#jenna reads you can keep holding on | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

adelheidvonschicksal · 6 months ago

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⋆｡°✩ DARLING, DON'T BE AFRAID

Summary: Despite living with Xavier for the past few weeks, you still haven't taken the plunge to see if all this time together make you anything more than roommates especially when he disappears again in the middle of the night. Determined, you decide to question him on where his feelings lie. You just never thought a simple kiss on the cheek was the only push needed.

Pairing: Xavier x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: Roommates AU, Vanilla Smut (A lot of it. Like 7k words of smut), Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Emotional Sex

Word Count: 12,000~

Note: Sequel to Do Roommates Sleep Together. This part can be read as a standalone. So not necessary to read part one but it adds more context.

AO3 Link

You make a final decisive pull of the trigger. A loud pang resonates in the air and smoke spirals off the barrel. The Wanderer disappears in a wisp of debris and dust that is quickly caught in the wind.

Xavier stands a few feet in front of you. His sword twirls with one final arc of light illuminating behind the sharpened tip before it dematerializes in his hand. You’re oblivious to the way his eyes search and find you on instinct as you run eager fingertips on the warm barrel of your pistol.

“Mission completed. We should report back.”

You raise your head to meet his gaze while your gloved fingers remain faithfully on your weapon. The adrenaline from a successful mission is still surging through you.

“I want to test out my guns some more.”

His eyes soften at your response, but the weight of his gaze is still heavy as he walks towards you and places his hand on your head.

“There will be more Wanderers tomorrow,” he murmurs. His thumb gently brushes your forehead before his hand swoops back over your hair. Though your hands were still itching for another battle, your mind was weak to the calmness of his tone, like the slow tumble of waves on the shore, as he coaxes your head back to look at him more directly. “Let’s go home.”

This time you do not protest. Even if you did, what could you possibly say?

Your aggression relaxes along with your shoulders, allowing you to give in to his request with a quick holstering of your twin guns.

You return to headquarters and give your mission report to Jenna – pausing only to poke fun when she mentions how much Xavier’s reporting time has improved since the two of you became partners – then you start on the way home with the sun kissing at your back.

Laughter fills the air on the streets. Immediately, you feel warm inside. It was only thanks to the work you do every day that citizens could enjoy this peaceful dusk without fear of monsters scrambling to destroy the city like so many years ago.

It’s rewarding to know you hold some small part in the safety of the city after almost dying in the catastrophe as a child. You breathed it in fully, letting joy fill your lungs as you savor the calm moment. The emotion is only highlighted by the fact that when you look to your side, you can see Xavier there, putting weight to the empty space left in the wake of your family’s death.

Walking home together in the past was a random occurrence, happening whenever your busy schedules after missions aligned. As freshly cemented roommates, it was almost a given you’d walk home together now. Not just to the apartment complex, but to an actual shared home.

This path you go along every day has become special in that time. It’s full of promises, the kind you could only wish for on snowy New Year's evenings as you tied red ribbons to the shrine gate and prayed for good things to happen in your life. Not a lot of those wishes came true but Xavier did.

In that way, you were a fortunate person.

It was only your guess if he felt the same. You want to ask him. Unlike when you’re fighting Wanderers, you’re not brave when it comes to Xavier - a part of you prefers to leave things between you unsaid. It’s safer that way as you can keep living in a beautiful world of your own illusions.

Therefore, you’re unable to help yourself. Pinching the sleeve of his uniform, you tug on it gently to gain his attention; Xavier looks at you with glossy glazed eyes. He’s always so sluggish after missions. His steps slow and methodical, like a robot, as he barely manages to straighten his spine and raise his head.

“Chin up, Xavier. We’re almost there.”

“I’m exhausted,” he says.

You don’t need to hear him say it to understand. You think you’ve become good at reading his body language by now. Donning a sympathetic smile, you shift your hand, aiming for a lower target, and entwine your fingers with his under the guise of leading him faster.

“My next solution is carrying you by the way.”

A smile cracks on his face, impossibly light as his gaze drifts to the hold you have on his hand. “I don’t think you could carry me.”

“You dare doubt me?” Truth be told, he was right. He was tall and muscular and much thicker under that uniform than he looked. He would probably crush you under his weight if you tried to lift him. Despite how improper it was to think, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted to place his weight on top of you in another way. You tick up the corner of your lips into a surprisingly innocent smile opposite of the images in your imagination as you flash your bicep to him. “I’m very strong.”

“I think it would make more sense if I carried you.”

“I can walk.”

“I don’t see why that matters,” he says with a yawn, and you smile.

“Are you sure you won’t drop me?”

“If it’s a choice between falling asleep and dropping you then I’ll definitely stay awake. Otherwise, you might end up carrying me after all,” he says. Xavier always manages to be unfailingly charming. Given the mystery of his past and the way he carries himself, you often question exactly what kind of upbringing he had. You almost ask but your interrogation doesn’t have the chance to plant seeds when he stops in front of you and kneels.

You thought he was joking when he said he’d carry you home but that doesn’t stop you from wrapping your arms over his broad shoulders and letting him scoop your legs up around his solid waistline.

His clasp on the back of your thighs makes you shiver. You feel like a touch-starved virgin that the simple strength of his hands over the thickness of your pants incited such a reaction out of you, so you bury your burning face against the back of his neck.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

Xavier must feel your hair against his neck, and you use the fact he can’t see your face to your advantage as you nod against his nape.

“Just hungry.”

For his part, Xavier doesn’t question your sudden hunger. Instead, he asks what you’re in the mood for and starts to list the restaurants that you pass on the way to the apartment complex.

You lay your cheek against him, watching the many buildings pass you by until you point out one you don’t recognize, flashing with many signs about a grand opening.

“How about that one?” you ask.

Xavier chuckles, continuing on in his steps past the building in question. “It’s not that great.”

“How do you know?”

“I tried them out.”

You squeeze into his shoulders, pushing off of them in a childlike manner and an even more dramatic gasp. “Without me?”

“I was going to bring you something back, but they weren’t very tasty. I like your cooking a lot more.”

You know he can’t see you, but you puff out your cheeks anyway. You wrap your arms tightly around him again, willing your heart not to skip when his back tenses as your chest compresses against him.

“Are you asking me to cook dinner for you? I’m quite exhausted after all that running around,” you tell him sarcastically.

He accidentally makes you regret your teasing when he agrees with a compassionate offer, “I’ll cook for you today.”

Hearing the word cook from his mouth makes your stomach sour. If there’s one thing after all these months you learned, it’s that Xavier is a…creative cook to put it gently. Or rather, he has zero cooking ability if it involves electricity. You didn’t mind. The two of you make it work with you doing most of the cooking and him cleaning up after, at your own behest, because if he had his way, he’d be in the kitchen much more often.

“On second thought, I’ll cook.”

“You still don’t trust me,” he says with a sigh. Guilt tingles through you. However, your continued survival outweighs the guilt that the memory of his puppy eyes can draw out of you. “I’ll handle the cold stuff, and I’ll leave the meat to you.”

“Deal,” you say, nuzzling your head against his neck.

When you get home, the night pans out like it always does. The two of you take turns in the shower with dinner being cooked shortly after, and the human garbage disposal known as your roommate leaves very little work for you to do once all is said and done.

You decide to start on the last of chores for today while Xavier washes the dishes. It’s routine to check the plants before going to bed as the many potted flowers were like your own children after you spent so many hours tending to them, finding the perfect ratio of nutrients and water to keep them thriving.

It is also routine to hunt down the birds so lovingly named Fatso and Alarm Clock by the sleepy man of the house to give them some of the seeds and nuts you regularly brought home from the store. You told Xavier that happy birds would stop eating his strawberries when in reality you liked to spoil them.

So, you spread out the seeds on the ground for them, leaving them there for later.

“If you feed them, they’ll never leave.”

You can’t help the laugh that leaves you. As much as he complains about the birds, you think, if his constant curiosity about the birds’ day-to-day lives was anything to go by, that he’d miss the two fluffy creatures if they were to ever find new nesting grounds. You turn back to the balcony door with a cheeky grin. “I have experience with things that don’t leave after you feed them. You enjoyed dinner a little too much.”

It’s hard to see in the fading light but Xavier blushes and brings a shy grip to the back of his neck. “Last I checked you moved in with me.”

That silences you. There’s no denying his observation, and you fail to notice him getting closer until he reaches his hand out to help you up. You willingly reach out, hand sinking into his touch as he lifts you to your feet.

The coolness of your palms touching slowly births a lingering warmth. The soft squeeze around your hand makes it hard to let him go but eventually you must. Otherwise, you might say things that are better kept to yourself as you walk back into the house and close the sliding door behind you.

With a pounding heart, you retire to your room early.

This room is a little different from the master room at your old apartment. The wall color is a little different brighter and it’s smaller. Luckily, you made the space work pretty easily by migrating half your plushie collection into Xavier’s room, checking like a dutiful mother to make sure he was treating them right and placing them with love should they roll off his dresser. Sighing, you change into slightly more comfortable clothes, choosing a random pair of soft shorts and a tank top to wear before climbing into bed. It’s ten when you finally let your eyes slip shut, and it's around eleven you feel someone touching you.

Your eyelids are surprisingly heavy; you can barely pry them open enough to see the wisp of grey-brown hair shadowing medium-blue eyes. You don’t protest as you feel his fingertips brush along your waist or when his knee digs into the mattress, sinking you towards his weight.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he wants. You raise your arm enough to let your fingertips greet the curve of his chin in silent acceptance. Slowly, you drop your hand and squeeze his bicep. Like a good little soldier, he follows the order to fall into the bed with you.

The most comfortable position is to slot your arm on top of his as he hugs your waist, props his leg on top of yours, and spoons your back. There’s absolutely zero space between your lower halves; and if he notices how you, with a small amount of shame, subtly shift and push yourself back on him a little more, he doesn’t say as he lolls his head against the curve of your neck while his incredibly light exhaling on your skin comforts you after a long day.

With a flutter of your eyelids, you slowly slip back into sleep with the happiness that comes with being roommates with your crush.

It’s times like these that make you think maybe he loves you. It’s also times like these that make you forget that despite all of the endearing things about him and despite how much you care about him, you don’t truly know a lot about him.

Xavier has always been a man with a lot of secrets. You’ve known this since you first met him asleep in the forest. It’s true that you once accepted the fact you’d never learn all his secrets but that was before whatever this abnormal relationship that the two of you found yourself in.

Even after living together for more than two months now, you still had no idea where he would go when he would sneak off in the middle of the night. You didn’t question where he goes anymore, you found that he wouldn’t give you a straight answer to save his life. You merely stayed up until you heard the sound of the door opening or the warped echo of air being sucked into a vacuum, indicating he teleported inside.

So, when you wake up at two in the morning, finding yourself alone and the side of the bed where he laid mere hours ago already cold, you’re not surprised.

Getting out of bed, you slip on your slippers and drag your feet to the balcony. It’s a familiar situation when you collapse into the swing chair, with nothing but the cold and the chirping of the birds to keep you company until he undoubtedly returns with his body hosting a family of fresh wounds.

It’s incredibly frustrating because you love him and seeing him hurt, without you having been there to prevent it, drives you crazy. You wonder why he won’t tell you, and your heart sinks, as quickly as a stone cast in a lake, with the idea that maybe you were the only one thinking that your relationship meant more than it did. Because even after all this time, you still aren’t close to him in the way you want.

Clenching your fists, you shove your eyes against them. It was all so infuriating when he ran off to fight Wanderers or whoever and left you all alone to overthink and worry about him like some helpless house plant. It was enough to make you want to cry as the strange foreboding sense of losing him begins to echo inside of you, making you nauseous. There’s only one way to get rid of this feeling. Taking in a deep breath, you settle to give him a piece of your mind about sneaking off so much and also to bite the bullet to confess your feelings.

It was only a matter of waiting for him to actually return home and to get your heightened nerves to stop firing in every direction in the meantime.

By the time you heard the door to the apartment creaking open, you’d nearly fallen asleep in the wicker swing chair. You swallow down the bitter taste of fear, ignoring the tumultuous waves it makes when it hits your stomach. You’d never get anywhere if you didn’t face him.

Carefully, you hop up from your seat and make slow strides into the apartment. It’s still dark in the house; you hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights earlier. Yet Xavier carries a lightness around him, mostly imagined by yourself, that makes him easy to spot in the darkness.

For a moment, things seem normal as he takes a few stiff steps forward. Suddenly, he falls forward, the white of his uniform nearly a blur with how fast he collapses onto the sofa, but it is nothing compared to the speed at which you rush to his side.

You call his name, press two fingers to his throat, and let your eyes slip closed with a desperate concentration as you search for his pulse behind the blaring red of his collar.

It’s a gradual pace, averaging twenty beats a minute and slowly rising. For anyone else, you’d immediately rush them to the hospital. For Xavier, that number is a relief.

You hold your hand to your pounding heart, practicing deep measured inhales to calm it. It appears he fell asleep as soon as he entered the room, with only enough awareness to kick off his shoes at the door.

It looks like your lecture will have to be postponed for another day.

You’re thankful for all the training you had to take to become a hunter because it takes an enormous amount of effort to throw one of his arms over your shoulders and drag him to his bedroom. You make a mental note to never let him question your ability to carry him again as you sit him on the bed and shuffle off his uniform jacket, leaving him only in his pants.

In a tender motion, you gently cup his face and examine him. Dirt cakes his face; and when you brush it away, there’s a small cut on his cheek. It hits you again just how reckless and secretive he can be, echoing with a bitter thought that he didn’t bring you again. The only bright spot is the little cut is his only injury this time.

Laying him on his back, you leave for only a moment to get a warm washcloth and an adhesive from the bathroom. It’s a blue band-aid with a cartoonish pink bunny on it, something a kid would love and has probably been collecting dust in the drawer longer than you’ve been alive.

It takes all the seriousness out of your body when you return, clean his face off, and place the colorful bandage on his cheek. It’s hard to believe this narcoleptic pretty boy was the strongest member of the Hunters Association.

“I didn’t think when we moved in together I was going to become a babysitter,” you commented with a little huff and poke of his cheek. “You’re terrible at taking care of yourself. Can’t cook. Can’t stay awake. Can’t tell someone when you’re going out. I bet you didn’t even lock the door when you came in. …What if a Wanderer floated in after you and trampled all the flowers, or did you just not want to leave any for me tomorrow?”

You know your complaints are falling on deaf ears as he cuddles up to his pillow without a care in the world. But if you didn’t complain, you’d get depressed instead. Dropping to your knees, you sit on the floor and prop your elbow on the bed to get a better look at him.

He looks so peaceful.

There’s no tension, no crease to his expression. It’d be easy to mistake him for a normal young man if it weren’t for the strong humming of his Evol tickling at the wall of your resonance.

“I’ll let you sleep, but you’re getting it in the morning! I expect answers. Otherwise, I won’t cook breakfast for you,” you attempt to sound threatening in your words with every poke to his cheek a not-so-silent promise to follow through. “I’ll take my missions with the new recruit all the ladies at work gossip about. And the next time I get a snack shipment, I’m letting Jeremiah have first pick!”

With one last prod to his face and no reaction otherwise, you stop your demands and sit back on your legs.

Bit by bit, you feel your energy dissolving. It’s no use. It’s all empty threats. You’ll probably not cook for a few days, eat in front of him too, at least until he gives you those puppy eyes, and you’ll fold just like origami paper. You’ll still save him the snack you know he likes even if you allow Jeremiah first pick of the rest. And you’d never be interested in the new recruit or anyone else.

Xavier can be distant and formal. For others, his hyper-independence was evident. Taking on missions alone and avoiding group settings is just the way Xavier’s personality works. He’s reliable and gets along with everyone at a surface level and he’s known to go out of his way to help others without seeking validation for it so it never ruffled any feathers when he goes off on his own or rejects an invitation to drink with the others after work.

They didn’t see. They didn’t see how easy it was to care about him. They appreciate him but they weren’t aware of how intensely and passionately he could feel when he unfurls that independent nature. How he always quietly adjusts his dominant foot to point your direction whenever a Wanderer appears. How his voice drops and his touch becomes the smallest bit more graceful and careful when he sees you upset. How sweetly he looks when he sleeps.

It makes your resolve crumble and your heart squeeze, something only he can do without even being awake to know it.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you mumble to him.

As you lean closer, you easily ignore the stirring in your gut that tells you to stop.

The bandage is a little rough against your lips as you seize the chance to kiss him. It’s a short and small thing, much more delicate than your prodding from earlier because you want to indulge the romantic in you. You want him to somehow sense the feelings cultivated in your heart over the past few months though impossible when he’s asleep.

You don’t let it last long. Instead, the desperate urge to feel his heat against you spurs you to rest your forehead against his cheek. It’s warm and soft, and the faint scent of pine trees of the no-hunt zone fills your nose. You savor being this close to him, allowing yourself to indulge in it until the heat on your skin starts to match his, and you finally let him have peace for the night.

With no need to remain in his room, you stand and pivot towards the door, wondering how you’ll manage to grasp any form of sleep tonight. However, you don’t make it two steps before there’s a tug at your arm.

You yelp as you’re pulled towards the bed while the shock has you stumbling forward into it. The hand leaving your arm in favor of grasping around your wrist stops you from falling completely but your knees have already buckled. You’re left nearly a head under him when he finally swings his legs over the side of the bed and shifts into a full sitting position. This position is oddly familiar. When you uncertainly force your eyes up to meet his face, this vulnerable angle becomes unmistakable.

His voice is husked and rasped from sleep, sending a chill up your spine when paired with the swirling shadows darkening his blue eyes under his hooded lids and dark lashes. That’s the look of a predator, of the association’s strongest hunter, and you face the inkling realization that you’re the prey.

Nervously, you begin to divert your eyes. He takes a page out of your own playbook and reaches under your chin to guide your sight back to him as you fight not to whimper at the pressure of his thumb pushing down as if he wants to part your lips. It isn’t until now that you notice how close you are to his lap and how another few inches would drop you to your knees.

“Why worry about Wanderers following me home when you’re so much scarier.”

“What do you mean?”

Memory has never been your friend. This though is the first time you’ve forgotten how to breathe when his fingers completely close around your wrist. His hold is firm, preventing you from wringing your way out of his grasp, but it doesn’t hurt.

He might as well take that grasp and use it to squeeze your heart instead when he brings your hand to his face. You’re unsure what he’s planning; the awkwardness of the situation makes your fingers straighten and twitch away as he holds your hand closer to his face. Sensing your trepidation, he closes the last of the distance instead by tilting his head into your hand with the same affection as always as he lets your fingertip brush against the silly little bunny bandage.

The familiarity of the motion puts your heart a little more at ease but not enough to bring your breathing back to you as he mumbles, “I don’t remember giving you permission to kiss me.”

Your lips part with a silent puff while your brows push forward, highlighting the confusion in your mind onto your face. He takes advantage of the moment to nuzzle your hand. It’s a notion you can’t appreciate as his words finally sink into your mind and reform into a horrifying conclusion.

“…You were awake the whole time.”

He chuckles so easily at the dry peep that echoes from you, the rivet of that warm sound collects in your palm and makes your face scalding hot. You didn’t face a burning heat like this even when fighting one of those flame dragons. All the while, Xavier was laughing at you…

“Not the whole time.”

With your head catching up, you find enough of yourself again to actually glare at him and smack his shoulder. “That’s not the point!”

With another display of strength, he locks your other wrist, pulls you up, and then snatches you into him. Luckily, you’re able to flatten your palms against his chest to brace yourself. His heart as well as his face is unnervingly calm compared to your own organ that’s currently orchestrating its escape from your chest, battering your ribcage even harder as you unconsciously stretch your fingers over his naked skin.

You don’t like this. This bullying, which you only describe as such because you can’t think of a word more fitting for the way he’s treating you, is too one-sided.

“It was on the cheek,” you argue with a steeled voice. You fake the confidence to stare him back down, choosing to trade your determination to confess to him tonight in exchange for preserving your pride. “It was friendly.”

To your satisfaction, your declaration of war makes him the one to pause this time. His eyes widen and there’s a quiver in those waves of blue that he hides by glancing down and away.

“…Is that what it was?”

You nod. “I wasn’t…going to do anything else.”

Xavier smiles, shaking his head, and there’s a new determination in his eyes that causes your teeth to clench down on the inside of your cheek as he leans closer.

“In that case, is it okay to return the favor?”

He doesn’t give you the time to answer. He’s already closing the distance, his dark lashes already fluttering, and his lips already puckering to kiss you as you’re squeezed flushed against him, only your palms stopping your chest from colliding with his.

“Wait!”

