#but then it's been hitting my head that in case i lose all the files somehow (regardless of copies on USB sticks.)

[hiddencarpet]

[ID: Earthsea fanart. A digital artwork depicting Sparrowhawk and Vetch under starry sky. They are both sitting under a warm brown blanket. Exhausted Sparrowhawk sleeps leaning on Vetch and Vetch sings softly as he holds his hand. End ID]

Vetch singing for Sparrowhawk

[g0dlyunsub]

stitch me.

you were assigned to negotiate with an unsub keeping a group of females hostage, or so you thought. turns out he has a partner and he’s determined to destroy you, all in front of spencer.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: lots of physical violence, blood, mentions of murder, knife threats, biting, general criminal minds themes.

word count :: 1.8k

author’s note :: so… this is my first post, like ever. sorry if it’s poorly written, but i’m all for slightly (?) protective reid and just wanted to write about him :3 accompanying song :: savior by novulent

you knew something was more than just off the moment you were violently thrown into the room. the hostages were huddled near the left corner of the room, their eyes locked onto you as their shoulders shook in panic.

but the hostages were all supposed to be women. brunettes. young women in their twenties. so why was there a young man among them? there was no mention of a young man reported missing in the case files or when garcia had compiled the final list of hostages, so who was he?

must’ve been a gap in the reports, you shook your head and tried to get up, but your left cheek met the cold concrete ground once again.

“don’t move, sweetheart.” his knife was positioned at the nape of your throat, and you felt your breaths become more jagged, more erratic.

“listen, i swear i’ll make it up to you i never-“ your breath gets caught in your throat when the blade presses ever so slightly into your skin.

“shut your pretty little mouth. i know who you are, an undercover cop. if you think you’re so smart coming in here without your wire and gun, you should be prepared for the consequences.” he spits the words with a nasty drawl.

you barely have any time to respond as he lifts you up by the back of your shirt and drags you to an adjacent room. he grabs a fistful of your hair and throws you to the ground forcefully.

“all the other girls in there, they’re nothing compared to you. i’ll take my time with you, sweetheart”. he approaches you while cracking his knuckles and waving his knife around menacingly.

“who’s the boy?” your voice comes out with a slight quiver, but you’re determined not to sound scared. the man lets out a bellowing laugh in response, examining his knife in one hand.

“that’s my buddy jack. you cops surely would have done your research, right?” his hand is now gloved around your throat, and you struggle to loosen his grip with your arms.

this killer had a partner sitting right between the hostages and you and your team had completely missed the signs.

but the adrenaline must have kicked in at the right timing, since you manage to knock your head back into his face and quickly swivel to deliver a kick into his shins and bring him to his knees before he has any time to react with his knife. then you strike him unconscious with a swift elbow to his temple.

you barely have any time to recover, however, when a blow hits the back of your head and your world comes spinning down. before your eyelids slowly close, you manage to steal a glance at the perpetrator — the male hostage had knocked you with a bat and was now trying to shake his unconscious partner awake.

when you open your eyes, you can’t move. your arms are tied behind your back, and your legs are tightly trapped behind the legs of the chair with knots of rope. you were in the main room now with all of the other hostages, and the former hostage was on the ground, still trying to shake his partner awake.

“look what you’ve done, you stupid brat. i swear if you’ve killed him i'm going to SLIT YOUR THR-“ the crescendo of his voice halts with the abrupt ring of the telephone hanging on the wall. he huffs and makes his way to the phone, never losing his eye contact with you. you try to wrestle against the ropes, but your efforts are useless and your energy is at an all time low.

it was your team on the other end. they must have figured out that it was a team of two and not just one.

“your stupid cop knocked samuel cold and split his skin open. send me a medic and maybe i won’t kill all of them here”. jack’s tone is agitated, threatening, and also lost. now that his commander wasn’t in charge, he didn’t know what to do with the hostages, let alone you.

you can barely decipher hotch’s words as they filter through the noise of the phone. “release the women, and i’ll send you all the medical attention you need. we’ll make sure samuel gets the stitches.” his voice is level and controlled. you’ve always trusted hotch and you’ve always trusted your team, but you couldn’t help but let a sliver of anxiousness cloud your thoughts.

and oh god, spencer. how would he cope when you were gone? how would he react at the sight of your cold body, drowned in the blood of the other hostages? tears fill your eyes and you make a poor attempt to swallow them back.

just as you think of your boyfriend, you hear his name through the phone.

“we're going to send in doctor spencer reid to have a look at samuel, alright jack? i want you to let the women go first. the sooner you do this, the sooner samuel gets his help”.

no. no, no, no. NO.

you squirm in your seat, trying to divert jack’s attention.

“wait-“ you try to shout, before jack cuts you off: “SHUT UP! this is all your fault!” he rolls his eyes before he turns around. jack’s knuckles had turned white, maintaining a deathly grip on the telephone.

“fine. but the cop stays with me.” he slams the phone before he rushes back to check on samuel.

the women are released one by one, each frantically making their way out, and you can hear cops outside ushering them and retreating.

it’s only a few minutes later when you hear the familiar sounds of the leather shoes make their way inside of the room. it’s spencer, and he has no wire, no gun, no vest. he’s carrying a medical first aid kit and making his way toward samuel, but not before taking a glance at you.

your world collapses, right there and then. he’s made the same mistake you had by entering without his gun and vest, and you had to give him a signal somehow. if luck was on your side, spencer would make it out alive. but you? your chances are slim.

“hurry up and stitch him up. don’t fuckin look at the other cop.” jack points his knife at spencer, and you let out a hitched yelp. please don’t hurt him. hurt me instead.

spencer gets down to work quickly, examining and tending to the wounds on samuel’s face, and he doesn’t look up in your direction once. jack’s watching him the entire time, tapping his left foot in impatience.

“there. he’s all good, samuel just needs some time to recov-“ spencer raises his arms and turns his back against you, and faces jack as he speaks.

“shut- sit on that chair”. jack motions at spencer to sit down on the chair across from you. you shake your head fervently, yelling constant streams of don’t to him. but he obliges.

“put your arms behind your back,” jack orders, and spencer obliges. you make a desperate attempt and kick at jack to try and distract him. but jack only slaps you in the face with his backhand before aiming the knife at spencer. your boyfriend flinches, and his friendly facade is now masked with a deathly glare.

“don’t move.” jack grabs duct tape and moves swiftly to bind spencer’s hands together behind the chair. you hang your head down. it’s over.

“listen, let spence- let him go. it’s just between you and me, your partner said you only need me”. you shakingly drew in a deep breath as you spoke.

jack chuckles before he makes a step toward you. the next thing you know, he’s grabbed you by the hair and he’s delivering punches left and right, hurling screams of expletives and slurs. he’s lost it. and you were going to die.

he positions the knife at your chest, and you know he'll do it. you know he will drive that blade straight to your skin. straight to your heart.

“STOP. STOP! PLEASE!” you hear spencer rocking his chair forwards, and jack finally stops. you can’t breathe with all the blood pooling in your mouth, and you let the excess drawl out of your lips to land on the floor.

“jack, listen to me, please.” spencer looks at you with pleading eyes, silently signaling you to not move. to not agitate jack further.

“no. samuel said he was gonna kill her and i have to finish what he started for him”. jack leans forward and pulls the collar of your shirt outwards, and bites down on your neck. you let out a painful scream, tears running down your face just as more blood leaves the corner of your lips. spencer thrashes in his chair, trying to shift jack’s attention.

“but i stitched him up. samuel will live. let her go. you can take it out on me.” spencer’s voice is desperate, but there’s a tone of controlled execution, because his voice isn’t quivering like before.

at that instant, doors fling open and less than a millisecond later, jack drops to the ground, his knife toppling down to the floor soon after. the team of cops, along with hotch and rossi, make their way toward you and spencer, untying the knots.

between the yells of “we need a medic” and comforting words of “you’re going to be okay” being uttered left and right, you hear spencer’s voice. it’s seemingly amplified for some reason, and you can’t help but smile. your boyfriend rushes towards you, sweeping your hair and cradling you back and forth in his arms.

“you’re so brave, you’re so brave y/n.” his voice comes out stifled and hoarse, and you feel him grip your hand even tighter.

“i’m so sorry i let you go in there alone. i’m so sorry i let him do that to you, torture you and almost-“ his head buried into the crook of your neck, and he lightly kisses you right above the dried cut where jack had attacked you.

you turn your head ever so slightly to get a better look at spencer. tears coat his eyelashes and his mouth shakes as he talks. a soft groan rolls out from the back of your throat, and you snuggle deeper into spencer’s hold.

“keep… talking. i want… to hear… you.” you manage to let out, and spencer’s eyes widen.

“of course. i can do that. i’ll keep talking to you, y/n. focus on my voice, can you do that?” he asks with a slight squeeze to your palm. you give a slow nod in return.

that’s all he needs, because when the medics transfer you into the ambulance, he’s sitting right beside you, not letting go of your hand, and whispering nothing but bittersweet apologies.

his voice is the only stitch you need.

[luveline]

hi i just got a haircut and feel very cute :) can i request r getting a haircut and the bau team fawning over it (with derek or spencer it’s up to you)

ty for ur request! this ended up being reader x the whole team, but heavily derek, and more subtly spencer !! fem!reader

cw readers hair was longer, and is now short

You take a deep, slow breath before you open the door that leads to the office. The first thing you see is Derek, to your horror, perched like he's waiting for you on the lip of his desk. 

Hotch must have known the agony with which you'd be subjected sitting across from someone like Derekz and he did it anyway. Handsome, caring, flirtatious to a fault, it was a recipe for heartbreak in the making. You quite like your new haircut; if Derek or the others don't feel the same you'll be mortified. 

You keep your head down as you walk to your desk. If you see Derek's expression, you'll lose all steam. You don't look up until you're close enough to smell his warm, understated cologne, raising a nervous hand to a button on your shirt. 

"Hi, Morgan," you say. 

"Oh, no, baby, we're on a first name basis," he says, raising his eyebrows at you. "Is this a joke?" 

"Am I usually joking?" you ask weakly. 

Derek shakes his head from side to side, crossing his arms over his chest, a ball of kinetic energy like the mere sight of you invigorates him. Safe to say he likes it, safer still when he brings a hand to his jaw and scrubs at it. "I don't even know what to say," he remarks, with all the intonation of a man disappointed. 

He sighs tiredly and pulls his phone out of his pocket, hitting the first button on his speed dial. Within seconds he's been answered, the phone pressed to his ear. "Hey, babygirl. You better get to the bullpen stat. It's an emergency."

"Derek, you'll give her a heart attack!" 

"Am I lying?" he asks. 

"Let up, Morgan," Emily says, coming up behind you to squeeze your shoulders. "It looks amazing. When did this happen?"

"Why wasn't I informed?" Derek asks.

"Oh my god!" JJ cheer-whispers, a stack of case files in her arms as she approaches from her office. "You cut your hair! It looks so good, why didn't you say anything?" 

"It was kind of a spur of the moment decision," you say, flushing from all the attention. 

Derek's still pretending to be mad, though an undeniable appreciation lines his mouth. Frowny brows, poorly hidden grin. 

"Spencer," Emily says, nudging a hyper-focused Spencer in the shoulder where he sits huddled at his desk. 

Spencer looks up from his book and it promptly falls between his hands. He reaches down to grab it in a panic and smacks his forehead on the desk. 

"Spence!" JJ yelps, rushing forward to help him. Her files slide out flat onto his desk as she pulls his head up. "Jesus, Spencer." 

You're about to lend a hand when a familiar and bubbly voice shouts unashamedly across the bullpen. "Oh my god! Y/N? Y/N! Oh my god, you look so pretty!" 

You spin on your heel to offer Penelope a thankful smile. "Pen, you said that before you even really saw it."

"I'm seeing it now, aren't I?" she asks, rushing forward in a cloud of curly blonde hair. The hot pink ruching on her corset top scratches your arms as she grabs you in a sideways hug. "We don't see you for a week and you cut all your hair off?" 

"Hey– hey!" Derek says. "Don't act like this isn't the best thing to happen to this department since Prentiss joined. You were something else before," —Derek nods appreciatively, a low whistle escaping pursed lips— "but now? You better clear your schedule, baby. Me and you are going out." 

"I think he's serious," Emily says, her jaw dropped. 

You raise a hand to your eyes, completely overwhelmed by the chaos. "Is something wrong?" Hotch asks from the balcony, killing your stolen reprieve immediately. You look up to find him watching over you all with a boss brand of disapproval. 

"Haircut," Penelope says nervously, pointing at your face. 

Hotch visually notices your hair. His smile is genuine. "It looks nice," he says. 

"Thank you, sir," you say, well and truly spent. In the best way possible, your team smothers you with love. If you'd known they'd react like this you would've cut your hair a long time ago. 

Except for what it's done to poor Spencer, nursing a sizable red welt atop his eyebrows. 

"You okay?" you ask, bending at the waist to smile at him apologetically. 

The excitement must be getting to him too, his usually pale cheeks kissed by a rosy twinge. "I'm fine." 

"Round table," Rossi suggests where he stands to Hotch's left, "before young Reid passes out."  

[doctorbitchcrxft]

No Exit | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? )

Warnings: Jo and reader are dicks to each other, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5754

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You and the Winchester boys had been hunkered down in the rooms Ellen told you about the first time she met you for a few days now. You were grateful for her generosity while you and the brothers tried to pin down your next move with the demon or another hunt, but you were going stir crazy. You sat on the hood of the Impala under the shade of a tree pouring through newspapers. Sam and Dean approached you after a few hours of you researching.

“What are you doing to my baby?” Dean asked you.

“Dee, she’s fine, we’re bonding,” you said, tapping the spot next to you on the hood. “Nothing’s dented or broken; promise.”

He gave you a skeptical look but said nothing else.

“ ‘Sides, I was getting ready to come get you anyway,” you said, hopping down. “I think I got something. Los Angeles, California.”

“What’s in L.A.?” Sam asked.

“Young girl's been kidnapped by an evil cult,” you smirked.

“Yeah? Girl got a name?” 

“Katie Holmes.”

Dean chuckled, and a grin spread across your face. 

“Seriously, though, it’s like all things supernatural disappeared off the face of the earth,” you continued.

Dean turned his head toward the Roadhouse at the sound of a glass breaking. “Ooh, catfight.”

You grimaced and followed the boys into the bar cautiously. Ellen and Jo were arguing loudly about Jo wanting to go off and Ellen wanting her to stay at the Roadhouse or go back to school. She stopped shouting when she noticed you. “Guys, bad time.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Sam said. The three of you turned to leave.

Dean got one more quip in, saying, “Yeah, we rarely drink before ten anyway.”

“Funny, let’s go,” you deadpanned, grabbing his jacket lightly and pulling him to the door.

“Wait. I wanna know what they think about this,” Jo said.

At the sound of the creaking front door, you turned to see a family with two kids under three walking in wearing bright yellow “Nebraska is for Lovers” t-shirts.

Ellen continued to yell despite the customers that had entered. “I don't care what they think!”

The father of the two young kids cut Ellen off. “Are you guys open?”

Jo yelled, “No!” and her mother yelled, “Yes!”

The dad grimaced and shrank away. “We’ll just… check out the Arby’s down the road.”

The phone rang as the family left, and Ellen went to answer it. Jo turned to you and the brothers; her gaze mostly focused on Dean, per usual. 

“Three weeks ago, a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment.” She shoved a file at Dean. Dean looked down at it strangely.  “Take it, it won't bite,” she said.

“No, but your mom might,” he responded.

Jo’s lips pinched, still holding out the folder. He took it reluctantly as Jo continued explaining. “And this girl wasn't the first. Over the past eighty years six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes. Only happens every decade or two so cops never eyeball the pattern. So we're either dealing with one very old serial killer, or—”

Dean flipped through it and cut her off. “Who put this together? Ash?"

Jo smiled proudly. “I did it myself.”

Dean hummed, impressed, and you took the folder from him. You flipped through it, secretly hoping to find holes in it somewhere, but you couldn’t at first glance. You were impressed, too, much to your chagrin.

“I gotta admit. We hit the road for a lot less,” Sam added.

“Good. You like the case so much, you take it,” Ellen stated.

“Mom!”

“Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. And I won't lose you too. I just won't.”

Your gaze softened as you took in Ellen’s grief-stricken features. You could completely empathize with how that felt. And so, you and the brothers set off. 

***

“I feel kind of bad, snaking Jo's case,” Sam said as the three of you stalked around the deceased’s apartment.

“I don’t,” you said. “Her mom’s only trying to protect her.”

“Exactly. Maybe she put together a good file,” Dean added, “but could you see her out here working one of these things? I don't think so.”

You pulled out your EMF meter and continued walking around the very nice apartment. “What I wouldn’t give to have one of these,” you muttered. “You getting anything?”

“No, not yet,” replied Sam. Just as he spoke, you heard his meter beeping. He leaned over to something in front of him, and you walked over.

“What's that?” you asked.

“What?” Dean came up behind you as Sam reached down to the lightswitch and lightly touched it.

“Holy crap,” the younger Winchester said.

Dean reached forward, too. “That's ectoplasm. Well, Sam, I think I know what we're dealing with here. It's the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.”

You snickered. “Can we get through one hunt without a Ghostbusters reference, please?”

“Never.”

“Guys, focus, please,” Sam deadpanned. “I've only seen this stuff, like, twice. I mean, to make this stuff you have to be one majorly pissed off spirit.”

“Alright, let's find this badass before he snags any more girls,” Dean said. You followed him out of the apartment and immediately had to cling to a wall to avoid being seen by the approaching voices. Your face fell when you realized one of the voices was Jo’s.

“It is so spacious.” Her voice was getting closer. “You know, my friend told me I absolutely have to come check it out, and I have to admit, she was right. You did a really good job with this place.”

Dean stepped out suddenly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“There you are, honey,” Jo grinned, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist. You could’ve killed her.  “This is my boyfriend Dean, and his buddies, Sam and (Y/N).”

“Good to meetcha,” the landlord said. “Quite a gal you've got here.”

Dean smacked her ass roughly, trying to convey his frustration to her. “Oh yeah, she's a pistol.”

“So, did you already check out that apartment? The one for rent,” Jo asked Dean.

“Yeah. Yes. Loved it. Heh. Great flow.”

“How'd you get in?” the landlord asked.

Dean swallowed harshly. “It was open.”

“Now, Ed, um, when did the last tenant move out?” Jo grinned back at the landlord.

“Oh, about a month ago. Cut and run, too. Stuck me for the rent.”

“Well. Her loss, our gain! 'Cause if Dean-o loves it, it's good enough for me.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Dean gritted through his teeth, smacking her again.

Jo pulled out a wad of cash. “We’ll take it.”

The landlord’s eyes widened, and he immediately brought you back to the front office to get a key.

***

You paced around the lovely apartment furiously at Jo re-hijacking the hunt you’d hijacked from her. 

“I’ll flip you for the sofa,” she said to you.

“Does your mom even know you’re here?” you asked.

“Told her I was going to Vegas.”

You scoffed. “She’s not stupid, She’s not gonna buy that.”

“I'm not an idiot,” Jo challenged. “I got Ash to lay a credit card trail all the way to the casinos.”

Dean took your humorless laugh as an opportunity to jump in before you got any uglier. “You know, you shouldn't lie to your mom. Shouldn't be here, either.”

“Well, I am,” she said. “So untwist your boxers and deal with it.”

“Where'd you get all that money from, anyways?” Sam questioned.

She gave a prideful smile. “Working. At the Roadhouse.”

“Hunters don’t tip that well,” Dean replied.

“Well, they aren't that good at poker, either,” she smirked.

‘Take away her immaturity, inexperience, rashness, and massive crush on Dean, I probably could be friends with her,’ you thought.

Dean’s cell phone rang. “Yeah?” He answered, still glaring at Jo. “Oh, hi, Ellen.” Dean and Jo had a furious muttered argument before he said, “I haven’t seen her” back into the phone. “Yeah, I'm sure… Absolutely.” Dean hung up, and Jo grinned cheerfully.

“Why didn’t you tell her?” you hissed at Dean. “Ellen’s gonna murder us.”

“Seriously?” Jo folded her arms at you. “You’re scared of my mom?”

“No,” you spat back. “I just don’t wanna babysit the whole time I’m trying to hunt.”

“(Y/N), stop it,” Sam warned.

“Me? This chick has a death wish, and I need to ‘stop it’?” you snarked. “I’m going to get some air.” You stomped out of the room, Dean trailing behind you.

“(Y/N), where are you going?” he asked.

“Away,” you snorted. “She’s pissing me off. I’m not hunting with her.”

He grabbed your arm. “I’m not happy, either, but what’s this really about?”

You felt caught. “What?”

“You heard me. What’s goin’ on? You’re normally the one who has to talk me off the ledge. Not the other way around,” he said.

You lowered your voice. “I don’t trust her,” you began. “I don’t trust her to have any of our backs. All she’s tried to do thus far is get in your pants and act like an immature brat.

"She has potential, sure, and she’s smart, but she’s not one of us. And I have no idea what her skillset is. She pointed a rifle at you one time; we’ve never seen her use one. She could be an awful shot. And she has no idea how to actually kill anything. She’s, what, twenty-one, twenty-two? She didn’t grow up hunting. She has no experience.

"She doesn’t belong here. And you not telling Ellen she’s here was a huge mistake. Because now, she’s our responsibility. And like I said, I’m not babysitting. If it’s between you or Sam, and her, I’m saving you and Sam every time.”

Dean smirked down at you.

“What?” you hissed.

“You’re jealous,” he said simply.

“Seriously? Did you hear anything else I said?” You crossed your arms and quirked a brow.

He chuckled. “Yeah, I did, and I agree. I’ll watch her if you’ll watch Sam, okay? No blood on your hands if something happens to her,” he replied.

You shook your head. “No, Dean, I don’t like that, either—”

Dean smirked down at you. “What, don’t you trust me?”

“Of course, I do,” you replied. “I don’t trust her.”

He chuckled. “I think you said that already.”

“Just—” you huffed. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Dean snorted. “C’mon, it’s me we’re talking about. I’ll be fine. Will you come back and be civil now?” he asked.

“No promises.”

“Okay, I guess we’re doing this, then.” He raised his pinky at you, and you rolled your eyes.

“I can’t make a pinky promise I can’t keep,” you replied.

“That’s the point. You have to, so I know you’ll be civil.” Dean looked down at you, a challenge in his eyes and a smile plastered on his face.

“But—” you tried.

“No.”

“Dean,” you groaned but locked pinkies with him nonetheless.

“See, was that so hard?” he smirked down at you.

“You can’t use my own thing against me,” you said as you headed back to the apartment. “That’s against the rules of pinky promises.”

“Oh, there’s rules now?” Dean questioned playfully.

“There are when I say there are,” you responded flippantly, opening the door to the apartment.

Jo and Sam turned to face you, and you suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable. 

“Look, Jo—” you started.

“Save it. It’s fine,” she replied.

“Well, okay, then,” you mumbled, softly enough that only Dean could hear you mocking her. 

Dean gave you a warning look. “(Y/N).”

“I know, I know.”

***

You sat at the table with your laptop next to Sam as Dean paced around the room. Jo had been flipping her little knife around for the last thirty minutes while she looked over the blueprints for the apartment.

“This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago,” she explained.

“Yeah? What was here before 1924?” Dean questioned.

“Nothing. Empty field.”

“So, most likely scenario, someone died bloody in the building, and now he's back and raising hell,” Sam added.

Jo shook her head. “I already checked. In the past eighty-two years, zero violent deaths. Unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor.” She looked up to Dean. “Would you sit down, please?”

Dean sat hesitantly at the head of the table, eyeing Jo guardedly. “So, have you checked police reports, county death records—”

“Obituaries, mortuary reports and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing,” she said.

“Jury’s still out on that one,” Dean replied. “Could you put the knife down?”

She complied, eyeing him angrily. He glared back.

Sam huffed. “Okay! So, uh, it's something else, then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it.”

“Meh, unless somebody’s got a relic from an Egyptian tomb, I’m not sure a cursed object has the kind of spirit power necessary to make ectoplasm,” you said. 

Jo completely ignored you. “Well, we've got to scan the whole building. Everywhere we can get to, right?”

“Right. So. You and me, we'll take the top two floors,” Dean said firmly. “Sam and (Y/N)’ll take the bottom two.”

“We'd move faster if we split up,” the blonde tried.

“Oh, this isn't negotiable,” Dean responded. 

***

You and Sam returned to the room way sooner than Dean and Jo did. The two of you found nothing of particular interest, unfortunately, and opted to just sprawl out on the couch and floor watching a rerun of Seinfeld. 

“I just wanted to tell you,” Sam began, “I don’t think you’re wrong about Jo. Just… tone it down a bit. My brother’s dickish enough to her.”

You sighed. “Dean made me pinky promise I would be civil, so you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

He scoffed. “My brother made you pinky promise?”

You giggled. “I introduced him to the concept.”

“What have you done to him?” Sam chuckled sarcastically. 

You shook your head. “I have no idea. I don’t know what he’s doing to me, either.”

Sam paused. “Have you… talked about it at all?”

You nodded your head from side to side as if to say, “sorta.” “I just don’t think now’s the right time. I mean, after your dad, I don’t wanna take advantage of that or him to use me as a distraction.”

He nodded in understanding. “I get it. But… I also don’t think Dean would use you.”

You shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.” You paused. “How are you holding up, by the way? We haven’t had much of an opportunity to hang out one-on-one recently.”

“Honestly? Not great,” he sighed. “I’m scared, man. I don’t know what’s happening or how to stop it. And I think my dad died thinking I hate him.” Tears began to well in his eyes. “I never should’ve said those things to him.”

You got up from the floor and went to sit next to him. You reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing firmly. “If it helps at all, I think my dad died thinking the same. And that feeling goes away after a while. I think both our dads knew that despite our many, many, many issues with each other, the bottom line is, we loved each other a lot.”

He squeezed your hand back and looked at you with sad, puppy-dog eyes. “I hope you’re right.”

The door opened to reveal Dean and Jo bickering and Dean’s fist clenched around a clump of blonde hair with skin attached to it. 

You giggled. “What, you hate each other that much that you ripped a piece of Jo’s hair out?”

Dean deadpanned, “No, smartass. We found this in a vent.”

Your stomach dropped. “Oh. Gross.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Dean grumbled. He opened the trash can in the room and dumped it inside.

“Alright, it’s getting late,” Jo stated. “Who’s sleeping where? There’s four of us, two beds, and a couch.”

“(Y/N) and I’ll take a bed,” Dean said casually almost immediately. “Sam’ll take the other. Jo, you got the couch.”

The three of you were stunned at Dean and his adamancy. 

Oh-kay,” Jo said, still shocked. 

“C’mon,” Dean said, jerking his head toward one of the rooms. He picked up your duffel bags and headed off.

You followed behind, saying “Goodnight, guys,” and shut the door behind you. You tapped the sides of your thighs with your palms as you stayed firmly planted by the door.

Dean seemed to feel a little awkward, too, and blew out a breath. “Was this… uh, okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah! Yeah. Sure. Why not? We’re adults. We’re friends. We can share a bed. No big.”

He chuckled. “You sure? You ramble when you’re nervous.”

“Nervous?” you laughed awkwardly. “Why would I be nervous?” He raised a brow at you, and you took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I’ve just… I’ve never… Hunting’s lonely. Even when I did hook up, I’d leave before I fell asleep.”

Dean seemed stunned. “Really? Why?”

“I don’t know, it just… felt too intimate, I guess? And I’ve never had anybody I seriously cared about that I’d want to experience that with,” you explained, sitting on the foot of the bed and kicking off your shoes.

His voice quieted considerably. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

You nodded. He seemed to understand what that meant, though both of you refused to talk about it. 

Dean showered, as did you, and then you climbed into bed next to one another. The two of you seemed to have scooted to the far edges of the bed, facing away from each other. After several minutes in silence, Dean spoke up.

“(Y/N)?” he murmured.

“Yeah?” 

“C’mere.” 

You could feel yourself getting flustered as you shuffled over to Dean, who now laid in the center of the bed. He opened his arms and wrapped them around you, allowing you to lay on his chest. You rested your hand on his stomach, and he took in a sharp breath.

“Should’ve cleaned the pipes,” he muttered.

You scoffed. “Perv,” and moved your arm across his stomach completely. You settled into him and drifted off to the most peaceful sleep you’d had in a while.

***

The next time you awoke, you felt arms around you, and you tensed. It took you a second to remember Dean was sleeping soundly next to you. His arms held tighter when he felt you shift, and you turned your face toward his. You smiled sadly at his beautiful, peaceful face, knowing this hunt would be the only time for quite a while that you’d get to wake up to him. You closed your eyes and nuzzled back into him, only to feel him groan above you; beginning to awaken.

“Morning,” he said. His sleepy voice was incredibly attractive. His arms didn’t move from around you.

A smile spread across your face. “G’morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Great, actually,” he admitted. He almost looked sad and regretful as he looked down at you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“You’re confusing me again,” Dean said.

You looked away from him, understanding. Your face fell, too. “You’re confusing me, too.”

“I want to… be more to you so bad,” he began, “but I can’t. I’m tired, (Y/N). I’m so fucking tired. I’m tired of this job, I’m tired of dealing with my dad, I’m tired of… all of it.”

“I know,” you said. “So, what do you want us to do? Do you— Do you want me to leave?”

“No, god, no,” he said quickly. “I don’t know what I want.”

You snorted. “Well, what is it you don’t want? Why don’t we start there?”

He considered for a moment. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

“You won’t,” you immediately said.

“Will you let me finish?”

“Sorry.”

He sighed. “I don’t wanna name and claim anything right now. I don’t wanna be just your best friend, but I also— I don’t think I can—” Dean paused and took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t be able to give you what I want to give you right now. I can’t be what you deserve.”

“Dean,” you said. “This is a very low-pressure situation. I know you and I can’t go there right now. I know that. And… I want to, too. I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about… anybody else.” You swallowed tensely, not sure if you’d said too much. “I— I want you to heal. And I know you’re tired. And I know it’s awful. And I hope that one day, I can make things better for you. But I also know that you have to fix you first. But until then, we can just be us. I won’t initiate anything. I need you to come to me when you’re ready. And until then, we’ll just be you and me.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

You smiled softly. “Always.”

***

After you and Dean talked things over a bit, you learned from Sam that another girl had died. Dean was off to investigate the room while you, Sam, and Jo researched. Jo wouldn’t look at you with anything but disgust after you spent the night with Dean. Her schoolgirl-ish crush was beginning to really just annoy you more than make you jealous.

Dean burst through the door. “Teresa Ellis, Apartment 2F. Boyfriend reported her missing around dawn.”

“And her apartment?” Jo questioned.

“Cracks all over the plaster, walls, ceiling. There was ectoplasm, too.”

“Well, between that and that tuft of hair, I'd say this sucker's coming from the walls,” Sam added.

“But who is it? Building's history is totally clean,” Dean reminded you.

There were various pictures and blueprints from Jo’s file spread across the table between you, Sam, and Jo. You picked up a picture of the field where the apartments now stood. Next to it was a building with bars on its windows. “Check this out. We’re next door to a prison.” 

“Nice going, (Y/N),” Sam grinned. 

Jo pulled out her phone. “I’ll call Ash—”

“No,” you shook your head, standing. “Let me figure this one out. Something about this is sounding really familiar to me, and it’s gonna bother me if I’m not the one to nail it down.”

“And what a shame that would be,” Jo snarked.

You glared at her as you continued to pace around the room. “Blonde hair, in the walls, prison, field, Philadelphia…” you murmured to yourself. You repeated it over and over to yourself until something struck you. “H. H. Holmes,” you breathed. “Holy shit.”

“What? What about him?” Sam questioned, straightening in his seat.

“That was his whole thing! He was really, and I mean, really into blondes— though, he’d kill just about anybody— had his whole ‘murder castle’ thing in Chicago, and the feds tracked him all the way to Boston. They brought him back to Philly, and he was hanged. Hence, field. Fields next to old prisons were almost always used for hangings,” you explained.

“What do you mean, ‘murder castle’?” Jo questioned. “And how do you know all this?”

“I like true crime,” you shrugged. “He built all these fake walls, fake hallways; his place was a fucking maze. Acid vats, trap doors, quicklime pits all up in his basement— although most of that was probably sensationalized— but anyway, this guy was a complete freak. ‘Multi-murderer’ was first used to describe him before they knew what serial killers were. He confessed to twenty-seven murders, but he probably killed over a hundred. He, uh, he used chloroform to kill his victims.”

Dean nodded, “Which is what I smelled in the hallway last night.”

“At his place,” you continued, “cops found human remains, bone fragments, and long locks of bloody blonde hair.”

Dean snickered at Jo. “Boy, you sure know how to pick 'em.”

“Well, we just find the bones, salt 'em and burn 'em, right?” she said, anxiously.

“Nope. His body’s in town encased in a couple tons of concrete,” you responded.

“What, why?” she asked.

“Didn’t want anybody fuckin’ with his corpse. ‘Cause, y’know, that’s what he did,” you cringed. 

“Wait, (Y/N), that means Teresa could still be alive. Inside the walls,” Sam added.

You nodded. “Yeah. Poor girl.”

“We need sledgehammers, crowbars. We've got to smash these walls; anywhere thick enough to hide a girl,” Dean barked out, hurriedly moving around the apartment.

***

You went with Sam, and Dean went with Jo as he promised you he would. Sam couldn’t get too far into the crawl-spaces of the walls, and you insisted on pressing forward. If you could get through, then the space was big enough to hide a girl. 

“(Y/N), holler if you need, okay?” Sam called to you.

“I’m good, dude, I promise. But you do the same.” You continued to wriggle through winding, claustrophobia-inducing corridors till you came face to face with the man himself; H. H. Holmes. Although, this version of the famed serial killer was a lot more gray, decayed, and gaunt than the one you’d seen in pictures. You screamed, “Sam!” before the world went dark.

***

You next awoke in a box that eerily mirrored a coffin; it was made of wood and just big enough for you to lay down in. You pointed your flashlight up at the ceiling to see long, deep, bloodied gashes in the wood; presumably nail marks. You huffed out a shaky breath, collecting yourself, when you noticed a slit in the wood to your right. A noise startled your already shaken mind, and you heard Jo say, “Hello?” You refused to talk, worried that it would upset Holmes even more.

You heard another woman’s voice coming from a different part of the room. “Is- Is anybody there?”

Jo continued talking. “Your name's Teresa? This won't make you feel better, but I'm here to rescue you.”

“Oh, god. He's out there; he's gonna kill us!” Teresa cried.

“No, he won't. We're getting out,” Jo insisted. “My friends are looking for us; they'll find us.”

Footsteps fell eerily nearby, and you could vaguely make out something approaching you.

“Oh, god, he's here!” Teresa sobbed.

