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space-mango-company · 8 months ago

Text

Stranger | Chapter 2

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (still not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon what canon

Word Count: 2k

A/N: So... this was posted prematurely a couple hours ago. This is the actual finished longer version. If you don't know what I'm talking about, thank god. Sorry this took so long, lmao

Just letting you guys know that my knowledge of the lore is purely based off of the movies and the Dune wiki rabbit hole I fell into right after watching part two. I also took a few liberties with the canon here.

I'm super open to constructive criticism, or any criticism at all (feel free to absolutely roast me). Like I mentioned, I've never written fanfic before so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

The evening of your first day in Giedi Prime was celebrated with a banquet where you were introduced to the most important people on the planet. You've heard many stories of the ruthlessness and brutality of the Harkonnens, hence surprised by the courtly welcome during the dinner. Although you did your best to politely ignore the Baron who floated at the head of the table being fed by servants.

You were sat beside his nephew who, despite your mother's education, has evaded your insight. You couldn't quite get a read on him.

Feyd-Rautha whispers to you amid the buzzing conversations of the banquet hall, "are you enjoying the food, little hawk?"

You shoot him a questioning look.

"I like your hairpin," he sneers.

You resist from reaching to touch the Atreides symbol affixed in your hair.

"We don't see such ornaments often here." He quietly laughs in his devilish way, only too amused with himself.

Ah, you realize. He means to torment you.

"Seems early for pet names," you say, picking at your plate, "we've only just met."

"Oh, and yet we are to be wed in less than a week's time," his raspy voice rings in your ear, "I should like to be familiar with my future wife, Lady Atreides."

The marriage pact had been signed when you were only a little girl. Inheriting your father's inclinations, you swore you would uphold your duty, undeterred by the gruesome and abhorrent stories about the Harkonnens—because you knew that centuries of conflict could end within a generation with this union. You were a willing bride.

And yet.

You give him a smile that, to those not privy to your conversation, would seem genuine, "You know nothing of me, na-Baron."

"I should like to learn," you doubt his sincerity but care not enough to discern it. He takes a smug bite of a forkful of meat, "perhaps tomorrow, you shall learn something of me."

The following morning Iassa helps you into another black gown, this time with a veil in anticipation of the black sun.

"Is it not dangerous for Feyd-Rautha to wager his life for a show?" you question.

"The na-Baron is a skilled fighter, my lady. He will emerge victorious," Iassa is straight-faced as she drapes the veil over you.

"Yes, I do not doubt it, but given he is the Baron's heir. Does it not seem a touch irresponsible to even risk it at all."

Not that you actually cared for his life, you just expected that the Harkonnens would be concerned with the preservation of their house regardless of their brutality. You recall your grandfather who got himself killed fighting bulls for sport.

"The na-Baron will be fighting war prisoners. They will be drugged beforehand. It is perfectly safe, my lady."

"Oh." You couldn't decide if you were disappointed or not, "I see."

Iassa seemed intent on dropping the subject, so you do.

You stand before a mirror and take a look at yourself. It is impossible not to be reminded of your mother. She was never one for vanity, but you like to think there was a part of her that always enjoyed the elegant dresses she and you 'had' to wear. You allow yourself a somber smile behind your veil.

"You look beautiful, my lady," Iassa curtsies.

"Thank you," you look at her bowed figure, gray robes made more dull by the stark black choker on her neck. You were sure she was at least 2 standard years younger than you are and it had only been a few months since you came of age. You wondered if she liked pretty dresses too.

Before you can ask her, there is a knock at your door.

The house steward, Jaromir, clears his throat when Iassa opens it for you, "The na-Baron requests your presence before he enters the arena."

Heavy doors open for you in one of the chambers beneath the arena. You are greeted by the sight of a half-dressed Feyd-Rautha being helped into his armor by a servant.

"Lady Atreides," he looks you up and down, "I hope you slept well."

You bow your head in acknowledgment.

"Your knives, master," a large man whom you assume to be the bladesmith presents Feyd-Rautha with two daggers.

The young Harkonnen takes one and caresses the blade with his fingers.

"I've come to wish the brave na-Baron well before his fight in the arena," you say in false earnestness.

He smiles at your inflation of his ego.

"Though I must say, I am relieved it is all for show. I would not like to see my groom wounded before we are wed."

"For show?" Feyd-Rautha tilts his head and you see his arrogant facade show the slightest crack.

"Yes, I've heard your opponents will be drugged will they not?" your voice dripping with innocence, "to ensure your safety, of course."

His grip on the dagger tightens, "and where did you hear this exactly?"

You sense the awkwardness and tension in the servants. The one who had helped don Feyd-Rautha's armor has quietly retreated to the far side of the chamber. There is a subtle tremble in the hands of one holding a plate of towels. You finally notice the three women piled upon a raised platform glaring at you.

"Just voices around the fortress," you shrug.

A deep breath recovers Feyd-Rautha's smug expression. "Call for the warden," he orders one of the guards by the door, "tell him to prepare new prisoners. Sober ones."

"My lord, you need not endanger yourself," you feign worry.

"Nonsense." The na-Baron walks closer to tower over you, "My lady bride deserves to see my true prowess."

He sees through your challenge, but you don't care. Seeing his self-satisfied smirk wiped from his face for even just a second was worth it.

"Besides," he turns away from you to inspect the second knife, "my darlings enjoy meat that's fought for its life."

The three women sneer at this and you see their sharp teeth as they hiss amongst themselves.

You've heard of Feyd-Rautha's concubines long before you arrived on Giedi Prime. Tales of their taste for human flesh were one of the things that tested your resolve in fulfilling the marriage pact. You didn't mind that the na-Baron would keep other women. It would result in less of his attentions on yourself, you figured. It was their perverse appetite that nauseated you.

A look of revulsion hides behind your veil which you sense they would be all too happy to rip to shreds.

"I will see you in the stands, little hawk," Feyd-Rautha whispers to you as he waves for a guard to escort you out.

You do your best to drown out the noise of what seemed to be a countless audience that came to see the na-Baron fight. You could understand now why they uphold such brutal traditions. The people are so excited for it.

On the other side of the arena, you sense Vladimir Harkonnen watching you from the Baron's Box that towered over the whole arena. The blazing sun only helps you avoid looking in his direction. You were sat at a viewing box, still for nobility and separated from the masses, but much lower and closer to the sands of the arena. Jaromir had told you that you were to 'give the na-Baron your favor'.

Before long, the master of ceremonies announces Feyd-Rautha's entrance in Giedi Prime Speech. They are celebrating his betrothal to you and the union of Harkonnen and Atreides, you translate in your head. You wonder if the people care for the politics of the Great Houses. They seemed no less excited to cheer at your name despite the centuries-old blood feud.

Massive doors open as the na-Baron walks into the arena. His arms outstretched holding his knives like an extension of his limbs. He riles up the crowd as he walks towards the Baron's Box and kneels to his uncle. He then rises and walks toward you, smirking under the stark light of the black sun.

You may not fear earning the Harkonnens' contempt, but you were the Duke of Caladan's daughter and you knew that the favor of the people was invaluable.

You stand and walk to the edge of the viewing box. The glowing smile you reveal as you lift your veil draws cheers from the crowd that rival what Feyd-Rautha received. You produce a pure white handkerchief from your dress pocket and make a show of kissing it and waving the cloth at the buzzing crowd. You throw it off the edge and it floats toward the na-Baron who had moved both daggers to one hand to catch it. He looks up at you with what you think could be the seeds of respect and tucks the cloth into the tight armband around his right bicep.

He turns back to the audience and raises his knives in a war cry. The crowd explodes in guttural cheers and applause. Feyd-Rautha takes his position in the middle of the arena as his first opponent is released into the white sands.

You've heard of the Harkonnen heir's aptitude in single combat. It's time to see if the stories were true or if it was just another part of their menacing facade.

You were handed a pair of spyglasses to observe with. The two fighters approach each other, the prisoner wielding a knife of his own. Feyd-Rautha holds a taunting stance. The prisoner was sober, you were sure, but even without the spyglasses, you could see he was weak. You surmised the Harkonnen cells weren't very hospitable. He attempts a swipe but the na-Baron parries with ease. Another and the na-Baron dodges. Zooming in, you could see Feyd-Rautha's twisted amusement. He was toying with the poor man—and the people loved it.

The crowds cheered at the clashing of metal, thundering when the na-Baron drew first blood by slashig his opponent's arm. It wasn't long before Feyd-Rautha's dagger had impaled the prisoner's heart. There was no pause before a second prisoner was brought out to meet a similar fate.

Feyd-Rautha stood unwounded, seething with exhilaration. He enjoyed this; the thrill of killing. He basked in the roar of the crowd. You had never ended a life before, but some deep part of you could almost understand how he felt in that moment.

A third prisoner enters the arena. He looked older than the first two, bearded and taller. He reminded you of Gurney Halleck, the Atreides Warmaster. This man certainly wasn't at his prime but you could tell he would not go down as easily as the first two.

The warrior holds his blade out in a firm fighting stance, refusing to make the first move. You notice picadors in black suits have entered the arena, circling the na-Baron and his opponent. Feyd-Rautha lunges at the prisoner and a quick series of parries from both sides occur. You see the finesse in the na-Baron's movement. He recognizes his opponent's skill and he is taking this one seriously. You were not sure what you expected of the Harkonnen's fighting style but Feyd-Rautha was vicious but precise. The crowd gasps when the prisoner disarms one of the na-Baron's knives. The warrior manages to get a grip on Feyd-Rautha's armed hand and aims to pierce the na-Baron's neck with his blade. The na-Baron struggled against his hold and the arid air was thick with anticipation.

You were unsure what outcome you desired as you stared through your spyglass. Perhaps this warrior kills your betrothed. What then? Would you really be able to go back to Caladan's windy cliffs again? Return to the arms of your mother as if it were all a bad dream? You wonder if when Feyd-Rautha becomes baron, and you his baroness, could you convince him to let you see your family.

The warrior's blade was dangerously close to your future husband's throat when one of the picadors lashes at the warrior. The na-Baron growls at the offending picador as the warrior is weakened. Feyd-Rautha pushes him off and allows him a moment to recover, taunting him to try again. Blades clash once more and after a sequence of quick ferocious movements, Feyd-Rautha's blade slashes the warrior's throat. Blood made black by the infrared of the sun splatters onto the na-Baron. He licks the darkness that landed on his lips. Heaving, he takes your bloodied handkerchief off his armband and raises it to you and the roaring crowd.

You did not even realize you were already standing, breathless at the sight.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore

#feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune #dune part two #baron harkonnen #baron vladimir harkonnen #house harkonnen #house atreides #giedi prime #austin butler #space-mango-company #fic: stranger

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shares-a-vest · 7 months ago

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Just a Shirt (Read on ao3)

wc: 1.9k | Rated: T | cw: Mild descriptions of Steve's s4 injuries (mostly the scar on his neck), Hospital mention, Brief mention of nightmares

Tags: Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Post s4 Fix-it (Everyone Lives), Hellfire, Fluff and Angst (Happy Ending), Love Confessions, Injury, Cuddling

Eddie makes Steve a customised Hellfire shirt, just for him. Based off this ficlet/headcanon. But the BIGGEST thank you goes to @tangerinesteve (formally babydollbaron) for their incredible tags below. They gave me the biggest and softest brainworms. I hope I did your wonderful ideas justice!

“Here-p,” Eddie mumbles, pushing a too-neatly folded shirt into Steve’s hands.

“Uh, thanks,” his boyfriend hums, quirking a brow in confusion.

Eddie shrugs the whole thing off for good measure because it’s just a shirt – that’s all it is.

... But not really.

Like, at all.

He looks away, avoiding Steve’s gaze. While their relationship isn’t too new for gifts, it might be too fresh for a t-shirt that screams, ‘You are part of me and I can see that you are in pain and I think I can fix it. Nay, I need to make you comfortable’.

Yeah… it’s perhaps a little too premature for something that says all that.

So Eddie looks at the floor, his beige sock blending into the similarly-coloured carpet that lines Steve’s bedroom. His foot really only looks like an actual foot and not a patch of carpet thanks to the hole in his sock that is currently exposing his pinky toe.

It’s just a shirt, he desperately reminds himself as he catches Steve unfurling it out of the corner of his eye.

It’s just a shirt.

A customised Hellfire shirt he made especially for Steve.

One that is two sizes too big, made of the softest cotton and led to an emptying of his wallet to obtain. A Hellfire shirt that has short sleeves and a loose, scooped neck Eddie fashioned himself after borrowing a sewing book from the library. A neckline he sewed on Mrs Pemberton’s machine after crossing the trailer park and answering a slew of questions from an all too inquisitive Max Mayfield.

It’s a Hellfire shirt in its logo only – despite what his friends might think. Or the fuss all his pea-brained lost little sheepie buddies kicked up along the way.

They have been a total nightmare these past few weeks, scheming and plotting and sabotaging like a little hoard of gremlins. But Eddie supposes he can really only blame himself.

He should have never said anything, never asked Gareth for the original master copy of the Hellfire logo he knows his best friend keeps filed away in secret on the rare occasions they let in new members. Or to get new t-shirts printed in instances of spilled beverage-based stain emergencies. But then Gareth of course squealed to Jeff, who teased Eddie mercilessly before blabbing to Freak, who, well… Freaked about the possibility of a jock joining Hellfire.

The shock. The horror! Oh, the humanity!

And then came what was nothing short of a campaign via Dustin, Mike and Will, all collectively working to not only prevent Eddie from something he wasn’t even going to do in the first place but to also create a drama so seismic that rumours got around the whole of Hawkins that one Eddie Munson would no longer be running his little ‘demonic’ social club.

Or at least that’s what Wayne said Ernie at the plant had told him that his son had said.

The only thing is, Eddie feels more than a little sorry for Lucas Sinclair, a kid now sulking around, utterly crestfallen that his favourite Laundry Basket Friend isn’t also secretly a full-blown nerd.

It’s just that Eddie wanted to give Steve a nice, soft, comfy shirt he had hoped he would look at just like he is right now.

Besides, Steve had admitted that he liked the Hellfire logo months back when they first started dating. Told Eddie it was, “So creative, man”, after expressing some mild disappointment that he hadn’t shown up for their first date wearing it.

He smiles at the memory, Steve’s eyes lighting up as soon as he hopped into the Beemer, far too eager to head off to Benny’s Diner that he hadn’t even bothered to let Steve chivalrously walk up to the front stoop of the new and improved Casa de Munson.

“Eddie…” Steve says, his voice just above a whisper and sounding just as soft as the too-important shirt in his grip.

“Don’t worry,” he snorts, “I’m not making you join or anything it’s just… You said you haven’t been sleeping well…”

He gestures with his hand, searching for the right words. Better words that won’t sound so monumental and weighted as Steve’s eyes trail right along the shirt’s scooped neckline.

The hem is probably a little flimsy, but hopefully, Steve won’t fucking claw at it like the old Tigers gym shirt he almost tore in two a few weeks back after bolting upright in a sweat after a nightmare. That is what did it – really set Eddie on his mission. Seeing Steve’s sniffles turn to tears and how he tried to hide them away, shrugging Eddie off before rushing to the ensuite bathroom.

He had come back a few minutes later, eyes red as he hugged his arms across himself, appearing small and frightened but acting cold as ice.

“Yeah…” Steve nods before mouthing what appears to be the word, “soft”, as he balls the fabric between his fingers.

