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incognit0slut · 11 months ago

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Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene V: The Temporary Bliss)

Your fleeting moment of happiness is quickly overshadowed as old wounds from the past resurface.

Part warning: (18+) fingering, protected sex (because helping him roll down a condom is hot), and, unfortunately, angst Words: 4.8k A/n: so this is the last part of Act III: The Deception, you might want to prepare yourself as we get closer to the truth

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

You were a coward. A fool. A mess. You didn’t know what to label yourself anymore, or if there were even words to describe the way you felt. But you did know one thing—you didn't have the strength to confront Spencer, you couldn't even see his face without feeling sick. So you did what you did best.

You avoided him. Plain and simple.

It was actually easier than you had expected. After that dreadful weekend, there seemed to be enough cases to distract you. You traveled across the state, one week in a new place, and another in a different city. By the end of the month, you hardly thought about him at all. Your friends seemed to be unaware of the underlying tension between you, and even if they did notice, they surprisingly kept their thoughts to themselves—everyone except Derek who teasingly pointed out that you seemed more focused on your work than usual.

You had shrugged off his comment with a forced laugh, brushing it off as if it was just a harmless observation. You told yourself that you were fine, that you had everything under control. But despite your efforts to stay distracted, the reality was different. The moment the plane landed back in Quantico, you knew you would have to face him again, especially when Emily suggested to hit the bar.

Her reason was to blow off steam after a gruesome few weeks, which was followed by a chorus of agreements from the team. Now you were left with no more excuses. Your eyes drifted toward him, his gaze slowly met yours, and that was how you found yourself in the same dingy, low-lit bar the team always gravitated to an hour later.

The familiar murmur of conversation and clinking of glasses greeted you as you entered the place. While the others settled to their usual spot in the corner, you quickly made a bee-line towards the bar. The bartender, a tall man with a slightly overgrown beard and sharp blue eyes, looked up as you approached.

He was cute, in a rugged, rough-around-the-edges kind of way. You would normally find yourself attracted to these types of men—confident, approachable, and with a certain easygoing charm. But apparently, your heart had other ideas, preferring a certain someone with a genius-level IQ with warm brown eyes.

“Hey, you're back," he greeted you, nodding his head. "Haven’t seen you in a while."

You leaned over the bar. "It's been a busy month."

"Where did you go off to this time?"

"Chicago."

He whistled softly. "Chicago, huh? Must have been a big one to send you all the way there." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “What did the bad guy do this time?”

You gave a small, secretive smile. "You know I can't talk about that. That's classified information."

The corner of his lips turned into a wide grin. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He picked up a glass and began wiping it down. “So, what’ll it be tonight? Your usual Margarita?”

You hesitated, shaking your head.

"Sex on the beach?"

Normally, you'd ask for either—you preferred something light and tangy, a drink that was strong enough to take the edge off without overwhelming you. But tonight was different. Tonight, you needed something with more kick.

“Give me a shot of tequila—no, make it two.”

A frown briefly crossed his face. “Are you sure?”

No.

“Yes,” you insisted. “I need something stronger tonight.”

The man studied your face for a moment before he nodded, pouring two generous shots in front of you. He turned to grab lime wedges from the small fridge under the counter but stopped abruptly when he noticed you’d already downed one of the shots.

"Wow, you weren't kidding.”

The strong liquor burned your throat. “That is disgusting.”

“That’s why you need this to chase it,” he said, sliding the lime wedge and a pinch of salt towards you. “Here.”

You purposely ignored him and brought the second glass to your lips, feeling the burn even before you swallowed.

“Here, take it.”

“No, I’m fine.” You pushed the now empty glass toward him, making a face. “Pour me another one.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh, come on! I’m here with the gang!” You gestured toward the corner where the team was sitting. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

He hesitated, glancing over your shoulder and then back at you. “Fine, but this is the last one,” he said, reluctantly pouring another shot.

You gave him a quick nod, grabbing the shot and lifting it to your lips, steeling yourself for the burn. Just as you were about to drink, you felt a firm hand on your wrist. Your body tensed, not because of the sudden interruption, but because you felt another hand resting at your back before it slowly slid across, settling just at the soft curve of your waist.

You didn’t have to turn your head to know who it was. His smell was unmistakable—clean, with a hint of soap and the faintest trace of coffee.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

You watched as Spencer took the glass from your grip, settling it on the counter. Your brows knit together in confusion. “What are you doing?”

But instead of answering you, his eyes were focused intently on the bartender. “You shouldn’t have given her another glass.”

The bartender’s eyes widened slightly, and he held up his hands. “Hey, she asked for it.”

You nodded along. “To be fair, he did offer me Sex on the Beach.”

That didn’t seem to help. Spencer’s grip tightened on your waist, and you could feel him pulling you slightly closer to him. “That’s not funny. We need to get you some water.”

“Reid, it’s just two shots—”

He cut you off, turning back to the bartender. “Can she get a glass of water?”

The bartender nodded, quickly grabbing a glass and filling it with water. He handed it to Spencer, who then turned his attention back to you. “Drink this, please.”

“Seriously, I’m fine,” you protested.

He placed the glass in your hand. “Drink it.”

“Two shots,” you argued, finally facing him. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve drunk a lot worse than this.”

“I'm aware.”

“Then why does it bother you so much?”

He went quiet for a moment, his eyes drifting between you, the glass of water, then back to you.

“Because I don’t like being the reason you’re drinking something you hate in the first place.”

You quickly downed the cool water. How could you even answer that? Your skin suddenly felt hot, and your palms grew clammy as he kept his hand on your waist. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

“It’s not because of you,” you said, shrugging as you set the glass down.

"Isn't it, though? Why else would you be reacting this way?"

“Maybe I just like tequila now. Did you ever think of that?”

“You hate tequila," he replied as if it was common knowledge.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ve developed a taste for it.”

“So you’ve suddenly decided you like something you’ve been avoiding for years?”

“Maybe I’m trying new things,” you shot back, your tone sharp. “Maybe you should try it too.”

There was a moment of silence as he considered your words. "I am trying new things."

You felt him tug you slightly, letting your body fall against his. Your heart sped up as you stared up at him. Even in the dim light of the bar, his brown eyes seemed to catch the faint glow, looking lighter and more intense than usual. You watched as his gaze drifted slowly to your lips.

"Reid..."

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

His expression softened as he looked back at you, his hand still resting lightly on your waist. "I'm trying to play the perfect boyfriend."

"So this is all an act?"

This was it, the moment of truth, the point where everything could change. He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “No,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing against your hip.

Your hand fell to his chest, fingers pressing lightly to feel the rapid beat of his heart. It was pounding, just as fast as yours.

"Spencer..."

He let out a sigh—a sound that seemed to carry both relief and a touch of disbelief as it left his lips. "I thought I'd never hear you call me that again."

He was right. Ever since you drifted apart, calling him Reid felt safer, like a barrier that kept things distant and professional. Spencer was too personal, too intimate for the walls you had built around yourself. But now, standing so close, it felt like the past and present were colliding, making everything more confusing.

Your finger played with the knot of his tie, absentmindedly tracing the pattern. "You're making this more complicated."

He nodded. "I know."

"We're supposed to break this off."

"I know."

"We're supposed to stick to the plan."

He opened his mouth, then closed it, struggling for a moment before replying, “If that's what you want, then we'll go through it. But...”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "But what?"

"But I need to know if it’s really what you want." His voice faltered slightly. "If you want me to leave, I will."

His question hung in the air like a thick fog, making it hard for you to think clearly. It was a simple choice, wasn't it? Stick to the plan, keep up the fake dating, and finally break it off. No mess, no complications. But why, then, did the thought of him leaving feel like a heavy weight in your chest?

You caught him nervously trailing his bottom lip with his tongue—a habit of his when he was deep in thought. The simple gesture made you feel an unexpected pull, and before you knew it, you found yourself pressing closer to him.

“Spence,” you murmured. “You’re making this really hard.”

“I don’t want to make it hard,” he said quietly. “I-I just I need to know where we stand.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. The words felt heavy on your tongue, but you knew you needed to say them.

"I want you to leave," you started, watching as his expression shifted, a hint of pain flickering in his eyes as he slowly pulled away. But before he could step back, you tugged on his tie, pulling him back towards you. "But I'm leaving with you."

His eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean?"

And suddenly, a wave of embarrassment washed over you, and you looked away. "What I'm trying to say is... that—well..."

"Well?"

Your gaze focused somewhere beyond his shoulder, finding it easier to speak without meeting his eyes. "I want to finish what we started that morning."

He blinked, processing your words. "You mean... when we..."

"Yeah."

You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. "Oh." He leaned in slightly, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back. "How drunk are you right now?"

You couldn't help but let a laugh escape your lips, finally looking back at him. "I had two shots!"

His expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You know what this means, right?"

"What?"

"If we…" He trailed off, clearing his throat before continuing, "If we do this, it'll change everything."

You smoothed down his shirt, your fingers lingering on the fabric. "I know."

"And you still want that?"

"I do."

He took a deep breath, searching your eyes for any hesitation. "And you want to leave... right now?"

"Look, if you don't want to—"

He quickly cut you off, shaking his head with a slight, nervous chuckle. “No, I do. I just… I want to make sure you do too.”

"I wouldn't be saying this if I didn't mean it."

His eyes softened. “You’re right,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting in a hesitant smile that looked almost like a grimace. “Okay. Okay. We’re doing this.”

Seeing him easily flustered was always amusing for you, and this time was no different. "Come on," you urged him, taking his hand in yours. "Let's get out of here."

"Wait, shouldn't we tell them we're leaving?"

You glanced back at your friends. "And tell them what? That we're going to have sex?"

He almost tripped over his own feet. "Well, when you put it that way…"

You squeezed his hand and flashed him a smile over your shoulder as you started toward the exit. With a quick, eager step, he followed behind.

Spencer’s apartment was just as you remembered—deep green walls, warm lighting, bookshelves lining every corner. But you barely had a moment to register your surroundings before he had his face buried in your neck.

His lips found the sensitive spot below your ear. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt as his mouth trailed a wet path down your throat, and you had to push against his chest slightly because he was pressing you too hard against the door. For a man who spent most of his time buried in books, he seemed to have an unexpected strength that took you by surprise.

“Hey, hey,” you murmured, a soft giggle escaping as you tilted your head to look at him. “Slow down.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes before leaning down again, his hands coming up to cup your face as he kissed you.

His lips were hot against yours, moving with an eager, almost desperate need. He sucked gently on your lower lip, pulling it into his mouth before releasing it with a soft, audible pop. The sudden absence of his mouth left your skin tingling, only to be followed by the gentle graze of his teeth, a playful nip that made you gasp and clutch his shirt tighter.

You felt lightheaded, melting under his touch as his tongue teased the seam of your lips, coaxing them open as his tongue teased the seam of your lips, coaxing them open. You let him in willingly, your tongue meeting his eagerly. The sensation left you feeling hot and dizzy, your entire body craving for more of his taste. It was as if his kiss was an intoxicating drug, leaving you utterly addicted. Even when he pulled away slightly to catch his breath, you grabbed him again, pressing your lips firmly against his.

Spencer sighed with pleasure as he held the back of your head, his fingers splaying against your scalp. You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, lost in the way his lips moved against yours, but the instant you felt his growing bulge brush your hip, you gently pushed him away.

A thin, glistening string of saliva followed you, and you reached up to wipe it from his mouth with a quick, almost embarrassed swipe. His breath came in ragged gasps as he looked down at you, his eyes wide in surprise.

"Sorry, I-I got carried away," he mumbled, letting his hand trail down your spine. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his. "You thought I pushed you away because I want us to stop?"

"Uh... maybe? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No, Spencer," you said softly, reaching up to loosen the knot of his tie. "I pushed you away because I need you to take me to your bed."

He watched intently as you pulled off his tie, and when you pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders, his hands fell to his sides.

"Are you going to watch me undress you, or are you going to help?"

A slow smile spread across his face as he shrugged off the jacket completely, his hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. "I think I can manage that."

He started to unbutton his shirt, his fingers brushing against yours. The moment the last button was undone, he let the shirt fall to the floor with a soft rustle. Your palm glided over his chest as you took in his bare skin. You expected his body to be lean—he had long limbs, after all—but you didn't expect the subtle, defined muscles beneath your touch.

"Spencer, have you been working out?"

You could tell he was embarrassed by the way he shifted his gaze from you. "Morgan convinced me to stay in shape," he admitted with a shy smile. "He insists it's part of the job."

You plant a kiss right above his heart. "Well, it's definitely working."

The warmth of your lips seemed to ease his embarrassment, and he let out a soft sigh, his hands coming up to caress your back. You glanced up at him again. "Will you take me to your bed now?"

He quickly nodded and guided you towards his bedroom. Once inside, you pushed him down onto the edge of his bed. His hands roamed across your body as you slipped between his legs, slowly unbuttoning your blouse. The front of the fabric fell away and his gaze followed every movement, his hands eagerly helping you slide it off your shoulders.

Your bra came off next, the straps sliding down your arms as you tossed it aside. His eyes swept over you with admiration as he licked his lips, his gaze lingering on the exposed curve of your body. He pulled you closer, his hands gripping your waist as he pressed a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of your breasts.

When he wrapped his lips around your nipple, a sharp, electrifying pleasure shot through you. His tongue flicked and teased, alternating between gentle suckles and soft nibbles that made you gasp and arch into his touch. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him to you as he continued his ministrations, moving from one breast to the other.

The hand on your back slid lower, his fingers finding the waistband of your pants. You felt him unbutton them, the fabric loosening around your hips. With a firm but gentle tug, he slipped your pants down your legs, followed closely by your panties, until both garments pooled around your feet.

His hand began running up your leg, fingers slipping between your thighs. He let go of your nipple and looked up at you with those brown eyes that seemed to gleam under the light. “Can I touch you?”

You brushed his hair back gently from his forehead. “You’ve touched me before.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

You felt his fingertips brush so lightly over your clit and you nodded. “Yes,” you breathed out, “You can touch me.”

All you could do was sigh as his fingers moved again. He was so gentle, so careful, sliding his fingers up and down your folds, spreading your arousal with each teasing stroke. His eyes never left your face, watching every flicker of pleasure that crossed your features, drinking in the way your lips parted and your breath hitched with each touch.

"Th—That feels good," you cooed, your eyes fluttering low but not completely shut, wanting to see him as he worked over you. He followed your gaze where his fingers continued their exploration, gently pulling back the soft flesh to expose your clit. He traced light, feathery strokes over the sensitive skin and the motion left your legs shaking, nearly losing balance if he weren't holding you against him.

He grabbed the back of your thigh. “Put your leg up here.”

You complied and rested your feet on the bed, giving more access. The new position allowed him to press his fingers more deeply against your clit, his fingers moving in a steady rhythm. You were trembling, mind numb from the way he was touching you, and you almost couldn’t take it when he dipped his middle finger inside your cunt.

"God, Spencer,” you gasped, dropping a hand to the wrist that was nestled between your legs, nails digging into his skin. He slipped another finger inside you, and your eyes screwed shut this time. You could feel his fingers curling inside you, seeking, then finding, the tender spot that made you cry out in pleasure.

Everything became a blur after that. His fingers continued to thrust into you, and with each movement, you grew wetter, the slick sounds of your arousal echoing throughout his room. You clung to his shoulders for support, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he pressed soft kisses across your chest. His thumb then brushed against your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure in gentle circles.

"I'm…” Your eyes fluttered open when his mouth latched onto your hard nipple. “I'm gonna come... if you... keep doing that..."

You weren't even sure why you were warning him, but you couldn’t stop yourself as your hips rolled against his hands. His thumb circled your clit faster in response, and the world around you began to spin. You gasped his name, the sound escaping your lips in a desperate, breathless moan.

When his teeth softly grazed your sensitive nipple, you finally snapped. Wave after wave of orgasm bliss rolled through your body, the pulse of pleasure sending your thighs trembling as he held you through all of it. It's all too much, too intense, and you were left completely spent, shaking, breathless, and needing to lay down immediately.

Spencer caught you as you collapsed on top of him, the force of your weight pushing him onto his back. You stayed like that for a moment, trying to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly against his. But it didn't last long when you felt his bulge press right between your thighs. Without thinking, you found yourself rolling your hips.

He let out a sharp gasp, his hands gripping your hips tightly as you moved against him. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the hardness of his erection pressing against you through the fabric of his pants as your face hovered above his, lips barely touching.

"So when are you going to fuck me?"

He bucked his hips against you. "I-I... I have a condom in my drawer."

His words made you falter. Why does he have a condom?

It was stupid, really, you knew why contraception was necessary. But the thought of him having an active sexual life with someone else after you had drifted apart stung deeply. It wasn’t technically your business, but knowing that he might have been with others hurt, especially when the last man you had been close to was him.

"Spence... why do you have a condom?"

You hated how small your voice sounded.

He gently brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes searching yours as he weighed his words before letting out a sigh. "After… after that night, when we—almost… I just wanted to be prepared. I didn't know if… if we'd ever…"

You slowly relaxed. "So you haven't used any?"

He shook his head. "No, I haven't."

Your heart swelled at his words. You leaned in and kissed him softly, a sudden rush of affection washing over you. "Well, I think it's time we put it to use," you whispered against his lips, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "Where did you put it?"

"Bottom drawer, on the left."

You pulled away to reach over to his drawer, hearing the sound of his belt buckle unlatching behind you. Your eyes briefly flashed towards the book sitting on the nightstand, a glimpse of its cover catching your attention. But you didn’t dwell on it, you were too focused on rummaging through his things until your fingers brushed against the familiar texture of the wrapper.

He was completely naked as you turned to face him again, your eyes catching his cock resting perfectly against his stomach as he leaned back against the pillows. You crawled over to him and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on his bulging tip.

He let out a sharp hiss. "I-I don't think I can last long if you do that."

You smiled and straightened yourself, your fingers delicately tearing open the wrapper. You could feel his eyes on you, half-lidded with desire, his focus narrowing to the way your fingers brushed against his skin. His body tensed, and his breathing grew heavier, as you slowly slid the condom down his length.

The thin latex felt almost invisible under your fingertips, allowing the heat radiating from his body to seep through. He couldn't take his eyes off you, mesmerized by the way your fingers glided over him so effortlessly. Your touch was firm yet gentle, and when you finally reached the base, you gave him a final, possessive squeeze.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, his hands finding your hips as you positioned yourself over him. You hovered above his tip, teasingly brushing it against your entrance before slowly sinking down. You paused halfway, adjusting to his size, feeling lightheaded as he stretched you regardless of how wet you were. It was overwhelming, but the numbness was exactly the kind of rush you were seeking.

And finally, with a deep breath, you let gravity pull you down, taking him all the way in.

You both gasped at the sensation, the intense fullness causing your muscles to clench around him. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he steadied you. Then, slowly, you began to move, lifting yourself slightly before sinking back down.

