#ive gone off the deep end . again

[woantohae]

Total eclipse of the heart || (Bob Reynolds x Polaris au! reader x The Void)

Summary: The team has decided that Bob should take a break for a while after what happened, in a house away from everything. To that end, they've taken turns watching him, but Bob only seems to like Y/N's company.

Author's note: This is Part IV of the Thunderbolts series I'm writing with Bob. I need more stories with him, but I'm sure there will be more when the movie comes out, so we'll have to wait and see.

Content warnings: fluff, light angst, void being obssesed with reader, Bob being a sweetheart, void catching feelings, polaris au! reader.

masterlist | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Bob opens his eyes suddenly.

His gaze meets the window overlooking the house's balcony, which he often frequents when he can't sleep. Then, he sits up in bed and rubs his eyes with his hands to remove the traces of sleep and pull the sheets off his body. His bare feet touched the carpeted floor and he moved out of the room, heading down the stairs.

The team had decided to take him far away from New York City and the memories of all the mess he—or rather, his other evil entity—had caused. Bob had agreed to the idea of ​​getting away for a while and trying to clear his head. The only condition was that once a week, a member of the group would check on him to see if everything was okay.

So far, Yelena and Bucky had already gone to see him. So, thinking about the fact that Y/N could be arriving soon made Bob feel calm and at the same time nervous about seeing her. It was no surprise to anyone that he preferred the girl as his favorite member of the group; from the first moment they noticed their interactions, they could tell the man's preference for her.

He really likes Y/N.

We really like Y/N.

That voice haunting him again.

After what happened with Valentina and the team fighting his other self, Void has been more present than ever. Especially when she comes or when he senses Y/N is about to arrive. Like now, when he hears three knocks on the front door.

The man rushes to the door and takes a deep breath before opening it to find a smiling Y/N.

"Hey Bobby," she greets him.

"Hi Y/N. It's good to see you here," he says, shifting his body so she can go in first. Then he closes the door, his gaze never leaving the girl. "Is everything okay with the others?"

Y/N turns to look at him, smiling slightly. "Everything's fine," she says, placing her hands in the pockets of her green jacket, "although it's not the same without you."

Bob blushes and laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"That's uh... uh... good?" he says.

The truth is, she makes him nervous, like when he first met Linda. It had been a while since he felt that way; it was an effect that not even drugs could overcome, remembering how good it felt.

"Did you have breakfast?" she asked, walking into the kitchen. Bob shakes his head and approaches as well. "I can help you with that," she says with a smile.

The girl moves her hands and uses her powers to begin taking out the cutlery and a metal bowl to start cooking something. Bob still finds her handling of her powers fascinating, wondering if he'll ever have full control of his own.

A pleasant silence falls over them, the only sounds being the tapping of forks against the plate and the kettle indicating the water is ready. Bob walks over to turn it off and start making coffee while Y/N finishes making the pancakes. The moment feels so domestic that they both take advantage of it, spending the entire morning getting to know each other a little better.

And perhaps deciphering feelings that they thought would be impossible to feel again.

They had spent the entire day immersed in each other. Bob had told her things about his past, just as she had told him. They had realized they had several things in common, which made them feel complicit when it came to admitting their secrets and memories.

The night witnessed the knowing and lingering glances they cast on each other when they thought they weren't being watched by the other. Y/N had caught Bob's curious, tender eyes on her a couple of times, which only made her smile shyly and feel a blush creep into her cheeks. She thought Bob was an incredible person, and even though she didn't know him perfectly, she was certain of it.

And she had all the time in the world to do so, like tonight, for example.

"So, you fought with the Avengers against a purple Mad Titan?" he asks, frowning at the crazy memory.

She laughs and nods. "Yeah, twice. The first time we didn't make it, and the snap happened, and we all disappeared," the girl explains, playing with Bob's Rubik's Cube as they look out at the landscape from the roof of the house. "But it only lasted a couple of minutes until they brought us back, and we fought again, this time defeating Thanos. Thanks to Tony."

"The Tony Stark?" he asks in amazement, and she nods "That's amazing."

"That's when I met Bucky. Well, a couple of years ago, when this whole Sokovia Accords thing came up," she shrugs. "We fought on opposing teams led by Tony and Steve. It was my first time trying to participate in something that was considered good."

Y/N is quiet for a moment, a look on her face as if she's internally debating whether to share another important part of her life.

"And then I met Dieter."

Bob mimics her silence and swallows as the girl's face falls for a moment.

"Dieter was the one from...?" he ventures to ask, remembering the boy who appeared once they were in the void.

She makes a sound with her mouth, nodding her head.

"Dieter was a great friend," she admits, and stops moving the cube in her hands, feeling a chill run through her body. "He was someone who helped me when I was alone, and when I kept getting into trouble. Never left my side, even though he knew how dangerous it was to be with me."

Y/N looks down for a few seconds and swallows to relieve the pain forming in her throat. Bob notices this and the goosebumps forming on her arms, so without a second thought, he takes off the navy blue sweater he's wearing and gently touches her arm.

"Oh, it's okay," she says, laughing slightly.

"You know it's not," he says softly.

Y/N stares at him and lets Bob pull the sweater over her head, gently adjusting it on her body. It's bigger than it looks, and her nostrils instantly smell Bob's perfume, feeling the warmth of the garment immediately embrace her.

Bob remains in a short-sleeved shirt and crosses his arms.

"Now you'll be cold," she mentions, noticing the gesture.

He shrugs and dares to try flirting with her.

"Next time you can return the favor," he says, looking into her eyes.

Y/N raises an eyebrow and the corner of her lips lifts in a smirk.

"Next time, huh?" she asks, connecting her gaze with his.

The girl ventures to rest her head on the brunette's shoulder, making him freeze and feel his heart pounding, hoping she won't notice so easily. Then she wraps her arm around his and allows herself to continue appreciating the scenery.

"Next time, then," she promises.

Neither of them wants the moment to end, so Y/N asks a question to continue the conversation between them.

"Have you been okay?" She feels Bob let out a heavy sigh.

"You could say so," he answers, uncertain about the matter. He's not sure how he feels either. "Sometimes I spend sleepless nights afraid I'll lose control again. Or I can't stop moving just to have something else to think about. I wasn't as lost when I was on drugs as I am now."

She listens intently and steps away from him to get a better look. The man clenches his jaw and continues staring straight ahead.

"I'm a lost cause," he admits with a bitter taste in his mouth. "I always have been, and I always will be. I couldn't quit drugs, I lost important people because of my damn head and that damn other me that tries to consume me every day. I lose control and it's like I'm not me and... it doesn't matter if I try if I can't even take control of myself."

Y/N looks at him, sympathetic. She knows what it's like to feel that way and hates seeing him dejected by it.

"I'm lucky you and Yelena were there, and Bucky decided to trust me, and the rest too. But I still feel like I'm not worth it. I don't think I will."

Y/N licks her lips and places a hand on the man's cheek, making him look into her eyes.

"You are worth it. And you're not a lost cause," Y/N assures him in a firm voice. "We all go through it on the team, but at the end of the day, we were able to make it happen. It's up to us to change that, even if we have to take small steps to achieve it."

Bob looks at her, and his gaze softens.

"You have us to keep you company," she tells him with a slight smile. "You have me, too. And I'll make sure you don't forget why you've been doing this in the first place."

The brunette lowers his gaze to the girl's lips and thinks about how much he wants to kiss her, knowing that she will be with him throughout this entire process.

"You want to kiss me, huh?" she asks, amused, and he blushes, realizing he thought it out loud.

"I mean... well, it's not that I want to kiss you. Well, yes, but... I mean..." he stutters and freezes by the action of the girl.

Y/N kisses his cheek for a few seconds and pulls away to look at him again.

"I understand," she says, then lets out a sigh and gets up. "I think it's best to go to sleep, what do you say?"

He nods and jumps up, picking up the Rubik's Cube piece. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sleep, of course."

Void was awake.

He wandered aimlessly through the halls of the house, each step heavier than the last.

He was tired of being locked in his own darkness; he just wanted to take control and leave the place once and for all, so he could pursue his desire to dominate everything in his path.

He was a God, someone so powerful that no one could stop him.

However, there was someone who could do it besides Bob, something the dark presence didn't like to accept. Void realized that the time he fought against the Thunderbolts in New York. That time he managed to consume much of the city and its citizens in the darkness he reigned; the entity could have done so if not for a slight obstacle that crossed his path. And it wasn't the group, nor Bob—although it had a lot to do with him when he managed to control his mind and regain total control of himself.

Void walked confidently until he entered the guest room where Y/N was sleeping. The girl slept peacefully, her breathing calm as her chest rose and fell, immersed in the world of her dreams. Her hair fell across her forehead, and Void didn't hesitate to enter the room until he stood at the side of the bed.

Ever since Bob sent him back to the dark side of himself, he never stopped watching Y/N —following her, and feeling her. It was like a magnetic force that involuntarily drew him toward her, and it wasn't her powers that did it. It was her.

Perhaps it was the power the girl could unleash once she knew what she was really capable of, which could be useful to Void. Someone almost as powerful as him at his side, even if he didn't need it, could be an advantage in trying to take control once and for all. He had so much potential, but the girl wasted it doing good.

Void kneels down until he's level with the bed and stares at Y/N, unaware of his presence beside and so close to her. He runs his eyes over every detail of her face, memorizing every mole, freckle, and spot, lingering for a long moment on her lips. Void's jaw tightens and he directs his gaze to the strand of hair falling across her forehead, smoothing it back with his fingers. Y/N stirs in bed, frowning slightly at the cold sensation of something touching her skin.

Void doesn't even flinch.

He stays in place until he sees Y/N relax her frown again and fall back into a deep sleep. He smirks and sits watching her, feeling Bob struggle to get him to leave the room and leave her alone.

He chuckles.

"Oh, Bob," he mutters to himself. "You're not the only one interested in her."

If you hurt her, I swear I'll...

"You'll what? Send me back where I belong?" he sneers, and he feels Bob fighting with all his might to return to the light. "Try it, but you can be sure as hell I'll be back. Now I'm even more eager to meet Y/N. She's a gorgeous, don't you think?"

Don't even try it.

"Oh," he says in a low voice "but i just did"

Void keeps watching her.

"And I will"

Part V

[thaatdigitaldiary]

ALL NIGHT. 3.8K WORDS. // paige bueckers. cw : fem!reader, fluff, alcohol consumption, oral, fingering, scissoring. // “with every tear, came redemption.” // beyonce.

summary. // after winning a national championship, all paige could think about was how proud you were.

ke speaks 🗣️. // it’s been a minute you guys. lemme just express how proud i am of this team, and this fandom i’ve been welcomed to🥹. not only have i met my girlfriend, some of of my bestest friends, and so many amazing people, ive grown to love writing and becoming a community. love you guys, and also thank you for 1.4k followers ❤️

You were there for it all. The ups, the downs, the highs—the lows.

But it was all worth it for the moment you saw her face in the crowd, the smile worth millions beaming on the big screen.

The roar of the crowd still echoed in your ears as the final buzzer sounded, sealing UConn's victory in the National Championship. Confetti rained down like a golden storm, and the sea of fans in the stands erupted into chaos. Your heart pounded, not just from the win, but from watching her—Paige Bueckers, your girlfriend, the star of the night—lift the trophy high above her head, her grin wide enough to light up the whole damn arena. She'd just balled out, dropping a cool seventeen points, and now she was a champion.

Your champion.

You were courtside, decked out in her jersey—number 5, of course—cheering so loud your throat was raw. When her eyes found yours through the madness, she winked, that cocky little smirk tugging at her lips.

God, she looked good when she knew she'd killed it. The team swarmed her, but she broke free just long enough to jog over, pulling you into a sweaty, bone-crushing hug over the barrier.

"We fuckin' did it, baby!" she yelled over the noise, her voice hoarse from shouting all game. Her arms were strong around you, and you could feel her heart racing against your chest.

"You did it, P!" you shouted back, laughing as she kissed your forehead, her lips warm and quick before she got dragged back into the celebration. You watched her go, your chest swelling with pride and something else-anticipation. Tonight was gonna be perfect.

-

Fast forward a couple hours, and the team decided to hit up a bar downtown to keep the vibes going. You'd gone home to change first, trading the jersey for something that'd make Paige's jaw drop.

You picked a black miniskirt, tight in all the right places, with a matching black shirt that made your tits sit just right—your sternum tat sitting pretty right in the middle.

When you met up with the team at the bar, Paige was already there, looking perfect in her dark wash jeans and graphic tee, chain peeking out just enough to tease. Her blonde hair was down, loose waves catching the dim lights, and when she saw you, her eyes widened.

"Yo, hold up," she said, stepping closer, her voice low and raspy. "You tryna leave early tonight, or sum’?” Her hands slid to your waist, pulling you in as she bit her lip, giving you that look—like she was already plotting how the night would end.

"You look good, P," you teased, running a hand down her chest. She smirked, leaning in to whisper, "Just be patient. We gon’ celebrate you tonight."

-

The bar was packed, music thumping, and the team was loud as hell—Azzi and Kaitlyn were already on their second round of shots, KK was dancing on a table, and Ice was trying to talk her down, laughing her ass off.

Paige kept you close, her arm slung around your shoulders as y'all sipped drinks and enjoyed each other. Every now and then, she'd lean over, lips brushing your ear to say something dirty or sweet—sometimes both.

"You proud of me, mama?" She asked at one point, her tone softer, almost needy under the bravado.

"Paige, I'm so proud of you," you said, turning to cup her face. "You're unreal out there. Best in the game, swear.”

She grinned, kissing you slow and deep right there in front of everybody, not caring who saw. "Love you, ma," she murmured against your lips, and your stomach flipped. The night was electric, but you were itching to get her alone.

-

By the time y'all stumbled out of the bar, it was past midnight, and the energy had shifted. The team was still hyped, but Paige's hand on your lower back told you she was ready to dip. "You wanna go to yours?" she said, her voice husky from the drinks and the vibe.

You didn't need convincing.

Your apartment wasn't far, and the second you hit the door, Paige was on you. She kicked it shut behind her, hands grabbing your hips as she pushed you against the wall, lips crashing into yours. It was messy, hungry, all tongues and teeth, and you moaned into it, tugging at her belt loops.

"Fuck, thought about you the whole time, baby," she growled, her breath hot against your neck as she kissed down it, sucking hard enough to leave marks. "You looked so good inna stands, couldn’t wait to touch you.

“Win or loss."

"Paige," you gasped, head tilting back as her hands roamed, slipping under your skirt to grip your thighs.

"You wanna get laid out, right?" Paige asks, a grin roaming across her face—her words seeming like a joke—but was all seriousness.

“Basically.”

-

She didn't waste time. Scooping you up like it was nothing, she carried you down the hall, your legs wrapped around her waist. You were kissing her the whole way, giggling when she almost tripped over your shoes by the door.

"All this giggling, you excited?" She laughed, kicking the bedroom door open and tossing you onto the bed.

You bounced once, propping up on your elbows to watch her strip off her shirt, her movements quick and deliberate. She caught you staring and smirked, taking her shirt off slow just to fuck with you. "You starin’."

"Shut up nd’ c'mere," you shot back, grabbing her by the waistband of her slacks when she got close enough. She laughed, climbing over you, and the weight of her body pinning you down sent a thrill through you.

Her lips found yours again, softer this time but still needy, and her hands were everywhere—tugging your skirt up, sliding over your skin. "You see how pretty this body is, baby," she mumbled, kissing down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone.

She pulled your skirt and shirt off you in one smooth motion, leaving you in just your bra and panties, and the way her eyes darkened made your breath hitch.

"Paige, please," you whined, arching into her touch as her fingers traced the edge of your underwear.

"Please what, mama? C’mon, I win a championship nd’ you still can’t use your words?" She teased, voice low as she kissed down your stomach, slow and torturous. "Tell me what you need."

"You," you breathed, hands tangling in her hair. "Want you fuckin’ me, baby."

She groaned at that, like your words flipped a switch. "Say less." Hooking her fingers in your panties, she yanked them down, tossing them somewhere behind her.

Then her mouth was on you, and one thing you knew—Paige didn't play when it came to this.

Her tongue moved like she'd memorized every spot that'd make you squirm, licking slow circles before sucking hard on your clit. You moaned loud, back arching off the bed, and she gripped your thighs to keep you still.

"Fuck, P… right there," you gasped, legs shaking as she ate you out like it was her last meal. She hummed against you, the vibration sending you spiraling, and when you looked down, her eyes were locked on yours, all smug and heated.

"Taste so good, mama," she mumbled between licks, and you were done for. Your hands tightened in her hair, hips grinding against her face as the pressure built, and she doubled down, tongue flicking faster until you came undone with a string of curses and her name on your lips.

She didn't stop until you were trembling, pulling back with a grin, her lips shiny and her chin wet. "That's one," she said, climbing back up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on her. You were still catching your breath, but you flipped her over, straddling her hips.

"Gotta celebrate you next, yeah?" You said, voice shaky but determined. She raised a brow, smirking like she was daring you, and you started unbuttoning her jeans, shoving them down with her boxers.

She was soaked, and the sight of her—legs spread, looking up at you like you were her whole world—had you dripping all over again.

You kissed her hard, grinding down so your wetness brushed against hers, and she moaned into your mouth, hands gripping your ass to pull you closer. "Fuck, ma, you’re pussy’s drippin’." She rasped, and you grinned, sliding a hand between you to tease her with your fingers.

"Payback, baby," you whispered, slipping two fingers inside her. She cursed, head tipping back as you curled them, hitting that spot that made her gasp. Her hips bucked against your hand, and you added a third, pumping faster while your thumb circled her clit. She was loud—groaning, swearing, chanting your name like a prayer—and it was the sexiest thing you'd ever heard.

"Shit, mama, I'm—fuck, don't stop," she panted, and you didn't, pushing her over the edge until she clenched around you, her whole body shuddering as she came. You slowed down, kissing her through it, and when she finally opened her eyes, they were hazy, full of that post-high glow.

"Goddamn," she breathed, pulling you down for a sloppy, grateful kiss. "You're too good at that."

"We ain't done," you said, smirking as you shifted, lining yourself up so you could press against her, wet heat meeting wet heat. She groaned low, hands guiding your hips as you started moving, slow at first, then faster as the friction built.

Scissoring with Paige was next—level—y'all fit together like puzzle pieces, every slide sending sparks through you both.

"Fuck, ma. pussy feels so good," she moaned, head thrown back, abs flexing as she matched your rhythm. The room was all heat and noise-skin slapping, breaths hitching, curses bouncing off the walls. You were close again, and you could tell she was too, her grip tightening, her moans getting louder.

"Paige, I'm gonna—" you started, but she cut you off, pulling you down to kiss you as you both hit that peak together, bodies shaking, locked tight as the waves crashed over you. It was intense, messy, perfect, and when you finally collapsed beside her, both of you sweaty and spent, she pulled you into her arms, laughing softly.

"Best fuckin' celebration ever," she said, voice rough but warm, kissing the top of your head. You snuggled closer, tracing lazy circles on her stomach.

"Love you, P," you murmured, and she squeezed you tighter.

"Love you more, ma. Always."

The night faded into soft breaths and tangled limbs, the championship net forgotten somewhere downstairs. All that mattered was her—your Paige—and the way she held you like you were her whole world.

🏷️ — @pboogerswbb @cherryswisherz @tndaqlifwy @sierrale8ne @janaelalfysblunt @bueckersbitch @lovegalor333 @juspeaks @flipthepaige @omg-imtumbling @xxloveralways14 @mrsarnold @wbbgetsmewetter @lupinqs @linebg0 @authentic-girl03 @melpthatsme @makethemhoesmad @ashortyluvsports @paigesbabygirl @d3arapril @slut4uconnwbb

[rafeandonlyrafe]

devotee

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, MURDER!, DARK!RAFE but also equally soft!rafe, rafe is clearly mentally fucked uppppp omds, lets just say reader is very forgiving, descriptions of blood and gore, vomiting, pregnancy, semi public sex

you pant heavily as you look around the room, knowing the sight will haunt you for the rest of your life. your clothes are splattered with blood, but not your own.

you should have known this would happen. you blame yourself as you stare at the growing pool of blood around your boyfriends body. there's no point trying to save him, he's long gone, his eyes open and eerily staring at the ceiling, but theres nothing behind them.

you feel sick, and you make no move towards the bathroom. there's no point when the room is already a mess as you lean forward and vomit all over the carpet.

“aww, baby.” rafe coos, dropping the knife to the ground as he gathers your hair into a ponytail, holding it away from your face as you empty your stomach. 

“it's okay.” his words and the hand that is stroking up and down your back is soft, completely opposite of the heinous violent act he just committed.

you're unharmed, of course. rafe would never hurt you. his obsession runs far too deep.

“he's gone now.” rafe says as you stand up, looking at him with bloodshot eyes, snot dripping from your nose that you don't bother to wipe away. 

“rafe-” you mutter. the only word that you can get out is his name.

“oh, baby.” he pulls you into his chest. you don't fight back, releasing a sob, part out of guilt for finding his hold comforting, but mostly for your boyfriend dead on the floor.

you should have known rafe would come after him. even though you broke up with rafe a month ago, he never processed that you actually weren't together anymore. it's like his brain couldn't accept it.

so when you moved on, found a new guy who you liked decent enough, it only took rafe a week before barging in and ending him, thinking he was saving you.

“i got you.” rafe says, feeling you shake against him.

you can't get yourself to pull away, even as the metallic coppery smell hits your nostrils.

“let's get you home and then ill clean you up, okay?” rafe says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “ive missed you so much baby. the house feels so empty without you.”

“rafe-” you whine out.

“shh, don't try to talk.” he lifts you up so effortlessly it takes you a moment to realize that you're now off your feet, cradled in his big strong arms. “just let me take care of you.”

you know you should run, should scream, should call 911 and tell them everything. you should feel sadder for your boyfriend. you liked him. not like you love rafe, though, so you keep your mouth shut as he carries you out of the house and into his car, gently setting you in the passenger seat. he reaches across and grabs the buckle, doing it up for you before pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

the ride home is silent, your hand held in rafes as he breaks the speed limit to get you back to tanneyhill.

“you're home now.” rafe says as he pulls into the driveway.

you wait for rafe to round the car and let you out, of course once again scooping you into his arms. you never have to open a door when around rafe, or even lift a finger if you don't want to. 

he would be the perfect guy, sweet and utterly in love with you, if that love didn't distort reality.

“where was i?” you ask. “this last month?”

“you were having some time to yourself before that asshole tried to take you away from me.” rafes face turns sour at the mention of him. “but you're back now, so we don't need to worry about it.”

of course no mention of a breakup as rafe carries you right into the master bathroom. he sets you down on the counter before turning on the bath, adding a hefty amount of your favorite bath soak.

“what if the police come after you?” you question.

“they won't.” rafe says, walking over and cupping your cheek. “are you worried about me?”

you nod. you absolutely are. you don't know what you would do without rafe. even during your “break up”, he still paid for the rent of your apartment, sent you lunch and dinner every day, and texted you the sweetest things that always made your heartbeat a little faster.

“we’ll be fine baby, i promise.” rafes hands begin to work at taking your clothes off. you don't stop him, there's no point, he's seen it all before.

rafe undresses himself next before turning the water off once the tub is mostly filled, leaving enough space for both of you to soak together.

“ready?” he questions, thumb stroking against your cheek.

another nod and rafe is placing you in the bathtub before climbing in himself. 

you dunk yourself under the warm water, needing to get every drop of blood off of you. when you come back up, the water is tinted slightly red that almost makes you throw up again.

“i have a vacation planned for us.” rafe says. “to the seychelles, but if you want to go somewhere else-”

“that sounds nice.” you interrupt him. it really does. you need to get away from the outer banks for a while, maybe longer. 

“what if we moved?” you question. there's no point in pretending that you'll ever be without rafe. a breakup is clearly impossible, and with that month away, you realize that's not what you actually want.

“to where?” rafe asks, quirking his head to the side curiously. he's always wanting to know more about how your thoughts work, needing to learn everything he can about you.

“anywhere but here. maybe europe. london. madrid.” you shrug. “i just want a change of… scenery.”

a different town, a different country, maybe a different rafe. one where you don't know anyone for him to get jealous of and “rescue” you from.

“we'll figure it out after our vacation.” rafe offers, and you nod, falling into silence as he moves closer, glad the big tub allows for it as you cuddle together, eyes peacefully closing as you rest your head against his chest.

--

the resort is full of couples, mostly newlyweds happy and smiling and kissing, so it was natural when you sat down on rafes thigh to kiss him.

you hadn't realized how much you missed his lips, his hold, his touch, his cock.

rafe clenches his thigh muscle, hands coming to your hips and pushing you down onto his thigh, your bikini bottoms barely acting as a barrier as you let out a moan.

“rafe.” you moan out, keeping your voice quiet.

you're in a secluded cabana, but couples have occasionally walked past, able to see through the sheer white curtains surrounding the plush bedding.

“right here. right now.” rafe says. 

he didn't fuck you that night you came back to him, knowing you needed the rest. he didn't last night either, your first night on the island. the flight was long and you were excited to be somewhere new, so by the time you got back to your room, your were exhausted.

“but the people-”

“if anyone looks at us, ill just kill them.” rafe says.

you know it should worry you, that your first thought is then you'll have to cut your vacation short, but as rafe bounces his thigh, all care goes out the window.

“everyone here is drunk anyways.” you still keep your voice low as rafe lays back, switching so you're underneath him. “they probably won't notice.”

“mhm.” rafe hums, pushing his hips between your legs, parting your thighs as his crotch aligns with yours, rubbing his already hard cock against your covered pussy.

“tell me.” rafe says, burying his head into your neck.

you instantly know what he means. “you're my first. you're my only.”

it's the truth. you could never imagine sleeping with another guy. rafe is all you know, and all you'll ever know.

rafe reaches down, pulling his cock out but leaving his swim shorts as best in place as he can before tugging your bikini bottoms to the side.

rafe pushes into you in one smooth motion, making you moan out as your head tips back.

rafe stills despite the urge to obliterate you, allowing you time to adjust to his cock back inside of you.

“missed this.” you whine. “i-i love you so much rafe.”

“i love you so much more baby. id do anything for you.” including kill. the words go unsaid. they don't need to be spoken aloud.

rafe begins to swing his hips, pushing into you in slow and relaxed strokes, allowing you to build up slowly.

“fuck.” you whine out. “you feel so good.”

“me?” rafe chuckles dryly. “your pussy is so warm and wet baby, it's perfect. i would stay inside you forever if i could.”

you smile up at rafe, allowing yourself to forget the past and enjoy the way he's slowly moving faster, thrusting deeper and harder into you.

rafe cups his hand over your chest, squeezing your breast before moving the bikini top to the side to set your nipple free.

he's quick to arch his back and lock his mouth around your nipple until it hardens, his tongue flicking over the bud without a care for the path just outside your cabana.

