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sitepathos · 2 months ago

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From Gold to Mold

Chapter 10: The Meeting

As the Megamycete watches as you stomp around your room and vent your frustrations about the last few days, it begins to wonder how the Bats came to remember their little black sheep and why they are so insistent you return to Gotham.

It searches through your memories and experiences all the sadness, fear, anger, hatred, and loneliness you experienced for years, all those emotions still so potent even after your departure from the manor four years ago, having been dredged up by their unwelcome visits. It was clear that, besides the butler, none of them considered you a part of their merry band of misfits, not even bothering to spare you a passing glance.

The exception to this is the youngest one, Damian, who constantly went out of his way to make your life harder by mocking you, hurting you, and releasing his menagerie of pets on you, forcing you to run through the endless halls of the mansion barricade yourself in the closest room you could find.

Now, after four years after your escape and maintaining little contact with the family butler, they show up on your door, one after the other, trying to force you to leave your perfect life for one that brought you nothing but pain and misery.

Why?

Why do they want you so much?

Why do they insist on you returning to a place you clearly hate?

Why do they now wish to give you the love they denied you for so long?

Why—

Wait, they are meeting in their little cave, gathering around the massive computer in the center of the massive cavern.

Its roots have long since surrounded the cave and it is still connected to the main colony back in Gotham, but when it took you as its host, it has had no need to tap into its roots to see the world above when it can see the world through your eyes and experience it through your senses.

Using its roots to see the outside world no longer has the same appeal when your senses are far more vibrant and provide far more detail.

When it proposed you become its host, it must admit, it never thought it would be so mutually beneficial. Of course, it would be able to leave the cavern and finally experience a world firsthand that had been forever just out of reach for over four-hundred years, but you would recover from your injuries and be akin to a god among men with your newfound abilities. You were the one who had more to gain from your joining, but it was willing to trade one prison for another if it meant finally seeing the world above and having someone to talk to.

But you proved it wrong.

When it became a part of you, you treated it like a person, not a thing. You value its input and alter your plans if it desires to see or experience something. You frequently talk to it, telling it things that you haven’t told anyone else and speaking to it like it was a lifelong friend.

It has no further use for that toxic city and its citizens when it has the warm haven of Goodsprings and you to keep it company.

It has come to admire you, even going as far as to see you as a friend and confidant, and wants nothing but the best for you as you so rightfully deserve and to see you suffer teaches it a new definition of rage.

“Running blood tests,” your failure of a father says as he types on the keyboard, causing a machine next to the massive device to make noises.

“If Master Y/N does test positive for the Meta Gene, what do you intend to do, Master Bruce,” the butler, the only one in this crowd it respects, asks.

“If Y/N is a meta, I’ll have to find out what his powers are and how to counter it.”

So that’s what this meeting is about, they managed to put the pieces together that you are no mere human. But how did they manage to get a sample of your blood? Since your joining, you have had no need for doctors as its influence makes you immune against common illnesses and diseases.

“Getting his blood was a simple task,” Damian taunts. “Honestly, this would have been solved already if you sent me, Father.”

Of course. It should have known the little menace gave up too easily.

While you hate Bruce Wayne in every sense of the word, Damian Wayne is right behind him. From the moment you met him, he went up of his way to make your life a living nightmare and was allowed to get away with impunity due to obvious favoritism from Dick Grayson.

The memory of Dick defending Damian after he gave you a scar made the Megamycete furious. No matter his upbringing, he had no right to harm you, and yet, he was allowed to draw his sword on you. It was only pure luck that you managed to move to avoid being critically wounded, only resulting in a scar.

The Megamycete has seen your many fantasies of hurting Damian and making him feel inferior and wants to help you make them a reality.

“Results are in,” Bruce announces, making them all crowd around the computer.

“No Meta Gene,” Tim remarks, staring at the monitor with alarming intensity.

“Yeah, but look,” Jason exclaims, pointing at one of the results. “He’s got something in him that doesn’t belong.”

“For once, Todd is right. The tests show foreign substances in his blood.”

“Wait,” Tim mutters as he leans over and begins typing on the computer, bringing up an extensive menu and going through various files. “That looks so familiar.” An image is pulled up on the monitor. “Here it is! The stuff in his blood matches the stuff found in what remained of Joker.”

Well, this is rather unfortunate. It had hoped that there would be very little of the clown left to examine after his execution by your hand, but as usual, these people cannot resist poking into areas they do not belong.

“If this is substance is in Master Y/N’s blood, does that mean he is responsible for Joker’s death?”

“Bruce, you can’t lock up Y/N after bringing him home,” Dick whines. “You have to admit, your thing with Joker was only going to end one way!”

“We don’t even know if Y/N killed Joker,” Tim interjects. “It’s possible this strain of mold was in both of them and Joker’s was somehow activated, killing him.”

“That’s not exactly comforting, Drake,” Damian responds, glaring at Tim. “That means that Y/N could be in danger. If I had my pick, I would he be responsible for Joker’s death. Knowing he can take down as formidable as the Joker is proof he is a Wayne and my brother.”

If it had eyes, the Megamycete would roll them. This insecure little terror spent years making it clear he saw you as an interloper into his “perfect world” and not as a brother and that you are a disgrace to the Wayne bloodline (although that bloodline was tainted far before you came to be). He has some nerve to call you his brother now.

It still made it angry that he had the nerve to critique your mother (your memories of her painted the woman as a saint) when his mother, the daughter of a millennium-old maniac with delusions of grandeur (yes, you are very aware of his familiar secrets) who drugged Bruce in order to bring him into the world.

“We need to bring him back here, Bruce,” Dick says, defusing a fight between the two. “If he’s in danger, he needs to be back home.”

“I agree,” Bruce responds. “Cass, you and I will go. I’ll distract him and while he’s busy yelling at me, you’ll sneak up behind him and inject him with a tranquilizer.”

The mute nods and the Megamycete wishes it has a mouth so it can scream. Not only is it offensive that they believe you are stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trick, but that they believe they have the right to decide something like this on your behalf.

If they have failed to realize that you want nothing to do with them after you have yelled it at them, perhaps they will understand if it tells so itself.

And it knows the perfect form to take.

He stands up from the chair and makes his way to the armory where they keep the tranquilizers meant for the larger criminals, like Bane and Killer Croc.

He hates the thought of using such methods against you, but you’ve made it clear you aren’t going to come back to Gotham willingly and the discovery of this mysterious mold inside you has forced their hand.

Nevertheless, improvisation is one of their many skills, a requirement in their line of work. Once they have you back home, they’ll be able to conduct more in-depth tests and be able to find out what’s wrong with you and go from there.

As much as he hates the idea of you possibly being in pain and may even be in danger, he can’t deny there’s a small inside him that’s glad this has happened. This discovery accelerates their plans and will have you brought home far sooner.

And, there’s the chance that this mold may explain most of your hatred towards them. Sure, he knows you have every right to despise them, but when he saw the look in your eye when you pushed him down that night of the award ceremony. He could tell you enjoyed inflicting pain on him.

This stuff in you must’ve made your temper more volatile and made you lash out at them.

It’s the only explanation.

“Excuse us,” a familiar voice calls throughout the cave, stoping his dead in his tracks.

That voice… No, it can’t be. There’s no way…

He turns around to see you, standing in the cave, all of them looking right at you. The small smile on your face making the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“We believe there are some things we should talk about,” you say as you walk closer to them, making his children back up with each step you take.

“No fucking way,” Jason remarks, his eyes wide as saucers.

“Wait,” Tim says as he rushes over to the computer and rapidly types on the keyboard. “You can’t be Y/N. His phone says he’s still in Goodsprings and we’ve been monitoring his GPS signal, so there’s no way you could’ve come all the way to Gotham from Nevada without us knowing!”

That’s right, they’ve been monitoring your phone ever since Alfred helped them remember you, tracking you every move and committing your searches, social media usage, and all your texts and phone calls. They would’ve done the same to your computers that are linked to your phone, but your cybersecurity is tougher than they anticipated (clearly custom) and they haven’t been able to crack the encryption.

He knew you were skilled at making videos games, but he didn’t know your skills with technology expanded into cybersecurity. Ever since they made that discovery, Tim’s spent nearly all day trying to pierce your firewalls, but hasn’t made any progress. He’s also made it clear he wants to have lengthy conversations on computers and programming with you once you’re back home.

So, you’re still in Goodsprings, so who the hell is this, why the hell would they take your form, and how the hell did they get into the Cave without setting off any of the dozens of alarms or sensors?

“Who are you” Damian hisses, taking a defensive posture. “And what gives you the right to assume the form of my brother?”

“You have some nerve calling him your brother,” the Not-You hisses back, the smile morphing into an all-too familiar snarl. “He is too good for you, for any of you.”

Even though he knows this isn’t you, hearing those words in your voice still hurts him.

“Do you know Master Y/N,” Alfred interjects, trying to bring tensions down, most likely so he can learn more from this person.

“Yes, we do,” Not-You responds, looking at the butler, the snarl morphing into a look of… admiration? “And we know you, Alfred Pennyworth. We know of you and how you helped him during his stay in this wretched mansion. You have our gratitude.”

“Look, whoever you are, stop taking Y/N’s form,” Steph exclaims. “You’re obviously a shapeshifter, so turn back to normal! Or the very least, take a different form!”

“Oh, do you all wish for us to take another form,” the Not-You asks, a ghost of a smirk gracing “your” face.

“Yes,” Bruce says without hesitation.

It’s bad enough to see you look at them with such hatred, he won’t tolerate some imposter doing the same thing.

“Very well.”

Before them all, the Not-You turns into a shifting mass of some type of black organic mass before taking on a humanoid shape once again and Bruce’s heart stops when he takes in the new form.

“Hello, Bruce,” the shapeshifter says in a voice he hasn’t heard in years.

Not since that fateful night in Crime Alley.

“Good God,” Alfred says, his eyes wide and his jaw practically on the floor.

In front of them is his mother, every detail exactly how she was that night, still adorned in her favorite pearl necklace and wearing her green dress.

As he stares at her looking at him with those eyes that use to look at him with nothing less than unconditional love, he feels his breathing start to become erratic and eyes begin to mist up.

“What’s wrong, Bruce,” the shapeshifter says in her voice (god, even her voice was exactly how he remembered) as they begin to walk towards him, making him step back. “I thought you would be happy to see me. It has been so long since I was killed.”

“No,” he says, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “You’re not her. You can’t be.”

“But I am. Do you not see? I know everything you have done.” His mother’s face then morphs into a disgusted snarl, making him sick to his stomach. “And I am absolutely disgusted in you! Why did we have to die that night? Why not the disgrace we once called our son!”

He knows this isn’t his mother and she never would’ve called him a disgrace, but hearing those words in a voice he’s longed to hear for so long makes him want to cry.

He’s had dreams of seeing his mother’s in the flesh again and now he has to endure this berating? Is he truly that horrible of a man to deserve this?

“Stop it, you bitch,” Jason exclaims as he steps between Bruce and the shapeshifter. “Take another form or get the fuck outta here!”

“Oh, you want us to another form?” His… the shapeshifter shifts once again and in his mother’s place is…

“Hiya, Dead Hood,” Joker exclaims before exclaiming in that all-too familiar cackle and waving around a crow bar in his hand. “Did you miss me?”

It doesn’t take a detective to notice Jason tense up and his breathing stop; Joker left a mark on Jason that unfortunately will never be erased (another shortcoming that eats away at Bruce everyday) and whenever news of Joker escaping Arkham would bring up all the anger, fear, and sadness that was planted in Jason that night he died.

After Joker was killed, he noticed a weight seemed to be lifted off of Jason’s shoulders. Sure, he made jokes about the clown burning in hell, but Bruce could see he was genuinely happy and was ready to move on form that horrible chapter in his life.

And now, all that trauma is about to be dug back up after four years.

“You have five fucking seconds to take another form before I beat the shit outta you,” Jason says in a tone that says he means business, his eyes flickering into that shade of Lazarus green.

“How about this form,” the shapeshifter says in Joker’s voice before changing into John Grayson, making Dick tense up. “Or this form?” John Grayson then shifts into Janet Drake, making Tim tense up.

“Alright, you made your point,” Barbara shouts. “Just turn back into Y/N.”

And with that, the shapeshifter takes your form again.

“Who are you,” Bruce growls, pissed that his sons have had their trauma jabbed at. “We know you’re not Y/N, but you know him and us.”

You may call us the Megamycete.”

“Megamycete,” Tim asks. “So, you’re not human?”

“No, we are a super colony of mold given sentience via a Lazarus Pit.”

“Of course a fucking pit’s involved,” Jason mutters.

“What’s your tie to Y/N,” Dick interjects.

“Y/N is our host. Before, we were confined to a cavern beneath this city, but when we joined with him, we were freed from our prison.”

“So, you’re using him.”

The Megamycete glares at Bruce for his accusation.

“No, he and us operate on mutual trust and respect. Y/N is a respectable young man.” A smirk appears on “your” face. “A trait he clearly did not inherent from you.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Even though this thing is probably the reason why you feel so much hate towards them, it still pains him to know this is his reality.

“Were you responsible for the Joker’s death,” Steph chimes in. “We found weird strains of mold in his remains and you’re a walking, talking pile of mold.”

“While we are not directly responsible for the Joker’s death, we do not deny we were involved. That night, Y/N took us out to Amusement Mile to celebrate when we learned the Joker was sighted in an arcade. Upon seeing the many deaths left in his wake, our host took matters into his own hands and eliminated the biggest threat this city had ever seen.” It gives Bruce a wide smirk. “In a single night, our host did more to help Gotham than you and your brood have done in years.”

Knowing you were responsible for killing Joker didn’t sit well with him. Sure, he’d accepted that Joker’s games were only going to end with one or both of them being dead a long time ago, but knowing that you, his son, had killed him…

“What about Harley,” Dick asks, breaking Bruce out of his thoughts. “He killed her too?”

“She forced his hand. He had no choice.”

“What do you mean he had no choice,” Dick shouts. “Did you force him?”

“Do not be stupid,” it says, glaring at his first son. “Our host was in complete control of his actions that night. We no more control his actions than you. The woman was a lost cause, without Joker to keep her in line, she would have punished all of Gotham as retribution for the loss of her love. Also, she would have informed you of him, causing you to devote all your resources to finding him. In order to both save Gotham from her wrath and himself from your scrutiny, Harley had to die.”

No, this thing has to be lying. There’s no way you, one of his sons, could ever rationalize killing someone. It had to have forced you to kill them. It had to…

“How did you even find Y/N,” Damian interjects.

Upon being asked that question, it smiles. And not a normal smile, but a smile that says it knows something they don’t know and something tells Bruce he’s not going to like it.

“He was thrown into our cavern after being left for dead.”

Bruce hears the words, but they just don’t process.

You were… left for dead? When? How?

“It was four years ago, while the butler was on his vacation. That day, his boss was forced to retire due to Gotham’s high crime, so he was forced to find another bus stop within Crime Alley as he had no other way of returning here, where he was unfortunately captured by three thugs and takes to a cabin in the nearby forest. They intended to ransome him off for a high price due to his school uniform.”

You were held hostage? Why didn’t you call for them? For him?

He knows you have no reason to think he’d help you with homework, but surely you’d call him if you were ever—

Just then, memories from that time frame kick in.

Random…

Phone call…

Oh… Oh no…

“Since the butler was out of the country, he actually reached out and gave the thugs the phone number for this manor.”

He so desperately wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“You said all your children were with you and you all laughed and mocked the leader of the thugs.”

He sees all his children tense up at the realization and Alfred looks at him to see if it was true. Based on the butler’s look of shock and disbelief, he knows it’s the truth.

“The one time he reaches out to you for help, you laugh and mock. He needed you and you failed him in the worst way possible.”

He remembers that night. He thought it was so stupid that someone would think he wouldn’t know when one of his kids were missing. He said all his children were with him and meant it.

God, he really is the worst, isn’t he?

“After that phone call, the leader took all his frustrations out on our host, beating him until he could cry out for mercy no longer before shooting him in the head.”

He wants to cry when the image of you being beat up enters his head, and based on the way he flinches, so does Jason, who looks like he wants to cry.

Alfred looks like he’s ready to go nuclear and Bruce doesn’t blame him. Hearing all this years later and he had no idea what happened just proves he was never worthy of being your father.

“He was on the brink of death and had he not accepted our offer to become our host, he would be dead and the world would have been deprived of a brilliant mind.”

The thought of you dying brings a brunch of thoughts to the surface.

How long would it had taken him to notice you were missing?

How would he reacted upon learning you were dead?

Chances are your body would’ve never been found and all there would be to remember you by would be a tombstone with your name in the Wayne Cemetery. Hell, you’ve made it clear you want nothing to do with the Wayne name, so you probably would’ve never agreed to be buried with the rest of the Waynes.

“Our joining restored him to full health and gave him access to many powers, including our records.”

“Records,” Tim asks, clearly interested in this.

“We have existed for four-hundred years, our roots expanding towards every corner of this city. As our roots touched those buried beneath the ground, not only have we watched the goings-on of Gotham, but we absorbed the memories, knowledge, and structure of the deceased. As horrible as the city is, it has attracted many brilliant minds, like artists, scientists, engineers, and many more. He has access to the knowledge of these people, making him one of the smartest humans alive.” It chuckles. “In fact, many of your employees are in our records and he used this knowledge to get revenge on you, selling the secrets of your company to Lex Luthor for a tidy sum.”

You were the one who did that? He’s been racking his brain and reviewing network logs to find any sort of security breach and it was you using the remains of his dead employees.

“Alright, so that solves a lot of mysteries,” Dick interjects. “But that still leaves one: why are you here?”

“We have been by our host’s since that fateful night, peering through his memories and seeing the world through his eyes. Ever since he was forced to move to Gotham, none of you ever made him feel welcome here. For years, he wanted nothing more than to return to his rightful home, where he knew nothing but love. Now, after four years since his departure from this wretched manor, you appear, one after another, trying to bring him back to a place he despises more than anywhere else. We wish to know why.”

“He’s my son,” Bruce answers, not liking what this thing has to say.

“He’s family,” Dick adds. “Of course we’d want him back.”

“But none of you have ever made him feel that way. And if you are honest with yourselves, you never saw him as one of your own. You only want him because you feel guilty about how you treated him, and that guilt is making you believe you are owed a second chance. And you seek to obtain that second chance, no matter how much harm it does to him.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re taking about,” Jason exclaims, clearly getting more and more pissed. “Yeah, we fucked up! But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a part of this fucked up family!”

“He was never a part of this family. We know for a fact that he wishes he could take out the Wayne DNA and return it.”

“That’s because you’re manipulating him,” Damian interjects. “Nothing will change the fact that he’s my blood brother.”

“It is funny you say that when the last interaction you had with him was a fight.” It lifts hits arm and manifests a gold pen in its hand. “Do you remember this? This is the pen you tried to steal from him and then threw out into the rain when he gave you a much deserved slap upside your head. Do you know the significance of this item to our host?”

Bruce gets the feeling that he’s not going to like why that pen is so important to you and based off Alfred’s expression, that feeling gets even worse.

“This pen once belonged to his mother, made by her father when she set out to become an author. When she was taken from him, this pen was the only thing he had to remember her by. And you, the arrogant beast that you are, felt you had the right to take this, his most treasured possession, from him.” It turns its gaze from Damian to the rest of them. “And the rest of you supported this irreverent mongrel and condemned our host without listening to him before passing judgment.”

It seems like a day can’t go by that Bruce feels like the scum of the earth; ever since he learned of how he neglected you for years and forgot you even existed, his sense of worth has taken hit after hit. He was thinking about that argument you had with Damian and how furious he was when you refused to obey him not too long ago, thinking how stupid it was for you to cause so much trouble over a simple pen. Now to find out that “simple pen” was the only thing you had to remember your mother by…

It just never ends, does it?

He could spend the rest of his life atoning for everything he’s ever done to you, spend his last dollar to make your wildest dreams come true and he’d never come close to earning your forgiveness.

He knows he’s not the best father for his children, but he was never worthy of being your father and he’s certainly not that now.

“Y/N,” he whispers, knowing this isn’t you, but it has your face, your vice, and your memories, so it’s the next best thing. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He knows tears are falling from his eyes, surprising both Alfred and his children. He doesn’t want them to see him like this, but he can’t help it; the last few days have been one emotional turmoil after another and he’s reached his limits.

He failed his baby in every way possible.

“Now you understand,” it responds as it walks closer to him. “You fulfilled your purpose, Mr. Wayne. You brought Y/N into this world and had him brought to Gotham, where he was delivered into our custody. Now please, do not worry for him, we assure you we will provide him with true happiness. Go on, all you have to do is stay in Gotham and out of our host’s business.”

“Father,” Damian exclaims. “You can’t possibly be considering this!”

“Bruce,” Dick adds. “You aren’t going to actually do it, right?”

“Don’t fuck this up, Bruce,” Jason adds.

“We can’t just give up on him,” Tim adds.

“Yeah, he’s your son,” Barbara adds.

“He’s our brother,” Steph adds.

‘Family doesn’t give up on one another,’ Cass signs.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred warns, clearly not pleased at the thought of giving up on you.

He should, though. He knows that he’ll never be worthy of calling himself your father and you’ve made it clear you hate him and your siblings in every sense of the word. You wanted to go back to your childhood home in Goodsprings, a place that made you feel loved, something his home never made you feel. And the last four years were good to you based off your appearance and success. Plus, you had the Megamycete, that apparently has been more of a family to you than them.

If he was a good person, he’d put your needs and wants ahead of yours and agree to leave you alone and tell his children to do the same. Repeatedly harassing you would only make you hate them more and widen the gap between you and them. You don’t need them and clearly learned how to live without them. Over the past few days, he’s gathered every piece of information about you he can find and from what he sees, you love it in Goodsprings and fully intend on living in the house you and your mother lived.

But he’s not a good person, not by a long shot.

The night his parents were gunned down like animals in that disgusting alley, his sadness had turned into a bright inferno of rage; he wanted to inflict on every criminal that he met every ounce of his never ending vengeance and make them so afraid of him that they refuse to step outside whatever hole they call home, so that no one ever has to lose a child, a parent, a friend, or a loved one to some scumbag with a gun. That was his reason for donning the cowl.

After his parents were taken from him, he made it his mission to never lose anything of his ever again and two things that he holds dear more than anything in this world are Gotham and his family. And as long as he’s breathing, he’ll hold onto those two things until the bitter end.

Is it possible that in his mission to protect his city from Arkham’s inmates have made him forget the little details? Of course, Gotham needs Bruce Wayne as much as it needs Batman.

Is it possible that his need to hold onto his children with an iron grip has made him lose them on multiple occasions? Absolutely, he’s constantly remembering that his children are their own people and that even though they may leave him, they’ll always come home.

And that’s what his situation is with you. He knows he fucked up with you and he can never undo the damage he’s done to you, it doesn’t change the fact that you are his blood, his son, his firstborn.

You belonged to him the moment you were born and there’s nothing that can change that. He wishes he could go back in time and accept the gift of your affection that his past self spurred, but he can’t (his time as a Justice League member has taught him that going back in time is more trouble than it’s worth) and his only option is to move forward and make you see that the only place in this world for you is with him and your siblings here in Gotham, a city that has and always will belong to the Waynes.

And right now, this Megamycete is an obstacle standing in his way of completing his family. And if there’s one thing Bruce is very good at over the years, it’s overcoming obstacles.

“No.”

“Pardon,” it says, confusion etched onto its face.

“No,” he says loudly, making it clear he has no intention on letting you go. “Y/N is my son and their brother. He belongs here, with me and his family, not in some backwater town with some sentient mushroom. We’ll find a way to bring him back here and separate the two of you. And when we do, he’ll have all the time in the world to realize this is where he needs to be. Once he realizes that, all of Gotham will celebrate his return.”

He looks around and sees not only does his family seem happy with that statement, but they think the same as him.

The Megamycete looks at him, silent, seemingly shocked at his statement.

Then, it begins to laugh. First, just soft chuckles, then a laugh so loud, it echoes off the walls of the cave.

“Our host was right, you have clearly lost what sanity you had left. You reject him for years and now that you realize your folly, you seek to make amends? Please, spare us your delusions. This has nothing to do with our host and everything to do with your guilt. The moment you feel absolved, you will return to the status quo and forget he exists.” It motions to his children. “You have plenty of children here to drown in your need for forgiveness, surely you can make do with one of them.”

Then, it leans closer towards him, a smug look adorning its face.

“Also, Y/N belongs to us. He has the moment he fell into our cavern and will continue to until the end of time. Attempt to take him from us and you will suffer the same fate as those three thugs who left him for dead.”

It’s then another mystery gets solved: the slaughter at My Alibi. The three men in the back of the dining room who looked like they had gone through a meat grinder. That was your doing and they had been the ones to kidnap you and leave you for dead.

While he never advocates for killing people, he’s more than happy to make an exception for them. If they tried to kill you, they deserved to be slaughtered.

He only wishes they were still alive so he could pay them a visit before being turned over to Red Hood.

“We’ve fought plenty of Metas in the past. Do you really think you’ll be any different?”

“We have the knowledge and wisdom of countless people over the course of four-hundred years, all of them at the disposal of our host. You still think of him as that timid little thing from all those years ago, but he has become so much more since our joining. You believe yourselves superior than the rest of the general population, but you will find our host far surpasses you in every respect. He also possesses one thing your past adversaries never will.”

“And what’s that?”

“Unbridled hatred towards you.”

He wants to laugh at that. This thing must not have watched too carefully if it thinks people like Joker, Penguin, Poison Ivy, and so many in Arkham don’t hate his guts. He’s spent years being cursed at by all of Gotham’s rogues and beating all of the Riddler’s countless murder attempts to know Batman is at the top of many people’s Most Hated lists.

“If you don’t think half of Arkham doesn’t have dart boards with our pictures on them, you’re not as smart as you think you are,” Steph mocks.

“We do not doubt the genuine animosity the inmates hold towards you, but they are too far gone to imagine a life without any of you; you have foiled many of their crimes so many times, it has become one of the few constants in their lives. Every time they are put back in Arkham, they devote their time to coming up with their next attempt to best you until it is the only thing they care about. If any one of them were to ever defeat you, they would eventually realize how empty their lives are without you and their victory would soon sour.

“Joker would be a perfect example of this as he was as obsessed with you as you were of him.”

As much as he hates to admit it, the talking pile of mold is right. The clown made it clear that as much as he hated Batman, he was just as obsessed with him, going as far as to go after any criminal that took up too much of his time, Harley included in that.

And Bruce was just as obsessed with Joker, coming up with countless contingencies to counter any plot his sick and twisted mind could come up with, as well as devising security protocols and measures for Arkham to keep him contained and treatment plans to find a way possible bring his sanity back (assuming he had any to begin with).

“But our host is not like them. He has longed for a life free of you lot and now that he has that, he has no intention of surrendering it. Attempt to force him to return to this wretched manor and he will be more than happy to bring his fantasies of killing you a reality.”

He knows you hate them, but hearing that you hate them enough to fantasize about killing them cuts him deep.

“Please, I tried to kill Tim and Bruce back when I returned to Gotham,” Jason mocks, but Bruce can see Jason’s obviously concerned about hearing you thinking about killing them. “And Damian took a few tries at Tim. Everyone in this fucked up family’s got anger issues, it’s nothing weird.”

“You are kidding yourself if you believe you and that monster can a hold a candle to his fury. Your so-called anger is nothing more than a candle compared to the inferno that is his rage. You will feel the full might of his righteous fury, which will swallow you whole and leave nothing behind. And when you all are dead, you will be denied entry into our records.”

“So you don’t plan to absorb us,” Dick asks.

“Our host is the one who made that decision. To be added to our records is to be a part of us, and to be a part of us is to be a part of our host. He refuses to have you in his life in any way.” A small smile etches across its face. “We agree with his way of thinking. When you are gone, there will be nothing left and the world will forget any of you ever existed. And that is when our host’s revenge will finally be complete.”

