#scrub store online | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mionemymind · 5 months

Text

Blood Drive

Summary: While donating at a local blood drive, Y/n stumbles up the best nurse in town, Wanda Maximoff. Unable to get Wanda out of her mind, Y/n goes through a lengthy process just to ask her out.

Warnings: Fluff, Blood Donations, Passing Out, Needles, Happy Ending

A/n: Not gonna lie, I think it's somewhat getting easier to write kissing scenes but I still have to look at a tumblr post just to figure out the wording for it. Let me know what you think :)

Word Count: 4.0k

Masterlist

In an era of new politics, the Mayor of New York City declared that registered heroes of the city had to do mandated community service. This was a new mission to help build relationships between the regular folk of New York City and the heroes that harbor it. Because let’s be honest, having Hulk throw your new car at the enemy was not the best introduction for regular people.

Those who harbored powers relaying force or strength helped out in the trade industry. You’d often see super soldiers helping out in the demolition zone by crushing what was needed. Those with magic tried their best to help heal the homeless or aided at soup kitchens. Anywhere you can unconventionally help, the heroes did.

For Y/n, it was a lot of physically demanding tasks. Such as helping families move from apartment to apartment. Or helping police officers move accidents out of the way. Sometimes, she would even demonstrate how to safely carry a person through a burning building for the local firefighters.

Today, however, Y/n decided to do something different. Rather than focusing on the same physical tasks, she chose a simpler mundane task. “Hi there, are you here for the blood drive?” Y/n nodded in agreement to the receptionist upfront. “Just sign in for me right here. Have you filled out the online rapid pass?”

“Yes, I have the QR code screenshotted.” The receptionist smiled warmly. “Perfect. Someone will be with you soon. Please have a seat in our waiting area.”

Y/n walked towards the waiting room area. This was the fourth thing on her list of community service opportunities to try. She wasn’t quite sure if her blood was even allowed to be donated, having the super soldier serum in her surely could cause a reaction to a regular human.

After some tests back at the compound, the staff found everything to be okay. That’s how Y/n ended up in a place like this.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” Getting up from her seat, Y/n followed a nurse in red scrubs to a different area. “How are you today?”

“I’m good. I'm a little nervous. I’ve never done this before.” The nurse led them to a private part of a huge common room. Multiple stations were built throughout with various people donating blood. “It’s okay to be nervous, but the worst feeling you’ll get today is just a small prick.”

Y/n breathed out slightly in relief. “Let me first get your basic information.” The nurse had gone over Y/n’s personal information but was immediately flagged by the date of birth. “It says you were born on April 2, 1917. It must’ve been a typo.”

The nurse almost changed it to 1971. “Actually ma’am, that is the correct birth date.”

“So you mean to tell me you were born during World War I?” The nurse was unwilling to believe the joke that was being played. Y/n could immediately tell from the look she gave. “It was the Great War at the time, but yes ma’am I was born in 1917. I’m actually a super soldier.”

The nurse went back to her computer and typed in more information to store on Y/n’s file. “Ah - I see. I’m sorry about that. There’s already a note on your file. It looks like your director has already approved your donation today.”

Y/n sighed in relief, while she didn’t mind explaining to people her situation of being frozen for so long, it was strenuous trying to get them to understand it all. The rest of the consultation went along smoothly as she gathered the remaining information such as Y/n’s hemoglobin and her rapid pass.

“Alright dear, let’s get you to a bed.” The nurse led them back to the common area where all the beds were laid out. “Just sit right here for me, right now we currently have a special volunteer today that’s helping out with the drive. She’ll come over in a couple of seconds to help you out. But if you have any questions, please feel free to let us know.”

Y/n sat up on the reclined bed and looked at her phone. She scrolled through her messages to make sure nothing important was happening. The sound of someone clearing their throat gained her attention. “Y/n?” As Y/n looked up, she could physically feel the moment that time stopped again. Was it possible that she fell back into the ice again? Surely she would feel the same numbness as before. But it was all different. Because from just one look from this girl would be enough to melt all the ice away.

Y/n’s breath hitched as she locked eyes with her. “I- yes, that’s me.” Y/n cleared her throat, embarrassed at the lack of composure she had.

“Nice to meet you today. My name is Wanda Maximoff and I’ll be helping you with your blood donation today.” All Y/n could do was nod as she further realized that the woman in front of her was the Scarlet Witch.

Wanda looked through her notes on the clipboard. “It looks like it’s your first time donating, is that true?” Y/n’s eyes remained locked on Wanda. It was embarrassing how much she couldn’t look away. “Uh yes. It is.”

“Do you have a preference on which arm you would like to use today?” Y/n shook her head in disagreement. “No preference at all.”

Wanda wrote down more information when a note caught her eye. “S.H.I.E.L.D. approval - are you a member?” Wanda looked over at the young girl in front of her trying to see if she could remember the pretty face.

“I’m one of their new recruits. Only been active for three months.” And suddenly, Y/n seemed to never mind all the questions that Wanda could possibly ask. If it meant talking to her, Y/n would oblige.

“That’s great to hear. If you don’t mind me asking, do you have any powers that we should be aware of?”

“Well, I think you’re aware of my counterpart, Bucky Barnes. We both have a super soldier serum.” Wanda smiled at the mention of her old teammate/acquaintance.

“Interesting. How come I haven’t heard about you before?” Wanda couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow she had managed to miss this girl for three months.

Y/n scratched the back of her neck sheepishly. “You know how Steve was found in ice right?” Wanda nodded. “That’s basically the same situation I was in but rather than crashing into the arctic, I was in a freezer chamber. I’ve been awake for only ten months.” The shock on Wanda’s face was apparent.

“Sorry to keep asking,” Y/n never minded, “how has it been like adjusting back to the new life?” Y/n shrugged indifferently.

“A little rough. I do miss my friends back from my time, but Bucky has been trying his best to help me. However, he has been focused on helping the new Captain America, Sam?”

Wanda nodded, confirming that Y/n’s information was correct. “I do enjoy the fact that I’m no longer Hydra’s soldier though. More than anything, I’m just glad to have a second chance in life. Not a lot of people get that so I’m pretty thankful.”

Wanda digested Y/n’s words and was pretty enlightened at Y/n’s outlook on life. “Thank you for answering all my questions.”

“It’s no problem.”

“Now, let's get you set up to donate.” Wanda proceeded to bring out a couple of items from the nearby stand. On the table beside Y/n, Wanda placed various tubes and empty bags. Although it was nothing, the sight made Y/n feel slightly uncomfortable. It reminded her too much of Hydra’s labs but minus the dark atmosphere and torture that came with it.

As if sensing her discomfort, Wanda grabbed a disinfectant and started to disinfect Y/n’s left arm around the area inside her elbow. “Ya know, for being so nice and cooperative. How about you ask me a couple of questions? It makes the day go by faster.”

Bringing herself out of her internal thoughts, Y/n asked the first thing that came to mind. “You’re the Scarlet Witch, right?”

It was Wanda’s turn to blush. She hadn’t expected Y/n to recognize her so quickly, especially since she just got back to the real world. “I am.”

“I wasn’t aware that you could help with the American Red Cross as part of your community service.” Wanda grabbed a marker and a squeezable toy. She placed the toy in Y/n’s left hand stating, “Give me three big squeezes and hold on the last squeeze.”

While pressing around Y/n’s elbow, she continued with, “I had to do some training to get qualified. A lot of the people who use magic generally help in other areas.” Wanda marked a dot followed by a line. “You can stop squeezing now.”

“I’m gonna disinfect one more time and then I’ll have to poke you. Are you scared of needles?” Feeling more embarrassed, Y/n looked away as she said, “Yes.”

“All good. Just means I’ll have to give you a small distraction.” Wanting to distract herself even more, Y/n asked, “Why did you decide to do this rather than something in your wheelhouse?”

Wanda thought about it before replying with, “I like the normalcy of it. On the plus side, it feels more rewarding. Like I’m actually earning my community time rather than going the easy way of using my powers.” As Wanda finished disinfecting, she blew on Y/n’s elbow hoping it would dry fast.

“When I give you the go-ahead, I’ll have to ask you to give me three more squeezes and hold on to the last one, okay?” Y/n nodded and waited for the signal.

“And - go.” Y/n did as told, but as she did her last squeeze and held, red wispy magic flowed in front of her morphing into swirls in the air. “Woah.” She followed the magic with her eyes, not even noticing that Wanda had already poked her and started the transfusion.

“Should be about 10 minutes. Every couple of seconds give the toy a small squeeze to keep it going.” Y/n glanced away from the magic amazed with Wanda. “That didn’t even hurt.” For the first time in Y/n’s life, she didn’t scream when the needles came.

Wanda couldn’t help but keep the magic up for a little longer. The dopey look on Y/n’s face was something she didn’t want to go away.

“I told you I would distract you.” Y/n was at a loss of words. Her brain jumbled for anything but all she could focus on was that Wanda Maximoff successfully distracted her. She had a natural caring heart, something the media failed to show.

“Your magic is beautiful by the way.” Y/n savored the last few seconds of it before it completely disappeared.

Wanda’s magic has been called many things in life, powerful, destructive, and manipulative but none have ever said beautiful…till now. “Thank you Y/n.”

There was a small silence as Wanda stayed to make sure Y/n was okay. “I’ll be assisting other volunteers, but if you start to feel like you're fainting, just call me over, okay?”

“I will.” Would it have been wrong to immediately fake an injury just to get Wanda back? Possibly but Y/n weighed the consequences and none could compare to her. So as Wanda left, Y/n used her free hand to call Bucky. After a couple of rings, he picked up the phone. “Hey, Y/n.”

Getting straight to the point, “Is Wanda Maximoff single?”

“Uhh - I think so. She and this synthezoid, Vision, used to date but I believe they broke up a year ago. Why do you ask?” Y/n looked at Wanda who was across the room. Her radiant smile could be spotted from miles away. “Just wanting to gather intel. Thanks Bucky.”

Y/n hung up the phone, not caring about what Bucky had to say back. Her eyes lingered back to Wanda. No matter how much she distracted herself with her phone, her eyes always glanced back on Wanda Maximoff. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail and all she wore was matching red scrubs. But everything about her looked and felt beautiful.

Little did Y/n know, Wanda was admiring her too.

The blood donation was soon over, quicker than Y/n anticipated. Wanda had already come over, stopped the machine, and disconnected the line from Y/n’s arm. She taped a cotton ball on top of the area she poked and proceeded to wrap a red bandage around Y/n’s elbow. “You keep this red bandage on for two hours and the cotton ball for four hours.”

Wanda grabbed a pamphlet that had Y/n’s personal information and gave it to her. “Don’t miss a single meal for the next eight weeks. Make sure to drink plenty of water as well. If you feel dizzy in the next couple of hours, be sure to call this number, okay?”

Y/n nodded. Her mind was elsewhere at the moment, trying to find ways to ask Wanda Maximoff out. “Do you have any questions for me though?”

Y/n opened her mouth, wanting to ask her, “Are you busy after this?” But nothing came out. And the more she tried to say words, the more silence that remained.

“Wanda!” The pair turned to the employee that shouted her name. “I have someone that needs your help after you're done with your current volunteer.”

“Understood.” Wanda looked back at Y/n. “We have snacks and shirts over there but I think you should be good now. Thank you for donating today.”

As Wanda walked off, Y/n couldn’t help but beat herself up for not asking. She took a couple snacks and juice boxes before walking out of the donation center.

Was Y/n in love? Not quite yet. Infatuated? Probably. It was the best explanation as to why she was back at the blood drive the very next day. The brown eyed girl paced around all night trying to think of ways to see Wanda again. And the very first realistic idea she thought of was to donate blood again.

The super soldier practically begged the compound to give her another approval to donate blood stating that her super serum allowed for faster recovery. When no one could argue with her logic, they allowed a special approval to donate so soon.

So when Y/n followed all the same directions, all the same questions, she was met with disappointment when she didn’t see the redhead that captured her mind. “Hi, my name is Lucy and I’ll be helping you today.”

As Lucy proceeded to set up, Y/n couldn’t help but ask, “Is Wanda Maximoff here today?”

The blonde shook her head with a small smile. “I’m sorry dear. She’s not going to be here today.” Y/n couldn’t hold back the frown that escaped. It was stupid to think that Wanda would come back the very next day, but she had hope.

And as much as Y/n wanted to ask when she’ll be back, she knew the blood center wouldn’t give out information like that. Regardless, Y/n was determined. She was going to see Wanda again.

It was a new month and a new day. Although Y/n was glad to help a good cause, her hope waned as each day passed with no Wanda. By now, everyone in the blood center knew Y/n by name. On the bright side, the other volunteers were not bad to talk to but none compared to her.

So as Y/n sat down once again, she scrolled on her phone, expecting much disappointment. Until the voice that captured her heart called her name. “Y/n?”

She looked up from her phone and saw that familiar smile that was ingrained in her head. “Wanda.” Y/n couldn’t hold her smile back as she finally saw the girl that she’s been begging to see.

“Looks like you’re here for you…18th donation? Look at you being a star citizen.” Y/n blushed knowing that those donations were mainly for something else. “I think by now you should know the drill. Are there any concerns you may have?”

Wanda looked back at Y/n, ready to disinfect her arm. “I-” Y/n’s brain short circuited at the feeling of Wanda’s hands on her arm. It was like everything that she wanted to say suddenly left her brain. But the feeling was just on the tip of her tongue.

“You know, they should give you a badge or something for donating so much. I didn’t even know that was possible. Didn’t you start donating like last month?” Again, not a single thought formulated in Y/n’s head when all she could focus on was how soft Wanda’s hands were. Because if Y/n was able to focus, she would be able to say that her donation was 17 days, 13 hours, and 5 minutes ago. But who was counting?

Wanda looked back at Y/n’s chart to confirm her suspicions. “Are you still scared of needles though?” And that’s when Y/n finally got back into the real world. For all the times she’s been back, she’s had to look away from the needle while using a nearby pillow to control her nerves.

“I think I might need your magic again.” Y/n blushed at the request but felt proud at the smug look that came from Wanda. “I might have to start charging you for the show.”

With sudden blind confidence, Y/n asked, “Let me take you out on a date in return.” Wanda almost missed the vein at Y/n’s sudden question. She had an inkling that the girl liked her but never expected her to actually pursue her thoughts.

“You didn’t even need it.” Y/n looked down and saw that Wanda had poked her without realizing it.

“Does that mean you won’t go?” Wanda looked at the time on the clock and smiled at Y/n.

“It actually means you have three hours till my shift is up.” Wanda patted Y/n’s arm, reminding her to squeeze the ball in her hand. “So pick me up then. How should I dress?”

“Something casual. I hadn’t really planned out what I was going to do after you said yes.” Wanda blushed at the idea of Y/n practicing this moment.

“How about this? You and I walk around New York. I don’t think the guys have given you much of a good tour. So I’ll tell you all about the new New York and you tell me about the old New York.”

“You have a deal.”

Wanda and Y/n were in the back seat of an uber. The small date was something Y/n never wanted to end but the lack of energy made it hard to keep up. So when Y/n asked if it could be an early night, she was relieved that Wanda wasn’t mad at her.

Right now, the uber was at a stoplight and the two hardly spoke as their shoulders touched.

“Can I hold your hand?” Y/n whispered as she lightly placed her hand above Wanda’s. The small smile was hard to miss on Wanda’s face. She could feel Y/n’s internal battle to ask her that. She leaned into Y/n’s ear and whispered, “You don’t even have to ask,” and pressed a small kiss on Y/n’s cheek as they interlaced hands.

A small blushed and a wide grin appeared on Y/n’s face. “I hope you had fun today.” Looking away, Y/n yawned into her hand.. “You tired dekta?”

Looking back at her, Y/n tilted her head in confusion. “Dekta? What does that mean?” Wanda blushed more. She hadn’t meant to call Y/n that, but it left her lips so easily. Like it was second nature.

“I’ll tell you later,” Wanda placed her left hand on Y/n’s bicep and gave it a small squeeze, “Aren’t you supposed to be a super soldier? It's barely past 10 pm and you’re already tired.” Y/n scratched the back of her neck, slightly embarrassed at how tired she was. But all Wanda could focus on was the feeling of Y/n’s muscles as she gave one more squeeze.

Y/n yawned again, unable to fight the sleep that took over her body. “It’s what happens when you donate blood every day to try and see a pretty girl.” They hadn’t even kissed but Wanda could’ve sworn she was in love. The dopey smile on Y/n’s face would make any girl’s heart melt. The red head mentally thanked that it was her that Y/n was looking at and nobody else.

“You did that for me?” Y/n could think of many things she would do for Wanda, rescue a billion people, punch a hole in the moon, even kidnap someone. Regardless of how unrealistic it was, Wanda Maximoff was worth changing the tides on Earth. So how could someone so wonderful could ever question that someone would do something for her attention?

