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occamstfs · 2 months ago

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What You Really Want

Milo mouths off about a man dating his long time crush before immediately learning the lesson that he should be less trusting of strange voices promising to fulfill his desires

Pretty standard straight to gay himbo/jockification! It will also be my final story for some time I believe, so I do hope you enjoy! -Occam

“It’s no fair that they literally have it all.” Like many a ‘nice guy’ Milo has spent an inordinate amount of time skulking social media and disparaging more physically gifted men as he stumbles across them. The root of his despair is not difficult to ascertain, his eyes burning with envy make quite clear the inner monologue of ‘girls always date assholes.’ He sneers as he comes across the most recent post of his friend and crush, Juliet. The jealous man of course knows next to nothing about the character of James, the jock-type now dating her, but judging by the gleaming smirk and the bulky arms of a killer hanging from his shoulders, the judgemental dweeb has more than enough evidence to speculate.

Delving into his memories, Milo’s face burns with embarrassment as he recalls mentioning his crush to Juliet, ‘Oh!’ her bright eyes shift uncomfortably and her cheeks begin to blush enough to match the pink tint she threw on this morning. Milo’s fist clenches as she almost giggles in her discomfort, ‘sorry Milo I guess- Well, I guess I just thought you were gay?’ After this Milo played it cool, he thinks. Hand scratching the back of his head as he asserts his straight identity and the two go on to have a meal far more quiet and awkward than usual. When new-boyfriend James comes to pick up Juliet, Milo forces a smile before staring daggers at his back as the pair walk away.

This brings us to the present hate scrolling session in which Milo is more than absorbed. Lips curl into a sneer as he traces the impossible to ignore curves of this must-be dullard’s defined body. Milo scoffs as he sees the litany of women that must make up the man’s dating history. “Bet they won’t even last a week, ha! I mean judging by how much the douche spends in the gym I bet he’s just using her as a beard anyway.”

With this final rather homophobic assertion, the nerd’s phone flashes before going dark, “What the-” before he has to determine whatever caused this, he goes stiff as a strange voice resounds through his head. ‘Tired of all the big boys getting what they want, hmm?’ Immediately concerned he’s lost his mind, Milo gets to powering back on his phone to call for help. ‘Now now, Milo. Do not worry your little head. I am here to help. Would you not like the chance to be just like them?’ Just like them. Envy burns through his veins greater than anything. Sensing this immediately, whatever this voice is seizes upon his clearly fragile psyche, its laughter steely and alien, ‘Ah ha ha. I thought so.’

Dropping his phone once more, Milo tries to drill the voice, “Wh- what are you exactly. Are you a dem- hm, an angel?” The voice answers almost before he even finishes the thought, ‘It matters not what I am. All that matters are your desires. Now. Do you wish to be all you desire, all this James embodies? All that he is in your head.” Miles gulps and almost starts drooling at the idea, just like James. Women at his fingertips whenever he wants, a body sculpted by the gods while keeping a far better mind than that oaf could ever afford. With next to no hesitation or forethought, Milo nods and the world goes dark.

When he awakens the poorly mannered man finds it’s the next day. His phone rests in his hand and when opened he finds it zoomed in on a picture of James’ meaty bicep. Milo rolls his eyes and tosses his phone aside before going to stand. Making it halfway up he grunts in pain as he only then discovers morning wood more pressing and turgid than he’s ever encountered. Falling back down he clutches at the pain in his crotch from his cock being forcibly yanked by his underwear. Hands now grasping it he gasps as he finds it filling them far more than it has any right to.

Well now, while they’re already down there he might as well have some fun right? After briefly struggling to get his waistband over his swollen package his mouth falls open in shock as he’s finally able to appraise the almost unrecognizable cock hanging from his crotch. It’s like none he’s seen before, not that he generally observes dicks of course. Far more impressive than he imagined a dick could be. His fingertips can scarcely meet his palm when he tries to grasp it, and as he begins rubbing it it feels leagues more sensitive than it has before now, as if nerve endings are multiplying. Looking to his awaiting phone he sees the photo of James and what’s her name as he begins masturbating outright.

Seeing a bulge in James’ strained pants he grunts as he returns to stare at his own suddenly substantial cock. More like him. The already thicker rod strains as he reflexively humps into his hand, forcing his grip wider as it expands to simply need more room. The new veins painting the length of his nascent ten inch dick surge higher up its length as he swears he can see them pulse and bulge with each racing heartbeat. Beneath his thrusting hands, bouncing as his hips continue to forcefully thrust with more strength than he has, his balls similarly grow heavier, larger as they send hormones flowing through him enough to metamorphosize and, more immediately, cause pre to stream and coat his fingers.

Milo leans his head back as he is bursting with a need for release greater than he can understand. He shifts his jaw as it twinges with the pleasure of growth, widening and strengthening into one fit for titan. Below his newly defined chin, his neck thickens and moans grow deeper as an Adam's apple bulges out of his throat. Hearing his voice echo deeper throughout his bedroom, his heady pleasure comes to a head as he is struck with the bizarre urge to lick the pre off his fingers. Before he’s able to acquire or express shock and disgust, his eyes blast open and he is again staring at the image of James, more like- and he blows his load.

The moment of release may as well have shut him down once more, pleasure overloads him like a flashbang as every inch of his body feels at once. Drool drips from his plumper lips as his mind is fried and his hips continue to thrust without any input or awareness, sending stains across his wall and splattering into his darker hair as it begins to pull shorter and tint darker. Eyebrows thicken and cover more of his forehead as his brow hangs lower over his eyes staining brown and growing duller.

His whole form tenses as he finally achieves release, staring at the image of his, uh, competition. Arms flex as his hands crack wider, fingers stretch longer, skin grows rougher. For the first time in his life definition appears on his arms, biceps and triceps compete for which can increase faster, which can catch more eyes, which can rival those alluring arms of James. Beneath shoulders packing on weight are pits that darken with curls now thicker, a deeper brown nearing black as the forest strives to prevent any light from breaking the canopy. Similarly they moisten with the masculine heady musk that they are perfectly designed to disseminate, powerful enough to allure any twink towards his dick, or uh, huh.

Milo moans as this seemingly intrusive thought makes itself at home in his morphing psyche. Barely returning to sentience enough to realize the stray gay thought, he arches his back and stretches as if he were waking up. Mindlessly he wipes the cum staining his larger hands on the new dark treasure trail as it itches and slowly inches up from pubes unshaved. Feeling the hint of an Adonis belt he sits up with a shock, the feeling of something he has long envied bringing back his awareness.

Despite the obvious differences it takes far too long for him to be aware of, to truly notice what has become of him. He struggles to make sense of the effort it takes to move his new larger limbs. He grabs at his new hair and sucks drool through his teeth as he tries to understand how it’s changed texture and color so totally, did he dye it and forget or what? The gears in his mind slowly turn as his fingers move to scratch an itch under his arms, struggling through the dank jungle of curls. Thoughtlessly he brings his sweat-wet fingers to his nose and grimaces. “Fuck man, I smell like an, uh, like a, unnh-” he moans quietly as he’s unable to even finish the sentence, instead an image of James forces its way to the front of his mind and two now-malnourished brain cells spark together and strain to form a thought.

“Oh fuck I’m turning into a imbe-, an uh imbekle? Ugh, an uh- a dumb jock.” Milo bites his lips and flexes an arm to try and assuage his nerves, to get his attention focused on anything but his anxieties. Fortunately to this end, seeing his bulging biceps he feels his larger cock begin to stir. Some semblance of rationality knows ceding to his wanting package is probably what led to this encroaching fog over his mind. His skin begins to prickle as all-around it grows more sensitive. Beyond these skin deep sensations it also seems as if darker hairs are beginning to spread out wherever his follicles will allow.

Seeing hair beginning to prickle his chest and blanket his legs his mind produces images of hairy men he has leered at through the years. His neck twitches as whatever dregs of the pathetic skirtchaser he once was rise up and try to combat his new predilections. He’s straight, he’s always been straight. Right? His mouth goes dry as he tries to remember ever having dated a woman in the past. Barring that, only just able to recall that something is happening to him, only just able to remember that he is transforming into some alien self, Milo tries to produce an image of what he used to look like. And he cannot.

His mouth falls open as it often does whenever he struggles to produce a thought, making it almost his default state. Mouth-breathing mouth ajar he fully experiences the thick air of his bedroom as it fills with his new musk. The room around him begins to dissolve and reform into surroundings that reinforce who he is now, that prove this is who he has always been. Clean pressed laundry dirty and shift into unwashed gym clothes that help cloud the room with his stink. Posters of whatever movies and video games he enjoys corrupt into images celebrating the impressive male form, all distinctly stained from the years of hanging on Milo’s bedroom walls. He hears clanking outside of his bedroom as bookshelves collapse and reform into weights heavier than he would be able to lift.

Milo stumbles to his larger feet and ignores the hefty weight of his balls and cock bobbing in the air as he drags himself out of his bedroom to find a mirror. He leaves sweaty footprints larger than any shoes he owns on the tile of the bathroom as he bumbles in. Leaning over the sink his lips quiver as he sees a razor clogged with hair darker than he feels he should have. Sooner than the doubts arrive they vacate as a thick, stubbled beard rapidly bursts onto his face. Looking up he smirks as he sees a thick mustache surges over his upper lip, looking just like the ones he appreciates, just like he has always been into. His eye twitches and he grunts as his hair retracts once more into something far more intentional and stylish. At the same time pecs suddenly bulge larger and hang lower as Milo leans heavier over the bathroom sink.

His eyes glaze over as complex thoughts once more become too elusive in the face of his rising lusts. Muscles bulge larger as his back and legs creak, stretching him taller as thighs and shoulders widen and continue putting on mass. Feet spread like fins on the floor as his hands widen and sweatily slide on the ceramic sink. His mouth continues to water as he inspects all these increasingly masculine changes and his cock continues to throb. Milo bites his lip as new sensations arise from his cock once more, this time the change is apparent as his foreskin regrows, making his cock look even thicker as its head grows hooded and he struggles not to immediately break into masturbation at the powerful image of his own seductive form.

Milo’s barely functioning mind struggles to argue for any reason to not just return to the immeasurable delights of gratifying his all-encompassing urges. He stays his hands for a moment before the greatest horror yet rears its head. A monologue begins in his mind that is not his own, that cannot be his own. Dull laughter echoes through his increasingly vacant mind as a voice even slower and deeper than that which sounds from his new vocal chords, “Yooo broo come onnnnn. Give up, give in. This is what you wanted, ‘s what we wanted huhuhuh.”

He feels a pressure in his balls as they almost churn with the otherworldly need that seemingly always flows through him. He can’t help but imagine the men he’s going to bed with his new endowment, how many cocks he’s going to take in his new powerful ass. Drool trickles from his lips through the dense black stubble that coats his face denser with each second, with each breath. Spit continues down the length of his more defined face before dripping onto weighty, similarly furred pecs. His heavier hands slowly creep towards the hardening cock standing tall and long from the jungle of pubes. Before he’s able to assist his thrusting hips however, his lusty haze is interrupted by his phone chiming. His mind immediately thinks it must be James which fills him with conflicting emotions of rage and giddiness. “Ohh bro maybe he’s inviting us over. It’s been toooo long since we fucked huhuh-”

Milo pointedly tries to ignore his hairier, bulkier reflection as he stumbles out of the bathroom to check his phone. Unfortunately he catches a glimpse which makes it all the more difficult to ignore the throbbing weight dripping, almost pouring, pre onto the floor. Despite it all he stands strong, quieting this other voice as it urgently tries to convince him to give in before he’s able to pick up his phone. In a final act of resistance, or perhaps impotence, he has the lofty idea of calling for help before his mind goes completely blank and, seeing the notification, he instinctually goes to his messages to find who texted him. It’s Juliet!

First his heart flutters before he’s absolutely confused at the sensation. She’s just his bestie? Weird. He shakes off whatever that was and gets on to reading the message, “heyy girlie- which of these do you want me to post? Oh ya and lmao, are you and james cool if I do the last one?” At the mention of James his pulse again races and there are butterflies in his stomach far more powerful than whatever bizarre feelings he had but moments ago. No time to dwell, Milo starts swiping through the images sent. They’re a photoset of their little group outing to a halloween party last week, the trio, Milo, James and Jules dressed up as a group, as X-men! Respectively dressed as Wolverine, Cyclops and Jean Grey.

He smirks as he starts chubbing up again thinking of how easily he was able to pass as the hairy beast. His eyes then return to see James’ bubble butt in trademark spandex, which only makes it harder to not lose control then and there, moaning as he imagines playing with that ass. Holding to whatever well of willpower remains within him Milo holds strong and keeps his hands above waist level. Finally he gets to the specific image Juliet mentioned, one of him and James messily making out on the dance floor. James yanks at the hairy Milo’s hair, visor half hanging off as Milo reciprocates by shoving his hand into James’ pants. Fuck that’s hot.

Without even touching his needy cock, without any pleading from the new voice in his head, without a single chance to hold back. Simply from seeing the steamy image of him and James, Milo’s mind is overrun with memories and desires of the new man he is. The man he ever was and always will be. And for the second time today, but not the last, he loses control. Cum splatters against his phone as his mind goes blank anew with rushing pleasure. Painting himself once more with his most-used utensil he laughs dumbly as he realizes how swiftly he just came. Almost with pathetic haste, though now he’s quite unfamiliar with any sense of shame. The voice that only just wormed its way into his head spills from his mouth as it fully and forevermore wrests control as the true Milo.