Your breaths synchronized, shallow and quick, as you found a steady rhythm. Spencer’s hands guided you, his palms pressing firmly on your hips before trailing back to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. You held onto his jaw as you leaned in, your lips meeting in a heated, breathless kiss. His tongue slid into your mouth and your brain turned to mush.

He kissed you hungrily while your hips continued to rise and fall, each movement driving him deeper inside you. You felt his hands roam your body, one sliding up your back to pull you closer, while the other remained on your ass, encouraging you. You moaned into his mouth, the sensation of his lips and his cock brushing your tight, inner walls making you tremble with pleasure.

You pulled back slightly, resting your forehead against his. "S-Spence..."

He nipped at your bottom lip, casually biting and pulling it between his teeth. "Mhm?"

You didn’t know why you had called out his name, only that you needed to. It was more of a reflex than anything else, a desperate need to connect as your pace quickened. He let out a low, throaty sound of pleasure as your walls clenched around him. And that was when you heard your name on his lips. It was soft, but it was enough to drive you to the edge. You rolled your hips urgently, trying to chase that familiar, blissful sensation but your thighs started to burn, your movements slowing down a little. He sensed your struggle and tightened his hands on your waist.

His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips bucking up to meet yours with force. His thrusts suddenly became more relentless, each powerful push driving him deeper inside you. The slick, wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your cunt filled the air, the squelch of your joined body punctuating with each thrust.

The pleasure built within you, coiling tighter and tighter until it was all-consuming. Finally, with one last, powerful thrust, you were both pushed over the edge. Your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm at the same time he spilled into you. His head fell back against the pillows, his eyes squeezed shut as your fingers dug into his shoulders, riding out every wave of your climax.

It took a few more minutes before you felt his body relax. You did the same, collapsing on top of him as he is hands softened their grip on you, gently caressing your back.

"Are you… okay?" You simply nodded, too tired to find your own voice. His thumb brushed your side. “Are you sure?”

You nodded again, snuggling yourself closer, feeling the weight of your body pressing down on him. He kissed the top of your head.

“I know you’re making yourself comfortable, but I really need to go to the bathroom.”

You lifted your head, meeting his eyes. “Would it bother you if I peed at the same time you clean yourself?”

The smile that spread across his face lit up his features. “Of course not.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his chest before reluctantly rolling off him. Spencer slid off the bed and reached for your hand, helping you up. You both moved to the bathroom, where Spencer headed for the sink to wash up while you made your way to the toilet.

As you sat there, you thought about how surprisingly natural this felt—almost as if you had done this before. The way he naturally kissed your cheek before exiting the bathroom didn’t feel awkward or out of place, it was oddly comforting. When you finally finished, he was already waiting for you in comfortable clothes. He stretched out his hand, and when you took it, he pulled you close. “Are you hungry?”

You found yourself nodding. “I could eat something.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll make us some sandwiches, I think I have enough stuff in the fridge,” he suggested, and then added somewhat sheepishly, “I also, um, put some fresh clothes out for you to use. I hope that’s okay.”

Your heart might burst at how adorable he was. “Thank you, Spence. That’s really sweet.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before heading to the kitchen. You picked up the clothes he had laid out for you—a soft t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, but as you held them, your gaze drifted back to the book sitting on his nightstand. Curiosity got the better of you, and you picked up the book, studying the cover.

The Narrative of John Smith.

You opened it, noticing the handwritten quote on the first page.

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone, we find it with another.” —Thomas Merton—

A sudden feeling of nausea hit you, as if you’d been punched in the gut. You flipped through the pages, trying to steady your breathing. It wasn’t the softness of the paper that greeted you as you slipped onto the next page, but the sharp edges of something hard brushing against your fingertips. You carefully pulled out what seemed to be a photograph, your heart sinking as you realized whose it was… Because right in your hand, Maeve was smiling back at you.

Maeve.

Maeve. Donovan.

Everything suddenly came crashing back, the past shooting straight to your heart. The memories, the pain, the confusion—it all flooded your mind in an instant. You remembered why you and Spencer had drifted apart, why that night had changed everything. The woman staring back at you was the reason you had shut yourself off from him in the first place.

No, it wasn’t all her fault—you’d be a heartless fool to blame a dead woman for something she couldn’t control. But she had consumed his mind. The presence she held in his life was enough to end the friendship you once had. And now, holding the photograph, you felt an overwhelming tightness in your chest that made it hard to breathe. The walls seemed to close in, the room feeling too small.

You needed to get out of here.

You quickly pulled on your clothes, the fabric feeling suffocating as you hurriedly dressed. Your movements were frantic, driven by a need to escape. You dashed out of his room, but Spencer was already standing by the bedroom door.

"I was just about to call you, the food is—hey, what's wrong?"

You walked past him, the pain constricting your chest so tightly that you could barely breathe, let alone speak. “I… I need to go,” you stammered out over your shoulder.

Spencer's face fell as he saw the distress in your eyes, his hands reaching out to stop you as you headed for the front door. He turned you to face him, and the moment he saw the tears threatening to spill, his own expression crumpled in worry.

"What happened?" he asked softly, his hands gently cupping your face. You flinched and shoved him away.

“Don’t touch me.”

You noticed the hurt in his eyes, but you barely looked at him, trying to control your own emotions. Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion. You felt the lingering warmth from the post-orgasmic rush, the serotonin still buzzing in your veins, but at the same time, the gut-wrenching pain was consuming you. The fleeting sensation you’d felt moments ago seemed like a cruel mockery now, as your heart twisted with every beat.

“You’re really leaving?”

You slowly nodded, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Just like that, after tonight?”

You remained silent, your mouth shut tight. Then you heard him mutter something under his breath, barely audible but unmistakable.

“That’s what you always do, isn’t it?”

Your eyes snapped to him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

There was a heavy silence, a beat of rising tension as his eyes narrowed at you. “You run away when things get hard.”

You stared back at him in surprise. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“Yes,” he said sharply. “Every time we get to a point where we might actually resolve something, you disappear.”

Was that really how he saw you? Someone who ran away at the first sign of trouble? The thought was a bitter pill, one that left a heavy, sour taste in your mouth.

“That’s not fair,” you protested, shaking your head as you felt the sting of tears at the corner of your eyes.

“Well, you know what’s not fair?” His voice suddenly turned a pitch higher, each word cutting through the air. “Pulling me into this—this whole fake relationship thing and then running away when it starts to mean something real.”

“What?” The accusation stung, a sharp jab to your already fragile heart. “You think this was easy for me? You think I didn’t have doubts?”

"I think you dragged me into this and now you’re scared because it’s not just a game anymore," he pressed, his eyes flashing with frustration as he stepped closer. “Every time l show that l actually care, you run away.”

“I don’t run away.”

“Yes, you do. You always bail on me,” he argued, his tone growing sharper with each word. “Just like that morning, just like now, and just like that night—”

You finally had enough.

"Don’t you dare bring that up!” You snapped. “You don’t get to use that against me. You know exactly why I had to leave!”

Spencer flinched as if he was struck. The impact of your words hit him hard, and you could see the hurt and realization dawning in his eyes. His posture sagged, the tension in his shoulders melting away as the anger drained from his face. “I know, I know,” he whispered, the regret clear in his voice. “I-I’m sorry.”

Your heart ached, the pain of old wounds reopening. The memories of that night, the way you felt invisible and helpless—it all came crashing back. You shook your head, taking a step back, needing to put distance between you. “No, I can’t do this right now.”

You turned away, desperate to escape. The walls felt like they were closing in, your chest tightening with every breath.

“Wait,” he called after you. “I’m sorry. Please… I don’t… stay, please.”

You paused slightly, but you couldn’t let yourself give in. Not when every painful memory from that night seemed to claw its way back to the surface. Not when the fear of getting hurt again loomed so large. Not when you knew if you turned back now, you might never find the strength to walk away again.

“We should end this whole thing,” you said quietly, each word feeling like a knife twisting in your heart. “I’ll tell Hotch first thing in the morning.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. The reality of what you had said sank in, and for a moment, it felt like time itself had frozen. His face fell, a look of utter devastation crossed his features as his eyes searched yours, trying to grasp at the fragments of what was left. He opened his mouth to speak, but you couldn’t bear to face him any longer.

You slowly reached for the door, wrenching it open before stepping into the cold night. You left him standing there, watching helplessly as you walked away for what felt like the hundredth time.

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zunibugsiren · 1 month ago

Text

Uprising Chapter 4

Annie felt herself slowly wake. She felt herself flush as she remembered her encounter with Smoke. She must have passed out from overstimulation.

She heard hushed voices coming from the living room.

As she got up, she looked down; a new dress on, and her nether parts were dry.

She stood up slowly and stretched before walking over to her water basin to clean her face and her teeth.

The book was real.

All her teachings and nothing could have prepared her for what transpired this morning.

Annie walked into the living room to see Smoke, Sammie, and Stack huddled up, leafing through the book.

Smoke stood up when he spotted Annie. Seeing Smoke stand, Stack and Sammie looked over and promptly stood up as well.

Annie let out a little laugh.

“I feel like a general.”

“You are the boss,” Smoke gruffly replied. He walked over, giving her a kiss before venturing into the kitchen.

Sammie pulled her to a chair, and Stack sat down once she did.

“I know we can’t read the book yet but some of the pictures we've seen, good God, Annie. Vampyres, witches, everything you can think of is in here.”

Stack turned to look at her before glancing back at the book.

“We can’t understand the book and need you to do somethin’ about that. I can damn near sense the power comin’ from this book and I need that now.”

Annie felt her anger rise.

“I’m not one of your hoes in Chicago, you understand? You do not tell me what to do. I helped you because your brother asked me kindly. Don’t think I forgot what you did. I don’t forget, so act like you got some sense and be grateful I’m giving you an iota of help.”

She stood up, heading outside to her shack.

Sammie made to follow her, but at Annie’s hand, he stayed still.

He turned to his cousin Stack.

“Why you treat Annie like that? What happened?

Stack gritted his teeth as Smoke came into view with a plate of food.

He looked around for his wife.

“Where’s Annie?”

There was a brief silence between Stack and Sammie before Stack spoke.

“She’s in her shack.”

Smoke, seeing the guilt in Sammie’s eyes, honed in on his brother.

“What did you say?”

Silence.

Smoke stepped up to his brother’s face and in a deadly whisper asked again.

“What. did. you. say?”

Smoke glared at his brother.

“I told her that she needed to do something to help us read the book.”

Before Sammie knew it, Stack was on the floor nursing a sore jaw.

“Smoke!” Sammie exclaimed, stepping towards the fighting twins. Smoke pushed the plate of food into his hands.

“Boy, go outside now!” Smoke yelled.

Sammie swiftly moved outside with the plate, heading towards Annie’s shack.

Smoke picked up Stack by his lapels and shook him aggressively.

“What’s your problem? Huh? You don’t talk to my wife like that!”

Stack struggled in his brother’s hold.

“You gon’ let her get in between us again? ” he spat.

Smoke roughly pushed his brother onto the ground, and Stack swiftly stood up.

“When has Annie ever gotten in between us? Tell me!”

The brothers circled each other.

Stack wiped the corner of his mouth that was leaking blood.

“You know she got pregnant!” he yelled.

“That’s what a wife and husband do, Stack! They have children! That’s my wife, my fuckin wife!”

“Where does that leave me? You my brother! My brother! I knew as soon as she got pregnant she was goin’ to make you change your mind about Chicago, about movin’. I knew it. We was goin’ to end up just like everybody else had we stayed.”

“That’s what this about?”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

While the brothers hashed it out, Sammie took the plate out to Annie as directed.

The sun was setting and he gently pushed the door open to Annie’s shack.

He found her mixing elixirs, deep in thought.

“Hey.”

Annie jumped sky high.

“Sammie, you damn near scared me to death.”

“ M’sorry, the twins talkin’ a couple things out, Smoke had me bring in your dinner.”

Annie had heard the yells, her shack being but a few ways from her house.

“Mmmhmm.” She took the plate with a quiet thank and went to wash her hands in her basin.

“Nobody want to tell me what happened, will you?”

Annie chuckled lifelessly.

“You know your cousins had a hard life and Stack was all Smoke had. It was hard for him to accept his brother had a woman, he felt…”

Annie searched for the words as she dried her hands.

“...abandoned.”

“Me and Smoke argued about it a lot. I got pregnant…”

She placed her hands on her stomach, her voice thickening as the tear stung her inner corners.

“...and lost the baby.”

Sammie’s throat thickened, and he turned away as he tried to rein in the tears. Annie had the baby a month early. Worry was evident on everybody’s face, but sorrow took over once she gave birth. The baby came out lifeless. Everybody remembered hearing Annie’s wails as they huddled outside her house, trying to find a way to help. It was a very quiet month in their community.

“Me and Smoke didn’t talk much after she passed. We was stuck. How I see it, Stack took the chance to encourage Smoke to leave for Chicago after the baby passed. Our grief took us different ways. Smoke to his brother, Stack, to go work, and me to drown myself in my work.”

She cleared her throat and motioned to the plate.

“Wanna eat with me?”

Sammie wordlessly grabbed a chair before digging in with Annie.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

While Sammie and Annie ate, the brothers tumbled in her home.

Smoke had a gash on his left eyebrow, while Stack sported a busted lip and a gash on his right cheek.

Both men panted as they gathered their bearings.

Smoke paused, reminiscing on how his little brother used to get beaten by their father. He had to be better. He slowly placed his hands down waiting for his brother to do the same.

Stack readied himself, taunting his brother.

“C’mon, hit me!”

Smoke stepped back, “Stop, Stack!”

“I know you holdin’ back, c’mon baby let’s go!”

“I said stop.” Smoke roared.

Stack didn’t listen and charged at his brother only to be held in a headlock.

“Stack! You gon always be my brother don’t you know that? Did you know Annie was talkin’ bout how we was going to have our plot of land and where you was goin’ build yo’ house?”

Stack stopped his struggling as his brother’s words hit him.

“Did you know Annie made a mojo bag so that I would be protected so that I can protect you? That she worked the root every day since we was gone, so that I could protect you! Smoke spat.

Smoke quickly released his brother and Stack fell on his ass.

“How ‘Uncle Stack’ was goin’ to be so protective and how the baby was goin’ to smooth things over so that you could see we was all goin’ to be family? That no one was takin’ no one away.”

Stack felt his eyes burn at the mention of his deceased niece. He was upset when Annie told everyone she was pregnant, but by her sixth month had secretly started gatherin’ clothes for the upcoming Moore.

He knew Annie was powerful that was certain.

He knew Annie loved his brother.

He didn’t know Annie cared for him and saw him as family.

He didn’t know Annie worked the root every day for them

He sat slumped, unseeing, as his brother crouched in front of him.

“Now, when she come in here, you say sorry. You hear me?”

Stack looked back at his brother in guilt and exhaustion.

Smoke arose to gather a cloth. He drenched it in water before ringing it out and handing it off to his brother.

Stack took the cloth wordlessly as he ventured outside to collect Annie and Sammie.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was nightfall by the time Annie and Sammie came back into the house.

Smoke took to cleaning his guns while Stack took to getting their clothes out.

Both brothers did their work in silence.

Sammie took to strumming the guitar that he was gifted by his cousins as he watched his cousins’ standoff.

Annie was in the kitchen reading the book, learning the spells and hexes being offered.

Suddenly, without a word, Stack walked over to Annie with a red bandana wrapped item.

Smoke tracked his movements to Annie discreetly while Sammie stared at Stack tensely.

Annie looked up to see Stack, busted lip and all offering her the item.

“I made some cornbread while you was out. You want some? It taste pretty good.”

Annie only stared at him.

“You gon’ make me say it?”, he muttered

She stared at him and tilted her head.

“I’m sorry. For everythin’. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I shouldn’t have pushed you out, I didn’t know you cared for me. All the things you did for me. You know, Smoke is all I have—”

“---used to have.”

Stack stared at her, and what Annie suddenly saw in front of her was a man, too scared to be vulnerable. Her eyes softened.

“...used to have,” Stack repeated softly.

Annie took the cornbread out of his hands, took a bite, and grinned.

“Its good.”

“Yeah?”

“It could use a little more sugar and maybe not so much butter—”

Stack exploded into laughter.

Sammie released the breath he was holding and resumed strumming his guitar, while Smoke let his eyes fall back to his gun cleaning.

Sammie suddenly stood up and walked over to Smoke.

“When y’all going to open up the juke joint. It’s been two days now since y’all bought it. Now with this book business done with, I wanna play some.”

Smoke looked at his cousin with a little irritation.

“Ain’t no book business done with, but we gon’ open that juke tomorrow. We gon need the space for what’s to come.”

Annie looked at her husband and swiftly walked over handing Stack the book. Stack followed en suite.

“What you thinkin’?”

Stack looked at his brother and knew.

“He plan on building an army.”

Smoke finished cleaning his gun and placed it back in his bag.

“Every man, woman, and child will be educated. Now, what we need to do is plan logistics.”

“I found a translation spell. You’ll be able to view the words in English, but it’ll remain Ifa. This is temporary, so y’all will have to get to learnin’.”

“The 1st lesson is happenin’ tonight.”

The men followed her into the livin’ room.

“I need the room to be cleared.”

Without another word, the men pushed away the chairs, tables and sofas to the very edge of the room.

“Before you start a spell, you need to cleanse the area. Burning sage or salt can do.”

Annie sprinkled the salt in a circle.

“I need a match.”

Stack pulled out his matches and gave them to her, before stepping back.

Annie promptly lit the circle, causing the salt to burn quickly before fizzing out.

Stack handed Annie the book, watching her speak incantations.

The candles that were burning flickered before righting themselves.

“What kind of spell was that?” Sammie asked.

“It’s a protection spell. I called on our ancestors—”

Annie was interrupted by a knock on the door.

She paused, “It’s damn near nine o’clock, who the hell is outside?”

Smoke and Stack shared a look, neither said anything as they gathered their weapons.

Annie said nothing but stood behind her husband as he walked to her door.

There was another knock, and Smoke called out.

“Who is it?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m just lookin’ for a place for me to stay the night. I was robbed.”

Smoke looked back and at the slight nod from Annie opened the door with his 45’ cocked and at the ready.

There stood a white man, bloodied and beat up, his clothes torn as though he had indeed been robbed.

“Please, sir, I can pay you the night for a stay in your home.”

He pulled out coins but the dark night made them unclear.

Stack pulled up to his brother’s right side, he wasn’t amused.

“What’s your name again?”

“Remmick, sir.”

