Author’s Note: Sorry I’ve been gone for so long! I’m back now :) This is an alternative version of the storyline from No Exit. Reblogs are great and if you got any ideas you want, I’ll write them :)
You showed up in heels.
The red ones.
Straps snapped, one already bending from the walk. You looked too put-together for the panic in the room. Mascara smudged under your eyes like war paint. A party girl in the middle of a kidnapping.
At least, that’s what they thought.
They didn’t know Ash had sent for you. That the fight you picked at the party, the drink you threw, the storm you disappeared into—it was all part of the plan. His plan. Yours.
You spot him leaning against the vending machine, hood up, eyes unreadable. But they flash when they meet yours. A silent nod. That’s all it takes.
You slide into the chaos like it’s a cocktail hour. The girl tied up in the van (not a kid this time, no—we’re rewriting that part—it’s a woman, gagged but still clawing at the tape like she has a chance). Darby’s already unraveling. Spinning. Suspicious. She always had too much hero complex for her own good.
You don’t speak to her. Not until it’s too late.
It all goes wrong. Or right. Depends on who’s watching.
Lars panics. Sandi bleeds. And Ash—Ash is inches from death when it happens. The scream rips through the storm like something feral. You’re already running.
You find him bleeding behind the SUV, his knife somewhere in the snow, his chest rising too fast. And Darby’s standing there. Shaking. Holding that nail gun like it means something.
“You were working with him?” she breathes.
You don’t answer.
“You lied to me—”
You step between them. “No. You just didn’t matter enough to be told the truth.”
And that’s when the fight begins.
Darby’s fast. Scrappy. Maybe she watched too many cop shows. Maybe she thought you were just a pretty face.
But she doesn’t know what you’ve done. Who trained you. Who shaped you.
Ash is watching from the ground—blood in his teeth, something wild in his eyes as you duck the first swing and slam your shoulder into Darby’s ribs. She hits the ground hard, but scrambles back up, snow streaked red now, her breaths ragged.
“I should’ve known,” she spits, backing toward the overturned sign.
You take your time.
“You were never the hero here,” you say.
And then—
The fight ends with a sound like nothing. A crack. A grunt. And Darby goes still, your hands on the tire iron, her chest stopped rising. You stand over her, hair tangled, blood soaking through your sleeve, and when you look up—
Ash is already on his feet.
You don’t speak as you leave.
Just torch the van. Ash lights the flare. You make sure no one finds the girl—woman—until it’s too late to link her back to you. Just another horror story in the snow.
By the time you’re in his truck, knuckles split and chest heaving, he’s already watching you like he could devour you whole.
“You came,” he says, voice rough.
You laugh. “You asked.”
Ash leans in, fingers brushing the blood on your jaw like it’s sacred. “You killed for me.”
You don’t correct him.
Because the truth is—you killed for you. For all the times someone like Darby looked at you and saw nothing but glitter and heels. For all the times you were underestimated. Controlled. Overlooked.
You kiss him like it’s war. Like it’s over. Like it’s just beginning.
i just watched no exit and I need ash in unexplainable ways.
Can you write something about ash x reader where she comes to the place from a party right after darby does but only this time she's not a civilian instead she's with ash (the rest don't know abt it) and has some personal grudges against darby.
The rest of the event take place as it is but ash doesn't die but Darby does (reader k!lls her) and ash and the reader escape.
(also let's pretend it's not a little girl he kidnapped but a woman. Makes it feel less guilty. Can you also add like some sort of a fight scene with darby and the reader.)
Summary: You have just gotten a new job as a bartender at your city’s most popular club ‘No Exit’. A coworker’s illness causes you to be placed in the VIP section of the club where you meet none other than the club’s owner, Ash. As you spend more time there, you start to realize that the club, and its owner, are much more than what they first appeared to be.
WARNINGS/TAGS (these are the tags for the whole series and are subject to change): Smut 18+, Violence, Blood, Death, Knife Play, Gun Play, BDSM, Rough Sex,, Minors DNI!
Word Count: 2598
You weaved through the people on the street, nearly knocking them over as you ran as fast as you could with the death traps women like to call heels on your feet. You had just gotten a new job at the city’s most popular nightclub and like an idiot you had slept through your alarm, body still not used to sleeping during the day and staying up through the night. You hadn’t actually started the job yet but you decided to try and acclimate to your new sleep schedule a week in advance. Clearly, it hadn’t worked the way you wanted it to.
You checked your phone as you ran, eyeing the time and willing it to move slower. You couldn’t be late your first day, you’d be fired on the spot. Some higher power must have been listening to your prayers because you made it to the nightclub with five minutes to spare before the start of your shift. The sign indicating the name of the club ‘No Exit’ was glowing and casting everything in a red hue, including you, as you approached. It was a bit of a creepy name for a club in your opinion, but hey, who were you to judge?