“Huhuhuh guess I should work on my hair trigger,” He grunts as he looks at his phone and texts back some variation of ‘girl that’s porn you can’t post that!!!’ he turns his mind where it goes more often than anywhere in his new life. He wonders what James is doing and immediately texts him. Waiting for a reply Milo heads off to the gym to get a pump in before presumably going to meet him, not worrying about cleaning up or covering his scent. The gym’s for smelling like a man right? He certainly wouldn’t mind if everyone else followed his lead huhuh. Milo bites his lip trying to ignore his hardening cock as he makes his way out of the apartment clad in too-tight, stained gym clothes.

Before he even makes it out the complex he gets a text from James and promptly changes course. Immediately Milo’s racing down the street to his lover’s apartment. Cock already snaking down his shorts and creating a stain at its nadir, Milo hopes he can keep his needy cock at bay until he makes it. Thinking of the alternative work out he’s to enjoy in bed with James, Milo struggles to not moan obscenely as he waddles as quickly as he can into the lobby of James’ building. Heart racing with excitement he can’t wait to see James in person. Jittery with nerves, it feels like he’s going to meet the man for the first time. Hah! Milo promptly ignores the idea and starts to get some stretching in before their session. Trying to practice mindfulness with a mind thicker than mud he quickly finds himself possessed with memories of their countless times fucking in the past. Easy enough as the pair have been doing so for years. Still nerves assail him as his cock continues to strain his shorts. As the elevator doors click open he smirks as he was able to make it this far without blowing his third load of the day. His cock throbs with anticipation for its release soon to come, and impatiently awaits each and every similar session to follow.

#male tf #mental change #straight to gay #male transformation #hair growth #muscle tf #jockification #dumber #reality change

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heartfullofleeches · 5 months ago

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What if someone from "Sheep"'s old pack came back around and tried to expose them, maybe for joy in suffering or to get people to split away and have an easy meal?

Sorry if this read weird I'm tired as hell

(I doubt any of them would recognize "Sheep" after all these years, but here's what would happen if any predator tried to reveal "Sheep's" identity.")

[Warnings Physical Violence, "Sheep" has a panic attack.]

"How stupid can you lot be?"

No...This isn't real. It's all a bad dream, right? You'll wake up any minute now, surrounded by all your friends and neighbors you've yet to acquaint yourself with. Perhaps you'll finally join Rabbit on one of their picnics. Or maybe Swan can teach you how to play chess - surely he must be tired of you asking which piece is which every time you play.

Claws digging into the meat of your shoulders stake you within the world of this cruel reality. This isn't a dream. You can't wake up, even if you chewed your own tongue off and suffocated on the blood as every cell in your body screamed at you to do. It would save you the torment. Your mouth hangs open, ragged draws of air and the smooth, filed surface of your canines preventing you from carrying out the deed.

"A sheep? This thing?" The cackle he barks causes your knees to curl against your chest - body instinctively trying to make you as small as possible. What do you have to be do afraid of? If you weren't so spineless you could've done something by now. Everyone is going to die now, and they'll die hating you.

"I wouldn't be surprised if we grew up from the same pack!"

It won't be long now- the concern for their fellow neighbor bleeding away to further terror and confusion. Were you responsible for the recent disappearances? How long until you devoured everyone? Monster. Beast. Wolf.

The townspeople are in a frenzy. What should they do? If the wolf's claims are true.... No- That could be dealt with that. The most important thing was getting you away from him before he hurt you anymore. They're so many of them. It'd be easy, right? The thought crosses their minds, but no one dares to speak first. A rabbit grows annoyed of their hesitance. Whilst the town is bickering amongst themselves, you're laying there - cowering for your life as that wolf threatens to ruin it for you. It isn't fair. The knife in their basket was for cutting cakes for you to share...

"Liar....."

As the rabbit weaves through the crowd, another resident of the town returns home from her daily gatherings. Rocks weight the pockets of her dress - the shouts and panic from her fellow neighbors channeling miles throughout the forest. Scrambling to find the sharpest one, she throws it directly at the back of the wolf's head.

"You damned liar!"

The wolf staggers forward - a pitiful whine escaping you as his claws retract from your shoulder. Blood gushes from the back of his cranium, a sharp ringing in his ears bring him to his knees - landing center on the blade aimed at his stomach.

"About a week ago, Sheep and I found a robin's nest in my backyard.... They got all teary eyed when the last egg wouldn't hatch... Tell me.... Would a wolf do that?"

Rabbit plants their foot on the wolf's chest, twisting the handle of their knife as they rip it from his bowels. The wolf grabs into their ankle, using what little strength he has to shove them off of him. Mouse leaps onto him from behind, slamming another rock into the nape of his neck.

"Take it back! Take it back! Sheep isn't anything like you! How dare you accuse them! You monster!"

Stop....

Your voice is too quiet for any of them to hear. You doubt that'd stop them anyway. They'll kill him. He came here to do the same, but does that make it right? Strong arms lift you from the dirt floor - mindful of their antlers as they place your head to their shoulder. Mayor Moose always knew you best - hushing your sniffles as soon as they begin. Swan stands off to the side behind him, refusing to meet your eyes. He tucks the coat of his suit over the handgun strapped to his belt.

"I'm sorry..... I'm so sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" Swan still fails to look up at you. He knows if he does- there's the smallest chance he'll give into your pleads.

"Get some rest. You'll need it after the day you've had."

Carried away from the commotion, the defenses your fellow townspeople confess, the blood they spill so that your innocent is kept - the blood loss and sheer shock of it all lulls you into a dreamless slumber.

It's the best sleep you've gotten in months.

#yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #yandere imagines #yandere hybrid #hybrid reader #sheep reader #wolf reader

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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How You Play the Game Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley wins a box seat ticket for the first game of the World Series final, he doesn't think his day could get any better. But when he's given a seat in the press box by mistake, he meets a gorgeous sports writer from New York. And he has one of the best nights of his life.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, and smut (18+)

Length: 6300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Bradley was half asleep, sipping on his coffee while he drove to North Island from his house in the soft pre dawn light. He really hated these early training days that started at six o'clock and didn't end until after dinnertime. He'd be in the air all day, and then he'd probably be too tired to stay awake to watch game one of the World Series.

Everyone on base was excited that the Padres were playing the Angels. A Southern California showdown for the ages. Tickets to game one in San Diego were selling for almost a thousand dollars per seat, but the sports radio host Bradley was listening to was giving them away.

Bradley yawned as the host asked, "Who was the first major league baseball player to pitch a ball over 100 miles per hour?"

"That's easy," Bradley mumbled. "Nolan Ryan." And then he realized that it was 5:30 in the morning and perhaps nobody else who was listening knew that fact. "Huh," he grunted, reaching for his phone at a red light. He dialed the number and was shocked when he got through to the host.

"Good morning, caller! What's your name? Where are you from?"

"I'm Bradley. From Coronado."

"Do you have an answer for me, Bradley? Which major league player was the first to pitch over 100 miles per hour?"

"That would be Nolan Ryan."

"You sound confident in your baseball knowledge," the host replied. "Double or nothing? I'll upgrade your ticket to a seat in a box suite if you can tell me which team Ryan was pitching against."

Bradley smiled to himself as he pictured the boxes of his dad's old baseball cards that he still had in his garage. "He was pitching against the Chicago White Sox."

And just like that, Bradley was the proud owner of a suite ticket for game one of the World Series at Petco Park later that night.

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Your flight from New York to San Diego had been delayed so many times, you were a little surprised you managed to get to your hotel in your rental car and then make it to the game on time. At least you'd been able to start writing your article on the flight. Unless the game went into extra innings, you should be able to finish by your midnight deadline. Because if there was one thing the New York Times didn't mess around with, it was the hard cutoff for your submissions.

As you made your way to the media entrance at Petco Park, you pulled out your lanyard with your credentials and looped it around your neck. As soon as someone learned that you were a sports writer for the most prestigious newspaper in the country, they were either impressed or they did a double take. You were a freshly thirty year old female with a ten year career in sports journalism, and you didn't take shit from any guys about it.

In fact, you loved it when men tried to one up you. Because they never could. You knew more than they did about sports, you were an amazing writer, and you found pleasure in shutting them down. Preferably in front of their friends. And then they would inevitably try to ask you out. And you would shut that down, too. It was a game that you were very good at now.

As you were scanned into the ballpark by a security officer, you quickly made your way up to your assigned press box. You expected the heavy hitters to be there. And of course you'd be the youngest, and probably one of just a few women in attendance. As you climbed the narrow stairs and swiped your badge one last time, you opened the door and strolled past a table filled with food and drinks. And then you saw them: Carl from ESPN, Jack from The Chicago Tribune, Harold from the Los Angeles Times, and Quincy from the Philadelphia Inquirer. You would keep your guard up, because it was just a matter of time before one of them made some sort of comment about your ability to do your job.

The room was already filling up as you claimed a spot on one of the narrow counters where you could set up your computer and get to work. You removed your lanyard and tossed it next to your stuff, and then you waved to Raya from MSN Sports, the only other female in the room. When you turned to grab a drink and some food, you noticed the flash of a handsome face and a mustache. And then you stifled a scream as you saw and felt a plastic cup of cold beer meet your chest before soaking the front of you completely.

"Oh, fuck!" came the deep, raspy voice of the most handsome man you could remember seeing in recent history as he stared at your chest. You supposed it was a fair trade, because you couldn't look away from his face no matter what you did. He was hot; all tan skin, brown eyes, and wavy, brown hair. And the blush that crept in and colored his cheeks made him look boyish as he glanced up to meet your eyes. "I'm so sorry!"

When he swallowed hard, and his eyes drifted down to your chest again, you looked down as well. Great. Your light blue lace bra was plainly visible through your white blouse, and the beer was even dripping onto your jeans and your new, white Chucks.

You just shook your head and shrugged. "It's okay. Shit happens. But why did you bring a beer in here?" you asked. But he still looked so embarrassed and flustered, you decided to mess with him. "Who do you write for? I'll send them my laundry bill."

"Write?" he asked, and yep, that was confirmation that he had the sexiest voice you had ever heard.

"Yeah," you said, feeling a little flustered yourself as you reached for some napkins to dab your shirt dry. "Tampa Bay Times? Boston Globe? Oh Lord, don't tell me you're from Barstool Sports. I don't recognize you, and I'm pretty sure I'd remember you." That was a lie; you would definitely have remembered him.

"No," he said, watching your every move. "I don't write."

You laughed as his gaze flicked up from your chest to your eyes when you looked up at him. "That explains the alcohol, then. But why are you in the press box? Did you get lost up here?"

He smirked at that. "No. I won a radio contest and got a seat in a box suite. But somehow my ticket got mixed up, and they sent me a media pass instead."

"Really?" you asked, eyeing him up and down now. "I had to pay for a four year journalism degree for my media pass, and you're going to tell me I could have just listened to the radio?"

His laugh was infectious and his smile made you a little giddy as he held out his hand to you. "I'm Bradley. I don't think I could manage to write an article about sports, even if I was getting paid to do it. You must be very talented." You preened a bit at his words as you shook his hand. "And I'm really sorry about the beer," he added, gesturing to your shirt. "I'd offer to get you a drink or dinner, but the food in here is free, and you're actually working. So, I'll just stand here like an idiot and keep shaking your hand and apologizing until you tell me your name and tell me to stop. I'm really sorry about your shirt." He was still shaking your hand, and now you couldn't stop smiling.

You told him your first name and then you said, "You can stop shaking my hand now, Bradley."

"Let me grab you some water?" he asked, and when you nodded, he turned toward the bar in the far corner. And you took in his tall frame, broad shoulders and massive biceps which were highlighted by his Padres shirt.

"Oh no," you whispered to yourself, still mindlessly dabbing your wet blouse with some napkins.

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Bradley turned toward you with two water bottles, and thankfully this time he managed to keep the drinks in his hands. You were so fucking cute, and your wet shirt was doing crazy things to him. He couldn't stop smiling, and when you looked up at him and cautiously accepted your drink, you were smiling too.

"Thanks for not drenching me again," you said, tapping your drink to his. And then Bradley heard an older guy call your name, and you turned in his direction.

"Nice shirt," he shouted so everyone was suddenly looking your way. "That how you plan on getting an exclusive with one of the players? Sex sells now? I thought this was about the game."

Bradley was appalled that another journalist was talking to you like that, but before he could say that your wet shirt was actually his fault, you were shouting back at the guy.

"Harold, you couldn't even drag your sorry, old ass down to the field fast enough to get an exclusive with the mascot. I don't know how you're not retired or dead yet. Didn't you cover the 1922 World Series?"

Bradley watched Harold purse his lips at you before he turned away and took a seat. And when Bradley glanced down at you as you sipped your water, you looked completely unfazed. And he was ridiculously turned on.

"Damn, nobody should be messing with you," he said, thoroughly impressed. "You're an Ace."

You just rolled your eyes, but you looked very pleased by his words. He already knew he wanted to talk to you all night, but now you were setting your drink down next to your computer and opening it as you sat. "This is a boys club. Just a dick measuring contest. I can't let up for a second or I'll get steamrolled."

