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fushipurro · 6 months

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Lessons in Love

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☆ Synopsis: A sudden book tour event forces you and toji to have some time apart. Complicated feelings arise and more troubles stir that shake the foundations of your relationship.

☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, f!reader, mma!toji, jjk au, pet names, roommate!satoru, roommate!suguru, foreplay (vaginal, nipple), creampie, biting/sucking/scratching, age gap (10 years), mentions of violence and blood, jealousy/angst, toji fluff, nanami fluff, masturbation, phone sex

☆ Word Count: 6k

"say that again, doll?"

"i said~, my publisher wants me to go on a book tour to celebrate my upcoming release."

"i heard that part," he reached around your waist, pulling you tightly against his bare body, "but what i didn't hear was how long you'd be away from me for."

"it's only for two weeks, toji," you laughed, "i'll be back by christmas and then we can spend the whole day together, okay?"

the man buried his face in your hair, hands refusing to let go of your body. a part of him afraid that if he let you go, you'd shatter again and he'd never get you back.

"besides, i'll still be able to call so you better answer," your hand moved over his, sinking deeper against him. "this is really important to me."

"i know, sweetheart," his husky voice vibrated off your neck, "i know you'll do so well." he smirked, leaving soft kisses against your skin.

the day of your flight came all but slowly, cursing yourself for agreeing to an early flight, but still had all your bags packed and ready to go. toji refused to let you go off in a taxi, insisting that he'll drive you to the airport himself.

it drove him crazy giving you space the night before, but you both knew if you slept together beforehand, you'd be doing anything but sleeping. either way, toji didn't get an ounce of sleep as evident by the deep circles below his eyes.

he snatched your luggage from you at the entrance to your apartment, "you seriously need all this?"

"hey you should know by now that it takes a lot to make a good appearance, i have to look my best!"

"you always do thou─"

"y/n~!"

you turned before immediately getting tackled into a hug by satoru, suguru standing behind. toji scowled, resisting the urge to scruff him off of you like he was a cat.

"you better call and send tons of photos, we're gonna miss our favorite roommate."

"i'll miss you too, 'toru," you smiled, "you too, sugu. i'll call you guys at the hotel."

suguru took the initiative to pull his man off you so you wouldn't miss your flight.

"you ready yet?" toji asked, with an annoyed puff. he softened his expression when you looked back up at him.

you wished the drive to the airport would last longer. being away from toji now wasn't going to be easy in any way, especially with how much better your relationship has been in recent times. time apart is a good thing though, right? absence makes the heart grow fonder, blah blah blah...

once on the road, toji's hand rested on your thigh keeping a comfortable grip.

"what are you going to do while i'm gone?"

"the only thing i'm good at, fighting," he scoffed.

"oh please, toji, you're plenty good with more than that."

his face lit up with an almost predatory gaze and his grip tightened, thumbing rubbing circles on your thigh, "oh yeah? like what?"

you laughed, "the light's green, honey."

"and yet, all i see is red, sugar," he smirked.

as expected, when you made it to the airport, he refused again to let you carry anything but your own purse. staying right at your side with his eyes on you.

a blond man came into sight and a smile crossed your face.

"hope i didn't keep you waiting for long, mr nanami!"

"miss fushiguro," the man greeted, giving a quick adjustment to his tie, "and who is this you brought?"

"oh right, toji, this is my publisher, mr nanami." you stood between the two men, oblivious to the scowl toji was making.

toji stood close, fixing his posture like it was some competition. his eyes coldly set on the man before him. right now he's just feeling extra possessive even when really there's no need.

that doesn't stop his large hand grabbing hold of your waist to pull you against him, "i'm toji. y/n's boyfriend."

"a pleasure, toji," kento remained calm, glancing at his watch and back to you, "now that you're here, we should go check in for our flight."

your expression turned sullen, eyes turning to toji with an attempt to smile. he leaned down in front of your face, mere inches from your lips.

"what's wrong, princess? you missin' me already?"

your hands reached behind his neck and pulled him closer, eyes glossing over but still trying to be happy, "i am".

"well don't think you're leaving without this," he pressed his lips against yours for a few moments and when the kiss was done, you planted your forehead against his while cupping his cheeks.

"you just be a good girl and come back to me soon, okay?"

"i will, i promise," you nodded, wiping your tears and waving goodbye to toji, walking off with kento.

toji wasn't the sappy type to sit there by the window waiting for your takeoff, but that didn't stop him from keeping his eyes to sky instead of the empty leather passenger seat beside him.

the moment the plane touched down at your destination, chaos quickly ensued.

kento kept a tight schedule and urged punctuality. your luggage was dropped off in a hotel room and you were whisked away for one of many meetings to occur in the next two weeks.

on toji's end, he trained at the gym until the the moon was high before hitting up a ramen stall on his way home. he wished so badly his phone would shine your pretty little face and as much as he debated just calling you himself, he figured you were probably be busy with work anyways.

the first night of your book tour went better than you hoped. the venue was full of various people begging for signatures and photos with you, eager to know more details about your upcoming book.

kento kept everything running smoothly, trying to make sure you weren't overwhelmed by the crowd but also making sure it was a good first impression for the tour.

when you finally got back to your hotel, you wasted no time in crashing onto the bed and closing your eyes for a few minutes.

"would you like to shower first, miss fushiguro?" your publisher interrupted, setting his briefcase down on the desk in the room.

"oh no, that's fine. i'll probably take longer so do what you need to do."

i also want to see how he's doing.

right. the one thing you meant to do and said you would when you got here before running off to your own world.

pulling your phone out, the first dozen notifications were all from satoru asking if you were still alive along with photos of him and suguru together.

nothing from toji, which was a bit saddening, but not atypical of him.

y/n fushiguro sorry, it's been a long day. you up? sent: 12:16am

you put your phone down not expecting much given the time, when to your surprise it began to ring.

"i'm surprised you're still awake."

"don't you sound tired, sweetheart."

"that's what shaking hands and talking to several dozen people will do to you," you laughed, your voice slightly hoarse. "i miss you, toji."

the man was silent for a moment, "i miss you too."

for the next several minutes, you chatted away, telling toji all about the people you saw, the things they said or asked. he was more than happy just to listen you talk. oh how he missed the sound of your voice in his ears.

the door clicked behind you, followed by kento's smooth voice filling the room, "it's all yours, miss fushiguro."

"hah?" toji growled, "you ain't alone?"

you nodded to kento and placed your attention back to your phone, "no i'm with mr nanami. it's just us representing for the tour so it was easier to cover costs with one hotel room."

"that so? well for his sake i hope he keeps his hands to himself."

"toji!" you scolded, your groggy voice turned to a whisper, "there's nothing to worry about. look who's being a little jealous now," you teased.

toji scoffed, rolling over on his side looking down at the empty spot you always lay on when you're with him in bed. those words hit his head abruptly like spotting yourself in a mirror. jealous?

jealousy was something toji wasn't, or rather, couldn't be familiar with. growing up as a black sheep in his family, mistreated while everyone else was loved and accepted.

he never was told what he did wrong besides the fact that he was born and there was nothing he could do to right it. forced to bear with that "sin" and continue honoring his family name.

maybe a piece of him was always jealous but toji was not allowed to express these types of feelings, he couldn't express "weakness" in any form and had to become the strongest.

it was only when he finally cut himself away from that life that he was able to create a false reality for himself. he used the zenin name in the underground arena as a means to besmirch what should have been the family that loved him. he created this whole persona of someone capable, someone everyone either feared or desired.

he doesn't need to be jealous anymore as he is now. he's been forced to rely on only himself and has become so sure of himself that being envious shouldn't cross his mind but yet in this situation, it does.

you came along and started chipping away at the walls he built around himself but yet you still you want him more. you look at him like you would anyone else, a human, and not some walking calamity that shouldn't ever have been born.

your willingness to love and accept toji for who he his despite knowing so little about his past or the hell he's walked through time and time again, he treasures that.

maybe that's why he felt the way he did. jealous. despite what he went through and how he believes he doesn't truly deserve you, none of that could possibly stop his heart from beating the way it does in your presence.

he wants to be selfish and keep you for himself. he wants to protect you even if you don't need it. most of all, he's enjoying how it feels to be loved wholeheartedly.

"toji? tooojjjiii."

the man snapped back into reality, "yeah?"

"i thought you fell asleep on me, you okay?"

"i'm fine," he hummed in response, "you on the other hand should be asleep already. can't look your best for the fans if you show up with bags under your eyes."

hearing you laugh and in an especially tired sort of way calmed him in ways he couldn't express.

"you're right, i should go shower already, but i'll call you again as soon as i can, okay? i love you, toji."

"i love ya too, princess."

it had been about a week since that phone call with toji, with many sleepless nights in between as you shuffle from hotel to hotel along your tour.

during which time, your publisher was contacted about having a news crew interview you which he noted would be good for publicity.

much to your dismay, said interview was taking place the same night as an important fight for toji that you set aside time for previously to watch.

"don't worry, we'll make sure to record it for you!" satoru had said in your last phone call with each other.

"thanks, but it's not the same as getting to watch him live..."

"i don't think toji will mind either way, you have a job to do too, so do your best. i'll make sure your interview gets recorded too."

"i appreciate that, sugu. god i can't wait to be back home."

"aww you miss us that badly? we love you too, roomie~!"

"miss fushiguro, i urge you to focus on getting ready. we need to be there early so the news crew can brief you on what to expect."

"i know i know, but his match is coming up, i don't want to miss this."

you lifted the laptop up, moving to a vanity to prepare your makeup and hair.

"our next fight for the night is toji zenin facing off against..."

your eyes dart back to the screen, "finally!"

a smile stretched across your face when the man walked onto the stage. his opponent wasn't near the size of toji, but plenty built nonetheless as you'd expect.

the first round went by, toji winning it albeit not as fast as he usually ends things. his punches weren't as impactful as you've seen him land before and you could tell it was getting on his nerves.

shiu was at the edge of the arena giving him pep talks and all the while toji continued to scowl.

round two was just beginning when kento interrupted, "miss fushiguro, it's time to leave."

"do we have to? toji's fight is finally here..."

"we'll be late if we don't leave now, miss fushiguro. i understand this is important to you but you can't forget your own priorities."

"i know i know," the smile faded from your face, standing up from the vanity and giving one last look to the fighter before closing the screen.

on toji's end, the fight was reaching its halfway mark, the opponent giving the troubled man a bit more of an issue than he normally would allow.

the combination of sleep exhaustion and intrusive thoughts doesn't bode well for anyone, especially not someone with a history like toji. his movements were more sloppy, he let his foe hit him more than he should have.

the round ended in favor of the opposing side, toji retreating to his corner in anger.

"toji, what's wrong with you, man? you'd never let someone walk all over you like this any other day," shiu commented, handing the fighter a towel.

"shut the hell up," he hissed, yanking it from the man.

"don't take it out on me, i'm not the one in the arena."

toji grunted, rolling his shoulders a few times before getting up. his eyes wandered to the crowd, longing to see you sitting there at the edge of your seat cheering him on.

by the third and final round, he was done playing around. the timer started and he hurled himself at his opponent. shiu needing to yell from time to time to remind toji of where he is and rightfully so.

if this fight was taking place in the underground arena, his opponent would've been turned into a ragdoll by now, a sandbag for toji to express his frustrations. but above ground? that's asking for some severe consequences.

the crowd was a mix of silence, gasping, and finally cheers at toji's comeback. his opponent quickly folding under his sheer strength as toji's secured victory.

he gave hardly any looks to the fans on his way out, eyes cold and distant marching to his dressing room while his bloody knuckles dripped on the floor.

once inside, he sunk into the couch and grabbed his phone from the coffee table in front of him.

y/n fushiguro good luck with your fight!! i'm sure though you won't need it <3 you won't believe it though, i'm going to be on the news tonight! it's really last minute but i'm so excited. it starts at about 6:40 later! sent: 2:47pm

toji glanced at the time on his phone, 6:55pm. thankfully the room had a small TV on the wall, so he flipped channels praying he didn't miss your appearance.

"so y/n, did you plan for your characters to get into a relationship from the start?" the reporter asked.

the sight of you and the sound of your voice felt like the first drop of water after a week in the desert.

"i honestly did not! i had planned for them to be enemies always getting in the way of each other's bounties, but then my publisher came up with the idea of turning it into a romance and well, you see how that ended up."

the reporter laughed, "i think i speak for others but the way you wrote their relationship and especially the love they share, it's unique and quite real. was there someone who inspired or played into the experiences you write? maybe someone in your own life who plays the part of the love interest?"

that was the turning point in the interview. anyone with a sense could see the way your face softened and how your smile stopped being one for the people watching TV but instead one true expression of love meant for one person only.

toji watched you brush a few stray hairs behind your ears as you normally do when nervous or flushed, the corner of his own lips raising upwards subconciously.

"w-well it wasn't immediately i had someone in mind when i was writing the first book, but that changed once i met my boyfriend."

"is he here tonight? we'd love to see him up on stage!"

"i wish he was, but he had an important match today for his career," your eyes turned to the camera directly, waving your arm, "if you're watching this, i love you, toji!"

the remote fell out of toji's hand onto the floor, his face awestruck, "fuck─ you're so beautiful."

"i think that'll do it for this interview, thank you so much for speaking with us, y/n! we're looking forward to reading your new book when it drops."

"god that was exhausting but really exciting!"

"you did good today, miss fushiguro," kento smiled, "keep up the hard work."

"thanks, mr nanami, but i couldn't have done all of this without you."

"think nothing of it, it's my job to help your books succeed."

you placed your things down on a spare desk in the hotel room, walking over to your bed to sit down.

"i need to step out to make a few phone calls and then i'll be back, do you need anything?"

"i'm alright, thanks, mr nanami."

the blond men stepped out of the room, leaving you alone.

now then...

y/n fushiguro i miss you, do you maybe want to video chat? sent: 9:06pm

"you calling up your fans now that you're famous?"

"hi toji," you smiled.

"i missed that pretty face of yours smiling for me."

you laughed, "did you get to see me on the news? now we've both been on TV."

"you think i'd miss the chance to see that?" he teased, leaning his head back against his pillow.

"so how'd your fight end up?"

"what, you weren't watching?" he asked with a sarcastic tone.

"i was trying to, but i didn't get to see it all... only got to watch the first round before i had to leave."

"cheer up, princess. you know i'm only teasin' ya," he coos, "it wasn't a good fight anyways."

his sweet words and husky tone started making you feel warm, your hand beginning to move in its own down your side.

"you still won though, right? i wish i could've seen it."

he smirked, "of course i did, would've been more of a show if i had you on the sidelines cheering."

your fingers crept under the hem of your panties, running down your already moist folds.

"i wish i could've been there, mhm, or at least have you here on tour with me."

one of the man's eyebrows raised up, "oh yeah? i don't think you'd have enough time or energy to be signing books if i were there."

as he spoke, you slipped your fingers up inside you, curling inwards as you dug as deep as you could. your breathing hitched with each action, desperate to find that sweet spot.

toji knew exactly what you were doing, even if you didn't make it obvious, he's had enough time with your body to know the subtle signs you make.

his own hand unfastened his now hardened cock from his boxers, swirling the precum around the tip as he glazed his calloused hands down the shaft.

"my voice making you nice and wet, sweetheart? aren't you needy."

you nodded your head, "i miss you, fuck."