“Hell, I know you haven’t been sleeping,” Eddie continues to ramble, “Just… tossing and turning. Also your… Y’know…”

He gestures to his own neck, referring to the still-reddened scar around Steve’s. One that Eddie knows leaves his throat scratchy and hoarse at the slightest provocation. A mark that nosey townspeople gawk at when Steve is at work, leaving him all embarrassed and well, not like Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington at all.

And Steve hadn’t even told Eddie about that part. Nope. He found out from Robin, who swung by the mechanic one afternoon, inconsolable about her best friend spending their shift at Family Video hidden away in Keith Anderson’s stinky loser palace of an office.

“Mhmm,” Steve nods, pursing his lips.

Eddie knows he isn’t mad – it’s just something his boyfriend doesn’t talk about. That he doesn’t like talking about.

He needn’t ramble anymore, really – fill the silence between them or attempt to explain himself because, in a flash, Steve slips off his tight-fitting navy polo and replaces it with his new Hellfire shirt.

And Eddie can’t help but beam at a job well done.

It hangs nicely. Loose enough to sleep in, but not billowing so much to swallow that physique entirely. The neckline sits just where he had hoped too, much lower than the regular Hellfire shirts, scooped below Steve’s collar bones so that even if it stretches in his sleep, it couldn’t possibly pull and tug at his scar.

It’s perfect.

Exactly what he wanted to give Steve, who looks down at the devilish, very metal logo – a sight that is sure to scare off his snooty parents for good if they ever see it.

Before he knows it, Steve lunges for him and Eddie feels his cheeks squish against his boyfriend’s hands as he is kissed.

And kissed.

And kissed some more.

Kisses that last for long enough and grow softer with every peck that Eddie soon feels his legs buckling and he forgets altogether what they are even doing up here, in Steve’s bedroom, in the middle of the day on a warm summer afternoon.

It’s just the he –

“ – I love you,” Steve smiles when he comes up for air and –

His eyes blow wide in an instant.

And Eddie is sure his own do too – maybe even pop right out of his goddamn skull with an audible gasp in there somewhere as well as they both fully realise what has just been said.

Steve loves him?

Just the same as he loves Steve. So much that he is blurting it out now, in the middle of his bedroom on a warm, mid-summer afternoon – perhaps months too early when they are probably, most likely still in the honeymoon phase.

All because of one perfect t-shirt.

Steve’s brow pinches together and his jaw goes slack as he looks away.

“I…” he trails off, drumming his fingers on Eddie’s shoulders.

“Stevie...” he tuts, smiling back at him.

He steps closer still, closing any remaining space between them as he loops his arms around his partner’s middle and squeezes him tight.

Eddie backs them a step back, then another. Then another until he is at a safe enough distance to rock Steve back and collapse onto the bed.

They fall with a conjoined, “Hmphf” – one that knocks the wind out of Eddie’s already breathless lungs and has Steve momentarily distracted away from whatever inner turmoil he had going on a moment ago. As he lands on top of his boyfriend, Eddie gets a feel of the shirt, now warmed by Steve’s permanently hot body temperature. A feeling that makes it seem even softer.

Like it is already worn in and loved.

He wants to ball a handful of it up in his fist and never let go.

But Eddie forces himself to sit upright, settling down in a straddled position to hover over Steve’s clothed form. He smiles down at the sight beneath him, his giddiness short-lived and quickly fading as a big, brown and now glistening set of panicked eyes return.

“Stevie,” he whispers, running his hand up Steve’s torso.

He ghosts his fingers with a featherlight touch over the printed logo, an illustration he had first scribbled on the back of his math book in his junior year.

Eddie leans forward and takes Steve’s hands, clasping them tight and one by one, he brings them to rest above his head where his super-soft signature swoop is sticking every which way, mussed by the bedspread.

He can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight – momentarily giving into the greedy feeling he gets when he thinks about how this Steve is the one he gets all to himself.

But Steve frowns, those expressive brows looking positively pained now as if only one thing could possibly soften them.

“I love you too,” Eddie says, freeing a hand to delicately pluck at Steve’s loosened neckline, “Obviously.”

“You do?” Steve asks.

Eddie nods as a visible relief washes through Steve’s eyes, leaving his brows to soften up so much he wonders if his boyfriend might now cry.

And before he can say or do anything more, Steve bolts upright, once again leaving Eddie feeling winded and more than a lot flushed this time as he wraps his arms around him and buries his face in his neck, snuffling close like the world’s cuddliest puppy.

They stay like this for a long while, simply breathing in sync as they hold each other. And soon Steve begins to sink, his body going lax as his head slips down onto Eddie’s shoulder.

“I really wanna sleep,” he hums as tears seep through Eddie’s own plain black t-shirt.

“You wanna try now?” Eddie offers, pulling back enough to give an encouraging little smile.

Steve nods, refusing to let him go as they lower down together as one, his eyes fluttering shut when his head meets the bedspread.

“Wanna get all cozy under the covers?” Eddie continues, nudging at the bedding.

He really doesn’t want to move too much more – not when Steve looks like this.

Relaxed.

Loved.

Comfortable and wrapped up in a softness Eddie would like to keep him cocooned in forever.

But as he always does, Steve moves for them and rolls to the side. He snuggles in close, burrowing his head between the crook of Eddie’s neck and the mattress all protected and safe. Eddie palms around for the blanket and haphazardly wraps what sliver of it is free around them, shielding his partner a little more for good measure.

It’s good like this.

Calm. Warm.

Soft.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #healing steddie #stranger things s4 #lily writes a fic #fluff and angst #cw injury #steddie fanfiction

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heys0ulmate · 16 days ago

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veneration (this faith's got me high)

pairing: sofia falcone/gigante x f!reader

summary: sofia isn't the same anymore- but you've waited too long for her to care.

warnings: uhh .. unnegotiated/dubcon, gun usage, slight bondage, passing out, im sure im missing stuff, not proofread, major abuse of italics sorry lmao

word count: 4.6K

A/N: this is the first part of what i PLAN to be a series, tho im not sure when the next part(s) will be out. i legitimately havent published a fic in over a decade so im sorry that its like. poorly structured LOL. not much smut in this one sorry yall. title from holy by zolita btw. also this was posted prematurely by accident cus it was still in my drafts but oh well

〰️

You don't recognize the room you're in, but you feel no danger. All you feel is giddiness and bliss.

There's something warm next to you. Sofia.

Her red, pretty lips are moving, corners curled up slightly, but you can't hear her. You laugh despite the fact, because it feels right. The joy in your chest overwhelming.

She's closer, now. You're laughing hysterically, to the point of tears. It's getting hard to breathe.

Sofia cups your face. She looks scared, but you still can't hear what she's saying. You can't speak- all you can do is laugh and choke for air.

The room changes.

It's crowded.

You spot Sofia from across the galley.

Something in you tells you to run to her, as fast as you can, like you'll die if you don't. It's an all-consuming type of panic, the inability to breathe slowly creeping back.

You push past the crowd, but the more progress you make, the larger the room seems to grow.

The crowd parts, and you see her. She's leaving the room, hand in hand with her father. Her lips are parted in a scream that you still can't hear.

"Sofia!" You shriek, running as fast as you can now that the people have cleared a path.

You're inches away from Sofia and the grip her father has on her when you suddenly hear her voice loud and clear from behind you.

"She's not here anymore."

You bolt up from your bed, gasping for air and flailing under your blanket, desperately trying to wrestle it off.

It takes a minute to gather your bearings.

"Shit," you mutter to yourself, rubbing your eyes.

It shouldn't phase you. You can't remember a single night in the past ten goddamn years that you haven't woken up from a some sort of dream-turned nightmare about Sofia. But something about this one seemed to stick to you like summer heat, an uncomfortable, lingering sensation that seems to amplify the harder you try to ignore it.

"She's not here anymore."

It rings through your head like a catchy song as you stumble into the kitchen for a glass of water.

In the ten years since Sofia was taken from you, you haven't heard her voice even once. You weren't allowed visitation as a non-family member, and phone calls were prohibited for the same reason.

It was almost if the sanctions had carried over into your psyche, some form of cruel punishment that prevented you from hearing her even in your dreams.

At least you were able to see her at night.

You'd never grown used to the inevitable, debilitating dread that suffocated you each time you awoke, but you still looked forward to falling asleep each night, knowing it'd grant you a brief illusion of having Sofia by your side again.

"She's not here anymore."

You try not to think to hard about it, to instead appreciate the blessing of being graced with her voice, even if it was just subconscious. You tell yourself it's probably just a result of the weeks recent events; the flooding of Gotham city. The death of Carmine Falcone.

The impact of it all must have rattled you.

That's all.

But... you can't shake the nagging feeling that there was something more.

It's then that your phone rings on your bedside table. *BRRR*

You set your water cup down with a huff, shuffling your feet slowly towards your bedroom. You're in no rush to pick up. Who the fuck call at this time of night; and without warning?

In your experience, this meant one of two things: the call was your basic, run of the mill scam attempt, or a reporter who had found your number and was desperate for some kind of story. Not that you'd ever give them one, of course. Even when Sofia was still around, and your relationship was somewhat in the public eye, you never discussed anything with journalists of any kind.

After Sofia was sent to Arkham, the scrutiny on you had increased. You went from being the occasionally mentioned girlfriend of Carmine Falcone's daughter, to 'the woman who loved The Hangman.'

Generally, the public saw you as a pseudo-victim; someone who had been manipulated by The Hangman, paraded to maintain a false image, and used as a front to keep Sofia's cover. They didn't believe you when you claimed to have been with Sofia on three of the nights that those women were killed. "The poor girl- who knows what that woman subjected her to, to make her lie for her?"

The year following her arrest was the peak of your exposure. You were relentlessly assaulted with press whenever you went outside, and you had to change your cell phone number four times.

Everyone was dying for an inside scoop on what it was like to know The Hangman intimately.

By the second year, you were more comfortable leaving the house. You moved just outside of Gotham, and slowly, the pressure for statements and interviews died down the longer Sofia was away. You still get the occasional phone call, someone hoping that now that it's been 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 years, maybe you'd be willing to share your 'story.'

You'd hang up immediately every time, until you got to the point where you just stopped picking up.

*BRRRRR*

You approach your bedside table with every intention to hit the reject button, squinting at the brightness of your screen in the dark of your room.

That's when you see the caller ID.

*000*

You pause.

So far, every telemarketer, every scammer, reporter, and journalist, were listed as either Unknown Caller, or a string of numbers.

The only time you received calls with three digit numbers was when it was Alberto.

A part of you hesitates. Alberto does this, sometimes, though it's become more sparse over the years: he goes on a bender, gets too in his feelings, and calls from a nurner phone and leaves you a barrage of voice and text messages. It's always the same, with him going on coked-up rant about how he's going to get Sofia out one day and wrong everyone who wronged her.

Outside of that, though, Alberto never called. When Sofia was sent away, Alberto had begun simultaneously spiraling and attempting to survive and thrive in the Falcone family. Between the drugs and job, Alberto became a lot more isolated than he used to be. Any attempt on your part to reach out wasn't successful. He stopped responding from the number you'd had saved, keeping communication one-sided.

Still, every week, you texted him the same thing at the same time. Sunday, 9AM, an hour before you knew Sofia had visitation hours. Tell Sofia I love her, please.

You'd never get a response, but you never really expected to, either. You had no way of confirming if he was seeing your messages. The only way you knew Alberto still even thought of you or knew your number was with the increasingly infrequent, triple digit ID calls.

Either way, the occasional drug fueled messages always left you feeling even more depressed. Knowing Alberto was suffering just as much as you didn't bring any sort of comfort; it just reminded you of your own pain.

*BRRRRR*

Between the unease from your dream and timing of the call, though, every instinct in your body is telling you to pick up the phone.

Your hands tremble as you clumsily smash the answer button with your thumb, bringing the phone up to your ear.

"Hello?" You wait with baited breath as you hear Alberto on the other side of the line. "...'Berto?" There's nothing but silence for a moment.

Then, you hear him clear his throat. "I, uh-" There's a pause, and a sniff. "I'm gettin' her out, [Y/N]."

You're heart pounds almost painfully. "Y-you mean-"

"Yeah," Alberto confirms with a disbelieving laugh, as if he can't wrap his own head around it. "Yeah," he says again, more firmly this time, confirming everything you've wanted, pleaded, prayed for, for ten years. "She's comin' home."

The news breaks two days later.

Two days of silence from Alberto after he dropped that fucking bomb on you.

You aren't sure if you're in shock, or if it literally hasn't quite hit you yet. Maybe it's because, despite a part of you accepting you'd never see her again, you always had faith in your heart that she'd come back to you. That naive hope kept you alive for ten years.

You aren't sure what to do with yourself, now. You've grown so accustomed to just... existing. Holding hope, with nothing to really do with it. This sort of feels likes that, but with more anticipation knowing what's to come.

Except, it doesn't.

She comes home, yes. You watch the reports about it, read the headlines, hear the outcries. But you don't see her. You don't hear from her, or Alberto, and you're resigned to waiting for one of them to reach out.

After a few days, you grew impatient. The anxiety you'd felt from waiting around had turned into a sort of panic, an all consuming need to make any attempt to quell your nerves.

Why hadn't you heard anything? Had something gone wrong? Did they forget?

You'd gone to the Falcone residence. It was fucking packed with news casters, journalists, rioters and spectators. It had taken you a while to shove your way through the mob, and when you had, you were turned away like everyone else.

You went back the next day, and the next, and the results were the same.

And then, Alberto dies.

You think the shock will return, but all you can think is Sofia, Sofia, Sofia. Your Sofia. Your girl, who must be hurting so tremendously right now, who you can't cradle and comfort.

It seems your deep seeded need to be by Sofia's side reignites some of your more rational thinking, though, and you consider your options.

The crowds of cameras and protesters should disperse by the time the sun goes down, you'd assume, giving you more of a shot to see her.

So, you decide to return to the Falcone's late that evening, when the moon has settled and the stars are at their brightest.

Despite the time, it seems the family is well awake, as all the lights can be seen as you walk up the driveway. You hear voices, though you're too far away to tell if they're shouts from behind the walls, or conversations outside.

Soon, two of the guards notice you approaching. "Hey!" One hollars, hoisting up his gun as he stalks towards you. "What are you doin' here? You got business with Luca?"

You should probably be more concerned about the possibility of being shot by a paranoid guard, but your adrenaline is pumping too hard to care.

"Uh- no, I'm- I don't," you stutter. "I wanna see Sofia."

As the second guard approaches, you hear a soft chuckle. "Ah, yeah, I remember you," he drawls, before turning towards the other man. "Used to hang around Sofia," he explains to him, making the other relax his posture slightly.

"She's not available," the first one grunts, "probably won't be for a while."

Being turned down does little to deter you. "So she's here? Just, not available?" You ask hopefully. They don't get a chance to respond. "That's fine. I can wait."

You make a bold move to squeeze past them, speed walking over to the grand stair case in front of the house with purpose.

Behind you, the guards bicker. You don't hear what they say, outside of something about 'letting Ms. Falcone decide,' but based on the lack of pushback, you assume the one who remembered you was suggesting the other guard leave it be.

You're perfectly content to sit for as long as you need to. You've waited a decade for Sofia; you can wait a few hours- or even until the morning- to finally see her after all this time.

To your surprise, though, you only wait for about 45 minutes.

The front doors of the mansion swing open, and you hear the click of heels stomping down the steps.