“I wanted to see you again.” Y/n bit her inner cheek, trying her best to stay calm but all she could think about was how soft Wanda’s lips looked.

The red head hadn’t meant to hear that thought, but she was glad she did. She bit her lip wishing that Y/n would just kiss her already. But something about the way they stared into each other's eyes was already enough for her to feel alive. And for someone so sober, her body grew drunk at the touch of Y/n.

“So you donated blood to see me?” It was still all unbelievable to Wanda but Y/n would tell her a million times until she believed it.

Their eyes interlocked causing Wanda’s breathing to hitch. She swore she could look into those brown eyes forever. “18 pints and counting.” Y/n couldn’t hold back her grin as Wanda looked away, unable to hold back her wide smile.

Y/n gave a gentle squeeze in their interlaced hands as Wanda turned back to face Y/n. “You’re gonna get yourself sick if you keep donating.” Wanting to focus on something else, Y/n caressed Wanda’s cheek as she tucked a loose strand back.

Not wanting her touch to go away, Wanda placed her hand above Y/n’s. So many thoughts ran through both of their heads. Wanda could feel the weight inside Y/n’s mind but didn’t dare to peak.

“Tell me what you’re thinking…”

“...I think you’re really pretty,” Y/n admitted in secret.

“What else?” Y/n rubbed her thumb gently across Wanda’s cheek.

“I think I want to take you out on a second date.”

“Oh yeah?”

“And I…I think I want to kiss you.” Wanda swallowed all the nerves in her chest.

“...I’d really like that…” And as brown eyes looked at greens eyes one more time, Y/n slowly leaned in and kissed Wanda. There was no rush with each kiss, something Wanda never experienced before. All she could remember was the sloppy kisses and fast make outs. But something about kissing Y/n slowly drove heart mad because how dare she live this long without being kissed like this.

And as they kissed, their hands never broke apart, instead, they gave gentle squeezes with every kiss. And when slowly pulled apart, Wanda knew then she was love sick.

Bonus

“Let me get this straight,” Bucky rubbed his forehead, feeling the headache coming forth, “Y/n passed out from kissing you?”

“Well, the kissing didn’t help but she also donated 18 pints of blood in the last three weeks.” Wanda looked at Y/n’s sleeping figure. Her head rested comfortably on Wanda’s lap.

Bucky sighed. “Okay, I’ll meet you at her place.”

Taglist: @halobaby @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog

@sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me

@ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha

@itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @coxmicbabygirl @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff

@imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy@olsensnpm @psychadelichues @whitelotus00 @taliiiaasteria @tynix @autorasexy @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hiiraya

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #fluff #Blood Drive #mionemymind #wanda maximoff fluff

764 notes · View notes

eloquent-edits · 7 months

Text

🗡️ “That time of the month again?”

because we all know that periods suck and characters are not immune to the horrors 🗡️ prompt list of comforting actions

Character A is bedridden from the cramps and Character B becomes their living heating pad (cuddles with arms wrapped around the waist >>>>)

B buys A their favorite chocolates a couple days before their period starts and keeps beverages with electrolytes on hand

A takes a day off to rest, bingewatch some episodes of a good show, and care for themselves (maybe do some yoga, and by yoga I mean curl up in the fetal position for a couple hours)

B thinks that making a nice bath for A will help and prepares everything for when A gets home (A laughs and explains why that’s not a great idea)

Searching for Shark Week’s episodes online to deal with shark week in person, but getting distracted by cute animal shows

B can’t be there for A in person so they send A $30 to cover extra snacks and/or medicine

Instead of getting emotional over posts online, A digs out an old book series and gets emotional over that (they are reliving their childhood, they swear it’s cathartic THEY SWEAR)

A can’t sleep with the back pain so B gives them a light back massage with several check-ins to make sure the noises are in relief and not pain

B keeps the lights dim and and TV volume low as A battles a headache

All meals are made with ahead of time and cravings humored (“You can’t just eat straight salt.” “I know that, which is why I’m putting all of it on this.”)

A asks for B to get more pads/tampons at the store, B calls and sends many pictures as they try to figure out what will work best for A

B quietly scrubs out any bloodstains from A’s clothes as they do laundry (and they’re really efficient at it, why are they so good at getting blood out of clothing—)

A snuggling up with their pet who knows the exact spot to be in for maximum comfy (B thinks it’s adorable and takes a picture to show A later)

“I’m sorry if I’m not really conversational right now…” “Dude you’re on your period and barely slept last night, you’re good. We don’t have to talk, we can just chill.”

B brings home a machine for homemade ice-cream and all the ingredients needed for A’s favorite flavor (they spend the evening making it and declare a “dessert before dinner” day for when periods strike)

#writing #writing prompts #prompts #period comfort #character dynamics #character prompts #otp prompts #imagine your otp #prompt list #care prompts #comfort prompts #action prompts #acts of service ✨#if you can’t tell this is absolutely self-indulgent #I got cuddles yesterday and I WANT MORE IT WASN’T ENOUGH #please somebody buy me my favorite icecream and watch cute shows with me

1K notes · View notes

certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 4 months

Text

stalker!reader/unsub!reader for spencer reid

tw: mentions of blood, graphic descriptions of murder, usual CM gore, suicide.

-noticing him one day when he was at your job for a case asking questions about a victim/killer. i’m gonna say season 4 reid (before he gets shot in the leg). you were stuck to the shadows just observing him and his colleague when boom! his eyes meet yours and you feel a spark, your body tingles. he noticed you.

-he walks away from his colleague who was talking with your boss, towards you, hands in his pockets and this long wavy hair swaying with his motions. he stopped three steps away from you and said, “hello, i’m doctor reid, with the fbi. i was wondering if i could ask some questions about…” his voice was deep and smooth, he pulled you into a hypnotic trance. you just nodded and answered his questions honestly.

-he came back a second time, just saying that the case was over. that was it, you weren’t even personally involved, but he came back for you. he must’ve felt that same spark, that pull to someone magnetic. he even gave you his card and said, “if you even are in area or in need of help, just ask for me.” now how could you not be obsessed with that man after that.

-so you started to follow all the cases the fbi or bau was mentioned, hoping for a glimpse of the names spencer or dr. reid. you kept a folder of photos captured of him from news footage or newspaper articles, red inked hearts circled his head while anyone else was harshly scrubbed away in black ink. his gentle smiles or lovely eyes pierced at your heart each time, it was slowly bleeding into your lungs filling you up to suffocation. you need spencer reid.

-when cases went quiet you started to search relentlessly for him online. you forced yourself to ingest every thesis paper he’s ever written and watch any lecture that was posted. he drew you in with the wave of his hands or how he would ramble then bring himself back to the topic at hand. how you wanted to pick his brain, just sit and listen to him for hours taking about anything he’s stored away.

-it’s been a year since that case. you miss him, you want him in your grasp. maybe you should put that business card to use and just call it, that’d be a lot easier. so you mustered up the courage, pulling the card from your wallet and dialing his number you breathed slowly and pressed call. the line rang three times before it picked up and you heard his voice, “dr. reid, how can i help?”

“uh, this is y/n…” he said he’d remember you so you just gave your name for recognition. the line was quiet for three seconds and you could hear some faint chatter on his end before he responded, “i’m sorry, i- i don’t seem to-“ and you hung up the call before he could break your heart further. he lied.

-it was like you just went through a breakup for a relationship that wasn’t even real. your bleeding heart completely cracked and spilled like fire through your veins. spencer reid is going to regret ever forgetting you and his promise. so you started to do some studying, researching past cases with the bau involved, looking for inspiration from convicted killers

-you find some that were unique but still easy to accomplish with your own physic in play. most of these killers were men, stronger and taller than you. you start to craft your calling cards, poems and roses, anything symbolic to a relationship and heartbreak. you’re nervous your first night on the hunt. you decide to go a bar and wait for someone to make their way into your web.

-you’d dance on them and kiss them, closing your eyes shut and imagining this it what spencer would taste like, how his hands trailing over your curves would release butterflies in your belly. his breath ghosting along your pulse before sucking a bruise into your skin. “wanna get out of here?” seductive eyes watching your toy nod and drag you behind him out the club, heading to his place.

-the make out session was hot and getting steamy, pushing him in the direction of his bedroom. you played the kinky card, “gonna tie you up and gag you, be a good boy.” left in nothing but his boxers he was bond and gagged. playing a teasing game you left him alone while looking for some type of weapon. pulling a pair of black gloves from your clutch and the pointiest knife from a drawer you dragged yourself back to his bed, straddling him at the waist, keeping your hands behind your back. “you’ve made this night very special. wanna know why?” playing coy while pulling the gag down from a second.

the toy cocked a brow with a shit eating smirk, “of course, doll face.” his eyes dropping to your chest and it caused you to grimace. “you’re the first victim of many.” whispered as you slid the fabric back into his mouth

“wait wh-“ muffled when you stabbed him with an angered forced into his heart. his screams were still loud but with music playing in the background and his mouth full, no one would be the wiser.

-you called in sick for the next few days, needing to be consistent for the bau to be called in. you’d go to clubs or even strip clubs, any place that’d have willing men bring you home preying on you while you were the pretender. you kept the killings pretty simple, just stabs to the heart and letting them bleed out, you started to draw heart on their walls from their blood, the red turning black when drying. and finally before leaving a folded note with a poem or a piece of your soul written out was safety pinned to their skin.

-the news started to call you ‘the heartbreak killer’ stupid, but they always wanted to give killers case names. adding a new flare to your lastest kill, you’ve scattered red and white rose petals over their body and a ruby red kiss to their cheek. your fifth victim in a week period. you had a hunger for it now, killing gave you an adrenaline rush that was better than any rollercoaster or scary movie, you vibrate with excitement each night. you started dressing more bolder, wearing wigs even, making sure you stood out for anyone that was connected to your toy of the night.

- “we’ve called in the fbi behavior analysis unit to help us find this serial killer. with them here we plan to catch them before there is another victim.” goosebumps scattered over your forearms hearing the sheriff’s announcement. finally, he’s here. your spencer reid came for you. “in do time, my love. we’ll be reunited properly.”

-you took a sixth life the night they arrived, wanting them to know your usual stalking grounds. it would be easier to ‘accidentally’ bump into spencer, rather than actively search him out. so the next day you dressed down, wanting to look more normal, become a wallflower. you were nursing a drink in a shaded corner with watching eyes surveying the crowed hoping to see the tall dr. reid. “uh, excuse me, miss.” your heart skipped a beat, it recognized his voice even over the thumping music rattling your skull.

you turned his way casually and said, “you’re very pretty,” sipping on the black straw of your soda. spencer smiled hesitantly and floundered for a response, “uh tha- thank you. i’m dr. spencer reid i work with the fbi-“ he flashed his badge and you caught a glimpse of a younger photo, “there’s been a series of murders in the area and we suspect the killer visits here. have you seen anything suspicious lately?”

your nostrils flared, he still didn’t remember you not even face to face. “well all men are suspicious in clubs,” dulled chuckles at your retort. you saw spencer’s eyebrows quirked, “are- are you by yourself?” he sounded concerned for a stranger, but you weren’t a stranger. “yeah, my friends left me a few hours ago but i just didn’t want to go home yet.” shrugging him off.

he licked his lips, “well i’d suggest not visiting his establishment for the time being.” “but all her victims are men, so i’m safe. but thanks for the concern, nice to meet you doctor.” and you left the crowded bar with a smirk knowing you gave him a hint.

-you went to work the following day, just telling your coworkers you came down with food poisoning and needed and extra day to recover. they cooed over you but you knew most of them didn’t care, its fine you weren’t planning to stay here forever like most. you were cleaning tables and fixing displays when there was a tap to your shoulder. brittany, a coworker, pointed over her shoulder and said, “there’s a spencer reid here to see you. says he’s with the fbi.” you had to repress your smile.

“dr. reid, pleasure to see you again.” a welcoming smile and open posture. he cocked his head, “i- i remember you. from last year…” it’s like you could see his gears turning and clicking things into place. you didn’t bother denying anything just saying, “wow, what a great memory you have.”

his round eyes stared into your soul, “eidetic memory. you called me a month ago…” now you showed confusion, “no i didn’t. sadly lost your card, but i’m safe. we should have dinner while you’re here.” being bold.

spencer nodded his head, “that sounds nice. tomorrow night works for me, i could meet you here.” he seemed excited to have a romantic date with you. your heart raced, “it’s a date.” and you headed back to your work.

-you changed into date appropriate clothing once you clocked out and waited five minutes outside before you saw the tall spencer reid walking up to your side. he had a sweater vest over a button up with a tie around his neck, his gun wasn’t holstered to his hip for the night and his hair was a bit wind swept. you could eat him up.

“bet you have a bunch of girls after you while away on cases.” walking beside him when he suggested an chinese restaurant just down the block. he chuckled, oh your heart stuttered at the melody, “not really. most people don’t like my… personality.” sneaking a glance at you.

“well they’re missing out, but happy since i’m the lucky girl at your side.” looping an arm through his and pulling his close so you could lean your head onto his bicep. “i’ve dreamed of this since you left.” sighing into the air then pressing a kiss to his fabric covered skin, later you’ll get to taste him.

- “i have a question for you.” it’s been an hour into your date, stomach filled with delicious food and effortless conversation. you nodded at spencer to go forward. “at the bar you said the unsub was a women, what made you think that? no sex has been mentioned in the news yet.”

you pursed your lips in thought, “well, stabs to the heart seems emotionally personal. and the hearts in blood and rose petals, along with her leaving love poems. only a hopeless romantic that was horribly heartbroken would do this art.” slurping noodles into your mouth for punctuation. you weren’t trying to hide your truth, “it was the only way to get your attention.”

- “my attention?” spencer questioned. “well, i’ve missed you and when i tried calling-“ “so that was you.” “and you lied about remembering me!” slamming a fist onto the tabletop forcing it to shake. you leaned in close, “i thought we had something special. you didn’t bother trying to reach me in anyway and i’ve stayed updated with your career.”

“i- im sorry, y/n. my job is just very demanding. i would’ve reached out. i- i didn’t think you felt the way i did.” spencer stretched a hand over the table and rested it atop yours, his long fingers curling along your wrist.

“oh baby, the spark when we first met was instant. i was devoted to you the moment our eyes met, i’d do anything for you.” allowing your other hand to creep up spencer’s arm. “i’d kill myself for you if you asked, i’ve killed for you. would you do the same for me?” doeing your eyes and pouting your lips.

spencer leaned forward, his eyes dropping to your lips then back to your eyes, “anything for you, my love.” whispered just between the two of you. you smiled wickedly, “wanna head to my place?”

-once your door was unlocked and open you pounced onto spencer, hands holding his cheeks so you could press your lips onto his. his palms gripped at your hips and pulled your flush to his chest as his mouth devoured yours, moans ripped from your throat.

“fbi! hands in the air!” heavy footsteps and loud shouts broke the air. you didn’t bother acknowledging them, just submerging yourself into spencer until his arms twisted you around and held you in a tight hug. “don’t fight them. stay alive for me.” spencer whispered in your ear before pressing a kiss to your temple.

-six months. you’ve been institutionalized for six months since your lawyer pleaded insanity to the court. said you did everything because you started to stalk and become obsessive with doctor spencer reid. you didn’t bother mentioning that the killings made you feel stable. you’ve been sentenced for twenty five years to life, chances of parole after fifteen years. your family rarely visited you, you didn’t care. you only enjoyed visitation when he was there.

“the doctor is here.” an officer pulled you from the library to bring you into the visitation center. nervously you fiddled with your hair, straightening your beige uniform, wanting to appear put together for your boyfriend. he wasn’t your actual boyfriend, but he allowed you to call him that.

“hi baby.” sidling into your seat across from him, a gigantic smile hurting your cheeks. he wore his standard outfit, sweater vest over a long sleeve button up, no tie today and his collarbones were on display for you along with his forearms. “you look very sexy today.”

“and you look quite pretty today.” spencer visits you once a week at most, sometimes twice if he’s already in the state for a case. you heard it was cause your psychiatrist told him that your symptoms were worse if he was gone for long periods at a time causing you to act out and harm yourself or others. but you know it’s cause he loves you.

“what book are you reading today?” jerking his head to the worn spine. you peered down at the titles with a twisted smile then looked him dead in the eyes, “romeo and juliet. quiet the love story don’t you think?”

