#and sometimes they grip you by the throat with their backseat pining

[reiverreturns]

[fic] Warm Leftovers

Fandom: Top Gun Maverick

Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Jake "Hangman" Seresin/Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

Characters: Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Rating: Teen

.

Before they get back in the Bronco, Bradley slings his arm around Natasha. He peppers the side of her head with kisses. She scratches gently at his ribs before pulling away and Jake, watching with one foot in the door, wonders if he ever stood a chance.

[sagemusesoutloud]

Anti-Romantic, Part 2

(credit to the original owner of the image)

Character | Jaehyun x reader

Genre | nonidol!au, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Fluff

WordCount | 2 K (bitesized for your convenience lol)

Author'sNote | I know this is kinda short, but I've decided not to rush the ending. I'm for sure not drag it out too much, but the slowburn reaaaally got to me and I ended up liking more than I orginially thought, so! I'll be back to post Part 3 tomorrow!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I know that you love me, It makes me deeply drunk

You’re like champagne, I shouldn’t do this

You’re at the base of the stairs to your apartment complex when he pulls up. The window on the passenger side rolls down.

“Hurry! I think they’re about to wash the machines at the ice cream shop!” he reaches over and opens your door while you grab your two bags and your pillow. You loved him, you really did, but he had the flattest, most uncomfortable pillows in the world in his guestroom.

“What? Why didn’t you stop there before picking me up? It’s not like you don’t know what I like.” You’re trying to move all your stuff to the backseat as he pulls away.

He sighs, “Thank you Jae, you’re so nice to pick me up,” he mutters. You’d be a bit apologetic if it wasn’t for the grin he was trying to hide. “I’ve already spent most of my ‘special’ day alone, thanks to someone who had to bail on me. I wanna spend the rest with you.”

“I knew it, it bothered you didn’t it?” You accused while fastening your seatbelt. “Next time, just tell me, I know it seems as if I know everything but I actually can’t read minds.” You knew he was just messing with you but for some reason his words cut at the guilty feeling you were trying to push away. “I actually got you something this time around, it’s why I wanted to see you before the day ended.”

Jae parks the car outside the shop before turning to you, “wait, did you really get me something?” You sigh, offended, “well, if you don’t want it or don’t like the idea of it, then I can still return it.”

“I just thought of you when I saw it…” crap, it’s too soon for you to go anywhere near that subject.

“That’s not what I meant,” he shakes his head, “It’s just been a while since we shared birthday gifts.” You look away from him. If he kept this up, you’ll start to regret calling him. Your hands were slightly shaking with the effort of not reaching over and pouring all your feelings into him. Unlike what you’re used to, he was dressed down with a simple t-shirt and grey sweats. He looked so soft, and domestic. You hated how much you loved it. At least for work, you had both always been professionally dressed, which was a nice barrier for your thoughts. If you dressed professional, you felt professional. This helped control your thoughts. But now that you were here with him, it was definitely harder to keep track of your thoughts.

Today was a day for him, not for you. You took in a deep breath as you turn to look at the shop. It looked like they were getting ready to start closing duties. Even if you weren’t looking at him, you could feel your heart race with acute awareness to his proximity in the small car. He was waiting for a response.

You open your door, “yeah well…if we don’t hurry, we won’t get those diabetes-inducing bombs you’re so fond of. And this all would have been for naught.” You needed to get a grip, fast.

I can clearly see the end, Worse than a hangover

It will be hard, Now, Just end it somewhere here

“I can’t believe you told them it was my birthday,” he groaned, pushing off his shoes at the door. You followed suit.

“Of course I did, it meant free goodies!” You raise the plastic bag with macarons. “It just sucks that they’re all valentine’s themed.” You make your way to the kitchen to put away the snacks you brought, dumping your overnight bag at the door of the guestroom. Maybe if you kept the heart-shaped gift out of sight, it won’t make you as nervous with him.

“I brought your fave by the way, chocolate covered almonds and gummy bears,” you call out. He appears in the kitchen, hair out of his way with a headband. Be still my heart, you thought. You decide to hyper-focus on placing some snacks on a plate to bring to the living room.

“So, what’s the plan?” He reaches over you to grab a water bottle from the fridge, brushing your hip with his front. No no no no no no no!

Was he teasing you? You knew that your face would give you away, you could feel how warm your ears and cheeks were. You hated how honest your face was, and it didn’t help that Jae knew you like the back of his hand. Maybe this is how he is nowadays? Flirty and confident? You’d be lying if you didn’t find it attractive, but not when his attention was only directed at you. You felt like you were slowly suffocating but even that wouldn’t stop the warm light that seemed to burst from your chest.

It seemed so easy to pretend you were closer to him, to pretend this happened all the time. That you were close enough to reciprocate his flirty actions.

“uh, em,” you clear your throat, “actually, I remembered you wanting to see that movie last time we hung out. I have it ready in my apple tv account.” You back away with the tray, “can you also grab me a water?” your throat was suddenly parched.

You settle in the couch, grabbing the throw blanket behind you. Any physical barrier you could place between you, you’d take it gratefully. “You remembered? That was almost three months ago, when the trailer came out.” He handed you your water and grabbed at the corner of the blanket nearest to him, covering himself with it and moving closer to you so that you both could fit under it.

“Jae, there’s another blanket on your side of the couch,” you wanted to feel embarrassed but you just felt an unexpected giddy feeling at him wanting to be near you. “Yeah but it’s my birthday and this blanket is my favorite,” he says as he pulls you closer and wraps his arm behind you on the couch.

“here, put in your credentials so we can start the movie,” he hands you the remote.

You suddenly thank your lucky stars that the movie was an action packed one and not a romantic one. You couldn’t help but sink further into his side, wanting to be comfortable. As the movie starts, he takes the remote from your hand and wraps your arm around him. “I’m cold, keep me warm,” he mutters. Oh sweet Jesus.

Back in the day, this wouldn’t have been something new. Your friends knew you were very heavy with the affectionate touches. A hug, sharing seats, even holding hands. You never shied away from it because it was part of how you showed your friends that you loved them. Some of your friends were also this way, so it was never weird. But now that you’re older, and now that it’s been a long long time since you’ve been close to someone else, the once innocent touches Jae was giving you felt like hot brands across your shoulders and under your arm. If you focused enough, you could feel his hard work at the gym in the way your softness gave way to the hard contours of his leg that pressed against yours and how your shoulder leaned against his chest.

This was going to be a long movie.

You prayed that Jae wouldn’t ask you what the movie was about, you only had enough sanity to pay attention to the first fifteen minutes. It was all a blur after Jae pulled you half over on his lap, “you’re hogging the blanket, move over,” was the only excuse he gave.

Now, your legs were tangled with his and you sat almost on his lap, his arms encircling you from behind. He felt so soft and every little movement made your skin break out in goosebumps. You felt like a live wire about to explode.

“D-did you like it?” you started shifting to the side so you could face him but he held you tighter in place, resting his chin on your shoulder. “yeah, it was pretty good, we have to wait for the end credits though. I heard that they’re starting to give hints about The Eternals.”

“Did you like it?” he squeezes your middle.

Did you? You’re not sure, but you sure as hell loved the attention you were getting for the past two and half hours. “Yeah, all Marvel movies are great,” you finally concede.

“Wanna watch another one? You can pick this time,” his hand started tracing through your arm as you waited for the stupid end scene that was taking too long to start. Is it getting hot in here?

“Sure, whatever you want,” you mutter. He could have asked you for the most ridiculous thing and you would have still agreed to it.

Jae wakes with a start, the room was dark, the only light came from the still on TV. A show was playing softly, the clock under the tv read 3:45 am. He felt pretty hot, was the A/C not working?

He begins to shift when he realizes the position you both are in. Your legs were still tangled together, as if unconsciously refusing to let go of the proximity. You gripped his shoulder, your breath hitting his neck as you slept soundly on top of him. God, if this is a dream, let me never wake up, he thinks.

He usually hates being too close to someone, any sort of intimacy was bad news to Jaehyun. Either emotionally or physically, he kept everyone at a distance because he had seen it too often. How people settled for something they weren’t sure of and hurting those involved. He was aware he was too logical sometimes, but it’s what he knew to protect himself. Moments like these, they only lead to expectations and empty feelings, leaving behind only pain that even time couldn’t heal sometimes.

