#HE SAID HE WAS COMING BACK THIRTEEN DAYS AGO WHERE THE FUCK IS HE

[iolypse]

DONDE ESTA MISSA⁉️ ONDE É MISSA⁉️ WHERE IS MISSA⁉️ OÙ EST MISSA⁉️

[watchmegetobsessed]

TROPHY WIFE

A/N: it's been quite like a drought with me, i know, but writing just didn't come easy to me lately. but i finally felt inspired to write and this is the outcome so enjoy!

PAIRING: CEO!older!Harry x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

SUMMARY: You're not what one would expect a CEO's girlfriend to be like. You're not like all those trophy wives. But does it bother Harry? That with you it's not yachts and fancy drinks and modern luxury, just wildflowers, mismatched furniture and shared finances.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

There’s nothing better than waking up next to Harry.

Okay, there are some levels in that as well, because you truly love it when he is cuddling you and peppering your shoulder with kisses, being a total sweetheart, but there is just something even better when he wakes up needy so he ends up fucking you so well first thing in the morning that you keep thinking about it the whole day.

Today it’s the latter and you’re so glad about that. Tangled in the sheets, sweaty and eager to get more and more from each other, you just keep moaning his name until relief washes over you and it’s not even seven in the morning.

“I love you. So… so… so much,” he murmurs against your lips as he pulls you into his arms.

“I love you too,” you smirk and he just keeps kissing you.

When you first met Harry three years ago you would have never thought this is how you’d spend your mornings with him one day. He’s ten years older than you and it was a typical ‘he fell first’ situation where you tried to deny your feelings for him for as long as possible.

You thought you were as far apart as the poles, Harry was, and still is, a millionaire CEO, a true business man, living a life you could only dream about before. You, on the other hand, just finished your master’s degree back then and started working for a marketing agency that was linked with Harry’s company. You still remember the moment you laid your eyes on him, he was already looking at you with an expression that had your stomach in a knot.

He asked you out that day, not wasting any time and you said no. You said no exactly thirteen times before finally giving in and going on a date with him and you never let go of each other since then.

Now you live together and even though people tend to think that you just want to be his trophy wife and use him for his money, they can’t be more wrong. You still have your own job, you fight Harry to pay for groceries every other time and you tell him off every time he tries to give you money for nothing.

You’re equal and you never plan to use yourself just because you’re dating Harry.

He is still wrapped around you like a koala bear when you check the time and realize you better start get ready or you won’t make it to work on time.

“Uh, I need to get up,” you groan and just laugh when you feel him holding you even tighter. “Harry!”

“I want to hold you a bit more!” he whines like a child.

“I have work!”

Finally, your manage to peel him off of you and head over to the bathroom, feeling his pleased look as he follows you walk around naked. You like to tease him and all him a creep, but you both know you love it how obsessed he is with you even when you’re your truly natural self.

You’re standing in front of the bathroom mirror in your robe when he saunters into the room and leaning against the tiled wall he watches you apply your mascara in awe.

“You didn’t forget about tonight, right?” he asks, his eyes wandering down your body before returning to your face.

“Nope, fancy cocktails with your fancy friends.” You give him a teasing smirk.

“And you’ll have to wear a fancy dress,” he adds.

“I know.”

“I got you one, by the way.”

“Harry, you know you don—“

“I know I don’t have to buy you shit, but you also know I love spoiling you sometimes. The dress will be in your closet when you get home,” he states, all bossy and confident and you feel the tingles in your tummy from this side of him. It’s not often he uses his dominance on you outside of the bedroom, but whenever he does, it’s always the right amount to make you weak for him.

He pushes away from the wall and walking behind you he presses a kiss to the back of your head before walking towards the door.

“I have a last minute meeting, but I will be here to pick you up at seven.” And with that he walks out.

You leave from work early to get ready for the evening. Luckily, your work is pretty flexible and it allows you to work your schedule around the social events Harry asks you out to every once in a while.

It’s not often, though. You never talked about it, but it’s like both of you knows it’s not your favorite way to spend time together. Truth is, you don’t quite fit into the circles Harry runs in. You’re not talking about his close friends, they are amazing, Sarah and Mitch are wonderful people and you’d jump to have a double date with them anytime for example. It’s the outer circle, the people Harry doesn’t necessarily consider his friends, but he makes his rounds with them every once in a while to keep up a somewhat positive relationship with them, because they are loosely also business connections and he needs them.

Tonight is one of these events, some kind of fancy rooftop party for whatever occasion where the men are smoking cigars and drink expensive bourbon while the women look good, sip on their cocktails and gossip for hours. It’s not quite your setting, but it’s not that painful every once in a while.

When you arrive home you quickly get ready, gather your hair in a sleek bun, touch up your makeup and then walk into your closet to find an elegant black dress hanging there, waiting for you to put it on.

Harry knows your taste well, it’s not over the top, but the open back and high slit brings just enough spice to the look. You pair it with the diamond earrings he got you for your latest anniversary and when you look in the mirror you feel like a boujie, quite hot version of yourself, just what you need for tonight.

At 6:57 Harry texts you.

HARRY: You ready? I’m waiting for you.

Y/N: Be there in a minute.

You slip on your heels, grab your purse and then make your way downstairs. As you’re walking across the hall you already see Harry standing by his car, waiting for you with a huge bouquet of flowers.

All wildflowers.

You’re all smiles when you step outside and approach him.

“You look amazing, baby,” he smiles as he gathers you in one arm, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Need to look fine for my man,” you chuckles, patting his chest and running your hands down the lapels of his chic suit.

“This is for you,” he hands you the bouquet and you can finally have a better look at the colorful flowers.

It’s been an ongoing thing between the two of you, Harry has never given you any roses. After your very first date he just knew you weren’t the kind who wants the expensive rose boxes women beg their partners for. You’re different, unique and he knew you appreciate the beauty in things others might consider not fitting. Wildflowers are not quite what women who are dating a millionaire want, but it’s definitely what brings you joy.

“It’s beautiful, thank you,” you smile up at him and steal another kiss before he opens the car door for you and helps you into the passenger seat.

The event is what you expected, what you always expect. You make your rounds with Harry, he keeps a hand on your waist at all times, always making sure you’re alright, you have something to drink and he keeps asking if you’re cold, but it’s a warm late summer evening, so he has nothing to worry about.

At one point you part ways, it’s how it always goes, the men gather and the women form their circle as well.

“I swear, I was ready to jump off that boat and swim to the shore!” Riah, one of the wives gestures wildly as she tells a story about their latest trip to Italy, making everyone laugh.

The boat here means their luxury yacht and the reason why she wanted to leave was because they ran out of her favorite champagne. Relatable, right?

“Anyway, it was nice, we’re going on another trip next month. Y/N, wouldn’t you and Harry want to come with us?” she asks, putting you into the spotlight.

“Oh, um… I can’t really just go on a vacation on such a short notice. We usually put in our days off about two months in advance.”

The looks you get are worth a million dollars, truly. There’s confusion, pity, they obviously don’t understand why you’re working when you have Harry. They are all typical trophy wives, they spend their days shopping, going to the spa, spending the money they didn’t earn.

You don’t judge them, everyone gets to live their life the way they want, but they do judge you and that’s what irks you.

“Ah, I see,” Riah forces a smile to her face. “Well, next time… let’s plan it out like a year ahead.”

You notice the edge in her words but choose not to call her out and just nod in agreement.

“Hey, want to grab another drink?” Noora suggests you, saving you from the conversation that flows to the upcoming Fashion Week, something you will probably no attend.

Noora is the only person you get along well in this circle. She is a lot like the other women, she doesn’t work and she is definitely kept by her husband, but she is not blatantly ignorant towards people who are different from her.

“Don’t listen to Riah, she’s been a bit mouthy since she found out her cousin’s wedding cost more than hers.”

You can’t help but smile at her comment as the two of you walk up to the bar.

“I don’t know why they are always so shocked by my answers, I’ve been around for a while now and they still don’t understand me.”

“Because they don’t want to. They are happy in their little bubble,” Noora shrugs. “Just let it go. It’s not worth getting upset, you’ll just have to get through these nights.”

Nodding you let her bring something else up to talk about, but as your gaze wanders over to Harry your thoughts continue to swirl around.

He used to go on these random vacations all the time, before he started dating you he ran in these circles a lot more often, you know for a fact he went sailing to Italy at least five times a year and those weren’t considered vacations, he spent months away in Thailand, Dubai and in all corners of Europe.

It’s not like you don’t travel. You do and you love it too, but you’re also working and it doesn’t let you take two weeks off every other month. You’ve had plenty of adventures together, but you planned them all ahead and you also insisted sharing at least part of the cost. Your job pays well, but not ‘spend a month cruising on a yacht on the Adriatic Sea’ well.

Is it possible Harry misses it? That he wants you to be like these women? Free and ready to get on a private jet anytime he wants to drink his morning coffee by the Eiffel Tower? Does he want you to be his trophy wife?

His sixth sense is on, his eyes find you as you’re drowning deep in your thoughts and he shoots you a soft smile, mouthing: “You alright?”

You force a smile on your face and just nod, but you know it didn’t convince him at all, however this is not the time and place to have this discussion.

As the night carries on you just keep adding to your list of things that could possibly be an inconvenience for Harry.

Your job, wanting to be somewhat financially independent, your lack of enthusiasm for the social conformities that women in these circles are held against…

Arriving back home the feeling just intensifies, looking around the penthouse you notice how much it has changed since you’ve moved in. Before it was all modern luxury, precisely decorated, something out of an interior design magazine.

Half of the furniture has been changes, there are second hand pieces, little nick-nacks all around the place, a lot more colors and a lot less modernity.

Walking into your closet you step out of your heels and pull off your dress when Harry appears.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks. He doesn’t question if there’s something to talk about, he knows there is, because he knows you so well.

You take a few moments to think about how to put it all into words. Grabbing a big shirt you pull it on before turning to face Harry.

“Do you… Do you want me to be your trophy wife?”

Pure confusion takes over his handsome face as his eyebrows shoot up.

“Explain this a bit more to me, baby,” he asks as he casually walks closer. You know he wants to touch you, pull you into his arms, but he wants to give you space to voice your thoughts, so he just gently runs his knuckles down the side of your face.

“Does it ever bother you that I’m not like those wives?”

“In what way do you think you should be like them?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“It’s just… We don’t go on random yacht cruises, our home has mismatched furniture because I didn’t want to get rid of some of my stuff, I’m not… I don’t stay home, I have a job that I don’t want to give up… Do you want me to be more like them?”

He finally understands what this is about.

Takin your hand he pulls you out of the closet and sits on the edge of the bed, tugging you until you’re sitting on his lap, your knees on either sides of him. His hands rest on your naked thigh, soothingly running up and down as he looks you in the eyes.

“Baby, all I want is you. The way you are. No changes.”

The first wave of relief washes over you and then he continues.

“Do I want to travel the world as much as possible? Of course, but I also love that you want to work and build your own career, I love how ambitious you are and I wouldn’t want you to give it up just so we can go on yacht cruises every weekend,” he chuckles softly. With a sheepish smile you place your hands to his chest, feeling the heat radiating through his dress shirt underneath your palms.

“I love our home, I love the mismatched furniture, it’s a piece of you merged into a piece of me. I don’t want you to stay at home. Or I do, but only if that’s what you want to do. I want you to be happy. Are you?”

“I am,” you nod without hesitation.

“Then I’m happy too. I love you and I do want you to be my wife. The trophy part? Not so much.”

Now it feels silly you even thought about all of this. Harry never gave you a reason to believe he wants something different, you shouldn’t have let yourself be fooled.

“I love you too,” you smile at him before leaning in to kiss his soft lips. “And I love our life,” you mumble after several kisses.

“I love it too. The wildflowers, the secondhand furniture, our fights every time I try to pay for something,” he grins at you, hi army caging you into his embrace as he pulls you tight against him. “I love every unique piece of you and of us.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Eighteen

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Violence. A lot more violence than usual. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.3k

A/N : if you haven't already voted for what you want to see me write next, you've got a day and a half left

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

MASTER LIST

Chapter Eighteen

It felt like the world was unravelling around him, like he was coming apart at the seams. While he’d said the words hours ago, it wasn’t until that moment that he started to feel the weight of them. He loved you. He loved you in a way that he’d never allowed himself to love anyone else. He loved you in a way that was so deep, so visceral that if he lost you, he knew he’d never recovered. 

You were inexorably linked, two halves of one soul. You were everything to him and Billy knew he couldn’t go back to the empty, bleak life he’d been living, no matter how many times he’d tried to convince himself overwise over the last couple of months.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, running a red light to get to Krista’s building. Frank and Madani were talking but, to Billy, it all just sounded like static in his ears.

He couldn’t lose you.

He wouldn’t.

Pulling up, he killed the engine and before anyone could think to speak or question, he was out of the car, clearing the steps to the building two at a time. Frank and Madani had to rush to keep up with him, each still talking, calling after him. But Billy didn’t care about waiting, about figuring out ‘what to do’. No, Billy knew what he was going to do; he was going to make Krista talk, he was going to make her understand why fucking with you had been the worst decision of her life

It was a blur and, for a few minutes he lost himself; he kicked the door open and the next thing he knew, he had his hands around her throat, with Frank yelling at him to calm down.

“Where is she?” The voice that left his lips wasn’t quite his own.

“Gone. I don’t know where,” Krista answered, grinning despite the grip he had on her. “You’ll never find her. Just like you never found Mary.”

Somehow Frank managed to wrench Billy away but Krista didn’t even try to escape. She was enjoying the scene playing out before her, she was taking pleasure in his pain, glad that she’d had some small part in causing it.

“Mary?” It was Madani who spoke, gun drawn, stepping forwards. “Mary Poots?”

“Poor little Mary,” Krista said in a sing-song tone, barely holding back a laugh. “You thought you could replace me with someone so... fragile...”

“You killed Mary Poots?” Madani tried to continue her line of questioning despite the fact that Krista’s attention was fully on Billy.

“Now you’re going to lose the new one,” Krista carried on, all eyes on her. “I’ll take the next one, too. And the one after that. All of them. Every last one, until I’m all you have left.”

“You’re fucking insane,” Billy spat and that drew a laugh from Krista.

“If I am, it’s because of you, because you infected me...” she laughed again. “Or, no, I suppose it was Layla... not that it matters. You fuck up everything you touch, don’t you, Billy?”

“Just tell me where she is!” Billy demanded.

He lunged towards her, but Frank was too quick, too strong, wrapping an arm around him and holding Billy back.

“I don’t know,” she answered, still smiling, seemingly unbothered. “I never asked and he never told. You shouldn’t worry, I’m sure she’ll make a beautiful bride. Her fiance was so happy to finally have her back.”

Billy snapped and snarled, struggling against Frank and against himself, his last shred of control quickly starting to split and fray. He wanted to kill her, wanted to do what he knew he should have done months ago.

“She’s not worth it, Bill,” Frank told him, trying to pull him away.

“You’ve just confessed to murder in front of a Federal Agent,” Madani finally piped up, earning a laugh from Krista, before her attention shifted to Frank and Billy. “If Justin Drake has her and they’re still in the city, we’ll be able to track her down.”

“And what if she’s not still in the city?” Billy snapped. “There’s only a few hours until dawn...”

“We’re going to find her,” Madani answered, her tone sharpening to match his.

“And what about her?” Frank dared to ask, drawing all eyes back to Krista.

“I can send someone to pick her up.”

Krista finally moved, attempting to bolt for the door but, somehow, Billy managed to wrench free of Frank’s grip and lunged for her, knocking into her so hard that they both fell to the ground.

She ripped and tore at him with her nails, sinking her fangs into his shoulder and not letting go until his elbow connected with her face. They rolled, Billy ending up on top before she caught him across the face, clawing at him. She rolled him, straddling him as she landed another hit across his face while Billy’s hands gripped her throat.

By the time Frank pulled her away, they were both bloody and bruised, each bearing the marks of each other’s hatred. She kicked and screamed against Frank’s grip as he pushed her face first into the wall, pinning her there while Madani cuffed her to a radiator.

“You think that’s gonna hold her?” Frank asked, eying Krista as she dropped to the ground.

“It’s all we can do for now,” Madani answered. “We need to move.”

“She needs to die,” Billy snarled.

It felt like his body was vibrating with rage, like the thing inside of him had finally won. But, before he could move, Frank was on him, forcing him backwards, hands shoving him so hard that he knocked the breath from Billy’s lungs.

“You wanna waste time on her while your girl’s out there? You wanna throw her life away and yours just so you can settle a score with this crazy bitch?” He barked in Billy’s face, shoving him again. Billy didn’t have an answer. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now fucking move, this guy isn’t gonna find himself.”

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

It felt like the world had tilted on its axis and gripping the edge of the table was all you could do to keep yourself from falling. It had never made sense why he wanted you, why he’d been so adamant; you weren’t anything special, you weren’t worth anything (certainly not when compared to the amount of money your parents owed him). But, now you finally had answers, it made even less sense.

He was doing this because you looked like a distant relative who you shared only a fraction of your DNA with. 

He was doing this because she had denied him, just like you were trying to deny him.

He wanted you to be a vampire, to spend an eternity at his side.

“No.” The word fell from your mouth with a certainty that you didn’t feel.

“You don’t have a choice,” he retorted, already sounding like he was done with your denials and insolence.

“Yes, I do,” you answered back, remembering all the times Billy had told you as much.

You hadn’t believed it at the time, you’d thought that it was just a line, something he was telling you to make you feel better but, now, faced with someone who wanted to remove your choice, your agency, you realised that Billy had been right all along. Lifting your head and sitting a little straighter, you silently promised yourself that you weren’t going to cower before him, you weren’t going to let this sorry excuse for a man decide your future.

“You can do what you want to me. I’ll never be yours,” you told him. “Even if it takes my whole life, I’ll do everything I can to escape you.”

“I don’t know what you think you can -”

“I’m not afraid of you anymore,” you interrupted, not letting him get the upper hand, not letting him treat you like the naive child you had been when you last sat across from him. “You will never get what you want from me.”

Anger flickered across his face and it took him more than a few seconds to tamp it down again. Obviously he hadn’t been expecting such resistance from you.

But then came the laugh, a sound that caused dread to coil in your stomach.

“Like I told you; I’m a patient man and I have an eternity to bend you to my will,” he sai, his voice softer than his expression. “There might be nothing I can do to you anymore, but I already told you that your sister, her children...”

“You won’t hurt them.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because you’ll lose your leverage over me if you do,” you answered, trying to hide the discomfort in your voice, hating that you were gambling with your sister’s safety. “And if you think I’m being difficult now, you’ve got no idea how much worse I can be.”  

Drake let out another callous huff of laughter, a twisted smile pulling at his lips.

“You’re right, but there are other ways to hurt you, aren’t there? Other people close to your heart...” he trailed off for a moment, letting his words sink in. “What about William Russo or his little human friend? Karen is it?”

As much as you wanted to remain defiant, the thought of anything happening to Billy made you feel sick to your stomach. You couldn’t let anything happen to him. You wouldn’t. 

Before you realised you were doing it, your hand was gripping the knife in front of you. 

It took him by surprise when you lunged across the table, aiming the blunt knife towards his chest despite knowing that it wouldn’t be enough to kill him. You didn’t care. The outcome of this didn’t matter; either he would die or you would. Either way, Billy would be safe.

Plates and glasses smashed as you half-fell over the table, tipping his chair back and knocking him to the floor, you on top of him.

His fingers gripped your wrist, stopping you as you tried to bring the knife down, holding the tip only a few inches from his chest.

There was noise all around you and it wasn’t until some time later that you realised it was you, that you were screaming, telling him you were going to kill him, that you wouldn’t stop until he was dead.

The struggle felt like it lasted a lifetime when, in reality, a few seconds after you’d cleared the table, one of his goons had arrived and pulled you off him. Kicking and screaming, you were carried back to your room and thrown inside.

You landed with an awkward thud, pain radiating up your bad arm despite the cast. But, seconds later, you were back on your feet, banging against the door, trying to get out, only to find that you were locked in. But that didn’t stop you from continuing to kick and scream at the door, telling him that you were going to kill him, that the only way he’d stop you was by killing you.

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

After they’d left Josie’s, Frank had text Karen to let her know what was going on and where they were headed. She decided to stick around and keep asking questions around the bar, making sure that nothing had been missed but, after half an hour or so, she decided to call it a night and head home.

She left with your suitcase, having stuffed Bill the Beagle back inside, rolling it along the sidewalk behind her. Her apartment was only a couple of blocks away and, despite the late hour, she’d never felt particularly unsafe walking home from Josie’s.

“Hey, uh, excuse me Miss?” A voice rang out.

Not thinking, Karen stopped and turned, seeing a large man dressed in a dark suit heading towards her.

“Can I help you with something?” She asked, finally noticing the limo parked in front of Josie’s.

It couldn’t be a coincidence; Josie’s wasn’t the sort of place anyone would want to leave a limousine, especially not twice in one night. Karen took a step back, realisation causing her blood to turn ice cold in her veins.

“Yeah, I think that suitcase belongs to a friend of mine,” he answered, slowly stepping towards her. 

The moment he started to move, Karen reached into her purse, trying to find her gun but not taking her eyes off of him for even a second.

“Funny,” she answered, “because this case happens to belong to a friend of mine.” 

Gun in hand, she lifted it, pointing it straight at him, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. She couldn’t be sure if he was a vampire or not, but she wasn’t going to take any chances, and aimed the gun at his chest. It might not kill him, but it would definitely slow him down.

“Where is she?” Karen demanded.

“It’s none of your concern,” he answered back, daring to take the slightest step but hesitating  again when Karen lifted the gun a little higher, aiming for his heart.

“I said, where is she?” She repeated, taking a step of her own.

“She’s with her fiance and if I were you, I’d just hand over the case.”

Karen opened her mouth about to refuse again when he moved, clearing the distance between them with a supernatural speed, knocking the gun from her grasp and into the road. As she moved to grab the suitcase, he struck her with the back of his hand, knocking her off balance and sending her to the pavement.

Karen scrambled for the gun but, by the time she had it, he was almost back at the limo, throwing the case into the passenger side before moving around to the driver's door.

As he started up the engine, Karen noticed a taxi and quickly tried to flag it down. When it didn’t stop, she stepped out into the street in front of it, making it stop for her.

“Follow that limo,” she told the driver as she climbed into the back.

“Listen, lady, I -” the driver started to refuse.

“No, you listen, the piece of shit that owns that limo has kidnapped a friend of mine and I have a gun, so you can either follow that limo and get paid at the end of this, or I’m going to have to take your taxi.”

The threat hung in the air for a few seconds. She could see the driver wearily eyeing her in the rearview, no doubt taking note of the gun in her lap and her split lip.

“Alright, fine, just don’t go doin’ anything crazy,” he muttered before starting after the limo.

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

They were barely outside of Krista’s building when Frank got the call. Billy watched as his friend's expression dropped from one of calm control to absolute rage in less than five seconds. He’d been busy listening to Madani, to all the measures she was putting in place to try and track you down; tracking the limo, credit cards, checking hotel guest lists. It only vaguely occurred to him that it wasn’t until then that he heard your so-called fiance’s name for the first time tonight.

Justin Drake.

Not that it mattered what his name was; he’d be a dead man the moment Billy got his hands on him.

But, for a few seconds, all of that stopped mattering and his attention was fixed on Frank.

“Are you okay?” he demanded of the person on the other end of the call. “Did he hurt you?” There was a pause for an answer that Billy couldn’t quite make out over the sound of traffic. “Where are you? No - no, stay outside and wait for us. We’ll be there in five minutes.”

“What’s going on?” Billy asked the moment Frank ended the call.

“He sent one of his goons after the suitcase. Karen followed him back to the Park View hotel, she thinks that’s where he’s got her.” Frank explained.

A second later Madani was relaying that information on her call, but Billy was already moving for the car, and Frank was quick to follow.

“Wait, I can get back up and -” Madani started, falling into step behind the men.

“We ain’t waiting,” Frank answered.This time it was his turn to be angry. They’d gone near Karen and, now, it was personal for him. 

The conversation continued as they got in the car and carried on until they arrived at the hotel; Madani wanted to wait for back-up. Billy and Frank didn’t. It was that simple. They weren’t going to wait.

“You can help us, or you can stay here,” Frank told her, though his attention was immediately focused on Karen the moment he saw her, his blood starting to boil at the sight of her split lip. “We’re killin’ this fucker.”

“Yeah we are,” Billy responded.

Frank gave Karen some quick instructions, telling her to go wait in the car and to stay out of the way. He tried to tell Madani to wait with her but the Homeland Agent refused, trying one last time to convince them to just wait a few more minutes for back-up to arrive. Before she could even finish, Billy was moving past her and heading for the hotel’s entrance.

He moved through the lobby, drawing stares from everyone that looked his way; blood from the wounds that Krista had inflicted was still fresh on his clothes and he looked as if he’d just torn someone apart with his bare hands.

By the time he reached the front desk, there were already two members of the hotel security team standing there.

“I’m Agent Madani with Homeland Security,” she spoke before anyone else had the chance, and before Billy had the opportunity to do anything stupid. “You have a Justin Drake staying here, I need access to his rooms, now.” 

“I can’t just -” the receptionist started to answer.

“He has a woman with him up there, doesn’t he?” Madani asked, stepping up to the desk. “A woman that turned up earlier tonight?”

Billy took a step forward, getting ready to take matters into his own hands.

“I can’t reveal -” the receptionist tried again.

“He kidnapped her,” Billy snapped, “and he’s planning on hurting her. So you can either let us in peacefully, or we can make you.”

The security guards moved closer but then, at the sight of Frank stepping forwards, they seemed to shy away.

“We can wait for a warrant, or you can let us in now. Either way, if anything happens, it’ll be on you,” Madani explained. “Call Homeland - hell, call the cops, the FBI, whoever you want. Have us arrested when we’re done. But if anything happens, her blood will be on your hands.”

“And we’ve got Karen Page from The Bulletin sittin’ outside waitin’ for her friend to come out, so I suggest if you don’t wanna be named as complicit in this...” Frank let the threat go unfinished.

The receptionist had turned snow white, her hands trembling as she handed over a keycard and directed them to the elevator. The two hotel security members followed after.

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

You heard the commotion before everything went to hell.

There was a phone call; from what you could gather they had a friend in the FBI who’d gotten wind of a Homeland investigation, and there was about to be a raid on the hotel. They needed to get out of there, as quickly as they could.

“Come on,” he demanded, holding out his hand to you.

“No.”

“I’ve had enough of your games,” he muttered, his voice changing, turning softer. “Now, come with me.”

When he held out his hand again, you took a step towards him, wanting to do exactly as he said.

“N-no,” you said, shaking your head, trying to block him out, trying not to let him sway you.

“Come on, come with me. Right now,” he tried again.

Again you took a step, then another. Something inside of you told you to stop, to fight him, but you couldn’t. All you wanted to do was go with him.

“That’s it, come along and -”

“Boss, they’re in the elevator!”

The sudden disruption was enough to snap you out of it. You stepped back, reestablishing the space between you. You weren’t going to make this easy for him. 

“Told you I’d never be yours,” you muttered defiantly, triumphantly.

You both knew that there was no way that Drake was going to get out of this, at least not with you at his side. He’d have to let you go if he wanted to escape.

But you realised all too late what letting go looked like to Justin Drake.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” He asked, starting towards you. “I would have given you everything if only you’d chosen not to act like a tempermental whore. But it’s really no bother. I’m sure when your niece is old enough she’ll be far more amenable, far more grateful for what I have to offer.” 

