#I don't even think that counts as passing
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Hey, you.
Are you also upset and angry about the election? Are you concerned about the likely election tampering and collusion that won* Trump this election?
EVERY SINGLE AMERICAN who voted blue in this election needs to do this. Don't lie down and let fascism take hold of this nation even more than it already has.
Call (202) 456-1111 Tuesday—Thursday 11:00AM—3:00PM and demand an investigation.
Check the status of your ballot at vote.org. Report any issues to the DOJ voter fraud hotline: 1-800-253-3931 for those whose ballot isn’t being counted.
Here are some state-specific hotlines as well:
Here is an in-depth guide to effectively contact your representatives (lik is different from pictures below).
Here is the submission form to submit concerns the the White House as well as instructions and sample text ideas below (not pasting the actual text as incentive for people to write their own—if you submit a message or multiple messages, make sure there are differences so that nothing gets flagged as spam).
Lastly, I'd like to say that for the record I'm not advocating for her as some kind of savior; she's a politician with flaws and dirty laundry, but I also would urge you to consider donating to the Harris-Walz campaign fund, which has been updated to include funding for a ballot recount.
I think this is a very important thing to support and to spread, as it has appeared quietly in the fund's footnotes. I would like to think that the admin wouldn't go down without swinging before January, but unless they get some money thrown at them I'm not sure the odds of us finding out will be as good—sad as that is. Remember, even if it's just a dollar, or less—if everyone who ran across this on their dash donated, it would still generate thousands.
I'm not saying all this to be a shill for a politician who's still a basically-centrist politician at the end of the day. I'm doing this because I'm pissed off and desperate to not see my home become a totalitarian dystopia.
I know that as more time passes, as more government positions are announced by the charlatan-elect, as people clap their hands in celebration of an anti-constitutional takeover, it can feel hopeless to fight. It isn't. January 20th is still months away.
This is not the time to submit to despair. This is the time to put our dukes up. The bystander effect is how a movement dies, and when affirmative action has to be taken remotely, it's an even bigger threat. Don't assume. Don't be these guys:
Call your reps. Track your ballots. Defend and report those ballots if missing, and regardless of that, submit those White House comments.
Even if you can't do all of these, try to do any little bit you can. Doing a small something is ALWAYS better than doing nothing, and for my fellow disabled, adhd, exhausted, etc. bitches I know that's the difference between making any progress or not.
This should go without saying, but please reblog this post. Send it to people, even people outside of Tumblr. Spread it regardless of whether you live in the US. I would also advise sharing more than once so followers who are AFK the first time(s) can see it during downtime.
And if anyone turns their nose up at you and says what you're doing is pointless—even if that voice comes from inside—shut that shit down. There's no perfect third trolley track that's going to hand down action free of conflict or flaws, but there's also a raging, stupid fascist in line for the presidency.
This is no time for half measures.
Don't give up. Don't shut up. Don't hand over your rights without a fight.
*hoe cheated
#us elections#election 2024#kamala harris#donald trump#project 2025#us politics#presidential election#harris walz 2024#2024 election#recount#vote blue#demand a recount#skit yells#politics
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There are a variety of other bookmarking websites and browser options that allow you to privately collate bookmarks with notes. The option is there for you to use this Ao3 feature that way (by marking it Private). But what baffles me is people behave shocked when the reason they keep saying they write nasty bookmarks is to "warn" other readers. (cruel, unkind ones. I'm not talking about "untagged X" that's just a heads up to other readers, or notations like chapter count, or a reminder of the story "the one with the goat". I mean ones they're putting in bookmarks because they're too cowardly to put it in comments where they know they'll get deleted/blocked.) If you are warning the general public that Author writes what you consider OOC Blorbo who had the audacity to bottom for other OOC Blorbo.... Why is it beyond your scope of comprehension that writers would read this as well? Writers are in the same fandom. They read the same fics. They enjoy the same parts of fandom as you. I have blocked Ao3 accounts simply for writing something nasty on someone else's work. You behave like that elsewhere? Suffer the consequences. You may never notice, but I can rest easy knowing I'll never have to interact with someone so entitled. And that's really what it is, entitlement. Readers forgetting that Authors are also a part of the fandom community, not just slathering content machines who pump out wank material for the void to consume silently, cruelly, and with often not even a passing kudo to acknowledge the time and effort spent on writing. So yeah. I think that "it's ours to do what we want with" is kinda bullshit, when i'm specifically talking about unkindness that's *permanently attached and publicly visible*. You don't have to slather praise, just. Don't be a dick.
Been hearing this is a problem again. Don't be a dick in bookmarks, folks. And yes while I made this image, I'm giving free reign. Take it. Spread it far and wide. Because I'm hearing that some readers don't know that their bookmarks are visible.
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Over the Limit - pt.iv
jenna ortega x female reader
part i | part ii | part iii | part iv
summary: You and Jenna each reflect on your own choices and the growing tensions between you both. Torn between loyalty, responsibility, and personal longing, what does this growing conflict mean for the future of your alliance?
word count: 12.8k
————
"So, victory sex?" Hunter teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"Victory sex?" You echoed, genuinely confused. "With who?"
"Who else? Your little Viper girl," he replied, rolling his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
After dropping Jenna off at home, you'd shot Hunter a quick text, asking if he wanted to come over. After the whirlwind of the race, and the intense feelings stirred up by Jenna, you needed someone to debrief with—someone who knew about the tangled situation you'd gotten yourself into. Fortunately, your mom didn't know Hunter was part of the Sinners, so he was in the clear to hang out without raising any suspicions.
"Come on, Hunter, I barely know the girl."
"Doesn't seem that way to me," he shrugs, taking a seat on your couch and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. "You let her wear your jacket, didn't you?"
Did everyone see that?
You roll your eyes and flop down beside him, letting out a tired sigh. "That doesn't mean anything."
"Uh-huh. Whatever you say." Hunter smirks, but his teasing tone amplifies after a beat. "But there's no way you didn't feel Racer's High after winning."
You didn't need him to define Racer's High. You knew he was referring to that primal, raunchy, adrenaline rush of a feeling that overtook you once you won the race a few hours ago. You shudder remembering how much you yearned for Jenna in that moment.
"So, how are you feeling about it all? The race, the attention... her?"
You hesitate, considering how much to say. You trust Hunter—he's the only one in the crew you can really open up to, but you're also not ready to dive into the whole Jenna situation. Not with everything going on, especially since you're not sure how deep things go with Percy and this "Ghost Smoke" deal.
"I don't know," you finally say, running a hand through your hair. "The race was wild. Winning felt... intense. I get why people get hooked on that feeling."
Hunter raises an eyebrow. "And?"
"And... I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this. Like, there's this whole side to racing I'm not seeing."
He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, watching you carefully. "What do you mean?"
You glance at him, trying to gauge how much you can say without tipping too much of your hand. "I don't know, man. I've been hearing things—whispers about this new stuff called Ghost Smoke floating around Brimstone. You heard anything about that?"
Hunter's eyes narrow, and for a second, you think maybe you've pushed too far. But then he exhales slowly. "I've heard the name. It's bad news, Y/n. Real bad. That shit's spreading fast, and people are already getting hooked. Some of the younger guys are sniffing around for it. Why are you asking?"
You shrug, trying to play it cool. "Just heard it mentioned. Thought it might be connected to some of the things I've been noticing. You don't think the Vipers are involved, do you?"
Hunter goes quiet, his face unreadable. Then he leans back, crossing his arms. "I don't know, and I'm not looking to find out. You shouldn't either. Percy's been getting into things outside of racing, and if Ghost Smoke's part of that, it's not something you or anyone else in the crew wants to be tangled up in."
You nod, though his answer doesn't satisfy you. Not because you don't believe him—but because you have this sinking feeling that the situation is bigger than either of you realize.
The conversation shifts after that, and the rest of the night passes with more casual banter. But the unease never fully leaves your mind.
"Looks like Madison's got a thing for you."
You raise an eyebrow, laughing lightly. "Mikey? That girl's never even cracked a smile at me. Pretty sure she barely tolerates me."
Hunter shrugs, smirking. "Nah, trust me. She was asking about you the other day in the garage."
Your brow furrows slightly. Was it because of what I asked about Percy? A small part of you wonders if Madison's caught onto your suspicions.
"And even during the Viper and Raven races, she was giving you these weird looks."
"What does that even mean, Hunter?" You roll your eyes, half-amused, half-worried.
He chuckles, clearly enjoying this too much. "Hell if I know, but winning that race definitely got you on some people's radar."
Maybe at one point, being on the radar of a few girls would've mattered to you, but not anymore.
————
While Hunter crashed on the couch, you spent the entire night tossing and turning in bed. If someone had told you a month ago that you'd be neck-deep in street races and shady dealings—all for the sake of a girl—you would have called them insane.
When dawn finally broke, you shuffled out of bed and headed into the kitchen, finding Hunter gone and your mom brewing a fresh pot of coffee.
"Morning, Mom," you yawn, stretching your arms out. "Did Hunter leave already?"
"You just missed him. He said he'd be back later," she replies with a gentle smile.
You hum in response, pouring yourself a cup of coffee, savoring the warmth. It was in these quiet, mundane moments that you hated the path you were on more than anything. Between the mess with Jenna, the unpredictability with Percy, and the weight of secrets and family legacies, you sometimes wished you could just be normal—not tangled up in rivalries or trying to make sense of feelings you didn't dare admit.
"You've changed," your mother's voice broke you out of your thoughts, catching you mid-sip.
"Changed?" You raise a brow, joining her at the dining table. "What do you mean?"
She sighs, studying you with a mix of curiosity and concern. "You seem... happier in some ways but also more stressed. Something's weighing on you."
You stare down at your coffee, catching your own reflection in its dark surface, letting your mother's words sink in. Of course she'd notice something different—you're her child. But she's right; you have changed. And now, in this rare quiet moment in the chaos your life has become over the past month, you're finally realizing just how much. You've changed so damn much—and the thought terrifies you, especially because you can't even pinpoint when it happened.
Or you do. And that was the scary part.
A month ago Anton told you to find what's your purpose, your drive. What makes your heart race. What's worth risking everything for.
But you'd been so careful, you tell yourself. You abandoned her the first night you met, didn't even share your name—but now, she's got far more than just a name. She's got you feeding her intel, leading her through Brimstone like her own personal guide, pulling you deeper into a world you swore you'd keep at arm's length.
When did it happen? When did you start dropping her home, buying each other jackets, eating ice cream together—and, hell, when did you start racing? Racing, something you'd vowed never to do. And now here you are, about to walk into a private meeting that likely involves drug lords fueling Brimstone's biggest epidemic—all because she needs leverage on Percy. Leverage to protect herself from some mystery he's holding over her, something she still won't tell you.
You try to rationalize. She's got leverage on you, too. She's got footage of you stealing her dad's car. But deep down, you know she'd only pulled that card to hook you in. She wouldn't actually use it. You knew that. You knew her.
Except—you didn't. You didn't really know a damn thing about this girl, yet here you are, throwing caution to the wind for her. Risking everything for her. Breaking your own rules, doing things you'd avoided for the past twenty years...all because of her. And all way too fast.
Maybe it's because you're finally sitting in front of your mom, and to her, you'll always be her little girl. And facing her now, all you can see is the woman who once opened the door to find cops there, telling her that her husband, the father of her nine-year-old kid, was dead. You remember watching her piece together her shattered heart, all while carrying the weight of resentment for the racing that took him. And now, somehow, you're part of it too. How could you put her through this?
"Y/n?"
Your mom's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you lift your gaze from your coffee to her face.
"I've been calling your name for a while now. What the hell is going on with you kid?" she asks concerned.
Everything you wished you could tell her was everything you couldn't. Everything she warned you to stay away from.
"Look I know I haven't been the best mom," she sighs. "But I did it because I care. I'm strict because I know how quickly things can go south in this shithole of a town."
"You're not a bad mom, stop—"
"I can tell there's something on your mind, I don't know if it's good or bad. But I want to know Y/n/n."
Just as you were about to respond your phone pinged and of course it was Jenna.
Hey Oil spillage, just got news that the meeting moved. It's on Friday at 10p.m. now.
Wonderful news. After the realizations you just had, you were not ready to face Jenna again. In fact you would rather anything but see her. And now you can avoid her for six more days. Without replying to her message, you turn off your phone and turn your attention to your mom.
"I guess I've just been thinking about my future and what that looks like." You decide to open up a little, seeing no apparent harm.
Your mom nods slowly, her brow furrowing slightly as she absorbs your words. "And I also have to consider the fact that we're in Brimstone," you add, your voice dropping a notch.
She looks at you intently, searching your face for clues. "I get that this place can feel limiting, Y/n. But remember, it doesn't have to define you. You have the power to change your path."
You take a sip of your coffee, contemplating her words. "It's just...sometimes it feels like I'm caught between what I want and what I should be doing."
"And what do you want?"
"I don't know! I don't know what I want," you finish, softer now.
She squints, registering the tension in your voice. "Then, what do you think you should be doing?"
Racing. The Club. The Sinners.
But you can't say that. Not to your anti-racing mom, but clearly your face says it for you.
"Y/n," she sighs. "There's no place for you in that life."
"You don't understand, Mom! It's easy on paper to say 'stay away.' But people talk. I'm the daughter of a founding member; they expect me to be part of this."
"And how exactly are you hearing all this talk?" she asks, voice tinged with sass. "I thought I told you to stay away from Anton and that whole club."
"I am!" you lie. "But people at the warehouse still talk," you lie again. "Is working in a warehouse really what you want for me? For the rest of my life?"
"If it keeps you out of that club, then yes, a thousand times over. That club killed your father. I don't get your fascination with it!"
"Maybe I like cars! Maybe I want to feel close to him by doing something that mattered to him. You never even talk about him," you say heatedly, pushing yourself back from the table.
"Sit back down," she says, rubbing her temples.
You sit, your frustration simmering.
Your mom's eyes, usually a fortress, softened with a sigh. "You're right, I don't talk about him much. Not because he wasn't worth it, but because it's painful. But let me tell you something about your dad, something I should've told you sooner."
A shadow of confusion crossed your face.
"He was a founder, sure," she admitted, a bitter smile playing at her lips. "One of the Y/l/n brothers who started this whole thing. But that's not the part of the story that matters. Not the part that should define how you see racing."
Your heart stilled, anticipation prickling at your skin. "What do you mean, then? What's the part I'm missing?"
Her eyes narrowed slightly, focusing on a memory only she could see. "Your dad wanted out."
The weight of her words hung between you, more jarring than the rumble of any engine. The idea of your father—the man who had seemingly built his entire world around speed, thrill, and the camaraderie of the club—wanting to leave felt impossible.
"What do you mean, 'out'?" you asked, the question barely a whisper.
She sighed, running a hand over her tired face. "He didn't start the club for the glory, Y/n. Not for the rush or to become some legend everyone would talk about. He did it because he felt trapped, and for a while, racing felt like freedom. But when things got bigger, more dangerous... he saw where it was heading. He knew it wasn't sustainable. He wanted out before it swallowed him whole."
You stared at her, trying to process this new version of the man you thought you knew. The stories you'd grown up on were all about victory, triumph, the unmatched skills of your father and the empire he helped build. But no one talked about the nights he lay awake, second-guessing the choices that led him there.
"Why didn't he leave, then?"
Her eyes glistened with a pain that seemed older than time, a sorrow she'd carried long. "He did, or... he was supposed to. That last race—the one that took him from us—it was meant to be his farewell. He promised me it would be the last time, that after that night, we would start over, somewhere far away from all of this."
You felt like the ground beneath you had shifted. The race that defined so much of your past, the race whispered about in awe and grief—it had been an ending, but not the kind you ever imagined.
"He was going to walk away?" you asked, your own voice thick with disbelief.
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, the weight of old promises and lost dreams shining in their depths. "Yes," she whispered, a tear finally breaking free and rolling down her cheek. "He was tired of what it had become—the danger, the violence, the way it devoured everything good. He wanted out for you, for us. But fate had other plans."
You looked at her, seeing not just your mother but a woman who had lost everything for the sake of someone else's ambition. The image of your father—legendary racer, fearless leader—began to fracture, replaced by the vision of a man who was trapped, fighting for freedom that never came.
"And now," she said, drawing a shaky breath, "you have to decide if you're going to chase his ghost, or choose a different path."
Suddenly, the image of racing, of the thrill that had always called to you, shifted. It wasn't just the adrenaline, the wind whipping past and the engine's roar. It was what lay beneath—the fear, the drive to outrun something that couldn't be escaped.
"So, what does that mean for me?" you asked quietly.
Her fingers tightened around her cup, eyes meeting yours with quiet intensity. "It means you decide if racing is freedom or a cage. For your dad, it became both. You don't owe this club anything."
You sat back, absorbing the truth. Racing had always felt like destiny, an inheritance carved into the fabric of who you were. But now, for the first time, it seemed less like a birthright and more like a choice—a choice you'd have to make on your own terms.
"Do you ever... want to get out of here?" you ask, almost too quietly, afraid of the answer. "Out of Brimstone?"
A question you should've asked your mother years ago, but is only leaving you now.
She raises her eyebrows, surprised by the question. It lingers in the air between you for a moment before she sighs, looking out the window to the tired streets beyond. "Sometimes," she says finally. "Sometimes I think about it, yeah. The way this place drags people in, holds them down... It scares me for you, Y/n. I don't want you trapped here. I want you to have options, a life that's bigger than this town."
"Then why do you stay?" you press, voice softer now.
A flicker of something unreadable crosses her face. "It's complicated," she says, her voice tinged with a weariness you hadn't noticed before. "Your father was here. This was where we met, built our lives, and after he... after everything, I felt like leaving would be... giving up on him. Like walking away from the one thing he was part of."
"But you don't owe this place anything," you say, echoing her earlier words back to her. "If it's just a memory keeping you here, then... maybe we both deserve better."
She nods slowly, her gaze returning to you, eyes softer, more vulnerable than you've seen in a while. "Maybe we do," she admits, voice barely a whisper. She makes a gesture with her hand of tapping a cigarette into an ash tray—a habit you noticed since you were a child. Something she does out of nervousness.
For the first time, it feels like you're seeing eye-to-eye, both carrying parts of the same burden—one that isn't really yours to carry. You've both been holding on, afraid of what letting go might mean.
You never thought you had a bad relationship with your mom. You both just worked and worked, trying to make a life for each other. Survival mode felt like autopilot—there was no time for bonding or deep conversations. Showing care meant keeping each other going, making sure you both were okay. Talking like this felt foreign, almost like a new skill you were both trying to learn. You wonder what prompted it, this sudden need to speak the things you both usually left unsaid
"So Hunter told me you had a girlfriend—"
You face palm, "for fuck sakes."
————
"Dude you told my mom I have a girlfriend?"
"She asked me if there was anyone special in your life!" He puts his hands up defensively.
You groan, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over you. What the hell are you supposed to tell your mom if she asks about this again? The image of her face pops into your mind. "Hey Mom, here's my supposed girlfriend I met at a race I snuck off to behind your back. Don't worry, she's not a Sinner—she's a Viper, though."
Luckily, Hunter had walked in earlier from whatever he'd been up to that morning, sparing you from answering your mom's question on the spot. Now, all you have to do is figure out what to say when she inevitably brings it up again.
It's still morning as you both settle into your room, falling into the familiar rhythm of your routine. You sprawl on your bed while he spins around in your chair, his energy infectious. Hunter dives into the latest gossip, animatedly sharing every detail, and you find yourself drifting in and out of his words, letting the sound of his voice wash over you.
You phone then starts ringing, and his voice suddenly stops. You glance at the screen, and let out a heavy sigh. You've really got to change her contact name.
"Who is it?" Hunter asks, hopping off the chair and leaning closer to your phone.
"Is she not your fave Viper anymore?" He jokes, sitting at the foot of your bed. "Come on, pick it up!"
You hesitate, staring at the screen as the name blinks back at you. The tension in the room shifts, Hunter's playful smirk fading as he senses your reluctance.
"Seriously? You're just going to let it ring?"
You shake your head, biting your lip. "I—I can't, Hunter. What do I even say?"
He leans forward, a look of mock seriousness on his face. "How about, 'Hey, Jenna, what's up? Oh me? I'm just living my perfectly normal life—definitely not spiraling into an identity crisis because of you?"
You roll your eyes but can't help the smile that threatens to break through. "You're ridiculous."
"Yeah, but you know I'm right," he insists, nudging your foot with his. "Just answer it! What's the worst that could happen?"
A million thoughts race through your mind, each one heavier than the last. You're scared of what her voice will bring up—the memories, the feelings, the undeniable shift in your life since you met her. "What if she wants to see me again?"
"Uh, hello?" he raises a brow, giving you a look. "Isn't that the best-case scenario? Getting cozy with your fine, rich Summer Valley girl?"
You hesitate again, and the ringing seems to grow louder. Hunter's eyes are wide, filled with mischief and encouragement. "Come on! Just answer it already!"
"Huh, looks like I can't anymore, the ringing stopped," you smile, relieved that the ringing was cut short.
Hunter's expression shifts from playful to incredulous. "What the fuck, man? Why didn't you answer?"
You shrug, but inside, a storm of emotions brews, each thought heavier than the last. Jenna represents everything you're trying to escape, and yet everything you're drawn toward. She's the pull of a world that's dangerous, one you've seen tear lives apart—your life apart. And every second you spend with her, it feels like you're slipping further down a path you might not come back from.
You can't let that happen.
"Because I can't keep doing this," you say, the words coming out softer than you'd intended. Each moment with her feels like a step away from the life you once knew, from the version of yourself that kept your family safe. You're drawn to Jenna, but she's also a stark reminder of how much you've changed, of how close you're getting to undoing everything your mom worked so hard to protect, everything your father was trying to leave.
She makes you feel alive in ways you haven't felt in years. But that feeling comes with a vulnerability you're not sure you can handle. If you keep this up, you'll lose more than just yourself—you'll risk letting down the family that depended on you to be the strong one. The thought sends a cold chill through you.
"I don't think I'm doing the right thing, Hunter."
Hunter lets out a quiet sigh, watching you closely. "You were doing alright last night. What's got you all worked up now?"
You hesitate, the weight of it clawing at you. Saying it out loud feels like crossing a line you can't come back from. "Things just... feel different," you say, voice barely audible. "I've been doing things I never thought I would, getting in deeper than I should. I don't even recognize myself anymore."
Hunter frowns, studying you. "You're not a completely different person just because you're out there racing. Isn't this what you wanted?"
"It's not just about racing." You rub your face, trying to calm the frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Jenna's got this... hold over me. She's made me cross lines I thought I'd never touch. She's tied up in a world I swore I'd stay away from."
Hunter's gaze softens, like he's trying to understand. "Maybe she's just got you seeing things differently. Doesn't mean you're losing yourself."
But that's the problem—you can feel yourself losing your grip, and the need to push her away rises, desperate, like an instinct. You know that the closer you get to Jenna, the deeper you risk sinking into something that could destroy you both. "Maybe it's better if I keep my distance," you murmur, more to yourself than to him. "I can't let this go any further. She's in the Vipers, and that's not a world I can afford to be part of."
Hunter shakes his head, not fully understanding. "So you're just going to shut her out? Because of some fear? Even if she hasn't been around long, what you two have—it's something real—"
"No." You cut him off, a hint of desperation in your tone. "What I have with her isn't real. Not really. We just thought... we could help each other. But that's all it is."
Even as you say it, though, you can feel the lie settle in your chest, heavier than you expected.
Hunter doesn't know the whole story with Jenna and Percy, or how you got roped into digging up dirt on him. You bite your tongue, stopping yourself from saying too much. A part of you wishes you could tell him, though—because if he knew you were supposedly getting mixed up in things like Ghost Smoke, he'd be the first one pushing you to cut Jenna out of your life for good.
"Alright, let me ask you this," he says, leaning forward. "You've had your first race, you were technically a Sinner. But from what you're saying, it sounds like you've made up your mind. So, what—you're sticking to your car hijacking ways, no racing, right?"
You hesitate—even after everything your mom has told you today, and he catches it.
"There's still a part of you that wants it, Y/n. You're not sure, and that's okay. This isn't about you changing; it's about something else. Unless you can look me in the eye and say you're completely done with this racing stuff, I don't see why you have to push her away."
You don't know why either. Maybe this wasn't about racing entirely and how much you've changed. But it feels foolish now to drag yourself deeper into this world after learning your dad died trying to leave it. Point is, you need to step back before you lose yourself completely.
And as much as it hurts to admit, that might mean losing the girl who makes your heart race. Looks like you found what makes your heart race, but not what's worth risking everything for.
————
"So, should I throw the microwave at your head now or later?"
Jenna tears her gaze away from her phone, frowning at her sister. "What are you even talking about, Aliyah?"
Aliyah grins, enjoying the confusion on her sister's face. "You don't remember? You told me ages ago that if you ever fell for someone again—or got caught waiting on a text—I should throw a microwave at your head."
Jenna sighs, the memory of that ridiculous pact making her groan. "Yeah, well... Wait—hold on. I am not falling for anybody!"
Aliyah raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Uh-huh. Says the girl who's been glued to her phone all day waiting on a text. Sounds exactly like someone not falling for anybody."
Jenna scoffs, rolling her eyes, but she can't hide the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "I'm just... checking my messages. It's not that deep."
Aliyah chuckles. "Right. Not that deep. Just let me know when to start unplugging the microwave."
The older of the two shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself. "You're so dramatic."
"I just know you too well. Face it, sis—you're hooked."
Jenna scoffs, though her expression softens. "It's... complicated," she admits quietly, her fingers grazing the edge of her phone. "She's—" She stops, catching herself. She's. But she's not about to explain all that to Aliyah.
"Complicated?" Aliyah finishes, feigning shock. "You? In something complicated? Never."
"Okay, fine, enough!" Jenna laughs, trying to brush off her nerves. But her sister's words stick with her. She can't ignore the fact that she's thinking about her way more than she should be. And she knows all too well that if Percy found out, it would be a whole new problem.
Aliyah flops onto the bed, scrolling through her phone with a satisfied grin, fully aware that she's already planted the seed.
The Viper tries to focus on something else, anything else, but her mind keeps drifting back. "You're hooked."
Aliyah tilts her head, watching Jenna with a knowing look. "You don't even deny it. Whoever this person is, they've got you in knots."
Jenna rolls her eyes, trying to dismiss it, but the truth settles heavily in her chest. "It's not like that," she says, almost to herself. "It can't be."
Aliyah raises an eyebrow. "Why not? Because of Dad? Or because of that sleaze Percy?"
Jenna's jaw tightens at the mention of the men, and she looks away, fighting the urge to share too much about her mystery Brimstone girl. "Let's just say... it's not as simple as having someone in your life and calling it a day," she says finally.
Aliyah's playful demeanor fades a bit, sensing the weight in Jenna's voice. "Jenna... are you in some kind of trouble?"
For a moment, Jenna considers coming clean, but she shakes her head, forcing a smile. "When am I not in trouble?"
Aliyah's smile falters slightly, guilt seeping through her playful demeanor. She shifts in her seat, Jenna wouldn't even know this kind of trouble if it weren't for her.
Jenna catches the look in her sister's eyes and instantly regrets her words.
"Aliyah, don't," she says softly, the tension in the room shifting. "You know I don't blame you."
"I know, but I can't help feeling responsible," Aliyah whispers, looking down at her hands. The unspoken reality—that Jenna's entanglement with the Vipers was to shield Aliyah—lingered between them, heavier than any words.
"Dad shouldn't have made you—"
Jenna reaches out, squeezing her sister's hand. "We're in this together, remember? Whatever happens, I'm the one who chose to stay."