Hearing your disapproval, he pauses, but that cheeky grin still doesn’t dissipate.

“What's wrong?” he asks with a sigh. You’re sure it’s not a true question. “Am I not allowed to give you a friendly kiss as well.”

The implications make your stomach twist while your thighs squeeze together pathetically with the sudden throbbing of arousal that spikes through you as you tumble further and further into this rabbit’s trap.

“I—that’s!”

“So, you were misbehaving,” he concludes from your sheepishness. “I guess that means I need to punish you instead.” He breaks his hold around one of your wrists to ghost his fingertips along your cheek and down your neck until all you can do in response is breathe out a moan, much to his surprise given by the rise of his eyebrows and the slight dust of pink on his bewildered face. “…I didn’t think you were that sensitive there.”

Your mind swims with the traitorous thought of wanting to show him where you’re more sensitive dancing in your mind before you can sweep it away. When his fingers dance along your neck again, you whimper and hold in another moan.

“Don’t hold back on my account. You know my most sensitive spot after all, as hunting partners, it only makes sense for me to know yours, right?”

You can hardly think of a response to that. It’s true. You know his biggest weaknesses and as you come to terms with the situation you run your thumb over the plump inside of your thigh hesitantly. It takes you almost an entire minute to decide on what you want to say, and you don’t notice his hold on your wrist weakening.

“My weakness—”

Suddenly, your arm drops back to your side.

“I’m kidding,” Xavier states; the small smile he normally wears comes back to his face as you look up at him with wide eyes. “I was only curious as to what your reaction would be.”

The tension in the air wanes and buries itself in your heart. The embarrassment clings to every cell living in you, unshakeable as you try to keep a brave face. “You’re cruel.”

“Am I? You were the one touching me, all the while promising to run off with some rookie,” he reminds you.

“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t—you’re so frustrating,” you scream at him, and this is the first time he appears to take you seriously all night.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, with less teasing and more concern. He wraps an arm around your waist. His legs slot between yours, leaving your knees to collide with the plush of the bed as he hugs you tighter and tighter until you’re nearly seated in his lap. “Don’t be mad. I only thought—”

“Xavier?”

“Did you really mean it then?” he redirects. He snakes his other arm around your waist, this time when he holds you it feels…weak, and his pursed lips and narrowed eyes hold back a troubled emotion. “That it was in a friendly way?”

Your breath hitches at the swirl of his thumbs nervously circling the small of your waist. Nervously, he waits for an answer you long lost in the rapids of the constantly changing tides of the last few minutes.

“If you meant it…if you truly wanted to kiss me,” he pauses, trying to find his voice. The one to tell you that you’re all he thinks about. “Then you should have woken me up.” His face holds a serene glow that completely enraptures you as he looks up at you. “I wouldn’t have rejected you,” he swore.

He loved you so much it ached. Moving in together should have been enough to prove it. He guesses not; because when he thinks you want him back, you’re so hesitant to accept. Even now, you’re unable to respond.

This cycle has become painful, even for someone as patient as himself, the wait when you’re this close to him is agonizing. So, he decides now to be the one to end this circle the two of you found yourself in with one decisive motion.

He tests the waters, not knowing if he’ll swim or drown, but he has confidence in his ability to read your personality and actions as he cups the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss.

Your mind empties immediately, your body on autopilot when it registers the warm, silky skin of his lips on yours. Closing your eyes, you willingly tumble and fall into the taste of him, chasing after it when he breaks away.

“There. We’re even,” he says, but to you, that’s far from the truth. You’re far from even after all the heartache and sleepless nights he’s been putting you through, after all the push and pull that left you aching and wanting both in your heart and between your thighs.

The self-satisfied smile on his face quickly fades as you grope his shoulders, digging your nails in like you’re afraid he’ll escape. Your knees press to the top of the bed as you plant yourself more onto his lap. He braces his hands on your hips to catch you as you run your hand into his hair and crane his head back, so he has to look you in the eye.

His ears pinken at your sudden brazenness, but it doesn’t reflect in his voice as he smiles at you. “Are you trying to get more?”

“Am I being too greedy?” you ask. He chuckles at the jut of your lips and the pleading eyes before you press another demanding kiss to the corner of his lips.

Xavier moans from his throat as he latches onto your jaw to redirect your kisses to his lips. Kissing him is nearly maddening, the twitch of his muscular thighs under your ass making your mind hazy. With one hard squeeze at your hips, he catches up to the zealousness of your kisses.

His tongue pokes and prods at your mouth. However, he doesn’t need much permission to keep going as you open your mouth wider. His mind skips and lags at just how quickly your mouth overtakes the slick appendage. It leaves him more than a little out of breath and flustered with the rate your mouths keep parting and meeting, tongues desperately searching and licking the inside your mouths as if this is the first meal you’ve had in weeks.

You’re hungry to memorize each other despite having all the time in the world now to do just that. When the two of you finally indulged enough and earned enough satisfaction, you’re able to calm down and readjust the pace.

“I think we’re both greedy,” he jokes about the both of you before sliding his tongue back into your mouth. This time he’s slower as he presses down on your tongue, causing your teeth to lightly graze over the top of his.

There are too many sensations going on for you to keep up. The way your breasts hug his hard chest has you feeling sensitive while the heat seeping from his tongue stroking in your mouth has your stomach bundled in tight knots that won’t know release until he’s inside of you.

Dreams were nothing compared to this. Nights filled with nothing but inappropriate thoughts of him turn into nightmares at the slim chance of having to face them again should this go wrong.

Impatiently, his fingers curve into the hump of your ass to anchor you and encourage you to grind on his lap, or rather grind against the hard tent brazenly making its presence known with each hurried roll of your hips.

You whine from the separation of your sexes when he begins to lift you up, but your complaints quickly die in your throat. They’re replaced by a squeal as he flips you and your back bounces on the mattress.

Xavier climbs over you, his face flushed, breath ragged, and overall, he’s just absolutely beautiful to you. Reaching up, you cup his cheek and play with the ends of his hair, unable to recall the last time you’ve felt this high.

“Xavier,” you whisper breathlessly as you swoop his bangs back to see more of his handsome face and save it to memory. “What are we?”

Xavier tilts his head, furrowing his brow at your question, and there’s a second where a ray of doubt breaks through the clouds of lust in his irises. “We’re…whatever you want to be.”

“I want to be with you,” you say. Those words tumble out more effortlessly than you ever thought.

Xavier overlaps your hand with his, holding on tight as if to prove a point. “You are with me.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t,” he corrects. Then, he dazzles you as he always does, “I want you to tell me so there’s no mistake, and you can’t take it back later.”

You inwardly become embarrassed when it crosses your mind that this is the first time you’ve ever confessed to him without multiple drinks in your system. It’s too late to turn back now that you’ve crossed the Milky Way and landed on the other side.

But why would you when you’re so close?

“I want to be with you always. Whenever and wherever you are. Whether that’s having fun together or fighting. I-I love you, and—”

“And I love you,” he answers. You’re not sure if you’re jealous or relieved that he can say those three words without hesitation.

“I don’t want anything to be between us. I don’t want any more secrets or hidden things. I’m tired of this. I just want to be real, more than partners or roommates or whatever other title that isn’t boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Okay,” Xavier agrees as easily as he agreed to be roommates with you in the first place.

“Okay?”

“I want that too,” he agrees as he repositions himself on top of you and his lips curve into a small smirk, “girlfriend.”

You’re accustomed to the finicky organ known as your heart tightening with pain when you’re overwhelmed; this time when it skips a beat, it’s welcomed. Smiling, you gaze up at him as he releases a slow, strained breath. It’s validating to know he’s been just as nervous as you.

Everything suddenly becomes full force again when his knees move to either side of your legs while he pins your hands above your head in one tight fist. His teeth nip at your earlobe, and his free hand gropes at your breast, fingers outstretching to fully take it in his grasp. Wet kisses burn on your throat, each one firing off a rapid signal to arch your back.

“Slow down,” you whine before cutting it off with a moan as he hits a particular delicate spot. The discovery spurs him on, like a pet with a new toy, and he bites your nape once again causing your hips to jerk. With a burning desire building in your stomach at every touch, you pitifully hug your thighs together to try to ease it. “I didn’t get a chance to absorb all that,” you tell him, mostly to get some time to catch up. It backfires wonderfully as he grips onto the bottom of your tank top.

“I have a better way to help you understand.”

The sheets shift with his movement, your lower half dipping towards him as if he holds his own gravitational field. He settles between your legs and strokes against you with one slow, languid rock. It instantly makes you throb. It’s painful how hard you clench over absolutely nothing, panties gathering the lust that’s dripping from you.

You simultaneously hate and love him for causing this need that’s bubbling inside you.

Large hands press your shirt further up your torso. “Arms up,” he demands softly, which you have no problem obeying, and he quickly lifts your shirt over your head.

He lowers his hands to hold at your waist, and they fall still on you as he takes in your naked skin. You’re not privy to his thoughts. The silence of the room feels defean-ing now that your needy gasps of air aren’t filling it.

He pauses, eyes taking you in as you raise your eyebrows at his hesitancy. Xavier smiles, mumbling out, “Just thinking where to start.”

Xavier smiles at you so tenderly. Everything about him is incredibly soft on first appearance. He has big blue puppy eyes, he prefers white, cozy clothes, and his voice is just as gentle as his appearance. Everything about him is soft except for his hands.

Those are hardy and battle-honed, worn with calluses built up with every swing of the sword he’s taken since he was a child, enough of them to slay thousands of Wanderers over the years.

They drag.

Oh, they drag so dangerously slow over your skin, dipping into the pudge of your stomach and highlighting a small circle in the warm, buzzing glow of his Evol. The rays shine gold over your flesh, shimmering brightly in the dark of the room.

“Here,” he states before hunting down another spot on your torso. A beauty mark, like a beacon, earns the sharp eyes of a hunter. He zones in on the vulnerable location, creating a golden target. “Maybe here.”

You squirm with every mapped spot he creates. “Xavier.”

The residue of his power leaves your skin humming; you’re overly aware of each spot he highlights with his power. You like to think your senses would still be heightened regardless of this little game. After all, you’ve been wanting him to touch you forever.

Every night next to him felt like torture, being unable to touch him more than a hug when all you could feel on your back was his hard chest, his arm tight around your waist, and the outline of his cock against your ass as he sighed in your ear.

It runs through your head that he must have put more thought into touching you than you assumed as he continues to stripe lines over the top of your thighs right under your night shorts, making your breath heavy in your throat. You’re no longer sure if he’s marking you to tease you, to track what parts of your body he’s claimed for himself, or to simply make you laugh from the humming of his Evol tickling you like fuzzy static on an old tv screen. Even as he smiles at your shallow giggles, there’s no denying the aura of possession radiating from him that makes you antsy when he finally presses his finger to your sternum.

“Let’s start here,” he says followed by a soft hum as he tattoos a line straight between your breasts, leaving you highlighted in slowly fading graffiti.

“About time you decided,” you say with an playfully exaggerated roll of your eyes. He cocks his head at you with a sly smile.

“I can’t help if I want to touch all of you,” he murmurs. Any response you had ready dies when he licks the encircled zone of your shoulder then swiftly to the notch of your throat, drawing a moan out of you that you didn’t think you were capable of until you met him.

Tilting your head, you allow him more room to work as he kisses your chest. His warm tongue slips through the line he marked, his nose dragging against you as he litters your engorged skin with kisses.

“More,” you beg. Who was he to keep you waiting any longer?

He slips a fingerpad over the tip of your nipple, gently pressing down and then rolling it. It does nothing to satiate you. Satisfaction keeps escaping your grasp, the goalpost of what’s enough moving further out of reach with every pinch and pull of your pebbling nipples. Chasing it makes you brash, and you give a hard push to the back of his head.

Just as you want, he spoils you. He bites and nips the supple skin, drawing out soft pleas from your angelic lips. When he finally graces you with the slick, velvety lap of his tongue on your pert nipple, you mewl and arch. His lips are a little rough after being out all night, his hunger for you more palpable than ever as he gropes harder and sucks at your wet skin.

Your aching pussy throbs with every brush of his clothed cock. Your patience drains more and more as you crave something to fill you. It isn’t until he switches sides and gently nips and suckles around your other teat that you realize he’s been fingerprinting you with his Evol, the polka dots slowly fade away each time he adjusts his hand to knead your breast.

“You’re still being cruel,” you manage between moans.

“I think I’m being very fair,” he reasons, recapturing your lips to silence your complaints, and it works as your mind keeps repeating when his tongue makes a temporary reservation back in the confines of your mouth.

When he parts with you again, he cements it with a soft kiss then another. He keeps peppering them on you so fast that you almost miss the way his tongue darts over your bottom lip before his teeth bite down.

Xavier sighs between his kisses, each one adding more pressure, turning from loving, adoration-filled into needy, heavy smooches.

“Wanted.”

Another kiss that leaves you whimpering.

“To.”

He fondles your chest again, alternating between rolling and pinching your sensitive, puffed nipple then grasping your bare tits in his hands, molding and kneading them.

“With you.”

With your thighs closing at his waist, you curve your back and meet the sloppy buck of his hips. There’s a rush of excitement leaking from you when his kisses trail back over your breasts, hitting the tiny ring of bite marks he seared on you before tracing across the targets of light decorating your belly.

“So bad.”

Skin on fire, legs spread wide to accommodate his chest as he sinks lower to press wet kisses to your stomach, you call out to him. “Xavier, baby,” you whisper and brush his hair to get his attention. And does he give it to you when his eyes flick up to look at you from under the grey tuffs of his hair.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight.

You bring your finger to your lips, not only to pry them open so you can speak but also because you need to bite on it. Otherwise, the surge of lust in you at the sight of his head so close to your cunt and the back of your thighs resting on his broad shoulders would cause you to cum right there.

“My most sensitive spot…is my legs…”

It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, and he quirks his eyebrows up at you with false concern. He lowers his head to kiss your stomach again, this time noticeably closer to your mound. “Are you sure you want to tell me that in this situation? It isn’t wise for the prey to put themselves at a disadvantage.”

“I said no secrets,” you remind him, curling a finger to beckon him back up. Inwardly, you curse that he decides to bring your legs with him by keeping them propped up on his shoulders. Somehow, you manage to ignore his obvious teasing and poke at the cutesy adhesive still stuck on his face. “If you were listening, you should know you’re still in trouble for sneaking off so much without telling me.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” he tells you, a layer of remorse riding his explanation. “I wasn’t expecting to go anywhere.”

Amused, you shake your head at how boyish he sounds as he defends himself while he pulls off that wide and pleading look to bolster his cause. Even with your amusement, you’re not willing to let him off just yet. Sternly, you tap his cheek again.

“That’s not going to work this time.”

Pouting, Xavier holds onto your hand, stopping your playful jabs. “Please give me a chance to lighten my sentence, Miss Hunter, it was unintentional,” he negotiates with a kiss on your palm. The sincerity in his request eases your heart enough to allow him a little wiggle room, or perhaps it’s the slick trailing more between your folds.

“You only got until morning to make a case for yourself.”

“I’ll make you forget by then.” He snatches up your ankle towards his face, a much more pleasant position than your last, as your muscles were starting to ache from having your knees pushed to your face.

He caresses your ankle, pressing an airy kiss. The little bump of his nose against the ball of your ankle tickles, making a giggle cascade from your lips as you slide lower with the pull of your leg.

“Silly,” he mumbles before shuffling off your shorts. Your underwear comes off with more of a fight, the stickiness soaked into it causing the dainty fabric to cling lewdly to your skin and outline to the shape of your cunt.

You don’t often hear Xavier curse but that’s what happens along with his tongue rolling over his upper lip when he catches the image. He reaches out and his fingers twitch, threatening to curve against the spreading stain in your panties but he resists and hooks his fingers into the waistband. He takes his sweet time watching the doused material peeling from you with thin strands of cum sticking to it.

It takes him more effort than he’d like to admit to resist diving straight in. Instead, he keeps it slow, sensual, as much for his sake as yours as he skims his lips up your calf.

He does the same with your center, carefully pressing two fingers against you as he holds your leg up on his shoulder. His mouth stays on your inner thigh, but his eyes are entirely locked on his fingers and the way they effortlessly collect your cum and slip between your lips with barely a push. You can feel his breath shudder out against you before he forces it down with a bite of your thigh but that does nothing to hide the way his entire body tenses when his fingers slip from your clit all the way to your clenching hole.

It does nothing good for your ego or your sanity to think how normally calm and collected Xavier is losing his composure just by touching you. How he’s so obviously turned on when you haven’t nearly returned as much as he’s been giving you.

He presses his hands at the crook of your thighs, pushing your legs further apart, and quenches himself between your legs. His name leaves you in one low drawn-out sigh. Sure, you were baiting him when you told him your weakness, but you weren’t expecting him to abuse the knowledge so readily.

He held your legs blood cuttingly tight to keep you from squirming away from his wriggling tongue, and by the moan that reverberates from his chest and the strong jerk against the mattress when your juices hit his tongue, you think he would only be satisfied if you crushed his head between your straining thighs. When he suckles your clit; when his voice, muffled, hits your pussy; when his biceps tighten around your legs as if encouraging you to do so, and when his eyes meet yours with a silent demand, you know that’s exactly what he wants.

At the plunging of his fingers in you, you break down, catch his head in a vice-like grip, and push him into you. Your heart flutters and the remaining butterflies in your stomach migrate away at the growl he lets out. Your walls happily clench around those thick fingers, your dripping hole making it easy and smooth work to pump in and out of you. You’re not sure when he decides he would rather feel your muscle tightening around his tongue instead, but you can only respond with the tilt of your head back into the sheets and the stroke of your heel on his bare back when it happens.

The only thing better is his palm grinding down on your clit, alternating between slow rotations and rough sporadic grinding that has your toes curling and your eyes glossing with the buildup of tears.

“You’re too loud,” he comments yet he doesn’t stop, in fact, he presses down harder, making you whine. “You’re going to wake the neighbors.”

“Since when have you cared what the neighbors think?” you barely manage to whimper out.

“I’m not worried about them. I just don’t want anyone else to hear what only I should,” he remarks, lapping up the juices spilling down your legs.

His confession is a surprise to you. You never took him to be so possessive. But if that possessiveness is what kept his tongue swirling on your swollen clit and an intense moan escaping your lips then you didn’t mind.

However…

His fingers weren’t enough anymore.

Choosing to surprise him, you decide to turn the tables on him. You jerk your legs, catching him off guard but not enough to tip him over. He looks at you with concern. It doesn’t stop you from trying again with extra force this time until you can weaken his grasp and force him down on his back.

Having the world’s strongest hunter under you was only something you could dream of—first as a rival and now as a lover. The adrenaline has you tunnel-visioned as you straddle his stomach, your soaked cunt making a waterboard out of his abs, which Xavier has also picked up on if the dusky pink on his cheeks is anything to go by.

You grab his hands, gripping tight to regain his attention. Xavier looks taken back especially when your fingers interlock his and pin them back. Whether he’s shocked or curious you don’t know, and you also don’t ask to borrow his power.

“You’ve been having too much fun,” you tell him as you check to make sure your finger is sufficiently coated with light. “For my turn, I’ll attack here and here,” you whisper, marking off his chest and drawing a line across his neck.

There’s a hint of worry finally when he sees you’re aiming for his weak spot. “If you’re trying to teach me the best spot to kill Wanderers, I already know.”

“More like the best spots to defeat a Xavier,” you remark, flattening your palm over his heart, finding your own thumping when you verify that you finally managed to raise his heart rate to the levels of a normal human.

“You’re pretty forward today.” Xavier reaches out to hold your hips and cocks his head at you with an inquisitive glance. “Are you always this easy to excite or is it because of me?”

You feel your face heat at his question. As if he didn’t already know the answer. No one else could make you like this. Needy. Shy. Aroused. Flustered. Confused. Infatuated and in love more than you’ve ever been.

Your eyes soften. “And if I said it was you?”

“Then, you can use me all you want,” he confesses and gently coaxes you back to sit on his hard cock. You smoothly slide your hands to his shoulders, rotating loving strokes into his fair skin before you stop to free his cock from his pants.

It springs readily into your palm, so responsive. You reward him by letting him have a little taste of you. He tries to hide the hitch of his breath as if he could hide any reaction from you right now. It’s so hard to get him to react to anything, and your brain won’t let you miss a single moment as you sit back onto his lap and grind.

His cock slides between your lips, so big that you can feel it stroking you fully, his swollen, dribbling head making you whimper whenever it bumps your clit.