You stepped back as he closed the distance, until you found yourself against the window.

“At least I get to have one last taste,” he muttered darkly.

“No!” 

Your arms shot out, trying to push him away, trying to keep him from biting you. But he was bigger than you and infinitely stronger. He pushed you back, held you in place despite your thrashing and screaming. You tried everything you could to stop him from pressing closer and closer, trying to turn away as he bowed his head towards your neck.

“Not so defiant now, are you?”

“Please, no - no!” You screamed and begged, tears streaming down your face.

He bit down. Hard. 

Fangs tore through flesh, but rather than lingering to feed, he pulled back, his lips and chin dripping dark with your blood.

It took a moment for you to realise that blood was slowly filling your throat, that he’d left you with more than just a puncture wound.

Your hand lifted as he pulled back and started to walk away, feeling the wound he’d left and the way blood was spurting from it. Lightheadedness quickly over took and you found yourself sliding down the glass and onto the floor. Desperately you reached for the hoodie you’d discarded on the floor when you’d changed for dinner, pressing it against the wound, hoping you’d survive long enough to see Billy one last time.

You weren’t sure what was happening, but you heard gunshots and shouting. Then someone was at your side, her hand holding the hoodie tighter against your wounds and shouting for Billy. 

Madani.

(What was Madani doing there?)

“Hold on, help’s on the way,” she told you, but the words barely registered.

You had so many questions but it seemed too late to try and ask them.

But finally - finally  - Billy was at your side. Dropping to his knees, his eyes filling with tears at the sight of you.

“B-Billy,” you managed to choke out despite the blood filling your mouth and lungs, “you’re h-here...”

You felt him squeezing your hand, holding you so tight, like he never wanted to let you go. There were tears in his eyes as he looked down at you and you knew exactly what they meant; you were dying. In your efforts to save him the pain of watching you die, you’d brought it about decades early.

“I told you,” he muttered softly, “I’ll never let you go.”

Madani continued to press the cloth against your wound but you could tell from Billy’s face that it wasn’t helping.

“S-sorry,” you tried to mutter, wishing that you had more time, wishing that you could apologise properly.

“Don’t,” he told you, “don’t try to talk. Just - just stay still, stay with me, it’s going to be alright.”

“I l-love -” you couldn’t finish, there was too much blood and you were starting to feel so cold, so tired.

“Hey - hey, hummingbird, keep your eyes on me. It’s going to be okay,” Billy told you, but his voice sounded so far away. 

You struggled to hold his gaze, some part of you glad that you’d gotten to see him one last time, but the rest of you hated the agony on his face and the tears streaking down his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” he told you, squeezing your hand tighter, like he was trying to hold you in this life and not let you slip away. “I love you and - and I’m sorry, I know you’ll hate me but...”

The rest faded into the sound of your own panic, some part of you knowing what he was trying to tell you, knowing what he wanted to do. You tried to shake your head, tried to pull at his hand but you were so weak you could barely move. 

You were so far gone that you didn’t hear him screaming and pleading with Frank, nor did you hear Frank’s initial refusal and Billy’s threat to do it himself. 

Your eyes went wide when Frank loomed over you, looking at you for a moment, an unspoken apology colouring his features. You tried to speak, trying to say something - though, confronted with your own death, even you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. But you felt Billy’s hand squeezing yours and some piece of you wanted to hold on, wanted to have his hand in yours for longer than this moment, longer than the six months that you’d had together. 

You wanted him.

You wanted the man you loved.

(It wasn’t fair. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want to leave him.)

But it was too late. Your eyes fell shut and you let out a gurgled breath, and the last thing you heard was Billy’s shouts.

End Note : So, yeah... I have a lot of feelings about this chapter. I know it jumps around and I'm not the greatest at action sequences (I'm working on it). And I know people won't like the ending and so on, but I'm having fun. I'm not sure if next week will be the last part now or if I'll have an epilogue the week after to tie up loose ends. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this and it wasn't a let down! Also I'm sorry if any typos slipped through, I lost a night of writing to go see Deadpool last night..

As ever, thank you so much for your support/reading/liking/reblogging/screaming at me in the comments! Have a great weekend!!

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[elliesbelle]

nobody compares to you

chapter 9

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, descriptions of and allusions to physical altercations and violence, descriptions of alcohol, dealer!ellie, more loser!ellie, mentions of smoking and marijuana, ellie's POV, minors do not interact

word count: 3.7k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-if if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

featuring the song “it might be you” by stephen bishop:

Four Days Ago

“Ellie, what the fuck! Oh, shit!”

“The fuck! Th-the fuck…is your problem!”

“Shit! Ellie!”

“Chang, get…this–fuck!–cunt…off of me!”

“El–ow! Ellie!”

“I heard what you fucking said to my girl!”

“What are–shit…motherfucker!”

“Ellie, stop!”

“You..fucking…cunt!”

“Yo, bro, get the fuck off of her!”

“Is that…all…you…can do?!”

“Alright, fuck! Enough! Stop!”

Two Days Ago

Ellie had been walking around campus with her hood over her head and eyes to the ground all day. She’d been ignoring calls & texts from her friends and clients and, to her growing annoyance, Daniela. She’d attended all her classes, but she’d sit as far back as possible and avoid any interactions or eye contact. During her breaks, she’d find some remote spot behind a building or in a secluded stairwell to smoke in private.

It was late afternoon now and Ellie’d just dashed out of her last class of the day. She didn’t want to go home to her apartment where she’d get ambushed by Jesse and, most likely as well, Dina. But she had nowhere else to loiter where she’d be able to sulk and smoke in peace, and her phone was also dying.

The walk to her and Jesse’s apartment was barely ten minutes from campus, but Ellie made sure to stretch it out to almost twenty. She walked four flights of stairs instead of taking the elevator like she usually would. She couldn’t even hear the jingling of her keys over the deafening sounds of Kendrick Lamar blasting in her earphones as she unlocked the front door.

The previous evening felt completely surreal. Ellie would have assumed it was just some rage-induced nightmare if it weren’t for the throbbing pain in her black eye and bruised right hand. After Jesse was able to pry Frat Guy Adam off of her before he could do any real damage and hastily convince him that she was probably tripping off of this strong new strain she got, Ellie immediately shut herself in her bedroom for the rest of the night. The only thing Jesse could get out of her before she disappeared behind her door was, “I seriously can’t fucking believe she’s letting her fuck her again.”

As Ellie crossed the doorway of the apartment, the second verse of “HUMBLE.” was abruptly yanked out of her ears by Dina’s quick fingers.

“Jesus fuck—Dina!” Ellie fussed, irritated as she attempted to grab her earphones back.

Dina said nothing as she balled them up and shoved them into her back pocket.

“How the fuck did you even know I was coming?” Ellie grumbled, knowing full well that she, Dina, and Jesse all indefinitely shared their respective locations with each other on their phones.

“Let’s talk, El.” Dina merely sighed.

Ellie scoffed in response and held out her hand.

“Can I have my earphones back?” She asked.

“No.”

“Seriously?”

“Ellie, we need to talk!”

Ellie didn’t reply as she stomped off towards her bedroom. She was about to slam the door in Dina’s face when she was met with Jesse’s back turned to her with sandpaper in one hand and a paint scraper in the other.

“Uhh, what the fuck, dude?” Ellie asked, dropping her backpack on top of her desk.

“I knew you’d leave your knife in here for the next two months or so if I didn’t do anything about it.” Jesse replied, sanding down the area where the knife once was lodged into the wall.

Dina leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Told him that you were too attached to that thing to not yank it out yourself, but he insisted on doing it and cleaning up your mess. As per usual.” Dina said, motioning to the small bucket of white plaster by Jesse’s feet.

“Yeah, I’m not cleaning all that up, though.” Jesse said, gesturing to all the dust now covering a portion of the bedroom floor.

Ellie shrugged off her hoodie and hung it on the back of a chair. She spotted her now-unstuck switchblade on top of some books on her desk and quickly pocketed it.

“Okay, well, can you guys maybe get out of my room now?” Ellie huffed, collapsing lazily onto her bed before grabbing a comic book on her bedside table that she had previously been reading the night before.

“We can,” Dina replied. “But we’re not going to.”

Ellie rolled her eyes and flipped a page.

Jesse and Dina shared a collective look and a heavy sigh.

“Dude, we gotta talk about yesterday.” Jesse insisted. “You seriously can’t keep ignoring this.”

“What the fuck even happened, really?” Dina asked.

“What, this one didn’t tell you?” Ellie replied, nodding towards Jesse’s direction without looking up from her comic book.

“All he told me is that you got your shit rocked by some frat guy trying to buy from you.”

“Hey!” Ellie said, sitting up and throwing her hands up in the air in indignation. “I fucked him up!”

“Then why do you have a black eye?” Dina questioned.

Ellie grumbled something unintelligible and sat back down to return to reading. Dina rolled her eyes.

“All I did was introduce him to her and she just suddenly wailed on him.” Jesse explained to Dina.

“I already knew who the fuck he was.” Ellie said behind her comic book.

“Oh shit, yeah,” Jesse recalled. “She did say she remembered him, and then she went nuts.”

“Who was this again?” Dina asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Adam Patterson from Sigma Eta.” Jesse replied.

“Yeah, I have no idea who that is.” Dina admitted.

“He came with our group to the diner the other night after the party,” Jesse said at the same time that Ellie said, “He was at Sterling’s with us.”

Dina’s knitted eyebrows straightened out in recognition.

“Oh, wait, was he that douchebag that sat next to—”

“Yes.” Ellie interrupted angrily.

Jesse and Dina immediately shared a look.

“Does this have anything to do with Abby Anderson?” Dina asked Ellie.

“Wait, what about Anderson?” Jesse questioned, eyebrows furrowing.

“You didn’t tell him?”

“Tell me wh—“ Jesse started but was cut off when his phone started buzzing furiously.

He took out his phone from his back pocket and frowned.

“Ah shit,” He muttered. “I gotta help Sidney set up with the open mic.”

“Now?” Dina asked.

“It’s every other Tuesday and I promised her.” Jesse shrugged.

He walked over to Dina to give her a quick peck on the lips before turning towards Ellie, pointing at her sharply.

“When I get back, I want to hear why the hell you’ve lost your goddamn mind.” He demanded of her before leaving the room. A few seconds passed before they heard the front door close behind him.

Dina sighed, uncrossed her arms, and strolled over to sit at the foot of Ellie’s bed. She unconcernedly shoved Ellie’s dirty Converse to the side, earning her a kick from Ellie which she easily dodged.

“Can you stop assaulting every single person you come across, Williams?” Dina said after slapping the foot that tried to punt her.

“Can you get out of my room?” Ellie asked, ignoring her question.

“Did you really try to beat the shit out of that Adam guy ‘cause of—“

“Why are we still talking about this?” Ellie immediately interjected.

“Because you’re out here attacking innocent people because of her!”

Ellie remained quiet as she sat up straight and placed her comic book back on her nightstand before replying.

“He called her a fucking queer, D.”

Dina blinked and stared at her.

“He did what?”

“When we were at Sterling’s the other night.”

“Oh, shit.” Dina whispered. “Okay, well, maybe not so innocent then.”

“No, he’s fucking not.” Ellie seethed, fists clenching.

“Okay, but it’s not really helping anyone if you get kicked out of school ‘cause you’re out here beating the shit out of some grade-A douchebag who most definitely deserved it,” Dina added, seeing that Ellie was about to interrupt. “Are you really that pissed off that she’s seeing Abby Anderson?”

“She can see whoever the fuck she wants. It’s really none of my business.” Ellie replied stubbornly.

“Ellie, c’mon, when are you going to face your fucking feelings for her for once?” Dina said. “You couldn’t man the fuck up when you were together, and now you don’t even speak to each other and you still won’t admit it.”

“Sorry that I’m too emotionally constipated for you.��

Dina rolled her eyes but then suddenly giggled.

“What?” Ellie asked.

“That’s probably the first time that you haven’t corrected me on the fact that you were together.”

Ellie kicked her softly.

“Oh, shut up.” Ellie retorted.

Yesterday

“You need to wrap that shit up better, El.” Dina said, gesturing to Ellie’s poorly bandaged right hand.

The sun was beginning to set, and Dina and Ellie’s shadows glided alongside each other on the brick pathway. Pink rays of light peeking from the sky hit Ellie’s freckles so beautifully that it almost distracted from her bruised eye.

“What? It’s fine.” Ellie shrugged.

“The wraps are already coming off, dumbass.” Dina noted.

“My bad, I’m not studying to be a doctor, unlike some people.” Ellie said, quickly murmuring the last part.

Dina merely rolled her eyes at this, refusing to engage further in Ellie’s growing vendetta against Abby Anderson.

They walked for about another ten minutes to reach the diner, chatting nonsensically about their classes and friends and some new asshole clients that Ellie had recently acquired.

Ellie had Dina laughing about her secretly charging some senior jock douchebags twice as much as usual for shamelessly hitting on her when they walked through the doors of Sterling’s. Ellie suddenly felt a strange ache in her stomach as they entered the restaurant. When she felt wary eyes on her, her discomfort was immediately explained.

Her gaze unintentionally met yours, her ocean green eyes widening in shock. The expression on your face mirrored her thoughts as her freckles turned bright pink. You both turned to your friends simultaneously in panic.

“Dina, what the fuck!” Ellie hissed.

“What?” Dina said, not realizing the situation they’d walked into.

“Did you do this shit on purpose?” Ellie demanded of her.

“What the hell are you going on about?” Dina asked, still clueless as she was busy looking around for the diner’s hostess.

“Can you please use your eyes for one second?”

“Wh—” Dina began but stopped suddenly when she saw what had caught Ellie’s rapt attention.

“Goddamn it,” Dina muttered. “Alright, hang on.”

Ellie watched as Dina marched over to the small table where you and Jesse were having dinner. Her eyes fell on you once more, remembering the last time she saw you with Abby Anderson. She suddenly felt a pang of guilt wash over her when she thought about the last conversation you’d had in the bathroom of this same diner, her eyes tearing away from your figure to stare at her old Converse.

God, I’m such a fucking dickhead.

She teetered back and forth on her feet as she felt shame seeping through her bones. She didn’t look back up until the diner’s hostess approached her.

“Hi, how many in your party?” She asked.

“Oh, uh, no. I’m here for pick-up?” Ellie replied.

“Oh gotcha, what’s the name?”

“It should be under Dina Woodward.”

“Okay! One second, ma’am.”

Ellie watched as the hostess headed to the back as Dina made her way back towards her.

“What the hell, D?” Ellie hissed.

“Seriously, I didn’t know!” Dina replied, throwing her hands up defensively.

“This isn’t funny!”

“El, I swear to god, I really had no idea they were gonna be meeting here.”

“You didn’t tell me that Jesse was hanging out with her tonight!”

“That didn’t seem like information relevant to you.” Dina said, crossing her arms.

“How is it not—”

“She’s not your fucking girlfriend, Ellie.” Dina pointed out.

Ellie looked taken aback as the hostess reappeared before them.

“Order for Dina Woodward?” She said, holding out a plastic bag.

“Yes?” Dina replied, but before she could reach for the food, Ellie had already grabbed it with her left hand and angrily shoved the entrance door open with her right.

She stomped away from the diner several feet away before Dina could catch up to her, far away enough for Dina not to catch the tears that she struggled to keep from falling.

Present Day

Ellie lays on her sheets, head at the foot of her bed and dinosaur sock-covered feet propped up on one of her pillows. She was senselessly and poorly strumming on her guitar. It was Friday evening and she was bored and all alone in the apartment, Jesse and Dina having gone out together on a movie date. She had contemplated going to the gym as she usually did whenever she was in a mood, but Dina had reprimanded her about her injured state enough that Ellie relented on spending a lonely night in. She strums lousily on the guitar with her injured hand, ignoring the throbbing of her wounded knuckles.

She’d finally texted Daniela back earlier that day, apologizing spiritlessly for not replying back sooner. She humoured Daniela’s flirty texts for a while until Ellie asked for Joel’s old jacket back, to which Daniela offered to come over to her apartment tonight to return. Feeling her intent, Ellie put her off by saying she had plans to meet up with several new clients all night and offered to meet up with her the next day instead. Ellie’d groaned when Daniela quickly responded with a text saying “it’s a date ;)” and immediately regretted the situation she’d pulled herself into.

Her fingers begin mindlessly plucking a succession of concordant chords, and it isn’t until a few moments later that she realizes she’d started to play an old love song that she remembers you’d liked so much.

It was an old 80s song called “It Might Be You” by Stephen Bishop. She’d often hear you thoughtlessly humming it to yourself or singing along to it when you’d put on your nearly ten-hour 80s playlist. She’d subsequently learned how to play it on the guitar to possibly serenade you with it eventually, only to never have the courage to do so when you were together.

Ellie exhales woefully, setting her guitar down next to her.

Why is she still everywhere?

She sits up to properly lay herself on her bed, flopping her head down onto her pillow before reaching for her phone that was charging on her nightstand.

Time to be a loser as usual again, Williams.

She sighs pathetically as she opens up Instagram once more, switching from her main account back over to br!ck_master2013. Even though Instagram already showed her recent searches (consisting only of you), she feels a pathetic sense of fulfillment typing out your entire username herself. Ellie taps on that same mirror selfie of yours which leads her to your profile.

You still have no new posts from the last time she checked, but she sees that you’d added something to your story sometime within the past day. She ignores the uneasiness in her stomach as she taps on the orange and purple circle to view what you’d posted.

You’d shared a few mutual aid posts earlier this morning (to which Ellie promptly saves to later donate to after her slight stalking), a picture that some of your old high school friends had posted of an up-and-coming band they were currently in, and a couple of new stories that causes Ellie to abruptly shoot up from her bed and promptly unplugging her phone from the wall.

“What the fuck?” She mutters out loud to herself, not in reference to the unceremonious way she stopped charging her phone, but to the Instagram stories that you were posting in real time.

Ellie taps furiously as she realizes that you were out tonight at the lesbian bar by campus, the Bow and Arrow. With Abby Anderson.

She makes a wild guess that you were likely drunk at the moment, judging by the silliness of your story captions. Your first bar-related story is a selfie you’d taken of yourself with the caption, “me going out to a bar to get smacked instead of being an old lady at home? quick, someone call the pope.” Despite the low lights of your environment, Ellie recognizes the shade of dark red lipstick you’re wearing.

That’s the lipstick she was wearing when—

Her thoughts are interrupted by her app automatically jumping to the next story, which was of you toasting your half-empty plastic cup with others that were being held up by faceless hands with the caption, “liquor, i hardly know her.” Ellie couldn’t help but chuckle out loud at your stupid joke. She would have bet her Jeep, her whole stash of weed, her beloved switchblade, and her entire precious comic book collection that the drink you had in your hand was a vodka cranberry.

Your next Instagram story drops a cast steel anvil down Ellie’s stomach.

It was a shaky picture of Abby Anderson making a mockingly pouty face towards the camera, holding out a credit card in one of her hands. It looked as if she and you were sitting at the bar, waiting to be served by a bartender. Your caption read, “hey siri, how do you beat up a buff, jacked lesbian who lives at the gym and won’t stop paying for your drinks all night.”

Ellie notices that you’d tagged Abby’s Instagram handle on the side and she promptly taps on it with trembling fingers. She huffs at her phone when she’s brought to Abby’s profile and sees that it’s set to private. She falls back onto her pillow and sighs.

“Ellie!!” You yelled after her as she stomped out of the Bow and Arrow.

She said nothing as she exited the bar and veered left into an empty backstreet lit only by the moonlight and a dim streetlamp.

Ellie walked further into the alleyway until she was a safe distance from any passersby. She took out a metal tin from one of her jacket’s front pockets and pulled out a tightly-wrapped joint. She tucked it between her teeth as she reached into a front pocket in her jeans for a lighter, promptly lighting the tip of the joint. She inhaled for a few seconds, letting the drug seep throughout her enraged body, then released an exhale towards the starry night sky.

She heard the agitated clicking of high heels and glanced down towards the main street to inspect whoever was approaching her. You were rubbing your hands up and down your arms, your favourite black boots nearly skipping down the alleyway to desperately generate heat in the frigid, unforgiving December air. You followed the familiar scent of lavender-laced marijuana into the dark street, spotting Ellie smoking alone.

Ellie watched as your shivering figure walked towards her, your despondent eyes eventually reaching her furious green ones.

“Smoking one of my js without me?” You teased.

“Your js?” Ellie asked, chuckling despite herself.

“Well, it’s my recipe.” You said, yanking the joint from her fingertips to place it between your lips which were painted with a dark shade of red.

“Oh, please, all you do is add buds of crushed lavender into them.” Ellie scoffed as the tip of the joint lit up once more from you taking a hit of it.

“Lavender buds are a key ingredient to creating these primo joints. It’s an intricate part of the process; ergo it is a recipe.” You insisted after blowing the residual smoke to the side.

“Besides,” You added. “You talk a whole lot of smack for someone who seems to copy my recipe all the time now, both for her clients and for herself.”

Ellie would have usually bantered with a witty retort, but she instead settled for an indignant huff.

After a few more hits, you handed the joint back to her.

“You done?” She asked you.

“Mhmm.”

She nodded, putting out the joint on the wall she was leaning against and placing what was left of it back in her metal tin. You stared at her as she did this, noticing that she was purposely refusing to make eye contact with you.

“Els.” You said.

“Mm?”

“Show me your hand.” You sigh.

“No.”

“El, babe, come on.” You insisted.

She exhaled and relented when her cheeks blushed at the term of endearment, holding out her right hand to you.

You took it in between both of yours, attempting to examine it under the dull yellowish light of the streetlamp. Your fingertips softly brush against her knuckles.

“Okay, not so bruised thankfully.” You murmured. “Does it hurt?”

Ellie merely shrugged in response.

“Els…” You whined at her stubbornness.

“I’m fine.”

You stared at her serious expression, still unable to get her to look at you.

“You dummy.” You chuckled lightly.

Ellie huffed.

You stroked her hand a couple more times before lightly placing a kiss on her slightly injured knuckles.

Despite the frigid winter air, Ellie immediately felt every part of her go up in flames. The only chilly part of her body was her hand which you’d brushed your cold lips against just moments before.

“Here,” She said, pulling her hand away from you so she could shrug off Joel’s old motorcycle jacket from her shoulders and place it on yours. “Baby, you’re fucking freezing.”

“El—”

“You’re freezing.” She repeated.

You smiled slightly before caving in to say, “Maybe a little bit.” Ellie chuckled.

“Elliie…” You began. “You didn’t have to do all that—”

“I know.”

“But—”

“I know.”

You tried to decipher her unreadable expression, your heart ready to burst as it beat rapidly in your chest.

“Why, Ellie? Why’d you have to take it to that extreme?”

Ellie’s ocean-green eyes were fierce and resolved. She brings her mildly bruised hand up to your face to intimately caress your cheek.

“You know why.” She whispers, finally meeting your gaze.

“I—”

The memory of staring into your eyes causes Ellie’s own to shoot open.

She’s still in her room, laying on her bed all alone with her phone on her chest and guitar on her side. The images of you in the alleyway of the Bow and Arrow replay alongside those of you and Abby so boldly displayed on your Instagram story tonight.

Ellie remains so engrossed in her own thoughts that she doesn’t notice all the hot tears rapidly streaming down her face. She grips her sheets and sighs.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” She whispers to no one.

Maybe she’ll forgive me one day.

author’s notes:

so sorry for taking so long to write this! life has been hectic and messy lately, plus y’all know i’m a bit insecure about writing ellie.

thank me by liking and reblogging this because tumblr is acting tf up on my laptop and i had to do the majority of this on my phone

adam's name originally was a reference to a background character in tlou2, but his last name is loosely inspired by some asshole dude i dated once back in college named adam (who i kind of also home-wrecked but i really don't regret doing so lol)

anyway, while you’re here, go check out the new smau series i’m working on called “almost like we knew” ♡︎

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn

@uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriesxinthespring, @amitycat, @thefishymissy, @yevheniiaaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam

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@joliettes, @p1llowthoughtss, @ellieslegalwife

[torakowalski]

I'm trying not to say "sorry for the delay!" every time I post because there's only so many times you can say that before a delay becomes... Just the speed at which I post.

Anyway, I started a fancy new job last week and I'm knackered, but luckily so is Steve. So here he is! Finally at his first games!

(part one | part eight)

Seoul is... Wow, Seoul is like nothing Eddie has ever experienced. After roaming the US for two years, he thought he was pretty well travelled, but it turns out that he was a super embarrassingly wrong.

Jonathan Byers loaned Eddie his camera (with strict instructions on how to take care of it) and Eddie has already sent a roll of film home to be developed, despite having only been here three days. He's also sent about a dozen postcards and had one thirty-second phone call with Wayne where he just had time to promise he wasn't dead and wouldn't become dead, before his money ran out.

Now, it's sometime in the evening and he's lying on his bed, pretending that he isn't fully fucked up by the thirteen hour time difference between here and home. He keeps thinking about how it'll be early morning in Hawkins, that he's basically in the future right now. He rolls over, grabs another postcard and addresses it to Dustin.

Greetings from the future. Today's lottery numbers are...

Then he flicks a drop of ink and deliberately smudges it across the paper.

He's busy laughing at his own cleverness, when there's a knock on the door. Expecting the incredibly helpful woman who runs this hotel, Eddie rolls off the bed, and pads barefoot over to the door, opening it with an, "Annyeonghaseyo."

Steve, standing on the other side of the door, smiles at him and says, "Have you learned the whole language yet?"

"I'm not Robin," Eddie tells him, before grabbing his arm and pulling him inside. "What are you doing here?"

Steve shrugs, running a hand through his hair to push it back off his face. It doesn't look like there's any product in it, and he looks tired, standing there in a plain white t-shirt and his red and white Team USA tracksuit pants.

"My roommate brought one of the athletics girls back to our room, so I said I'd give them some space."

It's been two days since they last saw each other and Eddie wants to hug him, or kiss him, or maybe climb him like a tree, but he's not sure what the rules are.

They've barely had a chance to talk about anything since that first kiss three weeks ago. Dustin insisted on coming back to their hotel room with them for a sleepover that night, and then Steve has been training with the Olympic coaches every hour since.

They've kissed four times in total. The last one was four days ago in Toronto Airport before they boarded the longhaul flight to Seoul. Then Steve headed to first class with the rest of the swim team and Eddie to cattle, clutching his brand new passport.

He'd spent eleven hours wedged between an international student and a very chatty Korean grandma. Every time he went to pee, he spied on Steve through the little curtain but only managed to catch his eye a couple times. Steve looked happy, making friends in the team, and being brought complimentary bags of peanuts. He'd looked like he belonged.

"Well, welcome." Eddie gives Steve a bow then wishes he hadn't. That's what he'd do for anyone, and Steve isn't just anyone.

Steve rolls his eyes at him, but hopefully at least kind of fondly.

"Thanks. I'll make myself at home."

He throws himself down onto the bed, stretching out his arms and groaning. Eddie's mouth goes dry watching him, wondering if it'd be okay to follow him down.

Steve closes his eyes for long enough that Eddie thinks maybe he's just come here to nap. Then he blinks up at Eddie, and holds out his hand.

"Lonely?" Eddie asks, stepping close enough that Steve can push his fingers between Eddie's.

