Rami Malek X Reader - Blog Posts

I can read smut straight faced but this made me have the perviest grin ever!

Day 3 - Overstimulation - Elliot Alderson x Reader

I’m a day late because this fic is so fucking long. Elliot does you a favor, and things get a little hot afterwards. For someone as touch starved as I assume Elliot is, a sudden rush of physical pleasure has got to be near unbearable, but he wants it. 3.3k words also elliot is asexual

“What do you want me to do?” You asked after a stretch of anxious silence. He moved his grip up to your arm and stroked his thumb across the skin of your wrist silently.

“What you’re supposed to do, when you feel like this,” he muttered, focusing intently on your forearm to avoid looking at you.

“What… would that be?” you inquired slowly, and he heaved a shaky breath.

“How should I know?” he huffed, and when he glanced up at you, you could see a small smile on his face. “You’re supposed to be the normal one.”

You hadn’t meant to, but you had fallen asleep at Elliot’s place. You realized as soon as you woke up to the sound of him methodically tapping at his keyboard a few feet from you, the dim blue glow of his computer the only light in the room. You sat up immediately, dazed and feeling sheepish. You only remembered sitting on his mattress, had you really dozed off so easily? You dimly noticed there was a blanket over you, and you wondered if you had pulled it over yourself. You checked the clock - 5:12am. Elliot must have been up all night.

If Elliot heard you, he didn’t acknowledge it; he just continued to work. You ignored the glow of his computer as it strained your eyes, and pulled yourself off the bed, walking up behind him. He minimized a window of code as soon as you had view of it, setting his computer back to his desktop quickly. He turned towards you slightly, avoiding your gaze.

“I’m sorry that I fell asleep,” you offered in apology, embarrassed. Elliot nodded once, slightly, but said nothing. You let the silence hang for a moment, unsure of what to say.

“It’s done.” he finally spoke, his voice soft. You felt your shoulder twitch - a nervous tick. You were anxious to know what he had found when during his digging, and you waited as he pulled out a cd with the information.

“What’s on it?” you asked, unsure of whether or not you wanted the answer.

“The information you wanted,” he said flatly, and you drew your breath. You turned the cd over in your hands, examining it as if just looking at it would reveal what it held.

“Is it… bad?” You were hesitant to know this answer, and Elliot surely heard it in your voice. He cocked his head towards you slightly, and then pulled open a browser window. He sat back slightly and you leaned in, nervously reading the police report he had found. Your face fell into a frown - the report was for your new boss, a sexual assault charge that had been scrubbed. Your heart sank, but you were, in a sense, glad that you knew before moving along with this new job. You dug your fingernails into the back of Elliot’s chair as you seethed, and he watched you out of the corner of his eye quietly. When you realized he was watching you came back out of your rage, letting out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding in.

“Thank you,” you said to him, although it sounded ingenuine. You took a deep breath and tried again, your voice uneven. “Really, thank you. I needed to know this.” Elliot remained silent for a moment as you backed away from his computer, the disc still in your hand. He turned to face you, and you couldn’t see the look on his face once he was angled away from the computer screen.

“What will you do with it?” he asked, nodding at the disc. You looked down at it, considering, before chuckling and shaking your head.

“What can I do? It’s obvious no one cared; I’ll just have to… find a new job.” You deflated a bit, disappointed. This job had taken you long enough to find, and Elliot knew that too. He was the one who had given you the classified sections of his paper every week when he knew you were looking, slid them under your apartment door. He had been embarrassed when you caught him, but seemed grateful when you thanked him. You knew you could rely on him when it came to this, hacking your boss when you told him you had an awful feeling about him. Elliot was more than trustworthy enough for that - for a price, of course.

“How much do I owe you, then?” you asked, moving back towards the bed to fish your wallet out of your purse.

“Fifty,” he replied softly, and you stopped to look at him.

“It was a hundred the last time, wasn’t it?” you asked, and he looked away.

“Friendly discount,” he offered, his voice flat. He ran a hand through his hair, still refusing to look in your direction. “A loyalty perk.” You had to chuckle at that one, and he glanced over to you quickly.

“What, am I going to find another vigilante hacker to pry into the lives of powerful people on just a hunch? Out of the goodness of his heart?” You asked in jest, and you swore the corner of his mouth twitched up, if only for a second.

“Come on, let me pay you the full price - you let me sleep in your bed, after all.” You walked towards him, holding out a couple of twenties. He reached for you, but passed the bill to instead touch your wrist.

“Pay me later, when you have another job,” he insisted, casting his gaze downward. “Make sure you can pay rent this month.” You cringed - you hated when he did that, reminded you that he could see your life online too. He was right though, you barely had enough to keep your place.

“You could always… crash here if you needed to,” he offered, his voice growing softer as he spoke. You let out a nervous laugh and he twitched a bit. He pulled his hand away with a sharp motion, and you reached out to grab it. He cringed when you touched him, continuing to draw back from you. You realized your mistake and let him, your grip going limp so he could pull out of it.

“Sorry, I forgot - no touching,” you apologized immediately, but Elliot surprised you by not pulling completely away. Instead, he began relaxing after a second - his fingers losing tension as they pressed against yours.

“Sometimes,” he began, a murmur, before looking off to the side and running his hand nervously through his hair again. “Sometimes… I don’t mind… so much.” You raised an eyebrow at him, and you felt him tremble once, lightly, in your hand.

“Okay, let me know when it’s okay for me to-”

“I want it to be-” He cut you off, but stopped speaking abruptly. He let out a labored breath, clearly struggling with what he wanted to say. “It has nothing to do with you, it’s… I want to be okay when you touch me.” You weren’t sure how to respond to that, and he fidgeted nervously.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked after a stretch of anxious silence. He moved his grip up to your arm and stroked his thumb across the skin of your wrist silently.

“What you’re supposed to do, when you feel like this,” he muttered, focusing intently on your forearm to avoid looking at you. You were unsure of what he wanted you to say, what the right answer would be. You had seen him get anxious like this before, and in rare occasions he had lashed out as a result. But now felt different, skewed more positively, and you felt comfortable pushing him for information.

“What… would that be?” you inquired slowly, and he heaved a shaky breath.

“How should I know?” he huffed, and when he glanced up at you, you could see a small smile on his face. “You’re supposed to be the normal one.” You were at a loss for words at this one, and resorted to just softly saying Elliot’s name as you looked at each other. His nostrils flared as he let out a deep breath and, unblinking, he rose towards you.

His lips met yours softly at first, both of you hesitating. They rested against each other until you finally moved, bringing them fully into his in a gentle kiss. It was a few moments still until Elliot began to kiss you back, his mouth moving slowly against yours. Just when you were about to try to speed up he pulled away, turning to the side and muttering a curse under his breath. Before you could question him he turned towards you again, catching your lips with a deeper kiss than before. You met his enthusiasm, bringing your hand up to cup the side of his face. He flinched hard at this, his mouth and nose bumping yours, but didn’t pull away. In fact, he stood, lips still locked with yours, and let his body brush slightly against yours. He placed both his hands firmly on your hips as if he was your date to a middle school dance, and continued to kiss you until you finally had to pull back for some air. His hands balled into fists as you drew your head away, rooting your hips to their spot against him. He seemed confused, leaned towards you to kiss him again, and you pressed your forehead against his while you caught your breath. Your other hand snaked its way into his hair and he whined, the sound reverberating against you with his proximity.

“What do you want?” you asked him, implying that whatever happened next was up to him. He huffed instead of replying at first, pressing his forehead harder into yours. Just before you were about to speak again, he finally answered you.

“I don’t mind,” he said, the slightest hint of strain in his voice, “if you want it, I don’t mind.”

“That’s not an answer,” you said carefully, hoping it didn’t set him off. He whined again, and his hands tugged at the fabric clenched within them.

“I don’t really… I don’t…” he started, and you could hear the panic starting to creep into his speech. You ran your thumb along his cheek reflexively to sooth him, and he pressed ever so slightly into your touch.

“I don’t usually… crave… this sort of thing,” he admitted, wavering a bit. “But if you want it, I don’t mind.”

“What about what you want?” you asked, and Elliot turned towards your hand on his cheek, moving so your thumb grazed over his lips instead. He sighed, though labored, and shivered a bit before he answered.

“Just touch me,” he pleaded, and you obliged. You kissed at his jaw until he turned back to meet you with his lips. You brought your hands down to his chest, rubbing over it through his shirt, and slowly moved to shrug his hoodie off him. He stiffened when he first realized you were trying to undress him, but you whispered that he was all right against his mouth until he relaxed. He let you take his hoodie off before he tugged up a bit at your shirt, and you broke away from him to let him pull it over your head. He ran his hands along your bare skin, twitching slightly, before pulling his own shirt off and pressing himself against you. He shivered hard when your skin hit his; his arms slowly wrapped around you and pulled you even closer. When he was pushed against you, you could feel how hard he was, and you squeezed your hand between your bodies to rub him through his jeans. He gasped loudly into your shoulder, first reflexively pulling away from the contact, and then pressing into your hand once he had his bearings. He fumbled with your bra behind your back, looking over your shoulder as he tried to unclasp it. Once he worked it off he tossed it aside, and he trembled when he pressed himself into your bare chest again. You gasped when he moved against you, rubbing your nipples with his skin, and he whined low in his throat with appreciation.

“Touch me,” he pleaded with you again, more desperate than the first time. You moved to slide your hand under his pants and he stopped you, grabbing your wrist.

“You first,” he demanded, and you conceded, moving away from him slightly to pull down your jeans and panties. He stared at you for a beat or two, his eyes raking over you, until you felt self conscious and moved towards him. He stepped back, but then squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, as if he was reminding himself what was happening. He turned from you, pulled off his own pants, and knelt down on the bed. After a moment he looked back at you, and you tentatively moved towards him. He laid down as you lowered yourself, and you lay down next to him, wondering what you should do next. Elliot brushed his fingers against yours and you took this as a sign to continue, rolling towards him to kiss him. He slotted his arm under you and his other hand landed at your hip, his fingers trembling slightly before they fully made contact with your skin. He let you slide your tongue into his mouth, kissing back hesitantly at first. He pulled at your back a little and you shifted into him, pushing your body against his. He moaned slightly into your mouth at the contact, and you felt his cock twitch against your leg. The movement made you hot, and you reached down to stroke him again.

He practically cried out when you gripped him, but this time he didn’t pull away. He pressed his face against yours, whimpering as you slowly ran your fingers up and down him. Precum dribbled out of the head of his cock, and you ran your thumb through it. He yelped when you rubbed his head, but pushed his cock back into your hand when you pulled away, even though his face appeared to be screwed up in pain.

“Touch me,” he whined again, rutting himself against your hand. You gripped him once more and he moaned, his head rolling back. You wanted badly for him to touch you back, but doubted he would be very effective, with all his trembling and twitching.

“I want to fuck you, Elliot,” you confessed, and he whimpered in reply. “Will you be okay with that?” you pressed further, and he nodded, still thrusting into your grasp.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked him, releasing his cock in an attempt to get him to pay you attention. He whimpered more, but reached for his dresser, rummaging around in a lower drawer before producing one. He fumbled with it at first, his fingers trembling, and even though he finally unwrapped it he was unable to still his hands long enough to roll it on. You put your fingers over his gently to stop him before taking it yourself. He gasped when you held him steady and rolled it on, his head rolling back onto his mattress. He seemed to have no desire to move once you had done this, and after realizing this you climbed into his lap yourself.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” you asked again, and once more he nodded. You sat yourself forward, grabbing him behind you, and slowly lowered yourself down on his dick. He howled as you did this, a long, high moan that rung in his empty apartment, his voice wavering louder or lower as you sank and took more of him inside you. He was nearly writing when you were flush against his hips, devolved to shivers and whimpers as his cock twitched inside you. You waited for him to settle down before you lifted off him a bit, but even that slight movement made him shake.

“God Elliot, does it really feel that good?” you asked, incredulous. He jerked his head in a nod, a whine leaving his mouth.

“Please don’t stop,” he pleaded, though his speech came out strangled. “Please keep moving.” You settled back down against him again and kept moaning, his cries becoming shorter and more frequent as you moved more quickly. A faster pace felt good for you too, and you steadied yourself by placing your hands on his chest while you bounced. Elliot’s constant movement meant his cock was continually twitching inside you, allowing it to press at a new point inside you every time you came down on him. It wasn’t long before you were moaning along with him, his dick seeming to reach deeper inside you with each thrust.

Elliot squirmed under you, his torso twisting and his hands gripping at the sheets. The sight made you just as wet as his cock inside you did, and as you edged closer to release you brought your hand down to rub yourself. He let out another labored cry as you tightened around him, bucking against you hard as he wiggled around.

Suddenly Elliot sat up, bringing his body flush against yours. He wrapped his arms around you, tugging you as close to him as he could get you to be. His head rolled onto your shoulder as you grinded yourself against him, moving as much as you could in his lap. Elliot whimpered and whined and gasped, jerking constantly both outside and inside you. You rested your hands on his shoulders, your fingers caressing his neck, and you could almost feel his blood pulsing in his veins under them. You could feel your orgasm coming as Elliot began to claw at your back, and he started trying to talk as you got tighter.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” he started chanting, forcing words out of himself in labored gasps. “Please don’t stop, I’m gonna cum.” In all your moving and rubbing you didn’t have time to echo him, but you moaned out as your orgasm hit you, rolling your hips into his as you squeezed him rhythmically. He twitched in you harder then, still repeating he was going to cum. He wiggled under you, twisting this way and that until finally he came with a shout, bucking and writhing. As good as your orgasm felt, Elliot’s looked better - though, he could have also been mistaken for looking like he was in excruciating pain. Maybe he was, as he continued to whimper even as he stilled, sheened with sweat and looking as if he were about to cry. He let himself fall back against the bed, releasing you so you remained sitting in his lap.

“Are you all right?” you asked him, and he gave you a small nod, his gaze fixed on his ceiling. You attempted to lift yourself to get off him and he cried out sharply, as if he were in pain. You apologized, trying to move as slowly as possible, but Elliot’s face still screwed up as you lifted yourself off his cock. He made no motion to get up so you began cleaning up yourself, piling clothes around for easy morning dressing to start. You also fetched him a hand towel you ran under cold water, pressing it to his hot, sticky skin. He flinched slightly at first, but soon sighed into it, taking it with his own hands and pressing it to where he needed to cool down. You took the condom off him yourself, grimacing as he hissed in pain at you touching him.

“I know El, but I have to,” you told him, and he only wheezed in response. After you disposed of it you were unsure of what to do next, standing near his bed still naked.

“We’re good, you know,” Elliot suddenly said, startling you. “For the hack, all squared up.” You laughed, nerves that had tensed relaxing themselves.

“I don’t know Elliot, I think you might owe me some money after that one,” you teased, and he smiled a bit. Just as you were about to move to grab your clothes, he reached an arm out towards you.

“Stay,” he croaked, and he looked like he was caught between wanting you there and wanting to not want you. But you obliged anyway, because it was what you wanted too. Again you laid down next to him in his bed, but this time he made no move to pull you against him, and you gave him his space. He seemed to doze off, and just as the sun was starting to come up, he moved his hand out to brush his fingers against yours, a final shiver running over his body.

Im so proud of the Borhap Cast

The fact that there was so much pressure and expectations that they had to meet was hard but they managed to go through it and nail their performance <3

BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY WON AND IM ACTUALLY CRYING LOOK AT THESE HAPPY BOIS

Interview

A/N:im very bad at writing but hope you enjoy and this wont be exactly like the ellen interview

Summary: you played Mary Austin in bohemian rhapsody

You and rami got invited to go to Ellen's show today you were backstage with Rami on your dressing room currently eating sandwiches while waiting to get on stage

"Are you excited to go on stage?" Rami asked as he wiped his mouth with a tissue smiling at you

"Im hella excited come on ellen is like one of the best person ever aaaaand we rarely get interviews together" you told him as you fixed your hair while looking at yourself at the mirror

"Agreed" rami says you finally finish fixing your hair just in time as you hear a worker knock on your door

"You guys are on in a minute" the man said then walked away

You and Rami stood up then walked out of the dressing room finally reaching the stage just waiting for your names to be called, you held each others hands it was soft and it fit so perfectly with yours

"You ready?"

"Ready as ill ever be"

"Ladies and Gentlemen Rami Malek and Y/N L/N" you guys walked on stage waving at the audiences who were screaming at the top of their lungs you guys sat down beside ach other then shook hands with ellen

"Im so glad to have you guys here you are looking fabulous by the way" Ellen says with that usual bright smile of hers

"We are so glad to be here this time together ofcourse" Rami says smiling at her too

"You guys were in the film bohemian rhapsody and how did that feel like?"

"It was amazing it was so surreal to be playing a character like Mary which obviously was a person that meant a lot to Freddie and her still being alive really gives me more pressure to play her"

"Well obviously you did a good job on the film and im guessing having a chemistry with Rami wasnt that hard to make" ellen says you and rami laughs as the crowd started to squeal

"Having chemistry with your girlfriend who is also playing a love interest in the film is very hard yeah" Rami says jokingly as you slap his shoulder

"In all seriousness it wasnt really that hard most of the time we didnt break character even in between takes"

"So we pretty much ended up calling each other darling or love for the rest of the production"

"Lets get to the good stuff did you enjoy the part where ...oh also spoiler alert guys where you and y/n or otherwise mary was laying on the couch half naked?" Ellen ask as the crows roars with laughter you slightly blush and look away not sure on how to answer that

"I mean ive seen in her in less clothes but....." rami laugh as you just cover your face with your hands and the crowd screaming more and more

"Hahah but to answer your question its more comfortable with someone you know"

"Oo well that was an interesting answer i want to know more about the film later on so lets take a quick break before we start"

The Couple Next Door IX (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Eight Here

A/N: Surprise! I’m briefly back from a year-long Hiatus and I have one chapter for TCND, one for ATU AND a George Harrison one-shot I’m just gonna drop and then probably disappear again for another few months. I’m also finding it even more difficult to write for Roger seeing as I’ve kinda been listening to nothing but The Beatles for the last fifteen months and I really only hear Queen at work, so that’s gotta change. But I am very sorry about the LONG wait. I really do appreciate you guys, and I think you’ve all waited quite long enough to find out what happens next...

Summary: Roger and Y/N spend the morning taking care of Bobby; they talk a little more about the future and come to the conclusion they both want the same thing.

(Let your imagination run free, bc this can be either Canon or Borhap!Roger)

WARNINGS: Swearing is probably a given at this point, self-doubt, mentions/ suggestions of sex (advise you to avoid if you’re under 18), and I usually revise when I’m stoned so there’s probably some typos in here too, sorry.

Rated T for Teen-- (I feel like a video game rating smh)

Bobby was crying again.

Granted, it was about seven in the morning, and he did sleep for the rest of the night.

Roger was the last of the both of you to wake up; not because of the crying-- he didn't even hear the crying-- but he was wrapped up in the blankets with you, and you were trying to remove yourself from his grasp.

"Don't leave," Roger grumbled as he pulled you tightly against his chest, eyes remaining closed as you whispered back to him.

"But I have to go. Baby's cryin'."

Roger loosened his grip on you, much to his dismay, and you slipped from his embrace, leaving him cold, and alone.

"Come back, Baby..." He really hoped his gravelly plea would entice you to return from the nursery after tending to Bobby, and although you were probably against having sex in your friends' bed, he figured there was no harm in testing the waters.

"That's not how that works when you have a baby, Rog. The day starts now."