“You, you’re so—” he begins, his eyes flitting from the gentle shake of your tits to his cock glistening between your folds, but he loses his voice to a low whimper when you increase your pace. It’s not on purpose but you can’t help yourself; you’re aching for him just as much as he is for you. “Hah, please...”

His cock is leaking onto him with each sleek thrust, a little pool of precum glistening on his belly as your hips buck. It makes your stomach twist and your insides twitch to see him so excited for you.

“Not yet,” you tell him, brushing fingers across the length of his throat. His mouth parts with a croak that plasters a crooked smile on your face.

His eyebrows knit, and he frowns as you decide to tease him a little by slowing your strokes while your nails continue to follow the thick vein protruding from his neck as he desperately holds down his whines.

“And you call me the cruel one.”

He was gorgeous under you. Beautifully flushed and sheened with sweat. His lips were so close to quivering each time his swollen head was swallowed back under your heat. It’s strange how his pitiful expression actually excites you, leaving you wetter and funneling this cycle of him repeatedly scrunching his face before relaxing it with a moan.

“Please,” he asks again, this time more politely, pleadingly, and downright cutely. He knows what he’s doing because you decide to take pity on him when he gazes at you. “Please let me have you?”

It takes only a second for you to reposition yourself and hover over him. There’s a split hesitation when it registers that you’re actually going to have sex with him and how large he actually is with his cock standing tall and the tip kissing at your entrance. You press downward anyway.

The stretch is both painful and pleasurable, straining your nerves as you lower. The wince on your face is accompanied by a hiss on your lips. However, Xavier is there again to catch you.

“Let’s take our time,” he instructs.

You nod, slowly thrusting halfway onto him. Each rise and fall of your hips coating him with your cream little by little makes it a bit easier to sheath him each bounce.

“Good girl,” he whispers soothingly. Face constricting, he bites down on his lip to hold in a weak groan. It’s not your fault that the praise made your walls flutter and tighten.

When you finally suck him in completely, your eyes roll.

“There you go,” he continues. He slides his hand into one of yours, encouraging you to hold onto it as you slowly and pointedly follow the curve of his cock, “Just like that,” he rasps out. As you take him in fully, your pussy reaching his lap and pushing against his balls, you find it hard to concentrate on the exact words leaving him.

You take a minute to sit with him fully sheathed inside of you, allowing your stretched core to get more accustomed to his cock and also for the high of joining with him to cool off. Otherwise, you’d lose control.

You feel so full. It’s a wonderful sensation, and the pleasure increases tenfold when you lift your hips then have him stretch you again.

Rubbing your fingertips into the back of his palm, you lift and slam back onto him again, causing a ragged groan from you both that ricochets off the walls of the room. It isn’t until now that you recognize how bad you’ve been needing this.

Needed him.

You’re still nowhere near understanding why this need is inside of you. Anyone can give you pleasure, and he’s not the first, but nothing quite matched the warmth overtaking you when his cock pistons and rubs against your nerves as you ride him.

The thought that Xavier was right about fate being written in the stars barely breaks through the thick fog of arousal clouding your brain. The heat spurs you to bounce harder to meet his jerking thrusts.

He sighs under you; the pressure on his lower half increases while your eyesight blurs and your head angles back. You’ll both be each other’s undoing at this rate, he thinks, as he watches the beads of sweat accumulating in little shiny droplets on your forehead and on your bouncing chest in a light sheen.

Chasing that desire to see you undone, he pulls you to a halt, burying himself deep inside of you, before pressing his hand to your mound, brushing past the patch of damp hair to zone in on your sticky, swollen clit.

The instant whine of his name makes him dizzy. Centuries have gone by, and he’s never heard you say his name with such wanton desperation nor seen you grind onto him, stirring his cock in you as if your sanity depended on it.

His certainly depended on you. Always has especially in the many decades he thought he’d never see you again. That need is even clearer from how sensitive yet eager his cock is to you squeezing around it as you shudder on top of him while keeping an unbearably tight hold on his hand. Your movements come to a near stop except for the occasional rut to prolong the rush of your orgasm.

The sight of you breaking down on top of him threatens to make his eyes roll back as he squeezes onto your legs for grounding. Your strangled gasp followed by your muscles relaxing tells him that you’re coming down.

“I take it you’ve finished,” Xavier says with a smirk, and you only have half the mind to swat at his chest like a lazy cat. Your legs burn, your chest unable to fill with enough oxygen to catch your breath. You think you’ll skip the gym tomorrow but Xavier has other plans.

“I’m not finished,” he reminds you.

You look down at Xavier; you’d been so busy finding your own pleasure, you didn’t realize he hadn’t cum yet. You feel a lingering guilt but he swiftly takes the situation into his own hands.

You’re still too sensitive to fight back as he slides his cock out of you with a wet pop. It takes two swift movements for him to lift you off of him and roll you onto your stomach.

Your chest feels restricted, tight to the mattress as he presses on top of you, his grey-brown hair rubbing your shoulder as he cuddles your back. It’s an affectionate notion, distracting from the pressure in your lower half as he slides off the last of his clothes and thrusts his cock back inside of you.

You thought you were filled to the brim the first time, yet this angle was different. It felt much tighter, and the slightest shift of his hips had you muffling moans into your arms.

“I want to hear you,” he sweetly requests, yanking on your hips to raise your ass higher and pull you further away from the muffling effects of the bed. Your fracturing mewls mix into his grunts, both sounds washing out the sloppy, wet paps of his cock pounding into you.

His hand swoops down your bending back in one long soothing stroke before his head collapses onto you. His grunts are loud, tumbling right into your ear along with the slapping sound of his hips meeting your ass. Your legs feel like jelly, and the rest of your body becomes weightless as your mind only focuses on his cock recklessly burning its way through you.

Xavier’s breath rolls against your back along with his forehead as he buries you under his weight; his grip on your thighs tightens to an unbearable degree, leaving you to wonder if you’ll have marks in the morning.

You don’t really care if he does when he moans your name and heat fills you, spreading with each sporadic thrust until he finally bottoms out inside you one last time and holds until he completely empties.

Taking his time to enjoy the sensation, he waits before pulling out of you, making you whimper with the sudden void. Shakily, you collapse back into the sheets and flip onto your back with a sigh. His eyes are still half-lidded as he watches you; he chews briefly on his bottom lip, reminding you of the look in his eyes earlier.

“Xavier,” you question but he silences you with a kiss, which you tiredly return. His fingertips slide down from your knee to your thigh, and he teases your opening, the mixture of cum making it easy for him to stroke your still spasming pussy.

Xavier sighs against your lips before moving his kisses to the swoop of your neck. “You’re so beautiful and all mine.”

Your mouth parts with a dry moan as he slides thick fingers over your clit. It starts to ache from his touch but it’s hard to deny him, even as he tortures you with his methodic and precise rotations over the bead.

His name is on your mouth, each syllable heavy on your tongue. You leave garbled gasps in his mouth as he makes out with you while your hand draws down his chest, attempting to make a mental map of every twitching muscle and healed wound on the way down.

Your heart jumps with the twitch of his cock when you wrap your hand around it. There’s going to be no trouble getting him to rebound, you think. He’s already thickening again with the warm strokes of your hand and tracing of your fingers over the slowly beating vein lining the underside of his shaft.

Xavier doesn’t even let you finish exciting him before he rolls back on top of you and settles his head between your breasts. Between all the cum in between your legs and his half-hard cock, it isn’t as mind-numbing to have him inside you. What is different is to feel him twitching and growing inside you with his renewed thrusts.

You’re hiccupping by the time he pushes your legs back and starts to hit deep inside of you, leaving the corner of your eyes tearing. You’re overwhelmed with everything. The uncharacteristic amount of energy he possesses as his hips snap into you. How each powerful rock leaves tingles aftershock-ing inside you, ruining your chances to recover before he does it again. The heavy scent of sex mixed with pine overwhelms your nose. His sweaty chest blocks out any light in the room, sealing any notion that you can be distracted by anything other than him as he pushes up your knee towards your chest.

You’re quickly working up to your second orgasm; the painful cramping in your foot tells you it’ll be bigger than the last. You’re right. When you come undone again, it’s with a shrill sob. You’re too out of it to even register when he finishes until he starts kissing your neck again.

He’s still inside you, you realize once your mind finally lands back on earth. His cock is resting in the heat inside you, waiting for him to work the two of you back up again. You know that’s the goal when his thumb gently brushes over one of your nipples again. Your sore insides constrict and strain. You don’t think you could survive a third round.

“Xavier, please, no more.”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice dry and husky in your ear as he kisses under it.

“Too much,” you tell him, pushing on his chest to make some space between the two of you.

“I didn’t catch that,” he coos defiantly. When he notices that you’re being serious, he obediently pulls out of you. His kisses become smoother as he pecks your lips. “What’s wrong? Is it aching?”

You nod then puff your cheeks in frustration when you see the amusement on his face.

“It’s not funny!” you say, holding onto that angry, childish pout until his smile turns sympathetic.

“You’re right,” he agrees and shifts off you. Quickly, he locates his briefs on the corner of the bed. He steps out of bed and pulls them on. To your surprise, he leaves you, alone and cold.

“Where are you going?”

Xavier disappears without answering you and only the sound of running water gives you any sort of hint of where he might’ve gone. When he returns, it’s with a rag dangled in his hand.

“A boyfriend should help clean his girlfriend up after times like this,” he explains and leans over you; he presses the wet cloth between your legs; the rag is incredibly soothing on your bloated skin. It’s a blessing to your sore muscles as he starts to massage and clean you. “It feels better already, doesn’t it?”

“I guess,” you answer pitifully, grumbling a bit because the look on his face still seems like he’s teasing about your neediness.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s my fault you’re a little sore.” He’s definitely taunting you, but you don’t have the energy to fight about it. “All done,” he remarks, tossing the rag to a forgotten section of the dresser. He carefully climbs back on top of you, waiting for the moment your hand finds his bicep to guide him down next to you.

It isn’t the first time he’s been this affectionate, and it won’t be the last time. However, this time feels more special than any time you’ve slept together, and not just because you can feel the stickiness of his sex-clad skin against your naked body. Well, that’s part of the reason.

“Something on your mind?”

“Nothing. I’m really happy,” you explain.

“If it really makes you that happy, maybe we should do it more often,” he offers, and you pinch his unwounded cheek to punish him. Jumping back, he knocks your hand away and caresses his wounded face. “I’ll need another bandage if you keep doing that,” he complains weakly.

“You only have yourself to blame!”

Xavier sighs. “You’re always right,” he concedes, more so that he can cuddle you without fighting rather than actually agreeing with you, you fear.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Are you really doubting your boyfriend?” he asks. Heartbeat skipped, you clamp your mouth shut as he unfolds the blankets over the two of you.

It’s finally settling back into your mind that the two of you are a couple now. “I’m still…not used to it yet with you being that.”

“You will get used to it the longer we’re together. The same as I will.” Xavier sighs, happily so. “Although, we might run into the same problem again.”

You blink at him. “Why?”

Thoughtful, Xavier hums then explains, “First comes love then comes marriage as they say.”

He catches you off-guard once more. As always, Xavier is forever forging on ahead with little regard for convention. “Aren’t you thinking too far ahead?”

“Maybe,” he agrees but there’s no drop in his confidence as he smiles at you and draws his hand over your hairline. “But I loved you since we met.”

“Xavier, please,” you beg, finding your favorite place to hide your flustered face in the crook of his elbow.

He can’t help but laugh at you as he curls his arm around you. “Especially that,” he confesses and places one more kiss on the top of your head before inviting you to go to sleep.

You do, falling asleep against his chest less than thirty minutes later. For him, sleep is elusive for once as he mulls over the day’s events.

The word girlfriend on his tongue is sweet. The idea itself burns wonderfully in his chest, but it isn’t enough. He knows he still needs to wait a bit longer, take his time, your bashful response to his prodding was enough to tell him that it isn’t time yet. It’s hard not to rush when this is the closest he’s ever been to the one thing he truly wants.

Xavier guesses he’ll still have to rely on his dreams for a little while longer. It’s okay, he tells himself, it’ll work out this time. He’ll find a place to settle with you and have a quiet life, a place where he can see stars.

And this lifetime, when he asks you to marry him, he hopes you’ll say yes.

#xavier x reader #xavier smut #love and deepspace x reader #lnd smut #xavier love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads smut #notsfw #adelssmut

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philon-awards · 3 months ago

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Philon Awards 2024 Shortlist

(in alphabetical order of the title; shortlist based on the results of the nominations phase)

Short fic (word count under 10K):

And Filled With Tomorrows by Android_And_Ale

A Perfect Fit by ThereBeWhalesHere

Cherubim by vanilla_extract

Engineering a Fantasy by CampySpaceSlime

Fly Over My Grave Again by gunstreet

Harrekh t'Harrekhi by CampySpaceSlime

How to Win Plants and Influence Lizards by indeedcaptain

Seeing, Unseeing by Jenna Hilary Sinclair (JennaHilary)

The Mess Hall Incident (or why Bones really wants to eat his salad alone, thank you) by discorporating

The Sight of a Touch, or the Scent of a Sound by Moreta1848

Long fic (word count 10K-50K):

All Things Fall and Are Built Again by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin)

DESK JOBS by WerewolvesAreReal

How Do I Know He's Mine by HDDrabble

Hurt by ThereBeWhalesHere

Please Don't Take Him Just Because You Can by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin)

Space age country girl, stone cold miracle by thembonesthembones

the fine print, and other things james t. kirk doesn't read by onlyafterhours

the yeomen of the garden (and laundry) by cicak

Way from Within by gunstreet

Novella/novel (word count over 50K):

Bodyguard by BurningAmber

Grief as a four-dimensional figure by Moreta1848

I Shall Do Neither by onwhatcaptain

It's Not An Illusion by Borealisblue

mol-kur by uhuraprime

Quell the Cosmic Tides by Plus3Charisma

Regulatory Relations by indeedcaptain

The Exiles by Moreta1848

The rebel and the nerd by Moreta1848

The recitation of names by Moreta1848

Podfic:

Blood Fever (written by T'Lara) by 1lostone

I must confess (written by USS_Queertastic) by 1lostone

milk and honey (written by spaceisgay) by foundbyjohndoe

milk and honey (written by spaceisgay) by cookiemom6067

The 1,000 Hour Sleep (written by spqr) by cookiemom6067

Traditional art:

Alright mr Spock by knezidon

kiss by vanilla-phantoms

Parading with Pride by Purple_Enma

Spock's Tattoo by SButler (Shelley Butler)

Tender Hands by Purple_Enma (Tumblr post)

The Ritual by Purple_Enma (Tumblr post)

Digital art:

(untitled Spock nude) by spirk-my-love (Florian Gray)

By the Fireplace by lorvee

Captains' Gambit (comic) by lorvee (Tumblr post)

Commission for BurningAmber's fic "Bodyguard" by asyncamestel

Harrekh t'Harrekhi by Purple_Enma (Tumblr post)

Mess by eldar_of_zemlya

Morning Sex by nightcrawler1

TALKING TO GHOSTS by emilinqa

Vulcan's Forge by CelestialVoyeur (Tumblr post)

Poetry:

all of me, unguarded by indeedcaptain

blanket me by USS_Queertastic (BoldlyQueertastic)

Shared Space by CelestialVoyeur (poem is chapter 6 in a collection of poems)

The Curious Case of Captain Kirk by CelestialVoyeur (poem is chapter 5 in a collection of poems)

to have and to hold by CateAdams

Zines:

KiScon 2023 Official Zine (editor: 1lostone) (download link)

Wild Heart – A NSFW AOS Spirk zine (editors: borbtrek, remylebae, nicbutnasty) (download link)

You can also see the shortlist on this Google spreadsheet. Make a copy to have your own spreadsheet to keep track of what you've already read and how you liked it.

Voting will open on 10 September 2024! Stay tuned for the announcement. You can also find this shortlist plus the rules and explanations concerning the voting process on the KiScon website.

#philon awards #kirk x spock #space husbands #spirk #star trek #kiscon

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laguezze · 5 months ago

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PAC: A letter you're meant to receive

I'm baaaaack~ (kinda) (pretty casually, life's been tough)

As always here are the rules:

Minors DNI

Don't take everything to heart, this is a general reading! Take what resonates!

It's honest, I don't sugarcoat. If you're not liking what you read, keep scrolling! It may not be for you or you may not be ready for that message yet!

Let's take a look at the piles!!!

Pile 1

Pile 2

Pile 3

Let's go!

Pile 1

Signs this may be for you: unicorn, South Korea , the letter S, Squirrels, Love, Skydiving, birthday, anniversary, 12, 6, 16, 2006, 2001, 2026, 1970s, Billie Eilish, John Lennon, glasses.

Dear ____,

How could you think I'm not proud of you? How could you think that minor thing you did would erase all the love I feel for you? It doesn't. I don't think anything can at this point. You're human, you're allowed to make mistakes. And while I do still think you need help, you're still doing your best, even though you don't feel like it. You're trying and I see that. You're wonderful and magical and although your light is dimmed at the moment, I know there's a bright sun under that blanket of darkness you're currently holding over your head. Everything will be ok. Have you ever not gotten a resolution to your conflict? Trust me. You're going to be fine. Let yourself be, enjoy the people around you, breathe. Treat your life like you treat your dreams. Be as excited as you can. You're alive! And while you are not responsible for this darkness that has been placed upon you, you are the only one that can take it off. I understand it's difficult, but you can do it. You're tired of fighting, but you're not just anyone. You're a legend. Legends don't have it easy. Go get them.

Pile 2

Signs this may be for you: Harry Styles, Fashion school, blood drives, nurse, 😜, smoke, laughter, blonde, blue eyes, "that boy is mine", 0%, Rihanna, water, rain, Hawaii, Jumping, Rave, Cindy, the letter C, N, and A. Numbers 5, 8, and 30, AMANDA.

Hello, it's been a while.

How are you?

This is awkward, you probably didn't expect to hear from me. I have been okay, I honestly can't stop thinking about us and how it ended. It pains me to think that you left with the impression that I didn't care. I do. I did. I just want to let you know that in another life, maybe we should try again. I don't have much to say, I'm not sure why I feel so compelled to tell you this. It's so basic. I'm being channeled right now (ok aware) and it's weird because it shouldn't be this deep but I really wanted to come through and say sorry. And say that I know you miss me and I do too. And one day we will reunite and we might be able to show our love then. Sorry it ended that way. Sorry that was the last you knew of me. I think of you each day, I dream of you each night.

Pile 3

Signs this may be for you: YES GIRL, happy, cheerful, spaghetti, squash, "I'm allergic", ibuprofen, love is in the air, matchmaker, fruits, VSCO, musically, Harmony, dating apps, Jenna, Lisa, "I stan", Twitter account, laughs, pigs, 25, 23, 2022, 2001, 2000, Beyonce.

Wow, am I impressed with you,

Not only are you grown and beautiful, you're also such a good person. I'm immensely proud of you. You're doing exactly what you need to, you're living life to the fullest and I am here for it. Remember our trips to the beach? I miss you. You should call more often. I love that you're meeting new people and having fun but sometimes I need to see you and hear from you. Please call me from time to time. I know I may seem clingy, but I just miss your presence. I also don't know when I'll actually see you next, you've become so unexpected and exciting. I love you, that's why I need to hear from you. Tell me everything, I'll listen. I'm here for you and I want what's best. Come back from time to time. Please. That's the only thing I ask of you at this time. I can't say this to you normally, you'd get uncomfortable. But please listen and take this opportunity. Let's talk more often! I wanna be part of your life again! 🥰

Hope it resonates! 💕

#tarot readings #tarot #free readings #tarot blog #pac tarot #tarot pac #pac #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a pile

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house-of-lovin · 2 years ago

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legally binded - 5

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 5: Strobe Lights and a Strong Drink

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: Oof, what do you guys think? Thanks for reading and all the support guys!

Word Count: 6k+

Shit.

She kissed you.

She didn’t know why she kissed you.

Her fingers trembled even when you were gone minutes later. She brought the shaky fingers up to touch her burning lips, ignoring her sisters’ amused yet quizzical stares.

This whole week with you at her parents house has been nothing short of blissful. It was almost like domestic how you two acted around her family. Unspoken touches and longing stares.

She doesn’t know what to make of it.

All she knows is when she turned to wish you luck, her stomach churned at how delicately you were looking at her.

But before Jenna can think on it some more, her sisters are pulling her away to find a good spot for your performance; Mia, asking passersby which stage people had flocked to.

You didn’t tell her who you were performing with so they didn’t know where to go. Jenna had forgotten to ask.

“Do you know what time she’s going on stage?” Aliyah asks, holding the actress's hand firmly.

“No…” Jenna replied.