“perfect body, baby. so perfect.” rafe switches sides, moaning around your chest. “everything about you is perfect.”

“i love you.” you want to say it over and over again. you pull rafes face to meet yours, kissing him deeply. “i love you.” you repeat.

“i love you.” rafe grunts out, keeping his hips thrusting forward. “ill never leave you. you're mine. im yours.”

--

you breath in the madrid air, letting the sun warm your face as you wait for rafe to return home to your new apartment.

when you casually mentioned wanting coffee, he was out the door as quickly as he could.

“baby!” rafe calls, heading through the rooms until he reaches the balcony. the smile on his face is infectious as he hands you a cup, of course the largest size, and if you wanted more, he'd be out the door again.

“don't think i can drink all this.” you giggle as you take the cup from him.

“ill just dump the rest.” rafe shrugs. he's so much calmer now that he's out of the outer banks. you've put everything behind you, deciding to start a new the moment your plane landed.

“it's not recommended.” you say. rafes eyebrows scrunch together, trying to understand what you mean.

“im only supposed to have a cup a day, but i still need to find a good doctor in madrid. one that specializes in what im going through.”

“what…” rafe mumbles, mind working overtime. you set your cup down as he thinks, already expecting his reaction when he works it out.

“you're pregnant!” rafe pulls you into his arms, the brightest smile you've ever seen on his face as he hugs and kisses you.

“you're going to be a dad.” you whisper into his ear, feeling tears hit your shoulder.

[barnacles34]

Mr. Rager, Can I Tag Along?

Part I

Synopsis: Mr. Rager finally joins the birds in the skies. Dedicated to the song Mr. Rager by Kid Cudi.

tags: 8k, smut, so much romance, fluff, addiction, recovery, virgin Ryujin

Ryujin x Male OC

CHAPTER I: 

You might hear the birds singing flying around,

You never see them too long on the ground,

You wanna be one of them, yeah.

Cocaine toxicity. Solipsism finally vindicated. He was going to die—truly. That cloudy feeling of mind and body separation, as if the ribbons of heaven had finally let him grasp their reins, swaying him toward some version of forever happiness.

Mmmm.

He thought he’d care about dying right there in the nightclub. The shame of weakness, of collapsing with foam at the corners of his mouth—he’d truly thought he’d care more about it. But now, one worry gone, he was worriless. Life had its charm, but it wasn’t for him; he’d been walking on sticks until the very end. Now, the floor felt so right. His body sank into it, slipping slowly, as if turning to slime and merging back into the earth.

Each second, his grip over his fingers weakened, a constant slackening with every passing moment. His eyelids grew heavy, and the outline of the nightclub around him blurred. He couldn’t control his fingers anymore; he was truly sinking. When would heaven begin? When would this fantasy end? Mind-death, a complete and utter submission to the lifeless realm - he’d never recover.

The faint tingling of powder lingered at the rim of his nostrils. At least, he’d had a good high - a nice ecstasy haze along the fine columbian - before dying. Finally, his eyes closed, nerves shutting down, and he felt free, unchained from his body like a ghost.

"Stay with me!" A voice, deep and feminine.

Hm?

"Don’t close your eyes!" Again, that voice.

What?

Whatever. It was too late anyway.

"How many fingers am I holding up!?" Still images flashed through his fading consciousness, fingers held up just before his face, barely visible, though he couldn’t tell how many anyway.

"What’s your name?" He couldn't place a face on the voice, but it was distinctly feminine - separate from his inner voices.

They were trying so hard. If they’d responded any faster, he might’ve been forced to go back - to life.

Go back…

Did he want to go back?

Hell.

Mr. Rager - that’d be a good name, he thought. If he were reborn, given another chance, that’s who he’d be.

"Mr. Rager!"

What? Could the paramedic hear him?

"Mr. Rager! Come back! Fight back! Don’t go off on an adventure!"

—

Flash. Eyes open. He was alive - he was… alive.

"Mr. Rager. You’re okay; don’t make any sudden movements." A soft, padded palm rubbed his forehead with a gentle, compassionate touch. He looked up. A young woman, petite yet strikingly beautiful, looked back at him.

"What’s your name?" he asked, despite himself. Still a bachelor, after all. "My name is Ryujin." She was dressed in a way he couldn’t quite place, something different from what he expected. "I’m part-time, by the way," she said, noticing his confused look. "That’s why my clothes are different." He rubbed his forehead; it was pounding, but with a distant sort of ache, incongruous with a proper headache. “What the hell happened?” he asked, properly confused. “You went into shock, someone already administered naloxone to your body, thankfully; otherwise, you would’ve-” she abruptly bit her tongue, preventing herself from talking about a potentially sensitive topic that Mr. Rager was subjected to.

“And, by the way, this was my first call ever.” A subtle transition, a conversation starter.

He blinks, trying to relieve the soreness in his eyes, “God, I’m sorry, this is such a fucking shitty situation.” And the way he said it, that emotional self-deprecation.

She might’ve realized something, “Were you trying to commit suicide?” She asked, very bluntly.

“It’s none of your business. Thank you for the hospitality, I’ll be taking my leave now.” When he tried to take the IV fastened to his vein, Ryujin softly, with the firmest grip and tone, said, “You’re going nowhere.”

All Mr. Rager could think of were cuss words, cusses against the world, against destiny to be alive for the foreseeable future. 

A resolve to suicide is the moment the mind, at the cusp of mind-death, truly enters a dead mind. The inescapable rock-bottom, a self-fulfilling prophecy where one feels truly and utterly fastened to the floor - inhibited of all its freedoms, its happiness.

–

Mr. Rager, or better known as Min amongst his peers - not friends. At the hands of his peers, Mr. Rager sustained a traumatic head injury that tormented him with chronic migraines right from the start of it all - the drunk brawl, that he decisively lost in, at just the age of 17. 

See, Mr. Rager had not a single family member except his aunt who embezzled all the funds Rager’s parents left for him. And the last time he tried to talk with his aunt was when he sustained a knife wound on his forearm from her - a deeply tormented individual, she was locked in a home-made cage for most of her adolescence.

And, unfortunately, there’s not a single time where his life is measurably better than the year before - only getting worse until the overdose.

–

Ryujin didn’t inquire further, she was hoping somewhat that her presence might help Mr. Rager. She sat next to Mr. Rager, her hand still on the side of the hospital bed, feeling its soft fabric. Mr. Rager, still irritated, asked, “Why are you still here?”

“Cause I want to be here.” A joking undertone, perfectly acted out. In truth, Ryujin pitied him so much, her first patient, a successful businessman who tried to kill himself at the age of 29 - now that’s fucking rare, usually the cases accelerate at the age  of 50 or so.

“Why’d you take this job?” 

She replied, “Artistic inspiration.”

“Hm, fantastic idea by the way.” He was sincere about it.

“Thanks.”

“Do you have enough material now?”

“Oh. Plenty. Plenty enough.” She giggled.

“What if I don’t consent to my likeness being represented in your art - medium, whatever?”

“Mr. Rager, don’t you worry, I’ll refurbish it so much that it'll be closer to the likeness of… let’s say… me.”

“Quit the teasing,” he stated, straight to the point.

“I don’t want to.” She replied back, he was one of the few people where teasing seemed to genuinely improve their immediate well-being, and for someone like Mr. Rager - it’s huge. And, he was finally laying, no longer trying to plan an escape, on the flatbed, staring at the ceiling, observing the music player. “By the way, is this music player provided to everyone recovering?” He’s not one to mix words.

“You’re pretty smart.” She replies, a confirmation, fiddling with her torn skirt, presumably from rushing into her para-medic role.

“That’s what I owe you for?”

“Mhm.” Still fiddling, a pouty sort of face formed on her face, it was her favorite skirt.

“How do you want the debt paid?” He inquired, he’s one to never ignore the nascent attachment to his favorite items - thus, he understands: the exorbitant value placed on favoritisms. “I dunno. You’ll still owe me. Big Time.” She stared back, this time, their eyes entwined with a sort of friendliness that is almost, just almost, ethically wrong in hospital circumstances.

“Very well then.” His tired eyes kept pulling on his eyelids. Genuine sleep had seemed to completely take over his body, and yeah, that’s all the meds he’s under: naloxone, antibiotics, withdrawal medicine, and a lovely dose of morphine. “I feel new.” His voice was dozing as his intra-reflection began. As he nodded off, he felt the faint grasp of her hand, so small, yet filled with so much conviction. He’s tripping balls, but she’ll never tell him - presence was what was required of her.

And that was all the validation he needed: for sleep.

As Mr. Rager finally slept; Ryujin stayed for a bit, or about 4 hours. And, still, she’s sitting beside him - making sure that he sleeps and recovers. Just from the chance encounter of a paramedic call, she felt the compulsion to guard Mr. Rager. Poor girl, if she’d seen a dead body for her first call then she’d vomit a week’s worth onto the ground. 

After another hour, Ryujin finally decided it was time to leave. She wrote a thoughtful letter, of things that needn’t be said - obviously. But she also left a partition, finagling a creative way to demand what she’s owed. After, she let her boss know that she quit on the spot, that she’d also come back to the same room - a reservation of some sort. She left, leaving the stale, minty air of the hospital with a melancholy that wouldn’t be fixed until she saw him again. Because, when she was writing the note, she wished she asked more questions - Mr. Rager just seemed to lead on the conversation to a charming degree, that other circumstances were of lesser importance. 

Ryujin, outside, breathing in the fresh air of the summer, caught the last bus of the route. This route, passing by the road that she was taken on inside the paramedic van, also led to her apartment. Unfortunately, it’s an old, decrepit apartment where only the rudest sort of parties happen. Half the time, the floor above is vibrating thump, thump, thump from the heavy jumps, or the lower floor blasts some of the most needlessly, eardrum-breaking music.

At least she has solitude. Finally free from the dictates of those she didn’t get along with, finally separated from her friends who’d get too boring if she hung along for too long. Now, her family is charming - easy to get along with; now, her friends are always interesting - fascinating to be around. Distance is a marinating technique, or whatever.

Ryujin, the charming shut-in, finally arrived at her place, and began on her art piece. Unfortunately, there’s nothing to list that’s positive about her obsession with art. It’s the time where she vents her frustrations of being a failed trainee - rather, a placement that was restricted from becoming an idol; wallows in the misery of the color tone she loves the most: dark; and, to top it off, she gets bored of visual arts when she tries to make money off of it. Some dastardly sign from the man above, “Your hobby will stay a hobby.”

All that displeasure would be the paint upon the canvas: checkmate, mental turmoil turns to art, she thought. Swipe and swipe, the dirty colored watercolor painting had nearly no form worth thinking - almost entirely brown from the intermixing of the wet, damp color. Then the second layer, an apparition of segmentation, a deeper color, colors that entice and bite back. Then the specificity of the lines, things left unspecified were on purpose. But, this recurring thought, this pounding idea, that she left a man that fell in the depths of the void alone - really began digging into her soul. This thought unto Ad Nauseam brought her nausea that really can’t be eliminated with the will of her conscience. “I should’ve stayed, I should’ve stayed” - the recurrent thoughts that never seemed to leave her. With a sad howl, she fell to the side, crying deep, ruining all her pretty into the sheets - a room so small that her chair was the bed.

–

“I’m still alive”, Mr. Rager repeated this to himself over and over after waking up - not sure whether to feel some sort of rendered triumph. For a moment, he was truly tip-toed in the void, almost encased into the endless hope, of unrendered reality and a horrible sadness; now, he’s alive, breathing, with a full control of his body.

Nothing had caught his attention, the environment, whether there were people around him or not, only life as he knew it - coursing through his veins. The feeble thumps of his chest - his heart, still persevering.

–

Several days of this sort of morning locomotion went on, it was also the time that Ryujin came over. Poor girl brought over new confectionaries - mostly of her favorites; brought lunch boxes she herself fully funded; found ways to amuse herself and Mr. Rager during the listless hours.

“What’s the interest rate of this debt? Surely, a person like me, fastened to the bed with belts (a pure exaggeration), wouldn’t be extorted with dubious rates?”

“Mr. Rager, you’ll have to declare bankruptcy by the end of it, seriously. You owe me. Big time.” She joked back, of course, she didn’t really expect much. By her own goodwill, Ryujin was looking after Mr. Rager, an exchange of her goodwill would almost sour all her community service - again, a flash of her trait, a blithely weak trait in modern society, a subtle revulsion to being paid for her services.

Mr. Rager, however, was the opposite. Rogue-man, Rager man, Mr. Rager, a name that fits him so closely, from the early onset of consciousness, an unruly rebelliousness coursing through his veins at all times, with flourish - with the crimonest red. He’s done it all, disowning his billionaire politician parents, who still relish the thought of meeting Mr. Rager one day; losing all his wealth, gaining it back the next; then, enjoying it all on a single roulette wheel, then forgiving the casino when they couldn’t pay his winnings; and then dying for a few seconds, under the angelic influence of the so-called hellish “nose candy”. But for his closure, his preference—he’s pastless, futureless.

That’s the dilemma, Ryujin hadn’t learned a single thing about Mr. Rager that was worth pulling a strand on. Contradictory statements only confounded her further, and a reply to her joke - of bankruptcy and debt - he’d say, “I’d have to find it buried somewhere.” And she’d think, “What? What the hell? What’s buried? What’s ‘it’ ?”

Often the thought was interrupted, never fully leaving its conception—Mr. Rager wanted to keep it that way. Ryujin, often on her phone, never leaving her eyes off Mr. Rager, spent her delicate hours in the breezy, spacious hospital room.

Mr. Rager, of course alarmed, would ask - every day - “why do you visit so often?”

Then, Ryujin, really not knowing an answer, would default to a bland answer of so and so - real political talk. This procession, of nothing happening, stretching on for days was repetitive. It also made them happy. She’d put on her makeup, with her artsy hands - quick and fast. The rapidity with which she approached this situation, so contrary to all the aspects of her life - seemingly, Mr. Rager had brought vitality to Ryujin.

And in comes the day of withdrawal, the hospital withdrawal - where Ryujin and Mr. Rager resided comfortably. The door clicked softly as the nurse entered; simultaneously, Ryujin and Mr. Rager’s hairs stood up - what are they alarmed for? It was not, the nurse, no, absolutely not, the nurse was jovial, happy, thinking that she was delivering happy news.

She didn’t know that both of them found their only sources of joy inside this hospital. The nurse thought that she was relieving them of a most ludicrous bill, by ending it as soon as possible - as this hospital in particular, charges in hours, yeah, real dystopian shit. And so, it was a surprise when both the people had an almost disdainful stare towards her - it’s just my imagination, the nurse thought.

–

“Are you sure? You know overdraft schedules cost significantly more?” The nurse asked, confused, concerned.

“Yeah, yeah, I just want to stay here for one more day.” Mr. Rager replied.

“But, but - do you have any ailment? That’ll bring down the price.” 

“None at all, I just want to stay here for another day more.”

Rich people are nuts, the nurse, still, complied, letting him stay, leaving him for another day.

–

As the day progressed, Ryujin came back, again, in the evening. “Your schedule, how do you do that?” Mr. Rager was genuinely impressed with how Ryujin utilized her time, imagine his surprise when she just says, “I just skipped some stuff.”

“Alright, well, thanks for coming.” And that got Ryujin thinking, was this his first time thanking me? Which, in fact, did make her day. And, she wouldn’t dare challenge this once in a lifetime behavior - that’d be a quick way for that behavior to be stashed away, forever. Again, as soon as she entered, the atmosphere changed. 

It’s about damn time they understand the euphoric peacefulness they rouse for each other. And, today was one of the moments where Mr. Rager gives a slight glimpse of his life - the confounding ones that really led to nowhere. “I think my aversion to alcohol comes from the fact that I had kids with this chick, married this chick, bought a mansion for us to live in - and, only too late, realized that it was really the alcohol that talked.”

Ryujin’s heart sank, “what? You have kids?”

“Not anymore, don’t have custody over them anymore.” He was so unbothered, utterly unbothered.

“I’m sorry for asking, just curious—what happened to them?”

He chuckled, “No more personal questions after this, alright?”

She nodded, her beady eyes on full alert. The pillow that she borrowed from the hospital bed, on her lap. She was intently listening from the comfortable armchair. 

“I let her take the kids, she didn’t ask for alimony or anything like that—just that, on the condition that I don’t contact them ever again.” He stared at the ceiling, sorting some of it out, not sure if it was some traumatic experience. Nevertheless, he continued, “she found me unbearable after a while, and I found her unbearable as well. I was never there too: too busy with money. She probably didn’t chase after alimony because she already had a sweetheart - with money - to get back to.” With so much ease, as if he’d been through too many lifetimes - too many he can remember.

“Oh,” that’s it, that’s all the reaction she can give.

“Oh, what’s with that reaction?” He chuckled.

“I-I’msorryIdon’treallyknow-” she paused, “Hey! You’re being so annoying today.”

“Sometimes, a flipped script - like teaser gets teased - leads to masterpieces.”

“Any examples?”

“Nah, I just made it up.”

From then on, the conversations continued; the deep introspective pauses continued, listlessly; and both began to feel the drowsy effect of the combination of warm light and black-out curtains.

And a tired Mr. Rager loves beauty. 

“Ryujin.”

“Hm?” She looked back, staring at him with her doe eyes.

“You’re like marijuana.” One can say he has a way with words.

“What?” Her brows stitched in confusion.

“You’re fucking amazing to have around. But, I swore to never, nev-” He fell into a deep sleep, so contrary to his habits: he’s never fallen asleep with his own mind’s permission.

Her doe-like eyes opened farther open. Her heart began beating listlessly, skipping beats. I’ve got to leave, before I-. Yet she magneted closer to the bed, where Mr. Rager slept so peacefully. Did I do that? He’s always complaining about sleeping, yet- yet he slept so easily. She was making up all sorts of situations, scenarios, theories - none of them healthy for the mind.

And, before she knew it, under the bright moonlight radiating into the room, gentle shadows across his face, she leaned closer, letting her soft lips touch the peak of his cheekbone, causing shivers across her spine, and she thought fuck, fuck, I’m really doing it - and when that wasn’t enough - then his forehead, feeling the warmth radiating from his forehead on her lips. But no more, that’d be too much, too much.

Under her own shame, her bright flush cheeks, her dilated pupils, twin pools of dark moons: she quickly left the room, carrying all her stuff such that it’d be guaranteed to fall in the middle of the hallway, a real mess she made of herself.

CHAPTER II: 

Keep movin' forward, keep movin' forward

I'm so-I'm so reborn, I'm movin' forward

Along the way home, the realization washed over her like a molotov flame - its gentle but fiery shimmer covering the entirety of her body. And the way her heart pumped, any performative act she could do to stop it was useless - ultimately doing nothing, nada, zilch. The sound of his roaring laughter from her jokes, the curve of his smile, the messy stubble, god, she was really losing it inside the bus. Her every thought, motion, every constriction of her body - pulse and all - was consumed by him. Her legs rubbed together desperately, and the slightest, faintest moan left her quivering lips as she let her imagination go wild. 

And the fact that… that an elderly lady was behind her, judging her provocative movements, just nudged her on further - full on deviant shit.

As soon as she’d be home, she’d have a towel under her.

–

Fortunately, past the hospital departure, they wanted to see each other again - platonically. However, it’s been days, and though that may seem quite short, they’ve never been separated for more than 12 hours. 

And these days, these listlessly long days, let Ryujin know of her sympathetic entanglement, and, seemingly intensifying it. Ryujin, with her sore body, stared at Mr. Rager’s phone number on her phone - the curves of the numbers kept reminding her of everything she thought about days before (the curves of the numbers some dubious correlation with Mr. Rager). She’s about to do it again, two fingers, knuckle-deep, into her folds until she’s a drooling mess on the bed. She was already a mess to begin with, a crook in her neck, half her bed unmade, sleep-deprived.

That isn’t to say that Mr. Rager wasn’t just as affected. He never succumbed to the pleasure of the hand, but the dreams, the wistful dreams. Imagining her close smile against him, moaning soft and goading phrases right into his ear - melodiously erotic. Her soft palms against his broad back, pressing deep - trying her best to not scratch up his back. You’re fucking me so good, mm- she’s whimpering, right on your ear, fuck, shivers throughout. Then, halt. It’s the fucking alarm.

Both awake, going through their groggy morning routines to finally meet again. Would it be as magical as it was in the hospital? Would it ever be so calm?

–

The time to meet was approaching quickly. Ryujin got ready, her perfect face, judiciously given with all her perfect talents, was colored with minimal effort, any more and she’d show off her inexperience with makeup - Mr. Rager would’ve lost it all regardless. Because, she was dressed in this tight dress, the type of dress that a girl like her deserves, expensive, ornate, sexy; but, she was a special case, she’d never worn something so ornate and so revealing, and the mirror would reflect a little doe desperately pulling on the hems that revealed her taut thick thighs, the cusp of her petite bosom, and any effort to cover was an ultimately futile effort, this was something she had come to terms with, before leaving her small studio.

And, as if she were in a Wong-Kar Wai movie, she entered the bus: all glammed out in a shitty environment. And the nervous eyes in the bus quickly looked away, intimidated heavily; still, some passengers hoped that they could get a glimpse with the spasm of their pupils to her direction - that’s how good she looked.

She sat down mindfully, crossing her legs - alarmingly aware of the stares. Her face adopted a natural blush - a face too beautiful to hide. Her eyes, set beneath her delicately arched eyebrows, stared at the reflection of herself from the wide glass. She’d never be able to understand her own beauty, too often enveloped in imposter syndrome, and the only person, Mr. Rager, would be the one, who could tell her the beauty of her cascading black hair; her large eyes, accentuated by a deep-set gaze; the beauty with which she carried herself, awkward, yet enigmatically, always, the most beautiful person in the room.

Mr. Rager, gaunt from the opioids, still looked herculean, a fitful combination that fit any clothing piece. With an androgynous face that was covered with sharp eyebrows, dark under eyes, high cheek-bones, and a sort of asymmetrical face that was almost better than the conventional symmetry: in summary, he was someone you couldn’t miss. This inherited comeliness comes with its risks, from the ease of life to the women, things that Mr. Rager succumbed to in violent fashion. Other than that, his preparation was pretty rapid, hopping into his entirely dark-tinted - for obvious reasons - car and set off into the gentle night.

Ryujin landed at the closest bus point to the meeting point. Her dress was unsuited for the weather, and her body began going frigid under a chilly summer day. That’s until a black car, a mercedes s-class, stopped ahead of her. It was nothing to be worried about, she’d just pass by it, acting as if she didn’t see it. However, the figure that exited the car was all too familiar: Mr. Rager.

“Ryujin.” Mr. Rager took a look, scanning her body - making it all too obvious with his pupils - instantly realized why he’s been thinking constantly about her - she’s just the most beautiful person.

And Ryujin, the way her knees slightly folded from seeing Mr. Rager, a slight spasm in her joints - she really missed him. And her hands crossed together between her loins, her eyes opened slightly larger.

“Don’t be so nervous.” He chuckled, that chuckle, that deep chuckle - Ryujin could feel the heat in her core. “Come in, you still have a long way to go,” she gladly accepted, entering into the car: feeling the soft seats, the fragrance of the unusual smell of vanilla and sandalwood (in a car?), and the overwhelming luxury around her surroundings.

“Be sure to dial the temperature or dial whatever you need, I’m sure you were pretty cold outside.” Mr. Rager said, aware of how Ryujin is not one to engage in something without permission - only if he knew what she’d done, the moment before she left, that day. However as he talked, all Ryujin could respond with was a chuckle, she was too focused on how the sentence sounded, how his eyes placed on her face, and occasionally, how it landed on her chest. And that was just the pinnacle for her.

He couldn't stop his gaze, this fermentation of a pending calamity was bounding closer and closer, and thrilled both parties to no end - they couldn’t even hide their own temptations behind the screen of a platonic hang out. By the seconds, the passing seconds, they got bolder, he got bolder. He let his eyes wander far down, her creamy white legs, her meticulous maintenance of it all. And Ryujin was wallowing in it all, his sharp gaze made her feel warmer, wetter - enticing her to dial down the temperature, a contrast from when she was so cold outside.

Still, they’d say nothing, despite it all. The silent hum of the tire scraping against the asphalt was all the credence, the distraction, they were allowed. The rest was this endorphin-filled, endorphin-crazed environment where both of them knew that they were pushing too quickly, given the fact that this companionship began from a suicide attempt.

Still, there’s this slip of time, where they could, possibly, love each other. Though, before these exponential entropic forces caused all sorts of calamity, they arrived at the spot. This run-down complex, that hid a quaint restaurant with private rooms, was a source of nostalgia for Mr. Rager. Ryujin followed, climbing the stairs, ascending just behind him, pulling down on her dress, sticking her thighs together as she climbed (a natural precaution). The restaurant was exactly that, quaint. They entered one of the tight-fitting cubicles, where they sat across from each other, a small sitting-table separated their bodies - unfortunately.

“Don’t be too worried about this restaurant, it may be run down, but it’s a great experience.”

“Oh, no, no, I’m not worried about that, I frequent far more run down establishments than this.” As the words left her tongue, Ryujin cringed, frequent? What am I? A prostitute? Her eyebrows knitted.

“Relax Ryujin,” he chuckled, “enjoy yourself, I’ll pay for it all.”

“That’s the first step to the debt?” Ryujin grinned, loosening, gaining her natural confidence.

“Perhaps. Come on, go crazy.” There it is, that nice toothy grin, her cheeks ripple into some sort of whiskers - god, he’d do anything for that, again and again. 

The dishes came, oily dishes full of food, and Ryujin’s eyes glazed in excitement. After a brief, too quick, moment of eating, both of them leaned back - absolutely full.

“You got a bird’s stomach for your ambition, Ryujin.”

“And you’re a head taller than me, but you’re leaning as well!”

“Good point.” He chuckled, fighting indigestion through it.

“I don’t even like oily food.”

“Me too.”

This time, a collaborative laugh.

Mr. Rager paid the meager bill, leaving all the food to rot on the table - the plight of abundance.

–

“Anything you want to do today?” Mr. Rager asked, putting on his seatbelt.

“It’s really late, I really wanted to punish your wallet, you played your cards right going out so late..” Ryujin relaxed into the seat, fully comfortable, in-tune.

“Well, if you don’t have any plans. Mind if I go the reservation for us?”

“What reservation?”

“That’d ruin the surprise, Ryujin.” The ambient sound of the tires against the ground in combination with the dark night - the darkest night before morning - was an even more intense atmosphere.