"I mean, I wouldn't say no to some company." Steve pulls on Eddie's hand, pulls again. Eddie thinks for a second then rolls up onto the balls of his feet, so the next time Steve tugs, Eddie spills forward and right down on top of him.

Steve wheezes on impact, laughing out, " You shit," when he gets his breath back.

Eddie looks down from about two inches above him. They're almost nose to nose, so close that Steve's eyes are a blur of green and brown. "Sorry, is this not where you wanted me?"

Steve wraps his arms around Eddie's middle, rubs his fingers along the hem of Eddie's shirt. "I guess there are worse places for you to be."

He smiles and Eddie smiles, then Steve lifts his head and Eddie lowers his and they're kissing. Again. Some more. First kiss in Korea, fifth kiss overall. Eddie wonders if they'll ever do enough kisses that he stops counting.

Then he tells himself to stop hoping for a future and focus on right now.

Steve's kisses are slick and measured, so Eddie tries to slow down to match. He shifts a little to the side so he isn't totally squashing Steve but Steve makes a protesting noise and hoicks him back on top.

"I'm too heavy," Eddie protests. He's never laid on top of someone before, but he's gotta be, right? He's a full grown adult man.

"I like it," Steve says, like that's the end of the argument. Then he pulls Eddie back on top of him and kisses him and, well, that is the end of the argument.

"How long can you stay?" Eddie asks once he's kissed every part of Steve's face that looked kissable (all of it) and is thinking of moving on to his neck.

"Curfew's ten and it's -" Steve lifts his arm to check his watch over Eddie's shoulder. " - ten past ten, so I guess... forever?"

"That is the best logic I ever heard, but I don't think time works like that, sweetheart."

Steve's eyes flare, which is kinda interesting. Eddie calls everyone sweetheart, same as his mama called everyone sugar, but if Steve likes it, it's his.

"My roommate will cover for me," Steve says, easily. Of course he's immediately fallen into the whole team aspect of the games. He's a jock all the way down to his DNA and they bond like pack animals. "He thinks he's sent me roaming the streets of Seoul alone, after all."

"Rude," Eddie says. "Banished you out into the night, just so he can get laid."

"Super rude," Steve agrees. He hesitates then adds, "Or like, not actually laid. The guys who were on the team for the LA games think it's bad luck to have sex before a race."

"Like...immediately before or at all?" Eddie asks. Steve's races don't start for another four days and Eddie isn't, okay Eddie isn't expecting anything, but Steve is in his bed right now.

"From the opening ceremony until their races are done," Steve says. He makes a face. "It's just total superstition, obviously."

"Obviously," Eddie agrees.

Steve bites his lip.

"And you're scared to go against it just in case," Eddie fills in for him.

Steve puts a hand over his face and squints at Eddie from between his fingers. God, he's cute. A cute, cute dork. "Sorry."

Stupidly, Eddie feels himself blush. "Sweetheart, I'm not, I wasn't, I'm not... I, uh, I. Shut up."

Steve frowns. "I didn't say anything?"

"I was telling myself to shut up." Eddie groans.

"Ohhh, I can help with that," Steve says. Then he kisses Eddie again, like he thinks he's smooth.

It's actually kind of easier to relax into just kissing now that he knows they're not gonna be doing anything else. He can focus on the warmth of Steve's lips and the spit taste of his mouth. Or, it turns out, on the weird feeling of Steve yawning directly into their next kiss.

"Excuse you," says Eddie.

"Excuse me," Steve agrees, and tries to go back to kissing. But Eddie caught a look at him when they broke apart and he's heavy eyed and very, very sleepy-looking.

This time when Eddie moves to the side, Steve's protest is quieter.

"Tired?" Eddie asks.

"Nah, I'm good." Steve yawns again then looks betrayed by himself.

Eddie strokes his hair back behind his ears for him then runs his finger over Steve's flushes cheekbones. "Wanna have a nap?"

"I should get back," says Steve, while simultaneously snuggling down deeper into Eddie's pillow.

"A short nap, then I'll wake you up," Eddie promises, secure in the knowledge that he hasn't fallen asleep before four any night they've been here yet.

"Just a short one," Steve says, tugging Eddie back so he's hooked under Steve's arm.

Entirely unsure of the protocol, Eddie lays his head on Steve's chest. It's all hard and muscly, not actually all that comfortable to lie on, but it's also Steve's chest so Eddie's gonna give it a whirl, anyway.

"You're coming to watch me, right? Every heat?" Steve asks, fingers twirling in Eddie's hair.

"I mean, there's a lot of other stuff happening. You know they've let tennis back in, this year?" Eddie says, drawing it out. When Steve tugs a little on his hair, he laughs. "Yeah, I'll be there. I haven't watched every other time you swam in the last two years just to miss out on any of this."

Steve hums like he's smiling. They've shared so many hotel rooms by now, spent so many nights talking in the dark, that Eddie can read him without having to see his face.

"Good," Steve says. He plays with Eddie's hair a little longer, before his fingers go slack and his breathing deepens.

Eddie smiles to himself, trapped under Steve's arm and not minding one bit. He might still be second guessing all the new rules of their relationship, but this part is familiar. He absolutely knows how to take care of Steve before a competition.

If there's such a thing as a tour manager for a swimmer, then he has all the experience in the world. He's still pondering whether or not that's a real career when, inevitably, he too falls asleep.

(continued here)

[grave-z-boy]

Right so I love your writing and just need more mx m cause fuck I'm tired of imaging dead me .

I'm a Trans man..I think ( female to male ??) So I was hoping for a fic somewhat like that . Arthur and reader meet when they're female but 2 years later or so they meet again and arthur doesnt recognize y/n (because they transitioned) I just want some fluff and acceptance of that . I know back then homosexuality was a big no no and being trans is unheard of so it'll be fun to see where you take it.

Arthur Morgan x Trans!Male!Reader

Summary: You’ve felt stuck and unhappy for years, so, in pursuit of your own happiness you leave everyone and everything you’ve even known behind. Including your currently out of state lover, Arthur Morgan.

Word count: 6,011

Warnings: reader is a bartender, reader steals, readers sister and mother are mentioned, implied past sex between Arthur and reader, drinking and alcoholism mentioned (not reader or Arthur), y/n and his guns, guns mentioned, shooting mentioned, abandonment, hurt comfort, reader being One Of The Guys™️, sleep deprived Arthur, Tilly being helpful, reader get misgendered and deadnamed a lot but it’s before they knew he was trans, reader cries really fucking hard at one point Arthur being sleep deprived, sleep deprive Arthur being really gay for Reader, not mentioned in the story but the reason Arthur is so tired is because about half way though his second trip to town his horse bucked him off for pushing her too hard and he had to walk the rest of the way, worlds longest warning list damn

Sept. 15, 18XX

My Dear Arthur Morgan

It’s been thirteen months since I saw you last. The time has passed slowly for me- sometimes it felt as though I was standing still for days at a time. Like everyone and everything around me was moving forward- but for me, and only me, time stood still. In the months since you’ve left it seems my joy, as well as a my love for my home town, has dwindled to nothing. Staying here, the way I am, it pains my heart. I know I said I would be here, that I would wait for you to return. But I need to change and the change that I need cannot be achieved here. The people here know me, they’ve known me my whole life, and no matter what I do I will always be that same little girl to them.

I’m heading up to a little town in Nevada, maybe I can start over there.

Always yours, D/n.

Arthur received your final letter months ago. In the time since he’s read it hundreds of times, mulling over every little detail. The crumbles in the paper, the unevenness of your writing, the all too familiar tear stains that permanently warped small circles on the page, the way your name ripped through the paper, as though you’d traced it dozens of times before sending it off.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand what happened, why after all this time of waiting, all this time of writing him dozens of love letters, why you decided to say goodbye, he understood change. Arthur has seen people change, he’s changed, and if it was change you needed he’d do it again. But you left. If he really wanted to, he could find you, ride day and night, ask everyone he saw if they’d seen the beautiful woman that he loved more than anything. But…

You didn’t want that. You didn’t want to be hunted down, you didn’t need to be convinced. You needed change, not a reason to stay the same. So he let you go and even when the following days were filled with the nothing but pain and confusion and the complete desolation your decision brought, he still let you go.

The gang knew he was hurting, he was withdrawn, went off on his own for a couple of days. They figured he went to find you, but when he returned, without you and in a severely worse state, they knew not to press him on it.

You weren’t much better.

This was your decision and you were going to live with it. You yearned for Arthur, every day and every night, it was different from waiting for him in your hometown, he was the one who’d left then, but you knew he’d come back to you one day. Now you were the one leaving, and you could never go back to him.

You needed to move on, you sold every piece of clothing you had to a local tailor, it was almost funny to see some of your nicer dresses displayed in the window the next morning, early on, your new wardrobe came from various drunk men. You’d be surprised just how much you could find in an alley next to a bar. After you had an outfit, a proper male outfit, you were able to assimilate.

You lived above a tavern. The owner was far too old and far too tired to run it anymore, and he wanted to live in his own house for the first time in decades, so he offered you the place for a little over a hundred bucks. You worked at the bar at night, while you handled various chores and other responsibilities during the day. The pay wasn’t great, but you had a permanent place to stay and spare food from the bar to eat, and it was more than enough.

You’d taken up a new name, y/n, you thought about it for a long time before you left. A good name, the name of a proud man with no connection to who you were before. No one ever questioned you. You were just a man to them. They teased you, in the earlier days, called you feminine, pointed out your hand, your cheeks, and your hips among other things, but in the end it was just teasing, they didn’t know why you were like that, and they didn’t question when you put in an effort to change or hide your more feminine aspects. Maybe they were just too drunk to care.

You loved this life, you were just the friendly bartender.

But even with this new life, you found yourself missing aspects of you’re old one.

Your old friends, your old family, your old lover. They wouldn’t take you back, not like this, they’d think something was wrong, they’d try to change you, try force you back into the box you clawed yourself out of.

But still you dreamed of them, your sisters cooking, the way she was effortlessly graceful even when she was teasing you, your friends, the girls you’ve know since you were in diapers, singing, making flower crowns, getting into trouble. Arthur…

You dreamed of Arthur the most. Your days and nights were filled with thoughts of him. You think back to your last night together, the way he held you so tightly, you swore you could still feel his hands there. The praises he muttered, the love he confessed through out the night, every move he made, the way he left and the hole that was left in your chest after.

You dreamed of him, like one day you’d wake up and he’d be beside you. And he tell you that he loved you, not d/n, not the girl from before, but you, y/n, as your truest self.

But just like yesterday, and the days before that, he wasn’t there when you opened your eyes.

The sun was just coming up. But the sliver of light that did shine through the window seemed to magically be angled at your eyes. Making the rest you so desperately wanted impossible.

You pushed yourself up with a groan, your elbow popping the moment you were upright, your eyes were just barely open, you scratched your chest and let out a long yawn.

Your room was still dark for the most part, but you were still able to pull on some pants and fasten a belt so you could head downstairs. The tavern was empty, you cleaned up good last night and you wouldn’t have to worry about really opening until later. Still, you unlocked the front door and flipped the wooden sign in the window to say open, the people here knew you weren’t really open to serve, you were just open to the chatty people that passed through in the morning, locals coming to say hi, or travelers in need of direction, others came to sit with their friends and get out of the violent Nevada sun. Either way, you’d be polite enough to them, but they weren’t welcome for a drink for another couple of hours.

Stepping into the backyard you picked the laundry off the line and into a basket. You heard the bell up on top of the front door ring a couple of times. As you got closer to the back door you could hear the faint chatter of two people inside, Doctor Mayer, one of three doctors in town, and Anita, a house wife. She was in here more often than her husband was, but you always figured that she just needed something to do while he worked considering you’ve only ever seen her drink a handful of times in the past year.

When you came through the back door she let out an excited yelp,

“Y/n!” She shouted, like she hadn’t seen you the night before.

“Mrs. Matthews.” You said with a respectful nod. “How’s you’re husband?”

She groaned, “paranoid.”

Setting the basket down on the bar, in between the upturned stools, you turned back to her.

“He used to be a farmer, farmers are always paranoid.”

“He was not a damn farmer, don’t let that man fool you, he was a farm hand, it’s different,”

Dr. Mayer piped in, his voice low and tired, though that just how he always sounded, “the bastard smells like one…”

“It’s getting warmer out there.” You responded, leaning against the bar.

“Doesn’t mean he has to walk around smelling like a damn animal!”

You laughed, turning back to Anita, “what does your husband do anyway?”

“He’s a banker, which is why he’s so damn paranoid in the first place.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well..” she stated, adjusting herself in her chair, “one of his colleague’s brother-in-law told his colleague that he saw a gang ‘a outlaws heading up this way, but here’s the kicker, Johnny, the colleague, is a notorious liar. Lies left and right like his life depends on it.”

“Johnny Flores?” You asked.

She smacked the table, “That’s the bastard!”

“Yeah, he comes in here every Wednesday like clockwork, telling the boys his stories. It’s a surprise the whole town hasn’t heard about this..”

“Well, it isn’t Wednesday yet, is it? It’ll make it’s way into you’re bar, don’t worry”

You laughed again, grabbing the basket off the table you said, “Alright, I’ll be back in a minute, got a few more thing to settle.”

You weren’t too worried about the rumors, there wasn’t much in the town anyways, no sheriff either so if they did come and make noise, it’d be a free for all and they’d leave with less than they came with. Everybody had a gun, hell- you had two, a shotgun the last owner had given you, and a pistol Arthur had given you a few weeks before he left, one was under the bar on a shelf, the other was under your bed, you’ve never really had a need for either, but if Johnny was being truthful for once in his life, which you doubted, you figured it was good to have them.

That night, when the bar did open, a few unfamiliar faces strode in, though none were to shady. A couple of working girls took to them quick and they were gone after being chatted up by for a bit. Outside of that, it was a normal night.

You closed late, shooing out the last drunk nearly two hours later than usual. Wiping down the tables, flipping the chairs and stools on them, washing the glasses, sweeping, mopping and making sure the front and back door was locked before heading upstairs. You scrubbed yourself down at your washstand. Of all things you missed from your old home, your bathtub was one of the bigger ones. Your mother had invested in it early on, and now you were saving to have one installed here too. What you wouldn’t do for a hot bath after a long day. You were almost there, another fifty dollars and you’d have all the money you needed. That’s were a good portion of your money went, you didn’t mind, after all you’ve sacrificed you deserve something nice.

——-

A couple of weeks later, Wednesday afternoon, Johnny Flores and a couple of his friend decided to take over the seats directly in front of the bar. Again, he told stories of bandits headed your way, but he was “serious” this time.

“I swear, I know what I saw, Dutch’s boys, just like the damn posters! I saw them coming from the east, clear as day.”

Before one of his friend could respond you asked, “and what the hell were you doing in the east, huh?”

“Well-“ he straightened himself out, “I was out with my lady friend-“

“The prostitute-“ his friend, Oscar, interrupted.

“-Not a prostitute, she's a-”

“-escort-” both Johnny and his three friends said together, they've heard that one before.

“Isnt that the same thing?” you asked.

“He doesn't think so!” Oscar said.

“They almost knocked our carriage over!” Johnny shouted, getting the conversation on track.

“Sure they did..” you said, drying the glass in your hand before setting it back down. “Bet they stuck you up too, only let you live cuz you're so pretty.”

“Go to hell, y/n.”

“I'll go where ever your lying, drunk ass ain't.”

“Im not lying, and I’m not drunk either, so get me another whiskey, asshole!”

“Hey now,” Daniel, who was also a regular, piped up, “careful how you talk to him, he might shoot ya’”

You set the glass down in front of him, he snatched it quickly, gulping it down.

“Or I might just piss in your whiskey.”

He choked hard, luckily the drink went down his throat instead of all over your counter, then you would have shot him. His face morphed to one of irritation, but his friend's laughter was infectious and he found himself laughing along with them.

The night ended with you carrying a passed out Johnny to the alley, you cleaned up, scrubbed yourself down, and went to bed just as you always did.

The next morning a delivery was made to the bar, food and alcohol, you kept your meats and some of your more expensive liquor in the ice box and things like bread and supplies were kept on the shelf. Food wasn't ordered commonly in the tavern, but there were those who ate here nearly every night because they had no skill for cooking and no one else to do it for them. You enjoyed those people, and you think they enjoyed you too, especially since the last owner would drive them out if they tried to come in for more than three days in a row. He thought that they were stealing food from other customers, but you didn't, You knew they were just hungry and needed to eat, and they couldn't be stealing because they always paid.

After that, your day was pretty normal- other than what you consider to be one the best things to happen to you in a long time- your bathtub, your beautiful porcelain bathtub with golden feet and faucet, was done. Fully installed and in perfect working order. You weren't going to pretend to understand how the man you paid did it, but he did. And finally, after what felt like years, you were able to take a hot bath.

It was weird, staring down at your distorted body as you soaked. Usually, when you scrubbed yourself down at the washstand all you could think of was how desperately you wanted this to be over. Your mind was clear, but that clarity only lasted so long though, as it did most nights, your mind wander to Arthur.

Saying you missed him was redundant, it was meaningless, it was stupid. You know, but you did. Letting out a long sigh, the last time you saw Arthur was like a dream, you spent an entire day together, you woke up together, ate together, bathed together, dressed together- everything you did, every little move you made reminded you of that day. And with Johnny spreading rumors about the Dutch’s gang, you heard his name more and more. You let yourself sink into the water, your eyes clenched shut as warm water covered your face. You stayed there longer that you should have, when you finally sat up, you were nearly gasping for air.

You got out few minutes later, you were tired, dressing yourself halfway before collapsing into bed.

You didn’t dream that night, your mind either too tired or too pained to show you your usual fantasies.

——-

Arthur swore he wouldn’t look for you, he swore it to you and to himself that he’d let you be free. But it seemed unavoidable now. Dutch had settled the gang in a large clearing in Nevada, the gang was mostly hidden by a small chain of mountains, and there was a streak of towns and settlements all within a couple dozen miles from each other.

There weren’t many cities in Nevada, it was dry and damn near impossible to farm out here if you didn’t know what you were doing, and if that wasn’t enough, the heat would be.

You were out there somewhere.

Dealing with the heat, with the drought, and with the shitty crops. And you still didn’t go back home. He’s been to your home. He's gone back dozens of times, you were never there, whatever you wanted to do, whatever changes you made, you succeded. He was happy for you, you were happy, God he hoped you were happy- he doesn't know what he'd do if he found out you weren't. If you were somewhere miserable and sulking, all this time, when you could have been with him.

He pushed those thoughts back- you were happy, you had to be.

When Arthur mentioned he was riding into the nearest town, he got a few odd looks. It wasn't a secret that you'd run off to Nevada, not even close. Most didn't say much, maybe a quick good luck, or a request for something from town. Some didn't say anything, but Dutch did. Dutch warned him, warned him about you and how some changes weren't good, and if Arthur did see you that he needed to be careful.

Arthur wasn't one to ignore advice, and he didn't ignore it, he thought about it as he road through the desert lands of Nevada, but whatever changes you made, he could handle it. He wasn't a child, he didn't need have his hand held. There wasn't even a guarantee that you'd been in this town, or the next one. So for all he knew he'd never have to face you're changes.

The town was bustling with life. The people went about their business. The town was…normal. Small, busy, and normal. He road in unbothered, no one here seemed to care enough to even look when the man when he trotted by.

Hitching his horse to a sturdy pole he set off to one of the small shops nearby, after picking up some extra oat cakes and apples for the horse, he tried to find the sheriff’s office, only to find that this town didn't have one after asking a mildly disheveled yet nicely dressed man for directions, no government either. The town was its own unit outside of the occasional trading.

“Danny Hikman used to be the law here, well, not really, but he kept people on the right track. Encouraged them to do right- and get guns, he used to run a bar a little down the way, gave it to his nephew or something-” the man said, laughing slightly.

“‘ bar any good?” he asked, only half listening to the man.

“The best, fresh food, cold whiskey- bartenders a good guy too, won't hesitate to throw your ass out though.”

“I’ll bet- which way’s that bar, again?”

———

You started serving earlier than usual today, mostly so you could close earlier without complaint. The familiar chime of the bell above the door called your attention for a less than a second, you recognized Johnny, then looked back down at the glasses you were cleaning.

“Changing your schedule on me, Johnny? I thought you were a Wednesday man?”

He let out a short laugh, sitting in the spot directly in front of you, “just showing a friend around.”

“You’re friends are all alcoholics, I doubt they need help finding a bar.”

“Hey now, I’ve got a new friend. Mr. Uhh-“

“Arthur.”

You felt like you’d just jumped out of your skin, the glass in your hand clattered against the floor, ever so sturdy. Landing thankful one piece. Staring at the man in front of you, standing just behind Johnny, Arthur Morgan, right there, looking just the way he did when he left, just the way you remember him.

He glanced at Johnny, then back at you- it felt like he looked right through you. Looking at you with none of the love or adoration from before. Because he loved d/n, not y/n. Y/n was just a bartender to him, an awful one who apparently couldn’t even hold a damn glass.

Your heart felt like it was collapsing in on itself, your chest was tight and you could feel your throat start to close as tears weld in your eyes. Quickly, you broke eye contact with Arthur, ducking down under the bar to grab the glass, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe the forming tears in your eyes before standing up.

“Sorry boys,” you muttered, “you’re, uh, friend startled me is all.”

Taking off his hat and setting down on the counter, Arthur took a seat on one of the stools.

“Sorry, your friend here talked you up quite a bit, had to see for myself if what he said was true.”

You let out a laugh, forced and almost nervous, setting the glass down with the rest of the dirty glasses, you said, “Trust me, it’s true, what you looking for Mr. Arthur?”

“Just Arthur, and whiskey, thanks.”

You nodded to the man before heading to the storage room, you’d hate to admit it, but you wanted to run, straight passed the storage room and out the back door. But that would make Arthur think something was wrong, and yes, something was wrong, but he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t recognize you, and that was okay, it was supposed to be okay, you left so you wouldn’t be recognized, you left to start over. But he’s out there, and you were hiding in the storage room so you wouldn’t have to face him. You gave yourself a moment, for your throat to release and for your heart to stop pounding and aching. Only the pounding stopped. You needed to work, you couldn’t let them know anything was wrong.

Grabbing a bit of higher quality whiskey out of the icebox, feeling the frosty glass sting your hand as you carried it out of the storage room. Without looking up at the man you grabbed one of the clean glasses and poured him about half a glass. You remember Arthur complaining about it once, only getting serviced the tiniest amount of alcohol, no matter the price. Capping the bottle you gave a short wordless nod before setting it under the counter. Arthur grabbed the glass, before he could speak you were on the other side of the bar, serving somebody else.

Johnny didn’t stay long, he had other things to do on a Thursday afternoon, but Arthur stayed, you poured him a couple more glasses before cutting him off, at least from your expensive whiskey.

“How much do I owe you?” He ask, his speech a bit slurred as he sat unsteadily in his seat.

“Nothing, I’ll put it on Johnny’s tab, come Wednesday he won’t notice it.”

“Thank you kindly-“

“Y/n-“

“Thank you, y/n.”

“You have a good night Mr. Morgan.”

You crawled into bed that night, still in your day clothes, feeling like your heart had been torn out of your chest. And you cried, you cried until the sun came up, until your body couldn't cry anymore and every sound you made was a rough heaving sob. And when you had no more energy left to sob, you stared at your open window, watching the sunrise, listening to the people.

You were supposed to open today, unlocking the door and flipping the sign, staring out the window, at the people, at Mrs. Matthews waiting across the street for you to open your doors.

You flipped the sign back, you stated at the word “OPEN” facing you, then at Mrs. Matthews's face fell as the word “CLOSED” faced her.

————

Sitting on his cot, journal on his lap, Arthur stared at the picture he drew. It wasn't perfect, considering he was half drunk when he drew it, but it was something. The bartender from last night. He was…something. A nervous something. Arthur felt bad for him when he dropped the glass, then he just…stared at him, long enough for Arthur to get a spark of familiarity when he saw his face. Arthur tried to get his attention as the night went on, ordering drinks, asking questions, trying to get the man to stay close, be he'd walk away the moment he'd answered or served him.

He wasn't like that with other patrons, he laughed, he joked- then he kicked everyone out.

He heard him say he was closing early, but let him stay until he finished his last drink. Arthur thought about the name he'd given. Y/n.

“I see you're drawing d/n again, did you catch her in town?”

Looking up he saw Tilly standing next to him with a kind smile on her face.

“No, it's not d/n, some bartender in town, he looks so familiar.”

Tilly hummed, sitting on the cot with Arthur and taking the book out of his lap. She flipped through the pages quickly before finding a drawing of d/n, with your final letter stuck right next to it.

“Needs a change, huh? Maybe she skipped town and became a bartender, you never know.”

“A bartender and a man?”

“You never know Arthur. Maybe that's why she left, couldn't make a change like that where people know you. They would've hunted her down.”

“Tilly..”

“Maybe you should talk to the bartender, if it's not her then it's not her, but if it is, are you really going to miss seeing her again because you won't take a chance?”

Handing the journal back to him she said, “Just think about it, at least.” Then she walked away.

————

You heard the slam of the front door behind you as you sat the freshly cleaned glasses on the rack. If you were going to sulk and lock yourself in the bar then you were going to clean while you did it.

“We’re closed..” you said, your tone not exactly customer friendly.

You had a list of things you needed to do, you've already mopped the floor, scrubbed the tables and walls, washed every glass, plate, and utensil, did your laundry, scrubbed your tub, cleaned your room-

“D/n..?”

You paused, then glanced over your shoulder. You knew it was him, you already knew, you knew his voice too well to ever mistake it. Taking a breath, you hands shaking and heart pounding, you turned around.

“Arthur, I-” you breathed out, but you didn't know what to say. “How did you-”

“Lucky guess..”

Taking slow steps towards the bar, you heard him sigh.

“Are you…okay?” he asked, unsure.

You nodded, “Yeah, yeah I'm okay.”

“We should talk-”

“Yes, we should-”

You stepped from behind the counter, still unsure as to what could happen next. Then, without warning, you were pulled into a tight hug, Arthurs's body practically enveloping yours. You stood there, holding him as tightly as you could until your arms started to burn from the strain.

You didn't know what to say, or how to explain what happened, the realization you went through while he was gone, why you left.

When you pulled away you still didn’t know what to say, you opened your mouth to talk but no words came out. You kept your face glued to the ground for a long moment.

“You look different, I didn’t recognize you yesterday..”

You pulled out one of the stools.

“I told you I needed change.”

He pulled another out beside you.

“I know, I just don’t know what I was expecting.”

“This must be so confusing.”

“It is, but I’m betting it was more confusing for you that it could be for anybody else.”

Leaning on the counter, you looked up at him.

“I guess so. In my home town I figured that they’d be a little more angry than confused so I left..” you stopped, taking a breath, “I didn’t want to leave you, Arthur.”

Arthur sat there silently, his eyes turned towards the counter.

You couldn’t help but stare, you haven’t seen him in so long, his eyebrows were slightly scrunched downward, his pretty blue eyes focused on nothing as his mind raced. His fingers tapped against the counter every few seconds. You tried not to let that anxious feeling in your chest build, but the longer he was silent, the harder it got to push down.

“You said you aren't happy anymore..”

You blinked.

“I wasn't.”

“How about now? Are you happy now?”

“I'm.. I have more good days than I did before, so…yeah, I'm happy.”

He stayed silent for another moment. You figured he was just trying to find his words.