It takes everything Bruce has to not flinch.

With this… thing inside you, what are you capable of? Would you really attack them with intent to kill? Would you really murder your own family?

“Make all the threats you want, creature,” Damian boldly states. “Nothing will stop us from bringing Y/N home.”

“Then this concludes our meeting, we suppose. We had hoped that we could convince you the best thing for you and our host would be to leave him alone and let the past rest, but we see now you all are too deep into your delusions to see reason. We look forward to seeing our host tear you apart, bit by bit.”

In the blink of an eye, the Megamycete turns bone white and crumbles like chalk, scattering all over the floor, leaving them all to stare at the remains in silence.

“So,” Alfred says, breaking the silence. “Was anyone ever going to tell me about a call regarding a random?”

The tension becomes so think, Bruce thinks he’ll start to choke on it. He racks his brain to come up with any answer, but doesn’t find any. At lease not one that won’t make Alfred pissed.

Clearly his children came to the same conclusion, because they remained silent as well, looking away or at the floor when he met their gaze.

“I have to say out of all the disgraceful things all of you have done throughout the years, this definitely takes the cake. I know Master Y/N wasn’t a priority for any of you, but I never would’ve dreamed you would allow him to be put in danger like being held hostage by common thugs.” Every word he says is dripping in venom. “I am absolutely disgusted with all of you.”

The words cut him deep and he deserves it. It was thanks to his incompetence that led to you being kidnapped, beaten to a pulp, shot in the head, and tossed into a cavern like trash and left for dead in a place no one would ever find you.

There’s nothing he can do that will ever make up for all that he’s done to you. He can apologize until he loses his voice permanently, spend all his money to buy you apology gifts, and subject himself to whipping by your hand until he’s lost every bit of his skin and he’d never scratch the surface of everything he’s done to you.

You came to him, a scared little child who just lost his mother and was forced to move to a massive city to live with a man he’s never met and all you wanted was for him to tell you that he loved you and that everything was going to be alright, but no, he was too caught up in his work as Batman instead of finding a healthy way of dealing with losing Jason.

But that’s not all he did, was it?

As much as he wants to, he can’t deny that he replaced you with Tim after the boy lost his parents. He suffered the same loss as you, but he gave Tim the help he needed while denying it to you. But that’s his fault, not Tim’s. His inadequacies are his alone to deal with, not any of his children’s (a lesson he keeps forgetting).

And he did the same thing several more times, bringing in more children and giving them all the love and affection you were denied as a child. He can’t help but wonder what went through your mind as you saw him spending time with them, both in groups and individually. And when you watched them hanging out in the dining room when they came home from patrol, enjoying themselves and each other while you were left alone in some room barely the size of a closet.

God, how many times did you wonder when you’d be asked to join before giving up?

When exactly did you give up on them?

And of course, he can’t forget about how he handled you and Damian meeting, another sign he was never fit to be a father. He knew Damian’s LoA upbringing left him unable to interact with others the proper way, but he still allowed him to see you (because he never considered your safety a priority) and allowed the boy to draw a sword on you, give you a scar on your face, and make several threats on you and insult your mother.

And what did he do after that?

Did he do the responsible thing by taking away the sword, scold the boy for his unacceptable behavior, and make it clear you were his brother and that he’s not allowed to hurt you?

No, of course not.

He did nothing but carry Damian off while allowing him to shout even more threats and insults, thinking nothing about the harm you just experienced and thinking Damian would just outgrow of his behavior on his own.

If he had to guess, it was probably that day you realized you didn’t matter to him and that Damian was the only one he considered a biological son.

Y/N, his baby boy.

He’s so sorry.

“This doesn’t change anything,” Bruce finally says, making his family turn their eyes to him. “We still need to bring Y/N home. Meeting this Megamycete just makes it more important we get him back to the manor.”

“And if Master Y/N fights you? Based off what you were able to gather from both crime scenes, this Megamycete appears to make him a formidable opponent.”

“We can find a way to neutralize it,” Tim chimes in, motioning to the crumbled remains. “I’ll analyze the remains to find a weakness.”

“And if that’s not enough, it said it has roots all over Gotham,” Barbara adds. “I can use the Clocktower to locate the closest sample.”

“Say you manage to subdue Master Y/N and rid him of the Megamycete. What then?”

“Then we make it clear he’s a part of our family now. And we’ll keep telling him that until he believes it. And when he does, we’ll give him the love we should have given him.”

Alfred looks at him before glancing at his children, all of them nodding in agreement.

“I shall hold all of you to that promise. We have a second chance to right our wrongs. I highly doubt we’ll be given another. But don’t think for a second this conversation is over.”

And with that, the butler turns on his heel and promptly makes his way out of the cave, clearly still furious at them.

“Alright, everyone,” he says, getting their attention. “We have work to do. Barbara, get to the Clocktower and start searching for the Megamycete’s roots. Tim, start analyzing the remains and see what you can find. And be ready to receive new samples. The rest of you, be ready to go out and retrieve the roots.”

They nod and set out to work, leaving him with his thoughts.

Fuck, after hearing all that, his mother probably sees him as a failure now. He had so many opportunities to make this right, but he being the complete and total fuck up that he is, missed them, leaving you all alone to fall into the hands of low-life thugs and a sentient mushroom.

He balls his fists so tight so tight he draws blood, but not caring at the pain or the drops of crimson falling onto the cave floor.

All he had to do was be there for you, love you, tell you he’d always be there for you, but he couldn’t do that. When he first learned of you, he was shocked to hear that he had actually been stupid enough to not take precautions to prevent getting a woman pregnant and actually thought you were an inconvenience, blaming you for something that wasn’t your fault. You hadn’t asked to be born, you didn’t ask to lose your mother in such a tragic way, and you sure as hell didn’t ask to be given to a man who had no right to be called a father.

He—

No, this line of thinking isn’t doing him any favors.

He takes a deep breath and releases it, throwing all his thoughts and emotions into a dark corner of his mind and locking them behind a massive door (like he always does instead of dealing with them in a healthy way). He’s done the same thing to so many other thoughts and feelings, what’s the harm in doing it now?

What he needs to do now is find a way to deal with a Megamycete and figuring out a method of getting close to you to administer it so they can bring you back home. While that’s already an uphill battle, the true war will be convincing you that they’ve changed and that you need to come back to the manor and live with them.

You’re his son and the brother to his children. And as much as you want to deny it, you have Wayne blood coursing through your veins, tying you to him and Gotham. You belong here, by his side.

And when this is over, he’ll throw the largest gala Gotham’s ever seen to show his love for you.

He’ll do whatever it takes if it means having you back home so h and your siblings can bathe you in their love and affection.

Even if it means taking away your powers and dragging you back here.

Like he said, he’s not a good person.

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sorryimananti-romantic · 1 month ago

Text

The Leaders | Chapter I

"this is the underworld that no one escapes from."

masterlist

ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au

chapter warnings: mentions of violence, gangs, drinking, shooting, near-death experience, illegal businesses, seonghwa and yunho are major assholes in this chap, san and yeosang have warmed up, mention of killing, etc

chapter wc: 9.8k

chapter synopsis: it is the year 1970 in eden when an attack on the crescent bar prompts you, the bookkeeper, to carry out yeosang’s order and flee with the contents of the safe. however, you are unlucky to have discovered an unknown, suspicious package that sentences you to an early death. left with no choice, you reveal secrets about the underworld to the crescents and their underboss that even they are not aware of. will this gamble prove to be fruitful?

It was very easy to get lost in the liveliness of the Crescent Bar. Despite being stationed away from the heart of it all, you often found yourself distracted by the chatter of a couple who would occasionally pop in for a drink, the hushed whispers of a group of men who would be looking over their shoulders every few minutes, the hearty laughter that would suddenly fill the hall and spread warmth in its wake, or simply, a lone traveller who would be swaying to the light music that you were actually sick of hearing but didn’t have the heart to complain about.

It was now second nature to jot in an observation or record transactions on an hourly basis, just like it was natural for you to take over the cashier’s place so the poor girl could take a break and move around. You no longer felt your hair rise every time you overheard a piece of information that you knew Yeosang or San would like to hear, nor did you feel your pores opening to release sweat every time they glanced your way– just like San did now, just having entered the bar and sent his trademark flirty smile in your direction.

“Restock champagne on table two, right away!”

“On the way!” You shouted instead of the new girl who was currently finding it hard to multitask. You didn’t have to worry about a thing– Yuju, the head of staff, noticed everything as if she had eyes in every corner of the bar. She would make sure to let the girl know that she was doing well with an encouraging pat to her back.

“They’re going to empty our inventory tonight,” Eunbi shared a grin with you. “We’re going to have to check the stock again.”

“I’ll take that– ask Jeonghan to wake the hell up and make sure we don’t run out,” you requested, sliding over to the cash register and typing in the latest entry, marking it with today’s date of 3rd April, 1970. Eunbi urged the waiters to speed up before rushing to the empty table at the left corner of the bar where Jeonghan was resting. She delivered the message with a smack and Jeonghan, who was never really asleep but just had a knack for pretending that he found the loud and bustling atmosphere of the bar relaxing, groggily walked across the hall to the door that led downstairs to check stock- or to get an actual nap. You would find that out later.

“Luna,” San greeted you with your nickname and you nodded in greeting– the nickname stuck with you after Jeonghan once called you Luna. Everyone started calling you by that name afterwards but only a handful knew it was short for lunatic and you intended to keep it that way.

You had no desire to use your real name anyway.

“Busy night?” San slid on the stool not far from you, Eunbi passing him a sweet smile before she started to pour Black Shadow for him- a staple of the Crescent Bar as the only supplier of the famous and well-loved Utopian wine in all of Eden. San swirled the red wine in his glass casually before downing it in one gulp and Eunbi refilled it before passing the bottle to you, going to attend to more pressing matters than one of the owners casually lounging to chat.

“Kind of,,” you turned to grab yourself a glass and San poured the wine for you. The clinking of your glasses echoed even in your loud surroundings and you took a sip, taking in his appearance- you assumed he must be returning from business since he was wearing a formal black suit, though he ditched his coat at the entrance. The white sleeves were rolled up, revealing his sturdy forearms with a thick silver watch on his left wrist and a silver band on his index finger- one you had never seen him without.

Your eyes travelled up to his face- tendrils of slick hair falling on his forehead. Choi San was one of the most attractive men you had ever seen, and hardly anyone could deny that.

The problem was that perhaps, he really did not realise how painfully attractive he was. The man was far too humble for his own good, despite being one of the most dangerous and powerful men in Eden.

“Heard something interesting of late?” He inquired routinely. It was always a bit more casual with him as compared to Yeosang. Yeosang was the boss around here, yes, but San was the one who kept things under control. The pair of them worked together very harmoniously and you admired that, even though you had qualms about whatever they were doing- whatever you thought they were doing. Almost two years here and you still had no idea just what it was that their gang did.

Gang, you called them though they preferred ‘organisation’. The cops preferred ‘criminal organisation’ but you supposed it was just semantics at this point. Their name was Ateez- you never heard that term directly from any of their mouths, but even a child recognised that name and knew to avoid them- or avoid trouble with them.

But officially, they were the Crescent Company, owner of the Crescent Bar and other businesses in Eden.

“Just politics,” you finished the rest of your drink, adjusting the lone pearl ring on your right hand. “Everyone’s a little antsy with what happened at the protest. They think it’s Assemblyman General Wi’s gang.”

“General Wi would never interfere like that, though,” San scoffed in amusement- perhaps he genuinely found the idea of a man like Major General Wi resorting to dirty means hilarious. “He’s far too smart for that.”

“He is,” you had to agree. “But who else to blame? Only someone from the military would dislike people protesting against martial law. There’s only one candidate for presidency who’s got influence in the army. They think General Wi’s success in the elections would mean the army would control the state.”

“Isn’t the army somewhat controlling the state already, though?” San pondered. “President Lee has ties with the army too.”

You may have gotten used to interacting with the most feared gang in Eden, but the mention of President Lee still made you shiver involuntarily. San had noticed it one too many times and though he hadn’t asked for an explanation, you were sure you would lack the words to describe this sentiment anyway. “President Lee… cannot be controlled by the army, or anyone for that matter. General Wi may be smart but he’s still easily influenced when met with someone of a higher status- that’s what I heard,” you added the last bit hoping it wouldn’t sound like a personal opinion.

San raised a brow at your comment- you often tried (and failed) to mask your personal opinions under the guise of news but whenever you shared something, he made sure to listen- and listen beneath what your words tried to cover up. He often found your opinions and predictions regarding politics holding some weight and he wasn’t quite sure if you were subconsciously very observant or purposely pretending to be unaware. He once asked you how you knew so much but when you didn’t discuss any information with him for a few weeks, he took the hint. You only reported officially to Yeosang and he could bet you found it easier to talk to him about these things because he wasn’t one to probe.

“Keep me updated,” San said and you nodded. “Yeosang must be inside?”

“He’s actually in Room no. 1- he has visitors.”

“Visitors?” San frowned. “Who?”

“Lieutenant Jeong and co.,” you said and San shook his head at the way you so formally addressed the man. He had told you before that no one ever referred to him as the ‘lieutenant’ but you didn’t know how else to refer to him. “I was in the office earlier so they decided to take the room.”

“That’s okay, I’ll pop in there,” he grabbed a handful of nuts from the counter before walking to the backside of the bar, disappearing in the shadows as he reached the VIP area. You took a deep breath, your mind once again wandering to the ‘guest’.

Lieutenant Jeong Yunho was not a guest here at all. He belonged here. If you thought Choi San was intimidating, you were wrong. You still recalled the first time you saw him right outside the bar, all roughed up, wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve but not a single scratch on him while a group of men around him writhed on the floor, clutching their mangled limbs. He met your eyes and your heart sank in the worst way possible- worse than the moment you were disowned by your own father. It was simply fear, and you hated feeling fear. You made up your mind to avoid him from then on but there was only so much you could do when you worked at the place he owned.

Oftentimes he came into the bar in the late hours of the night after wrapping up things in the main office and sat right where San had been sitting earlier in front of you, drinking the strongest wine available in silence- perhaps to sort his thoughts out. He didn’t mind you sitting near him and doing your paperwork, and you didn’t make him feel uncomfortable unlike the others who could not stop stealing glances at him- it wasn’t that you didn’t want to, but you simply could not. You didn’t want him to find out what kind of an effect he had on you.

Especially when he had the warmest laughter and his entire demeanour shifted around his comrades. It intrigued you because he felt like two different persons in one vessel. That was the only time you would allow yourself to steal glances at him- when he was distracted enough. Otherwise you didn’t dare look at him in fear that he might find something about you that you had been struggling to hide all your life.

Eunbi came back after serving a group of guests, whispering, “This one table- they were awfully quiet when I went to serve them. I don’t know if it’s because they’ve got some gossip they don’t want anyone to hear or if they’re going to try something stupid.”

You looked at her- Eunbi’s instincts were usually spot-on. “Which table?”

“Over there,” she glanced at the corner and sure enough, the group of four was already looking in your direction. You pretended to be unaffected, asking her to take over the register. While casually strolling towards the door that led to the basement at the other end of the hall, you passed their table, noticing how they resumed talking only after you were out of earshot.

Something was up. You went downstairs to see Jeonghan napping on the couch.

“Oi,” you poked his thigh and he stirred, opening an eye. You knew he wasn’t really asleep- he wasn’t one to let his guard down, but you supposed he could have his moments of peace. “Stock?”

“Enough for tonight but I’ll place an order for tomorrow before we leave,” he said. “What’s up?”

“There’s a group at table seven. Four young men, armed with guns, awfully quiet and jumpy. Care to take a look?”

“They could have just lost a bet. They might be collecting the remnants of their pride- you tend to do that in silence,” Jeonghan mused.

“Yeah, well, I’d rather you make sure,” you said. “Lieutenant Jeong is here. They’d be stupid to try anything- anything at all, even if it’s just throwing a tantrum.”

“Ah,” Jeonghan got up and smoothened his long dark hair. “I suppose I’ll ask them if they require a better drink to down their shame.”

“Whatever,” you sniggered before going back to your position upstairs. You watched Jeonghan don his jacket as he entered the floor and he looked around, meeting eyes with the group and you both noticed two things-

That their hands went to their hip where the weapons rested, and that they exchanged quick glances with each other. Jeonghan looked at you and you shook your head, urging him to skip the plan and alert the others- it might be an attempt at robbery or worse, but they were so stupid to do that, especially tonight.

“You’ve restocked their drinks?” You asked Eunbi.

“They just ordered another, Soojin is going to refill their drinks-”

“The new girl?” You shook your head, “She’s been jumpy all night. Stop her, right now. They’re armed, they might do something stupid-”

Before you could finish the sentence or Eunbi could carry out your order, the loud shatter of glass made you both flinch and hold on to each other as you ducked, splinters raining down on you and making you both hiss in pain when some of them met your skin. You tucked Eunbi closer before you raised your head over the counter to assess the situation-

Chaos was the word. Eunbi had been right to be suspicious- the men were now pointing guns at whoever dared to move and another gunshot sounded followed by a guttural yell of the waiter whose arm took the blow. You met eyes with Soojin who stood frozen in the middle of the room and you motioned for her to stay that way.

“No one move!” One of the men shouted, wide eyes relaying the threat. “I’ll shoot you if you move!”

“I’m going to take the register and go to the office,” you whispered to Eunbi who shook her head furiously.

“It’s too dangerous- they’ll shoot you,” Eunbi held your arms in panic but you pried her hands away, squeezing them assuringly.

“I’ll be fine- they won’t spot me. I have to hurry,” you told her and before she could insist, you started crawling away from her, keeping close to the wall and moving towards the backside of the bar, avoiding the shards of glass as best as you could. You had orders to follow- orders Yeosang trusted you would follow at a time like this. You could not disappoint him now after everything he had done for you.

The office was the nearest room from where you sat crouched and if you made a dash for it, you could probably go unnoticed- if the instigators didn’t catch movement from the corner of their eyes. They were too busy forcing the customers to line up against the walls so you could take this chance-

Without thinking any further, you gathered the material of your skirt and thanked the lord that you wore boots instead of your usual heels today as you took a few large steps to disappear into the shadows, now successfully out of their vision. You silently unlocked the door and entered the empty office, taking a deep breath once inside, the adrenaline rush making your head spin. After stealing just a few seconds to calm down, you opened the drawers to make sure nothing of importance was there and then you bent down to access the locker under the desk-

The locker of which you had the key to all this time, but never once checked the contents of. You remembered when Yeosang promoted you from cashier to bookkeeper and told you that not all their transactions were legal- you just had to keep a record and stay shut about it. That, you could do. You kept the key on you at all times, and you took it out from the inside of your skirt’s waistband, unlocking the safe and gathering the two registers and a small packet wrapped way too much to figure out what it held inside. You held the things close to your chest as you made your way out, peeking first to see if the commotion had moved away from your eyeshot.

You took a turn to the narrow space at your right that led to the back exit, but that was not your destination- the room at the end of that corridor had a passageway that led to another exit in the alley. You slowed down at the sound of footsteps and you wondered if they were coming from right behind you-

Before you knew it, you were being pulled inside the room with a twirl that ended up with your back slamming against the wall, a gasp producing from your lips and freezing midway when you realised just who had pinned you against the wall-

Lieutenant Jeong. And he did not look pleased.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Carrying out orders,” you breathed, realising just how tall and broad he was now that he was in front of you, bending to reach your height. You clutched the registers tighter reflexively, your left wrist still in his strong grip. “I’ve been instructed to flee with the contents of the safe in case of an attack.”

“By who?”

“Kang Yeosang,” you said, though you figured he already knew the answer. “I have the key.”

The man scanned you slowly as if that would give him all the answers to the questions he wasn’t asking. He knew you were the bookkeeper, but did he not know that Yeosang trusted you enough with this?

The sound of a few rushed footsteps caused him to let go of your wrists and you rubbed the skin there. It was Yuju accompanied by the manager, Mingyu, and they told Yunho that there were more men outside now.

“Did you figure out who’s behind the attack?” Yunho asked.

“Probably Chan’s gang,” Mingyu huffed, looking at you and relaxing when he saw that you were safe. “I’m going back to get the rest of the employees.”

“I’ll stay here and make sure they get out safely,” Yuju nodded, noticing the items you were clutching. “Luna- go. We’ll call you when things settle down.”

You looked at Yunho- though you didn’t need his permission, you knew that he could very well ruin things for you. He didn’t trust you- he had no reason to. He told you to wait and disappeared out of the room and Yuju widened her eyes in confusion.

“I mean… I can understand,” you shrugged. “Is everyone okay back there?”

“I don’t think they knew that Yunho and his lackeys were here,” Yuju folded her arms, hugging herself. “They’re going to regret it. Whoever it is… they’ll make him regret ever coming up with this plan.”

“Even if it was just San and Yeosang, they couldn’t have won,” you said and Yuju agreed. “They both go a little crazy too.”

“But Yunho-” she shivered. “He’s something else.”

Your lips twitched in amusement despite the gravity of the situation and moments later, Johnny- Yunho’s assistant- appeared, looking battered.

“I thought it was a gunfight- why does it look like you were in a catfight?” Yuju commented, slumping down on one of the chairs and Johnny shot her an annoyed look.

“One, I didn’t have a gun on me. Two- they touched my hair!” Johnny huffed and you looked at the man in disbelief, all the impression you had of him going down the drain. Yuju was familiar with Johnny so she didn’t seem very surprised at his childish outburst. “Anyone who messes with my face will get worse in return.”

“Understandable,” you muttered. “Can I go now?”

“Oh, you’re staying here,” Johnny urged you to take a seat. “You’re not going anywhere- Yunho’s orders.”

“Wow, okay,” you sank down on the chair. “And you don’t have a gun? If someone comes here and tries to take these away from me?”

“They’ll have to get past me, you don’t need to worry,” he grinned. “You can relax.”

You could, but you were far too nervous to. You didn’t realise how badly you were rocking your legs until Eunbi entered and you groaned in relief to see she was unscathed. “They almost shot me. I can never get used to this.”

“You will get used to it, one day,” you told her, holding her hands and Eunbi squeezed it with an anxious smile, wondering if that was why you seemed mostly unaffected.

The rest of the employees came one by one in a matter of a few minutes, recovering from the initial shock though it quickly wore off since all of you had experienced something like this at least once- and working in a bar owned by a gang, it was bound to happen anyway. Everyone knew better than to call them a ‘gang’ to their face, though- they had spent years to make their business and organisation legal.

Somewhat legal, you would argue as their bookkeeper who knew that wine wasn’t the only thing being consumed here. Your hand that was clutching the packet in its grip itched in answer and you looked at it in suspicion.

The few new employees like Soojin were definitely in shock and Yuju did her best to calm them down. Johnny was kind enough to crack jokes to lighten the mood and you were glad to see it was working. Some people really were here to make a living and you were sure you were going to lose a few employees after this incident.

The door opened and Yeosang entered, looking unharmed, almost unfazed. He talked with Yuju first in hushed voices- probably something about the damage they would have to deal with. When he spotted you, he smiled and called you over. You got up and followed him outside to the corridor.

“Glad to see someone followed their orders,” he commented.

“I would have gone to that building you’ve told me about but…”

“Yunho stopped you, I know.” He was going in the direction of Room no.1 where he had previously been in with Yunho but when you entered, you found not only San but Park Seonghwa as well, looking as posh as ever.

The underboss of Crescent Company, he was the one person in all of the gang that you truly had respect for- it didn’t matter that Park Seonghwa was a criminal. You had once seen him help a lost child find his mother, and another time seen him carry a cat with a broken leg in his arms, and that had changed everything. Not only you but the whole town was aware that Park Seonghwa was a man that possessed a functioning heart unlike most of the gangsters here.

However, you were soon going to find how wrong you had been.

“Miss Jeon, please, make yourself comfortable,” Seonghwa’s calm voice sounded and you looked at Yeosang instinctively- what was happening? He only smiled though it didn’t quite meet his eyes, pouring you a drink which you downed- you needed it now more than ever.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” Seonghwa said. “You have the contents of the locker?”

“Right here,” you placed them on the desk and Yunho shifted in discomfort.

“Thank you for keeping them safe,” the underboss took a deep breath. “I understand that you’ve been working here as the bookkeeper for a considerable amount of time now?”

“About a year, yes,” you straightened, suddenly aware of the tension in the room- even San appeared to be squirming, playing with the ends of his sleeves- you’d never seen him fidget like this. “What is this about, if I may ask?”

“And you… do you have some family? Someone you’ve been caring for?”

“Not in Eden, no,” you confirmed.

“Do you have any idea of what these items are?”

“That’s my registers,” you nudged the thick books. “I’ve recorded every transaction here, legal or not. And this…” you held the package in your hand. “I’m afraid I do not know, but if I have to assume… probably the drugs we slip to our VIPs here.”

Seonghwa met eyes with Yeosang who sighed. “I told you. She does not know, but she can be trusted.”

“We have a policy, Yeosang. I know we trust our employees, but the trust can only go so far.”

“If you could tell me what this is about,” you gritted your teeth, knowing fully well where this was going. “Maybe you should just talk to me, Mr. Park.”

“Well, here’s the thing,” he turned his attention to you, fixing his coat. “We cannot let you go since you’ve seen that,” he pointed at the package and you realised that it was not the drug that you were aware of.

But if not that, then what was it? You shook it slightly and felt the rustling of something powdery. It had to be a drug.

“And?” You countered. “I was assigned by one of you to take this and flee in case of an attack. I’ve simply followed orders.”

Seonghwa’s brow rose subconsciously and he shared a look with Yunho who looked amused- amused? You knew that people didn’t usually talk back to those in power, but you had once been there. They didn’t know that you once had power- some semblance of it, at least.

“I’ll be forward with you- we are not allowed to share that with anyone outside our circle, and anyone who does see that is subject to execution.”

You looked at Yeosang in disbelief- he knew that, yet he had still assigned you to carry out this job for him. He could have asked anyone, but he chose you, even when he knew Kihyun had recommended you. Kihyun, the leader of the longest standing gang here and Ateez’s partner. He knew how desperate you were for some stability in your life, yet he chose you.

“I chose you because I trusted you,” Yeosang offered, not meeting your eyes lest he saw how betrayed you felt. It didn’t matter anymore, though.

“You can’t kill me,” you told Yeosang. “You know who recommended me.”

“I’m sure they will understand,” Seonghwa answered in his stead.

“No, actually,” you tossed the packet on the table and folded your arms, liquid courage making its way up unfiltered as you met Yunho’s eyes- the one thing that you hid from him- from all of them. “I’m sure I’ll be much more useful alive.”

Yunho scoffed loudly, not quite believing the shift in your demeanour and the calculation in your voice, but Seonghwa leaned forward as if to question the sheer audacity that you displayed, and if you knew any better, you would have backed down and accepted your predetermined faith, but-

You still had unfinished business. You still had to take down the men of Eden who possessed power yet wielded it against their homeland. You still had to get back at your father for disowning you. You were far from your goal and you simply couldn’t stop here.

“Miss Jeon… how on earth could you be more useful alive to us?”

You mirrored Seonghwa’s posture, leaning forward as well and though the wide table separated the two of you, you could very well have been inches away considering how fixated your gazes were. “I know things about the people in power that even your angels do not know of, Mr. Park. I know how their minds work, I know their dirty little secrets. I know what to avoid when dealing with them. I could help you shake Eden’s current establishment- you should not kill me.”

A silence spread in the room as they processed your words and assessed your statement- was this a leap of faith or an act of stupidity? Whatever it was, it seemed to be enough. Seonghwa looked at Yunho again who seemed just as surprised as the rest.