"why don't you show me how much you miss me then," he purred, a devious grin crossing his face.

you propped your phone up against the pillow on the bed and kneeled in front of it. lifting up your skirt over your waist with one hand while the other loosened your breasts from your shirt.

"that's it, sweetheart," his cock beginning to twitch in his hands, "keep going."

one hand was now toying with the bud on your chest. your other glistening with juices for the camera, gently moaning as you watched him with open eyes.

"good girl, do you wanna cum for me? i know you're getting close."

your body started to squirm, eyes fluttering, "ple─please, fuck."

"go on then," his deep voice made your body shiver in heat, "let me hear that pretty voice of yours cum."

"nnghhh─ fuck, t-toji!" you whimpered, finally hitting the right spot. your other hand latched onto the sheets around you, desperate for something anchor against as you arched your back.

"fuck─" he threw his head back, ropes of seed shooting across his abs, "look at how fast you made me cum, pretty girl. if only i could taste you right now."

you heard the click of a keycard at your hotel door and quickly fixed your outfit.

toji clicked his tongue, loosening the grip he had on himself, "tch, fucking cockblocker."

"ah, you're still awake, miss fushiguro," his eyes glanced over to toji's annoyed face on your screen, "i got off the phone with someone from the office and they warned that our flight may be delayed getting home."

any semblance of joy you had immediately sank, "what!? why?"

"there's a blizzard coming and it's expected to halt the airlines until it's safe again to fly."

"when could that be?"

"they're not sure as of right now, hard to know until we see how much it piles up."

"fuckin' hell," toji growled under his breath.

"are we going to cancel the rest of the tour then to leave early?"

kento unfastened his tie, "i understand your desire, but we can't get back the money already spent for our remaining time here. i'm sorry, miss fushiguro."

you turned to toji while sulking, "i'm sorry, toji. guess i won't be back for christmas after all..."

"don't you start crying now, princess. i'll still see you soon, okay?"

with glossy eyes, you nodded with a sniffle, "i really wanted to spend our first christmas together..."

"last i checked, we're still together unless you suddenly called it quits without me," he said in a teasing tone with his usual smirk, earning a laugh from you.

"i'll call you later then, even if it means spending christmas through our phone screens."

"good girl, now you should go and get cleaned off then," he winked.

a flood of heat hit your face making you reach your hand up to your nape, god i hope kento didn't notice anything...

as predicted, the inclement weather delayed all flights in the area. your tour technically ended a few days ago, but you've been stuck in town with kento.

christmas eve arrived and your mood was worse than ever. happy couples everywhere and you just felt so alone.

kento had told you earlier in the day that he had made reservations at a nearby restaurant to help make the most of it, so here you were trudging through the falling snow through town passing by couple after couple.

"let's see, it should be around here... ah─ there it is."

the nice restaurant came into view, as did a familiar shape leaning against the side of some brick.

"huh?" you stopped dead in your tracks, losing your grip on your purse as it dropped onto the snow. "toji?"

the man turned to you, revealing his face completely to you, "y/n," he smiled.

you couldn't hold back from lunging at the man, arms wide as you collided into an embrace. his thick arms wrapping around your body pulling you tightly against him.

tears filled your eyes, "i'm so happy, what are you doing here?"

toji caressed his hand against the back of your head, lips right up against your ear, "i said i'd see ya soon, didn't i?"

"i missed you so much," you sobbed, gripping him with all the strength you have, "i missed you, toji."

he kissed the crown of your head, "i did too, sweetheart"

you pulled back and looked up at him for a moment before planting your lips against his.

toji's eyes widened at the sudden bout of confidence, allowing his tongue to melt against your own.

he held a firm grip on your lower back, keeping you flush against his body with no room to breathe.

the man wanted nothing more than to stay like that forever, one with the one he loved more than anything. he allowed you to be in control, letting you kiss him for however long you wanted to in that moment.

when you did finally pull away, you cupped his cheeks in your hands, "so what are you doing here? i thought all the flights were cancelled?"

"you can thank your boss for that," he smiled, "i wanted to see you, and he helped make it happen. even had me surprise you like this out here instead of busting your door down."

"still feeling jealous?" you teased.

toji used his thumb to wipe the tears from your eyes, "don't need to be. you're mine after all, aren't you?"

"always," you chuckled, leaning back in to hug him once more.

"that's my good girl," he purred, "now let's go get some food, i'm starving."

taking your hand, he led the way inside the restaurant, cringing at kento's selection of one of higher standards but it was paid in advanced so he couldn't really complain.

instead of sitting across from each other, you both chose to sit side by side. you were nestled under his arm with your legs glued to his, gleefully sharing all the fun moments you had on tour.

afterwards, he walked you back to your hotel room, wasting no time in pulling you in the second you walked inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

he held you from behind, leaning into the crook of your neck and delivering a flurry of kisses. toji held your torso tightly against his body, one hand cupping your breast.

"turn around," he ordered, your body responding in turn as he embraced your mouth once more, lips parting to welcome his tongue.

calloused hands rubbed down your back and under your thighs, pulling you up against his body. underneath his pants, his cock stirred, throbbing against your clothed heat.

he walked forward with you in his arms, kneading his fingers in the fat of your ass, sitting himself down at the foot of the bed with you on his lap.

your hips rocked against his waist, "you wanna ride me? show me how much you missed my dick?"

you nodded your head, your mind going dizzy from the pleasure, "so drunk on my cock and i haven't put anything in you yet, baby. let me change that for you."

toji's fingers moved between your thighs from the front, pushing the fabric aside and toying with the entrance to your depths, "gotta get you ready for me."

"ngh~, toji," you broke from the kiss, panting as you bit down on your lip. your nails dug into the nape of his neck as you lifted your chest up into his face.

"want me to play with your tits too, sweetheart? i don't remember you ever being this demanding," he used his teeth to unlatch your shirt and bra, "i want to mark these pretty things all up."

"y-yes please, i need you," you squirmed at his touch, two of his thick digits sliding in between your folds inside of you.

"such a needy cunt," he teased, his mouth becoming more demanding of your chest, "y'er swallowing my fingers right up."

it was as though a vampire had their first taste of blood, he was practically biting at your tits and swirling his tongue over your hardened buds.

"fuck─ toji," you bucked your hips, clenching against his fingers.

"you're close now, aren't you, princess?" he quickly removed his fingers, holding them up to your face.

"toji!" the high that was coming faded before you could reach it, "that was mean," you pouted.

his eyes darkened slightly, "we have plenty of time to enjoy one another tonight, y/n. now open up for me."

you parted your lips for his fingers, brushing your tongue along the calloused digits, tasting the juices that coated them.

"good girl," he coos.

lifting your hands of his shoulders, you grabbed onto his wrist, eyes going absent with lust as you continued to suck, "you're so fucking gorgeous, you know that, right?"

in a second, toji flipped you over with your back against the sheets. one of his knees pressed in between your thighs, arms at either side of you as he kissed from your lips all down your body until he reached your core

he gave a deviant look before spelling sweet nothings with his tongue against your swollen pearl, his fingers reaching back up inside you.

"fuck─ toji, right there!" you squeezed your thighs around his head.

he kissed your clit and pulled away slightly, "better keep your legs relaxed unless you want me to stop."

"n-no no, i'm sorry, don't stop, please!"

"yeah?" his fingers scissored your insides, swiping his tongue up repeatedly, "ya taste so fuckin' good, i can't stop myself."

you buried your hands in the side of his head, grabbing chunks of his long raven hair while he lapped at your core. his digits pumping deeper than you can get with your own.

"i can't hold it, fuck, m' gonna cu-ahh!"

he slowly pulled his fingers out of you while you came down the high, earning a few whimpers from you as you felt empty without him.

"i think you're ready now, want me inside you?"

you couldn't hear his words as you were lost in your own world, but you felt the heat emanating off his thick member when it rested against your folds.

toji leaned up over your face, "you still with me, doll?" his hand caressed your cheek, a few light taps to get your attention back.

"hang in there, princess, you're doing so well."

your eyes wandered down to toji's bottom half. he lifted up your legs over his shoulders and lined his cock up, pressing the tip in slightly.

"i need it, toji," you begged, music to his ears as he smiled ear to ear.

he started slow, enjoying as your back arched immediately at the pressure and your fingers desperate to claw into anything you could reach.

"fuck, you're so tight," his pace quickened, "your cunt forget who it's made for?"

"never, nghh fuck─" you felt his cock kiss your womb, welcoming him as deep as he could get.

"shit, you came with just that?" he pushed through your orgasm, lifting your body up in his hands to better align himself.

toji himself started to lose himself in you, sweat dripping from his locks onto your stomach. his thumb running circles over your clit overstimulating yourself beyond what you could handle.

"toji fuck─ s'good i'm gonna-aaah" his cock quivered against your velvet walls, warmth filling your insides. the man squeezed as tight as he could against your body, his grip sure to leave bruises on your waist later.

"that's my good girl, fuck y'er taking my cock so well," he grunted.

your heart was hammering, barely able to catch your breath before toji started up his thrusts again.

you tried to wrap your legs around his waist, but your strength was faltering. your body trembled and all you could do was scream his name.

"fuck, toji!"

"shit─ baby, what's wrong?" he asked, slowing his pace. the tears filling leaving your eyes more than just ones caused from the ecstasy he was giving you.

"i love you s'much, toji, god fuck─ i'm so happy," you tried to wipe your face but could barely move your own limbs.

the man dropped down over you, your greedy walls clenching his cock. his lips kissed each tear on your face before meeting your lips.

"i love you too, y/n," he cooed, "don't know what i'd do without my perfect girl."

he continued to give you sloppy kisses, biting on your lips until the metallic taste filled his own. your nails got their own taste after tearing his back apart with each thrust against your cervix from the man.

"cum with me, baby, okay? i'm gonna fill you right up, not gonna waste a single drop."

"please, toji, i need you!" you moaned, an orgasm erupting from the two of you.

your mouths parted from each other for those few moments, but in an act of overstimulation you couldn't resist biting down on the flesh of his neck that was within reach.

"fuck, such a pretty mouth," he groaned, "i love my little vampire."

"of course an incubus like you would love it," you smiled, desperately catching your breath.

"is that what i am now?" he smirked, "you dream of me fucking you too?"

"who can say?" you giggled, "even if i do, it doesn't beat the real thing i have right here and in me."

you smiled up at him, and even with your hair in such a messy state and your body covered in sweat and mixed juices, to toji, that was the prettiest he's ever seen you.

his expression softened, the phantom pain from his scar evaporating from the sunlight you casted upon him. toji has never felt more warm and loved than before this very moment.

"i'll go warm up a bath then for us," he pulled himself out of you, pushing his cum back inside with his finger and licking the excess of your combined love off himself.

"w-wait, toji!" you tried to lean up but ultimately fell back against the bed.

toji understood completely, turning back to you and lifting you up into a bridal carry.

"did ya forget already? you know you can never walk when i'm done with you," he teased.

"good thing i have you to carry me around then," you laughed, nestling against his chest.

once the bath was the perfect temperature, the two of you sat down inside together. your back planted against his chest with your head falling back into his neck.

one of toji's hands laid dangerously close to your inner thighs while the other rested on the side of the tub.

"i'm surprised mr nanami hasn't come back yet, it's pretty late."

"and have him ruin the fun again?" you lightly hit the arm in a teasing manner, "nah, he helped me get here so i paid for another room so i could keep you all to myself."

"well that was nice of you, toji, i appreciate that. i feel a bit bad sending him away but i'm so happy you're here with me."

"you have a good boss. smart too since he probably knows you're going to throw some of this in your book anyways." toji leaned his head down and kissed your temple, "can't get enough of me that you went and made me the main character in your story? how sweet of you."

heat rushed to your face, "i can't help that you're a perfect fit for it... i couldn't have done all of this anyways without your help."

before you knew it, toji's fingers already slid down to your exposed heat, clutching it until you quivered.

"the writing is all you, doll, you did this. be proud of yourself, you deserve it." he put his lips right against your ears, holding some of the flesh between his teeth, "i only showed you how to love."

you moaned softly, gripping his thighs for support.

"hey toji?" the man hummed in response, kissing your neck up and down, "merry christmas."

the arm he had resting on the side of the tub wrapped around the front of you, pulling your face flushed against his, "merry christmas, y/n."

☆ Notes: sorry for the delay getting this part out, i had some inspo for other stories as you all can see and wasn't sure what i wanted to do with part 3 just yet but i've got some ideas rolling again. i really want to do some stuff with nanami in the future but god i'm so hyperfixated on toji...

☆ Taglist: @lynnsemptymind

#jjk #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #jjk toji #jjk au #toji x female reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji zenin #toji x reader #toji x you #mma!toji #nanami kento #toji smut #toji fluff

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senditcolton · 4 months

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I'm Still Glad I Met You

Isn't it profound, how such a brief experience can be so special?

summary: Emmaline 'Emma' Evans never expected to be in Paris, searching for inspiration to bring back to her new cafe in New York. She certainly didn't expect to meet Nico, a stranger who doesn't feel like one. But is it just the City of Love twisting her emotions, making her fall for someone who is sure to be temporary? Or is this is the start of something real? song inspo: need by taylor swift word count: 12.5k warnings: hinted intimacy (non-explicit), brief language, resolved angst. written for @wyattjohnston's winter fic exchange to @offside-the-lines with love 🤍❄️🖋️ bonus epilogue!

Au nom de l’équipage d’Air France, nous vous souhaitons une bonne journée.

From the large windows, Emmaline Evans watches the darkened tarmac pass, her plane headed towards the gate. There was still a small part of her that couldn’t believe that she in Paris. It was exciting even though she wouldn’t be able to explore until tomorrow. But she knew to hold her excitement close to her chest, letting her head guide her instead of her heart.

She wasn’t here for a vacation. She was here for work.

While this trip was an early birthday gift from her parents, it was bought with the express purpose of helping her prepare for the opening of the café she and her best friend Morgan had been planning for the past year and was now only 4 months away.

La Crème de la Crème. The best of the best. That was the name and that was the goal; to bring a bit of France back to Greenwich Village and impress all who walked in with Morgan’s coffee talents and Emma’s pastry skills. And what better way to bring Paris to New York than to take inspiration from the City of Love itself?

Pulling her phone out from her purse, she checks the time. 8pm. She scours through her memory until she remembers that New York is six hours behind. Opening her messages, she shoots off a quick text to Morgan.

Landed! I’m going to get to the apartment and then try to sleep. How are things going over there? sent 8:08pm

The rustling of the other passengers pulls Emma’s attention from her phone, realizing that it was time to depart from the plane. She hastily grabs her items, lugging her suitcase from the overhead bin and makes her way through the airport. She utters a quick thank you to the universe for her knowledge of the French language or she would be completely lost. It isn’t until she has successfully grabbed a cab and began the route to the Paris apartment, does she check her messages again.

It's all good here! The rest of the equipment came today so the plan is to finish installing that today. And then all that’s left is the menu, staff, and décor. received 8:16pm

You make it sound so easy. sent 8:37pm

Babe, we’ve been planning this for ages. We are literally in the homestretch! received 8:42pm

I know, it’s just… ugh. I wish you were here with me. This is our dream after all. sent 8:44pm

I do too. But I’m perfectly fine holding down the fort here. You just focus on Paris and all the amazing desserts you’re going to recreate when you come back stateside! (don’t forget to make notes about the coffee as well!) received 8:49pm

I don’t know coffee nearly as well as you but I’ll do my best. Thanks, Morgan. I literally couldn’t do this without you. sent 8:53pm

You know it. received 8:54pm

A small chuckle escapes from Emma’s throat at Morgan’s reply. She sighs, looking out the taxi window, blinking a few times at the sights in front of her. She was so absorbed in the everything she left behind that she wasn’t even paying attention to where she was. She had entered the city limits. She arrived.