The bouncer at the front recognized you as you approached and waved you through, having met you a couple days ago when Darby, the manager, had given you a walk through. You quickly deposited your stuff in the back room and gave yourself a quick once over in the mirror hoping you didn’t look too much like someone who had just ran a half mile in six inch heels.
Surprisingly, you didn’t look too bad. Your hair was a bit disheveled but other than that you looked okay. You attempted to fix your hair and make it look like an intentional mess, windswept and all that and you finally managed to get it to a place you were mostly happy with. With that, you left the back room and made your way behind the bar where Darby was waiting for you.
“Cutting it a bit close there, y/n” Darby said as you approached.
“I know, I’m so sorry Darby I promise it won’t happen again,” you said in a slight panic.
“Relax y/n, it’s not like you were actually late, I was just kidding,” she said with a warm smile. “I’m not worried about you, I hired you for a reason.”
You exhaled a breath of relief at that, panic subsiding. “Thanks Darby,” you said.
Darby walked behind you, heading out towards the vast expanse of the club. “Alright, you’ve got this, I leave the bar in your capable hands. If you need anything, just press this button behind the bar and either I’ll come running or someone else will be down to help,” she said, patting you on the back. “And Sadie is here too so you’re not completely alone.” You gave her a nod and with that she was gone.
Sadie was the other bartender working on this floor tonight but she wouldn’t be able to help you out that much considering how busy you were. Oh yeah, that was the other thing. The club had multiple floors. The main floor had a large stage at the front of a dance floor, a large bar, and seating around the dance floor. The second floor that was more of a lounge where people could watch the entertainment from above but also have private conversations, with its own bar of course. Suffice to say, the second floor was more of a VIP section. It also had a third floor but that wasn’t open to the public; you didn’t even know what was up there. And, if the door you saw during your tour with Darby was any indication, there was also a basement which as far as you knew was used for storage. It was by far the largest and fanciest place you had ever bar tended in. Tonight you were on the main floor along with Sadie, where all the newer hires worked.
You turned toward the crowd of people swarming the bar, ready to order drinks and muttered a quiet “you’ve got this” under your breath. You began taking people’s orders and mixing their drinks for them, trying to work as efficiently as possible while giving them an award winning smile. You seemed to be doing an alright job if your tips were any indication. Your tight black dress probably didn’t hurt either, it showed off your tits spectacularly if you did say so yourself.
You spent the next couple of hours in a groove and you were actually having fun. The vibes were good and so was the music. Unfortunately, like they say, all good things must come to an end. You saw Darby approach you and you got a bad feeling, stomach sinking as she waved you over. “Is everything alright?” you asked her. “I thought I was doing okay but if not I can do better,” you promised.
“Oh it’s not that, you’re doing an amazing job,” she assured you. You started to feel calm again until an apologetic smile creeped onto her face. “But-,” she began.
“Don’t say but,” you pleaded, not liking where this was going.
“But,” she continued, “Laurie, one of our VIP bartenders just had to go home sick and I have no one to replace her,” Darby explained. It took you a second to catch on but when it did your mouth dropped open in disbelief.
“You’re not serious,” you told her, still processing what Darby was getting at.
“I am,” she replied, with sympathy in her voice.
“Why can’t you get Sadie to do it?” you asked her. “She’s been here longer than I have! It’s literally my first night,” you said a bit panicked.
“Sadie is fine down here but if I put her up there she’d be throwing herself at every man whose wallet she thought was thick enough. Our VIPs pay not to be bothered, throwing Sadie at them would derail that,” she explained.
“And you can’t call anyone else to come in?” you asked.
“No, I already tried that,” she said.
“But if I go up there, who’s gonna cover me down here?”
“Y/N, any bartender can cover down here, not every bartender has what it takes to work up there. But I believe you do so, please, for the love of god, go upstairs,” she convinced you. You inhaled deeply and took a moment to appreciate how fucked you were.
“Fine, but if I make an idiot of myself I will not be held responsible,” you swore.
“Thank you!” she said, clapping her hands together. “Alright, follow me.” With that, you trailed behind Darby, passing through the red rope that indicated you were about to enter a VIP area and walking up the stairs.
The second floor of the club was much classier than the bottom floor was. Fancy booths with partition walls that gave off a red glow, containing black leather couches and black tables. It was like night and day. You could still hear the music from the floor below and could see the entertainment on the stage from the edge of the balcony if you walked to it but the atmosphere was much different to that of downstairs. “Well this is nice,” you said.
“Yeah well, the VIPs pay enough that they have certain standards,” Darby said.
“Looks like it,” you agreed. You made your way to the bar and noted the shelves of very expensive alcohol it carried.