Roger groaned in protest, but as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, he revealed to himself that you were no longer in the room, and the baby's cries settled when he heard your voice float down the hall from the nursery room.

Roger, as much as he didn't want to, tossed the comforter off of his body, and after rising to his feet and combing his fingers through his hair, he shuffled out of the bedroom and made a beeline to the stairs.

He was glad he was familiar with John's kitchen; because he was certain you had no idea where anything was, meaning he would be the one preparing breakfast that morning, and the one following it, most likely.

Fuck it, he would (try to) cook you up seven different meals a day if you asked him.

Anything for you.

He put the kettle on, and moved to the pantry in search for John's teabags, yawning lightly as he pulled the door open.

Nothing in the pantry really stuck out to him as being a good breakfast that morning, so Roger ended up migrating to the fridge after retrieving the tea, where his eyes fell on the carton of eggs on the bottom shelf.

He settled on making French Toast for breakfast seeing as he, according to you, made the best French Toast in England.

So he got to work whipping up some eggs and pulling four slices of bread from the bread box on the counter-- but not before he got one of Bobby's bottles out for you, warmed it, and placed it on the kitchen table.

Roger was frying the French Toast in no time, and he hummed gently as he busied himself with focusing on the now whistling kettle, and when the right time to flip the toast would be.

"... I thought you were still in bed," your words were sudden, and it made Roger jump a little. But when he realized it was only you, Bobby in your arms, his mouth contorted into a dopey smile.

"Nah," Roger turned the pan's burner down a little, and after he flipped the French Toast, he set his spatula on the counter, turning to face you.

"I was gonna let you sleep in, since you were so reluctant on waking up," you explained with a yawn. "But here you are awake, and making breakfast before me."

"Well it wouldn't be fair then, would it? Me sleeping in while you've all this work to do?"

"I don't know, would it?"

"I really don't think so, Dove."

He felt pride swell in his chest when pink dusted your cheeks at the sound of your new nickname, and he took this chance to swoon you further by pulling you in gently by the elbows, and he enveloped both you and Bobby in his embrace.

"Beautiful..." Roger's voice was barely a whisper as he touched his lips to your jawline, and you responded with a soft exhale.

"Even when you've just woken up," Roger mumbled against the skin of your neck, lips curling into a smile, "you are the prettiest goddamned thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"Mmm, down, boy," you purred back jokingly, taking a small step back. "Baby still needs to eat."

"Well yours is coming right up," he teased, "and Bobby's is already at the table." Roger pointed to the bottle on the other side of the room before tapping your rear. "Take a seat, and I'll bring your food over."

You didn't have to be told twice. You took a seat at the table, and although Bobby was growing a little agitated, it was short lived when you put the bottle of milk in his possession.

Roger, not five minutes after you sat down, joined you at the table with your French Toast and your mug of tea, made just the way you liked it, of course.

"'S the right tea, yeah?"

You took a quick look at the label hanging from the mug.

"Yep." Your eyes squinted after letting the label fall where the string tied to it would let it. "Y'know, you've been making my tea right for months, you don't have to check to make sure you're right."

"You know I'm always gonna make sure it's to your liking."

"And I love you for it."

"Hopefully for other things too. I'm not just good at being your barista."

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm not overlooking your other good traits," you smiled as you brought your mug to your lips and having the first sip of tea of the day.

As Roger sat down next to you with his own plate of food and mug of tea, he decided to wait on Bobby to finish so he could eat with you.

So, naturally, he took the time to evaluate again what kind of situation he was in.

There was nothing like watching you care for Bobby. Roger had known you for years, and not once in his life did he ever think he would be sitting next to you at breakfast while feeding a baby, whether or not the child was his own, or yours.

The whole scene looked too good to be true, though like the previous night, Roger just drank in the sight of you putting all your love and care into a child at breakfast with him.

How did you think you weren't cut out for being a mother?

This was in your nature.

The domesticity of the situation made Roger a little emotional. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to experiencing a breakfast with a family he'd built, and he spent every passing second filling his mind and heart with the beautiful sight before him.

"Y/n, you would make a wonderful mother." Roger's words left his mouth faster than his brain could register what he'd said.

You looked to Roger from Bobby, cheeks and tips of your ears darkening, and Roger was talking again before he could realize it and catch himself.

"Any man would be so damn lucky to have you. I honestly can't believe you stick around me still."

Your face was feeling real hot, now. Roger's head was still lagging behind his words, and clearly, he wasn't done talking.

"You could be out building a beautiful family right now, but instead you're babysitting with your best friend who you also occasionally sleep with. I just... I don't understand."

It took you a second to respond, but Roger didn't blame you. Honestly, he didn't even know what he would have said if he were asked the same question.

"... Well, I love you, Roger."

Your words were simple, and Roger knew your statement was nothing but platonic, but that didn't stop his heart from pounding against his ribcage.

You'd said those exact three words to him minutes earlier, but the context of the conversations contrasted their meanings.

"But we promised each other at the beginning of all of this that we'd be fine giving up pursuing family life if that means living with one another..."

"... You sound unsure, now."

The atmosphere felt heavy, and it was almost as if Bobby had known making noise wasn't in his best interest. He decided to finish eating at the right time.

"... It's not that I'm unsure. It's just..."

Roger waited patiently for you to answer, but you had noticed Bobby finished his milk, and you took the bottle from him.

You burped him, and placed a pacifier you pulled from your pocket in Bobby's mouth. You must have gotten it from upstairs before you came down.

"Let me," Roger offered his arms out for the baby, and you let him take Bobby. You'd stood up and moved to the sink to wash the bottle.

Meanwhile, Roger, who'd also gotten to his feet, was slowly walking around the kitchen. He was praising Bobby for finishing all his breakfast, insisting he was so proud of him, his smile wide and gaze adoring as he evaluated the child in his arms.

"It's just that. There. The way you're behaving with him," you turn to face Roger, finger pointed at him. "The way you're treating him as your own."

Roger's mouth opened and closed a few times, but after shutting his jaw for the third time, he decided the best thing to do in this situation would be to keep quiet.

"You'd make the most wonderful father, Roger. The way you behave with Bobby, god, the way you behaved with Raymond the other day," you sounded frustrated, and all Roger could do was watch you pace the kitchen, his sheepish face now a deep red.

"It's just that I would want the father of my kids to be just like you. I wouldn't settle for anything less."

Roger opened his mouth again to speak. He felt like his chest was on fire. Your thoughts were becoming painstakingly parallel to his, Roger had noticed. He couldn't get any words out before you started speaking again.

"Like you said last night, this job is giving us a chance to experience what it'd be like to have a family... and maybe I'm upset I did throw the chance to have all of that away."

You looked like you were on the verge of tears, and all Roger could do was watch you and listen to what you had to say.

"Roger, I hope you know you will always have a special place in my heart. You're my family, you have been for the last five years of my life, and there's no doubt about it. But being able to have a child..."

Your hands ghosted over the robe's fabric covering your definitely unpregnant belly. "... I think I want to have children."

"... Y/n I hope you know I feel exactly the same way."

And then everything was clear.

Roger understood where his band was coming from.

Getting married to you would solve all your problems.

He knew what the both of you were thinking in this new moment of silence, but there was absolutely no way Roger was going to fall to one knee and propose to you right now when he wasn't even romantically involved with you.

And he just felt it would be very inappropriate if he took this moment to spontaneously ask you on a romantic date with the intentions of courting you.

"Listen, Y/n," Roger finally built up enough courage to break the silence. Bobby cut him off with a short cry, and Roger immediately started swaying the baby in his arms. Sure enough, Bobby's agitation ceased, and Roger could continue, keeping the movement going.

"Just because we're living together without families now doesn't mean we won't be able to have families, say, five to ten years down the road."

At this point, although it was necessary, Roger didn't really want to mention the discomfort he felt when imagining you falling for someone who wasn't him.

Your eyes were big and sad, lip pouted as you considered Roger's words. "... are you sure?"

The idea of you and him having to move out of the condo Roger risked the both of your love lives for didn't sit well with him.

You'd be gone making sweet love to some lucky asshole who probably didn't deserve to be in your presence, while Roger goes on a bender, gets ahold of some weed and coke, and sleeps with enough girls to distract him from realizing he'd thrown the best thing in his life away-- you.

He didn't want you to think he thought you were selfish. The last thing he needed right now was to feel guilty for making you feel guilty.

So he just nodded. "No house isn't forever anyways." When you didn't respond to his little joke, he sighed.

"Y/n, we're still so young. You don't have to commit yourself to anything like that just yet. Enjoy being able to go out drinking with me every weekend, and sleeping in on our days off. Your chance to start a family will come when the time is right."

You let out a shaky breath. Roger was actually a little surprised with how well you were keeping yourself together.

But his actions put the both of you here, and to see that this conversation nearly reduced you to tears had Roger drowning in guilt, even without the help of mentioning any of his inner conflict to you.

"I just hope you're right." Your voice was broken and your fingers were tangled stressfully in your hair.

"Hey," Roger's voice had gone soft again, his rocking slowing to a halt, and you looked up to find him with an open arm, awaiting your touch.

You slowly unravelled your fingers from your hair, and you gave into the hug not moments later. Roger pulled you to his chest tightly, his free arm occupied by the baby.

"Y'know... I made you French Toast to start the day off good." When you didn't say anything in response, Roger pulled away from you just enough to look you in the face.

He was giving you that same look he did at the Garrison's again; that unreadable gaze he'd achieved with those big blue eyes that seemingly bored holes into your very soul.

His free hand slipped up from your back to your neck, and he leaned in to just touch his lips to the corner of your mouth.

So close, yet so far away.

It wasn't before long that he pulled away from you, but Roger just couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"You come sit down and enjoy your French Toast, Dove. I've got Bobby."

"But--"

"Please?"

Roger knew he'd convinced you as soon as he said that magic word. Though you took a moment to look from the bundle in his arms to the breakfast you really were dying to dig into, you eventually sighed out a gentle "thank you," before taking your seat again at the table.

He came around and kissed the top of your head. "Enjoy, Honey." Roger took a seat next to you, Bobby still in his one arm, and the both of you ate your French Toast in relative silence for the first few seconds.

"... God, you really do make good French Toast, Blondie." Roger was smiling now. At least you were talking again.

"I only improved my cooking skills for you, y'know," he admitted with a mouthful of his food, though he didn't sound ashamed of it.

"And thank God for that. Cooking every other night sure beats cooking every night."

"You can say that again," Roger mumbled before shoving the last of his breakfast into his mouth. You still slowly ate away at your meal, and Roger was making funny faces at Bobby in between taking sips of his tea.

The telephone in the living room started ringing, and you stood up to go get it, but Roger immediately dropped his fork and grabbed your wrist.

"Nuh-uh. I just finished eating. You still have a little bit to go. Take Bobby and I'll get it." You scooped the baby up without another word, smiling when he opened his eyes.

"Can you at least bring back his rattle from his play pen?"

"Can do, Princess," he called over his shoulder as he approached the phone.

"H'lo?"

"Roger?"

"Oh, hey, John!" Roger tucked the phone's handset under his chin, carrying the telephone in his left hand so he could get Bobby's rattle.

"Isn't it a little early to be up?" Roger glanced at the clock, which read that it was quarter after seven.

"Biological clocks. Just wanting to checking in. Is Bobby okay? Has he been any trouble?"

"No, of course not! He's doing fine, John." Roger tucked the rattle in his back pocket when he found it, and returned to the writing desk where the phone was meant to stay.

That was something he loved about you. You always bought him pyjamas with pockets. The concept was cool, and being able to use them was even cooler.

"Y/n's got him in the kitchen right now," he explained, taking the handset again with his now free hand. "We're all just finishing up breakfast, actually."

"Oh good. How is she?" John paused for a second, his voice dropping a little lower. "... How are you guys?"

Roger made sure his voice was a little quiet, as well. "John, this may have been your guys' best idea ever. I don't know why I was against this in the beginning."

"Really?! What's happened already?!" John, everyone would have guessed to be one to avoid certain kinds of gossip, though when it came to Roger's business with you, he liked checking up on that.

"I told her about all that family stuff."

"And?"

"And, well..." Roger set the phone back onto the desk and scratched the back of his neck. "... She may or may not be having the same problem," he mumbled.

"So... so you both want a family?" John tried clarifying.

"Yes."

"Then why are you two not together?!" Roger slipped away around the corner into the main hall with just the receiver so he was a little further away from the kitchen. He didn't want you hearing their conversation, or John through the receiver.

"Well I'm not asking her here!"

"Then where? And when?"

Roger knew John was just getting excited, and his questions honestly had Roger brainstorming every possibility when it came to asking you.

"... I don't know, yet," Roger said after a while of thinking. "But soon. God, it needs to be soon." He didn't quite know why he was pressuring himself to ask you sooner than later.

Maybe it was because he was scared someone much better and more deserving of you (or alternatively, a selfish prick) was going to waltz in and steal you from him just before he had you for sure.

"Do you need any help with that part? I can get Fred and Bri--"

"No no no, it's okay, John." Roger leaned up against the wall of the hallway, fingers tapping the handset absentmindedly with his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

"You guys have already done enough, really. I... I think I'm good on my own from here."

"Well, I'm glad," John expressed to Roger. "It's not every day you need to help Roger Taylor get with a girl, y'know."

"This is different, and you know it."

"I just like to tease," John defended, and Roger could even hear a smile evident in his words.

"Anyways, Veronica and I will be home tomorrow around noon. Y/n's got our number. You two take care."

"Of course, you too," Roger was making his way back to the writing desk.

"Thanks. Oh, and Roger?" John added quickly.

"Hm?"

"If you two end up doing anything, for God's sake, please wash the sheets."

As John was speaking, you'd walked into the living room with Bobby in your arms. "We're gonna go and have some play time, now! Yes we are!"

Roger was too panicked by your presence to even realize you weren't paying any attention to the phone call, and he hoped to God you didn't hear a single thing John had said. "Yeah-yes! Laundry. Will do."

He nodded his head once, though John couldn't see him, and after saying their good byes, Roger hung up the phone.

He turned to where you were in the living room. You were looking in the play pen for something, and Roger suddenly remembered the rattle in his back pocket.

He pulled it out hurriedly and held it out to you. "Shit! I'm so sorry about that--"

"Don't swear, Roger," you took the rattle, a smile on your lips you both knew you were trying to frown away. "There's a baby here."

"What? He doesn't know what that word means."

"Well, the more you keep saying it, the more of a chance he has at that being his first word, and I do not need the Deacon Family hunting us down for teaching their kid swears." You looked from Roger down to Bobby, shaking the rattle gently and grinning when Bobby squealed happily and reached out for the toy.

You took a seat on the couch, and played around with Bobby while Roger went back to the kitchen to do the dishes.

From 7:30 AM to about 2:30, all that really happened was play-time and lunch, something Roger prepared. You offered to do the dishes, but Roger wouldn't allow it. He just suggested you put Bobby up for his nap. He'd fallen asleep in your arms during play-time, like he did with Roger the night before.

The both of you thought it was crazy Bobby would just fall asleep rather than cry, but honestly, neither of you were complaining. Quiet baby for the win!

Roger just finished putting the last plate on the drying rack on the counter as he listened above for your footsteps leaving Bobby's room. He dried his hands off with the dishtowel hanging over his shoulder after turning off the faucet.

From behind, Roger felt a pair of arms slowly circle his body, and he smiled warmly at the feeling of you pressed against his back.

"He asleep?"

"Mhm."

Roger's smile only widened as you inched your palms up his chest. He turned in your arms and pressed his hands against your hips, inching you closer as he leaned back against the kitchen sink.

"Well, what do we do, now?" Roger asked. He sounded like he was up to no good. With the sultry look in his eyes and the way the smile on his lips looked like he was repressing a naughty suggestion, he knew you knew he already had something on his mind.

"Well, I mean," your hands slipped up into Roger's long hair, fingers tangling themselves between the strands. "Anything, really."

You knew what game Roger was playing, and you loved how cute he was, thinking he was going to have you on your knees for him.

His eyes shamelessly raked over the top half of your body, and he squeezed his hands, still at your hips.

"What'll you be doing with your free time, Roger?" You took one more step closer to him, and he pulled you the rest of the way to him so your groin was flush with his.

"I'm looking right at her."

He was already strained against his jeans, and you just offered a smile, fingers tightening their grip in Roger's hair.

"Mmm... I kinda like the sound of that," you admitted lowly, half of a smile on your lips. You shifted your hips from side to side, and Roger tried to pull you even closer.

You rolled your hips against Roger again, and the cheekiness in his face fell with a look of long-awaited relief, and his head dropped to your shoulder.

One of his hands moved up to grab you by the back of your neck, and when he lifted his head to look at you again, his second hand dragged upwards from your hip to squeeze your waist.

Roger lifted the hand by your neck, and combed your hair back with his fingers. His eyes fell onto yours for a brief moment, and you could have sworn there was something he tried to tell you there.

You just couldn't read him.

But he didn't care. He pulled you in close again, and his lips were on yours.

You'd kissed Roger before. Not in public, but definitely in the bedroom. And they weren't very scarce. Honestly, if Roger's lips weren't somewhere else on your body, they'd be on yours.

But why was this feeling different from all the other times he'd kissed you?

He was being a lot less forceful and needy than he usually was.

His grip wasn't tight on you, and it wasn't like he was crushing you against him as if indicating he needed more of you, now.

He was holding you rather, and the hand at your waist circled around to press against your lower back. The hand on your neck shifted a little forward so Roger could gently slide the pad of his thumb down the column of your throat.

The both of you were holding your breath, and Roger was the first to pull away. The both of you sucked in some air, and before you could even draw in a full breath, Roger's lips were on yours again.

He pushed towards you, guiding you backwards until your back was flat against the refrigerator. His warm hands grabbed for yours and he pinned them above your head by your wrists.

Okay. This, was something you were used to. But there was nothing that could have prepared you for when Roger's hands loosened their grip on your wrists, and he was lacing his fingers between your own.

Your hands felt very small in Roger's. How had he never noticed that before? What else had he neglected to realize about you?

In that moment, he felt you pull away to breathe, and he looked down at you worriedly, fingers frozen, yet still laced with yours.

"I- uh... I-I'm sorry--"

"No no, don't be. It's okay," your response was very rushed, but you didn't skip a word.

There was about a minute of silence, your hot breaths mingling in the space between your lips, though your gazes were locked with one another, and you couldn't look away.

"Did-uh... did you want me to... to stop?" His question was gentle, almost sincere-sounding, but he still made no effort to move from his place.

"No. God, no." And as soon as you'd answered, Roger closed the space between the both of you again, his fingers unwound from yours to grab you by the jaw, and you just held his waist, pushing your body as close to him as he would let you.

He shifted around a little, and moved his leg between yours. You could feel his mouth bend into a smirk against yours, and he began to apply pressure to the apex of your legs with his knee.

Before long, as much as you wanted to resist it, you fell to Roger's submission, and as you waited for him to grab your waist and put you wherever, he hesitated for a second, and dropped his hands from yours.

You opened your eyes again to find Roger, face red, and staring at your chest. Not in an ogling way, but more of a method to avoid looking you in the eye.

He could tell you were looking at him, and he shifted his gaze to you. He itched at his hands awkwardly, mouth opening and closing as he tried to explain himself.

You just waited. You gave him time to think, and he had an answer for you sooner than either of you would have thought.

"I just... I wanna try something else. I don’t want to control you like I do every night."

It wasn't much of an explanation, but a good beginning to a demonstration.

"Will you come to bed with me, Y/n?" His offer was gentle, yet confident, despite offering a hand out hesitantly.