Bradley let his eyes dip down to your damp shirt as he asked, "I don't want to commit another beer related crime. You seem to know how this press box stuff works. Mind if I sit with you?"

"Not at all," you told him as you licked your lips. "As long as you don't spill anything else on me."

Bradley eased himself down on the stool next to yours, and his knee brushed your thigh. He watched you filling out a baseball stat sheet while you opened up a document on your computer.

"So what was the trivia question?" you asked as you sipped your water again.

"Trivia question?" he murmured, watching your lips wrap around the rim of the bottle before you took a drink.

"Yeah, isn't that how you won the pass? For the box seat? Even though you're slumming it with the journalists now?"

"I wouldn't call this slumming it," he said, eyeing your pretty face. "But yeah, they asked who was the first pitcher to throw a ball over 100 miles per hour."

"Oh. Nolan Ryan. Angels versus the White Sox. Nice," you said as you smiled at him. Fuck. You liked sports. You wrote about sports. You were gorgeous, and you knew more about sports than he did. Bradley let his mind drift to peeling off your damp, white shirt and licking the taste of beer off your chest while you moaned baseball stats and ran your fingers through his hair. He could definitely get into that. He briefly wondered if you were going to be at the next game here on Sunday.

And then you were keeping the game stats in your notebook at the same time you typed up notes, and Bradley realized he had missed the first few pitches. "Oof, that was a sloppy curveball," you muttered as you peered down at the field before checking the overhead screen. "He's supposed to be their Ace."

"Nah, you're the Ace," Bradley said, and you turned to grin at him as your fingers brushed against his. There was not a lot of room at this little countertop, and when you tried to nudge his arm out of the way, he wrapped it around the back of your stool.

"How am I supposed to keep my stats with you taking up so much space?" you asked, but your tone sounded playful, and you leaned a little closer to him. "You're massive."

Those words spoken in your voice had his cock stirring. "Yeah well, not a lot I can do about that, Ace."

That grin was back as you tapped the end of your pencil against your lips, and his gaze followed the motion. "So what do you do, Bradley? I'm going to guess you're not a waiter since you can't walk without spilling drinks. And you're definitely not a writer."

"I'm a pilot. A naval aviator," he told you softly, running his thumb along your back and watching you bite your lip.

"Fascinating," you told him before returning your attention back to the game and scribbling down the pitch count. And that's when Bradley's gaze landed on your badge which was sitting next to your computer.

He recognized your full name immediately. "Holy shit. You write for the New York Times."

"Yeah," you replied, turning to look at him before pulling your lip between your teeth again.

"Ace. I recognize your name. You're the best sports writer in the country."

Bradley was blushing, he knew he must be, but your bright smile was focused on him, and he couldn't keep his fingertips from drawing lazy shapes along your back where his hand rested.

"You know me?"

He nodded and raised an eyebrow at you. "You're famous. I read your articles all the time. I downloaded the New Your Times app solely for you."

When you laughed and gently bit the eraser end of your pencil, Bradley groaned. "You're funny," you told him.

"You're gorgeous." The words were out his mouth before he could stop himself. He thought about apologizing, but then you leaned in a little closer and ran your pencil eraser up his thigh along his jeans.

"Stop distracting me," you whispered, kissing his cheek before returning your attention to your computer. Your lips had brushed the end of his mustache, and he could still feel the soft sensation there as you gazed at him from the corner of your eyes. This was going to be a long night for Bradley.

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

Bradley had called you gorgeous. He was playful, and he kept a smile on your lips. When he made a comment about the Angels' catcher, you told him, "You're completely right. I'm adding that to my piece." And he blushed that deep shade of pink again.

"Damn, Ace. I'll be thinking about your voice when I read your article tomorrow morning."

"Mm," you hummed, marking down another strikeout. "It would be fun to read it to you. I think you'd blush. The whole time."

His lips were parted, and he looked a little surprised. "It would be the filthiest of dirty talk," he muttered, and when you giggled, he grinned.

You had to bite your lip against the desire to kiss his cheek again. "World Series articles and pitching stats? That's what's gonna do it for you, Bradley?"

"Shit, how dirty can you make those pitching stats?" he whispered, thumb still skimming along the back of your shirt.

"You'd be surprised," you told him, shooting him an innocent look as he nodded at you.

"I'm sure I would."

The more you scribbled down in your notebook as the game progressed, the closer Bradley got to you. His big palm was warm on your back and you found yourself leaning into him more and more. By the eighth inning, his leg was pressed up against yours and he just kept getting closer.

"Ace, you're killing me," he murmured, taking your pencil and erasing the sloppy note you had written about the Padres relief pitcher. "Let me help."

You laughed as he rewrote your note very neatly followed by what you assumed was his phone number. Oh, he was a bold one. Very handsome, very funny and very bold.

Without a word, he handed your pencil back to you. "What am I supposed to do with that?" you asked, tapping his phone number with the pencil.

His breath was warm on your cheek as he said, "Save it in your phone. Call it. Text it. Let it know when you're in San Diego. I don't know, Ace. I just like you."

Your lips parted right as the Padres catcher hit a home run, and as everyone else in the ballpark erupted in cheers or groans, Bradley pressed his lips softly to yours. And then you tossed your pencil aside and ran your hand up along his neck. His lips were soft, but damn, his mustache was rough and you liked it.

You pulled back a few inches. "And if I text you, you're going to write back?" you asked.

"Immediately," he promised.

"Well then maybe I'll save your number."

He groaned softly as you marked down the home run. "Are you covering game two on Sunday?" he asked as the ninth inning started.

"I'm covering every game," you told him, letting your hand rest on his thigh. The soft noise he made had you scraping your fingernails softly along his jeans as he watched your hand instead of the game. "I'll be back and forth between San Diego and Los Angeles for the next two weeks or so, if they go to seven games. Which, in my professional opinion, they will."

After your fingers grazed his zipper, you watched his head tip back, the veins in his neck working as he swallowed. You were pretty turned on now, too. And the way he was responding to you was making things worse by the minute.

"I'm gonna have to drop a grand on a ticket to see you back here on Sunday, aren't I?" he asked as you shrugged and ran your finger along his belt loop. Then you released him and turned back to type a few sentences for your article.

"Listen," you told him without looking at him. "There's no guarantee I'm even going to let you have my number, so I wouldn't worry about that just yet."

He was quiet for a beat as you typed away, and then he said, "How about you let me buy you a drink for real? Right after the game tonight?"

"I have a deadline to meet," you told him, and he looked disappointed as he nodded. "But my article is almost done. And my hotel is right across the street. We could go to the bar there?"

"Absolutely," he murmured, his fingers still at your back. "Anywhere you want."

As soon as the game ended with a Padres victory, you tossed your computer and notebook into your bag, and you were on your feet next to Bradley. "Let's get out of here."

You took his big hand in yours, glancing up at him occasionally as you tried to beat most of the crowd to the exit. And each time, he was looking back at you, smiling. You led him across the parking lot, and your hotel was in sight when you pushed him up against the brick wall outside of the ballpark. Bradley welcomed your body against his, and he looked at you like he couldn't believe this was happening just before you kissed him.

It was dark over here, even the streetlights were dim. His hands were on your back as your fingers tangled in his hair, and you were rubbing yourself gently against him.

"Ace," he grunted against your lips. "You gotta let me buy you that drink."

You could feel him growing harder for you as you kissed him and tasted his tongue. Suddenly the hotel bar was the farthest thing from your mind. It had been replaced by thoughts of your hotel room bed instead.

"Come on, Bradley," you whispered, linking your fingers with his and leading him further down the sidewalk. He went with you willingly, leaning down to kiss your cheek and your neck as you waited in a crowd of people for the light to change at the crosswalk.

"You smell good. Like the beer I spilled on you," he groaned, holding you close. The movement of his lips had his mustache prickling your neck. You wanted to feel it on all your sensitive skin. You wanted to see if you could make him blush in bed.

You and he stumbled across the street and into the hotel lobby where you eyed the bar as he wrapped his big hand around your waist. You looked up at him and asked, "Wanna skip the bar and go up to my room? Find out if I taste good like the beer, too?"

The sound of Bradley's groan as his hand slid down to your butt had you pressing yourself against his thigh. "Lead the way, Ace."

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

The elevator ride to the top floor was filled with the sound of kissing as well as the little gasping noises you made. Your hands were at the fly of his jeans as he pushed you back against the wall and devoured your mouth. Bradley was so hard and ready for you, he was honestly surprised. He just met you. This was not a usual occurrence for him.

"Bradley," you moaned, unbuttoning his jeans as the elevator jolted to a stop. You abandoned his jeans for his hand and pulled him down the hallway, running toward your room and laughing. You stopped in front of one of the doors and started to dig in your bag.

He stood behind you and ran his lips along your neck as you gasped for him. You were so responsive, stroking something deep down inside of Bradley every time you reacted to him. He wrapped his hands around to the front of your jeans and started to play with your button as well. When his fingers met the soft skin of your belly, your head tipped back against him.

"I can't find my room key," you moaned as he ran his hands up inside your shirt. He watched as you gripped the bag with both hands and let your eyes drift closed.

"You're not really trying very hard, Baby," he said with a smirk. He couldn't believe you right now. So pretty and so lost to his touch. He was throbbing and aching for you, too.

"Because you're teasing me!" you complained with a laugh. But then you turned in his arms, and suddenly Bradley's hands were on your bare back. Your eyes were wide, bag clutched between your body and his. "This is... not something that I usually do. Especially not when I'm on the job." Your voice was soft, and as you nervously bit your lip, Bradley leaned down to kiss your cheek.

"Same, Ace," he promised with a smirk. "In fact, I've never had a woman seduce me this quickly before. You're irresistible."

Your laughter was the best thing he had ever heard. "I thought I was the one being seduced here?"

"No," he said, reaching into your bag and plucking out the key. "You're in charge." He handed it to you, and you wrapped your fingers around the back of his neck and kissed him hard before you turned and unlocked the door with your other hand. You pulled Bradley with you as you stumbled backwards into the dark room.

As you searched blindly for the light switch, you pushed Bradley against the wall. You had your fingers in the hair at the back of his head and your tongue was in his mouth as you located the switch.

"That's better," you mumbled breathlessly as you turned on the light, and Bradley pulled away from you a few inches.

"You're fucking gorgeous," he whispered as he tightened his right arm around your waist. He wasn't being shy about how hard he was for you, and you weren't being shy either. You whimpered as you rubbed yourself gently against him, and he ran his thumb along your cheek and down to your lips. "I haven't been this turned on in so long."

Then Bradley watched you reach down and pull off your white shirt in one smooth motion, leaving you in that sinful looking blue bra before him. You were stroking him through his jeans with your right hand when you whispered, "I thought you were going to taste me, Bradley." Your eyes were wide and innocent looking as you challenged him.

He nodded slowly. "I wanna taste you everywhere." Then he scooped you up as you laughed, and he carried you to the king sized bed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "You gonna let me do that?"

"Yes," you whispered right next to his ear, and Bradley eased you down onto the bed with his body weight on top of you. As you started tugging on his Padres shirt, he managed to remove his shoes before reaching down both of your calves and yanking yours off. He tossed them blindly behind himself, wincing as he hit the wall with both of them.

But you just laughed and pulled his tee shirt up, leaving him in his white tank. You were holding his shirt in your hand as he pressed his lips to yours. "You taste so good here," he whispered, running his tongue along your bottom lip as you wrapped your leg around his hip. Then he kissed your chest before licking a stripe across the top of your lace bra as you bucked your core against him. "Fuck," he groaned. He licked and sucked on the top of your right tit. "Your skin tastes like that spilled beer. I love it on you."

"Well then, you better clean me up with your tongue, since it's your fault in the first place." You tipped your head back, and arched your back off the bed, and Bradley followed your lead, letting his big hands find the clasp of your bra. You moaned softly as he unhooked it and moved his fingers around to ease the fabric away from your body.

"God damn," he groaned before taking your nipple between his lips. Your fingers were tight in his hair as he sucked on you, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb against your other breast.

"Bradley!" you cried out when he rubbed his mustache across your nipple. He was dying to fuck you, but you were letting him tease the hell out of you, and he was loving this.

"You like that?" he asked, enjoying all the cues you were giving him. He couldn't stop grinning as you whimpered a soft little yes before pulling his undershirt off.

When you ran your fingers through his chest hair and down his abs, Bradley swallowed hard. Because you didn't stop there. You reached right for his unbuttoned jeans and eased his zipper down. He held himself over you, looking down into your needy eyes as you ran your fingers along the elastic of his underwear before delving inside. You licked your pouty lips before you wrapped your hand around his cock, and then you closed the distance up to his lips with the softest, sweetest kiss. You stroked him slowly while barely brushing your lips against his, and it was driving him absolutely insane.

"Ace," he grunted, and you squeezed your hand around his cock and giggled while he moaned for you. Then you gasped and let go of him. "What's wrong?" he asked, immediately pulling himself away from you while he panted.

Your eyes looked concerned, so he put a little more distance between your bodies. "I don't have any condoms," you whispered as you eased your hand away from him.

Bradley pressed his lips to your forehead. "I think I have one in my wallet. It's new."

