#if someone knows it I will uh… make this face -> :D

[wattice]

It’s that time of the week yippee!!

[dbphantom]

maybe i should have gone into practical effects instead of computer science...

[wigglyvania]

It's gotta be normal, surely, to want to draw a character, but look at their face & think "I want to inspect this fella, I want to put my hands all over & get a good look at this chap from more angles than there are individual fucking specks of sand on every beach out there, I want to measure out all their details & how all the bits of their bod's particular build will squash in this pose & stretch in this other, I want to study this fucker" right chat?

[osachiyo]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 by anonymous user ꒱. . . hello ! I really like your works, could I please request an insecure!reader with chuuya? and him fucking some sense into her? don't feel pressured to do this btw and feel free to ignore :D

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 note ꒱. . . here u go, nonnie ! I really liked this idea and sorry for taking so long on this request 😭 anyway, hope you enjoy ~~

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 c/w ꒱. . . (18+) n/sfw content, mentions of insecurities, body worshipper chuuya, praise, lowercase intended, hints of dumbfication, overstimulation, fingering, mirror sex, cunnilingus, chuuya eats it from the back !! 🗣️🗣️& more + not proofread

summary. . . you've been feeling insecure about your body and started to wonder if you were really good enough for someone like chuuya? but no worries, your lover doesn't mind reminding you how much he loves your body and more importantly, you.

you sighed, staring at your reflection in the fancy full-body mirror in front of you; god, you looked horrendous. you didn't know how chuuya, one of, if not the most beautiful man you've ever met, love someone like.. you.

what you also didn't know, though, was that your beloved chuuya had been standing in the doorway the entire time, slender figure leaning against the doorframe as a dull pain throbbed in his heart while he watched, heard you pick apart your body like it was the ugliest thing you had ever seen. he watched as you ran your fingers up and down the parts you hated the most, a frown tugging at your lips as you muttered something about "not being pretty enough". he didn't understand why you'd say such things about your body− all of those beautiful parts of yours that he cherished wholeheartedly.

you whipped your head around hearing the sound of the once slightly ajar bedroom door shut, your boyfriend entering the room. "hey doll, what're you up to?" chuuya's voice was heavy, laced with something you couldn't exactly put a finger on.

"hey, chuu," you smiled, though the action didn't meet your eyes. and chuuya could tell.

his eyes narrowed, gloved hands found their way around your waist, tugging you closer to him− your back flush against his chest. when did he walk all the way across the room?

"y'know, I heard everything right?" he muttered into your neck, strong arms tightening around your figure as you gulped nervously. "chuuya I−" "you're fuckin' beautiful. so don't say hurtful shit about yourself 'cause it for sure ain't true," he cut you off, now pressing soft kisses on the back of your neck to your shoulders, gloved hands reaching up your shirt to knead and gently caress your soft skin.

a whimper caught in your throat as chuuya's hands found your breasts− pushing your bra up to grope them under your shirt. "i love all parts of your body. fuck, you're so pretty. i'll fuckin' prove it to you if i have to."

"you see that, baby? see the way this pussy sucks my fingers in?" chuuya mused, now bare fingers plunging in and out of your sopping cunt as he had you spread in front of the giant mirror. "mm-! fuck, chuu−!" you were cut off by your own moans, beads of sweat forming on your forehead, making the little strands of your baby hair stick to your skin. "shh, baby. just focus on the way i finger fuck this pretty cunt, yeah?" your lover's voice was muffled by the soft kisses he was busy pressing all over your nape and shoulders, moving your hair out of the way to make it easier.

you could see everything in the mirror, from the way chuuya's slim fingers disappeared inside of your pussy to how much of a mess you've already become− glossy lips parted as loud moans and whines escape from your throat, the way your tits bounce and jiggle with each thrust of his digits. and hell, was it embarrassing. you jolted up when the tips of his appendages rubbed against that one spongey spot inside of your gooey walls− your jaw slacking as your eyes shut. only to receive a gentle but firm slap on your face from chuuya, "nuh-uh, baby. you're gonna watch how I please this beautiful body of yours," he growled lowly in your ear, fingers speeding up their pace as you twitch and whine in response. your vision was blurry− but you could still make out the way your face contorts to one of pure bliss in your reflection.

"yeaah− cum on these fingers, sweetheart," the ginger groaned as you soaked his fingers− your slick running down his wrist and staining the bed sheets underneath, soft curses and his name spewing out of your mouth as his fingers slowed down, aiding you to ride out your orgasm.

you gasped when he abruptly pulled them out of your still sensitive cunt− only to pop them in his mouth as he moaned from the taste of your juices melting on his tongue. "fuck, doll− I gotta taste you, need'a make you cum on my tongue−" he pushed you on your hands and knees before even finishing his sentence− a large hand pressing your back to a perfect arch, face down ass up.

"such a nice fuckin' ass," he groaned, fingers digging into the soft fat and spreading them as you whimper, pitifully clawing at the bed sheets. he playfully bit one of your globes, earning a whine in return which made him chuckle. chuuya's greedy hands ran down from your ass to your thighs, only to go back up to knead at your ass, "and these soft thighs− god, I could kiss 'em for hours."

and as if to prove himself, he started littering kisses all over your inner thighs, hands still kneading your ass before giving it a firm spank, making you jump. "hah, and of course−" he smirked before making his way to your pussy, "this pretty fuckin' pussy− prettiest one I've ever seen," he growled before diving in between your legs− hungry lips wrapping around your clit as you gasp out from the feeling.

"fu−ck! chuuya−!" you babbled, pussy still sensitive from your orgasm from earlier, his nose bumping against your slit as he runs his tongue in a zigzag motion across your clit. his fingers were spreading your ass apart for him, to get easy access to your sweet pussy that he wanted to devour so bad.

shamelessly nasty slurping noises came from between your parted thighs. your slick was already dripping down chuuya's chin as you tried your best to keep your gaze on the mirror, watching yourself getting eaten out from the back. fuck, your hair was a mess− your bare figure covered in bites and bruises that your boyfriend gave you, claiming it was his way of showing you were his. your makeup had been completely ruined; mascara running down your cheek in inky streaks, lipstick smudged− you looked utterly debauched, chuuya's favorite look on you.

a gurgled moan came out of your mouth when two fingers pushed inside of your sloppy pussy, the mafia executive's tongue now writing his name on your clit. a deep groan rumbled in his chest when you tried to run away from the feeling of his tongue and fingers on you− pulling you back before harshly cracking a palm down on your left globe, before curling his fingers further into you. tears were falling freely from your eyes at this point, mouth dropped to an 'o' as you chanted his name like a prayer− "chuu− please, fuck! s'too much−!" you cried out, if it weren't for chuuya's death grip on you, you'd already have fallen face first into the matress.

"you can− fuuck− take it, sweet girl," chuuya moaned into your pussy, the vibrations of the sound making your toes curl and apparently that was the last straw for you− "fuckfuck! 'm cummin'− cummingg−!!" your eyes rolled back into your skull as you squirted all over chuuya's face, his own hips rutting into the mattress as his eyes widen− he wasn't expecting you to do that.

chuuya gave your messy cunt a few more licks before kissing your clit, then pulling away. you looked back to see his face completely drenched− him licking his lips as he gave you a lopsided grin. "holy shit, baby. that was..." he muttered, still dazed as he ran his clean hand through his sweaty orange locks. you were still panting, chest heaving as you tried came down from the euphoric high before looking away in embarrassment, fingers fiddling with the sheets− then suddenly, you got slammed back against the bed. face down, ass up, again.

you heard a metal clink− likely his belt. the sound of expensive leather hitting the floor snapped you back into reality, he must've tossed the belt somewhere. it wasn't long before your thoughts got quickly cut off, chuuya's heavy tip slapping against your clit a few times as you whined, begging him to give you a rest but no− he wasn't gonna stop until he was sure he fucked all those negative thoughts out of your mind− wasn't gonna stop 'till all thoughts but his left that pretty little head of yours. you just had to sit still and take it, like the good girl you were.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

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[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ make it known (op81)

You and Oscar have been friends for almost two decades and it’s been smooth sailing, except for now—when you have to make it publically known you're pining for him to even notice.

oscar piastri x childhood bestfriend!reader smau / face claim: none :D

warnings/notes: none really? one kinda bitchy comment from oscar bc he's king of the sassy man apocalypse. i love this so much, also do we like the new insta post format ?? im kinda meh about it.

liked by oscarpiastri, nicolepiastri, and others...

uruser: last week of cramming before the summer ( and visiting my favorite aussie in monaco ...)

user1: literally my queen.

nicolepiastri: best of luck with finals !!

⤷ uruser: thank u mama piastri !! 🩷

user2: best of luck yn!!

oscarpiastri: see u soon loser

⤷ ururser: u too bitch <3

⤷ logansargeant: what book are u reading now??

⤷ uruser: rereading pride and prejudice again

⤷ logansargeant:so we're watching it again after monaco ? @ oscarpiastri

⤷ oscarpiastri: movie night !!!

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others...

uruser: ' i know im just a fool who's willing to sit around and wait for you ' 🩷

user3: stop who are u pining for queen ??

oscarpiastri: now whats all this then.

⤷ landonorris: u sound like @ georgerussel

⤷ uruser: lando don't bring more brits on my page pls im scared of u people

⤷ georgerussell: right, whats all this then?

⤷uruser: BACK!!! OUT!!! SHOO!! ALL OF U BOYS. THIS IS FOR THE GIRLS.

user4: oh honey its BAD.

logansargeant: oh this is the approach?

⤷ uruser: im desperate man.

⤷ oscarpiastri: wow. i introduced you to logan and you tell him your secrets before me?

⤷ logansargeant: oscar. i beg you to use your brain.

⤷ user5: logan what do you KNOW?

liked by laufey, nicolepiastri, oscarpiastri, and others...

uruser: new low: crying over lovesick by @ laufey

oscarpiastri: and you still wont tell me who this is about?

user6: and shes so real for this !!

laufey: NO. i didn't mean to make you cry beautiful :(

⤷ ururser: you've revived me by commenting so its ok queen <3

user7: hot take: she's pining over oscar.

⤷ user8: clearly you havent been an oscar fan since prema. this is not a new take LMAOO

user9: oscyn truthers RISE

nicolepiastri: you are too pretty to cry over a pretty song ! be brave and follow your heart !

⤷ uruser: i would if i wasnt afraid it would all go horribly wrong :(

⤷ nicolepiastri: trust me, if he's as smart as he was raised to be, it wont!! 😉

⤷user10: MAMA PIASTRI KNOWS?

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, alexalbon, and others...

uruser: we'll end up like always.

user12: second time shes posted that handwriting....

user12: can someone explain how she and the f1 grid know eachother?? im so confused

⤷ user13: yn is oscar's childhood best friend!! her older brother karted with oscar and logan so she ussed to hang out with them a lot. shes an engineering student at MIT right now :)

lilymhe: oh my god STILL?

alexalbon: this is gonna go to after belgium PAY UP @ logansargeant

⤷ logansargeant: let me have faith alex please

⤷ uruser: i cannot BELIEVE you bet on this.

user14: is oscar writing the notes??

⤷ user15: you might be onto something...

logansargeant: we need to enact phase two. i swear it will work.

⤷ nicolepiastri: uh oh. be careful logan !!

⤷ logansargeant: i will mama piastri !

⤷user16: god speed logan

liked by williamsracing, logansargeant, alexalbon, and others...

uruser: help me tom cruise !! (i got abducted by williams this weekend)

tagged: logansargeant, alexalbon, lilymhe, oscarpiastri

logansargeant: tom cruise, use your witchcraft on me to get the fire off me !! ( it was great to have you !!)

user17: oscar only in the group photo... logan in almost every picture... yn and logan quoting talladega nights?? we are SO OVER OSCYN TRUTHERS.

williamsracing: blue is a nice change of color for you!

⤷ oscarpiastri: no >:(

⤷ uruser: LMAO OSCAR PLS

oscarpiastri: WOW. my TWO BEST FRIENDS hang out WITHOUT ME.

⤷ uruser: you both hang out without me ALL THE TIME.

⤷ logansargeant: i am the superior driver

⤷ oscarpiastri: and who has a seat next year

⤷ uruser: JESUS CHRIST OSCAR 😭

user18: IS THIS JEALOUSY?

user19: jealousy on oscar is FUNNY

alexalbon: i would say something but im afraid oscars gonna come at me too

⤷ oscarpiastri: 🧍‍♂️

⤷ alexalbon: @ uruser get ur man im scared

⤷ uruser: not my man

lilymhe: so fun to see you this weekend <3

liked by oscarpiastri, nicolepiastri, logansargeant, and others...

uruser: i forgot cats get jealous....

tagged: oscarpiastri

user20: THE IDENTICAL SHOE TYING PHOTOS IM IN TEAARRSSS

oscarpiastri: the cat agenda is so mean

⤷ uruser: says the man literally smacking me to get my attention

⤷ oscarpiastri: it worked didnt it?

nicolepiastri: oscar has always been like that since you two were very young!

logansargeant: phase two complete. good luck soldier 🫡

⤷ uruser: thank u logan, ive got it from here

user21: did they plan to make oscar jealous?? so he would admit he likes yn??

user22: SHUT UP THATS SO FUNNY

landonorris: oh thank god he'll stop whining now

⤷ user23: HELLO?

user24: OSCAR BEING JEALOUS OF LOGAN SHUT UPPPP

liked by logansargeant, alexalbon, oscarpiastri, and others...

uruser: logans plan worked?

tagged: oscarpiastri

logansargeant: and im still alive?

⤷ nicolepiastri: oscar won't kill spiders half the time, I didn't think he'd kill you, logan!

⤷ oscarpiastri: i was gonna ask kmag to hit you again (@ FIA this is a joke.)

⤷ uruser: oscar PLEASE THE FIA??

oscarpiastri: 🧡

⤷ uruser: wow u have such a way with words.

⤷ oscarpiastri: my pr team is staring over my shoulder i have to be careful

⤷ oscarpiastri: what i can say is sorry for being a blind idiot

alexalbon: i cannot BELIEVE this worked?

lilymhe: logan the mastermind, cannot wait to hear his speech at the wedding

landonorris: finally.

⤷ uruser: lando the strongest man thru this all

⤷ landonorris: i have heard oscar admit things you couldnt pry out of me.

⤷ oscarpiastri: literally what?

⤷ landonorris: ur mother is in this comment section, i can't say.

⤷ uruser: LANDO TEXT ME RIGHT NOW.

⤷ oscarpiastri: i was drunk probably

⤷ landonorris: stone cold sober. after practice during belgium?

⤷ oscarpiastri: oops.

⤷ uruser: JAW ON THE FLOOR.

[ariaxmu]

romance brewing

a theodore nott x fem!reader fic

summary: friends to lovers, just cutesy, fluffy n two lovesick cuties.

first time writing for theo !!!! enjoy, i hope its okay..

theo and i have been best friends since we were four. our parents met, were best friends, thus making us best friends. ill admit, a lot of people assume we are dating in secret anyway. it’s not true. we aren’t. just friends.

yes, just friends.

except not really. at least what i feel for him is anything but friendly. of course i’ve had my worries about how it might affect the friendship, but he’s my life. i cannot picture myself being with anybody else, ever.

hence why none of my previous relationships have worked. i compare every single one of them to him, and they just never, ever compare.

the only problem is i have no idea how he feels about me. pansy tells me, ‘that boy is completely in love with you’. but i just don’t see it. he’s always been sweet to me. i’m a shy person, he’s not. he’s protective of me, very much so. he’s confident, he’s a trouble maker, he’s gorgeous.

i get jealous when i see him talking to other girls, i’ve been heartbroken when he’s had previous girlfriends, i’ve pretended to be happy for him. no, i’m always happy for him, i want him to be happy, but i just wished it was with me.

i sigh, sitting up straighter as i realise where i am, sat in a circle with my closest friends in the common room. drinks scattered everywhere, red plastic cups messing up the room. the room a little blurry to me as my eyes glaze over from tipsiness.

theo is sat down beside me, chuckling as he watches draco do his embarrassing dare. i giggle, too, but not watching draco. watching theo’s pretty face curl into a smile as he laughs.

i swear sometimes when i look at him the world just stops, and it’s only him and i in the room together.

i’m snapped out of my daze as i hear my name being called by draco. i turn my head to him, smiling softly.

“okay pretty, your turn. truth or dare?” he asks mischeviously.

“umm… truth” i say, as i chose dare on my last turn.

“okay… have you ever been in love?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he winks at me.

my cheeks flush pink. “u-uh, yeah”

“really?? with who? you’ve only had two boyfriends!!” eno exclaims. i nod.

“doesn’t mean it was a boyfriend of mine.” i say quietly, blushing more as i grab my drink.

“well- tell us who?” theo says from beside me, eyes wide and cheeks a little red.

“no! my turn is over, someone else’s go now” i mumble, taking a sip of my drink.

“yeah nott, it’s your turn now” blaise smirks, “truth or dare?”

“dare” he answers confidently, winking at me. i go even more red. god. the things this guy does to me without even knowing. i’m certain everybody else knows how i feel, i fear im being way too obvious.

“i dare you.. to choose a girl from this circle to spend 7 minutes in heaven with.” blaise spoke as he smirked. my heart almost stops.

oh god. what if he picks pansy? or astoria? and i have to watch this happen? what if he comes out with their lipstick all over his mouth and- oh god i could throw up.

“y/n.” i hear him say bluntly.

i almost choke on the air. “w-what?” i say, utterly confused.

“i choose you. cmon” he says, standing up and grabbing my hand. i gulp, standing up with him.

“a-are you sure? you don’t have to do this if you really, really don’t want to” i mutter along as he pulls me to the small closet, shutting the door behind us.

“be quiet, of course i want to do this. you think i want to be in a closet with any of those girls?” he fake gags. i giggle.

“be nice” i mumble.

“i thought the easiest option would be for us to just hide in here for a minute” he explains, and the excitement and nerves dissapear from me.

“oh… i see” i say, smiling softly as i try to hide my disappointment. i guess part of me was hoping he wanted to be in here with me for yknow, that reason.

he leans back against the shelves, the warm light peeking through the small gap in the doorway, lighting up his pretty face. i gulp, noticing the close proximity.

“what do you mean, ‘oh… i see’” he mimics me, wearing a raised eyebrow with a smirk.

“nothing.. was just…. agreeing with you” i whisper.

“oh.. oh. you wanted me to drag you in here and kiss you huh?” he smirks, standing up and stepping a little closer to me. my entire face heats up.

“w- no!!!” i exclaim.

“don’t lie, you wanted me to kiss those pretty lips of yours?” he says with a teasing tone.

“stop” i pout.

“aw, your face is all warm. do i make you blush?” he says as the back of his hand brushes my cheek. oh god i might die.

“shush” i whisper.

“just teasing you, bella.” he says, leaning back against the shelf. “unless… unless you liked it?” he prods.

“uh..” i mumble.

“five minutes left!!” i hear pansy yell from outside.

i gulp.

“did you?” he says, eyes softening as he looks at me.

“i don’t know… maybe a little” i say shyly.

“i can’t see you, god i wish i could see you right now. swap with me” he says softly, holding my hips as we switch places, the door illuminating my face now.

“that’s better. you look pretty with your face all flustered. now tell me, did you like it?” he says, his confidence really shining through right now.

“okay fine yes, i did, a little i guess” i mumble out, looking up at him.

“hmm” he says, chuckling a little. “i knew it”

“shuttup” i groan.

“it’s okay… i like you too” he says, seemingly getting a little nervous himself.

“i-i didn’t say i liked you, i said i liked it.” i mutter.

he goes silent for a minute, jokes calming down as the air gets a little thick, the tension growing.

“do you.. yknow, like me?” he whispers.

“uh-” im cut off as the door swings open, pansy standing there with a smirk.

“times up lovebirds”.

theo looks at me, a little desperate looking as we both leave the closet, sitting back down with our friends. i put my hand on the floor, leaning to the side a little as i catch my breath and try to steady my nerves. he sits back down beside me, sitting the same as i am, putting his pinky finger over mine.

i look at him, a small smile on my face as he returns the same.

“okay- enzo, your turn!” pansy says, clapping her hands as she comes up with a devious dare for him.

i try to pay attention to the group but all i can focus on is what the heck happened ten minutes ago in the closet. does he like me back? his pinky is still hooked onto mine. i never got the chance to tell him i liked him. i spiral for another five minutes until i notice everybody standing up.

“huh? where we going?” i say confused.

“late night dip in the black lake, silly. come get ur bikini on under your clothes” pansy says, grabbing my hand and yanking me away to our shared room.

“you need to tell me what happened in there” she shreeks, being the only person who knows about my feelings.