“We could strike a deal,” you offered, relaxing back. While you knew that they could kill you right away and move on with their night, you decided that if you were really going to get killed, you could try something.

It wasn’t a bluff, no. You meant each word you said, but it was a gamble on your life.

“Luna,” Yeosang’s low voice prompted you to turn to him and adhere to his warning but you were still cross with him.

“What deal would that be?” Yunho finally spoke- you supposed that as consigliere to his boss, he handled these matters. “What information do you possess that is worth more than your life?”

“If I give it away right now, you won’t have any reason to keep me alive, would you?” You countered and San huffed in appreciation, making Yunho shoot daggers at him.

“What? She’s smart,” he pouted and you smiled inwardly, glad that he was still the same old San.

“You will have to give us something, darling,” Seonghwa straightened his gun on the table and though the action was casual, it felt like a mockery of how your life was literally in his- in their hands.

You leaned back to think- you had to play your cards right here, and very carefully. One wrong move and you’d be gone. What was it that you could reveal right now that would make them consider that you were a force to be reckoned with, and would also make them join hands with you? Could you make this mafia gang bend to your will, or were you asking for too much?

You looked around the room, meeting eyes with each one of them, calculating every possible move from here. Most of the information you had was something you couldn’t simply claim to know without blowing your real identity. If they started looking into your background properly this time, they would find out that your surname was borrowed and there was no record of you being here in Eden before 1966- that was four years ago. You came back from Wonderland in ‘66, having spent a few years there looking after your sick aunt and recovering from the shame and anger of being disowned by your father. You couldn’t tell them who your father was- it was far too early for that.

And since you couldn’t have them finding who your father was, you couldn’t let them know anything related to the pharmaceutical business your father owned, or his connections with the politicians- could you give them some information about a politician? President Lee, perhaps? But you weren’t sure how dangerous he was, maybe someone else-

Your eyes fell on an antique porcelain vase in the corner that looked awfully familiar. Your frown deepened as you tried to recall where you had seen it, and when it clicked, you realised you had your answer.

“You got that vase from Assemblyman Major General Wi, is that right?”

The four of them turned to look at the object you were pointing at. Yeosang confirmed that you were right. You couldn’t help but have your lips curl in a smirk. “You might want to return it. You don’t want to have an object that was used for money-laundering… unless you’re involved.”

Yeosang blinked in confusion, looking at the older two who seemed to be concealing any hints of emotions. San, however, looked just as confused as Yeosang. “How do you know that?”

“That’s not the point,” you told him. “The point is that General Wi’s artefact gallery is just a cover for his money-laundering business. Not a good look for a presidential candidate, is it?”

Seonghwa nodded, perhaps connecting some dots in his head and coming to the conclusion that you may be right. “I’m impressed, Miss Jeon. I will verify this information but I have a feeling that you’re speaking the truth.”

You nodded and Yeosang finally laughed in disbelief. “Who are you really, Luna?”

“Your bookkeeper who’s asking that you take consideration of my loyalty and make a deal,” you said and when Yeosang nodded, you continued. “I… I, too, have unfinished business. You know I was desperate to have stability when I first got a job here- it wasn’t always like this. I will give you all the information that you need as long as you protect me as your source. As long as you keep me safe, because you and I,” you turned to Seonghwa. “We have the same goals.”

“And what might that be?”

“Power and protection,” you said, sure that you were right about the first part but when Seonghwa’s brows twitched, you realised that the shot in the dark with ‘protection’ wasn’t fruitless. “We’ve all got something or someone to protect. I’m protecting myself. You’re protecting your people.”

“You’re very talkative… Luna,” Yunho commented and your heart fluttered at the way he called your name- only the nickname, yet you were wavering. You mentally scolded yourself. “This could be the only information you possess. Not enough.”

“Oh, please,” you countered. “You know I have more- I can’t be running on sheer confidence here. But don’t think for one second that you can torture that information out of me,” you said and when Yunho smiled guiltily, you somehow found yourself smiling back despite the fact that your life was on the line. “Protect me and I’ll make sure your boss overthrows the current establishment and becomes the most powerful man in Eden.”

“Protect you from who?” Yunho asked and you gulped involuntarily, recalling the darkness and emptiness in the eyes of the person the whole nation admired.

“I can’t say yet, just… keep me in the shadows, for now. Please.”

Yunho looked at Seonghwa- you couldn’t be making this up. Yeosang asked you to go home and that they would give you an answer soon. When you left the room, Yeosang sat down next to San.

“You’re thinking what I’m thinking?”

“She’s not lying, yes,” San confirmed and Yeosang nodded. “She’s only ever worked, right? We’ve been seeing her for a year now. Work and home is all she does, isn’t that so?”

“Yes. I kept an eye on her for a few months before I assigned her with bookkeeping duties- she has no family here. Just a few acquaintances- Kihyun of MX Pharmaceuticals, which I thought was odd, but they were a gang before they became a pharmaceutical company, so maybe she encountered them at some point. They literally know everyone.”

“And her roommate just so happens to be Wendy.”

“I dismissed it as a coincidence. She couldn’t be one of the RV spies, could she?”

“Nope. They’re far too meticulous.”

“You assigned bookkeeping to a person who was acquainted with both Kihyun and Wendy?” Yunho raised his brows in disbelief. “That’s too big a coincidence, guys.”

“Wendy is under a disguise, Luna probably doesn’t know what she actually does,” Yeosang said. “Besides… I trust her. I really believe it wasn’t necessary to just kill her like that. It’s not like she knows what’s inside this,” Yeosang poked the packet with his finger.

“I don’t think Chan’s gang got a whiff of our drug dealing,” Seonghwa sighed, running a hand through his lengthy locks. “They must have attacked just to get us riled up. They wish to tarnish our reputation because General Wi is choosing sides.”

“We really need to check if the thing about the artefacts gallery is true,” Yunho said. “If it is, we have to tread carefully. Hongjoong will be pissed to learn what happened tonight.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Seonghwa got up. “This girl… Luna?”

“That’s what everyone calls her here,” Yeosang said and Seonghwa nodded slowly.

“She’s something. I’ll verify her information- it’s probably true. Tell her we’ve got a new job for her.”

When you bluffed your way out of your death- though you hadn’t really lied, you did hold information that could ruin Eden- you didn’t expect that you’d find yourself with a new job in the main office of the Crescent Company. You paused in the middle of recording the last entries of the day and your job, only to catch Yeosang watching you with interest.

You folded your arms, staring back and pulling your lower lip between your teeth in contemplation.

“Are you sure this isn’t just a trap to kill me? You could just shoot me and get on with your day, why go through all these lengths?”

Yeosang’s rich laughter boomed in the office room and you sent a tired glare in his direction before going back to checking the receipts of the new stock.

“We would have killed you last night if we really wanted to.”

The nonchalance with which he said that sent a bitter taste down your throat, reminding you of familiar words you had heard a few years ago, but you knew that this situation was different- you had to believe that they were different. Otherwise, there was no hope left for Eden.

“I’m still mad that you signed me up for death with this job, by the way. That was a low blow.”

“You are our first bookkeeper,” Yeosang said in response. “We just didn’t know what to do… does that sound like a good excuse?”

“Hardly,” you muttered. “I thought we were… acquaintances, if not friends. I respected you, Yeosang.”

Yeosang put a hand on his chest. “Respected? Do you hate me now?”

“I can’t really hate you when you’re… you,” you shut the register, looking at him.

You had spent long hours with Yeosang in this very office. Somehow, with him, it had always been naturally comfortable and he once admitted that he thought it was odd how you both could be in the same room, busy with your own work yet feeling right at home. Though you barely ever had a heart-to-heart with the man, the impression that he was a scary gangster had vanished long ago. He was scary when he had to be, but he just felt more human than his partners.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m just a little hurt that you delivered me on a platter to your underboss for him to do whatever he wanted with me. Try to understand,” you explained. “And I still respect you, don’t worry.”

“He wouldn’t have killed you. I would have stopped him,” Yeosang insisted.

“You were more nervous than me,” you scoffed.

“I was nervous for you, that you were going to make a mistake and he would really have to kill you,” Yeosang admitted and you blinked in surprise. “But you did just fine on your own. Are you not going to tell me who you really are?”

“I can’t tell you that yet,” you told him. “I trust you just enough to gamble with my life, but I’ll reveal things only when I’m sure the information would be in safe hands. You have to trust me a little too. It’s not like I can betray you- where would I even go? You’re all going to kill me if I make a mistake anyway.”

Yeosang nodded- you had a point. “Have you got nothing to lose?”

“I’ve already lost everything that I had,” you shook your head. “I’ve only got my life now.”

“I have a feeling you’ll do well in the main office,” Yeosang clapped his hands once in conclusion. “Since you’re already aware that we’re doing both legal and illegal dealings, you can do bookkeeping there. I have to warn you though- if information ever leaks, they will kill you without hesitation.”

“Geez, thanks,” you winced. “Tell me something new.”

“I don’t know where you got the guts to talk back to me,” Yeosang laughed, shaking his head once. “But keep this up and you won’t last long.”

“Why?” You leaned forward on the table in challenge. “Are you and San the only ones who can converse like normal humans?”

“We’re always just a little tipsy,” Yeosang said cheekily and you realised he was right. “You shouldn’t see me when I’m sober.”

You pursed your lips, realising that he was right- if he was anything like the rest of his gang, he had to be drunk all this time if he could tolerate you, a mere employee, talking like you were on his level.

“Snob,” you muttered and got up to put these registers with the rest of the piles, ignoring Yeosang’s snickers. “Alright, my work here is done.”

“You’re fired,” Yeosang announced with a grin. “I’ve wanted to say that to you for so long.”

“You’re hopeless! I’ve been promoted, not fired,” you corrected.

“Whatever,” Yeosang got up, checking the time on his wristwatch. “San will be here in a few minutes- he’ll accompany you to the main office. You can say your farewells but you’ll be here often. It’s not a goodbye.”

“Okay,” you stood awkwardly for a moment, looking around- the beige walls with paint peeling in the corner, the dark shelves and furniture, the gramophone in one corner that you never played because you could always hear music from outside.

“I’ll miss this,” you took a deep breath, nodding as you memorised and soaked in the feeling of this room.

“You’ll be back,” he assured, giving you a moment. “Now off you go.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, very out-of-character for you and taking him by surprise, you exited the office. You could hear what his response would have been- ‘just because we decided to keep you alive doesn’t mean that you can act out!’ but it was exactly that. If you had their protection, you would act out- just not to them.

To the people who wore the cloaks of saints over their demonic hearts and ruled over Eden.

“Luna!,” Eunbi spread her arms as soon as she spotted you and you gladly let her hug you. “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

“I’m hearing I’ll be here often, so you won’t have to worry too much,” you poked her ribs, making her squirm as she laughed. “Just stay safe. And no matter what, do not become their bookkeeper.”

Eunbi frowned at that but before she could ask you more, the bell over the front door chimed and you knew it was San the way the bar suddenly fell quiet. You let go of Eunbi and patted her cheek before meeting eyes with San who waved at you.

Waved. You were a little pleased to see that the new arrangement was as awkward for him as it was for you. Eunbi echoed that out loud with a ‘did he just…?’ and you told her to get back to the counter.

“Hi,” San stifled a smile. “Good to see you’re still in one piece.”

“No thanks to you,” you countered. “Shall we?”

“I’m just going to let Yeosang know that I’m here,” San said, finally chuckling. “Look, if it helps, Seonghwa wasn’t really going to kill you.”

“I keep hearing that, but it just feels like you’re trying to convince yourselves instead of me,” you shook your head. “It doesn’t matter. I'll say my farewell to Yuju.”

You agreed to meet outside in five minutes and you went to find Yuju, who told you to stay safe. Jeonghan looked more worried than Yuju- he had overheard some of their conversation last night about them getting rid of you but you assured him it was alright now. You just found out something you shouldn’t have so they were just being cautious. Though he didn’t look convinced, he let you go with an affectionate pat to your shoulder and a joke about how no one is going to let him nap in peace anymore.

Before you went outside, you took a look in the mirror and adjusted your black slacks and the rounded collar of your cream blouse before wearing your black coat over it. San was already waiting for you in his car- a black ‘67 Bentley- and you got in the backseat, your heart beating in anticipation.

“It’s not a long drive from here,” San said, “But I thought as an apology, I’d give you a ride.”

“I’ve been in better cars, but I appreciate the sentiment,” you said and San deadpan stared at you. You squirmed, realising an explanation would entail revealing details from your background. “I mean… the condition could definitely improve.”

“Yeah, it’s been through a lot, you’re right, “ San let out a chuckle before glancing at you. “You’re not going to tell me where exactly you’ve been in better cars? Because as far as I know, you were struggling to make a living when you first got a job here.”

“That was because I moved back from Wonderland after a long time,” you fiddled with your pearl ring. “Anyone would struggle.”

“And how do you really know Kihyun?”

Kihyun- he was almost like a brother to you. As a child, you had often seen him go in and out of your house because of some business dealings with your father. Though your father kept you hidden for the most part, having homeschooled you and pretending that you were his niece instead of daughter, Kihyun knew. He was far too smart to be deceived by a simple lie, and your brother had made it painfully obvious that he hated you for a reason. And when everything went wrong, Kihyun was there as a shield.

He had offered you a place in his company too, but you could not possibly involve Kihyun into your plans for the demise of your enemies. You respected him far too much to drag him into your mess.

“He’s just a connection- we have a few mutual acquaintances.”

“And who might they be?” San asked but you shook your head.

“I can’t reveal their identities… yet,” you said and when he narrowed his eyes, you stifled a smile. “Is there something I should know before we reach the office?”

“Well,” San exhaled, thinking. “It’s going to be quite different from the bar- more professional and tense. I’m sure the secretaries you’ll work with will warm up to you eventually but they might come off as unwelcoming or prickly at first.”

“We’ll see,” you said. “And… will I be interacting with… one of you often?”

“Why?” San questioned, a playful smile gracing his lips. “Is there someone you’d like to interact with?”

“That’s not what I mean-” you started but the car came to a halt and with a dirty look thrown in San’s direction, you got out of the car and craned your neck to look at the double-story building that was the main office for Crescent Company.

It wasn’t anything much, and you knew that that was intentional. Just like all the other office buildings in this somewhat posh area of the town, it had a chestnut brick wall with a new moon that made up for the ‘c’ in crescent. The guard situated at the front door bowed to San as you entered. The employees inside acknowledged San’s presence, halting what they were doing and only resuming once San nodded. There were a handful of them- a receptionist and a few workers coming in and out of the unlabelled rooms. You supposed everyone was assigned a task and had respective offices.

“This is us,” San announced, motioning at the somewhat lifeless interior. “Nothing much, and we would like to keep it that way. You’ll be working upstairs with Jihoon and Eunha- they are our boss’ secretary.”

“Mr. Park’s?” You questioned as you followed him at the end of the hall towards the stairs.

“And Hongjoong’s,” San said and you paused in the middle of ascending the stairs.

“I’m going to work for Kim Hongjoong?”

“Relax,” San snickered. “He’s always holed up in his office if he’s not in the field, and Jihoon does the assistant work. You won’t encounter him too much.”

“That’s not the point,” you muttered. You reached the upper story to see three rooms across the spacious hall which was set up as an office itself. There were two people working in that space, sitting in front of the windows where there were three desks in a row. It didn’t look out of place since their workspaces were spread across the entirety of the hall. The empty desk looked a bit odd, though, and you reckoned it had been set for you which meant they must have moved things around a bit.

“I’ll leave you to get acquainted with them,” San said. “There won’t be much to do for a few days until they think you can handle the work.”

When Jihoon’s burning gaze met yours indicating his annoyance- already?- you gulped. Perhaps, you should have stuck to the bar or denied their offer. Jihoon was quick to change his expressions as he rose from his seat.

“Mr. Choi,” Jihoon greeted and Eunha looked a bit surprised as if she hadn’t heard you two come. She followed with her own greeting, tucking her short pink hair behind her ear in what looked like a nervous habit.

“This is… Jeon y/n- the new secretary. I hope you’ll train her well. She’s already familiar with bookkeeping so I don’t think she’ll have to learn much.”

“No worries, we’ll handle it,” Jihoon said. “Nice to meet you, Miss Jeon.”

“Nice to meet you too. You can just call me Luna- everyone does.”

“That’s a pretty name,” Eunha shook hands with you. “This is your desk, and I’ll give you a walkthrough before Jihoon takes you around the office, is that okay?”

“Sure,” you nodded, feeling hopeful. You turned to San. “I think I got it from here.”

“Very well,” San nodded. “Take care of her- she’s got potential.”

Jihoon only smiled in response and as soon as San was out of sight, he slumped down on his desk and went back to typing. You turned to Eunha who only smiled awkwardly, muttering ‘he’s a bit cranky at times’ and you shrugged. You could deal with cranky.

Eunha told you about your duties- bookkeeping since you had experience, typing a report each night that Mr. Park or Mr. Jeong would be signing, and any other miscellaneous tasks that Eunha and Jihoon couldn’t cover in their shift hours. Once she was done briefing, she handed you over to Jihoon who made a display of grunting in annoyance before he guided you downstairs to the last room which was essentially a storage.

“You must know that not all the business under the Crescent Company is legal,” he said and you nodded. “Where would you keep the record of illegal transactions?”

“Definitely not here?”

“Here,” he corrected, “but concealed while still being right in front of your eyes. In the case of a raid by the detectives because a certain inspector has been on our case for a while, they will take everything in here, right? The illegal transactions are kept in a safe behind that painting,” he pointed towards the mediocre painting of cherry trees in the darkest corner of the room.

“And the key?”

“A code, this time,” he said. “I’m still hesitant about sharing it with you but Mr. Choi said you could be trusted.”

“I’ve handled such matters before, yes,” you told him, understanding why he was sceptical about you. “There’s a reason I’m here.”

“That is definitely not the reason why you’re here,” Jihoon scoffed loudly. “Just because you passed a little trust test does not mean you get a position as the boss’s secretary. Eunha and I have worked under them since the beginning- that’s a plausible reason. They trust us.”

Though you wanted to argue with the man, you decided that you would be better off being civil towards him if you had to tolerate him to keep your job.

“Who else knows the key?”

“Apart from the boss, underboss and consigliere… only Eunha and I. So if information leaks, if the location of the safe leaks-”

“I’ll be the obvious suspect, of course,” you nodded and Jihoon considered you for a moment before acknowledging your answer.

“Our schedules are going to change now, so there is always at least one person out of the three of us in the office at all times, though the three of us must always be present in the 12 to 2pm slot. In case of an emergency, you are expected- obliged to get down here and escape with the contents of this safe, is that clear?”

“Clear as day,” you confirmed.

“1024 is the code,” Jihoon said and you nodded, memorising it. “Now, let me show you where we keep the official records.”

You took note of every little thing Jihoon had to tell you. Eunha observed how you worked for the rest of the evening and made you acquainted with the methods that you were to use. You were familiar with the work- you had already been in charge of tracking expenses, monitoring budget and keeping a record of all the financial transactions in the Crescent Bar. Eunha was going to take care of tax payments and returns while Jihoon was going to supervise.

It was a manageable workload so you were pleased with your current position- you just hoped the two would warm up to you soon. You did not expect them to get along with you, you just prayed they would remain civil and not stir any trouble.

Your schedule was going to change from the next day and your shift was from 6pm to midnight- or more, if the need be- and you would also have to be present in the 12 to 2 pm slot. Since you were going to be the one who would lock up the office, you received a set of keys which included one for the storage, one for the main door, and one for Jeong Yunho’s office- in case he or Park Seonghwa weren’t present- to lock away those documents. You were to place them in the cupboard in Mr. Jeong’s room.

While you were in the office today, you didn’t encounter any of your bosses. You figured their absence wasn’t unusual since no one was talking about them. Eunha helped you prepare the report that you were to hand over tonight in her stead if anyone did visit the office because she had a work appointment and needed to be there. She told you to make sure that all the locks are in place before you leave for home.

While you waited for the clock to strike midnight- which was about twenty minutes from now- you busied yourself with scratching your pencil at a piece of paper that was going to be discarded anyway. One thing that calmed you like nothing else was the feeling of the pencil’s lead rubbing against the grains of the paper and leaving a mark for you to play with. With a very specific picture in your mind, you continued to draw straight lines, sharp curves and edges, adding the elements of threat and danger where needed, but preserving the softness of it all-

“What are you doing here?”

You looked up to find not the person you were hoping to see but the person you wanted to avoid the most.

Jeong Yunho.

Lieutenant Jeong Yunho, all dressed up in a black suit with engraved silver buttons, the black tie loose on his neck, his hands hidden in the pockets of his pants. Your eyes travelled up to his parted lips, to the muscles of his jaw flexing and unflexing, to his dark gaze trained not on you but lower- what was he looking at-

You subconsciously put a hand over your incomplete sketch and got up in greeting. “Lieutenant Jeong. I have the report- Eunha had a work engagement.”

“I see,” he nodded slowly as if still coming to terms that you were to work here now. You could return the sentiment- it was a strange feeling to see him here. You had acknowledged each other’s presence in silence and at rare times, shared a drink (you didn’t often drink at the bar). But standing across each other in this formal setting…

“Well?”

You broke out of your trance, feeling heat creep up your neck. Perhaps, you were waiting for him to call you to his office. Had you expected him to do that because Yeosang had done the same once? He had been so nonchalant about everything but right now, you felt overwhelmed. You fumbled with the folders until you dug out the report, cursing yourself internally because why didn’t you place it right on the top?

You extended your hand and he drew closer to grab the document from you, reminding you once again of how tall he was. You gulped- there was no way to explain what you were feeling except a crushing sense of intimidation that made you feel so very small. It had been about a year, yet whenever you were in his presence, your mind took you back to memory lane-

Specifically the lane near the bar where he ended his enemies and found you watching. Neither of you ever addressed why you had been there or why he had done all of that mercilessly.

“Looks fine,” he said, turning the few pages and skimming through them. “You can leave now- it’s almost closing time. I’ll lock the doors behind me”

“Alright…” were you two the only ones inside the building? “Goodnight, Lieutenant.”

“You don’t have to call me lieutenant, you know,” he said and you met his eyes again, finding the ends of his lips slightly curled in a… smile? Or was that a smirk?

“How would you have me address you then?”

Somehow, it oddly reminded you of a similar conversation you had with Yeosang, except you had been calling him ‘sir’ and he couldn’t stop snorting everytime you called him that. He let it be for the entire day until he told you to just call him Yeosang- calling him sir in an informal environment only earned him odd looks. You argued that apart from the selected few employees, literally everyone called him ‘sir’ or a variation of it, but he insisted that you already sounded like something was stuck up your [redacted] and he didn’t want to add on to that.

That was the only time he saw your composure break. The rest was history.

The consigliere shrugged, giving you yet another glimpse of the person he was. He didn’t like to be called lieutenant, even though this was a formal environment.

“Mr. Jeong then, since everyone calls you that,” you concluded.

“And do you still go by Luna?”

“I… do.”

He nodded once, his gaze falling at the paper you were hiding from him. You kept your hand placed over it and he turned, disappearing into his office. You didn’t miss the frustrated grunt that escaped his mouth as he shut the door.

Your shoulders relaxed and you picked the paper- he had definitely seen and recognised the gun that you had just seen last night on the table, and he probably recognised the hand that held it as well- the long, slender fingers that radiated delicacy despite being roughed up.

The hand of the underboss of Crescent Company. Someone you had wished to meet before the night ended.

~ next chapter

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traveler-at-heart · 3 months ago

Text

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

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n

523 notes · View notes

austinbutlerslovers · 11 months ago

Text

Master List 100% Smut

💝Romantic ❤️‍🔥Passionate ⚠️Hardcore 🚨Deranged 🏆 TOP

••••••••••••••••• New Releases •••••••••••••••••

🔗Golden Glow 1.19🔗Overstimulation 1.16🔗His Every Desire1.26

⚠️ Obsession 🏆 One Shot

❤️‍🔥 Power & Control One Shot

⚠️Feyd Fantasy 1 Pleasure & Pain 🏆✨

🚨Feyd Fantasy 2 Baroness & Breeder 🏆

⚠️Feyd Fantasy 3 Kill or Be Killed 🏆

🚨Feyd Fantasy 4 Madness & Mayhem 🏆✨

⚠️ Feyd Fantasy Part 5 Endless Empire

⚠️ Feyd Fantasy Part 6 Brazen Baron

🚨 Feyd Fantasy Part 7 Honor & Heir COMPLETE

💝Golden Glow NEW 1.19.25

❤️‍🔥Overstimulation NEW 1.16.25

❤️‍🔥Rebound Romance NEW 1.9.25

💝Model Patient 2 NEW 1.9.25

❤️‍🔥Heavy Part 2 NEW 1.5.25

💝How We Became Us 12.25.24

💝Wrapped in Love 🏆 12.22.24

💝 Model Patient 12.14.24

🚨Edge of Desire 12.11.24

❤️‍🔥Buzzcut 🏆 ✨ 12.7.24

💝Thankful 11.28.24

❤️‍🔥Birthday Boy 11.24

❤️‍🔥New Fetish 🏆 11.22

❤️‍🔥The Massage 11.18

💝His Princess 🏆 11.13

❤️‍🔥Heavy 🏆 10.7

💝Austins Praises 10.6

💝One Night in Budapest 9.16

❤️‍🔥Fight Training 🏆 (Sub Austin)

💝Avec Moi 🏆 (anniversary sex)

💝Cat Daddy (fluff +smut)

❤️‍🔥Ride Me (kink)

❤️‍🔥Lazy Day 69 🏆

💝False God (meet cute)

💝Austins Bath

❤️‍🔥So Slutty (nipple play)

❤️‍🔥Wet Dream

❤️‍🔥Hollywood Authentic Feeling

🚨Austins Angst

❤️‍🔥Work Me Like Wet Clay (very first fic ever ✨)

❤️‍🔥After Hours 🏆 ✨ 9.24

❤️‍🔥Kiss it Better 10.13

❤️‍🔥Jealous 10.24

❤️‍🔥Playing Dirty 11.4

❤️‍🔥Zip Ties 🏆 11.7.

❤️‍🔥Another Load 11.15

💝But Daddy I Love Him NEW 1.1.25

❤️‍🔥Benny Cross Part 1: 🏆 ✨ Handsome Stranger 7.3.24

💝Benny Cross Part 2: The Vandals 7.16.24

❤️‍🩹Benny Cross Part 3: Playing House 7.22.24

❤️‍🔥Benny Cross Part 4: ‘Til Death 8.29.24

❤️‍🩹Benny Cross Chapter 5 🏆 Broken Promises 9.4.24

❤️‍🔥Benny Cross Chapter 6: For Keeps COMPLETED 9.12.24 🚨The Chase 🎃 🏆 10.19.24

⚠️ The Good Girl (one shot) 🏆✨ 9.23.24

❤️‍🔥Until the Bed Breaks (one shot) 🏆 ✨ 9.16.24

❤️‍🔥He Knows Things (one shot) 🏆 9.6.24

❤️‍🔥Rough Ride (one shot ) 8.4.24

❤️‍🔥Strip for Me (one shot)🏆 6.12.24

❤️‍🔥Chokehold (one shot) 6.8.24

❤️‍🔥Hard at Work (one shot) 🏆

⚠️Under the Mistletoe 12.18.24

⚠️ Silk & Silence NEW 1.1.25

⚠️ Drenched in Shadows NEW 1.13.25

❤️‍🔥His Every Desire NEW 1.26.25

🚨 Pretty Little Secret 12.5.24

🚨 The Hunt (Austin Vampire 2) 11.19.24

❤️‍🔥The Red Dress 🏆 11.11.24

⚠️ Blood Bound (Austin Vampire ) 10.30.24

🚨 Teachers Pet 🏆✨5.4.24

🚨 Mr. Butlers Babysitter 🏆✨

🚨 Mr. Butlers Babysitter 2 🏆

🚨 Mr. Butlers Babysitter 3 🏆 5.12.24

🚨 Mr. Butlers Babysitter 4 COMPLETED 6.30.24

❤️‍🔥Eternal Ink 5.29.24

⚠️ The Belt 6.1.24

💝 Sweet as Pie 🎃 10.31.24

💝Major Gale Fantasy 1:He Racks You Down&Knocks You Up✨

💝Major Gale Fantasy 2 : Missing You Every Second

⚠️ Bucked & Fxcked 🏆✨

⚠️Bucked & Fxcked Part 2 One Last Buck 🏆

🚨Lake House Lessons

⚠️You Will Call Me Sir

💝Well I’ll Be Damned 6.1.24

••••••••••••✍🏼 Upcoming Fic List 📖 ••••••••••••

Special thanks to @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @lindszeppelin for helping me create a masterlist 💗

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kanekisfavoritegf · 5 months ago

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PERFECT LOVER: The Life of Nanami Kento the 35 Year Old Virgin

MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED

SYNOPSIS: Kento Nanami, a 35-year-old introvert with a tendency to avoid social interactions, has made a conscious decision to steer clear of romantic entanglements. However, everything changes when he meets a new colleague at his birthday party, (Satoru's Idea). From the moment they meet, he is mesmerized, finding himself increasingly unable to resist her magnetic presence. Like taking a bite of forbidden fruit, he becomes ensnared by the allure, delving into a realm of infatuation and finding himself unable to break free. As he delves deeper into this newfound connection, Nanami begins to realize that he craves more than just a fleeting experience and yearns for more than just a fleeting taste of what she embodies.

