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occamstfs · 2 days 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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imtherain · 17 days ago

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He Brings Me Flowers: (Sex Pollen/Logan) Part One

Hey hey heyo

I'm only a few days late and this is only half the fic, but I promised I'd publish this sooner, so I broke it in half. I'll probably post a full version too at some point.

Warnings: Sex Pollen, some fighting, plants!, surprise lesbians, newly married Jean/Scott, reader is in 1rst person because I write better that way usually, a lot of internal talking, negative self image, kinda of a cliff hanger, no sex specifically but people get a bit frisky.

I promise I'm trying to finish the rest, but my brain cells are tired

Word Count (I shouldn't tell you): just shy of 10k for this one

tagging @gothamnighthawk because I took a screenshot (promptly forgot which thing she wanted tagged in and took the last 20 minutes verifying I had the right fic)

[Masterlist]

[Logan List]

Here we go!

It all started with what sounded like a basic mission, recon only, investigating a base that had been found in a dense forest a few miles outside of a small town I’d never heard of, just across the Canadian border. The rumor was that the base was working on creating new biological weapons, but when I landed the jet, all we’d really found was a sudden, inexplicable, field of flowers.

Honestly, the place was extraordinarily beautiful, like stepping into a whole different world. The field was entirely surrounded by trees, sentinels against the outside world, holding the flower field in its arms like it was afraid they would escape. Perhaps that should have been warning enough… something too pretty in a place it shouldn’t be.

No one seemed to have any issues as we approached. And there were a lot of us, considering it was a simple recon mission, but it was a chance to stretch everyone’s legs, so basically anyone who wanted to come along had been allowed to join.

Jean and Scott hadn’t been on a mission at all since their honeymoon, so they signed up. Rogue had been asking to go on a mission for months now, and Ororo only let her because she tagged along to keep an eye on the younger woman. And then there was Logan, who just seemed to be the default on every mission. I heard Scott joke once that they needed to bring him to ‘take the dog for a walk so he didn’t chew up anyone’s shoes’.

Oh, and of course, there was me.

I really enjoyed going on missions, but mostly because I really enjoyed flying the jet. It not only was a blast, but it made me feel useful, which was nice, because my mutations didn’t really seem all that great compared to everyone else’s. All I could do was freeze someone in time for a bit, which sounds far cooler than it is, and there weren’t exactly a lot of cases for that being particularly useful. I’d only really ever used it to hold someone until someone more important than me could come get them. And even that was rare.

At the end of the day I was just really fancy handcuffs.

Logan and Scott were bickering while we made our way through the flowers. In patches the petals were yellows, some as big as the mammoth sunflowers my aunt used to grow, and some smaller petalled ones that looked like black-eyed-Susans. Another patch was all creamy whites, three or four different petal groupings. One patch was pale orange, another, brilliant reds. Some looked familiar and some were totally alien to me. It was almost as though every flower someone could think of was here in the field around us.

Jean and Rouge were walking behind the boys, trying to deescalate, and Ororo was right behind them. She seemed just as interested in the flowers as I was.

“Wouldn’t be a mission without those two fighting, would it?” Ororo’s voice came from beside me suddenly. I nodded.

“I swear, I don’t even hear it anymore, it’s just like how I got used to the train whistle when I lived near a crossing,” We laughed.

“Do these flowers seem off to you?” Ororo asked carefully. It was almost as though she was trying to check to see if she was hallucinating or not.

“I was wondering how they got so many varieties to bloom all at once,” I agreed. “Because back that way I saw a whole bunch of flowers that shouldn’t be blooming this time of year, right next to ones that shouldn’t be growing this far north at all,”

“Maybe they have something to do with the intel we received,” Ororo said.

“What are you ladies talking about back here,” Logan’s voice drew both of our attention away from the patch of warm golden flowers we’d been admiring.

“Do these flowers seem weird to you?” I asked him. Logan’s eyes traced my face quickly before he glanced across the field. Ororo smirked at me but I ignored her.

“Not really,” He shrugged. “It all smells the same,”

“What does it smell like?” Ororo asked, obviously hoping for some sort of insight.

“Flowers,” He said unhelpfully. Ororo rolled her eyes at him and went to catch up with the others. Leaving me alone with Logan.

Who was staring at me.

“What? Is there something on me?” I asked, alarmed. With this many flowers around, it wouldn’t be a surprise for there to be all kinds of bees. I wasn’t allergic that I knew of, but I also didn’t really want to find out otherwise.

“Nothing,” Logan shook his head. “Just thinking about how it’s been a while since I’ve seen you out on a mission,”

“I literally fly you to every mission,” I rolled my eyes at him and started walking again. I didn’t want to get too far behind everyone else. Not to mention, being alone with Logan had the bad habit of making me daydream about him falling hopelessly in love with me one day.

Which I knew for a fact, was delusional at best.

“Well yeah, but you usually wait in the jet,” Logan pressed. “It’s nice to see you out,”

“Just another person for you to show off for, huh?” I smirked, thinking I caught him.

“Nah,” He disagreed. “I don’t show off for those losers,” He nodded towards the group ahead of us with no malice in his tone. “I only show off for pretty girls like you,”

I scoffed.

“Laying it on pretty thick today,” I rolled my eyes at him even though my cheeks were red. Logan chuckled and I hated that I had the feeling he knew exactly how warm his compliment had made my chest.

But I also really wished he wouldn’t tease me so much. I knew he wouldn’t want someone like me and that he only did it to make my blush and nothing more. We were coworkers, neighbors kind of since we both lived in the adult dorms, and sometimes I’d even dare to say we were friends. But anything other than that? There was no way. He only called me pretty as a favor, a harmless tease, the way I told every cat I saw that he was handsome. And I mean, every cat is handsome, so maybe that isn’t the right comparison.

All I knew was that Logan wouldn’t want to fall in love with me. No one ever did.

I had convinced myself I was just fine with that. Just like every other boy I’d ever gotten feelings for. I was a friend at best, never a girlfriend, never even someone to fuck. I’d made my peace with that as a young woman who found herself surrounded by doors that stayed shut, stayed locked, stayed with their flashing signs that read “Love Inside: No Admittance.”

We came upon the building not long after. It looked remarkably like an office building of some sort, but it was only one story tall and sprawling. Logan, as always, led the charge inside, checking corners and doorways as we made our way through the surprisingly unlocked front doors. I stayed with Ororo and Rouge who were both better in hand to hand situations than I was, even though I had gotten pretty good at sparring. Mostly that was thanks to Logan who taught me how to kick someone’s ass without worrying about hurting them, as that had always been an issue I had sparring with the other women.

I was simply… bigger than them. Both taller and thicker. Hell, I knew for a fact you could add Ororo and Jean together and I’d still have about 30 pounds on them. Not to mention the time I’d given Ororo a black eye when she had finally convinced me to spar with her, and that was the same day I’d knocked the wind out of her when I wasn’t even trying to.

Clumsy at best, uncoordinated. Not really useful for much of anything when you can’t even control your limbs correctly. Why would they bother to bring you on missions if you couldn’t fly the jet?

We didn’t see much of anything on the first level of the building. A few cameras mounted high on the wall, but they were all busted and clearly not functional. Empty offices with dusty shelves and overturned chairs. A pile of metal folding chairs collapsed near the front doors.

One room was full of empty flower pots, which was strange but harmless. Honestly, it looked as though no one had even set foot in the place in several years.

The lower level showed signs of life, but not signs of weapons being made.

The level appeared to have been mostly conference rooms originally, large glass windows looking into square spaces from a nondescript hallway. The first one was mostly empty, the only thing left was another stack of those uncomfortable metal chairs pushed against a wall. A large, dark stain, bloomed in the middle of the carpet. It smelled like mold and must.

Most of the other rooms were filled, or at least partially filled, with vines. The whole level smelled thick and cloying like a greenhouse with all the fans off. No airflow. All green air and black earth.

“Never seen anything like this before,” Jean mused.

“What, you never saw Little Shop of Horrors?” Logan asked.

“Let’s hope this is nothing like that,” Scott slid himself into the conversation, as he always did when Logan talked to Jean.

“Nothing seems to be moving,” I added. “But everything seems to be alive,”

“Unsettling,” Rouge shivered at the thought. “And weren’t there supposed to be people here?”

“Oh god, I hope they aren’t in there with all those vines,” I felt my throat constrict at the thought.

“I don’t really want those nightmares,” Scott agreed.

“I don’t sense anything with a heartbeat,” Jean soothed our worries, but seemed a bit nervous about whatever it was she did sense. “Not here anyway,”

“Are you sensing something somewhere else?” Scott paused in front of her, his hands going to her arms to sooth her. They were sweet, Scott always coming to Jean’s aid, trying to make things ok for her in every way he possibly could. I often wondered if I’d like to be taken care of like that, but I figured it would make me feel like a child, and I hated being treated like a child.

Jean said something back to Scott and he smiled at her softly.

After a while, watching them just sort of hurt my teeth.

I paused at a desk that was half covered with the greenery spilling out of the room next to it. It almost looked like the vines had either pushed the desk out of their way, or were trying to pull it back in. And these vines seemed to be leafier. Broad expanses begging to get sunlight. I wondered who would be cruel enough to grow plants like that in the dark. Or rather mostly dark, as there were a few fluorescent lights still doing their best.

Under the reaching leaves, I found some papers. Most were water damaged and useless, but one appeared to be an old magazine clipping of a man smiling at the camera, a greenhouse in the background. The way the picture had been torn from the magazine had removed the top half of the man’s head, but you could still make out the smile, still see the teeth.

There was a boy next to the man, but the boy wasn’t smiling. He was holding a potted plant to his chest, as if hoping he could hide behind the many different flower heads all coming out of it. He wore a black jacket that seemed all the more dark next to the taller man’s white lab coat.

“I found a picture,” I said, just loud enough that the others could hear. “Not sure it means anything,”

“Let me see it,” Ororo came and took it from me. “Hmm, don’t those look kind of like the field outside?” Scott took the old clipping from her next.

“Yeah, seems close enough to be related. Think the boy or the dad is behind all this then?” Scott asked. He flipped the image over and part of the article was visible, but he didn’t bother sharing it with the class.

“That’s an old magazine,” Logan said, not needing to look too close. “I’d wager the son,”

“Ok, but either way, why would they be making weapons out here if they were plant people?” I asked. “I haven’t seen anything to suggest a weapon is even being made here.”

“There’s someone coming, hide,” Jean said suddenly. Everyone moved without questioning her.

Ororo pulled Rouge under the desk I’d been searching, the vines hanging down enough to shield them. Jean and Scott moved to slide into the nearest-to-them conference room, barely squeezing in amongst the plant life there.

I looked around, panic in my chest as I realized I didn’t have anywhere to go. The conference room to my direct left had vines pushing their way out the door. The desk was already hiding two people. I couldn’t help but freeze as I realized there was nowhere for me to hide and I was too big to just slide in somewhere. I’d get caught and blow the whole mission.

Logan caught my eye and came running towards me, which honestly, didn’t help my panic. I opened my mouth to tell him to hide himself, but he was faster than me, covering my mouth with his hand. His other arm came around my middle, holding me flush with his chest, effectively stilling us both and preventing me from making any noise.

I tried to wiggle away from him, confused as to how us standing still was going to prevent us getting caught. Logan just shushed me, and held me tighter as he listened for the threat I was sure he’d be able to hear even though I couldn’t.

Heat bloomed in my cheeks at the nearness of him. He smelled like leather and his last cigar and whatever it was he put in his hair. I heard him sniffing, trying to figure out where exactly the threat was, and probably what it was.