"Oh," you gasped. "Should have known," you told him. "You're pretty gorgeous, too."

Bradley wanted to ease your mind, let you know that he didn't hook up with a lot of women anymore. He wanted to tell you that the condom was there for just a special occasion like this one. He wanted to explain to you that the last few he'd had in his wallet had been sacrificed to Jake when he'd been in a pinch at the bar.

But you were easing him onto his back, and he supposed it probably wouldn't make much of a difference. It wasn't like you were going to want more from him than just tonight. Besides, he hadn't had anything that wasn't casual in a very long time.

You were on top of him now, straddling his waist in your unbuttoned jeans, and you were reaching for both of his hands. And when you had your fingers laced with his and pinned his hands over his head, Bradley closed his eyes and enjoyed your touch. Your lips were soft on his face and your thumbs were stroking along his palms in a way that was not only turning him on more, but also providing him with some comfort.

When you whispered his name, he opened his eyes and he felt surprised by the realization that he only met you tonight.

"Maybe you should get that condom ready?" you asked softly, rolling your hips against Bradley's torso.

"Yeah," he grunted. And then you were easing down his body, taking his jeans and underwear with you. Bradley propped himself up on one elbow as his cock sprang free. You made eye contact with him, lips parted on a soft whimper.

"Bradley," you sighed, tugging his jeans, underwear and socks completely off.

Before you tossed everything aside, he mumbled, "Grab my wallet, Baby." Your eyes met his with so much need before you focused on taking the leather out of the pocket of his jeans, it had him reaching for you.

You shoved it into his hand before you scrambled back up his body and brushed your fingers through his hair, kissing his lips like he was every goddamn thing you wanted.

Bradley removed the condom and tossed his wallet onto the floor. Then he had you underneath him again. You still smelled like the spilled beer as he kissed his way along your chest, and you were trying to wriggle out of your jeans. "I can take care of that," he whispered, pressing the condom into your hand. Then he had every scrap of fabric removed from your body, and he didn't know if he could handle how perfect you really were. "Ace," he groaned when you eased your feet up his biceps and let your ankles rest on his shoulders.

Bradley's lips found the inside of your right thigh as if he was drawn to you like a magnet. Your eyes were half lidded, and you had one hand in his hair and one on your tits. How was he going to recover from this?

"Let me taste you," he begged, and when you nodded, his lips were on your pussy immediately. He groaned, already addicted to the way you tasted here too. He kissed along your slit and buried his nose against your clit.

"Oh!" you gasped, tightening your grip on his hair and spreading your legs wider for him. Bradley's cock was throbbing against the bedding as he slid his tongue up through your soaking wet pussy until his lips were wrapped around your clit.

"Yesss," you hissed, gently riding his face as you whispered his name. And with each stroke of his tongue, you got a little louder, your fingers pulled his hair a little more. Oh, he was so fucking turned on for you, he wasn't sure he'd last more than a minute once he had that condom on.

"Bradley!" you gasped, pressing your heel into his back while he sucked on your clit. "Put the condom on."

It took him a little bit to get his lips away from your pussy, because he really wanted to get you off with his mouth. But then he rationalized that you wanted him to get you off with his dick instead, and that sounded perfect, too.

"Okay," he panted, brushing his wet mustache against your belly as you opened the condom for him. He rolled it on and kissed your lips as he pressed himself to your core. Now you were holding him in place by his hair as you returned his kisses, softly moaning into his mouth as he pressed his tip into you. You felt warm and tight and perfect, and as you took every inch of him, he stroked his thumb along your cheek.

"Oh god," you whimpered, frantically kissing him and licking his mustache. Your voice was coming in little gasps, and he loved the sound of it.

Bradley withdrew and thrust back inside you, and you rolled your hips with his. "You gotta tell me what you like, Ace. I want to make you feel good."

He watched your eyes go a little wider before you reached for his hand. When you took his index and middle fingers between your lips and started sucking on him while he fucked you, he groaned. "Baby. God that feels fucking great. But don't make me cum yet."

With a soft whimper, you swirled your tongue along his fingers before popping them out of your mouth and guiding his hand down between your bodies to your clit. Bradley had to suck in a deep breath and think about one of his superior officers leading a boring lecture to keep himself in check. He never felt close to the edge this fast, but as he ran his wet fingers along your clit and fucked you into the bed, he knew he could cum if he let himself.

"Bradley," you whispered, and he buried his face against your neck. "Harder."

He bit his lip and fucked you harder while you whined his name, and he kept his fingers on your clit, trying to work you up. He needed to get you off. He absolutely needed to do this. Because he was hoping you'd call him or text him. He wanted you to save his number and use it. He was already dying for more.

"Ace," he groaned, pressing his lips to your neck as your fingers drifted down his shoulders to his back.

You moaned, "I like it when you call me that," so Bradley pressed the nickname against your lips with his until you were gasping and clenching around him. When you came for him, you took his fingers from your clit and laced your hand with his as his movements grew more erratic.

He was saying something as he came inside you, but he wasn't exactly sure what. And you were looking up at him with a soft, fucked out smile and pushing his hair away from his forehead with your warm hand. And then you let him collapse on top of you while he was still buried inside you, and you ran your fingers back through his hair.

Bradley settled his cheek against your chest and let himself enjoy the feel of your breathing evening out after your orgasm. You were still making soft sounds as you rubbed your calf along his leg. He could have stayed just like this all night. You felt that good.

Just as he looked up at you, about to ask if there was any way you'd want to see him again this weekend, you laughed softly.

"Wow. That was fun."

Fun. He wanted to be more than a fun time. "And good, I hope?" he asked softly.

"More than good," you whispered, laughing again. "Amazing."

Bradley smiled at you, and he knew he was blushing. "Yeah. Amazing is the right word for it."

And you were smiling so much, Bradley laughed as you tried to hide behind your hand. He leaned in and kissed your wrist. "Ace, I-"

Bradley jerked away from you as an alarm went off somewhere in the room. When you sat up, he gently eased himself out of you with a grunt.

"That's my thirty minute warning," you told him, scrambling out of bed. "I need to finish my article and submit it."

"Oh," he said, watching you bend to locate your phone. "Right."

You looked at him and licked your lips nervously as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. And then you bent to start retrieving your clothing, and Bradley's heart sank as he stood as well. Wordlessly, he went into the bathroom to take care of the condom and wash his hands, and when he came back out, you were dressed in your underwear and the white shirt he had messed up.

"I guess," he whispered, pulling on his own underwear, "I should go then."

You pressed your lips together and nodded slightly. "I guess so."

"Okay," he said, quickly getting himself dressed in everything except his Padres tee. He just held that while he looked at you. "You have my number."

"I do," you whispered.

"You can use it," he told you with a smile, and you leaned in to kiss his cheek. And then your lips were on his. And then your fingers were in his hair again.

You moaned and then pulled away from him, and Bradley forced himself to walk backwards to the door, not wanting to take his eyes off you.

"Bye, Bradley."

He didn't want to say goodbye to you, so he said, "See ya, Ace," and then he was out in the hallway with the door closing behind him.

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

Oh, Bradley! I love Ace, and I hope you do, too! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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sukirichi · 4 months ago

Text

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 019 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. angst, running away, illegal activities, theft, suggestive, unedited

notes. one more chapter before the end of dtd!! you guys, thank you so much!! ik the last chapter was kinda controversial but that was the last lore drop hehe, there will be no more backstories mentioned here. everything just goes forward from here on. as always thank you so much for the love in dtd <3

wc. 10.7k

series masterlist

[ NINETEEN ] I’ll be on a boat, you’re on a plane going somewhere sane… you were the best but you were the worst. as sick as it sounds, I loved you first

The landscape blurred past your window, a seemingly endless stretch of darkness punctuated by the occasional flash of headlights from passing cars. The night was deep, the kind that felt like it would never end. Rintaro was behind the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as he gripped the steering wheel.

He hadn’t stopped driving since you’d left the city, the tires humming smoothly beneath you as the car cut through the night. Hours had passed – you’d lost count of how many – and it felt like an eternity. His face was set in a rigid expression, his eyes shadowed by exhaustion yet still sharp, still focused. You could see the strain in the tightness of his jaw, the way his knuckles turned white with every frantic turn he made.

You shifted in your seat, stealing glances at him when you thought he wouldn’t notice.

Every so often, his eyes would flicker, a brief blink, signaling that fatigue was setting in, but he pushed on as if stopping would mean surrendering. You fought the urge to reach out, to place a hand on his arm and tell him to pull over and rest, but would he listen?

“Rin,” you tried, keeping your voice small and soft. “We should stop for the night.”

He glanced at you briefly, his lips turning down in a frown. “We can’t. They could be sending more people after us for all we know.”

“I know, but… At least me drive for now. You’ve been driving for hours. You need to rest.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “I’m fine. I can keep going.”

You leaned back against your seat, your fingers clenching the fabric of your dress as you watched the road stretch endlessly before you. The headlights illuminated the asphalt in a narrow beam, the world outside reduced to a tunnel of light and darkness.

Every bump, every curve in the road made your heart hump. The silence that filled the car was uncomfortable. The clock on the dashboard blinked in the dim light, each passing minute a reminder of how long you’d been on the run. You wanted nothing more but a small reprieve, a chance to catch your breath and get some sleep. But you couldn’t – you felt awake now more than ever, pushed with the need to watch over Rintaro, even if there was so little you could do.

The miles slipped by, and Rintaro kept pushing.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You hated seeing him like this, hated the toll it was taking on him. “Rin.” His name sounded like a plea.

Your husband sighed, knowing full well what you wanted him to do. “We don’t have anywhere else to go, Y/N. If I stop now… I don’t know what they’ll do to you.”

“You should be more worried about yourself. You have no idea what the Queen will do to you.”

“She’s not the Queen anymore, she can’t touch me,” he reminded you, “But you’ve deliberately made yourself an enemy of both the Royal Family and the Government. You’re a much bigger target for them than I am. I don’t know what they’ll do to you, but I’m not risking it to find out.”

Finally, you reached out, tugging on his sleeves as you watched the hard lines on his face soften momentarily. “Rin. Just for one night, please? You and I both need to rest.”

It didn’t take much for Rintaro to surrender. Pursing his lips, the car slowed to an eventual stop. “Fine,” he gave in, weary hands falling to his lap. “Where are we anyway?”

You looked around you, swathed in nothing but darkness and eerie silence. “I don’t know, but we should be far enough from the crash for them to locate us.”

You followed your husband as you stepped out of the car, your footsteps echoing eerily in the desolate alley. The air was thick with the scent of mold and decay, and you shivered – not from the cold but from the unsettling quiet that surrounded you both. Ahead of you stood an abandoned building, its windows shattered and walls scarred by years of neglect. The entrance was barely visible from where it stood, obscured by overgrown vines and the remnants of a rustled metal gate that hung precariously from one hinge.

You and Rintaro exchanged a brief glance, the both of you hesitant but knowing you had no other choice left. Motels and drive-in’s were out of the question. One look at your clothes and your faces, and you would be immediately reported to the officials.

With a soft push, Rintaro eased the door open, the creaking of the hinges loud in the oppressive silence. Inside, the air felt stale, heavy with the dust of forgotten years. The remnants of what seemed to be an old office greeted you – desks overturned, chairs broken, and papers scattered across the floor, yellowed with age. The only light that came from the faint glow of the city outside, seeping through the cracked windows.

As you ventured deeper into the building, your footsteps stirred up the dust, sending small clouds swirling around you. Rintaro paused, spotting a storage cabinet that had remained relatively untouched. He tugged it open, and to your surprise, inside were a few unopened water bottles, half-buried beneath old, discolored documents. He quickly grabbed them, handing one to you as you his gaze lingered on you with each long sip. The cool water was a small comfort, soothing your parched throat and calming your nerves, if only slightly.

Rintaro didn’t stop there.

He found a few tattered, discarded rags and used them to wipe down a section of the floor, pushing aside debris and layers of dust until the spot became relatively clean. You watched him work, the focused way in which he moved, touched by the determination to carve out some semblance of safety in a place that felt anything but. When he was done, he motioned for you to sit, and you lowered yourself to the floor, the coldness of the concrete seeping through your clothes.

You sat shoulder to shoulder, the weight of the world pressing down on you as you took in your surroundings.

The building was a far cry from the luxuries you were accustomed to – it was cold, dark, and filled with the fragments of a life long gone. But it was a refuge, however temporary – a place where you could finally catch your breath and gather your thoughts.

For a moment, you let yourself lean into Rintaro, drawing strength from the solidness of his presence beside you, reminding you that he was real, and he was still here. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in – how far you’d fallen, how much you’d both lost. You turned your head slightly, your eyes finding his hazel ones. In the dim light, his features softened, yet you could still see the lines of exhaustion etched on his face, the lingering shadows of fear and regret in his eyes. I’m sorry, they seemed to say, but you couldn’t quite put a finger on what he was sorry for.

Whatever choices you made had been your own. He didn’t have anything to apologize about.

He met your gaze, and you simply stared at each other. “Why did you come after me?” he spoke after a while, his voice low and softer than you’d ever heard him speak. “I never told you where I was going.”

