#laboratory tap

[medilabware]

Buy Chemistry Lab Taps Online at Best Prices In India

Medilabware's chemistry lab taps are precision-engineered for optimal safety and performance in demanding laboratory environments. Offering durability and ease of use, these taps ensure precise control of water and gas flow, essential for accurate scientific experiments. Upgrade your lab with Medilabware's reliable and efficient solutions for enhanced operational excellence.

[death-limes]

falling headfirst back into my middle/highschool hyperfixation of shipping blossom ppg and dexter laboratory (aged up ofc), except now im a lot better with characterization and relationship dynamics so their whole story in my head has gotten a huge glow-up of sorts & i love them even more now

too bad they dont rlly have a fandom that gets Like That about them, ao3’s got slim pickins & most of it is just kinda basic

[keebeek]

mosquitoes in the wild: extremely prolific, breeding and killing machines, ubiquitous in almost every location at some point in the year, world's most dangerous animal

mosquitoes in lab: dies from touching tap water

[labfurnituremanufacturerinkol]

Maximizing Laboratory Efficiency: The Essential Role of Sinks and Taps

Introduction

Modern laboratories demand precision, safety, and efficiency in every aspect of their operations. At the heart of these requirements lies a crucial yet often overlooked component: laboratory sinks and taps. 

These essential installations serve as the backbone of countless daily operations, from sample preparation to emergency safety protocols.

Your laboratory's success depends on reliable access to clean, controlled water sources. A well-designed sink and tap system can:

Your laboratory's success depends on reliable access to clean, controlled water sources. A well-designed sink and tap system canto research outcomes

Enable proper eq

The Importance of Sinks and Taps in Laboratories

Clean water is essential for smooth laboratory operations. Laboratory sinks and laboratory taps are crucial in ensuring experiments remain uncontaminated and accurate by:

Preventing contamination between samples

Preparing solutions and reagents precisely

Cleaning laboratory equipment effectively

Keeping conditions sterile

A well-planned water supply system has a direct effect on the quality and dependability of research. Here are some key uses:

Sample Preparation: Using pure water guarantees correct concentrations and avoids unwanted chemical reactions.

Equipment Cleaning: Thorough cleaning processes require consistent access to water to maintain instrument accuracy.

Buffer Creation: Experiments sensitive to pH rely on water sources free from contamination.

Media Preparation: Biological studies need sterile conditions, which can be achieved through proper washing facilities.

How Sinks Improve Laboratory Efficiency

Strategically placing laboratory sinks helps create efficient workflows by:

Reducing movement between work areas

Minimizing the chances of spills during transport

Allowing quick access during critical procedures

Supporting multiple operations happening at the same time

Modern lab designs include specialized sink setups that can accommodate different container sizes and types of equipment. These carefully thought-out design features reduce delays, improve safety measures, and make daily tasks smoother - creating an environment where researchers can concentrate on their experiments without unnecessary distractions. Additionally, the use of high-quality taps ensures precise control over water flow, enabling accurate measurement and reducing the risk of errors in experiment setups. Therefore, investing in well-designed sink and tap systems is not just a matter of convenience; it is a fundamental aspect of maintaining research integrity and efficiency within the laboratory environment. Instead of logistical issues.

Moreover, the integration of backflow preventers in these research and laboratory buildings is vital for maintaining the integrity of the water supply, ensuring that contaminants do not flow back into the clean water sources from sinks or other outlets. This further enhances the reliability of water used in various laboratory processes.

Understanding Different Types of Laboratory Taps

Laboratory environments require specific tap configurations to meet various experimental needs and safety requirements. Each type of tap serves a different purpose, offering unique advantages for different laboratory applications.

1. Bib Taps

Bib taps are the most basic and commonly used tap configuration in laboratories. These simple fixtures have:

An easy-to-use on-off mechanism

Strong brass or stainless steel construction

Direct water flow delivery

Cost-Bib taps are the most basic and commonly used tap configuration in laboratories. These simple fixtures have:

effective installation

Minimal maintenance needs

The simplicity of bib taps makes them perfect for:

General washing procedures

Basic equipment cleaning

Quick access to water

Secondary workstations

Training laboratories

Advantages in Laboratory Settings

Bib taps offer several benefits in laboratory settings:

They can withstand frequent use

They resist exposure to chemicals

They are easy to operate for all skill levels

They can be installed and replaced quickly

They are compatible with most laboratory sinks

Contro Flow l Limitations

However, bib taps also have some limitations when it comes to controlling water flow:

They have limited precision in adjusting water flow

They only provide basic control over the flow rate

They cannot mix temperatures

The spout position is fixed

The reach is restricted

These limitations make bib taps less suitable for:

Precise volume measurements

Temperature-sensitive procedures

Filling delicate glassware

Applications that require specific flow rates

Tasks that need flexible angles for delivering water

The simple design of bib taps makes them reliable fixtures in laboratories where basic access to water is more important than precise control. Their strong construction and easy operation make them especially valuable in busy areas and teaching laboratories where durability is more important than advanced features.

2. Safety/Emergency Eye Wash Taps

Safety eye wash taps are crucial emergency equipment in laboratories. They are designed to provide immediate relief by delivering a controlled stream of water to flush out harmful substances from the eyes.

Key Safety Features:

Hands-free activation mechanisms

Dual spray heads for simultaneous eye washing

Temperature-controlled water flow

High-visibility signage and accessibility

Regulatory Requirements:

ANSI Z358.1 compliance for proper installation height

Weekly testing protocols

15-minute continuous water flow capability

Clear access path within 10 seconds of hazardous areas

These taps are connected to a dedicated water line, ensuring that water is always available during emergencies. They should be installed in well-lit areas and marked with clear safety signs. To keep the spray heads clean and ready for use, modern units often come with dust covers.

Safety eye wash taps work in conjunction with other emergency response systems in the laboratory, forming a comprehensive safety framework for dealing with chemical exposures and accidents.

3. Gooseneck Taps

Gooseneck taps stand out in laboratory settings with their distinctive curved spout design. This unique configuration provides several advantages for precise experimental work:

Key Features:

Adjustable spout heights ranging from 6 to 12 inches

360-degree rotation capability

Precise flow control through specialized valves

High-grade brass or stainless steel construction

The elevated spout design creates ample workspace beneath the tap, allowing you to manipulate large vessels and equipment without obstruction. You can position tall graduated cylinders, volumetric flasks, and other analytical glassware with ease.

The tap's precision control system enables you to adjust water flow from a gentle stream to a steady flow, essential for:

Preparing sensitive solutions

Filling delicate glassware

Conducting accurate titrations

Maintaining consistent water pressure during filtration processes

The durability of gooseneck taps makes them suitable for both general laboratory use and specialized applications requiring controlled water dispensing. Their corrosion-resistant materials ensure longevity in demanding laboratory environments. Additionally, many gooseneck taps are designed to be water-saving, as detailed in this catalog, which highlights features that reduce water usage without compromising performance.

4. Mixer Taps

Mixer taps are essential laboratory equipment that offer precise temperature control by combining hot and cold water supplies. These taps are especially useful in experiments where specific temperature requirements are crucial for accurate results.

Key Features:

Integration of hot and cold water supplies

Ability to adjust temperature

Maintenance of consistent water flow

Built-in safety features

These specialized taps are particularly effective in:

Preparing buffers at specific temperatures

Warming cell culture media

Conducting temperature-sensitive chemical reactions

Cleaning delicate equipment in a controlled manner

The built-in thermostatic controls prevent sudden temperature changes, safeguarding your samples and ensuring consistent experiments. Many modern mixer taps come with digital displays for precise temperature readings and preset options for commonly used temperature settings.

The ergonomic design allows for quick adjustments with minimal contact, reducing the risk of contamination during sensitive procedures. These taps often have anti-scalding mechanisms and temperature limiters for added safety during high-temperature applications.

5. Fume Cupboard Taps

Fume cupboard taps are specialized laboratory fixtures designed for handling hazardous materials. These taps have long spouts that extend through the side wall of the fume hood, allowing researchers to access water without compromising the containment barrier.

Safety Benefits

The strategic placement of these taps creates a safe working environment by:

Maintaining negative air pressure inside the hood

Preventing the escape of harmful vapors

Reducing the risk of chemical exposure

Safety Features

The design incorporates specific safety features:

Remote Operation: Controls mounted outside the hood enable operation without reaching inside

Chemical-Resistant Materials: Construction using materials that withstand corrosive substances

Length-Optimized Spouts: Precise positioning for minimal disruption to airflow patterns

Integration with Fume Hoods

These taps integrate seamlessly with modern fume hood systems, supporting both water delivery and proper ventilation. The spout length varies based on hood dimensions, ensuring optimal reach while maintaining safety protocols. Many models include color-coding systems to identify different services, such as water, gases, or specialized solutions.

The Rise of Portable Laboratory Sinks with Eco-Friendly Features

Portable laboratory sinks are changing the game when it comes to workspace flexibility, safety, and sustainability. Unlike traditional sinks that are permanently installed, these mobile sinks can be moved around and set up wherever they're needed.

Benefits of Portable Laboratory Sinks

Here are some of the key advantages of using portable laboratory sinks:

Rapid deployment in high-risk areas: These sinks can be quickly set up in areas where there may be safety hazards or emergencies.

No permanent plumbing requirements: Unlike fixed sinks that need extensive plumbing work, portable sinks don't require any permanent installations.

Cost-effective installation: Setting up a portable sink is usually cheaper than installing a new fixed sink.

Space optimization through mobility: Since these sinks can be moved around, they help optimize space in laboratories or work areas.

Enhanced emergency response capabilities: In case of an emergency, having portable sinks readily available can improve response times and safety measures.

Eco-Friendly Features in Modern Portable Sinks

Modern portable sinks are equipped with advanced eco-friendly features that make them more efficient in terms of water usage. Here are some examples:

Smart water monitoring systems: These systems track how much water is being used and help laboratories identify areas where they can use less water.

Built-in water recycling systems: Many portable sinks have built-in systems that recycle used water, reducing overall water consumption by up to 50%.

Sustainable Design Elements in Portable Sinks

In addition to the eco-friendly features mentioned above, portable sinks also incorporate sustainable design elements. Some of these elements include:

Low-flow aerators that maintain pressure while reducing water consumption

Gray water recycling capabilities

Motion-activated sensors preventing water waste

Energy-efficient heating systems

Biodegradable filter components

These sustainable design elements not only help conserve resources but also contribute to a greener environment.

Applications of Portable Laboratory Sinks

Portable laboratory sinks prove particularly valuable in various situations such as:

Temporary research setups

Emergency response scenarios

Facilities undergoing renovations

In these cases, you can quickly establish compliant washing stations without compromising research integrity or safety protocols.

The Role of IoT Technology

Newer models of portable sinks are integrating IoT (Internet of Things) technology which allows for real-time monitoring of water quality and usage patterns. This data-driven approach helps laboratory managers implement targeted conservation strategies while maintaining strict cleanliness standards.

Conclusion: Optimizing Laboratory Operations through Improved Sink and Tap Infrastructure

Effective sink and tap systems are essential for modern laboratory operations. These installations have a direct impact on:

Research accuracy by preventing contamination

Workflow efficiency through strategic placement

Safety protocols with specialized emergency features

Resource optimization with eco-friendly designs

The right combination of laboratory sinks and taps can transform your workspace into a high-performing environment. Your choice of installations, whether it's basic bib taps or advanced portable sinks, will influence the quality of research outcomes and operational efficiency. By investing in the appropriate sink and tap infrastructure, you are laying the groundwork for excellence in laboratory operations. This ensures that your facility can meet current demands while also preparing for future advancements in scientific research.

FAQs (Frequently Asked Questions)

What is the role of sinks and taps in modern laboratories?

Sinks and taps play a crucial role in modern laboratories by providing essential clean water for experiments, facilitating smooth workflows, and preventing contamination. Effective sink and tap systems are vital for maximizing laboratory efficiency.

Why is clean water important in laboratory settings?

Clean water is essential in laboratory settings to ensure accurate results and prevent contamination. It supports various experimental processes and maintains the integrity of samples.

What are the different types of laboratory taps available?

Different types of laboratory taps include bib taps, safety/emergency eye wash taps, gooseneck taps, mixer taps, and fume cupboard taps. Each type offers unique advantages tailored to specific laboratory needs.

What are the advantages of using gooseneck taps in laboratories?

Gooseneck taps provide precise flow control and adjustable spout lengths, making them ideal for experiments that require accuracy. Their versatility allows for a wide range of applications in laboratory settings.

How do portable laboratory sinks enhance safety and efficiency?

Portable laboratory sinks offer immediate access to clean water in high-risk areas, enhancing safety during emergency situations. They also feature eco-friendly designs that optimize resource usage compared to traditional installations.

What considerations should be made regarding tap systems for hazardous environments?

In hazardous environments, it is crucial to use specialized designs like fume cupboard taps that ensure safe access while maintaining containment. Compliance with regulatory safety protocols is also essential to protect personnel and maintain operational efficiency.

[red-dyed-sarumane]

having not played rhythm games for months and then picking up kamicity ensemble ive gotten SO bad at proseka. i was like its so over but im finally down to 5 greats it may possible to ap maximizer ex yet.

[yukioos]

ESPRESSO (BED CHEM PT2)

SUMMARY: viktor x reader // you awake from loud bangs at the end of the hallway. spooked, you cautiously walk down just to see it was jayce and viktor with their working hextech, and a not so happy professor heimdinger.

AUTHORS NOTE: hi guysss!! requests for jayce, mel, and viktor are now open! i might start writing for other arcane character soon. sorry this took so long to post 💗 also tysm for 300 followers! i never knew bed chem would blow up so much :) i appreciate all the love and support! kinda feel like i should make a part 3 but im not sure yet🤭🤭 this is 1.4k words

WARNINGS: cussing, not proofread

TAGS: @th3stup1dcat @aise-30 @22carolina08 @sarahskywalker-amidala @novausstuff @sseleniaa @blueesmiski @coffeemin @na0mii03

loud bangs awake you from your sleep. you jump up, feeling startled by the intense noise. you grumble from your comfortable bed and give in, throwing your luxury covers off your body.

cool air quickly envelopes your frame, and you swing your legs over the side of your bed, laying your feet on the cold floor. you shiver at the feeling, then slip on your fuzzy slippers, meant for walking during cold mornings.

enforcers must be at the place of disturbance. you wouldn’t know what to do if they aren’t already dealing with the problem. after picking up a coat from a hanger, you quickly walk to the noise.

unpredictably, the enforcers were the individuals causing the disruption. professor heimerdinger stands in the middle of the two men dressed in dark blue. you stand at a safe distance, watching the enforcers pound on the door, observing the moment.

loud buzzing and crackling is heard from inside the lab, and blue light shines through the cracks of the door. you remember what you said to the two men just a couple of hours ago. hopefully, jayce and viktor haven’t done anything too dangerous.

the double door suddenly blasts open, and pieces of wood fly in various directions. a bright, blue ray of light explodes in the professor and enforcers’ way. you hide behind a nearby wall and cover your head, expecting the worst. but when hardly any destruction occurs, you peek around the wall.

the yordle warns, “excuse me, underfoot,” causing the enforcers to unshield their faces and stare in awe at the sight in front of them.

viewing their stances, you walk behind them and take a peek into the laboratory. viktor and jayce float around a blue ball of energy. jayce chuckles and taps a gadget into the ball of energy, and it goes right through. viktor catches it from the other side and begins giggling like a child as he makes swimming motions.

the professor stares up at the sight. his ears droop and he undoubtedly states, “you’ve actually done it.” his ears flop up, and he fidgets with his hands, “but just because it can be done, doesn’t mean…” he looks up, “will you please stop hovering?”

the cute brunette continues to move in the air, he jokes, “i’m not sure how to do that, sir.”

you giggle, placing a hand over your mouth, and the enforcers cautiously turn around. you place your finger to your mouth, silently commanding them to say nothing about your appearance.

the professor nervously adds, “this is not what piltover’s future looks like, my dear boys.” he looks behind him, a worried expression on his face, as if he’s about to break down in tears. his eyes meet yours, and he jumps, “ah! councilor l/n, what are you doing here… at this time? it’s late, you should be sleeping!”

you quickly come up with an excuse, “i apologize, professor. i couldn’t rest, so i was planning to take a trip to the garden. i thought, perhaps it would calm my nerves.”

you smile at the enforcers, and they clear their way to make a path for you. you peer into the inside of the room, eyes widening in shock. you mumble, “woah,” the sight is one of the most beautiful you’ve ever seen.

nothing could compare to this moment. this moment will be remembered in history. the blue light shines all across the room, and people float for the first time with nothing to stand on! best of all, viktor and jayce will get accreditation for this work and dedication to their hextech project.

you lock eyes with viktor just to realize his eyes were on you the whole time. warmth somehow reaches your body in the cold academy, and you still manage to ask, “how did you do this so quickly?”