Paris. The city seemed to sparkle as she rode down the narrow streets and alleyways. It was early in the evening which meant the streets were crowded with people. Emma had always believed that New York was the city that never slept but she had a feeling that Paris would prove her wrong.

The taxi pulls up to the Airbnb that Emma rented and she takes her luggage, thanking her driver before grabbing the key out of the lockbox and making her way up the narrow staircase. She looks out the small window, looking at the city stretching out in front of her, the lights of the Eiffel Tower shining in the distance.

These next 4 days would be magical. That much she was sure of. What else could this experience be described as?

~*~*Day One*~*~

Emma had been in Paris for less than 16 hours and she had already found so much inspiration. It wasn’t just the cafés that she had stopped at so far, it wasn’t even the assortment of treats she had already eaten; it was the city. She thought the stories she heard about Paris were exaggerations – no city could be that amazing. People surely had to be over-romanticizing the city of romance. But they weren’t.

Here, in this moment, sitting at the Café de la Paix outside the Grand Hotel, watching as the people passed her by, listening as the chatter of multiple languages bouncing off her eardrums… she realized those stories were true. The city itself brought about its own kind of energy, cocooning her in a beautiful dream. The afternoon sun was warm on her face and Emma could only hope to bottle a mere drop of this feeling and pack it in her suitcase to bring back to New York along with her notebook that was already filled with scribbles and notes about the delicacies that she had sampled.

“Je peux me asseoir ici?”

The slightly butchered pronunciation pulls Emma out of her reverie. She looks over to see a man standing with his hand lightly resting on the chair across from her. She shoots him a smile, her hand gesturing towards the seat.

“It’s all yours.”

“Is it that obvious that I don’t speak French?” the stranger asks her as he sits down, a sheepish look on his face.

“I never said that,” Emma laughs, her lighthearted teasing pulling a relaxed smile onto his lips. “But you shouldn’t feel too bad,” she continues. “I’ve noticed that if you have even a hint of an accent, the locals here switch to English, even if you actually know how to speak French.”

“I take it that’s happened to you?”

“The American is hard to mask,” she replies with a slight shake of her head. “I’m Emma.”

“Nico,” the stranger replies, reaching for her outstretched hand to give it a polite shake. “So, American huh?”

“Born and raised. What about you? I don’t mean to pry but I do hear a… unique accent.”

“I’m from Switzerland but I work in America,” Nico explains.

“And you’re in Paris for…” Emma asks, unsure why she is so interested in this – very handsome – stranger’s story. But Nico doesn’t seem to mind her questions as he gives a small shrug and replies with that same gentle smile on his face.

“My job. Some press work,” he says, vague but nonchalant.

“Wow. You’re from Switzerland, you work in America, but your job also takes you to Paris? Quite a world traveler.”

“I’m very lucky,” Nico says before turning the question back to her. “What about you? Are you here for work or pleasure?”

“Work. But maybe a little bit of pleasure?”

“Well, now you’ve intrigued me.”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“I’d still love to hear about it.”

“Really? I don’t want to waste your time,” Emma says, hesitant. However, she can’t deny the small spark of hope that flutters in her chest over the prospect of Nico wanting to talk to her. Who wouldn’t deny the attention of an attractive and kind stranger?

“I have nothing planned for the rest of the day,” Nico assures her. “Plus, you’re one of the few people who has been welcoming to me, outside of the people from my… company.”

“Are the Parisian’s living up to the ‘stuck up French’ stereotype?” she laughs.

“Unfortunately for them, they are,” Nico replies with a laugh of his own. “But I guess it is pretty fortunate for me.”

“Really? Why is that?”

“Because then I wouldn’t have run into you.”

Emma feels her cheeks flush as his casual flattery, her head ducking down in shyness. When she looks up, she can see the grin on Nico’s face – as if he enjoyed making her flustered – and Emma is struck with the strange juxtaposition of wanting to playfully wipe that smirk away but also wanting to make sure it stayed just so she could see it more.

“Well, if I’m going to tell you my life story, I’m going to need more coffee,” she finally replies, before waving over the waitress.

The day ends up being a waste for Emma – well, at least in the work sense. She doesn’t leave Café de la Paix until late, sun hanging low in the sky; not nearly enough time left in the day to hit all of the cafés, boulangeries, and patisseries that she planned on visiting. But she finds that she doesn’t care. Because all those ‘wasted’ hours were spent talking to Nico.

He was funny and sweet and charming and drop dead gorgeous. Talking to him felt so natural, like they had known each other for ages even though they just met that day. The entire experience of him sitting across from her in a Paris café, listening to her stories, telling her stories of his own, and constantly shooting her that beautiful dimpled smile… it felt like something out of a dream.

The cynical part of her psyche wanted to shake her; he was a stranger and she was caught up in the romance of Paris. That was all. But the hopeless romantic side of her wanted to stay in this cotton-candy colored haze for as long as she could.

Which is why, now, as she sits in her rental apartment, her notebook splayed open in front of her, she isn’t brainstorming a menu or planning the ingredient list for the café or even scrolling through Pinterest for interior design inspiration.

Instead, her eyes are tracing the scrawl of numbers that Nico wrote in the top right-hand corner.

A number that was written as a request for him to join her on her exploration of Paris.

And – after she banishes that negative voice into the corner of her mind – Emma enters the number into her messages, texting him an invitation to meet her at Du Pain et des Idees on 34 Rue Yves Toudic.

She falls asleep to the knowledge of Nico’s reply.

See you then. received 9:18pm

~*~*Day Two*~*~

This was absolutely ridiculous.

That was all that Emma could think as she closes the door to her rented Parisian apartment.

Granted, a lot of things about this situation were ridiculous. The fact that she was in Paris. The fact that she was there to help open her dream café. The fact that everything she ate tasted better than she could ever imagine.

But the most ridiculous part of all? Nico.

The man that she had only met yesterday and yet… there was something about him. His gentle eyes, his soft smile, the dimples in his cheeks.

He was at the boulangerie when she arrived, a coffee in hand and an Escargot a la Pistache for her. Another thing to add into the ridiculous column – that pastry was the reason that particular store was on her checklist.

And then the day that followed… even more unbelievable. Walking down the Parisian streets with Nico by her side, taking multiple pit-stops into cafés and patisseries and boulangeries, talking about everything but also nothing at all. Nico stayed by her side into the late afternoon, until his job called him away.

There was a constant battle in her mind about why this was happening.

The hopeless romantic was telling her that this was fate; she was supposed to meet Nico here in Paris and they were supposed to experience this moment in time together. That there was a reason, some grand universal scheme, that out of all the tables he could’ve chosen to sit at in Café de la Paix, he chose hers.

The cynic, however, was telling her this was nothing. He chose that table because it was open. He accompanied her today because it came with the promise of delicious French cuisine. And sure, maybe he liked the way she looked. Perhaps that was the reason he stuck around; he was a young handsome man in a foreign country who was simply looking for a good time.

But if that was all he wanted, why choose her? He could easily pick up any beautiful French woman at any bar or club, spend the night with her and then forget her name come morning. Why spend an entire with her, seeming perfectly happy keeping her company, even if that company included her ranting to him about the details of pastry and desserts, something he admitted he knew nothing about?

That unknowable ‘why?’ was haunting Emma. Was she being paranoid? Or was she being careful? Or was she just overthinking about something and someone that was temporary?

In three days’ time, she would be on a plane flying back to New York and whatever she had shared with Nico would be over. She would never see him again. That wasn’t something that her emotions were lying to her about. That wasn’t something refutable. She would never see Nico again. Because that is what this was: temporary.

The thing is… it didn’t feel temporary.

If this was fate or destiny or whatever, it didn’t feel like Nico was supposed to come into her life for a few days and then leave without another word exchanged between them. It felt more intentional.

But, once again, perhaps her emotions were twisting this reality into the fairytale that she so desperately wanted her life to be.

Emma is startled out of her spiraling thoughts by the shrill sound of her phone ringing. After rummaging through her bag, she grasps her cell and is surprised to see Morgan’s number flashing on her screen.

The spike of fear that rushes through her clears her head faster than even the strongest cup of coffee. There was absolutely no reason for Morgan to be calling unless it was an emergency; money troubles, delivery issues, hell it could even be something worse like mold or an electrical fire. Emma quickly accepts the call and lifts her cell to her ear, mentally preparing herself.

“Girl, you better tell me what the hell is going on with you,” Morgan’s voice echoes through the line, clear as day even with the white noise of New York in the background.

“What?” Emma asks, taken aback by Morgan’s unexpected words.

“Nuh-uh, you don’t get to avoid this,” Morgan quips, confusing Emma even further.

“Morgan, I really don’t know what you are talking about,” Emma sighs.

“The pictures? The angles? That love-struck look on your face in every single one of them?”

“What are you talking about?” Emma repeats.

“Babe, come on. I’ve known you for years now. You think I don’t know what it looks like when you’ve tripped head over heels for someone?”

Finally, the fog lifts from Emma’s brain.

“You’re talking about the pictures I’ve texted to you,” she sighs, collapsing onto the couch. In an effort to keep Morgan updated, she had asked Nico to occasionally take her picture – across from café tables or in front of other classic Parisian sights, all which she sent to Morgan with a quick message or an even faster emoji.

“What else would I be talking about?” Morgan says, the exasperated tone that Emma had grown to love hitting her eardrums.

“I thought you were calling me because there was some type of emergency.”

“This is a freaking emergency!” Morgan shouts, causing a laugh to fall from Emma, one which is ignored as Morgan barrels on. “My best friend has been struck by Cupid’s arrow in the City of Love!”

“I have not.”

“Don’t deny it. Now, spill. Who is the mysterious French gentleman?”

“He’s actually Swiss,” Emma retorts, knowing that Nico’s nationality was the least important reason Morgan was calling. A thought that is practically confirmed by Morgan’s next words.

“What?”

“Nothing. His name is Nico. He’s in Paris for work. I met him at Café de la Paix yesterday.”

“Really? That’s it? That’s all I get? The CliffsNotes version?”

“Well, to be honest, that’s all I really know. I mean, we’ve talked about family and childhood and general get-to-know each other things – food, movies, all that – but that’s it,” Emma explains, the words feeling stupid as they come out of her mouth.

When talking to Nico, she didn’t mind that they kept things surface level. She knew the reason for it. It was because of that word that continued to plague her – temporary. No point getting into the ‘deep stuff’ when all this would be a distant memory soon.

“Is he handsome?” Morgan’s voice sounds again, her focus on what she considered ‘important’ forcing a laugh from Emma’s lips.

“Drop dead gorgeous,” Emma sighs, Nico’s eyes and dimples and smile dancing through her mind.

“Have you slept with him yet?”

“Morgan!”

“What?” Morgan exclaims, her own laugh seeping into her words. “I feel like it’s a very relevant question: have you slept with the drop-dead gorgeous man you met yesterday, who is choosing to spend a day of his vacation with you?”

“I told you, he’s here for work. And we didn’t spend the entire day together.”

“Not important. Have you slept with him?”

“No, I haven’t,” Emma replies, the smile clear in her words.

“Bitch, why not?” Morgan shrieks, causing Emma to laugh once again.

“Because. Besides, you should know I don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, I know, not since you got out of school. But come on! First off, I take it he’s not a pretentious wanna-be pastry chef, right?”

“He’s not.”

“Alright. Secondly, you’re never going to see him again so what’s the harm?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Emma sighs as she sinks deeper into the couch cushions, the joy dropping from her voice at yet another reminder of this being temporary.

“Woah, okay,” Morgan says, her own voice softening at the sadness broadcasted in Emma’s. “Something else is going on here.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Clearly, it’s not considering how upset you sound. Come on, it’s just me. Your best friend in the whole wide world who may tease you a bit but would never actually judge you.”

Emma takes a deep breath, looking around her apartment, trying to get her thoughts in order. Her eyes move to the window where she can still see the shape of the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

“It’s just…” she begins, hesitating, worried that the words will sound ridiculous. But she relaxes, remembering that it’s just Morgan. “I’ve never felt like this before. Nico, he’s… he’s so sweet and so kind. I mean, like you said, he’s spending his free time to hang out with me. Like, that must mean something right? I mean, if he wanted a piece of ass he could find one easily.”

“Not one as hot as yours,” Morgan interjects but Emma pays no mind to her words.

“It seems like he cares about me as more than just a potential hookup. And when I’m with him… it’s easy, like we’ve known each other for ages. Part of me wants to say that all these emotions are fake because – y’know – it’s the ‘City of Love’ and Paris just making me think this is more than it is but… I feel like I could fall in love with him.”

Emma can hear Morgan’s intake of breath, a tell-tale sign that she opened her mouth to speak but Emma cut her off before she could utter a syllable.

“I know that’s stupid to say about a man I met less than 36 hours ago. Plus, like you said, we’re never going to see each other again. His job apparently takes him all around the world so the chances of running into him after this are slim to none. But since I like him this much – in a way that is beyond casual – I’m worried that if I sleep with him or hell even kiss him, it will just make it harder to get over him. Which, again, is silly that I’m worried about getting over someone that I will might spend a maximum of four days with. Like – it’s just – I don’t know.”

Emma heaves another sigh, her hand moving to run through her dark hair before a half-hearted chuckle escapes her.

“This is why I don’t do casual.”

There is a small pause as Morgan takes in all of Emma’s words, the only sound filtering through the phone being the ambient noise of both of their respective cities. Emma finally hears a sigh from the other line before Morgan’s voice comes through.

“Listen, you know I’m not much for soulmates and true love and all of that. But I think you should just embrace it, whatever it is that you are feeling.”

This time, it is Emma who is about to voice a retort and Morgan who stops her before she can.

“Yeah, you’ll probably never see him again. Yeah, this is all temporary. But isn’t that even more reason to dive in headfirst while you can? Better to live a life of mistakes than a life of regret.”

Emma lets Morgan’s final statement sink in, her brain moving a mile a minute. She was right: what was there to lose? The question whirls around Emma’s head, the answer to which doesn’t instantly appear. The only thing that Emma could think to utter was another sigh.

“You know, sometimes you give really good advice.”

“It does tend to happen from time to time, thank you for noticing,” Morgan laughs. “And hey, regardless of what you decide over there in Paris, maybe this whirlwind romance will give you even more inspiration for the café!”

“And sometimes you give advice like that,” Emma jokes, the exasperation in the tone obvious.

“Eh, you win some, you lose some. I’ll let you get some dinner and sleep. Keep me updated – this time on everything not just the food, please and thank you.”

“Will do. Bye Morgan.”

Morgan replies with a quick goodbye before the call ends, leaving Emma alone with her thoughts once more. The hours pass and after ordering some takeout, Emma sits down at her small kitchen table. While she eats, Emma flips open to the back page of her notebook, writing down all the emotions and questions swirling around in her head, trying find some logical solution to her current predicament.