"Fuckin' pricks," someone mutters, and you immediately recognize the voice.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you stand on shaky legs, and you can't turn around to face her fast enough. You almost lose you balance in the process, but catch yourself in time for Sofia to notice your presence.

She has a cigarette halfway to her lips as she stares at you, an unreadable expression on her face.

You blink.

She blinks.

"You're..." her voice sounds empty for a moment. Then she shakes her head a little, blinking hard a few times and huffing. "What are you doing here, [Y/N]?"

You open your mouth, but your brain is moving a mile a minute. Nothing comes out, and you just gape at her like a fish for a few moments. "Uhhhh..." you trail off dumbly, but you're too frozen to even feel stupid about it.

Sofia rolls her eyes. "Come on," she says as she resumes her walk past you, lighting up her cigarette as she does. "I'm not staying too far from here at the moment."

You practically trip over yourself in your rush to follow Sofia. It's a bit of a struggle to keep up with her pace, but you manage. The car is parked at the end of the driveway. A burly man is propped against the hood, and he moves around to the back door when he sees Sofia quickly approaching. He opens it for her with a quick acknowledgment as she slides in smoothly, and remains silent as you clumsily follow suit.

Sofia keeps her eyes fixed out the window as the man gets into the drivers seat. You can't help but stare at her, though, something akin to awe making it impossible to look away.

A few minutes into the drive, you see Sofia tentatively shift her eyes towards you. She looks on guard, as though unnerved by your eyes on her.

Still, she says nothing. Her gaze stays trained on the passing scenery for the remainder of the ride, like she's stubbornly making an effort to ignore your blatant staring.

Sofia hardly waits until the car is parked to unbuckle and hastily exist the vehicle once it's pulled in front of her building. You rush to get your door open, jogging a little to catch up to her.

You're paid no mind as Sofia struts inside and walks to the kitchen. It's almost like you're invisible, a silent, unseen witness.

Sofia moves around the kitchen with a practiced ease, retrieving a glass and wine bottle that she pops open, pouring a sizeable amount. She takes a long, long sip, her head tilting back until the contents of her glass are almost completely gone.

Then, she sighs, her shoulders relaxing a bit as she embraces the warmth of the alcohol.

Finally, she looks at you, indifference written all over her face. "You didn't give me an answer earlier," she states simply.

You take a small step forward. "Sofia..." You blink hard, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions.

Sofia is looking at you. You see her. You hear her.

You take another step, and another, until your knees buckle in front of her. "Sofia," it's an almost reverant sound that makes Sofia inhale sharply.

She's so close.

You wrap your arms around her legs as you kneel before her, nuzzling against her thighs.

"Sofia," you say again, just as softly.

You can breathe again. After ten long, dreadful years, you finally feel like the air in your lungs is pure and real.

Sofia freezes. She's unsure of how to process this.

You're here. In front of her- willingly.

It feels wrong; you bowing before her when you have no idea who she is anymore.

"Cut it out," she mutters, lightly pushing your head away and taking a small step back.

You remain on your knees, looking up at her with half lidded eyes.

The adoration in them makes Sofia uncomfortable.

"Get off the floor," Sofia says, her tone indescribable. "You aren't an animal." She turns to top off her wine glass, takes a sip, and leaves the room.

It takes you a minute to gather yourself, but you slowly move towards the direction she headed in. You find her in a room down the hall, an open, office-adjacent space. She's sitting on a loveseat in the center of the room, staring blankly ahead as she sips away.

You pause in the doorway to observe her for a minute, wondering if she's aware that you've followed. You decide to let your presence be known, taking a few confident steps forward.

Sofia doesn't look at you when she speaks.

"Whatever you're here for," she starts, "you won't find."

"No," you find yourself saying. "No, Sofia, I..." you trail off as you come closer. "I... I just want you."

Sofia's jaw clenches. "You don't know what that means anymore," she spits, before taking another sip of her wine, attempting to grow the irrational anger brewing inside her.

There's a certain, panicked heat that comes over you then, feeling unheard and misunderstood. "No, no," you say hastily. "No, Sofia, please," you drop in front of her again. "Please, Sofia. I don't care what that- what that means. All I care about is you."

Sofia scoffs, her temper getting the best of her. She grips your hair without thinking, pulling your head off her lap to look up at her. "You want me to show you what it means?" She hisses, eyes wide and manic. "Okay. Take your clothes off."

You're momentarily stunned, not expecting Sofia's request. "What? Ah-!" Sofia yanks your hair again, gritting her teeth as she speaks. "Take off your fucking clothes," she repeats.

Her tone sends you into motion, and you scramble to remove your top. Sofia settles back against the couch as she watches you undress for her, keeping her features schooled.

Once you're bare, you shift on your knees a bit, unsure of what to do. Being naked in front of Sofia certainly isn't new, but, it's also been ten years since you've last been intimate with her. You never anticipated it happening again like... this. Sofia never acted this way with you in the last. Usually, she undressed you herself, slowly and with kisses on each inch of skin she revealed. She had been teasing, sure, but never so stern.

It stirred something in you that you couldn't place your finger on. All you know is, you certainly aren't complaining.

So, you stay still, not wanting to do anything without instruction lest Sofia decide she's no longer willing to entertain you. You bask in Sofia's predatory gaze, letting her drink in your exposed body.

Soon, though, you start to squrim a bit. It's not cold, per say, but the air was just brisk enough on your bare skin that you couldn't ignore the slight chill.

You shiver a little, and Sofia smirks.

"You cold?" She asks knowingly. Sofia keeps her eyes on you as she reaches for her wine glass, standing as she does.

You tense a little as she begins to stalk closer to you, a small sneer on her face.

She's behind you, now, but you don't dare to move your head, not even when you hear the clink of her wine glass on the ground. Instead, you stay still and complacent as Sofia picks up your discarded shirt and begins to wrap it around your wrists. You moan inadvertently at the feeling of her skin on yours, but Sofia takes a deep breath. She ignores the sound, instead making quick work of restraining your hands behind your back.

When she's done, Sofia picks her glass back up as she towers over you. There's a dark, empty look in her eye that sends a chill down your spine.

Sofia, of course, notices this.

She smirks. "Is that it? You chilly, sweetheart?" Her voice is patronizing and full of faux concern.

You're not sure if she wants an answer or not, but aren't given a chance to respond either way, Sofia suddenly splashing the remenants of the wine from her glass onto you.

You flinch, and gasp loudly at the cold sensation. You're hands instinctively move to rub at eyes in an attempt to clear your vision, but you find yourself tugging fruitlessly at the shirt Sofia had binded your wrists. The wine soaking your face and dampening your hair ends trickles down your body, erupting goosebumps in it's wake.

You're still blinking heavily in an attempt to normalize your seeing when hear a breathy cackle. You feel her pinch your jaw, a strong grip on you as she licks a filthy stripe up your face, lapping up the spilt wine. She releases you, the sound of footsteps echoing through the room as Sofia struts past you and towards the desk by the window. You can't see what she's retrieving, your eyesight blurry and unfocused.

By the time Sofia circles back, you've mostly regainedy your vision. You don't have any time to visually process what she has in her hand, though, as she wastes no time in forcing the barrel of her handgun past your parted, panting lips, and into your mouth.

"It's a terrible feeling. Isn't it?" The gun presses a little harder, and you cringe at the feeling of rough metal pressing against your tongue. "Nothing left to hide behind," Sofia drawls, her voice is surprisingly even, though her words feel weighted.

You blink up at her with an unnerving lack of fear.

Sofia bares on with a tilt of her head. "The guards at Arkham stripped us bare every morning," she states, and your heart clenches at the thought. "It was humiliating," Sofia continues, a subtle anger brewing in her voice with each punctuated annunciation, "being turned into a thing."

Sofia shoves the gun hard enough to make you gag, and presses forward until you're bending backwards. Sofia straddles you, her grip on the gun directing your movements. She has you sprawled on your back, hands twisted painfully under you, pressed between your spine and the hardwood floor.

Sofia lowers her face, her wild eyes inches from yours. "You think," she growls, "that I'm still who you knew?" She smiles, though there's no joy in it. "That I'm not just a thing?"

Apparently, it wasn't a rhetorically question, as Sofia yanks the gun out of your mouth.

You sputter for a second, before rushing to respond, "no," you gasp. "I- I don't expect you to- to be the same, Sofia, I don't." Your voice cracks a bit, and you pray that your eyes convey your earnesty. "I don't care that you- you don't feel like yourself, Sofia, if you feel different, now. I love you. I love you. I love you, Sofia," you insist, your voice soft.

Sofia regards you for a long minute, and you wait with abated breath to see how she'd react.

For a moment, you think she's heard you. Really heard, and believed you- believed in your unconditional love and devotion for her. There's a hopeful, but guarded look in her eye, something akin to a skittish street cat assessing if it should trust the hand reaching out to pet it. But, just as quickly as it appeared, it's gone.

Sofia's features go hard again, and she moves her face away, straightening her back and kneeling over you.

"You don't get it," she says- simply, quietly, almost as if to herself.

You part your lips to protest, but Sofia is quicker, and slaps her hand over your mouth. "Don't," she warns.

Sofia hates it. The way you don't even struggle under her; the way you just take it, like you understand what this means.

Why don't you get it? Do you really not understand what kind of horrors she was exposed to? What they did to her; what they turned her into?

It pisses her off.

How dare you, how dare you, prance back into her life, expecting her to be untouched by the hell that was Arkham?

Do you think she's naive? That she'd truly believe, after all this time, you'd still want her? Want her for who she actually is now?

You don't even fucking know her anymore.

Fuck.

It infuriates her for so many reasons that she refuses to acknowledge right now.

Instead, she let's herself embrace the unbridled rage that's always threatening to erupt inside her.

"Alright!" She exclaims, a Cheshire Cat grin spreading across her face. "You love me?" She taunts. "You think you want me?"

She shoves herself off of you to pull her underwear down her legs. You're heart thuds as she slips off her fur coat and hikes up her dress. Sofia easily drops back down, straddling your face and gripping your hair with one hand. "Show me, then." With that, she lowers herself completely, smothering your face in her cunt.

Your primal instincts kick in, then, and you press forward, your tongue eagerly swiping through her folds.

Jesus fuck, you think somewhere in the back of your mind. Finally, finally, finally.

You hadn't realized how much you craved the taste of Sofia until this very moment. It feels like you're starving, like you haven't eaten in ten goddamn years, and Sofia is the first meal you've been granted.

Your ministrations are messy and desperate. You can hardly think straight, overwhelmed by the taste and scent and feel of Sofia. All you do is lick and suck and moan, embracing the pure bliss you feel. The rapidly decreasing supply of oxygen in your lungs is easy to ignore when you finally have the privilege of pleasuring Sofia again.

Sofia's eyebrows furrow. You won't struggle under her. You won't look up with panicked eyes, even as she deprives you of air, even as she suffocates you.

You don't get it.

Sofia narrows her eyes and her hips buck forward. It's almost violent, the way she fucks your face, riding harder and harder. She grunts softly, losing inhibition as she watches her slickness spread all over your face.

Still, you only whine as though you're the one being pleasured.

Why don't you fucking get it.

Sofia tightens her grip in your hair, pushing your face impossibly closer against her cunt as she feels her climax approaching. She's panting harshly through her noise, controlling the means threatening to spill out of her.

Just then, your eyes slugglishly blink open and lock with hers. It's clear that you're moments away from passing out, and Sofia can only stare down at the dazed look in your eyes.

Still, there's no fear there. There's nothing but adoration.

Your eyes roll back, and your eyelids flutter shut. Sofia's breath hitches as your body goes limp under her.

It's then that she cums, her body tensing and jerking. A ragged moan escapes her as she grinds and grinds against you, using your unconscious body to draw the waves of pleasure out.

Sofia slumps off of you, sitting by your side as she recovers from the exertion. She just sits for a while, until her breathing regulates, and she gathers the courage to look over at you.

You're still passed out, but the slight rise and fall of your chest tells Sofia you are, in fact, alive.

It doesn't do much to relieve Sofia- not when there's a sick, familiar feeling of dread forming in the pit of her stomach.

No.

Sofia squeezes her eyes shut.

This isn't supposed to matter.

This doesn't mean anything.

Sofia stands, and smooths out her dress. She can't afford to have regrets; to have... things that make her question herself.

That's not her anymore.

Sofia takes a deep breath.

She squares her shoulders, and doesn't spare you a second glance as she forces herself to leave the room.

#sofia falcone x reader #sofia gigante x reader #sofia falcone #sofia gigante #nsft #the penguin

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rayslittlekitten · 1 year ago

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My First Night

“You Got This” Masterlist

A/N: Okay I've been wanting to write this for a looooong time and i think I finally figured it out. I wanted this to be tender and sweet (maybe a bit idealized as my first time was NOT any of those). I honestly miss these two. "My First Night" by Mya was the song that inspired this (YT link below).

Update: I fucked up. I prematurely posted this and have now updated the fic.

Rating: E (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: ~1,300

Pairing: Teenager!Jax Teller x Teenager F! Reader/OC (Opie's sister)

Plot: You're finally ready to take the next step with Jax and lose your virginity to him.

Contains: underage teenage sex, first time sex, losing virginity, PiV, fluff and tenderness

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Jax asks, his eyes locked on yours.

You stare back and nod your head as you let out a shaky breath.

"It's gonna hurt a lot," he warns you.

"I-I'm ready," you reassure him.

Jax leans down to give you a kiss on your forehead before looking down to align himself with you. You wince as he starts pushing in. He pauses when you emit an unpleasant sound and he then sees your face contort.

"We can stop-"

"No, I want to do this," you tell him.

"Okay," he nods.

He continues to gently push in as he watches for your reactions. You try to control your breathing as you feel yourself being stretched out.

"Ow! Ow!" A tear spills from the corner of your eye.

Jax stills his hips again.

"Okay I'm pulling out-"

"No!" you sniffle. "J-just go slowly. How much more is there?"

Jax glances down between the both of you.

"I only got the tip in."

Jax starts placing butterfly kisses on your face, hoping to help soothe the pain.

"I don't wanna hurt you," Jax reminds you.

He thought he got you wet enough, but now he's thinking maybe he should have prepared you more. He got a bit too excited when you told him you were finally ready to lose your virginity to him. The two of you got comfortable enough to do everything up until sex. He would penetrate you only with his fingers and every time, he would make you orgasm, drenching his hand each time. But this time, he may have not given you enough foreplay, rushing it a bit to finally be able to do this with you. He thought the lubricant on the condom would also help. A lot has to do with teenage hormones, but a part of him also wants to do this with you because he wants to, in his own words, make love to you. You thought that was sweet and it made you feel even more special.

"M-maybe if I smoke some weed or have some beer-" you start rattling off ideas, partly to distract yourself from the slight discomfort between your legs.

"No," Jax shakes his head. "I want you to be sober. I'd feel like I'm taking advantage of you. We can try another time-"

"Please, Jackson," you plead. "I want this."

Jax is torn between his raging hormones and his feelings for you. He's even surprised at himself for having so much self-control right now.

"I gotta go all the way in if you want to get past the pain," he says with his brows turned down.

"I can take it," you nod. "Do it."

Jax finally nods and leans in to give you a tender kiss. He watches your reaction again as he pushes in. You wince but don't make a sound. Another tear slips out from your eye and he frowns.

"Keep going," you tell him.

With that, as gently as possible, he slides himself all the way to the brink, making you gasp. He stays still, letting your body get accustomed to the new sensation.

