#this chapter nearly broke me

[lizisshortforlizard]

Living Dangerously - Chapter 29

Jurassic Park’s animal handlers: none of them ever mentioned by name in Michael Crichton’s original novel. Who were they? What were their lives like on Isla Nublar? Did any of them survive the disaster?

A year in the life of those responsible for the care of the dinosaurs. Many people would kill to have their jobs.

But would they die for it?

Jurassic Park novel/Jurassic Park film (1993)

Viewpoint: 3rd person female oc

Warnings: ready to have your heart ripped out?

Tagging: @heresthefanfiction @ocappreciation @wordspin-shares @howlingmadlady @arrthurpendragon @themaradwrites @starryeyes2000 @kmc1989 (please lmk if you would like informed of my sporadic updates)

Read on Ao3

Chapter 28 | Chapter 30

Living After Midnight - Judas Priest

Over the constant hum and buzz of the jungle darkness, never completely silent, Lizzy’s laughter was ringing through the trees, ricocheting around the clearing next to the Rex paddock. 

She had a filthy laugh that Muldoon hadn’t heard before. At hundred per cent volume, totally out of control, with her head thrown all the way back.  It was bloody glorious. 

And he would be attempting to make her do it again, as soon as possible. 

I’ll have more of that please. 

“Christ Almighty-“ Lizzy wiped her streaming eyes. “-that’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard. Well done.” She started cackling breathlessly again, clutching her stomach.

“If I wasn’t awake before that, I certainly was afterwards.”

“I’ll bet.” She wriggled uncomfortably, her ribs were seriously aching. “That was a good one. Got any more?”

“More than we’ve likely got time for.”

The campfire was finally dying. They’d been out in the park for hours, it had to be almost midnight. 

He built me a campfire. Lizzy was practically vibrating with contentment. Not that she couldn’t build her own fire, of course she could, but that wasn’t the point. The gesture was the point, and the fact he had agreed to an open flame amongst trees in the first place. 

Just this once. While there’s nobody here. Those were his exact words. 

Breaking the rules. 

Just this once. 

“We’ve got all the time in the world.” She insisted. “You really should write these down, you know.”

“Maybe someday. If I ever manage to retire. In fact-“ he was struck by an idea. “-you’re a decent writer.”

“Planning on keeping me around that long?”

“I’d like to think so. You have your uses.”

“I’ll take that.” Lizzy worked hard to keep her voice even after the compliment. “But you’d need plenty of photos, or drawings. I don’t know about you, but I’ve always preferred books with pictures.”

Her tone had just enough suggestion for Muldoon to wonder if Baker, despite her promises, had let slip about his own artistic capabilities.

He quickly moved the conversation along before she had too long to dwell on the thought. “You must have a few stories of your own by now?”

Lizzy did indeed have a good one she hadn’t yet shared. Through instinct, she looked around the clearing for eavesdroppers, although they had to be the only two humans for miles and miles, a vast stretch of ocean separating them from the nearest civilisation.  

“On the topic of photographs…I never told anyone outside of the research station because I didn’t want to embarrass Simon.” She rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t matter now, and it’s not like you two will ever meet anyway.”

“Go on.” He caught his grimace just in time at the mention of the ex-fiancé’s name. 

“The first time he came to visit me in Namibia, he was a little, uh-…condescending to the locals in our team-“

Muldoon was familiar with what the swift response from said locals would be, rich white clients tended to all behave in a similar way. It was expected. But that was a whole other collection of tales for the fireside. “I’ll bet that was swiftly resolved.”

“They had some fun with him first. Simon was parading his new Polaroid camera around giving it “magic picture” this and that. I was mortified.”

“Christ-“

“He hasn’t travelled much outside the States.” Lizzy explained. “Or, in fact, outside the state of New York. Anyway, one of my team, proceeds to tell Simon, translated by yours truly, that she prefers the resolution on the Nikon 35mm and also that she had the equipment handy to help Simon clean his dirty lens.”

Muldoon smiled grimly. “You laughed too, I imagine?”

He wondered if it had been as good as the ridiculous laugh he had recently become acquainted with. 

Lizzy had indeed tried and miserably failed to keep a straight face at her partners come-uppance. “I couldn’t help it!”

She recalled the memory. Simon’s face had been hot and red, mortally embarrassed, and he’d stormed off by himself into the long grass. 

A terrible, possibly fatal response. 

Once she’d caught up to him with a shotgun slung over her shoulder, she’d had to sweet-talk him into returning to camp before he stumbled across a big cat, buffalo or even a snake who would really give him something to be upset about.

That hadn’t improved his temper at all, but he had been downright foolish of him to just wander off like he was taking a stroll in Central bloody Park!

Why’d you laugh at me? Are all your friends like this? Do we really have to stay out here with them? What’s wrong with Windhoek?

Windhoek, really? They’re just messing with you!  It’s fine! 

Not fine, Liz! They should apologise!

You’re the one who should apologise! Pembe is the best guide we have and you were damn rude-

And so on. One of many disagreements, and they seemed to be increasing in frequency. 

“Yeah, he didn’t see the funny side at all.” She sniffed. “Was never that great at laughing at himself. Bless him.”  “You need to have a fantastic sense of humour-“ Muldoon’s voice was as dry as if he were telling Lizzy her shoelace was untied. “-to work with things that regularly try to make your life insurance policy pay out before time.”

“Good thing you’re so in tune with your emotions then, eh?” The comment earned her nothing more than a derisive glance as he lowered his slouch hat over his face, and she chuckled again. 

Maybe it was the Towel Incident, or the disastrous cooking attempt that had followed, but the ice was well and truly broken. No going back now. Lizzy felt the most like herself since the breakup. It was so easy, talking to him like this. She was happy. 

They were on opposite sides of the campfire, Lizzy scooched a fraction closer on her blanket so she could see him better through the heat haze. 

Muldoon was on the ground too, stretched out on a blanket of his own. Lizzy wasn’t sure how he seemed to look even taller lying down. She shook her head, trying to chase away the thought of how she’d measure up. 

Lizzy watched him for a long time, thinking to herself in comfortable silence, before speaking again. 

“Tell me about her.”

“Who?”

He’d answered instantly. Of course he was awake under the hat, alert. As always.

“Your wife.” She answered quietly. 

Muldoon hmm-ed for a long moment, Lizzy waiting as patiently as she was able, trying her hardest not to fidget. 

Just when she thought there was no way he was ever going to answer her in this lifetime, he did. 

“You’re not unlike her. Your attitude is-“ Damn. Did it again. He corrected. “-was very similar.”

“You can say ‘is’.” Lizzy told him gently. “Nobody here but me.”

“She cooked much better than you can.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Lizzy muttered. “But, in my defence, I didn’t know food could be any other colour than beige until I left school.” Shuffling where she sat, her legs starting to get pins and needles. “She pretty?”

“Knockout.”

“Wow.” She grinned. “Lucky you.”

“A lot taller than you.” Muldoon added. “Honour is likely going to hit six foot once she’s in high school.”

“Honour?”

“Our daughter.”

“Ah.” It occurred to Lizzy he’d never told her the name of his child before. Or ever used the prefix ‘our’. Always mine. Always my responsibility from now on. No more our. 

It felt like he was divulging a massive secret. Honour. Lizzy rolled it around in her brain. Not a name she would ever have imagined him going for, but she liked it. Rather a lot.

He took the hat from his eyes and looked her up and down. “She’s almost your height already, in fact. Although that wouldn’t be difficult.”

“The diet of beige is to blame. Unfortunately, I’m stunted.”  Not where it counts Muldoon thought. There was a reason he liked walking behind along Dr Armstrong where he could get away with it. The view was spectacular.

He tried very hard to get her quite frankly unfair side profile out of his head before he answered. “We’ll pretend the smoking habit had nothing to do with it, then. Honestly, the pair of you would have gotten along.” It was the truth. His wife, too, loved elephants and had a downright filthy laugh.

“Did Jeff know her?” Lizzy asked, hoping the answer was yes. 

“They were lethal together.”

“Dr Blacklaw has quite excellent taste in women, what can I say?” She made a show of tossing her hair back.  Muldoon found himself wondering if their paths had crossed sooner and he had met Armstrong in Africa, how would he have felt about her? How would she have felt about him? 

Life might have been very different. Maybe he would have turned down the offer from InGen, gone to India instead. He wouldn’t have to be so careful about what he said or did all the time. 

At least the other chap was out of the picture now. Matters were a damn sight better than when she first arrived with that rock on her finger, like a shameless beacon, flashing I’m taken every time the sun caught it at the right angle: You haven’t got a hope in Hell. 

Maybe the universe was capable of working things out for itself, even if it had put him through the metaphorical wringer to get to this point. 

“Has there-…” Lizzy was so relaxed she had forgotten herself, who she worked for, and all her manners. As the question was tumbling from her mouth she realised how inappropriate it was. They were good friends, sure, but working friendships always had their limits.

She was about to cross a very dangerous line. 

“What?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Less of that. It clearly does, or you wouldn’t have said it.”

In a rare occasion, she seemed lost for words.

”Nobody here but me.” He quoted her own words back to her.

“I…don’t know if you’ll like it.” She fumbled. “I was just curious. Nosy. I was being nosy, alright? Sorry.”

“Try me.”

Lizzy knew that tone. I dare you. If you’re brave enough. Deep breath.

“Has there been…anyone since?”

I double dare you.

There followed a very long pause during which Lizzy thought don’t ask why, do not ask why. 

“Why?”

Dammit. 

She couldn’t be the only person on the planet who could see the appeal. More-so now that he’d stopped drinking, Lizzy had an even harder time keeping her thoughts in check. He was looking damn fine recently. 

“Eight years is a long time!” Lizzy sighed and wrung her hands. “And I told you that you wouldn’t like it! Don’t answer. No need.”

“It’s alright.”

Muldoon was in fact very interested to see where this particular conversation was headed.

They could have been back in Kenya, with the campfire and animal calls, though of a different era, still familiar in their nature, all around them. 

If there’s a right time, it’s probably now.

“Nobody significant.” He answered. One or two that didn’t work out. Three or four that had just been stress relief. Nobody that he felt deserved any more of his time or his life, or his daughter’s. Until Armstrong had landed on the island with a bang and instantly began rearranging the natural order, and damn her, questioning the where-why-how of everybloodything. 

Lizzy meanwhile, was wishing she had never brought the subject up. 

And she knew the reason. Not because it was awkward to talk about, strangely enough it wasn’t awkward in the slightest. His answer had been as casual as if she had asked him what the time was, or what the weather was likely to do tomorrow. But the answer she had most wanted to hear, been hoping to hear, no, nobody at all, was way too much to wish for. 

She’d been correct. Eight years was a long time.

Or maybe Lizzy was just a little peeved he’d probably done better in the last eight years being out of a relationship than she had done  being in one until very recently. 

She had to admit the first two years with Simon had been a lot of fun. After that it became less about fun, and more about we’re in the same country, so we’d better do something about it. God, I’m so tired. Are you tired? C’mon, we gotta. At least once. I love you. So tired.

“Anything else in this particular line of questioning, while we’re at it?” He actually sounded amused.

“When…-“ Lizzy started then ground to a halt again. Way too inappropriate.

“When…?”

She just wanted to die there and then.

“Doesn’t matter.” She frowned and deliberately looked away. “Forget it.”

“Were you about to ask ‘when was the last time’?” Muldoon smirked. He knew he was on the money. And seeing the normally confident and bolshy ethologist becoming a little flustered was delightful. “Getting rather personal there, Armstrong.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” She stammered. “None of my business.”

“I honestly don’t mind.” This could work both ways. “We’re adults. I will if you will.”

Curiosity was burning Lizzy’s insides so much that it was manifesting as stomach ache. She had gotten herself into this mess, may as well keep going. She nodded, ignoring  Kathy’s voice in her head warning you’re gonna get in troooouble…

“Remember when the dilophosaur did a number on you? I was away at the time?”

“Huh. So when you said you had a good trip, you meant you had a good trip. I see.” She played with the belt loops on her jeans, reluctant to deliver her side of the deal. 

Muldoon cleared his throat. “Forgetting something, missus?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t like this game.” Lizzy grumbled, only because she was losing. 

“Then don’t give what you can’t take. I’ll have to make a wild guess if you don’t want to say out loud.”

Lizzy mumbled something that he took as affirmative.

“Let’s see, then.” She was shifty-eyed and squirming. Brilliant. “ Didn’t you stop off in the States with your man before you came over here?”

“Well, yeah-“ Lizzy forced herself to get over her self-consciouness. She still had the Spanish dictionary somewhere in her room in the lodge. Regrettably, the only thing Simon had given her before she boarded her flight to Costa Rica. “But if that’s your guess, you’re dead wrong.”

Muldoon looked at her in disbelief. He had so many questions.  What the Hell had the man been playing at?! It was like he wanted to lose her.

“This year at least?” 

“Yes, if you absolutely must know!” Lizzy knew the exact Pantone shade of scarlet she was turning, far beyond pretending it was from the heat of the campfire. “April was a very good month, okay?”

April?! It’s nearly bloody next year now…

Her short temper now seemed incredibly explainable.

”I can hear you thinking.” Lizzy said grumpily, still not looking directly at him. “Not quite the answer you were expecting from someone like me, eh?”

“If that’s true, I can’t help but feel most of your bad moods have a fairly easy fix.”

“Not so easy on a tiny island, where people talk. Our favourite engineer being the main culprit.” She grinned at him. “Or I could follow your example and finally have a good reason to go back to the mainland.”

He didn’t want her to do that at all, actually, but he grudgingly agreed.

She was lying on her side, propped up on an elbow. The size of her waist in comparison to her hips was unreal. Nothing wrong with her khaki shorts, but those damn jeans were doing her some incredible favours.

Lizzy couldn’t stop, though she was wary of feeling upset from finding out more things she didn’t really want to hear. “So, do you really like this person on the mainland?” 

Muldoon chose his words carefully. ”There is someone I’m keen on, yes.”

What the-

“Oh. Yeah, great. Good for you.” It came out more sarcastic than she intended. 

Muldoon nearly laughed. Armstrong wasn’t following him. 

”You know, it’s alright to be jealous.” He couldn’t resist toying with her.

Lizzy’s reaction was explosive. 

”I’m not-“ She practically back snarled at him. “Hm. I’m not jealous!”

Very convincing thought Muldoon. 

No, not jealous. She was fuming. Someone else?! Why was he telling her that? Lizzy really thought he liked her, and now he was interested in someone else? 

”Armstrong…” Please get there faster. I’m not ready to say it yet. 

Boy, did she feel silly when she realised Muldoon was talking about her.

She was the one he was interested in. 

”This person-“ Lizzy was finally on the same wavelength, much to the relief of both of them . “-I’m not sure she’s good enough for you.” 

“Oh, really?”  “I have some questions. Just to be certain.” The delighted grin was threatening to burst forth. She forced a neutral expression.

Keep it together.

“First question: is she pretty?”

“Very.”

“Intelligent?”

“She’s a clever girl, yes.”

“Meek and feeble?”

“Not even a bit. And you know fine that’s not what I would want.” Muldoon gave her that look she knew oh-so-well. “You’re pushing your luck, by the way.”

Lizzy laughed again, the real, uncontrollable laugh, and he finally smiled.

New Year’s Eve, or Hogmanay as she better knew it, had always been more magical than Christmas. No matter how bad things got, the moment the clock struck midnight had the promise of a new beginning, a fresh start. A chance to do better this time around. 

But she knew exactly what would happen this year on Nublar. The spell would break. They would go back to the visitor centre, back to work, and in a few days it would be as if this night had never even happened.

She needed to do something. Before it all ended.

“You alright in there?” He had noticed her smile fading. 

”Fine. Just thinking.”

Muldoon scoffed. 

“I know well enough that fine, very rarely means fine. Especially when it’s coming from you, my girl.” He stared her down. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s just…not fair.” Lizzy became aware she was whining, and hated herself for it.

She didn’t need to elaborate. He knew exactly what she meant. “I agree.”

Why couldn’t we have just met in Africa? 

”I don’t want to go back. Not yet.”

“Neither do I, but we have to, at some point.”

“Why, though?”  Muldoon hesitated, trying to word it as diplomatically as he could, to avoid upsetting her.

“Because there are rules that can’t be broken, and ultimately I’m responsible for your safety.” Damn this whole situation. “That is what it all comes down to.”

“Okay.” She reluctantly agreed. “Let’s go, I suppose.”

It’s not okay, it’s not okay at all.  A part of her had desperately hoped something would happen that night. Conditions were otherwise perfect. They’d likely never have a chance like this again for a long time. 

But it wasn’t meant to be.

Unless…

She had an idea. 

“Fire’s still going.” Lizzy stated flatly. “I’ll sort it out.”   The ground was too hard to kick dirt over it. But she knew Muldoon kept a couple of metal jerry cans in the back of his Jeep. Not InGen protocol, just old habits. 

One was water, one was gas. Labelled of course, but it was pitch black apart from the glowing embers nearby.

Don’t want to get these two mixed up. 

She unscrewed the lid of the first container and got a noseful of fumes. Then checked the second, and bingo, slightly stale water that smelled like the colour green. But it was much heavier than she anticipated, almost full. 

“Ooyah! Son of a bitch!” She’d tried to lift, lost grip, and somehow managed to trap her finger between the two cans with a bang. 

“Everything alright back there?”

“It’s fine, under control!” Lizzy struggled to free herself, cursing under her breath at her own clumsiness. Idiot. “Shitshitshit, come on!”

She eventually succeeded, dousing the remains of the fire with a quiet sizzle and a faint wisp of smoke.

Darkness.

Muldoon hadn’t started the Jeep yet, waiting for her, there wasn’t any light at all in the clearing.  She put the can in its place, then hung back by the tailgate, quiet and still. 

And in three…two…one…

Muldoon didn’t take long to twig that something suspicious was afoot.

”Christ’s sake, Armstrong, don’t do it!” He sounded exasperated. “If you’re planning on playing hide and seek in the dark again, I’m not having it this time.”

She didn’t answer.

If he wasn’t into this, he’d just wait me out.

Lizzy was very quickly proven right.

“I know exactly where you are.” He kept up a stream of expletives in her general direction as he slammed the driver’s door. “I’ve being doing this for years. I’m very good at it.” 

Come get me, then.

Lizzy didn’t even hardly dare breathe, placing her palm over her mouth to stay quiet.  Silence. 

For just a beat too long. 

Hang on, where the Hell is he? 

Lizzy realised she possibly no longer had the upper hand.  A tiny, deliberate, shuffle of gravel under heavy boots right next to her, that made her jump and flatten her body against the taillights with a small thump.

He was close. Much closer than she thought. And she’d just given herself away. 

“Got you.” Muldoon was attempting to sound put out, but he’d enjoyed that, as much was evident in his voice, she could tell. “Too easy.”

”Fair and square, mister. So, what are we going to do next?”

”You’re going to get in the Jeep, and we’re going back to the lodge.”

Lizzy leaned against the rear bumper, making the metal creak underneath her. Just so he knew exactly where she was.

”See, I don’t really feel like getting back in the Jeep right now, isn’t that a kicker?” She hoped the lip-bite was evident in how she coyly spoke. “What are you going to do about that?”

“I will pick you up.” Muldoon threatened. “Employee handbook be damned.” 

“If that’s the case, handbook out the window, then I think you should do more than just ‘pick me up.’” She mimicked. “I’d let you.”

“Lizzy.” Deep, exasperated sigh. “I am using your first name so you know how serious I am. Get in the Jeep.” 

She uttered the two words that she knew ahead of time would be the equivalent of a red rag to the park warden. 

“Make me.”

God, she could feel the annoyance radiating from him. He was bristling. 

But nothing could have prepared her for what happened next. 

Lizzy heard him tapping impatiently on the side panel of the Jeep, it felt like a countdown.

Should I be runni-?

“Right-“ He was fast.

She wasn’t fast enough. 

And really should have ran while she had the chance.

He was making good on his word that he would pick her up, willing or not, employee handbook, workplace code, the unspoken rules all thrown out of the window, never to be seen again. 

Muldoon went straight for her legs, grabbing handfuls of her through her jeans. Damn woman, she would get in the bloody car. 

Lizzy shrieked and flung out her arms, scrabbling for something, anything to grab onto, both hands found and gripped the sides of the Jeep tailgate. 

Muldoon was trying his best to pry her free while she barely clung on for dear life with her fingernails, not unlike a cat that was avoiding being stuffed into a cage and carted off to the veterinary surgery.

She felt the pressure on her legs ease, and thought he’d given up. She started to loosen her fingers on the cool metal. 

Then he found the backs of her knees with both hands, and pulled hard. But Lizzy wasn’t for letting go just yet. She still clung on for dear life like a very determined barnacle. 

“By Christ, you’re strong-“ There was a hint of desperation in Muldoon’s normally measured voice.

That did it.  Lizzy was gone then, she started laughing helplessly at the absurdity of what was happening, what events had led to this moment, and how ridiculous they must look.   She finally lost her grip all at once and slid ungracefully downwards with a thump, accepting defeat, still cackling.

Lizzy just knew Muldoon was shaking his head in exasperation at her in the dark, his accident-prone, walking disaster of an ethologist. 

“Sit up, you bloody lunatic.” But then her entire hand was grasped in his, pulling her upright into a sitting position. “For God’s sake, don’t bang your head. It might knock some sense into you, but I don’t fancy the paperwork.”

”It’s far too late for me.” Lizzy tried to catch her breath. “Would need to be one Hell of a bang.”

Realising the connotations too late, she snorted and muttered sorry as she tried to reason with her hair, patting it back into a more respectable shape.  

She felt two fingers under her chin, tilting her face upwards and she tensed, her breath caught in her throat.  “What am I going to do with you, Lizzy?”

The question was absolutely loaded.

”Anything you like.” She impulsively answered in a low voice.

She was euphoric, riding the high that had been building since the moment she stepped down out of the Jeep into the clearing, and honestly she just didn’t care any longer. 

They would never be alone again after New Year’s Eve. 

This was it. Her only chance for God knew how long. 

She had it bad, so bad for him. And she couldn’t really remember just then why this was such a terrible idea in the first place. Something about those damn rules…

Eh, never been one for the rules anyway.  Lizzy craned her neck upwards, stretching as far as she possibly could, relying on her intuition alone in the dark. 

She found what she was searching for and after a last moment of hesitation, she finally did it. She kissed him.  

He pulled away slightly, unsure. Lizzy felt sick that she’d misjudged horribly, and was starting to seriously panic with how she could possibly play this one off.

I…fell?

But she could have cried with relief when he apparently got over the surprise and began kissing her in return, leaning into her. Responding to her. 

It felt so right, so bizarrely normal, that Lizzy found herself briefly wondering why they hadn’t been doing this the whole damn time they’d known each other. 

Slow and hesitant at first. Then something simultaneously clicked for the both of them, and it turned into an altogether different experience. Urgent, messy, not at all careful, not what Lizzy was used to at all.

Lizzy feared the lamps would click on and flood the clearing with light at any second. Like they had to hurry before they were caught, as if John Hammond himself might pop out of the bushes, brandishing his cane, gotcha!

But it didn’t matter. This was what she’d needed. She hadn’t realised how much she needed it, that she wanted this so badly. For far longer than the past few months of living in Costa Rica.

She realised she didn’t mind so much anymore if she banged her head on the floor of Jeep. Repeatedly. In fact, at this moment in time she’d be glad of it. They might not make it back to the lodge. 

But as quickly as had happened, it was over. Fate had very different ideas for how the night would progress. 

He pushed a little too hard into her hips, and oh God it’s happening, forcing her backwards against the bed of the Jeep as Lizzy let her legs relax and fall further apart. It was evidently far too much for the built-in motion sensor, and the alarm in the vehicle began blaring like a police siren at ear-splitting volume, all lights flashing in unison. The Rex snorted and roared unhappily at the disturbance from the other side of the fence, only adding to the din.  The noise had the same effect as if someone had poured a bucket of ice cold water over them. 

“Shit-“ Lizzy shot upright, pulling away and covered her ears while Muldoon fumbled for the Jeep keys to stop the racket. 

Then silence. Deafening, smothering silence. Even the Rex was quiet. A single hadrosaur trumpeted in the distance.

She waited, unsure what to do next, she couldn’t read his expression in the dark, but he felt off. Something was badly wrong. 

“I’m taking you back now.” Muldoon said tersely. “I would really appreciate it if you just do what I ask this time.”

”Okay.” She knew better than to argue.

