#i was originally gonna post these along with the ask i answered about him a while back | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

idkdudethisisntpermanent · 23 days ago

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Over the Limit - pt.v

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v

summary: An unlikely group forms—did someone say road trip?

word count: 10.8k

a/n: It's officially been a month since I've started posting Over the Limit on Tumblr! Thank you everyone for the overwhelming amount of support💚

————

How are weekends meant to look for the average 20-year old? Finally sleeping in after having a week of 8am classes? Scrambling to your job that funds all your stupid vices? Maybe it was stressing over picking the sluttiest outfit you can wear since you had a frat party and needed all eyes on you?

That realm of life seemed impossible for you. When you’re from Brimstone you don’t have the privilege of worrying about those things—no, instead on this fine Saturday morning you’re groggily rubbing your eyes open at 6am, while Hunter is panicking about the land lord who’s five seconds away from knocking the door down.

“Dude just answer,” you say annoyed, you could barely sleep last night and the last thing you needed was this antsy land lord playing drums on the door.

“I fucking can’t!” Hunter whisper yells, crouching down to your position on the floor where you had slept the night prior. “He’s gonna hand me an eviction notice when he sees me!”

And that is how your weekend begins when you’re from Brimstone.

After ignoring the loud knocks for some time, the land lord left grumbling angry curses at Hunter.

“So you’re backed up on two months of rent?” you ask, learning the information from the man that was once outside the door.

The older guy sighs with a nod, “Yeah, you know how it is. I haven’t been getting much races lately. I should’ve put a wager on you when you raced that Blond douche,” he says with a hollow chuckle.

You frown. You know exactly how it is. It’s not rare for you to walk into the garage and hear the whispers of unhappy Sinners about their pay cut.

Race clubs had their own economy. The quickest way for racers to make money was by paying an entry fee to compete, with the total pool going to the winning racer or crew. Crews like the Sinners also occasionally hosted parties, collecting entry fees to boost their earnings.

But gambling was the bread and butter—side bets, wagers, and deals made on the outcome of races. Anyone could place a bet, whether it was on their own crew or against them, but most of the money came from outsiders: third-party crews or devoted townspeople.

And then there was the fastest, most dangerous way to make cash.

“Didn’t you have a sponsor?” you asked.

Hunter's jaw tightened, and a shadow of bitterness crossed his face. "Yeah, I did. But things went south," he muttered. "Sponsors aren't what they used to be. They're too caught up in politics, or they want a cut so big it's not worth the payout."

You nodded, understanding that finding and keeping a sponsor was a double-edged sword. While they offered financial stability and access to better equipment, they came with strings attached—controlling interests, unwanted appearances, and expectations that sometimes choked a racer's freedom. You had to be in at least the top 5% of racer's to even be considered by a sponsor, and Hunter was just that good. But that lifestyle was clearly not worth it for him. You don't blame him, you've heard the stories of sponsor's having crazy asks for their prodigies.

"You'd be a sponsor's dream you know?" he suddenly says.

You quirk a brow up, not knowing how so.

"You're a great racer, you get along well with the rich, you're submissive—

"I am not submissive!"

————

After some more banter with Hunter you finally proceed with your morning and freshen up. As you're standing in front of the bathroom sink, wondering how you're going to brush your teeth, you noticed two toothbrushes in the holder.

Hunter lived alone.

Not knowing the origins of the second toothbrush and not willing to risk it, you opted to brush your teeth using your finger, and splashed some cool water on your face, trying to chase away the exhaustion and pull yourself together.

As you stared at your reflection in the mirror, a chill slid down your spine. Shock had a strange way of altering a person’s expression—jaw locked, eyes hardened, gaze steely. The revelations of last night were etched into your face like battle scars.

You were scared. Everything you heard last night was real—things that will directly impact you and your loved ones. It wasn’t just some joke, it was real life. And about your father...ever since the revelations of last night, it's been weighing on you—if you should tell your mom about the foul play in her husband’s death. How do you even tell someone that?

Your hands tightened around the edge of the sink, water dripping off your face and pooling on the counter. You thought about how it didn't shock you more to learn that your father’s death was no accident. Did that make you a terrible daughter? You thought of Anton, always armed, always prepared for whatever might come his way. Of course this life was brutal. Your father had been a founder, a leader—how could it not be dangerous?

But who wanted your father dead?

That was rather the question that gnawed at you, digging deeper with every passing second. Who could have wanted him gone, and why? Your fingers clenched the porcelain sink harder, the tremor in your hands matched by the anger coursing through you. And then the tears came undone, streaking down your face and mingling with the water already on the counter.

“Y/n?” Hunter’s voice cut through the fog of your mind, followed by a knock on the bathroom door. “Hey, you okay in there?”

You sucked in a shaky breath, fighting to steady yourself. Now was not the time nor place for breaking down.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you called out, forcing your voice into something resembling normalcy. You wiped your face with the back of your hand and swung the door open. Hunter stood there, a towel draped over his arm, eyes shadowed with worry.

He frowned as you brushed past him, taking the towel and pressing it to your damp face. The silence hung between you.

Hunter’s gaze followed you as you moved, his eyes full of questions. “Y/n, look” he started his voice soft, hesitant, as if he was afraid that speaking too loudly would shatter you. "I don't know what's going on with you. But I know it's a lot. I already know that Jenna is a Viper and now this Ghost Smoke shit. You can talk to me about whatever you're dealing with if you want."

You paused, towel clenched in your fists, staring blankly at the wall. The weight of everything threatened to crush you, but you felt the warmth of Hunter’s hand as he reached out, resting it on your shoulder. That simple touch was enough to crack the fragile shield you’d tried so hard to maintain.

Tears welled up again, this time falling freely. Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out, each one tugging at the raw wound inside you. “Hunter, I don't know what to do.”

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a firm embrace. The warmth and steadiness of him anchored you as you broke down, sobs shaking your frame.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his hand gently rubbing your back. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. You’re not alone.”

The floodgates opened, and you told him everything—how you met Jenna, her request to find dirt on Percy, your dad supposedly wanting out of the Sinners, and the revelation that Bullet and Apex weren’t just names, but legacies tied to betrayal and death. Hunter listened in silence, holding you tight, his own expression darkening with every word.

In that moment, the fear and uncertainty didn’t vanish, but they felt a little more bearable. You had someone who knew, someone who would stand by you.

————

You and Hunter sat side by side on his worn couch, the late morning sun casting a soft light through the window. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable now; it was a shared reprieve after an outpouring of truths.

Hunter leaned back, one arm resting along the back of the couch, the other in the bag of chips he pulled out for you two. Your breakfast. He let out a breath, shaking his head slowly. “So, Jenna came to you with this whole thing about Percy and the Ghost Smoke operation, and you just… jumped in? Talk about submissive.”

You punch his shoulder lightly, and managed a small smile, the relief of finally sharing the truth giving your chest room to breathe. “I didn’t think it would spiral like this,” you admitted. “It was supposed to be simple—find out what Percy was up to, help Jenna. But now, with what we know...”

Hunter’s eyes darkened as he nodded. “It’s more than just racing politics. It’s deeper, more dangerous.” He glanced at you, concern still etched into his features. “And you’re sure Anton has no idea you’re involved?”

The question hung heavy between you, but you felt more grounded now. You nodded. “For now, he doesn’t. But I don’t know how long that will last.”

A sudden thought crossed your mind, and you straightened. “Do you think Mikey knows Jenna is with the Vipers?”

Hunter shrugged, "She give you any reason to think that?"

"She was just... observant man. The other day—when we went on the drive. She remembered the Aston from the footage she saw of me and Jenna. Said something about how it was the car I rolled in with 'my girl' in."

Hunter’s smirk returned, and he nudged you again, playfulness edging out the tension. “Maybe she’s paying close attention because she’s totally into you.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered. “I’m being serious, Hunter.”

“Alright, alright,” Hunter said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But on that note... we need to talk about the Aston.”

You frowned, a hint of confusion crossing your face. “What about it?”

Hunter leaned forward, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by seriousness. “Think about it. We crashed that meeting last night and got caught snooping around. The only lead they have on us is the car. They know we escaped in the AM. If they’re looking for anything, it’ll be that.”

Fuck he was right.

"I say we demolish it. Scrap it for parts or something."

"—no!" you exclaim interrupting his thought. "I'll find a place to have it stashed. Don't worry."

The older guy squinted his eyes in confusion. You were a mechanic, you never got attached to your cars. You knew better than anyone that cars come and go. Yet you couldn't let go of this one.

————

Being a mechanic had its perks, and one of the best was the network of wealthy clientele you’d built over the years. If someone had enough money to buy a custom-built, fully modded car from you, chances were they also had plenty of land—land that could discreetly store a car like yours. Now, you just had to hope their generosity matched the size of their bank accounts.

You stepped out onto the balcony as you scroll through your phone, siffling through your contacts.

"Hmm, maybe John might help me out," you mummer to yourself pressing call.

John was one of your more calm clients. He was the proud new owner of a 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1. You’d delivered the car just over a month ago—the same night Anton nearly gave you a heart attack by pulling a mock robbery, complete with a gun pointed at you. You shook the memory from your mind, focusing instead on the call as it began to ring.

You first engaged with some small talk before you asked him for help. For all you knew he was a sponsor involved in some shady shit, maybe even involved in Ghost Smoke. Is this what paranoia is?

"I hope there's no complaints about the Mustang," you laugh lightly.

"No complaints Y/n."

"Amazing...so I actually need a favour," you said, leaning on the balcony railing. “I’ve got a car I need to tuck away for a while. Somewhere discreet. Think you could help?”

There was a brief pause, then a hum of consideration. “Hmm, yeah, I’ve got a lake house not too far from here. You can stash it there. No one will bother it.”

“Appreciate it. I’ll swing by later today.”

“Anytime kid,” he said before the call ended.

You exhaled, relief washing over you. One less problem to worry about—for now.

————

After letting Hunter know you’d secured a spot for the car, you set out for the address John had texted. The drive felt almost reflective, the Aston Martin humming beneath you like it understood the significance of this moment. Arriving at the secluded lake house, you carefully parked the car— the car that had genuinely started it all for you.

The Uber ride back to Hunter's was quiet, except for occasional small talk with the driver and faint chatter of the radio. You leaned your head against the window, letting the scenery blur as you reflected on everything that had unfolded.

Your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. Hunter’s name flashed on the screen. You swiped to answer.

"Hey," you greeted.

"Hey, where are you?" Hunter's voice was calm but direct.

"In an Uber. On my way back to yours."

"Cool, change of plans. Head to Brenda’s Diner instead."

You frowned, the name clicking in your memory. "Brenda’s? That’s in the next city, like forty minutes away. Why there?"

"Just meet me. We’ll grab breakfast, Hunter said nonchalantly. "I’m almost there already,"

Your confusion deepened, your brows furrowing. "Why are you suddenly all the way out there? And why can’t we eat closer to your place?"

He sighed, "Jenna texted me, okay? She asked me to come here, so I’m here. So just come.”

You blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, what? Jenna texted you? Why does she even have your number?"

Hunter chuckled lightly, clearly amused by your confusion. "Relax, Y/n. Just come here. Who knows, maybe she’ll butter your biscuits or drizzle your pancakes."

"Excuse me—what?" you sputtered, but before you could say more, he hung up, leaving you staring at your phone in disbelief.

You slumped back in the seat, your mind racing. What in the actual hell is going on?

————

“Thank you sir," you say as you get out the Uber. You squint your eyes as you take in the red and yellow sign that said that read Brenda’s. Even the sun shined brighter in this town, from what you knew the town you were currently in—Countsville, wasn’t tainted with race crews and class differences. It was an average suburban town.

You couldn’t help but wonder why Jenna had called you here of all places. Did she have some secret life here? A hidden family? The absurd thought made you chuckle under your breath as you shook your head.

Pulling out your phone, you caught your reflection in the camera and quickly fixed your hair. A pang of nervousness hit you out of nowhere, making you hesitate. Why were you even nervous? Shaking off the feeling, you squared your shoulders and stepped inside.

“Ah, there she is! Y/n!” Hunter’s voice boomed, his arm shooting into the air to wave you over like you were lost in a crowd.

Your eyes darted to him, already settled comfortably in a booth, and then to the two women seated across from him—Jenna and the girl from last night. The one whose name you still didn’t know.

Your steps slowed as their hushed conversation came to an abrupt halt. Without a word, you slid into the booth next to Hunter.

Hunter leaned back in the booth, a smirk playing on his lips. “Took you long enough. Thought maybe you needed a treasure map to find this place.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned. Your gaze darted to Jenna, sitting across from you with her arms crossed and her focus firmly planted on the coffee in front of her. She didn’t even glance up when you sat down.

The girl sitting next to her, however—was the complete opposite. She was all smiles, her gaze bouncing between you and Jenna like she was waiting for something to happen between you both.

“Uh, hey. I don’t think we’ve been introduced?” you said, leaning forward slightly.

“I’m Aliyah,” she replied, her grin widening as she reached across the table, hand outstretched.

You took it, chuckling softly. “Nice to meet you.”

Aliyah’s smile turned teasing. “I’m Jenna’s sister.”

“Sister?!” Your jaw dropped as you let go of her hand, the word practically punching its way out of your mouth. Was she a Viper too? Did you get caught up in a family of snakes?

“Well it's nice to meet you,” you muttered, your attention flickering to Jenna. “So, uh, what’s this all about?” You doubt she invited you here to introduce you to her family.

Nothing. Not a word. Jenna’s silence was loud, deafening even, as she swirled her spoon in her coffee like you weren’t even there.

Hunter glanced between the two of you, clearly picking up on the tension. “Oh, this is fun. Should I just grab some popcorn, or…?”

You shot him a glare. “Not helping.”

“Not trying,” he quipped, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Anyway, why don’t you ask Jenna why we’re here? She’s the mastermind behind this little breakfast summit.”

You turned back to her, trying again. “Jenna?”

Still nothing.

“Seriously?” you asked, the irritation creeping into your voice. “You’re just going to ignore me?”

Jenna finally looked up, her expression cool and indifferent. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you talking to me? Hard to tell when you’ve been acting like I don’t exist for the past few days.”

Hunter snorted, barely holding back a laugh. “She got you there.”

You sighed, sinking back into your seat. This wasn’t what you had anticipated. Sure, you figured she’d be upset about you ghosting her, but you thought you’d moved past that. Last night at the meeting, it felt like you’d reached some kind of unspoken understanding. Yet here she was now, stone-faced and silent, her cold shoulder speaking louder than words.

“Anyways, can we get some actual food in here before someone combusts?”

Aliyah snickered, clearly amused by the dynamic. “Sure, Hunter. Anything to save the day.” She turned her attention to you. “You have to try these pancakes, Brenda’s makes the best pancakes in town!"

Jenna muttered under her breath, just loud enough for you to catch. “Probably too busy to eat pancakes these days.”

Your jaw clenched, but you forced yourself to stay calm. This wasn’t the time or place to start something. Instead, you turned to Aliyah, doing your best to ignore Jenna’s jab. “Yeah, pancakes sound good. Let’s do it.”

Hunter raised his hand to flag down a server. “Pancakes for the table, and maybe a side of good vibes, yeah?”

————

For the past 20 minutes, the table had been quietly enjoying their pancakes, the clinking of cutlery filling the gaps in conversation. You caught Hunter sneaking a glance at your plate, his eyes drifting to the fluffy stack of pastries and then to the glass jar of maple syrup conveniently sitting right next to Jenna. With a sly grin, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, clearly not letting his earlier joke die.

Aliyah finally broke the silence, her voice cutting through the calm. "Alright, since Jenna's committed to this whole silent act, I guess I’ll get us started. Last night was absolutely insane, and I think we seriously need to talk about everything we learned."

You frowned, glancing between the two girls across from you. “Wait, we? What do you mean, we?”

Aliyah looked at you like you’d asked a ridiculous question. “I mean we, as in all of us sitting here. Jenna, Hunter, me—you. We’re in this now.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your brow furrowing deeper. “But… Jenna got her dirt on Percy, didn’t she? That’s what all this was supposed to be about. What more does she have to do with any of this?”

The words came out sharper than you intended, and for the first time since you’d arrived, Jenna’s eyes snapped up to meet yours. Her expression was calm but laced with a distinct edge—and some hurt?

“Are you serious?” she said, setting her coffee cup down with a soft clink. “You think I can just walk away now?”

“Why not?” you shot back. “You wanted proof of what Percy was doing, and you got it. That’s what you asked me to help you with. This whole Ghost Smoke thing—it’s not your problem.”

Jenna’s jaw tightened, and her lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, it looked like she was biting back a retort. Aliyah, however, was quick to jump in.

“It’s everyone’s problem,” she said firmly, her voice cutting through the tension. “Ghost Smoke isn’t just some petty racing drama, Y/n. It’s destroying lives, and if the Vipers start pushing it harder, it’s going to get worse. Way worse.”

Hunter nodded, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced by something more serious. “Aliyah’s right. Last night wasn’t just some casual run-in with Percy’s people. That dealer wasn’t joking around, and you saw how he talked about the ‘boss.’ They’re planning something big.”

You leaned back in your seat, the weight of their words sinking in. But still, a part of you couldn’t shake the nagging thought that none of this should fall on Jenna—or you, for that matter.

"I don't want you two getting involved," you said, your tone flat and detached, though the tightness in your chest betrayed the storm underneath. You stared at your plate, pushing a piece of pancake around with your fork, avoiding their eyes.

Jenna scoffed, the sound sharp and cutting. “Are you serious right now? You don’t want us involved? After everything last night?”

Your gaze remained fixed downward, even as her frustration bristled against you. “It’s not your fight,” you muttered.

“Not my—?” Jenna’s voice rose, and you finally looked up to see her glaring at you, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “You don’t get to make that call! You think you can just decide when you want me around and when you don't? Newsflash—you’re already in deep, and so are we. There’s no undoing it now.”

You stayed silent, your jaw clenching as you tried to tamp down the surge of emotions threatening to surface. She wasn’t wrong, but she didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand.

You couldn’t drag them further into a world where people are pushing drugs—where people are capable of taking lives, just like they had taken your father’s and uncle's.

“It doesn’t matter why,” you said finally, your voice still low. “I just… I don’t want you involved. Either of you. That’s all.”

Jenna let out an incredulous laugh, throwing her hands in the air. “Unbelievable," she muttered, pushing back her chair abruptly and standing up, her frustration was palpable as she strode toward the diner’s exit.

You watched her leave, a pang of guilt twisting in your stomach. Hunter sighed beside you, leaning back in his seat.

“She’s not wrong, you know,” he said quietly. “You can’t do this alone. They were there last night. As much as you don't it to be true, they're now part of it.”

You didn’t respond, the weight of your own thoughts pressing down too heavily. Even though your intentions were to protect them, you couldn’t help but feel like you were only making things worse.

————

"If you grip the wheel any harder, it’s going to fuse with your hands," Aliyah quipped, casting a cautious glance at her sister.

Jenna shot her a sharp side-eye but said nothing, her focus fixed on the road ahead as they made their way home.

When it became clear that Jenna wasn’t going to return to the table, Aliyah had reluctantly followed her, leaving behind the unfinished business that had brought them all together in the first place.

“I don’t get it,” Aliyah said, breaking the silence. “I thought you two were fine last night. What’s with the sudden mood swing?”

Jenna’s grip on the wheel tightened even further, her knuckles white against the leather. She thought she had been fine too. Last night, things had felt different—maybe not perfect, but at least... manageable. But seeing you again today had stirred something raw and unexpected inside her.

It's not your problem, you said.

“I don’t know,” she muttered, her voice strained, as though admitting it hurt.

"Well I don't think your girl—sorry Y/n had any bad intentions. And if you really want to get involved in this Brimstone drama, then you have to make up with her eventually" Aliyah said, her tone gentler now.

Jenna let out a slow breath through her nose, her eyes never leaving the road. “It’s not that simple,” she murmured. “She ghosted me, Aliyah. And now she’s acting like she has to carry everything on her own, like I can’t handle myself. She wanted me around at first and now she decides I'm out? Oh I'm sorry I wasn't aware I was some fucking doll.”

“Or,” Aliyah countered, “maybe she’s terrified of something way bigger than you realize and doesn’t want to drag you—us into it.”

That struck a nerve. Jenna’s fingers twitched against the steering wheel as she mulled over her sister’s words. Was it fear? Was that why you were pushing her away? Her frustration softened slightly, but the knot in her chest didn’t loosen.

“Even if that’s true, she’s going about it the wrong way,” Jenna said after a moment. “I can’t help if she keeps shutting me out.”

Aliyah smirked faintly, crossing her arms. “So tell her that. You’re not the type to sit around and wait for someone else to fix things, right? Go confront her, like the fiery little Viper you are.”

Jenna rolled her eyes at her sister’s teasing, but the words stayed with her. Maybe Aliyah was right—waiting wasn’t getting her anywhere, and the Brimstone situation wasn’t something she could handle without you. As much as she hated to admit it, you were already too entangled with one another for her to pretend otherwise.

She exhaled sharply, determination taking root. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll figure it out. But if she tries to pull some shit on me again, I won't hold back."

Aliyah grinned. “Now that’s the Jenna I know.”

Aliyah sighed in relief, glad her words had managed to ease her sister’s frustration. She could have kept up the teasing, sure, but she knew better. Deep down, she understood the root of Jenna’s anger—it wasn’t just about the danger or the argument at breakfast.

You weren’t wrong, after all. As far as Aliyah knew, the terms of whatever arrangement you and Jenna had were clear: you’d help her get what she needed, and once she had it, that was that. Simple, transactional, with no strings attached. But that simplicity seemed to be the very thing eating at Jenna now.

It wasn’t just frustration; it was hurt. Hurt because Jenna realized you seemed okay with it all ending there—with the two of you going your separate ways. And it wasn’t okay for her. Aliyah could see it—the sadness in Jenna’s eyes, the way her jaw clenched just a bit tighter than usual. It wasn’t about the Ghost Smoke or Brimstone drama anymore. It was about you.

Her sister wasn’t mad at you for walking away. She was sad that you didn’t seem to need her the way she found herself needing you. Sad that she no longer had a reason to stay connected.

Aliyah glanced at her sister, who was staring straight ahead, her grip on the wheel lighter now but still firm. Jenna didn’t want to admit it, not yet, but she was falling. And Aliyah could only hope she didn’t hit the ground too hard.

As Aliyah mindlessly glanced at her side view mirror, she noticed something.

"Uhm sis, do you think that car's been following us?"

Jenna raises her gaze up to the rear view mirror and she spotted the same car that had been trailing them for a while now—a solid black Escalade. But California traffic is like that, the typical resident wasn't going to lane change like a racer. "I'm sure it's nothing."

Still, to be safe, she made a series of deliberate right turns, one after the other, her pulse quickening with each corner. When she glanced at the mirror again, her fears solidified. The car was still there.

“It’s not nothing, Ali. They are following us,” Jenna said, her voice low but tinged with rising panic.

Aliyah stiffened beside her, her wide eyes darting to the side mirror. “W-what? Who do you think it is? Percy? Or those guys from yesterday?”

Jenna’s jaw clenched as she considered their options.

"Aliyah, call Y/n. Now," Jenna ordered, her voice steady, tossing her phone to her sister.

Aliyah fumbled with the phone, her fingers trembling. “What do I even say? ‘Hey, someone’s following us, want to join the party?’” she muttered nervously, trying to mask her fear.

Jenna shot her a sharp look. “Just tell her where we are and what’s happening. She’ll know what to do.”