When you dropped your hand into his, all of the tension in Roger's being relaxed, and he quietly led you up the stairs, past the nursery, and into John and Veronica's room.

Before you could say anything he gently explained that he'd do laundry later, and then he pulled you in for another kiss he'd been waiting to give you since the last one.

Roger pulled you closer to him, hands cupping your face as his lips began to desperately chase after yours. You kissed Roger back with just as much vigor, but then he slowed the movements of his mouth, and guided you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Roger helped lower you down onto the bed, and he leaned over you, dipping down to kiss your lips again. He knelt between your legs, and pulled them up around his waist so he could lean in even closer.

You felt his hands squeeze your hips, and he pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth. You hummed lowly, your eyelashes kissing your cheeks as Roger pulled away ever so slightly-- just enough to pull his shirt off of him, and close the distance between your bodies again.

You tangled your hands into his hair, and he hummed in approval before pulling back just once more.

"I'm sure that's hardly fair..."

"What?"

"This," Roger tugged gently at the hem of your shirt.

"Why's yours still on?"

"... I never said it had to be."

Roger exhaled, and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head after you raised your arms to help him out a little.

He placed the palm of his hand over the smooth skin of your belly as he stared at your bare torso. And before long, he dipping down to kiss you again.

You reciprocated his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck and tightening your legs around his hips, to which he rocked himself against your core, and then---

Bam!

The headboard hit the wall, and Bobby woke up.

"Nooo..." you squeezed your eyes shut as the baby's cries began to reverberate down the hallway.

"Fuck!" Roger groaned, eyebrows knitted together helplessly as he climbed off of you. You both knew it was Roger who technically woke the baby up, and it was just silently agreed on that he went to put him back down.

"Dammit to hell, those separated headboards."

Roger opened the nursery door, and made his way to the crib in the corner of the room. Bobby's cheeks were wet with tears, and Roger's heart sank. "'M sorry, little guy. C'mere. Come see uncle Roger."

He picked the baby up and rocked him back and forth, though it wasn't exactly doing much, so Roger took a seat in the rocking chair on the opposite side of the room, swaying the both of them with a push of his feet.

Bobby's cries settled, and Roger felt proud of himself. Sure, he wanted to get back to what he was doing before, but instead he took his time in making sure Bobby was comfortable and not in need of anything before he drifted off to sleep again.

Bobby played around with Roger's fingers a few moments after his agitation ceased, and he couldn't believe how large his hands were in comparison to Bobby's. He was once that size.

A little while later Roger set Bobby down in his crib, and the infant was out. The drummer smiled at his accomplishment. He didn't even need your help.

With that, he left the room without a sound.

He stepped into John and Veronica's room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He was in the middle of turning on his heel when he stopped dead in his tracks.

You'd taken some of the pillows off the bed and wedged them between the wall and the headboard to keep the bed from making noise.

You were also splayed out on the bed in a lot less clothing than he remembered you in when he left.

With a teasing beckon from your finger, Roger knew three things were for certain.

1. You were the smartest woman he knew.

2. You were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

3. He, the Roger Taylor, had fallen madly, and helplessly in love with you.

-------------------------------------

A/A/N: Again, you’ve all been waiting long enough for the next chapter, so here you are. i hope you all enjoy, and if my response is great with this one, I’ll see if I can spit out another one soon <3

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PAIRING: josh washington x fem!reader WARNINGS: the prank, no use of y/n GENRE: ANGST. SONG INSPIRATION: youth by daughter WORD COUNT: 9.1k REQUESTED: yes NOTE: who's ready to cry?

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no one truly understood how much his sister's disappearance had shattered him.

they tried to be there for him, to console him in those rare moments when he couldn’t mask the pain that cut him so deeply. 

they wanted to help, but no amount of support could bridge the pain left behind.

but you, you didn’t need to see the cracks to understand how broken he was. 

you were the only one he ever truly let in.

his brokenness became yours. the faraway look in his eyes, the way he’d drift off into silence, the dark circles that painted the story of sleepless nights. it all tore at you. he needed you more than ever, and in truth, you needed him just as much.

you started showing up at his place late at night, no matter the hour. just to hold him. to check on him. to sit beside him when the silence became unbearable.

there were no words that could mend what he had lost, no comfort you could offer to fix the pieces of his shattered heart. and yet, your presence was enough. he never said it out loud, but you saw it in the way his breathing slowed, the way he relaxed when you were near. 

you made it a little easier for him to sleep, to eat, to simply exist.

you’d do anything for him, and you had proven that countless times.

so when he brought up the idea of going back to the lodge a year after his sister’s disappearance, your heart sank. you knew it would be agonising for him, and the thought of reliving those memories made you hesitate. 

but when he asked you to come along, because you hadn’t been able to go the prior year, you couldn’t refuse.

you’d never let him face something like this alone.

you were the first ones to arrive at the lodge, the mountain air crisp as you stepped out of the car and took in the familiar, yet bittersweet surroundings. once you stepped in front of the lodge josh grabbed your bags before you could protest, flashing you a small, tired smile as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“i’ve got these,” he murmured, his eyes flickering with a warmth that hadn’t been there in a long time. then he headed up the stairs, leaving you alone in the spacious but eerily quiet cabin.

you took a moment, inhaling deeply, letting the nostalgia and tension settle in your bones. with a contented sigh, you stretched your arms out and decided to get to work. the place needed a little life breathed back into it. 

you started in the living room, uncovering the dust covered furniture. the old couch creaked as you lifted the heavy cloth, revealing its worn, familiar fabric. you busied yourself with small tasks: arranging the cushions, stacking wood, and kindling the fireplace until the room started to glow with a warm, flickering light. 

it felt good, in a way. a distraction, a chance to bring some comfort back into this space that had held so much grief.

but after a while, you realised you hadn’t seen josh. it wasn’t like him to disappear without a word, so you set down the last piece of kindling and wiped your hands on your jeans, calling out as you made your way to the bedroom.

“baby?” you called, peeking inside. the room was empty, the bags still packed, and there was no sign of him in the ensuite bathroom either.

frowning slightly, you turned back and started wandering the halls, your footsteps light on the wooden floors as you searched for him. just as you rounded the corner towards the front door, it flew open with a loud thud.

you jumped, letting out a squeal as your hand flew to your chest. there was josh, grinning looking extremely proud of himself, his laughter filling the cabin.

“oh my god, you scared me!” you gasped, half-laughing, half-annoyed as he stepped closer and pulled you into his arms.

“sorry, sorry!” he chuckled, his voice softer now, brushing a kiss against your temple. “couldn’t resist. you should’ve seen your face.”

you playfully slapped his chest, but the sound of his laughter, genuine and unburdened, was something you hadn’t heard in what felt like forever. it melted away any irritation you felt, leaving behind a warmth that spread through your chest.

“you’re terrible,” you muttered, smiling despite yourself.

“yeah, but you love me,” he teased, his smile faltering just a bit as he looked at you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. for a moment, the playfulness faded, replaced by something deeper, more vulnerable.

“i do,” you whispered, your hand sliding up to rest over his heart. you felt the steady beat beneath your palm, a silent promise that you were here, together, no matter what memories this place held.

josh’s eyes softened, he pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. 

“thank you for coming,” he murmured. “i know it’s not easy. being here.”

you squeezed him tighter. “you don’t have to thank me. i’d follow you anywhere, you know that.”

he nodded, his grip tightening around you before he pulled back, a lighter smile on his face now. “c’mon, let’s finish setting up before the others get here. i want it to feel...normal. at least for a little while.”

it didn’t take long for everyone to show up, the lodge filling with a familiar mix of voices and laughter. the chill from the outside seemed to melt away as your friends settled in, dropping their bags and unwinding in the main room. 

the fire you started was crackling, casting a warm glow over the space. you could feel the tension start to ease, though the air still held an undercurrent of unease.

you made your way over to josh, slipping under his arm. he pulled you closer, his hand rubbing soothing circles against your back. you rested your head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as the others chatted and joked around. for a moment, it almost felt normal.

then the front door swung open with a sharp gust of wind, and in walked emily and matt. emily’s face was set in a familiar look of annoyance, her eyes rolling as she stepped inside. matt followed close behind, his jaw clenched, clearly frustrated. you could sense the tension between them before they even spoke.

“well, look who finally decided to show up,” sam drawled from across the room, leaning against the couch with a smirk. mike's eyes flicked briefly to emily, lingering a moment too long.

emily scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “yeah, well, some of us had to deal with a little drama on the way up here,” she snapped, shooting a glare at matt, who looked like he was biting back a retort.

“drama? what kind of drama?” jessica chimed in, her voice dripping with curiosity and something sharper. she stepped closer to mike, wrapping her arm possessively around his waist. the look she shot emily was a thinly veiled challenge.

“oh, you know, the usual,” emily said with a sarcastic smile. “matt getting all worked up over nothing.”

matt’s face reddened, and he stepped forward. “over nothing? you were practically hanging off mike’s arm, em!”

mike’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the show. “hey, don’t drag me into this, man,” he said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “i can’t help it if people like being around me.”

“oh please,” jessica interjected, rolling her eyes. “it’s not like she hasn’t moved on, right, em? or maybe you just can’t let go of the fact that i’m with him now.”

emily’s eyes narrowed, her voice icy. “oh, trust me, jess, you’re welcome to him. i’ve moved on to bigger and better things.”

“bigger and better?” jessica repeated, her voice rising in pitch. “you think you’re better than me?”

the room went silent, the playful banter tipping quickly into hostility. matt stepped closer, fists clenched at his sides, while mike watched with a smug grin. you felt josh tense beside you, his arm tightening around your shoulders. he had that look in his eyes, like he was trying to decide whether to step in or let the drama play out.

“alright, alright, everyone, let’s just cool it, okay?” josh finally intervened, stepping between them with a broad, disarming smile. “we’re here to have a good time, remember? no need to fight over ancient history. how about you and jess go to the other cabin that i told you about and you let this go?”

he shot a pointed look at mike and then at matt, his tone light but firm. mike shrugged, backing off with a chuckle, while matt reluctantly stepped away, muttering under his breath. emily and jessica exchanged one last glare before turning away from each other, both visibly annoyed but unwilling to push it further.

the hours drifted by slowly as you lay in bed, your head pounding with the dull throb of an oncoming migraine. you closed your eyes, trying to block out the flickering shadows cast by the firelight, wishing for some rest. 

the lodge had fallen into an almost eerie silence. everyone had split off, doing their own thing, giving the place a stillness that felt almost unnatural.

then you heard it. a loud, frantic banging on a door downstairs, followed by a sound that made your blood run cold.

chris’s voice desperate.

“ash! oh my god, ashley!”

you bolted upright, the pain in your head forgotten as adrenaline coursed through your veins. throwing on your shoes, running out of the room and down the stairs, heart pounding in your chest.

you found chris frantically pushing against the kitchen door.

“hey, chris!” you yelled, grabbing his arm, trying to get his attention. “what’s going on? what happened?”

he turned to you, eyes wide and wild, barely able to get the words out. “it’s ashley,” he stammered, his voice breaking. “something– something took her! we were looking for clues and then... i don’t know, it grabbed her! we’ve got to get her out of there, now!”

the sheer panic in his voice left no room for questions. you nodded, bracing yourself and shoving against the door with him, putting every ounce of strength you had into it. the wood groaned under your combined weight, the hinges straining.

with a sudden, violent crack, the door flew open, and the two of you were thrown forward, hitting the carpet hard. you scrambled to your feet, the room dimly lit and filled with shadows. it was hard to see, but as your eyes adjusted, you spotted her.

ashley was sprawled on the floor, unconscious, her body limp and unmoving.

“oh my god, ashley!” you gasped, rushing to her side. you knelt down, hands shaking as you checked her pulse. relief flooded through you when you felt it. faint, but steady. she was breathing.

you turned back to chris, ready to tell him she was okay, but the words died in your throat as a shadow moved behind him. before you could shout a warning, a masked figure stepped out of the darkness and swung a fist, landing a brutal punch squarely across chris’s face.

“chris!” you screamed as he crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

instinct took over. you had no time to think, only react. you sprinted to the kitchen, grabbing the first thing you could find, a small knife. it wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

you held the knife out in front of you, your hands trembling as you backed towards them, trying to protect her and chris. 

“stay back!” you shouted, your voice cracking with fear. “i swear i’ll use this!”

but before you could make another move, you felt it. a strong arm snaking around your waist, yanking you back against his chest. the sudden pressure of a cloth was pressed over your mouth and nose, the sickly sweet smell of chloroform invading your senses.

you thrashed wildly, kicking and clawing, refusing to go down without a fight. the knife was still in your hand, and you swung it blindly behind you. you felt the blade connect, slicing into flesh, and a distorted scream of pain ripped through the air. the grip on you loosened for a moment, using the last of your strength to try and break free.

but it was too late. the world around you started to blur, the room spinning as your vision darkened. your body went limp as the chloroform took hold, the knife slipping from your fingers.

the last thing you heard before you blacked out was the masked figure’s laboured, angry breathing and the sound of ashley’s soft, uneven breaths, still unconscious on the floor beside you.

that's when everything went dark.

you stirred awake, groaning as the pounding in your head reminded you of the events before you blacked out. 

beside you, chris let out a low grunt, shifting as he groggily sat up. the air was cold and heavy, the lights still off, and nothing around you seemed to have changed.

but as you blinked, clearing the haze from your vision, unease curled in your gut. something was different.

ashley was gone.

“shit,” you muttered, your voice breaking the silence. panic surged through you as you scrambled to your feet. turning to chris, you shook his shoulder, forcing him to focus. “chris. ashley’s gone.”

chris blinked hard, his face paling as realisation dawned. “what? where– what the hell happened?”

you didn’t answer, instead yanking him to his feet. “we’ve got to find her. she can’t be far.”

switching on the flashlight of your phone, you searched your surroundings. the beam caught every shadow, every corner, as you searched for any sign of where she might have gone. 

finally, your light hit something, a purse lying on the ground.

“it’s hers,” you said under your breath, crouching down to pick it up. it wasn’t much, but it was something. you clutched it tightly as you moved around the house toward the front door.

the door creaked as you pushed it open, the cold night air cutting through you. but what you saw next made your stomach twist into knots.

blood.

it smeared the wall outside the door in messy streaks, glistening faintly under the pale moonlight.

“holy shit,” chris whispered, his voice shaking as he stepped closer. “is that–?”

you didn’t let him finish. your flashlight followed the trail of blood, which led away from the house, cutting through the snow.

“we have to follow it,” you said, barely able to keep the fear out of your voice.

chris nodded, sticking close to you as you both ventured into the freezing darkness. each step crunched beneath your boots, the sound unnervingly loud against the eerie silence of the night. 

the blood left a faint trail to the shed in the backyard.

it was there that you heard it. a voice, cracked and trembling, carried by the wind.

“chris!”

ashley.

her sobs were unmistakable. exchanging a panicked glance with chris, both of you breaking into a run.

you burst into the shed, your flashlight sweeping over the scene inside. the sight made your blood run cold.

ashley hands tied above her to a wooden board, tears streaming down her face as she struggled against the ropes holding her in place. 

she wasn’t alone.

beside her was josh, also bound, his wide eyes locking onto you the moment you entered.

“oh my god,” you breathed.

“help me! please, help!” his voice cracked.

ashley was sobbing harder now, her pleas barely coherent as she begged for you and chris to save them.

their cries grew louder, filling the small shed with tension, until they didn’t.

the sound of a voice, deep and distorted, crackled through hidden speakers, silencing them both.

“hello, and thank you all for joining me..”

the voice was chillingly calm, it’s tone laced with malice. it was the one you’d heard before you passed out. 

you and chris froze, every muscle in your body tense as the words echoed around you.

your flashlight flickered slightly. josh’s voice cut through the deafening silence, quieter this time, trembling with nothing but anguish.

“please,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours, wide and glistening with unshed tears. 

“don’t let whoever it is hurt us.”

before you could respond, the crackling static of the speakers filled the shed once again, followed by the same deep, sinister voice.

“tonight, we’re going to conduct a little experiment.”

“what the fuck is going on?” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

the voice continued, unfazed by the panic rising in the room.

“for this experiment, we’ll need the cooperation of two of our test subjects… joshua and ashley.”

“what?” ashley’s voice broke into a sharp shout, her cries mixed with a choked sob.

josh froze, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his panic evident even as he tried to keep himself from breaking completely.

“oh my god,” you whispered, dread settling deep in your chest.

“but,” the voice drawled, almost casually, “we’re going to need one more brave participant to help decide… which subject will live, and which will die.”

“no,” you gasped, your voice cracking as the weight of the words slammed into you. tears burned in your eyes, now spilling over as you covered your mouth with your hand. “no, no, no!”

ashley’s screams became louder. “this can’t be real! this can’t be happening!”

josh pulled against his restraints again, pleading. “don’t listen to him! please, get us out of here!”

their cries overlapped, filling the room with desperate pleas and frantic sobs. you couldn’t breathe; the room felt like it was closing in, the walls pressing tighter and tighter around you.

chris stood frozen beside you, his face pale, his hands trembling.

“please, please,” the voice interrupted smoothly, it’s calm tone a stark contrast to the chaos you all shared. 

“everyone calm down. it’s all very simple.”

simple?

“you will find a lever placed directly in front of you. all you have to do… is choose who you will save.”

your head snapped toward the lever.

“what the fuck? they can’t be serious!” your sadness morphed into something hot and volatile. rage bubbling beneath your skin as you stormed toward the door between you and them.

“no!” you growled, slamming your hands against the handle. “this isn’t happening! this can’t be happening!”

you pushed, pulled, slammed your shoulder into the door, anything to force it open. the wood creaked under your assault, but it held firm.

the sound of metal grinding against metal filled the air, sharp and shrill. the saw had started.

the noise sent a chill down your spine, you pulled harder on the door handle, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“oh no,” ashley sobbed, her voice rising in pitch. “please, this can’t be happening! this isn’t right!”

the saw’s steady whirring was like a countdown, each second ticking closer to an unthinkable end.

josh’s voice broke through the noise, full of pure terror. “don’t do this! please, you don’t have to do this!”

ashley’s cries grew louder, more frantic. “save me! please, oh my god, i can’t die!”

you could feel your sanity slipping as you turned back to face the room. the lever stood there, mocking you, as if daring you. chris was pacing now, running his hands through his hair, his movements jerky and panicked.

“w-what do we do?” he stammered, his voice cracking as he looked to you for answers you didn’t have.

the saw’s hum grew louder, as the reality of the situation bore down on you. time was running out, and you were trapped in a nightmare with no way out.

the grinding sound of the saw grew louder. your hands trembled as you clutched the door handle, pulling with everything you had, screaming for it to give way.

"come on!" you cried, voice breaking as hot tears streamed down your cheeks. "come on, you son of a bitch, open!"

but it was no use. the door wouldn’t budge.

behind you, the pleas grew more frantic, more agonised. ashley was sobbing uncontrollably, her words tumbling over each other as she begged for her life. josh was screaming now, his voice hoarse and cracking, calling your name, calling chris’s, calling anyone who might listen.

“please!” josh shouted, his eyes wild and terrified as they locked on yours. “you can't let me die!”

your vision blurred as you turned your back to them, the image of josh tied up, eyes red, face swollen burned into your mind. the person who made you laugh when no one else could. the one who saw you when you felt invisible. the one you loved more than anything.