This peaceful atmosphere, intense, yet peaceful, again, just like the hospital visits. This interesting continuation of happiness, so foreign to his life, was something that he could get used to. His forearm pressed against the storage compartment, letting his hand spill over; his other arm was loosely steering, as loose as the gentle dark night. 

As he trailed the road, occasional peeks at Ryujin showed her transition to sleep: drowsy eyelids that infrequently close for periods of time, then, longer periods, then, sleep. 

Who was this angel? This angel that wrought Mr. Rager all manners of hope, of happiness, of reflection. If he hadn’t been so stubborn about his affliction towards personal information, maybe, just maybe he’d understand her more, this girl - so beautifully clad in a flowery dress.

Is this love, this elusive feeling? How could it be so cruel? So cruel as to bring it to me at a time so random, and so heavily…

Again, he forgot his bad habit: speaking his thoughts out loud.

He realized too late, and he could feel her large eyes staring at him, confused. 

Yet, and yet, he felt the gentle warmth of another palm on his forearm - a reassuring grip.

“Min, I love you too.”

CHAPTER III: No Longer Mr. Rager

I want to kiss you on your space below your navalette

The place you keep so neat, so moist like a towelette

Ryujin, her beautifully beady eyes looked at you, as she lifted your forearm, planting little kisses all over it.

“Oh Ryujin.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that, Min.” A statement that left her lips as she continued worshiping his forearm.

Jesus, this woman.

He pulls into the closest parking spot, giving not a single fuck that there were a few cars there - all likely empty, anyway.

And, with all pretenses and courtesy removed, the forearm that was so judiciously worshiped, wrapped around her nape, pulling her into a searing kiss. That deep moan, that accepting moan as his mouth opened against hers. He almost forgot the most essential question - suddenly, slightly pulling away from the kiss.

“How’d you find out about my name, Ryujin?” Min asked.

“A woman doesn’t disclose her secrets, besides, how could my love not have a name?” Cheesy, feisty, what a woman.

“Good point.” Another searing kiss, dynamic, evolving, every step more depravedly romantic than the previous.

He was pretty sure that he’d break something, in the middle compartment, that separated you from total body connection. Again, you pull away, this time, it brought out a desperate whine out of her, her arms that wrapped desperately around you kept pulling you in - like a vortex.

She understood the memo as soon as he exited the car - love connection. This time, with a wider space, still constricted, was the best they could do, and they’d relish this extra space. Min, naturally assumed dominance over Ryujin, her body acclimated against his aggressive pulls and pushes - all for the pleasure of Ryujin, and she didn’t take it lightly, each breath heavy with the densest pleasure. Oh, oh, oh, keep manhandling me. She’d whisper. And he’d obey.

As Ryujin, with her tight dress, splayed against the seats on her back, took initiative to take off Min’s clothes, button-by-button. “Oh I’ll fuck you so good, Ryujin, so fucking good.” He’d repeat, over and over, and Ryujin would get more aroused by each iteration: “Yes, yes! Please.” Occasional soft bites were felt all over his collarbone, his neck, his earlobe. “Possessive little bird, I’m not going anywhere.” He caressed her head, making sure that he’d also mark her, a heavy hickey on her neck.

And Ryujin fucking loves it, she softly caresses him, soft grasps against his back, locking her taut legs around him, begging for continuations. And, Min would obey, in his own rebellious way, tightly grabbing her breasts - hidden behind the dress - then pressing kisses all over her neck, nearly all of them hickeys. 

“Fuck the reservation,” he grunted, it was an expensive reservation, but he doesn’t give a fuck: Ryujin’s right under him, begging for him to ravage her taut body. And she replies, “That’s right, that’s right, mister, master!” The end of her sentence was capitalized by Min’s heavy grasp on her breasts.

“That’s right, little bird.” Low grunts against her ears, his thick shaft, covered, grinded against her body, while his mouth assaulted hers.

And she cums, her head turns up, looking wherever - straining her neck - to release her pleasure. “Ngghhh!!!” A heavy whine, so enthusiastically human, straining against the seats that held her back. “Holy shit! That was so amazin-” enough talking, he’d motion, locking mouths together.

Silent moans, “mmmf..” hummed against his tongue, Ryujin was so turned on, and he’d love to fulfill all her wishes. Each rotation of his hip against hers were accentuated by Ryujin’s deep moan, squeaky moans, the moans that she couldn’t hide by covering her mouth. His hand, fixed onto her breasts, finally ventured below, feeling her lithe abdomen - the slightest abs - then letting his hand rest on her pelvis, just above her pussy. 

He finally released himself from the hypnotizing kiss, staring at her body - mostly still covered by the dress: now, that, won’t do. He pulled on the bottom hem of her dress, revealing her wet core, an embarrassed squeak along with it all. “You’re so fucking hot, Jesus,” he had a taste of what her body looked like, and he just can’t get enough. All precaution thrown out the window, the expensive dress was about to be ruined, and Ryujin - ever resourceful - seemed to allow it. He pulled the upper hem of the dress down, breaking the straps that could’ve been removed easily - this is a statement, I own you - Ryujin seemed to get the memo - all beady and begging.

Her soft breasts, creamy, smooth, with pink nubs spilled out from the tight dress. He pressed both his hands, all over her body, exploring the transitions from her taut skin to the scrunched dress, making sure to remember every facet of it all. “How badly do you want it?” He whispered, wholly focused on her body, subtly noticing her wet core, the outline of her pussy growing clearer by the second. And Ryujin didn’t even have to answer the question, locking her legs around his waist, frantically trying to get her hips on his covered shaft - yeah, she’s fiending for it.

And Min, ever the indulgent, gently moved and hovered his hand over her neck, waiting for that confirmation, that wink, that nod - and, Ryujin, calming down from the intense pleasure, nodded. That first grasp, tight, measuring her tolerance, measuring just the moment when the eyes go back to her eyes - and he seemed to completely pinpoint it, that slight spasm of her body, and her inner thighs are just soaked.

Finally, Min decided it’s time to give her sopping cunt some attention. Peeling the layer to the side, wet with the highest arousal, hid her bright pink core - and it, her core, was begging to be sated, pulsing, glistening, beautifully fragrant.

Firstly, he let a single finger prod, then entered. And Ryujin was already shaking, her eyes went straight to the back of her head, and her neck vascularized - all veiny - from the soft choke. It would’ve been too cruel to give her too much pleasure, so he took his hand off her throat, instead, patting her head - letting her know that she's doing so good, so good. 

In and out, motion of the ocean, slick covering his finger the deeper he went, earning the most virile moans out of her cute mouth. “You like that, huh?” He dug deeper, until his knuckle - a loud moan. She had never felt anything like this, her two fingers could never compare, and she’s a virgin after all, and she’s about to get deflowered in the backseat of a car - and, she loves it. 

In a swift motion, where Min continued his manhandling of Ryujin, he pulled his finger out - in a hook motion to agitate her g-spot, earning a girlish yelp - then, let Ryujin taste her own juices on his finger.

“You’re doing so good.” Min whispered, so overly joyed by Ryujin, how her petite body convulsed in pleasures beyond what he could ever imagine.

“I know.” Ryujin replied, defiant to the end. She knew exactly how this inspired him to be rougher - and she loves it. He gripped her waist, gripping harder, letting her firm abdomen mold against his grip, dug deeper into her cunt, placing his thumb over her engorged clit. One. Two. Three motions around her clit, three motions of his finger into her cunt - before she squirted onto the side window, far more girlish yelps, and desperate panting. This time, Min with his wet hand, spread it all over Ryujin’s face - the essence of her arousal, via his hand, spread on her face, where makeup was placed so thoughtfully, only to be ruined by her own squirt. She’s panting amidst all this, unable to process anymore than her overwhelming second orgasm. 

“You’re a fucking mess, Ryujin, cumming this quickly?”

“You made me this way…” She huffed, “you fucking brute.”

This time, all Min does is press against her pelvis - specifically, the pelvic bone, where just below is her g-spot, and the slight pressure, was absolutely deadly. All the while, he declared, “That’s right, little bird. I’ll press you against the seat, face-down, slam into your ass with all the force I can muster - then, when I’m deep, too deep, cervix-level deep, I’ll release all my cum into your precious little womb.”

“Nghhh~~!” And another squirt, where her legs closed together, toes curled, and her head hung back. While Ryujin was trying to recover, Min placed a quick and wet kiss on her lips, but that'd be the only romanticism that Min allowed her. Quickly, he let her sit up, pulling her by her thin wrists. Then, he pulled down his own pants - letting his shaft free from the restraints of his tight clothing, the painful onset of an early blue balls in its conception, that was only fuel to the fire to fuck Ryujin good, and hard.

“Sit on my lap facing me, Ryujin.” He demanded. And no matter how much Ryujin came, squirted, panted, and yelped - she’d always oblige in Min’s demands. She quickly hooked her other leg over him, in a hovered position rather than sitting. This time, he passed his fingers through her wet hair, letting it pass behind her ear, “safe word is Mimetic,” and he earned a soft nod from Ryujin, and consent to batter her sopping, wet, sticky, engorged pussy.

He slithered a hand around her waist, holding her in place; then, placed his other hand around her neck, just on the nape. He pulled her in for one last kiss. The last bit of eye contact before penetration, and all that could be seen in Ryujin’s eyes - beady and all wet from pleasure - was a fiending desire to be fucked silly.

Slowly, he let her descend, right up until his tip kissed her wet folds. She winced from her sensitivity, just from the touch. And that’s when it flashed in her eyes, she wasn’t sure if she was ready, given the fact that she hadn’t told him about her virginity. Before she could realize her thoughts through speech, she felt the intense heat of something foreign entering - something so thick and large - and it wrought every emergency signal in her brain - all of them, positive. “Oh–OH, fuck…” is all that Ryujin squeaked out before he pushed in deeper, feeling her gentle pussy wrap around his shaft - all wet and moist. A constant sizzling whisper could be heard from Ryujin as he buried his cock deeper, until, halfway in, where she let out a deep moan. “Holy fuck,” she moaned again, deeper. Holy fuck is right, her body was so resistant, tight right at the start to the end, yet, the way it also sucked his shaft into its wet folds - Min was already addicted.

“Ryujin, you’re so tight.” He said as he kept nudging Ryujin to move farther down, waiting for her glistening pussy to completely wrap around his shaft - then, eventually, completely devour her in the backseats of his own car. Yet, as he went through it with her, he began clueing in on the note - Ryujin is very.. Too sensitive. Why Ryujin focused on getting herself down, skewering herself on his length - desperately breathing, her chest dilating in and out. Through it all, as Ryujin tried to, adorably, hide her inexperience, Min pressed a compassionate kiss right into her mouth. 

“I love that. The fact that you’re so horny for a virgin.” He whispered against her mouth, breathing hotly, immeasurably hard.

And Ryujin needn’t respond at all, all she needed to do - well, did - was reach out with her tongue for his mouth, with those prey eyes, begging to be taken, testing her fickle fate - a sign that he needed to kiss her, devour her, again and again until hell freezes over. And finally, during the desperate haze of a reunification of mouths, he finally buried himself straight to the hilt, in her pink, glistening, sopping, beautiful core. And slowly, the wet sounds of sex, so blatantly loud in this claustrophobic environment, reverberated inside the car; the wet sounds of her moans covered this hazy atmosphere, coming from her lips that detached from his mouth, streaks of saliva still connecting them both; and that feeling, this mutual feeling of utter bliss, how her back bent - contorted - into every pump.

They couldn’t stop staring at each other, two perverts, two soulmates who couldn’t go for a second without looking at each other. Even when Min pushed up harder, letting his full length pass through her virginal hole, they still maintained that sensual eye contact - that essential eye contact.

“You fuck me so good, Min.” Ryujin said as her two small breasts jolted from every pump, every contraction of his length leaving her one step closer to ruin - until her eyes went back to that dangerous place, that orgasm line. And the resulting pressure, that heavenly pressure, pressed against his shaft so strongly, that his tight-lipped mouth let out a few growls of pleasure, a sign that he’s close to painting her womb in baby batter. 

Ryujin, ever the caretaker, felt the convulsions, and began pressing desperate kisses over his face - anywhere she could reach, whilst patting him on the back. And Min would never admit he liked it, that he loved it, and he didn’t need to admit it, Ryujin already knew. 

And she knew exactly, that this was the final straw that she needed to break before she was filled with his essence, the catalyst of that final convulsion. Min immediately seized, grabbing Ryujin in a bearhug - one that could’ve bruised her - and pumped hard, that final wet sound of sex, before, rope after rope of release entered deep inside her, splashing against her cervix, filling her womb.

“FUCKKK!!” He growled, he hadn’t felt this good since ever. And the same for Ryujin, who cried a leaky yelp, where her last bits of squirt flowed down the slightest nook from their love connection. They were static for a moment, relishing in the deviant copulation they engaged in, where, almost, the condensation of their lovemaking was visible in the air of the car.

“I love you.” She kissed him again, staring all lovey-dovey, as if her pupils had gone and turned into hearts.

“I love you.” He stared at her, happy, smiling.

“I love you more.” She added, exaggerating her laugh, trying to tease.

“I concede.” He replied.

“Heyyy! You’re supposed to say it back!” “I’m more for physical demonstrations. Wanna see?”

“Uh no. Please. It feels like it's about to fall off.” She was mentioning her pussy, all swollen and gummy to the eye.

“I love it, it’s so beautiful.” He replied, fully serious, digging his mouth into her neck, he was absolutely crazy about her.

“Min, I gotta take a shower, you’re being gross-” that’s when Min pressed a finger onto her - still engorged - clit, and proceeded to say, “I’m fucking crazy about you.” 

“Ngh! Stop! Seriously, it’s about to fall off.” Unfortunately, the collected accumulation of their love juices swiftly dripped down as Ryujin jolted back from him touching her clit.

“Isn’t this gonna stain your car until the end of time?” She stared at the significant puddle of who knows what.

“Let it. A commemoration of our intense copulation.”

Ryujin blushed, quickly grabbing the tissues that Min offered her, and wiping off all that she released, her entire lower half, essentially, was wet. And Min got aroused from watching Ryujin cleaning herself - her little winces when she slightly grazed her cunt only adding fuel to the fire. “Clean my cock.” Min demanded, but when Ryujin grabbed the tissues - ready to oblige - he replied, “with your mouth.”

To be continued...

Ahhh, I love cliffhangers. Enjoy waiting for 10 months! (just kidding!)

Honestly, I wanted to take months with this project, but I just can't seem to stop myself (from writing mid stuff).

[idkyetxoxo]

Three | Threadbare | The Ruin

Pairing - Rhysand x reader (Mafia Boss Rhysand x Nurse Reader)

Word count - 2.7k

Warnings - Attempted assault (brief), implied violence

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Another long shift. Another long day of putting broken pieces back together with trembling hands and borrowed strength.

My shift was supposed to end at 8:30. Supposed to. 

But when you're the young dependable one—the one who never says no, it somehow becomes your responsibility to clean up after everyone else. 

Discharge summaries. IV drips left half-prepped. Two patients who needed turning. One panicked family member who wouldn't calm down unless I was the one to speak to them. 

And no Lucien tonight. No warm car ride, no easy conversation to keep my eyes open until I got home. He'd picked up a morning shift and was already long gone.

It was nearly midnight by the time I finally stepped out into the crisp night air, the hospital doors closing behind me with a hollow thunk that sounded far too final. 

The city was quieter now, its hum dulled by fog and fatigue. My limbs ached with that deep, marrow-level exhaustion that made every step feel like I was dragging weights.

I didn't even bother changing out of my scrubs—just threw on my coat, still vaguely smelling of antiseptic and caffeine, and shoved my cold fingers into my pockets.

I just wanted home. A long, burning-hot shower. A clean pillow. Silence.

I knew I should've called a cab. But the idea of waiting another fifteen minutes in the hospital lobby with its flickering fluorescents and low murmurs made my skin crawl. 

So I made a decision I'd regret. I cut through the park behind the Sidra River.

It wasn't the safest shortcut. Everyone knew that. But it was faster, ten minutes off my walk, maybe more. 

I'd walked it before. During the day. When there were dogs and joggers and the safety of sunlight. 

Tonight, it was a tunnel of shadows.

The path snaked beneath skeletal trees, their branches creaking gently in the breeze. Moonlight filtered through in weak, silver ribbons. The river murmured softly nearby, its voice too calm for how on edge I felt.

I pulled my coat tighter and kept my head down. Almost out.

Then I saw him.

He stumbled from the left, cutting off my path with the slow, disjointed movements of someone far too drunk to care where he ended up. His frame swayed like a broken marionette, clothes dishevelled, breath visible in the cold air.

I slowed immediately.

He reeked of alcohol, sour and rotting. The stench hit me like a wave and I turned my face away, willing my feet to move faster. If I just kept walking quickly...

"Bit late for a stroll in the park, sweetheart," he slurred, his laugh cracking the silence like glass.

I didn't answer. Just kept my eyes forward, one hand tightening around the strap of my bag. Don't engage. Don't look. Don't stop.

"Hey, hey—I'm talkin' to you. Little nurse, come check my pulse, ay?" he rasped, stumbling a step closer.

The hair on the back of my neck rose.

I tried to step around him. Calm. Controlled. Just keep moving. But he moved with me, sloppily, yet deliberately, placing himself right back in my path.

"I'm sorry," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "I'm just trying to get home."

His grin widened, teeth shining in the moonlight. "No need to hurry so much. The night is young, ain't it?" He sang the words in a tuneless melody, like it was some private joke between us.

I tried again, angling my body to slip past. But this time, his hand shot out grabbing the strap of my bag.

I was yanked backwards with a force that knocked the breath from my lungs. My shoes scraped against gravel as I twisted, trying to pull free.

"Don't be rude now," he said, his voice hardening. The sing-song tone was gone, replaced by something hungrier. Darker.

"Let go," I snapped, panic climbing my throat like bile.

But his grip only tightened. His other hand reached for me and I smelled the sharp tang of whiskey on his skin, the heat of it baking off his pores.

My heart thundered against my ribs. I shoved at him, hard. "Let. Me. Go."

He laughed again, and this time it was worse. Mean. Like he was enjoying this.

I didn't scream, I couldn't. My body locked between fear and fury. 

Adrenaline surged and I twisted sharply, slamming my elbow into his chest. He grunted, startled, but didn't let go. Instead, he reached for my waist, fingers fumbling.

Terror, sharp and absolute, exploded in my chest. And then—

Light. Blinding. Harsh. 

Headlights slashed through the shadows like a divine intervention. A sleek black car skidded to a stop on the path's edge, engine still growling as the doors flung open.

Cassian stepped out of the car like a storm on two legs. Tall, broad and brimming with violence. 

Gone was the grinning brute I knew, the one with the easy charm and the teasing smile. His face was carved from stone now, eyes like molten steel.

He didn't hesitate. Didn't ask. Didn't speak.

In one fluid motion, Cassian crossed the space and slammed the man to the ground with enough force to rattle the earth beneath my feet. 

The attacker cried out—winded, writhing but Cassian didn't even blink.

He knelt, a knee on the man's chest, one massive hand pinning him by the throat. All that strength, all that fury, poured into brutal stillness.

"You okay?" he asked me, voice like gravel. Then, without waiting for an answer because he could see I wasn't, he added, "No? Good. Rhys is gonna kill someone tonight."

I stared at him, unable to speak. My mouth opened, then closed. All I could do was blink. My entire body trembled with the aftershock, my limbs jelly, my thoughts fragmented. 

I hadn't even realised I was crying until a tear slipped down my cheek and chilled on my jaw.

Footsteps approached from behind, softer, slower. My instincts jolted, I flinched, spinning toward the sound, heart leaping into my throat again.

But it wasn't another threat.

It was him.

Rhysand emerged from the shadows, black coat billowing, every inch of him radiating something primal and barely restrained. His eyes, normally laced with amusement or calm calculation, were fathomless and furious. 

But when he saw me, saw the state I was in more like it, his expression shifted.

Mine, his eyes seemed to say.

He stopped a few feet away, hands slightly raised like he was approaching a wounded animal. "It's okay," he murmured. His voice wrapped around me like velvet—warm, anchoring, familiar.

And something inside me broke.

I didn't think. I didn't weigh the consequences. I didn't try to be strong or rational or careful. I just ran to him.

The second my arms wrapped around his chest, I let go. Of everything. Of the fear. Of the weight. Of the shaking tension that had held me upright like scaffolding all day.

I pressed my face into his chest, clinging like a drowning woman to the only piece of driftwood left in a storm.

His arms closed around me instantly, strong and secure, one hand curling protectively over the back of my head. He smelled like cold wind and clean soap and something warm and earthy beneath. 

"I've got you," he whispered, one hand rubbing slow circles down my spine. "You're safe now. You're safe."

But I didn't feel safe. Not yet. The memory of that grip was still burned into my skin, the echo of helplessness still howling in my bones.

I didn't want to be standing in a park. I didn't want to be here at all. I wanted to disappear. To be small. To fold myself into nothing and never, ever be touched again.

I stayed in Rhys's arms, trying to piece myself back together with every heartbeat that thudded quietly against his chest.

And as he held me, his coat wrapped around my shoulders, his hands steady and unshaking—I realised something terrifying.

I'd never wanted to be vulnerable in front of anyone.

But with Rhysand... I almost didn't care if I shattered.

Rhysand's POV - 

I was already in a foul mood. The kind of simmering, teeth-clenched, cold-blooded fury that made shadows coil tighter in my veins. 

Tonight's business had run far too long. 

A failed negotiation turned to threats, threats turned to blood, and blood turned into me walking out of that meeting with more death on my hands than answers.

Cassian, of course, tried to lighten the mood on the drive home—going on about his latest conquest with the usual arrogant flourish. 

I didn't say much. Didn't need to. The tension rolling off me filled the car like smoke.

And then he stopped talking suddenly. No warning, no signal. Just a string of curses and the car lurching to a violent halt as his foot slammed the brake.

Cassian was out of the vehicle before I even fully processed what was happening. I followed after him, senses flaring, instincts snapping to attention.

And then I saw her. Her. My bunny.

She stood frozen under the harsh spill of our headlights, her figure trembling in those thin scrubs, tears carving silent lines down her cheeks. 

Cassian had a man pinned to the ground, his face twisted in pure rage, one hand tight around the bastard's throat.

I didn't need details. Didn't need her to say a word.

I saw her bag on the ground. Her arms wrapped around herself. The panic still etched into every line of her face.

And I knew. He touched her. He laid his hands on her.

That was all it took for every scrap of rational thought to vanish. The darkness inside me roared for blood. My fingers twitched with restraint I didn't entirely trust. 

Murder would have been easy—satisfying but the second she saw me, it was over.

She moved like a magnet had pulled her, crossed the short distance between us in a breath and slammed into me. Her arms locked around my middle like she was drowning and I was the only thing left floating.

I caught her. Instinctively. Completely. 

My arms wrapped around her frame, holding her close, holding her tight. My coat fell open and I drew it around her like a shield, like it could erase everything that had just happened.

Her face buried into my chest. Her body shook with silent sobs, the kind that scraped deep, deeper than sound could ever reach.

And all I could think was—mine. She is mine to protect.

I turned her away from the scene, from the man now whimpering beneath Cassian's knee, from the blood, the fear, the danger. I'd end him. Not here, not now. 

But soon. Painfully. Quietly. Permanently. Not in front of her. Not when she needed comfort more than vengeance.

"Let me take you home," I murmured against the top of her head, pressing the softest kiss to her hair before I could stop myself.

She flinched slightly at the sound of his groaning behind us, her head starting to turn, but I gently brought her gaze back to mine.

"Cassian's got it," I said softly, brushing her tear-streaked cheek with my knuckles. "Don't worry, bunny. You're safe now."

She nodded, still shaking, and I opened the passenger door for her. She slid in with a soft, broken sound—more breath than voice and folded into herself, like she was trying to disappear entirely.

Once I was behind the wheel, I glanced over. Her arms were wrapped around her waist now. Her fingers kept tugging at the hem of her coat like it could somehow anchor her.

"Where are we going?" I asked, keeping my voice light, as if this were just any other drive. As if my fury wasn't pulsing under every inch of my skin.

She sniffled. "The apartment blocks past the Sidra... It's not far."

Of course I knew that. 

Her building. Her floor. Hell, I knew the code to her front door. My people had swept the place weeks ago to make sure it was safe enough. 

But I let her tell me. Let her feel like she still had control of something.

"Alright," I said, already pulling out.

The silence between us was fragile, stretched thin. The streetlights washed pale gold over her skin, and I could see the smudges of mascara beneath her eyes. The ghost of a bruise beginning to form near her collarbone.

Then, in a voice barely louder than a breath, she whispered, "You're bleeding."

I looked down. A thin smear of red streaked across my forearm where my sleeve had pulled back. Old blood. Not mine.

"Not mine," I said casually, brushing at it like it didn't matter.

Her eyes lingered on me for a second longer than necessary. She didn't ask who it did belong to. Smart girl.

But the way she looked at me. So hollowed out. So bone-deep tired. I wanted to tear the world apart just to see her smile again.

I reached across the centre console, slowly, careful not to startle her, and gently took her hand in mine. Her fingers twitched, like she wasn't sure whether to pull away.

But she didn't.

Her hand stayed in mine. Cold. Fragile. Shaking. I lifted it to my lips and kissed her knuckles.

"We'll be there soon," I whispered. "You don't have to say anything. Just breathe."

And she did.

Broken. Soft. But she breathed.

When we reached the apartment blocks, I eased the car to a stop and let the engine hum into silence. The night folded in around us—quiet, still, the world holding its breath.

But she made no move to get out.

She just sat there, eyes fixed on the dashboard like it held answers to questions she hadn't dared ask aloud. Her shoulders sagged beneath her coat, hair clinging to damp cheeks where tears had long since dried.

"I wasn't even meant to finish this late," she said suddenly, voice small, roughened by exhaustion. She turned to me and gently pulled her hand back from mine.

I felt the loss like a blow.

Still warm from her touch, my palm curled into a fist against my thigh, but I said nothing. Just waited. Let her speak.

"Then why were you?" I asked softly, careful not to press. Careful not to make her retreat into herself again.

She let out a bitter breath, her mouth twisting into something that wasn't quite a frown, wasn't quite a smile.

"Because everyone needed something. An IV here. A second opinion there. Someone's chart got misplaced, then someone else needed help lifting a patient. And then it just... kept going." Her voice cracked as the words spilt out, tangled and breathless. "Suddenly it was nearly midnight and Lucien was gone, and no one noticed I was still there and I'm just—"

She broke off with a sharp inhale. Her eyes shimmered. "I'm so tired."

That last word wasn't about work. It was everything.