#black fanfiction #x black reader #black reader smut #black!reader #sinners 2025 #michael b jordan #x black y/n

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mamasturn · 1 year ago

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how many drinks? benny cross

pairing: benny cross x black fem oc (sennett aliah) summary: she's new in town and the infamous biker benny cross invites her for drinks. warning: suggestive themes. light language. tags: @faephoria @thetaoofzoe @turn-thy-paige @contrarybeliefs @qveendiorsworld @blukit04 @neewrites

She was in a new era of life. Single, childless, and without any burden on her shoulders. On her way through a town with whom she knew not a soul. It was quite bold of her, she had to admit. To trudge into a small town in the heart of Illinois with a smaller Black population than the spectacles on the bottom of her shoe, from a city in Georgia where everywhere she turned, someone looked like her.

She was far from nervous or afraid. The most they could do was call her out her name, but who was she to get bent out of shape over misplaced anger and lack of intelligence? No one.

So, she packed her car with her belongings, drove to Illinois, sweet talked her way into a small house for less than it was worth, and began to make herself at home. Home. As best as she could, she figured.

She kept in contact with her mother and cousin, who both cursed her for going to Illinois, but praised her courage and determination. She’d done what they never would have dreamed of.

After a long day of packing and sweating like a dog, she took a cold shower, shoved her legs into a pair of old Levi’s jeans, threw a distressed cropped shirt on, slipped on her boots, and hopped into her 1952 convertible.

Her dark hair blew in the wind as she cruised down the street, no care for the speed limit sign. She glanced at the speedometer. 67 in a 25 wasn’t bad, right? Her fingertips drummed along the body of the car as she hummed along to the song playing through the static radio.

If you’re looking for trouble…you’ve come to the right place.

She’d heard of a bar in town from a group of men at the gas station. Owned and oftentimes filled by outlaw bikers from Chicago. Dangerous guys, the men insisted. To stay clear of at all times. While she wasn’t easily scared, she wouldn’t do what her heart desired to do. She’d be on her best behavior; just get a drink or two, flirt with a man with a scruffy beard, and go back home to look for jobs in the paper. A solid plan, she thought.

It seemed like the world grew silent when the door of her convertible slammed shut. All eyes were on her. By their facial expressions, she knew what they were thinking. Who the hell is she? An unfamiliar woman with an unfamiliar face. It didn’t phase her. She simply gave a raspy, “Hello,” and tried to brush past the lunkheads at the door who refused to make it easy for her to enter.

“What’re you doing?” One of them asked roughly. Her eyes dropped and her lips straightened. The tough-guy act wasn’t threatening; it didn’t put the fear of God in her heart. Hell, she could have laughed at how their chests blew up like a balloon and their arms crossed over them.

“I want a drink. Heard this was the place to be,” she said simply with a shrug. She stood on her toes for a moment to eye the scenery behind them. Men and women in the corners, bikers’ wives gossipping over cigarettes and cold beer, the sound of balls colliding against each other on the pool table. “So, can I come in?”

The lunkheads glanced at once another. They were prepared to say no. She could see it by the way their tongues lifted against the roof of their mouths and their lips rounded. She rolled her eyes in frustration. What the hell did a girl have to do to get a drink around here?

“You know what, forget it.” She threw her hands up in surrender and prepared to walk away. She spent hours driving and even more time unpacking, the last thing she wanted to deal with was a lunkhead rejecting her from the bar, especially when she had money she was willing to spend on a drink.

Then suddenly, she heard a voice say. “She’s with me. Let her in.” Her head bounced like a spring. The owner of the voice stood behind the lunkheads. He nodded toward the entrance and she knew better than to think too long, so she smiled slyly at the men outside and brushed past them. “Thank you, boys.”

This was the place to be, she noted. The smell of smoke and strong liquor burned her nose and she loved it. Her eyes closed as she inhaled deeply. Finally. She was brought out of her fantasy world when he asked, “Do you want a drink?” His voice was hardly above a whisper, but his blue eyes on hers forced her attention to be directed to him. She nodded.

He led her to the bar which was crowded but they were swift to move out the way for Benny, she heard them call him, and some pretty thing from around the way. At that, she became the star of the evening. The men glanced at her like they wanted to eat her or kill her, and the women tilted their heads in interest as to who she was. She chose not to respond. Nothing would keep her from getting the buzz she so rightfully deserved.

“Pick your poison,” he said, pointing toward the wall of neatly organized liquor behind Johnny, who took on serving for the time being.

“Whiskey neat,” she told Johnny, whose eyebrows raised. The corner of her lips turned upward. “Need something strong.”

Johnny chuckled, “You got it, darlin’.”

The man, Benny, wasn’t a man of many words, she noticed. He only spoke when he needed to. She presumed he was a man of action. He had to be if rather than asking her a million and one questions at the door, he simply told the guards to let her in. Rather than asking her what she wanted, he told her to pick for herself. A man of action, she noted.

He was incredibly handsome, too. She had never seen herself finding herself attracted to a man again after her split from her husband a year prior. But Benny, he was a sight for sore eyes. Dirty blonde hair styled messily, daunting blue eyes, and a scruffy beard. Lord, she was a goner for beards.

She appreciated the dirt on his boots, rips in his jeans, and crinkled in his cut. A seasoned biker. She’d never been with a biker before. Was it worth what the women in here giggled and blushed over when their men walked in the room and gave them a wink? She wondered how bad she’d be for wanting to find out.

“You’ve got a wandering eye,” he said after some time. He didn’t look at her as he said it. His eyes were trained on the liquid he swirled in his short glass. She should’ve been embarrassed for getting caught but she was far from it. “You stare at strangers often?”

She smiled slyly. “Just the ones who get me a drink. Which, I appreciate, by the way. Haven’t been able to find a decent joint all day.” She thanked Johnny who’d handed her a drink and knocked it back in one go. That caught Benny’s attention. How she didn’t flinch when it went down her throat. How her full lips pursed just slightly, how a drop of whiskey escaped her lips and slid off her cheek down her neck until it settled at the valley of her breasts. He sighed deeply.

“Look who’s starting now, Benny,” she teased. For the first time that night, Benny met her eyes. God, he was so beautiful. She’d grab him and lick the drop of whiskey right off his lips. He beat her to the punch. She was jealous of his lip; having the ability to be caressed by his tongue.

“Never caught your name,” Benny said, not directly addressing her comment. He nodded at Johnny, who had filled both their glasses. “I’d assume it compliments that unique personality of yours.”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder, a smile spreading across her blood-red lips. “Sennett.”

Benny nodded, intrigued. Sennett. She was something spicy. She moved without a care in the world. She was bold and free. He knew from the moment she strutted to the door after hopping out of her convertible that she was a force to be reckoned with. He wanted to reckon with it.

“Sennett.” Her name tasted tangy on his tongue. Like a piece of sour candy that he knew would cause a tinge of discomfort before it got delicious. With his hands folded on the table, he asked, “How many drinks do you think you’re having tonight, Sennett?"

She shivered. “How ever many you’re willing to treat me to.”

His eyebrow raised in interest, “Good.”

She knew how to handle her liquor, but it didn’t mean that it didn’t affect her in more ways than one. Liquid courage was a beautiful thing. It had her pressed against a wall in a dimly lit closet filled with dust and cobwebs but she didn’t mind it at all.

Benny was mysterious. So mysterious and so under the radar that she didn’t expect his boldness and assertiveness to boil over the way it did. He had his hand wrapped around her throat as he claimed ownership over her lips with a dominance and intentionality that knocked the wind out of her chest.

Her red nails combed through his dirty blonde hair and tugged at the roots. Her body was on fire, lit up like a flame. She could feel the sweat gather at her forehead and droplets slid down the valley of her breasts. The throbbing between her thighs pounded like a drum. She was desparate to soothe the ache and used his thigh to rid the tension building within her.

Benny chuckled against her lips, snaking his hand between their bodies. His calloused fingers caressed her stomach, his thumb and forefinger tugging at her belly ring. She winced. Then, they dropped to the crevice between her thighs. Her jeans were thick but she could feel the warmth of his fingertips grazing her clit and she jolted. “Benny…”

His lips fell to her neck and she moaned loudly. He nipped and sucked until her chest and collarbone were bruised. Against her skin he whispered, “Not here…not now.” She released a guttural groan of frustration. Sennett could appreciate a man with logic, but goodness, all she wanted to do was have him take her right then and there.

“Why not?”

Benny broke away from her. His arm stayed wrapped around her waist with his hand stroking her backside. His right thumb swiped along the sides of her mouth to wipe away the remnants of their oral tango. “Cause contrary to popular belief, I’m a man of class.” His words were stoic but she heard the playfulness in them. “And uh, a closet isn’t comfy for anybody.”

Sennett’s hand didn’t fall from his hair and his didn’t fall from her waist. She hummed and nodded once. “Well, we’ll see how many drinks it takes you to take me in a closet next time, yeah?”

His eyebrow raised. A force to be reckoned with for sure.

#black authors #austin butler x reader #austin butler x black!reader #austin butler #writers and authors #black!reader #support black writers #benny cross #the bikeriders #benny the bikeriders #benny cross x reader #benny cross x black reader #benny x you #benny x reader #benny cross x black!reader

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brownsugarcoffy · 1 month ago

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Soul & Sanguine (3)

Summary

1976. Chicago.

Jackie Dubois, a confident and ambitious woman from a small town in North Carolina, has come to the city with big dreams of making a name for herself. But her reality is far from the glamorous Hollywood life she imagined. She’s stuck working as a waitress at The Pharaoh’s Den, an exclusive nightclub with an electric vibe and a dark undercurrent. The club’s owner, Elias "Stacks" Moore, is every bit the enigma—smooth-talking, dangerous, and impossible to ignore. On the outside, he’s just another businessman, but behind the scenes? He’s a vampire who rules a world of blood, power, and temptation.

As Jackie gets drawn deeper into the tantalizing and dangerous world of the club, she starts to realize there’s far more at play than she ever imagined. Stacks sees something in her—something he’s willing to help her cultivate, but at a cost. He offers her a deal: the chance to rise to the stardom she’s always dreamed of, but accepting it means stepping into a world of darkness, immortality, and secrets she isn’t prepared for.

Characters: Jackie Dubois(OC) x Stacks" Elias" Moore (Vampire/ 70's gangster)

Warning: Blood, Vulgar Language, Violence, Sexual content & more...

Chapters: PART 1 , PART 2

------‐------------------------------‐--‐--------------------------------

Jackie stood at the sink in the tiny backstage bathroom, dabbing a warm cloth along her neck and collarbone. The liquor she spilled earlier clung stubbornly to her skin. Her reflection in the cracked mirror stared back, worn but still composed. She pressed her lips together, smoothing out the gloss.

The shift was over.

She should’ve felt relieved.

Marietta was still in the dressing room, changing out of her corset and sequined tights. Jackie had already peeled off her uniform, now back in jeans and a black turtleneck, hair pinned back under her headscarf. Her heels dangled from her fingers as walked out the bathroom. She was going to head to the bar to take a seat and wait for Marietta, so they could head back to the apartment together just like they did every night.

Jackie didn’t have her own place yet. She was new to the city, new to all of it. The lights, the clubs, the sharp-eyed men with expensive shoes and smoke trailing from their lips. It was nothing like home. It was louder. Faster. But she was learning. Marietta’s apartment wasn’t much. It was just a two-bedroom with a squeaky floor and radiator that clicked all night, but it was warm. And it was something. Jackie was grateful for that.

After Marietta and her conversation earlier, Jackie had kept her head down and gone back to work.

Stacks hadn’t returned.

But his crew had lingered and spread out at the corner booth like they owned it. Watching. Laughing too loud. Tipping too little. She kept the drinks full and the smile fixed, just like Marietta told her. Don’t ask questions. Don’t catch attitudes. Don’t flirt too much, don’t flirt too little.

It was a tightrope walk. But she could do it.

Because no matter what, Jackie needed this job.

She needed to save money. Needed to figure out how she was going to get to Los Angeles. That dream wasn’t going to pay for itself, and neither was the acting class she’d just started downtown. Tuesday and Thursday nights. She’d already missed the first one after arriving in Chicago late, and she couldn't afford to miss another.

So if all it took was a little grace and a little silence to keep the boss and his boys off her back?

Then she’d keep her mouth shut.

For now.

Jackie glanced toward the door as it creaked open, and Marietta peeked her head in. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Jackie said, slipping on her shoes. “Let’s go.”

As they walked out of the club and into the cool night air, Jackie pulled her coat tighter around her. She didn’t look back. But the weight of eyes still lingered at the nape of her neck.

The city buzzed low and quiet around them, streetlights flickering overhead like sleepy fireflies. Jackie shoved her hands into her coat pockets as she and Marietta walked side by side, the night cool but not quite cold. The hush between them had stretched out since they left The Pharaoh’s Den, and Jackie was starting to feel it more with every block.

“You good?” she finally asked, glancing over.

Marietta gave her a soft, absent smile. “Yeah, just tired.”

Jackie nodded, but didn’t buy it. She’d seen Marietta work late nights before—she was usually still cracking jokes by the end of them, maybe humming a little, always tapping out choreography with her fingers even when she was spent. But tonight?

Marietta had been quiet. Real quiet.

Jackie figured maybe it was the show. That last number she did on stage was a beast. Her cousin moved like silk dipped in fire—she had the whole place spellbound. Jackie would’ve clapped if her hands weren’t full of drinks and tension. And maybe that was it. Maybe Marietta had just danced herself into exhaustion.

Jackie didn’t press. She didn’t want to seem needy or annoying. She still felt like a guest in Marietta’s world, even if they were blood. So instead she focused on the click of their heels and the sounds of the city trying to fall asleep around them.

But Marietta’s mind was screaming.

She kept her eyes forward, posture tight, jaw set. Jackie couldn’t know. Not yet. Maybe not ever. How could she even explain it?

Stacks had summoned her right after their talk in the dressing room. She hadn’t even had time to reapply her lipstick before one of his men told her, “Boss wants a word.” She followed them, legs heavy, stomach tight.

He wanted Jackie.

Bring her to my penthouse party tomorrow night.

Just like that. Like she was a piece of fruit he saw and decided he wanted a bite.

Marietta had stood still, her voice caught in her throat. She didn’t yell. Didn’t argue. She didn’t dare. Not with him.

Because she had seen what he was. She still had nightmares about it. Still smelled iron and sweat and cigarette smoke when the memory crept too close.

But now he wanted Jackie.

And Marietta didn’t know what to do.

She glanced at her cousin out of the corner of her eye. Jackie’s eyes were bright, face fresh despite the long night..

Marietta’s stomach twisted.

Was she really about to sell her cousin out to the devil?

Could she live with that?

Could she survive if she didn’t?

They reached the apartment and started climbing the narrow stairs. Jackie finally spoke again. “You sure you’re okay?”

Marietta unlocked the door without looking at her. “Yeah. I’m just thinking about stuff.”

Jackie followed her inside, kicking off her shoes. “Well, if you wanna talk or anything…”

“I’m fine, Jackie,” Marietta cut in, sharper than she meant.

Jackie blinked, surprised. Then nodded slowly, lips pressed tight. “Alright.”

The silence that followed wasn’t just quiet. It was thick.

Marietta sat on the couch, fingers gripping her knees, eyes unfocused. Jackie disappeared into the back, probably to shower or write in that little notebook she kept hidden under her pillow. Marietta leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Debating.

Tomorrow night was coming.

And Stacks would be waiting.

Saturday morning crept in through the curtains like it didn’t want to be there. The city buzzed beyond the windows, faint horns and the rumble of the train nearby. Marietta sat at the kitchen table, her untouched cup of coffee cooling by the second, her hands balled into fists in the robe draped around her.

She’d been up for hours.

Sleep had danced just out of reach all night, slipping past her the second she closed her eyes. Every time she got close, she saw Jackie’s face and Stacks’ cold, unreadable eyes.

Her stomach churned.

She remembered the way Stacks leaned back in that leather chair, his voice smooth and low. “Bring your cousin. Penthouse. Party.”

Just a party. The same way a vulture just circled the sky.

Nothing was just anything when it came to Stacks.

Marietta knew what that meant. With Stacks, everything came with strings, even if you couldn’t see them right away. He never yelled, never threatened. He didn’t need to. His power came in whispers and choices that weren’t really choices at all. When he spoke, it felt like the room itself bent to his will.

Marietta had followed it for years.

But this was different. He wanted Jackie.

Jackie wasn’t like her. She was soft around the edges, hopeful, still green in the ways of this world. Still believed that dreams could come true if you worked hard and smiled enough. She wasn’t ready for Stacks. She wasn’t ready for what that party might mean.

And yet…

Marietta had nothing left to bargain with. If she said no, if she didn’t show up with Jackie tonight, she knew what would happen. Maybe not right away. Maybe not loud. But Stacks would make his disappointment known. Quiet punishments. A shift in power. A reminder.

Marietta squeezed her eyes shut and cursed under her breath. Jackie had no idea what world she’d stepped into. Wide-eyed, new to the city, still believing hard work and heart would be enough. Marietta remembered being that girl once. Before Timothy. Before blood on her hands. Before Stacks.

She shuddered, recalling the night her life changed forever.

Timothy, her then-boyfriend had crossed the wrong man, trying to steal from Stacks. She warned him. He didn’t listen. So Stacks made an example out of him. He didn't just kill him. He tore into him and ripped his throat open with inhuman strength, eyes glowing like burning coals.

That night, Marietta screamed until she couldn’t breathe.

That night, Stacks told her if she kept quiet, if she let the past die with her ex, he’d give her the life she wanted.

And he did.

She became the Pharaoh’s Den’s leading dancer. Private rehearsals. Costume budgets. Big spenders asking for her by name. He kept his word.

But now he was calling in another favor and this time, it had Jackie’s name on it.

And it wouldn’t just be her who paid the price.

Jackie needed her job. She needed every dollar she could stack to get to Los Angeles. Marietta knew what happened to girls who crossed Stacks or failed him. The best-case scenario was being blacklisted from every decent club in the city. Worst case?

Marietta didn’t want to think about it.

She rubbed her temples, dragging in a slow, trembling breath. She didn’t want to do this.

But she had to.

Because protecting Jackie might mean playing the part and smiling through her teeth and making sure her cousin stayed close, kept her drink in hand, and didn’t wander too far into the shadows of Stacks’ world.

Maybe she could talk to Stacks. Make him see reason. Lay down boundaries. Keep Jackie out of reach. Maybe…

Her thoughts shattered when Jackie walked in, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, wearing a tank top and pajama shorts.

“Morning,” Jackie mumbled.

Marietta straightened up quickly, hiding the tightness in her chest with a half-smile. “Hey. You sleep okay?”

Jackie shrugged, grabbing a mug and pouring herself some of the lukewarm coffee. “Not really. I kept thinking about last night.”

Marietta’s heart skipped.

Jackie leaned against the counter, frowning thoughtfully. “You were acting weird.”

Marietta forced a small laugh. “Weird how?”

“Just…off. Quiet. Distant. You always tell me to keep my eyes open in that place, and then you go all silent on me.”