“shhh. they’re only down the hall” i whisper yell. “to be honest i don’t know what happened. he started getting all flirty with me, told me he was just teasing me- but then things got all tense and serious and he asked me if i liked him!” i whisper, panicking.

“i knew it! he clearly likes you back oh my god this is so exciting” pansy paces the room happily as she changes into her bikini.

i grab a plain black one, tying my hair in a side braid as i put mine on, putting my clothes on over the top.

“so i don’t know, he almost kissed me, pansy. almost!!” i sigh.

“then let’s get going, because a romantic swim together in the lake is going to be the best thing for you guys right now. we’ll give you privacy, don’t worry” she winks, holding my hand as we meet he guys outside of the room, all of us walking down to the lake.

like hooligans, they strip down into their shorts and cannonball into the lake. i frown,

“is it really cold?” i yell out to theo.

“its warm!! its summer, bella. hop in” he says swimming closer to me.

i sigh, pulling my clothes off nervously as theo watches, a light blush on his cheeks and a cheeky smile. i throw my wand down beside my clothes, before sitting on the edge of the wooden board beside the lake.

“you gotta jump in!!” pansy says, launching herself into the lake and pretty much on top of draco. i giggle as i watch her. i look at theo.

“i’m not a great swimmer” i whisper, shyly. “you know this”

“that’s why i’m here, i got you. don’t worry” he says, holding his hands out, putting them onto my waist as i scooch into the lake, and his his arms. i squeak a little.

“it is cold!!” i shiver.

“you’ll adjust to it, come on, show me that little paddle of yours” he chuckles, letting go of me and swimming backwards a metre or so.

he’s always made fun of me for this. i can’t swim, traditionally per say, more so like a dog. i kind of wiggle my hands and feet and just hope for the best.

i manage to make it to him, gripping onto his shoulders again.

“you gotta stop making fun of me for that.” i pout.

“never. it’s the cutest thing.” he says softly.

i smile at him, as all of our friends swim over and break us two up. so much for privacy.

i hold onto the wooden plank on the side of the lake, watching as they mess around and dunk each other. i notice pansy whisper something to theo, to which he returns a nod. i furrow my eyebrows.

pansy comes over to me. “i’ll challenge the boys to a lap down to the other wooden plank. you stay here with theo. you need to tell him how you feel. or let him tell you” she winks, swimming backwards and taking the boys with her.

i push myself off of the wood and closer to theo. i kind of manage to float for a second, before he grabs my hips and pulls me into him.

“i got you” he mutters.

i look at him, the moon illuminating his face, just like the light from the door did earlier. but this is better. he looks so pretty.

“you’re beautiful” he breathes out, eyes locked onto mine.

“theo… i-” i stop myself, getting nervous again.

“don’t worry, i know” he mumbles, putting his hand on my cheek, thumb brushing off a splash of water.

“you know?” i whisper.

he nods.

it goes quiet for a moment, both of us just looking into each others eyes. i notice him get a little closer, before he goes for it.

he leans in, attaching his lips onto mine before i can even acknowledge. i hum a little from surprise, but soon i sink into it. it just feels right. my hands wrap around his neck; his gripping my hips as my legs wrap around his hips.

his tongue brushes my bottom lip as the kiss deepens, a little moan erupting from me as we both get a little more desperate.

his hands snake further down my hips. “t-theo” i whisper against his lips. “they’re coming back”

he pulls back, a little love struck and lips a little red and swollen from the kisses.

“god, i love you” he whispers, kissing my lips for a moment again.

“i-i love you too” i whisper back, heart erupting in happiness as finally it’s out there.

“oh, bella. finally” he whispers. “i wanted to kiss you in the closet earlier, but we didn’t have enough time.” he mumbles.

“i know, it’s okay, this is perfect” i whisper back, my cheeks all flushed as the water suddenly seems to be cooling me down.

his hands rub all over my body, our heads only visibly to our friends who are messing around a little further down the lake.

“i wanna go back inside” he whispers. “i just want to spend the night with you”.

“me too, teddy. i’m sure we could.. sneak away?” i whisper.

“mhm. sounds good baby” he says, sneaking a little kiss into my lips. i giggle, watching him hop onto the wooden plank, hair a little wet and the water dripping down his abs. i have to tear my eyes away from him, gulping as he smirks at me.

''you like what you see, hm?'' he winks.

''shush, help me'' i say, holding my arms up as he picks me up.

''mm, look at you'' he grins, wrapping his arms around my waist. i hear whistling and cheering from behind us, my face goes red as i cover it with my hands.

''ignore them, let's go'' he whispers, smirking as we rush back inside.

''have a good night love birds!'' pansy shouts after us.

and let's just say, we had a... good night. :)).

[sadnymi]

Alibi.

Slytherin boys x reader ( platonic) , Theodore Nott x reader ( not so platonic)

Summary: Summary: You accidentally got yourself involved in some Slytherin boys' drama.

I was deep in the forest, kneeling on a bed of pine needles, my hands clasped in prayer. The air was still, the only sound was the whispering of leaves above. I was right in the middle of asking for some divine intervention in my life when, out of nowhere, something heavy crashed into me from behind.

I was flattened to the ground with a shriek, my thoughts of divinity abruptly replaced with panic. "Merlin's beard! What in the name of—" I twisted around, ready to fend off whatever forest creature had decided to tackle me.

But it wasn’t a creature. It was Theodore Nott, one of the Slytherins. And he was bleeding. Profusely.

He groaned, clutching his side. "Sorry," he muttered through gritted teeth.

"Sorry? You're bleeding all over me!" I squealed, trying to push him off, but he was too heavy and I was too flustered.

"Calm down, will you?" he said, his voice surprisingly steady for someone who looked like they'd been in a fight with a hippogriff and lost. "It's just a little blood."

"A little blood?" I shrieked again. "It looks like you were stabbed! Wait, were you stabbed?"

He winced. "Yeah, probably. Can you stop screaming? You're making my head hurt."

"Stop screaming? You literally fell out of nowhere, bleeding to death on top of me! Of course, I'm screaming!" I finally managed to wriggle out from under him, kneeling beside him in the dirt. "Who did this to you?"

He groaned again, his face pale. "Don't know. Didn't exactly stop to ask."

I fumbled in my bag for my wand, hands shaking. "Okay, okay, just... just hold still. I’m going to try to stop the bleeding." I pointed my wand at his wound, but then my mind went blank. "Uh, what's the spell again?"

Theodore groaned, but this time it sounded more exasperated than pained. "Episkey. It's Episkey."

"Right, right," I muttered, feeling my face heat up. "Episkey!" The wound didn't heal completely, but at least the bleeding stopped.

Just then, we heard a rustling in the bushes. I turned, ready to scream again, and out stumbled none other than Mattheo Riddle, his face splattered with blood.

I let out another scream, louder this time. "What is it with Slytherins and blood today?"

Theodore winced. "Can you stop screaming? You're going to attract every creature in this forest."

Mattheo, looking a mix of annoyed and amused, glanced between us. "What in Merlin's name is going on here? Why are you screaming?"

"That's what I want to know!" I said, throwing my hands up. "First, he crashes into me, bleeding all over, and now you show up looking like you’ve been in a bloodbath."

Theodore groaned again, trying to sit up. "Mattheo, could you do us a favor and not kill her with another heart attack? She's already a mess."

Mattheo rolled his eyes. "Calm down. This isn't my blood." He knelt beside Theodore, checking his wound. "How bad is it?"

Theodore waved him off. "Don't worry. The boy who did this is already dead. I killed him after he stabbed me."

My eyes went wide, and I started to hyperventilate. "You killed a boy? You actually killed someone? Oh my God, we're all going to Azkaban! I was just praying, and now I'm an accessory to murder! What if they find the body? What if they use Veritaserum on us? I can't go to Azkaban, I haven't even finished my O.W.L.s! Oh God, oh God, oh God—"

Theodore, clearly at the end of his patience, slapped his hand over my mouth. "Can you please stop talking for one minute? You're not helping."

I kept mumbling behind his hand, my eyes wide with panic. He glared at me. "Why can't you just shut up for once?" He looked at Mattheo. "A little help here?"

Mattheo smirked, watching the scene unfold. "You seem to have it under control, Theo."

"Seriously," Theodore grumbled, pulling his hand away. "We're in the middle of a forest, I'm bleeding, and she's having a meltdown about Azkaban. Can this day get any worse?"

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I was just praying for some divine intervention, not a bloody crime scene!"

"Well, you got it," Theodore said dryly. "Now help me up, and let's get out of here before something else happens."

As we struggled to get Theodore to his feet, I couldn't help but mutter a quick prayer under my breath. "Please, if anyone's listening, just get us out of this mess."

Theodore chuckled weakly, wincing at the pain. "Yeah, good luck with that."

Just as we managed to get Theodore to his feet, the forest seemed to come alive with movement.

From the shadows emerged a group of masked men, all dressed in ominous black cloaks. My heart sank. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," I muttered.

Theodore groaned. "What now?"

Mattheo's eyes narrowed. "This day just keeps getting better."

I had a full-blown breakdown. "Who are they? What do they want? Why is this happening?" I shrieked, clutching Theodore's arm as the masked men closed in.

The leader of the group, his voice muffled by the mask, pointed at me. "Grab the girl!"

I promptly hid behind Theodore, using him as a human shield. "Why me? I don’t even know what’s going on! I was just praying! Praying! I didn't ask for this! Why would anyone want to grab me? I don't know anything! I'm not important! I was just trying to—"

The leader looked slightly puzzled. "You must be important if you're here."

"What?" I spluttered. "No, this is just some weird punishment because I sneaked out of Hogwarts! I was having a terrible week and needed some divine intervention, so I came to the forest to pray for guidance and peace and—"

"I don't give a fuck," the leader snapped, gesturing to his men. "Grab her!"

The masked men advanced, and Theodore stepped in front of me. "No one will touch her," he said, his wand raised despite his injury.

Mattheo mirrored his stance, wand also at the ready.

I peeked out from behind Theodore, still rambling. "Seriously, this is all a misunderstanding. I was just praying because I failed my Potions test, and Professor Snape looked like he wanted to turn me into a newt, and then my cat got sick, and I just needed some clarity in my life, so I thought, 'Why not go to the forest and pray?' But then Theo crashed into me, bleeding everywhere, and now you guys show up looking like Death Eaters on a budget! This is just a cosmic joke, right?"

The leader looked exasperated. "Shut her up."

One of the masked men tried to grab me, but Theodore and Mattheo both fired off stunning spells, sending the attacker flying back.

Theodore turned his head slightly toward me, his eyes serious. "You need to stop talking now."

I nodded, clamping my mouth shut, but my mind was still racing. "This has to be some kind of punishment," I whispered. "Why else would this be happening? Maybe I angered a forest spirit or something."

Theodore rolled his eyes. "Or maybe it's just bad luck. Now, please, stay quiet and let us handle this."

The leader, looking frustrated, signaled for the rest of his men to attack. "Get them all!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, praying silently. "Please, let this be over soon. And if we survive, I promise I'll never sneak out of Hogwarts again. Or pray in the forest. Or—"

Before I could finish my desperate plea, a figure appeared from the shadows and stabbed the leader in the chest. The leader collapsed, revealing none other than Lorenzo Berkshire, better known as Enzo, looking out of breath and slightly bewildered.

"Sorry, guys," Enzo panted, wiping the dagger on his sleeve. "There was this dragon—well, maybe it was a big bird. Hard to tell in the dark.“

Mattheo and Theodore wasted no time, seizing the moment of confusion. They grabbed the nearest masked men and swiftly dispatched them with a combination of spells and physical blows. The remaining attackers fled into the darkness, clearly not eager to meet the same fate as their leader.

Enzo, looking around at the chaos, spotted me and raised an eyebrow. "Wait a minute. Is this Y/N from Charms class? What are you doing out here?"

Before I could launch into my explanation, Theodore sighed and muttered, "Here we go again."

"I was just praying," I began "Well, I had the worst week ever. First, I failed my Potions test, then my cat got sick, and I just thought maybe if I could get some peace in the forest—"

Theo turned looked me dead in the eyes then slapped his hand over my mouth, his expression one of exasperated patience. "I swear, if I hear one more word about praying or forest spirits... or Potions tests or your cat, I'm going to lose it."

I gazed up at him, ready to argue, but then something struck me. His eyes. They were a striking shade of blue, filled with intensity and a hint of something softer, something...beautiful. I blinked, momentarily speechless.

Enzo, clearly amused by the whole situation, leaned over to Mattheo. "Is she always like this?"

Mattheo smirked. "Pretty much."

Theodore, still holding his hand over my mouth, looked at me with a mix of annoyance and something else I couldn't quite place. I nodded slowly, my panic subsiding slightly as I got lost in those mesmerizing eyes.

Finally, Theodore removed his hand, and I took a deep breath, determined not to start rambling again. "Okay, okay, I'll be quiet."

"Thank Merlin," Theodore muttered, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Enzo clapped his hands together. "Alright, now that we've got that sorted, how about we get out of this forest before any more dragons show up?"

As we started to move, I couldn't help but blurt out, "Enzo, there's no dragon out there, you idiot!"

Enzo turned to me. "And how do you know that?"

"Because dragons don't just wander around the Forbidden Forest chasing random students!" I snapped. "They’re kept in the Dragon Reserve, or did you sleep through that part of Care of Magical Creatures?"

Enzo raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And what about that time Hagrid smuggled a baby dragon into his hut? Ever thought about that?"

I scoffed. "That was a one-time thing! And it wasn't even a fully-grown dragon, it was a Norwegian Ridgeback hatchling! There's a huge difference!"

Enzo crossed his arms, a playful smirk on his face. "Well, maybe it was an escaped Ridgeback, then. You can't rule out the possibility."

I threw my hands up in frustration. "Escaped Ridgeback? Do you hear yourself? The chances of running into a dragon in the middle of the night are practically zero! You're more likely to find a Blast-Ended Skrewt out here than a dragon!"

I opened my mouth to retort, but Theodore swiftly grabbed me and pulled me away. I couldn't help but look at his strong, albeit bloody, hand on my waist, leaving a bloodstain on my skirt.

As I glanced from his hand up to his face, I couldn't resist commenting, "You've got a pretty good grip for someone who was just stabbed."

Enzo and Mattheo burst into laughter, and Theodore shot them a deadly look. They quieted down, though still wearing amused expressions.

Theodore leaned in close, his voice low and intense. "You will not say a word about what you saw tonight, understood?"

His proximity made my breath hitch, and I felt my heart race. Dirty thoughts flitted through my mind, and I mentally pleaded, Please, God, I didn't mean to have them. You shouldn't have made him that pretty if you didn't want me to have them.

"Y/N," Theodore said, his voice breaking through my reverie. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

I blinked, snapping back to reality. "Uh, yes. No talking about tonight. Got it."

He brushed the dust from my shirt and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The unexpected tenderness of the gesture sent a shiver down my spine.

"You two need a moment alone, or can we get moving now?" Mattheo said.

Theodore shot him another glare. "We're moving."

Enzo, called after us. "Hey, Y/N, if you see a dragon on the way back, be sure to let me know!"

I shot him a glare over my shoulder. "If I see a dragon, I'll make sure it eats you first!"

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 11)

Have a nice big chapter/part for the weekend! :D

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

Part 11:

Did.. did Charlie just say... Alastor?

You felt someone poke your face, multiple times, all at once, "Hey, Hey, miss bandage face, you good?"

You blink rapidly, being pulled out of your stupor and laugh awkwardly, "Ah haha, uh yeah. Yup, I'm good... Haha, thanks Angel.."

Angel just squints at you, not convinced of your act at all but just sighs and says, "Alright, whatever you say, weirdo.." and then returns back to chatting with Husk.

Vaggie, who was sitting next to you struck up a conversation, "Are you really sure you're okay to be up and around already? You look like you saw a ghost or something."

You briefly glanced at the radio that was sitting on the mantle on the wall before returning your attention to Vaggie, "Yeah, being up was much better than sitting doing nothing, I thought I was going to waste away if I didn't do something."

Vaggie sighs and nods her head, "I know the feeling."

"And.. I swear I thought I heard Charlie mention the name Al-"

"Alastor! You're back! We have a new guest staying at the hotel! Come say hi!" Charlie shot out of her seat as soon as she saw Alastor's shadows start to manifest, signaling his return.

You felt your blood run cold as your suspicions were confirmed. Yes, she just said Alastor. How common could that name be down here? This is just a coincidence, surely- Of all names!

"My, my dear Charlie, you seem quite excited! I haven't seen you bouncing off the walls like this in ages!" Alastor chuckles as he allows Charlie to practically drag him over by the wrist to the group.

He sounds like a radio host...

Your breath starts to quicken as Charlie guides him over to you, his aura feels so oppressive, unlike any Overlord you had ever met before... But what made your hair really stand on the back of your neck was the static noise that filled the air as he got closer. You felt your eyes shake and your gut sink in your stomach.

What was this feeling?

You gulp and look up, eyes wide, looking like a deer in headlights as you make eye contact with this "Alastor".

"Go on! Introduce yourself!" You felt Charlie nudge you excitedly, in an attempt to nudge you out of your frozen state.

On his face, a large, creepy grin/smile- (if you could even call it that) grew even larger on his face - a feat you didn't even know was possible. You felt like you should be scared but then... It dawned on you.

That feeling in your gut dissipated instantly and it felt like a weight got suddenly lifted off your chest.

This was Alastor. This was your Alastor.

Tears start rolling down your face uncontrollably as your body is racked with sobs.

"Heyyy! Hey! It's okay, (y/n)! I know Al can be a wee bit intimidating sometimes but I promise he's not a bad guy! Well... mostly.. haha..." Charlie trails off with a nervous chuckle as she scrambles around the lobby to find you some tissues to dry your tears.

Upon hearing your name said out loud, a loud record scratch filled the air.

"Haha... ha...Charlie, dearest! My, you'd think the years are catching up to me! Was that some sort of joke? Why, I didn't know you wanted to become a comedian! Did you say.. (y/n)? That must be a mistake. I've only ever known one person by that name and they surely couldn't have ended up in Hell of all places!" Alastor chuckles, the laugh track coming from his staff warping as he hovers over Charlie with an intimidating aura- thinking she was playing some sort of sick joke on him.

Charlie whips around to see Alastor up in her face and then she scrambles back, "Woah! What? Alastor! Gods, no, why would I joke about our new guest? That would go against everything i'm trying to do here!"

Alastor's gaze darts over to you, "You see, I think this '(y/n)' and I need to have a chat..." His eyes narrow as he makes quotation marks with his fingers as he says your name.

He walks towards you and grabs your wrist with force, finger like claws starting to dig into your arm- despite protest from Charlie and Vaggie to let you go- to stop harassing their new guest because you were still quite injured and fragile. Even Angel and Husk got up from their seats at the bar after hearing the commotion in the lounge and started yelling at him to stop hurting you because it was very apparent that you were in pain with how rough he was handling you.

Then, with a snap, he teleports you and himself up to his radio tower- away from all the commotion.

Alastor slams the door shut with a fury that you've never seen before, and locks it to make sure you won't even try to make a feeble attempt at an escape.

He was powerful. Alastor knew he didn't really need to lock the door because with his power, he could vaporize you before you even thought of making a dash for the door. He did it as an intimidation tactic because he knew the fear it instilled in his prey.

Now, walking towards you, he pointed his staff at your chest, and leaned in close to your face. Strange static and symbols fill the air as he and his antlers grow in size, towering over you.

"Now... who are you really? You get one chance to make a feeble excuse before I kill you and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear, for making a mockery of my dear (y/n) by taking the name of my beloved and masquerading around Hell- thinking you can show up here like this to try and mess with ME- tHe RaDiO DEMON."

You see dark shadows and tentacle-like masses appear, and you stumble backward until your back hits a wall, never breaking eye contact with him- your lip quivering in fear.

"I.. But- It... is me...hun... I missed you so much..." You whisper with a somber smile that's quickly warped into an ugly crying face. The unrelenting tears keep rolling down your face, and your left hand reaches up towards his even more demonically altered form that towers over you in a desperate attempt to get him to recognize you.

Before you can touch his face, one of his hands snatches your wrist and pulls it closer to himself to examine the sparkle that caught his eye as you started to reach out to him, roughly jostling you and lifting you up in the air by your wrist as a result.

You wince briefly at the pain in your wrist and shoulder joints as he examines your hand when you remember you were wearing your ring. You never took it off all these years.

You could hear his breath hitch just ever so slightly over the static as he gently put you down and let your feet touch the floor again.

Alastor realized that the ring on your left ring finger was the exact one he had gotten for you- the one he put on your ring finger right before he buried you right the night you were brutally assaulted and murdered back when he was alive.