"Fuck, you're so tight."

You start crying, feeling the burn of getting stretched out.

"I know, I know. I’m sorry." He coaches you and guides you through your first time. "It'll feel better. I promise. Just relax."

He wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs and plants a kiss on your forehead. He then starts kissing you again, making out with you for a bit to distract you from the pain, which subsides after a few moments.

"How are you feeling?" he checks up on you.

"It doesn't hurt as much as anymore," you tell him.

"I'm gonna start going in and out, okay?"

You nod and brace yourself. He gives you another comforting kiss before he starts moving. His hips pull back and push in, slowly and gently. You let out a sigh, taking in this new feeling. When he senses your body in a more relaxed state, he picks up the pacing. The old and worn out wooden bed frame creaks as he rocks. The lumpy mattress that’s probably been stained with so many bodily fluids, dips below you. The clubhouse dorm room isn’t where you imagined your first time, but you and Jax had limited options. With the club on a run and Gemma running errands, this was the best time and place, but it doesn’t matter because all that matters is who you’re with.

You were self conscious of being completely naked for the first time in front of Jax, but all those insecurities have gone away. Instead, it is replaced by the feeling of his naked body rubbing against yours. You feel so connected to him in a way you've never expected. His skin is so soft and smooth. The nerves of your skin get more sensitive with each stroke. You want to embrace him with every inch of your body and stay like this forever. You slip your arms behind him, feeling his bare back under your palms as his muscles flex. The burn between your legs has transformed into a more pleasurable feeling and you can feel yourself getting more aroused. Suddenly, Jax pauses, remaining still while inside of you.

"W-what happened?" you ask, wondering if you may have done something wrong.

"I'm just... pacing myself," he replies. "If I keep going, I'm going to bust in like two pumps."

"I-is that normal?"

"For guys my age? Yeah. But I'm also just over excited. I rubbed one out before I came to see you, but obviously, that didn't help."

You catch him studying your face. There's a smile that reaches his twinkling eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing," Jax shakes his head. He opens his mouth again, but he stops himself.

"What is it?" you press.

He simply slots his mouth over yours before moving his hips again. This time, his pacing is a bit quicker and more forceful. You moan into his mouth feeling a warmth forming below your belly. You instinctively wrap your legs around his lower waist and hook your ankles together. His kisses turn feverish as his thrusts pick up. Your fingernails dig into his back.

"Jackson..." you pant. "It feels so good."

Jax groans as he tries to hold back, delaying his release for you. He shifts his hips, changing up the position a little and you moan when he hits a new spot. A somewhat familiar yet new sensation rapidly multiples.

"Oh god," you yelp. Your body tenses and the tightening in your gut spreads.

"Let it go, darlin'," Jax grunts, resting his forehead against yours. "Let it all go."

He punches up against you as he quickly starts spiraling. You moan and cry out when something inside you snaps and the warmth floods your entire body. Jax lets out a growl and lets himself go as soon as he feels your wall contracting, no longer able to wait. You arch up and look up at him, your face contorting as your orgasm takes over you. You gasp when you feel him pulsating inside you.

"Fuck!" Jax growls.

He continues to pump inside of you until all of his seed spills out and collapses on top of you. His face is buried in your neck as you both catch your breaths. Your heart is pounding hard against your chest and you wonder if Jax can feel it as well.He finally pulls back and looks at you again with that same look he did earlier..

"I love you."

Your heart is so full right now, you can cry.

"I love you, too, Jackson."

In this moment, you are so happy, you are certain there is absolutely nothing that can take it away. Jax nudges his nose against yours and your hands cup his face before your lips meet again.

youtube

#charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam fanfiction #jax teller #jax teller x you #jax teller x reader #jax teller x oc #jax teller fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #you got this #Youtube

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crljhnn · 8 months ago

Text

Maybe It's Enough

Pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!Reader

Summary: Robin thinks you don't like her back, so she encourages Steve to take you out on a date. You think Robin doesn't like you back, so you agree to let Steve take you out on a date.

No use of y/n; lesbian reader

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: slight hints of / implied homophobia

[also posted on AO3]

The first time you actively realized that you were different was when you were 12.

You were lying on your bedroom floor, surrounded by your friends, looking through a magazine targeted towards young teenage girls.

You vividly remember your friends going on and on, gushing about the male actors and musicians featured in the newest edition, who were striking suggestive poses while smirking directly at the camera. You, on the other hand, only felt weak in the knees if the article displayed their girlfriends or female co-stars as well.

You grew up pretty sheltered, so it wasn't until a few nights later that you found out that women who were attracted to other women existed.

You were sneaking down the stairs to get yourself a bottle of water when you overheard your mother gossiping on the phone about a church friend's daughter, who was spending an awful amount of time with that new girl, Susan. Apparently, there have been rumors that she has been bringing shame upon her family and disgracing the church for quite a while.

Hearing the disgust in your mother's voice awoke a discomfort within you about your own emotions. You found yourself going back and forth between entertaining your suspicions and reassuring yourself that you simply hadn't met the right guy yet (that's at least what your older sister told you when you confided in her).

This maybe, maybe not spiel ended when you met Robin in your shared math class during your freshman year. She was somewhat angsty and awkward, and you were instantly in love. You didn't manage to muster up the courage to speak to her during that school year, though.

In your sophomore year, you were almost sure that Robin was gay. You caught her looking dreamingly at a little too many female classmates, a little too often. Also, from what you heard, she never had a boyfriend or openly expressed interest in any of the boys.

At the end of junior year, you were almost certain that Robin was into you. The staring was now reserved solely for you, and she constantly sat close, but never directly next to you. She also always started that cute nervous ramble when you tried to talk to her, and then always found a way to prematurely end the conversation.

"Sorry, I think I left my water bottle in the cafeteria. Bye!"

When you found out that Robin started working at Scoobs, you were tempted to go and visit her; this way, she was forced to talk to you. You nearly chickened out in the parking lot and had to hype yourself up for nearly half an hour just to be met with Steve "the Hair" Harrington when you got up to the counter.

You took that as a sign not to show up at Scoops again. Plus, now that you thought about it, what were you even supposed to talk about? The ice cream flavor?

That's why you were thankful when she started at the local video store. Movies were definitely something you could talk about for hours.

It wasn't as easy as you thought, though. Every time you came by, she was either busy organizing a section on the complete opposite end of the store or she was in the back. When you tried talking to her, she would always redirect you to Steve.

"I'm kind of busy right now, but I'm sure Steve can help you with whatever movie you are looking for. He is right over there."

Always rushed and always without looking at you.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe Robin actually despised you, and you completely misinterpreted her behavior. She probably thought you were some kind of stalker, keen on disrupting her at work.

---

"I swear she likes you, dingus! She is here all the time." Robin has been trying to convince Steve that you were head over heels in love with him for the last 10 minutes.

He was exasperated, standing in his typical mom stance with one hand on his hip. "She does not! Family Video is like the only video store anywhere close; that's why she comes here a lot."

"Well, she came to Scoops as well, when we were still working there!"

Steve probably doesn't even remember you showing up at their old job, but Robin does. She remembers how pretty you looked, how your outfit complimented your figure, and how your hair perfectly framed your face. She remembers it being a lot more nerve-racking than seeing you in school. This was a new environment, a whole new situation. She couldn't look at you from a desk behind you, hiding behind a book, if you decided to glance in her direction.

Before she was able to properly think about it, she had already headed to the back, the door slamming shut behind her.

"Wow, now I can't deny it anymore! It's not like half of Hawkins has been there at least once, and by your logic, she could be into you as well."

Robin wishes, with every cell in her body, that even the slightest glimmer of truth could lie in this statement. But it's not true. It couldn't be. And she has to remind herself of that. That way, it won't hurt as much when you end up with Steve or some other boy.

"Then why does she only ever talk to you, huh?"

"Because you run to the back as soon as she gets anywhere close to you!"

"And I'm doing both of you a favor. She comes here to talk to you and then gets too nervous to actually pull through with it. That's why she comes up to me."

"I think you are overthinking it."

And Robin definitely is, but at this point, she had already talked herself way too far into it.

"Trust me. I'm a girl. I should know stuff like that better than you."

"Yeah, 'cause you know so well what it's like to crush on a guy?"

"No, but I know what it's like to be a girl with a crush. Just ask her out."

Please don't.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

So that's exactly what Steve did.

---

The next time you visit the store, he makes sure to put on his especially charming smile, being right by your side as soon as you enter. He goes the full nine yards. Compliments your eyes, your outfit, carries the movies you picked out to the counter. After he finishes the process of checking them out, he is ready to make his final move. With whatever he has left of the famous Harrington charm, he asks you if you'd like to go out with him this weekend.

"Oh, I don't know. I'm really busy, you know, with school and everything. Sorry."

Rejection.

Steve only takes a second to recover. Even though Robin was sure of your attraction to him, he was still kind of expecting this. Regardless, Steve feels the urge to explain himself.

"No, it's totally fine. Really! I honestly wouldn't even have assumed that you were into me, but Robin was really insistent, so I thought I'd try my luck. No hard feelings."

"Robin told you to ask me out?"

"Yeah, why?"

That was the final nail in the coffin. Of course, she didn't like you. Why else would she try to set you up with her best friend? All the "signs" you saw were probably spun up by your imagination, caused by wishful thinking. Your own feelings must have clouded your judgment. You're embarrassed and sad. Maybe it is stupid and naive to expect to find a girl in a small town like Hawkins who is not only your type and assumably gay but also likes you back.

Maybe you should go on a date with Steve.

He really seemed like a changed man. He was unarguably attractive, even you could admit that. He was kind and, most importantly, interested in you. Maybe that's enough.

Maybe you were also a tiny bit driven by selfishness. Maybe you wanted to make yourself feel a bit better about receiving the confirmation that the girl you had been pining for for years simply wasn't into you.

For a moment, you felt bad for Steve. It would be unfair to lead him on like that, but let's be honest. From what you heard, that guy goes on three dates a week. How likely is it that he would go into this date with the expectation of finding his one true love?

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant. I would actually really like to go out with you. I really am busy, you know, with all the exams coming up."

Lies, there was nothing to study for the next two weeks. The only plan you currently had for this weekend was to cry over Robin.

"But I am free the weekend after, if that works for you?" You played that off nicely, right?

It seemed like you did because Steve's face lit up.

„Great, if you give me your number, I could just call you to talk about the specifics.“

„Yeah sure.“

While you focus on writing down your number on the piece of paper Steve slips you, he turns around to give Robin a thumbs up. Even though she tried to look just as happy as he did, anyone paying even a little attention could have seen that she was not okay. Her face scrunched up in a painful smile. Fortunately for her, Steve was way too distracted by the euphoric feeling of scoring a date to recognize his best friend's torment.

---

"You know, I was skeptical at first because I never felt that romantic vibe with her. She never seemed interested in me in that way. But now I'm so happy I asked her out. Like, she's so effortlessly beautiful and funny, and she is also really smart, you know?"

Yeah, Robin knows. She knew all this about you better than anyone else. Steve didn't even know yet how beautiful, funny, and smart you really are. But Robin had no doubt he was going to find out soon.

And she was going to die.

Okay, maybe that's a bit dramatic, but it will definitely feel like it.

"I could even imagine her being, like, the one, you know. I think what I've been doing wrong is going on dates with women I don't even know or with women who only know me from my "King Steve" days. They all have these weird expectations about how I'm supposed to act. But I got to know her over the last few months. And I know I'm actually able to hold a conversation with her, one that's not about high school."

Robin feels like she is going to throw up. Steve acted like he always did when he was interested in a girl: idealizing her and already imagining their house with a white-picked fence and their six little nuggets. She knew she would get over it eventually, even if you actually ended up together, but your first real crush will always hold a special place, especially your first lesbian crush. And Steve just couldn't shut up.

"Do you have an idea where I could take her? We were talking on the phone last night, and she told me to just come up with something. I really don't want to mess this up right at the beginning by picking the wrong thing."

Robin never wished to be an attractive teenage boy as much as she did at that moment. She wanted late-night phone calls with you, and she wanted the trouble of not knowing where to take you on a date.

She had also thought about going on a date with you for years, so yes, she definitely had an idea.

For a second, she considered not telling Steve to be selfish and not letting him live out the fantasy that had been keeping her company for the last two years. This urge, however, was overpowered by her need to make you happy. That's what she wanted most—for you to be happy and have a good time. So she told Steve all about your favorite music genre and to watch out for any small bands giving concerts somewhat close.

---

Meanwhile, you were still grieving this whole Robin disaster. How the hell did your regular visits to the video store, intending to talk to Robin, score you a date with her best friend?

Yet, you found yourself genuinely looking forward to your plans with Steve. His idea of driving a few towns over where a small band you never heard of, though the flyer suggested that the music would fit your taste to a T, was giving one of their first concerts, which was actually the most fun date you could imagine.

Even if you didn't like him romantically, you would still have a good time. And you thought it was admirable that he would plan something that fits your taste so well. Now that you think about it, you don't remember ever discussing your music taste or your fable for small underground bands with him. You don't know how he knew; perhaps you mentioned it casually, or maybe it was just a lucky guess.

---

Steve turns up at 5 p.m. sharp. He is standing in front of your door, with a bouquet of flowers, in an outfit you know he will stand out in at the rather shady bar the band is playing at.

The one-hour-long drive ends up being surprisingly entertaining, and for the first time in your life, you kind of wish to be straight. You often wished to not be gay, to "be normal," or to fit in, but never before did you specifically wish to be into men. But right now, you do. Because Steve is kind and charming and attentive and funny while also being insanely attractive, and you just wish you could fall for him. Because you know that would be the easiest thing to do if you were into men.

But you are not.

And now you are driving back home, and you are sitting next to Steve in his car while he rants about how positively surprised he was by the band and how they are definitely one of his favorites now, and you just feel bad. He clearly had a good time, and he hinted at his interest in you and a second date multiple times over the evening. You just know that you have to come clean.

After your sister's reaction, you never considered coming out to anyone in Hawkins again, well, except Robin, but definitely not to "King Steve." You honestly don't even know why, but somehow you really want to tell him. Perhaps you're driven by guilt; after all, you had a great time, and the thought of rejecting him with a shitty excuse feels wrong. Moreover, continuing to lead him on would be worse.

Steve turned out to be a decent guy, right? You dearly hope that you are not making a horrible, irreversible mistake by coming out to him.

"I really had a good time tonight."

"Yeah? Me too. I was thinking we could repeat this, whe-"

His enthusiasm about going out with you again made you feel sick.

"Steve"

His face falls when he detects your tone, realizing you are about to reject him.

"Oh."

"Look, I really had a great time, and you are a great guy, but I'm actually not into boys. I'm sorry."

That's it. You put your cards on the table, full vulnerability. There is no way to misunderstand what you just said.

Or so you thought.

"I understand. You want a man, someone who will be able to take care of you. Not some boy who didn't even get into college. I know my future isn't looking the best right now. I'm probably gonna be stuck working in a video store for minimum wage till I retire. But-"

"No, Steve, what? What I was trying to say was that I'm a lesbian. I like girls. I'm sorry for leading you on."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"But why did you agree to go on a date with me then?"

Did you really want to tell him the whole truth? If you told him about your crush, you have no doubt that it would reach the girl of your affection herself, and you really didn't need that. However, being so open about something you hardly ever told anyone, and him not reacting outright badly, kind of made you want to tell him about your feelings for his coworker as well. You already told him your biggest secret; what's one more?

