#i also need to go to target but i forgot what for
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cherryview · 1 year ago
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not busier tomorrow 😭 evil! pure evil! i hope all the clients and stuff are so nice that and the work goes by so easy despite it.
good luck with the crown! i hope you do get a fun drink after! what kind of flavours do you usually go for?
my day’s been good! i am Indulging until the evening and then cracking down on studying 💪🏼 manifest some self-discipline for me so i don’t leave the cracking down until the crack of dawn 🤲🏼 amen
you will crack down tonight!! you will get a lot done!!! 🔮🔮🔮
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devondespresso · 2 years ago
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the feminine urge to dig through every scene steve is in to compile a masterlist of any and all traits, facts, and details we could gather from canon
and not to prove a "right" way to characterize him but to give more ideas and jumping off points for us to play with. we don't have a lot of details explicitly laid out for us so we do assume a lot (some of those assumptions don't have a strong canon backing which is fine but some definitely do and a lot of people don't realize?? we're not too far off with some of this) but theres definitely stuff implied here and a good bit of it's probably intentional (you're rarely "looking too far into it" with filmmaking. there are happy accidents but a shit ton of this is intentional otherwise it wouldn't be there)
anyway would anyone be interested in seeing it? rn it's just like an impulse before i go to bed but if anyone actually wants to hear whatever i find it might actually push me to do it tomorrow
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chemicalarospec · 2 years ago
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ohmygd I have to liveblog the Xiaolu reaction to the RW&RB trailer because hawlehtashdl;fkajsdljf
it's a completely no-background reaction; we're literally going to get his unfiltered homophobia. I mean I'm joking, I don't think he's homophobic But You Never Know.
he hopes it's going to be a fantasy where "there's a hero with a big sword and a villain with a big sword and they have a legendary battle". The bullet comments are right: 笑死我了。
Also I checked out the below comments and xiaolu seems to have found it confusing but The People are defending it because "trailers for movies based off books often make more sense after reading the book" and they all loved the book, election drama and all???? My earlier assessment that the American political catharsis is key to the book's popularity was completely wrong I guess.
His guess is that Alex and Henry are "models for a male magazine" alk;sjdf
WTF HE RECOGNIZED BUCKINGHAM PALACE ON SIGHT???? "I know this room." ???? I don't think this is just Normal for British people??
He said it's a fking stripper cake. I see it.
He can also recognize the crosses/ribbons/symbol thingys of the British knighthood orders on sight... he was in the military though allegedly so that kinda makes sense? The one Henry is wearing is the Order of St. Stanislav.
He's infodumping on the Order of St. Stanislav right now. Apparently it was the lowest Russian Order, originally Polish, discontinued in 1917. Henry is wearing the old Polish version because the eagles are white. He put an image comparison onscreen and it's not a perfect match but I see it.
"'To convince the world [they're] actually friends' - oooooh, I see, so basically. Are they gay?" YES. LET'S GO. He figured it out 45 seconds in (yes I had to pull of the trailer separately to figure that out for this post no one will read). He thinks they're trying to convince the press they're not together rather than not enemies, but close enough.
He's critiquing their unrealistic ability to get around security and I translated one of the bullet comments to "the bodyguards also ship it" haha.
Xiaolu is not homophobic 💪💪💪 he says "the filmmakers are underestimating how majority of people don't care about someone being gay" and like tbh this is just repeating history with Heartstopper and Love, Simon -- all these gay books get adapted 5 years after release and then the Climate of Homophobia and Queerness is just not the same but the filmmakers don't change it because it's integral to the plot and so they come off as awkward.
top comment agrees with xiaolu's final assessment (dismissive) but follows: "But if it can add the son of the Russian president, the son of the French president, and a mysterious boy from the big eastern country as the second part, I will call it a masterpiece." First reply is "Hetalia" and I can't tell if the countries were chosen in reference to a Hetalia poly ship or just random. tbh I like the vibes of the chosen countries tho hahaha.
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clownboy-yeehonk · 11 days ago
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I may have spent an unfortunate part of my last shift before pto explaining to surgeons (plural) (like honest to God holders of a medical degree surgeons) (residents AND THEIR ATTENDING) how tape worked (didn't work, they didn't listen, things went sideways due to their lack of understanding of tape and how it works) but at least my "fuck off to the mountains of Vermont to relax" vacation is also stressing me out to an unnecessary level
#my uncle has finally shared the check in details for the ski trip with a comfy 48 hours to spare#i am rooming with some ladies from massechussetts named sue linda and kim#they are reportedly in their 50s to 60s good skiiers and nice#i have never met them i have no contact information i will be showing up and sharing a suite with them#because in a last minute ploy twist my uncle did NOT ghost me he just booked me with his ski club without telling me until like a week ago#which is great i love last minute plan changes 🫠#i have no idea what they have been told about me either#the good news is that while i have had mixed success with people my own age middle aged women fucking love me#its my primary target audience i think#like i think i can make friends with them#i mean ill need to bc i will be sharing a BEDROOM with one of them its a 2 bed 2bath unit#im also going to canada for dinner at some point in this venture#NO i dont know when or what restaurant thats silly i have just been told to bring my passport#i hope i dont need canadian money bc OOPSIE DOODLE YOU DIDNT REPLY TO ME UNTIL 2 WEEKS BEFORE THE TRIP#and like i was doing well with it until like 2 hours ago but i have NO IDEA what the social dynamica of this trip are gonna be#PLUS my dad is cranky about it bc he has beef with my uncle bc of the family drama™️#and in all actuality they are just nice ski ladies the likes of which ive made exemplary small talk with on the lifts many times before#and i think he just adhd-ed a little too close to the sun and forgot to email me back#but really who the FUCK books an ENTIRE VACATION for someone and forgets to FUCKING TELL THEM#I MADE MY OWN RESERVATION KING SIZE BED ALL TO MY SELF#and yes this is quite literally a quarter of the price and also it is a good thing to be social and make friends and do things with others#so yes i cancelled it and came out like 1500 bucks ahead i have made several stress purchases bc of this#bc heeeeeuuuuuuuuuuurghhhh i have not had enough time to mentally prepare for this i dont know what theyve been told of me#i can only show up with drinks and snacks and my funky self and hope it works#meanwhile my sweet optimistic mother is already saying “MAYBE THEY HAVE HANDSOME SONS!”#linda sue and kim seem like white wine drinkers i think i hope i believe#there is no reason to think they will be anything other than lovely like i have no reason to believe it wont be#and yet 🙃#last minute plan changes make me feel like i am actively being hunted for sport
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im-so-normal-iswear · 1 month ago
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Hey! Saw your requests are open. If you havent been overwhelmed eith asks I have one for Yandere Shadow if you're interested, if not you're fine!!
What about a Yandere Shadow and Sonic with an S/O who's extremely affectionate and overprotective? BUT, as a twist, They're this way with everyone they care about. They just have a lot of love to give❤️
(Bonus headcanon that Eggman targets them first in fights because his robots literally cant get anywhere near anyone else due to how protective they can be of others. They focus on others so much they forget they might also be targetted)
A/n: idk how long this was in my inbox for
Yandere Shadow/Sonic x Overprotective, Affectionate Reader
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Shadow:
Shadow isn't used to the kind of affection you give, not from anyone. He wasnt quite used to affection to mych at all. Not after Maria at least.
You're the type to wrap your arms around people in your life without a second thought, ruffle their hair, or reassure them with kind words whenever they’re feeling down.
At first, he thought this affection was only for him. The way you’d stand beside him in fights, ready to shield him from harm despite your lack of superhuman abilities, left him both confused and, strangely, touched.
But then, Shadow began to notice a pattern.
You weren't just protective of him. You were protective of everyone you cared about. Whether it was Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, or even strangers in trouble, you'd throw yourself into the way to ensure no one got hurt.
Your willingness to put others first was respectable, but it also infuriated Shadow.
Didn’t you realize how reckless it was? Did you think anyone else deserved your warmth and care the way he did?
Shadow tried to reason with himself. He knew your affection was genuine and that your overprotective tendencies came from a place of love.
Still, that jealousy in his chest clawed at him every time he watched you worry and fuss over someone else.
His thoughts turned darker as he began to wonder if maybe he needed to teach you to focus that energy solely on him...
It wasn’t unusual for Eggman to target the people Shadow cared about, but this time, Eggman targeted you first.
Shadow’s blood boiled when he realized why. Your protective nature made you an obstacle to Eggman’s plans, your sheer determination to shield others from harm meant that his robots couldn’t get anywhere near his intended targets. And worse, your focus on others left you vulnerable.
Shadow was livid. Not at you, but at the world. How dare anyone put you in danger?
You were so busy worrying about others that you forgot to worry about yourself. He decided right then and there that he'd do whatever it took to keep you safe, even if that meant keeping you away from everyone else.
In the days that followed, Shadow became even more possessive. He started hovering closer during battles, stepping in before you had the chance to protect someone else. If you tried to shield Sonic or Tails, Shadow would pull you back with a firm grip, glaring at whoever dared to draw your attention.
"You can't keep doing this," he’d say in a stern voice. "You're going to get yourself hurt. Let me handle it."
At home, Shadow became even clingier. He didn't like how much energy you gave to others, so he made it his mission to monopolize your time.
Every moment spent with him was another moment you couldn’t be out there, being with someone else.
Still, he couldn't completely suppress his jealousy. The way you’d light up when hugging someone else made his fists clench.
Your constant reassurances that you had enough love to go around only made him more determined to make you see that he deserved all of it.
"Why do you waste your time on people who can’t protect themselves? They donct deserve what you give them. I'm the one who'll keep you safe, not them"
Sonic:
Sonic's usually not the biggest fan on being the receiving end of affection, but when it comes to you, he loves it. In fact, he thrives on it.
You're always ready with a hug, a playful nudge, or words of encouragement that make his heart race faster than his feet.
At first, he thought you were just that way with him, and he basked in the attention.
But Sonic quickly realized that you didn’t just have love for him. You had love for everyone.
You'd throw yourself in front of Tails to block an incoming attack, fuss over Amy if she got a scratch, or rush to Knuckles aid whenever he bit off more than he could chew.
Your boundless compassion for others left Sonic respecting you even more, but it also left him feeling insecure.
As confident as Sonic was in his abilities, he couldn’t shake the fear that someone else might steal your affection.
He wanted to be the one you turned to, the one you prioritized above all else. But your overprotective tendencies meant that you focused on everyone equally, leaving Sonic craving more of your attention.
Then came the day Eggman decided to target you.
It wasn’t hard to see why. You were a force of nature in your own way, your determination to protect others made you a threat to Eggman’s plans. Sonic’s heart dropped when he realized that Eggman saw you as a liability.
The first time one of Eggman’s robots aimed directly for you, Sonic barely managed to stop the attack in time.
"Hey, what were you thinking?!" he scolded, his voice tinged with panic. "You can't keep throwing yourself in the line of fire like that!"
You brushed off his concerns, he did that stuff all the time, why was it any different?
Sonic wanted to argue, but he couldn't bring himself to. Still, he made a silent vow to protect you, even if it meant protecting you from yourself.
Sonic's jealousy is more subtle than Shadow’s, have to keep up the 'perfect hero' act. He'd crack jokes whenever you doted on someone else, masking his unease with humor. But if someone started to take over your time, Sonic wouldn’t hesitate to intervene, dragging you away with some flimsy excuse.
Despite his possessiveness, Sonic would never stop loving your affectionate nature. It's part of what makes you, you. But he’d do everything in his power to ensure that your love didn’t come at the cost of your safety, even if it meant keeping you closer than you’d like.
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thesingingrevolution · 2 years ago
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need 2 baddies yuta digipack more than i need food or water…….. i no longer want avocado now i want to take a spontaneous trip to target and hope for the best
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reidrum · 8 months ago
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all yours if you want me | s.r
pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader
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a/n: i think i really like this but if i proofread it one more time im gonna hate it so im just putting it out now lol. this is the full version of the sneak peak i posted last week woohoo ! also this is my first time writing smut so im sorry if it sucks but i hope y'all like it <3
summary: bau's got their first day off in weeks, and you're heading straight to the club to have some fun, you just didn't expect your coworker/crush to also be there while you're trying to forget him.
cw: 18+ minors pls dni, smut, p in v (dont be silly wrap ur willy), munch!spence, lowkey softdom!spence, suggestive dancing in public spaces, minor insecure reader, reader is afab and wears a dress and heels
wc: 4.6k
pls let me know if i forgot anything and let me know your thoughts pleaseee xx
it was the first friday night off you and any of the team members of the bau had in a long time, and you all were determined to spend it well. jj and hotch immediately went home to their families, penelope and emily decided they were going home to get some well needed rest, rossi went to a cigar club, not really sure what derek and spencer ended up doing, but you knew what you were doing tonight.
you’d had a long standing invitation from one of your college friends for a club night, and at first you’d decline because you’d get swept away on a case, and because you were hopelessly pining after your hot nerdy coworker dr. spencer reid.
spencer was smart in many ways, three PhDs, countless published papers, not to mention that eidetic memory of his. there was one thing that spencer was just fucking dumb at, and it was your shameless flirting at him.
like it annoyed you how clueless he was. you’d bring him coffee in the mornings with hearts drawn on it, fall asleep on his shoulder on the jet rides back, even complimenting his outfit or looks which made him flustered, but still nothing. your harbored crush seemed to stay just that, a crush. and while you’d hope he would get the hint he just hasn’t.
so you pull out your phone to text your friend. 
