#no yall are not prepared for the next chapter

[littlestarbigsky]

hey yall so i have covid (im feeling okay! my symptoms have been pretty mild :) so i’m about to have so much time to write- anyways here’s pt. 2 of this fic (it’s not technically a chapter fic but it’s also based off the idea of pony w breathing problems :)

so here’s darry helping pony with a breathing treatment, slight emetophobia warning (nothing graphic but it’s there)

“alright, kiddo, just try one more time for me, in and out, okay?”

darry knew if he couldn’t get pony under control soon, they’d probably have to go to the hospital. aside from them definitely not being able to afford hospital care on top of all of pony’s already very expensive treatment regiment, four trips to the hospital since september would definitely prompt a visit from social services. darry knew there was a chance they would take his brothers away, and even though it killed him to admit it, they’d be perfectly within their rights to do it.

the breath pony dragged in didn’t ease darry’s racing mind at all, especially not after he’d already used his inhaler twice.

it had all started with a small head cold, nothing out of the ordinary, especially since it was still february, but as all things did nowadays with pony, the illness had gone straight to his lungs. darry could hear him wheezing just standing up cutting vegetables for dinner, he was using his inhaler much more, and that dry, chesty, cough just didn’t seem to want to go away.

soda was normally the one who could take care of this, he knew all the tricks to get pony’s breathing calmed back down, but he was working a double and he made extra if he stayed after closing, so darry had no choice but to hunker down and prepare as much as he could. darry had initially brought pony into the bathroom and turned on the shower, the knob turned as hot as it would go, hoping that the steam would help with the cough, even if it was just for a few minutes.

at first, it had seemed like it was working, but when pony’s coughing fits started, it seemed like they never stopped. darry tried to get them under control, he really did, using all of their tricks he had already learned: deep pressure hugs, putting vapo-rub on his chest and neck, changing pony’s position about 100 times, nothing was working.

after an hour, he was seriously beginning to worry, sitting on the bathroom floor with a wheezing ponyboy leaning back against his chest, wrapped in a blanket. darry opened up the bathroom cupboard next to them and pulled out pony’s nebulizer.

“darry…” pony whined quietly, and darry felt him go tense.

“i know, honey, but we gotta get all this coughing under control,” darry ran a hand through pony’s hair, digging around in the cabinet for the medicine to put in the machine. “if this doesn’t calm down we gotta go to the hospital. and i’m gonna put more of that vapo-rub on you, that helped a little bit earlier.”

pony didn’t say anything. darry did what he could to convince himself it was because pony was conceding, however out of character that was for him. it was easier to tell himself that than think that he wasn’t complaining because he didn’t have the spare breath to.

he got the nebulizer set up and plugged in, all the while keeping pony leaned against him.

“alright, this should be good to go. can you sit up against the wall for me, little man? i gotta get the vapo-rub.”

pony shifted back and took the mouthpiece from darry as he turned it on, crawling across the bathroom floor to the edge of the bathtub where he had set up all of the supplies they may need. he picked up the tub of vapo-rub and shifted back over to pony, who was slumped against the wall, pulling in sad, short breaths.

“this might be a little cold, kiddo,” darry said softly. pony’s t-shirt had been balled up against the door so it wouldn’t stick to the vapo-rub earlier, so darry just pushed the blanket out of the way. they both pretended not to notice darry trying to feel pony’s heartbeat as he rubbed the gel over his chest. pony squeezed his eyes shut and darry felt his chest contract as he started coughing.

it felt like it would never stop once he got going, he dropped the nebulizer and pulled the blanket tighter around himself as he coughed uncontrollably. all darry could do was pull his little brother into his chest and pray that it would end soon. he knew how much pony hated the hospital, that they would just poke him and give him meds that made him feel funny and tired, but anything had to be better than this.

“i know, it’s okay, it’ll be over soon,” darry comforted, holding pony tight to him.

after a few more minutes, pony gagged and for a second it seemed like it was going to stop, but darry knew what was coming. he wasn’t sure how, but something in him knew to move pony as fast as he could. pony weakly pushed himself up onto his knees and threw up into the toilet.

it was miserable while it was happening. when he was done, he leaned back against the bathtub and pulled his knees up to his chest. darry slid over and pulled pony back into his arms, and as soon as the security of darry had wrapped itself around pony, the tears started.

“hey, don’t cry now, baby, i know that was lousy, but it’s over,” darry reached over and grabbed pony’s cup of water and held it for him as he drank feebly from the straw. “small sips, okay?”

even though it killed darry that pony had gotten sick, at least he wasn’t coughing anymore. he was able to get down some of his water and washed the foul taste out of his mouth.

“listen,” darry whispers, resting his cheek on pony’s head, one grounding hand on his chest while the other rubbed circles over his back. “can you try to do a little more of your treatment?”

pony sniffled, but nodded eventually. darry shuffled them both back over to the nebulizer, cradling pony in his lap and holding the mouthpiece for him as he breathed in the medicine.

pony was dead asleep when soda finally cracked open the bathroom door, darry holding their baby brother to his chest, the breathing treatment almost finished. maybe it was the blanket he was wrapped up in, or maybe it was because he was all curled up in a ball against their brother who was pretty big by any standard, but he looked so small. grease washed out of his hair, his skin pale and clammy, and their big brother rocking him gently, keeping him asleep while the medicine worked its way into his aching lungs.

“need me to take over?” soda asked quietly, and darry looked up at him.

darry shook his head, “i got him for now, go get changed and shower. i'm gonna bring him to sleep with me tonight.”

soda nodded, "i'll put away the nebulizer, you get him to bed."

once the treatment had finished, darry scooped pony up and carried him the few steps down the hall to his bedroom, gently setting him down on the bed before changing his own clothes. he slid into bed, pulling up the covers and tucking pony against him, his little wheezes finally starting to lighten up.

it wasn't perfect, but maybe it didn't have to be. darry could feel pony's heart beating and the deep breaths he was pulling in, and as much as he hated that pony needed a breathing treatment to get him to that point, it was worth it. if it meant that he didn't have to wake up coughing and not able to catch his breath. maybe his lungs would never really recover, but they knew how to get him better when they needed to. it was gonna be okay.

darry was almost alseep when soda quietly opened the door, hair soft and damp after his shower and dressed a pair of darry's old sweatpants, cuffed twice at the bottom because of how long they were. darry waved him over, and soda smiled, piling in next to his brothers and wrapping himself around pony’s other side.

“he sleeping?” soda whispered, darry barely nodded, exhaustion taking over. “good, don’t tell him i did this.”

soda pressed a gentle kiss to pony’s head and laid back down, already feeling drowsy next to his two sleeping brothers.

[ohproserpine]

vii. deer dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, heavy warning for violence and blood, overdose, murder, death, hunting, graphic descriptions of injuries, vox being painfully obvious, vox malfunctions (lmao L), allusion to death, valentino warning, alastor's demon form

Rocks and twigs dug into your knees as you crawled forward, the jagged edges cutting your skin as you reached Alastor's side. With trembling hands, you cradled his face against your lap.

"Alastor," you called for him, desperately clutching onto his body, trying to pull him back down to Earth and hold him there "Al, Al, please."

"What did I do? What can I do?" More tears dribbled down your cheeks as you looked down at your husband, leaning in to press tender kisses to the apples of his cheeks. You held him as tightly as you could, careful not to cause him any more pain.

"I can figure out a way to help you, I can. I know I can, baby," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. Your gaze remained locked with your husband's lifeless eyes, the world spinning around you as panic tightened its grip on your chest, making it difficult to breathe.

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

˚୨୧₊♱

You woke with a startle.

Gasping for breath, your chest heaved with each inhale, the rapid beat of your pulse slamming against your ribcage, the sound hammering in your head. Blinking repeatedly, your vision slowly adjusted to the unfamiliar sight of a ceiling painted with outrageously colorful prints. Faint traces of neon lights filtered through the thin curtains, casting erratic patterns across the room, accompanied by the distant thump of music.

A gentle knocking at the door broke through the haze, accompanied by the muted tones of a familiar voice seeping through the metal barrier.

"Dollface? Are you up?" Vox's voice, though muffled, was unmistakable as it filtered through the door.

Shakily, you pushed yourself up and sat for a while, gathering your composure. The room spun around you, the vibrant colors of the walls and lights blurring into a dizzying kaleidoscope. Eventually, with a deep breath, you pushed yourself into action, moving to open the door.

As you swung it open, Vox stood on the other side, his signature smirk etched onto his features. His mechanical eyes gleamed as they scanned you for any signs of distress or fatigue. And despite your disorientation, you straightened your posture, trying to maintain your usual demeanor in front of him.

"Good morning," Vox greeted smoothly. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

Of course, he wasn't interrupting anything. It was clear to both of you that you had just rolled out of bed. Your hair tousled in disarray, your sleepwear crumpled and creased, and your bed behind you a mess of twisted sheets and pillows.

Still, you forced a polite smile and shook your head.

"No, not at all," you replied.

"Excellent," Vox grinned, stepping a foot past your doorway. "May I come in?"

Despite the internal alarm bells ringing in your mind, you nodded, moving aside to let him in. As he passed by, you couldn't shake the feeling of being scrutinized, like prey under the gaze of a predator before the pounce.

Closing the door, you leaned against it, feeling the cool surface against your back, and turned to face Vox, attempting to hide the unease simmering within.

"What can I help you with?" you asked, keeping your tone steady.

Vox's gaze pierced yours, his mechanical eyes glinting with a hunger that unsettled you.

"I thought of how we could discuss the details of our partnership," he hummed, running his fingers along your dresser. "Over dinner, perhaps?"

The proposal hung in the air, heavy with implications you weren't sure you wanted to explore. Despite your best efforts to hide it, a seething sense of unease bubbled beneath the surface, twisting your features into a grimace.

"Dinner?" The word felt like acid on your tongue as you struggled to maintain your façade, your gaze sharpening into a glare aimed directly at the overlord. "I'm sorry, but… I'm not interested."

Vox's laughter cut through the tense atmosphere, but it sounded forced and hollow.

"I meant a professional meeting, love," he covered up with a wave of his hand, the charm in his voice slightly strained. "Let's go over your contract."

Relieved, you nodded, though beneath, a whirlwind of thoughts swirled.

This could be a chance for you to really have a gauge on your situation. Everything had happened so fast, and you found yourself stumbling in the dark. You knew the Vees were a powerhouse in the entertainment district, their influence stretching far and wide, extending into every corner of hell. They were notorious for their employment methods, for their ability to shape destinies and manipulate lives with the stroke of a pen.

Who knows what was even in your contract?

"Wonderful!" Vox's cheerful interruption jolted you from your thoughts as he extended his arm. "Well then, let's not waste any more time. Shall we?"

"Shall we what?" you spoke slowly, your tone guarded.

"Shall we get to your duties, my dear?" Vox clarified smoothly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his words laden with expectation. "Velvette is waiting."

"Oh—" you jolted. Quickly, you gathered yourself, smoothing down the wrinkles of your robe and adjusting your disheveled hair with clumsy fingers.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you reached out and linked your arm with Vox's. The overlord smirked as he led you out of the room and through the corridors, already launching into conversation about his latest product line.

A part of you found it amusing how similar he was to your husband—both of them chatterboxes who couldn't keep their mouths shut if they tried.

Nodding along to Vox's conversation, you fell into step beside him. As you two walked, it was impossible not to notice the subtle shift in demeanor among the demons and imps, who hastily cleared a path for Vox, some even bowing respectfully as you passed by.

"And here we are!"

Arriving at Velvette's office, you entered cautiously, the tension thick in the air. Models lounged around in various states of undress, their statuesque figures draped in luxurious fabrics. Their expressions ranged from curiosity to suspicion as they observed your every move. Some whispered amongst themselves in hushed tones, casting wary glances in your direction, while others maintained an aloof demeanor, their gazes piercing yet blank.

Velvette stood at the front, her figure partially obscured by the tall curtains behind her. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, swept over you with open scorn.

"Finally! Took ya long enough," Velvette scowled. "Edna, will you please go get her dressed?!"

Edna, a tall and slender imp with delicate horns curved against her head, nodded obediently before gliding over to you. With a gentle tug on your arm, she beckoned you to follow her backstage. You stumbled nervously, clutching your robe as you obeyed.

As you stepped away, Vox chuckled, waving you off with a flourish. You offered a cautious wave back before being enveloped by the heavy fabric of the curtains.

"I know what you're trying," Velvette scoffed as she tapped away on her phone, her perfectly manicured nails, painted in a glossy shade of neon pink, clacking against the screen. Vox turned to her, his expression one of exaggerated innocence.

"Whatever do you mean?" he retorted, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise.

"Oh, please don't act as if you weren't sending marionnette over there heart eyes," Velvette accused, her crimson lips forming a thin line of disapproval. "Listen, I don't care what you do with your little girl toy. Just make sure you don't get in the way of my show."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Vox hummed, taking a seat on one of the plush couches.

Velvette turned to him, surprised, her curls bouncing from the abruptness of her movement. "You're staying?"

"Of course. I'm eager to see your dazzling ideas, my dear," Vox replied smoothly, spreading his long legs across the expanse of the couch. "After all, your show is going to be featured on my channels. It's all anyone has been raving about on Voxtagram lately."

"Cut the crap. You just want an excuse to ogle at her," Velvette scoffed.

Vox leaned back against the cushions, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Can you blame me? She's quite the sight to behold."

Before Velvette could snap back, Edna returned, leading you out from behind the curtains. You emerged, feeling somewhat exposed under the scrutinizing gazes of the two overlords.

No surprise, as the main act, you were dressed in one of Velvette's main designs. Black netted stockings hugged your legs as they met the bright red stilettos that adorned your feet. A red corset cinched your waist and emphasized the curve of your hips, accentuating your figure. Below the corset, you wore a dark miniskirt with cream ruffles and lace, its fabric swaying with every step.

You felt abash as you stood in the outfit. In the past, you had been considered a flapper girl with your bold demeanor and penchant for daring fashion choices, but even you couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise at the lack of modesty of the skirt in this particular outfit. It barely grazed past your crotch, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

"Let's see…" Velvette hummed, completely absorbed in her task as she approached you, Vox long forgotten. With a couple of snaps of her fingers, the clothing and accessories you wore began to shift and change, transforming before your eyes.

Velvette's fingers danced through the air, conjuring delicate lace and cascading ruffles that stuck onto the corset. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a cream fur coat, draping it over your shoulders with a flourish. The colors morphed, the fabrics transformed, until finally, with a satisfied clap of her hands, she took a step back to admire your new look.

"Makeup!"

Suddenly, you yelped as a chair was dragged over, pushing against the back of your knees and causing you to fall right into it. A bunch of imps swarmed around you and they wasted no time in getting to work, dabbing various products onto your face and expertly brushing powder along your cheeks.

Once they were finished, they handed you a mirror, allowing you to inspect their handiwork. Unlike the outfit, the makeup look wasn't as unsettling. Your face was adorned with makeup reminiscent of classic clown makeup, featuring exaggerated lashes, a layer of white face paint, and a bold red lip.

"That's it! That's the one," Velvette grinned, delighted with the makeover. Her grin turned into a smirk as she turned to Vox. "Well, what do you think—Satan!"

Vox's screen began to glitch and buffer, emitting sparks of electricity that charred the couch beneath him. The sudden noise startled some of the models, their eyes widening in alarm as they scrambled to move away from the malfunctioning android.

"The hell is wrong with you?" Velvette shouted.

Vox tried to respond, but all that came out was static.

Concerned, you approached him, the clicking of your heels against the floor echoing.

As you settled beside Vox, there was a momentary pause in the static, and he stared at you with wide eyes, the malfunction seemingly halted by your presence.

Part of you screamed at yourself to leave, to let him handle his problems alone. But another part of you remained, despite everything. Somehow, you still felt a sliver of sympathy for the overlord.

Leaning in closer, you furrowed your brow, the red gloss on your lips catching the studio lights. The corset pushed your chest up, and Vox found his eyes shamelessly drifting.

"Are you okay?" you whispered, your voice laced with genuine worry.

But before Vox could respond, he short-circuited, a burst of sparks and smoke emitting from his malfunctioning screen. You recoiled instinctively, your hand reaching out to shield yourself from any potential danger. With a final surge of electricity, he powered down completely, leaving behind a smoldering heap of metal and wires.

"Is he… okay?"

Velvette waved a dismissive hand. "He's always doing this. Probably overloaded his circuits again."

"Now, can someone please get this thing out of here?!" she commanded, snapping her fingers and tapping her foot impatiently.

As the models and attendants hurried to comply, you were pulled back up to your feet by the overlord. "He'll reboot eventually. Now, let's get back to work."

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from Vox, you followed after Velvette as she led the way to a photo studio within the boutique.

The scene before you was akin to a circus, with vibrant hues of bright reds and pinks resembling a Valentine's Day massacre. A carousel in the background spun slowly, its eerie music echoing through the studio. Beating hearts hung suspended from the ceiling, their rhythmic pulses visible as they dripped with blood.

"Alright! Let's get the rehearsal started!" Velvette shouted out as she began to direct the crew. Cameras were adjusted, lights were fine-tuned, and the set was re-arranged to her satisfaction.

Turning to you with a tablet in hand, Velvette tossed it into your hands. You caught the device and quickly read through the document on the screen, realizing it was lyrics to a song. Your eyes rushed to memorize the words, the familiarity of the process washing over you.

Decades in the show industry had honed your skills to perfection, making this routine feel like second nature. A small pang of nostalgia tugged at your heartstrings, reminding you of simpler times before everything went amiss.

“Alright.”

Barely giving you ten minutes to prepare, Velvette deftly plucked the tablet from your hands as she stepped back and settled into a director's chair. The chair creaked softly under her weight as she made herself comfortable, slipping on heart-shaped glasses that glinted in the studio lights.

"Let's see what you've got.”

Lifting the scepter to your lips, you pressed it against your mouth, leaving a trace of red lipstick staining the surface, a stark contrast against the sleek metal. As the lights dimmed, signaling the start of your performance, you took a deep breath and began to recite the lyrics.

I write poems to burn by firelight Drink champagne and guzzle gin Good girls call me "the town bicycle" Don't knock it 'til you've tried my life of sin

With a flick of your hand, you pushed back the curls of your hair, the strands catching the studio lights as you kept your gaze glued to the camera lens. From her chair, Velvette smirked and captured the moment with her phone, the flash briefly blinding the dimly lit set.

Oh, my pimp, knows never mess with me Last prick did that faded quick to black I have no idea where to find him, officers But if you do, please mention that I'd Like to have returned the pretty knife That I stuck ten times in his back—

Before you could even finish, the door burst open with a deafening bang, causing everyone in the room to jump in surprise. Valentino stormed into the boutique, his eyes blazing with unrestrained fury. Without uttering a single word, he launched into a violent rampage, his movements wild and unpredictable.

The air was filled with the sound of crashing props and the desperate, panicked screams of assistants as they scrambled to evade Valentino's wrath. You jerked back instinctively as an arm was thrown in your direction, narrowly avoiding the chaotic fray unfolding around you.

"Damn it, Valentino! What are you doing?!" Velvette shouted over the commotion, her voice strained with anger and disbelief as she dug her fingers into her hair, her perfectly styled locks now in disarray.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" the moth demon screamed back, his voice seething with rage as he held poor Edna by her throat, his grip like a vice around her delicate neck.

"I'm airing out my frustrations!" he spat, his eyes wild with fury.

A sickening tearing sound filled the room as Valentino viciously tore Edna apart, blood splattering across the floor and staining the nearby racks of clothing.

"Fuck!" Velvette cursed under her breath. Fumbling, she retrieved her phone, her fingers tapping against the screen in agitation as she dialed Vox's number.

"My dear," the businessman's smooth voice echoed through the speakers, a calming presence amidst the storm. "What can I do for you?"

"Cut the shit. Are you functioning now?" Velvette's words were clipped, forceful, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Functioning?" The overlord's response was hesitant, his movements jerky as he twisted his head, the wires on his neck audibly cracking with a spark. "I… suppose so."

"Good, because I need you up here now!" Velvette's voice crackled with urgency. "Mothboy is wrecking my department! And I'm waiting for a certain flat-faced prince to come and help!"

