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collabpartners · 1 year ago

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Hazbin Hotel: The Contract of Blood Ep. 6

*Hello, peeps! We're back with another chapter! I'm think we can release the chapters every three days since we're like ten chapters ahead of this one. Yes, we're almost done writing it, but we need to publish it! LOL! This episode is published on March 19, 2024. If you guys like this episode, don't be afraid to vote, reblog, and comment! That would be greatly appreciated! Warning: Vulgar language and gore. Read at your own risk! Enjoy!*

Episode Six: The Kill-Switch

“Let go of me!” Angel cries, being choked to death by Val’s hand. Flashes of Angel getting hurt by Val and Husk trying to help him goes by quick. Husk tries to call out Angel’s name to show that he’s here.

“Angel! I’m right here! Let me in! Please!!” Husk cries in his dream.

“Husk...Husk...HUSK!”

Husk gasps and jerks his body away from the unfamiliar touch to realize it is just Fizz shaking his shoulder gently to wake up. He blinks and realizes that he’s in the back of the limo with Fizz and Ozzie.

“You okay there, buddy?” Ozzie asks with a brow raised.

Husk rubs his tired eyes and sits up. “Yeah, yeah.” He looks out the window to find the green smoke everywhere.

“We’re in the Greed ring now,” Ozzie replies before Husk can ask where they’re at.

“It looks like shit,” Husk responds.

“Don’t let Mammon hear you say that,” Ozzie sasses back.

Fizz gulps and looks at Husk. “Listen. We can’t be seen around here. The last time we’re here, we pissed off Mammon. So, it’s better if we don’t even come with you beyond this point. Mammon can be an asshole and he’s going to want you to sell your body for a quick buck.”

“Don’t let him,” Ozzie replies firmly. “This is the last guy I want anyone to go to for help. But he knows more about the greed chains than most, so, if he’s not such an asshole, maybe he’ll be able to help you. Just don’t mention that we are the ones who sent you to him.”

Husk nods in understanding. “Yeah, yeah, I ain’t gonna say any shit.”

“Thanks,” Fizz replies happily as the three of them notice that they stop in front of the tent.

“Well, we’re here,” Ozzie says. “Remember, don’t let Mammon sell your body.”

“I never let anyone sell my body,” Husk responds before getting out of the limo.

“Good luck,” Fizz replies as Husk exits the vehicle.

Husk nods and faces the tent. He hears the limo drive away, taking deep breaths.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Husk mutters to himself. He hears music inside of the tent, walking into the tent. He sniffs addictive food like popcorn and churros. He sees posters everywhere of two fish-like ladies known as Glitz and Glam, exposing their breasts and crotches. He looks away from the posters and notices the music performed by the two lady fishes, twerking in front of their horny audience. Glitz starts to sing passionately, showing off her curves.

“Get ready for the new era!

A new song, a new trend!

I don’t need love, more like leave you a mess.

Double-trouble, ya, that’s right.”

Glam starts to rap in her song, jumping over her partner.

“See your taxes

Greed is where the cash is.

Let’s see how horny you can be for us.”

With that said, Glitz and Glam notice Husk not paying attention to them and looking for Mammon. They exchange mischievous glances at each other before jumping off stage, surrounding Husk like predatory vultures. They start to sing together, touching his body to get him aroused.

“Whatcha doing here, new face?

Haven’t seen you around here before.”

Glitz caresses Husk’s face, turning him to face her.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom, what do you say?”

Husk pushes the two women away from him gently, not willing to take part in the song they’re singing. He tries to search for this Mammon guy in the tent, but he can’t find him in the crowd. However, the girls look at him confused as if they had never been denied before.

Husk hears the girls singing, but the lyrics are faded in his mind. He looks up to find a bigger and rounder demon, two bottom set of arms holding the popcorn while the top set of his arms were eating the pieces. He has a green and black jester outfit, his green eyes staring at the performance in front of him, sitting on the web.

He looks at the poster that has the exact image of the demon above him with his name ‘Mammon’ on top of the image. He shifts his gaze back up at the demon above him known as Mammon. Husk extends his wings and flies up towards Mammon, standing on the web next to him.

“Mammon!”

Mammon looks around to find a voice calling him.

“Down here!” Husk calls.

Mammon glances down at the cat sinner demon. “Oh, hey, if you need something from me, you’re going to have to wait until after the show. Popcorn?” Mammon offers popcorn to Husk, who pushes it away.

Mammon shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

Husk groans and watches the show, cringing at the performance until it’s over. The audience cheers, thirsty for the bodies of Glitz and Glam.

Husk watches Mammon getting up, jumping down from his web. “Hey, wait!”

Husk jumps down with Mammon, who’s striding towards the sales.

“Let’s sell more of these plushies,” Mammon replies to the vendor while holding up the plushies of Glitz and Glam. He notices the body pillows. “What the fuck is this?! You didn’t get them in their sexy poses!”

“Mammon! I need to talk to you!” Husk calls.

“Look, if you’re looking for autographs, go up to Glitz and Glam,” Mammon responds to Husk, noticing the body pillows when the fish twins are naked. “Holy shit, now that’s more like it!”

Husk grumbles, “I’m not looking for autographs--”

“These then?” Mammon says, shoving the pillows of the naked celebrities in Husk’s arms.

Husk’s face contorts in disgust and throws them away. “I ain’t looking to buy your fucking products! I’m looking for you!”

Mammon glances at Husk and shrugs. “Well, my performing days are over--”

“I ain’t gonna ask about your celebrity days! I need your help with this!” Husk responds, gripping his throat to reveal the green chain wrapped around it.

Mammon widens his eyes in shock. “Holy shit, that’s the greed chain.”

“Yes,” Husk responds, the chain disappearing when he lets go. “I need your help on how to get out of them. Do you know how to get out of them?”

Mammon appears to be confused. “Who’s your overlord?”

“Alastor, the Radio Demon.”

“Th-The Radio Demon. Oh shit!” Mammon gasps in shock while turning around to think of something.

“How do I get out of these chains?” Husk questions.

“Why should I be helping you?” Mammon responds with sass in his tone. “You don’t look like you have a lot of money.”

“I was told that you can help me. Now answer the fucking question. How do I get out of these chains?”

Mammon turns to look at Husk, a smirk cornering his face when an idea pops into his brain. “How about this, uh, who the fuck are you--?”

“Husk.”

“How about this, Husk? I got a fighting ring in the town called Ransom. It’s paid good money and, if I think you’re good enough, you might get an answer out of me about your chains. Just win five rounds and you should be set, mate. What d’ya say?” Mammon offers with a smirk, his hand stretched out to shake Husk’s.

Husk is about to decline, but he realizes that there’s no other way of getting Mammon to answer him. He sighs and extends his hand to shake on it. “Deal.”

Mammon smiles mischievously. “Perfect.”

~.~

Husk doesn’t have his overall straps. He’s not wearing his usual pants, except for boxer shorts. His ears are lowered at his reflection in the mirror in the lockerroom before the boxing match.

“Well, shit,” Husk responds to his reflection. He hears the crowd cheering with Mammon’s booming voice announcing the round.

Husk turns to the opening curtain that shined lime green. A sigh escapes his lips, rolling his shoulders to hear them pop. He pulls out of the photograph of Angel’s selfie with Husk smiling and Angel holding Fat Nuggets. He smiles at the photograph selfie before tucking it away into the pocket of his discarded pants on the bench.

“Here we go,” Husk replies to himself while facing the curtain and walking through it.

Once Husk steps into the limelight, he listens to the crowd booing at him. He doesn’t know why, but he didn’t care to know. He hops over the wooden fence surrounding the ring, noticing the first opponent to be a buff shark demon, bigger than Husk has ever face.

Husk gulps, getting ready to use his cards while Mammon announces the fight.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the Ransom Fighting Ring! Place your bets on who’s going to be the winner!” Mammon replies while watching the crowd placing bets by putting their money in the plate of the first brawler. However, a familiar black robotic arm reach over to place a hundred on Husk’s plate, which Mammon glances around to find who did it.

Husk arches a brow at someone making a bet and looks up to find Fizz in a black hood and hiding himself in the crowd with Ozzie hiding in the shadows. He blinks in shock that they showed up, but he shifts his focus on his first opponent.

“The rules are simple,” Mammon replies, continuing with the announcements. “No weapons and no magic. Your opponent has to be close to dead in order for you to win the round.”

Husk gasps in shock, putting his cards away and taking out his claws.

“And have some fun! Let the fight begin!”

Husk takes a deep breath, facing his first opponent.

The brawler charges at Husk, who uses his wings to dodge the attack. Husk focuses on the attackers fists, dodging them until an unexpected fist slams against his cheek. Husk flies back into the wall with a groan in pain. Fizz, from the audience, gasps in fear of Husk’s life.

Husk feels his tail grabbed by the shark brawler and is thrown across the ring into the wall. He doesn’t have time to dodge another attack as another fist pounds on his other cheek. Husk feels punches coming from different directions by the same brawler, bruising his face and his torso.

Fizz and Ozzie watch in horror and glance at Mammon, who’s smiling evilly at Husk’s loss.

Husk is gripped around the throat and thrown to the other side of the ring. Breathing heavily, Husk’s vision is nothing but a blur as he looks to see the brawler charging at him. Having enough of getting beaten down, he dodges the attack quickly. He swipes his claws at the brawler, drawing a lot of blood out of him.

“My turn, motherfucker,” Husk growls as he flies towards the brawler, scratching him up like a feral cat.

Mammon losts his smirk when he sees Husk rising and taking down the brawler.

The brawler falls back with blood on his body, close to being dead. The crowd stops their cheers and looks at Husk, with a black eye, bruised cheeks, and bruised chest. The crowd cheers, including Fizz clapping excitedly at Husk’s sudden victory.

“The matches ain’t over yet! He’s got four more rounds to go! Let’s see if he’s truly the winner!” Mammon scoffs at Husk’s first victory.

Ozzie growls lowly from the audience. “That motherfucker.”

Fizz nods in agreement. Ozzie gives Fizz another hundred dollars to make another bet on Husk. But this time, Fizz and Ozzie aren’t the only ones placing bets for Husk. Some of the audience members placed the bets on Husk as the second brawler comes out. The second brawler is a woman demon imp, with long black hair and horns grown to the sides.

“FIGHT!” Mammon calls.

She leaps at Husk to throw a few punches onto his shoulders. Husk only staggers back until another punch lands on his already bruised cheek. But Husk manages to recover quickly, using his claws to swipe at the woman imp, nearly killing her with his slashes.

Once she’s down for the count, the audience starts to cheer more for Husk. Husk looks up at Mammon with a shit-eating grin. Mammon grows a bit more angrier and summons the next fighter in the ring. More audience members place bets for Husk to win, including Fizz and Ozzie.

The next opponent is a cheetah transman demon, spikes on his back and claws like Husk’s. Husk narrows his eyes and gives a cat-like snarl at the other cat.

The cheetah demon pounces on Husk, but Husk flies away from the cheetah’s jump. The cheetah swipes his claws towards Husk, leaving claw marks on his chest. Husk realizes that he’s bleeding, but he shields himself with his red wings from the cheetah’s claw attack. Husk yelps from the scratches on his wings, causing him to punch the cheetah right in the face. He flaps his wings off the ground slightly to kick the cheetah in the chest.

He lets his adrenaline kick in as he flies towards the cheetah, putting him in the chokehold. The cheetah attempts to scratch him, but Husk shields himself with his wings from the scratches, He wraps his legs around the cheetah’s arms until the cheetah blacks out from being choked.

Husk throws the cheetah’s limp body aside and stands up, breathing heavily. The audience starts to cheer for him, leaving Mammon growing more angrier that he’s winning three rounds so far. Husk’s legs are wobbly from the fight, but he pushes his body to stand up more firmly.

Fizz and Ozzie notice this with concern looks on their faces.

Mammon summons the next fighter, who’s a lanky imp with white hair and horns.

Husk prepares himself for the fight, despite being bruised and having blood dripping down his stomach. The next fighter charges at Husk, but his fists doesn’t hurt when the punches were thrown at Husk. Husk smirks at the easy victory, using his claws to scratch up the imp. The imp is down quickly without another fight. Husk watches his last fighter being carried away as he looks up to see more people making bets on him.

However, he notices that Fizz and Ozzie stop placing bets for Husk, trying to motion him to quit while he’s ahead. Husk is confused on why they were trying to get him a quit until Mammon announces the final fighter.

“For the last fighter! We have---CHAZWICK THURMAN!!!”

Husk glances to see a buff shark with brown hair slicked back, assuming that his name is Chazwick. However he doesn’t have teeth or jaw as if it’s ripped off of him.

“Yeah! Make some noise!” Chazwick shouts, showing off his muscles to his fans cheering.

Mammon smirks at Husk as he announces, “Chazwick here wins all five rounds before! Let’s see if Husk can beat him!”

Fizz and Ozzie’s faces contort in concern for Husk as they look on fearfully.

Chazwick turns to see the bruised and bleeding Husk and laughs. “This kitty has beaten the last four opponents?! This is gonna be easy.”

He charges at Husk, who dodges out of the way. Chaz’s fists swings at Husk, but he dodges them swiftly. When Husk swipes his claws at his opponent, Chaz manages to snatch Husk’s wrist and slams him onto the ground.

Husk groans in pain and sees Chaz’s hands wrapped around his throat to choke him.

“It’s time to die, little kitty!” Chaz responds, appearing more manic than before.

Husk tries swiping his claws to defend himself, but his vision is starting to black out.

Fizz shakes his head when he watches Husk being choked by Chaz and is about to get up from his seat to help Husk, but Ozzie stops him when he sees Mammon noticing them. He shields them from Mammon’s sight. Fizz continues to watch Husk being choked in horror.

As Husk is starting to black out, flashes of Angel being hurt by Val and coming to the hotel in bruises and scratches fills his mind. Husk loses himself in his mind, remembering Angel’s voice and smile as they talk at the bar of the hotel. Angel’s stupid sex jokes while Husk grows used to it. Husk starts to tear up from seeing the memories of Angel holding Fat Nuggets and showing him to Husk as if he’s introducing his pet pig to him. It’s sudden that his vision starts to turn green.

From Chaz’s point of view, he notices Husk’s eyes turning green. Before Chaz can question what’s going on with Husk, the tentacles shot out from the ground and stab through his body. Chaz is slammed onto the ground, earning silence from the audience, including Mammon, Ozzie, and Fizz. They all stare in horror as the tentacles drag Chaz through the ring and slam him against the wall. Chaz starts crying in fear.

“Help me! HELP ME!!!!” Chaz cries before the tentacle stabs through his open jaw, going into his brain. Another tentacle zooms into Chaz’s throat, going through his body and breaking his bones. Chaz’s eyes turn green as he screams in pain before more tentacles dive into his body to tear more into his organs until they rip him in half.

Husk stands up to look over at the split Chaz and looks up at the audience, who stares at him in horror. Fizz and Ozzie appears more in shock at Husk’s unknown abilities than horrified.

“Holy fucking shit,” Ozzie mutters under his breath.

Husk glares at Mammon, green eyes lit in his eyes. He zooms towards Mammon, using his tentacles to hold his arms up and grip his throat.

“I’ve won five rounds! Now give me the fucking answer!” Husk snarls at Mammon.

Mammon gulps in fear, trembling. “U-Uh, mate, listen, if you let go, I’ll give you the answer. Just let me go.”

Husk breathes heavily in anger. The audience scream in terror and hurry out of the tent so that they wouldn’t get killed by Husk’s tentacles.

“Husk,” Fizz calls out.

Husk glances to the side to see Fizz and Ozzie trying to inch their way to calm Husk.

“Did you fuckers set him up to kill me?!” Mammon screams at them angrily.

“Shut the fuck up, Mammon! You’re going to make him more mad!” Ozzie argues back with Mammon. “Just give him what he wants!”

“I don’t fucking know how he can out of the chains of the Radio Demon!” Mammon barks at Ozzie.

“Are you serious?!” Fizz shouts.

“Yes, I’m serious! Now get your killer’s tentacles off of me!” Mammon barks an order. The tentacle squeezes his throat. “I’m serious, mate! You wouldn’t want to see me when I’m mad!”

Husk snarls like a cat.

Mammon growls. “You ask for it!” The green smoke appears all around him, breaking the fighting ring. Mammon legs grow underneath him like a spider, throwing Husk down like a rag doll. Husk crashes onto the ground before getting up to summon more tentacles to attack.

However, Ozzie rises up in his full demon form in between Husk and Mammon while Fizz jumps in front of Husk to get Husk to snap out of it.

“Husk, calm down,” Fizz responds, putting his hands up.

Ozzie glares into Mammon’s eyes. “You better back the fuck up, Mammon!”

Husk breathes heavily in anger, ready to attack anyone near him.

Fizz notices this while putting his hands up. “Hey, I’m not going to attack you. Please, calm down. Think of Angel.”

Husk softens his gaze, his tentacles relaxing. “A-Angel?”

“Yeah,” Fizz replies, smiling in relief to find something to calm him down. “Angel is at the other ring right now, waiting for you to break your chains. That’s why you’re here right now. He’s the reason you’re here right now, right?”

“A-Angel,” Husk mutters, his green eyes fading. The tentacles disappear around him as he falls forward from all the bruises and the blood loss.

“Oh shit!” Fizz yelps and catches Husk into his robotic arms. “You’re okay, pal. You’re okay.”

“W-What the fuck just happened?” Husk stutters, noticing Chaz’s dead body. “What the hell did I just do--?”

“Shh, just relax, man. You won the fight fair and square. Now, Mammon owes us an explanation,” Fizz says while glaring up at Mammon.

Ozzie gives Mammon the same glare as Fizz. Both Ozzie and Mammon go back to their original form.

Mammon sighs tiredly. “Fine. C’mon before we summon anymore tentacles that kills people.”

As Mammon is walking out of the ring, Ozzie notices Husk passing out in Fizz’s arms. Fizz tries to help him up, but Ozzie approaches them.

“Here, I got him, Froggie,” Ozzie whispers to Fizz, picking Husk up in his arms to carry him out of the ring with his short boyfriend following behind him.

~.~

Husk groans in pain. He hears two voices arguing over something, but he can't understand them until they become clearer.

“Ugh, fuck,” Husk moans.

“You're okay. You're okay,” Fizz’s voice echoes in the chambers of his mind.

Husk groans more and flutters his eyes open, realizing that he’s staring at the green ceiling. He tries to move his sight around to find Fizz tending to his wounds.

“What the fuck?” Husk questions and sits up, noticing bandages around his torso. “What the fuck happened to me?”

Fizz clenches his teeth. “Hey, don’t move around too much. You’re going to strain yourself.”

“D-Did I win?” Husk asks with a soft gaze at the cyborg imp.

Fizz smiles nervously. “Yeah, fair and square. Just relax yourself for a moment. I have to get this scratch mark right here.”

Husk winces when Fizz is cleaning the wound with the washcloth. They hear Ozzie and Mammon arguing at the other room.

“Uh, so,” Fizz begins with a nervous tone. “Nice way of using tentacles at the end. Although it tore someone in half. Remind me to not get on your bad side.”

Husk widens his eyes and glances up at Fizz. “I used those powers again?”

“Uh...have you used them before?” Fizz asks.

Husk grabs his head. “Ah, shit! He’s going to find me and kill me!”

Fizz puts his hands up. “Whoa, hey, calm down.”

“Alastor is going to fuckin’ find me and kill me--”

“He won’t--”

“How would you know? I used his powers. That’s what I get for being on a leash,” Husk says with a gruff.

Fizz softens his gaze and notices Ozzie and Mammon storming into the room where they are.

“You can’t possibly have lost the book!” Ozzie responds angrily, his blue flame turns red angrily.

“I didn’t think there’s going to be souls wanting to get out of the greed chains. A lot of them didn’t want to get out,” Mammon responds with his hands on his hips. He ponders for a moment. “Maybe I gave it away.”

“You gave away that of all things!”

“What?!” Mammon shouts. “It’s not like I thought I was going to use it in advance! Why are you gettin’ onto me about helping your lower-class friend?! Didn’t you just admit that you love your little sex imp in public--?!”

“You don’t fucking talk about Fizz like that, you bastard!” Ozzie growls, his head turning more red.

“Oz--” Fizz utters his boyfriend’s name.

“No, he doesn’t have any right to talk about you like that,” Ozzie responds to Fizz and then turns his glare to Mammon. “Husk beat your games fair and square--”

“He used fuckin’ magic--!”

“It’s not magic! It’s a part of him!” Ozzie argues with Mammon.

“I gave the fucking book away to Belphegor probably!” Mammon blurts out.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“I ain’t pullin’ your leg, mate!” Mammon growls. “Maybe Belphegor has it! I don’t fucking know!”

“Will you bitches quit yellin’?! It’s hurting my head!” Husk snarls, holding his headache.

“Well, if you haven’t killed my best fighter, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” Mammon barks at Husk. “Besides, you’re supposed to beat them up until they’re ‘close’ to being dead. Not kill them like some kind of maniac!”

“Says the maniac using Froggie’s body as a sex toy!” Ozzie growls at Mammon.

The green smoke appears around Mammon as his legs grow under him. Ozzie grows bigger, his head glowing red.

“Oh, you want to fucking go, mate?!” Mammon snarls at Ozzie.

“Bring it, bitch!” Ozzie yells.

Mammon charges at Ozzie, tackling him against the wall. Ozzie wrestles him onto the floor, attempting to put him in a chokehold, but Mammon uses one of his legs to bring Ozzie over his fat body.

Fizz and Husk watch the fight unfold while Husk appears more irritated and Fizz appears more concern about Ozzie.

Husk groans. “WILL YOU TWO FUCKERS QUIT FIGHTING?!”

Ozzie and Mammon stop their fighting, noticing Husk’s eyes turning green slightly before it fades away.

“Whoa, fuck, don’t summon those tentacles again,” Mammon responds, backing away from Ozzie.

“Yeah, let’s not kill anyone else tonight,” Ozzie adds.

Husk blinks and rubs his head. “Ugh, what the fuck is wrong with me? I can’t think straight.”

“That’s because you’re not straight,” Fizz quips back innocently.

“I don’t mean it like that,” Husk responds, blushing. He groans and looks up at Mammon. “You gave the book away to Belphegor, right?”

“Yep, the queen of the Sloth ring,” Mammon answers with a grin.

“Let’s go there,” Husk responds.

Fizz clenches his teeth. “Yeah, about the Sloth ring, just a heads up. Don’t take pills, otherwise, you’d be asleep for a long while. I’ve done that before.”

“I’m not planning to,” Husk replies.

“Thanks for all of your useless help, Mammon,” Ozzie growls. “Enjoy your lousy knock-offs.”

