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jo-harrington · 3 months

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Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Prologue: Crossover

Summary: Everyone wishes that they could have an Eddie Munson in their lives. In a strange turn of events, Eddie wishes that he could meet you, his favorite character from a cult classic 80's TV series. And he's about to get his wish.

Word Count: 3.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Minor Angst, Fluff, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events

Note: Hello and welcome. I'm very excited about getting to expand on this idea; it's going to be a wild ride. Please note as you head in, and as we get into further chapters...this fic is going to be a little mind-fucky and a little bit self aware. This is my love letter to and my criticism of fanfiction, but at the end of the day, we're still gonna get to fall in love with Eddie and get some kind of Happily Ever After. This is my guarantee.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

May 2022. Such a weird time.

A time of uncertainty, a time of change. A time where the world seemed like it had been torn apart and was slowly being knit back together again.

But then a switch was flipped. Something happened. An old season ended and a new one started and with that start came something new. Someone new. And suddenly, countless people began to yearn for this new person in their lives.

A new, old person. Eddie Munson.

Joy ignited. Creativity sparked. Millions of words written and read. Edits made. Art drawn. Merch bought.

So many voices crying “why isn’t he real. WHY ISN'T HE REAL.”

If there was a god, he would let them have their own Eddie Munson. And if there was a Satan, he would let them sell their souls for Eddie Munson.

That’s just not how the universe works.

At least…not this one...

October 1985. A different kind of place and time. Still weird.

But Eddie Munson was real.

Sometimes to his detriment.

And for the most part, it was alright.

He played guitar, laughed with friends, mocked bullies to protect the people like him that were considered less than. He'd overcome hardships of one sort or another for most of his life, he could keep at it for a little while longer.

It would be his day week month year sometime soon.

Wouldn't it?

But until then, he would bide his time. Hopefully, this year, he'd pass all of his classes and finally graduate. Get to flip that douchebag Higgins off and snatch up a long-awaited, and well-deserved diploma.

What made it all easier, what softened the blow...was you.

It was silly. He knew that. Ronnie used to tease him on Wednesday nights when he needed to run home because he had a "standing date with his girl."

"Your girl doesn't even know you're alive," she'd scoff as he bustled her into the van. "She isn't real."

No...no you weren't.

Why couldn't you be real.

See, for the past...however long Eddie had spent his late nights half-assing homework, planning campaigns for Hellfire, working on music, and watching a television show. His guilty pleasure, a show about the ups and downs and upside downs of living in a sleepy suburban town: Port Geneva.

A show where you were his favorite character.

And crush.

You weren't the main character--in fact, you were just the main character's quirky best friend--but you were a fan favorite, as much as he could tell. You'd only been in the background during the first season, but before long you were front and just-left-of-center. And last year, you'd even gotten a two-episode arc in the season finale as you turned the small town on its head by announcing, a month or two before graduation, that you were quitting school to follow your dream and become an artist.

And man...Eddie had been there.

He'd actually missed those episodes airing when...well, when everything happened with his father and the heist...and the house...and Paige.

He'd missed a lot of episodes that season. Missed seeing you come into your own as he tried and failed to come into his.

Thankfully Wayne--and Eddie wasn't a believer but whatever deity in charge needed to bless his Uncle Wayne--had the foresight to tape those episodes for him.

Those tapes would be cherished 'til the day he died, because they had truly gotten him through those tough days after everything.

He wished he had seen them when they aired, maybe...maybe he would have made some different decisions if he had.

Of course, Eddie had already loved you before then.

Since he had first laid eyes on you, actually.

He was sure that if you were real, you would be the one to understand him more than any of his friends. See the real him. In return, he would understand you, be there for you too.

He already had been. He'd seen you cry countless times, he'd laughed with you, celebrated your successes and mourned your failures. He'd been there for you when you crushed on that dickhead Mark, and then had your heart broken by the careless jerk.

And somewhere deep down inside of him, when he was sitting in that jail cell after he wasted his phone call on Paige and he felt the weight of the world bear down on his shoulders…he wished that you were real so he could have called you instead.

If you were real, Eddie's life would just be a little nicer.

He knew…he just knew.

Of course, in the mean time while he wished with every fiber of his being that you would walk into his life, he brought you to life in other ways. During mid-season and summer hiatuses, he would write you into his DND campaigns. His friends knew, they always called him out for it.

"Are you seriously making her an NPC man?" Dougie would scoff and throw a D20 across the table at him.

"No, what are you talking about?" he defended and threw the die right back at his friend. "This is Spiria the Bold."

"Uh huh," Jeff rolled his eyes. "Sure."

By his imagination and his pen, you became a powerful warrior, a sharp-tongued trickster, a seductive mage. You became anything he wanted you to be--most often with a companion and lover that mirrored him--and everything he knew, deep down, that you were.

And then the unthinkable happened.

September ‘84. He and Wayne were in the checkout line at K-mart. Cart stacked with new clothes and school supplies and groceries. When suddenly...there you were. Right in front of him.

Alright, not you. Per se. But your face, smiling alongside Samantha and Patrick and Scotty and Bill on the cover of the TV Guide.

On Set with the Stars of Port Geneva.

Wayne was the one to snatch the magazine from the rack and add it to their bounty, a knowing smile on his lips as he shook his head.

He knew Eddie needed a little pick-me-up.

Or a big one.

How could he have known this would be anything but one...

Eddie scoured over the pages once they got back to the trailer. He was hoping there would be a big enough picture of you that he could cut out and tape to the otherwise barren walls of his new room. And there was; you were leaning against the back of your signature pastel blue Volkswagen Beetle, arms across your chest, head tilted to the side with the signature scrunched smile you gave when you were embarrassed.

He adored you.

Before he took scissors to the page, he read the interview with your actress.

He wasn't too keen on her, even though she had your face.

The illusion that Rosemary Glass was really you had been shattered the first time he'd heard her voice on a radio interview; instead of your perfect and familiar middle-American speech...Rosemary's voice was accented.

Not to mention, she sounded pretentious.

Gross.

Still, he could look past that annoyance if he got some kind of insight to what the next season would bring for you.

Hopefully not a new love interest. His heart could only take so much.

...gives us a tour of the Patterson and Son's set, one that is forever enshrined as the setting of Patrick and Samantha's first kiss. "Oh I'm actually not fond of that scene," Rosemary confesses. "Yeah it's sweet, and the way I bring Sam in so Pat could confess his feelings but the...when I fell down? It was not scripted. And I was honestly shocked they kept that in. But fans seem to think she's clumsy now because of it. That I'm clumsy. When I just tripped over a wire. It's quite awful, really." We ask Rosemary to tell us what she'll miss most, now that the show is coming to an end...

Eddie went rigid as he read those words.

The show...coming to an end?

"What?" he exclaimed into his empty room. "No, no, no."

He carefully examined the article again, then turned back to the beginning of the feature, only to feel his heart stop in his chest.

The title of the feature was like crit hit.

The final killing blow to his already weak constitution.

One Last Summer in Port Geneva - On the Set of the Final Season

The final season was a sham.

Eddie savored every episode, though. Of course he would!

He would enjoy every last moment with you that he could get before he lost you forever. But...he hated it.

It was lazy writing--seriously what were they thinking--and a quick, cheap means to tie up all the loose ends they'd set up over the years. He could tell they tried to deliver as fulfilling a finale for the extensive cast of characters as they could. Still, he was sure he could have done better.

Samantha and Patrick got engaged after graduation. That was lame.

Bonnie finally quit the bakery to open her own cafe the next town over. Didn't anyone remember that she wanted to quit because she wanted to be a vet instead? That was the whole point of her! She didn't want to follow in her family's footsteps and she was doing just that.

And you? You took a backseat.

Instead of leaving town right after graduation--something that you had followed through reluctantly to make your parents happy even though you had just resolved to put your own happiness first for once--you stayed to help Pat plan his proposal.

Your big adventure, your big push for your dreams, were on hold again. You played second fiddle over and over until the final episode.

Eddie was grateful to have you for a little longer, but...once again annoyed that you were looked over--over and over, just like he was--when you had already proved that you were worthy of top billing.

Worthy of being the main character for once.

Still, at the beginning of the series finale, you packed your bags, cashed in your savings account, and drove out of town. The future was yours, just like it was always meant to be.

And Eddie cried.

The whole time tears streamed down his face as you said your own watery goodbyes. He might have even waved as you stuck your hand out the windshield to say goodbye to your friends as your car idled at the last stop sign. You blew a kiss to everything you knew and loved then started on your way into the unknown, car getting smaller in the distance right before the commercial break.

He held his breath for the final scene: a walk through the house where it all started and then Sam smiled her signature hopeful smile as she shut the door on the audience.

The screen faded to black for one final time and he exhaled.

"It's over," he muttered in slight disbelief, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself.

Port Geneva was over, and you were gone for good.

It was a strange feeling.

Heartbreak, mourning, disappointment? He couldn't really know for sure. Empty was the best way to describe it; the lack of feeling. It was infuriating. Port Geneva was just a television show, he attempted to rationalize for the nth time since he started watching. You were just a character on a tv show; how could you mourn for someone and something that wasn't even real?

You hadn't actually died. He could still see glimpses of you if he wanted, whenever Rosemary Glass' next movie came out or something.

But that wasn't you.

You were gone, for all intents and purposes, and it was a blow that hit Eddie hard.

How could he go on without you?

Devastated, he got high that night after he stewed on his grief. He day-dreamed and monologued to an empty trailer about a universe where the two of you were together, where your travels took you to Hawkins, of all places, and you fell in love with him, just like you were supposed to.

If the walls could talk, they would have a fantastic tale to tell. One with heroes and misunderstandings and love at first sight. One with a horrible, unseen foe and many pitfalls and dangers that exceeded anyone's wildest imaginations. One with a magic door that led to the happily ever that was beyond well-deserved.

Grief did wonderful and terrible things, after all.

He woke up for school the next morning with cotton mouth and a vague outline of a story that did just that: brought you to Hawkins to fall in love with him and all of the other things that seemed like nonsense once he was in a more right-minded state.

The only problem was that it was all in his English notebook. And he didn't need anyone finding that.

"Fuck," he groaned and ripped the page out. He shoved it into his bedside drawer, where it would be doomed to a crumpled and forgotten future.

Or until he needed a condom.

Which, considering how everyone had doubled down on their disgust of him, wouldn't be any time soon.

But there you stayed.

Put away, like old obsessions and childish things, to be ignored and forgotten.

At least for a little while.

Eddie tried.

He did.

He kept you and Port Geneva out of sight and mind as much as humanly possible. It was the most effort he had really put to anything tangible in the past year.

The series ended at a weird time--during the middle of the season--and some investigative journalism show took over its time slot. Barbara Walters couldn't hold a candle to you, so it wasn't difficult for him to keep himself rooted in reality on the nights where he typically indulged in his silly fantasies.

The daydreams that he had were limited to lyrics for Corroded Coffin originals and ideas for Hellfire, and nights were spent alone in the darkness of the living room, with his reflection in the television set to keep him company as he tried his best to do homework that he'd already done before.

Before he realized, though, the school year was coming to a close and he was--big shocker--on the brink of failure. It wasn't until Higgins called him into his office, again, that you made your violent resurgence into his life.

There was a tentative truce between Higgins and Eddie for a while.

Civility was a strange thing for both of them. They actively avoided one another, save for a snide jab here and there, and Eddie tried to stay out of the Principal's Office as much as he could.

That is, until Higgins was forced to tell Eddie that he needed to repeat his repeat senior year.

"Don't act like I want this at all," he sneered at Eddie who tripped over a reaction. "I'd rather have you out of these halls for good. You drop out one year, then you re-enroll and you fail another. Try to make the most of it this time Munson; I don't want to have this talk again."

Eddie grumbled the whole drive back to the trailer, and he fell onto the sofa with his head in his hands once he got in.

"Which one of the fates wrote this stupid plot for me now, as if last year wasn't enough. You can't make this stuff up sometimes."

He laid there, wallowing in his misery for hours, days, years, until it got dark enough for headlights outside to be noticeable as they shined through the window. There was a glint of a reflection that caught his eye and had him turn his head.

"TV," he sighed and reached out as though he could touch the set and stacks of tapes neatly piled below. “The cause-of and solution-to all of life’s problems.”

He contemplated his life for a few more minutes.

He could make the most of the final few weeks of the school year. He could set himself up as a willing and reliable pupil for these last few assignments and tests, even though they wouldn't mean very much.

He could do all of these things so that when he walked into the halls of Hawkins High in the fall, on his absolute last first day of school--whatever deity or powers-that-be willing, because how "getting the hell outta dodge or he would die here" turned into "two extra years in that shit hole" he could only attribute to cosmic intervention--the faculty would already know he would try his best this time.

It would show them he was serious about graduating and that he would succeed despite all odds against him. Finally.

He could do this.

Or...

He could put in one of the tapes from the stack and scrounge for loose bills left over from his last few transactions and order a pizza. Pretend like he didn't exist for a little while.

And given the choice?

Eddie Munson chose the latter.

And he continued to choose the latter throughout the summer and even into the fall.

Nights that he didn't already have plans were spent in front of the television.

They were cherished nights with you.

Aside from his VHS recordings, he found a channel that showed reruns of Port Geneva after 10pm. Two hours of small town shenanigans that might very well be found just outside of his own door--if he only went and looked--with you just there, making your appearance every so often and catching his eye.

Homework was sometimes left halfway done on the coffee table until he needed to switch out a tape, or change the channel, and he spent more time filling his heart than enriching his mind, so to speak; he knew all of this school stuff already anyways.

Third times a charm and all right?

He talked to the screen more often than not, tried to warn you against one disappointment or another. Sometimes, if he was watching one of his tapes, he'd pause right on your face and just talk to you. Mundane things, usually, like Ronnie's last phone call home or some album that got released and a song he thought you might like.

Other nights, like tonight, he got vulnerable. Moments where life seemed a little extra trying, and he'd confess his feelings to your image.

Knelt on the floor in front of the coffee table, warm light bathed his face promising comfort as he spoke, and the din of static emitted from the television set, akin to an angel's voice...beyond understanding of humans.

He'd never been one for church, but this kind of confessional was sacred enough.

An eternal bond, just you and him.

He stopped his ramblings at that thought.

It was a strange moment of clarity.

Where had that come from?

"I..." Eddie looked down at himself, a foot away from the television set, remote clenched in his hand. Then he looked at you, soul-filled eyes just beyond the glass, not looking at him, only...through him, just past him. "What am I doing?"

What was he doing? He was...he wasn't a kid anymore who could hide in his dreams; well, honestly he was always going to do that, but this was different.

One minute he felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders as he told you about his troubles, and the next it was all back, heavier than ever, as he realized how silly this all was.

And here he was, wasting his life knelt at your altar.

It wasn't holy. It was pathetic.

You'd never answer; you weren't real.

"Why?" he asked aloud, jaw clenched. He gripped the remote tightly. "What did I do to not have...someone? Huh? What have I ever done to be alone? That I have to rely on a fucking television character to feel understood. And now I'm losing my mind talking to myself, talking to you, at midnight every night. Why am I here wishing that you're real? Why couldn't you just...be...real?"

If there was a God, he would let Eddie Munson have you. If there was a Satan, he would let Eddie sell his soul for you.

And that's how he knew neither of them existed: you didn't exist either.

Eddie hit the eject button on the VCR and was about to shut everything so he could go to bed, when there was a crash outside.

Crashes in Forest Hills weren't abnormal--someone backing into trash cans, losing traction on the icy roads in the winter, and the one time Mrs. Dawson kicked her husband out and threw all of his things out the window--but it was something he'd gotten used to since he came to live with Wayne.

This crash, however, started a ruckus.

Someone was yelling and that stupid dog across the way started barking.

Eddie was a lot of things...but a dramatic gossip was definitely high on the list.

What else was there to do in the Midwest?

He grabbed his cigarettes from the bowl full of junk on the coffee table and stepped outside, fully intent on plopping down on the old couch on the porch to smoke and watch the scene unfold.

A car crashed into the telephone pole; didn't look like there was much damage but it had run through some trashcans and might have clipped the drivers side mirror off of Mrs. Mayfield's car. The same Mrs. Mayfield who was on her own porch being held back by Max as she yelled.

"Are you kidding me? It's fucking midnight!"

"Mom! Stop!"

"The car, Max!"

Maybe there'd be a fight.

He barely got his cigarette lit when he noticed--really noticed--the offending car: a powder blue Volkswagen Beetle.

He blinked several times and then rubbed his eyes, thinking it might have just been a trick of the light or something.

Or it was a coincidence.

Or a dream.

Maybe he'd had a heart attack and died in front of his television or something?

Plenty of people drove Volkswagen Beetles. He was pretty sure he'd even heard Nancy Wheeler asking her parents for one as a graduation present.

But with the same license plate number?

The same one from the show, the same one that was in the TV Guide all those months ago. The same one on the makeshift poster he had taped on the wall next to his bed, that he'd run his fingers over to "kiss" you goodbye countless times, just like he did to his guitar.

"It's just dark," he tried to convince himself, "and I'm tired, and...and..."

It was a coincidence. It was a dream.

He repeated the mantra over and over in his head like a lifeline.

It was another fan like him who just used fantasy to make their life a little better. That's all he was trying to do too, right? He could understand; hell, if this was a new neighbor, maybe he'd be able to chat with them about the show. Wouldn't that be something?

Eddie was so distracted making up endless excuses for himself that he didn't notice Mrs. Mayfield as she threw her hands up in the air with an exaggerated "I'm calling the police. He didn't hear Max holler at her mom to calm down, or see the tail lights of the Beetle turn off either.

It wasn't until the driver's side door swung open and a sneaker-covered foot crunched against the gravel that he forgot all the excuses he was conjuring.

And his heart stopped as the driver got out of the car and stood in the faint glow of the streetlight.

Because that driver was you.

Next Chapter: Alternate Universe

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itsphoenix0724 · 3 months

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All Things Vile (Eris x Reader)

Summary: A recon mission to the Autumn Court gets more heated than you intended. They say Autumn males fuck like they have fire in their veins-you guess you're about to find out.

Warnings: ROUGH SMUT (this is pure filth and I'm not sorry), kind of dark, oral (m!receiving) choking, bondage

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote for him, been a while since I wrote in general since I'm adjusting back into my school life. Chapter 3 of MMOTI is drafted and will hopefully be released soon! But anyway here's a smutty Eris fic for all of you <3

The Autumn Court was ablaze in moonlit revelry. The scent of spiced cider and ale consumed the grove along with the smell of the blazing campfire. Fog weaved in and out of the shadow-drenched trees, urging the partygoers to follow its trail into the darkness. You could make out bodies against trees, males and females losing themselves in one another, as you jumped silently along the oak’s branches. It was a simple mission; Get in and get out, that’s what Rhys had said, and that’s what you fully intended on doing. Cloaked in darkness, mask pulled up to hide everything but your eyes, you found your target.

A drunken blush stained his pale cheeks, and the blood-red silk shirt he wore was unbuttoned so obscenely low you could see the dappling of freckles along his chest in the firelight. His auburn hair was unruly; the waves held down only by the circlet of gold leaves that marked him as the firstborn son of Autumn. His lips were stained from the wine he was sipping and his eyes had taken on a seductive half-lid as he somehow fixed his burning gaze straight onto you.

Fuck, Rhys was going to kill you.

Eris stood from his chair in one smooth motion, prowling towards your spot hidden in the woods like a mountain cat, amber eyes burning. You jump down from your tree, weaving through the branches like smoke to try to lose the lordling who’s hot on your tail. Nothing but the sound of your labored breathing and the sounds of footfalls echo through the dark wood. You just need to get to the border, Eris won’t have the gall to cross after you. You can see the green grass of Spring, the pastel pink of the cherry blossoms grotesquely clashing with the russet hues of the forest that currently surrounds you.

You can almost smell the sickly sweet air when a hand encircles your wrist like a hot brand.

The world tips and falls, the grass slipping out from under your feet as you’re dropped into a room, landing on all fours against a hardwood floor. Bands of fire wrap around your wrists and ankles, pinning you to the ground, not burning but holding you there. The tell-tale wave of nausea that means you’ve been winnowed somewhere quickly overwhelms you as you try not to heave onto the plush burgundy rug infront of you.

Eris has taken you to his room at Fir Hall, his private estate away from his life wrapped in court politics, you’re familiar with the home after many spy missions here. Your eyes fix on the Autumn Prince with a burning ferocity, and he does nothing but glare back down at you from where he looms above you.

“Well, well what has fallen into my trap,” He fixes you with a wolfish smile as he pulls down your mask, and your lips peel back into a snarl. “Hello Sweetheart,” he purrs as he tucks a loose hair behind your ears. “I’ve missed you, it’s very nice to see you again.” He tries to run a thumb over your bottom lip, but you snap your teeth in his direction like a feral animal and he wisely pulls his hand away.

“Bite me,” you growl out as Eris crouches down until he’s at eye level with you. A hound cornering a wild fox, it seemed the hunter had won tonight as he lets out a laugh that leaves a burning caress down your spine.

“Oh, I intend to.” He promises, stroking his hand along the back of your hair, pulling out the hair tie, and letting it fall around your face. “Now will you mind your manners?” He raises a copper brow, eyes dancing with amusement. The bond buried deep in your chest tries to wiggle free of its restraints, begging you to let it play with the other half of your soul.

“Never,” you vow to him even as the mischief in his eyes turns to longing. This is torture denying yourself of him.

But how could you not?

Beron is still High Lord, if you were to tie yourself to him you would have to abide by his rules. You would rather claw your own eyes out. And if your family ever found out, if Mor ever found out, the shame and guilt would burn more than the roaring fire in the hearth.

So you have this, you take every mission you can to Autumn and collect all the broken pieces and scraps that you can get. This is what you will allow yourself.

“I thought that would be the case,” Eris gets up and languidly strolls away from you, plucking the bottle of bourbon from the cabinet and pouring himself a drink. You watch with adept interest as his ring-clad fingers tighten around the crystalline glass, he strolls over to his bookshelf and plucks a well-loved novel off the dark shelf.

Then the bastard settles himself into one of the plush armchairs and starts to fucking read. He ignores you as though you’re nothing more than a potted plant in the corner, he doesn’t even so much as glance at you, fully enraptured in his novel. A few minutes pass when you clear your throat. Eris deigns to look bored as he lazily turns his head toward you.

“Yes?” He asks, propping the book against one knee and taking another sip of his whiskey. Your eyes track the movement of his throat involuntarily.

“Aren’t you going to do something?” You push, urging him with your eyes as you lift your head through the curtain of your hair. You hope your gaze communicates everything you cannot bring yourself to voice, fearing your body will refuse to allow you air if you try.

I love you, please don’t ignore me, I need you, play with me

He chuckles a dark sound and picks up his book again, pointedly flicking a page as the rubies on his hands glint in the firelight.

“I’m not in the business of playing with unwilling toys,” Eris supplies, purposely staring at the fire instead of you. “Perhaps I should call Rhysand to collect you and tell him I don’t appreciate being spied on. Perhaps, he will never send you back here.” His brows scrunch in frustration but you both know that the threat is empty. It seems he is tired of your games.

“What do you want?” You barely grind out, still refusing to relent to the signing inside your soul. “Do you want me to beg? Is that it? Princely bastard.” You practically spit, and faster than the blink of an eye Eris is in front of you, fisting your hair in one hand and tilting your chin to meet his smoldering gaze.

“Are you ashamed of me?” He questions, and you can see the vulnerability dancing in his eyes. You shake your head as the fire binding your wrists recedes and you move into a more comfortable kneeling position, hands now bound in front of you. He soothes his hand along your cheek again as your brows knit together. You thought that the two of you had a kind of understanding. You had no idea where this was coming from. “I tire of this ruse, my love.” If Eris notices the mournful look in your eyes he says nothing. He strokes a warm hand through your hair, admiring your eyes in the firelight. “Why don’t you show me how much you missed me huh?” The wolfish grin is back and you hum your agreement as he runs his thumb along your bottom lip again, pleased at your cooperation as he slides his finger into your mouth. He thrusts it into your mouth and as you teasingly run your tongue over the pad he lets out a moan that shoots straight to your core.

He undoes the belt at his waist, pulling his cock out with his hand, and your mouth waters at the sheer size of him.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth now,” he rumbles, pure authority and power radiating off of him. A glimpse at the future ruler he will become one day. You nod your enthusiastic consent as he grips the back of your head and thrusts into your mouth at a merciless pace. Your head empties as he hits the back of your throat, the hand cupping the back of your hair surprisingly gentle compared to the way he was brutalizing your mouth. “That’s a good girl, take me down your throat.” It spills out of his mouth like he can’t even control it as your eyes roll back in your head at his praise. Eris pushes your mouth all the way down to the base of his dick and holds you there for a few seconds as your nose connects with his pelvic bone. He’s relentless as he uses you for his pleasure and you think that he might bruise your vocal cords.

He spills down your throat as your binds dissolve into nothing, leaving behind a warm tingling sensation where the fire licked at your limbs.

You swallow what he gave you, opening your mouth in emphasis as whiskey eyes blow wide with lust. You’re drenched at the sight of his cock already stiffening again. He walks to the mountainous bed in front of you, making himself comfortable against the pillows.

“Come here pet.” He growls fisting his cock in his hand and crooking his fingers with the other. You start to rise to your legs on sore knees, but you freeze when Eris tuts–holding his hand out to stop you. “No. I want you to crawl to me.” The order wraps around you like warm silk, voice sliding against your bones. You lower yourself back down to the floor, humiliation burning hot on your cheeks as you sway your hips in what you hope to be enticing. He stops you quickly and you look up at him from under fluttering lashes. “Strip. Slowly.” Your face burns even hotter and Eris can’t take his eyes off you as you rise, slowly undoing every single buckle on your leathers and letting them fall to the floor, leaving you entirely exposed to him before climbing onto the bed. His body is so warm against your skin as he draws your mouth to his, the burning taste of cinnamon whiskey floods your mouth. He dominates you even here, claiming you as his tongue wrestles with yours. The moan that slips out of you comes out scratchy from the abuse of your throat, and in a flash, you’re below him as he grinds his hips into yours.

“Eris,” you whimper as his cock brushes against your folds. You need him to fill you to the brim, wanting him as close as possible. He shushes you gently as he bites at your pulse point, the only goal in his mind is to claim as he sucks dark marks into your neck.

You’ll surely be wearing only turtle necks for a few weeks after this.

His warm hands skate down your body, pulling and prodding at your sensitive nipples, letting out a dark chuckle as you whine at his ministrations. Eris mocks your moans as he rubs a finger at your center, rolling the sensitive bundle of nerves between his fingers. Finally, he slips a finger inside of you rubbing at the spot that makes you see stars. He knows exactly where to touch to get you to dissolve, his beautiful mate bending to him like water running through his fingertips. That ring-clad hand curls around your throat, cold metal contrasting with his warm hands, and you keen as the pleasant dizzy feeling takes over your whole body.

That feeling combined with the addition of another finger in your core sends you hurtling through gold-flecked oblivion.

He pulls his fingers out of you, sucking them into his mouth and moaning as he relishes the taste of you on his tongue. Staring down at your shaking form with smugness in his eyes as he circles the skin of your inner thigh, enjoying the way the muscles quiver under his touch. Eris sinks himself into you, inch by tortuous inch until you can’t tell where your body ends and he begins. He strokes slowly and deliberately, bruising you with his intensity as your vision goes white with searing pleasure every time he moves his hips.

You want him to leave his imprint everywhere on your body, that unanswered bond begging you to never leave this bed again. Eris must feel it too, that golden thread wrapping around his heart begging him to keep you, to never let another male so much as look at you. That makes something ugly twist in his chest and he almost snarls at even the thought of another male near you as his instincts take over and he draws your legs over his shoulders to hit an even deeper part inside of you. Your walls are clenching and fluttering around him as his pace turns ravenous, all you can do is try to hold on as your nails scrape jagged lines down his back. Eris scrapes his teeth over your neck, then he moves down to your nipple biting down as you scream his name before giving the other one equal attention.

“Who do you belong to pet?” He murmurs in your ear in time with a thrust that's so deep your vision turns white. “Who’s the only one that can make you feel like this?” You can barely give him anything but a whimper as he devastates your body, pinching your clit in a way that elicits a pleasure-soaked sob. “Scream it for me,” he punctuates it with a slap against the apex of your thighs.

“Yours Eris, I’m all yours!” You scream as you orgasm, tears running down your flushed cheeks, Eris follows soon after you spilling himself deep inside of you.

He pulls out, disappears into the bathroom, and returns with a clean rag to wipe up the mess he made between your thighs. He collapses onto the mattress next to you and pulls you to his chest, warming his hands with his power as he rubs slow circles into the small of your back. You look up at him and he’s taken aback at the vulnerability in your eyes. “Eris I-” you choke, unable to force the words you so desperately want to say past your lips. He shushes you with a kiss against your forehead.