Marietta looked down at her coffee. “Yeah. Sorry. I was just tired.” She wasn’t ready to tell her the truth. Maybe she never would be.

Jackie yawned and poured another splash of coffee. “That guy from last night. Stacks, right? He never came back after our little…chat.”

Marietta’s stomach twisted.

Jackie added with a shrug, “Probably for the best. I didn’t like the way he talked to me. But I ain’t stupid. I’ll play it smart.”

That only made Marietta feel worse. Jackie had no clue how dangerous charm could be in this city. They sat in silence for a moment before Marietta finally cleared her throat.

“There’s a party tonight,” she said softly.

Jackie looked up. “Where?”

“At the penthouse. Stacks is throwing it.”

Jackie raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “And why would we be invited to his party?”

Marietta set her mug down and folded her hands. “Because it’s a good opportunity. There’ll be actors, producers, people with money. People who can open doors.”

Jackie frowned. “You think it’s a good idea? Me going?”

Marietta’s chest ached. She wanted to scream No. She wanted to say, You’re not ready. You’re not for sale. You don’t belong in that world, not yet, not ever.

But instead she said, “It’s just a party. You don’t have to do anything but show up, smile, and let them see you. I’ll be there the whole time.”

Jackie studied her for a long moment. She looked unsure and rightfully so, but Marietta could also see the hunger in her cousin’s eyes. The longing. The dream that had brought her to Chicago in the first place.

Jackie sighed. “Alright. I’ll go. But only if you stick with me.”

Marietta nodded, pushing the guilt deeper into her gut. “Of course.”

She turned away so Jackie wouldn’t see the shame in her eyes.

Because deep down, she knew once they walked into that penthouse, they’d cross a line there’d be no coming back from.

Jackie stepped out first, heels clicking against the curb, her breath catching as she looked up at the building. She had never seen anything like it. The lobby alone, visible through the tall glass doors, looked like a museum. It had white marble floors, a chandelier that sparkled like dripping diamonds, and a concierge in a navy suit standing like a sentry behind polished mahogany.

Marietta stepped out behind her, adjusting the strap of her silver clutch, her eyes already scanning their surroundings. Her usual confidence was buried beneath layers of nerves and makeup.

Jackie smoothed her dress. A velvet burgundy number that clung to her in all the right places. Marietta had picked it out from her own collection, saying Jackie needed something “elegant but unforgettable.” Her hair was swept up in soft waves, and her lips painted a deep wine-red. She looked every inch the rising star, but her stomach flipped as they approached the doors.

“Damn,” she murmured, breath fogging the air. “This building looks like it belongs in a movie.”

“Come on,” Marietta said quietly, nodding toward the doors.

The glass doors slid open smoothly as they approached, and a subtle floral scent wafted out to meet them. Jackie swallowed. The space felt like a whole different world: quiet, curated, expensive.

They were greeted with a nod from the concierge, who clearly knew they were expected. He didn’t ask for their names. Just silently gestured toward the private elevator tucked in a corner of the lobby.

Inside the elevator, Jackie stood beside Marietta, heart ticking a little faster than she liked to admit. “This building is insane,” she said softly, eyes tracing the glowing control panel and mirrored walls. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a place like this. I feel like I’m about to meet somebody famous.”

Marietta gave a tight smile but said nothing.

The elevator rose with a smooth whisper, carrying them upward until a soft chime signaled their arrival. The doors opened to reveal an entirely different kind of luxury.

The penthouse spread before them like a palace in the clouds. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed off the entire city skyline, glittering and endless. Jazz music played low from somewhere inside, and the air smelled faintly of champagne, perfume, and something darker, something unplaceable but expensive.

The space was bathed in golden lighting, reflecting off glass tables and dark wood floors. Plush chairs, velvet couches, sleek art pieces and tall candlelit shelves filled the room in a way that said wealth without a single word.

Men in sharp suits leaned near the bar, while women in silk and diamonds moved effortlessly through the room, laughter curling in the air like smoke. Jackie glanced around, unsure of where to step or how to stand. It felt like one wrong move could shatter the illusion.

Reggie appeared near a corner lounge, his deep navy blazer gleaming under the lights, a glass of something amber and strong in his hand. He approached them casually, a smile tucked in the corner of his mouth.

“Ladies,” he greeted. “Looking real nice tonight. Come on in. You’re right on time.”

Marietta nodded, her hand gently pressing Jackie’s back as they walked deeper into the party. Jackie glanced sideways at her cousin, frowning slightly.

“You okay?” she asked. “You’ve been quiet since we left the club.”

“I’m just tired,” Marietta answered, keeping her eyes forward. “Long night.”

Jackie let it go, but the tension wasn’t lost on her. The way Marietta kept scanning the room, how stiff her posture was, this wasn’t just about a party. Still, Jackie reminded herself why she came: to make connections, to maybe be seen by someone who could open a door.

Nearly twenty minutes had passed since they’d arrived at the penthouse, and Jackie found herself caught in a spirited conversation with a small circle of women. Most were dancers from The Pharaoh’s Den—girls she recognized from backstage chatter and smoky dressing rooms. But sprinkled among them were others who stood a little straighter, spoke with a certain theater-trained confidence, and wore gowns that whispered money. Broadway performers. Showgirls. Women who had been in the game longer than she had been alive, yet still radiated glamour like it was stitched into their skin.

Jackie tried to keep up, laughing when appropriate, nodding politely, sipping champagne much slower than the others. Her cousin Marietta stood close by, smiling and laughing along, but Jackie noticed something strange beneath the gloss of her expression, something guarded. She couldn’t quite place it.

The penthouse itself was a vision. High ceilings with gilded trim, crystal chandeliers hanging like floating galaxies above them, and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a view of Chicago’s nighttime skyline. Jackie had never seen anything so opulent. Her heels clicked against marble floors, and the air smelled of expensive perfume and something deeper like old secrets sealed behind velvet drapes.

She turned her attention back to the group just as soft murmurs swept through the room like wind brushing silk.

Then she saw him.

Stacks.

He’d just entered through the tall double doors with a quiet authority that didn’t need to announce itself. People noticed. Conversations dropped. Bodies shifted. His crew followed behind him, all sharp suits and watchful eyes, but it was Stacks who commanded the space like a god surveying his temple.

Jackie remembered him instantly, the man from her first shift, the one who had spoken to her like she was background noise. At the time, she’d been too flustered, too thrown by his tone and presence to take in anything else. But here, under the golden lights, with his face clear and fully visible, she saw him.

And he was…

His skin was smooth, rich like dark cedarwood. His eyes were two heavy coins of bronze rimmed with shadow, watching everything, revealing nothing. His suit clung to him in the way only custom-tailored cloth could, and his features were so precise, so ruthless in their beauty, it made her breath catch. He looked like the kind of man women wrote poetry about and the kind who’d never read it.

Jackie hated herself a little for noticing.

Yes, he was gorgeous. But he was also the same man who had dismissed her without a second glance. The memory of his cold, clipped voice still echoed in her chest. No warmth. No curiosity. Just command.

And yet… something about him pulled at her. Maybe it was the way the room tilted slightly in his presence. Or the way even the most poised dancers seemed to readjust their posture when he walked past. He didn’t have to speak to be dangerous. He didn’t have to smile to be noticed.

She didn’t realize she was staring until Marietta’s fingers gripped her wrist gently but firmly.

“Jackie,” her cousin whispered, the smile never leaving her lips. “Stop staring.”

“I wasn’t—” Jackie turned her eyes away, heat creeping up her neck. “I wasn’t looking like that.”

Marietta leaned in just slightly, her voice a low hum. “You don’t want to look at him in any kind of way.”

Jackie swallowed, forcing her eyes back to the women’s circle. The laughter had resumed, but her focus had not. Stacks now stood near the bar, saying little, sipping something dark. Every now and then, someone would approach him, a man with a briefcase, a woman with a diamond choker and he would listen, nod once, then move on. It was clear he didn’t owe this room anything. If anything, the room owed him.

Jackie reached for her champagne again, trying to still the fluttering in her chest.

Whatever else Stacks was, he wasn’t just a club owner. And Jackie was beginning to wonder if he was the kind of man who could ruin lives without ever raising his voice

Jackie had just taken another sip of her champagne when a shadow cut across the circle of women, silencing their easy laughter.

It was Reggie.

Stacks’ right-hand man. Always dressed sharp, with eyes that scanned a room the way a wolf surveys a clearing before striking.

“Marietta,” Reggie said smoothly, ignoring the rest of the women as if they were mannequins. “Boss would like a word.”

Jackie felt Marietta stiffen beside her, the hand resting on her champagne flute going still. For the briefest second, Jackie swore she saw something flicker behind her cousin’s eyes. Dread? Resignation?

Then it was gone.

Marietta smiled. “Of course,” she said, the words honeyed, her voice like silk stretched over stone. She placed her glass on a nearby table, her other hand gently curling around Jackie’s forearm.

“You’re coming too,” Reggie added, this time turning his gaze to Jackie.

Jackie blinked. “Me?”

Reggie didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The look he gave her said enough.

Marietta nodded quickly, her fingers tightening around Jackie’s arm before she could protest. “Let’s go, Jacks.”

They walked across the penthouse, heels echoing against the marble, moving through currents of perfume and curiosity. Jackie could feel eyes on them, some amused, some knowing. She kept her chin high, but her stomach had begun to knot.

Stacks stood near the massive windows, backlit by the pulse of the Chicago skyline, its golden lights flickering like a low flame behind him. He barely moved when Marietta and Jackie approached, his broad frame outlined in quiet authority. He sipped slowly from a tumbler of dark liquor, then set it down on the marble console with a soft clink.

Marietta’s fingers were still curled lightly around Jackie’s arm, but Jackie felt her cousin’s grip tighten the closer they came. Jackie couldn’t help but wonder—why did Marietta seem tenser than usual? Her usual poise was now locked behind a tight-lipped smile.

Stacks turned. His eyes cut through the two women like headlights through fog. He looked at Marietta first briefly, with familiarity before shifting his attention to Jackie.

The weight of his gaze landed hard.

He gave Jackie a long, assessing look. No smirk. No wink. Just a quiet inspection, like she was a painting he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to buy or burn.

“You clean up nice,” he finally said, voice low and even. “I barely recognized you from the club.”

Jackie tilted her chin slightly, unsure whether it was a compliment or a reminder. “Thank you,” she said, guarded but polite.

Marietta took a small step forward. “You said you wanted to see us?”

Stacks raised an eyebrow. “I did.”

He gestured toward the hallway leading to a private elevator. “I’ve got people upstairs. Producers. Club owners. Vegas talent scouts. They’re asking for you, Marietta.”

Marietta hesitated. “Both of us?”

“No,” he said plainly. “Just you.”

Marietta could feel the heat rising beneath her skin, even though her face remained composed. As soon as Stacks mentioned “upstairs,” she knew exactly what game he was playing.

He wanted to separate them.

It was never just about business with him. It was about control. Always.

She had made Jackie a promise earlier that night they wouldn’t split up. But promises didn’t carry weight in Stacks’s world. He snapped his fingers, and the whole room bent to his will.

Marietta’s jaw tightened slightly before she forced a soft smile. She turned to Jackie and touched her arm lightly.

“I’ll be back,” she said, low and careful.

Jackie blinked at her. “I thought we were—”

“I know,” Marietta cut in quickly, her eyes flicking toward Stacks and then back. “Things changed. I won’t be long.”

Her voice was smooth, but the tension behind her eyes betrayed her. Jackie could feel something wasn’t right, but didn’t know what. Couldn’t know.

Stacks stood with the quiet confidence of someone who already knew no one was going to say no to him. “Go on up, Marietta,” he said. “They’re waiting.”

There was no malice in his voice. No raised tone. But it was a command wrapped in silk.

Marietta swallowed the knot in her throat and nodded. She didn’t look at Jackie again as she walked away because she couldn’t. If she did, she’d fold.

Stacks turned his full attention to Jackie, who stood in place like someone unsure whether to step forward or turn back. She felt a little awkward now, just standing there in her borrowed heels and tailored dress. Around them, the quiet murmur of jazz spilled from the speakers, and across the penthouse, clusters of beautiful people laughed over champagne.

“You don’t have to just stand there,” he said to herself, trying to shake the edge off. Stacks raised a brow. “You can mingle if you’d like,” he said evenly. “But I was hoping you’d stay.”

Jackie hesitated. “Why?”

He stepped a little closer, his voice low. “Because I want to get to know who’s working in my house.”

The air tightened.

Jackie looked at him then, really looked at him. The first time they’d met, she hadn’t picked up on how handsome he actually was. That was likely because he was being rude and ordering her around like she was furniture. But here, under the warm amber lights, without the smoke and music of the Pharaoh’s Den blurring his features, Jackie could see it sharp jawline, thick mustache, eyes that glinted like polished metal.

Still, the man had an arrogance about him. Something untouchable and simmering beneath the surface. Even now, as he spoke kindly, something about him felt more predator than patron.

Jackie sank into the plush velvet cushions of the couch, the coolness of the fabric kissing her bare legs. Her posture was poised, legs crossed at the ankles like her mother had taught her. “Always sit like you know the room belongs to you, even if you just walked in.” She can hear her mother voice in the back of her head.

Stacks took his time. He didn’t flop down or lean back casually. He settled beside her with the grace of someone used to commanding a room, his arm resting along the back of the couch, not touching her, but close enough she could feel the heat radiating off him.

For a moment, the two sat in silence, the soft clink of champagne glasses and the laughter of other partygoers floating in the background. Jackie kept her eyes forward, scanning the glamorous crowd, but aware of every inch of the man beside her.

“I owe you an apology,” Stacks said suddenly, his voice a low murmur, intimate despite the open room.

Jackie blinked. “Oh?”

He nodded slowly. “Back at the club. I was short with you. Dismissive.”

She turned her head to look at him then, one brow rising slightly. “That’s one way to describe it.”

Stacks gave a soft, almost amused exhale. “I tend to be… direct. It’s part of how I run things. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have shown more respect.”

Jackie held his gaze for a beat. His tone was smooth, careful. Almost too careful.

“Well,” she said, slowly. “Thanks for that.”

He waited, like he expected more. Maybe a softening in her eyes, a flirtatious curve of the mouth. But Jackie wasn’t interested in stroking his ego. She needed this job, sure, but she wasn’t going to fawn over someone who barked at her like she was disposable just days ago.

Still, she was smart enough to keep her real thoughts in check. She offered him a tight-lipped smile. “Water under the bridge.”

But her body language said otherwise. Her spine stayed straight, arms lightly folded in her lap. Her tone was calm, but her eyes didn’t drop submissively the way many others might have.

Stacks noticed.

“You seem smarter than you act,” he said.

Jackie blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You’re quiet. You watch people. You don’t talk unless there’s something worth saying.” He studied her face. “That tells me a lot.”

Jackie’s hands tightened around her small clutch purse. “I try not to get in anyone’s way.”

Stacks smiled faintly. “That’s why you’re still standing here.”

The silence stretched. He walked over to a crystal liquor and poured himself another drink then offered her one.

She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

He sipped slowly. “Suit yourself.”

Jackie looked away for a moment toward the high ceilings, the gold-accented trim, the artwork hanging like secrets on the wall. This place was nothing like where she’d come from. She’d never been around this much wealth. And now, the man who ruled it all was watching her like a chess piece.

Stacks moved back to her, his voice quieter this time. “You ever wonder why your cousin gets top billing at the club?”

Jackie turned to him again, slowly. “She works hard.”

“She does,” he agreed. “But I made her.”

Jackie’s stomach dropped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He swirled the drink in his glass, then took a final sip before setting it down. “It means I see potential. And I invest in what I see.”

His gaze settled on her once more. It was heavy and unreadable.

“You could be something too. If you like.”

Jackie didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure she could.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze traveling over her like he was trying to read a deeper page. “You don’t trust me.”

“I don’t know you,” she said plainly.

“Fair enough.” He sat back a little, draping his arm fully along the couch’s backrest. “But you will.”

Jackie’s pulse flickered at that. The words weren’t threatening exactly, but they felt heavy like a lock sliding into place.

She turned her eyes back to the crowd, focusing on a showgirl in glittering fringe laughing with one of the Pharaoh’s Den bouncers.

“Do you always have your girls around after hours like this?” she asked, redirecting the conversation.

“Not always,” he answered. “Only when I want to know who’s worth my time.”

Jackie stayed quiet, swallowing back the sarcastic reply that tried to rise. She couldn’t afford to be flippant. Not here. Not with him.

She forced a soft chuckle. “And do I seem worth your time so far?”

Stacks didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned his gaze directly on her, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as if calculating something far beyond the scope of her question.

“I think,” he said slowly, “you’ll be more than worth it.”

Jackie’s throat tightened. She smiled again tight, polite, and reached for the glass of sparkling water on the table. Her hand was steady. She’d mastered that much. But inside, she could feel the unease simmering beneath the surface.

She needed to breathe. To remind herself she was in control at least outwardly.

Stacks leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes still on her. “You play it cool. Real cool. But I know nervous when I see it.”

Jackie glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “I’m not nervous.”

His mouth twitched into something like a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “No? Then you’re the rarest kind of woman in this room.”

She didn’t answer. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

Stacks straightened up again, dragging a single finger across the rim of his glass, watching the waterline tremble slightly. “I know what I look like to women like you. Dangerous. Maybe even arrogant.”

“Maybe?” Jackie she questioned.

He let out a dry laugh. “You’re bold. I like that.”

Jackie folded one leg over the other, her voice smooth. “I’m careful. There’s a difference.”

Their eyes locked for a moment, something electric but unspoken pulsing between them. He could read the walls she had up. She could feel the subtle pressure in every word he chose, every measured glance.

Stacks tapped the unlit cigar against the table edge, his gaze still tracking her with unsettling ease. “So tell me, Jackie…” His voice dropped into something smoother, more deliberate as he lit his cigar. “If you don’t dance, and you don’t flirt for tips, what’d you come to this city for?”

Jackie didn’t flinch. She crossed her arms gently, tilting her head like she’d been asked that question too many times already. “To work,” she said simply.

Stacks gave a low scoff, leaning in just enough for his voice to carry heat. “Liar.”

Her jaw tightened before she could stop it. She met his gaze, sharper now. “Excuse me?”

He didn’t blink. “You didn’t leave wherever you’re from just to pull night shifts for chump change. You’re hungry. I see it.”

Jackie’s spine straightened. “You don’t know me.”

His smirk didn’t waver. “Not yet. But I’m good at reading people. And you…you’re trying real hard not to be seen.”

She was quiet, but a fire licked at the back of her throat. She could’ve said something slick, something biting, because God knew it was on the tip of her tongue. But she didn’t. She forced a smile, slow and measured, folding her hands neatly in her lap like she had all the time in the world.

“I play my part,” she said coolly.