Aliyah hesitated for a split second before dialing your number. “It's ringing.” Aliyah whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat.

"Jenna?"

The girl driving couldn't help but feel relief upon the sound of your voice, maybe it was because you both have faced many high stakes situations together and have always made it out on the other side. And in that moment, she felt certain you’d all make it through this one too.

“Okay, so, there’s this car, and it’s been following us for a while. Jenna took a bunch of right turns, and they’re still there. We don’t know who they are, but—”

“Aliyah,” you interrupted, your tone sharp with focus. “Put Jenna on.”

Aliyah quickly handed the phone over, and Jenna brought it to her ear without taking her eyes off the rearview mirror.

“Jenna, can you lose them?” you asked, voice soft, sensing her hesitation.

“I-I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I’ve never done this before—what if I mess up? What if—”

“Jenna,” you interrupted gently, but firmly. “Take a deep breath. You’ve got this. But I need you to help me help you, okay? What’s up ahead?”

Jenna blinked, her focus flicking back to the road. “Uh, there’s a left turn coming up, and... a main road with a lot of traffic.”

“Alright, take the left. Make it clean.”

She nodded, her hands slightly shaky as she turned the wheel, the tires squealing lightly.

“Good,” you encouraged. “Now tell me what’s next. What do you see?”

“There’s an on-ramp to the highway coming up,” she said, her voice tight with nerves.

“Perfect. Get on the highway. Blend into traffic and use the cars to block their line of sight.”

“Okay,” she whispered, guiding the car toward the ramp as Aliyah sat rigid in her seat.

“You’re doing great, Jenna,” you said, keeping your voice calm and steady. “Just focus. You’re faster and smarter than them. Trust yourself.”

Jenna weaved into traffic, her grip still tight on the wheel. She glanced in the rearview mirror and tensed. “They’re still back there.”

“Stay calm,” you said. “What’s in your lane? Any big vehicles?”

“Yeah... there’s a semi up ahead,” she replied, her voice rising with nervous energy.

“Good. Get in its blind spot. Use it as cover. When you’re close to an exit, slip off. They’ll have to stay on the highway.”

She exhaled shakily, maneuvering into position as you guided her through. The tension in the car was thick, but she followed your instructions to the letter.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you said softly.

Jenna swerved off the highway, her heart pounding as the pursuing car sped past the exit.

“They’re gone,” she whispered, her voice thick with disbelief.

“You did it, Jenna,” you said, pride clear in your tone.

She let out a shaky laugh, her shoulders finally relaxing. “We did it,” she corrected, a small smile tugging at her lips.

The line went silent for a moment, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. Then, breaking the tension, your voice cut through with a sudden, determined tone.

“Jenna, listen. Can you go home, pack a bag for you and Aliyah, and meet me and Hunter at the mall we went to?”

Jenna’s brow furrowed in confusion. Moments ago, you were adamant about keeping her out of your life, and now you were asking her to pack a bag? She glanced at Aliyah, whose puzzled expression mirrored her own.

Aliyah shrugged dramatically, mouthing, “YOLO.”

“Why?” Jenna asked, her tone cautious.

“I’ll explain everything when we meet. Just trust me and do it, okay?”

Jenna hesitated, her mind racing with questions, but something in your voice made her pause. Finally, she exhaled. “Okay. We’ll meet you there.” And hung up the phone.

“Well, would you look at that—your little lover’s quarrel is finally wrapping up,” Aliyah teased, her grin wide.

“Shut up,” Jenna shot back, though the corners of her lips betrayed her as they curved into a reluctant smile. “I’m still mad at her.”

————

“You two are so confusing,” Hunter chuckled as he drove, his laughter filling the car. “Do you hate each other? Or are you about to jump each other’s bones? Seriously, I can never tell.”

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you couldn’t help but think he had a point.

“So, care to explain why we’re all packing a bag and meeting up with them again?” Hunter asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

“We’re going on a weekend getaway,” you replied nonchalantly.

Hunter’s head whipped toward you, excitement lighting up his face. “No way! I’ve always wanted to do the Bahamas.”

You laughed. “Not the Bahamas, Hunt. Just somewhere a few hours away. After everything that went down—the meeting, the girls being followed—I think it’s smart for all of us to lay low for a few days. I’m not taking any chances.”

Hunter nodded dramatically, placing a hand over his chest like he was pledging allegiance. “Protecting your girl and your sister-in-law. I respect it.”

Ignoring his teasing, you redirected him. “Just drive us to the garage,” you said firmly. “I need to let Anton know we’ll be out of town for a few days. The last thing I need is him freaking out and sending a search party.”

————

As Hunter pulls into the garage, you take in the sight of the Sinners hard at work, each one laser-focused on their tasks. Was there a race coming up?

Stepping out of the car, your eyes land on Anton at the back, working on a car with Mason. You hadn't seen Mason in a while—not since the Sinner-Viper race nearly two months ago. Not that you missed him; Mason was one of the most aggravating members of the crew. Apparently, Anton in the moment thought so too, judging by the way he was yelling at him for some reason.

"Hey! Long time, no see."

You turned to see Mikey approaching, her brown eyes bright with curiosity.

She tilted her head, eyes scanning both you and Hunter. "So, what have you two been up to?"

"Oh, you know," Hunter chimed in, "just the usual. Saving the day and eating pancakes"

Mikey raised a brow, her skepticism softened by amusement. “Uh-huh. Sounds like you two are living the dream.”

She shifted her attention to you, crossing her arms. “Haven’t seen you around for a few days. No more late nights at the garage?”

You felt a flicker of unease. Something about Mikey always made you cautious, as if she could see right through you. Keeping your tone casual, you rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah, the Aston’s finished, so I’m finally catching up on sleep. Not much reason to be here right now.”

Mikey tilted her head, clearly not satisfied with your vague answer. “Really? And here I thought this place was your second home. What’s been keeping you busy?”

Before you could formulate a response, Hunter swooped in. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re not slacking off. We’re just gearing up for a little road trip.”

“Road trip?” Mikey repeated, her interest clearly piqued.

Hunter nodded, grinning. “Yeah, figured it’s time for some fresh air and open roads. Recharge the batteries, you know?”

You shot him a subtle glare, but he just winked at you, unfazed.

Mikey narrowed her eyes slightly, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Interesting. Well, have fun with that. Don’t get into too much trouble.”

“Us? Trouble?” Hunter gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Never.”

"We actually came here to let Anton know we’ll be gone for a couple of days,” you say, flashing Mikey a polite smile. “Catch you later.” Without waiting for a response, you grab Hunter’s arm and drag him along.

“Would it kill you not to spill everything?” you hiss under your breath.

Hunter shrugged, his usual carefree grin firmly in place. “Relax. It’s gonna get out eventually that we’re taking a couple days off. If we act shady, it’ll just make people more suspicious.”

You sighed, shaking your head at his nonchalance. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Together, you made your way toward the back of the garage, where Anton and Mason were knee-deep in their latest project.

“I don’t know why I keep you around, Mason,” Anton groaned, his hands dragging down his face in exasperation. “You incompetent fool!”

Hearing your footsteps, he glanced up, his frustration momentarily melting into surprise. “Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” you greeted, keeping your tone light. “I'm kind of in a rush, but just wanted to let you know Hunter and I are heading out of town for a couple of days. Figured I’d let you know so you don’t worry.”

Anton’s brows furrowed as he straightened up, eyeing the both of you. “Heading out? What for?”

“Just a road trip,” you said casually, shrugging like it was no big deal. “You know, get some fresh air, clear our heads. Nothing major.”

His eyes flicked to Hunter, then back to you, his suspicion barely veiled. “Where to and who’s going?”

"We don't really know yet, wanna see where the road takes us you know? And just us two," you replied smoothly, lying without hesitation.

Anton’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he was going to press harder. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. But something feels off about this, and I don’t like it.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “If this is about something dangerous, you better tell me now. You know I’ll have your back.”

You swallowed hard but maintained your composure. “It’s not, I promise. We’ll be fine.”

He didn’t look convinced. Anton studied you for a moment longer before nodding, though his concern was evident. "Alright. Just be careful out there, okay? Keep your phones on and don't do anything stupid."

"Got it," you promised, trying to sound reassuring.

Hunter gave Anton a mock salute. "We'll be model citizens, swear."

Anton rolled his eyes but didn't press further. As you turned to leave, Mason chimed in from where he was leaning against the car. "Bring me back something cool! Like a souvenir or somethin'!"

Hunter snorted. "Sure thing, buddy. How about a map so you can finally figure out how to navigate a racetrack without crashing?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you walked away, though Anton's lingering concern weighed heavily in the back of your mind.

————

The SUV you “borrowed” from the garage rumbled along the highway as you adjusted your grip on the wheel, glancing at Hunter slouched comfortably in the passenger seat. Your packed bag sat in the back alongside his, evidence of your brief pit stop at home.

The memory of Anton’s concerned expression lingered, gnawing at you. You hated that you hadn’t told him the truth. He’d lost his father too—same as you—and you knew better than anyone how much that loss shaped him. How much it shaped both of you. But unlike you, Anton didn’t know there was more to the story. That it wasn’t just a tragic accident.

You felt awful for keeping it from him, for standing there and letting him believe everything was fine. But what were you supposed to do? Drop that bombshell and then tell him you were heading out of town for a few days? There was no way he’d have let you leave. No way he wouldn’t try to step in, to get involved.

And as much as it tore you up inside, you couldn’t let that happen. Not yet. Protecting Jenna—and by extension, your fragile alliance with her—had to come first. There was too much at stake, and dragging Anton into it now would only complicate things further. Still, the weight of your silence felt heavier with each passing mile.

“You good?” Hunter’s voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you muttered, though the word felt hollow.

He raised a brow but didn’t push, thankfully. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, letting the conversation from earlier drift back in.

“I gotta admit. I thought Anton would take a lot more convincing.”

Hunter glanced at you with a smirk. “What, you thought he’d put his foot down? He knows you’re stubborn as hell. Probably figured there was no point fighting you on it.”

“Maybe,” you murmured, though a part of you wasn’t so sure. Anton letting you go that easily still didn’t sit right. He’d been wary, his words cautious, but ultimately, he hadn’t stopped you. You wondered if he trusted you more than you expected—or if he had reasons of his own for letting you leave.

Shaking the thought from your mind, you shifted the conversation. “By the way, you seemed pretty comfortable with Jenna and Aliyah back at the diner.”

Hunter shrugged nonchalantly. “They’re cool. Aliyah’s funny, and Jenna’s… well, Jenna. We were just chatting for a bit before you showed up.”

“Before I showed up?” you echoed, glancing at him skeptically. “She didn’t seem in a chatty mood when I got there.”

Hunter chuckled. “I guess I have that effect on people. Smooth-talker, remember?”

Something about the way he said it made you pause, a memory resurfacing. “Wait. Jenna texted you, didn’t she? How do you even know her?”

Hunter tensed ever so slightly, and you didn’t miss it. “Uh… well…”

The gears in your head were starting to turn. “Hunter,” you pressed, narrowing your eyes. “How do you know Jenna?”

He fidgeted with his hands, clearly stalling. “It’s complicated, alright? Don’t worry about it.”

Before you could demand an answer, the bright lights of the mall parking lot came into view, and you spotted Jenna and Aliyah parked and waiting near the back of the mall. Hunter exhaled dramatically, clearly relieved to be off the hook—for now.

"We're here," he announced unnecessarily, pointing out the obvious.

You rolled your eyes but focused on parking the SUV. As soon as you stepped out, Jenna's sharp gaze locked onto you, her arms crossed, while Aliyah waved with a cheeky grin. Whatever Hunter was hiding would have to wait.

You park the SUV next to their car and step out, heading straight for the trunk. Without a word, you pop it open before turning toward Jenna and Aliyah. Stretching out your hands, you motion for their bags.

Aliyah hands over her duffle bag without hesitation, but Jenna hesitates, squinting at you with suspicion. Her scoff cuts through the quiet as you turn around and load the bags into the trunk.

Following you to the back of the SUV, she crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. "Uhm, are you planning to explain what's going on anytime soon?"

You close the trunk with a sharp thunk and meet her gaze, keeping your tone steady. "I will."

You glance over your shoulder, flashing her a grin. "Oh, and hey—nice work shaking those guys. Not everyone's got those skills. Seriously, you were impressive."

As you turn back to the SUV, Jenna's voice comes softly, almost shyly, "Thanks."

You don't catch it, too focused on adjusting the bags in the trunk, but Aliyah and Hunter exchange knowing looks. Jenna's rare vulnerability wasn't something they saw often, and the faint pink dusting her cheeks didn't go unnoticed either.

————

You merge onto Interstate 5, the highway stretching south through California. The evening sun dips lower on the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of gold and fiery orange. Hunter has his window down, one arm draped lazily over the edge, while Aliyah hums along to a faint tune playing on the radio. Jenna sits diagonally across from you, arms crossed, her gaze fixed out the window. The soft pout on her lips and the sharpness of her glare suggest she’s deep in thought—and likely still mad at you.

You glance at her through the rearview mirror, unable to help the small smile that tugs at your lips. Even in her frustration, she looks ridiculously adorable.

As you bring your eyes back to the road, they flicker back to the mirror—and that’s when it happens. Jenna catches your gaze, her sharp brown eyes locking onto yours.

Crap.

She breaks the silence, her tone firm but tinged with curiosity. “Alright, enough stalling. Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”

You’re relieved she doesn’t make a snarky comment about catching you staring. Instead, you sigh and focus back on the road, deciding it’s time to answer her question.

“I’m sorry,” you start, glancing briefly at her reflection, then at Aliyah. “To both of you. You were right earlier… about being involved in all this.”

Hunter nods in silent approval from the passenger seat, encouraging you to keep going. “…As much as I don’t want either of you involved,” you continue, catching him facepalming out of the corner of your eye, “there’s no avoiding it now.”

"Neither one of can help it, and that car following you? It kind of put things into perspective for me. So I think the safe option for all of us to get out of town for a few days."

Jenna raises a brow, her expression unreadable, but she doesn’t respond right away. Aliyah and Hunter both glance at each other, waiting for someone to fill the silence. When Jenna finally speaks, her voice is softer than you expected. “Still didn’t answer the question,” she says. “Where are we going?”

You shrug one shoulder, keeping your eyes on the road. “I don’t know,” you admit with a lopsided grin. “I’m just driving.”

Jenna stares at you for a long moment before exhaling and shaking her head. She doesn’t voice the acceptance of your apology, but something in her gaze softens, and you can tell she’s made her peace with it—for now.

“Unbelievable,” she mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear. “We’re on the run, and you’re winging it? Great plan, genius.”

Aliyah bursts into laughter, and Hunter cheers, “This is classic! Road trip roulette—who needs a destination when you’ve got vibes?”

Jenna pinches the bridge of her nose, mumbling something under her breath, but you swear you catch the faintest hint of a smile.

————

The next hour passes surprisingly smoothly. Everyone keeps themselves entertained in their own way, avoiding any mention of the issues that pushed you all to leave town in the first place. Aliyah has her headphones in, swaying gently to whatever music she’s listening to, while Jenna scrolls through her phone, occasionally glancing out the window. Hunter fiddles with the radio, switching stations until he finds a faintly decent song, only to switch it again moments later.

You keep your focus on the road, but your mind drifts. A part of you wished you could bring back the easy banter you used to have with Jenna—back before you ghosted her. It would've made the drive so much more fun. Instead, there’s this quiet tension hanging in the air between you two, one you’re desperately hoping will dissolve sooner rather than later. At least Hunter agreed to take over driving on the way back. Maybe by then, things between you and Jenna will be better.

Suddenly, Hunter starts humming, his voice cutting through the silence. At first, it’s aimless, but then it takes shape.

“Ninety-nine bottles of milk on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of milk!” he sings loudly, grinning as he looks around at everyone.

You groan. “Oh, no. Don’t.”

Aliyah chuckles behind you, joining in softly, “Take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of milk on the wall!”

Jenna sighs dramatically but mutters, “This is so dumb,” just before she jumps in on the next line. Within minutes, the whole car erupts into an awkward yet oddly harmonious singalong, voices overlapping and laughter spilling between verses. By the time you hit ninety-five bottles, everyone’s belting at the top of their lungs.

It’s ridiculous, it’s cheesy, and it’s exactly what you all needed.

When the laughter finally dies down, Jenna clears her throat. “Uh, I need to pee.”

You glance at her through the rearview mirror, raising an eyebrow. Internally, you can’t help but think, Really? We’ve only been on the road for an hour. Did she not go before we left?

But you don’t voice the thought. Instead, you nod, spotting a route stop up ahead. “Alright, we’ll pull over.”

As you exit the highway and roll into the rest stop, Hunter claps your shoulder. “Road trips, man. This is what it’s all about.”

You just shake your head, chuckling as you park the SUV.

————

As everyone steps out at the route stop, the golden light of the setting sun casts long shadows over the parking lot. Hunter stretches dramatically, mumbling something about his aching legs, while Aliyah is already darting toward the brightly lit convenience store, proclaiming her hunt for snacks. Jenna heads to the bathroom, and once she returns she lingers by the SUV, her arms folded, her body language closed.

“Need anything?” you ask, hesitating slightly as you approach her.

She shakes her head but doesn’t look at you. “I’m good.”

You nod, biting back the urge to say more, and join Aliyah and Hunter into the store. The shelves are stocked with everything from bags of chips to questionable gas station sushi.

Hunter immediately gravitates toward the candy aisle, gleefully holding up a pack of gummy worms. “You know you want some,” he teases, tossing a pack at Aliyah, who yelps and tries to dodge.

You chuckle at their antics but can’t help glancing back toward the SUV, wondering if Jenna’s still standing there, or if she’s wandered in.

She hasn’t.

Grabbing a couple of bottled drinks and a bag of chips, you head to the register. Aliyah sidles up beside you, arms full of snacks. “Do you think we should get something for Jenna? She barely ate earlier.”

You hesitate, and recall her eating a chocolate the day you both hung out at the mall and then grab that brand of chocolate from a display near the checkout.

Outside, you find Jenna leaning against the side of the car, scrolling through her phone. You hold out the candy as you approach. “Figured you might want this.”

She glances at it, then at you, her lips twitching like she’s suppressing a thank-you. “Thanks,” she says quietly, taking it without meeting your eyes.

There’s a pause. The others are still inside, their laughter faintly audible from the store. For a moment, it’s just you and Jenna in the fading light.

“You okay?” you ask softly, unsure if you’re even expecting an answer.

She finally meets your gaze, her expression guarded but not unkind. “I’m fine,” she replies, but her tone doesn’t match the words.

You want to push, to ask what’s really on her mind, but something about the way she holds herself stops you. Instead, you nod and step back, giving her space.

She seemed fine interacting with you in the group, she was more vocal. But once it was just you two she got all quiet. But she surprised you with her next words.

She finally glances at you properly, her eyes searching yours. “Thanks, by the way. For this. I know you didn’t have to.”

You swallow, suddenly aware of how close she’s standing. “You don’t have to thank me, Jenna. I just… I want to make sure you’re safe—and your sister!”

She nods faintly, looking down at the ground. For a second, it feels like the rest of the world fades away, leaving just the two of you under the flickering lights.

Before the moment can stretch too long, Hunter sticks his head out of the car window. “Yo! Are we road-tripping or setting up camp here? Let’s go!”

Jenna chuckles, the tension breaking as she steps back. “Guess we should get going.”

“Yeah.” You push off the SUV, giving her a small nod. “Let’s hit the road.”

As you both climb back into the car, you can’t help but glance at her through the mirror again. She doesn’t notice this time, and you’re glad she doesn’t.

————

"Hey, Y/n, remember the car I was driving yesterday?" Aliyah asks, her voice breaking the comfortable silence that’s fallen over the SUV.

It’s been about two and a half hours since you hit the road, and everyone is busy with their snacks. Conversations drift in and out, short bursts of chatter punctuated by the rustling of wrappers.

You hum softly, urging her to continue.

Aliyah glances at you in the rearview mirror, her tone casual. “It’s pretty cool that you own that car. My dad used to have the same one, and I remember him always going on and on about how rare it was. Small world, huh?” She shrugs, clearly amused by the coincidence.

You and Jenna freeze. For a moment, no one says anything, and the awkward silence hangs in the air like a weight.

You glance at Jenna through the rearview mirror, and she avoids your gaze. Great, you think. Of all the things to come up right now, this had to be it.

“Well…” you clear your throat, deciding Aliyah deserves to know at this point. “That was your dad’s car.”

Aliyah’s brows furrow in confusion. “What? No, his was black.”

“Yeah,” you admit with an awkward laugh, “and then I wrapped it green.”

The realization dawns on her, and she turns to Jenna, her jaw dropping as she whisper yells, “Oh my God! You like the girl who stole Dad’s car?”

Jenna’s eyes widen, and her face flushes. “Aliyah, shut up!” she snaps, but her tone lacks bite.

Aliyah smirks, clearly reveling in her discovery. “I mean, this is peak comedy. She stole Dad’s car, and you’re just fine with it?”

“I’m not fine with it,” Jenna retorts, but her lips curve slightly as if she’s holding back a smile. “And for the record, it was both of us who stole it.”

Aliyah raises her hands in mock surrender. “Oh, so now you’re an accomplice? Love that for you.”

While they bicker in their private conversation, Jenna’s eyes soften, and her gaze turns nostalgic. “That day was insane,” she murmurs, more to herself than anyone else. “We had no idea what we were doing, but it was... kind of thrilling."

Not knowing what the two girls were talking about, you glance at her in the mirror for the millionth time today. Jenna’s smile, faint and genuine, tugs at something deep in your chest, but before you can dwell on it, Hunter’s voice cuts in.

“Well, look at you,” he says with a laugh, nudging your arm. “Stealing the car of the dad of the girl you like. That’s one for the books, huh?”

“Shut up, Hunter,” you groan, shoving his arm off you.

He just grins wider. “Nah, I’m serious. You’ve really outdone yourself here. Romantic and criminal—who knew you had it in you?”

Rolling your eyes, you lean back into the seat, but an idea suddenly strikes you. "Alright, since we're all in a sharing mood, how about this—Hunter, how exactly do you and Jenna know each other?" Your tone pointed, almost teasing.

Silence.

Not a word, not even the rustle of snack wrappers from the backseat.

Aliyah breaks the tension, her brows knitting as she glances at her sister. "Wait...what? I thought we both met Hunter this morning?"

You glance in the rearview mirror. Jenna’s expression is stone cold, her face unreadable, like she’s mastered the art of giving away nothing. She doesn’t so much as blink, just stares out the window as though the question didn’t even register.

Hunter, on the other hand, looks like he’s sweating bullets. His hand fidgets with the strap of his seatbelt, and he clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh, well… you see…”

Before Hunter can dig himself into an even deeper hole, Jenna suddenly bursts out laughing. The sound is so unexpected, so completely jarring after the tension-filled silence, that your head whips around to look at her.

Her laughter is light and melodic, the kind that shakes her shoulders and makes her eyes crinkle at the corners. For a second, you forget about the chaos in the car and just stare.

Her laugh is kind of… cute, you think, catching yourself and quickly looking back at the road before anyone notices.

Jenna waves a hand, her laughter dying down just enough to speak. “Relax, Hunter. Seriously, it’s not a big deal. Go ahead, tell them.”

Aliyah sighs loudly from the backseat, crossing her arms. “Okay, my patience is wearing thin. Someone better spill before I start throwing snacks.”

"Okay fine, you tell them Jenna, since you think it's so funny," Hunter mumbles defeated, shrinking into his seat.