Table of Contents

WORD COUNT: 1.5K

CHAPTER SIX:

Kento’s bathroom was nice, and it was also nice the last time you sat on the edge of his bathtub, hungover.

You stared at the drying white patch on the bottom of your dress and fought the urge to break out into uncontrollable laughter.

It was hilarious, it shouldn’t have been, but it was. This whole situation was starting to dawn on you; Kento Nanami, no matter how tall and how stoic and sneakily flirty he was, was a virgin—a virgin who was trusting you to be the calm and collected one. Running to the bathroom after having him release on you isn’t painting the image of a calm and collected person.

Opting for a calmer approach, you changed out of your dress first and threw on his shirt. It was black and oversized, with the words “Metallica” written in big white letters.

Metallica? He didn’t seem like the type.

When you opened your door, you were half surprised not to see Kento standing at your door waiting to usher you back into the kitchen, but he was nowhere to be seen. Walking down the dimly lit hallway and back into the living room, it was empty, with no sign of the blonde anywhere. You made sure to step over the rug and look over the couch to see Kento setting up the dinner table.

Candles lit and food already set down, Kento walked around the table, fussing over every last detail. It was cute to watch from a distance. You approached slowly and quietly, stopping once you were close enough to watch but far enough not to be detected. He hummed along to some jazz song that played in the background.

“Can I sit down, or should I keep watching you shift the cutlery to the right and then the left again?” You smiled at him, stepping into the warm yellowish candlelight. Its soft scent hugged your body and filled your nose.

“I don’t know…” Kento looked up at you, “I quite like my view right now. Maybe I’ll make you stand here for the rest of the night as I eat.”

“You wouldn’t be so cruel, Mr. Nanami.”

“I just might.”

Kento took your hand and led you to your spot. You were across from each other at the ends of the table.

“So Metallica?”

“Don’t seem like the type, do I?”

“Not in the slightest.” You laughed.

“Was very antisocial in high school.”

“More so than now?” Kento nodded before continuing,

“It was comical how bad it was. Anyways, my lack of want to socialize, along with wired earphones and a lock on my door, I found solace in music, loud, loud music.

Long story short, he was a big emo kid who swore that his life was not just a phase.”

“Awe. I was a big Orchestra nerd, Cello first chair, Always.”

“Of course you were.”

“I look like an Orchestra kid?”

“No, you look like the type to be perfect at everything.”

“You flatter me, Mr. Nanami.”

“Don’t let it go to your pretty head.”

“You think I am pretty?” you asked, taking another bite of the food, holding back the urge to moan at the taste.

Nanami didn’t answer immediately, taking a slow sip at his wine as he held your stare.

“You have no idea what I think about you.” You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to; it was like he dared you to break it first to give in. Kento was pulling you in each direction. Did he want you to take the lead, or did he want you to give in? Something in his eyes, a glimmer of defiance.

Take the lead, it is.

“Eat your food, Kento.” You said, a small smile painted on your face as it was your turn to take a long swig at your drink. The red wine slipped down your throat and warmed your stomach.

“I think you should do the same, Y/N. I can’t have you drinking on an empty stomach.” You laughed under your breath, taking a bite out of your food, watching as he followed along, only eating when you did.

Soon, nothing was on your plate and an almost empty wine cup.

“Come to the couch and bring the bottle with you, Kento.” Standing up, you didn’t wait to see if he had followed your order; you heard the quiet sound of his steps tracking behind you.

Sitting across from you, Nanami Kento looked on, a proud man.

“What do you want from me, Mr. Nanami?” Fear tightened its grip on your heart, uncertainty casting a shadow over your thoughts. You were both grown adults; there was no need to beat around the bush. Casual relationships were a familiar territory for you, but they always left someone hurt. Was Kento looking to be serious, or were you just a pawn in his game of manhood? A person must satisfy his desires and boast about them to Satoru. No matter how much you wanted to belive he wasn’t like that, he could be that type.

“I am a virgin.”

“As we have previously established.”

“I like you, but I am a virgin.” He took a deep breath before continuing. His eyes not on you fully. “I want to please you. I want to give you what others also could. But I— I don’t know how.”

“Kento… We don’t have to jump straight into the sex. It can wait.”

“I don’t want to wait. I want you to teach me.”

“Teach you?”

“Yes. So tell me what you want, and teach me how to do it. I’ll be good for you; I’ll be so so good if you give me time to learn.”

“You want me to teach you?”

His head nodded rapidly as he inched closer to you, and now on your thigh, ghosting over your damp-clothed cunt.

“Fuck.” You whispered under your breath.

“Is that what you want? Me to fuck you?” His head fell into your neck, panting as his hand pressed against your pussy.

You shook your heads at his words. You did want him to fuck you, but your head became less and less there as his fingers rubbed you over your panties.

“No? you don’t want me to fuck you?” He was teasing you. Mocking you.

“Kento.” You warned him as you pressed yourself into his hand more.

“Y/N.” He mirrored.

“I want you to make me cum.”

“Teach me.” He whispered against your skin. Hands tugging at your panties until they ripped. He discarded the wet fabric on his rug and kept his attention on you. More so, your aching cunt. With one thick finger now inside you, you writhed against him.

“Tell me what to do, Y/N.” He demanded.

“Pump in and out.” He nodded, watching your face as you let yourself be taken by the pleasure.

“Oh fuck, Kento. More. More Please More now.” You grasped his hair, tugging it back slightly as you moved your hips in time with his digit.

“Another one?”

“Yes, God Y-Yes.”

With another finger in you now, your whines and moans became more consistent as he forced them out of you.

“Curl your fingers up. Kento.”

He didn’t even verbally respond. He was too busy moaning at you, moaning as if your pleasure was just as much his as it was yours.

His head was already nuzzled in your neck. He took a long stripe at your jugular as his fingers made a come here motion inside you.

You were a mess, moaning and panting. It was like he was pulling pleasure from you on a string. His breath felt hot against you, and in between the groans of pleasure he received, grinding into your words so high pitched, so whiney they couldn’t have possibly been from him. But they were.

“Teach me.” A bite to your neck and a groan followed. You could barely breathe, let alone process his words to you.

“I am teaching you.” You slurred through a honeyed tongue.

“Teach me”, He repeated, licking over his previous bite. “Please, Y/N. Show me how to make you cum,”

“Y-You, are already doing– Fuck!” It was too much; you tried, but the words failed you. Your sentences became nothing but incoherent babbles,

“I thought you said you wanted me to make you cum,” Kento removed his fingers, taking them to his mouth, “So Teach me, Y/N.”

He raised your hips until your legs sat over his shoulders and mouth hovering outside of your wet entrance. He took a greedy stripe at your cunt; slowly, with so much pressure, a broken sob escaped you. It was a single lick, and he pulled away immediately, not before moaning at your taste.

“Please,” he begged over and over as he continued to force your hips against him.

“Teach me.” He licked again. This time, no moan left you. Despite your mouth being wide open in the shape of an “O”, You didn’t make a single sound. Your body convulsed, and you came all over his chin.

“Teach me,” Kento demanded one last time. And you nodded mindlessly along to his words, and Kento had cum again, just from the sight of you.

Preview...

“Bend over and be a good girl.”

TAG LIST: @marikuchanxo @sukunasstomachtongue @getosgirlfailure @allysunny @tojicvmslut @typefeisu @aiyaaayei @villsophie @sillysillygoofygoose @jinleft @rivversin @haikioo @destinyblue-jjk @ramonathinks @actuallysaiyan @actuallysaiyan @melisuh123 @ureuphoriasworld @jaeminsmilk @rileyglas @bonnieblue0606 @alwaysfreakingout @lovelyiida @ayesayman @dreamgirl5300 @swoozleee @belle-oftheball34 @zeunys @yuzu-ku @aomi04 @y0urpr3ttyp0ck3tpussy @zombriesworld @hazzelle-kento @miinhooo @lucilles-witchery @areyouflying @cosmolight @doingthisjusttoreadnanamihcs

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gibsongirlsundaymorning · 2 months ago

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After all this time… (Night One.)

A/N: At the time of posting this, most people had voted that this be released in parts, and I’m impatient, so I’ll be releasing these in a few parts separated by the days of the story! As always, please drop any suggestions in the replies or my asks if there’s anything you’d like to see 😊

Synopsis: You come home with your childhood best friends, Billy and Tommy during your break at college, and instead of going to your own house, you stay at theirs with them and their mother… who you’ve had a huge crush on since before you can remember. As the visit goes on, you find it more and more torturous with your forced proximity and how she only seems to get more beautiful as the years pass.

Warnings: Nothing crazy this chapter, allusions to masturbation, drinking, pet names, legal age gap, strict!wanda.

Pairing: Mom!Wanda x Student!Reader (fem)

…………………………………………………………………………

As the holiday break approached, you felt a surge of excitement and a slight nervousness. You had been looking forward to this moment for months- after a long semester at college, you were finally heading home. Well, you weren’t going back to your own house. Your parents were spending their holidays traveling out of the country and exploring, so instead, you were going to stay with her childhood best friends, Billy and Tommy, at their home just five minutes away from the house you grew up in.

The twins' mom, Wanda Maximoff, had always been like a second mother to you. Growing up, she spent countless afternoons in their cozy home, playing games, doing homework, and watching sitcoms with the three of you. She was especially kind to you out of all the boys’ friends, and you suspected she’d always wanted a few more girls in her life, which was crowded by the masculine energies of Vision, Billy, and Tommy. She’d stay up with you after the boys went to bed, tired from their hours of roughhousing, and would spend those extra hours teaching you how to braid your hair by doing yours and then allowing you to try on her long, shiny red hair. Their home became your second house, their door always open to you.

Now, though, you were anxious on your train ride home to the woman and your childhood best friends. You’d stayed friends with the older woman on socials once you were allowed to get them in high school, keeping tabs on the woman who was aging impossibly beautifully as you approached your senior year of college. You constantly traded reels that reminded you of each other, and sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder if she picked up on the undertones of a few of the complimentary posts the two of you often exchanged.

There was no denying the crush you’d developed on the older woman, but you felt ridiculous even questioning if she’d maybe felt the same. You let yourself imagine it on occasion, though, especially in the past two years because of her separation from her ex-husband and the boys’ father, Vision. None of the 3 of them really kept in touch with the man due to the nature of their separation- he had somehow decided to cheat on the woman you now had a major crush on, a fact that confused you to no end, given her absolute beauty, intelligence, and kindness.

Your heart raced now as you spotted the twins waiting for you at the train station. They greeted you with wide smiles and tight hugs, their familiar laughter echoing through the crisp winter air. As they drove back to the Maximoff house, you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging and anticipation for the festive days ahead.

Despite the excitement, you couldn't shake off the nerves fluttering in her stomach. It had been years since you last saw Ms. Maximoff in person, and you worried about how much things might have changed. Would she still have that soft spot for you beyond your messages now that you were all grown up? Would you even be able to face her with this crushing admiration you’d developed as she grew more gorgeous with time? As they pulled into the driveway, you took a deep breath to steady yourself and clear your mind of the swirling questions.

The twins seemed to sense her anxiety. "Don't worry, Y/N," Billy said with a reassuring smile. "Mom's been looking forward to seeing you. She talks about you all the time."

Tommy chimed in, "Yeah, it's like you never left. She's got your favorite cookies baking right now." Their words helped, but your heart still pounded as they walked up to the door. When Ms. Maximoff opened it, her warm smile and open arms melted away half of your fears. In that moment, it felt like no time had passed at all.

Her arms wrapped tightly around your waist as your cheek pressed into her chest and your front against her own relieve you of the question of if her admiration for you had faded over the years. But this doesn’t shake the anxiety coursing through your veins. If anything, it feeds it, making you almost certain that this crush you had on her would be crippling over the week you’d be spending in her home.

As she pulled away, moving her tight grip to wrap around your elbows and hold you out to examine your matured face, her scent enveloped you, sending you flying straight into an almost drunken state.

Her fawn-like eyes meet your own as she lets out a deep sigh, speaking to you aloud for the first time in nearly three years. “Y/N, honey, you’ve grown up so much! Even prettier than the last time I saw you, too.” You’re searching desperately for a response to force out in our wavering voice when one of the boys speaks from behind you.

“Hey mom, nice to see you too!” One of the twins speaks from behind you- but from the sarcasm the comment is laced with, you’re sure it’s Billy. “Watch your tone, little man, I’m not against sending you to sit on the steps like before. I see you boys constantly, I miss my girl!” Wanda responds quickly, knowing just how to get the boy to remember his childlike fear of his mother’s discipline. You duck your head down in an attempt to cover up your deep blush at the title giggle at the antics and Wanda invites you to come into the house.

As you step into the Maximoff home, the familiar scent of freshly baked cookies filled the air, instantly bringing back a flood of childhood memories. The warm, cozy atmosphere makes you feel a bit more at ease, and Wanda couldn't help but smile at the relaxation that graces your face.

The twins, eager to catch up, quickly grabbed their bags and headed upstairs to put their stuff away. This left you alone with Ms. Maximoff, who enveloped her in another heartfelt hug. "It's so good to see you, hon," she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "’Ive missed having you around here." She wraps one hand ever-so-gently around the bottom of your chin to caress your jaw, and you naturally lean into her touch. When you finally remember to respond, you say “I’ve missed it here so much, Ms. Maximoff. Thank you so much again for having me, it means more than you could know that you’re still so welcoming. This really does feel like a second home to me.” Wanda slightly tilts her head and allows her eyes to linger on you one last second before bringing her hand away and grabbing your bags out of your hand.

It was then that you looked out into the living room you’d spent so many hours in with the red-haired woman, quietly bonding in your senior year of high school while the boys slept before their big games when you slept over in preparation. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Much more you now.” You note aloud as you notice the changes to furniture and decor she’s made, assumingly since her divorce, but more importantly noticing the stools you two used to sit on while she taught you all sorts of crafts and skills, and how they seemed to be the only remaining parts of the original room that kept their place in the center of the house.

You feel your nerves finally start to dissipate as the boys came down and they all moved to the kitchen once Ms. Maximoff dropped your bags in the guest room next to her own. You help the boys’ mom set out the cookies and make some tea while you all chat about everything from your college experiences to fond memories of your shared childhood adventures. Ms. Maximoff’s kind eyes and attentive listening made you feel more at home than ever before.

As the evening wound down, the boys headed upstairs to their childhood rooms, eager to pick out a few cherished items to bring back to school. They rummaged through old clothes and coats for the upcoming winter season, laughing and reminiscing about their younger days.

Meanwhile, you stayed downstairs with their mom to help clean up. You worked side by side in the kitchen, tidying up the remnants of dinner. The familiar routine brought a comforting sense of normalcy, something you could almost see yourself doing every night with the woman. You remind yourself to snap right the fuck out of that quickly. As you washed dishes and put away leftovers, you began to catch up, just like you used to.

You talked about everything—college life, future plans, and the little things that made up your daily lives. Your conversation was filled with warmth and intense attentiveness from the older woman, a testament to the bond you had always shared. While you were sure now that she hadn’t grown to be less fond of you in the couple of years you’d spent apart, there was certainly something different about the way she looked at you now. Her gaze seemed more heavy now, lingering longer and often wandering a bit, the ventures so slight you thought you were imagining them.

“Remind me again how old you are now, honey?” Wanda speaks out as she dries her hands and grabs a wine glass for herself. “I’m 22 now, Ms. Maximoff.” She grabs another glass at the end of your sentence. “Well then, call me Wanda, sweetheart! You’re a big girl now, yeah?” she insists as she turns around to face you again with two bottles of wine in her hand, chewing lightly on her bottom lip. “Which one?” She straightens her elbows out for you to read the labels, and you’re grateful for the distraction from your reddened cheeks she provides you with.

“Um…… this one, on the left.” You point to a sauvignon blanc randomly, not too knowledgeable about wine. “Good choice.” She winks and brings the glasses, a corkscrew, and the bottle and you two make your way to the family room. The room was slightly dark now, lit only by a few warm-toned decorative lamps sprinkled throughout the room.

You take a seat on one of the remaining stools from your fond childhood memories with the woman, adjacent from the cushion Wanda takes her seat on, her legs curled with her heels under herself while she rests on the armrest of the sofa and leans her side into it. Her sweater falls off of her shoulder, exposing her collarbone as she lets her hair down from the clip it was in.

You watch in awe as the long scarlet waves cascade down in such a fluid movement around her shoulders, bringing your hand to your mouth to bite down on your index fingernail to keep from letting out the sigh that was now crawling up your throat at the sight.

However, it becomes so much more impossible to restrain yourself when the older woman leans forward and grips your wrist harshly, bringing your hand back down to your lap, and then swiping the proof of your former actions off of your bottom lip with the pad of her thumb.

“You really shouldn’t mess up your nails like that, honey. Nasty habit.” Her voice came out lower and with a bit more of a rasp than usual, the late hour of the night affecting her tone. “Sorry, Ms. Maximoff.” You try to chuckle it off, dumbfounded by her simple gestures. “Hey, what did I say? Call me Wanda.” She gives you a stern look, similar to the one she gave Billy when he quipped at her in the doorway of the home upon your arrival.

“Right. I’m sorry, Wanda.” You draw out the delivery of her name, and the way the green of her eyes is overcome by her growing pupils sends goosebumps all through your skin and a shiver down your spine. “Good girl.” Before either of you could react to what she’d just said, she followed her praise up with a simple question, “Well, we can’t let this go to waste can we?” Gesturing to the bottle of wine, you giggle and shake your head.

You watch a bit too closely as she uncorks and pours out two glasses of the wine, your eyes tracing each movement of her slender fingers as if you were trying to save them in your mind in perfect detail. She hands you a glass and goes back to her reclined pose before swirling the liquid in her own glass and taking a sip. You again pay intense attention to the way her defined jaw appears impossibly sharper than usual as she drinks, the way her eyes close in bliss at the taste.

“Oh, you always were my smart girl, Y/N. You picked out a great one. Drink up, hon.” With that, she grabs the tv remote and turns it on. “What would you like to watch? I know you used to love the classics, but I’m sure you’ve developed a more evolved taste recently.”

You ponder on the question for a moment and stare back in your own distorted reflection in the wine that rests in your hand below you. “Well, it’s been out for a while, but I have been loving Orange is the New Black. If you’ve already seen it, that’s alright, you can pick!”

“Oh, I’ve seen it, but I love it. Let’s pick a good one.” She clicks through seasons and episodes before picking one she likes. You sip your drink and can’t help but hum in appreciation of the taste. Wanda’s head snaps towards the direction of your own at the sound, swiping her tongue over her teeth before practically sighing out, “You like that?” You stammer out an affirmative answer, flustered at just the sound of her voice.

You both return your attention to the tv screen, hoping for some relief from your blushing state. You find no help from the show, turning towards it to find the two main characters in an intense argument stop what they’re saying and pull each other into an intense, rough kiss… and it only leads to more. You turn slowly away from the screen and towards Wanda, desperate to see how she was reacting to the scene unfolding in front of you, but you’re met with her gaze already on you. She doesn’t look away. If anything, she analyzes you more closely, getting a feel for all of your tells, every way you’re reacting to the girls on the screen, the desperation in your pleading eyes that say everything you’re too shy to say yourself.

It’s her who finally breaks her gaze, looking back up to the screen. You take this opportunity to continue looking at her, hypnotized by her beauty, which was now illuminated by the glow of the television. She lets it happen for 5 seconds longer before snapping back to you.

“It’s rude to stare, yknow?” Dumbfounded, you reply, “Then why is it ok when you do it?” You regret it as quickly as it comes out of your mouth. She rises to her feet and places her now empty glass down on the table with such force you thought it might shatter. She takes the few steps it takes to be standing close enough to feel the heat radiating off of your skin and grabs your jaw harshly.

“Watch your mouth.” And then she’s walking off to her bedroom. You’re truly shocked as you down the rest of your glass, clear both of them as they’re now empty, and turn off the tv. You sit out in the room for a bit longer, just gathering the courage to walk down the hallway to enter your room that shared a wall with Wanda’s. You finally do, your steps not making a sound as you approach the room because of how slowly you’re going. You finally take a seat on your bed and scroll through varying socials when you start to hear… buzzing?

After being frozen in your tracks, you walk up to the wall that you share with Wanda… and that’s definitely buzzing. And moaning. You know you should walk away from the wall and respect Wanda’s privacy, she probably didn’t even know you were in the room yet because of how quietly you entered it, but you seemed to be magnetically pulled towards it. You were about to snap out of your trance when you heard something awfully familiar. Was she saying your name?

You press your ear to the wall. You hear her let out a noise a bit more broken and higher pitched than the rest of the string of moans you’d heard her emit before… and then nothing. You were left to wonder what it really was that you’d heard her say just moments before, sounding so similar to your name. But you must’ve been imagining that.

You get in bed, replaying the short sounds you’d heard minutes before in your head and wishing you’d cleaned up and made your way to the room just a bit more quickly, but almost simultaneously glad you didn’t- you didn’t need that kind of delusion fuel. You drift off to the memory of the older woman’s blissful sounds.

………………………………………………………………………… Thats all for part/night 1 of this new story! Please let me know if you like where it’s headed so far and if there’s anything you’d like to see in the following parts :)

tags: @ahintofchaos @bees-for-brains @scxrlett-wid0w

#wandamaximoffxreader #wandamaximoff #wanda x reader #wandamaximoffsmut #wlw

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athenamikaelson · 6 months ago

Text

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 11

Word Count- 3.8k

Warnings- Mentions of Suicide(Damon trying to die because of his wolf bite), swearing, death, blood, gun/gun-shot wounds, smaller chapter but big things happening cliffhanger ending

“Yes, Elena. Once again, I’m fine. I have to go run an errand and then I’ll see you guys at the square. OK? Toodles!”

I quickly hung up my phone, just in case Elena decided to ask what errand I was running. How the hell am I supposed to tell her I’m going to try to talk a dying Damon Salvatore off the ledge?

It’s been two days since Demon dropped the bomb that he was dying and then disappeared. He hasn’t answered my calls and whenever I ask Stefan about him he says “I’m working on it.” Not well enough, clearly, because the Bunny Eater called me 30 minutes ago telling me Damon just tried lighting himself on fire and he needs my help talking him down. I’m not sure why I’m the one he called for this since I’ve heard Damon on more than one occasion say he’d rather die than listen to me speak.

Damon and Stefan have made me keep quiet about this, so no one else but us three knows. Which is why I fibbed a bit on my phone call with Elena. I’m not entirely on board with keeping this a secret. What do the Salvatores think is going to happen when the werewolf bite kills Damon? Just tell everyone Damon went upstate to a farm, just like what parents tell their children when their turtles or dogs die.

Although Damon and I have had our differences, I can admit the thought of him dying doesn’t sit well with me. Especially since he got bit trying to stop the ritual. Even though it didn’t stop it, it did save Tyler and Caroline. Who I guess was replaced by that bitch Jules and some random vampire Klaus had in his back pocket.

I take a deep breath as I exit my car and walk up to the front door of the Salvatore house. I don’t bother knocking since everyone kind of just lets themselves in when it comes to this place. I’m about to call out for Stefan but within a moment he’s flashed in front of me.

“Oh good lord,” I clutch my chest in surprise. At this Stefan’s eyes widen and he reaches out to me.

“I’m sorry, Y/n! Is it your heart again? Do you need anything? Here take some of my blood,” Stefan frantically says.

I put both of my hands up and shake them, “Stefan calm down dude, okay? I’m good, you just scared me. I’ve got to start getting you vamps little bells to wear around your necks.”

Stefan slightly laughs but I can still see the weariness in his eyes.

“Really Stefana, I’m good.”

Stefan sighs and nods, “Sorry, I just…with everything going on I’m just…,” Stefan rubs his hand over his face and now I can clearly see the exhaustion and sadness on it.

I take a step closer and wrap my arms around him in a hug, “It’ll be ok, we’ll figure it out, alright?”

Stefan doesn’t say anything but I feel him nod as he wraps his arms around me tighter as if me hugging him is the only thing keeping him grounded. And after seeing his older brother trying to light himself on fire, it might just be.

After another moment Stefan releases me and smiles at me but it doesn't reach up all the way.

“He’s down here,” He says and I follow him down to where Elijah was when he was daggered.

At the thought of the Original my heart sinks. It’s been three days since I’ve seen or heard from him. Each time I hear my phone ring a small part of me expects it to be him with his stupid posh accent telling me he’s sorry for ghosting me, but every time I answer it’s never him. I’ve tried to distract myself with hanging out with the girls, or Theo, and even the occasional phone call with Jenna who talks to me a lot now about the supernatural since we both learned about it recently. Bonnie and I have also been going through her deceased Gram’s grimoires and things to see if we can find anything on why my chest bled and then magically healed itself, but nothing comes up. It’s disheartening but Bonnie says she won’t stop searching until she’s found the reason. Our time together has made me realize just how good of a friend Bonnie is. She’s loyal and kind and she’d fight for her friends until her dying breath. Which is sadly something she has already done once. I really like hanging out with her and her teaching me more about her world. I may not understand much about witches but it’s nice to see how excited she gets when she talks about it.

“Are you going to be good down here by yourself,” Stefan leans down to whisper to me.

“What,” I question now realizing he’s been talking this entire time.

“I have to go to the square to go speak to Elena but after I’ll be back. Just whatever he says, don’t let him out. Ric should be here soon too. He can take your place when he gets here.”

I do a soldier’s salute and he rolls his eyes as he walks back upstairs. Leaving me and Grumpy down here by ourselves. The door that separates us is big and wooden with a small window that has three metal bars. I look through and frown when I see Damon scrunched up, sitting on the far side of the room.

“Are you going to eat me if I come in?”

“Drinking your blood would be a fate worse than death,” Damon’s scratchy voice speaks up after a moment.

I roll my eyes as I unlock the door and push it open, I quickly make my way inside and close it. I lean against the door and cross my arms as I look at the dying vampire in front of me.

“Stefan really thought you of all people would be the one to talk me off the ledge,” Damon grunts out as he puts his head up to look at me.

“That’s exactly what I said. I told him you’d be more likely to do it again after hearing me speak,” I laugh out.

Damon’s upper lip twitches for a moment and he lets out a strangled laugh, “You’re not wrong.