Aliyah looks up, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But it's not fair. You shouldn't have to carry this for me."
Jenna offers a small, sad smile. "Family isn't about fair. It's about being there, no matter what."
Aliyah's shoulders slump as she bites her lower lip, a familiar crease forming on her brow. The guilt that's been gnawing at her shows clearly in her eyes, and Jenna's heart clenches at the sight.
"I hate this," Aliyah whispers, her voice wavering. "Every time you walk out that door, I keep wondering if you're coming back. And it's because of me."
Jenna's tough facade cracks, and she leans forward, wrapping an arm around Aliyah's shoulders. "Hey, don't go there," she murmurs. The words are steady, meant to reassure, but the tightness in her chest betrays her. For a moment, she lets herself imagine a life free of this cycle—a life where neither of them has to look over their shoulder.
"I won't be stuck for long," Jenna finally admits, a determined edge creeping into her voice. She pulls back just enough to look Aliyah in the eyes, hoping to pass on some of that conviction. "I'm working on something, alright? This isn't forever."
Aliyah searches Jenna's face, her eyes widening with hope and hints of disbelief. "You mean it?"
Jenna nods, "I mean it. I promise."
Suddenly the sadness in Aliyah's expression is replaced with a smirk, "Does she have anything to do with it?" she asks glancing at her sister's phone.
"Don't change the subject," Jenna says, trying to sound stern but unable to keep the corner of her mouth from quirking up.
Aliyah's smirk grows, the earlier heaviness giving way to something warmer, more familiar. "I knew it. Your mystery girl isn't just another risk, is she?"
Jenna rolls her eyes but can't fully suppress a small, reluctant smile. "It's complicated, Ali. She's... well, she's a lot more than I expected."
Probably the biggest risk of all, Jenna thought
Aliyah's smirk softens into a genuine smile. "Good. You deserve more than this mess, Jen."
Jenna's heart tightens at her sister's words. "Yeah," she whispers, more to herself than to Aliyah. "Maybe I do."
Suddenly an idea stirs into the younger Ortega's mind. In a swift motion, her hand darts out and snatches Jenna's phone from the bed. Before Jenna can fully process what's happening, Aliyah is already on her feet, eyes dancing with mischief as she clutches the phone to her chest like a prize.
"Aliyah!" Jenna's voice sharpens "Seriously? Hand it over."
Aliyah tilts her head playfully, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Relax, big sister. Just checking if your mystery girl left a love note or two."
Jenna takes a step forward, trying to maintain her composure as she reaches out for the phone. "I mean it, Ali. Give. It. Back."
Aliyah shifts her weight, effortlessly dodging Jenna's reach as she chuckles. Taking advantage of the height, she holds the phone above her head, reading the chat messages. "Greaser? Pet names already?"
"Aliyah."
"Left on read for almost three hours? And here I thought you had game."
"I don't like her."
"Sure you don't," Aliyah teases, tapping the screen. "Let's see if your non-existent feelings show up when I—"
Before she can finish, the familiar ringing tone starts, and Jenna's heart drops. Aliyah's eyes widen with mock surprise. "Oops. Guess we'll see soon enough."
"Aliyah!" Jenna lunges, grabbing the phone from her sister's hand after the phone rang for a while. Without hesitation, she swiftly hits the end call button. The silence that follows crackles with tension as Jenna clutches the phone, her face flushed.
Aliyah bursts out laughing. "Wow, if that's not feelings, I don't know what is."
Jenna takes a steadying breath, unable to mask the way her pulse races. "It's not like that," she insists, more to herself than to her sister.
She couldn't help but wonder why you didn't answer your phone. You had more than enough time to answer the phone while it was ringing.
————
Two days have passed since you left Jenna's call unanswered. The rhythmic clinking of tools filled the garage as you worked tirelessly on your latest project—the stolen Aston Martin. For the past two days, the garage had been your refuge, the metallic smell of oil offering a sense of your old routine amidst the chaos. In that span, you had buried yourself in work, starting early in the morning and ending late into the night, determined to keep your mind from straying.
You stepped back to study the Aston Martin, now wrapped in a deep green that gleamed under the fluorescent lights. The change from the initial black colour was supposed to help, to make the car feel less like a painful reminder of her. But as you ran your hand over the freshly smoothed surface, sighing at the ghost of memories it evoked, you realized that nothing had changed. No matter how much you worked, every inch of that car still spoke her name.
Your phone buzzed on the workbench, a sharp intrusion that pulled your attention. A name lit up the screen—Jenna's. A message providing you the address of the meeting, nothing else. Seeing her message made your chest ache with a guilt you tried to ignore. You glanced at the glowing screen, your resolve wavering for a moment before you shoved the phone into a drawer, the metallic clang echoing in the small space.
Out of sight, out of mind.
As you smoothed out the last stubborn air pockets on the Aston Martin's fresh wrap, the sound of footsteps echoed in the garage. It was nearly 1 a.m. and no one should be around at this hour.
"Y/n?"
You turned at the familiar voice, eyes narrowing slightly before recognition softened your expression. "Mikey?"
She walked toward you, eyes curious as they swept over the car. "What are you doing here so late?" she asked, curiosity lacing her voice.
You shrugged, forcing a nonchalant tone. "Just working on a car. Needed the distraction. And you?"
Mikey tilted her head, not satisfied with the answer. "I felt like going for a drive. Thought I'd stop by first."
Her gaze shifted between you and the green Aston Martin, catching the tension in the air.
"This is the car you rolled up in with your girl right? What was on the surveillance?"
Ahh yes my girl. Now you need to come up with a believable break up story for the crew.
You clenched your jaw at her question, the mention of Jenna sending a pang through your chest. "Uh, yeah," you muttered, hoping to keep the conversation brief. Mikey's sharp intuition wasn't something to underestimate.
"Trouble in paradise?"
You sigh, "something like that, I don't really want to talk about it."
Mikey nods carefully, and deliberates her next words before speaking, "Did you want to join me on my driv—
"Okay I brought Chinese!" Hunter's voice booms through the garage.
Hunter set the bags down on a nearby workbench, the crinkling of paper and the scent of takeout breaking the heavy silence. He glanced between you and Mikey, sensing the charged atmosphere and shooting you a raised brow.
"Am I interrupting something?" Hunter asked, his usual playful tone laced with curiosity as he tossed a napkin your way.
You caught it mid-air, forcing a smirk to hide the knot in your chest. "Just working late," you replied, shrugging as if that explained everything.
Mikey's expression softened, the slight edge from moments ago replaced with a grin. "Nope, you're just in time. I was about to drag Y/n out for a drive," she said, her voice lighter now, as if trying to pull you into an easier conversation.
Hunter's brows lifted. "Oh? That's a miracle. She's been glued to that car for the last 48 hours" he teased, nudging your arm.
The mention of the past few days made your stomach tighten. You hadn't told Hunter or anyone else why you'd been so buried in work. The truth was, it kept you from thinking about Jenna. The guilt, the confusion—it all seemed simpler when muffled under the sound of engines and the smell of oil.
Mikey leaned against the Aston Martin, folding her arms. "Come on, you've been cooped up in here long enough. What's a quick drive gonna hurt?"
Before you could answer, Hunter grabbed a takeout container and tossed another to you. "Food first, you too Mikey. And then drive second," he said with a grin. "Don't think we'll let you skip out on both."
You took the container, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. Maybe stepping away from the garage—and everything it represented—would be good for you. Even if just for a moment.
You could tell a lot about a person from how they drove, and never in a million years did you think Mikey would be a careful driver. She would teeter on surpassing street limits, but was a relatively relaxed and smooth driver.
The car rolled through the night, the city gradually giving way to quieter roads framed by dark silhouettes of trees. A comfortable silence settled among the three of you, broken only by Hunter's occasional commentary and Mikey's bursts of laughter when he cracked a particularly absurd joke.
"Remember that time you tried to drive with only three wheels?" Hunter leaned forward from the back seat, his eyes dancing with mischief. "You swore it would work."
You chuckled despite yourself, shaking your head at the memory. "And you were the one who dared me to, you idiot."
Mikey laughed, the sound deep and genuine. "And you actually tried it? That's commitment."
"Or stupidity," Hunter added, and the three of you erupted into laughter that carried through the night, momentarily easing the tension that had wrapped itself around your chest for days.
The conversation meandered through old stories and lighthearted teasing as the car hummed smoothly down the open road. But then, in a pause between topics, Mikey glanced sideways at you, her gaze more serious. "So, do you plan on racing again anytime soon?"
The question hung in the air, a sudden shift in the atmosphere. Before you could respond, Hunter's smirk dropped. He leaned back in his seat, his voice more subdued. "Don't bother, Mads. She doesn't know."
Your eyes flicked to Mikey, watching her reaction. She didn't miss the slight hesitation in your expression, the way your hands clenched. Her brow furrowed, a mixture of concern and curiosity flashing across her face.
"Still figuring it out, huh?" she said softly. "If you haven't made up your mind yet and you're not already back on the track, it's probably a no."
You kept your gaze on the road, the rhythmic whoosh of the wind outside acting as a buffer for your thoughts. Mikey's insight stung more than you'd admit; she was right. Your lack of being back on the track had to mean something.
"Maybe," you said finally, offering no real answer. Hunter glanced between you and Mikey.
Mikey settled back in her seat, a subtle understanding flickering in her eyes as her expression softened. "Trust me," she said, her voice calm yet pointed. "Most racers, when they're trying to get something off their mind, they hit the streets and push their limits. But you? You're here, spending your nights working on a car. That says a lot about where you really want to be."
She was the first person to openly discourage you from racing, and you couldn't help but appreciate it. It felt different, almost liberating—a break from the endless pressure to prove yourself. For once, someone saw the side of you that wasn't caught up in the thrill, and it was a relief.
But there was also that suspicious part of you. Mikey was close to Anton, and she knew how much Anton wanted you in the crew. Does she fear that you'll replace her spot in the club if you join? You brush off your intrusive thoughts and try to enjoy the rest of your drive.
————
Two more days had passed since Jenna had sent the text with the updated meeting address, and the silence on the other end gnawed at her. She leaned against the balcony railing outside her room, eyes skimming the darkened city skyline in the distance each blinking light a reminder of how life pulsed and moved without pause.
The air was crisp, biting against her skin as she shivered, but it did nothing to numb the restless ache in her chest. She scrolled back through the last messages, the words on the screen staring back at her like a mockery of the certainty she'd once felt. It wasn't like you to go this long without responding, but then again what did she know about you? You were the definition of uncertainty, you couldn't figure your own shit out how could you help with hers. She should've seen the red flags for your ghosting tendencies from the first time you met. You had no reason to help her, there was no personal gain.
Aliyah's voice broke through her thoughts, calling from inside. "Jenna, you're doing it again."
Jenna blinked, tearing her gaze from the phone as Aliyah stepped out onto the balcony, eyes filled with concern.
"You're still thinking about her, aren't you?" Aliyah's tone was soft, not judgmental, but knowing.
Jenna sighed, slipping her phone into her pocket as if hiding it would erase the gnawing uncertainty. "I can't help it. Something's off. She's... pulling away, I can feel it."
Aliyah's expression shifted, guilt briefly clouding her features before she masked it with a small, encouraging smile. "Maybe she just needs time. You know how it is—this life, this... chaos we're in. It's not easy."
Jenna met her sister's eyes, searching for reassurance that felt out of reach. "Yeah, maybe." But it wasn't enough. Aliyah didn't know the extent of your relationship. How you were going to help her get dirt on Percy. How you were her best bet.
Jenna had noticed for a while now that Percy was spending a lot more time in Brimstone, and that anything she could find would be found in that shady town.
"I saw the messages with her... something about a meeting? If she won't go with you, maybe I could?" Aliyah ventured, her tone eager but tentative.
Jenna's reaction was immediate, sharp. "Absolutely not. It's too dangerous."
Aliyah crossed her arms, a defiant glint in her eyes. "Come on, Jenna. It could be good to do something together for once."
"I'm serious, Aliyah. This isn't up for discussion. It's not safe," Jenna said, her voice firm, eyes blazing with protectiveness.
Aliyah lifted her chin, stubbornness radiating from her. "Too late. I don't care," she declared, turning on her heel and striding out before Jenna could argue.
"Aliyah, wait—"
Jenna's phone pinged, jolting her from the tense silence that followed Aliyah's departure. For a split second, hope fluttered in her chest—a foolish, fragile thing—as she thought it might be you, breaking the days of silence that gnawed at her. But that hope quickly crumbled as she glanced at the screen.
It was from Percy.
Get yourself dolled up. Race tomorrow night. Be there. And you're on my arm. Look the part, don't embarrass me.
Jenna stared at the messages, her fingers itching to throw the phone across the room. He knew exactly how much he got under her skin and used it at every opportunity. And tonight was no different; he needed her there, not just as a racer, but as his accessory, some trophy to drape over his arm. Like she was at the Sinner race almost a month ago. It was a power move, one he'd pulled too many times, trying to keep her bound to him and his schemes.
Another ping. Don't even think about bailing. You know what happens when I'm not happy.
Jenna scoffed, fingers hovering over the keyboard. She could imagine Percy already preening in the mirror, smugly counting on her to show up, loyal and subservient as always. She could almost hear his oily tone, the mock concern he would flash when she hesitated, only to follow it with another thinly veiled threat. Percy loved to remind her how "lucky" she was that he'd given her a place in the Vipers—and what a shame it would be to lose it.
Jenna pushed away from the railing, the metallic chill of it seeping through her skin as she stood upright. The city lights looked dull now, swallowed by the storm brewing in her mind. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, a part of her tempted to tell Percy to shove it. But she knew better. Defying him could mean losing her only leverage, the tiny foothold she had in this game of shadows and lies.
With a sharp sigh, she typed out a reply, each keystroke feeling like a betrayal to herself.
Swallowing her disgust, she replied. Fine. I'll be there.
It was almost too easy to imagine the smirk that would be stretching across his face as he read her reply. She could feel her muscles tense, a quiet storm brewing beneath the surface, made worse by the fact that she'd lost any sign of you as a reprieve.
The phone slipped back into her pocket, but the weight of it pressed heavier than ever. The ache in her chest turned sharper, a reminder that even though she needed you, even though you were the one who was supposed to stand beside her, the silence between you spoke volumes. She just wished it wasn't so deafening.
Her eyes drifted to the hallway where Aliyah had disappeared moments before. She couldn't let her sister get pulled deeper into this mess, not when it felt like she was barely holding her own head above water. Yet, with every passing moment, the line between protecting the people she loved and keeping them at a distance grew blurrier. And Percy's summons felt like another shove towards the edge she was already teetering on.
Tomorrow night, she'd play the role. But Jenna swore, as she stared out at the city, that she would find a way out of this tangled mess.
Aliyah popped back into the room, her eyes bright but cautious as she took in Jenna's guarded stance. "Hey, so, the family's heading out to catch a movie right now. Are you coming?" Her tone was light, hopeful even, as if she already anticipated the answer but wanted to hear it anyway.
Jenna's gaze shifted to her sister, the corners of her mouth pulling into a tight line. The unspoken question lingered between them, though Aliyah's expression faltered as she awaited an answer.
"Is Dad going?" Jenna's voice came out sharper than she intended, and Aliyah's smile dimmed slightly.
"Yeah, he is," Aliyah admitted, her eyes darting down for a moment before meeting Jenna's again, trying to read her sister's mood.
Jenna's jaw tensed as she looked past Aliyah, the weight of years of resentment and disappointment pressing down like a vice. "Then no," she said flatly, the finality in her voice leaving no room for argument.
Aliyah's face fell, but she nodded, understanding etched into her features. She didn't push, didn't try to convince Jenna otherwise. The silence between them grew heavy, filled with all the things they weren't saying.
"Okay," Aliyah said softly, turning to leave. But before she stepped out, she cast one last glance over her shoulder, eyes shadowed with a mix of concern and quiet resignation. "Just... don't stay up all night, okay?"
Jenna forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah. I won't."
But as Aliyah's footsteps faded down the hall, Jenna knew she was lying. The night was already hers to wrestle with, haunted by the things she couldn't change and the person she wished she didn't need.
————
Before you knew it, Friday had arrived—the day of the meeting. The meeting you weren't planning to attend. You started your day the same way you had over the past few days—in the garage.
You had been avoiding your phone all morning, afraid of what new messages might appear. Each buzz was a test of your resolve, a reminder that giving in would undo everything you had decided. You needed to stay strong, keep your distance, and not let the past pull you back in.
The project car in front of you demanded all your attention. You poured every ounce of focus into it, the sleek curves of the Aston Martin glistening under the dim garage lights. Tonight, you were determined to take it out for a spin, using it as an excuse to push out the stress gnawing at your mind.
The garage was unusually quiet, lacking its usual bustle. The regulars, including Anton and Mikey, were conspicuously absent, skipping their usual stops at the garage. You welcomed the peace; the last thing you needed was their relentless teasing about the car's dubious origins.
The sound of footsteps broke the monotony, and you didn't need to look up to know it was Hunter.
"Got a minute?" His voice came from the doorway, casual but laced with concern.
You nodded, wiping your hands on a rag before tossing it aside and standing up. "Yeah, what's up?"
"So you're really done with Jenna?" he asks wasting no time.
You couldn't even bring yourself to say the words.
"I'm hoping the drive with Madison the other day doesn't mean yes," he frowns. "I don't think she's right for you."
"Neither do I dude. I never said I wanted anything with Mikey. We literally all went on a friendly drive, nothing more."
"Good, she kind of gives me an off vibe," he shares. "I mean, she's cool and all, but there's just something... I don't know.
Hunter leans against the workbench, studying you. "But that still leaves Jenna," he says, quieter now. "Are you sure cutting her off is what you really want?"
Your chest tightens, and you look away, focusing on the glint of metal on the project car. "I don't know," you admit. "But staying away feels like the only way to keep things from going up in flames."
Hunter's eyes narrow with concern, but then he smirks, the corner of his mouth curling up. "Just don't forget—sometimes running from the fire only makes it burn hotter when it catches up," he finishes with a wink.
You roll your eyes, but a small chuckle escapes despite the tension in your chest. "Trust you to turn everything into a dramatic line."
————
Hunter left around the 6 p.m. mark and time slipped through your fingers, and before you knew it, the clock had struck 8 p.m. The Aston Martin stood before you, polished and ready. It looked solid, steady—exactly what you needed. Without a second thought, you grabbed the keys, took a breath to steady your nerves, and slid into the driver's seat. Tonight, it would be just you, the car, and the open road.
You eased the car through the streets of Brimstone, your hands gripping the wheel, your mind drifting as you weaved through the winding roads. The town looked different at night—darker, quieter, with the occasional flicker of neon signs casting long shadows on the empty streets. You passed by abandoned buildings, alleyways where the stray figures of drug addicts huddled together, their glazed eyes staring into the nothingness that had consumed them. They barely registered your presence, too lost in their own world.
You drove without a clear destination, allowing the car to take you wherever it wanted to go. The sound of tires on asphalt was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. The rush of the road beneath you, the flicker of streetlights, the occasional blur of other cars passing by—it was all you needed. Just you and the road.
And then your mind went to her. Of course it did. How could it not when you were sitting in this car. You were fooling yourself by thinking a single car wrap can get the job done.
You remembered the day you took this car, how you spilled your guts to her in the midst of your chaos. The way she'd listened—really listened—and kissed your cheek when you dropped her off. The memory was so vivid, you could almost feel her lips on your skin again.
She should be heading to the meeting now. The one you weren't going to attend. The one she was walking into, blind. No idea what it was really about, no clue what she was getting herself into. Alone.
For all you knew, she thought Ghost Smoke was some sort of cereal. But no. You knew better than that. She wasn't stupid. She was smart, and she could handle herself. You tried to tell yourself that, tried to calm your racing thoughts. She could handle herself. She would be fine. Nothing bad would happen.
But even as you tried to convince yourself, the doubt crept back in. The image of her walking into that meeting—unprepared, vulnerable—made your stomach churn. You couldn't help but picture the worst. What if they used her? What if she got caught up in something deeper than either of you realized?
But then, as you took a sharp turn, you found yourself on the road you hadn't meant to be on. The track.
The place where it all went down.
You didn't intend to end up here. Not tonight. But there it was, the race track standing still under the muted glow of the moon, the outline of the old fence barely visible against the darkness. The stories rushed back like a wave—your father, Anton's dad, both gone in an instant after the crash that took their lives. The race had been their last, the night that changed everything.
You slowed as you approached the entrance, the cars long gone. There was no movement, no sign of life, just the emptiness that had followed the tragedy. The track had been abandoned ever since. The Sinners stopped racing there out of respect, unwilling to return to the place that had claimed so much.
You parked the car on the side of the road. For a long moment, you just sat there, the hum of the engine ticking down as the silence of the night pressed in. The weight of the past, of your father's legacy, of everything you thought you knew about this town and the racing world, settled on your shoulders.
You couldn't help but feel the ghosts of the past watching, waiting, taunting you—what are you going to do Y/n?
You shifted the car into drive, the road ahead a blur.
————
"Can you not be mad at me anymore please?"
Jenna rolls her eyes, frustration evident in her posture. "I told you not to come. I seriously can't believe you followed me here."
Aliyah huffs, crossing her arms. "You're in this mess because of me, and god forbid I want to help! It's not like your girlfriend was dying to come with you, so you should at least be grateful I'm here."
Jenna's stomach clenches at the mention of girlfriend, but she holds her tongue. She's too tired for this. She could've corrected Aliyah for the thousandth time, but it wasn't worth the fight now. Better to focus on getting this over with. At least until this little mission was done, she needed to push all thoughts of you to the back of her mind.
You're not here anyway. You're not helping her anymore.
Aliyah continues, clearly trying to lighten the tension, but there's a note of sarcasm in her voice. "Seriously, there's no way you're not happy I'm here. Look at this place!" She gestures toward the imposing, dark warehouse ahead, a shudder running through her as she takes it in. "It's straight out of a horror movie."
Jenna doesn't disagree. The place does feel like something out of a nightmare. She can feel the resentment bubbling inside her, a sharp, unwanted feeling that she tries to push away but can't. How dare you ghost her, leave her to face this alone? If you were here, Aliyah wouldn't be, and maybe she wouldn't feel so exposed, so vulnerable. But you aren't, and her little sister is. The sting of abandonment hangs in the air, heavier than the looming shadow of the warehouse ahead.
Jenna sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing in from all sides. With one final glance at the door to the meeting place, her shoulders slumped in resignation. "Fine," she muttered, voice tinged with exhaustion. "But stay close, stay quiet. Don't do anything stupid."
Aliyah gave a small, relieved nod. "You've got my word."
Jenna leads the way into the dark warehouse, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the cold, concrete floor. The place is completely abandoned, with broken windows casting faint, eerie light into the room. There's nothing in sight but dust and the lingering smell of stale air.
Aliyah looks around nervously, her eyes darting from corner to corner, but all she can see are the dim shadows creeping along the walls. The place feels like a ghost town, unsettlingly empty.
"Is this really the right place?" Aliyah's voice is low, the uncertainty clear in her tone.
Jenna pauses, squinting into the darkness, trying to make sense of the scene. She's not sure why the meeting is set up like this, or why it feels like they're walking into the unknown, but she can't let herself doubt now. "Yeah," she answers, her voice steady but with a hint of something unspoken. "This is it."
They keep walking, the air growing colder as they venture deeper into the warehouse. Aliyah keeps glancing at her sister, confusion written across her face. "What exactly is this meeting about?" she asks, her voice tinged with concern. "I mean, what's going on here? Is this about the club or—?"
Jenna cuts her off, shaking her head slightly, her gaze focused ahead. "Don't worry about it," she says, her tone sharp and final. "Just stay close."
And then, they saw him.
He was standing in the far corner of the warehouse, facing away from them, his silhouette sharp against the dim light filtering in through the broken windows. Dressed all in black, his figure was imposing in a way that sent a chill down Jenna's spine. He hadn't noticed them yet.
Instinctively, both sisters ducked behind a stack of old, dusty boxes, their breath held as they exchanged a look. The quiet tension between them thickened, and in that moment, everything felt so much more real—so much more dangerous.
On the phone, the man spoke with a low, almost mechanical tone. "Yes, boss. I'm the first one here, waiting on the other two."
Jenna made a mental note on the words. So this was a meeting between three people. Percy would be one of them.
Aliyah's voice was barely a whisper. "Do you know who that is?"
Jenna didn't answer at first. Her eyes stayed fixed on the man, analyzing his every movement, trying to make sense of the situation. Finally, she shook her head. No, she didn't know him. But something about this felt wrong—like they were in deeper than they had anticipated.
She reached out, squeezing Aliyah's hand tightly to calm her nerves. "Stay quiet," she murmured. There was no turning back now.
Jenna's heart skipped a beat when the door creaked open, and two figures stepped into the dim light. Percy walked in first, his usual calm confidence unmistakable, but it was the figure beside him that made Jenna's breath catch in her throat.
She remembered seeing him at the Raven race. The night you were racing. What the hell was he doing here? Her mind raced, the weight of the situation crashing down harder than before. Why was he with Percy? Was he the club leader? This meeting was about something far worse than she could have imagined.
Aliyah's grip on her hand tightened, her eyes wide with uncertainty and fear. But Jenna couldn't look away. She barely registered the tension in her sister's hand, too focused on the strange alliance before her.
Without a word, Percy and the Raven exchanged brief glances before walking further into the warehouse with the mysterious person in all black. The air around them seemed to thicken, the sound of their voices indistinguishable.
Jenna's pulse quickened as her instincts screamed that she needed to get closer, to hear more.
She crouched low, glancing over at Aliyah with an intense, silent plea. "Stay here," she whispered sharply, her voice low but firm, knowing the weight of the situation.
Aliyah nodded, her face pale with fear.
Jenna barely gave her sister another glance before she began moving, silent as a shadow, staying low to the ground as she crept closer to the three men.
But the floor of the warehouse wasn't as kind as she hoped. Her foot caught on a jagged edge, and in an instant, her body lurched forward, her heart skipping a beat.
Time slowed, the rush of panic surged through her, and in that split second, her heart seized with terror. She was going to fall—she was going to make a noise and blow their cover. Aliyah was going to be in danger.
She braced for the inevitable crash, for the sound of her body hitting the ground and the betrayal of her hiding place.
But just as the world tilted beneath her, strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back from the brink. Her heart raced, her breath catching in her throat. She blinked, disoriented, but when she looked up, her world seemed to freeze.
There you were, standing in front of her, holding her steady. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. You were here. You had come for her.
In the six days you had ghosted her, Jenna had planned what she was going to do if she ever saw you again. First was a slap, possibly the silent treatment—a taste of your own medicine. She even toyed with the idea of keying one of your cars. But falling into your embrace, wrapping her arms around your neck and letting out a sigh of relief was certainly not part of the plan.
For a moment, neither of you moved. You could feel her breath against your chest, soft and steady, and despite everything, her warmth was exactly what you needed.
Jenna pulled back slightly, her hands lingering on your arms as she looked up at you, her eyes searching for something—answers, maybe, or just reassurance. She was still upset with your disappearing act. "You really are something," she muttered, her voice softer than usual, almost vulnerable.
You couldn't find the right words, not when your heart was racing from the sudden rush of emotions. Instead, you simply nodded, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a quiet acknowledgment of everything unspoken between you. "We'll talk afterwards," you whispered.
She nodded, knowing you both have a bigger issue to deal with at the present moment. You notice Jenna worriedly glance behind you and you follow her gaze to see another girl you've never seen before.
Jenna noticed the fear that was once on her sister's face melted into a mischievous grin as she looked at her, raising an eyebrow and pointing a finger at you while mouthing, Greaser?