Jenna glances at Hunter, who is clearly trying to become one with his seatbelt. With a small shrug, she answers casually, “I walked in on Hunter… being intimate.”

You blink, nearly missing your next lane change. “Oh, wow. That’s… embarrassing,” you mutter, trying not to laugh. But then your brain starts piecing things together, and you frown. “Wait a second. How does that even happen? Like… was this in public or something? Did you come to Brimstone, or were you—”

Hunter interrupts, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I was in Summer Valley, okay?”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, okay. Get that bag, I guess. But, man, from the way you were sweating, I thought it was something really bad.”

For a second, you think the tension has finally lifted. But then Hunter lets out a resigned sigh, muttering, “I was with someone from the Viper's crew.”

It all made sense now, why Hunter was so understanding of the idea of you being affiliated with a Viper—why there was two toothbrushes in his bathroom.

He had his own fucking Viper.

“What the fuck?!” you shout, your voice climbing a whole octave as you instinctively swerve the car.

Hunter grabs the oh-shit handle. “Whoa, whoa, focus! You’re driving, not judging!”

“What the fuck Hunter?!” you yell again, steadying the wheel as the SUV veers slightly back into the lane. Thankfully, it’s almost 8 pm, and the highway is relatively empty, so you narrowly avoid disaster. "You're fucking a Viper?! What the actual—"

Hunter throws up his hands defensively. “What’s the big deal?! You are too!”

You slam the brakes—figuratively, of course—your head whipping around to glare at him. “EXCUSE ME?!”

Your face goes red-hot, and you stammer, “I’m not—what—literally who?! I’m not fucking anybody!”

Hunter smirks, sensing your flustered state. “Oh, sure. But you wish you were fucking a Viper.”

If you thought you couldn’t blush any harder, you were wrong. From the backseat, Aliyah is howling with laughter while Jenna buries her face in her hands, her own ears tinged pink.

“You’re delusional,” you snap at Hunter, but your embarrassment only fuels his laughter. “Seriously, who even—"

“Doesn’t matter!” Hunter interrupts, his grin practically splitting his face. “I’m just saying, don’t judge me when you’ve got your own Viper situation brewing back there.”

“Hunter, I swear—”

Aliyah cuts you off, gasping between giggles. “Oh my God, I can’t breathe. This is the best road trip ever!”

Jenna groans softly, pressing a hand to her forehead, but the small, stupid smile tugging at her lips betrays her. She hated being teased, especially by Aliyah, who had the precision of a sniper when it came to embarrassing her. Yet, as the chaos bubbled in the backseat, Jenna found her thoughts wandering to the things Hunter had been saying to poke at you.

What had you two been talking about? Hunter clearly knew something she didn’t, and now, curiosity gnawed at her despite herself. She glanced at you, watching as you muttered under your breath and tightened your grip on the steering wheel like it might save you. It wasn’t just the teasing; something else was making you squirm, and Jenna couldn’t stop the faint curve of her lips from growing into a fuller smile.

She didn’t know what Hunter was hinting at, but the way your ears burned red and your gaze stayed glued to the road… she couldn’t help but find it a little endearing.

————

The freeway stretched ahead in an endless ribbon of asphalt, swallowed by the inky darkness of night. The faint glow of distant city lights barely pierced the dark sky, leaving only the occasional flash of headlights to illuminate the passing road signs and surrounding emptiness. It was quiet now, except for the hum of the tires against the pavement and the faint sound of Aliyah’s soft snores from the backseat. The earlier chaos had subsided, leaving the SUV calm in stillness.

You glanced over at Hunter, slumped against the window with his head bobbing slightly with the movement of the car. He and Aliyah had devoured the candy earlier like children on Halloween and, predictably, crashed hard. For the last thirty minutes, they’d been completely out, and you were silently grateful for the reprieve. Any more teasing, and you were sure your heart would’ve leapt out of your chest.

Your heart was still pounding, though.

You sigh as you wrestled with a thought you’d been avoiding for a while. You never addressed ghosting Jenna. You mentioned to her at the meeting that you’d talk later, but then you didn’t. And now, things between you were stuck in this strange, awkward limbo. You hated it. You hated the distance and the way your banter had evaporated into stilted exchanges.

More than anything, you wanted this trip to be enjoyable for both of you—for her.

“Hey, Jenna you awake?” you said softly, testing the waters. You knew she was awake. Her breathing wasn’t even enough to fool you. You just needed something to break the ice.

“Yeah, what’s up?” she muttered, her voice low to avoid waking her sister.

You hesitated for a moment, your hands flexing nervously against the steering wheel. Then you took a deep breath and decided to do what needed to be done.

“I just… I want to apologize,” you began, keeping your eyes fixed on the road ahead. “For ghosting you. I know it was shitty, and you didn’t deserve it.”

She didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel her eyes on you, listening.

“I… I had a conversation with my mom the first day I didn’t reply to you,” you continued, your voice soft and unsteady. “And it—it messed with my head. I found out my dad wanted out of the Sinners. That completely flipped everything I thought I knew. I was already so confused, and it just made things worse. And then…” You paused, forcing yourself to push through the lump in your throat. “It made me feel terrified. Of everything. Of this whole situation. And of you. Of what you made me feel—what I felt for—”

You clamped your mouth shut, cutting yourself off realizing you spilled too much. Your mind was already coming up with excuses for what you meant by what you made me feel. Heat crawled up your neck, your knuckles stark white against the dim light from the dashboard. You scrambled internally for a way to gloss over your slip-up, but the words weren’t coming.

“I’m not trying to excuse what I did,” you said after a beat. “There’s no excuse for it. I just wanted to explain, to tell you why I acted the way I did. And to say I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

She's not saying anything. The silence stretched uncomfortably, and you risked a quick glance in her direction, her expression unreadable in the faint glow of the passing headlights.

Panic began to claw at your chest.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you blurted out, your words rushing now. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I know what I did was shitty, and I know I have no right to expect forgiveness—”

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me, Greaser."

Greaser.

You smile.

And that was all she said until Hunter and Aliyah awoken from their slumber twenty minutes later. But it was enough.

————

"Damn, how long was I out?" Hunter grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifted in his seat.

Aliyah stretched with an exaggerated groan, yawning as if she'd been asleep for days.

"Only about forty minutes," you replied, glancing at them. The weight in your chest felt lighter after your moment with Jenna, but a part of you braced for the teasing chaos that might erupt now that they were awake.

Aliyah groaned dramatically. "Ugh, I was hoping the driving part would be over when I woke up. Are we seriously just gonna spend days cooped up in this car?"

"We’ve only been driving for like three hours," Hunter pointed out with a shrug.

"And that’s not far enough?" Aliyah raised a brow.

Hunter nodded, turning his gaze to you. "She’s got a point, you know."

"...I have a suggestion." Aliyah finally says.

"Shoot," you encourage her.

She leaned forward slightly, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she looked at Jenna. "How about we visit Markus? We’re probably close to him already."

Jenna’s face lit up instantly, her smile matching her sister’s excitement. "That would be amazing, Ali, but… are we really gonna risk leading trouble straight to him?"

Aliyah waved the concern off with a dismissive hand. "Come on, you really think those bad guys are gonna follow us all the way to LA?"

While the sisters debated, you leaned toward Hunter, lowering your voice. "Who the fuck is Markus?"

Hunter smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "What’s the matter? You jealous?"

"What? No!" you snapped, scoffing like the idea was ridiculous. But your mind betrayed you, lingering on Jenna’s radiant smile. Who was this guy, and why did she look so happy talking about him?

The sisters’ conversation quieten down, and Aliyah finally addresses you, her grin still firmly in place. "Y/n, how does a trip to UCLA sound?"

Taglist: @godamnityess @machyishere @freakshow2501 @nwestra @mcchicken88

@101rizzlrr @snowdrop1026 @ilovesneezing069 @btay3115 @burntoutghost

@cobaltperun

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x female reader #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter x y/n #beetlejuice #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x enid #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #tara carpenter #wednesday netflix #jenna marie ortega

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kaleldobrev · 3 months ago

Text

You're Gonna Kill Me Sweetheart (3) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 2.7k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (4x), Age Gap (15 years), Sexual tension, Slightly vulnerable Dean, Self-Loathing Dean & Sexual fantasies (nothing explicit)

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | A little bit of a slower part, but Dean and Y/N get to know each other a little bit. This was originally supposed to be a part of chapter 2, but I didn’t like how long chapter 2 was and I thought this section could be its own chapter | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⇠ Go Back & Read Chapter 2

Walking into the motel room, there was indeed a single bed, and it didn't look like the normal motel size you were used to. It somehow looked smaller than usual, but you weren't sure if it was because you were nervous and your eyes were playing tricks on you, or it was in fact smaller.

You turned to Dean, who was still staring at the single bed. "The bed looks a little small," you said, the two of you still standing in the doorway; almost afraid to enter the gaudy room, which looked to have about fifty different shades of green.

"Guy said it was a queen," Dean commented, his voice sounding a little bit annoyed. "It's a queen my ass," he mumbled, being the first one to enter the room, leaving you to stay in the doorway. You held back a chuckle at his comment.

As he was about to place the duffel onto the bed, you closed the door behind you. "Do you have a preferred side?" He asked, the moment you turned to face him again.

"The right if that's okay," you answered, biting your bottom lip with slight hesitation at your answer. "Unless you want it." Back at yours and your boyfriend's apartment, you tended to have the left side, despite your preference for the right side as it was farther away from the door. But when he moved in, he automatically claimed the right, leaving you to endure the left.

Dean shrugged. "Left is fine with me," he said, placing his duffel bag on the left side of the bed.

There was a part of Dean that was happy that you had picked the right, as it was farther away from the door. He knew that you would be able to take care of yourself, but he strangely felt better being near the door so he would be able to protect you at a moment's notice.

He watched you walk over to the right side, placing your duffel down and unzipping it, almost matching his movements. He couldn't help but grin a bit. "Do you want to shower first or can I?" You asked.

"You can go first. Just don't use up all the hot water," he winked, before zippering up his bag and pushing it underneath the bed. At this point, he couldn't tell if his wink was flirtatious or just out of habit.

You felt your cheeks grow hot from his wink, hoping that you weren't blushing. And if you were, hoping that he didn't notice. You wanted more than anything to tell him that he could join you, but you resisted. There was no way in Hell he would say yes, as he probably looked at you like a child, or someone that he felt like he needed to protect.

But you couldn't help but wonder what his body looked like underneath the layers of clothes that he wore. You wondered what it would feel like to run your hands up and down his chest, placing kisses along his jaw and down his neck, as the water ran down both your bodies. You licked your bottom lip at the thought, again, hoping that Dean didn't notice. Your throat was dry again — you needed to get into the shower quick.

"Thanks, I'll make it quick!" You briefly smiled, before making a beeline for the bathroom.

Once he saw you enter the bathroom and shut the door, he couldn't help but notice that he didn't hear you lock the door. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled to himself, and he licked and bit his bottom lip. He was thankful that you weren't here to see him.

But the urge to open that door and join you in the shower right now was strong. All he wanted to do was run his hands along your arms and kiss your neck and bare shoulders from behind you, as the water traced every inch of your bodies. He wanted to admire the way the water hit your curves, and hear you moan against him. He was curious how you would react to his touch. Fuck, he thought. This was going to be a long few days.

He had to snap out of his fantasy, even though he didn't want to. But he needed to be realistic about the situation and dynamic between the two of you if he was going to survive the next several days. He was 37, and you were 22 — a fifteen-year difference. It wasn't a small difference by any means, and it was just big enough for people to question the relationship between the two of you if you were to ever end up together. Then again, there was no way you would actively choose to be with him, or someone like him; he had too much emotional and psychological trauma and baggage to the point that he sometimes didn't recognize himself anymore. He'd been to Hell and back (figuratively and literally) and handled all of this trauma by either drowning it with alcohol, violence, or bottling it up to the point that it nearly kills him. You didn't deserve to be around this, you deserved to be with someone that was normal — or at least normal enough.

You were young and beautiful, and barely had any scars (at least from what he could see). You'd been hunting for only a handful of years, so he figured you hadn't been emotionally traumatized as much as he had been over the years, from hunting for almost three decades. Despite being a hunter, you had more years ahead of you than he had.

As he tried to distract himself from you, his mind starting to think about what your boyfriend was like. Was he a hunter like you? Did he live with you? Was he into cars like you were? Why didn't he come to this hunt with you? But Dean knew that he was jealous of him, jealous because he had got to love you unconditionally, and touch you in ways that Dean would never be able to.

He heard the sounds of your clothes hitting the bathroom tile, the shower not even on yet. You were naked just a few feet away from him, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He balled up his fist as he sat at the table, going through his dad's journal — something he hadn't done in such a long time, and tried his best to focus on the pages. But he was having more trouble concentrating than he'd like to admit, because he was too focused on what you were possibly doing in the bathroom.

Finally, the water went on, and he let out a deep breath. "This is gonna be a long few days," he mumbled to himself. Getting up from the chair, he knew that he needed some kind of distraction, because hearing you in the shower was going to be the death of him. "Hey, I'm gonna grab something from the diner down the street. Want anything?"

"Um, if they have apple pie can you get me a slice? If not, bacon cheeseburger please!" You yelled out, no hesitation in your answer whatsoever.

"Fuck me," he mumbled.

"What?" You called out again, sounding a little confused. "Dean?"

"Uh, apple pie or bacon cheeseburger, got it," he said quickly, grabbing his keys and jacket. "I'll be back in two shakes," he called out to you before opening the motel door and quickly shutting it behind him: not even waiting for you to respond to him.

As he locked the door behind him, he hesitated slightly to leave, leaning his forehead against the door gently. He didn't want to leave, that was one of the last things he had wanted, but he needed to in order to try and stop these fantasies of you. The constant wondering of what you currently looked like in the shower, the wondering if you would moan if he kissed your neck; how your soft and smooth skin would feel against the roughness of his own. Stop it, stop it, he repeated.

You barely even had time to answer him, as you heard the motel door slam shut; the sound causing you to jump a little at the suddenness. You had a couple of emotions swirling inside of you: confusion and disappointment. You were confused at the suddenness of the diner question, but you were a little disappointed that he didn't even offer to take you with once you got out of the shower. You couldn't help but wonder if you had done something to offend him in the short amount of time you had been together. No, you've barely done anything, you concluded. You wondered what his deal was, and if something had possibly triggered this reaction from him.

Once finishing up your shower, you did your usual post shower routine — nixing the brushing of your teeth, as you were moments away from devouring either a mouthwatering bacon cheeseburger that rivaled the feeling of sex, or the sweetness of apple pie.

Exiting the bathroom, you grabbed the remote off the side table, hoping that there would be something watchable at this hour besides infomercials. You didn't dislike them, but you preferred something with some substance to it.

Flipping through the channels, you repeated 'No,' a few times, after each switch, not finding anything suitable. But after a few No's in a row, a smile finally graced your lips as you saw the sweet, sweet image of one of your favorite cartoon dogs: Scooby-Doo. It was the start of one of your favorite Scooby-Doo movies too, Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island, and you couldn't help but keep it on the screen.

It was a movie you hadn't seen in such a long time, as back at home, you either had to hide watching this from your boyfriend whenever it was on, or had to skip it all together, as he felt that you shouldn't be watching cartoons at your age. You hoped that Dean wouldn't mind or make fun or you in the same way your boyfriend had did.

Pulling back up to the motel with two bacon cheeseburgers and two slices of pie in the bag next to him, he gripped the steering wheel one final time and took a deep breath. He had only been gone about twenty minutes, and twenty minutes was not enough time. But yet, it seemed like an eternity away from you that he never wanted to face again. He needed to be near you, but he needed to be far away.

He sighed, bracing himself, slightly praying that you had managed to fall asleep while he was gone so he wouldn't have to make awkward conversation with you. You had told him that you were exhausted after all.

But as he reached the motel door, he heard the television on, and he held his ear up to the door to hear what you could possibly be watching at this hour. When his ear reached the door, he chuckled quietly to himself, hearing the voice of his favorite cartoon dog. You're gonna kill me Sweetheart, he thought.

Unlocking the door, he almost had to walk right out. Son of a bitch, he said, thankful that he didn't say it out loud. You were lying on your stomach, holding your head up with your hands, swinging your feet carelessly in the air, with a long shirt on that seemed to be about two sizes too big for you. He hoped to God that you were wearing shorts or underwear underneath.

You turned to him, your smile beaming. "Welcome back," you said. "That was quick."

"Yeah, there was um...no line," he said, clearing his throat. Stop thinking about if she has underwear on, stop thinking about if she has underwear on. Stop objectifying her. "Scooby-Doo," he pointed to the screen, trying to drown out his Rated R thoughts. "Love that dog."

Your smile remained, and it appeared to get wider. "I love Scooby-Doo, and Zombie Island is one of my favorite Scooby-Doo movies," the way your voice sounded made his heart melt; you sounded so incredibly happy. "I'm glad you don't mind, because I don't get to watch this that often." Your eyes looked so sad now, and Dean felt his heart starting to break for you. Did your boyfriend not like when you watched this? He desperately wanted to ask, but knew it wasn't his place to.

"I don't mind at all. You're never too old for cartoons, or Scooby-Doo," he smiled, placing the two bags of food down on the table. "You know, Scooby-Doo is one of those things where, no matter where me, Sammy, and my dad were, it was always on. Sometimes, my dad would be gone for hours or days at a time, and Scooby and the gang and my brother were the only ones that kept me company. Made me feel less alone, even if I felt alone."

Dean's words were making your heart break, hearing about the childhood that he never had, but always wanted. You knew that what he was telling you wasn't meant to be a sad thing but, you could hear it in the way his tone sounded, and the way he smiled, as it slightly looked sad and pained.

As you watched him take the food out of the bags, you smiled with delight seeing that not only did he get bacon cheeseburgers for both of you, but he got two slices of apple pie in addition. "They had both?" You asked, promptly sitting at the table.

"Yeah. I know you said one or the other, but I thought why not get both if they had both?" Dean shrugged, separating the food out. You couldn't help but be weirdly appreciative of this gesture, as this was something that your boyfriend would have never thought to do. He would have gotten one or the other, saying that getting both would have been too much.

The only sounds that filled the air were the comedic stylings of Scooby and the Gang, the occasional laughter from either you and Dean (or both), and the sounds of the pair of you chewing the pie that often came with moaning. Despite there being no talking from either one of you, it was nice and comfortable; no awkwardness to be found. When you looked over at him, he genuinely looked happy. You weren't sure if it was because of Scooby and the Gang, the pie, or both; but it was nice to see him so happy. You didn't have a lot to compare it to, to be fair, but based on stories you had heard from Sam and from other hunters, Dean has had it rougher than most.

You had wanted to tell Dean how much you appreciated having this moment with him, because it was the kind of moment that you didn't get to have very often. But you decided against it, feeling that it would somehow make the moment awkward between the two of you.

A few moments passed, and he was the one that had broken the silence. "Mind if I ask you something?" He asked between bites.

"Sure," you answered.

"How'd you get into hunting?" He asked the dreaded question, and you felt a knot in the pit of your stomach. It was a question you've been asked several times over the years by numerous hunters, but you've always managed to re-focus the question onto them. It wasn't like you had a problem answering the question, but it was something that you had rarely talked about, as the pain of it still seemed so fresh despite it being over five years ago. Your hunting story was something that even your parents didn't know fully, and you were unsure if they would ever know.

But there was something about Dean that had made you feel safe, and made you feel like it was okay to share it with him. But your body wouldn't allow that, and you stayed frozen, almost shut down.

"Hey," Dean said, and hearing his voice made you snap out of the current state that you were in, afraid that if you were in this state any longer, it would have been much harder to reel yourself back in. "Don't sweat it okay?"

"I'm sorry," you apologized, even though you had no reason to.

"Don't be," he reassured you. "Tell me when you're ready."

You nodded back at him, slightly smiling, and feeling relieved that he didn't place any kind of pressure on you to tell. You really did appreciate Dean, even if he didn't realize it.

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 4

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lilacgyuvin · 10 months ago

Text

star — p. gunwook

pairing: gunwook x gn!reader

synopsis: gunwook unfortunately loses his wallet. luckily for him, a good samaritan is kind enough to trace the address on his i.d. and brings it straight to his doorstep! too bad it’s his newly ex-best friend (post-dramatic confession of love).

word count: 3.6k

warnings: highschool!au, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, BARELY proofread, jealous gunwookie, talks of falling out, misunderstandings, miscommunication, feat. seniors hanbin and seunghan (and eunseok), not to be taken serious this is just fiction!!

a/n: needed a break from writing that tattoo artist jiwoong au so i wrote this 🥸

Gunwook’ s lost his wallet.

It’s no big deal! It’s not like his whole life is in there or anything: his money, I.D., credit and debit card, along with his ultra rare Twicecoaster Lane 1 devil Nayeon photocard— yeah, he’d be fine without them.

He only realizes when he get’s on the train home from school, reaching for the photocard for emotional support after the shit week he’s had until he realizes it’s in his wallet which definitely isn’t in any of his pockets right now.

He finally lets out what he thinks is a quiet ‘fuck!’ after patting his pockets down and emptying out his backpack for the third time, which ends up not being as quiet as he originally thought, if the looks from the elderly couple sat across from him are anything to go by.

A few hours go by, and he’s still mourning the loss of devil Nayeon— oh, and all that other stuff too, he guesses. To get his mind off of things, Gunwook thinks a game of Fortnite with his loving friends would do the trick. It’s twenty minutes after when their entire squad gets wiped out (and proceed to get emoted on) is when he retracts that whole idea.

“I’m positive those guys were like, ten year olds. Do you know how embarrassing that is?!” Hanbin’s voice comes from Gunwook’s headset, meshing with the groans of Eunseok and the laughter of Seunghan on the other ends of the call.

“Obviously, it just happened to us! And the audacity. of Gyuvin to leave when he’s the reason we lost. His aim is so fucking ass,” Eunseok speaks loud and fast into his mic, making Gunwook wince at the volume. He seriously needs to start putting his volume down as soon as Eunseok joins. “Why do we still play with him? No, seriously someone answer me, why do we still play with him? Can we replace him with Y/n? Matter fact, I’m calling them right now I can’t do this.”

Seunghan’s laughter comes to a halt the minute their name is mentioned, just like Gunwook’s breathing for a split second.

“Eunseok.” Seunghan says his name and it sounds like Eunseok’s movements come to a stop, the only sound being that of the classic lobby music and the occasional Ps4 notification.

“... Does Gyuvin not have shit aim? I mean, we all saw that.” he says, and Hanbin then decides it’s his turn to speak up. “Maybe don’t talk about Y/n right now.”

It’s only now that Gunwook realizes he hadn’t told Eunseok about the whole ordeal this entire time, and it’s evident in the way he gasps from the other end of the call. “Y/n?! The fuck happened with Y/n? Oh my God please don’t tell me I have to cut them off they’re so fun. Speaking of, we have plans next week on Thursday to this new—”

“Eunseok seriously shut the fuck up.”

“ ‘Kay I’m gonna go heat up my hot pockets.”

Gunwook feels bad since he’s kind of the reason why Eunseok got cursed out by Seunghan. He’ll make it up to him after the upcoming, full on expected pep talk from Hanbin.

“You two still aren’t talking?” he asks the same time Eunseok logs off, and Gunwook thinks that maybe he too can escape this if he leaves without a second thought. He then realizes that Hanbin can literally just call him after he leaves, so he decides to dish it out and get it over with, mumbling his next words. “Well they’re not talking to me.”