"chris," you sobbed, clutching at his arm. "we can’t do this! we have to find another way!"

but chris wasn’t looking at you. he wasn’t looking at anything but the lever.

he was trembling, his eyes darting between josh and ashley, both of them screaming, both of them begging, their voices a mix of anguish and fear.

"chris!" you yelled, shaking him hard. "don’t! we’ll figure something out! just–just don’t!"

his breathing was shallow, his face pale and wet with tears. “i– i don’t know what to do,” he choked out, his voice broken. “i can’t–, i can’t–”

but even as he said it, his hand was moving. slowly, shakily, he reached for the lever.

"no!" you screamed, lunging for him, grabbing at his arm. "chris, don’t!"

it was too late.

with a guttural cry, chris yanked the lever.

time slowed to a crawl, the world around you dissolving into a haze of sound and motion. the saw roared to life, screaming as it moved toward it’s victim.

“no!” you shrieked, your voice tore through the air as you clung helplessly on the gated wall for josh.

his wide, terrified eyes met yours, full of pain and betrayal. “no, no, no! please!” he screamed, struggling against the restraints with everything he had.

and then the saw reached him.

the sound was sickening, the kind that burrowed into your ears and stayed there, haunting. blood sprayed across the room, splattering the walls, the floor, and even you as you stood frozen, paralyzed by the horror before you.

josh’s screams cut off abruptly, his body going limp as the saw finished it's grim work.

the room fell deathly silent, except for the faint hum of the machinery winding down.

the door clicked, the lock releasing with an almost casual sound. it swung open.

chris stumbled forward, rushing to ashley’s side. she was sobbing uncontrollably as he worked to untie her. “it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice shaking. “you’re okay. i’ve got you. don’t look.”

but you didn’t move.

you couldn’t.

your knees buckled, and you crumpled to the floor, your body wracked with silent sobs. 

josh. your josh, was gone. the one person who mattered most to you, the only source of true comfort that you had, was gone.

your eyes stayed fixed on the blood-soaked floor, on the mangled remains of the person you loved.

he was gone.

cut in half.

gone.

you hugged yourself tightly, rocking back and forth as grief consumed you, an unbearable weight that left you hollow and broken.

chris turned to you, his face pale and etched with guilt. he opened his mouth, but whatever words he tried to speak were drowned out by the sound of your own sobs, tearing through into the cold, unforgiving night. 

it echoed around you, a resonance that mocked the void where he used to be.

you could still hear him, josh's voice screaming for you in those final moments. still feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear when you used to lie close to him. it was nothing but a ghost now. a cruel reminder of what was gone. he wasn’t there anymore. he would never be there again.

your thoughts spiralled. chris. it was all chris's fault. he had made the choice. not josh. chris. he chose ashley. he chose her over him. his crush over his childhood best friend, your love, your person. the realisation hit.

before you knew it, you were moving, your grief boiling over into something darker. you snapped to your feet, crossing the space between you and chris in an instant. your trembling hands hit his chest, his shoulders. whatever you could reach, your fists weak but desperate.

“why?” you choked out, your voice breaking as you struck him again. and again. “why? we could’ve found another way! how could you do this? how could you do this to me?”

chris didn’t stop you. he stood there, letting you vent your anguish, his own tears carving silent trails down his face. he didn’t try to defend himself, didn’t make excuses. ashley stood nearby, distraught and useless, her sobs muffled behind her hands as she watched the scene unfold.

your blows slowed, turning into open palms pressed against him, you collapsed against his chest. the grief overtook you, the strength to hold it all inside shattered. you cried into him, the rawness of your pain spilling out in broken gasps and incoherent words.

for a moment, chris tried to hold you. his arms moved hesitantly, afraid to make things worse. but the second you felt him, your anger surged again, and you ripped yourself away. “don’t touch me,” you hissed, your voice shaking. you stumbled back, wiping at your face, dragging air into your lungs that felt too thin.

you couldn’t stay here. not in this place. not with these people who used to be your friends. you turned away from them and staggered outside into the night. the cold air bit into your skin, but it didn’t matter. nothing mattered anymore. not without him.

the lodge loomed behind you like a reminder of everything you’d once loved. 

deep down, you knew it didn’t matter who had been chosen. losing either of them would have been devastating, a blow from which you would never truly recover. but that logic was lost in the haze of your grief. it didn’t matter that the decision had been impossible. all you knew, all you could feel, was that chris had made it.

he had chosen not to save josh.

you stumbled a few steps further, every breath was agony. the grief, the disbelief, the rage. it all swirled inside you, drowning you in it’s weight.

it felt as though someone had reached into your chest and ripped out your heart, leaving you to feel nothing but also everything at the same time. you stared at the distant treetops, the stars blurred by tears, and tried to feel something other than the nothingness threatening to consume you. 

your chest heaved as you bent forward, hands braced on your knees, gasping for air that seemed almost impossible to catch. the night’s chill clawed at your skin, but it did nothing to numb what burned inside you.

the crunch of footsteps on snow made you look up, your tear blurred vision settling on emily and matt as they approached cautiously. their faces twisted with confusion and fear as they took in the sight of the three of you. shaking, pale, and splattered with blood.

emily was the first to speak, "what happened?" her voice was sharp but laced with unease. matt hovered beside her, his wide eyes darting between you, the blood, and sounds of the sobs that you shared.

you straightened slowly, forcing yourself to meet their stares. your voice trembled as you tried to speak, every word catching in your throat like broken glass.

“it’s josh,” you rasped. “he… he’s gone.”

emily’s lips parted in disbelief, she faltered as she tried to process the words. matt stiffened, his jaw clenching as his hands balled into fists at his sides.

“what do you mean, gone?” emily asked, her voice wobbling. her eyes darted between you and the shed, expecting josh to emerge at any moment, laughing this off as a cruel joke.

you opened your mouth, but the words refused to come. instead, fragments of the moment flashed in your mind. the split second choice, the screams, the sound of your own heart breaking. you winced, flinching at the memory, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“chris… he had to choose,” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible over the wind. “it was him or ashley.”

the weight of the admission crushed you all over again, and for a moment, the only sound was the muffled sniffling from you and the distant howl of the wind. emily stared at you, her face draining of colour, while matt swore under his breath and looked away.

“that doesn’t make any sense,” emily whispered, her tone brittle. “how could something like that even happen? why–why was there a choice at all?”

her words struck a nerve, but you didn’t have the strength to argue. you couldn’t. the truth of it was unbearable, but it was all you had.

“i didn’t… i didn’t even get to say goodbye,” you choked out, your voice breaking. tears welled up again, blurring your vision. you turned away, clutching your arms tightly, trying to breathe through the pain.

you hear them talking. quietly at first, but the words soon cut through the air. they’re discussing the psycho on the mountain, piecing together what had happened. the conversation ends with emily and matt deciding to head to the fire tower to try and contact someone on the radio, and chris suggests you and ashley go with him to find sam, still hopefully holed up in the lodge.

you say nothing. you just follow them, keeping your distance but staying close enough to hear the whispers. the words between them are too loud for their own good, a mix of fear and regret, constantly circling back to josh.

ashley’s voice cracks as she speaks to him, her apologies tumbling over each other. “i know how close you were to him,” she says, her voice low. “i– i just... i never meant–”

she stops herself. the realisation hits her. she turns to you, eyes wide with guilt, as if suddenly aware of the weight of her words.

her face is full of remorse, her lips parting to offer an apology, but you can already feel the anger bubbling up inside you.

you clench your jaw, your fists tightening at your sides. she doesn’t get it.

“don’t. you don’t get to talk about him,” you bite out, the words sharp. “you don’t get to. not after what happened.”

the air between you is heavy with tension. ashley opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. she knows. she knows there’s no fixing this. you didn’t want her to. how could she?

you charge upstairs, your legs trembling with every step, but the adrenaline doesn’t let you stop. it fuels you, because you can’t stop. not now. not with sam missing. not with everything spiraling further and further out of control. 

you don’t even bother hiding the tears streaming down your face anymore. you just need to find her and get out of this godforsaken place. this needs to end.

you’re done with the fear. you want to go home, to a place where things made sense. you want to feel safe again, slip into your bed where his scent still lingers, and just… cry. to finally feel the pain and let it break you. 

the hallway stretches out before you, quiet and eerie, the air heavy with the silence that feels so much worse than any scream. your breathing is ragged as you throw open door after door. 

"sam!" you call, but there’s no answer. just empty rooms. no sign of her. each door you open makes your stomach twist tighter with dread, like a rope being pulled too taut.

you jog back down stairs, walking to the entrance of a room you haven't checked yet.

the movie room is where it all comes crashing down. her bracelet. you spot it immediately on the floor, lying there as if it’s mocking you. you freeze, staring at it. she never takes it off. never. your heart drops, she was here. and she’s not anymore.

you stumble forward, picking it up with shaking hands. it’s so small in your palm, so simple, but it’s hers. it’s hers, and it’s the only sign of her that you’ve found. and then you see it. the video.

it’s looping on the projector, a grotesque, grainy replay of josh’s death. over and over. the sound of his screams fills the room, echoing in your ears, drowning out your own sobs. chris is already on it, slamming his fist into the projector, but it’s no use. the damn thing won’t stop playing. he kicks it, hard enough to send it skidding across the room, but it keeps playing.

you double over, clutching your stomach as if it’ll stop the nausea rising in your throat. it’s too much. all of it. the weight of what you’ve lost, the guilt, the fear, it’s suffocating. the bracelet in your hand feels like a cruel reminder that sam could be next. or maybe she already is. and what the hell can you do about it?

“we have to keep moving,” chris says. you know he’s right, even if you can’t bring yourself to say it. you wipe your face with the back of your sleeve and force your legs to move, one step at a time, until you’re following him down to the basement.

the air is colder down here, and not just in temperature. it feels… wrong. like something is watching. waiting. ashley’s hand brushes yours at one point, a trembling, silent plea for some kind of comfort, and you squeeze it instinctively. you don’t say anything, though. what is there to say?

then, it appears. the ghost. at first, it’s just a pale blur in the corner of your eye, but then it comes again. clearer this time. the faint outline of a figure, there and then gone before your brain can catch up.

ashley screams, stumbling back into chris, who immediately snaps into denial. “there’s no way–” he starts, but then it happens again, and the words die in his throat.

your pulse is nothing but a hammer in your chest. you can’t even feel your hands anymore; they’re ice, like the rest of you. you scan the room, every dark corner, every shadow, but it’s the dollhouse that pulls your attention. it sits there, perfectly positioned, it’s tiny rooms lit by some unseen source. 

the dolls inside. each one carefully placed, are positioned just like that night. like the prank. like what happened to hannah.

you couldn't even touch it at first. your fingers hover over the tiny furniture, shaking too much to do anything else. you open it and you see her diary.

the pages are worn, the ink smudged in places like she’d cried over it while writing. you skim the entries, your chest tightening with each one. her excitement about mike. her insecurities. the little hopes she’d held onto, even when things were rough. you can see her in the words, hear her voice, and it breaks you all over again.

she trusted you. she trusted all of you. and what happened? she was pushed too far, and now she’s gone. her warmth, her kindness, her life, gone. 

the tears come harder now, but you don’t stop reading. you owe her this.

you don’t realise how long you’ve been standing there until chris nudges your shoulder. “hey,” he says, softly this time. “we… we should go.”

the basement hallway stretches out further than you thought it would, the shadows growing deeper with each step. then you see it. a figure. sam’s clothes, and for one awful, heart stopping moment, you think it’s her. you freeze, the air ripped from your lungs, until chris steps closer and pulls the chair into the light. it’s not her.

relief floods through you, but it’s short lived. she’s still missing, and the nightmare is still far from over. you glance at ashley, whose eyes are wide with panic, and then at chris.

chris looks just as distraught as you, his face pale, his hands trembling as he struggles to stay composed. you want to say something, anything, but the words won’t come. that’s when you notice it. a shadow shifts behind him, barely noticeable at first. it moves closer, and your heart leaps into your throat.

your mouth opens to scream, to warn him, but it’s too late. a figure lunges out of the darkness, fist connecting with chris’s face in a brutal, sickening thud. his head snaps to the side, he crumples to the floor, out cold.

“chris!” you gasp, but there’s no time to check if he’s okay. the flashlight he was holding clatters to the floor, spinning wildly before it’s beam settles on the attacker. he turns toward you and ashley, his movements deliberate, methodical.

ashley is quicker than you expect. before you can react, she rushes forward, gripping the scissors. she drives them into his shoulder with a desperate cry, the blade sinking in deep. the attacker stumbles back, a low, pained grunt escaping him, but it’s not enough to stop him.

he moves with startling speed, grabbing ashley by the wrist. she struggles, kicking and thrashing, but his free hand rises, before she can break free, his fist connects with her face in a brutal blow. the impact sends her crumpling to the floor in a heap on the floor, her body still.

“no!” the word tears from your throat. helpless, as the reality sets in. you’re on your own, and your only weapon is still lodged in his shoulder.

you turn to run, your legs screaming at you to move, before you can take more than a step, something sharp pierces your neck. it’s small, almost subtle, but the effect is immediate. your hand flies to the spot, fingers trembling as they brush against the tiny dart embedded in your skin.

a whine escapes your lips as your knees buckle. the world tilts violently, the edges of your vision blurring. panic claws at your chest as you try to stay upright, your body refuses to listen. your legs give out completely, you fall, the ground rushing up to meet you.

before you hit the floor, strong arms catch you, pulling you against a broad chest. you’re too weak to fight, your limbs heavy and useless.

“i’m sorry,” a voice murmurs, low and distorted, the words muffled by the mask obscuring his face. “i’m so sorry.”

you try to focus, to make sense of what’s happening, the world is fading fast. the last thing you see before the darkness takes you is the mask staring back at you, it’s blank, soulless eyes the final image burned into your mind.

you wake slowly, your eyelids feel weighted, your thoughts sluggish and out of sync. something isn’t right. your instincts scream it before your senses can confirm. when your eyes finally flutter open, the world above you sharpens into focus. two massive saw blades hang ominously overhead, their jagged teeth gleaming under harsh fluorescent lights.

it’s the next sensation that sends a chill crawling up your spine, your wrists. they’re bound tightly, the rough rope digging into your skin with every small movement. you yank at them, testing the restraint, but it holds firm, the fibres biting deeper.

panic sparks, your breath becoming faster as you look around, desperate to understand where you are, what’s happening. the room is cold and industrial, its concrete walls bare except for the shadows cast by flickering lights. your gaze snaps to the figure directly in front of you, chris.

he’s slumped in a chair, his head hanging slightly, his face pale and tight with fear. one of his hands is bound to the armrest, but his other arm hangs free. between you, perched cruelly sits a gun.

your chest tightens as you try to move your legs, only to realise they’re tied too. the ropes around your ankles bite just as viciously as the ones on your wrists. you twist and pull, but your body feels sluggish. the injection, that stranger. you’re still under it’s influence, your limbs betraying your desperation to escape.

“chris?” your voice is hoarse, trembling, thick with fear. “what’s going on? where are we?”

he lifts his head slightly, meeting your eyes with a look that chills you to your core. his face is a mix of confusion and terror, his lips parting to speak. “i don’t know.”

your mind reels, memories flooding in, the shed, the others, the horrific choices. 

the weight of what’s coming feels unbearable.

“we’ve gotta get out of here,” you whisper, your voice trembling, barely audible over the relentless pounding of your heartbeat.

that’s when you hear it. the saws.

the metallic whine cuts through the air as the blades begin to descend, slow but deliberate. the sound, growing louder with each passing second. your head snaps upward, and the sight of the spinning teeth edging closer sends a fresh wave of panic through you.

“no!” you scream, thrashing against the restraints, your wrists burning as the ropes cut deeper into your skin. the effort is frantic, wild, but useless. the ropes don’t budge. you feel like you’re suffocating, the walls of the room closing in.

and then they stop.

the saws are still whirring, still spinning inches above your head, but their descent halts. the silence that follows is almost worse than the noise. 

that’s when you hear it.

that voice again.

“hello there, my special little subjects.”

your stomach twists as the sound crawls over your skin. chris freezes across from you, his head snapping up toward the speakers embedded in the walls.

“aw, shit,” he mutters, his free hand darting for the gun on the table between you. he grips it tightly, holding it up defensively as though the steel in his hands could somehow protect you both from the nightmare unfolding around you.

the voice continues.

“chris has made one fatal choice already today, and now he must make another.”

you and chris lock eyes, the horror in his matching your own. your breaths come faster, you shake your head desperately, trying to deny the inevitable.

the voice pauses, as if savoring the moment, before delivering the final blow.

“chris, you can take the gun in front of you and shoot her, or you can shoot yourself. whoever is left gets to live. the choice is yours.”

your stomach churns, your chest tightening so much it hurts.

“no,” you whisper, shaking your head, your voice trembling. “no, this can’t–this can’t be real.”

chris’s hand shakes as he lifts the gun, his knuckles white around the handle. his gaze flickers to the saws above you, still spinning mercilessly, then to you, and then back to the gun.

“don’t look at me like that,” he says, his voice barely steady. “there’s gotta be a way out. this… this doesn’t make sense.”

he turns the gun toward the machinery and fires. the deafening crack of the shot echoes in the room, but it does nothing. the saws keep spinning. the gun’s recoil jerks his arm, and he mutters a curse under his breath, lowering it slightly as the futility of the situation sinks in.

“no, no, no,” you mutter, panic clawing at your chest. you thrash against the restraints again, harder this time, your vision blurring with tears.

“chris,” you rasp, your voice breaking. “you have to do it.”

“what?” his head snaps toward you, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“shoot me.” the words come out stronger than you expected, but the tremor in your voice betrays your fear. “you have to. you can’t–” your voice falters, and you swallow hard before continuing. “you can’t kill yourself. you have ashley. you can live. you can make it out of this. i–i can’t.”

“what the hell are you talking about?” chris’s voice rises, desperation thick in every syllable. 

“i’m not doing that! we’ll figure something out– together.”

“there’s nothing to figure out!” you cry, your voice raw. tears spill down your cheeks, but you keep going, words tumbling out in a frantic rush. “chris, i can’t live without josh. don’t you get it? i’m already gone. he was everything to me, and now he’s dead. i don’t have anyone to go back to. but you– you have ashley. she loves you. you can still have a life.”

chris shakes his head violently, his grip on the gun trembling. “no. don’t– don’t say that. don’t you dare say that. you think this is what i want? to kill you? how the hell am i supposed to live with that?”

“by being alive!” you scream, your voice cracking. “chris, please. i can’t– i can’t do this anymore. just end it. end it for me. you don’t deserve to die here. not for me. not like this.”

tears streak his face now, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. the gun in his hand wavers, the barrel swinging between you and himself.

“i can’t,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “i can’t do it.”

“you have to,” you plead, your voice softer now, almost broken. “please, chris. you have to make it out of here. you have to live. for ashley. for yourself. for me, don’t let this place take you too.”

the saws above you screech, jolting both of you. the voice returns, colder now, more impatient.

“time is running out, chris. make your decision.”

chris’s face crumples as he stares at you, the weight of the choice pressing down on him. his hand tightens around the gun, shaking harder now.

you hold his gaze, tears streaming down your face. “it’s okay,” you whisper, your voice trembling but resolute. “it’s okay. just do it. i’m ready.”

the gun rises.

the room feels impossibly still, the only sound the relentless whir of the saws above. your chest heaves with shallow breaths as you close your eyes, waiting for the end.