He slowly morphed back into his "normal" form. (Normal for Hell, that is, this was an entirely new look for him from what you remembered when he was alive).

The shock dawning on him that it really was you was apparent as he took a few steps back, still holding your hand. He looked at you in disbelief, the look of pure shock was just like how you had looked at him initially in the lobby.

Then suddenly, he pulled you into a warm embrace, "My dearest... I am so sorry for hurting you. My darling... whatever are you doing here? Someone like you doesn't belong here!"

Now, holding your face in both of his hands, he wiped your tears with the most gentle expression on his face, a stark contrast from the nightmarish demonic one just a moment ago. and you could almost swear you could see the slightest traces of a misty look in his eyes as he held you.

His claw-like fingers slightly dug into your face, but not enough to hurt, as he examined your new appearance, his gaze turning from soft into a hardened expression once again. Almost snarling, he began to ask you again, "Tell me, darling, tell me the name of the gods forsaken angel bastard that cast you down from Heaven. I will find a way to make them pay. I'll make them ALL pay for this... NO ONE will ever harm you again..." The strange symbols and glitchy auras were threatening to come out again.

You sniffled, still trying to calm down your tears, which immediately made him halt in his tracks and turn his attention back to you at this moment.

You looked at the ground, and you knew you couldn't avoid this conversation forever, "Hun... I... Before we met... there was something I never told you-" Before you could finish, you felt your legs start to wobble underneath you- the adrenaline was starting to fade and you were starting to feel some of the pain from your previous injuries come back to you.

"Please, my love, take a seat first." He guided you to a set of a table and two chairs. Ever the gentleman, he pulled your chair out for you and helped made sure you were alright before he sat down across the table from you.

You put your hands on the table, a signal he immediately picked up on as a sign to envelop your hands in his. You looked at him in the eyes with a look of shame that scrunched up your face as you prepared to tell him the truth, "Alastor, hun... I never went to Heaven..."

You swore you heard another record scratch before a quiet hum of static filled the air again. Alastor chuckled, "Oh my dear, never lost your sense of humor, I see!"

A look of even deeper shame washes over your face as you break eye contact with him and stare at his hands that held your's on the table, "It's true. Alastor..." You sigh deeply, feeling an aching pain in your chest, not only from your injuries but also from the mental anguish you were dealing with as you shakily begin to explain everything about your past. Your shitty family and messed-up inlaws. Your narcissistic, unloving, and abusive ex-husband that you killed.

You painstakingly revealed every single minute detail. You told him everything.

-> Part 12

Tag List:

@mysticwitchcraftco @lil-bexie @lonely-burger @cherry-cola-100 @angelxx7 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @avitute @justhellacesome @mcrtrashfan @spookysisters

[wannabeschyulersister]

lovelorn and nobody knows

Sometimes it felt like you had the words “I’m in love with my boss” written on your forehead in big capital letters.

As much as you tried to hide it, you couldn’t help but marvel at him. He was truly amazing at his craft and seeing him so passionate made you want to do it as well.

There were times that he acted a little like a jerk but he’d redeemed himself recently. Thanks to Sydney.

And to Claire.

You were surprised when you learned he was seeing someone. He brought Claire around when the restaurant was practically falling apart. It was such a weird moment. You physically could feel the awkwardness in the air.

She seemed really nice but part of you still disliked her just because she could call Carmy hers.

You avoided being around them as much as possible. It hurt just looking at the way he smiled at her.

Every part of your being wished that were you.

You wished you were the one he confided in after a long day at the Bear. You wished that you were the one he walked around the city with hand in hand. You wished you were the one that had his heart.

You felt like a lovesick fool.

Instead of subjecting yourself to seeing the happy couple, you started to back out of any group activities unless it was absolutely necessary.

The group would often go and get drinks at a nearby bar at least once a week. You stopped going as soon as you heard Claire was a regular now. People would ask if you were going and you always had a lie ready to go.

As much as you loved working at The Bear, you knew that it would probably be best if you removed yourself from the situation. It hurt every time you had to be around Carmen and Claire. You didn’t want to constantly put yourself in heartache.

There was a popular Italian restaurant across town that needed a sous. You had a friend of a friend that recommended you. It was the fresh start that you needed.

When you got the job, it was bittersweet. You should’ve been happier than you were.

So, you drafted up a letter of resignation, took a deep breath, and walked into Carmen’s office after closing. He was busy looking at an invoice when you knocked softly on the doorframe to make yourself known.

He looked at you and smiled a little, “Hey, stranger. We missed you last night.”

“Yeah, sorry I missed it. I uh- have something to give you.” You wanted to get this part over with.

“Yeah? What’s that?” He reached over and grabbed the letter that you handed him. You hoped he didn’t notice the slight shakiness of your hand.

You didn’t answer him because you didn’t trust your voice in that moment. Carmen quickly read through your letter and you watched the expression change on his face.

“What the hell is this? You’re leavin’?” Carmen stood up from his seat and placed your letter down.

“I got a job opportunity that I couldn’t say no too. I’m sorry that this puts you in a situation where you are short staffed but I’m giving you a two weeks notice.” You explained to him.

“I don’t understand. You’re happy here, aren’t you? D-did something happen’ that I’m not aware of?” Carmen questioned.

Yeah, you fell in love with someone else.

You shook your head, “No, nothing happened. I just think I’m ready for a new challenge.”

Carmen didn’t look like he bought your lie. “(Y/n), you don’t think that I’ve noticed that you’re distant and-and you haven’t been coming out with all of us?”

Shit.

You’d hoped that maybe he was so busy with Claire that he hadn’t noticed you slipping away from the group at all.

“I’ve just been busy with other things.” You lied again.

“What’s going on?” He questioned.

“Nothing is going on, Carmen.”

He crossed his arms against his chest and it took everything in you not to stare and drool. Even when you tried to be strong, his biceps made you feel weak.

“I don’t believe you.” He stated.

“That’s fine. I just wanted to do the respectable thing and give you an adequate notice.”

Carmen stared at you and it made you feel like he could read your mind. Like he knew the exact reason on why you were leaving.

“I don’t want you to leave, (Y/n). I think you’re amazing and- and you have a bright future in this industry. I think it’s a mistake.”

Your chest ached at his kind words. “I’m just ready for something new.”

He sighed and looked away from you as someone knocked on the door. You turned and saw Claire holding a takeout bag, “Thought I’d surprise you with dinner.”

“Now isn’t a good time, Claire.” Carmen told her.

She looked disappointed, “Am I interrupting something?”

You quickly shook your head, “No, the conversation is over. Have a good night.”

“(Y/n), wait!” Carmen called out to you but you left his office without another look back.

Even thought it killed you to walk away from him, you had to put yourself first.

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely! could i pretty please get a blueberry muffin (part 2) with this fic:

https://www.tumblr.com/moonstruckme/727381518213857280/not-sure-if-youre-taking-requests-buttttt

thank you!! 🫶🫶

Thanks for requesting <3

part 1

cw: concussion, vomit mention, maybeee some d/s dynamics? in the soft sense though

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 812 words

You’ve forgotten your sandwich again. It stays suspended in the air, halfway between your mouth and your plate, while you stare at the coffee table like there’s a riddle in the scratches on the wood. 

“Sweetheart,” Sirius prompts you. You look over at him, lost, and he nods to your sandwich. “Are you full?” 

“Oh.” You shake your head. “No.” 

You take another bite and press your lips together hard as you chew. Sirius worries you might cry again. It’s been on and off tears since they nabbed you from Marlene’s and if your aim was to cut through Sirius’ anger about you going when you shouldn’t have, you’ve done it thoroughly. He feels like he’s being cleaved open with each one that rolls down your cheek. 

“Does the paracetamol feel like it’s working?” Remus asks you. 

You nod, swallowing. 

Remus repositions himself in the arm chair, propping his chin on his hand with a sigh. James stops midway between the bathroom and the sitting room, his hair wet from the shower. 

“Uh oh,” he says. “Are we talking?” 

“We’re talking,” Remus confirms. 

James makes a face but sits down. His knee immediately begins bouncing. 

As ready as Sirius was to tear into you earlier, he feels for you too. You look into your lap as you pull the sleeves of Remus’ jumper over your fingers, waiting for someone to start. 

“Dove,” Remus sounds exhausted with this already, “you knew why going to that party was a bad idea for you.” 

“Yeah,” you say quietly. 

“Then why did you?” 

You’re picking apart the knit of Remus’ sleeve. Sirius takes your hands in his, stopping you. Your eyes linger on them. “It’s Marlene’s birthday,” you say. “She’s my friend.” 

“She is your friend, angel,” James says gently. “Do you think she really would have cared if you’d missed her party if she knew how awful it was for you to be there?” 

You look like you’re chewing the inside of your lip. “It wasn’t awful.” 

“You got sick on the drive home,” Sirius reminds you. Okay, it’s possible he’s still a little angry. “Do you mean to tell me that was the result of you having a good time?” 

He immediately feels like shit when your expression twinges painfully. 

“I know you wanted to be there for Marlene,” Remus cuts in, “and to make her happy, but I don’t think it was worth making yourself miserable.” His voice is calm. Sirius doesn’t know how he does it; Remus was the most upset when they learned you’d gone to the party, but somehow he manages to keep his tone gentle, his expression kind as he talks you through the fallacies in your own reasoning. “You need to be more considerate of yourself, dove.” 

“You are a considerate person,” James says. “We love that about you, sweetheart. You’re kind, and you’re always thinking about everyone else, it’s just that sometimes you think about them too much. Marlene getting to see you at her party, versus you getting the rest you need to keep your concussion from getting worse…” He mimes a scale with his hands, making a face. “It’s not a very fair trade-off, yeah?” 

You nod but don’t speak. Your eyes are on your lap, and when Sirius dips his head to try and see you better, your lips are a harsh, tortured line. He squeezes your hands. 

“Yeah,” you say, your voice thin. 

Remus makes a soft sound, reaching for you. “Come here, babydove.” 

You join him in his chair and Sirius sees his boyfriend’s worry finally dissipating as he mushes brief, ardent kisses into your hair. James grins. 

“You’re alright,” Remus promises, voice muffled from how his lips are stuck to your head. He rubs up and down your back firmly while you hide your face in his chest. “We just want you to understand. So you don’t do it again.” 

“I know.” Your voice sounds fragmented, and it’s like ice picks through Sirius’ chest. “Sorry, it’s not you guys, I just—” You take a stilted breath. James moves to perch on the arm of Remus’ chair so he can squeeze your shoulder. “I just really don’t feel well.” 

“Oh, I know.” Remus rests his forehead on top of yours. “I’m sorry.” 

“Do you feel like you could be sick again, baby?” Sirius asks. When you shake your head, he stands. “Then let’s go to bed, yeah? Do you feel sufficiently lectured?” 

Your shoulders give a little shake, and though he already suspects it’s from laughter, James’ grin confirms it. 

“Do you want us to keep Remus away from you?” James teases, giving your shoulder another squeeze. “Would that make you feel better?” 

“Yes,” you say, while winding your arms around Remus’ waist. 

Remus doesn’t even feign offense. Only cups the back of your head and mushes another kiss into your hair.

[punkshort]

In Another Life | Part I

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader (time travel au)

Chapter Summary: Your brother and his friend surprise you after work with a handsome stranger crashing on your couch who claims to be from Ancient Rome.

Chapter Warnings: language, food consumption, major romcom vibes, mentions of prostitution, mentions of OC death, mentions of OC pregnancy, flirting, sexual tension

WC: 6.5K

A/N: this is a soft/romcom Marcus Acacius mini-series. Heavily inspired by Kate & Leopold. Also, let's just assume Ancient Romans spoke and could read English.

Series Masterlist

Time was of the essence. He had to move quick.

People would say he was a coward, no doubt his legacy would be tarnished, but if he escaped with his life, so be it.

He didn't bother with spare clothes, just an extra set of sandals and food thrown into a satchel before he crept down the dimly lit hallway, careful not to wake one of his many servants.

He loved his palace. It was a place of peace and comfort for him, but come morning, it would be ripped away and he would be thrown into the pit. A general, Rome's deadly sword and the Emperor's right hand man, would become a lowly gladiator. Trained to perform and kill for amusement.

And all because he refused to play the Emperor's sick game.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't help train another legion of young men half his age to fight and die for their vanity. For their greed. When the Emperor announced his new task, all he could think of was his unborn son. He would be of age now, had he lived. He could have been training him to die.

He padded down the stone steps softly, hardly making a sound, his combat training serving him well. He managed to get just outside the city limits while it was still dark, but he could see the glow from the sun breaking the horizon. He didn't have much time to find a place to hide. He was still too close, and no doubt warriors would be looking for him once Geta realized he had fled.

Gods above, if they found him... his fate would be far worse than one of a gladiator.

He stumbled across a small clearing, head twisted around to make sure he was not being followed when he tripped over something large and heavy.

"Oh, shit!" he heard a young male voice exclaim.

Quickly, he unsheathed his sword and aimed it toward the voice. Confusion painted his face when he saw the unusual clothing and utterly strange contraption behind him. Before he had a chance to say anything, leaves rustled and he swung is sword towards the noise. Another young man, similarly dressed to the other, emerged from the thicket.

"State your names. Quick."

"Uh..." the first man trailed off, hands raising slowly in the air. "D-Danny. Daniel. And this is... Victor."

"Dude! C'mon! You know I -"

"Silence!" the general roared as loud as he dared. "What is your business here?"

"Science! Just... experiments. And the like," Danny said hurriedly, glancing at Victor for help. He nodded.

"Yes. Experiments."

"And are you citizens of Rome?"

They paused and looked at one another again.

"We are citizens of... York," Danny said.

"It's new," Victor added.

The general looked back and forth between the two men before ultimately deciding he did not have the time to quarrel with them and they did not appear to be a threat. He dropped his sword to the side and glanced around.

"You did not see me," he said sternly, turning to leave.

"Wait!"

He glanced back over his shoulder, pausing.

"Are you running away?"

"Fleeing," Victor added quietly.

"Fleeing?" Daniel repeated.

"I do not see it fit for you to ask such questions of someone above your station," he snarled. The two men exchanged worried looks before continuing.

"We're leaving. If you're looking to jet, you can... y'know," Danny said, jutting a thumb over his shoulder towards the strange looking contraption.

"Can you get me to Greece?"

They grinned and nodded.

"Sure, dude."

The general glanced around once again, his brow furrowing when he saw the light stretching high into the sky, brightening the landscape and soon, giving his position away.

"Then I accept."

He sheathed his sword and stomped over to the men, startling them both with his intensity.

Victor turned to unlock a door, struggling a bit before it popped open and crawling inside. Danny stuck out a hand and gave him a nervous smile.

"What's your name?"

His eyes dropped down to the frail looking hand before him, then slowly, as if he couldn't decide, lifted his arm to grasp the inside of Daniel's forearm, giving him a vigorous shake.

"General Marcus Acacius."

"What the fuck?" you grumbled under your breath, rereading your brother's text.

Danny: I have a friend crashing on the couch, won't stay long

Shuffling your bag onto your other shoulder as you walked down the bustling city street, you tapped out a response.

You: It better not be Lizard.

Danny: It's not, but he's here 2

Danny: Just visiting

Fucking Lizard. You've known him since he was maybe ten years old and you were fairly certain he never matured past that age.

Given you had two extra people waiting for you in your already cramped apartment, you decided to grab a couple pizzas on the way home instead of the sushi you had been thinking about all day. Choosing to be a little selfish, you made one of them a white pizza, it being your favorite, and made your way home with the last bits of energy you had left.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you walked into that day.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you stepped into your apartment, door wide open behind you, two pizza boxes balancing in one hand as you stared blankly at the massive man standing with his back to you in the middle of the living room. He was dressed in some strange type of robe that fell just above his knee and his head was bent, looking at something on your coffee table.

When you cleared your throat, he swung around and defensively placed a hand at his waist. That was when you noticed the massive and very real looking sword at his side and your blood ran cold.

"D-Danny!" you yelled, your eyes glued to the stranger's hand. As if he finally sensed your fear, he dropped his arm and straightened up.

"Apologies-"

"Danny!" you yelled again, louder this time.

"Yeah? Hey! Sorry," Danny said, hurrying into the room with Lizard following on his heels.

"Oh, pizza? Sweet," Lizard said, reaching for the boxes and brushing past you as if an armed man wasn't standing in the middle of your home.

"Who the hell is this?!" you exclaimed, pointing towards the stranger while glaring at your brother.

"I told you already, he's a friend who's crashing on the couch for a few days," he replied, following Lizard into the kitchen, pizza the only concern at that point.

"My lady," the man began again, "please allow me to explain."

"My lady?" you repeated with a scowl. "I thought you guys stopped playing Dungeons and Dragons after high school."

"That's not -" Danny shook his head with a mouthful of pizza, "this is General Acacius."

"General?" you said quizzically, raising an eyebrow first at Danny, then towards the large man in your living room. "Be serious, Danny."

"He is!"

"I promise, what he says is true," the general chimed in, taking a step closer and stretching out his hand. You sighed and dropped your things onto your table.

"I'm too tired for this, it's been a long week."

The general frowned, hand still outstretched. "Daniel, please explain to your mistress she is not to challenge men above her lover's ranking."

You balked and gagged. "Lover?!"

"Mistress?" Danny said at the same time with a similar look of disgust. "Gross, dude, she's my sister."

Something in the general's face shifted when he learned you were siblings and he looked at you with renewed interest. "Ah, so you do not belong to another?"

You rolled your eyes and grabbed a plate, tossing a piece of white pizza on it before Danny and Lizard ate it all. "I don't have a husband, no. And that's a super sexist thing to say, I don't care if you're role playing or not."

Turning around to exit the kitchen, you were surprised to find the general somehow snuck up on you. Standing just a few feet away, you nearly ran into his strong, broad chest. He lifted a hand to tilt your chin up and whatever biting remark you had locked and loaded died on your tongue. You finally allowed yourself to get a good look at him. Dark, brooding eyes. Thick, brown curls dusted in grey, the color matching his beard. Sharp, angular nose and pouty lips.

Okay, so he was good looking. That didn't negate the weird dress and obvious mental illness.

"Your name?" he murmured softly, finger still hooked under your chin.

You cleared your throat and responded with your name, to which he nodded before dropping his hand. His gaze drifted to your plate and his nose wrinkled. "What is this you are eating?"

"Pizza?" you replied, squeezing up against your counter so you could get past him and get some space. "Help yourself."

"What is pizza?" you heard him ask Danny. You collapsed onto the couch with a groan and took a bite, fully not in the mood for whatever weird shit your brother had going on.

"It's Italian, you'll like it," Danny replied.

The three men trailed in from the kitchen to join you in the living room, your moment of peace and quiet over.

"This appears to be some bastardized version of flatbread," the general said, lifting the piece of pizza and giving it a tentative sniff. "What is this red? Some kind of pepper paste?"

"It's tomato sauce."

"Alright, enough with this bullshit please," you said, but the men ignored you.

You watched as he took a bite and almost instantly spit it out. "This is vile."

"Hey, that's authentic New York City pizza. Nothing vile about it," Lizard said. You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration.

"General - I'm sorry, I'm not calling you that. What's your real name?"

"That is my real name," he answered, cocking his head at you from the other end of the couch.

"General Marcus Acacius," Danny told you, cursing under his breath when he dropped some cheese on his shirt.

"Okay, Marcus," you began, but he shook his head.

"It is quite inappropriate for you to -"

"I don't give a shit, I'm not calling you General like I'm in the fucking army!"

The room fell quiet as you glared at Marcus, daring him to say another word. When it became evident he wasn't going to, you took a deep breath and continued.

"If you don't like the sauce, there's another pizza in the kitchen without it. Go try that," you said, voice a little softer now. He nodded and rose to go find the white pizza, leaving just the three of you for the first time.

"What the fuck, Danny?!" you whispered angrily. "Why the hell is there a guy in a dress pretending he's a fucking general in my home?"

"He is a general," Danny whispered back. "From Ancient Rome. I'll explain everything later," he said, straightening up when Marcus's footsteps approached.

"This is far better. Thank you, my lady."

"Oh, look at that. You already have something in common," Lizard said with a fake, syrupy voice. "You both love gross pizza."

"Thought you just said authentic New York City pizza can't be gross?" you sneered.

"Boom! She got you, Lizard," Danny laughed. Marcus looked around the room, confused.

"You said your name was Victor, did you not?"

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth with a napkin.

"Lizard's just his nickname. His real name is Victor," Danny explained.

"Yeah. No one calls me Victor. Just like no one calls you Marcus," Lizard explained.

"Only those dearest to me are allowed to use that name," he explained. "Such as a parent or a lover." His eyes flickered up to you quickly before focusing on his pizza once again.