"When you said that Robin told you to ask me out... man, this is so embarrassing to say out loud. I just kind of like her, like really like her, and her encouraging you to date me kind of made it clear that she does not feel the same. And I just thought, I don't know, the rejection kind of stung, and feeling wanted, especially by someone like you, felt kind of nice. I didn't think it would go as well as it did, considering your dating history. Sorry, was that mean? You know what I'm trying to say. But you are great, and now I feel shitty, not just for being indirectly rejected but also for using you as a distraction and ego push. I'm sorry."

You're too scared to look at Steve. Completely focused on looking anywhere but him while your brain keeps listing reasons why you are a horrible person.

At the same time, Steve's thoughts are running a thousand miles per hour. He's disappointed, sure. He likes you and, until a second ago, really hoped to build a relationship with you. Now, however, more present was the goal of setting you up with Robin. This was perfect. All her rants about never finding another gay person in Hawkins he had to listen to, and now he not only found someone who was gay, he found someone who already liked his best friend. Or you found him.

Now the question emerged: What's the best way to go about this? His first instinct was to tell you to just ask Robin out, but by doing that, he was basically outing her, so maybe not the best idea. Additionally, he didn't even know if Robin liked you back. That's it. Before he does anything, he should try to find out if your feelings are reciprocated. Or if Robin is at least interested in getting to know you romantically.

With this plan in mind, he first assures you that he has absolutely no problem with gay people, even if he is a bit clumsy at finding the right words to express it, and then drops you off at home. He is about to have a long night, planning to figure out the best way to unsuspiciously find out if Robin likes you back and how to hype you up in case she isn't sure yet.

---

The next day, he shows up at Family Video, ready to put his plan into action. Robin, however, is dreading to come in today. She doesn't know how she will last a whole day with Steve telling her how perfect the two of you are for each other and how well your date went. She just knows you two had a great time. If she hadn't been certain already, she would have reached the conclusion at the very latest when Steve basically came skipping into work, smiling with giddy excitement.

For the first three hours, Robin is surprisingly successful at dodging Steve's attempts at conversation. However, her luck runs out when he decides that both of them will have an early lunch break since it is a pretty slow day and there is really nothing to do. She can hardly say no to that, at least not without awaking suspicions. So after Steve does a quick food run and picks up some baked goods from a nearby bakery, the two sit down next to each other, each with a fresh pastry in front of them. That's when Steve sees his chance at being your hypeman.

"... and you know, I feel that's something not a lot of people do, like it's rare you find someone like that. And she is also just a great listener, like she does not only listen; she actually hears what you say. You know what I mean?"

This is hell. No, Robin bets hell is a whole lot nicer than this. It has to be. Nothing could be as awful as your best friend going on a ten-minute monologue about how perfect your crush is and what a great time they had on their date.

"So what do you think? You've known her for a while; do you think she's cool?"

"Yeah, she is. I'm glad your date went so well, and I think it's great you found someone. I'm really happy for you. So when are you going out again?"

Wait.

That is not what Steve was trying to achieve. Stop! Abort mission!

"Oh, we are not going out again."

Robin nearly chokes on her croissant. Eyes wide, coughing, she nearly spits out what she didn't manage to force down her throat.

"What do you mean you won't go out again? You literally just went on a ten-minute rant about how great she is!"

"Yeah, she is. But she's not interested in me. She already likes someone else."

Robin doesn't understand how her best friend can be so nonchalant about this. He seems absolutely unfazed, talking to her as if the reality that the most perfect girl does not like him back is the most basic fact, that he has absolutely no negative feelings about. Did he recently become extremely good at acting? There is no way he was able to hide his feelings so well.

"Steve, I am so sorr-"

"No, it's fine. Really, I'm okay. I actually wouldn't be affected at all if she started seeing this person. Like, I'd be really happy for both of them. No negative feelings on my part at all."

Okay, now he was acting weird. And why would you say yes to the date in the first place, if you already had your eyes on someone else? So she asks him about it.

"She believes her crush doesn't like her back, so she thought there was no harm in going on a date with me. But she is definitely not interested in me in the slightest!"

"Well, that's bullshit. Who wouldn't like her? I mean, she is everything! She is smart, pretty, compassionate, and talented. She is the full package. There is no way anyone would say no to her. I thin-"

Steve stops comprehending what she says after that, too occupied with his own thoughts. How could he have been so oblivious? The hiding in the back? The constant redirection to him? Her inability to speak to you? She wasn't giving you the opportunity to talk to him; she was too nervous to talk to you herself. Robin had a big fat crush on you, and it was so obvious now that he was paying attention.

Steve's ecstatic. Now all that was left to do was set you two up.

---

This was easier said than done. For a few days, he tried and tried to come up with a way to get you two together without telling either one about the other's feelings. However, this was nearly impossible with how much you two insisted on avoiding each other, each dealing with their own heartbreak, still believing their feelings weren't reciprocated.

At some point, the frustration became too overwhelming, and he reached the conclusion that he was going to have to out at least one of you to the other. His first thought is to just put you two in a room, drop the bomb, and then leave you to it. Steve decides against this, fearing you would both be too awkward to move forward from this.

He contemplates who could handle the situation better and decides that telling you is probably the right choice. Happy with the prospect of finally freeing himself of this burden, he gives you a quick call, informing you of his need for a conversation, and then makes his way over.

---

"Why did you have to tell me? Why couldn't you tell Robin? Now I have to make the move, and I'm probably gonna embarrass myself soo bad!"

After getting over the shock that Robin reciprocated your feelings (at least to Steve's suspicions), you relatively quickly became frantic, mad that he put you in a position where you had to be the one to act. Why couldn't he tell her? After all, is she his best friend? And he knows that you like her, for sure. Even though he swears to be sure about Robin's feelings as well, he never actually heard her admit it out loud.

"Don't get your panties in a twist. I have the perfect, foolproof plan."

"Ew, don't say that word."

"What? Plan?"

"Shut up. So what's your great plan?"

The relationship between you and Harrington has gotten a lot more casual and familiar since your "date." You never expected it, but you are really glad to call him a close friend now.

"Okay, listen up. You're going to come to Family Video tomorrow, bring some takeout, or better prepare some food yourself, and tell Robin you and I made plans to have lunch together."

"Wait, I thought you had the day off tomorrow?"

"I have. So you are going to be all disappointed, having prepared all that food for nothing. So you will offer to share with her instead. It's the only logical thing. You wouldn't want to waste the food."

"That's the worst plan I've ever heard. That's so lame, Steven!"

"Don't call me Steven. And it's brilliant! You will get a nice romantic date without making it look like you're doing too much."

You're still not convinced, but you don't have a better idea, so you agree.

---

"Hi, Robin!"

"Oh, hi, hello, what's up?" What the fuck? Get yourself together. "What are you doing here?" Robin has been paranoid since Steve voiced his suspicion about her feelings for you. If completely oblivious Steve could see it, could you too?

"Is Steve here? We have plans for lunch." You demonstratively hold up the two lunch boxes you brought.

You spent hours yesterday racking your brain about what to prepare. What would Robin enjoy the most? What can you cook without messing it up, especially if you're this nervous? All while you also considered what you could eat without embarrassing yourself. You don't want to sit there and have half the contents of your burger fall all over your hands. Or get food stuck between your teeth without noticing. And what could you transport over without ruining it in the process? Would the food stay warm for long enough? Or should you pick a meal that is served at room temperature? In the end, you called Steve and cooked the first thing he suggested, following his advice not to overthink it.

"Steve is not scheduled for today."

"Oh."

"That's so typical, this dingus. I'll call him; give me a minute."

"It's fine. Would you maybe like to share? My lunch break will be over till he gets here. I mean, I already cooked and brought the food. If you don't have any other plans, we could share it. Unless you don't want to. That would be fine as well. I don't-"

"I want to."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, nice. Let me just set up."

"Oh, of course, I'll show you the break room. Follow me."

The awkwardness dies quickly. Talking to Robin with the knowledge that she likes you back makes you a lot more relaxed around her. There aren't any weird periods of silence, and you feel a warmth and connection you never felt before.

With that, you finally work up the courage to ask her out. After years of pining, you are really about to do it.

"I wanted to ask you something, and it is totally okay if you say no. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. If you don't want to, we can just forget that I ever asked, so-"

"Just spit it out. Rambling is my thing, and you are not allowed to steal that." Robin tries to lighten the mood and take away from your clear nervousness.

"Would you like to go out with me sometime? Like, on a date."

"But Steve said- WAIT! I am the one you like?"

"Yeah."

"Damn."

"So?"

"I would really like to go out with you."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

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icycoldninja · 2 months ago

Note

Hiii!! I really like your writing and I always look forward to your posts!!!! ∩^ω^∩

Picture this, DMC boys with an s/o who knits/crochet 🧶 The reader is very nifty with yarn and makes the boys gifts.

Dante seems like he can rock some knit gloves as he’s fighting demons. He has a little collection from experience of his gloves ruined after his missions.

Vergil seems he uses little bookmarks his partner makes, or a blanket while reading.

Nero is a little harder, tbh I see him swinging around a crochet axe or sword laying around. That or a scarf, idk 🤷‍♀️

V is the hardest I can think of, but I think a sweater/cardigan would suit him. Buddy looks cold 24/7 and he’ll be swaddled with shadow and griffon made a lil sweater during the winter months.

I can just picture the guys having to deal with a bunch of yarn n tools around their shared place w their partner. Ever since I’ve started knitting, yarn has become my whole personality 👵

Aww thank you. Sorry I've been so inactive lately, and for the fact that I had to close requests, but I hope you enjoy all the same! Knitting sounds fun tbh, glad u enjoy it

Sparda boys + V x Knitter!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Constantly makes fun of you and calls you a grandma--in a fond way.

-He does indeed have a collection of knit gloves that you made him, and that fall apart after one mission because of all the roughhousing he does.

-He also has a collection of knit socks, mostly used as backups for when you put all his other sweaty socks into the wash.

-Once sat on one of your knitting needles and got PTSD that he will carry until the end of time.

-Cannot open your closet without worrying about the 800 rolls of yarn that will inevitably fall out onto him, so he bought a giant set of drawers for you to store them in.

-When winter rolls around, you guys will be very warm in your knit sweaters.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil loves to sit around and read. He loves it even more when there's a nice blanket to snuggle up in.

-He has ordered you to knit him 5 of these comfy blankets so he has extras in case something *cough* Dante *cough* happens to the other ones.

-You joke that he's finally acting his age, doing old man things. He replies, saying you're prematurely aging into a granny. Any minute now, you'll need dentures. It's all in good fun, nothing personal.

-He likes your crocheted bookmarks because not only do they remind him of you, they are also very beautiful.

-He carries a whole bunch of them with him for no explainable reason.

-Once got his foot tangled in all your yarn and nearly tripped. To this day, he silently thanks his lucky stars that no one saw him.

□ Nero □

-Nero never thought much about knitting and what things one can knit until you gave him a very warm scarf.

-Now he refuses to go anywhere without that scarf--it's basically a safety blanket to him.

-He saw you trying to crochet weapons and figured he'd try them out. Even though he probably wouldn't be able to kill a demon with them, they're still fun to have around.

-When Dante and Vergil come over, they end up throwing these crocheted weapons at each other during their inevitable arguments, so Nero suggested hiding some in strategic locations throughout your house.

-He has you knit sweaters when the weather gets colder, but you went overboard, so now there's a huge trunk of sweaters and blankets in your closet.

-He takes you to the craft store every weekend to pick out new supplies.

● V ●

-V is a frail little thing who should be clothed in the finest raiment.

-So, you made him a sweater. However, you sorely miscalculated how large the sweater would have to be, and now it looks like he's wearing a dress.

-Not like he cares; this means there's room for his familiars (or you) to snuggle up in.

-Shadow loves to pull on loose threads and play with your yarn rolls. Oftentimes, this results in a huge mess.

-V would love it if you could knit him shirts or socks to go with the sweater. He loves being all cozy and warm.

-Crocheting some toys for Griffon and Shadow wouldn't be a bad idea either--maybe this will save your precious yarn rolls from being unraveled.

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spookyagentfmulder · 1 year ago

Text

Mulder was incredibly thankful that Scully was with him right now. All the other times he had been with Emmanuel had been on his own, and the truth hard to substantiate or justify. But here she was, at his side, bearing witness to the presence of an angel in the basement office of an FBI building.

As he stepped forward, his hand slid along Scully's arm almost as if he were drifting out to sea and she was the dock he was tied to. He tried to get as close as he could, wanting to set down his documents on the desk between himself and their guest. He could feel the shift in the air as he got closer, and he recalled images of Tesla coils, Faraday cages, lightning rods.

He could practically feel his hair standing on end. It was that feeling he had felt during their first encounter; his hand now becoming the fork itself.

emmanuel did not have to wait long. he did not know at what time they usually came to work but he'd only spent a pleasant twenty minutes with the book when he felt someone approaching. familiar but not quite. he could hear her footsteps before she even opened the door but only with a slight delay did he think of standing up, as would be polite, to greet her. the book slid out of his hand and back on the tabletop, and his hands smoothed over his jacket.

"hello! you must be scully." he smiled, though he did not move to meet her and shake her hand. her arms crossed over her chest made him think it best to give her space. he'd found, facing her, that considering the time he's had here alone, he really did not put enough thought into planning what he was going to say once the two actually do arrive. he supposed that had to do with stopping around for chitchat. so long as one was delivering messages of the holy, the scenario was only ever crystal clear, -- but dropping by as a friend was a whole another problem.

feeling slightly awkward to be so caught off guard, he'd felt his face getting warmer with embarrassment, just as he realised that he may have known her but she never met him. "oh, i'm --" mulder entered right about then, and so he did not really get to finish his introduction, where instead mulder finished it for him. he smiled, as if to say thank you for speaking his name. "hello, mulder... are you quite alright?" coming to see the man so shaken up he started to wonder if this was a good idea. he would hate to cause trouble, after all.

#handgiven #beyondthescully #I am also sorry for Mulder #also got so excited I posted this prematurely #;on a case -IC

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greynatomy · 10 months ago

Text

alexia putellas social media au - 2

google translate was used

pt. 1

———

liked by yourinstagram, marialeonn16 and 351,374 others

alexiaputellas y aquí… ya teníamos la estrella en el pecho para siempre

and here... we already had the star on our chest forever

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yourinstagram so proud of you mi amor ❤️

↳ alexiaputellas thank you for being with me every step of the way ❤️

alexiafan1 LA REINAAA

alexiafan2 that’s my captain right there

alexiafan3 why is no one talking about alexia replying to some random girl and are apparently close??

↳ alexiafan4 that’s what i’m wondering

liked by kyracooneyx, yourinstagram and 367,638 others

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user1 mother is MOTHERINGG

user2 oh to go on a kbbq date with alexia

↳ user3 the dreammmm

liked by user1, user2 and 8,647 others

athletenews LEAKED photos from alexia putellas ‘alleged’ girlfriend

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user1 alexia has a girlfriend?!

user2 sorry guys we wanted to keep it on the down low

user3 the first pick is the same place that alexia posted in her photo dump

↳ user4 oh you’re right! they’re so dating

liked by user1, user2 and 2,648 others

alexiaupdates alexia has a girlfriend apparently. the first photo is from alexia’s recent instagram photo dump. the second photo comes from a the profile @/yourinstagram that was hacked. same place.

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user1 she’s the private account you discovered a while back!