“we…” viktor starts answering, not knowing how to continue without sounding stupid in front of a well-known figure and beautiful woman, “we cranked it,” he chuckles along with jayce.

you have no idea what the hell he’s talking about, but damn, does he look attractive. his eye bags are dark under his eyes. you suppose he spends most of his night working on scientific research, and his messy hair flows in the air, most likely ruining his hair from the explosion.

his white vest has stains on it, maybe from drinking tea to keep himself awake. but viktor appears as if he’s close to passing out, so you ask, “are you aware of how to get down, gentlemen?”

jayce looks at his partner, probably trying to check in with him, “maybe turn the dial to the left?”

viktor shrugs and states, “worth a shot.”

you walk to the dial and ask the two men if you’re near the correct one. you slowly turn it left, anxiously waiting for something terrible to happen, or for one of them to command you to halt your movement.

the two brunettes suddenly drop at a quick speed, yelling at the unexpected scene. you move at lightning speed, running to the closest man, as the two enforcers run to the other. you half-catch the taller, lean man, his feet on the ground as you hold his waist for security.

he stares at you for a few moments as his face flushes, he mumbles, “thank you, councilor l/n.” and smiles at you, eyes darting from you to his cane, lying on the ground.

his arm lays around your shoulder, and you bring him close to a desk he can lean on. without a word, you step over to his handmade cane and pick up the delicate material, placing it in his hand. he thanks you once again.

you come up with an idea and grin to yourself. you politely ask, “are you two free tomorrow? i would like to talk about the future of piltover and what you have planned for what you will do with the hextech next.”

jayce brushes off his pants and places his hand on his chin before smirking, “actually! i have to uhh—“ he stutters, attempting to come up with an excuse, “i’m hanging out with caitlyn. i’m afraid i can’t make it, councilor l/n.”

you drown and politely reword your sentence, “perhaps we can reschedule a time so you can come—“

“oh, no! that isn’t necessary, please do not worry about it. i’m sure viktor can tell me everything you’ll talk about with him.” jayce winks at the shorter brunette. he gives him a sharp glare back.

“i am free of events tomorrow. where should we meet? and at what time, councilor?” viktor asks, trying to appear formal and proper in front of you.

“how about we discuss it at celine’s around twelve? it’s just six blocks past the academy.”

he smiles and looks down at you, “that would be perfect,” his freckles stand out to you so much.

you take a moment to remember his face before sighing, “it’s late. we should all be going to bed.”

many agrees and chuckles at shears from around you, and you smile and wave at the three scientists and two enforcers. as you step through the hallway, you jump and cheer, pumping your fist in the air. you practically get to go on a date with viktor tomorrow!

once he and jayce are the only individuals in the room, viktor leans on the desk and places his head in his hands, groaning. he isn’t ready to talk to you one-on-one yet.

jayce rolls his eyes, “what’s wrong? i just gave you a pass to be alone with her— for hours. that’s the perfect time to get to know her.”

“what am i supposed to talk about, jayce? you know i’m not the best at conversations or communicating, what makes you think i can talk to a person i’m interested in?” he complains, gently hitting his head with his wrist.

“it’ll come to you when you’re ready.”

“that isn’t helpful at all,” viktor side eyes the taller man, who just shrugs and tells him goodnight.

as viktor walks back to his room, even as he brushes his teeth, puts on his sleep clothes, all he can think about is impressing you tomorrow. maybe jayce is right, maybe he just doesn’t know how he’d talk to you now.

[romanofftherealest]

Dark Red

Summary: You didn't expect anything from Wanda, not after everything you had put her through as part of a HYDRA operative. You knew that you had hurt her, and that there was no way to repair the damage. But at the same time, you wanted her to be free from HYDRA and everything that had happened to her. So you offered her your home, hoping that it would give her some measure of safety, independence and authority.

Pairings: Super Soldier Wanda Maximoff x Hydra Scientist Female Reader

Word count: 5.5k

Tags | Warnings: +18 dark, smut, angst, death, AMAB!Wanda, top!Wanda, bottom!reader, HYDRA experimentation, implied r4p3 (r), degradation, masturbation, breeding, fingering (r receiving)

Author's Note: Scheduled repost

ᱬ

"Stop it!"

You roared, your voice echoing through the sterile, cold lab as you watched her strapped up body in the chair. Her muscles strained against the unyielding leather restraints, her hooked up body in the machines shaking with rage. Wanda's face was contorted in pain, veins bulging beneath her skin as the incomplete experiment wreaked havoc on her body.

She has been screaming for four minutes now. And all you were able to do is watch.

You are the lead scientist in this Super Soldier Project of HYDRA. The brilliant scientist who doesn't see you as a person, only as a specimen to be poked and prodded since you are the only woman in this man's world. Well, you've had enough.

"Prekrati eto seychas!" (Stop now!)

As you stood there, chest heaving with barely contained anger, the men in the lab finally took notice. They turned to face you, a collective realization dawning on their faces. This was the first time they had ever seen you truly angry. The whirring of machinery slowed to a stop, the hum of equipment faded away. The lab, once a symphony of scientific exploration, fell silent.

It took your full-blown rage for them to finally listen, to heed your words.

"Get out," you said, your voice low and steady, belying the fury raging inside you. "All of you. I'll continue this done alone. You've had your chance to work with me as an equal, and you've squandered it with your arrogance and disregard."

"Do not touch her." Was the last thing you said before all the doctors flew out of the lab.

You for sure will receive a handful and punishment from Strucker after all this.

When you saw that they're entirely gone you slowly and nervously approached Wanda, your heart heavy with the sight before you. Her chest heaved with labored breaths, her eyes clenched shut as she struggled to cope with the lingering pain from the experiment. You reached out, placing a gentle hand on her chest, feeling the rapid rhythm of her heartbeat. As your hand made contact with her chest, Her eyes flew open, she thrashed against her restraints, struggling to break free.

"Get. Away. From. Me." She spat, each word punctuated by the violent jerking of her limbs against the unyielding restraints. You recoiled immediately, your heart clenching at the sight of her so enraged and helpless.

You're not scared of her.

As your fingers grazed her bare skin to begin unstrapping her, Wanda's power surged. In an instant, you found yourself pinned against the cold laboratory wall, her hand clasped around your throat. Her eyes blazed with an otherworldly crimson light, her breath coming in ragged pants.

You tapped weakly at the iron grip around your neck, gasping for breath. Your feet dangled helplessly above the ground as Wanda's unbridled power held you captive. Her face was inches from yours, her expression wild and unrecognizable.

"Wanda..." you choked out. Your words seemed to pierce through the fog of her rage. Her eyes flickered back to their normal hue, the crimson receding as if a switch had been flipped. She immediately released her grip, horror flashing across her face as she stepped back and turned around.

You rubbed at your sore throat, coughing slightly as you quickly and limply shuffled to the nearby tray. Seizing the injection, you dashed back to Wanda who had no idea what was happening and plunged the needle into her neck—in the blink of an eye she slumped unconscious in the ground in front of you.

ᱬ

Wanda's eyes flutter open to an unfamiliar room, the dim light casting long shadows that dance on the walls. She's not strapped to a chair, but instead, lies in a soft warm bed. The space is tiny, cozy even, unlike the cold, sterile lab that's been her waking nightmare. Her senses remain dulled compared to the hyperawareness drilled into her by HYDRA's conditioning. The strange room, so unlike the lab's familiarity, failed to provoke alarm on her; instead, she finds a peculiar sense of security in its unfamiliarity.

As Wanda slowly sits up, her muscles protest with stiffness and soreness. She winces at the pain but manages to push through it, her eyes darting around the small room.

You enter the room, pausing momentarily as you register Wanda's awake and upright position. As you slowly walk towards her, your eyes flicker to Wanda's hands. Her fingertips bear the faintest glow of red magic, swirling gently. It's a sign—a sign that she's alert, that her powers are active.

She could kill you.

You're painfully aware that with a single snap of her fingers, she could incinerate you where you stand. No compound, no machines, no backup—just you and your words against an enraged witch.

"Hey, easy there," you say softly, moving closer to the bed with measured steps, as if approaching a startled animal.

Wanda's voice carries an edge, a threatening undertone, "Where am I?"

You glance at Wanda's hands, wishing the red magic would fade away. But you keep your focus on her, offering her reassurance although your shaky voice was so evident. "You're…in my place, Wanda. You're safe here. No one will hurt you."

"No one will hurt me?" she smirked, "But you're here," she suddenly growled, anger flashing in her eyes.

"Wanda…I am not going to hurt you," you stammer, backing away slowly. Your heart pounds in your chest but you force your voice to remain steady.

"Then why am I here, doctor?" Wanda demands, her voice dropping dangerously low with her thick accent. Her red eyes narrow and she tilts her head ever so slightly, as if daring you to give an answer she won't like. "In your room?" she smirks slightly.

Your breath catches as Wanda looms mere inches away, her imposing figure blocking any escape route. To avoid her penetrating gaze, your eyes flicker sideways and land down on her hands. The crimson magic swirls hypnotically, a vivid reminder of the power she wields from the serum you made together with the mind stone.

"You're...you're free to go," you say in a small voice.

Wanda scoffs, a humorless sound that's more menacing than any shout. "Free?" she echoes, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm free?" she leans in closer, her face inches from yours. "After everything they've done? After everything you've done?"

You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, trembling as Wanda's face hovers mere inches from your cheek. Her breath, hot and agitated, ghosts across your skin. The scent of ozone and something darker, more primal, fills your nostrils. You brace yourself, knowing that the slightest wrong move could spell your doom.

"You could've done it sooner," Wanda hisses, her voice barely containing fury. She pushes away from you, turning her back as she takes a step away. The tension in your shoulders eases slightly, the knot in your throat growing tighter. "But instead," she says, her voice cold and hard, "you stood there and watched. You did nothing."

Like what you are right now. Doing nothing, standing once again in fear but not in the hands of HYDRA—but its experiment.

"Because that's the only thing you do, doctor," Wanda says, her tone dripping with venom. She stretches her neck sideways, the sound of cracking bones echoing through the room as she massages her muscles. "You watch, you observe, you record. You never intervene, never question, never help. Tell me, Doctor, how many lives could you have saved by acting instead of…watching?" she counts on her fingers mockingly. "One. Two. A dozen? More?"

"If you wanna stay here you can stay." Before she could even reply, you turn and rush out of the room, not daring to look back. The tears you've been holding back finally break free, streaming down your cheeks as you flee the room.

The echoes of Wanda's words still ringing in your ears. She was right, every cruel word. You did nothing. You could have saved lives or helped her escape sooner...but you didn't.

You've made wrong decisions before, joining HYDRA included. But this, this is different. This time, you're choosing to walk away to assert your own will. For once, you're not a puppet—you're not following orders from Strucker or HYDRA even if you know the cost will be your own life.

ᱬ

You didn't expect anything from Wanda, not after everything you had put her through as part of a HYDRA operative. You knew that you had hurt her, and that there was no way to repair the damage. But at the same time, you wanted her to be free from HYDRA and everything that had happened to her. So you offered her your home, hoping that it would give her some measure of safety, independence, and authority.

The tension between you and Wanda was gone as the day went by, you don't see each other after your last encounter with her. You almost thought she had left your home, but when the food you leave on the counter as well as your food stocks are gone every morning, you know she's still staying, so you try to avoid her as much as possible. But you knew that this couldn't go on forever. Something needed to change and you weren't sure how to broach the subject like there was a wall between you that neither of you could break through.

One morning, you woke up and noticed that the food you had left for Wanda was still untouched. Something felt off, but you knew she was gone.

As far as you were concerned, she was free now. She could do whatever she wanted and you wouldn't stop her. In fact, you hoped that she would make a life for herself, one that was free from the shadows of HYDRA and all its secrets.

You entered her room, that was your room hesitantly, half hoping that she would still be there. But as soon as you looked around, the room was left exactly the same, she might have left in the middle of the night, leaving no trace behind.

All that remained in the room was her scent—an intoxicating fragrance that reminded you of her.

You covered the windows, making sure that no one could see in or out, securing it as best as you could. You knew that HYDRA was looking for you, and you didn't know how much time you had before they find you.

The night had finally arrived, you shut every door and locked it, trying to feel comfortable despite the anxiety building inside of you. You also had made sure to disconnect all signals from your apartment, knowing that HYDRA had ways of tracking you even with them.

You took the syringe that you had hidden and made, with a serum that could make someone meet whoever entity they were praying upon—it is the only defense you had against anyone. You placed it on your bedside table before getting into bed and settling in. You knew how dangerous it would be if they found you, but you had to be prepared for the worst-case scenario. As you closed your eyes, you tried to push away the fear and doubt that was creeping in.

You lay in bed, tossing and turning as the anxiety and adrenaline raced through your body. You were getting sweaty and restless, unable to sleep no matter how hard you tried to relax. The thought of HYDRA finding you loomed in your mind, keeping you up and alert and where Wanda might be. But you decided to shake away the thoughts of her, with that serum coursing through her veins? She can protect herself more than you. You tried to take deep breaths and tell yourself that everything would be okay, but the feeling of fear and helplessness was too much.

The familiar, unwanted urge rises again. Your hands shake slightly as they move down your legs, the sensation both comforting and torturous. You take a deep, shaky breath, trying to push away the guilt and shame that always follows. This is your secret, your dirty little habit—a coping mechanism born from years of trauma and manipulation. You bite your lip hard, your touch is feather-light, gentle but insistent as you try to distract yourself from the swirling thoughts. You move in slowly gathering your wetness, deliberate circles, breathing deeply to keep from making any noise.

As your fingers begin to move more purposefully on your clit, a small whimper escapes your throat. You clamp your hand over your mouth, biting down hard on your knuckles to muffle any further sounds.

"Oh fuck…"

Still lost in trying to reach your high, you continue touching yourself, unaware of the threat lurking in the shadows. Your breathing becomes heavier as your fingers move faster. The intruder moves closer, their steps silent but deliberate.

Their smirk grows wider as they watch you struggle, your face scrunched up in concentration at the same time trying a hard time not to fall asleep as you try to reach that elusive peak and they can sense your desperation. Before you could even reach your high, you already fell in slumber.

"Bednaya devochka," (Poor girl) they whispered, "Touching yourself just to fall asleep, you're such a slut."

Your hands are still resting on the damp fabric of your pajamas, the evidence of your frustration still visible. The unknown figure approaches slowly, carefully removing a strand of hair from your face. Their touch is light, almost ghostly against your skin.

They gently lift your hands from your pajamas, examining your pointy finger that you had used…noting the slight trembling and the wetness from your own pussy.

"You don't even know how to touch yourself, you really always need someone else to do it for you? Hm?" they sucked your finger into their mouth, licking and sucking all the juices off it. Their eyes remain fixed on your sleeping form, a look of tender cruelty on their face. They moan softly at the taste, "Such a sweet little thing…"

When they finally pull your finger free, they reach out and pull the blankets up to your chin, tucking you in tightly.

ᱬ

You woke up with the sight of red wisps of magic trailing from your bedside to the window. You quickly but silently got out of bed and followed the trail of magic, looking out the window to see what was on the other side but there's no one and there is only one person you know that can cast that red magic.