Without another word, Vox nodded with a weary groan, the weight of responsibility settling heavily upon him like an oppressive cloak.

"Just another fuckin' day with Val," he scoffed bitterly, his tone tinged with resignation as he pushed himself to his feet with a mechanical whir. "Fuck my life."

In an instant, he transformed into a crackling spark of electricity, zipping up into the CCTV camera before seamlessly teleporting into another one located in Velvette's studio.

"What's going on?" Vox sighed wearily as he materialized, his voice tinged with exhaustion, hands folding behind his back as he surveyed the chaotic scene before him.

"Valentino's lost it again. And he's tearing everything apart," Velvette hissed as her hand shot up, grabbing Vox by the collar of his metallic frame.

Her nails dug into the surface, leaving faint marks as she pulled him down to her eye level. "You need to stop him before he causes any more damage!"

"Consider it done," Vox muttered, rolling his eyes before moving toward Valentino. With a firm grip, he halted the demon mid-carnage, spinning Valentino around to face him. An unsettling grin stretched across Vox's metallic features as he locked eyes with the enraged demon.

"Val! What's got you out of sorts today?"

“That piece of shit! Can you believe what he did?” Valentino snarled, his voice dripping with venom as he flung a small imp across the room, the helpless girl crashing into a clothing rack. “The ungrateful whore!”

"Uh huh, which whore are we talking about now?” Vox spoke nonchalantly as he pulled his phone out and idly scrolled through it. Before he could react, Valentino lunged forward, his claws snatching the device from Vox's grasp.

"Who else would I be talking about?!" Valentino spat, his grip tightening around the phone until it crushed in his hands. With a primal scream, he hurled the remains of the tech against a nearby wall, the impact causing the column to crack under the force of the blow.

You watched with a frown as Vox attempted to calm Valentino, but his efforts fell short against the demon's relentless anger. Despite Vox's attempts, Valentino continued to rage, his voice echoing through the room as he screamed about hotels, phone calls, and among other things you didn't bother picking up.

“Fuck. Alright, he's not calming down anytime soon,” Velvette scoffed, rolling her eyes. She turned to you and motioned for you to follow as she began storming out. “Come on."

Quickly, you nodded, falling into step behind Velvette as she navigated through the gory scene. Blood stained the bottom of your heels as you stepped past limbs and puddles of blood, bones cracked underfoot, and muscles squished beneath your weight. The overpowering scent of iron filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of fear.

The overlord guided you out of the room and towards the other side of the building, where a door adorned with your name on a golden plaque awaited.

"This is your dressing room. We'll have another shoot in a few hours, so get yourself prepped in here while I go take care of the piss baby," Velvette scowled, already busying herself with her phone again.

"Will do," you sighed, running a hand through your hair, grateful for the moment of rest.

"Good. I'll see you then," Velvette declared with dramatic flair, her vibrant curls swirling around her face as she turned on her heels and walked away, leaving a trail of her perfume lingering in the air.

As you were about to step into your dressing room, the door beside you suddenly swung open with a creak, revealing a slice of the pink-filled bedroom beyond. To your surprise, you were met with the familiar sight of a fluff of white hair. An accented voice filled the air, screaming into a phone, the sound echoing down the corridor.

"I told ya, I didn't mean to—," The demon turned to you and froze, his eyes widening as he dropped his cigar in shock. The carpet beneath your feet caught fire from the dropped cigar, but neither of you seemed to care.

He stared at you, wide-eyed.

Hands flying up to your mouth, you stared back.

For a minute, all you could hear was the muted sounds of Valentino's screaming from the phone speaker and the building's hustle and bustle

"Dollface?" Angel Dust finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper as he blinked dumbfounded. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Your heart dropped like a heavy stone, sinking into the depths of your chest. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you stood there.

Everything was becoming too much to even process. Your body betrayed you as you lost your balance, collapsing and hitting the floor. A high-pitched ringing pierced your ears, drowning out all other sounds, as warmth seeped from them.

"Aw, shit," Angel Dust hissed in panic. Without hesitation, he reached out and pulled you into his arms, dragging you into his room, the door closing behind you with a soft click.

Ending the call, he tossed his phone away and guided you to a plush couch, the fabric soft and inviting beneath your touch as you sank into its embrace. Angel Dust settled beside you, his presence comforting like a warm blanket on a cold night. He offered you a sympathetic smile, though slightly awkward, his eyes filled with understanding.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured soothingly, his words a gentle caress to your troubled soul.

Opening his arms wide, Angel offered you a hug, and you leaned into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his arms as he enveloped you in a comforting hug. Slowly, your senses came together as you nestled against him, the gentle rhythm of his breathing calming the storm of emotions raging within you.

"It's gonna be alright," he whispered softly, his voice a comforting murmur. Moving closer, he wiped away the warm liquid seeping from your ears. You could faintly see his hands moving away, stained with red. "You alright? What happened, mama?"

"A lot," you sighed, raising a hand to massage your temple as you recounted the events of the past 24 hours, from Mimzy's lounge getting busted down to your soul exchange with Vox.

Angel listened intently as you recounted the events, his expression shifting from concern to disbelief as he processed the gravity of what you had experienced.

"Damn, you've been through hell twice. You're one tough cookie, mama," Angel said with a warm smile as he reached for a brush on his vanity and gently ran it through your messed-up hair.

Despite the heaviness of the situation, a hint of laughter escaped you.

"You could say that," you sniffed, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you let out a long-held sigh. "It's been a while since I've been able to let it all out like this. Most demons aren't exactly the nicest."

Angel Dust chuckled with a shrug, his hands gentle as he worked through the knots in your hair. "Yeah, I've… ah, been tryn'a to stay 'good' for a while now. Charlie's been real pushy with the redemption thing, and I thought, what the hell, why not?"

Suddenly, he paused his brushing and gawked at you, his eyes widening in realization. "Charlie! The hotel!"

Your heart skipped a beat as Angel Dust's words sank in. "The hotel," you echoed, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place in your mind.

"Shit!" Angel laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, there ya go! I get off shift tonight, and I sure as hell can get my ass over there. Hell, I can leave right this instant if you want!"

"Won't Valentino be pissed?" you asked, a flicker of concern crossing your features. "You'll be—" Your gaze darted over to his discarded phone on the floor, which was buzzing with calls. "Well, already are in deep shit."

Angel Dust frowned, his expression hardening with resolve. He grabbed your coat and swiftly removed it, tossing it aside to cover the buzzing phone. "Fuck 'im. He can bark all he wants in the studio, but outside of it, he's got no power over me."

The spider leaned in, his touch as gentle as a soft breeze against your skin, his fingers delicate as they brushed a stray hair from your face. "I'll help you. So don't get your pretty little tits in a twist anymore, alright?"

With a heavy heart, you whispered your gratitude, bowing your head as tears continued to stream down your cheeks. Today had been bleak, but a glimmer of hope lingered for a brighter tomorrow.

"But I don't want to get you in trouble, Angel," you said softly, wiping away your tears, exhaustion washing over you. "I can wait until tonight."

Angel Dust's expression softened, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Nah, babe, ain't no trouble for me. Besides, waiting ain't my style, and I ain't about to let you deal with this mess alone."

"Plus," Angel grinned devilishly, his eyes sparkling with mischief, the corners of his lips curling up. "I know your man is going to tear shit down. And I want front row seats to all that drama."

˚୨୧₊♱

"NO!"

Charlie shrieked, her voice piercing the air as she lunged forward, her fingers grasping desperately at Alastor's piece on the gameboard. "Al! You can't just do whatever you want! You have to follow the rules!"

Alastor leaned back in his chair, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he regarded Charlie with amusement. "But my dear, where's the entertainment in that?" he purred as he tilted his head in mock innocence. "Rules are made to be broken, after all. So, I had a little fun with it."

"A little fun?" Vaggie scoffed from her spot on the floor, her brows furrowed in frustration as she idly shuffled the cards.

"Yeah, thanks a lot, dickhead," she muttered, her voice laced with irritation. "That's what you've been doing these past 2 hours. If you don't start playing properly, might as well not play. I mean—why did you even bother?"

"For the entertainment!" Alastor cheered, his grin widening as he rolled the dice once the turn landed on him again. With a flourish of his claws, he moved his piece three spaces, landing on an unclaimed building which he quickly purchased. "I came here because I love seeing you wayward souls struggle to accomplish something great, and fail spectacularly!"

Vaggie scoffed and rolled the dice, her hand deftly moving the piece along the board with a flick of her wrist. However, her expression soured noticeably when the piece landed on the Jail panel. She seethed and sank back, silently cursing her streak of horrible luck.

"Ah, like you are doing now!" Alastor smirked down at her like the asshole he was, punctuating his words with a clap of his hand. "Good job!"

Vaggie clenched her jaw tightly, her knuckles whitening as she lifted the board, readying herself to strike Alastor. However, before she could make her move, the door burst open, and Angel Dust rushed in with a gasp. He looked every bit disheveled, as if he had just run through all nine circles of hell.

Charlie's eyes lit up at the sight of him, and she lifted her hand, waving him over excitedly.

"Angel! Perfect timing. We need one more player for Monopurgatory," she exclaimed, gesturing excitedly towards the game board. With a gleeful expression, she plucked a piece from the board and held up a small metal figurine with a wide smile. "You can be the cupcake~!"

"Sorry, princess, I've got business," Angel huffed, brushing his hair back as he turned to Alastor. "Alright, freaks. We need to talk."

Alastor hummed, studying Angel with mild amusement. "My, my, such urgency," he remarked, his smile widening into a grin. "What's got you in such a hurry?"

"It's about Vox," Angel replied, pressing his hands flat against each other. "I need to speak with you in private."

Alastor's grin faded slightly, and he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing at Angel. Well, this was certainly getting very entertaining.

After a moment of contemplation, Alastor shook his head, snapping himself out of whatever daze he had briefly fallen into.

"Vox, you say?" Alastor mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. With a nonchalant shrug, he pushed himself up, twirling his cane in the air. "Oh, well, in that case, let's chat."

With a flick of his wrist, Alastor moved forward and gestured towards the door, indicating for Angel to follow him. Charlie and Vaggie exchanged puzzled glances, but they remained silent, watching as both men left the room.

"You know, I'd usually never even think of entertaining you, and I'd rather let you deal with your own issues. But you seem to be in a great deal of suffering!” Alastor laughed heartily as he shut the door.

"So, pray tell, what happened? Did you get yourself entangled in another deal from a whim decision? My! I certainly hope you don't bring any of this into the hotel. What will the papers say?"

Angel rolled his eyes and cut Alastor's rambling short, jabbing a gloved finger into the Radio Demon's chest. "It ain't about me. And you're gonna want to listen because it's your missus that's in deep shit right now."

Alastor's eye twitched at the mention of you, a brief flicker of static and symbols dancing in the air. His crimson eyes bore into Angel Dust, his expression unreadable, save for the wide curl of his lips.

Inwardly, Angel smirked. If he didn't have Alastor's attention before, he sure as fuck had it now.

"What does my wife have to do with this?" Alastor quipped sharply, his claws delicately removing Angel Dust's finger from his chest. "I fail to see the connection. Do enlighten me."

"Wanna be enlightened?" Angel waved him over, "Then follow me."

Without waiting for a response, Angel turned on his heels and strode out of the hotel. Alastor followed closely behind, his red-clad figure cutting through the streets of hell like fire against the night.

A few streets later, they approached the border edge of the entertainment district, and Alastor halted abruptly, his gaze narrowing in suspicion.

"I don't particularly fancy this area, and I'd rather not enter," he scoffed, adjusting his coat and brushing away dust from his sleeves with a disdainful flick. "It's rather unsavory."

"Just look," Angel rolled his eyes, gesturing upwards towards the towering Vee tower, where a new advertisement had just been erected.

Alastor's gaze shifted upward, and he froze as he beheld your face plastered across the billboard, larger than life, dominating the skyline of the entertainment district. The vibrant colors of the advertisement clashed with the dark hues of the surrounding buildings, drawing attention like a beacon in the night. Beneath the image, in bold letters, was a sign that read: "Sponsored by VoxTek," stark against the backdrop of your image.

There was silence for a minute, then another, before a sharp crack split the air.

"Angel?" Alastor's chipper voice rang out as he stared up at the billboard with a manic grin. Crackling began to be heard as his limbs lengthened, each movement accompanied by the sound of bones shifting and sinewy muscles stretching beneath his ashen flesh.

"Would you be so kind as to…" His antlers began to grow in size, curling and twisting like the branches of a gnarled tree.

"—explain…" His eyes darkened, the whites turning to a deep, swirling black, while the pupils glowed with a golden light, resembling the flickering dials of an old radio.

"—what exactly am I looking at right now?" His hands elongated into grotesque claws, the fingers stretching and sharpening into razor-sharp blades capable of ripping flesh—or in this case, wires—with ease. As his claws extended, they stretched his glove to its limit until it tore right off, revealing the glint of his wedding ring.

"Vox got her soul," Angel replied immediately, his voice steady despite the horrifying sight in front of him. "Screens has her wrapped around his finger, and he's not planning to let go anytime soon."

Alastor's head snapped to the side with a sickening crack accompanying the movement.

"Show me," he snarled, his voice taking on an inhuman quality, heavily filtered by radio waves.

Without hesitation, Angel gestured towards the billboard, his expression blank.

"Get in there, and see for ya'self."

˚୨୧₊♱

[xxvalkyriesxx]

Flying Changes - Chapter Six

A Nessian Equestrian Fic

Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Read on AO3 or below!

@nessianweek (post for Day Seven - Free Day)

AN: Hello Everyone!!! It's been a bit since I last updated Flying Changes! Thank you so much for being kind and patient with me as I participated in my first Nessian week! You can read the fics I wrote for Nessian week either through my Nessian Week 2024 series or the NessianWeek2024 collection here on AO3!! You can also read my fics on Tumblr if you're there too!

Shout out to IRL fandom friend who's been helping with some details for this chapter and a few others! They're amazing and I love them!!

CW: Panic attacks, discussions on anxiety

Snippet:

“Easy, Sweetheart. Some might think you’re flirting with me.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, her stomach turning to iron. “As if.” 

She stood up from the chair. “Am I needed for anything else?”

Cassian shook his head. “No. But before you go off to read your smut and dream of those “barbaric men and warrior women”, I need you to go muck the stalls in the private barn.”

Arching an eyebrow, she shook her head. “I did that this morning.”

**

Ironically this was the first time Nesta stepped foot into Cassian’s office. It was above the therapy barn’s tack room. Windows were displayed on the side creating a perfect view of most of the stalls. She couldn't help but wonder how many times he had watched her through these windows as she did chores. Was it similar to how she would watch from her bedroom window?

The door shut as Cassian walked through the threshold. The sound made Nesta’s shoulders tense, her heartbeat was faster than normal. A sick familiar wave of dread anchored her belly, pinning her to the chair she sat in. Cassian crossed over to his desk speaking, but not a single word did she hear. Not as phantom memories filled her ears like water. Her eyes were casted downwards, afraid. Afraid of what she couldn’t tell. The anxiety of her rotten memories or the anxiety of the what-ifs littering her mind like landfills.

Will I ever break free from this cycle? Or is this the cycle the Mother doomed me to run in through until I’m six feet under, giving my skin and hair back to the world that created me.

Nesta.

Her name was called, but the voice was so distorted was it even real? Air suddenly felt like a right that she couldn’t have. As she breathed, the world around her began to shrink. The walls of the room pushed closer and closer to where she sat. The furniture scratched across the wooden floors.

Nesta, you’re having… panic attack. I’m going…open the door…let air in…need you to focus… Tether yourself…

The voice weaved through her ears, not catching everything that was spoken. There was a presence near her, but it wasn’t too close, but too far. It was familiar and oddly made her feel warm in the arctic hellscape of her mind. The room froze in her terminal, but the furniture kept quiet, the walls still as statues. Her head took in the scene before her.

Five things. What five things can you see? Can you describe them to me?

Words piled onto her tongue waiting for her mind to open her mouth, but nothing fell out. The presence was still near her, but close enough to touch.

Breathe. Name five things.

Windows. Desk. Couch. Photo. Books.

Good, describe them to me.

The windows are to the right of me. I can see the stalls from there.

The desk is in front of me. It's brown.

The couch is on my left side. It’s velvet and green.

There’s a picture on the wall, seven guys in camo.

Books…They were on the nearby shelf. The books are different colors. Blacks, grays, and reds. Some look thick, some thin.

That’s great Nesta. What are four things you can touch?

Somehow the room started to shift back to place. The walls went back in their normal position. Nesta blinked, feeling the wood of the chair she sat in. Her eyes adjusted, the blur slowly leaving her sight. The chair. The wood is smooth, but the further I go, I feel ridges carved with designs.

Nesta reached over to the desk picking up a stack of papers. Documents, probably important. Thin yet the stack holds weight.

Still on the desk, Nesta grabbed a toy horse. A tiny horse. It’s dapple gray and seems to be cantering. The mane and tail are a little sharp with the horse in motion. It’s a plastic toy, but not a breyer horse.

Finally she reached over to the nearby lamp, her hand around the pull-switch. It was metallic and beaded, slightly cool in between her finger pads. Gently she pulled it, the lamp turning on, a warm light filling her vision. The pull-switch of this lamp. It’s kinda cold, not heavy.

I see you, Nesta. You’re grounding yourself. Can you name three things you can hear?

Taking a deep breath, the air traveled from her nose to mouth, in a setting she didn’t know how long it took her to exhale. Was it fast? Was it too slow? Was this good enough? Her gaze wandered over the blur that tricked her eyes. Slightly focused then slightly not.

Focus. What three things do you hear?

Head breaking the surface of the distorted noise, Nesta focused. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. Nesta looked away from the blurb, her eyes landing on an old grandfather clock. The clock, it’s ticking. She shifted, taking another breath.

Eventually another noise drifted from the open door. A horse was neighing, probably Jasper. He was the one horse who never shut up. The sound gave light to her belly. Her body wiggled and moved in the chair, the anchor pulling from the pit. Jasper. He’s loud.

Then she heard the blur snort, an almost laugh. Or was it a laugh for real? Your laugh?

“Why are you saying it as a question?” “Are you laughing?”

Silence met her until a voice strode into her mind. “Yes, I’m laughing. You know the horses better than I thought.”

“Name me two things you can smell.”

Nesta sniffed and then sniffed again. A scent, there was a scent that swayed around the room that provided enough evidence it was lingering in the air instead of in her head. “It smells like fall. Clove, cedar, maybe a hint of vanilla? It’s not strong, the scent is mellow enough. Like a candle.” Her head wandered until she saw an air freshener plugged into a nearby socket.

She took another breath, her mind still as she narrowed down something else. It came after moments on end as she tried hard to find something past the scented cloud that was in the office. The other scent was fading, but it gave Nesta just the tiniest of scrapes, in the shape of a needle. “Hay…It’s a dumb answer being in a horse barn.”

“Not at all.”

Her come down was less of free falling and now floating. The ground was in sight as if she could stretch her toes down to touch the floor before her feet fully planted on it.

“Name one person or thing that you’re grateful for.”

A slow rise of panic crawled in, making her go from her body floating in air to a being in hot air balloon. The fire brought her up. Nesta took one, two, three deep breaths slowly, keeping her heartbeat regulated. A face came into view of a woman, beautiful brown eyes, black hair. Her presence was what a friend was described as in the books Nesta read. She clung the name close to her heart. “Emerie.”

“Nesta.” The voice spoke her name.

She looked up to see Cassian kneeling near her. Close enough he could touch her if he tried, but provided a safe distance. Something twanged in her heart, but she pushed it away. It wasn’t anxiety, it was nonsense.

“You did excellent.” He praised, a soft smile on his lips. “The door.” She whispered the barrier, but swallowed her anxiety, speaking clearly. “The door. It was the door that triggered me.”

Cassian’s ears pinked as his fingers pulled on his ponytail. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to slam the door like that.” His gaze lingered from the floor to her eyes. Nesta nodded. “It’s..it’s okay, you didn’t know. But I would prefer not to be taken away to a private area when you’re angry. It..” Her memory was bile rising up her throat.