“That was out of order.” He continued icily. “That cannot happen again.” 

“Got it. Sorry.” Lizzy felt the heat rising in her cheeks. Goddamn embarrassment, flooding every cell. I can’t believe this. I’ve blown it. “I’m really sorry.” 

He didn’t respond as she shuffled into the passenger side and quietly buckled her seatbelt. He wouldn’t even look at her. She tried again, one last attempt. 

I’m using your first name so you know how serious I am. 

”Robert, I’m really sorry.”

Please believe me.

Please answer me.

She‘d never used his name before, ever. This wasn’t the pleading circumstances she wanted to use it for the first time. Not at all. 

Her efforts didn’t work. 

”Don’t do that.” Muldoon replied flatly, starting the engine while staring straight ahead. “We’ll deal with this in the morning.” 

Lizzy’s heart plummeted, her chest constricting, aching with that too familiar pain all over again.

Her stomach was flipping back and forth in sheer panic for the entire silent-and-not-in-a-good-way journey back to the lodge. 

She didn’t even bother trying for a goodnight as they parted ways to their own rooms. Neither of them did.  I’ve really done it this time.

Months of building a rapport, gone in an instant because of one false judgement. And what if he told Jeff what she’d done? What if anyone on the island, at InGen, found out what she’d done?

The rumours that had been swirling around would finally be true. There were names Lizzy would be called that she couldn’t just brush off anymore. Nobody would take her, or her work, seriously ever again. She’d be an outcast.

All terrible things. But worst of all was Muldoon refusing to acknowledge her. That was the reason she was trying her damnedest not to cry.  Stupid. Stupid, stupid idiot! 

It had turned out to be too much too soon. Maybe too much ever.

Why do I always do this? Why do I always ruin everything? 

***

Thanks for reading!

If a particular anecdote sounds familiar, I mayyyyy have drawn some inspiration from George of the Jungle (this is very important for later 🎶)

The story I envisioned Muldoon telling Lizzy is along the lines of Peter Capstick’s black mamba in the latrine story from Death in the Long Grass. If you want some idea of just how funny it is, I’ve read it multiple times and know what’s coming almost verbatim. I still laugh every time I read it.

And hearing Muldoon calmly recount one of the many times he’s almost checked out early would be, I imagine, quite hilarious.

I can’t believe I finally got to post this chapter. It’s been here since the very first draft, it’s quite special to me as New Year, or Hogmanay as we call it, is a much bigger deal in Scotland. A very important tradition is the first foot, which is supposed to bring you good fortune for the year ahead.

…I guess they did it wrong.

[the-darklings]

might mess around and post official preview for the tibyim finale tomorrow 👁

[c4tto626]

well, at 13k+ words total it's finally finished ✌🏻

now loyalty's a pistol (and my heart is full of holes)

if anyone wants to read some ghost/soap 💀🧼

[trashedump]

istg my least favorite part of maddening is the fact that they gave all the archers poison strike. why did they do that

[sapientandroid]

I wish time moved faster, I need to see how Shimeji Simulation resolves itself, because the last few chapters have made a hole in my heart that only grows larger with each new addition

[noxtivagus]

oh man i still love ffxv so much 🫶🏼

[soldmygenderforglitter]

You should put all 22 twst boys in a tier list from 22(least favorite) to 1(your fav)

I don’t genuinely dislike any character, but Rook and Leona. Those two just get on my nerves.

[notmyneighbor]

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 5

Word Count ~5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ sexual content, mild body horror and violence

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

The power is restored later that evening.

You are still sitting on the living room sofa before it happens, still tucked against the doppelgänger. Listening to the death of the storm outside. Watching the gray light oozing through the windows grow dimmer.

“How far did you walk to get here?”

“Not far. The delivery truck broke down about a mile from your house.”

“I’ll give you a ride back into town tomorrow, then. You’ll need to get it repaired as soon as possible.” It was strange, planning things with the imposter like this. As if you were truly allies and not sworn enemies. “What are you going to do once you move back?”

“I haven’t decided my next course of action yet.” His thumb is caressing the line he’d carved on your arm. Gentle, absent strokes.

A blossom of light suddenly illuminates the room. Electricity. You sigh with relief, straightening. You notice your panties still lying on the floor where he’s discarded them. The things that had seemed forgiveable in the darkness now feel indecent under the lighting. Like you’re being judged for your transgressions.

You look at what had once been Francis Mosses and your heart turns over again. And this is why you’ve done it; all of it. Because the sight of him instantly weakens you. You can’t help yourself.

His clothing, still in a state of half-on, half-off, is rumpled, still dirt stained from his trek to your house.

“I’ll draw you a bath,” you say. “While I make dinner.”

He rises, hastily fastening the button of his fly so the work pants don’t drop to the floor. The belt buckle he leaves as it is, the end with the metal piece jingling as he walks, following you up the stairs. The farmhouse squeaks in protest with each step. A heavy tred, though the milkman had never seemed anything but lean. Perhaps what was dwelling inside lent the extra weight.

You turn the lights on as you go, making sure every corner is devoid of shadows. There’s a tiny linen closet in the hall you retrieve a bath towel from. You’re considering what clothing you might have that he could wear while you wash his. Something a former boyfriend had left behind, maybe. You lean and turn the faucets of the claw foot tub on, testing the water temperature and adjusting accordingly.

“I have to find something for you to wear. Just leave everything on the sink and I’ll wash it for you.” You’re about to exit the room when he halts you, fingers lightly closing over your forearm. The previously injured one.

His lips touch yours. Just once. Just for the feel of it, to place a reminder there. You were his.

The deceiver releases you, working on the buttons of his work shirt’s cuffs. You duck out of the bathroom, making your way to your dresser. Nearly every piece of furniture in the home is hand made, built to last. Solid pine, the scent of it still strong after all these years as you begin rummaging inside. There, at the bottom. Shoved way back. Undershirt, briefs.

You snatch at them and return to the other room. Finding the imposter nude, standing beside the tub. You blush, not looking directly at him as you shut off the faucets. You test the temperature a final time and decide it’s safe.

“Soap, shampoo. Here’s a wash cloth.” You point out the items. Wondering if these creatures ever bathed. If cleansing their true form was ever a concern.

One foot sinks into the water. The other follows. He sits down slowly. A little sigh escaping at the feeling of soaking in the warmth.

“I’m going to go start supper.” You close the door softly behind you, descending the stairs. Considering your options for a meal. You’d never gotten a chance to check the garden earlier, so fresh vegetables were out. Canned ones, then. Green beans and instant mashed potatoes from the box. Leftover meatloaf from the previous evening. A quick, easy meal to prepare. Your eyes linger on the bottle of milk in the refrigerator. Not from Francis’ company, but a reminder nonetheless. You shut the fridge again after grabbing the necessary ingredients, then preheat the oven.

It doesn’t take long to get things ready. How strange to see two place settings on the oak kitchen table. You hadn’t had company over in a long time.

Still no appearance from your current guest. You walk to the foot of the stairs. “Francis! Dinner is ready.” You were still unsure how else to address him. It just seemed easier to call him that. If it bothered him, he didn’t reveal it.

The pretender returns just as you’re pouring two glasses of iced tea. You’ve never seen Francis with wet hair; it lies so dark and flat when it’s wet. The clothing you’ve lent doesn’t quite fit right, a little loose on the shirt and tighter on the material clinging to his hips.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything better to offer you. I wasn’t expecting…”

“It’s fine.” He holds out a hand, turning it over to stare curiously at new wrinkles along each digit.

“You pruned up. Spent too long in the water,” you explain. “How was the bath?”

“Enjoyable.”

“Good. Have a seat.” You drag the chair out slightly and he finishes the task, settling at the table about to be laden with food.

The dark eyes follow your movements around the kitchen. Potholders in hand as you remove the reheated dish from the oven. It seems too quiet in the house. You wish you had switched on the radio in the living room. Just for the comforting sound of background noise. Something to soothe your frayed nerves.

You sit across from your guest after you’ve filled both your plates. He still hasn’t touched anything. Hesitant. Waiting. And then you realize it. Francis would have said grace. You close your eyes and bow your head, reciting the words. “Bless us, oh Lord, for these thy gifts that we're about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord, Amen.”

A soft echo of the last word. You wonder if it would be considered blasphemy, what you’ve just done. The invader participating in it. You’ve never been overly religious yourself. You suppose you’ve committed far worse transgressions than this one over the course of the day.

The dark haired creature lifts a spoon and takes a tentative scoop of the white mixture, bringing it to his mouth. Considering the taste. “Good.”

You realize you’re starving and you dig in. Stabbing the loaf and cutting off a piece, blowing on it to make sure it’s cooled enough before taking a bite. Still moist. Your grandmother’s recipe. The figure on the opposite side of the table mimics your actions. “Careful. Don’t burn yourself. It’s still hot.” You hate burning your tongue. That awful soreness, the awkward numb feeling.

It doesn’t take long for the imposter to clear his plate. “Seconds?” He nods and you push back your chair, lifting his plate and returning to the counter. The glass he refills himself from the pitcher on the table. “Have you eaten before this?”

“Yes. But it wasn’t…” He pauses. “Different than this.” He seems reluctant to elaborate and you’re not sure you want him to, so you let the subject matter drop, setting another helping before him and retaking your seat.

You struggle for a safe topic of conversation. Everything you think of, each query you seek answers for, seem anything but. This domestic peace between you feels fragile. You’re not sure how long it will last.

After the meal concludes you bring your dishes to the counter and the false milkman copies your actions, piling them next to yours beside the sink. You let the water run hot and then plug the drain, filling the sink halfway. You squeeze a generous dollop of dish soap from the bottle tucked on the rim of the porcelain basin. A little too generous, maybe. There are a few little iridescent bubbles that drift through the air in front of you.

One arm tucks around your waist from behind. Lips beside your ear. You struggle to scrub the plate in your hands, your heart pounding. A throbbing further down. Still hungry for him.

He hums Francis’ song. You feel tears welling in your eyes again. The dish you set in the drying rack nearly falls, your wet fingers clumsy.

“Did he suffer?”

The humming stops. “What?”

“Francis. When you took him over. Was it quick, at least?”

“Yes.” He could be lying, of course. But why would the alien care about your own comfort?

You pull the drainer from the sink and the water level begins descending, the last of it suctioned inside with a loud squelching noise. He’s still holding you. His breath warm by your cheek.

You can see nothing through the window above the sink. You stare at that void, blinking away the tears.

***

You’d forgotten about the bloodstains on Francis’ work shirt.

You’ve just begun lathering the fabric with soap in the bathroom sink upstairs when you notice the incriminating flecks.

Hydrogen peroxide will remove them. Erase those traces of the milkman’s lifeforce that had spattered upon his surrender.

It makes you want to weep again.

Once your chores are completed you take your own bath.

You don’t linger. You’re thinking of the doppelgänger resting in the chair in the corner of your bedroom. Trying to figure out where he’ll spend the night. The living room couch, maybe.

The mirrored medicine cabinet is clouded when you emerge. You swipe at it ineffectually with your towel, still damp from your body. The one the creature had used lying in a pile on the floor by the tub. You toss it into the hamper before dragging a comb through your hair and brushing your teeth. Hastily sliding into a sleeveless nightgown. Tiny lilacs printed on the fabric. You have them growing in the side yard, the perfumed scent when they’re in bloom wafting over you when you walk by. You touch the purple satin bow at the scooped neckline. A delicate little detail.

Those dark eyes watching you as you begin to strip the bed. He moves to assist you in stretching a fresh fitted sheet over the mattress. You can hear the drip of the water from Francis’ clothes hung to dry over the tub in the next room.

He sits on the side of the bed while you rub moisturizing lotion into your elbows, over your hands and arms. Legs once you’re seated on the opposite side. He’s moved so that he’s propped upright against the carved headboard, lower limbs stretching out along the length of the bed. Inviting himself in. Maybe it was better this way. At least you could keep an eye on him. Not worrying and wondering what he was doing downstairs all evening.

You switch off the lamp on the nightstand and lie down. Hear him scoot lower until he’s resting next to you. There’s just a top sheet at the foot of the bed. It’s really too warm for more than that. Through the cracked bedroom window you can hear the crickets chirping near the foundation outside. You turn away from him, reclining on your side, facing the wall. Willing your eyes to shut, to get some rest.

Succeeding.

You awaken and it’s still dark in the room. There is a hand on your bare shoulder, stroking circles along your deltoid muscle, grazing the path where your neck meets your shoulder, dipping into the hollow above your collarbone.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, and you hold your breath. Wondering again over how fast your body reacts to his touch, to his voice, to everything. “What are you doing to me?” As if you are the one caressing him in the middle of the night and not the other way around. “What is this feeling…this ache…”

You turn onto your back. He reaches blindly for your face. Following the angle of your jaw. His thumb seats in the dip in the edge below your bottom lip and he tugs gently, your mouth opening. His mouth finds yours. Tongue slithering between. You whimper. Your fingers seed in his hair. Still slightly damp. Refusing to dry in this humidity. He reaches for the hem of your nightgown, sliding the cotton material upward. Immediately at your panties, eagerly working inside. A heavy sigh of satisfaction from him. You gasp, your legs falling open. So wet already. Your body not caring if this isn’t really the man you love. It wants this. It craves this forbidden touch.

He’s so, so good at the touching. Retaining everything you’d showed him previously. Expertly manipulating your clit. Thrusting inside of you. You moan into his mouth. The side of his throat. You lap at that skin. Rough now. The first pricks of new growth of facial hair coarse against you.

“My sweet girl. Mine. You’re mine.” You do not protest. Your hips are lifting, grinding you against his fingers. It doesn’t take long to find your release. Your nails rake his back. The praise spills from his lips. The claims that you belong to him continue. His possession. His. To do with as he wishes. “Touch me, love. I need you.”

You find his cock leaking against the tight fitting underwear. You shove at the elastic top, releasing it partially from its confines. Stroking. He shifts positions, resting on one forearm. Fucking into the tight ring of your fingers. “Francis.” He’s not him, he never will be, but it’s so easy to pretend when it’s like this. In the dark and the heat of the summer weather, from the exchange between your bodies.

“I want to be inside of you. I want…I want…”

His breath shudders and his hips stutter as his orgasm rocks through him. Spilling hot seed over your fingers. The mattress dipping and creaking as he drops his full weight down onto it. You slip out of bed, padding barefoot into the hallway to retrieve a wash cloth. Washing your hands at the sink in the bathroom before bringing the dampened material back to the imposter in your bed, dragging it over his skin until you’re satisfied he’s clean.

You leave the soiled cloth on the nightstand, lying back down with your back to him again. He pulls you against him. The curves of your bodies fit together like spoons resting stacked in a silverware drawer. Your hands rest on the forearms curled around your torso. Feeling the threads of his body hair. He breathes your name into your neck and you shiver. There are still so many hours before dawn.

***

The week of your suspension passes quickly.

Francis’ doppel has already moved back into the apartments. Calls made. To the milkman’s employer. To the DDD director. He says he seemed placated, but you know better. They’ve been alerted. They’re going to be watching him closely. Both of you.

You like having him visit your home far more than you should.

It’s beginning to feel comfortable. A routine developing. He helps you sand and repaint the front porch once the weather is no longer humid. Tending to the garden. Mending the fence bordering the side yard. Replacing the broken bracket for one of the pantry shelves. Tightening the gasket under the kitchen sink when you hear water dripping during dinner one evening. There are endless repairs when one owns a home. Especially one of this age. It’s strange to see the imposter working so diligently to maintain it.

Stranger still how much you enjoy him in your bed.

There are many kisses and touches. Moments of taking each apart with hands and mouths. You learn each other’s bodies. You know he wants even more of you. You want it, too. But you’re reluctant. For so many reasons. Fearing an accidental pregnancy not the least of them.

The guilt of betraying the real Francis that still haunts you.

***

Your replacement as doorman had not been very tidy.

The desk is cluttered with papers, confiscated entry requests and identification cards. Pens no longer in their cup beside the phone. The day’s listing taped sloppily to the wall beside the window so it hangs at an angle.

You spend some time rearranging things. Restoring order. Internally, you’re trying to get yourself back into the right frame of mind. You have a duty to protect the residents. The replicants are not welcome. Never to be trusted. Francis’ copy is the only exception.

You shouldn’t be making it.

He’s there at your window later that day. Looking tired. Thrusting his ID and paperwork through the narrow slot at the base of the glass. Merely for show, of course. There is a security camera inside the office now. That video feed being constantly monitored by a DDD member. You’ve already warned him about it.

There’s an extra piece of paper beneath the entry request form. A small scrap with a torn edge. You tuck it into your palm quickly before reviewing his documents, then handing them back with a smile before pressing the door to allow him to enter.

You make a show of shifting some papers, your back to the camera as you quickly unfold the secret message. An invitation to come to his apartment once your shift is over. It wasn’t wise to draw attention to him. But you find yourself unable to resist the offer. You see the pilot that lives near Francis leaning in the open doorway of his residence as you exit the elevator after your workday ends, smoking a cigarette.

“Mr. Rudboys,” you greet him, nodding. “I’m just dropping off some paperwork for Mr. Mosses.”

He grunts, a smirk twitching his thin lips. “Sure you are, doll.”

Your spine stiffens in embarrassment, your neck warm beneath your shirt collar as you knock on the apartment door.

Your lover opens it and you hastily bid farewell to his neighbor before you enter, closing the door behind you with a little sigh of relief. “I think he might suspect—” You don’t get a chance to finish as his mouth covers yours. “Francis,” you gasp.

“I’ve missed you,” he says, planting kisses along your throat, unbuttoning the top of your blouse and seating his lips in the hollow there. “This tedious work routine is unbearable.”

“I did warn you. You have to earn a living. Pay bills. I still don’t understand why you wanted this.”

“It’s not the mundane work ethic you devote yourselves to that we’re interested in, I assure you.” He nibbles your ear.

“So why do it, then?”

He sighs, his affectionate gestures ceasing. “Do you really want to talk about this right now? I had envisioned a rather different evening for us. I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

“I found something I know you’ll like. Come here.” He leads you into the living room. There’s a tan object resting on the coffee table. The length is too short to be a suitcase, the height making you realize what it is a heartbeat before he lifts the lid. A portable record player. Beside it, a shallow stack of vinyl albums. “Saw it in a shop window on my route downtown. I’ve no idea if you like those artists, but…”

“Francis.” You cover your mouth with your hand. You can hardly believe it. Such a thoughtful gesture. From the intruder or some sentiment of the man he’d taken over. You don’t know which is which. You never have.

“Try it out,” he invites.

You already know which record you’re going to play. At the very top of the pile you see Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong’s collaboration. You slide it from the sleeve and place it on the turntable. Setting the needle down gently on the ebony disc, you grin when it starts to play.

“Turn the volume up. It’s only fair, considering.” He nods towards the direction of the apartment where Mia Stone and her fiancé reside, a mischievous smirk on his features.

You comply, still uncomfortable with making it too loud. “Dance with me?” You’re not certain if he knows how. But the memory is there for him, plucked from the depths at this hour of need. His hands rest on your waist. You twine your arms behind his neck.

Stars shining bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you

Birds singin' in the sycamore trees

Dream a little dream of me

He turns, lifting you easily. You smile again, allowing him to pull one of your hands free to clasp beside you as you rest the other one on his shoulder, swaying gently as your bodies move in a tight circle.

Say nighty-night and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me

While I'm alone and blue as can be

Dream a little dream of me

The doppel leans suddenly and you gasp, but his hand is strong against your lower spine, the other holding your hand tightly. The throaty male singer’s voice begins the next verse as you’re lifted upright again.

Stars fading but I linger on dear

Still craving your kiss

Now I'm longin' to linger till dawn dear

Just saying this

“I thought you didn’t like music,” you murmur against his ear, lifting slightly on your toes.

“It’s growing on me.” You draw back to find him smiling. Francis’ smile. Your heart lurching in your chest again as the artists’ voices join together.

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you

Leave the worries behind you

But in your dreams, whatever may be

You've gotta make me a promise, promise to me

You'll dream, dream a little dream of me

The song ends. His hands cup your face. “Sweetheart.” His mouth hungry on yours. “Come to bed with me, love.”

You nod, following him to the bedroom. Undressing each other. Practiced at this now, clothing quickly shed. Not stopping to move the comforter, pressing your naked body down on top of it.

“I want to be inside of you.” He says this often, and it frightens you as much as it thrills you.

“Francis…”

“Let me in, love, please. My special, sweet girl…” His hand wedges between your thighs. Never once has he forced you. Never once have you denied him. You open your legs and he straightens, kneeling between that v shaped space. Running his erection along your pink flesh, parting your nether lips, spreading the slick from your core through them. Massaging your hooded button. Pausing outside your entrance. Waiting for your permission.

“Please,” he says, and it’s the first time you’ve heard him say the word.

“Okay.”

Pressure as the fattened dome violates your canal. You gasp and his hands instantly reach to soothe you, caressing your thigh as he thrusts inside gradually. He leans his weight forward in small increments, bringing your legs up as he goes. Pressing deeper inside of you. Still more than you’re used to. There’s a burn accompanying the stretch as his prick fills your pussy. A kind of raw ache when he is fully sheathed, bumping against the edge of your cervix. Lifting his hips, the shaft sliding back. Thrust in again. A slow rhythm that you know belies what he really wants. His arms tremor with the tension on either side of you. Your knees hug his ribs. He kisses you and you rock against him. The movements become easier. A wet sound every time he bottoms out, his cock fully buried, the base of his groin tapping your own.

“So perfect, love. So tight around me.” He’s already perspiring. He hadn’t opened the window. The air in the room is stale and warm. You taste the salt of his leaking sweat when he kisses you.

“Francis. You feel so good…” The discomfort has subsided. Now, every motion brings nothing but pleasure. Your nails dig into his shoulders. The warning your mind attempts to deliver is ignored. You want this. You want him. You’ll worry about the consequences later.

He moans loudly. “They’ll hear you next door,” you caution.

“I don’t give a fuck. You’re mine,” he growls, nipping at your throat. “I want to mark you again. Somewhere everyone will see.” Sucking kisses near your collarbone. Moving back to your neck.

“Oh, Francis, don’t.” You know how difficult it is to conceal a hickey. You can’t allow it. Imagining greeting the residents with a bloom of raspberry on your throat after the fragile vessels beneath had burst. It was too much.

“A different kind of mark, then. Like the one I made before. Somewhere they won’t see.” There is still an ache to the healing wound he’d previously left. The sutures have been removed, the edges knitting together nicely. “I like being able to feel you when you’re not with me.” He thrusts back inside you. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. You don’t have to be afraid of me.” His pelvis jerks faster, his passion building once more. A hand snakes between your bodies, thumb stroking your clit.

“Oh…” Your hips roll up, making that finger collide more firmly. The familiar sensation of release building inside of you. The coil tightening. “Francis…”

“Cum for me, love. Want to feel you around me.”

Your lower spine is on fire. You can’t hold back any longer. You climax, the walls of your canal spasming around him as the pleasure wracks through your body. Trying to milk your partner’s release. It’s working. You recognize the tell tale shudder. The way his breathing becomes ragged. “Please let me,” he says again, his voice full of need.

“Yes.”

A sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh escapes him. His mouth at the place where your neck and shoulder meet. An instant of heat and needle sharp pain. Something piercing you. Not Francis’ teeth, but belonging to the thing inside of him. The hurt vanishes, replaced by another sensation. You’re warm again. Your body ready for another release. The wave of a second orgasm dragging the doppel through his own. You feel the wet heat of his ejaculate filling you deep inside.

The damp skin you’re clutching ripples. That hazy shimmer visible when he draws back slightly to regard your features, still buried in your womb. You haven’t seen this struggle for many days now. Nearly forgetting its existence. Allowing yourself to be deluded.

Now reminded as the imposter fights for control. The hand that had been draped loosely against your throat tightens slightly, a sharp prick of claws digging into that soft skin, nearly enough to invade that barrier. Your eyes widen in alarm. “Francis,” you manage to choke out.

He abruptly releases you. Looking at his hand as if it’s foreign to him. The movement beneath his flesh stops, the halo fading. He is whole again.

“I’m sorry. I was overwhelmed, I…” His voice trails off. You struggle to move and he withdraws. You feel his cum dripping out of you, staining the blanket beneath you. “Sweetheart.” Worry in his eyes. Touching your cheek. Your force yourself not to flinch. Not to think about the unnatural seed he’s just filled you with. What that union could possibly result in.