Wanda.

Your thoughts were interrupted as you were suddenly grabbed from behind. A strong hand clamped over your mouth, smothering any sound you might make.

"Stay still, don't make any noise. Strucker has been in your home."

You squeaked in surprise as Wanda suddenly grabbed you and threw you over her shoulders in a fireman's carry. Your mind was still reeling from the shock, and the sudden change in position left you feeling even more disoriented. You clenched your jaw, fighting the urge to cry out and attract attention.

"Stay quiet, we have to move quickly."

Wanda jumped out the window, landing cleanly on her feet before breaking into a sprint towards the nearby forest. You held on tight to her as she carried you, the wind whipping through your hair as she ran, you watched your apartment disappear from your sight. The terrain was rough and uneven, but Wanda navigated it effortlessly, weaving through trees and bushes without missing a beat.

In spite of the fact that she was carrying you, Wanda's pace was relentless and fast, her legs pumping harder with each stride. It was clear that the super soldier serum coursing through her veins was giving her superhuman strength and stamina, allowing her to run for miles without tiring.

After Wanda felt like it was safe for you to finally walk alone, she came to a stop in a secluded clearing deep within the forest. She gently sets you down on the ground, taking a moment to catch her breath. You looked around, noting the thick foliage and the fact that you were well hidden from view.

Wanda stood above you for a moment, her eyes scanning the surroundings to ensure that you were safe. When she was satisfied, she finally said, "We're safe for now. This way leads to the borders, we can find a place to stay at night."

She started kneeling down to her foot, removing her boots. You were stunned when she took your foot and wore it on you—you didn't fight back—you cannot fight back.

"How'd you know Strucker was in my place?" you asked, staring at her as she finally stood. Your eyes ran down to her now bare feet.

"Did you make him stay?" Wanda asked back—suspiciously.

"No." You defended, your voice rising in volume before you could even catch it. You will never have Strucker into your home, not when you're literally trying to escape him.

"Seems like he's making himself comfortable at your home." You just shook your head side to side, hiding the tears threatening to fall down your face.

You and Wanda continued through the forest for what seemed like hours, your legs starting to ache from the long and tiring walk. The sun is setting but finally, in the distance, you saw a small, run-down motel nestled discreetly among the trees.

You both entered the motel cautiously, glancing around the small lobby. The lobby was small and cramped. You couldn't help but notice the layer of dust that seemed to cling to every surface, giving the place a neglected and somewhat eerie feeling. There was only one person manning the front desk, a bored-looking clerk who barely glanced up as you approached.

Now, the clerk eyed you with apathy, as if silently judging your presence here.

"S voynov, idushchey seychas, vam nuzhno zaplatit' v tri raza bol'she," (With the war going on now, you have to pay three times more) the clerk said, gesturing to the rates listed on a worn-out placard on the wall.

You could sense the tension in the air as the clerk spoke, and you knew that Wanda was just one snap away from controlling the situation. But you also knew the risks that would come with exercising her abilities, and you warned her with a subtle shake of your head.

Wanda noticed your gesture and reluctantly held back, her eyes flickering towards the clerk in barely concealed anger—it's like the owner trying to tame its puppy.

The clerk watched as you pulled out some cash from your bra. You have put it there in case of emergency, as well as the extra deadly serum you have left.

However, Wanda looked equally red-faced and awkward. Her eyes grew wide seeing your bare chest skin and the lacy bra that peeked on your sleeping shirt. She quickly averted her gaze, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Instead, her eyes landed on the clerk who was staring at you with a smirk on her face. This time, Wanda couldn't help but cast red wisps on her fingers but fortunately you immediately saw it, you didn't hesitate and held her hand to stop her from doing anything.

The clerk finally broke her staring contest on your cleavage and placed a rusty key on the desk, next to which was a small slip of paper with room number 7 written on it. She slid the key and paper towards you, her expression still neutral as if she has not been trying to eye fuck you.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath as you stepped into the room and saw that it only had one bed. The room was small and dingy, the furniture worn and outdated. The wallpaper was peeling and the carpet had seen better days, the stench of old cigarette smoke still lingering in the air.

Wanda stepped in behind you, shutting the door shut behind her.

"I'll have the bed, you can have the sheets so you can sleep on the floor." You said in a neutral tone, gesturing towards the linens that lay beside it. Well, you paid for the room, so you have more rights for the comfort.

You bent down to take off Wanda's boots, setting them aside before standing up and watched as she set her bag down on the bed and went to the windows, checking to see if someone was outside.

Wanda was obviously exhausted but just as obviously didn't want to show it and that made you feel guilty. She finished checking the windows and turned to you, with an unreadable expression.

"We can't stay longer here. We need to move first thing tomorrow morning. I'll take a shower, don't open the doors to anyone."

The redhead's eyes were on you as you sat on the bed and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of unease mixed with something else, something inexplicable. You gulped, your throat suddenly dry as you met her gaze, only to find her studying you intently before walking towards the bathroom.

You were sitting on the bed, trying to distract yourself from the sound of Wanda showering when there was a sudden knock on the door. You jumped slightly, startled by the unexpected noise. The knock came again, more insistent this time.

"Open the door," a gruff voice said from the other side. Your heart began to race as the knock came again, more urgently this time.

You looked around the room, realizing there was no peephole on the door, leaving you blind as to who was outside. You took a deep breath before opening the door slightly, revealing the clerk with a cigarette in her hand and a couple of towels folded over her other arm.

She looked you up and down, taking a drag of her cigarette before speaking. "Here. Fresh towels," she said, handing the towels to you.

Before you could even reach out to get it, the door suddenly slammed shut by red wisps of magic. You spun around to find Wanda standing behind you, her hair dripping wet and a towel wrapped tightly around her body.

She was clearly furious, her eyes narrow and nostrils flared. "Who was that?" she asked through clenched teeth.

Despite her anger, you couldn't help but fixate on her arms, which were still wet with water and revealed a muscular toned physique. You gulped at the sight and shamed yourself for looking.

"It was just the—"

"I told you not to open the door to anyone." She hissed. "Fucking puppet, you just do whatever you're told to."

"So are you." You spat before you could even think.

"I'm not a slut like you." She smirked as you walked backwards to the bed, gulping at the sight of Wanda securing the towel over her body.

"As far as I can remember it's not me who willingly signed up to be experimented on by HYDRA." You retaliate, in a low tone but enough for Wanda to hear.

"Did you like it when Strucker fucked you after you're done experimenting me?" Wanda's harsh words pierce the air, making you freeze in shock and terror. Tears well up in your eyes as you stare at Wanda, your bottom lip trembling.

"I-I...what are you talking about? I..." you stammer, but Wanda cuts you off with a bitter laugh.

"Oh, don't play innocent," Wanda spits out, her voice laced with resentment. "Tell me, did you enjoy your little experiments? Did you enjoy being Strucker's whore while he tortured me? Did you get wet while I was getting tortured?"

"Did you think of him while you touched yourself last night?"

"No…" your own word hit too close to home, bringing back painful memories you've tried to suppress, it is the only thing you can say while Strucker used you, forced himself on you—ruining you for anyone else.

"Don't. Just...don't. Please…I never chose to be…used."

As you cover your face, your mind is flooded with horrific flashbacks. Strucker's cold hands violating you, his cruel laughter ringing in your ears as he took piece after piece of your sanity. Each touch branded in your flesh, each degrading act carved into your soul. You can feel his hands...his hands everywhere, tearing you, breaking you down piece by piece until there was nothing left but emptiness and despair.

Strucker didn't just exploit your mind for his nefarious super soldier project; he used you on a deeply personal level, using your helpless form as an outlet for his own pleasure and sadistic urges.

And you did, you let them, you let him. You became his puppet…

So he can spare Wanda.

You did everything he asked you to, in exchange for Wanda's life. She will be experimented upon but she will not be killed after it's done or after the experiment failed on her. Because you don't want to happen to her what happened to her twin brother.

"Answer me, Y/N, did you think of him?"

Your body spasms at Wanda's agonizing question, a choked sob escaping your lips. The accusation burns like acid through your veins.

"N-no, no, no..." you choked desperately, shaking your head in denial.

"Tell me, did you? Did you think of him while you fucked yourself last night? Huh?!"

"No..."

"Who did you think of?" she asks again, her tone now sickly calming…

"You." The word tumbled from your trembling lips.

A tear fell down your cheek as Wanda surges forward, her hands gripping your face roughly as she crashes her lips against yours. It's a bruising, almost violent kiss, fueled by pent-up emotions and desperation and frustration she had on you. Her breath is hot against your mouth as she demands access to your tongue.

"I can make you forget him," she breathes against your ear, her voice a dangerous whisper. "Every twisted moment, every sick memory he forced into your mind. I can take it all away." She pulls back slightly, her crimson eyes burning into yours with an intensity that's both terrifying and alluring, "Let me erase him from your mind, so all you remember is," she pauses, her lips brushing against your ear, "me…"

The towel lies discarded on the cold floor, revealing Wanda's pale, unmarked body. Her unclothed breasts brushing against yours. You're both bare now, skin against skin, her on top of you.

"Starting now," Wanda's fingers rake down your breasts, leaving a trail of tingling heat in their wake, "I'll overwrite every trace of him, engrave myself so deep inside you that you'll forget what reality feels like."

Her hands roam possessively over your body, mapping out every curve as if she's claiming uncharted territory.

She whispers against your collarbone, "His touch, his voice, I'll replace it all with mine..." then she bites gently, marking you. Her fingers find your center, stroking confidently, "You'll scream my name until it's the only thing you remember, until he's nothing but a forgotten nightmare." She kisses you roughly, catching your lower lip between her teeth, "And then…"

"I'll break you open again and fill you up with me."

She swallows your moans with hungry kisses, her two fingers plummeting inside you while her thumb rubbed your clit. She feels every quiver, every clench, adjusting to her touch accordingly.

"Mine, only mine." Wanda withdrew her fingers coated in your dripping wetness, you shuddered as she brought her fingers to her mouth. She savors the taste intensely, her tongue swirling around her digits.

Her face contorts with pleasure as she starts to rub her length with her slick pre-cum, her hips bucking into her own hand. You watch—mesmerized, she looks up at you through heavy lidded eyes, her breath hitching as she sees you staring. She spreads her thighs wider, giving you an unobstructed view as she continues to slick herself up.

Wanda suddenly pulls her hand away, leaving her aching cock throbbing and glistening. "Do you see what you do to me? How desperate I am to be inside you?" she reaches out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer. "Come here. " Her breath is hot against your ear as she whispers, "Spread your legs wider, give me that dripping pussy." she guides your hand to her cock, pressing your small fingers against it. Her voice is husky with desire. "Mount me." She releases your wrist, her hands moving to grip your hips as she looks up at you with a fierce, intense gaze. "Ride me. Take what you need." She guides you to straddle her hips, her throbbing length pressing against your slick entrance.

"W-Wanda!" you cried.

"Shhh...don't make those sounds, they're driving me crazy." Her fingers dig into your hips, "You're so tight, so perfect ugh-fuck, take all of me, Y/N." She begins to slowly guide you down onto her cock.

You let out a moan on each bounce.

"Did he fuck you like this?"

"No!" you cried again, while shaking your head as she bounced you on her cock, tits bouncing and pressing against her own.

"Did he even make you come? Detka?" she thrusts upward sharply as she speaks, making you gasp.

"No, Wanda! No!"

"Bednaya devochka." (Poor girl) She trailed kisses along your already bruised neck up to your cheek. "You know how much it hurt me? When I had to watch him..." she trails off with the painful memory, "How much I wanted kill him?"

It was when Strucker punished you, having to fail a task he had given months prior. Another serum that would work on Wanda, to avoid the failure that is her brother—as the bald man calls it and you hated him for it. When Strucker found out that nothing almost happened to Wanda, no reactions, no pains, only relief that she doesn't need to go through all that suffering—he had lashed out to you, accusing you of sabotaging the plans. He almost killed you with a syringe with serum, a serum you know your body won't take well. But instead, he took you right there, in a room inside the lab where Wanda was strapped in metals because nothing can hold her body anymore.

The door was slightly opened and there she saw you, bent over the desk, your body was almost lifeless. There was no more fight in you, you were just letting Strucker use you. Both your gazes locked and Wanda didn't miss how you uttered her name.

"Wanda...I'm sorry."

And that tear, that single tear that slid down your cheek after made her lost it. She started growling and screaming and so are the metals that is holding her body, it saved you from what Strucker was about to do more on your body. But once again, Wanda had to take it all—her body had to take it all when Strucker once again injected a God knows what serum just to make her stop.

You hide yourself on her neck, those memories aren't playing in your mind anymore, you were just so focused on the pleasure as she relentlessly pounded on you. She really did make you forget anything from your past.

Wanda leans in close to your ear, her breath ragged from exertion and arousal. "Say my name, Y/N. Who's claiming this pussy right now?" her hand went to your hair forcing you to look at her.

"You, Wanda!"

Her eyes flash with triumph as she feels your body shudder and clench around her, squeezing her cock tightly. "That's it, come for me." She slams into you hard and deep, pushing you over the edge as your orgasm crashes through you. She captures your mouth in a fierce, dominating kiss, swallowing your screams of ecstasy as she continues to pound into you her thumb rubbing your clit, extending your high and making you come again and again.

A whimper escapes your lips as Wanda's cock slides out of your sensitive pussy, leaving you feeling empty and craving more. But then Wanda slammed you back onto the bed and climbed on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head.

"Wanda..."

She slammed her cock back inside you with brutal force. She starts drilling into you again, her hips pounding against yours with relentless intensity. The old bed creaks and groans beneath you, the wooden frame beginning to splinter as Wanda's super soldier strength becomes too much for it to handle. You can feel her powerful muscles rippling beneath her skin as she continues to pound into you.

You wrapped her tightly in your embrace, and she can feel your nails raking down her back, leaving trails of burning pleasure. Your legs squeeze around her waist, pulling her impossibly deeper as she grinds her hips into yours, refusing to spare you even a moment of reprieve.

"Oh, Wanda!" you cried against her ear. "Yes, yes!"

"I'll fill you up, detka." She whimpers, her movements become erratic, her thrusts growing wild and desperate as she chases her own climax. She buries her face in your neck, muffling her screams of ecstasy as she hits her peak. As Wanda's orgasm subsides, you can feel her loads pumping deep inside you, filling your pussy to the brim with her thick, hot cum.

She slid out of you that made you whimper at the feeling of being empty. She then reached your face, her fingers caressing your cheeks. Her lips parted as she removed the strands of your hair out of your face. Her gaze drops back to yours, her eyes searching yours for something she can't quite name.

"Wanda…stop looking at me like that." You whispered, your breath hot against her skin.

"Like what?" she asked softly.

"Like I'm real…"

Wanda's heart shatters at your words, the illusion of connection and warmth shattering like glass. She pulls away from you, her expression crumbling into a mask of cold.

It all happened. You escape Wanda and bring her to the safety of your home, the two of you escaping again, her making you wear her boots, the walk in the forest. The kiss, the touch, and everything that just happened couple of seconds passed.

It all happened, before you died after being found by HYDRA.

Now, you are nothing more than a figment of HYDRA's creation, they used your last remaining memories to manipulate and control Wanda.

And she is back in the cold, sterile reality of the lab, the illusion of your presence and the gentle touches fading away like a dream. She is sitting, encased in a glass with thick metal bands wrapped tightly around her body, pinning her arms to her sides.

Suddenly, a voice crackled to life that made Wanda's powers surge through her body like electricity. The metal bands creak and groan under immense pressure as Wanda's fury mounts.

"Sem" (Seven)

"Solus" (Solus)

"Pulya" (Bullet)

"Neudacha" (Failure)

"Khaos" (Chaos)

"Gore" (Grief)

"Y/N"

Wanda stands amidst the ruins of the machine, her chest heaving. The broken circuitry sparks weakly, casting eerie shadows on her battered form.

"Soldat." (Soldier) Strucker called onto Wanda, who is now standing in front of him with dead, empty eyes.