#erin writes #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #stalker!reader #unsub!reader

268 notes · View notes

urlittlevenicebitchh · 1 year

Text

𝟏𝟓𝟎 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

go for a walk

take a nap

go to a pet store

play just dance

look at grosspo

find a new aesthetic

design your dream wardrobe

read

make a list of movies/tv shows/books you want to watch/read

color

write a short story

make a vision board

journal

make spotify playlists

write a letter to your future self

go to the gym

draw your dream body

have a photoshoot

explore somewhere new

join discord/insta/tumblr groups

writeaprisoner.com

learn a language on duolingo

make a new social media account

find new makeup + hairstyles to practice

watch a childhood movie

declutter your phone

online quizes

at-home spa day

make a time capsule

play roblox or minecraft

make a photo wall

start a manifestation journal

test old pens and markers

rearrange furniture in your room

unsubscribe from emails

make a birthday/holiday wishlist

upcycle old clothes

make a bucket list

clean your car or room

declutter bags

find a new podcast to listen to

update your resume

apply to jobs

paint or draw

practice gratitude

yoga

start a bullet journal

create a 5 year plan

start a free course

discover new music

work on your insta feed

sell clothes online

start a blog

organize a drawer

clean your makeup brushes

learn a new skill

start a youtube channel or podcast

call a family member

build a puzzle

plan your week

paint your nails

learn a new dance

laundry

write a letter to a friend

find a pen pal

write 3 short-term goals

work on current goals

plan your next vacation

explore your neighborhood

do a face mask

organize your closet

find new blogs to follow

do a hair mask

do mirror work

take a shower or bath

pinterest crafts

watch youtube

tan

dust your room

tye dye clothes

facetime friends

make a comfy fort

invite a friend over

go to the mall

amusement park

homework!!

binge a movie/tv series

make slime

scrapbook

sidewalk chalk

have a tea party

make friendship bracelets

thrift

plant a flower

go through old magazines + make collages

hand massage

make your own face scrub

create a skincare routine

research something you've been meaning to learn more about

make popsicles

create a budget

drink water!!!

meal plan

watch a random documentary

follow new tags on tumblr/insta

hug your pet

organize stationary

watch a ted talk

clean mirrors in your house

reply to old texts

write your own list of things to do

make lists

visit a museum

go to the beach

meditate

tidy your desk

make a warm drink

practice hand lettering

vaccum

5 minute doodles

follow a disney animation lesson (youtube)

watch animal videos

online crossword puzzles

origami

find live shows in your area

play board games

go for a drive

go through junk drawer

pick flowers

start a nature journal

do therapy worksheets from pinterest

make weekend plans

research your family tree

create your own game

make a fruit salad

print coloring worksheets

poetry

ride a bike

play a childhood game (mine's animal jam :) )

search for your spirit animal

paint rocks

random act of kindness

make a busy box

plan a yard sale

start/join a book club (can be virtual :) )

shop ikea online

make room decor

closet fashion show

355 notes · View notes

sensei-venus · 8 months

Note

Tanner in an interview getting asked about a rumor his gf is pregnant and him deflecting the question bc it's true but they aren't ready yet to tell

(Unedited) (Pregnant Reader)

“So there has been a very big rumor going around as of lately, I assume you have already heard about it going around?”

“I already know what your going to ask.” Tanner laughed as he sat up him his chair. They had been in this interview for almost a whole hour now. He was itching to just get up and leave.

“So, are the rumors true that you and your long-time girlfriend, Reader, might be expecting?” the reporter asked. They guys face was lit up as he asked the question.

Tanner gave a small shrug while saying “Well I believe a while ago both me and Reader actually gave a statement about kids.” the reporter seemed to sit on edge as he went on “We both would love to possibly have them one day. The both of us have discussed it quite a lot. Before and after we started our relationship.” his tone was filled with happiness. It was true that the couple talked about kids a lot in their time together. Both of them wanting to raise a family together.

The reporter raised a brow “So you confirm that you and Reader are pregnant now?” the reporter seemed on edge. The way he seemed to almost sit on the very edge of his seat was telling.

The recent surge of rumors that the young star couple where pregnant was flying around every social media platform. It took off the minute Reader was spotted at a baby store in LA. She was photographed by a passerby coming out of the shop with a large bag of unidentified items. The photos also captured her placing the the bag in her car before driving off. She was dressed in a very plain outfit of just a long baggy shirt and yoga pants.

Most fans were separating the possible pregnancy after the couple had taken a week-long vacation not long after the pictures were taken. Taking themselves out of the limelight for a brief moment and stepping away from the public.

Super fans were pulling up cancelation sheets of upcoming movies that Reader had supposedly been cast for but now her name was no longer on. New movie releases were scrubbing her name from feature boards. Already editing her name off of movies that were set to start filing in the following months.

It didn't hell the rumors that Reader had yet to make a public appearance after those pictures were leaked online.

“All I can really say is that we have talked about it before. The rumors are just that, rumors going around because my girlfriend went to a kid's store. I mean we have a lot of friends and family a lot of them have kids. She might have just been picking up a gift for one of them. You know how Reader loves giving gifts.” he laughed.

“So you can't say if it's true or not?” the reporter was starting to get more pissy with Tanner. His voice growing higher as he tried to dig more at the situation. Clearly trying to get a big scoop from this low-level interview.

Tanner was able to see right through his little game.

The interview was thankful cut short when Tanner's phone rang and the timer on their meeting went off seconds later. The guy who had been interviewing him looked totally defeated. With Tanner keeping tightlipped on the topic he didn't get much out of him. There would be no big scoop for his company.

Walking off he picked up the call, smiling he answered “Hey babe how are you doing? Better than earlier I hope?” a small hum was heard on the other side of the phone.

Reader rolled around on their bed for a moment before turning over. She shoved a pillow under her head as she went back to her phone. She sighed “I'm doing a little better…” she paused for a moment and looked down at herself. She knew she wasn't showing just yet, maybe if you looked hard enough you could see the smallest bump forming under the chubbiness of her belly. Running a hand over her belly she smiled “My stomach still feels all funky but that's to be expected I guess.” she giggled a little.

Tanner gabe a small smile as he walked.

“Did they pester you about those stupid pictures?”

“A little but it was nothing I couldn't handle so don't worry about it too much.”

Reader chewed in her lip a little, the trip to the baby store was a split second decision on her part.

“I know I shouldn't have gone out like that. I should have just ordered something online and had it delivered.”

“Babe no, you wanted to go out and do something special to tell me about-” he looked around for a second. Making sure there was no one around to overhear their conversation. “The baby and I wouldn't change that for anything. It was super sweet and such a surprise, I loved it.” a small laugh was heard on the other end making him grin.

“How about I bring you some ginger ale to try and help with the morning sickness?” Tanner said as he finally reached his car in the parking lot. As he unlocked it he heard a small sigh from Reader.

“I would love that actually oh and if you could pick up a big pretzel? The big soft ones?” he could practically hear the longing in her voice.

“I'll pick up two just in case, I'll see you in a little it. Love you.”

“I love you too Tanner, see you when you get back.”

#cobra kai #cobra kai blog #cobra kai ask blog #tanner buchanan x reader #tanner buchanan #tanner buchanan x chubby reader #pregnant reader #pregnant!reader #chubby reader #hot celebs #celebs #celebrities #celebrity x reader

142 notes · View notes

master-sass-blast · 5 months

Text

Let's (Not) Party, Baby.

Summary: You rub your swollen belly, both fond and exhausted. “I think it just feels weird to me. Like, the gender reveal party was to celebrate the healthy pregnancy lasting so long. But I just feel really weird about being, like, ‘I’m growing a human, come give me shit.’”

Kitty laughs as she unwraps another bar of chocolate. “Well, I think it’s the duty of the community to support pregnant mothers, y’know? It’s about equipping the parents with what they need to care for the baby.”

“Yeah, but everything I’ve read about and seen online is a whole spectacle,” you grumble. “And, honestly, I don’t have the energy for a party. I’m fucking tired. I feel bloated and sore. I don’t want to have a party where I have to put on real pants and eat melted candy bars out of diapers.”

Kitty stills, then slowly looks over at you with a wide-eyed expression of horror. “That’s a thing?”

“It’s a game,” you answer with a roll of your eyes. “You’re supposed to guess which kind of candy it is.”

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Kitty Pryde x Illyana Rasputin.

Rating: G.

Word count: 4.3k.

Set after "S'mores for Two."

Author's Note: Me? Posting more than once a year? Surely not.

In other news, my CFS/other body and brain shit is still overwhelming. It basically took dragging myself through editing to be able to post this latest round of fics (for those of you who don't check out my other works, no worries, but I like to post in little caches so that everything is updated mostly together). I'm not trying to vie for pity; I'm really fucking proud of myself for pushing through and being able to post. I had an unofficial goal of wanting to post more fics before April was over (because April is my birth month), and I did it! I am that bitch!

Thank you all for your patience -and all the comments! They really kept me going when the grind of editing was starting to wear me down.

Happy Reading!

“I guess I’m just not sure what to do.”

Kitty nods as she paints your fingernails a pretty shade of shimmering lilac. “Well, I think it just depends on, like, what you and Piotr want to do, y’know?”

The two of you are on the family room couch; you’ve both taken over the space a bit, actually. It’s a scheduled at home spa day, courtesy of Kitty. There’s dozens of bottles of nail polish lined up on the coffee table, next to two discarded face mask wrappers, a tub of coarse sugar scrub, a sleeve of cotton discs, and an entire store's worth of toners and moisturizers. There’s a half-empty pizza box on one end of the table, several bars of chocolate (and more wrappers), an open jar of pickles (the good, Kosher deli kind, according to Kitty), and a cereal bowl half-filled with peanut butter.

You swipe one end of a pickle spear through your bowl of peanut butter, then crunch down. I mean, I know that’s the point, but… “I think it’s more, like,” you begin once you’ve swallowed, “that I never thought I’d be in this position in life. And that if I ever did get to this stage in life–” you gesture vaguely around you with your munched-on pickle spear “–that I’d automatically know what to do.”

Kitty nods, curly hair bobbing with the motion of her head. “I get you.” She finishes your right hand, then screws the lid back onto the corresponding bottle of polish. “It’s, like, hard to wrap your head around.”

“Yeah. I mean–” You pause to load more peanut butter onto your pickle, which is harder than it sounds. “How are you even supposed to plan baby shower stuff?”

It’s a quandary that’s been gnawing on the back of your mind for months now. The gender reveal party, at least, had been easy. Tasty food, balloon with colored confetti inside, Aiden’s photography team because you and Piotr had wanted pictures, done. It’d been a celebration of having a pregnancy last long enough to see the baby’s gender –and a wonderful day where you and Piotr learned you’d be welcoming a daughter in a few months.

Trying to plan a baby shower, however…

You rub your swollen belly, both fond and exhausted. Your eviction date is coming for you, Masha, whether you like it or not. “I think it just feels weird to me. Like, the gender reveal party was to celebrate the healthy pregnancy lasting so long. We all ate food and enjoyed each other’s company. But I just feel really weird about being, like, ‘I’m growing a human, come give me shit.’”

“Yeah, but everything I’ve read about and seen online is a whole spectacle,” you grumble. You hold your hand out for a square of chocolate, then pop the piece Kitty gives you into your mouth. “And, honestly,” you continue as you tuck the chocolate into your cheek like a hamster, “I don’t have the energy for a party. I’m fucking tired. I feel bloated and sore. I don’t want to have a party where I have to put on real pants and eat melted candy bars out of diapers.”

Kitty stills, then slowly looks over at you with a wide-eyed expression of horror. “That’s a thing?”

“It’s a game,” you answer with a roll of your eyes. “You’re supposed to guess which kind of candy it is.”

She gags, then shakes her head. “Fuck that. That’s just gross.”

“Exactly!”

Kitty eats a few squares of chocolate, expression contemplative. Once she swallows, she says, “I guess I don’t see it as that big of a deal –not having a baby shower and all that. We don’t have baby showers in Jewish circles.”

“Oh.” Your brows lift upwards. “Why not?”

“It’s considered inauspicious,” she explains. “My best friend’s older sister’s parents kept all the baby stuff at their house until she gave birth. Then, they went over to her and husband’s place and set everything up for when she came home.”

“Oh.” You cock your head to one side, considering, then grimace and shrug. “We already have the nursery part way set up, though–”

“I didn’t mean that, like, that should do the same thing,” Kitty interjects. “I meant it, like, whatever you do should serve you and your happiness.” She offers you a reassuring smile. “There is no real rule about what’s normal or not. If a baby shower sounds exhausting, then don’t do it.”

“But people might be expecting for us to have one,” you sigh wearily, “so they can celebrate.”

“Fuck them and their expectations.” Kitty grins when you laugh. “I’m serious! All that matters is what makes you happy.”

“And Piotr,” you tack on once you catch your breath. “And he might want one.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find that out–” Kitty twists towards the front of the house when the front door swings open, then thumps shut. “Hey, speak of the man!”

Piotr pauses his conversation with Illyana as he looks towards you. He glances at you, eyebrows raised, then at Kitty, then back at you again. “Chto?”

“Your wife has a question for you!” Kitty hollers before flashing a dazzling, enraptured grin at Illyana. “Hi, baby!”

Piotr takes off his shoes, then strolls towards you. “You have question, myshka? Is everything okay?”

“Well, first things first.” You cock your head back so you can look up at him. “Will you give me a kiss, even though I’ve been eating peanut butter on pickles?”

He smirks, then bends down and presses his lips against yours.

“Aaw, what a man,” Kitty croons. She cocks her head back when Illyana approaches the couch. “Will you kiss me, even though I’ve been eating pickles without peanut butter?”

Illyana chuckles, then cups Kitty’s chin with her hand and kisses her girlfriend. She looks up when you and Piotr share a grin, then gently tugs on Kitty’s elbow. “Davay.”

“Help yourself to the pizza!” Kitty tosses over her shoulder as Illyana ushers her towards the front of the house (and away from prying eyes).

Piotr kisses the top of your head, then circles around the couch and sits down next to you. The couch creaks beneath him as he helps himself to a slice of cheese pizza, then again when he leans back and settles in. “Ty v poryadke?”

“Da,” you assure him. “I was just talking to Kitty about baby shower stuff.”

Piotr’s brows draw together as he chews a mouthful of pizza. He swallows, then says, “I thought baby showers were not held in Jewish communities.”

“They aren’t. It was more like…” You gesture vaguely with one hand and sigh. “I don’t know if I want to have a baby shower. I’m so tired, and I feel like a boat, and I don’t want to wear pants.”

Piotr lets out a bellowing laugh mid bite, then quickly claps one hand over his mouth. He finishes chewing between giggles, then swallows and sighs. “Oh, moya serdtse. One day, there will be pants that you like.”

“Doubtful.” You smirk, but it quickly gives way to weariness. “I mean… I just don’t know if I have the energy to deal with a baby shower, y’know? But if you want one, I don’t want to take that away from you.”

“What I want–” Piotr sets his partial pizza slice down on a piece of paper towel, then leans over and draws you into his arms. “I want you to be happy and well.” He kisses the crown of your head, then tucks your head beneath his chin. “Masha will be loved and cared for regardless of having baby shower. If you are tired, then you deserve to rest, myshka.”

“Yeah,” you agree as you bury your face in his burly chest, “but if everyone’s expecting us to have one–”

“‘Everyone’ does not get say,” Piotr interrupts gently. “If they wish to help or give gifts, they know where to find us.”

You sigh, then nuzzle against his shirt when he starts stroking your hair. “Maybe we can have, like, a nice dinner or something? With family and close friends? And some help to finish setting up the nursery?”

Piotr gently rubs your back. “That sounds nice.”

“Cool.” You sigh again, far more relaxed this time, then lean over and grab your jar of pickles. “Want a pickle?”

Piotr hums, then nods and plucks a pickle spear out of the jar. “Spasibo.”

“Konechno,” you say before kissing his cheek.

…

“Thanks again for driving me,” you say as you stretch your seatbelt around your swollen belly. “I’ve just been so tired lately that driving isn’t really a good idea.”

“Konechno, ptitsa,” Alex says as she starts the engine on her truck. “How did your appointment go?”

“Good,” you sigh as you stretch and settle into the passenger seat. “Everything’s looking good. Baby’s healthy. Blood sugar looks good. My iron’s still low, though, so I’m taking a higher dose of supplements and I need to be careful about overtiring myself.”

Alex hums and nods as she navigates out of the clinic parking lot. “What can we help with at home?”

“Uh…” Your face and mind go blank. You try, unsuccessfully, to kickstart your brain, then rub your face with your hands when your mind refuses to cooperate. “I think that’d be a difficult question without factoring in pregnancy brain.”

“Fair enough,” Alex chuckles.

“Man, I thought I was spacey before,” you lament. “And then it was bad enough weaning off my meds, but now–” You stop mid-sentence and gape when you see the sign for a McDonalds. “McFlurry.”

Alex laughs again, then changes lanes and drives into the McDonald’s parking lot.