But why was he finding it so hard to untangle himself from your embrace? He should go to his bed and sleep comfortably, but at the same time, having you in his arms felt just right. Like two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together.

He could smell the light scent that was you and it almost made him squeeze you closer, as if it was possible. You smelled of spring, a light floral scent that reminded him of better days.

He was glad he woke up, he was going to enjoy every second of peace this brought him. He would store it in a little box and hold on tightly when the cold reality came back. As he fought with his drowsiness, he felt you nestle closer. He kissed the crown of your head as he finally gave in to sleep. I hope I dream of you… If this was love, he finally understood why sometimes the pain was worth a shot.

So stupid, sweet love song, extravagant rom-com

As much as I was happy, on the receipt there’s a red line

EndNote | I know this chapter was pretty short. In all honesty, I had written something else before deleting it entirely and starting again, but I really like the direction the story is going now. Hopefully I can update Part 3 tomorrow, but I'm really excited about it!

Previous: Part 1 | Next: Part 3

[candescentclitoria]

What About You? What About Me?

Pairing: Zelda Spellman x Reader, Other Character x Reader.

Warnings: Does unrequited love count? Cause that shit hurts.

Co-Writer/Editor: @empatheticroses​

A/N: This took a long while mainly because my friend and I had classes up our asses.

You had been pining after her for years. Two, to be exact, but it felt like an eternity with how your attempts to let her know had been disregarded. Specifically, when you would do little things to help her work as the Unholy Choir’s director—bringing her cups of crisp cold water, sometimes cups of hot tea when she had a sore throat. When you would visit the Spellman residence, just to see more of her and to say ‘hi’ to the family, you would help her tidy up, make her drinks, tiny snacks; even helping to clean up after dinner. Your help didn’t go unnoticed by the other residence members, who thanked you with either a hug, specifically a Hilda hug, those were the best or a kind tone of voice. 

Whenever Zelda did notice, she would nod and gently pat you on the head. Saying a quiet ‘thank you.’ Perhaps you were petty for wanting more gratitude from the redhead.

Months go by, Zelda was with Marie now, and for a while, you thought you could handle it; and you did for the most part. You were holding it well, all the way up till Hilda and Cee’s wedding reception. After Sabrina had saved the coven from “The Uninvited,” the evening’s festivities continued. Sipping on wine, you innocently looked over, you saw Zelda and Marie kiss, after that, it was over, you had to leave. Tears in your eyes and walking, you accidentally bumped into Hilda. “Darling, what’s wrong?” The blonde asked, her hand gently grasping your forearm. You shook your head, “No, I am fine; I don’t want to ruin your night. I just have to go.” You said, not without looking away at Zelda one last time. Hilda looked at you after you turned your head to her; an understanding look from the blonde was all you needed from her before you left.

Everyone had noticed how you craved the attention and acceptance from the redhead, even her sister. When it came to it, Hilda was your shoulder to lean on when Zelda was seemingly prospering, and you were shriveling, dejection, and hurt filling your soul. When Zelda had married Faustus, you tried your best to support her. Being her friend, you felt you needed it; however, Hilda told you that feeling the way you were, betrayed and hurt, was perfectly fine. 

When Zelda had come back from her Honeymoon under the effects of the Caligari Spell, you tried your best to reach her, yet she pushed you away, saying she had always been that way. When she had the spell broken, you were right by her side, placing a hot cup of tea in front of her. You had pushed yourself to dig your happiness’ grave just to please her, your mental and emotional health pushed to the side to prioritize her’s. To say that you were breaking was an understatement. You were already far gone, broken,  yet you chose to stay, pampering Zelda as she walked off with another. Hilda held you as you sobbed that night, wailing at the heartbreak that consumed you once more. 

Your legs push you to the main foyer of Dorian’s, a quiet ‘lanuae magicae’ leaving your lips as you walk. Your surroundings turn from those of the nightclub to your bedroom; quickly, you move to gather your things, using your magic to finish quicker. Your suitcase, full of your clothes, was ready to be put in your car. Any type of electronic you own is packed separately and carefully. Your bed is stripped of its dark grey sheets and comforter, packed in another suitcase. You were doing it. You were leaving. Finally, after years of pining after Zelda, pampering her every need and want, and your suffering, you were putting yourself first. You decided then and there; you would never let yourself get hurt just to please someone ever again, mainly when they chose not to acknowledge you and your attempts to please them.

Changing your clothes, you place your dress in the suitcase with your clothes, zipping it up and teleporting it to the trunk of your car, your other bags following as well. By now, your trunk and backseat were bound to be full, perhaps even your passenger seat. Walking downstairs, you grab your spare money jar. It was meant for paying bills, but you wouldn’t need to pay them for a while, not until you settled down somewhere else. 

Ten thousand dollars in cash, you had ten thousand dollars. That itself was more than enough combined with your current amount in the bank.

With a small sigh, you turn off all the lights with a wave of your hand, and staring back into the darkness of your living room, you shut the door and leave. Your first stop was the Spellman residence. No one would be home, so it was perfect for you to get in, get out, and leave a note for Hilda. An apology. You apologized for so many things in the letter you had no clue what it was about anymore, just an apology, you supposed.

 Admitting it hadn’t been hard, but you would miss your chaotic adoptive niece, always causing something to happen in Greendale. Ambrose, still having to help her fix the mistakes. Your little, yet highly elder, nephew. His small spouts of wisdom from all his years of living.  Hilda and her kind heart, her ability to calm you down just by existing. And Zelda,  there was so much to miss about her, the snooty remarks, the ways she’d reel you in hook, line, and sinker. She was leaving you deft and dim, leaving you to crack and pour. 

The letter was addressed to Hilda, and you had hoped that she wouldn’t tell Zelda with the begging inside the note. You hoped she would tell Ambrose and Sabrina and tell them not to let Zelda know. You were moving on. That was that. 

What you hadn’t expected when you left and arrived in Scarsdale, a small quaint town outside of Greendale, was to meet a woman. A beautiful, kind, and acknowledging woman. When you had bumped into each other, her coffee spilling all over her, you repeatedly apologized, saying you’d buy her another coffee and pay for her dirty clothes to be cleaned. She nodded and let you guide her to the coffee shop, buying her a replacement drink and a pastry. And then, she asked you on a date. Her name was Edalyn, Eda for short. She was in her thirties, much younger than Zelda, and very foxy. She had bright ginger hair, wild like a lion's mane, yet well kept. Her eyes were very light brown, and in the sun, they were golden. 

Eventually, one date turned into two and two into three. Soon enough, five months of seeing each other passed, and you decide to move in together. Eda herself turned out to be a witch. 

Yes, it did remind you of Zelda, but you had Eda now. You didn’t need Zelda, and you didn’t crave her affections anymore. You desired Eda’s, and she gave it freely. Whenever you would bring her little snacks or drinks, she would kiss your cheek, take your hand and say ‘Thank you.’

When you would bring her lunch for work- dinner if she stayed later than usual- she would pull you into her lap and nuzzle into your neck, mumbling tiny ‘Thank you’s. Fixing her a bath before bed rewarded you with kisses all over your face, tiny ‘I love you’s leaving her throat. Even if you didn’t do anything for her, she would kiss you, whether it was on your cheek, neck, lips.

 This is the affection you always deserved. You reminded yourself.

 Eda fixed you, and she said that you set her as well. 

This is the affection you deserve.

 At night you would cuddle into her arms and fall asleep to the sound of her heartbeat, her chin resting on the top of your head. 

You deserve to heal.

Some days, Hilda would apparate to you, checking in on you. She would kiss your cheek and hug you, telling you that when she finished apparating, she would teleport a basket of pastries to you. She would ask you how you were doing if you had met anyone. You told her you had. You told her how happy Eda made you, how well she treated you. Hilda would smile and place her hands on top of yours, “You deserve every bit of affection she gives to you! So long as you return it!” And you did, you told her. Every time Eda would be affectionate, you would be affectionate back. A smile would cross her face, and she would tear up, “May I say something?” You’d nod. “Zelda is… she’s going nuts dear. She hasn’t heard from you, and she thinks you're just ignoring her. Just be careful alright? You know Zelda, she always does something bizarre when she needs an answer.” You had nodded and Hilda frowned slightly, “I have to go now. Sabrina and Ambrose miss you dearly; we all do. And don’t worry, we haven’t told Zelda what happened.” A small ‘thank you’ left your lips, and you smiled at Hilda. “Bring Sabrina next time, okay? Maybe Ambrose if possible.” She would nod, and then, she would be gone.

