Warnings: lesbian sex ayyy, NSFW, mentions of strippers & the sex industry
N/A: definitely did not expect too get as much love on the first part as I did. But I appreciate it! And finally here’s a second part!!
Synopsis: part 2, read part 1. This is right after the park scene but fades into after high school & after Nate Jacob’s.
After the park, despite wanting too keep in contact with Maddy, you didn’t. Part of you knew you deserved better, but the other part wanted too just be friends. But the most logical part of you, knew that would never be enough for you.
You talked too her occasionally, cute Instagram comments and talks of plans you both know were bullshit was exchanged. And after those went to shit too, she just faded. You had heard about Nate and Cassie of course. And you wanted too be there for her but it felt awkward and unnecessary. You told yourself she had a good support system, and that if she really needed you she would reach out. Because she was still Maddy, maybe not your Maddy anymore but she was still Maddy.
Right after high school, you were going to go to college you really were. But your family’s not made out of money, and if you were being truly fucking honest with yourself you didn’t want to. Any more school sounded like a nightmare to you. So you saved up working as a waitress to move to the city.
When that happened, life hit you a little harder than expected. You started to get your cosmetology license. You were meeting new people, making a life for yourself. And when you got your license, and it was finally time to use it. You were recruited to a strip club that needed a new hair and makeup artist. Not only did they offer you that but they also offered a real spot with the girls. A stripper as well. You gladly took the first offer and declined the second.
But as you continued, your pay wasn’t enough too live. Not in this economy, and especially not in the city. But you didn’t wanna leave, I mean they’ve been nothing but nice too you. And they paid you okay but there was only 7 girls for crying out loud. So, you became the 8th naturally.
A few years later, you got an invitation to Cassie and Nate’s wedding. You couldn’t believe your own eyes when you got it, you hadn’t kept in touch with them either. So then inviting you was a shock but also them being together still was the biggest one.
That day you had gotten all cute, put on your cute black dress and kitten heels. And you walked into the wedding, instantly feeling out of place.
Until you saw Maddy sitting at a table by herself, clutching a drink and looking at Cassie from far away. She turned her head and noticed you, she smiled and waved. “Hey! Oh my god, y/n! Come sit down!” And in an instant, you felt your feet moving towards her direction with the gravitational force she’s always been able to get out of you.
“Hi, Maddy. It’s so good to see you.” You said, smoothing down your dress and sitting down. Her eyes follow your hands as they naturally go into your lap. As soon as your sat down, she pulls you into a hug. You can hear and almost feel her take a whiff of you, but convince yourself you’re delusional.
“It’s good too see you too, wow you look different.” She says, not breaking eye contact. Making you a little nervous. “Yeah, I hope that’s a compliment. Um- you do too. Gorgeous as ever.” You spit out. You were always awkward with her, no matter what. That’s something she loved, she fed off it. You knew it, and you wanted too hate it but you loved it. You fucking loved it.
“It’s not a compliment or a diss, just an observation. You were sexy then and you’re sexy now.” She laughs, taking another sip of her drink.
“Thank you, Maddy.”
The ceremony continued, both of you talking and just catching up. When you told her your job now, she was shocked. Not judgment at all, simply just shocked. “Wow, that is crazy. You? Of all people it’s just not what I expected. But I respect it, it’s a good business.” And when she told you what her job is, you acted shocked but you always knew Maddy was a star and if she couldn’t be one herself she would find a way to be in the field.
During the after party, when Nate’s mom gives her speech, your heart breaks for Maddy. Squeezing her hand under the table, gently asking if she’s okay. Your too shy too look at her in her eyes but you can feel her brush her fingers across your hand. Her way of saying yes I’m okay. And even though you’re not looking at her you can feel and see in your corner vision that she’s looking at you.
Eventually, the event ends and puts you and Maddy out of your misery. You both maybe a little tipsy, stepping out of the building too the parking lot. When it was time for you to part ways, and go to your own cars. She stopped and stepped for hers, and then stepped right back.
“Actually do you wanna go to my car?” She blurted out, looking at you with — if you didn’t know better, dare you say a…. Pleading look?
You turn back, dropping your keys and awkwardly drowning down to grab them and fanning the hair in your face away as you get up. “Yeah. Yeah- sure.”
“Fuck- fuck Maddy!” You scream, clasping your legs tighter around her head. You could hear — and feel , a moan escape her lips, going straight into your pussy and from there right into your veins like electricity.
“Hold still, just need another minute.” She manages to say, when she pulls back for a second, before going right back in on your clit. Your hand fumbles to grab something to hold onto, it ends up grabbing the ‘oh shit’ handle for support, while the lower half of your body starts subconsciously grinding against her face. Moans escaping you left and right, the whole car shaking.
She does a trick, some fucking tongue trick in your tight little hole. Your stomach squeezes and you moan loudly as you finally reach your high, heavy breathing. “Fuckkkkkk—kkkk” you say, your legs shaking and you trying to come down from your high.
She pulls away, grabbing a towel from her back seat, and wiping your pussy up with ease. You feel the tiny soft prickly texture pull away and it’s followed by a light thud sound as it hits her back seat again, but then that’s followed by feeling her take her panties off finally. You were already completely naked and the only thing that kept her from being was her underwear gone, but now out of the equation.
She gives you another minute too catch your breath before saying, “Sit up, I want you too fuck me.” You choke. “W-what?”
“Or I can fuck you if you really want me too, but you’ll have to eat me out after then.” She says, and you see her hand reach back to her backseat again, pulling out a pink strap on plastic penis.
“Oh my god, why do you have that in your car Maddy?”
“Uhm, just incase, duh. You never know what can happen I mean look at this.” She shrugs, like it’s normal to have a strap on standby in your backseat. “So, you gonna give me an answer?”
“You never asked a question Maddy, it was a statement.” You reply, your hands grabbing the strap out of hers.
She giggles, “yeah well at least you know how to listen, now hurry up please.”
You fumble with it for a second before securing the strap and reaching up to kiss her quickly. A kiss you both moan into. “Please..” she whispers. Yeah. Didn’t have too ask you twice.
You guide her up on your lap, helping her sit herself on your make believe cock. When she sinks down, all the way she immediately moans, her hands grabbing your face roughly pulling it into hers with a kiss.
You guided her hips, into it and into it and into it, and moved your own up and down repeatedly. She’s already moaning like crazy, biting her lip with her head back.
“Yeah please just like that, please-“ She moans out. You wanted to make her feel good, always. You started moving your hips faster up and down up, pulling her closer to you.
She grips your shoulders, her head still thrown back in pleasure as she starts guiding herself more into it as well. You hear her whisper a string of fucks under her breath, more whimpering than whispering.
After 3 minutes of picking up the pace and making the car smell worse like sex, she yells “fuck fuck— yes- oh my god yes! Just like that! Like that.. nobody makes me feel like this just you, only you. I- I’ve always known that.” You can barley register her words before she moans loud enough too shake the car and she stops herself, making you stop too.
She gets off the strap, supporting herself with her feet on her car floor. She reaches behind you, adrenaline and all to take off the strap. After she does, she licks it casually, looking up at you like ‘what? I taste good?’
“Maddy..” you breathe out, grabbing at her hips to get her back on you. She lets you easily. And for a moment no words are exchanged, before she picks up your phone from the cup holder used your face too get in with a quick flip and puts her new number in your phone.
When you come home to find Faye unexpectedly settled on the couch, your anger exposes a deeper fear that you still do not truly belong.
14. House Rules
You have one bag of groceries hooked over your wrist, another balanced against your hip, and Fez's hoodie swallowing you whole when you push the front door open with your shoulder.
The house smells like cereal, weed, and something vaguely burnt.
Normal.
Comforting, weirdly.
Ash is at the kitchen table with a bowl in front of him, eating cereal directly from the mixing bowl because apparently regular bowls are "tiny as fuck" and he is "a growing man."
You kick the door shut behind you.
"Ash, if you ate the last of my cereal again, I swear to God."
He looks up.
There is a split second where his face changes.
Not guilt. Not exactly.
More like a tiny warning siren goes off behind his eyes.
That is your first clue.
Then you turn toward the living room.
And stop dead.
There is a girl on your couch.
Not sitting politely. Not perched on the edge like a guest.
Sprawled. Comfortable.
Hair blonde messy, big lips, a vape in hand, wearing tiny underwear and some thin top that looks like it has given up on being clothing. The TV is on. She looks like she has been there for hours.