One order for a large fry and an Oreo McFlurry later, the two of you are back on the road and headed for home.

You hum contentedly as you swirl a few fries in your McFlurry. Before you can indulge, though, your addled brain kicks back into gear. “Oh. Did you have a baby shower when you were pregnant with Mikhail?”

“No.” Alex pauses to turn, then explains, “It’s considered back luck in Russian culture. Most expecting parents won’t have one or purchase things for the baby until they are born.”

“Oh.” You blink a few times –the curse under your breath when McFlurry drips off your fries and onto your shirt. You shove your fries and remaining McFlurry “dip” into your mouth, then wipe down your shirt with a tissue (not that it does much good). Once you’re cleaner, and you’ve swallowed, you ask, “Then why was Piotr so ambivalent about whether we have one or not?”

“Because that boy will follow you to the ends of Earth if you asked,” Alex answers with a smirk. “And he’s Americanized a bit since moving here. Plus, we didn’t necessarily raise our kids to be so superstitious. Nikolai and I saw it as more to not ask about someone’s pregnancy unless they wanted to share, rather than luck related. We still prepared a nursery for Mikhail and stocked up on supplies.” She drums her fingers against the steering wheel while you wait behind another car. “To be honest, even if parties were part of our culture, I wasn’t in any shape for one.” She chuckles ruefully beneath her breath. “I was a wreck during that pregnancy.”

“Honestly, I feel the same way,” you admit with a heavy sigh. “I’m so tired, and sore, and I don’t want to wear pants.” You smile when Alex laughs, then continue with your griping. “Plus, all of the shit I’ve seen for baby showers just… doesn’t appeal? I don’t have the energy to decorate, and apparently there’s games you can play? But it’s weird stuff like melting candy bars in diapers, then having everyone try and guess what kind of candy it is–”

Alex grimaces. “That sounds disgusting.”

“Yeah. Plus, if I’m getting candy, I just want to eat the candy.”

“Understandable and wise.”

“We talked about having family and friends over for dinner,” you continue after grinning, “and to have some help around the house and finishing the nursery… but, like, how do you ask people ‘hey, come bring some food and hang out and help us with the nursery and house stuff because we’re expecting a baby?’”

Alex smirks and shoots you a sidelong glance. “That seemed pretty coherent to me.”

“That’s not what I–” You stick your tongue out at her when she laughs. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” she assures you. She brakes for a red light, then looks over and puts one hand on your shoulder. “Just ask, ptitsa. Ask, and we’ll be there.”

You smile, and place your hand over hers. “Thanks, Alex.”

…

“I was thinking of actually printing invitations? I don’t know why, I just think it’d be funny.” You spit toothpaste foam into the sink, then resume brushing your teeth. “We could print an extra one to keep. It’d be, like, a cute memory thing.”

Piotr smiles at you in the bathroom mirror, amused. “We could. What would these hypothetical invitations say?”

“I dunno.” You rinse your mouth and toothbrush, then stick your toothbrush in the little holder you keep on the sink. “‘We’re having a baby; come eat food about it.’ Whatever works, honestly.” When he chuckles, you turn to face him. “Do you have a better idea?”

Piotr laughs, shakes his head, then bends and kisses the top of your head. “I trust your creative vision, myshka.”

“Damn straight.” You smirk, self-satisfied, then turn back to the sink and resume your bedtime routine. Floss, fluoride, wash face… what kind of food are you supposed to serve at a baby shower? “What kind of food would we have?”

“Uh…” Piotr clears his throat. “I am not sure,” he calls from the bedroom. “Perhaps we should discuss in morning. Take night to sleep on ideas.”

Your reflection scrunches its face as you floss. “I don’t think it’s that serious. It’s just, like, a potluck dinner. Almost anything would work.”

There’s a pause, and then your husband’s heavy footsteps approach the bathroom. He leans around the doorway and meets your gaze in the mirror, lips pursed. “Da. However…” He tucks his tongue inside his cheek and looks away. “Your nighttime cravings are… ravenous. And unpredictable.”

“I am not that bad!” You blow a raspberry at him over your shoulder, then toss your used flosser in the trash. “Fine. We’ll talk about food in the morning.” You reach for the bottle of fluoride –then gasp and scamper to the bathroom door. “We should have pancakes for breakfast!”

Piotr laughs and nods as he turns down the bed. “Pancakes for breakfast, very good.”

“With blueberries!”

“With blueberries.”

Pleased, you smile, then head back to the sink. Once you’re done with your routine, you head to bed and heft yourself onto the mattress.

Piotr, the saint he is, helps arrange pillows behind you to support your back. He leans over to watch as you scroll through YouTube. “Ah, nighttime listenings.” He holds out one hand. “Would you like me to find Among Us gameplay for you?”

“I can do it,” you insist, frowning. “I’m pregnant, not missing my hands.”

“Nyet, nyet,” he agrees. “But–”

“‘History of Americana Diner Food.’” You gasp when you see a thumbnail displaying burgers, fries, and a milkshake. Your stomach growls, and you groan. “Oh, burgers sound so good.”

Piotr bites the inside of his lower lip when you gaze up at him pleadingly. He hesitates, then sighs and relents with a soft laugh. “Davay, myshka. Let’s get you burger.”

You coo happily, then leverage yourself out of bed. “Just for that, I’ll share my fries with you.”

…

“I meant to ask you something earlier.”

Piotr glances over as you rummage through your take-out bag, then turns his attention back to the road. “Chto?”

“Why –that smells so fucking good.” You stop to cram a few fries in your mouth, then continue once you’ve swallowed. “Why aren’t you bothered by baby shower stuff?”

There’s a long silence. Then, with quiet bewilderment, Piotr says, “I think I am not understanding your meaning.”

“I mean… Your mom said that baby showers are inauspicious in Russia. But, when I asked you if we had to do one, you seemed ambivalent about it all.”

“I do not believe much in luck,” Piotr says after a moment, shrugging. “Some things are beyond control, da, but choices are what impact outcomes. Not unseen forces.” He pauses to change lanes, then adds, “And I want to be sensitive to you. You had bad upbringing. If there was something you wanted in preparation for our baby, for healing, then I want to make sure that happens.”

“Not everything comes down to my shitty childhood,” you press. “I’m not the only person in this relationship, and this isn’t just my baby we’re expecting.” You wolf down a few more fries. “I don’t want you to set aside what you’re comfortable with just because I had fuckheads for parents. This is all supposed to be about compromise.”

“I am not making myself uncomfortable, dorogoy,” Piotr assures you, tone gentle. He takes one hand off the wheel and takes hold of yours. “I think baby showers as tradition –as mandatory–is foolish. But if you want one to celebrate our baby, that would make me very happy. And if you just want to rest, that makes me happy, also. Khorosho?”

“Alright.” You squeeze his hand lovingly, then reach into your bag and retrieve a few fries. “Open up.”

Piotr chuckles, then opens his mouth and lets you feed him fries. “Spasibo.”

…

The two of you settle on printing one commemorative flier, just for the two of you, then email your prospective guests. The promise is for a breakfast-style buffet of sorts; the two of you will provide the blinis, kasha, and some beef bacon (so Kitty can partake), and everyone else has been asked to bring their favorite breakfast dish.

You bust out laughing when Wade –with Nate and Russell in tow–shows up with a trunk full of Poptarts. “You would!”

“We are not keeping all of those,” Piotr mutters as he eyes the wall of blue boxes uneasily.

“Says you,” you tease. “I’m eating for two! These should last us… oh, about a week.”

Ellie and Yukio supply doughnuts and muffins, Neena comes with a box of freshly made breakfast burritos, and Alex, Nikolai, and Mikhail bring a veritable feast of traditional toppings for the blinis and set up to make fresh latkes.

Kitty and Illyana arrive last.

You blink rapidly when you see the numerous bags and containers carried between the two young women. “You didn’t have to–”

“You’re the one who said to bring breakfast foods!” Kitty interrupts with a cheery grin.

You eye the gallon plastic bowl in her hands with mild suspicion. “What kind of breakfast is that?”

“Okay, this–” she gestures with the bowl as she bustles into the kitchen “–isn’t breakfast, but my mom heard that you’re pregnant, and she wanted to send along some food to help you guys out. This–” she lifts the bowl again “–is cholent, and ‘Yana’s got some roast chicken and challah from mom, for you guys, too. Do you have room in your fridge? Anyway,” she continues as Piotr starts rearranging the fridge contents to make room for everything, “we brought good bagels and toppings for them, because you can’t have breakfast without bagels.” She turns, finally catches sight of all the food in the kitchen, and her jaw drops. “Oh shit.”

“If you leave hungry, is own fault,” Nikolai announces while grating potatoes.

“Hey, that’s my kind of party!” Kitty says with a laugh. “Let me get my skillet and shit set up, and then I’ll start helping you, Nick. Where should I drop everything?”

“We have counter space for you over there,” Piotr says, pointing towards the back of the kitchen. “And vegan pancake mix.”

“There’s dairy free breakfast burritos for you in the paper bag!” Neena calls out. “And the guy doesn’t use pork for any of his recipes.”

“And the pork gelatin free toaster pastries!” Russell adds.

“The doughnuts back there are parve, too,” Ellie pipes up.

Kitty beams. “Thank you so much. You guys are awesome!”

You smile, and pause for a moment to take it all in.

It’s been an inexorably long journey. As far as you’ve come from your past, there are times where you still can’t believe you’ve made it here –somewhere good, and healthy, and safe. It almost feels like a dream. Or a magical trance. Or like you’re watching a movie, and you’re waiting for the credits to start rolling and for the house lights to turn on.

But it’s real. You’re in a beautiful home, with a wonderful husband, surrounded by people who love, respect, and care about you and each other. And you have a baby on the way, on top of it all.

“Myshka?” Piotr places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I’m okay,” you assure him quietly as you wipe tears away from your eyes. “Just very happy.”

Piotr smiles softly, then bends down and kisses your forehead. “I love you very much, moya serdtse.”

“I love you, too.” You tug him down by the collar until you can kiss his cheek, then pat his chest when he straightens back up. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”

“Uh, only if you’re sitting down.” Kitty blocks you when you try to enter the kitchen. “Pretty sure you’re supposed to be resting? Doctor’s orders and all that?”

You purse your lips. “You guys are guests–”

“And we’re here to help.” Neena gently takes you by the shoulders and ushers you towards the couch. “So, let us help.”

“Resting is good, myshka,” Piotr starts when you protest.

“Aren’t we here to help both of you?” Ellie pipes up, voice flat but eyes glinting with unmistakable mischief.

“Yeah, but who’s gonna muscle Colossus out of the kitchen?” Russell stage whispers in reply.

All heads turn towards Alex.

Piotr’s confident expression quickly slips away as his mother looks him dead in the eye. “Mama…”

“Are you going to sit?” she asks in Russian.

“Bozhe ty moi –I am not pregnant,” Piotr insists. “I can help.”

Alex sighs, then rounds the kitchen island. “Alright.”

“Nyet, nyet, I am not, mama don’t –blyat!”

You laugh along with everyone else when Alex scoops Piotr up bridal-style.

She carries him over to the couch, then sets him down with surprising gentleness. “Be good,” she admonishes lovingly in Russian. She kisses Piotr’s forehead, then glances meaningfully at you. “Rub your wife’s shoulders.”

Piotr chuckles, somewhat exasperated, and rolls his eyes as his mother strides back to the kitchen. “I am grown man, you know.”

“Da,” Alex agrees without turning back. “You are heavy like one.”

You giggle when Piotr rolls his eyes again, then reach over and grab his hand. You fix him with your prettiest, most pleading eyes when he looks at you. “You don’t want to sit with me?”

“I always want to sit with you,” Piotr assures you, relenting immediately. He moves closer to you, then puts one arm around your shoulders. “Would you like me to rub your back?”

“Oh, always.” You lean against your husband, then relax as he starts rubbing your sore back with his thumbs. You groan, eyes sliding shut, and bask –in him, in the warmth of your home, in the happy chatter and delicious aromas wafting from the kitchen.

Your life certainly feels full of magic.

...

Epilogue:

“Insert Leg A into Slot G–”

“That doesn’t fucking tell me which shitbag it is!” Wade snaps. He snatches the instructions out of your hands, scans the page, then growls and hurls the paper against the floor. “You’re a goddamn rocking chair! No one fucking asked you to run the elementary school accelerated program!”

“Definitely comes with the same baggage,” Neena mutters.

Wade looks over his shoulder at her, then back at you. “Remind me why she’s being the peanut gallery again, instead of using her internal magic eight ball to help us?”

Neena rolls her eyes. “For the last time, that’s not how my powers work.”

“Not to mention they’re probably already maxed to keep you from throwing the materials through the window,” you mumble under your breath.

Things would’ve been simpler if you’d just purchased a pre-assembled rocking chair. Unfortunately, not many of them come rated from someone of Piotr’s size (or the wear and tear you’re both certain that your baby –and, eventually, kids–will put the seat through).

“I keep telling you guys, you’re going about this all wrong!” Kitty calls as she carries the vacuum cleaner down the hall.

“Yes, do enlighten us, Ms. ‘Quantumania Axed the Best Character,’” Wade grumbles.

Kitty stares at him for a long moment, face scrunched up in conclusion. “...Right.”

“KURT WAS A GEM, AND WE ALL KNOW IT!”

“Look, you guys just need to let Alex and Ellie do this,” Kitty presses on as she gestures to the mess of wooden slats and rocking chair pieces on the ground. “It’s butch magic. They’ll sort it out in, like, ten minutes.”

“I already told you, Katherine,” Ellie hollers from down the stairs, “I can’t assemble a fucking chair!”

“Fine, Ellen!” Kitty shouts back. “Then just let Alex do it! Honestly, you have a hyper-competent badass in the house, and you don’t stick her on IKEA assembly? The fuck is wrong with you all!”

“Let’s keep things moving, please.” Alex’s voice and footsteps echo up the stairwell. “And reasonably calm,” she adds with a knowing look at Kitty. There’s a pause until Kitty nods and heads off, and then Alex appears in the nursery doorway. “What am I doing now?”

“How good are you at assembling rocking chairs?” Neena asks.

Alex chuckles, then plucks the instructions off the floor. “I’ll give it a go.”

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #kitty pryde x illyana rasputin #the aforementioned gender reveal fic will be coming soon #but this is what i had so they're gonna be out of order #x men fanfiction #deadpool fanfiction #colossus hyperfixation collection #i wrote a lot of this when i was hungry can you tell #the reference to quantumania at the end is for my bff ily mady

66 notes · View notes

reds-writings · 6 months

Note

Ooo any grump/sunshine day to day with old man Rust!!! Maybe fluff prompt pt.2 #3 or #6!

You’re writings for Rust are incredible please never stop! <3

i mostly combined 3 and 6 with this ask and went with something kinda new?? this features a nurse!reader with a bit of an age gap taking place but nothing crazy. i love the sunshine/grumpy trope so i hope you enjoy!! (also I'm trying out using a placeholder nickname for the reader so i don't have to use y/n as much so pls let me know if y'all enjoy that at all)

When Marty first sprung the idea of a temporary at-home caretaker on Rust the man had half the mind to think the blonde was just being a tremendous chain-yanking shit. But his friend was dead serious and it was less of a ‘think on it’ idea and more of a ‘I got Maggie to pull some strings and a nurse will be coming in next week’ idea. No matter how much Rust reared and protested Marty insisted that he have someone to keep an eye on him since Marty couldn’t be his personal maid for much longer given that it had already been a couple of weeks since their hospital visit courtesy of that fucker Childress.

Rust didn’t want a damned nurse. He wasn’t some pathetic geriatric fuck in desperate need of some lousy assistance. Sure, anytime he moved too much or stood for too long he felt like he’d pass out from the pain of the wound that nearly took up his whole abdomen but that didn’t mean jack shit. Marty brushed off any complaints without so much a blink and kept reassuring that it’d do the grump some good to have company other than himself or the neverending onslaught of his usual doomsday-esque thoughts. The day you showed up at Marty’s door bright and early on a Monday morning with a smile too genuine for Rust to fully comprehend, you were not at all what he was expecting.

Not that he really had any expectations to begin with. Maybe that you’d be older. More seasoned. Not nearly 10 years or so his junior. Certainly not possessing such a radiantly pleasant disposition that no one else seemed to harbor anywhere around these parts. He wasn’t above immediately clocking the beauty you exuded but eyeing younger women was more of Marty’s MO than his own.

