was definitely chemistry there. A moment later, I felt his hand on my shoulder as he gave it a small reassuring squeeze. It seemed like he was trying to communicate something without words, but I didn’t know what to make of it.

Alec and Lana were finished soon after our arrival. Alec seemed surprised to see us once he finally looked in my direction. He made a beeline toward Dieter and I, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing me on the cheek, “Hey baby, you look good.”

I gave him a confused smile. He wasn’t usually this touchy while we were in work mode. He glanced over at Dieter and reached his hand out to introduce himself as my “soon to be husband”. Oh…it’s because of Dieter. He’s getting territorial. For fucks sake. Dieter didn’t skip a beat, immediately turning on that Bravo charm. Alec didn’t seem to buy it, but that didn’t stop him from making small talk as he sized Dieter up. The two men were of similar height, but Dieter was much broader and thick, while Alec was leaner and more sculpted. There was no contest there.

In my periphery, I noticed Lana giving me the stink eye from the other side of the room. Well, that tells me all I need to know about her. I awkwardly moved to extract myself from Alec’s hold, noting that the photographer was ready for us. As we listened to the photographer’s instructions, I could tell Dieter’s energy was off. I glanced back in the direction we had come from, realizing Alec was still standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. His intimidating gaze now focused on us. The photographer politely suggested a few poses for us, we complied but I could tell Dieter was hesitating when it came to touching me.

After Alec left the room, the energy shifted. Both of us eventually relaxing enough to have fun with it as I instructed him into several less intimate dance poses. We spent a lot of time laughing over his failed attempts. Once our hour was up, the photographer seemed happy with the shots he had taken. Even commenting that we had been one of the more fun couples that he had worked with so far. Dieter took the credit for that, citing that he was just a fun guy to be around. I couldn’t help but to roll my eyes at him. At that point, we were finished for the day. We quickly got changed and said our goodbyes so we could go home to rest and prepare for what was to come.

Tuesdays started with production meetings. Today we would be having our first one to go over the details of our routine - the dance, costumes, and music. I always hated these meetings and felt like it was something that could have been given to us in writing. However, I suspected these meetings served another purpose. It was an opportunity for Stacia and Joe to see how the dancers and celebrities were getting along. A chance for them to learn about our relationships and see where they could throw the gasoline next. Knowing that was most likely the real reasoning caused my frustrations to grow. It made me feel anxious in a way that had never been an issue in the past because I knew they were looking to manipulate us in any way they could. I knew I would need to be vigilant and make sure we were not playing into their games.

I had debated warning Dieter about Stacia and Joe and was still considering it while I ate my breakfast. As I was finishing up, my phone pinged with multiple texts from Alec with an absurd number of questions about my schedule for the week. I let out a controlled breath as I read through them - rolling my eyes before throwing my phone down on the counter without responding. I didn’t have time for that, nor did I want to deal with it. Instead, I moved toward the bathroom to shower and get ready for my day.

Dieter’s POV My Tuesday had a ridiculously early start. My upcoming schedule was so packed my assistant had to work hard to squeeze in appointments with my therapist wherever he could. So that’s how I ended up in Dr. Smith’s office at 7 AM. Of course, the topic of the day was how things were going with my dance partner and rehearsals. Dr. Smith seemed to zero in on the topic of feelings when I made a comment about how weird it was being so physically close to someone for so long - that it almost felt inappropriate and uncomfortable at times. She immediately asked me to expand on that. After a few minutes of struggling to put it into words, she finally spoke up to share her thoughts.

“Dieter, we’ve talked about your aversion to intimacy before. I think that’s where this is coming from. I don’t know much about ballroom dancing, but I do know it involves a lot of intimacy and you are not used to that.”

I shook my head, “But it’s not like that…it’s not sexual.” Not physically anyway…my thoughts are another story.

She chuckled, “Intimacy isn’t just sexual. You can have intimacy with friends and family too. It can be emotional, intellectual, creative…there are so many ways to connect with someone that doesn’t involve sex. It’s something that quite frankly, you’ve been starved of and avoided most of your life. So, I can see why it would make you uncomfortable and why you would have the urge to shy away from it.”

I snorted and spoke before I realized what I was doing, “But I don’t wanna…” Fuck. I caught myself too late.

Her brow furrowed, “You don’t want to what?”

I sighed, “I don’t wanna shy away from it. I actually enjoy being around Kat. It’s just a little…intense, I guess. It makes me feel anxious and something else…that I don’t really know how to explain.”

Dr. Smith tilted her head slightly as she took in my words, “Dieter, are you attracted to her?”

Yes. “No…I mean she’s nice looking. I can’t deny that, but she has a fiancée. It’s just…s-she treats me…like a person. She doesn’t look at me and see a fuck up. She’s giving me a chance and not just automatically assuming that I’m gonna fall back into old habits. You know what I mean?”

Dr. Smith nodded, “So, you’re developing a relationship with her that isn’t based on sex or favors.”

I rubbed at the deep crease between my brows, “Yeah, I guess so. I suppose it’s probably the closest thing that I’ve had to an actual friendship in a long time…but I mean, it’s only been a week. So, I’m not even sure if I can call it that…but it does feel like more than just working together if that makes sense? We laugh, we joke, we vibe. I guess it does feel like we have some type of connection….and…I find myself wanting to…please her?” I cringed as soon as the words left my mouth, “NO! Not that. Umm, I guess…do a good job is what I mean. I don’t wanna let her down.”

We stared at each other for a beat, Dr. Smith had a thoughtful look on face as she digested my words. “Dieter…this might be a good thing for you. I want you to work on being open with her. Develop the friendship between the two of you. I think it would be good practice for you, emotionally, to connect with someone in that way. It sounds like she’s willing to build a friendship with you and give you the benefit of the doubt. I know you’ve been seeking that…and it would be good for you to have a friend that’s supportive of your recovery. You don’t have a lot of that right now…and it’s important.”

This is a bad fucking idea. “Ok…yeah. I’ll try.”

I left that therapy session feeling more on edge than I did before I had gone in. I was feeling a lot of conflict and confusion about my feelings toward Kat, which was ridiculous because I hadn’t known her for that long. Sure, I thought she was physically attractive and normally that alone would’ve been enough for me to pursue her for sex. Aside from the fact that she was taken, I actually didn’t want to ruin what we were potentially building for a quick roll in the sack. I wanted more. I enjoyed spending time with her, and she made me want to be better. I found myself wondering what it would be like to spend time with her outside of the dance studio - doing something as simple as getting lunch or stopping into a bookstore to find a book together that we could discuss after reading. I had never wanted something like that with someone. It was both scary and exciting.

I soon found myself parking outside Television City Studios for our first production meeting. I now had a fluttering in my stomach that was almost foreign. As I sat rolling up the sleeves of my dress shirt, I decided it was nerves related to the impending live show in less than a week's time. The production meeting made it feel more real and imminent.

Walking into the main entrance, I spotted Kat waiting in the lobby. Her eyes locked on me as I approached. She had an odd expression, her eyes seeming to roam over me before she met my gaze with a smirk on her face.

“What’s wrong, do I have too many buttons open or something?” I asked, jokingly.

She laughed nervously as she shook her head, “No. Your buttons are open just the right amount…That shade of blue looks really good on you.”

I smiled as my face heated from the compliment. I leaned my head downward and swiped my thumb across my bottom lip before glancing back up at her. Is she blushing? She looks flushed.

She cleared her throat, “Umm…before we get called in there, I wanted to warn you about Stacia and Joe. They like to…try and…”

I smirked, thinking back to my first interaction with them, “Create drama?”

Kat huffed out a laugh, “Yeah…that. I have a feeling they’re gonna try and manipulate things with us and with Alec and Lana. It’s all about ratings with them.”

I nodded, “I picked up on that during our first meeting. I figured. Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna play into whatever it is they’re trying to do.”

She had a sad smile on her face now, “Thank you. I appreciate that. At least two of us are on the same page.”

Two? What does that mean? I opened my mouth to ask but was interrupted by a production assistant who was sent to lead us to the meeting space.

Once we entered the conference room, we were greeted with a smiling Stacia and Joe. Kat and I took our seats on the opposite side of the table from them, careful not to sit too closely together. I could tell they were studying us as soon as we walked through the door, looking for their angle. Stacia spoke first, “So, how is everything going with you two? Did you have a good first week of rehearsals?”

Kat and I gave each other a knowing look before I responded. “It’s been going good. Kat is a great teacher…I seem to be picking things up quickly.”

Stacia and Joe stared at me for a moment. Stacia’s brow arched slightly, like she was waiting for me to say more. When I didn’t, she finally smiled, “Well…that’s good to hear. We want to make sure you two are getting along ok.”

Kat leaned forward and tilted her head slightly, “Is there a reason that we wouldn’t?”

Stacia laughed and shifted nervously in her seat, “Of course not…just making conversation.”

Well, that’s interesting. I had a feeling that Kat made Stacia uncomfortable, maybe even intimidated her some. Kat did seem to be giving off dominating vibes, which was fucking hot. Stacia cleared her throat as she pulled a couple sheets of paper out of a folder and slid them toward us. It appeared to be sketches for our costumes. They were both completely black. Kat’s gown was long and flowy with a very low back and front.

“Your first performance will be the Foxtrot to the song Fever. You’ll be doing the behind the scenes filming on Friday this week. Do you have any objections to the costume sketches?”

I glanced over at Kat, ready to agree with whatever she said since I wasn’t sure what she was comfortable with.

Kat glanced down one last time, “I’m fine with them, Dieter?”

I shrugged, “I’m good if she is.”

We sat in an awkward silence for a beat, staring at each other. What the hell is this?

“Is there anything else?” Kat finally asked.

Stacia nodded, “No. I guess not…unless you guys have anything to discuss?”

Kat and I both shook our heads with confused expressions.

Stacia eyed Kat, “Have you met Lana yet? I know she was excited to meet you.”

The energy around Kat shifted, her eyes darkened, and her jaw clenched at the question. Fuck. Please don’t react to that. “We did yesterday.” I said, speaking before I had time to think through my response. “She seemed very nice…Alec too. We had a lovely chat during the photoshoot.” I forced a smile and hoped it didn’t look fake. We need to get out of here. “Well, it was nice seeing you two again. We need to get to the dance studio to start working on our routine. I need all the practice I can get.”

I looked over at Kat, who was giving me a grateful smile as she moved toward the door. We said our goodbyes as we exited the room, walking in silence until we reached the lobby. Kat turned to look at me, her brows furrowed as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“What the fuck was that?” I asked, completely confused by the interaction.

“I dunno, it was bizarre. I guess they’re trying to figure out how to stir up drama between the four of us. I can guarantee it won’t be coming from either of us.”

I arched my brows, “What do you mean?”

She shook her head, not saying anything as she reached for her phone to check the time. “Our rehearsal space should be open soon. I’m gonna run home and grab my bag. I forgot it.”