“Shh! Just be quiet!” Jo scolded.

‘So much for being quiet, Jo,’ you thought. The next thing you heard was Jo screaming in pain, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from calling out to her.

You took a knife out of your belt and began hacking at the wall. You kicked with all your might until you finally started to break through a little. Suddenly, a man’s mouth appeared at the opening you were making in the wood. 

“You're so pretty. So beautiful,” the spirit cooed, reaching in your cell to stroke your cheek. You cringed and turned away, groaning in disgust. You turned back and stabbed it with your knife, the spirit crying out before disappearing again. You went back to kicking and hacking at the door with even more force than before. At long last, the paneling came loose, and you laughed in relief. You pried the rest of the paneling away from the wall and rolled out onto the floor, catching yourself before you toppled over completely. When you stood and dusted off your hands, Holmes appeared behind you and clasped a hand over your mouth. You kicked and struggled against him, screaming behind his hand muffling you. You wrestled with him a bit more before the spirit suddenly let you go. He disappeared completely when you heard a gunshot go off.

“(Y/N)!” Dean ran into the room, holding a shotgun.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. “Holy shit, I’m so happy to see you.” You ran to him and wrapped your arms around him.

“Um, little help, here!” Jo said from her box. 

You ran to the wall next to her and picked up a crowbar lying nearby. You began prying the cell open, groaning strenuously as you did so. When it finally released, you helped Jo down. “You okay?” you asked her.

“Been better. Let's get the hell out of here before he comes back,” she answered.

“I’m not leaving here just yet,” you said.

“(Y/N), no—” Dean protested firmly. He seemed to understand what you were doing.

“What other plan do you have, Dean?” “Wait, what’s going on here?” Jo questioned.

“(Y/N)’s gonna use herself as bait,” he explained. 

“What, would you rather Jo be bait? I don’t think so,” you said flippantly. “Now, get them out of here.” You gestured to Sam to help a frightened Teresa and Jo out of the room. 

***

You sat in the center of the room completely unmoving. You sat cross-legged, breathing evenly. You’d learned long ago how to steel yourself to these situations. You grinned slightly when Holmes began to approach you. When he got very close, Dean yelled, “Now!” and Sam and Dean began shooting the bags of salt you’d strung up to the ceiling to create a perfect circle of salt around the spirit. You ran out of the circle, leaving Holmes trapped inside. He wailed and growled at you, running around the salt circle pathetically.

“Scream all you want, you dick, but there's no way you're stepping over that salt!” you laughed coldly.

You and the brothers climbed back up out of the sewer and closed the grate, fully silencing Holmes’ howls.

***

“So? This job as glamorous as you thought it would be?” Sam asked Jo as the three of you stood over the top of the closed sewer..

“Well, except for all the pee-your-pants terror, yeah. Sure. But that Teresa girl's gonna live a life because of us. It's worth it, isn't it?” Jo replied.

You nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

“Hey, what if somebody finds that sewer down there, or a storm washes the salt away?” she questioned.

Sam chuckled. “Both very fine points. Which is why we're waiting here.”

“For what?”

As if on cue, you heard the beeping of a large truck backing up. You grinned over your shoulder at Dean backing up the cement truck he’d stolen, and motioned for him to stop when the spout lined up over the sewer’s entrance.

Dean got out of the cab and came to stand next to you.

“You ripped off a cement truck?” Jo scoffed.

“We’ll give it back,” you shrugged. You turned a lever on the side of the truck and watched the cement pour down into the entrance. 

“Well, that oughta keep him down there till hell freezes over,” Dean grinned.

***

As you and the brothers were heading out with Jo in tow, Ellen appeared at the entrance of the apartments, intense anger bubbling just under the surface. You and the boys cringed at the sight of her.

“Mom—” Jo began.

“Not now.”

She forced the five of you to ride back to the Roadhouse in complete silence. Ellen sat in the front seat, staring blankly ahead, and you were sandwiched between Jo and Sam in the back.

Dean chuckled awkwardly. “Boy, you– you really weren't kidding about flying out, were you?”

“You told her?!” you couldn’t help but blurt out.

Ellen scowled at you in the rearview mirror. You shrunk under her gaze. 

“How about we listen to some music?” Dean flicked the radio on. Ellen immediately reached forward and flicked the radio off.

You looked up to Dean, who looked back to you.

“This is gonna be a long drive,” he muttered.

***

Ellen dragged her daughter into the Roadhouse by her elbow, and you and the brothers followed closely.

“Ellen? This is my fault. Okay?” Dean tried. “I lied to you and I'm sorry. But Jo did good out there. I think her dad would be proud.”

Ellen whipped around, angrily commanding, “Don't you dare say that. Not you. I need a moment with my daughter. Alone.”

The three of you left and loitered around in silence for the next few minutes. Jo stormed out of the Roadhouse soon after, tossing a glance to Dean to incentivize him to follow her.

“That bad, huh?” he asked as he walked after her.

“Not right now.”

“What happened? Hey, talk to me.” He grabbed her arm and spun her around.

Jo immediately jerked her arm out of Dean's grasp. “Get off me!”

“Sorry. See you around,” he said, turning back to you and Sam.

“Dean,” Jo’s broken voice called.

He turned back to the blonde.

“It turns out my dad had a partner on his last hunt. Funny, he usually worked alone; this guy did too, but,” she swallowed her forming tears, “I guess my father figured he could trust him. Mistake. Guy screwed up, got my dad killed.”

The older brother’s face scrunched up. “What does this have to do with—”

“It was your father, Dean.”

Dean scoffed. “What?”

“Why do you think John never came back? Never told you about us? Because he couldn't look my mom in the eye after that, that's why,” Jo spat.

“Jo—” Dean tried.

“Just... just get out of here. Please, just leave.”

The three of you did as Jo asked. You headed back to Bobby’s to regroup and find yourselves another hunt. Dean was silent on the multi-hour-long drive back. When you stopped at Bobby’s house, Sam went inside. Dean stayed seated in his car, and you stayed with him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

He scoffed. “ ‘What’s wrong’? Did you hear anything Jo said?”

“I did, I just wanted to see what’s goin’ on in your head,” you replied, unfazed by his attitude.

He shook his head and sighed. “If Ellen hated my dad so much and didn’t trust us at all, then why the fuck would she have called my dad in the first place?”

You nodded, getting out of the car; followed by Dean. “Yeah, I don’t get it,” you agreed. “She wants to get involved with your personal family shit and the demon and let us bunk at her place, and then bring up old crap you and Sam weren’t even a part of? I mean, I get that John did something that got ‘im killed, but I really don’t see how that’s your fault.”

“Whatever,” Dean grumbled. “At least we don’t have to babysit anymore.”

You snorted. “That’s one way to look at it, I guess. But you don’t have to pretend you’re not bothered by it. I know you are.”

He scoffed.

“Dean. I know you are. And I also know that I trust you with my life. And you know I don’t trust easily. You are not your father.” You walked up the steps into Bobby’s house, leaving Dean in the junkyard to mull over your words.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[fckeddiemunson]

Blurred Lines Pt. 2

Part One Here:

Summary: What was a one time thing is turning into a full fledged affair

Warnings: 18+ONLY MDNI. some choking, p in v, creampie, more cheating, handjob, spitting

Notes: AHH ok part 2 is here! Please enjoy, I may make a part 3 i have some ideas.....

2750 words

Getting away with cheating is not a humbling feeling. It boosts your ego without even realising it. And then suddenly you’re taking risks you never would have before. You think you’re untouchable. Especially in this case when there’s two parties involved who have so much to lose. It doesn’t get any better with time either, the longer you aren’t caught for the less careful you become about hiding fleeting glances, small, overlooked touches. Then there’s after work. Going back to your respective homes, playing a husband and father or playing a dutiful fiancé. You think it won’t catch up to you, but it always will.

The immediate day after you were with Rusty, you called in sick – something you had never done. You were sick to your stomach that day, you couldn’t even be at home. Dom was at home sleeping in the same bed you let Rusty fuck you in, worse in the same sheets. Your absence was met with a slew of texts from Rusty, get better soon, hope you’re in tomorrow, where’s the link to my google calendar?, please sweetheart I’m useless without you. It was honestly a bit overwhelming. You spent most of that day in your car, driving past the office about ten times like a maniac. Once evening hit and you knew Dom would have left for work you went home. You collapsed once inside, relief rushing through you at being alone. You breathed deeply and smelt the dinner Dom had cooked and left warming in the oven for you. despite the rough patch you were having, he still made time for you like this, it made you sick thinking about it. You frowned, a twinge of guilt coursed through you as picked at the food, not very hungry. Your phone vibrated, filling the silent void you had cocooned yourself in. you felt even worse checking the message, from Dom sending his love and hoping you enjoyed dinner. Sending back a message with love hearts you shut your phone and cringed. But as you sat there longer, chewing slowly on the potatoes your loving fiancé had cooked. You made a decision.  A decision to not let this effect you. Evidently you had gotten away with it. Everything would be fine so long as it remained a one-time thing.

The next morning you walked into the office with your head held high. Rusty had beat you into the office, not many people had filed in this early. You marched into his office locked the door and leaned against the door with your arms crossed.

“The other night was a one-time thing.” Your stern voice almost echoed in the room.

“Jesus. Keep your voice down!” Rusty looked suspiciously out the little window, not a soul was around besides the two of you. Ignoring him a little you continued; “I don’t regret it, god, I don’t regret it, but we have lives we must maintain.”

“I agree. We work so well together is all. We got carried away is what happened. For the record, I don’t regret it either, I should but I don’t. Shall we begin the day? Coffee?” Rusty had already made you a cup, it sat next to his on the desk. And just like that. It was swept under the rug, nothing more needed to be said.

A week passed uneventfully; more prep work was done for the woman whose body was found in the dumpster. The trial really was only another few weeks away and at this point it seemed cut and dry, open and closed. All thanks to your hard (very hard) work with Rusty that night. It wasn’t until you felt yourself staring at Rusty again when you should’ve been working that you felt concerned again. You felt an invisible tug towards him, a shudder in your lower stomach when you studied his lips for too long. You were reminded how good they felt on you, how good they felt on your neck – no. You shook your head, trying to snap out of your daydream, or more memory of Rusty.

The next week was full of late nights in the office with Rusty, the case now was too sensitive and confidential to work on anywhere else. Most of your team was in the office until about 8pm. It was the Friday before the trial was set to start, the following Monday. It was now approaching 8:30pm, everyone had already vacated, under the impression that we wouldn’t discover anything new this close to trial. But Rusty was insistent, he was beyond thorough and would not stop until he was satisfied there was nothing else to find. You had organised food for the two of you and stood in the break room, dishing up a plate of chicken and rice. Rusty was standing over his desk when you took it in, his hand catching yours as you placed his food.

“You know I really appreciate you. You’re the best assistant anyone could ask for.” His thumb rubbed the back of your hand, smiling.

“I’m much more than an assistant you know” You whispered, sliding your hand away.

“You’re so much more.” Rusty said quietly, you looked back at him. Without thinking, you tilted your head up and kissed him, eyes closing briefly. He kissed back, leaning into you. But it was all over too quickly, you pulled away, scurrying back to the break room to grab your food. You stood there with your hands on your hips, staring at the ground in disbelief. Another decision was made in that moment. The true point of no return.

**

“Fuck!” Rusty yelled after a few more hours of meticulous reading and frustrated re-reading of the case files.

“There’s just nothing else. I can’t find anything to fortify our case further.” Rusty slumped in his office chair, rubbing his temples and frowning.

“Maybe that’s because its already foolproof.” You offered, throwing your stack of papers back on the desk.

“No, it has to be better.” Rusty almost snapped, frustration overcoming him. You rolled your eyes, not appreciating the tone.

“Come on. Grab your things.” In a moment you were up, handbag and laptop in hand.

“What, why?” Rusty slowly got up, grabbing his things and attempting to tidy up before leaving for the weekend.

“We’re going to clear our heads.” You headed for the elevator; Rusty followed behind chuckling after you. Rusty’s arm brushed against yours the entire lift, he didn’t seem to want to move, and you were trying to stop yourself from moving closer to him. You looked at him again, his tie still tight from this morning. You placed your bag on the ground and reached up to his tie, dodging his gaze.

“Its now after work, got to loosen up a bit.” You loosened his tie, hands lingering on his chest, his warmth radiated up through your fingertips. In an instant, he backed you into the lift wall and kissed you deeply. You gasped as his hands pulled at the bottom of your shirt from your skirt, rucking it up and sliding his hands under. You felt his fingertips working upwards, running across your ribcage, feeling his way. He pulled his hands out and fiddled with the buttons up at your chest. The lift pinged as he undid two, exposing your cleavage to him, he looked smug as you walked to your car.

You drove the two of you to a cliff top lookout, it overlooked the whole city. At this time of night, you expected local teenagers with beer getting drunk, but it was thankfully deserted by the time you got up there. Rusty had asked many questions along the way, not a man who liked to be surprised. You had answered all of them, with Rusty kissing your hand. The city lights twinkled in the distance, feeling a lifetime away from the lookout. You sat in silence for a moment, both looking ahead at the view. It was you who broke the silence, sighing deeply and looking at Rusty.

“Fuck it.” You whispered, more to yourself and hiked up your skirt, climbing over the centre console, and into Rusty’s lap. He was amused, a smirk pulling at the edges of his lips.

“I don’t want it to be a one-time thing, Rusty. I want you. I have craved you ever since that night. I can’t stop thinking about you.” You knew you sounded obsessive and a bit crazy. You knew it was a lot to be asking of him, of anyone but that longing desire you had burned for him. You tried to be a head strong person, but you had somehow almost girl-bossed your way into an affair.

“I don’t like keeping secrets from my wife.” Rusty was already playing with the buttons on your shirt, teasing you.

“So, I’m sure you told her about the other night then?” You stared him down, lifting his chin and forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

“Just shut up.” Rusty’s voice was harsh as he snaked his hands around the back of your head, pulling you down for a kiss. It was rough, all teeth nipping at each other’s lips. You let him kiss you, your hands snaking down to play with the buckle on his pants. Rusty let out a deep sigh as your hand brushed against him. He was rigid as the back of your hand stroked him, pulling his cock out of his pants. You eagerly spat, it landed on his cock, Rusty hissed at the contact. He bucked his hips when you touched him, a soft whine escaping his lips as you jerked him up and down with lazy strokes. You leant forward, lips connecting to his exposed neck, you felt a low warming in your stomach as you licked a stripe up his neck, stopping at his jawline and kissing him along it finally reaching his mouth. You licked his lower lip, begging for entrance, whining when he waved a hand through your hair pulling back, his grip firm. You locked eyes as your hand continued to stroke him up and down, now painfully hard, the tip blushing pink as you ran your thumb over the slit. Rusty grunted your name, his head falling back against the seat. Taking the opportunity, you kissed him, pulling him in and biting his lower lip, running your tongue against his now swollen lip.

Rusty took the chance and pushed you back, landing against the dashboard, your legs spread for him, pussy covered only by sheer stockings. You started pulling them down awkwardly, attempting to shimmy them off you when Rusty put his hand on yours to stop. His wicked smirk returned, hands grabbing on the material at the apex of your thighs, gripping tight and ripping a hole in them. A surprised gasp left your mouth as you stared at him through half closed lids, lustfully enjoying the way Rusty kneaded at your exposed thighs. His hand grabbed your thigh dangerously high, his thumb swiping over your underwear, brushing your clit. His thumb hooked under the band, feeling the warmth of your cunt as he inched towards your dripping entrance. A mix between a moan and a dark chuckle left his mouth when he felt how wet you were for him. How all it took was a hand-job to get you aching for him. He looked at you then, and you felt powerful, eyes following your hand down and gripping his dick as you leant forward and grinded your hips down onto him, his tip flicking against your clit.

“Please.” He whispered, hips meeting your grinding, breathless moans leaving him. You slipped forward, tilted your hips and sunk down slowly onto his length. Rusty was big, there was no way to put it lightly and you hissed at the burn sinking further onto him. He knew it too, he chuckled once you took him all the way, pausing to breathe deeply. You moaned as he bucked up impatiently, pulling you towards him and gripping your hips tightly urging you to move on him. Settling yourself, you placed your hands on the car seat for leverage and began moving your hips up and down. You felt his cock sliding in and out of you and you relished the feeling, short panting moans as your pace quickened. Rusty’s fingers kneaded and bruised your hips as you rode him, helping you move as he bucked in shallow thrusts from below. He felt so deep inside you, his cock nudging against the spongey spot making you mew for him. You ground yourself down on him, your clit rubbing back and forth over his neat patch of hair, and you released a moan, feeling yourself getting closer and closer.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You whined as he tangled his hands in your hair, pulling you forward to kiss you. His thrusts deepened and quickened as you rested yourself on his shoulder, panting and moaning as his cock pumped in and out of you now almost harshly. He pushed you back against the dashboard, hand travelling up to your throat and holding you in place as he thrusted upwards into you, still seated in the car. His fingers wrapped around your throat, and he squeezed, testing the waters. Rusty groaned hotly, chuckling darkly as he felt your cunt clench when he squeezed. He did it again and you moaned, it came out high pitched and strained as Rusty kept his hand on your throat.

“Oh, you are a little slut for me, aren’t you?” Rusty’s voice had changed, he sounded rugged as he egged you on.

“My own personal stress relief. Isn’t that what you wanted, to ‘clear my head’?” Rusty felt his ego inflate ten-fold when he looked at you, mimicking your words from earlier. You met his eyes, cock drunk and watering as you held onto his hand, choking you. He tore his hand away from your throat, grabbed your leg and hitched it up higher, resting on his shoulder as he inched forward, fucking you deeper. You couldn’t answer him, you were too fucked out and teetering on the verge of an orgasm, eyes fluttering shut.

Rusty’s hand made its way to your cunt again, his thumb rubbed small circles on your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. You jerked against his touch, suddenly becoming too much as your orgasm built in your stomach.

“Rusty, its too much” you attempted to move his hand, but he gripped your wrist and held it away, his thumb moving quicker against you.

“You can take it sweetheart.” His thrusts quickened, his pace becoming erratic and sharp.

“Fuck.” You breathed out, immediately whining as you spasmed. A hot and cold feeling washed over you as Rusty kept on fucking you through your orgasm. Your cunt pulsed, over stimulated and Rusty wasn’t stopping, he was chasing his own high. He grunted and pulled you closer to him, feeling him everywhere. He was too deep, he smelt too good, his arms wrapped around you possessively as he thrusted the last few times. He nestled against you, burying his head in your neck and breathing in deeply as he grabbed you tighter against him, moaning into your hair, his warm cum spilling into you. You eventually relaxed into his tight grip, too tired to move. Rusty felt too good in your arms to move as well, his hand stroked your hair, you could feel his cum dribbling out of you. Rusty made no attempt to move, just stayed locking you in his arms. The rush was subsiding, and you both enjoyed each other’s silent company. You both felt it thought. The pull towards one another. You could hear his mind turning over like cogs, both coming to another decision. It was another night spent with the wrong person. Another night spent with each other, but now he was your arms, feeling far too intimate to be just sex.

You were the first to break the silence, “Rusty, I don’t want to go home, yet.” Your hand snaked in behind his neck, tilting it up so you could look at him.

“I don’t want too either.” His voice was soft, almost as though he didn’t want to admit it to himself.

You don’t know how long you stayed up there, embraced in each other’s arms, but you knew something had changed. There was no going back after this.

[fictionalreads]

This Was Never Meant to Be What It Feels Like (Part 3)

A/N: Heeeeeeey...How y'all doing?....I know it's been a couple weeks when I said days but a part of this just did not want to be written! Also, this one is a bit of a beast, just over 5,200 words. This is the final part of this lil mini series, I hope y'all enjoy and the conclusion is satisfying for you guys.

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Armando Aretas x Original Female Character

Fandom: Bad Boys Movies

Prompt: Mike gets a couple visits, Shay has some news and Armando makes a decision.

Warnings⚠️: Cussing, Mentions of bad parental relationships, uh.... I think that's it for this one.

Mike Lowrey was no stranger to being called into back rooms for an off the books meeting. What was unusual was the CBI agent waiting for him when last time he checked none of the cases he had been part of lately had anything to warrant federal attention. Well, besides the one with his son but he had been cleared almost a full year ago now and Julie had corroborated his story. Nah, this was something new.

“Officer Lowrey, I’m Agent Garrett with the California Bureau of Investigations. Please have a seat.” She was standing at her full height on the other side of the table while gesturing to one of two chairs in the room, the only one near him. He saw straight through her bullshit tactics to make him feel like she was in charge and had the upper hand.

“It’s Detective Lowrey and think I’ll stand. Now why don’t you cut the shit and tell me what the hell you want.” Her jaw tensed and he just barely managed to hold back a smirk. She wouldn’t get what she wanted by using the same perp tricks he had been using when she was still in diapers. You can’t bullshit the bullshitter.

Coming clean, she began, “I’ve been put in charge of running a task force out in LA, similar to your AMMO squad here. Our goal is to find and stop cartel drug from entering the country, maybe stop a few murders while we’re at it.”

So this was about Armando, just more recently than he thought. Damn son of his was definitely payback for the hell he raised when he was younger. If he was back on his shit, he might not be able to help him this time.

“Sounds like a good idea. I wish you luck,” he stated, feigning ignorance as to what this was really about.

“Your son Armando Aretas has many connections on the west coast that could be useful. Figured I could use him to knock down some of my open cases.”

She clearly had found out their connection, but he still wasn’t sure what she wanted from him. “I don’t know if you’ve been watching the news lately, but my son isn’t here in Miami. He’s been on the run for the better part of a year. I don’t know where he is.”

“You’re his father.” Agent Garrett takes the chair on her side of the table. “If anybody could find him, it’d be you. You’d know where to look right?” The flattery, the subtle leading questions to confirm what she believed and the sitting gave her away.

She was desperate.

If he had to guess, those open case files were all big cases that had her boss breathing down her neck. She’d probably been given an ultimatum with her job on the line and now she was desperate to do anything that would get her back on top, including working with a wanted man.

Mike sat. “What are the terms?”

“Terms?”

“What does Armando get in exchange for helping you?”

She looked at him in disbelief. “Terms are you don’t go to prison for aiding and abetting a murderer and he doesn’t get a bullet in his head immediately. Don’t know if you know this but cops aren’t a big hit in prison and I’m betting that’s especially true for you.”

“Don’t fucking insult me, please. Aiding and abetting implies I know where he is and I’m actively helping him. I’ve already told you I don’t know where he is. But like you said I’m your best shot at finding him. I’m also your best chance at not getting your men killed and losing him again. I’m not doing this shit without some assurances on his end. So I’ll ask again. What does he get for helping you?”

She shook her head. “You know when I came up with this whole thing, I did my my research on you. Figured I should know who I was getting into bed with. Everything I read told me you were one hell of a cop, always got your guy and made Miami just that much safer. Are you, this great cop, really going to bat for a murderer like him?”

That was where her approach was faulty. She was trying to appeal to his cop side, but he was a father first. “No, I, a father, am protecting my son.”

“I can offer him protective custody, knock some time off his sentence depending on how fruitful his tips are.” She offered lightly.

Too lightly. This was her throwaway offer, the one she knew was shit but was hoping he’d take anyway. So he called her bluff.

“He won’t come in for that. He had that deal with me already. All the shit that went down last year? The bodies dropped had to be put on someone and he got ‘em since he was a convicted felon, one that was alive and a part of the mess. Not to mention he ran off and became a fugitive. He’s looking at almost double what his sentence was when I arrested him. You’ll have to do better.”

Agent Garrett seemed to be debating with herself. She let out a heavy breath,”I’ve been authorized to grant him a special deal.”

Now they were getting somewhere.

“What kind of deal?”

“The kind that puts my ass on the line.”

Something about this whole interaction was bugging him. “Tell me something. Why are you willing to put your badge on the line for someone you clearly can’t stand?”

“I don’t trust Aretas. But this isn’t about me. Its about making my city safer. His intel could be the key to shutting down major operations. He has connections everywhere, and that’s what I care about. I’m not putting myself on the line for him, I’m doing it for my city.”

“You sure you’re not doing it for your bosses? They up yo ass about getting shit done?”

“I proposed using Aretas. They were against it. Said we were cleaning up just fine but I’m tired of cleaning up after the fact and only getting low level dealers. I want to cut this thing off at the head.”

“At the end of the day that’s my son. I need to know that somebody has his back. Why should I trust that that’s you?”

“Like I said this is my proposal. My bosses made it clear that if he fails I fail. He gives me the wrong intel, he leads us astray, he turns on us, I’m fired. I’m just as invested in his success because I have something to lose too.”

“What’s the offer?”

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

“Hi, I’m looking for Mike Lowrey?” Shay swallowed down the feeling of nausea, hoping it was just the nerves making her feel this way.

“He’s not in at the moment, but I’m his wife Christine. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Shay hesitates. Could she do anything? Hell she wasn’t sure what this Mike Lowrey could do for her either. She flew all the way to Miami, and for what? Some detective Armando had left the name of in case she needed help? This was a bad idea. She knew he was a cop, and after looking him up a supposedly good one, but how could she trust him when he socialized with a murderer? Ignoring her own dalliances with the man, she could only think about the fact that Detective Mike Lowrey had sworn to arrest people like Armando, not be someone they trusted.

She felt overwhelmed for the millionth time in the past month and a half and was debating just leaving when Christine offered, “why don’t you come in? Mike should be home soon and you can wait inside for him instead of in the heat.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the heat, Christine's sweet voice coupled with the endearing British accent or the way her face screamed warmth, but she found herself saying, “yeah. Yeah okay.”

Christine opened the door wider for her to enter and Shay marveled at the inside of the house as much as she had the outside. This guy was definitely a dirty cop. There was no way he was able to afford this on a detective’s salary. What the hell was she getting herself into?

“Please have a seat,” she gestured towards the couch.  It looked like it was more for the aesthetic than actual use but she was pleasantly surprised to find it very comfortable. “Would you like something to drink? I have water and that disgusting stuff my husband calls sweet tea,” Christine joked.

“Water is fine,” she replied with a smile. Shay watched as Christine stepped past a wall into what she assumes was the kitchen. The creeping sensation of nausea hit her once more. Digging in her purse and finding a ginger chew, she didn’t see Christine come back in the room with a bottle of water. Almost instantaneously she felt relief, so maybe it was all psychosomatic. Just her nerves going haywire.

“How far along are you?” Shay startled at the question.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.

“It’s okay. What makes you think I’m pregnant?”

“I saw the chew and just assumed.” 

She didn’t believe that for a second. “Some assumption based off just a ginger chew. What if I just like them?”

“Honestly the chew was just the cherry on top for my assumption. You hold yourself the same way my sister held herself when she was pregnant for the first time. A bit unsure, scared definitely, but ready for war all the same.”

Well, damn. She didn’t know she gave off that much with just how she stood.

Ignoring how unexpectedly open she felt, she answered Christine’s question from before.“Thirteen weeks.” Suddenly Shay realized how this could look, a random pregnant woman showing up looking for her husband and not telling her what she wants, so she quickly explained. “It’s not your husband’s!”

Christine laughed brightly, “Oh darling the thought never crossed my mind. Mike may have once been that guy, but he’s not anymore. He’s a good man.” Shay kept her doubts to herself.

“Christine? Who’s car is that out front?” The man she assumed to be Mike Lowrey was juggling a duffle bag and struggling to get his keys out of the door, not once looking in their direction.

Smirking like it was a game, Christine replied, “It’s a rental.”

“Why do we need a rental?” He finally looked up, noticing Shay in the room. She could see his guard go right back up.

“Mike, this is Shay. She was hoping to speak with you,” his wife explained to him.

“Do I know you?” He was blunt but not unkind with his words, something she hoped would continue in their conversation.

“Mike!” Christine admonished before turning to Shay with, “Please, excuse Mike. He can bring his interrogation tactics into other parts of his life sometimes.”

“It’s okay. If a random woman showed up saying she needed to speak to me, I’d probably question it too.” She was hoping her understanding would get her some traction and not immediately thrown out when he found out why she was here.

Mike still held caution in his face. “So…?” He left the obvious question unspoken, wondering who she was and why she was here in his home.

Shay paused. She wasn’t sure how to bring it up and didn’t want to say anything in front of his wife in case she truly had no clue her husband was a dirty cop. She may have been desperate enough to find this guy,  but she wasn’t going to be the one to ruin this poor woman’s marriage.

Luckily Christine picked up on her reluctance to speak in front of an audience and excused herself. “I’m going to head upstairs for a moment, give you two some time to talk.”

While Shay relaxed, Mike tensed. Once Christine was gone, he questioned her. “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

“I was told if I ever needed anything, I should find you.”

Mike carefully focused his attention on sitting his duffle near the armchair, going to take a seat himself. He might not be looking directly at her anymore, but she knew all of his attention was on her as he spoke. “Who the fuck told you that? Better yet, why my house? Why not meet me in the station?”

Ignoring the second question, she replied, “Armando Aretas.”

Mike’s head snapped back to her. She was almost concerned for his neck with how fast he moved.

Continuing at his silence she said, “I figured you wouldn’t want to discuss him at work.”

“What about him?”

“He was in LA a few months ago.”

He first whispered to himself, “Dumbass don’t listen.” Then he spoke louder, clearly to her this time, “What does this have to do with you and why you’re here?”

She wasn’t sure where to start. How does one tell a dirty cop working for one’s murderer baby daddy that you need him to tell said baby daddy you were pregnant? “We were…together. I’m pregnant now.” She hoped he would catch on without her spelling it out but he didn’t.

Instead, Mike blinked. “What?” A million unidentifiable emotions ran over his face before he carefully shut it down, facing her with no emotion at all now.

“I am with child, in the family way, carrying a bun in the oven, whatever you want to call it.” There was still no response from him so she continued her rant, “look I’m not asking for him to come back or pay for anything. I’m fully prepared to take care of this kid myself, but not even trying to tell him was weighing on my conscience. So I figured if I found you like he said, you could pass on the message for me. I just need to be able to know I did everything I could to let him know.”

She had prepared for a lot of responses to her plea. Anger on Armando’s behalf, a dismissal, hell even laughter at her audacity, but his next words were ones she somehow missed in her spiral. “I’m not in contact with him.”

Shay tried not to be hurt at his response, not for herself, but for her baby. Okay, well a little bit for herself. She was in love with the man-yes, still- and knowing he truly didn’t leave a way to contact him again crushed the little bit of hope his note had left behind. Why would he send her to Mike if it wasn’t a way to get in touch with him? “So why would he tell me to find you?”

A pause.

“Armando’s my son.”

The statement was so far from what she was expecting to hear that she paused. “Wait so you don’t…you don’t work for him? With him? Whatever.”

Mike laughed loudly, “nah, I don’t work in that world. I stand by the badge.”

“So how did he…?” She trailed off, confused.

“Look our situation is…complicated, but if he sent you in my direction I’m gonna help you in any way I can. I mean, I’d love to get to know you and be in my grandchild’s life if you’ll let me.” His words were reminiscent of the night she had asked Armando about his family. He too had called his relationship with his father complicated.

Despite the unknown of it all, his offer was partly the reason she had found Mike. A family for her child, something she never really had. “Yeah. Yeah I’d like that.” It may not be exactly what she was looking for, but she would take what she could get. At least her baby would have some connection to their father’s side of the family. But she still had a question, one that had no answer now that her assumptions were corrected.

“So if you aren’t dirty, how do you afford living like this?”

Mike let out a laugh louder than the one from before. “I’m a trust fund kid. Never really had to work but all I’ve ever wanted was to be a cop.”

“Sounds like one hell of a trust fund,” she scoffed.

Turning serious he impressed, “One that continues to grow from a few investments made along the way. This kid will have that same freedom. They’ll be able to do whatever they want in life and never have to worry about money.”

That statement alone almost made her cry. She didn’t have much growing up, wondering if she and her mother would even be able to eat everyday. When she had found out she was pregnant, despite making more money than her mother did she found herself worrying her child would have those same experiences.

She may not have Armando, a partner she’d hoped to have, but he had made sure she had everything she needed.

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Habitual but flexible.

That was Armando’s motto. Habitual in the precautions he took but flexible enough everywhere else to not create patterns. Patterns were how you got caught, and Armando refused to be put in another cage. He always double checked his locks when he left his place, checked his surroundings before leaving and arriving at his place so as not to run into his neighbors. The less people who could identify him the better.

Which is why seeing his door wide open as he turned onto his street was so unsettling.

Normally he would just leave town, dump this alias and start over with another elsewhere, but there were a few things he didn’t want to part with. Upon his first return to Mexico, he had managed to find his mother’s emergency stash and in it was a photo of the two of them before he was forced out of the prison when he turned six. Despite his conflicted feelings on his mother’s choices and the lies she told him, he still loved her and this was all he had left of her.

If she were around she’d chastise his sentimentality.

He also had a letter his father had written him when he left Miami that he kept because even with the complexity of their relationship, he still wished he’d had the opportunity to get to know him. He wished he could have done things differently. That letter may be his only chance to know his father, even a little bit.

The last thing was a photo of Shay. He had taken it one morning before he left on a polaroid camera she had lying around. The sun had been rising and he remembered wishing what they had could be real, that he could stay in bed and wake up with her instead of having to run out and lie all the time. It was the only thing he had left of the only relationship he’d ever have again.

So he weighed his options. Either he went in and fought whoever was there, grabbed his things and hopefully made it out in time to not get caught, or he left now and hoped whoever it was left without calling for backup so he could get his things before leaving town. He either risked his freedom or he risked losing the only items that reminded him of his humanity forever.

He pulled his gun and carefully made his way into the apartment he’d called home for a couple weeks.

“Don’t shoot, it’s just me.”

Armando relaxed, but kept his gun in his hand. “What are you doing here Detective?” His tone was snippy, as though his father speaking to him was a bother. He knew that wasn’t true, but it was like he couldn’t help the animosity that came out when he spoke to his father. No matter how much he’d love to try with the man, he’d just get so angry about it all that it came out confrontational.

“What? A man can’t see his son?” Mike didn’t rise to the obvious bait of his tone, instead trying to lighten the mood with a tease.

Armando simply raised an eyebrow at the deflection. “Not when that man is a decorated detective and his son is a fugitive,” he coldly stated. He needed to know what Mike wanted so he could get on with his life. Who knows how many eyes are on the man, he was risking Armando’s freedom, not that he seemed to care. Irritated at the lack of concern for him, he accused, “you risked the badge once just to let me go, you won’t risk it again, not even for me. It means too much to you.” I don’t mean enough to you went unsaid but not unheard.

“Armando I’d risk everything for you.” The fight left Mike, and he sighed, finding a seat on the edge of the bed. “You’re my son and I know I’m not the best at showing it, but that shit means something to me. Our relationship means something to me. I didn’t have the best relationship with my father so I told myself I wouldn’t have kids cause I didn’t want to repeat the cycle. But then I found out about you. And despite the fact that circumstances made it so it isn’t easy, I still don’t want the cycle to be repeated. I love you man. I’ll do whatever you need me to, to prove that to you. Including walking away if you say no to my proposal.”

