#man these last few chapters were like pulling teeth

[alterwilts]

This is going to be my first chapter in a multi chapter series, it’s my first ever time writing so I’m kinda nervous but here we go.

Bend the line don’t break it

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

The NCIS headquarters hummed with the usual rhythm of busy agents and techs moving through their routines. It was your first day with the team, and though you had been assigned to cybercrime cases for years, walking into the NCIS bullpen felt different. A little more… charged. There was a tension in the air that you could almost touch—part curiosity, part skepticism.

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs sat at his desk, reviewing case files, his back to you. The man’s reputation had preceded him, and you’d heard more than your fair share of stories. From what you’d gathered, Gibbs was a man of few words, intense focus, and an unsettling ability to read people.

Great. Just what you needed. A boss who was a known ass.

“New blood, huh?” came a voice from behind you. You turned to face a young agent who was leaning against a desk, eyeing you with an intrigued look.

“Yeah, new blood,” you replied, trying to keep things light despite the swirling nerves in your stomach. “I hear the coffee here is either life-changing or deadly. So, which is it?”

The agent chuckled, clearly impressed by your confidence. “You’ll find out soon enough. Just… be ready for Gibbs. He’s… uh, a lot.”

A lot. That didn’t sound too ominous, right?

You nodded, shooting him a half-smile before you made your way to Gibbs’ desk. He hadn’t moved, not even to glance at you. You were used to the pressure of making a good impression. But this man? This man was in a different league.

“Agent Gibbs?” you asked, your voice steady, though you could feel the edge of nerves creeping in.

Gibbs finally looked up, his expression unreadable. His eyes assessed you for a long moment, almost as if he were sizing up the competition. The silence between you felt like a test, one you hadn’t studied for.

“Yeah?” His voice was low, gravelly, and he barely moved an inch. The air around him seemed thick with authority.

“I’m the new cybercrime analyst,” you said, the confidence returning. “Ready to dive in.”

He didn’t smile. Didn’t say anything encouraging either. His eyes flickered toward the case file in front of him, as if he were already deciding whether or not he wanted you on this case.

“So, you’re the expert,” Gibbs muttered, his tone mocking in that subtle way that made your teeth grit. “We’ll see about that. Plus I already have one of those what did you say your title was”

“Cybercrime Analysts” You stood there, waiting for him to say something more, but he didn’t. Instead, he just gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, and pointed to the screen of his computer.

“Take a look at this. Tell me what you see.”

You didn’t hesitate, stepping closer to the desk and sliding into the chair. It was a mess of codes, algorithms, and encrypted messages. As you skimmed through the data, you couldn’t help but admire the complexity of it.

“Isn’t it a little… sloppy?” you asked, tapping the screen with one finger. “If this was an actual hacker, they’d know better than to leave such obvious traces. Whoever did this wanted us to find it. Or is an idiot”

Gibbs didn’t say anything. But his expression shifted, just slightly. His eyes narrowed.

“You want an dumbed down explanation because I’m not a big fan of the word doodymabobber”

His lips twitch at your comment into something that could have been a smile.

“You’re confident,” he said, the words heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. “And No, but let’s see if you’re right.”

You didn’t hesitate as you began pulling up more data, piecing together the puzzle. Gibbs didn’t speak for the next few minutes, but you could feel his gaze on you. It wasn’t critical, not exactly—but there was an intensity to it. A quiet pressure that made your pulse quicken.

Finally, you cracked it.

“It’s an inside job,” you said, sitting back in your chair. “And I’d bet my last dime if I had one that it’s someone from the upper ranks. The access permissions here are too specific—way too calculated to be a random hack.”

Gibbs leaned back in his chair, arms folded, his gaze still unwavering. “You’ve got a sharp eye,” he muttered, though there was a tone of something close to approval in his voice.

You met his stare, raising an eyebrow. “What, you think I’d get this far without knowing what I’m doing?”

For the briefest moment, you thought you saw a glint of something in his eyes—amusement, maybe, or respect. But then it was gone, replaced with his usual inscrutable expression.

“You talk a good game,” Gibbs said with a smug smile that made your stomach flip. “We’ll see if you can back it up.”

(Pls let me know what you think)

[pseudowoodo]

fandom: glee pairing: blaine/sebastian summary: au where the fire that burns Dalton Academy to the ground in s6 happens a few years early, forcing Sebastian to finish his junior year at McKinley. s3 rewrite from 3x14 onward.

chapter nine: faith to take chances words: 4200

They’re not even holding hands or anything when they walk into school together but they must be pretty obvious all the same because Trent looks immensely relieved the second he sees them. 

“Oh good, you worked it out,” he says before looking between them suspiciously. “You did work it out, didn’t you?”

“Yup, last night,” Blaine says, full on beaming.

“Well you could have let us know,” Trent admonishes. “You had us all worried.”

“Sorry, we were kinda busy,” Sebastian smirks.

[vivwritesfics]

Drive Me Crazy

Chapter Ten

None of you are used to pack dynamics. Unlike then, it made you near feral. There's nothing more they want than to build you back up.

Lestappen X Reader

Series masterlist

Your arms were wrapped around him, staring up at him as he spoke. He always spoke to the Italian press, speaking on behalf of the both of you. If you were paying attention you would have nodded along with his words, made it look like you knew what was going on.

Truthfully, you didn't have a clue, entirely distracted by him. His arm was around your shoulders, thumb moving so distractingly against your arm. You couldn't help but stare up at him, at his pretty face.

He had entirely captivated you. And he wasn't even trying.

Suddenly, he was staring down at you. Not at the interviewer, not at the camera. At you.

Your insides did flips.

"Birdy," he prompted, his fingers coming to hold your chin. Your lips parted as you kept staring, searching his eyes for the answer he was looking for. You couldn't speak it, but you could nod.

He dropped your chin, made it look as if he hadn't been prompting you. You weren't great with the media, not like Charles. This was the first time you had been allowed around the media without your muzzle and shock collar. Well, when Charles wrapped his arm around you and pulled you in front of the camera, there was no way your handler could pull you away.

Charles thanked the interviewer. You flashed your teeth, hoping it was a smile and not a threat. Funny, isn't it? How smiling wrong can make someone look.

"You did so good, Birdy," he whispered as he walked you back into the garage. You were still holding each other, you were still safely nestled against his side.

You could confidently say that race weekends had become one of your favourite things ever. The energy it took both hyped you up and helped to calm you down. There was no better feeling than a post race nap, if you'd finished with a good amount of points.

Race weekends also meant Max and Charles. They were the only drivers who would talk to you, who didn't still see you as a danger. But it had been weeks since you last snapped at someone, and that was in your F2 days.

The updates you got on Carlos Sainz were few and far between. Just that he was getting better but he was still a long way off racing. Good, that meant more time with Max and Charles. Of course, the second the thought entered your head you felt guilty. No, you didn't want to wish ill on the man, but you never wanted this feeling to end.

Charles walked you across the paddock. The moment he left you alone, your handler would be there, leading you around like you were some dog. Charles led you around but with a kind hand, with his arm around your shoulders and a kiss pressed to your temple.

You walked past the other garages, taking everything in. The smells, the sounds. You loved all of it. Even the different languages spoken throughout the F1 paddock was fascinating to listen to.

Dutch. And a familiar Red Bull shirt. He didn't notice you at first, and you didn't want to bother him while he conducted an interview.

Other drivers walked past you. One lifted his hand and gave you a wave. You knew him, raced against him before. Nut that was when you were back in F2, when he was supposed to go to Alpine. But now he was in McLaren, having success most almost rookies could only dream of (his rookie year was incredible, something to be celebrated).

You waved back, eyes lighting up. At the movement of your hand, Charles looked down. He glanced at Oscar and looked back at you. He tightened his grip on you as his heart swelled with pride. You were waving kindly at someone, not trying to bite their hands. You had grown so much.

"Birdy! Charlie!"

You lifted your head, looked towards Max. The cameras turned to you as you broke away from Charles and ran across the paddock. Max opened his arms for you and you ran into them. Muzzling yourself against his chest, you hummed in contentment. Even if you weren’t racing, being around Max and Charles was enough.

Media day was fun. Media day with Charles was fun. But race day was where you shined.

You sat in the car, waiting for the light to go out. When they did, you were off like a rocket, overtaking two of the cars in front of you as you went into the first corner.

It was a drive you could be proud of. The way you were going, you were on track for a podium,maybe even a win. A win in your rookie season, you were bound to get a seat after that. Was that really what you wanted, though? A career in Formula One?

You blinked, clearing away the thoughts. Anymore thoughts like that and you'd end up in the barrier, hopefully gaining a bad enough injury that you wouldn't get back in the car ever again.

"Box, box."

It pulled you from your ugly thoughts. Box, box. You had barely done ten laps yet. Too early for you to come in, according to your strategy. So, you drove past the pitlane. Max was right behind you, and you were unwilling to lose the leas to him.

"Box, box!" Your engineer insisted. "We have to retire the car.”

"No."

You didn't realise you had said it, but the silence on the other end of the radio was a dead give away. No. A word you hadn't been able to say in years. A word you had been too afraid to say in years.

Suddenly, there was a voice, a French accent. "Birdy, I'm sorry," said Fred. It was so strange to hear your team principles voice during a race. "But you have to bring the car in."

It was easy to listen to Fred. He kept his voice calm when talking to you. He made you want to bring the car in. So, you did as you were told. You pitted the car, and climbed out, trying to hide your disappointment. Keeping your helmet on kept any tears from escaping.

Sitting in the corner of the garage, with your helmet on, you waited. You waited for the race to finish. For the podiums and celebrations, for the drivers to be weighed and for them to return to the garage.

You didn't blame Charles for smiling as he walked in. A win under his belt. But it was a win that should have been yours. No, that was no way to think. You were happy for him, happy he was one step closer to catching Max in the championship.

"Where is she?" You heard him ask. An engineer must have pointed, because the next thing you knew he was in front of you.

His smile was so pretty. You could have stared at it for hours.

Sitting on the floor in front of you, Charles flipped up your visor. "There she is," he whispered. He moved to take your helmet off, but you shook your head. "C'mon Birdy. Gotta get you out of this thing. As soon as we've debriefed with the team, we can head home with Max."

Face the team. When your car had cost them points. You couldn't do it. But the way Charles was looking at you, making you feel as if you could do anything.

You didn't protest as he undid the strap beneath your chin and pulled your helmet from your head. Your hair was a mess, you were a mess, eyes shining with unshed tears. Putting your helmet to one side, Charles pulled you to your sheet. He whispered something in French and led you to your drivers room. "I'm gonna take you home to Monaco with me," he promised.

***

You were beginning to like travelling in style. Sat on Maxs private jet, sharing a seat with him as you had a drink. Maxs face was hot, arm around your shoulder as you leaned against him. It was just your second drink, but the most you'd ever had.

"We're gonna get you in a good car, Birdy," Max had said as you flew. "Get you in a Red Bull."

You had shaken your head at him, you remembered. Your head wasn't fuzzy, but the world around you was moving slower than it should have been. No more driving. You'd drive in the place of Carlos, and that was it.

There was no plans for you in Monaco. You were to stay with Charles, you knew that. Part of it had you giddy, but then your handler followed you into the car. "Don't worry," Charles whispered in your ear.

And you didn't have to worry, bc Charles dropped her off at a hotel. You could still picture your handlers face as Charles drove off, leaving her behind.

That left three of you in the car. We live in the same building, Max had explained to you the moment you realised he was still in the car. There were a few drivers that lived in the same building, but none of them drove there together.

Heading up to the apartment, you expected Max to go his own way. But he was still following you and Charles. You weren't complaining, though. You loved Maxs company, his and Charles's.

Charles let you and Max into the apartment. It was spacious, tastefully decorated with pictures of the f1 cars he had driven. Family pictures, too. Pictures with Arthur.

A piano was pushed against the wall.

The door shut and Max dropped his bags. He stretched his arms up and let out a yawn. "Want something to eat, Birdy?" He asked, but you were distracted, looking around at all the stuff a real f1 career could get you.

Charles rolled his eyes at you. He just found you so damn endearing. He followed Max into the kitchen, kissing him for the first time in days. You didn't witness it, though.

After getting himself something to drink, Charles wandered over to the piano. He sat down and pressed a couple of keys. You walked away from the window, standing behind him as Charles began to play.

Your body began to move. Just small movements, barely noticeable.

"Shut up, Charlie," Max called from the kitchen.

Charles stopped playing and you stopped moving. A whine left your lips and you moved forward, coming to sit beside him. "No," you said through a whine. "I liked it."

You weren't aware of how Charles was staring at you as your fingers hovered over the keys. You didn't know what to press to make sounds as pretty as Charles.

"You liked it," he whispered. "You liked it."

You nodded your head and folded your hands in your lap, waiting for him to continue playing.

So, that was what he did.

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[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Chapter 7

Summary: You struggle to relax as you recover from an injury.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

This chapter contains some badly written smut

Wanda is enjoying this far more than you. Having you home 24/7 seems like a luxury that won’t last long and she’s relishing every second of it.

You, on the other hand, are acting like a caged lion, restless and always looking for ways to pass time, though options are limited with your healing shoulder and bruised body.

This morning, you opted for a stroll while Wanda worked on some sketches. The woman has to do a double take when she’s on a coffee break, because it’s been 40 minutes since you left. And there’s only so much walking a person can do in this neighbourhood.

The answer lies a few houses down the block. Wanda’s walking and looking for you when she spots you in the porch of Agatha’s home. Mrs. Hart and Dottie are there as well, cups of tea and biscuits in a table.

You’re taking Mrs. Hart blood pressure, while she keeps talking about her latest medical appointment.

“Sweetheart” Wanda calls for you. “I need your help in the kitchen”

“Oh, Wanda, I’m so sorry. Y/N here was just walking by and we got talking. She’s so brave for saving that man’s life” Agatha places her hand in your bicep, slightly hoping it annoys Wanda.

“Yes, she is. But now she needs to rest”

“Ladies” you greet, standing up and sighing as you go down the steps. “Sorry” you mutter to Wanda.

“No need to apologize” she stands on her toes to peck your lips. You smile, taking her hand as you both walk back home.

“Next time you’re around I’ll need a physical exam, Doc” Agatha calls and Wanda is about to turn and tell her off when you pull her.

“Nu-uh. Let’s go” you say, sincerely afraid of Harkness.

Wanda remains silent for the rest of the walk and you think she might be upset. That is, until you close the door behind you and are abruptly pushed against it, Wanda’s hand pulling down on your shirt possesively.

“Do I need to tie you up?”

“I wouldn’t mind”

“That’s not what I meant”

“But, baby…”

“You’re still recovering” she warns, but you can tell she is considering it.

“My mouth is fine”  you whine as her lips approach yours. “Please, I have all this pent up energy, and I need some release”

“Is that what you need? Release?”

“Mhm” you nod, your nose bumping against hers.

“Fine” she finally kisses you, and it turns frantic. Wanda starts leading you upstairs, but you shake your head no, going for the couch instead. With the hand that isn’t in the arm sling, you tug at her yoga pants and she slips them down her beautiful legs, panties following suit.

“Come on, here’s your seat” you say, laying down on the couch. Wanda lowers herself, and almost screams when she feels your tongue working quickly around her bundle of nerves.

Without thinking, you suck harder and let your teeth graze her clit, but the feeling of pleasure is so unexpected that Wanda’s legs close around your neck, her knee digging in your bad shoulder.

“Ow, time out” you plead, pain shooting down your arm.

“I’m sorry, I…” Wanda pushes the hair out of her face, looking at you worriedly. “Are you ok? Should we go to the hospital?”

“I’m fine. No need to go and ruin Darcy’s day with the details of our sexcapades, my love”

“You sure?”

“Yes, come here” you ask, and she hesitates, until you pull her down to lie next to you on her couch. Realising she’s naked from the waist down, your hand travels to her ass, looking to squeeze the soft flesh.

“Stop” she warns with her mom voice. “You’re gonna hurt yourself. I thought I broke your neck a second ago”

“What a way to go” you joke, smiling as Wanda laughs against you.

—

Billy writes down in his notebook and you squint your eyes. Fractions are horrible, and how you wish you were helping Tommy with his art project instead.

So, you check the exercise again and sigh.

“I think that’s right, kiddo”

“You sure?”

How bad would it be to say “not at all”? You figure it wouldn’t be wise considering you’re the adult in the room, so you rub your eyes instead.

“I’ll check again after dinner, ok?” you promise, Wanda telling them to go wash their hands.

Going down the stairs, you find your girlfriend in the kitchen. She’s made an effort to cook anything you’re craving, and tonight’s feast is roast beef with potatoes.

“Delicious” you comment, pulling her so she’s pressing against your front.

“Thank you, I think you’ll like it”

“Wasn’t talking about the food” you pull her hair to the side, clearing the path to litter her neck with open mouthed kisses. “I’m not giving up on this even after what happened earlier”

“You mean how I almost broke your neck?”

“Almost being the key word, baby”

The protest dies in her lips as the kids join you in the kitchen. They set the table for the four of you, doing everything they can to keep you from hurting yourself.

Even as Wanda insists on slicing your portion, you drop the armsling, because you’re very picky about the way you cut your meat.

“Childish” she mutters under her breath and you glare, but smile the same.

Dinner is the usual stuff about classes, the upcoming school trip and how Billy thinks you’re so good with fractions.

They’re in the process of getting ready for bed when you Google the answers to the math exercises, and you’re only wrong twice.

Oh, well.

Once the kids are tucked in, you go back downstairs to clean up, Wanda following suit.

“Please let me”

“Come on, I gotta do something around the house”

“You already helped with Billy’s homework”

“Oh, that. I can’t wait for them to start doing square roots so I’m banging my head against the table”

Wanda laughs at that, settling on the countertop as you wash dishes.

“Yeah, I guess you missed the time where homework was easy. Like coloring, or learning vowels”

“Sounds better than fractions” you recognise.

“Don’t be long” Wanda asks, kissing your cheek and going upstairs.

Your shoulders drop a little, and you eye the armsling, but you’re tired of it and feel like it does more harm than good. Leaving it downstairs, you walk up to find your girlfriend preparing a bath.

“Might help relax” she says, and truthfully, you do feel a lot better when she’s taking off your clothes, hands delicately going over your skin. As she walks behind you to place a small kiss in your shoulder blade, her hands stops in a spot you’re always trying to hide.

“What happened to you?”

“Car accident” you say, not in the mood to delve deeper. Turning in her embrace, you unbutton her shirt, kissing down the valley of her breasts. Next are her pants, and you look up with a smile, helping her step out of them.

You sit in the bathtub, letting Wanda rest between your legs. Your hand goes up and down her arm, but your mind is elsewhere.

Especifically, in the pain that hasn’t stopped.

What if it’s something serious? What if you need surgery? And can’t do your job ever again?

It’s all you have, it’s who you are. You don’t know yourself outside of an OR, outside of grueling shifts and hospital walls.

“Can I ask you something?” Wanda interrupts your spiraling thoughts.

“I do think you’re the most beautiful woman on the planet” you say, kissing the spot between her neck and shoulder.

“No, it’s… uh” she hesitates, looking at her hands. “Did you ever think about having children of your own?”

“Oh” you say, frowning. “I don’t know, honestly. I guess all I ever figured out was what I wanted to be, you know? And it’s so demanding that I never thought I’d be a good mother”

“I just… talking about those early years. I love my kids but I don’t know if I’d do it again, start over with a new baby”

“I’m not holding my breath for that, sweetheart” you promise, kissing her temple. “And I’m a workaholic so it wouldn’t be fair to put you through it so you’re alone for a big part of the time”

“Are you sure? If it’s something you want, I can…” she turns around in your embrace, the water splasing a little. “I can try, maybe it’ll be nice”

“I love the way things are” you promise her, looking distractedly at her breasts. “Especially right now. Can you sit closer so I can pay attention to those two?”

“You’re incorrigible” she laughs, her hands going around your neck.

“And yet, you love it”

—

It was hard to sleep with the shooting pain down your arm, but you refused to take anything for it.

By the time you got some rest it was almost 4 AM, so you completely missed breakfast and driving the kids to school.

Probably for the best, since you’re in a foul mood.

“Hey, I have a meeting with Laura. Wanna come with?” Wanda says when you walk downstairs, changed into jeans and a t-shirt.

“Can you drop me off at the hospital?”

“Sweetheart, I know it’s driving you insane but you can’t go to work right now”

“It’s not… that” you say, struggling with your words. You’re so used to solving everything on your own, it’s hard to share that you have any discomfort.

When you were younger, it added to your mother’s stress because she had other things to deal with, so it only made everything worse at home.

“Are you ok?” Wanda asks softly, finally noticing the bags under your eyes.

“I’m just in pain and would like to check everything’s fine”

“Why didn’t you tell me? We should have gone to the hospital as soon as…”

“Wands” you say, overwhelmed at how much she cares. You pull her close, kissing her softly, and she melts against your lips. “It’s nothing serious, promise”

“Ok. Let’s get going, then”

She insists on going with you, but the meeting with Laura is happening, so you just convince her to pick you up as soon as it’s over.

Greeting the people at the front desk, you walk to the staff area, looking for any familiar faces. It’s empty, so the next place is the ER. The sound and rustling make you nostalgic, and there’s gotta be something really wrong with you, because it’s been five days only.

“Can I help you?” Darcy says behind you.

“Looking for a leprechaun”

“I have not missed you” she remarks, and you wanna say something back, but then you notice your ER board.

“Uh, what the hell did you do to my board?”

“It’s color coded!”

“This is an ER! Not arts and crafts, Lewis” you say, feeling like your heart is breaking at the sight.

“Fury likes it”

“Fury can go to… oh, hello, sir” you say, and he glares at you.

“You’re supposed to be resting”

“I have some pain… wanted to check with Carol if everything’s ok”

“Danvers is in the middle of surgery. Will be an hour or so before she’s free” he explains. “How bad is it?”

“A four, maybe” you lie, and he still looks concerned, because in all the years you’ve worked here, you never get sick or complain if you have anything bothering you.

“Get a CT, I’ll go tell her you’re here” he instructs, patting your good shoulder.

Darcy walks with you to get the CT, and once you’re done you both go to the cafeteria.

“Hey, you didn’t bring any cookies” Darcy complains as you pick up a muffin.

“Wasn’t planning on stopping by”

“How’s domestic life? You ready to retire?”

“It’s fine” you say with a smile, but as always, she can see through the bullshit.

“You look miserable. So, you’re either in a lot of pain or there’s something else”

“I just… feel bad that I don’t know how to rest. You know? I’m a workaholic, and Wanda knows it, but it used to be nice to get breaks and spend time with her and the kids. And now, I should just be relaxing and enjoying this time off but I’m so restless. And I wonder if I’m good for them. If I’ll enjoy going on holidays and spending a few days without work or I’ll promise to be there for something and then let work get in the way”

“Ok, first of all. Every surgeon is a workaholic, you know it. This was the only way we could survive and get as far as we did. But you’re acting as if you’re on an indefinite break. Your CT looks fine. In a week you’ll be back”

“Right. It was just so unexpected…”

“You’ve been working less, haven’t you? Spending more time with Wanda and her kids. That’s a major change. So don’t worry about still loving your job and wanting to do it. It’s who you are. And if Wanda loves you she’ll understand”

"Well, good thing she seems to be done having kids, too” you scratch your neck, thinking about last night’s conversation.

“I thought you wanted kids” your friend frowns.

“I never made up my mind… but if she says she’s done, it’s done”

“Interesting…” Darcy holds her chin, examining you. “I do remember you having baby fever when you did your Peeds rounds”

“Ages ago” you insist, smiling. You were good and you almost decided to focus in that area. But Trauma was always where your passion was.

Darcy’s pager beeps and you look at her with some jealousy, wishing you had somewhere to be.

“Gotta go. Danvers should be done soon. Chill, watch some tv, you’ll be back in no time”

“Thanks, mate. And I know, I’ll ask Wanda for some cookies”

You look around the cafeteria, and then wander the hallways. There are a few people in the ER, sitting and waiting for someone to call their names. Without knowing a thing about Darcy’s system, you pick up a file and say a name out loud.

The little guilt you feel at working when you’re clearly not supposed to is quickly forgotten as you help several people, looking at their X-Rays and writing prescriptions, the armsling tossed away.

That is, until you hear someone calling you across the room.

“Y/N Y/L/N” Wanda hisses. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You squeal, hiding behind a curtain. She pulls it and grabs the file from your hands.

“Did Doctor Danvers see you yet?

“She was in surgery and I was bored!” you complain like a little child.

“We’re finding her and then going home”

Doing all but pulling you by the ear, Wanda drags you around the front desk and asks for Carol, the nurses hiding a smile as you remain in the background, silent.

They tell Wanda that Carol will be in a few minutes, and you wait in one of the examination rooms, you sitting in the bed dangling your feet while Wanda answers an email from Laura.

“How did the meeting go?” you try to make ammends.

“Fine”

“Mmm” you nod, thinking it might be better to drop it.

It only gets worse when Carol walks in, thinking you’re the only one in the room.

“How’s it going, Princess?”

Wanda clears her throat, glaring at the blonde and you want to crawl in a hole and die. Not this again.

“Hey, Wanda. Didn’t see you there” she starts speaking in a rush. “What’s the matter? CT looks fine. Except for that horrible surgery they did on you”

“It was twenty years ago, Danvers” you roll your eyes, avoiding Wanda’s inquisitive stare.

“Ok, take your shirt off. O-or not, don’t” she says when Wanda glares.

“Make up your damn mind” you complain, oblivious to everything.

Wanda stands up, looking you in the eye. She smiles, taking your shirt in her hands and pulling it up. Might as well fucked you right then and there, with the way she looks at you.

Maybe it’s not so bad that she’s jealous of Carol.

“There” she says, and all you can do is focus on her lips. She stands back, sitting on the couch and waiting for Carol to examine you.

“The pain has been recurring, right? What changed?”

“It’s more persistent and intense”

“Have you been taking painkillers? Anything else?”

“Nothing, Doc”

Carol sighs.

“We really are the worst patients” she grumbles. “You have nerve damage, we knew that already. The armsling might be making it worse. Use this instead”

She passes a brace that supports your shoulder and allows you to move freely.

“Wooho, this one is way cooler!”

“Wanda, can you make sure she takes these meds? It will help with the swelling” Carol turns to you. “If you rest properly, you can go back to work in ten days”

“Ten days? I want a second opinion”

“A second opinion would be to try surgery and fix that nerve” she says, knowing Stark would agree.

“Fine. Meds and rest” you grumble, putting on the brace.

“One last thing” Carol says and you’re about to ask what is it when she blind sides you, inyecting something on your muscle.

“That’s low even for you” you complain, feeling the burn.

“That will relax you for a few hours, pal”

“Mmm. Thanks, Carol”

“Anytime. Bye, Wanda”

Your girlfriend thanks her, taking your hand and walking you to the exit, hoping you’ll finally get some rest.

“Who did this?” Darcy fumes from the ER and you rush, dragging Wanda.

“Run, now”

For the second time in the day, someone calls you by your full name, this time sounding less forgiving.

“You messed up the system!” Darcy says, watching you run like a coward. “You’re dead to me”

Wanda laughs at that, and you smile, hoping her mood has improved ever since she caught you working.

“Want anything special for lunch?” Wanda asks as she drives back home and you can’t really think of anything.

“Cuddles and a nap with my beautiful girlfriend” you say, feeling the medicine relaxing you. “Damn it, Carol probably gave me a horse tranquilizer”

“That’s what you get for being so stubborn”

“I am not stubborn” you insist, proving her point.

By the time you’re home, your feet feel heavy. Wanda almost has to carry you to the bedroom, where you plop down.

You feel her taking off your shoes and you honestly try to sit up and help, but Carol really outdid herself with whatever it is she gave you.

Lucky she’s a doctor and not a dealer.

“Wands” you mutter.

“Shh, I’m here. Get some rest”

—

Your mouth feels dry, limbs heavy. Like a hangover, but without the fun part.

“M’gonna kill Carol” you sigh, rubbing your eyes. Wanda’s laugh by your side makes you turn and you smile. “Hey, gorgeous”

“Feeling relaxed?”

“Very. I’m just thirsty”

As if she was a mind reader, Wanda nods towards the nighstand next to your side of the bed, where a glass of water is waiting for you.

“You’re so perfect” you say once you gulp it down, breathing and stretching. “Where are the kids?”

“Soccer practice.”

“Oh, sorry about falling asleep. We could have been watching a movie or something” you try to sit up, but Wanda pulls you down, scooting closer to you.

“I just want you to rest”

“I’m not gonna break if I do other stuff”

She doesn’t answer and you lie down, looking at her.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry” is all she says and you frown. “For everything that happened with Steve”

“You already apologized. It’s in the past”

“I just want to give you everything, and take care of you. I wish I knew how to make you feel better when you’re in pain”

“You’ve been cooking and helping me do everything for the past week, love”

“Anyone could do that”

“No, you’re the only person who could make it all better by just being here” you say, your hand moving the hair out of her eyes. “I’m damn lucky to have you on my side, Wands”

“I… can I ask about the accident? I feel like I know bits and pieces. Though if it’s too painful”

“I was with my Dad” you say, sighing. “Someone else ran a red light and crashed into us. He didn’t make it. It’s just… there’s no point in dwelling on it. It happened, and no amount of grieving can change it. So I don’t”

“Ok”

“I’m not the best person to be with” you admit. “I’m very much addicted to my job, I don’t have a family that is worth talking about. It’s just me, and whatever happens that day in the ER. Maybe that’s why I struggle with being away from the job. There’s nothing else besides that”

“It’s not just you, not anymore. You have us” Wanda promises, kissing your hand. You smile, nodding.