Stacks narrowed his eyes, like he could feel the weight of everything she was holding back. Then his mouth curved, like he’d just cracked the first layer of a locked safe.

“Your cousin wants to be a dancer,” he said. “So I’m guessing… you want to be an actress.”

Jackie blinked once, slow.

He leaned back, satisfied with her silence. “That’s it, isn’t it? That’s the real dream. You didn’t come here just to work. You came here hoping someone would see you.”

She looked away, lips pressing together.

Stacks’s voice softened just slightly. “Well, I’m looking now.”

Jackie didn’t reply. She didn’t need to. Her silence said more than words could manage equal parts defiance and fear, ambition and restraint.

He watched her like a man who’d found something valuable in a pawnshop window. Underpriced, underestimated, but gleaming just beneath the dust.

“Let me guess,” he continued, “you used to recite lines in your bedroom mirror. Maybe did a school play or two. Heard you had something special. Thought maybe the city would agree.”

Jackie’s face was calm, but her hands curled ever so slightly against the fabric of her dress. He was too close. Not physically, but mentally. He was peeling her open with questions she hadn’t even asked herself lately.

“And if I did?” she said, her voice steady. “What does that matter to you?”

Stacks smiled again, slow and confident. “It means I know what kind of story you’re trying to write for yourself.”

He stood then, straightening his jacket as if to punctuate the moment.

“And I might be the one who helps you write it.”

Jackie watched him as he turned to walk away, pausing only to glance back over his shoulder.

“Think about it,” he said, before slipping into the crowd like smoke in a room full of mirrors.

Jackie remained seated, her back barely touching the velvet cushion behind her. The low hum of voices and jazz mingled like smoke around her, but everything felt muffled, distant like she was underwater.

Stacks' words echoed in her head.

“You didn’t come here just to work… You want to be seen.”

Damn him.

He didn’t know her. Not really. He didn’t know what it felt like to grow up in a house too quiet, too small, where dreams weren’t nurtured they were tolerated at best, dismissed at worst. He hadn’t seen her standing outside the bus station with twenty bucks in her shoe, clutching her cousin’s address in one hand and a half-dead hope in the other.

She’d told herself this move was about survival. Just a job. Just a fresh start.

But he saw through that. Saw through her.

And what terrified her wasn’t that he was wrong, it was because he was right.

Her heart thudded behind her ribs. She wasn’t just here to help with rent. She wasn’t just tagging along with Marietta. She came here hoping for more. She came hoping the city would pull something out of her that had always been buried. Something raw and dazzling. A version of herself she could be proud of.

But now?

Stacks of all people was the one dangling that possibility like a string of pearls. And she didn’t trust him. His smile was too confident. His words too calculated. She could feel the manipulation dripping from every syllable. He was dangerous. The kind of man who offered gold only to chain it around your neck.

Jackie sipped her sparkling water again, the bubbles bitter on her tongue. She was angry. Not just at him—but at herself. For letting her pulse jump when he said he was looking now. For letting even a flicker of curiosity catch fire in her chest.

She turned her eyes toward the far end of the penthouse, searching for Marietta. Her cousin was still upstairs somewhere, out of sight, and that made her feel even more alone.

You said we wouldn’t split up.

Jackie swallowed hard.

A fresh swell of laughter came from a circle of dancers and bouncers a few feet away. Jackie straightened her posture and folded her hands in her lap, forcing her breath to steady.

She couldn’t afford to fall apart. Not here. Not tonight.

So she did what she always did when the pressure climbed too high. She performed. She painted on a small, practiced smile. Tilted her chin. Made herself look composed, unbothered, in control. Because if she couldn’t be seen the way she wanted, she’d at least control how she was seen.

Even if it meant pretending.

TAGLIST:

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#elias stack moore x black oc #stack sinners #stack x oc #blackwriters #70's fic #sinners fanfiction #sinners #michael b jordan x oc #michael b jordan #stacks x oc

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heathersdesk · 4 months ago

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So many works of Latter-day Saint authors have been lost to time because they've languished without ever being republished. Mormon Manuscripts endeavors to bring these texts back to life again through transcription, editing, formatting, and republication.

So many incredible women's voices have been lost to us by going out of print. My emphasis right now is bringing these voices back to us so we know who so many of the early Mormon feminists are that we've forgotten.

Songs and Flowers of the Wasatch, edited by Emmeline B Wells for the 1893 World's Fair in Chicago. Women of the Church in Utah raised their own money to attend the Fair and show the world how educated and articulate they truly were. The poems in this collection are some of the best works produced by LDS women in the 19th century, all by women whose names you've largely never heard of.

Wild Flowers of Deseret by Augusta Joyce Crocheron. She is one of my favorite LDS women I've ever read. Her poetry was composed over her lifetime in California and Utah and captures the memories and stories of her life and faith beautifully. You'll see her work in all three of these books. She was a staunch supporter of feminism and women's suffrage and made no apologies in her advocacy.

Utah Woman Suffrage Song Book by Woman's Exponent. As the earliest publication of the Relief Society, the Woman's Exponent was crucial to community building and advancing the voices LDS women. This song book, created to galvanize support for women's suffrage, preserves the feelings of loss and grief of women who lost the right to vote under the Edmunds-Tucker Act. Did you know that LDS women invoked Heavenly Mother IN SONG against the United States government? Because I didn't! And my life is better now that I've seen it for myself, and could reproduce those efforts in a musical number at Church.

These are only the first of many books I'm preparing for republication. Some true gems that have never been needed more than in the days we're now living through are on the way.

If you'd like to support the project, please consider buying one of these amazing books! And because they're being published without DRM, you can read them on any app or device that can handle an EPUB!

#mormon #lds #tumblrstake #mormonism #the church of jesus christ of latter day saints #religion #faith #queerstake #ldsconf

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not-maggie · 11 months ago

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Hypothetically, Of Course

A/N: umm, so hi! this is my first ever fic I've written but I do read a lot lmao. I was using a c.ai bot and it inspired me to write this because it was really cute! <3 this is lowkey a self ship bc I'm tired of seeing Y/N's who don't have a personality and are shy. nothing wrong with being shy ofc <3 just not who I am and I needed some self indulging. Anyway, enjoy! any criticism/comments are greatly appreciated!! (GIF not mine<3)

It was a cool afternoon in Stars Hallow, the dead leaves falling to the ground as the breeze shook them from branches. The bell above the door rings out as Y/N enters Luke's Diner, catching the attention of a certain brunette behind the counter.

Jess feels his heart stutter as she enters, silently cursing himself for having such a reaction. He throws on his signature smirk as she approaches the counter, "Hey, the usual?"

Y/N nods with a soft laugh, "I come here too often if you know it by now." She takes a seat on one of the stool as Jess begins preparing her order. "So, anything interesting happen today?" she asks, making conversation.

"Oh, y'know, annoying customers, Luke yelling at me for not working, the usual." Jess hums, turning his head to look over his shoulder at her. "What about you?"

Y/N lets out a scoff as she responds, "Y'know Brad, the quarterback on the football team? Total douche, anyway, had the audacity to ask me out, while I was in the middle of studying in the library. And, on top of that, got mad when I rejected him. Said something about winning a bet, total bullshit." She rolls her eyes, leaning against the counter.

Jess feels his blood boil, a bet? A bet to ask 𝘺𝘰𝘶 out? He takes a moment to collect himself before turning around and responding, placing her coffee down in front of her, "Wow, total dick move. A bet? What kind of bet? If he could get in your pants?"

Y/N rolls her eyes, "Don't know, and honestly, don't really care. I get the satisfaction of knowing he didn't win, whatever it was. Like I would ever go out with him," she scoffs.

Jess leans his arms against the counter, "Not your type?" His tone is teasing, his usual snark coming out, but there's a hint of genuine curiosity.

Y/N lets out a snort of amusement, "No, I would never go for a football player, or really any athlete. Anyone who doesn't know Austen is not worth it."

Jess raises an eyebrow, "Got high standards," he teases. "So, what, is, your type?" He asks, his head resting on his palm in a casual manner.

Y/N lets out a hum as she thinks, planning her answer. "Well, looks don't really matter that much. More into personality, someone who can keep up with my sarcasm. Funny, making me laugh is really important, and there's no way I can be funnier than my partner, that's a sad life. Well-read, I'm talking more than just Dr. Seuss and the Outsiders. Someone...spontaneous, impulsive, acts before thinking; adds fun to life. And, someone who isn't afraid to show me off, not saying we have to make out in town square, but hand holding, stolen kisses, stuff like that."

Jess's heart flutters as he hears her words, that's him. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦. "So," he tries to maintain his casual, aloof appearance, "You got a guy in mind? That all seems pretty specific."

Y/N smirks at his words, "Maybe, it's kind of hard to find someone like that in this small town. You either get guys like Brad, high school has-been's, or Dean Forester. Perfect Dean Forester, although I guess technically he did move here from Chicago. But he has the 'Small Town Boy' act down."

Jess chuckles softly at her words, she was right, Dean did have that Small Town act perfected down to a science. "So, if there we're to be a guy, who matched this description, would he have shot with you, hypothetically of course."

Y/N grins, picking up what Jess was hinting at. "I'd say, hypothetically, if this guy we're to ask me out, or confess his undying love for me, I wouldn't shoot him down."

Jess straightens out, hip pushed against the counter as he leans in a bit. "So if this guy were to, hypothetically, say that he likes you and have for a while, you'd go out with him?"

"Yes, I would, but only if he told me directly." Y/N challenges Jess, knowing that he isn't big on sharing his feelings.

Jess stands up straight behind the counter as he meets Y/N's gaze, he takes a moment before talking. "I like you, have for a while." He runs a hand through his messy hair, "In fact, you drive me crazy. There isn't a moment when your'e not invading my brain, very distracting."

Y/N's smile grows as she hears him talk, "Well, I like you too. Just, don't start charging me rent for living in your head." She pokes his forehead as she teases him.

Jess laughs, 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘴, at her words. "I'll let you live rent-free on one condition, be mine? God, that sounds gross and sappy." He groans at his words and how cliche he sounds.

Y/N let out a laugh, "Yes, I'll be yours." She smiles, "Bad boy Jess has gone soft."

Jess rolls his eyes but a smile tugs at his lips, "Shut up, I'm not soft....Okay maybe, but only for you and around you. And if you tell anyone..." He doesn't finish the threat, but they both know there isn't any actual heat behind it.

"Yeah, yeah." Y/N rolls her eyes, "Your secret is safe with me." She crosses her heart with a smile.

"Good," Jess hums with a small smile. "So, your mine now, huh?" He grabs her hand from across the counter, thumb rubbing across the back of her hand as their fingers interlock.

"Yeah," Y/N smiles softly, squeezing his hand. "All yours"

Jess's smile widens at her words, "That's right, all mine" He brings her hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "Mine to protect," he locks eyes with Y/N. "Mine to love, mine to cherish..." He leans in further over the counter, "Mine to hold, mine to care for..." His eyes sweep over her face, taking in every detail and memorizing them. "Mine to spoil," he reaches his free hand to cup her cheek, thumb running across her skin. "Mine to be with...and mine to love, forever." He closes the distance between the two, his lips meeting hers in a soft, tender kiss, expressing unspoken thoughts and emotions.

As he kisses her, he feels a sense of peace wash over him. He feels complete, whole. He's never been good at expressing his feelings, but right now, he knows deep in his heart that he means ever word he said.

He loves Y/N.

And he's never letting her go.

"That's the sappiest thing you've ever said."

#jess mariano x reader #jess mariano #gilmore girls #gilmore girls x reader #female reader #x reader #reader insert #first fic #please dont hate me #i'm just a girl

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megalony · 10 months ago

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This Is Fate- Part 6

I'm so happy to be posting the next part of my Dark! Evan Buckley series, thank you for all the amazing feedback.

I can't wait to know what you all think to the little twist.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay

@5hundreddaysofsummer @soryuwifeyxx @targaryenluvs @xobarbie

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Eddie is surprised when his little sister comes to LA, pregnant, and asks to stay with him. She needs a fresh start away from her ex, but things take a bad turn when she finds out her ex works with her brother. And he won't let her go so easily.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With his bag shrugged on his shoulder, Eddie trudged across the car park towards the main entrance of the station.

He could hear the same mantra he had been telling himself all night, going round and round in his head like a broken record.

Don't start a fight. Don't let him get to you. Play nice, for everyone's sake.

Those words circulated around Eddie's head like it was the only thing he could understand. He couldn't start a fight with Evan at work. He couldn't let anything Evan might say get a rise out of him or gain a reaction. Eddie had to be the bigger person and play it safe.

He didn't want the rest of the team finding out that Evan was the baby's father. If the team knew, they would try and push Eddie and Evan closer together and make them seem like brothers. Like before. Before this mess got in the way. And Eddie didn't want to be anywhere near Evan. If the team knew, it would be worse for (Y/n). They would try and see her around Evan or he would try and get closer to her, like the leech he was starting to become.

If no one knew, Eddie could handle this situation himself. He could either help Evan to be himself again, to be calm and considerate around (Y/n) rather than overbearing and controlling. Or he would have to do something like involving the police in order to keep his sister and niece safe.

Everything was going to be easier if the team were none the wiser to what was happening.

Eddie took a deep breath as he walked into the station, preparing himself for whatever mood Evan was going to be in. He had no idea whether his former friend was going to be cool and brisk or if he would try and cosy up to Eddie and act like they were still the best of friends.

He was a little taken back to find Evan was already here. Eddie was early, which meant that Evan was even earlier.

Evan was stood between the truck and the ambulance, a tender smile on his face and his arms folded over his chest as he stood with the team. But what caught Eddie's attention was the fact that Evan had his uniform on, but his bag was slung over his shoulder and remnants of grime and dirt were stuck to his face.

How long had be been here? Had he already started his shift? Why did he look like he had been here for hours?

Eddie didn't miss the way that Evan shivered when he caught sight of him. Was he finally starting to relent and give in? Was he finally realising that Eddie would go to the ends of the Earth to keep him away from his sister? If Evan was starting to get nervous around him then Eddie knew he was doing his job and that things might finally go in his and (Y/n)'s favour, for once.

He tried not to hurry his steps as he approached the rest of the team, but Eddie found himself frowning.

Evan stepped away from him. The taller man pulled his shoulders in and adverted his gaze down to the floor like he was ashamed or suddenly fearful over Eddie. He gripped his bag tighter on his shoulder and stood that little bit closer to Hen who had her hand on his arm and a comforting smile on her face.

"I'd better head home, I- I'll catch you all later." Evan rubbed the heel of his boot into the floor like he was digging a hole and he continued to avoid Eddie's confused gaze.

There was a light blush dusting his face when Evan looked over at Hen and smiled softly at her as she squeezed his arm.

"We're all happy for you, Buck." It was clear Hen's words were referring to whatever conversation they'd been having before Eddie turned up. Leaving Eddie stood in the dark, totally confused as to what was going on and the topic that they had been talking about which had clearly become stilted upon his arrival.

Evan nodded, patted her hand and walked away from her and Chimney as the three of them had been stood chatting for a while now before Eddie turned up. When he went to walk away, Eddie reached out and tried to grab his arm.

His touch wasn't cold or malicious like it had been before and he wasn't about to yank him back or start a fight here. He just wanted to know where Evan was going. He should have been on shift the same as Eddie today and although Eddie hadn't been best pleased about having to be civil, he preferred having Evan right where he could see him. As long as their shifts aligned, it meant Eddie would watch him at all times and then be with (Y/n) so there was no danger of Evan getting to her and doing anything he shouldn't.

But the moment Eddie softly held Evan's upper arm, the taller man shuddered and stepped back. He was quick to wrench his arm out of Eddie's grasp as if he had been scolded by him and he actually flinched.

A bewildered look passed over Eddie's face like an oncoming storm and he frowned in utter confusion.

"Buck, what th-"

"Have a good shift, guys." Evan dipped his head, visibly quaking as he stepped away from Eddie and proceeded to hurry out the station.

What was going on? What had Eddie missed?

Eddie twisted to look at his other teammates, but he was surprised to find Chimney had already walked away and was heading up towards the kitchen. He hadn't even said hello to Eddie, he hadn't said one word or even looked at him and he was walking away. And when he looked across at Hen, unease written plainly on his features, he frowned.

She walked past him with a stoic expression and her chin tilted up like she wasn't going to give him the time of day. What had he done to get the cold shoulder?

Their last shift had been fine, they had all been laughing so much Eddie almost pulled a muscle. That had been a good shift because Evan had to hang back at the station while the rest of them went out on the majority of the calls. Eddie didn't have to deal with him and they had all been having a laugh. It had been calming. So what had changed since then?

"Eddie, a word in my office please?"

The sight of Bobby made a momentary feeling of ease wash over Eddie, right until he looked at his Captain. Bobby looked uneasy. Clearly something had happened this morning and Eddie needed filling in on the situation.

He nodded, dumping his bag on the bench beside him before he followed Bobby down the long corridor towards his office. There was something in Bobby's voice that made Eddie feel like he was heading to the principal's office, about to get told off.

Why did he have a sudden feeling that this had something to do with Evan?

He shut the door behind him and moved to sit down opposite Bobby's desk. His eagle eyes watching his Captain sit down. Bobby looked perplexed. He was sat up straight in his chair and both hands were fiddling around with the papers on his desk like he didn't know what to do with himself.

"Where's Buck gone, the shift's just started." Eddie looked down at his watch, just to make sure that he hadn't overslept or that his watch wasn't late. But he was early like he always was to shift, which meant Evan had to of been here for a while. He had changed his shift or swapped with someone.

"He's done an early shift, I've modified the rota because he wanted a few shift changes."

"Okay… why am I here, what's going on?"

Whatever this was, Eddie didn't like it. He could see in Bobby's expression that he was uncomfortable and he didn't want to be having whatever conversation this was about to become. Something had definitely happened while Eddie had been off for the last three days. He had missed something important, he could feel it.

He leaned his elbows on the armrests and clasped his hands together in front of him, trying not to sit too straight or slouch down in case it gave the wrong impression. Although he wasn't sure what kind of impression he should be giving when he had no idea what was going on.

Bobby danced his eyes around the desk, planting both palms down against the cold wood before he looked over at Eddie. "Buck came to talk to me yesterday, he's worried about you, Eddie."

"About me?" Well that wasn't right for a start. There was no reason Evan would be worried about him. They had been arguing, Evan was entirely in the wrong. The only thing he should be worried about was whether or not Eddie was going to stand in his way and stop him from seeing (Y/n) and his daughter.

But that was a personal matter, nothing to do with work or Bobby or the station.

"I'll be honest with you Eddie, he's shown me the texts, and I heard about the argument at (Y/n)'s scan last week. Buck's worried this might cause problems at work and frankly, so am I."

What the Hell was Buck up to?!