Mammon growls as Ozzie, Fizz, and Husk start to walk away from him. An idea comes into his head as he catches up with them. “You know, since I might not know the way to break the chains from greed, it’s good if I learned by going with you guys.”

“Nuh-uh, there ain’t no way an asshole like you is coming with us--”

“Look, Ozzie, mate, I know Belphegor personally. Her and her husband, Sid. Trust me, we three go way back,” Mammon states. “You ain’t gettin’ in the Sloth Ring unless I tag along.”

Ozzie growls at Mammon.

“Uh...sure, I guess,” Husk says before Ozzie can say no to Mammon.

“YES!” Mammon replies happily. “Maybe next time, I might know more about this whole soul chains situation. As Ozzie promotes in his own ring, it’s all about the exploring, ain’t it?”

“In sex, Mammon. I meant in sex,” Ozzie responds with a deadpan tone.

“C’mon, I promise I won’t hurt your cyborg slut--”

“Call Froggie that again one more time--”

“Oz, it’s okay.”

Ozzie glances down to see Fizz rubbing his arm up and down. He picks Fizz up on his shoulder and glares at Mammon. “As long as you don’t make any derogatory comments against Fizz, you can come with us.”

“Okay. Okay, yeesh. Sooo protective,” Mammon teases Ozzie as he walks with the others to the exit.

“Fuck you,” Ozzie snarls.

~.~

“And here we are!!” Mammon announces, showing off the Sloth Ring of purple surroundings.

The others walk through the ring, noticing everyone sleeping as if they’re dead.

“Are they dead?” Husk questions.

“Some are,” Mammon answers with a shrug. “You can never tell sometimes.”

Fizz shivers and scoots closer to his boyfriend’s head. Ozzie notices this and rubs Fizz’s shoulder in reassurance.

Mammon leads them to the pharmacy of Belphegor.

“Look, I understand that. We all need a day...or days to sleep in. That’s why I recommend these sleeping pills.”

The others enter the pharmacy watching the tall slender figure wearing black clothing and dress, pink eyes staring at her clients. She has a cape with pink stars on the inside of it. Her tail flicks at the sound of other customers coming in. She looks behind her current customer to notice Mammon, Ozzie, Husk, and Fizz. She then glances at her current customer and gave him a couple of sleeping pills.

“Here, these will let you sleep in,” She responds, letting the customer walk away. “Have a fantastic lazy day.” She glances up to see Mammon. “Mammon, what brings you here with--Ozzie? I thought you hate the guy--”

“Oh, don’t worry, I still do,” Mammon replies, causing Ozzie to throw a glare at him. “How’s your hubby, Belphegor--?”

“You can fuck him now. We’re divorced,” Belphegor answers carelessly.

“Yes!” Mammon reacts with a grin before pretending to be in distress about the divorce. “I mean, oh no--”

“It’s fine,” Belphegor replies while waving it off. She notices Husk and leans forward. “Hey, I haven’t seen you around before. Would you like some sleeping pills?”

“Uh--” Husk looks up to see Ozzie and Fizz motioning him to not accept the offer. He smiles nervously. “No thanks. I’m good.”

Belphegor huffs in disappointment. “Whatever you say.”

“Look, we’re here because Mammon here gave you the book that, you know, shows how to break the chains from the greed ring,” Ozzie responds.

“Hmm, he did. But I don’t know where it is. You might want to check with Sid since he’s got all the books since we divorced,” Belphegor replies with a careless shrug.

Mammon claps his hands giddily. “I know where he is. C’mon, I’ll show you!”

Mammon exits the pharmacy a little too excitedly. Ozzie, Fizz, and Husk exchange glances in confusion before shrugging and following Mammon out of the pharmacy.

Mammon shows Ozzie, Fizz, and Husk the library across from the pharmacy.

“So, this is where Sid lives,” Ozzie assumes.

“Yep! Sid loves reading so much. You are going to have to go into the library to spend time with him. It’s about time that he’s divorced with that cunt,” Mammon responds a little too excitedly. He enters the library as the three others following him had their eyes wide in shock at all the books around them. They notice a giant sloth-like demon, sitting with his used purple shirt with tan suit pants.

Mammon hurries up to Sid and taps on the desk to get his attention. “Hey, Siddy, how are ya doing, mate?!”

Sid looks at Mammon, blue eyes flickering. “I...am...doing...good.”

“Oh geez,” Ozzie mutters to himself to hear Sid’s slow speech.

“How...are...you...doing?” Sid asks in a slow manner.

“Doing good. Doing good. Soooo, do you have any plans tonight~?” Mammon asks with a flirty smirk.

“No--”

“Oh, that’s good--”

“--I...don’t,” Sid finishes his sentence, interrupting Ozzie.

Husk sighs deeply. “Look, we’re looking for the book that will help me break out of the chains from the Radio Demon. Can you help us?”

Sid blinks slowly. “I...don’t...know--”

“You don’t know if you can help us--?”

“--where...the...book...is--” Sid continues his sentence, interrupting Husk’s.

“Just let him finish, mate,” Mammon whispers to Husk.

“--let...me...go.......look,” Sid responds as he turns inch by inch to look through the books.

Ozzie and Fizz watch in discomfort while Mammon stares at him lovingly. Sid slowly reaches his fingers and drag across the book so slowly.

After two hours of Sid searching through the book titles, Sid sits back down at a snail’s book.

“Sorry...I...can’t...find...the...book,” Sid replies.

“Did you guys give it away to someone else?” Ozzie asks.

“I...must’ve...given it...away...to...Zelus,” Sid responds.

“Seriously?” Ozzie groans to himself.

“Do you know how to get someone out of the chains of the Radio Demon at least?” Fizz asks Sid.

Sid blinks slowly. “I...can...write...it...down...if...that...helps--”

Husk sighs in relief. “That would be wonderful--”

“--you...with...getting...out...of...the...chains...of...the...Radio...Demon,” Sid finishes his sentence, interrupting Husk again.

Husk starts getting annoyed.

Sid takes out a piece of paper and pen slowly. He starts to write something, but no one could read it since he writes slower than a snail.

Mammon looks at how impatient everyone else in the room is. He smirks and looks at Sid when Sid’s hand drifts in the middle of the page.

“Hey, Siddy, wanna hear a joke?” Mammon asks.

“NO!” Ozzie, Fizz, and Husk shouts at Mammon simultaneously.

“Sure,” Sid answers as he stops writing to hear the joke.

Mammon smirks. “Okay, okay, listen, why is Cinderella so bad at soccer?”

“I...do...not...know. Why...is---”

“Cinderella,” Husk groans to try to speed up the speech.

“---Cinderella...so...bad...at...soccer?” Sid finishes his question.

Mammon snickers. “Cause she keeps running away from the ball! Hahaha!!”

Fizz looks at Mammon with a judging gaze. “That’s one of the corniest jokes I ever heard you say.”

The others look to see Sid’s face slowly stretch into a slow laughter, his nails tapping on the desk ever so slowly.

Ozzie laughs a tiny bit. “Ha Ha, yes, it’s funny. Um, can you--?”

Sid slowly takes out the microphone.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Husk utters.

Sid taps on the microphone slowly and announces throughout the Sloth Ring. “Joke...of...the...day. Why...is...Cinderella--”

“Oh no,” Fizz utters in horror.

“--so...bad--”

Husk clenches his teeth. “Because she keeps running from the ball, we get it, hahaha--”

“--at...soccer?” Sid finishes his question while Husk groans from getting interrupted.

~.~

Sid is finally done writing two hours later after telling one of Mammon’s horrible jokes. He slowly gives the paper to Husk, who snatches it.

“Thanks for nothing,” Husk grumbles and storms out of the library.

Ozzie and Fizz follow Husk while Mammon waves Sid goodbye.

“See you later, Siddy boy,” Mammon bids goodbye happily, blowing flirty kisses at Sid.

Sid is left alone, a blush slowly growing on his face.

Meanwhile, Husk looks at the piece of paper to see another language on it in Danish.

“Du er kneppet,” Husk reads aloud while Fizz and Ozzie look over his shoulders to read it.

“Oh, that’s Danish,” Mammon replies immediately. Then he giggles. “Ha, classic Sid.”

“Why would he write shit in Danish?” Fizz questions.

Mammon shrugs his shoulders. “Sid’s fluent in Danish. Which I know someone from the Envy ring that can translate that.”

“Not Zelus,” Ozzie groans.

“Yes...Zelus,” Mammon responds excitedly. “C’mon, he can translate all the languages of the living world. Even the dead ones.”

Ozzie groans at the thought for a moment. “Fine, but he’s not taking Fizz.”

“Aw, come off of it now. Sid says he gives the book to Zelus if any of you fucks paid attention to what he says instead of interrupting him,” Mammon responds coldly. “Now come on. Let’s go!”

~.~

The four reach the Envy ring, which is full of tall towers competing to reach the sky. They manage to reach to the top building where the tall, lanky teal-colored demon reads through the books. The demon is muttering some things to himself, letting the gang assumed that it’s Zelus, the ruler of the Envy ring.

“Hey, Zelly!” Mammon announces, scaring Zelus from his studies. “How have you been?”

“Hey, man, I’ve been studying up the storm. I need to know this more than that janitor guy downstairs. Tch! He claims to know so much more about the Ancient Chinese culture than me. That fucker,” Zelus responds with a scoff.

Ozzie sighs heavily at Zelus.

“Oh, hey, Ozzie. How are your sales?” Zelus asks, fidgeting his hands.

“Better than yours,” Ozzie replies with sneer.

“Fuck you,” Zelus growls.

Fizz looks up at Ozzie. “Are you guys not best friends?”

“No, he tries to take stuff from me--”

“That’s because you’re always better than me,” Zelus whines like a younger sibling.

“You try to take shit from me. I ain’t lettin’ you!” Ozzie growls.

Zelus notices Husk and shape-shifts into Husk. “Huh, too old.” He shape-shifts back to himself and then looks at Fizz.

Ozzie pulls Fizz behind him. “And you’re not taking my boyfriend.”

Zelus scoffs. “You love that thing?”

“That’s what I’m sayin’--” Mammon realizes Ozzie’s glare at him.

“Do you want me to fucking kill you both?” Ozzie snarls at both Mammon and Zelus.

Husk sighs tiredly and shows the piece of paper. “Look, Sid said that he gave the book to you.”

“What book?” Zelus asks.

“The book that tells us how to get out of the greed chain and out of the hold of the Radio Demon. Do you have it?” Husk questions.

“Uuuh, no. I gave it to Mal,” Zelus points out.

“You gave it to Mal?!” Both Mammon and Ozzie gasps in shock.

“Yeah,” Zelus responds.

“You idiot, you know she burns books when she gets angry!” Ozzie barks.

“That’s why I gave it to her. I didn’t think I was going to need it,” Zelus responds. “You might be lucky to still find it unburnt.”

“Well, can you at least translate this? It might answer to how Husk can get out of the chains of the Radio Demon,” Fizz asks, taking the piece of paper out of Husk’s hands and give it to Zelus. Zelus puts on his glasses and reads the paper.

“It appears to be in Danish,” Zelus observes while reading the words. Then he looks up at the group with a deadpan expression. “You’re fucked.”

“What?” Husk questions.

“Yeah, Du er kneppet translates to you’re fucked,” Zelus responds.

Mammon’s laughter echoes in the room. “Ah, classic Sid!”

Ozzie groans and takes the others out of the office. “Well, thank you for the translating that for us.”

Mammon is laughing on his way out of Zelus’ office.

~.~

The group reaches the Wrath Ring in the hopes that they would find the book not burned at all. The buildings in Wrath ring appears to be in ruin with angry demons burning down buildings and killing each other.

Husk shivers from the sight while Fizz keeps close Ozzie, who puts a protective arm around him. As they enter the main ruined building, they reach the top floor where they see two imps running from the fire.

“¡Ustedes, malditos idiotas, pueden hacer bien su maldito trabajo!(You fucking idiots can’t do your damn job right!)” they hear an angry female voice yelling in Spanish down the hallway. A short petite woman of five foot five, charcoal hair lit on fire from the anger. Her red shirt glimmers under her open black hoodie, sneakers showing colors from her anger. This woman is assumed to be named Mal.

“Uh, you talk to her, mate,” Mammon responds while pushing Husk towards her.

Husk gulps and then speaks to her in Spanish. “Hola, mi nombre es Husk y me preguntaba si tienes el libro que me ayudaría a romper las cadenas de la codicia o liberarme del control del Radio Demon.(Hello, my name is Husk and I was wondering if you have the book that would break me out of these chains or free myself from the control of the Radio Demon).”

“I can speak English too, fuckhead,” Mal grumbles angrily.

Husk twitches his ears from her rudeness, now more gruff with his tone. “Do you have the book that can help me break the chains out of greed or liberate me from the Radio Demon?”

Mal rolls her eyes irritably. “Yeah. C’mon in.”

The four men follow her in her office. She looks around her small library of burnt books.

“Ah, there it is,” Mal states as she slams the book on her desk, covered in charcoal and pages burnt up.

“Shit,” Fizz curses to himself.

“This is why we don’t trust you with books,” Ozzie responds to Mal.

“It’s not like I want to burn the fucking books,” Mal growls, her eyes lit up in anger.

Husk flips through the pages, no pages saved except there’s one word that is not touch by the fire. He squints a bit to see it.

“Selflessness.”

“Selflessness?” Husk responds, letting the word sink in. “I’ve been doing nothing but selfless acts! Why aren’t the chains breaking?!”

“Aren’t you tied to the Radio Demon?” Mal asks Husk.

“Yeah,” Husk answers.

“Then, you’re fucked. Alastor is tied to someone down here. As long as Alastor is tied, you can’t get out of your chains unless he breaks through his own first,” Mal responds back.

Husk softens his gaze. “Shit.”

He tries not to cry, clenching his teeth. Fizz notices this and rubs Husk’s shoulder to comfort him.

“Fuck,” Husk manages to say sadly.

~.~

Meanwhile, back at Imp City, Angel looks out of the window to look for Husk. Blitzo has been pacing back and forth in the front room while Alastor, Lucifer, and Nifty wait in the front room with Moxxie, Millie, and Loona. Loona plays with her phone while Moxxie fiddles with his rifles.

“So, when is Charlie gonna get back here?” Nifty asks out of boredom.

“Probably never, dear,” Alastor responds sarcastically.

“She’ll be back. Demons don’t last long up in Heaven,” Lucifer adds with his hands behind his back.

Angel approaches his group from pacing around the room. “Has anyone heard from Husk?”

“Uh, I’m sure he’s with Fizz and maybe Ozzie,” Blitzo responds.

“Should you give them a call?” Angel asks Blitzo worriedly.

“Hold on, I got Ozzie’s number,” Blitzo replies immediately.

Before Blitzo can dial Ozzie’s number, the bullets crash through the glass. The others duck down immediately.

“What the fuck?!” Blitzo curses. He crouches to the window, careful of the broken glass. He looks down to find a familiar white-haired demon imp with a black fedora hat. “Ah, fuck, Mox, your pops is trying to kill us again.”

“Wait, what?!” Moxxie gasps in shock.

“Your pops?” Lucifer questions.

“Crimson,” Millie growls.

“I know you have this Angel Dust guy along with Lucifer,” Crimson’s voice echoes. “Turn them in. This won’t have to be a fight.”

Angel starts to breathe in anxiety. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Val must’ve sent them after me. Shit! He’s going to kill everyone here.”

“Shh, calm down, kid,” Lucifer shushes Angel. “I’m sure they’re easy to take down.”

“Shit! We’re outnumbered,” Blitzo responds in fear.

“I can take them all out. No problem,” Alastor responds with a manic smile.

“Let me stab him, boss!” Nifty begs.

“Yeah, let’s fucking fight ‘em,” Millie says with determination.

Blitzo breathes heavily. “Alright. But you guys better be ready.”

With that said, Blitzo starts shooting his rifle at the gang. The others sneaks into the elevator while Blitzo distracts them. They go down the elevator and hurry outside. Alastor is the first to step in.

“Hello, you must be Crimson. Pleasure to meet you, good sir. Too bad you’ll die soon,” Alastor replies.

Crimson scoffs at Alastor. “Aim your guns at him.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Alastor snarls while slamming his staff down, black tentacles sprout out of the ground. The I.M.P crew jump behind Alastor to fight alongside with him. Lucifer spreads his wings out, glaring at them with sudden red eyes.

“Don’t fuck with me!” Lucifer growls.

“Dad, this doesn’t have to end this way,” Moxxie responds.

“Don’t even call me Dad,” Crimson growls. “Fire!”

The gang members start firing guns. Millie and Nifty launch into battle as Nifty starts to stab one of the gang members with a knife. Millie notices this and hurries by Nifty.

“Wait, don’t do that,” Millie replies.

Nifty glances up in confusion in her one eye.

Then Millie hands Nifty a large war axe. “Try this instead.”

Nifty takes the short axe and laughs maniacally, slashing the gang members with the weapon given to her.

Loona bites into one of the gang members stomach and shakes him around like a rag doll. Then she charges at the other gang members, breaking their rifles apart with her snout.

Moxxie and Angel sticks together with Angel taking out his tommy guns and firing them. Moxxie fires his rifle, managing to get the gang members with Angel.

Alastor uses his tentacles to stab through the imps before visions flash before his eyes to find that he is being choked by a shark demon until he sees Mammon being held hostage by the tentacles he’s using for battle.

Lucifer notices Alastor is out of it with his vision as he notices someone shooting a bullet at Alastor. “Watch out!”

Lucifer shoulder bumps Alastor, taking the bullet in the shoulder.

Alastor snaps out of it and notices Lucifer on the ground. “Fuck!”

Blitzo catches up with the group. “We’re fucking outnumbered! Run!”

The others start to make a run for it as Millie picks up Nifty. Angel helps Alastor with getting Lucifer up on his feet.

Blitzo watches as Crimson destroys the building that his crew works at. “Oh, shit.”

“Sir, we got to go!” Mox manages to snap Blitzo out of his sadness.

Blitzo is guided away from the chaotic situations, running through the streets of the city.

“We need to head to the Gluttony ring. I know someone from there,” Loona suggests, guiding the group away from the city as Alastor carries injured Lucifer with them.

~.~

“What were you two thinking?” Vaggie scolds both Nora and Bella once they’re outside of Heaven’s gate.

“Cool your jets. They’re just kids,” Cherri reassures Vaggie, carrying a couple boxes of holy bullets and a wooden box of holy grenades.

“That’s no excuse for their behavior,” Vaggie responds firmly.

“It’s not like they can cast us down again,” Nora back-talks Vaggie.

Vaggie groans in frustration. “Alright, that’s it. Bella, don’t spend anymore time with Nora until she behaves better.”

“You’re not my mom,” Nora talks back with a growl.

Vaggie snarls, “Maybe not, but I’m sure your parents will hear all about it.”

“Go ahead, they won’t fucking care,” Nora argues.

Vaggie glances at Bella in Charlie’s arms. “I can’t even believe you went along with this. We thought you can behave better than this!”

Bella lowers her gaze away in shame.

“What were you thinking, Bella?” Vaggie questions. “You can get us banned from Heaven doing shit like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Bella utters tearfully.

“Don’t be hard on the kid,” Cherri responds. “They’re both from Hell, they wouldn’t know any better.”

“Yeah, I was just trying to get Bella to let loose and have fun,” Nora adds.

“Well, that’s something you should’ve done any other day in Hell,” Vaggie growls at Nora.

Charlie stands at the edge of the surface, realizing that the portal isn’t opening. “Guys?”

“What?” Vaggie responds, finally done chewing out the girls until she notices that the portal isn’t opened. “Wait, isn’t your Dad going to open the portal?”

Charlie feels a slight pain on her shoulder as if she’s been shot. But it’s weird. She’s not shot at all. However, she has a feeling that someone else is.

“Dad,” Charlie calls in fear, left at the edge of Heaven’s clouds.

To Be Continued...

#charlie morningstar #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel: the contract of blood #huskerdust #vaggie hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #nifty hazbin hotel #cherri hazbin hotel #helluva boss blitz #loona helluva boss #moxxie helluva boss #hazbin hotel lucifer #fizzaroli helluva boss #helluva boss asmodeus #helluva boss mammon #my ocs #my friends ocs

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mjonthetrack · 11 days ago

Text

vice queen IV

Chapter 50 – When the Spirit Is Willing but the Thighs Said “Ma’am”

Ariel’s body was still humming, somewhere between a religious experience and a soft coma, when she rolled over, trying to recover her ego. The air was thick with heat and eucalyptus, the faint sound of the ocean breeze outside barely making it through the cracked balcony door.

Jey was lounging against the headboard, inked skin glowing in the candlelight, chest bare and still slick with sweat, sipping the water she’d tried to reach before giving up entirely. He glanced down at her with that smug-ass grin that said “yeah, I did that.”

And he had the audacity to look fine while doing it.

She narrowed her eyes.

“Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face,” she mumbled, dragging herself up on one elbow like her bones weren’t jelly.

He leaned over, placing a soft kiss to her temple. “I ain’t grinnin’. I’m just admirin’ my work.”

“You should be arrested.”

“Already got priors, baby.”

She tried to crawl on top of him—messy, wet kisses planting on his lips like she was gonna start something—but her thighs wobbled immediately, giving out with the most disrespectful little betrayal. Her body folded like a lawn chair.

Jey caught her—gently, effortlessly—and had the nerve to chuckle.

“Aww, Red,” he whispered, kissing her cheek, “don’t act like I ain’t just have you folded like an origami crane for two hours.”

“Shut up.”

“You tryna ride me again with legs that said 'ERROR: SYSTEM REBOOT IN PROGRESS?’”

She slapped his chest, half-hearted and weak. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” he said smugly, wrapping an arm around her and tugging her back into his lap. “Look at you, tryna kiss on me like your soul didn’t just exit stage left.”

She sighed, all breath and sass and zero muscle control, head falling to his shoulder. “You got too much dick and too much heart. It’s a dangerous combination.”

He laughed low in his chest, arms tightening around her. “I’m only dangerous for you, baby. The rest of the world? They get the storm. You? You get the shelter.”

She wanted to fight it, keep teasing, maybe even challenge him to a second round just for pride. But the way his fingers stroked down her spine… the way his lips kept finding the crown of her head like he was afraid she’d disappear… yeah, she wasn’t winning this one.

Her voice dropped into a sleepy murmur. “Next time, I’m takin’ you out first.”

He smirked, kissing her again. “Can’t wait. But for now? You just rest. I’ll still be here when you wake up. Always.”

Chapter 51 – Do Not Disturb: Devotion in Progress

Ariel was out. Like mouth slightly open, limbs tangled in sheets, body still faintly twitching out.