“I know. I love you”

“Love you too.”

—

You finally found some things to do. Wanda would give you drafts to read, surprised at how good your literary insights were.

“Laura might have competition” she joked once.

As for other forms of entertainment, you were currently picking up on your Project Runway obsession even though you were just rewatching season 8, arguably one of the most dramatic ones.

The arm was a lot better and the pain subsided, which was great news. On the other hand, Carol would never shut up about being the best Ortho surgeon in the whole country.

Still, there was one thing you were hoping to do, taking advantage of all the hours you had alone with Wanda.

Thinking it would be better to just catch her off guard, you were in bed, reading another one of her drafts when she came by the room, stretchig her back.

“Tired, my love?” you say with a sympathetic smile.

“A tiny bit. I was thinking we could get pizza tonight? I’m not in the mood for cooking”

“I’m paying for it”

“You’re paying for groceries and everything else these days” she protests.

“What can I tell you? I like to spoil my girl”

Wanda blushes at that, straddling your lap and leanig down to kiss you. You smile, eager to feel her lips on yours, but also, anticipating her reaction as she feels what’s hidden in your pants.

The way she gasps against your mouth sends a shiver down your spine.

“What are you…?”

Your good arm wraps around her waist, making her rub against the strap on.

“A surprise for you” you say, your nose against her neck, leaving open mouthed kisses. “Unless you don’t want to try it. We can just forget about it”

“No, I- but your arm”

“Well, you could be a good girl and ride my dick” you half joke, not expecting the words to have such an impact on her. Before you can react, she’s reaching down between your bodies.

“I wanna see you” she asks, out of breath. You let her pull your pants down, revealing the harness briefs you’re wearing and the plastic cock attached to them.

“What do you think?” you say, one of your thumbs traveling to her mouth, and she eagerly accepts the intrusion, sucking on your finger. She bites it as you pull out, pupils dilated.

Operating on her desires, Wanda moves down your body, until she’s eye level with the strap. Even though you can’t feel it, the sight of her tongue darting out to lick the tip makes your hips buck, pushing inside without a warning.

But she’s a good girl, and takes it all with enthusiasm, her hands on your hips as you fuck her mouth. The friction against your clit makes your breath quicken, and aware that Wanda’s gagging, you stop moving, pulling her away by the hair.

“Show me how good you can take it, baby” you say, smiling. Wanda doesn’t waste any time, discarding her own pants and placing both hands on the side of your face.

You move your hips up a couple of times, teasing her entrance, until you pull her hips down, and you have to look down, admiring the way her hole swallows every inch, Wanda’s face contorted by pleasure.

Once you bottom out, you give her a few seconds to adjust, and only move when she rocks forward, moaning at the way it feels to be so full.

“Look at you, made to take my cock. Fits so fucking perfectly inside that tight cunt” you taunt, squeezing her neck.

Wanda clenches as you choke her, overwhelmed by all the pleasure she’s feeling.

“Come on, fuck yourself on my dick” you challenge, and she begins moving, slow at first, and then faster, her hips finding a rhytm as you let go of her neck, hand going down to pinch her nipples.

The touch catches her off guard, and she somehow changes positions in your lap, the strap going deeper and hitting just the right spot.

“Oh, God…” she mutters, losing herself in the feeling of being full, riding you as your hands roam around every inch of her beautiful body. “I’m close, please”

“Please, what?”

“Please, make me come” she stutters, her hips moving erratically as she approaches her climax. You let your hand travel down, and as you play with Wanda’s clit, the woman lets out a moan, juices spilling down her legs and between your bodies.

Wanda collapses on top of you, breathing heavily. You wait until she calms down to pull out, trying to do it without hurting her.

“Stay inside” she pleads, and the desperation in her words makes you want to fuck her again.

“You did so good, baby” you smile against her temple. “Just relax, I got you”

—-

You had created a horny, hot, insatiable being.

Whenever you were alone in the house, you were usually packing because Wanda would just barge into the room, kiss you like she was running out of time, and then would just push her underwear aside, moaning and panting until she was satisfied. She went at it two or three times each day, even at night though you had to be quiet to not wake up the twins.

How you loved being used for her pleasure, and watch as she was all disheveled when she came, breathing against your neck and repeating how much she loved you and how much she needed you.

Once, you are almost caught by Agatha. This time, you initiate it, approaching Wanda as she makes lunch in the kitchen. Your arm snakes around her middle, hand going up and down until you pinch her nipple through the fabric of her t-shirt. When Wanda arches her back, her ass rubs against the strap, and she moans, allowing you to take her from behind.

“Look at you, taking me so fucking well” you say, spanking her. She moans against her arm, enjoying the new angle and the way your hands grab handfuls of her ass, the soft flesh turning red.

 In that precise moment, there’s a knock at the door. You turn at the same time, and while Wanda seems to be trying to gather her thoughts, you keep pushing inside of her.

“Wanda, are you home?” Agatha says.

“Go on, answer her. Tell her you’re getting fucked from behind, baby” you taunt, determined to make her come.

“If she sees us…”

“Better hurry then” you mutter, hips moving faster until you feel Wanda’s legs shake, hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming.

You pull out, and force Wanda on her knees. She can’t stand up, as Agatha looks through the window, waving at you. The lower half of your body is hidden by the countertop.

“Do you have any eggs I can borrow?”

“We’re out of those” you lie, moving your hips forward until Wanda gets the hint and licks the strap clean. “I’m going to the store later today, I’ll get some extra for you”

“You’re such a dear. Is Wanda working?”

“Oh, yes. She’s hard at work” you say, smiling.

“If you ever feel lonely, come by and visit me, dear” the woman winks, turning to leave. You keep Wanda in place, fucking her mouth until the pressure on your clit makes you get some release.

“I’m not done with you” you say, pulling her up. “It’s a damn shame you couldn’t be as loud as you wanted before”

Wanda looks confused, or maybe it’s the orgasm she just had. Either way, you guide her upstairs, and she quickly gets on all fours, ass up in the air again.

“Better be screaming my name when I’m done with you”

Of course she did. And you’re pretty sure those screams could be heard all the way to Agatha’s house.

—

“I’m gonna be late for work” you say, not really caring. Wanda’s on your lap, grinding against you. There’s nothing under your scrubs today, because, well, it would be awkward to work while packing all day.

Who knew you’d end up wanting more free time, and all because Wanda can’t go five minutes without getting fucked.

“I’m gonna miss you” she whines, biting down on your earlobe and you moan.

“Baby, you’re not playing fair”

Maybe calling in sick won’t be such a bad idea. Your colleagues will understand. It’s not like they’ve been covering for you for two weeks.

Right.

“I have to go” you sigh against her lips, searching her eyes. You hope she can understand.

“I know, I’m sorry”

Wanda smiles and the way she runs her hands down your cheeks melts your heart.

“I love you. Thank you for helping me heal these past weeks. And I’m sorry for being so difficult at times, my love. I’ll make it up to you”

“I love you too” she smiles, leaning her forehead against yours.

With that, you get ready to drive to the hospital. You’re still wearing the brace Carol gave you, more as a precaution. Wanda also gives you a whole batch of cookies and you suspect Darcy will steal most of it.

You say goodbye at the front door, promising to call her when you have time.

“Welcome back, doctor Y/L/N”

Kate Bishop is the first to greet you, waiting in the ER.

“Thank you, Kate. Did I miss anything big these past few days?”

While you go over some files, she makes the rounds on patients that have been here for the past days and are getting discharged soon.

You go back to the ER to review paperwork and she sticks around, which seems weird.

“Shouldn’t you be around the halls to see if you can scrub in on something?”

“Uh…”

“Look, if they told you to babysit me, don’t worry about it. I can handle this alone”

“That’s not… remember how I hadn’t made up my mind about a specialty? Well, I did. I want to be a Trauma surgeon” she smiles, hoping you’re happy about it.

“Wow! Congrats, Bishop” you can’t help but bring her in for a hug. “Everyone else had their student, but me”

“Well, you have yours now. I can’t wait to learn, Sir. Ma’am. Doctor” Kate stumbles with her words and you pat her back.

That very second, two people walk in, screaming something about their Halloween decoration and a freak accident.

“Let the lessons begin, kid”

And so, you spend the better part of the shift stabilizing a patient and working with Stark to stop a brain bleeding from a falling pumpkin.

“It’s that time of year again” he says, and you sigh.

“What is?” Peter looks around the table.

“You wouldn’t believe the amount of freak accidents when holidays are around” Stark says. “Well, Dr. Y/L/N knows better than me, she’s the one treating everything”

“Cuts while carving pumpkins, blazing Jack-O-Lanterns, food allergies for kids”

“Tripping with their too long ghost costumes” Stark adds. “Learn that the hard way with Morgan”

“Gotta warn Wanda about that” you grimace.

“Ah, yes, the missus” Stark says, and you can’t see a lot of his face but you can tell by his tone that he is ready to tease you.

“Careful, Doctor Stark”

“I’m just saying, everyone thinks it’s cute. Morgan loves her and their art lessons too. Plus, it’s nice to see a doctor dating someone outside of the hospital. I’m so done with all the hook ups, it’s nearly impossible to find an on call room to rest”

“You own the hospital, can’t you do something about the rooms?”

“Not without causing a meltdown for HR” he says and you both chuckle.

“It is nice to be with someone who thinks you’re crazy for wanting to be working for two straight days. Gives you perspective”

“Precisely” Stark agrees. “Well, Peter can close him up”

“Meet you back at the ER, doctor Bishop”

You nod, going to the scrub room to wash your hands.

“Carol told me about your little nerve thing”

“Of course she did”

“There’s a great chance for the procedure to work, it’s also non invasive. Recovery time is…”

“I’ll think about it. But it hasn’t been bothering me anymore. Maybe it was just the shoulder injury”

“Yeah, maybe. But you know how it is. Wouldn’t you want to be completely sure you’ll be fine holding your baby one day?”

“Wanda is done having kids so that’s not a particular concern of mine” you say in an even tone.

“Really? With the way she looks at you, it almost seems like she wants you to knock her up”

“Tony” you elbow him, and he cackles.

“Just saying. Your kids would be cute”

“Are you having baby fever and trying to drag me with you?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Maybe” he winks as you leave the scrub room.

Still, the conversation leaves you thinking about Wanda and as soon as you’re out of the OR you call her.

“You’re on speaker, my love” she says, making you smile.

You can hear Billy and Tommy rushing to her side, speaking over each other.

“Woah, woah, one at a time”

“I got an A in my Science paper!”

“I scored a goal in practice”

“Way to go, kiddos. Can’t wait to hear all about it”

“We miss you” Tommy says, which makes you strangely emotional.

You never had someone say that to you.

“Miss you too” you admit.

“Go wash your hands, say bye to Y/N” Wanda waits a little and then talks to you again. “You’re still on speaker because I’m finishing dinner”

“No dirty talk, got it” you chuckle.

“How’s the day so far?”

“Oh, we had a freak accident with Halloween decoration which reminds me, don’t put anything until I’m there to help?”

“Ok, I won’t” she agrees.

“And Kate, you remember her? She’s a resident and today she told me she wants to be a Trauma surgeon so I guess I am officially her teacher”

“Congratulations, she got the best one”

“Yeah, it’s just a lot of responsibility, I guess” you chew on your lip, thinking about everything you’ll have to teach her. It’s not just the medical side, it’s about handling the stress and the pressure of helping people in the worst situations.

“I’m sure you’ll do great” Wanda says, knowing your sudden silence means you are overthinking. “Is the shoulder ok? Promise me you’ll eat something and get some rest”

Your pager interrupts the moment and Wanda groans.

“I’m afraid I can’t keep that promise, love of my life. Will talk to you later”

“Love you”

“Love you too”

Kate meets you in the ER and you’re suddenly dealing with a car accident and four patients, two of them children.

“Page Maria and Carol, this is gonna be a long night”

“And my shift is just starting” Darcy says behind you and you turn, excited to see your best friend.

“Missed me?”

“Not a bit”

But you know she’s full of it. You scrub in together, and she updates you on all the gossip you missed, using codenames no one else knows about.

“Did you hear Doctor Bishop is my new apprentice?” you say when you let her close the patient.

“Congrats, you finally got a minion”

“Wanna get one for you?”

“Ugh, no, you gotta water them twice a week and it’s too much trouble. I’m fine just being an attending” she rolls her eyes.

You’re about to go on a lecture about the importance of teaching and mentoring when Kate curses, and the patient begins to crash.

“Move” you say, stepping in to check what’s wrong.

“See?” Darcy says.

Though Kate didn’t do anything wrong, you ended up an hour more in the OR to make sure everything was ok.

When you’re done it’s close to dawn and you’re exhausted. Darcy finds an empty room and you plop down in one of the beds, sighing. It’s too early to call Wanda. You remove the brace to rest your shoulder.

“Do you think people ever considered we were hooking up?” you ask your friend, remembering the conversation with Stark. It’s just a funny thought, but Darcy let’s out a groan.

“Ugh, I hope not”

“Excuse me?” you sit up. “It sounds like you’re offended by the idea”

“You’re just not my type”

“So hot and successful is not your type?”

“You’re too tall!” she shouts.

“You’re too small!” you say, turning around so she only sees your back. “Garden gnome”

“Big foot” she whispers and you both laugh.

—

“Wanda, baby” you moan, kissing the… pillow?

Your pager wakes you up, and you look around the room, confused.

“I’m trying to sleep” Darcy complains.

“So was I” you say, checking your phone. It’s nothing related to the ER, so you go to the room where you’re called to.

“How can I help...” you walk into the room, and are surprised to see Wanda sitting in the bed. “Baby, hey! Wait, are you ok? Did you hurt yourself?”

“I’m fine” she says, appreciating your concern. Still, you check every inch of her body, hands holding her face gently. “I drove Agatha here”

“Why?” you frown.

“She cut herself while carving out a pumpkin”

“Halloween is always like this. I hate it” you mumble, and Wanda laughs.

“Don’t be such a party pooper. What’s wrong with dressing up and getting candy?”

“Trust me, spend a night in the ER with people who thought it would be a good idea to bring a real chainsaw to a party and you’ll agree with me”

“Well, I’ll have to change your mind about it” Wanda bites her lip, pulling you closer. “Maybe wear something real nice to cheer you up”

“I’m listening” you say, moaning against her mouth when she finally closes the distance. God, you forgot how good it feels to have her in your arms. “I should go check on Agatha”

“Your little student is taking care of her. Plus, I have a few symptoms of my own I’d like to ask about”

“Ok, what is it?”

“I have heart palpitations… and something like a flutter in my stomach. It’s hard to focus sometimes, too”

“When does this happen?” you play along, smiling as Wanda pulls you in between her legs.

“When I'm thinking about my girlfriend fucking me real hard”

“Babe” you sigh against her lips.

“Nu-uh. You’re working” she smiles, happy to see you so worked up.

“Mean”

Wanda laughs against your temple, her hands running up and down your arms.

“When does your shift end?”

“Tomorrow morning. Which would give me enough time to get ready for Laura’s party”

“You remembered” Wanda says, shocked.

“Well, yeah”

“I told you a month ago”

“And I wrote it down so I didn’t forget. You told me it was important for me to be there” you smile, unaware of the impact a little gesture like that could have in Wanda.

“I changed my mind, I need you to fuck me here”

You open and close your mouth a few times, looking at the door and then at Wanda. Yeah, you’d be crazy to let that chance slip.

Undoing the butto of her jeans, your hand moves as much as possible in the confined space, rubbing her clit through her underwear until Wanda is panting against your ear.

The woman finishes with a groan that you muffle with your lips, worried someone might come in.

Still, when you both leave the room, a bit disheveled and blushing, Stark glares and you wink.

“At least it’s not an on call room, Tony”

Wanda follows you to the ER, where Kate is finishing with Agatha’s stitches.

“Took your sweet time, Wanda” Agatha says, and you try to hide your smile.

“Sorry, that was my fault. But I’m here now and I’ll make sure everything is fine. Nice work, Doctor Bishop. Mrs. Harkness is a vital member of our community”

“Oh, darling, aren’t you a dear?” Agatha laughs, patting your arm. “Careful, Wanda, I might steal her from you”

You’re pretty sure Wanda’s response is not gonna be a nice one, but then you’re interrupted by the forensic that works at the morgue.

“Yo, Y/L/N. Can I get your name here?” Rio asks, her tone even and deadpan expression making her look bored, as usual.

“Sure, Death. There ya go”

Rio looks at Agatha for a second too long and then smiles to herself.

“I love to play with knives too” the brunette says, winking at your neighbour.

Wanda and you share a look, as if you’re wondering if Rio is the answer to all your problems.

“Who was that?” Agatha says, enthranced.

“Rio Vidal. We call her Death because she’s at the morgue, doing autopsies. Seems like she likes you”

“Could I… can you give her my phone number?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll go straight to the morgue and make sure she has it, Agatha” you promise.

Once Kate finishes with closing the wound, Agatha tells Wanda they better go, so you’re free to find Rio.

“See you in 24 hours, my beautiful girlfriend” you promise, kissing Wanda.

“Lovebirds, wrap it up. Vámonos”

“Ugh” Wanda rolls her eyes. Maybe she liked Agatha better when she pretended to be nice to you to upset her.

“Smile, darling. Let’s hope Rio keeps her busy for the next few weeks”

“Or centuries” Wanda jokes and you laugh, kissing her softly.

—

A 48 hour shift when you just got back to work was not your best idea. As you park in your driveway, you text Wanda to let her know you’ll shower and rest a bit before you leave at noon.

You almost fall asleep standing in the shower, but snap out of it and clean yourself up so you can get a nap.

Once you wake up, it’s a little before noon so you get some time to change into pants, a t-shirt and sneakers.

“Well, hello there” you admire Wanda’s figure in a sundress. “Am I underdressed?”

“It’s a barbecue, baby, you’re fine” she smiles, pulling you inside and cornering you against the door. “Missed you”

“Missed you too” you sigh against her lips.

“Mom, have you seen my shoes?” Tommy says from upstairs and you laugh.

It takes the twins a couple more minutes to get ready, but once they go down and see you, they’re both buzzing with excitement.

The whole car ride is spent asking them questions about their day. As soon as you park, though, they are out the door, eager to greet Cooper and Lila.

You carry the pie Wanda made and put it on a table full of food.

“Wow, it’s kinda nice to live outside the city” you say admiring the entire property. Wanda had told you they lived in a farm, but you thought it was a figure of speech. “Maybe we need to get something like this, babe”

“Wanda, glad you could make it. You must be Y/N” a brunette approaches you, and you squeeze her hand.

“Nice you meet you, Laura”

“I hear you already know my husband”

“Yeah, we’ve had our share of work stuff” you nod, hand going to your shoulder.

As if on cue, Clint shows up holding a baby that is getting restless.

“Sweetheart, did you feed Nathaniel? Oh, hey Wanda. Y/N”

“I just fed him. Can you take care of him for a bit? I gotta make the mashed potatoes”

“Why don’t I…” you suggest when the baby starts crying. His eyes widen at the shift and then stares at you. Holding your breath, you expect him to begin hollering but he just laughs, curious about your hair. “There we go”

“Oh, wow. Wanda, you should have mentioned this sooner” Laura says, amazed at how Nathaniel seems to be so at ease with you.

“Come on, little prince. Let’s walk around the party for a bit. Say bye to Mom and Dad”

“I’ll catch you later, gotta help Laura for a bit” Wanda says, finding it hard to look away from you.

“Ok, darling” you say, balancing Nathaniel in your arms.

You walk around the Barton’s property, waving at the twins and their friends. Nathaniel bounces around in your arms, wanting to play with his siblings.

“What are you up to, kiddos?”

“We’re gonna play hide and seek. Wanna join us?” Billy says.

“Gotta look out for Nathaniel, but enjoy”

Across the field, some of Clint’s friends are playing soccer. Nathaniel seems interested in the ball, so you stand on the edge and let him follow it with his eyes. At one point, one of the guys throws it your way by accident and you’re able to stop it with your foot, without dropping Nathaniel.

There’s a chorus of whistles and one of the man approaches.

“Hey, you must be the cutest babysitter I’ve seen”

“I’m a guest of Clint and Laura” you say, ignoring his advances. “And you are a hazard to babies. Goodbye”

Wanda is following your every move from the kitchen, and she’s reluctant to admit that the image of you holding a baby so confidently is doing things to her.

“There are kids present” Laura teases and she laughs.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Can’t say that I blame you. She looks good with a baby”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know, we talked about it and she seemed to be indifferent to the idea. Or maybe it was because I tried to brush it off” Wanda sighs, cutting up more fruit. Truth is, she did wonder what it would be like, to have a partner that was with her every step of the way.

She loved her boys, but she had done everything on her own. Sometimes Pietro and her parents would help, but she didn’t have a spouse that would be her companion in every sense of the word.

“Well, I don’t think she’s completely convinced about it either” Laura points your way, and you’re making Nathaniel giggle with silly faces.

“Diaper change” you announce a moment later; walking to the living room. “I can do it”

“Thanks, you’re a sweetheart” Laura says, pointing at the diapers and wipes. Wanda takes a break from the cooking, to check if you need any help.

To her surprise, you’re changing the diaper expertly. In one swift motion, it’s all done and cleaned. Your girlfriend joins in, talking to Nathaniel while her hand runs up and down your back.

“We’re missing a player, wanna join us?” Clint calls from the door. Wanda takes Nathaniel from your arms, and you kiss her cheek.

When you walk to the field, the same man that spoke to you before approaches.

“Hey, we got off on the wrong foot. I’m Sam Wilson” you arch an eyebrow, staying silent. “Come on, can I at least get your name?”

“I’m Y/N”

“Ok, Y/N. Why don’t we make it interesting? If I score a goal, I can ask you something about yourself”

“Well, what do I get if I score?” you say, smiling.

“Whatever you want, gorgeous”

You look around the field, spotting Lila playing with some nail polish.

“Lila gets to do your nails”

“Alright. Let’s go”

It’s funny, how Sam and his team think they have to go easy on you. It takes them two goals to catch up and realise they’re not letting you win.

You’re making them lose big time.

Throwing some turns and dribbles, you make Sam lose his footing, jumping over him to kick the ball one last time and score another goal.

“That’s three versus zero, Sam” you pat his back.

“One last shot” he says. You roll your eyes, too tired to argue with him. This time, you run around with the ball but do a simple kick that he can intercept.

“Yes. Goal!” he stops mid dance to turn to you. “My question is, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Nope” you answer, smiling as you can see Wanda approaching you. She walks past Sam, jumping into your arms and putting her legs around your waist. She kisses you, groaning against your mouth when you bite her bottom lip.

“She does, however, have a girlfriend” Wanda says, getting down. “Food’s ready”

“I’m starving” you say, letting Wanda pull you to the table, leaving Sam behind, confused and exhausted.

—

It was a wonderful party. There was plenty of food, playing and cleaning to do. In the end, the twins wanted to stay over to play with the Barton children.

Laura said it would be no trouble, and you voluntereed to pick them all up the next day to go to the movies or anything else.

“Had the best time today” you say, stretching in Wanda’s bed. She stays silent for a second and you sit up. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, I’m just…” she interrupts her beauty routine to turn and look at you. “Would it be a mistake to tell you that maybe, I still want to have another baby?”

“Am I that irresistible holding a toddler?” you wiggle your eyebrows and Wanda let’s out a laugh, relieved that you’re not freaked out by what she just said. You stand up, kneeling in front of her. “I think having a little baby girl that looks like you would be the best thing ever. I also know having a kid involves a lot of changes and planning. But I can’t think of anyone better to do it with”

“So… why don’t we just leave that door open?” Wanda says, looking at her lap where your hands are clasped together. “For now”

“Yes, my love” you nod, kissing the tip of her nose. You’re about to stand up when she pulls you down by your shirt, this time in a rougher kiss.

“I got us something” she says, breathing heavily.

“Oh?”

“We don’t have to use it if you don’t want to”

“Now I really need to know what it is, Wanda” you say, the exhaustion of the past days leaving your body at the idea of having sex with your girlfriend.

“Get in bed and close your eyes”

You nod, excitedly waiting for her to reveal what she got. You hear her drawer open and close, and your heart beats faster.

“Ok” she says, and as you open your eyes you don’t notice anything different, until you look at her hand.

“Oh” you pick up the strap, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s a…”

“I know what it is” you say with a smile, checking that it is indeed hollow. Out of curiosity, you squeeze it and a stream of lube shoots out of the tip. “Shit. Sorry, love. I’ll last longer next time”

“You’re an idiot” she laughs, hiding her face in her hands.

“So, wanna try it?”

“I do, yeah… uh, it’s a fantasy of mine to feel you, as if, finishing inside. I mean, I know it’s just something different but… yeah” she turns red, looking between you and the strap.

“No need to feel ashamed, my darling. I like to be tied up, if you want us to share some kinks”

“That would be amazing” she says, a little out of breath. “But if we do all of that, I might not survive, so, just one thing at a time?”

“Of course” you smile, placing the strap on the nighstand. “Come here”

You let Wanda sit on your lap, and you begin to kiss her, taking your time and alternating between running your tongue down her lip and letting it explore the inside of her mouth.

“This toy is a bit bigger than what we’ve used before, so why don’t I… get you nice and ready, huh?” you whisper hotly, pulling her underwear to the side. Without waiting for an answer, you collect Wanda’s juices in your fingers, prodding at her entrance and stretching her. When you bring a finger to your mouth and suck, Wanda’s mouth opens, hypnotized by your movement. “Lie on your back and get that dress off. I wanna taste that pussy”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, and you watch with a smile as she discards the dress, waiting in her matching lace set.

“What a good girl” you purr, crawling until you’re close to her center. You kiss the inside of her thighs, and then pull down her panties, slick coating the fabric.

Wanda arches her back when she feels your mouth on her cunt, holding your head in place. You let her dig her nails in your scalp, moving against your face until you have her arousal on your chin and lips.

“Feeling ready to take my cock?” you say, standing up to take off your clothes. Wanda is so worked up that she barely listens to you, watching as you adjust the strap around your hips.

Before you can get back to bed, Wanda leans forward, licking the shaft.

“Fuck” you say, admiring how the cock disappears inside her mouth, and she looks so pleased licking it that you’re tempted to squeeze and have the lube run down her throat.

Maybe later, you decide when she breaks apart, gasping for air.

“I’m not waiting any longer to be buried inside you” you say, pushing her so she’s on her back again. “Ready?”

“Please, just fuck me already” she says, canting her hips up.

“So desperate. And all just so you can have my cum inside you, is that right?” you taunt, letting the tip in and watching for any sign of discomfort.

Wanda bites her lip and the way she looks at you makes your hips jerk, introducing more of the toy. The woman moans, her nails digging in your sides.

“That’s it” she sighs, while you move in and out, starting a slow and steady ryhtm. You lift her legs and put them over your shoulders, going deeper and hitting that perfect spot that makes her see stars.

“Harder, I want you to fuck me so hard”

“How hard, huh?” your hand goes to her neck and you squeeze. Wanda moans your name, enjoying the pressure. “Want me to come inside you?”

“Yes, please fill me up”

“So pretty when you beg” you mutter, pounding harder and letting the hand that was chocking her travel to her nipples. You pinch one and then the other, enjoying Wanda’s sensitivity.

As you change your angle, Wanda’s legs squeeze you, pulling you closer. You thrust harder, erratically, knowing you’re close and so is she.

“Wanna get you nice and full”

“Fuck, yes” Wanda cries out, biting the spot between your shoulder and neck. “I’m gonna…”

As soon as she says those words, your hand travels between your bodies, squeezing the strap on so it can shoot the load inside of her.

Wanda lets out a loud moan at the feeling, pulling you until you can’t hold yourself up, collapsing on top of her.

For a few minutes, all that can be heard is your heavy breathing. Once you come to your senses, you move to the side. While Wanda is still trying to recover, you look down, clenching at the mess between your bodies.

“Give me a second and we can…” Wanda says, coming back to her senses. You smile, kissing her softly.

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere”

Once her breathing evens out, she scoots closer, hiding in your arms.

“Was it good? We appreciate honest feedback here”

Wanda laughs, kissing your neck.

“It was so good I think I might be pregnant”

“Well” you say, rolling so Wanda’s on top now. “That will be one beautiful baby”

—

This has been the best night of your life. You’re usually quiet when having sex, because you never have the house to yourselves. After that, you cuddle and call it a night.

Not this night, though. You had been at it for a couple of hours when you got hungry, so now you’re having a midnight snack, Wanda wearing your shirt and you in the usual tank top.

“Food’s almost ready” Wanda says.

"While we wait, let's..." you trail off, playing some music.

I used to love like a lovesick puppy Loving on anyone who'd throw me a bone I didn't care if they weren't good for me 'Cause it was better than being alone

“What are you doing?” Wanda asks with a smile when you reach out for her hand.

“Can I have this dance?”

“I’m a terrible dancer” she warns you, but you shrug your shoulders.

“You’re not wearing heels right now, so we’re safe. Come on, I’ll lead”

Without waiting for her reply, your hands go around her waist. Wanda puts her arms over your shoulders, letting you sway her to the music.