Why had he been talking to Bobby about this? Why had he shown Bobby their messages? If Bobby scrolled back far enough he would see all the crazy shit Evan had said when Eddie riled him up last week. He had said all sorts. He loved (Y/n), he wasn't letting her go. She wasn't taking his daughter who was his and his alone. No one would stop him from seeing them both or being with (Y/n).

The amount of things Evan had said were more worrying than Eddie telling him to calm down or stay away from (Y/n). Why weren't they talking about that instead of what Eddie had said in anger and truth? It seemed like Evan couldn't tell the truth if his life depended on it.

"Bobby, you don't understand-"

"I know he's in a relationship with (Y/n), he's been very open about that, and about how you're protective over her which is okay. But I can't have this causing problems with the pair of you at work. Buck asked for a pattern change and I've agreed and set it in place, but I don't want anymore problems occurring."

Eddie could feel his heart stuttering in his chest, forgetting what pace it was supposed to be working at, causing his body to shake and his chest to seize up. Each heartbeat thumped against his ribs and caused a horrid jolt to course through his veins.

He scratched his hands up and down his thighs and tilted his head down so he could focus on looking at the frays in the knees of his jeans and count every breath he took.

This wasn't right. This wasn't fair. Evan was twisting this to his advantage, he couldn't do this!

"What about him? Bobby this isn't just me fucking around, Buck's done some shit too."

"That may be, but you're the one sending threatening messages to him Eddie. You pushed him in front of witnesses at the hospital and you've been calling him non stop and telling him to stay away from (Y/n), which isn't your choice. He's very worried about you, and so am I because if this continues I'll have to give you a warning or go to senior management."

Oh no.

No, no no, he can't be doing this!

Evan had jumped the gun. He had gotten the head start on Eddie. He had set this up from the very beginning, he knew exactly what he was doing and how to cheat the system.

He was starting the lies that Eddie was the one with the anger problem, that Eddie was the one instigating the trouble. If Evan went down this path, if he told Bobby first and tried to get evidence to prove his point, then Eddie would be stuck.

He was stuck. Eddie couldn't go to Bobby in confidence and explain that Evan was (Y/n)'s stalker. He couldn't tell Bobby that Evan had frightened (Y/n), followed her, controlled her and was still trying to bend her to his will. Anything Eddie tried to say from this point onwards would look like he was going after Evan, that he was persecuting him for being with (Y/n).

The truth wouldn't matter because Evan had set the stage. He had told Bobby and he had clearly told the team something too in order to turn them against Eddie. They would think Eddie was being the protective big brother, that he was spiting Evan for being with his sister.

They weren't going to believe Eddie because Evan was playing the victim and anything he said was going to take precident over whatever accusations Eddie started.

If Eddie wanted to tell the truth, he was going to have to find all the texts, he was going to make to get (Y/n) to talk to Bobby or to the police as well so Evan wouldn't have any other lies to tell.

Evan had made himself the victim.

"Fine. I'd rather not work with him anyway." His hands slammed down on the arms of the chair and he moved to stand up, but he paused when Bobby stood up too.

He wasn't going to argue. He wasn't going to sit here and be told he was being threatening and evasive and picking on his former friend, when Evan was the one to blame. Evan had set this up like an insurance policy to keep himself safe and make sure he got his clutches onto (Y/n). Well Eddie wasn't going to play the game.

This was why Evan had run off like a skittish animal out of the station, he was playing the sympathy game. Pretending he was worried about being around Eddie, acting as if Eddie might tackle him so the team felt sorry for him.

"Eddie, this is serious."

"So reprimand me."

"I'm not doing this to persecute you, this is just a chat, no warnings or written warnings or anything like that. But I have to talk to you because if this is going to be a problem, if this behaviour happens at work you'll have to be on opposite shifts and I'll have to give you a warning."

"What is it you think I've done?" The way his upper lip curled made Bobby sigh. "I didn't punch him or start a fight, Bobby. He was out of line at the hospital so I pushed him away from (Y/n). That's it and that had nothing to do with work, if he can grow up then I can be professional."

It hadn't been a fight, Evan was twisting this to make himself the vulnerable, persecuted victim.

After (Y/n)'s scan, Evan had attached himself to her like a leech and he tried to tell her she could go home with him, again. Eddie wasn't having any of it and so he pushed Evan back. That was all he did, he didn't punch him or shout at him or cause a scene in the waiting room. He pushed him and walked out with (Y/n) before Evan could follow after them.

He should of hit him. At least that might have gotten the message through Evan's skull and made him realise he was playing with fire.

"You both need to sort this out between you because I won't have this affecting your work."

What would of happened if Eddie had come to Bobby first? What would Bobby have done if he learned the truth? Would he have talked to (Y/n), reassured her he would watch Evan and make sure he didn't spread anymore lies or try and get close to her? Would Bobby have taken their side?

Maybe Evan would have a note on his file by now that he was acting out and was becoming a danger. Maybe he would have been talked to by higher management. Maybe Athena would have gotten involved.

If the team could see this through (Y/n)'s eyes, if they could see why Eddie was trying to protect her, maybe they would agree. Maybe they would shun Evan instead of Eddie and do whatever they could to make him stop, to make him act properly and go about this in the right way.

Eddie would never know how the team would react, because the damage had already been done. By Evan. Again.

"Eddie, a piece of advice? Whatever the problem is here, you can't change the fact that Buck and (Y/n) are having a kid together. He's going to be in your life and you both have to find out how to work with this. Avoiding each other isn't going to work forever."

With a huff, Eddie walked out and slammed the door behind him, relishing in the way the wall shuddered at his force and his presence. He could feel his hands balling up into fists at his sides. All he was doing was trying to protect his family, and he was about to get reprimanded for it.

No, avoiding each other wasn't going to work forever. But Eddie wasn't going to let Evan have his own way and set the rules. He would keep his sister safe from Evan's clutches, in any way he could.

***

A headache began to form behind (Y/n)'s eyes when she blearily looked around the living room.

She had fallen asleep.

It was getting harder and harder for (Y/n) to manage some sleep nowadays, she spent most nights tossing and turning or just staring up at the ceiling, waiting in vain for her mind to get so tired it shut itself down.

She wasn't used to taking naps during the day, but she was relieved she had managed to doze off for a while. It would do her some good to get some sleep, and it would help the baby too. (Y/n) knew all the worry recently wasn't doing her any good, it was making her feel ill and making her sluggish at work. A bit of rest might make her feel better.

It took some effort to push up from the cushion she had been dozing on and sit upright on the sofa. She heaved her legs back down so her feet were touching the floor and ran her fingers through her hair, moving it so it didn't look as if she had just been dragged through a hedge.

It dawned on her why she had suddenly woken up from her nap she didn't remember taking. She could hear an engine revving outside.

Chris was home.

Pushing up from the sofa, she clicked her spine into place and moved her hand to cradle her stomach.

Evan had brought him home. Despite Eddie vowing not to let Evan near Chris or (Y/n), he had given in when he realised not seeing Evan was going to crush his son. Chris had asked when he could see Evan next and he was still anxious about not wanting (Y/n) to leave. If he suddenly stopped seeing the one other person he relied on, he would know something was wrong.

Eddie had set the rules in place. Evan could take him out to the cinema today and go for a drive, but Chris had to be home for tea time. Evan couldn't come in, he couldn't try any tricks or make (Y/n) uncomfortable or say anything that would unsettle Chris.

He knew Chris would be safe with Evan. The possessive side was only there for (Y/n) and it would only flare up around her or the baby, it wouldn't extend to Chris. Unless Evan was parted from him too. Keeping contact was best for the pair of them and Eddie was willing to let it continue because he knew Evan hadn't done anything to worry or upset Chris like he had done with (Y/n).

Moving her hand to the armchair, (Y/n) used it as leverage and pushed herself into the hall. She padded barefoot towards the front door but she took a step back when it swung open and Chris came trotting in, as usual.

Her lips curved into a smile as he kicked off his shoes and hung up his bag and she felt her heart bubbling up when he set his sights on her and grinned. But (Y/n) could feel her smile quivering, desperate to fall into a frown when she realised who else was in the doorway.

Chris had his hand tightly enveloped in Evan's and he pulled Evan inside as if he was a dog on a leash.

Evan kicked the door shut behind him and shrugged out of his shoes, the usual habit when he came over. He knew things would change, he had never felt like a guest in the Diaz household, but now he was going to be an unwelcomed visitor.

It was a good thing Evan knew Eddie wasn't home and that Chris wanted him here. The ten year old had practically dragged him in without asking, simply presuming Evan would come in for a while like he usually did, and Evan was more than willing to come in because he knew (Y/n) was home.

Without Eddie here to guard her, Evan could be as close to her as he liked without consequence.

"Hi baby," (Y/n) watched as Chris finally let go of Evan's hand so he could barrell over to (Y/n) and bind his arms around her waist. He glued himself to her front, trying to be mindful of her bump that was now in the way and he giggled when she leaned down to kiss his hair. Ruffling his curls in the process, which made him squeeze her tighter.

(Y/n) was rather relieved that Evan had stuck to the agreement. She knew Eddie had been worried that he might try and take liberties. That he would keep Chris out later than he was told or take him back to his place or just do something to push the boundaries that he shouldn't.

But Eddie had been firm, and he had been less than kind when he had a quiet word with Evan after work.

He didn't care what lies Evan told to the team, but he explained that Evan couldn't get away with anything. If he took liberties with Chris, then Eddie would make sure Evan wouldn't get close to his daughter once she was born.

The threat had been enough to rattle Evan's cage and make him agree to any terms placed in front of him.

"Did you two have fun?" (Y/n) ran her fingers through Chris's hair as he continued to hug her, sticking to her side like they were now permanently glued together.

She tried not to, but she couldn't help but dance her eyes over to Evan. He had taken his shoes off. He had shut the door behind him. He wasn't intending on leaving yet. He had been told to drop Chris off and go, whenever he did that he would usually sit in the jeep and wait until Chris got inside, then he would drive off. Clearly when Chris had asked him if he was coming in, Evan took the invitation without a second thought.

She could feel her heart jumping into her throat when Evan grinned at her. He looked so casual, stood there with his hip leaning against the side table and one hand on his hip.

And (Y/n) didn't miss the way that Evan's eyes dragged up and down her frame, lingering in many places, as long as he liked because they both knew no one else was home. No one was going to tell him to back off. If he got closer, (Y/n) wouldn't have the nerve to tell him to move because Chris was here and she couldn't upset him.

"Yeah, he loved the film." Evan's voice was silky smooth and he reached up to drag his hand across his freshly shaved jaw in that manner which hid his smirk behind his hand.

"You didn't tell me!"

"Tell you what, baby?" Tilting her head to one side, (Y/n) narrowed her eyes as a quizzical smile played on her lips.

What hadn't she told Chris? Had she forgotten to mention something, about the movie perhaps? It had to be something good because she could feel her nephew vibrating against her, practically bouncing up and down like he was about to explode.

"That you and uncle Buck are having a baby! That means he's really gonna be my uncle now, right?"

A cold shiver cast down (Y/n)'s spine as dread started to pool in her stomach where the baby was livening up.

He hadn't?

He had. One look at that devilish smirk on Evan's face told (Y/n) he had gone and done something she wished he hadn't. He had made things ten times worse, just to play the game to his advantage.

He had told Chris the baby was his.

Evan had cemented himself in the family and made sure nothing could happen without him knowing. By telling Chris, he was affirming himself and his place in (Y/n)'s life. If Chris knew, he wouldn't let this go. He would let Evan in all the time, he would call him his uncle, he would love that his two favourite people were seemingly in a relationship and having a baby.

If (Y/n) even thought about leaving again, Chris would undoubtedly let anything slip to Evan. He would be his eyes and ears when (Y/n) wasn't in his sights.

This was Evan's way of making sure he was in his daughter's life. They couldn't keep him away without horridly distressing Chris, and neither Eddie nor (Y/n) would want to do that unless strictly necessary. They would have to let Evvan be involved with his child, they would have to let him hang around and take Chris out and be close to (Y/n). They didn't have a choice anymore.

Chris would tell the team, he would tell his friends, he would tell anyone and everyone that Evan and (Y/n) were in a relationship. This worked everything entirely to Evan's advantage.

(Y/n) fought back a shiver when Evan walked over to them. She stiffened when his arm curved around her waist so his hand rested on her lower back, and she stayed completely motionless when he pressed a deep kiss to her temple.

"It sure does, buddy."

He had officially integrated himself and rooted (Y/n) here. She couldn't go anywhere or leave with the baby without causing a fight with Evan and making waves through their whole friendship group.

"L- let's start dinner." (Y/n) shakily squeezed Chris in another little hug before she detached herself from him.

She glanced up at Evan as she pulled out of his arms and the silent debate between them was won when Chris waved Evan to follow. Muttering a soft "You staying?" Which sounded more like a command than a question.

"How could I refuse?"

They both knew why he was staying. Eddie was on the late shift, he wouldn't be home until roughly eight o'clock tonight. There was three hours to play with. Three whole hours where Evan could be in his girl's company and wrap himself around her and kiss her and talk to her freely without having to look over his shoulder or hold himself back to please Eddie.

Without him here, Evan felt like he had had the shackles taken off his wrists and he was a free man. He had been released from his prison that had restrained him to the point of insanity. Not being able to hold his girl drove him mad. Not being able to reach out for her stomach and feel his baby wriggling had him on the verge of tears.

Not talking to her or holding her close or pinning her beneath him had him in a state of desperation Evan had never felt before. (Y/n) felt the pair of them following after her as she headed into the kitchen and washed her hands. She had prepared most of the food earlier, all she had to do was put everything on the stove and cook the mince.

She forced herself to smile and handed the pan of chopped vegetables over to Chris so he could put them on the stove.

"Does this… does this mean you'll move out? You'll live with uncle Buck now?" Chris divided his attention between them, looking from one to the other as (Y/n) stood near the sink and Evan stood behind him.

Evan placed one hand on the counter and the other on Chris's shoulder so he could lean down and kiss the top of his head. Chris was unknowingly doing all the work here for him. If (Y/n) said yes, she wouldn't be able to back out. If she said no, she would have to explain to Chris why, and make the situation more complicated.

"I- I suppose… I don't think that cot will fit in my room here, do you?" (Y/n) wasn't trapping herself in this conversation. She would make light of it. After all, Chris knew she had been looking at flats. She could always tell him that once she got her own flat, that she and Evan were going to co-parent together but didn't have to live together.

But she knew she couldn't stay here forever, no matter how badly she wanted to. She needed a place of her own, for her and the baby. She couldn't stay here with Chris and Eddie and she could hardly stay in that room and squash a cot in there with her.

Eddie had gone out with her to get a few things, considering (Y/n) had barely anything ready for the baby. She had put it off long enough, so now she had bought a crib and stroller and some clothes, just a few essentials.

"We'll have to get sorted soon, she'll be here before we know it."

Evan's words rung true and (Y/n) tried not to pull away or make any sudden movements when Evan shuffled to stand beside her. The affection in his voice had her eyes welling over with tears.

She did her best to stop her hands from shaking as she put the mince on the stove and started to stir the pan. Her eyes intently focused on the cooking while Chris watched intently, and she felt Evan's presence at her side more than ever.

Especially when she felt his hand drag across her stomach. She stayed still, letting Evan trail his fingertips along her bump, clearly waiting for a kick or some sign that their daughter was awake. (Y/n) didn't like to stop him because she knew Evan wasn't trying to play games, he was with his words, but not these kind of touches. He wanted to feel a kick, he wanted to feel her move and feel involved. (Y/n) didn't have the heart to stop him.

"So, you've got a few things ready for her, then?"

"Hm?" (Y/n) dragged her gaze away from Evan's hand that didn't leave her stomach and looked up at him, confusion glazing over in her eyes until she realised what he meant. "Oh, yeah, not much. Cot, carrier, pram, that's it I think. There's still heaps more to do."

Her attention shifted back to the cooking, but she could feel her mind drifting away and trying so hard to concentrate on Evan's movements.

The way he shifted to stand behind her like he was pinning her in between the cooker and himself. The way his chest pressed down against her back when he leaned over her shoulder. And how his left hand curved over her hip while his right hand continuted to feather across her stomach so softly she felt like she was imagining the touch.

"I'll take you next week, to get whatever else we need." His lips pressed against the side of her temple and he nudged his nose into her hairline, staying there for a few seconds. She could feel his even breaths fanning against her skin and she didn't mistake the way his arms tightened around her like he was caging her in.

She wanted to refuse. She wanted to say no, but how could she? This was his baby too. (Y/n) would feel cruel going out and getting everything without so much as consulting Evan on a few things. She wasn't doing this alone no matter how she had tried in the beginning. Doing this alone had mainly consisted of acting like she wasn't pregnant to begin with.

"Can I come with you? I can find her some Disney stuff." The excitement in Chris's voice was hard to resist and he planted his hands down on the counter as he began swaying from his heels to his toes.

"Sure buddy. She's definitely gonna be a Disney princess."

(Y/n) found herself nodding when Chris looked up at her. At least if Chris went with them, (Y/n) would feel moderately safe and at ease. Evan would never do anything inappropriate in front of Chris, and he would have to watch what he said because they all knew Chris retained information like an encyclopaedia.

If he tagged along with them, Evan couldn't be too touchy-feely with (Y/n) and if she asked him to take her home, he couldn't just disagree and take her to his place, something he had done before in the past.

And it would stop (Y/n) from overly panicking if someone went with her to buy the things she needed for the baby. Even if that did happen to be Evan. It wouldn't feel so daunting with the pair of them going with her.

"Okay, why don't you go set up a game to beat Buck before dinner, hm?" She dragged her fingers through Chris's curls and ticked her head in the direction of the doorway.

Chris didn't have to stay and help, he could go and play a game and (Y/n) knew he would want Evan to play a game or two with him. At least if they played before dinner, (Y/n) wouldn't have to argue with them both to get Evan out of the house. If they played after dinner, Evan might never leave. And he certainly couldn't be here when Eddie came home.

"I'll be there in a minute," Evan muttered softly, patting Chris's shoulder before he was hurrying out of the room to find a suitable game for them to play.

When he turned back in her direction, Evan tilted his head to one side and moved so his front was facing her. He loved the nervous smile he could see on (Y/n)'s face like she didn't know what to do with herself or how to look art him. He loved the way she shivered when she looked up at him and when he stepped closer, she had nowhere to move.

Her hips pressed back into the counter that her hands reached behind her to grab so she could keep herself steady. She didn't seem to know what to do when Evan moved to stand between her legs, pressing his abdomen into her bump and clamping his hands down on the counter either side of her.

"We need to think of a name, for her." Evan cast his eyes down before he looked back up at (Y/n), darting his tongue out to trace across his lips like a predator sizing up its meal.

(Y/n) tilted her head back, trying to breathe properly but she couldn't with how close Evan was to her. He was caging her in, pinning her into the counter and engulfing her like he always did, caging her in. Letting her know she was his. They were both his.