“barry’s at 9?”
“oh my god FINALLY. i’m there i'll pick you up at 8:30.”
you grin to yourself, this was good. you needed to get out and unwind for once.
you drive home quickly to hop in the shower before your friend comes to get you. throwing on a silk slip dress as your outfit of choice, you slipped your heels on and met your friend in the car.
walking into the club, you’re met with the thumping bass of the music playing and the staunch smell of alcohol, sweat, and sex.
it made you think about the last time you got laid, which was a really long time ago. and honestly you wanted to sleep with spencer so bad you hadn’t been making advances elsewhere. but that was going to change tonight, you were determined to have good slutty fun, and hopefully get laid.
your friend grabbed your hand and beelined to the bar, ordering two tequila shots each. once you downed them you moved to the dance floor and started preying for a target. as you’re scanning the room, you notice a familiar looking mop of brown hair standing next to bald headed man. a combo you knew all too well.
-
derek morgan was a player. and before he’s a player, he’s a damn good friend. which was his reasoning for dragging spencer out of his apartment to come out to the club and have fun.
“but i can have fun at home by myself morgan.”
“kid, you need to let loose once in a while. you are young, i’m just helping you take advantage of it.”
-
so now spencer’s at the club (a sentence he still struggles to believe) wearing trousers and navy button down shirt to which morgan had popped the top buttons open because ‘it gives the ladies a sneak peek’. he just rolled his eyes and went with it. he’s nursing a shirley temple at the bar, perusing the environment when he comes across a pair of eyes he knows like the back of his hand.
when you recognize the amber eyes you couldn’t believe your luck. of course, on the one night you’d decided to explore other options he shows up in the least expected place for him to be. so much for getting over him, you think. shyly raising your hand to wave, spencer returns the gesture. morgan takes note, “who are you waving t- oh, pretty girl is here huh pretty boy?” he nudges him.
a blush raises on his face. spencer thought you were attractive, like really attractive. you were a great addition to the bau and he admired your work ethic a lot, the day you walked into the bullpen wearing a fitted pantsuit had his own pants growing real tight. he still remembers when you introduced yourself and he couldn’t even get up without exposing himself. you thankfully didn’t think it was weird, and spencer was relieved when it was finally time to go home. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have nights where he wished you were the one finishing him off and not his rough hands. he didn’t think you’d like someone like him, and took all of your ‘advances’ as morgan calls them, as acts of kindness.
morgan laughs as he watches spencer’s iq deteriorate to below 50 staring at you, “do you what you gotta do man. but you better be going home with someone tonight okay?”
spencer nods and nurses his drink a bit and looks back to morgan to realize he’s already off dancing with some girls in the corner. damn.
after your distanced encounter with spencer, you decide it’s time to move on and have some fun on your own. you couldn’t be hung up on him anymore, at least not tonight. tonight was for bad decisions.
good thing bad decision walked up to you asking to dance, whatshisname leads you to the dance floor and puts his hands on your hips, swaying to the beats of t-pain and pitbull.
you didn’t know, but spencer was watching every move you made. he watched you get led to the dance floor, the way he placed his hands right on your ass and squeezed, and how he turned you around so you were dancing on his front with your back. he gripped his glass so tight the bartender had to tell him he’d have to pay if it breaks.
he gets it, you’re attractive. this is the kind of thing that happens to people who look like you. who wouldn’t want you? but then he watched it happen a second time. and a third. and a fourth and fifth, till he just stopped counting at nine for his sanity.
spencer was not used to the green monster taking over him, but oh god was he fucking seething with jealousy.
you realized spencer was watching you by whatshisname number five. he hadn’t moved from his spot and he was constantly staring in your direction. deciding to do a little experiment, you played up your dancing a lot more, acting more flirtatious, dragging the guy’s hands further down, and letting out open mouthed moans that you knew spencer couldn’t hear but could definitely see. you watched as his jaw shifted and his knuckles turned white as you danced with each guy, realizing the growing effect that you now had on him.
by whatshisname number nine, you casted your hook. making sure to face spencer and meet his eyes, you watched as they darkened when he realized you were looking right at him. spencer might’ve brushed it off as a coincidence, but then you winked at him. and he realized what you were doing—you were taunting him, and fuck was it working for him. the bulge in his pants grew uncomfortable that he had to stand up to not draw so much attention to it under the bar lights. 
you watched him stand up and adjust himself and you threw your line. when he looked back up at you, you made a come here motion with your index finger and a bite of your lip. spencer’s eyes darkened impossibly more, he paid for his tab and strode over to you.
sinker.
he pulled you from the man behind you, who muttered a ‘what the fuck’ and moved away. spencer pulled you flush to his chest and with a low voice in the crest of your ear he whispered, “what do you think you’re doing?”
“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about dr. reid, could you explain it to me?”
spencer tightens his hold on you and ghosts over your ear once more, “this is a dangerous game you’re playing, sweetheart.”
“a game you joined the second you walked over here.”
he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and matched the small smirk on your lips. game on.
the song changed to something with a more sultry beat, and you used the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck and let his hands guide your hips to the music. while he wasn’t much of a dancer, he could definitely keep a beat. it didn’t prove to be so difficult when your chest was pushing up on his own that he was just waiting for them to spill out. he realized he could feel your hardened nipples through your slip, the nubs rubbing friction through the fabric of their clothes. he moaned internally while he gripped your hips to pull you even closer. it was clear spencer seemed to be getting comfortable with moving your body and holding you close, but you couldn’t let that happen.
before the second chorus you turn around in his arms so your back is pressed up against his front, and you start dancing on him.
spencer’s taken by surprise, something you felt when his hands faltered the confident rhythm it kept up, and while he watched you dance just like this with all those guys it’s like his mind is blank now.
you recognize the song playing, collide by justine skye & tyga, and use the sultry beat to your advantage. you move your ass hard on his front, feeling his length pressed between your cheeks. you gesture for him to lean his head down and he lets out a low groan as you whisper in his ear, “all that for me?”.
a primal instinct starts to take over spencer’s being, and he grips your hips to meet his rutting from behind. spencer was desperate for any friction that could soothe the growing ache in his pants. you grinned as you felt take what he needed from you. it was quickly wiped off your face when you felt his hands inching dangerously close to where you really wanted him.  you place your hands on his with surprise and look at him, “what are you doing?”
“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he threw back at you, “but if there’s something you’d like me to do, i’m all ears.” spencer grazes his fingers under the hem of your dress, toying with the lace band of your panties and slipping his fingers below it to stroke your inner thighs.
fuck. he turned it on you so fast it almost gave you whiplash. the provocative dancing was something you could handle, hell everyone on that dance floor was doing the same thing as you both. what you weren’t sure you could handle was him about to touch you in a public space. but, your body betrayed you as it turned you on to another plane. you look up at him with lust filled eyes and let out a breathy moan of his name. spencer collapses internally and stands his ground, “if you want something, beg me.”
spencer thinks he’s won the upper hand, and he’s feeling so smug behind you. he still thinks he has the upper hand until you reach down and place his middle and index finger in your mouth, circling your tongue around the digits.
“touch me.” you moan out, releasing his fingers.
spencer is dumbfounded how he’s the one about to burst out his pants when he made you beg for him. it should make him feel embarrassed at how close he was, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. not when you in his arms pleading him to do something. you sounded so pretty, and who was he to deny a pretty thing like you?
his fingers continue their journey down, outlining the lace trim resting on your thighs. he hooks his fingers on the fabric to pull it aside and slips into you, going at an aching pace to gather the wetness and groaning out, “jesus, you’re so wet, was this all for me? you needed my attention that bad, baby?”
you whimper and grip his hand even tighter because you’re not sure if your legs are holding out any longer. it’s all so overwhelming—having his hands down your panties in the middle of the dance floor, the lewdity of the noises in your ear, the hard length pressing desperately on your ass. this is all you’ve ever wanted from him, to want you. and now it’s happening, and your brain can’t fire the neurons fast enough to process the moment. instead your body responded with your skin heating up with anticipation, heart beating out as much adrenaline to keep up. the daze is getting foggier by the second as he trails his fingers up and down your slit, spreading the wetness and circling your clit on the way up. and you think you’re about to get accustomed to the pace he’s set, when he delves between your folds and you moan out loud so abruptly that the nearby patrons looked around wondering where it came from.
you can feel spencer’s shit eating grin behind you as he moves his head down to leave love bites on your neck. if he can feel your bluff dissipating, he’s not saying anything. his fingers set a painfully slow rhythm, and you grind down trying to get any more friction to reach your peak. he’s hitting you in all the right spots that make you see the stars and beyond, leaning your head back on his chest as you barrel towards your climax. you feel yourself mere seconds away from reaching, and spencer suddenly pulls his fingers out, making you whine out in protest, “wh- what are you doing?”
spencer grabs your wrist and starts dragging you through the sweaty bodies surrounding you, tightening his grip with a small smirk as he passes a few of the guys you were dancing with earlier. suckers.
he pushes the doors open with a force and while the cool air is attempting to return your body to homeostasis, the anticipation of where he’s going overtakes you, “spence, where are we going wh-“ you cut off your sentence with a gasp as he handles you flush to the door of his car. then it’s just silence for a few moments. no loud bass or weird dudes, just the two of you. the only sound that can be heard are your breaths competing for prominence. you look up at him and focus on the details of his face illuminated by the moonlight, trying to read his expression. his honeyed eyes have fully darkened to a lustful hickory, and suddenly you felt like a gazelle being preyed on by a lion.
he reaches into his pocket and unlocks the car with a soft beep. it’s the focused eyes on you that drive you to open the door, but it’s the subtle silent nod of his head towards the car that makes you move inside waiting for him to join you. he climbs in after you, shutting the door and locking it.
spencer moves to the middle seat and allows his legs to spread open, he taps his thighs and faintly says, “come here.”
you shuffle closer and swing your legs over him, your dress rising up a little as you fully sit on his clothed crotch. and now you realize the corporeality of the moment. it’s like, really real now. all this time pining after the boy genius with no luck and now he’s got you in the backseat of his car and your panties crooked, waiting for you to move. the bravado you wore and so tightly held onto for a majority of the night comes crashing down like a shattered vase, and you’re not sure if you have any more in you to salvage the pieces. you may be a profiler, but try as you might you are not a mind reader, yet you so desperately want to know what he’s thinking. is it too much to ask what this means? will it overwhelm him to say you’ve dreamt about this moment for many nights, and how those dreams went on till the early morning when he’d stay and brush your hair back with a temple kiss. the whispers of sweet nothings sticking to you like honey as you got ready for the day. are these questions you even want to know the answer to?
you may not be a mind reader, but he is dr. spencer reid, who noticed your demeanor change after too long of a silence.
“hey,” he holds your chin delicately to your eyes, “it’s okay if you want to stop, i’m sorry for tak-“
it’s your turn to cut him off, “no! no i, i still want this, i just,” you falter.
“just what, baby?” he coos softly.
it makes tears well up in your eyes, you hope he can’t see them, “i’ve just wanted this for so long, and it’s probably embarrassing that i’m admitting this now of all times, but i don’t know if i can handle this meaning more to me than it does to you.” you confess quietly.
spencer listens to your admission and gingerly resecures his arm behind you, a position he thinks is starting to become second nature. he rubs soft shapes into the small of your back, “what makes you think that?”
“because i basically threw myself at you tonight, and it seems to be the first time you noticed me.” you say halfheartedly. 
“you think i don’t notice you?” he whispers, leaning in to leave soft kisses in the crook of your neck. spencer is dumbfounded, confused at how you reached such a conclusion. but as a man of science, he feels there’s only one way to prove himself. he breathes your name out, “can i show you how much i notice you? please?”
you nod, at least you could commit this moment to memory if it was all you’d have left of him. he presses his lips to yours for the first time that night, your breath faltering as he becomes more feverous with his attacks. slotting his tongue with yours, your hands move up to his silky hair to take purchase in. he lets out a groan as he pulls back from you, “i need to taste you.”
he guides your body to lean back on the center console, the only way his tall figure would be able to accommodate this position. your legs are still split on either side of his legs, using your hands to prop yourself up to watch his movements. he hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties and slowly slides them down, moaning at the way your slick causes resistance as he pulls them off your legs. wrapping his arms under your thighs to lift you up to face level, he places small kisses on your inner thighs as he makes his way to your core. he places a final kiss on your center before licking a long stripe up to your clit. moaning out wantonly, he continues his ministrations and kitten licks all over you, circling back up to your clit after each round.