I nodded, “Yeah…I’ll meet you there.”

That was an odd response from her. It made me wonder if something was going on with her and Alec. I could sense tension between them during the photoshoot but couldn’t exactly work out the cause of it. Whatever the reasoning, I felt like Stacia was aware of it and was actively trying to work it in her favor for ratings. That did make me sad for Kat because she didn’t deserve it.

Kat moved to leave, but stopped, waving her phone as she turned to face me, “I guess we should probably exchange numbers…”

“Oh, right. Of course.” I quickly typed my number into her phone. She followed up by shooting me a quick text with a waving emoji so I would have hers, then we said our goodbyes for now.

I decided to grab an early lunch before heading to the dance studio. I briefly wondered if I should have asked Kat if she wanted anything. I was tempted to text her but didn’t want to start abusing my texting privileges already. She probably only wanted me to text if I was running late or something anyway.

As I sat in the parking lot of the dance studio, eating my burrito, a hand smacked against the driver side window. It startled me, nearly causing me to drop my food. I hit the button to lower the glass and was met with Kat’s laughter as she moved to lean against my car.

I sat smiling at her until her giggles finally subsided.

“Thanks for that. You were very close to cleaning the inside of my car.”

She smiled, “I would have too, because it would’ve been my fault. I’m sorry. Totally worth it though.”

I rolled my eyes at her, taking another bite.

She leaned down, nearly sticking her head inside the car, “That looks good, where’s that from?”

“That Mexican place on Spring Street. I’ve got another, you want it? They’re fucking huge. No way I can eat it.” Which was the truth. I wasn’t expecting them to be so big. She scrunched her nose, “What kind is it?” She’s too fucking adorable when she does that.

I reached to pull the foil wrapped burrito out of the bag and held it up to her, “Cheesy steak and rice.”

She snatched it out of my hand, “If you insist. I’m never gonna turn down food.”

I laughed at her, “Good to know. Next time I’ll get your order.”

She moved to lean against the hood of my car as I got out with what was left of my burrito in one hand and my soda in the other. I leaned against the hood beside her and set my drink down between us as she started eating. A quiet moan escaped her lips causing little Bravo to involuntarily twitch in my pants. Fuck. That was hot.

“Ugh, this is so good. I’ve never been to that place. Clearly, I need to go.”

All I could muster in response was a nod. We ate in silence for a few minutes before she reached for my drink, tilting it forward and raising a brow at me as if to ask if it was ok. I nodded again and she took a quick sip before setting it back down. Once I finally got my thoughts in check, I was surprised by how at ease she seemed around me today.

Kat licked at the juices running down the side of her hand. I laughed at her and reached into the car to grab some napkins, handing them to her as she spoke, “Maybe we can start grabbing lunch on Tuesdays after our production meetings. We could get a head start discussing our routine since we have this odd break before our scheduled studio time.”

“Yeah, I’m cool with that.” More than I should be. I was giddy at the thought of spending time with her outside of rehearsals.

Her eyes narrowed on me as I finished up the last of my food, “So what does Dieter Bravo do in his free time?”

I gave her a small smile as she stared at me with a soft gaze, “These days, not a whole lot. I moved into a beach house in Santa Monica about six months ago. I mostly just hole up there with my plants, music, and art supplies. I’ve pretty much had to change my whole life around since I got out of rehab.”

She had a sad smile on her lips now, nodding as she swallowed her latest bite. I had a feeling she knew what all that meant. “Plants and art supplies? So, you grow things and paint?”

I laughed, “Yes…and I do mean houseplants. Don’t get any ideas.”

She chuckled, “The thought didn’t even cross my mind.” She paused, rolling back the wrapping on her burrito, “It’s unexpected and cool, actually. I love art. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body, but I do love looking at other people’s work.”

I raised a questioning eyebrow at her, “Dance is an art form…”

She rolled her eyes, “You know what I mean…painting, drawing…those kinds of things.”

I nodded, “Well, anyone can paint. So, don’t sell yourself short on that. You should give it a try. It’s a good stress reliever.”

She shrugged, “What about the plants? Why plants?”

I chuckled, “I don’t fucking know. That’s a fairly new obsession. I guess…I like learning about them. They all have different needs. There’s something about watching them grow and thrive from the care I’m putting into them. They also add a little extra something…makes the house homier.” I shook my head and laughed. Geez, I sound ridiculous.

She smiled at me, “What’s wrong? Are you embarrassed by your love of plants?”

I could feel my face heating up, “No…I mean, maybe. It’s a little weird, don’t ya think?”

She shook her head, “It’s surprising, but not weird. I kind of love it. It’s sweet.”

Her eyes sparkled as she gave me an endearing smile, which caused knots to form in my stomach. She moved to take another drink from my soda, and I suddenly found her lips wrapping around the straw to be a little distracting. I had to force my line of sight elsewhere.

She groaned as she stuck the last bit of the burrito in her mouth, “Ugh, I’m probably gonna regret that. Good thing we have some time to digest while we talk about our routine.” I laughed as I reached into the car to grab my bag so I could change once we got inside.

After I got changed, Kat found our song and played it. We listened in silence while we did some basic stretches. After the song concluded, she sat quietly with her legs stretched out in front of her, thinking. She let out a controlled breath as she rubbed her hands down her face.

“Ok, so…the foxtrot is probably one of the more difficult standard dances to learn. We haven’t gone over it yet. It requires a heel lead and gliding steps that should appear effortless and elegant. It’s a box step similar to the waltz, but the timing is different…it’s a mixture of slow steps that take up two beats and quick steps that take up one beat. It’s a slow, slow, quick, quick movement while maintaining a closed position with your partner. Let’s start with the basic steps, then we’ll start adding the flare to it.”

I sat on the floor in front of her, listening intently, nodding along. She moved to stand, reaching out her hands to help pull me up to my feet. We spent a good amount of time working on the basic steps. She started with having me do the steps alone so she could watch my movements. It took a little longer than I would have liked to get the timing right, but I eventually caught on. Once I had it down, we assumed the closed position and began moving together. Initially her proximity was distracting, but I was able to move past it and focus on our movements. After we mastered the basics moving both forward and backwards, she added turning box steps to the mix.

Now that I had the footwork down for the foxtrot, Kat wasted no time jumping in to craft a routine for us. I mostly watched her as she talked through ideas, occasionally stopping to work out the steps and movements on her own. She asked for input, but I didn’t feel confident enough to really have an opinion on any of it at this point. Overall, it was a light day as we worked through our plans. The afternoon flew by, and our rehearsal time was up before we knew it.

As we were leaving, Kat warned me that we would be hitting things pretty hard for the rest of the week, so I needed to prepare myself. I laughed it off, but honestly, I was terrified. I was nervous about the increased physical contact with her. I had done well ignoring it so far, but I knew once we started getting into the routines, the contact was going to increase exponentially. It wasn’t just the fact that I found her to be incredibly attractive, but also because physical closeness was something that I never did with people that I didn’t have an active sexual relationship with. Even in those instances, it was about pleasure and nothing else. This was going to be weird for me and I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it.

When I got home that evening, I had a quick dinner then grabbed my tablet with the thought that I would look up some foxtrot videos on YouTube. I figured it might give me some ideas so I could have input on our routine since Kat insisted that she wanted me involved. I made my way out back to sit on a lounger next to the firepit - allowing the sounds of the ocean to lull me into relaxation before I went down my YouTube rabbit hole.

I was honestly shocked at the range of routines I watched. Some were very serious and professional while others favored the more sensual side of the dance. I could feel my stomach fluttering at the thought of dancing like that with Kat. Sure, the idea was slightly arousing, but also imagining her looking at me the way these dancers were looking at each other caused my heart to skip a beat. It was a new kind of feeling that I couldn’t really find the words for.

At some point, a video of Kat popped up from a previous season of the show. I watched it a couple of times, studying her face and the way she moved with her partner. It all felt very cold, like she was just going through the motions. She seemed focused on trying to get her partner through the routine rather than feeling the emotions of the dance. I eventually scrolled down to the ‘suggested videos’ section, finding a few of Kat and Alec from professional dance competitions that were several years old. In these, Kat was different. It was clear that she and Alec had chemistry on the dance floor. The way she moved her body was hypnotic and the way she looked at Alec was almost carnal. I couldn’t imagine her dancing like this with me. The thought of it made me dizzy and anxious. I wouldn’t be able to handle that level of emotion from her.

Sighing, I set the tablet down on the ground beside me. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the lounger, trying to get that visual out of my mind. After a few minutes of contemplative silence, I sensed movement near my feet. When I opened my eyes, I was greeted by the furry intruder that refused to leave my yard. He sat for a moment, staring at me as if to ask if he could approach me. When I didn’t react, he hopped up onto my lap and meowed loudly in my face. I sighed, finally giving in to his cuteness and scratched behind his ears. He wasted no time crawling up my chest to rub his head against my beard, “Alright little dude, don’t get too excited. This isn’t gonna be a thing.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that slipped between my lips as he started purring. This fucking cat. My arms slid around his small frame and cuddled him closer. I realized he felt a little boney under all that fur. I sighed louder this time, “I fucking knew this was gonna happen. You finally got me dude…come on.” I sat him down on the ground, grabbed my tablet, and got up to walk toward the house. He followed behind me, swishing his tail. I walked through the sliding door into the kitchen in search of something for him to eat. I found a few packets of tuna in the pantry and grabbed one. When I turned around, I was met with two green eyes staring at me from the floor. I chuckled, “Please, do come in.” I grabbed a bowl and emptied the pouch into it. He waited patiently for me to set it down in front of him - immediately digging in once I did, making little growling noises as he ate. I guess I have a fucking cat now.

Katarina’s POV As I drove home, I took the time to reflect on my day. Stacia almost got a rise out of me this morning. I couldn’t let her do that because it would only add fuel to the flames she was trying to create. It was clear to me now that she was hoping Lana would drive a wedge between Alec and me. My fear was that it was working. I could already tell he had been more distant since rehearsals started. It wasn’t unusual given our schedules, but he would usually send texts throughout the day. I hadn’t received one from him since yesterday. I could feel the hurt creeping in. However, there was also a part of me hoping he would fuck up again because it was all beginning to be too much. I wanted to give up and I wanted out.

Then there was Dieter. It was obvious that he sensed my unease at the mention of Lana, and he jumped in to cover for me without hesitation. He was damn near believable in his response. He and I hadn’t discussed anything related to Alec and Lana in detail, but I felt like he knew there was more to it than I had shared. I had to appreciate that he didn’t try to pry for information while also acting as the supportive dance partner.

I don’t know what it is about Dieter, but I feel comfortable with him. Even though most people would probably call me crazy for it, I actually trust him. The realization hit me this morning after the production meeting. As I drove toward the dance studio, I made a conscious decision to build a friendship with him because I felt like he really needed it. Maybe we both did.