BANG.

the sound reverberates through the room, deafening and final. you jolt, your body stiffening in anticipation of pain, but... nothing. you’re still here. alive. untouched.

your chest heaves as you slowly open your eyes, your breath caught in your throat. chris is staring at you, his face pale and drawn, his expression one of shock and bewilderment. he’s just as confused as you are.

the saws above you screech to a halt, the room plunging into a sudden, eerie silence.

you blink, trying to process what just happened. “chris?” you whisper, your voice trembling.

before he can answer, the overhead lights blaze to life, harsh and unforgiving. the sudden brightness makes you wince, and when your eyes adjust, you see him.

the psycho.

he steps out of the shadows, his mask gleaming under the fluorescent lights. he moves with a slow, deliberate confidence, as though savoring your fear. your heart pounds wildly in your chest, the sight of him terrifying you.

“no,” you stammer, your voice rising in panic. “no, no, no! get away from us!”

chris, snapping out of his stupor, raises the gun without hesitation and fires.

bang!

bang!

bang!

three shots. each one echoes through the room, but the psycho doesn’t even flinch. he doesn’t stumble, doesn’t react. it’s like the bullets didn’t touch him.

“oh, chris...” the voice is mocking now, dripping with condescension. the psycho moves closer, his head tilting as if amused. “oh, chris, chris, chris, chris, chris.”

chris’s grip tightens on the gun, his knuckles white. “what the fuck?!” he shouts, his voice cracking with frustration and fear.

the psycho chuckles, a low, sinister sound that sends chills down your spine. he circles the table slowly.

“you’ve heard of blanks before, haven’t you?” he says, his tone smug and condescending. “i mean, really?”

chris freezes, the gun lowering slightly as the psycho’s words sink in. blanks.

you feel your stomach drop. the tension in the room grows unbearable as the psycho stops beside you, his presence radiating menace. he tilts his head, examining you for a moment before turning his attention back to chris.

“i mean, come on,” he says with a smirk in his voice. “you really thought i’d make it that easy?”

his hands move to the edges of the mask, and your breath catches in your throat. the anticipation is unbearable as he lifts it, slowly revealing his face.

your eyes widen in disbelief, shock and horror flooding through you as the truth clicks into place.

it was him all along.

the sound of the door screeching open echoes through the space, but you can’t bring yourself to look away from him.

your entire body feels like it’s been hollowed out, like every breath has been violently torn from your lungs. your mouth is open, but no words come out, no sound—just the sharp, jagged edges of disbelief slicing through you.

josh.

josh, your josh. the one you saw ripped in half, his blood pooling across the floor in a scene so horrific it seared itself into your memory. the man you mourned, grieved for so deeply it felt like the world might never make sense again.

and yet here he is, standing before you.

“josh?” mike’s voice cuts through the silence, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself of what he’s seeing.

you can’t think, can’t move. it’s like the pieces of reality are crumbling apart and leaving you suspended in this unbearable moment. how is this possible? how is he alive? and more terrifyingly– why?

a tidal wave of emotions crashes over you. confusion, relief, anger, betrayal. all churning into a storm so violent you don’t even know which way is up anymore. your head drops, the tears come, shaking you to your core. but the sobs are silent, strangled by the sheer weight of it all. 

you cry so hard your entire body trembles, the kind of crying that leaves you gasping for air but never getting enough.

sam rushes over, her hands working to untie the ropes binding your wrists. “it’s okay,” she murmurs, though her voice shakes as much as your hands do. “we’ll figure this out. you’re okay. i’ve got you.”

but even as she says it, you can hear her unspoken doubt. she doesn’t understand what’s happening any more than you do.

and then josh laughs.

it starts low, a chuckle that grows louder, sharper, until it fills the room. the sound is manic, cruel, cutting through your grief.

“oh, very good! every one of you! got my name right!” he says, his voice dripping with mockery, arms flung wide as if he’s addressing an audience. “and after everything you’ve been through– wow!”

your stomach twists painfully as his words sink in, each one laced with something venomous. he paces the room, looking at each of you in turn, his grin widening as he feeds off your reactions.

“good, good, good. i mean, how does that feel?” his eyes flick to you, it feels like the winds been knocked out of you. “huh? do you enjoy feeling terrorized? humiliated? panicked?”

his voice rises with every word, his arms flailing dramatically.

“all those emotions my sisters got to feel one year ago! only guess what? they didn’t get to laugh it off! no, no, no! they’re gone!” he stops, his face twisting into something wild and unhinged.

mike steps forward, his expression dark, his body tense. “i don’t know if you’ve noticed, josh, but none of us are laughing.”

chris then speaks up, there’s a venom in his voice you’ve never heard before. “you want to talk about humiliation? about terror?” he jabs a finger in josh’s direction, his voice rising with every word. 

“do you have any idea what you’ve done to her? to all of us? you died, josh. we thought you were dead! she—” he gestures toward you, his voice cracking. “she begged me to shoot her because of what you did! she wanted to die, josh! because of you!”

josh’s manic energy falters, his expression slipping into something more subdued. his mouth opens like he wants to argue, but nothing comes out.

chris steps closer, his face inches from josh’s now. “you think this is justice for your sisters? you think this is what they’d want? or are you just too wrapped up in your own goddamn head to see the difference?”

josh stares at chris, his lips trembling, his confidence visibly cracking.

but you’re not watching them anymore. you’re staring at the ground, your vision blurred by tears. his voice, his face, his laugh. it’s too much. it’s all too much.

“hey,” josh says softly, steps toward you, his voice lacking the bravado it held moments before. 

“hey, it’s okay. i– it’s me. it’s josh. i’m here now.”

you feel his arms around you, warm and familiar, and for a fleeting second, you almost give in. almost let yourself believe that this is the josh you knew, the josh you loved.

but then reality slams into you like a freight train.

“no!” you cry, shoving him away with every ounce of strength you have left. he stumbles back, his face a mask of shock and hurt.

you take a step back, your chest heaving, your voice trembling with betrayal. “how could you do this to me? to us?”

josh’s hands rise defensively, his eyes wide. “i– i didn’t mean–”

“don’t you dare,” you snap, you point at him. “don’t you dare act like this was some accident. you planned this, josh. you planned it, and you knew what it would do to me!”

your voice shatters into a sob as you turn away from him, collapsing into sam’s arms. she catches you, holding you tightly as you bury your face in her shoulder.

“it’s okay,” she whispers, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. her voice is steady, but the anger in her eyes as she glares at josh is unmistakable. “i’ve got you. it’s okay.”

josh takes a step toward you, his hands reaching out. “please, i–”

sam’s glare sharpens, “don’t. you’ve done enough.”

josh stops, his arms falling to his sides. the room is heavy with silence now, the weight of his betrayal suffocating.

and for the first time, you see it on his face, realisation. guilt. maybe even regret.

but it doesn’t matter. nothing he says or does will undo what’s already been done.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ @antihuntress

© ruewrote 2024.

December Night | Lyutsifer Safin x Reader

Masterlist | Part 3 to "Cherry" | Previous Y/N is home alone throughout the festive season, still she finds peace in isolation. This peace is broken when some intruders enter her home with the intention to get information about Lyutsifer; by any means necessary. (WC: 3075)

Warnings: Torture, Blood, Guns, Brief mention of waterboarding, General Violence, Secret cameras, Stalker behaviour

AN: Y/N is missing all the red flags here, sorry

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It was December now, which meant it had been two months since the masquerade. Two months since Y/N had made the biggest mistake of her life and had almost allowed it to go further than what it did.

Now she was sitting alone at her flat, eating a shitty Chinese takeaway as a random Christmas movie played on her TV. She’d just gotten up to grab a glass of wine from her fridge when a knock at the door halted her movements.

She wasn’t expecting anyone and instantly was on guard as a result. After carefully pulling one of her handguns from its hidden compartment, she slowly made her way to the door before swinging it open.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Y/N asked the figure in the doorway with a guarded expression, right hand hidden behind her back with her finger on the trigger.

The strange older man smiled at her, “Forgive me for the late visit, but it’s a matter of great importance. May we come in?”

At his question, her eyes drifted behind him, where she spotted three other men staring at her with a strange, almost intimidating expression. Quickly understanding the situation, Y/N smiled politely and slowly began to close the door. “Sorry, I think you have the wrong place.”

Before she could fully close the door, one of the men behind him stepped forward and forcefully pushed the door open, causing her to stumble backwards into the wall. Raising her gun, she aimed it at them. “Stay back!”

Instead of listening, the three men simply laughed at her before rushing her at once. Y/N fought back as hard as she could, but being outnumbered three to one predictably didn’t work in her favour. Two of them grabbed her by her arms and held her upright as the older man stepped into her flat.

“No, I think we are in exactly the right place,” he spoke slowly before gesturing to the men holding her to carry her to the kitchen. “Tie her to a chair.”

Without question, they pull Y/N down onto one of her kitchen chairs as the third one steps forward and uses zip ties to latch her wrists to the chairs. She let out a hiss when one of the ties began to dig into her skin.

The older man appeared in front of her again, bending down to look her in the eye. “Now, what do you know about Doctor Lyutsifer Safin?”

Without hesitation she replied, “I don’t know anything.”

“This is going to be very painful for you…”

The next two hours for Y/N were a haze of pain and noise. For the first hour she would repeat the same phrase over and over as they continued to hit, cut, and beat her, “I don’t know anything.” It became almost like a mantra for her, but as the torture continued, her mind went numb, and she fell silent.

At one point they grew tired of her silence and decided to pour water over her as her own kitchen towel was placed over her head. She gagged and screamed into the water, but even then she refused to speak.

After the second hour, Y/N finally had a reprieve when they decided to take a break from her torture. The older man had left the kitchen to search her house, followed by two of the men, leaving the third watching her carefully. As they waited for the others to return from their search, there was suddenly another knock on the door.

The silence was broken by a sharp knock at the front door, a sound that echoed through the room. The single remaining man in the kitchen paused, his eyes darting to the door for a moment. After a brief pause, he looked back at Y/N, who was sitting tied to a chair, her expression now one of pain and exhaustion.

"Who could that be?" His voice was rough, a hint of irritation lacing his words.

“Maybe you should do your job and find out.” She replied, her voice from her own screams.

Her ear rang as he harshly smacked her in the face in response, “Watch your fucking mouth, you bitch.”

The sound of the knock at the door echoed through the flat again, this time a little more impatient. The man uttered a small “fuck” before making his way to the door and opening it.

The tension in the room grew as the man began to walk towards the door, clearly irritated by the unexpected guest. He gripped his gun, preparing for whatever or whoever stood on the other side of the door.

He opened the door with a loud creak, revealing an unexpected scene. Standing there was a tall figure in a dark overcoat and black leather gloves, the shadow from the hood of his coat hiding his face.

"What do you want?" the man asked gruffly, his grip on the gun still firm.

With the man distracted, Y/N began to try and squeeze at least one of her hands from the zip ties that forced her to stay in the chair. She let out small whimpers as the plastic dug deeper into her skin; her right wrist had even begun to bleed slightly from the struggle.

She froze when a familiar voice rang through the flat, “Where is she?”

The man at the door tensed slightly at the unexpected voice. He instinctively gripped his gun tighter, his eyes darting briefly to the figure in the shadow.

"Who's asking?" he replied, his tone gruff and cold.

Instead of responding, the mysterious figure instead raised his right hand, revealing a silenced pistol. Before the other man could react, he fired several shots into his chest and watched as he fell to the ground, lifeless.

Suddenly hands were cupping Y/N's face, tilting it around as whoever was in front of her was assessing the damage. Her eyes were blurry now, and she could barely make out a face; afraid, she tried to pull back from the stranger.

“It's me, darling. It's me." The voice was low, a familiar, calming timbre.

Instinctively her body relaxed as she recognised the voice in front of her, “Lyutisfer…” she whispered brokenly.

“Yes, it's me, my darling." He gently tilted her face up to look at him, his tone soothing, "Can you stand?"

She tried to shake her head, only to wince when it made her feel nauseous. “My wrists are tied... I can’t move...”

"Hold still a moment," he said gently, positioning himself behind her so he could see the bindings on her wrists.

With skilled precision, he retrieved a knife from his pocket and swiftly sliced through the ties, freeing her hands from their constraints. Finally free to mouth, she let out a small cry as she rubbed her wrists in discomfort only to accidentally rub against the open wound on her right wrist.

He saw her reaction and immediately reached forward, gently taking her wrist in his hand.

"Be careful," he murmured, his touch gentle but firm, as he looked at the open wound. "This needs tending to."

“Wait, there's three other men upstairs,” she spoke in alarm, her eyes wide as she struggled to focus her sight.

Nevertheless, he didn’t let go and spoke to her in comfort, “My men will take care of them.”

His words emphasised when Y/N heard the distinct sound of three bodies dropping on the floor above them. As the sound of three bodies hitting the floor echoed through the flat, Y/N's eyes widened in realisation at the implications of his words. But before she could utter another word, a man rushed down the stairs, armed and on high alert.

“We need to leave; it’s possible they have backup.”

Lyutsifer nodded at the man's words, acknowledging the urgency. "You're right," he said, his voice still calm and composed. "There's no time to lose."

He gently tightened his grip on her wrist, guiding her out of the chair she had been bound to. Before they could take more than one step, however, Y/N's exhausted body finally gave out, and she collapsed suddenly, her legs too weak to bear her weight any longer.

Lyutsifer moved fast, catching her body before she could hit the ground. He scooped her up into his arms, holding her close, an arm under her legs and the other under her back.

"Easy, darling," he murmured, his hold strong and secure, "I've got you."

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked in a daze, a strange confusion settling in her mind.

With Y/N cradled in his arms, Lyutsifer started to move towards the front door, the other man falling into step behind him.

At her question, he glanced down at her, his expression serious.

"Somewhere safe," he responded, his voice steady, "somewhere they won't be able to find you."

Her eyes were growing droopy as a wave of fatigue hit her again; she wanted to sleep. Still she was able to mumble to him, “They were looking for you, not me.”

"I know," he responded, his voice low, "but they'll use you to get to me if they have no other options. So we can't risk it."

“I didn’t tell them anything…” Her voice was growing more and more slurred.

He continued to carry her through the front door and outside, where a black Rolls-Royce was waiting.

"I know you didn't," he assured her, his voice still calm. "You did well, darling."

She smiled tiredly at him before it quickly fell again. “I’m tired…”

"You can rest now," he said, his voice low and gentle. He reached the car, and one of his men immediately opened the door for him.

He slowly lowered her into the backseat, adjusting her so she was comfortable against the plush seats. Lyutisfer then slid in next to her before calling over to the driver in the front, “Drive. Now.”

Y/N felt the car pull away, the motion making her feel even more nauseous than before. So, she slowly tilted herself to the left and lowered herself into Lyutsifer’s lap before closing her eyes with a groan.

As she felt herself drift off to sleep, the last thing she heard was his soft, comforting words, "Rest, darling," he said, his voice quiet. "We'll be there soon enough."

The next time Y/N woke up, it was to the sounds of distant waves and a bright light above her. As she blindly felt around her, she soon realised she was now on a large bed that was covered in black silk sheets.

Having only awakened mere minutes ago, confusion and fear quickly set in as she rapidly looked around the room. She tried to slide herself off of the bed so she could escape wherever she was, only to stop when the door suddenly opened and Lyutsifer stepped inside.

"You're awake," he said, his voice calm. "How do you feel?"

“Where is this?” She asked unsure but still felt herself relax slightly when she saw him.

"You're in a safe place," he assured her. "Somewhere they won't find us."

Y/N nodded in understanding, turning to look around the room again and froze when she saw the IV drip and heart monitor next to the bed. “How long have I been asleep for?”

He followed her gaze, noticing her focus on the medical equipment next to the bed. Her question hung in the air for a brief moment before he answered.

"Three days," he said bluntly, his voice matter-of-fact. "The doctor said you needed rest. And for your wounds to heal properly."

For some reason the only thing she could think of saying in that moment was a small, “Oh.”

Despite her short response, he could practically see the questions and confusion flooding her mind. His gaze didn't leave her, observing her closely as if trying to read her thoughts.

"You had a concussion among other injuries," he continued, his voice still firm but not without an undertone of concern. "The doctor had to stitch your wrist, and you'd lost a fair bit of blood. You needed time to recuperate.”

“How bad was it,” she asked before continuing, “when you came in that night, I mean?”

His expression darkened as he recalled the memory. The sight of her bound and injured still fresh in his mind.

"Bad," he replied simply, his voice lower than before, "You were hurt, bleeding. They'd hit you, bound you. But they hadn't gone any further, not yet at least."

“Good.” She blurted out at his last statement, meaning to say it in her head.

"Good?" he echoed, stepping closer to the bed. “You’re glad you were only beaten and bound?”

“I’ve had worse.” She shrugged, only to wince when she felt pain shoot through her back.

"I'm sure you have," he said, coming to a stop near the bed. His eyes were still fixed on her as he spoke, his tone a mix of concern and caution. "But your back clearly still hurts, which means your wounds aren't healed yet. You should stay still."

She nodded in understanding before looking back at him, “How did you even know what was happening?”

He leaned against the bed frame, hands in his pockets, as he looked down at her.

"I had cameras set up in your flat," he admitted, his gaze unwavering. “I had a feeling they'd come for you eventually. The moment I saw what was happening, I came."

“Everywhere in my flat?” She asked with slight alarm, remembering a certain night a week ago when she may have called out a certain name in bed.

He smirked at her question, the alarm in her voice not missed by him.

"Every room," he confirmed, his tone taking on a slightly teasing edge. He leaned a little closer, eyes studying her intensely. "Including the bedroom."

“Oh god!” She exclaimed and put her face in her hands, “How many people saw it?”

He chuckled at her mortified reaction, enjoying the blush that spread across her face.

"Don't worry," he reassured her, his tone slightly amused, "I was the only one watching that night."

“Please tell me you deleted the footage.” Y/N replied, her face still buried in her hands.

He chuckled again, enjoying seeing her so flustered. He reached out and gently pulled her hands away from her face, forcing her to look at him.

"What if I said 'no'?" he teased, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Then it better be locked up even better than the Pentagon, you voyeuristic pervert.” She replied back but for some reason couldn’t find it in her to be completely angry. Although it had invaded her privacy, it had also saved her life.

"Voyeuristic pervert, hm?" he mused, his tone light and playful. "I'm wounded by that, darling. My intentions were purely protective, not perverted."

His words sobered her up again, “I know… I owe you my life.”

"You don't owe me anything," he said firmly, his voice now serious. "I did what I had to do, what any man would have done for a person they..."

He cut himself off, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if he'd said more than he intended to. Noticing his hesitation, Y/N inched closer to him with a curious, hopeful expression. “Yes?”

His gaze flicked to her when she inched closer, his eyes meeting hers. He took a moment, weighing his words, before continuing. "For a person they care about," he said, his voice quieter, "For a person they want to protect."

With sheer intensity, she placed her hands on his face and pulled him towards her into a deep kiss.

Caught off guard momentarily, he froze for a brief instant as her hands cupped his face, drawing him closer. But as her lips met his in a deep, intense kiss, any surprise he may have had melted away.

Lyutsifer responded with equal fervour, one hand instantly going to the back of her neck, pulling her even closer, while the other gripped the edge of the bed. Y/N tried to ignore the burn of her back as she tried to sit up so she could kiss him deeper. Subtly wincing into his lips, but refusing to pull away.

Her attempt to sit up and intensify the kiss didn’t go unnoticed by him. As she winced in pain, he felt her gasp against his lips, the subtle wince she tried to hide. Not wanting to cause her further discomfort, he slowly eased her back against the pillows, breaking the kiss. He pulled away, his eyes scanning her face, concern etched in his features.