“spence..” you whine out. he moves his focus to your clit, circling and sucking till you’re squirming in his arms so much has to grip your thighs. your hands are fussing through his hair, gripping and pulling to find something to ground you. spencer then slips his fingers into your core for the second time tonight, and you lose it.
he’s pumping his fingers in and out, that all you can hear is the squelching noises of your cunt. adding another one, you’re unable to stay still anymore, as if you were before.
“oh my fuck, spencer. i’m gonna cu-, cum. please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” you moan out filthy.
spencer unlatches his mouth for a moment, “come for me, baby.”
your orgasm crashes down on you like a wave breaking on the shore. it’s all consuming, leaving you shaking and breathless and he lifts his head from between your legs and you see his chin glistening with you in the moonlight. the sight itself is so pornographic, you can’t help but shuffle back onto his lap to crash your lips back to his, tasting yourself on his tongue. he tangles his hands in your hair as you move yours between you both, unzipping his trousers to palm him through his boxers.
he breakily moans in your ear as you slowly pull back the band to take him out. the sight takes you by surprise, you knew he was big, you felt it on your ass while you were dancing. but seeing how it compared to your hand had you bulging your eyes.
“you’re so big,” you whisper. how the hell was that fitting inside of you?
spencer the mind reader places his hand on top of yours as you lazily stroke him, “we’ll go slow, don’t worry.” he can’t help but feel his ego inflate to the skies, he can’t remember the last time he had someone look intimidated by him.
nodding faintly, you gather the spit in your mouth and let it fall between you both to land on the flushed pink tip. you spread it up and down his length, setting a slow pace that had him moaning expletives in your ear.
“oh-, ohhh, fuck baby. you’re so good at that holy shit,” he says trying to hold himself together. you give him a few more pumps before lifting your hips up to guide him inside you. you move his tip to your entrance, rubbing it teasingly before spencer places his hands on your sides to stabilize you, and slowly sink you down onto him.
the second his tip pushes past your folds, you both moan out in harmony. placing your hands on his shoulders you leverage yourself to sink down further inch by inch, until your core is flush with the base of his thighs.
spencer is a man of many words, maybe too many. but right now the only word he can remember is your name as he watched you take his length whole inch by inch slowly losing any restraint he had left. the pressure his cock had inside of you was heavenly. you’d never felt so full, and you could tell he was trying so hard to stay still as you adjusted above him.
when you bottom out spencer throws his head back against the seat, “oh that’s it, good girl,” you clenched around him. “you okay?”
you nod in response, ignoring the way the term of endearment sent flutters to your heart, and attempt an experimental rock of your hips, causing spencer’s head to whip up and meet your lust blown eyes with his own. he adjusts his hands on the sides of your thighs and starts helping you move up and down on his length, setting a brutally slow pace.
you rest your head and moan into the crook of his neck as he continues his movements, “spencer, please, more, i can take it.”
he still can’t believe what’s happening right now, all those days he spent thinking about you in the bullpen, at home, everywhere really, and here you were begging on top of him to fuck you good.
“you still think i don’t notice you?” he says into your ear, “i have dreamt about what you’d look like bouncing on my cock, and you are blowing any idea i had out of the water.”
you whimper as he continues, “and when i’m not thinking about ruining you, i am in awe at how you walk through life. you bring so much joy everywhere you go, it’s a blessing to be able to experience you.” he says through shaky breaths.
the praise goes straight to core, with some traveling to your heart again, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold on before you unravel physically and emotionally.
his hands are guiding you up and down at a harder pace now, “so,” thrust. “you still think,” thrust, “i don’t notice you?” he thrusts into you once more and holds you down, making sure you’re looking directly at him, “it was never an option to brush past you, you are everything to me. i didn’t know how to show that without overwhelming you. i’m sorry.”
tears well up in your eyes again, spencer notices this time and presses a small kiss on your forehead. all your senses feel like they’re in overdrive, unable to comprehend anything right now. your skin feels like it’s on fire as he rolls your hips faster to meet his ruts.
“spence, i- i’m so close.” you whine desperately. 
he slips his hand between you both to rub your clit, “i know baby, i’ve got you. let go for me.”
his words were enough to break the dam, your second climax of the night hurling towards you. the white hot feeling overtook your whole body, shaking and clenching above him. your grip on him was threateningly vicious, probably leaving deep crescent marks in the nape of his shoulders. you wish the euphoria would last forever if it meant having spencer like this. as you came down from your high, the two of you were still moving together, slowly rocking your hips to meet each other. once you were grounded again, you pushed through the sensitivity in your core to rise up on his length, just barely leaving the tip in before you slid back down fast and hard, now focusing on spencer reaching his peak.
“oh jesus, fuck.” spencer moaned out brokenly.
“come on spence you can do it,” you taunted as you clenched down, “come inside me, make a mess of me please.” a rush of confidence flowed through as you whispered into his ear, and spencer held your hips to help you bounce faster on him.
spencer let out a loud groan as you felt the hot spurts coat your insides, he was leaving matching crescent marks on the sides of your hips as the ones on his shoulders, making sure all of him was left in you. feeling him soften inside, you remained on his lap with him sheathed in you. you both are breathing heavily, leaning back to hopefully give you both some relief from the sex filled air. looking around the car you realize that all the windows are fogged up and let out a tiny giggle.
“what’s so funny?” he looks up at you slightly amused and very out of breath.
“no it’s just, the windows are such a dead giveaway for what we just did in here.” 
“eh, i don’t really care what people think.”
“gasp, dr. reid wants to let the world know he has car sex with random girls?”
he leans in to bite your neck playfully, “random? did nothing i said during all that register for you?”
you yelp and attempt to play dumb, “actually i don’t remember a word, you might have to jog my memory. maybe even recreate the circumstances to help with cementing it. i read about situational memorization where certain scenarios are easily remembered when there’s a big event to anchor it to.”
he swears he could’ve melted on the spot at you explaining a concept you’d read about to him, “careful sweetheart, calling it a big event might inflate my ego a little too high.”
“i mean, i can tell it worked,” you tease as you feel him harden inside of you again, “so tell me genius, how many times does a scenario have to happen for me to remember the information?”
“i guess we’ll have to find out, don’t we?”
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kinichval · 4 months ago
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seatmate!kinich isn't someone you would call a top achiever, sure, he will put in effort when necessary—but he's not the type of student to chug down five cups of coffee for an all-nighter. despite his self-perception that he's just being the bare minimum of a student, his grades prove that he's a well-performing student in their class. hence, he frequently finds himself being the target of everyone's thirst to pass a course.
"hey, kinich. can you help me with this task?"
"kinich, are you busy? i was wondering if you could teach me this lesson."
"kinich, can i copy your homework?"
it's bothersome to deal with a flood of desperate students half of the week, but kinich puts up with their needs as he gets paid in return. no discounts, no installments. that's malipo kinich for ya. (except he doesn't allow copying his homework, better luck next life.)
some students do it for free, why do they flock to kinich?
right, because the top performing student in class, also known as you, straight up refuses to be of help. not entirely being selfish, you would share files and resources to the class when the professor fails to provide sufficient materials and you would point out corrections when the majority makes the same mistake.
or maybe they just have a huge fat crush on kinich.
well, the sheer fact that your seatmate, kinich, is their first choice when an academic predicament bestows on them allows you to slip away from the scene and find yourself getting comfortable somewhere in the library.
(now you are the type to pull all-nighters and, make an effort to create comprehensible and visual-learner friendly lecture notes.)
there are also times when kinich is also clueless, rendering his help useless because he genuinely can't provide an answer nor explanation. he's just human, too, just like them.
just like you.
it doesn't escape his peripheral sight how you quickly stand up the moment a few classmates gather around kinich after class dismisses. he can't conclude the thoughts that run in your mind, but he's curious where you go—
"can i sit here with you?"
someone taps your earbuds to pause the music blaring in your ears, you look up to find who the culprit is with your eyes already burning holes through their forehead.
but oh—it's just... kinich?
"why?"
"just because."
you answer with a tch, lowering your head to continue studying.
"you don't understand that, right?"
oh, you hear him, you forgot to resume the music.
"i do." denial is a river.
"can you teach me?"
kinich doesn't ask for help. he believes he's capable of many things if he works hard (and smart) for it. but right now, he'll let you have a peak at his vulnerability just so he could have a glimpse of what it's like to be under your care.
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abslvr111 · 7 months ago
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police officer wife!abby anderson
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cw. wlw (men dni), smut, nipple sucking, bondage (cuffs), riding abby’s strap, no outbreak au, (slight) size kink, this comes from my love of hot female police officers 💀 also haven’t posted in a bit sry sry gotta new kitten so i’ve been busy <33 + maybe a tiny bit cringe ngl 🥱
sum. riding cop abby’s strap while she’s cuffed and you’re wearing a slutty police outfit 😖
wc. 842 (wc goes up when it abby y’all 🤞)
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you meet abby at a minor traffic stop, pure muscle under her police uniform as she walks up to your car window, you look at her in awe (expecting her to be some middle-aged dick officer— not eye candy), until you start to get bashful: remembering your pulled over by her.
you forgot to turn on your signal, she’s smirking by the time she heads back to her cruiser to run your information, and she writes you a warning— as well as her number. you can’t help but smile when you read the paper, happy to text her once you got home.
your first date goes perfectly and by the second one she has you laid out on her bed, you can remember your first time with her like it was yesterday— your memories stay vivid when abby’s in them.
you fall into a nice routine with her, waking up to her big arms around your waist, hugging you close from behind, warm lips pressing soft kisses to your neck as you blink sleep from your eyes.
you’ll watch her get ready as you slowly wake up, eyeing her as she puts on her blue uniform, smirking at the cuffs on her belt, you eventually get up to start your morning routine with her.
she teaches you how to shoot a gun, her front pressed up against your back as she holds your smaller hands in her bigger ones, she helps you aim the firearm, and your fingers touch, wedding bands clashing together, abby loves every second of your shared target practice.
abby thinks it’s cute, this is the first time you’ve put on a costume for her, lingerie, sure. but not this, you’re dressed in a slutty cop uniform— if you could even call it that (the only cop aspect being your blue hat), dark blue bra showing off your tits matching lace thong clinging to your hips, and showing off your figure nicely. black fishnets go up your legs, they look good against your thighs she thinks, sharp heels ready to be kicked off are on your feet, and a pair of fuzzy black handcuffs in your right grasp complete your outfit.
she’s used cuffs on you before, but never have you used them on her, she can’t help but smirk from her place on the bed, amused by what you have planned.
“is something funny ma'am?” you say, tone authoritative as you make your way to her.
“not at all officer,” she says teasingly, playing along with your game.
“are you sure? because i think you need to be cuffed.” you’re holding the fuzzy cuffs up to her eye level now, you continue, “and punished.” your stance is almost dominant but abby’s still almost taller than you even sitting on the bed, it’s adorable in her eyes.
she puts her hands out in front of her, complacent as you slip the soft loops around her wrists. when you’re done she lets her hands drop to her lap, making herself comfortable sitting at the edge of the bed.
you’re smiling cheekily as you begin to unzip her pants pulling her pants off, needy as ever you’re already straddling her lap, inches away from grinding on the strap below her boxers.
abby’s hands come up to bring both cups of your bar down, revealing your tits to her greedy eyes, her lips immediately begin sucking at your nipple, earning a whimper from you, she’s squeezing your other breast with her hand. now you’re sitting properly on her lap, grinding yourself across her cock, your fingers weave through the back of her scalp, putting minimal pressure on the back of her head.
you pull the band of her boxers down just enough for her strap to spring free, you rub your pussy over the silicon coating it with your slick, slowly, you bring the tip to your entrance, easing yourself down onto till you hit the base, moaning as you do.
abby draws away from your chest, her lips and tongue on yours as you begin bouncing yourself on her, setting a steady pace for yourself. her fingers pinch at your nipples, it makes you whine moving yourself faster on her lap, you drag your fingers to over your clit rubbing fast circles.
abby parted from your kiss, you looked so pretty above her, she felt herself get wetter by the second while she watched you, she might have to let you do this more often, watching you get yourself off on her after she gets off a long shift was nice.
she felt your thighs start to get wobbly, your orgasm approaching, the little blue hat on your head tilts to the side as your pace increases and gets rougher.
you’re grinding down on her as you cum, leaning on her as you do, you’re flipped to your back before you can catch your breath, a snap rattles in your ears as abby breaks the cheap fluffy cuffs, she’s smirking down at you, and you know you’re in for a long night.
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breadbrobin · 1 year ago
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lavender roses
luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
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[fem!daughter of persephone reader]
summary: everyone thinks red roses are synonymous with the perfect love. you believe that lavender roses deserve more love, and luke believes that you’re worthy of all the love in the world—you’re both just bad at communicating it.
warnings: kissing, swearing, suggestive content, mentions of weapons, idiots, miscommunication trope but it’s cute dw, seriously they’re both so stupid and oblivious, besties to idiots to lovers
word count: 3.3k
(y’all i’m losing my mind i can’t stop writing but this might be one of my favourites ever)
(also i might put together a luke taglist and a clarisse taglist so lmk if you wanna be put on either of those and i’ll get to work on it 🤩)
———————————————
“i’m free february fourteenth,” you said nonchalantly.
you were sitting with luke at dinner and he’d just asked you if you ever had a day off working. as a daughter of persephone, you lived in the hermes cabin, but spent most of your time working in the strawberry fields. you spent every free moment there, soaking in the sun, helping the plants grow and picking flowers to put in vases around the cabin and infirmary.
he nodded as chris choked on his food beside him, coughing hard. “okay, we should hang out then.”
you weren’t sure if he knew what was going on. was he messing with you? playing a joke? really wanting to hang out with you on valentine’s day? or was he having a lapse of memory and he forgot that day had any significance at all?
either way, you nodded. when you spoke, your voice was slightly higher pitched than usual. “sure.”