She hadn’t even blinked when her phone lit up across the room. The screen buzzed with a group ping—Camille, Marissa, Courtney, all blowing up the thread. “Need Ariel ASAP. Urgent: Cruz file location just went hot. Possible retaliation hit on the east pier.”

Jey stared at it from the bed.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t flinch.

His eyes went right back to the woman curled against his chest, one leg slung over him, her red curls a halo of chaos and silk against his shoulder. She was still soft, warm, and barely clinging to the mortal plane.

And he? He was nowhere near done holding her.

His hand smoothed over her hip, slow and protective, like she was a weapon she didn’t even realize she was.

The phone buzzed again.

“Camille: where tf are y’all?” “Courtney: Red better not be dead.” “Marissa: 👀 Jey if you got her folded and ignoring war room alerts I SWEAR—”

Jey reached over. Silenced the notifications. Turned the phone face down.

He wasn’t answering. Not now. Not when his woman had taken every inch of him like a fucking warrior. Not when she laid here blissed out, spirit-wrecked, draped across his body like a lullaby.

“You gave everything to me tonight,” he murmured against her temple, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along her spine. “So I’m gonna protect your peace while you rest, baby.”

His voice dropped lower, sacred.

“They can wait. The whole world can wait. Just for now… you’re mine.”

He adjusted the blankets around her, brushing a kiss against her forehead, and then her cheek, and then the corner of her lips. Not enough to wake her. Just enough to remind himself—she’s real.

Outside the bedroom, the empire buzzed with tension.

Inside?

Only quiet.

Only comfort.

Only her soft breath, his heartbeat, and the sacred silence between two souls who finally collided after years of aching.

And Jey Fatu?

He held her like she was the last thing in the world that made sense.

Chapter 52 – Post-Coital Amnesia & NBA Highlights

Ariel woke up slow.

The kind of slow that came after getting dragged to the afterlife and gently returned. Her eyes fluttered open, mind foggy, body humming with leftover sensation and the suspicious, concerning ache in her hips.

There was warmth. Muscle. A heartbeat under her ear.

And then she heard it—soft sports commentary, sneakers squeaking on hardwood, the dull buzz of a crowd.

She blinked harder, lifting her head only to find herself stretched over pure man—all warm chest and Samoan ink—and Jey completely unfazed, watching a Heat game like she wasn’t laid out across him like a living, breathing weighted blanket.

She groaned, voice raspy. “Fuuuuck… what happened.”

“Mm,” he hummed, eyes still on the screen, fingers slowly tracing up and down her spine. “You died. Twice. Maybe three times. I lost count after the leg shaking.”

She squinted at him. “How long I been out?”

“Nine hours.”

“Nine?!”

“Nine,” he confirmed, like it was regular. “You snored. Not loud though. Cute.”

Ariel smacked his chest with the strength of a limp kitten. “You didn’t wake me?! Camille’s probably throwing shit at surveillance!”

He turned the volume down a bit, finally glancing at her with that soft smugness only he could wear so annoyingly well. “You needed rest. I handled it.”

“You? Ignored the empire?”

He shrugged one thick shoulder. “You’re part of it. Arguably the best part. So technically I didn’t ignore anything.”

She blinked at him, brain still booting. “My legs feel like cooked noodles.”

“You’re welcome.”

She tried to sit up—failed.

She tried again. This time she just flopped sideways with a groan. “Why the fuck you got nine inches of spiritual reawakening and emotional stability? That’s not fair. You shouldn’t be allowed.”

He smirked and offered her the iced caramel latte he’d ordered while she was knocked the hell out.

“I got you a coffee. Your order. Extra caramel. Light ice. Still cold.”

Ariel stared at it. Then him.

“…I love you.”

Jey grinned. “Yeah, I know.”

Chapter 53 – The Debrief (Battle of the Bedroom Edition)

The iced caramel latte was cold, sweet, and completely necessary. Ariel sucked it down like she’d been parched in the desert for three days, limbs still draped across the expanse of Jey’s chest like her bones had quit the job entirely.

Jey, meanwhile, looked well-rested and way too satisfied, one hand still stroking lazy circles along her hip, the other flipping between game replays on mute.

Ariel smacked her lips, then thudded her forehead against his shoulder with a tired groan.

“…did I at least make it through the rounds with dignity?” she mumbled.

He blinked down at her, smirking like he was this close to being a menace.

“I put up a decent fight, right?”

He tilted his head like he was considering it. “You threw a punch.”

“Just one?”

“Well…” he dragged his palm down her back slowly, “you did try to ride me again with jelly legs.”

“That was bravery.”

“That was comedy,” he said, kissing her forehead. “You went full CPR dummy and collapsed mid-swing.”

Ariel groaned again. “God, let me have this. My pride’s bruised.”

“Nah, your pride’s sleepin’ right next to your hamstrings and that thigh muscle that cramped up.”

“You’re so rude.”

“I’m accurate,” he grinned, moving the coffee straw to her lips so she could sip without lifting a finger. “You said you wanted me when I stopped hiding. That comes with consequences.”

She sipped and deadpan stared at him. “You’re the consequence.”

He nodded proudly. “And the reward.”

Ariel rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. She let herself sink fully against him again, cheek resting on his chest.

“You really didn’t wake me up?”

“Nah,” he said, softer now. “You needed rest. You been carrying too much. Always watching out for everyone else. You ain’t gotta do that when you with me.”

Her throat tightened at the ease of his words, at the simple fact he meant them.

“…thanks for the coffee,” she murmured.

He kissed the crown of her curls again. “Thanks for surviving me.”

A beat passed.

Then Ariel mumbled, “I still feel it… in my soul. Like… my third eye twitched.”

He grinned, cocky and smug and all things infuriatingly fine. “You’re welcome.”

Chapter 54 – Phone Calls & Bathwater

The bathroom smelled like eucalyptus, sandalwood, and that expensive ass lavender oil Ariel only broke out when she really needed to come back to Earth. The lights were low, soft flickering candlelight casting warm shadows across the marble walls.

She was sunk low in the tub, wet curls stuck to her forehead, shoulders barely above water, her limbs floating like noodles. Bruised pride, sore thighs, and a soul still reloading. She was clean, but emotionally? Spiritually? Still in Jey’s chokehold.

She was mid-eyeroll, barely able to lift the loofah, when she heard it—her phone blowing the hell up from the bedroom.

Group chat: “Where tf are y’all.” “Ariel 👀” “I know y’all not laid up while we about to hit a port drop.” “Camille: If you don’t answer I’m driving to your penthouse MYSELF.”

Before she could even groan, she heard him.

“Yo.”

Jey’s voice, low and unbothered, rumbled from the bedroom.

The phone had been answered.

She blinked, trying to sit up straighter. “Jey don’t—”

“I said she’s busy.” His voice dropped an octave. “She ain’t answerin’ no phones right now.”

A pause.

Then a dry, annoyed bark of Camille’s voice on speaker. “Busy?! Tell her to stop playing house—”

He cut her off. “She’s recovering.”

“From what exactly?”

“She deadass needed a wellness check this morning,” he said flatly. “She was out for nine hours. You do the math.”

The line went quiet.

Then Courtney, laughing in the background, “Oh she got folded folded.”

Zilla: “Aye don’t disrespect Red like that. She prolly got spiritual whiplash.”

Camille: “Put her on the phone before I beat y’all both with a clipboard.”

Jey walked into the bathroom, still shirtless, tribal ink glowing under the soft candlelight, and leaned against the doorframe. He had her phone in one hand and her bonnet in the other.

“Baby,” he said with that deep voice, eyes locked on her as he handed her the bonnet, “your girls are on one. But I told them: you needed some... care.”

Ariel sunk a little deeper into the water, groaning again, “Tell them I’ll be at the bunker in an hour. I just need—”

He gently reached for the washcloth, kneeling beside the tub. “You just need to finish your bath, drink some water, and let me lotion you down like the queen you are.”

He lifted the phone again. “Y’all heard her. One hour. Maybe.”

And hung up.

Chapter 55 – The Silk & The Sanctified

The bath had drained slow, the water laced with healing oils, salt, and the very real ghost of last night’s sins. Ariel sat perched on the marble edge, one leg crossed over the other, steam curling off her glowy ass skin like she had just descended from the heavens in slow motion.

Jey was knelt in front of her, big hands rubbing a thick layer of whipped shea butter into her calves. Deliberate. Worshipful. His touch was slow, deep, like each pass of his palm had a prayer behind it.

He wasn’t rushing a damn thing.

“Lift,” he murmured.

Ariel raised her leg and he eased her foot into his lap, thumbs gliding over her arch, her ankle, up the side of her calf in a slow, possessive rhythm. Her eyes fluttered at the pressure.

“Mm,” she whispered, “what’s this… some post-resurrection rubdown?”

Jey looked up from her thigh, tribal tattoos flexing across his arms as he worked the lotion in. “Nah. This my ‘you mine now and I take care of what’s mine’ routine.”

Ariel tilted her head, the silk robe slipping slightly off her shoulder, exposing skin still warm and dewy from the bath. “Oh? That what we calling it?”

He smirked as he kissed the inside of her knee. “Damn right.”

She exhaled softly, her eyes never leaving him.

“Turn.”

She obeyed, slow, letting the robe fall off one shoulder as she sat with her back to him on the bed. Jey dipped his fingers into the glass jar of butter again and started on her shoulders—strong, fluid strokes, the scent of amber and patchouli drifting between them.

“This part right here?” he murmured, fingers pressing into the knot beneath her shoulder blade. “Always tight. You don’t let nobody carry nothing for you.”

Ariel’s breath caught in her throat.

He leaned closer, lips grazing the curve of her neck. “But you don’t have to do all that with me. You hear me, Red?”

She nodded once, slow.

“I got you now. You don’t need to be strong every minute. You ain’t gotta do everything yourself.” He gently kissed her neck, trailing his lips to her jaw. “You deserve softness too.”

She melted. Fully.

Wrapped in silk, wrapped in care, wrapped in the kind of touch that made her soul exhale. His hands continued their path—down her arms, over her hips, back up her spine. Not lustful, not teasing. Just... intentional.

By the time he was done, Ariel wasn’t just moisturized.

She was sealed. Protected. Loved. Held.

And Jey?

He sat back, admired the glow he’d brought back into her skin, and smiled like he’d just finished his most sacred ritual.

“You ready to go?” he asked, quiet.

Ariel turned to him with the kind of softness she rarely showed. “Only if you’re coming with me.”

He kissed her hand, stood, and grabbed his black tee from the chair.

“Always.”

Chapter 56 – The Bunker Arrival & The Kingpin Clapback

Ariel stepped into the bunker with the kind of chill glow that had heads turning before she even walked in. The soft cashmere set Jey had picked out for her hugged her curves gently, moving easy with each step. Her curly red fro bounced with life, nails perfectly painted a glossy deep auburn — a detail only Jey and maybe Camille really noticed.

The Dior slides made a soft click-clack on the polished floor as she followed Jey down the hall. She felt like royalty. Felt like herself again, the real self she almost forgot she was allowed to be.

The war room door swung open and immediately the squad was all eyes on them.

Camille raised an eyebrow, smirk playing on her lips like she knew exactly what had gone down but was savoring the moment.

“Look at you,” Camille said, voice smooth like honey and teasing, “walking in here like you just came from some bougie spa retreat instead of the spiritual rodeo we all survived.”

Ariel smiled, flicking her hair over one shoulder. “That’s because I did.”

Zilla chuckled, “Jey really put a crown on you, huh?”

Courtney grinned, “Bout time someone treated you right.”

Jey stepped beside Ariel, arms crossed and that don’t-mess-with-my-woman glare hardening on his face. “If anyone wants to question how she got here, ask me first.”

Camille raised her hands in mock surrender, “Alright, alright, the king has spoken.”

Ariel squeezed Jey’s hand, leaning in close enough only he could hear, “Thanks for sliding me into the right lane.”

He grinned, low and proud, “Only the best for my queen.”

The room relaxed, the mood shifted, and the empire — their empire — felt just a little more unbreakable.

Chapter 57 – “Whatchall Want?” & The Kingpin’s Throne

The war room felt smaller with Ariel settled firmly between Jey’s tatted legs—his hands resting possessively on her hips, gentle but unmistakably keeping her grounded. The low hum of urgency around them was fading against the electric charge between the two.

Ariel’s eyes flicked over the gathered faces—Camille, Zilla, Courtney, Marissa, Lo—all waiting for her like she was the answer to some crisis.

She leaned back just enough to catch Jey’s gaze, lips quirking into that sly smile only he got to see, and then she threw her hands up, voice sharp and dripping with unapologetic sass.

“Whatchall want? Dang, y’all really out here acting like the world’s gonna end if I step away for a minute.” She clicked her tongue and folded her arms, that glow in her eyes fierce. “I ain’t here to kill myself no more. Y’all better get used to it—’cause on his watch, I’m protected. I’m pliant where I wanna be, but I’m done burning out. This empire ain’t run without me, but it damn sure won’t run through me.”

Jey’s hands tightened on her hips, thumbs tracing slow, soothing circles as his voice cut through the room, steady and commanding.

“Let me make this crystal: I run this shit. Right beside my brother, yeah, but this woman here? She ain’t running ragged anymore. This is her empire too, and I’m damn sure making sure she stays whole.”

A collective nod rippled through the room, the tension shifting from impatience to respect.

Ariel raised an eyebrow at the group, lips glossy and full of fire.

“So, you want that cleanup? You want that intel locked down? You want that rat exposed? Then stop acting like I’m just some luxury y’all can do without.” She smirked, tilting her head as Jey pulled her a little closer. “Because this queen? She’s back. She’s rested. And she’s ready.”

Jey’s grin was slow and satisfied, like he’d won a war without firing a shot.

“Now, let’s get to work.”

Chapter 58 – Moving Different, Owning Their Space

Jey moved through the bunker with a steady calm that hadn’t been there before. No more shadowed corners or the weight of a haunted past dragging him down. He was here. Present. Focused. Like a king fully stepping into his role, not some lost ghost lurking in the ruins.

Ariel slid beside him in the office, not like a visitor, but like the co-commander she was—confident, fierce, and exactlywhere she was supposed to be. The room felt warmer with her there, the cold edges softened by her fire.

The leather chair behind the big mahogany desk was his throne, but now it had her scent on the papers, her style in the subtle mix of incense lingering in the air, the soft hum of her music barely audible from the speakers.

She caught his eye and gave a small, knowing smile—one that said we run this empire together, no more cold, lonely nights.

Jey returned the smile, nodding.

“This isn’t your old office anymore,” he said low, voice steady. “This is ours. We work different now. We lead different.”

Ariel crossed her arms, chin tilted, eyes sharp. “Good. Because I ain’t back to babysit or clean up messes nobody else can handle.”

He chuckled, the sound rich and easy.

“Not anymore. We’re partners in this. You handle what you do best, I handle mine. But make no mistake—this family, this empire? We run it together.”

She stepped closer, resting her hand on his forearm, grounding them both.

“Exactly. Two halves of the same beast. And the whole world better be ready.”

Chapter 59 – Cruz File: The Real Power Duo Moves

The war room was alive with focused energy. Screens flashed with intel but it was Ariel and Jey who commanded the space — no distractions, no ego, just the rhythm of two people who ran this empire.

Camille and Jimmy were off handling surveillance feeds, eyes sharp on the docks and every move in and out of the city. Courtney had logistics and tech dialed in tight, managing communications and security systems like clockwork, while Zilla stood ready, enforcing every decision with an iron will.

But it was Ariel and Jey in the center — her sharp mind slicing through layers of deception and sabotage as she worked the internal affairs side, cleaning up the Cruz file leaks with surgical precision.

Ariel tapped commands on her tablet, pulling hidden threads in the family intel, her gaze intense. “The rat’s slipping through shadows, moving info out in micro-drops — no direct transmissions, just ghosts in the system.”

Jey nodded, voice calm but loaded with authority. “I’ll move the muscle on the streets, tighten our grip where it counts. No loose ends.”

She looked up, locking eyes with him, her smile fierce and confident. “Good. I handle the unseen mess. You handle the visible threats. We move as one.”

They were a seamless force, Ariel weaving through the shadows and bureaucracy while Jey ruled the streets with silent menace. The plan came together flawlessly — the leak was isolated, cut off from the family’s secrets, and the rat exposed before they even realized the noose was tightening.

Back at the bunker, as the team confirmed the rat’s capture, Jey’s eyes met Ariel’s. No words were needed — they had moved the empire forward. Together.

Chapter 60 – Interrogation Room Heat

Ariel swiped her card at the sleek key panel, the door sliding open with a soft hiss. Jey stood close behind her, tall and steady, the weight of the Fatu empire heavy in the air.

“I usually roll up after the hits, clean up the mess, make sure our dirt disappears,” she said, voice low but teasing. “But I’ll bite. Plus, I wanna see how you work a room... and a Glock. It always did something to me.”

The rat inside the interrogation room stiffened as their silhouettes came into view. His eyes darted nervously, landing first on Jey—the co-head of the Fatu family—and then flicking to Ariel, a stranger in this ruthless game.

“Who’re you?” he spat, voice trembling.

Ariel sighed, bored but deadly calm, slipping on sleek black latex gloves with a satisfying pop.

“Since my man’s got this handled,” she nodded toward Jey’s Glock, “I wasn’t planning to talk. Especially because the way he handles steel... well, it does things to me. But I’ll amuse you since you’re already on your way out.”

Jey moved behind her, fingers deftly gathering her curls into a voluminous pineapple poof atop her head, a quiet moment of softness amid the storm.

Ariel’s eyes scanned the man’s file again.

“You wouldn’t know me because I come after the blood’s spilled—after the bodies are just bodies.”

She leaned forward, tightening the restraints on the chair with a precise click.

The man groaned softly, breath hitching.

“You smell like an earth goddess,” he murmured, eyes glazed.

Ariel raised a sharp brow, voice laced with venom.

“You do know I got a scalpel in my hand, right? And your king,” she glanced at Jey, who shifted just enough to make the loaded piece visible, “is standing right here with a loaded piece.”

The room grew colder, the silence thick as the rat’s bravado melted away.

Chapter 61 – “He’s Ready for You, Baby.”

Ariel adjusted the last strap on the man’s wrist and stepped back, eyes scanning him with that calm, clinical detachment only someone who’s handled a hundred bodies could carry. She turned to Jey, lifting her chin, eyes softening the second they met his.

She smiled, slow and warm, creole twang thick like honey, curling around every word as she kissed him deliberately—soft lips pressed to his with heat and promise.

“He’s ready for you, baby.”

Jey's gaze didn’t leave hers as he holstered his piece, then rolled his shoulders out like a man about to clock in. Her approval was a drug he didn’t know he was addicted to until now. That kiss? That subtle grin? Yeah, that was all he needed.

Ariel slid a chair against the wall, sitting down like she was settling in for a show, one leg crossed over the other. She rested her elbow on the armrest, cheek on her fist, and watched her man move like he owned the air in the room.

The rat squirmed, licking dry lips.

“W-Wait, I can talk, I’ll tell you—"

Jey held up one hand, and the room went dead silent.

“You had time to talk. You had time when you started leaking names and moving weight behind our backs,” he said, voice low but sharp enough to cut steel. “You had time when your disloyal ass let my family take the hits for your coward moves.”

He stepped in closer, his height and stillness making the man flinch.

“But you didn’t talk then. So now? Now you listen.”

From the sidelines, Ariel chuckled under her breath, pulling out a small notebook and scribbling something.

“Ten bucks says he cries in the next three minutes,” she mumbled, not even looking up.

Jey smirked, then rolled his shoulders again. “Let’s get started.”

Chapter 62 – Heavy Is the Crown (And the Glock)

Jey circled the rat like a lion sizing up a weak limb. No rush. Just tension. Thick. Slow. Hot like Miami air in July with no breeze in sight.

The man in the chair was breathing heavy now, sweat slipping down the side of his temple as Jey’s boots echoed across the concrete floor. Every step said, I don’t miss. I don’t bluff. I don’t forget.

Ariel smirked from the side, fingers toying lazily with her glove’s edge as she leaned back in her chair like she had nowhere else in the world to be but here—watching the most dangerous man she knew peel the truth outta this traitor like layers off an onion.

“You ever watch someone die slow?” Jey asked, voice low, calm, almost conversational. “Not quick. Not clean. I’m talkin’ slow like molasses. That sticky death. Gutted from the inside out 'cause they broke the code.”

The rat stammered, voice cracking. “P-Please, I didn’t—I didn’t know it was gonna go that far—”

“You did know,” Jey cut in, smooth as sin. “You knew when you tucked that burner phone under your seat. You knew when you fed Cruz’s people intel on our cargo schedules. You knew when my brother’s crew almost caught a bullet 'cause of your sloppy coward shit.”

He pressed a hand down on the table, leaning just enough to make the man go still.

“And still... you showed your face in my house.”

Ariel chuckled low, looking over her shoulder like she was bored, but her eyes? Bright. Amused. Wild.

“He’s monologuing now,” she whispered like it was a stage play, sipping a bottle of water. “He don’t do that unless he’s serious-serious.”

Jey ignored her but the corner of his mouth twitched up, just a little. That was all the affection he gave when he was on business time.

He pulled the Glock from his holster with practiced ease, setting it on the table in front of the man. He didn’t point it. Didn’t even raise his voice. Just let it sit there like death incarnate.

“You can talk, or you can bleed. You will do one of them tonight.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

The rat blinked rapidly, words trapped behind locked teeth.

Ariel leaned in just a little, propping her chin on her palm as she smiled slow and deadly.

“I hope he doesn’t talk,” she whispered. “You look so sexy when you get messy.”

Jey cracked his neck and stared the man down.

“Your move.”

Chapter 63 – The Clean-Up’s Gotta Be Worth It

The silence stretched long enough to snap.

Jey didn’t blink. Didn’t twitch. Just tilted his head, watching the rat stammer and sweat like he had all the time in the world. Which he didn’t.

Click.

Jey moved so fast the man barely had time to yelp. One swift crack to the table with the Glock’s butt and the steel rang out loud, echoing. The rat jumped. Jey didn’t flinch.

“Tick-tock,” Jey murmured, voice low like a simmering growl. “That was me being patient.”

The rat’s lip trembled. “I—I don’t—"

Smack. The chair jolted as Jey gripped the side and slammed it back into place, hard.

“Don’t insult me with lies and shaky breath,” he snapped, looming over him now. “You think this empire stays standing on mercy? You think we built this on second chances?”

Ariel made a soft sound of annoyance behind him and stood up, sauntering a few steps closer, latex gloves flexing, curls bouncing in her pineapple poof like she was walking a runway at a crime scene.

She pouted as she leaned her hip against the metal table, resting her hand on her hip dramatically.