“So,” Darby started. “Serving drinks up here is a little different to down there. You have your VIPs who sit at the bar as you can see,” she said, gesturing to the people sitting at the bar. “That is typically covered by one person, in this case, tonight it is being covered by Anna,” she continued, pointing at a woman behind the bar. “Your job,” she said, turning back to you, “is to cover booths one to ten,” she explained.
“You are only responsible for those ten groups the rest of the night. Anything they want, you get for them,” she said, handing you a tablet. “Now these VIPs like I said don’t love to be bothered, so when they need you, they’ll press a button on a tablet that resides on their table and it will pop up here,” she said, pointing to the tablet in your hand. “It will indicate, for example, that booth seven would like a server or bartender’s assistance and you will go over there and take their order. You’ll click on their booth number on the tablet and note what they ordered, then you will go and make them their drinks and bring them their food from the kitchen behind the bar. As soon as their order is fulfilled, you press the check beside the booth number and that booth will disappear on the tablet until the next time they request your assistance. Does that make sense?” she asked, after that long explanation.
“I think so?” you say in response. She had given that explanation in less than 2 minutes so you weren’t that sure.
“Repeat it back to me,” she said.
“Uh, they use their tablet to signal for a server, it pops up on my tablet, I go over and take their order making sure to click on their booth number on the tablet to input what they order, I go and make their drinks and grab their food for them, serve it to them, press the check on the tablet so their booth disappears on the tablet until the next time they need me, and other than that I pretty much fuck off and make myself scarce?” you said.
“Perfect. See, you’re already good at this,” she said. “And remember, under no circumstances do you go over to them without them signalling you. These are very private people and discretion is key.”
“Got it,” you said.
“Great,” Darby said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I have faith in you, if you need me tell Anna and she’ll signal me,” she said walking away. You were still a bit overwhelmed with all the information that had just been thrown at you but you resolved to just go for it and so you walked behind the bar, waiting for one of your booths to signal you. Anna gave you an encouraging smile as you did, recognizing you were nervous. At least she seemed nice.
You didn’t have to wait for long for something to do, screen lighting up after only a few minutes. Booth Four, the screen read. Alright, you could do this, at least that’s what you told yourself as you slowly approached the booth. You were greeted by three older looking men, all in suits, and none of them bothering to look up at you. It wasn’t because they didn’t notice your presence, because they rattled off their orders as soon as you reached the table. You had a sneaking suspicion it was because they thought you beneath them, considering you were working at a club like this.
They were basic with their orders, three whiskeys. At least that was easy to put into the system. It took you less than three minutes to pour their drinks and serve it to them, making sure to check off the booth when the order was completed. You still didn’t get so much as a thank you which was pretty rude but at least they’d still be tipping you. Darby had clued you in during your tour that to become a VIP member you had to commit to a minimum of a fifty dollar tip, which was crazy to you but hey, working in the VIP section had its perks. Besides, you knew that that amount of money was nothing for them.
You continued on serving booths as they popped up and all in all, it was a pretty easy gig. Luckily, most customers were actually pretty nice, the majority of them, apart from booth four, at least saying hello and giving you a smile.
As one in the morning came around a few of your booths had cleared out, now only having to manage six booths. You had practically served every single one of your assigned booths at that point, all except for booth one, that is. It was even more secluded than the rest of them, located in a dark corner. Honestly, you had assumed that no one was seated there tonight because it had been so quiet, so it came as a surprise to you when your screen lit up and Booth One was displayed across it.
You grabbed your tablet and quickly walked over to the booth, heels clicking on the marble. As you reached the table you looked up and put on your biggest smile but found it almost dropping in surprise when you saw a group of younger men, different from the people you’ve been used to seeing all night. There was one in particular, however, that caught your eye. He had longer, black, slicked back hair, the deepest brown eyes you’d ever seen, with a moustache and a beard. You could also tell, even from the opposite side of the table, that his white dress shirt was practically hugging his muscles and his thighs filled out his black dress pants more than they had any right to. In other words, the man was sex on a stick.
He was already looking at you when you turned your head towards him, appearing to give you a once over. You were just about to ask for their orders when the man spoke, not a greeting, but rather an intrigued, “You’re new.”
You gave a slightly nervous laugh at that, meeting his eyes. “Is it that obvious?” you asked, worried you weren’t doing as good a job as you thought you were.
Another one of the men at the table interjected, putting your worries at ease. “Not at all,” he said. “Ash here owns the club, so he notices these things.”
Well shit, you thought. Of course Mr sex-on-a-stick had to be the owner of the stupid club you worked at. You were fucked. “Oh,” you said slightly stunned. “Well it’s nice to meet you sir,” you said trying to seem professional. At that, you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes darken but you were certain you were imagining things. Just because you wanted to jump his bones, didn’t mean that he wanted to do the same.
“You can just call me Ash,” he said, smirking at you. “And you are?” he questioned.