"Ya gotov otvechat." (Ready to comply)

[sunniskyies]

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 || 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐞-𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Reader forgets she has Ford’s mind reading device on… 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ford Pines x fem!shy!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: - 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Makeout, fluffy shy stuff 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k 𝐀/𝐍: This is so so so out of my league with this kind of thing, but I had a vision and had to try, so forgive me if it’s not the best !! ( you can read this as young or old Ford by the way ! )

“Are you going to tell me what exactly that is?” You ask shyly, perched neatly on a wooden stool in the deepest room of Ford’s laboratory. The man in question is bustling around the benches, plugging in wires and fiddling with dials and buttons.

“It’s a mental-strengthening device, able to encrypt one’s thoughts to prevent dream demons like Bill Cipher from entering.”

You purse your lips. “Ah. Of course.”

Ford looks briefly over at you while he tinkers. “I don’t want any chance of that creature making his way into our world. The damage he causes is… irrevocable.”

You fall silent, quietly studying the scientist’s practised hands and that little furrow in his brow you doubt he’s aware of. You see it often, in your stolen glances as you set his coffee down in the mornings, or when his eyes linger for a moment on his work when you call for his attention.

You let yourself sit in the warm feeling that spreads through your skin, toying with the fantasy of him for just a moment. Before you know it, Ford is approaching you with a gadget in his hands, and you’re pushing those silly thoughts from your mind.

“This is the receiver,” Ford explains, gesturing to the sieve-like helmet in his hands. “May I put it on you?”

All you manage is a ‘mhm’, and you hope your ears aren’t bright red when Ford places the bronze contraption over your hair. As he adjusts it here and there his fingers often brush your skin, you’re mortified as goosebumps shiver over your skin. Luckily, from what you know about Stanford Pines, he isn’t the most observant man unless you happen to have three eyes or an off-on switch.

Being Ford’s assistant has been the best opportunity of your life, but childishly you often wish for something more. To see those lips say your name not just to thank you for your helping hands. To have the confidence to show Ford the book of research you’ve been privately gathering, his eyes catching yours as he realises the potential he’d never seen in you before…

For the millionth time reality pulls you from your daydreams. Ford crouches down slightly, your faces level, your eyes on his while his are at your hairline. A six-fingered hand gently tucks loose strands back from your face.

“There,” he says, eyes catching yours. “Equipped. How does that feel?”

You swallow, voice a tad too squeaky, “All good!” 

“Perfect. I’ll begin the calibration, inform me if you experience any discomfort,” he nods, satisfied, before sweeping away again.

As you wait, you silently tap on your knees, looking around. You look over the table behind you to see a television screen with—

Your thoughts.

A string of your most embarrassing ideas visualised on a ceiling-high collection of screens, unarguably clingy and desperate desires paired with Ford’s name scrolling everywhere.

You whip your gaze over to Ford, dew already appearing over your skin. He seems to be engrossed in whatever's in his hands, but it’s only a matter of time before he sees all… that!

Fuck, fuck, fuck! The screens mirror the chant in your mind.

You try vainly to think of other things, random words and imagery slowly but surely creeping onto the televisions. Polar Bears. Adjectives. Pencils, pens, markers. Dates and historical impact of various civil wars. Charity raffles. That one catchy jingle. Discombobulation. Ambystoma mexicanum.

Ford looks up. “Finished!” He says with a quick smile.

You quietly clear your throat. “Uhm. Wow! This is very clever, Ford, although I must admit didn’t realise it displayed the user's consciousness?”

His eyebrows raise at your question, before his face softly twists with confusion as he stares at the reading. He glances back over at you with the face of someone just realising how stupid something is. Yet, you almost slump with relief. At least he only thinks you're simple, not a freak.

“Well, yes, it does. Did I not mention that?” He says slowly. “I was going to suggest you exercise your brain to ensure the program reaches every aspect of your cognition… but it seems you’re… already… doing that?” He questions hesitantly. Your smile is too-bright.

“Oh, yes, that is what I am doing. Yep.” You squeak.

“Right.”

The silence is palpable, a thick sludge that clings to your form. Sometimes both your wandering stares slide over each other, awkward blips before you both avert eye contact. You hear the hum of machinery, the soft tap of your shoe on the floor. Your fingers itch to grab your journal from your pocket to give yourself something to do with your hands, but you’re embarrassed at what Ford would see as you ponder over it. The silence stretches on and on, until you can’t bear not to break it.

“So, you, uhm, said something about exercising the mind?” You blurt sheepishly.

Ford’s eyes are immediately on you. “Yes! Yes, just try to keep your mind active, it helps the protection process.”

And the silence is back. Perhaps even worse than before.

Desperate for relief, you pull your journal from your pocket. You wave it weakly, “Mind if I do some work?”

Ford adjusts his glasses. “No, no of course not. Go ahead.” He gestures at the various desks stationed around the room. You shoot him a quick smile and spin on your stool to the table next to you, propping open the journal and continuing an essay you plan to submit as a paper in your current university course.

This works, taking your mind off your vulnerability as you focus on your work. This is what you love about science, about academia, the ability to lose yourself in something so complex, so worthwhile. You really can’t wait to get your research out there and make a name for yourself.

You write for a while, pen often times balanced between teeth. You don’t quite register Ford coming up behind you until his tilted head is in your peripheral.

“Fantastic,” he mutters absently, his face well and truly absorbed on the open page. Embarrassed, you half-heartedly cover the page with your hands.

“Oh, no, it’s really not anything special.” You mumble, eyes averted. 

“No, really, I love it. You’re studying quantum physics, right?” He insists, head tilted trying to catch his eye. When you do, he has a soft smile painted on. Your cheeks glow pink.

“Yes, I major in quantum physics and forensic science. I minor in biomedical engineering, and I’m additionally doing an online paper on parapsychology with the only university that does it, in, uh, Finland.” The sparkle in Ford’s eyes grows as you timidly recite your areas of study.

“Parapsychology? That’s brilliant!” He remarked, awed. “Why didn’t you say that, I would love to take you out on my field days. I study all sorts of paranormal and supernatural activity here. It'd be great to share it with someone.”

“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you,” you say hushed, fending off a stammer. Internally, your heart is soaring. Yes yes yes!

“It’d be no trouble,” he says earnestly, soft features returned as if coaxing you out of your shell. “I knew you were smart, but I had no idea the extent,’ he says, almost to himself.

Your eyes lock on him immediately. “You think that?”

He seems surprised. “Of course I do. You’re an exceptional assistant, and you’ve been in study for ages. I’ve heard nothing less than great things about when I send my own work to our local university. Not many scholars live out here, you know?”

You can’t drag your eyes away from him, and you're sure Ford can see every star in the galaxy swirling in your pupils right now. This is everything, everything you’ve wanted.

You’re not sure whether it’s the surge of confidence, or the way Ford’s looking so gently at you, but you’re acutely aware of how low Ford has bent down to talk to you. It would only take a small movement to bring your faces together.

And so, heart fluttering with this moment of bravery, you rise slightly up on the balls of your feet and press a small kiss to Ford’s cheek.

“Thank you,” you breathe, the sensation in your chest borderline sickening. “It, uh, means a lot.”

Ford doesn’t say a word, eyes wide but painfully unreadable. The silence is once again, stifling.

“Not a lot of fellow scientists in this area, like you said,” You hastily ramble on after a long moment. The gap doesn’t last this time, though.

In a swift motion Ford’s hand is at your cheek. You barely have time to inhale before his lips are on yours, their warmth sinking against your mouth.

You’d never imagined them to be so firm, although his proximity doesn’t give your mind any room to think about anything. It’s all happening so fast, your mind dizzied as you reciprocate his intentful kisses.

Your pen clatters slightly on the table as your hand releases it, quickly gripping to Ford as his arms snake around you and lift you up. He spins, setting you on the table in the middle of the room. You’re sure at some point you have or will let slip an embarrassing sound, but you’re wholly focused on Ford and how you’re sitting at his level on the tall table; him standing before you with his hands at your waist. Your knees brush either side of his thighs.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, his hands in turn pull you closer. It’s eager and messy, making your pulse thud wildly. You never thought a man would want you like this, never catching an eye. Let alone the genius that is—

Abruptly, his lips leave yours, the emptiness not lasting long as they move just beneath your lip, then down to your jaw. They trail down to the side of your neck, lips brushing over the shiver on your skin. Small breaths leave your mouth when you feel a glimmer of teeth against your collarbone.

You tilt your head, resting against his where he’s kissing your shoulder in the crook of your neck. Your hands remain tangled in his hair, your eyes closed.

Your bodies are so close together, his lips are all-consuming. It’s bliss. The man you’ve loved for so long, holding you like he’s besotted. Like he’s just as infatuated as you. The thought thrills through your mind; He wants me.

“I can assure you, I most certainly do,” Ford murmurs breathlessly against your skin. You pause, the statement uncannily sounding like a response to your thought…

Oh. Oh no.

The machine. The mind reading. The television directly behind your back.

You haltingly turn your head, face pale. The screen is, in fact, still reciting your thoughts. Every thought. And Ford’s facing it.

“Oh my god,” You groan, palming your forehead. You sink into yourself, drowning in humiliation. But Ford’s hand fishes beneath your chin, tipping your glowing face to look at him. His face is one of endless kindness beneath his mussed hair.

“It’s really not a bad thing, sweetness.” He says gently. You shake your head slightly, eyes squeezing shut.

His thumb creeps up the side of your face, face dipping level to yours. “No, seriously. It’s a very encouraging thing for a man to see.” He jokes warmly. You peek an eye open. Heavens, did he have to look so irresistibly handsome all the time?

“Should I, uhm, remove…” you gesture at the contraption atop your head, teeth worrying your lip.

Ford hesitates for a moment, thinking as his thumb strokes your cheek. “No. No, it’s too important. I can’t have Bill infiltrating your mind.” 

You wilt slightly, but Ford once again brings you back to him. “It’ll only take a moment. Half an hour at most.” His eyes flicker fleetingly at your lips. “And besides, it’ll be sunset by then. I hear you can see a meteor shower tonight? If you drive up the hill a little.”

You hum a soft confirmation, smile melting onto your flushed features as Ford presses a last kiss to your cheek. “Good,” He murmurs. “I’ll go fetch the coats.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @sleeplessdreamer14 @2hiigh2cry @taffycandyqt @papi-machucha @muffin1304

 @space1crow @fries11 @yasuuuudere @shadowsandswords @darling-eos

@bloodspatteredprincess @snake-in-a-flower-crown @defmxl @ryanthatsgay2

© sunniskyies 2024, do not repost or translate my work

[letoasai]

Will work for food ~ Part 4 (1/2)

Part 3 -- Master List

Danny’s hubris was coming back to bite him. It had been so funny when Nightwing–Dick–had invited him to the next family dinner. The next family dinner that happened to be Thanksgiving. Danny hadn’t had a Thanksgiving in a long, long time. He’d been delighted to accept. 

He’d nearly trilled in amusement at the way Tim flushed, kicking Dick under the table in a small attempt to get him to stop talking but the invitation had already been given. 

Danny could practically taste Dick’s glee and Tim’s embarrassment. Emotions weren’t as good as regular food but they were hard to ignore when they grew to a certain level. 

Tim had awkwardly agreed that Danny should come to dinner and Danny accepted, telling Tim to just summon him the usual way. 

It was almost unfair for him to have so much quiet knowledge surrounding their conversations, but it came in handy for the normally closed off vigilantes. Tim knew his family was a lot, and was afraid of overwhelming Danny. Their time together would have to be shared now, but Danny didn’t think that was necessarily true. Tim didn’t want to put Danny on the spot, which was kind.

Tim had always been kind. He didn’t summon Danny for favors or deals but because he could and because he cared. The emotion was so straight forward and genuine that Danny knew he was being rather selfish with it. It had been so long since he had someone new, and living, in his life. 

He lived a long life, and he would just live longer. As a halfa, and a powerful one at that, his life tap danced a precarious line. His living half would always mirror his dead half, and it had taken him some years to work out that his Phantom form could change based on his perception of himself. 

He’d spent so long thinking he might never age, that he’d stayed small for years. Barely looking older than fourteen as he’d headed for his twentieth birthday. It was then he discovered that with enough practice he could alter his Phantom hazmat suit. It was redesigned, changing as he had. He’d mentally grown over the years, his title of King only adding to his development. 

When he changed his ghostly appearance, he realized he could age to match how he felt. He could finally look like the young adult he was. That had had side effects on his living half. The growth spurts had been nearly painful, but within six months he’d change from a young teen to a young adult. 

It had been exciting, but excruciating enough that he hadn’t wanted to change his appearance so abruptly again. Changes would be slower next time, but he was unsure if he could go backwards in his living appearance.

All the same, at least he looked more like an adult. He could live as much as he was able. 

His identity reveal with his parents hadn’t exactly gone badly, but it hadn’t gone well either. Jack and Maddie had tried to accept him, but they simply couldn’t. They couldn’t look at him, and while he didn’t end up on their laboratory table, they simply pretended he didn’t exist. It hurt at the time, but he still had his sister. He had Sam and Tucker and Ellie and Val. 

Danny had moved out and for several years had pretended to be normal. It had been nice, until it had gotten boring. Danny split his time between the living and the dead, taking his role as king more seriously in the Infinite Realm over time. It got harder for him to return as his friends aged and he stayed the same. Ellie understood better how he felt, but her wanderlust kept her moving. 

He checked in often over the years, but he’d still be both delighted, and devastated the day Jazz strolled into his lair with a smile and a hello. She looked younger than she’d been in decades and Danny had clung to her and sobbed. She was here! Safe! It was wonderful. She was dead. Jazz had been old and had left behind children and grandchildren. That didn't make it easier on either of them, but they had each other.

Tucker had been next and he was torn between just hanging out in the Infinite Realm or being reincarnated again. For ages, he and Danny had just hung out and caught up, right back to being the best of friends. 

Val had followed some years later, but she had been preparing for this more than the rest of them. Her ghostly form had returned to her the Red Huntress moniker and she couldn’t be more thrilled. She wasted no time traveling with Ellie. 

Sam was the one Danny hadn’t yet been reunited with in the Infinite Realm. She was pushing a hundred, and had become the reigning ‘grandma Ida�� figure in the lives of her grandchildren and great grandchildren. Danny envied her for that. She was so supportive when their parents hadn’t been for them. 

Danny drifted off in his thoughts as he pondered his next dinner date. He was excited for a home cooked meal, but he was quietly thrilled to spend more time with Tim. He’d been neglecting a part of himself since Jazz had died and it showed. His sister was terribly excited he’d made a new friend after so long. 

When he felt the pull of a summons, Danny listened carefully, relieved to hear Tim’s voice. He’d been getting anxious just waiting around and the day had finally come. He pulled himself from the portal, turning from Phantom to Danny and tugging nervously at his sweater. He didn’t really have many nice or formal human clothes since everything in the Infinite Realm was often done in his royal regalia. 

He’d tried to look nice though. Dora had braided his hair for him in some intricate pattern and his normal NASA hoodie had been traded out for a new black hoodie gifted to him by Sam. It was over top a navy blue sweater. He probably didn’t need both but he liked to have the option of a hood. 

He wore his nicer pair of jeans and sneakers too. Honestly, if he was going to be spending time in a living dimension again, he was going to need to go shopping. 

Danny opted to appear just outside the structure he was summoned from. It felt more polite somehow to knock on the manor’s door. Sam would have loved this place. 

It only took seconds but Tim pulled the door open swiftly, he was nearly out of breath but he smiled bashfully when he greeted Danny. 

“Hey Danny.” 

“Hey,” Danny said with an awkward smile. “Thought i’d..uh, politely knock?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. He somewhat noticed that his normal clothes weren't hanging off him the way they had been. At least he’d been putting on a little weight having lunches with Tim.

Tim returned his smile and gestured for him to come in. “And it was thoughtful.” 

Tim looked nice, the way he always did. His button down looked brand new and someone had obviously ironed his pants and he didn’t wear shoes, just dark socks. It was the kind of casual touch that proved he lived there. 