The bite he’s left tingles. You reach for it absently, the flesh warm beneath your fingers. It’s slightly raised and firm. Like getting an insect bite, your body reacting to the venom injected.

“It will go away. I didn’t…it’s not deep.” His fingers nudging yours, feeling the injury. “Sweetheart. You’re so quiet. Talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling. What you’re thinking.”

“I don’t know.” There are so many of each, all competing to be heard and felt. “I think…I think I’d better go home now.”

“Stay,” he pleads. This sudden begging of his, you’re not sure what to make of it. “Even if not for the night, just stay with me.”

You shake your head. “I should go. It’s well past curfew.”

“I don’t care about your stupid government’s rules,” he snaps impatiently.

“I do. I have to live by them.” You move to sit on the side of the mattress, his hand reaching for you, settling on your scarred forearm.

“I thought about you all day. All I wanted was this. To be with you.”

“Francis. I can’t stay. Truly. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You bend to retrieve the nearest article of clothing you can reach.

“You’re upset with me.”

“I’m scared, Francis.”

“Of me?”

“Yes. No. Not just you. Everything. You guide his hand to your abdomen. “What will you do if there’s a baby?”

“Is that what you’re so concerned about?“ He sighs heavily, looking relieved. “I’ll protect it. Just like I’ll protect you.”

“They would never let us keep it. Not your species. Not the organization. The DDD would dispose of it. Your race…you wanted it for an experiment. You told me that.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

“You know what.”

You swallow thickly. “This is so dangerous. And you act like it’s not. They’ll kill us, Francis.”

He shakes his head firmly. “No. I won’t let that happen. Did you notice there were no doppels today?”

“I did. It’s unusual, but it does happen on occasion.”

“That’s because of me. Because they recognize this.” He caresses your marked arm. “No one would ever dare harm you.” His fingers now on the new puncture he’d created.

“Even if that’s true, it won’t stop the DDD.”

The imposter cups your cheek. “You’ve done something to me. Not something visually apparent. Something inside. I have to be with you.” He kisses you, the intially chaste gesture deepening and your hand relaxes, dropping the garment you’d retrieved back to the carpet. “Stay with me. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

You can’t refuse.

[ynscrazylife]

THE BAT IN THE SHADOWS 🦇🕸️

— CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Bruce Wayne is the happiest he’s ever been in a while. He has a beautiful wife, amazing children, and is stopping crime left and right as Batman. All that shatters when you, his wife, mysteriously disappears.

Pairings: Bruce Wayne x Wife!Reader, Batfamily x Batman!Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Having to wait until morning to pull the security cam footage from nearby stores was hell. In the meantime, Bruce filled out a missing persons report (and nearly broke down whilst doing it). The worst part of it all was having to come home, alone, and face his family.

His kids and Alfred were exactly where he left them, all in the living room.

“Where’s Mom?” Dick was the first to ask, arms crossed. Neither he nor his brothers could hide the worry flickering across his face. Not even Alfred, who was usually so composed.

“I believe,” Bruce began, wanting to be strong for them. The image of your smiling face flashed in his mind and he slammed his hand against the nearby wall to steady himself. Get it together, he told himself. The weight of your shattered phone in his pocket felt like tons of bricks. “She’s been taken.”

He hated that that was all he could say on it. That was all he knew. He hated that he had to say it at all.

Five rounds of “What?!” echoed around the room. Bruce forced himself to look at Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. At their pain. Their shock.

“I only found her phone, broken. But we will bring her home,” Bruce said, knowing that there was no keeping his children out of this investigation. “I will take the lead. I’m going to go downstairs and start working. Anyone is free to join me, but I’d also suggest trying to sleep. If you can.”

He started towards the stairs. Then, half-way there, he stopped and turned around, opening up his arms. It took a second, but the boys came to him, and Bruce tucked them in his arms with a strong, tight hug. Alfred watched for a moment, then walked around and put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

“We will find her,” Bruce vowed.

And, he thought, if you were harmed in anyway, if a single hair was out of place, he’d destroy whoever had enough nerve to do this.

//

Standing by Commissioner Gordon’s side, Bruce peered over the employee sitting at his desk, who was starting up the footage on his computer. They found the closest store to the spot where your phone was found and as soon as the sign switched from closed to open, they walked in.

“Here you go,” the employee murmured, pressing play.

The footage was grainy and dark but with narrowed eyes, Bruce was determined to take in all that he could. As soon as you walked into frame, Bruce couldn’t help but tense up, nervous about what they were going to see.

Your pace started slowing as you took out your phone. Then, a jolt of electricity — where it was coming from was off-screen — hit your in the back. Bruce fixed his jaw, trying not to lash out or yell or even cry as he saw you fall. The thought of you, limp on the hard, dirty sidewalk . . .

Then, two figures came into frame, lean builds and wearing all black. Bruce watched how one stomped on your phone screen and he took a breath. They were saying something to each other, but the footage didn’t have audio. It was impossible to make out. He curled his fingers into a fist when they each took one of your arms, starting to drag you away. They didn’t seem to care at all that your head was bouncing off the ground and Bruce wanted to smash the screen.

He’d make them fucking pay, that was for sure.

Gordon did the talking, thanking the employee and whatnot. Bruce was in a daze, the footage playing over and over again in his head. He hadn’t even realized that Gordon wrapped up the conversation until he was pulled outside. They went a few stores down, trying to find more security camera footage of where they took you.

When they did, Gordon and Bruce watched as the kidnappers haphazardly tossed you into the car. As if you were nothing. As if you weren’t the most precious thing in Bruce’s life. He made fists again. They drove away and the one good thing was that the footage captured the license plate.

Gordon drove them to the police station and Bruce practically forced him to speed. A goddamn license plate, that was their only clue. Bruce’s only hope. He was pacing back and forth while the police actually ran the plate, never staying still for even a millisecond.

Finally, Gordon emerged. “They must’ve stolen the car. We’ll start sending patrol units out, contact other local departments . . . We will find this car. We’ll find them,” he said confidently.

//

While patrol units drove all around the city and beyond, Bruce did the same in his Batmobile. He spent every minute of every hour on the road, only returning for food and a couple hours of sleep after numerous calls from Alfred. It was the second time when he came home that he saw how much this was affecting his children. A wave of guilt hit, he knew that he hadn’t been paying as much attention to them as he should’ve.

You would’ve told Bruce to leave it to your fellow detectives, who were hellbent on getting you home. You would’ve told Bruce that he didn’t have to be Batman. He had to be home. God, you were so good, it sometimes hurt.

Bruce sat with his four boys on the couch, his arms wrapped around them. He updated them on the case, told them everything he knew. Of course, they asked to join him on patrol, but Bruce told them there was no need. He was going to take a few days off to spend with them.

It was after those few days that Bruce received a call from Gordon. They were in the middle of a somber dinner when his phone rang and the vigilante sprang up from his seat, nearly knocking his chair over. Everyone paused their eating.

“Gordon?” Bruce asked. The last few times, Gordon had nothing big to tell him, but Bruce answered his phone the same way every time.

“We got the car. It’s abandoned, but they drove out of the city. Parked near the woods.”

Dick, Tim, Jason, and Damian all wanted to go search with their father, but Alfred assured Bruce that he’d have them finish their dinners. Bruce gave each one of them a kiss on the head and promised to be home at a reasonable hour (which Alfred would hold him to, bless the man) before he rushed off.

It took a little while to get to the coordinates that Gordon sent, but when he did, he found detectives and cops and even civilian-organized search parties. It warmed Bruce’s heart, how much the city adored you. They knew you as Mrs Wayne, the kind and brave detective.

He joined the search as Batman, looking high and low. He got deep into the woods when finally, he found something. A group of costumed people all looking around, some confused, some awed. Bruce could tell they didn’t belong.

“Identify yourself,” he growled, coming out of the shadows and approaching them.

They all turned to him suddenly. No one moved or said anything for a second, until a redheaded woman came forward. She looked to be around your age, maybe a couple years older.

“This is probably going to come as a shock, but please, hear me out,” the woman began.

“I don’t ‘hear’ people out. Identify yourself, now,” Bruce demanded, in no mood for games.

The woman sighed softly. “Fine. You can call me te Black Widow. Back home, I — we — are known as the Avengers. We’re looking for someone named Y/N,” she told him.

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 1

[chap two] | [all chapters here]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: Was I the only one who turned 18 a month into their senior year and then proceeded to spiral and become The Worst version of themself possible?? Well, this fic is semi-inspired by that shitty part of my life lmao. Reader figure skates though. I can’t figure skate, hurts my feet lol. I never expected to write a fake dating story, but Eddie Munson has had me bewitched for nearly 2 years now, so here we go.

(if you'd like to be added to a tag list, pls let me know!)

wc: 3.9k

Chapter One

The idea came to you during a student council meeting as the class president was droning on about the ‘85 homecoming preparations: you needed to do something crazy, something completely and utterly out of character.

Maybe it was because of your ex breaking up with you just weeks before school started. Maybe it was that senior year itch. Maybe it was the realization that you were turning 18 next week. Hell, maybe you just woke up that morning with a strong sense that the things in your life were no longer satisfying you.

Whatever the cause, since the start of your senior year, you’ve just felt so off.

Your ex, Duncan, breaking up with you right before school started was a low blow, and an absolutely shitty feeling - you didn’t date much, but when you did, it was never the guy that ended things. It wasn’t shitty because you were in love and oh so heartbreak, it wasn’t shitty because you saw a future with him. It was shitty because of how goddamn embarrassing it was.

To your peers, you were a couple that made sense, and in fact people had been urging you to go out for a while. And, obviously, you had grown to like him, considering that you were in a relationship for six months - you never would have put up with him for that long if you didn’t actually like him. But the fact that he broke up with you, and not the other way around, left a sour, spiteful taste in your mouth.

So, perhaps it was that break-up that made you feel different this entire month. Or maybe it was your impending 18th birthday, which made you realize just how close you were to legal adulthood. Whatever the cause, every single aspect of your life up to this point suddenly came under your deep scrutiny. You just weren’t… happy?

That made it sound bad, but what were you enjoying right now? What got you excited every day? As you sat in the student council meeting, zoning out since the very start, you came to think that maybe you had nothing going on right now that you genuinely wanted in your life.

Hell, you weren’t even on the student council because you enjoyed it, Janet just dragged you into it back in your sophomore year. You figured she loved the sense of importance it gave her. She and everyone else in the council probably got off on how important they felt, the dictators of Hawkins High School.

You always ran in this crowd, and before you never questioned it. The popular kids, the rich kids, the successful kids. You don’t remember ever choosing these friends and acquaintances - if anything, it seemed that these peers were all a constant, as if they’d always been there from the very start. You figured it was the natural state of the world - as the daughter of one of the richest men in town, you were predestined to end up here. Not here as in the student council, surrounded by other spoiled rich kids debating the difference between turquoise and cyan. But here in an even broader sense - in a finely curated life, in all the “right” circles, on the path to either greatness or becoming the trophy wife of greatness.

Up until now, you’d never questioned it. Yes, mom and dad, you were a popular kid whose free time was fully booked between college prep, figure skating, student council, dates with a cookie-cutter boyfriend, and everything else under the sun. Yes, mom and dad, you were doing everything they all told you too because it would look great on your college applications, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, because that’s how things have always been done.

It started to dawn on you maybe a week or so into the school year just how mundane you were - you never questioned your time spent skating or on extracurriculars, you never went against the order of things as dictated by only the most popular of your peers. That’s just what was done, what was always done. But after your ex dared to break up with you, you came to realize recently that maybe all of this wasn’t what you wanted - maybe it was time to start making some choices for yourself instead of worrying what your parents told you or what your peers thought or what to do to keep your boyfriend semi-happy.

So, you started to consider what exactly it was that you wanted. And that proved to be more challenging than you anticipated, which probably would have sounded extremely pathetic if you had said it to any of the people sitting next to you.

Did you like figure skating? Of course, it was your idea after all. What you didn’t like was the pressure from your mother to train and become an Olympian, a feat that was never your intention when you took up the sport at six years old. Besides, you told her, you were way past the age for trials, you’d never get in (or, at least, that’s what you told her, because how the hell would you know whether or not there was a cut off age).

Did you like your friends? You thought so - you’d known them virtually your entire life, so you never questioned your relationship with them. But proximity didn’t necessarily go hand-in-hand with likeability. Maybe some of them you actually liked, but the rest? No, they were just around because they always had been.

Did you like your relationship before Duncan broke up with you? No, probably not. Of course, your opinion of him and that entire relationship was soured now, but even at the time, you were probably just going through the motions, doing things that couples do without any real heart in it.

So… What did you want? What did you actually like?

It was jarring to realize that your entire life had been dictated and finely tuned for you from the moment you were born, that even the things you wanted had been molded into new shapes by your parents or your peers or your teachers.

Once you realized how little of your life was in your own hands, you couldn’t get it out of your head. You always saw yourself as someone who was in control, as someone who couldn’t be told shit. And yet, you came to realize that that was far from the truth. It was as if suddenly everything about your life was something you hated. You hated your classes, you hated your friends, you hated running in the same circle as your ex, you hated all your obligations. Through the first few weeks of senior year, all you felt was frustration, disinterest, and absolute boredom with everything around you. Something had to change. And during the bullshit student council meeting, you became determined to make it happen.

So, over the course of that boring as all hell meeting, you tried to figure out what you wanted, and how you were going to get it. You set a goal for yourself, silly but helpful considering the structure you were so accustomed to: you’d set your plan in motion on your birthday. New year, new you, right?

Once you gave yourself that deadline, you then had to think about what exactly you were trying to accomplish - yes, you wanted to make some major changes, you wanted to, in a way, become a new person, but how were you going to do that?

You settled on four key things to keep in mind:

You wanted to piss off your parents big time - your dad barely acknowledged your existence and your mom coddled you, so actually upsetting them would be a feat unto itself. You had to become so awful that even your mother would stop making excuses for you.

You needed to drop your friends - the more you thought about all the people you grew up alongside, the more you realized that you weren’t particularly interested  in relationships with any of them. Whether you made new friends or not wasn’t a priority, in fact you kind of liked the idea of just being left alone.

You had to figure out what you actually enjoyed - outside of skating, you had no idea what really interested you, what you would like to do with your life and your free time. You figured it was time to do some self reflection and focus on finding things that you’d actually enjoy.

And, most importantly, you had to get back at your ex. Yeah, it was stupid to be motivated by a boy, but nothing would make you happier than seeing him worked up and frustrated. Your focus wasn’t on trying to win him back or anything like that - you wanted to piss him off, to exact some kind of revenge for making you look like an idiot when he broke up with you at a party that all your friends had attended.

How you were going to accomplish these, however, was yet to be determined. But they were a damn good starting point, and they got you motivated to become an absolute nuisance to everyone around.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The Friday following the student council meeting, you decided to first experiment with a little something, satiate a mild curiosity. To anyone else, it was probably the most mundane thing in the world, but to a high schooler who thought graduation was life or death, doing anything out of the ordinary felt nail-biting.

You were going to sit at a new lunch table.

You had just two days left until your birthday, until you’d officially set your plan in motion, so you still had a little more time to come up with something. So far, you couldn’t think of shit. You were already someone who was blunt and commanding and mean, whose thoughts and feelings were always on your face, so people were used to you being bossy and a little miserable - you couldn’t start being meaner or blunter, you just knew that wouldn’t be enough. Maybe you could start skipping class, maybe you could start flaking on friends, but somehow none of that felt like enough, like it wouldn’t make a statement. You had to really make an impression, to really set yourself up for a total ruination of your social status, you just hadn’t figured out how.

But a new lunch table was as good a starting point as any, right?

You chose a table at the far end of the lunchroom; customarily your group of friends, acquaintances, and ex sat centrally, surrounded by the jocks on one side and the academics on the other. The new table you chose was only occupied by two other people, a dorky little couple who looked at you funny when you sat as far from them as possible. In turn, you gave them an icy cold glare, prompting them to look away quickly, like you were a Medusa who could turn them to stone.

Your stupid little lunchroom plan was a bust, though. Five minutes into your peaceful lunch, your two closest friends, Amelia and Janet found you, each looking perplexed and put-off by your seat of choice. They looked around before lowering into the seats around you, their expression full of something akin to disgust, as if sitting at a different table was that offensive.

“What are we doing over here?” Amelia asked judgmentally, eyeing the couple at the opposite end of the table. Across the lunchroom, a few people (including Duncan) from your usual lunch table looked at you funny, “It’s like we’re exiled or something.”

So dramatic, you thought while staring harshly at her.

“Change of scenery.” You answered plainly, stabbing at the food in front of you. Amelia hummed in acknowledgement, but still made it quite clear that she didn’t agree with the decision.

“What, does this have something to do with Duncan?” She jabbed, receiving another nasty look from you, “So, he’s a jerk? Get over it.”

You should’ve known this idea was too simple to work. Of course they’d just follow you like the lemmings that they were, just as unable to make their own decisions as you were. Yeah, you definitely needed to try something bigger to scare them off.

Briefly, you thought that you could maybe tell them, just say point blank, “Amelia, Janet, I hate being around you and this friendship is done.” But, again, you figured that wouldn’t be good enough, that they’d laugh at your mean sense of humor even if you reiterated yourself. In this crowd, being mean was never enough to make your point, because all of you were nasty, not only to each other but to virtually everyone you met.

And despite your well-known attitude problem, you still cared about Amelia and Janet, flaws and all. These were the girls that you’d known since you were five years old, of course you worried about their feelings at least a little bit - nearly 13 years of friendship would do that to anyone. Guess you had more of a heart than you gave yourself credit for.

You definitely needed a foolproof plan to get out of this friendship, this social circle, this popular bubble that you’d always been trapped in. The friendship had to end without you saying so. You had to push them out until they finally gave up on you. Make it seem like it was their idea, that would definitely work on them.

As you schemed, Amelia and Janet chatted around you. Various acquaintances stopped by the table, all with the same question: what the hell were you guys doing sitting all the way out here? Even Duncan was amongst those that asked, trying to ignore the way you glared daggers at him. Amelia and Janet gave various responses, all of which put blame on you as if this simple little decision meant their utter ruination.

As Duncan was preparing to walk back to your usual lunch table, a commotion rose out in the hallway, the echo of rapid footfall drifting in through the doors. Multiple heads turned to face the cafeteria doors with curiosity, some people peeked out into the hall to check what the yelling was about, scurrying back to their friends to report what they’d seen. You, Amelia, Janet, and Duncan all waited silently, sharing raised brows and curious looks.

Not even a minute later, Eddie freaking Munson came crashing into the lunchroom, a look of total glee on his face as he cackled, not even remotely fazed by all the eyes on him. As he tumbled through the cafeteria doors, you jumped a little at the burst of sound. Eddie’s disruption turned everyone’s heads now, the lunchroom silent in shock and loathing as the resident outcast ran between tables, heading for the set of doors at the opposite end of the room. Your gaze was locked on the shit disturber as he blew past your table, carelessly running into Duncan in the process, but even that collision didn’t slow him down. Duncan yelled at him, but Eddie was focused on one goal, and if this were a cartoon you definitely would have seen dust kick up behind him from how quickly he was moving.

Not too far behind was Coach Miller, a look of absolute rage marring his puffy red face as he pursued Eddie. It didn’t even seem to cross his mind that he was making a fool of himself in front of the entire student body - his only focus was stopping the offender of whatever shenanigans currently pissed him off.

Your gaze turned back to the excited Eddie, an undeniable curiosity rising in you - what the hell did he do to piss off Coach Miller this bad? Sure, the coach was always pretty damn temperamental, but you couldn’t recall ever seeing him look quite this upset before.

Eddie paused at the cafeteria doors to turn and pull a mocking face at the coach before darting from the room, as if nothing in the world could touch him and he was unstoppable.

As Coach Miller disappeared after Eddie and students returned to their usual conversations, albeit with an air of awkwardness, you stared at the cafeteria doors thoughtfully.

That’s when an idea began to form.

You needed to take a page out of Eddie Munson’s book. If anyone in this school knew how to be a thorn in everyone’s side, it was him. So, you spent the remainder of your lunch brainstorming, trying to figure out how to channel even a sliver of Eddie’s energy; you only chimed into the conversation when someone spoke to you directly.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

In the middle of fifth period, you still weren’t quite sure what your game plan was, but you at least had a vague starting point. While your history teacher rambled on about some significant European war that you couldn’t begin to care about, you tapped your pencil as you thought about Eddie Munson (a sentence that very nearly grossed you out).

You’ve known about him since your freshman year - at the time, he was a year ahead of you, but since then he’d been held back. People always sneered when talking about him, as if Eddie was the most offensive thing they’d ever encountered, as if he was some kind of plague. He went against all social norms you’d learned up to that point, he was contradictory to everything you’d ever been taught about social conduct and likeability - he wore ratty clothes, listened to scary music, acted out in the most theatrical ways possible, and never seemed to give a shit what anyone thought.

You had never spoken to Eddie personally. Through the years you’d had a few classes together, including your math class this year, so you’ve witnessed some of his antics. But really, you knew nothing about the guy. Just the things that everyone else told you, and those things were nothing good. Whether or not Eddie was as bad as people said didn’t matter to you. His reputation was shit, and in this instance that’s exactly what you needed.

So, how were you going to ruin your senior year with the help of Eddie Munson? Well, at the very least, maybe you first had to have a conversation with him. It would be pretty stupid to walk up to him and go “hey, Munson, I know everyone here hates you, how about we chat and you make them hate me, too!”

Maybe you needed to find a way to hang out with him? Pretend to be friends long enough that the rest of the student body begins to ostracize you? With a little amused huff, an even worse thought crossed you: maybe you needed to pretend you were interested in Eddie Munson for a while, that was sure to piss just about everyone off. Especially Duncan.

But then the idea gave you pause.

You could not pretend to flirt with, or even date, Eddie fucking Munson. No chance in hell that would work. No way he would go for it, and no way you’d be able to tolerate him long enough to convince anyone that you were even remotely into him.

But… maybe?

Shit, what a stupid idea.

Or maybe it was a brilliant one.

You mulled it over a few minutes longer - if you were going to, somehow, convince Eddie Munson to pretend to date you, you needed to offer him something in exchange, that was obvious. You needed to give him a good reason to help you out, or this plan was never going to work. Its chances of success already seemed slim to none.

You had one idea, though you weren’t entirely certain if he’d go for it.

Your Uncle Tom was a cop, had been with the force your entire life - and you’d bet he’s probably had at least one run-in with Eddie. Maybe you’d tell Eddie that you could get cops to leave him alone, to stop watching him wearily whenever they were around. You couldn’t promise him too much, of course, but you knew at the very least that you could get your uncle to leave him alone. Or you could even take the fall here and there for whatever trouble Eddie inevitably lands himself in - what cop was stupid enough to arrest the niece of a cop and the daughter of a man who owned half of Hawkins?

It wasn’t foolproof, and you knew there were flaws to be found, but it just might work.

So, with your mind made up, you rip a scrap of paper from your notebook and scribble out a quick message:

Let’s make a deal. Sunday. You pick the time and place. Locker #436

You’d hoped that Eddie would be smart enough to realize that you wanted him to write you back, to drop his own stupid note in your locker so you could meet up and tell him your stupid, crazy idea. God, this better work.

You swiftly raise your hand in the air, giving a small impatient wave when your teacher didn’t acknowledge you right away, instead trying to focus on his lecture.

He rolled his eyes when he spotted your hand in the air, pointing at you and saying in an annoyed monotone, “What’s so important that you’re interrupting?”

Without any hesitation, you state bluntly, “Lady troubles.”

The teacher looks shocked by how plainly you stated it. But because it was you that said it and not someone else, your peers didn’t dare laugh, although a couple boys seemed to choke in surprise or amusement.

“Go, go…” Your teacher waved you off before continuing his lecture, wanting to forget the small interaction entirely.

You exited the room and roamed the halls confidently. Eddie’s locker wasn’t hard to miss - he was one of the students that decorated the metal with crude permanent marker sketches, and the school was too cheap to care about replacing or painting over it. As you approached Eddie’s locker, you checked around to make sure no one spotted you; it wasn’t as if you were committing a crime, but you didn’t need anyone wondering what you were up to in case this plan didn’t work.

So, you slipped the note into his locker, returned to class, and waited impatiently for the final bell of the day to ring, hoping that Eddie would actually stop by his locker and not just leave school without ever seeing your note.

When the end of the day came, it took everything in your power not to rush back to your own locker - just in case, you didn’t want him spotting you there. Why all the secrecy, you sure as hell didn’t know, but you nonetheless continued it.