"Does that make you his lover now?" Lizard teased. You kicked a foot out and jabbed him in the hip.

"Shut up," you grumbled.

"Do you not follow the proper steps to obtain a lover in your land?" he asked, genuine curiosity painting his face. "It is much more than simply calling another by a name. If a man were to deem a woman acceptable, he would make an arrangement with her father to wed." He scratched his chin in thought for a moment before adding, "unless, of course, she is a whore."

Lizard and Danny doubled over, howling with laughter while you stared daggers at them both.

"Did I say something to warrant such laughter?" Marcus asked you. You rolled your eyes.

"No, you did not."

"Rule number one, General," Danny said, gasping for air and wiping the tears from his eyes. "Don't call girls whores."

Marcus looked taken aback.

"I meant no offense. A whore is a common profession where I am from. There is no shame in it."

"Alright, can we stop talking about whores?" you asked, exasperated.

"Yeah, good idea. Let's find you some clothes to wear and we'll set up the couch so you can sleep. It folds out, don't worry," Danny told Marcus.

"My tunic should suffice," Marcus said, glancing down at his clothes.

"Uh, not in New York, man. Might stick out a little," Lizard joked, then stood to take his plate back in the kitchen for seconds.

"Depends on what side of town you're on," you mumbled under your breath.

"You can borrow something of mine," Danny said, standing up to go to his room. "You're a little bigger than me but I think I have something that'll work."

You eyed Marcus up over your plate, taking in the finer details of his appearance. "Where are you from? Really?" you asked. He turned to you with a sigh.

"Rome."

"Come on. You can drop the act, they're gone," you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

"I promise, I am telling you the truth," he replied, his gaze boring into you so intensely that it left you spellbound for a moment. "Your brother and his comrade found me on the outskirts of the city with some... contraption. They said they would take me to Greece, however it is clear this is not Greece."

"A contraption?" you repeated nervously. Oh, fuck.

He nodded. "I had never seen anything like it. I do not know what happened but once I entered, there were bright lights and a loud crack and... I must have lost consciousness. I woke in your lounge, utterly confused."

"Shit," you whispered, putting your plate down so you could angrily scrub your face with your hands. Danny, although very irritating and far too dependent on you for basic survival, was incredibly gifted. His intelligence stunned his teachers since he was three years old. He was doing long division at five and became fluent in Spanish at seven. By the time he entered high school, he had grown extremely interested in science, where he met Lizard. For years you had witnessed failed experiments and fireballs in your backyard, but you saw all their successes, as well. Since they were fourteen, Danny and Lizard talked about time travel and you always brushed them off, even when they began to build different devices throughout the years that claimed they were on the verge of a breakthrough, but of course, nothing ever came of it.

Until now.

No, that was crazy. There's no way they actually travelled back in time to Ancient Rome and returned with a Roman general... right?

"Why were you going to Greece?" you asked, tiredly dropping your hands in your lap.

He paused for a moment and you could see the hesitation in his eyes. He opened his mouth to reply right when Danny emerged from his bedroom with an armful of different clothing options.

"We'll go shopping tomorrow and find something else that will fit," he said, sheepishly handing over the clothes. Marcus slowly reached out and set them down on the cushion next to him.

"Thank you."

"Hey, I'm gonna take off," Lizard said from the kitchen doorway.

"Yeah, alright. Hey!" Danny said, swiveling around before he left. "You'll be back tomorrow, right? I need your help with the... thing."

You narrowed your eyes in his direction but remained silent. Once Marcus was asleep, you planned on having a very heated conversation with your brother, so you saved that little tidbit for later.

"Yeah, sure thing, man."

You stood to clean up the leftovers while you listened to Danny explain the concept of a pull-out couch to Marcus, then after that, a bathroom. The more time that passed, the more nervous you became. What if this was real? Was it even possible?

Quietly, you stepped out from the kitchen. Marcus was sitting on the edge of the pull out mattress, hands clasped together between his knees as he stared blankly at the floor. For the first time, you felt bad for him. If everything he said was true, he had to have been so confused and scared.

"Hey," you said softly. He lifted his head with a jolt of surprise. "Here's some water," you said, offering him a plastic bottle. He took it and frowned. "You twist the top to open it," you explained, ignoring how ridiculous it felt to tell a grown man how to open a bottle of water.

"Thank you," he replied, setting it down on the floor next to his bed.

"Do you need anything else?"

He shook his head and gave you a small smile. "No, my lady. Thank you for your hospitality."

"You're welcome," you said shyly, inching towards the little hallway that led to your bedroom. "We'll get you back home, Marcus. Don't worry."

He swallowed and smiled again. "Of course."

You smiled back and awkwardly clapped your hands together. "Well, if you need anything at all, just knock on one of our doors."

He nodded and with a sigh, began to peel back the sheets.

"Good night, my lady," he said once your back was turned. You swiveled back around and gave him a little wave, his deep brown eyes looking breathtaking in the evening light.

"Good night."

Flustered, you knocked into the doorframe on your way back to your room. Cursing under your breath and rubbing your shoulder, you slipped behind your door, finally putting an end to your humiliation.

The next morning you sipped your coffee in your kitchen as you replayed the argument you had with Danny the night before once you were sure Marcus was asleep.

"You need to get him back home. Tomorrow, Danny," you had said sternly.

"There might be a slight hiccup with that," he replied, bracing himself for your anger. "The machine needs repairs."

"What the fuck do you mean?!" you seethed as your paced around his cluttered room.

"Don't worry, sis! We can fix it! But we just need a couple days."

"How many days?" you asked with a glare.

Danny shrugged. "Two. Three."

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"A week, tops."

"A week?!"

"Shh! You'll wake him up!" he scolded, pointing angrily towards the door. "Lizard's coming over tomorrow, we'll get working on it right away. Something happened on impact when we returned, I didn't factor in modern day atmospheric pressure originally, but -"

"I don't give a shit what the reason is, you just need to fix it! You have no clue what the ramifications are by keeping him here! You could alter the course of history or something!"

"You watch too many movies," Danny chuckled, but quickly stopped and cleared his throat when he saw the look on your face. "I'll fix it. Promise."

The caffeine hadn't even had a chance to enter your bloodstream before Danny woke and dropped yet another problem onto your lap.

"Do you think you can take him shopping for some clothes today while me and Lizard work on this thing?" he asked as he poured cereal into a bowl.

"So now I'm running errands for you?" you snapped.

"C'mon, don't be like that," he replied as he put the carton of milk back in the fridge. The dynamic between you and your brother was wearing thin. It was always up to you to be the levelheaded one while he just allowed the wind to take him wherever it pleased, completely carefree while you harbored all the stress of basic responsibilities.

"Try to just enjoy the adventure for once," he added before messily scooping cereal into his mouth.

"Yeah, right," you grumbled under your breath before bringing your mug to your lips and taking another sip.

"So, is that a yes?"

"Fine," you said with a roll of your eyes. "If only so I can get away from this apartment and the inevitable chaos those repairs will bring. Just don't piss off my neighbors, okay?"

"Deal."

"Good day," you heard Marcus's deep voice rumble behind you. You jumped and swiveled around, gaze flickering down briefly to take in his borrowed clothes. Danny was right, he needed something that fit.

"Morning, General," Danny said with a grin. "Sleep well?"

"Surprisingly, yes. Even with all the noise outdoors... tell me, is it ever silent here?"

"No," you both said in unison. He nodded and looked down at his tunic, which was crumpled up in his fist.

"Do you have a servant I can give this to for washing?"

"That would be me," you said, stretching out your arm. Marcus hesitated for a moment.

"The lady of the house shouldn't have to perform such arduous tasks."

"I agree, yet here we are," you said, taking the tunic and tossing it over your shoulder. "I have to put in a load, anyway."

You changed your clothes and freshened up while listening to your brother scrape together some type of meal for Marcus that he found acceptable, then pressed the button on your tiny washing machine before heading back into the kitchen.

"Ready?"

Marcus glanced between you and Danny while chewing the last piece of a baguette.

"My sister's gonna take you shopping for some clothes," Danny explained. Marcus looked down at his attire and nodded.

"To the market, then?" he asked you, trailing after you as you tossed your bag over your shoulder and walked down the hallway towards the elevators.

"Something like that."

"I have plenty of denar," he said as you jabbed the call button.

"Denar?" you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather satchel filled with unfamiliar coins. You grinned and shook your head.

"Don't worry, I got it."

"Please, your hospitality has already been gracious enough," he said, following you into the elevator when it opened.

"If you can find someone who will take that, then be my guest," you said, tapping the lobby button. He was about to say something else when the doors closed and the car violently jolted, startling him.

"What is this?"

"It's an elevator. It lifts us up and down so we don't have to take the stairs."

His jaw hung open in disbelief until the doors slid open to reveal the lobby, then he broke out into a huge smile.

"Incredible."

But once he followed you out onto the busy New York City street, peppered with pedestrians, bicyclists, couriers, and a sea of vehicles, then his eyes practically bugged out of his head.

"I see now where all the noise comes from," he said to you, raising his voice a bit over the commotion as you walked. It was actually endearing to see him experience the city for the first time, something you took for granted every day leaves most people in awe. It was easy to forget that.

"Stick close," you said with a small smile when you saw him tip his head back to gaze up at the towering skyscrapers.

"What is your profession, then?" he asked as he walked by your side. You noticed with envy that others on the sidewalk veered out of his way, his massive shoulders and hulking frame no doubt the reason, instead of brushing past him, like what most do to you every day.

"I write for a fashion magazine."

"Oh, so you're a poet?" he asked, intrigued. You shook your head with a small laugh.

"No. I write about romance in the lifestyle section. I have a column every month on a different topic and I also pick three reader questions to answer and publish on the website every week."

It was clear he hardly understood what you were talking about, so you stopped at the nearest newsstand and grabbed your magazine. After paying, you ushered him over to a bench and sat down while you thumbed through it.

"Ah! Here we go," you said, proudly handing over the magazine and tapping on the corner of the page.

"'Are Soulmates Real'?" he read aloud the title before frowning at you. You nodded.

"Yeah, I talk about the idea of soulmates and how it's putting too much pressure on the modern woman to find this perfect partner when in reality, they don't exist."

"And how do you know this?" he asked, clearly amused.

"I don't, but I wrote from experience," you shrugged.

"So, since you have not found a soulmate, that means they do not exist?"

"No, it's an opinion, Marcus," you explained, "the magazine pays me for my opinion and outlook on things."

He sighed and closed the magazine with a shake of his head. "I am sorry you feel that way."

"Are you saying you believe in soulmates?" you asked.

"Well, I cannot say one way or another from experience, but I like to believe they exist, yes."

"Do you have a wife or family waiting for you back home?" The thought hadn't even occurred to you before now and you felt guilty, but he shook his head.

"My wife died many years ago during childbirth," he said sadly, and your heart plummeted. "She was young and I had just made rank, so her father arranged our marriage in order to ensure a safe and comfortable life for his only daughter." He looked down at the magazine in his hands but he wasn't really reading it. He was too lost in thought.

"She was with child very quickly after we wed. I had not even known her a year by the time she passed, but the time I had with her was enjoyable. I thought very much one day we would learn to love one another," he said, giving you a sad smile. "Was not meant to be."

"I'm so sorry," you said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "That's horrible... I don't even know what to say."

"It was a long time ago now. I never did remarry, although I had many offers. I became entirely focused on war, fighting to keep Rome and her citizens safe. It is what I was meant to do," he said, exhaling loudly and looking around. "Is this what you feel you are meant to do?" he asked, holding up the magazine. You laughed, grateful for the change of subject.

"No, probably not."

He grinned and nodded in agreement. "Yes, I imagine you are destined for much more, my lady."

"You think so?" you asked, scrunching your nose self-consciously.

He nodded, his gaze drifting over your face solemnly.

"I do."

If elevators impressed Marcus, then the escalators within Bloomingdale's practically floored him. He was so enraptured with them that you had to nudge his shoulder to remind him to step forward before he tripped when you got to the top.

"This is unlike anything I have ever laid my eyes on," he said to you in wonder, his head rolling around on his shoulders as he gazed around at all the lights and signage.

"Yeah, Bloomingdale's is special," you said dreamily. "Sometimes I get to tag along with girls from work to pick out fashion samples for the magazine. It's always so much fun."

You led him over to the men's section and turned to study his broad frame. "You're probably an extra large," you said as you began to sift through the racks, picking out various shirts in different styles and colors and draping them over your arm. He watched you without saying a word, just occasionally feeling the material between his fingertips whenever he saw something that caught his eye. When you got to the pants, you paused and pursed your lips. Glancing around, you spotted a measuring tape left on one of the registers. Grabbing his hand in yours, you dragged him over and shoved the shirts in his arms.

"Here. Hold these while I measure your waist and inseam."

He frowned for a moment but did as you asked, then jumped when you wrapped your arms around his middle with the tape.

"Sorry, it will only take a second," you murmured, ignoring how muscular and firm he felt under your hands. You took note of the number and flushed when it came time to measure his inseam. You chewed on your lip and glanced around, searching for a worker to maybe do it instead, but none were nearby.

"Okay, I'm going to have to measure the length of your leg," you began to explain. "I need to... put my hand close to..." you trailed off and gestured vaguely towards his lap and it finally seemed to click.

"Oh," he said in surprise, glancing down. He cleared his throat and nodded but you could see the pink creeping up his neck.

"I'll be fast," you assured him, "unless you prefer I find someone else."

"No, that is quite alright," he told you, standing tall and tucking his hands behind his back. Glancing around the store once more, you fell to your knees with the measuring tape. You tried not to think about it, tried not to look, but his clothes were too snug as it was and it was right fucking there.

Jesus Christ, you had to get it together. You were not lusting after a time traveling Roman general in the middle of Bloomingdale's. But it was impossible to ignore the impressive looking bulge right at eye level.

"Okay," you said quickly, standing up so fast your head spun. "Got it, let's go."

You hurriedly dropped the measuring tape back on the counter and swiveled around, looking for men's pants while trying to hide how flustered you were. You grabbed a few pairs of jeans and khakis before adding them to Marcus's pile, and avoiding his eye, you pointed over to the corner.

"You can try them on in there."

You waited outside patiently, listening to him struggle with a zipper. You had to draw the line: there was no way you would help him with that. But when he emerged from the dressing room for approval wearing a nice fitting pair of jeans and a white polo shirt, you kind of missed those tight clothes from before. You gave him a smile and thumbs up and he grinned before stepping back into the dressing room. When he turned around and you saw his ass in those jeans, you tilted your head to the side and raised your eyebrows.

Okay, the new clothes weren't so bad, either.

You picked him out two pairs of pants, an assortment of shirts, and paid before going to the intimates floor to grab some underwear, socks, and pajamas. On the way to the men's section, you passed by some mannequins wearing lacy lingerie and robes. Marcus frowned and tugged on your elbow.

"What is that for?"

You glanced in the direction he was pointing and inwardly groaned.

"It's undergarments women wear," you explained, hoping to leave it at that, but he still had questions.

"What is the purpose of the colors if they are under your clothes?"

You sighed and pinched your nose. "It's for sex, okay?" you whispered to him, looking around quickly to make sure nobody could overhear you.

"Sex?" he repeated at full volume. You shushed him, your cheeks flaring with heat, but he just gave you a bewildered look. "Why must I be quiet?"

"We don't talk about sex in public here," you told him, voice still lowered. "It's inappropriate."

"Why on earth not?" he asked, but he kept his voice soft for your benefit as he followed you into the men's section. "Nothing is more natural or beautiful than sex."

"Yeah, well, I don't have all the answers, Marcus."

"And why would a woman drape herself in such garb? A woman's body is a work of art. It is meant to be worshiped and admired just as it is. One would not hang ornaments off a statue of Venus, so why would a woman -"

"I don't know, Marcus!" you said, grabbing a pack of boxers and then a pack of white socks. "Men just like it, I guess."

He scoffed and shook his head but chose not to say anything further when he picked up the agitation in your voice.

You paid for the rest of the clothes and handed him the bag to carry as you led him to the exit. "Are you hungry What do you usually eat around this time of day?"

"It varies. I quite like fish with some bread and cheese."

You thought about it for a moment before your face lit up and you snapped your fingers.

"I have an idea."

Right around the corner from Bloomingdale's was one of your favorite bagel places. You found a table outside and made him sit then hurried inside to order two lox bagels. You almost grabbed Diet Coke but then thought that might kill him, so instead you got two waters and met him back outside in less than ten minutes.

"Try this," was all you said, handing him a warm bagel wrapped in paper and smelling absolutely divine.

Carefully, he peeled the paper away and sniffed the bagel before taking a hesitant bite. You waited, your own bagel untouched, for his reaction. His eyes snapped up to yours and a slow smile spread across his face.

"This is magnificent."

You giggled and tore into the paper covering your own lunch. "I had a feeling you would like it. Fish, bread and cheese."

He nodded and took a bigger bite. "Very wise. Tell me," he said, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "How has no one asked your father for your hand in marriage? You are bright, strong and beautiful. I am shocked you are not taken."

You decided to let the taken comment go that time and swallowed your food before replying. "Our parents are dead, first of all. But secondly, even if someone was interested in marrying me, they wouldn't need to ask my father. They just ask the woman directly now."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "My apologies. I was unaware of your parents' passing."

"That's okay," you shrugged. "It was a long time ago. Danny was a teenager and I had just graduated high school." You looked up at him, realizing he wouldn't understand what that meant. "I was nineteen. I had to grow up fast and help keep an eye on Danny," you settled on saying, figuring that would sum it up enough.

He nodded and looked down at his food, quietly thinking over what you said. "Has a man ever asked for your hand?" he asked before taking another bite of food.

You laughed. "Uh, no."

"Why is that humorous?"

You sighed and glanced around. "I haven't exactly dated many winners." He cocked an eyebrow at you and you added, "I seem to only attract assholes."

"Ah," he said in understanding. "I am attracted to you. Does this make me an... asshole?"

Your eyelids fluttered and you nearly choked on your water. "W-what?"

"I said, I am attracted -"

"No, I heard you, I just needed a second to process what you said," you told him, feeling your heart beat loudly in your chest. He tilted his head at you curiously.

"Does this surprise you?"

You laughed and fanned the back of your neck nervously. "Um, yes, a little. People don't usually go around just announcing when they're attracted to someone. They're a little more subtle than that."

"Oh. Have I made you uncomfortable? I do apologize," he said, his deep brown eyes softening as he gazed at you across the table.

"It's okay, I just didn't expect it," you chuckled, waving him off and focusing on your food with a stupid smile stretched across your face. He watched you eat for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching as he replayed what you just told him.

"You did not say if you are attracted to me," he said, drawing your attention back up to him. "Is this because you are not, or are you being... subtle?"

You grinned and shook your head. "You have a weird way of flirting."

He smiled back, the creases next to his eyes deepening. "I told you. Where I am from, sex is not something to be ashamed of. It is enjoyable and discussed often. Unless one has devoted themselves to a life of celibacy."

Definitely not, you thought. He let the subject drop as he finished the rest of his lunch and sat back in his chair, looking around at the cars inching by and beeping their horns angrily. You remained quiet for a few minutes, debating on what to say, if you should say anything at all until you finally decided fuck it.

"I'm attracted to you, too."

His head swiveled in your direction and he grinned. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

You giggled in disbelief before you said, "you're welcome."

Something had shifted between you on the walk back to your apartment. It felt so different from just a few hours ago, and it wasn't just the shocking confession over lunch. You had learned a little more about each other, let the other in and shared personal details about your lives, trusting one another with your vulnerability. And for once, you didn't feel raw and exposed. Strangely, it felt like you could trust him. Maybe it was because you knew he would be gone in a few days and it didn't feel like you had much to lose.

However, when you got off the elevator and walked toward your apartment, the sounds of power tools and shouting coming from the other side of the door, Marcus stopped you. He plucked your hand from your side and brought your knuckles to his lips, brushing over them gently while maintaining eye contact, the entire moment making your hands tremble and your heart to flutter excitedly in your chest.

"Thank you for today, my lady. I had a lovely time with you."

You smiled shyly at him and looked down at the ground.

"Me, too," you replied softly.

And it was then you realized you very much might have something to lose after all.