You seemed untouched by the vast ugliness of what the world fostered. There weren’t many moments where you didn’t have a look of general felicity painted on the soft planes of your face. It was a habit of yours to wear brightly patterned or colored scrubs that he, at first, deemed a semi-loathsome eyesore (which then eventually grew on him). An array of silly patches and pins allowed on your work bag full of the necessities you slung along for the day’s endeavors with him. Kitschy socks you kept as a hidden surprise within the confines of your clogs that you’d show to him even if he never gave the inclination that he cared about something so trivial. Your unmoving cheeriness translated to a certain form of naivety that had something ugly burning beneath the prison of his ribs. At first, he thought he just felt this brand of annoyance towards a preconceived notion of cluelessness you carried but over time it found itself melting away into a subconscious need to shelter you from the horrors of earth.

It took plenty of time to chip away at that impossible exterior of his but with your incessant refusal to let his initial gruffness and straight-up disregard of your presence deter you he had no choice but to give in to your efforts of friendly engagement.

Given that there wasn’t much to do for him care-wise besides keep his wounds clean, change bandages, make sure he didn’t collapse, and keep up with any meds he was prescribed post-hospital stay you took on the role of making the passing days a little more interesting than they’d usually be if he were by his lonesome. You’d find little non-exertive exercises to do in the afternoon to keep his muscles from getting too weak. Drag him along to the grocery store to shop so that you could try out some new recipes you saved online. You were steadfast in making g sure he wasn’t just surviving off the cigarettes and beer he’d stubbornly sneak behind your back. You also made it a goal to keep up with trimming that bristly mustache of his and making sure his hair didn't get too unruly. You’ve gone as far as to bug him about letting you practice your braiding skills so that you could fulfill your niece’s creative hairstyle wishes but no dice. One day you’d wear him down enough into agreeance. That was becoming easier, though, wearing him down for just about anything. One look at those doe-ish eyes and the battle he was prepared to fight had already been lost. Rust had a feeling you were more clever than anyone probably gave you credit for but there was no use in acknowledging that your stare was having an increasingly strengthened hold on him.

To say Marty was absolutely tickled by the noticeable change in his friend’s demeanor throughout this new development was an understatement. It was about time there was something Rust somewhat enjoyed besides stewing over the point of humanity’s existence or yapping on about unsavory ideas involving shit like damnation. It didn’t take long for your attitude and delightful qualities to earn you the nickname Sunny. Marty deemed it exceedingly fitting and even Rust found himself playing into it much to everyone’s surprise. Hearing it from him had a splendid giddiness sparking throughout your system more than you’d like to admit.

Today you’d driven him out near the water where you both could sit and read for a while. You always stressed the importance of fresh air doing him some good and he never complained. If it meant getting him out of Marty’s bachelor pad here and there he’d let you drag him anywhere as far as Timbuktu. As chatty as you could be, you stayed mindful of any moment of solitude he may require during these daily visits. Sometimes it was nice to just exist and absorb the ambiance the outside world had to offer in each other’s presence and for that he was grateful.

“You’re starting to walk better on your own, Rusty.” You broke the bubble of serenity, looking up from your book –some light read of a romance– to fix him with a small smile that quirked the corner of your lips. The sun’s fading light drenched your figure in the hues of impending dusk and some nagging part of him found it to be an effortlessly alluring sight despite its simplicity. You’d have to be calling it a night soon but what was a few more stolen moments in each other's company?

“Yeah, s’gettin’ a bit easier I suppose. Soon enough I’ll be back to mostly functional as opposed to some lame cripple.” He replied in dry amusement, dog-earing the page he was on to bring his full attention to you. Marty often gave him flack for his outgrown hippie look but it added some sort of rugged appeal in your opinion. Not that you’d ever find the courage to forgo any sense of professionalism by making your whims involving Rust Cohle known. But as he looked at you now with weathered blue you couldn’t help but give in to the ideas of something beyond this current format of companionship.

“Cripple is a bit of an exaggeration. You’ll be up and at em’ before you know it. Though it sucks I won’t be of much use no more.” There was a twinge of sadness in your voice and he hated the frailty of it.

“Ah…don’t worry, Sunny. There’ll be some other helpless old soul who’ll need you around.”

“That’d imply you’re just some helpless old fart in the throng of said souls. Which you’re not. Plus, none have ever entertained me as you do.” You chirped in that playful matter-of-fact way you often do.

“Entertainin’. Hm. That’s new.” He shook his head before looking out toward the water.

“Even if your physical health will no longer be of issue I’ll make it my new mission to spruce up that self-deprecating brain of yours. Not that I’m necessarily trained within the realm of mental health but I can youtube it or something. I have my ways.” You wiggled your fingers in jest as if casting a spell. In truth, it was as if you already had when you came around all those weeks ago.

“Can’t get rid of you that easily I’m guessin’.” He shot back in a lousy attempt at a joke. Whether you could read his poorly hidden desire to keep you around or not, he couldn’t tell.

“You know by now I’m like a leech. A cute, fun leech! It’ll take a lot to get rid of me for good,” You paused with a bout of slight insecurity, “unless you don’t want me around to bother you longer. I know I can be a bit much sometimes-”

“You can stick around, Sunny. Can’t have Marty as my only friend. That’d be plain sad.” He was playing it off cool, unaware of the barrage of butterflies he had set off in your chest with that simple statement.

“I might have to alert the masses now that you consider me a friend. This is by no means a small feat– wait does this mean I can practice my braiding finally?! My niece is getting antsy and I-”

“Don’t push your luck.” He had to look away from the blinding beam of your cheek-splitting smile as he moved to stand up. Without fail, you rushed to his side to place your dainty hand into his so that you could help. The small action sent lightning down the length of his spine. The warmth of your joking jabs about your newfound title of friendship encased his whole being. He couldn’t help but think back on the conversation he’d had with Marty outside of the hospital, about light versus dark. Perhaps you manifesting into his orbit was another indicator that the light just might actually be winning.

#reds-writings #rust cohle #true detective #true detective season 1 #rust cohle x reader #anon ask #writer blog #true detective imagine #rust cohle imagine

64 notes · View notes

kpforpresident · 1 year

Text

Good Vibrations AU

Lexa is staring particularly hard at the one penis-shaped water stain in the damp ceiling, trying her absolute hardest not to eavesdrop on the couple that was standing a stone’s throw away, arguing hotly next to a hot pink, two-foot-long dildo that Lexa would hazard a guess at being at least as large around as her forearm. The girl, a tiny petite thing with platinum blonde hair fiddles with a bullet toy on the nearby display while the boy, a walking embodiment of a mountain dew and Cheetos gamer, gestures emphatically at the monstrous toy that dangles by the girl’s shoulder. Lexa can practically feel the toy staring at her with its bulbous head, the massive silicone ball silhouette gleaming softly in the dull fluorescent lighting.

“Babe, I’m just saying, I think it would fit…”

Lexa bites back a shudder as she fastidiously scrubs away an invisible speck away from the display case that houses a frankly staggering array of lubes, both flavored and plain.

One more year and I will have enough to pay outright for my master’s degree loans, and I never have to step foot in here again, Lexa finds herself thinking with the fervent hope of a thousand suns as she stares unseeing at a strawberry lube bottle that boasts an eye-wateringly bright green label that promises a “Sweet, Slippery Good Time!”

“You have no issue with my dick, this isn’t that much bigger-”

Lexa, fighting every demon known not to let out a cackle at the exasperated look on the blonde girl’s face, ducks her head to chew on her lip before moving from the safety of behind her glass and metal counter. Walking purposefully by the duo, she innocently straightens a lacy thigh-high garter that sits proudly in the slightly-frosted windows, just opaque enough to squeak by the city’s stringent guidelines but transparent enough to barely hint at what lay behind the metallic doors of Good Vibrations, Polis’s self-proclaimed best and largest sex shop.

Kane, the town’s local eccentric but entirely affable billionaire had opened the shop three years ago must to the abject horror of the local evangelical group, led by the most fervent of the bunch, Charles Pike.

Kane staunchly maintained that the shop existed to promote sex positivity and awareness in a world increasingly fraught with misinformation or staggering layers of prudish beliefs on the topic of sex education. Seething with barely contained hostility, Pike and his acolytes were ordered to cease their weekly prayer circles outside of the front door as Kane managed to find the largest, glittery, rainbow flag with a bedazzled uterus on it and set it flying proudly outside of their front door.

Much to everyone and no one’s surprise, Good Vibrations does a rip-roaring trade in sex toys and accessories, with customers ordering online from around the world, business pouring in after young and scrappy student journalist Lexa Woods wrote a piece about the story of the local business for a university writing course. She, of course, had expected it to go no further than the boundaries of the sleep little town of Polis, assuming that many students would read the piece and make a note of the store as a place to stagger into when their sweet new girlfriend texted them that yes, they did really want to use the fluffy pink handcuffs, or no, of course, the vibrator wasn’t necessary and her boyfriend always made her O but the girl just figured it would be fun to try the Satisfyer Pro 2. You know, for science.

Kane had laughed uproariously and framed it when the New York Times picked it up as an opinion lifestyle piece, hanging it just inside the front door with pride. He then offered young Lexa a job. Desperate to fund her dreams of global journalism and international affairs studies, she seizes the chance to work a flexible job with good pay and weekends off.

Hence why she was currently furiously chewing her cheek again the onslaught of laughter bubbling up in her throat as Gamer Boy makes a show of jiggling the pink monstrosity of a toy near his own nether regions, minutely hip thrusting in the girl’s direction.

The girl rolls her eyes as she wanders away to examine some kinky position dice, leaving Lexa to contemplate the vast and confusing world of heterosexual encounters.

Her rumination on this topic is cut abruptly short by the cheery little chime of the shop’s front door, a high-pitched noise that automatically has Lexa pivoting away from the couple that is now arguing by a pair of furry, neon green garters, and towards the entrance.

Only to be completely way-laid out by a wide-eyed blonde barreling towards her at high speed, brandishing something oblong and bright purple in her right fist. Completely nonplussed at this strange girl who was clearly on a mission, Lexa cocks her head and squints at the object in her fist, cursing the fact she forgot her glasses today.

At least it’s not a weapon, Lexa finds herself thinking as bright blue eyes, sparking with indignation, are moving closer by the second. Hang on, is that—?

Skidding on the recently mopped hardwood in front of Lexa, courtesy of a curious frat boy and an exploded bottle of body glitter, Lexa has approximately 4 seconds to react as the girl slips, cartoon-like, feet flying out from underneath her as she fails to find traction on the glistening floor.

Lexa, acting on autopilot, thrusts a hand forward to try and catch a flailing limb–

Thud.

The girl hits the ground so hard the glass dildos rattle menacingly in their cases, Lexa’s teeth along with them. The girl peers up at Lexa dazedly, gaze sharpening and seeming to run the full gamut of human emotion before settling into horror. Both sets of eyes were now fixed on Lexa’s right hand, grasping the only thing she managed to find purchase as the blonde fell.

A purple vibe fits snugly into her right hand, lights flashing at random as the toy gives a feeble bzzt of protest, seemingly in response to being manhandled in their owner’s fight with gravity.

A strangled “What the fuck?” roughly 4 octaves higher than normal is all a startled Lexa can get out in response, a very gay part of her brain flashing loud rainbow lights as if to alert her that by some strange twist of fate, she has ended up being personally given this very pretty girl’s personal sex toy. Said toy vibrates feebly twice more before going dark and silent, as if satisfied that its death toll was in Lexa’s confused hand.

The blond’s head hits the ground for a second time as she rolls her eyes back to face the ceiling, seemingly resigned to her fate. Then, as if animated by the gay sex gods, she pops up again to snatch the toy out of Lexa’s hand.

“You-” Lexa can barely lean back in time as the purple toy sails within millimeters of her nose- “owe me an orgasm, Woods.”

#good vibrations au #clexa #clexa crack #i hope y'all like this one #thank you to casco times one million for the moodboard

204 notes · View notes

goodluckclove · 13 days

Text

While I agree the Internet Archive was breaking copyright and the recent findings were warranted, I also am confused by the amount of people who think this is a new low and not something they've been doing consistently since their conception in 1996. It just seems like now they took the step of wronging a company litigious enough to do something about it.

Like there is a grey area on whether or not the Wayback Machine is infringing on copyright (it is in Europe), but there's a TON of movies preserved there that technically shouldn't be. Old ones, yeah, but newer ones too still well within the rights of being scrubbed. Most seem to think that's fine.

But there are libraries! This hurts libraries! I mean I agree to a point. I support libraries and the work they do and I hate the sort of downwards spiral that field of service is going down. I don't think IA is fully in the right and I do think they made a mistake here stealing works from modern, more individual artists as opposed to teams and studios - which is something people seem to care less about for some reason.

At the same time, I also know you need an ID and proof of residence to get a library card in both states I've lived in. You also need an adult if you're a young enough minor. You also need to be able to GET to a library on a consistent basis.

I also know a lot of kids who have their access to physical books way more monitored than what they might be able to find online. My surrogate kid told me they were afraid to read the queer book they got from the library outside of their room because their parents might ask questions about the rainbow on the cover.

I also also know access to many books varies greatly outside of different countries. Some places don't have easy access to Amazon or used book stores or libraries, so if they want to read like the type of classic lit work that I can find easily for like a few bucks, they might be out of luck.

Once again, I don't think they should've won this case. They fucked up, I see that. But this isn't really a big win for writers in my eyes when, from my experience, it doesn't really keep someone from buying a book or getting it at the library. I offer a free e-book of my first book to anyone who wants it, and some people choose to buy it or request it at the library because they want a physical copy. It doesn't seem like a lot of people's first choice for literature is a website PDF of dubious quality. It just kind of seems like there are times where that's the most accessible.

#On writing #Internet archive #Clove rants #Hot takes I guess

20 notes · View notes

nelyastudies · 3 months

Text

22-23.06.2024 / public health rotation

academic

went to the volunteering project meeting that could have been an email (1h)

another volunteering project meeting and photo session (1.5h)

preparing my volunteering public health program presentation (1h)

🎧 - starboy, the weeknd 💧 - 1L/2L 📖 - hangsaman, shirley jackson

others

went to the psychiatrist and got switched to a combo of four drugs :/

i'm going to be a bridesmaid! my friends about to get married in august and just delivered a box of purple satin for the gown. she looks so happy!

went with my buddy to get birthday present for another friend

wash dishes, do laundry

watch a playlist for the psychiatric basis of trauma healing

talked to my online buddy for the first time. we yapped for like 2 hours. i was nervous and i'm talking in baby english suddenly

prepared the Costume for the birthday party. they said the theme would be high school, so i took out my old high school uniform. feel a bit silly, but i though since we have always wear matching outfits and accesories everyday (forest-green scrubs and the cheapest littman, notepads bought in the same store and stolen pens, probably one of the nurses's), then why not do it again for fun?

went to the birthday party and played a lot of games like children. i won the hot chair game! and got myself free iced milk (pink!!!!)

#studyblr #studyspo #studygram #medblr #medical student #nelyawrites #indostudyblr

20 notes · View notes

wardenparker · 2 years

Text

Redbox Romance

Javi Gutierrez x plus size female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 11.9k Warnings: Food/alcohol consumption, cursing, some splashes of self-consciousness. Javi is an amazing kisser (no I do not take criticism), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), hair pulling, vaginal sex, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it), blink-and-you’ll-miss-it begging/praise. Summary: Bumping into a hot guy in line to rent a Redbox movie after work has never sounded like a better idea than when that guy is Javi G. Notes: Happy Spooktober everyone! We simply couldn’t do this big round of spooky season stories without including a movie night with Javi 🎃🧡🎬

Since he has had his entire world crumble, his perfectly controlled world shifted - Javi has realized how few friends he actually has. There is Nick of course, but he cannot call Nick over to watch a horror movie marathon. Not when he is trying to repair the damage he had done to his relationship with his ex-wife and daughter. Javi was sure that soon that they would reconcile, and Nick would be happier - something that his friend would be very proud of. The concept of going to the store is daunting but Javi has fallen in love with the Redbox location down the road from him at the local grocery store. He wants to buy junk food. All the things that are so bad for him, yet so delicious. Maybe even making cute treats - but his cooking skills are lacking - and watch movie after movie that are designed to scare and thrill him. Sighing, he grabs his keys and decides that he will do it alone, like most things he does now.

******

The line at this particular Redbox machine is always long. It’s in the front lobby of the grocery store right next to your work, though, and it has the best selection of horror movies of any machine in the city, so you wait. There’s only four people ahead of you so you tell yourself it won’t be that bad - fiddling in the pockets of your scrubs to pull out any scraps of paper from the day and toss them into the nearby trash can. Everybody else always has plans of Friday night, but you’re spending it curled up with some horror movies, and the frozen pizza and pint of ice cream that you’re going to pick out once you get inside the store. Maybe even some candy to sprinkle on your ice cream, because the patients you dealt with today sucked.