Like she pays fucking rent. Like she did not just enter your home and become a jump scare with lip gloss.
For one second, you just blink.
Then you slowly turn your head toward Ash.
Ash lifts his spoon, "Shit. Don't look at me."
The girl on the couch turns, eyes wide and unfocused in that soft, floaty way that makes it immediately clear she is either high, exhausted, or living full-time on another frequency.
She waves.
"Hi."
You stare at her. Then, very carefully, you set the groceries down on the counter.
One bag. Then the other. Slow. Controlled.
Because if you move too fast, you might start throwing produce.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
Ash takes his cereal bowl and silently slides it a few inches farther from the edge of the table.
Smart.
The girl blinks at you.
"Oh, I'm Faye."
Like that is helpful.
Like that is a full explanation for why she is half-naked on your couch at four in the afternoon.
She takes a puff from her vape and adds, "I'm, like, staying here."
You laugh once. Short. Sharp.
"Uh, no, the fuck you're not."
Faye looks genuinely confused.
Which somehow makes it worse.
"Oh. Fuck. Really?”
That is it. You stare at her. She stares back.
The TV keeps playing like this is not a hostage situation with snacks.
From somewhere in the back, a door opens.
Fez comes down the hall, wiping his hands on a towel, and the second he sees you standing there with your groceries, his hoodie on your body, your face too calm, his steps slow.
He knows. Immediately.
That is how you know you look insane in a very quiet way.
"(Y/n), baby."
You point at Faye.
"Why is there a naked bitch on our couch?"
Fez looks at Faye.
Then at you.
Then back at Faye.
"She ain't naked."
Wrong answer.
Ash closes his eyes like he felt the explosion before it happened.
You turn your head slowly toward Fez.
"She’s not?"
Fez's mouth presses into a line.
He knows he chose badly.
"I mean... she’s underdressed. But she got clothes on."
"She’s in her fucking underwear."
Faye looks down at herself like she forgot.
"Oh. Yeah."
You take one step toward the living room.
Not screaming.
Not flailing.
Not cartoonishly jealous.
Just moving with purpose.
And honestly, that might be worse.
Faye sits up fast, vape clutched in one hand.
"Whoa," she says. "Are you, like, mad at me?"
You stop near the edge of the rug.
"I'm fucking deciding."
Ash quietly picks up his cereal bowl, stands, and moves toward the far side of the kitchen.
You glance at him.
He shrugs, "Splash zone."
Fez steps between you and Faye, hands up, voice low.
"Baby, chill."
That almost makes you laugh again.
Chill.
A man can say chill to a woman in a moment like this and still act shocked when civilization collapses.
You look at him, "I am incredibly chill. Tell me again, and I won’t be.”
Ash mutters, "That's a lie."
You do not look away from Fez.
He keeps his hands up.
"She Custer's girl," he says. "She in some shit. She just crashin' here for a little bit."
Your eyes move past him to Faye, who gives another tiny wave from the couch.
Like this is a sleepover. Like you are all about to braid hair.
You look back at Fez.
"On our couch?"
Something flickers across his face.
He hears it.
Of course he does.
Our.
Not the couch. Not your couch. Not his couch.
Our couch.
His expression softens a little, and it makes your chest hurt because you do not want soft right now. You want him to understand that this is not about Faye being pretty or half-dressed or female.
Not only.
It is about walking into the one place you have started trusting and finding a stranger already settled in the middle of it.
It is about Laurie's eyes lingering too long.
It is about being made to strip in a room full of danger.
It is about every person in Fez's world opening the door and walking through without anyone asking if there is still room for you.
"Yeah," Fez says carefully. "Our couch."
Your jaw tightens.
"And she gon' put some clothes on," he adds.
Behind him, Faye lifts one finger.
"I can, like, put pants on."
You snap your eyes to her.
"That'd be a great fucking start."
Faye nods quickly.
"Totally. Yeah. They’re..."
She looks around.
"Somewhere."
Ash points toward the hall with his spoon.
"Bathroom."
Faye stands, tugging her top down like that helps anything, and shuffles toward the hallway. She pauses beside you, smelling like vape smoke and perfume and bad decisions.
"Sorry," she says, and for the first time, she sounds a little more awake. "I didn't know you lived here."
You open your mouth.
Nothing comes out.
Because there it is.
You didn't know you lived here.
Nobody knows what you are in this house.
Guest. Girlfriend. Runaway. Problem. Pretty thing Fez brought home and let stay.
You swallow, "yeah, I do."
It comes out quieter than you meant.
Faye nods slowly, "Cool."
Then she disappears down the hall.
The second the bathroom door closes, the room changes.
The funny part drains out.
Fez lowers his hands.
Ash goes very still by the kitchen counter, like even he knows this part is not for him.
You turn and start unpacking groceries.
Too fast.
Milk into the fridge. Eggs. Bread. Cereal. Your cereal. The box hits the counter harder than it needs to.
Fez comes closer, "Baby."
"Don't, dude."
"I ain't know Custer was bringin' her like that."
You laugh under your breath.
"Like that?"
"You know what I mean."
"No, Fez. I really fucking don't."
He glances toward Ash.
Ash immediately grabs his cereal and walks toward the back.
"Ight. I'm gone."
"You don't have to leave," you say.
"Yes, I do," Ash says. "I'm emotionally mature."
He disappears down the hall. You stare after him for half a second. Then you look back at Fez.
He stands there with that tired, worried look on his face. The one that usually softens you.
Not this time. Not enough.
"How long?" you ask.
Fez rubs the back of his neck.
"I don't know."
You freeze, "You don't know?"
"Custer said just a little bit."
"Custer," you repeat. "The same Custer who can't shut up long enough to breathe?"
Fez exhales.
"She in trouble."
"So was Rue."
His face shifts.
You keep going.
"So was I. So is everyone. Everyone is always in fucking trouble, Fez."
"I know."
"No, you don't." Your voice shakes, and you hate it. "Do I have to keep making room for every fucking person who falls through your door?"
Fez goes quiet.
The question lands harder than you meant it to.
Or maybe exactly as hard.
You stand across from him in the kitchen, Fez's hoodie on your body, groceries half-unpacked around you, the house suddenly feeling both too small and not yours at all.
Fez's voice is low when he says, "No."
You look at him.
"But you will."
He does not answer.
That hurts worse than if he argued.
Because you know him.
You know the answer.
If Rue shows up shaking, he opens the door.
If Custer drags in disaster, Fez tries to manage it.
If Ash needs something, Fez moves heaven and earth.
If someone is in trouble and Fez can do something, he does.
That is one of the reasons you love him.
It is also one of the reasons his life scares the shit out of you.
You look away first.
Fez steps closer, careful.
"I ain't pickin' her over you."
"I get it."
"You don't sound like you do."
"I know you're not picking her over me," you say. "That's not what this is."
He waits.
You grip the edge of the counter.
"This… I mean, shit, Fez. This is the only place I have."
His face changes. Softens fully now.
You hate that your eyes start burning.
"I know it's your house," you say quickly. "I know. I'm not stupid. I know I wasn't born here. I know my name isn't on anything. I know I just showed up one day with a bag and never really left."
"(Y/n)."
"But it became mine too," you whisper. "And I needed it to stay feeling like that for five fucking minutes."
Fez crosses the space between you.
This time, you let him.
His hands settle on your arms, warm and steady.
"It’s yours."
You shake your head, but he keeps going.
"It is."
"You can't just say that."
"I can."
"Fez."
"You got half my dresser. You got a toothbrush. You got that nasty ass cereal Ash keeps eatin'. You got half my bed and most my closet." His thumbs move gently over your sleeves. "You got me, baby."
Your throat tightens.
From down the hall, Faye calls, "I found my pants!"
Ash yells back, "Congratulations!"
The absurdity of it hits at the worst possible moment.
You laugh once, wet and unwilling.
Fez's mouth twitches.
You look up at him.
"I don't like this."
"I know."
"I don't like random people in my space."
"I know."
"I don't like her on the couch in underwear."
"I really know."
You narrow your eyes.
Fez squeezes your arms.
"She wear clothes in common spaces. She don't go in our room. She don't touch your shit. She don't stay longer than she gotta."
"Our room?" you ask quietly.
Fez holds your gaze.
"Yeah. Our room."
The words settle into you, warm and aching.
You want to stay mad.
Part of you does.
But another part of you, the tired part, the part still carrying Laurie's voice and your mother's hand and Nate's blood on Fez's knuckles, just wants to be held in the kitchen and told there is still a place for you.