“I know,” he mutters into your hairline “I know.” You hold him tighter, blinking back tears as you lock the bond back down in its obsidian shackles,“I’ll wait an eternity for you.” It’s the last thing you hear before closing your eyes as you let him soothe you to sleep.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I trust everything went well?” Rhys asks, raising a dark brow at your form where you stand across from his desk. You subconsciously pull the dark turtleneck further up, the deep purple marks burning like a brand. You scrubbed yourself raw as soon as you winnowed yourself to your apartment, and you’re praying to the Mother that Rhys doesn’t even catch a whiff of Eris or the frankly copious amounts of sex. The thought of Eris enjoying it this morning, pressing his nose against the crook of your neck to make sure it really stuck, before crawling his way down your body to settle in between your thighs makes you triple-check that the steel of your mental shields was still in place.

“Nothing to report,” You rasp, voice destroyed after last night's events. The attempts to clear your throat are doing nothing to help you

“Are you alright?” Rhys questions, wringing his hands together on his desk as he shoots a concerned look.

“Must just be a chill I caught in Autumn, those woods get cold at night.” You supply and he hums his agreement.

“Well go rest, you’ve earned it. Perhaps you should see Madja for something to soothe your throat.” Rhys says and you nod your agreement, taking the cue for your dismissal. You wait until his office door clicks shut behind you to let out your sigh of relief, thinking of nothing but soft sheets and warm hands.

You can only hope you get another mission there soon.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #eris vanserra #eris imagine #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris vanserra smut

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reiderwriter · 7 months

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♦️Pardon The Way That I Stare♦️

Chapter 8 of That's What You Get

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Summary: After some encouragement from Emily and Penelope, you try to explain your reaction to Reid at work. Until you find yourself reacting to him more and more, distracting you from doing your job. Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, Reader is just really horny for Reid (REAL). A/N: We're getting closer to the climax and I'm SO beyond excited for everyone to read the next chapter because I think it's going to be so good but also so evil and I enjoy that very much. If you like the series, let me know by dropping a message in the replies or in my inbox, and follow my other account @reiderslibrary for just fics from me without my random thoughts and bullshit in between... You can find masterlist here, and the series masterlist is linked here!

You were stupid, there was no other logical explanation for it. Staring at Emily on your doorstep as your brain stood there, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, trying to process the words she’d just said to you, there was really only one thing running through your brain.

“I’m a fucking dumbass.” you groaned, your hands coming up to your head as you pondered your next move.

“There’s no chance that you’ll believe this was all just one practical joke that I’ve been playing to test how quickly you could turn up at my place with wine?” You looked up hopefully at Emily, and she returned with a concerned look of her own, that silently communicated ‘No, I wasn’t born yesterday.’

“Worth a shot, come on in.” You opened the door wider for Emily and grabbed a second glass from your kitchen to share the wine before she could start her interrogation.

“So,” she prompted as soon as you returned to the couch, and you sighed heavily as you nodded and began.

“I married Reid in Vegas.”

“Yes, I got that from the text, what I didn’t get was why, what, when, where, who, and how! Question words, Y/N, important information if you please.” You chuckled at Emily’s tone, and you melted a little into your couch. Just like with Penelope, letting others know had comforted you. You’d never been one to bottle up your emotions, and you couldn’t exactly tell Spencer how you felt about him, so your dearest FBI-assigned best friends were a welcome compromise.

“You promise not to tell anyone? Penelope knows, and so does Rossi, but no one else does. Well maybe someone else but I don’t know who that someone is - long story.” You rambled, still aware of the promise you’d made with Spencer, and knowing that you’d actually broken it twice now.

“Scouts honor, now get on with it.”

“You were never a scout.”

“That’s beside the point, Y/N, now spill!”

“Do you remember when we finished the case in Vegas last weekend, and we all wanted nothing more than to go home, but the jet was landed?” A small nod encourages you to continue. “Well, Reid offered to show me this bar that he thought I’d enjoy, and honestly, I’d had a tense phone call with my mom and was feeling a bit crappy, so I thought a drink wouldn’t hurt.”

“A drink might get you married though.” You glared at her at the interruption, and she held her hands up in surrender as you continued.

“The bar was amazing, and he noticed I was feeling down, and I don’t know, he just has this way of making me feel calm and fully together. I was a mess earlier that day, but with like one short conversation, he kind of turned my mood entirely around.” You flushed then and decided to ignore Emily’s next interjection.

“Oh god…”

“Apparently after that, we went to a casino or another bar or something, but honestly, I drank so much I don’t remember any of that. But at some point, we bought a very expensive engagement ring, made our way to the Bureau for Wedding Licences and then a chapel and now we’re legally married.” You tried to end your story there, but Emily wasn’t having that.

“No, you’re not stopping there. You said you kissed, and you ruined everything, and you mentioned a wedding night in that text, do not shortchange me now, Y/L/N. Wait, should I be calling you Reid now?” She grinned at the flush that coated your entire body with that, and you buried your head in your pillows.

“Okay, okay. Well, we’re trying to figure out who the witnesses to our wedding were. We know that two team members were there, and Penelope was one of them, but Spencer doesn’t know that yet. Again, another long story.” You let your words sink in as you realize the tangled mess you’d spun for yourself in the last week.

“We spent some time researching our options on Saturday night, to see if we could get our memories to come back and I might not have left until a couple hours ago?”

“Y/N! You’ve been banging Reid for the last three days?”

“No! No, nothing like that, we didn’t- well, we did just not at his house, but also I don’t think you want to hear about that.” You spilled all the details about your last few days with Reid, his touches, his care, the dates you’d been on, the way you’d wrapped yourself around each other in your sleep, but still woken up to an empty bed, all the way up to that fateful kiss and your stupid reaction.

“So there, I’ve ruined it.” Emily looked at you pityingly and started to say something when your doorbell rang a second time.

“That’s reinforcements,” Emily said, standing and moving to greet the newcomer herself. You were relieved when Penelope Garcia came marching through the door, ice cream in hand and mouth already moving.

“Have no fear, your guardian angel is here. Emily texted me en route and I disentangled myself from my plans with a now very suspicious Derek Morgan to race over here. I think I managed to throw him off the scent by mentioning my ukelele lessons with Sam though, he always kinda glazes over whenever I go into heavy details about that.” She perches herself on the couch beside you and starts organizing things on the table, pulling out three tubs of ice cream and locating adequate spoons in the drawer.

“Pen, you didn’t have to do all this…”

“Yes, I did. Emily tell her I did. I need all the details that you suddenly remembered Y/N or I’m going to go crazy, and let me tell you, I am not an effective tech analyst when my mind is all aflutter with wonder.” You smiled awkwardly at the situation. You’d glossed over the details of your wedding night with Emily, going no further than insinuating that you’d had sex, but now the pressure was on.

“We just want to help you, Y/N. And we’re morbidly curious.” Emily joined in. Both of their eyes were trained on you in a hopeful expression, leaving the ball firmly in your court as you fought down the embarrassment rising from the back of your throat.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath.

“I think it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life,” was all you managed to squeak out before they were reacting, asking twenty questions each in the space of a minute as your body both caught fire at the memory and shrunk down to the size of an ant at the attentions.

“Calm down, calm down, I’ll tell you more but you have to calm down.” They stilled themselves and bit their tongue, and you continued.

“Well I don’t want to get into the, uh, specific details, but let’s just say that he’s very good at putting theory into practice. That or he’s actually very experienced in sex and nobody ever realized, because the things he was doing were like, expert-level maneuvers. I didn’t think I was that flexible until he was hitting from-”

“OKAY not that much detail, this is still Reid we’re talking about.”

“Sorry,” you giggled sheepishly and decided to spare them all the details. “All I’ll say is that we both finished multiple times. And I might have stupidly let him finish inside of me.”

“Y/N, you should know better! Safe sex is really important, especially if you’re fucking in a hotel room in Vegas.” Emily half-chastised you, but you could hear the humor in her voice and just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly having sex with a stranger, I was having sex with my husband.” That got you a teasing cooing from the two women and you buried your face in your hands again.

“So he’s your husband now, is he? How long have you been married? Like three days?”

“Five. Fuck, we’re running out of time.” The length of time that had elapsed since you’d walked down the aisle shocked you as soon as you’d acknowledged it, and you downed your glass of wine as your brain ran rampant.

“Rossi said that if we didn’t tell everyone in a week, he’d do it for us so we didn’t lose our jobs, and we need to file for an annulment soon so we don’t have to get a divorce but there’s like… a one week window, and it’s already been five days. Shit. shit shit shit shit.”

“Hold on, Y/N, you said he kissed you earlier today, right? I wouldn’t exactly recommend getting married and then dating your partner, but it sounds like you both at least like each other enough to pursue this relationship, why would you need an annulment?” Emily’s confusion only served to remind you of the reason they were both here in the first place.

“That’s the problem. I think he thinks I don’t like him like that. And it’s totally my fault that he thinks that, because when he kissed me I didn’t react well and then he just left, and I think I ruined everything.”

“Define not reacting well,” Emily probed further.

“I pushed him away and slammed the door in his face. But that was only because I remembered everything that happened between us on our wedding night, and remembering the most satisfying experience of your entire existence while face-to-face with the man who you’d hitherto never thought capable of that, and having it occur in like 0.02 of a second is a paralyzing experience.”

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot,” Penelope whispered from her side of the couch and you nodded heartily in agreement.

“And what, he just left?” Emily asked again, tone incredulous with all the information she was receiving.

“Well when I’d had my moment and realized what I’d done, I opened the door again and he wasn’t there. And that was only like a minute later. He messaged me this after he left.” You grabbed your phone and opened it up, showing the girls the message and noting their winces in reaction to his words.

“It’s bad, right?”

“No! No, this is salvageable! You just have to… be brave?” Penelope didn’t seem to believe her own words as you pulled your phone back and poured yourself another glass, ready to drown your sorrows once again. Emily was a little more confident.

“Okay. Here’s what you do. I’m going to talk to Rossi for you tomorrow morning at work, get him to hold off on his big reveal while you go and explain everything to Spencer. How does that sound?”

“That sounds doable, I guess.” You sniffled a little, rereading the text having made your emotions jump back up to the surface again as you fought off tears.

“Brilliant. And then you can stay married and continue having wonderful sex, and make some genius babies and make me their godmother.” You threw a pillow at Penelope that she was just too slow to catch, and filled the rest of your evening with wine, ice cream, and good company.

–X–

Emily sends you a thumbs-up text after she talks to Rossi the next morning, and a weight falls off your shoulder. One step down, one to go right?

You’d arrived at work probably a little bit too early, having spent the night tossing and turning and playing every possible outcome in your mind over and over again. It had been half an hour before the next person turned up, and Hotch had only given you a confused half-nod in greeting before secluding himself in his office. Rossi had been the next to arrive, about twenty minutes later, and he too had questioned your presence but not in so many words.

“Early morning, Y/N? Settling into new routines in your newly-wed life, are we?” You’d stuttered out an answer but he was halfway up the stairs by the time you finished, obviously meaning the comment to be rhetorical.

Morgan, Emily, and JJ were all next, showing up only a few minutes before your shift officially started, but there was no sign of Reid, and you were running out of time - and privacy - to talk to him.

Then at 9 sharp the elevator doors opened, and from your seat at your desk, you watched him step out, feeling your tongue grow thick and your heart beat faster as he made his way into the office. This wasn’t how you were supposed to feel, this was cartoonish like a teenage boy in a brat pack movie watching the hottest girl in the school walk down a corridor. This was Spencer, your husband, and your best friend, and here you were feeling giggly and shy.

You almost felt like texting Emily back, telling her if you started giggling and twirling your hair, to take you out back and put you out of your misery.

He didn’t make eye contact with you as he settled into his morning routine, pulling off his scarf, putting his bag away, and then moving to the kitchen to fill up on his morning coffee. You did your best to covertly follow him, trying not to alert the others to your heart eyes as you looked at him and forgot everyone else.

“Spencer, can we talk?” You blocked off the entry to the kitchen as he spun around to face you, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

“Sure, Y/N, what’s up?” His voice didn’t betray any of his emotions, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, and you could tell you’d hurt him the day before. You took a deep breath and walked closer to him as he continued making his coffee, again refusing to look you in the eyes as he continued as normal.

“It’s about yesterday-”

“We probably shouldn’t talk about this here, right?” He cut you off in a whisper, his voice sending shivers down your spine as you gripped the countertop beside him for support. You’d gotten closer than you expected at first, somehow magnetically drawn to him, your body language just as open to him as he was closed to you.

“I think we need to, Spence. I’m sorry, I panicked.”

“No, it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have done that-”

“Spencer I got my memory back.” His eyes widened and he blossomed in front of you again, attention entirely on you now as he took in your words.

“You did?”

“Partially, only the… Only the memories of your hotel room.” His eyes darkened in understanding, moving unconsciously closer to you, placing a hand next to yours on the counter as he effectively trapped your body in.

“Oh. Those memories.”

“Yeah. So you can see why I was a bit distracted.” He nodded at your words, but he was still coming closer to you now. Your body felt weak underneath you, entirely reacting to his closeness, the warmth rolling off his body, the electricity sparking between you despite him not touching you anywhere.

“Distracted?” His eyes darted to your lips as he grew closer, and your legs chose that exact second to give in underneath you.

Your knees hit the ground uncomfortably, as he reacted to your sudden movement, trying to grab you and pull you up, but only managing to grab the hand that was already holding the counter above you, awkwardly twisting and pinning your arm up.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m sorry, I think… I think I should go,” you were face to face with his crotch, and looking up at him in that position was certainly giving you unwholesome thoughts. He jumped back as you scrambled out from underneath him, begging whatever god was out there that none of the profilers you worked with would question the dazed state that would follow you for the rest of the day.

–X–

Despite your need to straighten things out with Spencer, you’d avoided him for the rest of the day, and, having been called out on a case, you spent the better part of the week avoiding him as well. After literally falling for him, you’d decided that maybe in your newly weakened lovesick stage, it was best for everyone on the team that you try to stay as clear-headed as possible.

Not everyone on the team, though, agreed. He’d trailed after you like a lost puppy for days now, and you wanted nothing more than to give in and throw yourself in his arms. But there was a murderer on the loose and you needed to give your entire attention to it.

He’d tried multiple times to get you to help him with some work, suggesting that you go through some files together, or check out one of the witnesses together, much to your discomfort. Luckily, Hotch had picked up on some of the discomfort between the two of you and had kept you somewhat apart, not asking questions.

But the last night on the case, he’d cornered you, and you had to work twice as hard to extricate yourself from the situation.

“Y/N, why are you avoiding me?” He’d caught you alone in the hotel lobby, pulling you into a dark corner without much foot traffic to confront you. “Is it because of the kiss? Because the way you talked about getting your memories back the other day made me think we were okay about that again, but if we’re not then I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not the kiss, Spence, and we really shouldn’t be talking about this here.” You tried to turn and leave, but he grabbed your elbow and spun you back into him, bodies pressed flush up against each other now.

“Spencer let go, someone could see us.” Even you knew your voice sounded half-hearted, not really wanting him to stop touching you at all.

“If it’s not the kiss, then why are you acting like I don’t exist?” His face was close again, and you felt your body reacting the same way it had done in the staff kitchen. Your knees went weak again, but he was prepared this time, holding you up in his arms, gently maneuvering you so you were pinned against the wall.

“Is this it?” He asked, letting his hands trail over your body as you whimpered under his touch. “Your reactions?”

Your brain was empty of a response, so you just held still, desperate to see what he would do or say next.

“You know, the deadline on our annulment has passed. It’s been over a week now,” he said, his forehead resting on yours as he brought his hips ever closer.

You were the one that gave in first, pushing your head up to capture his lips in a crushing kiss, needing him the way you needed water, food, and sleep. You’d deprived yourself for so long, and now you were hungry, ravenous, and he was the same. Your lips opened, and soon his tongue was snaking in, caressing you in ways both familiar and new, and your entire body heated up to its boiling point.

You moaned under his touch as his hands wandered, silently begging for more of him. Your brain only kicked back into gear when you registered the sound of voices about to turn the corner. Quickly pushing him off, you pulled yourself together just as JJ and Morgan found you there.

“Y/N, Reid, Garcia got a positive ID on our unsub, we’re about to go SWAT his house, get your gear ready.”

Either you were very good at masking your emotions and the physical outburst you’d just shared, or Morgan was just too caught up in getting his job done that he didn’t look too closely at the way Reid’s tie was half undone, your lips were pink and swollen and that both of you were breathing abnormally. Whichever it was, you were just thankful that neither of them questioned you as you all left to go and do your job.

–X–

To your detriment, you’d avoided him on the jet back as well, choosing to wrap a blanket around yourself and sit in a single seat at the end of the plane rather than risk his hands on you again like last time. You already couldn’t be trusted around him, and you wanted to take no risks with everyone else present.

He’d sat in your line of vision purposefully though, making eye contact every now and then to remind you that he was still watching you. You’d feigned exhaustion and pretended to sleep in the end, despite the flight duration only being a measly two hours. He’d let you exit the plane alone though, and said a general goodbye to the team upon landing, giving you a second look and wave before taking himself home.

The ball was firmly in your court.

“What the hell was all that?” Emily whispered in your ear as you both watched him leave alone. “What happened to the plan?” You smiled awkwardly, not wanting to admit how fucking horny the man made you feel, and how it was affecting your work performance so badly that avoiding him was the only way to keep your job.

“We had the talk, everything’s fine.”

“The two of you aren’t walking out of here hand in hand, so obviously everything is not fine, Penelope, tell me I’m wrong.” The other woman had stumbled into the bullpen upon landing and Emily had immediately drawn her into your hushed conversation as soon as Morgan had made to go home as well.

“What’s going on, hot stuff, I thought you’d be enjoying every second of your marital bliss by now.”

“He’s too distracting.” You whisper shouted at him. “He kissed me again last night and I almost let him take me in the lobby. And Morgan and JJ almost caught us, so yeah, he’s too distracting.”

“Oh god, you’re horny for Reid.” Emily laughed slightly at the implication as if it had just dawned on her and you hadn’t had an entire conversation where you fawned about how good in bed he was.

“Yes, I’m horny for Reid, okay, now please stop laughing, I’m in pain.”

“Well you know there’s only one solution, right?” Penelope said as if it were clear as day. “You need to go have sex with him again. See if you can be normal with him when you’re not so pent up.”

“I don’t know, Pen….” You were still staring at the elevator doors, even after it had been so long since he’d left.

“What is there to not know? You like him, he likes you, you’re married. Like you said before, it’s not like you’re having sex with a stranger, he’s your husband.” Having your words thrown back in your face gave you the boost of confidence that you needed, and you sprang from your chair.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Emily repeated and you looked back down at the two women.

“Okay, I’m gonna… I’m gonna go seduce my husband, I guess?” You turned on your heel and left, marching out to the sounds of whoops and cheers from the two women behind you.

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid series #criminal minds self insert

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dfortrafalgar · 28 days

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I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

I'm going to say this on every chapter i post here LOL, but GO TO CHAPTER 1 AND READ!!!!! MY!!!!!!! WARNINGS!!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 3

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You loved your office, you really did. Two of your coworkers were your best friends from high school, the work-life balance was ideal, your bosses were super understanding and encouraging of all their employees endeavors, and the weekly catered lunches truly felt like a luxury.

The only qualm was the noise.

The office had an open layout, and while everyone had their own desk, it was very easy to move around the space and talk to everyone while on and off the job. This meant any personal phone calls had to be taken out of the entire vicinity. And in your case, into an unlocked broom closet across the industrial building’s hallway, in front of another agency’s door.

You were sitting on a plastic box containing something you weren’t sure of, anxiously bouncing your feet as your heart hammered in your chest. Each time the ringback tone exited your speakers caused another cold wave of anxiety to flood from your head to the soles of your feet. You swallowed a thick glob of spit as you struggled to maintain your breathing. You were sure your blouse was going to have armpit stains when you returned to your desk.

Finally, a voice picked up the other line.

[Thank you for calling Grand Line Gynecology and Obstetrics, how can I help you today?]

The sweet, welcoming voice of the receptionist on the other end of the line made you breathe a sigh of relief, though you weren’t out of the woods just yet. Far from it. “Hi, uhm, I’m a patient with Dr. Robin, and I was wondering if I would be able to get an appointment as soon as possible.”

A few keyboard clicking noises followed your request.

[Can I have your name and date of birth?]

You quietly relayed your information, biting your lip impatiently. More typing sounds could be heard.

[Alright, Mrs. Trafalgar, and do you mind if I ask the purpose of your visit?]

You knew it was important information for your doctor to know prior to seeing you, but the thought still made a heavy pit develop in your stomach. “Uhm… f-fertility consultation…? I guess.”

More clicking.

[Of course, I’m looking up Dr. Robin’s availability right now, hold on just a moment, please!]

You’ve dealt with crappy phone receptionists in the past, but whoever was usually on the receiving end of your calls to your gynecologist was always so pleasant. You could never quite recognise her voice in person, but her bubbly and patient speech was always greatly appreciated during your otherwise anxious phone calls. Finally, she came back onto the line.

[Dr. Robin’s next available appointment isn’t for three months, unfortunately, but I can still fit you into that time slot if you would like! I can also write your name down, so if any appointments open up sooner, we will give you a call.]

You breathed another sigh of relief. “That would be amazing, thank you.”

[Alright, Mrs. Trafalgar, I have you marked down for Thursday, May 1st at 10:00 AM. We’ll give you a call if anything changes and you can always call us if you develop other concerns, okay?]

You smiled at the broom closet floor. “I appreciate it, thank you very much.” The phone clicked off after trading goodbyes, your arm falling onto your lap. You hadn’t realized how tight you were gripping your phone until then, your hand trembling with how harsh your hold was on the device. With a sigh, you opened your text conversation with Law.

Hi baby, I just called the obgyn, they cant fit me in until may 1st but she said if anything opens up theyll call me back. Fingers crossed something opens up sooner, hopefully you dont have to wait as long! I’ll see you later, i love youuuuu ^3^

You put your phone to sleep and stuffed it into the pocket of your trousers as you finally exited the broom closet. An employee of the agency across from yours was entering his office and tossed you a very confused glance at you leaving the innocuous room, but you paid him no mind as you walked back into your office to continue your work.

“There you are, I was wondering where you went!” Ikkaku was waiting for you at your desk with her work laptop in hand. “I wanted to go over a few designs with you, but when I went to find you, you were just, POOF! Gone like the wind!”

You laughed at her excited talking, finally sitting at your desk again and grabbing an unoccupied chair for your friend to sit in. “Sorry to make you wait, I had to take a phone call.”

Ikkaku brushed off having to wait with a cheery, “It’s fine! No biggie!” before opening her laptop and inputting her passcode. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. While Ikkaku was opening her files, you slipped out your device and tapped the screen.

Baby~~<3

Hopefully something opens up, but it’s good that you at least got an appointment. I got my appointment with urology on my lunch break today. We’re making steps. I love you, see you later.

You smiled at the text.

“Why does Law need to see a urologist?” Ikkaku whispered beside you, making you jump and hide your screen. She was looking at you with curiosity in her big, brown eyes.

“It’s nothing, really.” You quickly shoved your phone back into your pocket. Ikkaku was your best friend, she really was, but the last thing you wanted to do was bring up your potential infertility issues while on the clock, and especially while your anxieties were still fresh and raw at the forefront of your brain.

Ikkaku must have sensed your profound fear, as she shrugged and turned her attention back to her laptop. “So here’s what I was drafting…”

—

While you had to wait around three months for your appointment, Law’s was scheduled shockingly quick. Almost too quick for his liking. The following week. Which, to Law’s mutual discomfort and relief, came much quicker than he thought it would.

He was thanking the heavens above that he had the day off for once.

Law followed all the rules to a T before the appointment. No ejaculation 2-3 days prior, but no longer than 5. He’d jerk off into a sterile cup in the clinic, hand that to the doctor, and wait a few hours. While waiting, he’d get his hormone blood work collected. Easy as pie. He walked into the clinic feeling oddly confident in himself and his abilities to follow pre-procedure protocol, as a doctor himself. The brief moment of cocky joy was interrupted as soon as the fertility doctor entered the examination room Law was sitting in.

“Alriiiight! Mr. Trafalgar Law!” The doctor was shouting his name before even closing the door, making the black-haired man cringe. The nametag on the open laboratory-style coat he wore read ‘Dr. Franky.’ Next to the name tag was a little enamel pin of a robot. The door was closed with a moderate slam. “You’re that cardiologist from New World Hospital, right? You’re crazy popular, so cool to see you in the clinic! So we’re here to check on your little swimmers, huh?” Dr. Franky, who was shockingly tall and very broad in the shoulders, plopped into his seat and placed his laptop on the counter in front of him.

The force of him sitting on the stool caused the pneumatic tube to compress forcefully downwards. Law had a mental image in his head of the tube exploding and propelling the spring upward into the doctor’s ass. He barely even registered the fact that his reputation as the city’s leading cardiothoracic surgeon seemed to have followed him to his semen analysis appointment. He shook his head quickly before nodding. “Uh, yeah, semen analysis.”

Dr. Franky was rapidly typing in whatever patient portal he was using. “Semen analysis is such an uppity thing to call it, I personally like calling it the Super Swimming Meet!” He laughed, the voice echoing around the small room and making Law wince. He finally finished typing, slamming his laptop closed. It was then Law noticed a few pieces of scotch tape holding the laptop’s hinges together. (What kind of clinic is this?) Franky’s booming voice interrupted Law’s thoughts. “All you have to do is wank off into this cup here. Cap it tightly and bring it to the nurse’s station when you’re done and it’ll get sent off into the lab!”

Law carefully took the cup from the doctor, his face heating up in embarrassment. “Uhm… thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with before I leave you to it?”

Law wanted to ask if there was a different room he should be doing this in, or if handing the cup to a random nurse was proper protocol, but he honestly wanted nothing more than to get out of there as quickly as possible. He was starting to regret his colleagues at the hospital giving him clinic recommendations. “Uhh… no thank you, I think that’s everything.”

“Alright, Mr. Trafalgar, I’ll let you get to it!” Dr. Franky left fairly quickly, much to Law’s relief. His ears were still ringing with the volume of the doctor’s voice.

Law was now left alone, sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair, holding the empty sterile plastic cup. After that interaction, the last thing he was thinking of doing was masturbating, but he needed to get it over with. For your sake, and his.

He awkwardly stood and undid his belt, letting his pants and boxers fall to the floor before placing a few napkins onto the plastic chair and sitting back down. He shivered at the cold feeling of the napkin-covered chair against his bare ass. This was the least erotic situation he could’ve ever experienced. He figured it would be far from the norm, but this was beyond any expectation he could’ve developed. He shivered.

Grabbing the cup again, Law unscrewed the cap just enough so that he’d be able to pop it open as soon as he needed to. When he stared at his flaccid dick, however, he uttered a defeated sigh.

‘Think of something to get you hard, man, think of your wife,’ he told himself. Even his inner voice was desperate.

The sterile doctor’s office was completely inhibiting any thoughts of you to remain permanent in his head. Every time he tried to think of your smell, your taste, the feeling of your bare flesh against his fingers, he would inhale and take in the bland stench of sterile alcohol and plastic. He groaned.

Reaching into his pants pocket on the floor, he procured his phone. Opening an incognito window on his web browser, he inwardly apologized to you (and double checked that the door was locked) before opening up a porn website for the first time since he was an undergrad in college.

—

Law came home a few hours after you. You were standing at the stove setting the oven preheat temperature, a loaf pan of uncooked banana bread sitting on the stove top waiting to bake. You turned to ask how his appointments went, but kept your mouth shut when you saw Law kick his shoes off and sit at the bar counter in your kitchen, placing his head in his hands.

“What happened?” you hurried over to him, immediately growing anxious that he had received bad news. Your stomach turned.

He lifted his head. “I… I had to watch porn today.”

#trafalgar law x reader #fem reader #law x reader #reader insert #x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar law #one piece x reader #op x reader #im losing you

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1000sunnygo · 2 months

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One Piece 1093

//long post, manga spoilers ahead

Congratulations to Law for his second time trending as "Law's female form" and congrats to Kamiya Hiroshi too for trending alongside him!! (her?)

I have no doubt that Law's role would always be special to Kamiya. The way he strained his voice to raise his pitch to a new high made my throat sore on his behalf..... But I liked it more than I expected! I could feel in my bones that it was an uncomfortable transformation Law wanted to free himself from as soon as possible bwahahah

I like the anime original dialogue とにかく、ヤベぇ！(tonikaku, yabee!) Even with my crap japanese it was as hilarious as hearing him say "Anyway, I'm cooked!" I don't think Law uses the term "Yabee" a lot so that felt refreshing lol

It seems the more controversial quote was this one, the speech in Japanese would be literally translated to "my strength isn't coming out as usual". Personally, I didn't immediately associate it to weakness due to being woman but moreso as an additional side affect that came with it, after all, it's dubbed as a disease. I like to think Doc Q didn't only come up with it as a deranged fantasy but to impose a real handicap for the victim to have their body modified in a way that limits their ability to fight and use their usual powers, either due to magic or just out of discomfort. Unlike Ivankov's fruit that alters hormones, it's just a physical change, it makes sense why it's more unnatural and uncomfortable.