Then, when he did speak,

“I still love you.”

You sighed, “I still love you, too, Arthur.”

Another long silence passed. It was odd, you've dreamed of seeing him again, all the damn time. And now that he's here you didn't know what to say. Your relationship, how ever strong it was before, was dying. Even though you loved him and he loved you.

Arthur was having similar thoughts, he didn't care how much you changed, he wanted you to be happy. That's all he wanted for you. But he wants to be with you, he doesn't care that your a man, it doesn't matter to him, he doesn't think it's ever mattered. He's never thought too hard about it. But now, with you sitting there looking the way you did. Looking so different, so muchlike yourself, so much more at peace even though you were being confronted, he thought, ‘yeah, I could be with a man.’

Before he could, you took a chance.

“How long you thinking of staying in town for, Arthur?”

———-

You laughed, he missed your laugh.

“You can't just go around taking people's clothes off!”

“I needed clothes and they were so drunk they wouldn't miss them!” you argued.

“How have you not been caught yet?”

“I bought new clothes!”

“Why couldn't you do that first?”

“I needed to avoid suspicion.”

“Avoid suspicious by stealing clothes..”

You laughed again.

You and Arthur had found your way upstairs, both of you sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall. He asked you how you ended up here, it was funny, explaining to Arthur, a known outlaw, the various ways you broke the law, and having him lecture you.

“I will not take this from an outlaw!”

“You're an outlaw too, now, Clothes Bandit.”

“Oh that's awful, why couldn't I get something good?”

“‘Good’ like what?”

“I don't know, you're better at naming things than I am.”

He looked over at you a small smile on his face.

“Really now, Mr. Y/n, how’d you come up with that anyways?”

“Well I found a baby naming book.”

He sat up, giving you a look.

“Are you serious?”

You looked at him for a second, a stren expression on your face, then slowly a smile broke out on your face.

“You're an ass.”

“You really think I got Y/n for a baby naming book?”

“You could have!”

“But I didn't-”

Eventually, after showing him your room and the various aspects of your new life that you adored (yes, the tub too), you headed back down to the bar, only to see Daniel, one of Johnny’s friends, behind the bar serving himself.

“Daniel, I'm going to kill you, how many drinks have you had?” you said, rushing over to him, snatching both the glass and bottle from his hand.

“One-” you gave him a look, he caved quickly with a sigh, “five.”

“Goddamnit.”

“‘M sorry, you are closed, your never closed!”

“I wouldn't be serving drinks this early anyways!”

He laughed, walking around to the other side of the bar, “I'm special though right? Won't get shot or banned or nothing?” he practically pleaded, but formed it like a question.

“No, you're not banned, but you still need to leave.”

He sighed, dragging himself out the door.

Sighing yourself, you turned to Arthur, “See what I have to deal with?”

“‘Seems like a handful.”

“Daniel is harmless, he's just an alcoholic.”

“Never met a harmless alcoholic.”

“He's harmless now, he doesn't want to risk almost getting shot again.”

Arthur laughed, sitting at the bar, just like had yesterday, “Who shot at him?”

You stared at him for a moment.

“You?”

“I gave him plenty of warning, see that hole in the wall that there—” you pointed to the very back wall of the tavern, between two tables was a loosely patched hole, “- warning shot, missed him by an inch.”

“Who the hell taught you how to shoot?”

“I taught myself, maybe I could teach you sometime.”

“Very funny, y/n, I wouldn't mind seeing you shoot sometime though.”

“There's a range in the next town, I could take you there sometime.”

The two of you talked until the sun had fully set and the town had gone quiet. The bar made you feel more open somehow, it always did. Arthur helped too, you guess. You missed him, you missed being like this, so normal with him. You were surprised his quickly things settled back in place, like neither of you had ever left. It was clear that you were different, but Arthur seemed to accept this change flawlessly. He never messed up, seemingly having ingrained every aspect of your new life into his mind.

Y/n, Mr.Y/n, Sir, he even called you handsome, you swear you nearly fell over when he did.

By midnight, you both were tired, and despite what he planned before, which was bringing you- if it was you, back to camp with him. But that plan never fell through, you ended up pulling him into the bathroom with you. You thought you'd be uncomfortable at first, but you figured if he was going to be back in your life you should get used to him seeing you naked again. But it wasn't, it was calm, comforting. You were thankful for your massive bath, the both of you fit well, you sat behind him, his hat tossed in on top of the heap of clothes you two had left, you ran your fingers through his hair, water from your hands running down his face. He hummed in contempt. He didn't speak much at first, simply enjoying you and your presence. It wasn't until the water had begun to cool and the cold air of the Nevada night started to seep in did he pressed himself closer to you, muttering something quietly.

It wasn't until you got out, long after the water cooled, we're you able to figure out what he was saying. You had some clothes you figured might fit Arthur, something you'd bought impulsively without actually checking to see if you could fit it.

“You have…nice arms-” he muttered.

You were pulling your pants up over your waist when he spoke, you turned to look at him, one hand holding your unbuttoned pants up, you asked, “Arthur, are you drunk?”

“No, no I'm just…real tired.”

“Didn't get much sleep?”

“I didn't sleep, I kept thinking of you.”

“When was the last time you slept?”

He groaned, “Tuesday, I was on watch Wednesday, I was pre occupied by your ass on Thursday, and now here we are.”

“Fucking Christ, go to sleep.”

“I want to look at you, I missed you-”

“I'll be here in the morning Arthur.”

He didn't respond for a long moment, you figured he dozed off finally, until you decided to switch shirts, shoving the one you had on into your drawer and pulling out another.

“You have a nice back too-”

“Good night, Arthur.”

Your night ended with you curling up around Arthur, your arms nearly wrapped completely around him. You didn't dream again tonight, your usual fantasies of seeing Arthur were deemed useless now and we're thrown out with the rest of today's mental trash.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Not So Happy Birthday Part 2

AN: let's gooooo

Synopsis: Jack feels the consequences of his actions and his birthday is steadily approaching. He's praying that you give him a chance to apologize

Pairing: Ex-boyfriend!Jack Harlow x Ex-girlfriend!Reader

Appearances by: @hoodharlow @nattinatalia @a-moment-captured 💖

Read Part 1 first

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You were currently in the bathroom at the airport trying to use one of your make-up wipes to catch the tears that were continuously falling. 

Your flight had now been delayed for three days and you had been stuck at the airport ever since trying to get back home because the last thing that you were about to do was go crawling back to Jack after accusing you of cheating on him.

All of the money and time you spent trying to make his birthday perfect all for it to come crashing down around you.

Your phone had been dead since you lost your charger or left it at the hotel room which you had shared with Jack and you couldn't buy a new one since you used Apple Pay and had no cash on you until a nice stranger who worked at one of the many gift shops bought one for you. As soon as it had a little charge to it, you were going to call Blanca and Jessica since you were too scared to call your older sister Melissa. 

She was worse than Blanca at times and you knew she would have no hesitations to kill Jack without even asking for an explanation.

You just couldn’t put your finger on how everything could have gone so wrong so quickly. One moment you were talking and laughing with your boyfriend and the next moment he had packed your bags for you and cussed you out and told you to basically get out of his life.

The amount of hurt that you currently felt you couldn’t even put into words. 

Meanwhile, Blanca was getting antsy because she hadn’t heard from you and the two of you usually talked every single day. 

“Jessica, this is going on day three and we haven’t heard from her and I’m starting to think the absolute worst. I mean she’s with Jack so I know she’s safe, but still. She would at least check in with us from time to time to let us know she was alright.”

Jessica was currently scrolling through her phone as she looked at all of the unanswered text messages she sent to you while Blanca looked down at the thirteen unanswered calls from you and finally broke down and decided to call Ace and Jessica agreed. 

“Just call Ace at this point, he’s got to know something. But if something had happened, I would have thought that he would have said something by now.” Jessica responded while putting her phone down on the coffee table as Panchito jumped in her lap. 

“Hello?”

“Ace…. you have ten seconds to tell me where my best friend is and if she’s okay.” Blanca said while putting the phone on speaker so Jessica could hear the conversation too. 

“Wait… she’s not at home with you?!” Ace asked, suddenly starting to panic. 

“Why would she be?! Shouldn’t she be with her boyfriend?!?” Jessica exclaimed and now Blanca could feel her eyes watering because every possible scenario of you being hurt was going through her head. 

“Umm about that…”

“About WHAT?” Blanca responded knowing that Jack was somehow to blame.

“Long story short. Druski saw the two of us out together and we were planning the surprise party, but you already knew that. He took pictures, showed him to Jack and of course Jack and his trust issues assumed the absolute fucking worst and broke up with her. Like apparently he packed her bags and bought her plane ticket home without letting her explain anything. He basically thought she was cheating on him with me. I haven’t heard from her because I thought she was ignoring me! She should have been home by now! THAT WAS THREE DAYS AGO!”

“I am going to fucking kill him. How dare he hurt her like that when she was doing all of this shit for him!?”

“That’s exactly what I told him. Me and Jack haven’t talked since this whole thing happened and now… damn… I don’t want to tell him we haven’t heard from her but…”

“No, fucking tell him and then also tell him that I will cut his dick off and feed it to him for hurting my best friend. How the fuck are we even supposed to find her? Her phone is obviously dead because it keeps going to voicemail! Shit, shit, shit!”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Just.. let me call her sister Melissa. Jack really shouldn’t be worried about me or Jessica once Melissa finds out what he did. He better go in the witness protection program right along with Druski.”

After Ace had hung up with Blanca all he did was rest his head in his hands because he had no idea where to start.

Today was an off day for Jack and him, Druski, and the rest of PG were just having a day out since Jack had been moping ever since you left. He had no one to blame but himself as well as Druski, but they wanted to drag him outside to hopefully get his mind off of it. Ace was the last one to make it to the sprinter van and it was awkward as he and Jack made eye contact. Jack quickly looked down and paid attention to his phone.

“What in the world happened between you two and why are you shooting daggers at each other? Well, Ace more so than Jack.” Neelam asked, looking at the awkward exchange.

When no one responded, she asked another question.

“And where in the world is Y/N? And why did she just abruptly leave? This whole time I thought she was just umm… getting certain things together and that’s why I hadn’t seen her, but Quiiso told me otherwise.”

The tension could have been cut with a knife until Ace finally spoke up, not wanting to wait any longer since Neelam was clearly waiting for an explanation. 

“Umm, Jack, Druski just to let you know Y/N never made it home and she’s now missing since no one has heard from her. So we can thank you two for that.”

“WHAT?!” Everyone in the van exclaimed, but Jack was the loudest. His calls to you were going straight to voicemail and his texts were going unanswered but he didn’t think anything of it because you were obviously pissed at him and had a right to be.

“JACK, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!” Neelam asked while looking over at him, but had instead turned his attention to Ace to get more of an explanation. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN MISSING?!” Jack said while looking at Ace in disbelief. 

Now his head was spinning and he felt his heart beating out of his chest and he was literally trying to do his best in order to keep it together. 

“Blanca and Jessica haven't heard from her in three days and the three of them talk every day, multiple times a day and that isn’t like her. Something had to happen and if she’s hurt, you best believe that me along with Jess, Blanca, and Melissa are going to kick your ass. All of this shit could have been avoided if you would have just come to us and asked us but no what did you do? Listen to the dumbass next to you and not get all the facts.”

“But you have to admit…”

“I’m not admitting shit because nothing happened.” Ace replied while eyeing Druski who simply held up his hands in defense.

“I got an idea to get her back though!” Druski said while smiling while Jack just rolled his eyes.

“Her favorite flowers and some chocolate! Or… what if you serenade her? Luv is Dro perhaps? Come on, she can’t say no to that. Hit her with them side strokes! Gets them every time. But I mean if we’re really going for it….” Druski added and everyone now followed suit with Jack and rolled their eyes and he was cut off by Urban.

“Did your dumbass really just say that? It’s going to take a fucking miracle for her to even get her to say two words to either of you.” Urban commented while looking at him confused. Urban had tried to call you too when he found out but once again didn’t think anything of it because he knew that you were upset at his best friend and probably didn’t want to talk to him either. 

“What in the world happened for the last damn time?! Someone fill me in!” Neelam said clearly annoyed.

“Druski took it upon himself to take pictures of me and Y/N and send them to Jack with the idea that she was cheating on him with me when all we were doing was planning his birthday party, but everyone here knew that. Obviously except for him because like I said before, I’m trying to get at Blanca, but now that she has no idea where her best friend is because of me, that probably won’t go anywhere.”

“Jack….. All she literally talks about is you and how excited she was for you to see everything that she did for you. Like you should have seen how her face lit up every time someone mentioned you and Druski…. I get that you were trying to be a good friend, but you should have gotten facts first. Y/N is a true sweetheart and she’s told me how she had gotten cheated on before too and the last thing that she would do is cheat on Jack especially with one of his best friends. Now we have two single unhappy people all because of a misunderstanding, but wait… that still doesn’t tell me where she is.”

“Jack cussed her out and kicked her off the tour. Packed her bags, handed her a plane ticket and told her to be gone before he got back from his show and now her phone is obviously dead because no one has talked to her and that was three days ago.” Ace replied, finally getting the entire story from Druski last night. 

All Neelam did was hang her head in disbelief.

“I honestly don’t think you know all that she was planning and everything she went through for you. She hasn’t even met your parents or grandparents in person yet, but still reached out to them to get them to come out here for you. This has to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done and you deserve to be single.” Urban explained and all Jack did was run his hand through his curls clearly frustrated. 

Right before Blanca was going to call Melissa her phone went off indicating a facetime call from you and she immediately answered.

“OH MY GOD, DO NOT EVER FUCKING DO THAT AGAIN!” Blanca exclaimed as your face came into view and Jessica immediately ran to the phone to see that you were in fact, okay. 

“I promise, I won’t.” You quietly answered and Blanca knew what Ace had told her was true. You were at the airport and your boyfriend thought that you cheated on him.

“Okay um Ace filled me in so we don’t have to talk about that right now. But what we do need to talk about is how we’re going to get you back home. I can call your parents…”

“NO! Just….” You thought about how you told your parents all that you were doing for Jack and would ask way too many questions about why you had suddenly left him. 

“They can have the jet to you in no time! Your flight has been delayed for three days and I need to physically see you in front of me to know that you’re okay. I mean I know you aren’t, but like I said we’ll discuss it later. I’m calling Melissa and telling her we need the private jet to go and get you and do not fight me on this. I have to save my energy to fight Jack and Druski.”

Well, telling Melissa was probably the lesser of the two evils.

You were now on a flight headed home with your big sister Melissa after having to stay at the airport for another six hours and your head was currently in her lap as you continued to cry your eyes out.

“Are you going to tell me what he did or am I going to have to pull it out of you? I mean I could just ask Blanca and Jessica, but I want to hear it from you. You have barely said two words to me since I came to get you.”

After a few more sniffles, you finally said in a quiet voice,

“He accused me of cheating on him. I’m assuming he thought with Ace since that’s the only thing that really makes sense. But I have no idea how he jumped to that conclusion. All we were doing was planning his surprise party for him, but all of PG was behind it except Urban since I was going to do something for him too and fly out his younger sister. I tried to keep it from Urban too, but that kind of went out the window.”

“Oh.”

“Melissa, please do not do anything crazy. I know that you want to kill him.”

“No promises. He hurt my baby sister so his ass needs to deal with the consequences. How dare he do that and think that he’ll get away with it?”

“He packed my bags and handed me a plane ticket and basically cussed me out in not so many words.”

“His ass is in for it now. Don’t make me tell them to turn this plane around because I will. No one talks to you that way.”

“NO! I just want to go home and forget that this relationship ever happened. It’ll just be easier that way.”

“But you really like him.”

“Liked. Past tense. I don’t like men who accuse me of things without even asking me and giving me no explanation. That’s something that little boys do. I don’t want anything to do with him.”

“Well, what about the party, what’s happening with that?”

“Ace has the key to the house where it’s going to take place and will give it to the staff in the morning of his birthday so that everyone can get in. I’ll still throw it for him, but I won’t be anywhere in sight.”

“You’re better than me because his ass can fuck all the way off.”

“I just… I don’t want all my hard work to go to waste and even though he did what he did, he does deserve this because he does work so hard and I did want to do something nice for him, but best believe after this party is over, I’m blocking him.”

“Good girl, but before you do that, I need to have some choice words with him.”

“Hmm, you, Blanca, Jessica, Ace, and Panchito apparently.”

“But Panchito can’t bite Jack, he’ll be on house arrest again if he does.”

“Blanca might make an exception in this case.”

You had now been home for about a week and a half and Jack’s party would be taking place tomorrow since everything was now officially in place.

Blanca let Ace know that you were okay, but you hadn’t talked to him since everything happened either.

It was nothing against him at all, you were just still so extremely hurt by the entire thing.

Jessica had offered to make the two of you carne asada fries and you took this opportunity to unlock your phone and check your notifications. 

Jack had been blowing up your phone non-stop to the point where you had to specifically silence his notifications. All he said he wanted to do was to speak to you and apologize, but you weren’t having it. 

You would open the messages and not respond so Jack knew that you were reading them. Meanwhile, you had been in steady communication with Maggie to let her know all of the flight details and that they would have a private driver take them to the house once they landed on the airstrip. 

What you didn’t tell her was that you wouldn’t be in attendance. You were obviously good at hiding behind text messages, but if you were to see him in public, you knew that you would either want to immediately cuss him out or break down and cry or both. 

The last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of everyone, especially his parents since they hadn’t even met you in person before.

Ace promised to keep you updated about the party, but you honestly couldn’t care less. But at the same time, it would look weird if you weren’t at your “boyfriend’s” birthday party since you had basically planned the entire thing.

If you actually decided to go, you were definitely about to bring back up with you. 

Back up meaning Jessica, Blanca, and Melissa. 

You knew your heart and knew deep down that you were a good person and that your soulmate was going to make himself known when the time was right because obviously that person was not Jack as much as you wanted it to be. 

Scrolling and looking through all of the text messages that Jack sent you, you decided to send him one and you promised that this would be the last time that you ever did this. You didn’t deserve how he treated you and you damn sure weren’t about to go through that again. 

You- Have fun at your party and have a nice fucking life. Oh and happy birthday, I guess. 

And you then immediately blocked him. 

Jack woke up to seeing multiple text messages from different family and friends wishing him happy birthday, but the only person that he wanted to hear from was you and knew that was a long shot. He hadn’t been sleeping or eating properly since you left and had found out that you in fact did not cheat on him. It had gotten worse when Ace had told him that no one had heard from you.

All you’ve been doing is reading his text messages and not responding or ignoring his calls.

He definitely didn’t blame you with how you were acting towards him and knew that he deserved it. He just wanted to talk to you in person so that he could properly apologize to you. Doing it over a text message was not enough. He disrespected you to your face, so he felt that it was only right to apologize to you to your face.

He pulled out the necklace that you had gotten for him for what he assumed was one of his many birthday gifts with ‘KY’ on it. He noticed that you had left it on the dresser and opened it to see what it was. He didn’t even know if you realized that you had left it. But what were you going to do with it if you had taken it with you anyway?

He knew about the surprise party since it wasn’t really a surprise anymore since Ace had obviously told him after he had sent you home. The only thing that he wanted to do today was lay in bed and complain about missing his ex-girlfriend, but of course he couldn’t disappoint his friends and family that had come all this way to see him which he once again wasn’t supposed to know. He could finally let out a sigh of relief when Urban had told him that you finally responded to him and that you were okay. When he found out that no one had heard from you, he debated on leaving and going to your home state of New York to find you, but where would he even begin?

As much as he didn’t want to, he started to get ready since Ace had told him the time that they would be picked up from the hotel and taken to the house that was in Paris.

How fucking ironic.

You had told Jack that this was one of your favorite places in the world and couldn’t wait to be able to come here and experience it with him. It only made sense for her to have his party here. 

Now, you would never get a chance to, all because of him accusing you of cheating.

As they were pulling up to the house, Shloob’s eyes went wide looking at how big it was on the outside.

“Damn, Jack you truly are a dumbass. Look at this! Look at everything that she did for you. Sorry to call you a dumbass on your birthday, but…”

Jack didn’t even bother responding, he just stared at the text message that you had sent him a few minutes ago and attempted to send one back when he found out that you had officially blocked him.

He was actually surprised that it took you this long. 

“When your ass gets in here, you better act surprised and don’t let all her hard work go to waste.” Ace said while being the first one to hop out of the sprinter van and make his way inside. 

Jack and Urban were the last ones to make it inside and were greeted by everyone screaming happy birthday to the two of them. Deep down, Jack was hoping that you for some strange reason would still show up to the party in order for him to be able to apologize, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath.

If Melissa, Blanca, and Jessica knew, he didn’t stand a chance.

So, today he would attempt to enjoy his party and tomorrow, he was going to be on the first flight to New York and was praying that you would at least listen to what he had to say. 

He just had to get through your sister and best friends first, and he couldn’t forget about Blanca’s dog Panchito. 

Jack’s jaw was on the floor when he saw that everything in the house was Louisville themed and there was a small display that had all of the venues that Jack had performed at around Louisville with the KFC Yum Center being in the middle and being the biggest one, while on the other side was actual pictures that you had taken of Urban entitled ‘The one time the photographer let me steal his camera’ and in the middle was the banner that said Happy 25th Birthday Jack and Urban along with baby pictures of the both of them underneath it.

Ace and Neelam weren’t lying when they said that you had gone all out for him. 

Even though Urban had a hand in planning this party for Jack, he had no idea that you had been planning all of this for him too until his younger sister came from around the corner and tackled him in a bone crushing hug while Jack went to greet his parents as well as grandparents.

As he was hugging Maggie, she whispered in his ear,

“You have an amazing girlfriend and you better not do anything stupid. I like her, so where is she so I can finally meet her in person?”

Jack didn’t get a chance to answer as the lights dimmed and everyone’s attention was now on the large projector screen in the backyard and your face suddenly appeared. You had filmed this about a month ago and at the time couldn’t wait for Jack to see it, but now you wish that you would have deleted it. 

“I hope that everyone is having an amazing time since the birthday boys have finally arrived. I wanted to do something special for the both of you since I know how hard the two of you work and that deserves to be celebrated. So first off say thank you to Ace for helping me make all of this happen and Jack, I know we haven’t been dating for very long but I definitely once again thank Ace for introducing us. Since you’ve come into my life I’ve felt nothing but happiness and you have shown me how I deserve to be treated. I hope you see many more birthdays and I’m definitely blessed to be able to call you my boyfriend and how could I forget Urban? Sometimes the photographer deserves to be in front of the camera so thank you for letting me do our little photoshoot and thank you for sharing your best friend with me.”

Next was a slideshow that featured you, Jack, Urban, Neelam, Ace, 2fo, Shloob, Quiiso, Nemo, and they were all pictures from his current tour so far and ended with a picture of simply Jack and Urban when they were younger. 

Well, if he didn’t already feel shitty before, he felt it even more so now. 

Jack and Urban went around mingling with everyone from outside near the pool area and back inside near the mini Louisville display, but Urban could tell that he was distracted and almost felt bad for him. Almost.

“You’re looking for her aren’t you?” Urban whispered in his ear and Jack sighed before he simply nodded.

“Well, the night isn’t over so you never know. I… just… I hope she at least lets you apologize to her but….”

“I’ll be lucky if she even lets me do that. You didn’t see the look on her face when I basically told her to leave and… shit. I wish I could take it all back. If she has her bodyguards with her, I can forget it.”

“Wait! She has bodyguards?! Since when?!”

“Her sister and best friends and I might as well throw Panchito in there too. But at least he can’t bite me because he’ll be on house arrest again if he does.”

“But we’re in a different country so do those same rules apply?” Urban curiously asked.

“Ehh, probably not.”

Jack had gone over to talk to Bryson and was over there for a few minutes before Neelam tugged on his arm. You had sent her a text earlier in the day telling her that you were in fact in Paris and that you would be at the party. All she told you was that she would support whichever decision you made regarding Jack and it felt nice to hear her say that.

“Hmm?”

“Get Urban and go in the middle of the room, it’s time for the cake.”

Next thing Jack knew, he heard your voice singing happy birthday to him and Urban and carrying a Pokemon themed cake out to where he was. Everyone else had joined in singing with you, but Jack kept his eyes on you the entire time not believing that you were in fact standing in front of him. He looked at the outfit you were wearing and his mouth was hanging wide open. Neelam was recording the interaction as you had finally reached the middle with the two of them and waited for them to blow out the candles. 

Since the caterer that you were going to get had originally messed up the cake, it was too late to find someone else so you decided to make it yourself. It took you calling your grandmother who was vacationing in Hawaii who was not happy you had interrupted her surfing lessons, but she of course helped you anyway.

The perks of being the youngest grandchild.

And you had done it this morning when you had flown in from New York with Melissa, Jessica, and Blanca in tow.

Of course they were also there, but were standing to the side keeping a close eye on Jack as well as Druski.

Druski had made eye contact with Blanca and quickly looked away. He was going to make it his mission to hide from her for the entire night. 

Once the two of them blew out the candles, you caught Jack off guard when you reached up to kiss him and he eagerly kissed you back knowing that this was probably the last time that this would ever happen.

“Happy birthday to my favorite person in the entire universe.” You quietly said while not taking your eyes off of him and it tugged at his heart to hear you say that knowing you were only trying to keep up with the appearance of making sure everyone still thought the two of you were together.

But what Jack didn’t know is that you were being truthful in what you said. Yes, he had definitely hurt you, but up until a week and a half ago he definitely had been your favorite person in the entire universe. You just wanted to block out what happened and despite what he did wanted for him to enjoy his birthday. 

Jack made it up in his mind that he had to make it his mission to get you alone in order to properly apologize to you before the night was over. Because he knew that he might not get another opportunity. 

“Okay lovebirds! Break it up! Save it for later!”

The both of you laughed as you had then set the cake down Melissa had given each of them a knife in order to cut it.

You were a little nervous about giving her the task of handing them the knives, but she had promised you that she wasn’t going to stab Jack or Druski with them.

After they had cut the cake, different guests had whisked you away to talk to you including Jack’s family which you were actually dreading.

Not because you were nervous to meet them, but because after this, they probably weren’t going to see you anymore.

As you were talking to Maggie, Jack took this as an opportunity to come up behind you and slide his arm around your waist and kiss your cheek which you gladly accepted.

It was now or never despite his heart rate increasing and feeling as if it was about to burst out of his chest. 

“Jack, you better not let her go. I’m serious. I like this one.” Maggie said while eyeing him and he did his best to keep a playful look on his face despite knowing that he had already lost you and probably lost you for good.

“You don’t have to worry about that, but in the meantime all of you have been stealing my girlfriend all night and it’s my turn.”

“Fine, but bring her back once you’re done!”

Jack simply leaned down and whispered in your ear,

“Please let me properly apologize to you. Is there somewhere we can go where it will just be the two of us?”

You simply nodded your head.

“Come on and follow me.”

You looked behind you to make sure that no one had spotted the two of you and made your way upstairs to the bedroom that you usually occupied every time your family came to stay here.

You made sure to lock the door behind the two of you and then turned around to face Jack who had a nervous look on his face. He was wearing his glasses and you were doing your best to not fold right then and there.

“First off, thank you for doing this for me. I know it took a lot of time and effort and I’m definitely grateful because you didn’t have to.”

“You’re welcome.” You quietly said while trying to look everywhere but Jack’s eyes.