We’re both quiet for a moment before Damon speaks up again, “I’m going to die.”

I take a deep breath and sit down against the door mirroring Damon, “At the moment, yes you are.”

Damon raises an eyebrow at me, “So you’re not going to fill me with fairy tales about some special cure and that by tomorrow I’ll be fresh as a daisy?”

I shrug my shoulders, “Is that what you want me to do?”

Damon stares at me for a moment and then shakes his head, “No, I don’t.”

“Alright then. Works for me. You know, Stefan called me to try to talk you down because he thinks what you did was crazy. But… I understand why you did it.”

This captures Damon’s attention as he stares questioningly at me, “You do?”

I nod as I play with a loose thread on my shirt, “Ya. You’re scared. And in pain. You think this is the only way out, but it isn’t. And I’m not saying that because of some magical cure. I’m saying that because you still have time left to say your goodbyes and to be with those who actually care about you. Even though you’re an actual hellspawn. I know that this is scary, you’ve been alive for over a century and now you’re facing mortality for the first time in years. I would be scared too.”

Damon’s jaw clenches and for a moment I think he’s mad but when I see him turn his head to stare at the wall next to him I realize he’s trying to hide his emotions.

“Damon you can stare at that wall all you’d like but I meant what I said.”

At the sound of footsteps, I stand up.

“Ric’s here. Try not to be such an ass to him. You’re kind of like his only friend,” When he doesn’t make any noise about my joke I frown and start to unlatch the door, “I’m glad I met you, Damon. I don’t tell a lot of people that, but it’s true. Thanks for bringing out a fire in me I didn’t know I had.”

Damon says nothing and I quickly wipe a stray tear from my face as I open the door.

“I’m glad I met you too, Y/N. Even though you’re a pain in the ass,” I turn and make eye contact with Damon, and even though the room is dark, I swear I can see small tears building in his blue eyes, “I don’t believe in next lives or whatever…but if they somehow exist, I wouldn’t mind meeting you again in that one, Pukey.”

I let out a small sob as I run over to the seated man and throw my arms over him. He lets out a grunt of surprise and after a moment he wraps his arms around me and I can feel the dampness from his tears on my shirt.

“If you tell anyone about this I’ll kill you,” He tries to threaten but his voice comes out strained so it doesn’t hold much punch.

“Ya whatever, Demon.”

—

It’s night by the time I get to the square for whatever movie night the town’s having. Elena asked me to come earlier since she says everyone needs a break from all the chaos that has happened. I’m not excited to see how she’s going to react to the news about Damon. But for now, I’m grabbing my fluffy blanket and walking towards my friends and watching this stupid movie.

Jenna, Jeremy, Bonnie, and Caroline all sit together talking as I walk up behind them.

“Hey guys,” I say and they all spin around to look at me. Bonnie and Jenna both send me warm smiles and waves, Caroline hops up and guides me over to the group talking my ear off already, and Jeremy tries to send me a smile but that dude looks like he would rather be anywhere else.

“What errand took you so long,” Caroline questions.

“Oh, Theo just needed some help bringing back his football gear and stuff. I guess the coach has been bothering him to get it back for weeks since the season ended,” I say which isn’t a total lie since I did do that after leaving the Salvatores.

“How is Theo,” Jeremy asks.

Ever since the funeral Jeremy and Theo have been gaming together. When I asked Theo about it, he said he was doing it out of pity and that someone as cool as him wouldn’t hang out with an emo like Jeremy. But after passing by Theo’s room and hearing him and Jeremy laugh and make fun of each other over call, I don’t think Theo is really doing this out of pity anymore. After moving here and with everything that has happened with our parents it’s been hard for Theo to make friends. Even though he says otherwise. I know he has people to hang out with at school, but it’s all brainless jocks who probably don’t even care to know my brother’s favorite color. He needs a good friend like Jeremy in his life.

“Theo’s good. Even though he was pissy this morning because he says you cheated last night,” I admit to him as I sit down next to Jenna and Caroline.

Jeremy shoots me a look of disbelief, “I did not cheat! That jerk! He’s the one who cheated,” Jeremy lifts up his phone and starts angrily texting someone. A someone, who I’m guessing is my brother.

I look around noticing the absence of my best friend, “Where’s Elena?”

They all look at each other wearily before Bonnie grabs my hand, “You might want to prepare yourself for this.”

I look at her confused for a moment and whisper, “Is this about the Damon thing?”

“You knew?!’’

“What?”

“Excuse me?”

“Bro!”

They all yell out and I raise my hands in surrender, “Hey! Stefana and Demon made me keep quiet. They didn’t want to stress anyone else out more.”

“How long have you known,” Caroline asks me and I grimace, “Like… since John’s funeral.”

“Y/N!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It just wasn’t my place to say.”

They think about this for a moment before nodding.

“Elena went to go talk to Damon and Stefan is off trying to find a cure,” Bonnie says.

“Let’s hope he finds one in time.”

We all quiet down after a moment and go back to watching the movie, but 5 minutes later I feel a tap on my right shoulder.

I shoot Jenna a questioning look as she leans down to whisper to me, “Anything from Elijah?”

I just send her a small shake of my head and she returns it with a comforting smile and a squeeze to my shoulder, “His loss then.”

Over the past few days of Jenna and I talking about the supernatural, we’ve also been chatting about other things like school and relationships. It took me a while to open up but after I did I brought up Elijah. Talking to Jenna about Elijah, and everything that’s happened with him has actually made me feel somewhat better. Jenna’s been more of a mother figure to me these past three days than my own mother has in almost 18 years.

Out of the corner of my eye, Jeremy quickly stands up, capturing all of our attention.

He hangs up the phone and turns back to us with a nervous look, “Damon escaped and Elena wasn’t there yet so Ric thinks he’s coming here to see her. Ric says the bite is making him hallucinate so he’s not himself right now.”

“Fantastic,” I mutter to myself and Jenna slightly elbows me and shoots me a disapproving look.

“If Damon is off the rails, there is nothing you can do to stop him. Let us take care of it,” Bonnie gestures towards herself, and Caroline and I want to groan at this. It’s really starting to piss me off how the supernaturals keep pushing us humans away every time we want to help. Just because we don’t have super strength or heal within a split second doesn’t mean we’re useless.

“You keep doing this! You left me behind before, and guess what, Elena was still killed,” Jeremy exclaims to his girlfriend, “I’m going to find my sister. You go ahead and try to stop me. Y/N, Jenna, you with me?”

Jenna instantly nods and I shoot a look at Bonnie and Caroline before walking towards Jeremy, “Let’s go.”

—

“There he is!”

I follow behind Jeremy as we see a wounded Damon staring off into space. Jenna left a while ago to go find Ric, leaving Little Gilbert and I to try to find Elena. “Damon,” Jeremy tries catching the attention of the delusional vamp and I watch with caution.

“Where’s Elena? I need to see Elena now,” He frantically says and I send him a smile as Jeremy walks closer to him.

“Hey, let’s get you out of here first, alright,” Jeremy grabs Damon, who instantly falls into his arms. I go to the vampire’s other side and grab his arms trying to help Jeremy with the deadweight.

After a bunch of odd stares and murmurs from passersby, we finally get Damon through the crowd and into the empty Grill.

Jeremy drops Damon off at a table and goes to tell Ric where we are. I’m still holding onto Damon's arm as I watch Jere, but turn around when I feel Damon do the same. And I freeze.

“Y/n, move I don’t want to hurt you,” Sheriff Forbes stands in front of us holding her gun and pointing at Damon.

I go to try to reason to her but Damon flashes away, spooking Liz and all I hear is the sound of a gun and a piercing in my left arm.

“Oh god,” Liz looks at me for a moment in shock but when she looks behind me her features go straight to fear.

A strangled sob escapes my mouth as I watch Jeremy fall to the floor, his once-grey shirt turning red, as blood spills from his chest.

“What the hell did you do,” I scream at Liz as I run over to Jeremy with tears in my eyes.

I strip off my sweatshirt and place it over his bleeding chest.

“Come on Jeremy, you’re going to be alright,” I sob, “You’re going to be alright Jere,”

Another sob comes from my mouth as Jeremy’s shaking hand grabs mine for comfort.

“I know this hurts but I have to keep pressure on it, okay. You’re going to be just fine.”

I can hear Liz call for paramedics as she tries to move my hands so she can hold down the sweatshirt.

“Don’t you dare,” I snarl at her and she sits back.

“Jeremy…Hey! Jere,” I shake my head as he closes his eyes.

Bonnie and Caroline rush up to us and Caroline gently sets me back so she can try to help Jeremy. I sit there with silent sobs as I watch Bonnie tell Caroline that Jeremy’s ring won't bring him back since the sheriff is human.

Caroline bites into her wrist and places it onto Jeremy’s mouth, “Go on, Jeremy. Drink.”

“What are you doing,” The sheriff questions her daughter even though she is not the one who should be speaking at all right now.

“I’m helping him.”

I sit there with tears in my eyes as Jeremy doesn’t wake up and I know it’s because he’s dead. The others must realize this too because they all sit back with sobs of their own. The sound of a door opening captures my attention and I look up to see Ric and Jenna staring over at us.

“Bonnie what’s wrong,” Ric asks as he and Jenna run over to us. As soon as they see Jeremy though they halt. Jenna instantly falls to her knees crying and I crawl over to her ignoring the shooting pain in my arm. I grab her into my arms and she instantly latches to me and sobs into my shoulder.

“I know what I need to do,” Bonnie says aloud as she stands, “I need you to grab him. T-Take him with us.”

“No, no, no, no. You can’t move him. This is a crime scene,” Liz tries denying which has me wanting to smack her. Jeremy’s dead all because of a prejudice she has.

“Mom, just let them go,” Caroline tells her mother and Liz stands up so Ric can grab Jeremy’s body.

“Okay. Alright, come here, buddy. I got you,” Ric says and I hug Jenna tighter.

—-

Bonnie sits in front of us chanting over Jeremy’s body. Candles around us burn hotter as Bonnie shakes her head, “No.”

“What? What is it,” Ric asks.

“They’re angry at me for coming back here. They don’t wanna help.”

I shake my head in denial.

“Well, they have to.”

Bonnie looks at Jeremy with tears in her eyes, “They said there’ll be consequences.”

“Well, he’s just a kid. Tell’em to shut up.”

Bonnie continues chanting and the witch house starts to shake.

“Emily! I know you’re there. Please help me. I love him.”

Jenna, Ric, and I watch in silent horror as everything stops and Jeremy is still lifeless. Bonnie cries holding him and Jenna crawls over to her dead nephew.

I look down at Jeremy and let out a sob of relief as I see him flutter his eyes open.

I sigh deeply as I watch Jenna and Bonnie hug Jeremy.

“Y/N?”

I turn to Ric who is staring at my arm, I watch as he slowly lifts his fingers and touches my shirt. I fight the urge to groan in annoyance as I look at the fresh blood on his fingers.

“Anyone want to take me to the hospital?”

—

“OK, so it appears you’ve lost quite a bit of blood,” The doctor tells me as he tapes gauze over the gunshot wound on my shoulder. I have a gunshot wound. I was shot. What the hell?! Somehow the bullet that killed Jeremy went right through the upper part of my shoulder.

Ric and Jenna had dropped me off about an hour ago. They insisted on staying, but I told them my mother would be here soon and they should get back to Jeremy.

“We’re going to have to give you some blood. Do you happen to know what you’re blood type is? It appears that on your medical records, your mother and father’s blood types are listed but yours isn’t.”

I shake my head, “I’ve never had to get blood drawn before so I don’t know.”

The doctor nods, “That’s fine. We would give you the universal donor blood but for some reason, we’ve had a shortage in blood lately,” I nod along as if I don’t know exactly why that is, “But we’ll take some of your blood and do a test then find out what your type is.”

I nod and thank him.

“We called your mother but it seems she can’t get out of work and your father didn’t answer. Is there anyone else you’d like to call to be with you?”

My heart hurts as I think about how both my parents couldn’t bother to come to see their own daughter in the hospital, “Um...no thank you. I’m alright.”

The doctor sends me a smile, but he looks almost as hurt about my parents not being here as I am. Tell me about it man. I watch silently as he takes a vial of my blood, tells me he’ll have my results soon, and then leaves.

Great who the hell is going to drive me home?

—

I’m awoken by a small shake to my uninjured shoulder. I squint my eyes to see the doctor from before looking down at me wearily.

At this, I try to sit up but waves of pain stop me.

“Don’t move sweetheart it’ll just rip open your stitches,” The doctor gently pushes me back down. But the look on his face makes me nervous.

“Is everything ok,” I question.

The doctor is silent before he shows me a blood bag, “I was able to find a match for you, but… your blood type is Type B,” His tone and words confuse me. Wouldn’t he be relieved he was able to find me blood?

“I don’t understand,” I shake my head in confusion.

“I don’t know if I should be telling you this without a parent present. I could be fired,” He says to himself as if he’s fighting some internal battle.

“Please… what are you talking about?”

The doctor places a hand on my shoulder and frowns at me, “Your mother’s blood type is Type A, and your father’s is Type O,” At the confusion still clearly on my face he sighs, “Genetically those two blood types combinations can only produce Type A and O children. So…”

My entire world seems to come down crashing on top of me as he finishes his sentence.

“You can’t be related, biologically, to your father.”

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fangdokja · 8 days ago

Note

Yoo, can I ask a question? - yandere (of course) tartaglia, wanderer (or scaramouche) and kazuha, with a reader who has.. a slightly interesting temper, that is, the reader has an unconventional, sarcastic, extremely cynical sense of humor) humor is the reader's protective reflex, maybe.. The reader is constantly trying to turn everything into humor,often makes sarcastic little comments even if at the wrong moment.. (but reader still manages to make people laugh) Maybe this is a bit of a strange request, but why not? (I just often see how in yandere fics the reader is assigned almost the same behavior, I would like to read something new, and besides, you are one of my favorite yandere writers!) I hope my request complied with your rules, because there are SO MANY OF THEM.. I don't even remember some of them lol.. I'll be glad if you accept my request! thank you 💋

Too many thoughts, not enough brain cells. Let’s see what happens.

❤︎ Synopsis. A chaotic whirlwind of sarcasm and unfiltered humor, you—channeling the energy of Gojo Satoru—navigates life like it's a comedy show. Nothing is too serious, and everything’s an opportunity for a joke—even when the world’s falling apart.

♡ Book. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Genshin Impact Males (Tartaglia, Wanderer, Kazuha) x Fem. Gojo (?)! Reader (separate?)

♡ Headcanon. Humor First, Consequences Later - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 12,339

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, general non-con + manipulation, angst + tragedy, sexual themes

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.

♡ A/N #1. This turned out longer than it was supposed to be......... but it was necessary for the build-up. So waha. And, this definitely has a different formatting and plot development style from all my other works (especially formatting), but that was done on purpose. And, yes, I'm putting this story in WITD, despite it's length, because of the formatting. Well, either way, hope you all enjoy :))

♡ A/N #2. Thank you for the support and reading so far, I appreciate it and also for taking the time to read the RULES. But, I have to inform you all on some important rules especially. As mentioned in my rules, requesters aren’t allowed to assign behavior towards the reader. For only MY works particularly, I agree that most of the behavior of reader is generally the same. Why? Well, simple, I hardly encounter self inserts with apathetic, actually not emotional readers. I lack book food. There are SO MANY emotional readers inserts. And even sarcastic sassy ones. I have no food. So I cooked my own food instead. I’ve read so many over the years, that honestly? The ones close to my personality are ALWAYS original novels with male characters. Literally Fang Yuan from Reverend Insanity cooks hardest, and even then there was that stupid part in almost Chapter 3k mark that I hated. Because they added emotions and shiz. And here I thought I found a true villain character. Small rant. But even then only he cooks really, both intelligence wise and even personality wise. No one has even beaten Fang Yuan in terms of strategy and intelligence from books that I haven’t created.

♡ A/N #3. I get it. Females are emotionally built, even biologically. But, I’m not overly emotional. I can act it, but feeling it? No. I can create other personality readers. I’ve literally written a lot of OC’s from thinkers to feelers so I can. But. Guys. I also self-insert myself in these stories whahaha. It’s not exactly my personality, but it’s still part of me. However, I’ll make an exception this time since I just released a new book, “Whispers In The Dark” for short stories. Since I’m actually a person who dislikes reading self inserts with mean readers of any kinds. This does not sound humble at all, but I’m not a mean person at all if it comes to commentary. I just keep to myself or keep my mouth shut. And I also HATE reading main characters with tempers. Probably because, I have a very mellow personality in reality. And emotions? Hardly feel anything tbh.

♡ A/N #4. Anyways so I won’t get mad when writing this, here’s basically a Gojo inspired Reader. Most ENTP’s (especially 8w7 and 7w8) are relatable to me, and I relate to Gojo a lot. Never simped, but I relate. But, next time, to anyone. I will NEVER be writing content that assigns a personality to reader. It’s one of the few things I have freedom in to just enjoy writing. I would honestly just get really irritated if I had to follow a set personality to reader. Yeah, I may write consistently the same reader, but that like genuinely makes me happy to write a reader that I can finally relate to. I hardly find stories like that. Much more in reader inserts. I hope you all understand. Kind of pathetic to say “I just wanna have fun”. But, it’s true and foundational to me. I have a difficult time writing if I’m not having fun.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia (Childe) who first noticed you in the midst of a chaotic battlefield, blades clashing and blood splattering in all directions. He was there for his own mission, but your laughter—loud, sardonic, and downright inappropriate—caught his attention.

You’d just disarmed one of his men with a sarcastic comment and a flashy spin move, only to remark, “Well, that’s one way to make him stop talking.” Tartaglia’s first thought was: This one gets it.

The two of you had crossed paths before, but this was different. You fought with a ferocity he hadn’t seen in a long time, and the fact that you seemed entirely unfazed by the danger surrounding you only intrigued him further.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who you clashed blades with in the middle of a chaotic battlefield. The air was thick with violence and the sound of metal, but there you were, laughing through the chaos.

"Well, this is fun! Is this your idea of a date, or should I try harder?" you joked, dodging his ruthless strikes with a grin that could only be described as wicked. Tartaglia couldn’t stop himself from grinning back, impressed by your chaotic energy and your apparent lack of fear.

"You're bold, I'll give you that," he quipped, flipping his spear expertly. "But I gotta ask—are you always this insufferable, or am I just lucky?"

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who first noticed you during a chaotic battlefield where chaos was your language, and you spoke it fluently. You both crashed into each other mid-fight, swords clashing in a brutal rhythm, but the moment his eyes locked with yours—amidst the blood, the screams, and the madness—he felt a jolt of recognition.

Not of fear, no, but of pure chaotic understanding. "Well, well, well, looks like you're not just another pretty face—you're a disaster in the best way possible."

You didn't miss a beat, "Flattery will get you nowhere, buddy. But I’ll take it. You really should work on your aim though."

Despite being enemies in that instant, he couldn’t help but enjoy the way you threw yourself into battle—your sarcasm as sharp as your blade. Every strike was a witty remark wrapped in bloodshed. You were an unfiltered storm of energy, and he couldn’t help but think, “This is the kind of chaos I want in my life.”

After the battle, despite the blood and sweat, you both shared a laugh as if you had just finished a light sparring session, not a life-or-death duel.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who being the chaotic soul he was, immediately clicked with you, and your shared irreverence made it impossible for him to hate you, even if you were technically enemies.

Tartaglia spoke with a handsome boyish grin, "I’m gonna need a drink after that, how about you?"

"Nah, you’ll need a bottle, pal. But we both know you’re a lightweight."

"You wound me."

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer (Scaramouche) who hated you immediately. The moment he met you, you gave him the most obnoxious smirk and made some comment about how “intense” he looked, like a lost kitten trying to be menacing. You couldn't help it—his dramatic aura was begging for a punchline.

“Oh, look. A robot with an existential crisis. What’s next, a lecture on how you’re misunderstood by the world?” The sheer audacity of your sarcasm sent a shockwave through him, one that made him freeze for a split second.

“I’d ask you to smile, but I’m pretty sure that would crack your face,” you quipped, and the cold, calculating expression he wore only made it worse. He stared at you with thinly veiled contempt, his distaste for your flippant attitude and sarcasm immediate.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who hated you even more when you opened your mouth. During a tense moment of political intrigue, Wanderer was deep in a conversation with some high-ranking officials, trying to manipulate them for his own advantage, when you interrupted with a perfectly timed comment.

"Wow, these people talk more than my grandmother at Christmas dinner. Do they even hear themselves?"

The room went dead silent. Wanderer’s eyes narrowed as he turned to look at you, trying to figure out who this... jester was. Your irreverent attitude was a sharp contrast to his own cold, calculating nature.

"Are you always this... unbearable?" he asked, his voice laced with disdain.

"Well, only when I’m surrounded by such charming people like you," you replied, not a hint of fear in your voice.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who didn’t know how to handle your complete lack of respect. He saw you as an irritating fly—one he couldn’t just swat away because of your sharp tongue and unpredictable nature. But that didn’t stop the twisted curiosity that started to bloom in him. Maybe he hated you, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy watching you twist every interaction into a dark comedy sketch.

“Do you always treat people like this?” he sneered, but you only shrugged.

“Nah, just you,” you replied with a wink, “but don’t feel too special. I hate everyone equally.”

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who, unlike the others, didn’t immediately form an opinion about you. You met him on a peaceful evening, sitting by the fire as you shared a drink.

"Nice music, but tell me—do you ever sing songs about decapitations or revenge? You know, the classics," you asked, leaning against a tree with a mischievous grin. Kazuha blinked, momentarily thrown off balance by your unexpected question.

He chuckled, albeit nervously. "Ah, well, I do tend to favor more peaceful melodies. The world has enough violence, don’t you think?"

You shrugged dramatically. "Sure, but I think it’s just a matter of perspective. You’ve never heard a good ‘revenge ballad,’ have you? Something with blood, guts, and a sweet vengeance story?"

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who was calm, collected, and in no hurry to make judgments about people.

"You’ve got a sharp tongue," Kazuha remarked with a soft laugh, sensing the tension you carried beneath your humor.

"Sharp enough to cut through all the nonsense in the world," you replied with a smirk. "It’s a survival tactic, you know? Get too serious, and people start thinking you’re a threat."

Kazuha chuckled, but there was a quiet understanding in his eyes. Unlike Wanderer, who despised your sarcasm, Kazuha found a strange comfort in it.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who spent hours talking with you—half serious, half joking—and by the end of the night, you couldn’t quite tell if Kazuha had warmed to you or simply found your humor amusing. He was neutral, calm, but there was something about your cynicism that tugged at his heart. Not in a romantic way—more like a curiosity about the darkness behind your jokes.

Despite everything, Kazuha found himself oddly protective of you, even if you were too much of a loose cannon for his liking.

"You really know how to push people’s buttons," Kazuha mused with a faint smile, sipping his drink.

"It's a gift," you replied with a grin, letting the conversation fade into the night.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who didn't dislike you. It was more that he didn’t quite understand you. He found your humor bizarre—borderline morbid, really—but at the same time, it made him appreciate the way you could maintain your composure in the face of things that would send anyone else into a frenzy. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was something magnetic about your wit, your sharp tongue, and the way you saw the world.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who couldn’t get you out of his head after that battlefield encounter.

At first, it was your audacity that stood out—who cracks jokes while fighting for their life? But as you two clashed more often, he found himself genuinely entertained by your wit. Each fight became less about winning and more about trading barbs.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia purposefully pick fights with you just to hear your comebacks. One time, mid-battle, you yelled, “You gonna twirl that spear all day, or are we actually fighting?” He almost dropped it because he was laughing so hard.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who invites you for drinks post-battle as if you’re not enemies. “Come on, you’ve earned it,” he’d say with a grin. “I’ll even let you pick the bar. But if you poison my drink, we’re gonna have a problem.”

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia becomes your unofficial sparring partner. The battles become a game of who can outwit the other with sarcastic comments.

“You call that a strike? My kid brother could hit harder,” you’d say, dodging his attack.

“Oh yeah?” he’d reply, smirking.

“Maybe I’ll let him fight you next time.”

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia when he eventually starts treating you like one of his comrades. He shares stories about his family, asks about your past (you deflect with humor), and even brings you snacks during downtime. “You fight better when you’re not hangry,” he claims.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer despises your existence but can’t seem to avoid you. Every time he’s working on some secretive plan, you pop up with a sarcastic comment.

“Wow, plotting world domination again? Don’t forget the evil laugh—it really sells it.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer tries to ignore you, but your presence grates on his nerves. “Do you ever shut up?” he snaps one day, glaring at you.

“Not if I can help it,” you reply with a smirk. “What’s the point of silence when your misery is so much fun?”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer reluctantly teams up with you during a mission. It’s strictly business, but you make it nearly impossible for him to stay professional.

“You know,” you say, “if you smiled more, people might actually like you.” He glares, but the faintest twitch of amusement betrays him.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer when for the first time he lets his guard down, it’s accidental. After a long, grueling day, you find him staring at the stars.

“So, what’s the brooding about tonight?” you ask, sitting beside him. He doesn’t answer immediately, but eventually, he mutters, “Nothing you’d understand.”

“Try me,” you challenge, and for once, he indulges you.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer begrudgingly respects your intelligence. Despite your flippant attitude, you have a knack for solving problems in ways he wouldn’t consider. He won’t admit it, but he’s impressed.

“You’re not as useless as you look,” he says one day.

“Thanks, I’ll embroider that on a pillow,” you reply.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer when your sarcasm starts to grow on him.

When someone else insults him, you’re the first to step in with a cutting remark. “Hey, I’m the only one allowed to call him insufferable, okay?”

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha meets you on a quiet evening, and your energy is a stark contrast to his calm demeanor.

“Do you ever stop being so mellow?” you ask after he recites a haiku. “What’s life without a little chaos?”

He smiles faintly and replies, “Perhaps you bring enough for both of us.”

Traveling with Kazuha feels like a comedy routine. You constantly try to bait him into arguing, but he just humors you.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you enjoy this,” you tease.

“Perhaps I do,” he replies, eyes twinkling.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha is the only one who sees the cracks in your humor.

Late one night, you sit by the fire, unusually quiet. “Even storms have calm moments,” he says softly, offering you a drink.

“Don’t get used to it,” you reply, smirking, but there’s gratitude in your eyes.

Your dark humor doesn’t faze him; if anything, he finds it endearing. When you jokingly suggest writing a song about a gruesome battle, he actually considers it.

“A ballad of bloodshed and bravery?” he muses. “Sounds poetic.”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha subtly encourages you to open up. He never pries, but his quiet patience makes it easier for you to let your guard down.

“You’re oddly calming, you know that?” you admit one day. “Like a weirdly wise fortune cookie.”

He laughs and says, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, despite his gentle nature, doesn’t hesitate to protect you. When a fight breaks out during your travels, he steps in without hesitation.

“Don’t worry,” he says, drawing his blade. “You’re not facing this alone.”

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who realizes he’s falling for you during one of your sparring sessions. You’d taken a hit—nothing serious—but enough for him to notice. After the match, he grabbed your arm, inspecting the wound with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

“Relax, Childe, it’s just a scratch,” you said, smirking through the wince.

“Stop joking for one second,” he replied, a little sharper than usual. As he wrapped the bandage around your arm, his hands were surprisingly gentle.

You tried to lighten the mood. “What, worried you’d have to explain this to my ghost?”

He didn’t laugh this time. “No, I just—” He stopped himself, his usual cocky grin faltering.

“You’re reckless, you know that? I can’t always be around to patch you up.”

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who finds himself watching you more carefully after that, his playful facade slipping every time you brush off an injury or laugh in the face of danger. It’s in those moments he realizes your humor hides something deeper—a pain he’s desperate to understand.

When you finally catch him staring, you raise an eyebrow. “What’s with the puppy-dog eyes? You’re not getting sentimental on me, are you?”