She’s in the middle of making a pros and cons list when her phone screen lights up with a message. Not thinking much of it, she doesn’t bother looking at the preview before unlocking her phone, ready to read another quip from Morgan. She is halted in her movements when she sees Nico’s name on the screen.

Hey. I had a lot of fun hanging out with you today. I was wondering if you wanted to do it again tomorrow? I have the evening off and would love to take in some Parisian nightlife. received 7:58pm

Emma’s eyes dance over his words before jumping back to her own looped handwriting on the pages of her notebook, trying to add this message into the tangle of possibilities. She is about to type up an excuse about why she can’t before a familiar voice echoes through her mind.

Better to live a life of mistakes than a life of regret. What’s the worst that could happen?

Yes, it could be a huge mistake letting Nico get any closer, letting him mess with her emotions any more than he already has. But maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be. And as Emma chews over those two possibilities, another question enters her mind.

Which would hurt more? Getting over Nico or never giving him a chance?

Emma looks back to her phone, the answer obvious to her now. She deletes the previously half written message before typing up a new response.

What did you have in mind? sent 8:06pm

Anything’s good for me. Just as long as you’re there. received 8:10pm

~*~*Day Three*~*~

Emma thought that she would get used to this feeling; the feeling of existing in a dream. It seemed to happen every hour she spent with Nico by her side. And now, the evening air warm as the two of them sit outside of Carette, the sweet taste of macarons in dancing across their tastebuds with the Eiffel Tower shining directly across the Seine… it was something out of a romance novel.

Emma glances across the small table towards Nico, wondering if he felt the same. He catches her stare and when that beautiful smile appears on his face, the butterflies erupt in her stomach. No one else had been able to illicit that reaction from her with something as simple a smile.

“Anything you would like to do next?” Nico asks, wiping the remnants of his dessert on the small paper napkins.

“Not really. I – well, we’ve – hit most of the cafés and stores on my list so I don’t have really anywhere I need to be,” Emma explains. Nico nods, acknowledging her words with a small hum. “I might just head back to my apartment. It is getting kind of late.”

“Need any company?”

His words catch Emma’s attention, the potential entendre clear within them. Emma shoots him a questioning look and it seems that her expression makes Nico realize how it must have sounded.

“I mean, not like that, I, um – what I was trying to say was would you like me to walk you home – keep you company on the way to your place,” he stumbles over his words and in the streetlights, Emma can see his cheeks turning a rosy pink. She assuages his fear with a soft laugh.

“I’d like that.”

“Good. Okay,” Nico sighs, his hands running through his hair. He smiles again, one that Emma returns, before he lifts himself from his chair, holding his hand out to Emma. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Emma says, placing her hand in his as he helps her from her seat. Emma is about ready release her grasp when she feels his grip slightly tighten, an action that brings another questioning look on her face.

“Is this alright?” Nico asks, his voice soft.

The butterflies in her stomach flip into overdrive at his gentle request. Although she had agreed to this – Date? Meeting? Rendezvous? Whatever. – with Nico, a part of her was still hesitant to make a more daring move. To dive head first as Morgan said. Vulnerability had never been much of a strong suit for her.

But considering that Nico was looking at her like she hung the stars, that sweet earnest expression on his face, she realized that she didn’t care if her heart would be broken by the end of this trip. Because whatever she shared with Nico… it was magical.

Why not keep the magic for as long as she could?

The smallest of smiles tugs at the corner of Emma’s lips as she adjusts her hold around Nico’s hand, weaving her fingers through his.

“It’s perfect,” she whispers, her voice wavering a bit; a waver that Nico hears but silences with a small squeeze of her hand and that bright dimpled smile.

The two of them leave the small café, walking hand in hand across the square, through the Trocadero Gardens to the Pont d’Iena bridge, the Eiffel Tower standing tall in front of them. The water of the Siene is a soft soundtrack below them and Emma finds herself caught up in the beauty of Paris.

Part of her thought that the novelty of the city would wear off eventually. But it seemed that Paris revealed something else wonderful to her every second she walked down its paved streets. As her and Nico walk underneath the sprawling base of the Eiffel Tower, Emma’s eyes trace the steelwork; its gentle arcs, its cross-work patterns, the diamond in the center that she knew lifted up and up, the lights hung on every intricate weld. This vacation was one of the best things that ever happened to her, that much she was sure of.

And it was made even sweeter with the presence of the man by her side, still holding her hand.

She looks over towards Nico, his eyes connecting to hers, a smile appearing on both of their faces. She lets him lead her away from the tower, down Champ de Mars.

Emma had previously thought that the city was manipulating her emotions, getting her hopes up over someone who didn’t feel the same. Now, she thought that perhaps the city brought Nico to her for a reason. That the city wasn’t scheming to break her heart… it was planning to open it and let Nico – with his gentle eyes and soft smile and adorable dimples – change her for the better.

Her daydreams are interrupted by a chorus of ‘oohs’ falling from the mouths of other tourists around her and Nico. Emma looks and sees a few people with their camera’s aimed behind them and when she turns, her jaw drops.

There in the background, the Eiffel Tower stands, it’s thousands of lights now flashing, making the entire structure look as if it was covered in glitter.

“I haven’t been able to catch the light show since I got here,” Emma whispers, partly to herself but her words also land on Nico’s eardrums. “I always forgot when it started.”

The two of them stand there, taking in the sparkling spire before Nico’s voice breaks the brief silence.

“Do you want a picture?”

“Could you? That be amazing,” Emma says, reaching into her purse before she stops. “Oh, right. My phone died.”

“I can use mine,” Nico replies without any hesitation, reaching into the pocket of his jeans.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he says, phone now in hand.

Nico starts to take a step back, his hand slipping from Emma’s grasp. But before he can fully let go, her fingers tighten around his. The action takes Nico by surprise, his eyes jumping to their intertwined hands before looking back to Emma.

“Take one with me?” she asks, her own voice soft, the question seeming to hold more weight than it should. Emma watches as a flicker of hesitation passes across Nico’s face, the uncertainty making her anxiety jump. But Nico once again silences her fear, his expression morphing back into that smile that made her heart skip in the best way before he gently nods his head, stepping back towards her.

Nico turns their bodies so the Eiffel Tower is behind them before holding out his phone. Emma takes a small breath before she moves, slotting her body next to his, her free hand lifting to rest on his chest. Every movement is tentative, unsure of how much Nico will allow. But when Nico drops her hand to wrap his arm around her body, pulling her closer, Emma relaxes. Her body curls into Nico’s, head resting on his shoulder as Nico angles the camera to capture the shimmering tower in the background.

Nico’s thumb presses the shutter button a few times before moving the phone closer to them as his hands navigate from the camera to the photos. Emma looks over the images, the smile never leaving her face. Each picture is beautiful; the two of them looking incredibly happy, the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance. She turns her attention away from Nico’s phone, back towards him. But when their eyes connect, her breath catches in her throat.

The look on Nico’s face is one that Emma has seen a thousand times before, but only in movies and television shows. A look that had never once been directed towards her. A look of utmost gentleness, the yearning in Nico’s irises gleaming with the same intensity as the light show still happening behind them.

Nico’s head dips closer towards Emma’s upturned face and Emma finds her own body is stretching up to meet him. They pause, bare inches in between them and Emma can feel the gentle brush of Nico’s breath fanning across her cheeks.

Another moment of hesitation, the air thick with indecision, waiting for someone to make the final move.

In the end, it turns out to be Nico that leans in, closing the gap between them and capturing Emma’s lips in a gentle kiss. The press of him against her surprises Emma – not because she wasn’t expecting it, not because she didn’t want it, but because she couldn’t quite believe it was really happening.

The touch of him, the taste of him… it felt too good to be true.

But when she feels Nico start to pull away, the shock subsides and the hunger takes over. Her hands blindly lift to burrow into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, dragging him back into her as she reciprocates the kiss.

This time, it is Nico that is taken aback by her intensity but it is brief – a minuscule surprise – until he matching her passion, his own hands tightening around her waist, pulling her body impossibly closer to her. The kisses deepen, the two of them enveloped in the desire that had been steadily building for the past two days.

Eventually, they fall away from each other, dazed from the kisses shared. Emma glances up at Nico, the smile on her lips mirrored on his.

“Wow,” he whispers, his hand lifting to delicately brush his fingers across Emma’s cheekbones, causing a light laugh to escape her.

They stand there for a moment, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Emma’s thoughts spin in her mind; questions about what this means and if this changes anything. But eventually, one voice takes over.

Embrace it, Emma.

She wasn’t sure if that voice was that of her best friend or of Paris or her own, but it didn’t matter who spoke. All that mattered was that she listened.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be tomorrow morning?” Emma asks, the words light with the crooked grin that twisted itself onto her lips. The smirk is quickly matched by Nico, this time the double entendre being anything but unintentional.

“I don’t. Why do you ask?” he says, his own voice teasing.

“Oh, there’s just this café right next door to my apartment that I think you might enjoy,” Emma nonchalantly replies, matching his taunt.

“Planning another brunch?”

“It opens pretty early. And people always say that first customers get the freshest food.”

“Breakfast then,” Nico says, his agreement to her anything but subtle offer painted clearly on his face.

“Perfect,” Emma replies.

Nico leans forward, kissing Emma once more and if there was any question left in either of their minds, it was erased by the need coursing through their bodies. Nico pulls away, his arms falling from Emma’s frame – albeit reluctantly. He takes a single step back before offering his hand once again, one that is immediately accepted by Emma. Their fingers intertwine as Emma takes her place by Nico’s side. He looks down at her, his eyes bright.

“Lead the way.”

~*~*Day Four*~*~

The gentle morning sun rouses Emma from her slumber. The plush sheets brush against her bare skin, the warmth trapped within them comforting her, lulling her back into her dream. Or, more accurately, the dream of last night.

The brush of Nico’s hands against her skin, the strength of his hold on her hips, the feeling of his lips tracing her silhouette, the softness of his hair in between her fingers, his strong arms wrapped around her as they both fell asleep.

Arms that were no longer holding her.

Her brain slowly registers the emptiness surrounding her as she blindly reaches behind, hoping that her palm would land on the solid form of Nico. But when her hand lands on the softness of the sheets and solidness of the mattress, Emma’s eyes open.

She lifts her body upright, muscles protesting, still sore from last night’s activities. Her gaze dances around the studio apartment, finding it completely empty; only the fabric of her own clothes scattered across the floor.

Emma’s heart drops, the critical voice that had been kept dormant coming back in full force, assuming the worst.

He got what he wanted. He coerced himself into your bed and you were foolish enough to let him. And now that he accomplished what he set out to do, there was no reason for him to stick around.

The soft chime of the doorbell echoes around the apartment, cutting of the voice before it had a chance to berate her further. Emma sighs, lifting herself off the bed and grabbing the robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door She throws it on before walking down the stairwell towards the entrance door.

She isn’t concerned about who is waiting on the street. It was most likely a delivery person who mistook her door for the side entrance to one of the stores next to her. But when she swings the wooden door open, the French poised on her lips, she is silenced by the sight of Nico standing on the other side of the threshold, a bag hanging from his arm and two cups of coffee in his hand.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to take your keys and make you think you lost them or something,” he explains, the sheepish look gracing his features. Emma stares at him for a moment, her thoughts rearranging themselves at the realization that she was wrong and he didn’t simply abandon her.

“It’s alright,” she says, stepping to the side. Nico crosses through the doorway as Emma closes the door behind him. He lets her climb back up the stairs first before they both re-enter the apartment.

Nico breezes over to the small table in the kitchen, leaving Emma still standing bewildered near the entrance. She watches as he sets down the two coffee cups before fishing into the brown paper bag and removing a pair of eclairs.

“I probably should’ve waited for you because my French is terrible. Thankfully, the workers remembered you so I trust that they got your order right,” Nico explains, shooting a smile her way. “You must really like that place if they know your name after only three days.”

“Wild & The Moon has great food. I think I’ve stopped there every morning since arriving,” she says, walking towards him and taking a seat in one of the chairs. Nico settles into the opposite seat, that soft smile on his face.

“Well, I’m not going to be one to disagree with a pastry chef,” he laughs, his cheery demeanor breaking through the thin wall that Emma had hastily created around her heart when she woke up to find him missing. She returns his grin, although it is slightly half-hearted. She can see her hesitance register on Nico’s face but Emma doesn’t address it. Instead, she grabs the coffee he placed in front of her, taking a small sip.

“Is everything alright?” he asks.

“It’s perfect. Exactly what I always order,” Emma replies with a small shrug.

“That’s good to hear but it’s not exactly what I was asking.”

Emma looks back up at him, his eyes trained on her face. His emotions were painted so clearly onto his features; concern, confusion, and an inkling of fear. Emma sighs again, shaking her head slightly.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“It’s bothering you so it isn’t nothing,” Nico shoots back, the earnestness in his statement startling Emma. Nico hesitates before reaching his hand out, brushing his fingers against hers before intertwining their grip. “Tell me, please.”

Emma takes a breath, the words sticking in her throat, unsure whether to tell him the truth or to brush off his worry again. But she decides to embrace it – every emotion, the good and the bad.

“I thought you left me,” she whispers, looking back up at him. “Took off after I fell asleep because this – whatever this is – is casual. And that’s what happens with casual.”

Emma immediately regrets the words when she sees Nico’s face fall.

“Is that what you think about me?”

“It’s what my worst intentions thought,” Emma answers honestly. “I’m glad I was proven wrong though,” she continues, a hopeful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. One that Nico blissfully returns.

“Last night…” he begins, pausing to deliberate his words. “Last night was amazing. Really. But I want you to know that I loved hanging out with you before that. I don’t want you to think it was all a ruse to get in your pants.”

Emma wants to tell him that she didn’t think that but it would be a lie so she just keeps her mouth closed, listening intently to Nico instead.

“I really like hanging out with you,” he concludes, looking back at her.

“I do too,” Emma responds with a smile.

She doesn’t tell him that she thinks she’s falling for him, or at least could see herself falling for him. Because, while this connection may be pure and genuine, that didn’t erase the fact that this wasn’t going to last. She was leaving tomorrow, back to New York. He would leave soon – back to wherever it was that his job took him next.

Instead, they sit there in silence, eating their food and sipping their coffee. It is a silence filled with a sense of comfort but an overlay of sadness as well. This was likely it for them.

“Today is your last day in Paris, right?” Nico asks, breaking the silence by voicing the unavoidable truth.

“Yeah. My flight is tomorrow at 9am.”

“Anything you want to do for your last day?”

“Still want to hear me rant about French pastry?”

“I have to admit, it is pretty entertaining,” Nico laughs, that jovial sparkle in his eyes. “And I was serious; I like hanging out with you. I don’t have anywhere I need to be so why not spend the day with you?”

The butterflies start up again; both at Nico’s sweet words but also at the heated way that he is looking at her from across the table, his eyes dancing over her frame. His gaze makes Emma suddenly aware of the only thing that is separating her bare skin from his sight is the fabric of her robe. She smirks, the desire sparking again as she lifts herself up from the table.

“Well, I looked at my notes and I actually managed to hit all the shops I wanted to,” Emma muses, taking a few steps towards Nico. “So, maybe we could go to the Louvre.”

“See the Mona Lisa?” Nico asks, his body turning towards her as she walks closer.

“Although I hear that it can get insanely crowded.”

“A little claustrophobic, wouldn’t you say?”