There it was. The real reason he was here now, he needed something like always. Armando put his gun away in exasperation. He was so tired of just being used that he couldn’t help but get a jab in. “Whatever man. This don’t mean shit to you. It’s all transactional for you, I’m good enough to help you get what you want and that’s why you come around. So what is it this time?”

“Is that what you think? That I don’t care about you?” What the hell else was he supposed to think?

“If you did, you would have come to see me in prison without needing my help on a case.” He argued before quietly following up with, “I would have been enough of a reason to visit.” He hated when this stupid hurt boy routine flared up. He looked weak, like una puta.

Mike stood and stepped close to Armando. Refusing to back down, Armando met his stare head on, ignoring the way his throat was getting tight and tears were pooling in his eyes. “Armando I never needed you on those cases. I knew that if I could get intel from you and put you down on paper, it would help you out. I was trying to help.” He blinked and a single tear made its way down his face. It was too much now and he had to look away.

Mike placed a hand on his shoulder, continuing, “I love you. Nothing is more real than that. If I had known you would take my help as me using you, I never would’ve asked for your help.”

Facing his father once more, Armando spoke lowly, “Si lo hubieras sabido, ¿te habría importado?” He didn’t explain what he meant, knowing his father understood what he was asking.

“Nada me hubiera importado más.” Mike asserted.

He nodded, finally having an answer to the question that had been burning inside him. He focused on the reason Mike was in front of him, not the emotions his answer stirred in him. “What’s the proposal?” He asked much more calmly this time around.

“LAPD is starting up a team like AMMO. They were hoping to recruit you to be a part of it, use your knowledge to help stop cartel drugs from entering the states.”

“And go back in a cage? No I’m good.” He shook his head, a clear no coming from him.

“You wouldn’t be arrested again, you’d be put up in an apartment. Free to walk the city after an initial probationary period of just work and home. After that, there would be twenty-four hour surveillance, random drug tests and check-ins. Eventually you would become a private citizen.”

It sounded like a trap. “If I don’t give them what they want I get arrested right?”

“Yeah, but I have all the faith you’ll be great at it. Plus I made sure it was as ironclad for you as possible.”

“Why would I agree to this? Sounds like a lot could go wrong and land me back in prison. If that happens I’m never getting out again.”

“You aren’t the killer your mother made you into. You only did any of it because she fueled you with rage and ideas of revenge before she pointed you at a target. If you were really a killer, you would’ve killed me anyway. You live by a code, and only do what’s necessary. No more, no less.”

Sometimes when he was feeling really low he’d think about what his life would have been like if he’d had a normal life. Would he have chosen violence anyway? He’d like to think he’d hav e chosen to protect. Maybe be a firefighter or an EMT cause he was still an adrenaline junkie, but maybe he wouldn’t have to hurt anybody. If his father was saying the same thing he thought, then maybe he could believe it to be true. Before he could think on it, his father spoke once more, shifting his whole world.

“Besides, Shay’s pregnant. We not giving another generation of Lowrey these bullshit daddy issues.”

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Six Months Later

“Marcus we ain’t got time for that shit.”

“I just asked the man a question!”

“No, you used the question as a cover to try and buy some damn skittles.”

“Oh so now you the skittle police? I thought we worked narcotics?”

“Yo ass ain’t supposed to have that shit and you know it. Don’t try to make it out like I’m the one that’s going overboard.”

“Aye Mike what would they call the skittle department? The rainbow division? Don’t worry everybody! Mike Lowry is working the rainbow!”

“That’s homophobic.”

“It’s the slogan! What else would it be called Mike?”

“Why the fuck are you here?”

“Man fuck you-“

“Your presence really wasn’t needed-“

“I’m just trying to be a good friend-“

“This is a moment for my family-“

“And now I’m not family to you?!”

“You called my family fucked up remember?”

“Yo son was tryna kill us and his mama was gonna let us burn in a fire!”

“Are you pendejos done?”

“Mike! That mean assholes right?”

“Yeah he just called us assholes. But Imma let it slide cause he got to be high on that new father shit to call me an asshole.”

“Nah I just think he don’t respect you. That’s what you get for not raising him. My boys would never.”

“Marcus!”

Shay knew this could devolve again if she didn’t get their attention. “Guys! Do you want to meet her?”

The men focused their attention on the baby Shay was holding against her chest. Marcus visibly melted at the sight, Mike simply softening his shoulders with a small smile. 

Armando joined Shay, leaning on the bed using a finger to trace down their daughter’s arm. When he spoke, he kept his eyes on his daughter. “This is Amada Rose Lowrey.”

“Lowrey?”Mike coughed.

Armando shrugged. “I wasn’t actually an Aretas, I was supposed to be a Lowrey. Figured she and I could claim our real family name.”

Mike nodded. “That’s cool man. Real cool,” he choked out.

“Awe Mike,” Marcus cried.

“Mm-mm Marcus. Stop it right now.”

“But Mike he’s taking your last name!”

Ignoring his bumbling partner, Mike walks over to Shay, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “How you doing Mama?”

“Extremely sore, but happy.”

“Well you did good, she’s beautiful.”

“You wanna hold her?”

Knowing his father’s aversion to holding babies, he goads hims, “Yeah Papa, wanna hold her?”

Surprising them all, he said, “You know what? I will.”

Shay handed her daughter over to Mike, making sure he supported her head correctly.

Armando joined Shay on the bed and wrapped her in his arms now that she wasn’t holding the baby. He simply watched his father holding and whispering to his baby girl with fond eyes, knowing his daughter would know nothing but love and presence from the man. They would have a real relationship right from the start. He and Mike themselves had been working on things, talking through the lies and anger and getting to a better place.

“How’s work? They give you any time off?” Marcus asked him.

In the end there hadn’t been a choice. He was going to be present in his child’s life, no matter what and sneaking into LA would just get riskier every time he did it. If he didn’t get caught just trying to get to his family, he would’ve gotten caught because if how much he would’ve been there to see them. And he’d be damned if he was raising his child from behind bars so he took Agent Garrett up on her offer.

He turned to face his uncle, replying, “Good, we wrapped a case a day before Shay went into labor. I’ll have about a couple weeks at home with the girls before I’m expected back.” 

It had somewhat surprised him how seriously Marcus had taken to being his uncle. The man was supportive of his new role with the LAPD and called almost as often as his father did, checking in and making sure he was being safe. Seeing him at the hospital now wasn’t a shock at all.

“I’m just glad they gave him any time at all,” Shay interrupted. As his employment with the LAPD wasn’t under normal circumstances, he wasn’t sure if they’d grant him time at home with his girls. Agent Garrett had stuck her neck out for him once again and gotten him twelve days exactly.

Armando leaned down and kissed her, forever grateful for the woman who stood by his side despite his past. She had lost a couple friends when they found out who he was, the ones that stayed had definitely judged her and never truly came around to him as a person. She never wavered though, taking it all with grace and holding his hand as they planed for their future. He couldn’t wait to ask her to marry him.

Amada let out a cry, disrupting his internal debate on the pros and cons of asking her right that moment. He knew it probably meant she was hungry again, so he shifted his hold on Shay so she could get the b baby again and feed her.

“I think that’s a cry for mommy,” Mike chimed as he passed the baby back.

“Yeah Mike you ain’t got the right equipment,” Marcus tossed out.

Mike turned to Marcus incredulously. “Now why would you say some dumb shit like that?”

“You don’t!”

Armando turned his attention from the bickering men, whispering to his little family, “Here they go.”

Honestly, though? He wouldn’t trade his family for nothing.

A/N: Don't forget to leave a comment or reblog/like! What did we think? I have a few other ideas in mind for Armando but I'm not sure how they'll play out, so I'm CAUTIOUSLY open to prompt from you guys for drabbles. Please keep in mind that I can't do smut.😅

Translations:

Una Puta - A bitch

Si lo hubieras sabido, ¿te habría importado? - If you had known, would you have cared?

Nada me hubiera importado más. -Nothing would have mattered to me more.

Pendejos - Assholes

Taglist:

@yeahnohoneybye @bootlegroach @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful

[mrslankyman]

Cold as Diamonds

Fanfic for my friend, idk what she sees in him 🙄

Montague (fortnite) x reader

Warning: slight smut

This was the task. Make it to Grand Glaciers and steal Montague's diamond necklace. Which sounded easier in Jonseys head.

For you how ever it would prove to be an unsuccessful mission. With an interesting out come.

You made it over the snow. Grimacing at Jonseys idea of an entrance. You weren’t a well known member of the under ground. You mainly did your work behind a mask. Covering your face. Now you were out without it.

The goal was to ask for help. Montague was hostile you knew that. This was a risk. Get caught and you could end up like Peely.. or worse.

So you made your way down the snowy landscape to the door. A few henchman swatted around. Around you questions. You gave them your best act. Crying and stating you needed somewhere to stay. After all the rich people on the map needed to protect the people. Or else they slip and lose power.

They reluctantly agreed and let you inside. The mansion was nice. A large stair case in the center of the first room. Leading up both ways to the second floor.

“Montague will see you soon.” One of the henchman said watching you as you took a seat on one of the many couches. Just looking around at the books on the many shelves around you.

You mentally took note of any escape routes. Or any ways to get back inside if this went well.

It had been a few minutes. Mind you perhaps an hour. Foot steps came behind you. A throat cleared and a French accent hit your ears.

“Hello.” A simple greeting was given. You turned around. Your eyes took in the man before you. Maybe you’d seen his profile on Hopes computer. Maybe you’d see his file I.D photo but damn.. he looked better in person.

The scar on his eye made him look even more intimidating. The large diamond necklace that laid on his neck was what you came here for.

“Hello.” You stood up quickly giving a weak smile. Playing into the act.

“You need a place to stay I hear? Or help. You have come to the right place.” He smiles but it didn’t seem friendly. It seemed sinister. Like he knew something. But what?

“Yes.. please I need a place to stay.” You agreed eagerly and smiled hopefully. He nodded and snapped his fingers. One of the henchman walking over. “I want you to set up the room beside mine for her. Make it cozy.” He ordered giving the guy some kind of look. He nodded in understanding and hurried off up the stairs.

“Come on. Let’s go get you some dinner.” He cooed in your ear. Was he flirting? Or trying to come off as polite.. the best way you’d assume these rich ass holes could.

You followed him down to the dinning room. It was as you suspected. Grand a large. With a huge table. Despite that he sat beside you at one of the side chairs. Offering you any food you’d like.

A cook would come out and server you both. Laying down the dishes. He thanked them and shooed them off. You noticed he wasn’t carrying his gun you’d always see him with in photos. Interesting. Maybe he had his guard down.

“So, where do you come from?” His voice was low and his accent was giving off a sort of.. vibe. His eyes would land on you as you ate. “Pleasant Plaza.. I had no clue how I got over here. First thing I remember was being in a car and then landing in the snow.” Your story wasn’t a lie. Jonsey set it up like that. Making sure any of the cameras here saw a car and you getting thrown out just a little ways off.

“How terrible.” His hand laid on your thigh with a sympathetic look on his face. Was his accent always this seductive? “I’ll take care of you.” He smiled and leaned closer. The diamond around his neck glistening in the light. His eyes looking deep in mine.

“I’ll give you a gift.” He smiled and got up. He walked out somewhere and came back. Holding a rock. He sat down and smiled. “See this?” He looked at the rock then you. A smirk on his face “yeah..?” You answered confused. He covered the rock with his hand and squeezed. Opening his palm, showing a diamond sitting there now. No rock in sight.

“For you, mon amour.” He bit his bottom lip. He was definitely being seductive. Your heart skipped a beat slightly. Your face flushed. What was happening? He was the enemy.. but he was really attractive.

“Come come, I’ll show you your room.” He slid the diamond into your hand. Giving a quick smile before heading down the hall. You followed quickly not wanting to get lost inside the mansion. It be embarrassing telling Jonsey you couldn’t succeed in the mission because you had gotten lost.

He opened a room door and inside made you gasp. You had never seen such a decorated and suffocated room. You turned to look at Montague who had already made his way over to the bed. “I hope you don’t mind, the sheets aren’t the.. most girly.” He chuckled to him self, they were a deep navy blue.

“It doesn’t really matter.” You shrugged and sat down on the edge. This mission could last 1-2 days. If you aren’t back by 3 Jonsey was sure to send in people.

You almost felt bad. You had to take all these people down. It was what was best but.. it be such a waste of a handsome face. He sat down beside you. Letting himself relax a little. “You can stay as long as you like.” His voice was low again. The privacy of the room made your heart beat faster. He was definitely a charmer that was for sure.

“Thank you.” Your voice was soft and lowered to the same tone as his. He leaned in closer. His eyes having this alluring affect on you. “I don’t think I’ve seen someone as beautiful as you in a long time.. I don’t go out much. With all the threats I get.” He slid his hand ontop of yours. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Do you think I’m handsome, ma chérie?” His lips were so close to yours.

You hesitated. Do you just go for it? Perhaps it’ll confuse him. Enough for you to succeed in the mission.

You leaned in and let his lips touch yours. His being cold yet smooth. Your lips were warm and chapped. Contrasting his. He groaned and pulled you closer. You let out a slight moan letting him push you down on the bed. He pulled away and smirked down at you.

You put your hand on his cheek and smiled. His face flushed and he kisses you again. You closed your eyes and let it happen. He grew tired of his coat restraining his arms. Sliding it off and letting it fall to the floor.

His gloved hands gripped your hips. He smirked as you unbuttoned his vest. Taking it off and leaving him in his black dress shirt and pants.

His diamond necklace still hung at his neck. He loomed over you a playful smile on his face. “Didn’t suspect this.” He leaned down and kissed your cheek. “Nor did I.” You answered honestly.

Part of you knew this would help the mission. Another part of you just wanted to keep going out of selfishness. Montague is very.. attractive. It’s not like this wasn’t what you wanted.

Especially how he kissed you and went down to your neck. He didn’t even know your name but his sweet words like darling, love, and sunshine we’re enough for you.

Things escalated and you laid between his legs on the bed. He smirked down at you as you slid onto his lap. Grinding slowly. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Letting him self enjoy this.

A plan popped up in your head. As you grinned into him you leaned closer. He fell into a hazy feeling. Not having full thought.

As soon as he was too far into bliss you leaned even closer. Using one hand to you grabbed his necklace. You had already found an escape route in the room: get the necklace and jump out the window. There wasn’t that far of a drop. You’d make it out and head to the rail road. Hope had secret passages around.

Once your hand went to his necklace his eyes flung open. He grabbed your hand. A smirk on his face. Your eyes widened and your thoughts froze.

“I knew you were up to something.” his voice seethed. You glared at him your demeanor changing quickly. You squeezed his dick he groaned in pain and you ripped off his necklace. You got off the bed and ran to the window.

Montague struggled to get off the bed. Half embarrassed he’d get caught like this. He should’ve known you were one of those under ground agents. He couldn’t lie you did attract him. Even now you still did. But he wouldn’t let you tell the tale of how embarrassing you got his necklace.

His cold hands grabbed your shoulders and spun you around before you could leave. You gripped the necklace.

You struggled against him before he slammed you against the wall. His hand gripping your throat.

“You little bitch. I knew you were up to something.” He shoved you against the wall harder. Your eyes widened. His were icy cold. His brows furrowed and hands soaking the breath out of you. His gloved hands didn’t make it easier for you to get out of his grip.

“Let me go!” You struggled. Dropping his necklace. He grabbed it and laughed. “I’m gonna teach you a lesson.” *he leaned closer his eyes growing even more sinister.

He gripped his necklace hoping the power still worked. He threw you against the wall again. Shards of diamonds bursting through the wall. You stared at them. They were sharp and sparkled in the room light. You soon turned back to him. You could feel your self slowly growing colder. What was he doing?

You looked down. Your skin on your neck around his hands were growing blue. Crystal like diamond. Was he turning you into diamond?

“Montague! Wait- I’ll do anything!” You squirmed. He laughed and let go of you. It was too late. The spot he had touched would always be diamond. A reminder of his touch.

“Oh I have a good plan for you. I think your friend Peely will love to have some company.” He flew his hands down at your feet. Diamonds bursting through the floor. Your feet turning to diamond. You fell off.

A shard of diamond piercing you through the back.

“Tell Jonsey he’s never gonna see his friend again.” Those we’re the last words you heard before the icy cold feeling of the diamond coursed through your body.

[swtnrcmnt]

୨୧ — jj’s confession; s.r (2)

very very high in demand and part 1 is about to hit 1k notes so here u go :))))

warnings: angst, really sad lol, but happy ending ! part one is here

it had been a few days since you and spencer had stopped talking. despite working and living together, the silent treatment had been going strong. you hadn’t really talked to jj either other than giving her a simple nod on a case or a nasty look here and there, though she had been overall avoiding you.

sitting at your desk, doing paperwork, garcia came over to you while staring at spencer the whole time. “hey, um could you come with me for a second i need to tell you something.”

“uh, sure.” putting the files away, you followed her to her little office where she shut the door behind you.

“don’t tell spencer i told you this, but he’s really sorry, y/n. every day since i told you what happened he’s come to me almost crying saying how he doesn’t know what to do and he wants to fix the problem. please just talk to him.” she pleaded, holding onto your arm

“i don’t know penelope.” you sighed, sitting on her chair. “please please please he’s like a sad little lost puppy without you. you don’t have to make everything right all at once but just talk to him.”

“how am i supposed to talk to him though. how are we supposed to make it right again i can’t just excuse him saying he doesn’t know who to choose when we’ve been married for years? there’s no way i could just overlook it.”

“and i get that and you have every reason to be upset. but the silent treatment is just killing the team.” she looked down at you, grabbing your hands “pretty please?” you sighed, agreeing to talk to him.

grabbing your coat and bag, you walked back to spencer’s desk, not making any eye contact with him. “grab your stuff, let’s go.” he immediately followed right behind you.

once you got outside the building, and into your car you headed to a park. the one he had taken you to the night he proposed.

sitting on the bench, you looked up at him. “sit down.”

“i miss you.” was all he said. you could see him looking over at you through the corner of your eye, but all you did was look down.

“where do we go from here, spencer? help me figure this out because i have no idea what to do.” finally looking over at him you could tell he hadn’t been sleeping well since he had willingly taken the couch.

“i’m not sure. but i know i have explaining to do.” he sighed, not knowing exactly where to start. “you know when i said that the feelings were only there until you came into my life? that part was true. and when i said i didn’t know who to choose? that part was true too. but only because her whole confession resurfaced buried feelings that i thought i had gotten rid of since we got together. and i know trusting me is the last thing you’re able to do right now, but trust me when i say that when i proposed to you here in this park, and when we got married, and any of the millions of times when i said that i love you. she wasn’t a part of any of that. not even in the slightest.”

he was almost crying at this point, and you could tell the guilt of the whole situation was eating him alive. but that didn’t make anything better.

“i know, spencer. and i really really want to make us work, but i don’t know how i could just move on from this.” you said, looking over at him with tears in your eyes.

his heart dropped. “are you trying to say something?” you couldn’t bear to look at him anymore, the feeling being too painful. “i’m sorry.”

grabbing your hands, he looked over at you. "please. let's work through this. even if it means taking a short break from each other to figure things out, i can't lose you."

your heart breaks just looking at the state he's in. dark circles around his eyes from the lack of sleep, the tears swelling up in his eyes, and the desperation in his face for you to stay.

if you were being completely honest, you really didn't want to leave him, not just because you felt awful for him, but because you know how badly it would hurt you too. you don't think you could ever find a person who could even come close to the kind of person Spencer is. kind, caring, nice, funny, knows exactly what you like and dislike. he was unlike anybody else.

"how about we take some time to think then. i think we could both use that and then we can come to the decision." he looked grateful as ever. "yes, yes. a million times yes let's do that." he said, hugging you tighter than he ever has. "ok don't get too excited."

a few weeks had passed since you decided to take a break to think about where to go next with your relationship, you hadn't seen spencer much since then as he had been spending most of his time teaching and you went to move in with penelope temporarily. you gave spencer a call to let him know you wanted to meet up today at your shared home to talk.

"come in" he said while opening the door for you, he looked happier than usual which settled your nerves a bit more. "so, are we here to talk about our decision?" he asked, you nodded in response

sitting down on the couch together, he started rambling on about how he felt. "i know what i did was an asshole thing and i should have never said anything about anything and you're my wife and that's what i should have said when you asked me who to choose but to be honest there is no need to choose because the only person I have and will ever, ever need is you and forever only you. and i'm so sorry for everything that happened and I hope you feel the same way."

staring at him, you didn't give him an answer which made him nervous. "say something.. please." you just smiled at him

"well. it's going to take a lot of work to get back to where we were, and i hope you know my trust in you has gone down by a bit, but I talked to jj. and i came to the decision that i still want to be with you. because to be honest with you, i don't know how I could ever be with anyone else."

he looked you in the eye, with the biggest smile. "i love you, so so much. more than you'll ever know. it's always been you." he said, pulling you in for a hug and kissing the top of your head

"i love you more, spencer"

hahaha i hope u liked this >:)

i'm not sure how much i like this ending but oh well

@ceruleanrainblues @ssa-jet @fate-posts @lillyrob @sleepymadmess @sebastiansstanswhore @zendayaswrld101

[carpenterswife]

ALL MY GHOSTS (vi)

series masterlist

- summary: Your life is turned upside down when your ex-fiancé reveals his intentions with you. Jenny and Beau finally locate him, and don’t hesitate to bring him in for questioning. When you’re left alone in the house, you begin to search for an escape.

- word count: 2681

- warnings: Domestic abuse, inhumane treatment, abduction.

━━━━━━ ✿ ━━━━━━

Jaw set hard, Beau glared through the two-way mirror at the man on the other side. The file in his hand was crinkled and balled up, from the way his fists had curled into fists at the mere sight of the bastard.

Jack. The man who’d inflicted so much pain and misery on you, for so long. Beau didn’t know the exacts. He didn’t know what exactly he’d done to you, not like Jenny and Cassie knew.

But he knew enough that the fucker was lucky Beau hadn’t wrung his neck already. 

He’s been staring through the glass for up to 20 minutes later, oblivious to Jenny and Cassie. The two women were discussing what their best approach to this interrogation would be. Beau didn’t have time to plan it.

He just needed to find out where you were, and get you back.

Beau stepped away from the glare. “I’ll go in.” He announced, without any hesitation. He knew it was, very likely, a terrible idea — this case was far too personal and emotional for him; but he’d be damned if he sat back and did nothing.

Before either woman could argue, Beau had already entered the interrogation room, shutting the door behind him with a heavy slam.

Jack lifted his head and stared back at him. His glare was angry and dark, rattling his handcuffs against the table. “What is this shit?” He asked, unimpressed. The fact he seemed so… unbothered, acting as if he didn’t know what he’d done pissed Beau off even more. His eyes never peeled away from the sheriff, as he sat opposite him at the steel table.

His movements were stiff, setting down a file. “Y/N L/N.” Was all he said. But it got his point across.

His brows rose, staring back at Beau, in silent disbelief. Then, he just laughed. “You’re fucking with me?” Beau stared back, his jaw set hard and his eyes narrowed. Jack laughed again, apparently finding this whole thing funny. Oh, if only Beau could get away with murder. “Y/N L/N? I haven’t seen her since she vanished into the night and left her engagement ring on the table.”

The bastard deserved worse than that, in Beau’s opinion.

He hummed, unconvinced by Jack’s words. He knew he’d done this. Beau flipped open his file. He didn’t need to. He’d read through it enough times that every word was memorised. It was mostly for show. “You abused her.” He said bluntly.

That earned a tick of Jack’s jaw, before he scoffed. “Abused her?” He sat back, his movement restricted by the short cuffs tying him to the table. “I never abused her. I lost my temper and yelled. But I never hit her.”

“She says differently.” Beau said bluntly. He had no time for bullshit. He needed to find you. Now.

The man’s face changed. The smallest of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lip, and then it was gone. If Beau hadn’t been staring so fiercely at Jack, he wouldn’t have even send it. “Oh.” He chuckled lowly. “You know her? She’s a pretty one, ain’t she?” Beau’s glare hardened. “Got a nice set of tits on her.”

Beau bit his tongue to prevent himself from losing his cool. How fucking dare he. How dare he talk about you like that. He cleared his throat, keeping his rage settled in his stomach, and looked back down at the file in front of him, sick of seeing Jack’s face. “Y/N went missin’ three days ago.”

He stared blankly. “Why would I know fuck all about that?”

“In the days leadin’ up to her disappearance, she was receivin’ mysterious calls an’ strange gifts. All of which were traced back t’you.” Beau set his arms on the table and leant forward, eyes hard and unforgiving. “D’you wanna explain that one t’ me?”

Jack chuckled, unamused by Beau’s accusation. “The flowers?” He made a ‘pfttt’ noise, shaking his head. “It was the anniversary of her father’s death. I was just being nice.”

Beau still wasn’t convinced. “An’ the calls?”

“Checking up on her.” Jack was lying through his teeth. Beau was sure of it. He just needed to prove it. “I was worried. I still love her.”

He ran his tongue across his top teeth, containing his bubbling fury. He was about to blow his lid. “Y’see.” He murmured, a clear threat in his words. “Y/N is my deputy. An’ my friend. This is personal. I will find her. And you will spend the rest of your pathetic life, behind bars.”

Jack’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t say anything. The way his eyes sharpened gave Beau glee. He was getting to him. He was digging his way through Jack’s facade and revealing the real, disgusting man behind it.

“You can tell me where you’re hidin’ her, an’ maybe the judge will be more lenient with you.” Beau’s voice didn’t waver. His voice was sharp, intended to wound, intended to land on its intended mark. “Or, we’ll find her anyway, an’ you’ll get life.”

He flinched. Bullseye. “Fuck you, man.” He spat. “I didn’t touch the bitch. Why would I waste my time on her? She’s not worth shit.” Hello, the true Jack.

Beau bit back his smirk, watching his true colours come to life. “We’ll do it the hard way, then.” He stood up, staring down at Jack. His figure was intimidating, looming over the man stuck in his chair.

The glare sent to him did nothing but make him grin. He was winning this battle. He would find you. And this asshole would go to jail for everything he did to you. “The fuck do you care so much? You fucking her?” Jack practically snarled. “Let me tell ya — she’s good with her mouth, that one. Looks real pretty on her knees.”

The sheriff tensed.

He was going to kill this fucking dickhead.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Jenny stepped in. She gave Beau a meaningful look, warning him away from tackling Jack and beating him to a pulp right here. She opened the door wider; a silent message that it was time to leave, before things escalated.

As much as Beau wanted to, he knew it would fuck up their case.

So, he settled on glaring dangerously at Jack, and storming out.

He couldn’t decide who’d won that one.

━━━━━━ ✿ ━━━━━━

You’d been stuck in this damn room by yourself for two days now. Jack hadn’t come back — and there’d been no noise in the house. You could only hope that meant Beau had arrested him.

It gave you another day to plan your escape, then actually do it, and run as far as you could. God, you hoped you were still in Helena. You hadn’t seen the outside since he’d taken you.

Maybe it wasn’t Beau who arrested him. Maybe Jack had taken you to a different state. How long had you been out for before you woke up the first time? Where were you? Were you even in the USA? What if he took you into Canada?

Trying to not spiral, you started to come out with a plan. You yanked on your chain experimentally, watching it strain as the metal holding it to the wall prohibited it from moving further. You put both hands on the chain, and pulled harder. Nothing.

Okay, new plan.

Foot planted on the wall, you tugged, putting your entire weight into yanking on the chain. Your teeth ground together in exertion, leaning backwards as you pulled and pulled and pulled. You yelped as there was a crack, and suddenly more slack in the chain, making your back hit the carpet.

Breath ragged, you hurriedly crawled towards the wall, investigating the damage you’d done, hopeful. The loop holding the chain to the wall had bent out of shape. Not enough to release you fully, but enough to give you a few more inches of moving space.

That was good.

That meant, with enough effort, you’d be able to free yourself fully.

You could only hope Jack didn’t return soon.

━━━━━━ ✿ ━━━━━━

“Woah, woah, woah—“ The moment Beau stepped into the station on day five, his heart plummeted. That familiar rage bubbled deep in his gut, taking three long strides towards the two figures. “The fuck are y’doing?” He harshly grabbed the deputy’s arm, who was leading Jack towards the front desk.

The deputies were far too used to Beau’s behaviour these days, so the man didn’t even flinch when the sheriff yanked his arm. “72 hours are up, Beau.” The deputy said apologetically. Beau’s jaw clenched. “His lawyer demanded we release him. We don’t have enough evidence to hold him for longer.”

“The fuck we don’t.” He argued.

Jack grinned smugly. God, he was winning. How did this turn around so fast? Beau had the upper hand at one point. “I was just being a good man, Sheriff Arlen. Sending flowers and calling someone ain’t a crime, is it?” He was boasting, the fucker.

If Beau were a worse man, he’d break his nose right here.

His eyes flicked back to the deputy. “He abducted and abused Y/N.”

The deputy nodded, solemn. “I agree.” Beau narrowed his eyes, frustrated. The deputy’s disdain for Jack was clear as he glanced at the now-free man. “But we can’t legally hold him, Beau. I wish we could… but I don’t think you want a lawsuit.”

He was right; Beau knew he was. Of course he was. They’d hit the 72 hour mark, which meant they had to release him, unless they could place him at the crime scene. Which, right now, they couldn’t. If they kept him here, they’d be facing a potential lawsuit for unlawful detainment. Which was something he did not need to deal with, ever.

With a sharp, reluctant nod, Beau stepped back. He couldn’t keep Jack here, as much as he wanted to. He glared at him, deadly. “I’ll get you.” He muttered to the man. “Y’hear me? You’re goin’ down for this.”

Jack just smirked. Only for Beau to see. He knew he’d won this one. He knew he had the upper hand over Beau right now. And he was so smug and cocky about it, it made Beau seethe.

Yeah, he was going to beat this guy’s ass when they finally charged him.

━━━━━━ ✿ ━━━━━━

Jack’s return to the house had put a dent in your plans. It meant you could no longer escape (easily, anyway). It also meant he’d gotten away with your abduction. When he’e returned, he’d yanked you from your prison, and shoved you into the kitchen, slamming down food in front of you and demanding you cook for him.

With the knowledge he could kill you at any moment, you went along with his demand.

This is what you’d become. A fucking live-in maid. As he threw you around and delivered harsh hits that bruised and marked your skin, he demanded you wait on him. You cooked. You cleaned. You made the house up. You did everything, as he sat on his ass and downed beer after damn beer. All with chains around your ankles.

Fucking asshole.

“Your boss is a stuck-up dick.” He announced suddenly, after finishing his second bottle of beer. You fetched him a third before he could raise a hand.

You scurried back to the food being prepared. “Beau?” You asked gently, afraid to set him off with the mention of another man. That was good. If it was Beau who’d arrested him, that meant you were still in Helena. Being in Helena meant it was him, Jenny and Cassie looking for you — which meant they wouldn’t rest until they had you home and safe.

It gave you a little bit of fresh air.

“Beau?” He echoed, his disdain clear as he spat out the name like poison. “You’re on first name basis with that dickwad?” Okay, he clearly didn’t like Beau. It amused you a bit. Beau had really pissed him off. Good on him.

You paused for a brief moment, hiding your amusement with ease. “He’s my friend, yes.” You spoke carefully and softly, head low as you sliced and dumped onions into a pan. The chains around your ankles were heavy, and tight enough that they’d already bruised your skin.

Layers of bruised covered your wrists and ankles from the heavy-duty chains, of which he never took off you. You wouldn’t be surprised if they’d cut into the skin, and your limbs were just numb from the tight vice-like grip the chains had around you.

There was a harsh, low laugh from Jack, not at all pleased with your reasoning. “Not anymore he’s not. That guys a fucking dickhead. I don’t want you talking with him.” He seethed.

Despite your annoyance and anger, you nodded. You knew better than that argue against his wishes. It only made things worse for you.

Jack huffed, clearly still not happy, despite your agreement. “You been telling people I abused you? He seemed insistent.”

“Beau?” Your brows furrowed, head cocking to the side. Beau wasn’t supposed to know about the abuse. But, clearly, now he did.

Jenny and Cassie must have told him. You didn’t blame them. You couldn’t. They’d likely pieced together the fact Jack did this, and their only option was to tell Beau the strength. You cringed as you thought about how angry he must have been.

Thank god you hadn’t been around for that.

“I didn’t tell Beau.” You said softly. You looked over your shoulder and gave Jack a forced smile. “Our other friends must have told him.” Your answers remained polite and short. You knew better than to speak out of turn around Jack. He liked you to only speak when spoken to.

“Fucking bitch. You been telling people?” He shot to his feet, hand clenched tightly around the neck of his beer bottle.

You sighed, and resigned yourself to a long and painful night.

━━━━━━ ✿ ━━━━━━

“Jack has got four owned properties in Montana.” Jenny announced to Beau. She set down four pieces of paper on his desk, accompanied with Cassie and Pop on either side of you.

It’d officially been seven days since you’d been taken (by Jack, they’d decided definitively). Three days since Jack has been released from their custody, and done god knows what to you.

Beau hummed and shifted the papers, skimming each. “East Helena, Marysville, Wolf Creek. And Helena.” He murmured the names thoughtfully, brows knitting together tightly. There was something about those names. The realisation came to him fast. “Those are all in Lewis and Clark. They’re our neighbouring communities.”

Jenny’s brows raised as she nodded. “Exactly.”

“He planned this.” Beau muttered. The realisation made him sick.

This bastard had been planning this for a long time. Long enough that he was able to buy four properties in and around Helena. If Beau didn’t already want to kill this guy, that would be have been the breaking point.

He clenched his jaw, his thoughts he going back to you. Scared, alone, and hurt. “He’s probably planning on moving her to one of these other places now.” He shifted the papers about again; a nervous habit. He wet his lips as he thought, picking up the papers. “She’s gotta be in Helena.”

Cassie nodded in agreement. “He was in town when you arrested him.” Beau glanced up at her as she pointed this out. Beau had bumped into him on the street, and immediately slapped cuffs on him. “The best plan is to search the property in Helena first. Yeah?”

“He probably took her there first, with the plan of moving her at a later date.” Jenny agreed. It was rational. Beau nodded; it was the best lead they had so far. “If we move quickly, we might be able to get there before he leaves town with her.”

Beau chucked the papers down. “No time to waste.” He stood up. “Let’s go get ‘er back.”