The next time she visited you, Sabrina was with her, and Eda was home. Hilda approved of Eda quickly and telling you she, as Sabrina would be right back, they disappeared and reappeared, this time there. Hilda’s warm arms welcomed you, and you teared up as you laid your head against her shoulder. Sabrina moved to wrap her arms around you, and she nuzzled into your shoulder. 

Tears freely flowed down her face, her brown eyes almost shining. “I missed you, Auntie (Y/N).” A shaky, “I missed you too, kid,” escaped your lips, and you kissed her forehead. You turned your head to look at Eda. “Eda, this is Sabrina and Hilda, Hilda, Sabrina, meet Eda.” Hilda had moved to hug her immediately, thanking her for taking care of you. Sabrina shook her head gently, little chuckles escaping her mouth.  After Hilda had finished her ‘thank you’s, she had set out to your kitchen, with yours and Eda’s permission, to cook some dinner.

Sabrina gently put her hand out, “It’s nice to meet you. Auntie (Y/N) talks about you to Aunt Hilda all the time!” Eda chuckled, moving her hand to grips Sabrina’s, “And have I made a good impression?” 

“The best.” Sabrina glanced at you. Your hands were busy making the broth for the soup. “Anyone who makes my Aunts happy has my full approval.” A smile graced Eda’s face, and she looked at you. “I make her that happy?” Sabrina Nodded. “Yeah, My other Aunt, Zelda- the one (Y/N) is in hiding from- held (Y/N)’s affection for a long time. One day she had enough and left, finally choosing her happiness and mental health over someone’s Auntie’s. My Aunt Zelda was foolish not to realize what was in front of her all this time, but it’s too late. (Y/N)’s moved on, she’s happy now, and I can’t thank you enough for helping her fix herself, Ms. Eda.” 

“Thanks, Sabrina; I’m glad I make her that happy.” Sabrina nodded and walked off to the kitchen, leaving Eda to her thoughts. She never knew how happy she made you and the fact that she knew now? She wanted to give you the best life possible, so she promised herself she would.

Eda’s eyes glanced to look at you as you worked beside Hilda. A smile was plastered on your face, and Eda couldn’t help but smile as well. She walked over behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing your cheek. She was whipped for you, no doubt. 

Another thing you hadn’t expected, after being told that Zelda had no clue you had indeed left, was for her to turn up on your doorstep. She looked paler than usual, her hair was the slightest bit frazzled, and her makeup was much more minimal than usual.

“Thank Hecate. I’ve finally found you.” Blinking rapidly, you open your mouth to speak, “How the hell? How did you find me? Who told you where I was?” Shaking her head, she steps past you into the living room. “No one, but that fact that others knew and I didn’t hurt. Let me guess, and you told Hilda, Sabrina, and Ambrose to hide it from me that you left? Am I right?” A small nod is all you can muster up, eyes glancing up into hers. “Well then, it’s time for you to come home. I’ve realized I made many mistakes when it came to you. You’ve been by my side through everything, and I want you as mine.” 

You raise your brows in shock. Is she serious?

 “You’re- You’re joking, right?” You say quietly, fists clenched at your side. “No, I’m not. I realized that I’ve been horrible to you. I didn’t even consider your feelings or your mental health; I’m sorry (Y/N).”

A raspy voice calls out to you, “(Y/N), what’s going on, babe?” 

Eda!

She rounds the corner and moves to you but stops as she lands her eyes on the redhead. “Who is this?” Closing your eyes tightly, you gently take Eda’s hand. “This is Zelda, Eda. Zelda, this is Eda, my girlfriend.” Zelda’s eyes widen, her hands raise slightly, but she puts them back at her sides. “So you’ve… you’ve taken a lover.” You nod, hand tightening on Eda’s. “Yes, I have.” 

A growl escapes Eda’s lips, and she glares at Zelda, “What the hell are you doing here? After everything you’ve done to her, you have some nerve.” Zelda throws her hands up, stepping back slightly, “Trust me, I have no harmful intentions; I just wish to talk to (Y/N).” You place your hand on Eda's shoulder, shaking your head when she looks at you. Now wasn’t the time for Eda to lash out. Truthfully, Eda always had a temper, letting her anger sometimes get the best of her. She was never abusive in any way, instead she tended just to cry or punch a pillow. Her rage was never brought out on you. 

“What do you want, Zelda? Why’d you come looking for me?” Zelda gently grabs your hand and moves with you to sit down on the couch. “As I said earlier, I’ve realized how I’ve made you feel. Forgotten, unloved, disregarded: like you don’t matter, but you do, I promise. It took me a while to realize that I’m sorry (Y/N). Please, come back with me, give me another chance, and I promise I will make it up to you. I miss you, darling” A scoff leaves your throat, anger slowly taking over your calm mood.

“You’re joking, right? You’ve got to be. Zelda, why do you think I left? I left because you pushed me to the side and treated me like I didn’t matter. You don’t get to make me feel like shit; you don’t get to parade around my house and throw a pity party for yourself. You had every chance to miss me before, miss me when I was at the wedding, miss me when I left early, but you chose to miss me when I moved to Scarsdale and finally found someone that cherished me! Someone that showed me the love and affection I deserved when you wouldn’t do any of that! You have no right to claim that you’re upset when you didn’t notice how much I craved your attention; how much I cried over you! When you married Faustus, when you fell in love with Marie, Hilda held me while I cried because I felt like you didn’t love me. Hilda held me every time I was hurting because of you- and I chose to stay because even though I was in so much emotional pain, I cared about you more than I cared about myself!” Tears come to Zelda’s eyes; her hands clench against her chest. 

“So if anything, fuck you, Zelda Spellman, fuck you for thinking you get to march into my life and confess your love. Go back to Marie; maybe she’ll kiss your ass and make love to you.”

Small sobs fall from Zelda’s lips, her form starts to shake, and she wraps her arms around herself. Your eyes widen, and you glance at Eda. “Marie is gone (Y/N).” You look at the broken ginger before you, sighing, “I’m sorry, but this allows you to grow yourself.” You say, looking at her with compassion despite the storm of anger raging inside you. Zelda looks at you and nods timidly, “I...I will let myself out. I hope you have a good life here, thrive the way you deserve, darling.” Zelda says before walking towards the door, and then she leaves. Eda’s hands gently land on your shoulder and you move your hand on top of hers, “It’s over (Y/N), you don’t have to worry about her hurting you like that anymore.” A nod is all you can muster and you turn around, placing your head against Eda’s chest. Small sobs leave your throat, hands gently holding Eda close by her waist.  That was it; you had finally put your foot down, finalizing the burned bridges between you and Zelda- and as much as it hurt, you felt better than before.

[psalloacappella]

show me how

Pairings: SasuSaku Fandom:  Naruto Rating: M Genre/Tags: AU; in which Sasuke is a driver, Sakura plays no games; also has an underground fight club; sexual tension; dominant Sakura; Uchiha bros being bros Ao3 | twt

In which Sasuke is the new driver for the Haruno heiress — and therefore, prey.

[In the words of Rihanna, You look like you can handle what’s under my hood // you keep saying that you will, boy, I wish you would.]

❦

His mother would say he’s aiming a bit above his station, lip-chewing, worrisome; his father would disapprove, thinking the new client spoiled.

Itachi, greyish eyes twinkling with some genial but teasing expression, shifts to let his ponytail tumble down his back. Women adore the look; Sasuke likens it to a horsetail well within earshot every chance he gets. Brothers, you know.

Pinching the photo between thumb and forefinger with hesitancy, the lack of commitment stark as a first app-date gone sour and seeking escape, Sasuke knows he’s pouting and he knows Itachi’s amused.