It sounds childish, but he wasn’t lying! “The phone works both ways, Gunwook.” he sighs, the sounds of him readjusting in his seat being heard before he’s continuing, “Was it that embarrassing?”

Gunwook forgets that he didn’t explain the extent of the situation to his senior, so it isn’t entirely Hanbin’s fault that he thinks that Gunwook is simply embarrassed, but he can’t help the groan that follows anyway. “It’s not just that. It’s- I can’t even say.”

It’s nothing personal, really— everyone knows that Sunghoon and Y/n used to go out (for a mere 5 months, so Gunwook doesn’t even care for real!). What people didn’t know was how they swore to Gunwook that they’d never get back with him, not even for a second, so when Gunwook finally realizes the feelings he has for his best friend and decides to do something about them (queue chocolates and flowers at the end of the school day), the last thing he expects to see is Y/n and fucking Sunghoon, holding each other in a warm hug, like they’d shrivel up and die if they were to part.

Gunwook wished that had happened to him when he walks into the empty classroom, the wrapping from the flower arrangement in his hands startling the two out of their tight embrace. They looked like a pair of deer caught in headlights, frozen in place as they watch Gunwook’s word die on his tongue, mouth agape as he tries to restore them.

“Sorry. Bad time.” it’s the only coherent thing he can manage to say before he’s making a beeline for the door, too embarrassed and upset to verbalize the rest of his thoughts. Never getting back together, huh? Gunwook’s feeling a lot of things in this current moment, but the one that sticks out the most is how utterly stupid he feels. It’s so intense it almost drives him to anger, but he’s on the train home before it can get to that point, free from the fear of them running after him.

He isn’t particularly proud of what he does when they text him almost immediately after the whole ordeal, only responding after he gets home.

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: omg i’m so sorry i totally forgot you asked to meet up

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: we were just talking

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: did you still wanna talk? where’d you go??

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: gunwook??

You:

sorry i had to rush home

You:

its fine tho lol

You:

i was just gonna ask your opinion on

the flowers i got

You:

they’re for eunchae

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: oh

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: i didn’t know you liked eunchae?

You:

yup

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: okay well then yeah they’re really pretty

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: she’ll really like them

You:

thanks 🙌

Okay don’t look at him like that. He had to save face! He feels bad as soon as he spews the lie out, but then he remembers the way his heart dropped to his ass at the sight of Y/n and Sunghoon hugging, and convinces himself that maybe this was for the best.

What Gunwook doesn’t expect are the two weeks that follow. To describe them in two words: extremely awkward. The following morning, instead of the two taking the train together like they normally do, Gunwook makes up some lame excuse about being late and ends up taking the longer way. They talk during the classes they have together, but it’s all stiff and feels uncomfortable, despite anyone saying anything about it. Going home is the same as the morning was, yet this time it was Y/n who couldn’t make it, saying they had to visit a relative after school.

It was always easy for the two to tell whenever the other was lying, but Gunwook wants to give them the benefit of the doubt, seeing as he wasn’t so truthful himself just recently. When the two do arrive home, there are no texts exchanged or calls that go on for hours on end like usual, and it makes Gunwook uneasy, but the feeling of being rejected without actually being rejected was more prominent in that moment, so he left it alone.

He didn’t know that the lack of communication on both ends would lead to them not talking at all, though! It didn’t help that he’d see them talking with Sunghoon again in the hallway only two days later, rubbing a reassuring hand along their arm, which then prompts him to talk with Eunchae during the period he knows he shares with Y/n. That day is what really set the tone for the rest of the week, he thinks; no calls or texts, passing each other through the hallways, and going home together came to a dead end. All the little things that made Gunwook not absolutely hate school were taken away from him, and he feels it’s partially his fault which made it suck even more.

It took his friends, including his seniors, only two days to realize that something was wrong, which is what’s prompted Hanbin to lecture him every chance he gets for the past two weeks.

“Well maybe you should text them anyway. I bet they miss you just as much as you miss them, right Seunghan?”

There’s absolutely no way Seunghan was listening in, seeing as he doesn’t answer til five seconds later when Hanbin clears his throat. “Oh! Yes, definitely.”

“What are you even here for.”

“Emotional support? I don’t know man, I just wanted to play Fortnite.”

“Seunghan.”

Seunghan whines at the disapproving tone of Hanbin’s voice, not sure how he got roped into being scolded alongside Gunwook. Hanbin’s just that good, he guesses.

“Ugh okay fine. Not gonna lie Gunwook, seeing you two not talking is really depressing, for all of us, and honestly super unsettling. Just tell them how you feel and maybe don’t lie to your crush about having a crush who isn’t actually your crush. How’d I do Hanbin?”

“Absolutely terrible. Please log off.”

Before Seunghan can defend himself against what Hanbin identifies as Useless Senior Syndrome™, there’s a steady knock coming from the front door, successfully getting Gunwook out of the lecturing. “Thanks guys, but I have to go.”

The two can barely bid their goodbyes before Gunwook is logging off, scurrying down the steps as the knocking increases in speed.

“I’m coming!” he half-screams. He knows it isn’t his mom because she always has her keys, so it’s okay that he raised his voice a bit. He honestly thinks it’s Yujin from next door, most likely wanting to borrow Gunwook’s switch again after he miraculously submerged his own into water. He swears to God if he doesn’t return it back on time again—

Oh. This isn’t Yujin.

What stood in front of him held waves of familiarity: one being the navy blue leather-skinned wallet he’d gotten gifted by a relative a while back, the one that’s been home to his ultra rare Twicecoaster Lane 1 devil Nayeon photocard for years now— and the other being the person he’s gotten to know over the past seven years, who’s favorite foods he’s mastered and whose voice he can point out in a room full of thousands. The one who sits through the same old episodes of ‘Haikyuu!!’ with him, despite already seeing them multiple times. His best friend, who he hasn’t talked to in over two weeks, over his own fears and insecurities, is now at his front doorstep with his wallet in their hand, face unreadable to Gunwook for the first time since they’ve met.

“You forgot your wallet in Ms. Chwe’s class.”

Ms.Chwe’s class; the last period that they share with each other, where he was too busy trying to avoid Y/n’s gaze so in turn chatted up anyone who’d listen, not paying enough attention to the wallet that was falling out of his front pocket. Gunwook can’t even feel relieved that his most prized possession is safe, nor can he think of a way to make it anyone else’s fault at the moment given that his (ex?) best friend, who he hasn’t even glanced at in 14 days, is standing at his door with it in hand.

‘What am I supposed to even say?’ The silence that follows after still isn’t as embarrassing as that cursed Wednesday two weeks ago, so he tried to avoid saying anything that may exceed that level. “Thanks… okay bye.”

Okay what the fuck was that. He almost slams his head against the door, but he thankfully doesn’t have to dwell on it for too long, as they’re speaking before he knows it.

“You seriously don’t wanna talk about this?” They say, and Gunwook doesn’t know why it shocks him— they’d always been the confrontational type when needed.

“What do you wanna talk about?” He thinks it’s a pretty valid question, given that they could be referring to multiple things, but Y/n apparently doesn’t think so, if the roll of their eyes were anything to go by.

“You can’t be serious. About how you’ve been ignoring me for the longest!”

“Wha- only because you’ve been ignoring me!”

“That’s what most people do when someone’s been ignoring them first, dumbass.”

Gunwook huffs, he almost forgot how stubborn the both of them could be. “This is going nowhere. Just- come inside.” He gives up, decides to be the bigger person and let them in, not wanting their first interaction in so long to be an argument outside his door. Also because Yujin can be quite the creep and likes to instigate arguments from his bedroom window (he knows this because they’ve done it together).

They make themselves comfortable on the couch best associated with movie nights and hot cocoa during winter break, sitting on opposite ends. The air feels stale, and Gunwook feels like he has to say something before he can let the silence linger any longer. “D’you want some wate-”

“What did I do to you?” he’s cut off, the voice quieter prior to it outside. They turn to face Gunwook with hands gripping both knees reassuringly and— are they crying? “I mean, I’ve been trying to figure it out for so long, but I can't think of anything. Was it the flowers? Did she not like them?”

Gunwook wants to wipe off the face of the Earth. Not only were they crying, but they were kind enough to consider the feelings of others while nursing their own, successfully breaking his heart, while also making him feel unfathomably shitty.

He’s by their side in less than a second, not quite sure what to do with his hands as he lets out a stream of ‘no no no’ and ‘please don’t cry’. They won’t even look at him this time either, opting out to facing the wall in front of them instead. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/n.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me?”

Gunwook sighs, finally deciding to rest his hands on his thighs. “I’m going to tell you, but you have to tell me why you were too, okay?” He asks and they nod almost immediately. “And you can’t laugh either. Seriously, I will kick you out.”

“I’ll walk out myself if you don’t spit it out already.” They attempt to say it threateningly, but they’re pouting and Gunwook hates how cute he finds it, considering their current circumstances.

“Okay I was getting there,” He can’t help the snark remark, and he half blames it on the fact that he’s about to do the thing that he never got to two weeks ago: confess his undying love for his best friend of over seven years to said best friend. Folding his hands atop his legs, Gunwook takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a split second before opening them as he exhales.

“Those flowers weren’t for anyone but you.” He’s not facing them, he absolutely cannot right now, instead focusing his gaze on his now sweaty hands, but he still hears the hitch in their breathing— it’s as clear as day. “I was going to give them to you, tell you about my feelings, but then I saw you with fucking Sunghoon, and I- I don’t know. I just felt so embarrassed and stupid and angry, so I came up with that stupid lie,” He finally finds the courage to face them, looking up to find their eyes already on him. “I’m sorry.”

Silence follows, and Gunwook fully expects it, but fuck was it agonizing. His face is practically on fire and he doesn’t want to break eye contact because he wants to ‘assert male dominance’ or whatever the hell Eunseok was going on about that one time he gave advice absolutely no one asked for, but it’s getting harder as the seconds go by and he just might explode right where he sits.

“Gunwook. You’re not gonna believe this but I was talking to Sunghoon about you,” Oh thank God they broke the silence— but what did they say? “I wanted to know if it’d make things weird between you and him if I asked you out or something, since you two are on the same dance team. I was also asking for advice on how to do it, since I’ve never asked anyone out before. I was going to the day after, but then you said you wanted to confess to Eunchae and I got really upset, I didn’t want to see your face at all.”

It’s now Gunwook’s turn to stare in silence, his previous anxious feeling replaced with one that screamed ‘what the fuck is happening I can’t believe this is happening right now’.

“What.” It’s all he can manage to say at the moment— if he felt stupid before, it’s definitely hitting harder this time around. He was avoiding his crush (who also has a crush on him, apparently?!), his best friend, all over nothing. His cheeks are becoming hot again and he feels like crying.

In classic Gunwook fashion, he does the most rational thing he can think of at the moment and bows his head beside their lap, clasping his hands in front of it as he lets out streams of ‘I’m sorry’, catching them completely off guard.

“Get up! It’s fine Gunwook, seriously." They reassure him, but he doesn’t dare get up from his position, only raising his head ever so slightly. “You still like me? Even though I lied to you and made you cry?”

They seem to find humor in his current predicament, giggling as they move a hand to pat his head. “I shed one tear. And dude, I lied too. I’m sorry as well, I was just scared.” It’s said with earnest, and Gunwook can feel it through their gaze once he finally gains the courage to lift himself up, his confidence fully restored. “Okay if we’re gonna date, you cannot call me dude anymore.”

“Is this you asking me out for real this time?” A hint of amusement makes its way onto their face, lolling their head to the side as they ask.”

“Yes. Wait no.” The switch up visibly confuses them, even more so when Gunwook gets up from his seat, instructing them to ‘wait here’ as he runs to the kitchen, coming back with a single flower. “My mom wouldn’t let them go to waste. They’re in a vase and she’ll kill me if I take all of them.”

They laugh, both because Gunwook was so so sweet and because his mom really would kill him. “Will you go out with me?” He knows it’s short, but he could tell them all the things he likes about them over takeout, and he really wants to kiss them right now.

“That was lackluster,” They say as they snatch the flower from their hands, but their actions are words are laced with playfulness, and they contradict themselves when they move to embrace him in a warm hug. “But yes, since you asked so nicely.”

Gunwook almost shoves them away if it weren’t for how intimate the current moment was. He’s glad they can still play around after spending so much time apart from each other. “Shut up! I just wanted to kiss you already. Wait, would that be weird?”

They look up, contemplating it for a second before they look back at him with a shrug. “I don’t know, but you can give me a kiss on the cheek. The one that isn’t wet.”

He takes takes that as a win, holding their damp cheek in favor of landing a peck on the opposite. Then another on their forehead. And another on the same cheek, but in a different place. It soon turns to him showering them with kisses all over, causing them to fall back on the cushions as they begin to laugh, taking Gunwook down with them as he refuses to stop. “Gunwook! I said one!”

He doesn’t even have the mind to grace them with an answer as he joins them in laughter, too overjoyed and buoyant with that fact that he’s now free from many things; free from hiding his feelings, from his insecurities now that their feelings were laid bare and are mutual, and free from pretending that he was okay letting his best friend falls into the hands of another. He no longer has to worry about any of that though, as they’re right where he wants them, where he deems perfect.

The cafeteria is booming as always, Gunwook and his friends (seniors and same-age mates alike) already seated at their table as they await the arrival of a few others. None of them say anything about the way Gunwook and Y/n are holding hands under the table, but there are definitely shared glances exchanged between Hanbin and Seunghan.

It’s only been two days since Gunwook’s actual successful confession, and they still have yet to say it outright, so they’ve just decided to let everyone come to their own conclusions. He thinks they’re on the right track though, with the way they shot him a thumbs up from across the table.

“Y/n!” It’s yelled from behind them, making the entire table, if not the whole cafeteria turn their heads to the source of the noise. Gunwook wishes he could say he was surprised as to who it was.

Eunseok practically tackles Y/n with the force in which he runs to their side, engulfing them in a hug from behind. “I thought I was gonna lose you! Don’t tell Gunwook, but you’ve always been my favorite junior.”

“I’m right here.”

“Shut up dont ruin this for me.”

a/n: we all know gunwook would be a communication king but i wanted to write this anyway. and guys i promise i can write things other than love confessions gimme like two weeks!!! also recs are open likes + reblogs are always appreciated ty baii

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totalswag · 9 months ago

Note

could you do headcannons of drew starkey x singer!reader? where his schedule is free for some months so he goes on tour with her, and she has a nessa barrett/young forever vibe. 🩷🩷

support buddy — DREW STARKEY

authors note this was such a great idea because i’m currently in the works of making a singer!reader x drew starkey 🤭. i hope you really like this lovie :) i’ve listen to a few of nessa’s music and i have a couple songs that are some of my favorites of hers!!!

summary drew joining you on tour while he has time off from filming.

taglist! if you would like to be added to my taglist leave a comment or let me know by sending me in my ask.

warnings drew being a supportive boyfriend.

➪ Drew has been filming his new movie in Europe while you are on tour, performing at sold-out shows. You both miss each other a lot.

➪ Drew had informed you that he would be taking a few months break from filming and that he would love to join you on tour during this period. That made you very delighted, and you had originally meant to ask him.

➪ The entire time he's been with you has been memorable. Every second and moment is forever captured. Will never forget this.

➪ "You are gonna do amazing baby, promise," Drew tells you between kisses in the dressing room before you had to walk onto stage.

➪ The sound of screaming fans could be heard from the audience as you walked closer to stage, hand in hand with Drew.

➪ Half an hour into the show, everyone is having an amazing time. You’ve played songs from your newest album that has a different feel and vibe to it compared to your first album.

➪ When you were in the middle of talking to the fans when a large crowd starts screaming on the side where Drew and his cast of Outer Banks stood at the private area on the second floor.

➪ You smiled into the microphone, making fans pay attention at you, "My lovely boyfriend decided to join me on tour for a month while he has time off from filming, and it's been amazing," fans all awed.

➪ Drew waved to the excited fans below him with a kind smile.

➪ The rest of the show consisted of songs from your album as well as older songs that you had previously performed. You often glanced at Drew, blowing him a kiss or simply smiling at his beautiful face.

➪ You played two songs from your album that you wrote about Drew that mean a lot to you. You wrote this when you were going through a tough time in your life and he was the one that was there for you.

➪ Cried throughout various portions of the song, along with fans who had their phones out, capturing the times when you looked up at Drew and never took your focus away from him. The moment was lovely.

➪ After the show, you rushed into Drew's arms. He whispered nice things into your ear just for you to hear. He wanted to take you somewhere special—just the two of you.

➪ "Where are we going?" you innocently inquire. "Somewhere that will keep your mind relaxed and listen to the sounds of water hitting shore," Drew answers between laughter.

➪ The rest of the month with Drew continued to be the best times filled with a lot of emotions and happy moments.

my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.

@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight @chenslucy @brooklynscherry-z @johannelis2302nely @rosezza @solanathascientst

#drew starkey #drew starkey x singer!reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fic #drew starkey headcanons #drew starkey x you #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x y/n

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otomehonyaku · 3 months ago

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS Eternal Blood Animate Tokuten CD ☽ Vol. 1 & 2 ・A Certain Day at the Mukami Household

Original title: ある日の無神家 Voiced by Sakurai Takahiro (Ruki), Suzuki Tatsuhisa (Yuma) English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the audio (as always, BIG thank you to @karleksmumskladdkaka!)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This CD was very generous with the fan service, to say the least... I can safely say it's one of my new absolute favourites! The cooing, the teasing, the brotherly banter, Ruki's tired dad energy near the end, and both Ruki and Yuma fawning over you? _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): I hope you have as much fun listening and reading along as I had translating it!

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

00:00 [The scene starts with Ruki quietly reading in his room.]

Ruki: What a lovely day it is today. A pleasant breeze is coming in from the window, and time is passing ever so slowly... There couldn’t be a more perfect time to read.

[Ruki turns a page.]

Ruki: I see. There’s much more to this book than I thought. I only bought it on a whim to pass the time, but… it’s actually not bad at all.

[Ruki turns another page and continues reading. The sound of rushed footsteps comes from the hallway.]

Ruki: Oh. Those footsteps… Is that Yuma?

[Ruki snaps his book shut with a sigh.]

Ruki: If he’s heading this way, he probably wants something from me. I’d hoped to spend a quiet day alone, but it seems like I’ll have to let that go…

[Yuma bursts into the room.]

Yuma: Hey! This’s bad, Ruki!

Ruki: Do not run in the hallway. Knock. Wait before I answer until I open the door. How many times do I have to tell you all of this?

Yuma: There’s somethin’ much more important that I need you to take a look at. You got time, right?

Ruki: What happened? You came all this way to disturb my reading, so at least tell me why.

Yuma: You’ll know the reason when you just come to the garden ‘n look at it.

Ruki: At what?

[The scene shifts to the Mukami mansion's vegetable garden.]

Ruki: Ah… What on Earth is this? Hey, you. You were here together with Yuma, right? Explain the situation.

[You try to explain, but you’re so worked up that you keep stumbling over your words.]

Ruki: I shouldn’t have asked you. I can’t have a conversation with you when you can't even string together a sentence.

Yuma: Well… you know how most of the veggies in the garden are pretty much ripe for the pickin’ right now? She was pickin’ them for me, and then she suddenly called out that she saw somethin’ underneath the dirt. So, I got curious and dug it up, and it was… this.

[Yuma pats the box next to him.]

Ruki: This box? It looks like a coffin. You could lock up a full-sized human in there.

02:04 Yuma: Haha. You ain’t wrong. Like you said, it might be a coffin. Might be a vampire inside that was buried while he was sleepin’ or somethin'.

[You definitely don’t like the idea of that.]

Yuma: What, you scared something’s gonna jump out at you? You’d better fight like hell. Heh.

[You ask him what he would do if something were to jump out at you.]

Yuma: Huh? I’m just gonna stand by ‘n watch, of course. I ain’t comin’ to your rescue for free.

[Yuma comes closer.]

Yuma: If you want me to save ya, you got somethin’ to give me in return, right? That sweet stuff that’s flowin’ in your veins… Make me an offer and I might give it some thought.

Ruki: Yuma. That’s enough.

Yuma: Yeah, yeah, got it.

[Ruki steps closer to the box.]

Ruki: Hmm… The lid of the box seems to have a lock on it, but it’s in really bad condition. It looks like it would open easily.

Yuma: So? Let’s take a look inside.

Ruki: Hold on, Yuma. Don’t do anything reckless. Haven’t you read any literature on these kinds of things?

Yuma: Literature?

Ruki: These kinds of boxes are often traps. I’ve read about them in books. For example, there was one case in which a box washed up on a seashore. A man opened the box and smoke poured out, which gathered into the shape of an old man. It’s likely some kind of curse.

Yuma: Those kinds of curses exist?

Ruki: And then there are also these boxes of various sizes, collectively called tsuzura. You’re pressured to choose a single box, and if you choose the biggest one, there’s a trap inside: a monster jumps out of it. There are innumerable examples.

04:01 Yuma: Really? That’s some scary shit.

[You tell them those are probably made-up stories.]

Ruki: Oh? Do you really think they’re mere myths, Livestock? I’ll let you open the box, then.

[You immediately backpedal and try to run away, but Ruki catches you.]

Ruki: Oh, no. Don’t think you can run away now.

[You tell him you don’t want to do it.]

Ruki: You’re the one who said they’re myths. This is an order from your master. Hurry up and open it. If a monster really were to jump out, you’d have nowhere to run. It could easily tear you to pieces. I wonder what happens when it sinks its teeth into this pale skin of yours…

[Ruki’s hands palm your bare skin. You get flustered and try to move away.]

Ruki: What’s wrong? Did you already imagine it just by me touching you? Ah… So you actually prefer pain over pleasure.

[Ruki pulls you closer.]

Ruki: Don’t lie to me. You’re eagerly awaiting it, aren’t you? Your body seems to be trembling in delight, actually. Show me that expression of yours properly.

[Ruki grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.]

Ruki: Oh. I see the colour has completely drained from your face. Fear is not such a bad look on you. Well, then—do as your master tells you and open that lid.

[You tell him you’re scared and repeat that you really don’t want to.]

Ruki: That’s precisely why I’m making you do it, of course.

[You’re on the verge of tears.]

Ruki: Heh. You look miserable when you’re about to burst into tears. It’s quite enjoyable. However, you seem to be misunderstanding something. I’m not doing this to punish you. It’s your reward for helping Yuma.

[Ruki pulls you even closer while you struggle.]

06:03 Ruki: To have your will completely ignored, your body pinned down until you have no choice but to obey… you actually get off on such wretched situations, don’t you? I’ll make you humiliate yourself. Now, how about you wag your little tail in delight and do as I say?

[You violently shake your head.]

Ruki: Good grief… You really don’t know when to give up, do you? You still have no intention of obeying?

Yuma: You’ve really gotten more stubborn since you started livin’ with us. Or, well, you were prolly already stubborn from the get-go.

Ruki: Livestock who don’t follow orders don’t do themselves any favours in terms of charm. Ah. Let’s do this on different terms, then. If you open the lid, I’ll make you your favourite for dinner.

[That piques your interest. You immediately say you’ll do it.]

Yuma: That makes you agree straight away?!

Ruki: Ah… I’ve clearly been using the wrong methods to discipline you. It’s like I’ve got one more Kou or Yuma in my household…

Yuma: What do Kou ‘n I gotta do with that? Well, fine by me, though. Besides, this lid’s pretty heavy. You sure you can lift it with those tiny arms?

[You try to lift the lid but fail miserably.]