“we can have a picnic. we haven’t done that in a while.” he was nodding still, looking into his food with a thoughtful expression.
the air nearly left your lungs. you nodded back, though he wasn’t looking at you, and exchanged a wide-eyed look with chris across the table. sure, you and luke used to go for picnics occasionally, but that was before he’d gotten unfairly attractive overnight and you’d developed the most annoying crush on him. “yeah, sure. it’s a date.”
if you could have jumped into tartarus you would have.
what the fuck. why would you say that?
chris was staring at you in shock.
your mouth was dry.
and luke was smiling like nothing was wrong. were his cheeks red? or was that your imagination? “yup! it’s a date.”
when he got up from the table to leave after dinner, he kissed your cheek. this wasn’t too far out of the ordinary, per se—it happened occasionally—but it sent a rush of adrenaline shooting down your spine and set your cheeks aflame.
chris’ eyebrows were raised. “what was that?”
“i have no idea,” you breathed.
“do you think he knows?”
your voice was even softer as you shook your head. “dude. i have no idea.”
valentine’s day couldn’t come soon enough.
you could hardly think of anything else. zoning out in the fields, losing focus while sparring, getting distracted by luke’s shoulder muscles while he was drawing back his bow, sending your arrow flying off to the side.
he laughed at you with everyone else, coming over to stand by your side. “you good there? need any help?”
you shook your head, your quaking fingers drawing the string back once more, pulling it taut. archery wasn’t your best skill, but you weren’t terrible at it.
you could feel his eyes on you, judging your form, analysing your aim. it put you off.
your arrow barely hit the target.
luke winced. “that was… better.”
you sighed and lowered the bow. “you’re distracting me!”
he laughed. “i’m distracting you?”
“yes!” you huffed, frowning at him. his eyes were lit up with amusement. “you are.”
“well, then i’m very sorry.” he raised his hands and took a step back, dipping his head too. “as you were, milady.”
you rolled your eyes with a smile and drew your arrow back, aiming and firing, but it still didn’t do well. in fact, every arrow that you shot pierced outside of the black rings. you were starting to think there was either something wrong with the bow or that you’d been cursed by one of the apollo kids, when someone’s hand lowered your elbow.
you looked over to see luke. he wasn’t watching your face. he was guiding your elbow down so it was more level with your arrow’s line and gently pulling your shoulders back so they were more even.
“pull back a bit more,” he coached quietly.
“i know what i’m doing,” you protested.
“i know, but today you look like you need a reminder. do you want my help? or do you wanna keep missing?” he finally looked you in the eye. he was sincere, you realised.
you sighed and draw the arrow back a little more.
he nodded happily and continued guiding your stance until you were perfect, his hands hot on your body and his breath on the back of your neck. he stayed behind you as you lowered the arrow and took a few deep breaths.
you were still watching him over your shoulder. his lips quirked as he reached out and gently turned your face away to look at the target. his hand was calloused and rough, but the tough was soft. you could barely breathe.
“focus,” he said softly. “eyes on the prize.”
you’re the only prize i want, was all you could think, but you didn’t say anything. you drew the arrow back, your fingers brushing against the corner of your lips. you felt better—more powerful, more confident—in this stance. and maybe luke’s presence behind you was helping with that too. you could feel the slight ghost of his hand on your waist. it kept you grounded. it stopped you from floating away.
your arrow pierced just beside the bullseye.
luke’s hand tightened on your waist, squeezing proudly. “that’s my girl.”
your heart fluttered as you smiled. “thanks, luke.”
he patted your lower back as he stepped away. “that’s what i’m here for. go kill it.”
then he was gone, and there was a fiery pit in your stomach that grew with each passing day that told you that—oh shit—you were in fully love with luke castellan.
february fourteenth arrived in a flurry of pinks, reds and whites. hearts adorned the camp, courtesy of the aphrodite cabin, and you and the demeter cabin had been tasked with growing what felt like hundreds of red roses. personally, you didn’t understand the hype surrounding red roses. after all, the lavender ones were the prettiest. they even meant love at first sight—far better than plain old love.
but with all the love in the air and the aphrodite campers swooning left and right, luke was sure to figure out his mistake and call off the picnic. it made you feel sick with anxiety, and your hands shook as you tended to the roses.
“y/n, hey!” luke’s voice came right next to you.
you flinched and the rose bush sprouted ten feet in the air with new flowers springing into existence left and right.
“whoa…” he said, looking up at it in shock. “i don’t think we need that many.”
“i don’t think anyone needs that many.” you muttered and took a deep breath, bringing the bush back down to size. “what are you doing here, luke?” your heart was in your throat. he didn’t look upset, but he’d always been good at hiding his emotions. was he about to tell you that he didn’t want to meet up later? or that he hated you for tricking him? thoughts started spinning like tops in your mind as you sunk into worse scenario after worse scenario.
“i just wanted to make sure we were still on for this afternoon? and to let you know to meet me by the lake.” were you imagining things, or did he look almost… nervous? his cheeks were red and he wasn’t meeting your eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. was he? really?
you nodded. “oh, uh, yeah. we’re still on. i’ll meet you…?”
“at two?”
“at two.” you smiled. he smiled back and you ignored the flutter in your chest. a strand of hair blew in front of your face.
his hand twitched by his side, like he wanted to push it back, but he just nodded. “okay. see you later.”
“later,” you nodded as he walked away. “can’t wait!” you called after him. he shot a grin over his shoulder, and once he was gone, you buried your face in the rose bush with an exasperated groan.
at 1:45, you still didn’t know what to wear.
your friend becky had dragged you into the aphrodite cabin and was shoving various outfits into your arms to try on, since you didn’t have many nice outfits of your own, but nothing was right.
even though you were the same size as her, nothing seemed to fit you as well as it did her—some aphrodite’s daughter bullshit, you guessed.
she sat down on her bunk next to you and sighed. “i hate to say it, but… we’re out of options.”
you groaned and flopped backwards, covering your face.
she swatted your hands away. “you’ll smudge your makeup!” she then sat back and sighed. “honestly, hun, you might just have to go naked.”
“i’m sure he’d love that!” one of her brothers called from across the room.
you threw a pillow at him, but it dropped halfway there.
then becky froze with a gasp. “oh, my gods.”
you sat up. “what?”
“wait here.” she got up and dashed away, peering into the depths of her wardrobe.
you watched absently, kind of worried she’d pull out some sexy lingerie, as she felt around at the very back, in the corner. then her face lit up. she pulled out a dress. it was white and floaty, with tiny pale pink flowers on it and the most flattering neckline you’d ever seen. she held it out to you and then dragged you to the designated changing area beside her bunk.
you changed slowly, not wanting to rip the delicate material, then looked at yourself in the mirror.
holy shit.
becky stuck her head around the corner and gasped. “perfect! ugh, i feel like a proud mother.”
you laughed, smoothing the floaty fabric over your thighs. it was kind of staticky. “yeah, thanks, mom.”
she grabbed your arm and dragged you out, showing you off. “siblings! my magnum opus.”
as whistles and cheers came from the few people in the cabin, you smiled.
“he’ll love it,” becky whispered. “you look hot.”
“it’s not even a date,” you protested. “it’s just a hang out.”
“sweet cheeks, its a picnic on valentine’s day.” she tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “it’s a date. now go. you’re gonna be late.”
you slipped on your white sandals and the light green jacket you always wore, let silena slip a white headband into your hair, then stepped out the door.
it wasn’t a cold day, exactly, but you were grateful for the jacket.
you rushed down the lake and got there two minutes late.
luke was no where to be found.
great, you thought. he was messing with me the whole time.
just as you were considering leaving, you heard footsteps running up to you.
“y/n! i’m so sorry, i could figure out—oh, wow...” luke stopped in his tracks as you turned around. his eyes were wide and his cheeks were red as he looked you up and down. he cleared his throat. “i didn’t know what to wear.”
he’d settled on a navy blue crew neck sweater and black jeans. his hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he looked good. really good.
shit. that would make things more difficult.
“it’s okay,” you smiled. “neither could i.”
“well, you look… you look amazing.” his voice was soft, almost reverent.
gods, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop blushing. this was torture. “thanks,” you said though, pretending your heart wasn’t climbing up your throat and threatening to jump right into his hands—like suicide. “should we—“
“oh! yeah.” he nodded and stepped forward, placing a hand on your back (just low enough that it made your heart stutter, but high enough that it was innocent) and leading you towards the strawberry fields. “this way, milady.”
your heart was sinking a little as the fields came into view. everyone went to the strawberry fields. there were at least seven couples there already. it was the standard date spot. you had to remind yourself this wasn’t a date.
but he led you past the fields and into the forest.
great, so he’ll just murder me instead, you thought bitterly. it was like you were searching for a reason that it wasn’t a date now. at least i won’t have to deal with the embarrassment of everyone seeing.
you snapped out of your thoughts as his hand gently slipped into yours and you nearly fell over. he looked back at you, amused. you shot him a thumbs up as he set down a familiar path.
you knew where you were going.
there was a clearing in the woods where you went. it was you own personal secret garden, hidden deep in the forest behind a thick hedge that you’d grown yourself. it had taken weeks to get it thick enough to keep your space safe, and weeks again to regain enough strength to add any other plants to it. in the last year though, you’d been going there often, coaxing a few new plants to grow. you’d learned that forcing growth was hard and near impossible, but encouraging growth was easy.
you’d shown luke the garden one day a few months ago, just before you developed that pesky crush.
he pulled you gently in front of him to enter the garden first, through a magically shifting gap in the hedge, so that he could enter too, and stepped aside to pick up a hefty bag hidden just off the path.
you stepped through the hedge, your hand still linked with luke’s, and into your garden. it was the same as last time you were there, around a week ago; filled with flowers and bees, with a patch of clear grass in the middle, linked to the hedge by four paths, running north to south and east to west. some of the flowers growing were out of season, but as a daughter of persephone, you had a certain level of influence over things like that. bees buzzed lazily around your head as you entered, happy to see you again. everything seemed to get happier, healthier and brighter the second you stepped into the garden. it was your favourite thing and your favourite place.
you looked back at luke to see him smiling at you. “you know me too well.”
“i knew you wouldn’t like to have everyone around,” he shrugged. “and i wanted to see this place again. it’s better than last time i was here.” he looked around in wonder.
“well, last time you were here, i’d just gotten over the flu, so i was still pretty weak. all of my hydrangeas wilted.” you pouted and crossed the garden to your hydrangea bush, blooming in all ranges of colours. soil acidity and pH didn’t matter if you were the daughter of persephone.
luke laid down a plaid picnic blanket as you murmured a few words to some of your weaker looking plants, breathing life back into them. you could feel his eyes on you as he sat and waited, but you didn’t feel rushed or observed. more than anything, you felt admired.
finally, you sat next to him. he’d set out some food and water bottles for the two of you. he was prepared. that was one thing about luke castellan: he was prepared, always two steps ahead. which is why this didn’t make sense.
as you started eating, you found yourself staring at a lavender rose bush. love at first sight, you mused. if only.
you’d fallen for luke after a whole year of friendship. that made it worse. you’d loved him already, platonically, then, without warning, those feeling shifted. the way you looked at him changed in a matter of moments. when he’d gotten cherries on his plate for dessert after you were told you couldn’t have more, then he’d given them all to you, claiming he didn’t like them (even though you knew he did), you fell stupidly, irrevocably, in love. but the way he looked at you never changed: always soft, always kind and always the same.
you were drawn to look at him. you always were. the sharp lines and soft curves of his face. those dark eyes that made your heart flutter never wavered as they met yours. never shifted, never darkened, never clouded with anger. never. they were as constant as time, as reliable as the tide, as predictable as the full moon coming around again.
and he was looking at you now. “what?” he asked.
you blinked and looked away, watching as two bees clumsily bumped into each other and went on their way. “nothing.” would that be you and luke? two bees bumping into each other briefly, then going on with their lives? unlikely to cross paths again? you couldn’t let that happen.
“you know it’s valentine’s, right?” you asked before you could stop yourself.
luke lowered his apple, resting his hand on his knee. his forehead was creased in a confused frown. “yeah, why?”
“well… then why… why are we hanging out today? i mean, this isn’t a date.” you paused. “is it?”
his eyes widened. “wait, you don’t think—“
“it’s fine, luke.” you shrugged, pretending your heart wasn’t crumbling. “it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have brought up valentines. it was a silly joke, and—“
“a joke?” he frowned again. “this isn’t a joke.”
you looked at him. he looked earnest. “what?”