“I’d have taken her,” he consoles softly — Sasuke hates that tone too, like he’s chivvying a hot-tempered horse into his stable, oh gods, fuck Itachi for this — “but out of the two she requested you. Very taken with your photo.”

“Itachi.” The given name comes through gritted teeth, and Itachi struggles not to smile. Sasuke hopes the effort’s absolutely killing him. “This is the Haruno heiress. Pink hair, red temper?”

“Funny, I do know. Almost as if she’s famous, dear brother.”

“Infamous. For killing her last driver.”

“Oh, come now.”

“Running him off. Driving him to insanity.” And here Sasuke jabs the finger of his free hand against the photographed face: smiling, with a sharp gleam in her jade eyes. He punctuates each syllable against her cheek, “Take—your—pick!”

Itachi’s tongue clicks continue to conjure pastoral images of horses and other farmish animals, and Sasuke thinks this unasked for, supernatural form of punishment is a right divine kick in the mouth.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sure the talk is mostly nonsense,” he soothes. Bending to behold the portrait shot further, he rests his fingers against his mouth. Pensive. People often adore that too. “After all, she’s cleaned up her image quite a bit.” Itachi extends his hand, counting off her improvements:  “Issued apologies for the yacht incident—”

“Pretty sure she’s banned from the piers now.”

“Recovered brilliantly from her very public and messy breakup with the Hyuuga heir—”

“A piece of shit, granted, but she still keyed his car, and then his face—”

“Even had a great photo-op of visiting Uzumaki Naruto in the hospital—”

“That she put him in.”

“She even disbanded her underground fight club,” Itachi added, plucking the photo and folder from his younger brother’s hands, a final that’s that!

“Her what?”

“Bad optics. Oh, and you start Monday.” He pats a stunned Sasuke gently on the shoulder; not one to easily manage particularly happy or buoyant expressions, he prays to whatever forces or deities exist that he’s been passed over for the coveted yet dangerous position of personal driver for Miss Sakura Haruno.

.

Driver — ah, the term is misleading. A position often including, but not limited to:  Chauffeur, personal assistant, event planner, bodyguard, bookkeeper, and occasionally dragging paparazzi out of the bushes by their lapels, testing meals for poison, and smuggling her short-term affairs in and out of back building doors.

A skittish attendant is the only witness to the moment in which he meets her in person.

Sunshowers, an unnatural brightness like daylight thunderstorms; a presence difficult to face head-on. Slender and swagger, something in the way she walks suggesting she’s aware of exactly who she is and what he’s probably heard, keen eyes plucking his thoughts from his soupy skull by slice and piece only to toss them aside, limp, discarded.

And she’s gorgeous. Beauty in lethality, the inherent quality pined for in mythological Olympian goddesses and well-crafted guns and dangerous and unwieldy luxury cars. The wreckage left in their wake easy to augur with plain eyes if anyone can resist the siren song.

Sasuke’s hands are clammy when they shake. She notices, with a gaze like whetted glass.

Fuck Itachi. Fuck this. Fuck me.

“How do you like to be addressed . . . Miss Haruno?”

A smirk plays on her lips. “Not like that, for damn sure. Sakura’s fine. Let’s go.”

She’s opening her own car door and about to lower herself in before he snaps to — the tyranny of her heels against the cobblestones twists him into impossible nautical knots.

“I don’t care if you get the door,” she says, “but Tsunade’ll have your head.” With a jerk of her chin, she indicates she’s ready to go.

“Won’t happen again,” he says, dipping his head in apology and settling into the driver’s seat. “Where to?”

“Oh, wherever.” Flicks a dainty wrist, yet he catches the brushrust scrapes smeared across her knuckles. “You’re a driver, after all; I want to see you drive.”

Easing the car into gear, they pull away from the curb in silence. Eyeing him caddy-corner from the back, she folds her arms and crosses her long, impossibly long legs at the ankles.

“So.” The word’s sharp as a blade, scratches him without warning. “What do you know about me?”

He makes a noncommittal noise, hoping to avoid riposte; when he catches the slight flare of her nostrils in the mirror, he settles on the bland and stupid, “I’m not sure what you mean, Mis— Sakura.”

“Don’t play coy,” she says. “Tell me what the quidnuncs on the street say, gossiping over their limp salads and lackluster lives.”

“I’ve heard you’ve run every driver out of town.”

“Yes, that’s fair. The last one quite literally; he was terrified, in the end.”

“I’ve heard you . . . play with your food.”

Another careful peripheral glance in the mirror:  He sees her uncross her arms, grip the edges of the seat. Leaning forward, eyes bright and something, essence or woven narrative or tangled web undulating, unraveling. She exposed; him, encroaching.

Voice low, lean, and throaty when she affirms,

“Yes, sometimes I do.”

The click! of a released seat belt latch, and she’s sliding over to the backseat behind him.

Sasuke’s mouth runs dry, parched as desert sand, sunbaked stone. There’s a first time for everything, including this unsettling feeling to which he has nothing to compare.

Leather moulding to her shape as she leans against the seat, her gaze seeking refuge and scraping at any weak spots in the back of his skull.

“If you were hoping for a shy one, you’re driving the wrong car for the wrong girl.”

He scoffs, but it sounds nervous, bad for business —

she’ll devour him.

“Of all the things I’ve heard,” he says, “shy was definitely not one of them.”

He doesn’t know when his voice decided to do that, slide into a low bass with the ease and thrum of rich regal rhythm; he doesn’t know when he even had a breath to release, the way it manifests as a pant in the hot shared air of the car.

“Lest you be misinformed,” and still her tone is grainy, the stret-scratch of extempore acoustic guitar, “I don’t act this way with all my drivers. Any, in fact.”

“Ah.”

“Don’t, with that aloof disbelief.” She presses her foot against his seat and he feels a jab right in the middle of his back, the equivalent of a flirtatious swat at the arm. A bit more intimidating than that, he supposes.

“Everything is so public for me,” she continues. Pauses. “I’m almost never alone. Drivers continue to disappoint me, pretending to be my confidant but in reality reporting my behavior to sleazy paparazzi. It’s never about the money; they love divulging. They can’t help themselves.”

He would be willing to debate the “drivers” label, but he now understands why the last one and many before have been dealt a particularly heavy hand in the method of released employment.

“So.”

This time the word’s triumphant, and Sasuke manages not to startle as her heel settles on the shoulder of the driver’s seat. Skin close enough to press his lips to, swirling floral scents of jasmine and others unidentified, salient sweet cherry. Glancing at the tempting slope of her calf, he keeps his eyes firmly on the road even as the dark corners of his mind lead his mouth marching up her pliant skin, bound by siren song, and into what surely is the most sacrosanct and calamitous temple of them all.

“You have this chance to quit,” she whispers. “Right now, no fuss.”

And he betrays himself a second time, scoffing as the suggestion of course is mirthful, ridiculous, knowing somehow he’ll never do so. He’s never been one to shirk duty, and untangling from this, whatever this is, already bids the trappings and fixation of an addiction too virulent and electric to leave.

“I’ll take that as acceptance,” Sakura says, now all joy and sparkle, wiggling her shoe near his handsome face.

Though his hands are clammy on the wheel, his words manage to gloss over the catch in his throat as he asks, “Ah, where to?”

In the mirror he watches:  Another layer of her falls again, as crêpe layers, as petals. It’s the first time he notices the lambent green of her nails, and she nibbles on one before responding, in a way so deliberate he’s distracted by the way her lips form the words:

“Show me how you drive.”

[multiharlot]

too little too late / s. reid

summary: spencer and y/n have been together for about eight months and she’s beginning to pick up on some things she wish she could remain oblivious to.

warnings: nothing really, light cursing, definite angst, this one is a long one. lmao sorry (2 part imagine. so be on the lookout.)

masterlist 

part 2

y/n’s pov

there was always a little piece of her in everything we did. i had somehow become a third wheel in my own relationship. i had taken the backseat for someone who wasn’t even here anymore. i should have known. i should have known the moment i brought him along to get my haircut.

“how do you feel about blonde?” i ask, flipping through the color book.

spencer shrugged and looked over at the book, gently pulling it from my grasp.