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[dollgxtz]

His Watchful Eye Pt. 4

Word Count: 11.9k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, noncon, dubcon, drugging, kidnapping, obedience training, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, stalking, pet names like kitten, sweetie, pretty, ownership, manipulation, attempted rape, xavier appears

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti, @m0onlustre, @ve1vet-cake @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglamela, @connorsui @iluvmewwwww75 , @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer @mysssticc @babygirl-panda19 @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1

AN: Bit of a late upload for you night owls and a nice surprise for my early risers! Someone tell me to stop making the chapters longer, thank you LOL. This chapter was a lot of fun to write and I hope you guys enjoy! This is on AO3 as usual! :D

"So… uh, what’s your dog’s name?" you asked, trying to keep up the conversation and maybe get him to reveal more. Your voice was casual, but inside, your nerves were on high alert. "Dog? What dog?" he said absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to the window. His response was automatic, dismissive, as if he hadn’t even registered the question. "You...said that noise earlier was your dog? Right?"

Read Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.5

Xavier drummed his fingers rhythmically on the glass counter, each tap growing more impatient as the seconds stretched on. His eyes darted around the cluttered store, scanning the shelves filled with everything from worn-out sneakers to high-end dress shoes. The store clerk had disappeared into the back room several minutes ago, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Xavier wasn't entirely sure what he was hoping to find here.

He had strolled in with nothing more than a photo of a shoe print—a faint clue at best—but it felt more productive than sitting idly by, doing nothing while the answers to your disappearance slipped further out of reach. At least this was action, however uncertain.

Was this even a tangible way to find you? Was he grasping at straws, wasting precious time on a hopeless lead?

And the most haunting question of all—were you even still alive?

Xavier squeezed his eyes shut, as if closing them tightly enough could block out the flood of dark thoughts threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn’t afford to let his mind go there, not now. Pushing the fear and uncertainty away, he tried to focus on the faint glimmer of hope that had brought him here in the first place. Anything was better than surrendering to despair.

"This is all I could find on it. It's certainly a unique pair," the shop clerk continued, offering a slight smile. "I'm not as technologically advanced as most shops around here, so sorry to disappoint. But, may I ask—why come to my little shop instead of one of those fancy places downtown?"

Xavier took the pamphlet, glancing over the information quickly before shifting his gaze back to the clerk. "Well," he began, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, "I heard you were the kind of guy who could identify a pair of shoes just by its print."

The clerk chuckled softly, his weathered face creasing with the effort. "You've been a great help, actually," Xavier added, sliding the pamphlet into his jacket pocket with a nod of appreciation.

The clerk gave an approving nod, the lines of his face softening in quiet satisfaction before he turned his back again, settling into the familiar rhythm of his work. Xavier headed toward the door, the faint creak of floorboards beneath his boots echoing through the small, dimly lit shop. His hand hovered over the door handle, but just as his fingers brushed the cool metal, a nagging thought rooted him in place. He paused, heart pounding slightly as the question formed in his mind.

He turned back, the weight of uncertainty pulling at his voice. "Say... you wouldn’t happen to know where this shoe was originally made, would you?"

The clerk stopped, mid-motion, his hands faltering over a pile of worn soles. The question seemed to hang in the air, drawing out a moment of silence as the man stared down, his brow furrowing. It was clear he hadn’t thought about it in some time. Xavier felt a flicker of hope, unsure if it would lead him anywhere, but desperately clinging to the possibility.

The clerk finally turned, his face thoughtful, his voice quieter now. "Yeah..." he said slowly, as if pulling the memory from a fog. "Last I saw of that shoe, it came from a company based in the... er, N1—no, wait..." His brow furrowed deeper as he worked to piece it together. "N109 Zone. Yeah, that’s the one."

His words hung in the air, carrying a weight Xavier couldn’t ignore. The clerk’s tone wasn’t just casual recollection—it was tinged with something more, like the memory of that particular shoe stirred something deeper. Xavier felt the knot of tension in his chest tighten.

Xavier felt his breath catch in his throat. N109 Zone. The name alone sent a chill down his spine. He had heard plenty about that place—mostly rumors, but enough to know that it was a dangerous, lawless sector. Few dared to go there unless they had no other choice, and even fewer came back with stories worth telling. It was a no-man’s-land, a forgotten corner of land where control was lost long ago. The kind of place where people disappeared without a trace.

His mind raced, piecing it together. If the shoe had come from there... Did that mean you were there too? His stomach churned at the thought. The faint hope he had clung to started to blur with the creeping dread of what fate could have fallen upon you in the N109 Zone.

"You’re sure about that?" he asked, his voice betraying the slight anxiety creeping in around the edges. The clerk glanced up from his work, noticing the shift in Xavier’s tone.

"Yeah," the clerk said, more firmly this time. "I’m sure. That shoe—rare brand—hard to forget. The company folded years ago, but they used to operate out of the N109 Zone. Only place I’ve ever seen them sold."

Xavier swallowed hard, the words sinking deep. If the shoe came from N109, it could be a clue—a dangerous one, but still the only lead he had. He felt the urgency building inside him, a gnawing sense that time was running out, but also the undeniable question of what he might find if he went there.

Could you really be in a place like that? His mind struggled to fill in the gaps, but there were too many unknowns. Were you okay?

"I...appreciate your help," Xavier muttered, his voice thick with tension. He clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to steady his breathing.

"You're not actually thinking of going there, are you?" the store clerk asked, his voice edged with disbelief as he raised an eyebrow. He leaned slightly forward over the counter, studying Xavier with a mixture of concern and amusement. "No offense, but a pretty fella like you doesn’t exactly look like the type who could survive in a place like that. Not really worth the hassle for a pair of shoes don't you think?"

Xavier paused, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn’t turn around immediately, letting the weight of the clerk’s words linger for a moment. Finally, he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression calm, almost casual. "I'll be fine," he said, his voice steady, though the tension in his body remained. "I've dealt with much worse."

The clerk blinked, surprised by Xavier's calm demeanor, but said nothing more.

Xavier turned to face the door once again, his hand resting on the handle as he prepared to step out into the cold streets. "Thanks again," he added, his tone carrying a finality that didn’t invite more questions.

Without waiting for a response, he pushed open the door and walked out, leaving the shop behind. His heart pounded a little harder now, not just from the looming threat of the N109 Zone, but from the resolve building inside him. There was no turning back now.

He had a tangible clue—a real, solid lead to your whereabouts. For the first time in weeks, the haze of uncertainty lifted ever so slightly. But now that he knew you were possibly in one of the most dangerous areas anyone could imagine, time was no longer on his side. Every second that ticked by felt heavier, pulling him deeper into the urgency of the situation. The N109 Zone wasn’t just dangerous; it was a place where people vanished, a place where hope died. He had no time to waste, but rushing in blindly would be suicide. He needed a plan.

Stepping into the cold evening air, Xavier pulled the pamphlet from his jacket pocket, its crinkled edges soft from being handled. His eyes scanned over the contents carefully. Make and model—simple enough, not much help now. A detailed diagram of the shoe—useful for recognition, maybe, but not a lifeline. Then his eyes caught something else—a faint address printed near the top. It was partially worn, barely legible, but there.

His heart skipped a beat. An address? Could this be where the shoe was made? Or where it was sold? Either way, it was another piece of the puzzle, and right now, it was the closest thing to a breadcrumb trail he had. He squinted at the faded letters, trying to make out every detail.

If this address was in the N109 Zone, it could lead him right into the heart of the danger. But it could also lead him to you.

His mind raced. First, he needed to confirm the location. Then he needed a plan—something better than just walking straight into the N109 Zone and hoping for the best.

Pulling out his hunter’s watch, Xavier quickly scanned the address printed on the pamphlet. The small device whirred to life, its holographic screen flickering as it worked to process the faint, worn-out text. A soft ding echoed in the quiet street as it started searching for the location. Xavier watched the screen intently, his heart pounding with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

The map on the watch blinked, the dot moving erratically across an unmarked, shadowy area. It drifted back and forth, as though even the advanced technology in his hands was confused, struggling to pin down an exact location. Xavier frowned, watching the dot jitter across the screen. His stomach tightened with frustration. Was the address too old? Was it leading him nowhere?

Just when he thought the device might give up entirely, the dot paused. The holographic screen flickered once more, and with a soft chime, it glowed green in confirmation. The hunter's watch had finally locked on to a spot. Xavier stared at it, a sinking feeling settling in his gut. The place it had marked was deep within N109 Zone, tucked away in the heart of the most dangerous, uncharted part of the city.

He exhaled slowly, his mind running through a million possibilities. The watch’s confirmation meant something tangible, something real—but what waited for him there? He couldn’t shake the thought that this could be a trap, a place where the trail might lead to nothing, or worse, to more danger than he could anticipate. But it was also the only clue he had to your whereabouts.

Xavier closed his hand around the watch, feeling its faint warmth through his fingers. He knew what he had to do, but the enormity of it settled on his shoulders. This wasn’t just a simple lead anymore—it was a beacon, calling him into the depths of the N109 Zone. And whatever waited for him there, he would face it.

Because finding you was all that mattered.

As Xavier made his way through the still, empty streets back to his apartment, the first hints of dawn began to creep over the horizon, casting a faint, orange glow across the sky. His mind was already racing, formulating a plan. Gear, weapons,—he’d need everything ready before venturing into the N109 Zone.

But just as he turned the corner, his phone rang, the sharp sound cutting through the early morning quiet. Xavier stopped, his brow furrowing as he fished the phone out of his pocket. It was a jarring sound—no one should be calling him at this early hour.

He glanced at the screen, squinting in confusion. The number was unknown, unfamiliar. His immediate thought was Captain Jenna—she was the only one who’d be up this early, possibly reaching out with new intel—but this wasn’t her number.

He hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Unknown number. His instincts screamed caution. In his line of work, random calls at odd hours rarely led to anything good. The number could belong to anyone—a lead, a warning, or worse, a trap.

But then again, it could be something important—something connected to you. He couldn't ignore the possibility.

Should he answer? The phone rang again, and with each buzz, the knot of uncertainty in his stomach tightened. Whoever it was, they wanted to reach him badly enough to call at this ungodly hour.

With a deep breath, Xavier made a decision and swiped to answer the call. "Hello?" His voice was guarded, careful.

For a moment, all Xavier could hear was silence, a thick void that made his pulse quicken. Then, suddenly, the sound of crackling static filled his ears, distorting the line. He frowned, his grip tightening on the phone. The static grew louder, chaotic, until it was abruptly interrupted by a voice—scared, desperate, and unmistakably familiar.

"Xavier? Is that you??"

His heart nearly stopped.

You kept running until your legs gave out, your breath ragged and chest burning, but you couldn’t stop. Not yet. An hour ago, you had been trapped, bound in your captor's suffocating bedroom, that thick invisible leash tightening around your neck with each passing day, stealing your hope, your strength. Every second felt like eternity in that room, but somehow, with some luck of a power outage of all things, you’d broken out of your cage. You’d ran—bolted into the cold night without looking back.

And now, you were almost free.

But “freedom” wasn’t what you had imagined. The streets stretched out before you, bleak and lifeless. It felt wrong. There was no joy in the air, no welcoming breeze to assure you of safety—only the gnawing sense that you had escaped one cage just to enter another. You recalled something Sylus, your captor, had mentioned in passing.

"Its always 'night' here", he'd said with a small smile, and now you truly realized he hadn’t been lying.

Darkness swallowed the entire area, a thick, unnatural veil over everything. Even though your eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, the eerie, half-flickering streetlights cast only dim pools of sickly yellow across the cracked pavement. The shadows loomed, stretching too far, hiding too much. You shivered, not just from the cold but from the haunting silence that wrapped around you.

The air itself felt thick, as if it was suffocating under the weight of secrets too dark, too dangerous to be spoken aloud. Each alley you passed felt like it was watching you, whispering silent threats from the shadows. Exhaustion clung to your limbs, and you had finally stopped, collapsing onto a broken bench under one of the few flickering streetlights that still worked. The cold metal dug into your skin, but you barely noticed. You were too busy trying to catch your breath, to steady your thoughts.

Where do you go now? You scanned your surroundings again, looking for anything that could offer direction, but the streets were as desolate as before. The same cracked pavement, the same looming shadows. No signs. No people. Just an eerie quiet.

A fleeting thought entered your mind—maybe there’s a train station nearby? The idea seemed almost laughable. Would it even take you to Linkon? And would you even make it to a station without getting caught?

You shook your head, mentally cursing yourself for the thought. Hitchhiking was another idea that crossed your mind—no way, you scolded yourself, brushing off the notion as quickly as it came. You probably couldn't trust anyone here. Not in a place like this. Here, trusting a stranger was as reckless as running blind into the dark.

But what other choice did you have? You couldn’t stay still for long; resting too much would make you an easy target. With a deep, shuddering breath, you forced yourself to stand again. Your legs trembled beneath you, but you kept moving, hoping—praying—you’d find someone who wasn’t out to harm you. Something that could help guide you out of this nightmare. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of fear pressing harder on your chest.

As your bare feet dragged across the cracked concrete, the desperation gnawed at you more fiercely. You were lost—physically and mentally. Each street looked the same, the darkness playing tricks on your eyes. Panic swelled in your throat. How long could you keep going like this? How much longer could you walk before your legs gave out? Before someone found you?

Your breaths came quicker, shallow with fear. You needed a way out, but the deeper you walked into the N109 Zone, the more it felt like the place was swallowing you whole. You were running out of time. Running out of hope.

And then finally, as if the cruel universe had decided to grant you another fleeting moment of mercy, you saw it—a faint glow of lights in the distance. Squinting, you could just make out a corner store, its soft, artificial light spilling onto the cracked sidewalk. A few people were loitering outside, giving the place a rare sense of life. A tired-looking woman clutched her child's hand tightly, and a man stood by, lazily smoking a cigar, his eyes scanning the street in disinterest. A couple of others hovered nearby, exchanging quiet words under the dim streetlight.

You couldn't believe your eyes. A store? Here? In the N109 Zone? It seemed almost surreal, like it had been plucked from another world and dropped into this forgotten wasteland. But it made sense in a grim way. Even in a place like this, people have to eat. Make a living.

With a rush of desperate energy, you hurried toward the store, your bare feet slapping against the cold pavement. The people outside cast looks in your direction, but don't say anything. You stopped just short of the entrance, glancing down at yourself for the first time. You must look insane. A nightgown hung loosely around your body, dirty and torn at the edges. No shoes. No socks. Your hair was tangled and wild from the running. The sight of yourself made you wince in embarrassment, but there was no time to care about that now.

Pushing the door open, you were greeted by a dimly lit but surprisingly ordinary scene. The inside of the corner store looked like any other—aisles of candy, snacks, cheap knick knacks and toys stacked high. It was a stark contrast to the dangerous, shadowy streets just outside. But one sight caught your attention above all: the food.

Your stomach growled loudly, twisting with hunger. You hadn’t eaten since the chicken dinner Sylus had provided before your “outburst.” You hadn't been able to finish it, and now the exhaustion from running had made the hunger almost unbearable. Your mouth watered at the thought of eating, but there was one major problem—you had no gold.

Your heart sank as you stared at the rows of candy bars and instant noodles. How were you going to get anything?

Anxiously, you shuffled toward the front counter, your nerves jangling with every step. When you reached it, you hesitated for a moment, staring at the small bell. With trembling fingers, you tapped it.

A disheveled-looking man, his hair sticking out in uneven tufts, glanced up from behind the counter. He had been glued to his phone, and the interruption clearly annoyed him. His eyes landed on you, and for a brief second, he just stared, taking in your disarrayed appearance before rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Can I...help you?" he asked, dragging out the words as if the very act of speaking was a burden.

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but your mind raced with too many conflicting emotions—fear, embarrassment, hunger. What could you even say?

"I've been kidnapped," you blurt out, your voice shaky and desperate. You opened your mouth to explain further, to tell him everything—how you had escaped, how you were on the run, how you needed help—but before you could get another word out, the man snorted.

"Yeah, I've heard that one before," he said dismissively, leaning back on his chair with an exaggerated sigh. "Who hasn't been kidnapped at least once around here?"

His casual tone hit you like a slap. The raw urgency in your voice was met with nothing but apathy. Your heart sank. He wasn’t going to take you seriously. You were just another story in a place like this, another desperate face with nowhere to go. You stood there, frozen, trying to comprehend how someone could be so indifferent to your situation.

You swallowed hard, fighting back the frustration welling up inside you. "Please, I'm serious. I just need—"

"Look," the man interrupted, cutting you off again, his eyes barely lifting from his phone. "You want something, buy it. Otherwise, move along. I’m not here for charity cases."

You glanced at the counter, the rows of candy, snacks, and drinks just inches away, knowing you had nothing to pay with. Desperation clawed at your insides. You were exhausted, starving, and running out of options.

"I don't have any gold... do you ha-have a phone?" you asked again, your voice trembling as you blinked back the hot tears threatening to spill. How could someone be so indifferent to the obvious suffering staring him in the face?

"Broken," he said flatly, still not bothering to look up from his phone. His disinterest was like a physical blow. "And… gold? What are you, some Linkcunt citizen?"

The venom in his words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you were too stunned to respond. Linkcunt citizen? The insult was harsh, dripping with disdain, and it sent a sudden wave of anger rushing through you.

"Yes, I’m from Linkon," you correct, the frustration and fear bubbling over into your voice. "What’s with the attitude? What did I do to you? I'm asking for help!"

He finally looked up, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t friendly. It was mocking.

"What did you do? Nothing. That’s the problem. Linkon folk come down here thinking they’re better than everyone, tossing around their fancy gold and expecting the world to hand them everything." He shook his head, his expression a mix of amusement and contempt.

"You want help? Then you’d better figure out how things work around here real fast, princess. No one's gonna hand you anything for free."

You felt your fists clench at his words, the anger mixing with a deeper sense of helplessness. You hadn’t asked to be here. You hadn’t asked for any of this. And yet, standing in this grimy corner store in the depths of the N109 Zone, it was clear that no one cared about your suffering. Not here. You weren’t in Linkon anymore.

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to calm down, swallowing the anger rising in your throat. Getting into a fight with this clerk wouldn’t help you, not now. But the bitterness of his words lingered, and you realized just how alone you truly were in this place.

Silently, you turned your back to the greasy man behind the counter, his words still echoing in your mind as you began to walk up and down the aisles. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of hunger, thirst, and sheer exhaustion pulling at you. Your stomach growled, gnawing at your insides, reminding you just how long it had been since you'd eaten.

But something else gnawed at you too—something that made your skin crawl with discomfort. You hadn't changed your pad for hours, and now the sticky, damp feeling clung uncomfortably between your legs. The sudden realization hit you, a wave of disgust washing over you as you winced.

Swallowing hard, you glanced over toward the feminine hygiene aisle. Rows of necessities lined the shelves—pads, tampons, basic supplies—just out of reach. You stared at them, your stomach twisting in knots. It wasn't just food you needed now. You couldn’t go on like this.

But you had no credit cards. No way to purchase anything. Nothing.

Your eyes flicked back toward the front of the store, where the disinterested clerk sat, still engrossed in his phone. He wasn’t paying attention to you. He didn’t care. Nobody here did.

You felt a knot tighten in your throat as the harsh reality of the situation settled in. You had to steal. There was no other choice. You hated the thought of it—hated how low it made you feel—but survival wasn’t a matter of pride. Not here. Not now.

Your fingers trembled as you looked back at the shelves. You knew what you had to do.

The clerk still wasn’t paying attention, his face lit by the glow of his phone. His indifference might be your only saving grace. You could do this—quickly, quietly, and then you’d be gone.

With shaky hands you reach for a plastic bag that had fallen on the ground. The bag felt like a shield, something to hide the weight of what you were about to do. You didn’t think twice as you moved toward the feminine hygiene aisle, knowing you couldn’t walk any further in your current state. You reached for a pack of pads, your movements slow and deliberate. Your heart pounded in your chest, loud enough that it felt like the entire store could hear it.

Next, you hurried down the snack aisle, grabbing a few protein bars, a small bag of chips, and a bottle of water, all of which disappeared into the bag as your pulse raced in your ears.

You glanced toward the counter, your body tense with anxiety. The clerk still hadn’t looked up, completely absorbed in his phone. The faint, unmistakable sound of pornography drifted from his speakers, making your stomach churn in disgust. You twisted your face, feeling a wave of revulsion wash over you, but you couldn’t afford to stop now.

He was utterly oblivious to your frantic movements, his attention locked on the screen, but that didn't ease the gnawing sensation in your gut. Every step felt like you were tiptoeing across a minefield, a ticking clock counting down to disaster. Even though he wasn’t watching, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—or something—was.

With the bag now heavy in your hands, you made your way toward the exit, each step carefully measured, your breath shallow as you fought to keep calm. The distance between you and the door seemed endless, as if every inch stretched into miles. But finally, your trembling hand closed around the cold metal of the handle.

Your heart raced as you crossed the threshold, bracing yourself for the inevitable—a shrill, deafening alarm that would shatter the silence and expose your crime to the world. You waited for it, your breath caught in your throat, ready to bolt at the first sound.

But nothing came.