“My hosts – the couple who owns this apartment – left a long list of tourist spots that are close by. Some gardens, some museums…” she continues, her hands toying with the bow holding her robe together.

“That sounds relaxing,” Nico responds with a small hum.

“But I also have to do laundry and pack and I would prefer to not leave that to the last minute.”

“Completely understandable.”

“So, I don’t know really know what we should do today,” Emma sighs, her body settling between Nico’s parted thighs, the tie of her robe now partially undone, the fabric falling off one of her shoulders. His hands reach out and a small shiver rushes through Emma’s body at the sensation of his fingertips grazing the back of her thighs.

“Maybe we should just stay in?” Nico playfully suggests, his hands dancing up and down her bare skin.

“And waste our last day together?” Emma teases. Nico smirks up at her, one hand moving to the front of her body, gently undoing the remaining tie before slipping beneath the fabric, his fingers grazing her hipbone.

“I’m sure we can find something to do to pass the time.”

~*~*A Year and A Half Later*~*~

“Is the Frasier ready to go?” Emma shouts into the kitchen, her voice startling the few customers waiting by the pick-up counter.

“It’s loaded in the back of your car with the macarons and the components for the mille-feuille,” her sous-chef April calls back. “I’m need to grab profiteroles from the racks and we should be good to go.”

“We have all four flavors of macarons?”

“Yes, boss. Everything is accounted for.”

“Good. Be ready to leave in less than ten minutes,” Emma calls, pushing through the swinging kitchen doors, walking behind the café’s main counter. She weaves her way through the two baristas working on orders towards the pastry display. Leaning down, her scan over the pastries, taking inventory of what is left and what need to be replaced. She is almost halfway through her task before a nudge on her shoulder pulls her attention away from the case. Emma glances up to see Morgan’s blue eyes looking at her from underneath her blonde bangs. Wordlessly, she hands Emma a cup filled with a latte.

“You work her too hard,” Morgan says, nodding towards the kitchen, her words referencing April.

“Nothing she’s not used to,” Emma says, taking a drink. “Trust me. The chefs at her school were likely a hundred times more terrifying than me.”

“I don’t know, you’re pretty scary when you’re stressed.”

“Stressed? Who says I’m stressed?” Emma replies, her eyes turning back to the pastry case. “We need to replenish the Pain au Chocolate as soon as possible. It’s one of our best sellers so those five will probably be gone by the end of the morning rush and we don’t want the customers waiting.”

“I’ll get Jacob on that when he’s done taking orders. And you’d be stupid if you weren’t stressed.”

Her words bring Emma’s attention to her best friend and co-owner, her brows downturned into a scowl.

“Don’t give me that look,” Morgan scoffs. “Only a year since our business opened and a professional hockey team has asked us to cater their charity brunch? This is huge. You should be freaking out, it’s okay. You don’t have to hold it together for appearance’s sake, at least not in front of me.”

“You look pretty calm,” Emma retorts.

“I screamed my lungs out in the walk-in fridge when I got in this morning.”

“You should’ve told me. We could have screamed together,” Emma laughed, taking another sip of her coffee as her and Morgan departed from behind the counter, sitting down at one of the small tables in the corner.

“With nothing but the eggs and milk as our witnesses,” Morgan laughed. The two of them look out over the café, the sound of customers talking and the hiss of the milk steamers echoing around the space.

“This is insanity,” Emma sighs.

A year. A single year from the grand opening of their café, La Crème de la Crème, and they were already more successful than they could’ve imagined. And now, in a few minutes, Emma and April would be driving across the Hudson to cater for the New Jersey Devils charity brunch.

“If you meet the person that decided to take a chance on us, give them a giant kiss on the mouth from me,” Morgan says, her testament causing Emma to laugh.

“If you want to kiss a hockey player, you should come yourself.”

“Gotta make sure this place doesn’t burn down. But who knows, maybe you’ll fall madly in love with a hot stranger like you did the last time you went to a different city without me,” Morgan jokes. The reminder causes Emma to roll her eyes.

“Will you ever let that go?”

“Have you?”

The blush that invades Emma’s cheeks is all the answer Morgan needs. Yes, it had been a year since the café opened, another four months on top of that since Emma returned from her ‘research’ trip to Paris. And she would be lying if she said she didn’t find herself still thinking about the man she met there.

Nico. He still occupied a space in her mind, ever since that last kiss they shared as he helped her into the taxi the morning she left. It was hard to let him go even though she knew that it would probably be for the best if she could just forget about him.

“The backstock should last you through the morning. If it doesn’t, Kenneth is coming in at 1. April and I should be back before then but if not, he can run the kitchen until we arrive,” Emma says, finishing off her drink and lifting herself up from the table. “Remember to have Jacob stock the Pain au Chocolate.”

“We’ve got it covered here,” Morgan says, her smile calming Emma’s beating heart. “Just focus on being the coolest pastry chef, impressing all those important people, and bringing in new customers.”

Emma responds with a playful salute before disappearing back into the kitchen. April is waiting for her by the back door, black chefs coat on, the café’s name written in cursive script over her breast. After confirming everything was in the car, they both hop in and start the drive to Newark, New Jersey.

Emma sends a thank you to whatever power there was for making traffic light, the trip not taking nearly as long as Emma had suspected it would. They are soon arriving at the hotel, pulling up to the entrance. After a quick explanation of who they were and why they were there, a few hotel workers come out to assist them as they bring their food into the kitchens.

“I’m going to find the organizer, ask where they want us to set up. Just get everything ready to be assembled and then we will go from there.”

April gives Emma a small nod in acknowledgment, turning her attention to the boxes of food in front of her. Emma leaves her to it, following the signs to the ballroom. She walks through the open doors, finding the room decorated in the red and black – colors that she now knew to be the teams –tables filling the space around a small stage.

On one wall lined with banquet tables, she spies an elegant woman holding a clipboard talking to the hotel staff, who Emma was told were providing the rest of the food. She makes her way over, the conversation hitting her ears, confirming that this was the person she needed to speak to.

Emma stands off to the side, waiting for the discussion to conclude before stepping forward.

“Hello. I’m Emmaline Evans, the co-owner and pastry chef from Crème de la Crème,�� she says, holding out one of her tattooed hands.

“Oh, yes!” the woman says, graciously accepting Emma’s handshake. “I’m so glad you made it. My name’s Nicole, I’m one of the people who helped organize this brunch. Are you all settled, everything good?”

“Yes, my sous-chef is in the kitchen right now getting the plates ready. I just wanted to introduce myself and say thank you for the opportunity. It means a lot for our new business.”

“Of course! Though, I should really introduce you to Jess. She is the one that came in telling us about this amazing café in Greenwich that we just had to get,” Nicole explains, her bubbly personality infectious, making a smile break out on Emma’s face.

“I look forward to meeting her. I’ll probably be out once everything is prepared, introduce myself to some of the other guests and check to make sure everything tastes alright.”

“Perfect! I wouldn’t expect anything else from a savvy business woman, neither will any of the guests. A lot of driven people here,” Nicole explains, before turning to face the banquet tables. “We have the traditional breakfast fare here and your table is over there,” she gestures to a table a short distance away. “We decided to keep the sweets a little separate from the rest.”

“Makes perfect sense,” Emma nods, taking the layout into memory. “Would you like us to delay bringing the food out so there is a space between the main course and the dessert?”

“Is that alright for you? I think that would be best.”

“Absolutely.”

“Amazing. You can bring out the food at, let’s say 11:30? We might still be in the middle of speeches and all that but that could work out because after we’ve wrapped up there, we can direct people to your delicious food.”

“Of course. I’ll go back and get everything ready. We’ll be out at 11:30.”

“Perfect. Thank you again!” Nicole exclaims and Emma is about to extend her hand for another handshake until Nicole sweeps her into a hug instead. Emma embraces it politely before pulling away and disappearing back to the kitchen. On the way, she sees the beginning of the crowd trickling in, her eyes glancing over the guests decked out in expensive dresses and suits.

This was a golden opportunity and she wasn’t going to waste it.

She breezes into the kitchen towards the corner where April had completely set up everything in the few minutes she was gone. Emma explains the timeline and they both set to work; April filling the profiteroles with their whipped cream center and Emma assembling the layers of the mille-feuille. April finishes first and sets about arranging the macarons and profiteroles on the platters provided before moving to cut the Fraiser into slices and placing each piece on their separate plate. Emma finishes assembling the mille-feuilles and glances at the clock.

“Alright, we’ve got a few minutes. Finish plating the Fraiser and bring those out first. I’ll take the macarons and profiteroles and then we can both bring out the mille-feuille.”

“Sounds good. Do you need any help with the platters?”

“No, I should be fine,” Emma says, leaning down to pick up the silver tray the macarons were placed on. “We’ve got the labels for everything, correct.”

“Yes, boss. Do you want me to bring those out first or last.”

“Last. We can arrange the table how we see fit and then label the plates instead of having to shuffle everything around.” Emma is about to leave the kitchen before she turns back to April, the platter resting on her shoulder. “You know you don’t have to call me boss.”

“Force of habit,” April laughs, her brown eyes sparkling as she looks up from the Frasier. “You can stop pretending that you don’t like it.”

“Ha-ha,” Emma utters a sarcastic laugh before leaving. She retraces her path to the ballroom, hearing the echo of an amplified voice guiding her steps.

Emma slips in, the tables now filled with guests, their attention turned to the front stage as she sees Nicole as well as few other beautiful women standing by the podium. She registers parts of their speech; happiness for how the season was going, excitement for what was coming, reminder of the charity they were here for, and of course a call for generosity in donating. Emma makes her way around the perimeter of the room, coming to the assigned banquet table before setting the platter down. She moves back catching the eyes of April walking in with the platter of Fraiser and directs her with a nod of her head.

A few trips later, Emma is standing in front of the table, her eyes gazing over the assortment of the food she was proudest of. It looked beautiful, the whites and golds and reds and pinks and browns of the desserts creating a stunning mosaic, each section labeled in the same elegant cursive that graced her chef’s jacket.

“I’m going to go back, clean up the kitchen and get ready for any food we might have to bring back,” she says, looking to April.

“Don’t you want to stay here? You’re the chef after all,” April asks from the other side of the table.

“I plan on making the rounds a little later, get a little more personal interaction. I have no doubt that you’ll make an excellent first impression of our company without me.”

Emma sees her words register in April’s mind, a smile gracing over her features before it shifts to serious, her body lifting to stand a little taller.

“I won’t disappoint you, boss,” April says, her words serious but punctuated with a small wink, causing Emma to playfully roll her eyes. She doesn’t give another response, departing the ballrooms. She is only a few steps out of the door when she hears the final announcement echo from the speakers.

“Now please enjoy some delicious pastries from Crème de la Crème Café.”

Hearing her company name announced along with the applause that followed – although she knew the cheer wasn’t directed towards her – made her heart leap. Everything was perfect so far; all that was left was for the guests to like the food.

Emma cleans, packing the equipment they brought into her car and assembling a few take-away boxes that she hoped she didn’t have to use. She leaves the kitchen, taking a quick stop in the bathroom to wash her hands and adjust her appearance, making sure not a hair was out of place. She takes a few deep breaths, straightening her jacket before moving back into the ballroom.

She takes in the sight of plates filled with her food on tables, the smiles on peoples faces and it makes her relax. Emma catches sight of April still manning the table, her smile never wavering as she hands out desserts, her lips explaining each delicacy. She catches Emma’s eye, sending her a wink before turning her attention back to the guests. Emma lets out a sigh before she gazes around the ballroom.

“Oh, there she is! Emmaline!” she hears a voice call, locating Nicole sitting at a table waving her hand. Emma smiles, weaving through the crowd until she reaches her.

“Everyone, this is Emmaline Evans. She’s the chef that created all these wonderful treats for us!” Nicole explains and Emma smiles, nodding her head to the other guests sitting there.

“How is everything tasting?”

“Delicious!” one of the gentlemen at the table says. “Why haven’t we heard about your restaurant before?”

“We actually opened a year and a half ago so we’re relatively new.”

“Well, you are sure to get some new customers if your food always tastes this good,” he laughs, extending his hand. “Erik.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Emma says, accepting his handshake.

“I can guarantee that the food is always this good,” another feminine voice sounds from across the table. Emma turns her attention to a brunette smiling at her. “Definitely worth the drive to Greenwich.”

“Oh, right! Emmaline, this is Jess. She’s the one that insisted we book your company,” Nicole explains, the words forcing Emma to extend her hand eagerly, Jess accepting it with grace.

“Thank you for the opportunity. It really means a lot to me and my co-owner Morgan, so thank you for taking a chance on us.”

“I knew it wasn’t going to be that much of a risk. I’ve been forcing Nate to drive me to New York on his days off so I can get your food,” Jess says, nudging the shoulder of the man next to her – who Emma can only assume is Nate. “You deserve way more recognition. And, when I heard about a small woman-owned business, I knew I had to give my support. Kind of what we do.”

The other women at the table laugh in agreement, causing another smile to break out on Emma’s face. She politely stays for a few minutes, answering queries about the food provided, the menu at the café, and other general questions. Slowly, her body registers the weight of someone’s eyes on her from across the ballroom. A lull in the conversation allows her to lift her head and look around.

When her eyes land on the source of the stare, her heartbeat falters in her chest.

It had been over sixteen months since she had last seen him but she swears she could recognize those gentle brown eyes and that flowing chestnut hair anywhere.

A few tables away sat Nico; the man that she met in Paris all that time ago. The man who enchanted her from the moment he sat with her at the café table. The man she never thought she would see again.

He was here.

Emma quickly snaps out of her trance, breaking his gaze and turning her attention back to the guests in front of her with a polite smile. But beneath her composure, her thoughts were as erratic as her heartbeat. She steals another glance back in Nico’s direction, finding him in a conversation with the young man next to him, that familiar dimpled smile on his face.

“Apologies,” Emma says, interrupting the conversation taking place around her. “I should greet the other guest, check in on them.”

“Oh, of course! We’ve kept you long enough,” Nicole speaks.

“You should go talk to out team leadership,” the man next to Nicole says – Jesper, she remembered. Emma watches as he twists in his seat, eyes roving over the room before stopping, his long arm pointing to a table. “Over there.”

The directionality of his gesture has Emma’s heart skipping again, the anxiety only heightened when she follows his point to the table where Nico sat.

“That’s our captain, Nico, and our two assistant captains, Jack and Ondrej, along with their partners and a few others,” Jesper says turning back to Emma, who quickly plasters a gracious expression on her face.

“I will make sure to stop there, thank you,” she says before departing, moving only to the table next to the previous.

She was going to keep her word – she just needed a little time.

Emma introduces herself to multiple guests, answering the same questions, and handing out more business cards than she could count. She navigates the ballroom, slowly making her way over to Nico’s table. She swears that every time she moves closer, she can feel Nico’s eyes landing on her more frequently. She manages to focus on the guests in front of her enough that no one suspects anything is amiss. But she knows that the effort is half-hearted at best. The other part of her brain is twisting itself in knots over the prospect of speaking to Nico again.

She never expected to see him. She certainly didn’t expect to see him at a work event. In the fantasies that she allowed herself to occasionally indulge in, they would always run into each other at a bar or in the park or even on the street. In those daydreams, he was single and the magic from Paris would still be there between them.

But now, Emma is forced to make her brain prepare for the possible reality that she was about to walk into: that he was here with an insanely beautiful woman on his arm and the romance in Paris was exactly what she feared it to be – temporary.