“I’m sorry.” Danny muttered, voice his usual low cadence. He didn’t like using his aura or ‘kingly voice’ around people when he didn’t have to. He had nothing to prove. “I know it’s a holiday but i don’t really have much in the way of living human clothes anymore.” 

“Hey. No.” Tim said immediately, head whipping around to look at Danny again. “Absolutely no one in this house is worried about that. If you are, i have an entire closet you can pick through to find something else but it’s not necessary. The only thing we requested was you. You look great.” 

Danny rubbed his arm and despite his unease, smiled. It was almost funny the way Tim tracked the movement with his eyes. His feelings on the matter were genuine. Danny’s attire didn’t matter to him. “If you’re sure. I didn’t want to come off as ungrateful when you’ve invited me into your home.” 

“Impossible.” Tim said, stepping further inside with Danny beside him. “I assure you, once the pictures have been taken, everyone will be throwing the dress clothes to the side.” 

“Pictures?” 

“Master Timothy.” An older man was approaching from the dining room. “I trust you haven’t been rude to our guest.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Alfred.” Tim smiled, entering into some kind of familiar song and dance. “He usually likes to keep his outer jacket so i didn’t ask to take it to hang up for him." 

It made Danny smile when he’d connected the pieces. He’d heard a few stories about Alfred over the last few months. Most of them from Tim himself but Dick had happily told a couple. The man took his job very seriously. It almost reminded him of Fright Knight. 

“Um..” Danny mumbled, sounding like he didn’t know where to start. Did he introduce himself? He’d gotten better at these kinds of things when ghosts were involved. The living almost baffled him now. 

Tim took over. “Danny his is Alfred, technically he’s the butler and caretaker of Wayne Manor, but his real job is caretaker and grandfather to every brat that lives here who doesn’t deserve him.” 

That had the corners of Danny’s lips tipping up even as Alfred quirked a brow at the rather bold comment. 

“Alfred, this is my friend Danny. This will be his first Thanksgiving in many years.” 

Alfred offered a polite bow, a bend at his waist that looked beautifully formal. “We’re so pleased you could join us, Your Majesty.” 

“Oh no. Danny. Danny’s fine.” He didn’t miss the way Tim raised a brow, but Danny wasn’t surprised. It might have been the first time Tim had seen Danny anything close to flustered. “The Majesty thing is kind of stuffy and this is your home that i was invited into.” 

“If you insist, Master Daniel. I hope you have come hungry.” 

Danny knew his smile was weak. “Starving. Tim and Dick both promised this would be the meal of my life. Unlife?” He shook his head and cleared his throat. “And if you don’t mind, i have a little trauma with the name Daniel. I’d really prefer Danny or Phantom if you’d rather.” 

Tim’s eyes narrowed briefly and Danny knew he was already organizing dozens of questions. Now however, wasn’t the time to ask them. That didn’t mean he wasn’t making several mental notes. 

Alfred also also caught the quiver in his tone and didn’t press the matter if the shift in his emotions were anything to go off of. “Master Danny is it.” Alfred continued seamlessly, voice pleasant. “We’re truly happy to have you. I have been asking about your attendance at dinner for some time.” 

Tim sighed loudly, a touch more dramatic than usual but Danny was happy to see Tim someplace he could be so informal. “Okay, that was my bad. I was having fun going out with you and any dinner here you attended would suddenly be a family dinner.” 

“Everyone is curious?” Danny assumed. 

“Incredibly.” 

“Now Master Timothy, it is impolite to keep your guest hovering around the door. Dinner is nearly ready.” Alfred said. “Please be the proper host.” 

“Yes, Alfred.” 

Danny fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie briefly. “I’d…offer to help but i’m a disaster in the kitchen. At least i was. I’m also afraid of reanimating food during the cooking process so i think i’ll stay well out of the way.” 

Alfred looked faintly surprised but he focused on the first part of the sentence. “It was still very kind of you to offer. I have everything well in hand.” 

Tim turned to look at Danny. “I know you’ve explained this to me before, but it’s crazy that you had to fight your food.” Saying that Danny had ‘explained’ that was over stating things, and they both knew it. Danny had said the only foods he didn’t like were the ones that bit back and Tim had taken him at his word. 

“It can be a problem.” Danny mused. He’d always been useless in the kitchen but after he’d moved out of his parents home, it became a chore he didn’t care for. His ectoplasm was so strong and it was bound to affect his environment over time. “You know, that might be why i stopped bothering to eat for a while. It’s not instantaneous or anything but long term exposure around me would reanimate whatever’s in the fridge.”

“Well, that’s one mystery solved.” Tim said, linking his arms with Danny’s to lead him to one of the more casual livingrooms at Alfred’s insistence. 

“Maybe?” Danny offered, distracted by looking around the manor. It was like a blast to his past only more. It was greater than the house Sam had grown up in, and far more tasteful than anything Vlad had. 

It was downright artistic. He’d seen enough ghostly lairs to see old mixing in with modern. The Wayne manor was stunning. 

The manor was equal parts old glamour and modern relic that was lovingly cared for by the occupants that lived there. The brilliant chandeliers and the beautifully carved staircase were more than simply eye-catching. The artwork was actually pleasing.

“You okay?” Tim asked quietly, biting at his lip worriedly. He was anxious as if afraid something about the manor had upset him. His phone was in his hand and Danny could tell he was texting one handed. Tucker could do similar feats. 

“I’m fine. I was looking at the pictures.” He nodded his head to where many framed photographs were displayed.  

“We’re glad you liked them!” Dick all but materialized by their sides and Danny couldn’t help but laugh. He was so light on his feet. “Tim took those!” 

Danny’s brows shot up in surprise. “Really?” 

Dick hummed his affirmative. “Yep, he’s a for real photographer.” 

Tim’s ears went pink. “It’s just a hobby.” 

Danny wandered closer to one of the frames, pulling Tim along with him by their linked arms. He smiled at the aerial view of Gotham. It was beautiful. “You have a lot of talent.” 

“Uh, yes. Thanks.” Tim muttered, throwing a scowl at his older brother who grinned, completely unrepentant. Not for the first time, Danny was reminded of Ellie whenever Dick was around. He cared so deeply, but that didn’t stop him from being a mischievous little imp. 

“I’d love to see more.” Danny said. “After dinner maybe?”

There was a light to Tim’s eyes at the notion. Danny wondered if it was less a hobby and something a little closer to a living obsession. Those were probably good to nurture. “If you want. Bruce has hung up a bunch of them but i have, you know, a portfolio.” 

“I’d love to see.” Danny repeated quietly. 

Dick glanced between them, his own mirth so obvious that Danny didn’t need empathy to feel it. “C’mon you two. It won’t be long before dinner’s ready and we still need to take the customary pictures.” 

“Pictures?” Danny repeated, realizing that Tim hadn’t answered him before. 

Tim nodded and gestured for Danny to follow him and Dick. “Thanksgiving is technically in two days, but we’ll be out patrolling then so we celebrate early.” 

“Our family’s kind of well known though.” Dick offered. 

Danny snorted. “The joys of a double life.” 

“Exactly.” Tim said. “We’ll take pictures tonight and each of us will post a couple on the right day to give ourselves alibi’s. It’s fairly simple.” 

Danny would have loved to have had the luxury back in the day. It was hard living with some of your biggest critics. “How much of your family will be coming?” 

“Most of it.” Dick said. 

“Probably.” Tim echoed, still looking a little worried about how the evening would go. Danny had seen many of Tim’s siblings and met a few of them. He wasn’t really worried, but was charmed that Tim was. 

Tim wanted the dinner to go seamlessly. Danny hoped he could help that along without his Fenton luck getting in the way.

[andy-15-07]

Infinite Horizons

PAIRING: Reed Richards x reader

WORD COUNT: 1159 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The Baxter Building hummed with the quiet energy of invention. Fluorescent lights cast a cool glow over the laboratory, where papers, holograms, and whiteboards filled with intricate equations surrounded a single figure.

Reed Richards stood before a towering chalkboard, writing with swift, precise strokes, his mind working at a speed no ordinary person could match. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing forearms dusted with chalk. His dark curls were slightly tousled, and his eyes burned with concentration as he scrawled symbols in a methodical yet fluid rhythm.

You leaned against the doorway, watching him. Admiring him.

There was something about seeing his mind at work that left you breathless. The way his brow furrowed, the way he whispered numbers under his breath, the way his fingers absentmindedly tapped against his chin when he hit a snag in his calculations—it was mesmerizing.

And he hadn’t even noticed you yet.

Smirking, you finally spoke. “You know, Reed, most people don’t spend their Friday nights romancing a chalkboard.”

His hand stilled mid-equation. He turned, his sharp eyes softening the moment they landed on you. “Y/N,” he said, and just like that, the tension in his shoulders eased. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

You stepped forward, arms crossed, head tilted in playful scrutiny. “You were too busy proving the meaning of the universe to notice, Professor Richards.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not quite. Just solving a little problem in quantum instability.”

You raised a brow. “A little problem?”

He turned back to the board and gestured at the dizzying array of symbols. “I’m attempting to stabilize the quantum field distortions in our multiversal gate. Right now, the energy fluctuations are unpredictable. If I can refine the equation, I might be able to prevent spontaneous breaches.”

You stared at the equations, pretending to consider them seriously. “Mmm, yes. Of course. Looks like... numbers.”

Reed laughed—a warm, low sound that made your heart flutter.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured, his fingers brushing over your wrist as he pulled you closer.

“And yet, here you are, madly in love with me,” you teased.

His lips quirked. “Madly.”

Your heart did an embarrassingly giddy flip, but you disguised it with another playful remark. “So, what happens if you don’t solve this equation?”

Reed sighed, running a hand through his curls. “Worst case scenario? Unstable dimensional rifts. Possibly reality imploding. Best case scenario? I get a headache and need coffee.”

You gasped dramatically. “A headache? We’re doomed.”

His eyes twinkled. “Not if you stay here and keep distracting me.”

You smirked but didn’t move away. Instead, you stepped behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his back. You felt him exhale, his muscles relaxing under your touch.

“Your brain is my favorite thing,” you murmured. “Well, one of my favorite things.”

His hand covered yours, fingers lacing together. “That’s comforting.”

“What’s the other worst-case scenario?” you asked, tracing lazy circles on the fabric of his shirt.

Reed hesitated, then sighed. “The math isn’t adding up. If I don’t find the missing variable, I can’t stabilize the distortions. Which means—”

“—which means no experimental travel through the multiverse anytime soon,” you finished.

He turned in your arms, facing you fully. “Exactly.”

You studied him for a long moment. “How long have you been at this?”

His silence was telling.

You groaned. “Reed. Have you even eaten today?”

He pressed his lips together in thought. “I had coffee.”

You placed your hands on your hips. “That’s not food.”

He exhaled through his nose, amused. “I was in the zone.”

“You always say that.”

“And it’s always true.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand. “Come on, genius. You’re taking a break.”

He resisted for half a second before relenting. “Fine,” he murmured. “But only because you’re bossy.”

You smirked. “And because you love me.”

He squeezed your hand. “That too.”

You sat cross-legged on the couch in the lounge, watching Reed as he leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee. The kitchen was bathed in warm, golden light, making him look impossibly soft despite the sharpness of his intellect.

“So,” you started, “what’s the missing variable?”

Reed sighed, rubbing his forehead. “That’s the problem—I don’t know. The math should work, but there’s a fluctuation that keeps throwing it off.”

You tapped your chin. “Couldn’t it be an external factor? Something you haven’t accounted for yet?”

He hummed in thought. “Possibly.”

“Have you considered... I don’t know, the energy signature of whoever’s opening the breaches? Maybe the anomaly isn’t in the math but in the source itself.”

Reed’s eyes widened slightly. “You might be onto something.”

You grinned. “Of course I am. I’m brilliant.”

He smirked, setting his mug down before walking over and placing his hands on either side of your head, trapping you in. “You are. And now, I’m going to need your help.”

Your brows lifted. “My help? In quantum physics?”

Reed grinned. “I need a second set of eyes. Even if they’re skeptical ones.”

You sighed dramatically. “I suppose I could lend my expertise.”

He chuckled and kissed your forehead. “Then let’s get back to work.”

Hours passed as you sat together in the lab, Reed scribbling equations while you sat beside him, offering insights where you could. It was a strange dance—you weren’t a scientist, but Reed valued your perspective. He thrived on discussion, on the challenge of explaining concepts in ways you could understand.

And you? You just loved watching him work. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, Reed froze.

Your head shot up from where you’d been resting it on your hand. “What? What is it?”

His eyes flickered with realization. “You were right.”

You blinked. “Obviously. But about what?”

He grabbed your shoulders, excitement radiating off him. “The anomaly wasn’t in the equation itself—it was an external force! If I adjust for the unique energy signature of the breaches, the entire system stabilizes!”

You grinned. “I mean, I did suggest that hours ago.”

He shook his head, grinning. “You did. And I was too busy overcomplicating it to listen.”

You leaned closer, whispering, “Say it.

He narrowed his eyes. “Say what?"

“That I was right.”

He sighed dramatically. “Y/N was right.”

You smirked. “And?”

His lips twitched. “And Reed Richards was wrong.”

You gasped. “A historical moment. I need this on record.”

He kissed you before you could gloat further, his lips warm and insistent. You melted into him, savoring the quiet triumph in his touch. When he pulled away, his voice was soft.

“You’re my favorite variable.”

Your heart clenched in the best way. “And you’re my favorite genius.”

Reed exhaled, resting his forehead against yours. “Thank you for keeping me grounded.”

You smiled, fingers brushing through his curls. “And thank you for reaching for the stars.”

And in that moment, with the weight of the universe pressing against him, Reed Richards knew—no equation, no discovery, no multiverse could ever mean more than you.

[neo-nomatrix]

Best of Wives and Best of Women

Willy Wonka x reader

word count: 527

summary: Willy’s newest shop ends up a disaster, you have news that may cheer him up.

warnings: pregnancy, angsty

He promised you the world. From the moment you and Willy had met he had two missions. Start his successful chocolate business, and make you the happiest woman alive or dead. You knew he would fulfill both, when you locked your pinky with his you had put your full faith in him.

“It's failing, I'm a failure,” Willy had said to you unexpectedly one day. He took off his hat and pulled a glass from it, pouring himself a glass of clear liquid. one you hoped was just water.

“What are you talking about? Are you okay?” You ask him with a worried look.

“Okay?! Of course I am not okay! My business is failing, I failed you,” he lets out a breath, drinking from the glass quickly.

“You haven’t failed anyone, especially not me! So stop talking nonsense!” you sit up from your chair in disbelief.

“I don’t know what to do,” his eyes well and he takes off his coat.

“You don’t give up, that’s what. Besides, I think I have some good news that will help you.” You hold his hands and smile.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” He looks up at you.

You wipe his tears and blush. You take his hand and place it on your newly rounded stomach. You bite your lips nervously waiting for his response.

“You… you’re… no. no you- can’t,” he pulls away and shakes his head.

“I can’t? You’re not happy?” Your smile fades as you look down in shame.

“You are? We haven’t any money, any prospect, we barely have a home,” he raises his voice. his brows furrowed in anger? disappointment?

“We don’t need money, we have each other, our love. That’s enough,” You scoff.

“No it’s not! To raise a family you need far more than just love. If I can't even give you a good life, how will I give one to a child?”

“You do give me a good life, the best life. Because you are a good man. and we’ll figure it out. We always do. Things may seem grim now, but trust me Mr.Wonka, we will be world renowned by the time we have the babe,” You smile at him, not knowing if he believes you, or if you believe yourself.

“You pinky promised me didn’t you? The most sacred of all the promises,” you add.

“I did! I did indeed. And of course, I will keep that promise. For you, for our child,” His shoulders roll back, he stops slouching. His eyes light up and puts his hat back on.

You both smile wildly and he presses a kiss against your lips. He opens his travel laboratory and mixes his ingredients together. Taps the button engraved with a heart and your initials together. A small peony shaped chocolate rolls out of the conveyor belt.