“Come on,” Logan’s voice was low and directly against the shell of my ear and it made me shiver. He took my hand and pulled me with him, back the way we’d come, but only into the previous section hallway so that we could hide behind the open fire doors. One side was off its hinges, leaning heavily against the wall, the other side was only partly open, making a nook between the metal and the wall behind it.

Logan pushed me into the space first so that he was on the outside should anyone or anything come for us. Always the ‘walk on the road side of the sidewalk’ type.

“I could just freeze them maybe,” I offered in a hoarse whisper.

“We don’t know who they are or what they can do,” Logan’s whisper was harsher than mine. “Best let me handle it,”

Normally, I would have sassed him, but my heart was in my throat as if this was the worst possible game of hide-and-seek. Which, it kind of was.

There was a loud banging and the sound of someone cursing at themselves. I could almost make out their muttering as they made their way down the hall to where the others were hiding. I couldn’t see much through the opening at the hinges, but I could see the edge of the room filled with vines and make out the corner of the desk.

“Hmm, didn’t think you’d make so many leaves down here… brave girl,” A male voice praised one of the vines. I could just barely make out the reflection of his back on the glass window of one of the nearer conference rooms. He wore a white lab coat that was clearly dirty at the bottom like some mad scientist. Working with plants was dirty work, so I guess the look was warranted at least.

The man turned and began walking our way again. I felt Logan’s hand press itself against the soft part of my hip as he reached blindly behind himself to find me. He wanted to know where I was so that if and when this went sideways, he could step in front of me. I knew how he was, always a protector, and me always needing protecting. That was part of why I often stayed in the jet on missions. I didn’t want to get in his, or anyone else’s, way.

I turned to look up at Logan, listening to the mad scientist muttering to himself as he checked another section of vines. I hoped Logan could read my face as I tried to tell him not to worry about me. Logan held my eyes and I gripped onto his arm as the muttering got closer. I watched in fascination as Logan raised his free hand and his claws came out, slowly enough that they hardly made any noise at all. He looked back out the open side of our hiding spot.

I tugged on his sleeve, trying to draw him closer to me, farther from where the door wouldn’t cover him well enough. He cast me a glare that normally would have had me shrinking away from him, but as much as he wanted to protect me, I needed to protect him too. I shook my head at him, begging him to stay put. Begging him with my eyes, please, for once, just stay still.

The muttering suddenly stopped and I held my breath. Just as Logan made to move, I touched the back of my hand to his cheek and he froze, my powers temporarily holding him out of time.

I felt bad for having done it to him as I knew it wasn’t a fun experience. While it did not have any lasting effects physically, the entire time you were frozen, you could not breathe (not that you needed to), you could not move, you could not do anything but perceive the world around you. The longest I’d ever held anyone was just shy of 47 minutes. And I hated that someone had had to experience it for that long just to prove something to Charles, who had requested such a test.

It had been one of the scientists that Charles had hired on as an intern at the time, a young man who’s name I didn’t remember. I did, however, remember how he told me it was fine, that he could take it. We even did a short session first, just a few minutes. Then he wanted to see just how long I could hold him for. Everyone else involved was so fascinated the whole time, even the scientist who had had to suffer for me to learn about myself. To learn how hard it got to hold someone like that. How I felt them struggle against my teeth.

And the scientists had learned that my powers simply paused the existence of someone, and then when I let them go, they were fine as though no time had passed. Their bodies, perfectly fine.

The mad scientist went on his way down the hall. Muttering about fertilizer and wondering where he’d left his coffee. His lab coat fluttering behind him as he went.

Once I could no longer hear him, I touched Logan’s cheek again and released him from my hold. It was easier to let someone go if I touched them again, but it wasn’t really necessary. My hold would wear out eventually, and Logan was always quicker to flee my hold than most. I figured it was because he struggled more than others.

He took a deep breath, grumbling a bit as he adjusted to having control of his limbs back, and glared at me.

“What the fuck was that for?” He demanded.

“I didn’t want you to hop out and start clawing people without knowing what’s going on,” I snapped back. “And I could tell you were about a half a second away from doing just that,”

Logan glared at me some more, but then shook his head, not wanting to admit I was right.

“Let’s go get the others,” He said, taking my wrist and pulling me back into the hallway. I pulled my arm from him, rubbing the warm spot he left behind. Without the threat of being caught, him touching me at all seemed really uncalled for. Entirely inappropriate.

And something I knew I’d commit to memory for the next time I wondered what human connection felt like on a physical level.

But whatever, he shouldn’t be touching me… but since it was for extenuating circumstances, I supposed I could let it go for now.

“Thank goodness you two are alright,” Rouge’s accent always got stronger when she was worried. “Did you see where he went?”

“He was headed for the stairs we took to get down here,” Logan told her. He was hovering near me, and I wondered why I had the feeling he had something he wanted to say to me. But when I looked up at him, question marks in my eyes, he looked away.

He didn’t normally look away from me, and it stung. But now wasn’t really the time to be That Girl about it. If he was going to be mad at me, I could apologize again later and he’d forgive me. He always did.

“Well I say we go thata way,” Scott deadpanned, though he clearly said it like that to get a reaction. He was pointing in the opposite direction of the mad scientist.

“I hate to agree with Cyclops, but,” Logan chimed in.

“He’s right,” Ororo said, brushing a wayward bit of plant matter off Rouge’s back. “And we should hurry to find our information before that man comes back this way,”

We moved faster now, not stopping until we found what was clearly the only office still being used as such. There were about fifteen different computer monitors stacked up on each other. Some were the big old CRT monitors, flickering dully with lists of data. Most were newer models, LCD screens or what seemed to be old flat screen TVs. Some were bolted to the wall.

Ororo and Rouge went to investigate the computer screens closer, reading the data and trying to figure out what he was doing. Jean joined them after a moment of whispering with Scott. Part of me always felt like she was up to something when she did that, but Logan told me he could always hear what sappy shit they were saying and that I wasn’t missing anything.

I had told Logan once that if he ever saw me get like that about a man he should just kill me. Logan had laughed, and promised me he would.

“Well, looks like we’re dealing with the son,” Logan said. He had gone to dig through a pile of papers and manilla folders. He held out a newspaper and I took it, reading the headline.

“‘Henry Mitchelle, Father of Renowned Botanist Prodigy Malachi Mitchelle, dead at 52. Cause Still a Mystery’.” I said aloud. I skimmed the article. “Sounds like daddy dearest’s greatest accomplishment was having his son. And this says the police should blame Malachi for the death, since Henry had been of solid health until suddenly he, well, wasn’t.”

“He had heart failure, which had nothing to do with me.” A new voice said from the door that none of us had thought to watch. Everyone turned to him, ready to fight. He held up his hands as if he were surrendering.

“That why you started making weapons?” Logan asked. He was the only one that didn’t look like he was ready to fight, but I knew he was likely to be the first one to get in front of whatever Malachi would surely throw at us.

Malachi scoffed loudly. He was probably 35 or so, his hair needed a brush and probably a good scrub. There were soil smudges on his cheek, his forehead, and on every article of clothing he wore. His hair was mousy brown and his eyes were a terrifyingly bright shade of green.

“You think I make weapons?” Malachi sounded like we had just accused him of trying to water a fake plant. “The reason I’m out here in the middle of nowhere is so that everyone and their uncle will stop asking me to make them weapons. I suppose that’s why you’re here, you all look official.” His tone conveyed his annoyance with the idea of “official” anything.

“We’re not government,” Scott offered. Malachi stepped into the room and took the newspaper out of my hand. He ignored Scott entirely.

“My dad always told me that I was so gifted, that I could change the world. But he also wanted the money, so he sold me off to whoever wanted my plants for the highest price.”

“I’m sorry he was like that,” I said, empathetic. I knew far too many people, fathers or otherwise, that likely would have done the same. “You deserved better,”

“I actually had ‘better’ too, my mother.” Malachi’s face softened with the memory of her. “But she passed as well, someone told me once it was careless to have lost both parents,”

“Are the flowers for your mother?” Ororo’s voice came from behind me. Malachi’s neon eyes turned to her.

“Originally, yes, and she loved them. I call them Feel Good Flowers because they helped the body release happy chemicals,” He smiled so softly at the memory. I wondered how this man could be dangerous. He mostly seemed to be sad, but content enough to keep living.

“I take it dad wasn’t thrilled with your Happy Flowers,” Scott said. He was standing in front of Jean and Rouge, who were both still trying to investigate while we held Malachi’s attention.

“They were deemed ‘inefficient, ineffective, and useless’ so… no, my father wasn’t exactly proud of them. Couldn’t make him money, couldn’t bring back the dead,”

“Sounds like a jerk,” Scott’s attempt to hold Malachi’s attention was weak, but worked well enough.

“It was a blessing when he died,” Malachi agreed. “Even if they tried to blame me for it,”

“Nice sob story, bub,” Logan said, obviously bored with this conversation. “So what are you doing out here then?” I felt my gut twist with the way Malachi’s eyes turned to Logan. Logan clearly felt the shift too because he was suddenly a lot less nonchalant about this whole thing.

“Trying to be left alone,” Malachi’s voice grew echoey as he snarled the words.

“We were told there were weapons being made here, that’s why we’re here…” Ororo tried to cut in. Normally, her voice was soothing and cut the tension. I’d seen her talk down several potentially dangerous mutants before, which was also why she made an incredible vice principal at the school.

But this time she’d picked an unfortunate choice of words.

Malachi’s eyes were fully glowing suddenly, just like he was a halloween decoration with those stupid LED eyeballs. A loud crash came from behind us and the wall broke in, vines shooting through.

A flash of Cyclop’s eye bolts cut through most of them. Another crash and this time, the ceiling came down under the weight of thick plant life. There was shouting and I reached forward, trying to grab Malachi. I figured I could freeze him and it would hopefully stop the vines.

But Logan was closer, and saw my play, so he stepped between us, swinging claws at the scientist’s face.

“Cut the crap, asshole,” Logan snarled as Malachi dodged him. “We were playing nice,”

“You came in here to disturb me,” Malachi moved away from Logan easily as vines tangled his legs. Logan fell to the ground with a grunt, but was able to slice the vines off in one easy swing.

“If you’re out here killing people with plants, yeah!” I shouted after him. I was out in the hallway now, both trying to be out of the way, and block Malachi from escaping towards the stairs. Malachi laughed.

“The only people my plants have killed are the ones who came in here looking for weapons,” His face, which had been so normal before, was now a twisted snarl. “Care to be next?” The skin of his lips, and the waterline around his eyes, both seemed to have darkened to a deep green. His eyes still glowed that eerie LED green that was unsettlingly fake, but only because I knew he wasn’t made of plastic.

“How about we don’t kill anyone?” I offered. I eyed the vines that were now crawling on the floor towards me. They curled up on themselves when they got cut down the line. I saw Logan move away from the spot the vines ended, chasing after Malachi.

“Y/N, take Storm and Rouge back to the jet, we’ll handle him,” Jean said, pushing Rouge in my direction.

“What? We can help!” Rouge snapped.

“We can cover that end of the building while Logan deals with Malachi,” Ororo’s soothing voice came out again and Rouge bristled at it. But also, Ororo had a point. Plus, I could work on getting the jet ready to go, and it would keep Rouge, who was still not really an official XMan, out of harm's way.

“I’ll keep the seats warm,” I relented easily enough, even though the roar I heard down the hall made my anxiety spike. Logan was fighting hard, and the building shook every time he took a hit. “Y’all best go get Logan in check before they collapse the whole building,” Another crash and Jean winced, knowing it was just a matter of time before I was right.