So you step into him.
Fez wraps his arms around you immediately.
Your face presses into his chest.
He smells like smoke and soap and home.
"I'm not sharing my cereal with her," you mutter.
Fez huffs a laugh against your hair.
"Ight.”
"And if she uses my blanket, she's dead to me."
"I'll let her know."
"And Custer is not allowed to surprise-drop women into this house anymore."
"Agreed."
Faye emerges from the hallway in sweatpants that are definitely not hers and a hoodie that might be Ash's.
Ash appears behind her, offended.
"Yo, is that my hoodie?"
Faye looks down.
"Oh. Maybe."
Ash points at her.
"What the fuck?"
You lift your head from Fez's chest and stare at him.
"It has a hot sauce stain on the sleeve."
Ash looks personally attacked.
"That's how you know it's mine."
Fez's arms stay around you.
Faye hovers awkwardly near the couch, now fully covered and a little less like a threat and a little more like a very lost girl who has made several wrong turns in a row.
She looks at you.
"Can I sit down?"
You inhale slowly. Then exhale. You glance at Fez. Then at Ash. Then back at Faye.
"Fully clothed?"
Faye looks down at her body. She nods. "Fully clothed."
You hold her gaze for one more second. Then you nod.
"Fine."
Faye sits carefully this time, like the couch might bite her.
Ash drops into the armchair, still glaring at his hoodie.
Fez keeps one hand at your waist as you turn back to the groceries.
The house does not feel settled.
Not exactly.
Something has shifted.
Something uncomfortable has been placed in the middle of the room and told to stay awhile.
But Fez's hand stays warm on your hip.
Your cereal goes into the cabinet.
Your hoodie stays over the chair.
Your toothbrush is still beside his.
And when Faye reaches for the remote, Ash says, "She picks first," jerking his chin toward you.
You look at him.
He looks away immediately.
"House rules," he mutters.
Your chest squeezes.
Fez presses a kiss to the side of your head.
"See?" he murmurs. "Your house too."
You do not answer right away.
You just stand there in his hoodie, in the kitchen that still smells like cereal and weed and something burnt, trying to believe him.
Then you reach for the grocery bag and pull out another box of cereal.
Ash sits up straighter.
"Is that the good one?"
You tuck it under your arm and walk toward the cabinet.
Neon Desert | Rue Bennett x Fem!OC | No Saints In Texas
synopsis: Rue follows Ronnie into the outskirts of town and discovers a hidden world of Black cowboys, ranchers, and outlaws living away from society. She begins questioning everything she knows about the West.
warnings: sexual themes, Cowgirl!Rue, vulgar language, mature themes, mentions of violence and blood, western concept, original characters, S3 Atmosphere, Futuristic elements, Sci-fi
playlist
The stranger reached up slowly and removed their cloak, allowing the fabric to fall away and reveal what had been hidden beneath.
Rue's breath caught.
Their outfit shimmered with every shade of the spectrum, a chromatic display of colors woven together like they carried the sky, the ocean, and the stars all at once. Blue painted across their eyes like ceremonial markings, glowing softly beneath the fading light.
Their fingers were stained a deep indigo, the same color that appeared in every story Rue had chased.
The same color that haunted every newspaper clipping.
The same color people feared.
But standing before her now, Rue saw something different.
Their skin gleamed like a black pearl, rich and radiant beneath the remaining cyan glow of the magnolia petals. There was no monster. No villain. No creature from the rumors whispered across Saint Magnolia.
Just a person.
The cyan lights surrounding the flowers slowly dimmed as the stranger revealed their true identity.
Rue stared, unable to speak.
All this time, the town had been afraid of the blue.
But they never stopped to see the beauty behind it.
"They called me the Blued Woman. A thief. A killer. A curse that walked on two legs. But history has a funny way of painting women like me into monsters when they're too powerful to control."
Ronnie stood before her, the glow of her chromatic outfit flickering softly with every breath she took.
Each time she spoke, the colors woven into her clothing illuminated faintly, responding to her voice like the fabric itself carried a heartbeat. The blues, purples, and indigos shifted beneath the fading cyan light of the magnolia fields, painting her like something between a woman and a constellation.
"You spent so much time looking for a monster, Rue Bennett," Ronnie said.
Her indigo fingers moved gracefully as she stepped closer, the markings around her eyes shimmering with every word.
"People do."
Rue remained frozen, watching the woman standing in front of her.
The same woman the town had turned into a nightmare.
The same woman whose name was whispered like a curse.
Ronnie tilted her head, her outfit glowing once more as she spoke.
The colors around her dimmed.
"But nobody ever asked why I was blue in the first place."
"Why?"
The question left Rue's mouth before she could stop herself.
Ronnie stared at her for a moment, studying the curiosity and determination written across her face.
Then she sighed.
A quiet laugh escaped her lips, almost as if she had heard that question a thousand times before.
"You really wanna know the truth?" Ronnie asked.
The colors woven into her outfit flickered softly, casting faint shades of blue and violet across the magnolia fields.
Rue didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
Ronnie's smile faded into something more knowing.
"Then I'll have to take you there."
The wind moved through the flowers as she turned toward the glowing fields ahead.
Rue looked beyond her, watching the hidden world she had only just discovered.
"Where?"
Ronnie glanced back over her shoulder.
"To the beginning."
Her indigo fingers brushed against one of the magnolia petals, causing it to glow beneath her touch.
"Before the rumors. Before the headlines. Before they turned me into a story they could control."
She looked directly at Rue.
"Before Ronnie Blue became a legend."
"Wait," Rue said, shaking her head. "So you're just... living out here? In this alien-like garden? And nobody recognized you?"
She let out a small, disbelieving laugh.
"There's no way."
Ronnie's lips curled into the faintest smile.
"You're still thinking like someone from Saint Magnolia."
She stepped closer and gently pressed an indigo finger against the center of Rue's forehead. The touch sent a cool sensation through Rue's body, like dipping her head beneath still water.
"It's shit like this that'll get you killed," Ronnie said.
Rue frowned.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're looking with your eyes."
Ronnie removed her finger, and the blue markings beneath her own eyes pulsed softly.
"But you haven't learned how to see."
As soon as the words left her mouth, the magnolia petals surrounding them shimmered.
The glowing towers vanished.
The humming machines disappeared.
Even Ronnie's chromatic outfit dulled into ordinary fabric.
Rue blinked.
Then, just as quickly, everything returned.
The lights.
The colors.
The hidden world.
Ronnie folded her arms.
"To everyone else, this is just another field of magnolias."
She tilted her head.
"You're only seeing it because the flowers let you."
Rue's hand instinctively drifted toward the revolver tucked into her belt.
Not to draw it.
Just to remind herself it was still there.
"What... did you just do?"
"I didn't do anything," Ronnie replied. "The magnolias did."
Rue looked around once more. The glowing towers stretched toward the heavens, their glass faces reflecting constellations that shouldn't have been visible in the middle of the afternoon. Blue streams of light traveled beneath the ground like rivers, weaving between the roots of the magnolia trees before disappearing into the structures beyond.
"So this place..." Rue murmured.
"It exists."
Ronnie nodded.
"It always has."
"Then why can't anyone else see it?"
"They can."
Rue looked at her.
"They just don't remember."
The answer settled over the field like a heavy fog.
Ronnie walked ahead, her chromatic outfit glowing faintly with each step. The indigo beneath her fingertips brushed against the magnolia blossoms as she passed, causing them to bloom wider in her wake.
"The flower doesn't make people hallucinate," Ronnie explained. "That's the lie they tell."
Rue followed a few steps behind.
"It remembers."
She frowned.
"Remembers what?"
"Everything."
Ronnie stopped beside a pool of impossibly clear water. Beneath its surface, glowing blue roots stretched through the earth like veins.
"Our ancestors built this place long before Saint Magnolia existed. Every story, every song, every invention, every face... the magnolias carry them."
Rue knelt beside the water.
Instead of her reflection, she saw flashes of strangers she'd never met.
A little Black girl running through glowing fields.
A woman with indigo hands forging strange metal beneath a sky full of stars.
Cowboys riding alongside hovering machines.
Drummers whose rhythms caused the flowers to pulse with light.
Communities thriving in a future no history book had ever described.
The images disappeared as quickly as they had come.
Rue stumbled backward.
"What was that?"
"Memory," Ronnie answered. "Not yours."
Rue's breathing quickened.
"So all those people back home..."
"They touched the flower."
"And they forgot?"