So, you waited, stopping into the bathroom to check your makeup, walking with Amelia and Janet as they stopped at their own lockers. As the three of you exited the building and walked into the parking lot, you pretended to remember something, telling them that you needed to run back inside. You said your quick goodbyes and went back to wandering the halls, finally opening up your own locker.

It was stupid that your heart leapt when you saw a crudely torn piece of paper resting on top of some of your belongings.

You opened it quickly, eagerly reading the metalhead’s response:

Picnic table behind the football field, 4.

God, what were you getting yourself into.

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo: Chapter Nine

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @vash-yuu @twstsandturns @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 @silkkorchid @the-ace-reader @pamv11 @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @hrhqueenfox @goseew @luxthestrange @juno-of-wonderland @who-mst @despairingy-obsessed @lanxianschoenheit @ceramic-raven @m0063576 @kimdourden @rammylog @sushiperson @starshiningsirius @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @the-monochrome-jester @owodi @girl-nahh-two @obeythehuman @berry-efoy @ivorette @the-broken-truth @losingmybrain @charmaine-everhart and @rocketstyx wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (I have removed the tags that weren’t working for me, apologies if yours was removed!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

—-------------------------------------------------------

You walked into the aquarium with a box of donuts, humming softly to yourself. As soon as you opened the door, Floyd shot up through the surface, grinning at you excitedly. He let out a series of clicks when you opened the donut box and showed off its contents to him.

You moved closer with a giggle and let him reach one of his webbed hands into the box and retrieve a donut. He stuffed nearly the entire thing into his mouth at once, his cheeks puffed out from the sheer amount of chocolate.

“Did you say thank you?” a voice asked. From behind Floyd, Jade swam over to the side, mismatched eyes narrowed.

“Thank you!” Floyd said through the mouthful of donut, a large grin spreading across his lips.

“Would you like a donut, Jade?” you asked.

“Yes, please,” Jade said smoothly, taking a donut from the box and taking a small bite, “Thank you.”

“Where’s Azul?” you asked, “He should have a donut too.”

“You are very kind,” Jade said, a simple smile gracing his lips, “If you aren’t careful, you’ll get taken advantage of.”

You blinked in surprise, “That’s… I’ll have to be careful then.” Jade was truly an intelligent halfling, to the point it scared you a little. “But I’d still like Azul to have a donut.”

“Azul?” Floyd asked, perking up. Before you could say anything, Floyd dove down and came back dragging a black tentacle to the surface.

You tried not to laugh at his eagerness to make you happy and instead scolded him, “You shouldn’t drag him.”

Floyd gave you a grin that was all teeth and you sighed, waving sheepishly at Azul as his head broke the surface, surly expression on his face.

“Sorry to bother you, Azul, I just wanted to see if you wanted a donut,” you admitted, holding out the donut box.

The white-haired male looked surprised, his eyebrows raising as you opened the box and displayed all of the donuts to him. He took a glazed donut and began to slip back into the water. Disappointed by such a short encounter, you found yourself saying, “Wait, Azul!”

Azul paused and gave you a curious look. Without thinking, you blurted out, “Can I hold your tentacle?”

His eyes bugged out and his mouth parted in shock, “P-pardon?”

“I just want to see what it feels like,” you admitted.

Hesitantly, one of Azul’s inky black tentacles lifted from the water and stretched out to you. You walked over to the edge and sat down, boots dangling over the water as you took his tentacle into your hands. A blue blush spread up Azul’s face as you inspected his appendage.

The tentacle was black on top and smooth, but the underside was light purple with suction cups. You trailed your fingers around one of the suction cups and smiled at the blushing octopus halfling.

“Alright,” you said, taking a look at the clock, “I really have to be moving on.”

Floyd let out a disappointed wail and you reached out and ruffled his teal hair. He let out a pleased clicking sound and leaned into your touch.

Jade watched on with a pleasant smile, but something about the look in his eyes as he watched you sent a chill down your spine. 

You stood up and waved goodbye to them all. As you walked out the door, you could hear Floyd clicking to Jade, as though he were arguing with him. 

For some reason, it made you uncomfortable, as though you knew you were the one being talked about. 

Shrugging off the sensation, you headed toward the reptile house. The sun was already going down as you walked down the pathway. A little girl waved at you and you waved back cheerfully before climbing through the employee door and into the snake exhibit.

“Hey, Jamil, hey Kalim!” you said cheerfully as the two snakes lifted their heads. Jamil rested on his stomach, lazily studying you, while Kalim slithered forward and wrapped his arms around you, saying “Yay! You’re back!”

Kalim released you with reluctance, telling you, “Jamil and I missed you. Jamil kept talking about you.”

You looked over at Jamil and found that he was purposefully avoiding eye contact. A smile spread across your face, “Well, I missed you both too. I brought donuts!”

“Yaaay!” Kalim yelled, flinging the box lid open and grabbing a chocolate donut. Jamil finally looked back over and you held out the box to him. He looked away again, refusing to acknowledge the treat.

“You don’t like donuts, Jamil?” you asked.

Jamil said something softly, but you couldn’t catch it. 

“Is there something I could bring you that you would like?” you asked.

Jamil looked back at you, surprised. Then, his eyes turned downwards and he said, “Curry.”

“Curry?!” Kalim said in disgust, “Yuck, why do you want that?”

Jamil turned his sharp gray glare on Kalim and said in a dangerous tone, “Because that’s my favorite food.”

Kalim looked at you with a pout. You patted him on the head and he began to eat his donut.

“I’ll try to bring you curry next time, Jamil,” you promised.

He nodded, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he looked back at you with an unusually soft expression. As though he couldn’t stand the attention Jamil was getting, Kalim grabbed your hand in his own and pulled you closer, pout intensified.

“What is it, Kalim?” you asked, but he didn’t seem to have a reason for pulling you closer. Jamil’s smile had faded into a frown at the display of affection.

“Well, I have two more places to stop by today,” you said, “So I should get going.”

Kalim’s fingers tightened around your hand. You pulled free and he let out a wail, “Don’t leave!”

“I’ll be back!”

“In a few days! It’s not fair! You barely spend any time with me!”

“I’m running behind,” you admitted, “I’m really sorry, Ka-”

“If you’re sorry, then stay!” he yelled, tears leaping to his eyes.

“I can’t!” you said sternly, prying his hand from yours, “I’ll be back soon.”

Kalim finally let go, tearfully shrinking back down into the snake part of his body. You felt a twinge of guilt, but you gave him a pat on the head before leaving the enclosure. Jamil watched with a smirk as Kalim burst into tears.

Your next stop was Idia, who you planned to try to really talk to today. You slipped inside his enclosure and walked to the far corner where the electric blue lizard was known to hide. 

Idia lifted his head as you approached, eyes widening when he saw the donut box.

“Are those donuts?” he asked.

You smiled and opened the box, watching as the blue-haired halfling took a donut, eyes alight with giddiness.

“I love junk food,” he admitted, “but they never give us any.”

“I have a bit of a sweet tooth too,” you said with a knowing smile. You took a donut for yourself and the two of you ate in silence.

“Do you play video games?” Idia asked.

“Yes, a few,” you replied, “Why?”

“I’ve always wanted to play video games,” Idia said, “They look fun.”

“Maybe I can sneak a nintendo DS down here or something,” you suggested.

“A what?” he asked.

“A handheld gaming system.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened, “You would do that for me?”

“Of course, Idia!” you said with a grin. He matched your smile with one of his own, his lips parting to reveal surprisingly sharp teeth. “What kind of games do you like?”

“I’ve never played before, so I wouldn’t know,” he said, gloominess returning.

“I’ll bring a little bit of everything I have,” you said, giving him a pat on the shoulder. Idia looked after you, eyes lidded as you began to leave.

“You’re always so quick to leave,” he said monotonously.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “It’s just that I have so many halflings to visit and only two hours.”

“I understand,” he said, turning away, “You should hurry.”

“Thanks,” you said, walking back to the exhibit door and leaving. The walkways were empty and you knew that you were cutting it very close.

Sure enough, it was pitch black outside, and you still had the panther and albino tiger exhibit to go.

You hurried to the faux forest and walked through the door, met once more with Silver and Sebek guarding it.

“Hey, you two, want donuts?”

Silver startled awake and, after a moment of confusion, gently took a donut from the box. Sebek, on the other hand, swelled with anger.

“A BRIBE?” he yelled, “You’re offering us a bribe?”

“A bribe?” you echoed in confusion, “No, I’m just offering you a donut. No strings attached.”

“Oh,” Sebek looked down into the box and, like an excited puppy, looked up at you with big eyes, silently asking for permission.

“Go ahead, take whichever one you like,” you said.

Sebek did so and shoved half of it in his mouth at once. Then, his eyes widened and he let out a soft noise of pleasure as he tasted it.

“Were you going to give one to Malleus and Lilia?” Silver asked.

“Yes,” you said.

Sebek looked horrified, “If I had known, I would have had Young Master choose first!”

“That’s okay,” you giggled, “I’m just glad you got your favorite.”

Sebek looked surprised by your comment and a soft blush spread across his cheeks as he cleared his throat and looked away. Silver offered you a rare smile, which you returned brightly.

“Malleus is on his way,” a voice said from above you. You looked up, almost unsurprised to find Lilia hanging upside down above you.

Sure enough, Malleus slid out from behind some trees not long after, horns glinting in the artificial lights. You held out the donut box to both Lilia and Malleus.

Malleus took a donut and studied it curiously, “What is this thing? A treat, perhaps?”

“Yes, a treat,” you smiled.

He looked down at you with a mysterious smile and took a bite, “Delicious. You humans are very talented with food.”

“I didn’t make them,” you admitted, “I just bought them.”

“Still, my point stands,” Malleus replied. His hand reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Lilia giggled from up in his tree, still holding the donut as he watched you and Malleus closely.

Embarrassed, you closed the donut box, “I’m sorry I can’t spend too much time with you today, but I’m running really late.”

“That’s okay,” Lilia said smoothly, “Thank you for visiting.”

The others piped up with their own ‘thank you’s. You gave a playful bow and then waved goodbye. Lilia waited until you had disappeared to turn to the others.

“I don’t care which one of us does it, but I would love to hear the pitter patter of little feet again.” Then, with a devious smile, he turned around and disappeared into the woods, Malleus following close behind.

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ best christmas ever ] q. hughes

day eight of malia’s christmas fic marathon

pairing : Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) gives fiancé Quinn what could be considered the best Christmas present he’s ever gotten

warning(s) : pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage

author’s note : i think this could be considered a blurb w how short it is tbh but here’s this cute lil thing :)

༺═──────────────═༻

Her hands shake as Quinn unwraps the present that is going to change his entire life. Keeping this a secret for nearly two weeks has been killing her so the fact that her fiancé is seconds away from finding out is exciting and terrifying at the same time.

It's the last present that is being unwrapped this morning while it's just the two of them in their Vancouver apartment. (Y/N) made sure it was the last present unwrapped by taking it out of the closet after all the gifts under the tree from friends and family were opened.

Quinn tosses the ripped up wrapping paper into the trash bag on the ground between them before he opens the box.

Inside is a little Canucks jersey with Quinn's number and 'C'. Quinn is clearly very confused by the tiny jersey so she says, "Turn it around, Quinn."

Laughter is evident in her voice but she doesn't know if it's because of Quinn's confusion or because she's nervous.

She watches his eyes widen when he sees the back of the jersey. In place of Hughes on the back of the jersey is the word "daddy". Quinn looks over at (Y/N) with those wide eyes. "You better not be lying to me, (Y/N)," he says so seriously.

"Eight weeks," she tells him as she rests a hand on the very tiny bump that is under the large t-shirt she's wearing. "I found out three weeks ago and went to make sure everything was okay two weeks ago. When I was told that everything with this baby was perfect, I got the jersey made."

After they lost their last little one over the summer very early on, she didn't want to get Quinn's hopes up again so she went and got every single test done that she could before she told him. The last thing she wanted was to tell him then lose another baby. It nearly broke her in June, and almost broke them.

She couldn't do that again. Not this time.

"You kept this from me for three weeks?" Quinn asks. His voice is soft so he isn't mad. She stays quiet and nods. "Is everything okay?"

(Y/N) slowly nods, still hesitant. "Baby H is growing and developing at the rate they're supposed to be this time," she assures him. "I'm healthy. Baby is healthy. I just needed to be sure before I told you this time. I know how much you want to be a dad and I didn't want to get your hopes up then my body let you down for the second time."

Tears that she didn't know formed in her eyes spill onto her cheeks. She does her best to wipe them away quickly, but he notices them.

Quinn puts the jersey back in the box and moves close to her. He pulls her into a tight hug and she buries her face into his shoulder.

"Your body just wasn't ready last time," Quinn softly tells her as he runs his fingers through her hair. "I love you. I'm so excited to be here with you for the rest of your pregnancy. You're already an amazing mom."

She lets out a silent sob into Quinn's shoulder before she pulls back. "You're not mad I didn't tell you when I found out?" she questions.

"Absolutely not," he assures her with a smile on his lips. She can see that he's genuine when he says that. "I'm happy to know now. I can't wait to go to every appointment with you now. I can't wait to see our baby when you have an ultrasound done. I can't wait to tell all our friends and family and my teammates. I can't wait to meet Baby H. (Y/N), I'm so excited."

His happiness quickly erases any anxiety she felt before he opened that box. She can tell how excited he is about the next chapter in their lives. "Glad I didn't ruin your Christmas by telling you," she jokes.

"Are you kidding?" Quinn says. "This is probably the best Christmas ever. We're going to have a baby. This is the best present I think I have ever gotten on Christmas. Knowing we're going to start the family we have always wanted together is the best present."

A smile finally forms on (Y/N)'s lips. "We're going to have a baby," she softly echoes. Quinn nods and matches her smile.

She launches herself at him, finally sharing the happiness that Quinn is feeling. He falls onto his back onto the carpeted floor and catches her in his arms. He laughs and wraps his arms around her waist. He stares up at his fiancée. "We get to finally be parents," he tells her. "Our rainbow baby."

"Our rainbow baby."

༺═──────────────═༻

MAIN MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

wanna be added to the taglist ? fill out this form !

taglist : @dancerbailey3 @dasiysthings @axaslee

[i-turned-into-the-stone]

[Commissioned]

Career's Dead End: Ex-NMIXX Jinni × M!OC

Tags: Rape, Hardcore, Belly Bulging, Face Fuck, Cum In Mouth, Cum Swallowing, Clit Torture (just the usual pinching, pulling, etc), Pussy Slapping, Squirting, Anal, Overstimulation, Breath Play

Character(s): Ex-NMIXX Jinni × Male OC

Word Count: 7,653

A/N: Since the plot takes place before Jini became a soloist, I will use Jinni throughout the story and her birth name, Choi Yunjin in some of the dialogue. I hope you guys don't mind a long plotless chapter.

Jinni had always thought being an idol would be a fun gig. You know, basking in fame, meeting new people, and connecting with fans. She imagined herself becoming a household name, doing what she loved for a living. But, being an idol wasn't the glamorous ride she had envisioned.

It turned out to be a lot less exciting, and before she knew it, she was no longer part of NMIXX. Her career ended abruptly, leaving her feeling underwhelmed and detached. She went through the motions like a robot until the very end.

Even though Jinni's time as an idol was short-lived, her former group mates were like her friends. Saying goodbye to them after living together like a family was a heavy burden to bear. It was even more heartbreaking that she didn't get a chance to bid farewell to the other members before leaving the dorm.

Maybe NMIXX's busy schedule was intentionally designed by the CEO to keep them apart from her as if the company didn't want any lingering attachments to form. There wasn't much she could do about the situation, but she had one thing left to do before she left.

Her manager, Hanwol, had been a constant support throughout her idol career. Looking back, Jinni realized she hadn't seen him since the news of her departure from NMIXX broke out. So, here she was, taking a cab to his house, which was nearly an hour's journey from the dorm.

As the cab drove through the city, Jinni observed the surroundings—a residential area with several empty houses or ones still undergoing renovation. She wasn't entirely sure, so she checked the address again.

"This is the place, but..."

The cab came to a stop in front of a one-story house with a white gate. It appeared more well-constructed than the neighboring houses. Jinni paid the fare and got out, making sure to take the bag of fresh fruits she had bought along.

Jinni took a deep breath to steady herself and then pressed the doorbell. Silence filled the air. After a few moments, she pressed the button again, and she heard a crash that she assumed came from the front door.

Soon after, the gate rattled and slid open. Jinni paused, her eyes fixated on the taller man standing before her. His two-block hair was disheveled and damp, a half-empty beer can in his hand. His usual smile was absent, replaced by a hint of weariness.

"Jinni?" he said, his gaze scanning the area outside. Finding no one else, he let out a sigh. "What brings you here?"

"I-I just wanted to say goodbye before, well, leaving. I haven't seen you at the company, so I came here to see you, oppa. I wanted to thank you for taking care of me and guiding me during my time there..." Jinni's voice trailed off, a sad smile on her face as she handed him the bag of fruits.

Hanwol reluctantly took the paper bag from her hands, his gaze fixated on it with a blank expression. "Damn..." he cursed inwardly. Was this all he had left after being laid off from his job as a manager? That's what had him looking so disheveled, but of course, the former idol standing before him had no clue.

Sure, he received his salary, but he needed a solid reason if he wanted to apply elsewhere, and he hadn't gotten one at all. He was simply told to move on and good luck with his future shit. The can in his hand crumpled as frustration welled up inside him. No amount of beer could help him calm down anymore.

However, Jinni might hold the truth he desperately sought. She was no longer tied down as an idol, and no one could restrict her anymore. Plus, she was alone now. Hanwol's thoughts became clouded as he eyed her, his gaze lingering on her exposed stomach since the hem of her shirt was lifted and tied behind her back.

"Well, I guess I'll take my leave then. Didn't mean to bother you too much. Take care, Hanwol oppa," she said, her smile tinged with sadness as she turned around to leave.

Hanwol's gaze shifted outside, scanning the usual emptiness of the area. He watched her retreating figure, his eyes now fixated on Jinni's hips, snugly squeezed into those low-rise pants she wore, stirring up conflicting emotions within him.

"Jinni," Hanwol called out. The girl turned back, her eyes meeting his. "Wanna come inside and talk for a bit?" he offered, his smile masking the turmoil he felt inside. At that moment, relief washed over Jinni's face, and she nodded, taking a few steps back toward the gate.

Hanwol watched as Jinni walked further into his house, his body moving on autopilot as he threw the beer can at the corner of his front yard and locked the gate. He caught up to her and opened the front door, gesturing for her to enter. She slipped off her shoes and stepped inside, while Hanwol lingered for a moment to lock the door once again.

The inside of Hanwol's house was plain and neat, reflecting his minimalist taste. The living room was adorned with simple furniture, a comfortable couch, and a coffee table. Jinni took a seat on the couch, sinking into its soft cushions, while Hanwol headed to the kitchen to put the fruits away.

In the kitchen, Hanwol glanced at the sparsely stocked refrigerator. "Do you mind a beer? I haven't done any grocery shopping yet," he called out to Jinni.

Jinni smiled politely. "Thanks, oppa. Don't trouble yourself. I'm fine with whatever you have."

Hanwol rummaged through the fridge for a moment, then remembered the leftover milk. He grabbed the carton and decided to pour himself and her a glass. With the milk in hand, he joined Jinni in the living room, placing the drink on the table and taking a seat in an armchair across from her.

As they sat there, sipping their respective beverages, the atmosphere felt both tight and uncertain. The silence lingered for a while until Hanwol finally broke it, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

"So, Jinni, what really happened at the company? Why did they let me go without any proper explanation?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for the truth he had been desperately seeking.

Jinni's eyes widened at Hanwol's statement. "What? They fired you, oppa? I... I had no idea," she stammered, her grip tightening around her glass.

Hanwol let out a sigh, frustration evident on his face. He downed the milk in one gulp and slammed the empty glass onto the table.

"Doesn't really matter now. I just want to know how you messed up. Why did you leave the group, Jinni?" he asked, leaning forward, his gaze locked with hers.

The former idol bowed her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I have a reason I can't disclose, oppa. But I'll speak to the CEO on your behalf—"

Hanwol interrupted her, his voice laced with accusation. "So, you can't disclose the reason because it's true that you were caught with a guy at a hotel? Is that rumor actually true?”

"Hanwol oppa! You know me! I-I am not like that!" Jinni blurted out, her voice filled with hurt and disbelief. Jinni felt seriously let down by her former manager. Hanwol had always been the one to boost her spirits and believe in her talents, but right now, he seemed like a whole new person.

"Yeah, yeah... My bad..." Hanwol muttered, his eyes fixed on Jinni.

He wasn't wasted or anything, but he was feeling hot under the collar—frustrated and just not right. His mind couldn't help but wonder, secretly hoping that the rumors about Jinni were true, that she was some sort of wild girl behind everyone's back.

"Look, I'm sorry, Hanwol oppa. I didn't realize my issues were getting to you too. I'll still talk to the CEO about this mess," Jinni said, getting up from her seat and giving a little bow. "I'm leaving now. Take care, oppa."

Hanwol stayed silent, his anger simmering inside. He then stood up, his hand grabbing onto Jinni's arm. “Since you're already here, why don't we make it worth our while, Jinni-ya?" Hanwol offered, trying to sound casual but with a hint of malice.

Jinni turned around, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked up at the towering man. "What do you mean...?"

Hanwol shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe you can let me fuck you to make up for all the trouble you've caused?" His words lacked respect, to take advantage of the situation rather than any genuine care.

Jinni's shock was beyond words. She desperately wanted to believe that Hanwol was just messing around, but the grip on her arm grew tighter, making it impossible for her to break free.

"What…? Come on, oppa, you're drunk or something? You-You're hurting and me," she managed to say, attempting to twist her arm out of his grasp.

"No, I'm not drunk, just annoyed and a little horny.” Hanwol let out a chuckle. “Don't be so uptight. There's no need to maintain that squeaky-clean image anymore. You're not an idol now," he said, reaching for her soft stomach and rubbing it.

Jinni pushed his hand away, fighting harder to break free. "Oppa, please... Please let go of me. I know you're angry with me, but you can't do something like this," she calmly pleaded, attempting to reason with him.

"Do what? Unleash the wild side of Choi Yunjin?" Hanwol swiftly shifted their positions, harshly shoving Jinni onto the couch. "I'll give you a good fuck as a goodbye, Jinni-ya, don't you worry.”

Hanwol wasted no time in yanking his track pants down, revealing his semi-erect cock to Jinni without a hint of shame. Jinni's heart filled with fear and panic, but she managed to keep her cool. She quickly got up from her seat and darted around the table, but before she could escape, Hanwol grabbed hold of her hair and pulled her.

"Ack!" Jinni let out a pained yelp as she crashed back onto the couch.

"Seems like you enjoy playing hard to get, huh?" Hanwol taunted, mocking her while tugging her head towards the edge of the couch. He stepped out of his crumpled pants hanging around his ankles, and slipped his legs under her armpits, effectively locking her arms useless.

Jinni found herself stuck upside-down, her head trapped between Hanwol's legs, with his cock noticeably weighing on her chest. This position made her dizzy, but she continued to fight back, trying to free her arms from behind his knees, yet all her efforts were in vain.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! Ugh!" Jinni thrashed about, her panic evident.

"Don't ask dumb questions, Choi Yunjin. You're not that innocent. Just admit it," Hanwol asserted, gripping Jinni's thigh and maneuvering her lower body to align with her chest, pressing her butt against the cushioned backrest.

Jinni kicked her feet in the air, but Hanwol just held onto them, hugging them against his solid chest. He squeezed her ass through the fabric, getting all worked up by its softness as his junk on her breast reached its full glory.

"Yah!!! Stop! Please!!!" Jinni screamed her lungs out, trying to push herself away from between his legs by shoving against the edge of the couch with her palms.

Hanwol pushed himself down even more, trapping her tighter. He smacked her ass, making her flinch. "Can't you just stay put, you bitch?" he said, reaching for the zipper on her pants and unzipping it.

"Hell no!"

The ex-idol wriggled like crazy, but Hanwol had a grip on the waistband, wrenching her pants along her legs until they were stuck at her ankles, tying them together. He folded her calves to the back of the backrest and spread her knees wide, his eyes widening at the sight of her purple lace panties. His hands greedily massaged her inner thighs, ignoring Jinni's cries of resistance.

"Holy shit, you've got a fat pussy," Hanwol leered, pinching her squished cameltoe inside the panties.

Jinni tensed up and cursed at him, "Let me go, you disgusting creep!"