“Okay, do you at least know which stage?” Mia asked.

“No.”

“Do you guys ever talk or do you just share silent looks all day?” Mia sighs, fishing for her phone.

Jenna blushes. “I’ll text Link and ask.”

—

She’s buzzing with excitement but she’s impatient. It’s been two hours since you left her.

Jenna keeps sending texts asking when you are coming out to perform but of course, all you do is tease.

You: Stop being impatient, you’ll see soon ;)

Jenna isn’t sure if her suspicions are true but people around her are talking about a surprise guest for Metro Boomin’s set but she doesn’t remember having heard if you had worked with the producer before.

This could be the song you were working tirelessly over this last week.

“Do you think it’s Y/N?” Aliyah asks, peeking her head past the others in the crowd.

They can practically feel the excitement as the music pumps loudly through the gigantic stage.

“I’m not sure.” Jenna shouts, “This is a good set though!”

“Yeah!” Her sister agreed, pulling her to dance.

The cheers get louder when the song finishes, setting up to transition to the next one; the crowd is amped with anticipation.

“Everyone, give it up for The Weeknd!”

The crowd explodes as he comes out in an all-white jumpsuit and blacked-out sunglasses.

“Give it up for Metro Boomin, Coachella!” He praises as he comes out; talking to the crowd as they cheer audibly.

Jenna feels disappointed that it wasn’t you but is still excited when she sees the familiar face. Her sister Mia is practically jumping in her spot, he's one of her favourite artists.

“Jen, come on!” Mia laughs, tugging her closer to the stage, smiling largely.

She fights the urge to pull out her phone and text you again.

10 minutes go by of The Weeknd performing and Jenna’s enjoying herself; forgetting about you for a moment as she dances with her sisters; taking pictures and videos; allowing the music to consume her.

The Weeknd performs well and the crowd is evidently loving him.

Eventually, the music quiets down and the singer starts speaking.

“Can we play some new shit for a second, Coachella?” The crowd screams, excited to be the first to hear a new song. “Alright… then make some noise for Y/N motherfucking L/N.”

A synthesized deep reverberating beat drops and strobe lights flash blindingly in Jenna's eyes making her squint as you ascend through a cloud of thick fog from backstage.

Her jaw drops.

When Jenna gets clear sight of you, she knew you were a sight to behold. "Wow..."

The outfit you are wearing hung off your figure so well and so tight that Jenna wouldn’t be surprised if she was drooling. The heeled boots paired with it give you height accentuating the rest of your clothes well. You changed your hair and makeup and suddenly she understands why everyone she has spoken to has been enamoured by you.

“Woah…” Aliyah trails off, in awe and then turns to her sister with an amused smirk watching her sister's comically enormous round eyes as she continued to stare at you.

You looked like a superstar on that stage.

At first, she thought Link called you that as a joke but as she watched you walk to centre stage, she understood why.

You start singing and Jenna thinks she can pass away now. She can barely hear you as the crowd starts freaking out when seeing you. A sea of phones are immediately pulled out to capture the rare moment of you on stage. Jenna feels like the ground is shaking as the crowd gets ridiculously noisier the longer you sang the unfamiliar words along with the melody.

The beat drops again and Jenna watches as you bounce around on stage with the largest smile plastered on your face as you expertly performed with the other singer.

That's when Jenna felt it.

She knew it then.

Fuck.

She’s so screwed.

—

“Thank you so much for having me Coachella! It's been such a blast!” The crowd screamed thunderously prompting you to painfully clutch your in-ears when you hear just how deafening the audience was now that the backing track wasn't playing.

“Oh shit,” You wince.

You feel loved as you look at the vast and far ocean of blinding lights. This feeling never gets old. It’s been a while since you’ve been on stage; taking a step back to focus on film. When your good friend asked you to do a surprise performance, there was no way you were going to say no.

“You killed it!” Abel laughs in your ear, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Thanks!” You say bashfully, leaning into the embrace.

“Everyone, give it up for the King of Coachella and Metro Boomin!” You praise, pulling away to yell into the mic, smiling wide and large.

For a hopeful moment, you scan the crowd, trying to find Jenna knowing she’s watching you somewhere.

Somehow, you spot her past the masses immediately.

Like a moth to a flame, you find her through the faceless crowd. Jenna had her hands cupped around her mouth as she cheered for you, trying to peek her head above the others. She drops her hands, landing back on the balls of her feet when you make eye contact and just smiled at you proudly.

As if time stops; you and her just stare at each other for a couple of seconds.

Longer than usual.

Longer than necessary for this PR relationship.

You have no doubts that videos of you and Jenna’s stare-off will be trending by tonight when you see people swinging their arms to pan between you and the other actress when they see your line of sight.

Briefly, you hear mutterings of people in the front row saying Jenna’s name and pointing; getting louder.

You blink, realizing where you were and wave goodbye one last time, steadily springing off stage — itching to get all the eyes off of you.

“That was great Y/N!” Link smiles, hugging you immediately. “Did you hear how loud the crowd was? Holy shit!”

“Thanks, Link… and yeah that was crazy.” You laughed appreciatively, the high of performing and having tens of thousands of eyes on you was starting its comedown. “Come on, I’m dying to get these boots off… no matter how pretty they are.”

“Don’t let your stylist hear that. She was excited about the boots — talked my ear off for 10 minutes.” He rolled his eyes, leading you to a tent backstage.

You follow him, ducking and nodding your head in appreciation as people cheer and compliment your performance.

“Yeah, she does that.” You chuckle.

“So what was that?” He asks lowly.

“What?”

“That kiss.” He looks at you sternly.

“Oh. I’m not sure. She just pulled me in.” You answer honestly, not really having the words to describe it yet.

You’ve been pulled left and right as you got ready for the performance.

“Can you sound anymore like a guy? Give me details how was it?” He leans in.

“I—I don’t know.”

“What do you mean I don’t know. She kissed you! That has to mean something! Maybe you two can finally say goodbye to all that weird silent pining you guys have going on.” He wrinkled his nose in memory of how often he caught the two of you staring into each other’s eyes or swinging hands as you walked in tandem.

The two of you are the very definition of oblivious.

“It’s not pining.”

“Call it whatever you want.”

You sigh, “I don’t really know what it means, Link. It’s just a kiss, it might not mean anything to her..”

“To her?” He takes special note.

You roll your eyes, swinging open the flap of the tent. “Yes for her.”

“What did it mean for you, then?” He turns his back to face the wall as you rapidly change.

“Why do you care so much? When was the last time you were on a date?” You huff; tugging the leather boots off your feet. “Did you try that dating app I told you about? I promise it won’t be like last time.”

“Don’t change the subject.” He growled deeply.

You’re no longer allowed to set him up on dates after that experience.

Huffing, you give in, “I’m not really sure what it meant to me, yet. It all happened so fast but… I don’t think I hated it.”

“Mhm.” You were like a toddler learning to walk. He had to slowly coax you as you learn to do things; like talk about your feelings. “So, what do you wanna do?”

“Do? Nothing, why would I do something?”

“God, you’re dense.”

“Dude!” You throw your hands up.

He rolls his eyes, “Yes, you should do something! Did you not see the way she was looking at you?” He asks confused.

How did you not see how you two looked at each other?

“I–I, maybe. But I don’t wanna read into it.” You admit.

“That look from her seemed like it meant something, I don’t know.”

“What? No way.” You wave off, despite your heart darting wildly in your chest at his words.

You don't want to get your hopes up.

“Dude, I’m this close to knocking you out. I don’t care who you are.” You hear his loud puff echo in the room. “Why is the thought of being with Jenna so bad to you? You guys are practically acting like you’re together – you’ve been sharing a bed with the girl when there’s a whole mansion here in the Valley for you. You even started doing chores around her parent’s house Y/N... In all my years of knowing you, you have never even turned on the dishwasher at home. Be honest with yourself for once, really.”

“How do you know about the chores?” You peek your head out the divider, sending him a confused look.

“Jenna… who else. We talk, you know.” He says, back still facing you.

“What do you guys talk about?”

“None of your concern.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing out long and tired.

“We’re both so busy all the time, there’s no way it’ll work. Do you remember the last person I tried to date? I don’t want that with Jenna. ” Link shudders; he‘s had his fair share of close calls with filing a restraining order… given your history of flings and relationships.

“They’re all either psycho or it just ends up crashing in flames. I don’t want to have to show up at an award show and awkwardly smile at Jenna, pretending like I don’t know her. Or have a song or movie made about me.. again. I knew this PR stunt was bad news.” You shove your head in the t-shirt, feeling much more comfortable in the soft, loose fabric.

“Okay, you don't mean that. Don’t you think you’re –I don’t know–overthinking this a little? Also, I don’t see Jenna as the songwriting type. Maybe an essay about you?”

“Are you done?” You scoffed at the timing of his joke, stepping out from the wall divider. “Also, I think what I said was very reasonable.”

“I’m just saying, maybe she’s different.”

“I doubt it.” Much like your lyrics; you were just as much a pessimist.

But you know you’re lying — you felt instantly just how different she is from anyone you’ve ever met before.

You just didn’t know it could develop into… this.

Even through thousands of people, you managed to find her from that stage.

Jenna has an omnipotent pull on you that was getting harder to evade.

Something tells you the harder you try to yank away, the tighter the leash will start to feel.

You hated feeling suffocated.

“Y/N.” He says disapprovingly. “You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t know, maybe I do.” You try to appear indifferent; looking away from your best friend to find the matching sweater to your pants.

“Hey. I’m serious. Don’t shut yourself out from the potential of something good just because you’re a little scared.”

“That’s not what I’m doing, Link.” You grow annoyed.

When were you going to get some time for yourself? Without someone questioning you or bombarding you?

"Really? Cause it sounds to me like you're a little scared. I mean, think about it. How different would it be if you two actually dated? Everyone already thinks you're together and you've already been travelling apart for work. Not to mention... you two already act like a couple. It's crazy that you don't see it."

"What?" You look at him bewildered. "No, we don't. It's all for the cameras."

"Dude, it's me. Who are you trying to bullshit? Even Enrique won't stop talking about you two. And you know that guy’s around Jenna all the time.”

You scoff, "That—that doesn't mean anything."

"Please, " He holds a hand up, "I can't handle this today, I'm clocking out. Jenna can deal with you now." Then turns and walks out of the tent.

You huff, not wanting to think about his words.

You could play the fool and say that you have no idea what he's talking about. But you see the longing glances from the other actress.

You pretended not to notice her stares when you were around her family this past week. When her dad was complaining about his car not starting so you offered to look at it for him; a chance for you to get to know her dad a little more (if people asked you, his constant silence still kinda scared you). Or when you were the only one who could get her niece to calm down after fussing that one afternoon. Or when you played basketball with her brother Markus – trying desperately not to trash-talk and cuss out the young, competitive teen.

You get the point, she was always watching and you’re not dumb. You definitely see it; the little hairs on the back of your neck always stand when she’s near. Like your own version of Spidey-senses but with… Jenna. But that doesn't mean anything?

The two of you are at her parent’s house – she’s bound to be around.

Maybe she was drunk? You did order some cocktails throughout the night and she’d begged you for a couple of sips — even offering to hold it for you when you saw some friendly faces amidst the crowd. You may have indulged her. Hey, she's drank before, you know she can handle her alcohol.

Yeah, that has to be it right? Just the high of the crowd and the buzz of a strong drink.

You certainly felt like you needed one if you had to face Jenna soon.

Walking over to the bottle of tequila gifted to you by the producer’s team, you pop the top off and grab a shot glass. You pour yourself a generous shot and immediately down it, wincing at the burn it leaves in your throat.

You pour another one and another one before you feel like you've had enough — you're taking too long in here.

"Hey, there you are!" Jenna's voice exclaimed behind you after the sound of a tarp being pulled open.

You turn, surprised, still holding the shot glass and bottle of Don Julio 1942.

She perks a brow up, amused. "Celebrating alone?"

"We live alone—"

"We die alone. Orson Welles. Somebody to Love." She cuts in.

"Snob." You laugh then turned and grabbed another glass. "Want one? I won't tell."

"Yes." Jenna grinned and walked closer. "Why does no one ever talk about the second part of that quote?"

"There's a second part?" You wrinkled your nose in confusion.

"Yeah, only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone." Jenna quotes, grabbing the shot you held out for her.

"Oh... that's sweet I guess." You place the bottle down, turning to her; ignoring the added meaning behind her words.

"Yeah, it's one of my favourite quotes." Jenna clinks glasses with you.

"Salud." You raise the glass, tap the table and then take the shot heartily.

"You're a dork." Jenna coughs out, wincing at the burn.

"It's customary, darling." You reply teasingly, pulling out a posh English accent.

Jenna laughs a little too hard at your joke, crinkling her nose. "Is that the Little Women accent?"

You blink, taken aback. "You've seen my movie?"

Jenna reddens. "Yeah..." coughing, "like five times. It got you an Oscar nomination."

"That's cute." You grin, heart practically leaping out of your chest.

"I thought I was supposed to find you?" You remembered.

“You were taking too long… and there’s a steady crowd waiting to congratulate you outside but... I wanted to be the first one.” She looks down, kicking the carpet with her booted toe.

You grinned, “You liked it?”

She glanced up, laughing, “Liked it? You were amazing! The crowd was so loud, I definitely lost some of my hearing… I think my Mia and Aliyah might even want you as a sister instead.”

You laugh, shrugging. “Thank you, Jenna… but nah, I think the one they got is pretty cool too. They’re lucky to have you.”

She smiles up at you. And like earlier, you find yourself getting lost in her soft, kind eyes. You two have come a long way since that first meeting…

A part of you thinks, how it feels nice to have someone waiting for you backstage after a performance. Someone that doesn't work for you.

"Hey, so um— are we gonna talk about it?" You gain the courage to ask. Usually, you'd beat around the bush, hating confrontation. You're probably the first person to take a hike at the sign of an inconvenience. But this is Jenna.

Your Jenna.

She had kissed you.

Somethings you can brush off and forget, but not this. You find yourself not wanting to do so, so easily either. Something tells you that it's a memory that'll stick with you for a while, if not forever.

You could probably get Alzheimer's and you still won't forget you and Jenna under the strobe lights and rip-roaring crowd.

A tiny part of you held onto the hope that she’d say she meant it but you would never say that out loud.

"Yeah, I guess we should. Um— did you hate it?" She bit her lip in question.

"Did you?" You cowardly cop-out.

She rolls her eyes, smiling a bit but taking the bait and stepping closer to you. "Not really no..."

"Me too." You blurted and Jenna looks pleased.

"Good." Stepping closer. "Do you think, we can, I don’t know maybe do it again?" She whispers, looking up at you.

"Maybe..." You breathe out; arms stiff by your sides as she leans into your personal space.

"Maybe?" She cocks a coy brow, smirking. "You gonna make me work for it?"

She runs her fingers up your hands to your arm to your shoulder before resting them on your neck. A trail of goosebumps litters your skin.

You bit your lip, not missing how her eyes followed your movements. "I—uh,"

"What? Did I finally make you speechless?" She scrapes her nails against the back of your neck as her other hand rested on your stomach anchoring herself. "If I knew all it had to take was kissing you to shut you up I would've done it a long ti—"

You cut her gloating off, pushing your lips firmly to hers; tightly gripping her sheer button-down shirt. You pray a thousand blessings come to whoever bought this shirt for her because the way her skin burned through the fabric had you clutching her tighter than ever.

She groans against the sudden pressure but melts against you; pulling you down by the hand on your neck; kissing you back. Jenna tilts her head to the side, allowing you to slip your tongue past her lips and into her mouth.

When you traced your hand down her back relishing the way she shuddered under the touch — you made sure to stop and toy with the hook of her bra, just teasing before shamelessly moving your hand on her waist; lower than what should be considered modest for a second kiss.

But you don't care because Jenna is in your arms, kissing you back with the same intensity and for the first time, you feel all the tension between you and her fizzle away.

Like two teenagers who finally managed to find some time alone —she's slotting her leg in between yours making you flinch back.

"Mhmm. Jen not here." You mumble against her lips.

"Sorry, sorry. I got carried away." She blinks, unwrapping herself from you.

You laugh, tugging her closer. "I didn't say move."

Jenna gulps at your tone, feeling flushed. "Okay..."

"We should definitely talk about this though, right?" You sighed, leaning your head on top of hers. Jenna leans into your chest.

"Yeah probably. But this is nice too." She wraps her arms around your waist. She decides she likes the way the curves of your waist made a perfect mould for her arms to rest on.

She looks up, chin on your chest to link eyes. "Maybe it can wait until we're home? My sisters are still waiting outside..."

You look down at her, gently smiling. "Yeah, at home."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Okay." She pulls herself away; linking hands to tug you outside.

But she stops walking just before she can open the flap, promptly spinning on her toes and pulling you down to kiss you again. You only hear her satisfied sighs fanning against your skin.

Then she's pulling away too fast for your liking. "Now we can go."

You can't help but grin ear to ear at that.

—

“The Weeknd, really? I guessed him.” She grumbles from beside you as you two walk back to her sisters.

"I told you, he's a friend. We’re working on some of the soundtrack for his new HBO show." You chuckle, swinging your arm over her shoulder to link hands and tugging her close; wanting to feel closer to the young actress.

"The Idol?" She perks up, having heard about the show.

"Mhmm. Just the music." You hum and Jenna wants to laugh at how nonchalant you sound. How did you have time to do music, act and play your part in this PR relationship? "I composed the arrangement of the song."

"What? That's so cool, I actually want to get into composing." She mentions excitedly.

"You're gonna have to come by the studio sometime then, maybe I can show you a couple of things." You grin, eyes tinged with interest.

"Maybe... but don't change the subject, I guessed The Weeknd." She squeezes your hand, mulling over the idea.

"What do you want? A reward?" You chuckle.

"Yes." She mutters.

"Okay. What would you like? I have a lot to offer?" You say teasingly as you approach her sisters.

But Jenna doesn’t say anything, just takes her free hand and wraps it around your neck to pull you down; connecting your lips in another sensible kiss. You couldn’t fight the sigh that leaves your nose when you feel her tilt her head to the side; deepening the kiss.

Multiple bright flashes breaks your moment.

"Mia! Aliyah!" Jenna glares as they keep smiling.

"What?" Mia asks pretending to sound confused, "Oh shit, these are kinda cute, Jenna you might want this."

Jenna grumbles under her breath, embarrassed and tugged you along to stand a fair distance away from her sisters and closer to the stage.

"Send me those!" You manage to yell before she pulls you out of earshot.

"You two are a match made in heaven." She stands in front of you, leaning against your chest with your arms wrapped around her waist— like before you were pulled away from her to perform.

"Is that jealousy I hear, Ortega? I already told you, there's only one that I care enough to impress. You place your head over her shoulder tugging her close.

Not even the humid desert heat can keep you from wanting to feel closer to the other actress. Jenna seems to be just as comfortable as you so you don't pull away.

"Mhmm. Just checking." She traces a finger over the arm steadily wrapped around her midsection; sending shivers down your spine.

—

“A wedding dress?” You perk up, scanning yourself in the mirror. The Prada x Thom Browne custom gown made just for you made you feel like a Disney princess; hints of gothic design and golden tassels hung haphazardly on the train of dress as it’s still in its work-in-progress stage.

“Mhmm.” Your stylist mumbles, watching the fabric flow down your figure. “With its own flair, this is just the base of the dress. We’ll be adding more details to match the theme.”

“It’s stunning but why this?” You ask, twirling on the podium making the seamstress and tailor scowl beside you.

“To match Jenna, darling, what else for?” She says like you’re stupid — which in hindsight, you might be. But hey, it’s been a long week.

"What is she wearing?" You couldn't help but ask.

She snorts an obnoxious laugh, "Nice try sweetie. You'll see what she wears on the day. Thom would also kill me.”

"I thought you worked for me." You grumbled.

“Not for the Met — I don’t. I’ve seen that tiny girl’s wrath. I’ll deal with you over her.”

After Coachella weekend, there was no 'going home' and 'talking about it' with Jenna because you were already being pulled by Link in the other direction by the end of the night. Telling you about how you need to drive back to L.A. to pack for New York, once again.

Sometimes you felt like you were living most of your life on planes.

This meant you had to leave Jenna (and your dog with her) behind in California as you prepare for the annual fashion gala — where this year, you were tasked with the honour of co-hosting among a panel of other stars and Anna Wintour.

Jenna made sure to send you daily updates on their daily walks. You might have saved a couple of those photos… but as of the last few days, you hadn’t heard from the other actress.