“We’ll go get him,” One could never see Scott’s eyes, but you could sure hear how hard he rolled them whenever Logan was up to his…shenanigans.

I grabbed Rouge’s arm and turned her towards the exit, cutting her off in the middle of arguing with Ororo about how the fight was being broken up.

“Trust me, no one’s going to get to fight much, you aren’t missing anything,” I told her. She brushed me off with a huff.

“I know, but I hate feeling like I’m being sidelined just because I’m a newbie,”

“I’ve been doing this for ages, and I get sidelined more often than not,” I said, a poor attempt to sooth her ruffled feathers. “There are worse things than being needed elsewhere,”

Rouge groaned because she knew I was right.

We made pretty good time getting back to the first floor. As soon as we saw natural light again, we all sort of sighed in relief. I think we were all a bit nervous about getting buried alive and didn’t want to admit it.

The floor behind us shook as vines shot up through it, a wave in the ocean of speckled beige. When they receded Logan’s body was lying face up and groaning on the old tiles.

“You know what? Fuck this guy,” Logan muttered as he hauled himself to his feet. A blast from Scott cut through the same hole Logan had just popped out of. “Watch it Summers!”

“Come on,” Ororo grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the fighting again. Logan looked up and our eyes met for a brief second. I knew he’d be ok, but I hated how many hits he always seemed to have to take first. As I turned to look where I was going, I swear I saw him wink at me.

Even in the middle of a fight he found time to tease me. He really was a bully at the worst times. I told myself I didn’t care if it made my chest warm to see him so at ease in a fight.

Plus, I sometimes wondered if he liked getting hit.

“Can’t go that way!” Rouge’s voice cut into my thoughts as a mass of vines covered the front entrance.

“I thought he wanted us to leave?” I groaned. The vines tangled into each other and seemed to solidify into a new wall. “You got anything Miss Storm?” I asked. She thought for a moment.

“I can’t do anything inside the building with all the windows blocked.” Ororo lamented.

“Logan!” Rouge’s voice shouted behind us. “We can’t get out!”

“He’s a little busy,” I rolled my eyes looking for something to help us. There were some more old chairs, but that didn’t really seem useful at the moment.

“Never too busy for you,” Logan’s voice at my shoulder made me jump. He’d come running when Rouge shouted but it always surprised me how fast he was when he wanted to be.

“Think you can open the doors for us?” I asked him, pretending he wasn’t smiling at me. Pretending he didn’t look amazing fresh from getting shoved through who knows how many walls (and also the floor) of the main office.

“One weed wacker, coming up,” Logan unsheathed his claws with a smirk and I rolled my eyes at his joke wondering how long he’d been working on that one.

Logan chopped through one layer of vines, just for it to be replaced by another. He growled and went after it with both hands, but still, each vine he cut was replaced by another.

The floor shook and jostled me into the useless metal chair pile that occupied the space behind me. The noise was far more obnoxious than the pain it caused me. Rouge cursed as she also lost her footing and landed against the vine wall. Luckily, the vines didn’t seem to care since she wasn’t trying to prune them.

“You good, sweetheart?” Logan called over his shoulder, still slicing at the wall.

“I’m fine,” I snapped, pulling myself back to my feet. It was hard to stand up again because the chairs shifted and I couldn’t get a good spot to push myself up from. Plus, if I were honest, I had landed on something pokey that jabbed me in the ribs hard enough to make breathing hard for a second, but no one needed to know that. They’d just worry about me and we didn’t have the time for that.

“Hurry!” Ororo shouted at Logan.

“You wanna try it?” Logan snapped back angrily. Ororo rolled her eyes at him.

“Umm, guys?” I swallowed hard as I watched a mass of plants swell up through the hole in the office floor. “That doesn’t look good,”

“Where are Jean and Scott?” Rouge asked.

“Want your friends back?” The voice sounded like three or four of Malachi all speaking at once. I felt my stomach drop. Wherever his mutations were made him look like a monster now. All glowing bits and the wrong colors. “Have them back!”

Suddenly another couple of vines burst through the floor and flung two bodies at us. They both slid to a stop in front of me and Ororo.

“Scott! Jean!” Ororo cried out. They both got to their feet and dusted themselves off.

“Hey guys, the elevator here sucks,” Scott coughed. Jean smacked his arm. “What?”

“We need to get out of here,” Jean told him as though that wasn’t already obvious.

“Trying to, but this wall is really persistent,” Logan grumbled.

“The vines are trying to protect him,” Jean said. “Which means they’ll only let him through,”

“And that helps us… how exactly?” I demanded, watching as Malachi and his vines moved closer. If he moved slowly to toy with us or to give us time to realize how futile fleeing turned out to be, I didn’t know. I was more confused as to how things had gone so far south so fast. Malachi had seemed reasonable enough…right until he started glowing.

“Like this,” Jean held up her hands and Malachi’s advance froze. “Logan?” Jean asked in the same tone of voice she’d use for the most mundane requests.

“Yeah?” He sounded skeptical of this whole situation.

“Go stand by the girls please,” Jean nodded towards Ororo, Rouge, and I. Logan raised an eyebrow but took the three steps he needed to clear the doorway. Jean turned and thrust her arms out.

With a multilayered scream, Malachi and his chunk of vines blasted their way through the blockaded door.

I peered through the opening long enough to assess that Malachi was down for at least a few moments, and before anyone else said anything, I moved to push Ororo and Rouge, the closest two to me still, out the door.

“Time to go!” I shouted. The others all agreed and the six of us bolted out into the afternoon sun, back out into the impossible field of flowers.

We could hear Malachai groaning as we hurried past. Maybe we should have checked on him, or arrested him, or something? But we were all too ready to be back on the jet. We could come back for him another day, much more prepared for him.

“Why do I always park so far away?” I complained as we moved through the field. Everyone else was what felt like miles ahead of me and I could distinctly hear Malachi and his vines moving behind us. I risked looking over my shoulder and almost instantly tripped over my feet and crash landed into an entire bush of flowers.

I heard the stems break under my body and something in me lamented that I’d killed such a beautiful plant. But then I noticed why I had actually tripped. The vines were under the ground now, wiggling their way between the plants so as to not disturb them.

“Y/N!” Someone shouted my name and it felt so far away. The flowers that lay crushed on the ground beneath me looked like white chrysanthemums, each flowerhead the size of my fist, only they had red stamin sticking out of them. They were so beautiful, but also alien to me.

“Just go!” I shouted back, getting to my feet. “The vines are underground!” I added. I noticed then that the mound of vines that had held Malachi had disappeared.

And there Malachi stood where we’d left him, still as a statue, as a breeze rushed through. The wind kicked up dust from around what might have been a million different flowers. I felt the fine powder get whipped against my face and closed my eyes against what felt like the tiniest grains of sand. I coughed, knowing it was surely in my lungs too.

When I opened my eyes and looked at Malachi standing there in the distance, he was tousled and dirty, but also looked almost exactly the same as when we first saw him. He didn’t move to follow or attack us anymore.

And his eyes were no longer glowing as he stared blankly after us.

I caught up with the others just as they got the jet’s door open. It always took such a terribly long time to let the ramp down when we closed it, which was why we usually left it open for a quicker getaway. But since no one was sitting with our only ride home, we decided to be more careful and close it for once.

“Move, move, move,” Logan’s voice was loud as he ushered everyone on board. I noticed that the front of his uniform had the same fine dust that had pelted me in the face after I’d tripped. I probably wouldn’t have noticed had it not been for the fact that Jean had left a barely there handprint in the powder on his chest when she touched him as she climbed on board the ship.

It always annoyed me when she did that to him. Jean had literally married Scott less than six months ago and yet she still touched Logan like they were maybe more than friends. Not that it was any of my business, but leave the poor man alone.

Nevermind the green thing in me that wished I was allowed to touch his chest like that.

Scott was flipping switches to turn on the jet as I crested the ramp. I counted that we had everyone on board and hit the button to close up the hatch again.

“Well, that wasn’t great,” I complained, moving to the captain’s chair and shooing Scott from the controls. When I sat down I noticed that my chest felt funny, like I’d been holding my breath too long. And I was really warm, like maybe I was getting a fever.

“Scott?” Jean’s voice was worried and of course, her husband came running to her. I tried to tune them out while I finished the sequences to get us fully airborne.

“Something’s off, something doesn’t feel right,” Jean was almost babbling. I had to focus on getting us safely into the clouds, so I didn’t notice the change things took until I heard Logan swear.

“What the fuck you two?” His anger made me turn in time to see Jean straddling Scott’s lap while she kissed him. Clearly with tongue.

“I… I need you,” Jean stammered into Scott’s throat. Scott seemed to be under the influence of whatever nonsense had its hold on her too, as he was not trying to stop her from kissing him, nor from grinding down on his lap. When she moved up, his suit was clearly struggling to contain whatever it was he kept in his pants.

“Guys!” I snapped.

“Can’t…stop,” Scott panted. “Need you,” The second part was directed at Jean. I scoffed out loud and turned back to the controls because I really needed to get us to the altitude to use the autopilot. It took all of two minutes max, but with the idea of what was happening behind me fresh and spiky in my mind, it made it feel like a hell of a lot longer.

And my head was feeling strange, like maybe I was getting a migraine or something.

I could hear a scuffle and some moaning as Logan tried to break apart the lovebirds.

“Don’t make me shoot you,” Scott’s voice was low and a kind of menacing that I didn’t know he was capable of.

“You wouldn’t risk bringing this entire jet down just to get your rocks off,” Logan was clearly struggling with someone else while he snapped at Scott.

“MMm,” Jean’s voice moaned. “Logan,” I stood then and punched the button for auto pilot with my entire fist.

“What the actual fuck is going on back there?” I demanded turning to face them. Jean was trying to rub herself on Logan, begging for any sort of friction while he did his best to keep her at arms length. I felt a sharp hit of anger and jealousy ricochet around my ribs. It was stronger than any such similar feelings I’d had before and I was confused as to why I suddenly wanted to grab Logan and pull him behind me.

Or under me.

Shaking that thought from my head, I tried to ignore the heat on my face.

“Need Scott,” Jean said, sounding like she’d forgotten what syllables were. “Or Logan,” she purred his name in a way that made me want to jump out the window. Logan shoved her back at Scott, who happily caught her.

“Both of you knock it off,” Logan reprimanded them as though they were children. But when he turned to look at me, it was obvious that part of the reason he’d shoved Jean off was because whatever it was that had affected them was doing something to him too. “Fuck,” The curse was quieter and more to himself as he shivered.

“Is it actually getting really hot in here?” Rouge’s voice was shaky as she asked.

“I think we were drugged,” Ororo managed. She had a light sheen of sweat forming along her brow as she watched Scott and Jean making out like teenagers. Her eyes were stuck to them as though looking away would be a crime.

“How? When?” Logan snapped. He looked a bit twitchy, standing too close to the lovebirds. “You two need to fucking stop,” Irritated both for good reason, and for the uncomfortable pressure that was forming in his chest.

“Storm?” Rouge questioned as Ororo put her hand on her thigh, far higher up than was normal for either of them.

“Marie, since when do you smell so nice?”

“Ok, I am not dealing with this,” I said, feeling a weird mix of fear, anxiety, and heat blooming in my chest. “Everyone, it’s nap time,” I decided all at once. I had no idea if I could hold more than one person at a time, but if ever there was a need to…

“You taste sweeter than sugar, honey,” I felt the blood rush to my ears and to my stomach as I registered the Ororo and Rouge had just kissed. I had to physically push Logan out of my way so I could make a direct path to the original problem… Jean and Scott, who were about three seconds from peeling off their suits.