“it’s not a joke. why would i joke about going on a date with you?” he swallowed tightly and put his apple down. “did you… did you just think it was a joke?”
“no! well, yes. but i didn’t want it to be.” you exclaimed. “did… you want it to be?”
“no!” he exclaimed, turning to face you. “why would i want that? i thought we’ve been dating for three weeks now!”
“you, what?”
he took a deep breath. “you’re telling me that i’ve been assuming we’re dating for three weeks, and you’ve been assuming i’ve been joking for three weeks, because we’re both a little bit fucking stupid and can’t communicate our feelings properly?”
you stared at him, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress. the static crackled like the tension in the air. “i guess so.”
“huh.” he said, turning back to face the flowers. he was silent for a moment and you almost thought he’d leave, but then he started laughing.
“stop laughing,” you protested, pushing him lightly, your cheeks flaming hot. “stop it.”
he didn’t.
soon, you weren’t able to stop yourself from giggling, then you were both laughing uncontrollably. your stomach hurt and you had to lean on each other to avoid falling over. your faces were close—too close. your laughter died as you felt his breath on your face. his fingers brushed your hair behind your ear. his breath hitched as he did, like he’d been waiting to do that for months.
“i’ve liked you for months,” you whispered.
“i’ve liked you since the moment we met,” he cupped your face in his hand, his other one resting on your knee.
you could see the lavender roses behind him. love at first sight.
the two bees that had bumped into each other settled on the same flower.
fucking hell.
you kissed him before you could talk yourself out of it.
the kiss wasn’t like fireworks. it was more like the first flowers of spring: fresh, exciting and pure. his lips were soft. yours were probably rougher than his from your long hours in the fields. you figured he didn’t care, because he kissed you like you were the only air he needed to breath for the rest of his life. you could feel flowers blooming around the picnic blanket—daisies and dandelions in the grass. the plants in the gardens were going wild. he was like a drug; some kind of amplifier for your powers and your heart rate and gods, you never wanted to let him go. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him. your hand rose to his cheek and static electricity jumped from your skin to his.
he pulled away with a gasp, his hand on his cheek. then he laughed, and kissed you again.
and again.
and again.
and again.
and you were infinitely glad for the privacy of your own secret garden.
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luvrxbunny · 1 year ago
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flower
pairing: bf!Miguel O’Hara x f!reader
summary: You won’t let Miggy play.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, sad feelings, clothed sex, cum in pants (lmk if I forgot anything)
wc: 2.2k
a/n: Gwen is 21 just for drinking purposes— everyone say thank u to @naeverse for giving me an alternative to google translate for the spanish!! ily bby!! 🫶🏾
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Miguel is like your best artwork, in your opinion. The way you took the hard seed he was and watered, loved, cared and nurtured him so he could bloom into the flower he was today is one of your greatest achievements. 
When you met him he was cold, closed off, and angry. It took months of breaking down his wall before he could even admit his feelings for you, it took even more, to get him to express his feelings for you. It was like luring a stray cat, slowly getting him closer, and more comfortable with you before pushing your physical feelings onto him. You coaxed him out of his cave of isolation, of touch deprivation, and showed him how it felt to have someone love on him. 
You were so proud when he started coming to you for simple little things, like a kiss or a hug. You’d be working and he’d stride in, tall and confident just to ask you, shyly, for a kiss. For a long time you explained to him that he didn’t always need to ask you, you were okay with him just coming in and kissing you. You also had to explain to him that he’s allowed to ask for more than a hug or kiss, he was very resistant on that matter but you managed to break him. 
One day he woke up in the middle of the night, you were asleep next to him and he needed you. He laid there for an hour, debating on whether he should wake you up or not. When he did wake you up, you couldn’t have been prouder. You made sure to let him know that as you rode him. 
At first, he wouldn’t even hold your hand or hug you in public. He got comfortable with PDA much quicker than the others, it only took him a few weeks. He plunged himself into it head first.
He went from barely touching you to being all over you. He started sitting you in his lap, resting his arms over your hips while standing behind you, or laying his head on your stomach whenever you guys were chilling in the lounge.
He even got into the habit of running his fingers over your tummy, going under your shirt or dissipating your suit just to feel you. Or he’ll just grope you through your suit, it doesn’t alway seem sexual for him… more like he enjoys the closeness, the intimacy of touching you, holding you in places no one else can. For example; your boobs, your ass, and his most recent, most consistent obsession… your pussy.. just cupping, your clothed pussy.
He says it’s calming for him, most of the time he does it absently. The goal isn't to make you cum, or prep your for his cock. He just loves touching you. It made you unbelievably happy to see him like that, your secretly sweet boy, loving all over you, not caring who’s around. It was one of the best things to ever happen to you.
Which is what makes this current conversation so awkward. 
Hobie is rambling on and on about how disgusting PDA is. Miguel isn't around, thank god. He went to get a drink and never came back. Hobie has been ranting about how inconsiderate, and inappropriate PDA is as you awkwardly sip on your drink, feeling oddly targeted. Jess and Gwen agree with him, saying that it’s not that serious but definitely annoying. You’re just wishing for them all to just stop before Miguel returns, terrified that he’ll retreat back into his shell. That you’ll loose your sweet flower.
“ ‘M jus sayin’ it’s not like they can’t wait ‘til they get ‘ome. I jus feel like… come off it, y’know? Like you’re in public, right? Jus... keep it in your pants.” You down your drink and decide to finally butt into the conversation. 
“Hobie. I love you but you’re the same guy who doesn’t believe in consistency.” You earn a little chuckle from the table. “Get in a loving, serious, consistent relationship, and tell me you’ll never want to be affectionate outside your house.” The words spit from your mouth with more venom than intended but you stand your ground. 
“Aye, I guess. But like, some people don’t know when to dial it back.” He laughs with Gwen as you get up to leave. Jess is sending you an apologetic look that you smile at briefly before turning to walk away. You’re stopped by a.. wall? 
You open your eyes to see what you ran into and see Miguel smiling down at you. “Where are you going?” You smile back at him, genuinely, and tell him a half-truth. “I was looking for you! Where have you been?”
Miguel looks a little drunk, his face flushed, and his eyes hazy. You guys have been drinking but it usually takes more. He shrugs and sits in your seat, patting his leg for you to sit in his lap.
You start toward him but then Hobie’s words play in your head and you shake your head softly at him. He looks confused but nods at you and falls into the conversation, now talking about the latest mission. 
You’re standing there considering Hobie’s words. If you imagine how you and Miguel act from an outsider's perspective… you can see why they’d find it annoying. Anxiety curls and makes a home in your chest as you flip through all your favorite memories of you and Miguel, all of them now tainted. You head over to the bar silently, needing another drink when you feel someone behind you. 
You feel pressure on the top of your head and know it's Miguel, placing a kiss on your head, another recent habit of his. You do nothing, ignore it as he wraps his arms around your waist and leans into you. “Oh, Peter B. says Hello. He was here earlier for a bit. That’s what took me so long. He made me drink with him too. Puede que haya bebido mucho.” 
(“I may have had too much to drink”)
A smile makes its way onto your face as you listen to him, his accent thicker with his intoxication. He’s leaning on you, not for support but just to feel you against him. You guys stand there in comfortable silence until you feel Miguel’s hand begin to slide from your hip to your pelvis, it slides underneath the band of your skirt and you stop him. “Not now, Miggy. Sorry.” Your drink arrives, you pay, and leave. Miguel follows behind you, slightly deflated by your rejection. Your mind is still on Hobie’s words. 
Are we “too much”? Do we take it “too far”..? Maybe we should just dial it back a little... 
You guys arrive back at the table and Miguel tries again. His hands come to your waist and quickly slide down, trying to get under your skirt. You don’t say anything, you keep talking to Gwen as you pull his hand out.
The night goes well from that point. Miguel makes more advances that are gently rejected or avoided by you. You all gradually get drunk as the night goes on, Miguel drinks a bit more than he usually would and recluses himself to a table next to where you guys are sitting. Jess leaves first, Gwen and Hobie following her not too long after.
You and Miguel decide to leave and Uber home in silence. He usually talks more after hanging out in a group, saying everything he thought but couldn't say, giving his rating on the interaction, and more. This time, however, he’s silent, looking out his window with furrowed brows the whole ride. The silence only breaks once you both are in the apartment and you speak up. 
“Why are you so quiet tonight?” You’re staring at his back as he stands in the living room. He doesn’t answer you at first, he just stands there before sighing and turning around. 
“Why won’t you let me play with you?” His voice is weaker than you’ve ever heard it, his eyes look sad and desperate and his hands are wringing each other. You’ve never seen him like this, nervous and unsure. It breaks your heart. 
You rush over to him and wrap him in a hug. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted to that bad, baby.” You let him go and kiss his cheek. “I—“ You sigh defeatedly. “Hobie got in my head about PDA. I don’t know why I listen to him.” Miguel lets out a sigh of relief at your words, some of the tension leaving his body. 
“That idiot? Yeah, no. Don’t listen to him, amor.” You smile at him and he kisses you softly. When you pull away he still has that nervous look in his eyes. “Do you wanna play with me now?” you ask gently. He nods so timidly that you regret ever rejecting him. You kiss him with a smile as he walks you backward, only stopping once your back hits the wall.
His breath is already speeding up, his chest heaving as his hand slowly slides up your skirt. The moment his fingers come in contact with your clothed pussy he groans out, louder than you. You’re shocked by his reaction as he keeps rubbing your clit, gasping, and moaning with you as if he was touching himself. 
His mouth is open as moans tumble through his lips. He’s not looking at you, just watching his fingers move on your pussy. His eyebrows draw more inward the faster he moves his fingers, his moans turning into whines the faster he goes. 
At some point, his fingers roll over your clit more perfectly than you can handle and your hips buck into his hands. His knees almost buckle at the sight as he lets out a deep, rumbling groan. 
“Santa mierda.” His eyes roll back as he feels your wetness soak through your panties and dampen his fingers. He’s desperately hard in his pants and his hips are thrusting up into the air in time with his movements over your pussy. “Echaba mucho de menos esto, cariño”
(“Holy shit.”)
( “I missed this so much honey”)
You giggle at his apology. He tends to do this a lot when you have him extra worked up. He always feels bad because he knows you can't understand him but the truth is that when he gets you like this… Whining, moaning, and pressing into him.
He cannot function.
He can’t think about anything but breeding you, getting his fat cock into your soft pussy, and painting your cervix. He’s not worried about what language it happens in. His brain can’t focus on things like that, he’s tried.
Your hips thrust up into his hand as you grip his biceps, your nails digging in painfully, making him moan even louder. His fingers move against you perfectly, the Spanish falling from his lips pulls you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your legs start to twitch and tense, your knees weakening as the burning in your stomach grows. Your hands come up around Miguel’s neck to pull him closer to you. 
“You’re making me feel so good, Miggy. Fuck- I love you so much, baby.” He lifts you off your feet, pressing you up against the wall and lifting your legs over his waist. He takes a step forward and buries himself in your neck, his hips come forward, pressing his bulge against your mound with a groan. “Yeah, good. Good, Miggy- shi-it.” You feel his fangs slide out of his mouth and press into your skin as he whimpers. “Holy- Miguel, I- fuck, like that baby please.” 
His whines turn to groans as he thrusts against you like he was actually fucking you. His hips swivel into yours, stuttering as he listens to your moans. “N-nena, estoy tan cerca. Maldita sea, te sientes tan jodidamente bien, mi amor. Siento que no puedo respirar. Mierda, te sientes increíble.” 
(“B-baby, I'm so close. Damn, you feel so fucking good, my love. I feel like I can't breathe. Shit, you feel amazing.”)
You moan louder at his words, the way they roll off of his tongue. You can’t even describe how you feel when he speaks, especially in Spanish. It feels like his words vibrate through your ears, to your stomach, and settle in your core, winding you up as tightly as you can go. “Yeah? Oh, I’m gonna c-cum. Fuck- talk to me, Miggy. T-tell me how it feels, honey.”
Miguel can feel his eyes roll back into his head at your words. You know he can’t speak English right now, and he knows you love it anyway, the thought has him hurtling toward his orgasm. “Te sientes tan perfecta, nena. Voy a correrme tan fuerte por ti. ¿Lo quieres? ¿Quieres que te dé mi leche, miel? Te lo daré, todo por ti, nena. Mierda.” 
(“You feel so perfect, baby. I'm gonna cum so hard for you. Do you want it? Do you want me to give you my milk honey? I'll give it to you, all for you, baby. Shit.")
Your legs crush his waist as you cum, trembling in his arms as his hips keep fucking against you, his moans growing in volume. You bring your hands up to dive into his hair, pulling at it, gripping it as he growls into your neck. He’s trying to hold off until you’re done, he wants to keep going, he wants to make you cum for so long that you can’t breathe but the way you’re grasping his brown locks makes it impossible. His muscles tense, his hands squeezing you into a bruising hold as his groans devolve back into whines, his body shaking as his cock explodes. 