Ronnie's expression darkened.
"They remembered pieces."
Rue thought back to Bishop.
The old women in town.
The newspapers.
The scratches.
The blue hands.
Every person had told a different version.
Not because they were lying.
Because memory had fractured.
"The magnolias don't give everyone the same story," Ronnie said, reading the realization on Rue's face. "They reveal only what a person is ready to carry."
Rue slowly stood.
"Then what did they show you?"
For the first time since revealing herself, Ronnie looked away.
Her outfit dimmed.
"They showed me the truth."
Silence settled between them.
"And once you know the truth..."
Ronnie looked back at Rue, her blue eyes catching the light.
"...there's no going back to the life you had before."
Rue hesitated before stepping closer to the water.
The surface rippled on its own.
"You don't have to be afraid," Ronnie said quietly. "The magnolias don't show you what you want."
She looked down into the pool.
"They show you what you've been carrying."
Rue swallowed hard and knelt beside the glowing water. Her fingertips barely grazed the surface before the blue light climbed around her hand like silk.
The world dissolved.
She was eight years old again.
The summer sun hung low over the Bennett ranch as laughter echoed through the fields. Her father stood at the fence with his sleeves rolled to his elbows, grease smeared across his hands from repairing an old saddle.
"C'mon, Rue Rue," he called, waving her over. "Quit hiding."
A little girl with wild curls darted out from behind a hay bale, giggling as she nearly tripped over her own boots.
"You cheated!" she laughed.
"I did no such thing."
"You peeked!"
He placed a hand over his chest, pretending to be offended.
"I am an honest man."
Rue crossed her tiny arms.
"Liar."
Her father burst into laughter.
"There she is."
He scooped her into his arms, spinning her around until the whole world blurred into streaks of gold.
"You know what makes a good sheriff?" he asked after setting her down.
"A big gun?"
"No."
"A fast horse?"
He shook his head.
"A shiny badge?"
"No, ma'am."
Rue frowned.
"I don't know."
He knelt until they were eye level.
"A good sheriff asks questions before pulling the trigger."
He gently tapped the center of her forehead.
"Most folks only see what's in front of 'em."
Then he tapped her chest.
"The best ones learn to see what's underneath."
Young Rue nodded, not fully understanding.
Her father smiled.
"I hope you never lose that curiosity of yours."
The memory shifted.
Rain hammered against the roof of the ranch house.
Her father sat alone in his library, newspapers spread across the desk.
Blue fingerprints stained one of the pages.
He looked exhausted.
Older.
Worried.
He heard footsteps and quickly closed the journal in front of him.
Little Rue peeked through the doorway.
"Daddy?"
His face softened immediately.
"Hey, Rue Rue."
"What're you reading?"
He looked at the journal for a long moment before sliding it into the drawer.
"Something that isn't your burden."
She wandered over anyway.
"Is it another outlaw?"
He smiled faintly.
"No."
"A monster?"
"No."
"Then what is it?"
His eyes drifted toward the window, where a single magnolia blossom rested against the glass.
"It's a story."
"What kind?"
"The kind people will lie about."
He reached into the drawer and pulled out the leather journal Rue now carried in her satchel.
One day, it would belong to her.
"If anything ever happens to me," he said softly, placing the journal in her small hands, "promise me you'll search for the truth."
She looked down at the empty pages.
"How will I know when I find it?"
He smiled.
"The truth won't ask you to fear it."
The memory cracked like glass.
Rue gasped, stumbling away from the pool as tears welled in her eyes.
Her father's voice still echoed in her ears.
The truth won't ask you to fear it.
She clutched the journal tightly against her chest.
For the first time since his death...
She understood why he left it to her.
Rue wiped at her eyes before looking back at Ronnie, her curiosity getting the better of her once again.
"Wait... if you've been around since I was little..." She tilted her head. "How old are you?"
For the first time, Ronnie hesitated.
The corners of her mouth curled into a knowing smile as she folded her arms across her chest.
"A lady never tells her age."
Rue let out a short laugh.
"Oh, c'mon. You expect me to believe you've been hiding out here all these years looking exactly the same?"
Ronnie shrugged, the chromatic threads woven into her outfit catching the light.
"I didn't say that."
"Then what are you saying?"
Ronnie glanced toward the magnolia trees, her expression growing distant.
"Time moves differently out here."
Rue's smile slowly faded.
"In Saint Magnolia, you count years. Out here..." Ronnie reached out, letting a glowing petal settle into her palm. "We count memories."
She looked back at Rue, amusement returning to her face.
"So if it makes you feel any better..."
She grinned.
"I'm old enough to know better."
"And young enough to keep ignoring that advice."
Rue couldn't help but laugh.
"Now that," she said, "I believe."
A low rumble echoed through the magnolia fields.
Rue turned at the sound, her hand instinctively reaching toward her belt as the flowers began to sway. The glowing petals parted slowly, revealing a figure moving through the mist.
A black stallion emerged from the flowers.
Its coat shimmered beneath the cyan glow of the magnolias, dark as midnight with faint traces of blue light flowing beneath its skin like the veins of the earth itself. Its mane moved like smoke, carrying the same mysterious energy that surrounded Ronnie.
Rue stared.
"You have got to be kidding me."
Ronnie glanced back at her with a small smirk.
"What?"
"You have a glowing horse too?"
Ronnie laughed softly.
"Not glowing."
The stallion stepped closer, lowering its head as Ronnie reached out and brushed her indigo fingers along its muzzle.
"Connected."
The horse let out a gentle breath, almost as if it recognized her touch.
Ronnie placed one hand against its forehead, whispering something Rue couldn't understand. The markings across the stallion's body flickered in response, matching the colors of Ronnie's outfit.
Then, with ease, Ronnie mounted the stallion.
She looked down at Rue, her blue eyes catching the light.
"You coming?"
Rue glanced back at Jolly, who stood calmly among the magnolias. The Palomino watched the scene with an unusual patience, almost as if she already understood.
Rue shook her head with a small smile.
"Of course my horse is the normal one."
Ronnie tilted her head.
"Normal is overrated."
The two horses stood side by side, one carrying the history of Saint Magnolia and the other carrying the secrets of a world forgotten.
Ronnie pulled the reins gently.
"Stay close, Rue Bennett."
The flowers opened a path before them.
"There's a lot you still don't know."
The two departed from the magnolia fields, the glowing flowers slowly closing behind them as if protecting the secrets they carried.
Rue followed Ronnie's lead, riding alongside her as the hidden path opened into unfamiliar territory. The farther they traveled, the more Saint Magnolia felt like a distant memory.
The dusty trails transformed into something impossible.
A town appeared on the horizon.
Not one built from wood and brick like the towns Rue knew, but something caught between eras. Experimental structures stretched toward the sky, their metal frames twisting alongside traditional western architecture. Glass walls reflected the sunlight while strange machines hummed beneath the streets.
It was a place that felt decades ahead of the world she knew.
Ronnie guided them through the entrance without hesitation.
"This is where the ones who couldn't belong found somewhere to exist," she explained.
Rue looked around carefully.
Scientists moved between buildings carrying glowing instruments and strange devices she couldn't begin to understand. Inventors worked alongside former outlaws, people with stories written across their faces and scars they carried like badges of survival.
Machines sat behind reinforced glass, hidden away from outsiders. Some appeared to be built for exploration, others for protection, and some were things Rue couldn't even identify.
The entire town felt like a secret the world wasn't ready to know.
But what caught Rue's attention most was the people.
Their clothing carried small pieces of silver woven into the fabric, reflecting the sunlight with every movement. Jewelry and metal accents decorated their outfits like armor and art combined.
Their faces were painted with eccentric designs, bold colors stretching across their eyes and cheeks. Each person looked like they carried a piece of their own story through their appearance.
Rue slowed her horse, taking it all in.
"They all look like they're from another world," she whispered.
Ronnie glanced over.
"Maybe we are."
Rue looked at her.
"What does that mean?"
Ronnie smiled slightly as they continued through the town.
"It means the world is much bigger than the people back home want you to believe."
A Horse Named Freedom | Rue Bennett x Fem!OC | No Saints In Texas
synopsis: Rue finds Ronnie hiding outside Saint Magnolia. Their first encounter is tense, but Rue realizes Ronnie isn’t the heartless outlaw everyone claims she is. Ronnie warns Rue to stop digging before she becomes part of the story.
warnings: sexual themes, Cowgirl!Rue, vulgar language, mature themes, mentions of violence and blood, western concept, original characters, S3 Atmosphere, Futuristic elements, Sci-fi
playlist
A manic episode later, Rue finally had the story straight.