“I don’t think I can put into words how sorry I am for what I did. I was wrong to just go off what someone had said without even asking you about it. Deep down, I knew you wouldn’t cheat on me, especially with Ace. But, I admit that I got scared. That feeling of being cheated on is something that I never want to go through again and I figured if I pushed you away that there wasn’t a chance of that happening despite how much I want to be with you. I can understand if after tonight you want nothing to do with me, but I at least owe you this much and I’ll probably never forgive myself for the way I talked to you because you definitely didn’t deserve that. I just…. There honestly isn’t an excuse for it. And the fact that you were M.I.A. for three days because of me too and I…” 

“I appreciate the apology.”

“And thank you for still keeping the persona of us still being together when we were downstairs.”

“Of course, but I meant what I said.” At this point, there was no reason to lie. 

“Meant what?”

“That you were still my favorite person in the universe despite what you did and I feel so stupid for saying that. I cared about you so much and I still do! I flew from New York for you at 2 am so I could make your cake for you because the caterer had messed it up so it would be ready in time! And…” 

You couldn’t help but start to cry and Jack didn’t know if it was okay to step towards you or not, but he did anyway.

As much as you wanted to push him away, you didn’t.

“I don’t deserve that title, maybe I did two weeks ago, but not now.”

“As much as this hurts for me to say, despite how much I just want to be with you and forgive you and forget this entire thing ever happened, I honestly don’t know if I can.”

Now it was Jack’s turn for his eyes to begin to water, but he knew the moment that you agreed to talk to him that this would probably be the end result. 

“I understand.”

“I wish we could go back in time and change the past, but we can’t. I’m surprised that I’m actually this calm and didn’t know how I was going to react when I saw you. But, Jack, I am not her and I would have never hurt you that way. I know about your trust issues and all I honestly wanted to do is show you that love does exist and that you deserve to have it.”

“And I know that now.”

“We’re probably better off as friends.” You confessed without looking at him and you didn’t know if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

“I… please Y/N, we both know that’s not going to work. I understand why you feel as though you don’t want to give me another chance and I know I damn sure probably don’t deserve it, but if you give me one, I promise that nothing like that will ever happen again. I know this might not seem like the best time to do this, but I was hoping that you would come so I could give this to you...” Jack then pulled a jewelry box from his back pocket and your eyes went wide as he opened it. 

“It’s a promise ring and I was going to give it to you before everything happened. It’s only been three months, but the best three months that I could have ever asked for. If you give me another chance, I will spend the rest of our lives making this up to you.”

You were speechless. 

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[winxanity-ii]

⌜Know No Evil | Chapter 16 Chapter 16 | symbol's demise⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

Aizawa frowned at the villains. "The trespassing the other day was the work of these scumbags after all, huh?"

Your eyebrow shot up. The revelation sparking a memory that instantly transported you back to the chaotic stampede in the hallway just a few days ago.

If you weren't mistaken, after the alarm was signaled, it was only seconds before you found yourself bumping into an unknown figure.

...Could it be?...

"Where is he? I went through the trouble of bringing this whole crowd, too...All Might...The Symbol of Peace...And he's not here?" The blue haired man asked, his voice raspy and gravely. "I wonder if he'll come if we kill some kids?"

"They want All Might," you murmured to yourself, a sly smile playing on your lips hidden behind your hand, enjoying the growing tensions. "How utterly predictable."

Aizawa's signature weapon, Capturing Weapon, whipped into action. It unfurled with a metallic snap, defying gravity as it hovered menacingly beside him, charged with unseen energy.

A crimson glow ignited in his eyes, piercing through the darkness of his goggles, and his unruly black hair bristled upwards like a wild animal's mane.

The students can only stare at the approaching villains in disbelief as their teacher activated his Erasure quirk, the transformation a stark contrast to his usual stoic demeanor with the present threat.

"What? Villains? No way...There's no way they could get into a hero school!" Kirishima Eijiro exclaimed, his voice laced with worry.

Yaoyorozu, a tall teenage girl with a mature physique, echoed his concern. Her onyx eyes, sharp and intelligent, darted between the villains and Thirteen, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Yeah, Thirteen-sensei," she said, voicing her own question. "Why aren't the alarms going off? What about the trespasser sensors??"

Thirteen offered a helpless shrug, just as clueless as everyone else. "We have them, of course, but..." she trailed off, unsure on how to finish her sentence.

Todoroki's voice cut through the tension, calm and collected despite the chaos, cut through the tension. "Did they only appear here, or around the whole school?"

Internally, you scoffed. Here you all were, a small class of about 22 pre-hero students, squeezed between two actual heroes and surrounded by a sea of hundreds of villains. This wasn't the time for a fucking seminar!

Weren't these supposed future heroes supposed to have some kind of... instinct? Survival sense? Anything besides the urge to hold a strategy meeting while they were clearly outnumbered and outgunned?

You gritted your teeth, the hero-hopeful facade you usually maintained cracking around the edges.

This was insane.

"Either way, if the alarm sensors aren't being triggered, then one of these villains must have a quirk that's masking their presence," you interjected, voice coolly analytical. "They carefully chose this isolated facility as an entry point at a time when a class was being taught. They're fools for trespassing here, but they've thought this out. Whatever their plan is, their objective ends with the death of All Might."

"Thirteen, start the evacuation and try calling," Aizawa ordered, his voice firm. "These villains even had something to counteract the sensors. It's possible someone with radio-wave-type powers is interfering." He turned towards Kaminari. "Kaminari. You try contacting the school with your Quirk, too."

Kaminari blinked in surprise but nodded, a determined glint in his eyes. "Yes, sir!"

"What about you, sir? You can't fight them on your own! There's too many of them! Even if you can nullify their quirks, your fighting style's not suited for this!" Midoriya yelled, his voice laced with panic. "Your power works best in stealth and one-on-one fights after erasing the enemy's Quirk. That's not going to help with a group!"

For a moment, Aizawa glanced back at the panicking boy. "You can't be a hero with just one trick," he said before turning to his colleague. "I'll leave it to you, Thirteen." And with that, he was off, jumping down the staircase towards the approaching villains.

As the 1-A students ran, following Thirteen, you, however, remained rooted to the spot for a moment, your gaze glued to the unfolding scene.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight of Aizawa effortlessly dismantling the villains, his movements a testament to his experience.

With a flick of his wrist, he dodged a villain's punch, using the momentum to sweep another off their feet. His capture weapon, scarf-like and dark, snaked out, wrapping around a third villain and yanking them close before they could unleash their quirk.

It was like watching a dance, a deadly ballet where Aizawa dictated the steps.

A sudden yank on your wrist jolted you back to reality.

Disgust flared in your gut, quickly followed by a wave of irritation and anger. How dare one of these lowlife-villains have the audacity to touch you? You whipped your head around, expecting to see a villain's face contorted with a menacing grin.

Instead, you met the scowling gaze of none other than Bakugo.

Despite the initial shock, your body instantly relaxed at the sight of your "pet."

"The hell are you doing? Get moving, princess!" he barked, his voice laced with a thread of concern he wouldn't admit.

A brow rose, smile played on your lips upon realizing he'd bestowed a new nickname upon you—"Princess." Despite the rather pompous title, you couldn't help but find a hint of amusement in it as well as wonder where and when he'd come up with it.

You allowed him to pull you along, effortlessly matching his pace as you rejoined the fleeing group of Class 1-A students that were nearing the supposed safety of the exit.

Suddenly, the air shimmered and the same unsettling mist from before materialized, solidifying into the form of the portal villain they'd encountered earlier. Panicked gasps erupted from the students as everyone skidded to a halt.

His voice dripped with a chilling formality as he addressed the group. "There's no use of escape. I won't allow it." His glowing yellow eyes scanned the students, lingering on each face with a simmering contempt. "Despite the circumstances, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Kurogiri, and we are the League of Villains." He bowed slightly, the gesture incongruous with the dire situation.

"And while it may seem impolite of us," Kurogiri continued, his voice taking on a sinister edge, "we have taken the liberty of inviting ourselves into this haven of justice, U.A. High School..." He paused dramatically, letting the weight of his words hang heavy in the air.

"...with the sole purpose of having All Might, the Symbol of Peace, take his last breath."

The students erupted in a fresh wave of gasps, some teetering on the verge of hysteria.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Bakugo. His face was contorted with rage; his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth seemed ready to shatter. He radiated an aura of barely contained fury, his explosions crackling faintly around his clenched fists. His whole body vibrating with suppressed rage.

For a moment, you considered letting him stew and calm down. But a mischievous glint sparked in your eye.

Where was the fun in that?

With a playful smile tugging at your lips, you leaned closer to Bakugo. As if brushing away a stray speck of dust, you projected a forceful thought—"Get him!"—repeating it like a war chant in his mind.

The change is instantaneous—a relentless drumbeat that stoked the flames of Bakugo's already simmering anger.

His scowl deepened into a fearsome snarl, a low growl rumbling from his throat. Veins pulsed on his temples as the red in his eyes intensified, his anger reaching a feverish pitch. Kirishima, ever observant of his friend, leaned over with concern etched on his face. "Hey, BakuBro, you alright?"

You let out a barely audible tsk, your amusement momentarily dampened by the potential for Kirishima's intervention.

Without wasting another second, you seized the opportunity. Extending your focus, you targeted Kirishima as well. His normally carefree demeanor vanished as your quirk infiltrated his mind, replicating Bakugo's volatile state.

Kirishima's eyes widened, his signature shark-like grin replaced by a snarl mirroring Bakugo's.

Kurogiri, seemingly unfazed by the sudden range of emotions, continued, "I believe All Might should have been here. Has there been some kind of change? Ah, well, in the end, I suppose it doesn't matter. I still have a role to play—" He trailed off, preparing to act.

But before he could do anything, Bakugo and Kirishima launched themselves at him in a blur of fury. A colossal blast erupted from Bakugo's palms, engulfing the hallway in a cloud of dust.

The other students flinched back, momentarily blinded by the explosion.

As the smoke slowly cleared, a tense silence descended upon the group.

"Did you consider that you'd get beaten by us before you did that?!" Kirishima snarled, his hands hardened into their usual crimson battle-ready state. He stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Bakugou, a united front of barely contained rage.

When the dust settled, the picture that emerged was far from the victory they'd hoped for. Kurogiri stood there, completely unharmed, a hint of amusement flickering within his gleaming eyes.

Not a single ember of Bakugou's attack seemed to have touched him.

"Oh dear," Kurogiri remarked in a voice that was surprisingly calm considering the situation, " that's dangerous. That's right. Even if you are students, you are excellent  'golden eggs.'" He scanned the group of young heroes-in-training, his words carrying a weight that sent shivers down their spines.

Thirteen's panickily screamed, "Move away, you two!" her voice laced with urgency.

But it was too late.

Kurogiri's form began to warp and expand, his misty figure growing taller and more menacing. His voice boomed with a newfound power, shaking the very foundation of the facility. "My job is to scatter you all... to your deaths!"

Panic erupted among the students.

Bakugo whirled around, his eyes locking with yours for a fleeting moment. A single word, "____!" erupted from his lips, his voice laced with a raw fear he rarely displayed.

But before you could even react, before you could blink or utter a single sound, Kurogiri's form engulfed you all, a swirling vortex of dark mist that took up the entire hallway. The swirling mist tendrils snaked out, wrapping around each student in its cold embrace.

The last thing you saw was Bakugou's face, etched with worry and a futile attempt to grab your hand as the darkness swallowed you whole.

Then, nothing.

A/N: it's just something about kurogiri being polite that makes me feral😔🤌🏾

[yeaimsafiya]

EUPHORIA

CHAPTER ONE* back from rehab extended

SYPNOSIS the beginning of a teenage girl named y/n who is fresh out of rehab but doesn't intend to stay clean.

FROM THE WRITER I'M SORRY GUYS!! Yes I know I was supposed to post this part FOUR FLIPPING MONTHS AGO but I got so busy with school that I forgot that I was supposed to upload (and also took a break bc school is fckin tiring). BUT ITS HERE, THE FULL CHAPTER! This chapter has most of the first half from last time but if you don't want to re-read it, please skip to the third cut of this one. I Love you guys so much and I'll have most of my chapters out when I can this and next month- Love you all, Sapiyah <3

WARNINGS Lots of unnecessary writing, female! reader, VERY LONG CHAPTER, mentions of drugs and drinking, strong sexual content, nudity, violence, adult content, adult language, scenes might be uncomfortable for some, some scenes might include mentions of mental illness'

SERIES EUPHORIA

CHARACTERS INCLUDED members of the bakusquad & dekusquad, big three(?), some characters of class 1A

NOTES MDNI! Ageless blogs will be either blocked or removed

Readers discretion is advised

Suddenly, the whole world goes dark and nothing else matters except for the person standing in front of you.

i. <3

You were once happy. Content.

Sloshing and swimming around your own private, primordial pool; Then one day, for reasons beyond your control, you were continuously and repeatedly crushed...

Over..and over.. again by the cervix of your mother, M/n.

You put up a good fight, but eventually lost, for the first time, but not the last.

You were born 3 days after 9/11, your mother and father spent two days in the hospital, holding you under the soft glow of the television, watching those towers fall over and over again, until the feeling of grief gave away to numbness.

And then, without warning, a middle-class childhood in the American suburbs.

|

You were sitting at the dinner table with your mother, M/n, and Father, F/n. But it appeared something else had gotten your attention, a set of numerous lights above the dinner table, in which you wanted to count.

"Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen.."

" What are you looking at y/n?"

"..."

"What are you doing? ..Y-y/n look at me."

"One, two, three, .."

"What are you doing Y/n?"

*cries*

|

"Id say she's suffering from obsessive compulsive disorder..."

Its not like you were physically abused..

"...attention deficit disorder..."

..Or had some type of clean water storage..

"..general anxiety disorder.."

..Or was molested by a family member.

"..and possibly bipolar disorder. But she's a little bit too young to tell."

So, explain this shit to me.

|

"Honey, it's just the way your brain was hardwired; Plenty of great, intelligent, funny, interesting and creative people have struggled with the same things you struggle with."

"Like who?"

"Vincent Van Gogh, Sylvia Plath, and even Brittney Spears, your favorite!"

You haven't remembered much from the ages of eight to twelve. Just that the world moved fast, and your mind moved slow.

"Does anyone have an idea of what a perception might be?"

And every now and then, if you focused on the way you breathed...

You'd die.

"Slow down, just breathe"

Until every second of the day, you'd find yourself trying to outrun your anxiety.

"What's wrong Y/n?"

..And quite frankly..

"I'm just fucking exhausted"

|

Coming down to the kitchen, you could hear the small talk between your mother and younger sister, S/N.

"You said the doctor was in our network. How can he suddenly be out of network?"

"I can't afford it."

"Did you see that video of the girl who got acid thrown at her face?"

"What? No.."

"It's pretty fucked up.."

"Mom do you know where the tampons are?"

"In my bathroom, right under the sink."

And at one point, you'd make a choice of who you are and what you want.

"Alright s/n, let's go"

"Why do the co-payments cost $300?"

"Y/n did you eat breakfast?"

".."

"What's with the glasses?"

"What glasses?"

You just happened to show up one day, without a map or a compass..

"Attention students, we need to lockdown."

..Or to be honest, anyone capable of giving on iota of good fucking advice.

And I know it all seems sad but guess what? You did not build this system up, nor fuck it up yourself.

But then it happens. That moment where your breath starts to slow. And every time you breathe, you breathe out all the oxygen you have.

Then everything stops: Your heart, your lungs, then finally, your brain. And everything you feel, you wish, and want to forget, it all just sinks.

And then suddenly... you give it air again, give it life again.

You remember the first time it happened, where you were so scared you wanted to call 911. Go to the hospital and be kept alive by machines and apple juice. But you didn't want to look like an idiot, and you didn't want to fuck up everyone else's night.

And now overtime, that's all you've wanted.. those two seconds of nothingness.

ii. <3

You spent a good portion of summer before junior year in rehab. God granted you the serenity to accept things you cannot change, the courage to change the things you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

"Y/N," your sister yelled from afar, greeting you after your long leave. You smiled, and whilst running up to her, tried to continue the conversation with your younger sibling.

"Hey, Come here!"

"How are you?"

"Good, I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"Look at you, are you growing?"

"No."

Looking over, you see your mother standing by your family car.

"Hey," you yelled out to her, only to receive a small smile from her.

And with that. you knew it was your time to go.

|

"I'm very happy for you Y/n. You're about to start a brand-new chapter," Your mother says while driving you and your sister to school. You looked at her with a smile, then turned your attention back to the car window.

You had no intentions of staying clean. And yet, Jirou just moved into town.

"There's some new girl in town that I think you'll be friends with," Shoto said, with you standing beside him in his store.

"Who?"

"Shit, I don't know. She came in looking all punk rock and shit; So I'm thinking to myself, like, 'look like somebody Y/n would be friends with'."

Which was sort of a dead-on observation for Shoto, who's not normally revolving in the same direction as planet earth.

"So how long have you been back?" He asked.

"About five days."

"And how are you feeling?"

"I mean, ever since I gave my life over to my lord and savior Jesus Christ, things have been, like, really good."

"Word? That's what's up," You chuckled at his snarky remark, giving him a small smile.

"I'm fucking with you," you said whilst laughing, "It was a joke."

"Shit, hey, I don't judge," he defended, hands raising to just above his chest.

"But for real, is Deku in the back?"

"Are you serious?" Shoto questioned, seeming very disappointed in you.

"What, you think cause' I went to rehab I stayed clean?"

"I mean, ain't that the point?" he asks.

"Yeah, well, the world is coming to an end, and I haven't even graduated high school yet."

You gave Shoto one more smile before going to Deku, whilst Shoto stared at you the entire way there; There was a hint of sadness in his eyes, but since you were too busy looking for Deku, you didn't see.

You opened one of the doors of the refrigerators, leading you right to him with a bowl of fruit loops,"I thought your ass was dead," he said one he saw your appearance.

"And I thought you had Asperger's till I realized your just a prick," you barked back.

"This a fickle industry, y'all come and go. I'm just trying to stack my cash, pay off our mortgage," he said while pulling out a bunch of plastic bags out of a microwave.

"So what the fuck do you want?" You gave him a knowing look before he handed you needed.

"You sure you don't want to try something new?" He asks you.

"Like what?"

"2C-T-2, 2C-T-7, and 5-MeO-DIPT."

"I'm sorry I have no fucking idea of what you just said."

"It doesn't matter," he stated, "but this shit, is fucking lit."

"What is it?"

"N-diisopropyl-5-methoxytryptamine. It's a fast-acting psychedelic."

Got some similarities to LSD, but with, like, key differences. Not as visual as shit, but definitely a sense distorter.

"What's wrong?" That same dark purple hair girl questioned.

"I'm just so happy," you responded back.

"I don't know, this shits been going off in Tampa, and mad people like to fuck with this," Deku continued on with his descriptions with the drug.

"Okay. Yeah, why not."

"That'll be 120."

"Oh uh, Shoto said he'd spot me."

"Shoto doesn't spot nobody."

"Yeah, well, it's a post-rehab discount, so you should ask him."

"And I will go ask him, cause' I know your full of shit."

Those were the last words he said before you walked out. Those were the last words you heard before you saw the same two boys in their freshman year.

Bakugo and Kirishima.

iii. <3

In truth, you really didn't have a problem with Bakugo, but that was before all the bullshit with Jirou. I mean you never liked him, and once, during freshman formal, he tried fingering you on the dance floor without your consent. But like... This was Japan. And if they were throwing an end-of-summer party...

"Yo, I'd do it for Y/n! Haha!"

..Of course you'd fucking go.

|

"Yo, the whole world's gonna be talking about how Kirishima threw the grimmest banger of the summer," The blonde had said, driving in the front seat.

"I don't know bro. You know my mom's a real OCD. She sees one little scratch on the wall, the dishes are out of order-" His red-haired friend said before being interrupted.

"We'll just take a picture of everything. We'll put it back the way we found it."

"The fuck is this? Mission Impossible?" The red-haired asked.

"Could you please stop fucking worrying about your mom? You need to be worrying about all the pussy that we're gonna smash tonight."

"No, no, no, nonono, isn't Ochako coming tonight?"

"Who cares, I'on give a fuck. She's the one who broke up with me in the first place; So fuck her."

"See, no, 'cause she's crazy bakubro. I don't need her coming here and burning my house down."

"Shut the fuck up you red-haired bitch," he snarled back.

"See this is exactly what I've been talking about. Right here," the blonde haired said at the sight of the purple haired girl riding her bike, headphones in her ears; Jirou.

"Bro, don't do anything stupid. Come on let's just go" Kirishima protested, he was not with the blondes idea. But the blonde ignored him as per usual.

"Yo what up B! How about you come and ride this dick?" He yelled at the indigo haired girl, in which she raised the finger back at him.

He laughed at her as she fell from her wobbly bike, slashing her knee onto the pavement; While the red-haired sat and stared.

"What the fuck bro?!" Kirishima replied, concerned as to why his own best friend would do that but cmon, lets be real, it was Bakugo.. he didn't care.

"Whoops."

Jirou moved from the city to the suburbs right wafter her mom and dad had gotten a divorce. She doesn't really like to talk about it, but dads almost never get full custody, so you know some shit had definitely went down.

She went to about three weeks of summer school with Tsuyu, who failed Intro to Visual Arts.

| ------------------------------------------------------------------------ |

"Guys, do you think my areolas look weird?" The pink haired known as Mina asked, right out of the blue.

"No, they look fine to me kero," Tsu replied back; confused as to why she would ask a question like that.

"But like on the edges though.."

"Mina, they're fine."  

"Okay; fine like they look strange or fine like nobody's going to notice them?"

"Fine like shut the fuck up Mina; You're over-exaggerating ," A black haired girl known as Momo had said from the bathroom, annoyed by the brunette's self-degradation.

"Disgusting, I look absolutely disgusting."

"Mina, you need to snap the fuck out of your delusions, your hot as fuck! Bakugo's just a big ass loser who cares?" Tsu argued back.

"He's not just a 'loser'. He's a dick."

"All dicks are losers, obviously."

"Look, besides that, y'all need to walk into this party like your pussy costs a million dollars," the black haired shouted from the bathroom.

"Real, I'd settle for like, at least fifty grand."

"Fifty grand is a million dollars Mina."

"I could settle for, like, four Corona Lights and some non-rapey affection."

"That's sounds depressing."

"Either way, Bakugo's just totally ruined my confidence. I thought he was different but he's just one of those people who are constantly criticizing everything about you."

"Yep. That's about almost every guy."

"Honestly, you just need to catch a dick and forget about your troubles."

"Girl, you just need to catch a dick."

"Seriously, Uraraka, the best thing to do after a recent breakup is to fuck someone completely new, and then move on."

"Please, Momo, remind me again how many guys you've fucked before? And yeah, cat-fishing, that don't count.?"

"Tsu, could you not be a fucking cunt for like, 15 seconds?"

"Hey Mina?" Her father questioned, walking in with no knowledge of the situation in front of him; causing a reaction out of her.

"Dad, stop being a damn pervert! We're literally, like, all naked in here!"

And with that response, her dad had left without a sound.

iiii. <3

"Y/n, where the hell have you been?" Your mother asked, upset and concerned.

"I just went out to eat, nothing else," You lied

"What the hell do you mean, 'you went to eat'?" She questioned.

"What?" You questioned back whilst walking away to calm the situation. However, your mom wasn't going to till she had her answer.

"What?! Don't you walk away from me." She yelled whilst continuing to follow you. And if you'd look close enough, you could visibly see that she was pissed by the way her face heated up.

"You know what, Y/n? I don't even think I can trust you anymore at this point."

"Mom, I don't know what you want me to say."

"I want you to tell me where you were."

"I just said I went to fucking eat!"

"Don't you talk to me like that! You know what? I'm gonna drug test you." She said, but in response, you had slammed the door to your room out of anger and frustration.

"Don't be slamming no doors around here."

"It was an accident."

"I don't care. You're not leaving this house until you take a drug test."

"I just peed!" You shouted, slamming another door in the house.

"Slam another door."

"That girl's gonna be the death of me."

Now see, there's a few ways to beat a drug test. The first is simple. Just stop doing drugs. But if you're in a bind and totally fucked, there are some others.

Option one: niacin. It's a B vitamin that, like, breaks down fat and chemicals or whatever, and if you take a lot of it, like 2,000 milligrams, then chug a few gallons of water, you can flush your system in two to three days. The only problem is, it has a few side effects. Skin flushing, extreme dizziness, vomiting, rapid heartbeat, and sometimes death. I don't recommend it. Nor does any legit drug site on the internet.

Option 2: synthetic urine.. Yeah, fucking right

Option 3: get a non-drug addict friend to piss for you. The only problem is... ...most over-the-counter home drug testing kits come with a heat-sensor strip that detects the temperature of your urine. And if your parents watch you pee, you can't really do the sink trick. So you gotta get it fresh.

"Hey, Rue."

"Hey, I... I need a favor."

"What?"

"I... like for real, Uraraka."

"What?"

"Side effects of this option?"

"Are you serious?"

"Please. Thanks."

"Hey, Rue. How was rehab?" The brunettes mother questioned, sitting on the couch whilst smoking a cigarette.

To be completely honest, it was Shit. But you obviously weren't gonna tell them that were you?

"It was good. It was really good," you lied.

"Well, that's good. How long have you been back?"

"Five days."

"Oh. New chapter then, isn't that great!"

"Mom."

"Hmm?"

You and Uraraka have known each other since pre-school. And like, in some ways she's your best friend, even though you think you've grown apart. You don't really have much in common anymore.

"Did you meet any cute guys there?" Her mother kept asking while you were talking to her.

"Here's that eyeliner."

"Thanks."

"Mom, I have to pee!" You yelled as she entered the bathroom, watching you before her very eyes.

"I wish we could do this in a way that wasn't a complete invasion of my privacy."

"Well, you lost your right to privacy after your overdose."

"That was a mistake."

"Don't be flip, Y/n."

"Could you... Thank you."

You don't understand. This was the most frightening moment a mother could witness. And S/n... ,S/n who absolutely idolizes you...

"Listen, I know Mom.."

"To have her find you unconscious..."

"Can we just... Can we not do this right now, Mom?"

Rue?

Rue.

Rue..?

I know a lot of people probably hate it right now, and you probably get it. If you could be a different person, I promise that you would. Not because you specifically want to, but because they do. And therein lies the catch.

"I'm sorry... for slamming the door earlier."

"It's okay. I forgive you. Come here," she said, embracing you in a 3 minute hug; almost as if she was going to lose you to somebody.

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I spend the night at Uraraka's?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Thanks."

"..Yeah."

All work is subject to copyright by © yeaimsapiyah as of 2024.

Do not steal, use or re-upload my work without given my permission or consent. If so, you will either be blocked and/or removed.

[lincolndjarin]

The Thing That Gives

main masterlist ✧ kinktober masterlist ✦

kinktober : day thirteen - afab!reader x ezra

prompt : tentacles [ 18+ mdni ]

word count : 2.4k

summary : you find yourself in the slimy grip of the unknown.

warnings, etc. : dubcon/noncon (these tags apply to ezra, i wrote a reader who is like really into tentacles), dead dove do not eat, smut, tentacles, reference to pornography (reader reads hentai lmao), sort of tentacle horror i guess lol, reader is into the tenacles of it all like i'm gonna be so honest she's like hell yes about tentacles she's a real weirdo in this (she just like me fr), t in v?? (tencacles in vag??), tentacles in every hole, anal, oral in the tentacle receiving sense, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, ambiguous ending

a/n : i'm so so glad someone requested him with this prompt bc it's so ezra like let's be real. originally i wanted to write something where he's a tentaclly monster and lowkey if people like this i might do that in the future lol. anyhow this is def the craziest thing i've ever written but it was so so much fun, happy friday the 13th!!