━━━━━━ ✿ ━━━━━━

a/n: please forgive me if there’s any errors — i am so tired. i did proof read this, but i may have missed something <3

taglist: @yvonneeeee @deans-spinster-witch @fanfic-n-tabulous @dwonfilm @foxyjwls007 @just-levyy @i-love-ptv @hobby27

[cryoculus]

— dream a little (dream of me) ⟢

you're a modern-day succubus just trying to get by, and your superior, mister zhongli is next on your hit-list. but every time you invade his dreams, he becomes someone else entirely…

★ FEATURING; zhongli x succubus!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 23.3k words

★ TAGS; modern au, office au, superior-subordinate relationship, angst, like SO MUCH angst, zhongli dreams abt his past life as rex lapis, smut

★ WARNINGS; graphic sexual content (minors dni), some depictions of violence (it was the archon war so), reader gets drunk at some point in the story and a co-worker exhibits unwanted interest, near-death experiences, mentions of pregnancy

★ NOTES; this was the longest thing i've ever written in one sitting TT wrote it for 3 days straight, and i'm honestly still proud of it even a year later! take note that this was loosely based off a manhwa i read in passing called sweet dream, so if the plot is a liiittle familiar to you, that's probably why!

★ HEADER ART CR; donaldakron on twt

★ SMUT TAGS; sex dreams, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, clothed sex, i-thought-i-was-gonna-lose-you-forever sex, riding, the perfect balance of sweet and dirty talk, creampie

“Miss? Are you alright?”

You blink out the spots in your eyes when you hear Ganyu call out to you in a worried tone. She’s standing awkwardly by the side of your cubicle when you finally snap out of it, and you receive the documents in her hands with a rushed apology.

“Sorry, I’ve been feeling under the weather lately,” you reason, signing whatever she needs to have signed before handing it back. “This is nothing, though. Anything else you need?”

She hesitates for a moment, as if gauging whether or not she should pry, before speaking her mind. “Um, if you’re having trouble falling asleep, I could recommend a shop that sells qingxin petal tea. It’s based in Feiyun Slope, and I always order my stress relieving herbs from there.”

Despite the weight settling across your eyelids, you manage to flash Ganyu a gentle smile, tearing a blank Post-It off the pad on your desk before giving it to her. “Could you write down the name of the store? I’ll make sure to check it out before I head home for the night.”

Ganyu visibly perks up. “O-Of course!”

When she slides the piece of paper back onto your desk, the secretary exchanges farewells with a curt nod – saying she has to pass over the files for Mister Zhongli’s perusal before anything else. If Ganyu notices the way your staged grin falters, she doesn’t say anything. But once you’re alone, you can only slink back into your chair with a contemplative look on your face. 

You aren’t going to check out the store that Ganyu recommended like you initially promised. After all, your kind has never responded much to any sort of human medicine. Whatever’s bothering you is only going to be resolved if you stop being stubborn and fed on time – something you only care to do once a month at most. 

Even after living your life as a succubus for almost twenty-four years, the idea of having to draw out your life force from… that still made you sick to your stomach. It’s bad enough that your strange constitution wouldn’t let you settle down and have normal relationships, but having to constantly find a source of nutrition is a pain in and of itself. 

Your body has quite the standard for the men you’re supposed to suck some sexual energy out of, too. When you indiscriminately pick some rando you saw on the street, you might not effectively absorb the energy you harvested if you aren’t invested enough.

Case in point: unless you try to sleep with someone you remotely care about in their dreams, you’re going to keep craving for a proper fix.

Last month, you had to terrorize the poor barista who’s been serving you coffee at that new café across the street. You thought he wouldn’t think much of it, since you had the inkling the guy was hitting on you every time you ordered. But lo and behold, mister charming, suave barista is actually quite timid when it goes down to it. Your sessions usually took an hour at most to complete and you wouldn’t have to harvest energy again for at least another month. But that guy? You could barely ask him to strip without having to deal with him stumbling out of his dream-bed out of sheer embarrassment. Took you three hours in that dreamscape just to get the bare minimum out of him. And that just goes to show that the people you meet aren’t always what they seem to be – yourself included.

As entertaining as that session turned out though, you couldn’t really make substantial progress with mister barista, which eventually led to your premature hunger pangs. You started feeling a bit off-kilter last week, but you made the mistake of listing it off as nothing but a seasonal flu or something. Once your co-workers caught wind of how exhausted you are at work, you knew it was that time of the month again.

You can always just make up for the minimal energy gain of harvesting from a complete stranger by invading multiple strangers’ dreams, but you still have some shred of dignity. Well, you could just settle with the men in your department, but those slobs are the last ones you’d ever consider sleeping with. But then again, your team is working on a big, end-of-year project that you can’t afford to slack off on, so you need to find this month’s match before your body shuts down completely – even if that means seducing your awful desk neighbor in his sleep.

“Hard at work again, I see.”

You startle at the sound of a deep-seated voice coming from behind you, whisking your chair around to see your boss showing you a kind smile. It isn’t unusual for Zhongli to do some rounds in the office, but –

“Ganyu was looking for you, sir,” you blurt out, trying not to focus on how his neatly pressed tie compliments his eyes. “She had me sign some documents for the project you asked me to oversee, and it seems like she was on her way to your office.”

He hums. “I see. I just made a quick trip to the pantry, but I’ve yet to figure out how one operates the machine they installed in the break room. That’s why I just asked my assistant to purchase a drink from the coffee shop down the street… Are you alright? You’re looking quite pale.”

“Yeah, I’ve never been better,” you lie, trying to force out those memories of too-timid-for-his-own-good barista out of your head. “I’ll make sure to follow up on my assigned report at the end of the week, sir.” 

Once again, your senses jolt to life when you feel a large, comforting palm settle on your aching shoulders, giving you a few pats. The sincerity in Zhongli’s eyes doesn’t fade, and you’re seriously wondering how he has it to be so encouraging all the time.

“Everyone deserves to rest when their bodies require it,” he says. “Don’t hesitate to file for sick leave if you’re unable to perform at your fullest because of health reasons. I didn’t overhaul the employee benefits clause in your contracts for nothing.”

Your face heats up at the thought of your boss being this considerate of your well-being. You’ve been working at Wangsheng Corporation for almost two years now, but employees have never been treated the way Zhongli treats them. It’s a miracle that he got transferred here last month – with his gentle voice and mindfulness of others. When he walked through the doors of your department that day, the last thing you expected was a compassionate superior, given that all those assholes in the corporate ladder only cared about money and none else. He was easily a breath of fresh air in the smog of Liyue Harbor, and you’re not about to complain.

“I best be on my way,” he tells you with a hint of remorse. “I’ll be attending a board meeting in thirty minutes. Once it’s been adjourned, you can come to me if you need anything.”

Come to him if you need anything…  

For some reason, his words ring inside your head longer than they have to. But before you can even get your bearings straight, your mind is suddenly plagued with images of your boss in a more sensual setting. 

You picture a Zhongli who’s free from the stifling confines of his suit – regardless of how dashing he looks in it, you always wondered what he would look like dressed down. You imagine him lying on his bed, golden eyes half-lidded as he beckons you closer; how his hot breath would make your skin tingle as he whispers all the lewd things he wishes to do with you – 

“Of course, sir,” you tell him in real life, mustering up a smile that’s enough to hide your own embarrassment. “Thank you for taking the time to stop by.”

Zhongli raises a hand to wave at you before sauntering off to his office, leaving you alone with lecherous thoughts and a growling stomach. But the moment the door clicks shut behind him, you come to a guilty conclusion.

Guess I already found this month’s target. 

The hardest part, you think, is falling asleep before feeding.

You’re still at odds with everything you had to do just to survive, so of course you’ll feel a bit queasy when you lay on your bed in preparation. Whether it’s that one cute barista or your attractive boss, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re nervous beyond belief. Navigating a person’s dreamscape is just as tricky as it sounds, and if you aren’t careful, the slightest mishap can lead to unwanted casualties. Worst case scenario: you might get trapped in the dream until the person you’re feeding off of wakes up. 

But you can trust your worrisome nature to keep that from happening. The only instance you’d ever get trapped in someone else’s dream is if you lose touch with your own existence within it. That’s why you tend to limit the degree of pleasure you feel in the dreamscape during your feedings. Orgasms are one of the many things that make people, succubi included, lose their grip on reality, so you make sure not to experience such a thing, no matter how tempting it could be at times. And while there are no explicit rules stating that your kind isn’t allowed to indulge in the desires of the flesh – let’s face it, you’re basically a sex demon – you’ve always been too afraid to lose yourself in something that isn’t even real.

You heave a deep sigh as you pull the covers up to your chest. It feels a bit humid lately, so you opted to wear a loose nightgown – one flimsy enough to hopefully tempt Zhongli in his dreams. In spite of the impeccable decorum he exhibits at work, surely he’s still just a man under all those layers of courteousness, right? Humans tend to be more unhinged during your feeding sessions (sans mister timid barista). If the Zhongli that regularly checks up on you at work would exercise more self-restraint, maybe he won’t be as gentlemanly once you hijack his dreams.

The plan is set in stone. Fall asleep, make your way into Zhongli’s head, have sex with him, and make a run for it. You’ve outlined the same plan of action during your previous feedings, so this shouldn’t be too much of a problem.

Still, a small part of you still feels the bite of guilt for intruding on your boss’ peaceful night like this. In what little time he’s spent at Wangsheng Corporation, you can already call him the best superior you’ve ever had, and choosing him as your sacrificial lamb makes it seem as if you have no sense of indebtedness to him. But at the end of the day, you’re just a baser creature with needs to tend to or else you can’t move forward as a fully functioning member of society. 

Surprisingly, you doze off much quicker than usual. This must be from the fatigue you accumulated over the past week. Well, that’s what you get for not feeding the moment you started to feel something was off. Either way, you’re en-route to your boss’ subconscious and you’re going to feel much better right after the trip.

The in-between that connects your dream to Zhongli’s looks just like everyone else’s – a dark, narrow corridor that opens up to a light at the end. You traverse the familiar path with bare feet, not so much in a rush despite how hungry you are. Whether it’s your hesitation to use your boss like this holding you back or something else entirely, you’re not very sure. But once you finally step into the light, you close your eyes and hold your breath.

When you come to, you find yourself inside a wide cavern – making your face scrunch up in confusion once your mind processes your surroundings. You expected to appear in a bedroom in his apartment, maybe. But as you glance around the barely illuminated cave, you realize that your timing is incredibly off since Zhongli must have been having a weird dream. It’s happened once before when the person you were supposed to feed on dreamt of living inside the latest superhero movie he saw. Maybe Zhongli watched a strange documentary before heading to bed. That totally sounds like something he’d do.

You decide to have a closer look, noticing that the only sources of light inside are the stone torches perched on the sides of the cavern. Your curiosity gets the better of you when you attempt to approach the flames. But that plan is immediately thwarted once you accidentally step on something solid underfoot. It breaks underneath your weight – the sound echoing deeper into the cave. 

You can’t feel any sort of breeze inside, which cements your assumption that the corridor leads to a dead end. Something tells you that you’ll cross paths with another soul if you press forward, but your instincts, however flimsy they might be inside a dream, insist that you go back. To just forget about trying to feed today and just try again tomorrow. Maybe Zhongli wouldn’t be dreaming about weird tunnels by then. None of this is real, but the dread that’s slowly festering in the pit of your stomach is too apparent to ignore.

But it’s as if your body isn’t your own at the moment. Instead of heeding your own sense of danger, your feet carry you further into the darkness – making your imaginary heart pound with both anticipation and fear in equal measure. 

Your hunch is proven right when you spot a lone figure at the end of the cavern – observing you from afar where he’s seated rather comfortably. He has one elbow perched on the armrest of his seat, the side of his face resting atop a closed fist. You’re unable to recognize who he is at first, but once you’ve crossed the threshold of the man’s vicinity, you feel a pang of surprise surge through your veins.

“Mister Zhongli...?” 

No matter how closely you looked, he's the spitting image of your boss. However, it dawns on you half a second later that he is not the kind-hearted man you've been working with for the past month. This one sits atop a throne of jagged rock, golden antlers sprouting beneath his hood as eyes of a deeper shade glower on with disdain. 

“I do not remember giving you permission to speak,” he says, voice reminding you of untamed tremors deep within the earth – resonating with every word. “You best know your place before I'm forced to remind you of it.”

Back in your bedroom, you awake with a start.

Your heart threatens to bust out of your own rib cage with how hard it pounds against it – as if it’s barely catching up to what you just witnessed and heard. You’ve never once pulled yourself out of a dream so quickly, but there’s just something about that version of Zhongli that sets off every code-red alarm inside your head. That isn’t someone you’re going to easily seduce with a see-through nightgown and a bat of your eyelashes. In fact, that man (was he even human?!) looked like he could kill you if he wanted. 

“What the fuck?” you mutter, throwing the covers off yourself as you watch your hands tremble in your lap. “Who the hell was that…?”

You don’t have the slightest clue why you’re so shaken up. You’ve seen weirder dreamscapes in the past, but for some reason, when you stepped inside Zhongli’s, everything looked so life-like. As if you were actually transported to a real location in this world. If you actively tried to recall the details, you could’ve sworn you felt the gravel on your feet and caught the archaic scent of stone in the air. But what could a strange-looking Zhongli be doing inside such a place? You knew better than to assume there was a rhyme and reason behind a person’s dreams, but –

The sound of your ringtone going off nearly scares the living daylights out of you before you cast a frantic stare at the nightstand. There, your phone vibrates in time with the obnoxious noise, and you force yourself to get a grip. It’s over. You managed to escape whatever harrowing fate you could have ended up with had you stayed in Zhongli’s dream for even a second longer. There’s no use mulling over it now, is there?

Without checking who was insane enough to call you at this hour, you speak. “H-Hello?” 

“Hello. I do have the right number, yes?”

It takes you a moment for your mind to register the voice at the end of the line – that smooth baritone that you’ll never get tired of hearing. Of course Zhongli’s going to ring you up out of nowhere after that. 

If it were any other day, you would have swooned at the notion of your superior calling you so late, but this seems a bit too coincidental for comfort. The recurring joke that Zhongli can be a little bit of an airhead has been going around your department for a few weeks now, but sometimes you forget that he can still be as sharp as a whip. Could he have sensed something amiss from the dream you gave him? How did he even get your number?

“Sir,” you greet him as evenly as you can. “Is there something wrong?”

Zhongli is silent for a moment, as if deliberating the words. “Hmm… Nothing in particular. My apologies for disturbing you beyond work hours, but I feel like I had something to tell you but regrettably forgot.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, shifting on top of your bed as you swing your legs over the edge. “Well, if it’s about the report you assigned, I won’t be able to give you the numbers until the end of the week, sir.”

“You’re mistaken. My inquiry isn’t about work,” he tells you, chuckling in a way that makes you blush for some reason. “It’s something a bit personal…yet I can’t seem to put my finger on it.”

“...Is it important enough that you couldn’t wait until tomorrow to discuss it?”

Alright, maybe you spoke a little out of line there. He’s your superior, yes, but your mind is still a bit frazzled from your earlier encounter in the dream. Zhongli certainly sounds like someone that just woke up, and while you like to entertain the idea that you’re the first person he thought about the moment his eyes opened, it’s not enough to dispel your unease. 

“Forgive me. Calling you at this hour does seem out of turn –” It is out of turn. “– but I had quite the odd dream. I can’t remember what exactly took place anymore, but I do remember you being in it.”

Calm down. He doesn’t remember the details – not that he had a lot to remember anyways. You could have sworn you only lasted two minutes in his head before scampering back to your own body because that’s how terrified you were. What’s even there to recall about it?

“I see,” you play along. “Maybe you were dreaming about work like usual. You do seem a bit more dedicated to your job than most.”

Zhongli breathes out another laugh that makes your insides tingle. Why does he sound infinitely sexier fresh out of slumber? “You really think that?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of anyone who does your job better than you do, sir.”

You wonder, at the last minute, if you said the right thing. But Zhongli lets out a satisfied hum from the other line, coupled with the sound of fabric rustling in the background. You try not to picture what he must look like right now – disheveled hair, unkempt sheets, drowsy eyes – but the image makes its way to your head regardless. The Zhongli you’re speaking to is already so different from the man you met in his dreams, and you can’t even see him right now. 

“I suppose I’ve taken up enough of your precious time,” he murmurs, sounding more and more apologetic by the minute. “Thank you for answering my call, regardless of what little value our conversation tonight harbored. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office, hopefully when I’m in a better state of mind.”

Better state of mind, he says. So Zhongli was affected by that dream, too…

But that’s something you can definitely think about later.

“Anytime, sir,” you reply. “Good night.”

“You’re looking worse and worse each day, you know that?”

This time, the person who bothers you at your cubicle is none other than your superior, Director Hu Tao. Though, even if she holds the highest position in the Wangsheng chain-of-command, she’s a bit too free-spirited to call a proper boss. 

She watches you slave away behind your laptop with folded arms, not looking the least bit amused. Though she wasn’t really meant to know, the director is one of the few people – more like, the only person – who’s aware of what you are and what you do to survive. It’s probably because Hu Tao comes from a family with deeper connections to all things supernatural, and thankfully, she’s more understanding of your predicament than you’d otherwise expect. 

In fact, she was kind enough to let you keep your job so long as you don’t let your…special needs affect your work. But for all of Hu Tao’s usual antics in the office, you know there’s no escaping her when she gets serious about something.

Especially when she’s nagging you about feeding intervals.

“When’s the last time, hm?” she asks, poking your cheek. “Aiya, you’ve lost the flab on your face. Come on, how am I supposed to pinch them now?” 

“About a month ago,” you grumble as you revise an important email for the fifth time today. “Director, shouldn’t you be in your office? I heard from Ganyu that you’ve been passing your work onto Mister Zhongli.”

“Pah, the consultant can deal with all the trifling matters in my stead.” Hu Tao shrugs. “Besides, he’s the one who started advocating for better employee conditions in this dump, right? I’m just making sure my subordinates are healthy and happy in the workplace~”

Speaking of Zhongli, it’s been a while since you saw him around. The last time you heard his voice was the night he called you out of nowhere – the same night you hijacked his dreams. Now, it’s already the end of the week and you’re yet to meet with Zhongli despite the deadline he gave you days prior. 

“I can hook you up with a bunch of guys I know,” Hu Tao suggests, unceremoniously swinging herself on top of your desk. “All you have to do is get inside their heads and do the magic, right? Hmm… If that’s the case, why don’t you just pick a random celebrity or something?”

“It doesn’t work that way, director,” you sigh. “If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be having this problem every month.” 

“Ehh, you’re so choosy.” She pouts. “If sharing a dream with strangers doesn’t work, why don’t you just come after them in real life? Nothing beats the real thing, right?”

You’re mildly aware of how loudly Hu Tao started to mouth off about your…predicament, but fortunately it was the middle of lunch break, and none of your desk neighbors were present to overhear. Pushing your chair from beneath the desk, you breathe in deep as you consider the director’s words. 

In hindsight, she was right. You know a bunch of succubi and incubi who copulate with humans nearly everyday – more because they’re weird sex addicts than them trying to last themselves to the next day. But you were drawing blanks as to how you’re going to explain to Hu Tao that the creatures she might have heard about have sex to enjoy it; you have sex to survive. The act itself still makes you squirm, so even if you have attempted to harvest energy in real life, you’d rather steer clear of resorting to that if you could still do the same thing in an unsuspecting man’s dreams.

But now, you aren’t even able to squeeze the tiniest ounce of sexual energy from your usual method. Hence, the problem.

“I’ll think about it,” you half-promise, stretching your limbs with a quiet sigh. “Oh, and if you see Mister Zhongli anywhere, could you tell him I’m done with my report? I was going to ask when he’d like to see it, but I haven’t seen him around lately.”

“Hm? Oh, right. I asked that guy to secure a deal with a Snezhnayan diplomat who’s visiting Liyue over the season,” Hu Tao tells you before hopping back to the floor. “Well, hope you get some sustenance soon, little devil. Wouldn’t want to find you all shrivelled up from sex deprivation one day.”

“Director, please…”

“Hahaha! Just teasing~”

Hu Tao hums a lively tune once she scampers away, and you’re left staring at the blinking cursor on your screen. The email you were drafting is supposed to be sent to the PR officer of the company you’re trying to scout with your report-slash-proposal attached as an extra file. But you can’t send it in without Zhongli’s green light. What’s worse is that it’s starting to get busy in the office at this time. The end of the year is the most hectic, and you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to the hustle and bustle that comes with it. It would make sense why Zhongli is suddenly hard to catch.

And your feeding shortage just had to coincide with all of this.

You pull out a hand mirror from your bag, inspecting the way your face looks. Eyebags and chapped lips can easily be concealed with makeup but it’s more difficult to mask the way you’re abnormally losing weight. Even Hu Tao was able to notice it right away. If only eating human food actually contributed to your body mass…

“Tonight for sure,” you mutter – knowing damn well that your words are only worth half a promise.

In all honesty, you don’t put much thought into the exact time of your feedings. You just lay in bed, get into the minds of your targets, and hope both of you fell asleep at the same time. It’s no different on your second attempt at harvesting energy from Zhongli.

You don’t call him, don’t text him. You don’t even bother trying to get some inside information about his sleeping habits from Ganyu. So when you attempt to just wing it one more time, you’re a little surprised to find yourself transported into the dreamscape – a wave of relief washing over you when you realize you’re not inside a cave anymore. 

You’re seated at the side of a river surrounded by ruins as far as the eye can see. The sound of flowing water fills your ears, a sound you almost find calming. Someone calls a name that doesn't belong to you, but your body responds to it either way when you turn your head around curiously. 

Zhongli stands in front of you, carrying a basket of sunsettias. He doesn’t look as intimidating as the first time you saw him in his dreams, but he’s donned with the same hooded robe, and the same gold-tipped antlers. The cruelty imbued in his gaze in that cavern has long gone – replaced with quiet sincerity that’s reminiscent of the one he exudes in the office. You feel your shoulders relax at the sight of him, but… 

Something doesn’t feel right.

He folds his legs at your side, and when he speaks, you hear nothing but a garbled, faraway noise. But despite not understanding a single word he says, you let out the occasional laugh, sometimes nodding along to Zhongli’s words before biting into one of the fruits he foraged. The wind whistles through the reeds in the overrun marsh, and all you can do is admire your companion’s autumn vesper eyes as you partake in a conversation only he understands. 

But when you suddenly inch closer to him – caressing his face with a hand that isn’t your own – that’s when you finally realize what was amiss.

“Rex,” the woman whose body you hijacked murmurs fondly, the sleeves of her dress billowing in the breeze. “You should give yourself more credit. The faith of the people has always been well-founded.”

Zhongli gazes at you (at her) with wide eyes before the look melts into a fit of chuckles. His lips move in response to what the woman said and, still, you don’t catch any of it. But when your eyes drift to where his strong arms peeked from the holes of his robe, you’re surprised to see his hands shining like molten amber in the waning light. Golden veins can be seen jutting across his forearms, eventually connecting to the odd patterns depicted on his bicep. The longer you stare, the more you question why your boss made himself look so godly in his dreams. As humble as he is, he does look highly of himself after all.

Turns out, you’re not the only one who was ogling Zhongli in the most inopportune moment. It seems like the woman you’re possessing(?) also treated herself to some eye candy the same time you did, and now you can feel your face heat up with embarrassment when he catches you staring. 

You expect him to laugh it off like usual. Your boss gets thrown compliments everyday since he started working at Wangsheng – compliments that never seem to do him enough justice. But he takes them all in stride before resuming the conversation like nothing happened. This Zhongli does none of that.

One of his strange, golden hands seizes your wrist tightly – your bashfulness suddenly morphing into confusion. Zhongli’s mouth twitches into something akin to a smile as he presses forward, forcing you to lean back to introduce as much space between you as possible. You can feel his breath fan against your face – cor lapis eyes glowing with desire – and you’re too stunned to retaliate. His other hand forces itself against the ground next to your hip, caging you in the heat of his embrace. Zhongli speaks again, and you’re starting to feel annoyed with the fact that you can’t make sense of what he’s even saying. But you can’t exactly relish in the feeling much because your body is reaching a fever pitch that’s making your head spin.

This is what you came here to do, isn’t it? Sure, you’re not really the person he’s seeing right now, but anything to get the deed done, right? All you had to do was suck out the sexual energy emanating from the god of a man that’s about to ravish you out in the open. Easy as pie.

His mouth latches onto yours in a way that’s almost familiar – which tells you that this isn’t the first time that Zhongli and this woman met each other so intimately. You respond in kind, letting your borrowed body take the reins as you feel him nudging apart the lapels of your dress, exposing supple breasts to the humid air. A full shudder runs across your skin when he growls against your lips, one arm curling around your waist before Zhongli possessively pulls you to his chest. 

Mine. 

You don’t hear his voice, but you feel the intent resonate all the way to your core as he practically tears off your clothes. Zhongli rests you atop the grass with little care for possible on-lookers, rolling his hips against yours as he decorates your neck with lovebites. Your fingers rake through his long, dark tresses – imprinting the image in your head for years to come. Your boss Zhongli always ties his hair with a jewel-encrusted band, so this version is definitely one for the books. 

I should’ve done this sooner, you think to yourself – whimpering when you feel the ridge of his cock straining against your middle. Much sooner… 

The rest of the details are lost in the muddled haze of your thoughts. You don’t remember if Zhongli even prepared you for what’s to come – all you know is the feel of his length prodding your slickened entrance. His grip on your body never falters even as the tip of his cock glides teasingly across your slit. You desperately move your hips closer, begging for the friction he’s holding over your head like a prize. But then, you meet his deep, amber gaze and for a moment, his eyes seem to soften in the midst of his lustful display.

When he kisses you again, your heart – this woman’s heart – comes alive. You can feel how much love she harbors, how she aches for him despite the fact that Zhongli’s hands roam around her body with the intent to leave no inch of skin untouched. 

I love you. That’s the only thought that echoes in your mind when he finally takes you – here, by the riverbank where you were the only two people in the world. These emotions aren’t your own, but you feel a surge so intense that you gasp aloud when Zhongli presses himself into you deep enough to make your vision blur. It all feels so real that you don’t even notice it when you naturally absorb the energy you’re meant to take in the first place. 

You’re not sure how it’s supposed to work in this situation, given that the body you’re using isn’t even yours. But you practically feel how Zhongli’s libido indirectly rejuvenates your spirits. Despite the fact that you’re being pounded in the middle of nowhere, you feel more refreshed – mind clearer as opposed to the jumbled mess it’s been over the past week. You never actually realize how your hunger can drive you into so much lethargy until you’re finally given the clarity of your sated instincts. 

“I don’t care for the humans like you do.”

You startle when you finally hear Zhongli’s familiar voice – hoarse with need, but still the same one you’ve come to admire. His forehead rests against yours as he thrusts his hips relentlessly, with a desperation you can almost see on his face. The woman lets out a sigh before she caresses his face with a gentle hand, thumb gently sweeping across the cut of his cheekbone. 

“You will,” she murmurs. “You’re their god, Rex. Their archon. You might not have any love for them now, but in time, you’ll understand.”

Her reply seems to irritate him. You watch as those golden eyes flash yellow with rage, but Zhongli is quick to manage the split-second shift in his emotions. Instead of lashing out, he buries his face into your neck, murmuring so softly, you almost didn’t catch the words.

“You’re the only one I’ll truly care for,” he says, fingers raking through your hair as he stills – filling you with the white hot rush of his release.

“I hope you know that will never change, Guizhong.”

There are two things that you end up mulling over when you finally get back to your own body. The first is the fact that Zhongli has way too hyperactive an imagination. About ninety-five percent of your feedings take place in your targets’ bedrooms, so having sex in the middle of a field is quite the new experience for you. The second is how your boss might actually have a girlfriend and you just…gleaned your monthly sustenance from him. Just like that. 

Your latter realization took you the fuck out. The moment you woke up, you marched into your kitchen, popped open whatever cans of beer you had inside the refrigerator, and decided to contemplate your actions for a long time. You typically don’t think about whether or not the person you’re feeding on has a significant other because…you’re not exactly committing adultery if it only takes place in their dreams, right? It isn’t supposed to be a big deal unless they try to make a move on you in real life. But thinking about how you unknowingly trespassed on an ultra hidden fantasy that Zhongli must’ve been having about his girlfriend introduces a spectrum of emotions that you’re too tired to sort out. Embarrassment, regret, shame. Those are just some of the things you’re feeling right now, and hopefully a six-pack is going to be enough to drown your not-so sorrows.

…On the bright side, at least you don’t feel like shit anymore. As you finish your third can of beer tonight, you make the effort to take a look at yourself in the mirror. The color in your cheeks has returned, as well as the so-called flab that Hu Tao misses so much. Those dark circles beneath your eyes have gone too, and admittedly, you haven’t seen your skin glow so much since your last successful feeding two months prior. 

But even if this is a cause for celebration – because finally, you won’t have to deal with those nasty hunger pangs again for at least another month – you can’t find it in you to be pleased with your results. 

You’re still a bit…conflicted with what you saw in Zhongli’s dream. You assumed it was just some weird fictional fantasy of his, but you’ve been inside the dreams of other men often enough to know that your boss’ dreamscape is a lot different from the rest. You’re yet to put a finger on the rhyme and reason behind your logic, but the experience filled you with the kind of curiosity that’ll get you in trouble one of these days.

“No more prying into your boss’ private life,” you say, pointing at your reflection in the mirror with a frown. “You are not a homewrecker. Got that?”

Now that you’ve recovered from being “under the weather”, all that’s left is to get your work quota over with before the year ends. You’re practically brimming with ideas now that you’re finally in the right headspace to brainstorm about the project that Zhongli entrusted you with. As you pop open your fourth beer alongside your laptop, you’re quite horrified to see the mess of a proposal that you worked on during the onslaught of your physiological suffering. Dear gods, you’re never going to deprive yourself like that again. It’s a good thing you waited for Zhongli’s approval first or else, you might’ve made a fool out of yourself to your clients.

When you finally finish proofreading and making all the appropriate edits, you hop into the shower for a nice, hot bath. And when you crawl underneath the covers, the smooth glide of your sheets feels like heaven against your skin. But regardless of how comfortable you are in your own bed; how relaxed you feel for the first time in weeks, you can’t bring yourself to fall asleep as easily as you’d like. 

Every time you close your eyes, all you can see is a man with molten gold irises and branches sprouting from his rich brown hair. You can even remember the smidge of red decorating the fine line of his lashes if you recalled the dream vividly enough. But the moment you start thinking about how he spread you apart and had his way with you –

I’m fucked, you realize as you wrench your eyes open – staring at the ceiling as if it’ll show you even an ounce of sympathy. I am so fucked.

Little did you know that ‘fucked’ is the understatement of the century.

“Ganyu, can I ask you something?”

The next day, you coincidentally find yourself sharing a table with Zhongli’s secretary during your lunch break. Ganyu looks up from the salad she’s been happily feasting on and flashes you a questioning look. “Of course. How can I help, miss?”

You pause for a while – deliberating whether it’s even worth looking into at the last minute – but you’ve already bothered Ganyu so… 

“Do you know a woman named Guizhong?”

You’re purposely avoiding her gaze when you bring up the question, casually sticking your fork into the food you ordered at the office cafeteria. But when you notice how Ganyu fell silent for too long, you flick your gaze back to her in the most casual way you can manage. To your surprise, she’s staring at you like you just insulted your family.

“H-How did you hear of that name?”

Brows raised, you offer a nonchalant shrug. “Hmm… I was looking through some old company records and found that name listed in the contacts. I just thought you might know who she is.”

You’re not even sure Ganyu is even going to take the bait for that white lie. There is absolutely no one who knows Wangsheng’s documents better than she does. This woman used to work under the Liyue Qixing, so it’s only natural for her to be meticulous in every aspect of her duties. But instead of laying suspicion on you like you expected her to do, Ganyu seemingly heaves a relieved sigh. 

“Well, yes. Miss Guizhong was one of the company’s contacts, but…” She bites her lip, fingers drumming nervously on her thigh. “Please refrain from mentioning that name to Mister Zhongli. As for the reason, it’s…quite complicated. I hope you understand why I can’t disclose any further, miss.”

…So Guizhong is a real person. A real person that Zhongli cares about deeply. But from the way Ganyu responded to your question, things might’ve gone awry between them at some point. 

Why do you feel…relieved all of a sudden? 

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” you promise – this time, you mean it. “I was just a bit curious.”

The secretary nods. “Mister Zhongli should be coming back today as scheduled. I’ve already gone over your proposal like you asked, and I don’t see any flaws in your plans, miss. I’m certain he’ll approve of it.”

Way to shift the topic of conversation. You might’ve applauded her for how smoothly she made that transition, but Ganyu just indirectly reminded you to keep your head in place. There’s still work to do, and you shouldn’t spend what little time you have fretting about your boss’ not-girlfriend. 

“Copy that,” you tell her, finishing the rest of your food with a newfound resolve.

When Zhongli finally arrives back at the office, you make sure to act like you usually do – timid yet just a touch daring when needed. You presented your proposal to Zhongli and the board of directors, since your boss insisted that they’re entitled to study its contents last minute. The idea of having an on-the-spot address makes you queasier than the moments leading up to your monthly feeding. But the entire time, the expectant stares of your other superiors didn’t faze you as much. All you can really focus on, aside from the important points you’ve outlined, are the vibrant gold of Zhongli’s eyes – peering from the nearest seat in the front in silent observation.

He looks so composed, like a slab of unmovable stone. You find it quite difficult to believe that your boss and the man who shows up in his dreams – the one with unruly hair and golden ichor horns – are the same person.

Once you’re finished speaking, the board begins to ask questions one by one – clarifying some things they wanted you to expound on. Thankfully, you’ve gone over your report multiple times before coming into the office this morning. Whatever inquiry they could throw at you, you justified with answers based on the sufficient data you’ve gathered over the past two weeks. You have to admit that being on the receiving end of their impressed stares is doing things to your ego, but what’s important is that your proposal has been pretty much approved. Nothing beats a sense of accomplishment, after all.

Zhongli is kind enough to escort you back to your cubicle, but you insist on dropping by the pantry first for a much-needed coffee break. You tell him that it’s alright if he doesn’t stick around if he has other matters to attend to, but it seems that your boss is going to take his time giving you his brunt of the praise.

“You did well. Far exceeded my expectations, even.” He smiles so radiantly that you can almost feel your chest twist with an unfamiliar feeling. “My apologies for suddenly disappearing all of a sudden. I was planning to help you work out the necessary details for this, but something else came up at the last minute. Though I know this all sounds like me making up petty reasons for my absence.”

You shake your head, taking a sip on your cup of instant coffee. “Not at all! Director Hu told me about your dealings with a Snezhnayan diplomat, so I figured that I needed to step up one way or another.”

Zhongli’s expression morphs into something unreadable before he reaches for one of the paper cups stashed away – filling it with cold water from the dispenser. “Is that what she’s told you all?” he sighs, taking a long gulp of his drink before setting the cup down on the table. “That child… I’m aware she has her way of running things in this company, but she needn’t lie about my whereabouts.”