Three people ahead of him. Javi shuffles his feet slightly and looks around, wishing that he had someone to talk to, to share with. Gabriella hadn’t worked out— it wasn’t her fault. They just found they weren’t compatible like they had imagined. He’d tried dating but half the women he had talked to had flat out disbelieved his tale of how he ended up in the States. He sighs slightly and hums to himself, wondering if he could find a friends group online to be social with.

It was trying to sneak a peek of what the people in front of you were renting that did you in - losing your balance slightly from carrying your heavy tote bag in your shoulder and having the bag slip off and smack the man in front of you directly in the ass. Only to be startled by it and drop your bag, spilling things everywhere. If it were possible to actually melt like the Wicked Witch, you would be doing it right now – right now as you scramble to pick up your belongings, including the two large books that were making it so heavy in the first place. “Oh god, I’m so sorry!” You groan, hoping he isn’t too angry by the accidental accosting he’s just gotten. “I’m just…I’m clumsy. I’m really sorry.”

Javi turns in surprise, watching the purse spill – the only glance of the woman who is dropping down to her knees is fleeting but he thinks she might be lovely. Immediately, he bends down to help. “It’s okay.” He promises, hearing the mortification and distress in her voice. “I too am clumsy.” He chuckles, reaching for a pouch and scattered pens and assorted junk women always seem to carry.

“I didn’t mean t—” You look up, realizing that the man has bent down to help you, and completely deflate. He’s fucking gorgeous, because of course he is. This is LA. Sometimes you feel like the only token big girl in the entire city. It’s just models and actors and ridiculously attractive musicians as far as the eye can see. He’s probably famous, you think with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry. My bag slipped off my shoulder.”

He gives you a smile and nods. “It happens.” He looks down at the books in your hand. “Especially with such things.” He hands you the items he had collected and his hand cups your elbow as both of you start to straighten up. “Are you a student or do you carry books around always?”

“It’s research.” The explanation is immediate, but you cringe at yourself as soon as it comes out of your mouth. Just another pathetic Hollywood wannabe with a day job. That’s what your boss had said. “So, uh…I guess I always carry books.” You sweep the copy of Harold Schechter’s Hell’s Princess and the thick notebook back into your bag quickly.

“Research?” He looks back at the line as it shuffles forward and moves up before he turns back to you. “That I understand. I research a lot of things myself.”

“You do?” Unsure why he’s even still talking to you, you straighten up again and hoist your bag back into your shoulder, trying to smooth out your wrinkled scrubs and look presentable. He’s really…fuck he’s incredibly good looking. Tall and tan with wavy hair and big brown eyes and pouty lips that you just— don’t stare, don’t stare…

“Yes!” His eyes light up happily and he glances around. “I can only learn so much through movies and everything is different. I have to research everything.”

“What are you…researching? Or watching?” It’s like someone flipped a switch in him and turned him into a human puppy, excited to share and play and talk with whoever is around. And you’re more than happy to listen.

“I want to write a horror movie.” Javi confesses, knowing that most would find him ridiculous - even with the success of his collaboration with Nick. “I want to write the perfect thriller or slasher.”

“I’m writing a horror movie!” It’s probably a very weird thing to hear exclaimed in a supermarket anywhere but LA, but right now you’re enjoying the coincidence too much to care.

Javi’s eyes widen happily and he grins. “Really? What is it about? Tell me what your inspiration is.” It’s amazing to run into someone else that is writing even though it’s common in L.A.

“Have you ever heard of Belle Gunness?” Pulling Hell’s Princess from your bag again, you hold it out for him to flip through if he wants to. It’s probably unlikely that this sweet, incredibly handsome man is into true crime, but he asked, so you’re going to share. “She was a serial killer in Indiana the 19th century who lured countless men to her farm and murdered them. They say that the farmhouse was haunted for decades before she got there but I think her crimes started far before she arrived.” It’s not something most people would get excited about. You know that. But you have never been able to resist the oddities of history. “The crazy thing is that she was never caught, so we’ll never really know exactly how all these men and her children died. It’s just an absolutely fascinating character study.”

“Wow.” His eyes are dramatically wide as he takes the book and he starts thumbing through it. “That would be an interesting movie.” He is into it. “There are so few where a woman is the antagonist.”

“Gruesome, I know.” You laugh nervously, realizing that it isn’t exactly standard conversation for a complete stranger. “But like you said, there are so few female antagonists and her story is just that much more unbelievable because it’s true.”

“That would be awesome. Would you frame it as a haunting? Or someone continuing the killing spree?” He asks, curious about how you would tell the story. He's desperate to continue the conversation, and it's not just because you are interested in horror movies and are writing. You're pretty. He noticed that from the moment you looked up into his eyes, it captured him and he can't help but admire the soft features of your face and body.

“I almost feel like the haunting was sort of…fuel on the fire, if that makes sense. Negative influence powering someone who already had malicious intent. But I’m not sure how to frame that without it coming across as hokey, so I’m sort of blocked at the moment.” Shaking your head a little, you offer the incredibly handsome man a small smile and shrug before introducing yourself. “I probably should have started there. First name before favourite serial killer seems like better manners.”

Javi smiles, repeating your name and rolling his tongue over it. It's beautiful and fitting for such a charming woman. He takes your hand and gives you a small bow over your clasped hands. Maybe a little ostentatious for the line at a Redbox kiosk, but he likes the way your eyes flutter. "I am Javi." He introduces him. "Javi Gutierrez."

“It’s very nice to meet you.” The name rings a bell but you can’t quite place it, making you even more certain that you just stumbled onto some minor celebrity at the grocery store and are just too out of the loop to realize it. “So…what is your script about? Do you have ideas?”

"I have toyed with many ideas, but stick to none." He shakes his head at himself ruefully. "It is why I wish to rent some favorites. Acquire inspiration."

“Some of your favourites are here?” Motioning to the Redbox behind him alerts both of you to move up in line - Javi is now next up to the box.

He nods. “I have misplaced my copy of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari when I moved, and this box is said to have one.” It was why he had chosen this Redbox to go to tonight.

“That—” You tilt your head at him and smile at the coincidence, thinking how horribly disappointed you would have been to realize that the man in front of you had just rented the only copy of the movie you explicitly came to rent. “That’s why I’m here, too.”

"Oh." He knows there is only one copy of the movie, the box said that there was only one left. He debates giving it to you, but he selfishly wants to watch it again. "There is perhaps— if it’s not too forward ? Why do we not share the rental?" He asks. "You can join me and we can enjoy it together?" His tone is hopeful, suddenly believing this to be the best idea he has ever imagined.

Typically, this would be the moment where the red flag waves in your mind and you think about safety. You think about every abduction scenario in every true crime story you’ve ever read or heard. This doesn’t feel like that though, and while you know that’s the lamest excuse anyone has ever had for ignoring a normally dicey situation — when was the last time you made a new friend? An extremely handsome one, at that? You can definitely dignify this to yourself and still have a good time. “I was planning on getting pizza and curling up on my couch tonight,” you admit, feeling warmth in your cheeks and a little bit of nerves like you’re fifteen and getting asked to dance by the guy you like. “So why don’t I have something delivered for us? We could…it could be fun.” And that way if you end up dead by the end of the night, someone will have seen you at his place. There. Problem solved.

It's on the tip of his tongue to protest, to insist that he would be a good host and provide the food, when he realizes why you might want to have some part of planning tonight. Instead of arguing, he nods happily, throwing a look over his shoulder to make sure that the person in front of him wasn't done yet and then back at you. "That would be acceptable, if—" He jerks his head towards the grocery store, "you allow me to purchase the snacks and desserts that we can indulge in to go along with the movies?"

It’s such an innocent request - sweet, ironically - and you can feel the broad, smitten smile spread over your face. “I think we might need more than one movie,” you suggest with a soft laugh, seeing him light up with excitement.

"Exactly!" Javi exclaims, nearly bouncing on his toes and turning around to see that the man had finished his transaction and it's his turn at the kiosk. "Shall we pick out the makings of a movie marathon of horror?" He asks, motioning you to join him as he lifts the sunscreen.

“You’re not…a Nick Cage fan, are you?” Just because he’s in your top three doesn’t mean he’s everyone’s cup of tea, but the man makes a hell of a horror movie. “Mandy is an absolute masterpiece, if this machine has a copy left.”

"We don't need to rent it." Javi looks at you bashfully, almost admitting that he is friends with Nick, but you would never believe that. "I own all of Nick's movies and those were with me so they did not get lost."

“Seriously?” Your eyebrows wing up in surprise, but you won’t pretend to be anything less than excited. Bonding over a favourite actor is definitely the foundation for a friendship - or more. “Does that mean you like Color Out of Space, too? Because I swear I can never find anyone to watch it with me and it’s so damn good.”

"Completely underrated. " Javi rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Nick was so in the zone. He said that he had really delved deep, wanting to harness the untapped potential." He grins. "He also smoked a lot of weed during production."

“Where did you find an interview with him? He never does press.” Waiting until the movie pops out of the machine and ends up in Javi’s pocket, you turn together to go into the grocery store. “I mean, I totally believe it. I’d believe if he did a hell of a lot more than just smoke pot making that movie.”

Javi bites his lip, not wanting to seem like he is bragging. Especially since he had given you that little factoid. "It was just pot." He hums in amusement. "But, uh, he told me." He admits, not wanting to make it into some big deal.

“You’ve met him?” The way your eyes widen is nearly comical considering where you live and work. It isn’t so unbelievable to just…run into a celebrity on a trip to the corner store.

"Yeah." Javi nods and gives a small shrug. "We – uh, we worked together on a project last year."

“Oh shit.” You shove your hands in the pockets of your scrubs as you walk beside him, feeling borderline mortified. You’re here fangirling and blabbering on about your little amateur project and he’s a real professional. “That—that’s awesome.”

"It was." He smiles at the thought of the last conversation the two of them. "I bet that if you were to pitch your movie idea to him, he would be interested." He says. "Nick loves the nuance of a good horror story."

"I wouldn't even know where to start." The shrug you give him is honest at least, as you pick up a basket to walk around with. "Medical receptionist by day, amateur writer by night. Emphasis on the amateur."

"I was an amateur until last year." Javi doesn't look down on you for that, grinning over at you before he steers you to the candy aisle. "We must get all the snacks we can possibly crave."

"How do you feel about sour candy?" You're practically already reaching for the bag of Sour Patch Xtreme as you ask, always loving that hit of tart sourness with your sweet ever since you were a kid. If you're going to do this - you're going to do it right.

"I have never had those, but I do love a sour punch straw." He nods, knowing that he will buy whatever you want to snack on during the movies. "Are they similar?"

"They have a pretty similar level of sour." The bag of sour sweets is added to the basket, and the fruity gummy candies give way to chocolate as the two of you walk further down the aisle.

"How do you feel about Reese’s Pieces?" He asks as he holds up a box of the candy. "I love chocolate and peanut butter and these are addictive!"

"Chocolate and peanut butter is the closest mortals get to divinity," you joke, nodding emphatically. "Better get two boxes."

"Two boxes it is." He happily dumps two boxes into the basket and grabs a shareable bag of peanut butter cups and holds them up with a grin. "Double the deliciousness."

"The next question is the most important." Strolling a little further down the aisle, a plethora of popcorn options are laid out in front of the two of you just waiting to make you salivate. "How do you like your popcorn?"

"There is only one answer." He declares with wide, serious eyes. "Buttered."

"Oh, thank god." Smirking at him, you break out into a giggle at the extreme seriousness of his expression. "I was going to have to come up with an excuse to get out of this if you picked up a bag of Skinny Pop." Not that the snack doesn't have its merits - but it has no place in a movie marathon.

"What is 'Skinny Pop'?" He asks, sneering slightly at the mere thought of something that sounds disgusting.

"No butter, no salt," you shrug, grabbing a box of movie theater style extra butter popcorn off the shelf. "No flavour, basically. And definitely no fun."

"So that will not be at our movie night." He decides, shaking his head in disbelief at how someone could enjoy that. "Tonight is about thrill, horror and indulgences."

"Drinks?" Indulgences sounds very good, but you won't let your mind get too carried away. Not when he hasn't indicated this is anything more than a spontaneous new friendship.

“We must.” Javi glances over at you. “I have wine and some sodas, but we can pick out other things.”

"Far be it from me to turn down wine and soda." The whole thing is spur of the moment and a little giddy, and you're sort of feeling like questioning it would be looking a gift horse in the mouth. Why not just go with the flow and enjoy it?

“Are we decided on pizza for our meal?” He asks, giving you a grin of excitement as he sees the plans falling into place almost naturally.

"Seems like the most appropriate, doesn't it?" Nothing in LA is ever quiet, and other customers bustle around the two of you as you linger in the aisle looking over the abundance of snacks available to you. "Pizza is the ultimate comfort and indulgence all at once."

He tilts his head and nods, agreeing completely. “Although you cannot have a comfortable night in your work clothes.” He tells you. “So you must go change into your most comfortable outfit.”

"Oh! Um..." Looking down at yourself, you realize you had completely forgotten that you were in your work clothes at all. "I guess...if you want to give me your address, I can drive over after I change? I just finished work...but I guess that's obvious."

He nods, knowing that it would make you feel more comfortable to be able to come and go as you please and to know where you were going. “Absolutely.” He pulls out his phone to show you his address since it would be easier for you to text yourself from it.

He lives in a very ritzy neighborhood; you notice that right away. It's one of those communities that you hear about movie stars living in, but you say nothing about how very different your situation is from his. It doesn't matter. Not for new friends having a movie night. Instead you just text his address to yourself from his phone and hand it back with a smile. "There. Now you have my number, too."

“Okay.” He brightens as he realizes this and paints a serious look on his face. “How do you feel about ice cream?”

"If we end up in a food coma, it will be totally worth it." You nod with authority, as if accepting a secret mission of some kind.

“Completely worth it.” He hums as the two of you walk towards the ice cream sections. “Are you a vanilla and toppings kind of girl or something specific?”

"I normally get a pint with stuff mixed in, or coffee ice cream with caramel syrup. Those are my two directions." Most girls would demure, or go straight for chocolate, but there's no need for that here. You've both been pretty in line with your preferences so far, so you're curious to see if he'll feel the same way about ice cream.

“Coffee ice cream?” He hums happily and nods. “Only if we add cookies to it as well.”

"That sounds amazing." It's practically a groan from your lips and you're nodding again immediately.

“Are you a chocolate chip kind of girl or Oreos?” He smirks, happy he could make your favorite indulgence a little sweeter. “Or both? Both is also a good option.”

"I mean, I think we have to try both." He's so fucking handsome when he lights up like that, it's distracting and makes your chest tighten just a tiny bit in the best way possible. "For science."

He would be completely solemn as he grabs the cookies from conveniently place display and places them in the basket along with a bottle of caramel and one of chocolate sauces. “For science.” He agrees, enjoying this shopping trip so much more than his normal ones,

"Do we need anything else?" At this point you're going to have enough junk food for a full day's worth of movies and you only have the night planned, but it's fun to just - as he said, indulge.

“I don’t think so.” Javi watches as you put the ice cream in the basket and grins. “Maybe some medicine for when our bellies ache.”

"I'll be very glad to have tomorrow off work." It elicits a laugh from you, flustering under the beaming sunshine of that grin of his.

“Fantastic!” The two of you make your way up to the front and Javi takes the basket from you, keeping his word that he will buy the snacks. “We will get scared and scream and eat ice cream!”

******

It's a little over an hour later when you pull up to the house halfway up the hill, its typical southern California architecture blending into the upscale neighborhood and palm trees lining the property to give it that picturesque attitude of tropical luxury. The convertible that you saw him pull out of the grocery store parking lot in is parked under the port beside the house and you pull your own little sedan up behind it before checking your reflection one more time in your rearview mirror. While you were home changing you let your roommate know your plans for the evening, gave her the address you were going to and Javi's full name and phone number all out of an abundance of safety. Now it's just you in your favourite jeans and sweatshirt wondering if you haven't made some kind of massive mistake. Are you remembering him as so much better than he really was? Were you imagining the little bit of light behind his eyes when he awkwardly offered you a brief hug before you parted in the parking lot? God you hope not. But the only way to find out is to go up to his door and ring that bell.

Javi's nervously checking everything when the doorbell rings. He'd flown back home and started getting ready for you to come over for the horror movie marathon. Wishing he had an assistant here to make things perfect like he used to have, he had been determined to give you the same kind of experience you would have gotten if he was back on the family compound in Majorca. Candy displayed in easy to reach dishes, he had decided that the popcorn was better popped when you got here, a bucket moved into the living room with ice and sodas available. and he'd doubled checked that the bathroom you could possibly use was clean - it had been a bitch learning how to clean one of those properly. (He had a completely new appreciation for putting the seat down now.) Throw pillows and blankets that the decorator had insisted on where arranged so that the two of you can sprawl out and get comfortable but he wishes he had a dedicated movie room again. Maybe the next house he buys although he knows he most likely won't.