"I just want to run away and make cupcakes for a living," she said, a quiet laugh slipping out. It was hollow. Brittle. Like the sound of glass right before it shatters. "Open a shop in Velaris, wear cute aprons, frost things all day and forget people bleed."

Her laugh died, and silence stretched again.

I turned toward her more fully, careful to keep my voice gentle. "Next time Lucien can't drive you, you tell me."

She looked at me then. Really looked. Eyes wide and damp and disbelieving.

"You don't even know me," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

I leaned in just a little, just enough for her to feel the sincerity in my words.

"That can change," I said with a small smile—the same words I'd spoken to her in that dark hallway.

Her lips parted, like she might say something, then closed again. She blinked once. Twice. Then, slowly, she reached for her phone.

We exchanged numbers. I pretended to type hers in manually, but I already had it saved. Of course I did.

"I'll text you when I get in," she said after a beat, her voice still quiet. But there was something steadier beneath it now. Like she'd built the first brick of a wall she wanted to stand behind, but only just started.

"Good," I murmured. "I'll be waiting."

Her fingers lingered on the handle before she opened the door. She paused on the threshold, half in the car, half out, the streetlight casting a faint gold halo around her.

Then she slipped out, letting the door close softly behind her.

And I sat there for a long moment, watching her walk toward the building, small and tired.

Dreaming of peace, and soft mornings far away from blood and midnight panic.

Gods, I'd burn kingdoms to give her that.

A/n - For the love of self-preservation don't take scary shortcuts, no matter how exhausted you are after a brutal shift where you didn't even get your first break, let alone the second :/

Anyway—we got a number exchange! Sure, Rhys already knows her address (and has her number saved, because of course he does), but he's playing it cool, nonchalant. Gotta keep up appearances, right?

This was the moment she finally crashed out and Rhys and the one who saw it :)

Thank you for reading <3

The Ruin tag list - @queenoffeysand @sttvrdustt @wedonttalkaboutvoldemort @coeurdeveea @maltemp @sillyfreakfanparty @justtryingtosurvive02 @bosssliv5g @hyruledemigod20 @sstrohma @zoeisdreaming6 @shellsarepretty @moonlitlavenders

[rosenclaws]

Replacement || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: Being with Logan is a dream but when the girl who is basically his daughter seems to hate you, it makes things pretty difficult.

warnings: angst, arguments, fluff, comfort, jubilee is kinda mean, a little suggestive at the end.

a/n: okay so idk if i like how this turned out but ive been on a wolverine jubilee kick so fuck it. I live for dad Logan and I just needed more

Logan liked to say he didn't care about anything. He didn't care about the team he would protect with his life or the kids that made him smile. All he cared about was beer and cigars. But everyone could see he was a liar. Deep down the man cared a lot about this little life he had created. Whether he wants to admit it or not the X-Men were very important to him.

Especially Jubilee. She was a young mutant who was quite literally a firecracker. The explosive powers that came from her fingertips were flashy and fun but were not to be taken lightly. Ever since they met they shared a special bond. He had become somewhat of a mentor to her.

For a long time she was the only one who he held that special spot for. Until you came along. Or that's what people would tell you anyways. You thought it was absolutely adorable. To see that soft side of Logan it's what made you fall in love with him, among other things.

You met him while he was away from the mansion. Logan had gone off alone again. The mansion life is nice but sometimes it became too overwhelming. So he hopped on his bike and left. Leaving only a letter to explain where he went. He drove for a while until he had to stop for gas. That's where he met you.

You worked at some 24 hour diner near by and man were you as sweet as the pie you served. You were kind and funny and you made Logan feel like more than just a mutant or an X-Men. He loves them he really does but they know what he is. They don't have any high expectations for the man. But you, you thought he was everything. Handsome, sweet, a little mysterious. He found himself stuck to this town. He got onto his bike but he just couldn't leave.

Back in New York he felt suffocated sometimes but you made it easy to breathe. You built a small life for a while. He helped around and did odd jobs for money while you let him stay with you. He kissed you a week after moving to that town and he knew once his lips touched yours he could never go back.

Eventually he got a message from Charles. They needed him. So he asked you to come with him. It was a big ask but fuck, you loved the man and he loved you.

So you packed up everything and followed him to New York. You and Logan were happy, really happy. There's just one problem. Jubilee seems to hate your guts. He had told you about the mansion and the people in it. His friends. You couldn't wait to meet them all.

When you first arrived Jubilee was the first person to greet the two of you. She jumped into Logan's arms, talking animatedly about all that he missed. Then she saw you and she went quiet, asking who you were in a not so friendly tone. Your nerves went haywire as she stared. She wasn't outright mean but it was clear she wasn't happy you're here. Soon the others arrived and they were nice but you couldn't shake that stomach twisting feeling.

At first you thought she was just wary of you because you were new. You understood the kind of life a lot of these kids had before finding peace at the mansion. So you tried to introduce yourself but she blew you off. It hurt a little but you didn't take it personally. She is a teenager after all. But then you started dating Logan and things took a turn for the worse. She was always interrupting or doing something to drive the two of you apart.

Like one night you and Logan were in the kitchen. He had you leaning against the wall, trapped by his very fit body. He leaned in for a kiss and suddenly a bright spark flew right in between you. You jumped apart and saw Jubilee giggling by the door. Stuff like that would happen a lot. Or she would call for Logan's help whenever the two of you got time alone. If you asked he would tell her no but you always told him it was okay.

You didn't want to make Jubilee more upset or come between them. At first you thought these were all just silly pranks or bad timing but as they kept happening it became incredibly obvious she was doing this on purpose. You just wanted her to like you, or at least not hate you. The strained relationship between you and her was starting to effect your relationship and you wish it didn't.

"Hey Jubilee can we talk?" You asked nervously as you saw the girl sitting in the living room.

"I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go to the movies this weekend? There's this cheesy action comedy movie out that I thought you'd like." She looks up at you and just shrugs.

"No thanks."

"Oh that's okay, maybe another time?" You say, slightly disappointed that another attempt at getting to know her failed.

"Yeah maybe never." She mumbles under her breath.

You try not to get frustrated. She's just a kid. She doesn't have to like you. But you want to make things right, apologize even if you don't know what you did wrong.

"Jubilee, I know you don't like me and I just want to know what I can do to fix it." You tell her. You're desperate at this point.

"It's nothing. Just leave me alone." She rolls her eyes and you feel another wave of annoyance hit you.

"Please, I'm really trying. We don't have to be best friends but you're important to Logan and so am I so we just-"

Jubilee stands up, her face twisting into anger as she interrupts you.

"God can't you take a hint? I don't want to know you. You came into our home and you walk around like you own the fucking place!" She shouts.

"I didn't mean to I'm sorry." You try and apologize but she doesn't listen.

"We don't need you here. We're a family and you're just an outsider." Her fingertips start to tingle as her powers start to spark.

"Just do us all a favor and leave!" A blast comes from her fingers aimed right at you.

You shield your face and brace for the pain, but it never comes. You open your eyes to see Logan standing in front of you. He took the full force, his shirt burned through but his skin was already healing.

"You alright?" He asks and you nod wordlessly.

"Jubilee!" He growls. She looks guilty, she didn't mean to do that.

"I..." She starts but her voice fades.

"Go. I'll deal with you later." She looks to you, opening her mouth but doesn't say anything.

She just takes off outside. Running far away without another word. Logan is furious. He's noticed her acting out lately but he just thought it was typical teenage bullshit. But this is more than that.

"I don't know what the hell has gotten into her." He turns back to you. It's clear as day what you have to do. She'll never accept you being here.

"I think I should go."

"If you need space I can meet you in our room later." He reaches out but you step back, shaking your head.

"No I mean I should leave. Leave the mansion." Logan furrows his brows in confusion.

"What? Why?" You almost laugh at that.

"Clearly I'm not wanted here. So it's just better if we go our separate ways alright?" It's breaking your damn heart to say this. You don't want to leave but maybe Jubilee is right. You are an outsider. You aren't like them.

"She hates me Logan. She almost blasted my face off."

"It was an accident, she'd never hurt an innocent person." Logan says and you just sigh. You're not mad he's defending her. He's in an impossible situation.

"I love you Logan but this is your home. This is your family. Jubilee is your family. I just don't think I fit here."

"Don't go, don't run from me." Logan grabs your wrist gently, his eyes pleading for you to stay.

"I can't lose you." He whispers. It almost makes you stay. Almost.

But you think about everything. What you've put up with and the possible future. If you stay Logan and Jubilee will grow apart because of you. That girl is like his daughter. She needs him. She's just a kid. You lean in and kiss his cheek, a sad look on your face as you slip your wrist out of his grip. His hand falls to his side limply. You turn your back and walk towards your room.

"I'm sorry Logan." You whisper but you know he can hear you. It's too much, it's just better this way.

Jubilee really didn't mean to let her powers get out of control like that. She wouldn't ever hurt you like that on purpose. Her outburst...it's complicated. She sits on the grass with her knees against her chest. She watches the wind blow the dandelions back and forth. She knows she's in the wrong but she can't seem to admit it. She's protecting her life, her family. She hears footsteps approach and she braces for the scolding of a lifetime.

It's Logan. She doesn't even have to turn around to know. His shadow covers her from the sun as he gets closer. He walks around until he's right in front of her. She stares at his boots, refusing to look up at him.

"You wanna tell me what that was about?"

"It was an accident." She mumbles softly. Guilt clawing inside of her.

"I know it was, but I heard what you said." Logan knows there's something eating at her, he just doesn't know what. Or how to fix it. But enough is enough. He sits down in front of her, crossing his legs he leans back.

"I can sit out here all day Jubs, you need to talk to me." Logan tilts his head as Jubilee starts to pick at the grass. Fuck.

"I'd never hurt them, I was just so angry and I..."

"Angry bout what?" Logan pushes. He can see the gears turning in her head. He knows the most how difficult it can be to open up, to dig deep into the anger. It's easy to be angry but it's harder to understand why.

For the first time Jubilee looks up at Logan, expecting an angry pissed off look he reserves for when he's really mad. But instead it's soft. It's concern and worry. Tears well up in her eyes as she finally has to face the truth. It's always been unspoken between them. Just how much they mean to each other.

Logan wasn't a sappy emotional man and Jubilee was an outgoing teenager who liked to pretend her past didn't hurt as much as it did.

"I was scared." She whispers, tucking her legs closer to her body.

"Scared of what?" Logan asks.

"Scared that you were going to be taken away from me." She admits. Logan was the father figure she never had. She was special to him. He was softer with her, kinder. She could ask for almost anything and he'd cave even if he complained the whole time. She trusted him with her life. So seeing someone else seemingly fill that role hurt. She was jealous and scared and upset. So she lashed out, believing that if she could drive you away then everything would go back to normal.

"You left me Logan." She remembers how hurt she was when he left. Not even a goodbye just some lousy note.

She waited for him to come back, acting like she wasn't affected by his disappearance but she was. So when he finally did come home she was so happy. But then she saw you and realized he wasn't alone.

"The X-men are my family but...you mean a lot to me Logan and when you came back you brought someone new and I was afraid that meant you were going to forget about me." She buries her face into her knees.

It was so childish but she couldn't help it. She missed Logan and now someone new came along and stole him away. Were you the reason he was gone for so long? The resentment just built and built.

"Hey, look at me." Logan says softly. He gently grabs her face and tilts her head up.

Jubilee means more to him than she'll ever know. The protective nature he feels over her can really only be described as paternal. He won't admit it but she is like his daughter. Man look at him, he never thought he'd have this life. That he'd have a family. But he does and you know, it's pretty damn great.

"I could never replace you kid, ever." He wipes away a tear and sits next to her. He wraps an arm around her and she leans against his shoulder.

"You mean a lot to me too. Even if you're annoying and loud and make me watch stupid internet videos." She giggles and Logan smiles.

"Were you happy? When you went away." She asks and Logan nods.

"Yeah I was, but that doesn't mean I didn't miss you too kid." A wave of guilt crashes over Jubilee as she thinks about all the things she'd done to lash out. You were nice, really nice and she couldn't even give you a chance. She was so wrapped up in her own feelings she didn't even care how happy you made Logan.

"I feel so stupid, god I really messed up didn't I." Jubilee groans as she looks at Logan.

"Yeah, you did kid. But it's nothing an apology and effort can't fix." Logan says, though he's not completely convinced. Jubilee studies his face for a moment before getting up and running back to the mansion without another word.

"Hey! Where are you going?!" Logan calls after her but she ignores him. She has to make this right.

You're almost all packed when the door bursts open.

"Logan please don't make this harder than it has to be," You beg as you turn around, expecting the man you love to be standing there. To your surprise it's Jubilee. She's slightly out of breath as she leans against the door.

"Man I need to get back in the danger room." She huffs. She spots your clothes folded in a suitcase and starts to panic.

"Are you leaving?"

"Don't worry, I'll be out of your life soon." You tell her.

"No!" She blurts out which takes you by surprise.

"I'm sorry. I'm really really sorry. I was afraid and jealous and I took it out on you and I'm sorry." She apologizes. Afraid that she went too far, that she was going to drive away someone who made Logan happy.

"I felt replaced and I got bitter and I just wanted Logan back but I really fucked up."

"Thank you, for the apology Jubilee," You say gently.

"I really appreciate it, but maybe it's for the best that I leave." You're not sure what to do now.

"I'd never try to replace you. Logan needs you more than he needs me." You say and she frowns.

"That's not true. I lashed out because I was afraid I'd lose him and I didn't mean anything I said. You make him so happy. You're so kind to all of us. You don't judge us. Please don't punish him for my mistakes." This was a big moment for Jubilee.

To take this kind of responsibility and be so vulnerable to someone she doesn't really know. But it's her way to trying to show you she means it.

"I..." You hesitate.

"Let me make this right. We can go to that movie if it's still on the table?" She pleads and man her puppy dog eyes really are magic. No wonder Logan can never say no.

"Okay. I'll stay."

"Thank you!" She reaches out to hug you but stops, realizing you might not be her biggest fan right now. But you open your arms and welcome her into a hug.

"I want you to know that I could never replace you. Logan will always have a special place in his heart for you that no one can ever touch." You tell her. She hugs you a little tighter. You look up and see Logan leaning against the door.

"No fireworks this time?" Logan says, his voice gentle.

"Not this time." You reply.

Jubilee pulls away and walks over to Logan. Hugging him too. He grunts and pretends to be annoyed but he wraps his arms around her tight.

"Don't think you aren't in trouble for earlier by the way." He whispers in her ear and she sheepishly laughs.

"Go down to the lab. I'm sure Hank has plenty of work for you to do allll week." She groans and stomps off to the lab, mumbling under her breath.

"I heard that!" Logan yells and she turns to stick her tongue out at him.

"Teenagers." He says with a roll of his eyes.

"You are such a dad." You say with a laugh. He smiles just hearing that sound.

"You still leaving?" He asks and you shake your head.

"No. I'm not."

"Good." Logan grabs your waist and pulls you into a heated kiss. You tug at his shirt and groan when he nips at your bottom lip.

"Looks like we finally have some real alone time." He hums as he kicks the door closed.

"Yeah we do, I think you owe me a date night." Logan just grins.

"I'll buy you dinner but how about we skip to the good part right now."

[kotoku]

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇᴅ! ꜱ/ᴏ

pairings - sunday x injured! reader / aventurine x injured! reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/ angst but with comfort/ fluff in the end

warnings - a bit of angst (?), maybe like two sprinkles..

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

Sunday had been filing through his paperwork, eyes skimming over the contents before tucking it into its rightful folder. The ticking of a clock was the only sound that filled the room, besides the noise of papers being shuffled. It was then his mind had begun to wonder, filtering out the ambiance and recalling the last conversation the two of you had shared before leaving for work. 

“It seems that something urgent has come up at work. I’ll be leaving now, Sunday.” You quickly put on your footwear that you normally use for work, making sure that it isn't loose. Sunday stood near the front door and offered you your bag that held your belongings when you got up.

“Alright, stay safe, my dear.” 

And with a quick peck on the lips, you had set off to work, leaving Sunday in the doorway feeling a little lonely. 

With a shake of his head and the shutting of the door, Sunday had made his way to the bedroom to start his own routine.

There was no need for him to feel lonely. As you would be back in his arms later that day. 

He wouldn’t have had to wait that long, as he was notified of your disappearance by your boss. 

Sunday had dropped whatever paperwork he was doing, the papers that were once neatly organized scattered across his desk. When he had got the call from your superior, knots of dread had weaved itself in his stomach and it made him want to puke. 

He left his office in a hurry, not bothering to close the door fully as he sprinted to the place your superior had sent you to. Your superior had said that you had an assignment within the real dreamscape, something about the memetic entities within it that were disrupting the environment. The group that was sent to the area had lost you somewhere deep within it before they were attacked by those monsters. 

The thought of you being by yourself while facing those things made a shiver run up his spine. He knew how capable you were but he didn’t want to risk losing another person again. 

Not after what happened to his sister.

When Sunday got to the real dreamscape, he had met with the group you were sent with before leaving on his own to find you. He tore the entire place apart, searching for any traces of where you could have gone before stumbling upon a trail of freshly spilled blood. Your blood. 

Sunday cursed under his breath, following the trail that led him through door after door. It was then the trail stopped, your beaten up form sitting up against the wall, a pool of blood beneath you from the blood that you were losing. You were on the verge of unconsciousness.

For a moment he felt his heart stop, hands clenching in anger and fear at what had done this to you. But despite the urge to eliminate whoever was responsible, he needed to focus and bring you somewhere safe. 

You hadn’t registered the footsteps that were quickly approaching you, the gentleness of the person who was carrying you and the soft fluttering of wings against your face, nor the warm grip on your hand while you got transported to the infirmary. It was then when you could barely make out a couple of people above you that you were swept away to darkness.

-----

There was a faint noise coming from beside you. It was the sound of the monitors that were hooked up to you, the IV pole sitting nearby with its saline bag half empty. The bright lights that flooded your vision as soon as you woke caused you to wince, slowly shuffling in the medical bed you were set on. 

The pain you felt was almost unbearable. The myriad of bandages on your body and the cast around your leg were proof of where the pain originated. You could barely move around that much with how everything was restricting you, yet you attempted to find a comfortable position. 

However, you felt a lightweight resting on your thigh and a loose grip holding your hand. 

“Sunday..?” You croaked out, peering over at the man who slept peacefully with some of his loose feathers around you. You figured that he must’ve been so stressed that some had popped right off, poor thing. 

Reaching out a hand and carefully swiping away some of his disheveled hair, you saw the bags that had formed under his eyes. How many days has it been? It was clear that he had spent a while there with you, waiting for the moment that you’d awaken, but his tiredness eventually caught up to him. You couldn’t help but shake your head, feeling a little guilty you had caused your lover this much stress. 

Sunday stirring awake snapped you out of your thoughts. He slowly blinked his eyes open and lifted himself away from where he lay as he noticed that you were awake.

“_____..? You’re awake..! Thank Xipe..I almost thought you weren’t going to wake up anytime soon.” Sunday breathed a sigh of relief, the feelings of stress and anxiety that ate away at him disappearing. He carefully cupped your face and pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get there in time, My Love…”

“Sunday… You don’t need to apologize for that. I should be apologizing for my recklessness…” You murmured, feeling the warmth radiating from him. You sunk further into his touch, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your cheek. 

“Nonsense, you were only doing your duty.” Sunday firmly stated, nudging you to look him in the eyes. “There is nothing for you to be sorry for.”

Tears began to well in your eyes, not just from the pain but the reassurance that Sunday gave you. You would not have known what to do if either one of you lost the other, so you were eternally grateful that both of you were alive at this moment. 

A brief silence fell between the both of you. It wasn’t uncomfortable but rather comforting, enjoying the presence of each other for a little longer before the nurses would check in on you. 

“If you think about it… You’re kind of like my guardian angel, Sunday.” Sunday chuckled. 

“I guess I am."

-----

You and Aventurine had an..interesting start to your developing friendship that brought you to where you are now. The both of you had first started working at the IPC in the same department so the frequent appearances of the other never really surprised either one of you. There would be times when you’d guys share small talk, but that never really lasted long as you got swept away to another assignment. 

When you had started rising through the ranks, there was an unspoken rivalry that began to form between you and Aventurine. You never really cared or bothered to feed into this ‘rivalry’, but you had to admit that it was pretty funny seeing Aventurine so fired up if something fortunate happened to you. This led to constant teasing and bickering whenever the two of you encountered each other. It got even worse when you got paired to the same assignment as him. Yet he did know when to take things seriously so you both could get the job done. 

It had been a rather uninteresting day of work for Aventurine, bound to his desk and reviewing important documents that had been submitted to him from his subordinates. Eventually, he had concluded everything and placed them into a cabinet for further inspection later. He just wanted to take a quick walk to stretch out his body after being strapped to his chair for the entire day. 

The scenery outside the spaceship was what you’d expect, yet he never grew bored of it. Sometimes he’d stare out into the vast sea of stars and planets, distracted by the idea of just how small he and his problems were. In a way, it distracted him from the stresses of life.

Aventurine had begun to near the area where people would come in, a group of workers that had recently finished an assignment passing him. He noticed some familiar faces amidst the group and started to wonder when you’d be back to see him. 

It had been 2 weeks since you left for your assignment, giving him a long kiss that left him dazed before departing. Aventurine didn’t lie when he said that he’d miss you as he whined about you leaving for 2 weeks, clinging to you when it was the morning of your departure. Yet he whined a little less when you promised to text him whenever you had a moment of free time.

Speaking of which… The last message you sent to him was a while ago, around 2 days in fact. He never heard anything from you since you bid goodnight to him which made him a little worried. But he knew more than anyone that you were a capable and dependable person, so his worries grew a little less. 

…Yet he could feel a small twinge of dread in his stomach whenever he thought about the time span. 

The opening of the doors leading to the docking area brought him out of his thoughts, glancing over to check what ship had come back. To his surprise, it was you..but in crutches and countless bandages as you awkwardly made your way past the door with someone assisting you. 

Aventurine stared for a couple of seconds, registering your beat-up form before rushing over. “_____!”

You had strained your neck to look towards where the voice came from, seeing a distressed Aventurine catch up with you and your coworker.

“Ah.. Aventurine–,” you started, giving him an awkward smile. “--didn’t think I’d see you so soon. How has work been–”

“What happened to you??” Before you could finish your sentence, Aventurine had taken your coworker’s place, assisting you towards the infirmary. You were trying to explain what happened during your mission and brushed off the injuries, as it was never uncommon to come out with a few scratches and bruises… Aventurine disagreed in a heartbeat.  

“Missions can be dangerous so you must take care of yourself.” Aventurine huffed, getting you checked into the infirmary. 

After you were settled into your room with everything taken care of, Aventurine came back in to stay by your side. You could tell he was upset and concerned for your well-being, sighing as he continued to whine and lecture you about safety. 

“You should’ve given me a call, you know I’d be there in a heartbeat–” 

“Aventurine…”

“Who knows what could’ve happened to you if the circumstances were different–” 

“Aventurine.”  

“Whatever happened… Whoever did this to you I’ll–”

“Aventurine!” 

He stopped pacing around the room, head snapping towards you when your voice finally got his attention. You sighed softly, looking down at your hands that had medical equipment attached to them. “I’m okay. Everything is fine–” “How can you say that?” 

Aventurine gave you a frown, crossing his arms as he stood at the foot of your bed. “You came out with multiple injuries, hell you could barely walk. How could you say that everything is fine?” His eyes had narrowed, staring down at the tiled floor that reflected back at him.

You stared at him for a bit, thinking of what you could say to him. After all, he was right, you came out bearing a multitude of injuries that would leave a couple of scars. But..you didn’t want him to be so worried for your sake, you couldn’t bear burdening him. The grip you had on the sheets loosened, your head leaning back onto the pillow. 

“I…” A pause. “..I’m sorry, Aventurine. I didn’t want to cause more stress for you but.. I’ll be fine. I promise.” You firmly spoke, watching him look back at you before coming over to sit beside you.

“No I… You don’t need to apologize.” Aventurine sighed, moving to hold your hand. “I was just..scared. I’m sorry for lashing out on you, _____.” His gloved fingers felt warm against your bare skin, thumb gliding over your knuckles. 

You hummed in response, your hand interlocking with Aventurine’s. “I know, Aven.” He gave your intertwined hands a kiss, pressing his forehead against them.

“Geez… You really don’t know how worried I was when I didn’t hear anything from you for two days.” Aventurine whined, head moving to rest on your stomach. You stroked his hair, fingers gliding through his golden strands as he sighed in bliss. 

“...I missed you.” He mumbled, peering up at you like a kid through his lovely eyes. You smiled softly at him. 

“I missed you too, Aven.”

“You won’t believe how work has been without you, though…” “Really? I’m all ears.”

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

note - sorry for the sudden disappearance everyone! 😀 i hope that you guys haven't missed me too much but i'll promise to post stuff soon! thank you guys for your patience and i hope you guys have a safe and wonderful break/week!

[lunarxcity]

Why Hide? (Part XII to Why Me?)

Azriel x rhys sister! reader!

angst/eventual comfort (This got really scary real fast! We love some good plot! Also sorry for the short chapter it's been a minute since I've written...)

Summary: When you walk in on Azriel and Elain the mating bond snaps leading you to flee to Autumn with Eris so you can be free of Azriel. Your absence causes Azriel to come to some drastic realisations, but is it already too late and has your time in Autumn led to you moving on?

Parts I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, and XI if you missed them!

-

Azriel was yanked out of sleep by a horrifying nightmare, the fourth one this week. They always ended the same, with a dark figure holding an onyx blade emanating an evil magic to your neck and no matter how hard he tries you're always either stabbed, poisoned, or some combination of the two.

For Azriel may have beaten death, but he may have paid the price with his soul. The Mother fought to save his life but the unknown darkness fought harder to claim his soul.

After Eris purged all the darkness from his chest with his fire and he had his outburst, Azriel passed out. You monitored him while he slept and he woke up nearly 2 days later screaming.

You guys have barely spoken, cordial small talk and tense silence filling the gap between you now that everything was out in the open. Azriel can't bear your rejection, so for now he will take your silence.

Footsteps in the hallway snap him out of his trance, everytime he wakes from a nightmare he can hear you hovering by his door. He had had gone from feeling a dull trickle of your feelings to now a roaring waterfall as the bond was formally acknowledged.

He knew he woke you up every night and he could feel your hesitation and desperation in his own chest, the same way you felt his fear.

The first night you had been pacing in your room and had ultimately gone to bed after he had lightly tugged on the bond to let you know he was okay.

The second night you had made it out of the hallway after hearing a crash and pretended to get water and do other mundane tasks until you couldn't hear any movement from his room anymore.

The night after that you slipped one of his shadows a sleeping potion so he could go back to bed without being plagued by nightmares.