“how about black?” he suggests, turning to the back of the book with the dark hair samples.

at the time, i didn’t think anything of it. and i didn’t think anything of it when he had also slyly suggested bangs. i never thought anything of it when his team came over for dinner one night and morgan had pointed out how i eerily resembled my boyfriends deceased ex-lover. i never thought anything of it when spencer would lock himself away, rereading her letters or running his fingers over the book she had gifted him. perhaps it was because i didn’t want to think of it. i wanted to deny it until he had more time to make room for me in his still heavy heart. losing a lover wasn’t an easy thing to cope with, and i had no idea what he was going through. so i only thought, that this was how it was supposed to be. i let myself believe that this sort of treatment was normal. but it’s not.

“hey spence?”

“hmm” he hums tiredly as he tightens his grip around my waist.

i drag my finger over his smooth forearm, tracing the veins bulging through his skin.

“i love you”

“mmm love you too” he mumbles into my neck as he slowly drifts off into sleep.

this was the night i finally had to admit to myself that maybe this man wasn’t as good for me as i thought he was. as i laid in bed, facing my exhausted lover, i placed my hand on his cheek, rubbing my thumb softly over his stubbled cheek and letting my hand travel from underneath his jaw and into his hair. a content sigh falling past my lips as i studied every inch of his face. as if i had to memorize it before it could dissipate from my view. a gentle and tired smile reaches spencer’s face and he opens his mouth slightly, sucking in a breath of air, and mumbling softly as he exhaled.

“maeve...”

my hand froze and i quickly retracted it from his soft brown curls. my heart plummeted into my stomach and my throat tightened. spencer sometimes talked in his sleep, and it was one of the things i grew to love so much about him. one of the many things. but as he continues to mumble her name amongst the sweet nothings that escaped his lips, i had never hated his quirks more than i did right in this moment. i shifted my body onto my back and spencer pulled me closer, her name still escaping his lips from time to time. this made my mind race. what had she looked like? was morgan right? do i actually look like her? was that the only reason why spence was with me? i hadn’t actually realized how long i had laid there, staring at the blank ceiling, but before i knew it, the sun began poking through the blinds in spencer’s bedroom window. i still found my body paralyzed from the emotions when spencer’s phone rang out. i quickly turned my body away from his, closing my eyes and i listened to him groan and grab his phone from the table. 

“hello?”

“yeah...yeah okay i’ll be there.” 

he lets out a long sigh and throws the sheets off of his body. i kept my eyes closed as i listen to his rummage through the room. eventually, i hear his footsteps come closer to me and he runs his hand through my hair, his hand traveling down to my shoulder and he shakes me gently. 

“hmm?” i hum out, too afraid to look into his eyes. 

“i have to go, but i’ll call you. okay?”

“hmm.” i hum, flipping my body away from him. 

he lets out a chuckle before i hear him exiting the apartment. i release a breath that i hadn’t realized i was holding and sit up in bed, staring at closed closet doors. the letter filled box screaming at me through screens of the door. i threw the covers off of my body and searched through the articles of clothing and pulled the small shoebox from the back end of the closet, carefully opening the lid and flipping through the opened envelopes. every part of me wanted to read what the letters had said, but i had decided that i had already gone far enough into invading his privacy. but between the envelopes, i found what i had been searching for. the small 4x4 wallet sized photo of a beautiful woman. i looked as though he had taken the photo from a print out of a new article, but she was beautiful. far more beautiful than i could have been, no matter how many times i cut my hair, no matter what color i chose to dye it. no matter how many boxes of contact lenses i had purchased to replace my glasses or how many new articles of clothing i purchased because spencer had told me how much he enjoyed seeing them on me while we were at the store. i wiped my wet cheeks and tucked the photo back into the box, every bone in my body had began to shake with anger and embarrassment. angry at what a fool i was to fall into his tricks. embarrassed that i hadn’t noticed what exactly he was doing. i was giving my all to someone who was giving me nothing in return and now i had been run dry. i took a deep breath and put the box back into the closet. i stood from the ground and grabbed a piece of paper from his desk, writing out the note. 

spencer, 

i cannot compete with someone who cannot be here to claim their victory. i refuse to continue playing the fool. i love you. and i tried to understand your pain. i tried to help you through your struggles despite the hurt you inflicted on me every time you turned me away to pine after someone who couldn’t possibly respond to you. and maybe i’m being harsh right now, but it’s been years since she passed, spencer. you had so many chances to not continue this relationship. i had left the door open for so long, yet you insisted that you were ready for this. and i let myself believe that you were. but i can’t keep pretending to be somebody you need. i can’t continue being a surrogate for the love you lost. i won’t keep laying next to you when my name isn’t the name that’s leaving your lips when you fall asleep. i can’t stay with you when i’m not the woman you’re dancing with in your dreams. i hope you find peace, spencer. everyone deserves peace. just please don’t try and find peace in somebody else again.

y/n

a sob escaped my lips as i neatly folded the paper, leaving it on top of his desk. the morning sun was still high and bright in the sky. i grabbed my phone from the side of the table and dialed my best friends number, i knew he wouldn’t be awake right now, and should this be any other circumstance, i wouldn’t be calling. 

“y/n? why are you calling me in the middle of the night?” he groans, making me chuckle as i wipe the running snot from my nose onto my sleeve. 

is that gross? yes. do i care? not particularly no. 

“trevor? i umm...i need you to come get me.” i whimper as i walk around his home, collecting my things that were placed sporadically throughout his apartment. 

“what? what’s wrong? where are you?” he rushes out, i hear his keys jangling through the other end of the phone as i ran my finger over a framed photo of us that was placed gently on the mantle. 

“i’m at spencer’s. i’ll tell you when you get here.” i sniffle. 

“yeah. okay. i’ll be there soon. do you need me to stay on the phone?”

“no...just...get here.”

i hung up the phone and take the photo from the frame, deciding to leave no memory of us. as if we had never existed. because that’s certainly how it felt. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*10 months later* 

“daniel, baby, please breathe.” i smile, placing my hand on my boyfriend’s broad chest to withhold him from his continuous rambling. 

he chuckles, taking a deep breath before nodding his head. 

“i know i know. i’m sorry. this guy just...i moved here to get away from the big town crime. yet here i am, dealing with some rambunctious serial killer.” he frumps, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration. 

i give him a gentle smile and clean up the plastic containers littering the small coffee table in his office where we were taking a quick lunch break after i had finished my all night shift at the hospital.

“yeah well, you have the fbi coming in. they’ll help you figure this out.” i say as i throw the containers into the garbage. 

“and i have my beautiful trauma nurse girlfriend who will definitely come save my life if i have a panic attack over this?” he asks, a dopey smile on his face. 

“of course.” i giggle, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 

there’s a soft knock at the door and one of his deputies pokes his head into the office. 

“hey guys, sorry to interrupt but that fbi team is here.”

daniel looks at me apologetically and i wave him off. 

“go greet them. i’ll finish cleaning up in here and then i’ll head off.”

“okay. thank you. and let me know when you get back home please?”

i nod my head and he stands up from the couch, placing another kiss to my lips before walking out of the office. i had met daniel about a month after moving away from quantico. we had met on my first day at the hospital after he had sprained his wrist after tripping to get a cat out of a tree. i was originally very hesitant to get into another relationship so soon after spencer, but daniel had proved to be ten times the man spencer ever was. daniel showered me with the love and affection i never got from spencer, and he always reassured me when i needed it. he was so patient with me and took good care of my fragile heart. soon enough, i found myself in love with the small town sheriff and had long forgotten about the man who took my love and ran with the wind. that was, until i walked into the middle of the small office and came face to face with the bau. 

“y/n” morgan gasps quietly and my eyes skim over the team, eventually meeting spencer’s. 

my heart skipped a beat and my hands turned into fists at my side as i gripped tightly onto the pants of my scrubs. i felt a hand on my lower back and my vision shifts upwards to my curious boyfriend. 

“you guys know each other?” he asks, flipping his line of sight from me to the team. 

“yeah ummm...i didn’t know you brought the bau in...” i mumble, and daniel nods cautiously. 

“yeah i did...are you okay, y/n?”

i cleared my throat, grabbing daniels button up and dragging him down to my level, standing on my toes as i whispered into his ear. 