“Y/n,” you introduced yourself. “Darby just hired me, it’s my first shift” you explained.
“First shift and already working the VIP section,” he remarked. “Darby must have a lot of faith in you.”
“Apparently so,” you agreed. There was a pause for a moment before you shook yourself out of it. “So what can I get for you?” you asked.
“Scotch, top shelf, neat,” he said.
“You like it strong,” you said with a laugh and he gave you a wink. Everyone at his table ordered the same thing which made your life easier. “Right, I’ll be right back with those,” you said with a smile, walking away and trying not to trip over your feet and eat shit.
As you left the booth, however, you felt a pair of eyes on your back and you just knew who they belonged to.
Yeah, you decided. You were absolutely fucked.
NOTE: Hey everyone! Thanks for reading! I just wanted to let you all know that while I don’t have a specific schedule for updating this fic as I’m writing as I go, I will be aiming to publish at least a chapter a week though it could be more or less than that depending on the week! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!
Manny Alvarez if you think about it is just the reincarnated version or the version of Ash Garver if he y’know didnt get stabbed with a screwdriver and didn’t die.
Stay Here…? (Part 2 of “In the End, I Chose You”)|Manny Alvarez x Reader
Author’s Note:
Canon-divergent epilogue for a Manny x Reader fic where Joel lives. Set two years after the cabin, this explores healing, forgiveness, and how peace never comes without a cost in the Last of Us world. Ends with a dark cliffhanger—because nothing stays quiet forever.
It was spring in Jackson—muddy trails, cracked ice, and early sun filtering through pines. The kind of morning where peace came easy if you didn’t think too hard. You stepped onto the porch with a chipped coffee mug and exhaled slow, eyes tracing the frost just beginning to fade from the rooftops.
The cold was familiar, but not hostile. For the first time in a long time, your body didn’t feel like it was bracing for survival.
The door behind you creaked open. Manny stepped out barefoot, shirt rumpled, curls tied back in a loose knot. He looked at you with that soft half-smile he only ever wore when it was just the two of you—no patrols, no eyes, no past catching up.
“Didn’t even wait for me?” he asked, stretching.
You smirked. “You snored through three alarms.”
He leaned against the railing beside you, bumping your shoulder. “Lie. I don’t snore.”
“You do. Like a dying bear.”
He chuckled, low and quiet, and then lapsed into silence. The two of you watched the town stir to life—distant voices, a dog barking, the echo of horses being led toward the gates.
Two years ago, you thought you’d never hear those sounds again.
“Does it still wake you up?” he asked suddenly, eyes still on the trees.
You didn’t need to ask what it meant.
“Sometimes,” you answered. “Usually when it’s too quiet.”
He nodded. His hand found yours where it rested against the porch rail, fingers warm, steady.
You remembered the cabin—blood and screaming and smoke. You remembered the gun shaking in your hand as you turned on the people you had once called friends. You remembered Manny standing there, not stopping you. Letting you choose.
He never asked for forgiveness.
You gave it anyway.
And in return, he stayed. Through interrogation, through suspicion, through a thousand days of rebuilding a life no one thought you deserved. Even now, some didn’t trust you. But Jesse had vouched for you. Joel…God, somehow…had forgiven you. Ellie hadn’t spoken more than a sentence to you, but she hadn’t shut you out entirely. That was enough.
You’d built something here. Quiet. Honest.
You both had.
That night, after dinner and a shared patrol shift along the north wall, you lay in bed beside Manny, his head tucked against your shoulder, one hand resting on your waist, thumb brushing slow circles against your ribs.
“You ever think about leaving?” you whispered.
He didn’t open his eyes. “No.”
“Even if the past came knocking?”
Now his eyes opened. “It already did. We didn’t answer.”
You stared at the ceiling, heart a little heavier than it had been that morning.
“I don’t think it’s done with us.”
He didn’t argue.
You fell asleep like that, wound around each other, warm and safe in the kind of peace you’d never thought you’d earn.
Until—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Not frantic. Not confused.
Just… waiting.
Your eyes snapped open. It was after midnight. No one knocked at this hour unless something was wrong.
You sat up. Manny was already reaching for the pistol beside the bed. His face had shifted, sleep replaced by something harder, sharper.
A second knock. Slower. Measured.
You crept to the door, pulse hammering in your throat. Manny followed, silent. You glanced down and saw something slid under the crack.
A folded piece of paper.
Your hand trembled as you picked it up.
Unfolded it.
Read it.
“We didn’t forget you.”
No name. No mark. No mercy.
Manny met your eyes.
Neither of you spoke.
But the quiet peace that had clung to the cabin like mist was already gone.
dededos
turnnoffyourmind
origamiaround
snowghoul
discoholicmusic
jbbartram-illu
yousharknotpass
areudirty