You'll have to figure out who that is later, but for now you take your attention away from the girl who is very close to you, and look up at the scene in front of you. Pissy, the Raven crew leader, and an unfamiliar man.
“Who thought holding the meeting here was a good idea?” Percy muttered, annoyance dripping from his tone as he glanced at the dust clinging to his shoes.
“We can’t afford any slip-ups,” the unknown man replied curtly. “Let’s keep this brief.”
The Raven crew leader smirked, eyes glinting in the dim warehouse light. “We’ve already pushed about fifty keys of Ghost Smoke into Brimstone over the past two weeks,” he said, voice smooth but full of intent. “No hiccups, no heat—just a steady stream. And trust me, the streets are starting to bite. By the time the next batch hits, they’ll be begging for more.”
"Okay, and you Percy? How's the Vipers' distribution going?"
You clenched your jaw as the conversation confirmed your worst suspicions. These guys were flooding Brimstone with product, exploiting the town's vulnerable, turning the Brimstoners into their playthings. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Jenna stealthily recording the exchange between the three men, every tense word.
Percy shifted uneasily, a flash of frustration in his eyes. "We've moved about eight keys so far," he said tightly, the disappointment in his voice evident. The number wasn't enough compared to the Raven's progress. "It’s not easy for a Viper to operate on Sinner territory without drawing attention."
"Maybe if you'd stop cozying up to your girl at races and focus on your job, things would be different," the unknown man snapped, his tone biting.
His girl?
"Relax," Percy retorted, his voice strained but defiant. "No one wants Brimstone to become a zombieland more than I do. Some of those Sinners have been getting way too fucking cocky."
Jacob, the Raven leader, let out a low chuckle and placed a hand on Percy's shoulder. "Easy there," he said, smirking at the unknown man. "I can’t blame the guy. It’s hard to stay focused when your girl’s a knockout like that." He finishes with a whistle.
A whispered "ew" sounded behind you, and you felt Jenna tense, a silent fury radiating from her. Anger roared in your chest. Not only were these men scheming to drown Brimstone in Ghost Smoke, but now they were talking about Jenna like she was just another trophy. The rage that simmered inside you sharpened into a razor's edge.
But now was not the time to get angry. You had to remain calm, get all the info you can and get the fuck out of there.
Jacob, the Raven leader, crossed his arms, his gaze sharp as he looked between Percy and the unknown man. “And what if this operation doesn’t go as planned? What happens if someone decides to interfere? I know you tried this once and failed.”
The tension in the room crackled like static. The unknown man’s expression darkened, a slow, menacing smile creeping across his face. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, voice low and chilling. “We wouldn’t want a repeat of Bullet and Apex.”
You freeze.
But before you could fully process the implication, a sudden noise shattered the silence about 15 meters to your left.
“Hey! Who’s there?” one of the men barked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Heart thundering, you whipped your head in the direction of the sound and spotted the familiar mop of curls.
Hunter.
He was crouched low, eyes wide with a reckless determination that sent a jolt of both dread and relief through you. Before you could even react, Jenna’s urgent voice sliced through the fog of panic clouding your mind.
“We have to go,” she hissed, fingers locking around your arm like a lifeline and yanking you into motion. The edge in her voice snapped you back to the present, and your body jolted into action. The girl—clearly someone Jenna trusted—was already sprinting ahead, weaving between crates like shadows. You cast a quick look back, your gaze catching Hunter’s for a split second as he, too, bolted to follow.
This was a fight against time, and survival was the only thing that mattered.
Jenna’s grip on your hand anchored you as you both tore out of the warehouse, feet pounding the ground as adrenaline roared through your veins. The cold air bit at your skin as you charged towards the first car in sight—yours.
“Stop right there!” A shout from behind sent a surge of terror down your spine.
“Hey!” you yelled to the girl ahead. She glanced back, eyes sharp, just in time to catch the keys you tossed her. She was closer to the car, and with no time to spare, she slipped into the driver’s seat.
The three of you scrambled in—a blur of limbs and frenzied breaths. Jenna flung herself into the passenger seat, while you and Hunter dove into the back, your heart hammering in your chest like it might explode.
“Go, go, go! Step on it, Aliyah,” Jenna commanded.
Aliyah didn’t hesitate. The engine roared to life, and the Aston Martin peeled away from the warehouse, tires screeching against the asphalt. The last thing you saw in the rearview was the shadowy figure of the man pursuing you, growing smaller as you sped into the dark night, leaving danger and revelations in your wake.
No one dared to speak. The air in the car was thick with tension, the adrenaline still simmering just beneath the surface. Once Aliyah had put enough distance between them and the warehouse, she eased off the gas, slowing to a steady, legal pace. They were in Summer Valley now, the bright lights of the town casting fleeting shadows across their faces.
Ten minutes ticked by in silence before the red glow of a traffic light gave them a momentary pause. It was then that everything unraveled at once.
“Hunter, what the hell are you doing here?” you demanded, voice tight.
“How the fuck did you go from boosting cars to this?” Hunter fired back, eyes wide with disbelief.
Aliyah leaned back, throwing a teasing look Jenna’s way. “You didn’t tell me Greaser was cute!”
"Since when did you know how to drive?” Jenna shot back at Aliyah.
The car was filled with a low hum of murmured conversations, each person settling into their own thoughts as the road stretched on.
“Did you follow me here?” you asked Hunter, still in disbelief.
“Yeah, I did. And I’m glad I did.” His voice was filled with concern. “What the hell are you mixed up in, Y/n?”
“I don’t know, man. I’m just finding out about all this today, too.”
Hunter let out a frustrated sigh. “We need to tell Anton. They’re trying to destroy Brimstone.”
You exhaled, mirroring his sigh. “Yeah, this is bad. Real bad.”
As soon as Anton’s name left his lips, your mind raced back to the meeting. What the men had said.
Hunter could see it in your eyes—he knew exactly what you were thinking, and the tension in the air between you both grew thicker.
Up front, Jenna’s voice broke the silence. “Okay, yes, I get it! She’s cute. Can you just… shush? She’s right there,” she muttered in exasperation, turning back to her sister, who was practically grinning.
Jenna slouched back in her seat, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. This was not what she expected when she set out to gather dirt on Percy. She couldn’t wrap her head around it—Percy, the same person she thought she knew, was tangled up in a plot to destroy Brimstone. Yeah, he was a jerk, but this... this was murder, drawn out and deliberate.
The crew she had once considered family was directly linked to the distribution of Ghost Smoke, targeting people from the town over. She knew there was always a rivalry between Brimstone and Summer Valley, but she didn't think it would resort to elimination techniques. The shock of it all left her breathless, the pieces clicking together with an unsettling finality.
She got her dirt. But this feels far from over.
Despite everything, Jenna couldn’t ignore the pull to check on you. She knew you had to be feeling the weight of it all—learning that your town was the target of such destruction. But there was also the anger. The unresolved frustration from you walking away earlier. She couldn’t just let you back in without confronting it, could she?
But as the drive wore on, the pull to turn back softened, and she glanced at you instead. You were lost in your own world, staring out the window, looking like you’d retreated into yourself. Nothing could touch you right now. And she didn’t blame you. Tonight had been a mess.
She turned her gaze to Hunter, raising an eyebrow, silently asking if he knew how to handle this. He met her eyes, shaking his head in that subtle way that said, Not tonight.
Jenna nodded in acknowledgment, her expression a mix of concern and frustration. She gave a quiet command to Aliyah, who turned the car toward their place. The drive was silent, the weight of everything hanging thick in the air. When the car finally stopped, both girls exited, but Jenna couldn’t help but glance back at you one last time. Her gaze softened, seeing how much this was affecting you. You didn’t look at her once as you stayed seated in the back, your face unreadable.
Somehow, without even realizing it, you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of Hunter’s car. The shift had happened so subtly that you hadn’t even registered the transition. You assumed once the girls had left, Hunter must've taken over the drive. But the ride felt endless, every minute dragging in uncomfortable silence, like you were trying to outrun the truth without really knowing how.
When Hunter finally pulled into his driveway, the car came to a stop, and the air between you two felt suffocating. No words were spoken for a long moment.
Finally, Hunter broke the stillness. His voice was low, sincere, and filled with an understanding that made your stomach churn. “I’m sorry, Y/n,” he said, his tone full of empathy. “That must’ve been a hell of a lot to take in.”
It wasn’t easy, not by a long shot. You could feel the weight of the words pressing down on you like a heavy stone.
Bullet and Apex. Your dad and Anton’s dad, their racing names. You had tried to convince yourself that you had misheard at the meeting, that it was some twisted misunderstanding. But as you turned to look at Hunter, his pitiful eyes told you everything you needed to know. You weren’t wrong.
Your father and uncle’s deaths wasn't an accident. They’d been taken from you on purpose. And now, the truth of that hit you harder than anything else.
#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x female reader#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x y/n#tara carpenter imagine#tara carpenter x female reader#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x y/n#beetlejuice#jenna x you#jenna x reader#jenna marie ortega
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Will-o'-the-wisp
Title: Will-o'-the-wisp
Fandom: Hunter x Hunter
Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader (female)
Summary: Reader encouters fae!Chrollo and breaks some rules along the way.
Word count: 1700+
Notes: yandere!Chrollo, fae!Chrollo, abduction, manipulation, AU, modern setting with fae, Chrollo is charming af and a bit creepy as usual, Reader is doomed long before they know it and slightly depressed
You walk home the same way every day, like many people do. There's comfort in routines. Comfort and security which you crave. The familiar routes, the repetitive programs on TV and the books you've read a million times. You like to know what happens next and hate surprises.
The fourteen-year-old you wouldn't approve.
Maybe even express a little pity, because she always thought you two were destined for an adventure, like in fantasy books you used to devour one after another. Every free second was spent reading or dreaming, but life went on and adventures didn't happen. The girl grew older, a lot more careful and a lot less hopeful.
When you finish work, it's usually around six. Your adult self is practical and prefers to save money on the bus, besides, every other time you take it, you end up having to stand, squeezed between people. It's not worth the frustration; a fifteen minute walk isn't that long and the crime rate in the area is low.
There's a small grove nearby that nobody has bothered to turn into a park. The residents made their own paths in time, put a few signs so the joggers wouldn't get lost, but that's it. Once or twice a month you stroll through there, picking up trash left on the side. People make you want to move to the woods altogether sometimes.
That's how the day starts or ends — with crossing a bridge which connects the grove to your neighbourhood.
And this is where you see him for the first time.
The man looks so out of place among the rustic wooden railings and rushing water below. Nobody wears this kind of clothes here. Expensive and elegant, something that blends well in a big city. They don't stare at passersby like he does either. You hate when people do that ─ block already narrow spaces by just stopping midway. Or groups who spread across the entire sidewalk.
"Excuse me," you say politely. Polite is good. Polite can be used as a shield and always makes you look better than you are. "I need to pass."
He smiles, then moves aside. "Of course."
His face is exactly what you imagine when thinking of pleasant: beautiful grey eyes with long lashes, pointed chin and a strange mix of delicate and sharp edges.
"Thank you."
The smile widens. "You're welcome."
---
It's time to accept that you've grown into an average person with a simple desire to live in comfort. Dreaming isn't your strength anymore, the last book you picked up was several years ago. Movies bore you fifteen minutes in, even if everybody else praises them; the idea of a relationship seems exhausting.
You do enjoy gardening.
Growing tomatoes is a far cry from distant fictional lands, but they taste nice with a pinch of salt.
The condo you live in doesn't have enough space and light, so you chose a small patch of ground in the grove to start a garden. A few tomato plants and some herbs like chives and basil. It might be illegal, yet nobody has come to yell at you. Most people don't pay attention to what's happening here, as long as you don't damage the trees or leave trash.
You water and prune, weed, add fertilizer if needed. There're some flowers too; mother told you that marigolds scare pests away from veggies and keep the soil healthy. They're pretty, little orange spots.
---
You find a crystal at you patch. Azure would be too bland to describe its color ─ maybe more like a mix of cerulean and moon stone. It's round in shape, polished so nicely that the outlines of your face are reflected in the surface. Did a magpie bring it? Or a kid? The thought of someone poking around your garden makes you frown. You hope they didn't step on your basil.
The stone is heavy and cool. You turn it around, entranced, before stuffing it into the pocket of your jeans. Maybe you can ask the neighbours' kids about it later.
"Would you look at that," you mutter and bend to inspect a tomato plant. Two green fruit, each no bigger than your knuckle, hang there, sprouted over the weekend. "Hello, my pretties."
---
You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. It's past 1 AM, you should sleep; instead, you keep twisting the stone in the moonlight.
You asked kids from around here, but nobody claimed it.
Maybe it's a lucky charm, you've had a wonderful day. Got a call from your cousin in the morning, she has't contacted you in a long while and it was nice to catch up. After lunch, the resource manager praised your work, then an elderly lady from the store complimented your cardigan.
At a certain angle, the stone seems almost glowing. A summer night sky condensed into a tiny orb. Your fingers trace its smooth surface without much thought until eventually it drops onto the pillow by your side.
You don't notice when exactly you fall asleep.
It's the strangest dream you've ever seen.
Gone is the condo building with its stuffy kitchenette and old pipes that constantly rumble. Instead, you feel damp grass underneath your feet. Wind brushes through the hem of your nightdress, carrying the scents of rain and moss. So many shades of black and raven blue swirl together that you barely recognize a signpost nearby. It's the grove, but you've never seen it like this, as dark as it can be only at night.
It's uncomfortable to stand barefoot, with a chill creeping up your legs.
After a while your fingers touch the rough bark of a nearby tree to get a sense of direction, and you start walking, because there isn't anything else to do.
There's the bridge, you think. If you just get to the bridge, the rest will be simple.
You're walking there, or that's what you think when a small ball of light appears right before your nose.
Fireflies don't glow blue. It doesn't falter, doesn't flicker, coming up closer then farther like a pendulum. There's something uncanny and fragile about it. For a second you forget everything and stand mesmerized, until it starts moving.
Through the trees, past the branches, onwards.
It's more instinctual than anything ─ you don't want to be left here alone again, so you follow. Light is good, darkness isn't. The ground becomes more uneven as you go, the grass changes to moss, but you can barely register anything at this point apart from that lonely glow. It halts at times as if making sure you're keeping up.
Is that a clearing ahead? Your eyes hurt from trying to focus.
The blue dot continues to float, never speeding up, never falling behind.
Then it disappears.
No. Not disappears ─ settles on the tip of a pale finger.
There's your tomato patch, your plants, the empty box that you forgot to take back to the condo.
But it's impossible.
Your garden should be not very far from the border, yet it feels like you've walked through half of the grove by now.
Why is he here?
"It took you a while," he says, the stranger from the bridge whose eyes made you pause before you caught yourself. "I was waiting, my dear."
Maybe you shouldn't ask. Maybe the wisest thing would be to turn around and run. You step back and trip on a root which somehow snuck between the moss. He catches your hand before you fall and doesn't let go. Instead his thumb caresses your skin in leisurely strokes.
There's a faint scent of lilies coming from him, and something else. Something heavy, equally sweet that lingers on the edge of cloying and enticing.
Smells aren't supposed to be so strong in dreams.
"I need to go."
"Where?"
This simple question asked in an equally plain tone makes you falter. What does he mean 'where'?
"Home," you say softly and try to free your hand again without success. The man leans in close enough that you can see his face, illuminated by that blue light.
"And where is home?"
"I-" you swallow. "I have to go."
He releases you with surprising ease; you don't waste any time rushing towards the path. The long walk has exhausted you, and the lack of light makes it difficult to tell which turns to take. You stumble multiple times. The hem of your nightdress catches a few twigs. You sprint past the trees, past the low bushes along the familiar trail, and it's there, suddenly in front of you: the wooden bridge.
Out of breath, you grab the railing. And then open your eyes on the same side where you started.
How?
Again and again, you dash across it, yet every time there's a single step left to cross over the stream, the view shifts. Your feet land at the beginning of the bridge. On the ninth time when it's impossible to run any longer, you press your forehead to the railing. Every breath feels short and raspy.
"That's enough, dear."
"What is this?" You grip the planks with trembling hands. "I don't understand. Why can't I-"
A coat falls over your shoulders; you clutch at it mindlessly, because it's warm and you're shaking all over.
"You thanked me. Claimed my land, charmingly audacious of you. Such care and love, right under my nose."
There's no malice in his voice. Gently, finger by finger, he uncurls the tight grip of your hand. The stone is there, cerulean blue like summer sky condensed into a tiny orb.
"Took my gift and kept it close to your heart."
It takes some effort but eventually you manage to speak. "I didn't," you whisper urgently, despite the shiny proof in your palm. "I didn't know! Take it back."
"I'm afraid it's too late for that."
"I didn't know!"
He lifts you in his arms when your knees give out and you sink to the ground, still gripping that damned stone. His coat carries the same distinct scent of lilies and heavy sweetness. The sceneries you dreamed of when younger pop in your head, like old postcards covered with dust, of mystical beings hidden from human eye, fantastical places no one has seen, grand adventures where heroes defy impossible odds and come out victorious.
Those were tales for the brave and imaginative. You're neither.
"It doesn't matter. The land claims you," he says. "And so do I."
#shalott fanfiction#yandere#hunter x hunter#hunter x hunter fanfic#yandere chrollo#yandere chrollo lucilfer#yandere chrollo x reader
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I feel like a lot of people in various reblog chains of this post have kinda lost the plot, so I'm reblogging this version to bring the emphasis back on the AI "detectors".
Whether something like Grammarly is considered AI or not is a little irrelevant, but most people consider using a spelling/grammar checker to not "count" as AI (despite the fact that you may be able to write out a bunch of nonsense and have Grammarly correct it over and over until it passes as a sentence)
And what a teacher will generally use an AI detector for is to check if the student wrote the paper or prompted an AI to give them a paper. As far as I know, Grammarly can't finish your entire document for you based on prompts (but I haven't used it so feel free to correct me) so I feel like a lot of the notes trying to argue whether it counts as AI or whether auto correct is useless now are just getting away from the point this point was supposed to be making:
You can't trust an AI detection software to accurately predict whether something was AI generated.
And part of the reason for that is that AI-detection software could ALSO be considered a form of AI. It is limited both by the dataset being fed to it to determine whether something is or isn't AI, and by any biases of the human who programmed it. If the programmer writes a program that says "look for anything that isn't perfect English and flag it as AI", they are showing that they don't trust anything written in broken English. I'm not sure why it might flag a word like "devoid", but if the AI detector is looking for patterns amongst known AI samples and the word "devoid" comes up a lot, it might just assume that any text using the word "devoid" has a higher chance of being AI generated.
Let's go back to the Both Of These Are Bad part.
It shouldn't need explaining why AI detectors falsely flagging ESL writers' works as AI is just bad and just contributing to systemic racism, so let's talk about the ways in which it can be harmful to native English speakers.
As stated above, it's interesting that an AI detector might flag words that seem "complex", while much of mainstream writing is trending towards simplification, for better or for worse. It could mean that since a lot of non-AI writing is so simplistic, anything that deviates from that is considered abnormal. Or it could, again, just be a programmed bias of the author of the program. I think this is more the point that thebibliosphere might have been trying to make, not that Grammarly specifically is evil AI that's making everyone write bad, but that a larger cultural shift to more simplistic language is happening and when things like Grammarly tell you to simplify your phrases or an AI detector tells you that your essay was AI generated because you used a big word, it's encouraging this simplification at a much faster rate than if human editors and teachers were directing their writers/students to do so.
Grammar software is perfectly optional for professionals, of course, but if a student is going to fail a class because their essay can't pass an AI detector, well, they can't really opt out of that. They have to change their wording to something that might not be as vibrant as what they originally wrote, or risk failing and potentially worse action depending on a school's plagiarism policies. It's essentially going to train kids to write in specific ways to get around it, and they might not understand why their paper was flagged or what AI even is yet, they're just going to assume that their writing was wrong and needs to be fixed. And let's not assume that only the kids writing their own essays are doing this, either. If kids can write a whole paper using AI and then change a couple of words so that it passes the detector, they're going to do that too!
Again, the point here is that the AI detectors are not infallible, often make racist assumptions, and cannot be the only method used to check whether something was AI generated.
I don't really have a good conclusion because I don't have the answer to this problem, because it goes beyond students in a classroom and you won't always get a document history to check. I just felt like this post was losing it's direction and I needed to clarify it for my own sanity.
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You sure? - JJ Maybank × fem!plus sized!inexperienced!reader
summary: you take your first hookup JJ back to your place and things start to get hot and heavy very fast
word count: 1.2k
warnings: smut adjacent, making out, suggestive talk, mention of reader being a virgin, mean!cocky!JJ (but only while horny), light petting, slapping, dry humping, biting
author's note: I don't think I'm ready yet to write full smut again, so I hope you forgive me for this somewhat fade to black kinda thing
You're leaning against the wall behind you, hand holding onto the door frame that is pressing into your back. There's this dizziness inside you that you've never felt before. Warm and heavy and exciting and-
“You comin’?” JJ asked while pulling his shirt off and mindlessly throwing the fabric somewhere on the floor. The yellow overhead light casts a glow onto his toned, sun kissed skin as you watch his back muscles before he turns, and your breath hitches. There's something primal in how you force your throat to still and press your legs together. The thought of simply laying him down and licking him all overcomes to your mind before you remember what you actually had planned, and why you had picked specifically him for it.
“JJ, I've never done this before,” you croak, wishing you didn't feel so small under his unwavering gaze as he stalks toward you.
“Hookups ain't for everybody, s'all good, I don't judge, princess,” he winks, twirling some of your hair in between his fingers while leaning over you. You wanna let loose a bit, let yourself fall into how easy he makes it all feel, yet there's the guilt tugging at your conscience.
“No,” you shake your head, speaking softly. “I've never done this. Kissing, touching, feeling-”
“Fucking?” he interrupts with a cocky smile on his lips, maybe too cocky, but he's standing too close for you to actually care. Your eyes focus on his, blue and growing darker with the passing second. It's like your throat is clogged up by the fear that he would actually leave or worse make fun of you for it, for revealing the truth. A gulp followed by a nod and a small, whined “yes” is all you can get out at first.
Closing your eyes, you try to focus solely on your words, and not the fact that his calloused fingers are softly cradling your jaw, rubbing a thumb over the apple of your cheek before pulling your bottom lip down as you try to speak. “It- It would to-totally okay if you- you wanted to leave. I shouldn't have-”
JJ’s lips are warm and wet and a little chipped, but you don't mind it. You like that he knows exactly what he wants, and that his hand slips down to hold your throat, tilting your head back while swallowing your breath and whimpers. He's even closer like that, his free hand squeezes your hip while his body is fully leaning against your own. And you don't know where to put your hands, so you keep them by your side at first, until he forces one up to have you hold onto his neck. It feels like learning to drive; you're scared to do something wrong, but he's not letting you fail. Chasing your lips and grinding his hips against your body like it's the most normal thing to do.
You get dizzy again, the different kind of dizzy, the kind that makes you push against him enough so he stops and lets you both get some air to fill up your lungs. At least you thought so before his lips attach to your neck, kissing and licking, but when you let out a choked moan because he found your sweet spot, his hand lands hard on your cheek.
“Don't fucking dare holdin’ back,” he glares, and you nod diligently. It's not something you would've expected from charming, funny, flirty JJ Maybank, but you can't say it doesn't turn you on.
His lips lock down on yours again, and you sigh into it. Digging your hands in his hair, running your nails over his scalp until he bites your lip. Your mouth falls open at the piercing feel his teeth left on your plump lips, giving him enough room to dart his tongue into your mouth. Tentatively assessing the situation, he lets his tongue run over your teeth for a moment before smiling and somehow leaning into you even deeper. It's like he's actually trying to devour you, tasting every last millimeter of your mouth and doing it over and over again until you pull on his hair, and the only thing connecting your lips is a short string of spit.
“Done already?” JJ teases, tilting his head to the side.
“Does it always feel like this?” you ask, and it doesn't even make sense that those words come out of you when you actually just wanted to tell him to fuck you already.
“Nah, that's just me, baby,” JJ growls, pulling you away from the wall and kissing you again. It's like he's addicted to your taste, not getting enough even when it still lingers on his lips and tongue.
He's slowly stumbling backwards until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he lets himself fall, pulling you with him. But his kisses and the way his hands roam your body never falter. Squeezing your hips, then your ass and boobs, before moving his hand between your thighs and under your dress.
Your breath hitches and he sucks on your bottom lip, letting his digits run through your slick folds another time while chuckling.
“No panties? You naughty girl,” JJ tsks, taking his hand up and licking it clean. “You wanna get up and strip for me, beautiful.” You’re still debating whether it was a question or an order when his hand closes around your throat. “I don't like repeatin’ myself, princess.”
The first thing you take off when you stand, is your heels, and all of a sudden you're another three inches shorter than him, which seems to amuse him.
“I should definitely put some inches in you,” he jokes, at least you hope so as you watch him lean on his elbows.
“Does that work on other people?” you ask, moving your hands behind your back, but failing to find the zipper.
JJ sits up, his hands coming to your hips before spinning you around and forcing you back until you can feel his face pressed right above your ass. “It's workin’ on you too,” he says before carefully pulling the zipper down while lifting his head. “Now turn around and take it off, slowly.”
You follow his instructions, turning your face to look at him before slowly letting your body follow. “It's okay if you wanna leave again-” You can't bring out another word because he's already bitten down hard on your belly fat.
“Don't fucking say shit like that again. You're fucking gorgeous, and I'm gonna be fuckin’ you stupid, all right? That's a Maybank promise,” JJ gives you a single wink before slapping your ass and making you jump a tiny bit at the pleasant sting.
He pushes himself to stand, taking your face in his hand and digging into your full cheeks a little, forcing you to open your mouth. “I should teach you how to give a proper blowjob. But first, we gotta make sure you're so sore you can't walk no more, once I'm done with you.”
And with that he forces another kiss on your lips before throwing you onto the bed as if you weigh nothing at all, all the while your friend's words cross your mind, and you want to laugh in her face. A hookup is the completely right decision for losing your virginity, especially when it's JJ Maybank.
please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho
taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi
#jj maybank#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank smut#my writing#~fanfiction
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I Don't Need You (Don't You Leave Me)(18+)
Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie were always at each other's throats. Everything between you two felt like a competition. But when you are severely injured on patrol one day because of Ellie's carelessness, things between you change.
WARNINGS: Canon typical violence, descriptions of blood/bones breaking, awkward!Ellie, reader described as taller and stronger than Ellie, switch!Ellie (more sub though), dom!reader, fingering, face-sitting (Ellie receiving), spanking, Ellie calls reader "princess"
WORD COUNT: 9.3K
A/N: I always loved this one... I thought it was really cute and Ellie feels very in character for this one.
You hated morning patrols… Well, not so much morning, but the horrendous feeling of being awake before the sun is up. When you agreed to run through Hoback Pass, you were under the stipulation that you’d be riding with Jesse… You know, someone you got along with? Someone who wasn’t so cocky that they may as well have a membership card to the medical tent.
Someone so frustrating that it made your skin crawl just thinking about her… But Jesse had traded shifts with her, and now you had no choice but to put up with the reason you knew how to say fuck you in 3 different languages.
Your hands were tight on the reins of your stallion as you were almost falling asleep in the saddle. It was too warm that morning, and you wanted to go crawl back in bed and forget that this day was even taking place. And yet, fate had other things to say about it, that tricky bitch.
“Would you move your ass already?”
Her voice rang in your ears, forcing you to look up. The way the sun reflected down onto her auburn hair and how it accentuated her muscly biceps in the glow of orange. You may have blushed had you not felt so tired and instead of admiring her hot arms, you were scowling and rolling your eyes so hard that you’re amazed they didn’t get stuck in the back of your head.