His grin returns, but there’s a softness behind it. “Maybe I just like looking at you.”

For once, your usual quip dies on your lips, and the silence between you is louder than the battlefield.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who starts noticing your distant stares during quiet moments. He catches you gazing into the horizon, your usual smirk replaced by an uncharacteristically serious expression.

“What’s wrong? Forgot your punchline?” he asks, his tone biting but not cruel.

“Just thinking,” you reply, your voice softer than he’s used to.

“That’s new,” he mutters, sitting beside you. When you don’t snap back with a retort, he frowns. “What’s going on with you?”

You shrug, deflecting with humor. “Guess I’m out of jokes for the day. Mark your calendar—it’s a historic moment.”

But he doesn’t let it go. “You can’t fool me with that act. Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who doesn’t push you to open up but finds himself frustrated by your reluctance to trust him. He hates that you make him care this much, but the thought of you being hurt—physically or emotionally—makes his chest tighten.

When you finally let out a small, dry laugh and say, “You really don’t know when to quit, huh?” he feels an odd sense of victory.

“Someone has to keep you in line,” he replies, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who finds you one evening, hunched over a journal he gifted you long ago. You’re scribbling furiously, completely absorbed, and he can’t help but smile softly at the sight.

“You’re quite the writer,” he comments, startling you.

“Geez, give a person a warning next time,” you grumble, closing the journal instinctively.

Kazuha tilts his head, amused. “What are you hiding in there? Plans for world domination?”

You smirk. “Nah, just embarrassing poetry about how much I love chaos.”

But when he gently reaches for the journal, you hesitate before handing it over. Inside, he finds sketches of places you’ve traveled together, snippets of conversations, and little notes about your adventures.

“You kept all of this?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

“Yeah, well, don’t get a big head about it,” you reply, trying to downplay the sentiment.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who notices the way your humor becomes softer, almost shy, when you talk about the memories you’ve shared. It’s in those moments he realizes how much you’ve let him into your life—even if you don’t fully trust him yet.

“You’re more sentimental than you let on,” he says with a gentle smile.

“Don’t spread that around,” you reply, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes that he treasures.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who catches you off guard one evening after a particularly intense sparring session. You’re both sitting on the ground, exhausted but grinning. He hands you a flask of water, and as you take it, your fingers brush.

“Careful, Childe,” you tease. “I might think you’re getting soft on me.”

He chuckles, but his eyes are serious. “Maybe I am. Around you, anyway.”

You pause, your usual smirk faltering as you look at him. “Don’t joke about that,” you say, your tone unusually soft.

“I’m not joking,” he replies, his voice steady. “You’re more than just a good fight to me. I care about you.”

For once, you don’t deflect. Instead, you lean back, staring up at the stars, and mutter, “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

But the way your lips twitch into a small, genuine smile doesn’t escape his notice.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, as he’s walking you back to your camp, and you stop abruptly. “Hey, Childe?”

“Yeah?”

You turn to face him, your grin replaced by something softer, almost vulnerable. “Thanks. For putting up with me.”

The warmth in your eyes is something he’s never seen before, and for the first time, you seem completely unguarded. Before you can say anything else, he cups your face with his hand, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“You’re worth it,” he murmurs, leaning in slightly. And when you don’t pull away, he closes the distance, his kiss surprisingly tender.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who finds you sitting alone under a tree, the sun setting behind you. There’s an unusual stillness in your demeanor, and he approaches cautiously.

“What’s with the brooding hero act?” he asks, sitting down beside you.

You snort. “Maybe I just like the dramatic lighting.”

But he notices the way your fingers fidget with the hem of your sleeve, a telltale sign of your unease. “You’re terrible at lying,” he mutters.

“Only to people who can’t take a joke,” you quip, but your usual bravado lacks its usual spark.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who doesn’t say anything, just sits beside you until the silence becomes comfortable. Eventually, you speak again. “Do you ever feel like… no matter what you do, you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop?”

The question surprises him, and for a moment, he doesn’t know how to respond. “All the time,” he admits, his voice quieter than usual.

You glance at him, your eyes searching his for something you can’t quite name. Then, with a small sigh, you rest your head on his shoulder. “Guess that makes two of us.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer when the gesture catches him completely off guard, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he shifts slightly to make you more comfortable, his hand twitching at his side as though debating whether to touch you.

“You’re warm,” you murmur, your voice tinged with amusement.

“And you’re annoying,” he replies, but there’s no bite in his tone.

For the first time, there’s a genuine warmth in your smile, and he can’t help but feel like he’s finally starting to understand you.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who notices the change in you during a quiet evening by the campfire. You’re holding the journal he gave you, flipping through its pages with a soft expression.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, his voice low and gentle.

You glance up, startled, and then shrug. “Just… how far we’ve come, I guess.”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who smiles, sitting beside you. “It’s been quite the journey, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you reply, your voice unusually quiet. Then, after a pause, you add, “You’ve been… really patient with me. I don’t think I ever said thanks.”

“You don’t need to,” he replies, his eyes searching yours.

“No, I do,” you insist, looking at him with an intensity that takes him by surprise. “I’m not… easy to deal with. But you stayed anyway. That means something.”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha when the vulnerability in your tone is something he’s never heard before, and he feels his chest tighten.

Without thinking, he reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. “You mean more to me than you realize,” he says softly.

You stare at him for a long moment before lacing your fingers with his. “Maybe I’m starting to get that,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

For the first time, your smile is free of sarcasm or deflection. It’s warm, genuine, and utterly disarming.

“I’ll take that as a victory,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“Don’t get used to it,” you tease, but there’s no bite in your words.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, when the firelight dances in your eyes, and he looks at you, he knows he’d follow you anywhere.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who surprises you one evening with a quiet dinner set up near a cliff overlooking the ocean. When you see the setup, complete with lanterns and freshly caught seafood, you raise an eyebrow.

“This is new,” you say, smirking. “What’s the occasion? Did someone die?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Can’t I just do something nice for you?”

“You? Nice?” you tease, plopping down onto the blanket. “You’re setting a dangerous precedent, Childe.”

As the evening wears on, the atmosphere becomes more intimate. The way he looks at you, with a rare softness in his expression, makes your usual bravado falter.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, at one point, he leans closer, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You snort, your cheeks warming. “You need to work on your pickup lines.”

But when he cups your face and kisses you, slow and deliberate, your witty comeback dies on your lips. His touch is both tender and possessive, a silent reminder that he’s already decided you’re his.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer drags you out of bed one morning, much to your annoyance. “I promise, if this isn’t life-threatening, I’m going back to sleep,” you grumble, rubbing your eyes.

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go of your wrist. “Just shut up and follow me.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer where he leads you to a secluded hilltop just as the sun begins to rise. The view is breathtaking, but you’re still half-asleep and unimpressed.

“You woke me up for this?” you ask, stifling a yawn.

“Ungrateful as always,” he mutters, crossing his arms. “I thought you’d appreciate the effort.”

Despite your sarcasm, you sit down beside him, the warmth of his shoulder brushing against yours. After a moment, you glance at him and say, “Thanks. For this, I mean.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer smirks, but there’s a faint blush on his cheeks. “Don’t get used to it.”

Later, when you’re lying back in the grass, the silence between you is surprisingly comfortable. He leans over, his fingers brushing against your jaw as he tilts your face toward his.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmurs, his lips hovering just above yours.

“Good,” you reply, grinning. And then he closes the distance, his kiss as intense and consuming as his feelings for you.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha invites you on a late-night stroll, the two of you wandering through a quiet forest illuminated by moonlight. He stops at a clearing where fireflies dance in the air, their glow reflecting in his crimson eyes.

“You sure know how to set a mood,” you say, half-joking.

He chuckles, stepping closer. “It’s not the fireflies setting the mood.”

You raise an eyebrow, your trademark smirk in place. “Kazuha, are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, when he takes your hand and pulls you closer, the teasing remark you were about to make dies in your throat. His hands rest on your waist, his touch featherlight yet grounding.

“You’re the most captivating person I’ve ever met,” he says, his voice filled with sincerity.

For once, you’re at a loss for words. Instead of replying, you pull him down into a kiss, slow and deep, the world around you fading away.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia when It’s been a year since he first confessed, and while you’ve spent most of it poking fun at his intensity, tonight feels… different. He’s pacing around your shared campsite after a mission, looking oddly nervous.

“Spit it out already,” you say, lounging on a log and stretching like you don’t have a care in the world. “You’re giving me secondhand anxiety.”

He stops, runs a hand through his hair, and takes a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking… maybe it’s time we made this official.”

You blink, sitting up. “Official?”

“You know,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Us. Together. Permanently.”

“Oh, that kind of official,” you reply, your smirk widening. “You really know how to charm a person, Ajax.”

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, before he can get defensive, you saunter over, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Relax,” you murmur, your voice dropping an octave. “I’d be stupid to say no, wouldn’t I?”

The relief in his eyes is quickly replaced by something darker, more possessive. “You really mean that?”

Your grin is wicked. “Why don’t you make me prove it?”

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who doesn’t need to be told twice. Before you know it, you’re backed against a tree, his hands roaming your body with an urgency that sends shivers down your spine.

“You’re mine now,” he growls against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Completely, utterly mine.”

“Bold of you to assume I wasn’t already,” you quip, though your voice trembles as his hands slip under your shirt.

His laugh is low, almost dangerous. “Oh, I’m going to make sure there’s no doubt left.”

The next thing you know, you’re stripped bare, pinned between him and the rough bark of the tree. His mouth is everywhere—your neck, your collarbone, the curve of your hip—leaving marks that scream possession.

“You look so perfect like this,” he mutters, his voice thick with need. “Completely at my mercy.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” you manage to say, though the tremor in your voice betrays your bravado.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia when he finally slides into you, slow and deliberate, your sharp intake of breath is all the encouragement he needs. His pace is relentless, each thrust driving you closer to the edge as he whispers possessive promises against your skin.

“You’re mine,” he repeats, over and over, his grip on your hips bruising. “No one else will ever have you.”

And as your nails rake down his back, pulling him impossibly closer, you realize you wouldn’t have it any other way.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer, when It’s late, and you’re lying together in his makeshift tent. The air between you feels heavy, charged with something unsaid. Finally, he sighs and sits up.

“You know,” he says, his tone uncharacteristically soft, “it’s been a year.”

You hum, not bothering to open your eyes. “And?”

“And I think… maybe it’s time we stop pretending this is casual,” he says, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Your eyes snap open, and you prop yourself up on your elbows. “Wanderer, are you seriously confessing again?”

He glares, but there’s no real bite to it. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” you reply, sitting up fully. “I didn’t think you were the type to get sentimental.”

“Only for you,” he mutters, his cheeks flushing.

You laugh, leaning in to kiss him. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop teasing—for tonight.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer when he pulls you onto his lap, his hands gripping your waist as his lips crash against yours. There’s nothing gentle about the way he kisses you—it’s desperate, hungry, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“You’re infuriating,” he growls, his hands sliding under your shirt to explore your bare skin.

“Good,” you breathe, grinding against him. “Wouldn’t want to make things too easy for you.”

His response is a low groan as he flips you onto your back, his body pressing you into the soft fabric of the bedroll. His eyes are dark, his expression utterly unguarded as he looks down at you.

“You’re not getting away tonight,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” you reply, smirking.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer when he enters you, it’s with a roughness that steals your breath, his movements erratic as he chases both your pleasure and his. His hands pin your wrists above your head, his lips tracing a heated path down your neck.

“You belong to me,” he whispers, his voice trembling with intensity. “No one else.”

And as your moans fill the air, his grip on you tightening, you realize there’s no point in denying it.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, where he's sitting beside you by the fire, the two of you wrapped in a comfortable silence. Kazuha leans toward you, his gaze soft yet intense.

“You’ve stayed with me for a year,” he says quietly. “I never thought I’d be lucky enough to have someone like you by my side.”

You roll your eyes, though your smile is genuine. “Are you trying to propose or something?”

His expression doesn’t change. “Maybe I am.”

The teasing remark dies on your lips as he reaches for your hand, his touch featherlight. “I want this. Us. Forever.”

You stare at him for a moment before breaking into a grin. “Well, I’m not exactly in the habit of saying no to you, am I?”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who kisses you then, slow and deliberate, his hands cradling your face like you’re something precious.

When he lays you down by the fire, his movements are unhurried, each touch a silent declaration of his devotion. His hands roam your body, mapping every curve as his lips press heated kisses along your skin.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion.

“Show me,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

And he does.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha when he finally joins with you, it’s slow, almost reverent, his movements guided by the need to make you feel every ounce of his love. His hands never leave your body, his lips pressing soft kisses against your neck, your shoulder, your lips.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice raw with sincerity.

And as the firelight dances across your intertwined bodies, you realize you’ve never felt more adored—or more his.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, as he stands on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the vast expanse of the ocean, his mind races. He’s been with you for over a year, and it’s been nothing short of perfect, even if you’re still your usual teasing self. But he knows, deep down, that he can’t wait any longer. He’s made up his mind.

Marry me, he thinks, the words swirling in his mind. It’s not a question, not really. It’s an inevitable conclusion. You’re his. You’ll always be his. The only thing left is to make sure you understand that—completely.

“You’d be the perfect wife,” he mutters to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips. He envisions you, sitting next to him by the fire, laughing, living, thriving beside him. He imagines it all, and it feels… right. It’s what he deserves.

But the question is: How?

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, as his eyes scan the horizon, searching for inspiration. The right setting, he thinks. It has to be memorable. Something personal, something only the two of you can share. Not just some grand spectacle that’ll make you feel overwhelmed—something that’ll make you want to say yes without hesitation.

Or maybe I should take you by surprise, he contemplates, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. A more intimate, private moment. No distractions. Just the two of you, alone, with nothing but his love wrapping around you.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, where his mind races through countless scenarios—by the water, under the moonlight, with nothing but the sound of the waves crashing at your feet. Or maybe in the heat of the moment, when you’re both caught up in your passion, when the connection between you two is raw and undeniable.

But one thing is clear: Tartaglia knows you’ll say yes. You’ll have to. You’re already his.

He just has to make sure you see it, too. That you realize how deep his love goes. That you understand the intensity of what he’s offering. This isn’t just a ring. It’s a lifetime of devotion and passion.

After a long silence, his eyes harden with resolve. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make you mine forever.”

The plan is set. Now all he has to do is wait for the right moment to make you his wife.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer, where two months have passed since that night in the tent, and Wanderer can’t stop thinking about how perfect it is between you two. It’s a strange thing, this feeling in his chest that grows stronger with each passing day.

You’re mine, he thinks, but now, it’s not enough to just claim you. He wants more. He wants you by his side forever. He wants you to carry his name, to have no other but him in your life.

There’s something about you, the way you challenge him, the way you fight him. It stirs something inside him, something primal, something that says, this is the person you’ve been waiting for.

“Marriage,” he mutters to himself. The thought comes to him like a sudden revelation, like the answer to a question he didn’t know he was asking. He doesn’t even blink. It just feels right.

But how? How can he make sure you understand that this isn’t just a casual decision? That he’s serious?

♡ Yandere! Wanderer rolls over in bed, staring at the ceiling. A ring? A symbol of ownership, of course. Something that marks you as his. But how does he make it clear to you that he wants this—wants you—forever?

His thoughts are a whirlwind. He knows that he can’t just come out and ask you. Not like that. You’re too clever, too observant for something so simple. No, he’ll have to make it special.

Perhaps somewhere secluded, just the two of you, far from anyone who could interrupt. He’ll show you his commitment, and then, in the silence of your shared space, he’ll make his declaration. A vow, a promise.

The problem is, he doesn’t trust himself not to just take you right then and there. The idea of you in a white dress, standing beside him, gives him a rush of desire so intense it nearly overwhelms him. But he knows that’s not what he wants.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer wants you to want this, too. Not out of obligation, but because you feel it, because you understand the gravity of what he’s offering.

But how can he make you feel that way? How can he show you that, even though he’s never been one for sentimentality, with you… he’s willing to change?

Wanderer sits up, his eyes narrowed as he thinks it over. He’ll need to be patient, let the moment come naturally, and then when it does…

He’ll claim you forever.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, where it's been two months after that night by the fire, his feelings for you have only deepened. He’s spent hours thinking about how to make the moment special, wondering how best to express his love. The idea of forever with you fills him with a warmth he can’t quite put into words.

You’ve been his muse for so long, and now, he wants to make you his in the most meaningful way he can think of.

The problem is… he’s never been good at this. How does one ask for someone’s hand in marriage without sounding cliché or desperate? How can he ask you to be with him forever when everything about him feels so transient?

♡ Yandere! Kazuha watches the wind rustle through the trees, lost in thought. The answer isn’t obvious, but it’s there, in the quiet moments he shares with you. He needs it to be personal, a reflection of the time you’ve spent together, of the bond you’ve created.

A small, intimate setting—a secluded beach at sunset, perhaps. The two of you alone, just like the first night you truly opened up to each other. He’ll ask you when the moment feels right, when the connection between you is so palpable it fills the air.

A simple question, but with everything he is.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha chuckles to himself softly. It doesn’t need to be grand. What matters is that you’ll be his, and he’ll be yours, forever.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia when the world slows, and his heart stops for just a moment, realizing that the blow meant for him has fallen upon you instead. You stand between him and the Abyss, your eyes wide in pain as the deadly weapon pierces your body. His breath catches in his throat.

"No..." he whispers, his voice broken as he crawls toward you, blood seeping from your wound.

Your lips curve into a sad, knowing smile, but it’s sharp. "Go," you command, every ounce of strength focused on keeping him safe, even as the life begins to drain from you. "Get out of here. I’ll hold them off. You have to survive. It’s not your time yet."

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia where his entire world crumbles. He can’t think. He can’t breathe. "I won’t leave you," he growls, trying to rise, but the weight of his own failure pulls him back down.

"You will," you say, your voice steady, but you can feel the darkness creeping in. "You will, Ajax. I love you... I always have." Your eyes lock, your gaze filled with such quiet resolve that it nearly breaks him. "I’m yours... but you have to keep fighting... For us."

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia before he can protest, before he can beg, you make your move. With every ounce of your strength, you grab the closest enemy and pull them down with you into the depths of the Abyss, dragging their weapons into the chasm alongside you. You force them all to fall, ensuring they can’t escape with you, ensuring that Tartaglia gets the chance to survive.

"Go!" you scream one last time. "Now!"

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, with every fiber of his being, refuses. His body trembles, his heart splintering into pieces as he watches you disappear into the darkness. He screams your name, his voice thick with despair and rage.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, when you’re gone, when you’ve been consumed by the Abyss and he’s left behind, alone with the silence, he’s never felt more hollow. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since you vanished—days, weeks, or mere minutes. Time has no meaning when you’ve lost the only thing that has ever mattered to you.

But he will find you.

His eyes darken with madness as he stands, his entire body burning with fury. He will never stop searching for you. You think you can escape him? He will tear apart the world, the Abyss, and everything between him and you. If it takes years, if it takes an eternity, he will find you.

The ring in his pocket feels like a weight he can’t carry without you, but he will find a way to make the promise real. The promise he made to you. To love you, forever.

He stands, his fists clenched. The hunt begins.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer, as his eyes narrow. "Stay close," he commands. The two of you fight side by side, effortlessly synchronizing your movements as you’ve done countless times before. You’re unstoppable—until today.

Suddenly, the world tilts. A strange force pulls at the very air around you. The weapons they wield are like nothing you’ve seen before. A barrage of magical projectiles rains down from every direction, each one more powerful than the last, each one seemingly tailored to exploit your weaknesses.

You’re fast, but not fast enough. Your energy wanes. Wanderer's face flickers with concern as he fights to protect you, but the odds are overwhelming. Then, one of them moves too quickly, too precisely. They strike at Wanderer with a vicious blow that sends him flying back. His body crashes to the ground, and you’re the first to rush to him to take the killing blow.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer, where you’ve fallen, your body slipping into the darkness to protect him—Wanderer watches in disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest as you’re consumed by the Abyss. His voice is raw, lost. “No… no, this can’t be happening.”

He rushes toward you, but the wave of enemies, their weapons tearing at the air, blocks him. His hands are shaking as he tries to reach you, but the moment is slipping away, too fast, too cruel. His mind is screaming for him to do something, anything, but the power of the Abyss pulls you further from him.

As the last of the darkness claims you, you look back. Your eyes are filled with pain, but also love, and the last words you whisper are enough to break him.

"Live, Wanderer," you say. "Live for us…"

♡ Yandere! Wanderer where his knees buckle, his world imploding in on itself as he screams your name. There’s no escaping the agony that claws at his heart. His mind turns dark, fueled by rage and desperation. How dare they? How dare they take you from him?

He grits his teeth, his hands shaking as he rises to his feet. “I’ll kill them all,” he growls, his voice hoarse with rage. “You won’t be forgotten. I swear on everything… I will make them pay.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer stands, a man possessed, and the hunt for vengeance begins.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, where, just as he’s about to finally put his plans into motion, to ask you the question that’s been burning in his mind for months, everything shatters. The campfire crackles behind him as he watches you, your eyes catching the last light of the setting sun. He’s so sure, so certain. The ring hidden in his pocket, the words ready to spill from his lips—but then the ground shakes.

A flash of darkness tears through the sky, and Kazuha's instincts scream that something’s wrong. He turns to find you, standing beside him, your hand brushing against his as if fate has already decided. But the moment is shattered, ripped away by the sound of swords clashing, the sudden pressure of cold, calculated death.

A figure in the shadows, their weapon gleaming with deadly precision, lunges at Kazuha. A dozen more emerge, surrounding you both, their weapons crackling with malicious energy. Their presence feels wrong. Their faces are hidden behind cold metal masks, and their movements are unnatural, almost mechanical.

Everything goes wrong too fast, too quickly. You don't hesitate to protect him with your very life, shielding him from a fatal blow, from an injury that could've killed him.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, where the moment he sees you fall—your body consumed by the Abyss—he’s frozen, unable to move. He’s never felt fear like this before, the way it twists his insides, cold and sharp. You, the one who’s been his light in the darkness, the one who’s made him believe in something worth fighting for, are now gone.

His eyes are wide as he reaches for you, his heart breaking in his chest. “No… No, this can’t be real. You… you promised…”

But the Abyss has claimed you, and he’s left standing in the dark, the world crumbling around him. His hands tremble as he drops to his knees, his voice barely a whisper.

“I’ll find you,” he vows. “I swear I will. I will bring you back. I will make them pay for this.”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha stands, a storm brewing within him, his resolve hardening into something unbreakable. He will find you. And when he does, there will be no place that will ever be able to hide you from him again.

The hunt has begun.

────────────

The world feels like it’s crumbling around him. His heart pounds in his chest, and his hands tremble as he moves through the shadows, eyes searching desperately for any trace of you. He’s been hunting for days—no, weeks—losing himself in the search for the only person who’s ever truly mattered to him. The Abyss took you. They took his light, his love.

He’s driven, possessed by the desire to find you, to bring you back to him, to make everything right again. No obstacle is too great. No danger too perilous. Every step, every breath, every heartbeat is a reminder that he’ll stop at nothing to have you back.

And then, there he is. The Abyss Prince.

His blood runs cold, as he sees Aether standing there, his icy gaze locked onto the battlefield. And in the distance, he sees you—slumped, bloodied, barely conscious. His heart skips a beat.

“No,” He growls, his voice low and dangerous. His every instinct screams to run to you, to hold you, to protect you, but there’s a force that stops him. Something deeper, darker, something unnatural. He knows who’s responsible. It’s him. The Abyss Prince.

His hands curl into fists. His fury surges, but before he can make a move, a chilling, unbearable presence stops him. The world seems to slow.

Suddenly, a blade pierces his chest from behind.

He gasps, his breath catching in his throat as pain explodes through him. His hands shake as he tries to reach for the hilt, but his vision blurs. He looks over his shoulder and sees a familiar face—a face he never thought he’d see in this moment.

It’s you.

A mad gleam in your eyes, a cruel twist to your lips. Your posture, your expression, everything about you has changed. You’re no longer the playful, teasing soul he once knew. You’re cold, calculating, your emotions absent, as though the person he fell in love with is gone. All that remains is someone dangerous.

His heart shatters. His voice trembles as he gasps, “No… No, you—”

But before he can finish, the Abyss Prince steps forward, his cold gaze locking onto him. “You’re not allowed to kill him,” Aether says softly, the command in his voice undeniable. “Not yet.”

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, where his confusion swirls into a storm. He stumbles back, watching as you step away from him, the blade still lodged in his chest, before the Abyss Prince gestures for something to happen. You don’t just leave him wounded—you restrain him, binding him with chains, powerful and unyielding, until he can’t move, can’t even see. His head is tilted back, his vision completely restrained completely by the thick, suffocating darkness of the chains.

He struggles, his breaths shallow, his heart racing. He can feel the cold weight of his situation—the desperation, the helplessness that’s taken root inside him.

“You…” Tartaglia’s voice is raw with fury, with disbelief, and with pain. “What did you do to her? What have you done to my wife?”

But you say nothing. You only scoff, as though the situation is beneath you, as though the man you once knew no longer matters. There’s no playfulness, no warmth, just a chilling, vacant emptiness where your love once was.

Tartaglia’s mind races. This can’t be happening. His wife—his wife—has been manipulated. He knows it. This is all the Abyss’ doing. You’re not like this. They’ve broken you, twisted you, made you into something else. They’ve taken you from him.

His frustration boils over, but he’s helpless. “I’ll kill him,” he growls through clenched teeth. “I’ll kill the Abyss Prince for what he’s done to you.”

But even as the words leave his mouth, he can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong—everything is wrong. He can’t focus. His mind is too clouded, too confused. All he wants is you back. And he’ll stop at nothing to have you again. Even if it means destroying everything in his path.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer, where the madness is overwhelming. It’s all so much—the pain, the frustration, the confusion—as he watches you in front of him, cold and emotionless, blade in hand, ready to kill. His thoughts spiral in a frenzy. This can’t be real. He refuses to believe it. You… you’re supposed to be his. You’re supposed to be with him. Yet here you are, ready to snuff his life out.

The Abyss did this to you, he knows it. They’ve taken his love and turned her into something else—something cruel, something empty. Something unrecognizable.

His hand shakes as he tries to reach for you, but the chains binding him keep him stuck. His vision is obscured. Every move he tries to make is futile, a cruel reminder of how powerless he is in this moment.

“Why?” he chokes, his voice thick with emotion. “Why are you doing this? I know they’ve manipulated you. I know you’re not like this.”

But you don’t speak. You just look at him, your eyes cold, devoid of any warmth. He can’t reach you, can’t get through to you.

The Abyss Prince stands by, silent, his eyes as cold as ice. He’s watching this—he’s letting this happen. The rage within Wanderer swells to a point where he can hardly breathe.

“No,” he snarls, pulling against the chains. “I will kill you. You will answer for this.”

But you just smile at him, that same cold, emotionless smile. And all Wanderer can do is watch as his love slips further from his grasp, bound by the chains of the Abyss.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, where the world shatters around him as he watches you fall, as he watches you change into something that he no longer recognizes. The blade that once threatened his enemies is now raised to him, your eyes cold, indifferent to the pain he’s in. He’s unable to stop you, even as he feels the weight of the chains binding him, constricting him. You’re too far gone.

“Kazuha…” you murmur, but the words don’t feel right. They sound empty, distant. His heart cracks as he watches you, the woman he loves, standing before him, her emotions stripped away. You are a stranger now.

He gasps, trying to break free, trying to make sense of the situation. “What happened to you?” he whispers hoarsely. “Please, just… just come back. This isn’t you. This isn’t who I fell in love with.”

But you don’t answer. You only watch him, the gleam in your eyes nothing like the playful light he once knew. It’s cold, calculating, and it freezes him to his core.