Now I've grown up to be a pretty cool person Loving myself and I know my worth I think I'm ready to find my person 'Cause I won't accept less than I deserve

“I’m not looking for a girlfriend, I’m looking for a wife” you sing, making Wanda laugh.

“Is this you proposing?”

“What? Nu-uh. When I do it, it’s gonna be awesome. And unexpected. But mostly awesome”

“When you propose? You thought about it”

“I’m here for the long run, baby”

Wanda smiles, leaning against your chest, while you keep rocking gently to the music.

“I love you”

“Love you too, Wanda”

Ooweeoowee My emergency contact Want a love like that No sweat 'cause I know you've got my back Ooweeoowee My emergency contact Want a love like that, want a love like that

A/N: Song is Emergency Contact by Corook. Please listen to all her music.

Last year I told you all to listen to Chappell Roan and none of you did and LOOK WHERE WE ARE NOW

[yandere-daydreams]

Screening: Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978).

Pairing: Yandere!Carlisle Cullen x Reader (Twilight).

Word Count: 2.1k.

TW: Wildly Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Medical Malpractice, Blood, Controlling Behavior, Deliberate Social Isolation, Misuse of Prescription Drugs, and Generalized Twilight. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

It might’ve just been the isolation getting to you, but you were starting to think that your doctor wasn’t completely human.

Not that you’d ever say so out loud. At best, it was awful thing to think about a man who’d only ever been kind to you and, at worst, it proved yet another symptom to your ever-developing, ever-worsening illness had cropped up and would need further treatment to correct. You knew better than to say things that would make you seem more sick than you already were, but it was hard to stop yourself from lingering on the idea – especially considering you only had books, sleep, and his company to pass the endless time. Admittedly, it’d been a while since you’d seen another person, but you could’ve sworn he was paler than he should’ve been, to the point of bloodlessness. He never ate or drank around you, but sometimes when he spoke, the light would catch on his teeth in a way that made them look too sharp, too prominent. You might’ve been dreaming, but once, after you took your medicine but just before you fell asleep, you swore you saw him taking the cap off of the blood sample he’d taken a few minutes prior, like he planned to do something aside from—

You heard a door open and instantly, your paranoia was dismissed in favor of more interesting stimuli. In this case, that came in the form of your doctor, Carlisle Cullen, stepping into your bedroom, an inhumanly perfect smile already painted across his inhumanly perfect lips.

…maybe you should tell somebody about your little conspiracy. If only to be absolutely sure that you were really losing your mind.

“Good morning,” he said, and it occurred to you that you hadn’t thought to check the time, yet. Your life existed in three states: alone, asleep, and with Carlisle. Only that last one really mattered – the other two could easily be lumped into the same category helpfully labeled ‘waiting for Carlisle’s next visit’. “Have you been keeping yourself busy?”

“I’ve only been awake for a couple hours,” you explained, shrugging as he took his usual seat in the chair left next to your bed. He was always polite enough to ask about the boring details of your day, and you were always embarrassed enough to skirt around just how little you had the energy for. Most of the time, it was all you could do to pull yourself out of bed and yourself to eat before retreating back into your little safe haven. On a good day, you’d be able to go for a walk, maybe respond to a few of the calls you were constantly missing, but most days weren’t very good. “Reading, mostly. Thanks again for the recommendation.”

The book he’d lent you – a dry historical drama with characters as bland as water and a plot as boring as sin – sat open on your lap, but you’d only gotten through half a chapter before giving up. It was hard to believe Carlisle was only a few years older than you, sometimes. You couldn’t imagine how someone who seemed so young could have such awful taste.

Still, he looked pleased, his pleasantly aloof expression taking on a defined note of satisfaction. “It’s important to keep your mind occupied while your body’s recovering. You wouldn’t want to waste all of my hard work by letting yourself die of boredom, now, would you?”

“No, doctor.” It was stupid to try, but he’d set himself up for it. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself, your heart beating just a little faster as you grasped blindly for the impossible. “You know, there’s this friend of mine who keeps asking when she’ll be able to visit, and I thought it might help pass the time if—”  

“You’ll have to find a way to let her down.” Carlisle’s voice was smooth, calm. You did your best not to sulk, but still, he let out a labored sigh, only a touch too professional to roll his eyes. “It’s for the best. It’s good that you stay active, but you know what’ll happen if you overexert yourself, don’t you?”

Vaguely. It was hard to remember the details of your condition, and you weren’t in the mood for another lecture. “I do, doctor.”

“And you’re going to behave your check-up, aren’t you?”

“I am, doctor.”

“And that’s why you’re my favorite patient.” Your compliance was rewarded with a beaming smile, an appeased nod as he pulled his old-fashioned leather doctor’s bag into his lap. “We better make good on that promise before you change your mind, then.”

You didn’t protest. Honestly, you didn’t say much of anything. You never talked during your exam, preferring to let Carlisle go through the necessary motions with as little interference as possible. Instead, he filled the silence with mindless chatter about his children and how they were doing at the local public school, the hospital’s ongoings since you were unofficially discharged, and your favorite – Forks’ particularly colorful smalltown gossip, from the sheriff’s wayward daughter moving back into town to the spike in bear sightings on the local hiking paths. “It’ll be a busy week,” he mentioned, as he finished taking your blood pressure. “You might have some unexpected company, after all.”

At that, you perked up. You met nearly all of Carlisle’s assistants (medical students, you guessed, judging by their ages) by now, and even if you didn’t care for all of them, it was still nice to see someone other than him. Your least favorites were the dark haired twins – the wiry boy who always seemed to be biting back a smirk and the pixie-like girl who always acted like she knew something you didn’t – and you were particularly fond of the blonde girl… Rosemary, or maybe Rosaline. She was nice, compassionate, kind enough to keep you company even when Carlisle wasn’t in the room. More importantly, she brought interesting books – romance and horror, novels like Dracula and Carmilla and Interview with a Vampire, always handing over with a sweet smile and a hushed reminder not to let Carlisle know she was breaking his rules. Looking back on it, you probably shouldn’t have accepted anything she tried to give you. You would’ve hated for her to get in trouble just because she was trying to be nice.

Rather than voicing your overwhelming bias, you watched intently as he slipped the loose cuff off of your arm, tucking it back into his bag and removing something else, something long and silver and sharp. Immediately, your gaze shot back to your lap, your throat going dry in an instant. The next time you managed to spit something out, it was nearly too quiet to be audible. “…is there any chance we could, uh, I don’t know,” You paused, shrunk into yourself. “…skip the phlebotomy, this time?”

Carlisle’s answer was as swift as it was ruthless. An airy laugh, a jagged twist to this smile as he took up the needle properly and turned it over in his hand, looking for defects. It was already attached the glass syringe and, even worse, an empty vial; just a touch bigger than you remembered it being, the day before. “And take that kind of risk? How little do you think of me, (Y/n)?”

“It’s not you, it’s just—I already feel a little faint, and you take one every day, and—” You cut yourself off, inhaling sharply. “I just don’t know if it’s really necessary. Considering how careful you are and everything.”

“You’re right, I am careful. Which is exactly why I have to do this each and every time I come to see you.” He sighed, shook his head – suddenly more of a patronizing, paternal figure than any kind of medical professional, let alone peer. “You understand, don’t you? Without regular testing, your condition may worsen, and if you get any sicker than you are now…” You stiffened as he trailed off, bracing yourself. You knew what came next, what always came next.

“You’ll have to go back to the hospital, angel.”

It was strange, how a voice as smooth and as beautiful as his could be so difficult to listen to.

You didn’t like Carlisle. You hated his condescending smile, his repetitive rambling, his terrible taste in books and his creepy little students. You hated how little he let you do, how he talked about your illness – always skirting around the details, never giving you enough information to know whether you were on the verge of dying or a few days away from making a full recovery. No, when you were honest with yourself, you didn’t like him. Hated him, even.

But you couldn’t go back to the hospital, with its blank white walls and sobbing patients and strange, mind-altering drugs that put your sleep and made you feel like someone was biting into your throat. It’d been a miracle when Carlisle first told you about his domestic services, when he offered to have you discharged in exchange for only the promise that you wouldn’t seek care that didn’t come from him. Arrangements were made, your rent and bills taken over by some nameless, faceless local charity, and for the first time in months, you got to go home. You could live with Carlisle and his once weekly, now daily check-ups. You could live with the fact that you didn’t remember the last time you’d gotten to make a decision for yourself.

And, if you had to, you could live with paying for your freedom in blood, too. As long as it meant you didn’t have to go back to that terrible place.

Once again, you didn’t say anything, but you didn’t resist as he sighed and ran a sterilizing pad over your forearm, the antibiotic strong enough to burn. You clenched your eyes shut, but that did nothing to block out the feeling of a thin elastic band being wrapped around the crook of your elbow, of his needle pushing through your skin and burrowing into the vein underneath it. There was a second of pressure, of knotted soreness, and then, the syringe was gone and you were left feeling just a little colder, just a little more empty than you had before.

Even after opening your eyes, you kept them trained on your lap. You easily could’ve spent the rest of his visit in silence, but metal clinked against glass as he rushed to cap his vial and suddenly, you needed to hear the sound of your own voice. “I think I might be getting paranoid,” you managed, with a breath of a laugh. “For a few minutes this morning, I was able to convince myself that you were… I don’t know, an alien studying humanity, or something.”

“If I was, I’m sure that I would still pick you as the best possible specimen for my examination.” It was hollow comfort, but you smiled anyway, nodding along. Your medication came next, in the form of a small, chalky white pill that you still struggled to swallow under Carlisle’s vigilant gaze. You managed to choke it down, though, and as always, the effects were instant; a sudden clearness, blankness, followed shortly by an exhaustion so thick and so heavy, you couldn’t remember what it’d ever felt like not to be tired. You tried to hold yourself up, but faltered – buckling under your own weight. Carlisle chuckled as he caught you, helping you lay down with a soft squeeze to your shoulder, a feather-light kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep, angel. It’s good for you.” And then, his grin still pressing into your scalp. “And try not to dream about vampires, this time.”

So he did know about Rosalie’s books. Pouting, you shrunk into yourself, letting him drag the comforter over your abruptly immobile body as your eyes eased shut, as he pulled away – a vial of your blood still warm in his hand. It would’ve been impossible to stop yourself from falling asleep, but you managed to stave off unconscious long enough to watch him remove the vial’s carefully applied seal, to unscrew the air-tight cap with the kind of tenderness you’d only seen him use while taking your temperature or petting his fingers through your hair after he thought you were already too far gone to remember. He did a lot of things when he thought you weren’t looking, didn’t he? You’d never really noticed that, before.

Through your eyelashes, you watched him bring the vial to his lips before everything went dark.

[justawritterwithideas]

law in pink | s.r

♡ first part | next part ♡

summary: after confronting an unsub, it leaves you with a ugly mark and Spencer decides to give you a gift to cheer you up.

warnings: mentions of physical violence, beyond that a bit of girl power from reader and a sweet spencer worried about you.

this story is spencer reid (season 7) x ssa elle woods!reader

words: 1,567 words.

a/n: by popular demand, here is part two of law in pink, and yes, I will be returning to this story in a short series with chapters from ssa woods!reader x spencer. thank you very much again and I hope you like it.

The first rule everyone should know about you is that they must never mess with your face.

Never.

Because they don't know what a process it is to get it well cared for, hydrated and with that natural glow. They also don't know how expensive your skincare products are (always the best of the best) and your sessions with your dermatologist.

So they should never, but never, mess with your face.

But clearly an unsub wasn't going to know that, a criminal accused of killing 4 women with a twisted mind was never going to think that.

Least of all when his hand punched you straight in the face, splitting your lip and leaving a mark on your cheekbone, causing the taste of iron to be savored in your mouth.

"What, is Barbie going to cry about her face? I don't understand why they sent the weakest one."

You turned to look at him as you heard his sarcastic laugh, which didn't last long as the Gucci logo on your heel was branded on his cheek and he was falling dazed after hitting a box in the process.

"Weak? Please, you messed with the wrong Barbie." You smiled proudly at the sight of him on the floor, pawing at your face and letting out a groan at the sensation of pain. "Now I'll have to make an appointment with my dermatologist and a traumatologist because of you." You sighed pulling the gun away from his body and proceeded to take his hands to cuff them.

Within minutes, you heard some voices calling out to you, so you began to signal where you were. Within seconds, you saw a concerned J.J. and Emily come down to where you were standing, pointing their guns at you.

The scene was amusing and amazing to watch, you on top of a man who was twice your size as well as weight, lying on the ground while his hands were cuffed.

"Malibu Barbie just captured the undercover toy." You motioned for the cops to take him away, noticing how Emily got a close look at your lip.

"That must hurt."

"It'll hurt more for him, these babies are from last season and has a good sole. Fresh from the mail and ready to make a mark." You commented showing your heels to your companions, hearing their laughter at your joke.

The three of you walked out behind the hoard of people, noticing Spencer and Derek getting out of the newly arrived SUV. As soon as Spencer's gaze captured your face in his field of vision, you could feel him notice right away how your wounded face was the focus of the stares.

"What happened?" Derek looked in everyone's direction, stopping your gaze on you and the clear change in your usual 'perfect' face. "Oh no, Barbie..."

"Don't even look at me, better look at him." You pointed your chin in the direction of the patrol car, where your shoe logo was visible on the criminal's ruddy cheek. "My pilates classes taught him a good lesson." You commented smiling, but immediately let out a groan from the pain it was to move the muscles in your face. "But I think it will leave me achy for a few days."

In between conversations, the others convinced you to go get attended to, so you heeded and walked away from them in the direction of the ambulance, so they could give your cheekbone and lip attention.

"Are you okay, Y/N?"

Spencer's soft voice made you forget the pain for a few seconds, turning to see his face and giving him a smile where your white teeth took center stage.

"I'm fine, it was just a tap." The paramedic walked away to leave the two of you alone. You knew it wasn't an answer that would leave Spencer satisfied about your condition, in fact, his intense stare at you was more than enough to make that clear. You let out a sigh, turning to look at the brunette. "Well, I don't think it's just a 'tap out'. I'll have to ask for a couple of days until I show up at the office decently, not with this horrible face."

One of your biggest problems was your appearance, as many may note, because, if you weren't perfect, you couldn't leave your house.

It had to be everything, head to toe, just the way you have it in your head, if not, sorry, but they'll have to wait for you.

"It's not horrible, you still look just as beautiful." Spencer's words seemed impulsive, but they made your cheeks turn pink, even though I wasn't the only one blushing at that moment, Spencer's were just the same.

"You think so?" your eyelashes fluttered softly, watching the boy.

"Y-yes, y-you always look cute, Y/N."

A kiss on his cheek was the positive response you left for Spence to understand that his words were the best choice, and helped push away those thoughts about how bad you looked with a swollen lip and bruises on your cheek.

"Thank you Spencie, your words are always the right ones. Like a good Chai Latte on a cold day." You smiled getting up from where you were, indicating to him that you would go to the SUV.

For the first time in his life, Spencer appreciated his impulsiveness.

About a week later, you reappeared at the office for a full day's work.

Your body was covered by a pink skirt and jacket ensemble, something that was no longer a problem for anyone after weeks of seeing you arrive like this.

The only thing that wasn't pink at all was your black purse, a beautiful Alexandra. K. Joy and of course, the tray full of coffees you were carrying in your hands.

"Miss Universe, you're back." Derek smiled, causing you to walk up to him and leave a short hug.

"Good things always come back, now be a cutie and help me with this, D." You passed him the tray with coffees, walking beside him as you shared a couple of words.

There was a variety of coffees for everyone according to their tastes, you had taken the time to memorize each order so that it was to their liking.

And as soon as you appeared, you heard Penelope's voice call out to you. Your hand rose to greet her, approaching her with a smile.

"My pretty Y/N." The blonde immediately caught you in a hug, causing you to do the same.

"Penny!" you said cheerfully as you passed her a butterscotch frappe with plant-based milk. "I picked out something I thought you'd like."

"Thanks, cutie. How's your lip?"

"Sore, a little damaged, but better than I thought. My dermatologist recommended a magic cream that Lindsay Lohan used, she said it worked miracles and in two weeks it would be just the way it was."

A smile tugged at your lips, starting to pass out the coffees you had bought until you reached the last one: the one for Dr. Reid.

"Spencie." Your voice snapped him out of his head, turning to see you with a smile.

"Y/N, hey. How are you doing?"

"Much, much better, look... My lip looks almost like it did before! I'll get back to my pretty face." You placed the coffee in front of his eyes, giving him another smile. "A coffee loaded with vegetable milk, I heard around that you're lactose intolerant so I took the liberty of choosing for you."

A blush of embarrassment at that secret settled on his cheeks, causing him to lower his head.

"Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate the coffee." He lifted the cup, taking a sip from it and simply gave you a look, causing you to smile and go to your table.

But it was surprise that settled on your face as you saw a box full of skincare products. Your hands went to grab the products, noticing that it was every single one you occupied and ever mentioned.

"What? Guys... Wow." You held up the little serum box, but the confusion on Emily's face turned your excitement to confusion. "It wasn't you guys?"

"I don't even remember what I did yesterday and I'm going to remember your products, cutie. You take a lot of them." Emily laughed softly, but made you look again in search of the person responsible.

"There's only one person who can remember details like that." Derek's words drew your gaze from your desk to that of a certain doctor, who was shifting his gaze back to his paperwork. "And he hides behind his work."

A soft blush settled on your cheeks, causing you to bring the little box to your chest and press it to your heart, marveling at the detail.

Your feet soon made their way to the desk of the person in charge, and catching him off guard, you left a kiss on his cheek where your pink lipstick was stamped on his skin.

"Thank you, Spencie. I'll take good care of it."

Spencer's heart stopped for a couple of seconds, you could read it.

And as soon as you left, just like a tomato the young doctor's face colored. As a plus, the comments from Morgan didn't take long to come.

"Wow pretty boy, you just won the lottery."

Spencer knew it and that caused him to smile, because boy did he win it.

♡ first part ♡

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

[daydreamgoddess14]

Sweat

Declan O'Hara x f!reader

(little mention of Tag x Rupert)

~1k words, no real warnings - the 'c' word is used once.

While I wait for my man Jack Lowden to return from war (filming season 6 of Slow Horses), I thought I'd dip my little toe into a very short Declan O'Hara one-shot 😬

If you're reading The Escape Artist, fear not, the final TWO chapters are coming this week! Yes, of course I do have other prompts to get on with, but I was in spin class last night, and every time my instructor shouted, "Ride, ride, ride" all I saw was Declan 😅 The moustache would make a wonderful handle as well 🤭

Another bead of sweat drips from your forehead onto the towel.

“Ride, ride, ride, ride, don't stop ladies,” the instructor, an Adonis of a man, coaches you through the pumping music. Next to you, Taggie blows a stray curl out of her face.

“This is torture,” she hisses through gritted teeth.

She isn't wrong.

The newly installed ‘Bicycle Hub’ has raised eyebrows at the local leisure centre, with few expected to actually attend.

The Hub overlooks the squash courts, not that you'd know.

They were so filled with cigarette smoke you could hardly see a thing at all.

From the front row of bikes, you had a prime view looking down.

Usually older gentlemen with portly stomachs and red wine noses who were one play away from a heart attack.

“Oh look, it's daddy.” Taggie peers down. “And Rupert.”

Even through the glowing pink caused by the exercise class you can see her blush.

The two men look up and catch you watching them.

A real shame you couldn't lip read.

Not that they'd be saying anything about Tag, Rupert wouldn't dare in front of Declan.

You were fair game though.

Taggie waves but you don't dare break your rhythm on the bike for fear you'd fall right off.

“Concentrate, ladies,” Adonis warns. “Left, right, left, left, right, right. Stay with the beat, ride, ride, ride.”

You tear your eyes away from the squash court and look back at your bike, regretting it instantly.

“My legs are killing me,” you mutter, feeling your thighs burn.

You go back to looking at the squash game Declan and Rupert are playing, it looks more like they're trying to hit each other with the ball rather than play to the rules.

Each of them roaring with laughter whenever they make contact.

“I'm sure that's not how you're supposed to play,” Taggie grumbles.

“Could be worse, they could be just hitting each other with the racket,” you suggest.

Your breath comes in short gasps now, your stamina rapidly declining.

The rhythmic sounds of the squash ball combine with the squeak of running shoes, the beat of the music, and the hum of the fixed wheels of the bike.

A cacophony of sounds.

You find yourself watching their game more intently, it powers you through the changes in resistance on the bike.

You tilt your head to brush your earlobe against your shoulder and catch another drip of sweat.

As you do so, another works its way down the side of your neck and down into your cleavage.

“And down, catch your breath. Next, we're going to run,” Adonis tells the class.

You let your legs slow down a little and take the opportunity to run the towel over your face and take a long drink of water.

Your chest heaves.

As you put your water bottle back on the machine, you automatically look again at the squash court, this time catching Declan watching you.

You notice the quick lift of his eyebrow as he stares.

He licks his lips slowly, deliberately, and then smiles.

“OK ladies, stand up -”

“On the bike?”

“Yes, madame, it's time to run.”

“I don't understand, I'll fall off!” You think it's Valerie Jones who's protesting, but you've yet to look away from Declan.

Holding his gaze, you do as Adonis asks and you stand up, straightening your legs on the pedals.

Even from this distance you can tell where he's looking.

Your tight lycra crop top pulls your breasts together and his eyes are drawn like a magnet.

When you lean forward on the bike, he wipes his hand over his mouth.

The next track starts building in momentum and so do you, each rotation of the wheels making you bounce a little more vigorously.

Neither of you has looked away yet, goodness knows where Rupert has gone.

Taggie is mercifully distracted, a tight frown of concentration on her face.

There's a wicked glint in Declan's eye and you tilt your head to the side, a silent question.

Whatever he's about to do in response, he doesn't.

Rupert is back, distracting him, talking to him.

He looks away at last, but you can tell it's under duress.

“Thank you ladies, great class for today!” Adonis is off the bike and leading his own round of applause.

You roll your eyes at Taggie and grimace.

“He's single! So I've heard,” she tells you with a giggle.

“No thanks, his biceps are huge! He'd suffocate me!”

You leave the class very much in need of a shower and as you make your way down to the changing rooms, you pass the squash courts.

Taggie's looking out for Rupert, you can tell.

Desperate for a moment alone with him.

You spot him first, by the water fountain, and nudge her in his direction.

His face lights up at the sight of her.

"Looks like you ladies have been getting all hot and sweaty,” he grins slyly.

You leave them to talk, and open the glass door to the court.

Taggie and Rupert are in full view of most of the leisure centre so he only has his words to charm with.

Inside the court, Declan has been watching you through the glass.

“Water?” You offer, holding out your bottle.

“Prefer whiskey,” he grins.

“So do I.”

“I'd also prefer an exercise that'll leave us both breathless," he says quietly.

There's a line you're about to cross but neither of you seems to care.

“So do I.” You repeat equally quietly.

“Sure I can find a much more comfortable seat for you as well.”

The lilt of his accent runs over your body.

He looks through the door but Taggie and Rupert are out of sight, for once, he doesn't seem to care.

He takes a step towards you, as if he's about to whisper in your ear.

Instead, he drags his tongue from your throat to your earlobe.

“You taste delicious.”

Your power of speech is non-existent.

Your hands shake as the adrenaline from the class and from his proximity mingle together.

He kisses your temple, your hairline damp with sweat.

“I think it's time to put a stop to this little game, don't you?” he murmurs.

You can only nod as your body trembles and your cunt clenches.

And then you hear Rupert in the atrium outside.

Declan takes a measured step away from you as Taggie arrives, though neither of you can stop staring.

“Ugh, let's go, I feel disgusting,” she pulls a face. Rupert clearly thinks quite the opposite.

“Yes, let's. Enjoy your game, gentlemen.” You smile brightly.

“I certainly am,” Declan responds, the low rumble of his laughter following you from the court.

You can still feel the heat of his stare as you pile into the car to leave.

You can still feel the weight of his body on yours as you climb into bed that night.

[kkami-writes]

waiting for us — chapter sixty. lost wc. 1.3k CW! very intense chapter. violent acts, domestic abuse, mentions of blood a/n: sorry pt 2 please don't kill me. as always, tl;dr at the end.

It’s hard to tell how long it’s been since he threw the first punch. It could have been mere minutes or a whole hour. You have no idea. All you know is that everything hurts.

He’s been spewing hateful words ever since he barged into the apartment but at this point you can’t even hear him anymore, too focused on the searing pain that’s spreading all over your body. You can taste the familiar and you’re pretty sure your leg is broken from the way it’s angled funny.

“Are you even listening to me you fucking whore?” His hands are suddenly around your throat, cutting off your air supply. Your weak hands to grasp at his own to pull them away but it’s a useless attempt. Your energy is rapidly fading and your vision swims in and out of focus.

You try to hold on but you’re losing consciousness fast and a single tear runs down your good eye. You can’t help but think that this is it, you were probably about to die. Yet the only thing on your mind is your boys. Instead of your own shitty life flashing by, it’s all your favorite memories you have with them in the short amount of time you’ve gotten to have them. It’s a rather nice way to go you suppose, being reminded of their love. After all, it’s probably the last time you’ll get to see them, even if it’s like this.

Hyunjin and Minho bicker while the climb up the stairs to the apartment, the older exasperated at the fact that Hyunjin did in fact misplace his keys once again. First they were late because he insisted he only needed one thing from the art store now to only find he really did not have his keys with him. Once they reach the apartment however, the door is already open and slightly ajar. The two exchange quick glances before barging in.

They can hear loud yelling and peaking from just behind the couch are your feet. Quickly, they run further into the apartment only to find you, bruised and bleeding with a male on top of you.

Hyunjin screams and Minho sees red.

The elder of the two if quicker as he jumps in to pull the male off of you. There’s not a single scratch on the strange man and it only fuels his anger. You couldn’t even fight back.

“Who the fuck are you?” Minho spits at the man, his fingers digging into the collar of his shirt. The male towers over him by a good few inches but Minho could care less.

“Ha! Let me guess? One of her soulmates?” He says the word in a condescending manner, an ugly sneer on his face. “Sorry. I was just teaching her a much needed lesson,” The man grins and his teeth are yellow, alcohol lingering in his breath and it makes Minho cringe back.

Minho doesn’t need to hear anything else as he pulls his fist back and smashes it into the mans face. He watches with a satisfying smirk as the other falls to the ground, clutching his now bleeding nose. Minho doesn’t give him another chance to get back up, kicking him in the gut so he stays on the ground.

Minho hovers over the male with a scowl curling at his lips before spitting in the others face. He brings his foot up, aiming directly for his face. “Fuck. You. This is for my soulmate,” and then he brings his heel down. A sickening crunch is heard and Minho knows that he has successfully broken the others nose. The man is unconscious now, blood dripping from his nose but it’s the least of Minho’s worries. He glances over to you, seeing that Hyunjin is currently taking care of you so he slips his phone out to call the police.

Hyunjin is hovering over you, delicately cupping your face in his shaky hands. One of your eyes is completely swollen, turning a nasty shade of purple and there is a similar bruise starting to develop around your neck. You’re completely out of it, your breathing shallow and Hyunjin doesn’t even think you notice that he’s here with you as he tries to get you to focus on him.

“Baby. Baby, shhh. You’re ok now. Help is on the way, yeah?” You don’t respond or even look at him and it only makes him cry even harder. Fat tears run down his cheeks at how broken you look in his arms. How could anyone do this to someone else? Let alone to you. “Please…Please baby, look at me…” He all but begs, patting your cheeks lightly. Anything for you to focus on him.

“J-Jinnie?” Your voice is hoarse and raw but it has Hyunjin breathing out a sigh of relief. You look up at him slowly, eyes blinking drowsily.

“There you are. Hello my muse,” He tries to smile through his tears. “Keep those pretty eyes open for me ok? Help is on the way,” Hyunjin says in a gentle voice, stroking your cheek. You’re still very much out of it, unable to focus completely on him and it makes him frown. You mumble something as your eyes start to droop once more, causing the poor boy to start panicking.

“Hyun….” You try to call out to him but he just shushes you, squeezing your hands.

“Shh, it’s ok princess. You don’t need to say anything,” But you shake your head, grimacing as a wave of pain filters through your body. You need to say this. Even if it’s the last thing you do.

“Mm- Tell…Tell the boys that…I love them,” You manage to say and Hyunjin feels like his heart is breaking.

“Tell them yourself,” He says, begging for you to stay with him. You just smile softly, barely holding on with your lids feeling heavy. “No no no no. Baby, you can’t close your eyes,” He says, gently shaking you in an attempt to keep you awake but it’s all futile as your eyes roll to the back of your head and you fall unconscious.

“Baby! Baby no! Hyung!! HYUNG! She’s unconscious!” Hyunjin screams, now full on crying as he clutches your body to his.

Minho’s grip on his phone is so tight he’s almost worried it’ll shatter as he quickly calls Chan.

“Hello? What’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be driving yn to work?” Chan answers on the first ring, always reliable. Minho has to take a deep breath to calm himself.

“…Hyung,” His own voice cracks, lower lip wobbling. “Come home. Now.”

“What? What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Theres….been an incident. I need you to come home. NOW.” Minho is demanding, making sure Chan understands that he isn’t asking.