I grabbed each of them by the back of their neck, as if scruffing a misbehaving pair of puppies, and pulled them apart. They both looked up at me in shock for a moment before falling back together, limp and frozen in time.

“Secure them in their seats please,” I commanded Logan as I made my way over to Ororo and Rouge. Logan finally moved to do as I asked and I wondered if he was feeling the same wobbly feeling I was as I stopped in front of the next pair of us.

“Yes ma’am,” Logan purred and I ignored that wave of want that his graveled voice pulled through me.

Ororo and Rouge at least appeared to be trying not to cause a scene, but they were eyefucking quite openly. And their hands were wandering.

“It hurts in my chest,” Ororo told me as I pulled her hand off Rouge’s thigh. Rouge whimpered at the loss, but had steeled herself for at least the moment. “Like I need to touch her or I’ll die,” she sounded so scared. I broke my heart because I didn’t know what was going on and so I couldn’t help her. Or my other friends.

“We’ll get you home and Hank will know what to do,” I assured her. The best I could think of.

She buckled herself into her seat as Rouge reached for her arm, begging for contact again. I pressed my fingers against Ororo’s cheek and her eyes went hazy and she went limp, her seatbelts holding her upright.

I had never figured out why some people froze more solidly than others. Logan always seemed to keep his feet when frozen, but almost everyone else turned into noodles. I turned to Rouge who was looking at Ororo with a sort of pained look that I couldn’t place. It was somewhere near lust, of course, but there was something that spoke of fear in it too. I wondered if either of them had lusted for a woman before.

“I promise, I’ll release y’all as soon as I can, so please don’t fight me,” I told her. I wasn’t particularly southern, but y’all was something I’d picked up from someone and never managed to put back down. I touched her face carefully and she laid back in her seat, her hand still resting on Ororo’s arm.

“How are you so calm?” Logan demanded through clenched teeth. I could feel my heart beating at a higher rate than normal, but if Logan thought I was calm, he didn’t realize that. Which was good, he didn’t need to worry about me.

Also alarming because usually he could tell when someone’s heart was racing (and he’d teased me about it more than once).

“I was hoping you weren’t being affected,” I groaned. My head felt full of cotton, like everything was in a soft focus and there was tea waiting for me when I sat down, that kind of feeling.

“All I can smell is them,” He growled, taking a step towards me.

“Sit down and buckle up,” I told him, my voice a bit shaky. There was a terrible ache between my thighs, like someone had scooped out my insides and were about to carve me like a pumpkin.

Logan stepped closer and for a second I thought he was going to listen. If I had them all held, maybe it would be easier. Maybe I could focus on holding them still instead of the fact I really wanted to know if Logan’s tongue tasted like cigars or not.

I bet it did.

“I want to smell you,” Logan’s pupils were blown beautifully wide. “And only you,” he was staring down at me like I was the only thing in the entire universe. I wished it was true, that he felt that way about me. But I knew it was whatever we’d been covered with. I knew it wasn’t real.

“Sit down,” My voice was weaker than I wanted it to be.

“Why can’t I smell you?” He was almost just talking to himself, annoyed that he could smell everyone else’s arousal over mine.

I walked backwards towards the captain’s and copilot's chair, pleased that Logan followed. But I wasn’t quick enough and he managed to get his hands on my hips. I brought my hands up between us, pushing him away.

But he was always so much stronger than me, so I struggled to get any space between us. Besides, as soon as he was in my space, something in me really wanted to drown in him instead. Consequences be damned.

“If I drop you here, I can’t lift your heavy… heavy ass off the floor,” I panted as he leaned down to inhale deeply at my throat. I surprised myself at the whimper that left me when he placed the first open mouth kiss at the only skin exposed on my neck over my suit.

“Fuck,” He moaned so low in his chest I could feel it vibrate in mine. “Let me just… just touch you for a second,”

“Logan, it’s not real,” I told him. It didn’t ease the ache in my gut but it helped keep my mind clear. Plus there were four different strings already pulling my brain tight. I was wildly, uncomfortably aroused, but I wasn’t about to lose control just because the man I had a crush on was kissing my neck.

When did he unzip the top of my suit to get to more skin?

“Please,” He moaned against my throat again. “Just one kiss, then I’ll behave, promise.”

“I don’t believe you,” I murmured, trying desperately to push him away. But it felt so nice to have him like this. It was something I’d thought about far more times than I’d ever admit to anyone. And my hand was in his hair.

But it wasn’t real, he didn’t really want me.

Why would he?

“Y/N,” Logan groaned as his hands moved to find my chest. I gasped at the sensation of his warm hand covering one of my breasts. I wanted so badly to surrender to the feeling, to let him touch and feel and devour me whole.

But I knew it wasn’t real, and that hurt differently enough that I finally got my last two working brain cells together to push him off.

“Fuck, Logan, sit your punkass down,” I snapped, feeling tears in my throat. It would be so much easier to give in. To at least feel something good for once. To finally figure out what it would feel like to be with him.

But it wasn’t real, wasn’t real, wasn’t real… and I knew I would hate myself when it was over if I gave in now.

Logan gave me a sassy smirk, watching me breathing hard as a reaction to him and what he’d done.

“Don’t you feel it too?”

“I don’t feel anything,” I lied. The snap of my words seemed to surprise him, but only deterred him long enough for me to sit myself in the Captain’s chair and buckle in. “Now, don’t touch me,” I commanded him. I knew if he touched me too much I’d give in. That at some point, the effects would overwhelm me too. Best to keep him away.

“No,” He growled. “Wanna smell you, wanna touch you, wanna fuck you,” His eyes were so hazy and it made my center pulse with need and that empty, endless ache. But the endless ache was an old friend, I’d sat with her before. I could sit with her now too.

“I need to call the mansion,” I told him.

Maybe ignoring him would help keep him at bay. I knew it wouldn’t. Even without the nonsense going on, he’d never been a particularly good listener unless he wanted to be.

And he sure didn’t want to be right now.

“Don’t interrupt or I’ll not let you smell me ever again,” I told him. This seemed to work better as he sat cross legged next to me on the floor, perked up like a dog waiting for a bone after having done a trick. I felt a wave of lust wash over me at his eagerness to please me. My core ached, knowing he’d gladly lap me up for his reward.

“Did you find it?” Charle’s voice over the radio should have been a relief but it made me angry because it wasn’t the right voice. But I bit back my annoyance and tried to respond coherently.

“We’re flying back.” My voice was choppy as I took too many breaths. “I have everyone but Logan frozen, we…we were dosed with something,”

“Y/N,” Logan grumbled impatiently.

“What’s happening?”

“Umm…” I suddenly was too embarrassed to say what was going on.

“Y/N? Is everyone alright?” The alarm in Charles’ voice snapped my brain cells together with enough force I was able to manage one sentence.

“They’re trying to fuck each other,”

“Oh.” The embarrassment would have killed me had Logan not gotten impatient and started sniffing along my leg, pressing open mouth kisses along the seams of my pants. I swatted at him, trying to get him to knock it off. He just smirked and kept pressing, glad to at least have my hand in his hair.

“I have them frozen, but Logan…” My voice got caught in my throat as Logan moved to bury his face in my hip, nuzzling and smelling his way up my ribs until his face was in my armpit. “Jesus fuck, knock it off,” I whined like a kid who was late for nap time. All upset and no anger. I felt tears in my eyes and in my throat because this was all simply Too Much.

“Are you safe to get everyone home?” Charles redirected. I grabbed Logan’s face and glowered at him.

“Take a nap,” I told him and tried to snag him in my powers. It worked but he was frozen with an arm across my lap and his face trying to find a way into my suit. “Sorry, I had to freeze Logan too, but he’s harder to hold onto.” I tried to keep my words even. But I could feel all five of them now, like trying to hold onto the strings of too many balloons but only with my teeth.

“Y/N, can you fly everyone home?”

“Yeah, I think so. Best prepare them for us, tell Hank it was Malachi Mitchelle, maybe that’ll help.” Logan’s string slipped in my mental grip and he growled as he pulled himself free.

“Gotta go,” Logan said loud enough for Charles to hear as he sat up on his knees to turn off the radio connection. “Now, you,” His eyes were hungry and his gaze made my insides twist with want.

“Logan, please just stop,” I begged. I was specifically trying not to feel anything for him, to not let him do something he’d regret later. I knew he didn’t want this. At the moment, I’m not sure any of us really did.

“No,” He challenged me. Logan’s hands traced my body, one moved around to the inside of my thigh and inched its way closer to my center. He held my eyes, daring me to tell him I didn’t want this.

But this wasn’t about what I wanted.

“It’s not real, you don’t want this,” I felt those tears again, warm in my throat and stinging behind my eyes. He looked up at me and brushed the tears from one of my cheeks with his thumb.

“No, I do want this… I’m always gonna… never going to stop,” He was breathing heavily but smirking. My center pulsed and squeezed around nothing because dammit all if that wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear.

Logan’s smirk got lost when he buried his face into the crease made by my leg and hip. He breathed in the scent of me again and the moan that escaped him had my heart ricocheting in my chest.

“Never going to get enough of the smell of you.” I found my hands in his hair, fingers intertwined in his tuffs as if I had the strength to pull him away from my lap.

“Why?” I asked more as a general question, ‘why is this happening to me?’ or ‘why do I bother trying to be good?’ or maybe even a bit of ‘why would you say that to me?’

“Cuz I love you,” Logan murmured against my stomach. I looked down at him, that ache in my pelvis shimming at the closeness of him. But the ache in my chest? That longing for something real? It burned brighter. I knew he wasn’t trying to tease me this time and somehow that made it worse.

While influenced he probably thought he was telling the truth.

I couldn’t take it when I knew the fall would come when this madness passed. The look in his eyes when he realized ‘oh god, what have I done?’.

I felt tears in my throat again. I wished what he said was true, that his ardent behavior was stemming from somewhere real and true. But it wasn’t.

It simply wasn’t.

I grabbed his face in one hand, the other still in his hair, and squeezed his cheeks together while he looked at me like he never wanted to look at anything else.

“Go the fuck to sleep, you petulant child,” I ground out, all the anger in me aimed at myself and the fact that I had to deny myself this wonderful thing. This thing my body craved.

This time, Logan’s eyes went hazy and blank, his jaw went slack, and his limbs all buckled under him. I finally had him wound tight enough to hold.

But now I had to hold him, and the other four, for the next 43 and half minutes. Which was the expected time remaining, according to the flight data that flashed on one of the panels. I had no idea if I could hold on to everyone that long, especially Logan who was too good at shaking off my powers.

[Masterlist]

[Logan Masterlist]

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sukirichi · 3 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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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.

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

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.

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

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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ellieluvr420 · 9 months ago

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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.