“Do make my clean-up process worth it,” she sighed. “I hate the boring ones. Can’t lie to the press, can’t do a proper disposal ceremony, and it always messes up my nail appointments when it’s too basic.”

Jey glanced over at her with that slow, dangerous grin.

“See? You heard the lady. If she gotta bleach blood off these floors, the least you can do is give her a story to make it worth the mop.”

The rat's eyes darted between them, face pale now, realizing this wasn’t some show of intimidation. This was fun for them.

“I’ll tell you,” he gasped. “Cruz said he’d—he’d protect me. Said y’all were slipping. That Jimmy and Camille were stretched thin.”

Jey’s eyes darkened, and Ariel let out a low whistle. “He tried the divide and conquer method? Yawn. Old as hell.”

“And I—I gave him the ship manifests and—”

Boom. Jey pistol-whipped him so clean and fast the man’s head snapped to the side. Blood bloomed from his lip like a crushed plum.

“That was for talking about my brother,” Jey said, stepping back casually like he hadn’t just rearranged a jaw.

Ariel smiled sweetly, tapping her cheek with a gloved finger.

“Mmm. That’s the mess I like. Go ahead, king. I’m takin’ notes.”

Chapter 64 – Love Letters Written in Chemical Burns

The room was quiet again—except for the blood drip and the soft pop of Ariel peeling her gloves off with a lazy snap. Jey stood at the table, jaw clenched, Glock still warm in his hand. The rat was slumped forward, a mess of fear and busted pride.

Ariel strolled up behind him, calm as ever, hips swaying, like this was just a Tuesday morning meeting.

She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, slow and gentle, lips soft against his tattooed skin.

“Mmm,” she hummed, voice smooth and low. “I think you’ve been too forgiving, my love.”

Jey raised a brow but didn’t look back. He felt her smirk before she even spoke again.

“I’ve been cooking up something new in the lab,” she whispered, sliding a vial out of her coat pocket. The thick glass held a translucent, off-white fluid that shimmered just slightly in the light.

“It eats through bone,” she said sweetly, like she was talking about a new body scrub. “I was saving it for a big mess to clean… but I could let you try some.”

Jey finally turned to her, and the look on his face?

Worship.

"You made this?" he asked, voice low, a hint of awe behind the usual gravel.

Ariel shrugged modestly, turning the vial in her fingers.

“Well, me and Auntie Tanya were playing around with base formulas when I went home. It’s organic. Smells like vanilla and death.”

Jey blinked slowly, something wicked curling at the corner of his mouth.

“I really love you,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Ariel grinned, eyes sparkling. “I know.”

The rat whimpered, watching them like he was trapped in a horror movie directed by lovers with matching rings and murder on the menu.

Ariel stepped toward him, holding the vial between two fingers. “Now, I could inject this into your knee, just to test it. Won’t kill you. Just… you’ll never walk right again. Or talk, maybe, depending how much I use.”

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his cheek. “But that depends on how much fun I feel like having.”

Jey watched, arms crossed, letting her take the lead now.

The empire didn’t run on fear—it ran on devotion.

And hers was just laced in acid.

Chapter 65 – Toys for Her Favorite Tyrant

The room was still—thick with blood, tension, and just the right amount of twisted intimacy.

Ariel held up the little glass vial, the liquid swirling like moonlight and menace. She looked at it, then back at him.

Then she bit her lip.

That slow, knowing smile spread across her face, and Jey’s stomach flipped. Dangerously.

She stepped closer, their bodies toe-to-toe now, and tilted her head up, her curls brushing his jaw as she whispered, her accent smooth and sultry like hot syrup on a summer night:

“You try it, baby…”

She pressed the vial into his hand gently, like a gift. A holy relic.

Her voice dropped just enough to send chills dancing down his spine.

“If you like it,” she purred, “…I can make more toys for you to play with.”

Jey looked down at the vial in his palm—something handcrafted by her, kissed by her energy, born in the same hands that touched him soft and fed him breakfast and then turned around and dissolved human remains with zero hesitation.

He felt her watching him, eyes bright, expectant. Proud.

His fingers curled around the vial and that dark grin crawled onto his face, slow and lethal.

“Oh yeah,” he said, voice like gravel and gasoline. “I could get used to this.”

Ariel giggled, the sound not even a little innocent.

“You better,” she said, turning to grab the steel tray of tools beside her. “That was the mild one.”

The rat in the chair was damn near pissing himself now, eyes wide like they were the devil’s favorite children—and honestly? That wasn’t far off.

Jey leaned in close, vial in hand.

“Lucky you,” he murmured to the traitor. “You get to be the first one.”

Chapter 66 – First Taste of Chaos

The rat squirmed in the chair like he could twist his way out of the inevitable. But the straps held tight. The metal creaked under his weight as he fought them, panic already cracking his voice.

“No, no, wait—I told you what you wanted—”

“Relax,” Ariel said calmly, checking her gloves again, like this was a spa appointment.

She stood beside Jey now, her eyes watching his hand as he uncapped the vial she’d gifted him. That scent hit first—faint vanilla with something bitter, something ancient. Whatever was in it didn’t just sit in the air… it owned the air.

Ariel leaned in beside his shoulder, her lips grazing his ear as she whispered, “Just a drop, baby.”

Jey let the liquid roll onto the tip of a fine scalpel, the shimmer catching in the room’s sterile light.

The rat thrashed harder.

“This is insane—y’all are insane!”

Jey didn’t even blink.

He stepped forward, crouching to eye level, and pressed the edge of the blade to the man’s thigh—nothing fatal, not yet.

Ariel watched, arms crossed over her chest, chin tilted. She was studying his technique like it was art. Like he was a student showing off for his favorite professor.

The compound touched flesh and sizzled low, like a match struck underwater. Steam curled up, and within seconds, the man screamed—a ragged, high-pitched thing that echoed off the walls. The skin beneath the drop turned grey, then dipped, melting like candle wax over bone.

“Oh,” Ariel murmured, her smile wide. “She’s faster than I thought.”

Jey stood, his body humming with calm purpose, eyes locked on the man writhing in agony.

“You should’ve shut the hell up,” he said, tone even. “You earned this.”

Another drop.

Another scream.

This time Jey didn’t crouch. He stood tall, holding the scalpel like a conductor with his baton. A symphony of pain was playing, and his woman was the one who wrote the score.

Ariel walked up beside him again, shoulder brushing his as they both watched the man’s cries go hoarse.

“Think you like it, huh?” she asked, voice all sweet tea and smoke.

Jey looked at her, the blood-red glow of the room reflected in his eyes.

“I fucking love it,” he said, and kissed her—fast, rough, grateful. She smiled against his mouth.

Chapter 67 – Aftercare, Fatu-Style

Back in the bunker’s main hallway, Jey was washing his hands, still grinning like a man reborn. Ariel stood at the counter behind him, already sealing up her kit.

“You got that look,” she teased, tying her curls into a messy bun. “The one that says you wanna buy me a ring and a chemistry lab.”

Jey turned around, drying his hands with a soft white towel, eyes dragging over her like she was sacred.

“You want it?” he asked seriously. “The lab. The ring. Both.”

Ariel blinked once. Then slowly smirked.

“Well damn, king. All that from one vial?”

He stepped up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“No,” he muttered. “From watching you run your world. From that soft look in your eye when you talk about melting bodies and keeping me safe.”

Ariel leaned into him, humming. “You sentimental now, huh?”

“For you?” he said, pressing a kiss behind her ear. “Always.”

She turned, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You think I’m dangerous?” she whispered.

Jey smirked, eyes dark. “You think that turns me off?”

A pause.

Then they both laughed.

Ariel kissed his jaw and whispered, “Good. I got a few more compounds in the works. You might need ‘em.”

Chapter 68 – Love in the Lab

The lab was hidden behind a reinforced steel door in the lower wing of the bunker. The kind of door with a biometric scanner and a keypad that didn’t blink unless it read blood. Ariel pressed her palm to the screen and entered her code. The door hissed open like it had secrets to protect.

Jey followed behind her, silent, gaze scanning everything—the rows of vials, the low hum of sealed equipment, the matte black counters lined with beakers, burners, and notes in her looping script. The whole room was sterile but soulful. It smelled like sage, eucalyptus, and faintly like the oils she used after bath time.

She didn't say anything for a beat, just walked in like she belonged there—which she did.

He realized then… no one else had ever been in here. Not even Camille. Not even Courtney. Not Jimmy. This was her temple.

She turned to him, tugging her lab coat on over her fitted tank top and sweats like it was second nature. Her red curls were piled high again, wild and unbothered.

“I don’t really bring people in here,” she said casually, glancing at him as she picked up a glowing purple vial from the rack beside her.

“Figured that,” Jey murmured, leaning against the table, arms crossed, watching her like he was at church.

She held up the vial, turning it slowly so the light caught the color. It shimmered, like royal amethyst laced with starlight.

“I was studying how the adrenal glands pump so much adrenaline when people lie,” she started, voice smooth but focused. “It’s fight or flight, right? Even the most loyal get that biological response—panic, protect yourself, especially when you’re caught.”

Jey nodded once, eyes locked on her, every word she spoke pulling him in.

“So,” she continued, “I traced the pattern back to the neurological network. Found a little backdoor through the hypothalamus that lets me… reroute the fear.”

He raised a brow, impressed.

Ariel smirked and tapped the vial. “This? It smells like grape Jolly Ranchers. Sweet. Familiar. Makes ‘em calm. No fight, no flight. Their brain doesn’t know they’re in danger, so they tell you everything.”

Jey blinked, a low whistle escaping.

“You made truth serum with a scent profile?”

Ariel shrugged. “Psychological warfare and aromatherapy. You know how I do.”

He chuckled low, walking closer, brushing her hip with his hand as he passed her for a better look.

“And this?” he asked, nodding to the massive clear beaker in the corner, sealed and still.

Ariel grinned, pride gleaming in her eyes.

“That?” she said, walking over and patting the table beside it. “That can get blood out of anything. Molecular level. Gone. Not even a forensic chemist with a triple scanner and three MIT degrees could find a trace.”

Jey looked at her. Really looked at her.

His queenpin wasn’t just out here running the clean-up department. She was revolutionizing what it meant to leave no trace.

She was the storm and the safe house.

“I ever tell you how much I love your mind?” he asked, voice low, gravel rough.

Ariel turned, biting her lip as her brow arched.

“Only every time I make something that should technically get us locked up forever.”

He stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“Good. ‘Cause I mean it every time.”

She didn’t blush. Didn’t need to. Just smirked like the wicked witch of the underworld and whispered, “Wait ‘til you see what I’m working on next.”

Chapter 69 – Secrets, Spilled & Sealed

The door to Ariel’s lab slid open with that same soft hiss.

Only this time, it wasn’t just her and Jey.

Footsteps followed behind them—Zilla’s boots first, then Courtney’s heels clicking against the floor. Marissa, Nova on her hip, glanced in cautiously while Camille stood posted at the frame, arms folded, lips tight.

The crew had seen a lot in the past few years. Burned bodies. Blackmail empires. Corporate takedowns and government entanglements. But this?

This room was different.

Zilla blinked, taking in the massive set up of burners, compounds, wall-to-wall notes, coded security measures, and enough chemical supplies to put an Ivy League research lab out of business.

He squinted at the clear vat marked DO NOT TOUCH UNLESS YOU’RE OK WITH DISAPPEARING.

Then he looked at her.

“So you just got a whole chemical warfare unit down here?” he asked, lips curled in disbelief. “Since when was domestic terrorism your thing, Red?”

Ariel leaned against one of her lab counters with a dramatic sigh, sipping on a drink she definitely made herself.

“I like making things disappear,” she said plainly, like it was common sense. “But when I gotta clean up after nine other people’s chaos on a weekly basis—and an empire’s worth of dirty laundry—I had to get creative.”

Courtney raised a brow, “Sis, this ain’t ‘creative.’ This is federal charges and a Netflix documentary waiting to happen.”

Ariel just smirked, arms folding over her chest.

“I mean, would it be a good documentary at least?”

Camille finally stepped forward, eyes scanning the setup, her voice calm but laced with curiosity. “So that truth serum grape-scented thing you used on that rat upstairs…?”

“Limited edition,” Ariel said proudly, tapping the vial still sitting on the workbench. “Custom brewed. Makes their brain think they’re ten years old in a dentist office. No fear, no lies. Just truth and trauma.”

Jey hadn’t said a word. He just stood in the corner like a smug security statue, arms crossed, watching his woman thrive.

Marissa finally laughed softly, shaking her head. “You really had all this going on and said nothing?”

Ariel raised a brow, her tone teasing. “Says the woman who killed a senator and still had dinner on the table by 7:00 PM.”

“Touché.”

Zilla still looked half-offended. “So, like... do you got anything else down here we should know about? Maybe a time machine? A nuke? A button to delete all evidence of our existence?”

Ariel looked over her shoulder, smiling faintly. “Working on the last one.”

Courtney muttered under her breath, “See... that’s why I don’t drink anything you hand me.”

Camille chuckled, low and knowing. “Don’t act like y’all didn’t just see her man walk out that interrogation room with a hard-on for controlled substances and confession tapes.”

Ariel turned to Jey and gave him a slow once-over. “He earned it.”

Jey just smirked.

“I always do.”

#crime au #romance #x black oc #mature fic #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x black oc

2 notes · View notes

atmilliways · 2 years ago

Text

Wrong On The Money (45)

part 45 of ?? | 681 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

Eddie spends the next few days walking on air.

I ❤️ Uncle Wayne.

45.

Eddie spends the next few days walking on air.

Sure, they haven’t exactly defined their relationship yet. But he woke up cuddling Steve Harrington, and ever since then they kiss each other silly whenever they’re alone together. There’s even some backing each other into walls or pushing up against doors. And whenever Eddie slips into Steve’s room, he’s always greeted warmly, if sleepily.

Steve likes to be the little spoon. Eddie likes to nuzzle into the finer strands of his thick, glorious hair at the base of his neck and press reverent kisses until one of them falls asleep. It works.

A huge part of Eddie is still shocked that Steve is interested in him at all, after all the shit he’s pulled and some of his dumbass friends’ crap. But he’s starting to get it—to get Steve, and the way he thinks about himself as perpetually making up for his past douchebag tendencies. Which. . . . Yeah. There had been a time or two, or seven (or thirty), where Tommy H. had shoved him into a locker or a trash can or a wall, or any of the other popular kids had made a scathing (if vapid) comment about Eddie or his little sheep, and Steve had just laughed. It hadn’t felt great.

But after Vecna and the Upside Down and nearly being eaten alive by demonic hive mind bats, all that paled in comparison. Eddie keeps telling him that, keeps reassuring him that he’s a good guy, really, because if there’s one thing he can’t stand it’s the injustice of someone undervaluing themselves and letting the world grind them down. (That’s what’s killing the kids, after all.) And if Steve reassures him right back at every turn, well. . . . That’s a surprising bonus that he’s learning to hear right alongside him.

Wayne stops him midway through grabbing his van keys to go pick up groceries. “What’s up with you, Ed?”

“Nothing,” Eddie fibs. “I’m just having a good day. You don’t want me to have a good day?”

Wayne raises an eyebrow. “Cut that sass. I ain’t saying you’re in a suspiciously good mood, but I am curious to know what’s made my favorite kid so happy lately.”

Favorite kid, ha. Only kid, in point of fact, and usually Eddie might remind him of that and get called a smartass. He wonders if his uncle has started thinking of Steve as part of the family already.

. . . Oh that stirs up feelings he’s not sure he’s ready for—afraid to be too much for Steve when what they have is so new and fragile. They haven’t even seen each other naked yet, this is not the time to start doodling Mesrrs. Steve & Eddie Harrington-Munson with little black ink hearts around the words in his diary.

As if Wayne can read his mind, the next question is, “You patch things up with Steve?”

Eddie can feel himself blushing, can feel the definitely stupid smile pushing its way onto his face. This is why he tries to put on a front of mean and scary as often as possible, but that has never, not once, worked at home.

“I . . . might have,” he hedges. He doesn’t want to jinx it by saying anything. If it’s spoken into reality then it becomes solid, and solid things can break. Which will probably happen eventually, but he’d like to put that off as long as possible, thanks. At least long enough to get his mouth on more of Steve—

Wait, he shouldn’t daydream in front of Wayne.

Eddie tunes back in to find his uncle giving him an unimpressed stare, a faint uptick at the corner of Wayne’s non-smile that is definitely at his expense. “Well, good. ‘Bout time you boys got your heads outta your asses.”

It’s not until he pulls into the grocery store parking lot that Eddie realizes Wayne might have meant more than just talking—the fucker is perceptive when he wants to be. He just hopes Wayne doesn’t say anything to Steve.

But he wouldn’t, right? No. No way. Where would they be without family loyalty?

#steddie blackmail fic #steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #wayne munson #good uncle wayne munson #stranger things fic #my fanfic

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specialagentlokitty · 2 years ago

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Mr Evershed x student!reader - the reason behind it all

Can we please have a part 3 of Mr Evershed x Student!reader - the reason behind it all, where R is placed in Kinship care with Mr. Evershed and Bella? Kinship care is where someone the kid knows but isn't related takes them in for while, reunification is thr goal of foster care unless parental rights are terminated assuming R's parents lost parental rights. Sources foster care YouTube Be the Village - @witchreporter 💜

Part four:

A/N: so I did some google research for this to find o it more about kinship care in the uk :)

You were in care for a few months while everything was going on with your parents, and after a while, it was deemed that your parents weren’t fit to care for you at all, and they lost all parental rights over you.

So it was now a battle for your social worker to find somewhere more permanent for you, and the only places they could all find were well outside Ackley bridge.

“Put me there in just gonna runaway.” You mused.

“We may have no other choice (Y/N).” The woman sighed.

“Like I said, put me there amma runaway.”

She sighed and looked at you, watching as you played on the Xbox in the staff room.

It was after school, and while you foster parents were here as well, they wanted to include Mr Evershed because as your current headteacher he had a better connection with you.

You set your controller down and gave Bella a little pat on the head making her wag her tail.

“We can keep you for a little while (Y/N), but we can’t look after you in the long run I’m afraid, we’re only a temporary solution.”

“Yes Robert, I know that.” You sassed.

“Hey, be nice.”

You glared a little at you headteacher.

“I’m not leaving Ackley.”

“There’s nowhere else we can place you, no family and no close friends we can put you with I’m sorry.”

“Well I’m not going, I’ll live on the streets if I have to I don’t care.” You snapped.

With that, you got up and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind you as you left the school, aimlessly wondering.

You didn’t want to leave Ackley.

You didn’t want to have to start everything all over again, you didn’t.

So if it meant you had to find somewhere to hide, somewhere to stay, avoid school, keep running around, you would.

You went back to the foster home and stuffed as much of your stuff into a bag as possible and tossed it on you back and you ran out the house again.

You went to a shop to grab some food, then you walked around, and you found a church with someone standing outside.

“You run this place?” You called.

“Yes, can I help you with something?”

“I heard some churches offer sanctuary, is that true?”

“We sometimes do yes, do you want to come in?”

You looked around and debated your options, no doubt they’d be out there looking for you right now.

So you nodded your head and went inside, and you sat on down one of the many benches, and the man sat next to you.

“I’m Kevin, what’s your name?”

“(Y/N).”

“So, what do you need sanctuary from (Y/N)?”

“Just need somewhere to hang out for a while.”

Kevin nodded his head and he looked at you.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“The person I would talk about it to is trynna ship me outta Ackley so no thanks.”

You moved away from him and laid down on the bench, muting your phone as it kept ringing.

“Do you really think running will help?”

“Just till I think of something I guess yeah. You’re nosy for a priest you know.”

He chuckled a little bit.

“I’m just concerned is all, I’m closed to the public, but you can stay here, I’ll be here for a few more hours at least.”

You nodded and he left you to lay there, sometimes coming to check up on you, bring you a cup of tea and offer again if you wanted to chat.

You looked at all the missed calls and texts on your phone, and you sat up when you heard the priest coming over.

“I assume you would be the missing teenager all over the news?”

“Ain’t missing, I know where I’m at.”

“But the people caring for you don’t.”

“Did you tell em?”

“I did.”

You huffed a little and laid down again.

“Well I ain’t leaving.”

“You’ll have to at some point (Y/N).”

He sat down on the bench in front of you and looked back at you.

“We all face difficulties, it’s up to us how we handle these. You walk the paths we do for a reason, and running away won’t change this path that you’re on. You must have hope that if this person you mentioned cares about you, they’ll find another way to keep you here.”

“He don’t, it’s just his job innit, his job to make sure I do what am told and all that.”

“Sometimes our jobs make us care a little more than we think. And if he’s looking for you, he cares more than you know.”

“I doubt that, but thanks.”

Getting up, you pulled your bag on your shoulders and dug through your pockets, pulling out a five pound note and you set it on the bench.

“For the tea.”

With that you tossed your hood up and you jogged over to the door, making your way outside.

Walking down the path, you began another jog as you noticed the police flashing lights getting closer and closer.

Running through some bushes, you ran across a field and jumped over a wall, making you way down the roads trying to find somewhere to hide.

You heard a bark and you turned around to knocked over by Bella jumping on you.

“Sorry pup, gotta move.”

You pushed her off and got up again.

Spinning around, you jumped back as you nearly run into the owner of the dog.

“Knew she’d find you first.” He smiled.

“I ain’t going with you so fuck off.”

“Woah, calm down.” Mr Evershed said.

You looked at him, and then went to run the other way to find it blocked off by a few police officers.

“I’m not getting shipped away, you can get fucked if you think you can just send me away.”

“(Y/N), hey, hey.”

Mr Evershed sighed a little.

“We’re not sending you anywhere, you just need to go back to your foster placement so we can talk tomorrow alright?”

“No.”

You clenched your jaw.

“Nah I’ve come to far to be sent away. Never should’ve trusted you you’re just like the rest of em, you don’t care about kids like me.”

“That’s not true.”

“You’re gonna just send me away like they are! Just leave me alone you asshole!”

You barged past him, dropping your bag, and you ran down an alleyway and that’s where they lost you.

You didn’t emerge until a few days later when you were caught stealing food from one of the shops, and you were taken back to the school since your foster parents weren’t available.

“Are you done running?”

You didn’t looked at the headteacher, you just carried on petting the dog in your lap.

“I’ll run however long I got to, been running long enough.”

Mr Evershed sighed.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you (Y/N), you can stop running, okay? You’re not leaving Ackley.”

“I know cause I won’t let them take me..”

You looked up at him and glared.

“I’m tired of adults making all these choices for me, I don’t want them to, am fine doing what I’m doing. I don’t care what anyone else thinks, nobody cares for some.. some kid in the system, am just gonna get lost like the rest of them right?”