Cassian nodded slightly, encouraging her. There was no force in his demeanor. “It just brings up..bad stuff.” She didn’t want to name it as if it was a curse looking to haunt her. “That’s..that’s all I need to know, Nesta. I’ll know going forward that isn’t the best plan of action.”

“Thank you.”

“I wanted to speak to you in private because I did want to address a few things that happened in that arena.” Cassian said as he stood up, sitting slightly on top of his desk.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” “I hate to admit this Nesta, but you did.” His voice was calm, apologetic. There was no hate or taunt that threaded his letters. “What did you think I did wrong by standing up for Gwyn.”

Cassian shook his head. “It’s not that.. That took courage. Courage that most people in today’s world don’t have.” “Then what was your issue?” Nesta asked, an irritation gnawing at her. “Legal.”

Nesta blinked once, then twice. She didn’t know why but she was expecting something stupid to come out his mouth like because she’s traumatized or something even misogynistic about her being a woman or perhaps both.

“Legally, if you were to do that and not be an actual staff member during an actual lesson if the ranch was up and running, then you would become liable for whatever happens in that arena, and how it affects everyone there and on this ranch.”

A bitter response was out before she could yank the anger back. “Then hire actual people to prevent what I had to witness.” She waited for his anger to bite her back, sending her from panics to complete rage.

“Well…I can’t argue with that, now can I?”

Nesta opened her mouth, then closed, then opened to say something, then abruptly closing her lips again. Cassian shook with laughter and somehow Nesta thought there were butterflies flying in her belly. It would be a lie to say she hated the feeling.

“Forgive me, but you’re just really cute when you’re like that, Nesta.” Cassian smiled brightly. Her face was in flames with how pink her cheeks came to be. She quickly looked away, her nose scrunching from the embarrassment. He laughed a little more before leaning back, his hands resting on the edge of the desk.

“Back to what we were speaking about. I’m glad you were there for Gwyn and helped her get more simulated with horses. It was a greatcall to use Sundrop. However, you may be an Olympic equestrian, but you never trained to work with therapy horses. Things could have gotten a lot worse today.”

He shrugged. “I mean for all we know, the shitty therapist could be bad mouthing the ranch. I guess it’s a good thing we are technically closed. And I guess I still have a lot to learn being a ranch manager.” “I can’t argue with that.” The smallest of smirks on her lips, echoing his statement from moments ago. Cassian pursed his lips as he shook his head.

“Easy, Sweetheart. Some might think you’re flirting with me.” Nesta rolled her eyes, her stomach turning to iron. “As if.”

She stood up from the chair. “Am I needed for anything else?” Cassian shook his head. “No. But before you go off to read your smut and dream of those “barbaric men and warrior women”, I need you to go muck the stalls in the private barn.” Arching an eyebrow, she shook her head. “I did that this morning.”

“Horses shit a lot. Take it as a learning lesson, Nes.” “That’s not my name.” Nesta glared at him. His lips were sealed as she scoffed before turning around.

As she crossed the threshold, Nesta couldn’t help but think Cassian looked similar to his younger self from the photograph in his office surrounded by fellow military personnel.

**

Pushing the wheelbarrow through the barn, Nesta hated to admit that Cassian was right. The stalls were dirtier than usual in between cleanings.

“Damn horses.” Nesta mumbled underneath her breath as she went to the first empty stall. There was a stall sign that resembled a plaque installed into the front of the stall. The sign read “Odysseus”. There was no show name or owner name, but as they didn’t board the barn out to outsiders, it made sense why there was no need to showcase the owner.

With the pitchfork in her gloved hand, Nesta cleaned out the stall, ridding it of the dirty hay and shit that littered the stall mat. Next, Nesta grabbed the buckets from the stall, giving the water and food buckets a good rinse both drying them off. On her way back, she grabbed new bedding. She layered the new bedding over the mat, making sure it was rid completely of manure and wet bedding before the new bedding was placed.

Before coming to the ranch, Nesta couldn’t remember the last time she used any of her muscles before her fall. She used to dance on the side, and did it while she drank, but it had been almost a year since she last had the urge to dance at all. The first two weeks were rough, but slowly the settled routine gave her some stamina to flesh out.

It didn’t stop her from breaking a sweat once she finished the first stall. The wheelbarrow wasn’t too full, so Nesta moved along to the next empty stall, when something shiny caught her eye. It was a necklace that hung right outside the stall. Taking a closer look, Nesta’s fingers held it up.

A dog tag.

Usual dog tags had the person’s full name, service number, blood type, and religion, instead this one read something entirely different.

Baby Bat | NCAF | PJ

Confusion scrawled onto Nesta’s features as she touched the custom made dog tag. NCAF was the Night Court Air Force, but nothing came to mind with PJ. Maybe it was their unit? But who was Baby Bat? Her teeth bit her bottom lip as she recalled hearing that Rhysand and Azriel served in the NCAF with Cassian, could this be one of theirs?

But as Nesta looked up she noticed another silver dog tag at a different stall. How did I not notice these before? This one read as:

Bat Jazz | NCAF | PJ

Apparently they were fond of bats in this family..Nesta rolled her eyes as she looked back up, noticing four more tags across different stalls. She tilted her head, thinking.

There’s six tags in here, but the photo in Cassian’s office, including him there was seven. Rhysand and Azriel were not in that photo either. Nesta thought to herself as she tried to piece together a puzzle with half the box missing.

“Hey Nesta.” A voice said behind her.

Nesta immediately jumped up, shock and fear twirling around her spine as she spun around to face the person.

“What the fuck..oh..Azriel..what are you doing?” Her gaze traveled from his face to his hands full carrying a western saddle. The color was a rich dark brown, almost black with the horn at a normal height.

“Not much, just polished my saddle for Singer.” She blinked. It was the first time she saw either of the Valyrian brothers hold horse tack.

“Do you compete?” Nesta nodded to the saddle. “Yes’em.” A draw flowed from his voice. “'You ever learned to ride western?” Nesta snorted. “Of course I did. Just because my focus was on English equestrian didn’t mean I didn’t branch out of it every once in a while.”

She leaned against the stall door. “What do you compete in?” Azriel shrugged. “I do a little of everything at the rodeos. Although I focus mainly on bull riding.”

“You bull ride?” Her jaw dropped, just a fraction. “Sure do. Windhaven is small enough that my record is impressive.” “Which is what, three seconds?”

“Ten seconds actually.”

From what she knew about bull riding, which wasn’t a lot, it was extremely impressive. Her gaze traveled up and down Azriel noting the muscles she never really noticed before in his shoulders and arms. They weren't as thick as Cassian’s but Nesta could tell the muscles were strong. A slight pink dusted on her cheeks as Azriel caught her stare but moved past her, heading to the tack room before returning.

“Who’s Baby Bat?” Nesta asked, pointing to the dog tag. Azriel stopped in his tracks. “A friend of the family.” His tone was melancholic. It seemed that he stared off in the distance, almost looking right through her. Nesta held her tongue, not wanting to take a deep dive today.

“Thank you for today, helping with Gwyn and all.” Nesta commented, changing the subject. At the drop of the ginger’s name, Azriel regained his focus at Nesta. “I should be thanking you actually. I worked with her when she came here last and I generally thought it was normal nerves, but something was off. And my mother raised me to be a respectful gentleman, so I didn’t push.”

“Weren’t you raised by Rhys’ mother?” Nesta asked. He shook his head. “A story for another time.” They stood in silence as they ventured off into awkward territory if neither of them spoke or did something.

“How long have you been into her? Gwyn I mean.”

Azriel startled. “When did I say I was into Gwyn?” “I may be a recovering alcoholic, but I know the laws of attraction, Azriel.” “It’s nothing.” Azriel grumbled.

“You have this look on your face when you’re with her, you know. Growing up I would hear it all of the time by my sister. The Artist’s Gaze.” Nesta rolled her eyes. “You could stare at a work of art for hours and never bore, never stray.” “I’m assuming Feyre was the one to say this, not Elain.” Azriel replied, leaning against one of the box stalls.

Nesta’s stomach twisted. “It was actually Elain. That’s how she would describe Feyre whenever I called home to check on them.” “How do you know, Elain?” She crossed her arms at the mention of her sister. Her words from their last phone call haunted her mind.

“It’s complicated.” Azriel said, dropping his gaze. “It always is with an Archeron.” Nesta mumbled before she looked at her phone, checking the time.

“I need to head out to AA or else I’ll be late, come on.”

**

Tag List (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @chairofchaos, @blueunoias, @velarisdusk, @c-e-d-dreamer, @jsmelodies, @inkedinshadows, @wolfnesta, @lilah-asteria, @highqueenmorrigan, @daughter-of-lethe

[silvermahogany]

HAPPY BLUE EXORCIST RENEWAL IM GONNA SHIT MYSELFHFHFHGGHHG CONGRATS LEWIN ON THE POTENTIAL SCREENTIME!!!!

[ssreeder]

Hi! Thank you so much for posting the new chapter :) I can’t even put into words how much I love your work. It feels crazy because I have been following liab for over a year now and I think I’ve never been this consistent with anything in my life :D i don’t know if it’s a secret but do you have the next chapters already planned out? And do you know how many chapters this part is going to be? Thank you for you hard work!!

Hiii aww I’m so glad you liked the new chapter! & yeah wow I’ve been writing this fic for like 2 years I think, shiiiit what is time ahhh. Thanks for sticking with me so long <3

I actually have pretty much all the chapter planned out until the battle begins but my problem is I do them by events so it’s like I want this this and this to happen in a chapter but idk how long it’ll take to make that happen but I know what I want to write lol.

(& sometimes the characters don’t LISTEN & I say be nice and make this an easy talk and they’re like no fuck you author I wanna fight right now and the convo takes 1.5k instead of idk 500 words lol. )

I just posted chapter 15 & I’m going to GUESS we are about halfway done. In my mind we are halfway through the last book and that means we have roughly 15 chapter left to go then the epilogue.

I’m pretty good at estimating chapter count but horrible at word count estimation haha.

Thanks for the ask I hope you have an awesome day!!

[nervouslywaitingforlife]

Y'all are unaware of the Ragu I'm cooking for the next chapter of FU/D/IL

[stevie-petey]

episode two: trick or treat, freak

 “Why do you only ever care about me when I’m some kicked fucking puppy?” Steve’s words are vicious, and you flinch at his tone. “You know that’s not true,” “It’s not?” He scoffs at you. “Then explain what happened this summer.” “I…” You can’t.  Steve sees your reluctance to say anything and lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, whatever. Some real fucking friend you were.”

Summary: you and nancy have a bonding session in the library (kinda hot tbh), billy gives jonathan and steve a common cause to unite on: Protect Y/N, you're a chauffeur to a very sad steve harrington, and dustin uses will's trauma to his advantage.

Rating: general, slight cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, slight sexual harassment (billy corners reader and is gross), cursing, alcohol

Words: 7.9k

Before you swing in: hello ! new chapter, we've arrived at halloween !! i finally get to have a fun authors note comment: i crashed my car lol. i'm fine tho and i hope yall enjoy and like what ive done and changed a bit with this episode. i had fun coming up with costume ideas for the reader, i think the character fits her well :) and before i go: i start school next week, so updates will def be coming a bit slower after this. anyways, happy reading !

-

The Henderson house is pure chaos morning of Halloween. 

Dustin is running around the house, screaming about how his costume has to be absolutely perfect and that if you don’t hurry up with the jack-o-lantern pancakes then he’s going to just leave without eating breakfast. Meanwhile your mother is running after him, straightening his suit and tidying his hair. 

“The pancakes are almost done, my god.” You flip the last pancake, but in your rush the jack-o-lantern’s smile turns into more of a grimace, but hey, food is food. You quickly set Dustin’s plate down on the table and practically shove him into the seat. 

“Eat.”

“But my proton blaster–”

“Is on the steps, I’ll grab it. Eat, I want pictures with you.” You kiss the top of your brother’s head and then run over to grab his costume’s prop. 

“I’m thirteen now, I don’t need my sister doting on me–” Dustin complains, but then his eyes land on the mini Reese’s Pieces you’ve decorated his pancakes with and quickly changes his tone. “Oh! Candies! Yummy!”

You laugh at him and bring his backpack over. The Ghostbusters matching costume idea that boys have planned for today makes you want to just sweep them all into your arms and kiss their tiny little faces. They may be getting older with crushes and angsty feelings, but they’re still the same nerdy little boys you met when you were twelve. 

Dustin wolfs down his pancakes and your mom prepares her camera. You woke up earlier than usual this morning specifically so that you could make Dustin’s annual Halloween pancakes and then take pictures of him with his costume on. As soon as he’s done eating, you and your mom whisk him towards the fireplace for pictures. 

“Oh, I want to see those pearls!” Your mother squeals as she takes a million pictures of Dustin. When he smiles, she loses her mind. “Yeah! Lovely, I love it!”

You’re just as ecstatic as your mom. “Who you gonna call Dustin?”

“Ghostbusters!” He sings along, holding up his proton blaster with an even wider smile on his face. 

It’s a happy morning. 

Dustin puts on a show as he poses for your mom, and you even join in for some. Sure, you aren’t in costume, but who knows how many more mornings like these you have left? Dustin is getting older, all the boys are, so you plan on cherishing these mornings for as long as possible. 

You and Dustin are giggling as you now stand back to back, him holding his blaster and you holding up finger guns, and your mom is taking multiple final pictures when Jonathan arrives. He knocks on the door before letting himself in. When he sees you and Dustin posing, he starts loudly belting the Ghostbusters song. 

“God, bee. At least let my coffee kick in before you subject me to your horrible singing.” You playfully groan, grabbing your own backpack and pancakes to eat on the road. 

Jonathan ignores your teasing and ruffles Dustin’s hair. “Nice costume, bud.”

Dustin, seemingly still holding a grudge against the guy after your conversation from last night, slaps his hand away and glares at him. “Don’t mess up the hair.”

Your brother proceeds to stare Jonathan down, gives him an “I’m watching you” gesture, and then walks out the front door without any further words. You, Jonathan, and your mom all stand in the living room in varying states of emotions. You’re trying not to laugh at your brother’s antics, your mom is happily looking at the photos she took, and Jonathan is standing there in complete confusion. 

“What was that about?” He asks you, slightly hurt by Dustin’s rebuff. 

“Shhh,” you hand him a plate of pancakes and then walk towards the front door. “Let’s get to school, bee.”

– 

At school, the mullet guy from yesterday finds you at your locker as soon as Jonathan has walked away. The two of you had been running behind schedule, so you’d told Jonathan to head to first period so at least he’d be on time while you tried to find your history textbook. 

As you’re digging through your locker, the mullet guy stalks up behind you. 

“I never got your name,” he says with a breathy voice, standing way too close behind you. 

You straighten your back, but don’t turn around. You know that if you do, the guy will only get a kick out of having your face close to his. “You never asked.”

“So there’s some sass to you underneath all that sweetness.” His breath hits the back of your neck and you shiver, but in a way that makes you feel dirty and unclean. 

“What do you want?” You ask the guy, your fingers wrapping around the textbook that you’ve finally found. If needed, you’re sure it’ll make a handy weapon. It’s only you and the guy in the hallway. Everyone else has holed up in class and you’re now regretting sending Jonathan away. You feel trapped, vulnerable, and you hate it. 

Mullet man chuckles deeply, his voice reverberating against your back. “Nothing yet. Just thought I’d introduce myself to such a pretty face.” 

You don’t say anything, your fingers only tighten around your textbook. If he gets any closer, you’ll swing. 

Though you can’t see him, you can feel his eyes flicker to your textbook and he lets out another cruel laugh. “Loosen up, sweetheart, I won’t hurt ya.” You don’t move, and he seems to get another kick out of this. “My name is Billy. Remember that for me, alright?”

Finally Billy steps away from you and you slowly release all the tension that’s built up within you. You still don’t turn around, he hasn’t left yet, but your hands are shaking a bit and you feel unsteady. 

“Would you do me a favor, Billy?” Your voice is steady, there’s no trace of the fear within you.

“I’m listening,” Billy is practically purring and you want to gag at how much his cockiness oozes around you. 

You turn, now finally facing him, and slam your textbook against Billy’s chest. “Learn some fucking personal space.” 

Billy’s only reaction is a smile, which only makes you more uncomfortable, but you refuse to show him this. Instead, you square your shoulders and walk towards your first class. You’ve dealt with assholes in the past; you’ve known Steve Harrington since you were twelve. But Billy is different. 

You’re not sure if you want to find out just how different he is from Steve. 

– 

Another small highlight of your school year so far has been your study sessions in the library with Nancy resuming. The two of you had drifted apart this summer, you just rarely ever saw the girl in between your hectic work schedule and her dates with Steve, but from the first day of junior she’s helped you with your math equations and you’ve helped her with her english essays. 

It’s a good trade off and you’ve enjoyed spending time with the girl. Unlike last year, Jonathan doesn’t join anymore. He can’t be too close with her now that she’s back with Steve. So, it’s just you and her for an hour every day during study hall. It’s nice, if you’re being honest.

Today though there’s something off with Nancy. 

She’s been tapping her pencil on the table for the last few minutes. Right before you can politely ask her to stop, the tip of the pencil snaps in half. She sighs. “Shit,” 

“There’s a sharpener over by the window,” you point towards the general direction. “Sharpen your pencil before these equations officially end my life.”

Nancy laughs, excusing herself and walks over to the sharpener. 

You focus back on your homework, the equations swimming around in your brain. It’s not that you’re necessarily bad at math, but you’re no whiz at it either. You get lost in the practice problems, erasing and re-erasing frequently, and you don’t realize just how long Nancy has been gone until she returns. She sits down, and you’re about to make a horrible joke about how stupid it is to find x, when you notice how shaken Nancy looks. 

“Woah, hey.” You set your pencil down and turn your attention to Nancy. “Are you okay? You look upset.” 

Nancy looks towards one of the library’s private study rooms and you see Steve’s retreating figure. You gather that something’s happened between them, but it confuses you because they’ve been nothing but lovey dovey ever since they got back together. What could possibly cause strife between them? 

“C’mon, you can talk to me. I’m known for my fantastic advice.” You probe again, and this time Nancy lets out a soft chuckle. 

“It’s… complicated.” 

“Take all the time you need. I’ve been stuck on question five for like, twenty minutes now. Any distractions are welcomed.” 

Now Nancy lets out a genuine laugh and you find yourself laughing as well. The storminess behind her eyes from earlier has lessened, she looks more relaxed now. Once she’s done laughing, she takes a deep breath and starts from the beginning. “Steve and I have been having dinner with Barb’s parents.”

When Barb’s name leaves Nancy’s lips, you feel your stomach twist with guilt. Had you known this would be about Barb, you wouldn’t have pestered Nancy so much into speaking. You know how much she misses her best friend still, no one blames her. 

“Well that sounds nice,” you try to comfort. “I’m sure they appreciate your company.”

Nancy bites her lip and looks away from you. “They wouldn’t if they knew Steve and I killed Barb.”

Shock washes over you. “Can I ask for some context?”

“Steve and I… When I forced Barb to come to his stupid party with me, we–we left her alone that night. By the pool…” Nancy’s voice cracks, and you grab her hand to encourage her to keep going. “We went upstairs to have sex, and Barb–she didn’t want me to leave her alone but I–I did and–”

You remember the photos Jonathan took last year, specifically the one where Barb had been sitting all by herself along the pool’s edge. Behind her had been a shadowy figure, a monster you soon would learn was from an alternate dimension with an intent to kill. 

“You think Barb died because you left her alone to go have sex with Steve.” You finish for Nancy, her tears rendering her unable to say more. 

She nods, looking away again as more tears stream down her face. You feel horrible for her, knowing first hand just how cruelly guilt can eat away at someone. Jonathan doesn’t know this, but you still think you’re the reason Will disappeared last year. You were the one who left him alone that night. If you had been there, if you had dropped him off at the Byers’ doorstep, you’re sure that he would’ve never ended up facing the horrors that he did. 

As for Nancy, you understand everything she’s feeling and more. It isn’t fair how one simple choice, one moment of selfishness, can lead to such tragedy and pain. 

Cautiously, you ask Nancy a question. “Does Steve know about the guilt you feel?” 

“He knows, but he doesn’t understand.” Nancy’s voice laces with grief and bitterness. “He found me by the pencil sharpener. There was this girl, she looked so much like Barb and I just… I zoned out. I was stuck there, thinking about her, when he found me.” 