Or at least, she thought she did.
The library floor was covered in her investigation. Pictures, newspaper clippings, articles, old novels, and handwritten notes were scattered around her like pieces of a puzzle waiting to be solved.
Every piece of evidence she could find was laid out in front of her.
The room had gone quiet, the only sound being the occasional rustle of paper as she moved things around, searching for the one detail she might have missed.
The flask she kept for emergencies sat empty beside her. Rue stared down at the mess she had created, her tired eyes scanning over the timeline she had built.
For the first time, she felt close to the truth.
But something still felt wrong.
The story was there.
She just wasn’t sure if she had uncovered it…
or if she had only found another version of the legend.
Her fingers traced over the map to pinpoint exactly where she thought Ronnie could be. A whole new journey ahead of her. No Bishop. No safety net. Just Rue and Jolly, riding together until the end of the road.
Rue tucked the journal safely into her satchel before hurrying to her room to get ready. There wasn’t a second to waste.
She grabbed a pair of jeans, a white wife-beater, her leather belt, and her worn boots. Her hands moved with practiced speed as she changed, every motion deliberate.
When she finished, Rue stood tall in front of the mirror.
She looked like the hero riding into the final act, ready to face the villain that had haunted the story from the very beginning.
A piece of straw rested between her lips as she slid her revolver into the waistband of her belt. She gave it one final adjustment before grabbing her satchel and heading outside.
Jolly was already waiting.
Rue mounted her Palomino in one smooth motion, gathered the reins, and kicked her heels lightly against the mare’s sides.
Together, they rode toward whatever waited at the end of the trail.
Jolly galloped through town, her hooves thundering against the dirt as Rue rode toward the edge of civilization. Word traveled fast, and before long the townsfolk gathered along the streets, realizing she was setting off on another mission.
The children chased after Jolly with their tiny legs, laughing as they tried their best to keep up before falling behind in a cloud of dust.
The women waved and blew her goodbye kisses from their porches and storefronts.
The men tipped their hats, whistling as she rode past, their voices following her down the road.
Rue acknowledged them with the slightest lift of her hand but never slowed her pace.
The trail ahead was calling, and she had no intention of looking back.
The sun beat relentlessly against Rue’s skin as she rode for miles without stopping. Heat shimmered above the trail, turning the open land into a wavering mirage while dust kicked up beneath Jolly’s hooves.
There were no rest stops planned.
No shortcuts.
Just miles of open country stretching farther than the eye could see.
Rue adjusted the brim of her hat, wiped the sweat from her brow, and kept riding. Every mile carried her farther from home and closer to the truth waiting at the end of the trail.
The sign reading “Welcome To Saint Magnolia” slowly disappeared behind her as Rue rode farther down the path.
The familiar streets of home faded into the distance, replaced by endless stretches of dirt roads and open land. The trail before her felt almost unreal, like a yellow brick road leading her toward a wizard waiting at the end.
Only this time, Rue wasn’t searching for a magical answer.
She was searching for the truth.
With Jolly carrying her forward, she followed the road ahead, unaware of what secrets waited beyond Saint Magnolia.
Her eyes caught sight of a few other riders just outside of town, tending to the herds and cattle that needed their attention. The sight was familiar, a reminder of the hardworking folks who kept the land alive.
Rue lifted her hat in greeting as she rode past, offering them a respectful nod.
She reached into her satchel and tossed a few coins their way as a small gesture of appreciation.
The riders caught them with surprised smiles, tipping their hats back in return.
Rue continued down the trail, leaving behind another small piece of kindness before disappearing into the open country.
Once the sun had set, Rue made camp in an abandoned farmhouse left behind by time. The old property was quiet, but it provided everything she needed for the night.
Hay was still scattered throughout the barn, giving Jolly a comfortable place to settle. The Palomino took her time eating, slowly enjoying the leftover feed before finally resting after the long journey.
Rue stood outside beneath the night sky, leaning against the wooden post as she smoked a cigar. The silence of the open land surrounded her, a peaceful moment before the road called her back again.
After finishing, she returned inside and pulled out her map, journal, and clippings. The papers spread across the table as she traced her route once more, comparing the landmarks and notes she had collected.
She needed to be certain she was heading in the right direction.
Because wherever this trail led…
it was bringing her closer to Ronnie Blue.
At last, Rue made herself comfortable against the hay bales, allowing the exhaustion from the journey to finally catch up with her.
The warmth of the hay beneath her and the quiet of the abandoned farm gave her a moment of peace. For once, there were no questions to chase, no rumors to unravel, and no danger waiting in front of her.
She closed her eyes for the night, letting the darkness take over as Jolly rested nearby.
Tomorrow, the trail would continue.
Morning arrived with the sound of birds chirping and the soft movement of Jolly shifting inside the barn. The first rays of sunlight slipped through the cracks of the old farmhouse, painting the dusty floors in golden light.
Rue slowly opened her eyes, the reality of the journey settling back onto her shoulders.
For a moment, she forgot where she was.
Then she saw the scattered maps beside her, the clippings tucked into her journal, and the satchel resting nearby.
The mission came rushing back.
She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before gathering her belongings. The quiet of the morning gave her a strange feeling, almost as if the land itself was waiting for her next move.
After checking the map one more time, Rue folded it carefully and placed it back into her satchel. She stepped outside to find Jolly already awake, her tail swishing as she greeted her.
“Morning, girl,” Rue whispered, running a hand along her mane.
Jolly let out a soft huff, almost as if she understood.
Rue smiled slightly before preparing for the road ahead.
The trail was longer than she expected, but she had made it this far.
And somewhere beyond the horizon was the answer she had been chasing.
Ronnie Blue.
Rue tightened the straps on her satchel and secured it against her hip before mounting Jolly. The morning air was cooler than the heat she had endured the day before, but she knew the sun would soon take its place above her.
The abandoned farm disappeared behind her as she continued down the trail, following the markings she had studied countless times in her father’s library.
Every turn.
Every landmark.
Every piece of information.
It all led somewhere.
The landscape slowly began to change. The familiar fields surrounding Saint Magnolia faded into unfamiliar territory, replaced by tall trees and rocky paths that stretched into the distance.
Rue pulled out the map while riding, glancing between the paper and the road ahead.
According to the clippings, this was where the trail went cold.
The last known location.
The place where Ronnie Blue supposedly vanished.
A small town appeared in the distance, its buildings worn down by time and its streets quieter than Saint Magnolia. A wooden sign hung above the entrance, swinging slowly in the wind.
Rue narrowed her eyes.
She had never been here before.
Jolly slowed as they approached, sensing the unfamiliar surroundings.
Rue reached for her journal, flipping through the notes she had collected.
One name appeared repeatedly.
One location that every story seemed to avoid.
The Magnolia Fields.
Her mother’s warning echoed in her mind.
Stay away from them magnolias and that flower.
Rue stared toward the horizon, where rows of white flowers stretched across the land like a blanket.
For the first time since leaving home, she questioned if she was truly ready for what she was about to find.
But turning back was never something Rue Bennett did.
She adjusted her hat and guided Jolly forward.
“Let’s see what they’re hiding.”
The closer Rue got to the Magnolia Fields, the stranger the land became.
The flowers weren’t supposed to grow this far out.
That was the first thing she noticed.
The rows of magnolias stretched across the horizon, their pale petals glowing beneath the afternoon sun like they carried their own light. The air around them shimmered, almost like heat waves, but there was something different about it.
Something alive.
Jolly slowed her pace, her ears twitching as she approached the fields. Rue could feel the mare’s hesitation beneath her.
“Easy, girl,” Rue whispered, gently pulling back on the reins.
The stories never mentioned this part.
They only spoke of the flower.
The madness.
The disappearances.
But none of them talked about the way the land itself seemed to breathe.
Rue reached into her satchel and pulled out one of the old clippings. The ink had faded over time, but one detail remained clear.
Ronnie Blue was last seen near the Magnolia Fields.
She looked back toward the endless rows of flowers.
Her mother’s warning replayed in her mind.
I don’t want you coming home a different person.
Rue swallowed hard.
She wasn’t afraid of a flower.
At least, that’s what she told herself.
As she continued forward, the ordinary world began to disappear. The wooden fences and abandoned trails gave way to something she had never seen before.
Hidden between the magnolias were structures unlike anything in Saint Magnolia.