You shook your head.

“You’re just like the fucking lot of em, send me away, then I ain’t your problem no more am I?”

Mr Evershed crouched down.

“You weren’t a problem in the first place.”

“Don’t lie…”

“Okay, so maybe you were a bit of a problem, but that doesn’t mean I want to send you away.”

You looked at him and he smiled softly.

“But I’ve seen you make so much progress, and you’ve come a real long way, and you should be really proud of yourself. Because I’m sure proud of you.”

“Is that why you’re letting them take me away…?”

“I’m not, you’re not going anywhere.”

You looked at him confused.

“They’ve given me kinship care (Y/N). You’re staying with me and Bella, after everything that’s happened you didn’t really think I was just going to let all of that go down the drain so you?”

“I’m not going?”

“No, but you need to come back to school, and you have to apologise to everyone for running away and promise me you won’t run away again.”

He held out his hand.

“Do we have a deal?”

“Deal.”

You shook his hand, and you stayed in his office all day.

You apologised to everybody for running away, and that evening you were taken to his house where all your stuff had already been put in a room.

Mr Evershed wanted to give you space, so he left you upstairs for a few hours.

When he went to get you for dinner, he found you fast asleep on the floor, Bella curled up right next to you fast asleep as well and he laughed softly to himself.

Walking over, he grabbed your pillow, and carefully put it under your head, and covered you and Bella up with a blanket.

Bella stretched a little and wagged her tail as he scratched behind her ear.

“You keep (Y/N) safe..” he whispered.

Bella wagged her tail a little more and set her head back down, and Mr Evershed quietly left the room, turning the light out as he did

#ackley bridge #ackley bridge imagine #ackley bridge x reader #ackley bridge x you #mr evershed #mr evershed imagine #mr evershed x you #mr evershed x reader

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lazuli-writes · 2 years ago

Text

Wake

summary: Jun is the only one who can handle seeing Vernon in the hospital.

pairing: Wen Junhui & Vernon Chwe

genre: angst / hopeful

estimated word count: 1000 words

a/n: I was initially gonna leave it with a sad ending but then I was like… nah. Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

“Good morning noni! How was your day today?”

Jun kept the smile on his face despite getting no response. Putting down the bag of lunch for one. It was almost second nature for Jun to simply move past it. It shocked him how he could field staying here with Vernon the most out of the rest of Seventeen.

With some like Seungcheol, too emotionally unstable to the point of rage or worse, culpable breakdowns. Or on the other end of the spectrum like Chan, who could do nothing but stare, emotionally constipated—or in the case of Seungkwan and Mingyu, emotionless—A silent chasm always sitting between both youngest members of their group.

“The menu today is Twix. And yes I know it’s only eight in the morning, but that seems to be the only thing this hospital has to offer that didn’t look too overbearing. Did you want one noni?”

Silence once again.

“Of course I made sure to get you two. You didn’t get the nickname Twix for no reason.”

Jun sighed, the semi-artificial smile on his lips and burdened eyes linger away from his brother into the small bag of goodies he bought for the day. Seven Twix bars, some ramen packs for lunch and some choco pies and pepero for dinner. The typical meal plan Jun had grown accustomed to during every visit to see Vernon.

“Seokmin and Mingyu got into another argument. It was so hilarious. Guess what it was about?”

Jun sat down, opening a Twix bar, munching away after he put the two he got for Vernon with every visit in the once-used flower vase. A vase that was now almost completely full with Twix bars. The elder sighed as he eyed the vase, annoyed at how fast he felt the vase filled up.

“They got mad because someone dropped Seokmin’s toothbrush on the floor and didn’t pick it up. He unloaded on the last person who used the bathroom, which just so happened to be Mingyu.”

Jun paused for a response that never came, only continuing after swallowing the bite of his Twix that he took.

“Well, Mingyu was not having it. He went off. Mind you, this happened the other day, early in the morning, so their fight woke up the others. Cheollie-hyung was not happy. That whole morning was a shit-show to be honest. You’re lucky to have been able to escape. Hyung and Jihoon-ah was ruthless at practice that morning.”

Jun finished his Twix, quickly disposing of his trash before pulling out his phone.

“I know you can’t see what I’m about to show you, but I’m sure you can just hear in his voice how pissed Jihoon-ah was at that practice. And to have Cheol-hyung back him up on everything… was kinda afraid the others were about to mutiny.”

Jun played the video of that day in dance practice he had on his phone, laughing every now again at his favorite parts. And once it reached the point where even Soonyoung was getting snarky, Jihoon was quick with a sassy shutdown before starting the music again. Jun could only laugh, cause while everyone else in the group found the memory annoying, Jun loved how almost normal this seemed.

“Sometimes I wonder how so much sass could be contained in such a tiny body. Ain’t I right Twix?”

No response once again. Jun smiled, nodding his head in agreement. “You right noni, must be an age thing. Us hyungs must be getting better with our sass as we age, aren’t we?”

Silence.

Jun sighed. Routine followed through as he pushed his hair back, leaning back in his chair to take a couple more deep breaths before returning his attention to the boy laying before him.

“You know, hyung loves visiting you noni. But I really miss you”

Jun's smile cracked a bit, as he leaned against the bed where the maknae laid. His eyes began to water as the elder recited the same little monologue he did every visit.

“I miss seeing your eyes shine. I miss hearing your voice cheer and laugh…”

Jun tried each time he gave this speech, to hold back his tears. To stop the stone in his throat from strangling him from within. To halt the rush of sadness that sucked to swallow him whole everyday that passed with no news.

“I-“

Jun cleared the tears away from his eyes before taking one of Vernon’s slightly chilled hands. Positioning it so that Jun held it up in holding his own cheek. Jun leaned into the younger’s hand as it artificially caressed him. Trying in any way possible to transfer the strength and love he had for the younger to the maknae who laid there. Silent. And asleep.

“Please noni. I know I ask so much of you right now. And you might even have your reasons to not want to do this”

Jun wiped the last of his tears away as he re-solidified the steel in his mind, still gently keeping Vernon’s hand on his cheek.

“But I need you to wake up. We need our noni back so badly. I miss you, we all miss you so much sollie. Please wake up.”

And for what felt like the hundredth time, Jun only received silence from his comatose brother.

Jun refused the tears that threatened to spill once again, instead closing his eyes to enjoy the feeling of Vernon’s fingers. And for the slightest second, Jun dwelled in despair at another day enduring this torture alongside his brother.

But those thoughts and designs of pain and anguish vanished when Jun felt a sudden pressure against his face.

Eyes shooting open as Vernon’s finger shook and gripped ever so slightly on their own. Jun held his breath as he sat there, unable to move or speak as the feeling of movement by Vernon took hold of his consciousness.

And with it, optimism flooded Jun’s heart and soul, with a crashing of waves so powerful, Jun released them in the form of new tears. Brighter and happier tears came rolling down the elder’s face in a never ending stream of hope.

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toranoya · 3 months ago

Text

Dez didn’t say anything for a long moment—just held Angel tighter, both arms wrapping around him like a shield, strong and solid. His cheek rested against the top of Angel’s head, his heart beating heavy and slow beneath that broad chest. He could feel the way Angel trembled, could hear the truth in his voice—not the confident purr of Angel Dust, but the fear and heartbreak of Anthony.

Dez closed his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was low, husky with emotion but steady as hell.

“Listen to me, Ange… ya don’t get to decide what I’m worth.”

He pulled back just enough to look Angel in the eyes, one hand rising to cradle his jaw, thumb wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. “You’re scared. I get it. But don’t stand there and tell me you ain’t worth it. You—you with your sass, your spark, the way you light up a room and make people laugh when they’re ready to fall apart—you’re worth everything.”

He leaned in and pressed a long, firm kiss to Angel’s forehead. “I know about Moneyshot. I know what Val’s capable of. But I’m not afraid of him. He doesn’t get to run your life forever, and he sure as bloody hell doesn’t get to threaten mine and expect me to roll over.”

Dez paused, forehead resting against Angel’s, eyes closed. His voice softened again. “I’m not askin’ ya to be reckless. I just want ya to know… if we do this, I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’ll fight for ya. Not because I think you need savin’, but ‘cause you deserve someone who won’t run just because it’s dangerous.”

He exhaled slowly, holding Angel even closer. “You want this? Then we’ll be smart. We’ll be careful. But don’t tell me I’m better off without ya. 'Cause that’d be the biggest lie either of us ever told.”

[@poisonedspider

#rp #non i11 #ocmuse-dez #poisonedspider

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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years ago

Text

Sneak Peek of your next treat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Another Lewis denial?"

"You know it!”

You rolled your eyes. When these two decided to gang up on you, you didn't stand a chance. Rolling off the bed, you scurried into the ensuite to grab the rest of your beauty items to pack. Though you knew where each item was, you took your sweet time, not wanting to hurry back into the bedroom for your friends to continue the current conversation.

The vibration of your phone tucked into your front tie top buzzed against your breast. You knew it wasn’t a good thing to keep your phone against your breast, but it was usually always the most convenient place for you.

MSG Lewis: Wheels up at 8 no if, ands, or buts, I’m not even playing, kitten.

You rolled your eyes then tapped out a reply. Before you sent yours another text from him came in.

MSG Lewis: I’m not afraid to leave your ass behind.

“Ha,” you said to yourself.

Opting for a voice reply, you went off.

“Listen you may be a fucking eight-time championship holder and feeling yourself hard over this newly long awaited and much deserved title but don’t get it twisted. I am the life of this party, have always been the life of this party, and will always be the life of this party. Just sit there looking pretty and expect me when you see me.”

You made sure all your sass and attitude dripped from every single word, then hit send with a smile on your face as you waited for his no doubt equally sass filled response. Sure enough about half a minute later you got his reply, a voice one.

“Put some respect on my name and run me my respect. I am an eight-time title holder, and I don’t take anyone’s shit no matter how beautiful they are. Get your fine ass here on time or else, kitten.”

You heard the words he emphasized and the way his voice oozed of authority and control and your belly clenched. Your head went back to the rumors of his dom kink, and you slumped against the bathroom sink with a sigh. It was just another bit of evidence you had to lock away in the untouchable, unspeakable box of things pretraining to Lewis. The man himself was in this box and definitely classified under untouchable. You listened to the message again and clung to him calling you beautiful and pointing out your fine ass. You sighed again knowing that he would see you taking this long to reply as his victory. The man was competitive in everything.

“Or else what? You know damn well that I’ve got you wrapped around my pinky finger. You ain’t goin nowhere without me and that’s that on that!”

You giggled as you send the voice reply. When you turned there stood Gisella and Nikki both with snarky “I told you so, you’re caught” looks on their faces.

“Oh the foreplay is very telling,” Nikki said.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your things and walking back into the bedroom.

“Ugh, whatever. He says he’ll leave us if we’re not on time. So let’s try not to get left ladies.”

You disappeared across the way into your closet determined to finish up everything you still had to do. Thirty minutes you were both in the SUV that had been sent for you with your bags loaded in the back finally on your way to the airfield.

On the drive you replied to the last emails from your agent and editor ensuring they knew you weren’t going to be too attached to your emails. Their reminders to have the rest of the chapters for your book completed by the time your returned from this trip made you roll your eyes to the back of your head.

They’d been hounding you for these chapters for three months now. Three months of daily “friendly” email remainders, three months of weekly drop ins to check on” your wellbeing, and monthly sit down meetings that stretched for hours for mapping and plans all centered around this second book that apparently everyone was anticipating. Maybe the anticipation was the reason why you were so reluctant to write it. maybe your stroke of luck with the pen had fizzled, maybe you just weren’t into the idea anymore.

Those were the reasons you gave them when they asked what was taking so long. Those were the PC reasons. You couldn’t very well tell them that your well of inspiration for sex, smut and sultry human connections had dried and caved into the center of the Earth. You couldn’t tell them that you were dry in more ways than one. So instead of exposing yourself in that unfavorable way, you tapped out a very professional response.

Consider it done.

#a long time coming duo 1 #a long time coming one shot #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton #sneak peek

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peeterparkr · 5 years ago

Text

between lightning and thunder|harry styles.

summary: he’s your best friend’s boyfriend, you have feelings for him, you know the drill.

“In thunderstorms, you count the seconds in between the lightning and thunder, the more you counted the furthest the lightning had struck. 5 seconds equals 1 mile. In matters of the heart, and considering this situation. The more you counted, the closer you were.”

word count: 7k

pairing: Harry Styles x reader

warnings: alcohol mention, a bit sad, Little Prince, some songs.

PART TWO: thunderstorms and shooting stars PART THREE: stars and fate

So, here’s my first official Harry Styles one shot (kind of two-part one shot), thanks to @peachybloomss and @laurieteddy for helping me out with beta reading. Yes, there will be part two if you guys want it. I’ll see if you like it, please send feedback, reblog, be kind.

The rain pattered against the asphalt, now bright and dense, reflecting the tinkling lantern that barely gave an excuse of light to the street. There you were, in that corner, shading the sidewalk with those sneakers that used to be white. You were getting wet, that was an understatement, you knew you would have a cold the very next day. You clutched your dark blue umbrella as you waited for a miracle.

You saw the sky light up and counted the seconds.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

The lightning struck with such a crash it made you shiver.

It seemed like it was the worst day of your life. It probably wasn't, but that's how it felt. It is difficult to understand why a relationship ends. It’s even more difficult to understand when you’re an outsider. You were not one, though, not really. You wished you were.

Your best friend’s boyfriend, now ex. Probably ex.

Harry.

You saw him, right outside of the building where you were supposed to be in, leaning to give a shoulder to your friend. You would, of course.

But you wondered what would happen if you didn’t. If you instead went to him. Of course the imagination can go as wild as we let it go but this was just not what you needed.

Harry.

It felt weird, and you didn’t know if she’d seen her. He was pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to breathe in. They’d probably had another fight. One of those loud arguments where both of them made absolutely no sense at all. The relationship both of them were fighting for but there was barely any relationship to be saved at all.

Harry.

There are secrets in life we all like to keep. This was one you’d kept for a long while right now.

But you didn't know how longer you could keep it. You were in love with your best friend’s boyfriend. Probably ex now. Who wouldn’t be?

It was the same old story, coming of age kind of story with no happy ending whatsoever and which led to this absolute mess, with every day your feelings growing deeper. It was your fault for becoming so close to him.

You saw him again, cursing at the rain as his hair was soaking, he only cursed between his teeth again as he was debating whether or not to go back into the building, he kicked the puddle forming in front of him and groaned. That’s when he saw you.

With your dark blue umbrella, and coat. Calmly watching him, not moving, not doing anything at all.

You wondered if he knew.

If he’d ever notice how your eyes brightened up when he was in the room. Maybe he had, all those years, with you in the shadows.

When you met him, him sitting down with some friends, they’d introduced you to one of his, and Sierra had insisted on pairing you up with that guy. Teenage years, when one escapes to parties and tries not to come back home drunk for your parents to notice. A Halloween party, you’d dressed up as Wednesday Addams, he’d dressed up as Elton John.

You had noticed him first, his green eyes had crossed with yours. It wasn’t really his zone, it had seemed. Sierra had caught his eyes, though.

You barely remembered anything from that party, it was like any other party from that time. Drunk teenagers, gathering around to smoke and play a bare excuse of beer pong.

It had been raining but it had stopped, that you could remember. You had gone outside, tired from the buzzing music that you could barely recognize, just loud strums and unnecessary words put together. Songs talking about material things and partying. Not feelings.

You remembered walking outside to the wet grass and you avoided some other people making out on the floor, Britney Spears making out with Frankenstein, that was something. Some other kids yelling through their phones as they assured their parents they weren’t drunk when they clearly stung like warm cheap beer.

You didn’t remember why you had walked out. But you did remember seeing him there, too.

“Got bored of the games?” He asked you, he was leaning against the wall.

There it was, the reason you went outside. He had intrigued you, why hadn’t he stayed with his friends? Why was he staring at the night sky? Was he that drunk?

You had crossed a few words with him throughout the party, nothing important or particular. Very… forgettable. You’d played beer pong against him and his friend, the one Sierra had insisted that he liked you.

But nothing too important.

However you’d seen him walk out. It had awakened something in you.

“I’m terrible at beer pong,” you admitted. “Not even risking playing.”

“That’s the fun of beer pong, though,” he commented. “Ge’ing your ass drunk enough.”

You chuckled. “Well why aren’t you playing anymore?”

“I’m too good,” he sassed. “Ain’t nothin’ fun in that,” he pointed out. “So, Wednesday Addams, huh?”

“Yes,” you smirked. “Be afraid, be very afraid.”

“You’re too smiley to be Wednesday, very pretty smile,” he grinned.

“Thanks, Elton,” you grinned. You didn’t know if the warmth in your body was from embarrassment or if it was the effect the alcohol was having on you.

He winked at you. “So, no beer pong for me.”

You rolled your eyes, and laughed a little. “I’m sure that’s not the reason why you’re here outside, your friends are having fun.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I just came here to see the sky—That sounds so pretentious.”

“It does,” you conceded. “But I’ll give it to you, it’s pretty, can’t judge you, I partly came outside for it, too.” Although you hadn’t. It was no secret his eyes had staggered in your mind for the whole night and that the constant smiling had caught your attention.

He had smiled, you still remembered it to this day. “Haven’t had a clear sky in days,” he commented.

You shrugged, “haven’t noticed.”

“You haven’t noticed,” he sounded incredibly offended, “didn’t you miss this?” He pointed at the sky, he was just slightly tipsy you could tell. “The stars?”

That had made you smile and even laugh. “Oh, yes. I missed it, I just hadn’t realized how much.”

“You hadn’t noticed how much you missed this beautiful night sky!” His movements were big, hands up in the air. He even caused some of the other teenagers to stop making out.

“Shh! You’ve interrupted them!” You pointed out as the couple walked away angrily.

“Tha’s great! Look at the sky fellas!” He reached out for them.

You laughed. “Oh my god.”

“Huh, they can be horny teens else here. Why ruin m’moment with the sky and a beautiful girl,” he grinned at you. “This only happens in the movies!” He yelled again.

You couldn’t help but blush and cling to the red cup in your hand. He was drunk.

“In the movies though, the guy isn’t as drunk,” you mocked.

“I’m not even that drunk love,” he said. “I’m just concerned how you haven’t noticed the stars.”

“I had noticed the moon was gone,” you admitted. “Bigger fan of the moon, alright?,” you said. “Right up there, see it?”

“She’s gorgeous,” he grinned. You stared at it, bright and round, and you turned to him shining bright enough in his nose. “She’s the love of my life,” he stated.

You had chuckled. “It’s a shame she disappears once every month.”

“She’s reborn,” he chuckled. “Maybe we should learn from ‘er, huh?”

“Really?”

“Each month she rises up again and she’s beautiful in each one of her stages,” he commented, “no matter if she’s on her way to the darkness, she’s stunning.”

You only scrunched your nose. “We’re getting a bit too poetic, are we?”

He laughed. “Maybe,” he admitted.

“I’m kidding, I like that,” you’d said. “We should all be like the moon.”

“Hm, but if we were, who’d be the stars,” he commented. “It’s funny, we take the stars for granted but y’know what?” He chuckled. “Each one of ‘em is very particular.”

“No one would notice if a star was gone,” you pointed out.

“I would, the sky would look sadder,” he said. “And even if I love the moon, everyone does really, the stars are what paint the night sky so beautifully.”

“Well the moon works hard to be seen,” you grinned. “I think we should compliment her effort.”

“What about the stars? They’re so far away yet they’re freckling the dark sky,” he smiled and then turned to you.“This does feel like a movie scene, innit?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“It’s not one,” he added. “Or else you would’ve kissed me.”

You coughed, blushing. You had felt butterflies. The kind of butterflies that hadn’t disappeared in all those years. “Yeah, it’s not—Not a movie scene.”

You should’ve kissed him, though. But he hadn’t kissed you either so maybe that was the answer you needed.

“Is it the Wednesday Addams in you?” He wondered with a chuckle.

“Maybe,” you shrugged, trying to get as serious as you could.

He blushed. “What would you do if a guy worshiped and adored you? Who'd do anything for you? Who'd be your devoted slave? Then what would you do?”

“I’d pity him,” you quoted Wednesday.

He laughed. “You do know her, great.” He kept staring at the sky. “It would be great if a shooting star passed by, would add to it.”

“Shooting stars, are they like the moon?” You asked.

He chuckled. “No, they’re one of a kind and shall be treasured. If you miss your shot then it’s gone, you should take the chance when you get it.”

“Never thought of it that way,” you admitted.”hm who would’ve thought a drunken teenager dressed as Elton John would teach me of this.”

“A wise drunk teenager dressed as Elton John,” he corrected. “You’re a lil’ bit tipsy yourself huh.”

You grinned. “Yeah, just a little.”

“Besides, you proved my point!” He chipped. “You hadn’t noticed the stars!”

You smiled. “Now I will, I guess, thanks Elton.”

“I love the stars,” he pointed out. “Shame they’re barely seen.

“The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart,” you said.

“The Little Prince,” he grinned. “You know that book?”

“Everyone knows it,” you chuckled. “But yes, it’s my favorite.”

“But everyone barely does,” he grinned. “It’s my favorite book, too, read it each year.”

“Me too,” you beamed. “Helps me out when I’m lost.”

“I always learn something,” he said.

You grinned.

“I’m Harry,” he had introduced himself to you. “Harry Styles.”

And it rolled on the top of your tongue every now and then, that named you crushed and cursed. It had lingered until now. Of course his stupid name was perfect, too.

You should’ve kissed him or ran along with his—had he attempted to flirt? Was he trying that? You knew you had liked him. One of those stupid connections, like he’d said. It had felt like one, one of those coming of age films. But it wasn’t.

Short conversation that you couldn’t quite put your head to it. Didn’t make any sense, if you were honest. You should’ve kissed him, and to this day you still wondered what would’ve happened if you had.

The story of how Harry and Sierra had officially met was his favorite to tell. He’d say it over and over, how a beautiful girl dressed like Puglsey Addams, because of course best friends always match, had accidentally ran to him and he’d spilled his drink on her moments after meeting you. How he had helped her in the bathroom to clean herself and they’d instantly laughed. How he had fallen in love with her the second he’d met her.

Funny.

They had walked out of that party, they’d probably gone for a walk. You remembered it. How since that day you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

How since that day you always stared at the night sky and watched the stars.

Funny thing, he was the one to call you out for being in love with the moon and never paying attention to the stars, yet he had never noticed you. Taken you for granted.

You couldn’t blame him, after all, the moon was the love of his life.

You’d grown fonder of him, and Sierra had made sure you both got along.

“My best friend and my boyfriend have to get along.”

You shouldn’t have, though. Because with time you both were hanging out a friendship was forming, from his side. And then a growing feeling in yours.