As he walks to the door, he wonders if he's too casual, or not casual enough, shaking his head at himself because this wasn't a date but he was just as on edge as if it was one. Opening the door, he greets you with a smile. "You came."

“You sound surprised.” And it both relaxes and surprises you in your own right. Does he not know how magnetic he is? “I, uh…I almost stopped to pick up pizza on the way over, but we never discussed toppings.”

It might be pathetic the way that his shoulders relax, and he lets out a metaphorical breath he had been holding but he was surprised. "You might have changed your mind." He tries to play it off casually. "I am a strange man to you, and it could be seen as odd that I invited you over."

“My roommate knows where I am.” You tell him honestly, stepping inside when he shuffles aside to let you in. “Besides, people have the wrong idea about things that are odd. Odd makes life more interesting.”

He chuckles and closes the door, stepping beside you and smiling. "So now we can discuss those toppings and we can wait for the pizza before we start the movies? Allow for less distractions and get to know each other?"

“Lead the way.” His house is beautiful, well decorated and airy with high ceilings and fresh paint - but the tidied stacks of things here and there give the impression of what your mother would have called artistic messiness. As though at any moment the whole place might be consumed by a new obsession and the stacks of things created by his current obsession will tumble. Which is…sort of like your place, honestly.

He leads you through to the living room, the door and windows open to the back deck and a luxurious view of the hills beyond the sparkling glass. Sky gorgeous and bright hues of orange and pinks before the sun sets. "This is okay?" He asks, gesturing to the setup of the food and drinks he's amassed so far. He's even thrown things in that he's had on hand and the ice cream is still in the freezer but the bowls and scoop are set out on the kitchen island just steps away in the open living of the back of the house.

“Our very own private screening.” The living room sofa is big enough for three full grown adults to sprawl out on and the tv takes up most of the facing wall. Throw blankets and pillows dot the space carefully and a full stack of movies sit on the coffee table next to the one you had rented together. “It’s…” your face cracks into a grin as you pull out your phone to open your delivery app. “It’s perfect. Way more than okay.”

He's relieved, grinning as if you had just showered him with compliments. "Good." He motions for you to sit down, choose whatever spot makes you most comfortable. That is what he wants, for you to be comfortable.

“So what is Javi’s perfect pizza combination?” Dropping down on his couch is easy – every inch of it is plush and inviting and you pull your socked feet up under you for maximum comfort.

“What is yours?” The debate over pineapple on pizza here is endlessly fascinating to him and he wonders if you will bring it up.

“My favourite pizza is a little unorthodox.” Opening the list of specialty pies in the restaurant’s menu, you offer him your phone to let him read: barbecue sauce, pulled pork, red onion, sweet corn, and the dreaded debated topping, pineapple. “It’s totally okay if that doesn’t sound good to you,” you tell him, knowing that he might be one of the many people totally grossed out by pineapple on pizza.

His brow shoots up and he smirks. “I am willing to try this pizza.” He agrees. “I was wondering if you were a pineapple person or no.”

“I don’t like it with normal pizza sauce but it’s so good with all this barbecue stuff.” It only takes a few keystrokes to get dinner ordered, and you tuck your phone away again with a smile. “Next time we’ll get your favourite. Doesn’t matter what it is, I’ll try it.”

“I am simple.” He gives you an apologetic shrug. “Salami, peppers when I wish to have heartburn.”

“Simple and delicious.” For the life of you, you aren’t sure why you seem so sure that there will be a second time. Tonight could be awful and awkward and you might avoid that Redbox for the rest of your life just to make sure you never run into him again — but somehow you are just positive that that won’t be the case.

“Would you like a drink? A snack while we wait?” He scrubs his palms against the lounging pants he had change into and gives a small chuckle. “I guess I underdressed for tonight.” He had gone a little too casual since you are in jeans.

“I don’t think it’s possible to underdress to sit on the couch and watch a movie.” You assure him. The truth is that you hadn’t tossed on the pair of yoga pants that you usually lounge around the apartment in because you’re a bit self-conscious about showing of your - admittedly round - figure. When it’s just you and your also plus sized roommate at home, you don’t care. “You said comfy, so these are my comfiest jeans. That’s all.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t quite believe that but he won’t push the subject. “Either way, you are beautiful and I am lucky you joined me tonight.”

“I—” Beautiful? You can feel the pleased and slightly embarrassed warmth creeping up your chest and neck and you have to clear your throat a tiny bit. “Thank you. I-I’m lucky you invited me.”

“I have been wanting to have someone to watch horror movies with and fate placed you right in my path. And it’s very nice it is someone like you.” He grins and motions to the collection of movies. “This is what we have to choose from tonight.”

“I think we have to watch The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, don’t we?” Not that that will bother either of you. After all, it was your individual plan for the night.

"Of course. That should be first." He declares as he set the rented DVD on the coffee table apart from the other movies. "What else would you like to watch? I am open to all of them."

"You have an amazing collection." The stack of movies includes anything remotely spooky that Nick Cage has ever made, plus some classic slashers, groundbreaking pieces like The Exorcist and both versions of Suspiria, and more obscure choices like Let's Scare Jessica to Death. "Oh, I looove Suspiria." It's been ages since you've seen the original - streaming services tending to carry the remake these days. "Dario Argento is an absolute genius."

"I agree completely." Javi grins, quickly adding it to the must watch side. "Let us choose one more - just in case." He doesn't not want you to stay past the time you are comfortable, but it has been a long time since he has indulged in a night of nothing but movies.

"What's your favourite slasher?" Something classic, something artistic, and something gory. That's the key to a horror trio, in your opinion.

"I have a guilty pleasure movie." Javi admits, rummaging in the pile of movies and pulling one that he had deliberately put at the bottom of the pile. "2006's Stay Alive is an underrated movie, although it is not a traditional slasher, so I do not think it counts."

"I've actually never seen it." You offer him an encouraging smile because you can tell he's a little embarrassed to like it, and put it in the to be watched stack. "Don't tell me anything about it. I want to be surprised."

His grin lights up his face and nods eagerly. "My lips are sealed." He promises happily.

"Fantastic." The candy and some drinks have been spread around the room, but you had spotted the box of popcorn in the kitchen on your way through the house. "The pizza will probably take an hour or so." You shrug. Both of you know how busy a Friday night in LA is for a pizza place and how bad traffic can be for a delivery driver. "How does a popcorn appetizer and a drink sound while we get the first movie started?"

"Do you want wine, or I do have some whiskey if you prefer?" He asks, motioning over to the very sophisticated bar that is in the corner of the room. "It does not have to be just sodas."

"Actually..." His place is clean, you feel comfortable, and most importantly your Spidey sense isn't tingling or sending you red flags, so you smile and offer him a little nod. "Wine sounds great."

He nods and quickly walks around the bar to open the wine fridge that is behind it. "I have a Cava from my own family vineyard if you like sparkling wine?" He offers, holding up a bottle. "It is one of my favorite years."

"Your family has its own vineyard?" Your eyebrows wing up in surprise. "That's...killer."

"It is in Spain." He gives you a small shrug as if it is not a big deal. "Majorca."

"Which is even cooler." He downplays it as though he isn't proud, but he would not have even mentioned the vintage if some part of him didn't want you to know. It's the getting to know you phase of things and that's always entertaining. "The coolest thing my family ever owned was a camper."

"There is nothing wrong with a camper." He argues. "You can take it with you and have adventures."

"Well sure," you shrug, watching him carelessly pop the cork from the bottle like he's done it once a week since he was old enough to lift one. "But it would be a lot cooler to take the camper to a vineyard and camp out in the valley."

"Or maybe a tent." He hums. "One of those that are large and have a house set up in them. With the large bed and fairy lights strung overhead while you drink around a fire in vineyard?"

"That sounds absolutely dreamy." Glamping, your mom would call it, turning up her nose at it even while she used every inch of the kitchenette in the camper just like she was making dinner at home. "Like the perfect weekend getaway. Camping and drinking and snuggles. I love it."

"Have you ever done that?" He asks, wondering if you have a boyfriend suddenly. He doesn't think so, surely you would have said something, but he has to ask.

"Weekend camping getaway?" He picks two glasses up from the top of the bar and carries everything over to the sofa while you shake your head. "No...I don't think I've been camping with anyone but my family ever. And it's been years since we did that together."

"You should." He shakes his head and thinks that it is an utter shame that you do not get to indulge in something you obviously love. "I have heard camping in the desert is lovely."

"It's dangerous to do alone." It's not like you've run into a lot of guys who share all of your indoor, nerdy hobbies and love camping as much as you do. It's a unique combination, and you don't really care for the idea of risking your safety by going alone.

“That is something that I have not tried yet, but I want to.” Javi was sheltered a lot and since he had come to the US, he wanted to do things that were unavailable to him before.

"You should." The glass he hands to you to bubbling and cheery and inviting, making the look of wistful longing on his face even more pronounced. "Sleeping under the stars and cooking over a campfire? It's fun." And romantic, but you hesitate to point that out at the moment.

"I will have to find someone to knows how to do it." He wants to ask if you would show him, but that is entirely presumptuous for a movie night between people getting know each other. "Show me the ropes as you say."

"I hope you find just the right person." This would be so much easier if you had any idea whether or not he was flirting...

He bites his lip, slightly disappointed that you did not offer but he cannot make you like him. Instead of moping, he taps the rim of his own wine glass to yours. "To making new friends and movie marathons."

"And being extremely clumsy in line at the Redbox." You have to laugh at yourself, seeing as how it ended up with such a fun night for both of you. The part of you that is normally shakingly self-conscious is a little quieter with him. You're just a little nervous instead of downright anxious, which is the way that meeting new people normally makes you feel. And that is a very big deal to you.

"It was my pleasure to be accosted by your purse." He teases, sending you a small wink before he takes a sip of his wine. "It is not every day a gorgeous creature such as yourself runs into me." He tells you. "My very own rom-com meet cute."

If you hadn't just swallowed a sip of the delicious wine, you might be wearing it, completely floored by the compliment and wondering if it is possible for cheeks to become the temperature of lava instantly. "Believe me," you murmur, sure that you look as flustered as you feel. "The pleasure is all mine."

Javi wants to impress you, feeling very delighted in the way your eyes slide away shyly, like you were flustered. "Would you like to see my collection?" He asks you suddenly. "I have a lot of film memorabilia."

“Sure!” You have a few favourite recreated props and other pieces of your own. Enough to know that the pieces a person collects says a lot about them as a person. “Sounds like fun.”

Javi grins and motions you deeper into the house. "I had a better set up in Spain, but this is what I decided to bring with me when I— when I moved." He wants to go back and get more, but he has been nervous to, opening the door to the second bedroom and flipping on the light so you can step inside.

“Oh wow…” Stepping inside the room makes your eyes widen and your jaw slacken slightly, just taking in the sheer amount of actual real movie props on display in the large re-purposed bedroom. The built-in shelves are chock full of specifically Nick Cage-related items and you go from shocked to ear-to-ear grinning in an instant. “Oh, so you’re a Nick Cage fan,” you tease lightly, even though you immediately go over to inspect the chainsaw sitting on a table against the far wall. “Is this the actual prop chainsaw from Mandy??”

"Yes." Javi grins, catching the pure delight in your voice. "He was impressed with the collection too." He admits. "Although I still need to get my golden guns back from him."

“The golden guns?” When you whirl back around to look at him you’re in awe again. “How did you possibly get ahold of this stuff, Javi? You must be like the single most successful auction bidder of all time.”

He gives another shrug and looks around the room again, unsure of how to answer that. "I guess that anything is possible with enough money." He says finally before he looks back at you. "It is how I met Nick. I paid for him to come to my birthday two years ago."

“I—wow…” Of course you’ve heard of things like that, but never actually met anyone who did it. That kind of thing takes an insane amount of money. And usually an ego - the kind of person who believes they should get to possess the world just because they can buy it. Javi is definitely not like that. He’s sweet, and unassuming, and kind of seems like he didn’t want to even admit it at first. Maybe so you wouldn’t think less of him? “And then you worked together after that?” You can’t help the way your curious eyes roam around the room, zeroing in on the encased copy of the Declaration of Independence from National Treasure with the cipher encoded on the back. It’s cheesy, but you love those movies so much.

"I asked him if he would write a script with me." He admits, looking around proudly. "I think we will take home the Oscar this next year."

"Wait—" You're starting to feel like your head is spinning a little as the eerie feeling being sure that he must be famous somehow slides into place. The puzzle pieces that click in your head nearly make you squeak out loud when you look up at him again. "The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent? That was your script?"

He tips his shoulders up again, self-conscious again and he wonders if you hated the movie. "Guilty." He admits, rushing over to a shelf and pulling out his working script. His and Nick's notes are scrawled through it and he holds it out to you, proud of his name emblazoned on the front.

"You don't understand..." Your fingertips barely touch the pages, like you're afraid it might burn you or release some kind of booby trap. "I love this movie. Like I went to see it five times in theaters and I took notes on the characterization because I thought it was so good. It's phenomenal, Javi." The way your chest tightens, realizing that this man in front of you is the genius behind one of your favourite new films, is fangirling and excitement and definitely a dose of attraction like you've never felt before. "You're an incredibly talented writer, and I—I'm sure any horror movie you write is going to blow the genre right out of the water."

He can't help but blush, flustering as he looks down at the script that he had pour his soul into. "T-thank you." He murmurs softly, touched that you would say such a kind thing to him. Even after reading the reviews, he still didn't believe the success of the film, but he gives all the credit for it to Nick and his brilliant performance.

"Seriously." The way he shies away is endearing, almost blustering. "If you don't win an Oscar, I'll protest the damn Academy myself."

He gives a small laugh, relaxing at your vehement claim and nods. "I might take you up on that if it comes to it."

"Cross my heart," you promise, warming at the smile that spreads across his face.

When the doorbell rings, Javi is disappointed to leave the room in order to go to the front door to collect dinner. Pouting slightly when you insist that you pay, he at least pulls out his wallet to tip the driver, something that he had learned was very important here in the states.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is only an hour long, the 1920 black and white classic being a perfect way to start the night as you both dig into the barbecue pizza and continue to savor the delicious cava that his family's vineyard produces. Things are a little more relaxed between you now, as you've started to get to know each other, and you feel like you're starting to get a clearer version of who this sweet, incredibly talented, and fairly nerdy man really is.

He is drawn to you. You are witty, incredibly knowledgeable and gorgeous. He feels himself starting to develop a crush on you, even as the movie plays and the two of you snack on the treats he had purchased. Enjoying the way that you laugh with your entire being and he wants to make sure that you continue to do that. Your eyes sparkle when you do and your smile is mesmerizing.

By the time Caligari is over and Suspiria is popped into the DVD player, you're pleasantly buzzing from the wine and pull one of the throw blankets off the back of the couch to drape over you as you start to crave that feeling of comfy-coziness that always comes with movie night. It lays over both you and Javi easily, almost putting you in a little cocoon together. He has inched closer to you, drawn to the spicy, floral scent of your perfume and needing the warmth of another body close by as he shivers slightly. His eyes move from the movie over to you and he bites his lip.

It’s a slightly sexier film, although that wasn’t at all why you recommended it, and you wonder if it has anything to do with the way Javi has shifted slightly beside you on the couch. Somehow, over the last hour or more, you’ve inched closer to each other And while you aren’t complaining in the least, it is definitely making you feel like there’s some kind of fire igniting in the place where your arms and sides are pressing lightly against each other. It’s intoxicating in a way that is completely different from the wine and far more distracting - a trick of your mind or wishful thinking making you sure you’ve caught him looking at you more than a few times tonight.

His breath catches slightly and can't deny that there is a sense of eroticism to this that has him thinking about other erotic things that nothing to do with the movie and everything to do with woman sitting beside him.

“Do you—um—” You swear you heard him gasp but you’re not sure why, and you glance over at Javi about halfway through the movie. “Are you enjoying it?”

"I am." Javi murmurs, leaning in more and inching just a little closer to you. "Are you? Anything to do to make it better?"

He’s barely a breath away when he leans in again, and you feel like you might catch on fire if he gets any closer - though you’re too fuzzy from the nearness to know if that’s a bad thing or not. “I mean…” You crack a grin, feeling your heart in your throat. “Did you have something in mind?”

"That is a...question." Javi nearly gulps as he wonders if you are waiting for him to make a move. "One that has several answers." He admits with a small grin.

It would only take the smallest movement to close the space between you, and your eyes flicker to his lips before you can stop yourself. "I—I think I'm very interested in those answers..."

There is his answer. Javi nods to himself, making up his mind as he stares at you softly. "You are?" He smirks slightly and reaches up to cup your cheek. When you nod, he leans in to kiss you in a burst of confidence.