She heard Evan murmur "Something beautiful," but she could barely hear his voice over the pounding of her heart when his hands left the counter and moved to hold her hips instead.

His fingers dug into her hips and (Y/n) shivered when Evan tilted his temple down into hers. The look in his eyes was like a burning intensity. He hadn't been this close to her in a while. At the scan last week he had kissed her, but those touches had been fleeting. He couldn't display too much PDA and make the midwife uncomfortable, and the after Eddie caught him, he couldn't get within ten feet of (Y/n).

But now, he had no one to stop him and no one to try and act civil around. He was doing what he could when he could, and the way he held her made (Y/n) feel like he was a starved man being shown a feast.

"Bonnie." The name rolled off (Y/n)'s lips in a quiet whisper and her trembling hands began tapping the counter, unsure what to do with herself.

At least with Chris in the living room, there was no chance of Evan trying anything too seductive or carrying her to the bedroom like he had done a few months ago. He could only do so much with their nephew being in the next room and still within earshot of them.

She liked that name. It was cute, it was a name that meant beautiful and it was one (Y/n) could see herself calling the little girl who would soon be in her arms. And when she saw Evan's lips stretch into a smile, she knew he liked it too.

"Bonnie Buckley." He grinned like the devil but the undertone in his voice spoke a thousand volumes. She was having his last name. Evan knew what Eddie would say. He would want her to have (Y/n)'s last name, he wouldn't want Evan having any rights or claims to her, but that wasn't happening.

Evan would do what he had to in order to make sure his girl had his last name, and he was going on the birth certificate whether Eddie liked it or not. He didn't care what he had to do or what charms he had to put on (Y/n) to bend her to his will. This was non-negotiable.

(Y/n) found herself nodding along to the name, but she choked on her breath when Evan's lips found hers and his hands slipped beneath her shirt. His lips were bruising, but his touch wasn't as forceful or as desperate as last week. He didn't have to rush and he didn't have to be tender or hold himself back. No one was here to watch or stop him.

He wasted no time sliding his tongue past her lips and taking the last of the oxygen she had stored in her lungs, leaving (Y/n) gasping against his lips.

It didn't bother him when her hands dug into his arms and when she tried to push him back, Evan just locked his frame and leant into her. His hands squeezed her tight into his embrace and when (Y/n) finally broke their lips apart, she twisted her head to the side.

He didn't like that. He didn't like her looking away from him. Why couldn't she just admit she wanted him half as much as he wanted her? Why couldn't she give in to his advances? He was starving from being away from her. She had to feel the same.

He moved one hand to grip her chin and twist her head back to face him, causing her eyes to widen and her plump lips to part. That was all he needed to dive down for another kiss.

"T-the-" (Y/n) tried to speak against his lips, but Evan only kissed her deeper. He seemed to understand though, when (Y/n) let go of his arm to waft her hand near the stove. The vegetables were fine, but the mince was going to burn.

Evan took care of that. He unlatched his hand from her chin and expertly turned off the gas, dumping the pan on the side so it wouldn't burn and the food would cool. He would cook it later, it could wait. It wouldn't take long to cook, and Evan was busy.

Shivers tore down to (Y/n)'s does and she felt like her arms were turning numb and cold when Evan wormed both hands beneath her shirt. He roamed his fingertips across her bump a few times, tickling her skin and feeling the way the baby wriggled and came to life at his touch. It made his lips smile against hers and the excitement thrilled him and made him sink his teeth down into (Y/n)'s lip, making her jump against him.

(Y/n) tried again to nudge Evan backwards because he had her pinned into a corner. Her lip felt bruised from both his kissing and the way he sank his teeth down into her lip with fever.

She managed to push him back two feet, but her hands quickly grabbed his shoulders to steady herself when Evan leaned down into her and knocked her off balance.

His lips left hers and dove down to attach to the side of her neck and (Y/n) squeaked when Evan hastily wormed his hands beneath the waistband of her leggings to hold her bum. His fingers dug into her flesh and he pulled her that little bit closer until there was no space between them and every ridge and curve was pressed into him.

"Evan- Evan no." (Y/n) twisted from side to side, but it did nothing to deter the man in front of her that seemed like an animal unleashed.

She could feel him chuckling into her throat, grazing his teeth along her skin and biting hickeys into her neck every now and then as he roamed around every part of her skin he could find. He was exploring her like he was charting a map out of her.

"Why? Big brother isn't here to stop me. Don't you want me, baby?" That tone of voice had (Y/n)'s knees quivering. That was the voice he used when he wanted something.

That was the tone Evan used when he asked her if she was seeing someone from work. It was the voice he used to ask her who she was texting or where she had been after work. And it was the voice he used to butter her up when he told her she was being silly for not believing him over someone else.

Evan knew how to twist every tone into something sugary and how to get his words just right so (Y/n) either felt like she was going against him or like she couldn't respond at all. She didn't want to upset him or make him angry. She would rather give in and go along with what he said, like always, than start a fight when she didn't have anyone here- like Eddie- to stand in her corner and fight with her.

"Chris… he-"

"He isn't watching. Let me hold my girls."

(Y/n) tightened her hands on his shoulders, but she didn't move. She didn't say anything. She let Evan continue tracing his lips along her neck and squeezing her flesh tighter and tighter until he was surely going to bruise her and leave hand indents in her skin.

When he found his way back to her lips and took them like ownership, (Y/n) didn't respond, but she didn't pull away either. He was holding her so tightly it almost hurt, but the yearning in his embrace was unmistakeable. He'd missed her. He wanted to hold her. He loved her and their baby, so much. Probably too much.

Evan smiled into the kiss and relented just a little, kissing her with more passion and a bit less fever than before. He was gentler when he glided his tongue across her lower lip and he let her take in a breath so she didn't go lightheaded. He loved the way all he had to do was lean forward and (Y/n) was tilting back in his arms, clinging to him tighter so she didn't fall. Just like he was holding her over the edge of a cliff and she was hanging onto him like he was her salvation.

He loved the way her stomach curved and moulded against his abdomen and let him feel the round of kicking their baby girl was giving out.

He loved how all he had to do was put on his voice and hold her and (Y/n) gave in.

"My girls," He murmured against her lips, feeling (Y/n) quiver and melt into his touch when he slithered one hand around the side of her thigh to the base of her stomach. The elastic of her leggings stayed tightly digging into his wrist, but all Evan could concentrate on was his fingers dancing across (Y/n)'s bump and the way it caused (Y/n) to shiver and twist in his arms.

And with Eddie still being at work for another two or three hours, it gave Evan plenty of time to work on (Y/n). She had already given in to Chris and told him she would be moving out. Evan was going to pull whatever tricks he had to so (Y/n) relented and moved in with him.

A gasp caught at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she tried not to let her knees buckle when Evan cooed "I love you, both of you." Into her mouth.

She knew anything she did was going to be inevitable now. Evan was going to get his own way; he always did.

He would feign ignorance. He would tell her it was for the best that she moved in with him. He would be on his best behaviour, he would win her over and make her tell Eddie that this was the only option. They would co-parent their baby together, they had to do this together.

Evan would agree to anything. He would let Eddie come round every day and check on him. He would let Eddie set as many rules as he wanted if it got Evan's girls living with him, where they belonged. Eddie couldn't refuse, not when everyone thought he and (Y/n) were a couple and Eddie could keep a check on them both. Maddie would be round to help (Y/n) anyway, she was going to be a sister to (Y/n).

Evan needed his sister to be on (Y/n)'s side, to care for her and help her so (Y/n) could lean on Maddie instead of Eddie. Maddie was on Evan's side, and Eddie was becoming a problem.

Eddie would give in. He wouldn't have a choice.

#imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #pregnant! reader #evan buckley imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #eddie diaz #dark! buck #this is fate

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testprepchicago · 1 year ago

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leviathanspain · 2 years ago

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hi 🖤 idk if this is a good request? lol but i’d really like to read the ways carmen prefers to be with reader than claire/noticing she’s THE one and not the other way round, maybe there was a little bit of an overlap??? not necessarily cheating but- and how sugar or richie or syd notice that they are endgame

i wanna be yours

carmy berzatto x reader

synopsis: enemies to lovers, carmy likes the attitude he’s developed when he’s around you, far more than being with his girlfriend

part 2

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you knew he didn’t like you.

richie had hired you, after you had walked in with a pile of resumes, dropping off five copies of yours before walking off. he didn’t even get a word in, admiring your style of exiting instead.

he had called you not even an hour later and asked when you could start.

and here you were, a week into waitressing at the bear.

it was supposed to be this prestigious new restaurant opened by some hotshot chef. but you couldn’t be quite sure, chicago had just recently become your home. but quickly you learned the dynamics, except for him, who wouldn’t look you in the eye, let alone talk to him.

“y/n!” richie slammed a hand on the door, swinging it open, “third time calling, where is she?” he looked around in the kitchen, eyes searching for you.

richie looked at carm, who was just finishing a conversation with sydney, “yo cousin! have you seen your employee? her shift started twenty minutes ago!” his shouts drew eyes from the rest of the kitchen staff and carmy turned, sighing slightly as he walked up to richie.

“she’s your employee, cousin. you hired her, you deal with it.” his lip twitched up slightly and richie sighed, throwing his hands up, “it’s shot to hell, all of it!” he slammed another hand on the door and back to the front of house.

suddenly, you barreled through the kitchen’s back door, a bag on your shoulder, impossibly stuffed with belongings as you hurried to the locker room. carmy sighed with annoyance upon seeing you. he turned back around and tried to find something to busy himself with.

“hey boss,” you looked at carmy, who didn’t look up from his cutting, “sorry i’m late there was some-“ you had prepared an excuse! carmy didn’t say anything just shook his head, “don’t wanna hear it, go talk to richie.”

you felt your cheeks burn red with embarrassment as you bowed your head, shuffling past him and out of the kitchen.

“fucking finally! i was beginning to think you thought this shit was optional.” richie spat, throwing a towel at you, “start wiping down the tables for dinner.” you sighed, taking the towel off your chest, where it landed and stuck, and threw it onto a table.

for a moment, you watched as you wiped the table, before looking over at richie, who had his brows furrowed over the cash drawer.

“why does he hate me?” you had an arm on the counter, lips pouted slightly.

richie sighed, knowing exactly who you were asking about. “carmy’s just carmy.” you groaned loudly, “that’s all anyone ever says. it’s just an excuse for him to act like an asshole.”

richie shrugged, “that’s all i got. forget about it and just keep scrubbing, we don’t pay you for nothing, sweetie.”

you blew a breath out, doing just as he said.

“can you please tell carmy that i need friday off?” you hung onto richie’s arm, pulling him as he tried to run away from you earlier. you had been talking his ear off all day about your trip, and how you’ve been needing this.

richie pulled his arm back and held his hands up, “i’ll see what i can do. no promises though, friday night and it’s just me and you up here? we’ll see.” he tried to be realistic in a nice way, although he knew there was no way in hell you’d be able to get that day off.

“we’ll see isn’t good enough, rich. i really, really need this.” you had clasped your hands together to further express your desperation, and richie groaned, “ask him yourself then! im sick of having to be the bridge between you two.”

you blinked, “maybe if i knew why carmy hated me, then maybe i’d do something about it. but fine!” you walked over to the kitchen door, pushing it open. inside, you found the kitchen staff cleaning up. you refreshed your greeting with them before asking about carmy. sydney had directed you to the office, where only a dim light was the indicator that he was in there.

it took you a moment to build up the courage to knock, but the door swung open before your hand even reached it. carmy stood there, nostrils flared as if he had just taken a deep breathe, redness around his eyes, exhibiting his exhaustion.

there was genuine surprise on his face to see you, and you had to withhold a breath, “hey boss.” his blue eyes locked onto yours for a mere second before they floated away, resting somewhere on the wall behind you.

“what’s up?” his voice raised the question and you nodded, “right- i already talked to richie and he told me to ask you, and i don’t know if you’ll even say yes-“

“get to the point.” of course, you should’ve known by his fingers tapping against the door that he was getting impatient. he was important, and constantly busy, he didn’t have time for you or-

“i need friday off.” you breathed, feeling the release of your tension in your shoulders. you almost heaved just as he answered, unsure of what he would say.

“yeah, i guess that’s fine.” he shrugged slightly before clearing his throat. he closed his eyes slightly as your face lit up, “really? thank you, boss. i-“

“can i get past?” carmy interrupted your words and stared at the door, your body halfway covering it. “yeah- of course.” you scooted further into the office as carmy pulled on the doorknob. you felt the edge of the door tap your back, and you shuddered as it swung back and slammed as he left.

blowing out a breathe, you opened the door, eyes accidentally catching carmy’s, who was standing near the kitchen door. you looked away first, still reeling from the interaction in the office. as much grace as you’ve been giving him, it was getting exhausting having to hold yourself back.

“why is he so-“ you struggled for the words to describe your boss, especially to richie. you were frustrated, carmy’s constant dismissal of you, even when you were asking for something that would affect him and his workday, he didn’t care!

“y/n, it’s just cousin. he’s harmless, don’t worry about anything. you got the day off?” richie turned to look at you, your mouth still in a pout, but you nodded nonetheless, “yeah i did.”

“that’s good! just be happy you got it off, hmm?” he tried to be a mediator, tried to be nice and hear you out, but after hearing the two of you express your anguish over the other, day after day, he was getting sick of it. “why’d you ask for it off again? i thought you didn’t have a life.”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you stared at the ground for a moment, “that’s true. it’s my father’s- was, my father’s birthday.” you laughed slightly, pausing before speaking again, “he grew up here, going to the local theater with his father for his birthday every year. we’d make family trips every year to come back to chicago, watch movies with him in the same theater and share a slice of cake. after he passed, my sister and i were the only ones who did it for a while, but then she got married and suddenly, it was just me.” you shrugged, “and then i moved to chicago permanently, into the same house that my father lived in. and i got a job here.” you smiled weakly, “yeah.”

richie nodded, “yeah.” matching your tone of voice. he didn’t want to speak, letting himself sit with that. you were nice enough, a good kid, and he saw something in you, a little spark just wanting to be ignited fully. he didn’t know what it would take, but it seemed like you didn’t either.

carmy hadn’t realized that he had eavesdropped the entire conversation between you and richie until richie came into the kitchen, slamming the door against carmy, who had stood there, frozen, captivated by your story.

“cousin- get the hell out of the way!” richie barely glanced at carmy, too in a rush to even think to slow down.

carmy looked down at the door as he pushed the door open, out into the dining room. he looked up to see you wiping down the counters. you had a wet rag under your hand, and you were lost in thought as your hand moved in a circular, repetitive motion. you didn’t even notice him as he inched closer, unsure of what he was going to say when you noticed him.

“hey.” carmy realized he was speaking, and as you looked up, your attention. you couldn’t help but smile, this was the first time that you had seen him so still, and so in thought.

“hey.” you returned his greeting, letting the rag go, you turned your full attention to him. he laughed nervously and that made you smile even more. it was odd, how he changed so suddenly with you.

you raised an eyebrow, “is there something wrong?” he hadn’t said anything else, just staring in thought.

he shook his head, and returned himself to the kitchen.

“weird.” you exhaled, watching as the door swung shut behind him. how could carmy go from being the biggest asshole to you, to randomly greeting you then going silent.

you’d talk to richie about it later, but for now you had work to finish.

“claire.” carmy looked surprised to see his girlfriend. it was friday, and normally she stopped by on saturdays. “i thought you worked on fridays.” he pulled her into the office and claire shrugged, “i got off early, just to come see you.”

carmy nodded, “yeah. yeah.” claire raised an eyebrow at him, “i cant leave early tho. y/n asked for the day off and i didn’t realize how much she does so-“ he cut himself off watching as claire’s expression soured slightly.

carmy sighed, “i know- but i’m her boss, im going to have to talk to her eventually.” claire rolled her eyes, “god, i-“ she cut herself off and stood up, “that’s fine, carmen. i understand, really.” her tone sounded irritated as she opened the door. carmy found himself standing to rush after her, but stopped himself.

had he really made a judgement on you based on an experience claire had with you in grade school? so far, you hadn’t mentioned claire to be someone of the past, and carmy had wondered why.

carmy blinked, suddenly getting the urge to rush after claire. but as she walked right out the front door, carmy realized that he had been too late. normally, the guilt would set right in, but as he stared out into the dining room, he could imagine you standing at the counter, eyes shying away from his.

saturday had been a rough start for you. you had spent the whole night before, sobbing at the movie theater. your eyes had puffed up so much that you had to go home, barely able to see the movie through your tears. this time of year was rough for you, especially since your family hardly called. your father had been the glue to hold all your differences together, but it seemed not to have a lasting affect.

when you had arrived late to work, yet again, you had expected carmy to give you the silent treatment, or possibly even yell, but he hadn’t said anything.

except,

“i’m sorry about your dad.” he had looked down at the floor when he said it. you stared at him, shocked that he said anything to you besides the usual, and that he knew about your father.

“how long as it been?” more. he was talking more to you, “uhh-“ you couldn’t contain yourself, “two years. but it feels like-“

“yesterday. yeah i know.” he finished your sentence. “i lost my dad too. a while ago.” he shook his head, as if shaking the feeling that came along with it.

you nodded, holding a small smile that carmy had actually made conversation with you.

“thank you. and im sorry for your loss as well.” you brushed past him, still reeling.

months passed, changing things with time, including carmen.

not only had he become a better boss, but you could consider him a friend. transitioning to kitchen staff had made that happen, including moments that made you think of him as more.

there was no doubt of the chemistry you had with him. everyone noticed it, and sydney had half the mind to encourage it.

“you work so well together! he needs something and you’re there with it! it’s actually insane, like did you guys come from the same planet?” her voice got a little high as she rambled on and you laughed, “what planet would that be, syd?”

she shrugged, “something of greatness. i mean, he’s even said it himself-“

you held up a hand, ending her little ramble right then and there, “sydney. i am not anything like the world renowned chef that runs this place. im not even a sous! i was waiting tables just a month ago.” your hand pointed out to the dining room and sydney threw her hands up, “that’s exactly my point!”

you rolled your eyes, “please stop.” you couldn’t hear her anymore, not while carmy was just minutes from rounding the corner.

“want one?” carmy had noticed you were gone. the rush was starting to slow and you had decided to take a break, not knowing he would follow. there was a cigarette hanging in his mouth glumly, a lighter being tossed between his hands.

“i don’t really smoke.” you answered earnestly. carmy brought the lighter up to his mouth, taking a moment to light it. he inhaled, and you caught yourself staring at him as he exhaled.