↳ alexiaupdates she is!!

user2 she’s so pretty

user3 don’t post these. her account is private for a reason and her privacy was violated when someone hacked into her account.

↳ user4 i get you’re an update account for alexia and i’m assuming you’re also a fan but take this down. alexia will share her relationship when she is ready to.

this post was deleted

liked by yourinstagram, marialeonn16 and 736,638 others

alexiaputellas nos encantó tener nuestro amor para nosotros mismos durante los últimos tres años y desafortunadamente fue revelado al mundo prematuramente.

we loved having our love to ourselves for the last three years and unfortunately it was revealed to the world prematurely.

mi mundo ❤️

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user1 hope the person who hacked the profile doesn’t have a good night’s sleep

↳ user2 i hope their pillow is warm on both sides

↳ user3 i hope the monster under their bed gets them

user4 cutest couple!!

yourinstagram te amo ❤️

marialeonn16 you’re lovey dovey in private but now i gotta see it in public now too?

↳ yourinstagram @/ingrid_engen come get your puppy

↳ ingrid_engen @/marialeonn16 stop messing with them or you’ll sleep on the couch

↳ marialeonn16 yes ma’am

↳ alexiaputellas ooh she’s in trouble

↳ yourinstagram @/alexiaputellas you can join her on the couch

↳ alexiaputellas yes ma’am

↳ user5 loving this friendship

liked by alexiaputellas, albaps9 and 3,738 others

yourinstagram mi amor ❤️

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user1 she went public!!

↳ user2 kinda sad she was kind of forced to

user3 AHHH ALEXIA CONTENT

alexiaputellas te amo ❤️

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haven’t been writing as much cause i’ve got no requests at all so it’s like a nice little vacation and decided to do a smau for a change

#woso x reader #woso #greynatomy #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso community #barcelona femeni #fcb femeni #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader

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verstarppen · 1 year ago

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hi i'm STAR ⋆.˚

21, she/her, european, writer, artist, uni student, batman, infj, max verstappen's lawyer, cat meme dealer

˗ˏˋ MASTERLIST ˎˊ˗

What apps do you use to make your posts?

↳ i use an app called "memi message sms" for the texts, "twinote" for twitter stuff while everything instagram related i do manually on photoshop (pain, agony even)

Are your requests open?

↳ if you've sent a request it should be added as a WIP on my masterlist if there is no WIP next to it, it means its completed and chilling in my drafts until its posted ;if it's not there it either got lost in anon purgatory ( in which case im sorry i'll never see your silly little thought ) and i didn't recieve it or i've decided i can't execute it and another author can do your request justice. i deal with faceless readers, so any kind of specificity appearence wise is an instant no for me and my work. thank you for understanding :)

Cat meme folder reveal?

↳ no that's my secret weapon im not releasing it to the public you'll never catch me

When are you posting next? / Do you have a schedule?

↳ i promise y'all, hand on my heart, in our lord and saviour max verstappen's name, that i try my best with updating and posting. unfortunately, uni takes up most of my time, so updates aren't as frequent. i post when i can, as my fics require a lot of photoshopping and as a perfectionist, unless i think the story is at its best form, i never post prematurely. i also take january / february and may / june off, as uni exam season hits really hard and 100% of my focus is required.

if you wish to be included in a taglist, please make sure your settings allow me to tag you, otherwise you won't be notified :)

all you have to do is fill out this google form and if you, for some reason, aren't notified, shoot me an ask immediately and i'll correct the mistake

this page is intended for entertainment only. any texts, messages, pictures or captions have been altered for the purpose of a story with absolutely no malicious intent. i make no profit from this work. all rights of the original images belong to the official f1 social media accounts. everything written by me is fanfiction has no affiliation with the real life persons depicted in it.

#introductory post

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ramblingsfromthytruly · 3 months ago

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the pages are turning~

a months old pic of my desk

29th august 2024

day 4/50 - productivity challenge

🕒 6:00 a.m.

sleep deprivation is hitting. eating leftovers and coffee for breakfast.

checked notifs

actually ate some goddamn breakfast

not me realizing that i barely eat 2 meals every school day..

revised psychology: ch-1: what is psychology

here's a (self) reminder to actually go study instead of procrastinating 30 mins by watching study motivation videos.

also i recommend listening to non-lyrical music while studying. i personally listen to classical piano music. this is what i was listening to today morning.

showered

morning skincare

extended duolingo streak

aaand off to school. thought i would be late but honestly i've been reaching at the correct time all these days. if i leave my house by 8:05 then i'm good.

at school i first had physics and then 2 continuous chemistry classes (the teacher is good but her classes are so draining ugh).

completed physics classwork (the stuff i missed when i was absent on tuesday)

did the OCEAN test in psychology class! idk why but i love personality tests. i'll discuss my results with my teacher tmr hopefully but what i gathered is that i'm an ambivert leaning to introversion and ok emotional regulation & stability. my other classmate was very much an extrovert with higher tendency to take others' words to heart. we bunked the last 2 english classes together in the library lol. also want to say that i'm so ashamed for having formed an image in my mind of her, without really knowing her that well. i cruelly judged her prematurely and though we didn't really talk about our lives and stuff, we did get closer (maybe even friends?) today and i regret my judgments. ik i would be crushed if someone thought up an image of me in their head like that and i try not to do the same but sometimes i make mistakes. i'm trying to be more aware of that.

studied psychology ch-6: human memory (in the library when i skipped english)

lightly rained the entire trip home and got much louder as i ate a hearty lunch 😋

started a word doc for biology investigatory project

started a word doc for chemistry investigatory project

me and my bestfriend have been much more honest with our feelings recently. the saying "distance makes the heart grow fonder" was actually made for us. she's in a new college all popular with new pretty friends and boys probably crushing on her and she says i'm her favourite person. i'm at a new school slowly making new friends and she's my favourite person. i told her i love her. she deserves to know that. and i meant it totally platonically and that doesn't make it any less. if anyone ever asks, "who's your first love?" i'll say her name. it'll always be her.

practiced playing keyboard 🎹

read newspaper 📰 (some of those cases make me feel sick)

post for studyblr weekly prompt

dinner. yum. noodles and cake.

made notes psychology ch-1: what is psychology?

night skincare

🕒 nope! pulled an all-nighter.. yes i have school tmr 😃 listen i do not recommend doing this shit at all. why did i do it you may ask? i don't really have any crushing deadlines as such, but i've tricked my mind into thinking my own plans are deadlines. this week my sleep has been astronomically fucked up. the weekend will be a reset (i have school on saturday 😭) and i will prioritze sleep. i need to at least manage 6-7 hours everyday.

edit: actually i fell asleep around 2 a.m. and did no other studying..

🎧 i love you, i'm sorry by gracie abrams

her songs are actually just excerpts from my journal but minus the romance unfortunately like where's my gf ugh we're wasting time

a months old pic of my desk

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ashcal99 · 1 year ago

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Collarbones : Jasper Whitlock Hale II

Chapter Two

"I can see your collarbones and baby I'm scared, Never thought I'd be so unprepared"

Summary: Camila Johnson was only 16 when she was diagnosed with leukemia. By the time she had turned 17, the doctors had tried everything to save her. Her family is close to giving up hope when they hear of a doctor who may be able to help her. The only problem is, he lives on the opposite side of the country. The small family soon decides to move to the small town in Washington, in efforts to prolong her life. In doing so, her life changes forever.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, descriptions of disease and weight loss, general angst, slow burn, blink and you'll miss it mention of eating disorder

Words: 5.1k

A/N: Please lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Sorry for the delay in posting, I just got back from vacation, so I'm hoping to get back to normal posting soon. THX x

Soundtrack

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

——————

January 25th, 2005

Jasper had stood there for a moment, mind cluttered with thoughts as he tried to make sense of what he had just seen. He had been there completely by chance. Everything had happened so quickly yet almost in slow motion. He had heard the van speeding down the road. Had seen Alice’s face as the vision had played throughout her mind. Had heard Edward yell out in anguish as he saw what Alice had seen as she was seeing it. Next thing he knew, they were in the hospital, trying to warn Carlisle of what had happened.

In truth, he was a bit angry with Edward. Not as much as Rosalie, but still angry non the less. He understood that it would’ve been bad for everyone in that situation if the van would’ve crushed her. The blood itself would’ve been a huge issue for himself. But Edward saved her and in turn had exposed them all to the girl. In the end, he hoped Edward wouldn’t come to regret his actions. He hoped that they wouldn’t have to give up this life that they had built for themselves in Forks prematurely.

The whole group had been caught up in hushed conversation with Carlisle that he hadn’t even noticed her until the door had shut behind her. Then, all of a sudden, she was there, standing just outside of Carlisle’s office, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Anxiety radiated from her as she quickly turned, averting her gaze and walked down the hall away from the group. Clearly he had seen something that she hadn’t wanted him to, but what, he wasn’t sure.

He had a clue of what it could be, but he needed to make sure before he jumped to any conclusions. He needed to talk to Edward, but he knew he would have to wait. He also would have to leave the hospital soon. His concentration was beginning to waver, and as much as he tried to stay as far away from the patient rooms, he could still smell the fresh blood. Alice could see this in his face, so she grabbed his hand and drug his stiff body back out into the parking lot, deciding that the rest of the family would have to find their own way home.

Alice sat in the driver’s seat weaving and winding down the long road that lead to their home. “Are you going to stay silent the whole ride?” She asked, trying the break the tension.

Jasper let out a huff of air. “Do you know?” He asked, referring to the situation with Camila. It was eating him alive, not knowing. He hadn’t been so stressed in years, and the possibilities running through his mind were burning their way through his brain.

She nodded hesitantly. “I’ve seen it. After she came out of Carlisle’s office I had a vision of it.” She said.

He looked out of his window to the trees rushing past. He knew from the look on Alice’s face that he was right in his suspicions, and his heart ached with this realization. “She’s sick.” He said simply. Not a question, but a statement. It made sense. This was why she was in Carlisle’s office. That alone meant that it was bad. Most likely terminal.

Alice let out a heavy sigh, knowing that it would be of little use to hide the rest from him now “Leukemia.” She stated simply. It hurt her to see her brother in pain, but this pain was inevitable. She had seen everything play out, and there was no going back now.

The word had stabbed him right in the heart. Suddenly, every little detail made sense. The scent of her blood, the bruises on her arms, her confusing emotions. His head fell into his hands. “Fuck.” He said, mind reeling. Sure, he barely knew the girl, but knowing she was dying hurt, and he was vaguely aware that it shouldn’t hurt as much as it did.

Yes, he knew that she was only human, and even if she wanted to be friends, in the end she would leave and he would be left alone. But knowing she was dying was like he had been shot in the chest. He knew that there was no physical aliment that was causing it, but the pain in his heart felt so real in that moment.

He knew it would do little to help knowing, but he had to ask. “How long?” He murmured.

“Less than a year.” She answered stiffly, trying her best not to be too specific, not wanting to upset him further. “But that could change.” She said quickly. He looked up at her, hurt crossing his features. He knew that she didn’t mean it in a hurtful way, but he couldn’t bring himself to think of that future. He couldn’t hope for that. “I’ve seen that too. You loving her. Her loving you. It could work out, you know.” She reasoned.

Jasper scoffed frustratedly. The vampire next to him was his best friend. He would’ve thought that she would’ve known him better than that. “Alice. I’m not going to single handedly doom her to eternal damnation.” He said. It hurt immensely to think about that. To think about a future with her. He selfishly wanted that future, but he also knew that it wasn’t the easy way out for Camila.

It would complicate everything for her, and he didn’t know if she would willingly make that gamble. She would lose her friends. Her family. Not only this, but she would have to live through knowing that they would mourn her death. Because that would be the only way. To let everyone think that she had died. So he shut that thought down, pushing that small glimpse of hope out of him mind.

——————

January 26th, 2005

Camila was thankful that Jasper had left by the time she had finished in the bathroom, relieved to avoid him for just a bit, to be able to figure out what she was going to tell him. In truth, she hadn’t come up with any excuses, and deep down she knew that she would end up begging him to keep her secret to himself by the end of it.

Nerves settled in her chest as her mother’s mini van pulled up to the front of the school. Deep breaths. It would all be okay. She stepped out of the vehicle, sucking in a breath of cold air. As she made her way to the building, carefully avoiding the sheets of ice on the ground, all of a sudden, she felt a cold hand on the small of her back. Her feet slipped out from underneath her as the hand caught her mid fall.

She looked up, seeing the face of the one person she had been actively trying to avoid. Of course, just her luck. “Jesus. You scared me.” She said breathlessly.

Jasper looked at her, a playful smirk adorning his face. “Actually, my name is Jasper, darlin’.” He joked. There was that damn name again. That deep southern drawl that sent heat straight to her cheeks.

Despite his joking, he was in a very serious mood. He was determined to have this conversation, not wanting to delay it any further. He had thought about it all night, and didn’t want to wait any longer. “Do you want to skip with me today?” He asked.

Camila looked over to him, anxious, but knowing that it was best to get this conversation over with and out of the way. She nodded lightly, allowing him to lead her back to his own car.

They drove in silence, Camila looking out of the passenger window at the greenery blurring past. He had promised to go and buy her breakfast, wanting to ease her anxiety as much as he could. So they weaved their way through the small town to the only diner open at that time.

The tension was thick in the air between them as the car pulled in front of the small cafe. The anxiety radiating from her was beginning to put Jasper on edge as well, so as soon as the car was in park, he jumped out, rushing to her side to open the door for her. Silently, they made their way into the restaurant, sitting in at a small table in a far corner in attempts to find some sense of privacy.

They sat there for a moment, quiet, Camila fidgeting with her rings to distract herself. Jasper’s mind whirled with thoughts. He had so much time to think about what he would say to her, but now that she was sat there in front of him, he was lost for words. He didn’t know where to begin, so he decided to jump straight to the point. “So…” He trailed off awkwardly, Camila’s eyes refusing to meet his own. “You’re sick.”

Camila finally looked up at him, her face void of any emotions. He had said it as a statement, not a question. She didn’t know if it was better of worse, him knowing already, but either way, he had figured it out and this was what she would be left to deal with. “It’s pretty pathetic. I couldn’t even keep that a secret for a week.” She said scoffing, looking down at her hands once again

Jasper’s eyebrows threaded together in confusion. “Why exactly did you want to keep that a secret?” He asked, trying to not be rude, but curiosity winning the fight.

Sadness began to spread from where she was seated, however, the blank expression remained. “People change when they know you’re dying.” She said simply, tears beginning to well in her eyes. “I’m sick of the sympathy, because that’s all they’ll give me.” She said, her eyes dropping back to the pealing lamination of the cafe’s menu.

“I just want a normal life. Nothing spectacular, just normal, but that clearly isn’t in the cards for me anymore. Given the lack of longevity of my life, why would I want to spend the small remainder of it smothered by the pity of others? That’s far from normal, it’s fucking suffocating.” She rambled sniffling slightly as she shook the thoughts from her head.

She refused to cry in front of him. She didn’t want to cry anymore. “Sorry.” She muttered, knowing it wasn’t fair to pour all of that out to him. But he had asked, so it was okay, right?

He sat there for a moment, debating whether or not he should manipulate her emotions. He hated the sight of her upset. He hated feeling the pain that she was feeling. Knowing how things that other people had put her through had left her hurting so bad. “Well, your secret is safe with me… and my family I guess.” He said.