“Pretty little thing like you? Shouldn’ta been on the Green in the first place.” 

That’s what that son of a bitch had said when he’d locked you in that abandoned ship ages ago, those words have been replaying in your mind ever since. You’d been skeptical to trust him in the first place, he spoke in strange, strung out sentences and he had a smile that immediately made you suspicious but he’d just been too damn charming. 

It didn’t help that you’d just lost your partner. 

She had been your protector and navigator, as a third generation prospector you were equipped to do one thing, harvest. She had done everything else for you but after an unfortunate incident where her suit had gotten caught on some rubble you were left alone with the entire harvest and no one to watch over you. 

Maybe that’s why you’d been so naive to his allure, and his promises to keep you safe on your journey back to your ship. 

Stupid. 

You practically handed your ship to him on a silver platter. 

“This looks familiar, I think we’re nearby.” 

You had signed your own death certificate with that. 

He’d wrestled you into an abandoned ship minutes later, firmly sealing it shut and taking you entire harvest. He doesn’t even give you enough time to feel angry with those parting words, you just feel dumb. 

It took you days to get out of there. 

You’re lucky you stay stocked up on rations in case of emergencies but you don’t get to feel good about that fact. You’re too busy mourning the loss of your harvest. 

When you finally manage to pry the metal doors open you immediately go off in search of your ship. You’re certain it’s a lost cause. Ezra probably took off ages ago but what else are you supposed to do? So you keep on marching through the Green.

It only takes a few moments more before you’re shocked to see the outline of your ship in the distance. 

Had he somehow missed it? 

Sure he was a scumbag but he was a smart scumbag, he should have found this with ease. It’s an easy hike, down a steep hill and back up another, that’s the quickest, most straightforward way there. 

But of course you fuck even this up, because that’s just your luck these days. 

You stumble over a tree route, tumbling down the hill before your helmet collides with a stone at the bottom, your nose slams against the glass with a sickening crunch and just like that, you’re out cold. 

When you finally come to your senses you’re shocked to find yourself face to face with the man who betrayed you in the first place. You’re used to hearing his sickly sweet, over complicated sentences, you’re convinced he enjoys the sound of his own voice more than anything else on this godforsaken planet. But for the first time since you met him, he’s speechless. 

It doesn’t take much to figure out why, as you blink a few times, clearing up your vision. You rake your eyes across his form, he’s held in place by several slick and constantly moving tentacles, his space suit is in tatters, his helmet thrown to the ground along with your own and you briefly wonder how he’s even breathing, but based on the way his chest rises and falls he’s perfectly fine.

“B-birdie?” He rasps out. Your first instinct is to slap him but you realize quickly that you’re in a similar predicament, your suit discarded on the ground with your limbs being restricted by the throbbing appendages. 

Well this probably isn’t good. 

There’s a lot going on in your head right now. 

You sort of wonder if you died during your fall and this is some sort of afterlife. You’d heard reference to the eternity after this life, people often talked about it but you never really believed it until now. But now you think of the magazines back on your ship and wonder if this is your afterlife, is there some higher power out there who knows you spend your free time looking at dirty magazines featuring people in the exact predicament you found yourself in now? 

That doesn’t exactly make sense though. 

If this was your perfect afterlife it would just be you and the tentacles, why is Ezra here? 

You don’t get much time to question anything going on because the tentacles start pulsing, almost violently, squeezing your limbs tightly before starting to frantically surround you and your ex-partner. 

“No- please, Kevva above.” You watch curiously as a tendril wraps around his throat, he’s a few feet from you, directly across from where you’re propped up. 

You can practically feel the fear coming off of him. You swear he’s about to cry as the tentacles remove his remaining undergarments. 

“Not again, please, please-” His prayers are cut off when one of the pulsing limbs pushes past his swollen lips. You almost feel jealous, is this your afterlife? To watch Ezra living your dream and not appreciating it? You want to feel its sweet caress, sliding into your mouth, slipping under your clothes and holding you with its entire being. You frown, practically green with envy. 

He isn’t even appreciating it. He thrashes and whines through the slimy flesh between his teeth. You don’t have to be bitter for long, the tendrils surrounding you are gentler than his, almost sweet with how they move across your goosebump riddled skin. There’s so many colors, swirling purples and greens and grays until one finally presents itself in front of your face, as if it was looking at you. 

You don’t know what compels you to do it but you open your mouth, letting whatever it is slide across your tongue. Tiny suction cups prodding at your taste buds as it slips further into you. 

You should be choking, or at the very least gagging as it bumps against the back of your throat, but you don’t. Ezra certainly doesn’t seem to have the same luxury, his chest heaves and his eyes water as the tendril in his mouth pushes itself in further. You experimentally let your tongue swirl around the appendage, sucking slightly and you’re rewarded with a sweet taste that hadn’t been there until now, closing your eyes you suck it in deeper, letting it slide further down your throat. 

It’s giving you air. 

That’s how the two of you are still alive, whatever this thing is provides you with it. And you desperately want more. You want to be one of the girls in those comics, you want to be ripped straight out of the magazines you love so much. 

So you moan.

Almost as if to show it how good it makes you feel. How thankful you are. 

And deep within the depths of your subconscious you know how happy that makes it. How long it’s waited to have its affections reciprocated, and in return it is gentle. It doesn’t tear your clothes the way it did Ezra’s, it doesn’t even fully remove them, the tentacles slow from their frenzy as they lift your shirt above the swell of your chest and tug the waistband of your shorts down to your knees. You don’t even get a chance to feel self conscious because at the same time Ezra spits out the tentacle in his mouth, groaning as the remaining scraps of his clothing is fully destroyed, and boy is he a sight. 

How long has he been here? The entire time you were stuck? It looks to be that way, his cock red and aching as the tendrils slide across the already leaking tip. He’s a mess. More so than he usually is. It looks almost painful. How many times has he come? 

You're snapped out of your thoughts when your own tentacles mirror the movements of his. The one in your mouth slowly retreats but you whine, running your tongue against it and it stills, no longer filling your throat but still letting you leisurely suck it. 

Ezra once again opens his mouth to speak but instead of it filling him once more it just slides across the bottom of his face, still rather effectively silencing him. You can feel one of the thicker tentacles spreading your legs, it isn’t much of a strain, the others help keep you balanced. You can’t look down but you’re certain if you did you’d see yourself dripping for this unknown being. You don’t have to wait. It simply slips past your folds and finds its home against your cervix. You almost sound like Ezra now as you scream, except yours is more of a squeal, overjoyed and blissed out as it pulses within you, never actually moving in and out, just expanding and shrinking inside of your weeping cunt. You’re having a bit of trouble focusing in your haze of pleasure but you realize that it moves as one. With every pulse inside of you it matches the pattern when it slides up and down his shaft. 

It’s like he’s fucking you without touching you, sort of.

Although this is better than sex. 

At least for you, Ezra continues to look at you frantically, tears spill from his eyes now and you can tell by how his muscles tense and his balls tighten that he’s coming yet there’s no physical release, it’s like he’s already spent. He doesn’t even have a chance to go soft, the tentacles continue without missing a beat and he’s still hard in their grip. You don’t feel all that bad for him, not after what he did to you, and it’s hard to feel bad about anything when the tendrils wrap themselves around your breasts, circling them until they jut out, a pair of suction cups attaching themselves to the peaks of your nipples, the same happening to Ezra as you both begin writhing. 

Are you even going to be able to go back to normal sex after this? Your first orgasm tears through you violently. Your entire body trembles and you fight the urge to bite down as you scream.    

You can’t possibly ever feel this good again, it’s just too perfect. You assume it can’t get better yet somehow it does, a thing tendril wrapping around your leg before a smaller suction cup latches onto your clit, at that point you’re a goner. Your body evaporates into muffle moans and squeals. It barely even registers when another thick tendril slips between the swell of your ass, pushing into your other hole, taking you completely in its slippery hold. 

Now it’s perfect. 

You watch with wide eyes as a matching tentacle slides up Ezra's leg. 

You’re one in the same, if there was another here with you would they receive identical treatment? You have so many questions that you’ll know you’ll never get answers to, the idea makes you a little sad but almost as if it knows you’re mood has shifted it pushes up deeper into you and you unravel all over again, shrieking as you come, your slick mixing with whatever already coated the tentacles. 

You must be the spitting image of your favorite illustration in the magazines, the page that you can flip to purely based on muscle memory. A woman, vaguely resembling you, stretched out with a tentacle in every hole, you probably look as happy as she does as well, drool leaking from the raised corners of your mouth. 

You want another orgasm, one more would be nice. You aren’t sure how many times Ezra’s come at this point, you do suppose that if it kept at this all day long you might eventually snap, after a certain number of orgasms it would probably get painful. 

In all honesty you aren’t sure you care though, it’s kind to you, whatever it is, a part of you thinks it wouldn’t let you hurt. The moment the thought crosses your mind you come one last time, this one catches you a bit of guard, following the last in quick succession. Maybe you could live like this, here with whatever this creature is, watching Ezra would eventually get sad but you would adapt, this thing, whatever it is, is gentle, and it loves. 

You make a conscious choice to give yourself up to it completely.

You could live here and be happy with this creature. 

And in an instant you’re released, the tendrils slide out of you, setting you down. 

All you had to do was give in to it and it let you go. 

You gasp for air as it drops you to the ground, fumbling for your helmet, taking in several gulps of filtered air as you retch. You’re eternally grateful to the fact that your helmet didn’t crack during your fall. It takes several minutes to find your bearings but eventually you manage to resituate your suit and fix your clothes before you stand face to face with him. Despite watching what you did to escape it doesn’t seem to register with him as he continues to thrash and fight, he must be exhausted at this point. 

Stubborn bastard isn’t ever gonna relax.

Poor thing, you almost feel bad for him. 

Almost. 

You tilt your head as you stare at him, the tendrils still stroking his red straining cock while he gives you a pleading look. But you only have eyes for the case at his feet once you remember its presence. You reach down, taking it in your hands and clicking the locks to see if it’s all still there and much to your delight everything is accounted for, you swiftly shut it and look up at him once more. The tendril slides away from his mouth, it’s giving the two of you a chance to speak.

“Plea-“ His words are cut short as you watch a tentacle tweak his nipple, you reach out a gloved hand to run a thumb over his puffy chest.

“Pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have been on the Green in the first place.” You grin at him before crawling out of the ravine, the sounds of his strangled moans follow you until you close the doors of your ship behind you.

Maybe you’ll come back for him. At the very least you’ll come back for the experience of being held by such a creature as the tentacles beneath the earth.

It doesn’t matter all that much. 

Either way you won’t be back until you’re sure he’s learned his lesson.

a/n : ooooo hope everyones having a frightening friday the thirteenth and i also hope everyone enjoyed this lol

[sgtmickeyslaughter]

Hi! How about 47 and 54 for the trope mashup? :)

Hello!!

This was such a fantastic pairing for the prompts!! I hope you enjoy it :)

47 Emotional Support + 54 Mickey’s Mom Is Alive

It was a long ways between Chicago and Eastern Kentucky, and there was a hundred mile stretch of road as they waded through the rolling hills of Appalachia where the only station that would play without static was straight up, honkey tonk country music. 

Ian was loosing his mind at the sound of the fucking fiddle, but he didn’t dare turn it off because then he would be sitting in a quiet car with his husband while they travel to the hicks to visit his apparently very not dead, dead mother. 

Mickey took it upon himself to end the torture with an angry slap to the radios power button. “Jesus,” he muttered under his breath. 

“So, um” Ian said nervously, “you’re going to get off the highway in three exits.”

Shifting into the next right lane, Mickey sighed. The car went quiet again so Ian filled in the silence again, “we should be there in about a half hour, forty five minutes tops.”

Mickey nodded, but didn’t respond. So Ian spoke up again, clearing his throat and wincing as each word came out of his mouth “so are you, uh excited? You know, excited to see her.”

Three months ago, Ian got a phone call from Mandy Milkovich. They were stuck talking to their chattiest client and Ian was going to blow off the call from the unknown number, but he got a weird feeling about it. He had a million questions for her, but she just needed him to talk to Mickey about something.

“What, what is it Mands?” Ian asked urgently. “I can give you his number if you want-”

“No, Ian - seriously just listen. I don’t, I mean - well send me his number in case, I do want to talk to him” she stammered. “I need you to tell him something for me because I just, I can’t have the conversation with him because he’s, y’know a total fucking drama queen.”

“Mandy, what the hell are you talking about?” Ian asked lowly, stepping out of the building with a concerned glance from his husband. 

“I found our mom” she said, exhaling all at one. 

“You found her like - like, you found where she was buried?” Ian asked curiously.

“No, no I found where she is living, alive. As in our mom isn’t dead” Mandy said slowly.

“No but, your mom is dead” Ian responded.

“Yeah” Mandy agreed. “Except she’s not, Terry lied.”

“Why would he do that?” Ian asked incredulously.

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah, right. So your mom is alive and you want me to break the news to Mickey? Don’t you think that is the kind of information that should come from a sibling?”

“Well, I mean, you’re a lot closer to him. Husbands and unconditional love and all that.”

“You could argue that there’s unconditional love between siblings as well,” Ian reasoned.

“Mhm, yeah, not for us.”

“Okay, fine I get it. Um, can you just tell me a little bit about what happened? Mickey doesn’t talk about her.”

“Um, Terry knocked her up with Mickey when she was thirteen, they got married when she was sixteen. Mickey was her favorite and she was his favorite person in the world, one day when we were eleven Terry came home and told us that ding dong the bitch is dead and Mickey didn’t speak except to cry himself to sleep for about six months and then he never spoke about her again and would lash out at anyone who did.”

“Oh, good. I’m glad no one told me” Ian said sarcastically. “What the fuck, Mandy?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Ian” Mandy insisted. “I found her, I’m staying with her for a while and she really wants to see Mickey.”

“Okay, right. My brain is fucking leaking out of my fucking ass right now Mandy, I’m going to talk to him tonight and I will call you back sometime tomorrow and just..um, I will let you know how that goes.”

“Thank you so much, Ian. I know this is hard but I just can’t do the mom thing with him again, and you were dumb enough to marry him.”

“Yeah, I guess I was, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“I’m so happy to hear from you, Mandy.”

She hung up at that. And Ian was left to head back inside and face his husband. 

It was ugly, that night when he told Mickey. He was in denial for a while, thinking Ian was lying or playing a trick on him. He was pacing around like a caged animal, eyes wild and mouth running non-stop. Once he did come to accept it, he stopped talking, stoped moving around and his eyes traveled down that thousand yard path to no where. 

Ian tried to get him to share how he was feeling, but he was completely stone-like, where he’d settled on the floor, back against the couch and knees pulled up to his chest. So ultimately Ian just sat next to him and gently pulled Mickey close to him, until he settled his head on Ian’s shoulder and cried completely silently. 

“I don’t know how to help you” Ian whispered quietly, after a long while of sitting like that. “I don’t know how to make it better.”

Mickey didn’t react except to rub his cheek slightly against the soft wet cotton of Ian’s teeshirt. 

They didn’t mention it again for two days, and then another week went by before Ian hesitantly broached the subject again, only to get shot down over and over again. 

“It’s like living with the worlds angriest rubber band, he is going to fucking snap, Mandy. You need to talk to him, I am going to make sure he’s home alone tonight and you are going to fucking call him and answer all of is questions and help me with this shit.”

Mandy tried to talk Ian down, but reluctantly agreed to call Mickey that night. Which was how they wound up on a highway through Kentucky trying not to scoff at all the ultra-religious billboards. 

His mother lived in a small house with a smoking chimney, framed by the mist floating through orange gold trees on the surrounding mountains. Mandy was standing on the front porch when they pulled up, watching hesitantly. 

Mickey turned off the engine but made no move to get out of the car, so Ian turned to him quickly. “Mickey, listen. Whatever happens today, everything is going to be okay. I can’t promise that she’s okay and that your relationship with your mom is going to be remotely fine or normal. But everything will be okay in the end, right? I love you so much, you’re going to be okay.”

Mickey looked over at him, expression frenzied and helpless, so Ian took his hand and brought it up to press his mouth against it. “Mickey, pause. Take a couple deep breaths with me, and let’s go.”

So sorry to do this, but the prompt was way too good to keep so short so read the rest here if you're interested !

[sunshiline-writes]

A Rose Amidst Thorns #15: A New Set of Rules

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Synopsis: Miguel gets a set of new rules. And learns exactly what he is in this hierarchy

CW: Dehumanization, like HEAVY dehumanization plz be safe, cigarettes, whumpee used as an ashtray, graphic description of mouth burns, EMETO (its kinda nasty so just.. be careful again), forced alcohol consumption, conditioning, altered state of mind, whumper POV

Something had to change. Everything was out of control. Solomon had tried to take his wife. Henrietta thought that somehow, that was fine. Miguel kept fighting back. All of them kept fighting back. It was getting exhausting. It was going to get worse if Xavier didn’t put a stop to it now. 

Separating the three of them had been the first step. Solomon was sleeping away his illness in his bedroom. Henrietta no longer had keys to any of the rooms in the house. Even if she wanted to visit him, the threat of death Xavier had loomed over him, kept her at bay for now. Miguel, was back in the hayloft, chained down like the dog he was. 

Solomon and Henrietta were easy enough to deal with. But Miguel was proving to be more and more of a problem. He was getting restless. Starting to test the waters as he always did. Xavier preferred him half dead or dissociated to the point where he was a shell of a human. Three days ago, he’d thrown the food he’d been given at Abraham, who’d been on food duty that day.  

Today, Xavier would be delivering Miguel’s first meal since then. It had been two weeks since The Solomon incident. After he’d carried Miguel’s unconscious body into the hayloft and clamped the manacle around his ankle, Xavier had deemed it better to leave the kid alone. He needed time to heal. If he looked at him, Xavier was going to smash his head into the wall. 

He was calmer now. Calculating. He brought up the tray of food to the hayloft, balancing it against his hip with one hand, grabbing the ladder with the other. Xavier wasn’t surprised to see Miguel curled in on himself, asleep on the cot that had been provided. He brought the tray of food next to the cot, leaving it on the floor. 

This had been Miguel’s first room at the Reede Ranch. Thirteen years old and all fire and fury. He had proved himself, gaining a nice cog in the closet in the hallway. Inside where it was warm at night. Where he could join them for breakfast at the table like a human. He had earned that respect. But now, he was back in the hayloft, the metaphorical dog house. Too much trouble. Too many mistakes had been made. Now corrections had to be made. 

Gently, Xavier ran a hand through Miguel’s hair.

“Wake up kid. We gotta talk,” he said as soon as Miguel’s eyes focused enough that he was sure the kid was listening. 

A frown lined his features as he slowly pushed himself to a sitting position. Bare feet resting on the wood floor. Good hand gripping the edge of the cot, his other hand resting in his lap. It was still healing. Stupidly slowly, but Solomon had said that it would. Still though, it was annoying. It had been two months, and that hand was still proving to be useless. 

“Are you hungry?” Xavier asked as Miguel glanced at the food. 

The boy nodded, eyes wary. Good. 

“You can eat in a moment. But right now? We’re gonna set some new rules for you. Yeah?” Xavier didn’t wait for an answer before continuing, “I think you’ve forgotten your place here. The fact that you’re at the bottom of the hierarchy.” 

Miguel’s throat bobbed slightly. The bruising had faded to an ugly yellowish color, but it was still there. A testimony to when Xavier had lost a bit of control. Nearly killing the boy. 

“You’re the dog here. So here are the rules. You do what I tell you, when I tell you. This isn’t new, but I think you need a reminder. If I tell you to sit, you sit. If I say roll over? Fucking roll over.” Xavier took a deep breath, “I’m going to bringing your food everyday from now on. Unless I’m on business then it’ll be Jesse. When you see us coming up that ladder? You greet us on your knees.” Xavier paused, searching for a reaction. 

Miguel’s frown deepened, eyes widening slightly. He opened his mouth slightly, seemingly in an attempt to protest. But Xaviers glare must have been enough of a warning, as he snapped his mouth shut. The boy worked his jaw, gritting his teeth. 

Xavier smiled. Miguel at least knew better than to argue. 

“Why don’t you practice right now? On your knees mutt.” 

There was a moment, a precious moment of Miguel, staring up at him. Eyes wide. Cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. At this moment, he didn’t know if Miguel would surrender, or follow the order. Not until slowly, the kid lowered himself to his knees. Head hanging on his chest. Teeth grinding against each other so hard, Xavier could hear it clearly. 

Xavier reached down to grab Miguel’s chin, forcing him to look at him. 

“Look at me when I talk to you. You’re so pathetic. Look at you. Groveling at my feet,” Xavier can’t help himself when he laughs, thumb idly tracing Miguel’s jaw. “You look better like this. Okay, back to the rules. If you mention Solomon or Henrietta to me. I will beat their names out of your thoughts. They don’t exist anymore. Not unless I say so. You’re not going to see them for a long, long time. So better get used to it. If I see their names in your hands, I’ll break them again. Nod if you understand.” 

There were tears in Miguel’s eyes, making them shine in the dull light. Slowly, he nodded. Bottom lip quivering. Since when has Miguel been so pretty when he cried? Xavier watched as the tears overflowed and slowly started down Miguel’s cheeks. He leaned forward, licking them away with his tongue. 

“Don’t cry.. it’s fine. All you need is me anyway. I own you. You’re mine. You were never Solomons, or Henrietta’s. Or even Jesse’s. You’ve always been mine,” Xavier stated plainly. He let go of Miguel’s jaw. Watching him idly. “If you’re ever in the house again, you don’t sit on the furniture. You’re only allowed your cot in here. Otherwise, you stay on the floor where you belong.” 

Xavier sighed, pulling out a cigarette and a match from his shirt pocket. Then he lit it. Taking in a puff and relishing in the wave of relief that coursed through him. He leaned down and blew out the smoke in Miguel’s face. His nose scrunched and he coughed. Xavier laughed. Taking a seat on Miguel’s cot with a creak. 

“Come here,” he called to him, waving him over to the spot in between his legs. There was a moment of hesitation, Miguel’s expression twisting into one of apprehension. “I said come here Miguel.” 

Slowly, Miguel shuffled on his knees in between Xavier’s legs. “Whenever Jesse comes in? You do what he says. If you fight, or hurt him in anyway, I’ll take your tongue. Not like you need it anyway,” he said as he took another drag. Blowing it again in Miguel’s face. Again, Miguel nodded, adams apple bobbing up and down. Xavier was half hard in his pants. But.. he wasn’t here for that. Not today. 

“Open your mouth Miguel.” 

Another moment of hesitation. The boy swallowed thickly, before slowly opening his mouth. “Close your eyes and stick your tongue out, mutt.” 

A whimper came from the back of the boy's throat that sent a heat to Xavier's core. Still, Miguel complied, eyes closing and tongue sticking out. His breathing was hard. Miguel was panting like a dog too. 

Xavier took one more drag from his cigarette, then promptly put the burning end out on Miguel’s tongue. One hand grabbed Miguel by the throat, the other on his shoulder to hold him still. His eyes shot open and he screamed. Closing his mouth shut and accidentally taking the cigarette into his mouth. Xavier slammed a hand over his mouth and nose. Growling. 

“I didn’t say you could open your eyes, or close your mouth.. so now you have to swallow it.” 

Miguel shook his head, trying to free himself of Xavier's hand. Falling backward, Xavier followed him, straddling him and only pushing the hand harder on his face. 

“Swallow it or suffocate your choice kid.” 

The boy whined, tears starting to flow freely down his face again. Xavier wrapped a hand around his throat, gently squeezing. Finally he saw the boy swallow, felt it slide down his throat. Then he let the boy go. Stepping off him and watching Miguel roll on his side and cough harshly. Miguel started to retch, good hand holding onto his stomach. Xavier watched with disinterest until the boy finally stilled for a moment, pressing his forehead into the hay covered floor. He retched another time, and this time bile, ash, and the cigarette was in a puddle on the floor.  

His hand was rubbing circles on his chest as he sat himself up on his knees. Xavier didn’t care about that though. He moved to the front of Miguel, crouching just in front of the vomit on the floor. 

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” 

Every part of Miguel was trembling, his eyes glassy. Xavier reached out to him, gripping at his hair, before slamming his face downwards. He held his face down in the vomit. That was what people did to bad dogs right? Shove them in their own sick? Miguel was fully sobbing now, but he wasn’t struggling, instead he just laid there. There was a feeling of satisfaction at that. He let Miguel’s hair go. Watching as Miguel slowly let himself sit up again.  “I’ll bring you a bucket and a towel to clean yourself up.” 

With trembling hands, he signed a simple ‘thank you’ to Xavier. 

“When I come back, your food better be gone. And you’ll be on your knees waiting for me right?” 

A sniffle and a nod is what he got in response. It was good enough. Xavier stood up and left. He took a little longer to get the supplies he needed. It would give Miguel a chance to collect himself, to breathe. Sometimes with Miguel, leaving him alone was just as useful as spending every moment with him. The kid was someone who tended to get trapped in his own thoughts. Spiraling lower and lower if left alone in the right environment. Xavier’s sister was similar in that way. When they were younger, she’d follow him around because her thoughts were always too loud. 

When he came back, Miguel was already on his knees, chin against his chest. His plate of simple sliced apples and goat cheese was gone. He didn’t think that anything heavier would sit well in Miguel's stomach. His eyes glanced up from the ground and met Xaviers. Xavier smiled, dropping the bucket with water next to them. Miguel jumped a little when it landed.

Slowly, he reached out to grab the towel and squeeze the excess as best he could with one hand. Miguel started with his face and neck, being careful over sore spots, still trying to get everything off his skin. He didn’t dare look at Xavier as he did so. The only noise for a few minutes was the sound of the rag being dipped into the bucket, squeezed and rubbed against Miguel's skin. He didn’t stop until Xavier waved him over, between his legs again. “Open your mouth for me,” he ordered. 

This time, Miguel did not hesitate as he opened his mouth. Xavier could see it there, the blister on his tongue. White and bubbled. His whole tongue was red and irritated as well. Xavier grabbed Miguel’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting his head up slightly to look more clearly. 

“Does it hurt?” Xavier asked, slowly, enunciating clearly for the boy to see. 

The boy nodded, swallowing thickly. His breath was shaky, hot on Xavier’s hand. His free hand went to his belt, where his flask was. Lately, he’d been carrying it around more often. He twisted it open with his teeth. First, he held it over his mouth, about to tip it in. “If you spit it out, or if any drops. You’re licking it off the floor.” 

Then he poured it inside Miguel’s open and waiting mouth. If Miguel could scream, Xavier was sure he would have. But he was forced to let the alcohol coat his mouth. Swallowing with a choked gasp. Everytime Miguel swallowed and tried to take a breath, Xavier poured more down his throat. Making sure it coated his tongue. Miguel’s face was flushed red and his eyes glazed by the time Xavier poured the last bit down his throat. Finally letting go of Miguel’s face. “Repeat the rules back to me.. All the new ones. I want you to remember.” 

Miguel squinted up at Xavier’s lips, whimpering slightly. Xavier waited. Watching him carefully. The boy swayed slightly from his position on the floor. He shook his head and groaned lightly, resting his head on Xavier’s knee.  