Had he ever noticed?

Each time Sierra dragged him so you wouldn’t feel left out, but it was counterproductive because you’d fall for him. Because it seemed that his jokes were just made for you, and you couldn’t help but think that you were meant to be.

Maybe he’d noticed that time near her birthday, years ago, when he’d call you to bake cookies together for your friend. He probably had noticed then. Maybe he had felt something, too.

Licking a spoonful of cookie dough, and laughing against each other, how he would hide his smile, and how he’d give you those shy green eyes before avoiding a laugh when you’d said a very bad joke.

How both of you were tiptoeing and dancing in the kitchen, music playing loud, as you were sitting on the counter and he leaned against it, scrolling on his phone as he played songs.

“Okay, so this,” Harry had said, “this is one of my favorites,” he said before a guitar started to play.

“The Zombies, She’s not there!” You guessed quickly. “A classic, please, you have to be kidding me, play something difficult.”

“How do you know it?” Harry frowned, jokingly turning to you. “I swear—“

“I love them, what do you mean?” You chuckled.

“But you’ve guessed every single song I’ve played,” he pointed out very dramatically. “Every single one, I swear Sierra wouldn’t have guessed one.”

“Sierra has bad taste in music,” you pointed out. “I love her, but really, but she’s got great taste in cookies so she’ll love this.”

Because you knew him. Sierra dated him but you knew him. And sometimes you wondered how Sierra couldn’t really see his magic.

You couldn’t stop thinking about it, back then, how you fit so well together. How your laugh would synchronize with his and how every single joke he’d make, no matter how stupid, was funny to you. The way you’d try to hide some smiles, and how the tension would be broken when she arrived. She whom he loved.

A usual friend. Should’ve remained as friends. You still were. You felt dirty each time they looked at each other, it hurt, so much. And they talked too cute, and they were always adorable.

You had to stop thinking about him.

Except you loved him, and you had realized it, that one time, around Christmas, one of those Christmas parties that you always had with your friends in which eventually Harry had joined in. You remembered how you got his name in Secret Santa.

Cozy night it was, they were cuddling each other.

You remembered how he had opened it, Love is a Dog From Hell by Charles Bukowski, a book he’d constantly mentioned, a book he loved. He had thanked you and hugged you and it had been the perfect Christmas present.

You knew that.

You saw them, kissing under that mistletoe that he’d jokingly placed on top of them. You wished you were her. Sierra being pretty and lovely. And Sierra having him.

But then he’d decided to give everyone presents, maybe for accepting him on your Christmas party, or whatever he meant. How he was the life in the party, and how he had made you smile.

And everyone got presents, and each of them proved how much he put thoughts into it, because he really wanted to make them. How he had given that one friend some brushes so they could paint, or a new camera to that other one.

You remembered how perfectly unevenly wrapped yours was, with that silly wrapping paper that had little Santas on it. He probably had wrapped it himself, you could see how it was cut, and the tape all over it, with a hand-made bow, so pretty. It felt warm, and it felt like him. You opened it, he told you you could rip it off, and you hadn't, you had so slowly opened it, you still kept that wrapping paper to this day. The Little Prince. As if he was joking with you.

He had only winked at you, probably unaware that he was digging a deeper way into your heart.

And you kept loving him, watching him from afar as they kissed over and over again.

How you’d help her with gifts for him, when his own birthdays came around, like when you told her to give him more rings for his fingers, because you knew him. And how he would share his news with you first because he knew you’d listen.

You wondered if Sierra ever noticed he was more than the guy who had nice clothes, and the guy with that pretty smile. Did she ever stop to listen to his thoughts? Those that came at 2 in the morning. Those you’d been able to listen to at a party, where both of you were away from the crowd as Sierra was partying with some other of your friends.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Harry had asked you, that New Years party. They had kissed at midnight, of course. He had brought his guitar, a new habit that he had earned over the time. You loved every time he sang, raspy and quiet. Over the years he’d sing more and more with you, and less and less with crowds. He thought nobody wanted to listen, you did, you always wanted to listen.

You only looked up to see her, she was. Dancing as the lights were jumping around with her, the music bouncing with her. Harry had his fingers brushing against the strings, barely stroking it, as he was so mesmerized watching Sierra. You always wanted to be seen that way, you never would.

You could never be Sierra, and of course, why would Harry ever turn to love someone like you? When Sierra was so perfect and lovely.

You’d never say anything, maybe Sierra did notice. But she trusted you.

“Yeah,” you had answered. You had been cold.

He could tell, you knew that.

“You’re cold,” he pointed out matter-of-factly.

“I am,” you admitted. “Tis cold, though.”

“You’re never cold, though,” he pointed out.

“I am today.”

“I’m not cold,” he had said. “Want my jacket?”

And he had given it to you, and Sierra had seen it. And she didn’t mind. Because Sierra trusted you, and she trusted him.

So she didn’t mind when Harry had taken your hand to shove you into the dancefloor with him. Sierra had said it once: ‘he sees you as a best friend, I think he’s claiming you’.

And you remembered being silly while dancing with him, how he put his hands in fists and shook them in front of his chest, giggling to himself, and gave you that damned smile. And by then by that time you aready had your own way with him, always singing to each other, being stupid really.

Heroes by Bowie was playing, a song he loved, and you did too.

“Just for one day.”

You still thought it was your song.

And though you were the one to wear the sweater, she’d be the one to go home with him. So in love. It didn’t matter.

But life goes on, the birds sing, the sun keeps rising.

It had been a long time since you thought of him that way, he was just one more, another broken heart. And you knew it, that life does not stop, she did not either. And crying for a love that never had a chance to be sounds foolish, insensitive and useless.

At some point you did move on. Because you had to, and you wanted it to pass but then it would always come, how he’d smile at you and you’d think of it, the start that one time when you should’ve done something.

And it was weird listening to Sierra talk about him, she was so desperately in love with him. That’s what mattered, they made each other happy. And so, so happy. And though it hurt, you knew it had to be that way.

You were the one to listen to both of them, whenever they had a small fight or whatever, both sides. You usually agreed with both, honestly, but always took Sierra’s side. She was your best friend, after all.

And you couldn’t tell the world that he made you oh so happy, and you new Sierra probably didn’t even think of it, because you weren’t obvious and you had dates of your own, you dated other people of course, but you always ended up wondering what would happen between you and Harry.

It probably didn’t ever occur to Sierra. Not to Harry either, probably. Because everything was so platonic. Like when he picked you up in the middle of the night just because he wanted to drive around the city, whenever him and Sierra had a fight and he needed to understand her and he knew that the way to understand her was through you. And you’d end up sitting on the trunk of his car, watching the stars, listening to him, making him laugh until the sun was rising.

You knew everything about him, meaning behind every single tattoo, favorite movie, favorite song. You always had to stop yourself, so patient, but sometimes you couldn’t help it, your hand would brush his hair and you’d think about it, if you could only kiss him. Would it feel the way you dreamed of it?

An indentation between you and him, always stepping back. But then he’d smile at you and you’d want to close it. Please, please, please, just once. How would it feel? To seal the notch, close the gap.

And once it had happened. Nothing serious, really. A few years ago, around spring, nothing serious. Not at all. It was an accident.

Really was, of course.

Harry had been excited about Spring, and Sierra always said that whenever spring came around love was in the air, and Harry wanted to plan out a picnic for Sierra so of course he asked for your help.

It had been so stupid, an accident. He had asked you to go to the supermarket with him, and you were prancing around, laughing and having fun. He was always so sweet when it came to be so domestic. He was singing in the hallways as he was choosing the pastries, picking out the wine.

“Something in the way she moves,” he sang along to the song, hand movements as he reached out for a feeling with his hand, exaggerated movements as he threw his head back.

“The Beatles,” you said, matter of factly. But you knew the Beatles weren’t singing that version. It didn’t feel like a usual supermarket song, but he was moving his head and singing.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “However, they’re not the-”

“Not the ones singing, I know, that’s a woman,” you answered before he could fight back.

He giggled, “Yea, this is Phyllis Dillon,” he pointed out. “Such a song. I’m impressed, y/n, you didn’t know her.”

“Didn’t, now I do,” you grinned. “Unusual song for the supermarket.”

He watched you, tiredly with that bright smile that could light up the entire world. Sunlight.

“This is going to sound rude,” he said.

You raised your brows at him.

“But like, if Sierra and I ever break up who’s gonna keep you?” He joked.

You had laughed. “Like a dog?”

He scrunched his nose. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Oh, I’m most certain you did,” you teased.

“Did not.”

“Well I don’t think you guys will break up,” you had said, and you had meant it, because you really didn’t want them to. He made your best friend happy and your best friend made him happy. All that matters.

He smiled, “you think?”

“Yeah, I’m making sure you don’t,” you winked at him. “Also, that wine, Harold?” You asked before putting it back and choosing a better one.

“Thanks for helping me,” he had said. “Y’er always such a good friend.”

“Just making sure everything is—“

“Perfect for Sierra, I kno’,” he smirked. “And you always make sure tis perfect for me too.”

You grinned. “I'm the mastermind behind the relationship.”

And the problem was he had leaned over to kiss your cheek, you guessed in an attempt to thank you for being a friend, but it had been an accident or maybe you had turned to him, subconsciously longing for your lips to meet his. Barely a peck. Yet it had felt… electric. As if a lightning had just struck you.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

And he had backed away.

Had he felt it? That buzzing and flickering spark? That thunder You’d kissed.

In a grocery store. Planking a picnic for his girlfriend. Your best friend. This was wrong.

“I’m—sorry,” both of you had said at the unison.

“I—was going to—“

“I didn’t know—“

But both of you knew it had been four seconds. It’s funny, someone had once taught you to count the seconds between thunders and lighting. In thunderstorms, you count the seconds in between the lightning and thunder, the more you counted the furthest the lightning had struck. 5 seconds equals 1 mile.

In matters of the heart, and considering this situation. The more you counted, the closer you were. 4 seconds had been until he had pulled away.

4 stupid seconds.

Could mean a lot of things, could mean nothing.

Harry and you had stopped talking for a while after it happened. Neither of you told Sierra, but she had noticed you were avoiding her boyfriend which brought her to doubt him. No she didn’t think you had kissed. She thought you had fought or whatever she had come up with.

“Don’t you like Harry anymore? Why are you not hanging out with us anymore?” She had asked you.

“Maybe I don’t want to third-wheel anymore,” you snapped. “Enjoy your boyfriend, Sierra. I don’t have to be around twenty four seven.”

That’s when the problems had started. Not between you and Sierra, but him and Sierra. It was no secret you had been the “mastermind” behind their relationship. But you had walked out of there. However it had been coincidental, or so you told yourself. It didn’t really have much to do with you walking out.

Or had it?

You had guessed you’d feel that way each night, with the light of your phone illuminating your face while the dark room paled your tears. You’d see his initial on the screen, and doubt if calling was a choice. He was never a talker, really. He barely liked to speak up. He was more of...actions. So whenever he didn’t do anything, you knew something was up. He wasn’t... really, he wasn’t like this.

At least a text but he didn’t like texting. Nothing. His silent treatments were like others. The ‘H’ is silent, you thought to yourself.

Funny.

Sierra had mentioned he had been distanced. It was around the time you started dating Daniel. Danny.

And you saw Sierra arguing over and over through the phone, and coming back crying to your shared apartment. Giving her your shoulder to cry on.

She said that Harry had told her he wasn’t sure about it.

Which led to the first breakup.

One that didn’t really last. But you remembered it perfectly, you were at a museum, date with Danny. Nice, romantic.

And then you’d received a call, Harry. He hadn’t called you in a while and you weren’t sure why he had called you.

You had looked down at the caller ID. He wasn’t a texter, you knew that, but—you answered the phone.

“Hello? Harry?” You answered, with fear.

Danny hadn’t questioned you.

“Sierra and I broke up,” he stated.

You felt cold. “Oh.” Your first instinct had been to call your friend. See if she was okay.

“I—“he sighed. “I… can I see you?”

“I—sure but—“

“Okay, I’ll pick you up in ten,” he said. “Please don’t—“

“Oh, Harry I’m on a date right now.”

“You—what?”

“Yes I’m here with Danny,” you had said. “On a date.”

He had gone quiet, dangerously quiet.

“But-I’ll call you when I get home, alright?”

“Yeah.”

When you got home, Sierra had her door locked and didn’t want to talk to you.

“I need some time alone.”

And you had called Harry but he hadn’t answered.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four calls until he answered. Before you knew it, you were with him, driving again, he liked to drive, you knew that. To watch a sunset. As they said in The Little Prince, you see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad.

And he was sad, and he was quiet. ‘Could it Be Another Chance’ by The Samples was playing in the background.

“I guess Sierra told you,” he had said, gulping.

“She didn’t,” you said.

He hadn’t dared to look at you. It felt weird, you hadn’t talked to him a while and seeing him standing there with tears wanting to come down.

He coughed. “Well.”

“What happened?” You didn’t know.

He hadn’t answered, and there was that usual frown upon his face, thoughtful, very thoughtful and dark if he wanted it to be. He was sad or disappointed. You didn’t blame him, of course, breakups are hard enough.

“Dunno,” he admitted. Endless nightmare when he didn’t actually say what he wanted to. He actually had that habit, but he usually showed it, with his eyes.

“Then?”

“Are you afraid of me, y/n?” He blurted out the question.

“Why would I?”

“Not in the--scary way,” he said quickly. “But in the way that we both know each other,” he said. “The way that it feels off.”

“I’ve never felt off with you,” you admitted.

“That’s the thing,” he sighed. “That’s the thing,” he repeated. “I don’t get it,” he said.

“Did you feel off with Sierra?” You asked.

He didn’t answer. Maybe he should’ve.

“We haven’t talked for a while so I have no inkling on where you were standing,” you admitted. “Not from Sierra’s perspective, either.”

He shook his head. “That’s the thing,” he said for the third time. “That’s the thing.”

He had only turned the music louder, and sang along to it.

“Danny, then?” He asked eventually. “Danny?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“And do you feel off with him?” He asked.

“I don’t.”

He had clenched his jaw. “Is it going anywhere?” He asked. “Or is it like any other guy you’ve dated?”

“No.”

“You like him, right?” He asked.

You smiled, slightly, feeling warm on your cheeks. “I-”

“When someone blushes, doesn't that mean 'yes’?” He asked.

You didn’t answer.

“I’m just, I’ve been wondering I’ve always wanted to feel with Sierra the same way I feel with you,” he had said. “Not in-”

“Harry that’s-”

“Sounds mental, doesn’t it?” He sighed. “To want a friend in someone you love.”

“Someone you love should be a friend,” you said. “But I…”

“Did you ever wonder about it?”

“About what?”

He shrugged. “If that night I had ran into Wednesday instead of Pugsley.”

“You did run into me,” you pointed out. “It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Yeah, could’ve been.”

But it had you thinking. Maybe it had been stupid, but you had broken up with Danny after a few weeks of thought. Or maybe led Danny to break up with you because you had been off. And it had felt off, and it hadn’t but with one simple question Harry had made, it had you thinking.

And maybe it was stupid to think that now that Harry and Sierra had broken up you could simply get your shot, but he had been the one to say it, hadn’t he?

Shooting stars are chances. And he was one and you hadn't taken it.

Just after you’d walk in to your apartment with Sierra, you’d seen them kissing again. They were back together.

So there was your chance, gone again but then again it was stupid to think that you could get a shot, besides it was Sierra’s boyfriend.

Yes, heartbroken you were.

And it continued, for a long while. They were fine again and you had to be quiet again. Halloween, Spring, New Years, Christmas, Birthdays, parties, every single season they were there. All the time. And they were fine. For most of the time, other times not so much, and the second, and third breakup came around. Yet, they always got back together, even with all the fighting and yelling which you never understood, not really. Why would anyone stay in a relationship like that?

You guessed that at the end of the day they still loved each other, and their fights were simply stupid and they always, always, always got over them. You didn’t, you remembered them yelling and fighting and just searching for an excuse to stay together, and then they’d kiss and forget it and they’d be calmed.

It still ached, to have him around nd think of the stupid ‘what if’ that would certainly never come because even if you were given the chance, you’d never take it because Sierra was and would always be your best friend.

Did she know? Had she seen it? The way your world stopped when Harry was around? How you’d make time for him or how whenever he was around you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Your bright and true smile, and how you’d listen to every song he told you to, or how you’d always be there to listen to him, no matter the time.

How you looked away each time they kissed and how you wished you could find someone like him and yet it wouldn’t be enough because it wouldn’t be him. Because his mind was the place where you wanted all your secrets to be hidden. His lips were the only one thing that could make you feel, or so you thought, that could make you get to paradise. His voice was supposed to tell your story, and his ears were meant to listen to you.

Yet, it was Sierra.

Not you.

Sierra.

And Harry would tell her. He loved her, he lived for her, spared his entire life and love for her. And though you knew they weren’t happy, you wondered if you were allowed to tell them. Maybe you were biased, and you did hear them say how they loved each other but then it… You could tell it was off.

The moment you had given up had been barely a few weeks ago, finally given up. You remembered how he had asked for your help.

“I’m picking out a ring, y/n.”

“Another one?” You had chuckled. “You’ll need more fingers, Harold.”

“For Sierra.”

“Oh, she’s not really a ring person-” you had started.

“No, I… y/n I’m asking her to marry me,” he had blurted.

You had paused.

“Seems like it’s time,” he said. “And she’s been hintin’ it. Doesn’t get any better than this.”

It hurt. But you had gone with him.

Walking through the store, seeing rings and rings, jewelry.

“I dunno anything ‘bout marriage,” he admitted. “It’s ironic, I love rings yet this one I can’t seem to know….”

“This one is pretty,” you had pointed out at one.

He had made a face, scrunching his nose. Always making faces.

“Why are you doing this?” You had questioned.

He had looked up at you. He knew why you were asking. Because things hadn’t been right but he probably thought this was the way to make things right, but he probably wanted you to question him. Harry couldn’t be tied, yet this seemed like he was tying himself.

It made you sad, how he had lost what made him oh so beautiful, oh so perfect. His freedom. He was willing to take away his freedom. Not because marriage per se was taking away someone’s freedom but for Harry this particular decision seemed like it was.

He didn’t smile anymore, not that much, he wasn’t as silly.

“She’s my moon,” he had said.

“Yet I remember you were a bigger fan of the stars,” you had called him out.

“The shooting star passed, y/n, this is what’s meant to happen, I lost a shooting star, but I love the moon,” he said. “The moon is meant to be loved.”

“Marriage won’t solve your problems.”

“I know, but it might make me get back to my senses, I’ve spent all these years with her, I love her, that’s it, no other explanation, and that’s--”

“Harry.”

“it is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important,” he quoted.

“Love doesn’t mean wasting time.”

And the conversation had continued and you kept playing it over and over your head, and tried to understand if this was your fault, which you were sure led to the fourth breakup, to the one you probably were witnessing now.

To this day, of you standing with your dirty sneakers, with two options. To offer a shoulder or to finally try and fight for something that probably would never work. To risk everything for once.

Standing with your umbrella, watching him staring at you. Wondering what could’ve happened if it had been Wednesday instead of Pugsley. Wondering what would’ve happened if you kissed him. Wondering what would’ve gone by had you made a wish to that shooting star.

You were willing to do it. Risk it all to count the seconds between the lightning and the thunder.

part two: thunderstorms & shooting stars

part three: stars and fate

I’ll tag some friends who might like this:

@saintlavrents @annathesillyfriend @tanyalooovesyou @harrysrightchelseaboot @harrysleftchelseaboot @wholesomestyles @whatevsholland @eerieharrie @pparkeramorr

#harry styles #golden #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles ff #bl&t

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la-fille-en-aiguilles · 4 years ago

Text

The Only Living Thing

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: Language.

Synopsis: You’ve been friends with BIlly Russo for as long as you can remember. Then, on that one night in New York, feelings get mixed up with the liquor that burns and everything spins out of control. So much for being the only living thing that Billy Russo has ever cared about... Or is it? A/N: This just sort of happened. I may be writing more if you guys want, I think I can definitely take this further? I have a pretty hectic schedule but I might make it happen x

Song : Adam French - The Only Living Thing

New York, November 2019.  

Breathtaking.  

You are breathtaking, like the most beautiful view from atop the mountain or his biggest fear coming alive under his stare.   You’re a mix of excitement and terror, and you are enchanting enough to keep him on the tips of his toes, second-guessing everything, his every decision and every word...

You are meant to leave him wanting more.

The night New York has never looked so good on a woman before.

Billy’s vision goes blurry for a second, his stomach hot and heavy.

You are glowing.

You radiate a kind of a warm sepia glow, so beautiful and genuine and so fucking effortlessy...

Smooth and unapologetic.   

Messy strands of hair framing your face, your blushing cheeks, as you laugh your heart out, throwing your head back. Your pearl teeth flash in the dimness of the bar. Your thin black tights are torn at the thighs, your lips are red and irritated as you sink your teeth in, again and again.

Your laugh is flamboyant, intoxicating. Raw.

You are something else...

When suddenly, you see him, your black eyelashes fluttering as you wink at him. Billy’s chest feels too wide, too fragile and too hot. Do you see those unspoken words shining out of his drunken eyes?

When you make your way to him through the crowd, he’s paralyzed, afraid to move forward, afraid to scare you off, but mostly, afraid to let everyone see how desperate he is for your touch.

This is wrong, so fucking wrong, but why in hell when you come over, throwing your elegant arms around his neck, your cute perky nose touching his chest - it feels so. fucking. right?! Like you were custom-made for each other?...

Before he can stop himself, he slides an arm around your waist. You say something to him, something funny, for everyone around him snorts and chuckles, but his mind, his entire world - suddenly comes down to that spot just below his cheekbone where you plant a soft peck of your velvet pouty lips.

“Those twenty bucks we bet on? I win,” you half laugh, half exhale in his ear, your lips brushing against the lobe. “Madani is fucking obsessed with you”.

“Ah,” Billy smiles, both of his hands snaking around your waist now as he looks down at you.

...And I am fucking obsessed with us.

“And you just enjoy rubbing us - this! in her face right now, aren’t you?” he mutters instead, his temples buzzing with the gin and tonic he has been downing all night.

God, he hopes you’re too buzzed to have noticed his slip of fucking epic proportions.

He promised himself he wouldn’t drink, not with you still around - because whatever it was that he felt for you mixed with liquid that burned equaled a very bad outcome.

He might be well into the tipsy territory by now but Billy isn’t delusional. The chances that you would go back to his place or even kiss him back are entirely too slim.

Because friends don’t do friends.

Friends might as well become a new f-word for all Billy cares at this point.