She looked over to him, not convinced of his words. “I promise, okay?…Look, we have our own secrets and we know first hand how important is to keep them.” He reassured. He knew it probably wasn’t the wisest thing to elude to their supernatural tendencies, but he really didn’t care anymore. If she found out, she found out. It made it that much easier to give her the option to live later on. If you could even call it living.

Camila didn’t care to focus on what their secret could possibly be in that moment. She only cared about his promise and the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks.” She muttered softly, looking deep into his amber eyes.

Jasper smiled gently. “It was never my secret to tell, Darlin’.” He said.

She let out a groan, burring her face in her hands as heat began to creep up her neck. “You and that damn word.” She chided.

He laughed lightly. “What? You don’t like it?” He asked teasingly, knowing from looking at her bright red cheeks that she did in fact like it. He had been so distracted from her reaction to his words that he hadn’t even noticed the waitress that was walking over to their table until she was only a few steps away. He looked up, giving a small smile to the woman before turning his attention back to the blushing girl in front of him.

The woman cleared her throat. “What can I get for you two?” She asked politely, as the burn in his throat intensified from her close proximity.

Vaguely, he was aware of Camila speaking, giving her order to the woman. His focus was weaning as he tried to concentrate on controlling his thirst. Only when Camila called his name did he shake away his thoughts. “Sorry, what?” He asked.

“What can I get you, sweetie?” The woman asked lightly.

Jasper gulped, thinking things through quickly. Did he want to even try to put up a front of portraying a human? Alice’s words rang through his head. ‘Less than a year.’ She had said.And he decided, fuck it. He would be his most authentic self, and she would find out in her own time. “Nothing for me, thanks.” He answered politely.

His eyes landed back on Camila as the waitress let them know that she would put in her order, her footsteps slowly fading away. “You’re not getting anything?” Camila asked expectantly, feeling a bit awkward that she would be the only one eating.

He smiled at her, biting back the urge to tell her his normal lies. “I don’t really eat.” He said, his eyes meeting hers.

She nodded slowly, she of course understood. After being diagnosed she had lost the majority of her appetite, not looking forward to the nausea that would follow after a large meal. However, the look of mischief in his eyes said more. Like she was missing the point of his words. Like there was some kind of inside joke and she found herself sinking deeper and deeper into his eyes. Then it hit her. “Your eyes.” She said suddenly. “They’re really dark. They were almost gold before.”

He clenched his jaw slightly, pushing himself to not look away from her. The waitress’ blood had no doubt caused his eyes to darken in hunger, and he hoped it wouldn’t scare her away. But still, he pushed on, knowing that the more truth that he offered her the faster she would piece the puzzle together. The more time they would have together. No hiding. “They do that.” He stated.

Camila sent him a small smile. Yet again there was that little voice in the back of her head, telling her that there was something more to his words. But she wouldn’t question it. Not today. Not when she was too busy being relieved that he had promised to keep her secret. “Thanks for the food.” She said, smile still lingering on her lips.

Jasper couldn’t help but beam back at her, only hoping that the sight of his teeth wouldn’t scare her away like he knew that they should. “Of course, Darlin'. Need to make sure you’re fed.” He said, smirking slightly as he heard the sputtering of her heart at that ‘damn word’ again. Yeah she definitely liked it. “And I thought it may help with the mental distress of this whole conversation.” He admitted.

She bit her lip bashfully at his words. Here she was thinking that was so skilled at hiding her emotions when apparently she had been wearing them on her sleeve the entire time. “So it was that obvious, huh?”

He snickered lightly. “The crippling anxiety? Yeah. I guess I’m just good at reading people, you could say.” He smirked, looking down from her eyes momentarily as he shifted slightly in his seat. It was going to take some getting used to, being so open about himself around a human when he was used to being closed off completely.

“Like an empath.”

His eyes shot back up to her as his mind reeled at her words. He wasn’t sure if she was serious or joking, but either way, he knew it was okay. The end goal was for her to know, so there was no use in panicking at what she had said. He swallowed thickly, pushing a smile back on his face. “Yeah… exactly like that.”

——————

Unfortunately, as much as she wished that she could spend the whole day alone with Jasper, Camila knew that they would have to return to the school as they would be taking a biology field trip during the second half of the day. After a few hours of hogging the small table all to themselves, laughing, smiling, and just overall enjoying each other’s company, they knew it was time to leave, so they reluctantly returned to the car.

She hadn’t exactly realized how long they had been gone until they pulled into the school parking lot, seeing the two school busses already parked in front. Students swarmed the busses as they murmured excitedly. Not for the field trip itself, but for the opportunity to miss the rest of their classes for the day. Parking, Camila quickly stepped out of the vehicle, trying to ignore the stares of others around them as they realized the two had been together off campus just minutes before.

Jasper fell in stride by her side as they joined the rest of the group. “Make sure I get your permission slips.” Mr Molina yelled over the crowd of students, ushering them onto the buses. Glancing over and seeing Alice watching expectantly, Jasper lead Camila over to her, knowing that she had expected him to introduce her officially to the human.

“Camila, this is my sister. She wanted to meet you officially.” He said, slightly agitated that his time alone with her had come to an end.

Alice smiled brightly at the girl. “Hi, I’m Alice.” She said cheerfully as she pulled the girl in for a hug. Camila tried to hold back her shock as she slowly lifted her arms to reciprocate her hug. She wasn’t uncomfortable, in fact the hug was actually quite nice, but still a bit unexpected. To Camila’s surprise, the girls skin held no warmth, the coolness contracting nicely with her feverish body.

Jasper rolled his eyes at his adopted sister. “Alice.” He chided, slightly annoyed the display in front of him. He knew he had nothing to worry about when it came to Alice, but it still made him oddly jealous. “You’re going to smother her.” He mumbled irritatedly. He of course knew what Alice was doing. She had no doubt seen what he had been not so subtly trying to hint at and this hug was her way of helping him. Showing off the lack of warmth in her touch would be just another clue to the puzzle.

The immortal girl pulled away from the embrace finally, blinding smile still present. “Don’t worry Jazz, I can already see we’re going to be great friends.” She said cheerfully. “Now I’m going to go grab a seat by Edward, I’ll see you two there.” She said sending the two a wink before rushing off onto the bus.

Jasper sighed, turning to face the frail girl next to him. “Sorry about her she gets a bit… excited.” He said.

“It’s okay, she’s cute.” Camila said, snickering lightly. She really didn’t mind, even if the whole situation still weirded her out a bit. Alice was clearly a very sweet and genuine person, and if she was willing to be her friend, even knowing that Camila would die sooner rather than later, she would gladly grasp at that opportunity.

She had plenty of friends in the past leave her because of her illness. The happiness had been sucked out of their friendships, the only thing the were able to focus on being her cancer. They treated her as if she couldn’t enjoy what little bit of her life she had left just because she knew it was ending. She didn’t want the constant sympathy anymore, the constant sadness and if Alice was willing to put herself in that situation knowingly, she could tell that they would become great friends.

Jasper smiled, feeling her happiness and comfort. He was glad to see that she hadn’t become overwhelmed, although he should’ve known better than to doubt Alice. He should’ve known that she would say the exact right words. She always did. The smile didn’t waver from his face as he lead Camila onto the bus.

——————

January 28th, 2005

The end of Camila’s first week had finally arrived. Exhaustion began to set in, luck being in store as lunch had finally arrived. Camila sat there at her usual table, trying to muster the strength and appetite to eat her food that was beginning to grow cold. Twirling the thin strands of pasta around her fork, she brought the bite to mouth and began to chew the unsavory food. Grimacing slightly, she resisted the urge to spit the mushed up pasta out. She needed the nutrients, she knew this, but that didn’t make it any easier to actually eat the food.

Looking up from her tray, her eyes connected with Jasper’s. He gave her a small wave, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. The two hadn’t talked much since the impromptu cafe trip a few days previous, having been busy with their classes. She had seen him in calculus, as usual, but of course as always, by the end of the school day she was worn out and just ready for sleep.

“Camila?” A voice said, abruptly breaking her gaze away from those Amber eyes. She looked to the owner expectantly, waiting for them to continue. “La Push, baby. You in?” Eric asked.

Her eyebrows quirked in question, not at all understanding what he was getting at. She looked over to Bella wondering if she understood. She looked just as confused. “Should I know what that means?” Bella asked Camila.

She laughed lightly, glad to see that she wasn’t the only one confused. “Your guess is as good as mine.” She answered, looking back to the boy for an explanation.

“La Push beach, down on the Quileute rez. We’re all going tomorrow afternoon. Big swell coming in.” Mike explained.

Eric beamed a bright smile. “And I don’t just surf the internet.” He joked lamely. Camila snickered, shaking her head in shame at the joke.

Jessica scoffed. “Eric, you stood up once. On a foam board.” She clarified, rolling her eyes.

“There’s whale watching, too. Come with.” Angela said, trying to convince the two girls to accompany the group on their trip.

Eric nudged Camila on the shoulder, smile unwavering. “La Push, baby.” He said again.

Bella let out a groan. “I’ll go if you stop saying that.” She bargained, laughing lightly.

Eric smiled in success, turning back to Camila. “What about you Cam?” He asked.

Camila lulled it over in her mind. She knew that it probably wasn’t the best idea to go, considering that it was the middle of the winter in Washington, and most likely, her parents wouldn’t let her go even if she wanted to. She shook her head, an apologetic look on her face. “Sorry, I should probably stay home. I’ve got a bunch of homework to finish.” She lied, trying her best to sound believable.

Eric’s smile dropped at her words, a frown replacing it. “Awww, can’t you just do your homework later?” He pushed. She shook her head in response, giving an apologetic smile, slightly annoyed that he wouldn’t just take no for an answer.

Lunch dragged on as she slowly ate away at her food. The daily trip to the cafeteria was like a blessing and curse, she had thought. While it was great to get a brief break from the physical and mental exertion of the day, it also made it that much harder to seem normal to everyone else around her. Any other time, she would push off eating, usually having the best luck with taking supplement pills and drinking protein shakes, those making her the least nauseas. However, she knew that would look odd to her new friends. If she stuck to only those options, it would be only a matter of time before they noticed something was up. With her luck, they would think she had an eating disorder or something.

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. She pulled herself to a stand, as she grabbed her picked over food tray. She pushed her aching muscles forwards the cafeteria doors, dumping her tray into one of the awaiting trash cans when a tall dark silhouette rushed to her side.

“Camila.” Tyler greeted, slinging an arm around her shoulders. The action caused pain to shoot down her spine and she had to bite her tongue in an attempt to stop herself from wincing. Tyler had made a point that week to be as friendly as possible, and even though more than just the pain of his action was making her uncomfortable, she didn’t want to come off rude.

“Tyler.” She greeted back, trying her best to keep the grimace off of her face. He was just being nice and friendly, that was all.

“I was wondering.” He started, pausing for what she could only imagine was dramatic effect. “Prom?” He asked somewhat randomly, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Camila’s mind reeled. Was that really how he was going to ask? She wouldn’t have said yes anyway, not being interested in going to prom at all, much less with Tyler Crowley, but that really was a terrible way of asking. She got along with him well, sure, but she didn’t want to date him.

“Can’t.” She said, voice filled with fake regret. She tried to quickly come up with an excuse for her denial. She definitely couldn’t use homework again. “I… already have plans with someone. Not prom related.” She said awkwardly.

The smile dropped from his face, disappointment replacing it, clear as day. “With who? You can’t reschedule? I mean it’s prom.” He tried to reason.

Fuck. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Clearly, she wasn’t very good at coming up with excuses and clearly, these boys weren’t good at just taking no for an answer. A normal person would’ve just taken the rejection and left, but of course Tyler and Eric had to be persistent. She thought quickly of someone who she could explain the whole situation to the easiest. “Jasper. Do you know him?” She asked casually. Surely Jasper would understand why she had added him in on her scheme, especially since he had seemed so respectful in keeping her secret in tact previously.

Tyler’s eyes widened slightly. “Jasper Hale? Yeah I know of him.” He said incredulously. What was she doing with that weirdo? He had seen the two together before the biology field trip, but had thought it was some weird fluke, but now she was scheduling dates with him?

——————

“I didn’t know we had plans for prom night.” Jasper said casually once she had sat herself down at their shared table in calculus later that day.

She groaned at his words. How had he possibly heard? Did Tyler talk to him? Surely not. She knew the majority of the school would never willingly put themselves in a conversation with anyone from the family, since they usually seemed very intimidating. So that only left him hearing the conversation, and there was no way that had happened. She had seen him across the room, much too far away, when Tyler had came up to her. Maybe he had some kind of super hearing?

She pushed the rushing thoughts aside, trying not to get too caught up in the mystery. “Sorry.” She murmured. “I just needed an excuse out.” She reasoned. Jasper of course knew the reason that she had came up with the ‘date’ in the first place, but he did find himself slightly disappointed that she did not, in fact, want to go on a date with the ‘Cullen weirdo’.

“It’s okay.” He reassured her, because it was okay. He knew that she didn’t mean it maliciously, just knowing that he knew the truth of why she couldn’t go. “Out of curiosity though, is it just because of you know what that you said no? Or would you have said yes otherwise?” He asked.

He couldn’t help himself from asking. The question had been racing through his mind since lunch and he knew it was because of jealousy. That much was obvious, hell, he was jealous when Alice hugged her. However, he also knew that he had no right to be jealous. She in no way belonged to him, even if Alice had seen them together as mates. In reality, she didn’t owe him anything, and as much as it pained him to watch, if that’s how she wanted to spend the remainder of her life, he knew he would support her through it every step of the way.

Camila blushed lightly in embarrassment, causing the burn in his throat to intensify slightly. “Well, more than that, I guess.” She said. “Three reasons really. One, you know what. Two, he asked me in a terrible way and I’m not at all interested anyway. Three, no dating for me. It’s one of few rules I have for myself.” She murmured lowly, trying to keep her voice down so others wouldn’t hear her.

His heart, if it had still been beating, would’ve leapt at the news that she didn’t not like Tyler in that way. However, almost immediately after, his chest ached for her. He could feel her sadness with the confession and it pained him to realize that she was afraid of growing too close to someone. He wanted to press the topic, to sooth her discomfort, but he knew that now was not the right time.

Jasper sat up a bit straighter in his chair, an idea coming to mind. “Would you maybe want to hang out tomorrow? We could go somewhere or stay in, whatever you want.” He suggested, nerves filling his chest once more.

As Camila sat there, mulling the invite over in her mind, she took note that the anxiety she had felt when invited to the beach, was nowhere to be seen. Jasper made her comfortable, and she wasn’t sure if that was because of him knowing her secret, or something else entirely.

What she did know, is that she definitely wanted to get to know him more. To figure out what made him so different from the rest. To piece together all of the confusing details that he had shared with her.

She sucked in a breath and spoke. “I’d love to.”

Next Chapter

Tag List:

@itsmytimetoodream @jasper-the-beloved @parkchaeyoung1997 @bobaopal @izzyisstuff @soyeonrai @just-browsing101 @demirunner @dkbj14 @iloveramensm @imyelenasexual @bella7866 @ropickle

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sageandred · 7 months ago

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Some minor things I'm thinking about/predictions for season 3~

-some more (pretty unedited) things I think could happen + predictions I don't necessarily hope to happen; + talking out some frustrations I personally had (if u don't want to read anything partially negative)

Missy & Amerie friendship. It would be good to expand to some less visited friendships. We got a hint of Amerie & Missy once again and I could see them talking even more nxt szn.