The female Law scene was animated by Yuu Yoshiyama, he also did Hancock's scene from Amazon Lilly invasion episode. The scene was fanservicey but thankfully not as over the top as the Bonney scene from few episode prior to this one. The episode didn't drag on even during the slower parts, the screentime was well spent. The obnoxious, repetitive closed up reaction shots weren't there.

Moving on to B part, nothing much to speak of Ishizuka's brilliant storyboard that hasn't been said. My favorite observation was this:

Some parts where characters didn't immediately follow up with a second attack was frustrating until I remembered Blackbeard and Law both put their lives on line when they use their fruit and so can't take risks. Cheaper trick shots and silly gimmicks that people blame Law for not using more frequently were probably never the best option. That said, unfortunately, Law lost the moment he used both his strongest attacks onscreen and failed. I don't think the fight was longer than what we saw here. The anime just made it more obvious.

Another anime original dialogue I liked is Blackbeard saying "what a handy ability you've got!" right before their final clash. He was using Tremor fruit until that point and then he switched to his OG attacks, it was unsettling how he's not only fighting but looking at Law's abilities as something that he'll soon take away from him. Unlike Doflamingo, Teach had no pre-decided plan involving Law's fruit and considered selling the fruit as appealing alternate as using it for its abilities. Honestly, we can't underestimate Doflamingo's knowledge. There's no way he stays in prison during the final arc.

And finally the Kuzan scene,,

rightfully the most praised section and probably my favorite part of the episode too. According to his tweet, Henry Thurlow animated the Kuzan scene traditionally on paper. Let's give Toei credit where it's due; they let their animators take time, be creative and love their work. Otherwise we wouldn't get scenes like this.

And that's it! The first (and the last?) time we see Heart pirates in proper action. Ch. 1081 is only ~17 chapters away. Hopefully we'll see it animated around the middle of this year. Hopefully Law's current condition in the manga is updated by then, otherwise it'll be very painful.

Twice already. Petition to let Pandaman become an official member of heart pirates.

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar d. water law #marshall d. teach #one piece blackbeard #fem law #one piece meta #one piece anime #one piece manga spoiler #one piece episode 1093 #kamiya hiroshi #mine #heart pirates #blackbeard pirates #pandaman #kuzan

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chrollohearttags · 7 months

Text

reverb • chapter nine

synopsis: following his talk with Armin, Eren decides to channel his energy into something more positive but finds that getting back into the groove of creating is a lot harder than expected. Luckily, a much needed visit from a familiar face and someone very dear to him helps get the rapper back on track. But will he be met with warmth and words of encouragement or incredibly tough love? A confrontation between him and the fiancé of his scorned best friend takes place as well, where the pissed off rockstar has some choice words for the equally disgruntled EJ. How will Eren respond? Meanwhile, (y/n) uses her vacation time to rest, reflect and return to her roots. A lot of her past is revealed, including the reason for her sudden shift in mood at the airport. While back home, the budding star decides to pay a visit to her old stomping grounds, where she asks for advice from a trusted loved one. But what message awaits her and will she take heed? Also, the day of the infamous yacht party arrives and Armin, the gracious host invites both his best friend and (y/n). Who hadn’t seen one another in weeks so tensions are high and very awkward. That is until an incident brings the pair closer together than before. Will they be able to reconcile or has time and distance dwindled that lustful passion?

content warning: flashbacks, smut mentions, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, mentions of spirituality/tarot/astrology, depression, mental health, alcohol use, implied sex, lots of humor

word count: 12.3K (long as hell, I know!)

“You have to find something you cherish and pour your heart into it, otherwise, it’s all pointless..”

📝: here’s to hoping that I can get back to much more frequent and consistent uploads because boy do I miss this story! And I hope you all do too. I appreciate everyone for sticking around and showing this series so much love. It won’t be going anywhere any time soon. 💖

previous chapter >>> next chapter

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eighteen years ago…

“Now you gotta put a little more flour in there. You want ‘em to bake up just right…and stir it real good. Think you can do that?”

“Yesmaam, I got it, gwanny.”

“That’s my girl! Alright, and while we let ‘em bake, we can get this kitchen cleaned up. Can’t enjoy cookies with mess everywhere now, can we?”

“No ma’am! We don’t want yucky stuff everywhere.”

“That’s right! You know Grandma loves you, sweet pea.”

“I love you too, Gwanny…”

“I love you too….—

present day

the words that had been spoken during (y/n)’s deep slumber began to trail off into reality as you awoke from unconsciousness. Shooting up from the mattress as you called out to the person who was so far away. Unbeknownst, you had been doing this every single night since returning home from Texas. Three days had passed since the beginning of your month-long vacation and you had already slept through a majority of them. From the bathroom straight back to bed, with a small snack in between. An endless bout of depression you were struggling to come out of. But that’s how this time of year always went…you’d wallow and sulk, cry for hours on end until you exhausted yourself. It was a brutal and vicious cycle but hopefully, with a little help, you’d snap out of it. At least that’s what your best friend was hoping for when she all but broke into your apartment this morning and began cooking breakfast..something you weren’t aware of until you smelled the aroma of breakfast foods...along with another delectable item. The fragrant scent was so unique, you knew there was only one other person who could’ve created it, seeing as how the first one was long gone. “That’s—wait!”

hopping out of bed..bonnet and a large sleeping shirt were the only things that you were sporting as you wiped the remaining crust from your eyes and darted for the kitchen. It was there you’d spot someone sporting similar clothing with music playing and a stack of food displayed on the countertop. Bacon, eggs, grits and the most surprising? A pile of your Grandma’s famous blueberry biscuits. A recipe that has been in your family for generations! They were your favorite and every Sunday, after church, your granny would have a fresh batch waiting for you to pair with her incredible fried chicken and Mac and cheese. It was so nostalgic! However..you wanted to know what prompted all of this..

“Good morning, sunshine…you slept okay?” Niesha, with that charming, little southern accent. Her voice is light and soothing as summer rain and that gorgeous smile of hers even without a single drop of makeup on. Her natural hair styled into fingerwaves and wrapped in a silk durag, matching the PJ’s she was wearing. It was like being fresh out of high school all over again and you spent nights at her house. Staying up all night after work and dreaming about making it into a better situation. It seems that you guys had manifested this dream life and it was all coming to fruition. Sadly, at the height of it all, you fell into depression yet again. But alas, your best friend was here to pull you out of it. Scratching your eyes free of the sleep crusting around it, you took a seat at the kitchen counter in one of the barstools as she slid you a glass of orange juice. “Yeah, it was fine...Nie Nie, did you stay here all night?” your brow furrowing in concern as you took a sip but as always, she was playing coy and being cute. She wasn’t going to admit that she had watched you struggle and sob in your sleep as you called out to your grandmother. That was only after you had drank yourself silly..which was completely out of character. But it was to be expected and she’d stick beside you for as long as you needed her. Twenty something years of sisterhood and she damn sure wasn’t about to give it up now. Trying to downplay the whole thing, she just tried to change the subject and pretend the reason for her extended stay was some other reason.

“Yeah, you know my man was supposed to come through last night but he got on my damn nerves again so now I got him on punishment.” to which you’d just giggle and try not to laugh too hard because her and this supposed man were not even in a relationship nor did they have any business together. Friends with benefits and a whole heap of drama. “You and Armin are still messing around, huh? I could’ve sworn you said you was done with his ass last week. Or was that before he brought you that new Van Cleef you’re wearing anddd that new Birkin?” making your best friend nervously cackle and scratch the back of her head. “Chileee, did I say that? Girl, you know I just be talking, you can’t pay me no attention.” The two of you were joking and playing around, which seemed to lift you in much higher spirits than before. As long as you were smiling, that was a good sign for your dear Niesha. “Anyways, enough about meee..are you feeling alright this morning, boo? Had me a lil’ scared there for a minute.” questioning now that you seemed to be in a much lighter headspace, sober and more than likely, better equipped to answer to now. Truthfully, you were still a little down and it wasn’t necessarily because you were grieving but because at the moment, you were feeling a little directionless. Right before you guys came home, you got more devastating news..but as you were preparing to delve into it, she’d hand you your plate along with a tall glass of orange juice and insist you eat before you upset yourself again and became ill. You’d thank her before divulging all of the details.

“So you know I’ve been trying to get Granny’s house back from that bitch who took it and the state, right? Well..I had a meeting with my lawyer and he said they denied the motion to move forward with the case. Saying that she legally has control and it was signed over to her so there’s nothing I can do.” Feeling a hard lump in the back of your throat as you spoke the words out in the open. Now that you were saying it aloud, the shit hurt worse. Honestly, it was your biggest motivator for getting money and maintaining a life of notoriety. In your mind, you figured that if you obtained pretty substantial wealth and possibly enough status, you could get the best lawyers money could buy and snatch your childhood home back. Now it all felt in vain..

You were seventeen years old during the untimely passing of your grandmother from cancer..fresh out of high school without a clue about the world and nothing to your name. The only saving grace was the fact that you had her house she’d promised you since childhood in the event that something happened to her..or so you thought. As if losing the only guardian and family you’d ever known wasn’t enough, another hard blow came when you were forcefully evicted by the state only three weeks later and told that the rightful owner would be moving in. That person? Your granny’s caretaker. The middle aged woman in the pink scrubs and bright yellow Crocs who would always greet you when you came home from school..smiling in your face and being so friendly as your sweet granny lay on her deathbed. Only for that evil bitch to pull the dirty stunt of making her change her will when her mind began to deteriorate. It was a rotten trick but a legal one and there was nothing that you, a child without a red cent to show could do about it. To add to fate’s cruel sick joke, you then turned eighteen and because of that, you were too old for foster care. Technically an adult but feeling like a frightened little girl inside, you wandered the streets for weeks. Sleeping out of the car she left behind, trying to work during the day and stay safe at night. You were so scared and would cry for hours until you fell asleep in the backseat. It wasn’t until Niesha got wind of the situation and slapped the dog shit out of you for not saying something sooner. Then right afterwards, invited you to stay at her house. It was small and she had a younger sister, as well as her mom but they welcomed you with open arms.

“We’re family, baby. You like a third daughter to me and I knew your granny for a long time. We gon’ make sure you are alright.”

A direct quote from Ms. Candice Daniels, Niesha’s mom and the matriarch of the close knit little unit of three..however, you couldn’t intrude for long and as much as you appreciated the hospitality, you had to figure out a plan for your life. Ironically enough, your saving grace came in the form of a family member who had just gotten out of jail and who also played a huge role in you choosing to do pole professionally and deciding to pursue a career in entertainment. Someone who’d be reentering your world pretty soon.

“You know what? I had a feeling it had something to do with that and I’m so sorry, baby. I know you wanted it back.” Niesha, who was eating as well, reached across the counter and grasped your hands in hopes to comfort you. Even though she had already gone above and beyond, she still felt helpless and wished she could help. But she did have a bit of information that would possibly lift your spirits and possibly help you gain insight now that you were back home.. “But if it’ll make you feel better..your Uncle Bam came by real early this morning to drop off these biscuits..he said if they didn’t make you smile, he didn’t know what would.” Hence the pungent smell of butter and blueberries hitting your nose upon waking up. He was the only other person in this world with that recipe and skill to cook them. Although Niesha knew her way around the kitchen, it would take years to get that mastered. Seeing you beam in excitement at the name, she’d continue to share the rest of his message. “He also said for you to come see him today once you woke up and got moving. That he could sense that your energy was off and that he may have something to help you.” Releasing a sigh as well as a laugh, (y/n) nodded whilst taking a sip of juice. “Yep, that sounds like Unc. Lord, what does this man want now?” Playfully rolling your eyes and continuing to finish your food. As reluctant as you were, you knew he could help you through whatever. He had become somewhat of a…’spiritual advisor’ to those in the community in his later years. As gifted as he was with the ability to help others, your uncle was a bit of an eccentric. Even so, you loved him dearly and he was the only blood relative you had..or maintained contact with at least. If it weren’t for him and his partner, who knows what you’d be doing right now..

“I think you should go visit him. Get out of this house and talk to somebody. You’d rather pull teeth than go see a therapist so maybe he can figure out what you need.” And truthfully, she had a suggestion of her own that could help shift your mood and it’d involve a certain someone who had been responsible for your happiness in the past month or so. Even if you refused to admit it..

“Speaking of getting out of the house..Armin’s hosting a lil’ yacht party this weekend and he wants us to come. Said that he would love to have you there since you’re my boo and all. He wants to meet you since you missed out on the first function.” you'd listen to Niesha speak, trying to continuously sweeten the pot.. “..Really? He told you that?” “Yes he did and said that EJ would be there too.” which made your eyebrow furrow in response because if it was one thing you knew and two damn things for certain..

“I think y’all both full of it. That man doesn't come outside for nobody..especially no damn parties unless he’s getting paid.” Truthfully, they couldn’t deny that. He was very reclusive and didn’t really care to be mingling or out mixing among the crowd. That was, of course, outside of his one exception. “But he flew all the way to Texas just to see your ass so if you show up, he will too. Even so, you couldn’t be sure if you were ready to see him quite yet. After all, it had been almost two weeks since you guys last saw each other or even spoke. A lot had transpired in your personal lives and neither of you felt it right to involve the other in your problems. Hence the radio silence from each of your end. You and EJ had a lot of fun together, you couldn’t lie. Being in a relationship wasn’t plausible at the moment though. But it seemed as if your meddling best friends were determined to play matchmaker and get their ship to sail..no pun intended! “Ion know, Niesh..I mean, I’m really not up for all that right now. We just got back off tour and I’m exhausted. Miss Ackerman’s got me booked for a couple gigs, and I have a meeting with Mr. Smith too so I just don’t know— “you mean my sis, Mika? Yeah, her and Jean are coming too. We actually hung out when you were gone and bitch, she is sum’ else.” “For real? What did y’all talk about?” and of course, you were the topic of discussion. About how hard working you were but that they wish you’d rest. How you first met her and how you were her favorite client. She said that you were so sweet and that she wished all of her talents were as good as her ‘precious (y/n)’. “That and the fact that she’d be praying for Niesha because Armin was as bad as it could get. “I told her not to worry ‘cause I’mma do his ass worst if he keeps playing with me.” You were just shocked that your best friend and manager had become so close in your absence while you were in Cali. Which may have been due to the fact that not only was she your best friend but she was the only one of Armin’s women that she got along with. Niesha had a very high, infectious energy that made anyone love her. It got you wondering how EJ would react to her if the chance ever arose for the two of them to meet…. “So you all in the family now, huh? Guess I missed a lot.” Causing her to burst into her signature cackle and bop your nose.

“That’s right. So you two hermits have no excuse. You’re off the clock, you’re on vacation so enjoy it. Two people who are so busy trying to create a ‘dream life’ can’t even stop to live it. Besides, if I don’t return you to the group all happy and refreshed, them hoes gon’ jump me. They made me promise I’d look out for you so I want you to have a good time. Can you do me that one favor..please? It’s not easy seeing my sis all sad. I love you, (y/n). And I just want you to be good.” Just then, your heart would flutter and your resolve would soften. You could tell that Niesha, your uncle, even Brianne, Kelly and Syrai, despite being states away, all cared for you deeply. So the best thing you could do for them was try and make the best of this beautiful life you were given. As much as you had hoped to return to your childhood home, if for nothing else..properly say goodbye and get that closure..it was your past and you could never move forward if you kept dwelling on it. Reaching over, you’d wrap Niesha in a giant hug and the two of you shared a sentimental moment. “Oh, Nie Nie. I love you too, pookie. I’m sorry for being so down all the time. I didn’t even realize how I was affecting everybody else. You know what? Starting today, I’m getting out of this house. I’m done crying.” which elated Niesha because tears did not suit your pretty face. Flashing you yet another smile, your best friend extended her arm so that you guys could initiate your little secret handshake before pulling you into yet another embrace. The bond you two shared was incomparable. But for now, it was time that you guys parted ways. “Good! I’mma go take a shower and then I’m up outta here. Text me when you get back home, we can go out to eat or sum’.” You couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved, knowing that your tribe was as strong as ever now. You were in good hands for sure.

“Alright. What you getting into today?” and the better question may have been what was about to get into her. Looking back at you with her tongue extended, Niesha was more than enthused to fill you in. “Oh me? I’m going to go see my boyfriend. He was in the playoffs game this weekend and he came back to Miami today.” Now, it was no secret that Niesha was by far the most promiscuous of your friends group and she kept her options wide open but dating a producer one day and seeing a basketball player the next was insane. She obviously had her hands full so you’d give her a bit of relief by getting up and taking care of yourself. “Girl, ion know what I’mma do with you.” “Pray for me. That’s what you can do.” Causing the two of you to burst into laughter. But you had to say, regardless, it felt good to have someone around that made you feel much lighter. For now, you’d follow up on your earlier promise of going to go see your uncle. And hopefully gain a little clarity on your situation.

“I feel you, Granny. I know you’re with me but I don’t think you need to worry anymore. Still..what is that you wanna tell me? What do you need me to know?”

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Unbeknownst to you though, you weren’t the only one hoping to gain some insight and get some help in your life right now. Although, you were probably a bit more perceptive to getting said assistance than the man you were seeing a short while ago. After sleeping in far longer than normal for what was probably the third day in a row, Eren found himself awoken to beaming sunshine and an empty bed, only surrounded by crinkled sheets and an empty Crown bottle near his pillow. Another long night of working on projects and downing liquor to drown out any intrusive thoughts that may have plagued his mind. From impending court dates to online chatter, he wanted to shut all of it out. 12:15PM displayed across the top of his iPhone screen as he rolled over and wiped his eyes. He figured there was no sense in lying here any longer and pretending to be asleep. Instead, he’d position to the side of the bed, step into his house slippers and stretch before heading towards the bathroom to perform his normal morning routine. Brushing his teeth, washing his face and getting ready for the day ahead. Or what was left of it rather…after a warm shower and getting his long locks styled into a half up, half down style and finally shaving that mustache and stubble that had begun to form, Eren felt like a new man. Now he was ready to take on any and everything…or so the hard working artist thought! Truthfully, it was that motivation and desire to curate something incredible that had driven him to a third night of drinking and producing. Sure, he was having fun with the whole process and having his friends over had put him in much lighter spirits but when it was all said and done, he was no more satisfied with what he was hearing than when he started. It was frustrating! However, his saving grace may have been coming a lot sooner than he thought..finishing up his morning routine and gathering his bearings, Eren took a look in the mirror along with a deep sigh before heading out.

He’d make his way downstairs, shuffling in those slippers and sweats down the stairs to be greeted by one of his housekeepers, and truthfully, a woman who was like family to him. “Oh, good morning, Mr. Jaeger. Glad to see you’re feeling better.” An older lady with salt and pepper hair and the sweetest southern accent he’d heard. She saw Eren like a son and took care of him accordingly but she also stayed on his case just the same. An angel on earth if he’d ever seen one and the best damn cook in the world. His very first time trying the delicacies known as soul food was by her hands and he damn near cried it was so good. As always, the two would exchange a hug.. “Good morning, miss Gloria. Sorry, I was a little busy last night so I didn’t get to say bye..” chatting as the pair made their way to the kitchen, where she’d offer to make him breakfast but he’d have to skip out on that delicious meal today because he was determined to make his new hit or die trying!

“You sure, baby? I can make somethin’ real quick. Can’t be working on an empty stomach.”

“I appreciate it, Miss Gloria. But I’ll be fine. This’ll do for now. I’m going to be in the music room for a little bit before I head out to the studio.” declaring as he retrieved a green smoothie and granola bar from the fridge. He knew that one of the key components to getting that perfect song but being a workhorse in general was nourishing his body. Or so it was what he was told! His mentor would kick his ass if she knew he was downing Dusse like water and smoking like a chimney. She told him that his voice wouldn’t be worth two farts in the wind if he kept that up. Unfortunately for EJ, he wouldn’t have to wait to be subjected to those lashings again..as Miss Gloria had a tidbit of information that she neglected to share with him. “Oh yeah! Eren honey, there was sum’ I forgot to tell you.” Before she could disclose said information, he was walking off, staring down at his phone; responding to a text about some upcoming projects he had been requested to work on. It was as he was rounding the corner to the open foyer where his grand piano was stationed did he hear..and see a sight that he was not prepared for. It was the notes for one of his earliest tracks, a song that wasn’t about violence or drugs but not the most tame either and yet, it was the most beautiful rendition he had ever heard. Only one person could take such a song and transform it this way..

“It’s about time you woke up. I would’ve had you doing vocal runs for an hour back in the day for showing up this late.”

That person was none other than five time Grammy-winning singer, songwright and the woman who taught the EJ that the world loved now, everything he knew when it came to composing; Vivian James-Ackerman. Some of his biggest hits were arrangements composed with her assistance. Oftentimes dubbed the Queen of Neo Soul, rivaling the likes of Erykah Badu, Ari Lennox and Lauryn Hill, Vivian James made some of the most sultry and vulgar lyrics sound like silk and her alluring presence had captivated the hearts of many, including her long time sweetheart and former musical rival, the AMG president himself, Levi Ackerman. Whilst taking some time away before the release of what could very well be her last album, the songstress decided to take a role at her husband’s company and her label as his creative director. So who better to help him derive inspiration and regain focus than the woman who helped kickstart it all. Seeing as how she was his biggest advocate and the one who landed him his audition with AMG years ago. Vivian never lost faith in her protege and she wasn’t about to start now. Even if his spark had dwindled a bit, his fire was far from being put out. As far as she was concerned, he had work to do!

“Aunt Vi!” akin to that of a little child seeing a long distant relative, he’d come over and embrace her. In her eyes, he was still that sixteen year old boy who came to Miami without so much as a single dollar to his name, determined to make it. That’s who he was doing this for..

“Eren, sweetheart. I’m so happy to see you. I feel like it’s been ages. How’ve you been?” That was a question he barely wanted to answer. He was certain that everyone in the world had gotten wind of his recent arrest and his fight with Mikasa was probably all the talk behind closed doors at AMG right now. So she probably already knew the real answer. Even so, his response was: “I’m doing okay. Just been a little tired.” Taking a seat next to Vivan and a sip of his drink before she turned to the side to face him. She knew better than that and before she left here, she was going to make certain that he did better than just a measly ‘okay’. Furrowing her eyebrow, Vivian, leaned back and swallowed a lump in her throat before proposing her next question. “A little tired, huh? Well a little birdy told me that you’ve had quite the week. Care to elaborate?” Which was secretly code for ‘I already know the full story and truth so you might as well tell me anyways’. And so, he’d begin to explain how when he came back from Houston, he found his driveway swarmed with reporters, one of whom decided to dent his brand new car, which made him flip out. It was that little outburst that landed him with a nice little mugshot that was circulating the internet; spreading like wildfire on Tik Tok and Twitter..causing his fangirls and simps alike to fawn over the dark hair, smile and narrowed eyes. He had gone viral for his looks just as much as his music, which wasn’t shocking..but as if getting arrested wasn’t enough. He then found out the reason for said arrest and swarm of crazed paps at his door was one of his very own best friends.

“I see.”

the only words she uttered before suddenly winding her hand back and smacking Eren upside his head shortly thereafter. To say he was taken aback by her sudden hit, that was an understatement!

“Ow! What the hell, Aunt Vi?! Why’d you do that?”

and the answer was quite simple. Because somebody, anybody needed to knock some sense in that big ass, empty skull of his. And there was no one more fit to do so than her. Seeing as how his mom was all the way in Jersey and couldn’t lay hands to him, she’d make certain to keep him well disciplined in her absence, even if he was a grown man!

“Because, Eren!..you’re always acting without thinking. I mean, honestly. Canceling on an important meeting like that last minute? What is wrong with you? We all thought you had gotten sick again and here you are gallivanting and acting like a damn teenager.” Taken aback by his mentor’s response, EJ merely scoffed at the idea that he had any wrongdoing in the situation. “I don’t understand why you’re mad at me. She’s the one that caused all of this in the first place. Why not just come talk to me like an adult. We’re best friends..” amidst his rambling, Eren would come to a realization that it took repeating aloud to truly understand. Among the complete irony in his statement as well. Here he was griping about concise communication yet it was his lack thereof that caused Mika to make the drastic decision to allow that article to be published. Sulking into his seat, he’d continue on talking..”..have been for as long as I can remember. We used to tell each other everything and when it came to my music, she always supported me. She’d listen in on all my recording sessions, give me feedback. Even though being an artist wasn’t her thing, she loved music. Her voice is still insane after all this time. She knew music..now it just feels like she’s only concerned about meeting a deadline or getting her next big break. Didn’t realize how much this industry changes people..even the ones you love..” It was then that Vivian would offer her input, caressing his back as he sat there, staring blankly ahead with a hand tucked underneath his chin.

“That’s because you guys aren’t kids anymore. Honey, there comes a time in all of our lives when we have to do things we don’t want to. I’m sure she’d kill to sit up in the studio with you and everyone else, partying and making songs. But I’m sure she’d love it even more if she didn’t have to chase you to the ends of the earth just to do her job. She’s got a ton of pressure on her shoulders as not just the head of PR..but as a daughter, a niece, a soon to be wife. Eren, sweetheart, her priorities are different now and if you’re truly her friend, you’ll respect that. Was she wrong with how she went about it? Absolutely and she has to reflect on that if she wants to keep her position but I don’t think she’s the only one that needs to do some soul searching.” Honestly, there was no way that he could attest that. `It was true..they were all grown up now so there was no room for childish feelings and antics. Her actions were only a result of the selfishness he had displayed. Scratching his ear, Eren would just release a loud sigh and shrug his shoulders once more. “Yeah, yeah..I get it.” Confessing as he stood from his seat and stared out towards the window. Her words were always so deep and meaningful..much like the lyrics to her songs. The messages in her music were meant to resonate with the soul, even if you couldn't comprehend them. She applied the same to how she spoke to others. Her spiritual persona was more than a ruse to sell albums..this was how she was.

“So what do I do? I mean, it’s not like my inspiration is just gonna come out of thin air. I can’t make an album overnight.”

maybe so but he knew as well as she did that no one was asking for such an impossible feat. The only thing they wanted was for him to try...just then, the notes of a very familiar melody began to sound out from the piano, along with Vivian’s unmistakable and mellifluous melody. A sound that was untouchable by her peers and beyond. And a very familiar song..one that the two would sing all the time during his younger days. When they were finishing up a show for the seasoned veteran, she'd ask to hear him play. Many times, it was to gauge his vocal capabilities but others? She just truly loved bonding with him over music and the fact that he had the willingness to learn. At first, he was hesitant and didn’t feel like doing so but this song always brought him a sense of comfort and peace..it made him happy. “C’mon, sing with me.” Without uttering a word outside of the lyrics, the two would begin to belt out the tune as Eren slowly shuffled back towards the bench. Eventually, he’d sit back down and tilt his head over onto her shoulder as they finished out the verse. There was something so serene about just belting your heart out with someone you loved dearly..

“There’s my EJ.” Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, Vivian leaned over and placed a gentle peck to Eren’s temple and it brought him immense warmth. Having that motherly and familial love always kept him grounded. “No matter how long you take or what path you go down, I’ll always be proud of you. Everyone will. This is a marathon, not a race. You go at your own speed, and when you’re ready..you go make this album your bitch.” which brought forth a hearty laugh from EJ, who was in much higher spirits and much more motivated. “Thank you, Aunt Vi.” But there were still two obvious elephants in the room. One being..

“Now..about this young lady you’ve been seeing…” and it was in that moment that Eren would simply roll his eyes and continue nursing his shake. It was the last thing he wanted to address, especially when he hadn’t spoken to said young lady in some days. And the fact that Vivian was in on the whole ordeal had just made it worse. Of course, he should’ve known that his mentor would be the very person that Mikasa would go and cry to.

“I don’t know what or who you’re talking about. I’m single.” What he should’ve known is that playing coy wasn’t going to work on someone who knew him as well as his own mom did. Eyeing his entire frame, Vivian placed a hand underneath her chin and offered up a smug grin in the process. “Oh for real?…so I guess the name (y/n) means nothing, huh?” The sheer mention of your name invokes an almost automatic smile on his features. Immediately, his eyes lit up and a faint smirk appeared..hell, even the memories of you guys’ shared time together began to plague his mind..that was until he snapped out of his trance! “Yes, exactly. I mean..it’s not like I don’t care about her or anything. She’s literally perfect, probably the only girl who’s had my attention but you know me..I don’t chase anyone. Besides, I haven’t even heard from her in a while. She’s probably long moved on by now. And I can’t blame her..shit, who wants to be attached to somebody who can’t stay out of trouble?” But just as Armin had told him, your absence had nothing to do with that. Trust, you had thought about him just as heavily but there was no way you were in the mental state to see him, less known behave like the girl he had seen in Texas.