"Now go, Link wants you back in your hotel room to go over your duties for the Met." She holds your hand as you step off the podium. The rest of your fashion team scattered off to their own respective corners; taking notes.

"Thank you, darling. It's always a pleasure to work with you." You say appreciatively.

"The pleasure is all mine." She kisses both of your cheeks before ushering you to a room to change.

—

“Hey, you gotta see this.” Link says as soon as you walk into your hotel suite.

“What is it now?” You ask, sliding in to see what he was looking at.

‘Y/N caught with cocaine? Rumours of a possible arrest. Will this be the end of this young star’s career?’

“How did they find out about the coke?” You grabbed the phone out of his hands, re-reading the article for a possible source.

“Not sure. But Liv has her suspicions. She said she’s looking into it and not to worry. Lawyers are saying they don’t have basis to charge you. Some people don’t believe it but you know, people love to stir shit up.” He watches your creased forward. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“How can I not worry about it? They’re drug allegations, lawyers are involved. Jake said that part wouldn’t get out to the press because they weren’t mine. He promised.” You give the phone back to him and start pacing the room.

“Hey, hey. Jake and Liv are handling it and Sarah is already in talks of tracking down whoever the possible source is.”

“Sarah… Sarah’s involved.” You mutter.

“Yeah? This kinda affects Jenna too.” He shrugs.

“Fuck. Fuck Jenna knows…” Your eyes widen in realization. Is this why she hasn’t reached out?

The two of you haven’t had time to talk these last few days. She’s been busy with her family and her Dior event while you’ve been on the East Coast prepping for the MET.

Does she know?

“I’m not sure. But if Sarah is involved. Good chances are… Jenna’s heard about it ‘cause she’s been warned.”

“Fuck.” You groan into your hands.

“Does Jenna not know?” Link asks confused.

“I don’t know what she knows, to be honest. I think she might have heard about the coke in the beginning but Jake and Liv made sure to keep that part under wraps. Only my drunken disorderly got out to the press. I–I’m not sure if Jenna ever knew it was true…”

“Y/N, it’s okay. It’s Jenna. I’m sure she’ll understand once you two get a chance to talk.” He places his hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk about that night, Jake. Especially not with her. It’s not exactly my best moment…”

“Well… I feel like she’s gonna have questions, regardless.” He walks off to the kitchen.

You head to your room to nap away the bad news you just got.

Met Gala duties can wait.

—

“You'll look great beside Jenna."

“Where is she, Enrique?” You tugged on the base of the dress.

“In her room.” He plainly answers, brushing down any wrinkles.

“Can I see her? I need to talk to her.”

His eyes flicker up to you, stopping his fretting. You don’t miss the slight judgment in his eyes. “No can do. She’s still getting ready.”

“I thought we were walking the carpet together?"

“You are. But you’ll see her when she’s done getting ready.”

“Are you mad at me or something?” You couldn’t help but ask, making your makeup artist stop for a moment.

He flicks a brow up, “It’s not my place to be mad at you. You should talk to Jenna.”

“What does that mean?” You furrow your brows.

“Like I said, just talk to her. She’ll be ready in a bit. Meet us on her floor.” Then he walks off

You sighed.

“You’re good to go, hun.” Your glam team confirms.

Eventually, your team trickles out one by one leaving you with a moment to yourself. Closing your eyes, you lean back against your chair and let out a heavy sigh.

You really wanted to talk to Jenna before tonight’s gala.

The news of your ‘possible arrest’ and ‘charges’ is abuzz all over the internet and social media.

It seems like whoever leaked that you were caught with coke made you public enemy number one on certain news outlets, once again.

But people on the internet have differing opinions. Some make fun of the situation, some defend you, and some are outright bashing you.

You’ve deactivated various social media’s, only keeping your Instagram to check on Jenna and her family’s posts from Coachella weekend, but your comments are limited.

The slew of hate you've been hit with from randoms is overwhelming despite you not caring about their thoughts on your life and the way you chose to live it.

There's only so much you can take when the first thing you read when you open social media is your name.

But, you’ve been so swamped with rehearsals and duties as a host that you couldn’t even greet the other actress when she landed. By the time you made it back to your hotel room in the dead of night, you didn’t feel you should disturb Jenna’s much-needed rest — knowing she’s a bit of an insomniac.

“Hey, I just got the okay. We’re good to go. We can meet Jenna.” Link pops his head through the door breaking you out of your thoughts.

You open your eyes, and sighed, taking your time to get up making Link raise his brow. “Hey, it’ll be okay.”

He reassures you once you stepped out of the door, holding the lavish train of your dress behind you.

“Yeah…” You mutter distantly, bunching your dress up with one hand to walk to the elevator.

When you make it to Jenna’s floor your hands begin to perspire. Enrique’s words from earlier ringing loudly in your ears, he definitely made it sound like Jenna was mad at you.

She was right, you do jump to conclusions.

You force yourself to take a calm, deep breath as you wait for her door to open; nervously tapping your high-heeled foot on the carpet.

When the door creaks open, your eyes are snapping to it immediately.

“Wow…” You do a double-take, with a wide-eyed goggle — taking a step back to admire her custom tuxedo dress.

“Thanks…” She tucks a hair behind her ear, glancing down shyly.

“Jenna… I mean it, you look— wow. I mean—“ You stutter embarrassingly.

In all your ears as a performer, you have never been so tongue-tied. What is this girl doing to you?

Even Enrique couldn’t help but laugh behind her, easing the tension as Jenna just flicks an amused brow at you, despite her reddening cheeks.

Clearing your throat, attempting to hide your unabashed staring, “Sorry, I just mean— you look beautiful.”

“Thank you… so do you.” She muttered gingerly.

“You like it? It’s a little on the nose.” It was your turn to blush as you glanced between your outfit and hers — a bride and groom. You try not to put too much meaning on the implication.

“It was my idea, actually.” She admitted.

“Really?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” She steps out, walking ahead of you. “It’ll be great for the press.”

That word was starting to grind your gears whenever it left her mouth.

You frowned as she walked further away.

"Can we talk? I need to tell you something." You slide in next to her.

Damn her and those heels.

"Not now, Y/N," Jenna whispers coldly, sparing you a warning look.

"It's important Jenn—"

"Y/N. I'm serious. Don't make things worse." She says with certainty that made you slightly afraid but knowing when to keep your mouth shut has never been your strong suit.

"You know... about the article." You trail off, unsure how you feel.

"Of course. I know, Y/N. God." She rolls her eyes and walks into the elevator.

You keep your head down and shove yourself into the opposite corner of the metal box; not wanting to be close to the other actress as you attempt to cool down.

She really believed a gossip article?

When the door opens, you couldn’t help but slide in beside her. “And you really believe it? Over me?”

She sighed, pulling you aside to a secluded corner and let both of your teams walk ahead; ignoring their prying eyes.

“I don’t know what to believe Y/N.”

You scoff, brows furrowing, “Me… believe me, Jenna.”

“How?” She says bluntly and you feel your heart drop at her tone and how sure she sounded about her accusations.

You know you’re the farthest from a saint. Did what you do warrant this reaction from her?

Maybe.

But you felt like you should still be able to explain your side.

She takes your stunned silence as a prompt to keep talking.

“This is what you do. You run away from things until it catches up to you. We’ve spent the last few months by each other sides and you never brought up the—“She takes a deep breath, glancing around wearily, “Coke… so you tell me Y/N, what should I believe? ‘Cause it feels like you haven’t been upfront with me.”

“Upfront with you–” You laugh resentfully.

“Guys, we gotta go!” Link yells before you can give in to your rising anger.

I guess you know where you stand with her.

“We—We’ll talk about it later,” Jenna sighs, hanging her head low as if she were tired.

Deep breath...

“Don’t bother. Point made."

“What was that?” Link asks, holding his elbow out for you to take as you walked away from the other actress.

“My answer.�� You mumbled, bitterly.

Maybe she is just like the rest of them.

–

not even sorry about it…

(fun fact: my @ is a play-off of House of Balloons by The Weeknd)🫢

taglist is closed

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#legally binded #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega

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jenna0rtega27 · 8 months ago

Note

Hey could you do maybe a long smut threesome with fem reader (bottom) x Emma Myers (top) x Jenna Ortega (top)

Spicy Morning

Thank you for asking

(Continue sending your requests I love reading you)

18+

Jenna Ortega x Emma Myers x F!Reader

Summary: Request

Warnings: Threesome, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, dom!Jenna, dom!Emma, sub!Reader, morning sex

Note: This is my first threesome so I'm sorry if it sucks

Number of words: 1783

Masterlist

3rd person POV:

It's currently 8am and Y/n is sleeping peacefully in her bed among her two girlfriends. Emma is the big spoon and Jenna is the little spoon. Emma with her hand reaching out towards Y/n to touch Jenna who has her hand in hers.

Y/n was always in the middle in everything. Whether sleeping, listening to TV or even during sex. And everyone was always very comfortable with that.

Speaking of sex, Jenna and Emma have always been tops in sex. Y/n always liked to be submissive towards both of her girlfriends.

Emma wakes up slowly. She rubs her eyes and opens them and smiles at the sight of her two wonderful girlfriends. Emma is also the dominant one but she is the gentlest. Jenna is the less gentle of the two. But if Y/n or Emma say no or they are uncomfortable, Jenna will always respect them and make sure she is comfortable and not uncomfortable.

Emma holds her head with her hand or leans on her pillow to get a better look at Jenna and Y/n. With her free hand, she releases some hair from Y/n's face to get a better look at her sleeping face and gently caresses her cheeks with her fingertips without waking her. She places a soft kiss on his forehead. Y/n frowns slightly but doesn't wake up. Emma laughs silently at how cute her girlfriend is.

Emma looks up to look at Jenna who has her back to them in Y/n's arms. Emma raises her arm towards Y/n to touch the little brunette. She caresses his face gently with her fingers. Jenna has the softest skin of the three. Emma always loved stroking his fingers.

Jenna squirms under Emma's touch and turns around to face her girlfriends and smiles at Emma.

" Good morning my love. » Emma said, smiling back. Emma caresses Jenna's cheek with her thumb.

“Good morning mi amor. » Jenna replies and she sits up to lean over Y/n's body and kisses Emma. Emma responds to the kiss immediately.

At the moment of the kiss, Y/n wakes up. Opening her eyes, she is immediately struck by the sight of Jenna and Emma kissing right above her face. She is sandwiched between the two and does not move. She just watches the kiss which is gentle but still warms her cheeks.

Y/n can’t believe she’s wet at 8am in the morning because of her girlfriends making out on top of her. She continues to look without saying anything. She is waiting for someone to notice her and because she is also a little ashamed. When it's about Jenna or Emma, Y/n can get wet pretty easily and quickly.

Feeling themselves being observed, Jenna opens her eyes to see Y/n looking at them with her mouth slightly open. Y/n looks at Jenna's eyes as they begin to turn dark and dark with desire.

Jenna smiles and continues kissing Emma while maintaining eye contact with Y/n. The blanket still covers the bodies of the three girls. Jenna traces Y/n's body under the blanket and on top of her clothes. She drags her hand up to Y/n's face and caresses her cheeks and puts her index and middle fingers in her mouth so that Y/n sucks her fingers to moisten them.

Y/n sucks on Jenna’s fingers. She swirls her tongue around her girlfriend's fingers. Jenna moans into Emma's mouth and Emma takes the opportunity to enter Jenna's mouth without a tongue.

Y/n lets out a small moan at the sight of Jenna and Emma's tongues swirling between them and entering each other's mouths.

Jenna removes her fingers from Y/n's mouth and puts them in Emma's mouth as she withdraws from the kiss. Jenna looks at Y/n and brings her face closer to hers without kissing her.

“You’re going to keep watching us kiss while I finger you okay?” » Jenna said with a tone that could scare anyone but not Y/n and Emma.

Y/n nods.

"I want words babygirl" Jenna demands as Emma continues to suck Jenna's fingers with experience.

“Yes” Y/n replies, holding back a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

" Yes who? » Jenna asks as she brings her mouth even closer to the younger girl's.

" Yes mom. » Y/n replies, keeping her gaze on Jenna.

" Good girl. » Jenna replies with a smirk.

Y/n knows that if she wants to kiss her girlfriends, she has to listen to Jenna and Emma.

Jenna removes her fingers from Emma's mouth and replaces them with her mouth. Their kiss is much more intense than the first and Y/n is a fountain in her panties.

Jenna takes her hand under the covers and into Y/n's panties. She rubs up and down in the folds of her girlfriend's vagina and can see how wet she is. Y/n lets a small moan escape her mouth.

“Fuck baby you’re so wet.” » Jenna said as she pulled away from the kiss.

Y/n blushes and looks down in shame. Emma takes Y/n's jaw between her fingers and lifts her head to make eye contact.

“Don’t be ashamed my love. We find it really sexy. » Emma says with a loving smile and Jenna nods and brings Emma back for another languorous kiss.

Jenna continues to caress Y/n's vagina and gently inserts a finger into her hole. Y/n lets out a moan and closes her eyes in pleasure. Jenna starts to pump gently so as not to hurt her girlfriend.

Emma caresses Y/n's breasts under her shirt and Y/n moans even more.

Jenna pulls her fingers out and Y/n moans at the lack of Jenna's fingers.

“Take off your clothes babygirl. » Jenna said as she pulled away from the kiss with Emma.

Y/n says nothing and undresses like Jenna and Emma. They are all three naked.

“Baby, go sit between Emma’s legs, I’ll eat you out and Emma can do whatever she wants with you. » Jenna demands, stroking Y/n's cheek with her fingers of the younger girl's juices.

Y/n does what Jenna says. She knows she has no words about it. Emma spreads her legs so her girlfriend sits between her legs. Y/n sits between the blonde's legs and places her back against Emma's chest.

Emma immediately places her hands on Y/n's breasts and massages them to pleasure Y/n. Y/n moaned slightly. Jenna smiles at the sight and lies down between Y/n’s legs so her head is right above her vagina.

" You are so Beautiful. » Jenna whispers, blowing on Y/n's vagina to tease her.

Y/n moans and all she wants is for Jenna to give her what she wants.

“Jenna please. » Y/n pleads, closing her thighs around Jenna's head. Jenna opens Y/n's thighs hard enough to hurt her and looks at her with a dark look.

“Who is in charge here? » Jenna asks with a bloodcurdling tone.

" You. » Y/n replies, looking at Jenna who smirks.

“Good” Jenna says and licks a long strip from the entrance to her vagina to her clitoris but without staying on it. Jenna moaned at the taste and Y/n moaned from the teasing. Y/n places her hands on Emma's knees and squeezes them.

Jenna continues licking wet strips. She looks up and sees Y/n with her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open. She smiled at the sight. She looks up higher and looks at Emma who looks at her with a smirk and kisses Y/n's head.

Without warning, Jenna starts sucking hard on Y/n's clit. The younger woman moans loudly like a porn star and puts a hand in Jenna's hair and pulls it in pleasure.

Jenna smiles and moans which makes Y/n's clit vibrate and makes her moan even louder. Jenna reaches out a hand and massages one of Y/n's breasts. Y/n places her free hand on Jenna’s hand.

With her free hand, Jenna slips two fingers into Y/n's vagina and quickly penetrates her. Y/n's walls clench against the brunette's fingers.

“Ahhh yes~” Y/n said while moaning loudly.

Emma takes Y/n's chin between her fingers and tilts her head back and kisses her. Y/n continues to moan into Emma's mouth at Jenna's warm tongue and experimenting fingers. Emma adds her tongue to the kiss and explores Y/n's mouth.

Emma places her free hand on Y/n's clit and rubs circles to the same rhythm as Jenna. Y/n moans into Emma's mouth and begins to feel her climax coming.

“Fuck I’m going to cum.” » Y/n moaned as she pulled away from the kiss.

Jenna stands up while continuing to pump Y/n's vagina and moves closer to her girlfriends.

“Cum for us my love. » Jenna replies and Emma rubs Y/n's clit even harder and Jenna fingers her wildly.

After a few seconds, Y/n lets out a pornographic moan and cums all over Jenna's fingers. Jenna quickly moves back between Y/n’s thighs and licks up every last drop of her juices. She gives a kiss to her clit which makes Y/n moan and straddles Y/n's waist and kisses her. Y/n moaned at the taste of her on Jenna’s tongue.

“I want to drip it too. » Emma whined with puppy eyes.

Jenna laughs and pulls away from the kiss with Y/n to kiss Emma. Emma moaned at the taste of Y/n.

Y/n sucks and licks one of Jenna’s breasts and massages the other with her hand. Jenna moans into Emma's mouth and runs a hand through Y/n's hair.

Emma takes Y/n's chin in her fingers and lifts her head to join the kiss. According to Y/n, threesome kisses are the best.

They continue kissing languidly and Y/n can feel the fatigue from her orgasm.

Jenna and Emma pull back and look at Y/n lovingly.

“Come on love, let’s get some sleep.” » Jenna said, caressing Y/n's cheeks with her thumbs.

" But you? » Y/n asks sadly.

“Don’t worry baby. We're not finished for today. Nobody is working so we're going to take advantage of it. » Emma replies, giving Y/n a kiss on the cheek.

" All right. » Y/n finally says and lies down on her side. Jenna in front and Emma behind and holds her in their arms like a sandwich.

“Sleep well to do more tricks my love I love you. » Jenna said as she kissed Y/n's cheek and Y/n quickly fell asleep.

“See you later my love, I love you. » Jenna said to Emma.

“See you later my love, I love you too. » Emma replies and gives Jenna a quick kiss and a kiss on Y/n's cheek and they go back to sleep holding Y/n tightly in their arm.

The day is far from over.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega smut #polyamory #emma myers #emma myers x reader #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega x y/n

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bingwriterxo · 1 year ago

Text

call your mom

pairing: jenna ortega x reader

summary: in which jenna gets worrying texts

warnings: HEAVY TOPICS -- depression, OD, minors DNI (18+)

word count: 1800+

author's note: based on the song 'call your mom' by noah kahan. if you guys ever need to talk, hit my inbox please.

You (1:53am): i'm sorry.

You (1:53am): i love you.

Jenna grumbled at the sound of her text-tone cutting through the silent night, but she still turned over in her bed to reach for her phone, knowing that only one person was set to interrupt her usual do-not-disturb. She cracked one eye open to read what you had sent her and then shot up, fear surging through her.

"No, no, no," she muttered as her fingers fumbled around the screen, trying to unlock her phone as quickly as possible. She's fine, she thought. She has to be fine. The tears that were already welling in her eyes told her otherwise.

When she finally managed to open her phone, she immediately called you, her breath quickening with each ring that went by in which you didn't answer.

"Come on, come on. Please."

She was already pushing the covers from her body and slipping from her bed, shuffling around the dark room to grab a pair of socks and her keys.

"Y/N, please," she pleaded to the dial tone.

Then, a click.

"Jenna," you whispered, your voice raw and hurt and everything Jenna didn't want to hear.

"Y/N?!" She slipped one sock on, fumbled with the other. "Y/N, what's going on?"

There was a sob on the other end of the line.

Where the fuck are my keys?!

"I can't..." you cried into the phone. "Jenna, I--"

Jenna clenched her jaw as she hurried toward the light switch, turning it on and spotting her keys. She grabbed them, ignoring her body's protests of everything going too fast.

"I'll be there so soon, baby," she said, trying to keep her voice calm even though all she wanted to do was sob and shake. "Just hold on, okay?"

"I can't do it anymore, Jenna." You sniffled, hiccupped, then, "I love you."

Jenna shook her head. "No, baby. Stay on the phone with me, please."

She slipped into the first pair of shoes she could find, rushed out the front door of her apartment, sprinted down the stairs so quickly that she should've fallen, and was in her car in a matter of moments.

The engine rumbled to life, and your voice erupted through the car's speakers. "I can't. I just...it's too much."

"Y/N, stay on the phone." Her foot was heavy on the gas pedal. "You have to stay on the phone."

You let out a shaky breath. "It all hurts." You coughed wetly. "Everything hurts, J."

"I know, baby. I know, but it'll be okay. It won't last forever, okay?" Hold on. Just hold on.

"I'm--I'm getting real tired," you said, voice cracking, breaths shallow.

Fuck.

"Did you take something?" She pressed harder on the gas pedal, slipped beneath a yellow light. You didn't answer, and her speedometer climbed, climbed, climbed. "Y/N, did you take something?!" she gritted out, trying to keep her own sobs at bay.

She could hear you swallow. "Yeah," you breathed out.

Her grip on the wheel tightened. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "Okay, you're gonna be okay. Just stay on the phone with me. Can you do that for me? Please?"