“Did he notice you were upset?”

“Of course he noticed. He’s Steve, I could shed a single tear and he’d be all over me like I’m some baby.” Nancy scoffs, which makes you frown. You’re not sure what’s so wrong with that, having someone so attuned to your emotions because they love you that deeply. 

You push aside your thoughts, however. “What happened, then?”

“We went into a study room and I snapped.” Nancy’s close to tears again. “I just… I want to tell Barb’s parents what really happened. They’re selling their house, Y/N. They’re selling their own home to afford this private detective who promised them he’d find out what happened to her. What–what kind of person would I be if I let my best friend’s parents go bankrupt for being worried about their only child?”

“Nancy…”

“And Steve, he just… He told me it was a bad idea, that–that our families could get hurt and all that bullshit, but what am I supposed to do? I’m trying to figure something out, to fix this, and Steve just wants to go to some stupid party and pretend everything is okay?” Nancy is almost shouting now, and you nervously look around to make sure you're not disturbing anyone. It’s still a library, after all.

Nancy takes a few seconds to collect herself, to steady her breathing and control her anger. You let her take all the time she needs, and when she seems calm enough, you speak. “I understand where you’re coming from and why you’re upset. What happened to Barb is despicable, but… Well, I also agree with Steve.” 

“Y/N–”

“No, okay. Listen for a second,” you pause, trying to figure out exactly how to say what you’re thinking. “I think Steve means well, he doesn’t have a malicious bone in that silly body. The Halloween party can be a good thing for you if you let it, a way to destress. You have to move on, you have to allow yourself to move on.”

Nancy tries to argue some more but you continue. “I understand your guilt better than anyone else, I was the one who lost Will that night. But we all signed those contracts, Nancy. If we told anyone what really happened to Barb… It wouldn’t be fair to everyone who gets hurt, all our family members, because we broke a legal oath. You understand that, right?”

“I understand, but it’s not fucking fair.” Nancy’s eyes have a determination in them that startles you. You’ve always known that she was fierce, but seeing the edge in her eyes almost scares you. She’s angry, more than you’ve ever seen her before. 

You sigh. “I know, I wish I could do more, but…”

Nancy nods, understanding that there’s not much else you guys can do. You hate to let her down like this, you know she needs to hear something else, to feel supported, but you don’t know what else to tell her. 

Steve’s right in his own way, and so is Nancy. 

“Can you at least come to the party tonight?” Nancy softly pleads. “It’s just, I’ll feel more comfortable with you there, like I’m less crazy… I mean, that is if you even want to come and–”

“Of course I’ll come, Nance.” You don’t even hesitate to promise her this, nor do you realize that you’ve just called her “Nance”. It slipped from your tongue naturally, as if solidifying your friendship with the girl. You hate parties and loud crowds, but if Nancy needs you there by her side, to hold her hand and remind her of how brave she is, then you’ll happily do so. 

Nancy sinks into her seat, relieved. “Thank you, I owe you one.”

“I’ll hold you to that, you know.”

Nancy throws a piece of paper at you and you dodge it, throwing your pencil at her in retaliation. The two of you break out into a fit of giggles until the librarian eventually snaps at you guys and reminds you to be quiet. 

You reluctantly get back to work, and as you’re writing down more complex equations, you notice that there’s still a far off look in Nancy’s eyes. You know that she’s still thinking about Barb, the guilt eating away at her, and you know that the topic is far from settled.

–  

Halloween is in full swing the second Jonathan drops you off at home from school. There’s already kids milling around up and down your block in an assortment of costumes, all squealing with joy as they collect their candy. 

“Meet you in two hours?” You ask Jonathan as you unbuckle your seatbelt. 

“Yeah, but remember that I’m not wearing a costume.”

“C’mon, bee! It’s Halloween, where’s your holiday spirit?”

Jonathan groans. “Nag at me all you want, I’m not dressing up. I will, however, offer to be your arm candy.” 

“That’s the spirit!” You kiss Jonathan’s cheek and run out of the car and straight into your house. You have two hours to wrap up goodie bags for the neighborhood kids and then get dressed in your costume. It’ll be a tight schedule, but luckily you’re off of work tonight. 

It takes you about an hour to assort all your gift bags, separating the boys’ bags from the local kids’ bags, and before you know it you’ve successfully hand packaged goodie bags for an entire army. Once you’re done, you run to your room and throw on your costume. The dress slips over your head and settles gently over you.

You stand in front of your mirror and smile. 

It’s perfect. 

You’re going as Princess Buttercup tonight for Halloween. You read the Princess Bride around the end of summer and quickly fell in love with Buttercup. You’re not sure if you fell in love with the character because you read the book right after pushing Steve away, or because you saw yourself in Buttercup, but you came to adore her. 

Buttercup may have been a bit ditzy, but she loved with everything within her, and with such a passion, that you couldn’t help but admire her. It was her love for others that ultimately drove the story further, and you think there’s something beautiful about that. 

The red dress fits perfectly around you and you grab the gold chain that will serve as your belt. Once you’ve secured it around yourself, you place Buttercup’s golden circlet around your head. The costume had been pricier than you would’ve preferred, but as you stand in front of the mirror, you truly do feel like a princess. 

Your bee necklace, a wonderful gift from Jonathan, catches light from your window and you smile, bringing your fingers up to the pendant. It’s the only jewelry you need.

“Y/N! Are you almost done? Will radioed that they’d be here soon.” Dustin pounds on your door. 

You fling the door open. “I’m done, I just need to put on some makeup.”

Your brother makes a face as he walks into your room and plops himself down onto the beanbag. “You own makeup?”

“Yes, dear brother. I’d wear it more often if I had the time, but between herding you around and my school assignments, I can’t.” You dig through your makeup bag, opting for just mascara and a shimmery pearl eyeshadow. You’ll put on your lipstick in the car to save some time. 

“This doesn’t have anything to do with Jonathan, does it?”

You roll your eyes at Dustin. “No, believe it or not I can choose to do things without the influence of others.”

“Hmm, alright. Hurry up though, Mike had this awesome plan to hit up every house with the big candy bars and–”

“Dustin!” You throw a pillow at the boy, shutting him up. “Shush so I can focus.”

He grumbles but remains silent, now watching as you put your makeup on. It’s been a while since you’ve last worn any, so you’re slower than usual. Just as you’re finishing up your mascara, a car honks outside. 

Dustin runs out the room and you quickly grab your lipstick and follow after him. You’re wearing your mother’s mary janes again and they pinch your feet as you run, but whatever. You feel pretty tonight, you’re somebody else for now, a princess free from any burdens and stress. 

Jonathan is standing outside his car, waiting for you, and when you see him you practically fling yourself in his arms. “You dressed as Westley!”

He spins you around a bit, his plastic sword hitting against his leg. “You wanted me to wear a costume, right?”

You nod, inspecting his costume with glee. He looks amazing, dressed in Westley’s iconic all black attire, his sword by his side, and a mask tied loosely around his neck. To anyone else, Jonathan would look like a regular guy with an affinity for black, but to you, he was dressed as your knight in shining armor. 

He’s the Westley to your Princess Buttercup. 

Jonathan kisses your knuckles. “Well then, as you wish.”

His words are smooth velvet against your skin, they warm you as the late October air encases you. As you wish, words that became their own I love you within the book. A promise, similar to the one Jonathan made you last year in the passenger seat of his car, pinkies intertwined. 

Something stirs within you, seeing Jonathan’s proud smirk on his face because he’s once again managed to surprise you, and the feeling is sickly sweet like syrup. It runs through you slowly, covering every inch of you, and you bask in it.

For now, he’s still yours. 

“Can we go now? You guys are gross.” Dustin calls from the car, annoyed. 

You and Jonathan spring apart in embarrassment. He laughs, rubs the back of his neck, and tells you, “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Why thank you,” you curtsy. “You look rather dashing yourself, good sir.”

“I wasn’t kidding. You look… you’re beautiful.” The sincerity in Jonathan’s voice cuts through you, it cuts through everything between you, and you can only smile. 

“Thanks, bee.” You try to keep your voice playful, light and airy as always. “Now, open my door like the brave hero you’re dressed as.” 

Jonathan opens your door with a bow, causing you to laugh. You’re sitting in the backseat with Dustin, Will is in the passenger seat, and once you’ve buckled up, Will spins around in his seat to talk to you as Jonathan starts the car.

“Do you think it’s lame that you and Jonathan trick-or-treat with us?

You blink. “What did I miss?”

“I think it’s kinda lame,” Dustin voices next to you, but he lets out a pained squeak after you’ve elbowed his ribs. 

Jonathan turns onto the main road and scoffs at the boys. “You think we’re lame?”

“No, but…” Will sinks into his seat, and you watch as he begins to fiddle with the strap of his bag. He’s nervous. “It’s not like Nancy’s coming to watch over Mike, you know?”

Jonathan’s silent, and you catch his eye in the rear view mirror. You know what he’s thinking: Will has been having even more problems in school, he’s sick of being babied, and yet here you guys are, babying him. 

You sigh. “Look, Will. We like trick-or-treating with you guys, we don’t go are your babysitters. We go because it’s fun and I get to enjoy free candy as a sixteen year old.” 

Will looks out the window and doesn’t acknowledge what you’ve said. You sigh again, knowing that nothing will appease him. He’s only allowed you to see a small portion of how much he’s struggled this year, but you can see his foundations crumbling. 

How is he expected to adapt if you and everyone around him refuse to let him do so?

You catch Jonathan’s eye again in the rear view mirror and he seems to be thinking the same thing. 

Mike and Lucas run out the Wheeler’s house as soon as you guys park in the driveway. Dustin immediately bolts out the door to greet them, obviously uncomfortable with all the tension, leaving you and Jonathan with Will.

Jonathan looks at you one last time and you nod your head in encouragement. He has to do this, he has to let Will grow on his own. 

“Hey, listen.” Jonathan says, stopping Will from leaving. “If I let you go on your own, you promise to stay in the neighborhood?”

Will’s face lights up. “Yeah! Yeah, totally.”

“And be back at Mike’s by 9:00.”

“9:30?”

You reach over and pat Will’s back. “Now you’re pushin’ it, buddy.”

“What Y/N said. Be back by 9:00.” Jonathan instructs, but there’s a fond smile on his face. “Deal?”

“Deal!”

The brothers shake on it and you watch them with a smile. Jonathan hands Will one of Bob’s cameras and makes a poor Dracula joke and you love these boys so much. You wave goodbye to Will as he quickly gets out of the car and runs over to his friends. There’s a new skip in his step, he’s happier than you’ve seen him in a while.

“Alright,” you crawl over the passenger seat and plop yourself in rather ungracefully. “I’d say that went well.”

“We made the right choice, right?”

“I hope so.”

Jonathan sighs and watches the kids, who have now started hitting each other with their candy bags. You flip down the windscreen and use the small mirror in it to apply your lipstick. When Jonathan sees what you’re doing, he does a double take.

“Wait, are you putting on lipstick?”

“Mhm,” you knit your brows together, focused. “We’re going to a party.”

“We are?”

“Nancy begged me to come, and we just left the boys to go trick-or-treating on their own, so what else are we supposed to do tonight?”

“Nancy begged you to come–”

You finish your lipstick and flick Jonathan’s nose to shut him up. “Stop asking so many questions and just start the car, doofus.”

– 

The Halloween party is in full swing by the time you and Jonathan arrive. There’s a bunch of drunk teens in an array of costumes, ranging from classic heroes to dumb movie references, and the music is so loud you could hear it while you were still five blocks away. 

Jonathan parks the car and looks around wearily. “Are we really doing this?”

“Unfortunately I hate disappointing people, so yeah. We are.”

“One day your people pleasing needs will get you in trouble.”

“I will stab you with your plastic sword.”

“So sweet to me,” Jonathan quips, which you roll your eyes at. 

As you’re walking to the front door, you hear a crowd chanting Billy’s name. You freeze, knowing it could only be that awful mullet guy from earlier, and quickly shove Jonathan inside the house. 

“Who’s Billy?” He asks, confused.

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, let’s try to find Nancy–”

“Nice costume.” A girl dressed in goth attire interrupts you, her eyes only on Jonathan. 

Oh great. Another girl interested in Jonathan. 

Jonathan looks between you and the girl. “Huh?” 

“Nice costume. Going as a goth with a sword?”

“Actually,” you step in front of Jonathan now, forcing the girl to acknowledge your presence. “We’re matching. He’s Westley, I’m Princess Buttercup. Do you like it?”

The goth girl rolls her eyes. “Yeah, totally.” She steps past you and faces Jonathan again. “I’m Samantha.”

Jonathan is again looking between you and the girl, this time with even more fear and confusion on his face, and you almost want to laugh at him in pity. He’s never had a girl so blatantly hit on him, it’s almost hilarious if you ignore the fact that you’re in love with him. 

You leave Jonathan to handle the situation himself, scanning the room for Nancy. When you finally spot her, your heart sinks. She’s dancing with Steve, who looks fucking criminally good in his costume. You’re not sure who he’s dressed as, but he puts his Raybans in his mouth and smirks at Nancy and suddenly you understand why so many girls whisper in the halls about his lips. 

Nancy looks even better, her white blouse accentuating her beauty even more. She’s dancing with her arms around Steve and now you suddenly really want a drink. Seems like they’ve made up, then. 

Right as you’re about to pull Jonathan away from that Samantha girl and call it quits for the night, defeated and pride wounded, you see Steve and Nancy begin to argue over by the punchbowl.

Shit. 

You head towards them, shoving past hoards of people who seem to refuse to move. Nancy sees you approaching and only seems to become more upset. Her movement is unsteady, her eyes droopy and glossed over, and even before you walk up to her you know she’s heavily drunk. She’s in a tug of war with Steve and a cup. It’s clear he’s trying to cut off her alcohol intake.

“Hey, Nancy is everything okay–” Your words are cut off as punch splashes all over her white blouse.

Everyone around the couple gasps, and you wince at all the attention. Everyone stares between you, Steve, and Nancy. You quickly find some napkins and begin blotting at her blouse, trying to get as much of the punch out of it, but she drunkenly bats you away. 

“Don’t need help,” she slurs, but you shush her. 

“I got it, why don’t we go get some water?”

Steve steps in front of you now, aware of the fact that everyone is still staring, and says his first words to you in months. “She’s my girlfriend, I’ll take care of her. Just… just go, Y/N.” 

He dismisses you with a wave and you feel hurt wash over you. He hadn’t even spared you a single glance, he just treated you like some annoying fly in his way. You watch, defeated, as Steve guides Nancy to a room and you’re left alone at a party you hadn’t even wanted to go to in the first place. 

How fun. 

You crumble up one of the napkins in your hand and will away your anger. You don’t deserve to feel angry at Steve’s actions, you’re the one who was so dismissive of him in the first place. He’s just following along, doing what you’ve forced him to do. 

As you’re lost in thought, Billy corners you in the kitchen.

“We meet again, sweetheart.” His breath reeks of alcohol and you cringe, the smell burning your nose. 

“Didn’t I tell you to learn some goddamn personal space?” 

Billy laughs dryly, stepping forward every time you take a step back. Too late, you realize what he’s doing. Before you can stop it, he has your back pressed against a nearby wall. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

You look around, but everyone who had been in the kitchen earlier seems to have left or are far too drunk to realize what’s happening. Billy is peering over you and every part of you wants to run away, to cower. You’ve never been able to handle aggressive men well, no matter how much of a front you put on around Lonnie, you always trembled when he was near. 

Billy is no different, and he sees your unease. “Aw, is the princess nervous?”

“I’m surprised Max taught you what a princess looks like.”

At the mention of Max’s name, Billy’s cocky grin slips. Confusion masks his face now, making him appear more human than obnoxiously handsome. “So you know my little sister?”

You try to shove past him, but Billy plants his feet down and places both arms against the wall, trapping you. He’s surrounded you, he wants a reaction out of you. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself to steady your heartbeat and appear indifferent. 

“I have my ways,” you shrug, but your heartbeat still pounds rapidly. 

Billy raises an eyebrow. “Pretty and intelligent. Why, look at you. I’m impressed, and yet I still don’t know your name.”

You try again to move, but Billy leans his head down and brings his lips to your ear to whisper, “I’ll beg for it, if you want me to.”

“Get off–” He’s too close. He’s too fucking close and his lips against your ear makes you want to throw up, you don’t like this and you feel so fucking pathetic being cornered by such an egotistical asshole. 

“Tell me your name, and I’ll go.” There’s a smile in Billy’s voice, you can hear it without even having to look, and it enrages you. You fucking hate men like him. 

“Just get the fuck off of me–” You’ve closed your eyes now as you shove harshly against his chest.

Suddenly there’s a thud, a loud “oomph”, and a collective gasp from onlookers at the party. Your hands meet the air, there’s now no one there to push against. Slowly, open your eyes. There, standing in front of you, is Steve holding a very angry Jonathan back while Billy is on the ground.

Jonathan yanks his arm free from Steve and stands over Billy, who is laying on the ground with yet another unnerving smile on his face. Your friend shakes his fist out, which you now see is red, Billy’s face showcases a matching mark. “She told you to get off of her.” 

A silence falls over the crowd.

Billy slowly stands up, wipes himself off, and then takes a bow. “Not bad, loner boy.”

Jonathan tries to step closer to him, but Steve grabs his shirt and shakes his head. “He’s not worth it, man.” 

“And what do you know about worth, Harrington?” Billy chuckles, now practically in Steve’s face. “Where’s that little girlfriend of yours? You should go ask her what she thinks you’re worth.” 

Steve’s face hardens, but you can see dried tears in his eyes. Seeing him about to crumble, you step between the boys. “Enough.”

They look at you, but you ignore them and then wave to the crowd of people still watching. “Show’s over! Go back to drinking away your sorry fucking lives.”

Jonathan pulls you close to him. “Bug, are you okay? Did he hurt you? We need to go home, I’ll bake you brownies and we can just–”

Jonathan’s concerned rambling is enough to make you smile, albeit faintly. “I’m fine, bee.”

Billy observes the interaction, he notices how Steve’s eyes flicker between your interlocked hands with Jonathan and the way your hair frames your pretty face. He sees it all, and he understands exactly what’s happening here. 

“Oh, Harrington.” Billy can’t wait to see what happens next. “You’re fucked.”

Steve watches as Billy leaves, confused by his words but too tired to think much of them. He’s had the worst fucking night of his life. His girlfriend just told him she doesn’t love him, then he came outside to see Billy pressing himself against you like some fucking creep. He hadn’t even gotten to help you, Jonathan had beaten him to it. All Steve could do was hold the guy back afterwards. 

Now Jonathan is holding your hands and whispering comforting words to you and you’re dressed in Steve’s favorite color, your lips an even prettier red, you’re wearing a goddamn tiara on your head like the princess you truly are, and Steve’s had just about enough of tonight. 

“I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N.” Steve tells you tiredly. He then turns to Jonathan. “Uh, Nance and I sorta… Can you just, give her a ride home? She doesn’t…”

Steve’s words catch in his throat and you grab his hand before you can stop yourself. “He’ll take her, won’t you, Jonathan?”

Jonathan stumbles over his words. “Sure, uh. Yeah, I can do that… What about you, though?”

You think about your conversation with Nancy earlier, how she seemed so upset with Steve, and how not even ten minutes ago they’d been fighting over by the punchbowl. There’s a hurt between them, one you think may be too big to patch up with just one conversation, but Jonathan doesn’t know all of this. 

“I’ll drive Steve home.”

Both boys stare at you like you’re insane, and honestly? You can’t blame them. 

You haven’t spoken to Steve in months, and Jonathan knows this better than anyone. 

“Y/N,” Steve lowers his voice. “I haven’t had anything to drink, there’s no need–”

“Too bad. I’m taking you home. Jonathan, go find Nancy and make sure she gets back okay.”

Jonathan and Steve try to argue, but you yank Steve’s hand and make him come with you. It’s long past time the two of you had a talk, anyways.

– 

When you exit the house, the weight of everything that’s just happened catches up to you. Your skin still feels raw, Billy’s presence lingering on you. Steve’s hand is warm in yours, but he isn’t holding on the way you secretly hoped he would. Jonathan’s confused and concerned eyes remain in the back of your mind, the image of him standing alone in the party makes you feel guilty. 