…Lie? Wait, what exactly did Hu Tao –

“Since I forced you to spearhead such an important project alone, I might as well let you in on the truth,” he laughs softly, lips pressed into a small smile. “Would that make for sufficient compensation?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. “Um, you don’t have to if it’s a touchy subject, sir. I respect that we all have lives outside of work.”

“I insist,” Zhongli says, leaning against the wall without breaking eye contact. “It’s also a…means for me to ‘let out some steam’, as the director might’ve put it. But I won’t divulge anything you don’t wish to hear, of course.”

You take a moment to mull over his words. Is he saying that he wants to open up to you or something? Well…

“I don’t mind,” you reply, feeling the skin of your fingertips buzz underneath the heat of your cup. Anticipation –  that’s what you’re feeling. “You can tell me anything, sir. And I swear upon my end-of-year bonus that I won’t share it to a single soul.”

Your boss flashes you another smile, shaking his head in amusement. “I’m grateful for your promise of confidentiality. You truly are a worthwhile companion.”

“...As for the real reason behind my absence, no I did not meet with a non-existent envoy from Snezhnaya. I made a three-day trip to Guili Plains.” Zhongli speaks each word carefully, as if not wanting you to miss a beat. “You and the rest of the department aren’t familiar with such a tradition that I make sure to uphold every year, since I was just newly transferred. Ganyu, however, has known me long enough to know that I pay the cemetery there a visit during this season if time permits it.”

The break room is quiet, save for the ever-present hum of the water dispenser. You don’t know why, but there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that tells you you’re not going to like what he’s going to say next.

“When I was still pursuing my Bachelor’s, I had this…friend,” he continues, eyes trailing up to the ceiling as if reminiscing about a better time in his life. “A friend that I held closer to my heart than anyone else. We were supposed to build a company that could change the world together – a pipe dream that youths often pour their souls into when they think they can do anything and everything they desire.

“But one day, that friend fell ill all of a sudden. We both thought it was just a mild sickness, nothing so severe that we should fret about it.” He sighs, and you can see how his mild-mannered demeanor makes way for the sorrow that roots itself on his face. You’ve never seen Zhongli look so…downcast before. It makes you want to reach out and pull him into an embrace, but you know better than to overstep your boundaries. “I’m sure you know where this leads. Turns out, the disease wasn’t just an ordinary coughing fit. She was diagnosed with lung cancer and died of it faster than I could even complete my final semester in college.” 

“I-I’m sorry,” you blurt out all of a sudden – the shock on your face surfacing too suddenly for you to hide. “Oh, gods. You didn’t have to tell me this if it pains you to remember sir –”

“None of that,” Zhongli interjects, waving a hand in dismissal. “I chose to tell you this tale, didn’t I? Insisted, even. So you don’t need to worry about my grief, as this is something that I’ve long come to terms with.” 

Holy shit. Now you feel twice as terrible for feeling relieved that things between him and Guizhong have gone south. It’s all because she was dead. Great, now the fates are probably going to turn you into a lizard in your next life just to call it quits or something. But you don’t really have much room for those self-deprecating thoughts after everything Zhongli just told you.

“Guili Plains is quite far from here,” you comment, choosing your words carefully. “Did she live there? 

Zhongli hums. “Yes and no. The two of us lived together here in Liyue Harbor while we completed our studies, but she grew up in Guili. They’re no longer growing there today, but she used to tell me about how much she loved the glaze lilies that bloomed outside of her childhood home.”

…A ‘friend’ he used to live with. A ‘friend’ he held closer to his heart than anyone else. If there are awards for being the worst at masking hidden details, Zhongli is definitely raking everything in. Though you suppose now’s not the time to be nitpicking about your boss’ lack of subtlety. 

“How long has it been?” you ask. “If…you don’t mind me asking.”

“I think we’re both past the point of minding,” he chuckles, despite everything, and you can hardly believe it. “But…it’s been six years since she passed.”

Six years, and he still dreams of her.

You nod slowly before finishing the rest of your coffee – now cold with how long you took to drink it. 

“Thank you for sharing all this to me, sir. I–I…don’t know what to say,” you admit. 

“Nor do I expect you to say anything at all,” he tells you. “Just having an ear to listen to my…troubles is worth more than all the mora in this company combined. It’s quite rare for me to find anyone willing to hear me out.”

You wonder if it’s because of Zhongli’s picture perfect image that no one would stop to think that he experiences the same things everyone does. He grieves. He loves. He even lays himself vulnerable like this. Hell, you wouldn’t even dare to imagine Zhongli being anything but the unflawed superior everyone knows and adores if he never spoke about this at all. 

But he did. He trusted you enough to share a part of himself that he doesn’t just let anyone else know about. Whether it was just to repay your so-called stellar performance or something else, you’re grateful for his faith in you either way.

All of a sudden, you stride closer to Zhongli – the sound of you bumping against the side of the table at your urgency surprising him a bit. Before you can slip-up any further, you hold out your hand as you cast him a determined stare. 

“I’ll be looking forward to working on this project with you.”

Zhongli is at a loss for words for a while, those deep amber eyes alternating between your face and your outstretched hand. You wonder if he thinks you’re doing some sort of alien gesture. But in the end, your worries are dispelled the moment he shakes it gingerly.

“I feel the exact same way,” Zhongli says – in a much brighter tone now that the storm has passed. 

You just hope it will be a while before the clouds roll overhead once more.

The days pass by before you know it.

Along with the end of the year comes the beginning of your newest project. Zhongli was kind enough to lay all the groundwork in your stead, and all you had to do was secure some due partnerships with other companies residing in Yujing Terrace. With just a bit more convincing, you might even get the Liyue Qixing to become one of the official sponsors for the event, especially with someone like Ganyu by your side. Rumor has it that she’s one of Lady Ningguang’s favorite secretaries, until Zhongli whisked her away. You just prayed that she won’t take your boss’ past history of secretary-nabbing personally. 

Your reputation has slowly picked up in your department as well. For the past two years, you were always careful about the connections you made because even if Hu Tao is privy to your unique constitution, you’ll be forced to switch locations if someone catches wind that you’re a succubus. You’re certain that the director could pull a few strings if something like that ever happened, but you never really liked relying on others too much – more so making them share your burdens.

At least, that’s how things were before Zhongli entrusted you with such an important task.

“There’s a drinking party somewhere at Chihu Rock – one of the newbies is treating,” Zhang, the desk neighbor you used to hate so much, informs you as he stuffs his laptop into his backpack. “The girls from accounting asked me to invite you, if you’re wondering.”

You cast him a surprised stare while you tidy up your own workspace, sparing a quiet laugh once you get ahold of yourself. “You guys aren’t bullying the new employees into footing the bill, are you?”

“Hey, if this is how they want to get in their seniors’ good graces, who am I to say no?” He shrugs, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “So, you coming or not?”

Now that you think about it, you don’t particularly have anything else to get done for this week. All the necessary preparations for the first leg of the event are in place, and your team members assured that they’ll give you a ring once something comes up. 

“Sure thing,” you tell Zhang with a smile. “There better be finger food.”

Company drinking parties aren’t as bad as you thought. They’re not mixers in disguise, like all the manga you’ve illegally downloaded off Inazuman websites suggested. You got to know your close colleagues, and some other people in departments that rarely come into contact with yours. The alcohol isn’t half bad either, especially when the lively newcomer Zhang told you about is going to make good on his promise. You’re not so stuck-up that you’ll deny free food and drinks once they’re offered.

To your dismay, you still aren’t used to drinking with a lot of people as company. Normally, you just grab a few packs of beer from the supermarket before consuming them in your lonesome at home. You realize a little too late that if you’re drinking out, you really shouldn’t be chugging glass after glass as if you’re the only person enjoying the liquor out here. 

After a few more pints, some of your co-workers have started to tap out – making you pout at them, red-faced and more pissy than usual. “What? You guys are going? And here I thought these drinking parties lasted until morning.”

Zhang shakes his head at your side, clinking his glass with yours before downing his drink. “Right? These guys have been hanging out with us for months, but they act like they can’t handle drinking on a work night.”

“Hmph, we all know why you’re insistent on staying behind tonight, Zhang,” one of the girls from accounting – Chen? Was that her name? – says, rolling her eyes as she hoists her handbag over her shoulder. “Just…take care of her, alright? Zhongli’s going to kick your ass if something happens.”

You’re still feeling a bit woozy from the beer, so you can only crane your head in confusion. What did she mean by take care of you? You can take care of yourself, thank you very –

“I will, I will,” Zhang chuckles, and suddenly, you feel a heavy arm drape itself across your shoulders – making you wrinkle your nose. “I never expected her to drink so much, but it’s a good thing that I’m here.” 

“I doubt that,” Chen scoffs. “Oh, well. See you guys tomorrow!”

Once the others make their leave, that’s when you start mumbling under your breath “Ugh. The first time I actually come along to these kinds of things and the people who invited me don’t even last until the end,” you complain, pressing your face against the wooden table in front of you. “Where’s the kid that said he was going to pay for everything? It’s just the two of us left…”

Zhang rubs your back in a way that isn’t really soothing the way your skin burns from the alcohol, but you’re a bit too intoxicated to tell him off. “Aww, don’t worry. Some of my pals helped the poor guy home, but he asked the bar to put everything on his tab before he passed out. So if you still want to have a go, I’m down.” 

You can feel something buzzing in your bag, but it’s probably just a text notification from your phone carrier. You’ve been receiving a lot of those lately. Maybe you should pay your bill soon. But your thoughts about phone bills are rudely interrupted by the feel of Zhang snaking an arm around your waist – pulling you upright as he steadies your shoulder with his free hand.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep here,” he says. “You’re going to feel like shit once you wake up from a drunk nap, you know.”

“Don’t care…” you mumble, eyelids drooping as you lose your grip on the handle of your glass. “‘M so sleepy. Can you get me a cab back home, Zhang…? Don’t think I can commute anymore.”

Zhang doesn’t respond right away, and you nearly doze off in that short bout of silence. But eventually, your desk neighbor helps you back to your feet and walks you out of the bar – exchanging farewells with the bartender on your way out.

The late evening breeze feels chilly against your legs, even through your stockings – yet that isn’t quite enough to make you snap out of your drowsiness. You end up leaning against Zhang for support as you wait for him to call a cab, all the while you screw your eyes shut – trying to stop your head from spinning. 

“You know… There’s a hotel nearby that we can just crash in for the night.”

You’re too far between consciousness and slumber to fully process what he just said. All you can do is press the side of your face against his shoulder as you attempt not to fall asleep on the spot. But, apparently, Zhang takes your lack of a response for confirmation – wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he leads you to the direction of the hotel. You don’t really think of it much, since the desire to sleep is the only thing weighing on your mind right now. You’re just glad someone’s patient enough to guide you as you stumble around the sidewalk. 

Suddenly, though, Zhang’s strides come to a halt. 

Your mind vaguely registers the sound of him speaking to someone else. Huh. You could’ve sworn the others have already left. But their conversation lasts a bit longer than you anticipated, and you force yourself to listen in. 

“...Thank you for watching out for her all this time. I’ll take it from here.”

This voice…? Is that –

“U-Uh, sure, sir,” you can hear Zhang sputter beside you before you feel him shift your weight onto something – no, someone else. “I don’t really know where she lives so –”

You don’t really hear the rest of what Zhang has to say because you’re distracted by the person who just joined the fray. His clothes feel thick underneath your touch, like tailored fabric made from the most exquisite material, and they carry a familiar scent that reminds you of incense – one with a unique spice, just a touch archaic. You might’ve been too drunk to tell at the time, but if you had more strength than you did, you would’ve pushed Zhang away because his touch alone already didn’t feel right. With this person, though? You’d gladly lay in his arms for days. 

The last memory you have that night is the sensation of being gently ushered into the passenger seat of an unfamiliar car. A soothing voice speaks to you constantly, as if trying to keep you awake. But the gentle lull of his words do little to aid that particular cause, and when he slides into the driver’s seat next to you, you’re already out like a light.

“Is anything the matter?”

You blink in non-plus, feeling like you’ve just woken up from a dream despite the fact that you’re sitting in a vast field of flowers. Wait a moment. 

Glancing at your side, you see the Zhongli’s humanoid counterpart – those draconian eyes of his scanning your face to see if something was wrong. In his hands is a bundle of pale blue flowers, clutched tightly between his clawed fingers, and you feel your shoulders sag. The idea that you unknowingly stepped into his dreams again as Guizhong incites a rush of guilt that you have all the reason to feel right now.

You don’t even remember planning on feeding tonight. Sure, it’s been a while since the first time you collected energy from your boss, but you’re not particularly in need of a refill right now. How did you even end up here in the first place?

Thankfully, Guizhong does all the talking while you accustom yourself to your unplanned invasion. “I just never thought you’d humor my request. You were never that fond of the glaze lilies.”

“This is where I met you all those years ago,” he reminds you. “Why would I ever loathe the thing that brought us together, my love?”

Silence envelops the two of you for a sliver of a moment, and you catch the scent of the ephemeral flowers even in the filtered reality of Zhongli’s dream. Guizhong lets out a peal of gentle laughter as she picks one of the lilies that grew in abundance – examining the unassuming bloom rather fondly.

“These flowers take the memories of the land and transform them into an unforgettable fragrance,” she murmurs. “When the war is over, do you think they’ll still carry the scent of our union, Rex?”

…War? There’s a war?

But in the end, you never get to hear Zhongli’s answer nor the proper explanation behind what Guizhong just said. When you open your eyes, it’s to an unfamiliar room that makes you bolt upright – eyes frantically darting around the vicinity while you try to recall what happened before you fell asleep.

Drinking party. Zhang being all touchy feely. Being taken care of by someone else.

You try not to think about the awful taste that lingers in your mouth as you try to figure out whose house you’re currently crashing. This obviously isn’t yours because you can’t afford the imported rug that’s tucked underneath the queen-sized bed. However, when your gaze lands on the dark-wood nightstand, you see a couple of glaze lilies sitting in an expensive-looking vase.

The next thing your barely sober mind takes note of is the presence of another person on the bed right next to you. Anticipation coils in your gut as you turn around slowly, and when you see Zhongli sleeping soundly a respectable distance away, you can’t help the way your heart throbs at the sight. He looks a bit more like the man in his dreams like this – dark hair pooled messily across his pillows. And you also notice that he’s still in the dress shirt he often wears to work, further suggesting that he might’ve fallen asleep while watching over you. The idea is enough to make your face flush with shame.

You spot your bag placed on top of a table at the other side of the room, so you quietly slip out of his bed before retrieving your phone inside. How did Zhongli even know where you were? Was he aware that you were out drinking with your colleagues? A single glance at your lock screen is all the answer you need because there, you bear witness to several unanswered calls and text messages from your boss himself. 

From where you stood, you cast the man in question a longing stare. He was kind enough to take care of you when you obviously couldn’t do that for yourself – even going as far as to let you sleep on the same bed as him. Zhongli is quite the busy man. Busy enough that he always turns down any and all invitations for drinks, yet he showed up outside the bar earlier tonight and just…took you back home with him? You don’t see any signs that he might’ve tried to take advantage of your inebriated state either – not that you believed that Zhongli is capable of such a thing. He was a proper gentleman through and through.

But…good intentions aside, you’re still at a loss for answers when you recall the dream you shared with him just now. This is the first time you found yourself inside a dreamscape without meaning to, and you’re unsure of whether or not this is a cause for alarm. What’s more is that his dreams always seem to take place in a world that’s wholly unfamiliar to you – a place where you take the form of his past lover without any real reason behind it.

Not wanting to overstay your welcome, you quickly type in a text message to Zhongli – thanking him for everything he’s done, along with an apology that you’ll probably repeat once you see him again in the office. Although you’re more conscious of his aberrant dreams than you imposing on his kindness. 

You tell yourself to just leave whatever you saw, whatever you heard there in his mind. There’s no reason for you to keep nosing in. You already got your fill, right? And you never feed on the same person twice – never.  

You just hope you can live by that personal rule of yours for as long as you can.

News flash: you cave to your pesky, curious tendencies not two days since the incident.

Zhongli makes it terribly easy for you, too. Every night, by eleven P.M., your boss is already sound asleep – providing you with ample time to travel in-between dreams before reaching the one that perpetually occurs inside his head. 

The more you make these timely visits, the more you learn about the life that Zhongli – no, Rex Lapis – lives in this world. He’s someone that mortals call the God of Contracts. Someone who shows no mercy to anyone who dares break any sort of agreement that they willingly set in stone. He and Guizhong live in an era where the gods fight for the title of archon – a concept that you’re still having some trouble wrapping your head around. But in the most fundamental sense, Rex is someone equally respected and feared, and you can’t blame others for feeling that way.

When he speaks to people that aren’t Guizhong, he dons a stone-cold visage that still makes your blood run cold despite how many times you’ve seen it. It wasn’t a bluff when he said he didn’t care for the humans he and his lover watched over. All he wanted was to give Guizhong a place to live comfortably – and if that meant felling other gods just to attain that goal, he’ll gladly bloody his hands for it. 

But Guizhong, the God of Dust, was never that fond of Rex’s violent ways of doing things. 

She reminds him that humans are just as small and fragile as dust. They do not know when they’re bound to lose their lives to disaster or strife, and so they live in fear. Because they live in fear, they try so hard to be much more than the small, fragile creatures that the gods have reduced them to. Guizhong is a god who’s more human than divine, and you suppose that’s something that Rex is yet to fully understand.

These are only some of the things you learned during your visits, and you can’t help but tune into every scenario that unfolds. Like a television series you can’t quite get enough of. However, you’re careful not to let the curious tale of Zhongli’s dreams hinder you in your waking life. 

Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to remember any of the things that take place in his dreams. Whenever you run into him at work, Zhongli simply greets you with that trademark smile of his before discussing business as usual. No telltale signs of any sort of disturbance rooted from his slumber. 

At the office, you notice that you’ve become closer beyond measure as well – both as colleagues and, you daresay, friends. Along with the team you’re heading for the project, your boss is one of your constant support systems during such a hectic time in your career. 

Not only does he serve as something similar to your advisor, but he also keeps you company whenever you need to unwind.

During one of your late dinners, you share a glass of wine in his company as he shares some embarrassing work stories over the years. Zhongli is about three years your senior, so it makes sense for him to have more tales to tell. Nonetheless, you enjoy every minute of it, and in the back of your mind, you wonder when he’ll take you out like this again.

But when Zhongli drives you back to your apartment that night, he abruptly grabs hold of your wrist as you open the door to the passenger seat. You shoot him a startled look, but your boss’ alluring gaze doesn’t waver. You want to ask him what’s the matter, but before you can even get a single word out, he’s already pulling you close enough for a kiss.

You can’t process what was happening fast enough – simply sitting there in shock as you feel your superior’s mouth move against yours. When Zhongli doesn’t get so much as a reaction from you though, he pulls away with a troubled look on his face. 

“I apologize. Really, I do,” Zhongli says. “Perhaps I’ve had too much –”

This time, your senses finally kickstart into motion as you throw your arms around his neck before pulling him in again. You return his kiss in earnest, even going as far as licking the swell of his bottom lip to show you that you’re more eager for his affections than he initially assumed. And when you feel his strong arms circle around your waist in the same, possessive way he held you in the first dream, you all but moan into his mouth.

You’re not sure how things led up to this point, exactly. It’s true that you and him have grown more familiar with each other since the project’s launch, but you never would’ve imagined doing this with Zhongli in real life. You thought you were content with having sampled the more sensual side of him in your dreams, but as it turns out, Hu Tao was right.

Nothing beats the real thing.

“What does this mean?” you whisper in-between gasps, laughing a bit as Zhongli chases after your lips. He lets out a disgruntled noise when you pull away, and you feel the urgency in his touch when his hand rests against your cheek.

“It means I fancy you very much,” he tells you bluntly. “Though I admit, this might be too sudden. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, or if you don’t wish to do these kinds of things with me. I just hope my admission doesn’t change our dynamic at work.”

…Is he being for real? Did Zhongli just assume that you didn’t feel the same way? 

“Everything happens all in due time,” you tell him with a smile, brushing away some of his bangs as you take the time to admire the man before you. “And who said I wasn’t at all interested, sir?”

Zhongli sighs, dipping his head closer to press a fleeting kiss on your forehead. The sensation sets your heart alight with glee, and you can’t help but lean closer to his touch.

“When it’s just the two of us, I’d prefer it if you called me by my first name,” he tells you as he presses another kiss to your cheek. “Would that be alright?”

“Of course,” you breathe – placing your hand over the one he’s using to cup your face. “I’d love that.”

At that moment, you don’t think about how it’s been tough for you to find yourself a boyfriend over the last few years. How starting a relationship like this with Zhongli is going to give you more problems than you bargained for. All that matters is the comforting warmth of his touch as the two of you bask in each other’s company in the privacy of his car. 

Nothing more, nothing less.

Times where you attempt to contact people like yourself are few and far in between. You want little to do in the lifestyles of other succubi and incubi, but it’s a different case with Xingqiu.

You met him by chance in the most awkward way possible. One time, you decided that a college boy who once interned at Wangsheng was going to be your target of the month. But on the night you tried to harvest energy from him, someone else was already occupying the dream – doing the things you were supposed to do before you could even arrive.

Long story short, you ended up doing a little snooping around with your targets first before going in for the kill. You wouldn’t want to run into Xingqiu in the middle of a feeding again, after all.

“It’s been a while,” he comments as you slide into the seat across from him. Xingqiu closes the book he was reading and props an elbow on the table, resting his head against the curve of his palm. “I’m guessing this is really important if you came to me for help.”

“It is,” you sigh.

Your companion nods along and smiles. “Okay, I’ll hear you out. Make sure to order something first because I can tell this one’s going to take us a while.”

Wanmin Restaurant, the place he chose for your quick meeting, serves the best Black-Back Perch Stew you’ve ever tasted in your life. This makes it a whole lot easier to settle down and explain your situation to Xingqiu to the most minute details. He quietly eats his own food as you tell him about the dreams you experience inside Zhongli’s head. How it always takes place in the same setting. How the sequence of events seem to have a linear pattern to them – which is quite rare to encounter in a human’s dreams. You’ve never once felt any sense of order whenever you hopped into the minds of your targets, but it’s as if you’re witnessing something straight out of a film reel when it comes to your boss-turned-lover.

You suspect that Xingqiu has been an incubus long before you’ve even been born. In spite of his appearance, you can tell he holds more wisdom about your kind than one would expect. So it doesn’t come as a surprise when he quietly hums at the end of your story – an answer already prepared in advance.

“Memories,” he says simply. “You’re not just witnessing that man’s dreams – you’re watching his memories.” 

You frown. “But…that place is something that’s straight out of a fantasy novel. Gods and monsters? A world plunged into a war? How could Zhongli have memories of that?”

Xingqiu spares you a soft laugh. “How do creatures like us still exist in a world catered for humans and humans alone? There are many things that can’t be explained by pure logic. But I have a hunch that the owner of the memories you see is both your boyfriend and isn’t at the same time.”

“...I’m sorry?”

“Do you believe in past lives?” he asks. “Reincarnation, exactly. Do you believe that all of us have already lived once before?”

“Are you saying that the stuff I’m seeing in his dreams are memories of a past life?” you clarify, face twisting with confusion. “Xingqiu, isn’t that a bit…”

“Crazy? It is,” he chuckles. “But like I said, this world leaves a lot of things unexplained. Some details are meant to sound crazy so you wouldn’t think they’re actually possible.”

You toy with what’s left of your dish, the appetite you’ve built up suddenly dissipating at the idea that Xingqiu just proposed to you. So even in a past life, Zhongli adored Guizhong to the point that he’d tear both heaven and earth asunder all in her name. You wonder if the Zhongli in this world, the one you’re currently dating, loved Guizhong to the same degree as well. He probably did, and you probably wouldn’t compare to someone like her.

“Is it possible for past lives to have some…parallels to the ones we live now?” Your voice is quiet, almost as if you fear for the answer.

The incubus considers the question for a moment. “Well, yes. The saying ‘history repeats itself’ isn’t exactly true because history doesn’t repeat itself – sometimes, it just rhymes. Things that occurred in the past can occur again in the present, but they won’t always entail the same meaning.” 

You receive his words with a solemn nod, feeling your chest twist uncomfortably. Somehow, you don’t really like the sound of that.

“Thank you,” you tell Xingqiu when the two of you are done splitting the bill. “You seriously shed some light on a lot of things that were confusing me.”

“Don’t mention it,” he insists, tucking his book underneath his shoulder. For a moment, you think that this is where you part ways, but Xingqiu suddenly pauses – eyes narrowing as he leans closer to you. “When was the last time you fed?”

You’re taken aback by his sudden inquiry, but you manage an answer all the same. “Um, a while.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? You have a boyfriend that’s more than willing to help you, right?” He posits the question like he expected the answer to be yes, but when you shyly avert your gaze, Xingqiu’s smile falls almost immediately. “Oh, no. He doesn’t know what you are, does he?”

“It’s kind of hard to just go off on a tangent and say, ‘hey I’m actually a demon that receives my life force from dream sex’,” you point out, but know he’s right either way. “I…I do plan on telling him. Just not anytime soon. We’re kind of busy with a huge project at work, and I can’t really drop something like that out of nowhere.”

Xingqiu sighs, pinching his nose between his fingers. “But you’ve been spending a lot of time in his dreams anyways. Am I right? You seem to know an awful lot about his past life now that I think about it.”

…Of course Xingqiu’s going to be the one who catches you red-handed.

It’s really no secret that you still frequent Zhongli’s dreams, not to feed but to learn more about the life Rex lived alongside Guizhong. Since you started going out with your boss, the details became more descriptive with each visit. It’s as if you’re starting to assimilate yourself better in Guizhong’s body, and you could glean more insight about that strange, strange world with more certainty. Last night, she and Rex talked about how they plan on transferring the Guili Assembly to the harbor city, where they’ll be far from the evil gods that wish to kill them all.

“Well, whatever your circumstances are, you know what happens when you don’t feed,” Xingqiu reminds you almost grimly, not leaving any trace of his once cheerful façade. “Don’t downplay the effects of hunger. We’re already an endangered species as is.”

As you head home that day, you end up thinking about his warning more than you should. Everything Xingqiu said is in the right – you knew as much. You’ve had to suffer through the aftereffects only recently yourself, but...

You can take it. Just a bit more.

The next day, Zhongli comes over to your apartment to prepare dinner for you. He’s been excited all week to serve you his signature bamboo shoot soup, but Xingqiu’s words haunt you for the entirety of the day. You try your best not to make your distress obvious to your boyfriend, but you’re gravely mistaken if you thought Zhongli wasn’t going to catch on.

“Is anything on your mind?” he asks softly, pressing his lips to your neck. You’re seated comfortably in his lap as the two of you lounge on the sofa. But even if this has become one of your favorite places to relax with him, you just can’t bring yourself to do so now.

“Just…work,” you sigh as you rest your head across his chest. 

The beat of his heart is steady like usual, reminding you that Zhongli is real and breathing right beside you. That he’s not just a product of your dreams, like your mind always leads you to believe.

“Somehow I don’t believe that.” You can almost hear him pout. “Was dinner not to your liking, perhaps?”

“No, it’s not that,” you insist. “I’m just…really tired is all.”

That’s not exactly a lie. You’re starting to feel the effects of your own self-deprivation with each passing day. And even if you already learned your lesson last time, your conscience can’t take the idea of feeding on another person when you have a boyfriend. To further add to your list of problems, even if you wanted to harness energy from Zhongli, the setting of his dreams is too convoluted for you to pick up the right momentum. 

Rex Lapis was working hard to defend the land that he and Guizhong dedicated their lives to protect. Even if you appeared as the woman he loved more than anything else in his dreams, you doubt you’ll be able to seduce him during such a crucial period in the war. 

So now, you’re stuck in a stalemate between your own stubbornness and physiological needs. You’re not even going to be surprised anymore if your body just suddenly gives out on you one of these days.

“Can I propose something that could take your mind off such trifling affairs?”

The room falls silent once he utters the words, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks. Was he suggesting what you think he’s suggesting? 

As far as intimacy goes, you haven’t really gone all the way with Zhongli. Apart from the occasional makeout sessions in the break room, in his office, and sometimes even his car, you never really sought for anything more than that. You’re well aware that Guizhong’s death is still fresh in his heart, and if he ever considered the possibility of sex, you’d want him to come to you in his own time. 

This is quite the opportune moment for it, too. You’re barely keeping up appearances now that your stockpile of sexual energy started to dwindle. But now that Zhongli was coming onto you, you suppose it won’t hurt to kill two birds with one stone. 

There’s something different in the air as he carries you to your bedroom – lips never straying too far from yours. Zhongli’s eyes are heavily lidded with want, a look you have a tough time imagining on him given the man’s saintlike patience. But as he carefully peels off your clothes, you can’t help but think how different he is from Rex. Where the God of Contracts is ferocious and impatient, Zhongli seems like he’s going to take all the time in the world to drown you in his love. 

“That tickles,” you mewl as his fingers trail across your inner thigh and you feel him smirk against the skin of your throat. 

“I know,” he says. “I quite enjoy seeing you squirm underneath my touch.”

“You’re mean…”

You can barely contain the gasp that resounds from your lips when you feel him tracing your slick entrance with the prod of his fingers. Zhongli murmurs the sweetest things against your lips, yet the things he’s doing between your thighs are anything but innocent. He keeps your knees apart, spreading you open for only him to see, and as he gazes at you from above, you clumsily tug off the tie that’s holding his beautiful hair in place.

Dark brown tresses cascade across the sides of his head. You stare up at the gorgeous man above you with a longing sigh.

When his long, thick digits sink into you, you silence your moans in the curve of his shoulder – teeth biting down at his flesh as Zhongli loosens you up. You feel his thumb occasionally catching on your clit, as if meaning to tease a momentary sensation of pleasure before denying you a few moments later. He’s cruel like that. Nonetheless, he watches you with quiet fascination as you practically grind yourself against his hand – feeling just how wet his fingers have gotten in the short time you were inside the room. The squelch of your cunt is a sound you would’ve been too embarrassed to hear, had you been with someone else. But with Zhongli, everything just seems so right.

“That’s it,” he goads you huskily, teeth grazing the side of your jaw. “Lose yourself for me, darling. Think of no one else but me.”

Darling? That’s new. But the new pet name only serves to push you over the edge – making your walls clench around his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. Zhongli claims your lips in another heated kiss, relentlessly plunging his digits into you despite the overstimulation. You beg him to stop, but the only sound that comes from your mouth is a broken moan of his name.

You’re nothing but a boneless pile on the bed when you finally come down from your high, breathing heavily as you attempt to reorient yourself to your surroundings. The sensation of Zhongli shifting above you registers a bit late in your mind, but your frayed nerves jolt back to life when you feel him rubbing the head of his cock across your glistening seam. 

“Too much,” you whimper. “Zhongli, i-it’s too much…”

He leans down to press a loving kiss on your mouth, one of his hands rubbing your hip soothingly. “Shhh, I know you can take me. Just like you always have.” 

…Wait, what?

You can’t even offer what he said another thought because Zhongli makes good on his words and slowly slips his length into you without much warning. A sob nearly tears its way out of your throat with how his thick cock stretches you to the brim, but your lover kisses away the tears before they even come. 

“You mean so much to me,” he murmurs, twining his hands with yours. “More than you could ever know.” 

That was a given. Having Zhongli as a boyfriend made you feel like you were important; you were loved. Though you haven’t been dating for all that long, he never once gave you a reason to doubt the sincerity of his feelings. So despite all the odd things you unknowingly witnessed in his dreams, you like to believe that he meant every word. 

His hips slap against yours unabated, pumping his length hard and fast enough to make you croon his name over and over. And even if he managed to exhibit some degree of patience a while ago, it takes little time for Zhongli to move past his courtesy and bite down on the skin of your throat hard enough to bruise. 

“Mine,” he growls. “I’ll never let you go, my love.”

You would’ve teased him for such a cheesy choice of words if you were under different circumstances. But the moment the new endearment falls from Zhongli’s lips, you go completely still underneath him. 

“Stop. Zhongli, please stop.”

To his credit, he listens just as told – gazing at you with a puzzled look as he takes his length out. Zhongli is concerned for a moment, because you’re staring at him as if he’s killed a man right in front of you. When he reaches out a hand to touch your face, intent on asking what was wrong, you instinctively slap it away.

“I…” Your voice fails you. After all, how on earth can you just tell him that you wanted to stop because that was the very same thing that Rex calls Guizhong in his dreams. You can’t help but think that Zhongli used to call the Guizhong of this world the same thing, too.

Sometimes, real life could coincide with what happens in the dreamscape. Inside his mind, Rex Lapis sees Guizhong, not you. And you’re more than inclined to believe that it’s the same case here with Zhongli.

You’re not the one he sees – it’s the dead woman that he’s never stopped loving these past six years.

You know you’re being obtuse. Your boss isn’t the kind of person who lets his past grievances interfere with his present relationships. But the anxiety you’ve accumulated since your meeting with Xingqiu had boiled over with the worst timing possible. 

Instead of talking it out, you roll over to your side of the bed – pulling the covers tight enough around your body so that he sees no inch of it. You know that what you’re doing is probably hurting Zhongli more than you think, but you shut out any hint of remorse that threatens to make you waver.

It doesn’t take long for him to settle on the spot right next to you. Zhongli doesn’t ask why you suddenly pushed him away, nor do you make an effort to explain. 

“I’m sorry.” 

His words ring sincerely enough, but it sounds like he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for. You don’t fault him for it. You’re still unsure why you even let yourself be consumed by your own doubts. Didn’t you just say you believed in Zhongli when he told you how much you mean to him?

You suppose this is where you fall short compared to Guizhong. The God of Dust put her faith in Rex Lapis despite his violent tendencies. She believes in him both as his follower and lover in equal measure. You, though? You’re already lucky enough to be dealing with a mellowed down version of the man in your dreams, but you still decide to take it for granted. Because…what? You’re insecure? You’re jealous of a woman who’s been dead for six years?

In the end, you decide that you’re too tired to think about it at the moment. Since you interrupted your own feeding session, your body wasn’t able to gain even an ounce of energy. You’re better off preserving what little you had left if you knew what was good for you.

(If Zhongli hears you choke on your own sobs later in the night, he says nothing of it in the morning.) 

“Can you make a contract with me?”

Rex Lapis is cleaning the blood off his polearm when Guizhong’s voice cuts through the silence of the night. He stares at her hard, yet his gaze still carries a hint of fondness he’s reserved for her and her alone.

She purses her lips before continuing, “If I were to be infected by the miasma that’s tainting the guardian yakshas in the front lines, I want you to take my life.”