You blinked up at him, unsure if you should tell the whole truth. There was a tinge of hope he’d failed in concealing from his eyes. The truth was that you never expected running after him would lead to this – to losing Kiyoomi, to becoming labeled as a fugitive and being forced to be in hiding. A few hours ago, you’d expected to bring Rintaro back to the Palace, and return to Kiyoomi’s arms in Belleview Manor. Had you known it’d lead to you being stuck in this dusty, abandoned place… you shook your head. No. You couldn’t think about that now. You were not going to regret running after Rintaro.

“Because,” you started, licking your lips to give them some moisture, “I was worried for you.”

“Why?”

You stared back at him, your lips settling into a frown. “What do you mean, why? Iris just got deposed, the woman you’ve thought to be your Mother was taken away by the Police, and you lost everything within the span of a few days. Of course I was worried about you.”

Rintaro’s eyes widened, like he couldn’t believe what you were saying. “You’re worried… even though I’m a nobody.”

You bumped your shoulders with his. “I told you to stop saying that already. You aren’t a nobody.”

“I’m not a Prince.”

Leaning your head against the wall, you sighed, reaching over to intertwine your hand with his. Rintaro lets you, allows you to rest your conjoined hands above his knee – your wedding rings glinting under the moonlight. “You don’t have to be one for me to care about you. I told you already, Rintaro. I liked you much better when you weren’t trying so hard to be perfect.”

A small laugh bubbled out of chest. “Do you still like me now? I don’t even know where I’m going to take you.”

“We’ll figure it out together.”

That seemed to be enough to placate him. For the next few minutes, the two of you sat like that, in silence and ruminating over everything. But the silence never lasted, just as the time kept on ticking by. Brushing his thumb over your knuckle, Rintaro sighed. “I broke your phone. We can’t possibly reach out to anyone.”

Your mind raced with possibilities, and your thoughts kept circling back to the one place the Government wouldn’t dare get near – the borders. One of your estates was near there, secluded and far from the prying eyes of the Kingdom. “Wait,” your back straightened, turning to Rintaro with hope glimmering in your eyes. “We have a private estate near the border. We don’t go there often, so there’s less security, but if we could reach it, we might be able to use one of the old smuggling routes my family used back then.”

Rintaro hummed in thought, seriously considering the idea. “About that… I’m not sure we can take the car. You used a private vehicle, but still. They could easily track it now that they’ve seen the plate.”

“Let’s steal one, then.”

“Look at you,” he smirked, making his handsome face look younger. “From Princess to a criminal in less than a day.”

You giggled, your heart racing as the plan formed in your mind. Determined, you quickly scrambled to your feet, and your heels wobbled on the dusty floor. You teetered for a moment, arms flailing around you as you almost lost your balance when Rintaro’s arms were suddenly around you, catching you before you could fall. He pulled you to his chest, the warmth of his body seeping into you. He was close enough that you could feel his heartbeat against your own, the rhythm steady and lulling you into a calmer state.

You stood like that for a few heartbeats, refusing to let the other go.

Faces inches apart, your eyes locked in a silent exchange. The intensity of everything you’d been through the past few hours lingered between you, but in that moment, it all melted away into nothingness. A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and he responded with a quiet laugh of his own, your shared amusement breaking through the tension. You both looked away, embarrassed by the sudden lightness – the moment passed, leaving behind a fleeting sense of normalcy amidst the dangers you faced.

Still holding hands, you ventured out into the dark night, your fingers intertwined as you walked through the desolate streets. The shadows stretched long, the night wrapping around you both like a shroud, but you kept moving, driven by the need to escape. The silence was punctuated only by the sound of your footsteps and the occasional distant noise, making the night feel even more ominous.

After what felt like an eternity of searching, you spotted a car – a plain, nondescript sedan, parked in the shadows at the edge of the street.

It was perfect, blending in with its surroundings and unlikely to draw any attention. Rintaro was the first to move, glancing around to ensure you were alone before gesturing at you to give him your gun. With a swift, decisive motion, he raised his hand to smash the gun against the car’s window.

“Wait! That might sound the alarm.”

Rintaro’s arm hovered over in the air. “But how else can I open it?” he gestured to the lock car, and you shrugged, his eyes flitting to your head. “Do you have pins on your hair?”

“No… Besides, do you even know how to pick a lock?”

“No…”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “Fine. Let’s smash it.”

Glancing at you one last time for approval, Rintaro smashed the car’s window. The glass shattered, the sound echoing in the empty street, and you winced.

He reached inside and unlocked the door, opening it for you before climbing in himself. You both knew hotwiring the car was beyond your skills, and for a moment, you doubted the effectiveness of your plan. Should you just abandon the car and find another solution? But then, as if by some miracle, Rintaro found a spare key tucked above the visor.

“Would you look at that,” he chuckled at the key in disbelief, “Seems like luck’s on our side tonight.”

Relief washed over you as he turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared to life. Without a word, you both settled into the car, the tension returning as you prepared to drive into the unknown.

“We do have one problem, though,” you grimaced, and Rintaro raised his brows in question. “Since your window is broken, anyone could easily see you…”

Your husband cursed under his breath.

Rintaro sped through the darkened roads, his eyes not once straying from it. The broken window made it impossible for him to relax, and every time a car passed by, he instinctively ducked lower, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. The cold wind whipped through the cabin, stinging your faces, and you could see the strain in his eyes, the exhaustion from driving for hours without rest evident.

You switched positions periodically, a silent agreement between you.

When it was your turn to drive, Rintaro leant back in his seat, closing his eyes as he tried to snatch a few moments of sleep to himself. But even in slumber, his face remained tight, worry lines etched deeply into his skin. You focused on the road, determined to give him a break – even for a little while.

The night stretched on endlessly.

Finally, as dawn began to break, the faintest light creeping over the horizon, you realized the gas gauge was running dangerously low. You gnawed at your bottom lip, knowing you couldn’t afford to be stranded. You needed to refuel, and soon.

The gas station you pulled into was small and nearly desolate, the kind that might be overlooked by passing travelers. It was still early, the world around you cloaked in the soft, dim light of dawn. The convenience store attached to the station was the only sign of life in the stillness, its neon lights flickering in the pale morning haze.

You angled your body toward Rintaro, his disheveled appearance not nearly enough to disguise the regal air that clung to him. He was a Prince, and no matter how worn down he looked, there was a certain refinement to him that was hard to hide. You reached over and ran your fingers gently through his hair, mussing it up further. He stirred awake, and blinked up at you in confusion, but you offered him a small smile, a way of reassuring him that you had a plan.

You tugged at his shirt, pulling it out from where it was tucked neatly into his pants, and then ran your hands over the fabric, wrinkling it deliberately. Slowly, you raised your hands to unbutton his shirt further, stopping when Rintaro clutched at your wrist. He was now breathing hard, his pupils dilated as he adjusted himself in his pants. “W-Wait,” he panted, his eyes blown wide. “We’re seriously doing this here? I mean, do you need me now?”

His voice was laced with shyness and disbelief. Your brows furrowed in confusion, and when it finally made sense, your mouth fell open, slapping his hands away from your wrist. “What are you thinking about?!” you lightly punched him in the chest, and Rintaro cradled his hand with a pout. “You’re so… dirty! I wasn’t even thinking of that!”

“Well, you can’t blame me!” he snapped back, the tips of his ears red all the way down to his neck. “You woke me up and pulled my shirt out of my pants, and I thought you were taking my shirt off! How was I supposed to think otherwise that you weren’t trying to sleep with me?”

“I was trying to make you look less like a Prince so you could go inside and get us what we need!” you pointed to the convenience store, and his gaze followed. The neon signs of it glared back at him, his lips forming an ‘o’ shape in realization.

“Oh,” he coughed out awkwardly, “Okay. You could’ve just said that. You didn’t need to feel me up.”

“I wasn’t feeling you up,” you glared at him, and he snorted.

“Whatever you say, Princess.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you pushed your husband out of the car, gesturing towards the convenience store as you pointed to the rack of cheap sunglasses displayed near the entrance. It was a small thing, but it might help conceal your identities for the rest of the ride. You needed to blend in, to look like you were just another pair of weary travelers on the road. He walked into the store, his posture slightly slouched, trying to appear as ordinary as possible, while you waited by the car, scanning the horizon anxiously.

The minutes stretched on, your heart thudding in your chest. Every noise, every flicker of movement in the distance set you on edge.

You couldn’t stop thinking about how this mundane act of filling up your tank felt like walking on a tightrope – one wrong step and you could be caught. But you had no choice; you had to keep going, and reach your parents’ estate before it was too late. The sun was beginning to rise, its long shadows stretching across the empty lot like an ominous reminded that you didn’t have much time left.

“I got the burner phone.” You looked up from where you spaced out, Rintaro’s body sliding into the driver’s seat next to you. He’d bought snacks, water bottles, a pair of shades and hats for the both of you. There were some chocolate bars, too, the ones he knew you liked. You raised your brow at him, but took it gratefully, unwrapping it and taking a huge bite as you dialed the number you knew by heart – your Mother’s.

“Wait,” Rintaro’s hand shot out, and you paused, your fingers hovering over the call button. “Won’t they… I mean. I think if you call them, I should head somewhere else.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Won’t they notify the Police that I’m here?”

You watched as he scratched his ear, and you shook your head, gently unwrapping his fingers around your wrist. “And give away my location? As if they’d risk that.”

His face fell. “They won’t risk your safety, but they don’t like me.”

You took one more bite of the chocolate bar, handing it to him as you angled your body towards him. Rintaro was hesitant for a moment before he started eating, his eyes momentarily closing as he savored the sweet chocolate bursting in his mouth. “They care about my safety more than they despise you, Rintaro. Besides, we’re all what the other has now. They’re going to have to deal with it.” He continued eating, glancing back at you and the chocolate bar again, before deciding you should finish it. Reaching over the backseat where he’d kept the water bottles, he handed you one, then nodded at the phone in your hand.

Three rings later, and your Mother picked up. There was a slight shuffling sound from the background, and just like that, the tears you’d been holding back felt like a dam had opened. “Mother?”

“Oh! Oh, my darling, is that you?” she cooed, and you nodded, wiping the tears away from your cheeks when you realized she couldn’t see you. “Oh God, thank the Heavens you’re safe! Where are you? Are you safe? You’re not hurt, are you?”

You sniffled, turning to Rintaro as you blinked back the tears blurring your vision. He squeezed your thigh in reassurance, giving you a small smile before he pulled out of the gas station and headed back out onto the road. “Mother, I’m fine. We were able to run away from the Palace, but we never expected we’d be pushed out so far here,” you said, watching as your surroundings shifted to grassy fields and windmills. You couldn’t name the exact town you were in now, but you should be a two day’s drive away from the City.

“Where are you? Your father and I are heading there right now.”

With one hand, Rintaro shuffled for the glove compartment. He pulled out a map, glanced at it briefly, before pointing to where you were now located. Your eyes widened once you realized how far you’d driven off too. “We’re… near the border. Rintaro and I were planning to head to one of our estates here, use the old smuggling route to leave the country. Oh, and please be careful. I’m certain the government is expecting I’d make contact with you and keep an eye on your movements.”

Your mother stuttered from the other line. “No, dear, wait. Just – leaving the country? What are you talking about?”

You bit at your lip, recalling how heavy the gun felt in your hand before you fired it. “I’m a criminal, Mother. This country is not going to accept me. They’ll put me behind bars, or worse. If they caught us and exiled us, I don’t know where they’re going to throw us away.”

“You are no criminal! I know you’re innocent!”

“Mother… I shot a police car yesterday.”

“Oh, dear,” she gasped out, and you heard her fanning herself before her breathing stabilized. “Okay, okay. We’ll meet up at the estate and then we’ll… we’ll talk when we get there, okay? Hang tight.”

“Thank you.”

“Stay safe. I mean it.” Her voice was hard, stern. You felt like a little girl all over again, getting scolded by your Mother because you weren’t careful enough and scraped your knee. But now you were older, and your wounds ran deeper than just skin-surface cuts.

“You too, Mother,” you mumbled back, heart clenching as you feared this might be the last time you’d hear her voice through the phone. “I love you.”

Rolling the windows down, you threw out the burner phone, watching as it rolled and rolled until the phone cracked into pieces. The call had been quick enough for it to be traced, but you couldn’t risk involving any more of your loved ones in this game of cat and mouse between you and the country.

You reached the estate within hours.

The quiet, secluded grounds stretched before you, and the absence of security and house staff felt almost eerie, like the calm before a storm. The air was heavy with the scent of pine and earth, a scent you’d known almost all your life. You slipped through the gates unnoticed, the estate welcoming you with an almost unnatural stillness. The moment you reached inside, Rintaro dropped onto the couch with a weary sigh, tearing into the snacks he bought from the convenience store. He tossed an arm over his face, blocking out the dim light filtering through the heavy curtains.

You watched him for a moment, your heart tugging at the sight of him – disheveled, exhausted, yet still so undeniably… him. You smiled faintly, a bittersweet affection blooming through your chest before you turned away, leaving him be.

Upstairs, the familiarity of the hallway wrapped around you like your mother’s comforting embrace. This place was used more as a summer vacation home, every corner holding memories, an echo of a life that now felt like a lifetime away. You headed straight for the bathroom, stripping off the layers of dust and grime with the hot water. The steam rose around you, blurring the mirror and softening the harsh lines that settled within your face. For a few precious moments, you let yourself believe that nothing has change – that you’re just the same girl who spent every summer running in these halls, not the fugitive ex-princess fleeing from a life that flipped upside down too fast.