He cums so hard he thinks he blacks out for a moment. His cock pumps out rope after rope of his cum into his pants, he wishes it was inside you for a moment and he’s cumming harder at the thought. His hips continue to buck into you desperately as he moans out your name. You feel one of his hands leave your waist and rest on your cheek shakily, pushing your head in his direction and placing a kiss on your cheek. He grunts as he bucks against you one more time before putting you down. 
You knees give out the moment you touch the ground and Miguel holds you up with a chuckle. “¿Qué? ¿No puedes soportarlo, cariño? ¿Tus piernas ya no funcionan?” He teases you as he carries you to the bedroom, your head rests on his chest, feeling the vibrations as he speaks. 
(“What? You can't stand, honey? Your legs don't work anymore?”)
“You better hush up before I fuck you.” You spit back at him jokingly but you feel his pace falter at the threat. 
“Uh, Qué... ¿Cuál es el dicho? Don’t threaten me with a good time?” He says in a teasing tone but his eyes are already clouding over again, desperate. 
(“what... what's the saying?”)
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thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!
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spacegyaru · 21 days ago
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it's almost 3 am in my country, but i have a fanfic idea for kaiser... i need to let it out;;
EDITED: HERE'S THE PART TWO SINCE YALL WANT IT (minors dont read pt 2 pls)
cw: michael kaiser x afab! reader | all charscters are aged 21+. pure fluff / mentions of kaiser's past experiences with his dad. nothing suggestive.
imagine michael kaiser falling in love with you, the owner's daughter of that one bakery that lived across their street. that same girl who gave him free bread everyday, and that same girl who would cry whenever he was wounded and bruised.
your family isn't the richest— but you owned the best bakery in the slums area. because of that, you were often a target of bullies. they bullied you because you have everything that most slum kids didn't have. you had loving parents, you were well-fed, and your parents have stable and honest income from the family business. you were also very pretty, so a lot of people made fun of you, thinking that you are a 'spoiled ditzy princess'.
until one day, you go out for a while to play with others. there, you met him— michael kaiser. he was all bruised and wounded. and to be honest, it looked like he was going to die... if you did not help him that day.
few minutes later, you gave him some water to drink and some sourdough bread to eat and take home. that's all your family's bakery sells after all. your mother also treated his wounds.
he introduced himself as 'michael kaiser' to you and your family. to your parents, he seemed to be a nice and a timid child. but to you, he was cold and a bit hesitant to play and to be friends with you. it was almost as if he hated you.
well, that's what you thought— until there were bunch of kids coming at you, wanting to bully you, pull your hair, and just flat-out mess with you. kaiser was the one who protected you. he told them that he won't hesitate to beat the shit out of them if they mess with you.
apparently, most slum kids are scared of kaiser, which means that you were sooo protected.
and ever since then, you would give him sourdough bread... and if your store is feeling fancy, you would give him some bread rolls that your mother made.
even if kaiser protected you a lot, he was still cold towards you. you thought that he wasn't just expressive.
the truth is, kaiser actually really really liked you. but he didn't have the confidence because he sees you as an angel, and he's just... well, he's just who he is.
fast forward when both of you grew up— well, both of you were in high school when the incident happened. by incident i mean, when he was arrested for alleged stealing.
during that time, both of you were still friends. but you rarely see him because of the 'sidelines' that kept him busy. still, you try your best to keep in touch. sometimes, you would pass by their home and give him something like sourdough bread and some bread rolls.
as time went by, you grew feelings for him. you no longer see him as the friend who protected you, but he was like a knight and shining armor. sometimes, you still wonder why he hasn't let you meet his new friends tho...
one day, kaiser got arrested for stealing. your family was deeply sad about it. they knew that his father forced him to do it— and that he's not the type to do something like that.
after that, you've never heard from him again. until a year later, you've started seeing him on billboards, commercials, and etc. it seems that he's playing for a team in germany.
despite all that happened and the separation between the both of you, you felt very happy for him. whatever success he was experiencing at this point, he deserved it. you were sad that he forgot about you, but eventually, you've come to accept that both of you live in two different worlds now.
until one day, you saw a familiar figure appearing on the bakery door. his usually grumpy expression was changed into a smug and confident one.
your eyes delighted to see who it was — it was michael kaiser, your knight and shining armor, who seem to have returned to see you again. he came back for you.
note: should i make a part two of this?lol
btw this isn't proofread so i apologize in advance!
EDITED: PART TWO YALL (minors dont read pt 2)
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zerosconsort · 14 days ago
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Zero's Fic Binding - Sixpence In His Shoe
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Sixpence In His Shoe by scifigrl47 [@scifigrl47]
Fandom: Marvel (Comics) Ship: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Start Date: 02/05/24 End Date: 01/21/25 Pages: 253
I am, honestly, probably the most proud of this cover. This might be the most detailed, delicate, intricate thing I’ve made - ever. I know I haven’t been doing this long, but this? This is really good.
The amount of layers in this bitch is astounding. Sometimes I yearn for the embrace of a better graphic software then Canva. We’ll get there. Anyway.
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There is an Owlcrate special edition of The Longest Autumn that inspired the shit out of me for this, along with the version of The Fine Print that i saw in Target that was this beautiful lined foil design. The idea of a mirrored, hyper intricate lace-like cover that wove all the individual parts of the story together drove me crazy. 
The vinyl is foil - which, if you are new to HTV and want to use it to make book covers, LISTEN: This foil sucks. All foil HTV sucks. It’s going to suck to cut. It’s going to REALLY suck to iron on. It will be worth it, but it’s going to try and drag your soul out of your body by your fingernails the entire time you’re using it.
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Alright, lets talk about the process and the typeset. 
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The entire theme of this fic is marriage - in both that the characters got married, are having a wedding, and are desperately in love with each other despite not actually telling each other that before said marriage and wedding. I initially was going to do a blue and white theme, more along the lines of really flowery modern wedding invitations - but then I read the fic again.
I forgot about the first chapter. Reading again, I paid more attention to what everyone around them was doing to celebrate marriage being legal. The process of it. The traditional feel of how it was done. And that’s the hook that I followed instead. 
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Sixpence doesn't have chapter names - so instead I pulled some of the wedding traditions that I researched and used those as my chapter foundations.
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Each chapter gets one, where I use the motif as the header and the scene breaks in the chapter. I also added the iconography to the chapter numbers in the header.
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I made three of these in total. I fought this book every step of the way - I really needed to be a more experienced version of me to make this book the way I wanted to, but honestly? I literary did the best I could, and even I can tell that I did it.
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The first copy of this book went to Sci - Its got a little extra character from being the first version, but out of the three sisters I made of this print run, she turned out the best looking. I'm keeping the most fucked up version (which is otherwise perfect, really, save for the fact that I put the FUCKING SPINE ON BACKWARDS), while the littlest sister is going to go to one of my best friends for a VERY belated gift.
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This was a surprised gift for Sci - who had reached out to me almost 4 months ago and asked if they could maybe, possibly, have a copy of Maybe Tomorrow. I knew immediately that I wanted to make this for her too; I had the typeset in my Want To Make file since FEBRUARY OF 2024. So I dusted it off, dumped my other project to the side, and hyper focused on this book for about a month and a half. 
Sci - I admire the fuck out of you. You are a gift and a treasure, and I hope you are ok with me getting my little racoon hands on your fics. Thank you for being open to my interpretation of your work. It’s a privilege and an honor to bind them.
If by some miracle, you have not had the pleasure of reading Sixpence In His Shoe - or any of Sci’s work, #1 what the fuck, #2 please start here.
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hiraethwrote · 5 months ago
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sidelines
cw: f!reader, hurt/no comfort, reader gets injured, semi proofread wc: 1.1k
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meeting you was a coincidence. falling in love with you was an accident. distancing from you was a choice.
satoru still remembered the flash of heartbreak that washed over your face when he had served you a lie; i think we’re better off as friends.
it would always be carved into his mind — the sharp breath you took to settle yourself, blinking away the shy tears before you had nodded along weakly. “oh, okay.” it had barely been a whisper, but your tone would forever haunt him.
he knew it was for the best, keeping you at arms length no matter how much he hated it.
some part of him had always suspected he might have to sacrifice the experience of true love, and therefore he had never pursued it. the target on his back was just too big to be worth the risk.
nonetheless, you had come into his life like the season’s first fall of snow — unexpected.
and whatever you had done, he had fallen completely in the matter of mere moments, because when you looked at him you had seen satoru… just satoru.
when he was with you, he didn’t need to be the strongest. he wasn’t the heir to the gojo clan. he wasn’t the first sorcerer in centuries born with the six eyes.
no, when he was with you, he was satoru, the guy who hummed quietly when your fingers brushed through his hair. he was satoru, the guy who caused you frustration when he yet again forgot to bring your favourite drink that you had requested, turning in the door as quickly as he has arrived to go get it. he was satoru, the guy who was finally starting to enjoy the quiet normalcy of everyday life.
how naive you had made him.
because he had slowly started to believe that he could take a moment to breath when it came to his responsibilities, simply wallow in the warmth of your natural compassion and affection. he could lean into the soft touch of your hand and for a second forget what rested on his shoulders.
how wrong he had been, when you had accidentally found yourself witness, and also collateral damage, to one of his encounters with curses.
it happened so quickly, he hadn’t even noticed the action itself until he saw your unmoving body on the ground. never had satoru been as scared as he was the moment his eyes landed on you, certain his own heart stopped at the sight.
he quickly exorcised the troubling curses before rushing over to you, kneeling beside your unconscious body. with utmost care, he had swooped you into his arms, holding his breath as he checked for a pulse, not trusting any of his abilities to tell him, needing to physically feel the faint pumping at the side of your neck.
it felt like an entire lifetime passed before he found the soft signs of life, instantly letting out a shaky breath when he could finally confirm with his own flesh that you were still breathing.
with a bruised and bloody hand, he carefully brushed your hair out of your face to reveal a rather severe gash across your forehead.
he breathed your name, waiting to see the reactive, light raise of your eyebrows that happened subconsciously whenever he spoke the sweet tune. but your face stayed completely still, not even a single twitch in your eyelids to indicate you were waking up.
next thing he knew, he was stood in front of shoko with you in his arms, begging her to help you.
“it’s not severe,” shoko tried to reassure him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder while he sat at your bedside. “you can even take her home.”
he’d only nodded in confirmation, not daring to take his eyes off of you. he wanted to be the first thing you saw when your eyes eventually fluttered open — he was not going to miss that moment for anything.
and while he waited, he was deep in thought. churning and chewing on how best to prevent you from ever getting hurt again.
he had been lucky this time, but there was no guarantee it would end as well as it did next time, and he would stop at nothing to ensure your safety. but every idea he came up with ended with the same heartbreaking conclusion.
because the incident had him realise you were his one and only weakness — that meant you would always be in danger.
it was only a matter of time before you would not be his secret anymore. eventually it was bound to be a common fact in the jujutsu world, that there was one way to have the strongest sorcerer at their mercy.
satoru would not be able to live with himself if that was the case.
the safest thing for you was to break your heart — tell you that it wasn’t working. he had just been caught up in the intensity of the honeymoon phase, swept up in the comfort you had provided. which was all true, the lie was saying those feelings had passed.
but he was the strongest — who better to protect you than him? so the earnest preposition of friendship had been his way of being able to keep an eye on you without directly exposing you to the dangers of his world.
now his future was destined to be nothing but torture.
he would eventually see the sparkle in your eye return when you finally got over him. and when that happened, which he knew it would, he waited in despair for the day you would fall in love again.
you would trail your fingers through the hair of a person that wasn’t him. your eyes would stare hearts at a face that wasn’t his. at night, when you were sound asleep, your breathing would move in unison with someone who was not him — but you would be safe, shied away from the world he was forever trapped to serve.
satoru would torture himself for eternity, be a helpless audience in the theatre of your life, watch you indulge in all the happiness life had to offer, if it meant he wouldn’t put you in danger.
after meeting you, satoru had learned he wasn’t really a person meant to love from a distance. the love he had for you was all over him, supposed to be loaded onto the one person it belonged to; you. his devotion for you was so big and all consuming, filling any void he found himself in.
but if it was from the sidelines he would get to see you live — it was in the sidelines he would stay.
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a/n sorry
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©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited
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i9messi · 2 months ago
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Christmas miracle — Max Verstappen
Max and you were friends, but this Christmas something happens between you two.
Word count — 1,6k
note: friends to lovers!! It's romantic and highly inspired in Christmas romcoms.
masterlist
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You didn't know what, but something was different during these days. You were spending your time in a small hidden village in Sweden. It was very homely, the houses were decorated and the Christmas spirit was present, even if you didn’t understand the language of the locals. Christmas was worldwide and you were someone who loved sharing and caring about others, as much as you loved these special days.
Your friend Max had invited you because he knew how much you loved this moment of the year and the need to get out of your exhausting routine. Working full-time and still a little bit depressed from breaking up with your boyfriend, your best friend thought it was the best idea so you could forget about your worries and just focus on Christmas.