It didn’t make it any better that she would have to reckon all of those heartbreaking truths with a pleasant smile on her face; the shield of professionalism she was forced to maintain that could absolutely not crack.

Emma concludes her previous conversation, taking a deep breath before turning towards the table she had been avoiding all afternoon. She walks up to the edge, glancing around the faces of the guests, trying not to let her eyes linger on one face in particular.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she speaks, calling their attention to her. “I’m one of the owners of Crème de la Crème and I just wanted to check in, see how everything was tasting.”

“It’s fucking fantastic!” the dirty blonde next to Nico exclaims, causing Nico’s head to turn with a glare and a hiss of ‘Jack!’. A blush invades his cheeks before the man – Jack – looks back towards Emma. “Sorry, I mean, it’s really, really good.”

Emma laughs gently at his words before speaking.

“It’s alright. I’m glad to hear you like it that much.”

“It really is delicious,” the stunning blonde woman next to Jack speaks. “Is your store located in Newark?”

“No, we’re actually located in Greenwich Village in New York. But this was an amazing opportunity for our business that we just couldn’t pass up.”

“That’s awesome. Do you normally cater?”

“We’re relatively new to the catering side of food service. We do provide food for smaller parties: birthdays, anniversaries, celebrations like that. This has been out biggest event yet so this was also a test for us, to see if we could handle it.”

“Well, I say you passed with flying colors!” the woman smiles. “Could I have your card? My sister would love this and her birthday is coming up.”

“Of course,” Emma says, her hand dipping into her pocket to retrieve a card.

“Actually, could I have two? I might slip one in this guy’s hockey bag as an anniversary reminder,” she laughs, nudging Jack’s shoulder.

“When have I ever not wooed you?” he laughs.

“I’m not saying you haven’t. This is just a subtle hint about what a few delicious macarons might do.”

Emma nods, grasping the two small slips of paper and extending them to her.

“Could I also have one?” an all too familiar accented voice requests.

Emma turns her attention to Nico, her eyes connecting to his. She doesn’t give a verbal response; just another nod of her head. She hands two cards off to Jack’s partner before turning to Nico, holding a business card out to him as well. Emma suppresses a shiver that threatens to run through her body as Nico’s fingers graze against hers as he takes the paper from her hand.

“Planning on surprising a special lady, as well?” Jack teases. The question is innocent when coming from his mouth but it stops Emma’s heart as she waits for the answer – preparing for the worst.

“If by special lady, you mean my mom when she flies in for the mom’s trip, then yes,” Nico jokes back, his eyes flickering back to Emma. “Besides that, no one else comes to mind.”

Emma lets out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding at Nico’s subtle admission; he wasn’t seeing anyone, at least not seriously. The other women at the table were with his teammates, not him.

“Could I ask where you learned how to cook?” another gentleman at the table asks, his voice turning Emma’s attention to him.

“Of course. I went to The French Pastry School in Chicago, which is one of the only schools that focuses exclusively on pastry creation,” Emma explains, her eyes darting towards Nico as she contemplates her next words. “But I was also blessed with the opportunity to travel to Paris and experience the authentic Parisian cuisine first hand. That trip inspired me in many ways.”

From the corner of her eyes, Emma watches as a smile tugs at Nico’s lips.

“I’ve been to Paris as well. It’s a beautiful city with amazing food.”

“Right, you were there a little over a year ago, with the NHL European press tour,” another guest says, providing answers to questions that Emma didn’t bother asking back then. He told her that he was there for work. That wasn’t a lie. She just didn’t know that this was his job.

“It was an amazing trip,” Nico replies, his eyes darting to Emma, the weight behind his words only noticeable by that recognizable sparkle in his irises.

Emma’s own smile graces her features. Their silent conversation reminded Emma of passing secret notes, communicating in a way that only the two of them could understand. The hope soared in her chest but she pushes it down in an effort not to get caught up in the moment. She excuses herself, sneaking one last quick glance over her shoulder at Nico before making her way over to April.

She forces herself to focus on the moment at hand, taking stock of the remaining food, the event dwindling down. Emma helps April carry the remaining leftovers into the kitchen, instructing her to pack up the food and load it into the car before helping the hotel staff clean the few remaining dirty dishes.

Emma makes her way back into the ballroom, gathering the remaining business cards from their table, as well as the labels before helping the staff pick up the plates scattered on the tables.

She is absentmindedly gathering the plastic plates into a stack, reaching out to grab the last plate at the table. But before she can, it is taken by a strong hand before it is extended to her. Emma lifts her eyes to thank whoever it was in front of her but her voice catches when her eyes connect with Nico again.

“So, Paris, huh?” he asks, the question loaded with a myriad of emotions that Emma couldn’t even begin to place. She takes the plate from his hand with a smile.

“Yeah, it was a really wonderful experience.”

“I bet.”

“Ate a lot of good food, saw some beautiful sights,” she continues, a mischievous smirk appearing on her face, her eyes never leaving Nico’s. “Met this really great guy.”

Emma swears that she can see the sigh escape Nico’s chest – the potential fear leaving him as his body relaxes, his tentative smile shifting to match her grin.

“I was worried you didn’t remember me,” he confesses. Emma’s eyes soften at his admission, her head slightly shaking in disbelief.

“Did you really think I’d forget?” she murmurs, her own words just as much of a confession as Nico’s. She watches his brown eyes shift, the confusion dancing within them.

“At the table…”

“I had to remain professional,” she explains, gently cutting him off. “Talking about a whirlwind romance I had with the team captain in front of potential clients – some of which are his teammates – isn’t really the way to get rehired.”

“Good point,” Nico laughs, the sound echoing around the almost abandoned ballroom, his hand lifting to run through his hair. His chuckle pulls a giggle from Emma’s own lips as she shakes her head again.

Their laughter dwindles until the silence covers them again. Emma can’t seem to tear her eyes away from him and it is clear that Nico feels the same. The two of them stand there, taking in the sight of the other, seemingly convincing themselves that they were really standing in front of each other. That this wasn’t just a fantasy.

“In truth,” Emma says, breaking the fragile silence, “You’re hard to get over. No one I’ve met since Paris has even come close.”

The broad smile that appears on his face makes Emma’s happiness increase, the subtle admission that she was also currently unattached understood by Nico.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” he tells her, the words bringing a small teasing laugh from Emma.

“Didn’t know you missed me that much,” she jokes.

Her words seem to catch Nico off-guard. Her green eyes follow Nico’s movements as he reaches into the interior pocket of his suit jacket, fishing out his phone. His fingers move, tapping on the screen and scrolling until he pauses. A smile tugs at his lips as he stares at whatever was on his phone before he turns the device towards her.

Emma swears her heart skips for the hundredth time that day as she takes in the image on the screen. It’s the picture they took that night in Paris – the night everything changed. Her eyes dance over the screen, looking at the ease in which her body was resting against Nico’s, the way his arm was wrapped around her frame, the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the background.

“You kept it,” she whispers.

“Of course, I did,” Nico responds with just as much tenderness. Her eyes flicker back up to the man in front of her, the look in his eyes an echo of the one from that same night. She watches as he hesitates, seemingly debating the words he was about to say. Whatever doubts he had, they apparently weren’t enough to stop him as he speaks again. “I don’t know if I ever missed anyone as much as I missed you.”

If her heart was beating erratically before, it practically stopped at Nico’s gentle words. The desire, the yearning, the emotions hanging from every syllable hit Emma like a freight train, his need bringing forth her own. A need that she tried – desperately – to get rid of for months because she thought she would never see him again.

But he was here. He was real. And he missed her.

“I missed you too,” she admits, the confession not feeling dangerous or terrifying. Instead, it felt as simple as breathing. It felt as easy as it always did when she was next to him. It felt like Paris.

Emma and Nico look at each other, the truth of their admission floating around them, seemingly enveloping them in that love-struck haze that they existed in months ago. In a different city. In a different country.

“I don’t know if this is way too forward but I’d like to take you on a date. Or, I guess another date. If that’s alright with you?” Nico asks, his words still hesitant. Emma responds with a gentle smile.

“That sounds perfect.”

“I can’t promise that it will be as magical as Paris though,” he laughs.

Emma’s expression falters a little at his words, the fears from Paris returning along with the joy. Their reunion felt enchanting right now but maybe the shock of seeing each other again after all those months was the only thing causing this sensation. Maybe after the moment died, the worry that invaded her mind in Paris would be proven true: that it was just the City of Love that fueled their connection.

Embrace it. All of it.

It is that small voice of bravery and vulnerability that sounds, the declaration echoing in her mind. Emma takes a deep breath, summoning the courage she felt in France and letting it fill her body, letting her heart guide her actions. She reaches out towards Nico, letting her hand creep closer to his, her fingers brushing over his skin.

The energy that surges between them when their fingers intertwine is powerful. Those fireworks sparkle stronger than anything before; stronger than the lights about them, stronger than all the lights on the Eiffel Tower. That electricity has Emma looking up at Nico, seeing the same emotions dancing on his face. That touch was proved a fact that they knew in their hearts to be true but their heads still doubted.

That this – whatever it was, whatever they shared those months ago… it wasn’t temporary. It wasn’t the city. This was real.

“Paris wasn’t the magical part.”

tags: @tkachvkmatthew @m00nlightdelights @cixrosie SIGN UP FOR MY TAGLIST HERE

#nicole writes #the winter fic exchange 2k24 #nico hischier fic #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fluff #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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purinfelix · 6 months

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back home ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

pairing: joão félix x reader (established relationship) summary: after a solo trip away, you're a little worried about how your boyfriend might react to your return warnings: none, angst if you squint hard enough maybe? w/c: 770

a/n: HELLO IM ALIVEE im sorry for being so ia akjdnsa no excuse i'm just lazy ... but in the mean time i did go on a trip with some friends (which is what inspired me to write this lol) and went to my first in person football match !!! anw hope yall take this as my apology for being so inactive <3333

“It’s only two weeks.”

That’s what you told your boyfriend months before you had begun planning your solo trip, knowing he was the type to fret over you and whether you were organised enough. You continued repeating this phrase to him leading up to your departure - you had mumbled it into his hair, whispered it into his ear, and even shouted it across rooms when he raised his protests. Whenever he would think a little too hard about how long it would feel for two people who never seemed to spend more than a couple of hours apart. Even so, you appreciated his worrying over you, taking it as a sign of him caring for you.

But now, two weeks later, as you fidgeted nervously in the backseat of the taxi he had called for you to take home from the airport you found yourself repeating the phrase again, only now to yourself. It felt as though the moment you two had separated, all of Joao’s worrying had found a new home within you, and you had already begun counting down until your reunion. This was only made worse by the fact that it seemed your boyfriend was growing more and more comfortable in his solitude - and ultimately, your absence. It worried you to see this, as much as you could through the frame of your phone screen during each of your nightly facetimes.

Even now as you stood fumbling with the keys to your shared apartment, you couldn’t stop yourself from worrying. What if he had come to enjoy his ‘alone time’, and took it as a sign to distance himself? What if this distancing led to him spending time away from you, or even worse - a breakup? As your mind wandered to the worst-case scenario, you pushed open the door with trembling hands.

A tuft of brown hair peeking out from above the couch cushions let you know your boyfriend was home. Your many bags slipped off your arms and fell to a heap on the floor with a soft thump, the sound alerting Joao.

You braced yourself, ready for a scowling expression or even one that was completely vacant. Ready for him to scoff, stand up and walk out of the room, disinterested at your return. Or for him to begin telling you about how he had already begun moving out, and how maybe this time apart had done you both some good.

“Oh, thank god.”

His voice was soft, fragile almost, as it broke the silence between you two, followed shortly by the padding of his feet as he rushed over to you. His body crashed into yours, sheer force sending you a couple of steps backwards and any worries that plagued your mind far, far away. If it wasn’t for how tightly he was holding you, hands digging into your shoulders, you were sure you would’ve fallen over.

You struggled to muster up more worrying thoughts, overwhelmed by the warmth of his body pressed up against yours, the feeling of his embrace. You let out a deep sigh, not of fatigue or frustration but pure relief, feeling yourself melt into his touch.

“I missed you,” he muttered, face pressed into your hair as if he was afraid letting you go might cause another two weeks apart.

“I missed you too,” you heard yourself admit, words muffled against his chest. But he still understood you, which he made clear by squeezing you even tighter.

It felt like forever before you broke apart, but still not enough as Joao continued to press gentle kisses to your temple, lingering with each one as if trying to show you just how much he had missed you. Finally, he brushed past you to shut the door and pick your several bags off the floor - bags which had required much effort for you to haul around but he managed to pick up with much ease.

“Welcome home,” you can hear the smile in his voice, even though he’s faced away from you as he begins to walk to your shared bedroom. You watch him disappear around a corner, and he begins telling you about how his plans to surprise you at the airport with a bunch of flowers were ruined by training running overtime. You’re still in the doorway, a little dizzy - from jetlag, from a lack of sleep and proper food, from how hard he squeezed you in that hug. Even so, you feel a smile tug at your own lips because even though it was ‘only’ two weeks, you couldn’t be more glad to be back home.

#joao felix #fc barcelona #joao felix x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix fanfic #joao felix fluff #joao felix oneshot #football fanfic #football #oneshot #purinfelix #jet writes ★

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airportexpresstaxi · 2 months

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#airport taxi service #taxi to airport oakland #best taxi service usa #airport express taxi #a1 airport express taxi

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weemssapphic · 8 months

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Lipstick Stains - Pt. 12

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: Larissa takes you to New York City.

words: ~3.2k | ao3 link in title

chapter-specific warnings/content: nsfw - smut (cunnilungus - L receiving)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Larissa drummed her fingers against the steering wheel of her car as she waited for you to come downstairs. Her nerves were rising by the second - she was excited to be going away with you, of course she was, but with everything that had happened last weekend (or rather, with all the stress she knew she was responsible for), she needed this weekend to go perfectly. She wouldn’t accept anything less.

A flurry of movement caught her eye and she turned her head to see you walking towards the car, dragging your suitcase behind you. She could feel her nerves settle a bit at the sight of you, and she stepped out of her car to open the trunk.

“Hi,” you said, a little out of breath - the second your eyes met, your lips curled up into a beaming smile, one that stole the breath out of Larissa’s lungs.

“Hello,” Larissa replied with a grin, lifting your suitcase into the trunk with ease before turning to pull you into a warm, all-encompassing hug. Your arms wound around her waist, holding her tightly, and she could feel even more tension leave her body as the two of you melted together.

“I missed you,” you whispered into her shoulder, nuzzling your face into her coat - Larissa didn’t miss the way you inhaled deeply and it only made her hug you tighter, her heart fluttering.

“I missed you, too,” she whispered into your hair, pressing a light kiss to the crown of your head before reluctantly leaving your embrace to usher you into the car.

The drive to the airport was a short and uneventful one - Larissa kept her hand on your thigh the entire time, drawing lazy circles over your jeans with the pad of her thumb. She could tell you liked it from your soft smile and the lovely pink tinge on your cheeks, but it was just as much for her own benefit - feeling you kept her grounded, kept her breathing steady and her heart rate calm.

Miraculously, the line at the counter to check the luggage was short, and the line for airport security was even shorter. It wasn’t until the two of you were sitting at your gate, waiting for your flight, that Larissa noticed how you’d begun to fidget slightly - crossing and uncrossing your legs, flicking restlessly between apps on your phone, twirling strands of your hair between your fingers.