When I finally got home, I quickly ate some leftovers while I waited for the bathtub to fill up. I knew I needed to start taking extra steps to keep my body happy if I was going to make it through this season. I was doing ok so far - seeming to have no pain or inflammation present in my joints. I knew that could change at any time. Especially once we really got going in rehearsals. I was already dreading the Latin dances. I knew that the knee and hip pain would start quickly with those. The foot pain would come soon enough. The dance shoes always got that going, which was why I hadn’t worn any during rehearsals yet. I had planned to limit those as much as possible. After I finished eating, I took all my daily supplements that I had forgotten that morning, then got into the tub to relax.

I found my thoughts drifting back to Dieter, remembering how the blue color of the dress shirt he had on this morning looked amazing against his skin. Then I remembered how my attention was drawn to his exposed forearms – to his tattoos peeking out and the way the muscles flexed as he moved his hands when he spoke. As the day went on, I began having a ridiculous urge to touch his hair. That started while we were outside the studio, leaning against his car. The soft waves were gently blowing in the breeze begging to have my fingers run through them. He was so effortlessly handsome and clearly lacked the confidence to go with it, which was surprising to me.

Then my thoughts jumped to a shirtless Dieter from the day before. I suddenly felt that familiar throb between my thighs. Fucking hell, don’t go there Kat. I was tempted to let my mind continue down that path, but I knew it would be wrong. I couldn’t entertain those thoughts, no matter how good I thought he looked. Especially if I wanted to establish a legitimate friendship with him. I sighed and dunked myself under the water for a moment, hoping that would clear my head. It didn’t. I got out of the tub and went to bed frustrated.

I awoke to the sound of pounding on the front door. Glancing at the clock, it was close to 1 AM. I sighed and got out of bed. As I got closer to the door, I could hear Alec drunkenly rambling to let him in. I was half tempted to leave his ass out there. When I opened the door, he stumbled inside, hugging me against him and almost pulling both of us to the floor.

I pushed him off me, “Alec…what the fuck?”

He blew his beer laden breath across my face as he spoke in a slur, “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t wanna drive home. I was at the bar up the street with the guys…I can’t find my phone.”

“You realize we have a group rehearsal in the morning, right?”

He waved his hand at me like it was no big deal and stumbled off toward the bedroom, collapsing on the bed, fully dressed. This was a good reminder as to why we hadn’t moved in together yet. I huffed, moving to take his shoes and clothes off while he mumbled something about wanting to fuck before fully passing out. Once I got him situated, I crawled into bed and settled in for a night of restless sleep.

Alec woke me before my alarm went off, kissing down my neck. I admittedly was still a little worked up from the night before, so I went with it. I briefly stopped him, reaching into the nightstand for a condom. He rolled his eyes in protest as I handed it to him, but I wasn’t taking any chances. He put the condom on before flipping me over, pulling my hips up to meet him, then pulling my shorts down so he could roughly take me from behind. He didn’t last long, and I got no satisfaction from it. When he was done, he got into the shower without a word. This dismissive behavior wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, but something felt different. I felt like he was staking his claim, reminding me that I belonged to him. I suddenly hated myself for allowing it to happen like that. It made me feel dirty somehow.

After he was showered and dressed, he gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and said he would see me at group rehearsals. I nodded, watching him as he walked out of the bedroom. He seemed off, but I couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was just a bad hangover and everything else was all in my head.

Wednesdays were always the worst. Every week, the professional dancers did a group performance at the start of the show. I really wished they wouldn’t do these because it just added more to our plate. Luckily the first few weeks were not as bad since we still had so many cast members to take up airtime. The burden of the extra performances would increase as more groups were voted off. Eventually, the celebrities would be added to the group performances. I wasn’t looking forward to that as we progressed through the competition. Since it was the first week, this rehearsal went fast, and it was fairly easy. Alec struggled through it, clearly hung over from the night before, but I didn’t feel bad for him.

After five hours of rehearsals with the professional cast, I had to rush to grab a late lunch. I didn’t have much time before meeting with Dieter for our late afternoon rehearsal. When I arrived at the dance studio, Dieter was there waiting. He was laying on the floor, his head propped on his bag with a tablet sitting on his chest. His eyes met mine as he smiled up at me.

“What are you doing?” I asked through a chuckle.

He grabbed the tablet and quickly sat up, “I hope you don’t mind…but I pulled up some videos last night to get some ideas.”

I don’t know why this surprised me. I figured he would leave most of the choreography to me. However, I loved that he was trying. He looked a little sheepish as he asked if he could show me a couple of things. I smiled and nodded as I sat on the floor beside him, mirroring the way he was sitting, with my legs stretched out in front of me. He gave me a shy smile as he turned on his tablet, “Don’t laugh, but I made a playlist and saved them.” I didn’t laugh, but I couldn’t help smiling at him. I watched as he opened the YouTube app to the ‘home’ tab. He quickly tapped on the ‘foxtrot’ playlist, but not before I saw my name in the title of a video under the ‘watch history’ section. I could feel my heart rate pickup as he glanced over at me, fighting a shy smile.

“Yeah, I saw that…you watching videos of me, Bravo?” I asked with a teasing tone.

He shrugged, still trying not to smile as his cheeks flushed, “I watched a lot of videos from previous seasons. You may have been in one or two of them.”

“Mmmhmm. Right.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Anyway…I was thinking what we have so far feels almost mechanical…if that makes sense?” He’s not wrong. Dieter glanced at me; his dark eyes rounded as he took in my expression. I think he was worried it would upset me.

I pursed my lips, “I don’t disagree with that. Thank you for pointing it out.”

His shoulders relaxed, “Ok, good. I was afraid that would piss you off.”

I rolled my eyes, “It takes a lot more than that to piss me off. I always want you to be open about what you’re feeling. Besides, I didn’t think it felt right either. So…what are you thinking?”

He inhaled deeply before launching into his thoughts, “Well, I think we need to add some emotion to it to start…nothing too crazy…I’ve saved a few videos. I think if we can find a good balance in the emotion and feel of all these dances it would be perfect. I don’t mind doing a little acting with it.”

He had picked some very good examples. The first few videos showed professional choreography infused with different dance styles. The last few included a lot of acting and storytelling with the dancers' movements and were more toward the sensual side of things. During the last few videos, I could see the tension in his face. He was worried it would bother me. It didn’t of course since this was what dancing was about. I, however, was concerned about what that meant for me emotionally. It was going to require a lot of trust and a deeper connection that I usually didn’t have with my dance partners on the show. There was also the tiny issue of me finding Dieter Bravo to be incredibly attractive.

Once the last video ended, I glanced up at him. “You're ok with doing that kind of stuff?”

His eyebrows shot up, “I mean, maybe not that intense. Those...are a lot… but I’m comfortable with whatever you're comfortable with.”

I nodded, surprised of his willingness to try something different. “You know…our song has sort of a jazzy sound. Maybe we can infuse some jazz elements into it?”

Dieter’s eyes lit up at that suggestion, “I’m actually digging that idea.”

“Ok…well, this dance isn’t gonna figure itself out. Let’s get going.” I stood, “We need to make sure we stretch more going forward because it’s about to get a lot harder on our bodies. You’re probably about to hate me.”

He looked worried as I told him to lay back flat on the floor and moved to help him with some leg stretches - leaning against him to push back on his leg first with it straight in the air then against his knee to push it into his chest. He whined and groaned through it the entire time. After completing the same steps with his other leg, I had him sit up and put his feet flat together in front of him in a butterfly pose. I took the same position in front of him, keeping his legs in place with my knees and pulled him forward by his hands. He again began whining through it. I had to appreciate that he didn’t make it awkward like most people did, but it was near impossible not to laugh at his dramatic behavior. We went through several more partner stretches, both of us trying to keep it together as his dramatics increased with each new stretch.

By the time we were done with the stretches, Dieter was already breaking out in a sweat. He gave me the stink eye and huffed as he got up off the floor, “I’m fairly certain that could be classified as some form of torture.”

I laughed, “Stop being a drama queen. We’ve gotta keep those hips loose or you won’t make it through the Latin dances.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, “I have loose hips?”

I chuckled, “Surprisingly, yes.”

He smirked, “I take it that’s a good thing?”

I nodded, smiling back at him, “It’s good for a lot of things.” I did not just say that.

“For dancing…it’s good for a lot of different dance moves. There’s umm…a lot of hip thrusting…in Latin dances, is what I mean.” Fucking hell, Kat. Shut up.

The longer I rambled, the bigger his smile got. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. “I’m just gonna stop there. That came out so wrong.”

Dieter laughed, “It’s kind of cute when you're flustered.”

I put my hands on my hips and blew a strand of hair out of my face, “Just…shut up.” He snorted, shaking his head at me as I moved to stand in the center of the room. “Alright, let’s focus and get this figured out.”

He made his way over to me, still trying to hold in his chuckles while I ignored him and moved to stand in position. I tilted my head and arched my brows. I now had my serious face on, needing to move past that minor embarrassment. “Let’s go through what we have so far. Ok?”

From that point on, the both of us were all business. Dieter was laser focused and I found that we collaborated well together. As the minutes ticked on, he seemed to be more comfortable expressing his thoughts about the routine, however, I could tell he was still holding back when it came to physical closeness. He would hesitate anytime he had to touch anywhere outside of my arms or waist.

“Dieter, I really need for you to get over this physical contact phobia, ok? I’m telling you now, it’s ok to touch me while we’re dancing.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a controlled breath, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I’m just trying to be respectful, and this kind of goes against all that.”

I placed both of my hands on his cheeks and squished them together causing his plump lips to pucker slightly. His eyes popped open and focused on me in shock, “I promise, I’ll give you a warning before I throat punch you if I feel like you're being inappropriate…k.”

I patted the side of his face with my right hand, then pulled away. His eyes rounded as he stared at me, unblinking, “Is that supposed to be comforting? Because it isn’t.”

A small chuckle bubbled out as I took in his expression. His puppy eyes were in full effect. I both hated and loved when he looked at me like that. It made me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling.

I smirked, “I’m joking, I won’t throat punch you, but I will smack you if I think it’s necessary.”

His brow furrowed as he shook his head, snorting out a small laugh, “Oh… okay. That’s sooo much better.”

Rolling my eyes at him, I moved to our starting position.

“Alright, stop your whining. Let’s take it from the top with what we have so far.”

Dieter nodded and stepped closer, setting his frame, and taking hold of me. He was still too far away. I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes on him, sighing as I stepped even closer to his front so that we were in a proper closed position. He gave me a tight smile before looking off to the left. I began counting our steps as we moved around the room in perfect synchronization until Dieter’s timing faltered. We kept going, but I could feel his posture changing. I glanced over at him and realized his jaw was tense.

“Is something wrong?” I asked without stopping.

He kept going, not looking in my direction as he said, “It appears we have an audience.”

During a reverse turn, I glanced toward the hallway windows - instantly finding the cause of his disturbance. Alec was watching us. His piercing gaze made me feel uneasy. What is his fucking problem?