“For you. Both of you,” he looks down at your stomach, “the kids first taste of our future.”

You take a bite of the chocolate flower and close your eyes.

“My favorite,” you trail off and smile.

“I love you. I’ll give you both the best life.”

“I’ll hold you to it, Mr.Wonka.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

I see him in the back of my mind, all the time.

This fic came to me in a dream, woke up crying.

You couldn’t help but feel abandoned, left behind to deal with the onslaught of emotions all by yourself as your eyes remained firmly on where Viktor once was before the arcane consumed him whole.

The war was over but the hollow feeling within your chest only grew stronger when seeing loved ones reunite in fits of hysterical tears and bone crushing embraces, the lump in your throat got worse as the ache in your heart had something missing, someone missing that made it beat faster than normal. There was nothing Viktor left behind of his existence besides from his cane that you kept tightly clutched within your hand, mimicking the way he’d love tap the ground with it, as though you were trying to prove to no one in particular who cared that he still exists.

Silent tears seemed to flow endlessly down your cheeks as you wandered through the hallways of the Academy, and yet you felt numb, cold like you were already long dead and didn’t know it just yet as even your fingers felt cold to the touch, but you didn’t know whether that was from the biting cold wind or something else entirely. You didn’t care either as your reason for caring and for loving every aspect of life was taken away from you, taking your beating heart with him as he did and you didn’t know whether to hate him or love him even harder for giving you the best moments of your life, memories that seemed to all play out before you as you entered the now empty laboratory.

You could still hear the laughter and the scolding echo as though the walls with complex equations scrawled upon them had harboured the essence of the people who once worked diligently to the point of physical exhaustion. Your throat clenched again you delved deeper into the lab with one place in mind like you were being pulled towards it by an unseen force; Viktor’s workbench that had now upon closer inspection had a fine layer of dust settling over it, something he would’ve never let happen despite the tendency to leave his things scattered everywhere he pleased but still become cutely annoyed when he couldn’t find them.

However there seemed to be one thing that the dust refused to touch, a broach. Your brows furrowed as you looked at it confused, what was a broach doing in a place like this? It looked like it was made a while back but yet had a polish to it that made it seemed like it was made only recently. You knew Viktor didn’t wear broaches so seeing such an item on his workbench specifically was leaving you more questions then answers, questions that were soon answered when you noticed a small note underneath it, scrawled with Viktor’s usual chicken scratch writing;

‘For my dearest muse, for I will always be with you, always - Viktor.’

You clutched the cane tighter now as the pain within your chest almost made you collapse on the floor. This broach was for you. Viktor made it for you and never had the chance to give it to you, or perhaps he was waiting for the right moment to do so, but fate decided to be cruel and change the trajectory of your life for the worst; the common con when you happened to fall in love with a scientist determined to make a change. You sighed unevenly as you reach for the broach, your fingers closing over the cold metal of it while gingerly lifting it off the workbench, holding it up to your face so that you could take in the details of Viktor’s most beautiful creation.

The broach had a decent weight to it, not too light where you could easily crush it within your hand, but not too hard where it was proven difficult in your hand for prolonged periods of time. It was beautifully done as on the front of the broach was a an intricate design of a mechanical Blue Jay bird. You ran your thumb across the bird to feel the engravings that made it beneath your finger tips. The bird began to glow a vibrant blue, making you jolt a little, and the broach opened up to show it’s insides to you as a soft melody began to play from some hidden component within the broach.

The moment the first notes of the soft melody hits your ears the tears that had stilled in you moment of curiosity began to fall once more, this was the song that you had told Viktor once upon a time ago was your favourite, and so for him to make you this broach with your favourite bird on the front and your beloved song on the inside, you’ve never felt more loved by a man such as him. Yet you couldn’t run to him and kiss him senseless, not anymore, which made the broach itself a reminder that even if he was long gone you were the last thing on his mind.

‘Oh Viktor.’ Your voice came out weak as a sob broke from your lips as memories resurfaced as the melody continued its tune just for you.

…

‘Viktor!’ You burst in the lab, making him jolt as he looked over at you with what he wanted to be conveyed as annoyance but came across as a cute pout in your eyes.

‘My dear how often must I tell you not to burst in here so abruptly and without warning, what if something went wrong and you had gotten hurt.’ Viktor scolds as you merely shrug and moved over to his side to look over his shoulder, trying to see what he was working on, only for him to move it slightly away from your line of sight.

‘We’re both alive aren’t we?’ You said sarcastically and Viktor sighs as a small smile graced his lips as his amber eyes looked back at you with the warmth you always use to being greeted with. ‘You truly fear nothing my love but the next time you pull sometime like that you’re banned from entering the lab for the rest of the week.’ He says warningly as he points his wielding tool at you to emphasise his point.

You leaned over to kiss his forehead. ‘Duly noted my love but can I see what you’re working on? Or is it a secret for me to find later?’ You then ask as you once again tried to see what he was making, and once again Viktor move it away from your curious eyes, making you pout once more as you looked at him pleadingly.

Viktor sighs, your curiosity was never ending and while he would indulge you on his creations, he couldn’t do so for this one. This broach was his most ambitious project thus far and it was a project he has dedicated to you a long time ago the moment you both sat at the docks, hearing a harmonious melody within the wind as you admitted that it was your favourite.

It was that moment where Viktor decided to make something that you could keep on your being forever and thus project blue jay broach was underway. He was halfway done with it, all he had to do was finished wielding some components on the inside that would play the melody the moment the broach was opened, then he would move onto engraving the blue jay on the front as a final touch to a months long work in progress. ‘Practice your patience and you shall find out what it is soon enough my muse.’ He says softly as he kisses the back of your hand.

‘Alright keeps your secrets, I’ll find out sooner or later.’ You said as you crossed your arms over your chest.

Viktor raised a playful brow. ‘Is that a threat or a promise my muse?’ He asks.

You shrugged your shoulders. ‘Why not both.’ You said and Viktor laughs which makes you smile in response, feeling your chest warm as you looked at him, vowing to treasure this beautiful man for the rest of your life.

…

‘I know it’s not much but I wanted to make you something…I know it’s not the best but-‘

‘I love it my muse.’ Viktor starts as he takes the gift off of your hand, cradling it within his own as he looked over the amateur wielding and more so at the love and effort you’ve put into making this just for him.

You looked between him and the bird that you’ve made for him on a whim one day, wanting to repay him for loving you as he did in a way he’d recognise, even if you weren’t familiar with it you’d give it a try just to see him smile that gorgeous smile of his that made his amber eyes seem to brighten.

‘Really? You mean that?’ You asked and Viktor brushed his hand against your arm softly, stopping to hold your hand and squeeze it reassuringly.

‘Unequivocally my love. It possess a uniqueness that is undoubtedly yours and yours alone.’ He replies while pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

‘That’s a poetic way of saying that it’s made by an amateur who can barely wield shit without almost hurting themselves.’ You muttered under your breath as you rested your head against his shoulder. Viktor chuckles as he puts aside the mechanical bird on his workbench in order to hold you against him as he rests his head atop of yours.

‘If it’s any consolation it’s a well made creation for an amateur wielder.’ He says, smiling to himself when he hears you muffled groan. He wishes to stay like this forever if he could, just have you in his arms for all of eternity until that eternity fades to nothing, and it was just you two locked in the moment in the blanket of never ending darkness.

‘I hate you.’ You say.

‘I love you too my muse.’ Viktor replies as he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

…

‘Viktor?’ You asked.

‘Yes my love?’ He replies, looking at you.

‘Do you think we’re together in every universe?’ You then looked at him, finding him more beautiful than any star that hung in the sky before you.

Viktor makes a face full of thought before letting his hand find yours, squeezing it as he presses a kiss to the back of it. ‘Of course my love, for what would I be without you to be my muse, my confidant and my anchor.’ His face then becomes one of seriousness as he leans so that his forehead touches yours. ‘Do you believe that we’re together in every universe?’

‘Without a doubt.’ You answered back, kissing his lips. ‘I don’t think I could live in a reality where you don’t exist my beautiful Viktor.’ You add as you started deeply into his amber eyes, watching them soften in relief as Viktor reciprocated your kiss with one of his own.

‘What a coincidence I was thinking the exact same thing my muse.’ Viktor whispers softly to you as he kisses you once more. You held the back of his head to keep him close as the stars watched you both display your love for one another in the most innocent way possible.

…

Mel wondered down the hallway but as she was about to pass the lab, she heard the soft melody coming from it and stopped to peek through the open doorway. Sat fast asleep on Viktor’s chair, body splayed uncomfortably across his dust covered workbench, was you and she couldn’t help but smile sympathetically for you, after all you had just lost the love of your life before your very eyes and with no plausible way of getting him back.

What was making the melody Mel did find as her eyes landed on the open broach within your hand, Viktor’s final gift to you as it hummed the melody for the fifth time. It was a beautiful song Mel thought to herself as she moved next to you, resting her hand over your shoulder as she heard you softly mutter in your sleep. ‘I’m sorry Viktor. I love you.’

‘I know he loves you too.’ Mel replied as she reached over and closed the broach in your hand, seeing the mechanical engraving on the cover as she did so before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, wanting nothing more then let you sleep and be with Viktor in the land of dreams as she moved to walk back out the door. Mel looks back at you once more and in a moment of nostalgia overcame her she saw Viktor sleeping in that very chair instead of you. He was clutching his cane the same way you did and in that moment it looked as though your hands were touching; together intertwined in the smallest of things.

Viktor would always be with you, always.

[melinoelabs]

Dear Sirs.

SCP-682's powers are metatextual. He's unkillable because the story says he is nearly unkillable and no solution would be satisfying. His nickname is 'the very hard to destroy reptile' for rigour's sake. You don't have to be Grant Morrison to put this together.

The solution is to alter the narrative so that there is a means of killing him that is satisfying. Unfortunately, only full-on apocalypse scenarios or the use of SCP-682 as a jobber for an even worse threat would fill that criteria.

So unless you want to unleash something even more tiresome, like the Black Moon or the Scarlet King or the Yellow Submarine or whatever other color-coded doomsday monster you have on tap, you're just wasting jumpsuit filling doing anything at all.

The easy alternative is to simply stop trying to kill him.

Just focus on holding him in the most boring, routine ways possible, rendering him increasingly less interesting and thus reducing the time between stories focused on him and thus, the resulting breaches and disasters.

Or you can do what we did. If you aren't chicken.

Ours wasn't a rotted lizard. It was a sort of mummified horse the size of a 1996 Volkswagen Harlequin, and it was a she, but otherwise same deal. Regeneration. Vat of acid. Mass casualties. Violent opposition to the use of breath mints. Endemic to all life. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.

We figured out the how it worked, and we speed-ran the whole concept, hurling that vile beast through a veritable plinko-fall of thousands of extermination tests and controlled rampages until there was literally nothing left to do with the 'More-Than-One-Way-to-Fail-to-Kill-a Horse'.

And we trust the populace enough to not lie to them for 'their own good'. Because its funny? Sure. Profitable? Absolutely (don't worry, shareholders!)! But never for 'their own good.'

So we turned those experiments into a 17 season reality television program hosted by Greg Kinnear and force-fed them to a sludge-hungry populace.

There were 'More-Than-One-Way-to-Fail-to-Kill-a Horse' calendars, coffee mugs, t-shirts, two different animated spin-offs running at the same time for some reason, four movies starring Chris Pratt as the voice of the horse, an ongoing sketch on Late Night with Conan O'Brien, 'More-Than-One-Way-to-Fail-to-Kill-a Horse' "acid bath" sour candy flavored yogurt in a tube, a series of increasingly inadequately playtested gameboy cartridges, a 27-issue limited series from Image comics, and adorable plush mummified murder-horse plushes with little suction cups on their red-felt hooves so they can stare balefully out the back of your station wagon at that ASSHOLE Kevin in his souped up Trans AM who does not understand the concept of a safe following distance, and you JUST want to run him off the road with the magno-lifters and recreate the scene from Lost Highway with Robert Loggia, but "you can't use the magno-lifters for revenge" because it's "against OSHA regulations" and "technically assault!"

And once the first shipment of 'More-Than-One-Way-to-Fail-to-Kill-a Horse' Funko Pops hit store shelves, the creature's cultural cache cratered so hard that it became a parody of itself so predictable it's "containment" is now a Universal Studios attraction with two failed executions and a containment breach each night, with double shows on Saturdays.

Now, it was a rocky ride getting there, especially for Utah (projections say you'll get those House seats back in two, maybe three, generations at most, don't you worry!) but we've proven that even if it isn't killable, you can, in fact, beat a dead horse.

Hope this helps.

Humbert, Outreach Liaison Melinoë Laboratories "Hoc non veniet ad nos mordax"

[drdemonprince]

how do you get started as a new dom? it feels hard to be sure of yourself when you’re unsure of yourself

You really gotta get the theatrics of it all to work for you.

Use a blindfold. If your sub can't see where you are or what you're doing, their imagination will run wild and they'll find even the smallest touch or action from you to be vastly more exciting. And since they can't see you, you've bought yourself time to think, wander around, and plan your next move.

Use time and setting to your advantage. Be sensual and methodical in getting your sub handcuffed or tied up. Start with simple tools that you know how to use and have practiced with at home, and really draw out the process of getting the sub into position. If you're into impact rather than bondage, bend them over with a broad, warm palm on their back and trace the backs of their thighs. Don't move too quickly. This will hide a lot of your jitters and make everything more intense.

Don't be afraid to ask questions, check in, and remark at what works and what doesn't -- just do not do so in a self-deprecating way. If a command or a gesture just doesn't land in the way that you thought that it would, do not become crestfallen. That a Dom can instantly read their sub's every desire and reaction is just a fantasy. Think of yourself as a scientist who has a brand-new creature under observation. You may find that your sub adores tickling (or hates it), that a hot breath on their neck makes them squeal (or does nothing at all). Every specimen is unique and part of the pleasure is the exploration of their body and testing out their reactions. It's boring and unsexy to have a routine set of moves. Be responsive and curious rather than rote.

Find what you love about Dominance. Do you like fighting to subdue a bratty sub? Or do you prefer a docile good boy/girl/thing that will melt like butter under your touch? Are you handsy? Do you like controlling your sub's every movement, posing them like a doll? Or do you want to see yourself issuing commands and receiving service? Remember that your pleasure matters a great deal and will get the sub going, and orient a lot of your moves around that. Have your sub orally service you or make you a coffee or give you a massage. All kinky play is a negotiation between all parties' desires and limits. Make sure to inject yourself into what's happening -- and into your sub's behaviors and their frame of mind.

Don't worry too much about putting on a fake Dom voice or embodying a persona -- far too many newbie Doms think they need to speak in a deep and emotionless register and have everything figured out. It's far more alluring to be more human. Some people's Dominance looks like the way a proud cat mom talks to her pets. Other people are silly and playful like DeeDee from Dexter's Laboratory torturing her little brother. You can be a primal, snarling creature, a princess upon a throne, or a world-weary worker who takes out their daily frustrations on their living sex toy. Find what feels natural to you because then it will be easier to continue to embody your dominance as the situation evolves and unexpected things come up.

A note on finding partners: It can be difficult to find good submissive when you are an inexperienced Dom, because people understandably want to be placed into safe and competent hands. Try not to take this personally, and keep focusing on building up your skills, which you are entirely in control of. Take a class on shibari or impact. Get some toys. Visit a dungeon and ask questions. Befriend other Dominants and do some service to the broader community, so that you have people you can tap for advice and mentorship.

Once you have established yourself as a familiar face in the scene, then you can work on finding experienced subs who know what they like and can show you the ropes. Newbie Doms sometimes get intimidated by experienced subs, worrying that they cannot possibly match the intensity of those subs' prior sexual encounters-- but this is entirely the wrong way to look at it. Experienced subs know what they like and are experts at entering a submissive headspace. It will be easier to get them to respond to you than a completely unseasoned sub who's head is also not in the moment because they're filled with nerves. Working with someone who is older or more seasoned than you is not a threat to your Dominance. A new rider should start with a very well-trained horse, and doing so will help bolster the rider's confidence.