“you don’t really?” he sat down, closer than he probably realized. you turned to look at him, eyes hooding as they focused on his cigarette. “mhm.” you answered, leaning a cheek on your hand.

you were reaching out before you realized, fingers wrapping around the cigarette, pulling it from his mouth and into yours.

carmy watched you with surprised eyes, as you took a long, deep drag. you exhaled it, hand outstretched to return it. he took it, smiling as he chuckled.

“i’m quitting.” you admitted. looking at carmy, waiting for him to react. he didn’t, and you laughed, “did you hear me, carmen?”

carmy took another drag, pulling out the cigarette to flick it against the concrete step, “no you’re not.”

“i am- i already talked to richie and syd-“ you found yourself trying to justify your decision until he raised his voice, “no you’re not! i said no!”

you flinched, not used to having him scream directly in your face. he didn’t need to, and so he never did.

until now.

your ears were still ringing. you had been staring at carmy’s side profile for five minutes, as he stared ahead in silence.

finally, “why not?” the pure shock had kept you quiet, but you had built up emotion, and your voice couldn’t help cracking.

carmy shrugged, “just don’t. just give me time, alright.”

your frustration grew with his vague answer. he was refusing your resignation, and now he was refusing to tell you why?

carmy panted quietly. he had been in the office for more than twenty minutes, watching as he phone buzzed with call after phone call from claire.

he couldn’t pick up, not when his head was full with thoughts of you. he knew it was wrong, he knew that claire should be the only girl on his mind, but she wasn’t and he felt horrible.

he stared at the phone, swallowing thickly as he picked up the phone, opening a desk drawer and tossing it in.

ever since he had found out that you had no idea who his girlfriend was, and that her entire reasoning to dislike you had been a lie, it had strained his relationship. but claire had been close to catching onto his disillusionment, and it seemed like she reached it.

he opened the office door, breathing in deeply as he saw you in the kitchen, eyes red rimmed but still diligently at work.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy angst #carmy berzatto angst #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy berzatto #carmy smut #carmy x y/n #carmy fluff #the bear angst #the bear #the bear smut #the bear fanfiction

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lucydarkrain · 5 months ago

Text

Zombie Apocalypse/World War Z AU

Rapunzel Corona

Rapunzel is the most knowledgeable about medicine and pathology among the survivors. Before the virus outbreak, she was a clinical intern at the San Francisco School of Medicine. Initially, after the outbreak, she was determined not to play the hero. However, after witnessing countless innocent lives perish before her eyes, she decided to uphold the Hippocratic Oath. From that point on, she vowed to help anyone she could save. While she appears full of survival instinct and often encourages others to keep going, deep down, she has long been prepared to face death calmly. Rapunzel embarks on this journey to reach Chicago, where she hopes to find an old friend of her mentor, Dr. Gothel, and uncover the origin of the outbreak by identifying patient zero.

Rapunzel’s First Day

On the first day of the outbreak, Rapunzel witnessed chaos at the hospital. She saw medical staff hurriedly wheeling patients out of the elevator, their faces pale with fear. Passing through the crowd, she caught a glimpse of the grotesque appearance of a patient, the strong scent of blood making her stomach churn. While taking the elevator to leave, she saw the same patient violently attack the doctors. Thankfully, the elevator doors closed just in time, sparing her.

Back in the lobby, Rapunzel struggled to process what she had just seen. The hospital still appeared normal, but she recalled her mentor, Dr. Gothel, mentioning a contagious disease that had recently surfaced in Panama. While running to the attending physician’s office, Gothel appeared, urging her to leave immediately. She handed Rapunzel her notebook, explaining that the disease had already reached California and was spreading rapidly. Suddenly, an ambulance crashed through the hospital’s glass walls, causing widespread panic. Gothel told Rapunzel to leave California and go to the address recorded in the notebook to find her.

As zombies overran the hospital, Rapunzel was saved by her EMT colleague, Cassandra, who helped her fend off the undead. The two managed to escape the hospital in a car. Though they initially planned to stick together, Cassandra was attacked by zombies shortly after their escape. Realizing her imminent death, Cassandra sacrificed herself to protect Rapunzel. Devastated, Rapunzel drove into a deserted countryside where she finally allowed herself to grieve. Wiping her tears, she began planning her next steps for survival.

Encounter

On the fifth day after the outbreak in San Francisco, Rapunzel encountered Jack sitting on a highway fence, smoking a cigarette. Covered in blood, he looked infected at first glance. Initially planning to ignore him, she remembered Cassandra’s help and her own oath as a doctor, eventually deciding to stop and ask if he needed a ride.

Items/Weapons

• Medical Kit: Contains disinfectants, iodine, bandages, antibiotics, sedatives, etc., scavenged from a pharmacy.

• Frying Pan: Her signature weapon. Unskilled with firearms and warned about their recoil by Jack, she once saved herself with this pan and gradually became proficient with it.

• Notebook: Dr. Gothel’s pathology notes, containing information about the virus and theories about potential sources. It also includes the Chicago address of Gothel’s old friend.

• Axe: A relatively effective weapon after learning zombies’ weak points.

Jackson (Jack) Overland Frost

Jack is the melee combat expert among the survivors. After graduating high school, he served in the military for a year, giving him strong physical and reflexive abilities. Before the outbreak, he was just an ordinary boy working part-time at a Dairy Queen. As the virus spread, Jack quickly learned how to fight off zombies and, for a time, even found a grim sense of enjoyment in the violence. Initially, he planned to exploit Rapunzel’s kindness to take her supplies, deeming her idealism naive in this cruel world. However, her repeated acts of kindness and her story eventually led him to trust her and believe in her theories. Over time, his personality began to revert to its original state, and he started trusting her. Jack’s goal is to reach Washington, D.C., where he hopes to reunite with his former commanding officer, North. Believing North, who once worked at Homeland Security, might have a solution to the outbreak, Jack is determined to find him.

Jack’s First Day

On the first day of the outbreak, Jack was on his way to pick up his younger sister, Emma, from school. Noticing panicked parents rushing to take their children home, he felt an ominous sense of dread. Taking Emma, he hurried back home, witnessing people fleeing in terror and infected individuals attacking others. The chaos triggered Emma’s asthma, but Jack couldn’t find her inhaler. He drove to a pharmacy, where people were looting supplies in a frenzy. Grabbing essentials, he and Emma fled the scene.

Back home, Jack thought they could escape with their parents, only to discover his mother had already been infected by a neighbor. She attacked him and Emma, forcing Jack to grab a handgun from a drawer and shoot her. Only later did he realize she was no longer his mother. Emma, frozen in shock, revealed a bite on her wrist. Tearfully, she begged Jack to end her life before she turned into one of them. Overwhelmed with grief, Jack carried out her final wish and vowed to survive in her honor.

Encounter

A week after the outbreak, Jack ran out of bullets. His car, damaged during previous attacks, broke down on the highway. With no will to live, he sat on the roadside fence, smoking and waiting for the end. Hearing a car stop, he looked up to see a young blonde woman asking if he needed a ride.

Items/Weapons

• M1911: A handgun from his parents’ bedroom, used to kill his infected mother and sister. It played a key role in his early survival.

• .45 ACP: A handgun obtained from a gun shop during his journey with Rapunzel, which he now carries at all times.

• Shotgun: A weapon stored in his car, frequently used in battles.

• Gold Necklace: Originally Emma’s, containing family photos. After her death, Jack has worn it constantly.

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III

Hiccup is the brains of the survivor squad. Before the virus outbreak, he was a university student in Los Angeles. During his freshman year, he was hazed by a fraternity, which led him to successfully hack into all their members’ computers as revenge. Before the outbreak, he was quiet and reserved, but the absurdity of the situation turned him into a chatterbox. His destination during the escape is Minnesota, having heard it’s a peaceful place to retire.

Hiccup’s First Day

It all began when Hiccup was on his way back to his dorm. He noticed several helicopters flying overhead and an accident at a nearby intersection, with police and ambulance sirens blaring. Growing uneasy, he quickened his pace. In the park ahead, he saw someone being attacked, and though he didn’t want to believe it, he realized he was witnessing a scene of cannibalism. Glancing back, he saw people at the intersection abandoning their cars and fleeing in panic. Without knowing what they were running from, Hiccup instinctively joined them. Turning his head, he saw someone emerging from a nearby restaurant being chased and bitten by a grotesque figure. This horrifying sight prompted Hiccup to count how long it took for the bitten person to transform—it was just fifteen seconds.

As more and more infected appeared, Hiccup fled into a dark alley, where he desperately pried open a manhole cover and climbed into the sewers, narrowly escaping death.

During his escape, Hiccup encountered a stray black cat with only one ear. He initially wanted to name it “One Ear,” but the cat clearly disliked the name. The cat stared intently at Hiccup while he ate, and though he first mistook it for a zombie, he relaxed upon realizing it was just a hungry animal. He shared some food with it, but whenever he tried to touch the cat, it reacted with hostility. Once, it even bit his hand with its still-growing teeth. Hiccup didn’t resist and let the cat vent, which led to the cat eventually following him everywhere. Though he initially wanted nothing to do with the cat, Hiccup found himself saving it from a horde of zombies. Later, when he injured his leg and thought he was doomed, he told the cat he would never eat it and urged it to leave him behind. However, the cat refused to abandon him. Realizing his wound was just a scratch from metal debris, Hiccup named the cat “Toothless” and decided to find a home for both of them.

Encounter

Hiccup and Toothless were eking out a living in a supermarket on the outskirts of town. On the sixth day of the outbreak, Hiccup woke to the sound of movement. Gripping a baseball bat, he cautiously approached the pharmacy aisle, where he saw golden hair trailing on the floor. Following the hair, he found Rapunzel scavenging for medical supplies. Startled by the noise, Rapunzel grabbed a frying pan and faced him defensively. Jack, hearing the commotion, quickly located them. After confirming everyone was human, Jack relaxed but remained vigilant, questioning Hiccup about the wound on his leg. Hiccup assured him that if he had been bitten, he would have turned already.

Seeing signs of infection, Rapunzel gave Hiccup antibiotics. Since Minnesota and Chicago were on the same route, she decided to bring Hiccup along to prevent his injury from worsening.

Weapons and Equipment

• Baseball Bat: Originally his roommate’s, it was Hiccup’s first weapon but proved ineffective, forcing him to rely on hiding during the first week.

• Spiked Club: A homemade weapon made by driving nails into a wooden bat.

• Fire Crossbow: A self-made crossbow modified to light its bolts with alcohol, enabling effective ranged attacks.

• Glock 19: Hiccup’s backup weapon, meant for either defense or ending his own life if necessary.

• Prosthetic Leg: After losing his leg in the Chicago incident, Hiccup crafted a prosthetic limb using available tools. With Rapunzel’s help, he adapted to it and eventually regained his ability to walk and run.

Merida DunBroch

Merida is the survivor squad’s long-range support. Before the outbreak, she worked as a horse-riding instructor at a Southern California ranch owned by her father’s old friend, MacGuffin. As a Scot, she would often revert to a thick accent or use slang when agitated, which her clients couldn’t understand. Hoping to reunite with her family in Virginia, she began her journey. Another goal was to retrieve her father’s firearms, stored in a hidden armory near their family farm, to better protect her loved ones.

Merida’s First Day

Merida was leisurely riding her beloved horse, Angus, across a plain when they neared the forest. Angus suddenly stopped, uneasy. Sensing something was wrong, Merida returned to the stables, noticing the other animals behaving restlessly as well.

Shortly after, she received a call from her mother, urging her to lock the doors and windows, mentioning that rabies outbreaks from East Asia had reached the U.S. The call became choppy, and several helicopters flew overhead. Her mother’s final words before the line cut off were to get home immediately.

Merida stopped by MacGuffin’s mansion to find out more. His son pulled her aside, saying his father was acting strangely, and asked her to wait in the living room. Moments later, she heard glass shattering and a struggle upstairs. Investigating, she was attacked by a rabid MacGuffin and his son. Grabbing a decorative sword, Merida defended herself. Guards burst in to help but were quickly overwhelmed and infected. Realizing the infected could only be killed by destroying their brains, Merida used a crossbow from the estate’s armory to put down MacGuffin and his son.

Returning to her ranch, Merida found Angus had fled but eventually reunited with him. Her attempts to warn neighbors were met with fear or disbelief, with one person even stealing her gun and ammunition. Cornered by zombies, Merida watched Angus distract the horde, giving her a chance to escape in MacGuffin’s car.

Encounter

Ten days after the outbreak, WHO declared a global crisis. Jack, Rapunzel, and Hiccup took shelter in a Beverly Hills mansion. While exploring, Rapunzel admired a painting when an arrow narrowly missed her, embedding itself in the artwork. Turning, she saw a red-haired girl aiming a bow at her. Jack, alerted by Rapunzel’s scream, pointed his gun at Merida, who claimed she had staked her claim on the house.

The standoff ended when Merida was startled by Toothless. Jack wanted to tie her up as a precaution, but Rapunzel later brought her food and a blanket, suggesting she join the group. Merida escaped that night, warning Rapunzel that kindness could be deadly in times like these. However, when zombies attacked the mansion, Merida returned and used her crossbow to save Hiccup, ultimately helping the group escape.

Weapons and Equipment

• Metal Bow and Arrows: Merida’s personal weapon, highly accurate and effective in close combat when necessary.

• Crossbow: Taken from the MacGuffin estate, it became her primary weapon.

• Carbine Rifle: Lightweight and effective for medium-range combat, often used to cover Jack’s blind spots.

• Shotgun: A last resort, cumbersome but reliable.

Plot Outline: Virginia → Chicago

After a long journey, the four finally arrived in Virginia, only to find that the virus outbreak in the state was not as severe as in cities out west. Perhaps due to the vast rural landscape and lower population density, there were plenty of zombies, but the situation wasn’t as catastrophic as they had feared.

Merida quickly found her family home but discovered it in complete disarray. The windows and balcony glass were shattered, and the kitchen bore evidence of a violent struggle, with knives and bloodstains scattered around. After thoroughly searching the house and finding no sign of her family or their bodies, the group realized that the DunBroch family, apart from Merida, had likely perished. Merida silently stared at a shattered family photo lying on the ground for a long time. She then led the others to break into her father’s armory. Inside, they found most of the weapons intact, except for her father’s beloved Remington 700 rifle and MAC-10 submachine gun, which were missing. The group scavenged all useful items before continuing their journey to Chicago.

During the journey, Hiccup wrestled with whether to leave the group and take Toothless to Minnesota to build a home for themselves. While staying overnight in an abandoned hotel in the countryside, the group held a simple farewell ceremony for him. After drinking, a tipsy Merida and Jack even joked about tying Hiccup to the passenger seat of their car to prevent him from leaving. Once Merida and Jack had fallen asleep, Rapunzel, who was on night watch, handed Hiccup the address of her destination in Chicago and told him he was welcome to find them anytime if he changed his mind. That night, Toothless rested on Rapunzel’s lap, seemingly sensing the tension in the air.

The next morning, the group said their emotional goodbyes. Hiccup and Toothless set off for Minnesota, while the other three continued their journey to Chicago.

According to the notes they carried, Rapunzel’s late friend had mentioned someone with the codename “Pitch,” whose address pointed to Chicago City Hospital. The group fought their way into the hospital and found Pitch in a private room. Pitch explained that the hospital’s pathology lab contained blood samples from Patient Zero, the first documented case of the outbreak, and recounted the events of the outbreak’s first day in Chicago.

Believing that information about Patient Zero could help develop a cure, Rapunzel insisted on retrieving the blood samples. Jack and Merida initially dismissed her plan as reckless but ultimately decided to join her. Pitch, amused by their determination, agreed to help. He drew them a map of the hospital and marked the location of the pathology lab.

The three braved numerous obstacles to reach the lab, only to find its door secured by a fingerprint scanner. As panic set in, the door suddenly opened on its own. They quickly locked it behind them, keeping the zombies outside. Just as they were trying to figure out what had happened, the intercom inside the lab crackled to life—it was Hiccup’s voice. He and Toothless, after deciding to rejoin the group, had successfully infiltrated the hospital’s control room and hacked into its systems to assist them.

With the blood samples in hand, the group reunited with Hiccup in the control room and returned to Pitch’s room, only to find it overrun by zombies. Before they left, Pitch revealed that the safest place in the world was Jerusalem, which had prepared extensively for the outbreak even before it began. He mentioned a massive wall called “Limbo” that successfully kept the zombies out. Rapunzel urged Pitch to join them, but he refused, explaining that he had lost his daughter and no longer had the will to continue fighting. The group reluctantly left as the zombies poured in, and Rapunzel, glancing back for a brief moment, was shocked to see the zombies ignoring Pitch entirely.

As the group fled in their vehicle, zombies attacked before the door could close, and Hiccup was bitten on the lower leg. Once the car was secured, Jack immediately amputated Hiccup’s leg to prevent the infection from spreading. Rapunzel quickly wrapped his leg with a cloth to stop the bleeding while counting down the crucial 15 seconds. Merida placed the hilt of her sword in Hiccup’s mouth to prevent him from biting his tongue in pain. As the seconds passed, Jack, trembling, held a gun to Hiccup’s head, ready to end it if necessary. When the 15 seconds elapsed and Hiccup showed no signs of infection, the group breathed a sigh of relief. Rapunzel disinfected and bandaged his leg, while Jack, still shaken, muttered that perhaps Hiccup shouldn’t have come back. Hiccup, pale and weak, stroked Toothless and replied that he felt safer with them.

Shortly after, Jack managed to contact North, attempting to negotiate safe passage for the group. Sensing hesitation in North’s response, Jack revealed that they had blood samples from Patient Zero and that his experience in the field made him an asset. In exchange, he demanded transport to Jerusalem’s Limbo. After a brief pause, North agreed to contact them within an hour.

An hour later, North instructed them to meet his team at Cleveland’s Terminal Tower at sunrise.

Upon arriving in Cleveland, the group prepared for the final sprint, using thick magazines to reinforce their arms and legs and carrying all remaining weapons and supplies. At sunrise, they fought through a relentless horde of zombies toward the helicopter. Hiccup fired his flaming crossbow to signal their position to the pilots. During the battle, Merida accidentally ingested zombie blood, and once aboard the tower, she prepared to leap to her death if she showed signs of infection. Rapunzel, panicked, tried to stop her, but Merida refused, counting down 15 seconds with her eyes closed. When no infection occurred, she finally boarded the helicopter.

The group finally escaped and arrived within the walls of Limbo in Jerusalem. Rapunzel and the blood samples were handed over to surviving WHO virologists. Jack was assigned to the defense team protecting the walls, Hiccup and Toothless received further treatment for his amputation, and Merida, to her surprise, was reunited with her three younger brothers, who had survived.

—— TBC.

#rise of the brave tangled dragon #merida #hiccup #how to train your dragon #tangled #mericcup #rapunzel #the big four #rotbtd #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #how to train your dragon 3 #how to train a dragon 2 #httyd #rotg #jack frost #rise of the guardians #pitch black #hiccup x merida #jackunzel

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