Hanwol scoffed and smacked her crotch with an open palm, causing her legs to close up in pain. He spread them apart again.

"Keep those legs wide open. I'm not done yet. Since you're so eager to scream, I'll give you a reason," he taunted. Without warning, he delivered another stinging slap to her sensitive area.

"Aah!" Jinni cried out in agony, clutching onto his legs for support.

Hanwol arranged her body on the couch so that only her head dangled over the edge. His balls intentionally pressed against her chin, while his rock-hard thick cock twitched whenever her breasts brushed against it.

"Why so quiet now?" he sneered, slapping her pussy once again. But this time, he didn't stop. He kept on repeatedly striking her burning flesh with force.

"It hurts! Fucking stop! Please!!!" Jinni twisted and turned in pain, but Hanwol kept her legs spread wide, keeping them in place.

"Come on! Admit it, you're just a cheap whore. The idol life doesn't suit your horny ass at all," he growled through gritted teeth, matching the rhythm of his hand pounding on her pussy. Jinni cried her heart out, her legs shaking from the intense pain inflicted on her most intimate sensitive area.

Just as Hanwol stopped, he ripped her panties in half and tossed the torn fabric aside. The scent of her pussy hit his nose as he got a full-on view of her naked snatch. He ran his thumb over her neatly trimmed pubes before reaching her clit.

Jinni's legs instantly clamped shut when she felt his touch on her sensitive spot. She let out a weak grunt, unable to lift her head anymore after enduring the relentless smacking on her pussy.

"I fucking told you not to close those legs, bitch," Hanwol reminded her, and another slap followed, leaving her already red and swollen pussy even redder.

"Oww!" Her body was in shock. She felt his finger slip inside her slick labia and slide along her slit. She knew exactly where he was heading, but she couldn't do a single thing to stop him.

Despite Hanwol's strong desire to fuck Jinni senseless right then and there, he knew she would fight back until the bitter end. So, he had to break her spirit first, and the plan was simple - make her own body betray her will. His finger found her entrance and slipped inside smoothly, all at once.

"Ahh!" Jinni's back arched involuntarily, her legs spreading wider as he moved his finger in and out. "Oh, God— S-Stop!"

"Quit pretending, Jinni-ya. Admit it, you love this," he stated, holding onto one of her thighs and adding another finger, fingering her with increasing speed.

"Aah! Fuck! Mm..." She bit her lip, suppressing a moan, feeling his palm smacking her pussy while his fingers explored her tight inner walls.

Hanwol slowed down but didn't stop completely, teasing her senses, making her crave more. He glanced at her flushed face, her chest heaving against his cock.

"You should be the one pleasuring me, you know, but look at you, enjoying yourself instead." Hanwol withdrew his fingers and flicked her clit sharply.

"Oww!" Jinni jerked in a mixture of pain and undeniable pleasure. She saw his hand rising. "N-No, don't— Argh!" A sharp slap instantly numbed her throbbing pussy.

Hanwol's two fingers slipped back into her pussy, now wetter and more fragrant from her growing arousal. Seeing that Jinni was weakened, he shifted to the side, freeing her arms and upper body from beneath him. He then folded her legs towards her chest, ensuring that the former idol had a clear view of how eagerly her pussy clenched around his fingers.

As he withdrew, his fingers glistened wet, some of her juice even dripping on her pubes. "Still refusing to admit that Choi Yunjin is a slut?" he taunted with a smirk, observing her flushed and sweaty face. Their physical exertions had left both of them covered in a sheen of sweat.

"I... I trusted you, Park Hanwol. I thought you were a good person but..." Jinni paused momentarily, "Ugh!" She twisted her body sideways, attempting to kick him off. Too bad he now had a firm grip on both of her legs. "Let me go!”

Hanwol reached down and wrapped his hand around her neck, giving it a squeeze. "Save your breath, Jinni-ya. Just quietly let me fuck you. Nobody gives a damn about us anyway. Not anymore.”

He tightened his grip, and Jinni's teary eyes shot daggers at him as she swung her arm, smacking his with all her might. Her face turned pale as she struggled to catch a breath, her mouth wide open.

He stood there, watching as her eyes rolled up, and her feeble attempts to hit him turned into weak tapping. Even the legs he held in his grasp barely put up a fight. Jinni was suffocating, and he knew it.

Not wanting her to pass out just yet, he released her legs and swiftly grabbed her waist, lifting her body up and tossing her onto the couch. Her head found support on the armrest, but it hardly mattered as she painfully gasped for air, coughing uncontrollably.

Hanwol wasted no time and positioned himself between Jinni's trembling legs, dipping his thick pre-drooling cockhead between her slick pussy lips. Still huffing and puffing, Jinni's hands flailed around aimlessly, trying to push him away.

"For fuck's sake! Just take my damn cock, you filthy slut!" Hanwol screamed into her face, his voice filled with rage, as he pinned her hands—one above her head and the other against the backrest—ensuring she had nowhere to escape.

"Yah, Park Hanwol... Haa... Don't you fucking dare! You bastard…”

Jinni's futile words were all she had left to fight against her former manager. However, they seemed to only provoke him further. He bent her body in a double, hoisting her legs up over her head and thrusting his crown against her defenseless little pussy.

Jinni let out a surprised "Eep" and wriggled violently, twisting and arching under the weight of Hanwol's forceful press. From her vantage point, she could see his cock slowly but surely stretching her tight cunt around its girth.

There was simply no way around it: she was doomed the moment Hanwol thrust forward hard, and Jinni's eyes widened as she saw all inches of his cock vanish into her, tearing her out and causing her belly to bulge beneath her belly button.

“Too big! Ahh! Shit— too deep… Fuck!!!” She gasped, barely managing to get the words out before Hanwol began clobberfucking her, pressing her down beneath him in a savage mating press.

He brutalized her with each powerful strike, causing her belly to swell at an insane speed. Her abdomen expanded with loud, squelching bloats and swells that outlined his cockhead inside her, leaving her gasping for breath and overwhelmed by the roughness of his smacking her soaking cunt.

The couch shook with each jab, but for Jinni, it felt like her whole world was being rocked at that moment. Her pussy was filled to the brim, a mix of pain and an unexplainable tingle shooting through her nerves, messing with her senses.

Hanwol locked eyes with Jinni, refusing to break the intense gaze. He kept thrusting his throbbing shaft into her, ramming it in and pulling back, perfectly in sync with the rhythm of his hips. His grunt of exertion reached Jinni's ears, making her shiver at the sound that solidified her lower position between them.

"I took good care of you..." he said, his breath ragged as he slowed down, relishing the tight squeeze of her canal. "So don't feel too bad for being such a good girl for me— Ugh!" he grunted in pure ecstasy.

Jinni narrowed her gaze, weakly looking at him. "I fucking hate you..."

The man slapped Jinni, leaving an immediate mark on her face. "Oh, I know you hate me, but you love this cock, you whore," he informed her.

She shook her head in denial and a hand closed around her neck. "Keuk," the sweaty girl gasped, her breath catching. His grip tightened even more. "Eughh!" Jinni groaned as Hanwol's fingers dug deeper into the flesh around her windpipe.

As his pulsing cock ripped into her, Jinni couldn't hold it and gurgle for mercy. Within moments of this harsh treatment, her body betrayed her, hitting her first mind-blowing orgasm of the night. She shrieked and writhed wild under relentless Hanwol.

Hanwol kept on holding onto her ankle above her head while another grip was on her bruised neck. Jinni expression was all messed up, teeth clenched tight as Hanwol gave her the fuck of a lifetime.

His hips barged down like a sledgehammer, slamming his balls on her entrance harder, causing her juice splatter everywhere. Her stomach bulged out even more, and Jinni threw her arms around it, wailing and going absolutely crazy. It made her nauseous for some reason.

Hanwol’s hand pressed the bulge in her stomach and a prolonged groan escaped through her constricted throat. He applied more pressure to the bulge, making her jerk in response, completely overwhelmed by the sensation of his cock filling her up.

Hanwol stopped and pulled out. Jinni convulsed as those veins and ridges of his cock dragged along her sensitive velvety walls. Before she could process anything else, Hanwol thrust back inside, causing her to cry out as the force pushed her upward.

"Ahh! P-Please..." her shaky voice was barely a whisper.

He set an unforgiving pace, his cock relentlessly hitting all the sweet spots inside her. The sounds she made with each pump were like exclamation marks. Whenever his tip brushed against her cervix, her eyes rolled back. Jinni was dripping with fluids, leaking and gushing all around him. Some even trickled down to her butthole.

"Please what?"

Hanwol loosened his grip on her throat, giving her a chance to breathe and speak, but all she could do was whimper and dig her nails into his shoulders. She was on the edge, feeling nothing but knots in her stomach, desperately craving release.

Hanwol let his hand slip between their bodies, pinching and tearing her stiff clit to stimulate her even more with both pain and pleasure. She shook against him as his hips roughly pierced into her. And then without pausing, he grabbed her left leg, placing it on his shoulder, driving his cock to the deepest depth of her pussy.

“Oh shit! You're milking me good, Jinni-ya. Haa— Fuck!”

Once again, she was choked, gasping for air beneath him, holding onto his muscular body as he both strangled and inflated her.

Hanwol took a deep breath and let out a blissful bellow as he shoved his entire cock into Jinni's pussy—way more than she ever thought possible. She went cross-eyed and had another body-shaking orgasm as he exploded inside her, filling her up with his hot, churning seed.

Her poor belly was filled with an excessive amount of fresh semen, a lot of which spilled back out and pooled on the couch. Her trembling hand clutched her swollen stomach.

Jinni was completely shattered, reduced to a wreck by his violation. Hanwol stayed inside her for a moment, panting, before slowly pulling his cock out from her cum-filled cunt, causing her pussy to squirt her nectar all over his crotch as she spasmed and arched her body, overwhelmed by ecstasy.

Hanwol wasn't about to give Jinni a break. He released her neck, and before she could even take a breath, he shoved all his fingers into her mouth, except for his thumb. Jinni gagged out loud, her chest sucking in as she struggled to handle it.

"You don't think we're done, do you? We're both jobless, so we've got all the time in the world to have some fun," he said with bitterness in his voice, recalling how he was unjustly fired.

Anger consumed Hanwol as he viciously attacked her hypersensitive pussy, aiming her clit at the tips of his fingers, repeatedly slapping it in an upward motion. With him between her legs, Jinni couldn't even close them, so they kicked against the couch on his sides.

Jinni's vocal resistance was reduced to gagging and retching as his fingers probed the depths of her throat, forcing her saliva to dribble down her cheeks. Her hands clenched his shirt tightly, but it didn't seem to have any noticeable effect.

Hanwol yanked his hand away from Jinni's mouth, and she shot up, coughing and sticking her tongue out. He grabbed her messy black hair, pulling her up while pointing his cock towards her mouth.

He pressed the tip of his cock against her cracked lips, feeling the anticipation of her warm mouth overwhelming him. Her lips tightened, her teeth grinding together in denial. She glared up at him, a mix of shock and disgust on her face.

Leaning over her, Hanwol tightened his grip on her hair, yanking out a few strands as she tried to pry his hands off. "Listen here... I'm not letting you go. I bet nobody even knows you're here, so might as well enjoy this like a slut you are."

"I am not your fucking slut!" she spat, her chest heaving with anger.

He responded with a loud slap across her face. Her lips parted, and Hanwol sighed as he invaded her mouth, feeling it close around him. He loosened his grip on Jinni's hair, his fingers cradling the back of her head. The wet heat got his pulse racing. He let out a breathy exhale, his eyes rolling back as Jinni reluctantly sucked on his shaft.

"Fuck," he hissed softly.

Jinni's head bobbed back and forth, her tongue embracing his thick flesh. It felt great until he realized she was just going through the motions. It was mechanical and lacked passion. Hanwol growled, his fingers twisting in her hair again before rocking his hips forward, sliding past the barrier of her throat. She gagged, her body tensing, and he groaned at the tight grip around him.

Hips jerking, he grabbed the side of Jinni's head with his other hand to hold her in place. If that's how she wanted it, he'd give it to her. Jinni's eyes darted up to him as he grinned down at her before shooting his cock forward, widening her eyes in surprise.

Hanwol was totally into it, feeling the warm, wet, tight glide of Jinni's throat around his pulsating cock. He thrust again. Her throat tightened. Jinni gagged and struggled, which only turned him on even more. He held onto her head firmly and pounded away, his hips going at it like a jackhammer, giving Jinni's throat no mercy.

Her knees shifted on the squeaky cushion beneath her. She tried to squirm away, but Hanwol had her face locked in place. Poor girl whimpered, choking for air. Drool and precum dripped down her chin, making a sloppy mess.

Feeling the climax approaching way too fast, Hanwol pulled back, his cock slipping out of Jinni's mouth. She coughed and spat, trying to catch her breath. Her cheeks were flushed, lips all swollen, and her skin had this slick shine to it. Hanwol licked his lips. She looked enticing. He gripped his throbbing member tightly to hold back the eruption.

He ran his fingers through Jinni's hair, trying to soothe her, but she shot him an angry glare with those slightly unfocused eyes of hers. Hanwol leaned down and licked the sweat off her ear, making her shudder as she exhaled shakily.

"Please," Jinni rasped, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. She needed a break. A quick one would suffice.

Hanwol raised an eyebrow at her and straightened up. His cockhead brushed against her lips, but Jinni pulled away, denying him access. Hanwol just tugged her hair, yanking her head back. He bucked his hips forward as he entered her mouth again, rubbing himself against the inside of her cheeks and then felt Jinni's throat moving as she swallowed.

Honestly, Hanwol couldn't remember when he closed his eyes, but when he opened them, he saw Jinni's lips wrapped tight around his girth. Her eyes were shut, brows furrowed, and she really got her technique down this time. Her lips and tongue worked their magic, occasionally grazing him with her teeth, making her gag even before he was halfway down her throat.

Jinni spread her knees wider, like she was trying to ground herself somehow, and her head started moving faster. She forced herself onto him, shaking and gagging as Hanwol pushed past the resistance at the back of her windpipe before pulling back.

Moaning and totally lost in the moment, Hanwol tightened his grip on Jinni's hair, his mouth hanging open as he kept hammering forward. Jinni's eyes shook with fear, but she didn't back away, knowing things would get even rougher if she did. Instead, she braced herself as Hanwol went at her mouth with renewed intensity. He grunted, completely caught up in the pleasure.

She was hot, wet, and soft, spinning his world around like crazy. He fucked her face even faster, pounding into her stretched throat, savoring every desperate gag. Jinni's eyes rolled back, tears streaming down her cheeks, and Hanwol let out a loud cry as he buried deep. Leaning forward, he cradled Jinni's head in his hands as he blew his load down her throat.

With no choice in the matter, Jinni swallowed every drop Hanwol gave her, but some of it dribbled from her mouth, ending up on her chin. When he was finally done, Hanwol pulled away, leaving Jinni slumped forward on the couch. She was awake but weak, panting loud and hard.

Hanwol's thirst was somewhat quenched, enough to make the air feel steamy as he finally took off his shirt and slung it over his shoulder. He then helped Jinni peel off her sweaty clothes, tearing her tight shirt in half down her back and yanking it off her body, leaving her kneeling there on all fours in her bralettes.

Not that he cared about her boob size or anything, but he figured it'd be better if she was completely naked. So, he unhooked her bralettes, letting the lacy fabric drop down. Jinni didn't put up as much of a fight anymore, which made him give her bare ass a smack, printing a reddish mark on her skin.

Jinni fell silent, her heavy breathing the only audible sound in the room. Yet, Hanwol's frustration lingered, leaving him unsatisfied. He had come this far, so why not push further? That thought crossed his mind.

Giving in to his negative emotions, Hanwol grabbed a handful of Jinni's hair, pulling her upright. With his other hand, he explored her chest, groping her breast. Moving on, he caressed her stomach while gazing into her fluttering, puffy eyes.

"You're gonna be filled up with nothing but my cum, Jinni-ya," he remarked, pressing his palm against her soft tummy.

Jinni simply stared at him, her mouth dry as she swallowed hard. Hanwol didn't require a response either way. He guided her down onto the couch, positioning her in front of the coffee table. Then, he bent her over the rectangular surface.

On the other side of the table sat a glass of milk he had served her earlier. Jinni's blank gaze glued on it, her indifference palpable. That was, until he spread her ass and spat right on her asshole. Her eyes widened as she glanced back at him.

"Wh-What the hell are you doing? Yah! You-You can fucking ruin my pussy, damn it! Don't you—Argh!!"

Hanwol stepped on her head, causing her hands to flail behind her in a desperate attempt to shield her untouched anus. That turned out to be a major mistake as he captured her wrists and bound them with his shirt he had hanging on his shoulder earlier.

With her hands tied, she was once again at his mercy as he gave her pussy a hard slap from behind. "Ahh! Fuck!" She gritted her teeth in pain, yet her legs trembled, and her juices leaked from her sore pussy.

"What the fuck? Did you just come from that? What a slut," he scoffed, delivering another solid smack to her pussy.

Her body shook even harder, her toes curling as more fluid dripped onto the floor. Biting her lip, she suppressed a moan. She wasn't about to give Hanwol the satisfaction he craved by admitting that her body was practically in overdrive because of all the sensation scratching under her skin.

Hanwol's mouth found her glistening skin, planting wet kisses on her shoulder and neck, while his hands reached around her belly, giving it a gentle massage.

"You are so fucking erotic right now," Hanwol murmured. "Would be a shame to let you go so soon..." His fingers traced light patterns across Jinni's waist, causing goosebumps to rise in their trail. "I should keep you like this. Completely naked, Choi Yunjin."

Jinni closed her eyes, trying to imagine she was anywhere else. With anyone else. But then, a warm, wet tongue licked up the side of her neck, and she reluctantly opened her eyes again.

The sensation felt strangely good. Unwanted, of course, but still pleasurable. She didn't want to get lost in the sensations and forget the nightmare—the fact that he was forcing himself on her. Hanwol's fingers trailed down her body, reaching the cleft of her ass, making Jinni tense up.

"This could have gone differently, Jinni-ya," Hanwol said, sounding almost wistful. It took a moment for Jinni to swallow the lump in her throat. "You could have just given in. Let loose and fuck like wild rabbits.”

She shook her head. "I used to care for you, Park Hanwol. I used to adore you. But not anymore... Go fuck yourself,” Jinni calmly cursed him, straining against her restraints, trying to free herself. A firm hand clamped onto the curve of Jinni's hip, and she tensed as his middle finger pressed down between her ass cheeks, pressing against the entrance of her anus.

"Please, don't. I'm begging you," she huffed, fear evident in her voice.

Hanwol loosened his grip a bit, but his finger stayed put, poking her asshole.

"Come on, please," Jinni pleaded again, tilting her head to catch a glimpse of her former manager's face over her shoulder.

Hanwol sneered at her, his grip digging into her hip like an eagle on a mouse, and a surge of panic shot through Jinni's chest before he violently shoved his finger up her ass.

The pain was unbearable. Jinni let out a shrill scream, feeling the dry, burning agony, and desperately tried to wiggle her hips away. But Hanwol had a tight grip, keeping his finger firmly lodged inside her.

Jinni slumped against the table, her head hanging down. Then, he twisted his finger inside her, making her insides clench and spasm in torment. It hurt like a bitch. Tears squeezed through her tightly shut eyelids.

Slowly, he pulled the finger out, making it feel like he was about to rip her guts out too. Jinni took a shaky breath, only to have it shoved back in with brutal force.

Something tore. Jinni felt it like a blazing inferno ripping through her, and she let out an anguished wail. She slammed harder against the table, all her muscles toned up, desperate for any escape that seemed impossible.

Meanwhile, Hanwol's other hand trailed up her spine, ending at the base of her skull, and he yanked her back against him. Full of excitement, he drove his finger deeper, like it was drilling through her freaking guts.

"Pull it out! It hurts!" she screamed, her tied hands twisting trying to reach out to her burning ass. "Please! Ahh!"

But Hanwol didn't give a shit. He kept curling his finger inside her until Jinni's vision blurred at the edges and the room started spinning like a damn tornado. She wished for the sweet relief of passing out. At least then, she wouldn't have to endure the humiliation and agony.

Closing her eyes, she tried to surrender to the darkness, but then Hanwol's thrusts eased up, finally stopping, and she grunted as he jerked his finger out of her and shoved her face down onto the table.

Hanwol freed her hands and instead used a shirt to cover her face. "Hmph!" It wasn't as suffocating as when he choked her, but she still had to inhale deeply through the fabric to get a breath of air, resulting in a constant huffing sound escaping her mouth.

As Hanwol's hands slid hotly along her hips again, Jinni tensed up. She could feel the pressure of the man's cock, and it seemed unbelievably larger than when she had taken it in her mouth. Hanwol had been big before, making her choke and struggle to accommodate his entire length.

Now, Jinni silently panicked, fearing that his cock wouldn't fit before he forcefully pushed it inside her. It was too much. Hanwol's cock was larger than his finger. Jinni screamed, her nails digging into the tabletop as she desperately searched for something, anything to escape, only to find more pain. Hanwol pressed deeper, thrusting his hips forcefully until he was completely buried inside Jinni's already abused hole.

Jinni tore around him, screaming, jerking, and clawing at the table as her weak body protested against the invasion.

The intoxicated man groaned behind her, his hands gripping and releasing Jinni's curvy hips. "Oh fuck—so tight!" he moaned in bliss. "You're squeezing my cock, Jinni-ya!"

He slowly pulled out, causing Jinni to hiss as her insides clung to the retreating girthy member. But Hanwol didn't leave her completely. He paused with the head of his cock still inside her and, with another groan, thrust back in.

Jinni grunted, squeezing her eyes shut. She wouldn't scream again. Hanwol could take what he wanted, do as he pleased, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing her break yet her loud heaving continued without a second break.

More tears streamed down her face as Jinni pressed her forehead harder against the table. His thrusts were forceful and deep, pushing her stomach against the table. Jinni held onto that small pain—it provided a temporary escape, allowing her to focus on one thing instead of the other, although it didn't last long.

Hanwol leaned over her, sliding one hand into Jinni's hair, pulling her head up and back. "I will have you," he hissed in her ear. "Your body. Your pain. Your screams. And you'll accept it soon enough."

Jinni gagged as he suddenly impaled sharply, her eyes blinking open, seeing only white blurry vision. Her body had loosened, her constricting passage slick from his precum and her own fluids. Hanwol slowed down, penetrating her belly deeply until Jinni could feel the bulge inside pressing the table.

Shifting his hips, Hanwol changed the angle of his thrusts, and Jinni's mouth fell open. The pain began to fade, replaced by a burning, aching pleasure that she denied in her heart. She refused to give in. She wouldn't break. She wouldn't allow this to be anything more than what it was—a brutal violation of her body and mind.

"Never!" Jinni exclaimed, but her body had a mind of its own.

Her clit was throbbing, starting off slow but getting stronger with each scratching thrust from Hanwol. Her skin flushed, heat spreading through her chest, nipples fully standing, and her pussy leaking excessively. It was making her dizzy. Jinni's body was on fire, and she couldn't help but let out a moan between her deep breaths.

Hanwol chuckled, loosening his grip on Jinni's hair as his hand trailed down her arched back. He grabbed her ass, going harder and faster, fucking her with wild abandon. Jinni's head dropped forward, mouth hanging open, her spit soaking the cloth around her head, choking on the mix of pleasure and distress.

One of Hanwol's hands found her dripping pussy and began stroking her clit in rhythm with his thrusts. "You see, Jinni-ya," Hanwol groaned, giving her clit a wicked twist that made her stomach flutter. "You're a slut. Your body knows it, even if you deny it."

Jinni shook her head, denying it, even as her body burned with heat, desire, and pulsating bliss. Sweat clung to her skin, beading on her forehead and rolling down her back and chest. But with each passing moment, her denials grew weaker as Hanwol's actions intensified.

Hanwol pulled out of Jinni, gripping her shoulders and turning her towards the davenport. They slipped on the pool of her sticky juices on the marble floor, barely managing to stay upright before falling onto the cushions.

Quickly kneeling between her thighs, Hanwol guided his cock towards her puckered and twitching asshole. This time, as he entered Jinni, her ass welcomed him, making her feel full to her stomach. It stretched her virgin hole wider than she thought possible, almost as if it would tear from the sheer force. But Hanwol didn't hold back, pulling out and thrusting back in.