Sasha and Quinni are going to be working together nxt szn, and I can already see how the writers might try to rekindle something, but I don't want that, obviously. I could see them making Sasha develop feelings again only for Quinni to turn her down or it could be an opportunity for Sasha to actually apologize after some reflection as they continue to go their separate ways romantically.

Ant has to find out Harper also made the map, right? (that's the direction it's heading in??)

I don't care either way, but if Rowan wasn't just a 1 season and done type of character, I could see them trying to explore a mental health storyline, and separate from that make him more likeable/building friendships with anyone but Amerie.

Critiques of the Season/What I Hope Going Forward

They really missed some opportunities with Harper. It's totally valid for 2 childhood besties to grow apart in some ways and come back with an even greater and more mature connection. Instead, they just had Darren and Quinni adopt her into the group when I wish they would've spent a season of her developing her own friendships and building up her relationships that will be beneficial going forward.

which brings me to my points: I want Harper and Amerie to spend some time apart next season. I don't want it to be dramatic and I don't want them to have a fallout. They can actually be friends without being attached at the hip, but I don't want the s1 trio to be disrupted when I think that relationship is very special (sorry if this sounds harsh), and feels more organic than Harper's outside of the one that's developing with Cash.

Speaking of relationships: Ant & Harper feels underdeveloped to me. They could be a great couple. I wish they spent more time this season giving them individual arcs, but I think next season they kind of need to go through something dramatic to have the kind of break-through I'm wanting from their characters. They're kind of boring to me rn (I'm so sorry Harthony fans). They could end up together or not; I'm just not sold on their story yet.

New couples-I like the development stage of new couples/couples you don't expect. Give Quinni a gf, ofc. Switch up some of the dynamics. Relationships can be a means to another end, and it doesn't have to = the previous being bad. I don't want a love triangle, though; let them grow without the drama.

They could show the journey of Missy dealing with a toxic man, or they could show Spider/Missy grow together (I really don't care); I just want development for both of them individually and their own separate arcs regardless (especially Missy-he did have his own large arc this season). I actually think it would be cool to show the slow effects of how things add up and trauma causing some unhealthy behaviors with Spider (it doesn't have to make him bad; he's like 18 and anyone could grow from a failed high school relationship/become a really great person, but I just don't feel awe when I see their scenes...personally).

I didn't add this point with them on my other post, but I kind of want Darren and Cash to each have new romances/flings. I know there is love there, but I think they need to find themselves independent of one another. Their relationship very much feels like they grew up together and prematurely decided they belong together what with Cash's long secret crush (which is fine, but..); it is absolutely cute, though their incompatibility and continuous communication problems need to be explored/they need to mature.

#heartbreak high spoilers #heartbreak high #draft #missy beckett #sasha so #quinni gallagher jones #amerie wadia #anthony vaughn #ant vaughn #harper mclean #rowan callaghan #anti spider white #so the stans don't come for me #anti harper mclean #darren rivers #cash piggott

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epickiya722 · 8 months ago

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You know what, season 2 broke a lot of our hearts, didn't it? Well, here's some moments I thought were funny, heartwarming and just off the wall to lighten things up!

Starting with the Hidden Inventory/Premature Death Arc and if y'all want, I'll do a part 2 for the Shibuya Incident!

NOTE: I may have talked about some of these moments before in other posts.

Utahime, just all of Utahime in the first episode. She's awesome, I adore her. "SHOOOOKOOOO!!"

Chibi Satoru and Suguru. Especially the part of Suguru walking up the stairs as the others were talking. "Urusei."

"SENSEI, I SAY WE STOP THIS HUNT FOR THE CULPRIT!"

"SO IT WAS YOU!"

"Blegh!"

Shoko dipping out.

Suguru was really about to jump Satoru with a curse!!!

The fact that Suguru even went from wearing regular-waist pants to high-waist ones from manga to anime is glorious. Whoever decided that knew Suguru was meant to be a fashion icon.

Digimon

That WALK!!! Y'all, those are Special Grade sorcerers!

Suguru scowling Satoru on his behavior, also... "Satorrruuu~" Did he have to purr? That was a purr!

I love Satoru Gojo, I do. But with those glasses, he really do be looking like one of the Three Blind Mice from Shrek.

I don't know how but Toji somehow made saying he took his wife's last name scary. Like, he was very intimidating that it bypass me the first time of how cute it is that he loved Mamaguro a lot.

They actually added Suguru fixing himself a cup of tea in the anime!! This teenager really had that man captured by some Kissing Curse, told him he couldn't be a rice farmer and had himself some tea. Iconic.

Ooh, Satoru didn't have to do Bayer like that. But I applaud him for taking such a selfie!

Shoko trying to explain how RCT works actually irritated Satoru... which is rare!

Riko actually was the first to defeat Satoru. Did him dirty!! Suguru actually laughs at Satoru getting slapped while in the anime he looks shocked. Either way, his reaction is funny as hell.

"You look like a liar! And what's up with those bangs?" Then Riko got jumped for that!

Suguru's bangs ain't that bad, come on!

Knowing how Suguru turns out, it's something he's the one to tell Kuroi that she's Riko's family. Years later, he had his own "family". It's actually heartwarming he tells her that.

That old man didn't even get touched yet and he was already seeing his dead dog from 50 years ago!! Man's life flashed right before his eyes and he even says that! The whooping Suguru put on him was so bad that he was having visions!!

The one time Satoru is shown to have some sort of charm is with a bunch of school girls. The teacher should be locked up though.

Baghead man really had on the All Might cosplay.

Toji didn't have to say a word to that man and he still scared him shitless. Alright, Toji, I see you being all scary!

Satoru really be carrying kids like they're bags of groceries. Did it with Yuji, he did it with Riko.

"I failed!"

Kuroi being rescued! Satoru really stomped on those guys!

The plane scene. Satoru checking each passenger all with a glare. Meanwhile, Suguru was just chilling with a book, sitting there all pretty.

The whole beach scene!! "IT'S A SEA CUCUMBER!!"

Teen Kento having that hairstyle and his dynamic with Yu is just too adorable. He looks like he has Wii music playing in his head all day. Such a good kid!!

I cannot believe that DIO's VA is also Toji's. It's funnier when Toji has had beef with Satoru as a kid and DIO has had generational beef with the Joestars.

I just know that Worm Curse was having the time of its life on Toji's back while he was jumping around and being tossed about. Also, Toji smiling the whole time while fighting.

Suguru actually has mad hops! Did y'all not see that long ass jump?!

Squid gun. Speaking of, where in the hell did all those squids come from?! I need a story on that one!

Toji talking about how he fights for a while before Suguru tells him to shut up and due.

"Am I pretty?" "Sorry, you're not my type." Okay, well, damn.

The Worm Curse pretty much "NOPE" at Suguru.

That kick was fucking personal, I just know it! Also, the fact that Toji actually thought about the curses inhabiting Suguru's body is something. Especially, given later. I actually question that when Suguru dies in JJK 0, did Satoru have to deal with any curses?

Toji remembering Megumi.

Also, if you pay attention to the Worm, that thing sometimes matches Toji's expressions. It's like Reki and his headband (SK8 the Infinity).

Satoru standing all menacingly outside for Toji.

"Is he high?" Well, given that a few moments later he'll be floating in the air.

The fact that people have described Toji's death as "turned into the Apple logo" to "the Rengoku treatment". Y'all are out of pocket! And he looked so disappointed, too.

"Mommy... hug me..." That scene is just...

"I like girls with healthy appetites!" Yu, never change!!

Yuki's reaction to what Suguru tells her about what he has heard about her. "She's pouting."

"I heard you the first time. That's why I said 'huh'!" Bro was just that mad.

Shoko. Just Shoko when she and Suguru meet in Shinjuku.

Heartbreaking as the scene is, you had one lanky ass teenager looking deranged on one end and the other with the "I'm going to the store real quick" fit on having this fight in front of KFC. Becomes even funnier when you remember the slogan "finger lickin' good". What does this have to do with anything? Think about Yuji.

One, where did Suguru get the robes from? Two, given he was born the following year in February after Satoru, if I did my calculations right... Suguru really started a cult at 17. No wonder there were objections. After he killed that guy, I'm sure everyone was like "oh, he's unhinged".

Okay, but the head rubs he gave the twins were so cute!! Look, they may been raised as killers, but it's sweet that they were Suguru's family. He adored those girls and they adored him!

The first meeting between Megumi and Satoru!!

Satoru waking up and seeing his students was just so heartwarming!!!

#i had this in my drafts since February oh my gosh #just kiya's thoughts #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #premature death arc #hidden inventory arc #geto suguru #gojo satoru #haibara yu #ieiri shoko #iori utahime #nanami kento #fushiguro toji #amanai riko #tsukumo yuki

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sirfrogsworth · 8 months ago

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I really don't have the energy to fight with TERFs tonight, so I am not going to reply directly.

But this annoyed me.

I said this...

And they said this...

And then they highlighted this...

And I think they are confusing this to mean 776 per year?

If you look at the article they linked to, they break it down...

I feel like when recalling a statistic from memory, "200 or so" is close enough. I'm sorry I didn't memorize that perfectly.

Okay, what about the age range?

This is also a little misleading because later in the article it says...

"Some insurers cover the procedure for gender dysphoria patients as young as 13."

These numbers were based on insurance claims and they didn't actually have a breakdown of what ages got the surgery. They just knew that patients as young as 13 *could* get the surgery paid for by *some* insurers.

That does not mean a doctor would be willing to do it or that a patient that young had top surgery.

I don't remember if there is an official breakdown by age out there, but when I researched this previously most doctors said they would only operate on 16 and 17 year olds. And the youngest person verified to have surgery mentioned in the article was a single 15 year old.

It sounds like that was a single case and not the norm.

Usually before that age puberty blockers would be used to prevent development. I'd have to imagine if there are patients younger than 15 requiring top surgery they probably had macromastia or premature puberty.

I probably should have said 250 or so 16 & 17 year olds.

I still believe the majority are 17 but I will admit I wasn't in full research mode when writing that post and should have been more accurate. Honestly I didn't expect it to go viral and thought the normal 100 or so people who like my posts would be the extent of my audience. I had to update the post with sources about Tommy John surgery due to it blowing up and I guess I should have sourced the top surgery stats as well.

That said, aside from a single 15 year old, I have not seen evidence of anyone younger getting top surgery. I'm not saying it has never happened. I just think it would be rare enough to be an outlier rather than the norm.

In conclusion, I do not think my numbers were "wrong."

Definitely not to the extent this person implied.

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honey-crypt · 5 months ago

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a/n: i love this! i'm gonna do sfw for now cuz i'm low on the nsfw juice but i will try to write a nsfw part in the future so this can act as its own part or a standalone :D also sorry for prematurely posting your request, i got butter fingers

★ elliott & the farmer - the first of many ★

★ elliott had prepped for this day at least a month in advance, he prides himself on his planning skills (except when it comes to his novel but that's beside the point)

★ he wakes the farmer up with breakfast in bed, it's a buffet of eggs, bacon, toast, and so on with his homemade coffee on the side, and completes it with a bombardment of smooches

★ the farmer is a bit groggy and out of it when this happens but eventually reciprocates the kisses with a sleepy smile

★ elliott informs them about the agenda for day, a variety of fun activities for the both of them to do together, such as a private dinner at the saloon and get their painting done by leah

★ the farmer asks elliott about the farm responsibilities and he ensures them that he has it covered

★ cue the farmer peering out the window and seeing penny, jas, vincent, jodi, kent, sam, marnie, and shane working on the farm

★ elliott explains that he convinced penny to do it as an educational experience and she invited the kids' families to help out as a part educational, part family bonding day

★ the farmer, relieved, gestures for elliott to join them back in bed and the two share the breakfast that he prepared

★ after breakfast, elliott takes the farmer down to the beach and to the docks, where the pair enjoy one another's company while their bare feet and legs dangle off the dock's end

★ willy stops by and hands elliott the items he requested earlier in the week, some hemp yarn and a drill

★ noticing the farmer's confusion, he explains that he thought it would be a cute idea to collect seashells on the beach and make one another bracelets, similar to how they worn their mermaid pennant necklaces as a sign of their matrimony

★ the farmer didn't think they could fall even deeper in love with elliott, but time after time, they've been proven wrong and this was just one of the many moments

★ the married couple head off to the beach and begin combing the sands for seashells

★ the farmer and elliott each pick the other person 3 seashells and fasten the shells through the hemp yarn before presenting their counterpart with the finished bracelet

★ elliott's bracelet had a scotch bonnet, a dog head triton, and a partridge tun while the farmer's had a true tulip, an angular trition, and an apple murex

★ they took turns tying the bracelet around their partner’s wrist and exchanged a kiss once they both had their bracelets on

★ next on the agenda was by cindersap woods, where elliott and the farmer found leah with painting supplies in hand and standing by an ornate bench

★ elliott and the farmer listen to leah’s directions, the couple holding one another’s hand while they sat down on the bench as their pose

★ it took all of the farmer’s mental energy not to try and move a muscle, the slightest twitch earning them a side eye from leah

★ it felts like hours went by before the farmer and elliott were allowed to move and get off the bench, their butts sore from sitting for so long

★ leah shows the pair the painting and both of them are in awe at how beautiful it is, the farmer didn’t realize how much of a talented painter leah truly is and compliments her on such an incredible piece of art

★ elliott also shares his praises about the painting and thanks leah for doing this for them

★ leah informs the pair that the painting will be ready for transport by tomorrow or so, it needed time to dry off

★ with the painting session all finished and bidding goodbye to leah, elliott takes the farmer off to the saloon for their dinner reservation

★ gus greets them with smiles and directs them into the private dining space, taking their dinner orders

★ once they’re situated at the dining table and waiting on their food, elliott sets a neatly wrapped gift in front of the farmer

★ the farmer chuckles and does the same, setting down an emerald color box in front of elliott

★ the farmer tells elliott to open his anniversary present first since he had already done so much for their anniversary

★ elliott understands their logic and unwraps his gift, revealing it to be a new set of duck feather pens and squid ink, completed with a small note

★ elliott reads the note from the farmer and in TEARS, as the note sings his praises and how much the farmer adores and loves him

★ the farmer wipes away his tears and gives him angel kisses, thanking him for giving them such a wonderful anniversary celebration

★ elliott laughs through his tears and by then, gus returns with their meals (elliott - crab cakes, the farmer - spaghetti and meatballs)

★ as the dinner goes on, the farmer unwraps their gift from elliott and finds that they were given a new set of boots and a journal

★ the farmer peers into the journal and sees that it’s a collective of poems and entries from elliott that span from the night of their wedding to now

★ the farmer can’t help but sob at elliott’s love for them, how dedicated and caring he is

★ the two of them quickly finish dinner and take some of gus’s famous pink cake home for dessert

★ back at the farmhouse, the farmer embraces elliott and cries happily about how much of an amazing anniversary celebration this day was

★ elliott peppers their face with kisses and tells them that their anniversary isn’t over just yet, as they lead them towards the small pond on the farm

★ lights flash and the farmer sees that someone had decorated the area with fairy lights and flowers, soft classical music playing in the background

★ elliott extends a hand to the farmer and asks them to dance, to which the farmer gives an astounding ‘yes’

★ as the music plays, the married couple waltzes the night away, almost identical to their first dance as spouses

#honey crypt babbles #stardew valley #sdv #stardew #sdv elliott #stardew valley elliott #stardew elliott

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