But you have to do this. You’re tired of being a coward.

Steve is silent as he guides you to his car. He’s parked pretty far, which you hadn’t been expecting. “What, do you not get a special parking spot as King Steve?”

He ignores your attempt at a joke and instead drops your hand. 

Okay. You deserved that. 

When you get to his car, Steve throws you the keys and silently gets into the passenger seat. You inhale, willing this to end well, and get in the driver’s seat. You start the car and the engine warms your fingertips. 

You start to drive. 

Steve is looking out the window, and you’ve never seen him appear so small. He’s closed into himself, his shoulders are hunched and his carefree smile from earlier is gone. 

“Not to make this awkward, but I kinda don’t know where you live.” You break the silence.

“Make a left up here.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened tonight–”

“Why do you only ever care about me when I’m some kicked fucking puppy?”

Steve’s words are vicious, and you flinch at his tone. “You know that’s not true,”

“It’s not?” He scoffs at you. “Then explain what happened this summer.”

“I…” You can’t. 

Steve sees your reluctance to say anything and lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, whatever. Some real fucking friend you were.”

You take a shaky breath. You knew this would be hard, but it still hurts more than you thought it would’ve. While you can’t tell Steve everything, you can offer him a half truth. It’s all you can afford, and it isn’t nearly half of what he deserves, but it’s all you can do. “I got scared.”

Your confession causes Steve to turn to you. “Scared?”

“Yeah, scared.”

“Gee, Y/N. That really explains a ton.”

You’re losing him again, so you offer him more. “I’m sorry, Steve. I really am. It’s just… I got scared, I’ve never been good at letting people in. I know it doesn’t excuse my actions, and you didn’t deserve any of it, but you just… You scared me.”

Steve is silent again, only mumbling a quiet, “Turn right after this light.”

“Look,” you push down your fear, you need him to hear you. “You came crashing into my life in such a violent way, and it became the best goddamn thing that happened to me. There you were, spending every day at my job just to talk to me. You asked me questions about myself and noticed things no one else had before and I just… I couldn’t do it.”

You look over at Steve and soften your voice, putting every ounce of your guilt and sincerity into your words. “I missed you.”

“Missed?” There’s something in Steve’s voice that you can’t quite decipher, it’s almost too delicate to examine. 

“Miss. I miss you,” you correct, and it takes everything within you not to confess more. To tell him you miss how his eyes turn a warm toffee in the late afternoon light, that you miss his obsession with his mom’s banana bread and that you have a recipe at home that you never got to make for him. You almost tell him that even though you pulled yourself away, you can’t seem to separate him from you. He’s everywhere. 

But what you can’t tell Steve, what would break you if he ever found out, is that you’ve come to love how he’s everywhere.

Steve is silent, and you swallow down your tears. It wasn’t enough, but at least you tried. 

As you turn into his driveway, Steve finally speaks. “All my life, all I’ve ever wanted was for people to like me.”

“Steve…”

“And every time I think someone finally likes me, I’m wrong. They leave me. I mean, you left me without a fucking word, Nancy lied about loving me, and my bullshit friends at school have replaced me with Billy.” 

Nancy lied about loving him?

Steve looks down at his hands, his eyelashes are wet with fresh tears. “I don’t know what I keep doing wrong.” 

You throw yourself across the car’s console and wrap yourself around the boy. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Steve places one arm around you, then slowly he places his other, and for the first time in months you’re finally back in his arms. He’s surrounded in you again, and he never, ever wants to let you go. 

“You won’t leave me again?”

Steve asks this so softly, as if too scared to bring the words into the light and risk them scaring you away. You tighten your arms around him and bury your nose into his neck, his cologne making your brain dizzy. “Never. 

And it’s enough for now. 

The pieces settle between you and Steve. Something clicks into place and you know that he feels it, too. He tightens his own arms around you, draws small circles against your back, and you stay like that for what feels like hours. 

Eventually the two of you break apart and head into his house. He offers you something warm to drink, but you decline. It’s late, you should be heading home soon. You ask Steve where his phone is and then call Jonathan, telling him to come get you from Steve’s.

Jonathan doesn’t ask any questions, his own voice sounding off on the phone. You know that tomorrow you’ll have to explain to him what happened with Steve, and he’ll have to explain what’s happened with Nancy. But tonight, you both settle on ignoring the topic for now. 

Steve waits with you downstairs for Jonathan. 

“If we’re going to be friends again, then I demand my nickname.” 

You look up at the boy and laugh. “What if I told you I still haven’t figured it out yet?”

“Can you at least give me a hint?” Steve bats his eyelashes at you and you shove him away with another laugh.

“Hm,” you think for a moment, reveling in the simplicity between you two again. “It’s lovely. That’s all I can say.”

Steve makes a face. “Lovely? That’s all I get?”

“Mhm.” You poke his face. “For now, please just trust that I’ll stay.”

Steve looks away for a moment, and you admire his lovely side profile, before he finally seems to settle on his thoughts. “Fine, but I expect some type of baked good every day from here on out.”

“Deal.” You raise your pinky and offer it to Steve, who smiles and shakes his head, but wraps his own pinky around yours.

Steve’s eyes are still red, from exhaustion and heartbreak, and yours are probably no better. You know there’s so much the two of you have to face tomorrow morning, to talk about and deal with. Nancy, Jonathan, Billy. But for now, Steve’s pinky is around yours and you couldn’t ask for a better end to your night. 

It’s a start.

It’s all you could’ve asked for. 

Jonathan arrives later and waits in the car, seeming to sense that you want some privacy as you say goodbye to Steve. 

“That’s my ride.” You nudge him. “Oh, don’t think I forgot about the Nancy thing. We’ll talk about that tomorrow.”

“What–”

“We’re friends again and I nag all my friends about their emotions. You were spared last year, but this year? Buckle up, buddy.”

Steve lets out a tired laugh. “Do I have to sign another contract?”

“Nah, you just have to trust me.”

“I do.” He says, no ounce of hesitation. 

You squeeze his hand. “Then that’s all I need. Goodnight, Steve. Get some rest.”

Steve nods and watches as you walk towards Jonathan’s car. He stays outside for a while, long after the car has faded in the distance. The cold air makes him shiver, but after everything that’s happened tonight, he welcomes it. His mind is spinning, he’s not sure if he feels more heartbreak or relief, but he decides he doesn’t care. 

For now, he’s content. 

Now that he has you in his life again, no matter what happens between him and Nancy, he knows he’ll get through it with you holding his hand. 

– 

The drive home is quiet. Both you and Jonathan seem to be lost in your own thoughts. When you get to your house, you simply tell your friend, “Tomorrow. We’ll talk about it all tomorrow,”

Jonathan nods, his eyes as tired as yours. “Tomorrow.”

You walk inside your house and notice all the lights off. You’re home later than you originally planned, your mom must be asleep already. You kick off your shoes and sigh tiredly. Tonight has exhausted you. 

However, you feel bad about skipping out on the boys, so you walk towards Dustin’s room and quietly knock on the door to apologize. After a few knocks, Dustin cracks his door open. “Yes?”

“Hey, just wanted to ask how tonight…” You notice Dustin’s stance, how he seems to almost be trying to block your view of something. “Is everything alright?”

Your brother quickly repositions himself. “Fine! Nothin’ to see here!”

He’s definitely acting suspicious. 

“Open the door, show me what’s inside.”

You go to shove your way in, but Dustin scrambles and ends up shouting, “Will had another episode tonight!

“What?” You freeze. 

Dustin lets out a breath of relief. He knew using Will’s episode would be a good distraction from what he has in his room. “Will, he had another episode. He’s fine, though… Just thought you should know.”

“Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

“Actually,” Dustin lets out a yawn. “I’m kinda tired. Ya know, trick-or-treating is hard work. Can we just call it a night and talk about it tomorrow?”

“I mean, I guess?” Your list of things you need to talk about tomorrow keeps growing. 

“Sweet! Goodnight, Y/N!” And with that, Dustin slams his door in your face. He presses his back pressed against his door as he steadies his heartbeat. That was close, too close. After a couple seconds, he walks over to his turtle’s tank and greets Dart again. “Sorry buddy, had to get Y/N away. She’d freak if she found out about you.”

Dart lets out a small screech in response. 

“Wonder how long I can keep this from her.”

Meanwhile, you stand in the hall for a moment, completely bewildered as to what’s just happened. It feels like you missed a few important details. There’s something happening, but you have no idea what.

You go to your room and make a plan. Tomorrow, you’ll order a code blue with Dustin and demand information. For now, all you can do is get ready for bed and hope that whatever he’s hiding, it isn’t as monumental as El had been. 

Tonight, you go to bed thinking of Nancy and Steve, worried about them both.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

⌑  taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @myeclispedsun @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking @criesinlies

[mxstellatayte]

okay this is so vague but a something for lewis based off the song pretty please by dutch melrose ?

I LOVE DUTCH MELROSE OMG I ABSOLUTELY CAN. also this one is dedicated my simply simply lovely bestie and horny ride-or-die (not like that) pookie @vivi-81 who has recently converted to being a lewis hoe <3 love you bestie

this fic is multiple chapters because i couldn't help myself! writing this dynamic is really really fun and i'm going to do my best to finish the fic by 15 september, but here is a teaser of the first chapter and the release schedule/masterlist!

this fic spans literal years. prepare yourselves yall because you're in for a WILD ride lol

teaser (this post): 4 september chapter 1: 8 september (🌻/🥀) chapter 2: 22 september (🌻/🪷) chapter 3: 6 october

teaser below the cut!

the conversation continues easily as the two of you finish your breakfast, then, as you begin to prepare yourself to stand and leave, he stops you. "actually, there's one last thing i wanted to do before we went on camera."

your head tilts in confusion as you set your signature lipstick back in your bag, a deep red balm that you've used since you started working at vogue. it's become your trademark product, and almost everyone in the office knows exactly which one you use. "do i need to be worried, lewis?"

"no, not at all! it's this," he says, and your eyebrows rise in complete and utter shock when he pulls out a small box wrapped in white paper and a crimson bow wrapped around it all. "i wanted to get you a gift as a way of saying thank you for all the curveball questions you've thrown at me this year." your hands shake as you take the box from him, and you already know exactly which brand it is. cartier. sure, you've written pieces about their timeless looks and elegant aesthetics, and owning a piece of their jewelry has always been a dream of yours, but it's always been just that: a dream.

"lewis, i can't accept this. i- i'm honestly at a loss for words. seriously, no." you can't help but flush at how he's looking at you, those annoyingly beautiful eyes of his and the stupidly perfect crow's feet that only show up when he really smiles- when he smiles the way he is now. gods, amelia was right. you really are down bad for the driver.

"please, just open it up. if you don't like it, i'll take it back and you can choose something you prefer." he nudges the box towards you once more, and the crisp wax seal that sits on top of the paper is incredibly enticing.

"are you serious?" a part of you wants to think that this is some sick joke, that there's cameras on you and it's all going up on one of those prank channels on youtube. a much, much bigger part of you believes lewis, though. that is the part of you that takes the box between your shaking hands, carefully pops open the wax seal, nimbly unties the beautiful ribbon, and gently unfolds the pure white paper. when you finally open the box, you gasp, tears threatening to well in your eyes. "lewis..."

"do you like it?" his voice sounds anxious and hopeful, and you can't help but realize how much thought he'd put into this gift. when you'd invited him into your office to review some photos that were to go into an article in the next vogue issue a few months prior, he'd seen the vision board on your wall and asked about it. bashfully, you had explained to him that it was a silly idea you had when you graduated from uni with your friends- each of you made one, cutting and pasting photos from pinterest, magazines, newspapers, and anything you could find, assembling your dreams in a mishmash of colors and ideas. one of your dreams on the board had been to own this exact necklace- the cartier juste un clou necklace in white gold. the fourteen diamonds set in the precious metal glitter back at you, and you can't help but smile.

"i love it, lewis. thank you so much." he visibly relaxes, his shoulders loosening and the crease between his eyebrows disappearing.

"i'm glad. here, turn around. let me put it on you?" you happily oblige, lifting your hair out of the way after you stand so that he can fasten the delicate clasp over your spine.

it's safe to say that both his and your fans noticed the necklace hanging between your collarbones, sitting just below the star necklace you wear daily on top of your dark grey high-collared shirt. you try your best not to look at the comments on the videos of your interviews, but amelia had shown you one that day after the unedited interview went up online.

"are they dating or something? i can't get over how lewis looks at her."

taglist: @pear-1206 @vivi-81

join my taglist here!

[svnnw]

WHEN YOU SMILE — bonus chapter

dude yk i didnt mean it like that..

masterlist

a/n – YALL IM BACK!!! if i have enough motivation i might be able to post a chapter tomorrow. ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS (we're at 530 now i just forgot 😭) tomorrow is monday again and it's gonna be a bit busy for me so i can't promise any new chapters this week 💔💔 BUT i already prepared a lot for my next smau!!! there will be a hint in the next few bonus chapter and i hope you guys are excited as i am 🤭🤭 AND if you want me to post a few bonus chapters for 'at midnight' i'll gladly do it!! i seriously miss y/n and haechan so much 😞💔💔

TAGLIST — closed @marvelahsobx @foxy-kitsune @sunflowerbebe07 @jenmongiii @haechansbbg @defzcl @buns-inhiding @minkyuncutie @gukuwii @bugcattie @jaeims @222brainrot @axo-l0tl @pnkified @yyangj3lly @haesluvr @choerubies @m1ng1swife @odxrilove @jising-jisang-jisung @junviadinho @mjnhoz @p4tyaraujo @sunghoonsgfreal @slayhaechan @meloncremesoda @nanaxwi @sehunniepot @wouldyoulikesomefrieswiththat @multifandomania @morkiee @loonathic @softpia @nctrawberries @tommina @nosungluv @tynlvr @miniature-tragedy @alethea-moon @starfilledgaze @polarisjisung @miyawwn @kittydollzz @bitchzitschimi @syzavxy @jeongintwt @vantxx95 @onlyhyunjin @rllymark @markeroolee

[ytmanzwhore]

Chase It - 2

read chapter one here

summary: nellie meets the so called tornado wrangler

warnings: none

AN: tagging my one friend who asked to be notified :) also if these seem split up weird it's because they're written for wattpad so some chapters may seem like abrupt endings. lemme know your thoughts! @stillhere197

Javi and Kate had somehow gotten the biggest burst of luck Nellie had seen in her nursing career, somehow convincing Nellie's supervisor to give her three shifts off after her next shift, so she could come with them on their chase. Nellie grumbled under her breath for a bit in the back of the car as they drove to meet up with the rest of Javi's team. 

"This is fancy as hell," Nellie said under her breath as she looked at the car she was sitting in, and all the new gear. "Javi how are you getting all this capital?"

"Storm Par has investors,"  he said simply as the three of them pulled up to a familiar sight Nellie had grown up on. A old school truck stop with small groups of people preparing to go chase some storms. As Javi pulled to a stop, Nellie's chest got a little tight as she felt for the first time what she was actually doing today. She was chasing for the first time in five years. 

The slam of doors knocked her from her stupor, and she jumped out of the car and followed Kate and Javi to a group of men. "Alright team," Javi gathered the group. "You guys have all heard me talk about Kate, and Nellie. The two of them have some of the best instincts I know, they're the best. And yall won't miss working with a better team. We've got PhDs from NASA, FEMA, NWS."

"And no women," Nellie said with a head tilt as Javi stumbled over his sentence.

"Well, my partner here went to MIT, not Muskogee State," Javi clapped the tall brunette on the shoulder. "But he makes up for it with his beautiful personality." Scott deapanned them with a smile.

"Likely," Nellie murmured as she turned her gaze away from the men and towards the skies. Javi and Scott's next words were cut off by a red truck coming screeching in the lot with the windows down and the music blaring. The amateurs in the lot began to frenzy as the trucks passed, and Nellie raised a brow as a brunette man leaned out of the window with a camera. 

"Are they filming?" Nellie asked in surprise as the man taunted Scott and the PhD's with a grin as he drove by. 

"Who are they?" Kate asked.

"Chasers out of Arkansas," Javi informed them with a frown. 

"Hillbillies with a youtube channel," Scott said. And with that, the group watched as the truck was thrown into park and a crowd formed as a big Stetson came through the open door and a tall blonde stood on the running boards.

"How you feeling Ty?" the camera man turned the lens to the blonde. 

"Feeling good Boone," the man smirked cockily. "And if you feel it?"

"Chase it!" the crowd yelled back.

"I said, if you feel it?"

"Chase it!" Nellie burst into laughter as she watched the spectacle in front of her.

"That's Tyler Owens," Javi told the girls as Nellie kept giggling, making eye contact with the blonde man, Tyler. Feeling his stare even through his dark sunglasses as he tipped his hat. She tipped her imaginary Stetson right back at him as Javi carried on. "Calls himself a Tornado Wrangler."

"A tornado what?" Nellie questioned as she watched as their van was opened and merch began to flow. "This is hysterical."

Javi pulled up a tablet, pulling some data for Kate to look at. Nellie let the blonde take the data, while she began walking to the open area next to the stop. Nellie heard Javi shoo off the crowd while she began to look at the sky. Looking East then West, taking a deep breath and getting that tingly feeling she hadn't let herself give into in five years. 

She leaned down to the grass, grabbing a dandelion for her and Kate, letting the petals fall as they looked at the sky. 

"You know I used to do that," Tyler said as he approached the two newcomers, talking to both of them but unable to keep his eyes off the petite red head who he was captivated by. "Compare the wind direction to cloud movement. Get a feel for the shear. Sometimes the old ways are better than the new."

Tyler watched both of them, carrying on when he didn't get a response. "Where yall in from?"

"New York," Kate said crisply, and Nellie chose not to answer. 

"You're a long way from home City Girls," Tyler smirked, watching Nellie in confusion as she snickered. "So yall working with Storm Par?"

"Tyler," they were interruppted by a British man approaching them. "Do we know which storm we're chasing yet?"

"Well, why don't we ask these two-" Tyler paused, fishing for their names. 

"Nellie," the red head smiled kindly as she reached out to shake the Brit's hand. "This is Kate. We're your city girls."

"Hi Nellie," Tyler smirked. "Kate. I'm Tyler."

"Oh we couldn't miss that, with the t shirts, it's a little hard," Nellie smiled sweetly as Kate grinned. 

"I'm Ben, a reporter," the Brit stuck his hand out to Kate. "I'm writing a piece on american storm chasing and Tyler's letting me ride along with him."

"Ben just had to promise to only write good things about me," Tyler grinned. 

"Good luck with that," Kate said and turned around.

"Might have to dig deep Ben," Nellie giggled as she turned on the heel of her boot.

"Hold on," Tyler called out. "You didn't say where we're going. If we go West we double our chances. East? High risk, high reward."

"Go for the reward," Kate advised as Nellie shook her head and kept walking. "Wouldn't want Ben to think you're boring."

"Boring's not usually a problem for me," Tyler said as Kate followed Nellie.

"But humility apparently is!" Nellie called over her shoulder, offering Tyler and Ben a sweet smile and a finger wave as she approached Javi and Scott.

"We're going West," Nellie said to the boys, Kate catching up with her. 

"Cell to the East has better numbers," Scott protested.

"Doesn't feel right," Kate shook her head. 

"Yeah, cap's too strong," Nellie agreed. "Won't ever break." Scott sighed as Javi rallied the troops and everyone got back in the trucks. 