“Ok, ok. I’ll come home right now,”

“Send the others to the hospital. I’ll have Hyunjin call them,”

“The hospital? What? Minho what is going on? Shouldn’t I meet you at the hospital then? Is yn okay??” Chan goes into his ‘leader’ mode, asking way too many questions that Minho isn’t willing to answer right now.

“No. I need you home because I can’t guarantee that I will wait for the police to arrive. I will fucking kill him,” Minho’s tone is deadly as he sneers towards the still unconscious male. Chan on the other line is concerned and confused. He can vaguely hear Hyunjin’s sobs in the background and with the way Minho’s talking he knows he’s not about to get any answers right now.

“Ok Min. I’m on my way home. Just…wait for me, ok?”

He takes another deep breath. “Ok hyung…please hurry,” His voice cracks again before he hangs up, unable to be away from you any longer.

Hyunjin’s still sobbing uncontrollably as Minho comes over and sits silently next to him. He reaches out to grasp at your hand, hating the way its limp against his own. Still, he clutches it like it’s his lifeline.

“…please be ok. You have to be ok,” Minho whispers a quick prayer, squeezing your hand.

TL;DR: yn's brother chokes her and she falls unconscious. hyunjin holds her as she tells him to tell the boys that she loves them. minho comes to curb stomp him and calls the police + chan to come home.

previous | masterlist | next

[lady-ashfade]

Blood And Pressure

Part three

Yandere!Pjo × Fem!Grisha!reader. (Platonic Yandere gods) (romantic!various characters)

-♡ Chapters: Previous // Next

-♡ characters: Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Clarisse La Rue, Annabeth Chase, Grover Underwood

-♡ this is a shadow & bone slight crossover. Reader is a heartrender and that's all really (maybe more in the future!)

-♡ Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of the book characters. So 17-19 characters for these, you can choose any of them really. Just that they are older teens. (Except for Clarisse and Luke at pjo show actors)

-♡ warnings: short, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting, platonic yandere too, blood powers, powerful powers but not godly, and future warnings when more chapters come out. (Luke will be back don’t worry)

“Well,” you sigh and look at Percy with sadness but tried to not show it. In this short time you had someone who dispute just meeting you, gave you something you wanted for as long as you have been here. A friend.

“You’ll be great here. Luke will take care of you.” Percy gripped the straps of his backpack at his name on your lips.

“Yeah, he seems nice..” he looked past your shoulder at the boy that must have been a year older then him. But he was much larger then he was..more muscular and a few inches taller.

“It’s hard to be in a new place, trust me I know that.” You paused for a second and he could see you running over your thoughts. Before he could piece together anything you wrapped your arms around him and embraced him.

He was stunned in place as his chest become breathless at being close to you. This was his chance, so he wrapped his arms around you and smiled at how your hair smelled sweet.

“Thank you Percy,” you whispered while still holding so tightly onto him. You cared little about anything else.

“For what?”

“Giving me a friend for as long as I can.” You pulled back from him and stepped away with a embarrassed expression. Before percy could reply, Chiron called your name and you gave him one last look and walked away.

You walked out the cabin beside the centaur with your legs practically dragging.

You felt sick to your stomach while thinking of being back in the house and being stuck there again with no one your age to hang out with. You stared at the ground while waking and you could feel Chirons gaze on you but you didn’t bother looking up.

Deep down you knew you weren’t supposed to be here. It didn’t make sense to you but you blacked out everything before this “camp” and only pieces came back to you. You remember someone training you…you remembered your powers and how to use them. And, you remember the book you had- the only thing of your old life. But not what you are.

“It’s just a silly little story,” you overheard the first night in the big house. “Just let her keep it.” Chiron convinced the god.

Now you got a taste of freedom you didn’t want to go back. You wanted to be with people your own age, you wanted friends. You think i’d go insane to spend another week trapped in that place.

“So,” a new voice creeped up in your ears. You both come to a stop and you find yourself looking up. A new girl. She was beautiful but her harsh glare and muscles set a shiver down your spine. Her eyes looked you up and down causing you to shift uncomfortably.

“She’s finally out of her cage.” Her teeth poked out from her smile and for some reason it reminded you of a shark or a lion…like she hunted pray for fun, and you were her next kill.

“Clarisse, lovely to see you.” The man smiled softly but his voice sounded different like a warning of some sort. “We are just going back, is there anything you need?” You throat goes dry when she starts to step closer to you.

“What is she? No one at camp knows but you guys seem to,” you play with your fingers under her almost threatening gaze. You remember one glare like that…Ares had one.

Not that you ever met him really but there was a dream. You were in a place with thrones around you and people sat amongst them and screamed at each other. Not much did you catch or remember of what was said, almost like you were meant to. But the subject did revolve around you.

“Tell me, what are you?” That’s when things clicked in your mind. Someone had asked that before.

“That’s enough. Go back to your cabin—”

“I’m a heartrender.”

The pair stare at you before moving their wide eyes up. You feel your blood pump faster and a growing confidence and remember who you were. Slowly coming down from high you felt, you notice their gaze wasn’t on you anymore but just above you.

“What?” You asked before taking a glance above you and see something shining bright above you. Stepping back you found yourself confused…no god was your parent, you weren’t a half blood. So why was one claiming you…

Thunder could be heard and rumbled underneath your feet. This couldn’t be right.

“That’s impossible..”

A peacock feather hung above your head in all its glory.

Taglist @maria699669 @gorgeourrific-nerd @alliriseabove @targaryenluvs @theaaeht @dabalyuteeeftia @weepingwitchofthewest @iris1587 @tulipmagnoliaisme @ameliashideout @purplerose291 @poppyflower-22 @riaaavm

[waughymommy]

MOMMY KNOWS BEST

CHAPTER 2

Sunlight splashed into the bedroom and Rebecca started to stir awake. As she opened her eyes, she realized that Brian was still in the same position he was in when they fell asleep. He was still asleep and to her delight he was still suckling on his pacifier. She managed to wriggle herself free and made for the kitchen to make her coffee. The previous evening was coming into focus and she realized that she had a lot of work to do. Her home wasn’t equipped for a baby yet. She had much to prepare, so many things to get. First thing first was to make plans for a nursery. She started to daydream about all of her plans when footsteps crept up behind her. “Good morning Rebecca,” Brian said sheepishly. She whipped around, “Rebecca? Have you have forgotten last night already?” Her voice was steady and firm, but also lovingly maternal, “Can you tell me what you are wearing?” Brian turned his eyes to floor and fidgeted. So embarrassed, he could barely find his voice. “Brian, I asked you a question. What are you wearing sweetheart?” This time he managed to allow words to escape, “Im, Im wearing a……diaper.” The last word exited as a faint whisper. “What was that? I couldn’t hear that last word.” He nervously glanced up to see her face, but he couldn’t find the strength to look her in the eyes and once again focused on the floor. “I said a diaper.” “That’s so good sweetheart. I’m so proud of my baby. Now tell me whose diaper is it.” He closed his eyes, wishing he could be anywhere but here. “It’s my…my diaper.” “You are doing so great sweetie. Now can you tell me what you were suckling on when you woke up?”

 Why won’t she just let me go. Overcome with his embarrassment, he snapped. “Forget this whole thing, Rebecca. Can we just pretend like last night happened? I shouldn’t be doing this. I just need to grow up and forget this stupid fantasy.” He stormed back into the bedroom. Rebecca took it all in stride. She knew her husband too well. She knew he would refuse to let go. He would fight it, even though he wanted this so badly. He was never going to give himself permission to just let go. It was going to be up to her to regress him. She entered the bedroom, just as Brian was about to un-tape his diaper. “Do not touch that diaper, young man!” “You can’t tell me what to do, Rebecca.” The look in her eyes made him realize his mistake. She marched over and pushed him down onto the bed. She smacked the back of his thigh as hard as he could. He let out a cry much to his surprise. “Get over my lap. And if you disobey me, you will absolutely regret it.” The sheepish feeling swept over him again and he complied. She pulled down his diaper. She laid smack after smack over his cheeks. At first he tried to grit his teeth through the pain, but after a few minutes tears streamed down his face. Tears turned to sobs as snot ran down his face. What a sight. Here was a grown man in a diaper over his wife’s knee getting a full spanking. Rebecca let up and with that same forceful maternal tone spoke up once again, “Let’s try again. Now what were you suckling on earlier?” Brian heaved his chest to catch his breath after the uncontrollable tears. “A pacifier.” “That’s right honey. So you have your diaper and your pacifier. Who uses those?” “Ba…babies.” “Great job. So if babies wear diapers and suck on pacifiers, what does that make you?” He tried to wipe the snot from his nose. There was no way to pretend that he didn’t look like a baby in this moment. “I’m a baby.” The sobs started up again, “I’m just a baby. I’m so sorry mommy.” Rebecca wrapped her arms around him and brought his face to her chest. “That’s right sweetheart. You are mommy’s baby. Mommy wants you to be her baby. I know you feel embarrassed Brian, but there is no reason to feel that way. I want this too. But you need to trust mommy and listen to me. Mommy knows best. Let me take control and I will make everything all better. Will you do that for me? He looked up and just nodded. She reached over to his bedside table and grabbed his pacifier. She gently placed it between his lips. “Once you have calmed down, I want to you to get dressed for me. Mommy has a lot of work to do. So today, you will get to be an adult. I want you to spend the day as a big boy. Go have some fun. But I want you back here this evening and we can discuss your return to babyhood.”

To be continued…

[crowsofdarkness]

Soldat: Chapter Seven

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Female Agent! Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: Agent Y/N has worked alongside Steve Rogers at SHIELD for some time all while keeping a dark secret from everyone. Until one day that darkness faces her head on and she's forced to make a choice. Continue fighting along side Captain America? Or find her home once again with Soldat?

Authors Note: This was originally published on my old blog as a trilogy so I will be in the slow process of adding it to this blog. This is the first of the trilogy and will take place during The Winter Soldier. If anyone is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Very slight implied smut in this chapter, very tame. Also, there are three chapters left! Once Soldat is complete, I will begin posting the next in the series.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl

Soldat Masterlist

Day One 

Eyes fluttered open softly, allowing the light to blind me for a few seconds as I stared up at the crackling ceiling. I followed the lines, hoping that it would lead me to an idea where I was but came up empty as I realized I was in a room with no windows, one door, and the lone cot I was currently laying on. My heart thumped in fear as I tried to remember how I ended up here. 

I was drinking in a bar in Siberia as I was going over my notes for the local terrorist group I was following. I was alone for most of the night until a strange man came up beside me, gun pressed to my side, muttering in my ear that I had to go with him or else.

The last thing I could remember was getting thrown into the back of a van and darkness. The watch on my wrist indicated that happened..

Sixteen hours ago?!

“What the fuck happened to me?” I groaned, clutching my forehead. 

The door clicked open, men dressed in European military uniforms catching my immediate attention. 

“Where am I?” I spoke in the native tongue. 

They ignored me, continuing on with their own conversation and paid no attention as they stood guard at the door, guns slightly drawn. 

Discreetly, I slid my hand down my calf trying to feel if the knife I stashed into my boot was still there. 

“You think we would leave you with a weapon?”

A small man entered the room now, glasses perched high on his nose. He gently removed his hat, handing it to one of the guards before sitting on a chair in front of my cot. 

“Who are you?” I questioned. 

He merely tsk’d before pulling a grey folder from his briefcase. “Y/N L/N. You’ve been an agent with the FBI for almost two years now and you’ve only been on one case. Why is that?” 

“Is that a file on me?” My eyes landed on the file.

“You were on New York SWAT for three years before this but had to leave for ‘different opinions’ pertaining to a rather personal case.” 

“That’s no one's business but my own,” I snapped. “You shouldn’t even have that information.” 

“I’m a very powerful man, Ms. L/N. I have many ways to get the information I want. Just like how you got info about me.” 

“Am I supposed to know who you are?” I squinted my eyes at him. 

“You’ve been looking for me for the last six months. I thought we could finally meet.” He gave me a small smile. 

“Wait,” my eyes widened. “You’re Dr. Zola? I thought you were dead. That’s why it’s been so hard to find you.” 

The older gentleman clicked his tongue against his teeth. “No, not Zola. But his apprentice. You can call me Dr. Berge” 

“Why did you kidnap me? To shut me up?” I crossed my arms over my chest, foot shaking with nerves. 

Dr. Berge handed one of the guards the folder before shaking his head. “Our last student didn’t make it. We needed someone new.” 

“Stu-student?” I stuttered. 

“Yes, for Soldat.” Bergenodded. 

“Soldat?” 

He answered my question with a wave; a new man entered the small room. My tired eyes raked in his appearance from head to toe. He was dressed in combat boots and black cargo pants. His broad chest was covered in a black vest, various pockets that held God only knew what, his long brown hair was falling into his eyes but did nothing to fix it. The only thing that held my gaze, however, was his left arm. It wasn’t like his right; this one was made entirely of metal. 

“Who’s this?” I questioned, voice shaking with fear. 

“Ah Soldat, meet your new student. Hopefully she’ll last longer than the last one.” Berge clapped his hands before leaving the room. 

Soldat remained in place, a few feet away from me, and he slowly nodded to the guards. 

“Leave us,” he demanded in Russian. 

Suddenly, it was just him and I, my fear being the only thing you could feel in the room by my heart beating faster and faster. 

“What am I your student for?” I mustered to ask. 

“To fight.”

Day 23 

“I need a minute,” I gasped for air as I tried to gain some space. 

“You don’t have a minute.” Soldat reminded me as he flipped me over his shoulder, my own falling hard to the mat below. 

It had been a hell of a couple of weeks. I had been captured by who I had come to find was the terrorist group I had been searching for; Hydra. 

Every morning and night, Soldat would come to my room and train me for hours, fighting non stop. I had yet to find out why I was being trained to fight. 

Soldat barely said a word to me during these training sessions. He was instructed to train me not to make small talk. I couldn’t get a read on him, what his story was or how he ended up here. 

“Mother fucker,” I cursed, clutching my shoulder. “I think it’s dislocated.” 

Soldat remained silent, roughly pulling me to my feet and snapped my arm back into place causing a scream to erupt from my throat. 

“That’s enough!” I screamed pushing my palms into his chest. “I’m done! No one has told me why I’m here, getting my ass kicked by a guy with a fucking metal arm!” 

A small smile pulled at his lips and all the anger from being held captive here built up causing me to bring my hand back, wiping that smile off his face with my fist. 

Regret filled me when I saw the quick flash of anger cloud his eyes but his deep laugh relaxed my shoulders a tad. 

“That’s more like it.” He muttered while rubbing his jaw. 

“I already know how to fight. I don’t need someone to teach me,” I admitted, fists clenched at my sides. 

Soldat nodded. “Then next time should be easy for you.” 

Day 37

The chill in the air caused me to wrap the blanket closer to me as I dug myself deeper into the bed that I started calling my own. I was unsure of the time but the tiredness in my bones made me believe it was time to let sleep succumb to me. 

A soft sigh left my lips as my mind wandered yet again to the man that had been clouding it the past few weeks. 

It had been almost two weeks since my last training session with Soldat. He stopped coming by in the mornings and nights which made me wonder if our sessions were over and what that meant for me. 

That thought was short-lived when Berge brought in someone else to train me. He didn’t want me to forget anything while Soldat was away. 

Rumor had it, Hydra sent him away from some mission. 

Besides the one old guard that would bring my food twice a day, Soldat was the only constant thing in this prison that had become my home. 

Heavy eyes fluttered shut, breaths becoming deeper and heavier and the long awaited sleep was so close. But the door to my room slamming open caused my eyes to snap open and I pushed myself to my knees. I watched as Soldat entered, anger clear on his face. 

“Where have you-.” 

The air to my lungs was constricted as Soldat wrapped his metal fingers around my throat, slamming me deeper into the cot. 

I trashed against his body, nails digging into the skin of his flesh arm, not bothering him an inch. I racked my brain for all the training he had taught me to try and get out of this. I attempted to wrap my legs around his waist to flip him but he was two seconds ahead of me, his flesh hand pining my hips down onto the bed. 

My body began to sweat with the fear of what was about to come. 

I wrapped a hand around his metal wrist as I looked into his eyes, the light far gone from them. 

“Soldat,” I choked out. 

The air suddenly rushed back into my lungs causing me to cough uncontrollably as he finally let go, the bruises already starting to form I was sure. 

His hand and hips kept me locked into place on the bed and his other hand gripped my chin, forcing me to look in his eyes. 

“You only train with me. No one else can have you.” His voice demanded through gritted teeth. 

Once I could breathe again, I gave him a sorrowful nod. “I’m sorry.” 

We stayed in this position for a few more beats, his hips locking mine into place while his eyes bore into my own. His chest rose and fell with each breath, mimicking my own in the small tank top I wore; it was one of the few clothes that Hydra had lent me. 

Soldat’s eyes traveled over the swell of my breasts and I felt the heat spread down to my core as he slowly ran his tongue over his bottom lip. 

“Get some sleep. We’re starting early tomorrow,” he breathed before pushing himself off of me. 

The room had a sudden chill to it as soon as he left the room and after wrapping myself into a cocoon with my blanket, I found myself falling asleep wishing it was his arms

Day 56

Chains dragged behind me as I followed the path the two guards were leading me on. We turned a corner and continued down another long hallway. They had dragged me out of bed this morning, muttering something about getting some “fresh air”. 

I chuckled at their definition of fresh air; it was a small sunroom with a few potted plants and one large bench seat. Thankfully the bright sunlight beamed through the glass windows, spreading warmth into my skin. 

“Ten minutes,” one of the guards demanded while tossing me a book. 

They took their post on the outside of the door, backs turned to me, and I opted for not reading the book deciding I would rather stare out of the windows. This was the first time in almost two months that I had been granted access to the outside world. 

Sort of. 

The beautiful images of mountains scattered the skyline, the fresh snow blowing in the wind. I walked closer to the windows, peering down below and that was when I realized I was high up. 

Wherever I was being held captive was on top of a mountain. 

“Beautiful.” 

Jumping at the deep voice, I looked over my shoulder and a small smile came to my face. 

“Soldat, you’ve returned.” 

He nodded, tucking a strand of hair out of his face. “I returned last night.” 

“How was your mission?” 

His silence was enough of an answer I needed. 

“Have you been training?” He questioned, still keeping a safe distance between us. 

Immediately I shook my head, the chains rattling. “They won’t let me while you're away. You’re the only one I can train with.”

Soldat turned his head, eyes taking in the appearance of the chains around my wrists and ankles. A scowl appeared underneath the stubble covering his mouth and he beckoned me over with a finger. 

Swallowing thickly, I tried the best I could to walk over to him, feet coming to a halt in front of him. He gripped the chains with his metal fingers, breaking them off of me with ease. 

“You’re not a monster,” he muttered. 

I rubbed away the red marks on my wrists while giving him a smile of thanks. “What will happen to you once they find out?”

“You should get some rest, we have a big training session tomorrow.” Soldat spoke, ignoring my question. 

I wondered with fear what exactly they would do to him. Every time he would arrive back from a mission, his screams would echo through the base, keeping me awake at night. I yearned to be with him, comfort him. He was the only constant in my life now, I would do anything to be with him; to keep him from pain. 

“Will you sit with me?” I nodded to the bench. “We don’t need to talk, just your company is enough.” 

His body tensed, a bit hesitant, before he nodded and we both sat down with our knees a few spaces away from each other. I reached for the book and felt his gaze burn deep into the side of my head as I quietly read the pages, Russian almost becoming a second language to me. 

We sat in silence, Soldat’s eyes watching me as I carefully turned the pages of the book, enjoying the quiet company of the man who would scare others. 

“Soldat, do you know what this word is? I haven’t come across this one yet.” 

I pointed towards a word in the book that was giving me trouble and felt the heat radiate off of him as he leaned closer to me, his shoulder brushing against my own. 

“Dorogaya. It means my darling.” 

My core twitched at the Russian translation and I coughed, trying to mask my arousal. “Thank you.” 

“Dorogaya,” he repeated, this time more quietly to himself. 

Day 85

“Faster! Harder!”

I let the screams of slight encouragement fuel me as I landed my fists into Soldat’s bare stomach, the force behind my punches doing nothing to phase him. 

He reached for my neck but I swiftly ducked while spinning on my heels, tripping him in the process. Soldat landed hard on his back, the wind being knocked out of him, and I straddled his hips with my own, my hands pinning his own above his head. 

Our breaths matched in sync, eyes boring into each other, and the sight of the smirk on his face made my heart nearly burst out of its cage. 

“I win,” I breathed, my breath fanning over his bare chest. 

My fingers itched want to run all over his grooves and muscles. Resisting the urge, I released my grip on his hands but felt the world turn as Soldat gripped my hips, slamming me on my back. His dark eyes stared down at mine, tongue rolling antagonizing slowly between his lips. He leaned closer to my own, his warm breath breathing life into me. 

“I let you win.” 

“Oh really,” I cheekily asked, a flirtatious smirk pulling at my lips. 

Soldat nodded with his nose brushing against my own. “Of course, dorogaya.” 

My heart fluttered at the pet name he had given me. Ever since our time in the sun room together, we had slowly started becoming closer with each and every training session. I was, however, afraid to take it farther than our flirtatious comments and soft touches. I wouldn’t allow him to get in trouble, or worse; hurt. Just because of how I felt about him. 

His metal fingers traced down from my cheek to my neck and rested above the lines of my breasts. My breath became erratic when the lightly brushed over my left nipple, perky already due to the coldness of the building. Fingers dug through his locks and gave a slight tug causing a groan to vibrate low in Soldat’s chest. 

“Are you leaving again?” I asked. 

He shook his head while palming my breast and I allowed a moan to slip through my lips.

“I told them no more missions until our training is done,” He spoke low. 

I nodded. 

“We really should stop. Before they find us.” I stuttered, not wanting him to stop kneading my breast with his hand. 

“Let them, they can’t do anything to hurt me that they haven’t done before,” Soldat breathed into the skin of my neck. 

He nipped and sucked there, leaving his mark to show the others here who I belonged to. My hands ran down the thickness of his back and I pressed my hips up into his, a loud hiss breaking its way out of his throat. 

“Dorogaya,” Soldat moaned. 

My fingers traced up his back, slowly fading over where his skin met metal. His body tensed, the lust in the air immediately dissipating as he pushed his body off of me. I was left alone on the dirty floor of my room as I watched him grab his shirt, throwing it over his chest. 

“Did I do something?” I questioned, sitting to my knees. 

“I need to go,” he grunted. 

“Soldat,” I stood to my feet now, “Please tell me if I did something!” 

He ignored my cries of wonder, letting the door slam behind him and drowning out my quiet sobs. 

Day 124

No more training sessions. 

Berge had told me that I was done training with Soldat. He had too many missions to go on and not enough time to give to me. Doubt racked my brain if that was truly the reason why they wouldn’t allow him to train me anymore. They must have found out about us. 

I couldn’t dwell on it for long, Berge assigned another guard to my training. He wasn’t anything compared to Soldat; he was quiet and wouldn’t allow me the chance to improve. Only wanting to show off his strength. We had moved the training sessions in the main area of the compound, in front of every eye. But the only eyes that mattered were the ones that I wanted approval of. 

Soldat would watch from a distance, not bothering to step in when the new trainer would hit me a little too hard. I wouldn’t let that phase me, though. I gave it back a hundred times harder which would only anger him more. 

Which is how I ended up sporting a black eye for the last week. 

Soldat almost stepped in when the new trainers hand grazed lower and lower from my back with each session. Earlier today, we had been sparring in front of all of the other guards and I did my best to ignore their gawks of stares as I attempted to land a strike to his stomach. He was a step ahead of me, twisting my wrist behind my back and pulling me into his chest. I felt his rapid breathing against my back as he leaned his lips against my ear. 

“I love the way your ass fits against me,” He groaned. 

I knew if I tried anything he would twist my arm higher up so I stood frozen in fear while my eyes traveled to the man in the corner, giving him silent pleads for help. 

Soldat turned his back on me. 

After the sparring session, I retreated back to my room, a broken woman. My ego was hurt that I had succumbed so low to these beatings in front of other men. My heart was broken that the one man I had fallen hard for wanted nothing to do with me.

A soft groan left my lips as I stared out into the darkness of the room, sleep being the farthest thing from my mind. 

“God, Y/N you’ve got to move on from him,” I ran a hand over my face with a very unattractive groan leaving my lips. 

“Talking to yourself again?” 

Sitting up in bed, I turned on the bedside lamp and made out a large silhouette standing by the door. But even in the soft darkness, the metal arm was hard to miss. 

“What are you doing here?” I questioned. 

Soldat stepped closer, stopping at the foot of my bed. “I’ve come to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” My voice shook with fear. 

I then noticed he was dressed in his tac gear which meant only one thing. 

“You’re going on a mission?” 

He nodded. “I’ll be back by tomorrow night.” 

Pulling my knees to my chest, I raised my brow at him. “You’ve never said goodbye before.”

“I wanted to see you.” He gave a small shrug of his broad shoulders. 

“Oh,” I mouthed.

I allowed silence to overcome us as we both stared at one another, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. My palms began to sweat seeing the fire behind his eyes and I absentmindedly bit my lip. 

Soldat ran a hand through his hair before a quiet fuck it slipped from his lips. He kicked off his boots before crawling his way towards me on the bed. 

“What are you doing?” I asked. 

He ignored my question, only rolling onto his back while pulling me into his chest and his arms wrapping around me. The rapid beating of his heart told me that he was nervous but still kept his arms tightly around me. 

“I’ve been on hundreds of missions but now,” Soldat started, “Now, I’m worried about leaving you. With them.” 

“I’ll be fine. You’ve taught me well.” I gave his sides a small squeeze. 

“I’ve never felt this way before. It’s all new to me.” He admitted. 

“What is?” 

Instead of using words, Soldat’s fingers grazed my chin and pulled my face up to look into his eyes. He took a deep breath before he gently placed his plump lips over mine. The hairs on his chin and face tickled me as our lips moved slowly in sync. 

My heart thumped through its cage in my chest as I ran my fingers through his hair, deepening the kiss. His own hands found their way over my stomach, down to my core and slowly ghosted over it. 

“Soldat, please.” I moaned. 

“You’re mine.” He grunted, fingers finally touching my heated core over my shorts. “All mine.” 

“Only yours, I promise.” 

My breath hitched in my throat when I felt the heat of his fingers against the skin of my stomach, brushing over the waistband of my shorts. While his flesh ones worked with the ties of my shorts, his metal one pulled the ends of my hair, forcing my eyes away from his work on my shorts. 

“I’ll come back to you.” He vowed. 

I nodded. 

“I know you will and I’ll be here waiting for you. Always.” 

Soldat brushed his lips against mine, tongue delving between my lips and danced with my own as the kiss intensified. 

“I have to go.” He groaned against me. 

“Stay.” I begged, clutching onto his arms. 

“It’s my mission.” 

Pulling away reluctantly, I gripped his chin and stared into his eyes. “Please be safe.” 

“Of course, dorogaya.” 

Day 131

Seven days. 

One week. 

168 hours. 

That’s how long it had been since I last saw Soldat. 

He had yet to return from his mission and what originally was supposed to be a one night mission turned into one week. 

I sat on the edge of my cot with my knee bouncing in worry as I chewed roughly on my bottom lip. I feared that Berge had found out about Soldat and I, which was the reason why he had yet to return. 

“Where the hell are you?” I muttered. 

I waited a little while longer, eyes trained hard on the door, hoping that he would bust through any moment. But after a few minutes of nothingness, I turned my back to the door only for it to open a second later. 

“Come with me.” 

My eyes squinted towards the guard, confusion well on my face. “Where are you taking me? I haven’t left in a whole week.” 

“Soldat’s orders.” The guard ordered. 

My heart rate sped up at the mention of his name. “Is he back?” 

“No but he’s requested that you stay in his living quarters now.” 

“Wh-what? Why?” I sputtered. 

“As a reward for completing his mission. Come now.” 

The guard quickly waved me to follow and not wanting to live another minute in this tiny hell, I scrambled to my feet and followed. Not bothering to take anything with me, I tracked close behind the guard as we turned a few more corners, coming to a stop at a lone door at the end of the hallway. 

The guard grunted towards the door before leaving me alone, my steady breaths coming in and out of my nose as I took a second to gain my bearings. In the months that I had been held captive here, I had never seen Soldat’s room; or anything else besides my room, the sparing center, and the “outside” room I was allowed to sit in every few days. 

My hand gently grasped the cold knob and taking one last breath, I slowly pushed the door open. Before my feet crossed the threshold, I gazed around the room taking in every inch of Soldat’s private space. 

It wasn’t big by any means, it would definitely be crowded with the two of us, however it warmed my heart knowing that we would be sharing that bed together. The bed was only made for one and was even small for Soldat. 

Next to the bed was a table that mirrored the one I had in my room. On the top of the table rested a small lamp and a book that looked like it was read ten times over. On the other side of the room was a small dresser that had more books resting on it and next to the dresser was a door that led to somewhere I was unsure of. The large window on one wall allowed the sunset to stream in, painting the entire room in a golden light. 

My gaze rested on a pair of clothes that were neatly folded on the chair in the other corner of the room. Taking a breath, I crossed over the threshold into Soldat’s room and grasped the pair of clean clothes in my hands. It was only a new pair of jeans, underwear, and a long sleeve shirt but the soft fabric was enough to bring me to tears. I had only been given new clothes once since being here and that was the first night. 

“It’s not much but it’s home.” 