No alarm. No piercing siren. The only thing you could hear was the frantic beating of your own heart as the door swung shut behind you with a quiet click.

For a moment, you stood there, frozen in place, not daring to move. The cool night air brushed against your skin, grounding you in the eerie quiet. The world outside the store felt impossibly still. It took a few seconds for your brain to register that you had made it out—unseen, unheard.

You swallowed hard, keeping your head down as you hurried past the few patrons lingering near the store. Their eyes followed your every step, and you could feel their gazes crawling over you, judging, curious. Did they happen to care, or did you just look that insane?

The woman with the child pulled her daughter closer as you passed, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. The man smoking his cigar gave you a long, leering stare, as if trying to figure out what your story was. The others whispered quietly among themselves, but you couldn’t make out the words, nor did you want to. You kept walking, willing yourself to be invisible, but the tension in the air made your skin prickle.

Once you were a safe distance away from the store, you ducked down an empty alley, the shadows wrapping around you like a cloak. The world outside was still bleak, the flickering streetlights casting only the faintest glow, but here in the quiet, you finally had a moment to breathe.

You found a relatively clean spot, tucked behind an old dumpster, and set the bag down beside you. Your hands shook as you reached into the bag for the pack of pads. The discomfort and itch between your legs had grown unbearable, and the relief of changing, even in such a grim place, was something you couldn't put off any longer.

Quickly, you adjusted yourself, wincing at the feeling of the old pad peeling away. You worked fast, knowing you couldn’t linger here for long. Once you were done, you felt a small sense of relief—at least one problem had been solved.

Next, you pulled out the snacks. The hunger was still clawing at you, and the sight of the protein bars and chips made your stomach ache even more. Tearing into a protein bar, you ate quickly, barely tasting the food as you devoured it, desperate to fuel your exhausted body. The bottle of water came next, and you drank it down in large, gulping swallows.

For the first time since you had escaped, you felt a flicker of calm. It wasn’t much, and it wouldn’t last, but here in this dark corner, with food in your stomach and a small bit of comfort, you allowed yourself a brief moment to breathe.

But the quiet didn’t last. You knew you couldn’t stay hidden forever. You had to get moving at some point or Sylus would find you. This place was unforgiving, and survival demanded more than just temporary refuge.

Tucking the remaining items back into the bag, you sigh in satisfaction, glancing around to make sure no one had followed you. The streets were still empty. For now, you were alone. You had survived one more step in this nightmare, but you knew it wasn’t over yet.

Some time passes and you can slowly feel yourself falling asleep against the dumpster.

As you crouched in the dim alley, trying to fight off exhaustion and gather your thoughts, the sound of footsteps broke the silence. Slow, steady, and casual, accompanied by a faint, off-key whistling. You stiffened, instinctively pulling the bag closer to your chest.

The footsteps stopped just a few feet away, and then came the voice—low, cautious, but curious.

"Hey, you okay?"

You glanced up warily, your eyes landing on the figure standing at the mouth of the alley. He was tall, maybe in his mid-thirties, with shaggy, unkempt brown hair that fell just above his eyes. His clothes were worn—faded jeans and a jacket that had seen better days—but he didn’t look like the rough types you usually imagined when you thought of the N109 Zone. His posture was relaxed, hands tucked casually into his pockets, but his sharp, dark eyes were fixed on you, a flicker of concern—or maybe something else—dancing behind them.

His face was hard to read. He had a slight stubble covering his jaw, giving him a rugged, almost tired appearance. His lips quirked in what might’ve been a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at you—like he was curious, but also sizing you up. Not in an aggressive way, but in a way that made you wonder why he’d stopped to talk to you at all.

"Are you... lost?" he asked, stepping forward slowly, the whistling tune dying in the air. His voice was softer now, almost as if he was trying to be gentle, but his presence made the space around you feel even smaller.

"What happened to your arm?"

You swallowed hard, trying your best to keep your gaze on him. You had honestly completely forgotten about the scar on you arm. As much as you wanted to explain, every instinct screamed to stay wary. This wasn’t a place where strangers helped out of kindness, and you knew better than to trust easily. But as exhausted and desperate as you were, you weren’t sure if you could afford to push away help, even from someone who might have their own agenda.

"I—I need help," you stammered, your voice shaky, barely managing to push the words past your tightening throat. Your body trembled, a mix of nerves and exhaustion leaving you on edge. You hugged the bag tighter to your chest, every muscle in your body tense. "But... don't come any closer just yet."

The man's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression shifting, though he made no move forward. He stayed where he was, his hands still in his pockets, the dim streetlight casting long shadows on his face. For a moment, there was silence, the air thick with tension as he watched you.

"Okay," he said finally, his voice calm and even, though the curiosity in his eyes never wavered. He tilted his head, taking in your ragged appearance with a deeper interest. "No problem. I’m not here to scare you. Just trying to figure out what you're doing out here all alone."

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. You needed help, but trust was a dangerous thing in a place like this. Still, you were running out of options. Your mind raced as you tried to decide what to say next.

You hesitated, your mind racing as you weighed the risks. Could you trust him? Telling the truth might make you vulnerable, but lying wouldn’t get you far either. You had to say something—anything—to explain why you were here.

"I was kidnapped," you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. Your voice wavered, a tremor of fear running through you as you spoke. "I escaped… I don’t know where I am. I just need to get somewhere safe and rest so I can get home later."

The man’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He studied you, eyes narrowing as if trying to assess whether or not you were telling the truth. His silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, making your heart pound faster in your chest.

"You’re serious?" he finally asked, his tone more subdued now, almost disbelieving but not dismissive. He took a small step back, showing that he wasn’t going to invade your space. "You really got away from someone?"

You nodded, the tension in your body still coiled tight, waiting for his reaction. You couldn't tell if he believed you, but you hoped—desperately—that he wouldn’t press too hard or turn you away.

The man stared at you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning your face, as if trying to read the truth in your expression. Finally, he let out a slow breath, his posture softening just slightly.

"Alright," he said, his voice low but firm. "If you're telling the truth... then you’ve got bigger problems than just being lost."

He glanced around, checking the street behind him as if making sure no one else was nearby, then he looked back at you, his face more serious now. "You can’t stay out here. This place— the N109 Zone—it’s not somewhere you want to be wandering around alone, especially if someone’s looking for you."

You felt a shiver run down your spine. You already knew the N109 Zone was dangerous, but hearing it from him made it feel even more real.

"Look," he continued, his voice softening. "I’m not gonna hurt you. If you need help, I can take you somewhere safer. But you’ve gotta trust me, and you’ve gotta move quick. If they’re after you, it’s only a matter of time before they find you out here."

He waited, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to see if you’d accept his offer—or run.

You hesitated for a long moment, scanning the man’s face for any sign of deceit. His expression was calm, almost unnervingly so, but something about his demeanor made you feel that, for now, you didn’t have much of a choice. If he meant harm, he could’ve acted already. Swallowing hard, you nodded.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I’ll come with you.”

He nodded in return, offering nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgment before turning and motioning for you to follow. "My place isn’t far. You can rest there, maybe clean up a bit. It’ll give you a few hours before you have to figure out what’s next."

You fell in step behind him, your bare feet quiet against the cracked pavement. The streets were eerily silent, save for the occasional distant hum of passing cars. You hugged the bag closer to your chest, still tense but too tired to think about running. As you walked through the dim streets, a question lingered in the back of your mind.

"I'm surprised you stopped to help me," you finally said, your voice tentative. "Most people here…they wouldn’t have even looked twice."

He glanced back at you, barely breaking stride, and shrugged. "I’ve seen worse things in this place. Trust me, a girl lost in an alley isn't the strangest thing I’ve come across." His tone was casual, almost detached, as if this was just another day in the chaotic world of the N109 Zone.

His nonchalance unnerved you. Why was he so calm? Your anxiety spiked for a moment, thoughts racing. Maybe you had made the wrong choice. Maybe he had his own agenda, like everyone else in this place. But then again, he hadn’t tried to harm you. If he wanted to, he would've done so. You weighed your options, feeling the tug of paranoia, but exhaustion and desperation had their hold. You pushed the doubt aside. For now, you decided to trust him, even if only for a few hours.

As you walked in silence, the two of you eventually came across something you hadn’t expected to see: an old, grimy phone booth, its glass cracked but still intact, standing at the edge of a corner. A relic from another time, long since forgotten by most.

Your heart skipped a beat. A phone. You might be able to call Xavier.

"Do you have any… uh, quarters?" you asked, your voice tight with desperation. You hadn’t thought about it before, but now it seemed obvious. Linkon City had long left behind the need for such old currency—everything there was digital, clean, modern. But here, in the N109 Zone, where everything felt stuck in time, of course they still used quarters. It made sense in this broken-down world.

He stopped, watching you for a moment before sighing. "Yeah, hang on." He fumbled in his pockets for a few seconds, fishing around with a slight look of annoyance. After a bit of clattering, he pulled out a few quarters, handing them over to you without a word.

Your hands trembled as you took them. This could be your chance—your lifeline. You stepped inside the booth, hoping that the old machine would still work, and stared at the dirty receiver.

You stared at the old rotary dial for a moment, panic rising in your chest. You tried to remember how it worked as you slipped the coins in the slot. It had been so long since you’d read about one of these—everything in Linkon was sleek, touch-based, connected by the web. But here, in this forgotten part of the world, you were holding a piece of the past. The process felt foreign, archaic.

Your mind raced, desperately trying to recall Xavier’s number. What was it? You racked your brain, images of his scribbled phone number from messages, fragments of conversations, all blurred together. The numbers danced in your head as you tried to piece them together.

Your heart pounded louder, matching the beat of the seconds slipping away. You were running out of time. With a trembling hand, you began dialing the numbers, trying to focus on every movement, praying you’d gotten it right.

The dial clicked as it spun back after each number, the mechanical sound unnervingly slow. The receiver crackled in your ear as the phone began to ring.

Please, Xavier... please pick up.

The ringing felt endless, each second a heavier weight pressing on your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut, gripping the receiver tight. The noise around you seemed to fade into the background as you waited, hoping, praying that on the other end of the line, he’d be there—ready to hear you, ready to help.

The phone rang again... and again.

Your breath caught in your throat, a prayer hanging on the edge of each ring.

"Hello?" A timid, cautious male voice came through the receiver, muffled by the crackling static, but it was unmistakable.

Relief crashed over you like a wave, and you nearly collapsed right there in the grimy phone booth, your knees buckling as the sound of Xavier's voice reached your ears. After everything—you finally had a connection to him. Tears welled up in your eyes, your breath shaky as you clutched the receiver tighter.

"Xavier!! Xavier, thank god!" you cried, your voice raw with desperation. "I don't even know where to start..."

But after your outburst, only silence greeted you. The line crackled, sputtering with age, the static drowning out whatever response might have come. Frustration surged through you as you gripped the receiver, shaking it in a vain attempt to clear the line. You banged the phone against the booth, biting back a sob as the interference persisted. This thing must be older than you thought. How could it fail you now?

Finally, the crackling stopped, leaving only a tense, quiet hum on the other end.

"Xavier? Is that you??" you asked, your voice trembling, barely holding back the panic. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing this fragile connection—this one thin lifeline.

The line crackled for a moment before Xavier’s voice came through, steady and calm, but with a layer of unmistakable relief.

"It’s you…," Xavier said, his voice soft but firm, as if he’d been holding onto hope for so long that hearing your voice felt like a lifeline. "I’m so glad you’re alive. Are you okay? Where are you?"

The sound of his voice sent another wave of emotion crashing over you. You sob, your body trembling with a mix of exhaustion and relief. For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t alone. He had been looking for you, and now, he was coming.

"Xavier…I was kidnapped," you sobbed, the words finally breaking free, the fear and terror of the last few days pouring out. "I escaped. I’m cold, hurt and scared..."

His response was immediate, his tone both calming and steady, as if he was trying to comfort you even from miles away. "I’m here now. I’ve got you. Just breathe, okay? I’m coming for you. I just need a better idea of where you are."

You took a shaky breath, trying to keep it together, but the tears threatened to spill over. "I don’t know where exactly… all I know is I’m in the N109 Zone. I found a phone booth near a corner store. Everything around here looks abandoned."

There was a brief pause on the other end as Xavier processed the information. "Alright," he said firmly. "Stay there, I'll try and track the location of the phone booth. I’m on my way. Just… hold on a little longer, okay?"

"I—" you hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward the man who had helped you. "I actually found a really nice man. He’s letting me rest at his place. He hasn’t hurt me at all, so don’t worry. He says his place isn’t far from here. I’ll come back to the phone and give you the details after I see it."

Xavier’s voice tightened slightly, the concern clear. "I don’t like the sound of that. Just… be careful. I’m coming as fast as I can. Don’t take any unnecessary risks, alright? If anything feels wrong, leave. Fight like hell if you need to."

"I will," you whispered, gripping the receiver tightly. "Just hurry, please."

"I promise I’m coming," Xavier said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. He paused, just for a second, before continuing. "One more thing though—do you remember who took you? I’ll need a name, in case…in case I don't find you when I arrive. I don’t want to lose you again."

Your heart raced as memories of your captor flashed in your mind. "Yeah! His name is S—"

"Your time is up. Please enter more quarters for an additional 3 minutes," the automated voice cut in sharply, drowning out your words.

Panic surged through you. The call had abruptly ended, the receiver in your hand now silent except for the monotonous prompt asking for more coins. You frantically searched your pockets, but you had no more quarters.

"Your time is up. Please enter more quarters for—"

You screamed, the frustration boiling over as you kicked the phone, the clanging metal reverberating through the phone booth. Your hand gripped the receiver so tightly your knuckles lost circulation, and with a final surge of anger, you thrashed against the booth, the tears you’d been holding back now streaming down your face.

"Xavier!?" you yelled into the dead line, your voice cracking with desperation. He had to hear you. He had to. But all that came through was the cold, indifferent tone of the automated voice, endlessly repeating its demand for more quarters, as if mocking your panic.

You slammed the receiver down, the booth suddenly feeling too small, too suffocating. Every second that ticked by was a second lost, a moment Xavier might not know who had taken you, might not know how to find you.

With a deep, shaky breath, you stepped out of the booth, blinking away the tears.

"Do...you have any more quarters?" you ask, tears threatening to spill from your face at any moment now.

The man outside the phone booth shifted awkwardly and shook his head, his eyes flickering between you and the dark street. He had watched you from the moment you’d rushed into the booth, but now, as you sobbed, his discomfort was clear. He took a slow step forward, clearing his throat, but didn’t say anything at first, unsure of what to do.

"You, uh... you okay?" he asked finally, his voice soft but uneasy. He scratched the back of his neck, glancing around as if he wasn’t used to being in such an emotional situation.

You wiped at your eyes, trying to calm your breathing, but the tears kept coming. The overwhelming frustration of losing the connection with Xavier left you feeling exposed and helpless. You didn’t know what to say to the man, couldn’t find the words to explain the weight of everything crashing down on you at once.

He hesitated, then sighed, taking another step closer. "Look, uh… if it’s about the call, I’m sure your guy’s coming. Sounds like he cares. You just... you know, gotta hang in there. We’ll get to my place soon, and you can rest."

His words, though clumsy, were an attempt at comfort. But even as he tried to reassure you, his uncertainty showed in the way he avoided your gaze, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to handle someone breaking down in front of him.

You sniffed, nodding slightly, feeling drained from the outburst. "Yeah… yeah, I’ll be fine," you muttered, wiping your face with the sleeve of your nightgown, though you weren’t sure you believed it.

The two of you resumed walking, your steps slow and heavy as you sniffled, trying to hold back the tears that still threatened to spill. The man walked beside you, his hands shoved into his pockets, glancing at you now and then with an awkwardness that was hard to miss. He wasn’t saying much, just occasionally looking around as if he wished there was something more he could do, but he seemed completely out of his depth when it came to comforting anyone, let alone a woman on the verge of breaking down.

"You’ll, uh, feel better once we get there," he mumbled, his voice low and sheepish. "It’s not much, but at least you can get some sleep. Maybe eat something."

You nodded, biting your lip as you fought to compose yourself, trying not to let your emotions overwhelm you again. The air between you felt thick, filled with unspoken words and awkward tension. He kept glancing at you as if he wanted to say something more, but each time, he swallowed the words, guiding you quietly through the darkened streets.

The city around you was eerily quiet, the desolation of the N109 Zone even more pronounced in the silence. The flickering streetlights barely illuminated your path, casting long shadows that stretched across the cracked pavement. You hugged your arms close to your body, your mind still reeling from the failed call, but you focused on just putting one foot in front of the other.

The man cleared his throat, his voice hesitant. "I’m… not really good at this kind of thing, you know," he admitted, his tone awkward, almost apologetic. "But you’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it."

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak. His words were clumsy, but there was a strange sincerity in them. Despite his unease, it seemed like he really was trying to help, even if he didn’t quite know how to do it.

As the silence stretched on, the weight of everything hanging between you, you glanced at him through the dim light. His awkwardness, his uncertainty—it was all so clear. But despite everything, he had helped you. He had taken you in when you had nowhere else to go. Given you the last of his quarters. You swallowed, trying to ground yourself in the moment.

"I didn’t catch your name, by the way," you said softly, your voice still a little shaky.

He blinked, as if surprised you’d asked. His steps slowed for a moment before he gave a small, awkward shrug. "Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I didn’t say." He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the ground as he seemed to search for the right words. "It’s Reese," he finally muttered. "Not much of a name, but it’s mine."

You offered a small, tired smile, your voice soft. "Reese… thanks for helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if—" You stopped yourself, the weight of your situation pressing on your chest again.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye and gave a sheepish nod. "Yeah, well… I’m no hero. Just didn’t seem right to leave you out there. Not in a place like this."

As the two of you walked in silence, Reese cleared his throat, glancing over at you with a bit more confidence than before. "So… what’s your name? Figured if we’re gonna be walking together, I should know who I’m helping."

You hesitated, your heart racing slightly. Trust wasn’t something you could afford so easily, not here, not now. Despite his awkward attempts to help, you weren’t ready to give him your real name. Better to be cautious, you reminded yourself. You forced a small smile, trying to keep your voice steady.

"It’s...Mephisto," you said, the lie rolling off your tongue before you could second-guess it. You had vaguely remembered Sylus calling out the name to someone from outside the door, to who you weren't sure. One of his men probably.

Reese nodded, seemingly taking your answer at face value, no suspicion in his expression. "Alright," he said, giving a half-smile. "Nice to meet you Miss Mephisto, despite the strange name."

You nodded back, feeling the weight of the lie settle inside you. It wasn’t much, but it gave you a small layer of protection—just in case. You still didn’t know Reese’s full intentions, and trust here could be a dangerous thing.

"Nice to meet you too, Reese," you replied softly, glancing around the darkened street.

After what felt like an eternity of walking through the dark, desolate streets of the N109 Zone, you and Reese finally reached his place. The house stood at the end of a narrow alley, tucked between two crumbling, abandoned buildings. It wasn’t much to look at—dingy, with peeling paint and windows that seemed to have long lost their clarity. The front door sagged slightly on its hinges, the wood scuffed and weathered, as if it had seen better days a long time ago.

Reese unlocked the door with a bit of effort, pushing it open with a low creak. Inside, the air was stale but warm, a stark contrast to the cold outside. The place was small, cluttered, and dimly lit by a single overhead bulb. The furnishings were old, mismatched, and worn—a threadbare couch sat in the corner, covered in a faded blanket. The walls were bare except for a few crooked picture frames, and the carpet looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. Still, despite its grimy appearance, there was a strange sense of comfort to the place, like someone had lived here for a long time and had made it home in their own way.

"You can sit over there if you want," Reese said, motioning to the couch. "It’s not much, but it’s better than the streets."

You nodded, stepping inside cautiously. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the details—the scuffed coffee table with a few empty bottles on it, the stack of old magazines piled up against one wall. It didn’t scream danger, but you couldn’t shake the wary feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Something about the whole situation made you uneasy. Maybe it was the dim lighting, the smell of old dust, or just the lingering doubt about trusting someone so easily in a place like this.

Still, exhaustion weighed heavily on your body, and the promise of rest—any rest—was too tempting to ignore. You sat down on the couch, the worn cushions sinking under you, and pulled the bag of pads closer to your chest. Reese seemed harmless enough, but you reminded yourself to stay on guard. You weren’t out of danger yet.

Reese busied himself, tossing a few items around to clear space, but the house remained eerily quiet.

As you settled into the couch, trying to make yourself as comfortable as possible, a sudden noise from the backyard broke the uneasy silence. It was faint, but distinct—a thud, followed by the faint sound of something shuffling or dragging. Your heart leapt, and you sat up a little straighter, your eyes darting toward the back of the house.