"Darling, you need to rest," he said, his voice stern but soft. "You're still healing; you shouldn't move so much."

“Haven’t I made you wait long enough?” She asked, trying to sit back up again only to be stopped by his hands holding her down.

“You’ve been asleep for three days,” he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I can wait a little longer.”

He reached over, his fingers brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. “You’re too eager, darling. You need time to properly recover.”

With a sigh, Y/N looked down slightly but nodded in disappointed understanding, “So how long am I stuck in this bed then?”

"For at least a few more days," he answered, his tone firm. "You need to rest and let your body heal. The doctor will be checking on you regularly, and you'll have to take it easy until your wounds are fully healed."

“And then?”

He ran his fingers idly through her hair as she asked her question, his touch gentle and tender.

"And then," he replied, "you'll be free to move around again. Well, within reason."

He smirked before continuing, "But you'll still have to take it easy for a while. No more attempting to break out of bed just because you're impatient."

“So what exactly am I supposed to do till then?” She asked as Lyutsifer moved to sit next to her on the bed.

"Rest, darling," he said, his tone firm but not without a hint of affection. "You need to let your body recover. You can read, watch TV, or I could find you something to keep you occupied. But you're not leaving this room for the time being."

“Okay.” She agreed, although secretly she couldn’t wait for the doctor to sign her off and allow her to move around again.

- One Shots -

Back to Welcome | Multi-chapter Fics *Indicates Smut

Josh Washington Chocolate Brownies - GN!Reader Zero Suit* Inked Up* Akhmenrah Fireworks - GN!Reader Lyutsifer Safin "Cherry", (PT2) Masquerade* , (PT3) December Night

Le Chiffre White Fur Trim*

Masquerade | Lyutsifer Safin x Fem!Reader (Smut)

Masterlist | Part 2 to "Cherry" 6 months after the events in vegas, Y/N has a unexpected reunion with the mysterious figure who had both saved and endangered her life. (WC: 3484)

Warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, slight praise kink, AFAB! reader.

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After the incident in Vegas, Y/N had been put on leave for four months. M had told her it wasn’t a punishment but to give her time to recuperate from the effects of the drugs. It had been the longest four months of her life.

Even after her leave ended, she was then given exclusively domestic assignments. Hence why Y/N currently finds herself in the middle of a ballroom wearing a rabbit-shaped mask and an elegant glittering white dress.

She’d been assigned as one of the bodyguards for a foreign princess, attending an exclusive masquerade ball. Thankfully, because the princess was young, she left before nine, and Y/N was permitted to stay and enjoy the ball as an attendee.

“It’s a pleasant surprise to see you again, 'Cherry,” a familiar voice whispered closely in her ear, causing Y/N to turn her and gaze into the piercing blue eyes hidden behind a black wolf mask.

“How did you get in here?” She asked her voice a whisper so as not to gain too much attention.

“I was invited.” Safin had answered, smirking. “I must say I prefer this to what you were wearing the last we met.”

She couldn’t help the blush that rose to her cheeks as he spoke. The silence she experienced during her four-month leave allowed her time to think. As she tried to think back to that night and her next plan of action, she always found herself thinking of him.

“Why are you speaking to me?” Y/N whispered harshly, still staring into his eyes.

"Does a man need a reason to talk to a beautiful woman?" He asked, his voice still low, seductive. Y/N shivered as she felt his eyes on her, moving them downwards as he admired the exposed skin of her chest.

“A man like you does.” She answered, looking away to watch the couples dance in hopes of distracting herself.

"And what kind of man do you think I am, Miss Y/L/N?" Safin took a step closer, closing the distance between them. He lifted his hand, placing it on her waist, pulling her slightly closer to him.

Y/N couldn’t help but gasp at the sudden contact, “A man who definitely has ulterior motives.”

"And what ulterior motives would that be?" He leaned in even closer, his lips nearly brushing against her ear.

She subconsciously leaned backwards into him for a moment before quickly pulling away from him. “I want no part in your plans.”

With that, she shook herself and grabbed the first man she saw to pull her onto the dance floor to get away from him. It was not until the stranger put her hands on her waist roughly did she come to regret the decision. He was a tall blonde, but the smug smirk on his masked face showed her he was an egotistical rich kid.

"Well, you sure are forward." He drawled out as they began to waltz.

“Believe me, this isn’t what I intended to do tonight.”

“Don’t worry,” he spun her, suddenly making her head spin. “I have that effect on women.”

God Y/N just wanted this to end. Instead, the song still had a few minutes left, so she sighed and resigned herself to being stuck with this unfortunate dance partner. The man tried to make conversation, but it was all hallow bragging about how rich he was, or more accurately, his parents.

As the music neared its end, Y/N stiffened as she spotted Safin approaching from behind the blonde and tapping him on the shoulder, interrupting the dance.

“May I cut in?” His voice was cold; it came out as a command rather than a question.

The blonde was about to protest, but a sharp look from Safin made him lose his nerves, and he stepped away. Allowing for Safin to place his arm around Y/N’s waist and pull her close as the next song began.

As they began to dance, Y/N was silent for a moment before she looked up at him and asked, “Aren’t you worried about drawing attention to yourself?”

"I've dealt with unwanted attention before." He replied, his voice low. "And I assure you, no one in this room will dare question me."

He took a step forward, moving her closer to him, their bodies nearly pressed against each other. He could feel the heat radiating off of her, the subtle scent of her perfume filling his senses.

"Oh, I’m aware of your power, Lyutsifer Safin.” Y/N spoke, revealing her knowledge of his identity. After the incident those months ago, she’d secretly researched heavily into the mysterious man who’d broken her cover so easily yet had let her go.

"You have done your research, it seems." He chuckled, amused.

As they continued to dance, Lyutsifer’s grip on her waist tightened, pulling her even closer to him, their bodies now almost flush. He looked down at her, a hint of condescension in his eyes.

"And what do you make of me, Miss Y/L/N?"

She hesitated for a moment before she answered, “To be frank, not much; over these last few years you’ve been a ghost, just a whisper. But one name stands out next to yours. Spectre.”

Lyutsifer’s face hardened at the mention of Spectre, a flicker of anger and pain crossing his features. His hand on her waist tightened to the point of being painful. He could feel the pulse of anger thrumming just beneath the surface.

"You know about Spectre?" He asked, his voice dangerously low.

She scoffed lowly, “Of course I know about Spectre; I helped bring most of the lower circle in.”

"You helped bring them in?" He repeated, his voice laced with interest. "You were a part of that operation?

“Well, I won’t take full credit." Y/N replied modestly, “Double O Seven did the most work.”

He took a step forward, pulling her closer, their bodies almost touching now. He leaned in, his breath teasing her ear. "How did you end up involved with them anyway?"

Y/N inhaled sharply at his breath before answering calmly, “I was an orphan; MI6 recruited me because I had nothing to lose and nobody to miss me.”

His grip on her waist relaxed slightly, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he looked at her closely, studying her face, trying to gauge her expression.

"I've made my peace with it," she replied truthfully, looking intently at his face with an expression of acceptance.

He gently tilted her chin up with his other hand, holding her gaze.

"You've made peace with a lonely existence, yet here you stood tonight wearing a beautiful dress, dancing the night away." He mused, his voice low and contemplative.

She wasn’t sure what to say in response to his words; instead, she remained silent and focused on the music. Lyutisfer watched her carefully, keeping his hand on her waist as he guided her around the dance floor.

They danced in silence for a while, only broken at her question. Her voice was almost a whisper and showed her vulnerability. “I don’t understand, why me?”

Lyutsifer looked down at her, his eyes holding hers in a steely gaze. He held her close, his grip tight, almost possessive.

"Why you, Miss Y/L/N?" He murmured.

“Just tell me." Her voice was strained, tense from the tension she was feeling between the two of them.

Lyutsifer leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Perhaps this should be taken somewhere more private?”

She knew deep down that going anywhere private with him was dangerous; it was asking for trouble. His suggestion was both thrilling and terrifying, and she knew it was too late to protest. She found herself hesitantly nodding.

He smiled, pleased with her agreement, no matter how hesitant she was. As the music approached its close, Lyutsifer took her hand and quickly led her from the dance floor and out of the ballroom. The hallways were completely empty save for a few guards, but they ignored the pair as Lyutsifer escorted her far away from the ball and into an empty parlour room.

As they stepped inside, the air grew thick with the sudden tension of being alone. Y/N realised that anything could happen here and no one would ever know. She heard the door click as Lyutsifer closed it behind them. He approached her, keeping his eyes focused on hers as he reached out to graze his fingers on the side of her neck.

A shiver spread through her body, and her gasp filled the silent air. “This is too dangerous.”

He stepped closer and pushed her backwards into the wall. “Then why did you come with me so readily?”

“I’m not sure.”

Lyutsifer chuckled, a low, seductive sound that sent a shiver through her body. He had her trapped against the wall, his body pressed against hers, the heat between them intensifying.

He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "You could have left; you could have called for help." His lips brushed her neck, and his voice whispered with seduction. "But you didn't, did you?"

“I should have." It was harder for her to say, “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

"No, darling, there's nothing wrong with you," he murmured, his fingers tracing a line down her neck, caressing the sensitive skin. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her collarbone, planting a soft, lingering kiss there.

Her back arched as he kissed her collarbone, letting out a small moan in pleasure. Unable to stop herself, she gripped the back of his neck to pull him closer. He continued to trail kisses down her collarbone and neck until he suddenly pulled away. They looked each other in the eye with an unreadable expression before Lyutsifer grabbed her cheeks and pulled her into a heated kiss.

She closed her eyes as she responded to the kiss eagerly. As His scarred lips pushed against hers, desire continued to pool in Y/N’s stomach. Lyutsifer pushed forward, placing his left leg in between her own; in response, Y/N began to gently grind herself on his thigh.

Lyutsifer responded with matching desire, deepening the kiss and gripping her cheeks with a firm, possessive grip. His left hand slipped to her hip, holding her tightly against him.

With a hand against his chest, Y/N pushed against his chest and reached up to hold the mask covering his face. “May I?”

Lyutsifer pulled back slightly, a hint of surprise in his eyes at her question. He looked at her, his gaze intense and unreadable.

"You want to see my face." He stated it as a fact, his voice almost nonchalant. "Why?" His grip on her cheek tightened slightly.

“It’s too impersonal to kiss you behind a mask,” she replied, forgetting she was still wearing a mask of her own. “Besides, I have seen it before.”

He studied her, his expression contemplative, before his fingers moved to her own mask, pulling it off and stroking his hand against her cheek.

"You're right. Too impersonal." He admitted, his voice quieter. "But are you sure you want to see it? It's not exactly pretty."

“But it’s your face; I want to see it.” She replied, already reaching underneath it to pull it up and off his face.

As his mask was removed, Lyutisfer watched her eyes widen as she took in the sight of his face. He knew it was a shock—the scars, the disfigurement—but he didn't look away, holding her gaze in an unflinching stare.

"You're not, repulsed?"

“It’s like lightning, beautiful.”

"Beautiful," he echoed, the word a whisper. "You see beauty in this disfigurement?"

She smiled slightly at him, far more comfortable than she knew she should be. “They may not be as big, but I also have my fair share of scars.”

He looked her over, taking in the way the soft light played across her skin and the way the dress clung to her body. His eyes zeroed in on the hint of scars peeking out from the edges of her dress, and his heart lurched. Scars that mirrored his own, scars that held a silent history.

"Show me." He murmured, his hand coming up to cup her face, tilting her chin up towards him. "Let me see them."

At his words, her confidence faulted slightly. While she’d never been insecure about her scars, she was suddenly aware of how vulnerable she had made herself in this moment. Nevertheless, she carefully turned around and allowed him to unzip the back of her dress.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his hand reach out and slowly pull the zip down, revealing her scarred back to him. Across her back were several long, jagged lines of scarring; the lighter colour made them stand out against her skin in the low light.

“I got caught during an undercover; their favourite method of torture was whipping.” She explained quietly as she felt his hands softly trace across her back.

“Beautiful,” Lyutsifer muttered before leaning forward and placing a small kiss in the centre of her spine, causing her to let out a soft, breathy moan. Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her closer, and he continued to trail kisses upwards to her neck.

“Please.” She breathed out, but she had no idea what she was asking for, having to place a hand on the wall in front of her to steady herself.

He chuckled against her skin, "Please what, Dragotsennyy?" He asked in a whisper. "Use your words."

“I don’t know.” Her mind was racing, but all she could focus on was the feelings of him kissing and breathing on her back.

"You're thinking too much, darling." He murmured against her skin, his lips moving up to her ear, his tone commanding.

Y/N pulled away and slowly turned to face him, her back now pressed against the wall. “It’s hard not to.”

"You have a habit of overthinking, don't you?" he commented, a hint of humour in his voice.

He smirked as he moved his hand from her waist and slid through the slit in her dress, gently massaging her inner thigh. Y/N gasped at his sudden action, arching her back slightly and pressing her chest against his.

After shaking herself slightly, she replied, “Someone has to.”

"You're too independent," he murmured, his hand continuing to knead her thigh. "Too focused on control. You need to let go, sometimes."

Before she could respond, Lyutsifer moved his hand from her thigh and simply grazed Y/N’s core through her underwear. She responded with a loud moan, “Fuck, Lyutisifer.”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "Language, dragotsennyy." He whispered, his fingers still rubbing against her.

All the young agent could do was whimper in response, her eyes closed as she began to gently grind against his fingers. He chuckled again, feeling her writhe and grind against his fingers, her whimper echoing in the air. Her reaction was exactly what he wanted—a beautiful, desperate need for more.

He brought his other hand to her face, tilting it, forcing her to look up at him. His gaze captured her, intense and unwavering.

"Open your eyes, Dragotsennyy," he commanded. "Look me in the eye."

She opened her eyes and gazed into his crystal eyes before almost squeezing them shut when Lyutsifer took the opportunity to slide her underwear aside and immediately circle her clit.

He leaned in closer, his lips practically touching her ear as he whispered, "Don't close your eyes; look at me." His fingers continued their slow, deliberate movements against her.

As his stroking continued, Y/N obediently kept her eyes connected with his stare. Only fluttering slightly as she whined and moaned from his touch.

A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips as she kept her eyes on his. He loved watching her in this state, completely at his mercy, completely under his control.

His fingers continued their slow, deliberate rhythm, drawing out her moans and whines, his eyes never leaving her face. He wanted to see every reaction, every expression, and every moment that flitted across her face.

"Look at you," he murmured. "So responsive, so beautiful."

After he spoke, Lyutsifer gently pushed his index finger forward and into her soaking entrance. Unable to control her body, a sudden electric sensation spread through and caused her to arch her back, eyes rolling back slightly, eyes fluttering shut.

“No, no, Dragotsennyy," he chided softly, his fingers continuing their slow, deliberate rhythm. "Eyes on me. Open them." His tone was firm, commanding control.

“I can’t,” she choked out, hands moving to grip his neck. “It’s too much.”

He smirked, loving the way she gripped his neck, needing something to hold onto. He could see the pleasure written all over her face and could hear it in her voice. She was on the edge, about to fall.

"Yes, you can." He countered, his tone firm. His fingers continued to move, but he slowed just slightly, wanting to prolong the moment, the edge of sweet release just out of reach.

"Look at me." He repeated, his voice low, commanding.

Her eyes flew open at his command, ever the obedient. She pulled his face closer so their foreheads touched, still looking deep into his eyes and moaning loudly as she reached her peak,  almost shrieking in ecstasy.

Her scream of ecstasy echoed through the room, her body trembling with the intensity of her climax. He held her close, their foreheads touching, his fingers still moving but far more slowly, bringing her back down gently.

He watched her, captivated by the sight of her, by the raw, unguarded pleasure on her face, by the way her eyes stayed on his, even as she rode out the wave of her release.

He pulled her close as her body finally relaxed, whispering against her cheek, "Beautiful. You're so beautiful like this."

Still coming down from her high, she didn’t speak. Instead, she lent forward and gently kissed him before resting her head on his shoulder as she caught her breath.

She was breathless, her breaths still coming in gasps as she leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. He gently held her, his hand rubbing small circles on her back, feeling the slight tremors still running through her body.

"You did so well, Dragotsennyy," he murmured against her ear. "You were so good, so responsive."

As he spoke, his hand trailed down her back before carefully zipping her dress back up, causing shivers to spread through Y/N’s body again. She leant further against him in exhaustion.

“We shouldn’t have done that.” She said, her voice hoarse, and nothing more than a whisper.

He laughed softly, her words a weak, weary protest against what they had just done. He had seen the way she responded to his touch, the way she lost herself in ecstasy, the way her body trembled in pleasure.

"You enjoyed it," he responded. "Don't pretend otherwise."

“That’s the problem,” the young agent answered as she pulled herself upwards in an attempt to move away. “It can’t happen again if anyone finds out...”

Before she could finish, Lyutsifer grabbed her cheek, making her face him. “Then I could claim you as my own; no one would get in my way.”

It was a firm declaration, a possessive gesture that spoke volumes. He was claiming her in more ways than one. His eyes locked onto hers, unflinching, as he continued to hold her gaze.

Suddenly the door opened to the room they had hidden away in, and a mysterious man in a suit appeared. He didn’t seem surprised by what he found and instead looked directly at Lyutsifer and said, "Dr. Safin sir, we have a problem.”

"A problem?" he enquired, his expression turning serious at the man's words. He released his grip on Y/N, turning fully to face the newcomer. "What kind of problem?"

The newcomer glanced at Y/N in slight caution before turning back to his boss, “I think it’d be best to discuss in private.”

“It’s fine I was just leaving.” She spoke up as she pulled herself away and moved towards the door.

"Wait," he said, his tone firm. He watched as she hesitated, her hand on the door handle, then turned back to him, "We're not quite done here."

“I’m sorry, but I think we are.” With that, she turned the handle and swiftly left the room.

Footsteps echoed as she excited the room and quickly walked down the corridor to the main entrance, afraid she was being followed. When she left the building, she quickly found a taxi to take her home.

It was almost cruel how similar this was to that night all those months ago. She allowed him to get to close again, and she had run. And yet, despite how much danger she had already put herself in, all she wanted to do was run back inside.

Fireworks | Y/N x Ahkmenrah

Masterlist British!Reader is feeling homesick without celebrating Bonfire night. After confiding in Ahkmenrah, he seeks help from the others to make sure they don't miss out on their favourite holiday (WC: 2334) AN: I wrote this in basically a day so apologies if it's not super polished.

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Y/N had been working as a night guard for the museum of natural history for a little over six months now. They’d moved to New York from the UK a year ago to attend NYU studying archeology. So when they were desperate for money and they found out the local museum had an open position, they happily took it.

The job did take some adjusting, especially when on their first night they came face to face with a moving t-rex skeleton, but thankfully, with the help of Larry and the other exhibits, they slowly became apart of their mismatched family.

It was notable that over the last six months Y/N had grown closest to Ahkmenrah. Not only due to their closeness in age but also their shared interest in history. Most nights Y/N could be found walking with Ahkmenrah, either listening to his stories or catching him up on recent history.

It was now November, Halloween had just passed, and Y/N was feeling unusually more homesick than usual. Instead of listening emotively to Ahkmenrah’s stories, they simply hummed in acknowledgement. They’re so caught up in their homesick melancholy that they fails to notice that he’s stopped speaking.

"Y/N, are you alright?” He nudged them gently as he asked. “You seem distant this evening?”

"Sorry, it’s silly, really.”

"Are you sure? You don't seem alright," he says quietly, his crystal eyes watching them. "You never ignore me."