“No.” His answer is quick and precise, as if he’s already mulled it over several times before she even brought the matter to light. “If that happens, I’ll turn this world upside down just to find a cure that can save you.”

“Yet you can’t even do that for the children who devoted their lives to you?” 

He stills, feeling the jab of his lover’s accusation hit harder than he expected. It’s not that he doesn’t care for the adepti – he simply knows that it’s in their nature to be more tenacious than the rest of their soldiers. Rex Lapis is certain that they can resist the effects of the miasma on their own merit. Guizhong, however, is just as delicate as the dust she holds dominion over. He’d rather watch the world burn first than let her die either by his hand or the corruption induced by that pesky miasma.

But still, he respects all his lover’s thoughts and wishes. She isn’t the brains of their operation for nothing. Without her, he wouldn’t have made it half as far in this war as he did now.

“Very well,” Rex Lapis agrees, albeit reluctantly. “I will honor this contract until the day I die.”

Guizhong’s eyes soften at his decision, and when she smiles, he feels his stone cold heart thawing at the radiance that only she can ever exude.

“I know you will.” 

“You’re doing it again, huh?”

Hu Tao ambles by your cubicle with that knowing tone of hers, arms crossed in a way that suggests you’re about to receive another thorough scolding. But you’re really not in the mood to be told off by someone who hasn’t lived in your shoes before, so you opt to ignore her. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” she huffs, fingers pinching your face like she often does but you keep your eyes straight on the screen of your laptop. “Aren’t you and the consultant seeing each other lately? Is he not good in bed or something?”

Thankfully, the director has the decency to lower her voice when she speaks, making you heave another sigh before glancing at her warily. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Hmm… Let me guess. You’re doing something you’re not supposed to, aren’t you?”

Hu Tao’s perceptiveness is absolutely beyond you. You’ve always known that she’s quicker on the uptake than most people you’ve met in life, but it’s almost scary how she’s seemingly aware of your actions. You’re the succubus and she’s the human, but sometimes you feel like Hu Tao has more power over you than you initially assumed.

You try not to think about the more recent additions to your vignettes of Zhongli’s past memories. You can tell that the stakes of the war were growing higher and higher each time you visited his dreams. Could that be the influence of the current events in his life?

Ever since the night you pushed him away, you and Zhongli haven’t been on speaking terms. Sure, the two of you still conversed about details that need fine-tuning for your project, but beyond that, it’s complete radio silence. His good morning and good night texts have stopped, and he’s never once dropped by your apartment in that time frame; nor has he invited you over to his own. His distant behavior tears you up more than you realize, but you tell yourself that he has all the right to avoid you if he’s upset about what you did.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell Hu Tao. “Director, forgive me for being blunt, but I’d like to focus on this report now.”

Your superior sighs. You assume she’s going to concede early for a change, but the moment you think Hu Tao is already on her way, you feel her lean closer to your ear, whispering something that sends a chill down your spine.

“Don’t dive too deep into matters that don’t concern you. Don’t try to change things that have already been set in stone,” she says calmly, her fingers digging slightly into your shoulders. “If you lose sight of what’s really important, you might lose yourself in the process, too.”

When she lets go of you, Hu Tao continues humming that same, lively song she always sings – leaving you to deal with the guilt that grips your heart like a vice.

About two weeks since Zhongli started giving you the silent treatment, you come to a sound conclusion.

He’s still thinking about Guizhong. Well, she was his first love – meaning, your boss isn’t exactly going to stop thinking of her anytime soon. But you thought about your conversation with Xingqiu several times over the last few days. You hypothesized that the reason why Zhongli was continuously dreaming about his memories of a past long gone is because his grief cuts even deeper than he let on. 

Though you have no means of making sure, you’re almost too certain that the reason Zhongli still thinks of her even if you’re right in front of him is because her memory is too painful to let go. He clings to it subconsciously, and that desperation manifests itself in his dreams – back to a lifetime where Guizhong still lives.

The things that happened in the past are bound to happen in the present; that’s what Xingqiu told you the last time. So if the Guizhong in this world has already passed on, it’s safe to assume that the one in his dreams is bound to face the same fate as well. 

But…you have the power to change that.

Even if it’s nothing but a memory now, what if you could alter the outcome? If Zhongli is left with memories of Guizhong that aren’t tained with sorrow, maybe he can finally move past it.

Maybe he can finally see you instead of her.

It’s a fool’s line of reasoning – you know that. This was going to be one of the most dangerous things you tried in anyone’s dreamscape. But you’re so catastrophically in love with Zhongli, that you’d give up anything just to ease his pain. 

You’re well aware that your body is deteriorating at an exponential pace. Not only are you expending a lot of energy to tinker with Zhongli’s memories, but you don’t even bother with feeding anymore. You tell yourself that you can do that later, once you manage to save Guizhong from her timely demise. 

Everything you can think of to keep her from dying, you made sure happened in the dream. You don’t let her walk out to the front lines to give orders like she usually does. You make sure to avoid all the guardian yakshas, who are already tainted with the corruption that craftier gods weaponized against Rex Lapis’ forces. And most of all, you don’t let her leave his sight longer than she needs to – because if there’s anyone you can rely on to keep Guizhong alive, it’s Zhongli himself.

Of course, you’re still doing splendidly in keeping your work life separate from everything else. Your project has officially come to a close, raking in more revenue for Wangsheng than anyone expected. 

Today, you’re scheduled to give a speech addressing everyone’s efforts in the company’s conference room – something that you’re a bit reluctant to do because you know Zhongli is going to be there, too. The idea of him looking at you from the crowd with none of the adoration he used to give so freely is enough to make your stomach turn.

But still, you compose yourself. You’re no stranger to adversity, so seeing your boyfriend (can you even still call him that?) in a crowded room is the least of your problems. 

At least, that’s what you thought.

When Director Hu Tao calls you up to the platform, you're raring to go – practicing with deep breaths as you repeat the gist of your speech inside your head. You made sure to cake your face with a heavier layer of makeup this time around because the last thing you need is for her to pull you to the side and scold you for still refusing to feed. 

But the moment you get up from your seat, the world suddenly tilts to the side – your vision going black within seconds.

The last thing you remember is being whisked into a pair of strong arms. You want to curl your fingers in the fabric of his coat, to apologize a million times over, but the familiar scent of his clothes is enough to put you straight to sleep. 

“Goodness, miss. You had us terrified back there.”

Ganyu is sitting by your bed in the infirmary when you regain consciousness, wiping the tears off her face with a dainty handkerchief. You mumble a half-hearted apology, but immediately seize up when you see Zhongli leaning against the wall in front of you. 

“The nurse told us she suspected that you might have an eating disorder,” the secretary continues, rubbing your hand comfortingly. “It did seem like you were pushing yourself harder than usual during the last few weeks. You should really take care of yourself more.”

An eating disorder…? Well, if depriving yourself of your required sustenance can be translated into a human affliction, you suppose that was the most obvious counterpart. Still, you’re still feeling a bit too groggy for conversation, so instead of addressing Ganyu’s plight, you sink further into the mattress.

You can feel his gaze on your pitiful form – those eyes of endless gold. But you’re too much of a coward to face him when you’ve been reduced into such a state.

A little while later, you hear the door to the infirmary swing open. Is it odd that you can tell that the newcomer is Hu Tao based on the sound of her footsteps alone?

“Leave us,” she says sternly – addressing both Ganyu and Zhongli at the same time. “There’s something I need to discuss with her.”

You half-expect Zhongli to complain, or at least contest the director’s orders. But your heart sinks when he resigns himself to what he’s told, quietly ushering himself and his secretary out of the room.

Hu Tao waits for about two more minutes before speaking again.

“You better feed now or you’re going to die for real.”

“...But –”

“I can’t have you dying on my watch just because you’re being stubborn about it,” Hu Tao nearly snaps – eyes alight with rage. “Feed now. I don’t care who it is, just do it. I won’t let you out of this place until you’ve gotten better.”

To say that you’re terrified is putting it lightly. You’ve never seen Hu Tao get angry before, but the absolute urgency in her gaze – practically begging you to please just save yourself – makes you consider her request. 

“Okay,” you say quietly, only surrendering because you can’t save Guizhong if you’re dead. “See you in a bit.”

‘A bit’ is a lie that you didn’t really mean to tell. When you entered the crossroads of the dreamscape, you didn’t bother picking targets anymore. You slipped into the dream of a man who’s probably in his thirties, intent on just getting him off, sucking out some energy for yourself before making your leave. 

But no matter how many times you attempt to drive him to an orgasm, you don’t feel yourself getting any better. The energy that always emanates out of a man post-coitus is nowhere to be found. 

You switch targets faster than you can even blink. This time, it’s a boy that’s probably fresh out of high school, and you feel a bit horrible for having to trespass like this. But instead of fretting about common decency in a goddamn dream , you make him come about two consecutive times before realizing that –

This isn’t working, you mutter to yourself. Why the hell isn’t it working?

You’ve always had a hard time harnessing energy from strangers, yes. However, those instances granted you at least a tiny ounce of energy that could stem the hunger for a while. Now, you’re getting absolutely nothing.

It seems that Hu Tao is already privy to your dilemma when you wake up in your own body. 

“I’m going to put him to sleep,” she decides with a vexed sigh. “Make sure you get enough energy to last you for an entire year, got that? No meddling with anything else.”

“W-Wait,” you croak out, and damn, you feel even weaker than before. “What do you mean you’re going to put him to sleep? Are you talking about Zhongli?”

“Who else could I be talking about, little devil?” The director rolls her eyes. “Now, I’m going to ask you to pretend I’m not about to do something illegal and just rest. The moment you fall asleep, get into Zhongli’s head and feed. Okay?”

You don’t even get a chance to respond to Hu Tao’s words because you’re already nodding. Your bones feel like lead, limbs feel like they’ll fall off any minute. If you stay conscious any longer, your eyes might just dry out. 

It doesn’t take five minutes for you to fall asleep again. And as you drift aimlessly in the depths of your subconscious, a part of you that’s still coherent anticipates that it might take a while before you find Zhongli’s dreamscape. You’re not sure how long ‘putting him to sleep’ is going to be, but surprisingly, your existence is abruptly transported to the familiar marshlands of Dihua. 

You chalk it up to how often you’ve been hopping into Zhongli’s dreams, but you immediately notice that something isn’t right. The skies have turned into an ashen gray color – columns of smoke rising in several locations at once. When you gaze around, all you see are the fallen bodies of both soldiers and monsters alike. 

Rex. You need to find Rex Lapis.

That’s your very first instinct once your consciousness fully pulls through, careful to step over the decaying corpses as you mutter a silent prayer for each one. But just when you thought you’re going to end up tripping on one of them, you watch in equal parts horror and confusion when you witness your leg pass through the carcass of a dead monster.

All it takes is a single glance down for you to know that you’re no longer inside Guizhong’s body. Instead, you drift around as an apparition of sorts – arms, legs, and torso appearing less saturated than usual. It’s like you’ve become a transparent cut-out, and you give yourself a minute to think about what the hell was going on. This has never happened in your previous feedings. You’ve always been able to maintain your form, despite the numerous instances you’ve hopped in between dreamscapes. 

In the distance, however, you find the answer to all of your questions.

You spot them amidst the debris left behind by the battle. Rex Lapis kneels at the side of the most beautiful woman you’ve seen in your life – cradling her frail body in his arms as golden tears flowed forth from his eyes. It’s the first time he’s surrendered the unmovable visage you’ve gotten so used to seeing in this dream. Gone is the unfeeling, uncaring God of Contracts who felled his own enemies like it was as easy as breathing. In his place is a man who only wanted to live with the person he adored the most.

Guizhong’s pale skin is overrun by dark lacerations that look like black veins rooted into the surface. Her own eyes glisten with tears as she reaches up to cradle Zhongli’s face. She says something that you don’t hear over the wind howling in your ears, but you don’t let yourself remain stagnant for a second longer. 

You run straight to them with what little strength you can muster – intent on shaking Guizhong by the shoulders to scream, “No! This isn’t how things were supposed to be! You were supposed to live. I was supposed to save you!”

But none of these messages get across to either of the two. To them, you’re nothing but the breeze on their skin – violently whipping all around as the war only worsened. There aren’t any clear winners here, this is becoming clear to you. But as the God of Dust heaves her final breath, you hear Guizhong speak for the last time.

“Thank you… For honoring our contract,” she sighs, blood dribbling down the sides of her mouth as she forces herself to smile. In her hand, she lifts up a stone dumbbell with a complicated structure – something you’ve never seen before despite all the time you spent in her body.

“This is the mark of our pledge, and it is also my challenge to you.” Guizhong hands it to him shakily, still careful despite being on death’s doorstep. “All my wisdom is contained inside. If you can unlock it –”

She never gets to finish the words. A loud clap of thunder booms across the marsh – deafening even when you don’t have the body in this dream to perceive the sensation. Zhongli makes a mistake of letting the noise distract him, because when he glances at Guizhong once more, the woman he loves has already crumbled in his arms. 

Once the dust settles over the war-torn battlefield, Rex Lapis rises back to his feet. You can see the weight of his grief in the way his golden hands tremble at his sides. But just as quickly as his lover’s passing, he summons his polearm back in his hands – thrusting the hilt into the ground hard enough to break through the barren soil. The God of Contracts lets out a monstrous shout – terror rooting itself into your being. The sound is fearsome. Inescapable. 

And with a single twist of his hand, the earth starts to shake beneath your feet.

Xingqiu arrives at Hu Tao’s quarters faster than she anticipated, blue eyes startled to see the two bodies resting on top of her bed. The director pays his reaction no mind, though. Instead, she fills him in on the situation.

“I had my guards carry these two up here,” she explains, pointing a finger interchangeably at you and Zhongli. “That guy, I drugged to put him to sleep so she can get inside his dreams for sustenance. But it’s been about three hours, and neither of them are waking up.”

“What? She still hasn’t fed?” The incubus asks incredulously. “It’s been almost a month since I last saw her. Back then, she was already starving. Don’t tell me she’s been holding out all this time.”

“You’d be surprised at the lengths that stubbornness can take a person,” Hu Tao chuckles, leaning back into her seat as she twists some of the rings on her fingers. 

Xingqiu lets out a long, exasperated exhale as he sits by the bed – watching you and your so-called boyfriend doze soundly next to the other. But your deathly pale complexion doesn’t escape his notice. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve assumed you were dead.

“While I am very concerned about my friend’s destructive behavior,” he begins, casting a sidelong glance at the Wangsheng director. “I’m more curious about why you’re helping them in the first place. It’s not like you to meddle in things that are none of your business to begin with. And yet…”

Hu Tao sighs. She’s been hanging around this demon boy from the Guhua clan for too long. He can already discern what’s normal and unusual for her behavior, and she isn’t really a fan of being perceived like that.

But unwittingly, his words got her thinking.

“Remember how you pulled me out of the in-between when I tried to reach out to Grandfather in the afterlife? I nearly died because of it,” she sighs, remembering her past experiences with meddling none-too-fondly. “I can’t just stand here and watch my subordinate slowly kill herself the same way when I know someone who can help.”

Xingqiu sighs again. “Director, I’m an incubus, not a miracle worker. Us crossing paths at the in-between was nothing but a coincidence… But then again, that’s the same way I met her back then, too.” He casts your ghastly form a wistful glance. If he’d known that divulging information about your lover’s past memories would lead to this, he never would’ve said a word. 

“I need you to fetch both of them before they get trapped in their own dreams. I’ll fork over whatever amount you like,” Hu Tao proposes, her usually playful demeanor now replaced by something more grim. “Just – please. Save them.”

“...That’s a really tall order, you know?” The incubus shakes his head in disbelief. “The in-between is the last place I’d want to hang around, but this woman is my friend, too. You don’t have to cough up any –”

To both their surprise (and relief), Zhongli seizes up on the bed, sitting upright as he gasps for breath. Hu Tao uncharacteristically scrambles to hand him a glass of water, which he empties in the span of five seconds. But even if the sight of your boyfriend rousing himself from the dream is a good thing, Xingqiu notices how you’re yet to follow suit.

It seems that Zhongli followed his line of sight as well, and both him and Hu Tao can practically hear the sound of his heart plummeting straight to his stomach at the sight of you. 

“No,” he murmurs, a shaky hand reaching up to caress your face. “Not again…”

Again?

“Xingqiu, change of plans,” Hu Tao calls out softly as she meets his eyes. She doesn’t even need to elaborate further for him to understand. 

“What plan are you talking about?” Zhongli interrupts with a hard frown. “What did you do to her?”

“Oi, consultant. Don’t go accusing the people that are trying to help,” Hu Tao snarks, shooting him a dirty look. “We’re running out of time, so I’m going to give you the abridged version. Your girlfriend? She’s trapped in some place called the in-between. It’s the space that separates dreams from reality; the afterlife from the human realm.”

“But if she’s really trapped in your dream, she should’ve woken up at the same time you did,” Xingqiu adds. “That’s why I’m assuming she wandered too far and got herself stranded in your memories instead.”

“...My memories?” 

The director nods. “Yup. And unless she finds the key in her own subconscious and escapes on her own or someone else enters the same dreamscape and helps her…”

“She’ll be trapped in there forever.”

Both director and incubus stare at the poor man expectantly, wondering how he’ll take the information they just dumped on him. Xingqiu wouldn’t be surprised to see him call them a bunch of lunatics before contacting the authorities for the unsightly method Hu Tao employed just to get him to sleep. But Zhongli is strangely composed, nodding once, twice before turning to his half-dead lover.

“Tell me what I need to do,” he says quietly. In turn, Xingqiu breathes out another sigh in relief as Hu Tao claps her hands together gleefully.

“That’s the spirit, consultant!” The director beams. “Now let’s save your girlfriend, yeah?”

You didn’t want any of this.

The sounds of a never-ending battle rages on outside – the impact of gods fighting to the death causing your temporary shelter to quake where you hide yourself away. The cave you took refuge in resembles the one you woke up in the first time you attempted to feed on Zhongli, but you don’t bother making comparisons. Not that it matters. You’re nothing but a ghost anyways – unable to go back from whence you came, and unable to go to the next place you’re supposed to be.

Still, you didn’t want to bear witness to Zhongli slaughtering hundreds in mere seconds. You’ve seen him fight before – he’s always fought valiantly in this war especially when Guizhong was by his side. But now that she’s gone, the God of Contracts is nothing but a husk of a man.

All that’s left is a bloodthirsty killing machine that intends to paint the land in the angry red of his grief.

Despite how hopeless your situation is, you can’t help but pray to whoever’s listening. You want them to remind Rex Lapis of the dream he once shared with Guizhong – to build a nation by the harbor, where no gods nor monsters can hope to harm the Guili Assembly. But as long as he continues his onslaught of carnage, that dream will never be realized.

Then, you think about the Zhongli that’s waiting for you back home.

Regret is the first emotion that occurs in your ephemeral form. You wish you could have apologized for that night – for assuming that he still isn’t over his dead ex-lover. For attempting to alter memories that aren’t truly his own for the sake of your own ego. 

For never saying how much you loved him before disappearing for good. 

If only you communicated with him normally like a proper girlfriend should. If only you didn’t assume the worst about him just because he once loved someone more than he loved you sometime ago. 

You’ve heard of incidents where succubi and incubi aren’t able to wake up from their feedings. It’s either they’re trapped in an unstable human’s dream or trapped in their own because of internal instability. You don’t know exactly how to classify your situation, but you suppose that the reason why you can’t wake yourself up is because of Guizhong.

She became your vessel in these memories during your first successful feeding. And since then, you’ve used her body to traverse the strange land that she and Rex Lapis supposedly hold dominion over. But regardless of how careful you were with Guizhong, she still died. There was nothing you could do to change something that was already set in stone, and instead you lost your way back to where you truly belonged.

For someone who claims to hate her own heritage as a succubus, this just goes to show how much you actually relied on your powers.

Gods. This fucking sucks.

You can only imagine how devastated Zhongli would feel to find your lifeless body in the real world – clutching you to his chest the same way Rex did with Guizhong. Two girlfriends dying on him in the span of six years. You wonder if he’ll ever love again.

…If Zhongli was in your place, he would have spoken to you the moment he felt uneasy about your past. He would’ve asked for some reassurance so he wouldn’t have to worry like this. 

He never would’ve tried to change you.

He would’ve told you that he trusted you.  

You miss him so much that it tears you from the inside out. If only you can see him again – see that beautiful smile again – you’d hold him tight and tell him a million times. 

You’d tell him you were a coward. That you were too afraid of splitting his affections with a woman who doesn’t even exist anymore. 

But…it’s too late for all that now, isn’t it? 

Helplessly, you pull up your barely-there knees to your chest, burying your face in between as you make yourself smaller. You want to cry yourself hoarse, but the tears never come. All you can do is sit alone in the darkness, where you can only dream of someone finding you in the middle of the chaos.

You’re too caught up in your own sorrow to discern the beam of light that splinters through the darkness. You don’t notice the man that steps into the in-between with you; don’t notice as he approaches. It’s only when you feel the familiar sensation of a large, comforting hand on your shoulder that you snap out of your misery.

“There you are,” Zhongli – your Zhongli – breathes out. 

When you finally wake up, you feel like someone brought you back from the dead.

You can barely breathe without it feeling like the oxygen is ripping your lungs to shreds. But before you can asphyxiate yourself, a familiar figure hands you a glass of water, along with a handful of dried leaves. You glance up at Hu Tao in confusion as she stares at you nonchalantly. 

“You were in the in-between for gods-know how long,” the director reminds you. “Go chew on those to recover.”

“...I was what?”

“You were as good as dead.” The sound of Xingqiu’s familiar voice makes you jump, but the incubus simply turns the page on his novel from where he’s seated by the foot of the unfamiliar bed. “I’ve heard of succubi going a few weeks without food, but two months? Do you have a death wish?”

Your head is spinning from all the whiplash, and you actually take Hu Tao’s advice and drink some water before chewing on her magic leaves. But when you notice that there’s someone else occupying the mattress with you, your heart soars with relief.

“Hello,” Zhongli greets you.

“Hi,” you greet him back.

In your peripheral, you can see Hu Tao mouthing something you can’t decipher to Xingqiu – a message that your incubus friend is quick to pick up on before the two of them step out of the room to give you more privacy. Now that you noticed it, you were probably taken up to the director’s quarters at some point during your coma. Either way, once the door clicks shut, it’s just you and Zhongli – the first time you’ve been alone with him since that night in your apartment.

“I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, isn’t it?” you say nervously, unsure where you should even begin. But you suppose an apology is a good starting point. “I’m…sorry. For everything.”

Zhongli sighs, sitting up right to pull you in a tight hug. The abruptness of the gesture makes you drop the leaves on the bed, stunning you into complete silence.

“I thought I lost you,” he nearly chokes – a sound that you never would’ve imagined Zhongli making. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

The pure anguish in his voice makes your heart clench, and now that you have a body that actually lets you feel things, you’re finally given the familiar sensation of eyes stinging with tears. You return Zhongli’s embrace with equal fervor – letting yourself sob into the hollow of his neck.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you babble, chest seizing with tremors as you curl your fingers into his hair. “I never should’ve hidden the truth about me. I never should’ve meddled with the past. And… I never should’ve questioned the way you feel about me.”

You can feel Zhongli’s erratic pulse against your chest, and you find the fact that it’s possible for his heart to race a relief to know. When he pulls away, his cheeks are wet with tears – not the golden liquid that poured from Rex Lapis’ eyes, but the very same tears that you’re crying right this second.

This is your Zhongli. This is the man you fell in love with. 

You wonder why you even tried to change a past he experienced in a different life – knowing full well just how different he is from the God of Contracts.

“I love you,” you murmur, pressing your forehead against his. “Zhongli, I love you.” 

“And as I do you,” he breathes. “The director and the Guhua boy have already informed me of your…special circumstances, but I’d like to hear the tale of your escapades in my dreams some other time.”

You pause. “So you don’t want me to explain why I did everything I did?”

“Of course I do.” Zhongli shakes his head. “But…I was also told that you’ve been depriving yourself of sustenance for nearly two months now. As your lover, I’m inclined to help you out of your predicaments, yes?”

Oh. Oh.

“B-But we’re in the director’s room…” you tell him bashfully, feeling a surge of heat creep up your neck. “And I owe you a proper explanation for –”

He promptly shuts you up with a kiss. The nerve of this guy!

“Darling, will you allow me to make love to you?” he murmurs the words against your lips, already pulling you to his lap. “Properly this time.”

You know you should snap him out of it and insist that you’re fine. That you’ll last another day without sex if that means you can sufficiently explain yourself because Zhongli deserves as much. But you remember, at that moment, that you’re particularly weak when he starts to trail featherlight kisses along your neck. Zhongli knows this as well as you do, and you can feel him smile triumphantly when you let out a sigh in defeat. 

He doesn’t bother removing your clothes; practically tearing a hole into your pantyhose at his impatience. You balk at him for doing such a thing, but Zhongli promises to buy you another set once everything is settled. 

“Do you find it strange that I’m terribly aroused despite everything that happened?” he asks you, hauling his cock out of his unzipped trousers as he gives it a few pumps. 

“Not at all,” you respond in kind. “I’ve always thought you were hornier than you seemed. It’s always the prim and proper ones, you know?”

You bite your lip as you grind your clothed cunt against his hardening length, feeling your desire pool in between your thighs at the mere thought of him inside you. Zhongli bites down his laughter, nuzzling the crook of your neck as he spreads you open on his lap.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Nudging your underwear aside, you sink yourself onto his thick length with a blissful sigh – feeling his cockhead hitting all the right spots. Zhongli plants his palms firmly on your hips, barely able to contain the hunger in his eyes as he watches you bounce on top of his dick. Your skirt hikes further up your thighs with each downward plunge, and your lover cares to swallow your moans with an open-mouthed kiss.

You all but muffle a scream into his lips when you feel Zhongli thrusting his hips up to meet the cadence of your movements. Tears catch in the lines of your lashes from how good it feels, and you nearly come right then and there when he pulls away to whisper in your ear.

“I’m going to fill you to the brim,” he promises. “My seed will drip down your thighs from here on out so you’ll never forget where you belong.”

“By your side?” you whisper, purposely clenching your walls around his length to elicit a reaction.

Zhongli grunts in approval, much to your amusement. “By my side.” 

He switches things up at the last minute, flipping you over so that you’re lying down on the bed. You open your mouth to protest, but Zhongli is already pressing your knees against your thighs – plunging his cock into the velvet heat of your cunt as he hits it deeper than before. 

“I’d gladly fuck you everyday if that means you’ll never starve again,” your lover tells you with a growl, golden irises boring deep into your own. “Would you like that? Would you like me to sate your needs?”

“Yes,” you mewl as your fingers rake across his back. “Yes, yes yes! I only want you, Zhongli. Please –”

Your climax blindsides you out of nowhere, cunt squeezing around his cock impossibly tight. You screw your eyes shut, burying your face in his shoulder as your body shudders and trembles from the force of it. Zhongli, however, is intent on taking advantage of your vulnerable state. He doesn’t relent – just continues pounding you into the bed as he chases his own high.

“You’re the only one I love,” he tells you all of a sudden, momentarily pulling you out of your lustful haze. “You might not be the first, but you’ll certainly be the last.”

“Stop saying cheesy things while you’re fucking my brains out,” you moan. “You’re going to make me cry…”

“Heh, that’s the point.”

As promised, Zhongli finishes inside you with a shuddering sigh – and you feel the surge of his hot seed painting your insides. You’ve never felt so satisfied after having real sex with a real human, but when you’re actually in love with the person you’re sleeping with, you suppose there’s lots of room for exceptions.

“So why were you chasing ghosts that don’t even haunt me anymore?” 

You finish the rest of the water that Hu Tao offered earlier when Zhongli asks you the million-dollar question. Your heart twists with both guilt and apprehension, but you know that this is the best time to lay the truth on the table. 

“I was…bothered when you called me by the thing that Rex Lapis called Guizhong the goddess in your dreams,” you admit. “I thought you were thinking about Guizhong your ex while you were with me.”

Zhongli nods as he fixes his own clothes, an unreadable look settling on his face. “Rex Lapis…is the identity I had in a past life, isn’t it? And Guizhong was his lover.” 

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t explain why you tried to alter my memories, though,” he points out.

“Well, I thought if I could lessen the pain of your memories of Guizhong, you’d stop thinking about her and start thinking about me.” Gods, you sound like such a fucking brat. “That – That was really childish of me. I’m sorry. I even got the director and Xingqiu involved because of my own impulsiveness…”

“If you look at it that way then, yes. It is very childish of you. But I think that just goes to show how deeply you feel about me,” Zhongli suggests with a handsome smile, reaching out to hold your hand in his. “You want me to look at you, and only you?” 

“Of course I do,” you mumble. “You want me to do the same for you, right? I’m just trying to make things even…”

Your lover lets out another laugh, raising your hand to his lips as he places a soft kiss on your skin. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to Zhongli’s show of affection.

“Guizhong…is a person who’s near and dear to me even now,” he says, going off a tangent as he rubs comforting circles into your wrist. “But do you know the last thing she told me before she passed?” 

You shake your head. “What?”

“That I shouldn’t chain myself to the past, no matter how painful it is to carry on,” Zhongli continues. “My life here is much simpler than the life Rex Lapis lived. I have no idea what you saw in my – rather, his memories to make you assume that the same applies for me. But I assure you that I’m not a man who’ll punish himself by constantly mulling over what-ifs and could-have-beens.

“All that matters is the present, and what I choose to do now, while you’re still by my side.”

…Damn it. You’re feeling the waterworks again.

“What did I do to deserve you?” you whisper, squeezing his hand just to make sure he was real.

“That, I’m afraid I can’t answer,” he chuckles. “But, on the topic of your immeasurable love, the Guhua boy imparted another interesting piece of information before lending me his powers to save you.”

“...Wait, I’ve been wondering how you got inside the in-between,” you tell him. “So it was Xingqiu? How the hell did he do that?”

“Darling, please refrain from asking questions I don’t have answers to.”

“Fine, fine. What did he say that was so interesting then?”

Zhongli laughs, and something about the shift in his tone makes you narrow your eyes in suspicion. “Director Hu said you tried to harvest energy from other men while you were on the brink of death but it didn’t work. Xingqiu informed us that when your kind starts to feel strongly about a certain human, you won’t be able to harness energy anywhere else apart from that person.”

“...Why do I feel like you’re just gloating now?”

“That’s because I am.”

The sound of the door sliding abruptly catches your attention. Hu Tao emerges from the entrance as she claps her hands loudly. “Alright, that’s enough lovey-dovey chit-chat. I’m going to have the maids launder my sheets first before I sleep in them tonight!”

Your face flushes with embarrassment. “Director Hu Tao, I –”

“Aiya! No apologies. It’s all good,” she insists. “But hey, consultaaant~ Now that I let you and your girlfriend have reunion sex in my quarters, you’re not going to press any charges for assault, will you?”

“Wait, what charges?” Your gaze darts between the two of them curiously.

Zhongli drags a palm over his face, as if having just realized something terrible. “In order to help you get into my dreams, the director laced my tea with a potent drug. I was unconscious for quite some time. But I won’t press any charges, since I have little patience for the tedium of the Liyue Police Station.”

“Aww, you’re the best!” Hu Tao gushes before turning to you. “By the way, Xingqiu already went ahead, but he asked me to give you this.” 

You blink as Hu Tao hands you a sleek black business card with the words “Dr. Paimon” printed with embossed lettering. Zhongli peers over your shoulder, examining the card with the same degree of curiosity.

“He didn’t really elaborate, but rumor has it, that person can turn you into a normal human,” the director explains, smiling with intent. “I figured that since you’re probably gonna want to spend the rest of your life with the old man, you’d want to give up your immortality.”

Immortality… A staple that comes with being a succubus. It’s one of the most fundamental reasons why your kind fed on sexual energy in the first place, yet you never stopped to think of your future if you stayed immortal, while Zhongli continues to age with the passage of time. 

You won’t be able to start a family with him; have his children; grow old with him. Because that’s the fate that your kind has long been cursed with since they first walked the earth. But now, you’re given a way out – even if it sounds too good to be true.

You’re afraid to look at Zhongli. You feel like you should accept the offer, but everything that transpired today is just so overwhelming that you’re not sure if you can make the right choice…

But as always, he’s here to support you.

“You don’t have to make a decision now,” he reminds. “We still have work tomorrow, so I suggest we head home and rest first. I’m sure that can wait.”

…Being thrust back into the nightmare that is the Liyuen corporate ladder after nearly dying in the in-between. Way to maintain a sense of normalcy, Zhongli. 

Well, ‘normal’ is the best thing that the universe can give to you right now. Too bad you’re not selfless enough to deny the one thing you’ve been craving after all this time.

“Miss? Here’s the tea you asked for.”

Ganyu’s voice flits through your ears like a calming breeze. She places your drink on your desk – just behind a plaque that reads Wangsheng Corporation - Consultant. The scent of freshly brewed qingxin petals wafts to your nose and you feel every nerve ending in your body relax at the more aroma.

“Thank you,” you tell her kindly. “You’re right. This tea really does work miracles.”

Your secretary hides a giggle behind her hand. “Both Lady Ningguang and Mister Zhongli became fond of it when I started working for them. I figured it would be the same with you.”

The golden band on your finger seems to glint in the sunlight streaming into your office as you take a few sips. You used to think that tea was nothing but leaf water, but if you have someone like Zhongli for a husband, you’re bound to start appreciating the finer things in life – Ganyu’s herbal remedy included.

“Oh, that reminds me,” she perks up. “Is the director coming back soon? I heard that four months is already a good time to check for the gender.”

You’re a bit surprised by her words, but Ganyu has always exhibited her excitement for the budding life in your womb the moment you made the announcement a few months back. 

“Zhongli’s secretary told me he should be home by the end of the week,” you tell her kindly, free hand instinctively going to the slight swell of your belly. “Once we figure out whether it’s a boy or a girl, I promise you’re the first person we’ll inform.”

She gasps. “You really mean that, miss?”

“Why not? You’re the godmother after all~”

Once Ganyu recovers from the initial shock from being assigned as your child’s godmother, you’re left to your lonesome once more. 

It’s been six months since Hu Tao stepped down as the director for Wangsheng Corporation – passing the title onto Zhongli – and six months since you’ve held office as the company’s new consultant. At times, you still find it strange, how you’re the one giving advice with regards to your husband’s dealings with other businesses. But you remind yourself that everything happens all in due time. 

Your old life as a succubus is way behind you now, but there are moments where you still think of what happened to Rex Lapis after Guizhong’s death. Did he get killed by the other gods? Did he lead the Guili Assembly to the harbor? What happened to the stone dumbbell Guizhong gave to him? You’ll never know now that you’ve lost the ability to travel through dreams. 

But in the back of your head, you hoped he was able to find some sort of deliverance from the pain induced by his lover’s passing.