Your sobs were echoing around the car, bouncing from one speaker to the next right into Jenna's ears, and it was painful. She wanted to shut it all out, but she knew she couldn't.

"No, I gotta go," you mumbled.

"Baby, don't hang up. Stay on the pho--"

"I love you."

"Y/N, don't--!"

The beeps that came when you hung up felt like nails being hammered into a coffin, and Jenna finally let herself cry. She was shaking; her palms were pressed so tightly against the wheel that her knuckles were turning white; her speed was far too high for the speed limit.

"Fuck!" she screamed. She was still twenty minutes away.

Call her mom. Call her mom.

"Hey, Siri." Her phone sounded to life. "Call Y/M/N."

The dial tone filled the car. One ring, two rings. Please. I need you.

"Jenna?" Your mom's voice was groggy, like the phone call had woken her from deep sleep. "Is everything okay?"

"I don't know what to do," Jenna sobbed. "Y/N took something." She was hyperventilating, and she couldn't seem to stop. "She took something, and I'm on the way to her right now, but I don't know if I'll be fast enough."

"Oh god." There was rustling on the other end of the phone. Your mom said something to your dad, something Jenna couldn't pick up on. "Okay, Jenna. Y/F/N is sending an ambulance to her apartment, okay? They'll be there in a few minutes."

"God, I don't know when she took them. I don't--I don't if that'll be soon enough." She covered her mouth with one hand, tried to stop crying while talking. "I don't know what to do. What do I do?" Tears were blurring her vision.

"You need to breathe, honey, alright?"

"I'm sorry. I--" She felt pathetic. Your parents could lose a child tonight, yet she was the one sobbing and asking for help. "I can't lose her."

"I know. Jenna, breathe. You won't be any help if you can't make it to her." Your mom was crying now, too. "We need to breathe. She'll be okay. She'll be alright." It sounded more like she was trying to reassure herself. "She's strong." There was more shuffling. "We're going to her apartment now."

"I'm almost there." She pressed harder on the gas. "I'm almost there." Please, Y/N. Hold on. Just a little longer. Just a few more minutes.

"She'll be okay, Jenna." Your mom let out a gasping sob. "She has to be."

You have to be okay. We need you.

Stay with us.

* * *

The lights were blinding; the chairs were uncomfortable; the air was sterile in a way that air shouldn't be; there was beeping echoing from every direction; nurses were walking around, this way and that.

Jenna couldn't think about anything other than the fact that you were laying in a hospital bed, just a few rooms away. A doctor had come in earlier, talked to her and your parents about what had happened, but she had tuned everything out.

Her fingers were fiddling with themselves, hands wringing together. Your mom's hand was resting on her knee, which was bouncing up and down, up and down, up and--

"Y/L/N?"

She shot out of her chair. Your parents did, too. The doctor said something, and she knew she should've been listening, but she was waiting for--

"You can go see her now," he said.

The three of you rushed to the room that you were given, and Jenna had to pause in the doorway, watching as your parents hurried to the farther side of your bed. You looked so...tiny, laying there--fragile in a way that Jenna had never seen.

Tears welled in her eyes again, and she took a step back, gasping for air. Your mom looked up at her--your father down at you--but Jenna just waved her hand. Take care of her, she thought. She needs it.

She stumbled back into the waiting room and fell into a chair, trying to erase the image of you in the bed, of you in the back of the ambulance, of you alone in your apartment, sitting in your bathroom when she had arrived. She wiped at her eyes, rubbed at them, pressed the heel of her palm into them like it would rid her mind of the memories.

Come on, Jenna. Pull yourself together.

She couldn't.

It was too much. It was all too much.

She was crying again, in the empty waiting room. Her sobs filled the air, loud and unrestrained and laced with pain, and her tears slid down her cheeks unabashedly.

Then, a hand on her shoulder. Soft, strong, careful. Jenna looked up. Your mom stood beside her, offering her the smallest of smiles.

"She wants to see you, honey," she said quietly.

Jenna sniffled, wiped at her tears. "Okay." She nodded and stood. Your mom led her back to your room, and she followed like she was on autopilot, her legs moving quicker than her mind wanted.

When she arrived, you were watching her, eyes wide and owl-ish, scared and child-like, sorry. Half of her was tempted to run back into the waiting room and hide there until this was all over, until she woke up from what she was sure was a dream. The other half knew that you needed her, and she listened to that half as she walked inside and kneeled beside your bed.

"We'll give you two some time," your father said, and Jenna didn't even look at him as she heard your parents shuffle from the room. She was staring at you, at your eyes, your lips, the slope of your nose--everything that could've been gone.

You sighed, shrank in on yourself. "I'm sorry," you whispered.

Jenna swallowed. "You're okay." Her bottom lip trembled as she spoke, relieved that she was able to say those words. "You're okay."

"I'm okay."

"I thought--" Her voice cracked, and she choked back a sob. "I thought I was going to lose you." She shook her head and blinked back tears. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

You chewed at your bottom lip and sniffled. "I'm okay."

"Okay." She was crying again, unable to stop herself. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to your forehead, closing her eyes to bask in the feeling of your warmth, of your life. "I love you," she mumbled against you.

"I love you, too."

* * *

Jenna moved into your apartment a week later.

It wasn't an idea forced on you but rather one that you suggested. I don't know if I can trust myself yet, you had told her, and she had adamantly agreed when you asked if she wanted to move in with you.

It was easy--existing with each other. It made it harder for you to slip into episodes in the coming months, and it helped Jenna sleep at night, knowing that she could reach over at any moment and feel your pulse beneath her fingertips.

You were put on medication two weeks later.

Jenna would keep your pills in the drawer of her nightstand and give one to you each night, and then, to be cautious, count them after you had gone to bed, just to make sure. When she always found the number she was supposed to, she would let herself relax and fall into bed with you.

You started weekly appointments with a therapist.

At first, you were a little nervous, if not a bit uncooperative. Then, you realized it actually did help, and you were making progress, and the world was becoming a little bit lighter.

A month passed. Then, six. Then, a full year.

You were getting better. You weren't there yet, not fully, but Jenna could see that things were brightening for you. She would see your eyes light up again, and your smile wouldn't hesitate as it broke across your face, and you would talk to her--really talk.

And, on nights when it was harder, when things would feel heavier on your shoulders and Jenna couldn't handle them alone, she would do the one thing she knew worked every time.

She'd call your mom.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna x reader

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wol-fica · 1 year ago

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-ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕦𝕝-

pairings - jennaortega x gp!reader

summary - “Can you write Jenna x gp!reader where Jenna and y/n being risky and almost getting caught (maybe on set)” - Anon

warnings - public sex, rough sex, oral, teasing, angry sex, exhibitionism, choking, p in v, breeding kink, hand covering mouth(???), overstimulation, percy being a dick :/

an - i got suuuuuper bored today and i was reading a suicide_wolf alpha!amberfreeman fic on ao3 and WOOOOWEEE i’m tempted to write one for jenna now :/

—————————

“Yikes…that doesn’t look good.” Georgie said from your right, eying you while you stared daggers at your co-star Percy.

He was flirting with your girlfriend, his hands brushing her arms and his body leaning way to close for your liking. Preferably, you would like him to be at least 6 feet away or more, and facing away from her.

You knew how he felt about her, since he came and told you and Georgie that he was head over heels for her. Now normally, you would have corrected him and told him that she was taken, but Jenna had begged you to not say anything as she wanted to keep your relationship as private as possible.

That was a bit concerning for you, but she reassured that it was just because her last relationship failed from being too much in the public eye. She had no privacy or stability because the internet was up her ass about the guy she was with, so she vowed to make sure her next relationship would be sealed off for just her and you to enjoy.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You said calmly, standing up and starting towards him.

“Woah now!” Georgie said, grabbing your arm to hold you back, “That’s probably not smart.”

“He’s way to close to her, I don’t care if it ain’t smart or not.” You growled, trying to tug your arm away.

Georgie pulled you back, putting himself in front of you, “Getting into a fight on set is definitely going to get you kicked off and sued.”

You stared him down, breathing heavily. He was right, even if you did was him away from Jenna you couldn’t just start throwing punches. You valued your job and your role in the show, jeopardizing that just because you were jealous was a dumb move.

“You’re right.” You relented, relaxing when he let go of your arm, “I just don’t like him doing that with her.”

“I know.” Georgie put a comforting hand on your shoulder, “You should go ask to talk to her privately, that’s the best way to get her away from him.”

You nodded in agreement, pursing your lips before shuffling past him and walking towards your girlfriend. She was laughing, her head thrown back while she bellowed at Percy’s joke. He was smirking, condescending and proud while you seethed. As you approached, Jenna’s eyes found yours, her face lighting up instantly at the sight of you.

“Y/N!” She yelled, turning to run and meet you halfway.

“Hey Jenna.” You replied, catching her in a hug when she launched herself at you, “How are you?”

She pulled back, looking up at you with those brown eyes that you fell so hard for. You shamelessly scanned her face, taking in her natural beauty that stood before you. Her freckles, her dimples, everything that made your heart go thump thump thump.

“I’m doing good!” She said cheerfully, pulling back to slide her hands into yours, “How was filming with Emma today?”

“Pretty great, our scenes were super smooth.”

“Jenna, do you know when our kiss scene is?” Percy interjects, trying to gain her attention back.

Your eyes snapped to him, a scowl appearing on your face. He was trying to push you, clearly attempting to get under your skin. Percy never liked you that much, being that Jenna always raved about how great of a ‘friend’ you were and would constantly bring you up in conversations.

“I’m not sure, probably tomorrow though.” Jenna replied, turning to him, “Why?”

“I just need to know when to vasaline my irresistible lips.” He joked with a wink, “Maybe we should practice or something?”

“Actually I have to talk to Jenna ‘bout something.” You quipped, dragging her away from him, “Bye!”

You pulled her along, ignoring the huff of irritation that Percy produced, and made your way down a long hallway and into a deserted work room. Jenna followed quietly, watching your tense shoulders and how your jaw ticked with each step you took.

You were mad, she could tell that, but she didn’t know what you were planning with taking her this far away from set. You pushed the door open, letting her walk past you before closing it and locking the door. It was currently lunch break, meaning the cast and crew had a few hours before they needed to get back to filming.

Jenna walked to the empty table in the middle of the room, hopping up and sitting on it to watch you pace back and forth in front of her.

“Baby.” She said, her eyes following your every move, “C’mere.”

You turned, moving towards her and taking your place in between her knees. Her legs went around you waist, pulling you in close so she could grab your face and kiss you.

Her lips were soft, tasting of vanilla and honey from the lip balm she uses. Your hands found solace on her waist, using her body as leverage to lean yourself into her. She parted from you, but you chased her lips and pulled her back in, relishing in her plump lips.

“Y/N.” She mumbled against your mouth, moaning softly when you chose to kiss down her neck, “Can…can you talk to me?”

You hummed against her skin, peppering her neck with small kisses that had her heart running a mile a minute. Her hands clawed at you, trying to pull you back up to her face.

“I’m angry with you.” You finally said, sucking a small hickey on her pulse point, “And I’m gonna show you how mad I am.”

She shuttered under your hold, turning her head to the side to give you more access to her neck. The fabric of her skirt was riding up, revealing her soft, tanned thighs that made you drool.

“I’m…I’m not sure why you’re mad…” Jenna murmured, sucking in a breath when your hands moved to squeeze her thighs, “But…I’m sorry for it…”

You chuckled, pushing her legs apart and getting down on your knees in front of her. She watched you with wide eyes, scanning your face before following your hand that went to push her skirt up. You gasp quietly, seeing the patch of wetness on her panties that had formed moments before.

Your pointer finger hooked on the hem of Jenna’s underwear, pulling the garment down and off of her legs and throwing it behind you somewhere. Turning back to the task at hand, you nudged her legs farther apart one last time before looking up at her for consent.

She met your eyes, her face softening into a smile as she cupped your cheek. A nod was all she gave you before you moved in, a gasp leaving her lips when she felt your hot breath on her center. Her fingers wound into your hair, her other hand going behind her for support.

You wanted to start slow, choosing to do small kitten licks on her slit to work her up. She groaned from above, pushing your face into her and bucking her hips, looking for more. You hummed against her, getting a small squeak of shock, and decided to suckle her clit into your mouth.

She moaned softly, her grip tightening while you sucked and licked at her clit. Your lips wrapped around the small bud, forming a deep suck to distract her from your hand sneaking in between her legs.

Jenna whined your name, hips tilting towards you when a finger swiped through her folds. You were playing with her, she knew that, and you were definitely not going to be nice in the long run. She moaned loud when two of your fingers slipped inside of her, her eyes rolling back when they rested knuckle deep.

You sucked harder, moving your fingers back and forth with the rhythm of your mouth. Your digits curled, causing her to cry out, and you suddenly felt a gush of wetness on your hand and chin.

Jenna tugged at your hair, trying to get you out from between her legs but with no success. You kept at it, slipping a third finger in while rolling her clit on your tongue. She was seeing stars from the overstimulation, her back arching at the feeling.

“F-Fuck…Y/N it hurts…ah!” She stuttered out, trying to get away from your death grip.

You hummed on her clit, making her cry out your name again, before pounding your fingers into her at a fast pace. She came again, bucking her hips pathetically at the feeling of her second orgasm. You finally pulled away, giving her bud a quick kiss before standing up.

“Jesus, babe.” She mumbled, looking up at you with hazy eyes, “Did…did that help your anger?”

“Oh Jenna…” You said, stroking her cheek while your other hand unbuttoned your slacks, “Far far from it.”

She gulped, glancing down at you pulling out your hardened cock before you pushed her to lay on her back. Your member stood tall and proud, veins pulsing and precut dripping out of the tip from arousal.

You leaned over Jenna, pressing one final kiss to her lips. She stared back at you, cupping your face and stroking your cheeks before you stood up. Your hands grasped at her thighs, pulling them apart and pushing them up on her chest. She sat herself up on her elbows, watching and waiting for your next move while you let your tip poke at her entrance.

“This…is how angry I am…” You stated before shoving yourself inside of her.

She cried out, letting her head drop at the intrusion. You quickly filled her up, for fully parting her walls open and penetrating her insides. You were deep in her, her walls fluttering around your shaft while you stretched her open.

“O-oh god…” Jenna moaned, feeling each vein on your cock when you dragged yourself back out so only the tip was inside of her.

After giving her a second to catch her breath, you began your assault of her pussy, thrusting back and forth at a fast pace. Your cock soon became covered in her slick, her arousal causing your member to look shiny and wet.

“So fucking tight.” You growled, holding her thighs for leverage to fuck her harder, “Such a needy little slut, aren’t you?”

She moaned, body rocking up and down with each sharp thrust you gave. You leaned over her, finding a deeper angle that made her wince, and grabbed her jaw to make her look at you.

“Answer my question.”

She whimpered, trying to find the right words to say, “Y-yes!”

“Good girl~.” You praised, pounding your hips harder.

You pulled her legs up, throwing them over you shoulders and pumping your cock into her at an aggressive pace. She was drenched at this point, her wetness dripping down the table and onto the tiled floor.

Her walls started to tighten and pulse, the telltale signs of her approach third orgasm. Pushing yourself a little harder, she came abruptly with a moan of your name, her walls clamping down on your dick.

Her cum splattered onto your shirt, but that didn’t make you stop. You trusted through her orgasm, bringing her straight to another. She screamed at the familiar feeling of overstimulation, reaching a hand out to press against your chest.

“W-Wait! Please!” She cried, attempting to get you to stop, “I…I can’t!”

You growled, leaning down over her again and caging either side of her head with your forearms. Your thrusts turned into deep, fast pounds, your hips slapping against hers with each heavy movement.

“Y/N!” She sobbed, yet another orgasm crashing over her.

“Fuck…” You said through your teeth, resting your forehead on her shoulder while you pumped yourself deeper into her, “You’re so fucking wet.”

Jenna moaned loudly, hips bucking uselessly while you split her apart. You glanced down, sighing at the sight below. Her folds were puffy and swollen, pussy wrapped around your cock perfectly while it disappeared repeatedly inside of her. Ignoring her cries of pleasure, you slid one of your hands down to toy with her clit.

“FUCK!” She yelled, feeling herself squirt onto you.

You moaned at that, eyes rolling back at the feeling of her wet, warm walls encompassing you. She hadn’t squirted in a long time, so for her to do that now was incredibly arousing to you. The feeling of your impending orgasms grew larger, the knot in your stomach tightening.

“Fuck baby…I’m gonna fill you with my cum.” You moaned, thrusting your hips harder, “Your gonna be full of my kids…”

She came in response, her eyes rolling and a moan tumbling past her lips from your statement. You placed firm pats to her clit, causing her to cry again, and your other hand found solace with pressing on the moving bulge in her stomach.

Her head shot up, your name being screamed from her lips before being silenced by your hand. You pushed her back down, meeting her wide brown eyes before pushing yourself as deep as you could go. The knot snapped, your cum pumping inside of her against her cervix. Jenna’s moan was muffled by your palm, her eyes falling shut at the feeling of your warm semen filling her up.

“Shit.” You mumbled, collapsing on top of her, completely spent.

You both laid there for a moment, breathing heavily in sync while you attempted to regain your composure. You felt her hands slither around your shoulders, rubbing on your tense muscles to soothe you.

“Baby…” Her voice sounded distant, so you turned your head to meet her gaze.

“Hey.” You mumbled, a dazed smile on your face that made her laugh.

“Goofball.” She muttered, scratching your scalp gently, “That was so-.”

A knock on the door was vaguely heard, causing you both to snap your eyes to the locked door. The world seemed to freeze, and you slowly moved to hover over Jenna as a means to cover her if necessary.

“Jenna? You in there?” It was Percy, which made you roll your eyes.

“Goddammit he always has to be with you.” You grumbled, cracking your neck before standing up properly and moving to pull out of her.

She whimpered softly at the loss of you, but sat up nonetheless, blinking the grey spots out of her eyes while you pulled up your boxers and pants. You went towards the door to grab her panties, eying it while you picked up the clothing.

“I guess she’s not here.” Percy said to someone, his voice muffled behind the door.

“Shame, I wanted to practice some lines with her.” A girl, Emma, replied, their voices growing distance as they walked away.

”Emma wants to practice lines with you.” You mumbled, handing Jenna her panties and leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I heard, I’ll catch up with her after I fix this mess of myself.” She replied, pulling the article on and standing up.

Her legs were shaky and weak, causing her to stumble into your arms. You caught her easily, setting her back on her feet with a giggle.

“Clumsy.” You murmured, kissing her cheek softly.

“Shut up.” She said with a smile, hitting your stomach, “Let’s get back to work dumbass.”

——————————

taglist: @cartierdreamx @tundra1029 @red1culous @vorsdany @andsoigotabutterfly @theafterofnevermore @yomomisgay @house-of-lovin @slvt4lanadelrey @thenextdawn @nepobaby08 @dunohilly @somekindofpoet @alexkolax @cinffy23 @pedrosprincess @amberfreemansburntface @myfturn

#jenna ortega #ortega #jenna #jenna ortega edit #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega fluff #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jennaortegaedit #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega icons

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melrodrigo · 1 year ago

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Writer - V.C.

Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader

Summary: Vada finds out you write fan fiction one day…lots of feelings emerge.

Warnings: suggestive themes

Word Count: 1k+

A/N: This felt a little illegal to write

"YN...are you in love with me?"

Jenna caresses your cheek; tender as can be. You feel your breathing start to quicken, heart rate rising at an alarming rate.

You don't think you can take much more...you connect your lips to hers, desperate, it feels like-

"Hey do you want Chinese or Thai for dinner?" Vada asks as she swings open your bedroom door.

You slam the face of your computer down in a panic. You try your best to act normal, elbow resting on the desk; chin on your hand.

"Why are you doing that with your hands?" Vada asks, gesturing to your weird position; tiny smile on her lips.

Well, I guess that didn't work.

You stay silent as she strolls up to you, walks behind your desk and places her hands on your shoulders.

"Me? This is my normal face, don't know what you're talking 'bout." You answer, trying as best as possible to sound nonchalant.

It's a terrible attempt at a lie, and Vada sees right through it.

"Mhm...I think you're lying."

She rushes forward and takes your computer in her arms. You gasp and get up after her, silently starting to freak out internally.

Sure, Vada knows some pretty dark secrets of yours; hell you've been with Vada through the depths of Tartarus and back. Somehow this is worse than all of that combined.

Admitting you write fan fiction? You'd rather die in a heap of dog shit.

She's smiling wide now, teasing. She hasn't opened up the computer yet, and you pray to god to help you get out of this situation.

You don't have time to formulate a very fool-proof plan, so you resort to the only thing that you know works.