When you stepped out of the shower, you moved through your old room with purpose, gathering clothes and essentials. As you fold the fabric and tuck it into your bag, your movements slowed. You glanced around, taking in every detail – the antique dressed by the window, the framed photographs on the walls, the plush armchair in the corner where you used to curl up on the book. If Rintaro hadn’t bought the beach house, you would’ve loved to build a future here with him and your kids here – if that was even possible in this lifetime.

Everything was as it was, yet it felt like you were seeing it all for the last time. The nostalgia was almost overwhelming, leaving you with a deep, aching sense of loss for the life you were leaving behind.

You found yourself standing by the window, looking out at the sprawling grounds. The morning light filtered through the trees, the butterflies dancing across the greenery. You knew every inch of this estate – the hidden paths, the quiet corners where you escaped to think, the gardens where you spent countless of tea parties with your parents. This place had been a sanctuary, a constant in a world that was forever changing. And now, you were saying goodbye to it, possibly forever.

The door creaked open behind you, and you turned to see Rintaro standing there, framed by the soft glow of the hallway light.

He looked different here, in this place that had always felt safe to you. The sharp edges of his demeanor were softened by his quick nap, his usually confident stance now sagging under the weight of everything you’d both been through. His eyes met yours, and you stood there, gazing at each other across the room.

In his tired expression, you saw a reflection of your own emotions – a mix of relief, weariness, and the burden of the knowledge you were stepping into a future that was uncertain at best. This room, this house, this life – they were all a part of a past that you couldn’t return to. And yet, as you looked at him, you realized that whatever may lie ahead, you would face it. Together. That thought brought some comfort to you, and you knew that this place, this country, as much as you loved it, was no longer where you beloned.

“Hey,” you breathed out, opening your arms wide to beckon him closer. As if pulled by an invisible string, Rintaro crossed the room in a few steps, his heat blanketing you as he stood still. His eyes were droopy and tired, the color more green than it was brown as he stared at your palm. Sighing to himself, he closed his eyes, and let his cheek fall upon the curve of your hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t look okay.”

“I’m just exhausted,” he mumbled, burying himself into the comforting warmth your skin offered. You couldn’t help but smile, your thumb brushing across his cheek and the day old stubble that was beginning to show. Rintaro peeked his eyes open, just enough to see the bags prepared on your bed. “You’ve packed up.”

You nodded, and guided him at the edge of your bed to sit down. The mattress dipped down with your weight, with Rintaro practically sinking into it. “It’s not much, but I figured I could take some of my things with me to… wherever we’ll go.”

The dim light from the bedside lamp cast soft shadows across his face, deepening the furrow in his brow and the downward tilt of his lips. He looked almost distant, lost in thoughts that you could only guess at. You could sense the hesitation in him, the sadness rolling off of him in waves. The closer you got to leaving, the more Rintaro’s resolve seemed to waver, as if the finality of your escape pulled him apart from the inside. He wasn’t just thinking about the dangers ahead; he was mourning what you both were going to lose, had already lost – the life you had together, and the love you had for him that he feared would change once you crossed that line with him. The moment was tender, raw, and it made your heart tighten in your chest. You were both so close to the edge, and yet, in that moment of quiet, the two of you felt more fragile than ever.

“It’s not too late, you know,” he began, his eyes empty as he gazed up at you. “You can still stay. You don’t have to leave.”

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “Rin. I’ve already made up my mind. Where you go, I go.”

“But you don’t have to,” he insisted, and your ears pricked at how broken he sounded in that moment – like he was desperate, and down on his knees. “It’s been proven that I really am not the King’s son. Our marriage is no longer valid since it was never a genuine royal union. You’re no longer tied to me, don’t you see? You’re free. You can do as you please,” he extended his arms to gesture around your room, “You have a whole life here. Your family, your friends, Kiyoomi. Your world is beautiful. This isn’t something you just say goodbye to.”

Pursing your lips, you reached for his hand, squeezing it in hopes you could ground him back with you. “If I can do as I please, then I choose to stay with you.”

Rintaro’s jaw clenched. “You’re going to regret it if you do. The life you’ll have with me… it won’t be a good one. You’ll be miserable, Y/N,” he sounded convinced, and he shook his head to himself, the tendrils of his bangs falling to his face. “I take back what I said earlier about Kiyoomi. You were right. He can be trusted. I’m sure if we contact him, he’ll immediately come for you—”

“And then what?” you snapped, “What do you expect to happen when he comes for me, hm? That we’ll get married, when it hasn’t even been a week since his marriage was annulled? Let’s say that happens, did you really think the Kingdom would be accepting of it? They would call me a whore, paint me like I’d only been waiting for the right opportunity so I can make him mine. They would call me heartless for abandoning you the moment I found out you weren’t a Prince.”

Rintaro pulled his hand away from you. “Is that why you’re staying, then? Because you don’t want the people to mock you?”

“I’m staying because I choose you, Rintaro. I’m staying because I don’t have anyone else, and my home was taken away from me. You’re all I have, and I’m not letting you walk away from me,” you declared, your chest heaving up and down from how hard you were breathing. There was that image again – of a handsome Prince with a kind smile, of soft curls you could run your hands into forever. An image that was slowly becoming blurred in your memory. “I lost Kiyoomi from the moment I chose to run after you, Rin. He asked me to stay. He asked me to stay behind because it was dangerous, because there might’ve been a chance that I would never return. He knew that, and maybe I knew that, but don’t you get it? I’m choosing you.”

Rintaro scoffed, standing up to his feet as he raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t want you to choose me.”

You mimicked his movements, padding your bare feet across the carpeted floor as Rintaro moved to walk out the door. “Why are you pushing me away, Rintaro? I – is everything I’ve done for you never enough?”

He groaned, the sound angry and reverberating across the empty hall. “That’s exactly why I’m telling you to not go with me! Because you’re going to regret it, and you’re going to keep looking back at what you could’ve had. You’re going to think about what you lost because you chose me. I mean, listen to what you’re saying. That’s exactly what you’re doing right now.”

What you were doing right now? You stood there, frozen, as you were faced with Rintaro’s back. “Is this… is this because I kissed Kiyoomi?”

Rintaro turned to face you, his lips pressed into a thin line as he placed his hand on his hip. He covered his lips with his fist, as if biting back the words threatening to leave his mouth. “You love him, Y/N. I’m not going to hold you back.”

A bitter laugh erupted from you. “I can’t love him, Rin. I can’t choose him. I can’t let him be stuck in one marriage to another.”

“And I don’t want you to regret me,” he bit back, pacing back and forth as his hands trembled. “I could never live with myself if you look at me one day and wonder if you made the right decision by not staying behind.”

“That won’t happen.”

“If it does?”

“It won’t.”

“Why won’t it happen?” he demanded, “Is it because you still love me?”

The words caught in your throat as you heard the unmistakable sound of a car pulling up into the driveway. Your heart skipped a beat, and you froze, listening intently. The faint clacking of your mother’s heels echoed against the pavement, followed by your father’s voice, urging her to slow down and that she might trip if she rushed any faster.

Your eyes darted back to your husband, who stood still across from you, his expression vulnerable and raw.

He had just asked you if you still loved him, and the question lingered in the air heavily. The look in his eyes was one of desperate hope, but also fear – fear that her answer, whatever it might be, would shatter him completely.

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak. The sound of your parents approaching drew closer, and you knew you had only moments before they reached the door. You wanted to say something, anything, to ease the tension, to reassure him – but the words never came.

“They’re here. You should shower and get some sleep before we leave.”

Rintaro’s eyes flickered with pain as he realized you wouldn’t answer, and you heard your heart shatter into a million pieces in the silence. The moment passed, slipping away as the door downstairs creaked open, and your mother’s hurried footsteps filled the house.

The chance to say what needed to be said was gone, leaving only the unspoken hanging in the space between you and him.

You descended the staircase, with Rintaro following behind you. The familiar creak of the wooden stairs, once comforting, now seemed like a countdown to an inevitable farewell. When you and Rintaro reached the bottom, the dam had broken. You barely had time to brace yourself before you were engulfed in your mother’s embrace. It was fierce, desperate, as if holding on to each other tighter might somehow stop time, stop you from leaving. Your mother’s body trembled against you, the sobs wracking through her with a force that made your own shake. Your father was just behind her, tears streaking his own face, though he tried to remain composed. He placed a gentle hand on his wife’s back, rubbing in slow circles as if it might calm the storm of her grief.

“Breathe, my love,” he reminded her, while your mother eagerly held on to you like you were her lifeline. “You’re going to pass out if you don’t breathe.”

Your mother sobbed harder. “No. Oh, god, my baby. It’s not too late to change your mind, you know. You can stay and we’ll figure something out. You didn’t do anything wrong, just please, please, don’t leave us.”

Your eyes stung as you held your mother, the sorrow seeping into your bones. “I can’t stay. I would just be putting you both in danger.”

Your mother’s hands gripped the back of your dress, the fabric twisting in her fists. It was as if she was trying to physically anchor you, her daughter, to this place, to this moment, to keep you from slipping away through her grasp. It didn’t matter that you were nearing your thirties now and you’d grown taller than her – you would always be your little girl. And your father, though quieter in his grief, was no less heartbroken. His gaze met yours over your mother’s shoulder, and then unspoken pain that he held in his fatherly smile made it almost impossible to leave.

“You think we care about our safety? You’re our daughter. We go wherever you are,” pulling away from you, your mother wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Your whole life, she’d always been classy and elegant, but right now, she cared less about manners as snot ran down her nose. Broken, that’s what she was.

But you couldn’t stay. Shaking your head, you planted your hands on her shoulder, giving her your brightest smile to reassure her it’d be okay – even if you didn’t quite believe it yourself. “You can’t come with us, Mother. Everything that our families built is here. Inarizaki is your home.”

“Is it a home if a father is without their child?” your father interrupted, donning just a plain shirt and slacks instead of his military uniform. He didn’t come here today as the Kingdom’s General; he was here as your father. “We can leave the country with you too. We’ll start over someplace new – like your mother said, we’ll figure something out. This can’t be how I lose my little girl.”

“Please don’t make it any harder than it has to be,” you begged, cupping your hands around your mouth to stifle the sobs. “You two are innocent. If you go with us… then they will never stop looking. We will live our lives always watching our backs, never knowing peace. You didn’t do anything wrong, Father, so you don’t have to do this.”

“I can’t,” your mother dropped to her knees, clutching your skirt as she began to stutter over her breaths. “I can’t let you go. You’re my only daughter, you can’t leave—” Behind her, Rintaro suddenly moved forward, helping your mother get back up to her knees. He whispered sweet nothing’s in her ear, calling her Ma like he always used to do. To everyone’s surprise, your mother cried harder, wrapping her arms around Rintaro’s larger frame as her tears soaked his shirt. “Please, my son. Don’t take her away from me.”

You glanced over at him, seeing the way his face fell. His presence was heavy in the room, as if unsure whether he truly belonged in this moment of familial sorrow.

“She’s made her mind, my love,” your father wiped his tears, gently prying your mother’s arms off of Rintaro. He pulled a handkerchief out from his pocket and dabbed at your mother’s ears, his touch tender as he helped her breathe. “Come on. We need to get the kids ready before we leave. We have to leave by sundown.”

Your heart swelled. This couldn’t have been easy on either of them, losing their only child as you were chased out of your country. But your father respected your decision, even if it broke your heart. You couldn’t stop yourself from crying now, jumping over to where he was, knowing he’d catch you in his arms even as he held your mother. And he did, the three of you embracing in your final moments, your cries desperate yet final.

“Thank you, Father.”

“If I really can’t stop you—” he kissed the top of your forehead before glancing at Rintaro, “—then your husband needs to promise me that he’s going to take care of you.”

At the mention of his name, Rintaro stiffened. “I promise, Sir.”

“Mark my words, boy. If you ever make my daughter cry again, I will personally drag you back here and let the officials have their way with you.”

“I won’t make her cry. I promise.”

Your father nodded, satisfied with Rintaro’s determination. He looked around, then glanced at his watch with a grim expression. “Let’s go.” Closing your eyes one last time, you buried your face in your mother’s shoulder, wishing for a moment that you could stay, that things could be different. But everyone in the room knew one thing couldn’t be changed – that you were all running out of time.

You walked between your parents, their hands clasped around yours like they had done when you were a child. Your father’s grip was firm but slightly trembling, while your mother’s touch was gentle, fingers brushing over your knuckles as if memorizing the feel of them. Every step towards the pier felt like it carried the weight of a finality that was too painful to acknowledge.

Rintaro followed behind, silently carrying the small bags you had prepared for the long journey ahead. You glanced back at him occasionally, watching the way his eyes scanned his surroundings, always alert, always protective. But when your gazes met, they would soften, quietly understanding the heaviness of the grief you carried. He’d taken on the burden of your escape so you could have these final moments with your parents, and you were grateful for his silent support.

As you approached the dock, the boat waited for you, bobbing gently on the dark waters. The sound of the waves lapping against the hull was the only noise in the quiet night, amplifying the heavy silence that hung between you. Your heart ached as you reached the edge of the dock, knowing that this was it – the moment you’d all been dreading.