In the midst of your contemplation, your phone buzzes with a text – one that you’re quick to open.

Zhongli [10:54]: I’m boarding the plane at Fontaine National Airport right now. Should be back by tonight :)

Huh. That was earlier than expected.

Me [10:54] We’ll be waiting with a nice bottle of osmanthus ^__^

Zhongli [10:55]: Darling, please. Drinking is bad for the baby

Me [10:55]: One glass won’t cause genetic disorders, Zhongli.

Zhongli [10:56]: Very well… I’ll still make sure to watch your consumption though.

Me [10:56]: Fine by me <3 Take care on the way back. I love you.

Zhongli [11:15]: Sorry, just got past a checkpoint. I love you, too.

You put away your phone with a sigh, tracing the rim of your teacup absentmindedly. For good measure, you pinch your cheek the same way Hu Tao used to do when she was still in charge – just to make sure you’re not dreaming. 

But the baby is intent on helping you out with that when you feel it kick a bit too hard against your navel.

“Okay, point taken,” you mumble. 

A year ago, you wouldn’t have pictured yourself carrying a human child – much more picturing yourself as a human. But you learned that time is kind to those who wait. It’s just as Zhongli said: regardless of everything that happened in the past, what’s important is what you do now in the present. 

And to you, that’s all that matters. 

★ MASTERLIST . AO3 ★

© cryoculus | kaientai ✧ all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my work on other platforms without permission.

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

Hank Voight x IAD!Reader

Synopsis: reader is an IAD an agent tracking Voight, but when Voight is gentle with a child, reader has second thoughts, later, when reader later gets into trouble, Voight is there for them.

TW: mentions of abuse, rape and suicide

Voight knew something was up. He was perceptive like that - smart. He knew you were tailing him when he ran a red light on purpose. It meant you had to stop. To not seem suspicious. Good thing you had his GPS location.

You continued tailing him as he drove. Originally, he seemed to be heading home, but now he was leading you away, to the outskirts of the city. You considered for a moment, asking yourself whether you should keep on him or just let him go and cut it as a loss. He was moving further and further out of the city, and seemed to be moving toward the silos.

You followed.

When you arrived, he was leaning against the side of his SUV, hands crossed over his chest. He watched as your car pulled up, his eyes staring into your soul, or so you felt, despite him not being able to see you yet.

You let out a soft breath, then got out of your car, walking around to the other side. “Sergeant Hank Voight,” you said with a hum. “Pleasure to finally meet you.”

“You could’ve come to my office, you know. You didn’t have to follow me all the way out here.”

“This is where you buried Kevin Bingham, right?” You abruptly changed the subject, cocking an eyebrow.

“If you know about that, then I’m sure you’ve read the report. There wasn’t any body found here.”

“It’s really funny how your buddy took the fall for that. Shame he had to lose his life over it.”

Voight visibly tensed, and you knew you hit a nerve. He looked you over. “Do you have a point to this?”

“I’m (Y/N), your new IAD agent.”

“And?” He looked back up to your eyes. “What is it you want? Doesn’t it say in my file that I don’t make deals with IAD anymore?”

You hummed, then nodded, taking a step closer to him. “Your file… has a lot of interesting things. The last few IAD agents ended up either resigning or arrested, right? Trust me, you won’t run me away.”

His lips pulled into a sly smile. “We’ll see how you feel about that in a few months. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

With that, the both of you got into your vehicles and parted ways. You were ready for the challenge that was Hank Voight. You were going to be the one to catch him in the act.

— —

The day finally came when Voight made a mistake. Looking over a few of his arrest reports, some things didn’t line up. You studied them, and recreated the cases as closely as you could, tracking his every move. You knew none of his team would flip on him to tell you what happened for sure, but you had dirt on a few of the beat cops that had been around. You could piece together a timeline based on their statements and what you knew. “Gotcha,” you whispered, before gathering everything and putting it into a neat case file, a small smirk pulling at your lips. Finally, you’d gotten Voight. Finally, you’d take him out of his job.

.

When you arrived on scene to find him, you had every intention of making a huge show of his arrest. However, after talking to his people, you realized Voight was inside a house they’d previously thought to be rigged with a bomb. Bomb squad confirmed it was safe and Voight had gone inside. You couldn’t be stopped by any of the nearby officers, simply opening the door to step inside.

The sight all but shocked you. A boy, sitting in a taped square with a laser pointer on his chest. He was upset, saying how he couldn’t leave the square otherwise the house would explode. One of the detectives, Upton, was sitting on the opposite side of the room. Voight was crouching, facing toward the boy. His back was to you, but he focused on giving the boy soft reassurance that there was no bomb.

Something inside you crumbled, tears brimming your eyes. Just like when you were little and scared, mistreated by people, and someone, a cop, came to your rescue. Voight was rescuing the little boy. You couldn’t help but melt at the sight. You watched intently as Vought coaxed the boy up and out of the square, then embraced him tightly, as if he were his own son.

With that, you swallowed hard and walked out of the house quickly, getting in your car and leaving without a word or even a look to anyone. How could you arrest him now? Knowing how gentle he was, and knowing that he really only did hurt bad people, how could you be so cold hearted? He saved so many women and children over the years. How could you take him off the streets?

You couldn’t, and Voight knew it. It was your weakness.

— —

“Hey, you work with that Voight character from the 21st, right?”

You glanced up at his name. He’d been more of a side project the last few months. You documented everything but took on other projects, ones that didn’t put as much guilt on your heart. “Yeah, I’m on Voight. What’s going on?”

“You’re going to want to see this.” Your coworker walked in and handed you a file speculating Voight shot a perpetrator out of revenge - an unarmed perpetrator, to be precise. All of the video in the file showed Voight shooting the man point blank. You nearly cringed, thanking your coworker and shooing them away.

You knew you could get Voight on this, but it weighed heavily on you. You needed to get a meeting with him, off the books, right away.

.

Later that night, you stood outside in the Chicago cold. Your eyes ran over the water, searching for answers. You still had no idea what to do. Do you take him in? Or, do you let him continue to go off the rails? Isn’t that why you have a job in the first place?

Voight wasn’t like other cops you worked with. He was older and more experienced, but most of all, he had this knack for always getting a specific outcome - one that always protected himself, even at the cost of others. Alvin Olinsky came to your mind pretty quickly as you pondered it. You hadn’t been on the case, but reading over the case files was the better part of your first week in the role. Olinsky had died in Voight’s place, to protect Voight from jail time and losing his job. To keep the intelligence unit alive.

You were pulled out of thought as an SUV rolled up, LEDs flashing past you, then turning off. He got out and walked over, his hands in his jacket pockets. “What was so important?”

You hummed and handed him the Manila folder of evidence. “Don’t worry. Nothing’s on book. Yet. This conversation will determine if this little ‘incident’ is included in the report.” You hummed as you gave Voight the ultimatum, taking the folder back when he was finished with it.

“You know, the last people to hang things over my head like this ended up in jail.”

“I’m clean, Voight. There’s nothing you can put me in on. Besides, I’m here to help you.”

“Help me?” He laughed mockingly. “Help me with what? I don’t need your help.”

“You do, because if anyone sees the footage on that disk, you’ll be doing life for murder.” You shook your head. “Like I said, nothing is on book yet.”

“So what’s your bargain, then?”

You looked back out over the water, taking it in for a moment before looking back to him. “You owe me. That’s all.”

Voight considered it, looking you over. “So that’s it? All you want is a favor in the bank?”

“Mmhm,” you affirmed quietly. “Can you manage that?”

“And what will happen to that footage?”

You turned back to the water, leaning on the railing. “It’ll show exactly what it needs to, making this whole thing cut and dry.”

Voight moved beside you, also leaning over the railing to look out to the water. “Alright, then. I owe you.”

You nodded a little, standing at the water for a minute more, though you weren’t sure why. You moved to stand, but his voice kept you in place. “That guy orchestrated the kill on Al.”

You didn’t look up. “I know. That’s why you’re being investigated like this. You and Al were close. There are a lot of people higher than me that want to put you away.”

“And you don’t?”

You sighed, looking to him now. “I came to arrest you a few months ago. Something petty you probably could’ve weaseled your way out of anyways. I wanted to be the one to take the trophy. To make a big show of it.” You shook your head, looking him over as he met your eyes. “And then I saw you with that little boy. I reevaluated. What was truly important? The methods in which things are done, or the people that are ultimately saved?” You shrugged a little.

“That’s why you’ve been off my back, then? Had my file tossed to the side?”

“I’ve still been collecting and doing my job. There’s just not much to go on. You cover your tracks really well.”

Voight hummed and looked back out to the water. “You know, I’ve looked into you, too. I have favors in the ivory tower.”

“I know,” you replied with a soft shrug. “I have nothing to hide. You could’ve asked me anything.”

“That’s exactly what they told me,” he said with a soft chuckle, standing upright now to face you. “But, I did read into your file, and your history. I even talked to Officer Buchanan.”

You nodded, looking away at the name as you remembered him. The man who had saved your life. The officer who had rolled onto the scene first when you were on the ledge, trying to find the courage to jump.

Every fiber of self-preservation in your body told you not to, but your mind pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You wanted to die. You needed to. You were a burden. You swallowed a sob, tears streaking down your cheeks. You heard a door behind you open, and you looked back to see a single CPD officer. He was standing in the doorway, putting his hands up. “Hey, I just want to talk.”

“I’m done talking. Nobody listens. It’s too late now. People should’ve listened when I spoke up years ago!” You sobbed, shaking your head. You were 25, and had been mistreated for years. Nobody listened to you, seeing as you were the spouse of a politician. “Leave me alone. Just go back to where you came from. It’s too late for me.” You wiped the tears from your eyes, your entire body trembling.

“It’s not too late. It never is. I’m here to listen to you now. I wish I’d met you earlier. I would’ve listened. Sometimes all it takes is the right person.”

For over an hour, you went back and forth with the officer, who you later learned was named Richard Buchanan. He became a close friend of yours after you got out of therapy, and even let you stay with him for a while until you got back on your feet. He lived alone, so your company was welcomed. He had never been married or had kids, thinking the job was too dangerous to put someone through the grief. You had mirrored that sentiment when you joined the academy, pushing away any and all romantic interests so you could focus on your job.

The beat was rough, but you had soon passed your detective test, and when you ended up permanently injured, you moved into Internal Affairs. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but you did it well.

You still visited Officer Buchanan on the third weekend of every month. You could barely believe Voight had talked to the man about you. You wondered exactly how that conversation had gone down. You looked to Voight as you pulled yourself back into reality, letting out a breath. “So, what then? You find any dirt on me besides trying to jump off a ledge when I was 25?”

“Nope,” Voight replied with a shrug, his eyes meeting yours. “Nothing substantial.”

You matched the hike of his shoulders and hummed. “Then I’ve got you, and you owe me a favor.”

“Alright,” he agreed, holding out his hand. You took it and shook firmly, then hummed and walked back to your car, manila folder still in hand. You took it away and to a friend, who doctored the footage to make it look like the man had reached for a gun. Then, you submitted your investigation a few days later as Voight having a clean shoot and no further action was taken. Having his favor in your back pocket would come in handy when you were ready to use it.

.

The morning after you’d submitted the clean report, an envelope was slipped beneath your door. You looked up, walking quickly to open your office door and see who could’ve slipped it, but nobody looked out of place. You furrowed your eyebrows, picking up the blank envelope and opening it to reveal a blank “thank you” card. It had no writing on it, nothing personalized, but you knew exactly who it was from. You smiled a little to yourself, then slipped it into your desk drawer.

— —

Over a year later, and you continued covering for Voight, but watching him to ensure he didn’t go off the rails all the same. You knew if he ever got in too deep, you wouldn’t be able to save him without going down yourself. You looked at the blank card and envelope often, even though all it said was “thank you” and some cheesy pre-printed message inside. It made you smile, and it was something you held on to. You hadn’t met with Voight again outside of official meetings when you had to investigate him or someone inside his unit. Of course, it always either came up clean or inconclusive for whatever reason.

That day, a call buzzed on your phone, pulling you away from witness reports on a beat cop case. You glanced to your phone, finding a familiar number on it, but you’d never saved the contact. You took the call, hearing “it’s time,” on the other end before they hung up. You grabbed your stuff and took furlough for the rest of the day, citing that your stomach was off.

That was an understatement.

Finally, it was time. Your stomach was in knots. You weren’t sure how to feel. It was all so bittersweet. You went to your house, dropping your car off and changing into clothes you hated - clothes you’d kept for years. You waited for nightfall, biding your time and getting everything ready as needed. You cleaned your gun, although you weren’t inclined to use it, it was in case something went wrong. You’d never done anything like this before, but studying Voight had given you a pretty good idea of how to cover your tracks.

You grabbed your knife set, still in the leather case, and put it into a small duffel bag, along with a change of clothes and some other things you’d need to get rid of the body. By the time nightfall arrived, a black car came up to your house, and you grabbed your duffel bag and left your house, getting into the car.

The man you knew from the phone drove you out of the city, right to the outskirts. An abandoned warehouse was there, where he was being held. Him, he who had abused you, raped you, and let you try to kill yourself. Him, who was so perfect in everyone else’s eyes. Him, who’d gotten away with it.

He won’t ever do it again. Not after today.

You’d been biding your time for years, over twenty years at this point. You were ready to do this. Ready to make him suffer the way you had long ago. You wanted him to feel pain. You wanted to take back what he had stolen from you long ago.

You got out of the car, watching as it drove away, then walked into the warehouse. You were on your own, now. What happened here stayed here. Nobody would ever know.

You walked in, seeing him tied to a chair and struggling to get loose, to no avail. You hummed and grabbed a crate, pushing it in front of him and sitting on it, letting your bag drop beside you. Your gun was in the back of your waistband, just in case, and you hummed as you watched him struggle. “Having fun?”

“You sick, psycho bitch!” He spat at you, still struggling to get out. “Fuck you!”

“You did, remember? You did it, over and over again, even when I asked you to stop. Even when I passed out, you kept going. Just to get yourself off.”

“Is that why you’re wearing that? I remember you had on the same thing the night you tried to jump. You should’ve done it.”

“Maybe, but then I wouldn’t be here to take the pleasure in this.” A dark smile creeped onto your face.

.

It was nearly 3AM when you were finished with him. When he couldn’t move anymore, when he begged you for mercy, when he laid limp on the floor, finally, you were finished. You took the gun from your waistband, bloody fingers gripping it as you knelt on top of him. “Good riddance,” you growled before finally giving him the mercy of death, putting a shot straight through his brain, and another through his heart.

Then, you picked up the shell casings and dug the bullets out of his limp body. You put them into a bag and set them aside. You pulled his body over to a tarp and began wrapping him up meticulously. As if you’d done it before.

You made good work of the body, then cleaned the blood before stripping off your clothes and changing into the fresh ones. You hauled everything out to a fire pit, where it had already been set up, dumping the body and your clothes into the pit and starting the fire. It burned and raged. The smell was terrible, but you somehow didn’t mind as you watched the flames dance, engulfing the man who had hurt you so badly.

As the fire went on, you heard a twig snap in the woods. You grabbed your now clean gun from your waist and turned quickly, just quick enough to see someone in a hoodie running away. “Shit,” you mumbled, debating as to whether you should stay with the body or run after the man. You decided on the latter, slinging your duffel bag across your body and bolting after the man who had seen you.

You chased him for about a mile before he got tired and you caught him, tackling him to the ground and holding the gun to his head. “Who are you?!”

“T-Travis!” He said, wincing and panting from running. “I-I-I’m sorry!”

“Sorry for what?!”

“Did you kill that guy? I-I didn’t mean to see you!”

“It’s your mistake,” you huffed, but before you could take care of the problem, you heard sirens and saw lights. You got up, pulling him with you at gunpoint. “Let’s go. And if you scream, you’re dead.”

The man agreed, shaking, probably high out of his mind judging by the skunk like stench radiating from him. After walking back toward your scene, you pushed him to his knees near a tree. “Stay here. If you move or scream, I’ll put a bullet in your head.” You huffed as he nodded, leaving him there and taking a few more steps toward the edge of the woods where you’d been earlier.

The fire department and police were there, trying to put out the fire. Your stomach dropped. “Oh fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, knowing it was only a matter of time before they figured out who was dead and who had done it. Your mouth ran dry and you felt like throwing up. Not only had it started to sink in that you’d mutilated, tortured, and killed someone, but you’d pretty much been caught now too.

You went back to the man, pulling him up and pulling him with you by the arm. He protested but you shushed him quickly as you ran. You ran out to the opposite side of the woods, then pushing him down next to another tree. You pulled out your cell phone, that had since been off, and turned it on. Then, you dialed the one person you could think of to get you out of this.

“Come on,” you mumbled. “Answer the phone.”

When he finally answered the phone, voice heavy with sleep, you swallowed hard, tears coming to your eyes. “You owe me,” you said sternly. “I need you. Now.”

A pause came over the phone as you waited in silence, then he spoke again. “Where are you?”

.

Some time later, you saw his car pull up. The man who was high had since fallen asleep, but you hadn’t stopped pacing. Voight pushed into the woods to find you, catching you and furrowing his brow. “Alright, tell me everything.”

You couldn’t help but let out a quiet sob, gun still in your hand, clenching it tightly. “Voight, I-I…” You swallowed hard. “This guy saw me and I-I didn’t want witnesses but then someone must’ve seen the fire and-and-“

“(Y/N),” he said, stern but soft as he reached out, gripping your shoulders to pull you back into reality. “Start from the beginning. Tell me everything so I can help.”

And so you did, telling him everything he needed to know to help. You cried softly as he held your shoulders, not knowing whether you should continue living or just shoot yourself here and now.

Voight held you as you spoke, then took the gun from your hand, putting it into his own waistband. Then, he pulled you into a tight hug, which made you break down further. Being in his arms made you feel safe, as if it were all a nightmare.

When he pulled away, he looked at you, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “It’s going to be alright. I’m going to keep your gun. Give me the shell casings and knives.”

You sniffled, handing him the entire duffel bag, then looking to the man who was sleeping. “What about him?”

Voight nodded. “You let me take care of it, all of it.”

“W-What do I do?”

“Don’t tell anyone anything. Business as usual.” He nodded to you. “Come on, go get into my car. I’ll take you home.”

You nodded and did as you were asked, sitting in the passenger seat. Voight took a few moments to wake up the high man and talk to him, then left him where he was. He put the evidence in the back seat, then sat in the driver’s seat beside you, nodding. “Everything’s gonna be alright, (Y/N). I promise.”

You swallowed hard, wiping your face as you tried to keep yourself together. “I can’t go home…”

“You have to,” he said with a small shrug. “It wouldn’t be right if you stayed with me, since you’re my IAD agent.”

You scoffed a little, shaking your head. “I don’t even care about all that,” you mumbled. “I’m only in IA because they won’t let me back in the field. I hate it there. Going after good cops? Screw my job. I want to quit.”

“You’re tired. It’s the grief talking,” Voight replied. “Don’t do anything rash. Just go in tomorrow, business as usual.”

You sighed shakily and nodded. Voight dropped you off, but before you got out of his car, he grabbed your hand. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

You swallowed hard and looked up at him. “Thanks,” you mumbled, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “You didn’t have to do this for me.”

“I owed you,” he replied softly with a small smile and a shrug. “Might as well go out helping someone I care about.”

You blushed, and with that, you leaned over again and kissed him softly. He reciprocated, gently putting his other hand on your thigh. You pulled back after a bit, a small smile pulling at your lips. “I care about you too.”

“I know,” he replied with a small nod, caressing your cheek. “I’d never let anything happen to you, favor or not.”

[muffinsin]

How would the Demi sisters react to their s/o making them something special for them. Like for Cassandra a knife made out of bone from one of her favorite kills or something. I just thinks I would love to see their reaction. And would they reciprocate weather it’s sexually or making their s/o something?

Also can I be fluff anon. I know I might not always ask for fluff but I do like mostly fluffy stuff with a bit of smut too.

This is adorable! Hoping this will get me outta my tiny writer’s block🙇‍♀️ And absolutely! Fluff anon works well :)

Let’s get into it! :)

Masterlists

Bela

For as long as you’ve known Bela, she’s been a workaholic

And not just this- but downright obsessed with her work

Everything must go right, all must be perfect

Often, it pains you to see her in such a state of constant stress and fear of failure

You know, she constantly wants to prove herself by working harder and harder than ever

And you know, she never once complains about the work that keeps piling and piling on her desk

Bela’s work is incredibly important to her, this much is clear from the start

However, it’s gotten a lot worse lately, with files piling on her desk and meetings overlapping and rescheduling

She’s busy each day, and you can tell your girlfriend is drowning in all of it

She’s losing track of it all, and in her desperate attempt to keep it all together, she not only neglects you, but herself too

It is on one of these days that you find her, passed out on a few sheets of paperwork

Even in her sleep, she frowns and whines quietly and distressed

You decide to help her out, with actions as well as a gift just for her

Bela is too tired to object when you guide her to her bed that day. With her body weak and light from neglecting her normal consumption of blood to stay healthy, it’s painfully easy for you to manoeuvre her to the bed and push her inside

She sleeps, tight, and fast, her heavy eyes closing

You don’t even know when the last time was that she’s slept, now that you think of it

Has it been hours? Days? More, even?

However, you don’t allow yourself to linger and watch your girlfriend for too long; you want to get to work immediately

As such you begin with easy tasks

You pull off her heels and set them on the floor next to the bed, then undo her corset carefully

A smile spreads on your lips when she sighs contentedly

You decide to leave her in her dress for now, instead only pull the heavy covers up and press a kiss to her forehead

A silent promise that you will make it all better again

You arrange a silver tray with a glass of blood-wine and a full bottle of it next to it

In the middle of the tray is a bowl of her favourite of snacks and slices of warm, fresh bread. You cover it up to ensure it stays warm until your lover awakens

When you set down the tray on her nightstand, your eyes linger on her form for a moment longer

Her chest rises and falls slowly, her breathing even. She looks beautiful, the sunlight hitting locks of her golden hair and pale face

She doesn’t seem to mind

Next, you move over to her desk

You take in the no longer organised mess. Papers lay about everywhere, some scribbled on. Even her handwriting is less tidy, as though her eyes shut a few times while she tried to form a sentence

You organise it all neatly:

One pile for finished work. A-Z, with notes sticking out to mark the months the paper was created in, just the way she likes it

A second pile for works in progress. Again, A-Z, with the same notes sticking out again

And lastly, a pile of unedited papers. A-Z, with the same notes, and only some bearing notes with an exclamation mark on it. Those you know she will need to prioritise based on what she’s told you occasionally

You put her pencils back in the case, and clean up the smudge of lipstick left on one of her notepads from when she must’ve smeared her mouth as she rested her head on her desk

Next, you take a seat at her desk and look through her notebook

You know, she’s very well organised. Normally, that is

For now all seems a mess

Dates and meetings are scribbled all over, some scratched out and rewritten or corrected multiple times

You stretch out your arms, then grab a fresh sheet of paper and get to work

It takes you a couple of drafts, but eventually you get it right:

A Calendar for her

Written neatly and organised, you list all dates of meetings she must attend, important events and reminders all on one page

Starting with the date and time , then the title, a small description given one is needed, then a small box for her to tick off once something is done with

You smile at your work

Even have you managed to sneak in a few reminders for her to eat, and scheduled in breaks for her

You’re truly rather surprised when you eye the clock and notice multiple hours have passed

Perhaps this is why your girlfriend always manages to lose herself in her work? You hum, thinking

With a grin, you jump up and pull the curtains aside

With light in the room now, she is bound to notice the time

You hum, satisfied with your work, and tiredly retreat to your shared room

Unsurprisingly, Bela is still fast asleep on the bed. You wouldn’t expect anything else after she’s passed out from exhaustion, either

She only makes a small noise at the back of her throat when you join her in bed, then sighs contentedly as you pull her back against your front

With the lovely scent of her hair surrounding you, you’re able to slip your eyes close at last

In the morning, Bela is flabbergasted

She must blink a couple of times to even attempt to understand what is going on

She doesn’t remember getting into bed, and only smiles softly when her eyes finally set on your sleeping form

Her corset is on the top of her drawer, and she spots her shoes set at the foot of the bed

The scent of blood tickles her nose, and she licks her lips upon seeing the cup on the nightstand

She hasn’t even realised how deprived she is of it, so that when you wake up to her practically swallowing all contents of the bottle in only a few gulps, she can only blush in embarrassment

Your gentle smile reassures you, yet her blush persists as you pull the bowl into your lap and raise some of the snacks to her lips

After breakfast, she sadly insists she must continue working

The mere thought of the mess awaiting her leaves her dizzy

She wants nothing but for the stress to pass. Of course, Bela would never admit this

You follow her into her office, and grin when she gasps upon finding her tidy workspace

She checks the piles of papers quietly, and lifts the calendar wordlessly

Bela isn’t sure what to say. Never has she felt this way

Never has anybody done such a thing for her

Chocolate, flowers, presents, yes. But they never quite meant something. Not like this

Tears form at her bright golden eyes at the realisation of what you’ve done for her

Before you can ask whether she is alright, though, she pulls you to her chest and hugs you tightly. She hopes, begs the gods, that this hug can convey her thankfulness

“Thank you, little one”

Cassandra

You can’t help but giggle at Cassandra’s loud groan

She’s laid on top of her bed, with her arm outstretched and on your lap and her head hanging from the edge of the mattress

You know, the poor thing is bored to bits

With the temperature low, so many restrictions are now in place

For one, she can no longer hunt until it warms up, and you can tell it’s driving her restless

She’s groaning again when you only trace her skin carefully. She’s getting impatient

Upon feeling you squeeze her lower arm roughly and massaging her cool skin, she quietens down again and keeps purring contentedly

Another major restriction is the inability for her to see her merchant

Yes, of course the duke is still available, but Cassandra hardly cares about him

No, you know she’s not interested in that one. You know another catches her eye

The strange fellow with the large backpack and rag-covered face

The weapon trader

And while she sometimes sends you out to see what new weapons he has in stock, you know Cassandra yearns to see her for herself

And you know, especially now she wants to make trade with him, now that the number of staff members is low

That part is not a surprise, really

In winter, the number of employees drops massively due to the boredom of the sisters

In turn, however, it means there are less staff members to torment, and less people to attend to the usual tasks

Some tasks are simply no longer supported, such as keeping Cassandra’s weapons sharp

And while she enjoys sharpening them herself, you know they are too many for her

You know your girlfriend, and know she only gets impatient when hours pass and she hasn’t even cleaned half of them- let alone sharpened!

You decide to help her out

For two weeks already have you been planning and crafting in secret, all to see a smile on her face

Because truly? A smile on Cassandra’s face is often a rare sight in winter

She sits up abruptly, her teeth grit angrily, yet you don’t flinch

Her anger isn’t directed at you, and you know it. It’s merely her frustrations let out

Cassandra only calms down a little when you cup her cheeks and press a kiss to her lips, warped in a scowl

Eventually, her facial features relax again and she whines quietly. Annoyed. Bored. Utterly frustrated she can’t go out and have fun, or even taunt maidens, and worst of all- not even practice using her weapons because none are as sharp and shiny as they should be

You tangle your fingers in beautiful, auburn hair

“Why don’t you take a trip to the basement, Cass?”, you propose, and with a small smile, hand over the dagger you keep on your person

Her eyes practically glisten at the sight

It’s one of the few weapons within her reach left sharp and clean

Her hand almost trembles with excitement as she grabs it from you, and you can’t help but smile at the sadistic grin on her lips

A kiss is pressed to you before she eagerly swarms off, and you ensure you waste no time

You rush into your workshop, and after making sure your girlfriend is nowhere in sight, pull out the small, unassuming box from beneath your desk

Inside lays a bone, shaped into a knife. A bone from the varcolac she had slain during your first hunt together

While it still looks rather unassuming, you’re making progress

A blade and handle can be recognised, and while it is by far not sharp yet, you’re getting it there

Without any ado, you keep working

Your first objective is the handle. While it looks boring so far, you plan on changing this

You craft and shape it until it is bent rather than straight, and using a pair of gloves snatched from her room, you make slight dents to allow for a better grip

It’s a tedious process, but turns out just as you want it to

The bone is smooth, but hard

You grip the handle tightly and smile. Yes, it will do nicely. It still needs refinement, but that is for much later

You notice, nearly two hours have passed already from merely this

Next is the blade itself

While right in shape already, it must be sharpened. You want it sharp enough to draw blood from the smallest of contacts

A blade sharp enough to do her right. An edge lethal enough to do her justice

You give the blade a slight tilt too, and smile when the blade begins to cut into one of your gloves soon enough

When the tip too is sharp and the blade nearly shines as you turn it, you smile satisfied

Almost done, after weeks of work

You wrap brown leather around a part of the handle for a tighter and more sure grip

Next, you make small carvings into the backside of the blade

A small, neatly carved C. You know it will forever shine against the light colour of the bone once blood fills it

When satisfied, you smile in triumph

You rest the bone dagger back in the box, careful not to cut yourself, and proceed back to her room

As expected, she is still occupied in the basement. You know, she will likely not return until your blade is coated in blood, she has grown satisfied with hearing her prey scream, and the blade of her dagger is dull

You put the box containing your gift on her desk, knowing she will seek you out before she even notices the box

Instead, you move to her personal armoury

Weapons of all kinds decorate the walls and shelves, barrels and tables. Swords, sickles, rapiers, shields, bows, daggers, machetes and hatchets, even a warhammer she likes to look at from time to time

You start easy, with the daggers. Sharpening them goes quick, and cleaning them even faster. She has even started on some already

One, two, three, the fourth one is sharpened and polished in little time

Then the swords. One, two, three, four, five, six are now sharp and shiny again. The muscles in your arm ache a little bit

You tend to the two shields of the room. Metallic, and bearing the Dimitrescu symbol at the front

Cleaning them is an easy task that takes you only half an hour once you work them off and back on the wall

The rapier is sharp, so that you almost cut yourself already. You merely clean it and curse when it splits your rag in half

Then the hatchets and machetes. You clean them eagerly, even if it takes a while

Putting the bow back in its proper place is a task that only takes a few minutes. Gathering all the arrows and putting them back in her quiver comes next

And lastly- her sickle. You retreat back into her room to find it discarded at her desk, useless to her with its half-sharpened blade

It seems, though, after half an hour of sharpening and scrubbing, your lover has grown tired of being apart from you

You gasp in surprise when you find swarms of flies around you, until you feel the familiar weight of her on your lap

She hums, her eyes wide and excited as she sees what you’re doing

Her dark, golden eyes are glued to her sickle, made sharp again under your fingers

She reaches out to swipe her index finger along the edge, then moans and crackles in delight when a cut is quickly made and dark blood runs from her fingertip

Cassandra feels lightheaded when you grab her wrist and bring her hand to your mouth, your warm tongue dragging up her finger and to her cut

You see her glistening eyes and spot the excitement and love in them

You get her. And she gets you

“You sharpened it”, she remarks breathlessly

She tugs the weapon from you, grinning happily

You nod. Yes, you did

Cassandra giggles in delight as she catches her own reflection in the sharp blade and feels your arm wrap around her hip

“Not only that”, you whisper, your breath tickling her ear and your lips teasing her skin. She’s shivering beautifully for you

“Your armoury is back in order too, my love”

The words make her feel lightheaded again. You- what?

She resists the urge to swarm off to see right away. She trusts your words

“Aren’t you a good little servant?”, she teases, a small smirk on her lips. Still, by the look in her eyes and her fingers gripping the sickle tighter, you can sense her gratitude

You get her. There is no need for the proper words. You know her love and gratitude

But, you have one more surprise up your sleeve

When you push the box to her, she all but rips the top off excitedly

Her eyes shine a brighter colour for a moment as she spots the dagger

She lifts it, and brings it to her face. Inhaling sharply, she moans

You know you must not explain what it is made of. She recognizes it immediately, the scent of the animal still lingering on the bone. The scent of her triumph

She moans in delight, and as she drags her tongue against the blade, gasps all too happily when she finds herself cut again

A sharp edge of her blade. Lethal when swung right. Harmful in every way

It makes her skin tingle

You only smile knowingly when she grins at you, blood coating her lips and the edge of the blade

You gasp in surprise when the blade is brought to your neck, hovering just before your skin. Untouching. Merely an unnerving presence

“The things you do to me…”, she groans

Her light smirk and the excited shimmer to her eyes tell you- the two of you will spend the remaining day and night testing out just how sharp her new dagger is ;)

Daniela

You know many things of Daniela, and learn more as time goes on

You know she loves romance and music, dancing and singing, fantasy and books. Princesses and thoughts of faraway lands, flowers, the sky, and her family of course

When you find out when her birthday is, at last, after years of being together, you know it must be special

She reassures you- after so many centuries, her birthday is simply another day

She didn't even remember it until you found out when it was and reminded her

The realisation shocked you

You would think out of all people Daniela would treasure her birthday the most

Still, she barely talks of it even after you remind her. She insists- it’s nothing special, and you know, someone must have given her such a feeling and thought

You intend to fix such a foul mindset

You know, she secretly aches for a special day just for her

A birthday again, no matter how old she is and grows to be in her immortal life. You want to celebrate each birthday with her, and you want each to be perfect for her

Daniela is your everything, and deserves only the best

And you want to give her just that

Knowing her special day is not for another few months has given you time to prepare accordingly

You begin planning early on into the year, so that it’s all perfect in September

You include Bela in your planning, eager to have someone with true authority at the castle on your side

Like this, you can work at night without having to justify each action multiple times

Like this, you can do more or less as you please as you work

Your preparations in late summer include most of the planting of seeds in the castle’s garden

With Bela’s help, you manage to lay out the shape perfectly. It has to be perfect

You work throughout the day while Daniela is out hunting, uncaring of the sweat that plagues you as you work in the sun

Upon returning, your girlfriend never suspects a thing, even when she finds you working and planting things in the garden

Too excited to keep from rambling on, you always know a break from work is due when Daniela returns

As such, summers are spent preparing your surprise and leading your beautiful girlfriend through the gardens as she talks of her hunt

Months pass, and the temperature drops a little bit

You’re a little worried

What if September is too cold and your surprise won’t survive the cold temperatures?