Jumping at the deep voice, I turned on my heels and felt my heart leap to my throat. Soldat stood at the doorway, his body a clear indication of the toll the mission put on him. Stray hairs had fallen from the low bun he had pulled them in, the lines on his face screamed that he hadn’t slept in days, and his tac gear was covered in dirt and blood, the blood had also covered his metal arm in streams. Fear raked my body, wondering whose blood was all over Soldat and I bit my lip to stop from asking. 

“You’re back,” I breathed. 

He remained silent, his intense gaze taking over my body. His body tensed when he fell on my lips, the sight of the two cuts burning into his brain. 

“What happened?” 

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I shifted on my feet. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” 

“What happened?” Soldat questioned again, this time closing the distance between us. 

Metal fingers gripped my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes as they danced over my face. Anger flashed across them when the soft words left my busted lips. 

“Ben didn’t appreciate getting beat by a girl.” 

“What did he do?” Soldat demanded. 

“He just hit me a little too hard. I’m fine, Soldat.” I reassured him as I gripped his flesh arm. 

The anger still flooded his veins and I linked my fingers with his metal ones, fearing he would leave me and do something we would both regret. 

“You need to get yourself cleaned up,” I encouraged. 

Soldat was still silent, only giving me a small nod as he pulled me with him towards the closed door. 

“What?” I questioned. 

“You need a bath.” He demanded. 

Licking my lips, I let the fear of him seeing my bare flesh push away the thoughts of us in the bath together.

“No, you can go first Soldat. The blood is going to take awhile to clean.” I lied, hoping that would keep the thought of us naked together out of his head. 

I was afraid of what he would think when he saw the bruises and scars that covered my body. 

His eyes hardened, seeing right through my lies, as he gripped my arm causing a loud hiss to pass through my lips. 

“Fuck,” I cursed pulling my arm to my chest. 

He didn’t grip me that hard, I knew that. It only hurt because of the bruise that covered half of my forearm. 

“Take off your shirt.” 

The soles of my shoes were frozen to my spot, being weighed down with the fear of what Soldat was about to see.

“Sol-.” I started. 

“Take it off,” his voice was deeper and rougher. 

Gnawing on my bottom lip, shaky fingers gripped the bottom of my shirt, slowly raising it over my stomach and head, letting it fall to the floor in silence. Instinctively my arms wrapped around my chest, trying to cover as much as I could. Soldat didn’t make me uncomfortable; the idea of showing him my battle scars is what did. 

His dark eyes were now almost black as he looked over my bareness of flesh, taking in every inch of bruises and new scars that had yet to heal over my stomach, chest, and arms. The blood had dried hours ago but the exhaustion of today’s training had stopped me from cleaning my wounds. 

My mouth dried with the intensity radiating from Soldat’s body. 

“We-uh, Ben decided to start the knife training today. He wouldn’t let me get a chance to prove myself. He kept stabbing and slicing,” I admitted quietly. 

Soldat's tongue grazed over his bottom lip and nodded to the door behind me. “We need to clean those wounds.” 

“Are you upset?” 

The tone in his voice answered my question before I even asked it but I needed to make sure he wouldn’t leave, do something stupid. 

He remained silent, beckoning me to follow him with a snap of his head. Obeying with a soft sigh, I trailed behind him into the bathroom that was connected to his room. The soft breeze coming from the vents caused me to wrap my arms around my bare chest, trying to keep the warmth in. I could see the way Soldat’s muscles in his back tensed as he leaned over, running hot water and letting it fill the tub. The steam danced around his head as he peeked over his shoulder, nodding towards my pants. 

The silence was thickening and my fingers gripped the top of my pants, slowly pulling them down my legs; the new visions of bruises and scars clouding Soldat’s vision. The only thing keeping me from bearing it all to him was a thin piece of fabric. Soldat turned on his knees, face inches from my core, and goosebumps rose to my skin as I felt his finger slide my underwear down over my knees and I stepped out of them. He tossed them to the side while keeping his eyes trained hard on me as he looked up into my own. 

“Get in.” Soldat’s flesh fingers tapped the back of my thigh, his warm breath brushing against my heated core. 

The water immediately eased the sore muscles and wounds as I submerged myself, pulling my knees to my chest. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see Soldat stripping himself of his own clothes before I felt the water slosh behind me. Metal fingers wrapped around my middle pulling me into a hard chest. We sat in silence as he first cleaned me then him. 

“I should have been here,” his words mumbled against the skin of my shoulder as he pressed a soft kiss there. 

“You needed to go on your mission.” I reminded him. 

“I will kill him.” He vowed. 

I hushed him with a soft squeeze of his thigh, fingers resting easily over the mass of them. “I’ll be alright.” 

“You’re coming with me on the next mission.” 

I smiled at the softness in his voice. 

“I don’t think Berge will like that.” I admitted. 

Soldat took a damp cloth to my legs and stomach, cleaning the wounds with soft touches. 

“They can kill me to try and stop me.” Soldat deadpanned. 

I opened my mouth to protest but he silenced me with a kiss to my forehead, whispering promises of him saving me, protecting me, no matter what the cost will be. 

“I missed you, dorogaya.”Soldat breathed, his cock hardening against the small of my back. 

“I missed you too,” I moaned. 

His fingers grazed over my core underneath the water, rubbing circles over my clit. His lips attached to my neck, leaving his mark for all to see. 

“I need you.” 

The water splashed out of the tub as Soldat lifted me out and carried me bridal style into his bedroom. I fell to the bed with a soft sigh and my eyes took in the God-like form of Soldat, his dick twitching with anticipation. I took in every groove and line of his muscles, the way they tensed under the light as he stood in front of me. 

“Soldat,” I begged, “I can’t wait anymore.” 

“Say your mine.” He commanded. 

“I’m yours.” 

“Good girl,” Soldat praised while his metal fingers stroked his already hard cock. 

He slowly climbed up the bed, laying soft kisses over the skin of my legs and thighs on his way up. My body shook with the want of his body on mine, skin on skin underneath the moonlight from outside. 

That night, our bodies linked together in pure bliss and adoration for one another. Our moans that bounced off the walls were a proclamation of our growing love for each other. 

That night was the first and last time Soldat and I made love.

 Day 132-The last day. 

Eyes slowly blinked open as I patted the spot next to me, finding it empty and cold. My brows pulled together in confusion as I looked around the room trying to figure out where Soldat had gone. I groaned at the soreness between my legs as I sat up in bed, clutching the sheet tighter to my chest. The memories of last night clouded my vision and my cheeks reddened remembering all the ways Soldat’s fingers and mouth had pleasured me. 

The door had burst open causing me to jump at the sight of the man that had entered. 

“Where did you–?” 

“You have to go; leave.” Soldat rushed while handing me my clothes. 

“What?” Tears started to well up in my eyes. 

“You need to leave, now. It’s not safe for you anymore.” Soldat demanded. 

Rising from the bed, I let the sheet fall to the floor before quickly dressing. 

“What are you talking about?” 

Soldat ran a hand over his tired face before a loud sigh left his lips. “Berge has plans for you that I will not let happen. You need to leave here.” 

“Plans?” I croaked. “What plans?” 

“There’s a door on the other end of the compound that I always leave through to go on my missions. I left it unlocked last night. Once you’re outside, run west for 5 miles. There will be a gas station where you can call for a ride.” 

Soldat ignored my questioning pleads as he handed me a pair of his boots and a jacket to keep me warm once I was outside. 

“No, Soldat. I’m not leaving you.” 

“It’s not up for discussion. You’re leaving.” He demanded. 

“I won’t leave you. I love-.”

My confession was short lived as we heard voices yelling from down the hallway. Soldat cursed before pulling me into his chest. His plump lips brushed against my forehead while his hands wrapped around my back, giving a hard squeeze. My fingers gripped tight his vest, the fear of leaving him weighing heavy on my chest. 

“I can’t leave you, Soldat.” I confessed. 

“Wait ten minutes then take a left at the end of the hallway, the door to your escape will be the last one on the left.” 

Soldat pulled away from me, strong eyes staring into my sad ones. His pink lips stood out from underneath the stubble that had grown since the last time I had seen him. I unknowingly reached out for him as he took a step away from me. 

“Soldat,” I sobbed. “Please don’t make me leave.” 

“Stay safe, Dorogaya.”  

We shared one last loving glance before I watched him turn his back on me, walk down the hall and out of my life. 

Those ten minutes had passed by antagonizing slowly and now matter how much I wanted to stay here with Soldat, I knew that he was looking out for my safety. We both knew the kind of man Berge was and if whatever he had planned for me scared even Soldat, I knew I had to trust him. 

Regretfully, my feet took me down the way that Soldat had instructed me. They froze, however, when I noticed commotion coming from the room to my left; the one I had to pass in order for me to reach my freedom. 

“Get him in the chair!” 

“Sir, it’s been months since we’ve wiped him. We don’t know the risks!” 

“I don’t care about the risks! He needs to forget her!” 

Slowly peeking from around the corner, I watched in fear as four men struggled to get Soldat in a chair that sat in the middle of the room. No matter how much he had fought the men, Soldat gave up in the end, falling into the chair with a groan. 

When his broken eyes landed on me, his chest rose in fear and he motioned to the door, begging me to leave. 

“I’m sorry,” I mouthed. 

Not wanting to stick around and see what they were about to do to him, no matter how much I loved him, I ran down the hallway and out of the prison I had called home for the last 132 days. And away from the one and only man that would haunt my dreams every single night for the next three years.

[makeyoumine69]

Lost Memory (Memory Reboot x4)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader x Timothy Bryce

SUMMARY: Two lost souls, both broken and neglected, knowing they were never meant to be, found solace in each other just for one night.

CONTAINS: SMUT, angst, depression, obsessive thoughts, mentions of death, canon violence, tainted love, blow jobs, face-sitting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, dirty talk, pet names, sensual foreplay, rimming, intoxication, praise kink.

WORDS: 4.5k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Lost Memory

A/N: Hello everyone, the new chapter is finally here! I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope you like it!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

Cool New York night air enveloped your shivering frame the moment you walked outside, leaving the noisy wedding party behind the walls of the luxurious Ziegfeld Ballroom. Slowly breathing in the fresh air, you closed your eyes and threw your head back a little to come back to your senses—you were literally broken to pieces, to say the least—your heart was pounding painfully in your chest and at some point you wished it would stop beating, thinking that it would end everything and finally set you free from all this pain and suffering. 

Hugging yourself, you took a few weak strides towards the street where cars were speeding by. Just one step, and tomorrow all the newspapers would report that there had been an accident in Manhattan right next to the Ziegfeld Ballroom where the pompous wedding of our Wall Street golden boy was taking place. You laughed to yourself at all this nonsense, how did you ever get into such a situation? Being completely sober, the realization of what you were thinking hit you even harder than if you were drunk or high, but now you were completely lucid, able to feel every twinge of pain.

Bewildered, you watched the yellow cars go by, sometimes you could see the impassive faces of the passengers inside. All this reminded you of a movie whose name you could never really remember. But it was definitely not a comedy or a drama. Maybe it was a documentary about someone's life... a tragic life?

With a sad sigh, you were about to sit down on the curb when you heard loud footsteps behind you and turned around to see a familiar silhouette approaching.

"Bateman?" You asked, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

The man didn't answer, as if he hadn't noticed you at all, casually pulling a cigar out of the pocket of his Prada coat that he wore over his wedding tuxedo, and for a second you thought it was just an illusion your sick mind managed to maintain to keep your psyche from collapsing.

After lighting his cigar, Patrick made a long drag before finally giving you an agonizing stare. "Just wanted to have some fresh air..." he paused, his white teeth clenching around the cigar, making his jawline look so sharp that even in the dark you could see it. "Plus, Evelyn didn't want me to smoke inside. We just got married and she's already making scenes."

You wanted to say something, but stopped at the last moment—his hazel eyes suddenly took your breath away—leaving you completely speechless.

"And you," Bateman continued as he came closer, his elegant figure looking so seductive in the dim light. "I can't believe you left all your business in Chicago just to come here and get squashed like a fucking cockroach!"

"What? What are you talking about?" You asked in a shaky tone, your temples pulsating with a strange tension that made you want to massage them. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

Patrick grinned wickedly as he leveled himself with you, the difference in height only adding to the menace of his appearance. "Tell me one thing, (y/n)," he whispered above your cheek, keeping the mere distance between the two of you. "Did you really think I'd dream of you coming back to me?"

You closed your eyes involuntarily, every word he said bringing the most inhuman pain you had ever felt. "S-stop," you replied, stepping back. "Shut... shut your damn mouth!"

"Ohhh," he cooed at you in a mocking way, which drove you crazy, but then he blew some smoke right in your face, which made you want to punch him in the chest. "You just have to accept that you lost," Bateman suddenly grabbed the collar of your coat to pull you closer. "Just accept that you fell in love with a man who doesn't give a fuck about you."

On the verge of tears, you didn't even struggle as the ground beneath your feet suddenly began to disappear. "I... I will not give you the satisfaction of hating you... you f-fucking bastard!"

Without thinking, you spat right into his smug face and before you knew it, his strong arms were wrapped around your trembling neck, almost straddling you so you couldn't even make a sound. Everything around you began to blur, and the last moment you remembered before passing out was Patrick's menacing laugh as he pushed you right out into the road in front of the speeding car. A fatal blow hit your body, a screeching sound of tires rang in your ears and you screamed in pain, choking on your own breath.

And then the darkness finally took you.

At least you thought so until you heard a familiar male voice calling out to you, and no, it wasn't Patrick. No way, if you were really going to die, you wished you would never meet him in the place you were going to transfer to. No doubt, that son of a bitch would burn in hell while you would end up in heaven. Somehow you were sure of that.

"Jesus, (y/n), will you stop yelling?" The grumpy voice called out to you again.

You blinked several times before opening your eyes to see the opulent interior around you. And who said that heaven was somewhere in the sky where angels were flying around promising a peaceful afterlife?

"Welcome back," the dark-haired man chuckled, swirling his drink in his hand. "I told you not to mix too many cocktails."

Cocktails?

You recoiled as if from an electric shock as you suddenly heard your inner voice, seemingly silent for centuries. Rubbing your eyes, you tried to get up, but the next moment you fell back onto something soft, which seemed to be a car seat, considering you definitely heard the engine rumble, so you were definitely in someone's car. Another attempt to get up was more successful and you took your time exploring the surroundings, and when you managed to get a good look at the person sitting on the opposite side of you, your heart did a flip-flop in your chest.

"Bryce?" You couldn't believe your eyes at first, but when you saw his cheeky grin, you knew it was really him.

"You drifted off right after we got in, so I decided not to wake you," Timothy replied nonchalantly before taking a sip of his drink. "Nice limo? Evelyn and Bateman were supposed to be in it, but then he told me they were leaving in a fucking helicopter," the man laughed, almost dropping the glass. "A fucking helicopter, can you believe that?"

Your head was spinning, making it difficult to process the information. Grunting, you pressed your hand to your forehead, trying to remember how you got in here in the first place.

"Ohhh...my head," you hissed, almost kicking the tray of drinks that was on the small table built into the limo door. "What...what happened after the ceremony ended," your question left Tim speechless and for a moment you both remained silent. "Bryce?"

Timothy frowned and placed the empty glass on his knee. "Are you kidding?"

"For God's sake, Bryce!" You suddenly raised your voice, but the next second you hissed in pain. "Can... can you just fucking tell me what the hell am I doing here?"

"You're asking me that?" Bryce tilted his head as he watched you try to sit comfortably. "Come on, (y/n), this isn't funny anymore. Besides, I warned you not to drink too much."

Tsk... I can't remember a damn thing.

When you managed to sit up straight, you pressed yourself against the cold window and sighed in relief. "And what exactly did...we drink?" 

The man scoffed. "I told you...you had several cocktails, but that was not enough...so you decided to finish everything the bar had."

"Ahh, screw you! I don't believe a word you're saying," you threw one leg over the other, watching the blinding lights of oncoming traffic. "Where are we going?!"

"Where? Jeez, if you can't drink, you better not even try," Tim replied curtly, his voice changing, now devoid of any sass. "We're going to my place."

"What?"

"Stop fucking pretending you don't remember," the man barked, squirming in his seat, the glass felt on the soft floor of the limo, thankfully it didn't break. "Do you know how deranged you are? You talked in your sleep-"

"I didn't!" You tried to interrupt him, completely embarrassed. "Take another glass and-"

"No, no, no, hold on!" Bryce leaned forward to get closer so you could see his face more clearly. "Did I hit the nerve?"

Yes, you did. You fucking did.

If only you could really confess and open up to him without fear of being accused or whatever. Would it even be right to tell Tim everything that happened between you and Patrick? When you were so close to telling him all the things that were bothering you, your voice suddenly disappeared, as if some invisible force was choking you from within. Only after a few minutes did you manage to speak, feeling Timothy's piercing gaze.

"Was it Evelyn who invited you to the wedding?" Your question surprised him, you could tell by the way he leaned back in his seat. "I'm just curious...because she invited me."

Every time Evelyn was mentioned, something changed in his expression, and you couldn't really find the right word to describe it—it was something much stronger than the usual sadness people always talked about—something that made you sad, too.

"Let's say," his lips curled into a wry smile and you couldn't take your eyes off them, they were beautiful and alluring. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember or...you don't want to remember?" You opened your coat, suddenly feeling suffocated in your clothes.

Bryce furrowed his thick eyebrows, looked down at the empty glass on the floor, as did you, and then your fingers touched as you both leaned down to pick it up. Tim's skin was not as soft as Patrick's, it felt completely different, it made you want to explore it more, to touch it, to taste it, as if it was your own personal forbidden fruit.

Without saying a word, Tim quickly pulled away and took the glass to place it on the tray next to the others, the amber liquid in them making them look like they were made of gold. There was no room for any more talk as the two of you pulled each other into a furious kiss, you let him place his hand at the base of your neck, drawing you closer and soon you were sitting on top of him, gasping into his mouth. Bryce's slightly flushed face made it impossible to think of Bateman, even though his image tried to appear every time you briefly opened your eyes. 

Leave... me... alone!

You almost growled aloud, but Tim's eager tongue prevented you from doing so, as he used it to shut you up completely, licking your mouth from the inside while his hands slid down your back to your ass, massaging it, and when you thought he was going to slap it, he just gave it a playful squeeze.

"Jesus, Bryce," you whispered against his red lips, swollen from your kisses. "I didn't know you could be so sweet."

Tim craned his neck and you seized the moment to leave a wet hickey on his smooth skin, he smelled so good you thought you could just snuggle into his chest and sniff his scent. And why did you even bother with these childish, silly games with Bateman? Unfortunately, some questions never had answers, but it didn't matter now. Not when you could find comfort in the arms of Patrick's best friend. 

God, I wish you could see me right now.

"There's so little you know about me, baby." He chirped before helping you take off your coat, his impatience turning you on wildly. 

With a soft giggle, you unbuttoned your shirt. "Huh, baby? Really? And I thought you were the type who didn't use such primitive nicknames."

Smirking, you teased him with the slow rocking of your hips against his, feeling his hard length pressed against your burning core, and it spurred you to move faster, more erratically, as you unexpectedly became as impatient as he was. And even though you didn't like losing control, you wanted to get lost right now, even though you'd probably regret it tomorrow, but at least the regret would be different.

Nibbling at the artery on your neck, Timothy grabbed your ass tighter to make the friction more vivid, his finger digging into the expensive material of your Gucci pants. "I can call you anything you want," he growled into your collarbone, your shirt half undone. "Just tell me what you want to be tonight?"

"I can be anything," you caught his warm lips with your own to kiss him again in a way that bordered on desperation, as if your life depended on it, and he responded with the same ferocity. "Anything you want..."

Chuckling at your cheeky statement, the man lounged in his seat and looked at you up and down, admiring the way your clothes were disheveled, your hair was nothing like it had been when you had just arrived at the wedding and even your feelings were different. Everything was different now, the whole world seemed to diminish to the size of the interior of the limousine and you both wanted this moment to last forever, but you knew it was impossible.

Bryce decided to use his mouth in a more effective way than just talking, latching it around your nipple through your shirt, but then taking it off completely and swirling his tongue around your hard tip.

"Don't be anything," he quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled out his hard cock. "Just be mine tonight."

You couldn't hide a smile of genuine satisfaction as his words struck a chord in your chest. "Deal."

With that, you carefully rose from his lap to position yourself between his wide-open legs, watching him touch himself with pure abandon. And yet, everything about Tim was far too alien, your mind kept bringing back the memories of what had happened in the bathroom a few hours ago. It hurt, it hurt so much that you almost chewed your cheek to the point of blood to hold back the tears. Bryce, you had to focus on Bryce, he was here, right in front of you, all spread out and pumping his thick cock. 

Stop thinking about Bateman!

"Are you sure you know what to do?" Timothy glared down at you, concerned by the sudden change in your demeanor.

Shaking yourself off, you smiled in reply and before you knew it, your hand was sliding along his, then completely replacing it and stroking his dick vigorously, smearing his dense pre-cum all along your hand. 

"Watch me," you murmured and lowered yourself even more to take him in your mouth, savoring his salty taste. "Mhhm...fuck, Bryce, you taste so good."

Tim couldn't stop himself from moaning, grabbing the edge of the seat and closing his eyes in ecstasy. "Keep going," he purred, fighting the urge to fuck your throat. "Shit... Bateman doesn't even know what he lost."

Bryce's words almost made you choke on his beefy shaft, but it only took a moment to pull yourself together and just enjoy the way his dick slid in and out of your mouth. As the man pushed himself further, the tip brushing against your throat, you leaned against his hips for support, allowing him to have his way with you. Just the sight of him made you tremble with desire, as you had never really thought that Tim could be so hot, not that you had any doubts that he was a skilled lover, but reality never ceased to surprise you.

"I...I'm so fucking close...uh," his voice dropped even lower, eloquent proof of his words. "Your mouth...arhhh...you know how to work magic with your mouth, babe."

Although you had always denied having a praise kink, being with Tim was the first time you were truly willing to admit that you did have a praise kink. Every little praise he gave you was like balm to your broken soul, encouraging you to suck him harder, to drink him dry. These two men were far too unlike each other, but in the end, you seemed to crave them both.

Being so close to falling apart, Bryce couldn't control himself any more and took a handful of your hair and plunged full length into your bruised mouth until you both noticed that the car had stopped. Tim swore loudly but that didn't stop you and the next thing you remembered was feeling thick ropes of his hot cum shooting down your throat and you could swear it tasted so fucking sweet. Maybe you were delusional, maybe it was just another hallucination–you didn't care because you were high like no drugs could make you.

I'll remember that taste for sure. 

A little later, you didn't know exactly how much time had passed, and you didn't recollect how the two of you had gotten into Bryce's apartment. You didn't care about the luxury of this place, how expensive the furniture was, how soft the silk sheets were when you fell on them, your naked skin sliding along the cold material like a ship on waves. You were about to lose all connection to reality when Tim climbed on top of you, his hairy chest rubbing against yours, your legs wrapped around his waist and you couldn't stifle a moan as his leaky dick rubbed against your legs.

Creasing the sheets, you raked your hand through his black, tousled hair, pulling him closer so that your lips could collide in a hunger kiss. "Fuck me, Tim," you murmured unexpectedly, brushing your feet against his hips. "Fuck me like there's no tomorrow."

"Are you always this needy?" He teased, biting your lower lip and licking it after a quick nibble. "Or is it because of me?"

Perplexed, you stopped doing anything as his words left you pondering. "I... I don't know... I don't know who I really am..."

Bryce nodded without saying anything, his nose touching yours in a brief moment of genuine affection, and somehow you thought he understood everything, that he could read you like an open book and there was no need for you to explain. Pecking your cheek, the man slowly turned you over on your stomach and you quickly got down on all fours because you couldn't wait any longer. Bucking your hips, you turned around to see him positioning himself behind you, his warm palm caressing your ass before a finger probed your tight hole, making you gasp but you didn't falter, showing him how ready and eager you were.

"Uhh," Tim stroked himself several times before aligning himself with your opening and diving in with a slow, deliberate thrust. "Fuck...mmhm-fuck."

The mere thought that he had been imagining Evelyn all this time, starting with you giving him head, suddenly made you angry, and for a brief second you allowed yourself to imagine that it was Patrick who was stretching you from the inside, but somehow you began to feel even worse.

"I'm sorry...I'm not Evelyn," you blurted out without thinking. "But I..."

"Shut up," he cut you off and slammed into you relentlessly, forcing you to take him, no matter how painful it was. "I don't want to hear about her...not even a thing."

Bryce was right, it was so fucking stupid of you to bring Evelyn at such a moment, but it was so hard for you to think clearly and Tim's fat cock didn't help at all, the fullness it gave you was completely overwhelming. It made you forget everything and you didn't even want to compare your sensation with the way Patrick made you feel - your mind was finally free of any emotions or thoughts–you were drowning in a carnal lust. You were both extremely vocal, poor neighbors who could hear you at this hour, but Timothy seemed to be completely indifferent as he set the pace, pounding into you with all his might, each stroke full of desperation and unbridled passion. 

By the time dawn broke, you couldn't remember how many orgasms you'd both had, as you'd probably tried every possible and impossible position. You managed to be on your knees for him, under him, on top of him. It was madness you never thought you were capable of. As you rode his face, touching yourself, you cried out Bryce's name, not even afraid to accidentally use Patrick's name instead. 

"Tim...mhmm-fuck...Tim...I'mma cum!" You fisted his hair, sliding along his glistening face as you rubbed your most sensitive spot. "Fuck...yeahh-Tim...ahhh!"

Shaking, you cum around his face, feeling his strong tongue move inside your tight ass as your inner channel spasmed around it, causing him to moan and hold you close to prolong your climax. Time stopped for both of you with the last stroke of his tongue along your tender flesh and you both collapsed exhausted on the bed. 

The first rays of the sun awoke you earlier than you could have imagined. As you lazily got up from the bed, trying not to disturb Tim snoring peacefully, you checked the time before you started looking for your clothes. To be honest, you wanted to stay here in his bed and continue to sleep in his arms, but you knew it would only lead to destruction and you were sure that Bryce thought the same.

Maybe it was a mistake?

Frowning, you wanted to punch yourself for being so reckless and stupid, but Tim's loud exhale caught your attention. You turned to check on him before leaving his bedroom to quickly get dressed and use the bathroom. All the while, you tried to ignore your own reflection, feeling the shame and contempt eating away at you from within, though you didn't even understand why. Bryce wanted this to happen as much as you did, but no matter how hard you tried to reassure yourself, it just didn't seem right. After one last look in the large mirror above the sink, you left the bathroom and soon after you left Timothy's apartment. 

The taxi ride back to the Plaza Hotel didn't take long as it was only six in the morning. Looking out the window, you saw rare pedestrians walking here and there, some of them holding newspapers that you were sure were the New York Times. The tops of the skyscrapers were about to reach the sky, and every time you craned your neck to look at them, your head began to spin. All these little details made you realize that you missed New York and probably your former life?

Was it worth it leaving everything behind?

This question kept swirling around in your head even as you finally got back into your suit and decided to take a shower to clean up after such a wild day. Dear God, you just fucked two different men in one day. 

"I'm so pathetic..." You muttered to yourself as you stood under the hot water. "What am I going to do now?"

Pressing your head against the wet tiled wall, you gave up and let the tears flow down your face, the water washing them away in an instant. You felt guilty, thinking that you'd only used Bryce for your own needs, knowing that it wouldn't lead to anything serious, but you did it anyway. It was so damn selfish. But then you remembered the words Patrick had said to you in the bathroom just before the ceremony started. You clenched your hand into a fist and the next second you slammed it into the wall with all the strength you had. The blow was so strong that your hand began to bleed, but you ignored it because physical pain was nothing compared to the emptiness inside your soul. As if under a spell, you kept hitting the wall, leaving bloodstains on it. 

Five hours later, you are sitting in the restaurant area of the Plaza, waiting for Paul Allen to join you for lunch. Since you had some time before your flight to Chicago, you thought it would be good to catch up with him and talk a little about your current situation at your new job.

Maybe I can get a fresh start here...

Rocking in your seat, you looked down at your bruised hand, which was covered in a tight white bandage, and luckily you managed to stop the bleeding without going to the hospital, but you were still a little nervous, though not because of your wound. What if Paul would tell you that there was no way you could return to New York because the company in Chicago wouldn't let you go? You tapped your fingers on the table in anxiety before picking up the New York Times to distract yourself. One page, then another, until an interesting article appeared in your vision–a luxurious tobacco store in Upper Manhattan had been robbed–the very store you always liked to visit and even dreamed of buying a collection of cigars to give to Patrick...

"(Y/n)! How have you been?" Paul's cheerful voice echoed across the room and when you turned to face him, you noticed that he looked even more tanned than the last time you saw him. 

"Oh, hi," you accepted his handshake and then Allen took a seat across from you. "I've been better," your other hand was still holding a newspaper and it caught Paul's attention. "What about you?"

Paul nodded in understanding. "Well, my job kicks my ass, is all I can say," he laughed, and before you could say anything else, he pointed to the copy of the New York Times. "What are you reading?"

Slightly embarrassed, you folded the paper and put it aside. "Times," you replied briefly. "The tobacco store I liked to visit was robbed in broad daylight. Can you imagine that?"

Allen shifted in his seat. "I didn't know you frequented places like this," he chuckled, finally opening the menu. "Because I don't remember you smoking."