This was the fourth night and you had made it to his door. The shadows were telling him that your hand was up, ready to knock, but you had been standing there for nearly 5 minutes and yet nothing.

He decided to put you out of your misery and he opened the door to your shocked figure.

"Can I help you? You're hovering like a vulture." Your expression shifted from surprise to embarrassment.

"I just- I didn't- " You stammered out.

Azriel raised a brow and you took a deep breath, steadying your voice.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright, I could uhm feel your terror." You mumbled the last part out.

You were tired of beating around the bush with him, he already knew that you knew and you had been dancing around each other for days. It didn't feel right, but again nothing did these days.

Azriel did not expect you to acknowledge the bond so openly. You said nothing about acceptance or rejection, just acknowledged it's existence. Maybe after everything is done with you guys would have that conversation, but for now there were more pressing matters at hand.

"I'm fine." An answer so short and unrevealing, how Azriel.

"You've been different since your return." You were trying to get him to talk about it, everyone else was blinded by the joy of having him back but you felt the scars that his soul now beared.

You felt the darkness emanating off of him when he was contaminated with that black magic.

"Yes that tends to happen when you come back from the dead." His response came out a bit harsher than intended, but Azriel's facade has been crumbling.

He has tried these past few days to put on a mask and put away his suffering from his family, but he hasn't slept in days he was exhausted.

You flinched slightly, but you just looked at him and waited patiently. The look in your eyes let him told that you were listening and his resolve was finally crumbling.

"I feel the scars of the darkness on my soul. It was slowly taking over me, eroding who I was until all I knew was pain and the only thing I yearned for was power and revenge."

He took a breath and you grabbed his hand and dragged him to sit down on his bed.

He reached for his chest, where the darkness used to be like he could still feel it eating away at himself and everything he knew the world to be.

"I almost lost myself and if I did, I knew that whatever dark master I would serve would use me and that twisted magic to defeat Prythian so I brought myself to the one person who could save me."

He looked at you with vulnerability and pain and as you looked into his eyes, the same hazel eyes that have plagued your mind for Mother's known how long, you started to feel a seed of fear being planted in your stomach.

The golden flecks in Azriel's eyes, the eyes you knew better than your own, were gone. They were replaced by a darker green, the warmth consumed by this unfamiliar darkness.

Something is wrong with Azriel.

"I swear to the Mother or whatever gods will listen to me, we will get answers and find a way to fix this, Azriel."

You hold both of his hands in your own and look him in the eyes, determination coating your features.

"It makes no difference if the gods turn their backs on us, for you are the only deity that I answer to. For I would forsake all of them and eternally damn myself just to be by your side, whatever you give me will be enough for me. "

Almost dying really changes your priorities, well in Azriel's case at least. He would rather leave knowing that he told you how he was feeling, instead of leaving without telling you once.

He has already died with regrets once and he would worse than a fool to do it again.

You dragged him to the library and started to research.

-

The dark figure was out again, the night freed him he could ebb and flow through the darkness as he pleased. The sun was a hideous thing that he abhorred, for light reveals all in its presence. There was no hiding in the light and no room for his sinister schemes in the light of day.

He had been trying to get through to the shadowsinger all week, but the most he could do was plague him with measly nightmares.

Pathetic.

He had once started plagues that took down civilisations, started wars that had broken apart nations, and now he was no more than the boogeyman.

He had corrupted a few others, watching as they gave into madness and took others down with them but it didn't give him the satisfaction he craved.

What he craved was power. He wanted to bring Prythian down to it's knees and mere fae could not do that.

He needed the shadowsinger or the high lord, but Rhysand was so heavily guarded he couldn't even make it within a hundred feet without being slaughtered.

He'd had the shadowsinger in his clutches and he lost him along with is plan to take down Prythian.

First it was Prythian, then Hybern, and finally the mainland until the entire world was consumed by terror and chaos and he would be standing on the ruins.

He hears a song over the horizon. It's a song of enchantment and one that beckons to him, which is strange since he cannot stand the screech of music.

He follows the sound and is met with a white strand of twisted magic that flows through the woods. A trap of some sort, a normal fae would be ensnared, but he is not fae and the magic of this world doesn't effect him the way it should.

He follows the magical strand to the source like it's a stray piece of yarn.

He weaves through the forest until he feels the world slip away from him temporarily. When he comes back he notices that the trees were much taller than they just were and the trunks a deep shade of red as if trying to warn him from coming any closer.

The yarn ball ends up being a lake. While it looks like it should be picturesque with towering trees along the shoreline, there was something eerie that could only be explained by a sinister type of magic.

It's pitch black, even though there was a full moon and the only light source is the unnatural blue glow of the lake.

Welcome follower

The lake whispers to him in a voice that sounds like tar.

He walks up to the lake to see the source of this voice.

"I am no follower of yours."

My how interesting and I was told you had left this world long ago

"You are a child compared to me. I am as old as the dust of this universe."

It appears that your age has caused you to grow weak

Anger roared in him. "I WILL-"

Calm down, I am not trying to insult you, but rather convince you to take a deal of sorts

"I do not make deals with those beneath me."

I have the power you need, and my price is low. I only ask for one simple thing.

The scowl that is normally plastered on his face shifts to intrigue.

When we have the world on it's knees, you give me Prythian once you are finished ravaging it.

That was a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things and while he did not work well with others from the power of this being alone he knew that he could deliver what he was promising.

All you have to do is free me from this lake and we can destroy everything together

He pluges his shadowed arm into the lake and pulls this being through whatever enchantments were holding him there until he breaches the lakes surface.

He now stands in front of him, an evil grin on his face, laughing to himself relishing in his freedom.

"My name is Koschei, it's lovely to meet you in person."

-

The winds cry and the shadows retreat back in fear.

It's the middle of the night and you and Azriel, are researching in the library when Azriel's shadows begin to scream.

He falls to the ground, clutching his head screaming out in pain.

You fall to the ground with him, trying to figure out whats wrong when Rhys and Feyre winnow in.

Rhys was in the same state as Azriel, clutching his head and on the floor.

Feyre was running through the stacks, urgently looking for a book.

This continued on for 10 minutes until they both snapped out of it. You looked out the window to see the first light of dawn.

Feyre was adamantly flipping through the large book she had and Rhys and Azriel were catching their breath.

You looked at both of them, "What happened?"

Rhys shuddered. Azriel replied, "I'm not sure it was almost as if Night itself was screaming, my shadows were terrified."

Cassian and Nesta burst through the door.

"He's out." That's all Nesta managed to say.

Rhys and Azriel froze and you saw a look in their eyes that you haven't seen since the first war. It was fear. Pure, icy fear.

"Who's out?"

Eris came running through the door followed by Lucien and Elain.

"Koschei! He's free, he's trying-" She started swaying on her feet.

"He's trying-" Elain immediately falls unconscious and Lucien catches her.

"She had a vision, she was screaming about Koschei and the lake." Lucien slowly says.

The room was silent,all the air sucked out. The threat to Prythian was greater than they could have imagined.

They say death always has a price and Azriel prayed to the Mother that Prythian was not about to pay it.

-

note: Hello my loves long time no see life got pretty chaotic and has prevented me from escaping back to my stories(i know i know). I hope everyone is well and the story has not slipped from anyones mind in the meantime, but personally I believe that suspense only makes the story that much impactful (that's what im using as an excuse for my lack of activity). This chapter is short and a bit darker than usual which I hope is not too out of the blue for anyone but it is pure plot which we have not really seen yet. I'm excited to dust off this story and get right back to it so enjoy and like always until next time my darlings!

note note: One day I will get a beta reader, but until then in the spirit of magic and make believe lets pretend like my grammatical errors and typos don't exist!

my lovely taglist: @alimarie1105 @chaosabroad @bbontenswhhore @tele86 @ashblooddragons @circe143 @i-am-infinite @princesssunderworld @thestartitaness @tiffany-xx @cpfantasybooks @lucia-valentinaa @jennigsonl @ivy-34 @firefly-forest @k-homosapien @coeurdeveea @cherryjain17 @bckynatt @becstersworld @rcarbo1 @gojospearlycim @atluky @juliebluehufflepuff @willowpains @abadfantasybook @neverendingstay @hellohauntedturnstudent @highladyofhogwarts @littowl @iluvyewman-blog @lunaticpotatoe @justlivinginadaydream @julesiebean @shylahstarzz @olive-main @lreadsstuff @noonenuts @sourapplex @aquellaspequenascosas @anuttellaa @honethatty12 @moonlwghts @kittymeyers @beabogsims @sillyfreakfanparty @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @lilah-asteria @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @florencemtrash @violetscar656 @ania-swissweet @jasmineee05 @fxckmiup @plants-w0rld @lou-diaries

[only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are]

could u maybeeeee do a rough caretaker x super sensitive whumpee? Maybe hospital setting, non con drugs, force feeding?? idk but i LOVED ur out like a light

By the end this turned into kind of a Munchausen by Proxy syndrome situation at least to me, where Caretaker is convinced Whumpee is sick or maybe they're just the one making Whumpee sick..? Anyway read it how you like! I hope this is okay for you and ticked all the boxes!!!

CWs: forced drugging, needles, sedation, medical setting, forced feeding, forced intubation (NG tube) restraints

“Let me GO!"

“Just hold still.” Caretaker ground out, pinning a wriggling Whumpee to their chest. “You're making this more difficult than it has to be.”

They threw Whumpee onto the bed, easily overpowering them and slipping both wrists and ankles into soft padded cuffs that were tied to the bed.

Whumpee let out a terrified shriek as Caretaker affixed the last restraint, then picked up a syringe off a metal trolley next to the bed.

“Here, this should help.” Caretaker flicked the cap off the syringe and drove the needle into Whumpee's thigh, emptying the contents swiftly into the muscle. Whumpee let out a cry like a wounded animal as the drug began to pump into their system.

“No, no, no..” Whumpee breathed as their limbs began to weaken and go slack in the restraints. "Don't.. need it. I'm fine.. mmfine.."

“Much better.” Caretaker patted Whumpee's head. “This is all for your own good. You get that, right?” They asked, smiling softly.

Whumpee’s heavy breaths slowed, and their head slumped back against the pillows.

“That's better. Now we can get some food into you.”

Caretaker turned their back on Whumpee, rummaging amongst medical supplies as they set up a tray with various tubes and syringes.

They snapped on a pair of blue nitrile gloves, causing Whumpee to flinch against the restraints.

The drugs hadn't fully taken effect yet, and so Whumpee knew whatever was about to happen would not be pleasant.

Caretaker ignored their pleas, reaching for a long piece of tubing, which they removed from sterile packaging. They held the tubing up to Whumpee's cheek, measuring it and marking a line across it with a marker. Then, Caretaker covered the end of the tube in some kind of gel before leaning over and shoving it up into Whumpee's nostril without warning. Whumpee began to cough and splutter, trying to pull their head away, but Caretaker trapped their head in place and continued to force the tube further up. Whumpee felt the tube reach the back of their nose and begin to go down their throat. It was a horrifying, invasive feeling as they began to cough and gag at the foreign object, eyes watering with the force of the intrusion. The tube was still going further and further down until it seemed to reach deep inside their stomach. Finally, Caretaker stopped, pulling back and using a small piece of tape to tape the other end of the tube to Whumpee's cheek. Whumpee took in a deep breath racked with sobs as they tried to steady their queasy stomach.

Caretaker patted their head. “Wasn't that easier when you stopped fighting?” They asked condescendingly.

Whumpee spat in their direction. Caretaker simply sighed and cleaned up the spit from Whumpee's chin. They then picked up a bottle-like container, poured an unappetising solution into it, and then attached tubing to it, which ran to the end of the tube on Whumpee's face. They hung the bottle up on an IV stand as the concotction began to flow from the stand into the tube and into Whumpee's stomach. The initial sensation was just cold. Then, the solution travelled into Whumpee's stomach, and the sensation of being filled from within made Whumpee gag again.

“Deep breaths.” Caretaker cooed, massaging Whumpee's stomach.

Tears pooled in Whumpee's eyes as they tried to breathe through the nausea, finally managing to get through the sensation until all the solution was gone. As the next breath left their body, they felt their eyes growing heavy.

“You can sleep now, Whumpee.” Caretaker soothed, stroking their gloved hand through Whumpee's hair. “Sh, just rest.”

Whumpee wanted to say no, that there was something wrong, but the drugs were making the room spin, and they just wanted to close their eyes and …

Caretaker smiled as Whumpee's head drooped against their chest, their patient finally unconscious, finally calm. They whispered, “Just rest. I'll take care of you. I'm the only one who can make you better.”

[soggyriceee]

I NEED MORE OF THE COWBOY ELLIE AGGGHHHHH YOURE SO GOOD AT WRITING

please 18+ | E. W

(sort of a continuation of the last two cowboy ellie fics bc you guys have me lowkey obsessed with cowboy ellie now (??) , cheating(still), age gap, thigh riding,, strap use, lowkey obsessive ellie, crying during sex(reader), ellie doesn’t really know how to process feelings so she uses sex, sad ending, lmk if i miss any … thank you for this request i’m so glad you guys are loving my work🥹🥹)

it didn’t really hit you that Ellie was married until you physically saw her wife three weeks later. you and ellie would continue to sleep together over these weeks, no ring ever in sight when she was around you.

you’d picked up an extra shift for the weekend stand, extremely unusual and out of your schedule. weekends were spent for partying and whatnot but all your friends were busy, so might at well cover for your co worker.

Ellie locked eyes on you first, bamboozled by your appearance. you’d then meet her gaze, giving a bright smile and wave. but when she hurried off, pushing some woman in front of her, you quickly put two and two together. and it ruined the rest of your shift.

by the time you were off for the day, sun setting and clock reading 7:30, you just wanted to go home and lay in your bed. the uber ride was quick and silent and you ignored the texts coming through from Ellie. so much so, you muted her chat entirely. you needed no explanation, the explanation was in her actions.

you would recognize the dark red truck parked in front of your house. it made your heart jump a bit, you felt nervous. but you wiped the small smile off your face as you got out the uber, and made quick movements to your door. but Ellie was just as fast, pushing you into your home with her right behind.

“ellie what the fuck are you doing?” you spat, trying to stop her from entering any further. “i already know your parents are gone let me in or i’ll find another way.” she said, brows furrowed and knuckled white as she gripped the door knob. her dedication to seeing and talking to you was hot sure, but you reminded yourself this was a taken woman. legally, at that.

“we have nothing to talk about, i wont tell your wife and we can go back to never speaking a word to each other.” you scoffed, dropping your bag as you began to push the woman out the door. she was stronger though, flexing her stomach to stay put. “i’m not leavin.” she shook her head. “yea i don’t expect you to.” you fake laughed, taking in a deep breath before giving another good push.

she stood outside your house door but she would jam her foot into the crack, panting as she pleaded with you. “no im-i’m not leaving you i’m not leaving this house. not until you let me talk.” she was growing a bit more annoyed now, but what did she expect? she put herself into this position, she deserved to deal with the attitude and consequences.

but you were weak for her. she was your first time, you didn’t know many girls who forgot their first time. but that’s also why you were so upset at her. your gaze would soften and tears would begin to swell as you began to really realize your first time was her random hookup.

this moment of realization allowed ellie to shove the door open, closing it and trapping herself inside. “please don’t cry i.. i know i fucked up, bad. really bad but-“ “no ellie this is wrong you should’ve never even came over here.. what did you tell your wife you were even doing right now.” you cried, wiping your eyes before a single tear fell.

she stayed silent, until you’d ask her again, voice firmer than before. “i told her i had to drop off a package!” she yelled back, already feeling guilty about her excuse before. you scoffed and shook your head, wiping your eyes again. “i’m just some post office now huh.”

“that’s not true! you.. y’made me feel good. better than i-ive ever felt.” she said, offended at your question. “oh please ellie your poor sex life at home isn’t an excuse to sleep around and-“

“i’m not sleeping around!” she yelled, neck and face turning a faint red. you’d hold your tongue, and simply stare back at the woman. “you.. you’re t’only one i’m sleepin’ with..” she would continue, softer now.

truth was her and her wife hadn’t had sex in two months. she didn’t know why. her wife just, stopped asking/offering. Ellie didn’t ask, she didn’t argue about it. she wanted to continue this whole “i’m in a better place” mindset, and divorce or arguments was the last thing she needed. but when she saw you, and heard your voice for the first time, arguments with her wife became something she would welcome or even start after she met you, because she had you to go and take it out on when her wife would drift to sleep.

you both stared at each other for a moment, Ellie taking in your beauty and you deciding if you wanted to punch or slap her. she could feel the anger still in you, so she cautiously moved closer. “i.. i’m not this shitty person y’think i am..”, she’d take her hat off, placing it on the mail table next to you both. she’d begin to walk closer to your body, kicking her shoes off in the process, dropping her backpack you didn’t realize she had on. “no ellie you’re leaving.” you said, shaking your head as she kept making her way to you.

“doesn’t seem like y’want me to leave that bad..” she said softly, eyes moving down your body. you’d wore one of her hoodies innocently, she’d given it to you last time you both hooked up, -before you put two and two together- and cute white jean shorts. “even wearin’ my clothes.” you cursed yourself mentally for this, but in your defense you didn’t think she’d be a cheater.

your back hit the wall of the living room, leaving you nowhere to go. Ellie would smile down at you, taking her hat off and dropping it on the table beside you both. “no more runnin’ … just lemme apologize.” she said, leaning down to press a kiss to your collar bone. your fingers dug into your palms as you tried your best not to react to her touch, how her hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you into her as she moved up your neck. she loved how petite you were next to her, gave her move control it felt.

“e..ellie..” your pant softly as she gently tugged the skin of your neck, laying her tongue flat to ease the pain. “i know baby.. g’nna take care of ya..”

she’d lift you into her arms, wrapping your legs around her waist before making her way to the couch. you’d sit on her lap and all the anger you’d felt just a mere moments ago disappeared. you crashed your lips onto hers, tangling your fingers in her hair and tugging gently. she’d already be working her hands up your sweater, toying with your nipples. “take this off for me.” she’d mutter against your lips, leaning back to watch the sweater disappear. your boobs would bounce as your bra came off next, ellie’s poor bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

but she wasn’t far behind, you taking matters into your own hands and yanking her shirt off, sports bra coming after. “i hate you.” you said, before pressing your lips to hers. she’d smile into the kiss, pulling you closer to her chest. you swore you could feel each others heartbeats, but maybe that was your delusion for her talking.

below you, she’d softly begin to bounce her leg, her hands dragging your hips back and forth slow. you’d whine into her mouth, pulling away to look down and watch yourself. “just need t’ cum don’t ya..” she said softly, watching your face twist, “g’nna stop being mad at me when i fuck you proper yea?” she’d grab your chin, gently of course, lifting your head to look in your eyes.

you’d not pathetically, your hands gripping her shoulders as you felt your orgasm already approaching. you always came quick with ellie, but so did she. that’s what made you both so obsessed with each other, your bodies worked together in harmony. but there was also a deeper reason, one that ellie wasn’t ready to talk to you about yet.

when your hips got erratic and sloppy, longer whines and deeper breaths escaping your plump lips, ellie would lean back on the couch and watch. she’d watch you come undone on her jeans, leaving an embarrassingly large wet spot. she’d hiss as she felt the fabric of her pants soak, dragging your hips slow and long. “look at that baby.. makin’ a mess on me like this.”

your head would fall into the crook of her neck, the bouncing of her leg coming to a halt. she’d let you sit there for a moment, taking in her scent. you weren’t sure why but you began to grow somewhat emotional. but you didn’t have time to fully process why before she was laying you on your back, rising from the couch. “stay there.”

she’d go back to her bag on the floor, taking out her long pink strap. the one she always used with you. only you. her pants would be flung to some part of the living room as she positioned the cock perfectly to herself, eyeing you on the couch. she’d notice your low head, though she hoped she didn’t. “you alright?”

you’d quickly blink back your tears, nodding your head as you kicked your pants off. she wouldn’t press you on it, and just walk closer to you. she’d spread your legs, not knowing what to say. but she felt like she should say something.

but ellie didn’t wanna talk about feelings. she wanted to make you cum. in her eyes that’s all you needed and then things would be good. that’s what usually worked for her wife anyways.

so she’d lay you back gentle, and push the tip of her cock in, watching how your face scrunched up. your fingers would dig into the couch as she pushed in further, holding one thigh up to your chest. “there you go baby..” she’d huff, feeling her hips finally press against yours. she’d go for your hand but you’d move it, avoiding her gaze before she began moving her hips again.

in this moment ellie was feeling conflicted. she felt mad. mad that you moved your hand, because that meant you were still mad. but she also felt hurt, because she wanted to be somewhat romantic.. try and makeup for where she fell short emotionally. and you weren’t letting her.

so this conflict transferred to how she fucked you. her thrusts that were once slow, turned a bit faster, deeper. her brows furrowed as she watched your eyes avoid her at all costs, you never did this before. she’d grip your chin, pulling your head down as her hips kept fucking into you.

“look at me.” she’d huff, waiting for your eyes to meet hers. when they didn’t, she’d wrap her hand around your jaw, a firmer grip on you now. your eyes of course met hers now, as tears brimmed your eyes. you didn’t wanna look at her at all. you just wanted to let her fuck you, make you feel good until she left so you could block her, never speak to her again.

but she wouldn’t let you not look at her. the tears in your eyes only made her groan, hating what it did to her. she should feel terrible your crying under her right now but she couldn’t. it only made her clit pound more. her thumb would wipe your tears, leaning down to press kisses across your wet cheeks.

“don’t cry baby.. i’m right here.” she’d say into your ear, dragging one hand down to rub your swollen clit. she’d feel you start to twitch under her as the whimpers you tried terribly to hide, grew louder. you couldn’t help but grip onto her wrist between your legs, a soft chuckle coming from her. “thas’ it baby let it go.. atta’ girl..” it was kinda pathetic how quick you still came for her, even after all the emotional distress she put on you today.

with her voice and how she rubbed that swollen nub it was impossible not to cum all over her cock. and she loved it. she loved how you clung onto her, chanting her name into her neck as your legs shook. that’s when her hips would begin to stagger, and her eyes would squeeze shut. she couldn’t help moan out your name either, as quiet as she tried. her fingers would dig into your hips as she came down, her breath whiny and slow.

she’d collapse onto your body as she rode out her orgasm, grinding against you and letting out the softest of whimpers. and you both would stay like that for a while, eventually you falling asleep with her still inside. ellie would stay though, listen to your heart beat and breathing, and just think. she was positive her wife had called and texted about a hundred times now. but she didn’t want to get up and leave you.

eventually she would get up though, reading the clock on the tv say 11:20. she’d dress herself first, thinking it was best to put you in pajamas rather than the same clothes. she’d tuck you in, and lay with you again. “i d’know why i cant leave.” she’d say to you but, really herself.

she’d just watch your sleeping face for another 30 minuets, before pressing a kiss to your lips, and making her way home. she’d think about you and her wife on the drive, feeling nauseous with guilt. she treated you both terribly, for her own selfish needs.

you never knew what happened to ellie though. when you’d wake up the next day, you’d see all the messages she sent you as she left, was driving home, even got home.

i miss you

when will you be back at the grocer? just got home

i cant stop thinking about you.. text me when you’re up

you never did text her back. you blocked her number, and began picking grocery stores across town, up to an hour away from home. you never stayed in the same one, always switching it to lessen the chances she finds you. or so you thought.

she’d always know where you are. she’d always stop at your house, parking 5 houses down. she’d watch you go to work and come home. she never bothered you, she knew she was wrong. but it hurt her every single day watching you continue life like what you both did didn’t mean anything to you. she gave up the day she saw you being another girls home after work, never driving past your home again.

girlies idk why but cowboy ellie to me seems like she’d be such a hoe. cowboys by default are super flirty so i wouldn’t put it past miss ellie

[anamina0]

Echoes

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V , Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII

Final part

Themes/warnings : mentions of death, mentions of blood, kissing , a lot of anger, a lot of unsolved emotions, fluff

Word count: 10.3 k

You stood up, wiping away the tear tracks on your face. They burned. You had rehearsed this conversation for so long, countless times in your head. You had pictured it, imagined what it would feel like, but now that the moment was here, all your plans felt like they were useless. Words just wouldn’t come out, no matter how hard you tried to find them. This conversation… you’d dreaded it, wished for it to never come. But deep down, you knew it couldn’t be avoided. You couldn’t lie to Vi. Not anymore. Not about something this important, even though doing this meant hurting the one person you had promised you’d never betray. But in the end, you had no choice. Vi deserved to know the truth, even if it felt like you were tearing apart everything that you held so close. This wasn’t your decision anymore. But telling her the truth meant tearing down everything you’d built between you—betraying your best friend, the person who meant so much to you. But this truth wasn’t yours to keep, and Faye had made sure of that.

“Shit,” you whispered under your breath, glancing at Vi. She was standing across from you, her confusion only deepening. She had no idea her world was about to change in a heartbeat, just like yours had. You were pacing now, hands shaking, voice unsteady. You couldn’t seem to calm down.

“I have no idea how to say this,” you mumbled. The words felt foreign in your mouth, as if they didn’t belong to you at all. No amount of thinking, no hours of preparation, could make them feel right. Your heart thundered in your chest.

“You’re freaking me out,” Vi said, her voice small, something almost fragile in it. She sank down onto the couch, trying to settle herself, though it was clear she was more anxious with every passing second. “Just tell me, okay? Whatever you’re scared of… it’s easier to just rip the Band-Aid off.”

You winced at her words. It felt as though she was already anticipating bad news. You looked down, blinking rapidly to push back the sting of more tears, trying to steady yourself before you spoke again. Taking a deep breath, you sat down next to her, slowly reaching for her hand.

“Before I say anything, just… know that you are the last person I ever want to hurt. Last person I’d want to betray,” you said quietly. Your hands were trembling as you held hers, desperate to make her understand, even though you knew it wouldn’t make things any easier. “You mean a lot to me. More than I’ve ever told you. I swear.”

Vi’s eyes softened, her gaze tender as she looked at you. There was a brief pause, a hint of something in the way she breathed. It seemed she knew, without you having to say it, that something had gone terribly wrong. She didn’t smile back, but she squeezed your hand, as if to remind you that she was with you, even through whatever this was.

“I know,” she murmured, her voice thick with something unsaid. There was sadness creeping into her voice now. “Just… say it. Please.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her for too long, your heart growing heavy as you tried to find the right words—words that might hurt her but were true, no matter how painful they were.

“Is it about Ellie?” she asked, her voice quieter now, as though she was already guessing where this was headed. “She came back, and I… I know there’s something between you two, still.” Her voice almost cracked as she spoke Ellie’s name. You could feel her worry growing.