“Oh Ahkmen, I’m so sorry!” Their face suddenly filled with emotion. “I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

He shook his head at their apologies and stepped forward to hold their hand. "No, it’s fine, Y/N, but what’s wrong?”

“I’m just missing the UK this time of year.”

Ahkmenrah's eyes soften as he takes their hand. "I understand. It is okay to miss your home." He says quietly. He looks up at them, and he can tell that the homesickness that they’re feeling is a very heavy thing.

He gently squeezes their hand. "Do you talk to your family back in England?" He gives a thoughtful glance before looking back up at them.

“It’s not that; I spoke to them just this morning, but..." Y/N pauses for a moment before continuing, “I kinda miss the fireworks.”

His brows furrow slightly in confusion. “Fireworks?”

“Every year in the UK we set off fireworks and make bonfires on the Fifth of November.” They begin to explain, “We call it Bonfire or Guy Fawkes night.”

The confusion is now replaced with wide-eyed curiosity; his eyes sparkle with interest as he speaks, “That sounds wonderful, so you celebrate with fireworks?”

Y/N nodded, happy with Akhmenrah’s genuine interest. “Um yeah, it’s a way to commemorate when Guy Fawkes failed to blow up parliament in 1605.”

Ahkmenrah raises his eyebrows. He seems more intrigued than ever at this point. "A failed attack on a government.. so you celebrate?" he says, almost in awe at the idea. "How exciting!"

“Yeah, although like most holidays we mainly use it as an excuse to get stinking drunk.” They laughed quietly at their own joke, “But my parents and I used to always go see a fireworks show every year.”

“Did you do anything else?” He asked, still curious, to which Y/N’s asked sparkled before they spoke. The two then spent the rest of the night talking about different traditions and foods that bonfire night often had. They also discussed different holidays Akhmenrah would celebrate during his life in Ancient Egypt.

Eventually, the sun began to rise and the two had to part, but not before Y/N escorted him back to his tomb. “I’ll see you tonight, Akhmen.”

“See you tonight, Y/N.” He replied, but he looked as if he wanted to keep talking, making Y/N confused, but they didn’t have time to reply as the sarcophagus closed and the tablet glowed once more.

Y/N sighed before gently tapping on the sarcophagus and whispered the one thing they could never say during the night, “I love you...” before stepping away and heading back home.

The next night, Larry greeted them with a favour: "Listen, could you just keep an eye on the minis tonight? They’ve been whispering, and I got a feeling they're planning something.”

“Sure, no worries.” They ended up spending their whole night with Jedediah and Octavius. Y/N took them to the projection room and let them pick any movies to watch; they ended up picking The Lord of the Rings trilogy.

By the time Sunrise was close, they had only just finished the second film, and with a promise to watch the third movie, the two let Y/N carry them back to their exhibits. Once they had finished closing their assigned exhibits, Y/N made their way to the museum lobby.

As they walked down the stairs, Y/N paused as they spotted Ahkmenrah and Larry talking in hushed tones and looked at something on Larry’s laptop. The two hadn’t noticed Y/N as they slowly walked closer to the two.

“What are you boys whispering about?” They asked, causing the two men to jump slightly at the sudden voice. Larry quickly shut the laptop, looking incredibly awkward at being caught.

“Ah, Y/N. We were just... discussing some work stuff. Nothing important.” The older nightguard spoke rapidly, not sounding convincing at all. He glanced at the young pharaoh to back him up, who proceeded to nod while smiling a bit too widely.

“Uh Huh…” Y/N spoke with their arms crossed, clearly not believing them. “You guys are keeping something from me, and I’m gonna find out, but it’s close to sunrise, so it can wait.” 

Ahkmenrah squirms a little under thier scrutinising gaze. Larry, still looking sheepish, scratches the back of his neck. "Right. Yes. Sunrise." He agrees quickly. "Everything can wait." After a moment, he nudges Ahkmenrah, who hasn't spoken yet.

The Egyptian Pharaoh coughs and composes himself quickly. "Yes, yes. Sunrise," he said as his face went back to the usual cool and calm look.

Y/N smiled at the Ahkmenrah fondly before gently grabbing his arm and saying, “Come on, I’ll get you settled back in your room.”

Ahkmenrah doesn't look so tense anymore after seeing their smile. Once they grab his arm, he lets out a quiet breath and relaxes a little. "Thank you," he mumbles under his breath and lets Y/N lead him back to his exhibit.

As they led him, Y/N started to talk. There's no specific topic to their rambling, but it helps distract Akhmenrah from the inevitability that soon he’ll be in the sarcophagus once again. When they arrive in front of his exhibit, Y/N feels him tense next to them and gently guides him towards the sarcophagus.

“It’s okay, we’ll be right here for you when you wake up,” they try to comfort him as he lowers himself into his tomb.

He lays down in his sarcophagus and gives them a small nod, a silent thank you. "I trust that you will," he murmurs as his chest rises and falls with calm breaths.

As Y/N looks at him, their mind runs on autopilot and, without thinking, reaches down and places a soft kiss on his forehead. Realising what they’ve done, Y/N pulls away wide-eyed, "Sorry, I don’t know why I did that.”

Ahkmenrah is still stunned for a moment, his face red. "I-" he stutters slightly, trying to organise his thoughts. "No, it's alright," he manages, his voice trembling a little from the unexpected gesture.

Before they could reply, they spotted the tablet begin to slowly glow. With a sigh, they turned back to Ahkmenrah and said, "Sorry, it’s sunrise; I need to close this.”

Ahkmenrah reluctantly nods, his face still a little flustered from the kiss. The tablet's glow grows brighter as the sun rises. "Yes, of course," he mumbles, his voice slightly hushed.

He takes a deep breath before speaking again, trying to hide the hint of disappointment in his voice. "I'll see you tonight then."

“See you tonight.” With that, Y/N pushed the sarcophagus closed and waited until the glowing ended before heading home. As they walked down New York Street, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder exactly what Larry and Ahkmenrah were whispering about; they made a mental note to ask on their next shift.

Yet when they arrived the next evening, Y/N was confused to find the main lobby entirely empty, even despite the fact they’d arrived over thirty minutes late.

“Hello?” They called out as their voice echoed around the museum, “Where is everyone?”

Still no response, causing Y/N to sigh slightly. Suddenly the sounds of footsteps approaching caused them to tense as possibility spread through their head, What if there thrives in the museum? What if they’d stolen the tablet?

As the footsteps grew closer, Y/N hid behind the desk while clutching their torch like a weapon, ready to strike. They heard the person stop in front of the desk, causing Y/N to jump up and swing. Only to be stopped by an outstretched hand and a loud voice yelling their name.

“Atilla?” Y/N’s eyes were wide as they realised who they’d nearly attacked. “I’m sorry, I thought you were an intruder.”

He replied in Hun and a small pat on their left shoulder to indicate no harm was done before holding his hand out. Y/N took his hand and allowed him to take them to the new planetarium that had been built a month ago. They stood outside for a moment before the doors swung open.

Y/N gasped as they saw how the room was decorated with various streamers and balloons and spotted the rest of the museum happily partying with each other.  Everyone is having a great time, and the room is filled with music and laughter. Larry, among the others, is near the centre holding up a drink. He sees you and waves.

"Ah, Y/N!" Larry calls out. "There you are! Was starting to worry you weren't coming." He gestures to the surroundings. "What do you think? Pretty neat, huh?”

They approach him slowly, still taking in the surroundings. “Larry? What on earth is going on?”

“We’re celebrating bonfire night!” He exclaimed excitedly while handing them a drink, “I think we got most of it right but added our own American twist, you know?”

“How did you even know about this?” Y/N asked, to which Larry simply pointed to a corner where they could see Ahkmenrah talking to Sacagawea and Teddy.

They left Larry at the bar with a polite wave and made their way over to the trio. Ahkmenrah’s eyes instantly locked onto them when he saw them approaching. “Y/N! You finally made it!”

“Did you do all this for me?” They asked while smiling brightly.

"Yes! Yes, I did," he replies enthusiastically. "Larry and the others helped, of course. But I wanted tonight to be special for you."

His eyes sparkle as he looks at you, happy to see your reaction to his efforts. "Do you like it?"

“Like it?” Y/N began while looking around again in wonder, "Ahkmen, I love it!”

“You do?” He asked, to which Y/N nodded, "Well, there’s more to come still; in fact, it should be starting in just a minute.”

“What’s starting?”

Instead, he grabbed their hand and led them to a specific spot. “It’s a surprise, but follow me; I know the perfect spot to watch.”

Before Y/N could ask another question, the main lights dimmed, leaving them in darkness. They looked up as the constellations began to move, gently dancing for a moment before one of them exploded into a dazzling display of colours.

Y/N’s eyes widened in recognition before they looked at Ahkmenrah and whispered, “Fireworks...”

“Larry said we couldn’t get real ones, but I thought this would be a good alternative.” He explained, watching as they smiled brightly, their face illuminated by the beautiful light show.

Feeling incredibly proud, he takes Y/N’s hand and stands beside them, watching the animated sky with them. "I'm glad you're enjoying it." He mumbled quietly and squeezed their hand.

Y/N continued to watch the fireworks, but as the display neared its end, they turned toward the young pharaoh. “Could I do something a little crazy?”

Ahkmenrah tilts his head a little and smiles, intrigued and curious about their question. "Of course, Y/N, what is it?"

Instead of answering, Y/N slowly reached a hand out to caress his cheek. They looked into his eyes for a moment before reaching forward and gently placing their lips on his. Ahkmenrah freezes for a moment, stunned by their action, but then he slowly blinks and closes his eyes.

In the dim light of the planetarium, he gently returns the kiss, his lips moving gently against theirs. After a moment, he hesitantly wraps his arms around them to pull them closer, his fingers lightly tracing along their back.

The two only pull away once a cacophony of cheers and clapping surrounds them. Y/N quickly hides their blushing face in Ahkmenrah's chest when they turn and see all their friends congratulating them for finally taking the next step.

Y/N feels his chest move as he chuckles softly before pulling them closer. “Thank you, my friends, but I think we should get back to the party.”

With his kind but commanding words, the rest of them quickly began to party once more, but not without a suggestive whistle from a certain cowboy.

They pull away from his chest slightly before speaking, “Thank you, Ahkmen, for all of this.”

"I wanted to make this special for you, and it was worth the wait," he says softly and gives their forehead a light kiss. “Shall we get back to the party?”

“Lead the way.” Y/N replied, allowing him to lead them by the waist to join their friends on the dance floor.

In that moment, finally being with the person they cared about most as their friends danced around them, Y/N realised they hadn’t thought of home once. Even if for a moment, Akhmenrah had healed their homesickness, and they couldn’t be happioer.

Zero Suit | Fem! Y/N x Josh Washington *Smut*

Masterlist When Y/N attends her long time crush Josh's party, she makes a plan to dress up especially from him. When she meets him at the party, tension quickly rise and she finds herself getting everything she ever hoped for. (WC: 3404 ) Song used: Into you - Ariana Grande

Warnings: Smut, AFAB! Reader, Alcohol, Drunk Sex

AN: This the first Smut I've ever written so please don't mind if it's a bit lackluster. Set in an AU where Beth and Hannah lived

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Y/N adjusted the arms of her body suit as she walked up to the Washington’s house. She walked next to her best friend Sam as they approached the door. Colour lights were flashing, and a sea of bodies could be seen from the windows outside.

“Do we even bother knocking?” Sam asked while smirking, her hands on her hips.

Y/N shrugged before reaching forward to grab the handle, twisting and watching the door open with ease, “Guess not.”

The two held hands and stepped inside, closing the door behind them. Sam took the lead and guided Y/N through the crowds and into the kitchen, where The Washingtons usually kept the drinks. As they entered, the distinctly slurred voice of an already drunk Chris greeted them.

"Hey, you guys finally made it!” He approached them and pulled them into a little group hug. “I thought I’d have to survive here all by my lonesome.”

The two girls laughed at their friend, even more so at his peculiar costume. “Are you wearing an ascot, Chris?” Y/N asked playfully, flicking at the orange piece of fabric wrapped around his neck.

“Ah well… it was Ashley’s idea,” he explained, pointing to the outfit Ashley was dancing in the crowd; the purple outfit alongside the green headband made it clear who she was dressed as.

"Wow, couples outfits already,” Y/N continued to tease, “I’m impressed, Chris.”

“Oh yeah, well, what exactly made you pick your costume then, huh?” He teased back in return, a blush forming on her face as a result.

The truth is she’d pick her outfit based on one night a few weeks ago when they were all comparing different childhood crushes. The group had all been sitting in the basement when Mike had brought it up. The conversation had quickly devolved into the boys comparing all the women they found hot, specifically video game characters.

“I’m a fine of the classics,” Josh had proudly exclaimed. “I’m kind of ashamed none of you have mentioned Samus. I mean, have you seen her in that blue suit she wears?”

At the time, Y/N had rolled her eyes while the other girls complained to the boys and forced them to change the topic. Yet, when the time came to plan her Halloween costume, her mind instantly went back to that one thing Josh had said. It wasn’t as hard to find the costume as she thought it would be, and so here she stood, leaving nothing to the imagination as the blue bodysuit clung to her body.

“Shut up, Chris,” she chastised him before turning to the kitchen counter and began fixing herself a drink. Her and Sam had drank together as they were getting ready, so she was already slightly tipsy.

“I still can’t believe me and Ash got together before you even confessed to Josh,” he shook his head in mock disappointment.

“Chris I swear to God I will throw you in the pool!” She threatened, Chris placing his hands up in mock surrender.

"Chris, come on, lay off; you know what it's like to have a crush on one of our friends.” Sam spoke up in your defence. Chris looked shameful for a moment and offered you a genuine apology.

“It’s okay,” Y/N hugged him again before noticing Ashley's wandering eyes on the dance floor. “Now go dance with your girlfriend.” She pushed him away in the direction of Ash, smiling as she watched the two hug when they reached each other.

She turned back to the corner and poured her and Sam some drinks while the blonde texted on her phone. Sam thanked her when Y/N passed her the drink before speaking, "Hey, listen, I’m going to go find Hannah; you wanna come?”

“I think just gonna chill here for a bit, you go.” She replied, and after a second reassurance to Sam that 'yes, it was definitely okay.', the blonde left the kitchen in search of her best friend.

Now by herself, Y/N leaned against the kitchen counter and glanced around the party for people she recognised. Chris and Ashley were still on the dance floor holding each other close, and next to them dancing a little more erotically were Jess and Mike. She hadn’t seen Emily and Matt yet, but knowing Emily, she had probably dragged him to the hot tub.

With her eyes focused on the crowd around her, Y/N didn’t see the person slowly creeping next to her. Sliding close, they leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Boo!”

She jumped with a small scream and whipped her head around, coming face to face with the new person. “Josh!” She yelled at him as he laughed, “Don’t do that!”

“Sorry, sorry, I just couldn’t help myself,” he apologised but was still laughing, leaning on the kitchen counter. Josh looked good; he was in a surprisingly simple jean and white t-shirt combo but had topped it off by covering himself in fake blood.

“So who are you supposed to be?” Y/N asked, moving past his little scare.

Instead of answering, he pulled a small white device from his pocket and lifted it to his mouth before speaking, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” It seems the device he was using was a voice modulator that deepened Josh’s voice.

"Oh, Billy Loomis!” She pointed at him as she realised, “You look so cool.”

“Thanks,” He replied before looking at her in a way Y/N couldn’t figure out, “You look... well, you lot hot, Y/N.”

She blushed and smiled shyly, "Thanks.”

There was an almost uncomfortably long moment of silence between the two; they both looked away awkwardly, each drawing a long sip from their drinks, “Are you... do you like the party?” Josh broke the party while looking at her expectedly.

“Um yeah!” She replied, and she turned to look at him, “You always know how to plan them.”

“Do you wanna go join Chris and Ash?” He offered gesturing to the dance floor with his thumb.

“Sure.” Y/N allowed Josh to take her hand and lead her onto the dance floor; although they didn’t find Chris and Ashely, they still stayed in the centre of the dance floor.

The crowd cheered as the next song played, and couples quickly gravitated to each other, Y/N blushing as she realised what the song was. However, the drinks were catching up, and her body relaxed as she kept dancing unashamedly.

I'm so into you

I can barely breathe

As she turned slightly as she danced, Y/N felt some hands tentatively reach out and hover by her hips.

And all I wanna do

Is to fall in deep

Turning around, she came face-to-face with Josh. He was looking intently at her eyes, hooded with an unreasonable expression on his face.

But close ain't close enough.

'Til we cross the line,

Before she could lose her nerves, she placed her hands on his and guided them so he was touching her hips. 

So name a game to play.

And I'll roll the dice.

She began to gently sway, allowing the gentle rhythm to control her movements. Josh kept a hold on her hips, slowly stroking her side in circular motions as he continued to watch her.

Oh, baby, look what you started.

The temperature's rising in here.

Y/N looked up at Josh, her stomach twisted as she made eye contact with his intense stare. She started to gently sing along to the words as she maintained eye contact, almost gasping as Josh pulled her closer.

Is this gonna happen?

Lifting her arms, she placed them around his shoulders, linking her hands at the back of his neck before pulling him even closer. Y/N continued to sing along, allowing Josh to feel her breath on his skin.

Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move.

Before I make a move

He paused as he listened to the lyrics she was singing, a spark of hope passing through him as he looked at her carefully. “Are you sure?”

“Uh huh” is the only sound she can make out of before pulling him forward and slamming her lips to his. The moment her lips touch Josh’s, her whole mind goes blank. His lips are slightly chapped, and he tastes like beer, but all Y/N wants is more.

She feels his hand squeeze her hips as he pulls her even closer; at this point he’s practically leaning over her.  When she gasps into the kiss, Josh takes the opportunity to slide his tongue past her parted lips.

A hand slowly slides from her hips to cup her ass gently. Josh smirked into the kiss as he slowly felt through the thin fabric. “Y/N…” He teases, “Are you not wearing underwear?”

Her face grew hot in embarrassment. "I... the bodysuit was too thin, and I didn’t want them showing.”

"Well, I’m certainly not complaining." Josh replied, giving her ass a rough squeeze, “If anything, it just makes you hotter.”

All Y/N can do in reply is pull him back down into another heated kiss. She whined into the kiss and subconsciously ground herself forward into him. Letting out a strangled moan that was drowned out from the music, Josh pulled back from the kiss so he could whisper in her ears.

“Do you wanna take this somewhere private?” His breath was warm against her ears.

“Yeah.” She lets Josh grab her hand and lead her through the crowd. They left the dance floor and made their way upstairs and walked down a long corridor full of couples just making out. Eventually the pair stopped in front of what she recognised as Josh’s room.

“Gimme me a second,” Josh said before pulling out a key. “Didn’t want any strangers doing it on my bed, so I locked it.”

Y/N leant against the wall, giggling as she watched him struggle with the lock for a moment before he was able to swing the door open. He pushed the door open, flicking the light switch on so the room was filled with a dim light. He grabbed Y/N’s hand again, leading her inside and quickly closing the door behind her.

As soon as the door was shut, he pushed her against it, pinning her there with his body as his lips found her neck. He started kissing and gently biting at her skin, smirking into her skin at the little whines she made.

“You have no idea... how much I’ve thought about doing this.” He whispered into her skin, causing shivers to spread through her body.

She pushed him backwards towards the bed and shoved him so he was sitting on the edge of it. “I think I might be able to guess,” she spoke seductively, and she carefully kneeled in front of him.