Yuma: It ain’t movin’ at all. Are you even tryin’? Put some more effort into it or Ruki’s just gonna yell at you.

[The lid still doesn’t budge despite your best efforts.]

Yuma: I thought you said you’d do it yourself. How pathetic.

[You give up.]

Yuma: You’re so hopeless it ain’t even funny. Hey, Ruki. It’ll take all day if we leave this to her.

Ruki: It certainly seems that way. It can’t be helped, I suppose. Lend her a hand.

Yuma: Gotcha. Let’s see… I’ll give you a hand, so at least put some effort into it, alright? If you can’t open that lid, I’ll sink my fangs into you so deep you’re gonna beg for mercy. Makes it a bit more thrilling, right? Really, though. You keep yapping about the lid being heavy, but how heavy’s it really?

[Yuma gives a little push and the lid gives right away.]

08:24 Yuma: Huh? The fuck? It ain’t even that heavy. You really are useless. You shoulda been able to lift it lickety-split, Sow. I’ve given you a head start, so you do the rest. I’ll let go, so don’t drop the lid, alright?

[Yuma lets go and you immediately almost drop the lid.]

Yuma: C’mon, hold it up a little higher, Sow! Are you really puttin’ all your strength into it? You look like an idiot. Makes me wanna laugh. If you don’t put in the effort like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, we’ll start from scratch again. Jeez… I’ll teach you how it’s done.

[Yuma puts a hand on your lower back, which startles you.]

Yuma: Here, right here. Focus your strength in your lower back when you brace yourself. What, you ticklish?

[You shake your head.]

Yuma: Ah, I see, I see. So you’re just weak? Besides, you can’t really fight back when you got your hands full. Even if I were to do this…

[Yuma puts his hands on you again.]

Yuma: Hehe. That’s a great reaction. Doesn’t matter how tough a position you’re in, you still love it, dontcha? You’re workin’ so hard so hold up that lid, but I wonder what’ll happen if I do it again…

[You unconsciously brace yourself.]

Yuma: You’re shiverin’ like a little rabbit. Ah, come to think of it, there’s a lil’ somethin’ on your clothes…

[Yuma puts his hands on your waist and squeezes. You almost drop the lid.]

Yuma: Haha! Don’t let go so easily. Are your sides really that weak? Besides, I think you know already, but if you let go, you lose. Hm… You don’t wanna get punished, do ya? Better fix that attitude ‘n please your owner. Brace yourself ‘n take it. C’mon, c’mon!

[Yuma tickles and gropes you until you finally break and drop the lid.]

10:24 Yuma: Ah, for shame. Now the lid’s closed again. Time’s come for this useless little piggy’s punishment.

[Yuma grabs you from behind and pulls you against him. Your arms are trapped behind you.]

Yuma: Well, you can’t run away when I’ve got you from behind like this. Your chest’s completely unprotected. Should we punish you right here, right now? C’mon, Ruki. Join in on the fun.

Ruki: Good grief. What are you playing around for? However… You didn’t follow your master’s orders. This indeed calls for punishment.

[Ruki walks over to you. You turn your head to the side in embarrassment.]

Ruki: Are you trying to seduce me, exposing your neck to me like that? You really lack discipline.

[Ruki trails his fingers along your neck, causing you to shiver.]

Ruki: Heh. You’re already losing control of your body just from a little touch of my fingers. Did you fail on purpose because you actually want to be punished? Normally, I would’ve sunk my fangs into you right away, but I think I’ll keep you in suspense today.

[Ruki trails his fingers along your skin again—your cheek and your ear this time.]

Ruki: Your cheek, your ear… Where would you like me to bite you?

[You tremble.]

Ruki: What’s wrong? You’re already trembling from my fingers tracing your skin… Does it excite you that much?

[You deny it.]

Yuma: You can deny it all you want, but you don’t sound very convincing. You’re just covered in weak spots, right? I bet you’ll cry out nicely when I touch your back. Let’s see…

[Yuma caresses your back and your voice slips.]

12:00 Yuma: Haha. What was that shameless sound just now? That’s all it takes to turn you on? What a lewd lil' thing you are.

[You struggle.]

Yuma: For fuck's sake... What’re you actin’ all innocent for when you’re clearly beggin’ to be touched?

Ruki: Are you writhing like that because you want it so badly it hurts, then? You’re out of luck, though—I’ll drag it out. You won’t learn discipline if you always get what you want right away, after all. I'll caress you slowly, deliberately, until you’re absolutely flushed with heat...

[You quietly protest, but like Yuma said, you don’t sound convincing at all.]

Yuma: Nah, you’re actually way into this, ain’t you? If you want our fangs, beg for it.

Ruki: Where would you like me to bite you? Tell me. I can't promise that I’ll honour your wishes, though.

[You struggle against them with all your might, kicking and screaming.]

Yuma: Hey, calm down—

[You accidentally kick the coffin in your efforts to get away.]

Yuma & Ruki: Huh?

Yuma: Oh, dammit. Now part of the lid’s broken because you were kickin’ so hard.

Ruki: The coffin itself has deteriorated quite a bit, too. That said, your kicking did most of the damage. Yuma. Let her go. Her punishment is on hold for now. We can’t have her destroy that coffin before we confirm what’s inside.

Yuma: Well, whatever.

[Yuma lets you go and your knees immediately give out.]

Yuma: Haha. What’re you sittin’ down for? Didya really feel that good? Well, we’ll take our sweet time with you when we continue later. I mean, you wanna see what’s inside the coffin too, right?

[You get up again.]

Ruki: Yuma, can you open it up?

Yuma: Yeah, hold on—

[Yuma opens the lid of the coffin all the way.]

Yuma & Ruki: Oh?

Yuma: The hell’s this?

Ruki: They look like kimono (1) and combs from a long time ago…

Yuma: There’s a whole bunch of stuff that I don’t really recognise, too…

Ruki: I see. It seems we’ve unearthed a time capsule.

14:08 Yuma: A time… capsule? What’s that?

Ruki: People put various things from their time in a box and bury it. Usually, they’re unearthed after a long time, when someone wants to reminisce.

Yuma: Why’s it buried here in the garden?

Ruki: I don’t know what happened on this land before the Mukami mansion was built. However, whoever buried this box clearly put a lot of thought into it.

Yuma: Huh. So what’re we gonna do with it?

[You suggest burying it again to preserve its contents.]

Ruki: Easy for you to say, considering you were kicking it earlier. However, I have no objections to that idea. Let’s put it back in the ground.

Yuma: Even though we went through all that trouble to dig it up?

Ruki: We have no need for it.

Yuma: Well, that’s true. Let’s bury it somewhere where it won’t interfere with my garden. I don’t really get it, though. What’s fun about preservin’ the past?

Ruki: I wonder. It’s a human endeavour first and foremost, though. It has little to do with us.

[You shift on your feet.]

Yuma: Huh? What’s up?

[You tell him you understand.]

Yuma: Understand what?

[You explain.]

Yuma: The feelin’ of wantin’ to cherish your memories?

Ruki: Heh. Memories are worthless. It’s truly something for shallow humans to want to convey memories from their own time period to later generations. Do not think there’s any worth in doing that.

[You disagree. You’ve made nice memories with the Mukami family, after all.]

Ruki: What?

Yuma: Haha. Well said. So, even though you haven’t had it easy since you started livin’ with us, you still made some good memories?

[You nod.]

Yuma: Heh. Isn’t that ‘cause we’ve trained (2) you to think that? Well, I do kinda get what you’re sayin’. Everyone’s got at least some precious memories, after all. Right, Ruki?

16:08 Ruki: Heh. Still, I don’t understand the need to bury them where they’ll never see the light of day.

Yuma: Yeah, I’m with you on that.

[You try to convince them, but…]

Yuma: Nah, it’s alright. Besides, you gotta help me bury this thing again. And after that, we’ve still got harvestin’ to do!

[You’re surprised.]

Ruki: Heh. You unearthed it, so it’s only logical that you have to help burying it again. You’d better work up a sweat while you’re at it.

Yuma: Hey, Ruki. You’re already here anyway, so lend us a hand too, will ya? With the harvestin’ and all.

Ruki: What? You’re seriously asking me that?

Yuma: You’re makin’ her her favourite for dinner, right? We won’t make it in time for dinner if you don’t harvest the necessary veggies yourself.

Ruki: Tch. That’s not something I should need to dirty my hands for. Hey. Harvest whatever you’d like to eat yourself.

Yuma: C’mon, Ruki. Put in the work for once. You’ll be covered in mould eventually if you keep readin’ so much.

Ruki: You might want to consider that we’re vampires. Do you seriously think there are other vampires who think it’s healthy to work outside on days when the sun’s this bright?

Yuma: I like it, so that’s all that matters! You think so too, right?

Ruki: For fuck’s sake... I won’t do it. I refuse!

Yuma: It’s alright, it’s alright! Hurry ‘n c’mere!

Ruki: You two do it!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Besides the obvious traditional Japanese clothing, the word kimono literally means ‘things to wear’ and can also be understood as ‘clothes’ more generally. I think the latter may also apply here.

調教（ちょうきょう）refers to the training of animals.

#like honestly. translator is DECEASED this CD was so fucking hot even though there was no bloodsucking involved augh #diabolik lovers #dialovers #diabolik lovers translation #diahell #diabolik lovers translations #otomehonyaku #my translations #mukami ruki #ruki mukami #mukami yuma #mukami yuuma #yuuma mukami #yuma mukami #eternal blood #diabolik lovers eternal blood #diabolik lovers drama cd #diabolik lovers drama cds

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drconstellation · 1 year ago

Text

First-Order Archangels

Part 1: Maybe You'll Spot An Archangel

GABRIEL: I told you you could ask. However, I am the only First-Order archangel in the room, or, you know, the Universe, so I'm not gonna answer so much. But you feel free to knock yourself out with all the asking.

While I was writing my meta series The Passion Of Jimbriel it became fairly obvious to me there was something more going on between Crowley and Gabriel in S2 than just the numerous pointers to Crowley's pre-fall angel status. They are acting as both parallels and foils to each other, and in places you can swap their characters and get the same story at a different time – and that just opens up a whole new window of context and insight into things. For pre-reading, see this meta from @vidavalor that nicely lists some obvious parallels. It doesn’t mention everything though, so I’m going to discuss parts in more detail.

A foil is a character who contrasts with the protagonist, to highlight or differentiate certain qualities between the characters. Crowley and Gabriel do this because they have come from essentially the same place, and share some story elements, but they still end up in different places.

There is a lengthy original discussion about Crowley's pre-fall angel status here, for pre-reading. It points out the obvious and some not so obvious points that ops have noticed in S2 telling us about Crowley's pre-fall status. Rather than just go through them all again, I'd like to look at some other scenes in S2 that also tell us something about both the similarities and the differences between these two high-powered entities as I go along. In addition, I’ve done a series of posts looking at Gabriel as a shoulder angel (links at the end of post,) because quite often he’s on the demonic left-hand side – which makes sense when you realize he’s a Crowley parallel.

Take the arrival of Gabriel to Whickber St and the bookshop. I’ve already mentioned this parallel story line a couple of times now, but lets look at it again in more detail. It mirrors the opening of S1E1 where the serpent climbs the wall of the Garden of Eden, morphs into a demon and starts to converse with the angel standing on the wall.

Back in the present day, we have a Gabriel, who also tends to present on the sinister-side, walking up to the gate of the present day Garden (the bookshop), which is still guarded by the same angel as it was 6000 years ago, and basically tells Aziraphale he has “fallen.”

How to we know this? It is a reference to the Fall of Man, when Adam and Eve ate the apple the serpent offered them, they suddenly became aware of their nakedness, and hid from God. Gabriel has already upset the love-apple tomato cart on his way to the door of the bookshop, its a sign of the chaos to come.

The fallen angel is not sure of his name, so he prompts with a question…

And asks for shelter under the (reluctant) angel’s wing..

But there is one thing he does know, the one thing that drew him to Aziraphale in the first place:

AZIRAPHALE: Then why did you come to my shop? GABRIEL: I don't know. I just thought I should. You know what it's like when you- when you don't know anything at all, and yet you're totally certain that everything would be better if you were just near one particular person?

Later, Aziraphale realizes that he must give Gabriel a new name to hide him – because fallen angels take on a new name, don’t they? Just like Crowley did.

Then we get a confession:

Which is what Crowley loves about Aziraphale as well - that bit of unpredictability, because you know how humour kind of works? It throws the unexpected at you.

Early on in S2 we find out they are both in trouble: first His Royal Smugness, then Our Hero himself. Our view is turned upside down, with the angel made the bad guy and the demon the good guy who needs to win. But both of them are being hunted by Shax.

Then we get one of the early clues pointing to Crowley's high status as an angel:

SHAX: A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of Archangels could've performed. CROWLEY: Mm? SHAX: Somewhere very close to your friend's bookshop. Are you telling me you don't know what caused it? CROWLEY: How'd you know I didn't do it?

Shax stalks and threatens both of them, sometimes at the same time:

Another parallel Gabriel and Crowley shared in S2 were associating their identity - no, lets rephrase that - "essence" was one description I've seen - with boxes.

Gabriel arrives with a box that strategically covers his front, and quickly tosses it aside once Aziraphale opens the door to the bookshop. It lies forgotten until Gabriel mentions it a while later. Inside it is the fly from Beelzebub - an object from Hell - so it really needs to be 'invited' across the threshold of the bookshop by Aziraphale to be able to enter. The box initially appears to be empty, Once inside, the fly is free to roam. It has a message written on one side of it.

The same goes for the matchbox. Message included.

ah, wot? you say. Yep.

The matchbox represents Crowley, probably in more ways than one, but I'll just go through the stuff relevant to this meta here.

I notice I'm not the only op to connect the line from the Book of Job on the side of the matchbox with Crowley. The line is from Verse 41, which talks about Leviathan. Among the various shapes it is described to take is a great sea serpent. This deserves its own meta for further discussion, which I plan to do after this one, because yes, Crowley is Leviathan in disguise, but there is much more to it than that. But for now, just know that the matchbox is Crowley.

Once you know this, it makes sense that Muriel finds it - a discarded cardboard box by the front door to Heaven - and deals with a material object that shouldn't by rights exist in Heaven. Then a certain demon finds Muriel lurking outside during the siege on the bookshop at the end of S2E5, and talks them into letting the certain demon be escorted up into Heaven where he doesn't belong, where he's free to roam around - only he needs a guide because he's not sure where to go. Ah Muriel, you poke the Serpent, he's going to poke you back. Good thing he likes you, and it just was a gentle nudge.

Two empty boxes, two cases of memory-loss. That is what S2 seems to suggest to us at first glance.

Gabriel's seems to be the most straight forward in hindsight - find the fly and restore Gabriel to his original "Gabriel-ness." But its more complicated than that. When pushed to remember, his lilac eyes return and another voice can be heard speaking through him of the past. This happens twice, with the second one being part-prophecy. What is really triggering these episodes of channeling? Is it God or someone else speaking through him? We really aren't sure at this point in time.

Then there are questions around Crowley's memory. Did he have his memory wiped when he fell? Was it wiped repeatedly? Was it not wiped at all, and he just pretends he doesn't remember? Neil has even said he is an unreliable narrator about his own Fall, so who are we to trust at this point? Crowley does seem to understand in the end some of the problems Gabriel is having with his absent memories and that brings them to a temporary truce.

Both Aziraphale and Michael inspect their respective "empty" boxes, and neither notices anything obviously amiss. Gabriel's box just seems empty to Aziraphale, he takes no notice of the fly container in there, and archangel Michael tentatively inspects the matchbox brought to them by Muriel but nothing seems out of place there either.

Crowley's change in costume in Heaven during his little infiltration caper with Muriel is also another clue to his past status as an archangel. He has a silvery-gray suit, similar in style to Saraqael's to reinforce the link with them, but at the same time he is also mocking the other archangels and their elite status. We've assumed for a while now that the appearance of the tactical turtleneck signals that Crowley is up to something sneaky or spy related, but I'm starting to think it also relates to a bit of a power play (and Crowley certainly laid the power on for Mr Brown in the pub!) Looking back at S1, Gabriel's not adverse to wearing one either when he needs to be at his worst (or best. Your choice.)

The way one dresses is a way of expressing and reinforcing authority, and its something both Gabriel and Crowley do without much thought. They have been used to being in a position of power and/or independent authority for much of their existence, and I would say that even if Crowley is a few steps down now from where he started, and he's more cautious around those higher ranking than him than he used to be, he still retains that knowledge of what its like to be at the top.

Crowley's usual near all-black costume is a form of power dressing in itself. Whether is was in the past, when black was an expensive color to buy and maintain in clothing, or in the present day, we are still respectful of those in a stylish cut of black.

Gabriel's impeccable tailoring as Supreme Archangel also commands respect. So it's no wonder that one of Gabriel's first requests on regaining his memories was to ask for new clothes! He wasn't just being the vain archangel we believe him to be (although, I think there is still some of that) you also need to consider the elements of the reference characters that went into his shop assistant character: Granville, the belittled shop assistant nephew from the sitcom Open All Hours, who got stuck with all the shop duties from his uncle and felt like life was passing him by, and the silly Monty Python gumbies, that complained of hurting brains - lovable and much loved characters, but not ones you'd really want to be forever. We all want to be loved, but we want to be respected as well.

For all his fierce posturing around Gabriel, there is a brief moment in S2E3 where Crowley backs down and treats Gabriel as an equal - and that is reflected in a change of dress as well. His outside jacket off and sleeve-garters on, Crowley sports a look we haven't seen since S1 when he was home alone in his Mayfair flat. He patiently explains gravity to a curious Gabriel and then describes his "Operation Lovebirds" plan to his puzzled companion. He admits he hasn't "done weather in ages." It's just a quiet, charming moment, watching two ex-archangels get along together.

You're smiling, aren't you?

This meta continues in Part 2: Foils of War, where the differences between Gabriel and Crowley get explored in more detail, and how Aziraphale and Beelzebub act as mirrors to each other a few times as well.

This meta is part of a series on Gabriel: Gabriel as a Shoulder Angel: S1 Study S2 Study Part 1: Ep.1 The Arrival and Ep. 2 The Clue S2 Study Part 2: Ep.3 I Know Where I'm Going and Ep. 5 The Ball S2 Study Part 3: Ep.6 Every Day

First-Order Archangels Part 2: Foils of War

First-Order Archangels Part 3: Seeing Eye to Eye

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #crowley #gabriel #the only first-order archangel in the room #or you know the universe #aziraphale #garden of eden #fallen angel #his royal smugness #how will our hero cope #maybe you'll spot an archangel #book of job #vavoom

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warmaidensrevenge · 11 months ago

Text

It's not a never.

Pairing: Eddie x best friend!Fem reader

A/N: Hey loves. Hope you all had a great week. Tonight's fic is part one of two. I hope all you like it. As always thanks for reading. Kay love ya byyyye.

I do not give permission for my work to be posted anywhere else. Please respect all creators. Also, all pictures and songs are from a Google search and found on Spotify. A credit to original posters and artists. Thank you for your work.

Word count: 3,045

Warnings: 18+ No minors please. Language, angst, sexual implications and not proof read.

Summary: New feelings? Yeah Eddie's got it bad.

Part 1

Eddie looked around the cafeteria table at his friends. “ Uhhhh you're joking…you gotta be joking…pfff that's hilarious.”

Everyone sat there in silence.

“ Guys? Seriously?! No way! No fuckin way!” He said, putting his hands up. “ Nope!”

He locked eyes with you and raised his brows. “ Common, you agree with me right?”

You averted your gaze to your lunch and shrugged.

He looked at the imbecile that brought up the subject in the first place. “ You turned her against me!”

Gareth scoffed. “ Dude no. All I'm trying to say is that prom is like a highschool right of passage. I don't know about you, but I don't want to miss out.”

Eddie tuts and narrowed his eyes at him. “ Miss out on what exactly? Penguin suits?”

You answered his question. “ You guys don't have to wear tuxedos. You can wear all black. Like always.”

He shot you a look and you smiled at him.

He rolled his eyes. “ Okay how about shitty music?”

You answered again. “ They're bound to play something good.”

He gave snake eyes now to you and you stuck your tongue at him.

“ Okay how about all of us are broke and we can't afford a limo?”

You opened your mouth to respond but he pressed his lips and widened his eyes at you.

Grant cleared his throat. “ Ehem. Well, you do have a van.”

Eddie licked his lips and looked at his lunch box. “ You guys are nuts. I'm admitting you all to Arkham…I-I can't believe you're trying to convince me to go to prom…Where the hell am I gonna find a date?”

“ Eddie, we're going together as a group. No dates.”

He looked up at you and you gave him a pout. God he hated when you did that. He could never say no when you put your lip out like that.

“Do you even own any dresses?” He asked sarcastically.

When you beamed at him, he gave you a defeated look. You'd convinced him.

You smirked.“ Oh you'd be surprised what I have in my closet.”

Eddie sat there and kept shaking his head while his friend talked about the plan for prom.

…

He couldn't believe it. Eddie absolutely could not believe he was doing this. He was driving to a damn dance. It was the last thing in the world he thought he would be doing. Yet here he was. Pulling up to the last stop before prom.

He lowered the music and parked in front of your house. He honked the horn and waited.

A minute passes and he sees your mom open the door. She then motioned for them to come in.

Eddie sighed when he saw her waving a camera. This was not a night he wanted to remember. Or there to be any evidence of it ever happening.

Everyone hopped out and walked to the house.

“ Oh my! You guys look sharp.” Victoria said, giving them each a hug.

Eddie grinned and gave her a warm embrace. “ Look who's talking. You look ravishing.”

Victoria playful slapped his chest. “ Oh you.”

“ Seriously Eddie? Dude, stop hitting on my mom.”

He turned his head to give you a smirk but instead his jaw nearly hit the floor.

There was only one word to describe how you looked coming into the foyer in your off the shoulders black satin dress.

Beautiful.

That word along with your name in the same sentence was not normal. Well other than him saying (That nat 20 was beautiful y/n.)

But now you are beautiful. Not that he thought you were ugly or something. It's just he never thought about that at all.

You were just one of the guys. A kid that liked to ride bikes and wrestle with boys. A kid that didn't care if you got dirty or cried when you scraped your knee.

You were one of his best friends and up until now, he never saw you as anything more.

“ Stop gawking dude.”

Your comment woke him up from his initial shock.

“ Ermmm. Y-you clean up alright kid.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “ Gee thanks. I appreciate that. You don't look awful yourself. I see you pulled out your funeral attire.”

He looked down at his black short sleeve button up and his uncle's black slacks. Along with his white Reeboks.

“ Well you did say-” he looked up and you turned around and went to say hi to everyone else.

You always did that. Whenever he was gearing up to argue, you would walk away. It always irritated the living fuck out of him. However, right now all he could do was smile to himself.

Before the group pictures you had gotten each of them a white rose to pin on their shirt. Eddie watched you smile happily as you and your mom put them on.

When it was his turn, his heart started to race. You were so close to him, he could smell your perfume. It was sweet and floral. Playful yet sexy. Something he could smell forever. He could just bury his nose in your neck and die happily.

He shook off the intruding thoughts and focused on your hands.

“ OUCH!” He hissed.

You pulled your hands away and looked up at him worriedly. He grinned and thought your forehead looked so cute when you pinched your brows together like that.

He grinned. “ Just kidding.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and mumbled under your breath. “ You dick.”

He chuckled and apologized.