“No no..” Xavier said, cupping Miguel's face and once again making the boy look at him. “I need you to tell me. It’s best you do it now. Once that whiskey really kicks in, I doubt you’ll remember your own name. You’re a lightweight,” he finished with a chuckle. 

Miguel blinked a few times, Xavier could see him thinking hard through the fog of the alcohol. He could be patient, he could wait for him to answer. This was just a test. Finally, after a moment and a short grunt, Miguel lifted his hand to finger spell a rule. 

“It’s okay if it’s not the whole rule, you can just sign the basics,” he assured softly. 

Miguel nodded and shut his eyes tightly, probably hit by a wave of dizziness. But the boy was starting to finger spell the basic rules. 

Always listen, no hurting Jesse, knees when you come in.

“You’re forgetting some Miguel,” Xavier whispered softly. Miguel swallowed thickly again, resting his head in the palm of his hand. He shook his head, whimpering. “You can do it sweetheart.” 

No Solomon. No Hen. No furniture.

Xavier grinned, all teeth and fondness. It seeped through everything. Miguel did know how to listen apparently. Despite the obvious issue with his hearing, he was a good listener. His eyes were fluttering shut, full body weight on his hand now. The only thing holding up Miguel's head was Xavier at this point. “I’m gonna ask you to do one more thing, just one more question for me sweetheart, can you do that?” Miguel groaned, a choked sound coming from him. “I know you’re tired. Just one more thing.” 

His eyes drooped but he lifted his head higher to look at him. “Good boy. What are you?” 

Miguel made a face of confusion, brain moving slowly, face contorting with realization as he shook his head. The immediate regret of that action, making him groan and his eyes roll backwards for a moment. Xavier removed his hand from holding up Miguel, and the kid slumped against his knee, slowly sliding down his leg. He made the sign for ‘please’ clumsily. Xavier stared down in contempt, kicking Miguel onto his back. He resting his spur on his shoulder, pressing it into the skin there.  

“What are you Miguel?” 

A sob emitted from the squirming thing beneath his boot. Coming fully from his chest as he lifted his good hand to grab at Xavier’s boot. He sighed, pressing the spur harder into Miguel's shoulder, a small pinprick of blood started to surround the spur. Miguel groaned and turned his face away from Xavier. But finally, he answered, signing, “Dog”. 

Xavier laughed, standing up from his seat and straddling Miguel. Grabbing his face, and leaning forward, they were so close he could smell the whiskey he poured on the boys breath. 

“Again.” 

Dog. 

“Again.”  

Dog. 

“One more time sweetheart.” 

Miguel was fully sobbing now, tears streaking down his face. Snot running down his lips. Truly pathetic. Just how Xavier liked him. He gently leaned forward again, pressing a soft kiss to Miguel’s forehead. 

Dog. I am a dog.  

“Good boy Miguel. Good boy.” 

Now they could start again. Fresh. New rules, new dog. It was a whole new start. 

Everything was going to be different now. In a good way. In the best way they could be. Because now, all each of them had was him. That was all they were ever going to need from now on.

___ Taglist:

@demondamage @burntcoffeewhump @angst-after-dark @just-a-silly-little-whumper @tictac-murder-spaghetti @crash-bump-bring-the-whump @whumpifi

@flowersarefreetherapy @badgerwhump @whumpbees @whumplr-reader

ask if you'd like to be added or removed!!

[succubusonthedoorstep]

❥ A Stranger No Longer.

princess!blackfem reader x sorcerer!gojo

Word Count... 4.8k

Warnings… Pussy worship, reader has nipple piercings, cheating, a dead marriage, an implied orgy, outdoor sex, reader is a sex symbol, explicit language and smut, mentioned blood pact, squirting, biting, fingering, oral sex (f!recieving) cum eating, mention of sex swings, reader teasing, breeding.

Author’s Notes… This fic will have a part two! I had a lot of fun writing this, period pieces keep me in a chokehold. Please reblog, like, and follow! I have a few more works in progress my doves <3

The bets were placed on your wedding.

It wasn’t every day an Empress’ daughter got married. Your marriage had been anticipated since you were eighteen when your Mother decided you were to be married by your twenty-first year.

You went on to endure suitor’s offers and flirtations for two years. The glances at your chest, wandering hands, and cheesy lines men told you soon became exhausting—echoes in your ears. Old, decrepit men approached you with chapped lips and wrinkled fingers.

One of them even managed to marry you a year ago.

“Artists should follow you, my Princess,” An elderly man said, offering his hand. You politely placed your gloved hand in his and watched as he kissed the small diamond ring on your left pinky, nothing compared to the rock on the finger next to it.  “You are always the picture of perfection.”

“Thank you, Sir. It’s a pleasure to see you at these soirées.” A fake, bright smile passed on your face, for you knew where this conversation was going. 

“Likewise!” He responded, his hand still holding yours as he pulled away from kissing your ring.

“The thought of you keeps my bed warm, my precious. I have to come back and visit to see you sometimes.”

Your stomach turned. The yellow grin on his lips made you rather want to chew glass than be here for another minute.

‘Mother needs to stop inviting these fucking sickos to these parties,” you grunted to yourself, tearing your hand away from the old man and gracefully adjusting your glove back into place.

“I’m not interested.” You immediately shut down, the man persisting.

“It still works, I promise. I’ll keep your womb full-“

You chose to ignore him, already beginning to walk down the hallway of the palace and back to the party.

With everyone in high society at this soirée, you couldn’t afford to have your mother upset with you over a man who couldn’t keep it in his pants. After years of dealing with it, you learned it was best to keep it direct and short.

You found yourself back at the royal table, high above the dance floor in its own section of the dining room. It seemed the maids had moved tables to make room for drunk guests (who ignored the grand ballroom a few doors down) to dance and mingle. 

High above the sea of bodies, you watched the party slowly evolve from a sway of bodies to something of a more debaucherous nature. 

This is what your mother was known for.

The late night hours of the Empress’ soirées were a legend across your kingdom. Tales of the parties included rooms full of sex swings with a reversible floor, (in case things get messy) a thirteen-person orgy where blood pacts were taken, and a grand “breeding event” that was organized to encourage the next line of royal babies. It worked.

Tonight had no specific theme, but the warmth in the summer air encouraged the drunk partygoers to do what they expected of the party. 

As you leaned over the railing, your eye caught a glimpse of a head of white hair cutting through the dense crowd, ignoring the seductive hands grabbing at his robes. Your eyes lingered on them for a moment- noticing something off. 

“He has a hood on his robe!” You whispered to yourself, realizing his rank and status. Leaning a little closer to the railing to see who he might be, you squint your eyes and try to remember all the members of your mother’s Circle of High Sorcerers. 

He turned around at the edge of the crowd and looked directly at your table. Piercing, icy blue eyes caught yours and sent a chill down your spine. The look on his face was electrifying- you recognized the lust in his eyes with ease, but there was something else there. Goosebumps bite at your brown skin, despite the humidity of the night. 

I heard you, my Queen.

His voice echoed in your head, a reassuring tone that had your knuckles lightening as you gripped the railing. A knowing smirk passed his lips, then he turned to leave.

Air filled your lungs for the first time in what felt like days. The white-haired mage captivated your attention, and before you knew it, you were down the stairs and towards the hall he turned into.

You knew the palace like the back of your hand. You’d spent your childhood hiding in nooks and crannies, running through maids and knights and nannies. The magician wouldn’t make it far.

The stylist for today did you justice as well. They dressed you in a puff-sleeved floor-length silk dress that complemented your skin and braided your hair into a secure updo. When you sprinted through the hallways and into the garden, you were still very put together. 

The garden you found yourself in was a smaller one on the east side of the palace. The glass ceiling allowed in the moonlight for visibility, illuminating tall bamboo shoots and oversized leaves. The room smelled of roses and books, overwhelming the senses. 

Or was that from the tall man standing next to a bookshelf in the center of the room?

“Princess (Y/N)?” He called out to you. The same chill floated down your back and into your core. His voice was exactly like the one from before- bright, clear, and charming. When you turned around, he was already on one knee and taking your hand into his.

“Gods, it’s my pleasure,” he gushed, pecking each of your fingertips. “To meet the most important woman in our kingdom.” His head lifted to gaze into your eyes, and you felt your face get warm.

“Don’t let my mother hear you say that,” You chuckled, suddenly nervous in his presence. After running around the palace and approaching him, you’d think you would have something to say- but instead, you uttered,

“How did you hear me? I was across the room.”

The mage held your now bare hand in his, the glove and wedding ring on your finger now disappeared. He ran his lips across your knuckles, his eyes slowly blinking as if he were under the influence. You opened your mouth just as he answered.

“I hear everything.” He blankly stated, standing up. Gods, how tall was he? You hadn’t noticed the pristine white bandages around his neck until he pulled them up and over his eyes, much to your dismay. 

Smoothing your dress down with your bare hand, you asked, “What’s your name?”

“Satoru Gojo.”

“Well, Satoru Gojo, May I have my glove and ring back?”

It was as if it disappeared into thin air. There were no pockets in his robe unless they were all on the inside. 

He pondered your request for a moment. He hummed, tapped a booted foot, and looked up at the sky despite his eyes being covered. 

“Will you come to the observatory with me? Not the one at the Academy. I’m sure there’s one here-“ It was his turn to be nervous. Slender fingers held his robe and swayed it softly, as if he were getting hot. He swung it open far enough for you to catch a peek at the jeweled vulture pendant on his chest and the bulge in his pants. 

You gulped, excitement pooling in your stomach.

“Y-Yes, of course! I’d never deny such an important guest a request.” You’d decided to take the easiest route- flattering and seducing him into getting the information you wanted. Or more.

Maybe he’ll do for the night…

“Ah! Thank you!” Surprise genuinely crossed his face. “I’d get us there faster but I’ve never been,” he smiled at you as you turned away to lead him to the Observatory. The hall you'd turned into displayed hand-painted vines and colorful flowers on the walls, each center of the flowers secured with a small jewel.

White lights that flickered idly on the high ceiling illuminated them until they dazzled. 

“It’s fine,” you spoke, not bothering to look at him. “The walk there is nice and you’re enjoying the view.” Distant moaning filled the hall and Gojo laughed quietly beside you.

“You’re the kingdom’s most prominent sex symbol,” he stated, amused. “And you do it as a fully clothed wife.”

Have we met before?

You continued strolling through the halls, your heels clicking against the marble. Gojo’s presence next to you sparked something you rarely felt- self-conscious. It was as if his gaze was burning into your back, hips, and ass. The pleasured grunts and pleading reverberating through the walls didn’t help the tension between your legs either.

“I’ll stop staring so much?”

“But I mean, are you really staring? Your eyes are covered.”

He didn’t answer. You assumed it worked the same way his long-distance hearing did, which didn’t help your understanding. You only approached the spiral staircase that led upwards into the observatory, Gojo not far behind. The silence was stiff and awkward until you spoke. 

“Sorry for the long staircase,” you said, trying to start a conversation. “You’ll find the building is full of them.”

“Will I?”

“I hope so.” 

You hadn’t stopped stepping up the staircase through your conversation, as Gojo was gaining on you. The small, unfamiliar feeling shot through you again, knowing he was definitely watching your ass in motion. 

 “What’s that mean?” He asked innocently. 

“Just that I'm a dedicated hostess,” You peeked back at him, an eager smile across your cheeks. He returned the smile brightly, long purple robes consuming his figure from your angle. His hands peeked out to hold onto the handrails and you got a better look at the jewels that decorated his fingers. Glowering gems around gold on his thumbs and middle fingers.

I wonder if Mother has those.

“Well,” he started as you reached the top of the staircase. “You look radiant tonight, Hostess.” 

The Observation Tower’s glass dome was open to allow the summer night air in. The tower was lit by small stars on crystal strings. Benches sat around a large water fountain near the massive, expensive microscope. 

“Thanks. I like your jewelry,” you offered, stopping next to him and breathing in the clear air at the top of the tower. It was incredibly refreshing after being stuck in the stuffiness of the party. Gojo joined you in your deep breaths.

It felt silly. The hopeful future Queen and a High Sorcerer, doing breathing exercises. It was midway through a long inhale that you realized it felt comfortable like you could do anything you needed to relax with Gojo and he wouldn’t judge you. 

“Ready?” He asked. You opened your eyes just as he was offering his arm to you, which you took with warm cheeks. 

You walked together to the bench farthest away, one that was turned towards the iron railing for those who wanted to gaze at the wide view high above the kingdom. Lights flickered below, the only source of life you could see.

Reminiscing on your childhood, the view always left you awestruck. You’d been up here countless times, but the bashfulness you felt now was something new.

“So…” You started, tapping your gloved hand on the bench. “Purple robes?”

“Yeah! I’m actually the head of the curses faction at the Academy.”

You nodded in interest. “I heard the work was going well after that tomb was discovered.”

He sighed in relief at the thought. “Things are fine and the new class of sorcerers is promising…”

He leaned against the wall behind you, head slightly tilted back with long legs slightly too open.

Lewd thoughts distracted you from the conversation, but Gojo’s voice pulled you back.

“I’m actually the strongest.” He noted humbly.

You rolled your eyes. “The strongest, huh?” You taunted, pushing the braids that fell over your shoulder back behind you. Gojo watched, instantly transfixed by your figure turning toward him. His cock twitched in his pants at the sight of your breasts moving in your dress.

“(Y/N)-“

“I’m cold, Gojo. Could I wear your robe?”

His cheeks turned a deep pink at your suggestion, hands tightening around the iron bench. He was previously thankful for the robe to help hide his erection, but it seemed you were already on to him.

“Of course, Princess. Whatever you want.” He ran a hand over the neck of the robe, where a gold clasp lay.

He stood and pulled the robe from his back, the black uniform under it now exposed to the night air.

He draped the warm, surprisingly weighty robe over your shoulders. You glanced at the hardness in his pants as he stood in front of you and quickly tried to look away, but it was too late.

“Don’t look away. Take a good look at what you do to me.” His voice was hard, a slim hand reaching to smooth the front of his pants down and give you a better look at his length. Your eyes followed his pants as he sat back down next to you, the coverings on his eyes coming loose.

“Satoru Gojo… Why are you at the Queen’s party tonight?”

He smiled, crystal blue eyes peeking between the bandages.

“To meet the most intriguing woman in the world.”

You laughed, a foot slipping out of your heel to push yourself up and climb over Gojo’s lap. Straddling him, you opened the robe and covered the two of you in it. 

“And now that you’ve met her, what are you gonna do to keep her attention?” 

He kissed your gloved knuckles, the palm of your hand, then your fingertips, similar to what he did earlier. Instead this time, he nipped and bit until he could pull the final glove from your hand. He took it from his mouth and dropped it on the bench.

“If Her Majesty will allow it, I’d like her company for the night. You’ve captivated my soul and thrown my mind into disarray without effort. My magic can’t even perform the same way- not since I felt you notice me in the crowd. That’s why I can’t get your glove back- it’s not in a secret pocket or anything…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you giggled. It was clear that Gojo’s magic rarely failed, but he still found himself laughing along with you.

“I’ll just buy one? Or maybe let you duplicate the one I have another time?”

His hands were on your waist, thumbs stroking your hips soothingly. “If I duplicate it you’ll have two gloves for the same hand.”

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’d figure it out, Finding a princess’s glove should be light work for a man of your abilities.” 

He detached a hand from your waist to pull the bandages off and onto the bench. “Before you, maybe.” His hand found itself on your ass this time. “Now it’s like my mind is always somewhere else.” The hand helped push your ass forward and onto his cock, your warm heat grinding against his dick print and causing both of you to moan.

You initiated a greedy kiss that had your lips sliding against each other and tongues fighting for dominance. Soft silk ran across your skin as he held you delicately in his arms. Between kisses, he huffed out, “Gonna wanna take you out here,” Your teeth ran across his bottom lip to shut him up, pulling on it softly and letting it go. The slight groans that he gave only increased your desire to take him now. 

He watched as you reached an arm around to unzip your dress, insisting, “My Princess- Someone might come by-“

“There’s an orgy happening downstairs, no one is coming stargazing. Be quiet, Sorcerer.” 

He watched as a strap fell from your shoulder, the other one falling suit. Eyes glued on your chest, Gojo played with his buttoned uniform until it exposed his built chest and abs. Your eyes greedily feasted on his body from the pink of his nipples to the trail of pale white hair leading down his pants.

“I shouldn’t have to remind you of the consequences of this getting out,” you warned, teasing. The top of your dress fell from your shoulders onwards, exposing your lace and satin bra. “My husband would have your head.”

“He can have it as long as I can have some of yours.”

You rolled your eyes at the joke, only giving him a sly smile. “No challenge too big for the strongest?”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and laid you down on the bench, his robes providing a spot for you to comfortably lie. Your legs playfully wrapped around his waist and tried to pull him closer.

“Should I call you Satoru or Gojo?” You mischievously questioned. “Or something else?”

“Sorcerer seems to be working for you,” he leaned in, eyelids drooping to gaze at the smeared gloss on your lips.

Breaths mixed as you wordlessly dared Satoru Gojo to fuck the Princess of his kingdom and effectively cuckold one of the most powerful lords in your country.

You smirked. “Well, Sorcerer-“

Hungry lips crashed against yours and immediately made an effort to make you forget about everything- your forceful mother, your dead marriage, the title of Queen awaiting you. 

Satoru’s kisses had an effect on you- one that you hadn’t felt since before you married. It was addictive and you missed it, but your sorcerer would provide what your husband failed to.

What he stole from you, Satoru could return.

Between kisses, your hand trailed to the center of your bra to unlock it with a slide of your fingers. The fabric was pulled away to reveal your breasts, your pierced nipples making the man’s eyes widen. 

His brain malfunctioned for a moment before he uttered a whiny “Fucking unbelievable-“ and dove his face into your tits to immediately take a nipple into his mouth. Teeth bit at your nipple and lips kissed and sucked on the skin. A warm breeze licked the saliva on your sensitive brown skin, raising goosebumps on your arms. One of Satoru’s hands cupped the breast his mouth wasn’t already on and the other tugged at his pants.

“Take my panties off too,” you purred as your fingers found his soft white locks. He responded by releasing your breast and pushing himself down the bench and between your legs. “Gods, you’re so good for me.”

His hand moved from his pants and to your hips. “Showing my loyalty to the future Queen,” he assured between pulling your panties off, “brings me joy like nothing else.”

Legs spread wider to give Satoru a better look at your cunt. You watched his eyes light up and slowly soften as you run your fingers through your folds.

“I think I wanna cum twice with you here, then we’ll finish downstairs in my bedroom,” Head tilted and wide-eyed, your gaze remained on Satoru. He nodded mindlessly, clearly half-listening as he leaned down to kiss your pussy.

You pulled your fingers away and into your mouth, sucking them loud enough for your lover to hear. His warm, thick tongue gave your cunt a slow, generous lick, making you smile around your fingers.

“Already wanna come back for more,” he murmured against your core, his voice giving a deep vibration that made you audibly shudder. “How am I supposed to let you go back to him now?”

Two of Satoru’s fingers pushed into your pussy before you could answer. His tongue drew circles around your sensitive clit and gave it the occasional appreciative lick when he felt it twitch. 

“Hold your knees,” he grunted out, mouth now sucking your bud. You spread your legs wider and did as he told, giving him the space he needed to sloppily fuck your cunt with his fingers.

You watched Satoru play with your pussy with an open mouth, the wetness on his fingers giving his rings a different kind of shine. 

“So, so perfect, Princess,” he cooed to your cunt, his fingers curling to find the spot that makes your eyes roll back.

“Satoru-“

“Not sorcerer?” His strong voice nearly demanded, pushing his fingers deeper and laughing at your needy whines. “Has any of your other lovers told you that this is the tightest cunt they’ve ever felt?”

Incoherent murmurs fell from your lips, brain too cloudy to give him an actual response. Other lovers were far from your thoughts right now. 

“Letting me finger fuck you brainless on a bench outside?” He questioned in a fake surprise voice, feeling you get shamefully wet. Your eyes screwed shut just to open again at the waves of pleasure.

“Is that what Princesses do in their spare time? Let strangers taste their cunt?” He continued, fingertips finding what they were looking for.

Your pussy clenched around his fingers as they pressed on the fleshy part of your walls. The feeling of needing to pee approached you rapidly and you felt Gojo’s mouth humming against you amusedly, as if he knew what you were about to do.

“Fuck- fucking Satoru,” you barely made out, legs shaking around your grip. His lips smirked for a moment against your cunt. Then they opened to allow him to suck and slurp your cunt until your legs slipped and your cunt spasmed one final time. 

Gojo wore your thighs as earmuffs as your pussy squirted all over his mouth and chin; some of it soaking into the fabric of his black boxer briefs. He watched lovingly as you lost and caught your breath mid-orgasm, hair now a mess with a slightly sweaty face. Your orgasm blurred your vision and had you choking out broken groans and pleas to your sorcerer like just fuck me like you mean it! or Can’t wait for when your magic is back…

Has it always been such a hazy summer night? 

Your eyes slowly opened to the picture of perfection- Gojo fucking his cock with the hand coated in your juices. Soft clicking from the wetness on his fingers and desperate sighs replaced your moans.

 “Haah, Satoru,” you breathed out, tongue running across your bottom lip. His hand generously stroked the head of his dick.

“You did so well,” he sighed in pleasure as he pulled your legs over his shoulders and kissed the gold anklets adorning your skin. His hands then traveled to your hips, gave them a tender pinch, and pulled flush to his hips in one pull.

You laughed playfully at his strength, wondering if it were just a spell. It wasn’t.

He rested his cock between your legs and on your stomach, balls warmly sitting against your pussy lips. Heavy and warm on your skin, it was 7 and a half inches of sin with a girth that made you question how it would fit.

You wrapped a delicate hand around it and caressed it, relishing in the sweet moan Gojo released from his throat at the contact. 

“You said your room after this?”

“Mhm.”

A clear bead of precum pearled at the tip and before you could swipe it onto your thumb and into your mouth, Gojo guided his dick out of your hand.

“Need you now, angel. That pussy’s waitin’ for me,” he yearned before giving his cock a few indulgent runs through your folds and making you drool.

“My mouth is too,” you playfully complained. A cheeky smirk passed his lips before he pushed the full length of his cock into your cunt. Your hips met in a harsh way that had your hips digging into his.

“S-Sorcerer!” You yelped, fists balling and nails digging into your fists. The stretch was deliciously painful as Satoru slowly started to fuck into you.

“Knew you’d have some good pussy…” He mumbled to himself, eyes glued on your cunt gushing on him. Long white hair fell into his eyes and you clenched around him at the sight.

“Gods, you’re fucking filthy,” You barely purred out between thrusts. His arm came down between your head, the other on the back of the bench. “Fucking the next head of state? Without protection?” Your nails found his thighs and they drew red lines into the pale skin. He leaned down to whine softly in your ear, a piece of vulnerability to contrast with the way he was ruining you.

Satoru’s dick poked and prodded at the sensitive spot in your cunt. Every thrust brought a satisfying stretch and burned the memory of the night into your mind.

“Wanna get me pregnant, Satoru?” you asked, watching his hips falter for a moment.

“Fuck, if you’ll have me,” he rushed out, cheeks turning pink. “We can do this without him knowing, as long as you want me to.”

He huffed out tired breaths that made you lock your legs around his waist. 

You nodded at his words, knuckles grazing along his jawline to capture his chin in your grip and guide his lips to yours. Nimble fingers reached down to draw circles on your clit just as Satoru’s tongue slipped past your lips. 

We’ll be doing it forever then.

Satoru rolled his hips into yours and pushed himself deeper into your cunt, a deep groan coming from his throat as your cunt hugged him greedily.

Between kisses, he slurred out, “Princess, I’m gonna cum…”

Your legs involuntarily shook around his waist as your tongues danced. The fingers strumming your clit sped up, a silent beg to cum with him. His lips released yours to bury his face in your neck, sucking purple spots into the skin. 

Stars filled your eyes, the stimulation overwhelming your senses as you came around Gojo. 

“Satoru,” you whined out, cunt spasming and back arched. His arms wrapped around your waist to give you a couple more rough thrusts. His voice cracked as he filled you with hot ropes of cum and you swear you could’ve squirted again at the sounds of his moans.

The brain fog that came afterward was made sweeter by the soft, comforting rubs Satoru gave the globes of your ass. His warm hands traveled to the stretch marks on your hips and gave them a loving pinch.

“Gonna pull out now, ‘kay?” He warned, knowing you’d protest. 

“But-“

 “We’re going downstairs, remember?” He reminded you, pulling out in one smooth motion. You felt cum drip from your hole for a moment only for Gojo’s long fingers to scoop it up and into his mouth.

“Come on, babe,” he continued. “I wanna get a bath in.”

It wasn’t hard to sneak Gojo into your room.

Many of the doors in the hallway were still locked with occupants on the inside, and the open rooms were already immaculately clean. 

You held hands. It felt immensely intimate for a man you just met, but you figured you’d already squirted on his face, and there weren’t more things more intimate than that. 

Gojo peeked over at you a few times, smiling a little when you caught his eye the first few times.

“How’re you feeling?” He asked as you pulled him softly into a smaller corridor. You pushed the door open with your heeled foot, pulled the sorcerer in, and shut the door, locking it.

“I’m great,” you smiled, turning around to undress in front of him. He watched silently, appreciating the view.

“I’ll tell the maids I'm hungover so we can sleep in tomorrow morning. I’m sure you can teleport out of here?”

“Sure.”

You picked up your clothes and threw them into a wicker bin in the bathroom.

“My husband will be here in the evening. I live two hours away at his estate, but I visit every other week to spend the weekend with my mother.” 

He had followed you into the bathroom and stripped naked, leaving his clothes in your hamper and hanging his robe on a jeweled hook near the shower.

“That’s fine,” he responded coolly. He closed the toilet seat to allow you to sit while he filled the tub with warm water. “I’ll make time for you when you’re here.”

His answer was so simple. It lessened butterflies in your stomach, simplifying the situation like that. Cheating wasn’t something you ever considered, but with Satoru, it didn’t feel wrong. Your marriage left you void in ways you couldn’t have predicted and Satoru knew that. It was complicated and political and exhausting but Satoru was none of that. It was refreshing.

He flicked his wet fingers at your face and turned the water off. “C’mon, I’ll let you sit between my legs,” He offered, climbing into the large square thumb and offering his hand to you.

Graciously taking it, you tiptoed into the bath and sat with Gojo. He kissed your cheek and slipped one of his gold rings onto your ring finger under the water.

“It might slip off, but I'll just give you another one…” He promised. “No matter how many rings slip off, I'll put another one on my girl.” 

© succubusonthedoorstep2023. all rights reserved. please dont copy, repost, steal, or translate my work.

[hewantshisbrideback]

Modern AU Jonrya + Divorced!RhaeLya Snippet

Test-running this the same way I did NHAT's first chapter! Keep in mind, this is not specifically RhaeLya or anti-RhaeLya. That said, Rhaegar, by virtue of being raised as more of a 'boy prince' than actual prince, has a characterization you may not agree with! But I don't care, it's my fic lol. Not a lot happens in this first snippet, it's more to establish the home-life Jon is coming from, the dynamic between Rhaegar and Lyanna, and because I find writing from this perspective funny. There is not a lot of Jonrya and only the set up for conflict. Enjoy! Please, tell me what you think.