The inevitable goodbye.

Your mother turned to you first, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She pulled you into a tight embrace, one that felt both desperate and full of love. Her arms wrapped around you, and you felt her heartbeat against your own, the rhythm steady but beating slow like her heart cried, too. It made reminisce of stories she used to tell you when you were little, how she’d place your cheek on her chest as a baby to help you fall asleep. You closed your eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume, wanting to remember this moment, this feeling, for as long as you could. She felt the same way, too, holding on to you for a long time the way a mother wanted to shield her daughter from the daunting future that awaited you on the other side of the water.

When you finally pulled apart, your father was there, pressing a small bag into your hands. It was heavier than you expected.

Inside were the essentials needed for survival: cash, forged documents, and a few belongings that might help you once they were out of the country. He squeezed your hand as he handed it over, the pressure his silent way of saying I love you, take care. You felt a lump rise in your throat, but you swallowed it down, not wanting to break the fragile calm you’d managed to maintain.

As you stood there, the night fully settled in all around you, you looked at your parents, trying to memorize their faces in the dim light. There was a somber understanding hanging in the air, an unspoken agreement that this might be the last time you would see each other for a long time. You could see the pain in their eyes, the fear for your safety, but also the deep, abiding love that had always been there. The universe might’ve been cruel to you, but it gave you the best and most loving parents one could ask for.

“I love you. I love you so much. You’ve been so brave, so great,” your mother hiccupped, and your father rubbed soothing circles at her back. “Promise you’ll write to me every now and then?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“You better write,” your father warned, though his smile was harmless. “Don’t make us come after you.”

“Thank you, Father,” you chuckled, staring at them one last time. You would miss it – your father’s wrinkles, your mother’s smile lines. The sound of their giggles as they danced in the halls every Wednesday night with jazz playing in the background each time they thought you’d went to bed. The smell of homemade pancakes each Saturday when your Mother asked the cooks to rest, and also because she hadn’t used the kitchen since she’d married. You’d missed everything, and it hurt so much to leave them behind. “Take care, okay? I’m going to miss you both.”

Finally, it was time.

Rintaro stepped forward, his hand resting gently on your back as he guided you toward the boat. You turned back one last time, your eyes meeting your parents’ as you stood together on the dock. Your father’s arm was around your mother, holding her close as your mother stifled her cries against his shirt. Tears slipped down your cheeks, but you quickly wiped it away, not wanting them to see you cry. You needed to be strong, for them, for yourself, for Rintaro.

As you stepped onto the boat, your mother’s voice echoed through the darkness, the words soft and filled with love. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond as the lump in your throat grew larger. You simply nodded, your hand gripping the small bag tightly as Rintaro helped you settle on the boat. It rocked gently beneath you as the boat moved, and you watched as your parents’ figures grew smaller and smaller in the distance until they were nothing but a silhouette against the night sky.

You felt the finality of it all crash over you.

You were leaving behind everything you’d ever known, walking into an uncertain future with only Rintaro beside you, and the memories of the life you used to live. You held Rintaro’s hand, your fingers gripping his as the boat sailed father away from the shore, farther away from the life you had once thought was yours to keep.

Kiyoomi’s hands gripped the steering wheel as he drove through the winding roads, his heart racing as a million thoughts raced in his head. He had been driving for hours, retracing every step you might have taken, following the last location you had given him. He could sense from the urgency in your voice that you’d expected him to come find you, and he wasn’t going to let you down now. Besides, it was supposed to be a simple meeting only – you’d promised to come back to him, to finally leave your broken marriage behind and start anew with him. But as he approached the place, a dingy nightclub that he’d never picture you being in, in a secluded area just outside the city, his heart sank.

Rintaro’s car was there, parked on the side of the road, abandoned.

The sight of it sent a jolt of panic through him. He didn’t know what was worse – your car being absent, or Rintaro’s car left behind. He pulled over and got out, the night air chilling his skin as he approached the vehicle. The closer he got, the more he noticed – his belongings were still there, and the car was empty. But there was something else, something that made his chest tighten with fear. There, on the ground, was your phone, broken and crushed like someone had stomped onto it.

His mind raced, thoughts crashing into one another. The last he’d heard of him, he disappeared around the same time as you did. But why was your phone here, and not your car? Were you with him? Had he come for you? Or worse… had he taken you away?

The idea twisted in his gut like a knife, the notion that you might have chosen Rintaro over him despite everything you’d been through. But no, he couldn’t believe it. He refused to believe it. He had been so close – he had finally broken through your walls, you had finally loved him back, and for the first time, he had you in his arms. You wouldn’t betray him. You wouldn’t. You couldn’t be so cruel.

He searched the area frantically, looking for any sign of where you might have gone. Footprints in the dirt, discarded items, anything.

But there was nothing, just the silent trees and the cold wind that seemed to mock his desperation. He called your name, hoping that you’d magically emerge from the shadows and come running into his arms, tell him that this was all a misunderstanding. He imagined you stepping out from behind the building, your face soft with regret as you reassure him you wouldn’t have gone anywhere. He would have the warmth of your body in his arms, the feel of your breath against his neck, and find comfort in your voice as you did with him. But you didn’t appear, and the only answer he received was the echo of his own voice.

You did not appear.

His voice broke as he called your name again, weaker this time, as if he already knew that there would be no response. The emptiness around him seemed to swallow the sound, leaving him alone with the echo of his own voice, a ghostly reminder of how alone he truly was.

The agony of it was unbearable, a raw, searing pain that clawed at his insides. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, each beat a painful reminder that you weren’t there. His breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as the weight of his own helplessness settled over him. You were gone, and there was nothing he could do to bring you back. The realization hit him like a physical blow, doubling him over as he clutched at his chest, trying to steady himself.

He looked around wildly, his vision blurring as tears threatened to spill over. There had to be something he was missing, something he hadn’t seen. He couldn’t accept that this was it, that you had left him with nothing, not even a trace to follow. But no matter how hard he searched, there was nothing – just the silent trees standing like sentinels around him, witnesses to his despair.

The wind picked up again, rustling the leaves in a way that sounded almost like whispering, as if the forest itself was telling him to give up, to accept that you were gone. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He dropped to his knees, fingers digging into the cold earth as if he could somehow pull you back through sheer force of will. But the ground was cold and unyielding, offering no comfort, no answers. His body shook with the effort of holding back the sobs that threatened to break free, his teeth gritted against the overwhelming grief that surged through him.

He pressed his forehead to the ground, the rough earth scraping against his skin as he tried to catch his breath. You were gone. The truth of it settled over him like a shroud, suffocating him, drowning him in a sea of despair. He wanted to scream, to rage against the cruel twist of fate that had taken her from him, but the sound caught in his throat, strangled by the overwhelming pain.

He had lost you.

And no matter how hard he searched, no matter how many times he called your name, you weren’t coming back.

Kiyoomi’s day passed by in a blur, each one more torturous than the last.

He barely slept, his mind replaying the last moments he’d shared with you, trying to find some clue, some indication that this wasn’t the end. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t focus on anything other than the gnawing fear that something terrible had happened to you. Or worse, that you really had chosen to leave him behind without a word. He’d gotten so desperate that he’d asked for the help of his brothers – Kita was to investigate on your last sightings, Tobio was to remain alert on any news regarding you and Rintaro, and Keiji had reached out to his civilian friends to report to him in case you’d decided to blend in with the common folk.

No news for the next few days, other than the national announcement that you and Rintaro were now officially missing persons. Kiyoomi quickly shut off the television after that, heading straight for his study where he spent countless nights hugging the sweater you’d left behind. Your scent was already fading, but he refused to wash it, afraid he’d completely lose the last thing he had to remind him of you.

The room was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn to block out the morning light. Papers and maps were strewn across the desk, a clear sign of his restless night. He paced the length of the room, eyes flicking toward the door every few seconds as if expecting you to miraculously walk through it. His hand clenched around his phone, staring at the screen as if willing it to show a missed call or message from you, anything to break the suffocating silence that had consumed him since you disappeared.

The door creaked open, and Kita stepped inside, his expression grave. The prince barely looked up, his focus still on the phone. Kita took a deep breath, knowing the conversation ahead would be anything but easy. “We’ve found something,” he began, his voice measured and cautious.

Kiyoomi’s head snapped up, eyes locking onto Kita’s. “What did you find?” His voice was sharp, hopeful yet angry.

Kita hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Her phone wasn’t completely broken – but it’s been off since the night she disappeared. No pings, no signals. It’s as if she doesn’t want to be found. It’s also odd that her parents stopped calling her a day after the Police tried running after them.”

The prince shook his head, denial washing over him. “That doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to be found.”

Kita nodded slowly, understanding the prince’s reluctance to accept the truth. “I considered that too, but then I found something else.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small evidence bag, inside which was a photograph of faint tire tracks leading away from the area where Rintaro’s car was found. “These tracks... they suggest a hurried departure. She left quickly. They left quickly, Kiyoomi. Some of the surviving cops stated that Rintaro was driving, and she was the one who shot at them.”

The prince’s jaw tightened, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of his desk. “It doesn’t prove anything. Maybe she was forced to leave, maybe...” His voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Kita stepped closer, lowering his voice. “There’s more. I got a message from a contact in the royal circle. There was unusual activity at her family’s estate the night she disappeared. Some neighbors reported that cars were coming in despite the place being remote for years, and...” He hesitated before continuing, knowing the next words would be the hardest to hear. “A boat was seen leaving the estate after sundown. No one questioned it because apparently, the General liked to fish whenever he was stressed out, but the General never boarded the boat.”

Kiyoomi’s face twisted with a mix of anger and pain. “What are you saying, Kita? That she’s left me? That she’s gone without a word, just... vanished? She’s not that kind of person and you know it, too.”

Kita’s eyes softened with sympathy, but he held firm. “I don’t want to believe it either, but everything points to her leaving the country. The tracks, the boat, the silence... It all fits.”

Kiyoomi’s breathing grew heavier, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to shout, to curse, to deny everything Kita was saying, but deep down, he knew it was the truth. The signs were there; he just didn’t want to see them.

He slammed his fist down on the desk, sending papers flying. “No! She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t just leave me without a word!”

Kita remained silent, allowing his brother’s anger to fill the room. He knew this wasn’t just about you leaving; it was about the betrayal, the fear that you had chosen someone else over him, that you had left him in the dark. The prince’s eyes burned with tears he refused to shed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “She loved me, Kita. She said she loved me. Why would she leave if she loved me? She… she said she didn’t care about him anymore.”

Kita took a cautious step forward. “Maybe she didn’t want to drag you into this, Kiyoomi. Maybe she thought she was protecting you.”

Kiyoomi shook his head violently, refusing to accept it. “No. She should have told me, she should have trusted me! She called out to me for help, Kita. She called me, gave me her location before I was met with radio silence. That means she wanted to be found, right? There’s no way she’d tell me where she was if she was going to run away.”

Kita sighed, his own heart heavy with the weight of the truth. “Sometimes, the people we love do things we can’t understand. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t care. It doesn’t mean she didn’t love you.”

The prince’s shoulders slumped, the weight of reality finally crashing down on him. He turned away from Kita, his gaze falling on the empty chair she used to sit in, the memories of their time together flooding his mind. The silence in the room was deafening, the truth too bitter to swallow.

Kita watched him, feeling his brother’s pain as if it were his own. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing that no words could ease the prince’s agony.

Kiyoomi didn’t respond. All he knew in that moment was that you were gone, and you hadn’t even said goodbye. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him reeling, unable to navigate his way in this sea of confusion and heartbreak. All he could do was stand there, staring at the place where you should have been.

His mind refused to accept it. His body, in defiance of reality, filled in the empty spaces with memories – illusions that brought no comfort, only pain. He swore he could still feel your touch, the delicate brush of your fingertips lingering on his face, ghostly and cold. The sensation was so vivid it sent a shiver down his spine, and his hand shot up to his cheek, desperate to hold onto the fleeting warmth that wasn’t really there.

The study was quiet, but to him, it was filled with echoes of you.

He heard your laughter, soft and melodious, reverberating through the empty room. It was the same laugh that used to light up his world, that made everything seem less daunting, less lonely. Now, it only amplified the emptiness, a cruel reminder of what he had lost. He turned his head, hoping against hope to see you standing there, your eyes sparkling with mischief, but the room was empty. The illusion shattered, leaving him hollower than before.

His knees felt weak, and he stumbled to the chair you used to sit in, clutching the armrest as if it could somehow bring you back. He could still hear your voice, teasing him gently, calling him by that name only you used, Omi, the one that made him feel human instead of royal. The sound of your voice was so real it hurt, like a knife twisting in his chest, and he pressed his hands to his ears, trying to block it out, but it was no use.

You were everywhere and nowhere all at once.

How could you leave me?

The thought crashed through his mind, a desperate plea that made his heart ache. He had been so sure, so convinced that what you had was real, that your love was strong enough to withstand anything. You had finally opened up to him, finally let him into your heart, and now... you were gone.

Was it all a lie?

The question tortured him, gnawed at his sanity. Had you ever really loved him, or was he just another pawn in whatever game you were playing?