The panic in your chest rose. You shook your head quickly, frantic. “No, no,” you blurted out, desperate to stop that train of thought. “It’s not about Ellie. It will never be about her. Me and Ellie—” You paused. “We’re done, Vi.”

You could see the uncertainty shift in her face, like a weight lifted a little, but her concern still hovered between you, as she waited for whatever would come next.

“Okay,” she said softly. “I’m listening.”

“Here it comes,” you whispered, taking in a shaky breath. You still couldn’t bring yourself to look her in the eyes. You had no idea how much more of this you could handle. “Do you remember that name Ellie mentioned? The girl who found my brother?” Your voice cracked just at the thought of it, but you pushed forward.

Vi’s brow furrowed for a moment, her lips pressing tight as she tried to recall the name.

“Kinda,” she said slowly. “There was… something about an F, right? But I can’t really remember it. ”

“Faye,” you replied. You almost didn’t want to say it. Saying her name felt like it would break everything all over again. “Faye… does that name mean anything to you?” You almost couldn’t look at her, but you forced yourself to, to catch the faintest flicker of realization—or maybe something worse—in Vi’s eyes.

She hesitated, eyes narrowing slightly as she thought.

“No,” she said after a moment, the disappointment obvious. “Maybe there was someone with that name in my past? Someone from prison, I don’t know… I don’t think they were important, though. I’d remember.”

“She is my best friend, Vi,” you whispered so softly you were almost afraid she wouldn’t hear you. “Or… she was. I met her few years ago. She was new in town—didn’t know anyone. I was the first person she got close to there.” You paused, holding back another wave of tears.

Vi was still confused, still searching your face for the meaning behind your words. You could see her trying to piece things together, her mind whirring with uncertainty.

“She would tell me all these crazy stories,” you continued, your voice growing more ragged. “Stories about her past, her family… She’d talk about her sister, the things they used to do, their life, everything. At first, I didn’t believe her. She never gave names, or clear details, just crazy stories… But over time, I got used to it .”

“Okay…” Vi said, barely above a whisper, her eyes narrowing, not quite understanding but getting closer.

“She told me to move here, when Ellie left..” you pressed on, your voice growing weaker with every word. “Told me to come to Zaun under one condition.”

Vi’s eyes flickered toward yours. “What condition?”

“That I would never, ever tell anyone about her,” you said, voice barely audible now, the truth crashing down harder than ever before. “I promised her that I would never tell anyone, that no one could know about Faye.” You felt your stomach turn, disgust at yourself filling you as you confessed the truth.

Vi was quiet for a moment, clearly taken aback.

“But you’re telling me. Why?”

You could barely even breathe. Your hands were shaking as you clenched them into fists. It was now or never, and there was no way you could run from it anymore.

“fuck,” you whispered, barely able to find the strength to speak, “I think Faye is your sister, Vi. I think… I think it’s Jinx. Powder. I think she’s still alive. And I think it’s her.”

“What?” she breathed, the word barely a whisper. “My sister is dead. Is that some kind of sick joke?” Her voice cracked. The anger came crashing over her, and you could feel it swirling in the air, suffocating you both.

"No Vi,” you began, your own voice a mere rasp now, thick with emotion. “I had no clue when I met you. But when you started telling me stories about your sister, about your past… It sounded so much like the things Faye had told me. It was identical, Vi. The same, same way she used to talk about her sister. That’s when I started thinking… Maybe. Maybe it’s her. So I had to find out. I went to Savika.”

Vi stared at you, and that rage started to rise—her hands trembling at her sides, chest heaving.

“And you went to Savika… you went behind my back?” she snapped, her voice rising, disbelief and fury pouring from her. “Why didn’t you come to me, huh? Why not me?”

“I couldn’t,” you gasped, trying to explain the confusion inside of you.

“I couldn’t! I promised Faye I wouldn’t say anything! I didn’t want to doubt her… but I had to make sure. I had to know the truth, Vi. I never meant for any of this to happen, but she’s alive—alive, Vi—out there, somewhere, living a completely different life!”

“You went behind my back to do your little investigation,to Savika?!” The words slipped like a dagger between you, shattering whatever tenuous hold you had over the situation. “I thought you trusted me,. Why couldn’t you trust me with the truth?”

You couldn’t speak. The sting of her words hit you harder than anything. She was breaking apart before you, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Vi stood now, hands clenched into fists at her sides, her breath shallow, furious, betrayed.

“Just go.” Her voice was a broken whisper of fury. “Please… just go.”

Every step you took toward the door felt like it would be the last. You had no words. No way to fix this. The silence between you was heavier than any words ever could be. All you heard as you walked away was the faint sound of your own heart breaking. You didn’t want to leave. But Vi’s words hit you like a wave, cold and sharp, crashing through everything you’d known between the two of you. She didn’t want you here. Not now. Not anymore.Every step you took toward the door felt like it tore a little bit more from you, from what you’d shared. The silence between you wasn’t just heavy—it was suffocating. It was the kind of silence that pushed you to the edge, forced you to confront the reality that everything you’d thought would bring you closer had pulled you apart. Vi didn’t look at you anymore. She just stared at the floor, arms folded across herself, trying to shield the pain you knew was there but couldn’t reach. You hesitated for a moment, one foot out the door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave completely. Not yet. Not when everything in you wanted to fix this. But the words—the anger, the disbelief in her eyes—they weighed on you, tied you down like a rope around your chest.

“Vi…” Your voice was small, trembling. You took one step back. “Vi, please… Talk to me. I didn’t—”

“Don’t,” she snapped, her voice harsh, cutting you off before you could finish. She wasn’t looking at you now; her gaze was focused somewhere past you, her jaw tight as if to keep herself from breaking. But you knew she was already shattered. Her whole world had crumbled, and you were standing at the edge of it, useless, helpless. She was so far from you now, farther than you’d ever been before, and it was all your fault.

“I can’t do this, ” she whispered, the rawness in her voice clawing at your heart. The hurt was palpable, burning. “I can’t… I can’t look at you right now. I can’t be here with you after what you’ve done. After what you’ve kept from me.”

You nodded numbly, still unable to look away from her.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, but the words felt hollow, barely enough to express everything you needed to say. But even now, standing on the threshold of what used to be your shared space, you knew it wouldn’t change anything. “I never meant for any of this, Vi. I just—I had to know the truth.”

“And now you’ve destroyed everything.” Her words, though quiet, stung worse than any sharp retort. “Everything I thought I could trust. Everything we had… it’s gone now. And I can’t—” She shook her head, cutting herself off again, her hands trembling in fists by her sides.

Tears welled up in your eyes, a bitter, salty wave threatening to break, but you refused to let them spill. You were the one who had broken everything, who had chosen to stay silent when you should’ve spoken the truth from the start. And now you had nothing left. No words. No promises. Only the reality that Vi’s anger, her betrayal—was something you had earned. You had to leave. You could feel it in your bones. But how could you? How could you leave like this?

“Vi…” Your voice was breaking now, a sob threatening to tear free.

She was silent for a long time, and for a brief, fleeting moment, you thought maybe—maybe she would look at you again, listen, understand that you never wanted this. That you never wanted to hurt her. But she didn’t. Her eyes stayed fixed forward, her breath coming shallowly, the emptiness between you expanding with every second.

“I can’t do this,” she said again, voice small, and yet somehow it was final. As if saying your name, one more time, would be all it took to leave the pieces of you both scattered, beyond repair. “Just go. Please. Go.”

A thousand things rushed through you then, but none of them mattered anymore. With her words, she had sealed it—this was the end. You couldn’t fix it, couldn’t undo it. She was shutting you out. You turned, your hand on the doorknob heavy as it grasped it, shaking just like the rest of you. There was a tightness in your chest, something aching, something worse than regret, as you looked over your shoulder once more. There she was—Vi, the woman you loved, and yet she felt so distant now. So unreachable. So far.

And then, quietly, softly—hopelessly—you left. With no one to look back to, no chance at redemption, only the bitter taste of your own mistakes lingering in the air behind you.

What were you supposed to do now? You couldn’t even bring yourself to think clearly. The silence of Vi’s apartment still haunted you, the echo of your conversation echoing in the space. It felt like your soul had been torn open, leaving nothing but raw, aching void inside you. You knew it wouldn’t end well, you always knew. The heavy realization sat like a stone in your chest. What could you do when the weight of it all was too much to bear? You headed up the stairs, your heart racing, mind buzzing with confusion.Stopping in front of your apartment, your stomach twisted as you remembered Ellie. It just felt like one more mess to clean up. You didn’t have the strength to face her either, not after what just happened. You didn’t want to face anyone, but you had nowhere else to go.

“I’ll just go in, go to my room, lock the door,” you murmured to yourself, grasping for anything that would give you some control over this chaos. But deep down, you knew there was no escaping from what was left of you after Vi.

You opened the door to find Ellie on your couch, her head slightly tilted as she sat up to face you. Her voice was soft, almost cautious.

“I didn’t expect you so soon,” she remarked, as if she already knew the weight in the air.

You didn’t reply, instead heading straight for your bedroom. With a quiet click, you closed the door, shutting the world out. And when you lay down, it felt like the weight of the universe pressed down on you. You weren’t okay—far from it. You were furious. At everything. At Ellie. At Vi. At Faye. At your brother. But mostly, at yourself. How had you let it go this far? You had known all along, hadn’t you? You let yourself fall for her, and no matter what you did, you’d be left alone, heartsick again, picking up the pieces of another broken story. Everyone you ever loved disappeared. They died - like your mother and sister, they left- like Ellie and your brother, or—like with Vi—you were the one who destroyed it. You had no idea how long you laid there before the gentle knocking brought you back to the world around you.

“Hey…” Ellie’s voice called quietly through the door. She paused, unsure of how to proceed. “I know I’m the last person you want to talk to, but… I’m here, you know.”

You didn’t move at first. You were too deep in your own misery to acknowledge her words. But you couldn’t let her see you like this, not with the fragile walls you had left. Not when the feelings swelled and pushed against every broken part of you.

“I’m fine, Ellie. Just go away,” you called back, but you knew she could hear the lie in your voice.

A few seconds of silence passed before the door creaked open, and there she was, standing just inside, the vulnerability radiating from her, soft and unsure.

“I said I’m fine,” you repeated more forcefully. You turned away from her, angry with yourself for even allowing her in. " I don't need your pity"

Ellie didn’t leave. Instead, you felt her sit next to you, her hand lightly resting against your back. You almost recoiled from the touch, but some broken, fragile part of you clung to it.

“I have no clue what happened there,” she started softly, “With her…” Her voice faltered before continuing. “But I know you. I know you wouldn’t come back here if something bad didn’t happen. And I…”

“And you think you’re the one who will fix this?” you snapped, finally turning to face her. You wiped at your tear-streaked face and let anger fill the space instead of grief. “Of all people… you.”

She didn’t flinch, just met your eyes with understanding.

“No,” she said, almost too quietly. “I don’t deserve to be here. But you… should work things out with her.” Ellie managed a soft, almost cynical laugh. “God, I can’t believe I’m saying this…” She sighed. “I’m so sorry. You should know, no matter what happened between you two, you’re not the one who should be let go of. There’s no one on Earth more deserving of love than you.”

You froze. Those words hit differently than anything you expected from her. This wasn’t the same Ellie who abandoned you. But what difference did it make now?

“Why are you telling me this?” you whispered, voice trembling like a secret you didn’t want to admit.

Her gaze softened, the truth pouring out of her in hesitant whispers. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself otherwise. I’ve spent all this time trying to forget you, trying to justify everything, but all I learned was that I should never have let you go.” She swallowed hard before continuing. “You were the best thing in my life. I should’ve never left… but I did, and now… now, I see the same thing happening with her.”

“You know,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath, “just a few months ago, I would’ve given anything to hear those words from you.” You couldn’t meet her eyes as you spoke—your gaze drifting to the floor, to the empty space between you both that felt impossible to close. “Despite all the anger, all the hatred, all the sadness I’ve felt because of you, I would’ve given anything, Ellie…anything to have you back in my life. But I thought you’d never come. I thought I ruined it, I thought I did something wrong, that you stopped loving me.” The words spilled from you, rough and jagged, like secrets whispered in the dark that shouldn’t see the light of day.

Ellie’s breath caught. Her hands were trembling just enough for you to feel the electric pull between you. She leaned in, close enough that you could feel presence so dangerously close, like she might kiss you right then and there, as if the words weren’t enough. She wanted you, craved it—the warmth of your skin, the softness of your touch, the kiss that she once gave with ease, now something so desperate in her eyes.

“But…” she breathed softly, barely able to pull back, searching your face like she didn’t understand the barrier between you. She needed you to finish it, to say something that would bring her closer, something that might bridge the gap of time and hurt.

“But what?” She sounded wrecked, breathless from whatever she could still feel between you.

“But it’s too late now,” you breathed back, pulling away. To give in, to fall into the familiar ache that was both torture and pleasure in her touch. But you couldn’t—not anymore. Not when Vi haunted you and your heart felt torn to shreds by what used to be.

Ellie laughed bitterly, trying to mask the sting, but you could feel her pain as sharp as your own.

“Because of that punk, huh?” She smirked, trying to joke, but it hurt her, just like it hurt you. You could tell.

You swallowed. Her attempt at humor didn’t hide what she was really feeling: jealousy, regret, loss.

“Yes. Because of Vi,” you said slowly, the words cutting like glass in your throat. Saying her name hurt more than you imagined it would, more than you allowed yourself to admit. “But I think we’re quite alike, Ellie,” you added, your voice thick with a truth you could no longer deny.

Ellie raised an eyebrow, confused, wanting to know what was coming. “In what?” she asked quietly, as if this conversation were opening old wounds that she hadn’t wanted to open.

“I just ruined everything,” you whispered, and the confession tore through your chest like a storm you couldn’t stop. “Just like you ruined everything with us. We both destroyed what we had, and now it’s…gone.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to reply. But there it was: the truth of it all. Your fractured past bleeding into this moment, and she was watching you unravel before her. It wasn’t what she expected, but somehow, it was real.

“What happened?” Ellie asked after a long, painful pause. Her voice was shaky, not like the confident, cocky girl you knew, but like someone grasping for understanding.

You took a long, trembling breath and dropped your head into your hands, pushing against the painful weight in your chest. Every inch of you ached. Your legs longed for something solid, something to keep you from falling apart completely. You invited her to sit beside you without thinking, your walls finally crumbling just enough to let her back in. Despite everything, despite how badly she’d broken you, you needed someone tonight. And the only person left in the ruins was Ellie. She sat beside you, quiet, her warmth almost suffocating in the still air. But it wasn’t the warmth that mattered now, it was the fact that she was there, and somehow, you needed it. The night stretched on as the words flowed between you, uncaring of the time. You told her everything—about Vi, about Faye. You talked about your brother still being alive, how he was caught up in this mess. You didn’t spare any detail, letting the painful truths tumble out of your mouth like they were the only thing left. It felt good. Good to tell someone, even if it was the wrong someone, even if it didn’t change anything. Somewhere in the middle of all that, the hate that had lived inside you for so long started to dissolve. It wasn’t gone—nothing like that—but the weight had been lifted, even just a little. The hours passed, her soft footsteps occasionally disturbing the quiet, waking you from the momentary respite you’d found in conversation. And then it hit you, a feeling so sharp you nearly choked on it. She wasn’t staying. Ellie was leaving. Again.

“I think I’m having déjà vu,” you said, the sarcastic chuckle falling from your lips with an edge of bitterness. You walked out of the room, letting the reality sink in, leaning against the wall. And for the first time tonight, you finally looked at her like she was a stranger, not someone who mattered to you at all.

“I’m sorry,” Ellie said softly, her voice flat, no trace of her usual strength. She was packing her things, her hands shaking slightly as she folded the straps of her bag together, organizing it like she was setting her life down for the last time. “I was going to say goodbye, but you had a rough night. I didn’t want to wake you yet.”

You leaned against the doorframe, numb, trying to laugh through it.

“Well, at least this time I knew you were leaving.” You wished you could feel something, anything, other than the painful ache of this goodbye you were forced to live with.

But Ellie didn’t laugh. She didn’t even look at you. She was busy throwing her backpack over her shoulder, coming closer with each small step. The space between you felt like an eternity, like it had always been too much. Too many walls.

“Just before I go…” she started quietly, and her hands were nervously twisting together like she was grasping for the right words. But this wasn’t the same confident girl that once was so sure. She faltered now. “I want you to know… I meant every word I said yesterday.”

You didn’t react, didn’t move, barely blinked. She stared at you, her gaze holding more than you could handle in that moment. You stayed still, terrified to respond, not knowing if it was your heart breaking again or just exhaustion pulling at the edges of your resolve.

“I love you,” Ellie whispered, and those words burned into your skin. There was regret in her voice, sorrow in the way she lingered there, unsure of what she could fix, of what was even worth trying anymore. “And I’m sorry for what I did.”

She moved toward you then, slow and hesitant, but the air between you crackled, pulsing, as if neither of you could quite control it anymore. And before you could even realize , her lips met yours, everything fell away. Her kiss hit like a memory you hadn’t asked for, an ache you hadn’t wanted to feel. Her hands gripped your waist, but you pushed her away. You couldn’t, you didn't want to do that.

“Don’t do that, Ellie,” you whispered, breath shallow. The kiss tasted like regret, like fire, like the love that would have destroyed you all over again.

“Fuck,” she whispered, stepping back but not letting you go. “Come with me. We can start fresh. Just you and me, we’ll start over.” She pulled you close again, her voice thick with emotion, wanting to change everything. But it was too late for that.

“Ellie…” you whispered, pain thickening your voice, too raw to speak through. One tear slid down your cheek, though it wasn’t your crying this time. It was hers. “It’s too late now,” you murmured, feeling your forehead rest gently against hers. There was something so sweetly tragic about this final moment. The tears you were both holding back spilled over, falling from your face as they mixed together.

“I’m afraid this is goodbye,” you said softly, the words breaking your heart.

Ellie just stared at you, her gaze clouded with emotion. It was like she was waiting for a future that no longer belonged to either of you. She moved back slightly, but her lips still brushed against your wet cheek.

“I’ll be waiting,” she whispered softly, like a promise she couldn’t make but still couldn’t take back.

As if you’d turn around and walk out with her.

“I’m not saying goodbye this time,” she added. She wiped another tear from your cheek, her eyes desperate.

But before you could respond, she was gone.

•• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •

It had been months, yet there was no sign of Vi. Every day since your last conversation with her, you had made your way to her apartment door. You knocked until your knuckles were sore, called her name until your voice broke, but the silence on the other side never changed. The truth didn’t hit you all at once. It came in waves, slow and cruel, when one day, a stranger opened that door instead. You stood frozen, staring at this new neighbor as they cheerfully introduced themselves, completely unaware of the storm inside you. Vi was gone. She’d moved out without a word. The world seemed to shift beneath your feet as you left, muttering something polite to the stranger while the realization pressed heavily on your chest. She wasn’t coming back. But that didn’t stop you—not entirely. Desperation kept you chasing shadows. Anytime you saw someone who looked like they might have known her, you found yourself asking, clinging to the faintest chance that someone had seen her.

“Vi?” you’d ask, voice breaking more with each time.

The answers were always the same. No. No one had seen her. It was as though she’d vanished completely, leaving nothing but the ghost of her behind. And even as months stretched on, she lingered in everything—her scent, her voice, her touch, all burned into your soul. There wasn’t a moment of any day when she didn’t consume you. When you weren’t aching for her. The longing was unbearable, gnawing at the edges of your sanity. You couldn’t escape her, no matter how much it hurt to think about what you’d lost. How you had ruined everything. You were still angry—angry at the world, at her, but mostly at yourself. How could you have let her in only to destroy what you had? It replayed in your mind like a cruel film reel—the look on her face, the way she broke apart. You hurt her so deeply, so fully, that she had to disappear to get away from it. The weight of it crushed you more with each passing day. You had done the exact same thing Ellie did to you. You left her no choice but to run. You couldn’t stop the spiraling questions that followed you everywhere. What if she went to find Jinx? What if something happened to her along the way? What if she was hurt, lost, somewhere she couldn’t make her way back from? And then, more hauntingly—what if she went to Piltover? What if she’s with Caitlyn now? What if she’s found peace, and you’re just a memory she’s glad to forget? Those thoughts made your chest tighten like a vice, but none of the answers—no scenarios you dreamed up—could ever fill the void she’d left. That emptiness was too vast, too overwhelming. It swallowed you whole, threatening to consume every part of you that wasn’t already drowning in guilt and longing. She has become your safety, your chaos. You tried to lose yourself in work, in sleepless nights, in meaningless tasks, but none of it mattered. Every thought came back to Vi. Every single one. And in her absence, the world felt quieter and crueler than ever before. Not even the memory of Ellie could distract you now. She was nothing more than a flicker in the background of your mind. Your brother, once the source of so much confusion and hope, faded into insignificance. Everything else paled when compared to her.

It all came back to Vi.

Always her.

And without her, you didn’t know how to keep going.

“You can’t interrogate every customer that walks in here, you know that, right?” Revek’s worried voice snapped you back to reality. His tone wasn’t scolding, just heavy with concern, like a parent watching their child teeter on a ledge.

“Huh?” you mumbled, forcing yourself out of your daze as you caught him leaning against the bar, arms crossed, his gaze sharp.

“I’m serious, kid,” he repeated. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” you asked, trying to sound indifferent as you busied yourself pouring a drink for the latest customer.

Revek wasn’t buying it. “You know exactly what I mean,” he pressed, his voice softer now. “You keep asking about her. Every damn day.” He paused, watching your face carefully, as if waiting for you to argue. When you didn’t, he leaned closer. “I know you want to find her. But it’s starting to feel like she doesn’t want to be found. Not by you, anyway.” His words cut deeper than you’d expected, like salt in an open wound. You froze, the glass you’d been holding forgotten in your hand.

“You have to accept that, kid,” he continued, his voice gentle but firm. “It’s not good for you to keep doing this. You’re tearing yourself apart.”

You set the glass down a little harder than you meant to, avoiding his gaze.

“Easier said than done, Rev,” you muttered under your breath.

“You managed to move on last time,” he added carefully, though the words felt like a slap to your face.

Your head snapped up, glaring at him with a flash of anger. His face didn’t flinch. He wasn’t trying to hurt you; he was just being honest. You sighed, your expression softening. Revek didn’t deserve your frustration—he was one of the few people who actually cared.

“I won’t ask anyone about Vi,” you mumbled finally, though the bitterness in your voice was obvious. “At least not anyone here.”

Revek gave a quiet chuckle, patting your shoulder as he straightened up.

“You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, kid. Stubborn and reckless.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, waving him off as he walked toward the back door.

Your shift ended quicker than you expected. For weeks you’d begged to take on extra hours—to open and close the bar—just to keep yourself busy, keep your mind too occupied to spiral. As the last of the patrons left, you cleaned up in silence, stacking glasses, wiping down counters, anything to avoid being alone with your thoughts. When everything was spotless, you slipped on your jacket, keys jingling in your hand as you locked the doors behind you. The cold hit you immediately, biting at your face and seeping through your clothes. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you tucked the keys into your pocket and started walking toward your apartment. Zaun was eerily quiet tonight. Too quiet. Usually, the air hummed with distant shouts, the rumble of machines, or drunken laughter in the distance. But not now. The stillness prickled at your nerves. The farther you walked, the heavier the silence became, your boots echoing softly against the damp pavement. You glanced over your shoulder, certain for the third time that you weren’t alone. The streets were nearly empty, but unease wrapped itself around you, squeezing your chest.

“Get a grip,” you muttered, shaking your head.

But as you reached a darker stretch of road, the feeling grew worse. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shadow move. Your stomach clenched. The shadow wasn’t yours. You quickened your pace, ears straining for the sound of footsteps behind you. Your breathing was faster now, your heart hammering. Something wasn’t right.

Then it happened.

A dark figure darted out from a nearby alley, and before you could react, a heavy force slammed into you from behind. You stumbled forward, gasping, your vision spinning. Something hard struck the back of your head, and the world lurched violently before slipping into darkness.The last thing you remembered was the cold pavement against your cheek and the faint, muffled sound of footsteps retreating into the night.

A sharp, pulsing headache pulled you out of unconsciousness. Your entire body felt heavy, and your head throbbed like a drum. Everything seemed hazy, like the moments before waking from a nightmare. For a split second, you didn’t remember how you got here. But then the taste of blood in your mouth brought clarity crashing down—cold pavement, a shadow, the sharp blow to your head.Panic surged as you opened your eyes, only to see nothing but suffocating darkness. Something was covering your head. You tried moving, but your wrists were bound tight behind your back, the coarse ropes digging into your skin. Wiggling, twisting—you struggled with everything in you, but it was no use. Your breathing grew rapid, panic clawing at your chest, when a voice cut through the silence like a blade.

“Look who decided to finally wake up,” a familiar, raspy voice teased from somewhere near you. Her tone was laced with mockery and amusement. “My dearest best friend,” she added with a dark chuckle, like it was all some joke.

Your blood ran cold. You didn’t need to see her to know. The venom in her voice was enough to tell you exactly who it was. Faye. No. Jinx. Powder. The fabric covering your head was ripped off, and light stung your eyes. You blinked rapidly, adjusting as her figure came into focus. She stood before you, cocky as ever, her pink eyes shimmering with mischief and something darker beneath. Danger radiated from her every move.

“YOU.” Your voice was dripping with anger. You glared up at her, your head pounding harder with every heartbeat. “Are you insane?”

Jinx tilted her head, unbothered by your outrage, and shrugged casually. “I’m not insane,” she said, her voice light and matter-of-fact, as though kidnapping you was the most rational thing in the world. “I’m just a bit… frustrated.” Her grin spread wide as she stepped closer, towering over you, every movement of hers a deliberate provocation.

“And this is how you deal with frustration?” you spat, wriggling in your restraints again. “By kidnapping me? Seriously?”

“Sheesh, calm down,” she giggled, rolling her eyes like you were the one being unreasonable. “Nobody’s kidnapping you, look around, you're in your apartment .”

“Oh, really?” You scoffed. “So tying me up and dragging me to… what are you doing Faye?”

Her grin faded into something colder. Her expression shifted, her anger bubbling to the surface as she leaned in closer.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she snapped. Her pink eyes burned into yours. Her jaw tensed, and she leaned closer

“ don’t play stupid with me. You knew she was my sister, and yet—” She stopped herself, the words strangled in her throat, then straightened up.

“No, you know what? Call me by my real name. The one you pretended not to know until it suited you.” She knew. Of course, she knew. Vi must’ve found her—and now Jinx was here, to confront you, to rip you apart for betraying her.

“Listen, Faye—” you began.

“Jinx!” she snarled, her voice sharper now, her pink eyes flashing.