“Y’know..sometimes, I think you’re your own biggest enemy, Eren. I mean, cut yourself some slack, kid. It was one screw up and an invoked one at that. Listen, stop using this as a crutch to not confront your feelings. You rather sulk than to face shit and get it done. If you truly want this music thing to work, to shut your critics up or even get the girl you want, you gotta stop looking for an excuse in everything. “Someone who stays in trouble” please..she knew you had that mile long rap sheet when she met you at the club opening and still liked your ass. You wanna see her again, don’t you?” The very obvious question needed no answer but she wanted to hear him say it. She was absolutely correct..Eren would rather run and not be vexed under the guise of not giving a fuck because it didn’t require any effort but this time, that wasn’t going to fly. Either he confronted this or it would all slip from his grasp, including you. That decade-long music career he sacrificed it all for, his fame, his happiness..he was the only thing standing in the way of that!

“..yes, I wanna see her.” “And you want to continue making music as well, right?” Receiving a nod shortly after..Vivian would close down the piano cover and slowly stand from her seat. Her work here was done and completed as far as she was concerned. But there was one more thing that needed to be said..

“Then go get it. Don’t stop until you have everything you want. You owe that much to yourself. God, it’s just like talking to that damn boss of yours. Levi used to do the same thing. Always looking for an excuse not to care about something. Pouring all his energy into work and a little bit into everything else, enough to get by. He’d tell me all the time that it didn’t matter if we ever got married because ‘we loved each other.’ And that was sufficient . Ten years with that man almost went down the drain until he came groveling because I told him I was done compromising. Being nonchalant gets you nowhere. You have to find something you cherish and pour your heart into it, otherwise, it’s all pointless..don’t sit around and lose it trying to be prideful..”

As correct as she was, Eren was beginning to have his fill of lectures from those around him. All he wanted to do now was focus on his music and move past all of this drama. Rubbing at the back of his neck, he’d exhale a deep sigh and get up from his seat to show Vivian to the door. Although it was needed, he was tired of being fussed at! “I hear you..” sighing whilst walking her towards the door. Shuffling her expensive bag onto her shoulder, Vivian turned on the heel of her Giuseppe stilettos once more before embracing her sweet Eren and bidding him adieu. As always, she let him know that she loved him and he’d do the same. At the moment, he had felt much more calm and serene than he had in some days. He was excited for what was to come now; returning to that age old cliche…knowing that he could truly accomplish anything he set his mind to! But it would seem that his peace and quiet wouldn’t last for much longer. Once he saw Vivian out, he then did exactly as he intended and returned to his downstairs music room, in hopes of getting at least one of his tracks completed. However, that hope was short lived when only fifteen minutes after getting to work; barely even getting his mixing software booted up, he was so rudely interrupted!

“M-Mr. Jaeger, you have a guest!” the somewhat shaken voice of one of his housekeepers didn’t even register to Eren once he heard it or what she was saying. But he’d respond with a sigh and a bit of a frustrated huff, as he had no interest in entertaining anyone else for the day. He had business to conduct..regardless, his uninvited companion had other plans. “Too bad! Open this goddamn door..” and the second he heard the voice through the muffled sounds of the wooden barrier, he couldn’t help but to laugh because the only thought on his mind was kicking the ass of the person it was coming from! Because if anybody was going to catch it for interrupting him, it would be his sworn enemy. Granting his housekeeper permission to do so, she’d let him in and it was none other than the infamous Atelier Kiss lead singer, Jean Kirschtein. Without so much as even looking up from the screen, Eren donned that signature smug smirk whilst clicking away at the various settings. “You wanna tell me why your ugly ass is standing foot in my house and better yet, why I shouldn’t beat the shit out of you for showing up unannounced?” But Jean wasn’t phased by his threats or subtle attempts to get underneath his skin today..he had to avenge his woman’s honor and was here to do so regardless of what he said. “Not if I don’t kick yours first, you son of a bitch.”

EJ, swiveling around in his chair to face the obviously irate male, who had been practically chomping at the bit to get his hands on him. About a week late in Eren’s most humble opinion, but to each his own. What pissed Jean off the most was that he was seemingly unaffected by the inevitable falling out between him and his manager. Meanwhile, her little boy toy was looking to rip the rapper to shreds. “Did you call my wife a coke head, you fucking asshole?!” To which, the obviously unbothered rapper would respond with a laugh. “I said she was..past tense Jeanathan. That’s your problem, you don’t listen and neither does she. You’re both a match made in hell, I swear.” As badly as he wanted to haul off and hit him, Jean could do nothing more than suck his teeth and huff. The sheer sight of him made the rockstar absolutely livid. Especially when he considered the fact that he had watched his fiancee storm around her office and their home, angry and upset about something she refused to share. He had not the slightest clue or inkling that it was this jackass who was the root cause. It wasn’t until he all but forced the information out of her did Jean get the answer he was looking for and despite Mikasa’s pleading for him not to press the issue, he hopped into the driver’s seat of his new R8 Spyder and sped over to confront him. What he didn’t count on was for him to be moving so casually without a single ounce of remorse or concern for what he said. Especially since they were supposed to be best friends.

“Don’t try to play coy with me, you bastard. Mikasa told me everything and how you disrespected her. I don’t give a damn how long she’s been your friend, you don’t talk to my wife like you’ve lost your mind.” As composed as he seemed, Eren was truly ready to put this entire ordeal behind him and the fact that he was coming here, messing up his energy…had him ready to channel his less than savory side! Finally hopping up from his seat, he’d stand to face the other male and warn him to step off.

“First of all, pump your brakes, boy scout. I didn’t ‘disrespect’ anyone..I know accountability isn’t exactly her thing but while she was bumping those gums of hers, did she happen to mention to you how she made the call to let those dumbasses over at TMZ publish that bullshit article full of rumors and had my driveway swarmed with cameramen? Or how she thought in that pretty little, empty head of hers that somehow, that would get me to put out some music? Did she tell you that or did she do exactly as she always does…fill your stupid ass head up with whatever you want to hear, bat her eyelashes and like the pussy whipped idiot you are, you came rushing over here ready to fight me, a week later..and get dog walked, I might add. All because she lacks critical thinking skills. Did I hit the nail on the head or what?” By that time, Jean had no comeback, argument or will to debate with him after that. With more context, it was clear that she didn’t have much of a leg to stand on. As badly as he hated Eren, even he had to admit that this whole situation could’ve been avoided. And that sadly, he was also not to blame!

Sucking and smacking his teeth, Jean would place his hands to his hips before looking to the floor in disbelief. “Tcht..whatever. I’m sure she had her reasons. You don’t exactly make her job easy y’know..” despite their differences, it seemed that the two had reached an impasse. There was no point in turning this argument physical because honestly, at this point..it was futile. Like he said, a week had already passed and even though tensions were still high between the old friends, adding fuel to a docile fire would spell trouble for everyone involved. If word got back that AMG’s two biggest artists had come to blows for the PR manager’s sake, President Ackerman would undoubtedly suspend or fire Mikasa and they’d be selling their music on Soundcloud for a hot dog and three dollars. None of which they wanted to happen. Returning to his seat, Eren released a heavy breath and kicked his feet up with his hands splayed across his chest.

“Or so I’ve been told..listen, you know I care about Mika as much as you do. After all, she’s like family to me. We’ve been through a lot of shit together and I’ll be the first to admit, I give her a hard time, hell, sometimes on purpose. She may have pissed me off and I’m still mad with her but I don’t hate her..never could..I know an apology won’t mean a damn thing to her right now, but if it means anything..just tell her I’m trying, alright? You and I have never seen eye to eye and trust me, I pray for your downfall every night..” earning him a scoff and middle finger in response. Eren continued on as he glared up at the screen once more. Thinking of how the two used to sing and laugh together..a much simpler time before all the fame.

“But one thing we can agree on is that she’s the best at what she does and deserves nothing but my all. I owe her that much.” and with the heartfelt declaration, it would seem that Jean had a newfound respect for his arch nemesis. He didn’t want to admit this to him but he figured since he took the high road, he couldn’t let him be the only one showing a shred of maturity. Exhaling a deep sigh, he’d pinch the bridge of his nose and stare towards the wall, avoiding eye contact as he proceeded to give a small amount of praise to the last person he wanted to do so for...in his own way, of course! “...for fuck’s sake…you know she only goes to this extreme lengths because she believes in you, right?” which made the rapper double take, not fully grasping the point he was trying to make. “She’d never do all of this for anyone else. Hell, I don’t even know what she sees in you. Sure, she works hard for all of her clients..but you? Even though you ditched her, she stood in front of a room full of stiff ass execs and told them all that not one person on that label was a better artist than you and she was willing to bet her whole career on it.”

“Every client underneath my belt is an exact reflection of my managerial skills. If his next album doesn’t go number one, I’ll gladly relinquish my title of Public and Talent Relations Manager. But I think you and I both know, Mr. President, he isn’t going to go down so easily. You can sign whoever you want, try to replicate and copy his style a million times over but there’s only one EJ the Don.”

Those were her exact words and Eren truly couldn’t believe that she had placed such a huge wager on his success. Was she really willing to risk her entire career just for him? It was insane! But an indicator if nothing else that she was rooting for him. And it would seem that she wasn’t the only one in his corner..

“Do you get it now? So don’t make my baby look stupid, you inconsiderate asshole. She thinks the world of you..and even though it makes me sick to admit..she’s not wrong. You’re not half bad. So stop pissing around and show everybody you’re not washed up. Besides, it’s getting kinda boring on the charts without you to trample over..” offering up a snide smirk and from there, Eren knew what had to be done. Snickering, he’d mirror Jean’s sentiment. It would seem that the tension in the room had eased up quite a bit and they had come to an agreement. “Yeah, I’m sure it must be hard not living in my shadow all the time. It’s what you’re used to.” “Please, you’d still be sweeping the floors after my shows if Miss Vivian didn’t feel bad for your sorry ass.” granted, they could never just get along. But both men knew that he had something to prove and now that the air had been cleared about this entire situation, he was going to leave him to his devices and let him achieve that award winning sound only he could cultivate. But not before he gave a rather stern warning..heading to the door, Jean would turn and glare at Eren.

“I’m glad we had this talk but let’s get one thing clear..you ever make my girl that upset again, I don't care what the circumstances are, I’m beating the shit out of you without a single question asked.” but as always, Eren dismissed him with another one of his sarcastic comebacks. “I’m pissing my pants just thinking about it.’ pretending to quiver before slamming the door in his frenemy’s face. “Have a good day, Jeannie Boy. Don’t come back to my house if you like not resembling Swiss cheese.” shouting through the door before taking his seat yet again. It had been a rather eventful, exhausting day already and it had only begun. For now, he was tuning out all distractions and focusing on what was important: his craft. His one passion and love in this crazy thing he called life. This is what meant the most to him and he didn’t have time to think about bullshit publications, angry fiances or even his manager’s asinine ultimatum. This was all about him and his next project. And this time, it was personal..in what was a move that was seemingly out of character, he’d retrieve the sleek silver iPhone sitting next to his keyboard and unlock it, going straight for the camera; where he’d film a very short ten second snippet of his instrumental he had been working to curate before scrolling over to the instagram app and uploading it to his story with it simply captioned: “working..” and immediately, thousands flocked to view it. This was a new era he was stepping in and he was excited for what it held.

Little did he know..more than success on the music homefront awaited him and in a strange turn of events, he’d be getting somewhat of a second chance on a missed opportunity. One that would be coming around a lot sooner than he expected..and in a way he’d never forget.

page break + time skip: friday night, Miami Marina…Armin’s

yacht party commences!..

Friday, July eighteenth..a very warm and humid evening ; quite befitting for tonight’s events that would be transpiring. For what was being anticipated as the party of the summer, it was most certainly living up to its hype. It was only nine o'clock and people were beginning to file in by the droves to secure their spot on the Artlert family vessel known as the Cerulean, affectionately named after the crystalline waters it had sailed on in the past. The four hundred foot superyacht housed over twenty five rooms, a dining hall, three floors and a party area..ideal for housing the nearly one hundred invited guests on his list. A group of elite entertainers gathering to enjoy some fun and relaxation. Rappers, singers, dancers, influencers and models were set to join the infamous ArminHammer for this little shindig and with the chance to cozy up to the ever so handsome playboy producer and his equally attractive friends, none of them would turn this down. And of course, any other eligible bachelors coming aboard were hoping for their chance to shoot shots and score with some of the internet’s sexiest honies. Girls with top tier bodies and faces who were equally as fine in real life, strutting around in scantily clad bikinis..it was a dream. It was all about having a good time and letting loose. With AMG’s impending PalmFest around the corner, many of the participating talents were looking for a moment of cool down. With rehearsals and their own tours, albums and press releases also taking place aside from that, this weekend was one they were all looking forward to. Not for a lack of being able to afford their own cargo to cruise around on but because they knew if Armin could do nothing else, he could produce a hit and he could throw one hell of a party! Music was blaring from all ends of the deck..with everything from Young Nudy to Megan Thee Stallion, he made sure to curate all the songs that would get some ass moving on this boat. Among some of the first to arrive were his very own crew from the Dead Boys Society collective, Onyakopon and Connie Springer. Known to the world as Ony The God and Prince Cee. As talented as they were undeniably fine, the duo were known for their amped up, high energy trap tracks that would oftentimes feature Connie with his more higher pitched slightly auto tuned vocals and Ony with his deeper tone and more refined flow. They had released a plethora of songs together and even put out a joint EP that went crazy among TikTok users with their most viral song ‘Nike Tech’ being featured in edits everywhere.

“Dude, glad y'all made it.”

“With all these fine ass hoes, you thought we was gon’ miss this? Please.”

Both donning two piece Versace swim sets, torsos full of tattoos and expensive jewelry, including the VVS grills in their mouths..the two men wasted no time getting acquainted; greeting armin with a dapped up handshake whilst housing white styrofoam cups filled to the brim in their opposite ones. To say they were pregaming was an understatement. To satisfy his own curiosity, Armin asked if they had seen or heard from EJ, who no one anticipated showing up in the first place. But alas, the answer was the same as it always was when he got invited places.

“Nah man, I tried texting him but he left that shit on read. You know his ass won’t show up.” Ony stated as he began to spark up a pre rolled blunt. Which was a little disheartening to Armin. He knew that the two had very different approaches to this lifestyle and that he definitely was on the more lackadaisical side but even if just for a night, he wanted his best friend to come out and enjoy himself. The three would settle into their seats on the outside cabin; an all white leather sectional that would soon be occupied by some of the beautiful ladies he had summoned. A few were down in the bathrooms getting changed or making touch ups. Everyone was set to be here at eleven before it left the marina, set sail throughout the night and then docked back here at three am to continue partying. It was going to be a fun night indeed..

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up either..he ain’t come out the fucking studio all week. Every time I call him, he’s at his computer. That motherfucker don’t rest for nothing or nobody when he gets started.” which was the truest sentiment they had ever heard. However, they couldn’t sit and dwell on what they knew to be the inevitable. Eren just wasn’t the partying type. Sure, he was by far the most lit when it came to being on stage but he wasn’t popping out on his own time. Just then, the trio would be greeted by more familiar faces and an unexpected surprise. It was Mikasa and Jean, who were all dressed for the occasion..or lack thereof! Sporting a similar outfit to the rest of the guys, the singer escorted his bride to be onto the ship first and when she stepped before the three gentlemen who had been sitting there, it completely took them off guard!

“H-hey! Mika, Jean..what’s up?” “Hey, Miss Mika..” Although their hands and mouths were greeting them as a couple, all of their eyes were most certainly fixated on Mikasa! Sporting an all black microkini that accentuated her very tone, inked and curvaceous figure, it was no wonder why Jean was stuck like glue on her..that body was something crazy! Having only seen her in very formal business attire and Balmain dresses, this was a complete shift. Even during the days as a wild child performer, she had never shown this much skin. But that was then and this was now. No one would’ve ever guessed she was hiding all of that underneath there.

“Jesus Christ, boys. You’re not in middle school, act like you’ve seen a pair of tits before and pick your jaws up off the ground.” causing them all to snap from their trance. Lightly smacking her gum, she’d hold a hand up to Jean, who was eager to lash out about their perverse glares. “Down boy..it’s fine. Besides, mama’s off the clock and ready to submerge my liver in enough vodka to sterilize a bullet wound.” Armin, who had gotten up to greet his other bestie, was met with a playful kiss to the cheek as the two collapsed hands.

“Well you look amazing, Mika. Respectfully, of course.”

“You’re too charming.”

But before he could show them around and even offer refreshments, there was one more surprise on the docket. “By the way, we brought someone along. I hope you guys don’t mind..” of course, any friend of theirs was a friend to their entire group. Waving a hand towards the stairs, Mikasa would usher the guest up and if they weren’t already blown away by their PR manager..

“This is my gorgeous assistant and newest member of the AMG family, Ms. Sasha Braus.”

Then she’d surely do the trick! A beautiful brunette with a slender yet toned figure and a sweet, innocuous face that would have anyone gushing over her. But it wasn’t just her looks that would win everyone over but that soon to be revealed, rambunctious personality. Although she was strictly business during the day, Mikasa had become well acquainted with the aspiring young entertainer from Kentucky and needless to say, the girl was a star in the making. Her charm, demeanor..she was hilarious! Not to mention, she had never seen anyone with an appetite like hers..an appreciation dinner for her hard work had racked up a three hundred dollar bill. Even so, she had been working alongside the youngest Ackerman to not only earn money to afford her expensive move from the countryside to Miami but experience as well. She wanted to break into acting and singing so under Mikasa’s tutelage, she was sure to make it. And with none of the professional restraints to hold them back, everyone else was sure to get a glimpse of what she dealt with on a daily basis!

“Miss Mika! You didn’t tell me you were friends with the Dead Boys Society..holy shit! Dude, I’m like you guys’ biggest fan.” which brought forth a warmhearted laugh from them all. They could see that she was clearly a ball of energy. “Well thank you, miss Sasha. And it’s nice to meet you. We’ve heard a lot.” “Look, if it was about that time in Vegas, I so didn’t cheat and clear out the craps table…I’m just one hell of a dice player slash flirt. I did however clear that buffet and let me tell you, best damn seafood I’ve ever had in my life.” Causing them all to erupt in chuckles. Needless to say the new addition was going to fit right in..

“Aye, Mikasa. Your girl is pretty funny. Aye, mama. You smoke at all?” Connie, who was sitting spread legged, waved her over as he toiled with his blunt and Sasha didn’t hesitate to accept. “If Prince fucking Cee is asking, absolutely.” and from there, it was like a friendship made by fate itself. She was wild, hilarious and unbelievably down to earth. The type of girl Connie loved to kick it with! Personally, he was over the baddie model types who were tens by all accounts but had zero personality. Inviting her over, the two began to spark up a conversation; Ony joining in shortly after and that left Jean, Mika and Armin to converse. Of course, the question lingering on Armin’s mind was the obvious elephant in the room.

“I highly doubt he’ll show but..if EJ happens to come, are you gonna be cool with it, Mika? I know you two aren’t exactly best friends right now.” Her body language immediately told her answer as she tensed and leaned back against fiance, who was quick to coil his arms around her shoulders to calm those nerves. But she still chose to lie and wear a facade that it was all good.. “Yeah..I’ll be fine. Besides, like you said, I highly doubt he’ll come anyway. He hates everything that doesn’t involve work. Trust me, I won’t ruin your party.” “Yeah, and if he tries anything, I’ll just push him overboard.” Jean chimed in and invoked a laugh from them both.

“Well let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. For now, let’s just have a good time..” and that was something that they could all agree on! Cheering, the trio worked their back over towards the deck and proceeded with the festivities. Pouring up drinks and sparking up blunts, the festivities were about to commence!..

About an hour and a half later, the once quiet yacht was now full of guests and booming with clamor. An uproar of loud laughter, singing along to various tracks and overall chatter filled the watercraft as more people began to file in..among the second wave of attendees to board was none other than the host’s alleged lady and her best friend..(y/n). Just like EJ, no one had betted on you showing face for the occasion but once you stepped foot onto the deck, you were surprisingly met with a barrage of drunken cheers and laughter.

“Niesha! (Y/N)!”

“Hi, girls! So glad you made it..”

The first to greet you both was Mikasa, who was already a good five or six drinks into the festivities..downing a combination of vodka and tequila shots. Running her tongue along the rim, the short haired heroine made her way over and draped her arms around the two of you. It was most certainly a different light from what either of you were used to seeing her in. The normally strict and stoic manager was now as loose as a cannon. Licking alcohol off of her fiance’s exposed abs and dancing to provocative music. It’s what happened when the bigwigs finally let their hair down and have some fun. “You two look amaaazing.” donning in a drunken stupor. She couldn’t stop ogling either of you, which was to be expected. Niesha, sporting a lime green two piece with gold belly chains wrapping her toned torso. Her hair styled into perfect finger waves and her dark skin aglow with glitter. You on the other hand? An all white ensemble with matching fishnet cover ups. Thirty six inches of jet black Brazilian wavy flowing down your back and gold jewelry accenting your limbs. It was obvious that both of you were determined to have all eyes and attention on you. Which wouldn’t take long to attract..

“We could say the same for you, miss ma’am. Looking fine as ever.” Causing the executive to blush and give each of you tiny pecks to the cheek. “Well I’m not too bad. Listen, you girls better enjoy yourselves tonight. Especially you, (Y/N). You’ve been working so hard and the worst is yet to come so you better take advantage of this time off.” and you couldn’t agree more. Modeling gigs, club appearances and a special project that Mr. Smith himself had asked you to be a part of..it was a lot! But nonetheless, you were ready for what the future held. Tonight however, you were excited to celebrate and have fun. Whilst the three of you spoke, another person joined the fray. Someone who was only familiar by name alone but you had heard quite the stories about..

“Now, now, Mikasa..I know how you get when you’re drunk but please, don’t steal my girl. This beautiful lady here is spoken for..” just then, a blonde with tattoos littering his frame and a cup in hand scoured his way to Niesha’s side before tugging her towards him. He’d eventually wrap an arm around her waist, planting a searing kiss to her lips, along with a plethora to her neck. You quite honestly had never seen your best friend so happy! Despite her claiming that nothing serious was taking place between them. “Baeee, you gon’ mess up my makeup.” “I’m going to be doing plenty of that later on anyways, why you playing?...” muttering into her ear in what was supposed to be an attempt at being discreet. However, you heard it all and glared away awkwardly until they caught wind and straightened up. A far cry from her earlier trash talk about playing and dogging him. “My bad. Where’s my manners? I’m Armin. It’s..a pleasure, miss (Y/N). Please, make yourself at home. Drink and eat as much as you’d like..anybody my baby considers a sister is like family to me.” Such a sweet gesture for someone who had barely met you but you were certain that both Niesha and Eren had given him an earful about you. “Well thank you. Niesha’s told me a lot and it’s nice to finally meet you.” Accepting the sweet gesture, you’d shake hands but he was adamant on hugging you and coiled those toned arms around your frame. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all!

“Well, (Y/N)..girl, I hate to leave you but I..have some important business to take care of.” “Already? We just got here..” Not even a full fifteen minutes on the yacht and she was leaving you to go get some dick..unbelievable! But that was to be expected. She was fucking with the son of a billionaire after all and even though Niesha could pull anyone, men and women alike, she was stuck on him for various reasons. So you’d assure her that you were fine as she was being carted away by a gentle hand tugging her along. You figured she’d be preoccupied for the whole night..

“No sense in being a wallflower, I guess..”

Thinking to yourself as you glared around the deck at the various partygoers..everyone who was somebody in this city was aboard and although you didn’t make it your mission to get awestruck, it was kind of humbling to be rubbing elbows with some huge names. With a faint smile creeping across your lips, you’d take Mikasa’s sound advice and let loose for a little bit. You’d see a few familiar faces and even dance a little to the music with Connie and Ony, who had also come to say hello. However, it didn’t take long for your social battery to begin to tick. Having not even been there for an hour and you were feeling a bit out of sorts. Even with the clubbing, party goer lifestyle that influencers were expected to portray, you were the opposite and only truly popped out if a fee were involved. Even if socializing wasn’t your forte, you’d enjoy the night sky, open sea and a good drink. The atmosphere and vibes alone were worth it. Strutting across the deck, you’d pass a couple of attendees chatting about their trip to Venice on a private jet and their new designer bag they just copped. The other group chatted about getting to work with an artist from AMG. They had been dying to do so..before landing in a stool..where you were kindly greeted by a kind bartender.

“What can I get for you, miss?”

“Strawberry daiquiri, please. Thank you.” Reaching into your little crossbody to retrieve a ten dollar bill for a tip. Even though you were certain he was being paid amicably for this gig. Nonetheless, you’d peer out over the railing, into the water below..just reminiscing. Six years ago, you were barely scraping up change for food and gas money. You and Niesha both. Working some dead end job and living on the left side of your uncle’s duplex..wishing, hoping and praying for a better life. Fast forward and you were being treated to complimentary drinks on the yacht of her boyfriend, who was worth more than anyone on it. Chopping it up with world famous rappers and meeting people you had only ever seen through a TV or phone screen. It was amazing to think about..especially when you considered the fact that a few videos of you twirling a pole in your living room had gotten you here..life was crazy sometimes! But it wasn’t the only thing occupying space in your mind. There was someone who had been weighing heavy there for a minute. Despite trying to pretend otherwise and that you had moved on, you were still thinking about EJ. You knew for a fact that Armin had invited him as well but unlike you, he’d never be able to just drag his best friend along to something like this. Even still, a small part of you had hoped to see him again. It had been weeks since you guys met up in Houston. A night like that wasn’t easy to write off..that was by far the best time you’d had in years. It replayed heavily in your mind; lingering for days afterwards. You were stuck!..which made it all the more depressing to think that perhaps, the little rendezvous meant nothing to him. He probably did this sort of thing all the time..fucking fans after shows, hooking up with models and singers. He was EJ the Don after all..any girl with working eyes and ears would drop their panties for him. Still, he was the first and only person in this business that not only captivated you. Not to mention how sweet he was to you, the very first night you guys met. Maybe it was all moving too fast and this was nothing more than some illustrious fairytale. You couldn’t possibly expect a renowned rapper of all people to be enthralled with you just because you gave him some ass. It was how the game went..just had to hold your head up, take your L in silence and move on. Besides, it wasn’t as if you were expecting a relationship anyways…one drink turned into three and your mind was running circles.

However, all of your over analyzing and worrying would come to a halt when you heard faint gasps behind you along with footsteps and a deep, rather familiar voice speak out:

“Sorry, is this seat taken?”...

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! please check out some of my other stuff in the masterlist. Likes are appreciated but reblogs would mean the world and help me out a TON! Also, considering leaving a little something in the tip jar if you’re feeling extra generous! 🫶🏾

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minustwofingers · 10 months

Text

exoplanet p.6 (ellie’s journals)

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: a significantly different writing voice! this is going to be a very different vibe from the other chapters since i had to write it as i imagine ellie would (which is a lot different than i do). slight nsfw content (mdni), language, mentions of violence/gore, angst, ellie’s pov is actually really depressing

a/n: soooo i know it’s been almost 3 months...and i’m really sorry about that! a lot of stuff happened in my life and i kind of fell off writing for quite some time. but i finish series, so i’m going to get through exoplanet in its entirety so i can finally give you all closure. some preliminary notes: know that these are modeled after how i imagine ellie would journal if she did journal this much. canonically she didn’t do that much writing that follows a narrative like it does here. i think it’s honestly a little ooc for her to be emotionally responsible enough to talk out her feelings, but given that there’s no other way to tell her side of the story (save for legit rewriting it from her perspective, which would take another 6 months or so and be horrifically repetitive), i decided to just suck it up and write it. i’m sorry if it sounds awkward, since she definitely doesn’t write in a voice that i have much experience with. the next chapter will be better!

word count: 5.5k

tags~ @intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @elliesbabygirl @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower @muthafuckingstargirl @elliewilliamsissubermommyoml @eviestevie-14 @quicksilversg1rl @guacala @crtcrp @overtrred28

(i haven’t updated this yet bc my tags aren’t working)

a special special SPECIAL thanks to both @roarriita and @elliesflower for being soooo sexy and betaing for me. you both are so wonderful and helped me sm in feeling good enough to post this :)

without further ado, enjoy ellie’s journals!

January 20th, 2038

Today’s been…fucking…

I don’t even know where to start. I don’t get why this sort of shit always happens to me. First it was being bit and somehow surviving. Then it was getting carted off across the country. And now some girl basically falls out of the sky, claiming that she comes from some sort of paradise up North?

I’ll spare the immediate details. I don’t think I’ll forget the basic stuff—her name, the way she looked clutching at her knees in the clearing and shaking. That stupid shirt she had on and that expensive scarf.