“Trust me, Ellie,” You spoke, kicking your horse into a soft trot before yanking on the reins and stopping right next to her and her mare. “I’ll be the happiest I’ve ever been once this shit is all over.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
You clicked your tongue against the back of your teeth and groaned. “It means you are driving me fucking crazy.”
“Yeah?” Ellie yanked Shimmer in front of you and your stallion who halted and gave a challenging huff, much like you did. “Then keep up. Sooner we check in, the sooner we’re done.”
Shimmer trotted in front with her rider in tow and you huffed. “Bitch.”
It was always like this with you two. Sometimes when patrol groups were in threes, you and Ellie almost always got put on those, with Joel or Tommy playing mediator so you two wouldn’t just get into an all-out fist fight in the middle of the trail. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes you left with a bruise on your face and her with a split lip.
What was it about Ellie Williams that just… got under your skin? What was it that made you so infuriated whenever she spoke to you? Was it because she had always been rude to you? Maybe it was her inability to accept her mortality with how fucking reckless she always was. Was it her I’m better than you attitude?
Maybe it was something else entirely… Maybe you two were at each other’s throats because the sexual tension between you two was so annoying that Dina and Jesse had a bet going on who was going to kiss who first.
Everybody saw it. Everybody but you two. Ellie thought you were beautiful, assertive, and highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat. But she also said you were a hard-ass, bossy, and over-analyzed every little detail to the point that she would need a fucking magnifying glass to see all the fine print in your plans.
And Ellie? Ellie was a hardcore badass who thought with her fists before using her head, which was strange due to how absolutely brilliant she was. You heard her talks with her friends; she knew so much about science and space and literature… Why was she always so dumb when it came to her safety?
You were thinking very rude and nasty things as you two continued your trek down the trail, stopping every once in a while, to look for supplies inside of old buildings and watching Ellie do some fucking acrobatic shit just to get another one of her useless superhero cards on the third floor of a destroyed building. You were on the ground, checking your rifle for probably the thousandth time that day when the sounds of obvious distress made you look up.
“Shit, MOVE! ” Ellie shouted and watched as you had to roll out of the way to not get hit in the head with a rusted ladder that clattered to the ground aggressively. Your heart pounded in your ears as you looked up at Ellie who was now trapped on the third floor of the used-to-be, building with no way down.
The emotions that went across your face were like whiplash. At first, you looked angry at her complete carelessness, and then you realized she was genuinely stuck up there and you couldn’t stop laughing. In seconds, you were doubling over, your snorts of amusement echoing in the wind as Ellie pouted. She certainly looked cute with her bottom lip sticking out like that.
“How’s the weather up there?” You paced back and forth in front of the building as Ellie huffed, laying down on her stomach and leaning over the edge a little to see just how far down it was. The only thing keeping her up was that floor and a load bearing brick pillar.
“Stop being a dick and help me! ”
You grinned. “Hmm… and why should I do that?”
“You know I’ve got a clean shot, right?” Ellie removed her pistol from the back of her jeans and held it up like it was a threat. “Bet I could hide your body pretty fucking easily.”
You chuckled and rolled your eyes before picking the ladder back up, only for it to fall apart in your hands, the rusted pieces scraping against each other and falling into a heap on the ground. The amusement began to leave your face and you realized that this actually was a bad situation that she was in.
“Great, figures,” Ellie rolled onto her back and stared up at the sky. “Everything you touch turns to shit.”
“Oh, the optimism is fuckin’ killing me, El,” You shot back with an equal amount of sass. You didn’t see her blushing from where she was, which she was grateful for in the moment. “Just calm down. I’ll figure something out.”
All you got from her was a thumbs up over the side of the ledge and you sighed with irritation. Why did she have to be so… so fucking infuriating? She was 18 and still acted like a damn child sometimes. You were in your bitter thoughts as you looked around for anything that could be helpful. Another ladder? A rope? Anything that can save her sorry ass from getting stuck up there and starving to death.
“God, it’s fuckin’ hot,” The sun was up now, which meant that Wyoming was being cooked from the rays, and that meant with no shade, you were being blasted from every single angle. You stripped off your lightweight jacket and tied it around your waist. Sweat dripped from your forehead and stained your t-shirt as you dug around under the remains of some of the buildings.
You were focused on saving your partner, but in doing so, you had taken your eyes off her. And while she wasn’t exactly far away, you missed the way she was staring at you in that moment. In Ellie’s mind, all she wanted to do was trace your collarbone with her tongue and feel your hands against her ass… She truly was too gay for her own good.
Ellie scooted closer to the ledge when she saw you disappear behind a broken-down truck, and then she heard a cracking sound. The platform trembled and Ellie began backing away from the ledge as fast as she possibly could with her face going pale and her heart rate shooting sky high.
“Ellie?!” You called out, immediately abandoning what you were looking for and running over to the building. The cement between the bricks on the pillar was beginning to crack, and once that was gone, the building would be coming down in literal seconds. Your partner began panicking, looking down at you as you began to pace like a wild animal ready to attack their prey.
“Do something!” Ellie screamed as the platform shook so hard that she was knocked flat on her ass.
You laughed in the most cynical fashion. “Wh-What the hell do you want me to do?! I can’t stop it from falling down!”
“If I die because of this, I will haunt your ass forever !”
Time was running out and the building was coming down any second. You were out of options and only had one choice. “Jump!”
Ellie looked at you with her eyes wide and her fists clenched. “Are you fucking crazy—”
“ Shut the fuck up, and JUMP!”
The bricks in the middle of the pillar began snapping into pieces and Ellie realized she had no other way out of this situation. She looked down at you as you held your arms out for her. With a final, FUCK IT! Ellie jumped off the platform and into your arms.
You pushed both feet into the ground and bent your knees slightly. Ellie didn’t weigh much, and you were certain you could carry her, so why not this? And that’s exactly what happened. At first, Ellie thought you might let her hit the ground, but you had rushed forward just to make sure she didn’t hit the ground! And yes, she was light, but the momentum of her falling and you not moving had your entire body smacking against the back of the broken-down car.
The window to the passenger side door shattered with the impact of your body and you saw stars for a second with how much it hurt to hit something so hard. But you quickly remembered that you both needed to move. Without so much as a second thought, you ran out of the way of the collapsing building with Ellie still in your arms.
Of course, the fucking building had to fall at an angle. And in the direction that you were running. Your blood was rushing to your ears with adrenaline as you managed to slip on the fucking mud and ended up dropping Ellie into the dirt a few feet away from you.
“Shit, look out!” Ellie grabbed your hand and attempted to pull you away, but she wasn’t fast enough. The building came crashing down. The bulk of it missed you, but one of the wooden planks that was holding the floor together snapped off the remains and went flying in your direction. The plank came in direct contact with your leg and the sickening snapping sound definitely wasn’t from the wood.
You shrieked in agony, immediately crawling away from the rubble as it finally ceased its collapse and you fell to the dirt, whimpering in pain and tears streaking down your face. There was no doubt in your mind that your leg was broken, and you just knew that you were gonna catch so much shit for this. Your whole body felt like it was on fire and all you could think of was how much Ellie was going to hound your ass for not moving fast enough to get out of the way.
You looked up and coughed on the dust that the rubble kicked into the air, stomach twisting at the agony as you crawled away and slammed your fist into the dirt. “Fuck! God fucking damn it…”
“Hey, hey, look at me,” Ellie crouched down and placed both hands on your shoulders, getting your attention. You looked up with tears in your eyes and she brushed the hair out of your face and looked like she wanted to throw up. “Stay here… Stay right here, I’ll get the horses.”
You gave a weak laugh and dropped down into the dirt, giving her a thumbs up. “W... Where would I even go?”
A few seconds went by before Ellie returned with both horses behind her. She stopped right next to you and began to freak out, her hands going all over your back and behind your pack straps where she let out a hiss of pain. You had shards of broken glass embedded in your skin and your shirt was now soaked with blood. “Here, gimme your hand.”
Wordlessly, you slapped your palm into her grasp and braced yourself for her to yank you on your feet, which she did. You tried to keep your foot off the ground, but it was almost impossible.
“Can you get on?” Ellie questioned and you just nodded, grabbing at your horse’s saddle and jumping off the ground on your good leg, swinging the other one over the side of his back and forcing yourself to slide the foot on your broken leg into the stirrup.
Ellie jumped on Shimmer way faster than you could, and you both immediately began to ride back to Jackson, not even bothering with the checkpoint. Someone else would have to come out here to clean up your mess, and it would most likely be Maria and Shawn… As if she didn’t have enough to do already.
When the gates to the town opened up, Ellie was already helping you out of the saddle on your horse, putting one hand on your hip and the other holding your wrist as she slung your arm over her shoulder. The amount of concerned looks you two received made you feel sick. You’d have to tell everybody now that you broke your damn leg because you couldn’t move fast enough.
“Could you all stop fucking looking at us and help?!” Ellie shouted, her anger level rising as everybody was whispering but no one was doing a damn thing to help.
“What happened?!” You looked up and made a face of distress at seeing Joel and Tommy looking down at both of you, your face turning red with embarrassment. You felt so stupid.
Ellie readjusted her hold on your hip. “A building fell down; I think her leg’s broken—”
“Oh no,” You laughed, but there was no humor in your voice. “It’s definitely fucking broken…”
“Alright, c’mon then,” Without even warning you, Joel was bending down and lifting you up off the ground and into his arms, so you didn’t step on your bad leg. It was then that Tommy noticed the glass buried in your back and he immediately started swearing. “Ellie, tell Maria what happened. Gonna get her to the tent.”
As soon as you were out of earshot, Ellie let the biggest gasp escape from her mouth in her entire life. Her hand went to her chest, and she doubled over, almost like she was trying not to throw up after all of that. “I’m sorry… God damn it, I’m so sorry…”
The next few days were pretty much absolute torture for you. After the doctor had realigned your broken bone and placed you in a splint, you had been bedridden for the days to come. The timeframe given was not great… 4 whole months of nothing? 4 whole months of being trapped inside of your home with absolutely nothing for you to do? How in the actual fuck were you going to survive?
With stitches on your back and your leg wrapped around metal rods to keep it straight as it healed, you were pretty much incapacitated for the near future. Even getting yourself out of bed was a nightmare. And taking a shower may as well have been curing fucking cancer. It felt impossible every single time and you had no choice but to tape a plastic bag around the metal rods, so they didn’t rust against your skin.
It was early morning and you had just gotten yourself out of bed, sitting on your reclining chair in your small living room and watching one of your many movies you had retrieved during your patrol missions. Your leg was propped up on the bench in front of you, and you were content to stay like this all day long, unless you had to pee or something.
Of course, you were content… And then someone knocked on your damn door. A sigh left your throat as you paused the movie and pushed yourself off the chair and onto your feet. Maria had given you a set of crutches and that was the only way you would ever possibly get around for the near future. This was quite actually the fucking worst thing ever.
“Hold on,” You said as the person knocked once again. You opened the door, not even bothering to look through the window, and stumbled back a bit on your foot, your cheeks turning a soft pink.
God, Ellie sure looked like a kicked puppy when she stood like that. “Hey…”
“Uhm…” You cleared your throat for a second and stepped back. “Hi. Is there some—”
You paused and looked down, seeing that there were flowers in her hand and a solemn look on her face. Suddenly, you felt like she hadn’t come by to tear you apart for getting yourself hurt. Well, she was here for something, wasn’t she?
“How are you doing?” Ellie held the violet-colored flowers in both hands and looked over your shoulder before looking back down at her hands, almost like she couldn’t look you in the eyes.
You frowned. “I’m fine, Ellie… I just have a break, it’s not the end of the world.”
She nodded, still looking at the ground. “Right… Can I— Can I come in? I have something I need to say.”
What’s stopping you from slamming the door in her face? What’s stopping you from saying no and telling her to fuck off? Well, nothing was stopping you… but you kind of didn’t want to. If anything, you wanted to hear what she had to say… Plus, that fucking puppy-dog look was just melting your heart.
You pushed the door open with the crutch and limped away from the door, allowing Ellie to come inside of your home. She closed the door behind herself, and you hobbled your way into the kitchen where you began pouring a glass of water for her. It was just in your nature to be hospitable, apparently.
“What’s this about, El?” You sat on one of the barstools and slowly looked down at your wrapped leg, trying not to think about how your bone was all sorts of fucked under the bandages. Ellie offered the flowers to you, and for a brief moment, you forgot about your broken leg.
Ellie took notice of how you winced when you sat down, and the stitches on your exposed back. Her heart ached at the sight of them. “Listen… I didn’t mean to… W-What I’m trying to say is… I need to tell you—”
You snorted and she finally looked up to meet your eyes. You noticed her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s my fault you broke your leg… shit, I never meant for this to happen. I wasn’t trying to like, kill you or anything, that was a joke—”
“Ellie,” You reached out and gently grabbed her hand. You saw her whole body tense up as she looked down at you, and you responded with a smile at her confusion. “It’s okay… I’m just happy you’re okay, you know?”
The redhead looked down at her shoes… Those dirty, beat-up converse that you loved to tease her about and how she needed to fucking wear something else every once in a while, or she would be walking with holes in her soles at some point. “Yeah, well… you kind of saved my ass.”
Your own cheeks turned a soft pink as you looked down at the flowers in her hands and slowly reached for them. She offered the velvety flora for you, and you inhaled the scent of them. It reminded you of the smell of rain on a dirt road in the morning… They were definitely beautiful, and you felt something in your chest when you looked up at Ellie who was giving you a slight smile.
“Wasn’t gonna just stand there and do nothing, El,” You placed the flowers down on the counter as carefully as you could and offered her the glass of water. “I didn’t want you getting hurt… And yes, you were the dumbass that went up there in the first place, but I shouldn’t have been laughing about you getting stuck up there.”
“No, no, you were in your right to laugh,” Ellie cleared up. “It was a stupid-ass thing to do.”
“Mmmm, yeah it was,” You chuckled, watching as Ellie took the glass from your hand and looked down inside of it. “It’s not poisoned, dipshit.”
“Just making sure,” She shrugged her shoulders and sipped on the water, making you smile once again… Fuck, this was nice. It was so nice to talk to Ellie and not want to kill her for a few minutes. It was so comforting that she didn’t blame you, and that she was coming to apologize… Like she felt guilty about treating you like dirt for the past 4 years or so…
There was this warm fuzzy feeling in your chest as Ellie sat across from you at the bar and you couldn’t shake the feeling no matter how hard you tried.
It only took 3 months instead of the predicted 4. You did everything the doctor told you to do, and you were cleared for patrols in the morning. You were ecstatic at first, but then you saw the route… You were running with Tommy, and Joel was going with Ellie… But you wanted to go with Ellie; you told Maria you wanted to go with Ellie! Why didn’t she listen?
“Hey Joel,” You pulled the Texan to the side in the paddock and suddenly felt like you were asking his daughter to the fucking prom. “Uh… Is it okay if we switch routes? I-I wanted to go with Ellie.”
“Yeah, uh… about that,” Joel rubbed the back of his neck and looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but there. What happened? “Ellie doesn’t wanna go with you.”
It was like you had just got hit in the face. Your emotions went all over the place but mostly, you felt betrayal. What happened between you and Ellie recently that made her not want to go on patrol with you? Was it from the shots you two took turns doing last week? Was it when you were staring at her in the pastures yesterday? Maybe it was from the way you held her hand during that scary movie you two watched… What could have been the reason?!
Your hands clenched into fists, and you walked over to the stallion with your name on it, grabbing at his reins and yanking him away. “Thanks anyway, Joel.”
You saddled up next to Tommy, taking the rifle he gave you and checking to see if the chamber was loaded. You glanced down the line of patrollers and saw Ellie sitting next to Joel on her mare, checking her own rifle. When she looked down the line and made eye contact with you, she immediately looked away. What the fuck was her problem?
After being stuck in a house for 3 months straight, you had come to find something out about yourself. You had a very short fuse, and almost no fucking patience. Sitting in this kitchen alone, looking down at the countertop and remembering those flowers Ellie brought you when she first came to see you…
In the last 3 months, you two had gotten close. And it wasn’t the guilt that made her come around. No, she genuinely enjoyed your presence and you felt like her being with you was a breath of fresh air. You saw her a lot, and she would come outside with you when you wanted to walk around and stretch out your good leg.
And suddenly, she was cold to you… Like she couldn’t even stand to fucking look at you again. Your heart sunk down into your stomach and you looked out of your kitchen window. It was already dark outside, and you were desperate for answers on why she treated you like such shit… Why couldn’t Ellie even look at you?
In your state of anger, you grabbed your jacket from the coat rack, slid on your shoes, and you were out the door in seconds. It took a full 8 minutes to walk to Ellie’s little shed home behind Joel’s house. You pushed the back gate open and walked up to her front door, banging on the wooden surface with your whole fist.
“Gimme a damn minute!” Ellie shouted from the other side of the door. Your rage just seemed to rise as you curled your hands into fists and as soon as the door opened, you were putting a hand on her chest and shoving her inside of the house. “Jeez— the fuck is going on?!”
You spun around, slammed the door, and stared her down like she just hit you in the face… which you had half a mind to do to her once again. “What the fuck happened this morning?”
Almost immediately, Ellie flinched at your words and looked down. At least she had the damn decency to look ashamed of herself. Of course, when she said nothing, it didn’t help your anger. You just got even more heated, and you stepped forward. You were a few inches taller than her so you had superiority here… at least in height.
“We have been… we were fine! I thought we were good, Ellie. Why? Why are you back to treating me like this— Are you ashamed to admit to your fuckin’ friends that I’m now your friend too?”
Ellie recoiled as if you had just slapped her. “What? No! No, why would I—”
“Then why is it,” You started, stepping forward and towering over her. Ellie inhaled sharply and stepped back, almost tripping on the stuff all over her floor. “As soon as I’m cleared for patrol, and you’re around your friends again, you start treating me like shit again?”
“I didn’t mean for you to—” Ellie gasped and stumbled until the back of her legs hit the bed and she caught herself before she fell on her ass. “Did Joel not tell you?”
“Oh, he made it pretty fuckin’ clear, Williams,” You snapped, and your face was inches away from hers. It was like all those times before that you two had gotten into fist fights. Only this time… Ellie was actually backing down. She acted like she didn’t want this to happen; she didn’t want to fight you at all. “You better explain yourself. Or I swear, I will walk out of that door, and I will never, ever speak to you again.”
The silence was deafening. For the first time in a long time, Ellie was speechless. Her heart was racing, and she was panting as if she just ran a marathon. You scoffed, your lips twisting into a vicious snarl and your brows pulling down with aggression. “Fine. Fuck you then, Ellie.”
Your hand wrapped around the front handle of the door, and you were about to turn it when you felt a hand close around your wrist. You were mere seconds from punching her in the face, but you sure as shit couldn’t do that after what Ellie just did.
The redhead grabbed your wrist with one hand, shoved you by the chest with the other, and slammed her lips against your own. A loud inhale pulled from you at her sudden assertiveness, slamming your body into the door and digging her nails into the skin of your wrist. Well, this certainly was not what you were expecting, like at all…
Ellie acted desperate as she practically devoured you, her lips moving against your own with a feverish desire that you simply couldn’t wrap your head around in that moment. You were still in shock more than anything, but at least you weren’t mad anymore, right? No, just confused now.
A few seconds passed as Ellie reached up and curled both hands into the front of your shirt, and you put your own hands on her jaw, pulling her away from your lips with a wet SMACK! She felt like heaven on your lips, but you needed answers.
Of course, pushing Ellie off was a lot harder than you originally thought. As soon as you separated her, she would dive back in to steal another kiss and you felt your heart pounding in your chest all over again. Breathing her in with every fiber of your being, you mutter against her mouth, trying to get a word in edgewise but matching her kisses with equal ferocity.
“El…Ellie, W-what is—” You paused and gave her one very long kiss and broke it just to finish your sentence. “What’re you doing?”
“M’sick of it,” She whined, sliding one of her hands into your hair and the other slid down the front of your chest before gripping you by the side and pulling you flush against her torso. A gasp left your throat and Ellie took that opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth. “So, fucking tired… tired of pretending like I don’t want you.”
The color that rose to your cheeks could be seen from space. You inhaled hard through your nose and wrapped both arms around her, like you might drift away from her if every single inch of your body wasn’t pressed against her own.
“God, El,” You cooed sweetly, enough to pull a whine from her throat as she dug her nails into your shoulders. “Didn’t know you were so hot for me—”
“Don’t fucking make me regret this,” She scowled, looking up at you with that familiar challenging look on her face that you found yourself adoring very quickly when it was under different circumstances. Well, if she wanted a challenge, when did you ever back down from the chance of putting Ms. Williams in her place?
The most mischievous smirk crossed your face, and she had no idea what was in store for her. You reached down and grabbed at her wrists with one hand, lifting them up and spinning so this time, it was her back pressing into the door. You pushed both hands over her head and held them there, keeping her hostage and looking down with the biggest grin possible.
Ellie was completely speechless, and her entire face went red with embarrassment. “W-What the fuck was that?”
You slowly slid your free hand up the length of her side, tugging up her shirt as you moved, nails gently raking across her pretty freckled skin. The way her body shuddered against yours was a sure way to make you groan as you leaned down and pressed your mouth against her neck. You inhaled her beautiful scent and pressed your lips down on her hot skin.
“God, you smell so good, El,” You purred as you kissed from the start of her shoulder up to the base of her jaw. Ellie’s hands flexed inside your own like she wanted to fight back. For a small moment, she managed to pull her hands forward, but you quickly slammed them back. It seemed like you had a lot of pent-up strength and energy to burn off from being bedridden for months.
“W-Wait, wait, wait,” Ellie begged, squirming against the door and making you look up for a second. Her desperate tone was what pulled you away and you slowly released her wrists, taking your hands back away from her body. Her body was trembling, and she looked like a frightened bunny in your presence. You suddenly felt like you went too far.
“Are you okay?” You slowly reached out and felt a slight wave of relief when she didn’t shy away from your touch. Both hands went to her face, and you stroked your thumbs across her jaw.
“Y-Yeah, I’m just…” Ellie breathed, putting a hand over her chest and inhaling through her nose like she couldn’t catch her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“No, no, Ellie, it’s okay,” You forced her to look back up in your eyes. Her pupils were dilated, and she looked terrified. “Hey, hey… look at me.”
Every time her eyes would try to look away, you would coax her into looking back up in your eyes, pressing a soft kiss against her nose and trying to calm her down as best you could. All you wanted was for Ellie to calm down… But like everything else that happened between you two, that was proving to be even more of a task than you thought it would.
You only relaxed when her breathing went back to normal. Very slowly, Ellie returned her gaze at you and gave you a haphazard smile. A breath of relief filled the air, and you pressed your forehead against hers. “There you are… if you want to stop, it’s okay—”
“Wait, no, no, no, wait!” Ellie grabbed your shirt and yanked you forward before you could back away. You stumbled on your feet and had to slam your arm into the door above her head, so you didn’t end up slamming directly against her. The noise that she made was enough to send you into fucking cardiac arrest. Her eyes were now focused on your strong arms, and she trailed her gaze up to the length of your neck and to your eyes. “…Fuck.”
Your heart sped up all over again and you looked like you wanted to eat her alive.
“Ellie,” You huffed out her name, and she responded by saying your name almost in a taunting manner. “Listen, we can… we can talk about this, and we can… You know, we don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for, it’s—”
You squeaked embarrassingly loud as she yanked you back down and slammed your lips against her own once again. She reacted to your kiss like it was a breath of air after being underwater. Like it was all she could need to stay calm and collected.
The way she squirmed against you was almost like she wanted more, but you were worried that she just wanted to stop but couldn’t voice it. “It’s okay, baby… I won’t hurt you; I promise—”
“Fuck,” Ellie bit down on your bottom lip and inhaled your entire being with desperate intent. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… I can’t take it anymore.”
You were planning to question what she meant when you felt her grab at your wrist and placed one of your hands around her neck. Almost instantly, you gently grabbed her throat and pushed her back against the door, using your other hand to block her head from smacking into the wood. She groaned as your grip tightened on her neck and it was like she didn’t have a dominant bone in her body.
The way Ellie just fully gave you the reins and relinquished control of herself… it was doing ridiculous things to you. Very slowly, you pulled your hand away from her throat and reached down, grabbing the underside of her thighs and yanking her away from the door.
Despite how obvious it was what you were planning, she still swore with surprise when you picked her up off the ground and wrapped both of her incredibly strong legs around her waist. It was no secret that you were stronger than her, but she was faster than you… It was one of the reasons you two were always at odds. Back when you were younger, Ellie would challenge you all the time. She always won in her mock race, and you always managed to beat her at arm wrestling… It may have been where your feud started.
And now, things were different; so different. Ellie used to hate that you could pick things up so easily and she was beyond jealous that girls fawned over you when they saw you working in the stable and not going on patrol. She thought she was jealous of you… But now she’s seeing that wasn’t the case. No, Ellie wanted you to pick her up and toss her around like she was a fucking bale of hay.
And that’s exactly what you did. You kept both hands on her thighs and took a few steps back before turning on your heel and dropping her down onto the bed underneath you. The sound she made was beyond gorgeous and you felt like you were gonna lose it.
“God, what the fuck are you doing to me?” Ellie whined, arching off the bed as you trailed your lips back down her neck. With one finger, you pulled down the collar of her shirt and without warning, latched your teeth down against her neck. She immediately grabbed your hair with both hands and yanked, hard, making you hiss in pain and pull back away from her skin. “Y-You’re pissin’ me off, you know that?”
All you could do was laugh and immediately pull yourself back. She struggled against you and tried to keep you on top of her, but you simply grabbed her wrists and held them over her head once again, towering over her and gently taking hold of her chin with your free hand. “I can go, y’know… Don’t even have to be here, baby. You’d have to fuck yourself—”
“That’s… Shit, that’s not…” Ellie fumbling on her words was the cutest thing you had ever seen. You smirked, like you always did whenever you won one of her stupid contests and dragged your fingertips across her neck and down over her chest. She looked so angry with you, and yet, she couldn’t stop from giving you the most adorable moan you’ve heard in your life.
Your hand stopped at the hem of her shirt, and you paused. “Can I take this off?”
“I’m gonna be pretty fucking upset if you don’t,” She snapped back, making you shudder with excitement. It was like you couldn’t take her clothes off fast enough. Her shirt was the first to go, and then her jeans followed, along with her sneakers. She yanked on your own shirt desperately, almost tearing the fabric with how aggressive she pulled, and you decided to take pity on her, stripping yourself out of your own clothes and grabbing her hips in order to pull her up higher on the bed so you could fully encompass her body.
You couldn’t help but stare at her, your strong hands grabbing at her leg and lifting her knee up so you could press down between her thighs. Feeling her bare skin against your own was like electricity in your bones and you had to remind yourself to breathe as you kissed all over the expanse of her chest just above her sports bra.
“St-stop fucking teasing me,” Ellie said, almost losing it.
“Ellie,” You broke off from her chest and grabbed at her sports bra before slowly pushing the fabric up around her chest and staring at the soft swell of her breasts. You had to press your thighs together and you were practically drooling over her. “You’re so fucking sexy.”
Her face went even redder at your words, and you immediately bent down, your tongue sliding all over her skin and tracing between her breasts. She threaded her fingers in your hair as you grabbed the soft flesh and squeezed, nails digging into her skin and gently rubbing her nipples with the pads of your thumbs. The way she whined was adorably pathetic and you just wanted to hear even more.
You trailed your lips down her flat abdomen and gently pinched at her nipples, marveling at how her stomach sucked in when she gasped. It was like it was too much for her, and you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing her even more. “Baby… You gonna cum just from me playing with your tits?”