“Just keep going and ignore him. You’re not doing anything wrong…box turn, then promenade.”

Dieter inhaled deeply following through on those instructions before moving to lead me into an inside turn. As we reached the end of the choreography that we had so far, I glanced toward the windows. Alec was gone.

My eyes met Dieter’s, “Let’s take a water break.”

He nodded before pulling the hem of his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. I couldn’t help the way my eyes raked over his exposed skin. I had to force myself to turn away from him as I drank from my water bottle.

“Alec doesn’t like me, does he?” Dieter asked from behind me before taking a drink of his own water.

I casually turned to him, “He’s concerned about your womanizing ways. I guess he’s worried you're gonna steal me away from him or something.”

Dieter smirked, “I mean, I would never do anything you didn’t want me to…”

My brows arched in surprise at his words. I absolutely can’t handle him saying shit like that to me. I could already feel the effects of his words and that devilish smirk pulsing between my thighs.

Dieter was quick to add, “That did not come out the way I meant it…” He shook his head and laughed nervously as he raked his hair back out of his face, “I just mean…I respect you too much to do anything like that. Your friendship is important to me. I don’t wanna ruin it by being a dick…and I’m not that guy anymore. Besides, he should trust you. You’ve been nothing but professional.”

Friendship...I actually kind of hate that word. A crease formed between my brows as I looked down at the floor, “Yeah, well…you can’t tell him that apparently. Just don’t pay any attention to him. He’s being ridiculous over nothing. I’ll tell him to knock it off.”

“Hey.” He was standing directly in front of me now as I looked up to meet his gaze. His obsidian eyes were burning into mine, nearly taking my breath away. “If I’m doing something to make things harder on you, please tell me. I can tell this is causing tension between you two.”

I gave him a weak smile, “The fact that you even exist is enough to bother him. You’re not doing anything, so don’t stress about it.”

His lips were set in a tight line as he studied my face, taking in my words. He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded and dropped the subject. We continued with building our routine for the next hour. Then our studio time was up for the day.

By the time Friday rolled around, we pretty much had our routine planned out. It was a ‘behind the scenes’ filming day, so we had to put up with the camera crew being in our space as we ran through the full routine to the music for the first time. We also had to periodically stop to film their interview questions. The questions were beyond frustrating - mostly focusing on our chemistry and how well we worked together. It was clear they were trying to drive a certain narrative and were not getting what they wanted from us. I could tell Dieter had picked up on it too based on the looks he was shooting my way. It felt like such a waste of our time. Once we got rid of the film crew, we managed to complete a few run-throughs with the music without error. We were both feeling pretty good about it. However, Dieter admitted that his nerves were starting to flare up as we got closer to show day. He looked vulnerable at that moment, and I just wanted to pull him into a hug. Instead, I settled for a quick squeeze of the hand and told him everything would be ok because we would get through it together. That seemed to calm him some.

Dieter’s POV This week had gone by in a blur. I attributed it to enjoying the time that I was spending with Kat. She and I were working so well together. I couldn’t recall ever having such a positive or productive experience with someone in a work setting. We were both clearly more comfortable around each other now. She was quick witted with her banter and often kept me on my toes with her jokes. I loved that we had a similar sense of humor. During the more serious moments, we worked together with such intense focus that it was almost like we shared a single brain - often on the same wavelength and anticipating what the other was saying before they said it. She was very receptive to any suggestions I had and often praised me for my involvement with crafting the routine, which only made me want to do more. There was nothing more satisfying than seeing her face light up when she liked one of my suggestions.

As the week progressed and the dancing got more intense, Kat was going heavy on stretches to start the day. While it was torture, the partner stretches were quickly becoming one of my favorite things to do. I made sure to bust out the dramatics just to make her laugh. God, I loved hearing her laugh. I also didn’t mind the close proximity that some of the stretches put us in. When she made the comment about me having “loose hips” being good for a lot of things I was a little stunned. Her descent into embarrassment afterward was so fucking adorable. It was hard not to wonder if she had thought about me like that. Was it a Freudian slip? This was a thought that kept creeping in when I would least expect it and caused me to think all sorts of inappropriate things. Especially when she would give me that look that was somewhere between teasing and flirting that made my dick twitch. The logical part of my brain kept reminding me of that big shiny rock on her finger. The wishful side hoped that she did indeed feel something for me.

The feelings that I was having were very complicated and I wasn’t sure how to navigate them. Alec was adding a whole other layer to things with his possessiveness over Kat. The guy honestly worried me a little bit, so I was determined to be on my best behavior when it came to her no matter what my emotions said. I didn’t want to give him any reason to do something stupid, because my gut told me he was that type that would.

Sunday was our last rehearsal for the week in the dance studio. We spent our hours fine tuning things with the music the best we could without hearing the live band’s version of the song. Kat warned me that we may have to make last minute adjustments during the dress rehearsal, which was stressing me out a little. It just gave more room for me to fuck something up once we got the live show. Kat seemed surprisingly calm about the whole thing. Then again, she had been doing this for years. Her confidence in me did help alleviate some of the anxiety I was starting to feel, but not all of it.

After rehearsals, we made our way to Television City Studios. It was spray tan day for the entire cast. This was one of the things that I was not looking forward to. Upon arrival, I made my way to my dressing room to get undressed down to my boxer briefs and threw on the robe that was provided. I followed the robe clad group toward a big open room where everyone waited their turn. I quickly found Kat scrolling through her phone in the far corner, away from the crowd. I went to wait with her since I hadn’t really met any of the other cast members yet. We stood chatting as Alec and Lana slowly walked down the hallway; eyes fixed on each other as they shared a smile. Lana reached out to hook her arm with his, but once he noticed Kat, he pulled away from her and walked toward us. Yeah asshole, I see you.

Alec was quick to wrap himself around Kat, putting his body between us as he did so. Alright man, I get it. You think you own her. He attempted to make small talk but was coming off as an arrogant asshole as he bragged about how great of a dance teacher he was. Kat honestly looked embarrassed by him. As I stood listening, a production assistant walked by. I took the opportunity to interrupt Alec to ask the PA what sort of spray tan they were using. The PA gave me a look of annoyance, “What does it matter?” she asked with a rude tone. Damn, who pissed in your cheerios this morning.

“It matters because I don’t want a bunch of chemicals sprayed on me. That shit can cause a disruption in cellular metabolic processes…it can be carcinogenic. Is it all natural?” I had a slight irritation to my tone.

Her brow furrowed, “You’re worried about a spray tan when you used to do coke, LSD, and who knows what else? Is this a joke?” My eyes widened at her response. Ok. That’s probably a fair question.

I sensed Kat was about to say something, but Alec stopped her. I gave the PA a sarcastic smile, “Well, I’ve gotta live a clean life now to make up for all that damage I did. Humor me, please.”

The PA rolled her eyes, “Yes, we use an all-natural certified organic spray tan solution. So, you're safe from the carcinogens.” She said that last bit with a snippy tone. I should be used to being talked to like this by now, but it still pissed me off.

“Thank you, that’s all you had to say.”

I heard Alec laugh as he turned his back toward me to talk to Kat, effectively dismissing me from the conversation. I could tell Kat wanted to say something to me, but he was blocking her from doing so as he asked her if she was free tonight.

Another PA with a clipboard approached me at that point to let me know it was my turn. I gave Kat a tight smile as I was led into the large room that was set up with individual pop-up privacy tents for cast members to step into to remove their robes and get sprayed.

Once I was finished, I went directly to my dressing room. My good mood had been soured by the PA’s comment and Alec being a jackass. I sat down in the chair in front of the vanity wondering what Alec and Kat’s relationship was actually like on a good day. I didn’t get good vibes from the guy. I really hoped that he treated her ok. She deserved that.

I was drawn from my thoughts by a knock on the door, “Come in.”

Kat came through the door, looking behind her as she entered. I assumed to check if anyone was around to see her enter my dressing room. When she finally turned to face me, she paused, taking in my state of undress with wide eyes. I was still wearing the robe and boxer briefs. I now realized the robe was no longer closed, “Oh shit…sorry,” I mumbled as I stood from the chair and tied it shut. I didn’t care if she saw me like this, I was used to it, but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

She let out a breathy laugh, “No, you're fine. I just wasn’t expecting…that.”

I chuckled, “Sorry, I’m used to being in various stages of undress on set…I don’t even think about it anymore. I’ll try to keep my clothes on around you.”

Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip to hold back a smile as she continued to stare at me for a beat, eventually clearing her throat to speak, “Umm…I-I just wanted to come check on you. That PA was kind of an asshole.”

I waved my hand, “Don’t even worry about it. I’m not.” I’m more bothered by Alec.

She nodded, “Ok, good…yeah, don’t let that get to you. It’s not worth it.” She shifted her weight and stuck her hands in her back pockets, “How are you feeling about tomorrow?”

Moving to lean against the vanity, I huffed out a small laugh and scratched at the back of my neck as I stared at the ugly gray stained carpet, “Honestly, I’m nervous as fuck…but…I know you won’t let me mess up too badly.” You make everything ok.

My eyes flicked up to meet hers. We stared at each other in silence for a moment. I felt like there was a weird electricity in the air between us. I really wanted to reach out and touch her, to hug her, but I knew that wasn’t a good idea.

Her lips finally broke into a small smile, “Don’t worry Bravo, I’ve got you. I think you’ll do just fine. You’re better than you think.”

She turned on her heel to move toward the door, “Well, I’m gonna head home…try and relax and get some rest. We have an early start and it’s gonna be a long day.”

“You mean you’re not going out with Alec?” I blurted out the question without thinking, like it was any of my damn business what they were doing.

Kat shook her head, “No, he wanted to go out with some other castmates. I’m not about that kind of lifestyle these days. I have to rest…and he knows that.”

It made me happier than it should have to know she wouldn’t be spending the evening with Alec. I knew that I shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts, they were engaged for fucks sake. They were going to spend time together whether I wanted them to or not. I really needed to get my thoughts under control before this became an issue.

I pursed my lips, nodding as I forced a smile, “I’ll see you in the morning then. Have a good evening.”

She seemed reluctant as she nodded and reached for the doorknob, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

A short time after I got home, I couldn’t stop thinking about how Kat had gone out of her way to come check on me. Most people wouldn’t bother to do that these days, not that I blamed them. I didn’t deserve anyone’s concern after the way I treated people when I was deep in my addiction. I had to make sure I didn’t fuck this up with her. I sank down into the sofa as I unlocked my phone and pulled up Kat’s number. I started typing a text message and hit send before I could second guess myself.

Dieter: Thank you for checking in with me. I should have said that earlier. I appreciate it more than you know. I don’t have a lot of people in my life that would do that right now.

I watched as the message status changed to ‘read’. The bubbles started bouncing, telling me that she was typing something, then stopped. That happened a few more times before her response came through.

Kat: You don’t have to thank me for that. I’ll always check in with you. That’s what friends are for.