#ellie x reader #tlou ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie

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spacelazarwolf · 1 year ago

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109 years ago today, leo frank, an innocent american jewish man, was lynched.

in 1913, leo frank was arrested for the murder of mary phagan. despite evidence that he was at home at the time of the murder, the jury decided in just four hours that he was guilty and the judge sentenced him to death. all of frank's appeals were rejected. protests erupted outside the governor's mansion when the governor decided to commute frank's sentence from death to life imprisonment, and on august 17th, 1915, a group of 25 men kidnapped frank from the prison hospital where he was recovering from an attempt on his life, drove him 100 miles to mary phagan's hometown, and lynched him. there are several photos of the lynching.

though frank is the only known jewish victim of lynching in america, antisemitism was baked into the nation's history in numerous other ways. during the trial, the prosecuting attorney framed him as a sexual pervert who was both a homosexual and preyed on young girls. this is not the first time a jewish man has been framed as a sexual predatory because of his jewishness. it was simply the culmination of centuries of antisemitism that still persists to this day. (content warning for antisemitic caricatures and one graphic photo of the lynching of leo frank)

leo frank was proven innocent after his death, though many people still insist he was guilty, particularly white supremacists.

a musical called parade about the trial and tragic death of leo frank was written by jewish composer jason robert brown and jewish playwright alfred uhry. it premiered in 1988 and was revived in 2023 on broadway, starring jewish actors ben platt and micaela diamond, where neo nazis protested outside the theatre, claiming the show was "glorifying a pedophile."

as of writing this, tomorrow is the first day of elul, the last month in the jewish calendar culminating in the high holy days, the holiest days of the jewish year. every year, synagogues see an increase in negative attention and antisemitism from their wider communities. we start to receive more hostile phone calls and emails, threats of violence, and this year there was a swatting campaign targeting at least 26 jewish institutions. we are supposed to be using this time to reflect and make amends with the people we've hurt, and instead so much of our time and energy had to go toward ensuring we can even safely walk into our communal spaces.

i don't have the answer for how to fix this or what you as a gentile should do. antisemitism is thousands of years old, and it's not going to stop because some well meaning people on tumblr read all the articles linked in this post. all i know is that jews all over the world are terrified and so, so tired.

#jewish #jumblr #antisemitism

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garysautorepair · 11 months ago

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Wondering what are the signs of a bad tires? Keep up with regular tire service, including proper air pressure, tire rotations, and tire balancing.

#what are the signs of bad tires #tire service grand island ne #tire repair grand island ne #tire repair shop near me #tire service shop near me #how to tell if you need new tires #how many miles should a tire last #how many miles do new tires last #when should you replace your tires #how do you know when it’s time to get new tires #how often should you get new tires for your car #how often should new tires be rotated

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luvjunie · 1 year ago

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hiiiii!!!!

idk if ur taking requests or not, but can you scenarios about miles 1610 and 42 (or just one of them) if they were your older brother reacting to you having a boyfriend/girlfriend taking you out or something (they radiate overprotective brother energy idk why😫🙏)

LOVEEE your work!!😊

AW THANK YOUUU SM 🫶🏽 miles42 a/n: this is exaggerated a little for comedic reasons lolll. and ik i’ve done something similar to this alr but i’ll honestly never get tired of writing siblings bickering so idc skskdkd

“Bye Miles I’ll be back by 9 don’t bother waiting up for dinner!” You rambled out in one quick breath as you whisked passed your brother’s open door.

“Aht aht, come back,”

Your lips smacked against your teeth when you stopped in your tracks. He had his damn Beats on and was literally bobbing his head to whatever he was listening to, how did he even hear you?

With the inside of your cheek between your teeth and a huff pushing from your nostrils, you spun on your heels and begrudgingly stomped a few paces back to see him already facing the doorway. You stared at him with an oblivious look that had an attitude written all over it, arms smacking against your sides and head moving like a chicken’s when you asked,

“What?”

He pushed one of the ears to his headphones back and gave you a curious look. “Where are you going?”

“Out, clearly.” you blinked.

“Yeah, no shit, but where?”

You looked to the side, then back at him. “Does it matter?”

“Uh, yeah,” Miles huffed a humorless chuckle. “Mom ain’t here, so that means I’m responsible for you. And even when she is here I’m still responsible for you. Shit, soon as you were born I was responsi—“

“A boy,” you quickly clarified with a hand out, hoping to avoid one of his soap-box rants. “I’m going out with a boy. Cool?”

“Cool, cool.” His lips puckered when he nodded to himself, screwdriver tapping against the little mechanical trinket he’d previously been working on.

Here we fucking go.

“What’s his name? He got siblings and if so, how many? Where he work at? Does he even have a job? Cause if he don’t he a bum. What car he drive or are y’all takin’ the train?”

You stared at him, bewilderment painted on your expression in the form of a scowl.

“Who are you, the CIA?”

“Doesn’t answer my questions.” He disregarded your own with a derisive shrug.

“Jalen. His name is Jalen. What you gon’ ask for next? His mother’s maiden name?” you joked. “Or what, his social security number?”

Miles glanced to the side, pretending as if he were actually considering it.

“Honestly, that would make things a whole lot easier.”

“Dude,” You rubbed your forehead, hand thrown to the air in exasperation. “How would I know half of those things?”

“Wha—You’on see where we live at?” Voice upped an octave in astonishment, Miles gestured towards the window behind him with his thumb. “There’s some crazy mfs out there, trust me I know—“

Your head dropped back when you groaned. “Oh brother—“

“What you should be asking is why don’t you know those things.”

“Look I’m not about to do this with you. You act like I don’t know that you weren’t at Uncle Aaron’s last night. But that’s what you told Mom, ain’t it?” You folded your arms and tilted your head. You looked far too complacent for him to call your bluff.

“Yeah,” You nodded at his silence with a smug smirk. “You think I don’t know about you and Aliyah by now? Especially when last week you were all ‘Mami, she’s my partner for a project, can she come over?’” you mimicked him in an insultingly goofy voice that wasn’t anywhere near close to his.

“Since when do you do ‘partnered projects’?” Your eyes narrowed.

His mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water told you everything you needed to know but you played on; all in a day’s work of sibling banter.

“Huh? What was that?” you cupped a hand to your ear, lashes fluttering when you looked to the side.

You: 1

Miles: 0

He cleared his throat, looking away once his face started to get hot.

“Aight, whatever bro. But share your location with me. Seriously, I’m not playing.”

“Yeah yeah,” You rolled your eyes, opening up your phone and clicking his contact.

“And if ole’ boy try anything, tell him I keep a pole.”

It was a joke. Kinda, but not really at the same time. That wasn’t the exact weapon he used, but it was close enough.

You scoffed. “Stop cappin’, you’ve never even shot a gun before.”

Miles didn’t say anything, but the look on his face suddenly turned dead serious. And as the both of you stared at each other in an eerie silence, you made a wise decision to not take the subject any further.

“Whatever,” You shook your head, motioning to your outfit. “Do I at least look nice, though? Be honest.”

Miles looked you up and down, his top lip arching when he did a so-so motion with his head. He knew you were genuinely asking, but what kind of brother would he be if he didn’t mess with you a little bit?

“Ehh, yeah.“ he shrugged, looking unimpressed on purpose. “Fit coulda been harder though. Shoulda asked me for help, I woulda got you right.”

“Oh good-fucking-bye.”

“Dude, I’m kidding!” he called out with a laugh as you stormed off.

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#atsvplatonic #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miles morales x sister!reader #earth 42 miles morales fanfiction #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles g morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles g morales #miles morales x reader

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aphrogeneias · 1 year ago

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𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 — spanking

pairing: steve harrington x reader

warnings: slight dom/sub dynamics. daddy kink. fingering. reader expresses some insecurities.

From the moment you caught Steve's eye from the other side of the room, you knew you were in trouble.

Actually, you knew it before that. When you withdrew into yourself, when you knew that's exactly what Steve told you not to do. When you ignored him when he talked to you, shying away from his attention. Looking away from his pleading gaze, caramel eyes begging you to give in.

Not saying more than a couple of words for the rest of night, revisiting the same thoughts over and over like poking a bruise, sitting there like an open wound. You knew you were wrong, and did it anyway. Even then, you couldn't deal with Steve's "I'm not mad, just disappointed" stare. The same he used when Dustin, or any one of your friends, told him about something stupid and possibly life-risking they did.

You'd had this conversation a couple of times. All he ever asked was to not shit him out, to talk to him when you're feeling insecure, when something is making you upset, no matter what it is — and you stubbornly ignored all of those times you had this same talk.

Steve was talking to a pretty girl, that was all. One of Nancy's work friends who was visiting, you didn't catch her name — it didn't matter, really. All it mattered was the thoughts in your head about how if Steve noticed how there were better options for him out there, he would leave.

He didn't, and he wouldn't. He was still right beside you when you got into your shared apartment, after staying silent through the whole car ride, but still keeping his hand on your thigh the whole way home. Steve dropped his keys on the tray near the door, and stood in the middle of the living room, hands on his hips.

"I'm not mad, just disappointed".

The first thing he asked was, "Do you have anything to say?"

You winced, feeling guiltier than before. "Can we talk in the morning?"

"No, we're gonna talk now." He insisted. "I'm not gonna let you sleep with whatever is bothering you still in there."

Sighing, you shifted on your feet, knowing you had no choice. Steve could be as stubborn as you when he wanted to, and you were in for a long night if you weren't the one to break first.

"It's dumb, Steve. I got in dumb Head thinking about you talking to that pretty blonde girl and smiling at her and I kept thinking," before you knew it, your mouth was running a thousand miles per hour, "God, why is Steve still with me? When he could have any pretty blonde girl he wanted? Anyone better than me. Why is he still here? And honestly I wouldn't blame you…"

You weren't able to finish that last sentence.

All you saw was Steve letting out a tired laugh, and marching towards with purpose. The world was suddenly upside down when he picked you by your waist, and threw you over his shoulder. You protested by yelling his name, thrashing in his hold, but he would not yield.

In a moment, you were laying over Steve's lap as he sat on the end of your bed. His strong thighs under you, the warm fabric of his jeans against your thin dress. You should have seen this coming. He ran a hand over your back, soothing and yet a threat all the same.

"You don't listen, do you?" He asked, still running his hand over the expanse of your back, stopping right before the curve of your ass, and up again. "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't want anyone else. I don't need anyone else. You're it for me, honey. You're all I could ever ask for and it breaks my heart that you don't see it. You have to see it."

"I'm sorry, Steve." Your voice was but a whisper, but you knew he heard you.

"This is for not listening, honey." You took a deep breath, and nodded your consent. "Can you count to ten for me?"

"Yes."

It was the answer he needed. Slowly, he pulled your panties from your hips, fingers grazing your skin and already setting you on edge, and lowered them to sit right under your ass. Your dress was lifted right after, leaving you bare and at his mercy.

"Ready?"

A long sigh left your lips. "Ready."

The first slap stung. Steve's big hand came in contact with your right cheek, the sound of the impact filling the room. He soothed it with his touch, moving his hand in circular motions over the bruise that was already forming.

"One." You breathed out. The second and third came right after, smacking the plush flesh and watching it ripple under his touch. It sent a burning sensation right to your core, and the urge to rub your thighs together grew, but you knew better not to squirm — you just kept counting.

Steve kept caressing the globes of your ass with a firm hand before delivering the fourth and fifth smacks. By the sixth, you were panting, hard nipples pressing to the rough material of his jeans and your pussy wet and sticky between your closed thighs.

The seventh was followed by Steve's fingers prodding in between your thighs, feeling just how wet you were for him. He teased your entrance with two fingers, circling it before retreating.

You curled your toes and pressed your eyes shut, holding onto what little control you still had. "Daddy…"

"I know, baby. Just a little more." His voice was gentle, but his touch was anything but. Seven and eight were hard, the sting they left making you moan out loud this time, instead of the small mewls and whimpers you were letting yourself release.

Nine was quick, but just before ten, he lowered his fingers again. This time, all the down to your puffy clit, drawing tight circles on it. You squirmed and whimpered his name as he kept going, teasing your little bundle of nerves with expert fingertips. It was almost embarrassing how close you were to coming, arching your back to meet his touch.

"Are you gonna be good for me?"

"I'll be good, I promise." You swallow hard as he put more pressure on his fingers, making you salivate with your orgasm on the tip of your tongue. "I'll be good, daddy. Please."

"Then don't forget to count."

His hand, now stained with your slick, delivered the last smack to your bruising flesh. You screamed with it, a mixture of a broken moan and a strangled "Ten!". The flood between your legs and the red hot sensation in your lower tummy had let you know you'd just cum, untouched.