[bbina]

between the lines ★ it's bad for the both of them

⤷ from what started as a simple arrangement to hide your feelings for a certain someone by getting into in a fake relationship soon turns into a tangled mess. in which some things are hard to tell when you can’t read between the lines

 ˗ˏˋ prev | next  ˎˊ˗

★ notes .ᐟ had to include jjk in here somehow . cute chapter im ngl also 🪤 anon i was making this chapter amidst of ur asks and its such a coincidence you were talking about chocolate too 😭 so this chapter is dedicated to u LMFAO also are yall prepared for judgement day tomorrow

★ taglist .ᐟ @callanton @annswwa @renjuneoo @pinkraindropsfell @lecheugo @ilovejungwonandhaechan @ahnneyong @haechansbbg @snowyseungs @sseastar-main @odxrilove @leeknowarchives @onlywonb @wonychu @leehanascent @jaeyunsb @au-ghosttype @revehosh @keilovr @kyusqult @dreamyyyz @ether-yeol @yangasm @qwonbani @starwonb1n @ffixtionista @daegale @scrumptiousloser @seunghancore @marksluvs @wonbinfiles @ohmykwonsoonyoung @reenfluffmarshmallow @bunni @artstaeh @yizhoutv @sie17136 @koeuh @07yujin @poollabug @vernonburger @dutifullyannoyingfox @000rpheus @wccycc @sunus-sun @highhjime @chweverni @toosspicy @heartlvrrss @s9nwoo @yoursyuno @stanriize01 @rosesfortaro @lampcults @alwayswook

[sapphire-writes]

Girl In The Bar (modern hospital AU)

Do No Harm part 1 || masterlist || next part

pairing: doctor!Aemond Targaryen x doctor!Reader

summary: Your internship begins at Citadel General Hospital. But your first day does not go according to plan as a familiar face appears.

word count: 4.3k

note: here we go! my little celebration piece, the beginning of a new AU/mini-series! thank you so so much for all the love and support ❤️

warnings below the cut!

warnings: medical terminology, stitches/sutures, mentions of blood, concussions, nausea, referencing spicy times but nothing explicit in this chapter

disclaimer: yall, I am not a doctor, I am simply a Grey's Anatomy stan. If something is off or incorrect please just suspend your disbelief! I am trying my best to make it as accurate as possible but its just for fun!!

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

You’d been preparing for this. That’s what you keep telling yourself as you stand outside the doors of Citadel General Hospital. Four grueling years of med school weren’t for nothing. Your heart beats steadily, only slightly quicker than usual as you take a deep breath to steady yourself. 

You can’t help but stare up at the large building in front of you, watching the sunlight reflect off of the many windows, obscuring the view of the occupants inside.

“Are you going in?” a girl says sliding up beside you, curly brown hair flowing freely around her face. She gives you a crooked smile, tilting her chin to signal you inside. There’s a faded scar across the bridge of her nose along with a dusting of freckles. 

“Can’t believe it’s the first day,” she sighs as the doors open and you follow her inside, “We met at the intern mixer briefly.”

The mixer was held a few weeks ago. You'd met most of the other medical interns and gotten a tour of the hospital. CGH is massive; it’ll take time to learn the lay of the land. You follow her down the hall towards the intern locker rooms. Scrubs wait for you and you hurriedly begin to change into them. Nettles scoops her hair into a large bun on top of her head, wrapping a scrunchie around the mess of curls. 

“Right,” you say, nodding as you remember her, “It’s Annette, right?”

“Nettles,” she corrects, “Family nickname. Though from what I’ve heard, they barely refer to us by our first names.”

“That’s correct,” a guy says, throwing on his scrub top, “Be prepared to change your name to whatever your last name is.”

The guy glances at you, cheeks flushing. He rubs his dark curls out of his eyes, adjusting his light blue scrub top before extending his hand for you to shake.

“Jace Velaryon,” he introduces, squeezing your hand, “Or just Velaryon I guess.”

“Do you know who your resident is yet?” you ask, just as a woman in dark blue scrubs enters the room. Her red hair is held behind a scrub cap decorated with silver eagles. She holds a clipboard tightly in her hands, tapping a pen against the metal.

“Velaryon, Waters, Martell, Snow, and…” she pauses, before reading your last name, “You five. Baratheon will meet you at the nurses' station. Three minutes.” 

You hurriedly lace your sneakers as a locker from across the room slams shut. A woman with long ink-black hair elegantly plaited down her back hurries forward. 

“Thank you Dr. Arryn,” she calls, as the woman leaves the room.

Another young woman hurries from around the corner of lockers, struggling to pull her thick brown hair into a ponytail, “She didn’t say Baratheon, did she?” she asks, as her hair tie snaps. 

You reach into the pocket of your scrubs, holding out the spare you have. She smiles gratefully as she accepts it.

“Sara Snow,” she introduces, “We’re sure she said Baratheon?”

“Sure did,” the girl with the braid says, her dark eyes wide, “Cory Martell. Nice to meet you all for whatever time we have left.”

Jace chuckles nervously as Cory fiddles with her braid, taking a sudden interest in the ends of her hair.  

“What’s that mean?” Jace asks, looking at you all as you don’t respond, “Hello?”

“Ballbuster Baratheon,” Sara says with barely an audible whisper.

“Ah shit,” Nettles says, tilting her head back as she groans.

“Am I the only one who is lost?” Jace asks, “He can’t be so bad.”

Nettles only shrugs but gives you a wink before pushing forward out the door. You hurry after her, the rest of your cohort stumbling not far behind. The nurses’ station is bustling with people; the phones ringing continuously. 

Cory stands up straighter, flipping her braid over her shoulder. 

“Do you see him?” Jace asks, looking down the hallway.

“See who?” a doctor comments, eyeing Jace carefully. 

She’s wearing similar blue scrubs and holding a clipboard, black hair cut bluntly at her chin. 

“Dr. Baratheon,” Jace comments, still looking off in the distance, “Heard he’s a hard ass.”

The doctor raises an eyebrow at him, fire in her cobalt blue eyes. She wets her lips, before folding her arms in front of her, holding her clipboard against her stomach. 

“Very interesting Dr. Velaryon, assuming the scary resident is a man,” the doctor comments, flipping through her charts.

Jace’s face turns beet red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Sara glances at him, a pitying look on her face whilst Nettles attempts to hide her snicker with a cough. You elbow her slightly in the ribs and her eyes widen in feigned shock. 

“I didn’t—” Jace begins to ramble before being cut off.

“I didn’t ask,” Dr. Baratheon says, waving him off, “I’m Dr. Maris Baratheon, you may call me Dr. Baratheon. Not Maris, not Mari, not Baratheon. Is that understood?”

You all nod eagerly, mumbling your agreement, Jace looking rather pained.

“You’re interns,” Maris says, deep blue eyes scanning over you, “Runts—bottom of the food chain. Extensions of me-but don’t get in my way. When I move, you move. You will observe, you will listen and you will learn.”

She lets her gaze fall on each of you as she speaks, her tone not very friendly.

“You are my interns. My responsibility. You fuck up, it falls back on me,” she says, pointing her finger at each of you, “Do you think I like fucking up?”

“No ma’am,” Jace says, shaking his head back and forth. 

“Correct,” Dr. Baratheon says. 

The pager strapped to her waist beeps frantically and she glances down, before nodding; more to herself than to all of you. 

“Let’s move people,” she says, moving down the hallway.

You all begin shuffling behind her, quickening your pace to match the urgency of her walk. 

“I’m an idiot,” Jace says miserably, “She’s going to hate me forever.”

“Probably,” Nettles says with a snicker.

“She won’t hate you, she’ll understand you’re learning,” Sara insists.

“Oh yeah, she seems super understanding,” Cory agrees, but one glance at her reveals her sarcasm. 

Dr. Baratheon stops outside a room before turning back to the lot of you. You all nearly collide with each other trying to stop in time; Jace slams into Sara’s back and she pushes him with her shoulder. Cory reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small notepad and pen. 

“Who has been prepping my charts?” Dr. Baratheon asks, rolling her eyes at your scrambling. Your hand shoots into the air along with the rest of your cohort, “Good, you’re not entirely useless.” 

Dr. Baratheon opens the door, walking inside the airy hospital room. The windows are large, letting in rays of sunlight along with a beautiful view of the Honeywine River. It’s a clear day today, the blue water ripples and sparkles as some boats make their way further down the mouth of the river. 

“Come on in,” Dr. Baratheon insists, “Someone tell me what’s been going on.”

A girl sits on the hospital bed, tubes, and wires twisting away from her, a stuffed lion held tightly in her small arms. Her golden hair lays flat against her head and though her skin is pale, she smiles when Dr. Baratheon enters the room. A woman you assume to be her mother sits beside her, looking tired as she holds a cup of ice. 

“Cerelle Lannister, nine-year-old female,” Nettles begins, lacing her hands behind her back and straightening her shoulders, “Admitted while complaining of fever and muscle spasms localized to the lower body.”

“Thank you, Dr. Waters,” Dr. Baratheon says, walking to check the chart at the foot of her bed, “How are we feeling this morning Cece?”

Dr. Baratheon’s voice changes as she talks to Cece; it takes on a more caring, comforting tone. Cece smiles nervously, turning her flushed face to her mother. 

“She’s okay,” her mother answers, “The spasms seem to be about the same. Nurses said her fever broke last night.” 

“I’ve eaten so much ice, my tongue is numb,” Cece says, sticking her tongue out, “See? I bet it's blue.”

Sara giggles at the action and you can’t help but smile too. You hate seeing such a young kid in the hospital, it makes your chest tighten. 

“No blue tongue. But I guess you’re not interested in ice cream for dessert later?” Dr. Baratheon teases. 

Cece’s eyes widen and she shakes her head vigorously.

“Let’s not talk crazy now,” she squeaks, “I am always interested in ice cream.”

“Just making sure,” Dr. Baratheon says, cracking her first smile of the day, “Dr. Snow, how would you proceed?”

Sara stiffens at the sound of her name, clearing her throat. 

“Muscle spasms can indicate an overuse of the muscle or perhaps an electrolyte imbalance,” Sara begins, as though reciting from a textbook, “I would make sure she’s getting enough fluids and rest, get some labs done to confirm.”

“And after that?”

“Potentially a CT scan and MRI to rule out any potential nerve damage that may be contributing to the spasms.”

“What about the fever?”

“Fever is an immune response that indicates potential infection,” Cory interrupts, “We want to rule out a viral or bacterial infection.”

“Which first?”

“Rule out the infection first,” you interject, causing Dr. Baratheon to turn to you, “More likely bacterial than viral. Ms. Lannister doesn’t have symptoms.”

“Alright, yes,” Dr. Baratheon agrees, “What should we do if we think it's bacterial?”

“Gather a culture,” you continue, “Skin, nose, saliva. Run labs for those as well to rule them out.”

“Well Cece,” Dr. Baratheon says, turning back to the child, “You’ve got a competent group of doctors caring for you. We’re going to do our best to get you better.”

Mrs. Lannister squeezes her daughter's hand. Cece smiles shyly, holding her stuffed lion closer to her chest. 

You stand in line for lunch in the bustling cafeteria. Quick lunch, and then off to run for labs for Cerelle Lannister. Different options are laid out in front of you as you drag your tray alongside Jace’s. He’s still moping-- has been all morning. Sara rolls her eyes at him as he drops a banana onto his plate.

“You need to chill,” she tells him, reaching for a turkey club. 

“How do I come back from this?” Jace asks, reaching for a cup. He moves to the soda machine, choosing to fill it with cherry coke, “She wants me dead.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you tell him, fighting a smile.

“I’m serious!” he says, eyes wide, “She could make or break my entire career based on this slip-up, put me in the pit for the year.”

You decide on a chicken Caesar wrap before scanning the cafeteria for a free table. You spot Nettles a few tables away, leaning back in her chair and munching on a bag of potato chips. She waves you over and you motion to your colleagues to follow. 

“So you’ll do the time, pay your dues, all that jazz,” you console Jace.

“Yeah, but--shit!” Jace yelps as you reach the table, his cup falling to the floor. Reddish brown liquid blooms on the white floor and Jace groans, “This day keeps getting worse.”

“C’mon, let’s get some paper towels,” Sara says, putting her tray down and grabbing Jace’s arm.

Nettles watches them walk away, unmoving from her spot as you take the seat beside her. 

“What a drama queen,” Nettles comments.

“I mean, if I pissed off Ballbuster Baratheon, I’d be pretty upset too,” you tell her, giving a sympathetic smile.

“You’re too smart to make that mistake,” Nettles comments, and a pleasant prideful feeling lodges in your chest. 

You smile at her.

“Thanks,” you tell Nettles and she shrugs.

“Just being truthful,” she says, “I briefed everyone before we started. You’re rather impressive.”

“You briefed everyone?”

“I like to know who I’ll be working with,” she says nonchalantly. 

You nod, impressed by her dedication. You take a bite of your wrap, wincing slightly at the soggy texture of the lettuce. It’s edible. You doubt you’ll have anything to complain about when the hospital is working you into the ground. Your eyes scan the cafeteria as you chew, taking in the other doctors in the cafeteria. 

Your eyes drift over to a pair of residents near the vending machine; a man and a woman both with strikingly platinum blonde hair. The taller of the two has it pulled away from his chiseled face and into a low bun. As he turns your heart drops into your stomach. 

“Shit,” you whisper, feeling the blood drain from your face. 

“What?” Nettles asks, examining her half-eaten sandwich, “I mean it's bad, but not that bad. They have hot dogs on Fridays.”

“Not the food,” you explain, “The doctor.” 

Nettles follows your gaze toward Aemond as he’s lost in conversation with the other resident. Her eyes flicker between you two, eyebrows raising to her hairline. 

“You know him?”

“Know who?” Cory asks as she arrives, sitting in the empty chair beside you, “This food looks nasty…”

“I need to go,” you tell them, standing with your tray, “I need to--” It’s too late when you realize you’d stepped right into the spilled soda, your feet going out from under you.

You drop onto your back with a loud thud, head smacking against the linoleum floor.

“Fuck! Are you okay?” Nettles asks, crouching beside you. You blink rapidly, stars in your vision from the impact, “Shit, Y/N you’re bleeding don’t move! Head injury, you could have internal bleeding-”

“I’m okay,” you insist, trying to sit up, “I’m just….woah.” A wave of nausea rolls through you and you lean back against the ground, “Maybe I do just need a moment.”

Your vision blurs but you can see his lean silhouette in the distance. Through your haze, you swear you see his body language change, his posture stiffen, and your lunch lurches in your stomach. 

“You’re concussed,” Jace insists crouching beside you, “Don’t move. You’ve cut your head too…”

“My head?” you ask, bringing a hand to your temple, feeling wetness on your palm, “Fucking hell.”

You’re staring blankly at the ceiling, mortification settling in your bones as your colleagues chatter around you. 

“What is going on?” Dr. Baratheon’s voice echoes through the cafeteria, “Y/L/N?”

“Yes Dr. B?” you mumble, earning a chuckle from Cory.

“I’m going to let that one slide because you’re likely concussed,” Dr. Baratheon says, “Velaryon, Waters, get her to a bed.” She grumbles, moving on with Cory and Nettles, “I’d like to keep my interns in one piece please.”

The night before the first day of your internship you couldn’t sleep. Call it nerves, call it excitement, one thing was for sure; there was no way you were finding sleep at a reasonable hour. So you decided to grab a drink. Something to calm your nerves. 

Just a few blocks from your studio apartment was a small hole-in-the-wall bar, the Dragon’s Den. One drink to calm your nerves, that’s all you needed. You’d sat at the bar alone for a while, sipping your wine and reading yet another smutty romance on your Kindle.

You’d noticed him come in, of course. It was hard not to notice him. 

He was truly beautiful; with striking platinum hair braided away from his face and down his back. Chiseled jawline, long straight nose, and those eyes. One violet, one blue, watching you from across the room. Your cheeks warmed as you buried your nose back into your book.

He’d caught you staring. 

He’d joined you at the bar; slightly awkward, but confident enough to strike up a conversation with you. Ask what you were drinking. He was so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body, and count the veins winding their way up the back of his hands.

“You’re a long way from Riverlands,” you’d commented as he’d told you where he was from.

“My sister dragged me out,” he’d told you, “I’ve just recently moved back here, to be closer to family.”

“I have a new job starting tomorrow,” you’d told him, causing him to raise an eyebrow at you.

“Congratulations,” he’d said, smiling as though he genuinely was happy for the stranger he met at the bar.

He’d bought you a drink, saddled up next to you. Listened intently as you spoke to him about your hobbies, your interests. Watching you the entire time with intense focus. 

“I don’t normally do this,” he’d insisted as you pulled him towards you outside the bar.

“Me either,” you agreed. It didn’t matter if it was true or not; it's what people say when they make reckless decisions. 

Fingers fisting into his button-down shirt, you’d pressed your lips eagerly against his. You hadn’t been kissed like this in forever. Hadn’t been touched like this, been fucked like this. 

You’d brought him home, walking the short distance hand in hand taking breaks in between for him to press you against the brick walls of the buildings you passed, let you wrap your legs around his waist as he kissed the life out of you. 

You’d stumbled into your apartment desperately peeling the clothes from your body and his. Greedy hands, greedy mouths, and lipstick smeared across his cheeks and chest. Fingers, tongue, a combination of the two, and then his cock splitting you in half, pounding you into the mattress. 

He’d made you cum five times. 

Five times, during a one-night stand. You could barely feel your legs as you drifted off to sleep. 

You’d woken early the following day, stumbling out of bed and into your small kitchenette as the lanky stranger gathered his things. 

“Aemond,” he’d told you, with a shy grin as he entered his number into your phone.

How anyone could be shy after that bedroom performance was beyond you. 

“I’ll text you,” you’d promised him, as he opened the door.

“Have a great first day.”

Somehow, Jace and Sara get you to a bed, secluded with some curtains. You can’t believe he’s here. He’s a resident. In every hospital possible, it had to be this one. By the looks of it, he wasn’t expecting to see you as well.

The curtain opens and an attending enters the small bedside area, flipping through the papers on his clipboard. Dark hair and eyes he glances up at you, a small smile on his lips. 

“Not every day an intern lands in a hospital bed,” he comments, ushering you forward. 

You sit up, groaning slightly at the throbbing in your head. 

“Didn’t do it on purpose,” you grumble, and he flashes you a grin. 

“Follow the light,” he softly commands, clicking his penlight and moving it in front of your face.

You blink, but obey; following the bright light. 

“Good,” he murmurs, “Now follow my finger.” He does the same motion with his finger, “Pupils look good, any pain?”

“Just where I hit,” you tell him, “Will I need stitches?”

“Just a few,” he says, bringing a gloved hand to move your hair, “A small split. Bleeds a lot more than it's worth.”

“Not my first rodeo,” you tell him, as he reaches for some gauze, “You’re the neuro attending?”

“One of them,” he comments, applying some dap gauze to your wound, cleaning it gently, “I’m Dr. Cole.” 

You tell him yours and he nods, a glimmer of recognition in his eye. 

“I read your resume,” he muses, discarding the bloodied gauze, “Your thesis was very interesting.”

“Thank you,” you told him, remembering your research, “I enjoy research a lot.”

“Plenty of opportunities here,” he says, removing his gloves, “I’ll have Dr. Targareyn come stitch you up.”

Your heart leaps into your throat, “Can’t I just use some butterfly bandages?”

He shakes his head, pursing his lips.

“Don’t want to scar up that pretty face,” he comments, “Targaryen doesn’t mind, he enjoys the practice.” 

You chew on your lip as Dr. Cole leaves the room. Several moments later the curtain opens and Aemond steps forward. He’s just as beautiful as last night and your pulse quickens remembering your time spent together. 

“Hey,” you manage as Aemond clears his throat. 

Aemond stands awkwardly stiff, before moving to the stool Dr. Cole previously occupied. He doesn’t speak, just uses his long legs to pull himself closer to you. He readies a tray, grabbing a suture kit and lidocaine. You watch his tense, calculated movements before he turns to you. 

“This may sting,” he murmurs, as the tip of the needle enters your skin causing you to wince. 

The lidocaine works fast, and the area begins to tingle with numbness. Carefully disposing of the needle, Aemond grabs the suture and begins his work. You can feel his hands on you, and watch his face as he stares at his handiwork. 

He won’t meet your eyes. 

“We didn’t know,” you tell him, feeling the tugging of the sutures, “Aemond-”

“No,” he answers, “You’re right of course. No harm, no foul. But this can’t happen again. I’m your superior.”

“Superior? It’s not like you’re an attending,” you tell him. 

“No but I’m in a position of power and authority over you,” he continues, “The implications of a workplace relationship between the two of us would be an uneven distribution of power.”

“Okay, we slept together once,” you tell him, “No one’s saying we’re in a relationship-”

“Then you agree,” he counters, “We shut this down before it really starts.”