When you throw your head back in an explosive laugh, Billy’s distracted. He gets an extensive view of your elegant neck, your delicate collarbones, but mostly - of the swell of your mouthwatering breasts, as your black silk top tightens over them.

Fuuuuck him.

“Fuck you, Russo”, you echo his thoughts somehow as you wink at him once you’ve restored your breath, not stepping away from his embrace, however, letting him keep his hands on you.

It’s always like this between the two of you. You’ve known each other for a while now - four, five years? After Billy bumped into you at a brunch at Liebermans’ and spilled his frappuccino all over your gorgeous rack. He wasn’t even going to come - but boy, was he glad he did - even though you wasted no time opening that sassy mouth of yours and verbally eviscerating him.

This wasn’t a love at first sight.   For you, at least.

“At least buy me a dinner first,” Billy barely manages, his vision a tad blurry.

He notices you giving him an unimpressed stare. Feeling stupid all at once, Billy blinks quickly and lets go of your waist...

Only to tremble on his feet and almost fall on his face.

“Heyyy,” he registers your breath on his cheek before he hears what you’re saying, your small hands holding him in place. Your touch burns through the fabric of his button down shirt as your palms slide up his sides to his shoulders. “You okay there, Russo?”

Billy squirms, chomping on his bottom lip as he grabs you by your elbows.

‘’M fine”, he says quietly, but doesn’t let go. When he lowers his stare to meet your eyes, he almost wants to cry. There’s concern in their bottomless depths, worry for him and desire to make it all better. He just wishes there was more heat there, and less of that f-word that ends with -riends.

“You don’t look fine, lover,” you retort, wiggling and pushing and pulling onto him until you’re snug under his arms and carrying his dead weight to the exit. “Let’s go get some fresh air, come on.”

Billy utters something half-heartedly, his head feeling like it’s filled with cotton. He didn’t even drink that much, as least he doesn’t think so. Must be your fucking intoxicating perfume, sweet but voluptuous and so fucking tempting...

Pure sin.  

Even drunk out of his fucking mind, he’s still the envy of every guy at that bar because he’s with a stunning, breathtaking, prettiest woman in the whole damn world that is you.

“If you were able to stand right now, that line might have gotten you laid,” you inform him with a laugh, basically carrying him to the exit on your shoulders.

Through the drunken haze, Billy realises he might have spoken those words out loud, but the terror is quickly replaced by...

“Are you shitting me?” He slurs, trying to stay vertical. “Are you saying you want me?”

By the time the words escape his mouth, you have pushed the exit door wide open and nudged him to step out. Losing his balance, Billy crashes into Frank, Stein and Madani, smoking outside.  Dina’s eyes flash mischievously as you step out of the bar, immediately throwing your arms around Billy protectively, helping him to steady himself.

“Oh, so it’s common knowledge now, then?” Dina ventures, licking her lips bloodthirstily, her eyes never quitting yours. “You’ve finally admitted you want to drag that fine Caspian ass in your bed?”

The running joke aimed at Billy looking like a Disney prince feels out of place; all conversation is silenced out as you narrow your eyes at Madani, your grip around Billy’s waist instantly becoming tighter. Frank clears his throat in an attempt to defuse the awkwardness, but doesn’t intervene.

And Billy is... well, happy. Over the moon, actually, and still drunk off his ass.

Apparently, you have been wanting to drag his ass into your bed for a while now!

That does mean you see him more than a friend, right?

What if... What if all this time you were just as hung up on him as he was on you, but neither of you had the balls to say anything?

In his picture perfect drunken world, Madani makes sense and his heart sings.

You want him.

If it were a Disney cartoon, animals would be singing and dancing around praising your couple.

Frankie would have probably made a sick unicorn.

“Oh Dina”, suddenly your voice cuts right through Billy’s happy fantasy, and there’s way too much sass in that voice for it to belong to a Disney princess. “Just because your friend Sam here and your own desperate fan-girling ass carry a boner for some fucked up teenage fantasy that involves boinking Prince Caspian, doesn’t mean all women have that same one-track mind. Some of us can actually look past a dick and see a friend. So why don’t you lay off that Cosmopolitan and fuck off, vodka-cranberry sure ain’t making you brighter”.

Billy frowns, deep lines creasing his forehead.

Frank snorts with laughter, not even bothering to conceal his reaction.     You hold Dina’s hateful stare.

“Whatever, bitch” the latter one finally utters, throwing her cigarette away. “I never fucking liked you. Maybe after this your little fanboy here will see you for what you really are - a fucking coward and a tosser”, Billy’s stares at her in disbelief, his mind still foggy. Madani’s dark eyes flash dangerously in his direction. “Of all women, Russo... Karma is a bitch, isn’t she? Your little princess here only loves herself, lover. Get out while you fucking can”.

Smashing her shoulder into yours, Madani goes back into the bar, leaving equally dreary and awkward silence behind.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Frank isn’t laughing anymore as he folds his hands on his chest, giving you a questioning eye.

You roll your eyes dismissively.

“Well, she’s obviously shit-faced,” you shrug, sliding your hands off of Billy. “What, you’re surprised she hates me?”

It’s a whole another world there, in Billy’s head. Have you just distanced yourself from him after what Madani said? What, you thought he’s so drunk he wouldn’t fucking notice?

“...so just because I have basic restraint and actually appreciate a man as a friend, I’m a damaged bitch with a twisted sense of humour? Look, I don’t know, Frank”, you rub your eyes tiredly with the back of your hand.

“I do,” Billy suddenly chimes in hoarsely, his eyes bloodshot and dark, darker than usual, as they narrow at you. “Know. I know.” Billy stutters, then takes a deep breath. “That’s all I am to you then, sweetheart? A friend?”

Billy wavers a bit as he speaks, but his words are deadly. Your eyes pop wide open at his words, like Russo has just grown a penis on his forehead. Frank’s mouth forms a silent O.

And just like that, the tension is back.

“Well, of course you are my friend,” you say slowly, stretching out your hand in an attempt to grasp Billy’s wrist. Your eyes are searching his face, but he’s locked, like a goddamn prison cell. “You’re my friend and I love you”.

Wrong answer, if Billy’s expression is anything to judge by as he recoils from your touch. His face is a mix of disappointment and anger, his lips a thin line as he turns away.

“Fucking idiot,” he mutters under his breath as he turns on his heels and makes a tentative step towards the bar. Only his body is ruled by gin and whatever shit he chased it with, so his feet get mixed up together. Billy trips over his own shoes.

“Hey, easy there, tiger”, Frank, who’s been standing closer, grips Billy by his arm to help him keep his balance. “What’s gotten into you, man?”

Billy chuckles, throwing his head back, and that has got to be the most bitter sound you have ever heard. You shudder involuntary, watching Russo like a hawk.

“I would have given you the fucking world, you know that?” Billy stares you dead in the eye, grabbing the door handle in front of him. “You just keep fucking with my head like a fucking sadist, and I live by the shit you give me!” you blanch as Billy goes on with the program, hurt dripping from his mouth. “Must have always thought that should be some spectacular pussy you’ve been packing, totally worth all your shit”.

“Bill!” Frank calls him out sharply, his expression terrified.

But the damage is done.  

Your eyes are brimming with tears, but you stay silent, unblinking. Your chest seems a little caved-in, but you hold your chin high as your trembling lips start to move.

“Fuck you, Russo”, you spit, “Fuck you, friend”.

The next thing he knows, Billy explodes in a fit of bitter laughter - even though all he wants to do is fucking cry.

This just goes to fucking show there’s no such thing as Disney fairytale in real life, is there?

“Oh don’t worry, friend, somebody will,” he promises you, swinging the door to the bar wide open. “Gonna go help Madani fulfil her teenage fantasy. While you can stay here, think about us fucking like rabbits and feel better about yourself”.

With those words thrown over his shoulder, he steps into the crowded bar, the sound of the door shutting behind him sounding final.

Plot twist. Curtain falls.

Frank can’t even venture a look at you - he doesn’t even hear you breathing.

“He’s just piss off drunk, that’s it. He doesn’t mean it,” Castle attempts to do some damage control, even though he knows that that ship has most definitely sailed.

“Thanks, Frank,” he hears you say quietly, and as he raises his eyes, he catches the sight of you wiping your cheeks quickly.

You inhale slowly, closing your eyes and fisting your hands.

“Tell Karen and the guys I wasn’t feeling so hot, okay?” you ask, and there’s definitely pleading in your voice.

You never plead.

Before Frank can ever mutter anything about Karen having his head if he lets you walk away at night all alone, you wave at him dismissively.

“I’ll see you”, you say as you collect your hair in a ponytail and walk off, your silhouette soon lost in the bustling New York night.

#billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #billy russo #billy russo angst #the punisher imagine #billy russo imagine #billy russo story #billy russo au #the punisher story #the punisher

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crimefightingspiderguy · 4 years ago

Text

marry me

Summary: Shang-Chi and (Y/N) are best friends, but it's not enough. They want to be more, but can they be more?

Warnings: Angst? No spoilers for Shang-Chi and the Legend of the the Ten Rings, just one reference to the movie but it's not a spoiler.

Pairings: Shang-Chi x platonic!reader

Word Count: approx. 2,423

A/N: I based this off the song Marry Me by Thomas Rhett. Go give it a listen, it's a great song! I want to make more fics for Shang-Chi that aren't as angsty as this, but I wanna wait until more people have seen Shang-Chi so I can include scenes from the movie. Hope you enjoy this ❤️

“She wants to get married; she wants it perfect”

“So, when are you two getting married?” Your grandmother asked as she pointed between you and Shang-Chi.

You spit up your water, “Nana, we’ve been over this. Shaun and I are just friends.”

“Then why do you have a scrapbook in your room titled ‘My Dream Wedding’ if you don’t plan on getting married.” She sassed her granddaughter.

This isn’t the first time she had asked us if we were together. Every time (Y/N) just brushed it off as her being old and stuck in her ways. But this is the first time that I’ve heard of this scrapbook. “A scrapbook? This I have to see.” I grinned at (Y/N), her faced flushed and you could basically see the wheels in her mind working up an excuse as to why her nana had said that. But she couldn’t think of any.

“Nana, what did I tell you about snooping?” (Y/N) turned to scold her.

“What? I’m old and have nothing better to do. It has some very beautiful ideas. Have to both worked out the details or are they all your plans dear?”

(Y/N)’s face turned a deep red as I burst out in laughter. “Come on (Y/N), I have to see this” I held out her hand to bring her to her bedroom.

“Look, I’ve been planning my wedding since I was little, okay? I just want to let you know this isn’t some creepy shrine for you and me or something like that.” She said as she hesitantly took the book down from her top shelf above her bed frame.

“Oh, don’t worry, I KNOW this is a dedication to me and our love. You don’t have to hide it.” I chuckled as she punched my arm and gave me a threatening look.

“So basically, I have pictures that I’ve cut out from magazines or printed off from TV shows that I watch with my Nana that I think would go well with my overall theme.”

“She wants her granddaddy preach in the service”

“I originally was going to have my Papa do the service, but that was before he passed last year.” She looked down at the picture of him that she cut out and tapped down at the end of a poorly drawn alter. She put on a sad smile and sighed, “Hopefully by the time I do get married Nana is still around and I can get her ordained online. Then she can speak for both of them.”

“I’m sure she would love that.” I put a hand on her back to sooth her. She was the closest with her grandfather. Since her parents passed away in a car accident when she was young, they were all she had and he spoiled her rotten. Nana warned him not to let her turn too spoiled, they didn’t want her being a brat. But he assured her that he was just showering her with love. I couldn’t help but understand now why her grandfather would go through such trouble to make sure she felt loved. She is worth it.

“And she wants magnolias out in the country”

“I want to have the ceremony outside, have the alter be surrounded by magnolia trees.” She turned the page to pictures of roads and sidewalks lined with magnolia trees, beautiful shades of pink and white blooming across the page.

“Why magnolias?” I remember her telling me years ago that her favorite flower was a white rose, so I thought that she would for sure have those.

“They were my mother’s favorite.” She smiled, “If I’m going to have a ceremony where I’m bringing someone into my family, I want them all there. Even if it’s just in spirit.” She chuckled as she pointed to the single picture of her mother with a crown of magnolias on her head, spinning around in the sun. “I would always make her flower crowns of them, and I think that’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her.”

“I think that her seeing you on your wedding day would’ve made her even happier.” I say, hoping to reassure her. I never met her mother or father. They were gone before I even came to the US. But when I met her, she had this spark in her still, I imagine that it’s the spark she got from her mother. The same spark she seems to have in this photo.

“Not too many people, save her daddy some money”

“So, how are you planning on paying for all this? I mean, realistically a job valeting cars won’t get you far.” I was hoping to try to get her to change the subject so she wouldn’t get too upset looking through this book.

“My daddy left me his savings in his will. My Nana and Papa saved it for when I went to college, but I got enough scholarships I didn’t need it. So, I figured I’d save it for my wedding or buying a house.” She shrugged, “Like I said, I want all the people important to me with me that day. But I will have to have a smaller ceremony because it’s not that much money he’s left. I think I’d invite family and the few close friends that are like family.”

“She got it all planned out. I can see it all right now. I’ll wear my black suit, black tie, hide out in the back.”

“Of course, I’ve made sure you’ll be on the guestlist.” She flipped the next page and pointed to the picture of me and her on prom night our senior year. I’m in a black suit and tie, she had a soft blush pink dress that flowed down to the floor with white magnolias in her pinned-up hair. This was the first time I was able to really picture it all. Not just looking at pictures, but what it would look like as I walked around the place myself. I can see myself hiding in the back as we get ready for the ceremony to start, making some last-minute adjustments to my suit. Making sure my hair looked okay.

“I’ll do a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask. I’ll try to make it through without crying, so nobody sees.”

I’d probably have to take a shot to ease my nerves. I wonder if I’d be one of those people who would cry as soon as she walked down the aisle.

“This is the dress that I want.” Her voice pulled me out of my thoughts, she showed me a dress that would fit her perfect. It was flowing but puffy. She had a long train and lace accents all over. She would look like a princess. I can see her perfectly in the dress, and not just because she cut a photo of her head out and taped it over the model of the dress, but because I think it is exactly the type of dress, I would expect her to wear. This answers my question, I would definitely be the first one to cry as I saw her walking down the aisle.

“It’s perfect. You’ll look perfect.” I whisper to her. I could see her holding onto my every word. Like she wanted to hear nothing more than those words. I slowly moved my hand from her back up to her cheek and cupped her face. “Everything is perfect.” I tell her. Her skin lights up under my touch, as if it’s a flame setting fire to her body.

“Yeah, she wanna get married. But she don’t wanna marry me. I remember the night when I almost kissed her. I kinda freaked out, we’ve been friends for forever. And I’d always wonder if she felt the same way.”

I’ve never wanted to kiss her more than right now. I’ve thought about it before, but never needed it like I do right now. She started to lean in, eyes fluttering shut. It’s now or never. But something stopped me. I don’t know if it was my nerves, or if it was just too much all at once, imagining us get married, but I just couldn’t do it. She felt me pull away and stopped herself, she shot her eyes open and realized that she read the situation wrong. But she didn’t read it wrong, I just chickened out. I’ve wanted this since the day I met her, but it was just too scary. What if we ended up breaking up and hating each other? She was too important for me to lose.

She just cleared her throat and acted as if nothing happened, turning the next page of her scrapbook.

“When I got the invite, I knew it was too late. And I know, her daddy’s been dreadin’ this day. Although he don’t know he ain’t the only one givin’ her away.”

I woke up to the sound of my alarm, turning over to shut it off I felt the paper I had cried over last night. An invite to (Y/N)’s dream wedding. After the night when she showed me her scrapbook, she seemed to become distant. I don’t know if it’s because we almost kissed and I seemed to reject her, or if she just got too busy with her new boyfriend, but it broke my heart more and more every day until I was just numb. That was 3 years ago, now she had moved on and found someone who wasn’t afraid to grow up and commit to her.

I’d been to see her Nana a couple times after she had started dating him and she scolded me just as I had scolded myself.

“You know, I was really hoping it would’ve been you. You would’ve been perfect together.” She shook her head in disappointment as I helped her in the kitchen while (Y/N) and her boyfriend set the table in the dining room. “I don’t like him as much as I like you.” She sighed and went back to chopping her tomatoes.

“No one’s more disappointed than I am Nana.” I looked down at my hands, feeling empty without hers in them.

“I’ll wear my black suit, black tie, hide out in the back. I’ll do a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask. I’ll try to make it through without cryin’ so nobody sees. Yeah, she wanna get married, but she don’t wanna marry me.”

“Hey, did you get the invite?” (Y/N) called me shortly after I’d woken up, knowing when my alarm was set for.

“Yeah.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“I know that we haven’t been… the closest lately… but I hope you’ll still come. Afterall you’re in the scrapbook.” She chuckled, hoping she could bring me around to the idea of going. She still didn’t know why I’d distanced myself from her all these years. I can imagine I’ve hurt her, but I only hurt myself every time I see her with him, so I had to do it. “I asked Sam if he’d be willing to make you a best man, since I can’t have you as a bridesmaid. He said of course you could be. It really would mean the world to me if you would.”

While I wanted to be nowhere near Sam, helping him celebrate his wedding day with the love of my life, I wanted nothing more than to be there for her. No matter how she wanted me there.

“Of course, I’ll be a best man. I wouldn’t miss your wedding if the world was ending.” I smiled through the phone, knowing she wouldn’t see just how broken it was.

“Ah! Yay! I was hoping you’d say yes! I can’t wait to tell him. I’ll talk to you later, love you.”

I hung up before I could say anything back.

The day of her wedding came sooner than I’d hoped. It was a beautiful spring wedding with the pink magnolias surrounding the alter in full bloom. I was in a black suit and tie with a flask of whiskey hidden in my coat pocket. I was in the back helping Sam make his last preparations when I saw her.

“But she got on her dress now, welcomin’ the guests now. I could try to find her, get it off of my chest now.”

She was stunning. The sun shining off her in the most perfect way. She was out greeting guests before the ceremony started, in her reception gown, saving the real gown for later when no one would see. Even in this substitute dress I couldn’t help dropping my jaw when she turned my way. She came over to me and threw her arms around me. “I know I’m supposed to be getting ready, but I couldn’t wait to see you.” She whispered in my ear. God did I miss her.

“(Y/N), there’s something I want to tell you.” I start to work up the courage. It was now or never.

“But I ain’t gonna mess this up, so I wish her the best now. I’m in my black suit, black tie and out in the back. Doin’ a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask. I’ll try to make it through without cryin’ so nobody sees. Yeah, she wanna get married. But she don’t wanna marry me.”

“Yeah Shang-Chi?” She looked up at me as she pulled away from me. She looked so perfect. I just wanted to tell her everything on my chest and run away from all this with her. Live happily ever after. But this is real life, this is a wedding she’s planned out since she was a kid. She wants it to be perfect. I can’t take that from her.

“Everything is perfect. You look perfect.” I force a smile as she grins and giggles at me.

“You’re so dramatic, but I love that about you.” She kissed my cheek and told me she’d save me a dance as she went back to her dressing room to finish getting ready.

I pulled the flask out of my jacket and took a strong swig. Sam was calling me over to get in line at the altar.

Bridesmaids one through four walked down the aisle carrying bouquets of pink magnolias. She followed them up in her beautiful gown, straight out of her scrapbook. A bouquet of white roses with pink magnolias blossomed out of her hands. She absolutely took my breath away, but it wasn’t me she was marching towards.

Find more of my work here.

My work is exclusively posted on Tumblr by me, on this blog. If you see my work posted elsewhere, please reach out to me.

Thank you, xx.

#shang chi x reader #shang chi and the legend of the ten rings #shang chi #shang chi fanfic #mcu x reader #marvel fanfiction

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angelkurenai · 4 years ago

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Break those rules - Dean Winchester x Reader

Title: Break those rules

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: Hey! So this is my attempt at making a request: DeanxReader where feelings have not been expressed yet. They're just researching some stuff together. The reader absent mindedly smiles when they're reading something. Deano notices. Then he just kind of jabbers about how adorable the reader's smile is. End with a kiss and finally expressed feelings maybe? I wrote a short little writing prompt kind of like this on my blog. (It's near the bottom if you want a better idea for the request) Thanks! xxx

“I don't get why Sam has to get away with only three hours of research and I am stuck here for the fifth hour. In a row.” Dean said with a rather heavy, and even more dramatic, sigh as he flipped open another book and rested his chin on his palm.

“Stuck here huh? Wow, way to make me, and the company I offer you, feel so flattered, Winchester.” you said as you looked up at him through your lashes. He couldn't see much of your face as you kept focus on the book before you but that didn't mean he couldn't hear the obvious playfulness that laced your voice or nearly feel, let alone imagine, the small smirk that tucked at the corner of your lips.

“You know what I mean.” and still, despite your easiness, he couldn't help but feel a pang in his chest if only for the pout you gave him – playful or not – and he rushed to speak again “To tell you the truth, being in your company does make it ten times better and always worth it, but-” he raised a finger “That's still not enough to make up for...” he looked down at the books, his face a mix between horror, disgust and exhaustion as he said “This. And besides, we're not even making progress as it is. Field work could do much more or say if it was more than just the two of us here, there could be en end to... this.”

“This-” you tried to mimic his tone “Is what we can only do now, I am afraid, no field work left. And to answer your previous question: Sam gets away with three hours because he's already read through his part of books. Meanwhile you are stuck over that book for the past hour. And you're not going anywhere before you read the rest either. Stop stalling.”

“Then stop being so distracting, for a change yeah?” he couldn't help but mumble as he rested his chin on his palm and slid a little bit down his seat.

“How? I didn't even start this in the first place!” you protested, eyes wide.

But certainly not as wide as his when he realized the words had really slipped past his lips “What- n-no, I- I didn't-” he started but actually stopped himself “Well, actually-” he felt bold, maybe even looked like it and hopefully - he prayed to any deity that didn't hold a grudge on him and that was listening - that he looked confident as he imagined in his head; or at least the part of his head where he wasn't freaking out “You heard me. It would be much easier to focus if you weren't so distracting.”

“Do tell? And what is so distracting about what I said? Seeing as you were the one to start this conversation.” you asked with a small smirk, ready to sass him out of anything that he could come up with, just like you'd done so many times before. Or so you expected.

“Nothing.” he shrugged, face mostly neutral save for the casual half smile “It's not what you said. It's not anything you did either. It's just you being you. You're distracting. I just look at you and get carried away in an instant. Sometimes you're so distracting I can't even get my thoughts in an order, let alone focus on research. So, no, really you are the only one to blame here. But ain't that in the best way possible, huh sweetheart?” he asked with his smile turning into a grin.