Seeing the word “friend” was sort of a punch in the gut, but I needed that. It helped get my head back where it should be. However, that word also meant that she viewed me as more than just a castmate, which was somewhat comforting. At least I could have a friendship with her. It was more than I had with anyone else at the moment. I decided to push all those thoughts aside and head to bed early before I lost my focus.

My alarm went off at 6 AM the following morning. After a quick shower, I threw on some gym clothes and headed to the local coffee shop. I wasn’t about to try and sustain myself with whatever it was that Craft Services was handing out. I picked up a cup for Kat too, since I now knew how she liked it. I pulled into Television City Studios parking with minutes to spare before we had to be in the ballroom to meet with the band, lighting team, and the cinematographer. We had to make sure the music was right, discuss the lighting scheme, and determine camera blocking for our performance.

As I walked in, I spotted Kat already chatting with the music director and walked over to greet her, handing her coffee over as I stood at her side. They were discussing the tempo of our song to make sure the band hit the mark with it since it had so many variations. As Kat talked, she looped her hand through my arm and gave it a squeeze. I assumed she could sense my anxiety and it did help alleviate it some. As we went through the details, I noticed other cast members starting to file in and sit around the dance floor.

Once Kat was done going over everything with the band and lighting, Alec came over to offer her some coffee. She gave him a tight smile as she held up her cup, “I’m good, but thanks.”

His brow furrowed, “Alright, maybe Lana will want it then.” What a fucking dick.

I felt like he was purposely trying to throw her off her game with that comment. She watched him with narrowed eyes as he walked off toward a small crowd of cast members. I could see her jaw muscles flex before her eyes met mine, “Alright, we’re gonna do a quick run through with the band. There are 18 cameras, so they’ll work on adjusting those as we go through it. If we need to make changes, they’ll let us know. We’ll come back later for the dress rehearsal and run through it a few more times with everything in place.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. She leaned in to meet my gaze with a small smile, “Hey, we’ve got this. Don’t worry.”

She reached down and grabbed my hand, pulling me over to our starting mark. As the band began playing, I was already thrown off by how different the music sounded from the track that was provided to us. I think Kat could sense it as she quietly called out some verbal cues at the start. Once we got going, I was on track and made it through the routine with only a few small errors.

Luckily, there were no last-minute suggested changes to the routine. I’m not sure if I would have retained it if there had been. We had another quick discussion with the producers about the lighting before they cleared us for hair and makeup.

I suddenly felt like all eyes were on us as we exited the ballroom. It was a little unnerving. Kat leaned in, “Ignore them, they’re just sizing up their competition. There are pros and cons to going first.”

I chuckled nervously, “And what exactly is a pro for going first?”

“We don’t have to deal with a frustrated production team. Trust me, they turn into assholes real fast dealing with this bunch.”

I laughed, “Yeah, that makes sense. How do they decide the order?”

She smiled, “Well, I got here first this morning…”

I nodded, “So that should be our goal then? Get here first. Got it.”

The rest of the morning was a blur. Kat and I spent hours in hair and makeup getting poked and prodded at. Luckily this time, we were seated next to each other so we could at least chat through it - mostly focusing on our routine. Once that was finally finished, we headed back to our individual dressing rooms where our costumes were waiting for us. After getting changed, we met back up outside the ballroom to go in for dress rehearsals. Kat looked amazing of course, but I did prefer her more natural look. They had slathered so much makeup and hair gel on the both of us we looked like completely different people. She joked that it was going to take multiple washings to get all the gel out of our hair. I was already not looking forward to going through that process.

As we walked toward the dance floor for our first run through in costume, I couldn’t help but notice the amount of exposed skin Kat’s gown was showing. I realized for the first time that my hands would be on her bare skin while we were dancing. It was both thrilling and anxiety inducing. I had to quickly shove that thought aside because it threatened to completely derail my focus.

We went through our routine several more times. By the last run through with the music, cameras, and lighting in place, I was feeling more confident about everything. Kat took a minute to give me a small pep talk before she had to run off to change costumes for the group rehearsal. I had to give her credit; she had been very patient with me. She made sure to take time to explain each step of the process to help ease my anxiety. She had been very positive and encouraging as we worked through it all.

I sat and watched the group rehearsal while I waited for my final fitting time slot with the wardrobe department. The performance was some sort of Latin style dance. Kat did amazingly well. I couldn’t take my eyes off her rhythmic hip movements as she whirled around the floor in time to the beat. I had to chastise myself for looking at her in that way, but it was hard not to. She was electric and commanded the attention of the room above everyone else.

Stacia stood nearby, watching the performance, just as she had been for all of them so far. However, I was now noticing her occasional glances in my direction. As she was moving toward the other end of the dance floor, she stopped in front of me, “Kat is on fire today. I’m not sure I’ve seen her do this well in a while. I take it that things are going well with the two of you?”

I felt the crease form between my brows as confusion etched my face. What is she actually asking me? “Yeah, I mean…we work well together. She’s a good teacher.”

Stacia narrowed her eyes slightly at my response, then smirked, “Right, you’ve said that.” Fuck. Did I just tip her off on something? I felt like she could see through me as she turned and walked away. Surely, she didn’t think something was going on between Kat and me? I sighed and turned my attention back to the group performance, hoping I didn’t just have a serious fuck up.

As I watched the third run through for the group, I realized something. Kat had been partnered to dance with Alec, which wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was the vibe between the two of them. It seemed different from the videos that I had watched of their competitions. Her face was expressionless. There was no longer a fiery look behind her eyes as they moved together - almost like there was no connection between them. Maybe she was just focused on getting the choreography correct. They hadn’t practiced the group routine that much after all. That had to be it, right? I couldn’t allow myself to think that it was any other reason.

After their last run through, Kat walked off the dancefloor, directly over to me to get her water bottle. After taking a long drink, she turned to me, “We need to get to wardrobe for our final fittings. They’ll have our heads if we’re late.”

I followed behind Kat toward the wardrobe department. She had to pop into her dressing room to grab her other costume on the way. They took us to the back as soon as we walked in. The tailor that we had worked with before, Amy, gave Kat a once over. They both seemed satisfied with her first costume, so Kat went to the changing room to switch to the black gown she would be wearing for our performance. While Kat was changing, Amy turned her attention to me, “Well, your buttons don’t seem to be hanging on for dear life this time, so I think we should be good. Do the pants feel ok? Not too tight?”

I shook my head, “No everything feels like it fits perfectly. Thank you for making the size adjustments.” Amy seemed proud of herself as she gave me one last look over. Kat returned in her gown minutes later.

“Does everything feel ok on this one Kat?” Amy asked as she stood back to look over the fit of the gown.

“Yeah, it fits like a glove. Perfect as always. I do have a request though…would it be possible to get a lower heel for both costumes?”

Amy’s brow furrowed, “You know production won’t be happy if you have different shoes for the group performance. Do you not wanna wear regulation heel height?”

Kat sighed, “Fine, I’ll keep the ones for group, but I would like lower ones to go with the gown. If we can try to keep them lower for the rest of the season as much as possible that would be great.”

Amy gave her a sympathetic look, “Are you having foot pain already?”

Kat huffed out a laugh, “No... not yet, but I’m trying really hard to avoid it as much as I can.”

Amy nodded before disappearing to the back.

I knew Kat could see the confusion on my face when she glanced up at my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t understand what they were talking about. “Everything ok?”

She gave me a tight smile, “Did you know that for every inch added to heels, the weight on the pad of your foot increases by 25%. Regulation heel height for ballroom is two and a half inches…for Latin it's three. Heels change your gait and the way you move. I have arthritis in my feet, knees, and hips. The heels and Latin dances really do a number on me because I’m too fucking old to be doing this. So, I’m trying to be proactive before it gets too bad to dance.”

Suddenly everything made sense. My mouth fell open in shock. Fuck. I had no idea. “That’s why this is your last season?”

She nodded, “Yep. I’m retiring from competitive dancing.”

I could tell this wasn’t an easy decision. I could see how much she loved dancing. My heart was aching for her. That would be like me giving up acting. Just the thought of doing that freaked me the fuck out.

I gave her a devilish smile, “Well, that settles it then. We’re gonna win this fucking competition. You’re going out on top.”

She laughed, grabbing my hand to pull me in for a quick side hug, “Thank you…for trusting me to be your partner.”

I pulled her in closer for a tight hug, realizing she had multiple meanings behind her words. I could feel my chest tighten as I worked to steady my emotions. It seemed that both of us had demons to battle. As we pulled away, Amy appeared from the back with a different pair of shoes for Kat, “Best I can do is a one and a half inch. We don’t have a lot of lower heels on hand.”

Kat took the shoes from her, “That’s perfect, I’ll take them. Thank you.”

After we finished with Amy, we stopped in hair and makeup for quick touch ups. While we were getting touched up, I could tell Kat was starting to get nervous, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly as she looked up at the clock on the wall.

I glanced her way, “You good?”

She chuckled, “Yeah, I always get a little pre-show jitters. It’ll pass. It’s 3:40…They’ll be bringing the audience in now. It’s almost time.”

I pursed my lips then laughed, “You can’t be nervous. It’s gonna make me nervous.”

She reached her hand across the space between the chairs, I grabbed it in mine so she could give it a comforting squeeze as she looked at me intently, speaking in a low voice, “You have no reason to be nervous. You’ve got this. After seeing some of the rehearsals, I honestly think you're one of the best on the cast this season. At least in the top three.”

I rolled my eyes and chuckled, “Yeah, whatever. You’re just lubing me up.”

She gave me a toothy grin and laughed, “No, I’m serious.”

Alec and Lana’s reflection caught my attention in the mirror as they walked into the room. I dropped Kat’s hand and gave her a small smile. Alec approached us from behind, walking around Kat’s chair to lean down and give her a quick kiss, “You look beautiful, baby. Good luck out there. Your dress rehearsal looked great.”

Kat’s brows arched as she chewed on the inside of her cheek, “Thank you. You too.” She gave him a small smile, but it looked forced. Alec moved to sit at the empty station beside Lana, but I could tell he was watching us through the mirror. Kat didn’t say much after that, not until we were finished and walking toward the dressing rooms so she could change back into her group performance costume.

I waited for her in the hallway - going through the routine in my head as I stood there. It was only a few minutes before Kat joined me with her phone and wired earbuds in hand. As she walked over to me, I noticed she was looking down the hallway with an annoyed expression, I laughed quietly, “What’s wrong?”

“Anika is looking at you like you’re a fresh piece of meat.”

“Oh?” I turned in the direction Kat had been looking. Sure enough, there was a short blonde giving me a flirty smile. I gave her something between a grimace and smile back as I turned toward Kat, “Yeah, sorry about her luck. That’s not happening.”

Kat laughed, “Why? Not your type?”

I shook my head, “No, not anymore. I don’t date party girls. Actually, I’m taking a hiatus from dating at the moment. They recommended that in rehab. At least until I’m sure I have my shit together.”