“spencer’s on this team.” i whisper quickly before releasing him from my grasp. 

“oh...oh” he says, his eyebrows raised as his eyes fall onto spencer. 

i quickly elbow his side and smile nervously at the team still standing in front of me. 

“well, ya’ll have a serial killer to catch, and i have z’s to catch. i’m really tired, so i’m gonna head home. but it was nice seeing you all.” i smile, nodding my head awkwardly as the deputy leads them into the back of the station to set up. 

spencer’s gaze never pulls away from me and i shift uncomfortably. 

“hey, are you sure you don’t want to stay at my house?” daniel asks worriedly. 

i roll my eyes, placing my hand gently on his cheek. 

“i will be just fine. nobody will mess with me knowing i’ve got a mr. beefy boy as a boyfriend.” i wink, bumping my hip with his. 

“yeah, stronk beef cake will protecc and attacc.” his deputy snorts, making me throw my head back in laughter. 

daniel rolls his eyes and grabs my chin, pulling my face up and pressing a swift kiss on my lips. 

meanwhile, spencer and morgan stood at the table, both staring intensely at the sheriff and the woman who used to look at the resident boy genius the same way she looked at this small town sheriff.

“looks like you’re too little too late, kid.” morgan says, placing an empathetic hand on spencer’s shoulder. 

“i lost one love, i’ll be damned if i lose another.”

[gaycrystalfemme]

Power Couple

Chapter 2: Flashbacks

I can't wait forever.

With that thought, Blue got distracted from finishing the last article of the thick law book she had been studying. She'll be taking the bar exam in a few weeks and getting held up over such irrelevant thoughts were detrimental.

Bzzzzzt!

Her phone vibrated. A message. It read:

"Honey, your whereabouts? I'm at the Stardusk café, currently. Would you care to join me?"

Blue started dialing Yellow's number. Before it was answered, Blue gently cleared her throat and adjusted her voice to a whisper. "Yellow. Yes, darling, I... Oh. Yes, as of the moment, I am at the library. I'd love to join you but what time will you be.. Oh. Yes, okay."

Yellow. She had fancied Yellow for the longest time since they were younger. And yes they were both female, but that did not deter her from harboring romantic feelings towards Yellow.

Not straight, huh? Oh, but there is no other way. There is no one else I'd be with if not my Yellow!

Blue would have this dialogue in her head every time she found herself questioning her feelings for Yellow. A glorious day it was when Yellow finally confessed. It was one of Blue's most prized memories.

~ ~ ~

Years Ago

"Blue, I.. Can we speak after etiquette class?"

Summer time, it was supposed to be leisure time for normal kids. But they were not normal kids. They were members of the handful elite.

Young Yellow is studying culture, languages, and etiquette over the summer. Her friend, Blue, is also doing the same. They were in different classes though.

They spend the few months at a prestigious academy, known only to the very wealthy, honing and learning new skills. However, what mattered most was their status, their image, the expansion of their empires, their ability to lead. They had to be perfect.

Blue could not concentrate. Ra, La, or was it Fa? She was looking at Chinese characters but nothing seems to click in her head aside from what Yellow left open-ended earlier.

What is she going to tell me? Could it be that she has a boyfriend I don't know about? Did she agree to date the guy who owns the winery? Or the son of the owner of the Yacht club? Or worse, could White have set her up with a groom of her choosing?? Should I confess my.. Oh my lord, what am I gonna do?!

Over the years of befriending and getting to know Yellow, Blue gradually saw her as more than a mere friend. She began seeing Yellow in a romantic light. Perhaps due to their conversations, maybe their shared appreciation in fashion, maybe Yellow's hidden compassion.

One time, Yellow shared her juice box with Blue just because she knew Blue loved that so much. From then on, Blue felt a spark. It's like she's a person and not just some elite being. An equal to Yellow. On other occasions, Yellow would touch her shoulder or her back as a sign of camaraderie, and she'd have thoughts of their hands intertwining. Before she knew it she was secretly pining over Yellow.

By the bench at the school park, Yellow was seated waiting for Blue. She was usually stiff and serious even at a young age, but today she was obviously restless and sweating.

"Yellow, have you been waiting long? Sorry, I just got out of language class. I came as fast as I could."

"It's fine, Blue. Let's.. walk, shall we?"

Blue was nervous herself. Both of them walking side by side but awkwardly. Yet neither could take notice as they were both immersed in their own heads. There was an unspoken presence between them. Doubts, fears, uncertainties, feelings..

"Blue, I.."

They had been walking for a while, perhaps about thirty minutes, until they stopped in an empty and secluded patch in their academy. Since only very few enrolled during the summer, it seemed like the place was entirely theirs. Yellow held Blue's hand and, with all her might, looked Blue in the eyes.

"Blue, I have.." Yellow gripped Blue's hand tighter.

"Yellow? What.. What are you trying to say?" Blue's chest tightened with Yellow's grip. Flutter, uncertainty, confusion: all at once.

Yellow could no longer contain herself. She was always the type to attack. At that moment, she deemed words would be insufficient. She decided, instead, for a grand approach.

With her right hand still holding Blue's, Yellow stationed her other hand at Blue's shoulder for anchor. She pulled her subtly trembling body towards Blue. Their faces had never been this close. So close, she could smell Blue's breath and their noses could touch. Yellow closed her eyes and softly, for the first time, kissed Blue in the lips.

"Blue, I've.. I have feelings for you! And if this.. information would terminate our friendship, then so be it."

"Yellow.."

Blue was undeniably shocked with what just transpired. It took a few moments before she could grasp the situation.

"I feel the same, Yellow. For the longest time! I'm beyond the stars just knowing you feel the same way for me!"

"Blue, would you mind if we be exclusive?"

"I.. I love you, Yellow!" Blue sloppily and ungracefully lunged towards Yellow's face and sealed her response with an inexperienced kiss.

~ ~ ~

At the Stardusk Café

Where the hell is Blue?!

Yellow grew impatient by the second. Her temper was easily thrown off the window. Sometimes it was her weakness, sometimes her strength. She tried her best to manage it though, especially whenever the situation involved Blue.

While Blue was busy with the upcoming bar exam, Yellow was busy negotiating with various clients. She was expanding her business in Asia. And though they had been together for a while, it had become more difficult to see each other. Especially since they were building and expanding their careers.

Yellow's hotheadedness was mainly caused by the excitement and frustration to see her darling, Blue. She wanted to see her, to be with her. But there was too little time.

"Honey," Blue had finally arrived. Yellow's temper melted with the sight of Blue.

"Blue, you took long enough."

"What?! You told me eight. And it's just five minutes before eight! Pearl drove as fast as she could. Anyway, can we eat somewhere? All the studying left me famished."

"Okay, Blue. But I need to get home by ten. Ten thirty at most. I'll be meeting a client early tomorrow. You know, with Mr. Cho. It's a make or break for the company, so.."

"Yes, darling. I get it. I have to be early too. I'll be speaking with the current chief executive lawyer of the firm and review a few contracts so the turn over would be smooth once I pass the exam."

"Yes, of course."

They steadfastly left the café and went to dinner at the nearest fancy restaurant. After dinner, it was already past ten. So in compliance to Yellow's assigned curfew, they decided to go home. Yellow's assistant was driving them as Blue sent hers earlier after dropping her at Stardusk.

First route was to drop Blue off, then to Yellow's house. In the backseat of Yellow's gold car, Blue closed her eyes and rested her head on Yellow's shoulder. Yellow held Blue's hand.

"Yellow, this is becoming more difficult. We barely see each other and when we do it's always in a haste."

Sigh. "I know, darling. But that's how it's supposed to be. We both have huge responsibilities."

"But maybe we don't have to haste every time. Maybe we could still be influential figures to society and still have time for ourselves. Yellow I want to spend more time with you."

Yellow kissed Blue's hair, "What are you suggesting?"

"You might think I'm silly but.. I want to marry you, Yellow! I want to be married to you, I want you to be my wife. I've thought about this and probably we can get to spend more time at least. You would come home to me, I'd come home to you. Life would be.. perfect."