Smirking, you leaned back in your chair. "You don't know anything about me, Allen," you took a sip of your wine and watched him tense up a bit. "Anyway, I just got a little upset because I wanted to buy something in this store for..." you suddenly stammered, feeling dizzy.

"For...?" Paul arched his eyebrows and looked at you suspiciously.

"For a person... ," you finished. "...a very special one."

"Your date?" The man asked in a playful tone. "And who might that be?"

You found this situation quite ironic, because you really imagined yourself going to that store and buying those fucking cigars, hoping they would impress Bateman, and now you ended up fucking his best friends because he married Evelyn Williams.  

As you propped yourself up on your elbow, you suddenly started to laugh, but then it turned into a pathetic whimper. "I'm so fucked up, Allen," you shook your head and gripped the table. "You can't even imagine how... fucked up... I am."

And I don't know how I'm going to survive this.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[delicrieux]

—𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭, ch.1: things of present and future importance

pairing—carmy berzatto x f!reader genre—drama, romance, age gap, boss/employee relationship warnings for this chapter—trauma, anxiety, swearing, and sum depression as dessert word count—2k

uh-oh, carmen is losing it again, this time in front of his new employee, too. 

author’s note: give me this wet dog of a man and give him to me NOWWWWWWWW

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | read on ao3 . next >

important! some of the dialogue scenes are written as a script & dialogues that overlap are marked in [] <3

there’s a lot of things wrong with this situation, but carmen does not have it in him to care. maybe he never will, and that’s okay, because it’s his fucking restaurant and he knows he could be kinder, could be gentler, could, maybe, keep all of those splinters in his gut from hurting too bad if he took a few deep breaths just how they say in therapy. deep breaths, slow breaths, and then they look at you like you’re a toddler having a meltdown in the middle of the street and suddenly, suddenly, it’s all go fuck yourself and the door slamming shut.

carmen’s an abandoned puppy – disheveled hair and round eyes that have been unloved (by him, most of all), with his head bent and shoulders tense, not sure whether to flee or attack, but offense is the best defense and just like a bad dog he bites when frightened. it’s all teeth and anger and desperation; jaws lock and teeth sink and he doesn’t let go because he’s starving, even if what he’s fighting for is nothing but a cadaver of a place, space, body – brother? no, don’t think of mikey. he’s starving, has been for ages – approval? don’t say that – and that hunger bubbles to the surface when confronted by a minuscule imperfection, like sauce on the stove left to simmer for too long.

it’s a bad first impression, second impression, third, what the fuck, he’s good at food and not very good at math, unless math comes to food and then, maybe, he can sort it out. still bad, still fucking terrible, to be honest, and somewhere in the frying tangles of his mind he knows that yelling doesn’t help, and that yelling in front of the new hire doesn’t bode well for retention. the last enzymes of his sanity warn him – calm down, just, just calm down, carmen, you’re making it worse, you’re making it fucking worse – but the to-go machine keeps beeping, and the kitchen is too hot, and his staff is too anxious, and everything is amplified tenfold by his brother’s looming shadow that exists to him only. don’t think of mikey.

“can someone please turn that fucking thing off?” it’s his voice, laced by such scorn and a barely contained anger that makes him tremble by the pans. he’s losing his mind. sweat collects on his temple and his eyes sting from the fumes billowing onto his face, “sydney!”

“yes, chef.”

sydney’s a trooper, doesn’t bend under pressure like steel, and he sees her maneuvering in his peripherals, quick and agile to not get into anyone’s way, least of all his. briefly, he thinks about burning this place down. he blinks. the beeping stops – she ripped the cord out of the socked, dropped it onto the floor that sent an echo.

the new hire watches this shitshow unfold by her station, eyes wide and weary, ears perked for orders. her hands move – strong hands, swift hands, long fingers and rough palms that cradle a knife the way a mother would cradle a child. she doesn’t look at what she cuts, but she chops and slices and it’s all automatic – trained response? – and if carmen were to take a ruler and inspect the pieces, he’d be impressed to find that most are even and none are crooked. he’d hum, then, skim through the folders of his mind to re-check her experience, re-check the college she went to. he’d say something like, “good work, chef,” and maybe she’d smile at the bare bones of the compliment he’d given her, and when he’d be alone in his dingy office he’d pull out her resume and examine it with more interest because he’d be too embarrassed to ask.

he’ll grow familiar with those hands, with the dips and curves of knuckles and the tiger stripes of scars running down their expanse; he’ll grow familiar with the touch, too, soft despite the callouses, but only to him. not yet, though, not for another few months till a completely expected storm will halt the trains and he’ll have to drive her home. it’ll be weeks after that awkward silence in the car and stolen glances at soaked t-shirt-clad skin.

her form is unfamiliar to him – he hadn’t any interest to look, nor would he find anything curious when all is covered in oversized fabric and a blue apron. at present, she’s his colleague, nothing more, and a young one at that, too young and too talented to be stuck in such a place and with him running it.

but he will look. sooner than expected, and not for any devout reason, unless loneliness can be considered holy.

he’ll feel bad about it, too, and he’ll feel worse when everything escalates, because it always does.

for now, he cooks by the open flame, letting hot oil sizzle on his hands and the fire lick his fingers, and maybe, just maybe, he likes the pain because he knows nothing else. it’s become empirical to him. an indication that he’s still alive. that he’s still in control of something, even if he isn’t.

richie, richie, good fucking god, richie always picks the worst moments to bitch about.

“are you fucking with me?” carmen’s voice, again, a bit higher this time and just a gruff. doe eyes narrow at the bell-tower named richard jerimovich that has the audacity to look clueless, “do not fucking fuck with me right now.”

richie: shove that stick outta [fuck you] your ass, cousin carmen: are you deaf? richie: boutta go deaf if you keep yapping [don’t got time for this]; listen, i just [you just?] came to talk [talk? now? talk?] yes, to talk, look carmen: now you wanna talk? now? you wanna [jesus] fucking talk right now?

the tension in the air is sharp enough to slice through skin. everyone pointedly pretends not to hear this conversation. carmen doesn’t want to hear this conversation, either. there’s a line of people waiting. he reminds richie of that, and richie reminds that oh, he knows, and –

“richie!” it’s sydney, cheeks glowing with sweat and bandana crooked, “not now.”

richie huffs, looks at carmen with a certain exasperation, a wordless question of ‘really? really? you’re letting her run the show, now?’, and carmen needn’t be a genius to know that richie’s gonna bring this up later. he’ll never hear the end of it, he scarcely does now. it’s a headache in the making. his heart skips, or maybe stops, and for a moment he feels white-hot panic shoot through his veins. it passes with a shiver he doesn’t show. he breathes just a tad quicker – not enough air, not enough fucking air, jesus.

richie retreats with his arms raised in surrender, amused and annoyed simultaneously. a quiet follows his departure, and carmen looks at the staff, gaze jumping from one to the other before settling on her. she’s unperturbed by the chaos, working, watching, assessing, and later he’ll learn she wears that face the same way he wears his anger – as armor.

eyes meet and there’s a certain understanding that glimmers in the depths of her iris. but what could she understand? three weeks from now, he’ll come to learn that she’s used to rough edges and loud voices: he’ll learn that she’s the daughter of the chef that made his life hell back in new york, he’ll learn that she took up cooking because she wanted to appease her father, he’ll learn that her parents have split and her mother is sick and that she’s not calm but disconnected and that she tends to live in her head just like him.

but he doesn’t know that now, so he blames the shitty lighting that blinks and buzzes and, “fak, for the love of fucking god, please fix it.”

he said please this time, and it means he’s cooling off. he thankfully misses the quick look the staff shares – a mixture of relief and pity. either would have been devastating to recognize.

the only upside is that the day goes by fast. too much to do, too much to stress about, and carmen’s used to running on nothing but nicotine and adrenaline and an odd spout of desolation, and he manages everything, keeps the pieces glued together until eventually everything becomes too much and then he crumbles. still picks them up gently, like handling broken glass. he visits the storage often. closes the door for a moment and just lets himself breathe, reminds himself how to. doesn’t calm, only collects, reigns in the anger that coats loneliness. don’t think about mikey.

the staff cleans in a similar silence that douses after a storm.

the night's clear, crisp air compounded with cigarette smoke. he leans on the wall of the restaurant, staring into space, listening to the white noise of a restless city. by now, sydney has flipped the CLOSED sign; by now, his new hire is probably thinking about quitting, elbows deep in cleaning detergent as she scrubs the floor. he’ll have to go over her work and double-check. just in case there’s something more to do for hands that are always restless.

he tries to think but his head is scrambled. too many thoughts rushing in and out, loud, obnoxious, too quick to leave a lasting impact. he’s tired. he’s always tired. he wants lay on his bed and let sleep swallow him whole, but he knows that won’t happen. if he sleeps, he dreams of new york, he dreams of fire, he dreams of voices coming from the other room. one, in particular, holds a familiar rasp and drawl, punctuated by laugher, weaving a tale and stop it, don’t think about it anymore, just stop it, don’t think about –

he tosses the cigarette, watching the embers burn.

don’t think about mikey.

he enters through the back exit, stalks through the restaurant like he's haunting the place. briefly stops to stare at the mirror behind the bar. doesn't really recognize the man staring back.

the clock reads 00:30 am.

marcus was the last to leave, or so carmen assumed by the silence that shrouds the place, but as he makes his way to his office, he hears a locker shutting, and the sound rattles him so much his heart beats in his throat. all of that previous exhaustion ignites into anxiety that makes his limbs lock up.

she halts by the mouth of the kitchen, hair matted from sweat and lower lip marked where her teeth sunk, drooped eyes widening a fraction as she regards him. he can only stare at her in return, at her messy hair and pinched eyebrows and the slight downward curl of her lips.

“you could use a coffee,” she utters, and her voice is jarring – not for any unpleasant reason, but for the fact that he didn’t expect to hear it. he’ll grow to like it, crave it, even, because it’s a lovely cadence and it’ll sound even lovelier when she says his name.

he’s frightened by it now, if one can be scared of such a thing. so he bites.

“it’s almost 1 am.”

“right,” she mutters dryly.

“why are you still here?” he questions, and it almost sounds like an accusation, because he thought he was alone, only to suddenly be proved wrong. feels like an invasion of privacy, to be fucking honest, “your shift ended like an hour ago.”

“oh, I, uh, had some things to finish, so…” she trails off, but she still looks at him, and it’s unnerving, really, how she doesn’t budge under the weight of his stare. he bends under hers, though; the floor is spotless, he has nothing left to do. he misses the visible tension in her face, misses the quick swipe of her tongue on her lower lip as she opens and closes her mouth. it’ll take two whole weeks to grow entranced by the sight. misses the polite smile, too, but hears it in her voice anyway, “night.”

her sneakers squeak and echo and the door shuts. silence settles heavy on his shoulders. he’s not sure if he’s more distraught by her sudden appearance or abrupt departure. both somehow feel bad. in less than half a year, he’ll come to realize that the latter is worse.

ch.2: thank you, love you

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 6.9k

Part 17/17

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt @dedicated2viktor (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)

“You have me. Until every last star in the galaxy dies. You have me.” - Amie Kaufman

Masterlist

Burning and shredding, you felt yourself being torn apart and remade, your mind split and shattered only to be pieced back together again.

You were everywhere and everywhen at once. Threads, intersecting and glimmering spread out before you, like a hundred violins smashed together, strings overlapping as they cried a haunting tune. Your hand reached out, brushing against the gossamer strands, and visions unlike any other flooded your mind.

You stood atop the ruins of Piltover, your hand intertwined with Viktor's. His mask was gone, revealing a face covered in glowing Hextech augmentations. You wore a crown of twisted metal and crackling energy, your eyes ablaze with power. The city below was a spectacle of gleaming chrome and pulsing light, every citizen augmented and connected to a vast network. You had remade the world in Viktor’s image, free from the tyranny of emotion and human frailty. But as you looked upon your perfect creation, a hollowness echoed within your chest where your heart used to be.

Another thread pulled you in, and you were beset by rage and grief. Piltover burned around you, great plumes of smoke rising into the blood-red sky. Your magic, fueled by anguish, tore through the city like a hurricane. Buildings crumbled, bridges collapsed, and the screams of the dying filled the air. You kneeled at the epicentre of the destruction, tears streaming down your ash-covered face as you cradled Viktor's broken body. Sobs heaved from your chest, strings of spit strung between your teeth as you cried, open-mouthed and feral. He had died trying to stop you, and in your madness, you had struck him down. As the last remnants of the city fell, you realized too late the cost of your vengeance.

Tossed again like a doll held by a rambunctious little girl, you were thrown into a jarringly different scene. Piltover was saved, but at a terrible price. You stood before a cheering crowd, hailed as part of the city's saviours. Jayce stood beside you, his face grim but grateful. But Viktor was gone. You had stopped his plan, prevented the destruction he would have wrought, but in doing so, you had lost him forever. As the crowd's adulation washed over you, you felt nothing but a numbing emptiness, a black hole in your chest that sucked in everything that made you, you.

You pulled back, gasping, overwhelmed by the intensity of the visions. But they kept coming, each one more vivid than the last.

In one, you and Viktor worked together, using your combined powers to heal the rift between Piltover and Zaun. You saw yourself mediating disputes, your empathy tempering Viktor's logic, your magic able to give him his emotions back and keep him level. The two cities flourished, technology and humanity in perfect balance. But the constant struggle wore on you both, and you saw the light in Viktor's eyes dim with each passing year, slowly becoming more machine than human, going too far for even your magic to reach.

Another showed you alone, wandering the world as an immortal being of pure magic. You had absorbed so much power that your human form had burned away entirely. Centuries passed in the blink of an eye as you drifted, searching for meaning, for connection, for anything to fill the Viktor-shaped void in your heart.

Thread after thread, timeline after timeline unfolded before you - for that was what they were, all possible futures. In some, you ruled. In others, you destroyed. In a few, you saved the world. But in none of them did you truly have Viktor - the man you loved, whole and happy and by your side.

Ethereal and serene as freshly fallen snow, Soraka's voice echoed through the swirling chaos of timelines, gentle yet insistent. "You must choose a path," she urged.

You hadn’t expected to hear her again, and though you couldn’t see her through the haze of the shimmering strands, you found an odd comfort that she was there with you, at the end. She had made this all possible in the first place, hadn’t she? It seemed only fitting.

But you had suffered enough and you refused to accept a future without Viktor, without the love and happiness you both deserved. With grim determination, you reached out, not to grasp a single thread, but to gather them all in your hands. The timelines thrummed with power, vibrating against your skin like living things.

"I will make my own path," you declared, your voice resonating with newfound purpose and the lost dreams of those who should have lived to see them come to fruition. "I'll carve it from the bedrock and brimstone if I have to."

The how was yet to make itself clear, but you could feel the immense power that ran through the threads, magic calling to magic, begging to be used.

Soraka appeared by your side, but she was no longer the same as when you last saw her. Her once violet skin and warrior's attire had been replaced with an otherworldly form, one that radiated with divine power - one that befitted a goddess.

Her skin, pale as the morning sky, glowed with soft moonlight from within. Robes of the finest silks in shades of gold, azure, and white adorned her slender frame, her large sleeves giving her a royal air. A horn crafted from emerald stone sat atop her forehead, framed by an ornate crown and the soft tresses of pure white hair. Her gown cascaded down to cover her legs, the skirt shimmering as though it was made of gently flowing water.

Her eyes, filled with infinite compassion, met yours. "You walk a dangerous path, little one," she said softly. "But I cannot deny the strength of your love."

A single tear rolled down her cheek, glowing with celestial light. As it fell, she caught it, holding it out to you. "You will need this," she said, her voice tinged with both sorrow and hope. "A fragment of divine essence, freely given. May it provide the last piece that you require."

You took the tear, feeling its warmth pulse against your palm. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice thick and trembling.

Soraka smiled. "Good luck," she said simply, before fading away, leaving you alone with your monumental task.

You clutched the threads and the tear, feeling their power buzzing against your skin like a heartbeat. With a deep breath, you closed your eyes and let yourself fall into the cosmic tapestry.

The threads wrapped around you, a story of infinite possibilities. Soraka's tear dissolved, seeping into your soul. Power surged through you, raw and primal. It was like swallowing a star, your body incandescent with energy.

You were the eye of a hurricane, the calm center as madness swirled around you. Memories and futures crashed together like tectonic plates, grinding and reshaping reality. Your mind expanded, consciousness stretching across time and space.

You were the stars, the inky vast expanse of nothingness that cradled them in its hands. You were the sun, the moon, the wishes that children made when light streaked across the sky. Your hair blended with the cosmos, your eyes alight with their eternal shine. Hope and love and dreams made real. 

This was what you were meant to be; a bringer of comfort, a being of protection. 

Colours you'd never seen before painted your vision. Sounds beyond human comprehension filled your ears. You tasted stardust and felt the birth of galaxies in your bones.

Souls burned like small golden balls of flame all around you. Everywhere you looked you saw them, drifting, floating, winking out as others took their space. Your teeth rattled with their rage, their terror, your lips tingling with their joy and love and laughter. Curiosity plucked at your ribs, grief squeezed at your heart. It was chaos and confusion, a little boy lost in a bustling city, crying for his father, a young woman navigating her new school campus, afraid of being away from home for the first time in her life. It was the warmth of putting one’s feet up by the fire after a long day out in the snow, a cat curling up in their owner's lap, digging their nails into soft flesh as they purred their satisfaction - even as it hurt. 

It was everything, and by the gods it was beautiful. 

Like floating down a trickling stream, you turned, seeking, searching, reaching out with the love that tangled like vines around your heart, grown into the steady beat until it became one. 

And the flow of your love was met with its reflection, the love that was given so freely to you - once lost, but found again. You would have sobbed your relief, made rivers form from mountains as you eroded the weathered rock with your salty tears, but contentment took its place. 

Swooping towards the pull of your mirrored heart like a bird fluttering in a gentle breeze, you came upon the ethereal golden glow of the two souls that belonged to those you held dear. 

“—must go, Jayce, and take Milá with you.” The unmistakable accent of Viktor’s voice floated through the stars, through your fingers and up to your ears. 

“We finish this together, and you know she would never abandon you either.” Jayce, firm in his conviction, his soul pulsing with the strength of his belief. 

You chuckled, the sound reverberating through the emptiness as the souls turned their attention to you. As swift as the wind at the front of a storm head, you closed the remaining distance, and blinked, the souls glowing softly in one moment, and in the next, floated the two men on the precipice of ending this war. 

Jayce, with his flowing locks and scruffy beard, watched you with awe in his dark eyes.

And Viktor, your lovely, sweet Viktor, looking just as you remembered before the changes - his hair shining a startling white, but beneath you knew the waves of chestnut remained - reached towards you, hand outstretched and curious. But you were much too large, your form stretched across the night sky, and his palm took up no more space than a freckle upon your cheek. Still, you leaned into his touch, into the soft curves of his fingers, his calluses.

“Milácku,” he whispered with reverence, eyes wide and lips parted.

“He’s right,” you said, your voice falling over them like a rain. “I’m not going anywhere. You do your work, and I’ll do mine. Deal?” 

“A team, like always,” Jayce agreed, holding his hand out for Viktor, arcane stone in his palm. 

There was nothing left for you to say, and as Viktor reached for his partner, you stretched and grew until they sat in the palm of your hands, glowing souls that collided in a blinding array of sparks. 

You wove your magic around them, a shimmering cocoon of starlight and dreams made real. As they burned brighter, you felt their souls pulsing with power, their essences intertwining. Your cosmic fingers gently cradled them, keeping them safe as the energy built to a new height.

You watched, breathless, as streams of magic curled around Viktor and Jayce, binding them together in a dance of light and shadow. Their forms blurred, becoming indistinct as they merged with the arcane energy.

Colours exploded outward, each hue carrying a memory, an emotion. You saw flashes of their shared past - late nights in the lab, heated arguments that turned to laughter, quiet moments of understanding. Love, frustration, hope, and determination. It was all there, and it was stunning.

The light grew blinding, forcing you to squint even with your cosmic eyes. You felt the surge building and your heart raced, a staccato rhythm that echoed through the vastness of space.

With a soundless roar, Viktor and Jayce's combined energy erupted. The force of it threatened to tear reality apart, to scatter their souls. But you were ready.

You tightened your web of magic, wrapping it around them like a net. The threads of your power, woven from galaxies and divine tears, held firm. You poured every ounce of your love, your hope, your unwavering belief in them into that protective barrier.

When the explosion finally subsided, you were left holding two softly glowing orbs - Viktor and Jayce's souls, preserved and protected, shining with the same light blue hue as your magic.

Tears of relief and joy streamed down your cheeks, each droplet a newborn star. You had done it. They were safe, plucked from the edge of extinction and held in your palms like the most precious of pearls. 

You breathed deeply, your inhale rippling across reality like a stone cast into still waters. You needed somewhere to go, somewhere where you could all finally get the rest you were owed.

"Go forth my child,” Soraka had whispered to you as you’d fallen through the void for the first time. “Like a blazing comet streaking through the darkened sky. Your mission is clear: to mend their broken bodies and souls, to rescue them from certain death. You hold the key to their salvation, the only hope for a future free from destruction."

You had thought you’d failed, had allowed death and destruction to reign, but perhaps you’d been looking at it wrong. Death would happen no matter what you did, it was the cycle of life. But after life…nothing but oblivion. That was, until you.

With a gentle exhale, you willed a new reality into existence, fuelled by your magic. The cosmos shimmered and parted like a curtain, revealing a realm of breathtaking beauty. Rolling hills of soft, luminescent grass stretched as far as the eye could see, each blade swaying in a breeze that carried the whispers of a thousand lifetimes. The sky above was an ever-changing background of colours, auroras dancing in mesmerizing patterns.

Crystal-clear streams meandered through the landscape, their waters gleaming with memories of joy and laughter. Trees with silver bark and leaves of spun starlight dotted the hills, their branches reaching towards the heavens - though, you supposed, this was as close to heaven as one could get. Beneath their canopies, shimmering flowers bloomed, each petal a fragment of a cherished moment.

You felt a stirring in your chest. The three souls you had gathered - the warmth of a friend, the love of a father, and the curiosity of a child - began to float towards this new paradise. They drifted from your heart like dandelion seeds on the wind, each carrying a piece of your essence with them. They would be the first to enjoy the afterlife you had created, but they would not be the last.

Opening your hands, you freed both Jayce and Viktor from your pull, letting them fall like leaves in autumn towards the haven that awaited them. It would all be over soon, you could rest, be free from pain and suffering at long last, and—

Viktor’s soul remained unmoving, his brilliant light dim and pulsing, the taste of rain on a gloomy day hitting the back of your tongue. You returned your hands to holding him, but where he’d once felt like determination and fear, he now felt like the screaming anguish of someone who’d lost everything at their own hands. And with all your power, the magic that flowed over and through you like a dying star given rebirth, you couldn’t cure his self-blame. But you were still you, even made of starlight and the memories of millions, and perhaps, that was what Viktor needed most; not the goddess, but simply you, his miláčku. 

You inhaled, deep and expansive, your lungs filling with the nothingness around you, and when you exhaled, you released pieces of yourself into the galaxy, shrinking down until you’d returned to your human height. Were you still human? 

Existential questions could wait, what was most important was Viktor, his soul, tinged in your protective blue glue, floating before you. With a wave of your hand, you returned his form back to him, channeling your magic. He could communicate - you think - in his soul-form, but whether he knew how, or could express as much was not clear. 

He was exactly how you remembered him on the day of the council explosion; his hair swept back and curled around his ears, devoid of any metal, thin, but entirely himself. The only difference being the press of guilt sitting heavy on his shoulders, curling them in, and the dullness of his once brilliant eyes. 

Without thinking, you reached for him, hand outstretched, needing to feel him, to know he was real. But you came to an abrupt stop when he flinched, not meeting your gaze, head hung. 

Silence stretched between you, the distance becoming a gaping canyon. You wanted to hold him, to offer him comforting words, but not before he was ready. 

And maybe your own anger over your own loss had you hesitating to try. 

“They’re gone, aren’t they?” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, your form of starlight and the darkness of space shimmering at the edges. 

You didn’t need to confirm it, he already knew, had felt their souls disintegrate when he took over their bodies. 

He sucked his teeth, shaking his head. “They came to me for healing, they were vulnerable and desperate and I-I used them,” he spat. “I burned their souls out of their bodies and they are lost forever because of me.”

“Viktor—“ you started, but he was quick to cut you off. 

“I do not deserve what you have made,” he turned towards the space you’d carved out of nothing, where you’d laid the foundations for something better than non-existence. “It…radiates goodness and purity, I cannot go there.”

It was simple to keep your face carefully blank when it wasn’t a face at all, and merely a collection of constellations. “Sulking out here won’t bring them back.”

His head turned to you with a sharp twist of his neck, incredulous disbelief in the curve of his brows. “How do you not despise me? Charlotte, you loved her, and I destroyed her.”

Your chest bloomed with a swirl of blue and violet stars, your grief laid bare. “Yes, you did,” your voice wavered, “I…am angry and hurt but it’s not directly solely at you - there were many factors that led to Charlotte’s death and the destruction of her soul. I blame myself too, I blame Piltover and their lack of care for the citizens of Zaun, I blame Jayce for killing that last piece of your humanity you had left, and yes, I blame you, though it is unfair to say there were no other circumstances that led to this ending. Your mind was corrupted, and I do have some experience with what that’s like. With time, I will heal, but you will have to exist with that guilt forever. There is nothing you can do, no one left to pardon you.” 

It was harsh, but honest, and you did not have the energy to shield the truth from him, nor did you believe it would help. Still, the agonized grimace that twisted his lips, the tears gathering in his eyes, had your limbs tingling with the need to hold him tight, to soothe your hand down his hair and tell him everything would be okay.

“I don’t want that.” He pulled back his upper lip in a sneer, his teeth clenched. 

“Too bad,” you shot back. “You don’t get to shy away from the things you’ve done, to drift off into nothingness because it would be easier than facing it. I have never known you to be such a coward.” He flinched again and you stopped yourself, your hands clenched into fists. Taking out your anger and grief on him while he was already in such a vulnerable state would not benefit anyone.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled the stars. “Viktor, I…do you remember what I said to you on top of the Hexgate?”

His eyes swam with sorrow, deep pools of molten gold. “Every word,” he whispered like a promise. 

Your heart ached to see him like this, a shell of his former self. “We all played a part in this; if I hadn’t used the Hexcore to heal you, none of this would have happened. If we had died when we were supposed to, maybe we could have saved a lot of people from suffering. But there are too many ifs and buts and frankly, I don’t care enough to catalogue them all, nor would it change anything. I meant what I said, that I don’t regret a second of our time together, even through it all. I can’t bring myself to wish I could change it.”

Viktor’s eyes darted between yours as though he was searching for your sanity and could find no traces. “You absorbed thirty Gemstones, surely you have lost your mind and you do not truly mean that.”

You giggled, unable to hold yourself back. “It was closer to forty, but I think I’ve always been a little crazy when it comes to you.”

Seeing that he wasn’t going to persuade you to leave him to rot with those tactics, he changed his approach. “Milá, you made an afterlife, such a feat…it boggles the mind. You are…” he sighed, heavy and tired, affection swirling with the sorrow in his eyes. “You are a goddess, radiant and powerful and the most magnificent being in all of creation. And I…what good have I done?”

The answer was simple, it came to your tongue like breath to your lungs. “You loved me, for starters, and without you I never would have made it this far.” 

He opened his mouth to argue, but you held up a hand. “Wait, I’m not finished.” And when he reluctantly crossed his arms over his chest, you continued, “You were a kind and loving friend, you taught others the value of science and how to apply it which I’m sure will lead to all sorts of wonderful advances. You made me laugh when no one else could, and even though you hurt them in the end, you healed so many, provided them relief for the first times in many of their lives. But your value isn’t only what you can provide to others. You fought for yourself, for your right to live. You pursued goals others could only dream of, and you did what you had to survive. You couldn’t have known how it would end, neither of us did, not fully.”

He twisted his lips, his shoulders tightening, unable to meet your gaze. “I essentially killed you—“

“And I essentially killed you,” you countered, watching as his mouth opened and shut in rapid succession as he failed to come up with a rebuttal. 

“If you had never met me, you would still be alive,” he managed at last. 

You smiled then, sad and gentle. “Not without you, not in any ways that matter.”

His eyes widened, jaw slack in disbelief. Silence settled between you once more, but this time, you felt peace. The anger was still there, your grief simmering beneath the surface. Charlotte had been…like a mother, in the short time you’d known her. Losing her so completely had torn your heart in two. But you would have time to sort through that pain, right now, Viktor needed to get to a place where he could begin mending. You’d both been through enough, you deserved a happy ending. 

“I-I used a whole commune, I tore out their souls.”

“You did,” you floated forwards, stopping when he pulled back. “And that does not change how much I love you.”

Panic, fleeting and sharp crossed his angular face. “I aligned with a military, invasive force that killed hundreds.”

“And I love you,” you countered, moving closer again, only a few feet between you.

“I was going to subjugate the entire world, to remove their ability to choose in the pursuit of perfection!” His voice had raised an octave, but he no longer pulled away when you continued to float closer. 

“And I love you.” A few inches now, and you stopped, hand raised to cup his cheek in your stardust palm.

“But I…” his breath came in sharp pants, tears shining in his red-rimmed eyes. “I hurt you.”