Kat arched a brow in my direction, “So you haven’t…dated…anyone since you went to rehab…eight months ago?

I scratched at the back of my neck nervously, “Since before that. It’s been like eleven months since I hooked up with anyone.”

She was now raising both eyebrows at me, “Hooked up?”

I grimaced, “Yeah, I didn’t really do the whole relationship thing before. I was kind of a mess and an asshole.”

She chuckled, “I’m sure you broke a lot of hearts.”

I sucked air in through my teeth, “Ehhh…Doubtful. Most of them were just as fucked up as me. They were usually trying to get something outta me…money, fame…the list goes on. It’s part of the reason I have a hard time trusting people.”

Kat was giving me an intense look now. It was that look that made my stomach do flips and my heart race in my ears. I could feel the electricity crackling between us again.

“But you trust me?” More than anyone.

I waited a beat to answer as my eyes roamed over her face, “Yeah...I do.”

Joe and Stacia chose that moment to walk by, yelling out a 20-minute warning to start time. Stacia gave us a wide smile as they continued past us. I looked back at Kat, now realizing how closely we were standing. I backed away slightly as we gave each other an awkward smile.

“We should probably head to the staging area.” I nodded and followed closely behind her.

Before I knew it, the show was starting. I stood in the staging area, watching the group performance. Kat of course did the routine to perfection. Once they were finished, she had to run off to change. Luckily our performance was toward the end of the show, so she didn’t have to rush. I sat watching the show until she reappeared at my side, smiling and breathless. I gave her a lopsided grin, “You did amazing.” Her cheeks flushed at the compliment before she murmured a quiet “Thank you.”

She busied herself with untangling her corded earbuds. As I watched her, I had to appreciate that she didn’t use the wireless kind. Once she had them untangled, she handed one of them to me. I gave her a confused look, “I like to listen to music to get hyped up before performances. It helps with the nerves.” I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. This was something I often did while filming to get into character.

I stuck the bud in my ear just as the familiar opening beats of Lose Yourself started playing. I glanced up at her, “Eminem…really?”

She gave me a toothy grin, nodding before she started bobbing her head to the music. I laughed, following her lead. She grabbed my hands, shaking my arms and forcing me to move in time with her to the beat as she started quietly mouthing the words. If her goal was to distract me, it was working. By the time the song ended, it was nearly our turn. We stood bouncing on our feet to keep the energy going until it was time for us to walk out onto the dance floor and take our places.

I could hear the blood pulsing in my ears as we waited for the music to start - both of us breathing heavily in anticipation. The electricity between Kat and I only seemed amplified by the audience's excitement as we walked down the small set of steps to the opening notes, arm in arm. The moment I took her hand for the inside turn, something just clicked between us as we moved in perfect synchronization across the dance floor. Our connection felt differently than it had during rehearsals. The heat of her bare skin caused my fingertips to tingle as they slid down her back and sides. I could sense that Kat felt it too because her eyes were blazing from the energy passing between us. It was almost like we were moving as one. I found the intensity of the moment was strangely intoxicating.

I was in a daze as the performance came to an end. Kat quickly pulled me in for a hug as she jumped up and down while the crowd applauded loudly around us. The performance went by so quickly I didn’t even have time to think. It was more muscle memory than anything. All I could do was let out the breath I had been holding and smile down at her as we walked over to speak with the judges.

The judges mostly gave compliments, noting that we had pulled off the elegance of the dance, making it seem effortless and magnetizing. One of them even commented on the electricity and connection between us. I guess I wasn’t the only one that felt it. The feedback they gave was that I needed to make sure I was holding my frame all the way through the performance. That didn’t surprise me as Kat was constantly calling me out me on it. Holding the frame absolutely wore my back out, so it was a struggle.

After getting the judges feedback, we moved over to the interview area to answer a few questions about our performance while we waited for the scores to be chosen and verified. Kat grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly as I rambled on about the challenges I had during rehearsal. As I finished answering the question, the host went back to the judges for scoring. They gave us three 8’s and one 7. It was the highest anyone had scored so far. I was in shock as Kat pulled me in for another hug.

Once we were back in the staging area, I burst out laughing. I couldn’t believe it. Once I finally got it together, I glanced at Kat who was smiling at me. Her eyes were still bright with emotion as I grabbed her, pulling her in for another tight hug, “I cannot believe we just did that…you were so fucking amazing.”

She pulled away, still smiling, “You were too. I told you, you’re good at this. If we keep that up, I think we have a real chance of making it to finals.”

I nodded, suddenly feeling much more confident about this whole thing.

We stayed around to see how the last few performances went, letting the adrenaline burn off as we critiqued the competition. There were only two other couples who had scores near ours. Anika and her partner were a few points below us. Alec and Lana were tied with us. I could feel Kat tensing beside me as the judges read off Alec and Lana’s scores. I knew she had to be considering how those two being our biggest competition could affect things going forward. It would undoubtedly create even more tension between her and Alec. There was also the narrative of the show to consider. Kat and I both knew the executive producers would somehow use this to their advantage.

Next: Week 3 (Part 1)

A/N: Whew, we have soooooo much to unpack for this chapter. We had lots of bonding and some mild flirting with Dieter & Kat. You know I want to hear all your thoughts and thots about these two.

We had more shenanigans from Stacia and Joe. What do you think they are up to? Now we have Anika throwing some attention Dieter’s way. Then there is the Alec & Lana nonsense going on…and just Alec’s nonsense in general.

Also…Dieter is totally not being honest with his therapist AND he has a fucking cat now. 🤭

Of course they nailed their first performance. They are going to be a force to be reckoned with. Speaking of their performance, I’ve been watching A LOT of DWTS episodes and videos as I write this fic. So, for each week I’m going to share one or two videos that inspired Dieter & Kat’s performance for the chapter. This chapter’s inspiration is linked below. The first video is more of what I envisioned for their first dance. The second is a sexier foxtrot that would have had Dieter’s head spinning, but he’s totally down for it. Don’t worry, they will get there eventually.

✨More good stuff below the videos.✨

youtube

👉In case you missed it, head on over HERE to check out this amazing video that @survivingandenduring was kind enough to put together for Closed Position. It's hot and has all the Dieter & Kat ✨vibes✨. I’m still screaming over it!

👉I have started working on a playlist for Closed Position. I will be adding to it as inspiration strikes. I plan to add the songs used for Dieter & Kat's performances as we go along too.

Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @morallyinept @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75 @bunniboo0015 @quicax3 @jackie923 @sherala007 @pastelnap @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @jessthebaker @rebel-held @gwendibleywrites @pedrostories

*If your name is marked out, it wouldn’t let me tag you. ☹️

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments or shoot me a DM.

Credits: Support/MDNI Dividers: @cafekitsune Disco Divider: @deadbranch

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #dancing dieter #plant dad dieter #closed position series #Youtube #Spotify

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darkstarofchaos · 5 months ago

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Spoilers for EarthSpark S2 below the cut.

The problem with Starscream isn't that he was evil. I have to lead with that because apparently if you complain about how he was handled, people are just going to assume you wanted him to be redeemed. I am not a Starscream redemptionist, nor am I a fan of "redemptions" where an evil character becomes a Good Guy. One of the biggest issues I have with Megatron redemptions is that he never actually has to address what he did to his own side, he just fucks off to join the other side/goes his own way. Suffice to say, I was not hoping for EarthSpark to "redeem" Starscream (unless it was in the more personal sense of trying to do better by his own people).

The problem with Starscream is not that he was evil. The problem is that, to make him the specific brand of evil the Powers That Be wanted, they had to completely ignore his previous characterization.

I honestly did not have a problem with most of his (admittedly few) scenes. His motivation for being Evil was disappointingly shallow, but him being grumpy-but-accepting of the new Terrans fit with his S1 characterization. The bit where Skywarp complains when he doesn't do anything to punish "Spitfire's" disrespect could easily have been spun as him trying to be a better leader after his talk with Hashtag. I liked that he isn't stingy with praise when someone accomplishes something. Even the painfully underdeveloped motivation could have been expanded into him trying to do what he thought was best for his faction. All the building blocks for a villainous-but-sympathetic Starscream were right there.

Which is why watching everything fall apart in the last 20 minutes felt like character assassination.

You cannot convince me that the Starscream who knew Hashtag for an hour and was ready to risk his life for her is the same Starscream who murdered two children without blinking. You cannot convince me that the Starscream who criticized Megatron's violent leadership would consider it a compliment when he's called more cruel than Megatron. I don't care what previous Starscreams were like, this one had an established characterization that does not work with what we see later. Not unless working with the Autobots briefly completely disillusioned him to the possibility of a lasting peace.

Also, love how the time skip allows them to just avoid any sort of fallout from having the people you were working with go back to trying to kill you. Love how there was no deeper reason to the war restarting than "they're Decepticons". Heaven forbid we get any sort of conflict with the two sides trying and failing to work together, and the falling out being a shared responsibility and not just "the Cons were actually still evil, lol". Can't have anyone grappling with how things went wrong and wishing they'd done something differently to maintain the peace. Megatron yells at Starscream to end the war like the Autobots played no part in it continuing. Which is obviously the intent, but it just feels like such a lazy copout to keep the Good Guys morally pure.

The Decepticons were being hunted down and locked up. They had no reason to think well of the Autobots or the humans, which means that if the Autobots wanted peace, it was their responsibility to reach out and prove that things could be different. Yes, the Decepticons would need to put in effort too, but they were not the ones - at least not the only ones - who needed to prove that they meant well. If the two sides worked together for a while and the Decepticons still unanimously rejected the possibility of ending the war, the Autobots share the blame for that decision.

I have plenty of other issues with how S2 is going so far (why was Nightshade the only Terran who got completely relegated to side character?), but I'll save my rant about the Chaos Terrans for later. It'll be huge, trust me.

#transformers #Transformers EarthSpark #EarthSpark spoilers #Starscream

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azrielbrainrot · 7 months ago

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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 6

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Getting answers out of Norris has proven quite challenging. Your disagreement with Azriel is weighting on you more than you thought it would.

Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore

Word Count: 5550

Notes: This took me a bit longer to write than I anticipated but I wanted to make sure not to forget any details. Hope you enjoy!

Part 5 ○ Part 7

The sun was already shining high in the sky when you finally stepped out of the dungeon. Feyre had arrived with Cassian and Amren a few minutes earlier, ordering her mate, you and Azriel to go and get some rest while they took over for a few hours. Rhysand could only use his daemati powers for so long and the strain was starting to become visible on his face, so she likely could feel his fatigue through their mating bond. His efforts were starting to be in vain anyway, you needed to wear Norris down a lot more physically before his mental walls would start giving in.

You didn't want to leave at first, completely unwilling to take your eyes off Norris for even a second, but both you and Azriel had been forced to go take a bath and eat something, maybe even get some sleep and only come back later in the day. Logically this made perfect sense, but you'd rather stay with him until he told you everything you wanted to know. You believe them all to be more than capable of handling this but you also know Norris, if anyone could find a way to escape from the Night Court's dungeons it would be him.