Have fun out there!

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - unhealthy relationships, mentions of gore/human experimentation, forced marriage. written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

Recently, all your mornings had started the same way: ten or so feet below the ground, buried under the satin sheets of an otherwise empty bed in a stone chamber decorated with all the love and tenderness of a hospital room, freshly cleaned after the death of its last occupant.

Blearily, you stumbled out of bed, grimacing at the feeling of the cold, rough floor against your bare feet. Temperatures in Snezhnaya rarely rose above freezing, and while your husband didn’t seem to mind the cold, you weren’t so resilient – shrugging on your heaviest robe before so much as opening your eyes. A mug of coffee was clumsily assembled in your minimalistic kitchenette (a feature you insisted on, after being forced to share a communal ice chest with one of his more dissection-focused segments), then a cup of tea; herbal and rich, a blend from Sumeru he had imported every few months. For as many years as you’d been with Zandik, you’d never been able to make sense of what he considered worth his time and what he disregarded as frivolous wastes of effort and mora. You supposed you could only be thankful you fell into the former group, lest your body be the next to adorn his vivisection table.

Once you’d managed to shake the chill and bring yourself to a state of near-consciousness, you stumbled out of your bedroom and into the corridor, ignoring the curious looks of young researchers and patrolling soldiers and shrugging open the steel door at the end of the hall. The smell of rot and preservatives hit you as soon as you stepped into Zandik’s personal laboratory, but your eyes only glazed over the dark puddles splattered across the floor, the amorphous mass covered with a white sheet and laid across a metal table before landing on your husband – slumped over his desk, his face buried in his arms and ink staining his fingertips, his left cheek. With a sigh, you made your way to his side, placing both mugs on the edge of his desk and resting your hands on his shoulders. Letting your eyes fall shut, you lowered yourself to his height, resting your lips against the top of his head and only pulling away when he began to stir.

He'd always been a light sleeper (in comparison to you, at least), and it’d never taken much to rouse him. You straightened your back and as if on cue, he bolted upward, gaze darting to the door, then his operation table, then you – where it would stay. A slight grin pulled at the corner of his lips as he pushed his chair away from his desk and tapped his leg, and without protest, you climbed into his lap; straddling his thighs and burying your face in the crook of his neck. One of his hands found its way to your hip while the other took to rubbing small, slow circles into your back. You waited for him to settle underneath you before breaking the silence. “I want to go home.”

Home, meaning the gothic, looming mansion you usually resided in when he wasn’t working out of one of the Fatui’s countless underground facilities or traveling abroad. It was also dark and drafty and a far cry from your previous home, the home he’d taken you away from the day he married you, but you’d been able to decorate it to your preferences and you didn’t need to go through ten of his soldiers just to step outside. He hummed, the sound passive and dismissive, and you frowned into his shoulder, nudging gently at his chest. “I’m serious, Zandik. Everything smells like blood and you haven’t come to bed in days. Being around all these chemicals is going to be the death of me – that is, if boredom doesn’t do the job first.”

Another hum, this one slightly more thoughtful. “You know I would pluck the stars from the sky for you,” he started, his voice still low and coarse with sleep. “But I am here on the Tsaritsa’s orders. Are you sure you’d have me test the good will of an archon for something so mundane?”

“Yes.” You’d seen him butcher orphans and burn villages to the ground. If he was still in his goddess’ good graces after so many centuries of relentless carnage, you were sure she wouldn’t mind a sudden relocation. “There’s nothing you do here that you couldn’t do in your own laboratory.” You thought for a moment, then added, “Unless you’ve decided that you love your archon more than you love me.”

His smile faltered, something possessive and pointed catching in his eyes. His grip on you tightened, but he recovered quickly, letting out an airy chuckle as he bowed his head and nuzzled mindlessly into the dip of your shoulder. “Two more weeks,” he promised. “Then, I’ll send you home – one way or another.”

“One more week.” You sat up, cupping his face and forcing him to meet your eyes. “Or I start spitting in your tea.”

“One more week if you start spitting in my tea.”

“You’re a vile, repugnant little man.” You leaned forward, kissing his cheek. “Deal.”

You spend the rest of that day lounging across the velvet-cushioned loveseat in the corner of his lab, skimming through your dozenth pulpy romance novel and watching your husband dismember corpses with a vigor you hadn’t seen since the first days of your marriage.

[bruhstories]

Muse III

p.1 && p.2

minors dni

summary: one way or another, the inevitable happens - circumstances force you to talk to viktor

pairing: viktor x painter!reader

warnings: some angst, swearing, super slow burn, p with plot?? unprotected p in v, kind of creampie, reader on top, fluff, comfort, afab!reader with she/her pronouns, some mentions of y/n (i think maybe once), canon divergent, bickering and banter

w/c: 6k...

a/n: there we go, the series is now complete! i do hope you all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! liking and reblogging are encouraged! thank you for being on this journey with me haha

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The constant ticking of the clock irked Viktor and he pinched the bridge of his nose. The downside of becoming a professor were the exams — sitting down, waiting, wasting hours was unproductive. He could've taught, could've researched, could've experimented with new elements. Instead, he was stuck in a classroom with a handful of students who looked like they were about to shit themselves.

And then there was you. In the back of the room, watching said students like a hawk, circling them like a predator, like you wanted to catch at least one of them cheating. He hadn't spoken to you since the academic year started — two months and two weeks, to be precise.

Viktor tapped his cane, impatiently counting the minutes until the exam was over. It felt like an eternity, watching the sand in the hourglass flowing ever so slowly. The thought of counting each particle of sand amused him. It probably would've been the most productive thing in the past hour.

The sudden noise of a book being dropped caught his attention. Viktor got up from his chair, but you were already at the source. Some little shit thought he could cheat his way through the semester, but not with you there.

"Get out." You told the student, your rigid voice reverberating in the classroom.

"Professor, please-"

"Get out of my classroom." You repeated, eyes burning holes into the poor student's head.

Trembling with fear, he gathered his belongings, tripping on his way out. You just knew the gossip that would start around the campus about you being a bitch, a horrible teacher, the worst he'd ever seen. But you only had one single rule — no cheating. That was it. You allowed your students to eat during your lessons, to call you by your first name, to approach you with any issues they had, whether academic or not. But you did not tolerate cheating.

No one dared to move until the end of the exam, and even Viktor was shaken by your hostility. He remembered you so differently, still visualising how you knelt between his legs to take off his brace, and how sweet your scent used to be whenever you visited him in the laboratory. But now you built metaphorical walls around yourself, changed your clothes, your hair, even your perfume — jasmine, bergamot, musk. Anything but sweet. And Viktor couldn't help but blame himself for that.

The grandfather clock in the classroom struck once, and every single student put their quills down. No one wanted to get on your bad side. Still watching them intently from the back of the classroom, they gathered their belongings quietly and placed their papers on Viktor's desk on their way out. With the last student out, you walked up to the desk and counted half of the papers, stacking them in a separate pile.

"Can we talk?" Viktor caved in. He couldn't stand seeing you like that anymore.

"Here's your stack of exams." You ignored his question. "I'll mark my part, then drop them off at your lab once I'm done. Tomorrow or the day after."

"Of course. I shall try to finish them as quickly as-" He watched you leave, hips swaying as you walked out the door without even saying goodbye. "-possible."

There was no denying that Viktor found your attitude insufferable, albeit it being his fault. He misunderstood you, he got that now. But you refused to give him a chance to explain himself, to apologise, and that drove him mad. The worst part? He couldn't blame you. You basically saved his life, and he repaid you with disdain. Viktor would've probably done the same if the roles were reverse, really.

You walked back to your apartment with the papers neatly organised in a leather bag, careful not mix them with other files and textbooks. The air was getting colder, winter was approaching, and you rushed to get home before the wind froze you to death. You appreciated the warmth of your apartment more than ever, and began marking the papers as soon as you took off your coat and boots.

Thinking back at how you reacted when you caught that boy cheating, you began to consider it might have been too harsh. He still had the chance to retake the exam in summer, but you scared him shitless, you could see that in his eyes. And you didn't want to be the bad professor. You didn't want Viktor to be the good one. The mere idea of him being loved by students while you were hated by them made you cringe.

No, you needed a different approach, one that wouldn't compromise your position at the Academy, or your title of Master of Arts. You needed to kill them, and especially Viktor, with kindness. But you only had two options to be able to do that. You could tell Viktor you got over whatever happened in the lab last year, which was unlikely that he would believe you, or you could actually talk to him about whatever happened in the lab last year, which was highly improbable of you to do.

Okay, so maybe being a spiteful bitch was the way to move forward, only it wouldn't work on the long run. Not when the exams were half science, half arts, and you needed to speak to Viktor about them. Or when the curriculum needed to be revised, and you needed to speak to Viktor about that, too. Or when there were staff meetings, or half term parties, or social gatherings.

The bottom line was that, one way or another, you would end up in a situation which required you to speak to him more than just hellos and goodbyes, and the longer you avoided him, the harder your life would be. And what could you even say? Sorry? Fuck no. Viktor was supposed to apologise, not you.

True to your word, like you had always been, you visited the lab to drop off the papers. Some things stayed the same — same doors, same walls, same floors. But there was something new within the laboratory, something you did not expect. A woman.

She smiled at you, a sickening sweet smile that made you gag, but out of politeness, you nodded, acknowledging her presence. Her tight curls were neatly gathered in a top bun, and she pushed back her half-moon glasses that hid the freckles on her cheeks.

"Hi." You clutched the exam papers at your chest. "Is Viktor here? I need to give him something. "

"He should be back any minute now. I can give him whatever it is you need." She still smiled.

"No, I can wait."

Why? Why did you say that? You could've given her the damn papers and left. You and your stupid mouth. Silence echoed in the lab as you shifted your weight from one leg to another, impatiently glancing at the door in the hopes that Viktor arrived sooner. She, on the other hand, tidied up the place, careful to not throw away anything useful, organising tools and materials that belonged to him. You knew Viktor didn't like it when others touched his stuff, so why was she just casually picking things up like she lived there?

"And you are?" The words came out before you could stop them.

"Oh, silly me, where are my manners?" She shook her head and walked towards you, a hand reached out to shake yours. "Sky Young. I'm Viktor and Jayce's assistant."

"Assistant?" You nodded, stunned by the newfound information. Since when did Viktor need an assistant? "Y/N Y/L/N, Master of Arts." You shook her hand, gripping it a little too tight for her own liking.

"Ah, you're the painter who saved Viktor's life!" Sky looked at you in awe. "I used to be his nurse. Whatever you did baffled the medical community! I became his assistant to help around, but to study him as well."

Study him? You studied him for your portrait, that didn't earn you a spot in his lab. Why was she any better?

"How... nice." The fake smile on your lips betrayed the jealousy in your heart. "On second thought, you can give him these papers. There's no need for me to be here."

"Are you sure? Vik should be here any minute now." Sky's nod of encouragement only added fuel to your desire to leave.

Vik?? They were on a nickname basis now? Bullshit, she wasn't just his assistant.

"I'm sure. I need to prepare the lectures for next term anyway. I don't suppose you know if he finished marking his part of the papers?" You kept your cool.

"He did, actually! Let me get them for you." The girl rushed into an annex of the lab and came back with the stack of exams.

You took a quick look through them to make sure they were all marked, so you wouldn’t need to come back, and shoved them in your bag.

"Thanks."

"No problem! What you are doing is groundbreaking! If there's anything I can assist with, please let me know!" Sky smiled.

Okay, you got it — she was nice and you weren't. Was that how she got under Viktor's skin? By being insufferably nice and sweet? It didn't matter. She was there, in the lab, working with him. And you? You went back to your apartment, alone and upset.

Viktor spent his holiday revising the curriculum for the next term. While Sky was a brilliant assistant, she could be quite overwhelming sometimes. He learned his lesson about not assuming that anyone who treated him with an ounce of respect wanted to secretly mock him, but he forgot about boundaries. As a consequence, Sky waltzed into his lab every day, talking, singing, bringing him food, coffee, tea — Viktor took your silence for granted. He missed that.

He missed you.

Snow crunched under his feet, each step heavier than the previous one. Viktor should've known better than to go to the Academy during a blizzard, but he needed to return a few books back to the library and to write down the grades in the register. Sky offered to do that for him, but there were personal details about his students that she wasn't allowed to see.

He locked the back door to the staff entrance once he was inside the Academy, wiped the snow off his brace and boots, and walked straight to the library. It was hauntingly quiet and dark, and although he appreciated silence, the empty hallways of the University gave him anxiety. Viktor was a rational man, he knew there was nothing there, but the lack of students and staff simply sent a chill down his spine.

With the books returned, he traversed the library and walked downstairs to the staffroom. He would have to write down the grades quickly — the blizzard was getting worse, and the last thing he wanted was to be stuck in an empty University for who knows how long. It would be ironic, poetic even, to die of starvation in a place where he starved for knowledge.

The door to the staffroom was ajar, and the lights were on. Strange, he didn't think anyone else was there. Not in this weather, anyway. Pushing the door open with his cane, Viktor froze on the spot when he saw you sitting down, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, forehead creased as you copied the grades into the register. He would never get another opportunity like that. He needed to finally clear things out with you.

"Hello-"

The wooden chair fell to the floor as you recoiled in fear, one hand on your thumping heart. You sighed in relief when you saw Viktor standing in the doorframe, the panic stronger than the hate you held for him.

"For fuck's sake, Viktor." You grabbed the chair to put it back in its place and sit down. "You scared the shit out of me."

He wasn't used to your colourful vocabulary, not when you posed as an elegant, educated professor. But he couldn't deny the joy it brought him to hear you say his name.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you." Viktor propped himself on his cane.

"No, it's fine. What are you doing here?" Averting your gaze, you looked down at the register.

"I came to return some books and register the grades. I see you're doing the same."

"Yes, well, no rest for the wicked, I suppose." You shrugged. "Why in this awful weather, though?"

"I thought you'd do it when the term started and I didn't want you to feel obliged to speak to me then." Viktor said.

Ouch. His words made you feel horrible. You had been horrible to him. It was a deserved jab at your behaviour and attitude.

"I can come back later-"

"Don't." You almost launched yourself across the table. "You walked all this way in a snow storm, don't leave because of me. If anything, I should leave."

"Eeh, we've both been pricks." Viktor shrugged.

There it was, the crucial, inevitable conversation you dreaded for so long. The one that kept you up at night and stopped you from functioning. The one that would make or break you.

"Listen, Viktor, I-"

"I'm sorry." He cut you off. Taking advantage of your shock, Viktor pulled a chair and sat down, his leg hurting too much to stand. "There's no excuse for the way I reacted, but you must understand that I haven't met a lot of people who genuinely wanted what was best for me. Most people either mocked me or pitied me for my disability. No one really saw past that, with very few exceptions, like Jayce or Heimerdinger."

Shit, you didn't think about why he reacted the way he did. You just assumed he had a god complex and thought your art wasn't comparable to his science. You really took it the wrong way, and drowned him in pettiness and loathing. How could you not think he must've been bullied his whole life? Just because you saw past his illness didn't mean others did. Oh, you were an idiot.

"You don't need to apologise, I need to. I just thought you considered art to be beneath science, and by extension that I was beneath you." You cringed at your own ignorance.

"Why would I ever think that?"

"I don't know, I've been stupid, alright?" You scoffed. "I'm sorry, Viktor. Peace?"

"Peace. Do you mind if I register these exams? That snow storm looks terrible and I’d like to finish before it gets worse." He took out the papers from his bag.

"Not at all! I'll make us some tea, it's bloody cold in here."

When you turned on the stove, Viktor dragged his chair next to yours, and your heart skipped a beat. Rationally, you knew he did it so you could both access the register, but the idea of sitting so close to him gave you heart palpitations. You stirred the honey in his tea, and you smiled to yourself at the memory of you doing the same thing a year ago, when you were in his lab. Who knew you would do it again?

"There you go." You placed two mugs on the table and sat down.