Blue had sounded casual even if she may have wanted to inject more emotion to what she had just confessed. She had began to feel the fatigue of the day's work.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

Yellow was in awe with what she just heard. Gently she pulled Blue away from her shoulder so they could face each other. It was obvious in her face that she was blushing.

"Are you suggesting.. we get married, Blue?!"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"Of.. of course. That is unheard of!"

"But Yellow, it isn't. You know that. I don't suppose you enjoy our quick dates, do you? And what are we after this? It feels like we're just dating. For the next eternity, will we still be just dating? I want to be your wife! Do you not see that?"

Blue now all fired up with frustration from Yellow's response. She thought Yellow would want the same. It seems otherwise.

"Sorry if I lashed out like that. I'm.. I'm just.. tired," Blue submitted to defeat.

"No, Blue. Don't be. I'm sorry. Please know, I do want to be married to you too. We'll have to plan this, however."

"Yes, I know."

They arrived at Blue's mansion. As they approached the driveway, Blue tidied herself a bit before alighting the gold vehicle. There was a certain weight in the air from what they had just discussed.

She pecked Yellow goodbye but before she could turn away, Yellow whispered softly to her, "Blue, I.. I want to.. touch you."

"Oh. Then, uh, come. Stay with me tonight," she smiled softly but tiredly.

"Pearl, go home. I'll call you tomorrow when I need you. Be up early." Yellow took off with Blue, taking her fancy purse and laptop bag.

"Yes, Ms. Diamond." With that command, Yellow's assistant drove home without her.

"Do you have everything you need, honey? Paperworks? Contracts? Mr. Cho, tomorrow?"

"I believe everything is here," Yellow subtly tapped her laptop bag. "I'll just have Pearl bring whatever I left, if there is any. Perhaps a set of clothes! Is.. is it okay if I stay tonight? I feel like we need to.. talk."

"Pfft! You know it's fine."

This wasn't the like usual nights they'd have. Usually these quick dates would end up where they both go home separately. Occasionally, they'd come home to one's home and spend the night. But when and if they do, it had to be scheduled. Finding time for such an activity weren't as easy given the things they have to deal with on a daily basis.

Yellow suddenly felt the urge for Blue. Perhaps due to the pressure of her company's expansion. Perhaps due to Blue's upcoming bar exam. Or probably due to the marriage bomb Blue had just dropped earlier in the car. She wanted them to connect physically that night.

They both started making out and undressing each other once they reached the master bedroom. They couldn't stop touching and kissing each other. Not being able to do this for a while had its perks. They took a bath together, and, after doing so navigated to the bed.

Now, the only universe that mattered was theirs. They melted into each other's love and smooches and caresses. They moaned and screamed like there was no one else in the world. Blue had particularly felt like being on top was appropriate that night, so she took the role and made Yellow feel ecstatic beyond the heavens. After Yellow reached her peak, she made Blue feel heavenly as well. From the moment they reached Blue's room, it took probably two or three hours before they both finished.

Panting, both now sweating and were facing one another. Yellow cuppped Blue's cheek and softly kissed her.

"Blue. Let's.. get married."

"Yellow I thought-"

"Everything you said earlier in the car, I want that too! To come home to you and you to me, yes, I would love to be able to do that. I've always loved you, Blue. I don't think I can ever be with anyone else! Please, will you be my wife?"

"Yellow, I.. Yes! Of course!" Blue bursted in tears, but that of joy. Happiness she couldn't contain.

Yellow pulled Blue closer to encapsulate her in the warmest most loving hug. "It's settled then. We'll only hire the best."

A wedding was on the way.

Mrs. Diamonds. It sounded perfect for them both.

[reverieisitspleasure]

(All these Kabal thots made me want to start writing again but i haven’t written anything in a long time so this is where im gonna start i guess)

The day had been long, and it was hotter than normal this time of year. You were crammed into a small jeep with three large men and no A/C. The mix of hot, dry air and sweat made the vehicle feel like sitting inside of a sauna.

Kano was driving and fidgeting with the radio, trying to find some music to drown out the loud clanging and clunking of the run-down vehicle. Noise was noise as far as you were concerned, and you were too tired to care what kind of noise it was. Kabal sat next to you in the back. Between his broad frame, armor and weapons the backseat was slightly cramped and you two were sitting closer than most would, thighs and shoulders almost touching. Erron was up front in the passenger side. His dusty, wide brimmed hat pulled down over his eyes, arms crossed over his chest.

You closed your eyes and slumped your head back against the headrest, letting out a loud sigh which grabbed Kabals attention. He turned his head to look at you. Sometimes he was thankful for the mask, that way he could stare at you as long as he liked without anyone noticing. He let out his own small, almost silent sigh as his eyes traced your face. This notorious, ruthless criminal had every inch, every line, every adorable imperfection of your face memorized. To say this man pined for you was an understatement. Kabal licked his lips as a bead of sweat traveled down your neck, past the collarbone, momentarily stopping on the very top of your breast before being absorbed by the cloth of your tank top. He let out another sad sigh as he turned his head to look out the window. He shifted in his seat and placed his elbow on the windows ledge, then grabbed the handle next to his head at the top of the door.

Kano took a turn too fast, causing you to slide slightly. Your head lightly fell against Kabals shoulder. The mercenary froze in place instantly. His grip on the handle tightened as his breathing stopped. His bicep bulged under the sleeve of his shirt, threatening to tear the fabric. You were too tired to slide your head back and silently hoped Kabal wouldn’t mind. When he didn’t move after a few seconds you relaxed completely and started to doze off.

Erron grumbled under his hat and looked up briefly, annoyed by the fast turn. “KANO!!” Erron yelled as the Aussie, not paying attention, hit a huge hole in the dirt road. The instant dip and lurch of the vehicle caused you to scream. Your hands reaching out for anything to hold onto and in the chaos grabbed Kabals thigh. Kabal loudly moaned “Oh shit”’ and ripped the handle off the car.

“Oh my god I am so sorry Kabal.” You said as you jerked your hand away. Kabal slowly turned his mask to face you and cleared his throat. “Uh yeah, it’s ok. No big deal. Fucking Kano and his shit driving amirite?” A sad chuckle followed after.

“Oi Lord Vader how about you shut the fuck up back there, my driving’s just fine. Damn pothole came out of nowhere.”

“Fuck you One-Eyed Willy, you can’t drive for shit. Hell, my grandmother drives better than you and she’s fucking dead.”

“Jesus Kabal, now that’s just hurtful.” Kano scoffed looking in the rear-view mirror.

“Whatever asshole. Just get us back in one piece alright.” Kabal grumbled.

“Your driving is shit.” Erron stated, pulling his hat back down over his eyes.

Kano huffed. “Well fuck you too.”

You chuckled at the bickering men, then settled back against the seat as you were. Your shoulder lightly touching Kabals. You weren’t certain but you could have sworn you heard him sigh softly when you touched.

@chadillacboseman thank you for the Kabal inspiration, more to come when i have time. 

[pacman-tattoo]

unrequited [jeremy h. x reader]

( @pariswithamustache can we see a jealous reader being jelly because of Jeremy's crush on Christine )

titles it jeremy x reader when its one sided because why not.

also it kinda steers away form jealous reader to reader and michael being buddies and more pining than jealousy sometimes also sorry if this isnt what u wanted hhhh

warnings: can the fact it’s one sided be a warning. as in like. no romance. also general swearing but that happens anytime i write anything so

     You always knew the exact moment Jeremy saw Christine. You, him, and Michael would be in a conversation about something and then Jeremy would stop talking or maybe he’d sit there like an idiot with a straw in his mouth as he stared off in the distance, but he’d stop. You didn’t even have to look up to tell he saw her, and Michael would always glance your way the moment it happened. You’d clear your throat - maybe nudge Jeremy if needed - and that would be enough to snap him out of his thoughts. Sometimes it’d last only a second, sometime it’s be a few, but never too long.

    “Sorry,” he’d always say. And then he’d gush about Christine. You and Michael would glance at each other, just knowing.

     One day he surprised the two of you, in the middle of Michael explaining that Jeremy doesn’t have to be strong or cool. You had figured out that Jeremy had stopped listening

    “I think I’m going to sign up for the play.”