Jinni's breath caught in her throat as a new sensation shot through her like a lightning bolt. Her arousal ignited, and she squirted girl juice across Hanwol's chest, her legs quivering as he spread them to the sides and continued to pound into her, his cockhead slamming her guts from the inside.

Hanwol was going at it, pounding away with all his might, and the room echoed with the sound of slapping flesh and heavy breathing. Jinni couldn't help but moan, her body heating up and craving something she had never felt before.

"Come on, say it," Hanwol growled, thrusting so hard that Jinni felt like she was getting launched off the couch. She held onto her legs tightly, trying to keep up with the intensity. She was determined to keep her pride.

Jinni tried closing her eyes, hoping to escape the overwhelming sensations, but darkness only seemed to amplify every touch, every thrust, and every surge of heat that washed over her. When she opened her eyes, she saw Hanwol lost in his own lust, and it made her feel ashamed and disgusted with herself.

"Just say it!" Hanwol demanded again, his voice a mix of ecstasy and a dangerous growl. His hips moved with a ferocity that hit Jinni in all the right places, and she whimpered as her clit pulsated.

Her whole body felt like it was about to explode when she couldn't hold back anymore and screamed, muffled, "What do you want from me?! Ahh!"

Hanwol ripped off the shirt covering her face and kept thrusting. Finally, Jinni could breathe freely. He didn't care about anything else now, just fucking her relentlessly, over and over, until his rhythm became erratic and Jinni's eyes rolled back.

He was on the edge of climax. "Just say you're a slut!" Hanwol snarled.

His body tensed up as his orgasm ripped through him. He buried himself deep inside her, pressing his hips against her firmly, and Jinni bit her lip as she felt his hot load flooding her. It felt like he was shooting directly into her stomach, making her feel bloated.

Hanwol jerked and kept going until his orgasm subsided, and Jinni desperately hoped he would be done with her now. He slumped forward for a moment, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his high faded into a satisfied glow.

Letting out a soft groan, Hanwol looked up and let go of Jinni's legs, reaching for her swollen clit instead. No words were needed; his gaze alone conveyed what he wanted as he gripped her pussy lips tightly.

She shook her head. "No…" she weakly said, her voice filled with emotion.

Hanwol's eyes flickered with irritation, and he gave her clit a sharp, painful twist. Jinni hissed but then followed it up with a precise stroke that sent waves of pleasure through her. He fingered her pussy, twisted his hand like a screw, and then pulled back until his thumb teased her entrance.

Tears welled up in Jinni's eyes, and all she could manage was a choked-off sob. She pressed her fist against her mouth, biting down on her finger. Hanwol twisted his hand around her crotch so forcefully that Jinni feared he might rip off her clit.

Jinni let out a cry, sounding like a wounded animal on the verge of giving up, and she slipped off the couch, landing on the cold floor. She huffed, clutching her stomach, feeling too weak to move any further. The tingling sensation all over her body just added to her discomfort.

Hanwol flopped onto the couch, running his fingers through his damp hair and letting out a huff. He kicked back, staring up at the ceiling and realizing that the living room had been dim for god knows how long. The day was almost over, slowly turning into dusk.

Out of the blue, a laugh burst out of him, followed by a scoff. "We're both a mess now. We're ruined, aren't we?" he mumbled, catching a whiff of the unmistakable scent of sex lingering in the air. Exhaustion was finally getting the best of him, and his tired eyes fluttered, gradually closing.

Everything was cluttered. His life, his house, his future— a huge chaos. Strangely enough, he didn't feel crushed by it all. He knew he'd deal with those problems when the time came in whatever way he could. Jinni too.

With his eyes shut, Hanwol's lips moved silently. "Jinni-ya, should I be your manager again after this?" No response came from the violated girl, and a breath later, he drifted off to sleep.

[minkdelovely]

love and power

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

chapter one

“don’t call me by my name.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: descriptions of reader’s demon form, Alastor uses the chain and withholding your breakfast as punishment, Alastor takes pleasure in your fear, power dynamics, reader worries over being punished, lecherous demons in an alley, non-consensual grab and lick of the face, graphic violence, murder, blood, teeth as a weapon, slow burn eventual: smut

word count: 2.5k

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“Why didn’t you bring me a boy to play with?” Niffty pouted, her little foot stomping the carpet. 

She hadn’t been pleased when Alastor broke the news that he had acquired a new maid to help her out around the hotel, and glared at you past his legs. He laughed, seeming to enjoy her tantrum. You still weren’t sure how to feel about this Demon who had taken over your contract. While he had been pleasant enough at the Emporium after Rosie signed you over, he hadn’t spoken a word to you while leading you through the streets of Hell to bring you here. 

“I’m afraid you’ve answered your own question, Niffty dear. Had I brought you a toy, I’m not so sure you’d sustain your productivity. Which is precisely why I brought help.” He turned to look back at you for the first time then, your chest tightening from the eye contact. Alastor maintained contact as he continued, “Sylvie will maintain my quarters for now so as not to take away from your duties, but once the hotel gets busier I expect you to play nice and share. Besides, she’ll need training before we just let her loose around the hotel! We have a reputation to uphold, after all.”

He smirked at you and broke his gaze, pivoting to make his way up the stairs. Before the others could get a chance to come talk to you, an invisible tug was at your neck and you hurried to catch up with Alastor.

“I’ll show Sylvie to her room so she can settle in,” Alastor said loud enough for everyone, still facing forward as he continued up the staircase.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

That had been a week ago.

Everyone else had been fairly welcoming, Charlie being the kindest. She and her girlfriend Vaggie had made the most effort getting to know you, which made sense being they were in charge of the hotel. Though he wasn’t rude, Husker only spoke to you in short quips. You tried not to dwell on the pity in his eyes any time you crossed by the bar in the lobby.

Angel Dust had been nice too, the few times you had managed to see him and always at the bar, joking amicably that you could almost pass as twins despite quite obvious differences. He was a decent amount taller and slimmer than you for starters. Hell seemed to have turned him into a spider of sorts, and if you had to take a guess, you had spawned here as some kind of milky-colored reptile. No scales, but there was a faint pearlescent pattern of something close to that covering your neck, back, and extremities. 

It was still jarring to see your reflection in the mirror. There were parts you still recognized, though even those features had felt Hell’s touch. To your relief, your face still looked more or less the same. Nearly Human passing, until your newly-added nictitating membrane blinked right-to-left. Though your red pupils and pink sclera were also a dead giveaway (haha, get it?). Something you weren’t sure you’d ever adjust to, but hey, you earned it right?

You had just finished getting into the black collared dress Alastor demanded you wore for work when a dark shadow pooled under your feet. Complete darkness and seconds later, you were standing in the parlor of Alastor’s suite. 

“[Y/N],” Alastor’s low, static voice lingered on it, red eyes boring into you. Something he had gleaned very quickly in the week was how unsettled you got when he used your real name, and enjoyed the opportunities to use it. “I find tardiness to be an irksome trait. Do not make it a habit. Am I understood?”

You fought a grimace, loathing his condescension. The Radio Demon’s smile threatened to tear as he watched you struggle to maintain composure. You hadn’t succeeded completely, but you were making some progress.

“Well?” he goaded.

“Yes, sir,” you managed to say evenly, hands fidgeting behind your back.

You knew better now than to play into his tricks. He was trying to get you to react, a sport he took great pleasure in succeeding at. So when he wasn’t ordering you around, he was complaining about the look on your face. Sullen, petulant, ghastly, he had used all kinds of names. And when you had gotten cheeky with him about it on your second day after hours of scrubbing the area rug in his room that he had dirtied on purpose…

The slight ache in the back of your neck served as a reminder of that. Sadistically, the chain was the only true cold you’ve felt since spawning in Hell and it seemed to burn more than acid rain. It wasn’t hard to remember the weight of it, the sweaty feeling of it on your skin. Alastor had enjoyed it all immensely. 

Denying him his fun in pissing you off probably wasn’t good in the long term, but you had to toe the line in order to find the limit. You wanted to learn as much as you could about the creature who owned you. Eternity was never-ending, but learning how to cope was all you could try to do. Being moved to this hotel had turned out to be a true blessing all things considered, so if navigating Alastor’s moods and demands was the price, you would have to pay it.

“Good!” The expression on Alastor’s face quickly relaxed into a more pleasant one. “Now hurry up and run into town to fetch my dry cleaning, and bring me something from that new butcher shop. I’ll leave it to you to decide, I so love surprises! Skipping breakfast will serve as your warning for being tardy. See you in an hour, dear.”

With that, he disappeared before you in a quick melt of shadow.

He was so. Fucking. Annoying. But you wouldn’t risk throwing a tantrum. For all you knew, he was still somewhere in the room, and honestly, you didn’t have time to waste. The walk from here to Cannibal Town was about twenty minutes and Alastor had summoned you before you had been able to put on your shoes, a five-minute setback at least. He had also made no mention of how you were expected to pay for any of this… 

Time to perform a fucking miracle, you thought to yourself, and made your way for the door.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Alastor watched as you took a deep breath and smoothed your pale pink hair before leaving his room. The small click of the door locking echoed in the silence. He re-materialized near the large window that faced the city, grinning when he finally saw you walking off the premises at a hurried pace. You were so close to coming loose, so close to breaking that unbecoming pout. How he loathed it. He would rid you of the self-pity you wallowed in, even if it drove you to madness. A chuckle escaped him at the thought.

When you spoke back to him last week it had been such a thrill. Alastor closed his eyes, reliving the memory. He had allowed himself a moment to enjoy your insolence before inverting it to fear. Now that was a face he could get used to. The cold sweat on your skin, your red-pink eyes wide with shock. The sound of your hands and knees hitting the floor was music to his ears! Though he would never forget the gasp that caught in your throat from the shock.

He didn’t even need to raise his voice when he told you never to speak to him that way again, a direction you had perhaps taken too much to heart. Then again, you didn’t come across as a fighter. No, you were much too apathetic for that, at least for now.

And you had smelled so lovely in your fear. The usual floral sweetness of your scent had turned warm and nutty. For a moment he was certain he had picked up a hint of bitterness before you had mouthed off, but it disappeared so quickly once you were frightened that he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that he wanted to smell it again.

With some luck, that would be quite soon; a little over an hour now if all goes according to plan. The Radio Demon had never expected you to return within the given timeframe.

Setting you up to fail wasn’t fair, but it was certainly fun.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Donner’s Butchery had been absolutely packed, but you managed to purchase the last available pound of liver. Their selection had been so low that you were more concerned with walking out of there without anything at all. Whether or not Alastor would enjoy it was a matter reserved for your return, though you hoped he would since you had to open a tab to get it. 

Thankfully, the dry cleaning had been settled upfront so you were actually starting to feel a little optimistic about making it back in time. In fact, you were now determined to be back in time out of spite. Imagining the veiled irritation on Alastor’s face when you arrived within the hour kept you distracted from the hunger pain in your stomach, and your pace subconsciously picked up. The high was short-lived though once your mind wandered to what other tasks Alastor would surely have lined up once you handed him his clothes and liver.

And what if he hated liver? You were in such a hurry that you didn’t even know what kind it was if he asked about it, which he probably would if only to watch you squirm trying to answer. The hotel wasn’t too far off now and you stepped into an alley to search the bag for a receipt, hoping that the butcher had been thorough enough to write it down. You found the receipt taped to the butcher paper, the words DEER LIVER scribbled with thick, black marker. 

“Thank god,” you sighed quietly, relieved to have peace of mind and placed it back in the bag. You were just about to step back onto the sidewalk when you heard laughter behind you.

“God ain’t here, sweetheart. Haven’t you noticed?”

You turned to see two demons, already standing much closer to you than you’d like. In your desperation to check the bag, you hadn’t heard them approaching. Something that should have embarrassed you, given the sour smell wafting off their clothes, but there wasn’t time for that. You took a quick glance at the clocktower.

Five minutes.

Of course it was… Even if you ran, you’d probably only get to the gate at best and knowing Alastor, that wouldn’t count.

“You got somewhere to be? Hand over the bag and maybe we’ll let you go,” the taller one continued, his plump sidekick snickering, both moving to cage you in.

God damn it… You were so close. So fucking close. Not only that, but were you were hungry and exhausted. All you had done this week was try your best to manage Alastor’s impossible expectations for what? An easier eternity? The creeps standing near you were right, God wasn’t here. This is Hell. Suffering eternal. 

The sanctuary you thought you’d found at the hotel was anything but. Its promise of redemption was the dangling carrot, always just out of reach. A sick joke, just like everything else here. Not that you had ever planned to be redeemed, you knew why you were here, but living in the hotel had lulled you into a false sense of security. Hell wasn’t clean and filled with mild-mannered sinners.

“Look at that, she’s fucking crying!” the plump demon laughed, bringing you back to the moment. “You’ve always liked ‘em scared, Donny.”

The tall one, apparently called Donny, shot his arm out to block you from leaving, a lecherous grin spreading across his face. “Is he right, baby? You scared?”

You could feel your heart in your throat. Scared? You were pissed. And when Donny grabbed your face and boldly licked a tear off your cheek, you snapped.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The Radio Demon had been hard at work tuning Vaggie out for the last few minutes. He was aimlessly wandering the lobby when she cornered him, seeming to have finally found her opportunity to interrogate him over acquiring your soul. It would have been easy enough to tell the disgraced Angel that it was the least he could do considering the help Rosie had provided them, but upsetting Vaggie was simply too much fun.

She was droning on about how she and Charlie would be taking over the onboarding of any more new employees when Alastor felt a chain rattle, ear flicking in response. Some fool was messing with his property. He reached out mentally to follow the chain and soon caught the scent of almond. He grimaced. Of course it was yours.

“As much as I cherish our conversations, I’ll need to cut this short Vaggie. I’m afraid duty calls,” Alastor said smugly, grinning at the rage on her face from being so casually brushed off before slipping into shadow.

When Alastor materialized in an alley he was met with piercing screams, and it took him a moment to register what he was seeing. You were on the ground straddling the waist of some poor soul, your face covered in blood as you tore out your victim’s neck with your teeth. The creature in question no longer seemed to have much left of the lower half of his face, the remnants of it no doubt lying somewhere in the gore. His death rattle was nothing more than a gurgle and spurt of blood, but it seemed you were too lost in your rampage to notice he was now motionless beneath you.

Alastor didn’t bother with the pudgy creature that had no doubt been your victim’s friend. Well, perhaps not a very good friend, seeing as the coward ran away once he regained his footing. Besides, it wouldn’t be difficult to track the cretin down if Alastor changed his mind about it later.

For now, his focus was on you and what a glorious sight it was. He wished for a moment that your dress had been a different color, just to see how much blood and scraps of flesh had soaked into it. Judging from the mess on your face, it had to be quite a lot.

The sounds coming from you were savage, nearly carnal, and you were relentless in your attack despite the damage already done. When would you stop, he wondered. When there was nothing but bone? The aspect thrilled him to the core and he sniffed deeply, taking in the scent of blood and almond. There it was — that delicious, bitter, nutty warmth. He had been right. Letting out a satisfied, pleasured sigh, he waited patiently for you to finish. After a minute or so you succeeded in decapitating the fool, and Alastor made his approach as you struggled to catch your breath. 

Gingerly tapping you once with his foot, you startled with a growl and snapped your teeth. Alastor let out a low chuckle, taking in the wild look of your face, eyes glowing pink.

“I believe he’s had enough for now, dear. You made good work of him, I’m quite impressed,” he said, giving you a proud smile. “Now let’s get you home before you cause a scene.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

[twobluejeans]

HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 8: you’re losing me, part 7: revenge dress, series masterlist

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 8! taylor swift deserves jail time for creating you’re losing me. taylor swift also deserves jail time for not officially releasing it. def recommend listening to it reading the chapter! (might have to stream illegally bc mother is being stingy 🙄.)

INSTAGRAM, july 17 (midnight)

liked by paulwesley, ninadobrev, and 13,333,112 others

yourinstagram and just like that, the final chapter of Midnights, is out now. this is my most personal body of work that i'm putting out into the universe, and i'm so scared yet excited to share her with u. thank u to my team, my producer jackantonoff turned dearest friend of almost 7 years (woah!!!) we spent many noons & midnights on this album and i'm forever in debt n grateful. thank u to all my other friends who i didn't mention, yk who u are. to everyone else, thank u for your persistent patience and support. it does not go unnoticed. from my heart to yours, midnights (till dawn edition), is available on all streaming platforms. i love u. thank u 💗.

View all 101,273 comments

leclerccharl ain’t that the teddy bear charles won for her at the fair forever ago??!

y/nsfeverdreamhigh leclerccharl o em gee yeah..

fernandoalonso_offical Proud of you cariño

barbie ���🥹💗💗

landonoriss screaming crying shaking throwing up

danielricciardo gagging choking ascending to god

authur_leclerc Love you always, Proud of you always ❤️

INSTAGRAM STORIES, july 17

zendaya 30m

viewed by alexademie, tomholland2013, and 64,134 others

badgalriri 2h

viewed by harrystyles, bellahadid, and 3,262,128 others

sabrinacarpenter 5h

viewed by zendaya, lola.tung, and 1,524,211 others

TWITTER, july 17

The song’s big question: “Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?”

BY: ALLY PUBLISHED: JULY 17, 2023

Y/n L/n’s lyrical candidness is what has always made her standout as a songwriter. Whether she was writing about young love, relationships, or breakups, her songs never flinched from trying to paint a full picture, even if it was one that was hard to look at.

It’s been a while since the super star has released a breakup song, but it was only a matter of time; since the singer split with Charles Leclerc, fans have already began anticipating the inevitable breakup album. But it turns out they didn’t have to wait long. At Midnight (July 17), L/n released a second deluxe edition of her 2022 album Midnights, which included four new songs, among them the release of “You’re Losing Me,” a song fans have deciphered as ostensibly about her split with Leclerc.

via @yourinstagram on instagram

The nearly 5-minute track is a devastating relationship ender if we’ve ever heard one, as it details the hopeless and tragic dissolution of a relationship. Though L/n doesn’t include any names or details, it’s not hard to see why fans are interpreting it as being about her and Leclerc. 

When Entertainment Weekly first broke the news of their split in April, sources for both parties diplomatically described the breakup as amicable, and that “it was not dramatic.” “The relationship had just run its course,” one source told ET. However, that story was debunked as L/n herself, stated Leclerc had an affair with Australian Youtuber Lola Ransdell, in one of her Eras Tour Shows.  With the release of “You’re Losing Me,” L/n seems to offer a window into her perspective of how things ended while also releasing one of the most devastating songs she’s ever written.

Its lyrics don’t waste any time getting into the tragic heart of the matter. “You say, ‘I don't understand,’ and I say, ‘I know you don’t’/ We thought a cure would come through in time, now, I fear it won’t/ Remember looking at this room, we loved it ‘cause of the light/ Now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time,” she sings in the first verse, painting a portrait of two people who are unaligned and have seemingly grown apart in their relationship.

The pre-chorus lays out the song’s big question: “Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?” But waiting for resolution feels like something L/n doesn’t want to do anymore: “I'm getting tired, even for a phoenix/ Always rising from the ashes/ Mending all her gashes/ You might just have dealt the final blow,” she sings.

The most heart-wrenching part of the song comes in on the chorus, as she warns her other half, “Stop, you're losing me/ Stop, you’re losing me/ Stop, you’re losing me I can't find a pulse/ My heart won't start anymore/ For you/ ‘Cause you're losing me.” The lyrics mirror the song’s production which sounds like a quietly pulsing heartbeat, driving the knife’s blade of the song in even deeper.

Perhaps L/n’s biggest skill on this song is being able to convey all the heartbreak and roiling emotion without actually providing any specifics into the breakup. 

“You’re Losing Me” is rife with frank, confessional lyrics, but still keeps many of the exact contours of the split obscure. There are no accusations or fingers pointed at who’s at fault. There are no mic drop moments or explosive gossip; The closest L/n gets to revealing any details is on the second verse, when she seems to suggest that the relationship hadn’t been OK for a while now.

“Every morning, I glared at you with storms in my eyes/ How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dying?/ I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick/ My face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick,” she sings.

On the bridge, L/n reveals that she “wouldn’t marry me either,” perhaps offering the tiniest, sliver of hints into one of the other reasons why they ultimately fell apart: “And I wouldn't marry me either/ A pathological people pleaser/ Who only wanted you to see her/ And I'm fading, thinking/ Do something, babe, say something (say something)/ Lose something, babe, risk something (risk something)/ Choose something, babe, I got nothing (I got nothing)/ To believe, unless you’re choosing me.”

It’s the lack of details, the palpable restraint despite L/n’s clear heartbreak behind its lyrics, that makes “You’re Losing Me” perhaps the most devastating song in her catalog (yes, even more so than “All Too Well.”) Amid the grief and sadness of the song, there’s also a feeling of inevitability, of sorrow that nothing more could be done, of pointlessly waiting for action when you know nothing is coming.

 In some regards, it’s one of L/n’s most mature breakup songs in her catalog, regardless of whoever it’s about. And if this is just a “from the vault” track, it makes one wonder what an albums-worth of these songs would sound like.

SEE MORE RELATED POSTS:

• Lola Ransdell Cancelled over resurfaced racism tweets

• Lola Ransdell loses brand deals over Y/n L/n drama

• Charles Leclerc finally breaks his silence over Y/n L/n Breakup

ally’s radio 📻:a filler chapter im sorry😞 but anyways, the related stories r a sneak peak of the next chapter🤫 if u asked me to tag u and i didn’t, pls send me a message or inbox me bc it might’ve gotten lost 😭 i try to stay up-to-date but sometimes i miss people so pls lmk!!!

taglist 🦢🪩: @incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @perjarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife @mrsmaybank13 @black-swan-blog27 @stargaryenx @lilsiz @ohthemisssery @leclerclvr @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @shessthunderstoms @cool-ultra-nerd @ncentic @playboykenz @canvashearts @tinyhrry @xeliaaaa @ifionlywould @gaviypedrisbride @callsignwindow @dhhdhsiavdhaj @chasing-liberosis @laneyspaulding19 @a-daydreamers-day @saikikusouswife @motorsp0rt @lifesuckslife @shessthunderstoms @drewsandsebastianswife @sainzluvrr @ietss

[elliesbelle]

nobody compares to you

chapter 13

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, mentions of marijuana and descriptions of its usage, descriptions of anaphylactic shock, brief mention of needles, descriptions of anxiety, mentions of death, descriptions of jealousy, mentions of breakups, several flashback scenes, mentions of LSD and its usage, descriptions of acid tripping, ellie's POV, minors do not interact

word count: 9k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-if if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

songs featured in this chapter (including a surprise audio AND drawing commission in the middle of the fic):

the aaron taylor song “i think i love you again”

the carpenters song “merry christmas darling”

palestine will be free

“Where the fuck even are you?” 

“Not home.” 

“Well, no shit. I’m literally sitting on your living room couch, dumbass.” 

“Get out of my apartment, weirdo.” 

“Stop procrastinating, asshole.” 

Ellie rolls her eyes as a couple of bright yellow leaves slowly dance down on the pavement from the nearby trees on her path home. One hand holds her phone up in front of her with Dina’s face front and center on the screen through FaceTime. 

Having just dropped off a rather large order to a couple of stoner sophomores living on campus, Ellie’d decided to take the longer, more scenic route home instead of the usual way she’d go every day. She had a “date” lined up with Daniela in about an hour or so, a meeting she wasn’t particularly looking forward to being present for. Having no real enthusiasm to actually be on time to meet up with her, Ellie was purposely and leisurely delaying her return home to get ready. 

Dina, busy lounging on the couch in Jesse and Ellie’s living room, busies herself by finishing a bland, microwaveable box of mac and cheese she’d found shoved in the back of the duo’s full freezer. She was casually killing time talking to Ellie through video chat while she waited for Jesse to finish getting ready for their movie date night. 

Jesse enjoyed dragging Dina along to a movie theater in the neighbouring downtown area that showed old and foreign films. Back home in Jackson throughout their childhood, he and Ellie would make Dina sit through old sci-fi pictures, cult horror films, martial arts movies in a completely different language and with no subtitles. Dina would sit in the middle of the two in complete boredom as she listened to them psychoanalyzing background characters who had two lines and spending hours explaining their personal interpretations of a single camera angle in some inconsequential scene. 

When they all began attending university, Jesse was over the moon upon discovering the nearby theater and the kind of films they would show. Dina complained every single time, but she secretly enjoyed these date nights regardless, always arguing with Jesse on the way home with her own analyses of the movie they’d just seen. She was a little less enthusiastic this time, however, upon hearing that the film they were about to go see was an early 2000s Bollywood movie that had a running time of nearly four hours. 