“Auch!”
You complained loudly, as you felt the snowball hit the back of your head. A child had thought it was a good idea to start throwing snowballs at complete strangers, and you were the target of his prank.
“Do you want me to throw a snowball at him? I can throw one in his face, so he doesn’t bother anymore.”
You laughed, while Max looked at the child as if he was really thinking about throwing a snowball in his face.
“Don't be silly. Kids are just kids, Max. Where is your Christmas spirit?”
“I wasn't like him at his age.”
“No, but you were way worse. I remember you fighting with Charles and other kids in the karting.”
He said nothing. As you continued your walk, Max forgot about the kid and started talking about different things. To hear him speak so freely was beautiful, because now that the races had ended for a short period, it was as if his mind could disconnect from all of it.
He wasn’t the Max that everyone knew, the one who seemed to only care about winning and succeeding. No, this was the Max you knew: someone loving, caring and good friend.
You both started to shop in the small market of the village. Milk, chocolate and marshmallows. That same morning you told him that Christmas was not the same without a cup of hot chocolate and as Max never forgot anything, he decided to go shopping with you.
The old lady who was attending smiled at the reflection of both of you.
“You make a beautiful couple.”
“Oh, we’re just friends.” you and Max said at the same time, correcting the woman.
“My husband and I were only friends, and now we have been married for fifty years and have seven grandchildren. We used to say we're just friends, look at us now.”
You smiled while Max paid for everything.
“I’m happy being friends.” He said and the lady looked at him with a little mistrust.
“Now that Jultomten is coming, there is something different in the air, something magical. It’s never too late for a Christmas miracle.”
Knowing that the woman just wanted you two to say you were in love and loved each other more than friends, you both decided to just nod and leave the store. The way to your rented house was short. The children were making snowmen and throwing more and more snowballs. Luckily, this time neither you nor Max were the target of them.
Once you arrived at the house, you and Max went to your separate rooms to change clothes for something more comfortable and also to turn on the heating. Back in your pajamas, you appeared in the kitchen. Max made the hot chocolate and you took the marshmallows and put them in the cup.
Once it was done, you took seats on the sofa, right next to the fireplace.
“It tastes so good,” you said, without separating your gaze from Max's.
“I could live like this. Without caring over winning races and titles, just spending my time with my best friend in a small town.”
You smiled, Max was right. These days were so enjoyable, without caring about anything. You forgot about your responsibility, about social media and everything else. It was Max and you. You and Max. Nothing more. Life was so beautiful with you and him together.
“We could live happily together,” you joked, while taking another sip.
Something changed in Max's eyes. He suddenly became someone you couldn't read, not completely.
“Would you?”
“Live happily with you? Why not? You're my best friend.”
There was a deep silence, until he spoke. His eyes looked at you with great attention, waiting for your reaction.
“Can I be totally honest with you?”
“I always thought you were honest with me, Max.”
And he was. He was a person you could trust, because he always told you the truth. Even when it was hurtful.
“I'm in love with you.”
He spoke so low, you could hardly hear his whisper. Yet you were very sure of what you had heard. He loved you. Your best friend loved you.
“Max, what are you talking about?”
“I have loved you since the moment I knew you. For years I thought I had no chance— but look at me, risking all. I’m waiting for a Christmas miracle to happen so you’ll realize that I’ve always been there for you.”
You got up from the chair and left the hot drink on a small table.
“Max, don’t lie.”
“I’m not lying.” He also stood up from his seat, repeating the same thing you had done.
His blue eyes never shined so bright. You knew him, and for so many years you learned when he was lying and when he was not. He was telling the truth, his truth.
“Why didn’t you tell me before? Why now?”
“Would it have changed things?”
He continued to speak, because you didn't know what to say.
“No, it wouldn’t have changed anything. You would have gone with that asshole who broke your heart and I would still be waiting for an opportunity… I’m not lying and I would never lie to you. I’m in love with you and it drives me crazy to think that someone so stupid could break your heart and make you cry. I would never make you cry, love.”
“Max— I need time to think.”
“Don't go.”
“I’ll be back.”
You grabbed your coat and didn’t give him time to respond, walked away. The children were still playing, but everything seemed to move in slow motion at that time. You found a seat, while tears fell from your eyes.
Suddenly, a young girl stood in front of you.
“Why are you crying?”
The good part was that the girl spoke the same language as you, the worst part was that you couldn’t blame the bad translation for not knowing how to express your feelings.
“Oh, nothing.”
“Crying is good, but my mom always tells me it’s also good to talk about the things that make us cry.”
You smiled at her.
“My best friend told me he’s in love with me.”
“So what’s the problem? I’m in love with my best friend, too.”
“How did you realize?”
Asking that to a girl who looked like she was no more than ten years old was a little pathetic, but still, you found yourself doing it.
“He is my favourite person in the whole world. I care about him being happy and his opinion is important for me. Sometimes I dream about holding his hand and about how it would be a future together. I feel butterflies in my tummy and I feel nervous he gives me attention, especially in a way that feels different from others.”
You nodded and spoke a minute later, with your heart beating so fast.
“I used to be in love with him, when I was little. I thought— I was so sure that those feelings had disappeared but now, I think they never disappeared. Not entirely.”
“You should go and talk to him, you need to tell him how you feel.”
You nodded.
“You’re right, little friend.”
You stood and looked at the girl.
“Thank you.”
“Merry Christmas to you.”
You smiled and started walking toward the house, you found Max walking fast down the streets. His face looked worried as he tried to find you among the people on the streets. His gaze met yours and some calm painted on his face, but still, he hurried to close the gap between the two.
“I was worried, you weren’t coming back and it was getting late. I know you don’t feel the same as me and…”
“Max, shut up and listen to me.”
He kept his mouth closed.
“I freaked out. When you told me that you had feelings for me, I thought everything would change between us but now that I think about it, nothing is going to change. When I was a kid, I used to think we’d be together when we grew up. I thought we’d get married and end up like all those couples I used to see when I was little. When time passed, I guess I stopped daydreaming or somehow tried to date other people, knowing that I couldn’t have you. Not like that. I searched the faces of other men, not knowing you would be here waiting for me."
He swallowed, “What do you mean?”
"Isn't it obvious? A wise person made me realize that those feelings never went away and that I still have feelings for you.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want my feelings to influence the way you feel.”
“Max, I’ve never been more sure in my life. Oh, except every time I knew you were going to win the championship.”
He smiled. A genuine smile that made him look much softer than he really was.
“You are making me the happiest man.”
“Max?”
“Yes?”
“We could go home and kiss there.”
He smiled and he held your hand.
“Let’s go.”
In fact, you kissed a lot.
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cobaltperun · 2 months ago
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Eternal Flame (15) - Why’d you only call me when you’re high
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Jenna Ortega x Female Reader
Summary: For her it’s a passion, for you it’s an accident. And as she continues shining brighter and brighter with each role you are left mesmerized, drawn to her flame and cherishing every time she lets herself be vulnerable with you.
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Word Count: 4.7k
-Decided that once again I was just dreaming of bumping into you-
You felt free, finally going through your days without feeling all of that weight on your shoulders, and you were busy cleaning up all of the mistakes you made. You had to do it before you had the chance to see Jenna again, and there was still one more person from you past you needed to settle your score with, at least in a way.
Surprisingly, it was raining today and you forgot your umbrella, but frankly you didn't really care. You felt good and no amount of rain could change that, besides even through all of the rain you could occasionally see a ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds, and it just made you happy. No matter how long the rain would last, the sunlight would eventually break through the clouds, as cliche as that sounded.
You went and walked through the doors of the gym, taking off the hood from your head as you did so. You looked around, contemplating the decisions that led you here. Despite everything that happened and the fact that he pulled you into that, you couldn't deny that Davis also gave you a job, an actual proper job at this gym that could sustain you if you chose to quit fighting.
“Not exactly a busy day,” you said as you approached his desk. Why he kept the desk in the gym instead of having an office was beyond you, but it made things easier for you now. It only now crossed your mind, but now that you thought about it maybe that was how he spotted the potential fighters. You looked over the guys working out, seeing as those were his usual targets for recruitment, and wondered if any of them would take the chance if he offered it.
“Is it? I barely noticed,” sarcasm slipped through his façade of indifference, but he didn't look mad at you. Not that you really cared if he was mad, but he certainly didn't look mad. “Come and sit. Do you want something to drink or maybe grab a meal? I can order something,” hell, he seemed somewhat happy to see you.
“No, I'm good. I just wanted to come by and thank you,” you said, though you did take a seat. No matter how those fights affected your life you couldn't deny that they did give you a chance to save your parents, and later down the line, even if you did do it for different reasons, they did give you enough money to finish high school without having to spread yourself thin and find a full time job.
Davis looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “It was just business. You fought and we both earned money, I gave you a job here and your dedication to it brought me more money. At the end of the day we both profited from this arrangement.”
That was one way to look at it, and you didn’t lie to yourself, Davis did none of it out of the goodness of his heart. He just saw profit and took his chance, a businessman through and through, only connected to rather brutal business.
“You took a chance, one most people wouldn't,” he saw the desperation and found away to cash it in, cruel, but beneficial for both of you. And in a way because of that there was one more thing you wanted to do, a rather ridiculous thing to do, but you wanted the clean slate. So, you went and pulled out a fairly large envelope from your jacket and you placed it in front of him.
“What's this?” he asked and your shrugged.
“$128,000, the exact amount I earned after my parents died, for thirty wins and eight losses. I got paid so I'm giving it all back. I’m starting over so I want to completely separate myself from that time of my life. I know this doesn't erase it. nothing will ever erase it, but in some way, it feels like almost filthy money. Not in the: ‘I did something illegal’ way but in the ‘I did something I shouldn’t have’ way,” you've been thinking about it for a while now, ever since you decided to quit fighting, and you got paid enough from the movies you did lately so you could afford this.
Davis didn't think it over for one bit, he just pushed the envelope back to you. “So, then donate this to some charity. Help some people in need. I don't care how you feel about this money, but you earned it with blood and sweat, and all the effort you put into being able to fight like that. You want a clean slate? You'll never get it, accept that it was a part of you and try to do some good with it if you really want to make up for whatever hurt this caused to you or your loved ones,” he said and you found yourself considering his words. You offered the money to him, he didn't take it, so you took it back.
“Sure, you got any charity you want me to donate this to?” you asked as you got up.
“Make a wish,” his answer was immediate, and for a moment you put it all together and nodded, silently acknowledging just how similar the two of you might have been. You’d never know for sure, and you didn’t need to know for sure.
“Take care,” you turned to leave, understanding that this was the last time you would ever talk to this man. There would never be a reason for him or you to reach out to one another again.
“You too, kid. Don't go finding another person to recruit you into fights,” he replied and you raised your hand, waving slightly as you walked out of the gym.
~X~
It was late at night when Jenna stumbled through the motel, back to her room, smelling like booze and smoke, and just feeling downright awful with the headache already starting. She felt like throwing up, as if everything else wasn’t already enough. She’s been getting somewhat drunk over the past month, seeing as she could legally drink here, and her co-stars didn't mind having some fun. But tonight was just a completely different beast! She went bar hopping with Scott, and was now damn near blackout drunk as she stumbled into her room.
The alcohol hit her hard, and she should have guessed that would happen when she began mixing it. She just fell onto her bed, sick and tired of the smell that was now stuck to her clothes. She really needed to get up and go to the bathroom to freshen up, to wash her face and maybe throw up, she wasn’t sure, and she needed to drink something for her headache and the inevitable hangover.
So, she pushed herself to her feet and nearly tripped on her way to the bathroom. She wasn't even happy, she progressively got more miserable with every shot she took. With every drop of alcohol she just missed you more and more.
A cynical voice in her head invaded her mind as she began washing her face after throwing up, telling her she's gotten so far as an actress. Months ago, she got so self-conscious about her feelings for you that she couldn't black out and kiss you, yet here she was, just days ago filming a scene where she was stripped down to her underwear, crawling over to a guy 19 years older than her. If you were there you would have first of all made sure she was completely comfortable, like you did before you were supposed to kiss. She pushed through the scene, thankful that she didn’t have lines in it, because she was just thinking about you through it all.
The cynical voice kept mocking her, taunting her as she remembered the one and only time her lips touched yours. The way you so softly caressed her cheek, how right the kiss felt for her, and in her drunken state she caught herself wondering yet again just how she allowed herself to throw it all away.
She barely remembered to turn the water off, before she took her clothes off and went to the chair she left your shirt on. The feel of your shirt against her skin felt right, and Jenna glanced at the mirror. The shirt looked more like a rather short dress on her, and she went back to the bed, dropping on it before covering herself with your jacket. As the days passed she’s been getting more and more attached to these two articles of clothing, at this point they might as well be her own. Nothing about them reminded her of you anymore, other than just knowing that they were once yours. She's washed the shirt so many times that even trying to figure out what perfume you used wouldn’t help.
Yet, they still somehow brought her comfort. Just a few more days, just a few more unbearable days without you, and then she could try to fix what she did.