“Nervous flyer?” Larissa guessed - your cheeks turned scarlet and your gaze shifted to the floor in response.

“I’ll be fine, I just don’t fly often,” you said with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant as you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth. Larissa found the little gesture absolutely adorable - it made her want to scoop you up in her arms and protect you from the world. Your nervous expression made her heart ache and she leaned over to press a lingering kiss to your temple, her hand coming to rest on your lower back.

“It’s only an hour and a half, we’ll be up in the air and landing in New York before you know it.” She modulated her voice carefully, wanting nothing more than to soothe your nerves as you somehow managed to soothe her own. She held your hand as you were called for boarding, not letting go even when you were seated on the plane.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as the plane began to taxi and your hand tightened around Larissa’s in a vice-like grip. Larissa’s hand was starting to ache but it didn’t matter - she would let you crush it a thousand times over if it meant she could provide some semblance of comfort to you, and she squeezed your hand right back.

“Don’t be sorry,” she murmured, feeling her lips pull involuntarily into a soft smile as you shut your eyes and leaned your head back. She leaned in, placing her lips next to your ear. “Just relax. You’re going to be fine.” She felt you squeeze her hand even harder and grinned, placing a chaste kiss to the spot just below your ear, feeling you shiver beneath her lips. “Deep breaths, my darling girl.”

“Are you trying to get me so turned on that I forget about the stupid plane?” you joked, your voice growing breathy as you peeked your eyes open to peer over at Larissa.

“Is it working?” Larissa dropped her voice an octave on purpose and flicked her tongue against your earlobe - you shuddered, and Larissa felt her own arousal grow as she watched you squirm.

“Y-yes.”

A salacious smile crept up Larissa’s face. “Good. I promise I’ll reward you when we’ve arrived at the hotel. We have the entire weekend to ourselves.” Larissa kept her voice calm and collected - she didn’t miss the soft whimper that escaped your throat, or the way you shifted in your seat, and she lifted your hand to her lips to press a tender kiss to your knuckles.

~~~

“Holy shit, Rissa, you can’t be serious!”

Larissa delighted in the loud, unabashed squeal you let out upon entering your hotel room. She’d already watched you carefully and with great amusement in the lobby of the hotel, your jaw dropping to the floor and your eyes wide as Larissa had taken care of getting you checked in. And now, seeing you practically vibrate with excitement as you abandoned your luggage on the floor in favor of rushing over to the windows with a wide grin on your face, Larissa was certain her heart was expanding by the second.

“Do you like it?” she asked, nervous butterflies beating their wings against the walls of her stomach - was it too much? Not enough?

You turned to face her - she was still standing rather awkwardly in the doorway to the room - your eyes wide as saucers and slightly glazed over. “You didn’t just seriously ask me that,” you said with a giggle, your cheeks turning pink. “I love it! But… are you sure? You must have spent a fortune.”

“I’m sure,” Larissa said with a soft smile, remembering to close the door behind herself before carefully setting down her own luggage. She toed off her heels and padded softly over to you, placing her hands on your hips and ducking her head to press a long, lingering kiss to your lips, before spinning you around to face the window.

“You told me you’ve never been to New York City so I wanted to make this special for you,” she murmured, splaying her hands over your belly and pulling you against her. The view outside was stunning - the window gave way to a view of Central Park, all green trees against a blue skyline, and the best part was that the windows were facing the bed.

“It would be special either way, because I’m with you,” you whispered, leaning your head back against Larissa’s chest - she was almost certain you could hear her heart start to pound violently against her ribcage.

“Still…”

You turned suddenly in Larissa’s arms, taking her by surprise.

“You don’t have to impress me, you know.” You raised an eyebrow and Larissa felt her mouth go dry at the intensity of your gaze.

“How about I spoil you instead, then?” she whispered - she’d intended for it to come out confident and seductive, but instead her voice was breathy and nervous. She could curse herself internally for how weak she felt in your presence, if it weren’t for the fact that it was the most comforting feeling she’d ever felt.

The mischievous glint in your eyes when you realized you had the upper hand was undeniable, and your lips curled into a smirk as you leaned up, your mouth inches away from Larissa’s neck and your breath washing over her skin. Larissa shivered and squirmed, a soft giggle escaping her lips.

“What?”

“That… that just tickles a bit,” Larissa said with a smile, attempting to step back - you stopped her with a hand on her waist, a devilish grin crossing your face.

“Oh? I didn’t realize you were ticklish. Does this tickle?”

Your fingers danced across Larissa’s sides, trying to find the spots that would have her squirming - it did tickle a little, but Larissa shook her head.

“How about this?” Your touch slowly turned more frantic and Larissa couldn’t take it any longer - she stepped back with a laugh, just out of reach. Of course you followed her, your hands ghosting over her body, tickling and caressing - Larissa laughed harder, twisting this way and that as her body shook under your touch. Your own laughter echoed through the suite, and you giggled madly in response to a loud shriek that Larissa let out when the backs of her knees hit the bed and she realized there was nowhere to escape to.

Larissa allowed herself to fall back onto the bed - you were close behind, crawling on top of her, all giggles and smiles as you leaned down and pressed what must have been dozens of tiny kisses all over Larissa’s face. Your hands left her sides to grip her wrists, pinning them above her head as your lips continued their assault on her jaw and throat.

Larissa was mid-giggle when she felt her laughter die in her throat - your thigh had found its way between her own and pressed up into her sex. She could feel her cheeks flush as she met your gaze, taking in your blown pupils and the adorable grin on your face, looking like a cat that caught a mouse.

“This is for earlier, during take-off,” you whispered as you leant in and pressed your lips to the center of her throat - she swallowed thickly and her eyes fluttered shut as the softest of whimpers escaped her lips.

“I-I was going to reward you,” Larissa whispered back breathlessly.

“As if this isn’t enough reward…”

In that moment, your thigh began to rock against her cunt at the exact same time that your teeth sunk into her neck, and her brain short-circuited. A strangled moan clawed its way out of her throat, so loud and broken that Larissa’s face began to burn. Your tongue began to lick the side of her neck, soothing the bite marks you’d left - wet and cool, sending a pronounced shiver down her spine.

Your knee found Larissa’s clit through the fabric of her pantyhose and underwear and you rocked forward, sending a wave of pleasure shooting through Larissa. The pressure was delicious but it wasn’t enough - she began to writhe and squirm, needy sounds bubbling forth from her chest as she started to grind desperately into you.

Larissa needed more - she broke her wrists free from your grip to fist at the front of your shirt, tugging you harshly towards her and crashing your lips together. One hand threaded its way into your hair, holding you in place as she licked into your mouth, her tongue dancing eagerly with yours. She could feel your breathing become labored, little whimpers escaping into Larissa’s mouth for her to swallow - it would appear Larissa wasn’t the only one who was helplessly turned on.

“Darling,” Larissa warned, her voice breathy as her hands began to trail down her own body, rubbing and squeezing her breasts on the way down before reaching her hips and hiking her dress up. “P-please…”

You sat back on your heels, wasting no time in tugging her pantyhose down, and her underwear along with them. Resting a hand on either one of Larissa’s thighs, she could feel you gently pry her legs apart, her folds being spread open by the action. Larissa watched with hooded eyes as you sunk down between her thighs, lining up your mouth with her cunt - she could feel herself trembling in anticipation, her breath coming out in shallow puffs as her clit throbbed with need.

Finally - finally - your tongue met her pussy, eagerly exploring her folds. Larissa let out a shuddering breath, her hands fisting at the sheets beneath her as you began to make soft, muffled noises of pleasure, the vibrations of which shot straight through her entire body.

“You taste so fucking good.” Your voice was low and gravelly and it made Larissa’s belly fill with warmth, her core tightening. Your tongue lapped eagerly at her cunt, gathering her arousal and soothing it over her clit - the action caused Larissa to buck her hips into your mouth. This was the first time you’d properly eaten her out, save for the brief moment on the morning after your first date where you’d been so rudely interrupted, and it felt like heaven to Larissa - your tongue was incredibly skilled, and the sight of you hungrily lapping at her core, with Larissa’s thighs bracketing your head, was nearly enough to send the shapeshifter over the edge.

“I need - mmh - m-more,” Larissa found herself whimpering as she teetered on the edge of bliss - she just needed that little push, that little bit more friction…

Your lips latched onto her clit, sucking fervently, and Larissa got what she so desperately needed - her orgasm washed over her, her toes curling and her thighs closing around your head as she whimpered and moaned her way through the aftershocks.

Your tongue caught every drop of arousal that Larissa’s body had to offer, licking her pussy and thighs clean of any remnants of her orgasm with a pleased hum. Then you peeked your head up, your cheeks flushed and your pupils blown, and Larissa could feel a blissed out grin spread across her face at the sight.

“Oh, come here, you,” she whispered fondly, sounding out of breath as her chest heaved. You crawled up her body and snuggled into her, your lips finding her own. Larissa groaned - your lips and chin were wet and tasted of her own arousal. She wrapped her arms around your waist and tugged you closer, smiling into the kiss. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you said with a chuckle, nuzzling your face into the crook of Larissa’s neck and letting out a content sigh. Larissa’s arms tightened around you and she allowed her eyes to flutter closed for a few minutes as she regulated her breathing.

Your stomach broke the blissful silence with a low growl, and Larissa chuckled.

“We should get ready for dinner, hm?” Larissa’s fingers danced across your collarbone, your jaw, before cupping your cheek and pulling you in for a kiss. “I’d like for you to unpack your gift before we go.”

~~~

The two of you unpacked your suitcases and you laid the gifts she’d packed for you on the bed, your fingers playing curiously with the tissue paper. Larissa sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs primly and turning her attention to you.

“You may open it. I do hope you like it.” Larissa paused for a moment, then reached over and handed you the box. “Start with this one.”

You raised an eyebrow and began to tear gently at the tissue paper - Larissa watched intently, her heart hammering in her chest as your eyes widened.

“These are beautiful,” you murmured, turning your new high heels over in your hands.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d have the appropriate footwear for your other gift,” Larissa confessed with a blush.

You set the shoes gingerly back into their box, turning your attention to the unopened gift. “Can I?”

Larissa nodded and gestured for you to go ahead, trying to mask her nerves with a sweet smile. You once again tore through the tissue paper, your cheeks flushing as you uncovered the surprise.

Larissa had a knack for figuring out people’s measurements - fashion was one of her passions, she’d even learned to sew at an early age. She’d found the perfect dress for you a while ago, one that she was sure would accentuate your eyes and fit your aesthetic. Despite her confidence, a tiny part of her was nervous - she never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable or cross some sort of invisible boundary.

She let out a surprised squeak when she suddenly felt your arms encircle her torso and hug her tight, your head burying itself in the crook of her neck.

“Rissa, you didn’t have to,” you mumbled into her shoulder, your voice muffled.

“Oh hush… do you like it? You don’t have to wear it, I promise I won’t be upset.”

You pulled back, your expression earnest. “It’s stunning, Larissa. I love it.” Larissa grinned widely, then her cheeks went pink. She cleared her throat and her eyes flicked to the pile of tissue paper. “There’s more…”

Your brows knit together as you turned back to the dress, your fingers rifling through the discarded wrappings - your cheeks turning just as pink as Larissa’s when you saw the matching underwear set, in the exact color of the dress. You lifted the lacy thong and bralette, carefully examining it, and Larissa’s breath hitched.

“I’m sorry, I hope I-”

You cut her off with a kiss - long, hard, desperate. Larissa hummed against your soft lips, melting into you as you pressed yourself into her.