He was proud at himself for getting it all out without a single stutter and even more praising himself deep down for not showing any of the panic he was feeling, slip through. Because oh there were all kinds of red lights and sirens going off in his head at the moment; he was freaking out not only at this newfound surge of bravery but also at the words that were really coming out of his lips in this very moment. Why now, when after all this time he had held them back along with his infatuation- schoolgirl crush, Sam would say and he would be 100% right about it even if Dean never admitted it out loud. And even more he was proud with himself for - by whatever miracle - how it did sound like he was flirting and not struggling to be a human. So much so that he huffed his chest out a bit, thinking that if today was the day - and it seemed so because of how he really was on a roll - then so be it. He had not had any previous signs to you being interested in him as he was in you, sure, and for that he feared he probably was simply stupid and not brave but there was really no taking it back now and for the first time he didn't feel like it.

“I-” you started, blinking several times as you looked at him carefully an for a couple dreadful moments of silence when he nearly felt like caving in because of his panic, Dean held his breath, and listened as you spoke up again “Are you for real? I- I mean are you- Dean-” you huffed, your eyebrows pulling into a frown and your lips almost forming a pout that was the exact definition of distracting he was referring to “Seriously, this is not funny at all. If you wanna joke around here then-”

“Joke?” he breathed out before you could get to continue with your words, let alone thoughts “Why would I? No, no. I'm being absolutely honest here.” he shrugged so casually he might have patted himself on the shoulder for the achievement if you weren't there, and if he wasn't so distracted once more by seeing the way your eyes widened and you then blinked before looking down shyly.

And he continued “Sweetheart, I don't get to tell you often and shame on me for that but with Sammy all the time in the way I can't express myself so I'm just gonna go ahead and say it: You're so beautiful that everything you do is distracting to me, even just being in my presence. Sometimes you struggle with that, I get it, given the job we do. But don't let anyone tell you different, because all of it only makes you even more special. Thought-” he shrugged with an easy smile, looking back at his book as if it was nothing, as if he wasn't in a struggle with his very own self to just look at you at all time just to not miss a single reaction “You should probably know that. Not that you're not already aware but I suppose... since we're making small talk. And just so that I let you know, that there is nobody else I'd rather be stuck doing research with.”

Your lips fell apart and the soft sound of “Oh. Oh I- oh.” escaped past them before silence set in the room, one that he enjoyed a little too much as he looked up at you through his lashes only to see you shift and play nervously with your clothes or the pages of your book. You kept opening and closing your mouth before you ended up clearing your throat and straightened your back to look straight at him.

He did the same, meeting your eyes with the most straight face he could master “Yes? Something the matter?”

“No, I- I just- Well-” you cleared your throat again, shifting in your seat “Thank you for- for...”

“For?” he inquired and you shot him a half-hearted glare that melted so soon into the sweetest look he ad ever seen on your face.

“That. What you said. You know what you just said. I don't have to repeat it.” you said so fast, a small huff leaving your lips “A-and I appreciate it. So thank you for it.” your eyes fluttered down to your hands before you shifted in your place “But still-” you gave him a stern look as if to brush the whole topic off; it was the easiest thing when you didn't know how to respond and your whole face felt as if it was on fire “That ain't gonna cut down any research for you. You've gotta get through those books and you won't leave this place until you're done.”

“I wasn't looking for any special treatment.” he shrugged all innocent.

“Good.” you said stubbornly “Bause you ain't getting it. So quit the sweet-talking me and get back to work.”

“Fine, fine!” he raised his arms in surrender, looking down at the book but not stopping the mumbling, loud enough for you to hear “Since when did speaking the truth turn into sweet-talking, I had no idea.”

“Quit it, Winchester. Or else I'll throw this book at you and it will definitely not be a happy ending for you.” you tried to say seriously, putting on a stern face but only for the sake of seeming determined and unaffected; despite what your eyes told him at that moment.

“Fine, fine.” he sighed dramatically “Not that I'm stalling but you just should wear those jeans more oft-” he paused when you narrowed your eyes at him and he rolled his “Alright. They look great on you but I get it. No telling the truth today. Back to work.”

“You're unbelievable sometimes.” this time you scoffed a laugh, shaking your head and he didn't fight his own grin especially as you muttered “Idiot.” at him.

He hummed, this time not looking up at you as he whispered “I am.” and let the comfortable silence fill the room, calming the both of you as you went back to work. Dean even more so than you because - as far as he was concerned - he needed it more than anything.

Surprised and proud as he was at himself for getting all of that out, he still was a mess of emotions all of which refused to die down, and could feel his heart hammering in his chest, his pulse so intense that he felt it to the end of his very own fingertips. And better not get started with the way he could feel a familiar heat spread all the way up his neck, to the tips of his ears and dangerously close to the rest of his face, making him wish that it was at least not obvious to anyone that would look, which really only meant you.

With his head still very much in the clouds, feeling high and dizzy on emotions if not somewhat filled with the aftermath of adrenaline from what could only be an almost-confession, he found himself only skipping through the words, barely paying any attention to them. His fingers played with the pages as he basked in the warmth and comfortable feeling of this newfound silence. It was like coming home after a long time and soaking in the comfortable and familiar warmth of one's bed.

As the words before his eyes blurred for what seemed like, at least, the tenth time in only a couple minutes, he decided that that was it. His mind was running with so many thoughts that he couldn't help it; he wanted to steal another look at you after this endless and at the same time too short silence. Chewing on his lower lip he slowly tore his eyes away from the text and took a good look at you, shameless about it as he should be, as he had every right to be and he wouldn't let anybody tell him otherwise. He was in love, goodness how crazy it was to even think about it, and by the looks of it – by some crazy chance even better – it seemed like there was hope for him that you might feel something for him too.

So why even try to hold back from taking it all in?

The grin on his face only got wider, much as he tried to hold it back, when he saw you pause. Your eyes clearly moved away from the page, deep in thought and with your chin resting on top of your palm. You could very easily hide it if you wanted to, but that didn't seem the case and so Dean could see fully the beautiful smile that graced your lips. Whether it was at something you had just read or because of something he'd previously said he didn't know and frankly it didn't matter. Because the moment he saw that smile his entire mind went blank, there was nothing that it could come up with... unlike his mouth, that is, which had plenty to say apparently.

Gosh how can that smile not turn even the worst tortures to the sweetest thing in the world? It's just so damn beautiful, that I know there's not a single thing I wouldn't do for it. Hell, the moment I saw it for the first time I knew I was a gonner, fell stupidly head over heels for you as anybody else would and the more I got to know you, the more I got to see that smile the more clear it was to me that those feelings were there to stay. And so they have. I knew I would do anything in my power to see it again but to go to such extents? “Hell, sweetheart, I'd climb over freakin' mountains just for that smile and I ain't just getting poetic, you know I never could. There are always different kinds to it that I don't know how you do it but this- this right here is my favorite. It's so free and so true and so damn adorable and you almost try to hide it sometimes and shit that makes me angry at who could have ever made you believe it is not gorgeous enough to show but also so damn stubborn too, to take it upon myself to make you smile like that every freakin' day of your life. I won't get shit done, I know, because it's just so distracting but heavens-” he breathed out, not clear where the air even came from after all the rambling “That smile is worth all of the stars, sweetheart.”

A heavy albeit not uncomfortable, by any means, silence hangs in the room once more after Dean's done with his rambling. He didn't even realize it as the word poured out of his lips, heavens out of his very own heart and soul is better, right there for you to hear, just as he didn't realize the second you stopped looking at the book. Your eyes were currently on him, wide and beautiful as always, blinking in surprise even after you thought that there was nothing that Dean could do that could surprise you more today.

But as the realization downed on Dean, it didn't leave a pleasant shock but rather a chilling one; the same one would get after an ice bucket being dumped on them. Not that he was willing to let you know that, so instead he gave you an awkward smile and asked “...Did I just say that out loud?”

He did, after all, hope that by some high power you hadn't heard a thing and that it was all still words in his head and not a confession – although very much needed – probably poorly-timed.

“I-” your lips parted as you blinked several times in disbelief “Y-yes-” your voice cracked a little “Yes you actually did.”

“O-oh o-ok c-cool.” but not as much as his did, before he cleared his throat “Cool. That's uh terrific... Embarrass myself more than I have in my entire life in the span of half an hour. Way to go Dean.” he mumbled the last part to himself as he looked away from you and down at his book with wide eyes.

“I mean I-” you chewed on your lower lip before you straightened your back a bit more and look at him with a bit more confidence “I would have interrupted you but for one I wanted to hear all of it, seeing how adorable you were being it was a sight for sore eyes, and for another there is a date rule I must keep up with so-” you shrugged but it was anything but innocent with the smile you were sporting.

Not that any of it mattered, because one thing registered above all “Dating? What dating? And what kind of rules?”

“Sadly we don't have a dictionary here but I'm sure you can guess, pretty boy. And as for rules well it goes like: kiss on the first date, everything else after the third date.” you rested your chin on your palm again and looked him in the eyes “Wouldn't wanna break that one, no matter how tempted I was to shut you up with a kiss, you bloody idiot.”

“...You're kidding me right now, right?” his eyes were wide and he only managed to get the words out after a good few seconds of silence. Minutes probably.

“Alright, yes, maybe we do need that dictionary. Listen, I'm gonna put it as simple as possible and pray that that wonderfully smart yet so very stupid brain of yours gets it: You take me out on a date and you can get to be as distracted as you wanted by my smile. Stare at it, kiss it away only to kiss it back up on my lips. Anything you want. Because I've been waiting for too freaking long for you to say these things and I'm done beating around the bush. I am coming clean. I have feelings for you too, Dean.”

Again silence before “...As in for real?”

“Couldn't get any more real. Always had them.” you smiled, this time actually shyly at him.

Pause, a long pause actually, and he blinked rapidly before asking “This is really not you trying to, I don't know, let me down easily or something?”

“Absolutely not, why would I? I meant everything I say.”

“So that means-” he actually held his breath, feeling his head beat so hard it would almost break out of his chest “Are we... you know?”

Your smile turned into a more teasing one, almost a smirk as you shrugged “Only after the first date.”

“So if I did happen to ask you out now, you would...?” he had to be sure this wasn't some kind of dream.

“Say it would be my pleasure.” you nodded your head.

“And- one more question, just-” he raised a finger, taking a calming breath in even if it was a bit shaky “...So long as there's say beer and maybe burgers that's...?”

“The perfect kind of date for me, you know i-”

“Awesome!” his eyes widened and he jumped up from his seat with a grin on his face.

“But not while doing research!” you said fast enough before he could get much further away “No beer and burgers while researching is not a date.”

“Not even a little?” he asked and you shook your head “...Then can research itself maybe be?”

“Absolutely not.” you said despite the pout he was giving you. It did make things harder.

“...But what if I maybe, really wanna get a kiss right now? What do I have to do to get that kiss?”

“Guess what?” you grinned and you could see the hope in his eyes before you made it vanish into thin air “Research!”

“More books, yay!” he said with a huff, his arms falling by his side as he made his way back to his seat “Of course it's books.” he groaned and you couldn't help your grin “But really... nothing else? I know your smile makes it all worth it but honey... this is the worst kind of torture!”

“Alright you big child come here. Can't believe you're making me break my rules.” you sighed with a shake of your head “Just one, for getting this far with research, as a reward.”

“Oh you know I love rewards.” he grinned “How about one about every book I read? And if it ends up otherwise, oh well, Sammy can handle the case alone right?”

“Don't push your luck, Winchester.”

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural one shot #supernatural x reader #dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean imagine #dean winchester imagine #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean one shot #dean winchester one shot

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feysandfeels · 4 years ago

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Which TS songs remind you of the different couples in SJM’s books???

Boy do I ??

You are a blessed soul for asking me this, and know that I adore you.

There is now a part II to this.

Feysand:

Begin Again: “I've been spending the last eight months Thinking all love ever does Is break and burn, and end But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again” Baby Feyre finding that love is not toxic, that love is supportive, that love can be wonderful. “You said you never met one girl who had As many James Taylor records as you But I do” but think of is as “he said he never met a girl who wasn’t afraid of his power, but i do”. Also also “Walked in expecting you'd be late But you got here early and you stand and wave I walk to you” because Feyre’s used to T*mlin’s mediocre ass but Rhys surprised her by being a decent human and treating her with respect, which makes her realize that she was starved for respect and that T*mlin was not giving her what every decent human being should get from the get go from their partner.

Ivy: Feyre slowly falling in love with Rhys, thinking about Rhys in the Spring Court between Night Court visits Also throughout ACOMAF how she battles with her ever growing feelings for the Lord of the Night, while feeling guilty about T*mlin, because they *just broke up*: “Oh, goddamn My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Taking mine, but it's been promised to another Oh, I can't Stop you putting roots in my dreamland My house of stone, your ivy grows And now I'm covered in you” and “I wish to know The fatal flaw that makes you long to be Magnificently cursed He's in the room Your opal eyes are all I wish to see He wants what's only yours”.

End game: I can practically see Rhys singing this in the shower thinking about Feyre, when she decided to work with him and him thinking like “YES THIS HAS TO BE A SIGN”. His reputation precedes him and in rumours he’s knee deep, him and Feyre would be a big conversation, he has enemies, he has heard about her and she has heard about him. He thinks “she’s so dope that he might overdose”. She’s been calling his bluff on all his usual tricks so here’s the truth from his red lips!!!!!

Dress: “Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me Flashback to my mistakes My rebounds, my earthquakes Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me And I woke up just in time Now I wake up by your side My one and only, my lifeline”. Need I say more? I think not your honor.

Call it what you want: “I said you don’t need to save me, but would you run away with me?” That’s Feyre’s whole arc, I rest my case.

Nessian: the happiness I feel about the fact that these two are together is just enough to make me smile on a Monday

False God - The song literally opens up saying “We were crazy to think Crazy to think that this could work Remember how I said I'd die for you” HELLOOOO?? NESTA THINKING ABOUT THAT SCENE IN ACOWAR?? but also feeling that she’s unworthy of Cassian and that there is no way in hell that he will love her with all that she is.

Don’t Blame Me - The power of this song lies in the I unapologetic- powerful-full on I give myself to you and I will do it over and over again energy it has. And this is the energy that Nesta has for Cassian (even when homegirl really tries to pretend otherwise lol boo you tried). The “through your love I found salvation” religious aspect of Don’t blame me is Nesta, because through Cassian’s love and presence she found the perspective she needed on herself. Also this book was a religious experience for me. Jesus fuck.

Sparks Fly: From Cassian to Nesta, with love. First of all Cassian would be a diehard swiftie (all of the bat boys for that matter, merch a the concert, what will we do if we get invited to the rep room?? fans. Az woud be like the quiet yet “no, speak one ill word of Taylor and that’s your end, she did nothing wrong she was framed and I have evidence”). Second of all “The way you move is like a full on rainstorm And I'm a house of cards You're the kind of reckless that should send me running But I kinda know that I won't get far” That’s him alright, that’s him knowing that Nesta is a force to be reckoned with and he wants nothing nothing but to be in that storm and live within the force of nature that she is. Thirdly “My mind forgets to remind me, your a bad idea You touch me once and it's really something You find I'm even better than you, imagined I would be I'm on my guard for the rest of the world But with you I know its no good And I could wait patiently But I really wish you would”

Elucien: This is an Elucien blog.

Lover - In all honesty wanted to give this song to Feysand, because they are my main otp and this song is the highest of the high from Taylor, but I can’t deny the fact that this song screams Elucien. “With every guitar string scar on my hand” I think is a beautiful parallel for Elain and gardening, “My heart’s been borrowed, and yours has been blue” this speaks of Gr*yson and Jesminda, “I loved you three summers now but I want them all” that’s Lucien speaking ma’am. “Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?”, both of them about the bond. “And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me and at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover” we all know Lucien has a mind for dirty jokes and sass and Elain would always save him the sit next to her because he is the one who truly saw her and, in his distance, was the presence she needed while she figured it all out. Finally, The fact that the song has very clear wedding tones I think fits the headcanon, that more than a mating ceremony, Elucien would have a wedding, because it feels like something Elain would feel more comfortable with.

Treacherous -“I can't decide if it's a choice Getting swept away I hear the sound of my own voice Asking you to stay”..... mmmmmm is this or isn’t it Elain getting closer to Lucien, but still wondering if it’s the bond or her, yet nonetheless surrendering to the fact that she wants him to stay. “This slope is treacherous This path is reckless This slope is treacherous And I, I, I like it” Elain doesn’t want an easy love, to simple do as the bond suggests she wants something that has twigs and branches and where she needs to question herself and truly ask what she wants out of life and this relationship. Also the softness of the melody juxtaposed with the vulnerability, brings a soft rawness that is Elain.

King of my heart: Neither of them expected to feel like they could love with all the hope and unapologetic free falling feel characteristic of first loves, yet here we are. They rule their kingdom inside the room because they are discovering their feelings for each other away from prying eyes and people that have expectations on how they should work with the mating bond and all that. “Late in the night, the city's asleep Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep Change my priorities The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury” Again, with the love away from everyone, feeling their world shift around what they are starting to feel for one another. “Is the end of all the endings? My broken bones are mending With all these nights we're spending” did we say healing arc through love and support an “not expecting anything to come off this, but I just want to see you well” à la sjm?? I THINK WE DID.

Emorie: I’m working with crumbs here, delicious crumbs that will make a delicious emorie cake, but crumbs nonetheless.. I need more and I need it now.

I think he knows - My girl Emerie crushing hard hard haaaaaaaaard on Mor.

Cruel Summer - “I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you And I snuck in through the garden gate Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh) And I screamed for whatever it's worth "I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard” this is prime PRIME PRIME ANGST, we will get from these two.

Gwynriel: this is an edit because I'm not a hoe for these two (yet...trust me once I see Az heal this is the tag where you will find me) and I did not know which songs might fit them and then when I posted it I was like WAIT WAIT I KNOW.

Gold rush - Gwyn talking herself out of her crush on Az after finding out about the whole necklace and being like “I don’t want a gold rush”.

Daylight - Az is a Taylor hoe first, spymaster second. She just makes him feel things. But in all seriousness “Like daylight It's golden like daylight You gotta step into the daylight and let it go Just let it go, let it goI wanna be defined by the things that I love Not the things I hate Not the things that I'm afraid of, I'm afraid of Not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night I, I just think that You are what you love” this is Az healing and being in better place where he can reflect on how he used to relate to love and romantic relationships, he now understands that love is not black and white but golden. He stepped into this notion of love and through it he found a beautiful relationship with Gwyn, he wants to be defined by the love he feels for her and the love he feels for his family, not by the things that haunted him, not by his mistakes, not by his trauma. He is golden, he is daylight, shadows and all he is daylight.

Az + Elain: As a romantic end game they are not my ship, but I do stand by my pre-acosf position that these two would be really good friends

Out of the woods - Where we stand after acosf I say that it is not far fetched that they might hook up and then realize that it’s not for them and that experience helps them access a new part of their healing: “They lost each other, but they found themselves”. The anxiety that this song mirrors is the anxiety of them knowing something doesn’t quite *fit* right, that they are both in turbulent times emotionally and this relationship is not giving them the peace they thought it would. They are paper airplanes, because they know that it’s not the right call for where they are in their own journeys if they want to heal properly and that neither will get what they truly want from the other one. The monsters who turned out to be trees, they are in the woods in this relationship, they were built to fall apart.. are all images that speak of the dynamic we could see of them, they try it doesn’t work and then after, when they are in better places mentally they will look back and be like “we dodge a bullet there didn’t we”.

Bonus: His necklace hanging around her neck, the image is clear there and so is the commentary.

Az + Mor: formerly known as Moriel, the ship that used to reign my heart

Breath - This song is entirely from Az’s perspective once he and Mor talk about, well, everything. This is not how he had planned it, this is not how he wanted this to go, but “people are people and sometimes it doesn’t work out, but it’s killing me to see you go after all this time” referencing letting go of the romantic feelings he had for her. They were a crutch for him and now he has to face life and the things that torment him about it, without the protection and comfort his crush on her offered him. “And we know it's never simple, Never easy Never a clean break, no one here to save me You're the only thing I know like the back of my hand,” regardless of what you all want to think, they do love and know each other but shift in their dynamic will mean an adjustment for both of them... it’s not a clean break. “Never wanted this, never wanna see you hurt Every little bump in the road I tried to swerve”, also Idc about what you all think, Az never never never wanted to hurt Mor, if he knew his behavior was in someway affecting her he would have done something, and I think from the aftermath of him going after Eris on ACOWAR we can see that... also this might allude to him actually knowing that Mor is a lesbian and he has tried to make sure she feels safe around him and knows that he has her back agains the whole world if need be, regardless of her lack of romantic feelings for him.

Feyl*n: honestly who knew there would be so many songs that would fit these two. Such bops for a crappy dude like T*mlin.

Exile - “I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind) I couldn't turn things around (you never turned things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)” He never even tried to learn to read her mind, he never turned things around and she gave so so many signs. The way he looks at Rhys like he’s his understudy, but no sugar he’s the principal actor and you got fired.

Getaway car - and I oop. Because that is essentially what they were both to each other. Feyre needed someone to give her security and financial stability, T*mlin needed someone to break the curse: “It was the best of times the worst of crimes”.

Bad blood - LOOOOOL. They used to be mad love and now they have bad blood.

Tell me why - Imma just leave a collection of quotes here that well allude to them through the first act of ACOMAF: “I took a chance, I took a shot And you might think I'm bulletproof but I'm not You took a swing, I took it hard And down here from the ground, I see who you are” Feyre seeing T*mlin for the abusive person that he is, from the ground.. where his behavior put her. Also “I'm sick and tired of your reasons I got no one to believe in You tell me that you want me, then push me around And I need you like a heartbeat But you know you got a mean streak Makes me run for cover when you're around Here's to you and your temper Yes, I remember what you said last night And I know that you see what you're doing to me Tell me why” The if he loved me, why did he do it and the “it’s not a question of if he loved you but how” conversation she has with Rhys.

I could go on and on forever placing all T-Swift songs around acotar characters, but I think this is getting longer than we all anticipated.. or did we? we all know I am not ✨concise✨. Anywho, thanks for sticking around.

Besos!!

BOOOONUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSS:

Obviously, Invisible String is for all my mated/soon to be mated boos, and I think Peace is a song that can apply to both Feysand and Nessian from Rhys’ and Nesta’s perspectives respectively.

#Feysandfeelsasks #Taylor Swift #Sarah J Maas #SJM #ACOTAR #ACOMAF #ACOWAR #ACOSF #Feysand #Nessian #Elucien #Emorie #not to toot my own horn but I think the Daylight one with Gwynriel is amazing #I will pat myself on the back.#Gwynriel #Moriel #and when I tag moriel i mean friendship moriel

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