And then Aether steps forward, his voice a soft command that stills Kazuha’s frantic mind. “You’re not allowed to kill him, not yet,” Aether reminds once more, his presence suffocating.

Kazuha’s breath catches, and his thoughts spin wildly. This can’t be real. You—you—you’ve been twisted. But Aether has the control here. The chains bind Kazuha tighter, his vision clouded by darkness, and all he can do is sit in silence, trapped, powerless.

“Why?” Kazuha chokes, frustration and fear flooding him. “Why are you doing this?”

Still, you don’t answer. You only step back, leaving him to face the Abyss alone, the chains around him tightening with every heartbeat.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia — The Fool's Heart

The battlefield is chaos, Tartaglia’s vision locked onto you. Aether stands at your side, the Abyss Prince exuding an otherworldly menace. Yet, Tartaglia doesn’t care. He’ll cut through anything and anyone to save you, his beloved, from the darkness that has ensnared you.

“Let her go!” Tartaglia snarls, voice cracking with desperation. His body screams from the injuries sustained in his relentless pursuit, but his heart burns hotter. His eyes flick to you—the source of his pain and salvation. “You don’t belong here! Come back to me!”

For a moment, his words seem to falter against your icy gaze. He knows you hear him, knows that somewhere in your heart, the person he loves still exists. But instead of the warmth he longs for, a cruel, mocking smile spreads across your lips.

“Come back?” you repeat, your tone dripping with false innocence. “Oh, Tartaglia, you poor, stupid fool.”

His breath hitches, confusion flashing across his face. Aether glances at you, silent but visibly amused, as though he’s watching a particularly entertaining performance. You turn to the Abyss Prince, patting his shoulder with an air of camaraderie that shatters Tartaglia’s world.

“He’s SO dumb,” you say with a cackle, tilting your head back to laugh. “Did he really think he was that special? That I cared? Oh, this is too good.”

Tartaglia stumbles back as if struck. “What… what are you saying?” he whispers, voice trembling.

“Everything, from the very beginning…” you start, pacing in front of him like a predator toying with its prey. “The teasing, the affection, the nights we spent together, the ‘sacrifices’ I made to protect you. All of it. A lie.”

He shakes his head violently, refusing to believe it. “No! You… you almost died for me! You saved me!”

You roll your eyes, brandishing the very blade you once used to fight by his side. “Please, Childe. That was just part of the plan. You were so much fun to manipulate, though. I’ll give you credit for that. Getting through your walls wasn’t easy.”

Tartaglia’s hands clench into trembling fists. His heart feels as if it’s being ripped apart. “You’re lying. This isn’t you. This is the Abyss! They’ve done something to you!”

“Oh, darling,” you croon, stepping closer to him. Your blade tilts his chin up, forcing him to look into your eyes. “I’ve always been like this. You were just too blind to see it.”

Aether’s voice cuts through the tension. “Enough.” The Prince’s command is calm, almost bored. “He’s served his purpose.”

You sigh, turning back to Aether. “Fine, fine. But can we please kill him now? This melodrama is getting tedious.”

Tartaglia’s vision blurs as the weight of betrayal crashes over him. He can’t reconcile the love he felt with the monster before him. Even as his body fails, his heart stubbornly clings to the hope that this is some cruel illusion.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer — Shackles of Betrayal

Wanderer’s indigo eyes are wide with disbelief, fixed on you as you stand beside Aether. The Abyss Prince’s presence is oppressive, but it’s your cold smirk that steals the breath from his lungs.

“Why are you doing this?” Wanderer’s voice cracks, his usual sharp wit replaced by a trembling vulnerability. “I trusted you. I… loved you.”

You tilt your head, feigning surprise. “Loved me? That’s sweet. But did you really think someone like me could love someone like you?”

The words hit him like a blow, but you’re not finished. You twirl a dagger in your hand, your movements lazy and confident. “Let me guess. You thought we were kindred spirits, two broken souls finding solace in each other? How… adorable.”

Wanderer’s rage flares, his chains rattling as he strains against them. “You liar! I’ll kill him! I’ll kill the Abyss Prince and get you back, no matter what it takes!”

Aether chuckles softly, and you laugh along with him, the sound grating against Wanderer’s raw nerves. “Kill him?” you echo. “Oh, darling, you couldn’t even touch him. And you think I want to be ‘saved’ by you? Don’t make me laugh.”

Wanderer freezes, the weight of your words sinking in. He studies your face, searching for any trace of the person he thought he knew, but all he finds is a stranger wearing your skin.

“Why?” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “Why would you do this?”

You shrug, tossing the dagger into the air and catching it effortlessly. “Because it’s fun. And because Aether needed a little help with a certain someone.” Your gaze sharpens, and for a moment, Wanderer sees the madness in your eyes. “You were just a pawn, dear. A very entertaining pawn, but a pawn nonetheless.”

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha — The Storm’s Deceit

Kazuha kneels, his hands bound by unyielding chains, his soft crimson eyes filled with betrayal as he looks up at you. The gentle breeze that usually follows him is eerily still, as though the world itself mourns his heartbreak.

“I don’t understand,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “How could you… why would you do this?”

You sigh, as if exasperated by his naivety. “Oh, Kazuha. Always so poetic, so trusting. It’s almost endearing how much faith you put in people. Almost.”

He flinches at the derision in your tone. “You saved me. You risked your life for me. Was all of that a lie?”

You kneel before him, cupping his face with a mocking tenderness. “Not all of it,” you admit. “Some of it was necessary. After all, how else was I supposed to gain your trust?”

Kazuha’s breath hitches, his heart shattering into pieces he can hardly comprehend. “You used me,” he says, more to himself than to you. “You’ve been using me this whole time.”

“Bingo!” you chirp, pulling back and spinning on your heel. “Took you long enough to figure it out. Honestly, I was starting to think you’d never catch on.”

Aether steps forward, his presence a cold shadow that looms over Kazuha. “Are we done here?” he asks, his tone bored.

You glance at him with a pout. “Almost. Just let me have this moment. Watching him break is the best part.”

Kazuha’s head hangs low, his spirit crushed beneath the weight of your betrayal. Yet, even as despair overtakes him, a small ember of hope remains. He vows, silently and fiercely, to free you from the Abyss’ clutches—no matter what it takes.

You, however, have other plans. As you turn away, a cruel smile graces your lips. The game has only just begun, and you’re already thinking of your next move.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia — The Fool's Heart

The battlefield reeks of blood and fire, the aftermath of Tartaglia’s relentless pursuit of you. His breaths come ragged, his body battered, yet his gaze remains locked on you. Aether stands beside you, radiating the chilling authority of the Abyss Prince.

“You think this is over?” Tartaglia spits, his voice raw with determination. “I’ll tear apart this entire Abyss if I have to—just to bring you back.”

You laugh—a sound that is anything but warm. It’s a sharp, maniacal cackle, filled with scornful glee. “Back? To what, exactly? Your pathetic little life of lies and delusions?”

He flinches, but you’re already closing the distance between you. Your hand shoots out, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him off the ground with unnatural strength. His vision swims, yet he refuses to look away from you.

“You’re nothing without me,” you hiss, your grip tightening as his struggles grow weaker. “Do you honestly believe your love could save anyone, Childe? That I needed saving? How quaint.”

He gurgles something incoherent, but you only tighten your hold, leaning in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. “The only thing you’re good for is bleeding. Look at you, all this power, all this loyalty, and for what? For me to spit in your face?”

You release him suddenly, letting him collapse in a heap at your feet. He clutches at his throat, gasping for air, but you’re not done. Your boot presses against his chest, pinning him down.

“Don’t look so shocked,” you sneer, tilting your head like a predator savoring the kill. “Did you think I was some damsel in need of rescuing? No, darling. I’m the monster your nightmares warned you about.”

Tartaglia’s eyes blaze with despair and determination as he chokes out, “I’ll… I’ll kill him… take you back…”

Your laughter erupts again, wild and unhinged. “Kill him? Oh, sweetheart, you can’t even stand. You’re nothing but a pitiful fool—a fool who thought love could conquer someone like me.”

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer — Shackles of Betrayal

Wanderer thrashes against the chains binding him, his indigo eyes burning with fury and disbelief. His usual sharp tongue fails him as he stares at you, standing beside Aether, a wicked grin plastered across your face.

“You’re insane,” Wanderer growls, venom dripping from every word. “Let me go, and I’ll make you regret this.”

You clap your hands mockingly, the sound echoing in the cavernous Abyss chamber. “Regret? Oh, sweetheart, regret is for people who make mistakes. I’m having too much fun watching you squirm.”

He lunges against the chains, his strength formidable but useless against the Abyssal restraints. “You lied to me!” he snarls. “Everything—you lied about everything!”

“Of course I did,” you say with a sing-song lilt, stepping closer. Your hands trail lazily over his face, your nails scraping just enough to hurt. “Did you really think someone like me could ever care about someone like you? A discarded puppet, a useless little doll?”

His expression twists with rage, but the vulnerability behind it is unmistakable. “You’re wrong,” he bites out. “You cared. I saw it. I felt it.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” you coo mockingly, before your voice drops, sharp as a blade. “Feel this.”

Your knee slams into his gut, forcing a pained gasp from his lips. You grab his hair, yanking his head back so he’s forced to look at you. “I never cared about you. You were just a stepping stone, a toy for me to break when I got bored. And guess what? I’m bored now.”

Aether chuckles behind you, his voice cold and amused. “You’re cruel,” he observes.

You flash him a wicked grin. “Why, thank you, my prince. I do aim to please.”

Wanderer’s voice is hoarse, filled with hatred and anguish. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill you. You’ll regret this.”

Your laughter is pure insanity, ringing out like a bell of doom. “Try, little puppet. Try and fail, again and again. It’s the only thing you’re good for.”

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha — The Storm’s Deceit

Kazuha kneels in chains, his crimson eyes filled with sorrow as he gazes up at you. The stillness of the air is suffocating, the calm before a storm that will never come.

“You…” he begins, his voice a broken whisper. “You were my compass. My home. How could you betray me like this?”

You crouch in front of him, your eyes alight with malevolent joy. “Betray you?” you echo, your tone mockingly sweet. “Oh, Kazuha, don’t flatter yourself. You were never that important to me.”

His breath hitches, but you don’t stop. You lean in, your lips brushing his ear as you murmur, “You were just a convenient tool, a way to pass the time. A pretty little plaything for me to use and discard.”

Kazuha flinches as if struck, his spirit cracking under the weight of your words. “You don’t mean that,” he says, but the tremor in his voice betrays his doubt.

You laugh, the sound a haunting melody of madness. “Oh, but I do. Every word. And do you know the best part? Watching you break, piece by piece.”

Your hand grips his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You thought you could save me, didn’t you? That your love could heal whatever darkness you saw in me. How utterly pathetic.”

He trembles under your touch, his chains rattling as his hands ball into fists. “I’ll find a way,” he vows, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll free you from this darkness.”

You burst into laughter, throwing your head back in pure delight. “Free me? Oh, Kazuha, I am the darkness. There’s nothing to free me from.”

Aether steps forward, his presence a cold shadow beside you. “He’s done,” the Abyss Prince says. “Let him wallow in his failure.”

You stand, casting one last mocking glance at Kazuha. “Goodbye, my little storm. Try not to drown in your tears.”

As you walk away, Kazuha’s head hangs low, his heart shattered—but the fire of his resolve burns on.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia — The Fool's Heart

The kiss you share with Aether is cruelly deliberate, a deep, searing display of mockery meant for the man crumpled at your feet. Tartaglia’s battered body trembles, his fists digging into the scorched ground as he watches, his chest heaving with a suffocating cocktail of pain and rage.

“Don’t look away,” you taunt, your lips still wet with the evidence of your betrayal. “This is the truth, Childe. This is all you ever were to me—something to laugh at.”

Aether scoffs, shoving you away, irritation flashing in his Abyssal gaze. But you only laugh, twirling back to face Tartaglia, your grin stretching wider as your gaze locks with his. Gone is the warmth he clung to, the person he thought he loved. In its place is a madness so stark, so twisted, it shatters whatever hope remained in his heart.

The realization crashes into him like a tidal wave—you never cared for him. Not once. Not even in the smallest, fleeting moment. His breath hitches, a dry, humorless laugh escaping his lips.

“I see it now,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse but laced with a dangerous calm. “You don’t deserve kindness. And I’ve been far too kind to you.”

Your grin falters, if only for a second, as he rises to his knees, his gaze blazing with something new—something unhinged.

“It’s too late to turn back,” he says, his tone eerily even. “I don’t need your love, or your lies, anymore. You’ll be mine, no matter what I have to destroy to make it happen.”

As Abyss subordinates drag him away, his eyes never leave yours, his smirk dark and foreboding. “Run, hide, laugh while you can. I’ll be coming for you. And when I do, you’ll regret every breath you ever stole from me.”

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer — Shackles of Betrayal

Your lips crash against Aether’s, an act of derision that sends a violent shudder through Wanderer’s restrained form. His chains rattle as his whole body tenses, the burning in his eyes consuming what little humanity he’d clung to.

“You’re a fool,” you whisper against Aether’s lips before pulling away, your laughter slicing through the silence. The Abyss Prince wipes his mouth with a look of disdain, but your amusement only grows. You whirl around to face Wanderer, your grin a feral slash across your face.

“You never saw it, did you?” you sneer, your voice dripping with venom. “All that time, all those stolen moments—and you never noticed the madness in my eyes. You’re not a victim, Wanderer. You’re just another broken thing for me to play with.”

For a moment, he’s silent. Then, the corners of his lips twitch upward, forming a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Is that so?” he murmurs, his tone soft yet laced with something chilling. “You think this is over, don’t you?”

You tilt your head, intrigued by the shift in his demeanor.

“Go ahead,” he continues, his voice gaining strength. “Laugh, mock me, pretend you’ve won. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

The Abyss soldiers begin to drag him away, but his eyes stay fixed on yours, unyielding and terrifying.

“You’ve taken everything from me,” he says, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “So now, I’ll do the same to you. Love? Hate? It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll strip you bare, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but me.”

And as he’s pulled into the shadows, his final words echo like a curse: “You’ll never escape me, not even in death.”

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha — The Storm’s Deceit

Your kiss with Aether is theatrical, exaggerated, designed to carve deeper into Kazuha’s shattered heart. The Abyss Prince shoves you away, muttering something under his breath, but you laugh, spinning to meet Kazuha’s gaze.

“Did you think you were special?” you ask, your voice lilting with mockery. “That your poetry and promises could bind me to you? Oh, Kazuha, you were always chasing a storm you could never tame.”

Kazuha doesn’t respond, his crimson eyes fixed on yours with a quiet intensity. But the light in them has changed, twisted into something unrecognizable.

“You’ve lost,” you declare, turning away, but his voice stops you cold.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, his tone so calm it sends a chill down your spine.

You glance back, and the sight of him—the once-gentle warrior now smirking with a darkness that rivals your own—sends your pulse skittering.

“You think you’ve won,” he continues, his voice soft but deadly. “But this isn’t the end. It’s only the beginning.”

The Abyss guards move to haul him away, yet he doesn’t resist. His gaze remains locked on you, his smile growing as he speaks his final words.

“I’ll break you,” he says, his voice like a whispered promise carried on the wind. “Not with anger, not with hatred—but with love twisted into something you can’t escape. And when you’re mine, when you’re begging for the freedom you so carelessly destroyed, I’ll remind you of this moment. I’ll remind you who truly holds the chains.”

And as the shadows swallow him, his presence lingers, a storm on the horizon waiting to strike.

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. 🔞Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

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atlabeth · 2 days ago

Text

in over my head

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: between all the arguments, you and spencer begin to understand each other a little bit more.

a/n: wauw.... out of nowhere i wrote 4k words and finished this chapter in one night... god bless spencer reid. i hope you all enjoy. r's cold heart is finally starting to defrost. title from the fray song

wc: 5k

warning(s): arguing, case discussions (stalking, murder, etc), talk of parental neglect, hurt w/o comfort then hurt/comfort. r lowkey freaking out this whole fic. the usual good time

You lean against the wall, trying to keep your breathing as quiet as possible.

You don’t really want Spencer to know you were eavesdropping on him the whole time. You don’t really want him to see the look on your face because he defended you to your dad.

He— he should expect it, shouldn’t he? He’s sitting out in the living room on the phone, and you’re you. It’s only natural you’d listen in on him.

Spencer defended you to your dad— mouthed off to him in very un-Spencer-like fashion.

Why?

From what you’d gathered, he practically worshipped the guy. Even if he didn’t, your dad was still his superior. It didn’t really seem like any kind of good idea to talk back to him.

But he did.

For you.

You thought Spencer merely tolerated you because he had to. You wouldn’t blame him, the way you treated him. So why would he do something like that for you?

You’re jarred out of your thoughts when you hear Spencer say your name. You blink back into yourself to see him standing in front of you, and you feel your face burn.

So much for not being obvious.

“I’m assuming you heard everything?” he asks.

You nod. You have the decency to not insult his intelligence, at least.

“That means we can go over everything,” Spencer says, already starting to walk away. “Come on.”

You frown. You expected him to be mad at you for eavesdropping, or use what he did for you as leverage for something, or— or do anything but act normal.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts once again as you follow him back to the living room. Spencer sits back down on the couch and you tentatively sit across from him.

“I don’t want what I said to scare you,” he says. “Hernandez may be our lead right now, but I doubt it’ll stay that way. Elle and Morgan are going to check him out, and I’ll get another call once they do.”

You blink. Of course he’d expect you to be focused on that part—your stalker, the threat against your life, the whole reason you’re in here. Not Spencer sticking up for you.

“Right,” you say. “Do you think it’s him?”

“Honestly? No.” Spencer sighs and shakes his head. “You heard what I said. He doesn’t fit the profile—he’s a man who made the worst choices of his life when he lost everything. If he’s been released, he might have actually changed. We’re only on him because he’s all we’ve got.”

“…Good,” you say. “Strangling wouldn’t be my top way to go.”

“You need to stop talking like that,” he says.

“I need to stop doing a lot of things,” you respond. “Any idea how much longer we’ll be in here?”

Spencer shakes his head. “We’re here until this case is solved or our cover is blown.”

You huff. “Like if this guy finds us again?”

He nods. “But that shouldn’t happen. Elle, Gideon, Hotch, and Strauss are the only ones who know about this place, and they’re obviously sworn to silence.”

“Strauss?”

“Erin Strauss,” he says. “The BAU’s section chief.”

“Ah.” You realize you’re still holding your mug, now empty, and you lean forward to set it on the table. “What happens if we’re made?”

“You’ve got to stop thinking about the worst case scenarios,” Spencer says. “Pessimism doesn’t just make anxiety, depression, and paranoia worse—it can raise your blood pressure, increase your chance of cardiovascular problems, and mess with your immune system. It’s literally bad for your health.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” you ask. “I’ve got a stalker and we didn’t realize until he’d been watching me for a month. Your team has only got one lead and you don’t even think it’s the right one. That sounds pretty negative to me.”

“We’re still at the beginning of this case,” Spencer says. “It usually takes a few bodies for us to figure out what’s really going on and find the unsub in our regular cases.”

You stare at him, and he seems to realize what he’s actually said.

“Of course, there won’t be any bodies in this case!” he rushes. “You— you’re going to be perfectly fine!”

“You’re really not great at reassurance,” you say wryly as you pick up your cup and stand up, “are you?”

“Homicides only occur in two percent of stalking cases!” Spencer continues, his voice rising as you go into the kitchen. “A- and you might not even be the primary target! If anything, he might be going after your dad!”

By now you’ve finished filling your mug again. You stop at the edge of the hallway when he finishes, leveling a tired look at him.

“Thanks, Spence. That really helps.”

You walk back to your room, and once again, you only close the door halfway to humor his concerns.

If you’d lingered a little longer, you would have been able to see his frown.

“Spence?” he murmurs in confusion.

The rest of the day goes by smoother than you thought it would, largely because Spencer keeps his distance and you don’t fight it.

You busy yourself with more cleaning—you never finished it after your last outburst—and when you finish that, you read. You find Pride and Prejudice in the box of books the BAU provided, and it’s a good distraction. You’d much rather worry about the problems of the Bennets rather than your own.

You end up cooking first, and you offer Spencer some of your pasta when you finish. He initially looks shocked at the olive branch, but you figure you owe him something for all he’s put up with.

You don’t tell him that, of course. You just tell him he has five seconds to make a decision before you finish the rest, and he snaps out of it pretty quickly.

(“I promise I’m capable of cooking,” he says as he spoons a helping into his bowl. “I— I just don’t have much time for it. We’re always out on cases so we go to a lot of restaurants, and I get take-out at home because I get home at ungodly hours.”

“Just shut up and eat your food,” you say. “I don’t need to hear your opening statement.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t call this an opening statement. It’s more of—”

“Oh my god.” You pick up your bowl and walk off. “Goodbye.”

“I think it’s more of a witness testimony!” he calls out.)

A similar thing happens with dinner, where you pull out the old reliable of chicken and rice. Dressed up a bit with some of the vegetables that are somehow already on the verge of going bad, but still the same thing you’ve eaten a million times throughout your life. You don’t really feel like cooking, but you also don’t feel like having to hear Spencer set the smoke alarm again, so you settle for this.

(“You know,” Spencer says as he cuts into a chicken thigh, “I should really be trying everything first. Just in case there’s poison or something.”

You stifle your incredulous laugh. “How would there be poison in anything? You all bought and brought this stuff in.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. But you can never be too careful.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say. “I— I think that is the most ridiculous thing you’ve said since I’ve met you.”

“I hope you’re not challenging me,” Spencer says. “Because I can beat it very easily.”)

Between that, he calls out on occasion to make sure you’re still alive. You think it’s stupid, but it seems to ease his mind, so you play along.

He gets a call from your dad late at night, which he then goes on to relay to you—Agents Greenaway and Morgan paid a visit to Adam Hernandez, and they weren’t able to find anything suspicious. Penelope Garcia is going to comb through everything she can find on what he’s done since his release before they officially abandon the lead, but Hernandez is on parole and hasn’t violated it once—he seems to be clean.

You don’t know whether you’re thankful for that or not. On one hand, you want this to be over. Getting lucky on the first suspect would be great. On the other hand, having a face to all of this scares you more than not knowing. You still have the chance to deny that all of this is real, really real—when they find their guy, you can’t do that anymore. There’s actually someone out there that wants to hurt you.

The thought crossed your mind more often than not.

Other than that, he doesn’t really bother you. Another thing where you don’t really know if you’re thankful or not.

It’s close to midnight, and though you haven’t been able to sleep, you’re ready to accept this as another, thankfully non eventful day.

But then there’s a huge flash of lightning, visible even through your closed blinds, followed closely by a deafening crack of thunder, and your whole body freezes up. Your hands stop on the page you were on, and a chill runs all the way through you despite the layers of covers you’re under.

Rain has been pittering against the house for half the night, and you can deal with rain. You can’t deal with thunderstorms.

You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. The absolute last thing you need to do is work yourself into a panic attack and get Spencer involved. You don’t think you could take the embarrassment.

You attempt to go back to your book. You’d just arrived at Mr. Collins’ unsuccessful marriage proposal, but you can hardly focus. It doesn’t help when lightning illuminates your room once again, a clap of thunder sounding even quicker after, and your lamp flickers for a moment. This is actually the last thing you need—for the power to go out.

A knock on your door suddenly sounds, and you nearly jump out of your skin. You’re already on edge and the storm’s just barely started. You hear Spencer call your name and ask if you’re awake, and you clear your throat before you respond.

“What do you want?” You try to keep your voice as level as possible, but it wavers ever so slightly.

“Can I come in?”

You don’t want him to see you like this. “Is there something wrong?”

“It’s the storm,” he says, and he doesn’t wait for you to respond. “I’m coming in.”

You have all of two seconds to make sure you don’t look as pathetic as you feel before Spencer walks in.

He looks like he just got out of bed. He’s wearing a Caltech crewneck and sweatpants, and his glasses are about to fall off his face. His disheveled appearance is in stark contrast to his usual image, with dress pants and button-ups and sweater vests galore. One of his hands clenches around the doorframe, and he uses the other to haphazardly push his glasses up as he sets his eyes on you.

“You need to come back into the living room,” Spencer says.

“And good evening to you too.” You try not to look at him. You’ve learned that’s the best policy when it comes to him and those stupid glasses. “Why?”

“Because there’s a storm going on, and the power’s already flickered,” he says. “I don’t want to lose track of you if it does go out.”

“If the power goes out, we’re in the open out there,” you say. “If you’re so worried about it, you should stay in here.”

You expect a fight, but he just sighs and sits down in the chair across from your bed. “Fine.”

You frown. “That was easy.”

“I don’t feel like fighting with you over every little thing,” he says simply. “You might enjoy it, but I don’t. So I’m trying to take the path of least resistance.”

“That’s no fun,” you say.

“Well, you’re not very fun to be around,” Spencer says. He glances at you for a split second before his gaze goes back to the wall. “So.”

“Well, neither are you!” You don’t mean for your retort to come out so defensively, and you cringe as he looks back at you. It’s impossible to be around profilers without them knowing your every intent. You’d hate to know all the thoughts he’s had about you. “I might turn everything into a fight, but you turn everything into a drag.”

“You’re doing it again,” he says. You expect him to go on, but he leaves it that. You find your brows furrowing deeper.

“And?”

“Maybe if you recognize your patterns, you’ll stop,” he says. “Sometimes people don’t realize they're doing something until it’s pointed out to them.”

You huff. “How many times do I have to tell you not to psychoanalyze me?”

“I don’t choose to do it,” Spencer says. You don’t miss the slight bite behind his words, and it almost makes you smile. As much as he doesn’t want to give you a fight, he can’t really help himself. You tend to bring out the worst in people. “It just happens in my brain automatically.”

“Try to hold back,” you say. “It—”

Your words die in your throat with another crash of thunder, almost simultaneous with the lightning. It shakes the whole house, and you can’t help the full body flinch that wracks you, almost freezing completely. The power flickers again, and then it goes out altogether. You don’t even hold back your groan of annoyance.

“Of course,” you grit out. “Of fucking course.”

“Are you okay?” You look at him despite yourself, and even in the dark you can see the concern in his eyes. It makes your hands clench into fists beneath the sheets.

“Fine,” you mutter. “It doesn’t matter.”

Spencer frowns. “Of course it does.”

You scoff. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Why would it not matter?” he asks incredulously. “You— you’re clearly distressed, and holding it back isn’t helping anyone.”

“Maybe I just like silence.”

“Well, you clearly don’t like storms.”

“How’d you figure that one, genius?” you mutter. You wrap your arms around yourself and pull your knees up to your chest, trying to lessen the sudden chill you feel.

“...Normally, I would give you a real answer,” Spencer says. “But based on the lecture you just gave me—”

“You figured right,” you snap. It only takes a second—and those stupid, soft eyes of his to dart away again—for you to feel… bad.

He sighs and shakes his head as he stands up. “I’m going to get a candle. Stay put.”

You tense as he walks out. Your whole body does, actually. You don’t know what it is about him or those stupid eyes that always manage to skirt out sympathy from you.

You should feel gratified. At the start of this, you wanted to push Spencer to his limits—he’s too nice for his own good, and you wanted him to not only give you a more concrete reason to hate him, but get a reason to hate you back. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with this one-sided rivalry with the apparent saint of the BAU.

But you don’t. You feel bad, and you hate it. You hate it more than any reasonable person should, but then again—you’ve never been reasonable.

Spencer comes back in sooner rather than later, two lit candles in his hands. You can see the on-sale sticker plastered on the side of both, and you suppress a laugh. It’s something so small but so typical.

“One’s vanilla, and one is,” he squints as he shifts it in his hand to read, “beach escape. What does a beach escape even smell like?” He shakes his head, then looks at you. “Which one do you—”

“I’m sorry,” you interrupt. You blurt it out before you can even stop yourself.