I still want to believe that she’s just a liar who happened to get lucky with running into us, but even without Joel vouching for her story, I don’t think I’d ever be able to buy that she’d been living in the same world as us. I’ve never met someone without scars before. I didn’t know that there were people out there who didn’t have marked up arms and faces. Or people without calluses. Did you know that hands can be totally smooth?

Anyway. Tommy says that he’ll try and reach out across the contacts he has. Joel has her living right down the hall from me in the meantime, so now I have to share my bathroom. Hopefully the Terranovan authorities are good at finding people. She takes so fucking long to shower. It’s a wonder the whole compound still has hot water.

[One page of drawings follows: Dina smiling in the snow on her horse, Joel playing his guitar]

January 25th, 2038

Maria says that they’re thinking about breeding Shimmer soon. I know she told me because that means I’ll need to ride another horse for a little until she recovers and I know that we need another generation of foals, but it still made me cringe for Shimmer’s sake. She’s too free-spirited to be a mother. She doesn’t deserve that.

I went stargazing last night. It was pretty. Lots of shooting stars. I ran into the girl while I was coming back from the meadow. She gave me a weird look, and I could tell she wanted to ask me where I’d been but kept her mouth shut. Sometimes I regret dropping off that bag of clothes. I really fucking liked that gray sweatshirt, actually. I’m not even joking. It looks weird to see it on someone else.

[Half a page of drawing follows of the night sky with labeled constellations]

February 5th, 2038

Long time no see. I’ve been pretty busy with patrols and helping Maria with securing the walls. Joel made me try some of that coffee that our new house guest brought. It was just as awful as I remembered, but he seemed happy. So one point for the space girl. I guess.

Dina’s been hanging around more. She just broke up with Jessie (yes, again). She swears that it’s for good this time, but I’m not so sure. She also talks a lot about Y/N and what little detail she’s gathered about her life back in Terranova. I thought teasing her by asking her if she had a crush on Y/N would make her talk less about it, but it just made things worse.

I miss when things were normal.

[One page of drawings follows: one of Shimmer in cross-ties, another of a girl’s face, half-finished with the face scribbled out]

February 12th, 2038

Today I’m sad. I’m in bed with that book about astronomy that Joel nabbed for me on patrol a while ago and there’s a section I wanted to read that’s completely waterlogged. It shouldn't be a surprise. It’s decades old and has survived through an apocalypse. Normally things like this don’t bug me much because I’m so used to it. Half of my Savage Starlight collection is damaged. I don’t think I’ll ever find the first book to actually complete the series, and that’s okay, because I’ve never expected anything more. But now that I know that there’s a world out there where I’d never have problems like this, stuff like this hurts. It’s so stupid. I’m lucky to be alive. Compared to what’s left of the world population, I live a much cushier life than most. But for the first time in a while, I’m wishing for more.

“Greed is the enemy of happiness” is what Maria would say if I ever said this kind of shit out loud. But is it really? Or is it just realizing what life can be?

[Half a page of a drawing of the solar system, with each planet labeled]

February 22nd, 2038

Maria let me pick the sire for Shimmer’s foal. It felt kind of gross, to be honest. I asked Maria if there was any way for Shimmer to choose and I was only sort of joking, but she just laughed anyway and patted my back. I won’t have to worry about finding a new horse for another two seasons or so, she told me. It’ll be weird not having her for a little.

She also told me that there was still no word from anyone who knew anything about Terranova. She said this to me in this placating voice, like she thought that I was going to punch a hole in the wall or something after hearing it. That seems to be common when it comes to people talking about Y/N and me. I don’t know why so many people think I don’t like her staying with us.

I don’t, by the way. Let me be clear. But I mostly feel indifferent about her now. She doesn’t bother me as much anymore, not since she started getting out of the house. I think she might be helping in the gardens, but I’ve never actually asked. We don’t talk a whole ton. I don’t think she likes me all that much.

[A drawing of Shimmer’s head poking over her stall door that takes up one page]

March 2nd, 2038

Today was finally our first nice day of the year. I would’ve enjoyed it more if the bird that lives in the tree outside my window hadn’t blown me out of bed at 4 in the fucking morning. I’m exhausted now. It’s been a long day. Joel says I need to take Y/N out on patrol soon. Why, I have no idea. Maybe he just wants me to actually befriend her or something, and I do nothing but patrols now. He can’t possibly expect her to be a good patrol partner.

Thankfully, I checked the logs when I came back. The route he wants me to cover with her has been the quietest all season. I doubt we’ll run into anything. If we do, I’ll probably be able to handle it. Hopefully.

[Half a page of doodles, mostly of nature and wildlife with the exception of a half-finished doodle of an arm clad in a fabric that drapes like silk and a hand with polished nails]

March 3rd, 2038

Many surprising things were learned today. I can’t believe it’s illegal to be gay in Terranova. Sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just—out of all the things they could be bothered by, it’s that? Really?

March 12th, 2038

I haven’t been good at journaling recently. I don’t really want to talk about why. You know why.

[Six pages of drawings, with many unfinished doodles of Y/N—including but not limited to her on her horse, her reading on the couch, and one with her sitting in what is a very loose interpretation of a classroom, taking notes]

March 13th, 2038

I will feel more normal tomorrow. Hopefully.

[Two pages of drawings, all of Y/N. One is her bent over a book, the other is her smiling up at you]

March 14th, 2038

I did something really stupid. I think I should probably just document this here so I don’t accidentally drunkenly spill it all out to Dina at the next bonfire. This is so embarrassing. I don’t get why I feel this way. It’s so stupid, you know? To feel anything towards someone who’s so…I don’t know. Different.

She gives me the weirdest looks sometimes. I can’t tell what they mean. It feels like she’s judging me. And why wouldn’t she be? I bet all the girls she spends her time around back home are just like her—perfect, orderly, pretty, proper. The day before I took her patrolling she gawked at the shorts I was wearing. It was borderline offensive. Actually, fuck that. It wasn’t borderline. It was offensive. You don’t just stare at people like that. She should know that.

Anyway, I invited her over to my room last night. Normal, right? Because we’ve been doing that a little since I took her on patrol, by the way. I’m not sure if I mentioned that before. But this time I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m…I don’t know. Creepy? Strange? Scary? She told me that she thought I was intimidating. And then I called her “untouched”, like how some old-timer devout Christian wackjob or whatever would describe virginity. It was so fucking weird of me. I don’t know what got into me, but she kept doing this thing where she kicked my foot with hers or touched my knee and it just threw me off. It took me forever to fall asleep last night—I kept replaying what I’d said to her, especially how I’d told her that she wouldn’t have made it if she were me like I was some sort of hardcore survivalist. I think I embarrassed her. I’m never doing anything like this again. I’m going to be dead sober every time I see her from now on.

I’ll stop talking about that. Y/N did come back after I’d made a fool of myself and showed me her collection of movies, so maybe it wasn’t so bad. I haven’t watched any movies since I was with Cat. When we first started dating, I’d invite her over and she’d sit right where Y/N did last night. I’m trying to not think of the implications, because it’s space girl, and she’s going home sometime soon.

[Three pages of drawings follow—some nature drawings of ferns and moths, others of Y/N with wet hair, her knees tucked up to her chin like she’d been in Ellie’s bed that night]

March 19th, 2038

It’s the Spring Equinox. That’s the first thing Y/N told me this morning when she saw me in the kitchen this morning. She gave me a mini lecture on what that meant for the planet’s axis tilt and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I already knew, since she seemed really excited to tell me.

I made a horrible discovery yesterday, by the way. Maria came up to me and told me that Tommy had decided to reach out to some of his other buddies up North to see if they had any connections to Terranova, and for the first time, I felt myself hoping that it wouldn’t work.

It’s awful. I shouldn’t be thinking like this. Even in Jackson, where things are comparatively much better than the rest of the world, there’s risk. Just this winter, one family had to be kicked out when they were found hiding an infected son. No one here is completely safe, just safer. I shouldn’t be selfish. Y/N needs to go where she’s meant to be, where there’s no chance of infection or invasion. I’ll be fine. I just need to get over whatever this is.

Speaking of her, I need to go get her to tell her that we’re heading out on patrol in just a few minutes. Fingers crossed she doesn’t accidentally shoot me, but Joel swore up and down that she knows how to handle a gun now. Sure. Haha.

I’m back. It’s the middle of the night and she only just left my room. I don’t know how much detail I need to go into—chances are I won’t forget this. But for bookkeeping purposes: patrol did not go so hot. I had to give her stitches without any local anesthesia. I’ve never given stitches to anyone nearly in my lap before. I was really nervous, too. I don’t think I’ve ever had to focus so much on keeping my hands steady when it came to stitching someone up before, not even with Joel.

I’m starting to think that maybe I was wrong about thinking that she didn’t like me. I still can’t tell exactly what she thinks of me, and I know that it’s a really bad fucking idea to be entertaining thoughts like these, but tonight she did something that made me reconsider. She got under the covers with me, and instead of moving away to keep us from touching, she rested her head next to mine on the pillow.

I hope she couldn’t hear how much my heart was racing. People can’t hear that kind of stuff, right? Even if they’re close?

I’m being ridiculous. There’s no way she—No. She doesn’t see me like that.

March 21st, 2038

She rested her head on my shoulder today. I don’t know what to think of it. If she was normal and grew up like the rest of us did, I would know exactly what to think. But she’s not normal, and it’s not fair of me to treat her like she is. Maybe this is, like, a culturally acceptable thing back from where she grew up. Maybe rich people just cuddle each other all the time. I wouldn’t fucking know, and unfortunately no one in this godforsaken town can help, because there’s a distinct lack of what Maria calls the “bourgeoisie”. They’re all either dead or back where Y/N grew up, doing whatever rich snobs do.

Even if it is normal for her, I feel like I can’t stop analyzing everything she does. She seems more nervous around me than she does anyone else, but she lingers like she can’t help herself. I’ve noticed that she stumbles over her words and touches me much more than is really necessary. Or at least I think she does—maybe I’m just imagining things.

But even if it means what I think it does, I can’t let myself think like this. It’s not fair to her. No one deserves to live here if they have the choice. At least the people out here know how to handle it. She doesn’t, and I don’t want her to turn into the type of person who does.

When I stitched her up and teased her about being weak and sensitive, I think she thought I was insulting her. I try not to think about it, but if I let myself wallow too much, I’ll wonder what kind of person I’d be if I wasn’t so jaded. Maybe I’d draw more, or read more, or write more. Maybe I’d be an easier person to love. I didn’t get to choose how I turned out. It just happened to me.

So if she has the choice, I’m going to do everything I can to help her make the right one. I don’t want her to be like this.

March 29th, 2038

I had a dream about Riley last night. I haven’t had one of those in years, not since I was traveling with Joel. We were back in the mall, and Riley had just turned the lights on as a surprise. I had this feeling then, like I was being given a second chance. That I could set things straight and do what was right. I woke up before I could insist that we leave.

[A drawing takes up half of the next page. It’s a crude depiction of the mall Riley turned in.]

April 4th, 2038

It’s the middle of the night again. I can’t sleep. I’m so disappointed with myself about what I did tonight with Y/N. At the time, it seemed like a really good idea. She likes me back, apparently. I was right about everything that I wrote about earlier, I guess. But it certainly doesn’t feel like I thought it would.

It’s not like there’s no part of me that isn’t thrilled that she feels the same way. That’s why I gave in and slept with her. But even when she told me how she felt, even before I completely lost my self-control, something heavy was already hanging over me. Regret, maybe. Or guilt. I don’t know. What I do know is that this can’t last. I can’t make this good for her like I want to. She needs to go back, and she needs to be able to feel like she can make that choice without feeling like she’s leaving anything good behind.

I’m not a spiritual person. but even so, I can’t help but feel like that dream of Riley was a sign. This is my second chance. I’m not going to fuck it up this time. I’ve already been an accomplice of so much suffering. Y/N is going home, and I’ll never see her again when she does. That’s that.

It took all I had left in me in the end to kick her out. She looked so hurt, and the fact that she tried to hide it made it even worse. I wish I could tell her why this can’t work, but I don’t think she’d understand.

[A drawing of Y/N kissing Ellie’s palm follows, her hair slightly mussed]

April 6th, 2038

I need to stop making rash decisions like knocking on her door late at night and asking her to come over. I really don’t know what’s gotten into me, because whenever I see her now, I can’t help but freeze up. Like last night, when she kissed me and touched my face and told me she thought I was a good person. I panicked and told her—well, nevermind. I don’t really want to repeat it here. It was mean, but I didn’t know what else I could do to get her to stop.

She was already tearing up by the time she left. I had to sit down and breathe deeply for a few minutes before I was sure I wasn’t going to be sick. I don’t really think I want to write more about this right now. It just makes me sad how unfair this all is. Of course the one time after Cat that I meet someone I really like it just has to be in one of the cruelest scenarios possible. I just have no idea what to do.

[Five pages of drawings follow of Y/N in bed, her head tilted back against the pillow, her eye’s half lidded, and her mouth slightly agape. Ellie redraws this multiple times, x-ing out parts that don’t seem quite right]

April 10th, 2038

I know this is none of my business, but she’s been spending a lot of time with Dina lately. She nearly got herself killed getting a gift for me with Dina yesterday, which feels like some sort of especially cruel joke. The universe isn’t being very fucking subtle right now.

If what I’m worried about is right, at least Dina has the option to come with her up North. She’d test negative.

April 20th, 2038

I would really like it if I could have one short break from the misery that’s my life right now. I turned 20 yesterday, accidentally introduced Y/N to my ex, proceeded to get much drunker than I meant to, completely fell off my rocker and asked Y/N to stay the night, and then discovered this morning that not only has Terranova found Y/N but that my strategy of keeping Y/N at arm’s length completely failed.

She wants me to come with her, and she’s threatening to stay here otherwise. I did the only thing that I could think to do and snapped at her.

I’m so tired of this. I hate having to act like I don’t care. This is the third time now that I’ve had to say something nasty to her to keep her from getting too close. I just want to get in bed and sleep until she leaves and I can pretend like nothing ever happened and that everything is normal.

[One page of drawings of Y/N passed out in her bed and Y/N grinning while holding a lopsided cake]

April 28th, 2038

I know I haven’t been writing much again. Sorry about that. I just can’t bear to think about my life right now. I know I should be relieved—this is what I wanted. I wanted her to go where it’s best for her.

But there’s still that selfish part of me that keeps me up at night. Y/N is going to leave this place never knowing how I feel about her. Logically, that should be what I want. This way I won’t need to say a real goodbye. I know I won’t need to now, since she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. It’s really fucking immature of me to be so hurt by what she must think of me now, but I can’t stop.

I wonder how long it will take for me to stop feeling sad about this. I’ve never had to process anything like this where there’s nothing I can do. With Riley and Sam, I at least got to heal from the knowledge that I was going to help make the vaccine to save the world. But losing Y/N just because of where we come from is totally meaningless. I can go forward knowing that I made it easy for her to make the right decision, but that only goes so far.

I don’t know how I’m going to handle this. I’m going to practically live with Dina so I don’t need to be alone for the first few weeks.

I wish May 8th would just come already so she can go away and I can get on with my life.

May 1st, 2038

Things have changed some. Joel cornered me in the kitchen last night and told me that I needed to grow up and just appreciate the rest of the time I had left with Y/N. I was going to agree and try to walk past him, but he stopped me and told me that he needed me to escort Y/N. I guess he’s right. She can’t go alone, and Joel and Tommy are getting a little too old for week-long expeditions into the wilderness.

He also told me that I need to apologize to her and make things right, saying shit like I’d regret it forever if things ended between us like this. I don’t want to admit it, but I think he’s right. When I told him that she’d originally threatened to stay if I didn’t go with her, he blinked, hard. Then he told me that he had an idea.

I’m faking it. I’m telling her that I’m going, even though I’m going to leave her when she gets picked up. I don’t know how I’m going to pull it off. When I told her in the meadow last night, she was so happy. I know it’s really sappy and cliche to say this, but I felt my heart shatter, bit by bit. I’m not a very good liar, not to people who are important to me. But I suppose I’ve been lying to her all this time, kicking her out of my room and telling her that I didn’t want anything more with her.

I can do this, I think. I have to do this, or else she might threaten to stay, and I don’t think I have it in me to be cruel again. Not to her. I guess I’ll just trick myself into feeling like I’m actually coming with her, like we have a chance of actually being together. I don’t know. We’ll see.

[One drawing of Y/N laying down in the meadow that takes up half a page]

May 3rd, 2038

It’s easier than I expected. Y/N sleeps over in my room at night, and if I don’t think too hard about it, I can pretend like things will always be like this.

I’m getting to be such a sap, though. I almost broke down in the bathroom today while I was getting ready. It was over the stupidest thing—a toothpaste bottle. Y/N always folds it so neatly, making a perfect, tight spiral of plastic near the end. It used to really bother me when I first had to share with her (because who does that—it’s weird and doesn’t do anything since she doesn’t manage to squeeze out the extra in the bottom anyways), but the thought of throwing it out when it finally emptied and having to find another one that’ll never be folded again hit me and suddenly I was counting my inhales and exhales. I don’t really give a shit about toothpaste. It’s just that it was the moment that I realized that she’s really going to be gone soon, you know? Slowly but surely, the evidence of her stay here will be wiped away and replaced. Someday I’ll forget all the little details about her.

She’s knocking on my door. I need to stop being so depressed and go see her before she picks up that something’s wrong.

[One small doodle of Y/N smiling and rolling her eyes while brushing her teeth]

May 6th, 2038

Dina’s coming now. Y/N told me this morning after she went to say goodbye. I feel really shitty about this. I guess I should tell her that I’m not going now, because this way Y/N needs to go home to get Dina the help she needs, but I just can’t bring myself to. I’ll have to escort both of them to the pickup spot anyway since Dina’s weaker now that she’s pregnant, and the thought of having to spend a full week with Y/N after she knew I lied to her makes my skin crawl. I can’t tell who I’m trying to protect by doing this—me or her. Maybe both.

I’m losing my two favorite people here, and they don’t even know it yet. But this is the best option. This is my chance to finally do some good in the world.

May 7th, 2038

I’m about to go stargazing with Y/N for the last time. I don’t think I’ll be writing in here again until I get back. I don’t want to risk losing this while I’m out in case something crazy happens. Which it probably will, but I canonically happen to be really good at living when shit hits the fan. Also—I don’t imagine Y/N to be a particularly nosy person, but if she ever came across this and thought it was a book or something, it would make things really awkward. So, you’re staying tucked carefully under my bed until I come back later this month.

I don’t know how to handle this sort of goodbye. I don’t really know how to handle any sort of goodbye, I guess, but at least I’ve been through them before. I may not do it well, but I know how to live when people I love die. But this isn’t like that. No one is dying (hopefully), and more importantly, I know it’s a goodbye this time. I see it coming on the horizon and I can’t even tell anyone about it. How does anyone deal with that? How does anyone cope?

Y/N’s knocking on my door now. I need to go before I start thinking even more and do something stupid like start crying or whatever.

I’ll be back in about two weeks.

June 1st, 2038

Sorry for not writing. It’s been pretty shitty, actually. It took me 5 extra days to get home because some scavengers gave me trouble. I hardly slept for most of them. I ran out of ammo about 4 days out and had to use my knife for everything I ran into until I was able to raid the cabinets of this abandoned cabin. Nearly got taken out by a clicker, too. It was not fun. It was especially not fun because I was not feeling super great to begin with, for obvious reasons.

Things haven’t gotten any better since getting back to Jackson. Y/N didn’t take her stupid Exoplanetary Systems textbook and now I’m struggling with whether or not I should throw it out. The rational side of me says to keep it because it was published after the outbreak and probably contains updated information that isn’t anywhere else. The rest of me doesn’t even want to look at the stars anymore because it reminds me of her.

It’s really hard not to blame her for ruining everything. I can’t go out and ride my own horse without thinking about the first time we went on patrol together and she dropped my gun and nearly killed one of us. And I can’t even relax in my own home, because I’ve spent almost every night with her since March in my bed. Sometimes when I hear a creak in the middle of the night I assume it’s her walking down to the bathroom or getting water until it hits me again that she’s never coming back.

I know I’m being melodramatic. There are many other worse problems I could be having right now. But I don’t even have my best friend anymore. I wonder if Dina and Y/N are angry with me for lying. I wonder if they’re settling in okay. I hope that Y/N manages to fix whatever her research was and that Dina gets better.

[Twenty pages of drawings of Y/N and Dina together. Some are snippets of them on their expedition to the pickup site. Others are pictures of Y/N and Dina walking around with smiles on their faces in what looks to be a city]

June 21st, 2038

It’s been over a month since I’ve last seen her. I had a breakdown while getting ready for bed when I realized that I didn’t remember what her voice sounded like anymore.

[Ten pages of half-finished drawings, each with its face scribbled over]

June 28th, 2038

I don’t think I really remember what she looks like—not exactly. I’ve been trying to draw her because I’m still in the habit of making decisions that are definitely not good for my mental state. I just can’t do it, and it isn’t for the lack of trying. Every time I get to her eyes I keep drawing something that looks wrong, but I can never tell why. I compare it to my earlier drawings of her from when we first met and it feels like meeting her for the first time again.

Joel says it’ll pass and that he’s proud of me for doing the right thing. Jessie and I have been hanging out more. Even if he won’t admit it, I can tell he’s miserable without Dina. But he understands why she had to go—just like how I feel about Y/N. And Dina too, of course. Jackson feels like a ghost town without her.

July 17th, 2038

I haven’t been writing or drawing in here for a while, I know. I was going to just go ahead and start a new journal—you know the one that Maria gave me for Christmas with the dark blue cover—but it didn’t feel right to just stop without explaining. Otherwise I’ll feel like an asshole for wasting so much paper.

I don’t want to move on from what happened with Y/N and Dina. I really don’t, but I don't think I have a choice. If I keep going on like this, I’ll never be able to live normally again. I’m just sick and tired of being sad all of the time. So I’m not going to write here anymore. I don’t think it’s realistic for me to forget all about it, because I don’t want to forget her. Not really. But I guess if I want to get better, I’ll need something different. So, here’s that. The beginning of my fresh start. “Fresh start” and you call me overdramatic!! haha. Y/N was here!

(You left this on your nightstand. I promise I didn’t read too much. I opened it because I thought it was your sketchbook. I’m going to put this back since I hear you walking down the hall now.)

ok as an aside my blog is broken so my stuff isn’t notifying people when i tag/showing up on dashes or in tags. please reblog if you’re comfortable so people can actually find this! thank you!

final a/n: i totally get it if this wasn’t quite your cup of tea this time—i just really wanted to iron out ellie’s pov before their reunion in the end. which is happening and not a spoiler because i have always promised a hea! this was a change in pace for the story and i promise you that the next chapter will be more normal/align more with my normal writing style. i have also changed my mind (probably) and have decided to stick with writing an epilogue! so two more chapters are coming before this is totally over. thank you so much for waiting and being so patient! i love you all dearly ok bye bye now

#ellie williams x reader #exoplanet #not adding tags because i’ll eventually repost #this is just for people who want to read!

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sweetbutpsychobutsweet · 27 days

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At Least We'll Be Together

Chapter 11

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Thorin's greatest enemy is alive and well, and wants to put an end to not only your quest but your lives. It seems you're not the only one who wants his head...

Warnings: no use of y/n, angst, violence

Author's Note: Finally got this to post! This one is much more plot-heavy, but only as a setup for the next chapter. It's one I've been planning for a very long time so I'm excited to share it with you! hopefully very soon:) I think I've fully updated the taglist below but if there's someone I missed just let me know! ♥

Word count: 1945

“Cut off his head!” the Goblin king declares as they pin Thorin down. One of them raises a jagged blade above his head, but before a scream can escape you, the cavern is suddenly exploding with a burst of light. Your ears ring and your eyes burn as the force of the blast knocks you off your feet. The goblins holding you in place release their clawed grip on your arms as everything goes silent. Then, from the stillness: “Take up arms,” a voice commands. Blinking the stars out of your eyes a tall, gray wizard appears. “Fight,” he commands, “fight!” You and the rest of your kin spring into action, shoving the horde of goblins off of you as you go to reach for your discarded weapons. Bombur reaches the pile first, tossing weapons up overhead. Thorin’s blade soars through the air, returning to his hand just in time to stop the goblin king’s club from coming down on him. The king tumbles off the platform into the darkness below. Catching your own swords in mid-air, you bring them down on the trio of goblins skittering your way. Slashing through flesh effortlessly, your beloved blades help clear the path before you. “Follow me!” Gandalf calls, “quick!” You all take off in a sprint down the rickety bridges and platforms. Swarms of the angry creatures are hot on your heels as they seem to pour in from every direction. Gandalf leads the way through the caverns, slicing down goblins like weeds. Thorin follows close behind him taking them out three at a time as they continue pursuing you. One tries to crawl up the bridge beneath your feet and with a solid kick to the nose, you send it tumbling back down. Another one crawls up from the other side, grabbing your ankles with its claws. Before you can bend over to slice at its hand another one jumps you from behind, wrapping its arms around your neck and sinking its teeth into your shoulders. You cry out from the pain and Thorin looks over his shoulder at you, brow furrowed and steely gaze instantly locking in on the assailant. Pushing through the pain, you slice the goblin at your feet off by its fingers. Before you can remove the other one from your neck, Thorin is pulling him off for you and tossing him over the edge. Another goblin drops down behind Thorin, a jagged knife raised to pierce him in the back. “Get down!” you cry and Thorin does without a second thought as your blade swipes over the space where his head used to be, removing the goblin’s instead. You continue farther down the path, fighting your way to the mountain’s surface with the goblin swarm still close on your tail. Suddenly your path is blocked by the enormous leader himself. “You thought you could escape me?” he scoffs. “What are you going to do now wizard?” he sneers at Gandalf who thrusts his staff into his eye before slashing his sword across the king’s belly. “That’ll do it,” he grunts as the wizard delivers the final blow to his neck. His now lifeless body collapses, the weight toppling the bridge beneath you as it starts tumbling down, bringing all of you with it until you land on solid ground with a thud. “Well, that could have been worse,” Bofur supplies before he’s promptly crushed by the goblin king's corpse following your descent down.

You all groan and grumble, pushing off the debris of the collapsed bridge as you scramble to your feet. Looking up in horror you see even more goblins than before, headed right for you like a tidal wave. Far too many for the company to fight off. “Only one thing will save us, daylight!” Gandalf cries, pulling the rest of you out of the bridge’s remnants as he leads you toward the beam of light streaming through an opening to the surface. The underground caverns give way to the slopped mountainside, illuminated by the vibrant orange of the sun setting overhead as you all scramble down the steep slope. Only stopping to catch your breath when Gandalf finishes his head count. “Where’s Bilbo?” he asks. “Where is our hobbit?” None of you can recall seeing him since you first fell down into goblin town. You can’t remember if you’d seen him since your previous conversation that evening. You had been too focused on staying alive to notice his absence. “What happened exactly?” Gandalf demands, “Tell me!” “I’ll tell you what happened,” Thorin grumbles, “Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He has thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door. We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone.” The other dwarves look at each other in silence. “Can’t say that I blame him,” you grumble to yourself, wiping the goblin blood off your weapons with your pant leg. “No, he isn’t,” the hobbit reappears from behind the trees. “Bilbo Baggins,” Gandalf laughs, “I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life.” “Bilbo,” Kili sighs in relief, “we’d given you up.” “How on earth did you get past the goblins?” Fili asks “Well what does it matter, he’s back,” Gandalf interjects sensing the hobbit’s reluctance. “It matters,” Thorin insists, never one to let something go, “I want to know. Why did you come back?” “Look,” Bilbo scoffs, “I know you doubt me. I know you always have. And you’re right, I often think of Bag-End.” He shrugs. “I miss my books, and my armchair, and my garden. See that’s where I belong. That’s home. And that’s why I came back. Because…” He looks at all of you in turn, scanning your faces. “You don’t have one,” he says sadly, “a home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can.” Everyone, including yourself is at a loss for words. Thorin looks like he’s about to say something, but before he can a howl pierces the silence. The orc pack has found you again. “Out of the frying pan,” Thorin whispers. “And into the fire,” Gandalf finishes, “run, run!” You all take off in a sprint as darkness comes over the mountainside, the wargs scampering down after you. They corner you on the side of a cliff, there’s nowhere else to go. “Up into the trees!” Gandalf says, “Climb!” You scamper up a tree as the rest of the wargs catch up to you, the orcs riding astride them with hunger in their eyes. One in particular breaks through the pack on his white warg with a knowing grin on his face. You’ve only seen him once before, but still, you’d know him anywhere. “Azog,” Thorin whispers in disbelief as the orc sniffs the air with a taunting smile.