Still, you knew it was going to take a lot longer than a few hours to crack Norris so you needed to keep your strength, you wouldn't be any help at all if you exhausted yourself. Apparently the same wards around your memories were also present in Norris' mind, meaning Rhysand was only able to knock him out in the forest but not read through his thoughts, the same way he wasn't able to reach your memories before. This meant he was the one in control of said wards, both his and yours. Amren was quick to explain that since they had been done with the help of a witch's tool, he had to have it with him to keep up his wards since it wasn't his own magic that was keeping them in place.

It also explains why he risked becoming your handler even though letting you know him could lead to this exact outcome. He needed to strengthen your wards every once in a while to make sure no memory slipped through them. Unfortunately, even without his checkups the wards were strong enough that simply time wouldn't give your memories back in full, at best only letting you see some fragments. There was also no way of knowing what they could do to your mind when left unattended so your only option was to keep pushing him until he told you everything you needed to know.

The tool he used couldn't be far, he either had it on his person or hid it somewhere close before meeting you in the forest. You've searched through his belongings more than once, as did everyone present in the cell, including Azriel's shadows, but came up empty. He likely had a powerful glamour cast on it, one you had to make him break. Getting your hands on that tool meant you could break both the wards around his mind, which would grant Rhysand access to any and every piece of information he wanted, and the wards keeping your memories hidden inside you. One simple object could set you free.

Azriel winnowed you to the middle of the mountains surrounding Velaris, right behind the House of Wind, making sure no one in the city could see your bodies drenched in blood but unable to winnow you straight home. Having a house protected by wards that didn't allow for any winnowing, even by its inhabitants, was really good in theory, you've never seen a safer place really, but in practice having to fly up every time was more than annoying, especially when you don't have wings of your own.

The air was strangely awkward around the two of you since you hadn't spoken a word to each other after the short argument in the forest. Most of your annoyance had worn off at this point, got redirected at your smug handler chained up in the dungeon, but you still wanted him to be the one to come to you and explain himself. His attitude earlier had seemed completely different from everything you'd experienced until then, you know there's a reason for it but you're too prideful to ask him about it.

The only plausible reason you could think of is that he's been using you to get to an assassin with a higher up position in the guild, but something told you immediately that wasn't the case, it seems like a part of you balked at the thought that he'd betray you like this. Even putting your annoying phantom feelings aside, it didn't make sense considering the High Lord has followed his word on letting you help in interrogating Norris. Your mind was fresh out of ideas, and much too tired to analyze that small argument. He'll tell you what happened eventually, and if he doesn't… Well, then it's a good thing you didn't get your hopes up even more.

“I'll fly you up to the House,” his voice was scratchy from not being used in so long, making it deeper as he almost whispered beside you, not wanting to disturb the quietness in the mountain. Azriel had done most of the cutting and breaking but he hadn't even asked Norris any questions, content in letting you and Rhysand take over the interrogation while he carved out Norris' skin. You can't be sure if it was because of your fight or just the grueling last few hours but he didn't seem to be in the best mood anyway.

You nod up at him, simply walking closer and letting him pick you up into his warm embrace, strong hands careful as they handle your body. You've only flown once - from what you can remember at least, you can't imagine a version of yourself who wouldn't ask her husband to take her flying regularly if he had wings - and, given the circumstances, you didn't really have the chance to stop and truly enjoy the moment. It would be the same now, even worse given the fact that you'd rather not deal with the shadowsinger, but the breeze hitting against your tired body sounded heavenly, and so did the big bathtub and soft mattress waiting for you up in your room. There was also no energy left in your body to even try to argue with him, if there was you would have been using it on your handler.

His body relaxes slightly when you simply slip your arms around his neck, his wings stretching and flapping a couple of times as he got ready to take flight. He looked like he was expecting you to refuse, as if there was any other way to the House besides flying and he wasn't the only Illyrian here.

The actual flight doesn't take long, within a few moments Azriel is gently setting you down back on your feet at the top of the stairs, hands lingering on your body as if moving on their own, a habit he can't quite break himself out of. You meet his eyes, briefly wondering if you should say something, debating if you have enough patience in yourself to extend a small olive branch to the male who is covered in the blood of your enemy.

He beats you to it, looking down before speaking as if he couldn't hold your gaze for top long - yet another way he's acting out of character. “You're free to do what you want. I'll meet you in your room and fly you back to the dungeon when it's time. I won't bother you before that.” The professional, detached tone in his voice makes your annoyance want to rise up but you swallow it down, realizing how tired you really were as soon as you had stepped foot inside the house.

“Alright,” you tell him before turning around and walking straight to your room, never looking back to see his reaction or the way regret flashes in his eyes as he watches your every step away from him.

Azriel stayed true to his word, only coming to check in on you right before it was time to return. You can't even be sure if he stayed in his room the whole time, if he truly spent these few hours resting as he was ordered since there was no sound coming from his room or around the house at all. Curiosity had gotten the best of you a couple of hours ago, when you woke up from your nap feeling strangely alone, like a piece of you was begging to go find him. This feeling was clutching at your heart for long enough that you actually considered going to find Azriel, but held on since you didn't fully know your way around the house and you had no idea where he could be. You didn't really know what to say either.

Luckily it wasn't long until you heard his footsteps getting closer to your room before a soft knock sounded at the door. He always does this, makes sure to let himself be heard before knocking. Sitting up at the edge of the mattress, you call out to him, wondering if he'll tell you anything now or simply fly you back to the cells.

As soon as his form comes into view you can tell he hasn't slept much if anything at all, dark circles prominent under his eyes. He's at least taken a bath, the sullied leathers were now replaced with new ones, the stench of blood not clinging to him anymore. You're wearing some yourself, your old ones as you've been told. Your clothes were ruined and putting them back on would defeat the purpose of the bath you took earlier, but it feels weird to wear a version of what you always see Azriel and his family in. He takes notice of this as well, hazel eyes raking over your form, lingering around your waist long enough for you to start feeling self conscious, standing up and taking a step closer to him almost involuntarily.

“Is anything wrong? I thought you left them for me to wear.” Since he had given you the leathers along with your old belongings you had assumed you were allowed to wear them, but, at this point, these clothes were more his than yours. Maybe he was scared you'd ruin them and he'd lose his memories of you.

“No, that's not it. They're yours,” he assures quickly, eyes widening slightly before a conflicted expression takes over his face. “The buckles are done wrong,” his observation makes you look down at yourself, there were more straps and buckles than necessary for any piece of garment and you'd taken a bit longer to figure it out than you cared to admit, apparently you should have taken even longer.

Your fingers reach for the straps around your waist, tugging at the leather before he continues, “I can help you with them. They can be hard to put on if you're not used to it.” When you look up from the confusing clothes and your eyes move to meet his, you find him watching your hands hesitantly, his own flexing at his sides. You end up agreeing without even thinking it through, something you almost regret when he walks closer to you and suddenly all you can see and smell is Azriel.

He looks into your eyes before reaching out to the buckles around your waist slowly, giving you a chance to push him away, almost expecting you to. You drop your hands at your sides awkwardly, not knowing what to do with them or yourself when he starts working on your leathers. Expert fingers undo the buckle before pulling on the straps, unexpectedly tightening your armor in the process which pulls a startled gasp out of you. His hands move to grab your waist, surprised by your reaction. Wide hazel eyes meet yours at the sound, a heat spreading within them the longer he holds your gaze, hands frozen around your waist.

All your senses are overwhelmed with him so close, staring down at you like that. The only thing you can think of is the kiss you shared a few nights ago, your entire body begging to repeat the action as he looks down at you with the same passionate look he had worn then. He seems to be reminded of the same, perhaps of similar moments from your previous life, even more scandalous ones surely.

Thankfully, some of your common sense finds you before you could do something stupid like pull him down to you and taste him again, the thought making you look away from him and clear your throat, hoping he breaks from the spell and lets you pretend it didn't happen. This prompts him to keep buckling the leathers, with an urgency he didn't have before, and you look down with him, following his movements even though your mind isn't actually registering any of them as you try to calm your breathing and not think of the way his hands feel around your waist. You'll likely need his help fastening everything tomorrow as well.

“These are meant to cross so the leathers are molded to your body and there are no openings,” he tries to explain as he finishes and moves back, but you can tell he's as affected by your little moment as you were.

You nod at him, “There were a lot of straps, I wasn't sure which ones belonged where. Some of them don't even look like they have a purpose,” you finish as you play with the straps around your wrists, the ones you really couldn't figure out.

“Those are for your gloves,” he explains, a somewhat endeared look crossing his face. “I didn't think you'd need them but you can put them on. Though I'm not sure how they will behave with your powers now.”

“Did I not have these powers before?” You hadn't thought of the possibility but if the spell could erase your memories maybe Norris could have found a way to give or take powers. Just the thought of it brings a chill down your spine.

“You did, but you've gotten a lot stronger,” there was a hint of pride in his words, though the somber meaning hung between you. No matter how hard you practiced and how well they could have trained you here, the results wouldn't be as fast or maybe as clean as the ones resulting from the guild's harsh training. The guild had no problem pushing you past your limits, you either adapted and got stronger or you'd die and be replaced. You suppose you never had to use your powers to torture people before either.

“When this all ends we could spar together,” you sound hesitant even to your own ears, “Maybe I'm even stronger than you by now.” You haven't talked about what will happen after all of this, you can't know for sure what you'll want to do when you recover your memories. You also keenly aware you had just been telling yourself you wouldn't make it easy on him, but ended up seconds away from kissing him and inviting him to spar with you as soon as you saw him.

“I'd like that,” he nods, a reddish tint rushing to his ears. He makes it unbearably hard to even remember why you were upset with him in the first place. It takes everything in you not to lean into his genuineness and forget it ever happened. You bite your lip and give him a small nod of your own, “Are you ready then? We should go.”

“I wanted to talk to you before we left,” his voice takes on a serious tone, regret peeking through every word.

“Maybe this is not the right time. They're probably waiting for us,” you offered, not really sure how to go about having this conversation after what had just happened, even if the curiosity was killing you. It was clear you couldn't keep a level head when it came to Azriel.

“No, I can't…” he cuts himself off, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest as if he’s been pushing it down for a long time. He looks scared somehow, his wings pulling in tighter to his body and his shadows crawling up his shoulders as if comforting, or even encouraging him. You let him find his composure, find the right words to explain the situation. This feels bigger than a silly argument when adrenaline was pumping through both your veins and that gnawing feeling in your chest comes back, getting stronger with every breath, making you think this might be something he's carried on from the time you were still married.

Azriel opens his eyes after a few moments, the emotions swirling in them enough to make you breathless, and reaches his hand out to yours, waiting for you to accept it and then squeezing it tight as if he needs the reminder that you're real.