You hesitated, swallowing the bitter taste in your mouth. “…Powder.”

The name hit her like a slap. You saw the flash of vulnerability in her eyes before rage swept it away again. She scowled.

“It’s Jinx!” she barked, stepping even closer, her hands clenched into fists.

“I’m sorry for what happened. Truly, I am,” you said quickly, your voice trembling, but genuine. You didn’t look away from her burning gaze. “I never wanted to hurt you—never even imagined I’d be in this position. But I didn’t know she was your sister. I didn’t know what to do. I had to tell her.”

Her steps faltered for a moment. She wasn’t saying anything, but you could feel her weighing your words. You kept going, even though your voice was shaking.

“I couldn’t keep that from her. How could I? Knowing how much she cared about you… knowing how long she believed you were dead. I couldn’t just sit there and lie to her.” A tear rolled down your cheek, unbidden.

“It wasn’t fair to her. It wasn’t fair to anyone.”

She stared at you with an unreadable expression as she paced slowly, her eyes darting back and forth like she was reliving old memories. She was a storm barely held together—a mixture of pain, rage, and something else. The silence felt like it stretched on forever.

“You promised me,” she said finally, breaking the quiet, her voice cracking under the weight of her anger and hurt.

“I know,” you said softly. “I did, and I broke that promise. I’m sorry. But I hope you can understand. Just like I understood when you tracked down my brother and told me the truth…”

“That’s different!” she yelled suddenly, spinning on you, her movements quick and frantic. She was all fire now, heat pouring off her in waves.

“Is it?” you challenged quietly. “Untie me. We should talk about this. No more yelling. No more games.”

She crouched down in front of you, her pink eyes meeting yours as if searching for something—truth, maybe, or some kind of betrayal hidden in the depths of your expression. Her gaze lingered on the wet trail your tears had left down your cheek.

“You love her,” she murmured, the statement cutting through the tension like a dagger. Her voice was quiet, almost bitter, and her fingers flexed at her sides.

“You’re… in love with my sister.”

The tension in the air was thick as you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You needed to calm Jinx down somehow, but the way her eyes were narrowing and her jaw was set told you this wasn’t going to be easy. And honestly? You didn’t blame her for being angry—she had every right to be.

“Listen,” you started cautiously, voice soft yet firm, “Jinx… I know it wasn’t my place to tell Vi about you. You don’t know how many sleepless nights I spent trying to talk myself out of it, trying to just stay away from all of this… from her. But I couldn’t. I didn’t have a choice.”

“You had no right to tell her!” Jinx snapped, her voice a mix of fury and something else—hurt.

“I know, and I’m sorry!” you murmured, your shoulders sagging as guilt wrapped around you like chains. “I swear, I didn’t want it to happen like that. But I had no other option.”

Jinx glared at you before she started pacing the small apartment, her movements quick and jerky. Her eyes flitted across the room, taking in everything with that restless energy she always carried.

“This apartment screams you, you know that?” she grumbled, her tone dripping with judgment as her gaze landed on your record player and the knickknacks scattered on the shelves. “All those stupid decorations. These records—do people even listen to records anymore?”

“Thanks?” you muttered dryly.

She waved you off like she hadn’t even heard you, though the corner of her lip twitched.

“So, what’s the deal now? You’ve clearly lost your mind over my sister. You two together or something? Is it all dramatic stares and tragic poetry?”

You blinked, her sudden shift catching you off guard. But something wasn’t adding up. If Vi had told Jinx where you lived, surely, she would’ve also mentioned that the two of you hadn’t seen each other in months. Unless…

“What are you talking about?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. “Vi and I haven’t seen each other in months. Wait… she didn’t tell you that?”

Jinx stopped pacing, spinning on her heel to face you, her lips curling into a sharp, mocking laugh. “Tell me what? I haven’t seen Vi in years, genius. Remember? She thought I was dead the entire time.”

Your stomach dropped as the realization hit you. “Wait. If you haven’t seen her, then who told you about me and Vi?” Your voice came out quieter than you expected, almost like you didn’t want the answer.

Jinx grinned, her eyes lighting up with a chaotic glee that made you instantly suspicious.

“Your grumpy ex told me, duh,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Ellie’s kind of my favorite now. Oh, and you clearly have a type.”

You stayed silent, not because you didn’t have anything to say, but because the weight of what Ellie had done for you was settling in your chest, heavy and unshakable. You understood now why she’d told Jinx about you and Vi, why she’d stirred a pot that wasn’t hers to touch. Ellie had always had this knack for doing what she thought was best for you, even if it meant tearing herself apart in the process. This wasn’t any different. Ellie loved you—she always had. It wasn’t the loud kind of love, the kind that demanded attention or screamed to be heard. It was quieter, deeper, a part of her she kept tucked away like an old scar. You knew it must’ve hurt her, the kind of pain that lingered and clawed at her, but she still ripped the bandage off for you. She didn’t want you stuck in limbo, hanging on to unresolved feelings or an unfinished story. No, Ellie had always been the one who pushed you toward the truth, no matter how ugly or painful it might be.She didn’t tell Jinx out of spite or jealousy. That wasn’t Ellie’s style. She’d done it for you. She wanted Jinx to understand who you were to Vi, to push Jinx into making peace with her sister so that you—both of you—could finally move forward. Ellie knew she couldn’t be the one to make you happy anymore, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want you to be happy. Maybe that was her way of letting go, or maybe it was her way of saying she still cared, even if you couldn’t love her back the same way. Either way, it was one last act of love—a selfless, bittersweet gesture that left her holding onto nothing but her own heartbreak. Jinx, oblivious to the growing storm of thoughts in your head, raised an eyebrow at your silence.

“What? Nothing to say? Bet you’re wondering if Ellie’s still into you.”

You didn’t respond, knowing she was trying to bait you.

Jinx grinned wider. “Honestly, if my sister doesn’t get her act together and show up, maybe you should go back to plan A. Ellie’s clearly still head over heels, right? Wait… did something happen between you two when she came back?”

“What? No!” you exclaimed, louder than intended. “Nothing happened!”

Jinx squinted, clearly unconvinced. “You’re sure? Because your face is saying otherwise.”

“Look, she appeared out of nowhere, okay? She dropped some bombshells about my brother—who you apparently found, by the way—and then kissed me. That’s it.”

“Ohhhh, I knew something would’ve happened!” Jinx shouted gleefully. “Was it dramatic? Did she sweep you off your feet or—”

“Nothing happened,” you cut in firmly. “I pushed her away, for the record. But yeah, the damage was already done.”

Jinx folded her arms and gave you a slow once-over, a smirk tugging at her lips. “What’s up with you falling for every emotionally unavailable—”

“Shut up.” You shot her a glare. “And untie me, seriously. This isn’t funny anymore. We have a lot to talk about… starting with my brother.” Your tone shifted, growing heavier, the humor replaced with determination. You weren’t going to let her dodge this conversation. Not this time.

" we will talk " she stood up , heading towards you "but not yet " before you could gather what was going on, she hit your head . Once again. And before you knew , you were unconscious.

Your head throbbed as the loud banging on your apartment door dragged you out of the black void. You opened your eyes, struggling to focus on your surroundings. The room was dark, faint streaks of light from outside barely illuminating the scattered chaos of the apartment. You blinked, trying to gather your thoughts, but the pounding in your head was overwhelming. You shifted slightly, groaning as a sharp pain shot through your skull. At least you weren’t tied up anymore. The banging on the door didn’t stop. Each hit felt like a hammer to your already throbbing head. You tried to speak, to call out, but your voice didn’t come. Instead, you groaned again, rolling onto your back and clutching at the pain radiating from your temple. The noise stopped abruptly, and silence settled, except for your shallow breathing. Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. A deafening crash suddenly shattered the silence.

The door. Someone broke in.

"Shit,” a voice cursed, panicked and familiar. You tried to turn your head toward the sound, but you couldn’t make out much beyond a tall silhouette moving quickly in your direction.

“Fuck,” they muttered again, and then they were kneeling beside you, their hands hesitating before reaching for you. “Hey, hey… are you okay? Talk to me.”

At first, you thought the voice was in your head, some cruel trick your brain was playing after everything Jinx had put you through. But then you felt her touch—warm, real, grounding. Your heart stuttered as recognition dawned. It wasn’t a hallucination. She was here.

“Vi?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, more breath than sound.

“Oh, thank god,” she exhaled, her relief palpable as she pulled you into her arms. “You’re alive. I thought…” Her voice cracked, and the raw emotion in her words made your throat tighten. Her touch, her voice, even the faint scent of her—it was all just as you remembered, painfully familiar and impossible to ignore. You sank into her embrace, your tears spilling before you could stop them.

“Vi.” Her name was shaky on your lips as you held her tighter, burying your face against her neck. Her warmth radiated through you, chasing away the fear that had settled in your chest.

“I’m here,” she whispered, her grip on you firm, as if she thought you might disappear if she let go. “I’m here.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to see her face in the dim light.

“You’re really here,” you whispered, your tears blurring your vision as you brushed your fingers over her arm, just to reassure yourself she wasn’t a dream.

“I am.” Her eyes searched yours, full of something you couldn’t quite place—relief, fear, anger, all jumbled together.

“What happened?” she asked urgently. “Are you okay? I thought… I thought something happened to you. Someone told me you were in danger, and I just… I ran. I didn’t think, I—”

“Jinx,” you murmured, cutting her off. “She paid me a visit.” You managed a weak chuckle despite yourself.

Vi’s jaw tightened, her hands trembling slightly against you.

“I knew this was one of her games,” she spat. “She sent someone to tell me you were in danger. God, I thought… I thought you were…” She trailed off, her words caught in her throat.

“I’m okay,” you reassured her softly, brushing your fingers over her hand. “I’m okay. Just… help me sit up.”

Before you could finish, she scooped you into her arms like you weighed nothing, carrying you to the couch. Her strength was effortless, her touch so gentle it nearly broke you. She switched on the lamp, and for the first time, you saw her fully. Her mesmerizing blue eyes, glowing with an intensity that felt like it could pull you under. Her tattoos, stark against her skin. Her pink hair, vibrant and wild. She looked… perfect. Breathtaking. Just as you remembered, if not better.

“You’re bleeding,” she said softly, her fingers

grazing the wound on your temple. You winced but tried to wave it off when you saw the panic flare in her eyes.

“Seriously, I’m fine, Vi,” you assured her, offering a small smile. “Your sister, though? Completely insane.”

Vi exhaled sharply, nodding. “Yeah, tell me about it. This isn’t even the first time she’s kidnapped someone I…” Her words faltered, her face suddenly pale as she realized what she was about to say.

Someone I love. The words hung between you like a spark, threatening to ignite everything. You stared at her, your heart pounding in your chest as the realization hit. It was always there, always simmering beneath the surface, but hearing it—almost hearing it—made everything click into place. Every sleepless night, every time you’d thought about her, craved her, longed for her, it all made sense.

“Where is she now?” Vi asked quickly, clearly trying to recover, but you weren’t letting this moment slip away.

“I have no idea,” you mumbled, but you weren’t even thinking about Jinx anymore. Your entire focus was on Vi—her eyes locked on yours, the vulnerability written across her face. She was intimidating, raw, beautiful, and you couldn’t stand it anymore. You didn’t even realize you’d moved until your lips met hers. The kiss was sudden, rough and desperate, like both of you were trying to fill the void the other had left. It was messy, teeth clashing, lips bruising. But as the seconds stretched into eternity, the kiss softened, your desperation bleeding into something tender, something raw. Her hands trembled slightly as they cradled your face, pulling you closer as if she were terrified you’d slip away. The taste of her lips, the feel of her warmth, sent waves of longing surging through you, but what lingered most was the overwhelming relief. Vi was here. She was real. You pulled back just slightly, your breaths mingling, foreheads pressed together.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered between kisses, your voice breaking as you rested your forehead against hers. Tears rolled down your cheeks again, but this time they were tears of release, of relief. “For everything. For hiding the truth about Jinx, for hurting you.”

Her breath mingled with yours as she smiled softly, her own tears catching the faint light. “I know,” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. She brushed her nose against yours, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips again. “I’m sorry too. For leaving. For being gone.”

Her honesty made your chest ache. “I didn’t think I deserved you,” you admitted quietly.

Vi brushed her fingers over your cheek, her eyes soft but filled with determination.

“At first, I was so angry,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Angry at Jinx for making me think she was dead, and angry at you for keeping it from me. I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I did the only thing I’m good at—I ran. But the longer I was gone, the more I realized…” She paused, her thumb brushing away a stray tear on your cheek.

“I thought I was going to lose you. And I realized I couldn’t survive that. Not again. Not when… not when I love you.”

Her voice cracked on those last words, raw and vulnerable, as though saying them aloud made her break. She buried her face in your neck, pulling you close like she needed to fuse herself to you, like you were the only thing keeping her together.

“Vi…” Your voice trembled as you pulled her closer, your hands gripping onto her desperately, like letting go of her would mean losing the ground beneath you.

“I love you too,” you whispered, your lips grazing her ear as you spoke. You choked on your next words, your chest heavy with the weight of every emotion you’d held back for so long. “I tried to push it away, to pretend I didn’t need you, but I do. I need you, more than anything, more than anyone.”

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her blue eyes glistening with tears but filled with something fierce—relief, adoration, devotion. She exhaled shakily, her lips tugging into a small, fragile smile. “Say it again,” she whispered.

You cupped her face with both hands, brushing the tears from her cheeks as more fell from your own.

“I love you, Vi.” The words came out stronger this time, filled with every ounce of your heart.

Her breath hitched as she surged forward, kissing you with everything she had. Her lips were salty from tears, but they were soft and full of promise, of every unspoken word between you. Her hands tangled in your hair, holding you like you were her lifeline, like she couldn’t bear to let you go.

" get a room you two " sharp, familiar voice suddenly cut through the charged atmosphere between you and Vi. Both of you froze, the moment shattered like glass. Vi’s brow furrowed as she snapped her head toward the voice, her body instinctively shielding you.

" My plan has worked, once again" Vi’s jaw clenched as realization dawned, and you could feel the ripple of tension through her frame. Slowly, she turned to face the figure behind her—someone she had believed, for so long, was lost to her forever.

" Hey sis " Jinx mumbled, her voice unexpectedly soft, though her eyes betrayed a storm of emotions.

•• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• •• ••

Yet another chaotic, lively night filled the bar. The room buzzed with energy—laughter spilling over from clusters of friends, glasses clinking together, and the thrum of low music weaving warmth through the air. Tables were packed, couples leaned close over shared secrets, and the familiar smell of cheap liquor and Zaun’s ever-present grit grounded you in this moment. It was chaos, but it was your chaos. You thrived in it, finding bits of yourself among the people who called this part of Zaun home.

“Can you believe this guy just lost ten packs of cigarettes to me in one sitting?” Revek’s voice rumbled as he sauntered up to the bar, slapping a satisfied hand against the counter.

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “Amazing. Your lungs are gonna thank you for that one,” you teased, smirking as you leaned forward to fix a wobbly glass.

“Don’t act all high and mighty,” he retorted with a deep laugh. “I’ve seen you steal a cigarette or two when you thought I wasn’t paying attention, you little liar.”

“Shut up, old man,” you hissed back, though a smile cracked your feigned irritation. Revek always had a way of making you laugh, no matter how exhausting the day had been.

He smirked and winked. “Speaking of cigarettes, I’m overdue for one now.” He pointed toward the back door, already reaching for his pocket. “Hold the fort, will ya?”

“I always do,” you replied, shooing him away playfully.

Tonight was busy—louder than most nights—but instead of draining you, it energized you. The hum of life in this place reminded you why you stayed, why you found comfort within Zaun’s controlled chaos. Even when things went wrong, this bar had become a haven, a tether to stability in a world that often didn’t make sense. The doors swung open suddenly, the motion catching your eye. Instantly, the corners of your mouth tugged into a smile. A familiar figure strode through the threshold, confidence in every step, her electric pink hair unmistakable. Vi.

She saw you almost immediately and grinned, shaking her head slightly as she approached. Her stride quickened as she crossed the room, her intense gaze locking onto yours with that unmistakable spark of mischief.

“Hey there, stranger,” she said smoothly, a teasing lilt in her voice as she leaned against the counter, her elbows resting casually on the worn wood. Her smirk was downright dangerous as she bit her lip, her eyes sparkling. “Care to make me a drink?”

You chuckled softly, pretending to be unimpressed.

“We were supposed to meet at home later, you know.” You tilted your head knowingly as you reached for a glass, already preparing her favorite drink.

She shrugged, her grin widening as she leaned closer. “What can I say? I couldn’t wait to see you,” she murmured, her voice low and dripping with honesty.

Heat bloomed in your chest, your heart fluttering as her presence overwhelmed your senses. Without thinking, you leaned forward, her face so close to yours that your noses nearly touched. Your lips met in a kiss—soft and slow at first, but as her smile curled into it, she tried to deepen it. But the sound of a sharp, exaggerated cough from the doorway cut through the intimate moment.

“Thirty minutes!” Revek called out loudly, his rough voice breaking the spell. He stood by the doorway with a cigarette dangling between his fingers, smoke curling lazily into the air. “Shift ends in thirty minutes, lovebirds. Surely you two can wait till then.”

You pulled back reluctantly, laughing under your breath as Vi groaned dramatically.

“Sorry, Rev,” she replied with an unapologetic smirk. Her tone was playful, but her hand still lingered on the counter near yours.

Revek chuckled, shaking his head as he blew out another puff of smoke. “Vi, you’re gonna be the reason I have to fire my best employee,” he joked, but his tone betrayed the affection he felt for you both.

Turning back to Vi, you couldn’t help the way your chest swelled at the sight of her. The teasing curve of her lips, the confident edge in her stance, and those intense blue eyes—they held your heart hostage every time. You couldn’t look at her without falling deeper.

“I’ll be waiting outside, stranger,” she murmured, her voice just loud enough to reach your ears. The warmth in her tone felt like an echo that would linger long after she left. She leaned in once more, brushing her fingers lightly against your hand—a touch so fleeting but electric—and then disappeared back into the night. Her words left you breathless, stirring something deep within your chest as you finished the shift with your mind elsewhere. Vi always had a way of making you forget the rest of the world—of anchoring you to her, no matter what storms tried to pull you apart. She’d wait for you, and you’d always follow her.

Author's note: I truly cannot believe that this story is done . It was my first time ever writing something and Echoes became even more important to me since creating this story made me fall in love with writing . I want to thank everyone who even once liked, shared, commented on my story, you guys were the ones who motivated me into finishing it .

As for the last chapter, it took a long time to write it. I wanted to make everything perfect, give each character a deserved (or not so) ending. Please let me know thoughts about it, don't hesitate to message me, to comment, chatting with you guys truly makes my day!

P.S. I will most definitely continue writing more stories, I can't wait to share more with you.

Thank you!

[mj0702]

For @helen-with-an-a and her master brain and for @valewosomtb because she's now officially allowed to run people over now

You just wanted to do something nice. For Ona. Who looked after you the whole week while Lucy was away all the way back in England to “get some things sorted” - namely selling the house Keira and she bought all those years back. The house you basically grew up in. But now was not the time to dwell on long gone things. Now was the time to worry. To worry about Ona. She was maybe small – but she was also damn scary.

You watched all them firefighters weaseling in and out of your (Onas and Lucys) house in their full firefighter clothes with breathing mask so they don't inhale all the smoke. The smoke you inhaled. Oh Lucy gonna be so pissed. You sat in the back of an ambulance, your arm bandaged all the way up to your shoulder an oxygen mask over your nose and mouth like you were starring in an episode of Grey's Anatomy. You looked up at the paramedic who smiled at you with pity in her eyes as she pulled another liquid into a new syringe

“Hey ehrm... quick question” you said your voice raspy as you pulled the mask from your face

“Yes?” the paramedic – who looked a LOT like princess norwegian – looked away from the medication and right at you

“Ehrm... how long will that take until everything is done and all of you guys are gone again?” you asked a little embarrassed

“You got a deep 2nd degree burn and a smoke in your lungs and you really want us to go?” the dark haired medic asked confused

“Yeah...” you looked up shyly

“Yeah sorry that's not going to happen” the woman said smiling slightly “... we need to take you into hospital but we have to wait for an adult that gives us consent to do so... so no, we won't leave in the next few minutes”

“I'm an orphan...” you quickly said

“Oh please” the dark haired woman snorted “... you really think we don't know who you are? If I have to I contact Alexia Putellas”

“Ona is going to kill me” you mumbled as you pulled the mask back over your nose

“Ona Batlle” the paramedic asked as she pushed the liquid into you IV

“Yeah...” you croaked under your mask before you started to cough

“Looks like you're out of luck...” the spanish paramedic smirked nodding towards the end of the street where you could see a black Cupra with an open drivers door and a blonde woman sprinting up the hill towards the scene

“Fuck me... hide me....” you coughed “... better... kill me... you're probably way softer about it... she'll just rip me head off”

“The panicked expression on her face tells me she won't rip your head off” the woman smiled after she took a quick glance at Ona

“That's her disguise... she always looks nice and friendly and approachable but no no....” you croaked out “... she's pure evil... small... but pure evil... she didn't allow me dessert the last three nights”

“So evil” the woman snorted “... is that why you tried to get into her good books again?”

“No.. that was supposed to be just a thank you” you mumbled

“Bebita...” Ona suddenly appeared next to the ambulance her face panicked her breathing labored

“I swear I had good intensions” you immediately said shuffling back a little bit

“Are you okay?” the blonde spaniard asked checking you over “Your arm... what's with your arm?”

“2nd degree burn... we have to take her in but we needed an adult to give consent” the paramedic woman said trying to keep her face neutral but everyone could see the smirk that was forming on her lips

“Yes yes of course...” Ona said quickly “... take her”

“What?” you squeaked out shocked “... you can't let them take me”

“To the hospital Bebita... I promise I'm right there with you okay?” the blonde said gently

“Just hop in... you can ride with us” the dark haired woman said and immediately Ona stepped into the Ambulance

“Ona.....” you whined as you saw the doctors and nurses speed walking past your hospital bed

“It's okay Bebita” Ona said softly holding your left hand her thumb stroking over your knuckles in a calming manner

“No.... everything went wrong” you felt tears prickle in your eyes

“I don't care what happened Bebé...” the spaniard said gently “.... all that matter is that you are okay”

“No...” you chocked out

“No? What you mean no?” Ona asked confused

“I ruined everything” you sobbed as Ona started to brush your tears away

“No no Bebita... everything is okay... you are okay and that's I need” the blonde kept her voice soft

“I swear I just tried to make something good” you kept crying and at one point Ona realized it was the painkillers that made you cry

“Something good hm?” Ona smiled when she saw how the pain medication kicked in

“I wanted to make you paella” you sobbed heartbreakingly “... like you always make it”

“Oh Bebita” the blonde sighed

“I went with Mapí to the market thingy to buy sea creatures and that was a disaster because Mapí bought a whole fin thing” you started to ramble while Ona had to bite her lip hard to not burst out laughing “... a WHOLE one... with all the inside stuff... when she asked if I wanted a whole fin thing I thought she meant like... not whole...”

“Hm...” Ona just hummed amused

“... and then we got some of them... crab snippy thingies... the bigger ones... the ones that always look at Lucy when she eats them” you kept on rambling not even caring that Ona had to work really hard not to burst out laughing at your misery “... and I said “just two” and Mapí talked speed spaniard and you know I can't follow speed spaniard”

“I know Bebita... your spanish got very good” the blonde praised you but you didn't even noticed it as you just kept on talking

“... I wanted to snippy snappies not two kilo... so I had a whole fin thing with inside stuff and a bag full of snippy snappies... and Maps was so proud of herself that she was the bestest translator that I couldn't tell her she got it all wrong” you sniffed

“What happened then?” Ona asked keeping you occupied since you didn't even noticed the nurse that started to change your bandage

“Well... I went to the beach and made a snippy snappie race to see which ones are the slowest so I wouldn't kill the best ones... they have the best chance to survive... so I let them free on the beach but they didn't race each other... they... just ran in different directions and in the end I had no snippy snappies” you sobbed “... but I still had the fin thing so I went home and thought I just make rice with fin thing for you and order burger for me... I don't like fin thing... bleh”

“I know Bebita... you don't like fish... or sea food in general” the blonde smiled

“So when I came home I had to... cut..” you started to heave

“Deep breath Bebita....” Ona said calming

“Do you know how much things fin things have inside them... so so many things” you gagged again “so I got all the insides outside and I figured we need an alligator so the insides just don't lay around on the outside in the kitchen”

“An alligator? You could have also just used the trash bin” the blonde chuckled

“His name is Jesús... he'll be such a good gator...” you said wishfully as a doctor checked out your arm making you wince in progress

“So you really prepared a fresh fish for me Bebita” Ona said distracting you from the pain

“Yeah... it was really bleh...” you scrunched up your nose your eyes glassy

“So... how did you end up occupying a whole fire department?” the blonde mused

“Oh yeah... so I made the rice yeah... I followed the YouTube steps to the brim...” you got back on track of your retelling what happened “... and put the fin thing in the pan... and then I remembered that I saw that thing on that show...”

“That thing on that show?” Ona asked confused

“Yeah... you know...” you showed a pan swivel motion

“No.. I don't but please continue” the blonde shook her head

“So I looked in Lucys adult cupboard...” you started again

“Wait... Bedroom or living room??” Ona interrupted quickly

“There's an adult cupboard in the bedroom?” you asked confused tilting your head

“No... no... absolutely not” the blonde back paddled quickly shaking her head

“Oh... okay... alcohol is not good in the bedroom... only alcoholics have alcohol in the bedroom” you slurred “... so I went to get some of the alcohol and put it in the pan like they always do in the show”

“Oh god...” Ona groaned suddenly knowing what you were talking about

“So I tried to make it extra crispy but it wouldn't... poof you know” you looked at Ona but in reality you looked through her “... so I took a match and threw it in there and then it went... poof... big poof”

“Oh Bebita” the blonde started to pinch the bridge of her nose

“I tried to extinct the fire but then my sweater got very warm and it got very... smoky and yeah... next thing I know is that the men with the heavy boots kicked in the door” you at least had the audacity to look guilty

“Bebita... I really appreciate you going out of your way to make dinner for me but PLEASE don't get yourself in danger like that” Ona said seriously but you were already looking in the other direction

“Did you know we are in a hospital?” you asked looking around in awe

“I'm feeling like I lived through that before” the blonde mumbled as you pointed at an exit sign

“That's so pretty” you said in awe “Pretty green”

“Mhm...” Ona hummed stroking over your forehead trying to calm you down so much that you fall asleep

“You’re also very pretty…. Pretty spaniard” you slurred

“That would be Alexia but thank you Bebita” Ona chuckled

“Oni...” you mumbled “... I'm getting sleepy”

“Then sleep Bebita” the blonde whispered gently hoping you would listen to her

“But the green is so pretty” you mumbled your eyes darting back to the exit sign

“I'll get you your very own pretty green sign if you close your eyes and sleep for a few minutes” Ona said softly

“Okay” you sighed deeply closing your eyes falling asleep instantly

“No Lucy... she's not badly hurt” you heard Ona speaking softly her thumb still running over your knuckles “.... her arm is burned and she inhaled a bit of smoke but the docs say she'll be good in a week or so”

You made a low whining sound resulting in Ona looking up and over at you

“She's waking up...” the blonde said into the phone “... I'll call you later okay? Yeah... Love you too”

“Hey Bebita... how are you feeling?” Ona asked softly

“Me throat hurts” you whine still half asleep

“That was to be expected Bebé” the blonde hummed stroking over your cheek

“I really didn't mean to cause trouble” you mumbled ashamed

“I know Bebita....” Ona kept her voice soft “.... but Lucy and I decided that you'll take some cooking lessons... with my Mamí”

“It was all Mapís fault...” you whined “... she started the whole fuck up with buying the wrong fish”

“We'll work on your cooking okay?” the blonde said gently seeing how your eyes start to fall shut once again “... sleep some more Bebita... I'll be here when you wake up again”

“Hey Bubs...” you heard a soft voice next to you “... open your pretty eyes for me okay?”