Tall glass towers with metal frames reaching toward the sky. Strange machines hummed quietly beneath the flowers, powered by glowing blue crystals embedded into the earth. Old western ranches sat beside futuristic inventions, as if the past and future had decided to exist together.
Rue stared in disbelief.
A world nobody had told her about.
A world hidden right beneath their feet.
The rumors suddenly made sense.
People weren’t afraid of Ronnie Blue because she was a killer.
They were afraid because she knew something.
Something the town wanted buried.
Rue dismounted Jolly, her boots pressing into the glowing soil as she approached one of the strange machines. Symbols were carved into the metal, familiar yet impossible to understand.
Almost like a language from another time.
She pulled out her journal and began writing.
The blue markings.
The strange technology.
The magnolias.
Everything connected.
A shadow moved between the flowers.
Rue immediately reached for her gun.
“Who’s there?”
Silence.
Then came a voice from the distance.
“You really shouldn’t have followed the trail, Rue Bennett.”
Her grip tightened.
Because whoever was standing among the magnolias…
knew her name.
“How do you know my name?” Rue demanded, her hand still resting against the grip of her gun. “And where did you come from?”
The figure remained hidden among the magnolias, their silhouette blending with the glowing fields behind them.
A soft laugh echoed through the flowers.
“Everyone knows Rue Bennett.”
The voice carried a strange familiarity, as if they had been waiting for her long before she ever arrived.
Rue narrowed her eyes.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
The figure finally stepped forward.
Their boots pressed into the glowing soil, revealing clothing unlike anything Rue had ever seen. It carried the same spirit as the people of Saint Magnolia, but it was different. The fabric shimmered under the sunlight, stitched with patterns that looked ancient and futuristic all at once.
“I came from the place you’ve been searching for,” they replied.
Rue studied them carefully.
“The place where Ronnie Blue disappeared?”
The stranger’s expression shifted.
Not fear.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
“You’ve been chasing a ghost,” they said softly. “But Ronnie was never the one who vanished.”
The wind moved through the magnolia trees, causing the glowing petals to scatter around them.
Rue looked around at the hidden world surrounding her.
The machines buried beneath the flowers.
The strange symbols carved into the metal.
The stories that never matched.
She finally understood why nobody could tell the same story about Ronnie Blue.
They weren’t telling different versions.
They were telling pieces.
“Then tell me the truth,” Rue said.
The stranger looked toward the fields behind her.
“Careful what you ask for, Rue Bennett. The truth has a way of changing the person who finds it.”
Rue’s eyes widened as she listened carefully, every word sinking deeper than the last.
She had found the answer.
After all the newspaper clippings, the rumors, the stories passed around town, and the nights spent searching through her father’s library, she finally stood in front of the truth.
But somehow, the truth only created more questions.
What was the real story behind Ronnie Blue?
Not the version told by frightened townsfolk.
Not the version printed in old newspapers.
Not the version twisted by rumors until a woman became nothing more than a warning.
The stranger watched as Rue’s expression shifted, realizing she had spent her entire journey chasing a legend instead of a person.
“The world remembers what it wants to remember,” the stranger said.
Rue looked down at the journal in her hands, filled with every piece of evidence she had collected.
Every lie.
Every half-truth.
Every missing piece.
“So everything they said about her was wrong?” Rue asked.
The stranger remained silent for a moment.
“Not everything.”
The answer made Rue look up.
“Then what was true?”
A breeze swept through the magnolia fields, carrying the sweet scent of the flowers through the air.
The stranger glanced toward the glowing horizon.
“Ronnie Blue existed,” they finally said. “She was powerful. She was dangerous. And she changed this world.”
Rue tightened her grip on the journal.
“But she wasn’t the monster they made her out to be.”
The magnolias around them began to glow brighter.
And for the first time, Rue realized she wasn’t searching for the end of Ronnie Blue’s story.
She had only just found the beginning.
“The answer is right in front of your face,” the stranger said, their voice calm but carrying a hidden warning. “I just need you to say the magic words, and you’ll get it.”
Rue’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Magic words?”
She looked around the field, confused. The glowing flowers. The strange machines. The symbols carved into the metal. She had searched through every newspaper, every book, every rumor she could find.
And yet the answer was supposedly right in front of her.
“You expect me to just guess?” Rue questioned.
The stranger smiled slightly.
“You’ve been searching for Ronnie Blue this entire time, but you never stopped to ask yourself why everyone remembers her differently.”
Rue looked down at her journal.
The pages were filled with contradictions.
A thief.
A killer.
A ghost.
A woman who disappeared.
A woman who died.
A woman who never left.
Her eyes traveled back toward the magnolias swaying in the wind.
The flowers.
The blue markings.
The stories.
Everything she thought was separate suddenly felt connected.
“What are the magic words?” Rue asked.
The stranger stepped closer, their gaze meeting hers.
“The truth has always been waiting for someone brave enough to speak it.”
Rue held her breath.
Then, slowly, she looked toward the glowing fields and whispered the words that had been hidden in every story.
“Ronnie Blue.”
The ground beneath her boots began to hum.
The magnolias opened their petals, releasing a wave of blue light that spread across the field.
Rue stumbled back, shielding her eyes as the world around her began to shift.
After surviving Laurie’s calculated humiliation and watching Fez brutally attack Nate at the New Year’s party, you are forced to confront the violence surrounding the man you love and choose, for tonight, to stay beside him anyway.
13. New Year, Same Shit
Fez can usually make danger look boring.
That is one of the first things you learned about him.
A man can walk into the store with blood on his shirt and Fez will blink at him like he is trying to decide whether to charge him for a lighter. Someone can raise their voice in the living room and Fez will lean back, smoke curling from his mouth, calm as a grave. Even when he is scared, he knows how to make it look like nothing. Like breathing. Like business. Like he has seen worse and survived it, so why should this be any different?
But this time, it is different.
You can tell before anyone says a word.
Fez keeps checking the mirrors. Not casually. Not once or twice. Again and again, eyes flicking up, jaw set, one hand tight around the steering wheel. His knuckles are healed now, mostly, but you still remember them split open and red. You remember the money. Mouse. The silence afterward.
Ash is in the passenger seat, quiet in a way that makes him seem older than he should ever have to be.
Rue sits beside you in the back, knees tucked up, looking like she is trying to become part of the car seat. She keeps rubbing at her sleeves, pulling them over her hands, eyes moving between Fez and the window.
Custer is there too, which is already a problem.
He talks too much. That is the first crime. The second is that he talks when nobody wants him to.
“So I’m telling him, like, bro, you can’t just say that to people,” Custer says, laughing at his own story. “Like, that’s how motherfuckers get shot.”
Nobody laughs. Not Fez. Not Ash. Not Rue. Not you.
Custer either does not notice or does not care.
You sit in the backseat with your arms folded, watching Fez’s jaw tick. Once. Twice. Again.
Your stomach tightens.
“Fez.”
His eyes flick to the rearview mirror. “Yeah, baby?”
“Should I be worried?”
For half a second, nobody speaks. Then Fez looks back at the road. “Nah, baby. Just stay close.”
Ash mutters, “That means yes.”
You look at him. Fez shoots Ash a warning glance. Ash stares out the windshield like he did not say anything.
Custer laughs awkwardly. “Damn. Y’all tense as hell.”
Rue looks at you, expression dry even through the fear. “Great vibe in here.”
You almost laugh. Fez does not. That is how you know it is bad.
The streets change the farther you drive. Nicer blocks fade into older ones. Older ones fade into places where the lights do not feel decorative so much as necessary. The car rolls through neighborhoods you do not know, past houses with dark windows, corner stores, cracked sidewalks, chain-link fences, Christmas lights still hanging weeks after Christmas like nobody had the energy to take them down.
New year. Same shit.
That is what Rue said earlier, standing in Fez’s kitchen with her eyes too flat.
You had wanted to argue. To say something hopeful. To say that maybe things could be different this time.
But then Fez grabbed his keys, Ash tucked a gun into his waistband, and now you are in the backseat on the way to meet a woman no one will say enough about.
Laurie.
The name itself feels soft. That makes it worse.
When Fez finally parks, you look out the window and feel your stomach drop.
The house looks normal. Too normal.
That is the thing no one tells you about danger. Sometimes it does not look like a warehouse or a dark alley or a man with a knife.
Sometimes it looks like curtains in the window. A porch light. A walkway. A house where someone might bake cookies or watch game shows or fold laundry while a dog sleeps on the rug.
You hate that.