But no... He shook his head, trying to silence the doubt, to cling to the truth he believed in. He knew you loved him. He had seen it in your eyes, felt it in your touch, tasted it in your kisses. You had given him everything, and he had given you his heart in return. You wouldn’t betray that. You couldn’t. Yet, here he was, alone, with nothing but memories and ghosts for company. He wanted to scream, to tear the room apart, to do anything to drown out the agony that was swallowing him whole. But he couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. All he could do was sit there, his body shaking, tears burning in his eyes as the full weight of your absence crushed him.

You promised me.

The words echoed in his mind, bitter and broken. You promised you wouldn’t leave him, that you would stay by his side. But now you were gone, and he didn’t even know why. The betrayal cut deep, deeper than any wound he had ever known. It wasn’t just that you had left – it was that you had left him without a word, without a trace, without a goodbye. Was he not worth even a proper farewell?

Why didn’t you say goodbye?

The question was a knife in his heart, twisting deeper with every beat. He had always imagined that if you ever had to leave, it would be with a tearful farewell, a last kiss, a promise to return. But this... this was nothing. Just emptiness, a void where you should have been, where you had always been.

The pain was unbearable, a crushing weight on his chest that made it hard to breathe, hard to think. He could feel himself unraveling, the carefully constructed walls he had built around his heart crumbling into dust. You were gone, and with you, you had taken everything that mattered, leaving him hollow, broken, and utterly alone.

Please, come back.

The thought was a whisper, a prayer to a god who wasn’t listening. He wanted to believe that you would come back, that this was all a mistake, a nightmare he would wake up from. But deep down, he knew the truth. You were gone, and you weren’t coming back.

Kiyoomi’s breath hitched, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the reality of it, but it was no use. The truth was inescapable, crushing him from all sides. You were gone, and he didn’t know if he would ever be whole again. All he had left was the echo of your voice, the ghost of your touch, and the unbearable weight of your absence.

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader angst #suna x you #rintaro x you #rintaro suna x reader #suna rintaro angst #kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x you #kiyoomi x you #kiyoomi x you angst

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ellieluvr420 · 11 months ago

Text

Friends? Never. Pt.1 (Ellie Williams x reader)

SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie had been bitter enemies for years now but before that you were best friends. You had always planned to be roommates one day but when that becomes a reality the situation isn't exactly how you both imagined it.

New fic alert? Can you tell I've got a thing for the enemies to lovers trope? Sorryyyyyy. I have loads of ideas for so many stories but this one made me too excited :D I can’t tell if the writing in this is ass but i’m just setting things up hold out hope for me people…

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Ellie opens the door of her new home only to see you, her least favourite person in Jackson, standing at her door with your suitcase in hand.

"No no no no no no no." You say as you immediately start walking away from her. You keep walking until you see Maria walking towards you.

"Don't even start-" She already knows what you're going to say.

"I am not fucking living with her Maria."

"Didn't I tell you not to start? You're wasting your breath anyway, this is the only way we can accommodate all the new arrivals."

"Why do you hate me?" You groan and she spins you around immediately marching you back to your new home.

"I don't, but you and Ellie are a pain in my ass, maybe make the most of it and try and get along hm?" She keeps you held firmly at the front door as she knocks three times.

"Back for more alrea-" Ellie pauses as she sees Maria standing there with a stern look on her face, she pushes you through the door and smiles.

"Enjoy setting up!" She calls over her shoulder and you're sure you hear her laugh.

"Fuck my life." You push past Ellie, bumping her hard enough that she stumbles slightly. You storm off upstairs to find your room huffing at your new reality.

You're unpacking all your belongings when you notice her standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. "Are you just gonna keep staring at me like a creep?"

"Are you gay?"

"Pardon?" You scoff at her bluntness but your heart was beating a mile a minute, you knew it wasn't a big deal, she's a lesbian herself, but for some reason you still found coming out to people so difficult. Your parents hadn't taken it well which is how you found yourself living on your own... well, with Ellie. You breathe in and regain your composure, turning to her and flashing a coy smirk. "Why do you want to know Williams? Got a little crush on me?"

"Ha! You wish. Just wondered seeing as you're nineteen and have never once even held a guys hand."

"Didn't realise you paid so much attention to me, should I be worried I have a stalker?" She rolls her eyes at you obviously avoiding her question. "Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't, just trying to figure out if I should be worried about you getting a crush on me and going all crazy."

You walk over to her until there's only inches between you. "You're so arrogant." You bump her in the shoulder and she stumbles as you walk past her towards the kitchen. "You're also not my type... at all." You call over her shoulder missing the look of bewilderment on her face.

"Wait... so you are?" Ellie calls as she follows you to the kitchen. She's close behind you as you march away until you stop dead in your tracks causing her to bump into you.

"If you must know Ellie, yes I am."

"Oh." Ellie felt her heart clench a little for you as she knows how unaccepting your parents are, that's why you stopped being friends all those years ago after all.

You had met Ellie on the first day she arrived in Jackson, she looked tired and a little gaunt but you still felt butterflies in your stomach when you laid eyes on her for the first time. You remember seeing her walk in and hand a gun she kept in the back of her jeans to Maria, you were gobsmacked because she looked the same age as you and you couldn't imagine holding, let alone using, a gun. You had been born in Jackson, only ever leaving to go on patrol in the last couple years so 14 year old you found the girl all the more intriguing. You had watched her from a distance as Joel spoke to your dad, you still remember the feeling of your stomach dropping when she looked up to see you spying on her. You hadn't spoken to her until later that evening when Joel and her had come to yours for dinner. It was awkward at first but when she saw your record player and limited vinyl collection, the ice thawed quickly, you became inseparable until your parents started taking an issue with your friendship with her, you never understood why they stopped you seeing her and stopped seeing Joel until two years ago when you told them you were a lesbian. Ellie had always known that they were homophobic but it still hurt when they stopped you seeing her, she saw red any time she was near you because she was so hurt that you could cut her out of your life just like that and within a couple months you were bitter rivals that couldn't share a nice word with the other. Her hatred for you was so overwhelming that it forced her to stop being so awkward around people because she was so focused on throwing as many insults your way as possible that her nerves when speaking to others dissipated.

Now, as you stand in the kitchen staring at her leaning on the doorframe you felt a pang of guilt for how you had treated her although it quickly disappeared the second she opened her beautiful mouth.

"Well er... you're not my type either so don't get any ideas." You laugh at the awkwardness of her statement knowing why she suddenly lost confidence in herself.

"Thanks for the clarification." You roll your eyes before busying yourself getting a glass of water, it was the middle of summer so all the moving and unpacking was making you feel severely dehydrated. Ellie watched as you gulped down the water, noting how a couple drops fall down onto your white tank top. She dragged her eyes away from you and cleared her throat.

"Well now we've established the feelings mutual we can go back to never speaking again. Or are you going to bother me constantly with small talk?"

"Oh believe me you have nothing to worry about on my end." You refill the glass again and walk over to her. "And if I'm remembering correctly you're the one that came and spoke to me, so I could ask you the same thing, no?" You jab a finger into her chest as you speak emphasising your point. "Now if you'll excuse me I need to go wash this finger of your germs and finish unpacking." You push past her once again and she scoffs as you walk away back upstairs without looking back at her.

You continue unpacking methodically until everything is put away neatly and your decorations are in their new designated homes. As you collapse onto the bed picking up the book you were reading at the moment from your bedside table you breathe a sigh of relief at the breeze making its way through your open window. Your shared cabin was right on the outskirts of Jackson so your view was the beautiful woods that lined the north west section of the wall, as you looked at the greenery that was reflecting glittering spots of sunlight you reminisced on the times you and Ellie had spent in the woods when you were friends. You're interrupted from your thoughts by the growling of your stomach that prompts you to sneak back to the kitchen.

"Fuck's sake." You mutter under your breath as you walk into the kitchen only to be greeted by Ellie leaning on the counter savaging a bowl of cereal.

"You know you're spilling more of that down your shirt than you're getting in your mouth right?" Ellie looks down at her t-shirt only to see that you were correct when you said she was spilling milk down herself, she huffs and continues eating, this time being more careful as she brings the bowl right to her mouth.

"I thought I made it clear I didn't want to talk to you and yet... here you are talking to me." She mumbles through a mouthful of cereal. You roll your eyes and open the fridge only to see the leftovers you had put in there earlier were gone. You take a deep breath before spinning to give Ellie the dirtiest of looks.

"Are you fucking kidding me? That's the only food I had until I go out tomorrow. Why would you eat it?"

"Oh was that yours? My bad I got hungry earlier, it was really good though you gotta make me some more of that sometime." She smiles sweetly and your face twists into a scowl as you feel the rage boiling inside of you.

"Only we live here Ellie, if you're going to steal my food you could at least own it." You walk away and just before you leave the kitchen empty handed you turn back slightly. "Pussy." You go to walk away until you feel a hand enclose around your arm yanking you backwards. She pushes you up against the wall and leans her body weight on you so you can't move, relishing in your struggle.

"Say that again bitch, I dare you." Her eyes are dark and cold only mirroring yours, a devilish grin appears on your face as you lean in closer to her.

"You're a pussy Williams... and you don't scare me." You push her off with all your strength and rush away from her before slamming your door so hard you're shocked it doesn't come off the hinges. You pace around your room muttering and cursing Ellie before you stop, realising you actually have to live with her for the foreseeable future, every time you looked at her all you could think of is the screaming matches you endured with your parents when they banned you from seeing her and the look of defeat on her face as you ignored her for the first time when she came over to you while you were out with your parents, the nausea you were feeling only grew as the memory of when you came out to your parents flashes through your mind as it does multiple times throughout the day. You grab your book and begin reading once again trying to rid yourself of all these memories that Ellie was bringing up. As you finally feel the nausea calming there are three forceful knocks on your door that you ignore reflexively.

"You gonna open the door or what?" Ellie's voice is muffled but clear enough to make out what she's saying.

"No. Fuck off Ellie!" Ellie rolls her eyes before knocking harder this time and she doesn't stop, she continuously bangs on your door until you throw your book down in frustration to storm over to the source of your irritation. As you yank the door open you're greeted by a smirking Ellie. "WHAT? What could you possibly want? You eat my food, you piss me off, you pin me against a fucking wall, what do you want now Ellie?"

Ellie is taken aback by your harsh tone, typically it had a hint of playfulness to it but now you just sounded angry. She gulped before regaining her standoffish demeanour. "Calm down sweetie."

You scoff and go to slam the door in her face but her hand stops you and pushes the door back so hard you stumble backwards with it, you huff and walk away dropping down onto your bed once again.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure whatever. You're gonna do what you want anyway." She stuffs her hands into her front pockets and walks in as she looks at all the decorations in your room before plopping down on your bed sitting directly on your feet. You snatch them away with a huff as you grit your teeth and curl up to put as much distance between you two.

"What... do you want Williams?"

"Nothing really. Just wanted to see your room. It's very... you."

"Mm and I'm sure yours looks like a squatters pit." You smile smugly at her as she rolls her eyes, your face drops as she turns and eyes the book on your bedside table with a smirk.

"You read romance?" She stifles a laugh poorly.

"Yes and what? Can you even read?" She chuckles and you mumble under your breath "idiot"

"Wow you really are a virgin aren't you?" You eyes flash up at her as your eyebrows knit together and your face turns to a grimace.

"Why do you assume I'm a virgin because I read romance? Maybe I just enjoy it."

"Ha! Right. I'm assuming you're a virgin because only virgins read romance books." You kick at her and she grabs your sock-covered foot stopping you in your tracks.

"Oh my god Ellie can you go away!"

"No no, not just yet. My curiosity is piqued about this book now." Before you can stop her she's reaching for the book and standing up while flicking through some pages.

"Wait, No Ellie don't." She holds it above your head as you stand, you try and snatch it from her once but it's too far out of your reach, panic takes over as she opens it above her head and begins reading aloud. "Ellie fucking stop!"

"Why? It's just a romance book right? Nothing too... inappropriate." Your cheeks heat and the familiar rage comes back in full force, you look down at her feet and stomp on the left one as hard as you can, she yelps and drops her arms which allows you to grab the book from her grasp and you immediately rush out of your room and into the bathroom, locking the door behind you with a triumphant smile.

"Ow you bitch!" You hear Ellie call after you. As you eye the bathtub you decide now is the perfect time to relax in the tub so you can escape Ellie for awhile and read your book in peace.

You stay in the bath until the sun has completely set and the room is bathed in a silvery glow from the moonlight, you guess you were in there for at least an hour but as you start to shiver from the cooling water you decide to finally leave your refuge. As you climb out of the bath you're horrified when you realise your towel is still in your room.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You had to walk past Ellie's room to get to yours but ultimately you decide you'd have to risk it, you unlock the door and peak out into the hallway to see its empty, you edge the door open and begin quickly creeping to your room, you're almost there but as you go to walk past Ellie's room she walks out at the exact same time walking straight into your naked form.

"AGH OH MY GOD!" Your hands immediately attempt to cover your dignity but its an almost failed attempt as you notice her looking you up and down. "DON'T FUCKING LOOK!" You scream as you run past her to your room so quickly your feet slip a little. You hear her cackling in the hallway as you lean with your back against the door in utter disbelief. "No no noooo that did not just happen." You mumble to yourself as you run a hand over your face.

You try to put the embarrassment past you as you settle into bed before passing out from the sheer exhaustion of the day.

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