You come at her so quick it probably looks like an attack to an outsider. You cup her cheeks, pull her in for a fierce kiss.

You back her up against your bedroom wall, until she hits it with a loud thud. She's opening her eyes now and looking at you, eyes lust filled and wanting.

You've got her right where you want her.

Her grip loosens on the computer, and you don't waste the opportunity. You're madly grabbing the computer, yanking it out of her hands and running out into the hallway of your house.

Once you actually get to the hallway though, you realize you don't have a part two to this plan.

What now? Hide the computer and kiss Vada till she forgets about it?

As tempting as that sounds, you know it wouldn't work. When Vada wants something, she gets it.

You don't hear her until she snakes her arms around your waist, effectively locking you in. You forgot she could be very sneaky when she wanted to, like a short little ninja.

She hums, "Now, at first I was going to just tease you for a bit and then give it back to you...but now you've peaked my interest."

She turns you around, hands on both sides of your hips; keeping you from running.

"What's got you looking so flustered huh? I should be the only one that can do that." She huffs, frowning.

You don't give up, giving Vada those pleading eyes you reserve for special occasions.

It doesn't seem to work.

"Vada don't, please-" You protest as she grabs your computer from your arms and opens it up.

It's silent for a minute or two as she reads the contents of the page.

You can't take it anymore, you want to sink into the floor and dissolve into thin air.

Whining, you break away from her grasp and plop down onto the couch; defeated.

Vada giggles first, then she lets out a full cackle as she continues to read.

You hold up a hand to her face, "Don't you dare say anything. I'm embarrassed enough to last many many lifetimes."

She completely disregards your statement, looking at you with pure excitement in her eyes. It's an adorable sight, despite the circumstances.

"You wrote Jenna Ortega fan fiction?" She asks, and she sounds almost in disbelief.

You bury your face in your hands, groaning.

"Wait...she kind of looks like me. Or I kind of look like her, oh my god is that why you agreed to be my girlfriend?" She asks, mouth open.

You roll your eyes internally; get up from your seat. There's a look in her eyes, she's delighted yes; but she also looks a little jealous.

You bite back a smirk, now this was going to be fun revenge.

"Maybe." You shrug, moving further into the apartment.

Vada follows you hurriedly, tripping over her own feet. She was such a clumsy girl sometimes.

"What do you mean 'maybe'?" She asks, eyebrows furrowed.

"Exactly what it sounds like it means." You reply, grabbing a grape out of the fridge and popping it into your mouth.

"So you didn't fall for me because of my witty charm and amazingly good looks?"

You smile a bit, tilt your head so she doesn't see it.

"For one of those qualities, sure."

You can almost picture the pout on Vada's face as you hear her stomp once. It's a habit she likes to do that when she's mad, stomps once; arms crossed.

She always looks like a six year old that's gotten her favorite toy taken away.

It's the cutest thing.

You don't relent, you enjoy teasing her a bit. Sway slightly on your heels, waiting for her to make the next move.

You half expect her to just walk away and sulk, but it must be your lucky day; because suddenly Vada's wrapping her arms around your waist and pressing her whole body against yours.

"You know what I think? I think you're bluffing." She whispers into your ear, biting your earlobe as she finishes the sentence.

You almost choke on the grape you're eating as you feel her press her lips to your neck; you tilt your head up to give her more access.

She leaves sloppy kisses from the spot behind your ear to your shoulder, and when you think you might be getting lucky; she stops.

"That's fine. I'll get you to admit it."

And then she pulls away, skipping out of the kitchen like nothing had just happened.

You huff as you follow her out.

"God, why did I have to get such a stubborn girlfriend?"

#vada cavell x reader #vada cavell x y/n #vada cavell #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #the fallout

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bloodydeanwinchester · 4 months ago

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god this is suuuuch a good fic to go back and reread knowing the context of what happens later

you can keep holding on

#jenna reads you can keep holding on #fanfic liveblogging

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ajortga · 1 year ago

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slipping through my fingers

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

a/n- hellooooo, i lowkey suck at writing angst, but here. i'm struggling on writing the second part of lead, this is why i can never write two parted stories

this is my attempt of writing angst because i've been watching so many of those i peeled my orange tiktoks

For Jenna’s 20th birthday, you wrote her a 20 paged letter.

You remember working on it and spilling her heart out, out of everything you loved about her, the way you planned on marrying her when you both were older, and your secrets.

You had told her to keep it until exactly one week after her birthday, you said you wrote so many personal things in there and wanted her to keep it safe.

She had twirled you in her arms and kissed you on her birthday, you showered her with love and presents.

The night of her birthday you told her you loved her.

Two days after her birthday, Jenna wanted to make it up to you, thank you, she had brought your favorite flowers, daffodils.

She drove to your parents and your house that day, knocked on your house.

Your parents opened the door, their eyes slowly mellowing as they met Jenna’s.

“It’s good to see you Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. I wanted to give these flowers to Y/N to thank her and how much she’s given to me ever since she entered my life. You raised a beautiful daughter.”

Your parents smiled, playing with their hands, “That’s so thoughtful of you Jenna, thank you. Unfortunately Y/N isn’t home right now and is out of town. Maybe you can drop it off.. On a later day?”

Jenna’s smile faded a little as she nodded, “Of course, let Y/N know I visited.”

They nodded as they gave her a hug and closed the door, Jenna left with the beautiful daffodils in her hands.

10/29

jenna<3: hi baby, i came to drop off some flowers as a thank you, you weren’t there, your parents said you were out of town<3.

sweet Y/N: hi gorgeous, i’m sorry i wasn’t there, i wish i was so I could pick you up in my arms and hugged you until the next day.

jenna<3: me too princess, i love you

sweet Y/N: i love you so so much

11/4, one week after.

Jenna brings her flowers that she got for you a few days back, they were a little wilted, but just as pretty as ever. She picks them up and changes the water, gently grasping it and walking to meet you.

She wore your sweater before leaving her house.

This time she didn’t go to your parent’s house.

The weather was colder as she wrapped your sweater over herself more, sniffling.

The grass was pretty, flowers were everywhere as if she were in a meadow.

She placed the daffodils against the surface of your grave with shaky hands.

As much as she tried to smile, she couldn’t.

“Why couldn’t you have just told me you were going to slip away from my fingers? Why didn’t you tell me that you had an incurable brain tumor? Why did you have to pass away in front of my eyes as you held my hand?” She whispered, her voice cracking.

She knew why you had asked her to read the letter you had gotten her a week after her birthday.

first page

Happy birthday to my sweet angel, if you’re reading this, we both know I’m no longer here with you anymore. The pretty sunsets that appear every evening are always a trace that I’m still lingering here with you. I’m sorry I never told you. I wish I could, but I didn’t want to ruin your birthday, I wanted to make you so happy and I couldn’t bear the thought of telling you. So I didn’t. I know you took my favorite sweater the first time you ever wore it, so I told my parents to give all of my sweaters to you so you can hold them and my scent can comfort you whenever you miss me. I had bought a ring for you, I wanted to marry you, you made me happy. I wanted to spend my whole life with you. The ring reminds me of you. It reminded me of us. And even though I’m no longer here to marry you, I want to give it to you as a present to wear to remind you that I’ll love you and I’ll always be holding your hand. I wish I could pick you up in my arms and hug you forever. But I can’t. I remember when we were little kids and I scraped my knee on the concrete when we were biking. You had held me in your arms and kissed the wound, telling me that you would kiss it better. As much as I’m an open wound and your kisses heal me, they can’t heal me this time. But over time, your kisses will heal your wounds of me. Till you finally look up at the sky at the sunset and smile. I love you.

Jenna sobs against the railing of your hospital bed as she hugs you tight, your eyes barely open.

“D-don’t go.” She says, her voice below a whisper as she wants to just cradle you and kiss it better.

She wishes she could kiss it better. The only thing she could do was climb into your hospital bed, holding your weak body in hers.

She caresses your cheek as you look at her, sniffling a little, “I’m sorry.”

She gives you a tearful smile, sobbing, “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. I love you so much.”

Your hair was down as she caressed it, the beeping of the monitor slowing.

Her hand held yours, holding it so tightly so you’ll never let go.

You looked up at her, the smallest smile forming as you whispered.

“I love you too. I love you so much. I’ll love you so much.”

Your eyes close, as much as Jenna loved spending time with you, this was the worst memory she could’ve ever experienced.

She kisses your forehead as you keep whispering “I love you.” Till it stops.

Your breathing slows, till you exhale your very last breath, your hand slipping away from her fingers, your body going limp in her arms as she lets out a gut wrenching sob.

#jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x fem!reader #vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x y/n

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yooglefics · 6 months ago

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Intentions don’t mean much.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!partner Wordcount: 670 words Genre: Angst. Hurt / comfort. Established relationship. Song drabble. Summary: Yoongi is having some bad days and, in the end, deciding to keep it to himself to not worry his partner is not the best idea. More info under read more.

Includes: Mentions of bad mental health, implied depression. Nothing too dark but Yoongi overthinks a lot. Lack of communication. Author's note: A little drabble inspired by The Craving ( Jenna's version ) because I just had to write something after listening to it. Is pretty short but I kind of like it as is, because it can be read with the song in the background uwu. Hope you like it! If you do please remember to leave a reblog, like, follow, comment or send an ask, donate on ko-fi and what not. As always, thank you for reading <3

He is scared of putting too much weight on her shoulders, of driving her crazy because of his thoughts, and fears; the problems in his head, the ones that don't even have anything to do with her.

On bad days he tries to be reassuring. Holding her hand while sharing a cup of coffee and cuddling with her on the couch. Yes, it’s a bit selfish because it does good to him too, knowing she is with him even when his psyche reminds him of the possibility that they, too, are part of something temporary. That it could end sooner than expected, which is not much to say since he doesn't want it to end at all.

Is not that he doesn't believe she loves him, of course not. He believes everything she says, even the little conspiracy theories she rambles about at night in their bedroom. But, his brain tells him, life is unpredictable and the world goes around and around and around and…

When it gets too bad he spends most hours of the day in his studio. Even sleeps (or at least tries to) there. She brings him lunch and he kisses her cheek or forehead, sweetly and full of love. An attempt to not worry her.

Some nights, as he lays on the leather couch, he hopes she will knock on the door, looking for him and asking him to come to bed. He would say yes, even if that meant just playing with her hair as she fell asleep on his chest while he lays with his eyes open and his mind never shooting down.

But it doesn’t happen.

Is still dark outside when he hears her socket steps against the wooden floors, the beeps and trumps of the coffee machine following close behind, and he decides to join.

“Isn't it too early for coffee?” he asks, leaning in the doorway.

“Is six, just one hour early.”

“Oh.”

“How did you sleep?”

He keeps quiet, a bit confused with himself as to how he didn't realize so much time passed.

“Did you sleep?” She asks instead, tone different this time and he doesn't like something in it.

“Don't worry about it.” He tries to dismiss, coming closer and wrapping his arms around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder while they wait for the melancholy sounds announcing their beverage is ready.

But a sniff comes instead.

It takes a second for his tired brain to register it, yet is quick to react when she tries to move away, hugging her firmly against his chest. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Is silly.” she murmurs back.

“Tell me anyway?”

“Is just… after so long, I don’t know a lot about you still. And I wish I did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry about it. I don’t know what just—”

“Hey,” he softly calls out, turning her around as he looks for her gaze, “don’t apologize for it. Is on me, I’m going through some shit but I’m okay.”

She worries her lip between her teeth before asking, “Have you slept at all in the last few days?”

“A little bit.” Pretty vague, not wanting to bring concern around his insomia. But her eyes get glossy again and his open in surprise. In realization that doing that is what is upsetting her. He hates that. “I slept a couple hours yesterday after lunch, maybe that’s why I’m still awake.”

“You aren't tired then?”

A different kind, he thinks. And considers answering that while she fixes his hair, but he still isn't sure. “Maybe you just need to do that for a while so I don't wake up until tomorrow.”

That makes her smile and her eyes fall to his again. But is hard to ignore the bags under them and the bigger issues. “I'm going to the store later, I'll bring you that tea we saw the other day. We can drink that before going to bed and see if it helps. Deal?”

“Deal.”

♡ Tag list: @n33mesis , @sexytholland , @mggv97 , @wobblewobble822 , @bbou-doir , @m00njinnie , @itsmina29 , @nariee02 , @ktownshizzle .

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rollingsins · 2 years ago

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three's a crowd, part two

summary: you hadn’t expected this. to fall in love. with not one girl, but two. you hadn’t expected to ruin their friendship. love triangle au.

pairing: emma myers x reader, jenna ortega x reader

warnings: language.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: team emma or team jenna?? let me know :)))))

The morning after that night at the pool when the hangover sets in, you freak out.

The pool. The flickering lights. Jenna’s crush on Georgie. Emma’s lips on yours.

You should feel elated. Emma had kissed you. Instead, you feel... flat. Uncertain.

You stare down at your phone as you read Emma’s text.

had an amazing time last night.. Excited to see you again today 🙂 🙂

You bite your lip. Fingers hover over the keyboard, trying to think of a response. When it doesn’t come, you set your phone down. Groan. Let your mind wonder why you’re not as excited as you should be.

She’s gorgeous and she likes you. The kiss she’d given you had left you with butterflies. But there’s a tiny gnawing feeling at the pit of your stomach. You wished it had been Jenna.

Stop it, you scold yourself. She isn’t interested. She likes Georgie.

Georgie, god. Georgie with his stupid handsome face and his stupid attractive accent. They’d be a pretty couple. He’d like her back, of course he would. And then they’d get together and be stupidly in love. It’s only a matter of time. Crestfallen, you stare back at the text. Then you’re replying.

Excited to see you too ☺️☺️ had a great time last night.

Set that day is rough on everyone.

You’re filming with Hunter and Joy. Joy, miraculously, isn’t one ounce hungover, ever the professional. Hunter spends his time off camera with his head in a bucket, trying not to puke. You’re not far off, laying your head in your hands trying to quell your raging headache.

You barely notice as Emma sidles up to you, small smile on her lips.

“Hey.” She says, a little shy, “How are you feeling?”

“Better than him.” You jerk your head over to Hunter. He’s sitting in one of the cast chairs, looking a little green. Emma giggles.

“You know what they say about hangovers.” Emma says, biting her lip, “Best way to get through them is to keep drinking.”

You tilt your head up.

“Oh?” You say, “Why, you got some vodka on you?”

“No,” She says with a laugh, “But I was wondering if you wanted to go out dancing tonight. With me.”

She thinks for a moment, “Well, not just me. Jenna’s coming too. And Joy, maybe Georgie too. Hunter if he can stand.”

Your stomach coils and the thought of watching Georgie and Jenna dancing together.

“I don’t know…”

“Come on.” She presses, squeezes your hand. Your stomach flutters, “It’ll be fun. I’ll show you my moves.”

She’s staring at you, a little pleading. You swallow, ignore the lump in your throat.

“Fine.” You agree, “But just so you know I’m a terrible dancer.”

“Me too.” She affirms, “But that’s what makes it fun.”

The club is tiny. Packed to the brim with Romanian party-goers. Jenna sorts you all a small area in the corner, veers off with Georgie to buy the group drinks. You watch them at the bar, stare at the back of Georgie’s head as she touches his arm.

White hot jealousy coils through you. You take a long sip of your drink, try to shake it.

Emma’s beside you, looking so pretty in a tiny black dress. You try to focus on her.

“Should we dance?” She’s asking.

“Sure.” You say, a little half-hearted.

“We don’t have to.” She says, a little disappointment flickering behind her eyes.

“No, let’s dance.” You stand, hold out your hand.

You lead her to the dance floor, a pool of sweaty, writhing bodies. Dance for a bit, try to focus on the beat of the music and her warm hand in yours. Joy joins after a bit, and you find your gaze lingering back to the spot you’d left. Jenna’s sitting there all alone. You bite your lip.

“I’ll be right back.” You tell Emma. She nods, wraps her arms around Joy.

Then you fight your way back to where Jenna’s sitting.

“Hey.” You say as you sink down into the seat next to her, “Want to come dance?”

She shakes her head.

“I’m good.”

You shrug, take a sip of your Vodka Soda.

You look back into the crowd, scanning for Emma. She’s disappeared into the mesh of people. Instead, you spot Georgie.

He’s dancing with someone. Someone skinny and blonde and definitely not Jenna. She giggles as he wraps his arms around her waist. They dance a little more.

Idiot. You can’t help but think.

Then you realize Jenna’s looking too.

“I’m sorry.” You say. You sidle close to her, until your thighs are pressed together. “I know you liked him.”

Jenna stares at you, bemusement across her face.

“I don’t like Georgie.” She says.

Your eyebrows draw tight in confusion.

“What? But you said-“

You trail off, trying to think of exactly when Jenna had confirmed her crush on Georgie. She didn’t, you realize all at once.

“Oh. So who is it then? This person you like so much?”

Jenna says nothing. Watching, like she always does. You rack your brain, trying to think of the boys on set.

“It’s not- Hunter is it?” You say, sounding scandalized, “Because I think you’re barking up the wrong tree if you-“

“It’s not a boy.” She interjects.

That stops you in your tracks. You stare at her for a moment. Oh. And then there’s only one person it could be. Your heart sinks.

“It’s Emma. You like Emma.” Jealousy twists hot and fast in the pit of your stomach. The thought makes you want to throw up. It explains everything. Why Jenna had been so weird over the last week, so distant. Why she hadn’t wanted to tell you.

But then Jenna is shaking her head.

“It’s not Emma.”

Relief floods through you. Thank god.

“Then who-“ Your eyes go wide. You look over to her, grip her forearm.

“Oh.” You say, “It’s Joy!”

Jenna shakes her head.

“It’s not Joy.” She says, sounding a little exasperated.

Now you’re really confused. You tilt your head, trying to think.

“Christina Ricci?” Is your final, terrible guess.

Jenna sighs. The music is pumping so loud your ears are starting to ring. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Georgie lean in to kiss the girl he’s dancing with. A pang of guilt flashes through you at your unconscious vitriol to him.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” She says. Her voice is so soft you barely hear her over the music.

“Why not?”

“She doesn’t feel the same.”

You make a face. Roll your eyes.

“Impossible.” You tell her. “Have you told her?“

She’s doing that thing again. Staring, Speaking without words, like she wants you to tell what she’s thinking from her expression. She shakes her head.

“Then you need to tell her, dumbass.” You say. It’s your turn to look exasperated. You down the rest of your drink.

“You could get any girl in this room, you know that. Without even trying.”

“You think?” Voice dry. She’s humoring you. You can tell by her tone.

“You could, even if you don’t believe it.” You brush a rogue strand of hair out of her eyes. “You’re beautiful. Like the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

She looks down at you. Her eyes lock on yours.

“Tell me who it is.” You press. “One word in her ear and I’ll have her falling into your arms.”

“Why do you want to know so bad?” She asks. She’s avoiding the question. You whine.

“Because I want you to be happy.” You say, “Because I care about you.”

She doesn’t say anything. Sips at her drink. You sigh. Drop your head to her shoulder.

“Fine.” You grumble. “Don’t tell me. You’re no fun.”

You entwine your fingers with hers. You can feel her pulse hammering gently against your palm. Your integration has made her nervous. You smooth your thumb over the back of her hand. The weight of her hand feels nice in your own. Your hands lock together perfectly.

“It’s you.”

She says it over the swell of the music. You blink, not sure you heard her correctly.

“What?”

“It’s you.”

You look over to her. She’s staring, brown eyes locked on yours. Gone is her guard, she’s open. Vulnerable.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

You’re silent a second too long. You can feel her gaze shift. The wall comes back up, as quick as it had come down. Her guard back up, protecting herself.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Besides, god, you like Emma.”

She draws her hand back from yours. Immediately, you miss the warmth of her fingers entwined with your own. Your heart in your throat. She likes you.

“I- I like you too.” You say before you can stop yourself.

She pauses. Looks at you.

“Too? So you like her as well?”

“We’re just friends.” You say. It’s a lie, even you know that. Friends don’t have the kind of tension you have with Emma. You rephrase, “We’re just- hanging out.”

She looks at you, a little dubious.

You swallow.

“You could have told me. All this time and you never said anything.”

Jenna stares down at you. Her lip twitches.

“You had a thing going with Emma-“

“God, Jenna. We kissed once. We’re not married-”

She flinches at that.

“You kissed her?”

You stare back at her. “Yes, I kissed her. What do you think we’ve been doing this entire time, holding hands?”

“This is so fucked up.” Jenna mumbles. She downs the rest of her drink, drops it down on the table. “I can’t believe I just told you I liked you. You’re my friends girlfriend-”

“I’m not her girlfriend.” You interject.