Jesse had just gotten home from working out at the gym and was busy showering, and Dina decided to preoccupy herself in the meantime by thoroughly berating Ellie for her disinterest and voluntary tardiness for her “date” later that evening. 

“El, I really don’t understand why you’re even bothering with her,” Dina says after a huge, wet slurp of her mac and cheese. “Leave that poor freshman girl alone. You really don’t even seem to like her that much.” 

“She’s still got Joel’s jacket and I want it back.” Ellie shrugs nonchalantly. 

“Maybe if you didn’t pass that shabby old thing around to every new girl you see for a month…” Dina replies, not bothering to mutter under her breath. 

“Oh, leave me the fuck alone, Woodward,” Ellie says, chuckling. “Slutshamer.” 

Jesse jaunts into the living room, jet black hair damp from the shower and fully dressed, and spots Ellie’s face on Dina’s tiny screen. He waltzes towards the couch and, without any warning, stealthily snatches Dina’s phone right out of her hand. 

“Hey!” Dina protests indignantly, trying to reach for it back. 

Jesse ignores her as Ellie laughs. 

“Yo, what the fuck, Williams.” Jesse scolds the auburn-haired girl. 

“Wassup, Chang.” 

“What the hell did you ditch me and the gym for earlier? Today’s our cardio day.” 

“Had a huge delivery I needed to make,” Ellie shrugs. “Wanted two 40 bags on top of a few lavender pre-rolls. And they lived on the opposite side of campus.” 

“A likely excuse,” Jesse scoffs. “I think you’ve been harbouring a secret, years-long grudge against me and actually hate me for some reason.” 

“Oh, it’s not a secret. I do hate you.” 

“Dickhead.” Jesse chuckles as Dina heartily laughs behind him with a mouthful of mac and cheese. 

Before Jesse can continue to berate his best friend, his own phone rings noisily from the inside of one of his jeans pockets. 

“Oh, look. Someone who actually loves and appreciates me.” He says indignantly, handing small-scale Ellie back to Dina. 

Ellie playfully rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the fact that Jesse’s phone is currently buzzing and blaring with the personalized ringtone he’d set for your contact years ago shortly after you’d all met for the first time. 

Dina, recognizing the familiar sound as well and noticing Ellie’s tight lips and rigid expression, quickly attempts to change the subject. 

“So where exactly are you gonna be meeting up with the Daniela girl?” Dina quickly asks Ellie at the same time that Jesse booms, “Good evening once again to my absolute favourite person in the whole world!” 

Ellie hesitantly begins to reply to Dina but cuts off almost immediately when she hears Jesse’s tone turn serious and mutter a name she’d come to despise. 

“Oh. Hey, Anderson. What’s up?” Jesse says blankly. “Where’s—” 

“Oh, shit.” Dina inadvertently murmurs as Ellie’s face immediately goes red with fury. 

“Why the fuck is Anderson calling Jesse on her phone?” Ellie demands quietly of Dina. 

“I mean… she is on a date with her tonight…” Dina reluctantly admits, knowing that lying to Ellie about your current whereabouts is pointless after figuring Jesse would eventually blab it to her anyway. 

“Are you fucking serious?” Ellie seethes. 

“I don’t really know why she’d be calling Jesse, though. That doesn’t make any sense...” Dina says, setting down her fork and turning her head back towards her boyfriend as Ellie watches intently him from the corner of Dina’s phone screen. 

Both girls stare Jesse down as he intently listens to the other end of the line, the two getting more and more nervous as his face gets stonier as each second passes. When he finally speaks, his voice is grave and urgent. 

“Is she breathing?” 

“What?” Both Dina and Ellie simultaneously say in distress, which Jesse ignores. 

“What did she eat?” He asks Abby. 

“What’s going on?” Dina implores of him fearfully, sitting up straighter in her seat and completely abandoning her partially eaten mac and cheese on the coffee table. 

Jesse holds up a pointer finger as an indication that he needs to keep listening as Ellie hushes her sternly, fiercely trying to eavesdrop on Jesse’s conversation. 

“Okay. What did you eat?” Jesse questions. 

The way Jesse’s face falls elicits a sharply drawn breath from Dina and drains all the colour from Ellie’s face. 

“Did she have any?” He asks. 

While Jesse listens for Abby’s lengthy response, Ellie quickly averts her eyes back to Dina. 

“Dina.” She says hastily. “Where did Anderson take her tonight?” 

“Orchards. It’s that fancy restaurant that’s like, right by here.” 

“I know. They serve a lot of seafood there, right?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Do you think Anderson ordered any?” 

“El, how am I supposed to know that?” 

“Well, does Anderson know that she’s deadly fucking allergic to shellfish? That she can’t even fucking touch that shit?” 

Dina’s terrified face suddenly goes completely pale before she responds. 

“I-I don’t know...” 

“Does she have any pockets or some kind of bag with her?” They hear Jesse say. “See if she has her EpiPen in there.” 

“E-El… I don’t think she does.” Dina stammers.” I helped her get dressed tonight and I saw her before she left, and I-I don’t think—” 

Ellie nearly drops her phone on the pavement from how clammy her hands have become from complete fear. When she hears Jesse fiercely mutter a furious “fuck,” she immediately breaks into a sprint. 

“Dina!” Ellie demands. “Give me back to Jesse! Now!” Dina hastily hands her phone to her petrified boyfriend without question as he quickly asks Abby to stay calm and give him a quick second. 

“Jess!” Ellie breathlessly yells, not bothering to keep her voice down and without any concern for the fellow students she was alarming as she ran by. “Go to my room right now and search in the bottom drawer of my desk!!!” 

Promptly and silently, Jesse darts in the direction of Ellie’s bedroom with Dina following closely behind him. 

“There’s an old EpiPen of hers somewhere in there! I think it’s probably a couple of months expired now, but grab it anyway!” 

Jesse and Dina unceremoniously bust into Ellie’s bedroom and follow her instructions precisely. After forcibly yanking open the bottom-most drawer of her computer desk, they begin to desperately rifle through it. After a few seconds of frantic ransacking through its miscellaneous contents, Jesse pulls out a thick, plastic cylindrical object with tiny lettering embellished all over the translucent plastic. 

“Look for the little slot on the side of it that shows you some liquid-y shit inside!” Ellie presses him. “Is it still completely clear and clean, or is it all brown and murky?” 

“It’s clear.” Jesse replies after quickly inspecting the EpiPen. 

“Okay, go!” Ellie orders. “Dina’s gonna call 911 right now! Orchards is right around the corner from our place, so run! Inject the needle on the outside of her thigh! And check her pulse and see if she’s breathing, ‘cause you’ll need to do CPR if she isn’t! Paramedics probably won’t get there for another five minutes or so, so you just gotta keep doing chest compressions until they can get there!” 

Jesse nods and immediately sprints out of the room after handing Dina her phone, placing his own back to his ear and quickly informing Abby that he’d be there shortly, firmly asking her to check your pulse. 

Dina sets her eyes on Ellie, pure terror engraved on her face. 

“Ellie, s-shouldn’t we grab the EpiPen she has now in her apartment? I think I know where it is, probably. Isn’t that safer than—”

“Her apartment is fifteen minutes away from that restaurant and Jesse can get there in two! We can’t waste any more time!” Ellie clarifies quickly. “Now, I need you to hang up right away and call 911 and explain everything that’s just happened! Go!” 

Ellie doesn’t bother waiting for Dina to end the call and roughly taps on the red button herself. 

She shoves her phone into the pocket of her hoodie and quickens her pace. 

Her lungs winded and her heart threatening to beat out of her chest, she couldn't seem to care any less about her own breathing at that very moment. She trusts nothing else but her own feet to get her exactly where she desperately needs to be. She sees nothing and no one else but the pavement directly in front of her, cutting across the university’s campus through the fastest route she can think of in the moment. 

Despite never having been a religious person in any way, Ellie begins to plead a desperate prayer in her mind to whatever god or deity that could possibly exist that you were still breathing somehow and that Jesse had found you and gotten there in time. 

She takes a moment to pull her phone out and check how long it’s been since she ended the FaceTime call with Dina, seeing that a little less than five minutes had just passed. She considers calling her once more for any updates; but not wanting to risk being a possible distraction in case Dina is needed in the moment, she ultimately decides against doing so and instead wills her feet to move faster. 

Unwelcome thoughts begin to involuntarily flood Ellie’s mind as she sprints. 

She thinks of the last time you’d seen each other: that night of your heart-to-heart dinner with Jesse at Sterling’s. It felt almost fated for her and Dina to walk into the same restaurant at the same time that the two of you had been meeting. Ellie recalls the identical look of dismay on both of your faces, equally overwhelmed at the sight of one another. She can still feel the angry yet doleful tears that fell down her red cheeks as she stormed away from the diner, threatening to expose endless repressed feelings of remorse and heartache. 

She remembers the day she saw your sudden reunion with Abby Anderson, you dressed in that beautiful floral sundress and very obviously flirting with the tall, muscular blonde. Her nails were so angrily digging into her palms at the sight of you two that she can still feel the phantom marks that had nearly drawn blood. She’d nearly frightened Dina, who was lounging on the living room couch with a joint in hand, when she busted into her and Jesse’s apartment with immediate choice words that were aroused by her unbridled anger. 

She recalls the last time you’d actually spoken to one other directly after that miserable, unfortunate night of the Sigma Eta party, how taken aback she was at how you were still so undeniably beautiful underneath the pale moonlight. Having been sitting on the hood of her Jeep while she watched in amusement at your futile attempts to keep yourself warm, she thinks of the way your eyes were furiously and desperately trying to avoid her piercing ocean green gaze. The memory of the angry, fleeting look you’d given Daniela when you’d obviously noticed Joel’s old motorcycle jacket resting on her shoulders is one she can never forget; nor could she the air of raw, bitter indignation that radiated off you at the sight of one of your signature lavender joints nestled in between Daniela’s lips. 

She can still feel the visceral rage that sparked inside her from Frat Guy Adam’s casual cruelty towards you, followed by feelings of heartbreak at watching the way your face had fallen at his words. The sheer remorse from pathetically having done nothing right when it happened still weighs on her. Ellie can never forget the simultaneous feelings of shame and comfort she’d felt after your heated encounter with her in the bathroom of Sterling’s: shame from being forcibly confronted with a reminder of the deepest regret of her whole life; and comfort at finally being able to see with her own ocean green eyes, after so long, the face of a person she once adored more than she did anyone else in the world. 

Maybe even still. 

Ellie eventually finds herself at the intersection right where her shared apartment with Jesse is located. Her hasty pursuit is frustratingly impeded when she’s stopped by the angry, glowing red hand at the crosswalk she needs to get past to reach Orchards, cars endlessly coming one after the other. For a few moments, she’s at least able to catch a much-needed, painful breath.

While she bounces up and down on her feet in impatience, very seriously contemplating running across anyway and risking being hit by a speeding car, Ellie thinks of one thing and one thing only: the first moment her eyes met yours all those years ago. The moment when she knew, deep down and instinctively, that everything had changed. 

She’s brutally broken out of her brief reverie by the blaring of sirens booming from around the corner. Her head immediately shoots towards the sound and she watches as two ambulances with flashing red and white lights speed down the road and towards what she believes is the direction of the nearest emergency room. 

Ellie wastes no time bolting down the crosswalk the millisecond that the orange pedestrian signal finally blinks to white, sprinting down the street of Orchards. She’s somehow able to spot Dina’s figure in the middle of a small crowd of people gathered next to the restaurant and immediately sprints towards her. By the time Ellie is able to reach her, most of the unfamiliar bystanders have dispersed with whispers. Her heart races as she sees Dina’s cheeks wet and dripping endlessly with tears. 

“Dina!” Ellie huffs, using the last of her breath and energy to dash to her side. 

“Ellie!” Dina sighs in relief upon spotting her friend. 

They envelop each other in a tight embrace, Dina hiccuping slightly into Ellie’s shoulder. 

“What happened? Did you guys make it in time? Is she okay? Where is she? Where’s Jesse?” Ellie rambles. 

“Sh-she’s okay, I think,” Dina stammers. “She was breathing when Jesse got here, but her pulse was really slow. The paramedics got here a few minutes after Jesse did.” 

She sloppily wipes her eyes with the back of her hands before continuing. 

“They said that the EpiPen probably saved her life, said that she would have had a lot less of a chance if we had just waited for them to arrive. Expired EpiPen was apparently better than nothing, as long as it wasn’t too far off from when it did expire.” 

Ellie takes a relieved breath in at hearing this. 

“Thank god. Thank fucking god. That’s what I thought, but I-I honestly wasn’t sure. I couldn’t remember clearly in the moment.” 

“How did you even know that?” Dina asks her in genuine curiosity. 

“I-I… wh-when we were, you know, t-together…” Ellie mutters awkwardly. “I made sure to know, j-just in case.” 

“Oh, Ellie…” 

Ellie wrings her hands together and clears her throat in embarrassment. 

“So where’s Jess? Where’s Anderson?” She asks, changing the subject and voice dripping in disdain at the last word. 

“Jesse rode in the ambulance with her and the paramedics, and Abby said that she’d follow behind in her car,” Dina replies. “I stayed behind ‘cause I figured you were on your way and I wanted to be able to tell you what happened in person.” 

“Thank you, D, seriously.” 

Dina stares at Ellie earnestly for a moment. 

“You really do still love her.” Dina says, not as a question but as a statement. 

Ellie doesn’t respond to this remark, her lips tight and her ocean green eyes unreadable. 

“Come on. Let’s go see her.” 

You had been brought to St. Peter’s Hospital, the closest one located to your university. When Ellie and Dina had gotten there, they found Jesse sitting alone in the mostly empty waiting room. He was staring up at the dreary off-white ceiling, his left leg nervously bouncing up and down as one of his hands gripped his right knee. When he spots the two girls enter the room, he immediately jumps out of his seat to meet them. He pulls his girlfriend into a tight embrace and gives her a tender kiss on the forehead, and then he places a firm and reassuring hand on his best friend’s shoulder. 

“How is she?” Ellie asks nervously. 

“Unconcious still, but she’s alive,” Jesse replies somberly. “The paramedics in the ambulance told me that they were pumping her full of adrenaline; and so now, they’re either still doing that or they’re just trying to get her heart rate back to normal. Apparently, her tongue was so swollen and her throat closed up completely, so they’ve got to reopen her airways ‘cause she’s having a hard time breathing.” 

“Oh, god…” Dina chokes out. 

“Don’t worry, D.” Jesse consoles. “She’s gonna be fine. She’s strong, and we know that. They’re taking care of her, and she’ll hopefully be awake soon.” 

“I know, I know…” Dina sniffles. “It’s really not like me to fall apart like this. But she’s like a sister to me, you know. I mean, she basically is.” 

“Me too, babe. Don’t worry. We all love her too. No need to explain.” Jesse says. 

Dina gives him a soft smile as he gives her another tender forehead kiss. Watching such a small but affectionate scene between the two makes Ellie feel as if she’s intruding on a private moment she shouldn’t be witnessing. Jealousy in the form of a knife in the stomach twists inside her while her heart aches to feel that kind of intimacy. 

“Oh, shit, I should call her uncle,” Dina suddenly realizes, pulling away from Jesse slightly. “I think I still have his number from freshman year. He should know what’s going on.” 

“Good idea.” Jesse agrees. “He’s one of her emergency contacts, but I’m not sure if he knows just yet.” 

“I’ll call the girls too,” She continues, referring to the other girls who lived in the Wilson Valley building with you and Dina during your freshman year. “I know that they’ll also want to know.” 

She pulls her phone out of her pocket before muttering a quick “be right back” and exiting the waiting room. 

Jesse and Ellie watch her walk out silently. After a moment or two, Jesse speaks up. 

“Are you okay, El?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Come on, man. Don’t do that. You know what I mean.” 

“I’m fine, Jess.” 

“Dude.” 

“What?” 

Jesse turns his whole body to face Ellie straight on, crossing his arms against his chest and frowning. 

“You’re completely red in the face, you look the most stressed out than I’ve ever seen you, and you’re here.” 

“So?” Ellie replies stubbornly. 

“Williams.” Jesse stresses sternly. “You know Dina and I saw everything you had in that desk drawer.” 

Ellie says nothing in reply and Jesse continues. 

“You literally still had her old EpiPen from like, two years ago. That entire drawer was full of her shit.” 

Ellie clenches her jaw and balls up her fists. 

“You still have all those old letters she used to write you all the time, all these mementos and knickknacks from when you two were together. You even have Barbie Bear.” Jesse points out. “Do you know that she’s been chewing Dina out nonstop about her for years because she thinks Dina stole her?” 

“Look, she and I just stopped talking to each other all of a sudden before sophomore year. I never had an actual chance to give her all of her shit back—” 

“You literally could have given them to me or Dina or even any of the Wilson girls so we could return them.” 

“Look—” 

“And what about the rest of it? Shit that you didn’t have to actually give back to her? It’s been years. You could have easily thrown it all out.” 

“You don’t understa—” 

“You didn’t even bother leaving all that shit back home in Jackson. You brought it all here with you to keep in our apartment.” 

“I… I—” 

“She could have fucking died tonight, El. And you’re still bullshitting me.” 

“Jesse.” Ellie croaks out through quivering lips and watery eyes. 

“You saved her life. She could have very well been in a worse state right now if it weren’t for you. You told me and Dina what to do. Nobody told you to do any of that. And by the sorry state of you, it looks like you just ran three marathons in a row just to get here and make sure she was okay in person.” 

Tears threaten to flow down from Ellie’s ocean green eyes, and it takes every ounce of strength that she has left in her to will them not to fall. 

“She means so, so much to me and Dina. And to a whole bunch of other people too. When she gets hurt, we feel that shit too.” Jesse says. “I need you to get your motherfucking shit together, Williams. Now.” 

Before Ellie can even form some kind of thought in response to his declaration, Dina suddenly reenters the waiting room. 

“Called her uncle and told him everything I know. He’s currently looking up the first flight out and he’ll hopefully be here sometime tomorrow.” Dina informs the pair as she walks over. “Just got off the phone with Astrid too. Most of the girls are either busy or asleep by now, but she said she’ll let them know too as soon as possible. If she’s awake tomorrow, they’ll try to come by to pay her a visit.” 

“Okay, good.” Jesse nods in response. “Thanks for doing that, D. I was so focused on what’s been going on, and none of that even crossed my mind.” 

“They deserved to know.” Dina smiles sadly before suddenly frowning. “But why did she even go into anaphylactic shock in the first place? They both asked me, but I realized that you never actually told either of us and I didn’t really know what to tell them.” 

“She and Anderson were making out, and Anderson had eaten some seafood bouillabaisse for dinner. Apparently, it had a bunch of chopped-up shrimp in it that she couldn’t see.” Jesse says plainly. 

Dina inadvertently glances at Ellie in slight sympathy, but Jesse looks at her with zero remorse on his face. 

“She didn’t tell Abby that she was really allergic?” Dina asks. 

“Anderson apparently had no idea, said that she wouldn’t have ordered it if she knew in the first place.” Jesse clarified. 

“Anderson should have fucking double-checked re-fucking-gardless.” Ellie angrily interjects. 

“It’s not Abby’s fault, Ellie. There’s no way she could have just known instinctively.” Dina reasons. 

“Doesn’t matter. Isn’t she studying to be a fucking doctor? Isn’t that some basic shit that they teach at med school or whatever? She should have known better.” Ellie seethes. “Where the fuck is she, anyway? I thought she came along.” 

“She went down to the food court for a breather.” Jesse says. 

“Oh, she needs a breather?” Ellie sneers. “Yeah, go ahead and catch your breath when the person you almost killed tonight can’t even fucking breathe—” 

“Ellie!” Dina scolds. 

“Whatever.” Ellie scoffs. 

“El,” Dina suddenly brings up. “Have you talked to Daniela yet?” 

“What about her?” Ellie asks. 

“Weren’t you supposed to meet up with her…” Dina checks the time on her phone. “... almost an hour ago?” 

“So?” 

“Ellie.” 

Ellie clicks her tongue. 

“Fine, let me text her right now that I won’t make it—” She begins to say begrudgingly, but she cuts herself off as someone else enters the waiting room. 

Abby Anderson quietly walks through the door, sipping a plain black coffee from a styrofoam cup. She looks up from her drink and gives Jesse an awkward but polite smile which he respectfully returns along with a nod. 

Ellie’s entire body goes cold with frigid, icy hatred, exacerbated when her furious ocean green eyes suddenly meet with Abby Anderson’s tired sky blue ones. 

“Actually,” Ellie suddenly says. “I’m gonna give her a call and see if she’s still free to meet up tonight. I still want my jacket back.” 

Both Dina and Jesse look as if they’re each about to interject with a response, but Ellie is too quick for either of them to say a word. 

Ellie storms out of the waiting room, not giving a second look at Abby Anderson. 

Ellie throws Joel’s old leather jacket onto her bed, sighing softly. She sheds her sweaty grey hoodie and throws it down next to the jacket before pulling her phone out. She proceeds to call Jesse, but she’s greeted with ten, empty-sounding buzzes before being redirected to his voicemail. She then attempts to call Dina but is greeted with an immediate automated message stating that the call could not be completed. 

Groaning in exasperation, Ellie collapses into her desk chair and roughly kicks off her Converse. After a moment or two, she notices the bottom-most drawer of her desk and the way it’s hanging off the frame precariously. Sighing, she crouches down on the floor and begins to rearrange its previous contents. 

At first, she shoves items back into the drawer at random, but she immediately pauses once her hand grazes across the fur of a pink stuffed animal. 

Barbie Bear. 

She picks up the stuffed animal and stares sadly into its plastic eyes. Noticing that the light pink ribbon around its neck has gotten loose, Ellie delicately attempts to retie it back into a bow. After a couple of lopsided tries, she’s eventually satisfied once she’s able to center the ribbon correctly. She carefully places Barbie Bear back into the drawer before returning to restore its contents with more consideration. 

After replacing a few pairs of old earrings of yours into a small box, she picks up a stack of old letters that she’d tied together with a piece of brown twine. Ellie resists the urge to go through each of them, but when she notices that one had fallen out of the stack and is now lying on the floor, her willpower dwindles almost instantly. 

Ellie picks up the envelope gingerly, almost as if she’s afraid that her touch will cause it to burst into flames. She reads her name on the front written with green ink and flips it over to where the flap of the envelope is torn open. She runs her fingers over the wax seal that had secured the letter inside: the design of Saturn amongst several stars. Nervously, she slips the card out from inside and unfolds it to reveal your handwriting. 

Dear Ellie, 

It is currently 4:27 A.M. and I can’t sleep, and for some reason, I can’t stop watching that story you posted on Instagram earlier over and over. The one of you singing and playing your electric guitar to that Aaron Taylor song. Not to be gay as fuck, but it is so easy to get lost in the sound of your voice. Also, I really like your lips. And your hands. 

I know I said this yesterday already, but you’ve been overworking yourself way too much lately. I’m glad that you’ve been putting a lot of effort into your schoolwork, but have you eaten? When was the last time you had a full meal (microwaveable ramen does not count)? Have you been taking any time for yourself? It’s really sweet that you still make time to come hang out with me most days, but you need some you time too, you know. 

Not that I don’t love seeing your goofy face all the time. I don’t know, I think me writing all that out is me casually acknowledging that I have attachment issues and attempting to work on it. Oh, well. I’m pretty attached to you, fucking dork. 

Okay, heading to bed now. Hopefully, I’ll actually be able to fall asleep this time. But hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow (I know I just said that you need to take more time for yourself, but shut up). You’re always the best part of my day. 

Ellie can’t seem to let herself read the final piece of the letter, the part where you’d signed your name. 

She delicately folds the card once more and places it back into its envelope. Turning it over in her hand and tenderly running her fingers over where you’d addressed her name, she wonders if your handwriting is still the same as it was all those years ago. 

Reluctantly, Ellie tucks the letter back into the stack before tying them all securely together once more. 

Earlier That Evening 

Ellie was fifty-two minutes late to her supposed “date” with Daniela. This was Ellie’s third failed attempt at reacquiring Joel’s old motorcycle jacket, and they had previously decided to meet up outside the coffee shop on campus where Daniela recently started working after the end of her shift. 

But after Ellie’s unexplained absence from their meeting, Daniela bitterly stormed back home to her dorm. She had half a mind to say no when Ellie called her with a half-assed explanation and asked if she could come over to retrieve her jacket. But after giving in, Ellie arrived at her dorm room within half an hour. 