Ellie gasped and slammed her fists into the mattress, sitting up off the bed and looking down at you like she wanted to set you on fire. “I can… almost promise you,” Her voice was breathy and deep, and it made you even wetter. “If you don’t fuck me in the next five minutes, I will hurt you.”
“Promise?” You grinned and slipped your thumb into the elastic of her panties and slowly pulled them down her thighs, tossing the fabric away from you and onto the floor. You had wasted enough time already. And now all you wanted to do was give Ellie exactly what she wanted.
“J-Just… Just fucking fuck me— ohgod! ” Ellie choked on her breath the second she felt your fingers against her slick folds. Her legs opened up for you and she shuddered with each stroke of your fingers along her cunt and creating a map of her with your mind. You didn’t touch any place in particular, and you didn’t let your touch linger; you kept her on edge the entire time.
Every time you pressed your fingertips against her opening, she would bite her lip and grab the sheets with her hands, and then when you pulled away, she would start pouting. You did the exact same thing with her clit, pressing the pads of your index and middle finger on her sensitive bundle of nerves and gave a few little rubs before moving away. It was the most aggressive form of torture she had ever felt in her entire life.
“Stop! Fuck, fuck, stop it!” Ellie yanked your hair until your lips were away from her hip bone and looked down at the many love bites and hickies you left in your wake. She was practically fuming with desperation as she got on her knees and used your hair as leverage to push you down onto the bed as she climbed on top of you. “Fucking pain in the ass.”
“Oh? What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You teased, biting your lip as she pushed your head into the pillows, slowly crawling up and making it so you couldn’t keep teasing her. You shut up pretty fast when she swung her leg over and her pussy was inches away from your face. She was absolutely soaking wet, and it was clear that this was a final ditch effort to force you to fuck her.
“Maybe this way,” Ellie grabbed at the headboard behind you and spread her legs even more until she was centimeters from your mouth. “You’ll finally shut that pretty mouth of yours.”
Ellie didn’t expect the dominance from you as you grabbed her ass with both hands and yanked her down onto your face. With a sharp intake of breath, Ellie whined and began to grind herself against your mouth as you began to lick at her slick cunt. You knew she was strong and in all honesty, could most likely sit on your face for hours without her legs getting tired. And it was why you were confident enough to hardly even hold her in place.
“Fuck,” Ellie pushed her face into the wall and held still as you sucked on her slick folds and slid your tongue up until it was pressing on her clit. She squirmed a little at the pleasure and you immediately grabbed her hips with your strong hands, holding her still and licking at her clit fast enough for her to see stars. “ Fuck ! Oh fuck…”
It was adorable; you were on the bottom but you were still in control of her. There was no autonomy left with her as she moaned and did her best to hide the way her body was reacting to your thick tongue. You were certain that you would leave bruises on her skin as you held her in place and practically destroyed her on your mouth.
And while it was so nice that she was giving you enough room to breathe, a part of you wasn’t having as much as you wanted. You slid your hands up from her hips and grabbed her waist, yanking on her and growling with dominance. Ellie responded with a groan at the vibrations from your noise and looked down to meet your heavy-lidded eyes.
“Shit, I… I don’t want to crush you–”
You moaned against her folds and lifted her up for a second just so you could speak, and she was already upset that you stopped. “If you’re gonna sit on my face… you better fucking sit down. Don’t just hover; sit!”
For a moment, Ellie was reminded of when you yelled at her to jump. She was right about that… So why not this?
You let out a breathy snarl and decided to make the choice for her when you pulled her back down and immediately went back to eating her out. Your tongue lapped at her clit and you kneaded her strong ass with both hands as she leaned back and pushed her hand into your thigh in order to stay sitting upright. Ellie couldn’t keep quiet even if she tried, grinding down against your mouth and rubbing her juices all over your face.
“Yeah, just like that…” Ellie moaned, her head falling back as she held you by the hair and slowly moved her other hand between your legs. It was like you knew because you immediately started spreading your legs and dug your heels into the mattress while she put her entire palm against your clothed pussy. The noise you made just seemed to make her even wetter. “N-Not gonna… let you have all the fun, Jesus christ your mouth feels so good…”
You simply hummed with approval and arched up into her hand as you wrapped your lips around her clit and sucked. She let out a tiny squeal at the sensation and immediately reached inside of your panties, pressing her fingers in between your own slick folds and rubbing at your clit without holding anything back.
You couldn’t say anything; all you could do was moan into Ellie’s cunt as she played with your pussy, your eyes squeezing shut and your mouth collecting all of her wetness as best as you could. The mess you were making was beyond vulgar. Her juices dripped from her cunt and all over your face, creating a huge wet spot on her sheets behind your head. Your drool slicked her up even more and your tongue spread it around, the sounds reverberating off the walls and making her blush with just how loud you were when you feasted on her pussy.
“God, fuck yes,” Ellie cried. “Ugh, you know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you princess?”
The nickname had your eyes rolling and you responded with a soft smack to her ass. Ellie gasped and responded by sliding her hand down and pushing two fingers directly into your tight cunt, making you scream into her pussy. Even when you were eating her out, she had to make everything a fucking competition.
With one final slurping sound, you lifted Ellie off your face and looked up, gently grinding up into her fingers as she slowly pumped them in and out of your wet cavern, soaking your panties and smirking, feeling like she finally got the upper hand. You chuckled and slid your hand from her ass and began to prod her opening with your own fingers.
“Easy baby,” You cooed sweetly between your own whines of pleasure as she gently curled her fingers upward and stroked along your soft inner walls. Her hips were moving on their own, bucking against your hand as you leaned forward, kissing her hip and slowly pushing both fingers inside her slick cunt. “Fuck, slipped right in… Naughty girl–”
“Shut up,” Ellie scowled. “T-trying too hard to… ohhhhfuck…”
With a simple twist of your wrist and your fingers bending inside of her, she finally stopped complaining. Her words died on her tongue as she kept still but pounded at your pussy with her long, strong fingers. “Look at yourself, baby… Oh, you love getting fucked, don’t you?”
Ellie was too far gone to fight back and her hand began faltering on your cunt just trying to hold it together. You were the lucky one to get a front row seat of seeing her pussy spread apart on your digits and you began to push them in and out of her, listening to the slick sounds of her liquids squelching on your hand and how she was practically bouncing on your hand.
“Yeah? Oh, you finally decided to shut the fuck up?” You taunted, and all Ellie could do was cry out. You pumped inside of her a bit faster. “Hmmm, that’s it baby… That’s it, good girl… Fucking love how your pretty pussy stretches on my fingers.”
Ellie slowly released you and in that moment, you took the upper hand once again. In mere seconds, you were shoving Ellie down into the bed, slotting between her legs, and immediately pushing your fingers back inside of her without letting up. You pushed your knees into the mattress next to her, an arm going over her head as you were hovering away from her face. Your lips were so close to her own and she kept trying to meet them for a kiss but all you did was drag the tip of your tongue over her mouth and teased her while fucking her into the mattress.
“Alright, let’s see…” You breathed down and Ellie fisted her hands into the sheets, her moans spurring you forward as you twisted your fingers around inside of her cunt, stroking along her inner walls to see if you could make her go from soft moans to full on screams which you would need to silence anyway with how fucking thin the walls were in her shed.
“Wha– What are you– AH! Fuck! ”
“There it is,” You leaned down and pressed your lips on Ellie’s before you began a brutal pace, pumping your thick fingers into her pussy and hitting her sweet spot with every movement you made. Her screams were muffled by your mouth and you pressed your tongue down against hers, tracing the grooves in her teeth and hissing at her bite down on your bottom lip. “Hmm? That feel good baby?”
Normally Ellie would snap, or she would have some clever retort or insult for you, but not this time. Ellie just groaned and nodded, eyes rolling back in her head and her inner walls clenching down on your fingers. It didn’t matter though, because you didn’t slow your speed. And when you twisted your wrist, Ellie arched off the bed and into your hand.
From how bad she was squirming and wiggling around underneath you, and how her moans were growing in pitch, you could tell she was right on the edge, and you wanted nothing more than to push her over.
“Come on baby,” You got closer and dragged your tongue across her neck and down to her shoulder where you gave a soft little bite into her skin. She squeaked, and it quickly blended into a wanton moan as you slammed your fingers up into her poor stretched out cavern. “Come on, cum for me. I know you want to.”
“Fffffuck…” Ellie purred, biting down on her bottom lip and trying not to scream bloody murder as you slammed down into her. The beautiful way that her body was rolling into yours, and how she was holding you by the arms, so close to crescendo that she wanted to cry. Not to mention the way you were looking at her like she was about to be devoured like a fucking feast.
“Go one, scream for me baby,” You leaned down and kissed over her neck, angling yourself so you could press your thumb against her clit and rub at the sensitive bud while thrusting your thick fingers into her. You ignored the cramp in your wrist and refused to let up. Ellie was so fucking close and you wanted to be the one who brought it out of her. “Scream for me. Let everybody in this fucking town know whose fucking you so good.”
Her hips bucked up into your hand and you half-expected her to actually scream. But no, Ellie had a better idea in mind. Her inner walls squeezed your fingers and her moans grew with pitch before you felt her pulse around the digits, her head going back as she opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out.
You were worried she would actually shriek but Ellie fell forward and bit down on your neck, hissing through the pleasure as you fucked her through the orgasm of her life. Tears began streaking down her face as she whimpered into your flesh and ground her hips down into your touch.
A bruise would almost certainly be left behind on your skin, but you didn’t care. You held her close and gave soft little kisses against your cheek as she had a moment of relief before she felt your fingers still moving and she immediately grabbed for your wrist to make you stop.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck, stop stop stop,” She pleaded, forcing your hand to still as she looked down at you, breathing hard and shaking with aftershocks of euphoria. Very carefully, you pulled your fingers out of her cunt and gave her clit a few more rubs before retracting completely and rubbing at her inner thighs. “Jesus fucking Christ…”
“Mmm, no, that’s not my name baby,” You teased, kissing her jaw and falling down next to her. Ellie scoffed, but was still smiling when she smacked your arm. You giggled and rested your chin on her shoulder, kissing at her sweat covered skin. “Wanna tell me now?”
Ellie huffed and looked over at you while wiping the tears away from her eyes. “T-Tell you what.”
“Why you didn’t want me with you on patrol,” You sat up a little and she blushed at seeing you were still in your underwear compared to her. “I find it hard to believe that this is the reason. Unless you like me that much…” Her silence was not comforting and you continued to jeer her.
“Am I to believe you didn’t want me there because you wanted to fuck me that bad?”
“No, dumbass, that’s not–” Ellie put both hands over her face and she sighed. “I can’t get you hurt again…”
You slowly laid down next to her and took one of her hands away from her face. “I’m the reason you got hurt… It was my fucking fault, and I don’t want it to happen again.”
Almost instantly, you were leaning up and pressing a kiss to her lips all over again. Ellie whined against your mouth and slid her fingers into your hair, gently scratching the base of your scalp and making you groan on her mouth.
When you broke the kiss, you pushed those auburn bangs away from her forehead and stroked down the side of her face, touching her in the most gentle possible way to convey that you could be gentle sometimes and not always be a hard-ass like she said you were.
“Ellie… If it meant that you were safe, I would risk my life ten times over just for you.”
Your words resonated inside of her, shaking her to the core as she blushed and took one of your hands into her grasp and kissed the inside of your wrist. This time, it was your turn to blush as she looked up and gave one final kiss before releasing your hand.
“Don’t die for me, princess.”
“No,” You chuckled. “I’d rather live for you, baby.”
#lgbt#lgbtq#ellie williams#the last of us#tlou#tlou ellie#ellie the last of us#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x reader#ellie williams smut#tlou smut#nsft#long reads#personal favorite#sub!ellie#i used to be the queen of sub!ellie#you guys have no idea#im bringing it all back i swear#i write sub!ellie sooooo good
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I'm not sure exactly which day counts as "weekend" bc of cultural differences lol but you can ignore this if it's not on the permitted day!!
But for the brief Rollo x reader thing that's you're doing, can I please have something with him and a reader that is generally very tactile? One day they grab his hand to pull him somewhere as they absentmindedly ramble, and they don't realize it until he speaks up about it (or not....? <w<)
hii anon!! ofc this is a very cute request
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ cold hands
type of post: short fic characters: rollo additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
Winter in Fleur City is as unkind as it is beautiful.
Autumn's colorful embrace was short and sweet, giving you but three weeks of cozy, lukewarm mornings before the trees were bare and bending in the breeze that carried along the Soleil.
The first snow of the winter season had completely frozen over the river.
It had also kissed everything in frost, blanketed the streets, and canceled classes at Noble Bell College for the morning. It was heavy and restless.
It became no wonder to you that the people of Fleur City were eager to put up their tinsel and candles. The smell of cinnamon and pine is an effective distraction from the icy wind, after all.
And so, without classes to attend to, you find yourself walking through the city on crushed snow, already muddy with boot prints and animal hooves, to a seasonal cafe which had just opened.
Oh, and the Student Council President has offered to escort you.
It's, apparently, quite an ordeal; the few Noble Bell students you pass by in the streets stop mid-snowball fight or nearly drop their to-go coffees from their mittens when they see you, bundled up in Rollo Flamme's scarf, walking hand-in-hand.
You honestly hadn't even noticed you had grabbed him. It had been somewhat of an impulse, your cold, undressed hands feeling out for something to hold.
And usually, that would have been a quill, or one of those artisanal wooden blocks this city so loves, just something to run your thumb over while you think, not the Student Council President's hand.
But he doesn't say anything, and, more presently, doesn't pull away.
"You really ought to have dressed warmer," Rollo says, fussing over the scarf he'd given you off his own neck. "You'll catch something, and missing class over a frivolous venture such as is unacceptable."
"I suppose I didn't think of it,"
"Then next time," he says. "I don't know what I would do with myself if you were ill. It's the busiest time of year."
Right. Finals are coming up.
"I won't do it again,"
He sighs. "I know. Now, come along. Morning classes may have been dismissed, quite unnecessarily, I might say, but we'll both be expected on campus at noon,"
His hand tightens around yours, and his pace becomes brisker, cutting through the myriad of tourists and laughing children and pigeons. He shields you from the falling snow and blistering wind, holding you behind him until you reach the cafe.
It's bustling and loud inside, busier than the annual cafes you're used to visiting, but Rollo somehow has you in and out with a warm drink and a pastry in no more than five minutes.
You have the treat outside, your hands already cracked from the dry cold in the air, and once you've finished he slips his hand into yours and begins walking again.
There's not much conversation. Rollo is a strange man; some days, he's happy to talk about the history of Fleur City or what he's studying in Noble Bell's prestigious law class, and some days he's like this. Quiet.
His hand is surprisingly warm, though, despite the cold he seems to maintain a high body temperature all on his own. He runs a thumb over the back of your hand, feeling the dry skin there.
"You're freezing,"
"I'm okay,"
"Honesty is a virtue," he snaps, his sharp way of reminding you that he can always tell when you're lying, and he doesn't like it.
"You'll catch your death of cold. And then what would I do?"
For a fleeting moment, you can swear he gets a little warmer; or, at least, his hand does. You must be imagining things.
The silence lingers like the cold in the air, but, finally, he gets you to start talking about your favorite class subject, which you do until you've reached the gates of the school.
Rollo stops you, bids you an overly formal good-bye, and takes his hand, too, leaving you with the cold.
Hm. He seemed so off today. You wonder what that could be?
You won't realize that you'd been holding his hand all morning until later, but for now, you're content with the mystery and the warm scarf he left on your shoulders.
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I'm so excited you're taking requests for Rupert Campbell-Black!!
Do you think you could maybe fo #15 from your prompt list about him showing up for the reader bc they don't have anyone else?
Idk if just love that trope and I think it works with him.
If you don't feel inspired by that one no worries!
Someone in the crowd
prompt15 Rupert Campbell Black x fem!reader
word count: 5.3k+
warnings: parental neglect, mild swearing, hurt comfort, FLUFF
AN: Ahhhhhhh ANON I love you this is my fav prompt I was initially planning on the same one anyways thanks for platform ing my Rupert obsession you’re the first one
The chronicles of the country side for a veterinary sciences PhD student included more than just animals, main reason she selected a university so far from the hustle and bustle of the city. Peculiar animals in their natural state, she came across more than just peculiar animals.
Trespassing loses its meaning for the engrossed researcher, she didn’t realise when she passed the forest to a private estate land whilst following the slow worm. The most advanced high end camera, that Rupert had only seen with those media folks and proper film production. However he assumed the girl in a camouflage jungle vest to be an intern in a tabloid firm, trying to prove herself to be ever so efficient to her superiors by sneaking in to his property for a few pictures. Too naive to realise he could sue her for all her fortune perhaps. Rather an amateur at her job perhaps, she was there to snap him yet her attention didn’t avert to him on his horse before he approached her himself, “Young lady” he cleared his throat sternly “You do realise you’re trespassing here?”
“Oh?” She looked out of her camera lens to the voice that called out her and in an instant she lost sight of the slow worm she was following. “Fuck!”
“And if you don’t delete the pictures and get off of this land right this second I will be suing you for all the jobs you don’t already have.” Rupert threatened, he truly misliked this breach of his privacy to no end. But because the girl seemed unskilled and gullible to her supposedly first job he felt he could let her get off easily.
“I’m not deleting any pictures I barely got two” she said with a heavy sigh, her eyes frantically searching for her subject within the grass again not too bothered by his threat. “And I don’t have any job as it is”
“Oh” he amused, getting off of the saddle of his horse to level with her, “are you one of those fans then? How many times do I have to tell you people-“
“What?” Her attention broke from her subjected reptile to the man this time, “a fan? I don’t even know you…”
“Oh right” he scoffed placing his hands by his hips, “surely you don’t.”
“I truly don’t. I was following my subject for today from the forest lands and I ended up here it was an honest mistake” she explained herself as she opened her camera to show him the pictures, they were all reptiles and not…him.
“You were following a snake?” He asked rather confused and somewhat intrigued as to what would bring her to this.
“It’s not a snake, it’s a is a legless lizard. Anguis Fragilis” she corrected the man, ever so casually as if it were the most common of knowledges to attain.
The man just burst into laughter letting go of the horse chain to contain it, his hand on his chest he could find the joke in the name and the scenario extremely comical. “You have got to be kidding me!”
Y/n felt a bit embarrassed as if she’d said the wrong name so she went through it in her head again and she wasn’t, wrong. It was perhaps like college again, info dumping on the wrong set of people who poke fun at peculiar passions. But the man seemed to be too old to be like those immature college kids who mock others so she was left rather confused “what is so funny?” She asked hesitantly, “it’s rather rare and native to this area we don’t come across them in the city…” she trailed off trying to fill in his boastful laughter with something to feel less uncomfortable.
“Oh is it now?” Rupert asked as his laughter subsided and he realised the girl was an enthusiast in a true fashion. He just found the name of the godforsaken reptile to have a double meaning to it, he thought she made it up but when she got awkward and explained further he realised she wasn’t joking. “My apologies, are you new here?”
“Yes Ive actually moved here for research, I’m studying veterinary sciences for PhD… ” she said still feeling a bit self conscious after he’d laughed like that.
“Anus Fragilis huh?” He repeated trying his best to suppress another set of laughter but he failed at it ever so evidently.
“Anguis…er-slow worm.” She cringed as she picked up on the joke that had him loosing his composure like that. Perhaps she judged him to act his age which he looked so fast. “It’s also called slow worm. I lost him regardless, so I’ll get going. Sorry to bother you.”
“No, no hang on a second darling” he said gripping her elbow as she attempted to leave but as she returned to face him again he left it just instantly. “Since you’re already here, allow me to indulge you in a coffee or so? It would be very disappointing if I don’t get to learn more about…” he wanted to say it, the joke. But the awkwardly offended look on her face of feeling small wasn’t worth it so he kept it to himself “slow worms and legless lizards”
“They’re the same.” She briefed him feeling his ignorance, the PhD aspirant did not seem to have time to entertain his indulgence. “Forgive me but I have to go, I’ve walked too far from my car.”
“Well then allow me to drop you?” Rupert offered with his usual charm which didn’t leave to phase a lot.
Not her perhaps, “It’s not that far” she said curtly. Packing her camera equipment in a hurry. “Thanks. And sorry for trespassing.”
Rupert watched as she hastily packed her lenses and the rolls. Just when he thought he could work on himself to not offend people on first impressions, he generally didn’t do so with ladies so perhaps this was a first. “I’m Rupert Campbell Black” He put his hand forward for a handshake, “Sports Minister.” He introduced himself.
She had both her hands full with her books and camera, which she could rearrange back in the bag to accept his handshake but she’d rather not so she just nodded shortly. “Yes, Mr. Rupert, so nice to meet you.” She said with half a smile, then paced away not even waiting for his reply.
“I suppose I’ll see you around?” He said with his usual grin but she was already pacing away back to the path she’d come from.
That is how the two first met. Not her most memorable nor pleasant interaction but surely intriguing for the minister. The next time he met her, late early evening at a cafe. It took a second to recognise her with her head down in a book but there was enough lighting cast on her against the window where she sat. “Slow worm!” He exclaimed as he approached her causing her to avert her attention from the book to him.
“You…” she trailed off however her tone didn’t match the same enthusiasm as his. “Hi.” She said as he gestured to the chair across her on her table, asking if someone was there but she shrugged and nodded “Please, go ahead” she said being polite, internally bracing herself for another awful interaction.
“I was hoping I’d run into you” he told her leaning forward on the table crossing his arms, “turns out, your little bugger is a frequent visitor of the stable sheds back at the estate.”
“That explains yeah” she nodded closing her book, the size of it gigantic and hardcover it made a small thud, “it eats slugs and snails, spiders too…”
“Wonderful aspect” Rupert complimented, under informed on the subject he didn’t know what to say. “Did you get proper observations for your research?”
“Superficially yes” she nodded, “I’ll run into more of those one of these days.”
“You can always just visit my place again…I would be honoured to help out a bright mind.” Rupert offered leaning back in the chair, unbuttoning his blazer.
“That is so kind of you, I’m very sorry for trespassing that day” she said it again, obviously not friendly enough with him to take him up on that offer.
“Well you could make up for it by telling me your name.” He shrugged as his lips formulated a smile.
“Y/n.” She told him. As the conversation progressed, learning more of him, telling him more about her research and the subjects she’d come across so far. For someone in a vastly different field he was such an attentive listener. She’d told him a lot, about the animals, her thesis, her lectures and sessions, being a TA, moving here.
“And what of your friends?” He asked her over his second cup of coffee in the same conversation because he wanted to keep it going.
“I don’t live on campus so I don’t have roommates to be friends with, then I’m a TA but everyone else is a bachelors and third year student. Had I done college here I’d have those friends…I do have friends from college back home but as of now it’s only my professors.” She informed him, very casual with it but as she formulated the picture in his head it seemed to be a rather isolating experience.
“And what do you do for fun around here?” He asked her to see if it was as isolating as he realised.
“Trespass estates.” She joked with a small giggle, but in truth she did absolutely nothing for fun because there wasn’t anything.
“Greatest hobby ever” he joked back. But as she didn’t follow up with another activity he realised that if he pried about it he’d just force her to admit she led a boring and somewhat lonely life. He wasn’t judging her, she was fresh out of college and had to move a whole place and seemed to have no friends here. Well except for him if she’ll have him. “Are you struggling?”
“Of course not. I love my work, I can easily afford rent too it’s not a problem.” She replied honestly, if only financial was all of her struggles.
“Don’t you think you’d save more if you lived on campus?” He questioned unsure of her choice to stay in a boutique flat in one of the most expensive neighbourhoods.
“My father wouldn’t allow it. He’s a bit of a tone deaf classist that way.” She admitted, rather casually.
“Allow?” He repeated, surprised. He didn’t know her precise age but by her educational status and the looks of it someone in their early twenties didn’t need their father’s permission on how to live.
“It’s just a bit complicated, he wants all of his children to take the right step that is work in our family business, his company. I tried, it’s soul draining and very unlike me” she sighed “So I just extended education.”
“To get far from him?” He perceived, perhaps not the way she saw it.
“—To explore my options. I don’t want to disappoint him when I can avoid it.”
“And is this the way to be?” He asked, his tone guarded and expression curious.
“Perhaps.” She replied, but on the inside she was so hyper aware that anywhere farther from the family business as all the way to be. She didn’t want to distanced from her father nor her family, she may not be the golden child but she wanted him to be ever so proud of her even though she didn’t walk on the road he chose for her.
“Your spirit likes the fight doesn’t it?” It was more of an observation than a question.
“I don’t indulge in self awareness that well” She replied with a bemused shrug and he just let out a low laugh that. And that was her first friendship in Rutshire. To Rupert’s likeness the cafe was another one of basil’s side quests but he visited there less frequently given the bar was his primary. Regardless, Rupert got him too. The prime customer and his newest friend, studied there most of the time because she lived close by and Rupert felt drawn to her company.
She had no other and he found her growing to be his favourite one. He fancied the conversations with her so much, in her absence basil teased him about it. This one afternoon, Rupert visited as his usual time, or perhaps y/n’s usual time which he picked up on but she wasn’t there. “The coffee can’t be that good.” Basil said with a small scoff, as he found Rupert with a disappointed expression in the girl’s absence.
“I’m just trying to reduce the alcohol intake” Rupert said nonchalantly, well aware he didn’t the caffeine he’d been consuming just for the conversations with her.
“I wasn’t talking about the coffee” Basil added with a devious grin hinting at the double meaning joke he was referring for.
“Piss off” Rupert rolled his eyes at the man with a heavy sigh of irritation sitting down at the table, rolling up his sleeves and facepalming. “This is her usual time to come and study here” he mentioned.
“Which you don’t let her do.” Basil said, the entire time indulging the poor girl in conversations and spontaneous outing plans. “She’d have to be extraordinarily brilliant to keep up with her courseworks with all the detours you put her up to.”
“She is extraordinarily brilliant.” Rupert briefed him.
“I suppose you’d know.” Basil shrugged leaning against the table where he was sat, “Does she have a boyfriend?”
Seemingly offended at the mere thought of that Rupert’s expression disgusted, “Of course not!”
“Of course not?” Basil repeated surprised with his affirm expression. “So you are sleeping with her.”
“I’m not sleeping with her.” Rupert emphasised on the word ‘not’ and it was probably the tenth time that Bas had asked him that this moment.
“Of course not” Basil humoured him mimicking his tone when he said that.
“I’m not, it isn’t like that with her.” Rupert tried to explain that to his friend who found that to be such a foreign concept. It was a very strangely unknown and unspecific feeling for Rupert himself too.
“You don’t want to sleep with her?” Bas questioned not believing nor understanding the prospect “she’s rather pretty.” besides he’d sleep with anything.
“She isn’t just pretty Bas, she’s beautiful, a bit too much even on the inside.” He paused “She is precious.” Rupert spoke with such genuine passion that basil had to lay off of the joke he was brewing.
“And what of you?” Basil asked, it was something Rupert hadn’t even questioned himself for well not yet anyways.
“What of me?” He answered the question with a question feigning innocence. Before basil could further explain himself, even though well aware that Rupert understood him. The bells of the door jingled announcing upcoming presence in the nearly empty cafe causing the men to turn at the voice.
“Hello-Hello, Gentlemen!” Y/n exclaimed in the most enthusiastic Sunday morning tone possible but it was a cloudy afternoon on a Tuesday. To Rupert she always sounded like a Sunday morning with her little giggles and all the mannerisms but today she seemed way more lifted with spirits.
“Want to bet a tenner she ran into a coyote.” Basil said as she made her way to their table sitting across Rupert whilst basil was still leaning against the table.