He leaned back against his elbows as he watched her, his eyes trailing down her body slowly. She leant forward and slowly moved her hands from his thighs up to his crotch, smirking at him as she felt his arousal through his jeans.

“I turn you on that much?” Y/N asked him as her hands absentmindedly stroked him through his clothes.

"Mhm," he hummed out, biting his lower lip slightly. Josh's hands gripped at the sheets, his hips slowly rocking against her hands as a quiet moan left his lips.

She giggled in pleasure at his reaction to her touch, moving her hands to his belt as she fiddled with the buckle. Once the belt was undone, Y/N quickly undid his jeans so she could pull them down, struggling slightly from her position.

Josh lifted his hips as much as he could to make it easier for her; once they were at his ankles, she lifted his feet to pull them off completely. Now only in his boxers, she went back to palming his arousal.

“Fuck Y/N!” He moaned, the feeling of her hands more noticeable through the thin fabric. “You gotta stop, or this is gonna be very disappointing for the both of us.”

When she didn’t stop, he reached down to grab her wrists to pull her hand away. His eyes were closed as he tried to catch his breath, still holding on to her wrist. “Shit… just gimme a minute.” Josh said between breaths.

Y/N pulled her wrist away from his grasp and stood up, moving close to him. She lifted his chin so he was looking at her. Without looking away, she moved even closer to straddle his legs. His hands moved to rest on the upper part of her thighs.

Josh leant forward so their lips touch, pulling back away she followed, lips still connected in a heated kiss. Y/N placed her hand behind his neck before dragging them up and into his hair, causing him to groan against her mouth. She rocked herself against him, gasping as she was able to feel his cock against her pussy between the two thin layers between them.

He hissed from the contact, wrapping one arm tightly around her hip so he could push her closer. His free hand moved from her thigh, gripping the back of your head and tangling itself into her hair.

“Fuck… I need you.” She said between kisses and small moans before pulling away to yank his jumper above his head, which he gladly raised his arms to help with.

In a quick motion, Josh picked Y/N up and turned to put her on the bed. He crawled on top of her so his body rested over hers, one hand gripping her hip, as the other rested above her head as he propped himself up.

“Wait!” She said as Josh started kissing the shell of her ear. “I need to take off the bodysuit.”

He laughed in her ear before responding, “You said you weren’t wearing any underwear right?”

“Yeah… why?”

Josh slowly pushed away from her ear and moved back to look Y/N  in the eyes, an evil smirk slowly forming on his face.

"Well, in that case..." He leaned back further, slowly sliding down her body and kneeling on the bed, “Spread your legs.”

She looked at him suspiciously but still slowly spread her legs for him. He moved further down on the bed, sitting back on his heels so he was level with her hips. He let his fingers slide along her thighs slowly, but then suddenly gripped the thin fabric of her bodysuit and pulled. Y/N's eyes grew wide as she heard a loud rip and felt the cold air on her now bare skin.

“Josh!” She yelled at him, earning a simple smirk in reply. Y/N was about to chastise him but was cut off by her own moan, caused by Josh’s tongue now massaging her folds.

He smiled and hummed into your folds at the sounds you made, causing you to moan louder from the vibration and reach down to pull his face closer. “Josh… please… oh fuck.”

Josh was relentless; as he continued to lap up her juices, he used his fingers to gently rub circles into her clit. His other hand then moved in to her entrance as he slowly inserted a single finger and slowly began to thrust into her.

“I-I’m gonna…” Y/N could barely speak as she was hitting her peak.

“Do it, lemme taste you.” He pulled back to speak before moving back, this time inserting a second finger as he licked. It was too much for Y/N, as she orgasmed not long after. She was thankful the music was so loud downstairs; hopefully it drowned out the sound of her scream.

“Mmhm,” Y/N barely heard Josh through her euphoria. “This might be my favourite taste.”

He lifted his head up from between her legs and looked into her eyes, asking a question without talking. Understanding what he meant, Y/N noted and allowed him to slide himself back on top of her. He paused for a moment, throwing of his boxers, reaching across to his bedside drawer, and pulled out a condom, making sure it was on, before he fully propped himself up above her.

“Are you sure?” He asked verbally this time, giving her a chance to back out as he lined himself up with her cunt.

“Please just fuck me.”

“With pleasure.” With that, he carefully inserted himself, closing his eyes in pleasure, “Shit Y/N, you’re so tight.”

He went slowly, giving her a chance to readjust to his size, stopping once he was fully inserted. Eventually Y/N started moving her hips to his in little thrusts, “I need you to move.”

Slowly he pulled his cock out of her cunt almost to the tip before suddenly slamming himself back, causing Y/N’s back to arch as she screamed out in pleasure. As he found his rhythm, she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, creating a new angle that allowed him to go deeper.

"Fuck, shit.. go faster." She could barely speak between moans, as she felt the pressure building again.

Josh happily obeyed her and picked up the pace, slamming into her harder and faster. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment before Y/N pulled him down into a heated kiss as his thrusts continued.

A low moan escaped Josh's lips as their lips met once more. Neither of them were thinking clearly anymore, too consumed in their own primal lust. He wanted her, all of her.

He pulled out for a moment, gripping her bodysuit from where he’d torn it previously. His muscles tensed as he pulled it apart again; it split upwards, exposing her entire front. With some quick manoeuvring, Josh was able to pull her arms and legs out of the tight fabric, leaving her completely naked.

“Oh god, Y/N, you’re so fucking beautiful." He said before entering her cunt again, thrusting far more erratically than before. When Josh felt his arms begin to give, he held onto Y/N’s waist and flipped them so she was now on top. “Ride me, baby.”

She took a breath, readjusted herself, and slowly began to rock. The feeling of Y/N slowly rocking over him caused a low moan to escape his lips, his fingers digging into her hips.

“Josh… I think gonna cum..." Y/N moaned out as the pressure increased again, indicating she was near her peak.

“Me too… Just keep moving,” he groaned out, pushing her down onto him by her hips. She moved faster and faster, chasing the high that she knew was coming.

Y/N threw her head back as her second orgasm ripped through her; she heard Josh groan as her cunt clenched around his cock. He came not soon after, the tightness causing him to spill into the condom. When she came down from her orgasm, she collapsed on top of him; her body felt numb, and she could barely catch her breath.

After pulling out of her, Josh gently pushed Y/N of him so she was lying at her side. “Just lay there a sec; I’ll be right back.”

She watched him stand from the bed, still completely naked, and make his way into his bathroom. He came back moments later with two glasses of water and a towel draped over his shoulder.

“Here, sit up and drink.” Josh said as he gave her his hand to help pull her upwards before handing her one of the glasses. As she drank, he parted her legs again and tenderly wiped her with the towel, making sure she would be comfortable in the morning.

Once he finished wiping her, he moved to his drawer and pulled out a T-shirt and two boxers. Josh walked back over to Y/N and helped her place his shirt over her shoulders and slide his boxers over her legs. After putting the second pair of boxers on himself, he lay back down next to her.

“Shouldn’t you get back to the party?” She asked as Josh pulled her to his side. “You are the host after all.”

“Nah, Hannah and Beth can deal with the guests,” he replied, pulling the covers over the both of them. “I much prefer this to any party.”

When she hummed in agreement and closed her eyes, Josh smiled softly and leant down to kiss her head before also closing his eyes. They could hear the muffled beat of the party still happening downstairs as they both slipped into sleep, Y/N resting her head on his chest as he held her close.

'Cherry' | Fem!Y/N x Lyutsifer Safin

Masterlist Y/N is working undercover at a Strip Club in Vegas when she encounters Safin meeting with a potential supplier for his newest concoction, usually a top performing agent she suddenly finds herself being unable to tell a lie. (Word Count: 2553)

Warnings: Guns, Blood, Death, Drug usage, Drink spiking (but not by Safin)

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“I said this was a terrible idea...” Y/N said as she adjusted the tight leather dress she’d been forced to wear.

“We just need to get the benefactor’s name; it shouldn’t take much longer.” Q explained as he checked his surveillance gear; he usually didn’t leave London, but Y/N had specifically requested Q join her as she trusted him the most.

“It’s been two weeks, Q...”

“Apparently someone’s booked the VIP booth tonight, so this might be the last night you have to do.”

MI6 had been trailing a possible drug ring that operated in Las Vegas; rumours had spread a drug that completely erases a person's ability to lie, making them more controllable. As one of the youngest female agents, Y/N was assigned to go undercover at one of the target strip clubs and figure out who was funding the operation. They’d found a job at a club called ‘Bunny Girls’ and inserted Y/N in as Cherry, the club’s newest waitress.

“Anyway, you’re running late for your shift, so go go go.” As he spoke, Q pushed her out of the small building he’d been operating from. Once Y/N was outside, she huffed before walking around the corner and entering the club she was undercover at.

"Cherry, just the girl I want to see.” The club owner greeted her as she entered the dressing room, “The VIP booth is booked tonight, so I want all your attention on our big spenders.”

Y/N bat her eyes, taking on the role of Cherry once again. “Sure thing, boss,” she said, earning an appreciative look from the owner. Once he left, she sat down in her chair and started getting ready.

When the club opened an hour later, Y/N had her hair curled and her makeup completed, the glitter on her eyes making them sparkle under the club. Standing, she readjusted her dress one more time before making her way on to the main club floor.

“Hey Cherry!” John, the barman, greeted her as she stepped behind the bar. “You dressed up pretty tonight.”

She repressed the urge to roll her eyes; ever since she’d gone undercover, John had taken every opportunity to shamelessly flirt with her. According to the other girls, he took it as tradition to sleep with all the new starters.

“I’m dressed the same as I usually do, John,” Y/N stated, and she started getting the VIP buckets prepped, filling them with ice. 

He simply smiled at her. “I know..." John titled his down as she crouched to pull out the bottles for the ice buckets. “But I think you get hotter every night.”

“Does that line usually work?” She stood back up and started placing the bottle in the buckets.

“Don’t pretend it isn’t working on you.” He leans into her space as he speaks; Y/N backs up slightly.

“I’ve got a job to do so…” As she speaks, she gestures to the two buckets she needed to take to the VIP booth.

"Well, before you go, at least taste test my newest drink.” She sees a shot glass slide across the counter in front of her. “It’s cherry-flavoured.”

Y/N is about to say no; tell him to fuck off with his desperate attempts to seduce her, but instead she just sighs and drinks the shot quickly so she can continue this night without any more problems. He’s right, it does taste like cherries; it’s sweet and a little tart, but Y/N still finds herself enjoying it. Placing the glass down, she turns to John, “Happy now?”

“Very, now go on; we can talk later.” He had a strange look on his face, but Y/N decided to just leave it until later. She walks back out of the bar while carrying the two buckets, heading to the VIP booth.

In the booth are what seems to be two different groups of men, clearly some ‘business’ discussing some type of criminal partnership. One group Y/N recognises as an infamous casino owner and drug dealer in Las Vegas, but the other is an enigma. Her eyes scan the second group; they seem more professional than the first group. The first group greets her with cheers and whistles while they keep their expressions guarded.

Sitting in the middle of the booth are the two leaders of the groups. The first group’s leader is an older man, dressed in what you’d expect a mob boss to dress in. The second is younger but still mature-looking; his face is covered in scarring that reminds Y/N of lighting; it’s eerily beautiful. His blue eyes are calculating as he looks at her; he seems almost amused.

Shaking off his gaze, Y/N retakes her ‘Cherry’ persona: “Hello Gentlemen, welcome to Bunny Girls; I’m Cherry, and I’ll be your waitress this evening; anything you need, just give me a call.” She finishes her introduction with a flirty wink.

The scarred man doesn’t speak to her instead choosing to whisper to his companion, who looks at her. Instead, the other leader turns to her with a leer. “This is why I like this place; they always give us the pretty ones.”

He gestures to the space between him and the scarred man, “Come sit with us, darling.”

Y/N hesitates for a moment and glances at the scarred man subconsciously, who simply gives her a subtle nod. As she moves towards the empty space beside him, her heart beats faster. She feels the man’s gaze on her, causing shivers to spread through her body.

The other man put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him, leaning in close. “What’s a pretty thing like you working in a place like this?”

Her body feels hot suddenly, and thinking it’s just from the men's body heat, she ignores it. “Just making sure you lovely gentlemen enjoy your night.” She answers, but a part of her feels compelled to keep speaking; she bites her lip to stop herself.

“Not what I mean, darling,” the man responds, “I mean, how’d a girl like you end up here and not under the arm of some billionaire?”

Without thinking, she blurts out an answer: "Well, I didn’t want to work here, but my boss made me.”

‘Why are you saying this?’ Y/N thinks confused with herself; her mind feels cloudy, and her body starts to loosen. She keeps thinking back to that cherry-flavoured shot she’d drank. ‘Shit… I’ve been drugged.

The scarred man leans back to look at her; his eyes suggest he’s thinking of something. “Interesting…” His voice is deep and hoarse with a thick Russian accent. “And why did he make you work here?”

“We need information on a potential drug ring; the drug currently circulating could compromise The Crown’s security.” She needed to get out of here before she’d kept talking, but she couldn’t move.

He leaned in closer, assessing her carefully. Close enough to smell, she inhaled sharply—florals and something else. Y/N felt out of control; her body wasn’t computing with her mind anymore. He spoke in a low whisper, “And why would a girl like you care about the safety of the crown?”

This was bad; it was clear this man knew Y/N had been drugged. “She’s a goddam spy!” The other man yelled alarm as he pulled his hand away and stood, his men following suit. He pulled out his pistol and aimed it towards her.

The scarred man's smirk widened as he watched the scene play out, the revelation of her identity causing a shift in the room. The other man is now pointing a weapon at her. He remained calm, unmoving. He was amused by the development, intrigued by the young women.

"A spy? How intriguing." He leaned forward, his eyes locking with hers, his voice dripping with a hint of mockery.

"You have quite the nerve, Miss..." He let the question hang in the air, waiting for her response.

“Y/L/N, Y/N Y/L/N.” She said through gritted teeth, still trying to resist the effects of the drugs, forcing her body to stand.

Safin chuckled softly, appreciating her determination. "Miss Y/L/N..." He savoured the way her name rolled off his tongue. "How interesting, a spy from MI6.”

He watched her struggle to stand, her attempts to resist the effects of the drugs in vain. His eyes scanned her figure and the way her body moved uncontrollably. There was something so enticing about the way she was fighting, the way she was losing her composure.

He stood slowly, walking towards her. His voice was low, almost seductive. Y/N was overwhelmed with how this man was able to effect her, but trying to regain her dignity, she held her head high and responded, “You never introduced yourself, sir.”

"Ah, forgive me, where are my manners?” He spoke, standing to move in front of her, his eyes predatory. “I am Doctor Lyutsifer Safin.”

She stepped back from him in fear but froze when she felt the end of the gun. The other man was still aiming towards her. The man she now knew as Safin watched her carefully, “Leave us; we will discuss our business later.” He spoke to the other group, not taking his eyes off the young agent.

The other men left without hesitation, their gazes lingering on Safin and the young agent before they exited the VIP booth. As soon as they were alone, the atmosphere changed drastically. The club around them was still alive—the music, the laughter, the dancing. She could hear the announcer introduce another girl as the crowd cheered. But in their isolated vicinity, it was almost quiet, almost intimate.

He took another step towards her. “You... don’t know who I am, do you?”

“Should I?" She couldn’t move, allowing him to take a mother step forward, their chests almost touching. 

He smiled slightly amused by her response, reaching a hand to trace his finger along her jawline, his touch as light as a feather. “You’re the one undercover, spying on my people.”

“I was given a very... limited mission assignment.” She explained, giving up on stopping herself when it was clear nothing could, “We didn’t know who we were looking for.”

His touch became more purposeful, fingertips gliding down her arm, feeling her body shiver under his touch. His eyes roamed over her face, observing her closely. "Who sent you here, Miss Y/L/N?"

“I think you already know," she spoke, trying to hold onto the last piece of information her drugged mind hadn’t given up.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and his hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer. His voice was a whisper; she could feel his breath on her neck. “I want you to say it out loud.”

Y/N clenched her eyes shut, unable to hold back any longer, “I work for MI6.”

She heard Safin hum seemingly pleased with her response. His grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh just a little harder.

He leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching her neck, his breath hot and heavy against her skin.

"Good girl..." he murmured. "Now tell me, are you alone in this operation?”

"I...” she could feel herself speak, about to expose the entire operation, when another dancer, Honey, stepped into the booth. “Cherry, you’re needed at the bar.”

Safin's eyes met those of the dancer. His gaze hardened at the unexpected intrusion, but he let go of Y/N. He took a step back, looking between the two women. "Miss Y/L/N and I are still having our conversation."

Sensing an opportunity to escape, Y/N moved to the entrance of the booth before speaking, “I should go see what they need; it was a pleasure meeting you, Doctor Safin.”

She left before he could react, but instead of going to the bar, she went to the dressing room. Grabbing her bag, she escaped through the backdoors, hoping to reconvene with Q. As she moved through the parking lot, texting Q that she’d been compromised, a voice behind her made her freeze. “Going somewhere?”

As she turned, she came face to face with John, but his face was different from his usual personality. His eyes were dark and narrow as he stared at her. Her hand reached into her grab to grip her gun, and she spoke, “You drugged me.”

John chuckled at her accusation, clearly amused by her realisation. "Drugged you? I was simply making you comfortable.”

“What did you give me?” She asked, thankful the night air was helping to clear her head. “Where did you get it from?”

“A friend of mine hooked me up; it's... experimental, but most of the girls have enjoyed it.” John admitted no longer seeing the need to hide, taking a step forward.

As he began to approach, Y/N pulled her gun from her pocket, aiming at him. “Stay right there!”

John smirked at her, nearly laughing, “Give me a break; you’re just a stripper... what damage could you do?”

“You have no idea." She tried to steady her hand, but it still trembled slightly. She was coming down from the drug, but it’d still be a while.

Josh ignored the gun and began to run towards her, planning to ambush her and knock her down. He nearly reached her when suddenly his body fell and blood sprayed on her face. Y/N looked at her in confusion; she hadn’t fired.

Her eyes looked from her gun down to John's body, breathing heavily from the adrenaline. She looked up from the body and was face-to-face once again with Safin. He was holding a small silenced pistol, the muzzle still smoking.

Y/N shuffles on her feet slightly under his intense stare. He seems allured by the crimson splatter now staining her face, stepping closer, causing her to take a step back. She’s still breathing heavily and tries to catch her breath.

“Most people would thank the person that saved their life.” He spoke as he calmly handed his gun to his second in command.

“I had it handled.”

"Oh, I’m sure you did.” Safin replied almost mockingly.

A car’s horn sounded, causing Y/N to finally turn away from him; just down the road, she recognised the lights of Q’s car. Without speaking again, she sprinted down the street and flung the door open. Throwing her bag in, she was about to jump inside too, but she paused. Turning back for a moment, her eyes once again met the piercing blue of Lyutsifer Safin, and you both knew this wouldn’t be the last encounter.

As Y/N hopped into the car, she ignored Q’s rapid questions and closed her eyes. She sighed as she ran through the last hour through her head; her face was still wet with John’s blood, but she didn’t have the energy to wipe it off. Resting her head on the window, she fell asleep as her friend quickly drove them away from Las Vegas and towards their extraction point.

Safin watched as the car you entered pulled away and quickly raced from the scene; it was only as the car turned the corner did he finally look away. He briefly looked at the body on the ground before he began giving orders to his men. “Get rid of the body,” he stated as he began to walk away, “and find me anything you can on Y/N Y/L/N”.

AN: Part 2 out now!