That’s not exactly what you were thinking as you reminisce about the previous night. Staring into his eyes only makes your cheeks grow hotter, a nervous sweat begins to form on your brow. 

“Is that what you want?” you ask, your heartbeat suddenly noticeable; a gentle flutter against your ribcage.

“It’s not about want,” Aemond insists, avoiding your gaze and focusing solely on his suturing, “It’s about being dutiful, and doing what’s right. What’s expected of us.”

Goodbye guy in the bar, you think to yourself, heart sinking slightly at the thought.

“Yeah, sure,” you tell him as he cuts the final stitch, “I’m not going to say anything.”

“You’re all set,” he tells you, moving to stand, “Think you can take them out on your own in a week?”

“If not, I know where to find you,” you quip.

Aemond stands next to the tray of instruments, freezing as he awkwardly glances at you sideways. His posture is tense. You let out a nervous breath at his startled reaction. The sex god you met last night is nowhere to be found. He flexes his hand before shoving it into the pocket of his white coat. 

“That was a joke,” you tell him, earning a curt nod, “One week. Got it.”

You hear the sharp voice of Dr. Baratheon call your last name before the curtain is yanked back. Her eyes find Aemond immediately, lips forming a tight pout.

“Dr. Targareyn,” she says apprehensively, as though she’s watching him very carefully. 

Aemond nods acknowledging her before she turns to you.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“I’m fine,” you assure her, “I have to run those labs for Cerelle Lannister-”

“Martell is covering that,” Dr. Baratheon cuts you off, “You have a head injury. I want you home for the remainder of the day.”

“Dr. Baratheon-” you insist, but she holds up her hand.

“Come back tomorrow,” Dr. Baratheon tells you and reluctantly nods. 

You suppose going home isn’t the worst idea. 

“Let’s get you an Uber,” Dr. Baratheon says.

“I can drive her,” Aemond says suddenly. His eyes are wide before he casts his gaze to the floor as if he can’t believe the words left his mouth.

You watch him carefully.

“Okay,” you tell him. 

Aemond’s car is nice. Clean, like he just bought it. He very well might have, now that you think of it since he moved to the area so recently. The ride is silent besides the sound of the air coming through the vents. 

“Thank you,” you tell him, as he pulls up to your apartment complex.

“No drinking any alcohol,” Aemond says, still not meeting your eyes, “Make sure to get plenty of rest and monitor your symptoms. Do not feel any pressure to come back to work tomorrow if you’re not up for it.”

You nod and his gaze flickers to your face. He wets his lips, tongue darting out quickly. It might be the concussion, but you can remember how it felt. How he tasted. Fuck. 

“I got it,” you assure him, unbuckling your seatbelt.

He nods, unlocking the car doors before getting out. Aemond walks around the front of the car, opening the door for you.

“I’ll walk you up,” he insists, and you nod, taking the hand he offers. 

He remembers your unit. The entire elevator ride is full of tension as you wait to reach your floor. As you walk down the hallway. As you get to your door.

You turn to him, wanting to invite him inside if only for a cup of tea to thank him for being so kind. If only to keep him near your longer. 

But Aemond nods curtly as you unlock the door.

“Have a nice day, Dr. Y/L/N,” he says, turning on his heel and heading down the hallway. You watch him flex his fingers again, before shoving them into his pocket. 

“Goodbye Aemond,” you call, and he pauses, hand outstretched to press the elevator button.

His head dips for a brief moment before he straightens up as the elevator doors open and he disappears inside. Your heart hammers as he turns, giving you a nod once more, before the doors close obscuring him from your view. 

You exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Before tucking yourself into your bed, you lean against your window which gives a view down to the front of the apartment. Clouds have gathered and fat drops of rain begin to fall, splashing onto Aemond’s car still parked below. You watch as the lights come on, but he stays idling a moment more.

Your phone vibrates. 

Reaching for it you can’t help but smile as you see the message.

note: hope you liked it!! again, thank you thank you THANK YOU for all the love and support for my silly little stories, y'all are seriously the best for real 🥹

Series Taglist: @witches-of-discovery-a @mooncalvin @rwdkarla, @spinachtz, @arcielee, @castellomargot, @bellaisasleep, @wintrr13, @angel6776, @watercolorskyy @hogwarts1207, @gibbsgirl7, @high-on-darren-criss, @theshatteredideal, @elizarbell, @hiraethrhapsody, @helaenaluvr

[bbmsxlene]

#🎸 - “CRUSH”

a lil happy chapter since the last ones were messy😞

I IMAGINE MAKI TO SPEAK W PERFECT GRAMMAR BUT I CANT MAKE HER BC ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE😞😞💔💔

sukuna sukuna siukuna sukaunasukaunaskjka

I LOVE SATORU IRONICALLY FLIRTING W GETO😭😭

yall better prepare for next chapter. it’s going to be abt sukuna and yn old relationship

m.list - next

taglist: @sad-darksoul @i-simp-for-giyuu @bbladie @inosfavgf @sweetteez @lunasolac @enaxsq @tvdumarvelhpsimp @nyxlai @lysaray @nnnyxie @lomlspidey @b4tm4nn @hvnyacoded @satcrvz @swissy23 @nahoye @h3xi2g0n3 @simpingsohard @xavlyzn @valentoru @bakugohoex @crowsaysstuff @arysbruv @r0ckst4rjk @lilsillycat @spltbtch @rixo-19 @sereniteav @0range-juiceee @kaleidoscopekai

[norrizzandpia]

The Youngest Love (Chapter One of What We Could’ve Been and What We Are Now) (LN4)

Summary: A backstory to a love story.

Warnings: none, fluff

Note: this one is not that eventful bc I didn’t want to leave yall on a major cliffhanger or anything like that seeing as i am entering into my official finals week and definitely will not have time to post updates for this or anything else i hope you like it tho! And will stick around for the next chapters 🫶🏻

Series Links: Masterlist, Chapter Links, and the Playlist

“Oh, hey! I got the job!” Jon smiles from across the dinner table, his sparkling eyes meeting his wife’s and daughter’s. One hand holds his phone while the other still clutches his fork, his food getting colder by the second as he stares at the bright screen.

Amy, his wife, lets her eyebrows cinch together, “You mean the one with the Formula 3 kid?”

Jon nods, “Yeah, exactly! He’s 16, I think? Right around your age, Y/n.”

His daughter, Y/n, smiles with a closed mouth, her broccoli still being chewed on.

There’s a silence as Jon types out a message in response, his teeth shining under the low light of the kitchen while he grins at his new opportunity. There’s few things in the world that truly warm Y/n’s heart, her dad truly happy is one of them.

Amy applauds softly, a giggle emitting from her as she looks between her family, “When do you start?”

Jon draws out an ominous sound as his eyes squint to read his phone carefully, “Oh? Tomorrow, I guess.”

Amy stops chewing, “But, you said you’d take Y/n to the library tomorrow. Remember? She needs that textbook for her upcoming term.”

Jon’s mouth falls open and he nods in recognition, “Oh, sorry! Is it okay if she comes along? The library is on the way to the facility where I'll be training and really getting to know the boy. We can grab her book and then she can hang out while I’m working with him.”

Amy looks at her daughter, “You okay with that, Y/n?”

Y/n lets her head float to each side as she thinks it through, “No other alternative?”

Jon shakes his head, Amy shrugs her shoulders.

Huffing, Y/n agrees, “What’s his name?”

Jon smiles, “Lando.”

🏎️

Y/n inspects her new textbook as Jon leads her through the doors of the building. There’s loud commotion and chatter from every corner, but she’s so engrossed in trying to fix the tear in the back of her used book, that she’s not aware of any of it.

Jon mumbles to the reception, a conversation flourishing between them as he tries to sort out where he’s supposed to go. Still, Y/n smoothies down the flap that has ruined the state of her book. There’s a deep frown on her face as her dad begins to walk away, her footsteps falling in rhythm behind him.

When they enter the room, she’s lost hope for the cut and her eyes are finally returning to what’s in front of her.

Her dad speaks cordially with an older man toward the end of the room, leaving her in the presence of the boy her dad had mentioned the night before.

“You’re Lando, right?” She says softly, not truly comfortable being the one to speak first.

Lando smiles, “Yeah. What’s your name?”

She mimics his face, “Y/n. I’m Jon’s daughter.”

He nods, “Cool. Will you be around for the rest of the session today?”

“Yeah, I don’t have a ride anywhere else.” She chuckles, Lando joining her.

When their laughter dies down, Lando extends his hand in front of himself and speaks, “It’s nice to meet you, Jon’s daughter.”

She shakes his hand, “Nice to meet you, as well, my dad’s new client.”

🏎️

“Can I come along too?” Y/n pleads as Jon stands at the front door.

He frowns at her, “Y/n, the last times you came, you and Lando wouldn’t stop laughing. It distracts him. It stops the work we need to do to get him prepared for the season.”

His daughter groans obnoxiously, “Dad! I promise, it won’t happen this time.”

He squints at her, “You said that last time.”

She shakes her head, “Please?”

This time, it’s Jon who’s groaning, “Fine.”

🏎️

TWO YEARS LATER

“Yeah, and I never stopped coming after that. My dad stopped trying to fight it, I guess.” Y/n laughs into Lando’s side, her head bumping into his shoulder.

Lando smiles down at her, “I know! He just accepted it. I mean, it wasn’t like you were the only one trying to get him to bring you back to our sessions.”

Y/n’s head shoots up, tilting in confusion, “What do you mean? You were too?”

Lando nods eagerly, “Yeah, of course! I kept texting him asking if you were coming that day.”

“Yeah, it was annoying.” Jon’s voice cuts through the two’s incessant giggling. Their faces staring at him as he walks over to Lando and grabs hold of his sweatshirt sleeve.

Jon smiles down at them with pursed lips, “And look at you now, my lovely daughter! Still distracting him from his training! Making my life harder!”

Y/n smacks her dad’s arm as he pulls Lando from his chair, “Dad! Rude!”

He chuckles, placing a kiss on her forehead, “You know, I joke.”

Her cheeks warm at him, “I know.”

“But, for now!” He yelps, startling the two teens with his volume, “Let me train Lando. Stay here.”

Lando scoffs, “She makes it so much more fun, though! Jon, you are a buzzkill.”

Jon perseveres, pulling Lando out of the room, “Thank me when you’re a World Champion.”

Lando, just before his body disappears from the door, yells out to his best friend, “Meet me after! For Lunch, Y/n! You know where!”

She shakes her head as he is dragged out. She laughs as she hears his yelps to Jon down the hall, apparently her father was being too rough with him.

Lunch would be interesting.

🏎️

Lando’s head pulls to the side as Jon pulls the strap attached to Lando’s head towards himself.

“When are you going to ask my daughter out?” Jon says, quickly, a knowing smirk on his face as Lando’s eyes fall open and he leaps from his seat.

“Woah!” Lando looks manically at Jon, his mouth opening and closing at the question.

Jon takes the strap off Lando’s head, scoffing and thrashing his arms at his side, “Lando, we’ve had this conversation multiple times. Don’t act surprised.”

Lando huffs and brings his arms to cross in front of him, “Not multiple times.”

Jon slowly turns around, looking at him blankly, “Yes, we have. Don’t lie. We’ve been having this conversation ever since I started training you.”

The boy rolls his eyes and groans, “Get off my back.”

“Lando, you’ve had a crush on my daughter ever since she greeted you the first day we met. Be honest here. How much longer are you going to wait?” Jon sits down on a machine nearby. His face has hardened and he looks on at Lando with a serious expression, one that both scares and pushes Lando to do what he’s wanted to do for years.

He mirrors Jon’s stance, relaxing into a seated position as he tries to sort his thoughts, “I didn’t think I ever would.”

Jon throws his hands in the air, “Well, that won’t ever do.”

A silence overcomes them, Lando wondering when he’s supposed to put his friendship in jeopardy, when Jon’s face lights up, “The lunch! You guys are going to lunch after this, right? Ask her then.”

Lando shakes his head, “Are you crazy?! That’s too soon! I need to have time to prepare!”

Jon leans on his knees, “Prepare what? Just ask her the question!”

Lando stutters out his thoughts, “I don’t know, I just want to give her something grand. Do you understand?”

Jon nods, “I do, but I don’t agree. Y/n doesn’t want that. She just wants you to take her out to dinner, Lando. You’re over complicating it.”

Lando takes a deep breath, attempts to clear his mind, and maybe he is over complicating it?

🏎️

His hands shake as he sits down across from Y/n at the table. She’s smiling at him, a sweet grin that has his heart fluttering, when her face falls softly, “Are you okay, Lan?”

He nods aggressively, “Yeah! Yeah! Totally cool!”

She cocks her head and lays her hand over his on the table, adding to the bursting in Lando’s stomach, “What’s going on? You look like you’re going to vomit.”

He shakes his head, a beating finding its home in his brain and he blurts, “Will you go out with me?”

She stares at him for a moment. A moment, a split second, where Lando thinks he’s lost it all, but then she breaks out into the biggest smile he’d ever seen grace her face and begins laughing, “Really? Yes, Lan!”

Air fills his lungs once more and he moves his hand to clutch hers, “Oh, thank God.”

He falls into lovesick giggles with her and the two struggle to get through ordering their food with the way they stare into each other’s eyes.

When their food comes, Y/n looks at him, “Couldn’t this be our date?”

He bites his lip in deep thought before nodding in agreement, “Yeah, actually, that makes a lot of sense.”

She ducks her head, getting closer to Lando and whispers, “Can I tell you something?”

He moves his head just as close, “Always.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that ever since I introduced myself to you.” She smiles, her hand finding his once more and squeezing lightly.

“Can I tell you something?” He says all the same.

She nods and he confides, “Jon’s been nagging at me for years to ask you out. He pushed me over the edge today.”

Y/n rears back, “Jon?! My father?! A matchmaker?!”

Lando nods in astonishment, “I know! Especially with his daughter?! Scandalous!”

Y/n shakes her head as she chuckles before looking back up at Lando and saying, “I’m glad he did.”

Lando smiles at her, “Me too.”

They stare at each other for a moment more, the two growing slightly shy under the new view of their relationship and turning away. His deep green eyes are addicting to Y/n and, by the way he’d pined over her for years, she believes she’s just as addicting to him.

A blush rises to her cheeks.

[pandorascrush]

HUNTING YOU

HI EVERYONE! This is actually my first attempt at writing smut. So please please please let me know what yall think.

ALL WORK IS MY ORIGINAL WORK!!!

CHAPTER ONE : PREY

SUMMARY: The reader is a part of the Metkayina clan. She couldn't help herself as she watched and wanted Neytiri and Jake. Maybe it was because they were the first forest people she had ever seen. But she wanted them like a hunter wants its prey. Little did she know that they had also wanted her and were willing to hunt her if that was the only way they could have her.

 WARNINGS: nsfw(18+), smut, minors dni, clit play, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, avatar/na'vi!jake, dilf!jake, fem!bodied reader, metkayina!reader, creampie, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dry humping, pet names (babygirl, dirty girl), poly relationship

PAIRING: jake sully x neytiri, jake sully x reader, neytiri x reader

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At first it had started out as a small tease between him and Neytiri. He had made a comments of your beauty and your welcoming eyes. He always refrained from making further comments.But today he couldn't help himself but mention how out of all the Metkayina women, you had been the curviest. The only reason he even mentioned it was in order to try and crack out a smile from Neytiri. He was fully expecting a hiss from Neytiri's lips but what she said next surprised him like nothing else had.

“Yes she is, her hips are fuller than the other women,as if she’s had a babe. She is better suited to carry one. Her frame is strong and legs sturdy. She would be a good mate.” All Jake could do was stare at her in disbelief.

“Neytiri, I was just joking.” Jake said in shock and disbelief. He fully prepared himself from a smack upside the head at his comment. Especially because he said it infront of his mate. 

“I am not, I have been watching her since we arrived. She has been the kindest to us and the children.”

Neytiri was surprised at the words that came out of her mouth. She had no idea what came over her but she could hide it no longer. Yes she had a mate and loved him with all her heart, but she could not deny the beauty she saw in you. She had been observing you for quite some time. Like a predator stalking its prey. Maybe it was the instincts she developed from her younger years after being a hunter, but she couldn't help it. She liked what she saw. And so did Jake.

“Ma Jake, do not be offended by my words. She is a beautiful woman and I cannot help myself. I love you more than myself but I find myself wanting her, needing her, hunting her like a predator to its prey.” She felt relieved to finally get it off her chest.

The truth is she found herself staring at you more than she would like to admit. Ever since arriving at the reef she has felt like an outsider. An outsider because she simply could not adapt as quickly as the rest of her family had. She found herself drawn to you the moment she saw you.

When you would visit their mauri she would find herself entranced by your voice. The way your lips moved and the curve of your mouth. The way your eyes shone with the reflection of the sun. And the movement of your chest and you breathed. She couldn't help herself. She was drawn to you. She wanted you. And now with Jake's words she found like a weight has lifted off her chest. Her mate felt the same.

Jake had noticed you almost immediately around the same time Neytiri had. He couldn't help himself from staring at the sway of your hips. The fullness of your breast, and the curves he noticed underneath your top. But what truly captivated him was the curve of your lips and the roundness of your eyes and how they showed your innocence. The moment he noticed that it was like a light switch went off in his mind. Afterall he had developed the mind of a hunter. He was a predator and he wanted you to be his prey. 

“Neytiri, tell me, have you thought about her?” He asked her still with doubt in his mind. Neytiri couldn't help but walk in front of him grabbing his waist and pulling him towards her. Chest to chest.

“Yes Ma Jake. I see her the same as you see her. I can't keep it at bay any longer.” By this point they had their foreheads pressed to one another, breathing into one another. Neytiri grabbed her braid and he did the same grabbing his. They hugged one another and connected their queues and that's when they felt it. 

They wanted you. They needed you, between them, under them, and over them. They wanted you psychically and mentally. And that’s when they made you their next mission. They were making you their prey. And you would be theirs.

They couldn't help themselves and slammed their lips together. Their want overcoming them.No matter how long they've been mated for, every time they connected their queues it was exhilarating and overwhelming as if it was the first time.

“Ma Jake I need you.” Neytiri couldn't help but push out in between gasps. With this Jake grabbed her and laid her on the ground pulling himself on top of her letting his weight on her.

“I need you too, baby girl.” He said as he gripped her hips and grinded his own hips into hers. He let his finger slip down to her loincloth, slipping them between her lips at the same time as Neytiri clung onto him by the shoulders and let out a hiss at the newfound friction on her clit.

“You're already wet, my dirty girl. Is this because of me or because all you think about is being in between y/n’s legs?” 

“For you both ma jake.” She couldn't help but let out in between gasps. She grinded her hips against his fingers practically humping into his hand. Her wetness trickinging down his hand, and she went to grab his cock. She started pumping him between her hand practically tugging him to her entrance. 

Jake took this as a sign and quickly tore his loin cloth off and discarded hers as well. He leaned down to kiss her in an attempt to battle for dominance over the kiss and he lined himself up to her cunt. In one swift and powerful thrust he was inside her.

“Yes! Right there, please don't stop.” She practically cried out as she dug her nails into his shoulders and brought her leg on his hip. Jake grabbed her other leg and threw it over his shoulder.

“I should have known you wanted her.” He let out between grunts as Neytiri bit onto his shoulder in an attempt to contain her moans.

“I want her, Jake. I want you both at the same time.” She couldn't help but say in between moans. The way she was clenching around him was making Jake close to cumming. He grabbed her other leg and threw it over his other shoulder. He had her sandwiched under him and started hammering into her, thrusting even deeper than before at this angle.

“She will be ours, my love. ILL. MAKE. SURE. OF .IT.” He said, emphasizing each word with a hard thrust. He reached down to her clit and rubbed hard yet with intent.

“Ma jake, MA JAKE! I'M CUMMING!” Neytiri practically yelled. With this he thrusted into her and rubbed her clit simultaneously. Jake came with a loud groan into Neytiri and Neytiri came around his cock biting down on her lip. He lazily kept thrusting until he cum was leaking out of Neytiri. Slowly he stopped his thrusts but stayed deep inside of Neytiri.

“We have to make her ours.” Neytiri said softly yet with determination as she lightly caressed his face pulling him into a deep kiss.