“Forget I said anything.” She says, voice pleading, “Please. Let’s just go back to being friends. Let’s blame it on the tequila-”

“No.” You say, “Don’t do that.”

You're grasping at her hand, trying to pull her back down.

“YN.” She says. You can see the conflict in her eyes. “Emma really likes you.”

“More than you like me?” You’re holding your breath now. Heart hammering louder than the beat of the music.

“It doesn’t matter.” Jenna says, “She was there first-“

“I’m not some sort of prized cattle that’s been sold off to the highest bidder. Doesn’t it matter what I want?”

Jenna blinks. “And what do you want?”

It stops you in your tracks. Emma’s cute and sweet and so so pretty. But Jenna is Jenna. Your mouth opens, then closes.

“I don’t know.”

Jenna’s face is even, measured.

“Do you want to be with Emma?”

“I don’t know.”

A storm brews in her eyes. It was the wrong thing to say, you realize it immediately.

She shakes off your hand.

“Forget I said anything. Please.”

And she’s off. You don’t bother trying to follow her. What on earth were you supposed to say? Your head runs a mile a minute, overcrowded, thoughts of Jenna and Emma both. Who did you like more? You couldn’t possibly say.

You stare into your drink like it’s a crystal ball, trying to find the right answers. Emma finds you like this, nudges her shoulder against yours.

“Hey, you. Thought you were coming right back?” She’s teasing, a small smile playing on her lips. You blink back at her, confused, and the smile slips from her face.

“What’s wrong?”

You contemplate not saying anything. Taking her right back out to the dance floor. Her blue eyes are wide, concerned and you just can’t lie to her.

“Jenna-” You hesitate a moment. You don’t want to upset her, you don’t want to upset anyone. It’s an awful, horrible conundrum. But it’s gnawing at you: you need to be honest.

“Jenna told me she likes me.”

Emma just stares. Then she sighs.

“I know.” She admits quietly.

“You know?” You say, a little confused.

“That she liked you. It was kind of obvious.”

You stare.

She’s looking up at you, blue eyes vulnerable. “Do you- do you like her too?”

Your heart is in your throat.

Lie, your mind screams, lie you moron.

But you can’t. As much as you don’t want to see the disappointment flood her pretty blue eyes.

“Yes.” You admit.

“Oh.” She looks hurt and you hate it. You want to crawl into her lap, smooth the creases from her brow and tell her she’s all you want. But it isn’t true. Your heart twists, painfully.

“I like you too.” You say, “I’m- really confused.”

She just stares for a moment. For a second you think she might throw her drink in your face. Then she’s standing.

“Well, I guess you should figure that out then.” Her voice is a little shaky. You reach for her hand but she jerks away.

“Emma-”

“I’m going to go.”

“No, Emma, wait-”

But she’s gone. You curse, down the rest of your drink. This place suddenly feels overwhelming. The swell of the music, the blare of the lights. You close your eyes, drop your head in your hands.

What the fuck are you going to do?

next part

#three's a crowd #love triange fic #jenna ortega x reader #emma myers x reader #wednesday #jenna ortega #emma myers #jenna ortega x you #emma myers x you

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bel1ewrites · 2 years ago

Note

I have a request for Jenna :)

Ok so it’s Jenna x reader and reader is just a big softy golden retriever sweetheart and would always ask Jenna if she can get a hug or a kiss or if she can hold her hand and Jenna thinks it’s just like the cutest thing ever just pure fluff basically

a/n: sorry this is so short! The idea came to me mid 'Great British Baking Show" binge. If you want more stuff like this lmk and thank you for this amazing request :)!

Puff Pastries, Anybody? (Jenna Ortega x Reader)

Description: Baking isn't your strong suit.

WC: 507

Warnings: Literally none. Read it now or I'll make you eat the pastries.

“JENNA! Jenna, come look at this!”

From her seat on the couch, Jenna sighs and rolls her eyes playfully as she stands for the umpteenth time, sauntering into the kitchen to witness whatever tragic mess is transpiring in the midst of yet another one of your new hobbies.

The sight she’s met with is somehow even more mind boggling than the time she’d walked in to find you covered in wall paint from head to toe; at least then there was only one messy substance involved. In this case, you’ve managed to turn yourself into a powdery white monster with globs of what look to be strawberry jam strewn about your clothes in random ranges of size. The counter isn’t even visible beneath the layer of ingredients that lay in and out and all around their respective containers.

“Baby,” she laughs in disbelief, “what the fuck happened in here?”

You’re smiling brightly, giddiness shining in your eyes. “I made puff pastries,” you walk around the island with a tray in your hands and Jenna winces as a little trail of flour and god knows what else follows close behind you. She sees it coming before it happens. You lean down and press a gentle kiss on her lips that she returns with a smile. It leaves a starchy taste on her lips.

“Puff pastries, huh? Where did the… red stuff come from?”

You hold the tray out to her like a dog with a stick. “Try it and find out.”

And so, with a shrug, she grabs the most puffed and golden looking still-warm pastry. You put them on the counter and watch her with careful eyes, biting the flour flavored knuckle of your forefinger in anticipation.

A bite. A careful chew. A thick swallow. A cough.

“Uh oh,” you grimace, watching her struggle to keep your creation down and stepping closer to her to rub her back through the coughing fit that ensues. Surely they couldn’t be that bad… right? You grab the bitten offender from her hand and bring it to your mouth, taking a huge bite out of it.

An indescribable texture. A taste akin to a mouthful of seawater. A truly religious experience.

“Jesus fucking christ that’s atrocious,” Jenna remarks as she gasps for air. You reach for her hand while you attempt to swallow the inedible abomination in your mouth and she takes it, rubbing the skin there with her thumb in soothing circles. “I’m sorry, but that needs to be lit on fire and disposed of in like… a nuclear power plant or something.”

You laugh in agreement, tastebuds sobbing like dying soldiers on a battlefield. “Can I have a hug? That was traumatizing.”

Her arms spread out in invitation. She’s warm and delicate in your arms when you engulf her, hands wrapping around your neck loosely as your forearms rest at her lower back. “Sorry,” you mumble, lips pressed to the top of her head.

“It’s okay,” she assures against your chest. “But you better clean this up, I’m watching the game.”

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #fluff #wlw #gxg #lesbian #pro chef moment

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 15 days ago

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A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 31

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. Please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Potential Trigger Warnings: mentions of domestic violence, rape, therapy, depression

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

After my second show Jensen picks me up again and he starts driving towards my apartment. But as we drive back through the city streets I spot a gelato place. It’s quiet given the late hour, and I want to stop but I feel guilty. Jensen notices my sudden silence and glances over. We pass the shop and my shoulders sink, but I try to shake it off. To my surprise, he takes a U-turn at the next intersection and pulls into a park.

As he shuts of the engine he says, “Let’s go for a walk.”

“But-”

“Nope. No buts. Let’s go. It’s quiet out.” He swings his door open and I have no choice but to follow. We walk side-by-side through the surprisingly quiet streets and gaze through the dark store windows. Eventually we get a crosswalk that leads to the gelato store I spotted. He takes my hand and we cross together. We both scan the multitude of flavors before he steps forward and orders a double scoop cone with mint choc chip and chocolate. He then looks over at me for my order. I step forward and order a single scoop cone with cookies and cream ice cream with a strawberry on top. He swipes his card to pay for our order and we watch as we wait for our order.

As we’re waiting I hear a familiar voice call out my name. I turn quickly and spot my younger colleague sitting at a booth with a few friends. She climbs over a guy and comes over to us. “You told me you didn’t recognise him! Did Stewie tell you to show him around? Why you?”

I look over at Jensen apologetically and he just smiles and hold his hand out to Jenna. “I’m Jensen, nice to meet you…”

I step in to introduce them. “Jensen, this is Jenna. She works at Mamma Jo’s with me.” I then turn to Jenna. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth, but you have to understand that we didn’t want this getting out. He deserves a quiet holiday without getting mobbed by paps and fans.”

The server calls out our order and I turn to grab it while Jensen takes a selfie with her. I sigh, but I can help but be in awe of how nice and accommodating he is. Jensen hands her back her phone and I hand over his gelato. Jenna thanks Jensen and turns, but then turns back to me and says, “Guess it really pays to be the manager, huh?

I badly want to tell her the truth but I’m too scared, I just nod and say, “You have a good night. I’ll see you on Monday.”

I quickly leave the store and speed walk in the direction of the car. Jensen rushes after me and unlocks the car once I’m close. I get in and finally take a deep breath. I can feel the cold, sticky sweet dripping down the cone and onto my hand and I can’t stop the tears. I hate hiding and lying and now I hate that I’m wasting Jensen’s money. After a few moments he finally gets in the driver’s seat. He hands me some napkins I didn’t realize he grabbed. I pass him the cone so I can wipe up the mess. Onc e I've gotten most of it he hands it back and I try to eat it.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have forced that. I just really wanted to do something normal and I could tell you wanted gelato. I’m sorry if I put you in a bad situation with your work.”

I shake my head. “It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have lied to her, but what could I say…”

“Yeah…it will be great when we can just come clean to everyone. But no stress okay, we’ll work it out until you’re ready.”

”I think it’s gonna be out of our hands…if we keep going out like this it’s inevitable that there’s gonna be photos and people sharing stories online.”

“You’re probably right…Im sorry…”

After swallowing a bite of decadent waffle I look over at him and say, “but you know it’s not even that…what I wanted more than anything was to set Jenna straight. Apologise, and open up and say us being there had nothing to do with work. That instead of her seeing us together and thinking I’m your tour guide it could just be as simple as two people hanging out together. That I could have a label to give her. Are we friends? Are we more than that? I mean, with kiss, cuddle, we had more than one sit down meal together, we’ve slept in the same bed…but because I’m so fucking terrified of- Shit, I’m sorry. You don’t need to listen to this…let’s just finish this and then you can drop me off at the Subway or whatever.”

He places his free hand on my knee, but I keep my focus on what’s left of the sweet treat. “Firstly, there’s no need to apologise, if you need to vent, vent. I can listen. I am just a guy, you let me be that. So, friends, more than friends, it doesn’t make a difference. I can be here for you and listen and things will evolve at a safe pace. One that you’re comfortable with. And secondly, there’s no way in hell I’m dropping you off at the Subway at this hour. I know you take it when I’m not here and I can’t do anything about that, but we have a car tonight, so I’m not doing that to you. My best offer is that I’ll drive you back to your apartment and walk you inside or take you to Stella’s. You don’t have to spend the night with me, but you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Silence falls over the car as we both finish our gelatos. Once Jensen takes the last bite he turns on the engine and pulls out of the park. He expertly navigates back to my apartment with some help from his GPS and walks me up to my door. When I lock it and open it my eyes instantly fall on that couch again before drifting over to the counter. Terrible memories that I’ve been working so hard to repress flashback through my mind and I know Stella was right. Everything now is about so much more than just Todd.

I startle from my dreamless sleep at the sound of the door slamming. I try to squeeze my eyes shut and calm my breathing. I listen carefully as each boot hits the tiles with a thud, followed by his bag. Next the fridge opens and shuts. Then, the sound in most terrified of: the sliding doors crash back into the wall sockets. Light instantly floods the room except for in his shadow. I stare at the dark looming presence on the wall in front of me. I don’t dare move. But he doesn’t leave me a choice. He grabs my arm, my skin burning in the worst possible way, and yanks me to my feet in front of him.

”The fridge is empty. I work terrible goddamn hours, dealing with drunken idiots, the least I deserve is to come home to a meal and a welcome home kiss from my girlfriend. Instead what? You’re off trying to live some lackadaisical dream about becoming a broadway star. I never should’a put that idea in your head!” I can smell the alcohol on his breath the second he opens his mouth. Before I have a chance to respond, not that I know what to say, he pulls me out of the room and pushes me harshly against the kitchen and I slam into the counter. But I don’t have time to focus on the newest bruise forming before he’s spitting orders out at me.

I try to throw together the semblance of a meal, but he’s right the fridge is basically empty. Our measly wages barely cover the rent and utilities, not to mention his extracurriculars. I knew he was a sucker for a good bet way back in Texas, but since moving to New York he’s only gotten worse. And he never wins, so there’s nothing left for groceries. Still I obediently do my best and take the blame. His hours do trump my few at the coffee shop so I should be trying harder. As he eats and I clean up I look down at the red marks and forming bruises on my arm and I know no one will ever hire a lead who looks like this. But that far fetched dream is all I have left, so I cling to it. It quickly fades as his empty plate clatters into the sink, hitting my hand as it does.

“Now was that so hard?” He hisses as he gets up and storms into the ensuite. Once he’s out of sight I finally let the tears fall.

“Y/N, Darlin’. You okay? Where’s your head at?” I’m brought back into the moment by gentle hands on my upper arms and a comforting voice. I blink a few times to push away the memory and focus on Jensen’s concerned features. I shake my head as I feel tears prick at my eyes and dampen my cheeks. He softly pulls me into a hug with my head against his chest. “You’re safe. Just stay right here with me in this moment. I’ve got you.”

After a few minutes, I gently try to pull back and he lets me. But as my gaze settles past him, I feel myself falling back into those traumatic memories—memories that I’d pushed so far down for so long. I know the only way through is to face them, and I will, with help of my new therapist, not tonight. I wipe at my cheeks and say, barely above a whisper, “C-Can w-e go to your h-hotel? I can’t-“

He instantly nods. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

An hour later we’re cuddling on the couch in his fancy hotel room, having showered and changed into comfy clothes that could resemble pyjamas. He has his arms wrapped around me as he pulls my back against his chest. He just holds me and I feel so safe in his strong arms. He doesn’t force me to talk and try to change the subject, he just holds me silently and waits patiently for me. I lose track of how long we stay like this before I finally feel comfortable enough to talk. “I’m sorry about before…I just-I have been avoiding certain memories for so long. Pushing them down, trying to pretend it didn’t happen. And I guess with the recent…events and starting therapy they’re resurfacing. There’s other things that happened in that apartment…between me and my ex that no one knows. Things that he did…said…the way he was. Stella knows a little, but I left out a lot of the details. The reason that I have trust issues, the reason the littlest things send me into a meltdown, the reason I’m terrified of how I feel about you…” As I finish talking I look over my shoulder to see his reaction.

He just squeezes me the slightest bit tighter. “I’m not gonna lie…part of me wants you to tell me everything so I can share the burden. But I know it doesn’t work like that. You need to process it on your terms. I know even just saying what you did was a massive step for you. So, you’re doing great. And I’ll be here when you’re ready to share more.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, Darlin’. Whatever you need, I’m here. But I uh…I do wanna say something and I hope you’ll just listen and really consider it.” I sit up a little so I can look at him better. Once I’m still he continues, “I don’t think you should be alone in that apartment, especially at night. I know it’s got security now so it’s safer, but they can’t protect you from your thoughts. Whatever memories were haunting you tonight. You had a full panic attack, and I just don’t want you to have to go through that alone daily. I deliberately booked this hotel because of its proximity to yours…I can extend the booking for a few weeks or however long you need. I just want you to be comfortable and safe. I know I can’t fight your demons for you, but if I can offer this while you work through them.”

“But, Jensen I can’t-I can’t pay for it. And you-you need your money. You already have a place in Vancouver and Texas, you can’t…”

He rubs his hands gently up and down my arms. “In Vancouver I share an apartment with Jared, it’s less lonely that way and we get along great, like brothers really. So rent’s cheap enough. And I own my place in Texas, and since I’m barely there the utilities are low. I can afford this. My parents are always on my back about investing well for the future and not wasting my money. And I have. And this may be too soon to tell you or too much and I’m sorry if it is, but I want you in my future. And so I’m willing to invest in that. In you. In your most valuable asset…in your mental health.”

“Why me? I know I’ve asked before but I just-“

“It’s okay, I get it. It’s the fears, trust issues, the insecurities you mentioned. I’ll answer anything you need. Any reassurances you need to know I’m not messing with you. You remind me of home. You remind me who I was before the so called fame and craze that being Dean Winchester has thrown me into. I love Dean, I love the show, the fans all of it, it's a dream come true. But I also miss just being me. And with you I can just be me, a regular guy from Texas with a crush and a dream. And you inspire me, you remind me why I went into acting in the first place. Watching you up on stage and working so hard for your dream, it reminds me of my roots and keeps me grounded. And I want to share those passions with you. And you have a big heart, you always care for others before yourself. But now it’s time to care for you, and I know it’s hard, so I’m gonna be here every step of the way, to give you every chance to care for yourself the way you need and deserve.”

I tear up a little at his sentiments. Even in the early stages Trent and Tyler never said anything so meaningful. I can’t recall a time I’d ever felt this way, except maybe from my parents and that's different because they’re my parents, or Stella, but even that’s different, she’s my best friend. As if he can see my mind drifting again, he brings my hand up to his lips and kisses my wrist softly before just holding it against his lips.

“I can feel your heart racing,” he whispers.

I look at him and smile. “You really are a Pisces…” His eye brow lifts up in confusion, so I continue, “During a break from wedding planning, Stella looked up your star sign, she’s a sucker for all that stuff. I wasn’t sure if I really believed it, but yours definitely fits. You’re clearly very creative based on your acting skills, and you’re very in tune with your emotions. No guy has ever opened up with me the way you do. Nick and Stella are great together yet even she says he’s a man of few words. He shows his love in actions. You do both —not that I’m saying you love me— just you show you care by showing up, but you also talk in the way I need. I never thought I’d meet someone like that.”

“I guess I’ve always been a bit of an empath and comfortable with my emotions. I think it’s part of what makes me good at my job too, but I’m more glad that it helps you feel comfortable. And I won’t say that word yet, not until I know you’re ready to hear it and believe it…but I’m sure you know.”

I just nod and relax back into his arms. After some time of quiet I decide to try to open up. “Earlier, when I had that panic attack I wasn’t seeing the incident with Todd. It was my ex, Tyler. He used to come home late, tired and frustrated. And one night after a rough day, I’d failed one of my classes and got some harsh feedback from a tutor saying acting wasn’t my field and that I should consider a different dream, and so I came home and just went to bed. We had no food anyway since she barely had any money since he was a taxi driver and I was doing minimal hours at the cafe and he was addicted to gambling. But when he got home…he woke me up and made me make him dinner. But he didn’t just ask, he used to yank or push me around. That particular night he pushed me so hard I slammed into the counter. I was so covered in bruises, but he made me believe it was all my fault. If I was a better girlfriend he wouldn’t have to discipline me and continually teach me to be better.”

“I’m so sorry you went through that. I hope you know now that’s not true. You don’t owe anyone anything. You're not a child, neither were you one then you didn’t need teaching. And what he did was not discipline, not that he had any right to discipline you anyway. None of that was your fault, there was and is nothing wrong with you.”

“I’m learning that now. But it was hard then. He was a little older so I looked up to him. I trusted him. So I believed everything he said, until I caught him in our bed with someone else. I mean, I knew he was sleeping with other women, that wasn’t a surprise, he’d just never brought them back to our place before. He’d generally go back to their place.”

“And what, he fed you some shit about not being built for monogamy? Said he loved you but he needed more to be satisfied?” I stay quiet. “Well, that’s complete bullshit okay. Men, women, anyone can be monogamous if they care enough about that person. And if your partner isn’t satisfying you you either need to have an adult conversation about it, or buy a toy.” He sighs and then more quietly says, “Sorry, it’s just…I’ve known guys like that in the past and they really piss me off. I get polygamy is a thing, but only if it’s fully consensual, and I don’t believe that you gave full, knowing consent. You were gaslighted and manipulated.”

I shake my head. “I kinda knew…and I was glad. Because it meant I didn’t have to, you know. He wanted things that I wasn’t comfortable giving and more often than I could. So honestly I was a little relieved at first. But when his moods didn’t improve and he got more violent and demanding in other ways, I just thought I was failing in every way.”

“Oh Darlin’. He failed you, not the other way around. Relationships are a two way street, if you’re not both comfortable then neither should be.”

I roll over in his arms so I can face him. “Please don’t ever change.” In my head, I can imagine a happy future with the green-eyed man under me. I know it would involve a lot of long distance given our career choices, but at least I trust he would never hit me or force himself on me or deliberate hurt me in anyway. It feels like such a low bar, but given my past it’s everything.

He leans forward waiting mere inches from my lips waiting for me to make the final move. I close the distance. When he pulls back softly he whispers, “I’ll try not to.” He lays his head back against the armrest and guides his hands up and down my back, encouraging me to snuggle back down. I rest my hands against his sides and my head on his chest. We lay quietly like this until my eyes drift closed and my breath evens out.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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