Fear the pale orc rasps in black speech. I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin, son of Thrain Thorin’s knuckles turn white on the tree branch he clutches. “It cannot be.” You bite the inside of your cheek at the dark look on his face. He’s going to do something stupid, you just know it. Kill the others Azog commands as the rest of the wargs are unleashed, growling and clambering up the trees to nip at your heels. Branches snap and trunks shake, pulling free of their roots as they start to topple over like dominoes. You all leap from branch to collapsing branch, until your entire company is stranded on a lone pine at the very edge of the cliff side. There is only one defense left: magic. Lighting a large pinecone aflame above you, Gandalf starts to drop them down to you all in turn, one after the other you all start to hurl them toward the orc pack, setting the entire cliffside aflame. It seems to work at first until the tree beneath you starts to groan from the weight of your entire company. It topples over even further, dangling you all over the cliff’s edge. The roots crack and groan, and you’re so focused on not losing your grip on the branch that you don’t notice Thorin rising to his feet and drawing his sword. Not until he starts to stalk right towards the pale orc. “Thorin!” you cry as he runs straight through the flames, oaken branch held high overhead. With a ferocious cry, he charges at Azog. The white warg leaps over him, dodging the attack and knocking Thorin off his feet. Thorin stumbles, disoriented, as the warg captures him in his jaws with a crunch. You hear the others calling out his name but it all fades to white noise in the background, all you can hear are his anguished cries. You don’t know where you find the strength, but you manage to pull yourself all the way atop the tree branch you’re dangling from. It cracks beneath you in protest as you climb to your feet but by the time it starts to snap free beneath you, you’re already leaping to the next one, sprinting along the collapsed trunk with both blades held high, straight towards the white warg. Thorin struggles in his grasp as he tries to hit the beast’s snout with his sword but all it does is anger him. You jab your blade right under its jaw and it releases Thorin with a howl, tossing him aside like a rag doll. The warg swipes its large paw at you in retaliation. You narrowly miss its claws but still aren’t fast enough to avoid the blow to your head as it knocks you over too. Your head smacks against the dirt beneath you as you fall over, dizzy and disoriented. You can hear Thorin’s groans of pain close by and you blindly reach a hand out for him, your fingers clutching onto his arm.

Bring me their heads Azog commands one of the other orcs who stalks over to you with heavy steps. Using your remaining strength, you pull yourself atop Thorin’s chest, shielding his body with your own. If the orc is going to take your heads, he’s going to have to start with yours. Your eyelids feel so heavy as you rest your forehead against Thorin’s. The tickle of his breath against your face assures you he’s still alive. The orc grabs a fistful of your hair and you let out a pained cry as he yanks your head up, bringing the curve of his blade against your throat. Thorin’s eyes flutter open in alarm as the orc starts to lift your weight off of him, and in a panic, he tries to reach for the discarded sword by his side. The orc tightens his grip on your hair and raises his blade high overhead, ready to remove your head from your shoulders. But before he can bring the blade down, Bilbo of all people is tackling the orc to the ground. His grasp on your hair is loosened and you collapse back against Thorin. He sighs beneath you in relief and his eyelids flutter closed. “Thorin,” you croak against his chest. He brings a shaky hand to the back of your head. Gently cradling you against his chest as he loses consciousness beneath you. The cries of your kin ring out from behind you as they all charge into battle. Everything starts to go black as your eyelids flutter closed, the sounds of battle and the screech of birds overhead echoing around you. We’ll be alright now, you think to yourself. And if we’re not, at least we’ll be together.

Taglist:

@mrsdurin @thetaekwondofeline @enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog

@exhausted-humxn-being @marsmallow433 @sverdgeir

@champagne-glamour@yve-barr @krampus236 @nerdthickly

@lyl1pad @bruhk

#thorin x y/n #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader smut #thorin oakenshield smut #the hobbit #thorin oakenshieldx fem!reader #thorin oakenshield x afab!reader #thorin #thorin fic #thorin x reader #the hobbit fanfic #thorin x fem!reader #thorin oakenshield angst #thorin oakenshield x y/n #thorin smut #thorin angst #thorin oakenshield x reader angst #thorin x reader angst

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cheegu3 · 8 months

Text

Enhypen - the glory (Part 7)

summary; after rejecting one of the most popular boys at your new school, you soon realised that you'd done the gravest mistake of your life; these weren't ordinary boys, and now they were set on making your life a living hell - heavily based on the kdrama with the same name

warnings; yandere themes, swearing, mentions of wounds, bullying, inaccurate descriptions of police work,

genre; yandere

wc; 4.7k

pairing; enha x f.m reader

note; I’ve been really busy so this isn’t my best chapter, pls keep this in mind 😭 I have the whole ending and everything planned out but it’s moving really slowly, a lot of repeating here and less plot driven?? In the future I want to try and update more often and if I can’t do that then I want to give longer chapters, but don't kill me bc it's not very exiting it will hopefully get better :c

masterlist

Your feelings of horror caused your voice to come out like a trembling whisper.

‘’ Who is watching you? ‘’

Soobin grew more erratic. His eyes almost bulged out of his head and his breathing sped up. Despite this, he tried his hardest to keep his gaze away from the one standing in the shadows. The person watching couldn’t under any circumstances, know that Soobin was about to tell you another secret he’d been keeping from you.

‘’ Ni-ki. It changes, but he’s the one they tell to follow me the most. I think it’s because of his background as a fighter, oh god- what would he do to me if…’’ Soobin rambled on to himself.

‘’ Soobin! I need you to calm down and tell me before he gets suspicious that you’re halfway out the door. ‘’

You felt like bile was rising up your throat and your hands felt clammy with anxiety. However, you knew that you had to be brave and order him around; who knows what they might do if the both of you get caught.

Soobin let out another shaky breath while raising his head to look at you. The crease on his forehead softened and he nodded promptly, realizing the urgency you were trying to convey.

‘’ There’s another secret I’ve been keeping from you. ‘’

‘’ Be quick, ‘’ you hissed.

‘’ Ever since that day when your dad saw us, they’ve been following me around and asking me to update on you and what you’re doing. ‘’

‘’ Why would you do that? ‘’

‘’ It’s fine, really, ‘’ he assured you. ‘’ I haven’t been telling them the whole truth of course, they don’t know about the revenge plans. But they followed us to the rooftop…the hospital and presumably my house too. ‘’

You sighed and the scowl returned to your face.

‘’ They didn’t just threaten to fire my dad. They also said that they would hurt you, y/n. ‘’

‘’ Don’t worry about me Soobin. You know they wouldn’t actually hurt me that bad. As long as they didn’t threaten to hurt you, it should be fine right? Don’t give them what they want. ‘’

‘’ It’s not that easy. ‘’ he tilted his head, ‘’ Why are you different? ‘’

It was easy to tell that he meant well, he just didn’t know how to word his concerns but it still felt like a personal attack.

‘’ What do you mean? ‘’ you spat back rather aggressively.

‘’ You are almost never worried anymore, you have an almost careless attitude. Have you given up? ‘’

Your angry scowl disappeared, the eyebrows sunk as well as the corners of your lips.

‘’ I feel…I don’t know- ‘’ you sighed.

‘’ Anxiety? Worry? Urgency? ‘’

‘’ All of them. ‘’

‘’ I’m here for you. You can always talk to me, and you know that. ‘’

‘’ I know. It’s just hard. I’ve never had someone like that before, I’m used to dealing with everything myself. ��’

‘’ As long as you’re trying, it’s okay, ‘’ he smiled fondly and you returned it.

Then you both thought of Ni-ki watching you at around the same time so the smiles disappeared almost as fast as they came.

‘’ What do we do about them following you? ‘’

‘’ I will keep you updated by text. ‘’

‘’ What if they go through your phone? ‘’

He stilled.

‘’ I will try my best to never make that happen, ‘’ his words came out more as a question, showing his uncertainty. But you had no other suggestions, so you just waved him off.

‘’ See you tomorrow. ‘’

‘’ Bye. ‘’

When he closed the door and walked away, the urge to turn your head and look at Ni-ki almost won over the persistent side of you. The car was started instead and you hurried to drive home, not wanting to sit in the silence with the pair of eyes watching you.

On the way home a thought popped into your head. Many others did as well, however, one in particular stuck and you kept thinking about it for the last few minutes of the drive.

If they were watching Soobin, were they watching you too?

*******

During the morning of the next day, Soobin texted you. It was a normal text, but for some reason, you felt a bit jumpy whenever your phone pinged and lit up with the text - new message.

It could either be from them, which was undeniably worse, or Soobin, who often texted you about them so it still made your heart beat faster. Escaping them had become pretty much impossible now; they were at school, in your phone, outside of school and near your home, in Soobin’s texts and their names had even been in your parents’ mouths too. Like parasites, they infested every part of your life when you foolishly thought it would only stay at school.

The worst part was how quickly it all escalated. Knowing they had seen you with Soobin, you guessed it was because of that. Still, you wondered why they didn’t bully him into stopping hanging out with you like they had with everyone else. Why did they want to go one step further with Soobin? Did they make this whole elaborate plan to make you never upset them or talk to anyone again, was it a game that brought them satisfaction or was there something else they were trying to do?

7:36 am

You: When did Ni-ki come to the parking lot yesterday?

Another thing that popped into your mind when you got paranoid about them following you too was that Ni-ki had seen you meet with Yena. If he did, all plans to use her would go out the window. However, even if he didn’t see you two you needed to be careful next time in case they would start to follow you. You had no idea how to meet her discreetly.

Cousin: I think when I did, I saw a car following me on the way

You: What if they’re following me too?

Cousin: It’s possible if they’ve split up

You: Oh no…

You: They could all spread out between everyone in my life, I don’t want my parents to be hurt

Cousin: I’m sure they won’t. They don’t have that much time on their hands anyway. But if you’re worried, don’t meet me at school so they have no idea that you know about them following me.

Cousin: You can text Yeonjun instead of me today. I’ll delete our conversation in case they go through my phone.

You: Yeonjun? He wants nothing to do with me

Cousin: I overheard what he said when you visited and I scolded him, he got grumpy of course but agreed to help if we fucked up

He sent Yeonjun’s number in the chat and you added it to your phone, naming him ‘’ grumpy cat ‘’.

Cousin: See you at school, stranger :)

You rolled your eyes and started getting ready for school. Several times on the way down the stairs, you checked your bag to ensure you hadn’t accidentally left a post-it note in there or anything else they could grab.

The school was pretty busy when you arrived, close to when the bell would ring. Many students surrounded you on all sides which you were a bit grateful for because you couldn’t see any of your bullies.

Inside the classroom, you spotted Soobin though. A small smile played on your lips, but you quickly caught yourself and let it fade meanwhile your eyes darted to the corner where they always sat.

They were there, all hunched over their desks like usual and busy talking, which thankfully meant they hadn’t seen you. You wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible so you snuck to the back where your chair waited for you, and sat down quietly.

In your peripheral vision, Soobin was moving around a lot. You assumed he was restless and had to stop himself from talking to you in front of the guys. He was forced to stay still not long after, when the teacher entered the classroom.

The sound of her voice quickly disappeared into the background as you daydreamed about lunch. You hoped that they would just let you be today, no punishments or bothering you like the first day you and Soobin ate.

*******

When the bell rang and the much-needed lunch break after the double lessons but also dreaded time came, you almost sprinted out first out of the classroom. They didn’t have the chance to get out before you and wait outside, not that you were sure that was on their minds; they seemed a lot more disinterested in you and focused on other things, even at school.

The phone in your pocket had vibrated a long time ago and you had spent the last ten minutes of the lesson unfocused, waiting for the bell to ring so you could see who had texted you.

Soobin looked after you as you left, a sad frown on his face due to him not being able to follow you. He had to push down the curiosity that washed over him, almost taking over the logical side and making him follow you anyway.

Far down the hallway, your head whipped in all directions to see where you could hide for a moment. The classrooms that were full soon emptied out and students poured into the hall where you were, giving you some shielding from the guys if they were looking for you.

Eventually, you spotted the girls’ bathroom and went in, closing yourself inside a stall and bringing the phone out.

12:06 pm

Y: New photos attached

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. It was Yena, she already had photos? Your thumb hesitated to click them, scared that you’d see something that would be hard to pretend you didn’t know of later. But, you pressed it anyway, quite suddenly before you kept hesitating.

The display flickered in the dark bathroom as the photos loaded in. It was hard to make out what was going on in them at first. They were quite dark, grainy and blurry, probably due to Yena being far away so they wouldn’t spot her.

Then the more you stared at it, the more clarity you felt you got. One of the photos featured two figures, it looked like it was Soobin’s dad and Jay’s dad. Under it, Yena had written context - 01:18 outside CN building.

CN? You recognized the name. A quick google search told you it was a huge company that had many smaller ones they were affiliated with. They had articles containing collaborations with a police station, schools, a courthouse and sponsored politicians. You scrolled down all the way on the wikipedia page - the CEO was Jay’s dad. You weren’t sure why, but it made you feel a bit sick.

This was one of the biggest companies in the country. They controlled so many small ones that they were almost taking over the economy as a whole. The scale of which you had estimated things to be, was so far off you almost felt dizzy. With so many supporting them and backing them, it felt like a given that there was corruption involved. That would almost certainly be the case for the upcoming election when Jay’s dad was running for mayor again.

However, that wasn’t the only reason you felt sick. You had a feeling that the loopholes this ultrarich person was allowed because of his power, had a high chance of extending to his son as well, maybe even their employees and their families which could be the other guys too.

You needed to find proof of their employment, and hopefully, Yeonjun could hack into their files. But given that they were a very rich and high-profile company, hacking into their system would be pretty impossible. You had no idea what plan B could be, infiltrating them, threatening them…giving up?

So, they could get away with anything, even murder and it would likely be swept under the rug. The victims like you, never got their justice and would be advised not to take them to court. That felt terrifying.

How the hell were you supposed to take down a whole empire like that? You were just a high school student.

Your head hit the wall behind you as you sighed deeply. The feelings of hopelessness and defeat had come back yet again. This was so much bigger than you could’ve ever imagined. With the company backing them all up and cleaning up all of their messes, they pretty much had an impenetrable defense.

Despite these recurring feelings, you still quickly scanned over the other three photos. The next one had one of the guys in it, Sunghoon with his dad. As you had suspected, he was the one Sunoo talked about who often went to illegal fights and gambled with his dad.

Normally you’d be ecstatic you had found something like this, but knowing what you knew now from the first picture it felt useless. That three-year prison sentence would be reduced to probation if you were lucky. They’d get their best, dirtiest lawyers from the company, and the only thing to come out of it would be you having to watch your back from then on.

Your eyes went to the next one. It featured Jungwon and Jay leaving a police station. Under it, it read - 10 pm, at the police station. Why were they there? Especially so late, and only the two of them.

You licked your lips as you thought for a moment. It was still until you came up with the idea to ask Yeonjun. You asked him if he could hack into police files, needing to see why they were there.

Since he didn’t answer you moved on to the other ones. One was really close, showing all seven of them spread out on the couch at Jungwon’s house, just talking and hanging out. Then the last one was Ni-ki, Jake, and Heeseung leaving the hospital with a girl. You squinted and pressed the photo very close to your face; it was the girl from your school, the one you had seen them visit.

For a moment, you had forgotten about her. Now you gasped and realized you needed to find out more about her. Why was she there, why did she have those same wounds as you did and was she working with them? Also, why had your bullies never mentioned her…

A loud knock made you jump. ‘’ Are you done soon? ‘’

You relaxed, it was just some random girl who wanted to use the bathroom. You feared the worst for a second - that they had ignored all rules, because well, they didn’t really apply to them, and had just barged into the girls’ bathroom.

‘’ I’ll be out in a second, ‘’ you shouted back.

The person waiting outside had to step back when you pushed the door open. You raised your head to look at them before getting out of the way and froze mid-step.

‘’ Jiyun, right? ‘’

She also halted her movements, her fingers that were curled around the stall’s door dug into the green metal rather aggressively.

‘’ Yeah, y/n? ‘’ she answered, only turning her head a bit to the side so she could glance back at you.

It was the girl from the hospital. Her name had been at the tip of your tongue then, but it seemed you hadn’t remembered it fully until now when the stars had aligned and made you two meet just after you thought of her. Maybe she could give you some answers now.

‘’ Do you have time to talk? ‘’

‘’ Does it look like I do? ‘’

Without thinking you reached out your hand and grabbed her wrist when she tried to get into the cubicle again.

‘’ What the fuck are you doing? ‘’

She tried flinging her arms to shake you off, but you were more determined and the grip only became tighter. You yanked her back and despite her resisting and trying her best to hold onto the door, you managed to throw her back on the third try. A cry broke from her lips.

Then you released your grip, because you didn’t want her to be scared or think you had bad intentions. Instead of standing close to her or holding her, you opted for standing between the cubicle and her, angling towards the door as well in case she’d try to make a run for it.

‘’ Those guys have hurt me too, ‘’ you rolled up your sleeves, showing the wounds that had now started to heal.

She didn’t flinch like everyone else did. She just stared at it, an unreadable expression flashed across her face and her eyes flickered.

‘’ I know. ‘’

‘’ You…know? ‘’ you breathed out, ‘’ Have they told you about me? ‘’

She hesitated so you hurried to speak up before she had made her mind up, ‘’ Are they bullying you? ‘’

Her mouth opened and then closed again. You two stood in silence; you waiting for her to speak, and her hesitating and rethinking what she was going to say over and over.

‘’ It’s complicated, ‘’ she ended up mumbling after your patience was starting to run out.

‘�� How is it complicated? ‘’ you stepped closer, trying to look compassionate but also feeling like you needed to be quick.

‘’ You can talk to me, we’re in the same boat! We might be able to help each other. ‘’

Her demeanor switched. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards, in a sarcastic smile, perfectly fitting the darkness that had filled her glossy and anxious eyes she’d had just a second ago.

‘’ Help? ‘’ she let out a small high-pitched laugh, ‘’ There’s no one that can help us, y/n. Haven’t you realized that yet? ‘’

Now it was your turn to be quiet. You felt baffled at this unexpected side of her. It couldn’t have been long since they started hurting her, you couldn’t imagine the amount of pain they must’ve put her through for her to break so soon. Your heart ached for her, but there was something in her dead eyes that told you there was no saving her - she had given up a long time ago.

‘’ Why did they visit you in the hospital? ‘’

‘’ You know them as well as I do. Because they’re sadistic assholes, they came there to cherish the pain that their very own hands had caused. ‘’

You weren’t sure what to say. Letting the silence follow people’s words often lead to them revealing more information, you knew this from past experiences. It seemed you were spot on, as she continued not long after, her bitter voice echoing in the bathroom.

‘’ They were smiling from ear to ear the whole time, ‘’ she scoffed and bit her lip as she looked away, letting some vulnerability shine through now.

‘’ I’m sorry. ‘’

She didn’t answer.

‘’ Are they forcing you to do things? ‘’

‘’ Of course they are. I guess in a way, I wasn’t as lucky as you were. They’re not in love with me, I’m just their punching bag. ‘’

‘’ Lucky? ‘’ you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows.

‘’ Yes, lucky. The others get twice as much pain as you do, many of the guys can’t stand to see their princess hurt, and you know that. They would do anything for you- even kill. If I were you I’d use that. ‘’

‘’ I don’t know how to. ‘’

‘’ Well, I hope you do soon enough. Because they’re using me to get to you, so there’s not much I can do to help you since they keep me on a leash. I have about- ‘’ she glanced down at the clock around her wrist, ‘’ Ten more minutes before they barge in here, asking why I’m taking so long. ‘’

‘’ What are they making you do? ‘’ you felt confused, and slight panic started building up inside.

‘’ You’ll see soon enough. Just know I’m sorry in advance. I didn’t have a choice. ‘’

You whipped around to ask for more questions but she was already halfway to the door. She didn’t give you a chance to speak, hurrying to exit without looking back. When the door was about to close you heard a male voice that you recognized, Heeseung had been waiting outside just like she said they would.

A few more minutes passed. You felt that it was smartest to wait in case they knew you were inside and waited for you as well. When about five minutes had passed and you heard no voices from the hallway outside, you carefully pressed down the door handle and creaked it open, as if the slightest noise would make them come running.

But they didn’t need to, they were already there. As soon as you stepped out fully and closed the door, you were grabbed from behind. A large hand came up to cover your mouth, muffling the screams of protest, but your eyes were left untouched. Wriggling in the arms of the person holding you back, you managed to turn your head.

The sight of Ni-ki, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Jake greeted you, all smiling widely; the fact that Jungwon and Heeseung the two scariest ones, weren’t there felt a bit unnerving but you had no idea why.

Then quite suddenly you were freed; the hands around you let go, causing you to stumble forward awkwardly as you lost balance. You didn’t waste a second to turn to them, paranoid of having your back turned the wrong way again.

‘’ Why did you do that? ‘’ your voice had an edge to it that didn’t go unnoticed by the guys.

‘’ In case you’d scream, ‘’ Jay answered, he must’ve been the one holding you back.

‘’ What do you want? ‘’

‘’ You’ve got an attitude lately, haven’t you? ‘’

It was Jake’s voice, and it took everything in you not to either lunge at him or spit something aggressively back, you couldn’t let him know he had affected you.

‘’ I’m just not as scared of you as I used to be. ‘’

‘’ Really? Jungwon told us something different, ‘’ he said tauntingly, sinister glee shining through his tone.

His words stung. Humiliated, you cursed under your breath as heat rose to your cheeks. You heard some chuckles behind him but you weren’t sure from who, your eyes were darting anxiously in between things that were anywhere but him because you weren’t sure if you’d be able to keep your brave face if they did land there.

‘’ I don’t want to talk to you right now, ‘’ you finally caved in.

He cooed. ‘’ Is it because of last night? ‘’

You couldn’t take it anymore. With your heart in your throat, you started running. To the end of the hallway and down the stairs. You weren’t even sure where you were going, all you knew was that you had to get away.

The footsteps that echoed in your head were hard to know if they were your own or if they were following you behind. You kept running in case they were, and you didn’t stop until all the air inside your lungs had been used up. Having reached the cafeteria, you stopped to catch your breath, panting loudly.

A hand touched you, making you jump and yelp loudly. As a defense mechanism, you brought your arms up to protect yourself.

‘’ Y/n? It’s me. ‘’

You relaxed at the familiar voice, coming out soft and laced with concern. You looked up at Soobin and then pulled him towards you, leaning forward so you could look around the corner. They hadn’t followed you, the corridor was empty thankfully.

You released a shaky breath and rested against the wall behind. Soobin looked worried.

‘’ Are you okay? ‘’

‘’ I think so, I ran from them. Do you think that would make them mad? ‘’

‘’ Possibly. But they didn’t run after you, so I’d guess no. ‘’

‘’ Who knows what they’re thinking. They’re so unpredictable. ‘’

‘’ They’re probably doing it on purpose to throw us off. Did you ask them if they were following you too by the way? Or did they mention anything about watching me yesterday, giving any hints that they know what we’re up to? ‘’

You blinked, overwhelmed with all of his rapid questions being thrown at you. Soobin threw his hands up, smiling guiltily.

‘’ Sorry, that was a lot. ‘’

‘’ We didn’t talk for long, so no not that I can remember. ‘’

‘’ Anything else you can remember then? Did they seem off? ‘’

‘’ They have been lately. I guess the weird thing was that Jungwon and Heeseung were the only ones that weren’t there, it made me feel uneasy. ‘’

‘’ Because they have some more authority over the others?

You hummed.

‘’ What could they have been doing? ‘’

‘’ I have no idea. But are we sure we want to find out? ‘’

*******

Your hands were empty when you entered the police station after school, which maybe said a lot about how it wasn’t a fool-proof plan. After the whole run-in with Jake, you made up your mind then and there that you’d try to take him down with this. It may be a feeble attempt at getting justice. But, even if there was a high chance of it not succeeding, a part of you wanted to try something big like that so you could really see with your own two eyes if Jay’s dad had all their backs as you thought. You weren’t sure how their reactions would be, but surely they would stop you if they really were following you.

It was busy inside. The volume was very high, people were shouting over each other and the policemen had trouble controlling some. You grimaced and pushed past everyone with your elbows tucked near your sides.

At the end of the room was a bigger desk that had a woman sitting behind it. The sign on the desk told you it was the reception, although many seemed to neglect that fact as they were busy antagonizing the officers, claiming their matters were more important.

‘’ Hello, how can I help you? ‘’

‘’ I’m here to file a report, um- ‘’ you ticked your tongue, not sure how you could explain it.

It wasn’t a break-in, because your dad willingly let him come inside, and it wasn’t really a robbery either. You struggled to find the right words, pleading with your eyes to make the receptionist understand you anyway.

She smiled warmly, seemingly understanding you just had trouble expressing yourself.

‘’ Is it related to sexual harassment? ‘’

‘’ Kind of, ‘’ you titled your head.

‘’ I will assign you this gentleman, please sit down, tell him your concern, and follow his instructions. ‘’

She gestured to the man sitting closest to the desk, on her left side. He looked very young, probably only a few years older than you, so a possible rookie cop. But, you didn’t discriminate. All you hoped was that he’d take you seriously and help you in any way he could.

He smiled at you when you sat down and you returned it. ‘’ Hi, I’m here regarding a police report I want to file. ‘’

‘’ What is the subject of the report? ‘’

The politeness was replaced with pure professionalism from his side which you really appreciated, he just got right into it.

‘’ Eh, well…I think sexual harassment or sexual crime. ‘’

The typing stopped, and his head raised. You were given a questioning look.

‘’ My dad falsely let in someone that I wasn’t close to into our house, I guess you could say. And he- he stole my underwear, ‘’ you swallowed harshly, feeling small under his stern gaze.

‘’ Did you check everywhere? ‘’

‘’ I did, I’m sure it’s gone. ‘’

‘’ Do you have proof of that? ‘’

You stilled. No, you didn’t really. That realization made you lose hope and motivation, your sweaty hands rubbed against the material of your jeans.

‘’ I don’t know, ‘’ you confessed lowly.

He sighed, a polite smile appeared on his lips again and he looked tired, not irritated. He probably did believe you, but there was a procedure he had to follow for it to even go through the system.

‘’ Any CCTV of him inside, entering or exiting your house. Any witness statements, etcetera?‘’

‘’ I-, do I need to have that now or can the police help me gather those? ‘’

‘’ We can help you gather CCTV if there are any in your building, they should show him entering or exiting. However, I have to warn you. If there are no witnesses and the footage doesn’t show him holding the item, it might go nowhere. ‘’

‘’ So search his house for it, ‘’ you shrugged.

He chuckled. ‘’ Getting a warrant is very hard. ‘’

You took some time to make up your mind, sighing before finalizing it.

‘’ It’s worth a try. ‘’

‘’ Okay, let’s go. ‘’

taglist; @peaceout97blog-blog, @ayadikreino, @beoms-sugar, @keikeu, @sunghoonnsupremacy, @lilyalone, @sweet-kisses-and-bloody-screams, @eunchaesmileyface, @nunugget, @seunns, @nshmrarki, @huening-ly, @espyluvsyou, @yncel, @loserwithnofriends, @enha-stan, @binchanluvrr, @ariek-divad, @obsessed1with1straykids, @yizhoutv, @taeyongzodiactwinkiri, @w3bqrl

#enha the glory #yandere kpop #kpop yandere #yandere enha #yandere enhypen #enha x reader

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kirby-manga-translated · 2 months

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Kirby Manga Double Bill + A Fanfiction?!

Solid Snake voice: Kept you waiting, huh?

Finishing off the requests in my queue (at least for the time being), I present to you two chapters! One from Manmaru Nikki and one from Mopupu. And yes, you read that title correctly, there's a special surprise after them as well! Well not a surprise I guess since it's in the title but very special! Anyways, let's just get to the manga, eh?

Kirby: Manmaru Nikki (AKA Daily Round Diary) - Volume 4, Bonus Chapter 2 English Translation

Starting off with a quick little retelling of Cinderella with Kirby characters in all the roles! Though this one is short, I still feel like I got some good translation work in there. A lovely morsel of Kirby manga that can be read in full at the following links:

Imgur

MangaDex

Google Drive

Next up, it's

Kirby: Moretsu Pupupu Hour - Volume 7, Chapter 8 English Translation

A full-sized chapter here about Kirby leaving and the manga getting a new main character that definitely isn't just Kirby wearing a costume! King Dedede is left to figure out what's going on and how to convince the others that it's obviously just Kirby wearing a costume. Read the full thing at the following links:

Imgur

MangaDex

Google Drive

Now what was that about a fanfiction?

It's true, dear readers: I have dabbled in fanficcery! It's kind of like translating a manga chapter except instead of translating Japanese into readable English I have to translate my internal thought process into readable English.

It's a nice and simple story about Kirby wanting to eat a cake but not being allowed to eat said cake and all the emotion and heartbreak that occurs as a result, featuring King Dedede, Daroach, Adeleine, and Magolor. It's the very first fanfic I've ever written, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. It might not Wham Bam Rock your socks off but it could, uh... Fatty Whale your... scales off? Look just read the thing at this link if you want

Whew! Looks like you've got some reading to catch up on. It hopefully won't take me this long to update again since I'm not planning on writing another fanfic anytime soon (but maybe someday...). Hope you enjoy the chapters and please let me know what you think of my fanfic!