Fez cuts the engine. No one moves right away.
Then Ash opens his door.
“Let’s get this shit over with.”
Fez turns in his seat, eyes finding yours. “Stay close.”
You nod. Rue swallows hard beside you.
Custer gets out like he is walking into a hangout instead of a room full of potential consequences.
You step out into the cold, wrapping your jacket tighter around yourself. Fez comes around the car and places one hand at your lower back as you walk toward the house.
Not possessive. Not exactly.
Grounding. Protective. A reminder that he knows you are there. A reminder that he hates that you are there.
Inside, the air smells clean. Not fresh. Clean. But not too clean.
Laurie sits in the room like she has been waiting without waiting. She is calm. Soft-voiced. Terrifying in a way that takes you a moment to understand because your brain keeps trying to categorize her as harmless.
That is the trap.
Her hair is neat. Her clothes are simple. Her face is open in a way that feels almost kind.
Almost.
Her eyes move over Fez first. Then Ash. Then Rue. Then you. They stay there a second too long. “You’re very pretty,” Laurie says softly.
Fez’s hand tightens at your back. You feel it through your jacket. For one strange, awful second, your mother’s training takes over before fear does.
Polite smile. Straight posture. Do not show weakness. Say thank you when complimented, even if the compliment feels like a hand closing around your throat.
“Thank you,” you say.
Laurie doesn’t smile back. “No. I mean it. Pretty girls get underestimated. That’s useful.”
The room seems to get colder. Fez shifts slightly in front of you. Not enough to be dramatic. Not enough for a normal person to notice. But enough that you feel the movement, enough that his shoulder cuts into Laurie’s view of your body, enough that he puts himself between her attention and you.
Laurie notices. Of course she does. Her face does not change. That is worse. “Well,” she says. “Let’s make sure everyone is comfortable.”
Nobody in that room is comfortable. That is the point.
It happens fast after that. Not loud. Not frantic.
Somehow that makes it worse.
Laurie’s people move like they have done this before. Like this is routine. Like humiliation is just another step in the process. They need to make sure nobody is wearing wires. They say it calmly.
Professionally.
Like they are asking everyone to remove their shoes before stepping onto clean carpet.
Fez understands before you do.
His body goes rigid. “No,” he says immediately.
The man near the wall looks at him.
Fez’s hand slides from your lower back to your hip, drawing you slightly behind him. “Nah. She ain’t even part of this.”
Laurie’s head tilts. “Then she shouldn’t be in the room.”
The words are soft. Reasonable. Correct. That is what makes Fez’s face tighten. Because she is right. And he hates that she is right.
You feel everyone looking at you. Rue’s face is pale. Ash is watching the men, eyes sharp and flat, one hand hanging low near his side. Custer looks uncomfortable for the first time all day.
Fez turns slightly toward you. His eyes find yours. “Baby.”
He does not finish the sentence. He does not have to. You know what he wants to say. You can leave. Except you cannot. Not really.
Not without making it worse. Not without putting Fez in a position where he has to choose pride over survival. Not without Laurie learning exactly where the pressure point is and pressing harder.
So something inside you goes cold. Not numb. Controlled.
It is a familiar feeling, in a horrible way.
Your mother taught you this. Not for rooms like this. Never for rooms like this.
But she taught you how to stand still while being inspected. How to let people look at you and give them nothing. How to turn shame into posture. How to keep your hands steady when your whole body wants to shake.
Perfect daughter training. Survival armor. You lift your chin. “It’s fine.”
Fez’s jaw clenches. “It ain’t.”
You look at him. “It’s fine.”
He hears what you mean that time. Do not make it worse. His eyes flash with helpless fury, but he steps back half an inch. Not away from you. Just enough.
The room moves around you. You keep your gaze on Laurie. Not on the men. Not on Rue. Not even on Fez, because if you look at Fez too long, you might fall apart.
The moment is not sexual. It is worse. It is humiliating. Clinical. Cold. A stripping away of privacy, of dignity, of the lie that you can keep yourself untouched just by being careful.
You move like you are underwater. Your fingers feel detached from your body. Your heartbeat is too loud in your ears.
Fez keeps his eyes on your face the entire time.
That matters. He does not look down. Not once.
He watches your eyes like he is trying to hold you in place from across the room. Like if he keeps looking at you, you will not disappear into the awful silence of it.
Ash watches the men. Fez watches you. You watch Laurie. Laurie watches everybody.
When it is over, when you are allowed to dress again, your hands do not shake until the last button is done.
Then they tremble once. Only once. You tuck them into your sleeves.
Laurie’s voice floats through the room.
“You’re calmer than I expected.”
You look at her. For a second, you think of your mother at dinner tables, book signings, charity luncheons. Women with soft voices and sharp smiles. Women who know how to gut you without raising a hand. Women who can destroy a room and then ask if anyone wants coffee.
“I grew up around women like you,” you say.
Laurie hums. “No, you didn’t.”
Your stomach drops. Because she is right. Your mother is cruel. Laurie is something else.
Your mother wants control. Laurie wants leverage. Your mother wants you small. Laurie wants to know how small you can be made. And the scariest part is that she says it kindly.
Fez moves then, just a fraction, closer to you.
“Are we done?” he asks.
Laurie turns her eyes to him. The smile stays. “For now.”
The ride back is worse than the ride there. No one talks at first. Custer tries once. Ash tells him to shut the fuck up. He does.
You sit in the back with your arms wrapped around yourself, staring out the window at streets blurring past. Rue is beside you, quiet and hollow. Fez drives. Ash watches the side mirror.
The car smells like cold air and old smoke and everyone’s fear.
Fez finally speaks when you are halfway home. “I never shoulda brought you.” His voice is low. Rough.
You look at the back of his head. “You didn’t bring me. I came.”
“That ain’t the point.”
“It kind of is.”
“No,” he says, his hand tightening on the wheel. “It ain’t.”
You look down at your hands. They are steady now. That feels unfair. “I knew it was dangerous.”
“You didn’t know it was that.”
“No,” you admit. “I didn’t.”
Fez’s jaw works. “I did.”
The guilt in his voice makes your chest ache.
Rue shifts beside you. Her eyes flick between you and Fez, then down to her lap. She looks like she wants to say something and knows there is no version of it that makes the air lighter.
Ash says nothing. That might be the kindest thing he can do.
A red light catches the car. Fez stops. For a few seconds, the whole world is red glow on the windshield.
Then he reaches back without looking.
His hand finds yours. He grips it hard. Not enough to hurt. Enough that you know he needs to feel that you are still there.
You hold on just as tightly. The light turns green. He does not let go.
New Year’s Eve comes like the world has learned nothing.
Everyone dresses up. Everyone drinks too much. Everyone pretends a calendar changing means people do too.
The party is already alive by the time you get there, music shaking the walls, bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, glitter and sweat and smoke hanging in the air. East Highland collects itself under one roof and acts shocked when everything feels flammable.
You arrive with Fez and Ash. Fez is quiet. Not cold. Not distant. Just still holding something under his skin from Laurie’s house.
You can feel it when his hand rests at your lower back. The protective pressure. The way his eyes move over every room before he lets you step fully into it. The way he clocks exits, corners, faces.
Ash disappears almost immediately to handle something near the back.
Fez keeps you close for a while. You do not complain.
Maddy finds you first. She looks perfect.
That is always how you know something is wrong.
Her outfit is sharp, her makeup flawless, her hair done like she is daring anyone to remember that Nate Jacobs ever put his hands on her.
“Bitch,” she says, grabbing your wrist. “You’re with me for a second.”
Fez lets you go, but not before his thumb brushes once over your hip. “Stay where I can see you.”
Maddy lifts a brow. “Romantic.”
Fez does not smile. Maddy’s face softens just a little. “Relax. I’ll bring her back alive.”
You follow Maddy into the crowd, but your eyes keep flicking back. Fez stands near the edge of the room, watching. Not just you. Everything.
Rue is already there, looking like she has been awake for three days and asleep for a year. Jules is nearby, bright and distant, glowing in the way stars glow right before you remember they are mostly fire and death.
Rue catches your eye. You give her a small smile.
She gives one back. It does not last.
Later, you see Nate. It is not dramatic at first.
Just a shift in the room. A few people looking over. A familiar height near the hall. That clean, hard face.
The kind of boy adults look at and see future. The kind girls look at and see a warning too late.
He sees you before you can look away. His smile is small. Your stomach turns.
You move toward Fez without thinking. He notices before you reach him. “What?”