“Sometimes we hurt the ones we love, but love isn’t about never making mistakes, it’s about how we handle them when they happen. Even the big ones.” Charlotte’s words of wisdom floated from you with ease. You tilted your head, running your fingers through his hair and watching with rapt attention as he shivered. “Viktor, I have loved you through life and death and rebirth. I will love you for eternity. So please, let yourself be loved.”

Like the breaking of a dam, Viktor crumbled. He fell into your arms, his body colliding with yours, two celestial bodies drawn together by gravity. You enveloped him, your cosmic form moulding around his. He curled into you, face buried against your chest as he wept. You held him tight, one hand cradling the back of his head while the other traced soothing patterns along his spine.

As you comforted him, comets streaked from your eyes instead of tears. They blazed brilliant trails across the inky void, each one carrying a fragment of your shared grief. The comets sailed past distant nebulae and newborn stars, their fiery tails painting the darkness with your sorrow.

Viktor's fingers dug into your shoulders, clinging to you as if you were the only solid thing in a universe gone mad. His tears soaked into your starlight skin, creating ripples of iridescent colour that spread outward like rings in a pond. You felt every shuddering breath, every choked sob as if they were your own.

Time lost all meaning as you floated there, two souls intertwined amidst the nothingness of space. Galaxies spun lazily around you, their spiralling arms seeming to cradle you like those of a loving parent.

Ever so slowly, his sobs began to subside. His grip on you loosened, though he made no move to pull away. You felt the tension gradually leave his body as exhaustion took hold. His breathing evened out, punctuated only by the occasional hiccup or sniffle.

You continued to hold him, one hand stroking his hair while murmuring soft words of love. The comets falling from your eyes grew fewer and farther between, until at last they ceased altogether. A sense of peace settled over you both, as delicate as spun sugar but no less real for its fragility.

“I want to take you home,” you whispered into the shell of his ear - though home had always been anywhere with him.

Viktor slowly pulled back, his amber eyes rimmed with red but no longer overflowing with tears. He gazed at you, wonder and hesitation warring on his face. You cupped his cheek, your celestial flesh warm against his skin.

"I would like that," he whispered, barely audible even in the vast silence of space.

Relief flooded through you, setting off a cascade of shooting stars across your form. You took his hand, intertwining your fingers, and gently tugged him towards the paradise you'd created. As you descended, the universe seemed to contract around you. Stars rushed past in streaks of light, galaxies blurred into swirls of colour.

Your feet touched down on soft grass that glowed with a gentle inner light. The blades bent beneath your weight, releasing a sweet scent that reminded you of summer evenings and childhood laughter. Viktor stumbled slightly as he landed, unused to having a physical form again. You steadied him, your hand on his shoulder.

For a moment, you both stood still, taking in the breathtaking beauty of your creation. The ever-changing sky painted everything in soft, ethereal hues. A warm breeze caressed your skin, carrying whispers of joy and contentment.

You closed your eyes, focusing inward. Your cosmic form buzzed with energy, too vast and powerful to be contained in a human shape. Slowly, you began to compress that power, folding it inward like origami. Stars collapsed into neutron-dense points within your chest. Galaxies spiraled down into the marrow of your bones. The vast emptiness between celestial bodies became the spaces between your atoms.

It was an odd sensation, like trying to pour an ocean into a teacup. Your skin tingled and stretched as it struggled to contain your new nature. You felt simultaneously infinite and impossibly small. Memories of countless lives flickered through your mind - births and deaths, triumphs and failures, love and loss - before settling into the background hum of your subconscious.

When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself standing on solid ground, in a form that was both familiar and strange. Your hair floated around you as if suspended in water, each strand containing a glimmering nebula. Your skin shimmered, constellations mapping themselves across your body in ever-shifting patterns. When you breathed, stardust escaped your lips in glittering clouds. And as always - your constant companions - the blue balls of light that belonged to your sparks floated lazily around you.

You turned to Viktor, but before you could take in his wide-eyed expression, a blur of motion caught your eye. Without warning, someone launched themselves at you with a delighted squeal, wrapping you in a tight hug, arms around your neck. The sudden impact sent you staggering back a step, your body rippling with surprise.

For a moment, confusion reigned. Your mind, still adjusting to its new vastness, struggled to process this unexpected development. But familiar sensations washed over you - the tickle of dark curls against your cheek, the scent of sunlight and tender friendship that could only belong to one person.

"Sky," you breathed, your voice cracking around the syllable of her name.

As if your recognition had unlocked something within you, your legs gave out, and you sank to the luminescent grass. She went down with you, refusing to let go even for a moment.

Sobs pulled from your chest in painful tears, your body shaking and weak. Sky held you through it all, her small frame surprisingly strong. Her hands rubbed soothing circles on your back, leaving trails of warmth that felt like home.

"I've got you," she murmured, her voice thick with her own tears. "I've got you, and I'm never letting go again."

How had you not recognized her soul when it had sat so snuggly in your chest?

You clung to her, your fingers digging into the fabric of her sundress as if she might disappear if you loosened your grip even slightly. Flowers sprouted and bloomed around you in a rapid cycle, their petals opening and closing like a visual representation of your racing heartbeat.

You cried for everything you'd lost, for the agony you'd endured, for the impossible choices you'd been forced to make. But you also cried with relief and joy at this unexpected reunion, at the miracle of having your dearest friend back in your arms.

Gradually, your sobs subsided, replaced by hiccupping breaths and the occasional sniffle. You pulled back slightly, just enough to look at Sky's face. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, but her smile was as bright and warm as ever. Her eyes, filled with love and understanding, met yours without flinching from your new, otherworldly appearance.

“The whole time,” you whispered, your bottom lip quivering. “You were with me the whole time.”

“You kept me safe. Even when I didn’t know that I was, well, me, you held my soul until I could come back to myself.” She laughed, breathy and tear-strained. “You are amazing, Milá. I can’t wait to hear about everything I missed.”

You laughed through your tears, the sound tinkling like broken glass. "I've missed you so much."

A gentle cough drew your attention. Viktor stood awkwardly nearby, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His eyes darted between you and Sky, a mix of emotions playing across his face - relief, guilt, uncertainty. Gone was the glowing blue aura of your magic. He was simply Viktor, no Hexcore metal, no sickness lingering in his lungs, cane held lightly over his forearm.

Sky noticed him too. Her grip on you loosened slightly as she turned to face him. For a moment, tension crackled in the air like static electricity.

Then Sky smiled, warm and welcoming. "Hello, Viktor. It's good to see you again."

Viktor's eyes widened in surprise. He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. "I…I'm sorry, Sky. For everything."

Sky's expression softened. "I know. And I don’t blame you."

Those simple words seemed to lift a great weight from Viktor's shoulders. He sagged visibly, exhaling a shaky breath.

Pushing yourself up to stand, you took Viktor’s hand in yours. His skin was plush and warm beneath your touch, and his fingers intertwined with yours as he gave you a small smile.

As you drank in the sight of him whole and unburdened, movement over his shoulder caught your eye. In the distance, beneath the boughs of a tree with silver bark and twinkling leaves, stood a figure you had only ever seen in your dreams. Vander, his face creased in a gentle smile, knelt beside a little girl, dyed blue hair lovingly tied back in twin braids. Isha, you realized with a start, her round features lit by the soft glow emanating from the grass beneath her feet.

Vander placed a comforting hand on Isha's shoulder, and you watched as she smiled shyly up at him. The sight tugged at your heart, a bittersweet ache of recognition flooding through you. These were the other two souls you'd carried with you, nestled safely within you until you could bring them to this place of peace.

Your moment of reflection was interrupted by a familiar voice calling out. "Hey! Wait for me!"

You looked up to see Jayce jogging towards you, his gait slightly uneven but determined. He was cleaned up, his beard neatly trimmed and his hair combed back. The only evidence of his past ordeals was the leg brace he still wore.

Jayce slowed as he approached, a sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry I'm late. Got a bit turned around in this place." His eyes widened as he took in your new look. "Wow, Mila. You look…different."

You couldn't help but laugh, genuine and relieved to see him in one piece - and back to himself. "It's been quite a journey."

Jayce nodded, his lips pursing. "I can imagine." He turned to Viktor, extending his hand. "Partner. It's good to see you back to yourself again without the imminent threat of arcane destruction."

Viktor hesitated for a moment before clasping Jayce's hand. "And you, Jayce. We have much to discuss after…all that.”

“We do,” Jayce agreed, “but I’d like a minute just to, uh, process it, if that’s alright with you.”

Viktor inclined his head. “Of course.”

"So," Sky said, antsy as the tension pulled taut between the two men. She turned to you. "What's it like being a goddess?"

You chuckled, grateful for the distraction to take the pressure off of Jayce and Viktor. They had plenty of time to work through their issues, jumping in right away would only lead to further strife. You’d all had more than your fair share of that. "Overwhelming. Beautiful. Terrifying." You paused, considering. "I'm not sure I'd call myself a goddess, exactly. More like…a cosmic caretaker?"

Viktor's hand tightened in yours. "You created an afterlife," he pointed out, awe colouring his tone. "If that's not goddess-like, I do not know what is."

You leaned into him, savouring his warmth. How close you’d come to losing him…you didn’t want to think about it. "I couldn't have done it without you. Any of you. Your love, your friendship, it gave me the strength to reshape reality. Thank you."

Sky beamed at you, her eyes sparkling. "Well, I for one think you've done a wonderful job. This place is beautiful."

As if in response to her words, the sky above you erupted in bright aurora-like waves of light that danced across the heavens.

"It's incredible," Viktor breathed. He turned to you, a hint of his old curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "How does it work?”

"I'm not entirely sure yet," you admitted. "It's all still so new. But I think…" You paused, reaching out with your newfound senses.

The realm pulsed around you, alive in ways you were only beginning to understand. You could feel the ebb and flow of energy, the intricate webs of connection between all things. It was gorgeous and frightening, like holding a living star in your hands.

"I think it's responsive," you said slowly, "to emotions, needs, and desires. It's not just a static place, but something that can grow and change."

As if to demonstrate your point, a cluster of flowers suddenly bloomed at Viktor’s feet. Their petals were translucent, catching the light in rainbow hues.

"Fascinating," Viktor muttered to himself, releasing your hand to kneel and examine the flowers more closely. "The potential significance is staggering. An infinitely adaptable environment, capable of providing for any need."

Even in the face of the miraculous, Viktor's scientific mind never stopped working.

"Well," Jayce said, clapping his hands together, "as amazing as all this is, I don't know about the rest of you, but I could use a drink and a very long nap."

Sky laughed, her dress swishing in the breeze. "I second that motion."

You looked around at the faces of those you loved most - Sky's bright smile, Jayce's easy grin, Viktor's intense gaze softened by wonder. For the first time in what felt like eons, you felt truly at peace.

"I think I can arrange that," you said with a wink, and with a wave of your hand, a cozy-looking cottage shimmered into existence nearby. It was nothing fancy - just a simple structure with a thatched roof and climbing roses around the door. But it radiated warmth and safety.

"Shall we?" you asked, gesturing towards the cottage.

As your little group made their way towards the house, Viktor began to trail behind. You matched his pace, watching as Jayce and Sky chatted animatedly ahead.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked softly. "About me?"

You linked your arm in his, resting your head on his shoulder. "More sure than I've ever been about anything," you replied. "We've been through hell and back, Viktor. We deserve some happiness together without the threat of death looming over us. You know, since we’re already dead."

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. As you walked, you noticed the grass beneath his feet sprouting tiny blue flowers - forget-me-nots. Had that been your doing or his? Either way, you couldn’t imagine forgetting even a second of your time with him.

Sky and Jayce entered the cottage, their laughter drifting back to you on the gentle breeze. As they disappeared inside, you pulled Viktor to a stop, your fingers curling around his wrist.

"Viktor, I…" The words caught in your throat, a supernova of emotion ready to burst from your chest. You bit your lip. How could mere language possibly encompass the depth of what you felt?

To hell with words, you thought. I'll show him instead.

You pulled Viktor close, your hands cupping his face as you pressed your lips to his in a searing kiss. The contact sent shockwaves through you, ripples of energy cascading across your skin like the surface of a disturbed pond. Viktor stiffened for a moment, surprised, before melting into your kiss.

The grass beneath your feet erupted in a riot of wildflowers, their petals unfurling in rapid time-lapse. The sky above blazed with shooting stars and you tasted stardust on Viktor's lips, felt the heat of a thousand suns in the press of his body against yours.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, you found that your feet were no longer touching the ground. You and Viktor floated several inches above the flower-strewn grass, held by your magic as it glowed around you.

A smile tugged at his lips, boyish and carefree in a way you hadn’t seen in years.

"I love you," you whispered. "We made it, Viktor. We're here, together. Our friends are safe, and when the rest are ready, they will have a place here too."

In response, Viktor pulled you close again, resting his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes, basking in his affection, in the simple miracle of his presence. The universe may have been vast and unknowable, but in that moment, your entire world was contained in the circle of Viktor's arms.

Lowering yourself, you made your way towards the cottage once more. Viktor entered first, but you paused at the doorway, looking back at the vast expanse of your creation. It felt surreal to be there, like a dream come true. In time, you’d figure out how to usher other souls to this place, to make it a true beacon of rest and safety. And maybe, just maybe, you could find the shards of Charlotte’s soul and piece her back together. Anything was possible when you had the power of infinite universes at your fingertips.

You stepped into the cottage, leaving the door open for Vander and Isha if they decided to make their way over, and were greeted by the smiling faces of your friends as they settled into the new space. Jayce, Sky, Viktor, and soon-to-be countless others are at your side. You knew in the depths of your never-ending soul, that this was where you were meant to be.

Epilogue

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A/N: I can't believe its over!! It's crazy to think that its been three years since I posted the first part, and the entire time in between I was thinking and brainstorming about how I wanted it to end, only for Arcane to give us such a beautiful ending I couldn't bring myself to change much of it. But now they get to all be happy together in the afterlife for eternity, no more fighting or pain, just getting to be together in all the ways that matter ❤️

Thank you x1000000 for coming on this journey with me, its been a blast!! I'd love to hear what you think, even if you're reading this months or years later, I'm always looking for more inspiration to write more!

I may at some point post a very short epilogue so let me know if you still have any questions and I will try to provide answers. (Jinx isn't here because I think she's still alive)

Love you all!!!!

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[treacheryinblue]

「 ON DISPLAY 」 noah sebastian ⨯ f!reader

▷ chapter two

noah is your neighbor and your new favorite view thanks to his lack of curtains. you're pretty sure he prefers it this way. but the man you've created in your imagination is nothing like reality and you soon find yourself falling prey to a past lifestyle you had been desperately on the run from. trigger warnings : language, eventual smut, violence, mention/flashbacks of abuse, alcohol and drug use, sexual harassment/assault (nongraphic). word count : 7.1k a / n : we're really setting the scene and the vibes with this one. more noah time will come in the next chapter, both in person and through the infamous window. do not fret.

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FLASHBACK - READER

“Why are you looking at her? Huh? You look at me.” 

The guttural tone of Vane’s voice that only reared its ugly head when he was angry made your skin crawl. It didn't matter that you were tucked away in his SUV because the response it coaxed from your body was nothing short of fearful. You had been on the receiving end of it many times before but not this time. No, this time it was one of his business friends, colleagues, whatever they were to be called. The man in question had been eying you from the open trunk of his own vehicle while showing the new merchandise to Vane. He obviously hadn’t been very subtle about it. This didn't stop your heart from racing nor did it prevent your palms from clamming up. You were still very much aware of what sort of hell Vane would rain down when pushed. 

“Why did you bring her along, Vane?” The man spoke through clenched teeth as if you were a threat. Between everyone currently present at this business exchange, you were the last one to worry about. You had no weapons. No phone. No way of tattling on any of these unsavory men even if you wanted to. Who would you tell anyway? The only person who had the means to protect you was your father and he was already in the know of your whereabouts. He and Vane had probably discussed it over a nice glass of bourbon earlier in the day. 

“Don't fucking question what I do. You got a problem? Just say so and we can handle it right here.” 

You heavily sighed at Vane’s overly dramatic show of dominance while leaning further back in the passenger seat. He was such a joke when he put in hours - always so over the top and a show off - and the one time you confessed this to him had landed you on the floor with a busted lip. Vodka made you mouthy and gave you a hefty set of balls apparently. That wasn't a mistake you made again. 

Vane may have been a son of a bitch but he was willing to act, typically before thinking. He didn't hesitate to reach for the gun tucked in the back of his pants, though he didn't pull it out. The shift of his arm was enough to set the man straight and return the conversation to what was important: Vane’s merchandise. 

“Pack this shit up,” he commanded after a few beats, his annoyance towards the man evident. The seller stammered over his words but Vane was quick to cut him off. “Stop your goddamn blabbering, Diego. I'm taking it but that look you stole of my girl is gonna cost you two grand off the price.” 

And there it was. The real reason why he dragged you along to these deals. Honestly, Vane wasn't very smart most of the time but he knew who he could shove around and who he needed to back down from. Diego was not the latter. Shit, you probably could've gone out there and gotten him to knock even more off the price just by flashing him a smile. You had no desire to get in the middle of Vane’s dealings, though, and he was also far too possessive to allow anyone beneath him to live if he caught them staring your way. He was a menace in a knock off suit. 

“Load it all up.” Vane further demanded while he was tossing his cigarette out and stomping his way back to the SUV you occupied. You forced a smile onto your face because you knew better than to let him see your true feelings towards all of this. Drugs. Weapons. All of it was a one way ticket to jail or possibly even the grave. Neither outcome was one you had any interest in living out. He made you an accomplice simply by having you witness the deals. Just another way to keep you under his thumb. 

As he slammed the car door, he immediately reached across the center console to roughly grab the back of your neck. Although the dig of his fingers was painful, you kept your expression neutral. His mouth was soon on yours, one hand squeezing your nape as the other firmly grasped your chin to keep you in his hold. Vane tasted like smoke and shitty beer – both of which you hated. Unfortunately, that didn't stop you from kissing him back. Not like you had any other choice. You really put on the performance of your life when you were with him. 

“I've got a good thing going here for you, baby,” he muttered against your swollen lips. “Don't fuck it up by getting that annoying self righteous look in your eyes.” 

Okay, maybe you weren't ready for your Oscar win just yet. 

PRESENT - NOAH

There was the lingering threat of cutting himself every time he fidgeted with his knife, the swift back and forth motion of opening and closing the blade making those around him nervous. That's what he enjoyed about it though – keeping people on edge. Noah couldn't even remember the last time he accidentally drew his own blood and the pain would be fleeting even if he did happen to nick himself. 

That wasn't stopping Jolly from shifting uncomfortably in his seat. It took a lot to make the boss squirm, but Noah sure was a pro at it. He attributed this to his years of practice in the field. 

“Everything is on time?” Jolly cleared his throat, his eyes shifting back and forth between the glint of the freshly sharpened blade and Noah’s relaxed face. 

“Aye, sir,” Noah mocked just as the knife clicked shut for a final time. “Truck hit the last checkpoint around midnight, so the shipment should be arriving within the hour.” 

No one knew that Jolly had recently taken over for his father. The older Karlsson made a point for the shift of power to be kept hush with only the inner circle being made aware. Everyone knew that a transitioning empire would have a moment of turmoil before everything went calm again, but they weren't currently in an area of peace where their empire in particular could handle the shakeup. If it wasn't for Jolly’s father being a little worse for wear, then they would've still had at least a decade to prepare for this. It was a good thing that Noah could remain calm amongst chaos. 

Jolly released a sound of irritation while shuffling the mouse of his computer to wake the screen. “Don't fucking call me ‘sir’,” he grumbled. His face was then illuminated in a wash of blue from the multiple feeds of their security cameras before a few additional clicks threw the images to the large television screen mounted on the wall. They both watched in a momentary silence, Jolly’s eyes shifting between each feed while Noah focused in on one specifically. 

You were balancing a tray of drinks, hips swaying in a natural motion before bending at the knees to pass a table of business men their order. Noah could tell that you were trying your best to smile but he had been watching you enough to know when it was genuine versus forced. He felt a pull to swoop down and rescue you from the hustle and bustle of the long Nocturnal nights but he had a job to do and being your knight in shining armor was not one of them. 

“Are the girls getting along better?” 

“In the Garden or in main?” 

“You know they're too preoccupied in the Garden to give a shit about petty drama.”

Noah did know this because there was rarely an issue with the dancers. The servers on the other hand…they were as catty as could be. He shrugged, his tattooed hands intertwining to tuck behind his head. “It's improving by the day.” 

“Are you sure about that?” 

Another click of the mouse and the squares of different security footage became only one – the feed that was directed at you. There was no audio but Noah didn't need sound to know that you were having a heated exchange with another waitress that he knew as Charlotte. Your jaw was clenched, grip tight on the edges of your serving tray that the bartender was currently filling with an order. Noah had to give you props for fulfilling your duties in a timely manner once the final drink was passed along with the bleach blonde still shrieking. 

Nevertheless, whatever the argument was about, it needed to end. Nocturnal was not going to become one of those clubs, not on his watch. He had helped build this place to what it was today and he would rather die than see its crumbled remains. 

Before Noah could get a word out, the scene that unfurled next played out in slow motion. You were unloading your tray when Charlotte walked by, her hip pointedly jutting into your backside to send not only your tray, but also the remaining drinks crashing down to the table. You fumbled from the impact in an attempt to right yourself but it was too late. You didn't stand a chance against the sneak attack. 

“Goddammit.” Noah groaned, Jolly exhaling one of his own in tandem. 

“Go fucking handle it! Bring them both up!” He hollered.

Noah wanted to argue that this immature nonsense was way beneath his pay grade but he wasn't going to pass up the chance of seeing you up close again. He was still trying to get the color of your eyes just right in his memory. 

READER 

Everything was soaked in a mixture of different alcohols. You, the table, the highly irritated men now hurling a combination of insults and complaints at you. You were frantically trying to clean things up by reaching for toppled over glasses and promising a drink on the house – if you could even do that – but nothing was helping with lessening their anger. 

“Fucking amateur.”

“Can't even serve a drink.”

“Shitty fucking help.”

There was a part of you that was plopped right back down to a year ago when everything you did was heavily critiqued by your ex boyfriend. He always had something to say about the way you held yourself, the foods you liked, your choice of makeup style. Nothing was ever to his standards unless he was the one to choose it. You fucking hated feeling like that helpless girl again, and by a group of strangers no less. 

“I'm so sorry, gentlemen!” you repeated again and again. “I must've slipped.”

You hadn't slipped. You had felt the way Charlotte shoved into you and if you didn't need this job then you would've been whacking her across the head with your now empty tray right this very second. The men continued to rant and you continued to ignore them for all of your sakes. 

Squatting down in the most ladylike way you could, you carried on with cleaning the area. Your hands were shaking, your nerves beginning to get the best of you. Anxiety had only recently become a problem for you and being the center of attention in this regard worsened the effects. You kept telling yourself to suck it up, that these guys weren't Vane, but your brain refused to follow through with the order. There was never a moment that you weren't expecting to look up and see his face staring back at you. 

A hand lightly touching your shoulder caused you to jump and nearly fall over to the now sticky floor. Thankfully you caught yourself at the last second. Your head whipped around, breath catching, just to see hot neighbor towering over you. Fuck. Your fight or flight had just almost kicked in. That really would've been embarrassing.  

“Boss would like a word.” He retracted his hand when he noticed the bewildered look in your eyes, a curious yet concerned gleam flashing within his own at the sight. 

“But, I - uh…I'm cleaning up –” 

“It'll be taken care of. Head for the back stairs and Shauna will show you to his office.” 

Slowly you stood back to your full height, nodding at his instructions. Your hands smoothed down over your skirt to straighten it out, followed by a slight tug at the hem as if that would help further cover the view of your legs from the angry men now narrowed in on you. 

“She looked better on her knees,” one of the men murmured to his pal at his side, both of them erupting into laughter. It was like you were up in VIP again with Marcus taunting you. Why were all men such assholes? 

You bit your tongue to prevent yourself from saying something you may regret. Choosing between your livelihood and your pride was difficult but you knew you would be no good to anyone, not even yourself, if you landed back on hard times. Taking in a deep breath, your eyes cut over to hot neighbor who now appeared to be rather…angry? The lights of Nocturnal encompassed him in red, but something told you that his skin would still be the same shade even under horrid fluorescent bulbs. 

“Now.” He demanded in a deep voice, his head nodding in the direction you were meant to go. The tone he used was frightening, this being more than enough to light the fire beneath your ass that had you quickly scampering across the club to the opposite side where the stairs sat. Just as he had said, Shauna was waiting at the base to guide you up. 

“What did you do to get King all in a tizzy?” Shauna laughed during your journey up the narrow staircase that would've been otherwise hidden had your new tour guide not been waiting. 

“I didn't do anything,” you shrugged. “Who is he, by the way? King?” 

A glance was taken back at you, the same amused expression you were used to seeing whenever you asked a question present across Shauna’s darkly painted lips. “He's the head of security…technically.”

“Technically?”

“He wears a lot of hats around here,” she sighed. “Security, second in command, amongst many other things, and now apparently a waitress wrangler.” 

The small jab made at your expense wasn't lost on you, but it was just one more thing you preferred to stay silent on. You were already stirring the pot a bit too much to have only been employed at Nocturnal for a week and you didn't need to further add to it. This must've been a new record since Shauna had mentioned in passing once that the turn over rate wasn't high. The workers loved it here, yet of course you were the only one having issues. 

Shauna’s pace slowed the further she led you down a dimly lit hallway. You had come to the conclusion that they didn't like light around here. Abruptly stopping in front of a door at the very end of the hallway, she turned to look at you, her eyes immediately sinking into yours. It appeared as if there was something she wanted to say by the way her lips faintly twitched, but she decidedly covered it with another smile. 

An arm extended off to the side to plant three firm knocks on the door, the sound of the lock electronically unlatching following seconds later. “Don't ask too many questions,” Shauna lowly added before she was sidestepping you and strutting back down the endless hallway, but only after she had twisted the doorknob and pushed the thick barrier open a couple of inches. 

X X X

You felt small standing in front of the boss. He was finely dressed in a black suit, a cross earring dangling from his ear, and his long hair secured back into a bun that sat low on his neck, while you were…well, you currently resembled a wet dog after having an entire tray of drinks find their way onto you. 

His face was emotionless as he stared at you, silently sizing you up, but you refused to be intimidated. So, you held his gaze despite the way your trembling fingers were anxiously fidgeting with each other. He must've noticed because he only chuckled and shook his head before releasing a deep breath you hadn't realized he had been holding. 

Well, fuck. Had that been some sort of test? 

“Genevieve…” he slowly spoke, sounding out each syllable to himself. 

“That's not my name. I mean, not really, that's just what I chose to go –”

A hand was lifted to motion for you to stop and his head turned in a single shake. “I know that's not your real name. Everyone here has a chosen alias. Some for fun and others for safety precautions. Doesn't matter to me what you choose to call yourself.”

There was an accent attached to his words, though it was one you couldn't quite place. 

“What does matter to me is how you choose to conduct yourself in my club. And what I saw tonight doesn't reflect too well on my business.” 

There wasn't yet a chance for you to defend yourself and tell your side of the story because the door opened and your conversation was immediately overtaken by Charlotte’s nails-on-a-chalkboard voice. You didn't miss the way the boss let a cringe briefly overtake his otherwise stoic demeanor. 

“I didn't even do anything! She was standing too far out and I accidentally ran into her! It's not my fault she likes to stick her ass out like some feral cat in heat!” 

King was right behind her, the same annoyed expression plastered across his own face. He didn't say a word as he crossed the office to take his place beside where the boss sat at his desk, leaving both you and Charlotte standing on trial before them. 

Your arms crossed over your chest to hug yourself, a chill setting in from all the different beverages soaking into your clothes. Maybe if you let Charlotte keep talking then she would dig her own grave deeper and deeper until there was no way for her to get out. She was already doing a pretty bang up job of it. At least that meant you could get out of there faster. 

Charlotte stepped up beside you with her hands on her hips, one leg extended out a bit further. As if on instinct you shifted a bit to your left, purposely placing a little more space between you and the loud blonde. When you looked up, hot neighbor was watching you, the same curious gleam in his eyes as it had been moments prior. It seemed as if he was always watching you, even when you weren't fully aware of it. You would never forget the way it felt to have his eyes raking across your skin whether it be from a security camera, in person, or from your open window. 

“What happened?” Boss asked, his fingertips lightly planting against the top of his desk. Charlotte immediately raced to recite a scenario you were sure wouldn't be the actual truth, but she was stopped within the first word by the boss holding his hand up to her. “Genevieve.” 

You looked back and forth between the two men watching you. You were expecting to feel uncomfortable beneath their gazes but the only thing bringing you discomfort in that moment was your wet bra. Maybe your naive brain wasn’t scared of them, your intuition telling you that they were not your enemy, or maybe you just hadn't yet clocked them as a source of fear. 

“I was serving my table and she purposely ran into me which caused me to drop my entire tray.” Simple. What more was there to be said on the matter? 

“What prompted the argument you two were seen having beforehand?” 

You could sense Charlotte tensing beside you, the toe of her shoe beginning to lightly tap against the floor in quick succession. She knew this was where she was going to go down for what happened because she couldn't explain it away as an “accident”. That is, if they believed you. Charlotte was a seasoned veteran at Nocturnal, whereas you had only just started. They were already more likely to take her side based on that alone. 