It wasn’t a total shock to Ellie when she was greeted with a look of annoyance when Daniela opened the door for her. Ellie attempted to feign a guilty expression, but all that she could muster was an indifferent grimace. Daniela said nothing as she silently beckoned Ellie to follow her and come in, an AirPod playing music loudly in one ear. 

Ellie took a quick glance around the place, never having actually been inside Daniela’s room before. The twin-size beds, old wooden dressers, and scuffed-up desks were an all-too-familiar sight for Ellie, having gone through the same torturous experience herself only a couple of years back in her freshman year. But a few things were different as Daniela and her roommate had attempted to really personalize their living area. Ellie tried not to make a face of repulsion when spotting a few Taylor Swift concert posters above one of the desks. 

Daniela plopped onto, what Ellie had assumed was, her bed but made no gesture that welcomed Ellie to do the same. She merely stared at her passively as Ellie tried to avoid looking her directly in the eye. 

“You’re an hour late.” Daniela pointed out. 

“Only fifty-two minutes late.” Ellie attempted to joke. 

Daniela only hummed in response, unsmiling. She picked up a faded brown jacket that was sitting on top of her pillow by the collar and handed it over to Ellie. 

“Thanks,” Ellie muttered, tucking the jacket under her arm. “Uh, thanks a lot for looking after it. Needed it back ‘cause it’s really my dad’s old jacket.” 

“Oh, sorry. I would have given it back sooner if I knew that.” Daniela replied, not sounding the least bit sorry. 

“It’s okay.” Ellie mumbled awkwardly. 

There was an uncomfortable moment or two of complete silence where Daniela continued to merely gaze at Ellie, unwavering and unapologetic, while Ellie focused her eyes on her Converse as she wrung her hands together. 

“Hey, look…” Ellie eventually spoke up. “I really am sorry about being late. I just had a really important emergency that I had to deal with.” 

“It’s fine,” Daniela replied remorselessly. “Tara told me that you suddenly had to deal with some shit.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“Tara. Tara Maclay. She works with me at Ruston.” 

“Oh, right.” 

Another awkward moment of silence. 

“Your ex-girlfriend, right?” Daniela asks unexpectedly. 

“What?” 

“Your ex-girlfriend. The shit you had to deal with tonight.” 

“Oh, uh…” 

“No point in lying, Ellie.” Daniela shrugged. “Tara already told me the gist.” 

“Oh. What did she say exactly?” 

“Not much. Said that you needed to help deal with something for someone you both know. She didn’t tell me exactly that it was your ex-girlfriend, but it was pretty obvious. I read between the lines.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“She really shouldn’t have told you all that.” 

“She was ranting to another co-worker and I overheard your name and I was curious.” Daniela shrugged again, unabashed. 

Another awkward moment of silence. 

“So you still into your ex or something, Ellie?” Daniela spoke up again. 

“She’s not really my ex-girlfriend.” 

“Whatever.” 

Another awkward moment of silence. 

“Well?” Daniela asked. 

“It’s kind of complicated.” 

“That’s just the bullshit way of saying yes,” Daniela rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t matter if she’s your ‘ex’ or whatever.” 

“Look, Daniela—” 

“I know we aren’t serious or whatever, but I don’t really feel like dealing with someone else’s ex drama.” 

“There’s no drama. I don’t even speak to her anymore.” 

“And yet you ditched me to go and help her out with something earlier.” 

“It’s not like that. And it was also an emergency.” 

“So you said.” 

Ellie wasn’t sure why she felt the need to explain herself to a girl she barely knew. Part of her felt compelled to do so as if she could continue to actively ignore her feelings by saying these things out loud. 

Another awkward moment of silence. 

“God, you’re such an asshole fuckboy, Ellie.” 

“Hey, what the fuck—” 

“You know that you can get girls and do, but you just like to fuck around with them and play with their feelings.” 

“Alright, first of all, you said yourself that we’re nothing serious. We’ve barely even done anything.” Ellie said defensively. “Second, I literally just said that I don’t even talk to her anymore! Not even tonight!” 

Ellie scoffed as Daniela rolled her eyes once more. 

“Look,” Ellie continued through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry that I was late tonight. And I get it if your feelings are hurt. But nothing’s happening between me and my ex.” 

“You just said that she wasn’t your ex.” 

“Sh-she’s— she’s not, she’s—” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Daniela muttered as stood up from her bed. “At this point, I’m over it, and I really don’t give a fuck anymore. You’re hot and all, Ellie. But this is not worth it.” 

She popped an AirPod in her ear once more and sauntered over to the door. 

“Word of advice. Figure out your feelings for this ‘ex’ of yours and decide if you actually wanna be with her or not before getting involved with anyone else. Nobody deserves that hanging over their head, especially when you’re so clearly still in love with her.” 

And with that, Daniela opened the door and peered at her expectantly. Ellie took the hint and walked towards her direction and through the doorway. Before Ellie could fully turn around and give any parting words, Daniela shut the door in her face. 

Present 

Ellie collapses onto her bed next to Joel’s old motorcycle jacket. She pulls her phone out again, contemplating calling Jesse and Dina once more. But realizing they’ll probably call her if they have anything important that they feel she needs to know, she drops the phone down to her side in defeat. 

She continues to lay in her bed for a while, stewing in her unresolved feelings with nobody to confide in. Closing her eyes, her mind begins to race against her will with reminders of the path life led her down after you. 

First was Marisol. Less than two months into sophomore year of college, Jesse and Dina were completely aghast to see Ellie walking around campus with a girl they’d never seen her with before. She was in Ellie’s Aerospace Engineering class, and Ellie had claimed to have had an eye on her since last year. Jesse and Dina watched helplessly as their friend flaunted her new girlfriend around everywhere for the next couple of months. 

Ellie wasn’t initially sure what it was that attracted her to Marisol in the first place. She was naturally beautiful with her long, black hair and slender figure, and she was the textbook definition of a perfect girlfriend. It took two and a half months of overly extravagant dates and bouquets of Marisol’s favourite flowers and late nights spent at her dorm room for Ellie to understand what it was about Marisol that she was drawn to: it was her eyes. Down to the specks in her irises and how her eyelids curved, Marisol’s eyes resembled yours far too well. After coming to this harrowing realization, Ellie quickly broke things off with her tactlessly and with a half-assed, mostly untrue justification. 

The next was Luz who she had met during her near-daily workouts at the gym with Jesse. Ellie spent several autumn weeks with them, allowing Luz to whisk her about to different parties with different groups of friends every weekend. But one fateful night when they had dragged Ellie to a party at the same Sigma Eta frat house where you’d both first met, a bad acid trip cemented the end of her time with Luz. 

As Ellie’s dilated pupils focused intensely on Luz’s black boots, a pair very similar to your favourites, she felt a sensation begin to roughly tug at something inside her. From her spot on the living room couch, her eyes darted up to a spot by the wall where a small group of partygoers were congregating. She zeroed in on a random girl she’d never seen before whose multi-coloured features, as a result of LSD brain fog, began to morph into those of someone she was desperately trying to forget.

Once the last parts of the stranger’s face had fully formed to impersonate yours, she abruptly stood up from her slouched position on the couch, muttered an excuse to Luz about using the bathroom, and desperately begged Jesse to come pick her up immediately. After Jesse helped her click on her seatbelt in the passenger seat with a tight-lipped expression where he fought the urge to remind her of the significance of this house, Ellie never looked back and swore never to trip on acid again, subsequently ghosting Luz after that night. 

A couple of weeks before winter break, she met a sweet and quiet girl named Simi. They met through a dating app during one of Ellie’s crossfaded swiping sprees at 2 in the morning. Ellie’s affair with her was extremely short-lived, ending things with her a day before everyone left campus to head home for the holidays. While spending the day hanging out at Simi’s dorm room as her new girlfriend packed for her trip home, Ellie suddenly and unfairly started a fight with her after Simi had begun to mindlessly sing the song “Merry Christmas Darling” under her breath. 

Ellie had unkindly demanded for her to “shut up” immediately, understandably hurting Simi’s feelings. The fight was short and confusing, as Ellie had refused to elaborate on her sudden explosion. As she unceremoniously marched out of the dorm room, Ellie aggressively tried to suppress memories of you singing that same Carpenters song on a loop all of December of the previous year. You’d claimed you couldn’t get it out of your head and needed to sing it out loud at least fifty times a day so you could stop thinking about it. Though Ellie had playfully cussed you out and thrown several pillows at you on multiple occasions, that song now belonged to you forever and nobody else. 

After Simi were strings of countless others, some who had used Ellie as their brief college lesbian experience and many whose names Ellie would never be able to recall. She never hooked up with the same person more than twice, never actually took another one out for an actual date until Daniela. 

Ellie had found Daniela incredibly pretty when she’d first laid eyes on her on a warm September afternoon earlier in the year. She was lounging on the quad as Dina did her homework and Jesse lazily strummed his guitar when a group of freshmen walked by. Ellie hadn’t spared them a glance until one of the girls approached her, all shy and giggly, and said that one of her friends found Ellie very cute. After pointing Daniela out and asking for her number, Ellie shrugged and relented. She ignored Dina and Jesse’s identical judgmental looks and eye-rolls in her peripheral vision. 

Ellie enjoyed the undivided attention of someone completely enamoured by her. Daniela was constantly responsive, did whatever Ellie wanted to do, and was always so eager to please her. Ellie’d bring her to the movies, go on long drives with her in her Jeep, take her to whatever restaurants she’d want to eat at. 

To anyone who keenly observed when they were together, it was quite obvious who was far more invested between the two. Despite spending an ample amount of time with her in the past month or so, Ellie continued to keep Daniela at arm’s length. On multiple occasions when Ellie’d convinced Jesse and Dina to allow Daniela to accompany them, the long-time couple would watch how disconnected their friend was from this new girl she’d been seeing.

Dina would constantly give Jesse a raised eyebrow look that silently would ask, “Is she really serious?” to which Jesse would give her a tight-lipped, wordless grimace that replied with “We both know she’s a fucking dumbass.” They both placed bets on when exactly Ellie would eventually ditch this new girlfriend. 

Unbeknownst to them, it’s Ellie who was so easily discarded this time around. Feeling so unmoved and unaffected about the split with Daniela, Ellie tries to feel some kind of guilt over her lack of reciprocation. It’s her own actions, after all, that landed her dumped in the first place. She’s never fully seen Daniela as an actual girlfriend, and she knows full well that she shouldn’t have strung her along. 

But as she continues to lay in her bed, ocean green eyes shut and a hand woven through her auburn locks, she thinks of only you. 

Ellie can’t remember a single moment in her life when she’s felt more in need of another person’s company than she does at this very moment. Unable to trouble Dina to be her listening ear as she always is or bother Jesse to bluntly set her straight as usual, she feels the loneliness of the gloomy, dark room creep into her guilty conscience. 

Her fingers begin to mindlessly search her bedsheets as she continues to stare at her decrepit bedroom ceiling, seeking for her silver joint box that had fallen out of her pocket when she’d collapsed on her bed. Instead of the feel of cold metal, her hand comes across something smooth and warm. Pulling the brown leather jacket up to her face, Ellie’s mind murmurs a single word. 

Joel. 

She pulls her phone out to search for her father’s face within her favourite contacts. She hesitates for a moment but pushes herself to call. 

Joel picks up after only two rings. 

“Ellie? Jesus, kiddo, what the hell time is it?” 

“Hello to you too, old man.” Ellie chuckles. 

“Everythin’ alright?” Joel’s voice asks, tired but urgent. 

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I guess.” 

Ellie can almost hear her father sitting up straight in bed. 

“What’s wrong, Ellie?” 

“I-I…” She stutters. “Joel…” 

With a whimpering tone, she suddenly recounts the night’s events in complete detail. Joel listens attentively, only ever interrupting with sharp intakes of breath and hushed, imperceptible asides. After listening to his daughter’s sorrowful spiel, he finally speaks. 

“Oh, baby girl…” Joel utters. “I truly am sorry. It’s been a real rough night for all of y’all.” 

“Yeah…” 

“That poor kid… I’m glad she had you three lookin’ out for her tonight.” 

Ellie says nothing to this, pursing her lips. 

“How about you, Ellie?” Joel continues. “How are you feelin’ after everythin’ that’s happened?” 

“I-I’m not really sure. I’m not sure I know how to feel.” 

“That’s okay. You don’t have to just yet. It just happened and all.” 

“All I feel is so much fucking guilt, Joel. It feels like my mind is empty but overflowing all at the same time. I feel so motherfucking powerless and I don’t know what to do.” 

There’s a moment of silence before her father speaks again. 

“You given any thought to the conversation we had before you left for school, kiddo?” 

Last August: Jackson 

Ellie’s bedroom was full of boxes and bags packed with everything she planned to bring to college for her junior year. The space was slightly more barren, closet mostly empty and trinkets missing from her shelves. It was only a couple more days before she, Dina, and Jesse would be making their journey back to their university, and she was uncharacteristically ahead of schedule. 

Leaning against her desk with a box full of comic books on the floor next to her, she was casually perusing an old graphic novel when Joel appeared in her open doorway. 

“Knock, knock.” 

“The door’s open, old man. Also, you can literally just walk in, you know.” 

“Who raised you to have so much cheek against your elders, kid?” 

“You, dude.” 

The pair smirked at each other’s smart-mouthed retorts. 

“Need any help packin’ up?” 

“Nah. It’s pretty much done except for a handful of essentials.” 

“Including that book you’re holdin’ right now?” 

“Like I said: essentials.” 

Joel chuckled. 

“Well, the Changs sent over some dinner for us, if you want some. Wisa made K-kaw… Khao Tom Pa… no, Plah…” Joel stuttered, making an effort to pronounce the Thai dish correctly. “Khao Tom Plah, that’s it. She brought some over earlier, thought we might want some. She even made it without the prawns, just the way you like it.” 

“Sick. She’s the best. I’ll text Jesse later to thank her.” 

“Good.” 

Joel lingered as Ellie went back to reading her comic, wistfully looking around his daughter’s nearly vacated bedroom. His eyes fell on a small box sitting at the foot of Ellie’s bed. It was an ordinary, cardboard box just as the others were, except it was heavily sealed with multiple layers of silver duct tape. He frowned. 

“Still plannin’ on bringin’ that box?” 

“What do you mean?” Ellie asked, knowing exactly what her father was referring to without looking up. 

“You know you can just leave it here at home, right? It ain’t like I go through your doohickeys when you ain’t here.” 

“So you do go through my shit when I am here?” 

“Ellie.” 

“What?” 

“Why the hell are you doing this to yourself, kid?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“We’ve been having this same conversation for the past year now.” 

Ellie finally peeled her eyes away from her graphic novel, tossing it on the desk behind her and crossing her arms. 

“You’re the one who keeps bringing it up, Joel.” 

“I bring it up because I know that you ain’t been talkin’ about these feelings with anyone. Not me or Jesse or Dina. It’s been a year since you ditched that poor girl, and you’re still sulkin’ over it.” 

“She ditched me.” 

“Hold your horses; we both know that ain’t true.” 

“What do you want from me, old man?” 

“I want you to be happy, kiddo.” 

“What makes you think I’m not happy?” 

“Now, don’t try to bullshit me. You can grumble and deny it ‘til the cows come home, but even after all this time, all you ever do is brood and pine after that girl. Plain as day to anyone. You ain’t been the same since y’all broke up.” 

“We weren’t together.” 

“Yes, you were.” 

Joel ignored his daughter’s subsequent eye-roll before continuing. 

“You still have the box, Ellie.” 

“I just forgot I even had it.” 

“And yet, you’re bringin’ it to school with you, just like you did last year. Why?” 

“It was just in my closet stuffed in with all this other shit I don’t touch. Had to take it out while I was packing.” 

“That ain’t amount to a hill o’ beans. And you still ain’t answer my question.” 

“Sorry, dude.” 

“Ellie. You and I would down to Beacon Run all the damn time back when you were growin’ up. You used to beg me to go for dinner whenever you had a hankerin’ to order that cheesy crab dip with all those chips and jalapeños and such.” 

Ellie raised her eyebrow, unsure where her father was going with this. 

“Then all of a sudden, a few years ago, you seemed to hate the place. You’ll maybe get a plate of fries and nothin’ else. Matter of fact, I can’t, for the life of me, recall the last time I’ve seen you eat a plate of seafood with any kind of shellfish in it.” 

Joel’s greying eyes pierced Ellie’s ocean green. 

“Two years.” He continued. “It’s been two years. You almost never eat any kind of seafood no more, and even the Changs never cook us anythin’ that has shrimps or scallops or anythin’ of the like.”

Joel watched as his daughter stubbornly struggled to justify herself. He sighed sadly. 

“I wish you’d let yourself be happy, Ellie. You could be.” 

“That so? How do you figure that?” 

“First step is admitting exactly what is clear as day to everyone around you.” 

“Oh, yeah? And what is that?” 

Present Day 

“J-Joel… I-I…” Ellie sobs. “I love her.” 

“I know, baby girl.” 

Joel helplessly listens to his daughter’s desperate weeping from the other end of the line. 

“So,” He eventually asks in between her snivels. “What now?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” She sniffs. 

“Kiddo, why do you think your feelings don’t matter?” 

“Because relationships do not work for me. Love doesn’t work for me.” 

“Your relationship with her didn’t work. Past tense. It’s been years. It was a tough situation. You’re a different person now.” Joel clarifies. “And there’s plenty love ‘round you, kiddo. You got a lotta love in your life. I need you t’realize that.” 

“Except I-I’m not a different person, Joel. I-I am just an older, slightly more experienced version of myself. I-I…” Ellie stutters. “I’m afraid.” 

“Of course you are, kid. It’s only natural.” Joel replies. “But you can’t live your whole life closed off from the rest of the world. You need and deserve love, Ellie.” 

“Except I don’t, Joel! I fucking don’t!” She cries. “God, y-you just, you just don’t understand!” 

“What don’t I understand?” 

“She almost fucking died!” Ellie nearly screams. 

A silence falls between the two, only broken by Ellie’s hot and angry tears noisily dropping onto the old leather jacket. She grips it tightly in one hand before continuing. 

“I-if… if none of it happened… if I d-didn’t do all that to h-her all those years ago…” She stutters between shaky lips. “M-maybe she wouldn’t be where she is now. She wouldn’t have gone on a date w-with someone who didn’t know about…” 

Ellie chokes back a sob. 

“I-I… I would have known. I would have t-taken care of her. I would never have—” 

“Ellie.” 

“She needed me, and I… I let her down. Not just tonight. All those years ago. I couldn’t be what she needed. I fucking failed her.” 

“It’s not that simple, kid.” 

“Yes, it is! Her cousin fucking died! He was her whole fucking world, and she loved him more than anything, and he fucking died and I… I ran. I abandoned her.” 

The blurry memory of your sleeping figure in the passenger seat of Ellie’s Jeep appears in front of her, wrapped up cozily in her flannel as she drives you home from Jackson and naive to what lies ahead. 

“I know… I know what I’m capable of, Joel. I loved her so much all those years ago and… I still hurt her. I hurt her so fucking badly.” 

Your image transforms to one of you awake and livid, Ellie’s flannel torn off and tears streaming down your face. Anger and betrayal are etched all over your face, just like they were all those years ago. The shame she’d felt back then is incomparable to what she feels now. 

“I don’t ever want to do that to her again, ever. I just can’t. I won’t.” 

Joel sighs deeply before finally speaking. 

“Ellie. That fear is always gonna be there. But you’re young, and we make plenty of mistakes in our youth. God knows how much of my past I used to regret.” 

Ellie takes deep breaths as her father continues to speak. 

“Everythin’ that happened tonight? None of it was your fault. In fact, I reckon you’re the reason she’s still livin’ and breathin’ right now. I’m proud of you for that.” 

“All I did was—” 

“All you did was save her life.” 

Ellie sniffles but doesn’t respond. 

“Look, kiddo,” Joel continues. “As someone who has known you for a very long time, I know how much of a good heart you got. You’re a lovin’ person who deserves love. I wish you could believe that.” 

The sound of people entering through the front door echoes all around the empty apartment, but Ellie hears nothing else but the sound of her own agonized sobs. 

author’s notes:

belle posting TWO chapters of ncty within less than two weeks of each other??? what is this, may 2023???

saury for not posting this right away like promised yesterday, like i said, going thru some shit rn! but i hope y'all enjoyed regardless ♥︎

i'll give you a kiss on the mouth if you guess the bollywood movie i vaguely reference at the beginning of the chapter :)

the idea of reader being allergic to shellfish and going into anaphylactic shock came to me one day a while back when i was eating something with shrimp and randomly remembered that i am very allergic to shellfish and instead of being like, "i should go take some medicine immediately", i thought, "hmm this would be a wild plot point for ncty" LMFAOOOO

anyway, this is your reminder that if you have an epipen, don't be stupid, bring that shit with you wherever you go sldkfjsdl

the more of jesse that i include in this series, the more i enjoy writing him. he's such a fun character to write hehe

i thought having abby sipping on some hot, black coffee when ellie fucking canonically hates coffee was so hilarious, i pat myself on the fucking back for that one

yes i also pat myself on the back for the line regarding ellie's ocean green eyes and abby's sky blue ones. i fucking love parallels and symbolism. i'm a whore for them, in fact.

btw dina doesn't respond to ellie's phone call bc her phone died (prob from facetiming ellie for that long earlier in the night) and idk, jesse's either not paying attention or being petty LMFAO

the reappearance of barbie bearrrrr, my babyyyy. idk if y'all remember, but yes, barbie bear is a reference to the actual stuffed pink bear i sleep with every night named barbie. i had planned since chapter 4 (which is the chapter barbie bear is first mentioned) for ellie to have had her this whole time because i'm a fucking lunatic LOL

i mentioned in the author's notes section of the last chapter how reader's letterwriting hobby is inspired by me irl cause i do that all the time for friends, but reader's letter in this chapter is actually loosely based on a letter that soulmate ex wrote me, it's not word for word exactly, i altered it a bit to fit the story better, but it's very close because i'm INSANE, anyway

yes "i think i love you again" is on my playlist about my ex-girlfriend and "merry christmas darling" is on his playlist for me, go away

ellie's clear aversion to taylor swift is both a reference to a previous chapter where jesse subtly mentions her dislike for her and also to my personal belief that ellie really would not like her as a person or an artist at all irl lmfao

the names of all of ellie's ex gfs or whatever are inspired by something very specific but that's another heehee secret trivia that nobody else but me will ever know about (let's be real, i'll prob tell star later LOL)

i named jesse's mom after one of my fave co-workers hehe (and the dish she makes for them is thai bc my co-worker is from thailand)

ellie's declaration of love about reader that she makes to joel has also been a long time planned now, idk why i knew it was gonna be chapter 13 when i did it, but i just knew it was. it was always the plan for her to confess it out loud to joel first, above anyone else

the final conversation between ellie and joel is heavily inspired by a scene from one of my fave tv shows, crazy ex-girlfriend. the scene makes me bawl every time i watch it. please watch crazy ex-girlfriend. so good.

we really are thirteen chapters into this series, huh? crazy. anyway, love y'all. <3

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete

softbunlvr, @amitycat, @thefishymissy, @yevheniiaaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, elliesnumber1gf, @digit4lslut, tayyyystan, @emothurman, livvy-2000, abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn

@liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky, @qtefolleunpez, @libr4sonsa, @robinismywifee, villainousbear, scarlettadore, @vianna99, @g0n3girls, @totheblood, @embermdk, @awyunh

@kenz-ee, @marvelwomen-simp, @eleactric, @simpforellie, @jade-posts-sometimes, anxiouso, @nyrastar, @lillysbigwilly, @hopeless-y, @elliesbabygirl, @alexpritch

@thestarsanctuary, @aethelwyneleigh27, cass00x, @mulan-but-gay, @carmellie, @destielcore, tfuuka, @ellielover69, @ewwitsbella,

igoferalforelliewilliams, kissesforells, asteroidzzzn, 97cityy, joliettes, p1llowthoughtss, aouiaa, lez-zuha, ineffablefics, peepshake, lil-elliesgf, wex--12, ccinnamongrl, siriusblackrunmeover17, whenlostinthedarkness, feelsoseencantdream, bellasfavepansexual, mina-281, harrysslutsstuff, lil-elliesgf, p4ison1vy, eurewili, miksde

please note that i am no longer accepting requests to be added to the taglist, so if you would like to be notified when a new chapter comes out, please follow @belleloves and turn notifications on!