“Nate’s here.”
Fez looks across the room. When his eyes land on Nate, his whole body changes. You touch his arm. “Fez.”
“I see him.”
“I know.”
Nate is talking to someone, but his gaze keeps flicking back. To you. To Fez. To the space between you, like he knows it is tender enough to hurt.
You try to breathe through it.
Then Nate drifts closer. Not all the way. Just close enough. Coward’s distance.
He looks at Fez first. Then you.
“Nice to see you two still playing house.”
Fez does not move. Your fingers tighten around his sleeve.
Nate’s eyes drop to your hand. “You know,” he says casually, “your parents must be thrilled. Their little girl and her dealer boyfriend. Real cute.”
Your face heats. Fez’s jaw ticks once. Nate’s smile sharpens. “Careful, Fez. Wouldn’t take much to get you locked up. Especially with her involved.”
The words are not loud. Most people do not hear them. But Fez does. You do. And that is enough.
Fez takes one step forward. You catch his wrist.
“Don’t,” you whisper.
For a second, you think he might listen. His eyes flick to yours. There is something terrible in them. Not anger. Decision.
He gently pulls his wrist free. “Stay here, ma.”
Your heart drops. “Fez.”
He is already moving. Nate sees him coming. For one second, the smirk stays. Then Fez hits him.
The whole room erupts.
It happens fast and slow at the same time. The first hit snaps Nate’s head sideways. Someone screams.
Then Fez is on him, fists moving with a fury that feels like it has been waiting for months. Not just for you. Not only for you. Rue. Jules. Maddy. The threats. The bruises. The way Nate keeps touching everyone’s life and walking away clean.
People surge forward. People back up.
Maddy screams something you cannot make out.
Rue stands frozen near the edge of the room, eyes wide.
Ash appears out of nowhere, watching the crowd more than the fight.
You push forward, panic choking you. “Fez!”
He does not hear you. Or maybe he does and cannot stop. Nate’s blood hits the floor. That is when it becomes real. Not a fantasy. Not revenge. Not some righteous movie moment.
Real. Ugly. Dangerous.
You grab Fez’s arm when there is finally enough space, when people start pulling back, when Nate is on the floor and the room is full of screams and music still playing like the house itself has not caught up.
“Fez,” you say, voice shaking. “Stop.”
This time, he hears you. His chest heaves. His knuckles are bloody. Again.
His eyes find yours. For one horrible second, he looks like he does not know where he is. Then he sees you. Actually sees you. The fury cracks.
Ash is beside him immediately. “We gotta go.”
Fez stands, breathing hard, eyes still locked on you.
You are shaking. So is he. “Come on,” Ash says sharply. “Now.”
You do not look at Nate. You cannot. You let Fez take your hand, and the three of you move fast through the house, past stunned faces, past whispers already turning into stories, past Maddy standing with one hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes.
Outside, the cold air hits like a slap. Fez’s hand is still around yours. Too tight. You do not tell him.
Ash gets in the back. You climb into the passenger seat. Fez starts the car with bloody hands. Nobody speaks until you are several streets away.
Then you whisper, “What did you do?”
Fez stares at the road. “What I had to.”
“No.” Your voice breaks. “No, Fez, that was not…”You stop because you do not know how to finish. Not necessary. Not safe. Not small.
He says nothing. Ash leans forward from the back.
“Don’t do this right now.”
You turn on him. “Don’t do what?”
“Fight in the car while he drivin’ with blood on his hands.”
That shuts you up. Not because he is wrong.
Because he is twelve, and he sounds like an old man, and that alone makes your chest hurt.
Fez’s breathing is still heavy. You look down at his knuckles on the wheel. Your stomach twists.
The same hands that held yours in Laurie’s car. The same hands that brought you flowers. The same hands that just beat Nate Jacobs bloody in front of half the school.
All of it is true.
That is the worst part. Nobody is only one thing. Not Fez. Not you. Not anyone.
When you get back to the house, Ash goes inside first. He does not say goodnight. He does not make a joke. He just disappears down the hall.
You stand in the kitchen while Fez washes his hands.
The water runs pink at first. Then pale. Then clear.
You watch from the doorway, arms wrapped around yourself.
Fez does not look at you. “I ain’t sorry,” he says.
You close your eyes. “I know.”
“He had it comin’.”
“I know.”
“You don’t gotta look at me like that.”
Your eyes open. “Like what?”
He finally turns off the water and looks at you. “Like you scared of me.”
Your heart cracks. “I’m not scared of you.”
He laughs once. Soft. Bitter. “You should be.”
You step toward him. “No.”
“Baby.”
“No,” you repeat. You take his hands carefully, even though they are raw and bruised and still trembling slightly. “I am scared for you.”
His face shifts. That gets through.
You keep holding his hands. “You can’t keep solving things by bleeding.”
He looks down at your fingers around his. “I don’t know another way.”
The honesty of it lands heavier than any excuse could. For a second, you have no idea what to say.
Then you bring his hands to your mouth and kiss the unbroken skin near his knuckles.
Fez’s eyes close. Just for a second.
“I don’t want to lose you,” you whisper.
He opens his eyes. “You ain’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
He looks at you then, really looks, and the fight drains out of him.
The house is quiet around you.
Somewhere else, sirens might be coming. Somewhere else, Nate might be bleeding into someone’s carpet. Somewhere else, Rue and Jules are still caught in whatever ending they keep writing for each other.
But here, in this kitchen, Fez just looks tired.
So tired.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he says.
Your throat tightens. “I’m sorry you felt like you had to do it.”
He does not answer. Maybe because he still does. Maybe because part of him always will.
You step into him, slowly enough that he can move away if he wants to. He does not. His arms come around you, careful at first, then tight. His face drops into your hair. You stand like that for a long time.
No music. No TV. No countdown. No midnight kiss.
Just the two of you in the aftermath of a new year that already feels doomed around the edges.
Fez presses his mouth to your temple. “You stayin’?”
The question is quiet. Smaller than it should be.
You lean back enough to look at him. “I’m here.”
His eyes search yours, “Yeah?”
You nod. “I’m here.”
Not because tonight was okay. Not because what happened was simple. Not because you are not scared.
You are. You are scared of Laurie’s calm voice and Mouse’s smile and Nate’s blood and Fez’s hands and the way love keeps dragging you into rooms you should never have entered. But you are also scared of leaving him alone in them.
So you stay. For now. For tonight. For whatever comes after the sirens and the whispers and the consequences.
new jealous! maddy fic is up! lmk what you think :)
Master of None (1430 words) by randomcactaceae
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Euphoria (TV 2019)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Rue Bennett & Maddy Perez, Angel/Rue Bennett
Characters: Maddy Perez, Rue Bennett, Angel (Euphoria)
Additional Tags: Rue Bennett is Oblivious, Rue is in love with Angel, Maddy is mad!, set in S3 canon, Bisexual Maddy Perez, Rue being Rue, envy at its finest, Maddy Perez Needs a Hug
Series: Part 2 of Lavender skies
Summary:
Maddy’s working on some shoots with the girls at the Silver Slipper when she notices Rue flirting with Angel.
They’re talking, laughing, looking at each other with a glow in their eyes.
And Maddy is furious. Oh, so furious about it.
maddyrue fic (When the sun came up, you were looking at me) chapter 4 is now posted!! hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!
You can read it here
Full summary:
When the sun came up, you were looking at me (7716 words) by randomcactaceae
Chapters: 4/6
Fandom: Euphoria (TV 2019)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Rue Bennett/Maddy Perez, Rue Bennett & Maddy Perez, Fezco/Lexi Howard, Fezco & Lexi Howard
Characters: Rue Bennett, Maddy Perez, Lexi Howard, Fezco (Euphoria), Big Eddy, Bishop, Magick - Character
Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Bisexual Maddy Perez, Sober Rue Bennett, Rue Bennett Needs a Hug, Protective Maddy Perez, Rue Bennett is Trying Her Best, Hurt/Comfort, another wound care fic, nonchalant Rue, lexi and fez are in love, established Fexi, soft Maddy Perez, Kind of a fix-it
Summary:
It was another night at the Silver Slipper. Rue monitored and checked in on the girls, Big Eddy sat on his sofa, the dancers did everything for a paycheck. That same night, Maddy went over to check some work matters with Big Eddy and Alamo. When she saw Rue had been in a fight with a man, something told her to protect her.
OR Rue gets into a fight at work. Maddy takes care of her.
TW: mentions of past violence/abuse, graphic wound description.