This time, it’s Spencer’s turn to frown. His face is illuminated from beneath by the candlelight and it gives him an almost haunting beauty, highlighted with yellow and white along his jawline and cheekbones. The flames are mirrored in the lenses of his glasses. “For what?”

“For snapping.” You almost snap at him again out of instinct, and you let out a long, loose sigh in an effort to try and chill out for once. “Sorry. Again.”

“Oh.” He stands there for a moment holding the two candles, and it could be a laughable sight were you not near consumed with guilt. “Uh— it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Fine,” he says, “it’s not. Which candle do you want?”

“Which one do you want?”

“This isn’t where you have to start the ‘being nice to me’ thing,” Spencer says. “They’re kind of starting to burn my hands.”

“Beach escape,” you say. He nods and sets it on your bedside table, then sits back down in his chair after placing the vanilla one in the window sill.

“You… seem a little pent up,” Spencer says after letting the silence dwell for a beat. His shoulders have relaxed some, not hunched up almost to his ears. Small victories, at least.

“I don’t talk about my emotions much,” you respond in equal fashion. “It’s not really my thing.”

He shrugs. “Why not start now?”

You laugh. “Why would I ever start now?”

“You said it yourself,” he says. “I have a psychology degree. I’m a good listener.”

“You interrupt me all the time to say stuff.”

“You interrupt me all the time too, so I guess we’re even.” Spencer shifts in his chair. “Besides, I can listen when it’s important. And this is.”

You stare at him. He stares back.

He has beautiful eyes even in the dark, and you hate that you can’t deny it. Deep brown like the oaks surrounding this place, that shine like pools of honey in the firelight, that always seem to soften just so when he looks at you.

You break first. You have to look away. You always have to look away.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you manage. “I was a latchkey kid. Storms happened a lot when I was home alone and they scared me. I guess they still do. Happy?”

“Believe it or not, your pain doesn’t make me happy,” Spencer says.

“I didn’t think it did,” you say, trying your best to snap.

He nods. “So we’re in agreement?”

“I—” you pause, a slight frown creasing your brows. “I guess.”

Spencer nods again, and he leans forward a bit. “Wasn’t that a lot better than fighting with me, getting upset, and isolating yourself?”

You scowl. “Don’t you dare therapize me.”

“It’s hard not to,” Spencer says. “Especially when you seem determined to make our conversations one-sided.”

You scoff. “I do not.”

“You act like talking to me is a physical pain.” He crosses his arms. “You locked yourself in the bathroom last night to avoid talking to me.”

“I locked myself in the bathroom so I wouldn’t lose my mind in front of you,” you say. “Just because I know everything about you doesn’t mean I want you to know everything about me.”

Spencer scoffs. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“My dad talks about you more than you think,” you say. “About your whole team—but especially you.”

“Where am I from?” he asks.

“Vegas,” you say. “He mentions it every time you beat him at cards.”

“That— that doesn’t really matter,” he says. “I know you’re from Fairfax.”

“The worst place in the world,” you say emphatically. You can’t believe you’ve been stuck in NoVa your whole life. “Doesn’t count, though. You’re an FBI agent—you’re supposed to know things like this.”

“So it counts when you know it, but it doesn’t count when I do?” Spencer asks.

You nod. “I’ve heard about Penelope Garcia. I’m more surprised you don’t know everything about me by now.”

“Me too,” he says. “Garcia can find anything. Gideon really did a good j—”

He stops in the middle of his sentence, his eyes widening slightly as he clamps his mouth shut.

“What?” You lean forward, looking him in the eye. “He did a good job doing what?”

“I don’t want to start another argument,” he says.

“Oh, poor you.” You don’t think you could sound more sarcastic if you tried. “You don’t want to hear me talk about my absent father that didn’t have time for me because he was too busy with you.” You glance away. “You don’t know what it feels like.”

“There’s something you don’t know about me then,” Spencer says. “Because I do.”

“Unless your dad’s ignored you all his life in favor of his job and the stray genius he found there, you really don’t.”

“My dad left when I was a kid because he couldn’t deal with my mom’s schizophrenia,” Spencer retorts. His words get you to look right back at him—they’re not overly sharp or exceedingly soft, just matter-of-fact. “I haven’t seen him since. So you’re right—I don’t know exactly what it’s like, but I know a hell of a lot more than you think.”

Regret hits you immediately, sour and spiny as it settles in your chest. You’ve been an asshole to him this whole time, and all along he’s held this inside of him? All along, you’ve been accusing him of stealing your life from you when he’s lost more than you have.

For a moment, you can only stare at him, at a loss for words. He meets your eyes in equal measure. You might know a lot about Spencer Reid, but you’re quickly realizing you don’t know Spencer Reid.

“Guess we’re a lot more similar than you thought,” he says in your silence.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you murmur, finally managing to muster up words. “That’s awful. You didn’t deserve that.”

“No one does,” he shrugs. This time, he’s the one to look away. “But it is what it is.”

“How can you just say that?” you ask. You lean forward, a frown creasing your brows. “How are you not just— just angry all the time? That your dad doesn’t give a fuck about you or your mom?”

“For a while, I was.” He chuckles, but there’s no heart in it. “I was angry at everyone. My dad, my mom, the adults around me— I hated myself most of all. It’s part of the reason I was so good in school. I didn’t want to think about it, I didn’t want to deal with it, so I studied as hard as I could, read as much as humanly possible.” He smiles thinly at nothing in particular. “Turns out I’m very good at avoiding things when I want to.”

You shake your head with a scoff. “You’re a better person than I am. I would have hunted him down by now and given him a piece of my mind.”

“It’s not worth it.” Spencer looks back at you. “He decided he didn’t want to be a part of my life. I’m not going to reward him by letting him ruin it when he’s not even here.”

Is that what you’re doing? Letting your dad ruin your life by letting him occupy every part of it even when he’s not there? He’s influenced every part of your life, every part of you, and he hasn’t been here for half of it. Sometimes you’re surprised he didn’t miss your birth.

Another flash of lightning, another crack of thunder. You tense every muscle in your body to stop yourself from flinching as hard in front of Spencer. You think he notices anyway.

“I’ve been angry at my dad since I was a kid,” you say once you’ve recovered. “He missed my dance recitals and my gymnastics meets and my soccer games, but he signed the checks for all of the payments. He told me to take honors and AP classes and missed the ceremonies for the awards. He was never there for anything that mattered, but—” you laugh again, and you blink back the tears— “but he waited until I was eighteen to get a divorce so I wouldn’t have to deal with a custody battle.”

You bite down hard on your lip to force them back even harder as you look at Spencer. “Isn’t that fucked up? Neither of them have been there for us, but they’ve still shaped every part of us with their absence. We can’t escape it even when they’re not here, because them not being here is what caused it.”

“I refuse to give him that much power,” Spencer says. “My dad left. He chose to leave. He doesn’t want anything to do with me, so I don’t want anything to do with him. I mean, I’m an FBI agent. I work with some of the best profilers in the world. I could find him if I wanted to, but I’m not going to waste my time chasing some pipe dream of a father that doesn’t exist.”

“Your situation is different, though.” Both his eyes and tone soften, and something inside you stirs. “The only break I know Gideon’s taken was that six month medical leave that was practically forced on him. I think it would take an actual, life-threatening injury to get him to take another one. It’s a lot different having someone around and just… being neglected.”

“I’ve just always felt like such an asshole for it,” you mutter. “You all save lives every day. You’ve taken down a thousand sick criminals.” You shake your head with another mirthless laugh. “My dad saves women like me every day, gives them the chance to see their fathers again, and I’m mad at him because— because he won’t meet me for brunch? Because he missed my school band concerts?”

“It’s not that simple,” Spencer says. “It’s never that simple. You don’t need to feel bad for hating him, but you also don’t need to feel bad for loving him, too.”

You scoff. “There you go again with the psychology degree.”

“It’s the truth,” he says. “Just because you feel rightfully angry doesn’t mean you don’t still love him. It’s part of the reason why you’re so conflicted about him.” He gave you a wry smile. “It makes everything a lot more complicated, doesn’t it?”

You shift in your bed. “Far cry from everything you told me before all this started.”

“We see completely different sides of Gideon,” Spencer says. “I’m just… ashamed that it took me so long to believe you about all of it.”

You huff a laugh. “I’m the one that should be ashamed. I thought you had this— this perfect life, with my dad loving you on top of it. That’s why I hated you so much.”

He perks up. “Hated? As in, past tense? As in, you don’t hate me anymore?”

You try to bite back your smile. You barely succeed. “Call it a truce.”

Spencer grins and nudges his glasses back into place once again. “This might be my favorite truce since 1914.”

“Christmas Truce,” you nod. “Good one.”

“You know it?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “I’m a teacher.”

Spencer blinks. “You— you are?”

“Why is that such a surprise?” you ask.

“You’re so…”

“Mean to you?” You chuckle. “Trust me, I’m not like this with my kids. My job is one of the parts of my life that I’m actually happy with.”

“...Huh.” Spencer smiles at you, and you find yourself smiling back, subconsciously. “You should tell me about it sometime.”

“Sure,” you nod. “Maybe you can tell me about everything you do sometime.”

“You’re sure you won’t get bored?” he asks. “You might not realize, but I have a tendency to rant.”

You laugh. “Part of our truce.”

This time, he nods. “Cool. That— that’s cool.”

You roll your eyes as you look away, but your smile betrays you once again. Your gaze snaps over to the lamp as it flickers back on, and you realize you haven’t heard any thunder in a while.

“Looks like the storm’s passed.” Spencer separates two of the window blinds with his fingers and peers through. You’ve never really focused on his hands like you do now—with the way you feel your face burn, it’s probably a good thing. You look away as soon as possible. “Just rain, now.”

“Good,” you say, and you let out a yawn. “All our talking tired me out.”

“Good,” he echoes as he picks his candle up from the window pane. “You should get eight hours of sleep a night, and I know for a fact you don’t.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, professor.”

“You’re the teacher here,” he says. “I should be saying that to you.”

“And yet you’re so much more annoying than I could ever be,” you muse.

“Does our truce include this?”

“Naturally.”

Spencer chuckles and shakes his head. He starts walking to the doorway, but you speak up before he can leave.

“Night, Spencer.” You pause as you bite the inside of your lip, then continue before you can stop yourself. “I really enjoyed talking with you.”

He hesitates for a moment, his hand lingering on the doorframe. Then he bids you goodnight in the same fashion, actually saying your name. “I did too.”

It makes your heart skip a beat.

Spencer closes the door behind him, and you find yourself staring at the wood long after he’s gone. You jolt when you finally come back into yourself, and you shake your head to get out of the haze.

You glance at the clock on your bedside table, and blink when you realize it’s almost 1:30. You really do need to get to bed.

The smoke makes you cough as you blow your candle out, and you wave a hand around to dispel it before you turn the lamp off. You lay down and pull the sheets up around you. You end up having to switch positions at least five times before you start to get comfortable.

But the strangest thing is plaguing you despite your restlessness. You were freezing before the storm started, even when the electricity was working, but now there’s a strange warmth attempting to permeate within you. It almost helps you relax.

The room feels a lot smaller without him in it.

You exhale, long, slow, and deep as you close your eyes. The scent of vanilla lingers in the air.

You hope you don’t dream tonight.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #gideon!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #x reader #sadie writes #anyone that knows anything about george mason knows how upsetting it is that she went there instead of columbia LMAO #literally the most soul sucking commuter school

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twice-inamillion · 1 year ago

Text

The Company

Peeping Tom

Smut and Story Building (Blackmail, Deep Penetration, Defloration, Creampie, Rough Sex, First Time, Choking, Light BDSM, objectification)

Chapter 6

3,585 Words

(You encounter a peeping Tom as you have fun with one of your assistants. She tries to use her newfound information against you, but instead, you end up using her. By the end, you found yourself a new toy to play with.)

You return to your office with IU after a business meeting outside the company. The two of you talk about what just occurred during the last few days and how busy it’s going to get moving forward.

“How does it feel receiving your first private jet, sir?”

“I’m excited; I remember riding on my father’s jet when I was younger and always wanted one of my own. Now I just need to get it customized, and I’ll be able to use it.”

“Before that, we need to hire a flight attendant.”

“That’s true.”

“What about asking your father for one of his?”

“No, I'd rather get someone that has nothing to do with my father. I don’t want them to tell him anything about my business.”

“I’ll try to put a post online to hire an assistant.”

“Sounds good.”

“Any requirements?”

“Someone not too old, eye candy. You know my tastes.”

“Okay, I’ll try my best.”

“Also, any news on Big Hit and JYP?”

“I’ve heard that they are suffering a bit money-wise, so I think they are going to accept your offer.”

“Let’s see what they say. I don’t want to buy them outright, but I do want to hold a good chunk of shares, especially Big Hit. Bang Si-Hyuk seems like a pretty cool guy. He gave me a tour of his small building and even introduced me to his debuting group a while back. I really want to help the guy.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy with anything you give him, sir.”

“Let’s see how it goes.”

IU then hands you some documents and says, “This is some information I found out about JYP Entertainment. If you look at the third page, you can see that JYP was going to debut a new girl group under the name “6MIX,” but it fell through.”

“Oh, it seems like they had a hard time debuting due to one of their members leaving.”

“Yes, they added another member, Sana. It seemed like they were going to debut, but another of their leader also left the company, so they ended up scrapping the whole thing.”

“Poor girls, so much hard work and training to debut only to have it scrapped.”

“Yes, one in particular has been in their company for a long time. I heard she’s a very good singer.”

“Oh really? If JYP accepts the help, maybe I can ask him to release them from their contracts and send them my way.”

“I’ll keep you posted if there is any news, sir.”

“Thank you.”

“Would that be all, sir?”

“Yes.”

“I have a meeting with one of the girls, so I’ll head to my office.”

“Actually, I’m going to grab a bite at the cafeteria, so I’ll walk with you.”

The two of you walk towards the hallway, slap IU's ass, and walk the opposite from each other. Little did you know that you were seen by someone, the person IU was going to have a meeting with.

————

You get a message from IU that she has received some inflation about the deal with Big Hit and JYP as you are coming from the gym. It’s been a few days since you got any information, so you’re excited to see what’s going on. Without changing, you walk into her office, sit on the couch, and listen to some good news.

You might not have noticed that Jennie has been curious about the relationship you and IU have since she’s a higher-up than you. She doesn’t know about your real position in the company and only thinks of you as one of the staff members. She was shocked when she saw you slapped IU on her ass and decided to follow you after that.

Today, she had another meeting with IU and planned on having a light snack at the cafeteria before meeting up with her. Since she finished early, she decided to head up to the administration floor and relax on the outdoor patio before the meeting. She exits the elevator and makes it to the top floor. Jennie walks down the hallway and notices how quiet it is. She wandered around and found Irene’s and the CEO's office before hearing a faint noise coming from the hall. She quietly makes her way to the noises and gets to IU’s office from where the noise is coming from.

Jennie tries to listen and places her ear by the door. She hears moaning coming from the other side. She tries to make up what the people instead are saying and can only decipher the male voices yelling that he’s going to cum.

After some silence, she notices that the voices are getting nearer and runs towards the opposite side of the hallway to where the patio is. She peeks her head out and sees you coming out the door and IU fixing her skirt.

“What the fuck, were they fucking in her office?”

“Omg, he’s getting it on with a higher-up in the company. Maybe I can use this.”

————

Later that night, you get a message from Jennie from your staff phone. You read the message, and it is asking you for help moving some items around the house. You’re not in the mood to message her that you can do it tomorrow, but she is persistent.

Somewhat annoyed, you put on a shirt and head down the elevator to the floor where their apartment is. You ring the doorbell, and Jennie opens the door within a few seconds. She wears a loose crop top and small shorts that show off her petite body.

“You said you needed to move some stuff, right?”

“Yeah, it’s in the living room.”

You walk to the living room and see the items she was referring to. You spend about ten minutes moving the things, and Jennie is watching you up close the whole time.

“Is that all you needed?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Alright, I’m going. I’m tired.”

“Okay, but I’ll call you if I need anything.”

“Please, don’t. The stuff wasn’t that heavy. Maybe try moving it between the five of you before calling me.”

You can tell that Jennie got upset by this based on her facial expression. “I don’t know why you’re complaining; it's part of your job.”

“It’s not. I was just doing this as a favor since you all just moved into the apartment, but that was a few months ago. You girls can figure stuff out,” as you grab your phone and head for the door.

Upset, Jennie yells, “If you’re going to be a douchebag about it all like the CEO, you’re messing around with his assistant.”

You turn around and see a grin on her face, blackmailing you. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I know that the two of you were fucking in her office the other day.”

“Lies.”

“I saw smack her ass a while back, and this time, you were leaving her office, and she was skirted and had a smile on her face.”

“If that’s true, how would you know?”

“I heard the two of you doing it.”

“No one is going to believe you.”

“Hmph, I wouldn’t be so sure. I have the CEO’s number.”

“You’re bluffing. You don’t have his number.”

“Yes, I do,” she said, holding her phone out.

“Alright, do it.”

“Okay, I will” and is about to press the call button but then says, “actually, he might be busy with important stuff. I don’t want to bother him.”

You know she doesn’t have your actual work number, so you tease her, “I don’t think he’s busy. Why don’t we go visit him and tell him the situation? I think he would be more than happy to hear about it.”

You can see her expression change, and she says, “No, I think we can just leave it like that.”

You grab her waist, “Let’s clear things up. I don’t want rumors that I’m messing with the CEO’s assistant.” You pull her hand, exit her apartment, walk towards the elevator, and press the button for the top floor.

Jennie looks nervous but tries to hide her expression. “He’s going to be upset that we’re bothering him.”

“I don’t think so, plus you’re blackmailing me.”

When you arrive at the top floor, the elevator rings, and you both exit and walk towards the hallway. You ring the doorbell, but there is no answer.

With a faint smile of relief, Jennie says, “See, he’s not here, so let me waist go.”

“Hmm… let me try something.” You press the numbers on the keypad and hear a ring, unlocking the door.

“How did you do that?”

You pull Jennie and lock the door. “Seems like no one is home. CEO-nim! Jennie and I are looking for you!”

“Stop, he’s going to be made that we’re inside his home. Let’s go.”

“No, I don’t want to; let’s have a bit of fun.” You walk towards the kitchen, open the fridge, and grab a beer. “He has some good taste, nice.”

“Leave it; he’s going to get mad!”

“No, he won’t.”

“Yes, he is. I heard that he’s mean.”

“Really? They said that?”

“Irene said that he makes them work to the bone.”

“No, I don’t. Wait until I see her tomorrow.”

Jennie’s reaction changes, and she says, “What did you say?”

“Nothing, forget about it.”

“You said something.” She stops, looks around, and walks to the living room. She sees pictures of you and freezes.

Frozen for also a minute, she turns around and says, “Are you CEO-nim?”

You want to play it off, but know that the gig is over. Instead, you smile and say, “Dang, you caught me. Surprise!”

Many things go through her mind, like how she ordered you around the apartment, teased you, and even tried to blackmail you.

“So what’s this about having my phone number and blackmailing me about fucking IU.”

Jennie gets on her knees, rubs her hands together, and begs, “I’m sorry. I was just joking around. I didn't mean it.”

“It wasn’t funny. Why did you do it?”

She bites her lip and tries to come up with a reason, saying, “I don’t know. I just wanted to tease you a bit and got jealous.”

“Jealous? What for?”

“You’re my type, and when I saw you and IU, I wanted to blackmail you so you can do whatever I say.”

“You know, that could have really gone bad and gotten someone hurt.”

“I’m sorry.”

“If you’re sorry, how will you take responsibility?”

“Ehh?”

“You said I’m your type, and you’re pretty cute yourself. How about we have some fun?”

Jennie can’t believe what your words. She knows she said that you’re her type, but that was as a staff/trainer. Now that she learned you’re the one in charge of the company, she doesn’t want to do anything that might endanger her chance at debuting but, at the same time, finds it kind of hot.

“What did you have in mind?”

“What do you think?” giving her a smirk.

Jennie knows what you’re thinking; it’s not like she hasn’t thought about it herself. You come close to her and grab her small behind, causing her to yelp.

She’s being this close to her. You know that she’s small and petite, “too, like a doll.”

“What?”

Instead of replying, you pick her up, carry her to the guestroom, and toss her onto the bed.

“Wait… what are you doing?”

“I’m going to fuck you.”

“I’m not ready yet.”

“I didn’t ask you if you were. I’m telling you what I’m going to do to you.”

Jennie is stunned by your words. The image of you has been turned 360 from ordering you around to the other way around. Deep down, she can’t help but feel small and submissive by someone so huge and powerful enough to change her life.

“Okay, I understand.”

“Since you do, then strip. I want to see what I’m going to be working with.”

Jennie gets off the bed and stands in front of you. She slowly begins to undress herself, taking off her crop top and her small shots.

Now in underwear, she shyly takes off her bra, revealing her small, cute breasts. She tries to cover them, “Don’t forget the bottom.”

You smile as she hesitates to pull down her panties and whines, “Do I really have to pull them down?”

“Do you want me to do them for you? Just letting you know that I won’t be gentle.”

“I…I’ll do it then,” as she slowly pulls them down until it drops on the floor and quickly cover her cunt.

“Take your hands off.”

“But…”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Jennie removes her hands, revealing her semi-bare cunt.

“Fuck, you have a pretty-looking pussy and a nice pair of tits. Lay down on the bed and spread that pussy for me.”

Jennie feels embarrassed but does what you told her. She lays on the bed and puts her legs up. She tries to spread her legs, but the idea of spreading them open and showing her pussy to someone for the first time is nerve-wracking.

“Spread them more!”

She widens her legs until you see her whole cunt in view. With both her index and middle fingers, she slowly spreads her pussy lips, giving you a view of her unused cunt. “How’s this?”

“Hot. You’re making me hard.”

“Really? I’m making you hard?”

“Yeah. Want to see?”

Jennie has never seen a cock before in real life, only on the internet when she would masturbate while in the dorms. Seeing one in real life is making her both nervous and excited, “yeah. I want to see it.”

You undo the bottom and drop your buttons, leaving only your boxers and a large bulge in sight.

Jennie can feel her heart beating faster as you pull down your boxers, which makes your cock springs out. “Wow, it’s so big. Can I touch it?”

“Of course,” you say with a grin.

Jennie, with her index finger, touches the tip of your cock and throbs, “Haha, it’s likes me.”

“How about grabbing it with your two hands?”

“Okay, but I don’t think I’ll be able to wrap my hands around it.” With her small hands, she tries to wrap her hand, almost touching her fingertips.

Turned on, you ask, “Can I take a picture?”

Jennie looks up at you and smiles, “Sure, you’re the boss, right? I have no say.”

“Glad to see you know your place.”

You grab your phone and take a shoot of Jennie handling your cock. “Try putting it in your mouth.”

“Like this?” as she uses the tip of her tongue to lick the head of your cock. “Yes, just like that.”

You record her slowly licking your length, your shaft, pulling the head in her mouth, and even her trying to take a bit of your cock in her mouth as she plays with her cunt.

“Fuck… I knew you were a slut” you say as she has your cock in her mouth. “Hmmm… I’ll be your slut, Daddy,” giving you a devilish smile. You grab her chin in between your hands and say, “We’re going to get along very well.”

She stands and lays on the bed once more and willingly spreads her legs for you, spreading her pussy, and says, “Make sure you get a picture of this.”

“You know how to turn on a guy, huh.”

“I just want to please you, Daddy. Plus, I want everyone to know that you’re going to be my first.”

You can’t wait any longer; you need to fuck her now. You set the phone down, walked back, and spread her legs. She grabs your cock and presses it against her belly, and asks, “Is all of that going inside of me?”

“It’s going to go right in here and reach all the way up here,” as you trace your finger and her wet cunt all the way up to her belly button.

“Fuck me already, Daddy. Make me a real woman,” begs Jennie.

You grab your cock and rub your shaft against her wet lower lips, spreading them and covering them in her sticky nectar. “I’m going to put it in; just relax.” She balls up her waist against her chest, “Okay.”

Jennie nervously watches as you align your massive cock against her small entrance, waiting for you to be her first and only cock she’s ever going to taste.

You press the tip on your cock and slowly insert yourself until you reach her thin barrier, which separates her from womanhood. You look directly into her eyes, signaling that you’re going to go all the way into it. She nods back and tries to prepare herself for what’s to come.

You grab her small waist and, without mercy, put your weight onto her petite body and slam yourself into her fresh womb. “Fuck!!! I’m cumming; you’re too big; you’re making me cum!”

Jennie’s body spasms, and she tilts her head back as she feels her orgasm overwhelming her.

“Haha, you just came from me putting it in? Let’s see how many times you cum.”

You don’t let her rest and put her into a mating press. She groans from not being able to ride off her orgasm, “Daddy, wait. You’re going to make me cum again. Let me rest.”

“A girl like you doesn’t deserve to rest; you’re my sex toy. I get to use you however I want,” slamming yourself inside her once again.

Jennie cries as she feels her insides being rearranged by your cock, “Ahh, you’re messing me up inside! I won’t be able to with anyone beside you! Fuck…you’re stretching my small pussy out!”

Watching her becoming a mess is getting you more turned on. Even if it’s her first time, she’s a natural. You place your hand on her neck and firmly tighten your grip. Jennie panics when she feels your hand choking her, puts her hands around your arms, and looks at you in terror. “Shh… baby girl, calm down; I’m not going to hurt you, just something the both of us to enjoy. Trust me.”

Directly looking at you, she lets go of her hands and instead focuses on you, thrusting inside of her. “You feel so tight, Jennie; I feel like cumming already,” as you tighten the grip of your hand around her neck.

You see Jennie trying to speak, so you loosen your grip, “Ahhh… cum… cum inside me, Daddy. I… I want to feel your cum in my tummy.”

You tighten your grip on her neck again as you fuck her roughly, only hearing the sound of both your flesh against each other. Little by little, you feel your peak approaching, a cold sensation in your back.

“Fuck… I’m going to dump all my cum in your tight little pussy!”

You feel all your cum shoot deep inside Jennie’s womb with your thick cum. Her eyes roll back from how tight you’re choking her as you pump a large load. Her body starts to go limp from the lack of air, so you let go of her neck and see the imprint of your hand around it.

Immediately, Jennie gasps for air and comes back to her senses. “You’re such a good girl, Jennie. I think you’re going to be my favorite toy from now on.”

She gives you a weak smile, grabs your hand, and places it back around her neck, “Keep fucking me, Daddy. I’m your dirty like toy.”

The two of you keep fucking all night long, every time you pump your cum in and on her body. At the end, you take a series of photos and videos of your work, Jennie’s body covered in cum and her cunt oozing out a mixture of both your juices.

—————

You wake up the next day and see Jennie under your arms. You try to get up, but she’s holding on to you. Rubbing her eyes, she turned around and said, “Good morning, Daddy.”

“Good morning, Jennie. How are you feeling?”

“Sore. I can still feel some of your cummies in my tummy. I feel my pussy gaped. I don’t think I'll be able to get married anymore, haha.”

“Good. You’re mine, anyways.”

“Jealous?”

“No. I just got like sharing my toys.” You grab her by the neck with a firm grip and say, “Don’t forget that, okay? You’re mine.”

“Yes, Daddy,” as she feels your strong hand choking her.

You let her go and walk to the bathroom to freshen up. Jennie looks at her phone and sees text messages from her group mates asking if she visited her mom since she didn’t sleep at the apartment.

Jennie replies to them and immediately gets an idea that makes her smile excitedly, “Daddy.”

“Yes.”

“Since I’m your sex toy, how about making the rest of us your toys?”

“You mean your groupmates?”

“Yeah, how bout it? Sounds like fun, right?”

“Doesn’t sound like a bad idea; I’ll think about it.”

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