“What was that?” you asked, your voice tense as you turned to look at Reese.

He froze for a split second, the calm, awkward demeanor you’d come to expect from him faltering. His eyes widened slightly, and he gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, that?" he said, his voice higher than usual. "It’s just… my dog. Yeah, he’s in the shed out back. I forgot to mention him earlier."

You watched him closely, feeling the tension spike in the room. There was something off about the way he said it, the quickness in his tone as if he were scrambling to come up with an explanation.

"Your dog?" you repeated, trying to keep your voice steady, though doubt gnawed at the back of your mind.

"Yeah," he said, nodding a bit too enthusiastically. "He’s old, doesn’t like people much, so I keep him out there. No big deal."

His words didn’t do much to settle your nerves. You stared at him for a moment longer, weighing his response, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. The uneasy feeling from earlier returned, stronger this time, creeping up your spine.

"Right," you muttered, still watching him carefully, but you decided not to push further. Not yet.

"Um... coffee?" Reese blurted out suddenly, his voice still laced with that nervous edge. He offered a forced smile, clearly trying to redirect the tension hanging thick in the air. He rubbed his hands together, glancing toward the small, cluttered kitchen. "I could make us some. Might help, you know, after everything you’ve been through."

You hesitated, still on edge from the strange noise outside and his quick, jittery explanation. Something didn’t feel right, but you weren’t sure if pushing him now would help or only make things worse. You forced a smile of your own, your mind still racing with questions.

"Sure," you said quietly, your voice flat as you tried to calm your nerves. "Coffee sounds good."

Reese nodded, too eagerly, and moved toward the kitchen, fumbling with an old coffee pot. The clattering of cups and the rush of water filled the silence, but your mind was still focused on that noise outside. A dog in the shed? It seemed like a weak excuse, but you didn’t know him well enough to push it.

You leaned back into the couch, the worn fabric sinking beneath you as your eyes drifted toward the back door. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that maybe Reese wasn’t telling you everything. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, trying to keep calm. You were exhausted, but you couldn't let your guard down.

Reese finished brewing the coffee after a few moments, bringing it over to you in a green, cracked mug. You took it from him with a polite smile, setting it down on the coffee table untouched. The steam curled up from the cup, filling the small room with the faint scent of stale coffee. Reese sat across from you, sipping from his own mug, but you couldn’t help but notice how distracted he seemed.

He kept glancing toward the window, then back at his watch, over and over. Each time, his face tensed a little more, as though he were expecting something—or someone. Your wariness only grew.

What is he looking for?

The air felt thick with unspoken tension, and your mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the noise in the backyard wasn’t as innocent as he’d made it sound.

"So…uh, what’s your dog’s name?" you asked, trying to keep up the conversation and maybe get him to reveal more. Your voice was casual, but inside, your nerves were on high alert.

"Dog? What dog?" Reese said absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to the window. His response was automatic, dismissive, as if he hadn’t even registered the question.

"You...said that noise earlier was your dog? Right?"

A few moments passed in uncomfortable silence, and then you saw it—realization hit him like a brick. His eyes widened as he turned to look at you, panic flickering across his face.

You sat up straighter, your heart starting to race. He’d lied. And now he knew you knew.

"Uh, I mean—" he stammered, his voice shaky, "I meant, uh, Rex. Yeah, his name’s Rex. Sorry, I’m just… distracted." He forced a weak smile, but the panic was still there, clear as day. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

You shifted uncomfortably, the tension in the room thickening with every second that passed after Reese's panicked slip. His eyes kept darting between you and the window, as if something outside demanded his attention. Your pulse quickened as the uneasy feeling deepened. Something wasn’t right, and you knew you had to get out of there.

"I should…go," you said, forcing a smile as you slowly stood up, trying to keep your voice casual. "Y'know... Xavier’s probably found the phone booth by now. I should go back and meet him."

Reese blinked, his expression tightening for a split second. The forced calm he'd been trying to maintain wavered as he set his mug down on the table a little too quickly, the clink of the ceramic against wood echoing in the silence. "Go? Already?" He scratched the back of his neck again, his voice strained. "I mean, it’s cold, and it’s not safe out there… Maybe you should wait a little longer."

You swallowed hard, feeling the anxiety rising in your chest. Every instinct told you to get out, but you had to keep your cool. "Thanks for the coffee and everything, but I don’t want Xavier to worry," you replied, taking a step toward the door. "I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse, remember?"

Reese stood up as well, his movements stiff, like he was trying to decide whether to stop you. His gaze flickered toward the window again, and his voice dropped. "Yeah, I get it. But, uh… maybe just a few more minutes. You don’t want to be out there alone, do you?"

You glanced toward the door, your heart pounding in your chest. The unease that had been lurking beneath the surface now felt like a solid weight pressing down on you. Something was very wrong, and you needed to leave—now.

"No, I’m leaving. Thank you for everything, but I need to go," you said, your voice steady despite the panic bubbling under the surface. You tried to move past Reese, your eyes focused on the door, your heart pounding with the hope of reaching it before things got worse.

But then Reese stepped in front of you, his whole demeanor changing in an instant. "No," he said flatly, his voice suddenly devoid of the awkwardness and sheepishness he’d shown before. His tone was cold, almost emotionless, as he closed the distance between you with startling speed.

Before you could react, you felt it—the cold press of metal against your neck. Your breath caught in your throat, and your body froze as the unmistakable sensation of a gun pressed hard into your skin.

"You're not going anywhere," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. His earlier nervousness was completely gone, replaced by something dark and dangerous. "Sit back down."

Your heart raced, your mind scrambling for a way out, but all you could feel was the sharp edge of fear coursing through you. You swallowed hard, trying not to move too quickly, knowing that with one wrong step, things could spiral even further out of control.

"Reese… please," you whispered, barely able to keep your voice from shaking. "You don’t have to do this."

His eyes flickered with something—anger, desperation—but his grip on the gun didn’t waver. "Just sit down, and no one has to get hurt."

Your mind raced, searching for a way out, but for now, all you could do was comply and hope that Xavier was still coming for you.

"I promised them a girl..." Reese muttered, his voice trembling slightly, though the gun still pressed firmly against your neck as you looked up at him from the couch. He glanced away from you, his guilt briefly flickering in his eyes. "Then you just... happened to be there. Right place, wrong time, I guess. So...this is how it has to be."

His words hung in the air, cold and final.

"I’m sorry," he added, though there was no comfort in his apology—just a hollow attempt at easing his own conscience.

Your breath hitched as you tried to process his words, the full weight of the situation crushing down on you. He wasn’t just some awkward guy helping you out of kindness. He had been waiting for someone—anyone—to fill a promise. And you had walked right into it.

As you stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, the cold barrel of the gun pressed against your neck, the door creaked open. Another man stepped into the room. He was taller than Reese, with a thick, rough appearance—his face shadowed by the dim light. His eyes swept the room, landing on you, taking in the situation with a detached indifference.

"Is this the girl you promised?" the man asked, his voice low and gruff, as if he’d been through this kind of scene too many times to be surprised by it. His gaze shifted briefly to Reese, then back to you, narrowing with interest.

You felt a chill run down your spine as his question hung in the air.

Reese didn’t move the gun from your neck, but you could feel the tension in his body shift as he glanced over at the man, clearly nervous about his arrival. "Yeah, this is her," Reese replied, his voice tight. "I just… need a few more minutes to get her to cooperate."

The other man stepped closer, his boots heavy on the floor. His eyes raked over you, cold and calculating. "No time for that," he said flatly. "Get her in the basement. You know how this works, Reese."

Your pulse quickened, fear gripping you tighter as you looked from one man to the other, your mind spinning with panic. What were they planning? You needed to find a way out, and fast, before things escalated even further.

"You’re making a mistake," you said, your voice shaking despite your best efforts to stay calm. "Someone’s coming for me. If you don’t let me go, it’s going to get a lot worse for both of you."

As the weight of your words hung in the air, you weren’t even sure who you were referring to in that moment—Sylus, the man who had kidnapped you in the first place, or Xavier, the one coming to save you. Both names were tangled up in your desperation, your mind too frantic to distinguish between them. All you could do was hope that the threat would ring true, that it would be enough to make Reese think twice.

The taller man smirked, clearly unimpressed. "We’ll see about that," he muttered, turning his back toward the door to pull up the carpet, leaving you alone with Reese and the gun still pressed to your neck. You watch as a metal trap door with a handle is revealed to have been hidden under the carpet and you gasp.

Instinct kicked in, and without thinking, you twisted suddenly, using the brief distraction in Reese’s hesitation to try and break free. You shoved his arm away with everything you had, knocking the gun off balance. For a moment, you thought you had a chance, adrenaline flooding your body as you fought with all the strength you could muster.

"Let go of me!" you screamed, thrashing and kicking as hard as you could. Your elbow connected with Reese's side, and he let out a sharp grunt, but his grip tightened. His face twisted in a mixture of frustration and fear, and he fought back, grabbing your arm and wrenching you toward him.

"Stop it!" Reese growled, struggling to maintain control, but you weren’t going down without a fight. You kicked at his legs, but his hold on you only grew stronger.

The door to the basement creaked open, and before you could react, the taller man reappeared, grabbing you by the other arm. His grip was like iron, and between the two of them, they overpowered you. Your heart pounded as you screamed and clawed, your feet scraping against the floor, but the force of their combined strength was too much.

"No! Please—" you gasped, trying to twist free, but they dragged you toward the open door.

The tall man grunted with effort as they forced you toward the dark, looming stairwell. "Get her down there already," he growled, his tone sharp and impatient.

You struggled even harder, but your muscles were weakening, the adrenaline starting to fade as fear took over. They shoved you roughly down the narrow staircase, and you stumbled, catching yourself against the damp wall. The dimness of the basement swallowed you whole, the air cold and musty. You could feel the fear wrapping around you, tighter with each step they forced you to take.

The taller man was close behind, his heavy footsteps echoing in the cold, damp basement. You felt his rough hand grab the bottom of your nightgown, his fingers curling into the fabric. Panic surged through you as his cold hand snaked across your belly, the touch sending a shiver of disgust up your spine.

You screamed, thrashing wildly against his grip, but his strength overpowered you. The man leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Wouldn't hurt to try her out before the boss gets here..." His voice was thick with lust, and his eyes gleamed with a hunger that turned your stomach.

His hand slid lower, his fingers beginning to snake inside your underwear. You could feel his hard on pressed against your backside. Fear and revulsion took over, and you knew you had to do something—anything—to stop him.

Thinking fast, you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind, your voice desperate and shaking. "I'm bleeding! I'm on my period!"

The words seemed to stop him in his tracks. His hand paused, the twisted hunger in his eyes faltering for a moment as confusion flickered across his face.

"You’re what?" he muttered, his brow furrowing. His grip loosened just slightly, enough for you to take a sharp breath, your heart still racing.

"I’m on my period," you repeated, your voice trembling. "It’s—it’s bad. You don’t want to do this right now."

For a brief second, his disgusted expression told you that he was weighing his options. The thought of period blood clearly repulsed him, and his hand slowly pulled away from your underwear, his lips curling in frustration.

"You’re lucky," he growled, wiping his hand on his pants, his face twisted with disdain. "But don’t think that saves you."

His hand shot up before you could react, grabbing a fistful of your hair and dragging you across the rough concrete floor toward the makeshift shower installed in the corner of the basement. Your scalp throbbed with each pull, the pain sharpening with every step, but you bit your lip, refusing to cry out.

He threw you against the cold, damp wall, the chill seeping through the thin fabric of your nightgown. You barely had time to catch your breath before he twisted the rusty shower handle. Water burst from the nozzle, freezing and unforgiving.

“So filthy,” he sneered, standing over you as the icy water soaked your clothes, plastering them to your skin. “Maybe this will help?"

The cold bit into your bones, and you hugged yourself, trembling, struggling to stay upright as the water pounded down. He stood there a moment longer, watching with twisted satisfaction, before finally turning away, leaving you shivering on the cold, wet floor of the basement.

Sobbing on the cold, unforgiving basement floor, you shiver, your body pressed against the damp concrete, each breath heavy with despair. The chill seeps into your skin, a numbing cold that echoes the hollow ache inside you. Your tears fall, silent and unnoticed, merging with the grime beneath you as exhaustion pulls you deeper into its grip. In the silence, a desperate wish slips through your mind for someone to save you—anyone, even him.

Though Sylus had stolen you away, his presence now haunts you like a ghost. In this unbearable solitude, even the memory of him feels like a twisted solace. You long for his shadow, for those red, gleaming eyes that once pierced through the darkness, and his stark white hair, a glimmer against the void.

At least he gave you warm baths.

The thought slips through your mind, shame twisting in your chest. How could you even think of Sylus now, when poor Xavier was likely out there, rushing to save you, unaware of the torment you’re enduring? Guilt coils around you, tightening with every heartbeat, yet you can’t shake the cruel comfort of that memory. Sylus, for all the wrong he had done, had never left you to freeze, never left you to shiver and break alone.

Your vision blurs as the weight of everything crushes you, and you can almost see him—an apparition of salvation in your mind. His image flickers, vivid and sharp, as your consciousness begins to fray at the edges. The world slips away, piece by piece, and the cold wraps tighter around you.

The cold water finally stops.

In this fading moment, you cling to that impossible hope, that he, with his red eyes and cold hands, might come for you—if only to save you from a fate worse than death.

[sommerbueckers]

ok idk if this is too specific😭 but what about a fic where paige and reader get into an argument and then like a day later paige gets a call from the hospital saying that paige is her only emergency contact and that reader broke her leg and they make up in the hospital. some angst to fluff action ykkk

𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

___________________________________________________________

✰ 𝐰𝐜 :: 𝟑.𝟔𝐤

✰ 𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐥𝐨𝐥

___________________________________________________________

YOU PUSHED OPEN THE door of your apartment, immediately being greeted by your dog, Sadie. She scratched at the part of your leg where she could reach, threatening to rip through your pants. Setting your keys and purse down on the counter, you scooped her into her arms.

You could hear the faint noise of Paige rummaging around in the bedroom, and with Sadie still in your arms, you made your way toward it. The door was cracked, a beam of light illuminating a small corner of the rest of the apartment. You poked your head in and found your girlfriend standing in front of the bed putting things into a suitcase. Her back was turned, she had yet to notice you.

"Are you going somewhere?" you asked with a laugh, not entirely sure what you had walked into.

Paige jumped, hand to her heart. "You jus' scared the shit outta me," she breathed out, "I didn't even hear you come in."

You gently placed Sadie onto the bed, "The lights were off so I thought you were sleep, didn't wanna wake you."

"How sweet," she pursed her lips out at you, putting a small smile on your lips.

"So what is all this?"

"Yeah uh..." she walked over to the dresser to grab another handful of clothes, "Azzi wanted me to come help her with her basketball camp in Maryland so, I was gonna go down there for a few days."

You stared at her, the surprise quickly morphing into a frown. "Maryland? Wait, you're leaving? Just like that?" your voice held a mix of disbelief and hurt.

Paige glanced up, her expression faltering as she met your eyes. “Yeah, I know it’s sudden, but Azzi didn't wanna be down there all by herself so she asked me to come with. Plus it's gonna be a lot for her, havin' to deal with all those kids."

You shook your head slightly, trying to process the news. “I mean, you didn’t mention anything about this. We’ve got a lot going on here, too, and I was planning on us spending some time together this weekend.”

Paige’s face flushed with a hint of frustration. “I know it’s last minute, but this was kind of urgent. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, and I figured I’d just go and be back in a few days.”

You crossed your arms, feeling a pang of anger. “It’s not just about the timing, Paige. It’s that you didn’t think to talk to me first. We were supposed to make plans together, and now you’re leaving without even a heads-up."

Paige’s face reddened as she straightened up, her frustration boiling over. “So now you’re mad at me for trying to help a friend? I didn’t realize I needed your permission to do somethin' that's important to me!" Her voice rose a little as she spoke.

"That’s not what I’m saying, Paige. It’s just that we were supposed to make plans together, and this feels like a huge thing you didn’t even bother to fill me in on.”

Paige’s eyes flashed with anger. “You think I didn’t want to talk to you about it? I just didn’t want to deal with another argument over my choices. You act like I’m abandoning everything we’ve planned when really, I’m just trying to be there for someone who needs me.”

"I need you!" you yelled, "But you think that just because you come home to me every night that means you're there for me, you barely even talk to me!"

Paige’s jaw clenched as she slammed the suitcase shut, her frustration clearly evident. “Well, maybe if you didn’t make everything so damn complicated, I'd be more open to talkin' to you about shit! I’m tryna to balance everything, and it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you!"

You felt a sting from her words, your anger mixing with hurt. “I’m not trying to make things complicated, i’m just asking for some consideration. But you act like that's such an inconvenience for you to give! What do I have to do for you to think about my feelings for a second?!"

"Bro you're actin' like i'm doin' it on purpose! I'm tryna take care of the shit in my life and still make everybody else happy, maybe if you tried to understand that instead of jus' focusing on what i'm doin' wrong then it wouldn't turn into an argument every time you opened your fuckin' mouth!"

You stood there silently, lips parted in shock as a thick silence fell over the two of you. Tears burned your eyes, and you tried, and failed to keep them from falling. Sadie's paw scratched at your hand, her big brown eyes looking up at you pleadingly. You wanted so badly to just cuddle up with her and cry, but you couldn't even stand to be in the same room with Paige at that point.

She stepped closer to you, an apologetic look crossing her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that—"

"You did, and it's fine," you spoke dismissively, "i'm gonna go take a shower." You turned on your heel, keeping your head up the entire way to the bathroom. When you reached the door, on the verge of letting the tears fully fly, you turned back to her. "I think you should sleep on the couch tonight."

Paige’s face fell, her eyes softening with a mix of regret and resignation. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again, realizing that her words wouldn’t fix what had been said. Her shoulders slumped as she nodded quietly to herself, knowing your emotions were too high for her to try and make amends.

The sound of running water drowned out the last traces of the argument, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the soothing embrace of the steam.

PAIGE HADN'T SEEN YOU all day, you had been gone when she woke up and now that she was getting ready to head to the airport, you still hadn't come back. She had called you, twice. She knew you were upset over her leaving, but if you wouldn't even let her apologize, there was nothing she could do about it. The thought of staying did cross her mind, each time accompanied by a pang of guilt. But it wasn't often that Azzi asked her for favors and the least she could do was follow through with it.

She was running behind, Azzi had already texted her that she had left the house and Paige was frantically searching the apartment for her jacket. When she had found it, she threw it on and grabbed her suitcase from the bedroom.

When she finally found it draped over the back of a chair, she let out a sigh of relief. As much as she wished you were there to see her off, she knew she had to go, hoping that when she returned, there would still be a chance to fix everything. Paige tried not to dwell too much on the thought, the memory of your last conversation slowly pressing down on her like a weighted vest. She felt her feet drag across the floor, an anchor caught on the door of your shared apartment as she attempted to drag the chain further than it could reach.

She was making the right decision, that's what she told over and over again as the elevator doors closed behind her. She's be back in a few days where you'd be waiting for her with open arms, having gotten over the petty argument in the time you spent away from each other. She had to be there for Azzi, and you had to understand that.

YOU DECLINED PAIGE'S CALL for a third time, throwing the phone into the backseat of your car and sifting to yourself. You didn't want to hear what she had to say, because no matter what it was, it didn't change the fact that she was still leaving. Still leaving when all you had wanted her to do was stay. You constantly felt like you were begging for her attention, begging to be loved. But Paige's friends always came first, Azzi always came first.

Sadie stirred in the passenger seat, breathing out a tired sigh as she readjusted herself. You had taken her out for some mommy-daughter time; you had been to the pet store for new toys, to Starbucks for a pup cup, and she had made friends with a few other dogs in the park. You couldn't blame her for the way her eyes fluttered shut despite the noise of the traffic outside.

The roads were crowded, so crowded that the cars from the stoplight ahead were backed up into the intersection you were pulling into. Horns were blaring from every direction, and you were crazily moving your eyes around to stay alert. It was because of how alert you were that you were aware of how inattentive everyone else was. You were aware of how oblivious the drive heading toward you was, you were aware of the crash that was going to happen before it even did.

PAIGE HAD JUST GOTTEN to the front of the check-baggage line when she got the call. The bustling airport around her seemed to blur into insignificance as she stood there, paralyzed by the news. It was a moment of dreadful clarity—one that made her question every decision she'd made leading up to this point.

She turned to Azzi, a dazed look in her eye as though she couldn't fully understand what had happened.

"Paige what happened?" she asked her repeatedly to which the blonde just shook her head.

"I gotta go...it's an emergency!" she shouted, running out of the airport and dragging her luggage behind her. She climbed into the first cab she saw, directing him toward the hospital.