Your heavy breathing was all that could be heard in the otherwise silent room as Steve maneuvered you to lay fully on the bed, on your side and resting your head on your pillow. He took the time to remove all of your clothes, and you were bare, he kissed tenderly on the forehead, and laid beside you, still dressed.

"I want you to remember this the next time you get into your head about where I stand in this relationship. Remember that there's nowhere else I'd rather be than here, even if I have to remind you that I'm yours as much as you're mine." He lightly ran his fingers over your arm, causing a shiver to run all over your tired body, "Remember that, okay?"

"I'll remember. I'm sorry." You didn't have the strength to talk.

"That's okay, angel. I'll always be here if you need a reminder."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #kinktober 2023

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leennaan · 9 months ago

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Alessia Russo // Take on the world pt2

Here it is. Part two of „Take on the world“

Pt1 can be found here

Warnings: mentions of death and mental health problems. It’s not very detailed but it is mentioned so if that triggers you don’t read it. Take care of yourself.

With that being said, enjoy reading💕

———————————————————————

A few weeks had gone by since Alessia and Lotte had left the states, but the Corona situation had only worsened since then.

You left Chaphill a week after the two English girls to go back to your family in New York.

Alessia and you called each other daily. Sometimes you called her in the morning, and you would make breakfast for yourself and your little sister while she ate lunch or did her exercises. Sometimes it would already be night in England, and you would talk about your day while the blonde would just listen to you until she fell asleep.

The distance was hard for you both, as you were used to being in close proximity 24/7, but you managed.

But it got harder and harder when your girlfriend called you less and less. When you did talk to each other, you could sense that something was wrong, but you didn’t want to pressure Lessi.

When Alessia hadn’t talked to you in over two days with not even a text, you got worried.

You were scared that you had done anything. That she didn’t love you anymore. But also, maybe something had happened. Whenever the two of you talked, she looked drained with swollen and red-rimmed eyes. She looked like she had cried a lot, and it made you sick that you didn’t know what had happened to her.

So on the second day, she hadn’t called or answered your text, so you decided to call Lotte.

„Hey Y/N. What happened? You look like you cried."

Lotte had answered the second you dialed her number.

A son escaped your lips, and Lotte was instantly concerned.

„Calm down. Talk to me. What’s going on?"

„Lessi, she, I think she, she wants to break up with me."

You sobbed.

„Lessi wants what? Why would you say that? That girl is heads over heels in love with you.“

Lotte looked at you like you had lost your head or something. A few days ago, you would have believed her in an instant, but now you're not so sure.

"She hasn’t called me or answered my text in the last two days. That’s so unlike her. She called me even two or three times a day not many days ago, and then it got less and less, and the texts got shorter and shorter, and now she stopped altogether.“

You explained to Lotte, who looked more and more worried.

„Y/n I don’t think that that has anything to do with you. She hasn’t talked to me either, and the last time we talked, she looked so tired and sad."

Now you felt really bad. You had noticed that something was up with your girlfriend, but instead of trying to help her, you got stuck in your own head.

"You are right, Lotts. She looked like she had cried a lot when we last talked.“

„You know what? I will drive over tomorrow and look at how she is doing. I call you when I know more."

„Thank you, Lotts. I feel so stupid. I should have released that something wasn’t right. I wish I was with you guys. I want to help Lessi, but I feel like I am too far away.“

It took you a few hours to comprehend what Lotte had said.

You really felt dumb. The way you noticed her red and swollen eyes, her small voice when she talked, the way she seemed to be miles away—never once had you thought about why she was like that. Your mind had gone straight to thinking she would break up with you.

Now angry at yourself, you threw your mobile phone across the room, only to scramble to your feet and quickly make your way over to it when it started ringing.

You looked at your screen, which read “star girl." Stunned, you looked at the clock. It was around 3 a.m. in the morning in London. Now concerned about Alessia, you quickly accepted the face-time call.

You could barely make Alessia out in the darkness of her room, but you could definitely hear her sniffling.

“Lessi Baby? What’s wrong?” You asked, concerned, but she didn’t answer you.

"Baby, you scare me. You can talk to me; you know that, right?” It was silent for a few seconds, but it felt like hours until the blonde quietly started to talk.

"He, he is gone, Y/N."

Immediately, your heart sank. "They said he was better; they said he would be released soon. I don’t know what to do; y/n, he is gone.“

You watched as Alessia started to cry, and you wished nothing more than to be there with her. To be able to hold her. You knew she was talking about her grandpa. The situation in Italy was still tense. A lot of people were dying because of COVID, but until now, no one close to you was affected. Now that had changed, and you couldn’t imagine how Alessia must feel.

„Baby I am so sorry. I wish I could hold you. Is there anything I can do for you?“ You asked, now hating this whole situation even more.

Alessia's blue eyes were chiming with tears, and you had to fight back your own. Seeing Alessia like this broke you.

„Can you just talk to me? I haven’t slept since yesterday, when we got the call. Every time I close my eyes, I see his face."

„Of course I can. Anything specific?“ Your girlfriend shook her head.

„My parents are thinking of adopting a dog. They said that with me and also my sister going to college next year, they will be lonely. I felt betrayed that now that I am out of the house, they want a dog. You know I wanted one since I was little.“

And so you talked to her for the next few hours. Here and there, Alessia would hum or nod her head at you to show that she was listening. Slowly, you noticed her eyelids dropping and watched her fall into a restless sleep.

You stayed on the phone even after she fell asleep. As you watched her, a lone tear made its way down your cheek.

A few hours later, you woke up feeling slightly disoriented. You grabbed your phone from where it lay next to you.

Alessia had sent you a thank-you text and had wished you a good day.

That’s how the next few days went. At first, Alessia called you after she couldn’t fall asleep for hours, but you couldn’t see her struggling even more, so you started to call her around six p.m. London time. Often, Alessia just wanted to hear your voice, and you obliged, telling her about your day. One day you even played on your guitar after what felt like years. You started playing when you were little, but it got less and less in recent years. Now you were singing for her songs that you thought she liked or that she requested.

She didn’t know that you could play or sing, but she loved it, and so did you.

It kind of got therapeutic for you too, and slowly you started playing for yourself again, even when you were not talking to Alessia.

When the summer neared, you got increasingly excited.

Alessia was feeling better; at least that was what she told you.

You could still see the pain in her eyes, and you knew that she wasn’t as well as she said, but she was slowly getting there. Her smiles became more real again, and you knew she slept better because the begs under her eyes got less prominent.

Around early June, you went back to campus, and this time you took your guitar with you.

Over the last few weeks, you even started to write little songs. Nothing was good in your opinion, but it helped you sort out your thoughts.

Alessia and Lotte called you one afternoon when you were sitting in your dorm room with your guitar in hand, and they were both really buzzing. You felt the good energy as soon as you accepted the call.

„We are coming back!“ Was the first thing that Allesia shouted.

„Wait what?“ You asked, perplexed.

„Yes, we just booked our flight for next week. The restrictions aren’t as bad as before, and we want to get back as soon as possible. I know Blondie over here has missed you an awful lot, but I missed you almost as much," answered Lotte, and you couldn’t help the big grin that spread over your face when Alessia punched Lotte lightly on the shoulder.

„No way, guys, I am so excited. When are you back? I’ll pick you up from the airport. I can’t believe it. I missed you both. Campus and everything just isn’t the same without you Brits.“ You laughed.

That’s how you found yourself in the airport in North Carolina only five days later, impatiently waiting for the two girls to arrive.

And with almost one and a half hours of delay, they landed. As soon as you saw Alessia, you couldn’t help yourself, and you sprinted right into her arms. She had dropped her luggage to be able to hoist you up into her arms. You wrapped your legs around her waist, clinging to her like a koala.

„Oh how I have missed you." Whispered Lessi into your ear, not letting go of you. You answered by kissing her. It felt so good to have her lips on yours again.

After what felt like hours but in reality were only a few seconds, Lotte interrupted you two. „I know you guys love each other and missed each other so much, but I also missed you. Can I at least get a hug?“

Both Lessi and you couldn’t help but laugh before your girlfriend let you down, and you hugged Lotte. „I missed you too, Lotts.“

The next few weeks were the best you had for a while. Being able to spend time with your girlfriend made you extremely happy, and you could see that Alessia was feeling better too.

Of course, there were days when she was feeling down, but being able to just hug you was enough to make her better.

On days she was feeling especially down, you would get out your guitar and play something for her. You even taught her a few accords.

But soon you noticed that not all things were back to perfect.

At training, there was uncertainty about stuff and players. No one knew what the season would bring.

It wasn’t decided whether the games would be held as normal or if there would even be a college cup.

Training was hard if no one knew what they trained for.

You noticed that Lotte and Alessia were not happy with the situation.

„When we don’t have games, we are losing our opportunities.“ Said Lotte one evening when you were sitting together with the whole team. Of course, she was right. Without games to watch for national or club coaches, they would lose their spot on the national team and chances for a professional contract after college.

„I talked with the guffer today. He said he has no idea what’s going to happen this season. I also asked my brother what I should do. He recommended looking for offers back in England.“ Said Alessia while she was cuddled by your side. You didn’t want the girls to leave again, but you knew the situation would probably be the best. „What about you guys? Do you consider playing outside the U.S.?“ asked Lois. You watched as your friends answered. „I don’t know. My dream was always to play in the NWSL. It doesn’t really matter to me anyway. I‘ve got two years of college left, and my mother would literally disown me if I dropped out.“ The fact that you were a year younger than most of your close friends and girlfriend just hit you. Knowing that you would be left behind for a year even without this whole Corona thing going on.

Alessia noticed that your mind was starting to wander. Your habit of overthinking is getting the better of you again. So you hadn’t noticed her standing up. Only once did she pull you towards her, carefully maneuvering you out of the room.

„Baby breath. Breath. I am here. Follow my breathing. That’s it, baby. Slowly. Yes. There you are.“ Slowly, your breathing settled down.

„I don’t want you to leave. Not again.“ You whispered, and Alessia pulled you against her. Wrapping her strong arms around your body. „No matter what. I'll always love you. I know it was hard for us both, but we can do it again. I will visit whenever I can, and I promise you I will always be one call away. I know it may not seem like this right now, but I know for sure that you and I are forever.“ She kissed you hard, like a promise.

Your eyes were still closed when she pulled away slightly.

„I know we are still young…“ You felt her move away from your body and watched her get a jewelry box out. You opened your mouth, but she interrupted you. "Don't worry, I am not proposing. At least not yet.“ You couldn’t help but chuckle.

"It's a promise ring. I promise that I will never desert you. I promise that one day I will go down on that knee. A promise of a future together. "I promise that even though there might be thousands of kilometers between us, I will always be there for you.“ Tears streamed down your face as you watched her. Heart racing, you put your hand out for her to put the ring on your finger. „Not yet, baby. There is something on the inside I want you to look at."

Carefully, you grabbed the ring. Written in cursive were the words ‚We will take on the world‘ a sentence that both of you had repeatedly said to each other.

„I love you so much.“ You said this, grabbing her face with your hands and kissing her hard.

———————————————————————

I am already working on Pt 3 which will also be the final part

Always open to feedback ☺️

#alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #woso #unc tar heels #unc Reader #alessia russo #lotte wubben moy #woso x reader #Tar Heels #woso imagine

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georgiapeach30513 · 1 year ago

Text

Much Too Fast, Part 1

Summary: Spotting Curtis Everett broke down on the side of the road, you just had to pick him up. Didn’t you?