…

You guys were sitting at a table near the exit in the gym. Talking amongst yourself. Eddie would have complained how they have been there for half an hour and the DJ has yet to play a passable song. Instead, he sat there wondering if he should ask you to dance. Would it be weird? No one else asked you yet. And he didn't think Gareth or Jeff would. Grant maybe. Because he liked all kinds of music and loved to dance. And he had a secret crush on you.

But Eddie had to beat him to the punch. He needed to know what it felt like to hold you close.

Just as his mind went haywire, he felt you tap his thigh and began spelling something out.

‘U- ok?’

He glanced at you and nodded. He always did like how you guys secretly communicated. He put his arm on the back of your chair and started writing on your back with his thumb.

‘Yeah- u?’

He kept his thumb pressed against your skin. Loving the warmth radiating from it and how smooth it was.

You wrote back. ‘Hungry.’

He looked down at your salad plate and it was empty. While cursing at himself for declining his salad that he should have given you, he searched around for more food.

He leaned in towards you when he found some. “I'll be right back.”

He got up and went for a plate when someone sat down in front of the one he was eyeing. He sighed and went on the hunt for another. It took a few minutes but eventually he was able to sneak one. When he came back he saw that you and everyone else at the table had a dinner plate already.

You grinned at him. “ I spoke too soon. But I'll totally eat that one too.”

He shook his head. “ I think all of us are gonna need 3 servings of this. With how much the tickets cost, they could at least give us more than an ice cream scoop of potatoes and a chicken wing.”

You agreed with him and offered to take them out for burgers after.

You guys were in the middle of eating when yours and his song came on. You immediately put down your fork and wiped the corners of your mouth.

“ Mhmmm. Okay! Let's go.” You said standing up. “ Let's do this.”

Everyone looked at each other and got up too. Except him.

“ Muuunnnnsooonn.” You sang out, walking backwards towards the dance floor. “ Common. This is our song dude. We have to.”

He chuckled while you pretended to cast out a line and start to reel him in.

He had no choice. He had to join and belt out the song with you.

What's goin on!”

While grabbing his hand, you started swaying with him and the others.

🎵

“ And so I wake in the morning and I step outside. And I take a deep breath and I get real high and I scream at the top of my lungs.

🎵

Eddie re-lived all the memories you and him had.

All the times he was bummed or sick. You would show up with food and sing that song. When you had a bad day at school or got anything less than a ‘A’ on an assignment, he would wrap his arms around you and rock you back and forth. Singing at the top of his lungs. Making you laugh like crazy.

He liked hearing you laugh. Especially when you laughed so hard that you would let out a small snort. He also liked how your fingers felt, scratching his head when he had a headache. The way you hummed What's Up? always made him feel better.

Even now, seeing you rock back and forth, singing your heart out. It made an alright night to one he'll never forget.

…

A couple weeks went by and Eddie couldn't get you out of his head. After prom, everything went back to normal. Except his feelings. You weren't that kid anymore. You weren't just one of his best friends.

In addition to being that, you were a girl who he wanted to hold. Maybe kiss and have sleepovers. Well, a different kind of sleepover than he was used to.

He tried so hard to avoid you as much as possible during those weeks. But he eventually missed you, so he gave into whatever was taken over his heart.

All the times he hugged you hello and goodbye would last a little longer. He became more affectionate than he'd ever been. Random tickling you when it wasn't weird. Just so he could touch you. Or he constantly had his arm around your shoulders whenever you were together.

He thought no one would notice since it was so close to graduation. But he was wrong. Apparently he was doing it so much that Gareth had to pull him aside and talk to him.

“ What the hell's going on man?”

Eddie's eyes went wide. The jig was up. “ Ermmm hmmm? What's up?”

Gareth crossed his arms and stood quiet. That's all he needed to do to get Eddie to talk. That and a stare down.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “ I…I don't know what happened…one minute she's who she's always been and the next, she's not.”

Gareth tilted his head to the side and remained silent.

Eddie clicked his tongue and shook his head. “ Look man, I don't know what I'm doing. All I know is that I feel different.”

Gareth straightened his head and raised his brows.

Eddie let out a long sigh. “ Fine! I like her. I like her, like her.”

Gareth smirked and put a hand on his shoulder. “ Welcome to the club.”

Eddie jerked his head back. “ What the hell does that mean?”

Gareth laughed. “ Dude! We all had a crush on her at some point. Remember when Jeff needed help with the spelling bee in the 6th grade?”

Eddie nodded.

“ Well she helped him for a whole 2 weeks. Jeff swore he loved her after that. And Grant…well you know he always liked her. But it really hit him when she decked Jenny for calling him fatso.”

Eddie was quiet for a second. “ W-what about you?”

Gareth put his hands in his pocket and gave him a thin lip smile. “Uhhhh…so I broke my arm once. Before you moved here…She helped me out a lot during that summer. She did my chores and helped cut up my food sometimes… You know, she was the only one who signed my cast.” He smiled. “ She's a great friend. She always has been. Honestly, I'm surprised it did happen to you sooner.”

Eddie licked his lips and put his hands in his back pockets. They had all liked you because you helped them out or defended their honor. But you hadn't done anything different with him. Besides you looking incredible at the dance, there was nothing that he could think of that made him like you like that.

“ S-so all of you guys still like her like that?”

Gareth shook his head. “ Nah man. I knew that it was just a crush. And Jeff, well Jeff's dating Connie. Grant…Grant still likes her. He even tried to kiss her.”

Eddie flexed his jaw. “ What?! When?!”

“ Prom.”

“ PROM?!”

“ DUDE!” Gareth hushed him up. “ Calm down. You left to get food and he tried. But she let him down gently. She said that she sees him as a brother. In fact, she sees all of us as family. And it would be weird if she dated any of us.”

Eddie's heart sank. Did you really think that about all of them or just the 3 stooges?

“ Look Munson, don't worry about it. It will go away.”

“ What-what if it doesn't?”

Gareth shrugged. “ Then talk to her. Maybe she can say something that will make you feel better about it.”

All of sudden Eddie felt hands on his hips.

“ Hey ladies! What are we gossiping about?”

He turned slightly to find you staring up at him. His heart fluttered seeing your amazing smile.

Gareth spoke up when Eddie couldn't answer.“ uhhhh nothing. Just talking about Mrs O'Donnells final.”

You huffed and grabbed his hand. Pulling it over your shoulders. Lacing your fingers with his.

What did that mean? It was weird right? You and him were close. But now that he had feelings for you, everything you did seemed intimate.

“ Don't you guys worry, okay. I've helped both of you and you'll do fine. Then all of us are gonna walk the line and finally get the hell out of here.”

You looked up at him and beamed. Making him grin right back.

There was a moment there where he thought that you felt the same for him. But that was squashed when you let go of his hand and hook your arm around Gareth’s.

“ Now common. They're serving pizza and you know how I love pizza Fridays.”

He and Gareth chuckled and responded at the same time. “ More than us.”

You started for the cafeteria. “ You betcha!”

…

A week later and Eddie still couldn't shake you. He just couldn't get past the thought of being with you. Or even if what he felt was just a hard core infatuation. But nothing could prepare him for the events of senior outing.

It wasn't camping or a field trip to Washington. It was a movie in the park.

Sure, you guys could have rented a decent horror flick and binge out on snacks in your basement. But you argued that it was one of the last chances to hang out. So of course everyone went.

Eddie was walking back with Jeff. Hauling bags of popcorn and drinks for everyone. As soon as he was close enough he caught your eye. You bit your lip and waved him over.

He immediately felt butterflies in his stomach.

When he sat down you scooted closer to him and covered his legs with a blanket you brought.

You then grabbed your purse and pulled out his favorite candy.

He smiled and patted himself down. Pulling out a box of milk duds from his jacket pocket.

“ Awwww you remembered. Thanks.”

His eyes went wide when you gave him a peck on the cheek.

He had only a second of shock before he tried to brush it off. “ Of-of course. I could never forget.”

You happily rocked side to side as you combined the candy and popcorn. Then you held out a bite for him.

His heart started to race the closer your hand got to his mouth.

He closed his eyes and let you feed him.

Under any other circumstances, this was totally normal. You were very affectionate. It actually annoyed him most of the time. However this time, it only served to make him think you actually did like him too.

As the movie he couldn't pay attention to kept playing, he tried not to think about his “crush”. But it was a battle he was losing. Every time you would laugh, it would warm his heart. Every time you guys reached for popcorn at the same time, your fingers would touch. All he wanted to do was hold your hand or pull you closer by your waist.

Then like a sign from above, the wind picked up. You moved closer to keep warm. Out of nowhere you rested your head on his shoulder and put your hand on his upper thigh. That's when his breath caught in his throat. He tried to clear it and ended up coughing.

Without hesitation your reached over and lifted up your lemonade for him to take a sip.

He licked his lips and took a drink. After you put the cup down, you started tracing across his thigh.

‘Better?’

He gulped and nodded. “I uhh I'm gonna get us refills.”

He felt your eyes on him as he got up and grabbed your cup and his.

While he walked to the snack bar he tried to talk down a chubby. This wasn't okay. The way you made him feel was agonizing. But in such a good fucking way.

When he hit the stand there was a huge line.

Shit! He thought.

By the time he got back to the spot, you had moved to sit between Gareth and Grant. That's when he noticed you wearing Grant's leather coat. He instantly got jealous.

You looked up and gave him a small smile. “ Sorry Eddie. I got really cold while you were gone.”

He shook his head. “ It's cool. The line was long.”

Once he handed you your drink he plopped down and sulked.

Obviously his feelings weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

What the hell was he gonna do?

…

@salenorona23

#fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x female original character #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie x reader #eddie my beloved #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie x plus size reader #eddie x oc #eddie x you #plus size reader #plus size girls #Spotify

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fablesrose · 8 months ago

Note

Hiiiii! Your leverage rewrite is giving me Eliot Spencer BRAINROT and I saw your requests were open, so I was wondering if you would be interested in writing something about the reader getting a bit beat up on a job, and falling asleep on Eliot while recovering? I don’t mind if it’s a oneshot, or if you want to put it in the rewrite or something. Thanks regardless, I love your writing so much!

Hi!!! Thank you so much, you can't even believe how much that means to me! I'm glad someone else is in the Eliot brainrot with me! I'm so sorry it took so long to post this, ever since you sent this I have been thinking about it and what I wanted to do with it and I finally got it on paper. Hope you like it!

Stay With Me

Eliot Spencer x Reader Words: 2.4k

As far as jobs went, this one wasn’t too bad. The ultimate goal was to steal some files for our client to prove gross misconduct. They would then go to the press or police, probably both, knowing how these types of jobs usually went. We were approaching the end game when some guards started to catch on. Parker and Hardison needed some more time and everyone else was preoccupied. So, it fell on me to be a distraction.

I quickly made my way through the building, dodging guards along the way until I made it to where Hardison and Parker were holed up, collecting files.

“What are you doing here?” Hardison asked when he saw me step into the room. “You’re supposed to be keeping the guards away from us!”

“And I’m working on it!” I replied.

Parker didn’t acknowledge me as she sorted through the physical files that she pulled from a cracked safe.

“Parker, hand me a file we don’t need,” I asked and she quickly handed one over without looking at me. I grabbed it and turned back to Hardison, “Do you have a spare flash drive that has stuff that isn't important or nothing at all?”

He looked at me with a puzzled expression before pulling one out of his bag, “What are you doing?”

I pocketed it quickly before answering, “Well the guards are coming to this room, they know something is up. What do you think they’re gonna do when they see someone walking out of the room carrying a file?”

Hardison started to nod along, “they’re gonna go after you and not bother to check the room.”

“Yup!” I called as I approached the door to leave.

“What about the flash drive?”

I faced him before stepping over the threshold, “If I get caught, give them something to find.” I winked before stepping backwards into the hall.

Just in time too. As the door latched, a group of three guards stepped around the corner. They made eye contact with me and I froze momentarily.

“Hey!” One of them yelled at me.

I quickly dashed down the hall in the opposite direction. As I turned a corner, I looked back to see that all of them were hot on my heels and passed the room without a second thought. The one who yelled at me was talking through his radio to the other guards, directing them to my approximate location to try and head me off. It worked alright. Now to test my navigation and escape abilities.

One thing I was blessed with was a pretty good memory and an interest in architecture. I liked reviewing blueprints and with the help of Parker, I was able to remember the layout of the current building. We were also able to identify interesting weak points and possible escape routes. This wasn’t the time to doubt my memory or my speed, so I just kept running.

The original guards chasing me had fallen further and further behind, but I could still hear them behind me, so I couldn’t slow down. I turned another corner to find a lone guard running towards me.

Change of plan.

He got within a couple of yards when I threw the file I had in my hand in his face. It caused him to stumble just enough for me to get a head start down a different hallway. I finally made it to a stairwell and started making my way down. I had a large enough head start that I had almost thought I had lost them as I approached the bottom. I was proven wrong when a stairwell door above me burst open and sounds of shouting echoed down the stairs. I didn’t wait to see which direction they went before I burst through a door myself into the basement of the building.

“Y/n,” Eliot said through comms, “Where are you? You still dealing with guards?”

“Yeah,” I panted, continuing to run and navigate the twisting hallways, “I’m doing okay, I’m in the basement heading to the north east corner where there should be-”

I turned yet another corner where the largest man I had ever seen stood barely three feet away. He was dressed in a guard uniform and had his arm outstretched right in front of me. I couldn’t finish my sentence to Eliot before the guard clotheslined me, landing me flat on my back and knocking the rest of my breath out of my lungs.

I groaned, trying to scramble to my feet. “Where the hell did you come from?” I gasped, trying to catch my breath and run away.

The guard didn’t say anything as he grabbed my arm in a tight grip, pulling me to my feet.

I wriggled and thrashed, trying to land a blow anywhere I could to break free, but the guard still didn’t budge. “Where do they keep you? In a cage?” I yelled exasperatedly, still not finding any opening.

The guard didn’t seem to like the insinuation and with a grunt threw me against the wall. My shoulder and hip hit first, but it didn’t completely stop the momentum of my head from hitting the wall. A jolt of pain shot through my whole body before dulling to a throbbing ache. The only thing I could seem to do was curl into a ball, hoping it would make my body feel better.

It sounded like someone was talking to me through the earpiece, but I couldn’t focus on it or decipher who was saying what. A slight whimper escaped my lips as I tried to raise my head.

The guard approached me and started to rustle through the pockets of my jacket. He stuck his hand into the pocket where the dud flash drive was and I mustered all the strength I could into my less injured arm and launched it at his face. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was going for, a punch, slap, or scratch his eyes out, but I made forceful contact and I did feel my nails catch skin.

The guard stumbled back, holding his face and swore loudly, the first word I had heard him utter.

“He speaks,” I said with a pained chuckle from the floor.

That comment also wasn’t appreciated as the guard gave me a swift kick to the gut. I simply gasped, not being able to muster up a sound to voice the pain. I wasn’t even sure if I could breathe anymore. My eyes screwed shut and I rested my head against the floor, not wanting to muster the strength to hold it up anymore. I was expecting the guard to come back and start searching me again, or even some more pain, but it didn’t come.

I pried one eye open to see Eliot standing a few paces down the hall.

“Don’t touch her!” He growled, taking calculated steps towards the guard.

The guard grunted, “Make me. I’ll snap you like a twig, too.”

I saw Eliot’s lips twitch into a smile before taking a fighting stance. The fight didn’t last long once the guard made the first move. He did get a couple hits on Eliot, but not enough to slow him down and knock him out. The guard hit the ground with a large thud that I could have sworn shook the ground.

During the fight, I was able to maneuver myself into a sitting position against the wall. I started to try and use it to stand up when Eliot quickly approached me and gently helped me to my feet. He pulled my arm over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around my waist, carrying most of my weight as we walked down the hallway.

“Where are the rest of the guards? Do we have to hurry out of here?” I asked slowly, trying to keep the ache out of my voice and calculate how to get out. I couldn’t use my previous route with how injured and sluggish I was now.

“On a wild goose chase,” Eliot replied, not hesitating in his steps back toward the stairwell.

“I’m not the goose, am I?” I asked humorously, but trying to keep laughing to a minimum. I had a feeling it would hurt if I tried.

Eliot chucked though. “No, I got them out of the picture so we can get out of here.”

My mind started running in circles trying to decide what he did, but eventually I half whispered to myself, “you know what? I don’t even want to know.”

When we got to the stairs I sighed heavily, anticipating how much effort it would take to climb them.

Eliot looked at me and could see the dread in my face. “Here, sweetheart, I’ve gotcha.” He bent down and lifted my feet, putting me in a bridal carry and started up the stairs.

“You don’t have to do that Eliot, don’t tire yourself out for no reason,” I said, but rested my head on his shoulder, feeling oh so tired.

“I can carry you one flight of stairs, sweetheart, don’t worry about it.”

Another sigh escaped my lips involuntarily, “I’m so tired. I want to take a nap.”

Eliot purposefully jostled me a little bit, “Stay with me, sweetheart. Don’t fall asleep before I get you out of here and see if you have a concussion. It sounded like you hit that wall pretty hard.”

I groaned just remembering that initial pain, “Don’t remind me.”

When we reached the ground floor Eliot gently placed me back on my feet to seem a bit less conspicuous when walking through the building. This floor had a lot of offices and employees milling around. When I was distracting the guards I considered it a hazard, they could have slowed me down trying to not run into them. Now as we carefully walked through, Eliot still supporting much of my weight, the employees provided a bit of cover until we reached a side door to exit into the parking lot and the van.

Eliot loaded me into the back and sat in front of me as Nate drove off, leaving the company and its guards far behind us. Eliot took a flashlight from Hardison and shined it in my eyes.

“Your pupils look okay, responding well to light and are the same size,” he said almost distractedly as if talking to himself even though he was addressing me.

I simply blinked slowly and watched him think for a moment before he turned back towards me.

“I’m gonna ask you some questions to test your memory, okay?”

“Okay.”

“What’s your name and birthday?”

I recited it quickly in the same pattern I always did when asked.

“Good,” he praised, “now what building were we just in?”

“Jackass Incorporated,” I replied. I paused before adding on sarcastically, “Oh sorry, I meant Jackson Inc.”

I finally got Eliot to crack a smile, “Glad to hear another confirmation that your sense of humor is intact. Last thing, say the months of the year in reverse order.”

This question took a little more time as I paused every few months to think, making sure I was right. When I finally landed on January I asked, “How’d I do doc?”

His eyebrows furrowed and his nose scrunched slightly, “I’m still nervous that you got a concussion.”

I sighed, “So no nap?”

He smiled grimly, “Not yet.”

The over hour drive home was relatively quiet, but the team kept me awake by talking to me. We finally made it back to Nate’s apartment. Normally we would be celebrating afterwards, but all I wanted to do was go home, and voiced as such. Eliot left no room for argument when he said he would drive me home, still not convinced of my cognitive capabilities. Frankly, I didn’t even want to argue with him, both because it was no use, and I didn’t mind the free ride home.

He kept talking to me when driving, making sure I stayed awake. We finally pulled up to my place and Eliot insisted that he walk me in. Again, I didn’t put up a fight.

“Do you have any other injuries that we need to take care of?” he asked once the door closed behind us.

“It took you this long to ask?”

He gave me a small glare, “I figured you would have told me if anything hurt more than you could handle, but I’m just double checking.”

I smiled, showing I was kidding, “Uh huh, sure. But no, nothing feels broken, everything seems to be in working order. If anything, mostly bruises.” I patted myself down gently, finding some tender spots, particularly around my ribs where the guard kicked me. Then remembered where my head hit the wall, “Hey Eliot, would you mind checking my scalp? I don’t think I broke skin, but…”

He nodded wordlessly and pulled me towards the couch and sat me down. He sat beside me so I turned away from him so he could see the place where my head hit the wall. He gently started to comb his fingers through my hair. His fingers immediately brushed against the spot where I hit and I flinched.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t feel a cut though,” he whispered to me. Even after checking the area, he continued to card my hair through his fingers.

It felt even better than I expected and a sigh escaped my lips. My head tilted back as his fingertips explored my scalp beyond the sore spot. My eyes drifted closed and that urge to sleep washed over me again.

“Can I fall asleep now?” I mumbled, mostly to myself.

Eliot sighed and stopped his movements, “Yeah, I’ve kept you up for a couple of hours now, you should be okay. I should go and let you sleep.” He started to remove his hand and shifted to stand.

I turned back around to face him and grabbed his hand, “Stay with me? I hear I’m supposed to be monitored for at least twelve hours for a possible concussion…” My eyes were fixed on our hands being clasped, but I eventually lifted my gaze to his own to find that he was transfixed on me.

His lips curled into a smile as he shifted, leaning back into the couch, “Yeah, I think I can do that sweetheart.” He gently grabbed my shoulders and pulled me down to lay on his lap. He resumed running his fingers through my hair and across my scalp.

I grabbed his unoccupied hand and held it to my chest, occasionally squeezing it in gratitude. It didn’t take long for the sounds of our consistent breathing to drift me off to sleep.

#rin answers #anon ask #request #eliot spencer x reader #eliot spencer #leverage #leverage fic

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biohazard-anon · 7 days ago

Text

Summary: your boyfriend goes on a work trip and you go grocery shopping, only to come home to something strange.

Content warning: none (for now)

(check pinned post for masterlist)

Tagged: ask if you wanna be tagged!

Authors note: Behold! The first Erebus x reader on the internet! This is the first in a five part series. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

You make your way up the stairs to the front door and open it.

Closing the door behind yourself as you readjust your computer bag's strap on your shoulder.

You step around the suitcase sitting by the door as you take your shoes off and set them in their cubby.

"Sweetheart?" You call out.

"In here!" Your boyfriend, David answers from the kitchen.

Making your way to him you set your bag on the kitchen table and go to hug your lover from behind.

He turns around in your grip to hug you back, you both stand there basking in each other's warmth.

"Someone's cuddly this morning."

"It doesn't help that you're like a personal heater. How long are you gonna be gone this time?" You ask David.

"It should be less than a week, how's the first draft coming along?"

"I already got a couple thousand words done to my surprise."

"That's a strong start. Anyways, I gotta get going or I'm gonna be late."

"Oh alright." You untangle yourself from him and stand on your toes to give your boyfriend a kiss.

He kisses you back and pulls away, a smile on his face.

You fully separate and listen to him walk out the kitchen, then, out of the house.

Walking to the counter you grab your mug from next to the coffee maker and pour yourself a cup.

Cup in hand you walk back over to your bag and begin to pull out your laptop.

Hearing clanking you look over to see your boyfriend's word bearer enter the kitchen. Your eyes travel the intricate tattoos of his face as you smile at him.

"Good morning, Erebus. How's my little guy doing?"

He yawns and begins to chatter at you as he walks to a chair and hops up into it. The mini marine adjusts himself to sit in it.

"How about some breakfast?"

Erebus nods.

You stand up and make your way to the fridge and open it to pull out a small chunk of nutrient bar for the marine.

You close the fridge and pull open a cupboard to take out a small plate and a larger one.

You place the small piece of nutrient bar on the small plate and go to put it in front of Erebus.

You go back to the fridge and pull out the carton of eggs and set them on the counter before going to the cupboard to grab a pan.

You set the pan on the stove top then turn the stove on.

You grab a couple of eggs from the carton and put it back in the fridge. Back to the pan you crack both the eggs into it then throw away the shells.

Grabbing a spatula you scramble the eggs before letting them cook. You stir occasionally before turning the stovetop off and grabbing your plate.

You tilt the pan over the plate to deposit the eggs and go to sit down at the table.

Pulling your laptop closer and opening it you get to work editing as you continue eating.

You finish your food and go to handle the dishes in the sink. You also pick up Erebus' plate as well.