It’s an age-old story. A real crowd favorite. Boy meets girl. Girl meets boy. Boy sings a sad song. Girl cries. Boy gives her roses. Girl looks pretty with flowers in her hair. A classic love story, one for the books.

Things may have progressed a little quickly after. But, still, nothing truly out of the ordinary. Girl got pregnant. Boy proposed. Well… Boy had to get a divorce first. But it was a quick divorce.

Sure, maybe after the shotgun wedding, Boy and Girl had to hide out in the desert for a while, disappeared from the public without telling anyone where they went, resulting in a media-fuelled frenzy, a nation-wide search party involving everyone from paparazzi to armed police to private investigators…

Maybe her family had publicly accused him of kidnapping before the dust had settled. Acquitted of all charges, both in the legal court and that of public opinion.

Still, when Rhaegar looks back at how he and Lyanna first met, first fell in love, it really did feel that simple, that… uncomplicated, at the time. The politics, their respective family drama, the music scene and the industry bullshit, the age gap that was only a little less scandalous at the time…

He hadn’t cared about that. Neither had magazines, or newspapers. If anything, they’d eaten it all up. It only made them more sympathetic. For the most part. According to all the important publications, anyway.

Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen had been... the love story to end all love stories. Had been, as in, weren’t anymore, because, as anyone could tell you, they hadn’t been married for, say, like… a decade now? Somewhere between a decade, and thirteen years, four months, and twenty-one days.

And yet, it still smarts to think about it. Better not to, if he can help it.

Unfortunately, there’s nothing in the great, empty expanse of fucking woods he’s staring down to distract him. Why does Lyanna live out here again? Shouldn’t someone running a non-profit live somewhere with actual people around, in need of help?

Frankly, he never understood why they divorced in the first place. But I respected her wishes. Because I loved her.

Obviously. He wouldn’t be leaning against his car, waiting for his son to finally emerge from his aloof (second) ex-wife’s cabin in the woods if that wasn’t the case, all so he could spend a weekend enjoying the kid’s brooding company, pointedly not asking questions about how his mother was and what she was doing in her spare time when she wasn’t too busy saving the world and ignoring his calls.

Rhaegar taps his foot. Crosses his arms. Checks his hair in the passenger window. Uncrosses his arms. Checks his phone, again. Nothing. He texted Jon about his arrival three minutes ago.

Maybe, sometimes their conversation verged into discussion-of-Mom territory. But there was only so much for him and Jon to talk about. The kid was almost sixteen, permanently unimpressed with him, and he made no secret of the resentment he felt for him.

Rhaegar wanted to connect, he did, but he also had to acknowledge certain limitations to his position. The one thing they both shared was Lyanna. It made sense to fall back to common ground in lieu of any other options.

And he’s curious. Sue him. The woman is a bank vault when it comes to her personal life. Always was. Just ask the press. They'd tell you.

Rhaegar checks his phone. Four minutes. He thinks he can get away with ringing the doorbell. There’s literally ice on the ground. Even his openly embittered son doesn’t actually want him to freeze to death.

Well, he assumes. But the void of interest in Jon’s gaze as he opens the door and claps eyes on him might make him reconsider.

“Hey, champ.” Rhaegar forces out, and pretends like he isn’t internally grimacing at his own words. “Uh, I texted, but…”

Jon nods, already turning around, walking away and leaving the screen door to drift shut on his father. “I know.”

Rhaegar wedges a foot in before the heavy screen can shut him out completely, then shifts awkwardly in the doorway, propping it open. “You ready to head out?”

“Almost.”

He takes that as an invitation to step inside. Jon’s disappeared into a door beyond the stairs - the den, or the dining room? It’s been a while since Rhaegar got to really see the place. He’s never gotten an actual tour, technically, has maybe been in the kitchen twice, ever, let alone the rest of the place. Technically, it's a converted ranger station from back when the family held private ownership over the woods. For all he knows, it's an armory back there.

He glances around surreptitiously for a second, wondering if he has enough time to poke his head around - innocently, of course - only for Lyanna to skid into view before he can even move past the wet room. His pulse quickens, but before he can pull out a greeting as equally as cringeworthy as the first, she interrupts.

“Oh, good. You’re here. I’m heading out then.” She pushes an earring in with lethal precision and force, not even sparing a glance at the conveniently-placed hall mirror, calling back into the house, “Jon? I’m heading out! Did you hear me?”

Rhaegar almost has a heart attack when Jon pops his head in from the nearest room - he could’ve sworn the only way to the back was through the main hall, last time he was here - with a furrowed brow and a playful scowl on display. “Yeah, I’m right here. You don’t need to yell.”

Lyanna is doing her eyeliner, but she pauses to raise her own brows at him in warning. “Sometimes I think you could do with me yelling at you more, actually.”

He rolls his eyes. “Is that even possible?”

She smacks her hairbrush in his general direction in response, a fruitless gesture so familiar to Rhaegar it hurts. “Would you get out of here? With your… teenage… attitude? Ugh.” She fixes her lipstick then shoves her tools in her purse.

“Brutal, mom. Do you have my charger?”

“Our charger,” she insists. “It’s in the den. Go watch some dumb, scary movie, would you? Have a good time with your dad. And get out of my hair!”

Jon gives her a brisk salute as she hurries past.

“We will! Uh, have a good time,” Rhaegar assures her, but his eyes get caught on her cocktail dress, as she scoots past him, adjusts the skirt, and grabs her coat. “Where are you off to? Didn’t think you were even allowed to leave the woods.”

She gives him a slightly withering glance, then shrugs, smiles. “I have a thing.” By now Jon has joined them in the wet room, and she turns to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Lock up when you leave. I’ll see you two later.”

“Gross.” Jon waves from the door as she sidesteps the ice in her heels on her way to her truck. “Bye, mom. Be safe!”

“No worrying, kiddo! Have fun.”

“I know. But still.”

“Thanks, honey,” she clambers into the truck, blows a big, fat kiss from the window, intentionally over-the-top. “Mwah.”

Rhaegar follows her out, takes advantage of her patting around the front seat to plug her phone in. “Seriously, we never talk anymore. What’s the big occasion?”

She gives him a look he decides is indecipherable, then sighs. “Just meeting up with old friends of the family.” She finds the right chord to plug in her phone, then shoos him away from the window. “Okay. Really, this time - I’ll see you guys later.”

By the time she’s pulled out, and he’s shaken himself from his suspicious stupor, Jon is joining him out in the driveway. He shakes his head, then turns and gives him a fond, knowing look. “Where is she actually going?”

Jon, shrugging and hiking his backpack up his shoulder, returns the knowing look, if... decidedly less fond. “Some kind of double date.”

“What?” Rhaegar scoffs. “With who?”

“Uncle Ned and Aunt Catelyn.”

Interesting, but irrelevant. “No, who is she going with?”

“I don’t know. One of the Baratheons.” Jon is walking toward the car at this point.

“Shit!” Rhaegar jolts to follow, stops and curses as he almost slips on the ice, resumes his path with more caution. “Shit. Which one?”

“I don’t remember,” Jon says, popping open the trunk. He throws his luggage in the back.

Rhaegar rubs the back of his neck, exhaling a little in relief at just making it to the car without face-planting. “It can’t be Robert, is it? That’s insane.”

Jon pauses getting into the passenger seat to slip his backpack off his shoulder and spare his father a faintly exasperated look. “Dad…”

“Look, I - I know your uncle and him are friends, I’m sure he’s… fine, but… your mom hates him,” he rushes to clarify. Jon rolls his eyes and gets in the car, and Rhaegar scrambles to follow suit. “She always has.”

“I mean, it’s really none of your business.”

“Right, but… Right. I’m not saying she can’t. I’m just saying it would be stupid, and I hope your uncle hasn’t convinced her to give him another chance, when -”

“Are we going?” Jon interrupts, then sinks into his seat with a strange expression. “Arya and I have been waiting to see this for ages.”

“Uh…” Rhaegar blinks. Thinks. Starts to dig out his keys. “Yeah, we can go…” He starts the engine, but doesn’t take it out of park. “Just, let the engine warm up… How is Arya doing, lately, by the way? She wants to see this film?”

“Yeah,” Jon answers, slouching in his seat. “Has wanted to, for a while, now.”

“How’s she doing? You get to see her much, now she’s getting older?”

Jon turns to pretend to look at something out the window. Rhaegar knows he’s pretending. He was staring at the same goddamn woods waiting for a text for four minutes, so. “Not as much.”

Rhaegar takes this as an opportunity to change the address on his phone. “Is she busy tonight?”

���No.” No uncertainty. Not even a pause.

“You want to invite her along?”

“Seriously?” 

“Why not?” Rhaegar starts backing out of the driveway. “She’s allowed to watch scary movies, right?”

“Yeah, we watch them all the time.” Good. It was a fifty-fifty bet, considering what Catelyn and Ned are respectively like as parents.

“Why don’t you text her? We’re early anyway. We can start heading down that way, and if she says no, we’ll just… You know. Course-correct.”

“Okay. Yeah. I’ll text her.”

“Good. Great. We’ll just… head for your uncle Ned’s.”

And if they happened to run into Lyanna when they got there, well... that's a non-issue.

❦

Thanks so much for reading! Hope it piqued your interest, even though there wasn't a ton of Jonrya right away. It's partly written but not enough to share for feedback. I'm curious to get feedback on the Rhaegar and Lyanna dynamic - I know the characters have huge fans and huge antis and frankly I'm half curious and half worried as to how either party will be reacting to the situation, lol! Anyway, thanks again.

[luviestarz]

enhypen ♡

CATCH US, DISPATCH ! ⎯ l.hs. (completed) (smau)

being in love is hard. being in love with an idol is even harder. being in love with an idol while being an idol yourself is basically hell. what will girl group member y/n and member of boy group enhypen, heeseung, do while in this situation? and are they even trying to hide their relationship? i mean, holding hands without wearing masks and a cap is basically asking for dispatch to catch you!

no nut november - enhypen (smau)

four men suppressing their carnal instincts for thirty days doesn’t sound plausible, but it’s no nut november, so victory is crucial. yet, there’s only one obstacle keeping lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, and park sunghoon from their prize: you. game on, boys.

language of flowers - jungwon (smau)

☆.｡.:* jungwon’s just every bit in love with the student council president who keeps visiting his flowershop OR in which you find solace in a flowershop, and its owner’s grandson finds solace in you.'

lattegyu masterlist (nct, txt, enhypen)

enhais masterlist (enhypen)

sunghun masterlist (enhypen, txt)

koishua masterlist (nct, txt, enhypen)

hykai masterlist (enhypen, txt)

cursedsunoo masterlist (enhypen, txt)

tyundere masterlist (enhypen, nct, txt)

enluv masterlist (enhypen, txt)

iyeonjuni masterlist (enhypen, txt)

jakekgs masterlist (enhypen)

[ 丈夫 ]! ぃ ⸻ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃

you always get what you want, spoiled with the loves of your three brothers who are known to have a sister complex; it comes with much surprise therefore when heeseung makes a move on you. thirteen long years of being in the brother zone having made him utterly clueless that if he's going to date you he has to pass through yeonbin first. and he knows how scary they can be. especially since he's been the third scary one with them, numerous times before.

otptings masterlist (nct, enhypen)

Cafeteria Confessions• PSH

everyone thinks you're dating your childhood best friend sunghoon. well, everyone including sunghoon because he confessed to you almost a year ago and you didn't exactly know it was a confession because of how casually he said it.

˗ˋˏ⊹ ੈ♡ — GARDENING CLUB MASTERLIST — ₊˚ ‧₊ ๑ ˎˊ˗

you heard jungwon isn’t one of many friends, a silent and closed guy, and it’s not a surprise when he barely blinks in your direction when you join the gardening club. it is a surprise when he starts to show interest in you and does anything to be close.

3raaaachachacha masterlist (nct,txt,enhypen)

jeontaeil masterlist (enhypen)

❣︎ ⎯⎯ you’re mine . - jungwon

jungwnies masterlist (txt, bts, enhypen)

iichaeyj masterlist (txt, enhypen)

3raaaachachacha masterlist (nct, txt, enhypen)

delcakoo masterlist (txt, enhypen)

nice to meet you, boyfriend!◞♡ ⃗ - jungwon

when a strange man approaches you at the grocery store, you call for your "boyfriend", who has just cluelessly entered the store, unaware of his new relationship status with you, a complete stranger. hopefully he plays along…

jock!niki x tutor!gn!reader

how is niki supposed to focus on biology when his shy tutor is so irresistible and fun to tease?

infrunami - jungwon

‘fixing their tie’ from list iii.

take (me) out - niki

eating from each others plates

— things they only share with you !

X ▸ yang jungwon (part i)

what do you get when you have a stupid asshole of a bestfriend (who’s completely head over heels for you, should he add) and a fucked up ego that refuses to admit any form of defeat? you guessed it: the summoning of a jealous ex-boyfriend who dumped you two years ago, and is hell-bent on winning you back.

LOVE NEWS ! — YJW SMAU

BREAKING NEWS! valentine’s is right around the corner, yet you still had no partner. you didn’t think too much of it, you probably thought it was just another year where you’ll be single again. not a big issue at all. however, your favorite gossip account proves you wrong! what if you find out someone actually likes you? after gathering all the hints you’ve been given, you narrowed your list down to one person. that one person ended up being yang jungwon, one of your crushes. there’s no way, one of your crushes actually liking you back? will you believe it’s just fake or actual love news?

CUPID’S CORNER — nishimura riki

because he’s a little shit, nishimura riki sends a totally embarrassing confession about you to “cupid’s corner”, a twitter account that posts anonymous confessions from decelis academy students. but when that joke confession suddenly makes a bunch of people confess to you on cupid’s corner (for real this time!) riki finds that he’s jealous — and oh… he can’t believe it took him a fake confession to realise that he’s crazily in love with you.

YELLOW. - jungwon

“I genuinely don't think I've ever felt this strongly about anyone like I feel for you” + going to a concert together

ADMIRING YOU ! - jungwon smau

You've never had good luck with dating. You just couldn't seem to make it work. You were led to believe that was how things would always be. You had no idea but, Jungwon, one of your classmates has been crushing on you for a long time. But because you are you, you never paid attention to him in class. After seeing him staring at you for a time, you finally identify him as a barista at the aroma café. Will anything ever change for you? Will you be able to establish a committed relationship at last?

WIN ONE WIN ME — L.HS

who knew being angry and impulsive can get the captain of the hockey team to notice you? cussing them out when they were losing wasn't the best idea, but it definitely made lee heeseung's head turn, leading to him making a deal with you to win a game in order to get your number. but that wasn't enough for him, he was determined to make you his.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ┆ ENHYPEN GIVING YOU BUTTERFLIES

enha giving you partner privilege ˖ ࣪ ˒ ‎♡⃕

enhypen; how they’re protective over you

enhypen; seeing you again after a long time apart

3:45 am - jungwon

Making out with him - jungwon

[loosingmoreletters]

Oh, I follow that enchanted tulle author on AO3 and so far she/he only writes very few stories, but boy, does she/he love politics so much.

I always find authors who write heavy stuff are awesome because it's a difficult topic to write. I mostly read fluff stories because I think my boys Wangxian need some fluffy moments after the whole chaos in their lives.

Do you like fluffy stories even though LWJ isn't mean there? I can recommend some, but well, they are very fluffy, all happy, no angst 😁

I do read fluff! Also I'm a sucker for happy endings. Very rarely do I enjoy a fic with a bad end - I need that catharsis of everything being resolved. I don't actually read much dark fic in this fandom because my flavor of dark fic isn't particularly catered to.

Not ranked in any way, and absolutely not all my favorites, just those I tagged good enough in my 10k bookmarks to find, but some of my favorite fics are there! (Most are finished, those that aren't can be safely said to have been among my favorites from the first paragraph on.)

愈; to heal by ravenditefairylights

Wei Wuxian has missed the sword. He has missed the steady weight of Suibian in his vicinity, has missed being sure of himself without needing to defend his ability in front of a world that stands opposite of him as jury, judge and executioner. Wei Wuxian has risen and fallen and then gotten up every time, fallen deeper still until there was no way for him to get back up. Wei Wuxian has died and he has come back thirteen years too late and the world has moved on without him. Back to the start—it’s a good place for the beginning. or the one where Wei Wuxian heals, realizes there are people who love him and people he loves and goes back home

I'll buy you the moon (I'll buy you two) by Thesaurus_with_no_words

It's been three days since Wei Wuxian last ate. "Hungry," A-Yuan whines, pulling at his hand. Wei Wuxian tries to focus on the vegetable display in front of him. He's got 10 credits left on the last safe account he's got access to. Half a kilo of wilted vegetables, the cheapest thing in the store, costs 15. The potatoes are sprouted. Half of Wei Wuxian's sluggish mind wonders if that means he can bargain down the prize, while the other half is screaming that something is very wrong. They have been planet-side for around 36 hours and so far nothing adds up. Blinking slowly, Wei Wuxian stares at the potatoes. The green sprouts seem to taunt him. Suddenly he remembers that Shanxu, the planet they are supposed to be on, has a current ban on potatoes, due to some aggressive and rapidly mutating form of crop blight. "Fuck," Wei Wuxian hisses. Where the are they? What planet is this!?

Welcome to the Great Gusu Bake Off! by BlackWiresOnHerHead

Several months ago, college student Wei Wuxian secretly competed in the most popular reality show in the country. The show starts airing in the fall. The freshmen in his dorm collectively lose their minds.

A Thousand Things by tickertape

Wei Ying can’t find his words. “What would I do in Gusu?” The man’s mouth quirks in what Wei Ying cannot interpret as anything but a tiny, smug smirk. “Learn.” Wei Ying has made a fine life for himself. He’s got his jiejies and his talismans; he doesn’t need anyone’s charity. But spending a whole year in Gusu? That’s hard to turn down.

The Best I Can by Zephyr (ZephyrAndTheSilverfish)

‘Have you heard? Hanguang-jun cut ties with the Lan Sect. Stole a child and ran off into the night.’ In which Wei Wuxian is horribly confused by the world he comes back to and can’t help but be drawn to Lan Wangji once more. Lan Jingyi, for his part, is deeply disappointed by the world he grew up in and just wants to see his best friend again.

Hear a song this deeply by so_shhy

Lan Zhan’s new liaison at the Caiyi Municipal Cultivation Department is an enigma – ridiculously talented, yet somehow content with mopping up spiritual pests for barely above minimum wage. Wei Ying is slapdash and irresponsible, and Lan Zhan doesn’t like him at all… but then he meets A-Yuan, who loves music and longs for a piano his father can’t afford. Forced into cautious friendship by a four-year-old's music lessons, Lan Zhan soon realises Wei Ying is more than he seems. The single father is a man of many secrets – including, perhaps, the key to Lan Zhan's life's work. And in the meantime, the background resentment in Caiyi Town is rising to dangerous levels…

The One-Body Problem by metisket

The good news is that Lan Jingyi has found a mentor, friend, and constant companion through the difficulties in life. The bad news is that that’s because he’s been accidentally possessed by the Yiling Patriarch.

Howling by MimiSpearmint

“Sizhui, go to the kitchen,” the Yiling Patriarch orders. His charge – Sizhui, Lan Wangji presumes – hesitates but obeys, looking back over his shoulder as he disappears. Apprentice out of the blast zone, the Patriarch storms up to Lan Wangji, eyes flashing red. “Three words: I. Am. Retired.” Lan Wangji is sent by the Institute to do two things: become the Yiling Patriarch's familiar, and report back his every movement. It does not go how any of them planned.

kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool

The young man blinks at him. Wei Yuan doesn’t spend much time staring at his own face in the mirror, but he knows his reflection well enough; the dark eyes, the straight nose, the round face that comes to a pointed chin. This boy could be his exact double. “Who are you?” the Lan boy facing him asks, tilting his head. He’s got a hand on his sword, but he hasn’t drawn it yet. There’s a faint frown on his face. “Some kind of face-stealing spirit? A demon?” “Pretty rude to go around calling people demons,” Wei Yuan protests. -- Or, Wei Wuxian, presumed dead by the cultivation world, raises one Wen twin. Lan Wangji, presumed dead by Wei Wuxian, raises the other. A Parent Trap AU.

By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller

Wei Wuxian wakes up in Mo Xuanyu's body and heads straight for Lotus Pier. Wu Yingtai is the newest member of the Jiang Clan and rumored to be the future wife of Jiang Wanyin. Lan Wangji is not in love with her.

Everyanything by deliciousblizzardshark, lingeringdust

“I was going to do it! I had Wei Wuxian’s soul and his ritual and I was going to cast it, but I found my poor sister sobbing in the hallway, driven half-mad by our gege and I knew she needed the curse more than I did.” He grinned, slyly, underneath his thick layers of paint. “I knew she wanted to kill the same person I did. So I gave it to her; the soul, the ritual. As long as she promised to get revenge for me as well!” or Wei Wuxian is brought back from death into the body of Qin Su.

The Housewife's Guide to Causing Chaos by dvasva

“Of all the rotten luck I could have!” Outside, in between the gentle embrace of an imposing misty mountain and the caress of soft wind, stood the Cloud Recesses. It wasn’t a section that Wei Wuxian had recognized from his time in the sect, but the motifs of clouds and cranes in the buildings, the impeccable feng shui and carefully manicured paths, and the utter silence as the sect members slept peacefully, all burned themselves into Wei Wuxian’s eyes. No wonder the curtains were so firmly nailed to the walls! Any bit of demonic energy escaping the room could call down a veritable army of righteous cultivators! What sort of person in their right mind would dare to summon a spirit into their own body using resentful energy in the Cloud Recesses of all places? What kind of person would scoff so rudely at the Lan Clans most important rule, ‘Do not fraternize with evil?’ After being dead for four years, Wei Wuxian wakes up in a body he doesn't really feel comfortable with, in a place that he's sure wants him dead, and married to a man who surely hates him.

Words are Gonna Bleed from Me by GravityWinsAgain

"Yiling Laozu, GusuLan Triad requests your services." At this, Wei Wuxian laughs and a thousand ghosts laugh with him. ~Or: Wei Wuxian died and Yiling Laozu rose in his place. He has avoided the Triad societies he grew up around, maintaining his anonymity and forging a new cultivation path. Now, thirteen years later, Hanguang-jun walks into Demon-Subdue Hall and requests Yiling Laozu's services for GusuLan Triad. Something is stirring in the world. Something that necessitates his return to a life and to people he’s long since mourned as lost to him.

Going on charmingly by scribbet

He pulled the door open smoothly, leaving the noisemaker with their fist still raised mid-knock.  He could glimpse white robes underneath a thick and practical-looking travel cloak, but surely no member of his sect would think to barge in upon him in such a way. “Hello!” the interloper exclaimed, a bright smile coming into view as he lifted the sopping veils away to one side. “Would you happen to know how to reach the Cloud Recesses?” Or, a teenage Wei Wuxian arrives at the Lan sect as a (mostly) respected disciple of the Immortal Baoshan Sanren instead of the well-known troublemaker of Yunmeng Jiang. Lan Wangji learns to come to terms with this (eventually).

the problem with authority by isabilightwood

When Qin Su learns the truth about Jin Guangyao after the death of her son, she sacrifice summons Jiang Yanli. It goes slightly sideways. Jiang Yanli isn’t exactly one for revenge. But she does want her brother back, and the cultivation world could do with a bit of fixing. A resurrected Wei Wuxian is all too happy to help. But taking down Jin Guangyao would be easier if Lan Wangji stopped accidentally getting in the way.

Everything That Could Have Been by QueenXIV

Thirteen years of nothing were a long time, but for Wei Wuxian it had been literally nothing. One day he was filled with resentful energy, completely under the influence of the Yin Tiger Seal, and the next one he was waking up in a stranger’s body, confused, weak and being asked for revenge. Wei Wuxian then finds himself back in Cloud Recesses after encountering Lan Xichen and ends up becoming a caregiver for Lan Wangji, who is paying the price of everything Wei Wuxian did in his past life.

梅花/plum blossoms by bunnxianluvsu (MooseFeels), MooseFeels

Lan Wangji has been chief cultivator for many years when he is given a gift.

Fentao-laoshi's Guide to Cut-Sleeve Pleasures by occultings (microcomets)

Lan Wangji says, “I am also looking to . . . gain practical experience. It seemed mutually advantageous.” “Mutually advantageous,” Wei Wuxian echoes. “Wait. Do you mean I’d get to . . . ?” Lan Wangji stares at him. “Practice — on you?” Wei Wuxian finishes, his eyes round with disbelief. — During a shared summer studying in the Cloud Recesses, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian diligently pursue an informed sexual education. What could possibly be the harm in some mutual learning?

In Imitation of Life by travelingneuritis

Lan Zhan stops in front of one of the bespoke duplicates— a male figure, small, creamy-skinned and lithe. The name on the plinth reads Mo Xuanyu. Lan Zhan tested it on his first pass through the room. The doll was empty. No signals bouncing around its artificial brain, no operating programs queued to autostart. Not even a blinking dormancy light. "Hey big guy," says Mo Xuanyu, chrome eyes sparkling with fun. "Who do I gotta fuck around here to get unplugged?" Wei Ying is a rogue AI come to life. Lan Zhan is… handling it.

The Blacksmith of Yiling by Aki_no_hikari

Wei Ying escapes his first winter in the streets by following the light and warmth of a forge. There he finds refuge, for himself, and others as well.

i’ll take a secondhand monster by Stratisphyre

“You must not stray to the lower levels, A-Yu,” Yao-ge told him with his scary, empty smile. “Or else I shall tell the beast down there to eat you.” There is a monster in Koi Tower.

The True Story of How Concubine Mo Seduced the Crown Prince by Enigmatree

(Spoiler: not a speck of seduction was involved. The Crown Prince to the Empire came fully seduced long before Concubine Mo was even called Mo Xuanyu, not that anybody else needs to know that.)

Give You What You Like by Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle)

Wen Chao's dungeons are warm and comfy. Especially when there's two of you. (Or: what if Wen Chao had been a slightly more competent - or perhaps slightly luckier - villain?)

Teach Me The Ways by likeafox

Rogue Cultivator Wei Wuxian is the stuff of local legends. Some of those legends are even true! The ones about his tremendous experience in bed, on the other hand, are not so true. Which becomes a problem when Lan Wangji, on the verge of an arranged marriage and worried he won’t know how to please his future spouse, enlists Wei Ying's help to teach him the art of love-making. Wei Ying's great at improvisation, though, and is pretty sure he's got this sex mentor thing under control. What could possibly go wrong?

Crossed Wires by stardust_and_sunlight

“My laptop is cursed,” Lan Wangji said, stepping forward to place his bag on the counter and pull his laptop out. “My brother said you deal with that.” “Wei Ying!” the man called. “A curse for you!” [Lan Wangji's laptop is cursed, and he meets Wei Wuxian, expert in cursed technology.]

River-to-the-Sea Sure by Deastar

Wen guards escort Lan Wangji to his quarters at the end of the day’s indoctrination; this evening, Wei Wuxian follows, branching off at the last moment from the path to the building in which the Jiang disciples are lodged. “We’re all prisoners here either way,” he argues to the guards, with a disarming smile. “What does it matter which building I’m imprisoned in, eh?” After the guards slam the doors in Wei Wuxian’s face, the two of them are alone. Wei Wuxian folds down to sit, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. “Lan Zhan,” he says lightly. “What do you think Wen Chao and his henchmen would do, if I went into heat here?”