#kirby #kirby manga #king dedede #meta knight #kirby fanfiction #nintendo #if youre wondering why i waited until all three of these were done to actually post any of them here my answer is 'idk lol'

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omorimodreverie · 2 months

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Reverie Dev Log - 2024 January + February

Overview

January and February saw ups and downs in activity, but overall significant progress was made. The start of the year was initially slow due to breaks, but activity picked up slowly. You may have noticed that there were less promotional posts or updates in general during this time, as we were focused on development. Thanks to these efforts, though, we’re fairly optimistic that this will be the final dev log for Chapter 3.

As for me (Stahl) personally, I have not been able to do much this time round as I have been busy (hence lack of public updates), but this time round invaluable progress was made by others in the team.

Quick rundown:

First round of playtesting has been done - This was a very rudimentary one aimed at finding basic bugs

NPCs are now mostly finished, and our writers are now working on flavor text and side writings

Portraits are all done and implemented

Battles have been planned out in more detail

Various organizational changes

Extra writers and RPGMV members have been recruited

Updates

The first round of playtesting is complete! This one was rather rudimentary, containing only basic story points. The aim was to test progression and to fix major bugs, both of which we’ve now finished. There are still some major aspects missing, like flavor texts and quests but vital components to main progression like cutscenes and maps are completed and being tested. Hopefully, this round of playtesting should wrap up soon, and more will follow.

Minor and Side contents

There’s still a lot of design decisions to make, mostly regarding seemingly minor aspects of the game that actually take large amounts of resources. A lot of thought must be put into whether these features, like flavor text and shops, are worth the amount of time needed to make them, and if so how much.

Due to this chapter being a real world section and story centric, the remaining gameplay would be left to mostly side quests. This is an interesting challenge, as unlike base Omori, Sunny is not familiar with the city like back in Faraway town, meaning it’s more challenging to find opportunities to give him quests.

As for Reverie specific side content, battles won’t completely be abandoned in the real world. They’ll be taking forms in various challenge battles found throughout the city. For a rough idea, think of the Jackson poster found in Hobbeez from the base game.

Miscellaneous Changes

Another thing yet to be done are tweaks to previous chapter content. They will mostly affect quality of life, but some will also be major gameplay changes. Here’s some examples of planned changes (not exhaustive):

Picnic allows the player to change difficulty mid game (Trust me, later dream world chapters will feature major difficulty spikes and players may get stuck)

Hit Rates on equipment changed, mostly heavily nerfed. This makes evasion buffs actually relevant (and also, 300% hit rate is just silly).

Some skills entirely changed (e.g. Spaceboy Preserve will change into another Attack skill instead).

In game info to indicate that emotion influences Enemy AI very strongly in reverie compared to base game.

Conclusion

Overall, development on chapter 3 is reaching its later stages, reaching the first round of playtesting. This should hopefully be the last dev log in relation to Chapter 3 development.

As thanks for reading this far, here is a remade portrait of real world Sunny! It’s a bit more softer than the previous one, and the proportion has been improved as well.

#omori #omori mod #mod #omorimodreverie #reverie #omori reverie #devlog

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aesopsharpmybeloved · 2 months

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Tess' Sharpuary - 12. Bad Day (*)

After a frankly ghastly day, Aesop looks forward to spending some lovely alone time with his beloved.

chapter specific tags: 18+!, explicit, established relationship

relationships: aesop sharp x reader

(FULL PICTURE UNDER THE CUT)

12. Bad day (1.1k)

tw: explicit, oral sex, vaginal sex, age difference (reader is an adult)

It was a difficult day for the professor. His mood was rotten since he got up in the morning, the chill of winter seeping seemingly into his very bones, making him shiver uncomfortably as he dressed himself. Despite being wrapped in all of his layers not five minutes later, it did little to chase away the chilly feeling. Breakfast in the Great Hall tasted like ash to him, despite most likely being as well made as usual, and when he accidentally bit on a piece of eggshell and spilt tea on himself, he just knew it was going to be a shitty day.

His classes that day were dull and boring, and Aesop actually found himself missing the Weasley lad. For all of the chaos he caused, the ginger’s antics sure broke through the dull day-to-day routine. His only saving grace was the knowledge he’d be seeing his sweetheart after he was done with his lectures for the day.

He could already see it, once more enclosing her in his embrace, her hot lips upon his neck, her sweet scent tickling his nose, her brilliant eyes smiling at him as her mouth did. And then, after they had their surely delicious dinner, he’d take her to bed. He’d bring her to her peak, first only with his hands and mouth, then he’d enter her and take her right back to the edge, following close behind.

He shook his head. He shouldn’t indulge in such lovely fantasies now, in case he needed to rise from his desk. That could get a little embarrassing and uncomfortable.

Nevertheless, it was this mental image of his that ended up getting him through the day, and the moment the last student left his classroom, Aesop rushed out behind them. Poor second year must’ve been frightened to death as the intimidating teacher powerwalked in their direction, but Aesop didn’t spare the lad a single look as he passed him, heading straight to the northern exit from the castle.

He wasted no time disapparating to his home but was disappointed to find the large house entirely empty. Well, not truly entirely. Diana was there, perched upon one of his chairs in the dining room, seeming perfectly content there. She looked at him momentarily, but then turned her head away, and went right back to her little nap. The letter she brought him was laid upon the table, and Aesop tore it open, not bothering to summon his pen knife.

‘Dear Aesop,’ it read,

‘forgive me, my love, I’ll be coming a bit later today, we’ve got ourselves a bit of a Niffler problem in one of the hamlets. I’ll be there as soon as I’m able to.

Yours,

(F/N) (L/N)’

So. That was that. Aesop dropped into another chair heavily, his sour mood prevailing. Wallowing in it for the following five minutes, he decided to shorten the time he’d have to wait for her by actually fixing some supper for them.

He went with steak and kidney pie, which would fill them nicely, but hopefully wouldn’t cause them to feel overeaten. After all, Aesop had a different kind of filling in mind, and he felt the desire bubble in his veins.

It was only after she finally got home did he start feeling normal. His frown faded as soon as he saw the white of her teeth when she smiled, and the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach dissipated when their lips connected, and as she held his hand while they were eating, his meal tasted brilliantly, he found. She needn’t have talked - she knew that his day wasn’t good, and she knew what he wanted. And luckily for him, it would seem her appetite extended long past the food.

As their lips connected in a feverish, ardent kiss, their hands working to relieve the other of their clothing, Aesop finally felt great. And soon, his stiffness throbbed in her mouth as he stretched her out for him with his fingers and teased at her little pearl with his tongue. His free hand gripped at the plush flesh of her bottom, giving it a small swat every now and then, and each time her teeth scraped at his sensitive skin lightly, he felt like he was going to burst into her throat.

The feeling of approaching release was what made him gently move her off him and onto the bed next to him. He needed to come inside her, he needed to feel the proof of their pleasure mingling within her opening. He positioned his sweetheart on her stomach, and placed a pillow under her hips, before covering her smaller body with his own and entering her. One of his hands immediately took hold of her breast, kneading the soft flesh in his large hand, all the while placing hot kisses and little bites on the nape of her neck, her sweet sounds of pleasure music to his ears.

Even in this position, he was able to capture her lips and drink the moans and whines from them thirstily, his hips plunging into her own rhythmically, his throbbing shaft filling her perfectly. He whispered words of love and passion against the scorching hot skin of her back and made little constellations out of the freckles there using his tongue.

His free hand closed around her neck gently when she arched her back as much as she could in this position, when her head was thrown back, and her mouth opened in a choked cry of his name. She trusted him completely, trusted him to never hurt her, and didn’t fight the hand on her neck at all.

Half a dozen hard thrusts later, Aesop joined her in the orgasmic bliss, hyperaware of his seed spilling into her in short bursts, while his entire body filled with pleasure. He released a quiet moan when he buried himself in her entirely for the last time, remaining where he was and keeping them joined.

He let his body give way to the pleasure and collapsed onto her on the bed. She didn’t seem to mind, that is, she was long past minding when the aftershocks still made her tremble below him. Finally, Aesop rolled away, his softened cock wet with their combined fluids. She wasted no time in cuddling up to him, nosing at his neck, her hair tickling him gently. His arms enveloped her and pulled her close, as he took deep gulps of the warm air around them.

“Would you like to talk?” she offered after several minutes, and he opened his eyes and gave her a soft smile.

“Thank you, love,” he replied gently, stroking her smooth cheek, “I’d like to…”

[Uncensored]

---

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed ❤

[AO3] - [Sharpuary 2024] - [Masterlist]

#aesop sharp #professor sharp #hogwarts legacy #my art #reader insert #drawing #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x mc #hogwarts legacy fanart #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #digital art #sharpuary #sharpuary 2024

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underforeversgrace · 5 months

Text

bent but not yet broken - 1

title: bent but not yet broken

words: 933

Finally, it's Ecto-Implosion time! I was partnered with the amazing @deathcomes4u and their absolutely AMAZING artwork!

Story Summary:

How short a time had Danny even been here? He’d already lost track of the days. Had he been here a week? A month? It was amazing what a void time became when every second was an all-consuming pain.

Danny Phantom has been captured by the GIW. The students of Casper High are protesting. Sam and Tucker have been notably absent, working with the Fentons to get Danny back.

What happens when the GIW bring back the hero, muzzled and beaten, on display for all of Casper High to see?