Washing them then putting them to dry you go to sit back down and finish editing your draft.

You close the laptop and pick it up as you stand and walk to your shared room.

Plugging in your laptop and placing it on your dresser, you feel a chill run along your spine.

Your eyes land on your boyfriend's favorite hoodie and a note on the bed and go to pick them up.

So you won't miss me so bad. The note reads.

You put on the hoodie and walk back out into the living room.

Eyeing the remote on the coffee table you pick it up and surf the channels. You stop it on a news station.

"There have now been multiple reports across the country of astartes growing in size, some up to three times their original size! scientists say that-"

You change the channel.

"Owners are dumbfounded at the sudden shifts in size of their marines, some say it's magic. Others say-"

You change it again, this time landing on a cooking show.

You place the remote back on the table and head back into the kitchen to grab your coffee.

Placing your mug on the counter you look through the cupboard and grab your to go cup.

You pour your coffee in the cup, close the lid and go to wash your mug. Placing it on the rack next to the sink you go to look in the fridge

Taking notes of what you need to get on the notepad that's stuck to the fridge door before ripping the list off the pad and grabbing your to go cup.

Walking back out you notice the news is on the TV again, this time Erebus seems to be watching intently. You go to sit by him on the couch.

"I'm going to the store, you wanna come with?"

Erebus shakes his head without taking his eyes off the TV. Very interested indeed.

"Alright then, I'll be back shortly."

You go to grab your keys and put on your shoes before walking out the door and locking it before you walk to your car.

You open the door, get in and start it up before pulling out of the driveway and onto the road before making your way to the grocery store.

You park your car and get out. Walking across the parking lot and into the store.

Grabbing a basket you work your way through the isles, picking up the things you needed to get and then some.

You don't notice the sound of clanking behind you as you look at a carton of eggs, you do however notice a loud buzzing noise before you feel something try to land on you.

"Garstath no!" Someone calls out behind you.

The little marine uses your shoulder to launch themselves closer to the fluorescent light attached to the ceiling.

A man with blonde hair stops next to you and begins scolding the death guard hanging off the light.

"We talked about this, now come down before someone calls the manager!"

"I think I have treats in my car if you need help." You offer.

"That would be great, thank you." He says with a sigh of relief.

You quickly put your basket down and run out of the store and into the parking lot. Weaving in between the vehicles till you make it to your car.

Opening the door you grab the emergency treats from the glovebox and run back into the store.

Making your way back to where you were, you crinkle the bag of treats.

The green armored astartes snaps it's head towards you and croaks at you before dropping off the light and drifting his way down towards you.

The man grabs the marine mid flight and wrangles him under an arm.

"I am so sorry about this, usually he's better behaved than this." The man apologizes.

"It's quite alright, I know death guards tend to have a thing for bright lights."

You open the bag and grab a treat out for the marine and hand it to him. He croaks again and takes off his helmet before stuffing the treat into his face.

You laugh a little at the marine's antics.

With a goodbye to the man and his marine you make your way to check out. You browse some recent news articles as you wait.

After you've bought your groceries you head out to your car and open the door to the back seat.

Placing your bags down you then close the back door and go to hop in the driver's seat.

You start the car and manoeuvre your way out of the parking lot. Turning out onto the road you begin the journey back to your house.

Pulling into the driveway you put the car in park then turn it off. Stepping out you close the front door and open the back one.

You grab the groceries out of the back seat and close the door.

Walking up to the front door you struggle with your keys for a moment before unlocking and opening the door.

Heading inside you walk to the kitchen and set the bags down onto the counter and begin unbagging everything and sorting the items by where they need to go.

You stop as you hear what sounds like scraping over in the hallway, along with heavy steps that vibrate the floor.

"Erebus what in god's name are you doing?" You say.

The sounds stop except for something crumbling onto the floor.

You walk from the kitchen and into the living room, then gasp.

There was a normal sized marine in the hallway, his armor making gouges in the drywall.

A wave of fear crashes through you, until you realize that he wasn't just any marine.

It was Erebus.

#space marine husbandry #reader insert #warhammer 40k #erebus #a little surprise miniseries

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honeysuckleharringtons · 1 year ago

Note

just steve harrington being so selfless and not taking time for himself melting into a puddle if the reader or you or y/n (idk which one to put 💀) just asked him if he was okay a lot (I do that 24/7, this is purely self indulgent) and the many times he said yeah and the one time he said no :(

i was originally gonna do a full fic style blurb on this but words have been very hard for me lately so i'm just gonna do a text post about this! hope you don't mind 🫶🏻

warnings: reader is sorta implied to be fem!reader, allusions to steve being treated not so well by his parents as a kid, part of this does mention some upside down violence, tiny mention of food, no use of Y/N, lmk if i missed anything!

send me steve thoughts | ask box

I imagine the first time it happens is probably in gym class when you're younger.

You accidentally hit him right in his pretty lil face with a dodgeball ☹️

And Steve being Steve insists he's okay because "I get hit all the time in basketball and football. I've broken bones and nearly busted my teeth out. A lil dodgeball never hurt anyone."

But you can tell he's hurt.

Whether it's him that's hurt or his bruised ego, you can't really tell.

But some part of him was clearly hurt.

more under the cut!

The second time it happens is when you get paired together for a study group during senior year.

Steve struggles with a lot of subjects, but math is probably his worst.

And it's not like he doesn't want to get better, his parents just never sat down at the table and helped him with anything growing up, and when his nannies told his dad about his report cards, it didn't end very well ☹️

But math is the one he's always had the hardest time with.

So when the two of you get paired to study for the calculus final, you can almost immediately tell he's struggling to understand the questions on the example sheet.

At one point, he just kinda places his head in his hands and groans into his palms.

And you're just kinda like, "Hey, you okay?"

And again, Steve is never one to admit defeat.

"I'll be fine. Can you just help me with question four?"

Surprisingly though, after just a few nights of studying together, you become sort of reluctant allies.

He surprisingly excelled in human biology, which you did not. So, the two of you helped each other where you could.

And then it happened a third time, during the summer after you'd graduated.

Steve had had a rather unsuccessful time trying to flirt with the ladies that often came into Scoops Ahoy.

This day had been no different.

He'd really tried his hardest to get the beautiful ginger in front of you to go with him to the movies on Friday.

But she and her friends just moved along, double-scoop ice cream cones in hand, back to their shopping.

"You good?" you asked, nearly on the verge of laughing, as you stepped up to the counter.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he answered sarcastically. "Just a little bruise to my ego. That was definitely the first time any lady has turned down this beautiful face."

Part of you, though, was hurting. Hurting that, even though you were right in front of him, he'd never bothered to look at you that way.

The fourth time it happened, you really started to question everything you thought you knew about Steve.

Somehow, despite being back in town for a total of two days, you'd gotten roped into something to do with some evil dude named Vecna.

And for once, after everything you'd learned since arriving back in Hawkins for spring break, Steve was the one asking if you were okay.

Also for once, one of you was answering the question truthfully.

However, in the week that followed after, even in the midst of alternate dimensions and weird mutations of bats, you'd learned that Steve might have been causing his previous lady problems on purpose.

And when you saw the painful expression he sported as Nancy Wheeler was reunited with her boyfriend, your own heart shattered all over again.

Still, if there was one thing you were, it was a good friend to Steve.

So, you pulled him aside and asked those three little words.

Steve simply ran a hand through his disheveled hair with a slow nod.

But you could tell he was nearly at the point of breaking.

And the time when he finally answered truthfully, he really did break.

You'd drove with him to the hospital to check up on Max Mayfield, who somehow he'd became friends with despite the age difference.

The room was dead silent, other than the annoying buzzing coming from the lights.

You finally gave him a good once-over as he sat at Max's bedside—his messy hair, his pale face with newly acquired purple spots under his eyes, a small cut under his lip.

And for the first time since you'd known Steve, you watched as tears formed in his eyes.

You were quick to rush over to the other side of the bed, your hand splaying across his back and rubbing soft, small circles against his frame.

"Steve, I know this is a silly question to ask, because we both know the real answer, but seriously, are you okay?"

He knew he couldn't hide. Not any longer. So, he simply let the walls come down, croaking out a small, "No," through his flood of tears.

After crying into your shoulder and allowing himself to finally let go of everything he'd been holding in for all those years, he just simply held you.

Finally, after explaining everything—from the reason why he never told you about the Upside Down, to why he'd used Nancy and all those girls as a distraction from the person he really wanted—he just grabbed your face and kissed you. A sweet and tender kiss, not a desperate or lustful kiss, but a longing one—one he'd waited much too long to give you.

And somehow, even in the midst of all the bad stuff, even in the midst of Steve finally breaking, the two of you could finally find a way to maybe, just maybe, be okay for once. ❤️‍🩹

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorioh @esoltis280

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endofradio · 6 months ago

Text

PROVE MY LOVE

WARNINGS: NSFW (but like… it’s 🌽 with feeling. they start smashing towards the end 💀)

RELATIONSHIP: FRANK / ORIGINAL CHARACTER (SYLVIE)

NOTES: this is a draft of a scene i’ve got planned for a future fic! i’ll probably be posting more drafts along the way because this is fun tbh. also, this scene takes place in frank’s apartment.

SUMMARY: frustrated by the fact sylvie seems to be questioning his reasons for saving her life, frank decides to tell her — and show her — how he really feels about her.

WORD COUNT: 4,032 (yeah it’s long)

TAGS: @reclaimedbythesea @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @blackwolfstabs @shawsfinalgirl @atcarpenter

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! helps keep me motivated <3

————————————————————————

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Sylvie asked the question carefully, a sense of confusion flickering in her gaze. “Why did you choose to save my life? You… you tried to kill me, and now…”

As she looked up at Frank, she could see him look away from her for a moment. When he looked back at her, his already-cold gaze had hardened. “Well, I suppose I had a change of heart, huh?” He shot back, a bitter smile curling at his lips. “Sure, maybe I hurt you, and I am a piece of shit, but… did you really think I was gonna let you just fuckin’ die like that?” He was getting closer to her now, practically staring into her goddamn soul.

Sylvie swallowed nervously, taking a couple steps backward. “You tried. To fucking. Kill me.” She repeated, stopping at every couple of words to let them sink in. “You could’ve just let me die, but you didn’t. Why?”

Why? That question repeated over and over again in Frank’s mind. He could feel the wall he had built around himself slowly crumbling. He couldn’t be vulnerable. Vulnerability was a weakness. Yet, this woman standing in front of him was fucking breaking him. There was a much deeper reason he had chosen to save her besides “having a change of heart,” but of course he wasn’t going to fucking admit that, not yet. Trying to mask his emotional turmoil was only proving to be becoming significantly more difficult for him right now.

So, Frank just shook his head and let out a bitter chuckle. “You really don’t fuckin’ get it, do you?” He snidely asked, taking a step closer towards Sylvie. He let out a bitter scoff. “God, you really are a stubborn little brat, aren’t you?” Yeah, he was being an asshole right now, but it was just a front. He was desperately trying to hold back from just fucking saying it.

“What is there to get?” Sylvie questioned, narrowing her eyes at Frank. As for her, she was experiencing her own tumultuous whirlwind of emotions and thoughts.

“What is there to— oh, Jesus. If only you fuckin’ knew what goes on inside my goddamn head.” Frank knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer. Jesus Christ, he needed her to understand. When he looked at Sylvie, she seemed only more confused, and it was pissing him off. He continued to walk towards her as she backed away from him, until her back was nearly pressed against the kitchen counter. He could tell she was getting nervous. Afraid, even. The idea was almost physically painful to Frank.

“You have no clue, no fuckin’ clue what you put me through.” Frank hissed, his eyes narrowing. “Wouldn’t you just love to know?”

“Yeah, I would like to know.” Sylvie answered, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. Frank picked up on the way her breathing was quickening, how her heart rate was accelerating ever so slightly… why was she so afraid? Yeah, perhaps he knew he was scaring her, but he couldn’t help it. He was a jackass. She was occasionally avoiding eye contact with him, her eyes darting in different directions. Frank couldn’t handle it.

Maybe a little too roughly, he reached to grab Sylvie’s chin, tilting it so she was looking directly at him. “You truly, truly piss me off sometimes, you know that?” He asked, his voice lowering. “You make me confused. One second, I wanna just… I don’t know, snap at you. Taunt you. Get under your skin as I usually do.”

Frank paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. Then, he continued.

“But then, I…” His eyes briefly flickered down to Sylvie’s lips. Shit. He looked back into her eyes, suddenly feeling as though he couldn’t speak. “I… wanna kiss you until you can’t. Fuckin’. Breathe. Until all you can think about is me. Until you forget your own goddamn name. Until…” Frank tried to shake the thoughts out of his head, but they were just spilling out of his mouth. Now, all he could think about was kissing her, tasting her. Snap out of it already!

He looked away from her for a moment, tightly shutting his eyes. Even then, the thoughts only persisted, getting stronger with each second. He just wanted to have his hands all over her.

Frank tightened his grip on Sylvie’s chin just a little, and when he looked at her… god, the way she was looking at him, with her soft, brown eyes all wide, and… was that a tear glistening in her left eye? Why did she look beautiful like this? Fucking hell, he was fighting demons.

“How do you feel about me?” He then harshly asked. “Don’t lie, either. I’ll know if you are.”

Sylvie drew in a deep, unsteady breath. How the hell was she supposed to answer that question? It wasn’t an easy one. She didn’t know how to phrase what she was feeling, what she was thinking. She didn’t know what the fuck to say.

“Answer me.” Frank hissed through gritted teeth. Part of him felt guilty for acting like this, but he just couldn’t help it. He was just… frustrated.

“I don’t… I don’t know…” Sylvie weakly whispered. “I mean, I… I feel like you…”

“Like I what?”

“Like you only want to use me.”

Frank rolled his eyes and stepped away from Sylvie, taking a deep breath. He began to pace around the kitchen like a caged animal, running his hands through his hair. He knew he was an asshole, but for some reason he couldn’t handle Sylvie thinking of him as that much of an asshole. He had tried to push down his feelings for her, tried to seem like he didn’t care. Now, Sylvie was truly under the impression that Frank didn’t give a shit about her, and for some reason… he didn’t like that.

“You seriously fuckin’ think that?” He asked, before approaching Sylvie again. He placed both hands on either side of the kitchen counter, trapping her. “I mean, sure. Maybe I am a heartless bastard, but… fuck. You’re so goddamn oblivious.”

“What…?” Sylvie’s eyes were glazing over with tears even more. Fuck. “What are you… trying to say?”

Frank could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his breathing getting faster. He was desperately clinging onto the self-control that he did have.

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy. I hope you realize that.” He whispered, a sardonic half-smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You make me feel like I’m about to lose my goddamn mind. You’re… you’re like a fuckin’ parasite.”

Sylvie could feel her breath getting caught in her throat. Wait… so did he feel the same way she did? She thought he didn’t, she thought her feelings were completely one-sided. He had drained her of so much blood and could’ve just left her to die, but… he didn’t. All her life, Sylvie had never experienced even just a little bit of compassion that was directed at her. Of course she was in denial. Coming from someone like Frank, it was even more difficult to comprehend.

Frank got even closer to Sylvie, their faces now inches apart from each other. He could feel her warm breath and the fiery tension that was crackling in the air.

“What am I… to you?” Sylvie quietly asked.

That question just about did it for Frank. As irritation built up within him along with a flaming desire, he swiftly reached to grab her face, claiming Sylvie’s lips in a kiss that was full of both frustration and passion. She was caught off-guard by the suddenness of the kiss, her eyes widening for a moment as her breath hitched. Then, she slowly relaxed into it, her eyes gently fluttering shut.

The kiss was slow at first, but as Frank felt his self-control slipping further, it became more intense. He moved a hand away from Sylvie’s face to grab at her waist, suddenly feeling a surge of possessiveness. He felt her reaching to touch his face, and that really sent him over the edge. Frank frantically began to place kisses along Sylvie’s jawline, down her neck… and then he swiftly lifted her up, placing her on top of the kitchen counter. That was when he realized just how small she really was in comparison to him — he was nearly a foot taller than her.

Frank’s lips met Sylvie’s again, and his hands were practically all over her as he urgently deepened the kiss. He could feel her slowly melting into him and letting go, and it was only adding fuel to the fire. The way she wrapped her arms around his neck, combing her fingers through his hair… it was the kind of thing Frank only thought he could dream about. This was different from the first and only other time they had done something like this — there was passion, genuine passion. Frank’s mind started to wander to that particular moment. He could just hear Sylvie quietly whimpering his real name, how good it sounded. He couldn’t get the image out of his head of the way Sylvie had looked underneath him with her cheeks all flushed… and the way she looked when she had been on top of him— alright, Frank. That’s enough. That can all happen again later.

“Why do you let me… do this…?” Frank quietly asked in between kisses. “Y’know I’m not… good for you…”

Sylvie’s heart was beating out of her chest. She just wanted to say those three words that she’d been trying to hold back from saying… but she couldn’t. Part of her was scared to, still afraid that Frank didn’t really feel the same way and only felt lust for her, nothing else. She had lived a miserable life of rejection.

“I… I know…” She whispered, her breath shaking.

“You just can’t… pull away, huh? You’re just… wrapped around my finger… aren’t you?”

“M… mhm…”

Frank smirked a little against Sylvie’s lips. “That’s what I thought… you’ve got me wrapped around yours, too.”

He started roughly kissing her again. He just couldn’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her — she was like a drug to him. He pushed Sylvie’s shirt up just a little, just so he could feel her skin, and the sensation of Frank’s cold hand on her bare waist was sending chills down her spine, and her breath hitched just a bit.

“You remember that… one time we slept together?” Frank murmured, his kisses now trailing down to Sylvie’s neck again, specifically the side where the scarred-over bite wound was — the one he had inflicted. The realization gave him another surge of possessiveness. The scar was a reminder — a reminder of how Sylvie belonged to him.

“I didn’t want that to end.” Frank quietly continued, his hands continuing to gently caress her body. “I was… disappointed… when I woke up and… and you weren’t there.”

“Really…?” Sylvie asked. As she felt Frank kissing her neck, she shivered just a bit. She couldn’t believe how good he was able to make her feel.

“I wanted that moment… to last forever…” Frank continued, murmuring against her neck. Slowly, his hand began to travel up Sylvie’s skirt, his fingers gently grazing her thigh. As he felt a sudden wave of desire come over him, Frank left a gentle bite on her neck. “You felt… so good…” His voice had started to get rougher, huskier.

Frank heard a small gasp from Sylvie, and he quickly moved his head away from her neck to look down at her. Quickly, he kissed her again, his hands roaming back to her waist and grabbing at it desperately.

Before Sylvie could even say anything, Frank lifted her up off of the kitchen counter. Being in his arms like this, so high above ground… it was making Sylvie’s heart race even more, perhaps from a combination of anxiety and also desire. With his newly-obtained abilities, Frank could easily pick up on any emotion Sylvie was feeling. If she was afraid, he could practically smell it — right now, he could. He looked up at her, brushing a dark strand of hair away from her face. On the other hand, he could also sense the desire she was feeling. It was only encouraging him.

“You’re afraid, aren’t you?”

Sylvie slowly nodded. “Afraid of heights, I guess.” She answered quietly. “You’re just… really tall.”

“No one’s ever done this to you before, huh?” Frank asked, a small smirk forming on his face. Sylvie shook her head in response. All of this that she had experienced with Frank — genuine passionate kissing, sex that made her actually feel something… she had never experienced it with anybody before, and to think it was her former worst enemy making her feel all of these things…

“Well, you’re not gonna fall.” Frank quietly spoke, before taking her lips in another deep kiss as he carried her off towards his bedroom.

Once they got to the bedroom, things became progressively more heated. They were on the bed within moments, Sylvie quickly straddling him as they roughly kissed once again. As they did, Sylvie felt Frank shift underneath her as he moved to unbutton his pants, before she heard the sound of him unzipping them. Moving his hands back to her body, Frank began to slowly move them down Sylvie’s slender form, before slipping a hand under her black lace skirt, sliding his hand slowly up her thigh, pausing once he had reached her panties. He let his hand linger there for a moment, before hooking his fingers around the waistband. With a slow, gradual movement, he pulled the material down to her legs. Sylvie finished the job for him, breaking the kiss and freeing herself of the fabric, tossing it on the floor. She adjusted her position, hovering above Frank’s undone pants just a little. She looked down for a moment before her gaze met Frank’s again.

By now, his hands had wandered to her hips, keeping a firm grip on them. He looked into her eyes, his own having darkened with desire. “Don’t keep me waitin’…” He whispered roughly, pulling Sylvie closer against him as he claimed her mouth in what was close to probably being the hundredth kiss of the night so far. He truly was just that desperate for her, especially right now.

Just as Sylvie was about to take things further, there was the sudden sound of thunder outside. Frank broke the kiss for a moment to smirk against her lips, looking up at her.

“Ever fucked to a thunderstorm?” He slyly asked. “It’s quite nice, really — makes it all the more… intense.”

Sylvie chuckled sheepishly. “No, I… I haven’t.”

“Well… would you like to know what it’s… like?”

Sylvie slowly nodded, and that was when Frank pulled her into yet another hungry kiss. She slowly lowered herself a little more, and with a single motion, rocked her hips just a little, gently brushing against Frank but not enough to completely take him in. The sensation was enough to cause her to quietly gasp against his lips.

As Frank’s tongue slipped into her mouth, Sylvie felt him suddenly press his hips upwards into her, and she let out another gasp. He gripped her hips again and slowly began to guide her into a gentle rhythm, thunder continuing to crackle outside.

Then, those three words slipped from Sylvie’s mouth. “I… I love you…” She quietly murmured against Frank’s lips.

The admission hit Frank full-force like a goddamn semi-truck. Part of him wanted to deny it, but the way she said it was so vulnerable.

“Say it… say it again.” Frank pleaded. “So I… know it’s… real.”

“I’m in… love with you… Adam…”

The way she said his name… goddamnit. It was making his stomach do somersaults. How the hell was he supposed to control himself now?

“You’re… you’re serious…” He murmured. Frank honestly hadn’t expected Sylvie to actually be in love with him. In his mind, he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. Hell, he didn’t even think he was capable of being loved by anybody. Choosing to save her was the only act of compassion he had ever displayed towards her, and part of him still wanted to question why he had done it.

“Love” normally meant nothing to Frank, but now that he had heard Sylvie say those words, he just wanted to hear them over and over and over again. He wanted to say he was in love with her too — because he most likely was — but that one emotionless, cold side of him couldn’t bring himself to admit it. The idea of actually loving somebody was terrifying to Frank — he only knew how to discard somebody and move on to the next. He had abandoned his family without a care in the world to dabble in the criminal life. How was he capable of being in love? He wasn’t a nice person. He wasn’t a good person. Yet, for some reason, he was now suddenly obsessed with the idea of Sylvie being in love with him.

“Why…?” Frank quietly asked. “You’re too… good for me.”

Sylvie reached to gently cup Frank’s face with her hands. “I don’t… care…” She whispered in response. “I can’t… stay away from you…”

“Why…?”

“You’re the… only person… who’s made me feel this way.”

Frank’s eyes widened at Sylvie’s words. “You’ve never…?” He couldn’t grasp the idea that he might’ve just been the only person Sylvie had ever loved.

Sylvie shook her head. “No…”

“We’re just a couple of fuck-ups, aren’t we?” Frank chuckled sardonically, planting another kiss to Sylvie’s lips. “You used to tell me to go fuck myself, y’know… now you love me?”