“She will be ours, my love.” Jake promised to her in between the kiss and stared into her beautiful eyes.

“Even if we have to hunt her down.” He said softly as he laid his head on Neytiri’s chest, still refusing to pull out of her warmth. With that promise they slowly drifted off to sleep in their mauri.

But what they didn't know was that you had been outside their mauri listening to everything. You pulled your left hand from your lips that had been covering your mouth, and your right hand from underneath your loincloth. That was the hardest you had ever came. They wanted to hunt you and make you their prey? Let’s see who becomes whose prey first then. After all, you were a hunter yourself. And you were determined to make them yours.

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AHHH!!!! Okay that was my first ever attempt at writing smut and let me tell you, not as easy as it seems. But yes this is most likely going to be a mini series. Get ready to see the reader fight for dominance against Jake and Neytiri. And just to reiterate this WILL be a poly couple. So all three will be in a relationship. Can’t wait for yall’s feedback and to write some more. Things are gonna get heated yall! TOODLES <3

[tonyspank]

CHAPTER SEVEN | GET ME

Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, even more cheating, jacob, and i think that's all

Words: 4.1k

A/N: i dont know what to say

series masterlist | main masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

You toss Eli the Gatorade, sitting down on the bench behind you. He catches it with one hand and takes a swig, savoring the taste. He looks at you and immediately notices the anger on your face.

He raises an eyebrow and says "What's wrong?" You take a deep breath, "Jenna's dickhead husband is what's wrong."

Eli looks concerned. "What did he do?" he asks. "He's staying at my house. For an entire week," you reply, your voice full of rage. Eli stares at you for a moment, contemplating the situation. "Your parents were fine with this?" he asks, and you nod in response, putting your shoes on.

Eli shakes his head and lets out a deep sigh. "I don't know what to say. How do you feel?" You look up at him, your jaw clenched, and say, "I feel upset. A part of me is upset that Jenna is so okay with living this double life, and the other part of me is upset that Jacob thinks he can run in and out of her life whenever he wants."

Eli puts a hand on your shoulder and says, "I understand. It's not easy to accept, but you gotta understand. That's her husband, they have depth and you guys only shared a kiss."

You stare at him in response and his face begins to change, "Oh my god. No—y'all... YALL HAD SEX?" You turn away from him, your face burning with embarrassment.

You can feel his gaze on you and finally, he speaks. "I don't know what's happening... Mr. Stark. I don't feel so good." He jokes, repeating Peter Parker's lines from Infinity War.

He then drops to the ground, reaching out for you. You try to hold back a laugh as he grabs your hand, shaking his body. "Cooper! Off the ground!" Your coach yells.

You help Eli up and he sheepishly apologizes to the coach. The coach gives him a stern warning and then turns to you with a smile, patting you on the shoulder. "Anyway... I don't know if I should feel proud or upset."

You just smile and shrug, handing Eli his Gatorade. Eli gives you a grateful smile, "Can you come to my place tonight? Jacob made a stupid group chat with the three of us saying he's preparing dinner."

Eli nods in agreement, "Sure, what time?" You respond, "6 PM." He gives you a nod and you pat his back, heading to your team's huddle up.

"It smells like sex in here," Eli says as you hold the front door open for him. "Shut the fuck up." It didn't even smell like sex, it smelled like some sort of meat cooking. You give him a stern look and he apologizes, but you can tell he's still trying to contain his laughter.

You step inside the house and the smell is even stronger. You realize it's coming from the kitchen and dread the thought of what Jacob has been cooking.

You make your way to the kitchen and find Jacob standing in front of the stove. He turns around with a wide grin on his face and says, "Hey! You're home!"

His eyes move to Eli, "And you've bought a friend... nice." Jacob takes a step forward and motions for Eli to come closer. He extends a hand, "It's nice to meet you. I'm Jacob. What's your name?"

You can sense the fake smile on Eli's face. "I'm Eli." He says, roughly shaking Jacob's hand. Jacob winces quietly, letting go of your best friend's hand and mumbling, "You kids and your tight grip." Eli just grins, a little too toothy. Jacob then pats Eli's shoulder and says, "It's alright, mate. No hard feelings."

Jenna walks into the kitchen and you swear you could see her face light up when you two lock eyes. "Hi, Eli. Hey, Y/N." You smile at the shorter girl, bringing her into a hug. She wraps her arms around your neck, and you can feel the tension in her body relaxing. Yeah, fuck you, Jacob.

She steps back, her hands on your shoulders. "How was practice?" You smile and shrug, glad that she seemed genuinely happy to see you. "It was fine. I'm going to take a quick shower before dinner."

She nods and smiles. "Okay, let me take your bag." She says, motioning to the gym back on your shoulder. You graciously accept and hand her the bag. She takes it and steps away, heading upstairs and you follow behind leaving Eli and Jacob alone in the kitchen.

"Doesn't it seem like she likes her?" Jacobs says to Eli, turning around slightly from the stove. Eli shrugs, not wanting to make any assumptions. Jacob just laughs and shakes his head, turning back to the stove and starting to stir the food.

Jenna sets your bag down in your room and you smile at her, "Thanks. You didn't—" She brings you into a passionate kiss, her hands gripping your hoodie tightly. You break away, your heart racing. She grins and says, "I know. I just wanted a kiss." She leans in for one last kiss before walking out of the room.

You stand there, stunned, for a moment before finally processing what just happened. You can't help but smile as you watch her walk away. You shake your head and sigh, feeling the butterflies in your stomach.

You came back downstairs after taking your shower and the dining room table was already set. You glance at the plates confused. "Chicken?" Jacob nods from his seat, already with a fork in his hand. You laugh sarcastically, "Jenna doesn't eat chicken, remember? She's pescatarian."

Jacob groans, "Oh yeah, I forgot." He glances at Jenna who's eating her salad quietly, "I didn't know you were still doing that diet thing." Jenna rolls her eyes, "It's not a diet thing, it's a lifestyle choice." She takes a bite of her salad and continues, "It's not that hard to remember." Jacob apologizes letting out a sigh. "Well, you still have your salad."

You sit down beside Eli, shaking your head in disbelief. Eli glances between the three of you before leaning into your ear. "Just say the word and we can jump him." He jokes a jolly smile on his face.

Your face breaks out into a smile as you start cutting up your chicken. Jacob clears his throat, "So, uh... Y/N." You look up from your plate at look at the bearded man in front of you. "You play basketball?"

You nod and set your knife and fork down. "Yeah, I've been playing since I was a kid. Why do you ask?" Jacob's face is unreadable as he replies, "Just curious."

Jenna takes a sip of her wine while watching the exchange between you two. Jacob stares at you for a moment before he nods. "Interesting," he says before turning back to his dinner. Jenna takes another sip of her wine, wondering if she should break the awkward silence or just keep drinking.

"How's Emma doing?" Eli asks, breaking the silence. Jenna smiles, relieved that the tension has been broken. "She's doing great," she answers. "She was just asking me about you, actually."

A huge grin appears on Eli's face, "Oh, really?" Jenna laughs, nodding her head. "Yes, she's been asking about you a lot lately. I think she misses you." Eli's smile grows wider as he looks away, feeling happier than ever. You breathe out a laugh.

"Wait you still talk to Emma?" Jacob says, finishing a bite of his chicken. Jenna nods, "Yeah...she's a good friend." He scoffs in response, "No, no she's not. She doesn't know her place." Jenna looks back at Jacob, her face growing stern. "You don't get to decide who my friends are," she says. "Just because you don't like her doesn't mean I can't."

"I don't like her because she keeps telling my wife—" You interrupt him, "Fiancée." Jacob stares at you and Jenna for a few moments, before turning away. He mutters something under his breath before speaking again. "Fiancée. About leaving me."

"Maybe because you're a bad fiancée," Eli says, his mouth half full of food. Jacob's face turns red and he opens his mouth to respond, but before he can say anything Eli interrupts him. "I mean she wouldn't be telling Jenna to leave you if Jenna was truly happy, right?"

Jacob stares at the table, clearly frustrated. Jacob clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath before slowly standing up. He pushes in his chair and looks at Eli, his eyes narrowed. Without a word, he turns and walks out of the room.

Eli watches him go, a smile creeping up on his face as he looks at you. You watch Jacob go, feeling a slight sense of relief. Eli's smile widens as he sees your reaction while Jenna slowly stands up and follows Jacob out of the room. Eli's eyes twinkle as he looks back at you, a mischievous glint in them.

"Am I not the biggest drama starter or what?" You chuckle, shaking your head. "Yes, yes you are." You say, smiling back. He grins, satisfied, and you can't help but admire his ability to lighten up the situation.

"Jacob, wait," Jenna calls out after the man stomping up the steps. He makes it to the guest room, turning around to face her. "You just fucking embarrassed me."

He stares at her, his face a mask of anger. Jenna's eyebrows furrow in confusion, "You embarrassed yourself! You're the one who treats me like shit."

Jacob steps forward, his fists clenched. Jenna takes a step back, her heart pounding. He stares at her for a moment until his phone starts ringing. He glances at the phone and takes a deep breath.

He steps back and turns away from her. "We'll talk about this later," he says, before grabbing the phone off the nightstand and answering it.

Jenna exhales in relief, her heart still pounding. She watches as Jacob walks away, still on the phone. She takes a few moments to gather her thoughts before leaving the room. Jenna takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, trying to steady her nerves.

She takes a few moments to gather her thoughts before leaving the room. Jenna takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, trying to steady her nerves.

Two hours have passed and Jenna is downstairs, sipping on a glass of wine. She can feel the tension in her body start to ease, and her mind starts to clear. What are you doing now? Jacob out of her mind and you in it, along with a glass of wine...she was starting to feel horny.

Jenna got up from her chair and started to make her way to your bedroom. She was starting to untie her robe, walking closer and closer to your bedroom door before opening it and locking it behind her.

You rise from your bed, taking Jenna in. She smiled and walked towards you, her robe falling to the ground as she climbed into your bed.

You pulled her close, and ran your fingers through her hair, kissing her deeply, feeling her warmth and desire. She returned the kiss, her body pressing against yours. You felt your heart race as you savored every moment of her presence. You both melted into each other, content in the moment.

She pulls away, stripping you of your tank top and shorts, caressing your body with her hands. You lay back on the bed, her body hovering over yours, "Stay here." She leans closer, her lips lightly brushing against yours. She whispers in your ear, "Trust me." You nod and lay back. Jenna returns with her robe's tie, smiling.

She begins to slowly bind your hands with the tie, her fingers running lightly over your skin. You can feel her breath on your face as she ties the knot, and when she's done she leans in to kiss you.

She whispers again, "Close your eyes." You do as she says, and you feel her lips press against yours. You feel her hair brush against your face, and you can smell the faint scent of her perfume. She pulls away, and you open your eyes to find her looking at you with a mischievous smile.

"Beg. Beg for me to touch you." You take a deep breath, and whisper back, "Please, touch me." She laughs and her fingers trace a line down your neck, sending shivers through your body. She pulls you closer, and you feel her warm breath on your skin. "You're so needy, baby."

She smiles and kisses your neck softly, her hands exploring every inch of your body. You feel a wave of pleasure wash over you, and you let out a satisfied sigh. You know you're in her hands now. Her lips trail from your neck to your chest, to your stomach, and then to the waistband of your boxers.

She slides your boxers off and moves down. "I love sucking your cock." She presses a kiss onto your reddened tip, and you sigh out. She wraps her lips around your shaft and teases it with her tongue.

She begins to move her head up and down, her mouth tantalizing your most sensitive areas. You begin pulling on the tie, letting out a loud moan as you buck your hips up. Jenna releases you. "You have to be quiet."

You nod and bite your lip, but Jenna stands up on the bed, pulling down her panties and stuffing them into your mouth. "There," she whispers. "You won't make another sound." She kneels in on the bed, her hands gripping your shaft as she starts to stroke you with her expert touch.

You close your eyes in pleasure, biting down on the panties stuffed in your mouth. She leans in, her breath hot against your skin as she takes you back in her mouth. You can't help but groan in pleasure despite the panties muffling the sound.

She moves her head up and down, her hands gripping you tightly. Your pleasure builds and builds until you can't take it anymore. But before you can cum, she stops. She looks you in the eyes with a mischievous grin and says, "Not yet." She stands up on the bed again, taking her underwear out of your mouth.

She then proceeds to lower herself on your face, pushing your face between her legs and grinding against it. You can feel her heat and the intensity of her pleasure as she rides your face. Your tongue dances around her clitoris, sending her passionate waves of pleasure. She moans in pleasure, slapping a hand over her mouth to quiet herself down.

"Fuck. You're making me feel so good, Y/N." She grabs your head and pushes it up against her, grinding her hips against your face. You feel her quivering around your tongue and she lets out a loud moan.

She wraps her legs tightly around your head, her breathing becoming faster and faster as she comes closer and closer to her climax. Finally, she shudders and cries out in pleasure as she reaches her peak, gripping your headboard.

She relaxes, letting her legs loosen around your head. You give her a satisfied smile and she returns it, relieved and content. She leans down and gives you a passionate kiss. She whispers softly in your ear, telling you how good it felt and how happy she is. She pulls away and gets up, untying you.

She offers her hand and helps you sit at the edge of the bed. She brushes her fingers across your cheek and smiles standing in front of you, "You can touch me now." You smile, your hands subconsciously finding her waist and pulling her into a lip-bruising kiss.

She wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you closer, her lips soft and inviting. You brush a few strands of hair from her face, and she leans in, her lips softly pressing against yours again.

You pull away to catch your breath and she smiles, her eyes filled with wonder. She leans in and kisses your forehead before turning around, "I wanna ride you."

Your eyes widen in shock. "Reversed?"

She hums in response, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to support herself as she lowers down on your cock. You gasp as she takes you in, her tightness pushing you toward the edge. She begins to move, her hips rolling and rotating in an exquisite rhythm. "Mmm.."

You moan, unable to contain your pleasure. She responds with a sultry laugh, her body shaking with delight. She pulls you into a kiss, her hips never stopping their movement.

You're close to the edge, and she knows it. She increases her pace, her body pressing against yours. "I'm going to cum, Y/N." She rasps out, biting your shoulder. You hiss in pain, nodding at her words. She digs her nails into your bicep and lets out a scream into your shoulder as her orgasm rocks her body.

You feel her muscles contract around you and just as you're about to reach your own climax, she speaks. "Hold it, baby." You take a deep breath and hold back, gritting your teeth in the pleasure.

She kisses your neck and slows her movements, her breathing gradually evening out. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and rest your forehead against hers.

She smiles and kisses you gently before rolling off you. You lay there, heart pounding in your chest, and look up at staring at the woman in front of you. "Stand up," she says, her voice soft and gentle. You stand up, and she kneels in front of you, stroking your cock.

She takes you in her mouth, and you feel your knees buckle. She looks up at you with a mischievous grin and begins to suck. Your body tenses with pleasure and you can't help but moan. You raise your hand to your mouth and bite on it.

You feel your pleasure rising and you can't help but grab a fistful of her hair. You let out a deep moan as your pleasure intensifies, she releases you with a pop. "Fuck my throat."

Oh my goodness.

She smiles and takes you back in, her tongue working its way around your shaft. You start moving your hips, thrusting into her throat. Her hand reaches up and grips your butt as she takes you deeper. "Fuck, Jenna... please let me cum."

She pulls away and looks up at you with a naughty smile. You feel her hand wrap around your shaft and start to stroke you as she looks into your eyes. "You wanna cum?" She teases and you quickly nod your head, "Yes. Please, shit."

She moves her hand faster and faster, her grip getting tighter with each stroke. "Yeah? You want me to make you feel better baby?" She whispers and you whimper back, nodding.

She moves her mouth back onto you and you thrust your hips faster than before, chasing your high. You can feel her throat tightening around you and her tongue working faster and harder.

You come undone, your orgasm shaking your entire body. She swallows you down, her eyes never leaving yours. Your legs shake, your breathing is labored. She rises from the floor and you kiss her, savoring the taste of you on her lips.

"I'm still so horny." She whispers against your lips. You feel yourself rising at her words. Your hands wrap around her waist, pulling her into a breathless kiss, your tongues battling for dominance. She lets out a soft moan, her breath coming in short gasps as you deepen the kiss.

Her legs wrap around your waist and you lay her down on the bed, not breaking the kiss. You break away, breathing heavily, your eyes never leaving hers. Your hand reaches down between her legs, and she gasps as your fingers brush against her wet heat. "Gosh, you're so wet."

You mumble, teasing her as she buckles beneath you. You stroke yourself a few times, lining yourself up with her entrance. You push forward, both of you sighing in pleasure when you bottom out inside her. "You're so deep," she gasps, biting her lip.

Your hips jerk as you thrust into her, pushing her legs behind her head. You grab her thighs, pulling her closer. Her nails dig into her own thighs as she helps you fill her up even deeper.

You feel her heat and tightness around you as you keep thrusting. She looks up at you with a mixture of pleasure and pain, and you can't help but moan in response. "FUCK! Oh my god, Y/N." Your hand slaps over her mouth. "You have to be quiet." You say, repeating the same words she said to you.

She nods, her eyes rolling to the back of her skull. You remove your hand, a smirk on your lips. "I thought you were supposed to be the one in charge, huh? Does me fucking you while your husband is in the next room turn you on?"

She gasps and then moans, her eyes still rolling back in pleasure. She grabs your hand and pulls it back to her body, her breathing becoming more and more rapid. "I'm about to cum—"

A force pushes back against your thrusts, and her body goes rigid as she squirts, a clear liquid shooting everywhere. She shudders and relaxes, and you feel her inner walls clenching around nothing. "Did–did you just squirt?" You ask Jenna, a big smile on your face.

Jenna looks up at you with a satisfied smile and nods. She takes a deep breath, her body still trembling from the pleasure. "That's so hot." You give her a long, passionate kiss which she returns straight away.

You lay back on the bed, and Jenna sits up slightly her hand wrapping around your hard cock. "Let me finish you off. You've done so well."

You groan in pleasure as her hand expertly strokes you. Her hand moves faster and you feel yourself close to the edge. You grab the sheets below you, lowering your face to hers.

You kiss her deeply and passionately as you let go, your body shaking with pleasure. "Shit!" She holds you close as you catch your breath, her lips still lightly touching yours. You slowly relax, a smile growing on your face.

She looks into your eyes with a satisfied smile, her lips still lightly brushing against yours. You pull her closer, your hands stroking her back as you kiss her again. You lay in her arms, your breathing slowly returning to normal.

-

"I got you these," Jacob says to Jenna, smiling as he holds up a bouquet of roses. Jenna smiles, "Thank you." He waves her off, "I just wanted to apologize for how I acted last night." You roll your eyes at him, picking up your hoodie from the kitchen island.

You would go to school in your black tank top but it was against the dress code, so you had to bring your hoodie to school with you. Jenna shakes her head, "It's okay. I understand." Jacob reaches out and takes her hand, "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted like that." She smiles, nodding.

Jacob pulls into a heated kiss and you can see his tongue entering her mouth. You almost vomit at the sight, but you keep your composure and turn away. Jenna pulls away eyes wide as Jacob smiles at you, "Enjoy your day at school kid." Who does this guy think he is?

You seethe with anger, but you don't say anything. You can't believe this guy has the audacity to kiss Jenna in front of you.

You take a deep breath and his smile changes to a face of concern, "Woah, who bit you?" He says, pointing at the bite mark on your left shoulder.

Your wife, bitch.

"Eli. He plays too much." You say, a fake laugh coming from your mouth. He looks at you confused before nodding, "Uh, okay..." Jenna walks to your side, "We're going to get going now."

Jacobs nods at her words, "Hurry back. I miss you already." You clench your jaw, balling up your fist. Jenna notices this, placing a hand on your back, and rubbing it gently. "You're too much, Jacob." She says, laughing.

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves. You and Jenna say your last goodbyes before exiting the house, relieved to be out of the same room as him. As you get into the car Jenna immediately looks at you, "Eli? Really?"

You shrug, your lips curling into a smile. "No one told you to bite my shoulder!" Jenna laughed and shook her head. You started the car and drove away, feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders. Your heart was still pounding, but the feeling of Jenna's laugh ringing in your ears made it easier to breathe.

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