She wasn't exactly in the right state of mind, too drunk to even consider the consequences or think about how it would affect her decision to make sure your first contact would be face to face. She just opened her camera and snapped a picture of herself laying on the bed, your jacket thrown off and next to her, and she looked at the camera while her fingers tugged at the collar of your shirt.
And she went and sent it to you, not even caring about what time it was where you were. Hell, she wasn’t even completely aware of what time it was, she just knew it was the middle of the night, and that you should be sleeping. She didn’t even consider how this would look. Or that the first thing you would get from her wasn't even an apology or a plea to meet up, but rather a photo of her looking drunk.
She tossed her phone aside, her mind drifting to everything that happened between you. How you would hold her, lift her up, hug her, how it felt to you have your arms around her. How soft your cheeks felt against her lips, or how she felt butterflies in her stomach whenever she could feel your own lips on her skin. Jenna remembered all that in vivid detail as she drifted between being asleep and awake, just barely opening her eyes to see if you got the message. She considered sending you another one, though she didn't even have any ideas why. She just felt like doing it, besides, she’s been getting the chance to see your photos from the vacation every now and then, and she was sure you didn't know about that. So maybe it was just fair of her to let you see her now. And then she checked the messages and was immediately startled awake when she saw ‘delivered’ changing to ‘seen’.
“Oh shit!” she watched with bated breath as you did nothing. You didn't start typing, you just saw the message and in her panicked state and fear that you were now absolutely furious at her she hit the call button frantically.
The seconds almost felt as if each one lasted for an eternity, and then finally, you picked up.
“Jen?” you said her nickname, not even her name, but the nickname! And she just wasn't even sure how she felt about it, despite how much she loved hearing you say it. On one hand the relief flooded her entire body, on the other hand she felt like crying, because after all that happened the first word to come out of your mouth was her nickname. “Are you OK? Say something, please,” she heard you sitting up frantically, and for a moment she wondered if you were as nervous as she was.
“I’m not OK, I miss you,” she once again felt sick in her stomach and this time it had nothing to do with alcohol she consumed, although she guessed that only amplified everything now.
“Jen, focus on my voice. Take a deep breath for me, you'll be fine,” you spoke so softly, and she didn't feel like she deserved it. You immediately, without any apology or explanation from her, slipped right back into that same protective nature, calming her down before her anxiety could take over. “Can you do that for me?”
“I can,” she took a deep breath, audible enough for you to hear, and the sigh of relief coming from your side was almost enough to make her cry.
“Just like that, Jen, you're doing great. Focus on something else, think of being somewhere where you're not alone,” you instructed her, and Jenna knew exactly where she wanted to be.
“I want to be with you. I want you to hug me and lift me up, and take me in your arms and just-“ she suppressed a sob as best as she could. “I just want to feel you all around me, Y/N,” she buried her face in her pillow, trying to cover up her sobs.
“I can't do much from here, maybe, I don’t know, do you want to FaceTime?” you offered but she couldn't accept that, she couldn’t let you see just how broken she was by all of this, by this overwhelmingly long distance between you, and now by this sudden development. You were talking to her, she was listening to your voice, and it felt like nothing changed.
“It's not the same,” she wanted to, if she ever had the rights to do something like that again, feel you in every way she could think of. To give you everything she had, to let you take anything you wanted as long as you stayed by her side.
“I know, I miss you too,” those words filled her with warmth, and despite tears she smiled. “I wanted to see you, I want to explain myself and apologize for what happened,” you had nothing to apologize for in Jenna’s mind. You weren't the one who was refusing to see things from another perspective, you weren't the one who rejected her, she was the one who did all that, she was the one who couldn't see past the initial negative reaction she had.
“I’m the one who messed up,” she argued, crying out of despair and sorrow.
“Jen, don’t. Don’t think like that, it was a natural reaction to what you found out. There is nothing wrong with how you reacted. Jenna, listen to me, I will never blame you for anything that happened these past three months. You had every right to react like that, I kept a secret I should have never kept from you,” why were you so damn understanding when she hurt you so much. When she let things go to far, when she didn’t immediately, right in front of you, berate her father for what he did to you.
“I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make it up to you,” she whispered, wondering if she would ever be able to forgive herself because while you clearly weren't angry with her, she still struggled to forgive herself.
“How about we start over, hmm? We acknowledge what happened and move on,” despite all the negative emotions she felt this idea still made her feel happy. That was what she wanted, more than anything, to just once again have you in her life.
“I want that, I want all of you, Y/N,” and your breath hitched at that, and Jenna just realized she said the same thing she said when you were over at her parents’ house. “I want to give you all of me, anything you want.”
“You have all of me, you've had all of me for a long time now, hell before I even knew it,” she trusted every word you said. Did you even notice how easily you stopped her before her panic attack could even begin? That was how easily you affected her, how much just hearing your voice meant to her. That was how safe you made her feel, because being vulnerable felt right as long as it was with you.
“I don't know how to make my parents understand,” she admitted, hoping you would somehow put her mind to ease about that concern as well.
“I'll make an effort. I'll get them to see I'm not a danger to you,” you decided so easily, yet she didn't want that.
“That's not what I want, Y/N. You shouldn't have to prove anything to them, my dad punched you, pointed a gun at you, my entire family has been against you and if anyone should make an effort it's them,” yet, though she felt that, she had no idea how to get there. Enrique tried his best, he told them everything he told her, yet they barely listened. They acknowledged that he probably had the point, but in their eyes, it was too late now. The mistakes were made, the resentment had infected your relationship with them in their eyes. So, at this point they were choosing the easier path for them, even if the cost was her own happiness. They thought that they could just brush everything under the rug, ignore the problem and face no repercussions, because she couldn't cut them out of her life. And they knew how much they mattered to her, that she couldn't ever choose anyone if it meant cutting them off.
So, they wouldn't make that effort, hoping that their silence would perhaps chase you away. And Jenna hated it. Deep down she knew that she needed both you and her family in her life, and yet she feared that lack of effort on their part would make her lose you. That you wouldn’t be able to take it.
“I don't care,” you just shattered that concern into pieces. “I don't care who's right or wrong here. I don't care who needs to apologize, all I want is you. Jen, if having you in my life means I have to deal with awkward family reunions, or constant concerns or questions, or anything your parents can throw at me, I don't care, I still want you. This is our relationship, and I will never jeopardize it for another person, no matter who they are and no matter what they did. And I will never ask you to sacrifice anything, let alone your relationship with your family for us. So, whatever concern you have we'll get through it.”
You've never been like this before. This open and vulnerable. Something changed within you since you left Coachella on that day, and she wasn't sure what it was. But, she could feel it in every word you spoke. You had something worth fighting for, your relationship with her, and there was nothing that could make you stop fighting, nothing other than Jenna herself telling you she didn't want it. And for the first time in her life Jenna fully believed this between you was permanent. That no matter what happened or who tried to get between the two of you she knew that she was yours for the rest of her life, and if your words were any indication, you were hers as well.
“You're too much,” she managed a weak laugh, broken up by sobs. “I need you next to me so much, Y/N, need to feel you, to love you,” you were too much in the best way possible. Loving her so intensely and she found herself just giving in to it, just hoping she could love you with the same intensity.
“I'm just in love,” you said surprising her once again tonight.
It just slipped right out of her mouth as well. “I'm in love too. I love you,” as if everything else she said about how much she needed and wanted you wasn't enough of a confession, she just went and said it.
“I love your, Jenna,” she swore she could hear the smile in your words, and she was sure you were grinning. She closed her eyes and though she desperately wanted to keep this going she knew she was just about to fall asleep.
“I don't think I can stay awake for much longer,” she yawned, relieved and happy now.
“Sleep well, Love,” and you both kind of laughed at that, because that was exactly how your character called Tara. Thinking about it now, there were quite a few similarities between you and Jenna and your character and Tara.
“Stay with me until I fall asleep, please,” she asked, knowing it wouldn't take her long to fall asleep.
“Of course, I am right here, I'm not leaving you again,” you whispered and even if you were on the other side of the world Jenna felt closer to you than even back when the two of you were watching Logan.
~X~
The dream last night was the best one she had in months, the only thing that could have made it better was if you were actually physically present during the conversation instead of talking over the phone, but she figured that gave the dream some kind of plausibility and made it feel more real. “I should never drink again, that was a mistake,” Jenna groaned, burying her face in her hands, only to hear her phone dropping onto the mattress. Why was her phone in her hand? She looked at it, puzzled. She must have fallen asleep with it, it was probably nothing to be worried about. Jenna sat up and looked down at herself, blushing. Oh, she really got drunk last night.  She’s fallen asleep like this before, wearing your shirt, but this was a new low even for her. She had absolutely nothing underneath it.
And then she unlocked her phone, and her eyes widened as she came face to face with not only your messages open, but a phone call that she initiated. And above it all? A picture of her and she looked downright inappropriate on it, especially considering she had nothing underneath your shirt. She was tugging at the color of your shirt, her hair was a mess, a sleeve of your jacket could be seen next to her head, and why was she sucking in her damn lower lip like that?!
She may have been overreacting, but frankly she couldn’t tell. This this was the first thing you got from her in two and a half months? This thing was the first thing you saw? And with the way she was looking at the camera in the photo she might as well have written ‘fuck me’ on the photo! And then she had the guts to call you, ruining everything she's so meticulously planned. What did she even say to you?! And then it hit her at the time she was calling you it was already past four in the morning where you were! She woke you up, she went and woke you up drunk and emotional and who knows what else, and that dream wasn't a dream it was actually reality and it all came back to her as if in an instant! As the memories flooded her Jenna wasn't sure whether to scream, cry, laugh, or explode with happiness, because she didn't want it to turn out this way but she got the results! She told you everything she wanted to tell you, and she said it so clumsily just throwing it all at you in the complete opposite way of how she planned to do it.
And it worked!
It not only worked, but you said you loved her back!
Just like that, one conversation, ten minutes. That's all it took for two and a half months of tension, despair, frustration, depression, loneliness, longing, and hundreds of different things she couldn't even think of right now as her migraine made her head feel like it would explode, all end. All it took to fix all of that was ten minutes of drunken rambling and crying and telling you everything she felt.
Oh, why the fuck didn't she just do it before?! If all she had to do to fix all of this was to just grab a shit-ton of alcohol, and pour it down her throat, then she should have done it sooner!
Right, that all happened… and now she was looking at the plane ticket for Denver she booked, and the eighteenth couldn’t come sooner.
~X~
Despite all the eagerness she felt when she boarded the plane from New Zealand to Denver and excitement when she met up with Barbara, Jenna now found herself progressively getting more and more nervous as Barbara’s dad drove them to your apartment building.
“You're lucky my dad is right here, or I'd be teasing the hell out of you,” Barbara turned to look at her and Jenna believed the girl wholeheartedly. If there was one thing she learned in these past two months it was that this girl had no mercy, and would only stop teasing if she really couldn't do it. For example, like right now, when her dad was in the car with them, and Jenna supposed that would be enough to tell her what kind of teasing Barbara had in mind. Probably something along the line of: ‘This is the most elaborate help me get laid plan ever’ because that was actually something Barbara said when Jenna explained what she had in mind. It wasn't even all that elaborate at all. Jenna got from New Zealand to Denver on a plane, Barbara and her dad picked her up, and the reason for that was simple. Jenna had her suitcases, and her bag, and she had, as she ever so often mentioned, noodle arms which could not handle carrying all of this stuff all at once up the stairs to your apartment.
“I'm really thankful you came to pick me up,” Jenna said, and she honestly was thankful for that because it would have been a lot more complicated if she had to do all of this by herself. She might have even gotten so desperate as to call you to help her with her suitcases, and that would just ruined everything in her mind.
“As long as you get the girl, it's all good,” Barbara clearly couldn't stop teasing entirely, and had to leave that quip in.
Barbara's dad parked close enough to the building and the three of them climbed up to your apartment. They left Jenna’s suitcases in front of your doors and Barbara turned to her. “You know, I could give you the keys so you can walk right in and surprise her like that,” Barbara suggested one last time, but Jenna didn't want that. She wanted to knock on your door and see you as you opened the doors for her. You had no idea she was coming today, she told you she would come tomorrow, and Barbara made sure that you would be home. That was the elaborate part of the plan, because she had to make excuses for you to not go anywhere while not coming by herself, and actually get you to listen to her.
“I'm good,” she took a deep breath. “Thanks again, I’ll take it from here,” Jenna turned to your doors and cleared her throat, and Barbara just patted her on the back.
“Twelve hours, remember what I told you,” Jenna blushed a dark shade of red at that, her imagination may have been going wild since the two of you reconciled over the phone. And sure it wasn't the complete reconciliation, there were some things that still needed to be talked about and she couldn't be sure that things would progress that fast, but she's definitely been thinking about it.
And so, with Barbara and her dad waving at her as they left, she was left alone in the hall, in front of your doors, trying to keep the blush off her face as she raised her hand and knocked.
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A/N: And we're done with the angst, they do need to talk face to face, but the worst is absolutely behind us! Thanks to everyone who pushed through and stuck around!
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