“Five more minutes” you mumbled trying to turn away just to turn onto your burned arm making you shoot up clutching your arm in pain

“Easy Bubs...” Lucy reacted quickly moving your hand away from your bandaged arm “... easy... breath Bubs”

“Owie” you whined tears shooting into your eyes

“Yeah.... you really outdid yourself this time” your sister chuckled “... Keira is not happy”

“Owie” you whined again

“Mhm...” Lucy hummed “... I just woke you up so I can force some more medication down your throat”

“No” you looked at your sister pitifully

“Yes...” your sister smiled gently “... come on Bubs... just two pills and then you can sleep again”

“Lucy” you whined just realizing your sister sitting next to your bed – your own bed “... when did I go home?”

“I got you home last night” Lucy smiled still holding two pills in her palm

“I....” you looked confused

“I know... you were dead to the world” your sister chuckled “Open”

“Nooooo” you whined pulling your head away from Lucy

“Bubs you know I will get these pills down your throat” Lucy said gently grabbing your chin “It's either you take them or I'll make you OR I'll get Keira... you have to take them... one is a painkiller and one is an antibiotics”

“You're so mean” you huffed but opened your mouth

“I know... good girl” your sister smiled popping the pills into your mouth holding out a glass of water “... swallow”

“I'm not Ona” you grumbled as you grabbed the glass

“Don't start....” Lucy warned you but still smirked “... open”

You opened your mouth showing your sister you swallowed the pills

“Good.... now... will you behave when Ona changes your bandages?” your sister asked

“It won't hurt right?” you asked scared

“No.... the nurses showed us how to do it” Lucy said gently as Ona entered the room carrying several bandages and creams

“No no no no no” you said as you saw the materials shuffling away from where Ona put the stuff down

“It's okay Bubs” your sister said calmly “... it's not going to hurt”

“I don't like that” you tried to get away but Lucy quickly got you and just pulled you in between her legs so you have know chance to run

“It's okay.... it won't hurt” Lucy repeated over and over again

“No Lucy please” you sobbed as your sister hugged you tightly into her

“Okay... okay... calm down” your sister said quickly “... we won't do it”

Ona shot Lucy a quick look and Lucy just shook her head before she returned to whisper sweet nothings against your temple to calm you down

“I thought we won't change...” Ona started half an hour later

“.... she's out cold... of course we change her bandages...” Lucy said as she carefully held your arm for Ona to unwrap it

“She's going to kill us” the blonde catalan mumbled working as quickly as she could

“We'll let her call Alexia later... she'll wake up high as a kite again.... she'll be so happy to talk to the “pretty spaniard” for as long as she wants” your sister grinned making her girlfriend chuckle

“I'm sorry Lucy... I really am” Ona said her voice low as she carefully pulled the compresses off your arm cleaning the burn

“What are you sorry for?” Lucy asked confused still holding your arm

“You trusted me with her... she got hurt... I should've...” the blonde started her voice breaking slightly

“Babe no... no no no” your sister quickly interfered “... it's not your fault”

“You left her under my watch and she got hurt... how can it not be my fault?” Ona sniffled lightly as she started to wrap your arm back up

“She's a klutz Babe... no one holds you responsible... not Keira... not Bubs... and definitely not me” Lucy said seriously “... you know how often she got hurt just because I turned around for a second... trouble finds her... I swear there's ONE glass shard on the whole beach... I guarantee you you she'll steps into it...”

“I got so scared when I saw all these firefighter trucks and ambulances....” the blonde confessed lowly “... I got scared for her but then I also got scared you could hate me”

“I could never hate you Baby... I love you” your sister said softly as she gently placed your arm back down

“.... now let get out of here and let her sleep and I show you just how much I love you” Lucy smirked pulling Ona out of the room while you snored peacefully

[queenlucythevaliant]

have you ever heard it? can you remember?

i. The gulls were crying. The gulls were always crying, in her memory. Whatever far off places Susan travelled after her family was gone, she always came back to the sea.

ii. The beach at Cair Paravel was the first place in Narnia where she really felt at home. She'd wade into the water with her eyes shut and feel she could be in England, on holiday with her mother and father. She'd open her eyes, and there would be waves cascading endlessly towards her.

iii. Before long, she knew every tidepool, every shoal.

iv. There weren't any bathing suits in Narnia, but no one seemed the least scandalized when Susan took to swimming in her underthings. There wasn't anything else for it, and she had to swim. She just had to.

v. She wasn't the only one of her siblings to love the sea, of course. Edmund loved sand and sailing and reading on the beach, and Peter liked to gaze out at the ocean and think. Lucy spent even more time at the beach than Susan did; she would rise before dawn and sit on the rocks as the sun rose over the waves. Susan was never sure whether her little sister was there to greet the sunrise, or to wait for Aslan.

vi. But for Susan, it was sense-memory. Water was water, wherever she was, and it always reminded her of home. She'd go out past the breakers, pull her limbs into a familiar breast stroke, and she'd feel like she was everywhere she loved all at once.

vii. Aslan came, and she was soaking wet to greet him. He laughed, in his lion-ish way, and didn't mind at all when Susan embraced him.

viii. Somehow, Aslan never got drenched from his journeys across the sea, but he was damp as though with mist. The scent of salt and brine clung to him, an overtone to that fierce, wild smell that was his own. Susan breathed in deep, those two scents she loved most in the world.

ix. In England, back at school, she'd go to the swimming pool and imagine she was in Narnia.

x. It wasn't the same, of course. The swimming pool at her school had no crying gulls, no smell of salt, no cascading waves. There was no Aslan coming towards her from the T-line at the other end of the pool. But if she submerged herself completely, Susan could imagine.

xi. She swam with her eyes shut too often, and her coach was growing irritated. It was affecting her times in practice, which would bleed over into competition if she wasn't careful. Somehow, Susan couldn't be bothered to care.

xii. One weekend, she and Lucy snuck away to visit the boys, and they all went down to the lake to reminisce about Narnia. When Lucy and Edmund spoke of their summer sailing the eastern sea, Susan was positively stiff with jealousy. Yet when they all dove into the water in the end, her heart pounded out a rhythm of home, home.

xiii. Six years after her last trip to Narnia, Susan hadn't touched a bow in four years. She still went swimming every week.

xiv. After the railway accident, she went to live by the sea. She missed her family, and she couldn't stand to live in the places they had lived. She wanted to forget.

xv. Susan had missed the salt air. She had missed the waves. There was a feeling of home by the sea that she couldn't quite place; a soothing echo of long ago dreams and fairytales.

xvi. But there were the gulls crying, "Can you remember?" and it broke her heart all over again.

[hazyfaith]

Head Kisses

Pairing: III x Reader CW: implied that reader wears makeup, slightly suggestive but nothing happens, fluff.

Summary: III wants to change his hair and needs your help to achieve his new look.

Word count: 2.2k

The signature creek of the front door caught III’s attention, prompting him to pull a beanie over his head. You had left early this morning to go to the nearest town to run some errands and had accidentally woken him up while you were getting ready, not that he was mad about it. The sun shone through the curtains of your room, hitting your silhouette in the dreamiest way. He was drooling at the sight of you getting dressed, knowing he was the one who you would come back home to. You kissed him goodbye, fighting to not be pulled back in bed as IV was waiting for you outside. 

When you walked out of your bedroom, III turned to take your pillow and closed his eyes again, attempting to get one or two more hours of sleep. Unfortunately, he laid there, unable to go back to dreamland as II decided to play his drum like his life depended on it, making the whole manor shake. After only a couple minutes, he decided to get up and start his day, not having any plan for the day. He went back to his bedroom to find some clothes, and small rectangular boxes in his wardrobe caught his eyes. Hair bleach and hair dye. 

He remembered a haircut he had saved on his social media and had been wanting to recreate for some time now, and today was the day. Quickly, he threw the boxes on his bed and put on an old shirt and pair of joggers before heading to the bathroom. 

He took the clipper and a guard out from under the sink, getting right into it. Even if he was known for experimenting with his hair, he never had anything remotely close to a buzzcut. Strands of blond hair were falling off his head and into the sink. In just a few minutes his whole head was done, his hair now really short. He couldn’t even run his fingers through his hair anymore. 

His roots had grown back and needed to be bleached again before he could dye his hair the way he wanted. He set a towel on the counter to protect it before pulling out the bottles, bowl, combs and gloves from the box. He began to carefully read the instruction sheet even though he had done it before, fearing that he could end up looking like a fool. He meticulously poured both bottles in the bowl and mixed well with the comb. He then scooped a bit of the mixture to his hair, taking a deep breath before putting the bleach on his hair, always a nerve-racking moment. 

It had taken him way too long to apply bleach all over his head, even with his almost buzz cut. After letting it sit for 20 minutes, he rinsed his head and dried it to see the final result. Looking at himself in the mirror, he was satisfied with the colour and he only had to wait for your return to finish his new look. 

As you step into the manor, your nose scrunches up due to the horrid smell coming from inside. You carefully remove your shoes and put the groceries away before walking through the hallway, to the living room where you find III sitting on the couch. At the sight of you, he gets up to hug and kiss you, only to be pushed away.

“III! What happened to your shirt?” you ask, pulling at the top of his black shirt where orange blobs appeared throughout the day. He really tried to protect his clothes by putting an old towel over his shoulder, but it fell halfway through the application of the product. With his gloves full of bleach, he didn’t want to pick it up and make a bigger mess than he already did. He debates trying to explain to you what he’d been up to while you were gone, instead he just lifts his hat, revealing his hair. 

You gasp before resting your hands on his head, slowly ruffling the now short blonde hair. 

“Do you like it?” III laughs nervously, unable to read your facial expression. 

“Of course, I do! It’s a little change, but I like it.” 

“Great! But I wanted to ask for your help with something. Could you draw little lips on my head with red dye…”

“You want to dye part of your hair red?” You question, unsure of what he wants.

After showing you the inspiration pictures, a small argument ensues between the two of you. You argue that it would make him look unprofessional and III keeps insisting that it doesn’t really matter and that he could pull his hood up like IV if it was bothering someone. He also tries to bribe you, promising to take you out to your favourite bakery and get you your favourite pastries. 

Despite being reluctant to do this, you know how much III likes to experiment with his look so you agree to help. He pulls you by the wrist to the bathroom where he sits down on the edge of the bath, ready for you to start your artwork. 

By no means are you an artist, which makes your doubt your decision. Your breath catches in your throat at the thought of ruining your boyfriend’s hair with your inability to draw even a stickman. Staring into the void, you think about how you could do the least amount of damage. III rubs the back of your hand, hoping to reduce the sudden stress that you radiate. Turning your head to look at his beautiful smile, an idea pops into your head: use lipstick as a guide.

You walk back to your room, straight to the black vanity in the corner. Ruffling through the drawer full of unorganized products, you pull out every lipstick you own until you find the reddest one and walk back to the bathroom where your perplexed boyfriend is waiting patiently. 

Looking into the big mirror, you apply a generous amount of the red liquid on your lips before approaching III’s head. He purses his lips and closes his eyes, ready to receive a kiss, but he never did. Instead, you turn his head to the side and kiss the freshly cut and bleached hair, earning a surprised yelp from him. Opening his eyes, he looks at you, confused about what you just did. Don’t get him wrong, he loves when you kiss him anywhere, but why would you kiss his hair after applying lipstick?

“I’m creating guides, I don't want to mess it up…” you say, as if you could read his mind. 

He doesn’t ask questions and let you do what you started, not wanting to disturb your creative process. You take a hold of his head, moving it around as you kiss all over his hair. Once you are satisfied with how many stains there are, you take a step back and give III a smile. Without a word, you take the red box dye and mix everything into a bowl with the hair colour brush. 

“Are you ready?” you ask, the brush full of dye dangerously close to the back of his head. 

“Go for it, sugar!” he exclaimed. 

Not wasting a second, you put the side of the brush against his red-lip stained hair. You take your time, outlining the first pair of lips perfectly before filling it in. You slowly make your way around his head, moving around him at the start of every new outline, the hair colour brush in one hand and the bowl in the other. 

Both sides and the back of his head are done, leaving only the front and top to do. As you moved around, you end up in front of III, in between his legs. He takes this as permission to put his large hands on your hips, his thumbs rubbing up and down against your shirt. 

While you keep focusing on his hair, he starts to get a little side tracked. He looks up at your face, your eyebrows scrunched up as you make sure to dye every strand of his short hair. A mischievous grin appears on his face. His hands, sitting still on your hips until now, move up and down your side as your shirt bunches up. 

Despite how unserious III is, you are determined to finish what you started. You ignore his wandering hands as you continue to apply the bright red dye, but you can’t help but smile at his touch. You keep moving his head to get the best angle until you pull it forward. He takes this opportunity to stop his movements and rests his hands on your waist before approaching his head closer to your belly. Without missing a beat, he leaves soft kisses on your belly. This warmth of his breath tickles your skin through your shirt, making you giggle as you push him away.

“Don’t do that! I’ll mess up and it won’t look good!” you scowl in between giggles. 

“Ok, ok, sorry!” III holds his hands up in defeat before letting them fall back down by his sides. 

You finish applying the red dye without any more distraction, quite satisfied with how it looks. You put down the bowl and the brush on the counter and quickly set a 30 minute timer. You give III’s back a small tap, indicating him to scoot down and sit on the floor before taking a seat beside him. As you both wait for the dye to fully penetrate his hair you let him ramble about the latest video game that he had been wanting to play, but had to wait for Vessel. He promised he would wait for the singer to play with him but he was getting more and more impatient as the Vessel was always busy.

As III is mid sentence about how dynamic the new game seems to be, the timer goes off, scaring you slightly as you had lost sense of time. 

“Bend over the tub,” you say as you stand up and clap your hands once. 

“Oh, alright sugar~” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“No! None of that,” you chuckle. “We’re rinsing your hair, that’s it.” 

III does as he is told and quickly enough his head is hovering above the bathtub, face down. You take the shower head and bring it closer to him, not spraying his hair just yet. Turning the water on, you put your hand under the water flow to make sure the temperature was perfect. 

You then start rinsing his hair. The water drips down his hair, turning the bath bright red. As you run your free hand through his hair to make sure every bit of excess dye is washed out, III gets goosebumps. Having his hair played with is something that he cannot get enough of, and you know it. You take advantage of the situation to scratch your nails against his scalp, pretending some chunks of dye were stuck until he tries and swat your hand away from his head, both of you giggling.

Once you’re done, III moves away from the tub and stands up, red water running down his face. You quickly hand him a towel, cursing as you only realise that it is a white one the moment he shoves his face in it. When his face is dry he pushes the towel up, ruffling his hair in an attempt to dry them. You groan at the thought of trying to wash out the dye, something that might be impossible seeing how much he is rubbing his head with it.

After some more rubbing from III, his hair is finally dry. He lets the towel fall on his shoulders and approaches the mirror. He moves his head side to side, getting a proper look before a goofy smile appears on his face. You also take a good look at it, and you can proudly say that you did an amazing job. The red contrasts well with his bleached hair and the lips are well defined. 

“It’s exactly what I wanted! It looks so good!” He exclaims, pulling you in a hug. “Thank you,” he whispers as he gives your temple a kiss. 

Before you could answer, III swings the door open and steps out of the bathroom. At the exact same time, II walks by and they both come face to face. It takes the drummer a few seconds before he registers what he is seeing. When it clicks, he pulls on III’s shoulder, forcing the bassist to turn around and let him see everything. II then lets out a small groan before letting go of III.

“That is so unprofessional! Our shows start next week, your hair can’t look like that!” he complains, gesturing at III’s head. 

“I can put on a hood, just like Ivy,” III counters, using the same argument he gave you earlier. “And it’s professionally done so it can’t be ‘unprofessional'.’”

You stand in the bathroom, giggling as III tries to defend his new hair style. II gives you a side eye as he hears you, and you try to stifle your giggles, to no avail. You give him a smile, hoping it would lighten his mood.

“It does look good…” II reluctantly admits before adding, “but you have to fix it before next week.”

[sexilene]

can i please request reader going off to collage and not wanting to go and leave rafe, and then he convinces her that its okay not to go and stay with him? if it's a little confusion im sorry!

ive got ya!! xoxo!!! (sorry about any spelling mistakes, im like so beyond sleepy rn idk whyyy!!!!)

"hey baby? where are the suitcases, packed already?” your boyfriend shouts from the hall, wondering where all your stuff that was once out ready to get packed, is gone from where he last saw it.

“uh- almost,” you call back, watching him walk into your room carefully trying not to spill your sleepy time tea in his hand, staring down at the cup until he places it on your nightstand. "did you put em away?-" he begins, before you cut him off,

“ray?”

“yeah?”

“i need to talk to you about something…it’s nothing bad i promise…” your eyes wide and full of an emotion he can't quite place. he stares down at you sitting on the bed, crossing his arms waiting to hear what you've got to say. “okay, what’s up?”

“weeeell, i'm really proud of myself about getting in but i’m still a little nervous about going away…leaving you…” you ramble, avoiding eye contact with rafe. “got separation anxiety?” he laughs, bending down to be at eye level with you.

“don’t joke right now rafe, m’serious!” you whine, going to hide your face in your hands when rafe grabs your wrists ever so gently to direct your attention back on him. “sorry, sorry baby…continue." your boyfriend whispers, softly rubbing the skin on your wrist back and forth with his thumb.

you take a deep breath to keep the tears at bay “i’ve just been thinking about it a lot and i don’t wanna be half away across the country! and of course i know how important college is-”

rafe interrupts you by shrugging and muttering out an “eh,” as if to dismiss the importance of college,

“but…”

“but what, baby?” his eyes innocently looking up at you,

“what if i didn’t go? like i want to, but i don’t and it's all so stressful and i feel like i’m gonna disappoint everyone if i don’t go…” a tear then streaming down your face faster than you can wipe it away to keep him from seeing you cry over this.

your sweet boyfriend's heart twists with every tear that follows, he lets go of your wrists to hold your hands in his much bigger, warmer ones and shushes your fears, “hey- hey okay…just relax a minute kid, if you don’t want to you don’t have to. i say it all the time, can’t fucking wait to put a big ass diamond on this finger. and you won’t gotta worry about anything, cause i promise i’ll take care of you.” he tells you, a smirk on his face, trying his best to reassure you.

“i know but i don’t want to look stupid by being the girl who got into an amazing school but then chose to marry her first boyfriend and stay here!” you realize it's not the nicest thing to say out loud but it is- or would be the truth.

“what’s stupid bout being my little housewife?” rafe furrows his eyebrows, bringing his lips down to kiss every single one of your fingers. “aight listen, i’m so proud of you for getting in and doing the preparation for it but if you feel like your mind has changed that's not a bad thing. im fuckin’ relieved you wanna stay, and if you wanna still go to school there’s always UNC… you’d be closer.” your boyfriend was always very good at reasoning, especially with you. he could calm you in any situation with a couple of wise words and kisses.

“yeah…” you sigh, and wipe your nose with the back of your hand, letting go of his. and sure it's relieving to know that you could always choose to make that decision later, yet the thought in the back of your mind still present, telling you not to end up as another figure eight stepford wife.

and as quickly as the thought crept back into your mind, rafe was able to make it disappear “look, i love you babydoll and im gonna support you as you support me yeah? whatever you want, i'll get it for you you know that... you belong here, with me.” he stands back up again, hands reaching down to wipe the remaining tear droplets on your cheeks gently, to show you he cares ever so much about you and how much he wants to be soft with you- as if you could break like a china doll. “kay, so no tears. did your makeup so pretty today baby...”

your wet lashes sticking together, doe eyes staring up at him with love and admiration. “you’re my best friend ray. i love you, so much my heart hurts.”

“and you're mine, and i love you more than anything ever- and you can sleep on it you know? don't have to make up your mind right here." he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

ᥫ᭡.

[biibini]

nsfw modern!mizu headcannons

a/n: i cannot contain the voices anymore. also 100+ likes on last headcannon???? holy shi i love u all

if u guys have any modern!mizu ideas, feel free to send them over! i’d love to read them all <3

nsfw 18+ content ahead!

oh boy where do i begin

modern!mizu wants u to use ur words

typically for safety as well as to get a rise out of u

she always reminds u of the safe word before anything happens

every time like clockwork

u tease her a few times ab how it’s like a script

she wants both of u to have fun while sticking to ur comfort zones

(always use a safeword 🫶)

besides safety, she loves it when u become vocal

whether it’s a simple stutter or moan slipping out, she loves to hear noises come out of her girl

when u two are making out, if a moan slips out between ur lips, she can read u so easily

modern!mizu is also vocal herself

hello? episode 5???

it would probably be a mix of moans and praise to u

she loves seeing ur reaction every time she praises u

ur reactions are almost like a drug to her

seeing ur mouth turn to an ‘o’ or any sudden changes in ur breathing are the little things that make her keep praising u

if the reaction is u getting more soaking wet, she gets so turn on

however if u go down on her, she would be rambling on and on ab how good ur doing

it would all turn into mush and she would eventually fold

finding herself trying to continue the praising but end up saying incoherent words, moaning under ur touch

speaking of wet

modern!mizu is always a little surprised with how wet u can get under her touch

it rlly turns her on so much

whether it’s her lips kissing and leaving dark red marks on ur sensitive neck

or light squeezes her fingers would make as she massages the outer part of ur thighs

her hands slowly inching towards the softer, inner section

once she starts inching closer to ur wet mess, she likes to keep u close by hooking her arms around ur thighs

she can make sure she can see u in full view

and totally not let u escape

ur not escaping from those arms

(yes ive stated this in the last headcannon but cmon its so good)

it always leaves u in a moaning mess

and her with ur juices all over her mouth and chin and her fingers too

if it’s just her hands moving, she’ll constantly remind u to loosen up ur legs so they stay open

“Y/N, I’m still here hon.” She chuckled, tapping the inside of ur thigh. You nod, letting go of ur legs and opening up. This was her third time reminding you tonight.

You take a peek at her work, looking down as her middle and ring finger continue to enter your insides at a slow pace. Mizu’s attention shifted from you down to her work, searching for your most sensitive spot. Her fingers start to pull out from your throbbing walls again, entering you in one deep thrust.

“Mizu!” You yelp. Only a hum comes out of Mizu as she continues to push her fingers in and out of your gushing mess. Your juices continue to cover her two digits as they pump at a faster pace, hitting deeper in ur core.

modern!mizu would never admit it to u but it would be so easy for her to get off to the sound of ur voice

when u had an out-of-state summer internship, she was excited for ur new adventures

however, both of u failed to realize how lonely the summer would be (horny wise)

she tried to stay patient by keeping herself busy at home with eiji or at the gym while u were at ur internship during the day

she would always get reminders of u whenever she looked at ur phone or the plushie u won on one of ur dates

during the night was more difficult with an empty bed

she thought she could stay patient

keyword: thought

she was on edge for most of the 6 weeks you were gone and nearly threw a basketball at taigen

whenever u guys would call at the end of the week to catch up, she was thankful every week that u werent sharing a room with anyone

it was ur first time trying out phone sex at the end of ur first week

u became a very big fan.

hearing mizu guide u with her voice, almost shaky from how much she’s been holding back this week

on the last week, she was running out of patience and being more dominant than usual

typically during sex, u would hear a lot of praise from her end of the line

but this week, she edged the line of degradation

it was rlly fucking hot

“S’good for me, baby.”

“Pump those fingers faster, like how I would.”

You were a sweaty mess, lying on your bed on one of the final nights in the city. Lights off, your phone was lying next to you, deep into an 25 minute call turned phone sex with Mizu. Your fingers were pleasuring you, trying to remember the rhythm of your lover from back home.

Sticking to Mizu’s words, you began to move your fingers faster. Your pussy was dripping wet, still remembering the vague feeling of Mizu’s long, slender fingers. She was able to push inside you much deeper. Your core starts to remember the similar pace, pleasure rising in you.

On the other hand, your mind replaces your current situation as if Mizu was physically next to you. One hand caressing your cheek while the other was exploring deep inside you. Her body above you, her blue eyes almost glowing in the moonlight.

“M-Mizu…” You let out loud, your phone barely catching your voice. Eyes closed, you were trying to focus on your imagination.

“Y/N…” Mizu said, nearly whispering into her phone. She knew her dad could knock out but the walls at home were thin.

Mizu could only hear faint moans and whimpers from her end as she was using a toy you used on her a few times.

As she got closer, she started to turn up the volume. But it did little to no change as your melody continued to pour out.

“Baby I’m getting close. What about you?”

Only a whimper arose out of her phone. You were way too into your recreation to recognize Mizu asking a question.

“Baby?”

“Mmhmm…”

“Are you trying to remember my fingers again?”

“Yes.” You stuttered out. You could barely speak as you fastened your pace, feeling a familiar warmth build up.

“My baby misses me- ah- so much hm?” Mizu said, fastening her pace as well, trying to match your pleasure levels.

Louder moans only came out of your mouth. You could feel your fingers get tightened more and more, your insides getting ready to spasm out.

“Fuck- my Y/N fucking herself on her fingers? My little slut.”

Hearing her call you her little slut was your breaking point. Your insides start to spasm and lose control of your imagination. Your hips bucking & grinding into your fingers, still pumping into you with little energy you had.

All Mizu could hear from her phone was your cries, moans, and your voice continuously crying her name out loud. She quickly finished as you cried her name one last time, panting into the phone.