The scent of roses, cinnamon and vanilla filled his nostrils, and Viktor couldn't think anymore. It was the same perfume you wore when you spent time in the laboratory, when you put all your blood, sweat and tears into his portrait. He wondered if wore the other perfume, the one that didn't suit you as much, just to spite him? No. Surely you weren't that petty. But if you did, it stroked his ego to know you cared so much. And just like you did in the lab, you jotted down the grades in complete silence, both of you focused, and so close to one another. It felt normal, and he realised how much he needed your presence around him.

Between writing and sipping tea, you occasionally glanced at Viktor's profile, and it sparked something within you — a burning desire to sketch. He didn't know, but you finished registering the exams a while back, and reached out for a pencil and a scrap piece of paper. Your other hand shielded the lines and circles that began to take shape and look more like him, and as inconspicuous as you tried to be, it was futile.

"I know you're drawing me."

"Damn it!" You huffed.

The staffroom echoed with your laughter, and how could you not laugh? It was such an innocent moment between the two of you that both you and Viktor found it amusing. You really couldn't stop yourself from drawing him — your muse. But all good things had to come to an end, and Viktor finished writing down the last grade in the register. You didn't know why, but the idea of having to go home left you feeling hurt.

You walked with him down the dim hallway and unlocked the back door, but were unable to open it. Something was in its way. Viktor looked out the window, amber eyes wide in genuine panic. When he didn't say anything, you scoffed and moved in his way to try and look outside, but you couldn't see anything but white. The thick snow was blocking the door. You were effectively stuck. One more push, and the door didn’t budge. Another push, and you hurt yourself more than you moved the door.

"Well, looks like we're going to have to dig our way home." You mused.

"You're joking. We'll freeze to death!" Viktor leaned again the window for support.

"I don't see you coming up with a better idea, Mr. Scientist."

"Oh, and digging through snow was your master plan?" He snorted. "I'm sure me and my leg are going to make it back home safely."

"What would you rather do, then, if you're so clever?" You folded your arms across your chest. "Go on, genius."

"We can just... wait for it to end." Viktor pondered. It was definitely better than going out in the cold, and you hated to admit that he was right.

"Ugh, fine. But it's getting late and it doesn't look like it's going to stop any time soon. We need to find a place to sleep in."

"My office has a sofa. I can sleep on the floor." He suggested and you stared at him in shock and disbelief.

"Office? You have an office? All I got was a fucking closet."

"Well, I was the Dean's assistant." Viktor chuckled.

You didn't reply, for fear of saying something you might regret later, and instead huffed, puffed and stomped up the stairs, trailing behind Viktor like a lost puppy. That part of the University was foreign to you, and you stopped to examine the portraits of some members of staff — Professor Heimerdinger had one, Jayce had one, Viktor had one, but whoever painted it couldn't capture his real grace.

"Hm, I could do this with my eyes closed." You judged the technique, the colours, the proportions. It was a fantastic portrait, it just missed Viktor's essence.

"Is it not up to your standards, Miss Painter?" He tapped his cane. You got the hint and carried on walking.

"No, the painting itself is fine, but it didn't do justice to your beauty." You said with so much nonchalance that it made Viktor short of breath.

Did you really think that about him? You probably meant it as a painter — most artists found beauty in ugliness, or in the mundane. But there was no possible way you meant it as a woman, not when you were so perfect and he was so broken.

Viktor stopped in front of an oak door with a thin tinted window in the middle of it. He pulled out a set of keys, all of them identical, but he knew exactly which one unlocked his office. Curiosity got the better of you, and with inquisitive eyes, you began examining his study. The first thing that caught your attention was the bearskin rug on the floor. A bit distasteful, you thought, but it looked soft enough to sleep on it. In front of you was a brown velvet sofa, and to your right was a fireplace. The mantle was decorated with trophies from competitions and a picture of Viktor and Jayce, which brought a smile to your face.

On the other side of the office, across the fireplace, was his desk — a few papers were scattered on it, but otherwise it was tidy — and behind it were a bookcase and a wardrobe.

"What's there?" You asked, head tilted towards a door.

"The shower."

"You have a shower, too? I'm sorry, do you live here, fancy pants?" Your reaction to his answer made Viktor chuckle, but he had a perfectly reasonable explanation for that.

"Eeh, Professor Heimerdinger found that some of us spent so much time buried in work that he had showers and toilets installed. They're powered by hextech, so regardless of the weather, there's hot water. Feel free to use it if you want." He shrugged, hanging his coat by the back of his desk chair.

"There's only one problem, Mr. Scientist. I don't have any spare clothes." You saw the grin on his lips. "Don't tell me you have that, too."

"Plenty of clean shirts in the wardrobe. Please help yourself to one." Viktor nodded.

"Wouldn't your girlfriend mind if I wore your clothes?" The hint of jealousy in your voice betrayed your nonchalance.

"Girlfriend?" He looked at you dumbfounded. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Come on. Pretty girl with glasses and freckles and a sickeningly sweet smile? Sky?"

"Ah, Miss Young!" Viktor remembered. "I'm sorry to disappoint, but she's not my girlfriend."

It did not disappoint you at all. In fact, it made you hopeful. You weren't sure what you were hoping for, but it felt as though a boulder had been lifted off your shoulders to know that Viktor wasn't involved with Sky.

"Very well. I shall take that offer, then. A shower will warm me up." You walked up the wardrobe and examined the collection of identical shirts. "I suggest you do the same, you shouldn't stay cold." You chose a top that looked a little bigger than the rest, as you didn't want it to be too tight and uncomfortable around your chest.

"I'll start a fire for us, then. The office should warm up by the time you're finished." Viktor dragged his feet to the fireplace.

You thanked him and entered the bathroom, searching through cabinets and drawers for a clean towel. You found one and brought it to the shower, then stripped down and let the hot water clean your body. There was nothing wrong in what you were doing, right? You were two professors stuck in a university until the snow storm settled down. Nothing wrong with taking a shower. Nothing wrong with scrubbing your skin with his body wash. Nothing wrong with drying yourself with his towel. Nothing wrong with wearing his shirt. It was just a professional predicament, nothing more, nothing less.

Gathering your belongings, you exited the bathroom, tugging at the hem of the shirt to cover your thighs. It was shorter than you had hoped, but you knew Viktor was an honourable man. He understood the situation you were both in and it wasn't as though he would jump your bones. Mostly because he didn't like you, and while that comforted you, it hurt your ego. He was an attractive man, and his mind was complex and intriguing — of course you had certain feelings for him. You didn't entirely understand those feelings — respect, admiration, adoration, leftover spite. It was an amalgam of emotions and you didn't have time to process them because you spent a whole year being a bitch.

Viktor's heart throbbed when he saw you awkwardly pull down his shirt to expose less skin, even if it was to no avail. He pretended not to notice your bare thighs and how tight his shirt was around your chest, the buttons barely keeping your breasts from spilling out of it. He poked the fire instead, and you walked around the desk in the hopes that it would cover your lower body.

"I don't suppose you have a blanket I could cover myself with."

"I only have one blanket." Viktor said, back facing you to give you privacy. "Top shelf in the wardrobe. You can use it tonight, I'll sleep in my coat."

"Absolutely not." You stretched, tiptoeing to reach the shelf and he could not stop his head from turning, eyes darting at the shirt that did nothing to cover your lace underwear as you struggled to grab the blanket. "We'll sleep on the rug, back-to-back."

If Viktor didn't know any better, he would've thought you did everything you could to get closer to him. But that was just his imagination. He had no chance to be with you, and understood you were only trying to protect him from the cold. You snatched the blanket and wrapped it around your body, and while it irked him that he couldn't see the skin he would never touch, Viktor found the way you looked all snuggled up to be adorable. It was a stark contrast from the heartless mask you wore for so long.

He left to take a shower, and you guarded the fireplace, cast iron poker in one hand like some knight of flames. The blizzard wasn't getting any better, and the darkness of the night coupled with the snow made it impossible to tell when it would stop. One thing was certain — you were grateful you brought food, and enough for both you and Viktor. Who knew how long you would be stuck there for? Surely Jayce would come looking for Viktor considering he wouldn't be in his lab any time soon.

A great friend he was, you thought. Not just to Viktor, but to you, too. It was Jayce who forced you to draw again, who managed to get you out of the house and who brought some sort of stability in your life. You should thank him at some point. Him and Mel. Things were somewhat back to normal, and it wasn't because of you, but because of them and Viktor.

As if he knew you were thinking about him, Viktor walked into his office, wearing only a pair of loose linen trousers that barely clung to his waist. Beads of water glistened on his pale chest and a few strands of wet hair stuck to his flushed cheeks. You assumed he would put a shirt on, but instead he crawled on the bearskin rug, wincing at the pain caused by his leg, even if it wasn't as bad as it used to be.

You reached out for the leather strap of your bag and pulled it into your lap, taking out the bread you baked that very morning. Breaking it in two, you offered one half to Viktor, who eagerly took it.

"We make a good team, don't you think?" He said and you looked at him with inquisitive eyes. "I provide shelter, you provide food."

"We even make a whole outfit together. You have the pants, I have the shirt." You joked and Viktor rolled his eyes at your attempt of a joke, but his smile was there.

With food in your bellies and the fire dying down, you lied on your back and pulled the blanket over you and Viktor. You could still vaguely distinguish the patterns on the ceiling in the dim light — leaves and vines, flowers and curved lines.

"Back-to-back, yeah?" You told him, turning on your side.

"Yes." Viktor murmured, doing the same.

In the silence of the night, he could hear his own heart pumping blood through his veins. Viktor could've sworn he heard your hear beat, frantically thumping against your ribcage, but he blamed it on his imagination again. You were probably sound asleep, dreaming the sweetest dreams.

You weren't sleeping, you were staring into the darkness of his office, eyes wide and refusing to stay closed. There wasn't an ounce of tiredness in your body, but you thought Viktor had already fallen asleep, and didn't want to bother him with late night conversations about the meaning of life.

His left side was going numb from the pressure of his weight, pins and needles in his arm and shoulder. Viktor sighed, uncomfortably sighing at the sensation. He turned on his back, feeling better already. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, vaguely distinguishing the shapes around him. He raised his head to look at the fireplace — the last thing he wanted was to set fire to the Academy. His mind spiralled, thinking about the next term, about the work he still had to do in the lab, about how his interactions with you would be from now on. Viktor was so used to you ignoring him that he couldn't even imagine you smiling and greeting him in the morning.

"Are you sleeping?" You whispered, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"No, not really." He said. "I don't feel tired."

"Me neither." You turned on your back and faced the ceiling.

"What happened to back-to-back?" Viktor playfully mocked you.

"I got pins and needles in my arm." You admitted. "Can I ask you something?"

"You already did."

"Oh, wow, okay, fuck off." You frowned in the darkness and he laughed.

"I'm only joking. You can ask me anything."

"Would you model for me? I swear on my life I'm not making fun of y-"

"Yes." Viktor cut you off with no hesitation in his voice. "If that will make you happy, then yes.

"Oh. Since when do you care about my happiness?" You laughed, hoping he was jesting, praying he would say something witty.

"Since I lost you." Came his all too serious response, enough to make your blood freeze in your body.

He meant that platonically. He must've meant it platonically. There was no way in hell Viktor cared for you more than a friend, not after the way you treated him. You waited for him to chuckle, to say he didn't mean it that way, but he was quiet. Only one way to find out how he meant his words.

His breathing was heavy, like he had a weight on his chest stopping him from functioning properly, and Viktor flinched when he felt your hand touch his under the blanket. He brushed it off as an accident, until your pinky found his, hooking around it.

"I'm here now." You told him, voice sweet and soothing. "If you'll still have me."

Viktor boldly intertwined his fingers with yours, and you could feel your cheeks burning. But friends held hands, didn't they? It wasn't out of the ordinary. The room was getting colder, and the thin blanket barely offered you any warmth. When your body shivered, Viktor dared to scoot closer to you, his body radiating heat. How was he so hot when he looked so pale?

"Do you want me to hold you?" He asked — platonically, of course.

You didn't reply, but instead crawled under his arm, resting your head on his chest, feeling his frantic heart beats. Friends did that, didn't they? Particularly in such a situation that required you not to freeze.

"I missed you so much." Viktor confessed, burying his face in your hair. You smelled less of you and more of him, and it drove him mad. You were so close, and so far at the same time that his heart almost exploded in his chest from the overwhelming emotions.

"Missed you too." You mumbled, intoxicated by his scent and warmth. "I don't ever want to be a petty bitch to you."

"I promise I won't give you any reason to be one." He smiled into your hair. "Although I must admit, it was quite exciting."

"Mm, how so?" You looked up at him, even if you could barely distinguish his features in the pale moonlight.

"Well, as frustrating as you were, I really wanted to put you in your place." Viktor purred, fingers combining your hair. "I still do."

There was nothing platonic about his words, nothing platonic about the way he held you, and nothing platonic about how you lifted your leg to straddle him, hovering over his body.

"So do it, then. Put me in my fucking place."

His hand slithered behind your head, pulling you into a wet, feverish kiss with newfound strength. Toes curling, you let out a guttural moan, grinning against his lips — you needed him, not as a muse, not as a model, but as a man.

Viktor's hands travelled up your thighs, up your hips, pulling the shirt over your head. There was no time for foreplay — he wanted you, and he wouldn't stop until he had you. With the shirt tossed on the floor, you leaned back for another kiss, another taste of him, and he gladly obliged.

The room wasn't cold anymore, not when you could feel him hard against your clothed cunt, and you automatically rolled your hips, aching for any bit of friction.

"So needy." Viktor's lips curved into a grin, and he dug his fingers into the plush of your thighs, earning a whimper from you.

"Not needy." You shook your head and pouted. "Greedy."

He couldn't see the lust in your eyes, but he felt your hand slip between your bodies, under the fabric of his trousers as you tugged on the waistband, yanking it down. That same hand found his cock, fingers gently wrapping around his shaft and Viktor bucked his hips, yearning for much more than just your fist.

"So needy." You mocked his words, and he found your panties, sliding them to the side.

"Greedy." Viktor corrected you, his digits poking at your entrance, slick coating them.

Lifting yourself to manoeuvre his aching cock, you pushed his fingers away to slip the tip inside of you. Inch by inch, you sunk lower, feeling him stretch your spongy walls. He was bigger than you had anticipated, and you sat there for a good minute to get used to the girth, hissing at the pain caused by the intrusion. It had been a while since you did this.

"Tight." Viktor bit back a moan, struggling not to move — he wanted you to take the lead when you were ready. Perhaps skipping foreplay wasn't such a good idea.

You placed a hand on his chest for support, slowly rolling your hips, his cock reaching deeper than you thought was possible. It was no easy feat taking him all in, but what little stinging pain you felt was soon replaced by pleasure, and the hissing turned into whimpering, weeping.

Viktor was on the verge of a panic attack when he heard your quiet sobs, almost pushing you off him until you bounced up and down his cock, riding him like it was the last time you would see him.

"Fuck- oh, fuck, Vik-" You broke when he held you in place by your hips, fucking you deeper, harder, and you were pliant for him. Obedient for him. Good for him.

Viktor wouldn't last long, not when you chanted his name like a prayer, cunt clenching around his cock. You were made to take him, he thought, his hand on the back of your head pulling you into another sloppy kiss.

"I'm close-" He shamefully admitted, wanting this moment to last forever, but his stamina was weak, and you didn't want to push his body over the limit.

Your fingers reached out for your clit rubbing frantic circles over it to help you climax. Not that his cock couldn't do that, but you could feel it twitching inside of you. He lost himself when your orgasm crashed down like a tide, having the privilege of finishing inside of you. Your body was limp as you struggled to get off him, falling backwards on the rug, his fingers firmly wrapped around yours.

The silence in the office wasn't haunting anymore, but rather peaceful, natural. You didn't feel the need to fill it with meaningless conversations, or petty bickering, or silly jokes. No, it felt good just lying there next to Viktor, holding hands and breathing. Two lost souls — mind and heart, logic and feeling, science and art — coexisting, completing each other, fusing with one another to create something so delicate — love.