Alas, as the month rolls around, the gods seem to be on your side

You are rewarded with a sunny September, in which temperatures barely drop to anything below 17/62 degrees c/f

Daniela is enthusiastic! While she is not supposed to be out a lot, Alcina allows the sisters to leave the castle a few hours a day to hunt and play outside

You know, normally the drop of the warm, summer temperature means they are locked up in the castle for their own safety

Not quite this September, it seems

You wait patiently, grinning as the days pass

The first of September

The second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, the sixth, the seventh, the eight, the ninth

Many days of the month pass, yet the temperature stays stable

Daniela seems oblivious to her birthday nearing rapidly

She spends her days outside as much as she can, chasing her sisters and hunting together, causing torment and messes wherever they can

Each day she returns with a large grin on her adorable face

While each sister is somewhat greedy, all are surprisingly enthusiastic and contend with the few hours they are allowed outside per day

They all know not to stray too far, nor to stay out any later than they are allowed to

And each day, Daniela brings you a little gift from her hunts

Sometimes it’s a flower she finds blooming in the forest

At other times a ring or necklace from her latest prey

Sometimes, she finds you a leaf that shines so beautifully in the light, it catches her attention

You’re eager to return the favour in the form of a surprise on her birthday

And so, more days pass

Both of you are so happy, and as the last days and hours pass, you prepare accordingly

At 11:20pm the night leading up to her birthday, you awaken to your alarm

You smile at your girlfriend as she sleeps contentedly

Her face rests on your chest, her soft cheek smudged against your skin. Her eyes are shut and her breathing is even

Daniela only whines occasionally in her sleep, or grins. You wonder what dream she is having

With her warm and comforting presence by your side, you are almost tempted to stay in bed a little longer

Yet, as tempting as it is, you know not to. Your surprise awaits at last

You run your index fingertip down her nose, smiling as she whines and rubs her face against you, as though to rid herself of the ticklish feeling

When you tap her bottom nose again, Daniela whines in return yet again

“Daniiiii”, you coo

She groans, a small, sleepy whimper coming from her

You can’t help but giggle at her. She’s so adorable

Golden eyes open slowly and with great effort as you cup her warm cheeks, before they scan the room

There is no threat however. Only the two of you

She blinks in surprise when you move forwards and press a kiss to both her warm cheeks

“I’ve got a surprise for you, my love”, you whisper. Immediately, she seems more awake

A surprise? For her?!

She’s thrilled!

You help her out of bed and pull some of the clothing you’ve laid out for her to the bed

Her puzzled look makes you smile, even as she frowns in confusion. Why would she need such warm clothing now?

You share with her: you plan on taking her outside. While wary of Alcina’s command not to take a step outside, Daniela grins in delight. Mother doesn’t have to know!

You help her into warm clothing, consisting of leggings underneath her thick trousers, your shirt and hoodie and a warm coat for your girlfriend

You place a beanie on top of her head and smile widely at how well it fits her

Then, you work on putting thick gloves on her petite fingers

And lastly, you gently wrap a scarf around her neck. You cover the lower part of her face with it to ensure the wind can’t get to it

With only her nose and cheeks out, you press a kiss to all three and smile when it pulls a giggle from her

Daniela watched curiously as you pocket a small box, then allows you to pull her through the castle halls

She forces herself to refrain from giggling when the two of you sneak past Alcina’s wing, and hums as she allows you to grasp her hand and move her along

Was she her sister, Daniela might’ve grown suspicious why you aren’t taking her outside through the main doors

Was she her sister, she might’ve become on edge when you move and open the door to the castle rooftop

Daniela, however, trusts you

And so she only gasps at the cold air that attempts, and fails, to get to her through her thick clothing

She gasps again, in surprise this time, when you carefully move until you take the stairs to the smooth, even area of the rooftops

A table has been dragged there, adorned with blankets and thick clothing just in case she would get cold

“Close your eyes for me, my sweet”, you request, and smile as she does so

This proves her utter trust in you

How she closes her eyes and allows you to guide her to the edge of the roof. Even with the cold air leaving her vulnerable- not yet lethal, but certainly enough to make it hard for her to swarm. Right to the edge, where you could push her to her death

Of course, you don’t dare even consider such a thing

Daniela feels your hands cover her eyes when she is led to the edge of the even, balcony-like part of the roofs

“What are we waiting for?”, she asks softly

Your whispers in her ear are her answer:

“Just a few more seconds, baby. Then it’s your birthday”

She suddenly feels shivers run down her spine in anticipation. Her birthday- she has almost forgotten all about it. Or at the very least tried it

Now though, she can’t help but smile and feel hopeful

You didn’t forget

You glance at the clock set on the table, and smile as you whisper in her ear yet again

“Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…”

“Happy Birthday, my love”

Daniela blinks away the darkness when your hands move from her face and her eyes open up again

Immediately, they widen at the sight below her

The castle garden shines beautifully. Lamps have been set up, lights adorn the trees and hedges

But most impressively: there is a heart shaped spot in the grass that blooms with red roses

You gasp in surprise as she dashes forwards, over the edge of the balcony and forth to the true edge of the roof

She bends forwards, as though trying to get closer to it

For a moment, her head turns and she shoots you a watery smile

She shivers as she uses what strength she has to swarm back to you, and blushes when you gently wipe the tears from her eyes

“It’s so beautiful”, she whispers

You send her a smile in return and gasp in surprise as she pushes herself back against your chest and cries softly

“You’re the best”, she cries happily, her petite frame shaking with each sob that comes from her

When you cup her face again, you are thick to wipe her tears with your thumb

“Now Dani, your birthday is no occasion to cry on, my love”, you whisper back to her

A gentle smile is returned to you as she turns her head again

Up this close, you see her eyes practically sparkle as she looks at the many lights and beautiful roses in the garden

“Tomorrow, we will pick them, my love”, you promise her

She gasps your hand tightly as she pulls you in for another kiss

Only does she let go when she feels your hand fish for something in your pockets

The box!

Her eyes widen when you open it and a beautiful, golden necklace is revealed. A single, beautiful, green crystal is attached

You gently put it on her, smiling when she smiles so brightly at you. Her eyes and lashes are wet from tears, happy ones

“Happy Birthday, Daniela”, you whisper with a gentle smile

[kortacqueen]

MORE MORE MORE KORTAC INSPIRATION HAS HIT LETS GO

Hutch, my man, is a computer genius

However his true power remains long unknown UNTIL a bet comes around

During one of the team game nights, König loses and is forced to reveal a story about a scar not gotten in the field

He shares a long scar running up his forearm and says it’s from a dirt biking accident, mentioning that there may be footage of it somewhere

He doubts anyone actually saw it since it was only aired locally

Hutch says ‘if I find it, can I show it to everyone?’

König responds (he is a little drunk) ‘I bet you can’t find it, but if you do I’ll owe you one favor AND tell you another story of a scar, just you.’

Time passes and people move on. It’s a while before they are all able to have a full team game night together

Before they can start, Hutch gets them all to the rec room, his computer hooked up to the TV

A long video file ready to play as everyone sits down.

‘I win our bet König’ was the only warning everyone got before Hutch started a video of a 15 year old König dirt bike racing in the mountains on old footage.

Clear as day, near the end battling for 1st, a kid nicks König’s bike and he falls off the hill into the deep mud on his arm

Quickly getting back up, he fights for the top spot. In the final stretch, König passes the kid and flips him off

Then proceeds to mock him while on the podium with his still bleeding arm, gesturing that he’s crying then laughs and points

Safe to say a fight broke out and the footage cut off

Hutch was standing there a little to proud of himself, and he does receive his special story

Out of solidarity, he has not looked at anyone’s search history on base.

Hutch, Declan, Oni, Roze, Zeus, and Horangi are great singers and have amazing range

Stilletto, Zero, and Askel should never be allowed to sing and aren’t banned but they will get glares

All of KorTac are a little sadistic in battle, but there is definitely a range.

Surprisingly König, Stiletto, and Oni are at the top of this list. Callisto is the only one who will force them to stop.

Oni can, will, and has cut off arms with his katanas just to leave them to bleed out

König likes to use a sledgehammer when available, he swings so it hits the enemy’s head but there is usually a wall of floor to meet them.

He has a biting problem too. If you put your hand on or near his mouth he will bite you through the mask if need be, fingers have been lost and König thinks it’s hilarious.

All of them carry a spare balaclava in case comeones is ripped, most often Horangi’s or König’s.

Some of them take medication for many things

Most for PTSD and depression, König for those and anxiety and insomnia (caused by his anxiety and depression)

The man is bad WITH his medication, without it he is so much worse. As an unmedicated kid who needed meds, he would hardly leave his room and would panic attack upon returning

The days that he misses, he locks himself in his room and cries all day

Though one of the lesser religious of the group, Klaus embodies the Christmas spirit the most

Though, he acts more like a demented Santa

Singing carols with twisted lyrics as he completes his missions, finishing with a ‘ho ho ho, and have a merry Christmas in hell’

He gained an affectionate nickname of ‘Krampus’ given to him by Fender and König who grew up with it.

It was not out of kindness or humor that they gave him this name like everyone believes.

To strengthen his bond with the name, he researched several different traditions over many countries with the creature and began to terrorize them all.

Fender and König were terrorized the most and their childhood trauma/fear was used against them.

Declan found this especially funny. You could tell Klaus just pranked them is Declan was seen with tears in his eyes.

Eventually, Fender and König call him Krampus throughout the year, while the rest stick to just Christmas time.

Zeus, although very polite, can be incredibly judgemental.

If someone eats something he deems as disgusting, he’ll scrunch up his face and give this horrified look.

This look has spared no one and made several people cry.

The reveal of König as a Colonel had shaken everyone. Apparently Zero was the only one who guessed right but was under the impression König had no idea how he got there

Which, to be fair, is kinda true

[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo: When In Rome - Scott Forrester x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @district447 @soultrysworld @delightfulheroshoeflap @upsteadlogic @ottitt @@too-strong-to-lose @hearthockey @alice30martini @tems13

Hitting the Hotel Stay Bingo Square

It’s in a hotelroom in Rome that Scott makes love to you for the first time. The Fly Team have just finished up a case in the capital, the flight back to Budapest isn’t until late morning so it means another night at the hotel. It’s a gorgeous place with an ornate ceiling that draws it’s inspiration from the Sistine chapel.

Scott sits alone on one of the couches in the hotel bar, listening to the sounds of the staff closing up around him as he tilts his head back and stares at the artwork above him. He studies the hues of the clouds, the way they blend into the sky as the blue ebbs and fades.

It’s been a tough couple of days, both for the FBI and Europol, he knows you’re at their offices right now, filing your paperwork and getting chewed out by your superiors. It’s the reason he’s waiting up for you. Despite the fact you work for Europol, you’re still a part of his team, your losses are his losses and vice versa.

He’s always been attuned to your presence, he doesn’t have to look up to know you’ve walked into a room, he just senses the shift in the air. It’s the same tonight, there’s a subtle change before you drop down onto the couch alongside of him, hip and shoulder bumping against his.

“Waiting up for me?” You ask him, with a slight teasing tone.

He tilts his head towards you, those bright blue eyes of his studying yours. He can’t explain the way he feels when he looks at you, he sees a kindred spirit, someone who tactile, ferocious. The life the two of you lead it’s not meant for settling down, relationships they come and go because partners don’t understand the nature of the job. It can be isolating, lonely.

 “I thought you might want to talk.” He tells you, his hand slipping into yours. You squeeze it tightly and he squeezes back.

He means about the case, the fact you both watched a man who orchestrated so much fucking misery walk free because he’d struck a deal with the folks back in Washington. He knows you’re just as devastated as he is. You don’t hide that shit from him, the same way he doesn’t hide it from you. For four years you’ve been each other’s port in the storm and now Scott wants more, he has for a long time. He can’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, he can only acknowledges that it has.

 “Do you want to talk about it?” You ask him and he shakes his head.

The wounds are too fresh, too raw. He needs time to process, to sit with it. He reaches out, his fingertips tucking a stray strand of hair back behind your ear before his hand cups your face, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek.

 “No.” He says quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “But I do want to kiss you.”

He leans in close, his lips brushing over yours. There’s a tenderness in Scott that others don’t see, he can be firm, unrelenting but when he’s with you, you see his vulnerability, you feel it. When he kisses you tonight, you realise he’s offering you another part of himself, one that he’s kept locked away for a very long time.

You kiss him back and he moans into your mouth, his fingers threading through your hair as he draws you into his lap. The time, the place, they all just slip away because the only thing he can focus on is you, how good you feel pressed against him. He whines when you pull away, his skin flushed and eyes bright. You smile against his lips, your fingertips chasing over the stubble of his cheek as you whisper.

“Take me to bed.”

Love Scott? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[gaysullengirl]

𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞. 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞

❝ we're two slow dancers, last one's out. ❞

- two slow dancers, mitski

     Isabelle looked out of the plane window, she caught Spencer's gaze in the corner of her eye but she didn't look his way.

She was stressed to say the least, about Spencer but also the fact this was the first case she was working with the Behavior Analysis Unit.

The case was gruesome to say the least- three women picked up at bars and murdered in hotel rooms, the unsub disemboweled them then forced them to clean up their own blood.

"Reid, work up a geographic profile, focus on location of the murder, Prentiss and Rossi, concentrate on the victims, Morgan, Cruz, and I will go deal with Vanessa Holden." Hotch said.

୨୧

"I'm sorry you came all the way out here, it's a waste of time, Ashley knows absolutely nothing." Ashley's mom announced sternly.

"And we want to get this behind us as soon as possible." she added.

"Mrs. Holden, we can't begin to fathom the loss you've suffered." Isabelle said sympathetically.

"That's right, you can't."

"Um, I lost my younger sister when she was just seventeen, it was really hard on me and my family." Isabelle subconsciously softened her face.

"I was always the responsible one, I made sure she remembered her homework and lunch, she's- she was so forgetful."

"I can't even begin to think about if I was the one who passed away, she'd probably lose her head." She laughed slightly.

"Mrs. Holden, I want to catch him and make sure he never sees the light of day, I wanna help you but to do that we need you and your daughter's help."

Ashley's mom let them in the house and they talked with Ashley.

Isabelle walked down their driveway with confidence, she was proud, she got Ashley's mom to open up and let them in the house.

"The information about Vanessa Holden being the responsible sister, where did you get that?" Hotch asked when they arrived at the car.

"It was an educated guess." Isabelle shrugged, "You guessed, then proceeded to lie." Hotch criticized.

"Hmm?" Isabelle scrunched her nose up, "I read your file, your sister isn't dead."

Isabelle's heart dropped, a lot of the time she forget Juliana isn't dead- well not officially.

Isabelle considered telling the truth, but it was a long and complicated story and he'd probably never believe her anyway.

"I- I got us in the door, we talked to Ashley." Isabelle argued.

"Not only do you represent the fbi, you represent this team, to the press, the police, and to the families who are struggling with some of the hardest times of their lives., if you get caught in a lie, the trust we depend on to help solve these crimes disappears." Hotch lectured her.

"Do I make myself clear?"

Isabelle clenched her fists, "Yes."

୨୧

Isabelle stared at the whiteboard in front of her, across it was a map and pictures of the victims.

Spencer sighed, "Based on the geography, he isn't just changing his victimology, he's changed his whole tax bracket."

"The high profile of Vanessa Holden bears that out, by killing her, he was climbing the social ladder, on the sex workers advertisements they said they would come to you."

"That cuts out the social interaction of meeting on a street corner." Morgan said.

"Exactly, that's a long way from a self-assured unsub who hits the clubs." Spencer responded.

"He took a year off between the murders maybe he took that time to change himself." Isabelle offered.

"That's impossible." Spencer replied flatly.

"Why?" She rolled her eyes.

"Well, I mean, you're talking about a total transformation here, I mean how you talk, I mean how you dress, how you think about yourself."

"Difficult maybe, but not impossible." Hotch added.

"He already started killing, there must have been a secondary trigger that motivated him to change who he was." Emily explained.

"So if you're gonna completely transform yourself, how would you do it?" Rossi asked.

"Cut everyone off." Isabelle said, everyone gave her a questioning look, "I was joking." She explained with a small laugh.

Isabelle saw the way Spencer kept his eyes on her, even thought the team couldn't see through her lie- he could.

"A steady diet of self-help books." "Start hitting the gym." "You have to learn how to read people."

"A pick-up is basically just a profile, decoding cues of interest and recoding similar ones."

"If you're too obvious, you turn off your target, if you're oblivious, your target moves on to a better profiler."

"That doesn't sound like something he could do on his own, maybe he went to a self-help class?" Isabelle offered.

Rossi held up a news paper and pointed to an ad for a self-help class.

୨୧

Isabelle and Emily walked over to the balcony and looked over the edge, the blood of becky- the latest victim pooled on the sidewalk.

"At all the other scenes, the bottles were arranged in a precise order, here they're just part of the mess." Emily said as she examined the scene.

"Maybe she fought back. And when becky went over the railing, his routine had been compromised because he knew the police would respond.". Isabelle offered.

"Or she could have jumped, her nervous system was pumping adrenaline, her flight or fight response kicks in."

"He struck two fridays in a row, and if his routine's been interrupted, It might compel him to strike again." Hotch added.

"It's Saturday, the clubs will be packed tonight." Isabelle said.

"Take a look at the classes the unsub might have taken." Hotch commanded causing Isabelle to clench her jaw.

୨୧

"I can't believe he actually said that to you." Isabelle scrunched her face after hearing Emily description of Viper.

Hotch, Morgan, and Rossi walked up to the two women, "The answer might be something in Viper's class, But to figure that out, we need to profile the teacher."

"We need to study his style up close and personal, it's gonna take someone that he's already attracted to." Morgan smirked as the whole team looked to Emily.

"Oh, this is really gonna suck." Emily said, "Cruz, you're also going in." Hotch added.

"What!" Spencer said louder than he expected to, "Why can't Emily just go in by herself?"

"Spencer it's fine." Isabelle empathized.

authors note!

sorry this chapter is mostly just the case, the next few will be more about isabelle and spencer!! <3

[laurenairay]

sometimes you just don't know the answer - N. Hischier

Summary: Sometimes you meet the right person at the wrong time. At least for Nico Hischier and Mila Williams this was the case.

This is my entry for @cellythefloshie’s birthday bingo! I really hope you like this – I had a lot of fun with it! For the bingo squares, I chose: angst, ex’s to lovers, seasonal, “…I will always love you”, and hurt/comfort, and I believe I hit all of those.

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: angst, self-deprecation, referenced car accident, mild injuries, some bad language.

Title from champagne problems, by Taylor Swift

~~~

Sometimes you meet the right person at the wrong time. At least for Nico Hischier and Mila Williams this was the case.

Nearly twelve months had passed since their relationship had ended abruptly, and as December started, Nico viewed the month bleakly. The whole damn Christmas season, if he was being honest. How could he view it favourably, when all it did was remind him of losing the best relationship he’d ever had?

Instead, he filled as much of his time as he could with hockey, with team events, his closest countrymen indulging him in dinners and movie nights when his mood was particularly dim. Like tonight for instance – Jonas had taken one look at him after practice and strong-armed him into his car to come over for dinner.

A dinner that had long since turned into moping on Jonas’s sofa when Nico got a phone call.

Nico frowned as his phone buzzed repeatedly in his pocket. Who was calling him at this hour? Jonas frowned as well as Nico pulled his phone out, revealing a number he didn’t recognise.

“Who is it?” Jonas asked.

“I don’t know. It has a New Jersey area code though,” Nico said.

The phone kept buzzing.

“Are you going to answer it?” Jonas asked.

“Well whoever it is, is certainly persistent. Guess it couldn’t hurt,” Nico murmured.

At the very worst, he could hang up and block them, right?

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Mr Hischier?”

Nico pursed his lips slightly. “Yes, who is this?”

“This is Hoboken University Medical Center. We have you on file as Mila Williams’s emergency contact?”

Mila Williams. Mimi. Now that was a name he wasn’t expecting to hear. A name he never thought he’d hear again, one he’d struggled to get out of his head. His ex-girlfriend, who broke up with him just before Christmas last year. The ex-girlfriend who still held his heart in every way.

Wait, Hoboken University Medical Center? Emergency contact?

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Nico asked, nerves sinking like a stone into his stomach.

“I’m afraid to say that Ms Williams has been in a car accident. She’s heading into surgery right now, but would you be available to come down here to fill in her paperwork?”

Car accident.

Mila had been in a car accident.

Oh fuck.

“Yes. Of course. I’ll leave right now,” Nico said quickly, swallowing the lump rising in his throat, willing his nausea to disappear.

Mila had been in a car accident.

Fuck.

“Thank you, Mr Hischier. We’ll see you soon.”

The phone call ended with a click, and all at once it felt like Nico’s world was ending. Mila was in a car accident. She was going into surgery. Mila was in a car accident?

“Hey, Nics, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?” Jonas asked.

The touch of his friend’s hand on his arm brought him out of his swirling thoughts, and Nico let out a shaky breath before looking at him.

“That was the hospital. It’s Mimi…she’s been in a car accident,” Nico managed to choke out, shaky hand sliding his phone into his pocket.

He could barely believe the words that left his mouth, leaving a bitter aftertaste to accompany his rising panic.

“And they called you?” Jonas asked, confused.

“I’m still her emergency contact. I don’t…I’ve got to go. It’s Mimi,” Nico said, running a hand through his hair.

Jonas huffed out a breath but nodded. “Yeah, of course Nics. Just be careful. Snow is heavy and they don’t need you in an accident too.”

“Yeah, I’ll be careful. I’ll text you.”

“Please do. Give Mila my best wishes.”

Because she was going to be okay. She had to be okay.

It didn’t take as long as Nico feared to arrive at the hospital, despite the ice and snow or the traffic, driving as carefully as he could while still going faster than he should. Thankfully the roads most of the way were quiet enough at this time of night – and by luck he found a free parking spot over the back of the parking lot. If he could count his blessings on this, he only hoped he still had a few left for Mila’s sake.

Shuffling quickly across the snow, Nico headed into the urgent care entrance, straight to the main desk.

“Hi, I got a call as the emergency contact for my…Mila? Mila Williams?”

My girlfriend. That’s what nearly slipped out. Hah. He hadn’t been lucky enough to call her his girlfriend in nearly a year – no, he’d messed up too much to still have that good fortune.

“Let me just look into that for you.”

Nico chewed nervously at his thumb while the receptionist typed away at her computer, all but bouncing on his heels while he waited for an answer. He had to see her. He had to know she was okay.

“Okay, it looks like she’s still in surgery. But if you head up to the second floor, where she’ll be taken after it’s finished, there’s a waiting room there that a nurse will collect you from.”

Fuck.

Not the answer he’d been hoping for. But still.

“Okay, thank you. Second floor, waiting room. Thank you,” Nico huffed out.

The woman sent him a pitying smile, waving her hands towards the elevators, and Nico wasted no time in power walking over to them, stabbing the button repeatedly until the elevator arrived. It didn’t take him long to find the waiting room, empty as it was at this late hour, and he sat down with a heavy thump.

Mila had been in a car accident.

She was still in surgery.

She was hurt enough to still be in surgery.

What if she didn’t…

No, he couldn’t go down that line of thinking. He couldn’t entertain a world without her in it, even if their worlds didn’t overlap anymore. A world without Mimi Williams…no, that was not a world he wanted to know at all.

She was fire, and passion, and laughter, and joy. The darkest of brown curls and caramel-coloured skin, with a teasing smile and sparkling eyes. A bleeding heart, caring more about the animals she took care of as a veterinary technician than anyone he’d ever met before. The woman who he’d seen himself marrying. The woman who needed more from him than playing voicemail tag and missing dates and anniversaries. The woman who’d yelled and begged at him to care enough to send her flowers on her birthday if he couldn’t be there in person. The woman who he’d let down again and again until she broke her own heart and said enough is enough.

The woman he’d lost, because he couldn’t step up to the plate. The woman who got away, because he hadn’t fought hard for their relationship. The woman who he still loved, so desperately, even though he hadn’t heard her voice in nearly twelve months.

It was hours before Nico heard footsteps, and he raised his tear-streaked face to look hopefully at the nurse who entered the waiting area, receiving a kind smile.

“Mr Hischier?”

“Yes ma’am,” Nico said, standing up, wiping his cheeks dry as best he could.

“Ms Williams is out of surgery,” she said, smiling sadly as he let out a shuddering breath, “It all went okay but the doctor will tell you more.”

Oh fuck.

Oh thank fuck.

Counting his blessings indeed.

“She’s okay? She’s going to be okay?” he asked, more than a little desperate.

“Why don’t you come with me and see for yourself,” the nurse said kindly.

“I can see her?”

The nurse just gestured for him to follow her, which he wasted no time in doing.

“She’s still asleep, sweetheart,” the nurse said as they walked, “I don’t think she’ll wake up tonight, but she should be waking up just fine in the morning.”

“Should?!” Nico blurted.

What did she mean ‘should’?

The nurse just smiled softly at him. “I’m sure the doctor will tell you more – he’ll be by soon – but her head injury was only minor, no severe head trauma at all from what I understand, so should wake up just fine is the highest thing I can say.”

Nico huffed out a breath but nodded. “That’s fair enough.” That didn’t mean he had to like the uncertainty though. “Thank you for being honest.”

“She’s just through here. Stay as long as you need.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

As Nico stepped into the room, he couldn’t stop his eyes filling with tears. Seeing her unconscious body, with wires and tubes and bandages all over…it was almost too much. He sucked in a shaky breath, more of a sob than anything else, feet moving on autopilot to the far side of the room where he saw a chair. Nico dragged it right next to her bed, sitting down heavily, and gently picked up her hand with both of his, careful not to knock the IV inserted in her skin.

He'd never seen her so still before. It almost felt unnatural, seeing the woman he knew so hurt and so immobile. All of his memories of her were filled with energy and movement. Mila dancing around his kitchen to Top 10 hits, giggling as she tried to get him to dance with her too. Mila fiddling with a pen as she tried to fill in a sudoku, twiddling it in her fingers as her mind worked. Mila tapping a beat on the dining table, almost like drums as Nico brought out the dinner they’d cooked together. Mila stroking his thumb with hers while they watched TV, drawing nonsense patterns on his skin that he felt for hours after she stopped.

All these memories still so fresh in his mind, despite not seeing her for nearly a year. It wasn’t fair. Of all the people to end up injured and lying in a hospital bed – why her? Why Mila?

He didn’t know how much time passed as their relationship passed through his mind like a bad movie, before there was a knock on the door and a man in a white coat poked his head through the door.

“Doctor Miller. I consulted with the surgeon who operated on Ms Williams,” the man said, introducing himself as he entered the room.

Nico let go of Mila’s hand, standing up to shake his hand.

“Nico Hischier. Is Mila going to be okay?”

The doctor smiled a little, as if amused by his abruptness, but Nico didn’t care. He had to know.

“Ms Williams is going to be just fine. She may have a slight concussion, which we will monitor her for when she wakes up, but there was no bleeding in her brain or anything like that. The radius bone in her left forearm has a clean break, and will require a cast for at least 6-8 weeks. She has other superficial bruises and grazes and cuts that should all heal just fine as well. All in all, Ms Williams is a lucky woman indeed.”

Lucky. Is that what this was?

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll…I’ll cover all medical bills, however that works,” Nico said, voice shakier than he intended.

“Very well, I’ll have a nurse come by with the paperwork to sort that out. In the meantime, feel free to wait for Ms Williams to wake up – and if anything changes in her condition, press this buzzer to alert the nurses’ station.”

Nico just nodded, shaking the doctor’s hand again before the doctor scribbled a few things onto the chart at the end of her bed and left. It was all Nico could do to sit down in the chair again, taking Mila’s hand in his as he pulled out his phone to update Jonas.

To: Jonas Mila is out of surgery. Doctor said minor head injury with possible concussion, and a broken arm. Apparently she was lucky, whatever that means. I’m going to wait here until she wakes up.

All he did until he got a response was stare at her face, taking in the nasal cannula tubes with a heavy heart, watching her breathe slowly.

To: Nico I’m glad she’s out of surgery. Let me know if you need anything.

He didn’t need anything other than for her to wake up. That’s all he needed. That’s all he wanted. With a sigh, Nico sank deeper into his chair, squeezing her hand briefly, settling in for the long haul.

~~~

It felt like she was floating on a cloud, body heavy somehow though as well. Eyes heavy too. Why did everything hurt? Mila steeled herself to slowly blink her eyes open, not recognising the room, and swallowed heavily as she blearily glanced around. She was lying in a bed that wasn’t hers. Tubes. She could see tubes. She could feel tubes too. Her left arm…she couldn’t move it. Why? Beeping. A machine was beeping? And her right hand was touching something soft. Hair? Her hand was touching hair?

She carefully lifted her head, desperately trying to ignore the pounding headache already forming, spotting a head of hair resting next to her hand on the right side of the bed. A familiar head of hair, belonging to the guy she hadn’t seen in nearly a year. Surely it couldn’t be him. What was he doing here? What was going on?

“Nico?” she croaked.

He startled at the sound of his name, lifting his head sharply, and the look of sheer relief on his face made a weird lump rise in her throat.

“Mimi,” he breathed, smiling widely enough to send a pang through her chest, “You’re awake! Oh my god, you’re awake.”

“What’s going on?” she asked, not understanding.

Why was she here? Why was he here? Why did he look so happy to see her? What was going on?

“You’re in the hospital in Hoboken. You were in a car accident, Mimi. You’ve been unconscious since your surgery,” Nico explained, clutching her hand.

Car accident.

Surgery.

Mila swallowed heavily as memories came back as flashes. Driving on an icy road after finishing work late. Waiting at the traffic lights – bright and glaring in the dark night sky. Pulling out at the green light only for a car to smash into her from the left, barely hitting the back passenger door instead of her driver’s door head on. Hitting her head, her arm screaming in agony, everything fading. Pain. So much pain.

That explained a lot - but it still didn’t explain one thing.

“But why are you here?” she said softly, voice still a little rough.

Nico smiled a little nervously, letting go of her hand to run it through his unkempt hair. “I’m still your emergency contact.”

Of course. Of course. She let out a huff of frustration, tilting her head back briefly before looking at him properly again.

“Shit. I hadn’t even realised…I haven’t needed any medical care since we broke up. Wait, you came anyway, even though we haven’t spoken in over a year?” she asked, a little incredulous.

“How could I not?” he asked, confused.

“Dozens of reasons,” she said bluntly.

“Not for me. Never for me. The moment they said you’d been in a car crash…I dropped everything. I had to know that you were okay,” he said firmly.

“Nico…”

“No, Mimi, it broke me to see you lying so still and so hurt. I couldn’t…I just…”

Nico trailed off, voice full of emotion that she’d never seen in him before, and it made tears sting at her eyes to know that he’d been so worried about her after all this time.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m still here,” she said softly, taking his hand in hers, trying to reassure him.

“Isn’t it meant to be me comforting you?” he said, choking out a laugh.

Despite his laugh, all she could see in his face was how scared he was. How exhausted he looked. Exactly how sweet he was to still care after all this time. And that was it really, wasn’t it? He still cared about her, enough to race to the hospital the moment he’d heard she was hurt. Who does that? What ex-boyfriend does that?

Well, Nico Hischier, for a start.

Even with the fatigue and fear clouding his face, she still got butterflies when she looked at him, still felt those sparks of electricity in her veins. Losing him had been the worst moment of her life, aside from this car accident. Leaving him had been the hardest decision she’d ever had to make – at the time, she knew she’d done what they both needed, but now? Now all she could think about as he gripped her hand in his was exactly how much she’d missed him.

And she did miss him, so much. Devastatingly, if she was being honest with herself. When else was right to be honest with herself, other than in a hospital bed? But Mila had always been a practical person, protecting herself at all costs – just because Nico was here, just because he had rushed to her side, didn’t mean he missed her in the same way that she missed him.

She had to remember that, before she got carried away.

“I guess I should probably update my records, huh? Take your name off my emergency contacts?” she said, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Nico stayed silent for a moment, before looking up at her with an expression she couldn’t fully read.

“Or we could take this is a sign from the universe and go for coffee when you get released,” he said softly.

What?

Oh.

Oh.

She didn’t know what her face was doing, but Nico’s face suddenly turned serious, if not a little frantic.

“I have missed you so desperately for a year, Mimi. I was struggling without you, I’ll freely admit that. Anyone can tell you how lost I’ve been. Whether you believe me or not…I will always love you. I hate that it took a terrible car accident landing you in hospital for me to see you again, and I don’t want this to be the last time. Please, let me take you for coffee?”

His words consumed her body, filling her ears with a buzzing rush, her head swirling with all the emotions she hadn’t let herself feel in a long time. It wasn’t just her that missed him. He missed her. He still loved her. He wanted to keep seeing her. He wanted to date her?

It wasn’t until the door burst open and a nurse rushed in that she realised her heartrate monitor was beeping like crazy, her face flooding with heat at the embarrassment of her reaction being so openly visible like that.

“Well it’s good to see you awake finally, Ms Williams. That’s quite the spike in heartrate, is everything okay?”

“Yes?” she offered.

The nurse immediately turned to Nico, pursing her lips.

“I advise you not to make any dramatic declarations while Ms Williams is recovering,” she said curtly.

Now it was Nico’s turn to blush furiously, although he didn’t let go of her hand.

“Understood. Sorry,” he said, wincing.

The nurse hmphed, checking over the readings until she was satisfied, before turning to face Mila again. Whatever she saw on Mila’s face made her frown soften.

“Rest and relaxation, please. At least while you’re in here,” she said pointedly.

“I promise,” Mila said, wincing.

“We’ll see,” the nurse said dryly.

Mila valiantly ignored Nico’s poorly hidden smile as the nurse left them again.

“I am so sorry for dumping all of that on you. Please forgive me,” Nico said softly, once the door was shut and they were alone.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she said, just as softly.

“What?”

Mila chewed her bottom lip lightly, trying to choose her next words carefully. “One year was not enough time to get over you.”

Nico’s lips parted in surprise, his body frozen almost like it was rebooting, and it felt like an age before he slowly smiled.

“You still love me too,” he said, almost in wonder, as if he couldn’t believe the words he heard.

“I do,” she admitted, “I do love you, Nico, and I know it’s stupid but I never stopped.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s not,” he said firmly.

Mila just huffed out a laugh, shaking her head.

“It kind of is, though, because our relationship turned into something so empty and broken, and there was nothing we could’ve done to fix it. Neither of us could compromise on our careers. I wasn’t ready to settle into being second choice. You weren’t ready to step up when I needed you. We weren’t ready.”

“I’m ready now,” Nico blurted.

“Nico…”

“I’m serious, Mimi. I was such an idiot to lose you – the moment that you were gone I realised what a mistake I’d made not fighting harder. It took me too long to be in a state where I was able to do something about that, and by that time, it was too late. But I am ready now, to be with you in every way that you deserve. That we deserve. Please tell me I’m not too late?”

She swallowed heavily, eyes closing briefly as she processed his words. Words that she’d wanted to hear from him for so long. Emotions that he’d never had the strength or courage to show when they were together. It was satisfying to hear that he missed her the moment she was gone, but what difference did that make? It had been twelve months – what did this change? Was he too late?

Being honest with herself, listening to her heart, she knew the answer. No, no he wasn’t too late at all. She opened her eyes, looking back at his pleading expression.

“Coffee. We can do coffee,” Mila said softly.

The smile that spread across his face let her know that this was the right answer.