Chapter 1 of 7: Smothered by the Dusk

AO3

Tumblr Chapter Two will be here.

~~~~~~

Danny had thought the pain would get more manageable the longer the Guys in White had him. That the more he suffered, the more numb he’d become.

He was wrong.

Every breath he drew made his chest burn - though he was still unsure if that was from the Y-incision (half healed and haphazardly stitched) or the excised lung. Who knew a person could live with only one lung?

He’s a ghost, he doesn’t need to breathe! one of the agents had said.

And if his heart weren’t beating, I’d be inclined to agree with you, another had said. We should be careful, he’s very human.

That had been the one - and only - time Danny’d had hope since his capture. It had still been his first hour in their custody, all they’d done to him by that point had been the muzzle and subsequent electrocutions. When they called him human, he thought they’d stop; he thought that maybe they were more human than he and his little band had believed.

And that was when he’d gotten to listen to a debate on whether or not they could remove at least one of his lungs safely - humans with severe illness or damage to a single lung could often live full lives, after all, they’d said.

For humans, it was a last resort. For him, it was a fun start to a science experiment. In eager and excited voices, while he was chained down to a cold table, a muzzle that burned his skin strapped to his face, they discussed all the things they wanted to do to him before taking his other lung and heart - it was the last thing they wanted to do.

They didn’t want to kill him too soon.

Danny, by now, wished they had cut his heart out the first day, and that (hopefully) it would’ve let him die.

Though it may not have killed him. Apparently, he was regrowing the stolen lung, based on the scientists’ ‘follow up exploratory surgeries.’

And, as fascinating as that had been, it had led to them curiously amputating his hand and sewing it back on.

He still wasn’t sure if he was relieved or horrified when his hand had successfully reattached to his wrist after only a few days. Relieved that, well, his hand wasn’t gone.

Horrified because of how much worse this capture could be if he was unable to be killed.

How short a time had he even been here? He’d already lost track of the days. Had he been here a week? A month? It was amazing what a void time became when every second was an all-consuming pain.

Danny had tried a few methods, at first, to keep track of the comings and goings of the agents, to see if that helped him keep time. It hadn’t - sometimes he’d see the same agents for multiple back to back experiments, sometimes he’d see them every two or three, sometimes he was left alone.

In the long list of things he was unsure of was if it was worse when the experiments were going or when they weren’t. He was always in pain, regardless, but when he was alone, all he had were his thoughts and the unimpeded view of the reflective glass above him, allowing him to catalog his injuries in excruciating detail.

At least when the scientists were there, he could get lost in the hum of their voices. It was fascinating information, really, it was. So long as he didn’t acknowledge it was him they were talking about. Plus, when they were present, he got shots of extra power suppressant, which made his mind all flowy and the pain hazy, if only for a little while.

Danny laid there, by himself for now, and stared up at the ceiling, at his own reflection. This had been the longest he’d ever been left alone since he got here.

His jumpsuit could regenerate on its own, but it never had been able to fully mend between the scientists’ visits. Now, however, it was in pristine condition, and had been for over a hundred of his slow heartbeats (his only somewhat consistent measure of time in this hellhole).

It was nice to not see the scars that covered nearly every inch of his body, even if they pulsed with pain that still left him acutely aware of them. He almost looked like himself again - if he ignored the glowing green cage over the lower half of his face, connected to a collar circling his throat, skin severely burned along the edges of it all. The edge of the muzzle dug into his skin and the gag between his teeth forced his jaw open. It had stolen his voice, stolen away his ability to scream and beg for mercy.

He could feel where his teeth had cracked and his jaw had fractured from all the times he’d still tried, though. The sounds of his cries stayed stuck in his throat through all of it, and the silent screams were pulled from him whether he wanted them to or not.

Pulling his gaze from the muzzle back to his suit, his mind wandered. If his suit had had so long to heal… why would they leave him alone this long? The last thing they had done was give him an injection directly into his heart that had made his entire body feel sore. Were they finally done with him?

…then why not just kill him? They weren’t just going to leave him here, strapped down like a biology experiment to rot forever, right?

…right?

#grace writes #danny phantom #danny fenton #ectoimplosion2023 #cw gore #cw violence #i don't even know what all content warnings this needs tbh

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loslentesdepedrito · 4 months

Text

I'm Your Wife- Chapter Seven

Javi gif by: @skyshipper Jack gif by: @javier-pena My Masterlist

Pairing: Jack Daniels ‘Agent Whiskey’x Spanish-speaking f!reader and Javier Peña x Spanish-speaking f!reader (Spanish translations are provided.)

Previous Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter Six

Word count: 9.2k+

Chapter summary: It's time for Ángel's surgery and the transplant preparation. Following the procedure, Jack visits his son, providing some closure regarding your marriage.

A/N: This chapter concludes the final installment of the series and stands as my penultimate post on this blog. Next week, hopefully, I'll be sharing one more post—a Din piece—officially wrapping up this blog. I intend to maintain my writing for another two weeks before ultimately closing my account. Thank you to everyone who has supported me!

Rating: 18+ No explicit content, but this is an 18+ page. Warning contains spoilers, but please read if you'd like!!! They are below the cut, but if you don't want to read them, the story starts after the Whiskey bottles. Also, Jack's texts are in bold.

CW: angst is back again, but a happy ending is guaranteed, some science, mentions of surgery, chemotherapy, and stem cell transplant, Jack cannot use an iPhone, Javi and Jack tension, jealousy, pregnancy, divorce, and childhood disease.

Your conversation with Jack three hours ago left you drained and exhausted, and now you're perched on the chair in the corner of your son's hospital room. You're engrossed in watching Ángel and Javi talk about an upcoming soccer game and the probability of their favorite team winning the match when your phone vibrates underneath your thigh. With a subtle shift, you reach for it and once it’s in your hand, you flip it over. Your phone is illuminated with a family picture of you with your husband and son in the background and there’s a message on your Notification Center.

Jack Daniels: HI. TEXTING YOU FROM MY NEW PHONE.

Another vibration follows, prompting a second message.

Jack Daniels: WHY DID THE TEXT SEND IN UPPERCASE?

The sequence of messages from Jack continues, each notification accompanied by a vibration.

Jack Daniels: HOW DO I TURN THIS OFF?

Jack Daniels: HELP me. Wait, I figured it out. Sorry.

You haven’t clicked on the messages to take you to the chat. Instead, you hold and press, sending him a brief response:

Hi, Jack.

He doesn’t send anything back, and you turn off your phone. As soon as the screen is black, it lights up again.

Jack Daniels: I went to the store and picked up a new phone.

A second later, an image comes through.

You hover over the message once more, and it’s a front selfie Jack took. Well, it’s not quite a full-face selfie. It only captures just beneath his eyes, and his eyes and face are not looking directly at the camera, so you guess he was looking down trying to take a picture of something else.

You’re proven correct when a second picture comes through. This time it’s a box of an iPhone.

There’s a bubble on your text chain, and this time you fully click, opening the message thread with Jack.

Sorry, I don’t know how this phone works. I just didn’t want my phone to fail, and you didn’t have a way to contact me, so I got a new one. Did I miss anything?

You reply back with:

Ángel is already ready to go, we’re just waiting for a room to open up in the OR. Could take hours, though.

How did he take the news?

Very well, actually. Saying he’s excited to go home is an understatement. He sensed that we were worried about his surgery and he kind of gave us a lecture on how important it is to listen to doctors and gave us a small list of the benefits of chemo ports. When we asked him how he knew about the port, he said, and I quote, "some light reading."

Jack doesn’t take long to reply:

Smart boy. He definitely got that from you.

A smile graces your lips at his message, but you decide to shift the conversation:

We never talked about it, but do you want us to tell Ángel that you’re his donor?

Your nerves are on edge, and waiting for Jack’s response heightens your anxiety. Glancing up from your phone, you see Ángel still in deep conversation with Javi. Your phone vibrates again, and you look down at Jack’s response:

No. I don’t want him to want a relationship with me because of the donation. If he wants a relationship with me, I want it to be because he truly wants it, not because he feels any obligation.

You exhale, relieved, and reply:

Okay, we won’t tell him.

Thank you.

A text bubble appears:

How do I send the accent on his name?

Suppressing a laugh, your fingers glide over the keyboard:

Press the letter A for a good two seconds, and a whole lot of options should appear. Click on the third one.

It doesn’t take Jack very long to send a single:

He follows with:

Be honest, does it sound a bit funny when I pronounce his name?

You weigh your options, lie or be honest. You decide to go with the latter:

A little bit.

I remember when you used to make fun of my accent…

Liar. I didn’t make fun of you.

I miss that...

Oh, God, not again.

You’re about to reprimand him when, by some divine intervention, a fist knocks on the door, followed by a man in a polo and khakis. Quickly, you turn your phone off, redirecting your full attention to the man.

“Hi, I’m Will. I’m with patient transport services, and I’m here to take Ángel down to the OR,” he says.

“Come in,” you invite.

Javi stands up and retrieves your thick to-go bag from underneath the sofa. It's filled with water bottles, a variety of snacks, sweaters, sweatpants, and a few changes of clothes—because, as Javi says, uno nunca sabe (one never knows).

Will walks over to Ángel and looks at his hospital bracelet. He takes out a phone with a bulky blue case and scans the ID barcode. Will asks to no one in particular, “Can you please confirm his full name and date of birth.”

Javi does that for you.

Will nods and types something onto the phone. After a moment, he looks at Ángel, “Hey, little man, how are you doing?”

Ángel smiles, “I’m good, sir. I'm just waiting to get my chemo port. After that, I can get chemo and then a transplant so I can go home.”

Will chuckles, “That's a great plan, buddy. We’ll get you down to the OR, and they’ll take good care of you so you can go home soon. Ready to go to the sixth floor?”

Ángel nods enthusiastically, his eyes filled with trust.

“Great,” Will says, glancing at you and Javi. “If you guys are ready, we can head downstairs.”

Javi, lifting the heavy bag over his shoulder, nods in agreement. He glances at Ángel, a mix of tenderness and concern in his eyes, and then turns to Will.

“He’ll be under anesthesia, right?” Javi asks, his voice a bit gruffer than usual.

Will offers a reassuring smile, “Yes, sir. That's what his chart says.”

Javi nods, visibly swallowing some of his worry. “Okay, let’s get him down there.” He moves to help his son get up from the bed. Will positions the wheelchair closer to Ángel's bed, and together, they carefully lower Ángel onto the wheelchair. You reach for one of the blankets—a gift from your father-in-law—and drape it over Ángel. Will takes the IV wire and secures it on the designated hook at the back of the wheelchair.

"Are we all set?" Will asks.

"Yes," you affirm, and then Will wheels Ángel toward the door. Javi, anticipating the need, beats them to the exit, opens the door, and holds it wide open to let them pass. Stepping into the corridor, Javi instinctively reaches for your hands, intertwining fingers not just for your comfort but for his own solace as well. Together, you trail behind your son as Will expertly steers Ángel's wheelchair through the hallway.

Descending from the tenth floor via the patient elevators, you and Javi follow Will, who scans his badge to usher you through the double doors into the pre-op room.

Guiding Ángel to the left side of the room, Will selects a quiet corner and draws back a side of the arctic blue diamond-print curtains, revealing an unoccupied bed. Positioning the wheelchair beside the bed, he assists Ángel in transitioning onto the soft mattress.

"Alright, good luck, buddy. You'll do great in there," Will encourages, raising a fist. Ángel meets it with his own, and as their fists connect, they both playfully mimic the sound of an explosion.

"Thanks, sir," Ángel replies, his voice carrying gratitude. Then, in a quiet and unsure tone, he adds, "I'll see you after?"

Will's smile is reassuring. "Absolutely. I'll be the one taking you back up."

With that, Will takes a step back, giving Ángel some space. He turns to you and your husband, saying, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Peña, Mrs. Peña. Someone should be with you shortly."

"Thanks for everything, Will," you say, watching as Will, with a warm smile, exits and closes the curtain, providing you with some privacy with your son.

With only one chair in the room, Javi insists you take a seat, not wanting you on your feet.

"¿Y tú? (what about you?)" you ask, concern etched in your voice and face. Maybe it's because you went so long without a partner prioritizing you, or because in the time your son has been in the hospital, Javier has really taken care of almost everything. Sometimes you can't help but feel guilty that he always puts your comfort above his own.

"Me paro (I’ll stand)," Javi shrugs his shoulders as if it's the most obvious choice in the world.

"Papi, you can sit here," Ángel offers, patting the mattress.

"Está bien (it's okay), mijo, I can stand for a while," he smiles, loving that his son is always considerate.

"Baja ese bolso (put down that bag), at least," you plead with him.

"I'm good, someone should be here soon," Javi reassures.

"Pero, Javi- (but, Javi-)" You're interrupted when you hear a woman asking if she can come in.

He smirks and whispers, "Ves (see)." Dropping his cocky look, Javi opens the curtain to let the woman in.

"Hello, my name is Dr. Gaddi. I'll be Angel's anesthesiologist. Can I please get a full name and a birthday?"

Your son happily responds to the doctor's requests while she verifies the information on the computer.

"Great, thank you, sweetheart. Mom or Dad, I'll need your signature on the consent forms. If one of you will please follow me," she says.

"I'll go," Javi says, and to your relief, he finally drops the bag from his shoulder.

"It's just straight this way," the anesthesiologist says, motioning past the curtain where the nurse station is in the middle of the big room.

Javier nods and follows the doctor. "Ya vengo mis amores (I’ll be back my loves)," he says with a big smile before closing the curtain.

Once on the other side of the curtain, where you and his son can't see him, he exhales a shaky breath. The fear is there, gnawing at him, although he doesn't want to show it. He wishes he could share it with you, as he normally would, but you're pregnant. The stress is already too much, and he doesn't want it to affect the baby. That thought terrifies him, and he can't risk it. Through the course of your marriage, he's come to understand that sometimes, marriage isn't a perfect fifty-fifty. There are moments when one partner has to carry more, and right now, he knows it's one of those moments. He must bear the fear and shoulder some of yours. While he wants to share these worries with you, a deep-seated commitment to putting family first holds him back. His protective nature takes precedence, always prioritizing his family.

Javier raises his head back up and quickly turns around to follow the doctor, who is waiting for him.

Once he catches up to her, she tells him the forms are for consent of treatment. The doctor reads the online document, informing Javi about the procedure, the benefits, and the risks it entails.

Dr. Gaddi must have seen the look on Javier's face after she listed the risks and the way he nearly crumbled when she said "or death" because she stopped and turned to him.

"But... everything will be okay, right? He’s in good hands?” Javi asks, his voice cracking as if he's on the verge of tears; even speaking those words makes his throat ache, causing a noticeable strain in his voice.

"Sir, I can't make any promises. Every surgery does come with risks, but my team and I have successfully done this procedure multiple times.”

Javi tries his best to remind himself that everyone in the OR is experienced and has done this procedure before.

"Where do I sign?" he manages to ask, his voice slowly regaining its composure.

While Javi is with Ángel's anesthesiologist, a nurse, and another doctor come in to check on Ángel. He had only managed a short nap, so now, as he rests, you take out your phone and send a text to Jack.

Hey. We're in the Pre-op area. There's a room in the OR now, and I've met his doctors. As soon as the anesthesiologist comes back, they'll take him.

Jack replies instantly as if he's been sitting by, waiting for his phone to ring:

Thank you for letting me know.

He sends a follow-up:

His surgery is only supposed to take an hour, right?

That's what the doctors said. I'm sure he won't be in there for too long.

As Javi, Dr. Gaddi, and a nurse approach, you text Jack:

The anesthesiologist will be here soon. I'll send you any updates I get, and I'm going to send you Javi's contact info just in case.

After adding Javi's phone number and hitting send, your husband and the surgical team arrive.

Dr. Gaddi approaches, “Hi, Mom, everything is ready on our end to take the patient to the OR."

“Okay,” you say, rising to your feet. The staff gathers around the bed and begins to move it. Ángel stirs at the movement, calling for you and Javi before opening his eyes.

Javi quickly rushes to your side, closer to your son, and reassures him, "It's okay."

"Oh, am I going to surgery?" Ángel asks.

"Yes, you are, Angel," the nurse responds as he releases the brakes on the left side.

"Oh, okay, yay," Ángel smiles.

The nurse chuckles at his excitement, "You know, not many kids are excited for surgery."

"I'm excited because chemo ports look more comfortable than the IV. It gets in my way when I do, like, anything," Ángel explains with a huff.

"Well, I've heard from other patients that they prefer the port, so hopefully you will too," says Dr. Gaddi as she stands to the side, waiting to wheel Ángel out of the room.

She turns to you and your husband, saying, "You guys can follow us until that red line, and then you'll be taken to the waiting room."

You start feeling more anxious, and Javier senses it. He begins to rub your lower back, his warm hand moving up and down, offering comfort.

"Okay, ready," says the nurse.

With the curtain open, they go through first, and you and Javi are right next to your son’s bed.

You're so hyper-focused on your son that you don't realize you've made it right before the line that you can't cross.

"Love you, Mommy, love you, Daddy," Ángel says, reaching out for your hand.

You take his little hand in yours, and Javi covers both of your hands with his.

"Te amamos más, mi niño (we love you more)," Javi tells him in a soft voice. Everyone can hear the love pouring out of his words.

Ángel knows this and doesn't try to contradict his dad because he knows it would be in vain. Instead, he simply says, "Nos vemos en un ratito (We’ll see each other in a little bit)."

"Okay, mijo," you say, fighting back tears.

The doors open, and Ángel is wheeled in. You think the tears are coming, but when you hear the light sound of your son's laughter, you're able to compose yourself.

"Would you like to be taken to the waiting room now?" a non-surgical nurse asks.

Thirty minutes pass, and you and Javier are seated in the waiting room, the only occupants at the moment. Purple chairs surround you, and you're on a blue seat cushion against the wall, your attention fixed on the TV opposite. It's a modest 35-inch screen designed to keep you informed about the ongoing surgery. Your son's name is displayed in green, and the message changes from ‘Surgery in progress: Incision and Pocket Creation’ to ‘Surgery in progress: Port Implantation.’

"They're placing the port-disk-chamber thingy inside the incision they made on his chest," Javi says matter-of-factly, pointing at the text.

You turn your head toward him, an amused smile playing on your lips. "'Port-disk-chamber thingy'—is that what the doctor said, Jav?"

He bursts out laughing, placing his right hand over his chest, realizing he was mimicking the tone doctors use when imparting information: authoritative. "Casi me cago del miedo (I almost shitted myself from fear) when the doctor told me step by step what they would do, so I don't remember exactly what he said," he chuckles.

Javier's laugh is contagious, and you can't help but laugh too. Your laughter fuels his, and vice versa. The only thing that interrupts your laughter is when you feel the baby kick.

"Ay, me pateó (oh, he kicked me)," you exclaim happily.

Javi instantly stops laughing too and shifts his hand to rest on your bump. As soon as you feel the weight of his hand on your stomach, your son responds with another kick, right where Javi's palm is placed.

A boyish look crosses your husband's face. He always loves feeling the baby kick, reminiscent of the first time he felt his first son kick.

"¿Hola, mijo, ya te despertaste? (Hi, my boy, have you woken up yet?)" he hums softly.

In response, the baby kicks again.

"He loves your voice so much. I swear he only kicks so you could talk to him. A mi no me quiere, nomas le gusta que le cantes y le leas (He doesn’t love me, he just likes it when you sing and read to him),” you huff out in fake annoyance.

"That's not true. The second-born is always the momma's boy. So the baby loves you the most," Javi says.

"And the youngest loves daddy the most, so no," you refute.

"He won't be the youngest for long," he grins suggestively.

You gasp, “ya me embarazaste, sinverguenza! (You already impregnated me!)"

"But if it was scientifically possible..."

"Shut up," you playfully scold him.

With Javi's hand still over your stomach, your son kicks again, this time much lighter.

"He's upset you told me to shut up," his gaze shifts from looking at you to your stomach as if he could see the baby, and he lowers his voice, “¿verdad, mijo? Dile a tu mami que no sea mala conmigo (right, mijo? Tell your mom to stop being mean to me).”

He looks back up at you, "te acuerdas cuando Ángel hizo eso por primera vez? (Do you remember when Ángel did that for the first time?).”

“Jesus Christ, he scared me, and he made you cry,” you laugh, a smile on your face remembering.

"Oh shit! I forgot to update Jack," you realize and scramble to get your phone. As you start typing to let him know what's going on in the OR, you tell Javi, "By the way, I gave him your phone number."

Javier lets out an unenthusiastic and dry, "Yay."

“Mira (look),” he says while you’re still typing. You look up to where Javi is pointing, and the TV changes to Surgery in progress: Catheter Insertion.

You wince, "They're in his vein now."

"The catheter is the tube that delivers the medicine to his body, right?"

"Yeah," you mumble, typing the next update to Jack.

Javi reaches for one of your hands and rubs soothing circles, “Deja de pensar en eso. Él está bien con ellos (stop thinking about it. He’s safe with them).”

He removes his hand and turns his body to the to-go bag. Javi reaches for the zipper and undoes it. He digs in the back, and you see him pull something out. "Do you need a blanket?" he asks, with a large fuzzy blue blanket in his hand and his soft brown eyes looking at you tenderly. Before you can reply, he places it in your lap and goes back to the bag. Javi fights a little and finally tugs a pillow out of the bag, "a pillow?" he asks with the same puppy eyes.

“I- thank you," you accept both items. You put the pillow behind you so you won't rest your back against the hard and cold wall. You take the blue blanket from your lap and extend it to drape it over the both of you.

"¿Tienes hambre? (are you hungry?)" Javi asks adjusting the blanket.

"Sí"

He goes back to the bag and pulls out some snacks: Goldfish, Chips Ahoy, granola bars, fruit snacks, dry plantain chips, and a pack of assorted nuts.

"Sorry, I don't have any actual food," he looks at what he's offered you and feels guilty at the limited options. Javi gets up quickly, "I can go get you real food. Are you craving anything?"

"Hey," you wrap your fingers around his wrist and grip somewhat tightly. You look up at him and push him to sit back down. "No. I don't want you to leave."

"Okay. I'll stay," he says softly, kissing where your hair and forehead meet.

A knock reverberates in the room, and a nurse comes in. "Hi," she says, closing the door to come closer to you. "Everything went well. There were no complications. They're ready to transfer Ángel to the Post-op room if you guys would like to follow me."

Both of you look relieved at the news, and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

"Thank you," you tell her, and Javi can't get any words out. His eyes are watering, and he tries his best to not let them fall.

He starts hurriedly putting away the snacks, just keeping the bag of nuts, while you fold the blanket back up into the neat roll Javi had it in. After the snacks, blanket, and pillow are in the bag again, Javi helps you get up. You send Jack a quick text informing him that everything went well, and you're on your way to see Ángel. Javi puts the bag over his shoulder, and you both follow the nurse to go see your son.

Next morning - Day 1 of Chemo:

Hey, Jack. Ángel is awake and doing well. He asked about having visitors and hoped you would come see him. We explained that it's not possible right now. He understood but wanted to call. Would you like to FaceTime?

That's great. What’s FaceTime?

It's a video call.

Yes. How do I do that?

Instead of texting him back, you initiate a FaceTime call and hand the phone off to Ángel when it starts to ring.

As soon as Jack accepts the call and his face takes over your screen, Ángel's little face lights up. "Mr. Jack!"

Jack's face mirrors Ángel's: a smile so wide, eyes so soft looking at his son.

"I just started chemotherapy," Ángel blurts out just before Jack greets him.

Jack's heart glows watching his son's face. "How are ya feeling?"

"Mmm... I feel okay. Oh! I got the surgery last night, and look at my chemo port." Your son takes one hand off your phone and pulls his hospital gown just enough to show Jack his port. "Look! You can see the bump of the port under my skin. Eww, it looks gross. It's so cool."

Jack laughs, and that makes Ángel move the phone back to his face.

"Does it hurt?" Jack asks.

"Nope. It was a little bit like... sore when I woke up, but it doesn’t hurt now. I had chemo in the morning, and it pinched for a second, but it's wayyy better than the IV."

"It's not a pain to use the restroom, huh?"

"It's easier and faster to go now," his brows pinch in the middle, "I almost peed myself once 'cus I had to wait for the wires to detangle from the bed." Ángel trails off, tilts his head to the side, and squints. "What do you have behind you? Is that a needle?"

Jack turns his head behind to see what his son saw. He had picked up the prescription he needed to be Ángel's donor from the pharmacy the previous night. Jack opened the box out of curiosity and took out a needle to look at, but then he got caught up texting you in the morning and forgot to put the small vial and needle back in the pharmacy bag.

"Umm... yeah?" Jack says uncertainly, not knowing how to explain it to his son. He doesn't want him to know that he's his donor, at least not yet. "That is some medicine I have to take in two days," Jack says, trying to keep it vague.

When the words come out of Jack's mouth, Ángel's eyes show pure concern, "Oh, are you sick?"

"No, buddy," Jack blurts out immediately, "I'm not sick. I'm just takin' them for... to... Just takin' them to stay healthy. They're like vitamins."

"Maybe I should take some so I could be healthy. What's the name of the medicine?"

Jack's heart drops at his son's words. His mind starts spinning, but he takes a deep breath. He'll be healthy soon, he tries to remind himself. "You can't take this one, buddy. It's for adults."

"Oh," he sounds disappointed, but his voice goes back to normal, "Well, that's okay. I can't take vitamins on chemo either way. I think. Vitamins can affect chemo because of cancer cells, but I don't have any so I don't know. I can ask later. How are the horses?"

Donation Day - Day 7 of Chemo:

Jack sat comfortably in a green chair, his right hand extended over a pillow, squeezing a small blue ball as his blood cycled through the machine. Two hours had passed since he settled into the chair. He arrived at the hospital early in the morning with the last dose of his five-day filgrastim prescription, and for the first time, someone other than him administered the injection. Throughout the morning, he had been texting you, checking in on his son, and, though he wouldn't admit it, checking in on you. Of course, he cared about his son and wanted to know every detail of what he was going through, but this had been the only line of communication he had with you for years, and he wanted to take advantage of the opportunity while you were willing to entertain his conversations. From you, he learned that Ángel's last day of chemo had gone smoothly.

Jack's head spun when he heard a knock against the door. His heart thumped wildly in his chest at the thought of seeing you. When the door opened, a wave of disappointment washed over him. It wasn't you who set foot in the room; it was fucking Javier.

Jack instantly tenses and clears his throat as Javier walks over to him.

"Hi."

Javi crosses his hands over his thick biceps, "How's the donation coming along?"

"It's goin' well. They think in 30 minutes we'll have enough for Ángel," Jack fills Javi in.

"H-how are umm... how are you feeling?" Javi gets the words out, although with much effort. He sounds physically pained asking a simple question to Jack.

"You sound very concerned for my well-being," Jack quips sarcastically.

Not really, Javi wants to say. Instead, he tells Jack, "I’m trying really hard to not hate you.”

It doesn't faze Jack one bit. "Same."

"So just don't do anything to piss me off. More like don't do anything else to piss me off even more," Javi lowers his voice more, "She's my wife; she tells me things. Don't you ever dare call her ‘baby’ again. You're lucky she's not that uncomfortable with ‘sugar’, but if she ever shows one ounce of discomfort, you will stop."

"She never minded all those names before," Jack challenges, glaring at Javi."

Javi smirks, wearing a shit-eating grin as he nonchalantly shrugs. "Yeah, she never did lots of things before me."

Jack is furious. All he sees is red, and just as he begins to rise from his chair to get up, the nurse walks in.

"Oh! A visitor," she exclaims.

"Hello," Javi greets the redheaded nurse in blue scrubs with ducks all over them.

Seeing the nurse enter, Jack comes to his senses and sits back down. Subconsciously, he squeezes the ball so tight in his hands that his knuckles turn white.

"Mr. Daniels, are you okay?" the nurse questions with concern. All she sees is her patient gripping the ball so tightly that his nails are about to rupture through the material. She moves to him and checks his arm to see if there are any signs the needle is causing pain.

Jack's glare tears from Javi and shifts to the nurse. "I'm okay, thank you for checkin’ in on me," he tells her and moves his hand to signal for the nurse to release his arm. "Nothin’ hurts," he smiles up at her.

The nurse understands and checks the progress of the donation. While looking at the machine, she decides to make small talk with her patient and his visitor. "Are you Mr. Daniels' brother?" She turns to ask Javi innocently.

"No," Jack's words drip with disgust.

Javi smiles at how fast Jack denies the nurse's initial thought and says "Not related," under his breath, mumbling, "Thank God."

The nurse doesn't seem to pick up on their animosity and comments, "You two look alike, what a coincidence. Best friends then?"

"No, nothing like that. My wife and I know him, and he's giving our son a gift," Javi says 'our' while looking at Jack.

Suddenly, Ángel crosses their minds, and they both feel some shame for their earlier behavior. They know they can't go on still hating each other because it'll eventually turn into a fight. They just don't know how to set aside their differences.

"I'll call the doctor to get her thoughts, but it looks like we have what we need for the donation," the nurse says, taking note of the blood volume. "In a few hours, one lucky little boy will receive the cells, and he’ll be one step closer to being healthy."

After Jack was hooked up to the machine for two and a half hours, the staff deemed the collection enough and sent the blood bag to the lab to confirm that Jack’s procedure had collected enough stem cells. Four hours later, it was confirmed that there were the desired amount of stem cells, and the team took the cells to Ángel’s room. Due to your son being immunocompromised, he isn't allowed to have visitors other than legal guardians. So, you and Javi update Jack on the transplant.

Day 11 post-transplant:

Remember how I told you he started grafting on the tenth day?

Yes! How his body was accepting the stem cells, and the cells were growing and making new cells.

Mhm. Well, if everything keeps going at the speed it’s been going, Ángel gets to go home in four days!!

Oh, wow! It’s just day 11 after the transplant, and the doctors estimated it wouldn't happen until closer to day 25! Can I go see him then? I know I was cleared to go five days ago, but because I wasn’t feeling well, I didn’t go. My fever’s still here, but I’ll continue to monitor myself.

Sure! You need to be cleared of a fever for 24 hours and have absolutely NO symptoms.

You have my word, sugar.

Day 14 post-transplant:

You're packing all of Ángel's belongings to take home. It's been 14 days since your son's transplant, and he's cleared to go home. You don't know who's happier— you, your husband, or your son. But that doesn't really matter; all that matters is that your family is together. Just as you're collecting your son's toys and getting them ready to shove into the white personal belongings bag, someone knocks on the door. Javi stops placing Ángel's books into a box and hurriedly opens the door. He was expecting the doctor to come in with discharge papers, but it was Jack waiting on the other side.

"Oh, right, you said you'd stop by," Javi remembered.

When you saw Jack standing there not quite stepping inside the room with a red gift bag, you gasped. "Sorry, we forgot you were going to stop by." You turned your neck and saw Ángel reading the book Jack had gifted him, One Hundred Fun Facts About Horses.

"Come in," you usher Jack in. "Mijo," you call, and Ángel looks up from the book he's got his nose buried in.

"Mr. Jack!" Ángel's face lights up like a Christmas tree. He pats a spot in his bed as he tells Jack to sit down next to him. "I want to show you something," Ángel puts the book aside and lowers his shirt to show Jack that the port is gone. "They took my port out!"

Jack almost reaches out and touches his son's scar but settles for examining it with his eyes. "Are you sore?"

"Not really. I'm just excited to go to my house. Did my mom tell you I'm leaving the hospital today?"

"Yeah," Jack chuckles, "she mentioned it. And here I brought you this," he lifts the gift bag onto the bed.

Ángel tears it open and begins to pull the items out. The first gift he reaches is a book, Her Right Foot. "Oh, my God!"

You see the title and direct your question to Jack, "He's wanted that book for a while, how did you know?"

"Really?" Jack's smiling ear to ear. "I just went to the bookstore and thought he'd like that one." His heart feels like it could rip right through his chest because he feels like he knows his son. Jack had browsed many children's books and read the synopsis of every last book. The one he had purchased was the one he felt his son would love, the book his son is currently holding, and Jack was right.

The little boy takes out the next item, which is a box. "A Lego set!" Ángel flips the black box to the front, and he sees that this particular set is one of horses. The horse in the center looked similar to Andor, one of Jack's horses his son loved the most. "Is this an Andalusian?" Ángel looks to Jack, his eyes sparkling."

Jack nods his head, "It is, buddy. It's like a mini Andor."

Ángel seems pleased with Jack's answer and moves on to the last gift. It was another box, but this one was a shoebox. The little boy lifted the top off, and he was met with boots—dark brown leather boots with beautiful and intricate stitching all throughout.

“Is that a longhorn?” Ángel points at the center of the boots. He doesn’t wait for an answer before speaking again, “My grandpa has longhorns on his ranch. Do you have them on your ranch, Mr. Daniels?”

"I don’t have any longhorns, but umm... I have the same boots," Jack looks down at the floor like he’s suddenly interested in the simple pattern of the hospital floor. He wasn’t sure what reaction he expected, but when his son's sweet voice reached his ears, Jack looked up.

"You do?" Ángel was beaming, a smile brighter than the sun. He leaps to move sideways so his legs would hang from the bed. He took his left boot and put it on his baby blue non-slip sock-clothed feet and did the same for the right boot. When both boots are on, he pinches the tip to feel where his toes are. Ángel drops to the floor and begins to walk, showing all three of you his new footwear.

"How did you get his shoe size?" You're amazed at how they seem to fit perfectly.

"I asked him," Jack nods his head towards your husband, who is smiling broadly, showing his perfect teeth. Javi squats down to Ángel's level and presses his fingers on his son's boot toe box to feel if they're pinching Ángel's feet. "Perfect fit," Javi smiles up at his son, dimple on display, still on the floor.

Once Javi's hands are removed from Ángel's boots, he runs to Jack, "Thank you so much, Mr. Jack," he says, jumping up and down. Ángel runs back to Javi, who is now standing up straight, "¡Papi, quiero una foto! (Daddy, I want a picture!)" Javi complies and takes out his phone from his back pocket.

You turn to Jack, and your voice falls to a whisper, "We're hosting a dinner in a few nights to celebrate Ángel coming home, and we'd love it if you'd join us."

Jack's head reels at the prospect of seeing you and Ángel in a few days, but beneath that excitement, there is fear, "Is your family going to be there?" he asks.

"Yes, and Javi's too."

"It's your family I'm worried about," he confesses, looking into your eyes.

You take in the way his face pales slightly, his eyes widen, and his eyebrows shoot near his hairline. "No. You're more than worried; you look genuinely scared, but you'll be fine."

"'Course I'll be there, Sugar," he says, looking at his son laughing while Javi takes his pictures. If Ángel was a happy and giddy boy before the transplant, Jack now sees how his innocence is amplified now that he's healthy, and Jack can't wait to see more of his son's childhood joy outside the hospital.

"Hey, can I talk with you alone before you leave?" Jack asks you, hoping you'll agree.

"Um, yeah, we can go outside," you agree, noting his urgent tone.

"Javi, Ángel, I'll be back soon. I'm just going to walk Jack out," you say, moving to the door with Jack on your heels.

"Okay, we'll keep packing, amor," Javi tells you, brushing his hand with yours. You lean into your husband for a while until Ángel and Jack say their goodbyes, promising they'll see each other at the dinner.

You and Jack exit the room, and you take him to a little corner further down the hall.

"What did you want to discuss?" you ask resting your back on the wall with brown and cream diamond wallpaper.

Jack's nervous to tell you what he wants: a father-and-son relationship with Ángel. You two never went into detail on how you would tell Ángel the truth about Jack and he's terrified of asking you for something this big so soon after a big weight of stress has been lifted off you.

"Jack?"

"Sorry," he clears his throat, "I wanted to talk to you about telling Ángel that I'm his dad- biological."

"Oh," you sound surprised. "Yeah. We didn't really discuss that, did we? I haven't thought about it in so long, I'm sorry. Maybe we can get some pointers from Ángels counselor?" You suggest. "Javi and I thought about making an appointment with a child therapist because of this entire hospital stay. We were hoping to get your opinion on that actually."

It's Jack's turn to be surprised. "I think that's wonderful, Sugar. Thank you for including me in the decision."

"Of course. I think it would be great if we could get the counselor's opinion on how to best handle the situation. And we too can figure out how this new dynamic would work. For example, medical decisions moving forward. We'll tell Ángel about you and I have no doubt he'll want to have the relationship you want to have with him. We can talk more about the appointment in a few days. We haven't set an exact date for the dinner but it will probably be this upcoming Sunday."

"I'll clear out my entire schedule," Jack says sincerely

"We'll have food for you that won't send you into a choking fit," you tease.

Jack covers his eyes with his hands, "God, 'M so sorry."

You laugh at his embarrassment, "No, it's okay. I understand the food we serve can take some getting used to." You continue to tell him about the plans for the dinner that is slowly turning into a party and he just stares at you while you keep talking he gets lost in the moment. He thinks about your laugh and the consideration you still have for him and suddenly Jack blurts out, “I love you."

The smile you had vanishes.

“Jack,” you warn dangerously. “We were doing so good, Jack.” You don't want to—can't see him now, so you close your eyes. The words only needed to be said once for them to threaten tears to spill. "How dare you say those words to me now?” You hiss, your tone now angry but more than anything, filled with frustration and pain. You thought you could handle seeing him, so you open your eyes. "What do you expect me to do with that? I won’t leave Javi if that’s what you’re hoping for.

"S-" Jack opens his mouth, but you cut him off immediately. "No, Jack, let me speak."

"Once, those three words would have made me the happiest person in the world, but now? They’re only causing pain,” you pause, exhaling a shaky breath. “You humiliated me, Jack. Time and time again. Even if I didn’t have Javi, I wouldn’t go back to you.” You sound defeated, your voice carrying the pain of past wounds, and it crushes you to keep thinking about the past.

“I did love you, through everything,” Jack whispers, his eyes searching yours. They are watery and dazed.

“I think…” you run your tongue over your lips and then purse them, “I think you loved me in your own way. But that’s not how I wanted to be loved. During our engagement, and more so during our marriage, I never really felt loved by you. Can you blame me for that if I can count with my fingers the amount of 'I love yous' you gave me?” Your words are like shards of glass, cutting through the air with the sharpness of your pain.

“When you did show me your love, I was so happy, Jack. So happy that I thought, hoped, you would give me more love, so I stayed with you. I longed for the morning you woke up and things would be different, better. Because that’s exactly what happened. You woke up after the night of our engagement, and you were a completely different person, and I couldn't comprehend what I did wrong. I was willing to stay with you forever for the odd chance one day you would feel for me how I felt for you.”

“And I stayed because I always hoped you would go back to your old self. Sometimes there were indications that you were going to become the old Jack. Well, I don’t know if I fooled myself, but sometimes I thought you were happy. Like right before I told you I was pregnant, you had this smile on your face….” Your voice trembles with the weight of those memories.

“Other times I genuinely thought you hated me, and then I thought that’s not possible. ‘Why would he ask me to marry him if he couldn’t stand me?’”

“Did you always think that?” He sounds sad, a quiet plea for understanding. But your heart, scarred by the past, struggles to find solace in his remorseful gaze.

“Yeah. When… when we were together, it was rare you would look at me in my face. The majority of times you had me face down. How do you think that made me feel? You made me feel used and disposable.”

“I wanted to be loved by you," you continue, your tone a mix of vulnerability and strength, "and you always made me feel like I was the other woman. Then I decided I should stop trying and let you go.”

“What changed?” Jack's question hangs in the air. Everything you’ve revealed up to this point has felt like glass shards embedded in his heart. He knows you still have a lot left to say, and it will continue to hurt him, but he owes it to you to hear everything you went through.

“I was at a park one day after you didn’t come home," you recall, emotion tinging your words. "I came across this older man, and he showed me pictures of his family. When he talked about his wife…” you pause, emotion catching up with you. “It was beautiful. And I realized that would never be you. You wouldn’t talk about me that way. Since that day, I took off my rose-colored lenses and thought everything through."

"I thought about your behavior but also about mine. I hated who I was because it sounds ridiculous, but I was jealous of someone who wasn't here anymore. And I swear I never wanted to replace her or erase her from your life, I just wanted you to love me too. I loved you so much; I would've settled for half the love you had for Allison, but you couldn't even give me that. I never told you you couldn't love or mourn Allison. She was your wife, I get that... but I was your wife too, and knowing you would never love me like you did her was slowly killing me.”

"I thought about one night, which I don't know if you remember," you confess, the vulnerability in your voice palpable. "But one night on her birthday, you got extremely drunk, and you kept slurring your words. I couldn't understand half of what you were saying, but I heard loud and clear when you yelled at me that you didn’t choose to stop loving her; you were forced to. And you said that you would’ve never looked at me otherwise. That you wish she came back and I disappeared… That we s- switched places,” you confess, exposing the scars engraved into your heart, and the pain of that night that is still etched in your memory—a wound that refused to fully heal. You were surprised that you weren't sobbing, because the night he told you those words, you felt your world had ended.

Jack was appalled, his face reflecting the shock and guilt that surged through him as he listened to your words. The heaviness of the past, the pain inflicted, all rushed back to him as a floodgate of memories suddenly opened, each carrying the weight of its own hurt.

"I always felt I was the third person in our marriage. You made me feel things I hated, and maybe even worse, I became someone I didn't recognize. After that day in the park, I was going to ask you for a divorce because I didn't want to be the person you settled for… then I found out I was pregnant. I wanted to give us one last try, and well, you remember what happened after I told you the news,” you say, the bitterness of the past lingering in your words.

"You kept hurting me, and you're smart, Jack. Did you not think I would leave you?"

Jack exhales, the reminder of his own mistakes heavy on him. "I think I couldn’t let ya go, so a part of me hoped you would leave me if I treated you horribly. Every day I fought with myself to treat you like you deserve, but I wasn’t strong enough to open up to you."

The silence lingers, and Jack takes the opportunity to share a piece of his truth. "The night after I proposed, I had a dream about Allison. She told me I was replacing her, and I dunno, instead of working out through my issues, I took it out on ya.”

“Over a dream? You... you let our relationship go to waste because of a dream,” you say, a mix of disbelief and frustration in your voice. You want to be angry at him because such a trivial thing ruined the chance of happiness, but then you put yourself in his shoes. "Oh, Jack," you add, this time with a tone of understanding and sadness.

“Have you been to therapy?” you ask him, your tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Yeah…” Jack admits with a small, self-deprecating laugh.

“Can I be honest?” you tilt your head, your fingers playing with the collar of your shirt.

He nods.

“I don’t think it helped.”

Jack smiles, a sheepish expression on his face, “If we’re being honest, I went in for two sessions and never saw my shrink again.”

“Well, your therapist probably knew what they were doing,” you playfully scold, but then your voice softens, "Please see a therapist so Ángel can get to know the best version of you. When I knew that Jack, he was amazing, and that's the man I want my son to know."

A sad smile greets Jack's face, "Yes, Sugar."

There's another thing you've always been curious to know but never had the stomach to ask, and this seems to be your window. "Can I ask, did you, um, did you ever sleep with someone else while we were married?"

"God no," the words tumble out of his mouth.

"Well, that's something, I guess," you say, a sense of relief evident in your voice.

"I'm really sorry about everything, sweetheart. I can't believe I ever hurt you. I just miss you so much. I’ve never regretted anything in my life as much as I do not telling you I loved you when we had a chance," Jack confesses, the weight of regret heavy in his words.

"It’s okay, Jack. I’m not your wife anymore, but we had some good times. Sometimes love doesn’t work out how we thought,” you tell Jack, your gaze turning when you hear footsteps that are familiar to you.

And Jack would forever kick himself for driving you away and not accepting your love. The only piece of solace is that Ángel will have a happy and full life, and you finally got the love you deserved and dreamed of.

Javi starts calling your name, and you answer him so he can walk over to where you are. Once Javi comes into view, he tells you that Ángel’s been discharged and that they're ready to go home.

Jack looks at you once more, his gaze lingering, as if trying to capture every detail to hold onto. He sees the love in your eyes for your husband, a love he once had the chance to cherish but let slip away. It hurts, but at the mention of his son, it gives him the slightest glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he has learned from his mistakes, and he'll find a way to be a part of your lives, even if it's not in the way he once dreamed. The love of his life and his son are happy and healthy, and that will have to be enough for him.

"Bye, Jack. I'll let you know what time we're having the dinner," you say, while Javi wraps his arms around you—a protective gesture that Jack once held the privilege of doing, but did so sparingly.

"Take care," Javi tells Jack over his shoulder, his voice firm but not unkind. He then leads you to Ángel's room, leaving Jack standing alone in the corridor, grappling with the ache of what could have been.

You both start heading down the hallway, and Javi pauses halfway. His eyes search yours, concern written all over his features.

"Are you okay?"

"I am now," you lean into him and smile. "Jack and I were talking about when we were married," you begin, and Javi tenses involuntarily.

"Hey, no, you don’t have anything to worry about," you reassure him, cupping his face with both of your hands. "Our talk was more about what went wrong, and the bottom line was that I‘m okay with the fact that he wasn’t the one for me."

Javi takes a deep breath, visibly trying to control the surge of emotions within him. "It’s just- me cae mal ese - (I don’t like that-)” You can't help but chuckle lightly at your husband's choice of words.

"As stupid as it sounds, I wanted to make it work when we were married. I saw it in his eyes, I felt it in his words and actions; he didn’t love me, and I couldn’t stay in a marriage like that. I wanted a life with him... It didn't work out, and it's okay. Everything I dreamed of having, I found it with you. I'm the happiest I've ever been at your side. You’re the love of my life and I love being your wife, don't ever doubt that, okay?" Since the beginning of your relationship, you always repeated your love to Javier, not because he was insecure, but because you knew how it felt to be second place, second best, a consolation prize, and you never wanted Javier to think that you settled for him after Jack.

"Say it again," Javi requests, a genuine smile softening his features as he looks down at you.

"What?"

“That you’re my wife," Jack wants you to repeat the words that make his heart flutter.

“I’m your wife," you say.

Javi, still reveling in the warmth of the words, spins his finger in a playful circle, silently requesting you to say the words again.

“I’m your wife," you repeat, the pride evident in your tone. You take Javi's hand and begin walking to your son’s room.

"Again," Javi insists, stopping you in your tracks.

“I’m your wife.”

“Otra vez," he requests, this time in Spanish.

You comply, “Soy tu esposa," you tell him and drag him further down the hall to your son's room.

When Javi playfully asks you to say it once more, this time it's you who stops. “Por dios, Javi, ¿en cuántos lenguajes quieres que te lo diga? (My God, Javi, how many languages do you want me to say it in?)” you feign annoyance.

He shrugs, answering with a mischievous grin, “En todos (in all of them).”

Amused, you grab him by the collar of his blue button-down shirt and bring him to a level where you can whisper into his ear, “Ay, Jav, apenas y hablas español (Oh, Jav, you barely speak Spanish).” You kiss his cheek and pull back, leaving him slightly offended but oddly proud. He had hoped for a different outcome when he saw you pull him down; the glint in your eyes made him believe you were going to kiss him on the lips. But, to his dismay, you chose to tease him instead.

"Take it back!" he demands as you stand right outside the door.

“Si lo dices en español (if you say it in Spanish),” you tease with a grin. Javier contemplates for a moment, and in the brief silence, Ángel's laughter and Dr. Navarro's voice echo from inside the room.

"Please?" Javi implores, wanting to savor one more of those heart-skipping phrases before joining his son. Unable to resist his pleading eyes any longer and mindful of the precious moments with Ángel, you relent.

“I’m your wife.”

END

Extended Note: The end! Thank you, everyone, for your kindness throughout the series. I truly appreciate every interaction 🥹.

As for my departure, I'm unsure whether I should deactivate my account or just private my writing. There's one post I received only positive comments on, especially from people with SPD who found it relatable. Apparently, there's a shortage of such stories, so I'm conflicted. Hopefully, I'll have a definitive decision next week.

I'm planning to post the Din story next Thursday; it's just one part, a sex pollen with Virgin!Din, titled 'Paleta.' I'm a fan of El Alfa, and I recently discovered that a song in his new album was sampled from the one I used for the Din story. It got me thinking about what I had written, and I wanted to share it with y’all before I bow out.

Thank you for reading 🫶🏽!

Taglist: @kchavez666 @ttupelohoneyy @mishasminion360 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @stileslvr @pedrostories

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