“I need you to know I wasn't trying to keep any secrets from you or order you around as you said,” he starts lowly, shiny hazel eyes alternating between watching your hands clasped together and staring deep into your eyes, “We've had this conversation many times before. I know you don't remember but I need you to know I never meant to make you think I want to have any sort of power over you.” He brings your hand up to his chest then, spreading your palm right over his beating heart as he continues, eyes never straying from yours, “I know you can handle yourself, and I know you want to be there when Norris tells you everything. I wasn't trying to keep you away from the dungeon because I didn't think you could handle it.”

“Then why?” Your voice is but a whisper, not wanting to disturb the vulnerable moment.

“I never let you see me down there before, know the monster I have to become. You tried, many times, but I never allowed it. I've always been too afraid of what your reaction would be,” he presses his hand down on yours a little harder as his heart beat picks up, “It would kill me if you were ever scared of me, if you couldn't love me anymore after learning who I am. I was so scared of losing you. Scared that you would ever look at me with fear in your eyes instead of love.”

You let your gaze fall to the way he presses his and your hand to his chest, letting his heartbeat lead yours. It takes a moment for you to process his admission. From what he told you before you thought you had been open with each other throughout your marriage, but it seems there were parts of him he kept hidden even from you, especially from you.

Moments like these always leave you in a weird position. You can't speak for the old version of you, as much as you want to believe that you wouldn't leave him, would never feel scared of him, when your love for him transcended your memories as if it was written down into your bones, the truth is you don't remember her at all. Maybe she would have been scared, maybe his worries hadn't been completely unwarranted then. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

You turn your hand around, your palm no longer pressed against his chest in favor of holding onto his hand, your other hand joining in as you massage the rough skin and let them fall between you two, needing something familiar to ground yourself while you think of what to say. You twist his wedding ring around his finger once, closing your eyes at the tremble that runs through him at the motion, the way even his wings droop to the floor. The fact that he lets you touch him like this makes things so much harder sometimes.

“I've seen a lot of monsters. You're not one of them, Azriel. Far from it,” you start carefully, “and… I'm not sure how I was like before, if seeing you down there would have really been too much for me to handle but if I truly loved you like I think I did, then I know it wouldn't have mattered. There's nothing about you I see as unlovable.”

“Loved,” a broken mumble between you, not a question. This makes you look up at him. You want to deny it, tell him you still love him, but you can't make sense of the feelings inside you, can't say for sure what will happen to them when you regain your memories. Most of all, you don't want to hurt him, give him hope when he already lost so much, when you already hurt him so much.

You drop his hand, taking a small step back. “I'm not the same person you used to know, and recovering my memories might not bring her back either. Most of what's left is just my body.”

“It doesn't matter,” he says so matter-of-factly it almost makes you want to believe him.

“Azriel-”

“No,” he brings both of his hands to hold onto your face gently, giving you no option but to look into his eyes, “I love you. That didn't change when you died or over the century that followed, when I didn't think I would ever see you again. It didn't change when I saw you in the townhouse or even when you stabbed me. And it won't change whether you get your memories back or not, if you choose to stay or not.”

“I don't love you,” the words stumble out desperately, tears gathering in your eyes, “I don't even remember you, Azriel.”

“That doesn't change it either,” he smiles, thumb caressing your cheek softly. You know he means it then, know there's no way to change his mind even if for his own good. You can only pray to the Mother that your memories don't give you any unpleasant surprises. You're trying so hard to keep his heart safe, why must he keep offering to rip it out of his chest for you?

His expression changes abruptly as you're lost in thought and soon after you feel a presence in your mind before Rhysand's voice comes through. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Azriel's hands drop from your face then, a scowl overcoming his features. You can only imagine the words he's throwing at his brother in his mind, but Rhysand's voice returns, noticeably more amused, Our break is over. It's time to meet them back at the dungeon. I take it you'll fly our captive back? The answering growl that comes from the shadowsinger actually makes you hide a chuckle behind your hand. His gaze softening once again when he notices the gesture.

Despite the timing and the way he insisted on addressing you as “captive” to rile Azriel up, you could actually thank Rhysand for breaking you away from the moment. He's right, you've rested more than enough and it's now time to go back and finish what you started. You only have the luxury of dealing with your marriage after Norris is gone and you could actually remember your husband.

The flight to the dungeon is a lot easier this time as your prior annoyance was replaced with strangely welcomed awkwardness and a tinge of bashfulness. As much as you tried to deny it, you can't pretend Azriel's admission hadn't made your heart want to leap out of your chest. You don't think anyone could have remained impartial to such a confession, especially coming from a male like Azriel, but as soon as you step into the dungeon, you feel yourself morph back into the cold assassin. You could even feel Azriel's mask fall over his face as well, ready to resume what you'd started before.

This same routine is repeated for a few days, slowly but surely wearing the formidable assassin down. It wouldn't be long until Rhysand or Feyre could read through his mind completely even if he didn't willingly tell you anything. This sentiment was felt among all of you, it's like you could all taste how close he was to breaking.

You came back from one of your mandatory breaks to see Cassian leaning by the cell door, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at your prisoner as Amren stood in the middle of the cell covered in blood, a wicked grin on her face as Norris looked the most unsettled you'd ever seen him. She was told to hold back in the first days but since Norris insists on resisting, Rhysand had allowed her to toy with him. You truly hope you never cross her, just the thought of the things she could do makes every hair on your body stand.

Everyone stays in the room this time, knowing it's only a matter of time. Azriel takes over once more, every slash of his knife meant to give Norris unimaginable pain, completely focused on making the short remaining of his life as miserable as he can.

The difference between the male who had confessed his undying love to you, held your hand as if you were the most precious thing in this world, and the one expertly carving out your former handler's body was almost unbelievable. Azriel's face showed nothing but anger, and even then you knew it wasn't even a quarter of the seething fury burning inside of him. This wasn't your doting husband, this was the Spymaster.

You feel Rhysand's dramatic show of power before you see him walk into the cell, hands in pockets as if he was walking into his kitchen instead of a seedy dungeon reeking of blood and sweat. He passes by you and joins Azriel in tormenting Norris, letting sharp black talons run across the mental walls he's been so desperate to maintain. The smirk on his mate's face, who leans against the table calmly by your side, tells you they might even be teaming up on him.

Fatigue was starting to eat away at everyone the longer you spent inside the windowless cell, but, as Norris smirks lessened and his bared teeth stopped being enough to hide the obvious grunts of pain, his skin paling considerably as his blood pooled at his feet, it was clear that you were on the right track, only needed to keep pushing.

Your handler had started answering more questions too, if only to keep you distracted and away from any blades long enough. It's hard to believe that the male you've been frightened of for a century is the same one chained in front of you. If it weren't for the stubbornness and the pride he's managed to keep somehow, you wouldn't have believed it at all.

“This whole mission was a gamble. We couldn't know for sure if they'd written you off their wards even if they thought you were dead. When you walked in so easily I thought it would be a piece of cake from there. Seems I was wrong.” You had guessed as much. At the time, being sent to an unknown place on such short notice seemed strange and sloppy for how usually crafted the guild's plans were, but knowing what you do now, it makes sense. Not only were you written into the wards as he said, but if it hadn't been for the strange nostalgic feelings inside you, Azriel would have let you escape, you would have even killed him to do so.

“The spell should have sealed your memories and feelings tight,” Norris continues as if sensing your thoughts, “I'm not sure what is trying so hard to claw its way out from behind those walls.” He tilts his head to the side and pauses as if he found the answer and that self-assured smirk reappears on his lips. The sight makes your skin crawl, your powers reacting with you and sending an icy chill into the room. Temperature dropping as his smirk only widens even more and Azriel looks at you with a worried expression before catching himself. “Maybe I just messed up the spell,” he dismisses.

“What do you mean?”

“It is a tricky spell,” he shrugs nonchalantly, knowing that's not what you asked. Azriel moves before you, Truth Teller slashing across his skin for the millionth time, but Norris seems intent on keeping at least this last piece of information to himself. There's more to this, you know there is, but the interrogation moves on to matters of the guild. Rhysand is still worried that they will come for you now that you've deserted, and that they will bring harm to his beloved court.

Within the next few hours, Norris' healing stops being able to keep up with his injuries, even his voice losing strength. It seems like he was focusing the remaining of his energy on keeping his mental walls safe, but it's not long until you see Rhysand's smirk grow, a satisfied wicked thing on his face.

You watch as Norris' head goes limp, unfocused eyes dropping to the ground as the High Lord searches through his mind, probably making it as unpleasant as he possibly can. Your heart starts beating faster in your chest, anxiety building up at the thought that this could have all been for nothing, that Norris might not have the answer after all. You feel a hand on your shoulder but don't even have the mind to look back and check who is trying to comfort you.

When he finally steps back, he simply gives you a nod and a breath of relief escapes you as you stare back into Norris' eyes. You watch Azriel and Rhysand share a look in the corner of your eye, never daring to look away from Norris' defeated face. Within moments everyone starts clearing out of the cell in silence, leaving you and your shadowsinger standing over the prisoner.

It's only when Azriel's hand reaches for yours, tugging on it to get your attention that you look away. His eyes don't give away much and he doesn't say the words, but as he places Truth Teller in the palm of your hand, you know exactly what he means. He nods at you once and drops your hand, taking a step back and giving you space.

You look down at the dagger in your hands, the same one you had held to wound the male who now handed it to you, the one you'll now use to set yourself free. Describing the feeling running through your body is impossible, you always thought you'd die in the guild, as an assassin. Never even dared to think you could be more, never thought it would be possible to get out alive and find a life for yourself. You thought you'd be scared at the prospect but you can only feel excitement and relief.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you walk to Norris and pull on his hair to lift his face to yours, so he can see all the hate and anger in your gaze before you stab the knife through his right eye slowly, making sure to get it through his brain, deep enough that no amount of healing or any trick he might have had up his sleeve would be able to save him, and twisting it around. You don't move for a few moments, listening for his heartbeat and paying attention to the blood seeping out of the wound. It's only when you're sure he's dead, that his heart is completely quiet and enough blood has poured out, that you pull the knife out with a squelching sound, flicking it down to get rid of most of the blood and any pieces of flesh stuck to it.

You hesitate for a moment before turning back, meeting Azriel's eyes. As much as you'd told him there was no need for him to worry of your opinion of him changing after witnessing what he did to Norris, of ever being afraid of him, you had hypocritically been scared of letting him see you like this, of seeing the cold blooded killer you had become, so far detached from the wife in his memories.

All your worries are proven baseless however. The only thing you can distinguish in his eyes is relief, at having the answer to getting your memories back and having the person responsible for your pain killed. You can't help the smile growing on your face, not caring for how it must look against the blood covering most of your body, and wrap your arms around Azriel's neck, pulling him down into a hug as a sigh of relief escapes you, tears rising to your eyes and flowing down your cheeks. His arms come around you immediately, tightening his grip on you and burying his face in your neck, tears of his own wetting your skin.

You're finally free.

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