"I gotta go...it's an emergency!" Paige shouted, the words bursting out of her in a frantic rush. She barely registered Azzi's surprised expression as she grabbed her luggage and bolted. Her feet pounded against the polished tiles, her heart racing faster with each step. She shoved through the crowd, her mind a chaotic whirl of fear and desperation. Everything around her felt surreal, like a dream she couldn't wake up from.

She stumbled out of the terminal, eyes scanning the row of cabs. Without a second thought, she threw herself into the first one she saw, slamming the door shut behind her. As the cab pulled away, Paige leaned back, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. The city blurred past, a kaleidoscope of colors she couldn't focus on. All that mattered was getting to the hospital, to you.

When the cab pulled up to the front of the hospital, Paige jumped out, nearly toppling over from how quickly she had gotten out. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her hands trembled as she handed the driver a crumpled bill, barely acknowledging his muttered thanks. She glanced up at the imposing building, its sterile facade a harsh contrast to the chaotic whirl of emotions inside her. The automatic doors slid open with a mechanical hum, and she rushed inside, her breath catching in her throat as the cold air enveloped her.

The lobby was bustling with activity—patients waiting, nurses moving briskly, the distant sound of a PA system announcing codes and calls. Paige felt disoriented, her senses overwhelmed by the sterile scent of antiseptic and the murmur of hushed conversations. Her eyes darted around, searching for the information desk. She spotted it to her left and hurried over, her footsteps echoing loudly in her ears.

"S'cuse me," she gasped, leaning on the counter to steady herself. The receptionist looked up, her expression professional but kind. "I'm here for... I jus' got a call. My—my girlfriend was brought in," Paige stammered, struggling to catch her breath. She barely noticed how frantic she sounded, her words tumbling out in a panicked rush.

The receptionist nodded, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she searched the records. "Name?" she asked, glancing up at Paige.

Paige swallowed hard, the name almost sticking in her throat. "Y/N. Y/N L/N," she managed to say, the reality of the situation hitting her with full force. As she waited, the seconds felt like hours, each one stretching painfully long. She could feel her anxiety bubbling up, threatening to spill over.

The receptionist's eyes softened as she found the information. "They were brought in a short while ago," she said gently. "They're in the ER. If you go down this hallway and take the elevator to the second floor, you'll find the emergency department."

She turned and quickly made her way to the hallway, her steps quickening with each stride. The elevator doors opened, and she stepped inside, pressing the button for the second floor with a shaking hand. The ride up was agonizingly slow, the soft elevator music clashing with the turmoil in her mind.

When Paige stepped out, she was immediately met with the controlled chaos of the ER.

She spotted the reception desk and approached it, her eyes scanning for any sign of familiarity. A nurse noticed her and approached, a clipboard in hand.

"Are you here for someone?"

"Yeah, Y/N L/N."

The nurse glanced at the clipboard and then nodded. "Follow me," she said, leading Paige down a series of corridors. The sterile white walls felt suffocating, and Paige's heart pounded louder with each step. The nurse struggled to keep up with her long strides, Paige didn't even know where she was going. A fraction of her was hoping you'd stroll out of one of the rooms, that charming smile on your face as you took her into your arms, kissing her and telling her that everything was fine. That you were fine.

Finally, they came to a stop outside of one of the rooms. The nurse cracked it open, gesturing for the blonde to step inside. Paige's breath caught in her throat as she saw you lying on the hospital bed, hooked up to various machines. You looked so small and fragile, a sight that sent a shiver down her spine. The steady beeping of the heart monitor was a reminder of the harsh reality.

The nurse closed the door behind her, leaving the two of you alone together. You were sitting in the bed with your hands in your lap, picking at your nail folds that had begun to bleed. Your tear stained cheeks were prominent under the fluorescent lights, Paige's heart cracked at the sight. Small bandages covers the scratches on your face, there was a cast on your left leg which was elevated using a few extra pillows. When she pulled a chair up beside your bed, you fixed your eyes on the black TV on the wall.

"I came as soon as I got the call, fuck I was so scared, I didn't know what happened or if you were okay—"

"Of course i'm not okay," you interrupted, a hint of bitterness in your tone, "A car slammed into the driver side of a car that I was driving Paige. Why the fuck would I be okay?" Paige flinched at the intensity of your words, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her guilt. It clung to her, palpable and thick, like heat radiating from an open oven. You didn't care though, it was evident in the way you continued to chew at her. "I was terrified, I couldn't feel my leg, and there was fucking glass everywhere."

You looked at her then, meeting her gaze with an intensity that made her shrink back. For the first time, you saw those familiar blue eyes brimming with unshed tears. It struck a chord deep inside you, a mix of anger and sorrow, but it was too late to stop now. The words that had been stuck in your throat finally found their way out.

"I needed you..." you choked out, your voice breaking. "I needed you, and you weren't there." The rawness of your admission hung in the air, heavy and unrelenting.

For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of the heart monitor's steady beep. Paige's eyes were glossy with tears she struggled to hold back, her lips quivering as she fought to find the right words. But what could she say? The truth was already out, raw and undeniable. You had been alone, scared, and in pain, and she hadn't been there.

"I..." Paige finally whispered, her voice cracking. She looked away, unable to hold your gaze any longer. The silence was suffocating, filled with the weight of everything left unsaid. You watched her struggle, a mix of anger and heartbreak churning inside you. You wanted to scream, to lash out, but all that came out was a strangled sob. She reached out for your hand, hesitantly, afraid that you'd pull away from her. When you didn't, her interlocked your bloodstained fingers with hers.

"I should've been there for you," she breathed out, voice uneven and trembling. It had taken you getting into a car crash, being within mere feet of your life ending, for her to realize how much she needed you. For her to realize that you wouldn't always be there ready and willing to forgive her every time she fucked up. That at any moment, the life she knew could be stripped away from her in seconds.

"I was so caught up in my own world, in my own problems, that I didn't see what was right in front of me. I took you for granted, and I'll never forgive myself for that."

You bit your lip to stop it from trembling, gripping her hands tighter in yours.

"You're my everything, you always have been. It's you before anyone else, and i'm gonna spend every fucking moment of the rest of my life making up for this because that's how much you mean to me. You want me to clean the apartment while you lay up with Sadie then consider it done, you want to go shopping and max out my card then you can do that, or if you jus' wanna give me shit every minute of the day then i'll sit there and take it.

I will never complain about you starting an argument because i'll do anything to be able to hear your voice, even if it is you jus' chewin' me the fuck up. I didn't mean what I said last night, I know you think I did but I didn't. I'll prove that to you however you want me to, just tell me. Tell me what you want me to do and i'll do that for you."

You looked at her, silently, wondering how much truth her words held. "Quit basketball," you whispered.

The blondes eyes widened, her brows raised, and her lips fell open in shock. She scanned for face for a sign of humor, a sign that you were joking and hadn't just asked her to give up the one thing that got her to where she was no. When that small, pleasantly familiar smile pulled at your lips, the thumping of her heart slowed.

"I'm kidding, i'd never ask you to do that..." you mumbled, slightly shaking your head.

Paige stood up, her hand still interlaced with hers. "Can I hug you?"

You looked at her, a myriad of emotions flickering across your face. The anger, the hurt, the lingering fear—all of it was still there, simmering just beneath the surface. But as you gazed into Paige's eyes, you couldn't help but let your love for her completely cloud everything else. She stood there before you, open and exposed, waiting for your response.

Finally, you gave a small nod, your eyes softening just a fraction. It wasn't a full forgiveness, not yet, but it was a start. Paige's face lit up with relief, and she hesitated for just a moment before stepping closer. Her arms wrapped around you gently, almost hesitantly, as if afraid she might break you. You felt the warmth of her embrace, the familiar scent of her hair, and something inside you began to thaw.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself lean into the embrace. It felt good to be held, to feel her arms around you, even if just for a moment. Paige's hug was a promise, a vow to do better, to be there for you in the way she hadn't been before. 

A soft knock sounded at the door, and the same nurse that had directed Paige to the room, now entered with Sadie wiggling in her arms. Paige pulled away, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks streaked with tears. A laugh escaped her lips. It was a small, but much-needed moment of levity in the midst of everything.

"She's been whining ever since we took her away to check her up, figured she'd want to see you two," the nurse smiled warmly, placing her gently into Paige's arms. She then disappeared again, but not before giving a reassuring nod to the both of you.

You watched admiringly as Sadie moved excitedly in Paige's arms, wagging her tail and licking the blonde's jaw. She didn't care that Paige hadn't been there during the crash, that Paige had left them alone to go to the airport, she was just happy that she was here now. You tilted your head, a soft smile playing at your lips. Sadie had forgiven Paige — at least it seemed that way...and that meant that you could find it somewhere in your big heart to forgive her too.

___________________________________________________________

[persesphonestears]

Imagine the Soulmate AU but it's the one where you receive your soulmates scars, where you're Logan's soulmate, but you're his soulmate from 'Wade's' universe. The one he never met (You can be a mutant too or just like a freaky huge (but legal) age gap lol) before he died.

But since Logan just regenerates, he always thought he never had a soulmate, he never had any random scars that appeared that weren't his, so he never really thought he'd ever find the person he was meant to be with.

But then, you, a young (compared to Logan) pretty/handsome thing, moves in across the hall from Wade's apartment. Now if you had had the ability to choose, you'd not be living in this apartment complex, it really looked like you were going to be stabbed while going for a walk. But you didn't have anywhere near enough money to buy a decent apartment in NYC of all places.

You look like you've been through hell and back, which Logan has been, but you don't know that., with all of the scars covering your body. The thing that catches Wade's eye when he sees you moving in, struggling with a box filled with whatever hobby you have, is the amount of scar tissue that seems to overlap itself gracing over your knuckles, or more specifically, between your knuckles.

Internally freaking out over the fact if Logan does have someone he loves, that maybe he won't constantly stab Wade through his head anytime he gets annoyed, but more importantly, he'll be finally happy. Even if Wade won't admit it, he does care about Logan, not just his abs, or chest, or face, or arms, or- you get the point he's hot.

So Wade goes onto plan how to meddle just right to be able to get the two of you to meet, and start to date and then make babies and have little Wolverine spawn running around (Doesn't matter if you're a man, he'll find a way.). Wade has to admit, you're very attractive as well, the children you and Logan would make would be immaculate.

!!not proof read at all lol!!

Don't know what compelled me to think of this or decide to write this drabble. But I did. So. :D

Edit: Uh didn't expect people to like this so much- so now currently making a full thing(Probably a oneshot but might make a few parts) rather than just a drabble!!

Divider made by @cafekitsune !! - also in the image description!

[h4ndwr1tten]

neighbor!toji x reader

this went on longer than i had planned...

cw: mentions of having a boyfriend, mentions of sex, mentions of cheating, mentions of violence, strong language, kinda suggestive? also toji seems very ooc, he was the first person to come to mind when i thought of this. pretend he has money :D

neighbor!toji who is the only person to not welcome you to your new apartment. he only ever comes out at night and returns at the crack of dawn, so it made sense.

neighbor!toji who shut the door on your face when you tried to introduce yourself to him with the intention of asking for some eggs.

neighbor!toji who was so confused as to why you'd still flash him smiles or greet him good morning or goodnight when he had shown no interest in befriending you.

despite that fact pissing you off, you still tried your best to show no hostility in hopes of at least gaining some mutual respect. you valued your neighbors, you never know when you'd need them.

neighbor!toji who is surprised to see you bring a guy to your apartment. he wasn't surprised that you pulled someone—no, you were absolutely gorgeous, so it made sense. he was surprised by the nasty feeling that crawled into his ribcage after seeing you and him.

he figures it's your boyfriend, as he's been coming to your place for a good two months now. moreover, he's heard the moans (mostly male), groans (also mostly male), and the banging of the bed against the wall every few days.

the sound pisses him off. he becomes irrational and stops functioning.

neighbor!toji who, as he's stepping out for the night, sees you struggling to jam your key into the keyhole. he hears your sniffles and choked back sobs, watching you grow frustrated over the door. the keys fall from your shaking hands, which cover your eyes as you can no longer stifle your cries.

he walks over to you and picks up the keys, opening your door and carefully leading you in. you can't even manage to thank him, but he doesn't mind.

neighbor!toji who realizes he despises seeing you cry. he wasn't even your friend, but hearing and watching you only fed that nasty feeling that made its home in his chest, the one that would only ever come out around you.

he knocks on your door the next morning, a bag of groceries in his hand. he doesn't know what compelled him to buy things he thought, hoped would make you feel better. he's never made any move to speak to you, and he prays that you don't find it weird or turn him down now.

a click sounds from the other side of the door before opening, revealing a puffy, red-eyed you.

"toji?" you mutter, wiping your pink, tear-streaked cheeks. "what's going on?"

he stares at you, figuring out what to say without sounding like a desperate weirdo. what was he even desperate for?

"uh... i got ya snacks," he hands you the bag. "thought it'd make y'feel better."

you look down at the bag, seeing some of your favorite chips and sweets. did he notice those frequently being in your grocery bags every time you went shopping?

you tear up and bite your lip as you take the bag from him, attempting to smile out of gratitude.

"thanks, toji."

from then on, neighbor!toji offers you things every time you're upset. when he hears you cry through the thin walls, he'd bring you ramen or a movie he'd think you'd like, because he doesn't want to see you cry.

and because his heart sinks to his ass when you do.

neighbor!toji discovers one night that your boyfriend had cheated on you. he didn't mean to eavesdrop, but how could he not? you were crying again, but this time, it was over the phone with your best friend, and he finally understood your tears.

neighbor!toji who drops off some dinner for you, before stepping out for the night to who knows where.

he returns the next morning at your doorstep with breakfast, offering to eat with you. you gladly accept, the fact that he used to be so cold and unapproachable long forgotten.

when you switch on the news, a gasp escapes your lips as your ex-boyfriend is on the screen. it was reported that he was found brutally beaten in an alley, but there was no evidence pointing to who had delivered the blows.

"oh my gosh, toji! look!" you tell him, shock written all over your face. "who the hell did that?"

he stares at the screen, admiring his handiwork. he left him beaten because he believed that death was too peaceful for the man who deserved anything but. but for your sake, he acts equally as surprised and oblivious. "no idea, doll," he mutters.

neighbor!toji who, from then on, vows to never let anyone hurt you, vows to make you feel better when you're down. crying for the 26th time this week? no problem, he's right there holding you and sharing dinner with you. wanna talk shit about your shitty ex? of course, he was never worthy or good-looking enough for you anyway.

after a month and a half, neighbor!toji musters up the courage to ask you out to dinner. you blush as you take up his offer, and toji is internally running a marathon.

neighbor!toji shows up at your door on a friday at 7 pm, donned in a black button up and jeans, carrying a gorgeous bouquet of roses for you. when you open the door, you practically see hearts in his eyes. you blush—you've found that you blush a lot more around him—and take the bouquet, setting them in a vase before rejoining him. he adores you and how beautiful you look. not that he believes you are much more attractive when you're going out to dinner, he just finds himself thoroughly enjoying different sides of you.

boyfriend!toji who has ever since treated you way better than your shitty ex, or any shitty exes, ever did. he makes you laugh so hard your stomach hurts, makes you smile so much your cheeks are sore. plans dates that are so creative or relaxed, always leaving you excited for the next. fucks you so, so good, that you become the louder one in bed, rather than being silent (shitty ex reference). he patches you up and gifts you in a way no one else could; toji fulfills you.

you're glad he used to be cold.

[latenightdaydreams]

Recruit who openly shows interest in Colonel König. Poor guy doesn't know what to do with this bright-eyed, eager to please recruit who openly says to Horangi and Nikto they'd gladly sit on his lap all day if he'd let them.

I just wanna give best boy so love

Baby girl König deserves a soft girl that goes out of her way to care for him💖

Love At First Sight (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, love, fluff, minor dirtiness

1.0k word count

😍

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.

The first time König saw you was when he was walking to his office. You walked past him and gazed up at him as if cupid struck you with his bow and arrow. You stopped walking and waved to him. König looked around and realized you meant him. He raised his giant hand and waved back to you. The mask on his face hid his confusion.

Later that day, when König went to get himself a coffee from the break room, he saw you there. You turned and smiled brightly up at him again.

“Hello Colonel.”

“Hallo.” He walked past you to the coffee machine.

“How are you doing?”

She’s really trying to make small talk with me? “I’m doing well. You?”

“I’m doing great. I just wanted to say you have really beautiful eyes. They look like a summer sky.”

He stopped what he was doing and just looked at you. “Oh, Danke.”

“Do you need me to make your coffee for you? I don’t mind. I’m on break right now.”

“I—” He looked down at the cup not even halfway filled with coffee.

You slowly take the cup from his hand, your soft delicate flesh coming in contact with his. König looks down at you and feels his heart skip a beat. He steps back slightly to give you room, watching in amazement.

Ever since that day, he seems to see you everywhere. You’re always smiling brightly at him and eager to talk to him. Confusion consumes him. Do you like him? No, you’re too sweet; especially for him. Then today he sees you talking to his best friend Horangi and Nikto. He hangs back, wanting to see if you’re speaking about him. Yes, you are.

“So, he’s single?” Your voice is so hopeful.

“Uh, yeah. The dude is so awkward.” Nikto says. König narrows his eyes.

“He is a good guy.” Horangi defends him.

“I feel like he just needs someone soft to love him.” Horangi and Nikto look at each other and then back at you.

“When he has free time. He’s always doing paperwork.”

“I’d sit on his lap all day then.”

König could feel his ears burning as he heard you say that. So, do you like him?

“Well, his birthday is coming up soon. Maybe give the poor guy a lap dance.” Nikto says, and Horangi laughs. This gives you an idea, though.

“What’s his favorite cake flavor?”

“I- I don’t know.” Horangi admits feeling a little bad.

“Wow, what a great friend,” Nikto nudges him.

König walks away, his heart beating in his ears as he rushes to his office. You see him walk past, your heart fluttering in your chest, and you imagine being held by him.

A week passes and now it’s König’s birthday week. He goes about his day as usual, hoping slightly that you’ll do something for him, but he doesn’t hold his breath. That was until there was a knock at the door. He stands and walks over.

Opening the door, he looks down and sees you with a handful of things. The bags are not festive like he expected from you.

“I came incognito just in case you don’t want people to know about your birthday.” You giggle as you speak.

A smile tugs at his lips as he hears that. The fact you considered his privacy makes him feel truly seen by you. “Come in, please.”

König steps aside and you enter, placing the things on his desk. You place the two gift bags down and then open the Tupperware to show 24 cupcakes. He looks at them and then up at you. The look in his eyes softened. No one has celebrated him since his mom passed away seven years ago.

“I don’t know what your favorite flavor is, so there is white, chocolate, red velvet, strawberry, lemon, and carrot cake.” You bite your lower lip and gaze up at him. What you wouldn’t give to see his face and kiss his lips.

“That’s…a lot of work for just me.”

“You deserve it.”

König looks away from you, not wanting you to see how vulnerable he is right now.

“Do you want to open the gifts?”

“Sure.” He walks closer to the desk, grabbing one bag. Opening it, he sees a Build-A-Bear wearing an army uniform, and he laughs. “This is very cute.”

You laugh with him and hand him the other bag. He reaches in to see a bunch of sweets. His favorite candies, cookies, and chocolates.

“This is all very sweet, y/n. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to make sure you know you’re appreciated.”

“You did a great job.” His voice lowers as he looks at everything. “Will you stay and share cupcakes with me?”

“Yes!” You can hide how eager you are to spend time with him.

He sits in his desk chair and you begin to walk to the other side when he grabs your waist gently, he is terrified for what he is about to do.

“Do you still want to sit on my lap?”

“Of course.” A small blush forms on your cheeks as you fall back on to König’s massive thighs. His arm wraps around your waist to hold you steady.

König lifts his mask, knowing you might reject him once you see that he isn’t a handsome man and that his face is scarred. You look at him and smile instead. He watches as you reach over for a cupcake.

“Which is your favorite?”

“Lemon.” His hand begins to caress your abdomen.

You grab a lemon cupcake for him and peel it. Holding it for him to take a bite. His gaze lingers on you for a second, feeling hesitant, but then leans forward and takes a bite. Your fingers gently wipe away buttercream frosting from his lip and lick it off your finger.

König watches intently. He tries to ignore these feelings, but his body betrays him. His cock slowly gets hard. The look in your eyes tells him you feel it. You lean in to feed him another bite, this time locking eyes. As he chews, you press a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I really like you, König.”

He swallows and nods. “I know…why?”

“Just look at you.” You caress his face with your free hand. “I just want to make you happy.”

König brings his hand to the side of your face and brings you in for another kiss.