“I bet you a twenty its a pine marten.” Rupert said, he picked up on everything from their conversation. This week she was in search of that specific animal from her list or so, he kept track somewhat subconsciously.
“It’s neither” She said with a smile still plastered on her face as she sat her bag down to the side placing her hands on the table. “I’ve got great news, well not great but perhaps good, great to me.” She went in an adjective discourse and shook her head coming back on track “My professor submitted my thesis to this government honorary publications department and I’m getting an in-kind research grant!”
“The government is giving you money?!” Basil matched her enthusiastic tone leaning forward on the table.
“No, no it’s an in kind grant…as in-they present me with an award but the big thing is that I get policy access, lab space, government authorised datasets…” she explained further with her eyes so lit up Rupert wanted to bottle this warmth of emotions he felt in just seeing her happy like this and drink it like water.
“You are getting an award?!” Rupert said with loud earnest passion for her excelling. “Y/n! That is marvellous news!”
“You fucking genius!” Basil added further, giving her a side hug and kissing the top of her head, giving her hair a ruffle as he walked across the cafe, “this calls for a celebration!”
“Thank you” She replied with a toothy smile. Feeling very heart warmed. Then Rupert took both her hands in his, he looked just as lit up as if it was his award.
“My darling, you absolute mastermind. Your mind is a wonder, y/n I am so so proud of you!” He said, he didn’t have to reaffirm or reassure more so because out of everyone she’d come across, Rupert had been so supportive, a subject and felt so unfamiliar yet he’d reassured and let her know it so constantly that she’d always have him to be cheering so hard for her. “You deserved this!”
“Rupert, that is so kind! Thank you, seriously” she replied with a glint in her eyes he could feel coloured by. Just about on time, basil blasted the confetti cracker he happened to have lying around. He turned the open sign to closed at the door of the cafe and returned to the table, slowly she let her hands out of Rupert’s.
“Didn’t have champagne in the cafe but this should do” Basil said as he presented their table with a small cake.
“You didn’t have to close the place” y/n said with a small giggle as she saw the cake, a sign in red jam crossing out the name ‘Einstein’ and Y/n in its place. Classic Bas.
“Oh please love, I deserve this celebration.” Bas said with a dramatic roll of his eyes, any reason to not work was reason enough.
“Right of course since he worked so hard.” Rupert joked clearly forgetting he owed the man in staying the cafe for him to keep it open just in case y/n might come in. They kept congratulating her over and over again as the trio dug into the cake.
“So when exactly is the award function?” Rupert asked, it was going to be event of the week for him more than it was for y/n.
“It’s on this Friday, I get one visitor pass and my father is flying out to attend it!” She said, ebullient. It did irk him somewhat because he’d wanted to see her receive the award but he knew how much her father’s approval meant to her so he was happy in her happiness regardless.
“That is great news, what did he say?” Rupert asked keeping his disappointment for not being able to see her at bay.
“His assistant put me through in the very second call so he must really be impressed, he asked me about the function and he sounded very positive of it.” She told them about the seemingly brief phone call.
“You have to talk to an assistant to get to your fath-“ basil was quickly interjected with a small shove on the leg from Rupert to take a turn in that observation. Rupert didn’t want it to rain her parade, “It’s so nice he’s coming all this way.”
“He’d probably stay a day or two after that you should meet him!” She added, it seemed as if she was somewhat more joyous with the fact that her father was pleased than the actual award to her name. It was a grey line.
“I would be delighted to.” Rupert said, he would be. At least for her sake despite having his internal doubts towards the man.
-
The award function was an extremely formal event, you could barely tell apart the professors from the bureaucrats. Rupert could tell the difference easily though, he simply knew the later group, almost all of them. But he wasn’t there for any of those people. Taking his seat at the round table, next to the faces he knew very well but he was way too focused on the happenings of the stage to indulge in small talk. And then there it was.
The lady of the evening. At least for him, her research dissertation was called out and he recognised it was her turn before they presented her name as well. White shirt with several pins of animal welfare and her educational institution. Simplicity and grace, ever so precious. As she received the medal and the award plate Rupert clapped perhaps the loudest, standing up even. The stage wasn’t so far but she didn’t spot him because her eyes were searching another direction and the procession was short lived before she could avert her gaze.
Finally after all the names were done, she was free from the stage back to the softly mingling crowd. “There she is!” The enthusiastic exclamation caught her attention from her lost trance.
Adhering the man in suit with flowers in his hand, surprised and radiated expression, “Rupert?!” She was baffled and so relieved she didn’t understand the later feeling. She rushed to him, their distance getting closer as he opened his arms for her.
“Congratulations, darling” he said bringing her into a tight embrace both of them so joyous, hers was rather infectious. He easily lifted her from the ground out of glee, kissing the side of her face. “You were wonderful out there!”
“When did you get here?” She asked once he put him down and she pulled away yet kept her arms entangled with him. Enough to just see his face, “also how?”
“I’m an MP you thought I wouldn’t be able to get into a government function?” He amused, surprised she did not see it coming, perhaps she wasn’t expecting him but her reaction seemed as if she would rather prefer him. “I got here an hour before yours was announced.”
“I am so glad you made it!” She told him, the effort was so heartwarming to her. He’d came to an event which wasn’t initially his, making more arrangements to even get in for her. She didn’t want to voice it because he’d always reply with such a strange concern as if being loved more than to be sustained wasn’t optional, she wasn’t used to this concern nor sentimental support.
Rupert could tell her kind, wide eyes in a sort of turmoil of something she couldn’t figure out by even herself but he didn’t pry on it, “where is your father?” He asked looking around shortly.
“Oh he…he isn’t here. He could not make it.” She said with a small shrug, that is how casual his absence was to him.
“—How come?”
“Probably his flight, I forgot to notify him about our time zones or so. If he were skipping he would’ve called prior” there was a small hope tugging at her heartstrings trying to believe this wasn’t like the other times. “He would be here anyways, would just be missing the event.”
“I suppose” he replied curtly, being presented with two choices of either being truthful with her of her father’s harsh and uncaring constitution or hold the hope she held out for the man with her. None of the two seemed befitting to him. As the event progressed she introduced him to some of her professors and people that she worked with, he did the same with the other officials that he knew of. She grew tired of the socialising and asked him if they could leave the event, she wasn’t as tired as she was growing disappointed of a man who wasn’t even in the room.
Even though Rupert and her came to the event from a different place and were going back in difference directions it was a given that they leave together. At least to him it was, she’d just informed him she felt like leaving and he stood up in an instant. He was dropping her back to her place because she didn’t driver herself to the function. The two were walking, to his car in the chilly night with his suit blazer draped over her shoulders, flowers and his hand in her hand, he carried her award with her bag for her and a light hearted conversation. Serenity which ran away once they came across a pay phone call booth. “Do you mind if I go make a call?” She asked him, he nodded but he was well aware who that call was intended for.
Rupert leant against the phone stand with the small door of it open, close to her as she pressed the numbers inserting coins. Anxiously awaiting the other line to answer she replied when a voice answered “Hello, this is me, y/n. Did dad leave yet?” She asked, he hated to see her in such distress and was afraid the conversation ought to make it worse. “What? What do you mean—the event, my award he was going to be here for…like he promised.” Rupert could only hear y/n’s side of the conversation but he could pan out the other side, which wasn’t even her father just some office assistant. “Just let me talk to him…please…two minutes perhaps?” It was difficult to watch, begging for the scraps of her father to an assistant. After a few moments the call ended and she couldn’t even stomach the courtesy of a goodbye.
As she walked out of the booth he searched for her to meet his eyes, narrate to him the happenings of the call. “His plans changed” she said but nothing further. He could tell she didn’t feel like talking so he stopped walking and also held her back from the track, pulled her into his arms. Resting his chin on top of her head as he held her, enlacing his arms around her tightly. He could definitely stay like this for rest of the night. Even life? A small voice suggested and he quickly dismissed it as he was pulled back to her, she didn’t feel relaxed in his arms even though she hugged him back and her face so steady, he felt his shirt getting sprinkled with dampness, as if in smallest portions.
“Y/n…” he trailed off pulling away to confirm if she was crying, “are you crying?” He asked as she lowered her face so he couldn’t see it but he leant in her direction to see. “Hey..hey, it’s alright” he pulled her back to him letting her weep onto his chest as he ran a hand through her hair.
“I don’t understand why I feel so bad” she said through her tears, holding onto him like she would fall apart even more if he let go. Perhaps she would.
“It is alright darling just let it out” Rupert said as he continued to sooth her in his arms, trying to provide a present, grounding support.
“He promised me…” she trailed off crying harder, all those events where her father should’ve been present but wasn’t came back to her. Fancy dress competitions at school where the chauffeur that dropped her off would have to attend the show out of pity for the child, birthdays where he would have to be bothered a multiple times to come attend cake-cutting, evidently sad over a test but he simply couldn’t be bothered to ask his daughter if she was alright. So much life spent in I-promise-you-I’ll-be-there. So much disappointment and you’d think one would learn. “I just feel stupid-I thought this time would be different.”
Rupert held her face in his hands “look at me” he said forcing her to meet his gaze. “You are not stupid for what you feel, you are not at fault for someone so detached and irresponsible towards their own child.” He spoke whilst wiping her tears, “he will forever be an incomplete, deficient man for the kind of father that he is. But you my love are beyond him and how he treats you, you’re brilliant and kind and funny and you have a heart big enough to hold a planet. You are going to go so far, your suffrage of his conditional love and inflicted anguish will heal for the better. I promise you that.”
This was a better hope than the one she was always latched onto, hoping that he would change, come around for once. But letting go and a promise for a softer tomorrow seemed so much more beautiful. “But I am so tired”
“You have been so gentle through so much…you must have been tired too. But persevering is constant and you, you always do. There is so much life within you, those around you are infected with it, I know I am.” He confessed, he hadn’t voiced it out especially not like this even to himself but she was more than a lively feeling, more than a chase or a rush for attraction. No. She was life.
Such admission made her heart flutter, she felt the drumming in her ears and it wasn’t the anxious kind. This felt like a sunrise after a good dream, but she had no words for it because her eyes spoke enough and so did his that wandered down to her lips and back to his. Reciprocating the course of gaze when he leant forward, face so close she didn’t move even by the slightest tired of awaiting him to inch to the closest extent she caught a soft grip of his shirt, lowering her gaze right when he crashed his lips onto hers. She kissed him back and it felt heavenly, as the kiss deepened he felt like he had reached there.
Smiles glued to their faces once they pulled away to catch a breath, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear he said “you are not the only one who’s won something tonight.”
“That means I’ve won twice” she said with a small giggle adding to his exaggeration that kissing her felt like a win.
“That isn’t the same.” Rupert corrected her, going in to kiss her again with a slower passion, taking his time letting the sweetness of it linger “for me this is centuries worth of wins.”
—
IVE SO MUCH MORE OF HIS STUFF COMING SOMEBODY SEDATE ME…next his enemies to lovers let me know if you want to be tagged
PLEASE comments are my fuel I am HUNGRY for validation please if you like this please please let me know
#rupert campbell black#rupert campbell black x reader#Rupert Campbell black x you#rupert Campbell black x fem!reader#rivals disney+#rivals#rupert Campbell black fanfiction#rupert Campbell x reader#rupert x taggie#taggie x rupert#declan o’hara x reader#declan o’hara#tony baddingham
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🌙 Moon Phases 🌙
Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1472
Chapter 42:
The boy was gone, having gotten what he wanted from the road, and now he was free. The lights above you flickered again, few remaining alive; a sign that your time was almost up.
Agatha looked at the place where Billy was as she leaned back, thinking of his question. "No, Billy. Sometimes... boys die."
You parted your lips but remained silent, feeling that those words were not just directed at Billy but also to herself.
Pieces fell into place in your mind, now a clear picture formed that filed the blanks you had.... that answered almost all of your questions.
"Is this you forgiving Rio for taking Little Nicky?" You dared to ask, your voice soft and empathic.
Agatha finally looked at you, surprised by your deduction. You were good with those things, but she did not remember you being that good.
"How did you find out?" She asked.
You offered her a weak smile, the topic as sensitive to you as it was to hers. Perhaps little more, considering this was a talk about the relationship Agatha developed with Rio... who might had become your replacement if things had turned out differently.
"I did keep wondering what Rio had done to you, to cause such rift... unexplained rift that didn't fully justify your feelings for one another."
Immediately, Agatha felt guilty.
"Sugar -" You did not let her finish.
"It's okay, Ags," you gave her a pained smile. "I mean, Nicky did look a lot like Rio while growing up... and I have come to peace with it. When I left you... I never made anything clear, and it would be wrong of me to expect something from you." You took a deep breath. "Considering who Rio is, it finally clicked that it was his passing that divided you."
Agatha did not comment, unsure what to say. She could thank you for your understanding and passive forgiveness. She could try to justify Rio and Nicky... but she realized it would change nothing.
Things had been set on stone, and they could not be changed. What could be changed, though, was your chance to get out of this road and return to your free solitary life... to finally be free from the curse thar seemed to follow Agatha and was affecting you.
"Okay, sugar. It's time for you to get what you want from the road and get out of here, " she said, changing the topic as she pushed some of her hair above her shoulder.
"But I have already gotten what I want," you explained, shocking her for the second time. She watched you move to sit right in front of her, taking her hand and holding it with both of yours. "What I wanted was for a chance to join you, Agatha. To truly help you find what you are looking for, not to watch you go alone while I stay back; never to join you. "
Agatha was once again speechless at your sweet confessions, at your unyielding loyalty to her. Even after all those centuries, even after all those times she walked away; you remained.
You did not lose faith in her. You didn't stop caring and worrying for her.
You never stopped regretting every time you turned down Agatha and lost the chance to join her.
She didn't know that, and in that moment of revelation, a single tear escaped her left eye.
You moved one hand to wipe it away gently before it could roll down her cheek, and you offered her a sweet, comforting smile; beaming with light and love, unmatched by anything else... except for the look Nicky would give her when he was alive.
"I told you. I am with you until the end." You reminded her and squeezed her hand in reassurance.
Agatha used her free hand hand and cupped your cheek, every move done with outmost care; as if you would break into thousands of pieces with a wrong move.
"This might be the end, sugar." She admitted, slowly accepting the fact that she was not going to survive the road the second time.
"Then I will be happy to know I made it so far with you. If it means dying, I don't mind as long as I am in your arms. "
Agatha was the first to pull you into a hug this time, her arms wrapping tightly around you; passively seeking comfort and also trying to get control of her emotions... of her mind and her heart.
You returned the action without hesitation, squeezing her in your arms with all your might; as if she would disappear into thin air if you dared to let her go.
You buried your neck into her thick curls, eyes closed as you fought back tears; both getting emotional over the confession while accepting more and more that this could be the end... for both of you.
Another flickering light above you reminded you of the time that was left, but it was not your concern anymore.
Slowly, you pulled back but kept your hands interlocked; never letting the other truly go
Agatha looked at you with care, and she chose to open up one last time. "You know... I am not ready to confront him yet." She confessed.
"Little Nicky?"
She nodded. "I... he was not meant to be born, Y/N... Rio gave us time, and I paid her back with the bodies of other witches I drained... and it all worked fine for 6 years, until the night... the night he asked me not to go after the witches... the night Rio had to take him back."
You squeezed her hands, seeing how misty her eyes were becoming as she relieved those dark memories that overshadowed the good ones she had with him.
And you could see it because you knew it was what Agatha did in such situations. Dark moments were the only things she truly remembered, letting them consume her heart and make her forget the good ones that existed at the same time.
So, you chose to change that.
"He was a brave boy, Agatha," you started, making her focus on you. "I can still remember how mesmerised he was, when we told him we survived the Road... and how proud he was of that... of us..." Agatha let out a mix of weak chuckle and sob while your heart ached with each beat as you remembered the sweet and innocent face of the boy you had come to love as your own. "And I remember how persistent he was to learn of the Ballad, wanting to go down that Road as well... and when we told him no, he just made up his own Ballad... and each time you would visit, you two would have finished another part of it. "
Agatha sniffed, and you swallowed a lump down your throat, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes; threatening to escape and roll down your cheek.
Your breathing was difficult as you tried to keep down the sobs, the memories happy but also painful; a reminder of a brighter time in your life, a time that would never be able to be replaced.
"I remember," Agatha said weakly with a faint smile, your retelling reminding her of the sweet moments you were talking about.
"I don't think he will ever judge you, Ags. He loved you too much," you reassured her.
With shaking hands, Agatna pulled away from your grip and went to unclip her amulet; Evanora's brooch with the triple Goddess, a steady item of her wardrobe.
She slowly opened it, and from inside, she gently held a short patch of hair; neatly tucked inside for safekeeping.
"I have kept it with me all this time... to never forget him, " Agatha confessed and placed the hair close to her heart, wishing deeply that she could feel and hear Nicholas' heart beat one last time.
You could only watch as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, the moment too precious and heavy to be interrupted. This was a deep point in your relationship and even deeper in Agatha's trauma with the loss of her son.
Agatha, with teary eyes, was about to put the lock back into the brooch when she noticed something... something that she swore was never there before.
She placed the hair back and took out what seemed to be a dried up seed/petal of a dandelion. So weak, small and tiny... unable to ever grow.
As your eyes landed on it, sowmthing clicked inside your mind; just as the lights flickered, and now you were left with only one.
"Agatha, the dandelion!" You exclaimed. "That's the key to this trial!"
Chapter 43
#agatha harkness x reader#let me know if you guys want an AU chapter#a filler about Nicky and Agatha and Reader in the past#agatha all along#agatha harkness#agatha spoilers#agatha fanfic#agatha x reader#moon phases fanfic#kathryn hahn#marvel#aubrey plaza#lebsian#angst
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EVERYTHING WAS A MISTAKE — prologue.
Sumary: A fateful meeting with someone from your past brings painful revelations.
⤷ pairing: yandere!satoru gojo x fem!vampire!reader.
⤷ warnings: dubcon (kiss only), attempted suicide, description of blood, injury, threats, slight stalking (Satoru is chasing the reader around).
⤷ more information about story: here.
⤷ notes: this is my first time posting a fic and I'm a bit scared, I hope you enjoy it, I also decided to make each chapter a different color, the synopsis for example is pink, while this one is a pale green, almost yellow, I hope you don't mind. Have a great day!
⤷ word count: 3288.
Life is like a butterfly, ephemeral, beautiful, and above all, fragile. You watch people stumble on the pavement, your face reflects subtly in the glass of the window, fortunately people aren't able to see you from the outside, you'd like to warn them about a small incline in the pavement, you yourself have stumbled there many times before realising, you close your eyes and laugh until your cheeks hurt, not out of mockery, but out of shame at imagining how many people have seen you stumble.
The shop manager snaps her fingers in front of your face to get your attention, you cough and pull yourself together, you see a gleam of curiosity light up in her hazel eyes, you smile at her and tilt your head to the side subtly, she understands the signal and watches a wanderer trip and fall, she covers her mouth with both hands to stifle her outrageous laughter.
You stop yourself from laughing along with her, she has a contagious laugh, sometimes you can't help it, you turn and walk away and leave her amused at the window, you take the cloth off your shoulder and scrub the counter and the till. You've been working in the flower store as a general service assistant for eight months, you weren't looking for a job, but Gloria, the manager and owner of the store, needed a handyman to help her, you were passing by and stopped to look at the flowers, she asked if you were new in town and if you didn't have a job yet, you even thought about tricking her and saying you didn't need a job, but you were honest and when you answered her, she grabbed your arm and dragged you inside, since then you've been working for her.
You're not used to spending a lot of time in one place, there's a huge target on your back, so you're always leaving without looking back, but after getting to know Gloria and the city better, you couldn't leave. You went behind the counter and leaned your arms on it and laid your face in the palm of your hand, you pulled up the sleeve of your blouse and looked at your wristwatch to check the time, in a few minutes Gloria's children would arrive from school and you would be alone in the store.
Tonight you're going to accompany Gloria to an art exhibition, she's shouting from across the store so that you don't forget the promise you made her, if you accompany her, she'll buy you that expensive perfume from her sister's perfumery, you couldn't let that opportunity slip away. You hummed, you haven't been on dates since you were young, before your life turned into the hell it is, you used to go on dates with your old boyfriend, in the past you arranged a date with him and then it all happened, you couldn't make it because of the circumstances and he was furious. Thinking about it makes you uncomfortable.
You shake your head to clear away the painful memories, you haven't seen or heard from your boyfriend for ten years, you don't even consider him your boyfriend anymore, after all, years have passed, he could be engaged to someone else by now. You tap your nails on the counter when you imagine him with someone else. Your bad mood disappears when Gloria comes in to excuse you from work. She announces to you that she'll be leaving early so that you can both get ready to go to the exhibition.
"So... see you later."
Your expression changes from water to wine, your face becomes brighter, the strange thoughts that were running through your head disappear completely. You give Gloria a tight hug and say goodbye, you've arranged to meet her in front of the store at 20:00hrs, you check the time on your wristwatch, it's 17:30, you have enough time to get ready. You go skipping down the street, but the tension in the air makes you stop abruptly, you feel like you're being watched, but when you analyze your surroundings, there's no threat around.
You're always on the alert, not least because your clan has been hunting you like an animal for years. However, paranoia has already made you make mistakes, and you don't want to make mistakes tonight, you have a date! You shake your body and slap your cheeks to dispel this feeling, you tell yourself that nothing bad is going to happen tonight. For a moment you look up at the dazzling late afternoon sky, there are no clouds covering the stars and the setting sun because it's summer in Brazil, but there are a few puddles of water in the street because it rained in the morning, the weather is really crazy here, you can experience all the seasons in a single day.
You greet some familiar faces along the way, the children in the street come to greet you and you offer them warm hugs, you tell them to wait for you, whenever you can you bring bread and sweets for the children, because there is no adult to look after them. Your house is in the middle of a dirt road, not far from the city, but far enough away that if anything happens you'll be able to hide your tracks, the house is old and small, but it's much better than some places you've lived.
You walk for about fifteen minutes until you reach the house, the feeling of being watched comes again, you pass through the gate of the house and look back and to the sides, there's nothing there, but when you reach the door of the house you freeze when you don't hear the characteristic click of the lock. The door is open. You frown and swallow, whoever is behind this door is skilled enough to escape your enhanced senses. You're not human, so whoever is watching you is skilled enough to bypass your vampire sense of smell.
You open the door slowly, there are lots of weapons scattered around the house at strategic points, you just need to pick one of them up. You close the door behind you and look for clues in the hallway, there are no signs of a break-in, no footprints or even traces of someone having been there, but you're not convinced yet. You take off your shoes and grab a dagger hidden inside the umbrella holder, walking on tiptoe and sneaking around the walls, you look from side to side and change position several times.
You search the whole house twice as a precaution, there's nothing, and you're beginning to think that your paranoia is getting the better of you. Yet something tells you not to drop the dagger. You never go against your sixth sense, because most of the time you're right, you close your eyes and stand facing the bedside table in the living room, you take a deep breath and wait, if there was someone there, surely that person would appear. But to your surprise no one has appeared. You feel frustrated and relieved at the same time, you go up the stairs and into the bathroom with the dagger still in your hand, you start getting ready for the meeting, you promised yourself you wouldn't be late and you're going to keep that promise.
You've chosen the best outfit you have, it's nothing fancy, but it's the most beautiful dress in your small closet, it's long with short cream-colored sleeves, there are some birds embroidered in blue on the chest, you've put a checkered belt around your waist as an extra accessory, because the only jewel you have is the reliquary you carry around your neck. You don't normally wear heels because it's difficult to run in them, but today you made an exception. You look at your watch and it's almost time to leave.
You go downstairs excitedly, singing and twirling around, you go to the kitchen and fill a basket with bread and some sweets you've ordered, in your haste you forget your dagger on the counter. Suddenly, a strange presence hovers around the house, you stop abruptly in the middle of the corridor and wait for the other person to attack first, you spin on your heels ready to punch the intruder, but you are blocked by an invisible wall and the basket of bread falls with the impact. Your eyes glaze over in a mixture of surprise and confusion, you know that not many people know your weaknesses, but there was a certain someone who was highly capable of doing it: Satoru Gojo was the name of that person.
"Hello, Y/N." He greets you with a cynical smile. "Long time no see."
"YOU!" You vociferate with your jaw locked.
You're very close to each other. However, before he can speak, you take a glass of acid from your pocket and throw it at the barrier, it's useless, but it gives you enough time and space to get away from him and think clearly, you take a wooden dagger from behind a painting on the wall, a gun would come in handy now, but you were too far from the sofa to pick it up. You can't defeat the great Satoru Gojo, you don't have the power to do it, even if you are good at the art of killing, the Six Eyes are the real stone in your shoe. No matter how skilled you are, you can't escape those eyes.
"How the hell did you find me here?"
"Glad to see you too." He keeps his attitude unassuming and calm, but he's not happy that you've become so strong and skilled, the last time he saw you, you wouldn't have even noticed his presence. "Aren't you going to say hello?"
"Why are you here?" You remain impassive.
"You really don't know?" He raises an eyebrow, as if you've asked a rhetorical question. "You gave the elders of the four clans, including mine, a lot of headaches, so the old men finally gave me permission to come after you."
You wrinkle your nose, this man has come all this way to kill you, you just don't know when or how, you turn your gaze to his face, he's so serious wearing that pair of blue glasses with square lenses, it's ridiculous, but you can't judge him, since you hid the pair of custom-made sunglasses he used to wear, back then you harbored deep feelings for him and decided to keep that pair of glasses with you as a souvenir. It's funny that people who are very close can go from people who know each other to people who don't know each other anymore. A lump forms in your throat and it's hard to breathe, despair takes hold of you, like a spark falling on a pile of straw. You don't want to go back, you like it here, your new life, without curses or evil sorcerers, but you also don't want to be hated by the people you love.
"It's no use trying to run away." He warns you, and it's amazing how his every word sounds like a veiled threat, he takes a step forward and you step back. "But I'm not going to kill you."
"Not now..." You mumble, laughing scornfully, you don't believe him, it's in your face, you step back and take a good look at him, he's wearing expensive clothes, but too simple for his taste, he's also aged in recent years, he turns his face away when he feels the weight of your gaze, strangely uncomfortable. "If you're not going to kill me, what have you come here for?"
"To take you, of course." He sounds as if he's stating the obvious.
"Of course." You shake your head in agreement, you're still laughing. "Of course..." You lean on the wall of the house and laugh until your stomach hurts.
"Is this some kind of joke to you?"
"Of course!" You repeated again with false enthusiasm. "I'm not going back with you, not over my dead body. But you wouldn't kill me even if I hurt you, right? The merciful Satoru Gojo, the man who doesn't get his hands dirty, not even when faced with a murderer." You sneer at him, and he doesn't like it one bit, the last few years have turned you into a cynical and suspicious person, maybe he was telling the truth, but he didn't say anything about hurting you. You hold the dagger steady and point it at his face. "Only one of us is getting out of here today."
You'd kill him without hesitation if you could, he knows it, but you're not interested in a fight, if you knew how much his power has grown while you've been away, you wouldn't be pointing that knife at him. You're also aware that it's a losing battle, you can't win even if there are ten of you, so you decide to use the only card up your sleeve, your own life, you point the dagger at your neck, it's a risky move, but if he still has feelings for you, he'll let you go.
"You wouldn't do that, you're bluffing." He doesn't seem very confident that you're going to kill yourself, after all you value your life so much that you've been running away for years, so you've pierced your neck superficially, but enough to make it bleed. "You crazy suicidal bitch, don't you dare!"
His reaction gives you a little confidence.
"LET ME GO!" You shout.