When the moment of hesitation passes, it seems like you both internally toss up your hands. His arms are around you, you're pressing into his space, and the thread of tension that has finally snapped has both of you sighing into the kiss and letting it linger between you. His lips are soft and warm, drawing you in just as assuredly as his arms are around your body.

Javi groans against your lips, shuffling forward and needs to be closer to you. Wishing that he was lying next to you but that can be remedied, the tv and movie completely forgotten.

The only thought left in your head at this point is him - your hands finding purchase in his shirt before one slides up to the back of his neck and eventually ends up in his hair. Your kiss passed any version of innocent about thirty seconds ago and you don't give a single damn, especially not when you feel like tongue drag delicately along the seam of your lips and you open up to let him in without hesitation.

He moans as you let him in. Nothing mattering but the way you taste. He shuffles, pushing off the couch with his lips still locked to yours and moving so that he can climb onto the cushions beside you, his arms wrapping around your soft shoulders and pulling you to his chest. It all seems to happen in slow motion despite how eagerly you’re both grasp for each other. But within moments you’re laying side by side on the overly deep couch cushions, tangled up in each other’s arms with the entire rest of the world forgotten.

Javi slides his hand down your thick side, reaching for the cushion of your thigh and pulls it up, draping it over his hip so he can slide closer. Groaning when he feels the heat that is wonderfully trapped by your core radiating out while he slowly explores your mouth.

It really is the last thing you expected to happen tonight. Nothing could have been farther from your mind when you accepted his invitation. But now that you’re here it feels like it was meant to be. The tented front of his soft lounge pants hides nothing, letting you feel the heat and hardness of his excitement grinding into your core worth every roll of his hips. It’s stunning, and you moan into his kiss eagerly as you scramble to pull him impossibly closer.

He shudders when you drag him closer, happily going wherever you wanted him. A scream sounds from the tv but all he can think about is how you taste, breaking away from your lips so he can kiss down your heated skin.

“Javi—” As soon as he moves down your neck his name is dripping from your lips, a nearly ecstatic moan as you can practically feel him hardening between your legs.

“Beautiful.” He whispers against your skin. His teeth scrap over your pulse and he soothes it with his tongue. Sliding his hand up and down your thick thigh lovingly, he reaches back and slides his hand into the pocket of your jeans and grabs a large handful of your ass. “So fucking sexy.”

You whimper at that, drinking in his praise and rolling your hips up to meet his. “Want you so fucking bad,” you admit breathlessly, so wrapped up in him that you feel overwhelmed and elated all at once.

“You do?” Javi pulls back and gives you an almost surprised look. Half afraid that he had been caught up in the moment or that he was pushing too hard. “What do you want?”

“You.” Admittedly, you’re surprised that he’s surprised, but you’ve got enough self-esteem issues to not question it. “A-as much as you’re comfortable with.” Really, you have to laugh a little, but only a little. “I mean…I’m not opposed to sex in the first date…even if we didn’t really plan for it to be a date.”

“I wanted it to be.” He admits with a shy grin. “But I did not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

“I wanted it to be.” Reaching up, you brush an errant curl out of his eyes. “But I didn’t think you were interested in me that way.”

“I am not blind.” He grunts, pouting at you and leaning in to kiss you again. “You are a very beautiful woman and I want to take you to bed.”

“Please.” You are in no way above begging, especially when a man this handsome is praising you and wanting you. It makes you want to give it back tenfold.

It is hard to pull himself away, but he does it knowing that he is going to be able to be much closer soon. Standing up and holding out his hand for you, wanting to help you off the sofa. “We will be more comfortable in a bed.”

He’s stronger than he looks. You notice that immediately when he helps you off the sofa with ease, and pulls you directly into him for another kiss that leaves you breathless. “Lead the way,” you murmur when you’re forced to come up for air.

He’s nervous as he guides you down the hall, past the memorabilia room towards the master bedroom of the house. It’s been a long time since he had been with someone besides Gabriella and he wasn’t sure if that was in his favor.

Maybe you recognize that he's nervous because you've felt that way so many times before, or maybe you recognize it because you're also feeling it in this exact moment. Either way, when you reach for his hand just inside the doorway of his bedroom, you offer him a soft smile of assurance. "I'm nervous too. Don't worry about it."

“You should not be worried.” Javi frowns slightly. “You are gorgeous. Men must hit on you all the time.”

"Never." When you laugh it isn't exactly self-deprecating, just matter-of-fact. "I think you're the first man I've been alone with in...nearly a year?" You shrug, lacing your fingers through his in that same steady, supportive way. "You, though? Gorgeous, sweet, funny, and clever? I don't know how you're possibly single." And then you smirk at him, and wink, teasing to hopefully lighten the mood. Because he's too genuine of a man for you to believe he would lie about something big like that. "You are single, right?"

“Very much single.” He promises, although he would like that to change. “I have been used to people caring about me because of my name, my money.” He admits with a small shrug. “The last woman I was with could not handle wanting to put aside those things.”

"Then she wasn't good enough for you." There's a certainty in your voice - a surety - that you genuinely believe what you're saying. Money and fame aren't things you give a shit about, which makes you something of a unicorn in LA. "But all the better for me. Since I'm the one with you now."

He gives you a grin and a small wink. “That depends on how I perform.” He reminds you with a chuckle.

"If you fuck as well as you kiss, I don't think we have anything to worry about." Even if he fucks half as well as he kisses, you'll be in heaven. The man makes kissing seem like the most passionate indulgence on earth and you're pretty much living for it.

There is a slight ruddiness to his cheeks but he doesn’t shy away. Instead he reaches for your hips and pulls you closer. “There is only one way to find out.” He murmurs softly.

From there it's almost a blur getting to the bed, clothes being tossed aside as hands and lips caress every inch of skin as it is exposed. A flurry of grasping hands and needy kisses until the backs of your legs hit against his bedframe and you both go tumbling backward onto his mattress.

“Oh fuck.” Your softness is exquisite, and Javi pushes you into his bed as he clambers on top of you.

Somehow you knew his bed would be soft and luxurious, and the solid weight of him on top of you has you pressed into the mattress so he seems to fully surround you. Your knees part to make room for him in the cradle of your thighs, and every inch of you is on fire with wanting him. There are no barriers left - not a stitch of clothing - and you swear it might be the first time ever that you haven't immediately wanted to hide from sight when you were first bare for a new partner. Something about him just makes you feel safe, in a way you can't say you've ever felt before.

“You are so beautiful.” Javi gushes, his cock hard and leaking against your pillowy hip and he cannot help but rock himself into your skin, luxuriating in the warmth. “Gorgeous, a goddess to be worshiped.”

"We have all the time in the world." As badly as your body might be screaming to cut to the chase, aching for him to be inside you, the time to explore is something you won't take for granted. Maybe it will never happen again. Maybe this is just a one-time thing. If it is, you want as many beautiful memories of him as you can possibly get.

“I want to make you feel good.” He shuffles back to his knees, drinking in the sight of your body spread out for him and he cannot stop stroking your thighs. “What do you want, preciosa?”

Even just a few inches back he's out of your reach, and the impulse to reach for him - to wrap your fingers around his length and find out exactly what kind of pressure he likes with a fist around his cock - melts away to wondering if he's offering to do that. You lick your lips unconsciously, biting the lower one a second later as his large hands knead your thighs gently. "Would you..." You would never make him, but he did ask what you wanted. "Taste me?"

Javi groans in relief, happy that you have voiced your desire and nods eagerly. “Yes.” He practically pants as he leans in and presses his lips to yours. “I want to see how you respond to my fingers, to my tongue. Reenact Blue Valentine?”

It takes you a second to roll through your vague memory of the movie to figure out what scene he's talking about, but when you arrive at it, a smirk forms on your lips. "Do you like to have your hair pulled?"

He bites his lip and flashes you a slightly guilty look. “I don’t know.” He admits. “None of— no one has done that while I—” he breaks off the rest of the comment in embarrassment.

"Would you like to find out?" You won't push him to do anything that he doesn't want to, but you want to give him a chance to experience something new if he wants. And if you remember that scene in Blue Valentine correctly, there was a whole lot of hair pulling.

“Yes.” He doesn’t even hide how badly he wants to find out how it would feel. “Only if you want to though.”

"I definitely do." With gorgeous thick waves of hair like he has, you doubt you would have been able to resist.

You’ve given him permission, now all he has to do is move. Javi can’t until he leans back down again, stealing one last kiss before he starts to blaze a trail of kisses over your skin to his goal. Your head drops back onto the duvet the second you feel his breath on your core, his name a whimper from the back of your throat as you arch your back off the bed to try to get him to move closer to where you want him most.

There is a deliciousness to the way that you squirm towards him. It makes him feel greedy in ways he didn’t know he could. He starts slow, kissing the entrancing flesh over your womb and then both of your generous hips. In no way concerned with the rolls and folds he sees. Actually eager to explore.

Aware enough of yourself and your body to let your legs open wide for him. Leaning up on your elbows lets you watch the flex in his shoulders and the intense concentration on the parts of his face you can actually see when he isn't burying himself in your pussy. It's completely divine, drawing vocal moans and whimpers and gasps from your throat and making you so glad you talked it through so you don't have to hesitate for even a second before threading your fingers through the thick mass of hair on his head and giving a small but definitive tug with your nails scratching along his scalp.

The sensation of you pulling on his hair goes straight to his cock and he cannot help the loud moan that he sounds directly into your pussy. His hands sliding under your hips and wrapping around them before he dives deeper.

"Fuck!" It's like you found an Encouragement Button, and you repeat the action to see if you'll get as eager a reaction the second time. When he moans into you again you keen, loving the way the vibrations roll through your body and make you shiver.

He loves how vocal you are. Every sound you make is pushing him to make you give him more. Turning nearly craven for the praises that tumble from your lips and the sharp tugs on his hair. That he takes his time is both torturous and a virtue. Every stroke of his tongue is bringing you closer to your peak but not quickly - it's like he took your remark about having all the time in the world extremely literally. He is exploring every inch of you from the inside out, devouring you systematically, and you hope he never stops.

Javi slowly learns your body, his hands sliding up and down your thighs, caressing them as he licks into you. Taking brief pauses so he can kiss your inner thighs, right where they rub together before plunging back into your cunt like a favored dessert. Sweeter than all the candy still laying in his living room; he groans into you again.

The rambling, whimpering, begging mess you have become would probably make you a prime candidate for homemade porn but you can’t find a single ounce of restraint in yourself anymore. One hand flexes and pulls in Javi’s hair, tugging a little tighter as that familiar twisting in your belly starts to take over. Your legs tremble a little with the intensity of it, tensing at his ears and telling him you’re close before you can even gasp out the words.

You are so reactive to his tongue. Javi groans and doubles down on how eagerly he licks into you. Begging you to cum with every flick of his tongue. When you crest that peak you’re practically sobbing, your free hand tangled in the duvet and the one in his hair pulling tight the way you - and he - have learned that he likes. It makes you incredibly glad that you’re doing this at his place and not yours. Your roommate would be pounding on the wall and telling you to keep your ’oh gods’ to yourself. But when your thighs squeeze his ears just that much tighter and your back completely leaves the bed, that flood of cum makes you cry his name as loud as you please, and you don’t give a damn who hears it.

He can’t help but grind into the bed, needing the friction to relieve the aching want that is nearly at its breaking point. Unable to do anything but push you through your high, he moans into you as you soak his chin with the deliciously tangy flood of your cum.

“Holy fuck.” You can’t help giggling a little when you get your breath back, looking down at Javi and soothing your hand through his hair gently.

He grins, like a student receiving praise from a teacher or a man getting lavish praises from a lover, soaking it up and nuzzling into your touch. “You taste amazing.” He murmurs, ducking his head again to take another lazy lick.

"I'm glad you think so." That extra little shot of attention to your core makes you shiver. "You ready for more, querido?" The endearment slips from your lips easily when you look down at him, wondering who could possibly let this incredible man slip through their fingers and how grateful you are that they did.

“If you are.” He is aching to slide inside you, but if you are tired from your orgasm or have changed your mind, he will not protest. “What do you want?”

“You.” This time when you say it, it’s practically a moan. “Want you inside me, Javi, please.”

Javi nods, shuffling up to his knees and leaning over you so that he can reach for the nightstand. It’s been some time, but he wouldn’t be so irresponsible as to not have protection.

There's small amounts of shifting - pulling the duvet back and finding the comfortable nest of pillows at the top of his bed, wrapping up in each other for languid kisses, and finally resettling with Javi nestled between your thighs. Neither of you has the mind left for teasing, needing to feel how well you fit together.

The condom on, Javi braces his weight to one side - his right. Taking himself in hand, he strokes himself gently and groans when he presses up against your wet entrance. “Are you sure?” He looks earnestly into your eyes, elated that you are in his bed, but giving you one last chance to change your mind before he slides inside you.

"Absolutely." Your smile is as soft as your hands are when you cup his cheeks, thumbs dragging along the stubble on his jaw when you reach up to kiss him again. It's the surest you've been about anything in a long time, and that is surprisingly more reassuring than anything else.

He goes slow. His body suspended over yours, he fills you one slow inch at the time. In no rush as he stretches you out, his lips part against yours and a low moan is breathed into you as your walls grip him tight.

The moment of pause you both need to adjust to each other is only a pause. By your next breath you're shifting beneath him, raising your leg up to hitch high on his hip and let him sink a little deeper. Both of you groan deeply, messy and eager kisses interrupted only when he starts to move inside you.

Once he starts to move, he can think of nothing but the way you feel. Your walls pulsing around him and the soft cushion of your thighs and hips as he rocks into you. Panting out your name as he bottoms out again and again.

The rhythm takes over, hips rolling and breath mingling together slowly at first. The slow doesn't last long though, as both of you feel that same shuddering need for closeness that soon enough you have both hands above your head to brace yourself against hitting your head on his headboard as his pace ramps up to demanding. It's perfect. Both of your legs are wrapped around his waist as he pounds into your dripping cunt, tits bouncing with every thrust and encouraging praise falling from your lips in an endless ramble.

All Javi can do is grit his teeth, hissing between them at how tight you get. How obscene it sounds as his hips slap against your thighs and ass and your entire body takes the force of his increasingly hard thrusts. “Fuck.”

"So fucking good," you can feel yourself on the edge again, though the shaking in your thighs is as much from the way he's fucking you as it does with your impending orgasm. "Goddamn, baby, I'm gonna cum, fuck."

“Good.” Javi groans, your words just making him work that much harder. Sweat rolling down his face but he doesn’t pay it any attention, to lost in the way your walls are fluttering around him. “Cum baby, cum.”

It’s so easy to give in. To surrender to how fucking perfect he feels pounding you into mattress. You tense up under him, keening in pleasure and letting his name be the sound that falls from your lips as you fully come apart for him again. The only thing that could have been better would be if he had cum at the same time, but as you clench around him and draw him even deeper into your cunt you can feel how erratic his thrusts become.

He pants, a small whine the only sound he makes, his brow furrowed as he follows you into bliss. Gasping out your name as he stops thrusting, grinding deep into you as he can possibly get and pours himself into the condom in sheer relief.

“Fuck.” That small giggle touches your lips again, making you grin broadly against Javi’s shoulder as he holds himself over you. Just a little coaxing from you encourages him to let go and lay on top of you while he catches his breath, letting you ghost kisses across his face and shoulders and comb his hair from his face in the meantime.

He chuckles slightly, turning his head so he can press his lips to yours. He had anticipated renting a movie, coming home, and watching it by himself while he wished that he had someone beside him. Instead, he had literally run into you and was now more relaxed than he has probably ever been. “If this is how we act with horror movies, how will we be with romance?”

You grin at him, beaming in the afterglow of something so unexpected and beautiful. “There’s only one way to find out.”

His own grin matches your and he leans in to nuzzle your cheeks. “We can move the movie marathon into the bedroom and in the morning - I’ll treat you a brunch. If you want to spend the night and fall asleep watching movies with me.” He adds hopefully.

“Hmmm,” you pretend to think, leaving a kiss on the tip of his nose. “I think I’d like that a whole lot.”

“Good.” Javi flushes from both the kiss and the supreme corniness of his coming comment. “We can cuddle for safety.” He teases with a grin. “Have I mentioned I get scared very easy?”

"Don't worry." You tell him, when you finally stop giggling. "I'll protect you."

Javi grins and rolls off of you, pulling you with him so that you are sprawled on top of him, completely unconcerned with your weight. Actually enjoying the way you feel, grounding him and helping him feel like all of this is really real. “My heroine.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Javi Gutierrez #Javi Gutierrez x reader #Javi Gutierrez x you #Javi Gutierrez x female reader #the unbearable weight of massive talent #tuwomt #plus size reader #spooktober #meetcute

416 notes · View notes