“She…um…she was accusing me of flirting with someone she was interested in.” Your eyes did a quick glance to King since he was the someone in question. “I wasn't, of course, because I've only had one conversation with the guy and she just…assumed.” 

Charlotte witnessed the little run in you had with hot neighbor on your first shift after he had escorted you down from VIP. She found joy in riling you up about it ever since during every one of your shifts, and typically you ignored her, but tonight you had been fed up and finally started trying to defend yourself head on. People, Charlotte specifically, thought you were weak merely because you were quiet. You wanted them to know that it was best not to underestimate you. You just knew how to pick your battles. 

“You made her drop her drinks because of a guy?” The boss was now looking at Charlotte. His tone read as calm but you could tell by the widening of his eyes and the way his hand flattened on the desk that he was growing more and more irritated by the second. “This isn't high school, Charlotte, so why are you acting like an immature child?” 

Charlotte opened her mouth to speak but King’s heavy sigh of boredom put a halt to her attempt. “We don't have time for this,” he exclaimed after taking a glance at his watch. Boss looked his way and hot neighbor raised his brows, both of them partaking in some sort of private silent conversation that you weren't privy to. 

“Your tips are paying for those lost drinks.” The boss concluded after a few beats. “As well as their replacement ones.” 

“What?! Nothing happens to her?!” Charlotte scoffed, her voice again piercing your ears and making you lean back a bit. 

“It's not up for debate! Now out! Get back to work!”  

You were quick to head for the door behind Charlotte, who was grumbling angrily to herself, despite having an eerie feeling that the blonde was going to make the rest of your shift a living hell. Maybe even all of your shifts for the foreseeable future. You had one foot out the door when a hand secured around your bicep, firmly stopping your motions forward. “Not you,” his low voice sounded in your ear, a chill immediately radiating down your spine. 

King was gentle as he pulled you back a step and used his free hand to close the door. He was so close that you could feel his breath fanning your hair and making it tickle your neck. The slightest tilt backwards and you knew his chest would connect with your back, and honestly, you were very tempted to do just that. You had been imagining the way his body would feel against yours for over a month at this point, never once thinking it would actually come to fruition, but now here you were. The only reason why you resisted was because you weren't alone in the room and you didn't need your boss witnessing you becoming a complete puddle for his right hand man. 

“Jolly just wants a few more minutes of your time.”

X X X 

King. Jolly. You felt like you were in some dark fucked up version of Candyland with those names, but instead of the Lollipop Woods and princesses, it was nothing but tattooed men and their load of secrets. Not nearly as tasty as the candy would've been. Well, at least not until you'd become knowledgeable of these secrets. 

You strolled into your apartment a little after 2am, your new boss - Jolly - allowing you to leave early since the entirety of the last bit of your visit with him had consisted of you sitting in front of his desk and shivering. King passed you a Nocturnal t-shirt at some point in an attempt to help warm you but it didn't do nearly as much as either of you were hoping. You swore you saw him briefly contemplating giving you the jacket he wore, though he did a quick glance at Jolly before ultimately deciding against it. You couldn't say you blamed him. 

The quiet of your apartment was welcoming, this finally giving you a chance to hear your own thoughts and actually process the night. Jolly merely wanted to chat with you, your new hire file laid out in front of him, since he hadn't been given the chance to formally introduce himself as he usually would when new employees began. He explained that his father had been the original owner of Nocturnal but he now did the majority of all the work that went along with the club since his dad had his hand in other things. You politely smiled and nodded, unsure as to why he was choosing to tell you this. All in all, he was nice. There was a kindness to him that wasn’t overtly obvious but you could sense it. 

Hot neighbor only spoke up a few times, instead opting to remain seated back in the dark corner with his feet propped up versus at Jolly’s side. This probably meant that you weren't deemed as a threat. He held the same knife from VIP the entire time, and you knew this because the blade would occasionally catch the light and shine on you. Each time it would and you'd glance his way, he would greet you with a barely-there sideways smirk. Fifteen minutes later, he was looking at his phone and then springing to his feet with a reminder to Jolly that they had a shipment to receive. And that was that. End of meeting. 

It was all so normal, the interaction, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. What? You had no idea. 

After your entirely too long and too hot shower, you took solace in front of your open window. His was open as well, as it always was, but there were no signs of movement. This wasn't unusual since you knew he had business to tend to when you left, though you were still curious as to how late he was usually at the club. Was that where he always was when he wasn't home? That's what you were going to tell yourself was true. 

You remained awake for an hour longer, occasionally glancing at his window, but everything remained still. 

X X X 

“Come out with us! Pleaseeeee! Please please!” Mel begged via FaceTime, a dramatic pout pulling at her lips. You could see the usual crowd behind her as she walked down the street, the group headed towards their normal haunt for a few drinks before eventually finding a club. It was the same weekend routine every time. Normally you would attend but you weren't feeling it that night. It was your first day off, as well as night, in awhile, so you were going to take some much needed alone time. 

Your nose scrunched and you shook your head at the phone camera. “I'm really just not feeling up to it,” you explained in a playful whiny voice of your own. “The club has been kicking my ass and I have to be at Red’s bright and early tomorrow.”

“Ugh! Just tell me you're actually having a steamy affair with hot neighbor! Tell me you're going to his place to let him absolutely ravish you!” 

“Yeah, that's totally what's happening,” you joked. “He's getting the whips and ropes ready for me right now.” 

This was even funnier to you because you hadn't yet revealed to Mel that you worked with hot neighbor now. There was no real reason for keeping it from her. Just that it tended to slip your mind when the two of you were around each other. 

“That sounds so sexy! The fuck!” Your best friend squealed, the loud noise causing you to pull the phone back a bit. 

“Okay, you go enjoy yourself! I promise I'll come next time.” 

“Fineee! Love you!” 

The FaceTime call ended with Melinda then laughing at something someone around her said before it all went dark. You sighed softly to yourself, your gaze remaining on the blank screen for a long moment. You were tempted to say ‘fuck it’ and go out but the exhaustion was really starting to hit. You would be no fun. 

As the silence set in, that's when you found yourself wondering about King. All day you had managed to avoid looking at his window because you weren't going to let this random guy be a defining moment in your life. Plus, he was your boss. Kind of. Second in command definitely made him your boss in a way, right? But now that the sun was setting and your loneliness was creeping in, you couldn't stop yourself from glancing over. 

A big part of you was hoping he wouldn't be there. After all, it was the weekend. Okay, it was Sunday, but you knew that was still a busy day for clubs when it came to the city. Nevertheless, you couldn't get involved with him. It wasn't smart for so many reasons and you were really working on trying to be smarter these days. Why did that have to be so hard? 

Taking in a breath, your eyes danced along the other windows of different apartments before ultimately landing on his. No curtains still - go figure - but the space wasn't empty as it had been the night before. There he sat, drink in hand, his focus on the large screen television mounted on his wall. You could barely make out the images but you did know it was some sort of cartoon. Your chin propped comfortably in your hand the further you sat up until you were on your knees leaning over the back. Very similar to how you were positioned the first time you saw him. 

The only difference was that now you didn't care if you got caught watching him. 

When he didn't look your way within the first few seconds, you shifted your focus to the darkening sky. Deep pinks and oranges swirled around, fading into the blue that would soon fully overtake the sky. You couldn't see too much because of the position of the apartment building, but it would have to do for now. You could remember staring at the sky for hours on end in your previous life. It was all you could do when Vane was working and you had no choice but to tag along. You weren't allowed to have a phone to keep you entertained back then. Not even just to play Candy Crush or some nonsense like that. Look at you now, still staring at the same sky, thinking the same wonder-filled thoughts. Old habits truly did die hard. 

It was the slight motion in the corner of your eye that brought you back down to the present. King was looking at you, his hand waving to help draw your attention. When he noticed you looking he offered a friendly smile, one you returned without hesitation. The fact that he seemed much nicer outside of the club confused you, but you were going to continue to believe that he was wearing a mask at Nocturnal. You at least hoped that was the mask and this version of him wasn't. Not that you cared…since you were being smarter and all that…

King raised his hand to his head, his fingers shifting so that his thumb was at his ear and his pinky at his mouth. The universal symbol for ‘phone’. Was he asking for your number? Your brows furrowed slightly, your thoughts running rampant. This was not something you had seen coming. At least he was asking instead of simply taking it from your file, though. 

Nodding, you brushed your hair away from your shoulder to ready yourself for the task of using your hands to communicate your phone number. You slowly tossed up each number, hot neighbor looking from you to his phone every time until he had all the information he needed. Seconds later, your phone vibrated, a message from an unknown number popping up. You immediately saved it under ‘hot neighbor', naturally. 

HOT NEIGHBOR: Hello, neighbor. 

You arched an eyebrow at the simple greeting, your eyes briefly glancing back up to where he still stood across the walkway. He was looking at you, phone in hand, patiently waiting for your response. 

YOU: Caught you staring. 

HOT NEIGHBOR: I decided to take a play from your book. 

HOT NEIGHBOR: Seems like it worked. 

You couldn't fight the smile that spread across your lips. Your teeth sunk down into the lower tier while you simultaneously shifted so you were sitting down on your couch again. Your back to the window to keep the view of your face hidden. The last thing you needed was hot neighbor seeing you smile as you made the mistake of getting closer to him. 

YOU: Are you watching cartoons? 

HOT NEIGHBOR: I'm an adult, Genevieve. It's anime. 

The use of your work name made your lips twist in distaste. You were already pretending to be a different person in your day to day life. You didn't need to mix things up even more with the addition of your Nocturnal alias. Something about it just didn't sit right with you. 

YOU: You can call me by my actual name when we're not at work. 

Funny, since even that also wasn't your actual name.

HOT NEIGHBOR: I guess that means I should extend the same courtesy to you. 

YOU: Is King not your name? 

HOT NEIGHBOR: It's a nickname from when Jolly and I were younger. 

The gray typing bubbles continued to pop up and disappear, as if he was unsure of what to say. You watched them do the same dance a few times, your curiosity rising by the second. What could he possibly be typing? 

HOT NEIGHBOR: My name is Noah. 

X X X

Three hours. That's how long you spent texting with Noah the previous night and you were definitely feeling it. Two Red Bulls, a cup of black coffee, and a couple of pieces of some weird energy gum Mel had told you about wasn't even enough to keep you from yawning every few minutes. Yes, you were exhausted, but you didn't regret a minute of it. Maybe you would one day when you were forced to remember why getting close to people was a bad idea, but you were going to live in ignorant bliss until then. 

“I told you not to run yourself into the ground.” Red wagged his finger at you like a stereotypical grandfather would. “It was going to come back and bite you in the ass.” 

You laughed, shaking your head at him. You continued to go through the motions of folding his linens as he hobbled into the room with the help of his solid wooden cane. Red was a kind man, at least from what you could tell. He enjoyed reciting stories to you from his heyday and introducing you to new foods that his personal chef would whip up. You disliked a lot of them because of how picky you were but Red got a kick out of listening to your outlandish comparisons. 

“I know, I know,” you heavily sighed. “I was off from the club yesterday, but I still stayed up too late.” 

Red released a breath as he lowered himself down into his favorite sitting chair. His eyes remained on you, a knowing smile occupying his lived-in face. “You're too young to get caught up in the headache of boys. Or girls. Or whoever you're interested in. You need to live a little first.”

You both laughed as you set the neatly folded sheets aside and began working on the basket of towels. If only Red knew that you had ‘lived’ enough for multiple lifetimes. None of which you had any desire to relive. So why were you going down the same path with Noah? Of course you didn't want to believe that's what was happening because it felt so good in the beginning stages like this, but you knew better than anyone how it could abruptly turn and crash. You had the scars to prove it. 

“I'm not getting caught up. I promise. I'm just…making friends.”

“Friends,” Red snorted. “That's how I ended up with five kids, by making friends.” 

“Red!” You lightly smacked his arm with the towel in your grasp, your lighthearted laughter continuing. It felt good to be able to have a relaxing conversation like this, even if it was with an older man pushing eighty. In your opinion this only meant he was better at giving advice than anyone else in your life. 

Still grinning, he reached for the remote on the side table by his chair and turned the TV on. Before you knew it, a CSI rerun was on and Red was leaned back, lightly snoring. 

X X X 

HOT NEIGHBOR: What are you doing? 

You used one hand to retrieve your phone from your back pocket as the other placed a small pile of washcloths in the hall linen closet. Your heart began to race when you saw who the message was from, cheeks instantly reddening. Well…fuck. That wasn't a good sign for your mental well being. 

YOU: Folding an old man’s laundry at my day job. Yes, it's just as exciting as it sounds. 

HOT NEIGHBOR: Drop a pin and I'll bring you coffee. 

You had to give it to him, he surely was straight to the point. You did as he said because what harm could come from a quick coffee visit? Plus, you desperately needed more caffeine. You would take an IV of it straight into the vein if it was offered to you. 

Half an hour later you received a message from Noah saying that he was outside. You took a glance at Red’s still sleeping form as you tip toed out of the house, carefully maneuvering your way down the narrow stone path that led to a small black wrought iron gate. It was only waist high, but it was a nice little touch in front of his city mansion. Typically flowers would be lining the path as well, but the frigid air kept them at bay for now. 

Arms crossed over your chest, your eyes zeroed in on Noah who was standing on the sidewalk. He was once again wearing his usual black on black attire, black gloves, and a black coat to finish off the look. How was he so effortlessly attractive? You could assume he was heading for the club based on his outfit alone. Not only that, but he appeared perplexed. His brows were furrowed, his eyes constantly looking up and down the sidewalk like he was on the search for someone. 

“Hey,” you breathed out into the cold as you stepped closer after latching the small gate behind you. Noah extended the second coffee to you which you graciously took and immediately sipped from. You didn't even want to know how he knew your coffee order. Sure, it was simple, but how did he get it so perfect? 

“This is where you work?” He motioned to the large brick building behind you. You glanced back at the house along with him, nodding. 

“Yeah, it's pretty easy. I'm basically a glorified errand runner slash housekeeper.” 

Noah slowly nodded, though his puzzled look refused to break. You weren't at the point yet where you could call him out for it, at least not in the way you would've wanted by just being straight forward. 

“Everything okay?” You eventually asked, to which Noah relaxed his shoulders and smiled at you. 

“Sorry, yeah. I was just remembering something I needed to do at the club.” 

“Oh, okay. Well, how much do I owe you for the coffee?” 

“What? No, you don't owe me anything.” He was now peering at you as if you had two heads. “Consider it an apology for keeping you up so late.” 

“No apology needed.” You wanted to tell Noah that you actually enjoyed talking to him. He made you feel comfortable, as odd as that may have sounded since he was still practically a stranger. But you didn't. You skirted the topic completely. “Did you want to come inside? I didn't mean to leave you standing out here in the cold.” 

“I've really got to get to the club. I just wanted to see you for a minute”. 

“Well…you've seen me.” You laughed, your hip dipping a bit and your free hand motioning towards yourself. Fuck, that was so lame. Hopefully it wasn't too obvious to him that you were completely out of your comfort zone. You weren't good at this sort of thing. You couldn't even remember the last time you had tried genuinely flirting with someone. 

Noah's dark eyes focused on yours, his look intense. You felt bared beneath his gaze, vulnerable, but something about it kept you hanging on. 

“That I have.” 

NOAH

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

He tried not to seem too flustered as he said his goodbyes to you and headed down the street. The further he walked from your eyesight, the faster his steps became. Noah hated leaving you like that because he could sense your confusion but it was for the best. There was no telling who within that house was watching you with him and he didn't want to put your well being in danger anymore than he probably already had. 

As he turned the corner, he quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Jolly. It only took two rings for him to pick up because Jolly knew better than anyone that he didn't call people. He actually despised talking on the phone. He would only do it for Jolly and now maybe you too, if that's what you wanted. 

“We have a problem,” he breathed out the moment the call connected. Dark eyes continued to dart about, every nerve in his body on edge. 

“What kind of problem?” 

“Our lovely little Genevieve is working for the enemy.” 

There was a long moment of silence and then Jolly sighed. “Which enemy?” 

“The worst one.” Noah didn't need to give any further explanation. His best friend knew how hard it was for him to think about the past, let alone talk about it. After all, it wasn't everyday he was plunged back into the memories of the night his parents were killed. 

CHAPTER THREE

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A Misdemeanor Of The Heart: Chapter 30 (Human Alastor x Married Reader)

CW: It's disgustingly fluffy. Brush your teeth after. Oh, and anxiety.

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Alastor returned with a glass of water to find you dressed, sitting on the bed, bathed in the warm light of the setting sun that was quickly dying. He wondered passively if you had replaced the panties. He hadn’t given you a pair to do so with. Not that he had any intention of finding out tonight.

You were clearly overwhelmed again, and he didn’t want to push you. Even if you didn’t realize it, you could easily tip over. He wanted learning about what pleasure you were missing out on to be a pleasant experience, one where he left you wanting more of what only he could give you. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, handing you the glass of water. For a few short moments, you sat on the bed, sipping at the water. 

“I am,” you said after thinking, “tired, I think.” 

“You look like you want to cry?” Alastor whispered, kneeling in front of you and cupping your cheek with his hand. 

“It’s just a lot, I think.” You whispered, leaning into his touch. “Being here, sneaking away, and then… I’m scared I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone, that you’ll have decided someone you can have is better. Or that it was all a dream.” He kissed your lips softly, pulling back to let you continue. “I don’t want you to go.” 

“I’ll stay right here with you, alright?” Alastor said, running his hand down the back of your head as you leaned into him. 

“Okay,” you sniffled, not wanting to let the tears come. 

“I’ll stay here while I change even.” Alastor cocked an eyebrow at you as you blushed, “You don’t even have to look in the mirror to watch this time.” 

You choked on the sip of water you had been trying to take to calm the blazing fire in your face. “You knew?” 

Alastor kissed your wet lips one last time before standing, laugh filling the space. The sound of his laugh seemed to wrap you in a hug even as he walked to his bag, pulling his shirt from where it was still tucked into his pants. He looked over at you and winked as you tried to avoid shamelessly watching and failed. 

He worked the button on his pants free and sent them to the ground with no shame at all. You tried to keep your eyes on his torso but failed. When he had returned with the water, he turned on the lamp at the side of the bed and now that light was preventing him from having the cover of darkness to protect any bit of modesty. 

The dips of his muscles were cast in shadows, contrasting with the light shining over his skin to highlight every flex and jump of muscle. Your eyes darted around, bravely taking in his strong thighs and the curve of his ass, and then he turned. Your eyes traveled down lean abdominal muscles, following the line of his hips to…

Oh my, you darted your eyes up. It wasn’t like you’d never seen a man’s manhood before, but you avoided looking at Laurence’s. Alastor’s was larger, though he was far from ready to perform. 

Thinking back to the first time she had lain against Alastor’s chest, nestled between his legs and with his hand between your legs, giving you pleasure. You hadn’t felt him. His size was considerable. Surely, even if he wasn’t one that expanded much, you would have felt him. 

Again, you had been nestled against him as he and you shared cookies. You had kissed and indulged in the pleasures of romance, but thinking back, there wasn’t even a stirring. The same could be said about when you and he laid together on the beach. 

Was there something wrong with him? Surely not, Alastor had mentioned having experience with the bodies of women. Was it something about you? Did he not find you desirable? Was there something about you? 

Alastor returned to your side, loose pants tied low on his hips and lacking a shirt still. He took the glass from your hands and took a long, deep gulp. The act of sharing a glass felt… right, even as doubt ran through your head. 

“Are you going to finish dressing?” you asked as you watched his throat work. 

He set the glass on the end table before pulling you to stand on wobbly legs. “I need to shake the sand off the bed. If you are strong enough, you’ll sleep better with the sand rinsed from your hair. They have a shower if you don’t wish to run a bath.” 

Was there something wrong with you? You nodded mutely, walking into the bathroom and turning on the shower. You mechanically washed the sand from your hair and body, coming back to blankets pulled back and a tray of dried fruits. 

Alastor stood, lighting a third oil lamp before switching off the electric lights. One was on each of the end tables, already lit. 

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“A bit, yes.” You hated how timid your voice came out. 

“I figured maybe you’d need a little snack?” Alastor offered, crossing the dim dark space. “Sometimes it can help if you’re feeling a bit on edge after…” 

“Oh,” You tried to fight the flush rising in your cheeks. It wasn’t normal to flush so much. He would think you were nothing more than a schoolgirl. “Thank you.” 

Alastor caught your chin and looked intently down at you. Could he tell you had cried in the shower? You hoped not. You were being a silly girl, that was all. You didn’t want to say anything for fear of sending him away.

“Are you sure you’re just tired?” Alastor asked.

“I am,” you said, smiling. You wanted it to just be that, not the insecurities of a girl. 

He hummed, looking into your eyes before leaning down and kissing you softly. “I’ll take a quick shower, too. Don’t want to get sand in the bed. Do you want me to leave the door open so you can be sure I don’t sneak out into the night?” 

“Alastor,” you smacked his chest on impulse, brain shutting off as soon as your hand hit his the naked skin. You’d forgotten he was half dressed in the moment. “I’m fine, honest.” 

“Alright, alright.” Alastor laughed, kissing you one last time before stepping into the bathroom. 

He closed the door most of the way, letting steam and the sounds of water mix with his musical humming as he washed away the beach. You scrubbed your eyes and sat on the bed, picking at dried fruit. You didn’t know where he had gotten it, but that didn’t matter. 

You wouldn’t let your silly head get in the way of what you had. The plate was near half gone when he returned, curls freshly weighed down by the water. He still wore no shirt. 

“Are you going to finish dressing?” You ask as he ran the towel over his hair, glasses held by an arm in his mouth. It was strange seeing him without them. They were such a part of him. 

“Would you like me to?” he asked, tossing the towel onto the chair in the room’s corner. An odd choice, but a convenient place for a towel. You startled, eyes wide as you struggled to form words. How did you say no, you didn’t want him to, but the lack of propriety was confusing you? “I rarely sleep with a shirt, but if you’d rather…” 

“No!” The word was too forceful, too loud, and you couldn’t take it back. He would think you easy, eager. But weren’t you? “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” 

“And you won’t be either?” Alastor asked, closing the distance and wrapping his arms around you. “I can change or I can sleep on the couch. Just say the word. You don’t have to feel bad about it at all.” 

“It’s fine.” You braved resting your hands on his bare chest, running them up and around his shoulders. It was a one off. You were imagining things. You hadn’t been ready, so you just hadn’t noticed how he wanted you. You told yourself that again and again. You’d pay better attention and it would be fine. He wanted you the way men wanted women. You were good enough for him. “I don’t want you to go. I’m not going to want you to go.” 

“Then we should get some sleep,” Alastor said, sweeping your legs out from under you and carrying you around the room as if you were a bride. He leaned over you and blew out the lamp he had just lit before carrying you to the bed, lit by fire. 

“Why the lamps?” You asked as he settled you down into the center of the bed. 

“I find them more relaxing than the light provided by electric lights.” 

You didn’t know what to say as he crawled into the bed next to you. He reached over you, long arms letting him reach to the lamp on your side and turned the flame down low, so low it hardly cast any light off at all. 

Alastor then turned down his lamp, letting it cast a soft glow over the room before he settled into the bed. You sat, looking at him as he ran his hand through his damp hair. He waited, and you waited, unsure what you should do.

When you’d go to bed with Laurence, you would find yourself as far to the edge as possible, not wanting to touch him and invite his affections. Your mind warred as you chewed your lip, unsure if Alastor wanted you near or if you should keep a distance. 

“Are you going to come here or do you prefer to sleep sitting up, curled up around yourself?” Alastor teased, looking at you in the dim light. 

“Go there?” 

“Yes,” Alastor grabbed your arm and tugged you softly toward him, “Unless you’d rather I not hold you.” 

“No, I- I’d like that. I just,” 

“Have never done this before either?” Alastor teased as he pulled you to him, ignoring the heat in your face as he settled you against his side. Your head rested against his bare chest, cradled by his shoulder as he draped his arm around your waist, thumb caressing your hip. 

“Not really,” you admitted, “I mean- I have I just, it’s different with you.” 

“How so?” he wrapped your hand in his, pulling it from where you had it hovering under the blanket to rest against his chest, sandwiched between his beating heart and his warm palm. 

“I’ve never wanted this before,” you whispered, eyes unfocused, looking out into the dark room. “I’d alway stay to be as far away as I could at night. I never wanted to give him a reason to hurt me more. Everything always hurt with him.” You realized you were crying when a tear dripped from your nose, splashing onto his chest.

“It’s shouldn’t be like that,” Alastor whispered, holding you tighter to him. “You shouldn’t be in fear of being harmed. You should be able to seek comfort in each other.”

“Then why is that how it is?” You curled into him, “Why is it you’re so soft with me, that you care to make me feel good, but all he will do is hurt me? What’s wrong with me?” 

“Nothing is wrong with you, my dear.” Alastor soothed, rubbing your back. “You’re beautiful, strong and a lovely cook. You’re kind. There’s nothing wrong with you at all. He is simply a pig of a man who doesn’t know what he has.” 

Silence ticked on as you listened to the thump of Alastor’s heart, tears leaking down your face to wet his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. 

“No need.” Alastor said, kissing the top of your head softly. You had relaxed in his arms, still awake, but sleep quickly claiming you. When was the last time you had allowed yourself to cry, not from pain or fear, but from the weight of your emotions alone? “Do you wish he was like this?” 

You sighed in his arms, and Alastor was sure you wouldn’t answer the question. He had no right to ask you that question. “No,” you whispered. “If I knew it could be like this before you, maybe. But now? I don’t want him at all. I want you. Is that wrong? Is it selfish?” 

Alastor shushed you, lulling you back to the doze you had been in. “We’re allowed to be selfish. I swear, I will free you from him.” 

“How?” you asked, words slurring with sleep as you sank deeper into relaxation. “Gonna find the Shadow Butcher.” 

Alastor barked out a laugh that he quickly choked down. “Maybe. Would it bother you if he found his end?” 

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “I don’t think so. I just want to be free. I just want to be with you.” 

You woke slowly with the morning sun tucked into Alastor’s arms as he curled around you. Your legs were tangled together. As you blinked your sleepy eyes open, they instantly met his brown eyes, so close. 

“Good Morning,” Alastor whispered, “I didn’t want to wake you.” 

“Morning,” you whispered back. “You didn’t.” 

“I’v been waiting to get up and get coffee made,” Alastor said, running his leg up yours as he pulled you closer. 

“You could have,” you whispered, nestling into his chest tighter. 

“I didn’t want you to wake alone,” 

“I’m sorry for being silly last night,” you whispered, only to have him pull back and wait for you to look up at him. Reluctantly, you did. “I was-” 

“Fine.” Alastor said. “You were, and are, fine. You did nothing wrong. This is so very new, it’s alright to find yourself emotional, overwhelmed. I’m here to take care of you.” 

“Because you love me?” you tentatively said, reaching out to caress his cheek, dotted with stubble he had yet to tend to. 

“Because I love you,” he reassured, taking the time to say each word clearly, voice naked of the accent he so often wore. He was making a point, Alastor, the man loved you. “Now let’s get that coffee made. I could use a shave too.” 

You watched as rolled over you, settling his weight on forearms on either side of your shoulders. Leaning down, he kissed you hotly, tasting the morning on your lips. He sighed into this kiss, as if it was what he had been needing all morning. 

Then he was pulling away, dragging himself from the bed, and you were chasing him. He chuckled as you sat up, arms around his neck and pressing a searing kiss to his jaw, missing his lips. His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him as he stood.

“Coffee, then the day.” Alastor said, kissing you between the words. “You have until coffee is done until I fix my hair.” 

“Do you have to?” you asked, reaching up and running your fingers through the wild curls. “I like it like this.” 

Hand in hand, you walked down the boardwalk. You each had ice cream cones in your hands, both nearly gone as you laughed. The morning had given way. Magical moments of sweet domesticity gave way to an afternoon out. 

“You have ice cream on your face,” Alastor said, leaning forward and placing an open-mouthed kiss on the side of your mouth. You froze at the brazen action while his tongue slipped against your lips, scooping up the ice cream smeared on your face. 

It was sweet, out of a storybook. As had the rest of the morning and right into the afternoon. Music floated on the air as Alastor lead out down the streets. 

“Fine young couple,” an older woman said, smiling as you walked by. You couldn’t help but smile wider up at Alastor. She was right, you and he made a fine couple. It was a shame that you were only a couple for the weekend. 

A man played his guitar, sitting on the street. The music was rich, clumsy and a bit out of tune but it didn’t stop Alastor from dropping a few coins into the man’s cup. 

“May I have this dance?” Alastor asked, smiling at you like he was a boy asking a girl for the first time. 

You allowed him to take your hand as he spun you around the sidewalk, stepping off and onto the street as he spun you around. You couldn’t help how you giggled, feeling like a young girl again yourself as he dipped you, bringing you up in his arms. 

Being with Alastor was magical, as the sun began to set on Saturday. People watched, couples joined in, but all you saw was Alastor. All Alastor saw was you.

Oh, how good it felt to be in love. This is what Laurence had stolen from you but that was alright, you had found it anyway. For the rest of your life, you would fight for little moments to find your way to Alastor’s side. 

As you laughed, spinning in his arms, you couldn’t help but realize you would face any battle for him. You’d burn your life down for him if you knew he would survive. Hell, if you even thought you wouldn’t. 

Alastor was worth everything to you. 

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