"I CAN'T, OKAY? PLEASE STOP THIS SHIT." He runs his hand over his face and then through his hair, making it messier than usual, he tries to get closer, but you push the blade even deeper into his neck, he grunts and bites his lower lip. "Stop it, please, I just want to talk." He stutters, his voice laced with tears.
The last time you met, he was so angry that you couldn't recognize him, yet now he looks much more like the boyfriend who loved you deeply than a hunter. You shake your head in agreement and take the dagger out of your neck, blood spurts everywhere and ruins your dress, but it's not serious, you're not stupid, you would never hit a vital point, you just wanted to scare him a bit so you could get away. Satoru suddenly approached you and put pressure on your neck to stop the bleeding, you barely feel any pain, you're used to getting hurt. You're not a sorcerer to use RCT, but you were able to heal yourself, you'd like to remind him of that, but this is the first time you're interacting with him after so long, and he was being so careful that you didn't want to stop him. You watched him throughout, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth slightly curved into a pout, he was so sexy.
You frown, strange (and obscene) thoughts come to mind, without realizing that he's watching you make these faces and mouths, the next thing you know, he's got his face very close to yours, so close that you can feel his uneven breathing touch the skin of your cheek, he looks at your lips and then into your eyes, you get goose bumps, feelings that you've repressed all these years burst through the door of your heart like an avalanche, you stagger backwards with your face turned to the floor.
Your mind is in chaos, you're distracted for a second or two, but long enough for Satoru to seal his soft lips to yours, the sweet, calm feeling of a chill in your belly, your first kiss after ten years apart. His fingers tangle in your hair and close in an inviting grip that has served to bring the two of you even closer together. He forces you to give in and make room for the real kiss to begin, he explores every corner of your mouth and rubs his tongue against yours in an obscene way, he leads the kiss in a way that you can barely follow. Before breaking the kiss completely, he runs his tongue over your lips as if to show you that he's close enough to invade your mouth again.
You choke on your breath and feel feverish, you were willing to risk your own life to get away from him a few minutes ago, but now you're here in his arms, at the mercy of his desires.
"Stop." Your throat is burning. "Please stop."
He doesn't comply with your request and advances again, so you block his lips with your free hand, he smiles and licks the back of your hand, your face turns red up to your ears, it's humiliating how he's able to mess with you and how your body simply doesn't obey you when it comes to him. However, it's so cute for him to see you so shy (resistant), it reminds him of the first time he fucked you, you were so innocent and vulnerable. Satoru wonders if he could repeat the same feat if he pushed you a little harder.
"I TOLD YOU TO STOP." You push his face away from yours, leaving him at a safe distance, you lower your head and face your feet, luckily your hair is long enough to cover your reddened face. "Say what you want and let's get it over with."
Satoru finally accepts that you're not going to give in anymore, so he takes the dagger from you and throws it a considerable distance away, he's afraid you'll hurt yourself again, you stand in an awkward silence for a while, until your heartbeat normalizes and you come to your senses. With great difficulty you look at him again, but instead of that seductive look, he's slumped and playing with his fingers, a clear sign of anxiety.
"You didn't come to kill me." You feel the air get heavy and his face turns grim after you come to this conclusion, you've never seen him like this before, only when Toji killed Amanai, you frown and hold his blouse with both hands. "Something's happened, hasn't it?" You click your tongue on the roof of your mouth. "What's wrong? Why are you here?" He laughs nervously, you've always been very clever. "Don't be quiet, you were very talkative just now."
His body is shaking, but it's not the cold that bothers him, whatever he's hiding from you affects him to the extent that it makes him shut up, and Satoru Gojo never shuts up, not even when his life was in danger did he stop laughing and babbling about how strong he is. But now he seems like a different person, completely different from the idiot you've lived with for years, and an idiot like him doesn't change so easily, he just becomes more arrogant over time. He turns his face to the floor and bites his lower lip, hesitant to tell you the truth, his heart races in anguish and you shake him, ripping his glasses off his face, at which point you see dark circles under his eyes and watery eyes. You become anxious, but before you could shout at him, he opened his mouth to answer you and you didn't know how to react, because it wasn't the answer you were expecting.
"I didn't come here because of the elders or whatever nonsense is going through your head right now, I came here because... I'm so sorry, Y/N, your sister... she disappeared."
Life really is a butterfly.
#jjk x reader#jjk x you#yandere jjk#jjk gojo#yandere gojo x reader#yandere satoru x reader#yandere x reader#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere satoru gojo#satoru x you#gojou satoru x reader
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vampire!eddie munson x somekindofslayer!you / partner!steve
2,653 words
warnings: other than kind of like, illusions to some spicy things/slight implications of dubcon, not much in this little snippet | vampire things? Idk how to tag that ya'll? like weapons, blood imagery, etc? | oh also I think modern AU but also like ST things happened but also like the party is all in the modern AU except Eddie? Idk I haven't decided, don't think too hard about it
A/N: okay, so this is a little snippet of something I started *last* October and I lost the will and love to write and I've been returning to it frequently and I think I'll be posting the full thing soonish. I hope you enjoy it (and yes, I'm cheating and counting this as 3 days)
a blurb for the "Trick or Treat, Freak?" event
It feels wrong.
There’s no better way to describe the feeling that weighs heavy on your shoulders and pricks at the back of your neck as you weave in and out of the too loud crowd.
Spilled beer and red plastic cups at your feet further marking up and ruining what you’re sure was once beautiful wood floors. Spray painted images and words foul and rude against walls with chipped paint and frayed wallpaper that hold a history people have forgotten too quickly.
Your fingers glide over the banister, the tipped cup to your lips flashing red in the dingy mirror on the grand father clock as you ascend the stairs.
The celebration below softens to a dull murmur of a crowd, the low rumble of bass as you take the last step and your lungs deflate with an exhaled breath of relief. Each door you pass is open, revealing dust and cobwebbed covered furniture and art, rooms frozen in time as the world around it kept going. You were surprised to find that none of the pop culture clad couple’s costumes had made their way upstairs this evening to make use of the more private rooms.
Perhaps there were still some things here that people didn’t want to disturb.
The claims that this home held ghosts, made you see things, the history of what once happened in this town, hadn’t dissuaded the night from happening as you had hoped. The possibility of all the sinister and spooky things the home brought only served to be fuel for a Halloween night party and practically dared the teens to host it there.
Which is probably exactly what he wanted.
Your hand discards the now empty solo cup on a dark wood buffet, finger leaving a clean swipe to it’s surface as you tilt your head to listen for anything out of the ordinary while the heels of your boots slow, then stop in front of the only closed door on this level.
The knob of the door twists easily underneath your palm, and as the door creaks open, soft light flickers above from a room you can’t quite yet see. With a deep breath, you close the door behind yourself as quietly as you can, the noise of the party now almost nonexistent. The only clue to it the vibrations from below your soles as you carefully start the climb of this second staircase.
While equally stuck in the past, this attic is littered with frequent use.
Recent too.
Candle’s wicks flicker around the room, all of various heights with melted wax now solidified in drips down their sides, which tells you they’ve just been lit, but not for the first time ever.
There’s a dark line in the slat flooring, like it’s been ripped in half and then clumsily pushed and glued back together. Something inside jars glint in the moonlight shining in from the small window on the opposite side of the room.
“Nice costume,” a deep voice from the shadows calls. A flick of a zippo sounds before the flame sparks, illuminating a figure leaning against the wall. Broad shoulders long hair falls against and a cigarette dangling between plush lips just made out in its glow as he lights it. The metal clicks together, returning him to the darkness. The end of the cigarette burns red at his side as a puff of smoke floats into the air with his words, “Buffy, right?”
Your throat feels dry as you risk a glance down at the costume, as if you need to remind yourself what you’re wearing. Little black dress, emphasis on the little. Your tits shoved up and out with a cross hanging heavy between them and little left to the imagination between the short hem just covering your ass and the tall knee high boots.
“You’re just missing one thing, vampire slayer,” his voice makes you jump, an instinctual step back only to find you’re up against the banister and he’s right in front of you now.
He hadn’t made a single sound.
“Yeah?” Your voice betrays you, cracking as the weight of something inside of your boot scolds you for not having it out and ready as he leans in, eyes on the cross on your neck as you try to sound more confident than you are, “What’s that…sorry I didn’t catch your name? And who are you supposed to be?”
In a flash, he’s across the room, twirling something between his fingers you can’t quite see as he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and paces.
“Wow, you don’t recognize me?” The chains against his jeans click as he spins with a dramatic sigh, “It’s okay, I wouldn’t remember me either.”
His leather and denim clad shoulders rise then fall in a shrug, the devil on his chest pulled tight as he stretches his arms out as if to say “ta-da”, and his tone sounds like he’s doing just that when he says:
“I’m Eddie Munson. The guy who made this place famous.”
Your heart thuds in your ears, tongue suddenly taking up too much space in your mouth as your stomach clenches.
“Yeah? That your name or your costume’s?”
“Oh,” he laughs, “Think you already know the answer to that.”
He whistles to get your attention when you look down, now acutely aware of the empty space between your calf and boot.
He waves the wood stake in the air, teeth gleaming white in his smile that brings a dimple out you can see all the way across the room.
“Looking for this, princess?”
“I’m not a vampire slayer, Mr. Munson,” you start, fingers behind your back working at the discrete silver bracelet on your wrist.
Eddie’s lips purse, amused as he leans against the windowsill, completely at ease as he watches you take a cautious step forward then another.
He grins at you when you take a third step and nods his head, encouraging you, “That’s it. Get closer. Promise I won’t bite…” he winks, “ ‘Less you want me to, of course.”
“Lotta girls take you up on that offer Mr. Munson? That what you were hoping for tonight?”
His smile grows wider, his tongue pokes at a canine that’s suddenly grown longer.
“First of all, Mr. Munson is my uncle, please,” he sticks his hand out now that you’re close enough, like he intends to shake yours, “It’s Eddie. And second, you vampire slayers…” he sighs, “Always all business, never any fun, huh?”
“Right, Eddie,” you concede, whispering, now close enough that you know he could easily do what’s in his nature. “And I thought I told you, I’m not a vampire slayer.”
His eyes flash when your hand wraps around his in a firm shake. His adam’s apple bobs with a large swallow as you take a step even closer, body between his spread legs, your neck and chest right where he’d want it. Eddie’s eyes are tinged with red, but he starts to pull away, breathing heavily.
Your eyes are on your hands still locked, and your entire body warms, heartbeat racing as his thumb swipes over the back of yours and his eyelashes flutter when you moan at the tingle the contact of his skin leaves against yours. Like the good kind of heat from a bonfire, any closer and it’ll start to burn, and any further away you’d be too cold.
Static crackles in your ear, “Um…whatcha doing, killer?”
Eddie looks directly at your left earlobe at the sound, and it all snaps you back to attention. Your silver bracelet in your other hand quickly locks around his wrist in your grasp.
Eddie blinks at you, each drop and lift of his eyelids growing heavier by the milliseconds as his hand slips from yours.
“Fuck,” he laughs, like he’s a little tipsy, head knocking against the window behind him as he looks at you from under his lashes, smiling. “You got me, slayer.”
“Not,” you swallow, taking a larger step away from him while trying to fight the urge to take off the bracelet subduing him, “Not a vampire slayer.”
He hums, rolls his eyes like he doesn’t believe you as footsteps creak loudly on the stairs behind you and your partner’s winded breath calls out your name.
“You smell good,” Eddie mumbles as you pull him to his feet and sling his arm over your shoulder, his head falling into the crook of your neck makes your entire body freeze.
His nose drags along your pulse, his lips follow, and a chill races down your spine, skin on fire where he’s pressed against it and you have to stop your teeth from biting on your bottom lip too hard or you’ll draw blood and who knows what’ll happen then. Maybe he’d lick it off your chin, maybe he’d-
“Did I just witness what I think I just witnessed? Were you gonna let him-”
“Don’t,” you gasp as Eddie sighs against your throat. “Not another word, Harrington.”
He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you wide eyed and with his mouth hanging open as you shove Eddie’s weight to him and right yourself, fixing the hem of your dress and yanking your stake off of the ground. Doesn’t say anything while you check around corners and you pretend to be three drunk idiots stumbling to a car in case any one sees. Doesn’t say anything until Eddie’s passed out in the backseat and you’re looking in the rearview for the third time in less minutes, wheels spinning against wet black top and taking you past the: “Now Leaving Hawkins!” sign.
“What the fuck-“ he starts to hiss.
“I don’t know. Just…don’t. Okay? He touched me and…and…” your heart starts thudding harder. “I choked or something. It happens to the best of us.”
Steve licks his lip before it prods at his cheek as you grip the steering wheel tighter and he looks over his shoulder.
“Compulsion?”
“Maybe?” You shrug, though not believing it one bit.
“Imprin-“
“Don’t. That’s a myth.”
It’s quiet for a few seconds and then Steve’s lips twitch.
“Horny?”
He laughs when you groan and swat at his chest. “Shut up. You’re such an asshole.”
Steve snorts, looking out the window, mumbling, “That wasn’t a no.”
You flick his eyebrow that time.
“If that is the case, I mean, there are plenty of us who’d love to help you out. You don’t gotta stoop to being sucked on by vamps if you’re feeling-“
“You want me to use the stake on him?”
The car swerves at the sound of his voice, your heartbeat in your ears as you return to the correct lane safely and see Eddie sitting up in the backseat in your mirror.
“Fucking Christ,” Steve gasps, holding his chest and facing the back now.
Eddie visibly winces at the use of the name and Steve perks up.
“Woah. That’s real?” He leans forward, eyebrows raised, “Christ, Christ, Christ, Chri-“
Eddie’s fangs sharpen and descend and he starts to growl low from his chest, eyes flashing red. Steve’s lips twitch but he raises his hands in surrender when you hiss for him to knock it off.
“Of course,” he looks at you then the backseat, “I’ll stop bothering your little toy, honey.”
Your gaze slices over to him as Steve holds his silver stake over his chest, keeping his back to the dash and eyes on the now alert vampire in your backseat.
Eddie lifts his wrist up, “What the hell is this?”
Steve smiles. “That, is a Henderson original. Powerful enough to subdue even the strongest of ghouls, goblins, vamps and any other weird ass creatures we come across - quickly and temporarily in case of emergency. A smaller version of his version of that trap thingy and that gun thingy,” he snaps his fingers and looks at you, “What are they again? In Ghostbusters?”
“The Proton Pack”, you say as Eddie asks at the same time,
“The Super Slammer Muon Trap?”
Eddie clears his throat, adjusts himself in the back seat while rubbing his neck and your eyes return to the road after making eye contact in the mirror again.
“You, uh, you like Ghostbusters?” He fiddles with the rings on his fingers.
Steve’s lips twitch when you grumble to yourself though you know they both can hear it, “Of course I like Ghostbusters, what am I, a moron?” You frown as you sarcastically add on, “And nobody’s impressed by your use of the name of the trap from the video game. It’s just a ghost trap.”
It’s like you feel his laugh inside your own chest. Warm and flowing over you like sunshine on your face after a really long, gloomy day. You tilt your head into it, eyelashes fluttering.
“Yeaah,” Steve draws out the word, clears his throat. “Those. Cause she couldn’t really go in with the big, real deal. Good thing it worked on you though, fast, too. Hepburn here was about to willingly be your human juicebox.”
“I was not-“
“Hepburn?” Eddie asks as you start to protest something you’re not even sure you can. “Is that your name, slayer?”
“Not a slayer,” you clarify again.
“And that didn’t answer my question,” Eddie raises his eyebrows in the mirror, gaze on the back of your ear, your throat. If you couldn’t glance up and see where he was looking you were sure you’d be able to feel the heat of his stare anyways.
Warmth prickles at your skin, and goosebumps rise to the surface in a trail from your ear, down your throat, across your collarbone as you imagine his mouth following that same-
“Can we,” Eddie clears his throat, he pulls at his collar, “Can we open a window or something?”
“Did you…” your breath comes sharper, words caught in your throat before you can ask him anything about the sensation on your skin. You grip the steering wheel tighter when images of his mouth moving lower break up the two lane highway in flashes.
Steve’s lips twitch when your body shivers, and you beg through gritted teeth, “Steve. Put a second bracelet on him.”
“I’m not…I’m not doing, it’s you…I won’t hurt…” Eddie puts his head between his legs and groans, like he’s in the worst pain of his life, or like he’s in the best-
“Fucking hell. Sweetheart, relax. Your pulse is…”
Steve’s lips part as your head hits the back of the seat, your neck extended as your mouth falls open and your leg flexes when you swear you feel a prick on your neck and you whine.
The bright yellow lights of a familiar restaurant break up the dark sky and road and your speedometer drops quickly from the 90 it had climbed to as you signal your exit despite no cars being around, whipping the car onto the exit ramp.
“What are you…” Steve starts, stopping when Eddie sits up again and pokes at his teeth with his tongue, wincing as he grips the edge of the seat.
“Steve? That’s your name?” He gasps, blinking rapidly, “Put the second bracelet on me, man.”
The car slams to a stop in front of the Waffle House and you toss the burner that had been in the cupholder to Steve.
“Call Hop. Tell him he needs to send someone else to drive him or pick me up. Now.”
When you step out of the car and the cool Autumn air does nothing to soothe your skin that’s slick with sweat, you slam the driver’s door. The minute it closes, it’s like a switch is flipped and when you look in the backseat, Eddie’s shoulders visibly relax at the same time yours do.
Steve’s mouth moves, and you can’t hear it, but you know he said exactly what you’re thinking.
What in the actual fuck just happened?
thank you for the original request for "ghosts" with eddie - I know it's not *technically* about ghosts and the creel house is just barely a part of this, but I promise Jason and Eddie/reader/Jason things will be a theme in the full story
#superbly subpar's writing#trick or treat freaks 💛#eddie munson#vampire!eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fic#stranger things fanfic
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Sunrise and Hangovers
Charles Xavier × reader
Summary: you're tipsy and in love. Charles is just... conflicted. Can you ever get in sync with the young professor that you can't get off your mind?
Word count: 3k+
Warnings: so much angst, fluffy, alcohol mentions, some kiss-kiss
Author's note: I love this man so much. Also tell me what you guys thing. I'm back to writing after so long, the self doubt is going crazy crazy <3 posted this after 3 days of over thinking it wow
Also this fic is First Class era based but but I just loved this gif so much I had to indulge myself T_T
When the dark door to his study lands smack against your face, you finally open your eyes clearly and take in where you're stood. Your tequilla-addled brain loved working over time, guiding your feet with absolutely no abandon to the front of Charles's sanctum.
There's a glass still in your hand and your eyes seem to attract it over to you, tongue taking a couple of tries before the straw is in your mouth and the pungent fluid flows down your throat. Liquid courage or not, you were about to knock.
Your fingers stretch out to the wood before you, the crease in your brow deepening when the door swings open without any action from your person. You're still looking at your fist, confused, suspicious of finding a new mutant ability to unlock doors without touching them. And then there's him, arms crossed across his chest, his gaze following you, evidently amused.
"Did I just do that?", you mumble, your confusion dissolving into absolute chaos when you see him properly. His hair is slightly tousled like he had just got out of bed, his sweater vest turned a little sideways, a little out of sorts. His face still wears that same grin, the same sparkle of his eyes. The same Charles you had come to love with every passing day.
"Create enough sub-concious noise to wake me up, you mean? Yes, that was definitely you." He pouts, playful and you can't help but take a step toward him. "Are you always calling my name when you're drunk or is this revenge for all the hours of training?" His hands slide into his pockets, a lazy yawn on his lips as he leans against the doorframe. You know his eyes haven't left you since he walked out, and instead of the usual shyness, right now you feel something warm and fuzzy inside you.
Maybe it's the haze everywhere around you, a muddle to your step, the coursing adrenaline through your veins and yet in the midst of it all, your affection for him constricts in your chest, tighter than ever.
His eyebrow raises, almost comically at your silence, the seriousness in his gaze juxtaposed to the ease of his posture.
"Sorry for waking you." You're not sorry. Not even a little. Not when this is the first time you've seen him like this. His guard down. His voice a low murmur, doused in sleep. You take another step towards him but this time he takes a step back. The door opens wider and you realise he's inviting you in.
To his study.
Your eyes snap back to his. It's one of those moments where you know even pinching yourself won't make you believe it's real. The shock shows on your face, you're aware and he tilts his head in response, a challenge to pose the question fighting it's way to your tongue. You don't. Instead, you step closer still.
His study feels like a distant reality anyway, forgotten, ignored, your body swaying towards the warmth emanating from him. It threatens to shatter you, that feeling of being so close. Of wanting to touch him. The material of his vest against your fingers, the collar of his shirt against your neck, his cheek against your cheek. His tongue in your mouth.
You know you shouldn't, you know it's stupid. You know he's your professor and he'll never feel the way you do. And he'd never look you in the eye again. And you'd never get to be on his arm at a party. Or by his side during one of his lectures.
But right now. In the low burn of his table lamp, your fingers can't help but reach forward, brush lightly against his jaw. His eyes follow everything, from the minute you move, right to the moment of electric contact, skin to skin. You feel him tense up. His gaze solidifies, sets on you.
You go on still, running a finger along his temple, caress his cheek and then, his eyes fall shut. A soft sigh gets caught somewhere in his throat but he shows no effort to make anything of it. His face leans into your hand, brushing back against your thumb as you glide it along the apple of his cheek.
He whispers your name, the syllables warped by the interruption of your fingers on his lips, tracing their outline, memorizing it. You might forget the night, the way you landed up here, everything you said. But the feel of his lips, his nose, his jaw, all of him. It was etched too deep to be lost in your memories.
"Charles.", you mumble. You don't know why you say it. His name feels like a poem on your tongue, the words you intend to say all swallowed up in that single utterance. Your slow approach now finds you inches from his face, your chests nearly touching, your breaths ragged, loud.
Up close, you can see his pupils are dilated, blown wide, his mouth hanging open halfway since your thumb ran along its edge. There's a hesitation in his gaze, though, and before it can translate to speech, you push yourself up on your toes, lips meeting his with a soft moan you can't hold back.
His response is almost immediate, his arms wrapping around your waist, head leaning in farther so he can give you what you want. You gasp into his mouth, his tongue swiping at yours, your fingers instinctively finding home in the soft, lush locks of hair at his neck.
He's the first to pull away, a little too soon for your liking, disengaging your mouths so he can rest his forehead against yours. The smile on his lips pushes against your cheek and you can't help but smile back.
The alcohol did well at holding back the usual questions. The "what now?", the "does he really like me?" All the bullshit that you'd let yourself think about tomorrow morning.
For now you can feel his fingers pressed into your back, the warmth of his breath brushing your skin, the gentle caress of his nose against yours as he moves back to look at you. Right now, this is all you needed.
"What was that for?" He sounds stern. Much like the professor you were used to being around. But his hands are still clasped behind you and his smile is radiant.
"That was for all the weeks I've thought about doing this before. And then not done it anyway.", you smile. "And this is because I want to do it again." You lean back in to quench the need to have his lips on yours again. But this time he leans away. The disappointment, the dread are instant, spurting up in the back of your mind.
But his fingers reach up to brush your frown from your face. He takes a step away, a hand offered to you which you confusedly take in yours.
"You just sound like you're really, really drunk, love." He shakes his head, laughing to himself as he leads you out of the study to the room next door. The chill in the air is grounding, and you wonder if it's just his warmth you already miss.
"And drunk is not the best mood to be doing any of this in.", he continues, gesturing vaguely to the air between you and him. Your heart is sinking still, inspite of his words and so you wordlessly follow him to the bed before you, seating yourself on the edge.
He kneels between your legs, easing your heels slowly off your feet. You feel the gentle brush of his palm as he runs his hand along your calf, a rush of goosebumps blooming on your skin. He's still only millimeters away from you, close enough to touch lips and yet so much more distant than he was just minutes ago.
"Don't want you feeling stupid after sunrise.", he smirks. His eyes find yours again, and there's a little underlying drift of restraint, of light pessimism that you catch for the first time.
"I'm not sure the sunrise would change anything." Your whisper is almost too low to be audible. And yet you know he's heard it. He sighs heavily, sitting back on his heels.
"I'm sure the hangover would."
His hand finds a stray lock of hair on your face, pushing it behind your ear and then staying right there with it. His forehead leans against yours again, his brows scrunched together like he's fighting something inside himself.
He pushes infinitesimally closer, his nose brushes your cheek and your breath hitches. Your fingers dig into the mattress, your nerves all charged up as you remind yourself this might just be a dream. Might be one of those wisps of the night where he's yours and you're his and there's not an inch of space between you two.
His fingers slide over the back of your neck, tugging at the hair a little, making you moan softly in the back of your throat. "Okay, just this once.", he mumbles, and before his words can click, his lips are on yours. Warm, insistent, almost desperate, his mouth moves languidly against yours in a way that has you melting in his arms. He runs his tongue along your lip, raising himself off his heels so he can press your torsos together, your chests rising and falling in sync.
The heat of his body, the smell of soap and salt on his skin, the light taste of tea on his tongue, everything about him swallows you whole and soon you're drowning, drowning into the vortex that is this man.
Your hands snap into action moments later, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt, your mouth opening under his to let his tongue in. He moans when you pull the hair at his neck, a little harder than you intended, and then he's shifting away again, like he's shot back to reality.
He blinks and then locks his gaze to yours, watching. You stay right there for a long, unending moment, your lip caught in your teeth, his eyes flitting across your face as he catches his breath. And the moment is shattered, fallen in pieces around you.
He leans back on his feet, gently pulling his hands out of yours, the whiplash of this sudden change leaving you stranded. Lost.
His brow creases again, only to splay out into a simple smile in seconds but it doesn't reach his eyes this time. He's reserved now. On guard.
With a short clearing of his throat, he picks your heels off the floor next to him, transferring them to the foot of the bed. "Get some sleep, love.", he says, his words more advisory than affectionate.
You look at the bed, it's empty face staring back at you as cold as the chill settling within your chest. "There's place for two here.", you offer lamely.
But he's already at the door, one hand on the knob. He turns back one last time, something pained in his eyes. "No, I'll have to get back to that thesis.", he smiles. "But you get some rest and we'll talk tomorrow."
He closes his eyes, exhaling forcefully before excusing himself and with a click the door shuts, leaving you alone.
And your heart sinks again.
________
The morning light casts shadows on the walls, the dance of leaves and curtain fabric mesmerizing against the cream of the wallpaper. The first thing you notice when you open your eyes though, is the pressing ache in your temple.
You squeeze your eyes shut and the drinking, the victory party, Raven pouring shots down your throat - it all comes back like a zap.
You groan, trying very, very slowly to shift upright in bed but that course of movement is impeded by an iron clasp around your waist.
Your attention falls to the man asleep next to you, his expression serene as soft breaths whistle out of his lips.
And then you freeze. The rest of the night comes crashing back, the reality of it all settling in like an uncomfortable feeling in your gut. You turn back to look at him, the morning sunshine lighting his face up, ethereal. Your chest hurts a little more, already.
You hold his hand in yours, trying your best to move it off from your waist but his grasp only becomes tighter. He stirs against you, pulling you closer, a soft "hmm" hummed in disapproval. You groan in frustration, the feeling of him too welcoming but the coldness of last night left like a bad taste in your mouth. You press your fingers into your eyes but it does nothing to the growing throb in your forehead.
"Headache?", he mumbles groggily, shooting up onto his elbow to fumble around in his bedside drawer. Before you can even form the words, the pills are out in his hand, a bottle of water in the other.
You take them quietly, downing the meds with silent relief while he leans back into bed. You lie down again not sure what to do with the unresolved moments you've shared a few hours ago. But you decide to let him take the lead. You suppress the headache. And wait.