     You nearly choked on your soda, your arm flying to your mouth. Michael slid a napkin across the table to you before he answered Jeremy. “Why?”

     Jeremy only smiled and looked over to the sign-up sheet was pinned up where a certain girl stood in front of it, pushed onto the balls of her feet as she signed at the top line. “Christine’s signing up for the play.”

    “She always does, Jeremy.”

    “I know, but... maybe this time if I sign up, I can talk to her!”

     How do you know she’ll even like you? You wanted to spit the thought at him, but you can’t. He’s so happy. “Go for it, then.” Michael looked at you again. You ignored it. “If it’s what you want, Jer, then just go for it.”

     Apparently Jeremy didn’t expect that, but he was glowing with happiness.  “Alright! Thanks, [y/n],” he said and smiled at you, and the wall you’d built crumbled ever so slightly.

     Lunch passed. Jeremy left you and Michael minutes earlier, giving him enough time to cross the lunchroom and sign his name. Michael only watched as you balled your fist as you watched a nearby group of popular people give him shit for it.

    “Don’t.” He warned softly.

    “I won’t,” you said, “fuck, Michael. It’s not even them.”

     He frowned. “I know.”

    “Just... I wish he didn’t talk about her everyday.”

    “I know, just...” He frowned, about to say something as the bell rings. “C’mon. We gotta get to class.”

     You sat between Jeremy and Michael on the floor, listening and watching them scream at Apocalypse of the Damned. For people that immediately made fun of Jeremy for signing up for the play, they were quick to change their mind - especially Rich Goranski. You caught a glimpse of Jeremy’s backpack lying against the wall, BOYF still written boldly across the top of it - how the fuck does Rich do that and then just turn around and-

    “Maybe... it’ll help me talk to Christine.”

    The way Jeremy had gone quiet, his voice barely above a whisper as he died, GAME OVER appearing in blood red letters but Jeremy didn’t look, his attention falling down to his hands as he fumbled with the controller. As nice as Mr.Heere was, you could tell that the lack of him being in Jeremy’s life was starting to really get to him. You didn’t blame either of them - how could you, really? Everyone dealt with things differently.

     You just wished that they’d talk. Maybe then it’d be different. Maybe then-

    “...[y/n]? You there?”

     You looked up, a soft “mmh?” escaping your throat as you stared blankly, before looking back to Michael.

    “We’re gonna go see if Rich’s story checks out. You coming?”

     You nodded. Jeremy smiled and you felt warmth that could rival the sun’s blossom in yous chest, your heart damn nearly skipping a beat and you had to wonder why was it Jeremy, why did you fall for Jeremy, out of everyone, why did it have to be the one boy that was your friend and infatuated with someone else? You followed the two out of the house and bit back your feelings as you plucked at the edge of your shirt.

     At least Jeremy was happy.

    “Since when does Jeremy eat lunch with Rich Goranski? Or Chloe or Brook or-”

     Michael slid into the seat across from you, the sound of a tray hitting the table grabbing your attention as you shut your math notebook, ignoring the note you’d scribbled in the corner to Jeremy - who acted as if you weren’t even sitting next to him the entire time. And did his work. Math wasn’t even his thing sometimes - he was fine when it came to any sort of science-y math, but geometry? 

    Jeremy hated geometry. It was one of the classes the two of you spent complaining about how bullshit it was while you pushed through the word, whether answers be wrong or right. And today he was silent. he didn’t look at you, he didn’t greet you, he didn’t do anything. The two of you had suddenly been pushed a million worlds apart and you weren’t sure why.

    “Dunno.” You chewed the inside of your cheek, “he didn’t talk to me earlier.”

    “Yeah,” Michael muttered, “it was like I wasn’t even there.”

     You looked back to your hands. “Did we do something?” You paused. “I mean, he left the mall yesterday. He didn’t even say anything to us-”

    “I know,” he frowned. “Fuck, I know.”

     Then again. “Michael? You don’t think it could have worked... do you?”

     “What? No! The... thing wouldn’t just make him ignore us like this.”

     You shrugged. “It was just a thought.” Michael frowned once more. You drummed your fingers your arm as you thought. “... you wanna play Apocalypse of the Damned? I mean, I’m not that good, but we could still play.”

    “Jeremy has it.”

    “Oh. Yeah, shit, you’re right.”

    “... I do have Melee, though.” Michael smiled a little - even if it was forced.

    “I gotta meet Mrs.Andrews after school though,” you said, “do you mind waiting?”

    “Nah. Why this time?”

    “Dunno. I think she found one of my “missing essays”.”

    “Is she still giving you shit for that?”

    “Yeah. She is. I mean, I don’t blame her - I’ve lost homework in the past but essays? Dude, I don’t lose essays. They cost too much and I remembered turning them in-”

    “I still don’t get why she didn’t just have you print them out again.”

    “She was close to it.”

     For once, you and Michael talked. It was nice. But it was still missing Jeremy.

     Michael was upset when you emerged from the classroom, the forced smile he had twitching slightly as he held himself together by the seams, putting on the best I’m okay, I swear face he could muster up. You slipped your hand into his and guided him out of the school and toward the emptying parking lot. When you looked back to Michael, you expected him to break - even slightly - but he didn’t. He only walked out to his car, unlocking it and climbing into the driver’s side after slinging his backpack into the backseat and you could see him holding back from slamming the door. Michael had a thing about slamming his car doors because he didn’t want to fuck up the windows, so even if it was something small  - there was something that grounded him.

     He gripped the steering wheel tightly.

    “You were right.”

     You had just slid into the passenger seat - something you would have fought Jeremy for - when he spoke. “Michael?”

    “You were fucking right.”

    “Fuck, Michael-”

    “He didn’t even know we were there. Then he looked off, as if he was talking to someone else and then he left without another word. I’m just-” He let out a groan, “fuck, I hate this bullshit.”

     “I know.”

     You were lying on the floor next to Michael’s bed, staring at the ceiling, and thinking. As angry as you were with Jeremy, part of you just... wished he was there. You wished he was lying in the middle of Michael’s bed with you and Michael on either side, arguing over the best generation of Pokemon, or sitting up playing video games together for once. You missed the way your heart would flutter at the slightest brush against you sometimes, the way that Michael would tease you over how you were blushing the moment that Jeremy left the room, the way Jeremy would laugh at you two bickering over him even though he didn’t know it was him you were talking about. There would be moments that sometimes the three of you would fall asleep close enough that your back would be against Jeremy’s or sometimes you’d end up with Jeremy’s head on your shoulder and Michael would be curled up close to Jeremy and it’d be quiet and nice and warm and safe.

    “Hey... [y/n]? You awake?”

    “Yeah.”

    “You thinking about Jeremy?”

    “... Yeah. I am.”

     He sighed. “C’mon. I know the floor sucks.”

     You stood slowly, carrying the blanket Michael had thrown down to you before climbing onto the free side of the bed. You wrapped the blanket closer to your body as you looked to Michael. “I wish Jeremy didn’t like Christine.”

    “[y/n]-”

    “I know how that sounds but I do. Because maybe he wouldn’t have thought he needed to change. Maybe he’d still be here if he didn’t like Christine. Fuck, Michael, I can’t help but think about him.”

     When Michael didn’t speak, you continued, “I liked having Jeremy here. I liked it when we were all happy. I miss his laugh and I miss him being oblivious sometimes and I miss yelling at him because he threw a red shell at me for the fourth fucking time when we were Mario Kart. Fuck, it hasn’t been a day and I’m already weak as fuck and missing him.”

     Michael still didn’t speak.

    “I seem pathetic, don’t I? Fuck, I can’t even go one day without Jeremy fucking Heere.” You breathed in, looking over to Michael, “lok, Michael, I’m sorry. I just... I miss him.”

     “... Me too.”

     You caught a glimpse of Michael’s backpack, sitting against the wall close to the door. RIENDS was still written across it in the same bold lettering. Jeremy would probably buy a new fucking backpack or some shit.

    “Fuck Jeremy,” you ended up muttering at some point. Michael chuckled. Even for something so small, it meant so much. 

     As you started to drift off, you heard him softly speak. “Fuck Jeremy.”