Pairings: Curtis Everett X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, hitchhiking, drinking, PIV sex, dry humping, fingering, squirting, mentions of oral sex, early indications of a D/s relationship, cheating (?), 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5K

Series Masterlist

A/N: this is 100% one of @tis-thedamn-season brain. Not going to lie...I love it!

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Looking at the clock in your car you sigh. Getting closer to your destination every mile. Putting more and more space between you and the place you used to call home. This was the perfect opportunity to start a new life. You weren’t even running from anything, you just wanted to see more. Wanted to do more. Moving to a new state, a bigger city, and to a possible beautiful home.

There were still so many doubts. So many what if’s, but you were young. Your parents told you that you needed to take the chances you were given. Live life, and experience new things. More than the little podunk town on the opposite side of the United States. The east coast was going to give you more opportunities that is something you were sure of. That you were positive.

The current hope you had was to make it to your last hotel before the rain started. And then the last couple of hours to Boston. One more sleep, and you would be there. You needed to stay awake. Stay alert, and hope for the best.

Curtis on the other hand is annoyed. No service, and broke down on the side of the road. The rumble of thunder makes him even more irritated. He had just a few more hours on his mini road trip, and he would be home. And then this stupid old car broke down. He should have known better. A mechanic taking a stupid dumb car. Out in the middle of nowhere, with no fucking cell service.

He couldn’t even remember why he needed to take this trip every year. And in the predicament he’s in currently it just pisses him off. He leans on the hood of the car, hoping that someone will see him stranded. The chances were low. He knew he was probably going to be staying the night in the backseat. He was tired. He was agitated.

You squint your eyes in the distance, seeing a figure leaning onto a car. This is just like how every horror movie starts. But you feel the need to pull over. Slowing your Mini Cooper down, but staying on the road. It was a small two lane road, and you hadn’t seen a car on here for miles.

“Hey, uh…woah,” the man that approaches your car backs up quickly. “Sorry, I know this is going to sound lame and dumb, but you’re a young girl out here alone, and I don’t want you to feel that I’m trying to take advantage of you or chop you up for…this isn’t making you feel better is it?”

“No. Not at all,” what he was saying didn’t make you feel better, but how he was saying it did. “Are you having car trouble or do you normally just lean against your car hoping for someone to chop up?”

“Ah, you caught me,” he leans over, trying to get a good view of you, but still standing far enough away. “Although, my getaway car’s transmission went out. There’s no cell service here. Can’t even call my partner to come tow this damn car.”

“Your partner?” Curtis watches as your arm starts to relax a bit more. The grip on your steering wheel loosens up.

“Yeah, we own a garage together.”

“Imagine that, a mechanic with car trouble,” Curtis gives you a chuckle, stepping closer to your car. “Not much of a mechanic are you?” His arms rest on your open window, and against your better judgment, you still don’t tense up. “What are you doing out here?”

“I go on a road trip for about two weeks every year. I was almost home. Heading to Newton.”

“Me, too,” Curtis’ eyes drift up and down your front. He tries to make himself not look too much like a predator who had found its next prey, but you seriously were a gem. Out here all alone, in your tiny little car, loaded up with piles of shit. This car was too small for how much you had in here.

“Newton’s a few hours away, and it’s getting late.”

“Oh, I’ve got a hotel about twenty minutes up the road. Um…do you need a ride? I’m sure that they have a phone there. Seeing how there’s no service.”

“Uh, did your daddy not teach you not to pick up strangers?” Of course he did, but somehow this handsome stranger was making you feel comfortable.

“Should I be scared?”

“Of me? No, but isn’t that what a killer would tell you? I seriously mean you no harm, but I am questioning your judgment here. You got pepper spray or anything?” Nodding your head, you dig around in your cup holder holding it up. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with this?”

“You’re not making me feel better about this now. But the GPS does say the hotel is just up the road, less than an hour to go. Hand me your keys,” Curtis freely hands the car keys to you, and you stuff them in your doors pocket, unlocking the car, and letting Curtis clumsily get in.

Finally putting into perspective how long his legs are. Cramping them up, and sitting uncomfortably beside you. An adorable little giggle escapes your mouth, and he turns to glare at you, “You think this is funny? Why in the world do you have this tiny little car?”

“It’s adorable,” him squished up in the passenger seat was really adorable.

“It is useless for more than one person. Where are you driving from? Oh my god, how was this even comfortable? This is terrible. Please tell me this isn’t your only car. If my daughter ever asks for one of these it’s not just a no, it’s a hell no,” the fact he was already talking about a future daughter oddly makes you tremble. “What is the purpose of these cars?”

“Some of us don’t have legs that go on for days. You know, I didn’t even get your name?”

“It’s Curtis. And you are?” You quickly give him your name, and he shakes his head no, “You should be called Grace.”

“Why is that?”

“Because, you and this tiny little car are my saving Grace. Does she even get over fifty?”

“Yes. The bags of clothes in the back aren’t helping your space. Your seat isn’t as far back as it could be. Beggars can’t be choosers though. I’m from Washington state by the way. Why do you go on a road trip every year?”

Curtis is constantly adjusting his seating. Knees up higher than was normal, and pressing up against the dash of the car. Twenty minutes wasn’t a long drive. He could do this. “Uh, just to get away. Life can come at you fast. Mine didn’t exactly turn out the way I wanted it to. Without getting too into anything, I helped a friend out. We got ourselves stuck, drifted, and somehow remained friends, and we make it work. We have to.”

“I’m not going to ask.”

“Please don’t,” Curtis looks out his window, appearing as if something was bothering him, but you didn’t want to pry. If he wanted to tell you more he could. But you know he won’t. “So New England?” Finally he looks towards you, and you gulp. Gripping tighter to the steering wheel. Oddly trying to rub your thighs together. He was handsome. Too attractive.

“Yeah, sometimes you get tired of the same thing.”

“What’s a pretty girl like you, driving all the way out here for? I’m assuming you’ve got something lined up?” His deep blue eyes coast up and down your body, noticing every tiny movement in you make with a smirk. “Is there something wrong?”

“No. No, I uh — yeah, I’ve got something. Gotta meet with them, and would uh have a place to um…to live.”

“Hmm, you’re just breaking all kinds of rules, huh?” You glance back over to Curtis, and he was still eyeing you like his prey. His legs spread as much as they could, but in this tiny car, he couldn’t get the effect he was wanting. He didn’t have to try to make you want him. You wanted him.

“What?”

Curtis chuckles, wiping his thumb and middle fingers on the sides of his beard. You reach towards the air conditioner, turning it up. “You picked me up, and the way you’re talking…are they putting you up in a house?”

“Yeah. What…what do you do in Newton?” Something had to change. The topics had to go to something else besides you. It was getting more difficult to drive and pay attention.

“I told you, I’m a mechanic. Gotta garage with my buddy, Jax. We stay busy. Blue collar work. Beats the traveling bullshit. I don’t get it. Traveling for work. Traveling because you want a vacation. On your own.”

“Did you just get off a two week road trip?”

He turns to look at you, that devilish grin still there, “I like you.”

“Why?”

“Called me out on my own bullshit quickly. A lot of people won’t do that. They say I’m too argumentative. I’m not. I’m blunt, there’s a difference. Isn’t that the damn hotel?”

“Yeah,” you respond. Turning into the hotel and the gravel crunches under your tires, and you hate that this is it. Curtis was about to make a call, and get something worked out, and this would be it. You grab your backpack, and walk in with Curtis.

He allows you to check in before stepping up to the counter, “I need a room for the night.”

“I’m sorry, sir, we have no more vacancies.”

“There’s…can I just — I guess hang out in your lobby then. I gotta call someone in the morning to help with my car, and…”

“I’m sorry, sir, no loitering. Have a good evening,” she walks off, and goes back to her seat. Picking up her phone, and letting Curtis know that the conversation was over.

“Just my luck. Damn. Thanks, here let me get you some money. I’ll…hell, I don’t know, start walking.”

“It’s two in the morning,” biting at your lip, you know this is the most bizarre and ridiculous thing you have ever done. He was nice. He was hot as fuck. And you were terrified. Not of him, but of moving here. Moving away from what you knew and into the unknown. All the warnings you push back in your mind. You had made it this far, and he hadn’t killed you.

“I know, darling. I’ve been in worse places.”

“No, I mean…I’ve got a second bed,” Curtis cocks his brow up at you, and you slowly exhale. It was okay. You needed something random and fun tonight. Needed to get out of your head, and Curtis looked like just the man. And the worst he could say was no, and you would never see him again.

“Hey, it’s fine. You’ve done plenty for me, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“Then let me rephrase it; would you like to come up to my room for a drink? There’s a mini bar.”

“You’re testing fate?”

“I see a sexy man with nowhere else to go tonight. And I want a drink with him. There’s two beds,” he gives you a bow, and you start walking towards the elevators. Everything's in slow motion. Down to the roaming eyes of Curtis. Licking his lips as he stares at you, and you are quaking.

“C’mere,” he whispers when the elevator door closes, and you walk over to him. His thumb brushes over your cheek gently. Looking into your eyes as he traces your pouting lips, “You’re shaking. I won’t hurt you, and I won’t do anything you don’t want to do. There’s two beds, remember?”

“I want to use one.”

“Then breathe,” the ding of the elevator has his hand drifting down your front, and grabbing your hand. Starting to lead the way to the room. “Key?” You hand him the key, and take your final breath. You invited him.

The second the door closes, your hand glides up his chest, settling behind his neck, “No mini bar?”

“Oh, that’s right,” he sighs when you step away from him, going to the bar to get two small bottles of liquor, “Tito’s or Jack Daniels?”

“I’ll take my chances with Jack. Join me on the bed?” He plops down, and taps on the bed. Waiting on you to join him before lifting up his bottle, “To new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,” you copy, drinking the vodka in one sip. The little bit of alcohol was giving you a bit more of a confidence boost. Looking up at him as you listen to him start to tell some story.

You lean more into him, trying to listen to his words, but it is just static. Curtis looks down at his lap, and his raspy voice moans. You check to see what he was staring at, and your hand is palming him over his jeans on it’s own accord, “Is this okay?” You ask him with a pout. Had you read all the signs wrong? He knew what you were talking about, right?

“I knew exactly where this was going when you asked me for a drink.”

“Oh,” you start to move your hand, but Curtis grabs yours with his own mitt sized hand. Placing it back over his swollen jeans, and starts your motions again. “I don’t normally do this.”

“Me neither. So lets for tonight, toss aside those pesky feelings telling us not to give into our primal needs as humans. We’ve both been checking each other out tonight, so let’s act on those needs. Okay?” You nod your head at him, adding a bit more pressure to your movement, “Why now?” He asks, groaning as he leans back on the bed. Watching you enjoy his hardening member.

“I don’t want to be the person I was in Washington. I want to have fun. Be spontaneous.”

“Mmm,” his hips start rocking into the air with your movements. When you start to undo his zippe, he tugs at your leg, guiding you to straddle him. His giant sized hands rub up your thighs and to your ass, coaxing you to start grinding on him.

“So picking up men on the side of the road isn’t a normal thing?”

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head with a smirk. Getting more into the movements, and you pull off your shirt. Reaching behind you to undo your bra, you let it fall to the floor as Curtis starts groping your tits.

“Well isn’t today my lucky day?” Sitting up in bed, he pulls you closer to him. Peppering kisses along your jaw, and creating a trail all the way to your mouth, and you whimper into him. His length was right at your core, and he was throbbing. Just as needy as you. “You know what you’re doing.”

“Curtis,” you whine as your hips gyrate over him. Making a mess of his pants already. It had been awhile since you had sex. He had his thick fingers gripping the spears of your ass, and pressing you harder on him. “Do…do you…” you can hardly speak from the kisses he was continuing to assault you with.