"Before you ask, I only came here to take a nap.", his hands shoot up in defense as if the sheer idea of waking up next to him must sound like a night mare. You huff, waiting for him to address the obvious.
"We did kiss.", he mumbles. You turn on your side, wanting to take in the slight blush on his cheeks, the stutter in his words as if even thinking about it took him back to your lips on his. "And I'm sorry I didn't stop it. I know you were drunk out of your mind and I should have been the one t-"
"Charles.", you interrupt, your brow furrowed in confusion. But he goes on anyway, the words tumbling out of his mouth like he can't stop them now
"No, because I'm your professor and I shouldn't ever take advantage of you like that-"
"Charles-"
"I hope you can forgive me. It was stupid, stupid, really stupid on my part but maybe I just thought I could kiss you for just one second and I-"
"Charles!", you finally get his attention, his eyes wide, his mouth still parted as if the syllables had evaporated on his tongue the moment he heard your tone.
"Breathe." You're unable to keep the smile from your lips, your fingers threading through the small locks hanging on his neck as he turns to face you as well.
"Yes. Uh, yes. I'm breathing.", he exhales, something resembling a laugh. "But I do mean it. I'm sorry."
"I'm not.", you murmur, your cheeks painted with a crimson similar to his. You wheedle yourself a little closer, breathing the same air in the ever closing gap between your bodies. The doubt, the apprehension is all evident in the look he gives you, eyes searching for the humor in your words. Searching for that sliver of honesty he hoped to find.
"You're... You're not?" His fingers brush the inside of your wrist, holding your hand to his face.
"I like you, Charles. And not in a high-school-crush-on-the-hot-professor way." Your eyes find his again and you realise he's leaning towards you as well. His eyes are on your lips, your heart thudding as his tongue darts out to swipe against his lower lip.
He drags his gaze slowly back to yours and you see that darkness in his eyes, the focus, the raw intensity. Your breath hitches but you force yourself to go on.
"I like you because you're smart. And you're kind. You're selfless. And you make us all feel special without even trying. You made me want to be a part of this cruel, idiotic world, Charles."
You bite your lip in the silence that follows, the urgency of the confession dissipating, not sure how to stop the dying embarrassment about to take your over.
He let's his thumb brush over your chin then, pulling you closer. There's that grin of his again, the cheeky school boy grin that makes you want to kiss his mouth. "So I am the hot professor, huh?", he smirks half way through his words, his breath hot against your lips.
You roll your eyes, hands curling into his shirt collar to pull him flush against you. "Kiss me and we'll find out if that's true."
His lips are on yours before you can finish your line, his smile wide against your own. He's confident now, probing, his tongue sliding against yours like he's known the way these moments would play out, known the way he wanted to make you feel. Known what he wanted if you ever let him in.
His hands slide down your body, pressing you closer with the small of your back, the laughs and grins melting down into soft moans. You run a hand through his hair, the other twisting itself tighter into his vest.
He's breathless when he pulls away, his chest heaving against your own, the sunlight bathing him, making him look annoyingly prettier than always. He runs a finger down your forehead, tapping your nose lightly as he leans in for another peck.
"That hot enough for you, my love?", he murmurs against your lips, your heart still thudding at the endearment, his tongue darting out to run against your mouth.
"No, I think I'm gonna need another try. Just to make sure, you know." You brush your nose against his. He smiles again and it warms your heart to know you were even slightly the cause of his happiness.
"I did always appreciate you attention to detail, love."
#charles xavier#charles xavier smut#charles xavier fluff#charles xavier × reader#professor x#x men#x men × reader#charles xavier headcanons#young charles xavier#james mcavoy#xmfc#xmcu#james mcavoy smut#james mcavoy fluff#james mcavoy × reader#i love this man with all my heart#help#already writing cherik fluff as i post this#cherik#my beloved#marvel fluff#marvel × reader#marvel
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‹ chapter 03 › OUR NAMES
─── JUST Y☆UR ATTENTI☆N ⋆ 。 ° ✩
WARNINGS── wholesome yet again encounter, staring, nothing serious.
WC── 2,201 words.
── JYA main list | previous | next
days had passed, and minji couldn't get you out of her mind. schoolwork, exam, club activities— she had enough on her plate to keep everyone busy, yet her thoughts returned to that moment in the library when she first saw you.
bathed in that warm afternoon light by the window, dust particles drifting lazily around you like tiny sparks. it was an image that has taken root in her mind, one she couldn't shake, no matter how much she tried to push it away.
she caught herself replaying that scene more times than she could count.
at first, she tried to convince herself that it was just curiosity— simple intrigue, nothing more. but as her mind wandered over these moments, she found herself lingering in your expression, the way you looked so absorbed, distant but at peace in your own world.
she realized, somewhat flustered, that it wasn't just about knowing your name— there was something about you, something she has drawn to, even if she couldn't fully understand why.
"maybe it's just a crush," she told herself in bed one night, staring at the ceiling with her cheeks heating up.
"just a passing thing... i mean, it's not like i really know her! it's probably just-" she paused momentarily.
"...i don't know, attraction...?" she whispered.
she covered her face with her hands, groaning quietly. this is so ridiculous, she thought, but somehow, admitting this to herself only made her more determined to learn your name.
she resolved that tomorrow, no matter what, she'd ask someone. she has to, or else this won't end.
─────
the next day, minji moved through her classes with renewed purpose, but when lunchtime came around, she decided against asking her friends, hanni and danielle, for help.
it wasn't that she didn't trust them— she just didn't want to bother them with something that seemed so insignificant. besides, knowing hanni, she'd probably tease her about it relentlessly.
no, this was something she wanted to handle alone.
she went to the student council office after school, where she spotted seojin, one of the council members she knew. she was leafing through a pile of folders, so she approached him cautiously, trying to seem casual.
"hey, seojin," she calls out, keeping her tone light. "do you happen to know the full name of the girl who's always in the library? i think her last name is jeon."
seojin looked up, eyebrows raised in surprise. "oh, minji! yeah, i know her— her name is jeon y/n. she's quiet, always seems to keep to herself."
minji felt a strange flutter in her chest at hearing your name for the first time.
"jeon y/n.." she repeated softly, tasting the sound of it. it felt... right, somehow, like it belonged to you perfectly. "thanks, seojin. that's all i need."
"no problem," he replied, giving her a knowing smile as she walked away.
throughout the rest of her classes, your name echoed in her mind— jeon y/n. simple, yet it seemed to carry a certain weight, and minji found herself both relieved and oddly thrilled to finally know it, but along with that relief was a strange impatience.
an impulse to see you, to hear your unknown voice, maybe even catch a glimpse of that quiet expression you wore in the library. it was a desire that felt out of place, yet she couldn't ignore it.
─────
as soon as the final bell rang, minji gathered her things and made her way to the library. her pace quickened as she neared the familiar doors, though she couldn't quite explain why she was in such a hurry.
the library was quiet, as always, nearly empty save for a few students at scattered tables, but then she saw you.
you were on the floor by the window, tucked into your usual corner, your head resting against the table's edge. an open book lay across your lap, and you were fast asleep, your features softened and relaxed in a way she hadn't seen before.
a pang of something unfamiliar tugged at minji's heart as she watched you.
you looked so vulnerable, so unguarded, and something about it stirred a gentle protectiveness in her. she wondered what had driven you to isolate yourself like this— what kind of hurt or hardship might have shaped you into someone who found comfort in solitude.
she could almost relate to that feeling, the urge to hide away from the world, to keep yourself safe by keeping your distance.
feeling a quiet empathy, she moved closer, choosing to sit on the floor across from you but at a safe distance. she leaned her back against the wall, her gaze resting on you, her eyes soft with unspoken understanding.
she didn't want to disturb you; she only wanted to be near, to share this quiet space with you, even if you were completely unaware of her presence.
minji let her thoughts drift, the silence around her mingling with the steady rhythm of your breathing. she wasn't sure how long she stayed there, simply watching you, feeling an odd sense of peace.
your name whispered through her mind, lingering like a gentle choir.
slowly, her own eyelids grew heavy, the weight of the day catching up to her. the library was so warm and quiet, and in that stillness, she felt a rare sense of calm, as if sitting here with you brought her in comfort she hadn't realized she'd been missing.
and with one last thought of your name, minji drifted into sleep, resting in the quiet company of someone who understood the solace of solitude.
─────
as minji's eyes fluttered open, the soft light of the library greeted her, casting a warm glow over everything. she blinked, adjusting to the dimming light, when suddenly she noticed... you.
you were sitting right in front of her, between her legs, your face mere inches away.
she jolted slightly, her cheeks heating up in surprise as she took in the sight of you up close— your expression blank, yet there was a quiet curiosity in your eyes, almost like a child observing something new.
her heart quickened, caught off guard not just by your closeness but by the calm, inquisitive look you gave her.
"oh—uh... hi," minji managed, her voice coming out a little unsteady. she felt slightly dizzy, still waking up, but the sight of you looking at her like this seemed to ground her.
"i... i didn't realize you'd be... here." she stammered, feeling an odd mix of embarrassment and amazement.byou tilted your head, still watching her with that steady gaze, and for a moment she didn't know what to say.
finally, she let out a sheepish laugh, scratching the back of her neck. "i.. i must've fallen asleep here," she admitted, her cheeks burning. "sorry if.. i was in your way. i didn't mean to stare while you were asleep."
a soft, small chuckle escaped your lips. "you didn't bother me." you said, your voice quiet but warm, a sound that resonated with a soft, calming tone.
it was everything minji had imagined— your voice was beautiful, soothing, like a gentle melody that filled the silence between you two.
"it's been a while since anyone's stayed here," you added, your voice barely above a whisper, but there was a certain weight to your words, like they held a piece of something you weren't saying outright. minji couldn't help but feel more drawn in, her awe growing as she took in a quiet grace with which you spoke.
she couldn't stop herself from blushing deeper, flustered yet unable to look away.
"i.. really didn't mean to intrude," she mumbled, feeling oddly shy as she glanced down, catching sight of her skirt riding up slightly due to how she'd parted her legs. quickly, she adjusted, hoping you hadn't noticed.
but you didn't seem to care or even mind. instead, you simply looked at her, calm and unbothered. then, with a gentle smile that softened your expression, you shifted closer, closing the gap just a little more, as though inviting her further into this shared silence.
minji's heart thudded, feeling both nervous and thrilled by your warm gaze. she tried to compose herself, feeling her hands sweating and fidgeting in her lap.
"s-so... um, what.. what's your name?" she asked softly, even though she knew, yet she wanted to hear it from you, almost afraid to break the delicate atmosphere between you.
after a moment, you finally spoke. "jeon y/n." you said, your voice carrying a sense of openness, a calm invitation. there was no smile on your face now, but your eyes were gentle, almost as if you were quietly welcoming her into this new chapter of whatever might unfold between you two.
"jeon.. y/n.." minji echoed, letting your name roll off her tongue, savoring the sound of it.
it felt so surreal, like finally unlocking a mystery that had been hidden just out of reach. her eyes softened, a small, shy smile playing on her lips as she looked back at you. "i.. i'm kim minji."
you nodded, acknowledging her introduction, and in that moment, something seemed to shift between you— something quiet but significant, as though you'd both taken a small step forward.
for a while, neither of you said anything, letting the silence speak for itself.
minji couldn't believe how much had changed in such a short span, how this simple encounter had bloomed into something that felt like the beginning of something special.
your name felt like a blessing.
TAGLIST── @iamtired10 @saysirhc @sixflame438 @gigislovergirl @trovao-penguins @flyingcigarettes @kmjs-girl @strangercat @secretcessy @gtfoiydlyj
#newjeans#뉴진스#newjeans minji#kim minji x reader#series#minji x reader#kim minji#series - Just Your Attention !!!
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As fucking ever, this discourse relies on lying about constantly lying about trans men to sustain itself.
In a year it's going to lose all meaning. A word on a death spiral to meaning fucking nothing.
(vent cont) I've been physically steered towards women's restrooms, I had one incident in a men's restroom I don't even want to describe because of how scary it was, even at queer events I get misgendered because I don't pass at all, I was the first trans man most of my doctors had ever seen. I'm tired. I'm exhausted. And then I go online to hear my own community ranting and raving about how I just need to shut up because I have it so good. I feel like I'm not allowed to exist.
I love you and you're allowed to exist, anon. <3 You're not a bad person and your experiences are what they are. I care about you.
Most of these people are hardcore tankies so it's not surprising that they think anything less than writing jerk off poetry about how heroic Hamas is counts as "Zionism."
Fucking typical.
Every single day another TRF uses "TME" as a synonym for AFAB trans.
It sure is!
It'd be great if someone could. We'll never get past shit if we can't get past the ableism and classism leftist spaces regularly devolve into.
It's a complete refusal to actually engage with anyone. Just fully making up enemies in one's head.
Somehow, the truscum returned.
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|You will always be mine ~ Lee Minho series|
PART 12
Paring: Minho x Y/N
Genre: smut, angst, university au
Word count: 3302
Warnings: sex, 18+, Minho is a psycho, dom!Minho, sub!reader, abuse, slight BDSM, kidnapping, violence, age gap, Minho is an university professor, Y/N can be hurt physically (and mentally too I guess).
Synopsis: Who knew that accidental fuck in the club bathroom with a handsome man will bring you to a lot of unexpected events.
Author's note: I kept this series for a really long time not sure if I want to post it or not, but I decided to do it anyway, so I hope you'll like it.
——————————
Several days have passed since the Minho incident. You have almost forgotten about his behavior, or at least pushed thoughts about it to the farthest corner of your mind. After a week's absence, you returned to the university, and your life seemed to go on.
Admittedly, you were still dating Lee Minho, a lecturer who had “returned” to being THE Minho you had met in the beginning. You felt somewhat happy, but at the same time internally you felt fear. You feared that if you once again defied the man, you might face punishment. You didn't want to make him angry, because you knew what this could entail. Therefore, you did everything he told you to do - and his requests got weirder and weirder each time.
“...I think it's high time I met your parents Y/N...” The man spoke up, breaking the silence in the car. You looked at him puzzled.
“'Why? My parents are busy, Minho.”
“Don't you think that as your boyfriend I should get to know them? Besides... You know, we could then test your stamina with the new toy I bought you.” He smiled in a perverse way.
“You've got to be kidding me!” You exclaimed in surprise. “There's no option Minho, I'm not going to agree to something like that. You're crossing the line.”
“Don't exaggerate Y/N... just kidding.” He muttered, but was inconsolable. “But your parents I would actually like to meet.”
“What is the point? My parents won't accept that I'm with a guy who's fifteen years older than me anyway.”
“You don't want me to meet them because you're ashamed, right?” He started with a pouty face.
“What? No Minho, I'm not ashamed of you.” You denied.
“Great, then invite them to dinner on the weekend.” He suggested, smiling at you.
“No... I won't invite them.”
“No? What did I tell you about disobedience?” He glanced at you, clearly displeased.
“Minho, it's non-negotiable, I apologize to you, but this time I'm not going to comply with your request.” You said with seriousness.
“We will return to this conversation.” The man replied coolly. There was silence in the car. Why did he want to meet your parents? Wasn't what was between the two of you enough for him? Your parents, although they approved of your every choice, would not have been happy with their child dating a man fifteen years older than her. And you knew it perfectly well.
Minho stopped the car in the parking lot in front of his apartment. Since the last time you overheard his conversation, he demanded that you move in with him permanently. You had no choice but to agree to move. You were afraid that if you didn't agree to the man's terms, he would treat you the same way he treated Rheena and Lisa. After the last situation, you were sure that he was behind their deaths.
You began to form a “formal” relationship. You went on dates to the movies, restaurants, the park. Of course, you were careful, you didn't want anyone to notice you, because it could end unpleasantly, first of all for this person.
And you knew it. That's why you started to be even more careful. You moved a little away from your friends. You only saw Jeno at the university, as well as Jungwoo. Your other friends started going out without you. You watched on social media how people around you, your age, were having a great time without you. How they go to parties and spend their time the way you should spend it too - having fun.
More than once you have wondered about the life you have begun to lead. Why did you let yourself get sucked into this “sick” arrangement with a lecturer and let the best years of your youth slip away? You became addicted to a man you weren't even sure you loved. But he was already sure - he loved you. You knew you couldn't walk away from him like that, especially after his confession. That's why you continued to play the game, to pull what was between you.
“Hello, Earth to Y/N!” Minho waved his hand in front of your eyes. “Everything ok?”
“Hm? Yes, yes... I was just thinking.” You replied after a while, sending him a gentle smile. “Did you say something?”
“Yes Y/N, I was... I asked if you were hungry, I will be making dinner.”
“Dinner? I'd love to eat something... what are you going to prepare?”
“I'm going to make chicken.” He winked at you. “I know you love it.”
“Okay, I'll get my stuff together...” You replied and went to the living room, where your notes and laptop were waiting for you.
The midterm was approaching. You spent more and more time studying. You neglected Minho in the process, but this is, after all, normal and the man was aware of this, right? In the end, he let you study as much as you needed, even though he knew that you would get only A's in his subject anyway. You didn't even have to try too hard. You might as well not even have come in for a final exam.
While making dinner in the kitchen, he watched you carefully. Every move you made made him smile. He saw you bending over the task, wrinkling your nose gently, trying to understand what it was about. To Minho, you looked adorable. He loved to watch you. It was a form of entertainment for him, and he appreciated every such moment.
The apartment was relatively quiet. You were engrossed in your notes and repetitions, and Minho was making dinner. Would your lives always be like this again? Neither of you could answer that question. The man began to imagine your life together in the future, when suddenly his phone rang. He answered immediately.
“Hi Han, what's up?...Mhm, well...I'll drop by in about an hour. No, I can't go any faster. OK, I'll try.”
The man hung up. You looked at him with a questioning gaze. You were curious what it was about.
“Han called.” He informed you. “He asked me to go and help him with something... Can you manage on your own in my absence?”
“Will you be gone for a long time? Friday is today and there may be traffic jams...”
“Don't worry, kitten. I don't know how long it will take me to help Han, but I'm sure you'll be asleep when I get back.” He said and walked over to you. “I'll be back soon.” He placed a kiss on your forehead and went to change his clothes, then left the apartment.
You sighed quietly. Minho left more and more often as Han called him. You hadn't met his friend yet, but you knew that this whole Han thing was just as weird as your lecturer. You just hoped they didn't kill anyone else. The realization that another woman might have lost her life, in a very immoral way, just because she ran into Minho, did not give you peace of mind.
You took several deep breaths. You couldn't concentrate on your notes anymore. Moreover, you were terribly bored, and you knew that waiting for Minho didn't make any sense at all. You knew the man wouldn't be back before five in the morning. His outings with Han always took that long. You glanced at your phone. Your friends were once again having a great time at the club. You decided it was high time to finally go out to people. So you texted Jeno.
[You]
Hi Jeno! Where are you guys? Can I join you?
You didn't expect the boy to text you back. After all, you haven't spoken to each other much lately. You felt that Jeno might continue to be offended at you, but he texted back nonetheless. You smiled broadly at the phone.
THE MANIAC Club. I will be waiting for you in front of the entrance, you have 30 min.
You smiled broadly. It had been a long time since you had been to a club, and THE MANIAC was your favorite place. You were glad that Jeno hadn't cancelled your relationship yet and you could join him and his cousin.
You showered and put on makeup at an express pace. You felt exquisite, getting ready for the party. You left your hair loose and slipped a short blue strapless dress over your body. On your feet you put silver stiletto sandals. You accessorized with a silver handbag, into which you packed your phone and keys, and left Minho's apartment.
You were in the mood for the party. All the way to the club you were smiling broadly. You missed the dancing and the craziness, but you also missed your friends, and you knew that such an outing would do you good. You couldn't wait for the madness on the dance floor. It had been so long since you had been to a party....
“Y/N!” You heard your friend's familiar voice when you appeared in front of the club. Jeno immediately greeted you with a smile and hugged you. “It's been so long since we had fun together... What happened?”
“Nothing happened Jeno... I just didn't have time...” You returned the hug.
“You didn't have time, or did the professor not allow you?” The boy asked with a wince, but inwardly he was very worried.
“What, no, no... I was really busy.” You got a little mixed up. “ Anyway, it doesn't matter now, let's go inside, I want to dance!”
“Sure... But if something happens, speak up... Ladies ahead, Woo is probably already at the bar.”
You entered the club, and immediately smelled the distinctive aroma that wafted through THE MANIAC - cinnamon and vanilla. You smiled broadly, you loved the place. For the first time in a long time you were happy.
You started to party. Jeno was watching over you, while you seemed to release all the brakes. You let yourself be carried away by the fun, the music, the dancing and the drinks that the bartender and Woo's new boyfriend Lucas prepared for you every now and then.
You lost track of the time. The party with the guys lasted until the early hours of the morning. You had fun until the very end. You didn't care about the hour, as well as the fact that your boyfriend, Lee Minho, left you a mass of missed calls and messages. In a craze of fun, you completely forgot about the whole world and all the problems that had surrounded you up to that point.
_________
While you were partying at the club Minho quickly dealt with the task Han had assigned him and returned home. When he did not find you in the apartment, panic began to overtake him. He checked every room in the apartment, even the smallest, but you were nowhere to be found. He decided to call you, but as luck would have it, you probably had your phone turned off. Panic began to grow in him more and more. Had you left him? Did you decide to run away from him? Fears began to overwhelm him, he could not let you leave him. He knew he would do anything for you.
He quickly remembered the tracking app he had installed for you some time ago. You didn't even know about it because the app was very well hidden on your phone. He quickly checked your location on his device. Gotcha, kitten, He thought.
Now that he knew you were at the club and had broken his ban he was overwhelmed with anger. He didn't like the fact that HIS girlfriend was partying in the company of other men. Of course, he was aware that you could break the ban. Ha! He even deep down desired it. He wanted you to show disobedience so that he could punish you. He loved to punish you... And he did it more and more often.
But now, the realization that you did not comply with his requests was unbearable. In quick succession, he found himself in his car and headed out in front of the club. He didn't have a long way to go, especially by car. He parked the car on the opposite street and watched the entrance to the club. He noticed you walking out smiling inside accompanied by your friend, Jeno.
Minho was overcome with jealousy. From the very beginning, he had not tolerated Jeno. He felt some competition in him, even though he knew that you were not interested in him. Or at least you hid it very well. However, he decided not to act too hastily. I'll give her time, I’ll let her play... As he thought, so he did. He waited outside the club until you left. He didn't expect you to spend so much time there. Once again you surprised him.
He smiled slightly to himself, all the while watching the exit. The party had already ended, and drunk people began to roll out of the club. Some were still in a club mood, while others seemed fed up with all the hustle and bustle.
Minho watched closely. Finally, he spotted YOU. You were dressed in a blue strapless dress that, in Minho's eyes, was far too short and too defiant. Your stilettos dangled from your hand - they must have hurt your feet a lot. Minho wasn't even surprised.
He knew you liked to party, and your moves on the dance floor could be envied by many dancers. Your hair was gently tousled, and a wide smile was painted on your lips, highlighted with red lipstick, showing rows of white teeth. At the same time, the whole posture of your body indicated that you must have drunk a considerable amount of alcohol. He didn't like it.
He sighed heavily. Even though he was angry at you, he had to admit that you looked very happy. Your whole appearance, the way you presented yourself, excited him to the limit. Oh kitten, what are you doing to me, He thought, for a moment imagining you writhing with pleasure under him, only to deny you an orgasm a moment later.
But life is not about imagination. He knew that if he allowed you to go with Jeno now, which you were obviously counting on, he could lose you. He got out of the car and walked through the deserted street. He stopped a few meters behind you. You burst out laughing. Jeno apparently cracked a joke.
Minho quickly looked at the boy before he spoke. Jeno definitely didn't have as much alcohol in him as you did. And he definitely didn't look at you JUST as a friend. And Minho didn't like that very much.
"Ahem!" He cleared his throat, drawing your and the boy's attention to himself.
"Minho!" You exclaimed with a smile and threw yourself around his neck. You hung on him, and the strong smell of alcohol could be felt from your lips. "What are you doing here?"
"I came for you, kitten. And what are you doing here?" The man spoke, pushing you away slightly. Minho hated the smell of alcohol.
"I'm having fun!" You smiled. You looked quite cute and innocent when you were drunk. "Do you want to join?"
"I guess I'll say no." He spoke to you and glanced at Jeno, who was watching you closely. "Come on Y/N, time to go home."
"What? But I don't want to!" You stamped your foot and made a dissatisfied face. "I want to go dancing!"
“The party's over long ago, and so is my patience, kitten... You broke our agreement, you know how this ends.”
“B-but…” Your mood changed a hundred and eighty degrees. “I don't want a punishment…” You looked at him with a pouty face.
“I don't give a damn what you want.” Minho growled, a bit harsher than he planned. He shouldn't be taking it out on you when you're drunk. It didn't make any sense, and he knew it perfectly well. You wouldn't understand anyway until you were fully sober.
“Wait, what punishment?” Jeno butted in, clearly concerned about your entire exchange.
“He'll punish me for disobedience.” You complained, moving closer to Jeno. “Jeno… I don't want punishment.” You groaned. The boy clenched his jaw and looked at Minho with a menacing expression on his face.
“What kind of punishment is she talking about? What do you want to do to her?” He began to ask, clearly nervous.
“None of your business, brat.” Minho growled. “Y/N, come on, let's go home.”
“No, she's not going anywhere with you.” Jeno hissed, hiding you behind his back. “I have no idea what you want to do to her, psycho, but I won't let you.”
“I won't do anything to her, she's drunk and probably made something up.” Minho tried to brush him off.
“Why don't I believe you? If Y/N says she doesn't want something and is clearly afraid of you, then that's how it has to be.” Jeno didn't give up.
“You don't know anything. Stop interfering!” Minho started to raise his voice, clearly irritated.
“I know enough!” Jeno raised his voice as well.
“Y/N we’re going home.” Minho walked up to you and grabbed your wrist tightly, too tightly, pulling you along. You winced a bit. Minho’s grip was really strong. Seeing your reaction, Jeno didn’t think twice and threw himself at Minho with his fists.
The men started to fight. Their fight didn’t last long, because the club’s security guards, seeing the whole situation, stepped in to separate them. Minho had a cut lip and would definitely have bruises on his stomach, where he got hit the hardest.
Jeno, on the other hand, didn’t come out of the fight in any better shape. His right eye was already starting to swell, and his ribs on the left side were throbbing. He knew that when he woke up the next day, he wouldn’t be in the best shape.
The men looked at each other with hostility. You, on the other hand, stood to the side, watching the whole thing. You were scared, but you knew that if you didn't want their conflict to end in a fight again, you had to agree to go back to the apartment with Minho. You sighed quietly. The whole situation had practically sobered you up on the spot.
"Minho..." You spoke quietly. "Let's go home, please."
“Wise decision, kitten.” Minho praised you and offered you his hand. Hesitantly, slightly reluctantly, you took it and walked with him to the car. You turned back to Jeno with an apologetic expression on your face.
You got into the car and drove away with your boyfriend a moment later. You felt bad. You knew that the fight between Jeno and Minho had happened because of you. You felt stupid. You felt that in a way you had let your friend down. You just didn't know if the boy would ever be able to forgive you. You didn't look at Minho the whole way, nor did you say a word. You knew that now you were safe, but the next day wouldn't be pleasant.
Jeno, on the other hand, watched after the fight, shocked, as you decided to leave with Minho, whom you were clearly afraid of. He knew that you didn't feel safe in the company of a man, but he was aware that you wouldn't tell him the truth. He was worried about you. He wanted to help you at all costs. He made it his goal to do everything to make you feel safe. And that meant that he had to defeat Lee Minho in some way. He just didn't know how yet.
——————————
<- Part 11 | Part 13 ->
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