“Change of heart, I guess.” Sylvie responded half-mockingly, before wrapping her legs around Frank’s waist, trying to be even more physically close to him.

As the thunder outside intensified, Frank felt a sudden jolt of pleasure hit him, and he leaned back a bit, his head resting against the headboard of the bed, his eyes fluttering shut as his grip on Sylvie’s hips tightened even further. Sylvie took the opportunity to unzip Frank’s jacket, sliding it over his shoulders to reveal the white tank top he wore underneath. Then, she leaned forward and began to place feverish kisses along his neck and jawline, just as he had previously done to her. In response, he breathed a sigh of pleasure, giving Sylvie a sudden rush of confidence.

The sensation of Frank gently matching her rhythm underneath her caused Sylvie to feel a sudden shockwave of pleasure shoot throughout her body, and she threw her head back, gently closing her eyes in ecstasy as she let a quiet moan fall from her lips.

Following a sudden crash of thunder, Frank abruptly snapped his hips upwards, grabbing Sylvie’s hips impossibly tighter and pulling her further down onto him. She let out a yelp at the feeling, trying to keep herself stable by gripping onto the headboard with one hand, her other firmly placed on Frank’s chest. “Oh my god…” She whimpered as Frank guided her into a more urgent rhythm, the bed quietly creaking. “I… oh, Jesus…”

Sylvie’s breathing was slowly turning into panting, and she didn’t know how much longer she could continue at this point. Gasping and whimpering, she was slowly unraveling before Frank’s eyes.

Frank was desperately fighting the urge to just flip them over and show Sylvie just how much she really drove him insane. As he opened his eyes, he looked up at her with a wide-eyed gaze of adoration. The way her lips were parted, her eyes closed. Frank didn’t think he had ever seen something so beautiful, until now. It was an image he never wanted to get out of his head, and the sounds she made — they were heavenly.

That was when Frank decided he couldn’t take it anymore, and he quickly pushed Sylvie down onto the bed, quickly climbing on top of her as though he was a predator trying to capture its prey. Sylvie let out a slight gasp of surprise, and seeing the predatory gaze in Frank’s eyes was making her feel something… was it desire?

Without any hesitation, Frank quickly grabbed Sylvie’s chin, tilting it upwards as he began to hungrily kiss her. With his other hand, he firmly grabbed at her, pulling her as close to him as he could as he started deeply rocking his hips against hers. The whole time, he kept a tight grip on her waist, almost as though she’d disappear from him if he let go. Sylvie was so small, so fragile — Frank realized how easy it would be to just manhandle her.

“I love you…” Sylvie whispered against his lips. Now that she had said it once, she couldn’t stop saying it. “I can’t… I can’t get enough of you...”

Sylvie’s vulnerability was ripping Frank to shreds. She really did mean what she was saying, and he couldn’t believe it. Even though he was a piece of shit and had done nothing to earn anything from her, she still loved him. Honestly, he felt… bad for her. There were probably so many people who would be better for her, yet she chose him.

Frank’s kisses wandered down to Sylvie’s jawline, neck, collarbone… he was kissing her all over. Desperate to feel more of her skin against his lips, he quickly pulled her shirt over her head, admiring her body before trailing kisses down her chest. “Why me…?” He murmured against her skin.

“I’ve never… loved somebody before…” Sylvie quietly answered.

“Me neither…” Until Sylvie, but of course he couldn’t bring himself to admit that just yet. Deciding to be a little humorous, Frank smirked against her chest. “You just have a thing for jackasses, huh?”

He wasn’t entirely wrong, either. Sylvie was more drawn to the wrong type of guy — she only knew cruelty, not love.

“Do you… love me?” Sylvie then asked.

The question caught Frank by slight surprise. His eyes met hers, and then he pulled her impossibly closer to him as he continued to slowly move his hips.

Just say it, goddamnit. It’s not that hard.

The way Sylvie was looking into his eyes wasn’t helping. She looked so hopeful. Jesus, how fucking hurt was she to the point she wanted him to love her… out of all people?

Swallowing, he nodded, suddenly at a loss for words. Frank loved her, but in a way he didn’t understand. It was too complicated to explain.

At Frank’s nod, Sylvie pulled him into another kiss, and that was enough to pull Frank out of his inner turmoil, even if just for a little while. He groaned quietly into the kiss, furrowing his brows as he felt his desire for her take hold. His pace gradually became more urgent, and he buried his face in the crook of Sylvie’s neck. She arched her back a bit, nails digging into his back through his tank top as she held onto him. Judging by her gentle whimpers and gasps, Frank could tell she was getting closer to the edge… and he was determined to get her there.

“Mine…” He murmured against her neck, leaving a trail of small bites and desperate kisses once again. “Only mine… only… mine…”

Frank knew he couldn’t hold much longer, either. His movements became more desperate, his nails digging into her hips. He suddenly realized he needed to see Sylvie coming undone on top of him, and he quickly flipped them over again, desperately pulling Sylvie onto him.

Sylvie was just about seeing stars at this point, feeling that familiar tension building up within her abdomen. “I can’t…” She whined. “I… oh my god…”

There was another crack of thunder as the storm grew more intense, and Sylvie frantically kissed Frank to muffle her moans as they both finally let go, continuing to slowly move together as they rode out their intense, shared high, the storm outside only adding to it all.

#abigail 2024 #abigail movie #abigail #frank abigail #adam barrett #horror movies #horror #writeblr #dan stevens #fanfiction author #fic writing #fic authors #my fic #fanfic #fanfic writing #fanfiction

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witchywithwhiskey · 3 months ago

Note

Pumpkin Daddy Ransom? 😏

Navy! i know i'm getting to this ask a little late, BUT i wanted to wait until i had something to share beyond what i previously wrote about my pumpkin daddy ransom wip.

i've been working on editing this fic (and writing my other fall sugar daddy wips) and i'm really happy with how it's coming along! there's a bit more emotion to it that i expected. i was originally going to try to do fun, short fics like my spring series, but nooope. this fic's gonna be 7k at least! i'm hoping to post it on sunday, but we'll see 😅

anyway! here's a different little snippet from pumpkin daddy ransom (not the final title)!

It was a little early in the day, just before lunch time, but you were still surprised by how empty the parking lot was. And you didn’t even see any workers, or cars that might belong to them. It was just Ransom’s BMW and the deserted farm.

“Where is everyone?” you asked, turning in your seat to Ransom. “Are you sure they’re open?” It was the weekend, they must’ve been open, but you couldn’t make sense of why no one was there.

Ransom snorted, giving you a devious smirk as he put the car in park and turned it off.

“I bought out the farm for a couple hours, it’s just us and the pumpkins,” he explained, squeezing your thigh one last time before stepping out of the car and rounding the front to open your door for you.

You stepped out onto the gravel in a bit of a daze, still shocked by his words. You knew Ransom was wealthy—he was a high-level executive at one of the most successful prestige publishers in the country, not to mention the money he inherited from his family—but him buying out an entire farm just for your date was one of the most extravagant things he’d ever done. Your mind reeled as you tried to fathom how much that would even cost.

Ransom curled a finger beneath your chin and tipped your face up to look at him. He’d taken his sunglasses off, so you were met with the sight of his sparkling blue eyes. Paired with his devastatingly handsome smirk, your knees instantly went weak and your mouth parted in a wordless plea for him to kiss you.

He dropped a quick peck to your lips that was over too soon and swept his thumb across your cheek in a soothing gesture, your surprise melting into happiness as you realized you got to have Ransom all to yourself on your date.

“C’mon, did you really think I’d agree to go pumpkin picking—to go tromping through the dirt on a farm,” he scoffed, his tone warm even if it was a little derisive. “And deal with hordes of screaming children and their families?”

Ransom raised an eyebrow at you and you couldn’t help but snort a laugh as you rolled your eyes. You didn’t even need to answer, because of course Ransom wouldn’t want to deal with anyone else while he was enduring the absolute torture of going pumpkin picking. But then his next words distracted you from thinking about how spoiled he was.

“Besides, I haven’t forgotten our deal. I have plans for you, and we needed the farm all to ourselves for them,” he teased, his smirk turning impish as he ducked down and captured your lips in another quick kiss.

#molly answers asks #navybrat817 #wip ask game #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale #fic teaser

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sitkowski · 3 months ago

Text

hum static (twist it, grasp it) ( ryan sitkowski/justin morrow/ricky olson )

pairing: ryan sitkowski/justin morrow/ricky olson cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ friends with benefits, anal fingering, double anal penetration, rough sex, finger sucking, face slapping, biting, choking, justin is the meat in this sandwich and he left his last two brain cells in that bathroom in paris. word count: 3.1k author's note: my first fic for friends in sin miw kinktober is done. this one is for the prompt of 'multiple penetration'. shout out to @ao3userfeistycadavers for running this bad boy. hopefully i actually manage to get my other fics up during the month. please enjoy this! title comes from "static hum" by chelsea wolfe. divider by @saradika-graphics ✨

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || read on ao3

Justin’s currently trapped in a real life episode of Family Feud. There’s one question on the board: name something your bandmate would ask you out of the blue. And of all the guesses Justin would make, being invited to a threesome was not one of them at all, not even a top five answer. He can literally hear the buzzer sound in his head as he stares at Ricky too long before answering his question. Both Steve Harvey and Ricky are waiting very patiently, the crowd is whispering. Justin is probably losing his mind.

“Repeat that, like I’m five.”

Ricky narrows his eyes at him. “You heard me.”

“Yeah no I did absolutely hear you. I could have sworn you asked me if I wanted to fuck around with you and Ryan. Since when do you and Ryan fuck around?”

Justin’s pretty sure his voice just reached a pitch it hasn’t since he was a teenager. Thankfully no one is around to hear him. Everyone else is dealing with the post show breakdown, and it’s just Ricky and Justin in this hallway, where Ricky dragged him to ask him this very important question.

“Oh no, I broke you.” Ricky reaches up to pat the top of Justin’s head sympathetically. He’s got to stand on his tiptoes to do it. “To answer your question, like six years now? On and off. You gonna answer my question, or are we pretending this never happened?”

The thing is Justin knows he’s in a band of objectively hot dudes. And while the revelation that Ryan and Ricky occasionally sleep together is blowing his mind almost as much as the original question Ricky asked, he’s pretty sure he’d be stupid to say no. He nods, because apparently his ability to speak has vanished as he’s now picturing whatever Ricky and Ryan have been getting up to for the past six years.

Fingers snap in front of his face, and he automatically reaches up to wipe at his mouth in case he’s doing something embarrassing like drooling.

“Uh yeah, no, I’m very much in. When?”

He starts wracking his brain for the next hotel night, and realizes that is where they’re headed after they’re done here. It also occurs to him that he and Ricky are rooming together like they always do these days.

“So I should tell Ryan you’re in for tonight? I need you to be absolutely sure, because the last thing I need is Chris butchering my ass and leaving my body parts along the highway because I fucked everything up.”

He doesn’t have the heart to tell him that Ricky could literally murder Justin and Chris would still love him. “Yeah. Tonight is good.”

Ricky just nods and wanders off to find Ryan, like he asked Justin if they were going to watch a movie when they got to the hotel or something. Justin’s still trying to process it all throughout the rest of the time at the venue. It’s not lost on him that Ryan and Ricky have planned this out, talked about him. He wishes he could have left ahead of everyone else to mentally prepare. Apparently, Ricky’s some sort of mind reader as well as a little sexual terrorist, because he pulls Ryan into the bar instead of towards the elevator when they reach the hotel.

Even though he showered at the venue, Justin showers again since things are going to be happening. It’s a miracle that he doesn’t jerk off before they get there, because he figures it’s pointless if there’s going to be someone else to touch his dick soon. By the time he emerges from the bathroom, both Ryan and Ricky are sitting at the table in the corner.

He feels caught. It’s not an entirely unpleasant feeling.

“Why does this look more like an intervention and less like a threesome?”

Ryan snorts and takes a pull from his vape, and Ricky kicks out the third chair. “Sit for a sec.”

It’s not a suggestion and Justin only hesitates for a minute before sitting down. They’re both looking at him now and he realizes that there’s about to be some sort of talk or feelings or whatever, before anything else happens.

“Is this the part where you two tell me you’re into some very freaky shit—”

“You’re into some very freaky shit. I mean, not on Rick’s level but you’ve got a big mouth. We all know it.”

“Relax,” Ricky says. “You act like I’m gonna chain you up or something.”

“Not the first time at least,” Ryan mutters, and Justin sees him jolt a little when Ricky kicks him under the table. “Have you even done anything like this before?”

Justin raises his eyebrows. “This isn’t my first threesome. Not my first time with a guy either. Two though...”

He trails off because he doesn’t need to elaborate on that. And honestly if he was going to trust anyone like this, of course it would be these two. They’re both staring at him like they’re going to eat him alive and maybe it takes him more than a minute to realize they’ve been looking at him like this for days.

“Is it your first time being fucked by two guys at once?”

“You mean like—”

Ryan makes an obscene gesture that is meant to mimic two cocks and one hole. Justin looks back and forth between the two of them. It’s not that he doesn’t think they’re serious, it’s that he thinks they’re insane. Apparently, some kind of panic shows on his face, and the two of them start having a private conversation with their eyes that makes him want to hide out on the balcony and smoke.

“Fuck, you’ve never bottomed before, have you?” Ricky asks the most obvious question. “You’re a—”

He’s never been ashamed of that, and he isn’t going to start now. “If you say it, I’m going to punch you in the dick and then only one of you will be able to fuck me instead of both.”

Ryan gives Ricky a smug look, and Justin pushes away from the table, making his way towards the bed. They’re both still sitting there, having that same conversation still, so he rolls his eyes and throws himself down on the mattress. Kicking off his shorts, he props himself up on his elbows, waiting to see which one of them is going to move first. While he waits he reaches down to wrap his fingers around the base of his cock, and they watch him before looking at each other and finally moving.

His dick jerks in his hand as they approach the bed, one on either side. Ricky reaches for him first, hand clamping down on his throat to push his head back into the pillows as his mouth comes down over Justin’s. He barely gets a chance to get too into it before Ryan wraps his hand around the edge of his jaw and turns his head so that he can kiss Justin next. Maybe he should be a little concerned with how easy it is to just kiss them both, let them pass his mouth back and forth like a blunt until his lips are swollen and he’s practically squirming into the sheets. But he’s more concerned with the fact they both still have their clothes on.

Finally they let him breathe, if only long enough for Ryan to use that hold on his jaw to make Justin look at Ricky. He absolutely does not analyze what it means that the two of them are smaller than him in some ways and he’s just letting them do whatever they want.

“You with us?” Ricky asks, and Ryan nods Justin’s head for him. “We’re gonna get you ready for us—”

“I, uh,” he knows that saying if you can’t say it, you shouldn’t be doing it is stupid, given the current situation, but he still finds himself stalling on the words in their presence. “Got ready in the shower, I’m good to go.”

Ryan laughs, a little meanly. “That’s cute. He thinks he’s ready.”

Justin absolutely does not whine at that. Except he doesn’t have any control of his mouth at this point, or his hands, which start pulling impatiently at both of them. He needs them to get with the program and get naked already. He tries to tell them that, but his words get cut off by Ricky pressing fingers into his mouth, dragging them over his tongue, pushing them back further. Justin gags, just a little, before he sinks his teeth into those fingers. He wraps his tongue around them, gets them as wet as he can. When Ricky pulls them out, he gives him a quick sharp slap to his cheek. It’s enough to pull a started moan from Justin’s throat.

“No biting,” Ricky says and then he drags his wet fingers down Justin’s chest. “You wanna turn over or you wanna stay like this?”

“You gonna take off your clothes at any point?”

Ryan’s hand comes down on his hip in a stinging slap, and Justin yelps, trying to squirm away from him. It only pushes him further into Ricky.

“Justin, hey look at me,” Ricky’s voice is suddenly deceptively soft, and he turns his head to look at him like he’s told. “You got a safeword?”

If they’re about to play good cock bad cock, Justin cannot tell which is which. They’re fucking with his head and they know it.

“Buffalo.”

It’s the first word that comes to his mind, and something he wouldn’t blurt out during sex. In normal circumstances, anyway. Ryan gets off the bed, moving around to where Ricky’s bags are piled. Ricky gives Justin’s thigh a tap and he just rolls over onto his stomach, shuffling up onto his knees. He hears the sound of shuffling fabric behind him, hears the murmur of voices as they talk behind him. He’s two seconds away from throwing himself onto his back again so he can watch when he feels Ricky’s spit slicked fingers slide into him.

As far as it goes, it doesn’t feel like much more than when he fingered himself in the shower earlier. Justin hitches out a breath and sinks further into the mattress. He feels the sharpness of teeth in his shoulder and the scrape of blunt nails down his back. Ricky’s fingers twist and spread and then there’s more. Because Ryan is edging his fingers in right alongside them. For a hot second, he tries to get away from what is essentially an entire hand in his ass, but then he moans and rocks back into it.

“You think this is enough?” Ryan asks, and Justin realizes that he’s not talking to him, he’s talking to Ricky. “I don’t think we can get any more in.”

Justin couldn’t agree more, all he can think about is how full he feels and how different it will be when they’re both fucking him. He starts to reach for his cock again, but Ryan wraps his free hand around his wrist, pinning it to the bed.

“You and I both know the second you get your hand on your dick, you’re gonna come. Be fucking patient.”

“You still good up there, big guy?” Ricky asks, and he twists his fingers just right.

Justin appreciates the check in but the fact that he’s still expected to form full sentences while they’re stretching him open is some sort of torture. He couldn’t even guess who keeps dragging their fingertips over his prostate, or what else they might be doing behind him.

“I’m gonna kill the both of you, the second we’re done here,” he moans into the sheets. Ryan laughs, and they both pull their fingers out. “Oh thank fucking god.”

His relief is short-lived, as Ryan moves up the bed and fits himself between Justin and the mattress. Justin immediately hauls him into a biting kiss, digging his fingers into his sides, trying to get some kind of control over the situation. But just because he’s under him doesn’t mean he’s got a leg to stand on. Not when he feels Ricky guiding Ryan’s cock into him. Ryan brings his hand up to Justin’s throat, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

“Well, you got one in. Good for you.”

Justin barks out a laugh, “Fuck you.”

The hand on his throat tightens, just a little. Just enough for him to feel it. Ryan gives him that mean smile again. “Yeah. You’re gonna eat those words, Morrow.”

Apparently that’s all the adjustment time he’s getting, and Ryan snaps his hips up. Justin jolts forward, catching himself with his hands on Ryan’s chest and he sucks in a shuddering breath. He lets him set the pace, and knows it’s probably easier that way. When he looks over his shoulder, he sees Ricky’s there, waiting.

“Come on,” Ryan says almost impatiently. The whole talking around Justin thing shouldn’t be doing it for him, yet it is. When Ricky crowds up behind him, fingers absently teasing over his rim where it’s stretched around Ryan’s cock, Justin doesn't think he’s going to survive this at all. Ryan stops moving. “Hold still. Trust me.”

“I do,” Justin blurts out. “I trust you both.”

Ricky braces a hand in between Justin’s shoulder blades, and Justin’s mouth falls open as he feels him sliding in alongside Ryan. It’s more than a stretch, and it’s both uncomfortable and everything he wants. Ryan keeps his hold on Justin’s throat, keeping his eyes on him, obviously checking for any signs that Justin would want to stop. But he couldn't imagine it. He’s suddenly so full that all he can do is breathe in through his nose and try not to claw his way through Ryan’s chest. It doesn’t register to him right away that one of them is talking to him, not until Ricky threads his fingers through Justin’s hair and pulls his head back.

“How does that feel?”

“It’s alotta dick.” Justin’s voice comes out high because of the angle Ricky’s holding him at. “It’s good. Great even. It would be better if you’d move.”

Ricky gives his hair another tug and Justin gasps and writhes up to try and lessen the tension, but it’s no use. Ryan’s no help either, because he wraps his hand around Justin’s cock and starts moving it slowly while both he and Ricky are just inside him, not doing anything.

“Fuck, please, okay I will beg if I have to,” Justin tries to move himself and finds that he can’t, not unless he were to really push for it, but he doesn’t have the brain capacity for it right now. “There is no way you assholes haven’t done this to someone else, fuck.”

“I don’t know about you Rick, but I think he’s ready.”

“Fuck you,” Justin says again, more breathless than the last time.

Ricky lets go of his hair, and pushes him forward, just a little bit more. Ryan’s hand that isn’t on his cock wraps around his jaw, and he feels the bite of his rings as he holds onto his face while Ricky pulls out slowly and shoves back in less slowly, and then Ryan rocks his hips up. All Justin can do is take it, his body pinned between them as they set a pace that makes his brain melt out of his ears. He’s as pliant as he can be, moving with each hard thrust in and slow drag out. Ryan’s let go of Justin’s cock only for him to be able to rub off against Ryan’s stomach while he presses those fingers into his mouth against Justin’s tongue.

“Is it too much?” Ricky asks as he mouths along Justin’s spine.

He can’t speak around Ryan’s fingers, so he just nods his head, pushes back into them as much as he can. It is too much, but it’s exactly what he wants. Ricky grabs onto Justin’s hips harder, yanking him into each thrust while Ryan holds him still. He keeps him grounded. Justin feels like he’s going to melt right off of this bed, off of the fucking planet. Ryan’s wet fingers drag down his face and Justin ducks down to kiss him. Sweat drips down onto Ryan’s chest, stings the little scratches that Ricky’s leaving on his hips and back.

“You gonna come?” Ryan nips at Justin’s mouth, grins when he nods rapidly. “What about you, Rick?”

“Justin, you gotta tell us if we can come inside—”

“Way to ask now,” Justin mutters, looking over his shoulder. “It’s fine I know you’re both clean.”

Ricky groans and laughs, pressing his forehead against Justin’s back as his thrusts grow shallow and stuttered. He can’t actually feel it when Ricky comes, but he definitely feels it when he pulls out, slumping into Justin as Ryan uses the opportunity to fuck up into him roughly. It gives Justin room to be able to move now and he braces his hands on Ryan’s chest, grinding down on him with every thrust upward. Ricky’s at his side now, plastered against him and reaching between them to get his hand on Justin’s dick. His chin digs into Justin’s shoulder, and he feels his eyes burning into the side of his face.

“Hey Justin,” he says, voice casual as ever as he strokes his cock. “You’ve been so good for us.”

“The best,” Ryan groans out in agreement. He grabs onto Justin’s hips hard and holds him down on his cock, and comes inside of him. “Now you.”

It only takes a few more twists of Ricky’s hand for Justin to come all over his fist and Ryan’s stomach. He slumps forward a little, trying to catch his breath. Ricky pets his hand through his hair, and Ryan pulls him down for a slow kiss. When he turns his head, Ricky is there for kisses of his own. Finally, he’s able to lift himself up off of Ryan and fall onto the bed between the two of them.

“Now how do you feel?” Ricky asks. It’s impossible to miss the snark in his voice, and Justin tries to slap at him but it requires too much effort.

Ryan gives him another hard slap to his hip before he pushes himself out of the bed. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question.”

“I don’t have the spoons to answer your questions right now. Ask me again in an hour,” Justin somehow manages to twist himself over onto his back. He grimaces as he can feel the come dripping out of him as he moves. “Oh, I feel that.”

Ricky snorts, propping his chin up on Justin’s chest while Ryan disappears into the bathroom. “How against pictures are—”

“If you take out your camera and try to ask me for an update, you’ll never be allowed near my ass again.”

Ricky starts to say something, but Ryan tosses him a damp cloth that hits him directly in the face.

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