“I always carry protection, don’t worry.”

“Curtis, you’re hard.”

“And you’re wet. What are you going to do about it?” He gives both your nipples a quick pinch, and your movements pick up. Riding on top of him like your life depended on it.

“I wanna come.”

“Just like this, little lady?”

“Uh huh,” biting at your lip, you pout at him as you move.

“Then make yourself come. Enjoy yourself. I’m not a little boy, I can hold off,” he lets out a guttural moan when you circle your hips over him. Guiding his hands to your tits, wanting him to play with you while you get off.

You are soaked, and so close. Right there. Hands on his shoulders as your desperately rub one out over him. Fire courses through your veins, and your movement stutters as the sweetest pleasure races through your veins.

“Thatta, girl,” reaching into his pocket, he pulls a packet out, and reads the expiration date, “Still good,” you crash your lips into his. Hands rubbing over him before pushing off his jacket, while he yanks your jeans open.

He flips you over onto the bed, and stands up. Watching as you struggle to tug your jeans off, but Curtis reaches towards them, yanking both the jeans and panties off at once, hissing when you spread your legs apart.

“Good fucking, girl,” he walks out of his jeans, his cock making his boxer briefs look uncomfortably crowded. He gives you a wink when he pulls his underwear down. A thick and heavy cock springs up, and you yip, your legs starting to close.

“You changing your mind already?”

“No,” you wanted him. Wanted this. But that cock was thick. Almost able to envision the severe stretch he was going to give you.

“You can take it. And if not, I can make it fit. We can stop any time, okay?” You nod your head, trying to steady your breathing, “I need your words. I need to know that you can stop me if you want to stop.”

“Yes. We can stop at any time,” Curtis pops the packet in his mouth, giving the foil a tear. His lithe fingers place the rubber on his tip, and he starts to roll it on. Pressing his knee on the bed, he gives your leg a jerk down the bed, before his wide body kneels between your thighs.

Spitting on his Hanford before roaming his fingers through your folds, “You are drenched. When did you first get wet?”

“Well…”

“It wouldn’t have been in the car, would it? I saw you moving your legs,” he pushes two fingers into your weeping cunt while his palm stimulates your clit, “Oh my god. What a tight little pussy we have here. You hear that?” He pumps his fingers into you more vigorously. Your wet heat was making the most vulgar and loud squelching sounds.

“You are a sloppy, little one. Did I make you that wet? Oh god, you need to be fucked good and hard, don’t you?”

“Yes, please,” you beg. It had been too long. Almost two years. One bad breakup had turned you away from men, but now he had you turning into a big slut. His cock forgotten as he tries to ruin you. Sex before was all about your boyfriend. Curtis wanted your pleasure first. “Please, Curtis.”

“She’s polite, too. Oh, fuck, she’s a juicy one. Mmm, I already feel you squeezing me. Come on. Uhh, come on,” his fingers curl, and he sets off at an earth shattering speed. You try to close your thighs when you can’t take anymore, but Curtis shoves them back apart. “Come on. Give it to me. When you come, I’ll fuck you. You can do it. Come for me. You're so close.”

Your hands grab onto the comforter, and you grit your teeth, not wanting to be too loud. And when you squirt onto his thighs, he keeps pumping. “There ya go! There’s a good fucking girl. Just like that.”

“Oh fuck.’

“That’s what I’m going to do,” getting closer to you, he slaps his cock over your clit, “You still want this?”

“Yes, please.”

“She is well behaved,” your mouth goes slack as Curtis pushes through your entrance. Slowly splitting you open as you whimper. “Holy shit. My god, you’re a tight little thing.”

“Don’t stop,” you plead as he slows his motion. “All the way, please,” Curtis continues his journey into your body. Not stopping until he slides all the way in. You lift off the bed, staring at where the two of you connect. “What are you doing?”

“I’m giving your cunt a moment to stretch, little lady. You okay?” You furrow your brows, biting your lip as you nod. “You never had a big dick like this?”

“It’s like a fucking traffic cone,” Curtis’ eyes close as he chuckles at you.

“A traffic cone?”

“It’s so much bigger at the base. How…how did you get it in there?”

“And looka here,” his hand rubs over a bump on your stomach, “You feel me all the way in your belly, huh? That right there is where I’m at. So you want this traffic cone to fuck you?”

“My god, yes!”

“Mmm,” his hands rub up and down your thighs. Giving the tops of your legs the sweetest little tickles before sliding to the backside of your knees. Lifting your legs before slamming them on the bed beside your body. Keeping you good and spread so he can watch himself spear into you.

His thrusts are slow and deliberate. Drawing himself all the way out before plunging back in. Your hands hold onto his wrists, and you make the most beautiful desperate sounds. Scratching down his forearms when he picks up his speed. It felt as if he was pounding his entire weight into you. Bouncing you further up the bed.

He would love to see you riding his cock, but your pitiful little whimpers and whines of his name have him addicted. You are reactive. He gets to see your tits rock with the pounds into you. He didn’t do this shit. And after the year he had, it was what he needed. He needed this warmth. He hadn’t felt more alone and all while he was with someone, and you were just what he needed.

He hadn’t felt this wanted in a while. Sex was treated as more of a chore. Not this desperate need to get off. It hadn’t been exciting. It was predictable. It was when she needed it. But you are receiving every bit of him. With the way you are pouting at him, and keeping your eyes only on him, he knows he could have you doing whatever he wanted you to.

Completely into a submissive role, and you didn’t even know him. “Curtis!” Your whispered screams are giving him life. The walls of your cunt flutter around him making him completely weak. He wanted to keep you around. Newton wasn’t too big. But just one night was never going to be enough.

“Curtis!” Whining out his name as your head tilts back.

“You keep…keep squeezing me like that, and I’m not — not going to last,” he pants out. He had never felt someone react like this. “Let go, little darling. Let go for me.”

Your pussy quivers, and legs tremble as the hardest orgasm he has ever witnessed from a woman flows through your body. You clench around him, and his forehead collapses on your shoulder. Letting your pussy milk him dry. Hugging every part of him perfect, convulsing around him so hard that he didn’t have to fuck you. Your walls make sure every drip of his spend fills up the condom, and he can only deeply breathe on you.

“That. Was. Incredible. You breathing?”

“Barely,” you choke out. “How many condoms do you have?”

“Sorry. I just got the one. Whew,” he sits back up in the bed, and slowly pulls out of you. Your cream coated his length so thickly. “My god. Oh my god. I didn’t want to leave you.”

Leaving your legs spread, your eyes start to drift closed. He figures you have been driving for a long time. You look so peaceful, comfortable. Letting your gaping hole be fully visible for him to gaze at. When he starts to lay on the other bed, you jolt up, “Sleep in this bed.”

“There’s two beds.”

“Then we’ll sleep in that one. This one is messy,” Curtis shakes his head with a smile. Pulling the blankets down in the other bed before picking you up bridal style.

“Fine, you twisted my arm. I need you to have at least panties on. Where’s a clean pair?”

“Backpack,” he pulls on his own underwear before bringing your backpack over to you. “Where are you going?”

“You need water. Panties. Then sleep.”

“Okay,” you even shimmy your shoulders. It didn’t take much to make you happy. He definitely wanted to see you again. Maybe start from the beginning and take you out on a date. Spend some time together before he tells you about his complicated life. But for tonight, he was just going to lay down beside you.

Sending a text to Jax, he crawls in the bed with you. He didn’t know why you are so comfortable, but holding a soft woman for the night isn’t something he was going to complain about. He was just going to let you sleep. Rest. Tomorrow was a new day.

Pulling into the beautiful home, you crumple up that piece of paper, and toss it into the floorboard. You knew it was too good to be true, and are slightly annoyed for getting your hopes up. He was a man that you picked up on the side of the road, and had the best sex of your life. Curtis was generous enough to leave his number on the pad of paper at the hotel, but you woke up alone. Nothing was stolen, so you are thankful for that, and that you are still alive.

And now it was back to the reason why you were here. A ridiculously large house, and what waits inside. They had to be rich. A well dressed woman, holding a baby, swings the door open wide. Her arm flails around as she waves to you, “Oh my gosh! I was so scared that you wouldn’t come, and you are early. Come on, please. Hey,” she gives you a strong handshake, and then makes her baby wave to you.

“Ah!! I’m so glad to finally meet you. I’m Tati, and this sweet, beautiful, perfect, and angelic little thing is Poet. But she will also go by Poe. Poe, can you say hey,” the baby babbles a bit, but a hey does come out. “So, I know this kind of a last minute thing. We gotta wait on my…husband. I’m having to fly out unexpectedly. Oh, but don’t think that you have to definitely take the job. My parents said they can help. He’s taking the day off. Uh, so first things first, if you say yes, you will have the pool house. It’s a fully functioning house. I don’t travel too often, but a fair amount. The times that I do, at night, her daddy will have her.”

“Dada,” Poet whispers. She giggles a bit before hiding her face on her mom’s shoulder. Slowly peeking over at you grinning, and you give her a sweet smile.

“Obviously the whole house you will have access to. Poet’s room is downstairs. Your background check is impeccable, you’re up to date with your immunizations, speak French. Honestly on paper you’re perfect, so I’m expecting you to have some flaws somewhere. Anyways, ahh! Sweet girl, guess who is here?” She looks out the window, smiling down at her adorable baby.

“Dada! Aye!”

“Yay!! Daddy is going to be with you all day today. How exciting!”

“Aye!” She claps her hands. Her mouth moving with no words. She was a daddy’s girl.

You turn towards the door with Tati, and your heart drops. In walks the sexiest man that you have ever met. The man that you could still feel all over you. The man that had left you early in the morning, leaving you alone. The man who was your possible employer’s husband.

“Curtis, I hate to do this. But I got called out at the last minute. You know. Anyways, thank you for taking the day off. I’ll be back in two days. If you decide you want the job, Curtis can give you all the lock codes. I left a list of Poe’s medicine’s and allergies on the fridge. Emergency numbers on the hall calendar. There’s a book with all the main contact numbers on it, but Curtis can show you everything else. Eeee!! I hope you decide to stay. Poe can’t quit looking at you. I think that she likes you. Anyways, bye my sweet angel. Ah, you’re such a saving grace. Thank you so much. Bye.”

She gives Curtis a kiss to his cheek before grabbing her suitcase by the door. Continuing to blow kisses to her baby as she walks out, and you and Curtis are left staring awkwardly at one another.

“Dadadadada.”

“I’m her daddy.”

“Mhmmm,” that much was obvious. What wasn’t obvious was that he was married as he was fucking into you last night. You even gave him in the middle of the night head, and he fingered you back to sleep.

“Oh, so we’re going to be like that now? I had you saying please all night last night.”

“Ugh,” this was a bad idea. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Nothing was going to be different here. It was always going to be the same.

“Can you at least let me explain? You gotta. Look at this beautiful girl. Poet Isabella, can you tell Grace, please?”

“Peas,” she whispers, her chunky little legs kicking around.

“You can’t say no to that. When you said please, didn’t I listen?” He might have listened, but he left out that he was married. He was fucking married to your maybe employer. He was married, and he was inside of you.

“This…this is very different and you know,” he shrugs his shoulders. Walking over to a fenced in area, and he sits his daughter down. His eyes looking at her, completely ignoring you. “Fine. Explain.”

“What happened to those manners?” Oh, he was an asshole. You didn’t have to listen to this. Didn’t have to put up with this, and then he purposefully places his left hand where you can see it, and you sit down on the couch.

“Please, explain.”

“Thatta girl.”

Masterlist

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