“Don’t be sorry, I’m not,” you whispered against her lips, before kissing her again, even harder than before - it took Larissa’s breath away and made her dizzy. “I’m going to go change… I’ll be right back.”

~~~

Larissa felt her breath catch in her throat as you slipped out of the bathroom. The dress fit you like a glove (filling Larissa with a certain smugness at having gotten your measurements right) - it hugged and accentuated each and every curve of your body, and drool pooled in Larissa’s mouth as her eyes hungrily devoured your body. Larissa had so been looking forward to going out with you but at that moment, all she wanted was to rip that dress off you, pin you to the bed and have her way with you over and over and over again. Especially knowing what underwear lay underneath the dress.

“You okay there?” Your voice brought Larissa back to the present - she clenched her thighs together with want and her eyes snapped up to meet your own, only to see humor dancing in your sparkling irises.

“You have no idea how much I desire you.” Larissa almost felt embarrassed at how gravelly and hoarse her voice had become and she cleared her throat, her cheeks quickly turning scarlet. You grinned, stepping forward until your body was pressing against Larissa’s - her hands automatically settled on your hips and the feeling of your body wrapped in that tight fabric was enough to have Larissa’s aching cunt clench around nothing.

“I mean if you want…” Your eyes flicked briefly down the length of Larissa’s body, hooded and suggestive. Larissa’s own eyes fluttered shut and she swallowed, hard, as her panties grew damp.

“No,” she said, her voice much higher than she’d intended for it to be. “I mean, yes. But I want you to experience more than just this hotel room this weekend. We’ll have plenty of time later, when we get back.”

“I mean, if you’re sure.” You batted your lashes and Larissa’s stomach flipped - she felt properly flustered.

“You really will be the death of me, you do know that?”

Your smug grin as you pried yourself from Larissa’s grip to grab your purse said it all.

Taglist: @mysaviorfalsegod @imlike-so-gaydude @rainbow-hedgehog @enchantressb @alder-saan @eveymay @amateurwritescm @brienneswife @principal-weems09 @messynessi @larissaoftarthweems @anti-bright-places @lvinhs @catechristiesstuff @ladyzmilf002 @milfsloverblog @opheliauniverse @orangeisnttheonlyfruit @im-a-carnivorous-plant @alexusonfire @bigolgay @kimiinou @wastdstime @scream-queenlover @imprincipalweemspet @justcallmelittleone @willowshadenox @milfsloverblog @yourlocaldisneyvillain @leftoverenvy @yahaqueen @peggycarter3 @lilfartbox1 @makemyworldworthliving @crow-raven-crow @mosscoveredcrucifix @opalthefrog

Let me know in the comments if you'd like to removed from or added to the taglist <3

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa x reader #principal weems x reader #lipstick stains #lipstick stains series

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ilovebeomkai · 1 year

Text

under the stars — choi yeonjun x gn!reader

ෆ synopsis : y/n gets dragged to a party after coming back from studying abroad which leads her to cross paths with the choi yeonjun, but he's a lot sweeter than expected for being known as the party boy.

ෆ genre : fluff

ෆ warnings : none

ෆ wc : 1.8k

ෆ a/n : this is my first time writing so…this is probably really bad but we move unedited & lowercase intended

the view out the window of the plane was gorgeous, the sky painted with hues of deep oranges and light pinks as the sun set over the ocean. While the scenery was breathtaking it wasn’t enough to calm your nerves, you were finally going back to korea after studying abroad for 2 years in the states.

you were happy to be going home, of course you were, after all, your friends and family were all still living here. However you couldn't deny the anxiety and fear bubbling up inside, what if things had changed? Everyone has moved on without you? You just…no longer belonged? eventually, you got lost in your thoughts, mapping out every worst-case scenario before drifting off into a not-so-peaceful slumber.

a few hours later you were awoken due to the bumpy landing of the plane, a storm making it a bit rough but nothing too scary. The rain was strangely comforting, you’d always been someone who enjoyed staying in and reading a nice book with the comforting pitter-patter of raindrops against the window.

you’d just grabbed your luggage from the baggage claim, making your way across the airport when you heard y/f/n calling out to you, “y/n! Over here!” they yelled out whilst running toward you. “Oh my god, it's been forever! I know we’ve kept in touch but it just wasn't the same as having you here, how are you? Was the flight okay? I can’t wait to show you around, and there's a party tonight I can take you to and-”

you loved them but you had to admit all the questions at once were a bit overwhelming, the one thing that caught your attention being the mention of a party. “y/f/n- you know I'm not exactly a party person” you mumbled and they shook their head, “nonsense! You just came back and it’ll be a great way to introduce you to new people!”

you sighed and shook your head as y/f/n rambled on, you knew there was no use in arguing and you weren’t exactly the type to fight back so you simply accepted your fate as the two of you headed to your family’s home to settle in.

after settling in a few hours had passed and you were lying on y/f/n’s bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone as you waited for them to finish showering. “Soooo, about that party-” they started, settling down right next to you on the bed. “I already told you I don’t wanna gooooo” you whined, glancing up at them with an uninterested expression.

after a good 30 minutes of back-and-forth banter between the two of you, you accepted that there was no way out of this. y/f/n had lent you something to wear, as you hadn’t felt what you picked out was quite…party appropriate, and off you went to call a taxi.

the car kept driving for what felt like an eternity, following a windy road up a hill and coming to a stop in front of a house not big enough to be a mansion but big enough to elicit an audible gasp from you.

as soon as your feet crossed the threshold of the home you felt out of place, the loud music, crowded rooms, and overall overwhelming atmosphere was too much. y/f/n seemed to know everyone as she lead you through the sea of bodies, waving and greeting almost every other person. “Come on, you need to let loose!” were the last words you heard from them before they vanished from your sight.

somehow you found yourself wandering to the kitchen, grabbing a drink to occupy your hands to blend in and avoid looking even more out of place than you already felt. Despite your efforts to distract yourself and make the most of the situation the commotion seemed to be growing louder by the minute, unable to withstand the pounding in your head any longer you pushed through the crowd until you saw the moonlight leading you to a balcony.

there you stood, trying to get a breath of fresh air while leaning against the wall in an attempt to calm yourself down. Out of the corner of your eye, you could’ve sworn someone was approaching, but you couldn’t be bothered to double-check. You didn’t know it yet but you’d just caught the attention of the most well-known party boy in the district, choi yeonjun.

“hey there,” yeonjun said, flashing a signature smile as he glanced down at you, “what brings a pretty person like you out here when all the fun is in there?” he chuckled, nodding his head back toward the inside of the house.

“just needed some space…” you mumbled quietly, unable to combat the smile tugging at your lips when you looked up and met his eyes. He could tell that you weren’t quite comfortable going back inside, but something about you was calling to him. “Do you maybe wanna go for a walk or something? It’s a lovely night and I assume you don’t wanna head back in there” he said with a kindhearted laugh.

“actually…that sounds nice” You nodded, that was all it took for yeonjun to grip your hand tightly but gently, leading you back through the sea of bodies and out the back door. The two of you walked aimlessly down the windy road in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s company.

once the two of you reached the foot of the hill yeonjun took notice of the convenience store just down the street, “are you hungry?” he asked, to which you nodded in response. “I could eat right now” you laughed as he tugged you gently in the direction of the convenience store, “let's eat then, and get whatever you want, it's on me” he grinned as he opened the door for you, and followed inside.

your eyes light up immediately at the sight of your favorite snack, immediately grab a bag and continue to browse with it held tightly in your arms. Yeonjun followed behind you, finding the way your eyes lit up adorable.

after a few minutes, you heard Yeonjun’s voice echoing from another aisle, “Oh look! The tteokbokki here is amazing, trust me, do you wanna share some?” he asked, looking over to you with hopeful eyes. You couldn't bring yourself to say no and you did enjoy tteokbokki, “oh my god, yes!” you gasped happily, tteokkbokki had been a comfort food of yours ever since you were a kid and little did you know it was yeonjuns too.

soon you decided you were done and the two of you went up to the counter, everything was rung up and yeonjun led you to a table by the window and sat down. “So, care to tell me about yourself? I don't think I've ever seen you around…and if there's a party I'm always there” he added with a smile.

“well I guess it was obvious but I'm not really a partier, and I just came back after studying abroad so I’m still settling in” she replied nervously, yeonjun carefully taking note of your demeanor as he nodded. You guys began eating as soon as everything was heated up, at first the conversation was slow and minimal but soon enough you found yourselves opening up to each other. An extra 10 minutes turned into an hour until almost 2 hours had passed and you found yourself wondering where the time had gone.

“hmm we should probably head back now, your friend might be worried about you no?” yeonjung asked, tilting his head. Truth be told he didn't want to go back just yet, even 15 more minutes with you would make him ecstatic, but he didn’t want to push his luck. “Yeah I don’t want to worry y/f/n,” you said with a bit of a frown forming on your face. It was obvious that neither of you wanted to be without the other's company, having formed a strong connection in the short time you’d spent together.

it didn't take long for you and yeonjun to reach the party, but much to your surprise it was still going strong and y/f/n was nowhere to be seen.

“why don't we go up to the roof? The sky is pretty clear tonight so we can stargaze, I figure it’ll be a lot better than going back in there right now” he laughed, looking to you for an answer. You thought about it for a few seconds before nodding eagerly, “sounds amazing” you said, on the outside, you seemed indifferent but on the inside, you were thrilled to be able to spend more time with him.

yeonjun lead you up a staircase that lead to the roof, a nice flat surface that the two of you could lay on. “Sit here,” he said softly, patting the space next to him and waiting until you’d settle down next to him. As soon as you sat he laid back and nodded when you glanced at him, wondering if you should do the same.

“it's gorgeous out here right now…” he commented, the stars glittering above the two of you in a vast sea of darkness. You nodded, gazing up with him before excitedly pointing at a whole cluster of stars, “look at the group right there, it's breathtaking” you sighed contently.

before you knew it your eyelids were getting heavier by the minute. Yeonjun glanced over, taking notice and smiling to himself. He’d been stealing glances at you all night long, but you looked especially stunning with the soft glow of moonlight shining down on your face.

he’d only looked away for a few seconds when he turned to point out a constellation to you but was instead met with the sight of your eyes shut tight and your chest rising and falling gently with every breath.

“cute” he mumbled, placing his jacket over you and wrapping one arm around you gently, careful not to wake you. He closed his eyes as well, a stupid grin on his face as he drifted off to sleep as well with the sound of the muffled music echoing all around. He didn’t know even a fraction of what he wanted to about you, but he did know he’d do anything in his power to make you his one day, holding you close as you fell asleep under the stars.

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ideas-live-forever · 10 months

Text

Business Trips With Ken!

inspiration strikes! i’m on a roll, i never usually write so much 😭. just some more ken headcanons/blurbs :))

send a request if you have one! i’m looking for some more ideas about what to write!

Ken LIVES to be around you

So when he learns that you have to travel for two weeks or so for your job, he’s a little bitheartbroken

The poor guy immediately assumes that he won’t even hear from you the whole time

You explain to him that you could still call him and talk every day, you just wouldn’t be in person with him for a little

He’s still very sad, but he does his best to be understanding

He helps you pack your bags and insists you bring a bunch of things you definitely don’t need for two weeks

“Y/n! You *have* to bring your favorite pillow!” Ken insists, pushing it towards you.

You take it in your hands and let out a soft laugh at his antics. He’s so worried about you, and you haven’t even left yet. It’s honestly adorable.

“The places I’m staying at have pillows, love. I’ll be fine.” You reply, your tone affectionate as you delicately set the pillow down.

“But what if they’re not as comfy? Then you won’t be able to sleep, so you might not be able to do work as well! And then you’ll get upset!” Ken persists in his actions, picking the pillow up again and hugging it to his chest. “Just take it, it’ll make me feel better. Please.”

How could you say no to that? Reluctantly, you pack the pillow in your suitcase, looking up to see a much less stressed out boyfriend.

“Okay, fine. Happy?”

“Very!” He says, smiling before he gets an idea. “While you’re at it, maybe you should bring this stuffed animal for luck.”

To your dismay, he holds up his favorite horse plush. His expression is so innocent and caring. It takes practically all of your willpower, but you manage to go without packing it.

You found that horse in your suitcase while on your trip

The next day, he insists on going with you to the airport, and he calls a taxi early in the morning for you two to get there

Ken doesn’t even let you NEAR your suitcase. He pulls it for you all the way to security

When its finally time for you to leave, he gets all teary eyed

Pulls you into a bone crushing hug.

“Call me as soon as you land, okay?” Ken says through sniffles, burying his head in your shoulder.

“I will. Promise.” You back away from the gif long enough to press a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. And we can call every day.”

Ken nods at that, blinking rapidly to try and stop the tears from really spilling down. He gives you a little smile, incredibly proud of you even though you have to be away from him. The noise of the bustling airport around you seems to draw you out of your sweet moment.

Teary goodbyes

He gives you a nice, long kiss on the lips before he lets go of you

When you finally go through security and he can’t see you anymore, he goes back home and texts you a ‘Safe flight!!! Love you so much!!’

You text him when you land, as promised, and he lets out a breath of relief

While you’re away, Ken is basically texting you all the time

Every time he sees something that remind him of you or he thought you might enjoy, he sends you a picture.

You answer him as soon as you have time too

And every day after work, you call him to catch up

He always picks up on the first ring with a “Y/n! I miss you :(“

If you’re in different time zones, he’ll definitely stay awake until unreasonable hours to talk to you

Until you make him hang up and go to bed

BUT if you have a rough at and tell him about it he will absolutely refuse to go to sleep until he knows you’re feeling better

He hates not being able to comfort you in person :((

Ken makes plans to pick you up when you land back home from your trip, but he can’t drive, so he calls a taxi again

You barely see Ken before he runs and hugs you, ignoring the weird looks he’s getting from the other people in the airport

He takes all your bags to the taxi and then sits next to you in the backseat, clinging onto your hand

Once you get home, he insists on you resting

“Ken, I should really unpack a little-“ You start as he practically pushes you into your room.

“No, you have to sleep! You were on a plane today. Get some rest. I’ll unpack. Then we can cuddle!” He says with a tone that sounds like he doesn’t plan on budging in his stance.

He keeps his promise

Ken unpacks all your bags as best as he can, putting things away correctly for the most part

Then, he joins you in the bed, grabbing you around you waist and kissing your forehead

Lots of ‘I love you’s

He falls asleep with you, excited to hear about your trip more in the morning

#ken x reader #barbie movie #ken carson #ken imagines #barbie #ken blurbs #ken headcanon #ryan gosling ken #stereotypical ken x reader #stereotypical ken headcanons

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queen-of-the-avengers · 2 months

Text

Family Doesn't Mean Blood

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Aww if steve and vixen settle down imagine them fostering or adopting a child. In their words "adoption helps a kid"

Summary: After being married to Steve for a few years, you're starting to think about expanding your family. The problem is, you can't have kids naturally. Well, is that a problem?

Cat and Mouse Masterlist

Squares Filled: planning a vacation (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Life has never been this good for you. What’s the fucking catch? You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop but it never comes. Why would it? You got married to the best person in the world, have an amazing job that lets you save people, have amazing friends who do what you do, and work on being healed from people who stripped you down and stole whatever was left of you.

It’s been a few years since you and Steve tied the knot, and you’ve never been happier. Marriage is and was something you never thought was in the cards for someone like you. Whatever Hydra did to you made you believe you were only good for killing someone and stealing what they couldn’t do on their own.

The celebrate your third anniversary, you and Steve are planning a vacation to a place you two have never been to before. There is a lot of ground on Earth to cover, but you want to go someplace raw and nature-filled. You can always hop on a plane and go to a touristy spot with a million other people, but you want to enjoy what nature has to offer and escape from the real world for a bit.

“How about Hawaii? I’ve never been there.”

“Too crowded. Everyone and their mother wants to go there.” Steve flips through a vacation brochure that Tony sent him in the mail. “What about Alaska? I’ve never been there. I know the cold won’t bother us.”

“How can it? You spent most of your life as a Capsicle.”

“Hey, you promised never to call me that.”

You know he’s joking based on his tone and the fat smile on his face. You walk over to him and kiss him tenderly to express your apologies.

“Alaska this time of year must be beautiful. We should go there.”

“Alaska it is, then.”

You and Steve packed for the icy vacation in Alaska, something you’re excited for. You’ve seen snow and experienced the cold winters of Siberia, but you’ve never actually enjoyed it. You want to experience being bundled up in front of the fireplace when there is snow falling outside.

The day of your flight comes sooner than you expected, so you and Steve head to the airport. A lot of people will recognize you but you’re flying first class so that might limit the amount of people you come into contact with. Tony offered his private jet but you like experiencing “normal” people things like going to the airport. It makes you feel more connected with the world if that makes sense.

You get to the airport and see a family get out of the taxi they ordered. It’s a family of four, and the two teenagers struggle to get their luggage out of the trunk. The teenage boy complains to his mom who heaves the luggage like some Super Mom. Steve sees the family but doesn’t say anything about it. You two head inside to check with security after getting your tickets at the front desk.

A young woman and her young son are at the very front of the line getting ready to go through the metal detectors. He’s a small toddler who doesn’t quite understand what is going on but he takes off his shoes per the instructions of TSA. He runs over to his mom and holds up his shoes.

“Here you go, Mommy.”

Seeing him tugs on your heartstrings. You look over at Steve who is watching the child. Something nags at you from the back of your mind from security all the way to the gate. There is some time to kill so you and Steve grab a quick bite at a cafe near the gate. A few tables down from you is a mother and father trying to feed their three very small children. They might be a bit older than newborns, and the parents scramble to get their bottles ready. Steve notices you staring at the family and nudges your side.

“Are you okay?”

“Never better.”

When you get on the plane, you notice a man who looks to be in his forties escorting his elderly father to his seat. The old man looks too old to do anything himself which is why his son is here helping him. Seeing these families makes you question your own, and you look at Steve who is reading the information booklet in the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him.

The flight to Alaska is a grueling eleven hours but you use the time to sleep and catch up on your books. Nothing can prepare someone for the harsh weather that is known in Alaska this time of year, but you once spent a winter in Siberia that was -60 degrees, so this is honestly nothing. Steve spent seventy years in the ice so this cold doesn't bother him either.

The hotel you’re staying in is more like a housing lodge with a bunch of different cabins located around a major lake in Alaska. While Steve is checking in at the front desk, you’re sitting in the lobby waiting for him to be done. A small child runs up to you holding a cookie and she raises her hand to give it to you.

“Oh, hello,” you smile.

“Hi. This is for you.”

You take the cookie, unsure where her mother is. Seconds later, you hear someone calling for her.

“Lily! There you are. You don’t go up to strangers like that.” She walks over and grabs her arm. “I’m sorry.”

“I gave her a cookie, Momma!”

“It’s okay, honestly.” Lily leaves with her mother just as Steve comes back. “She gave me a cookie.”

Steve chuckles and leads you to one of the lodges on the lake. It’s private, big, secluded, and very beautiful. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. You arrived in Alaska late so the only thing you’re doing today is relaxing. The sun is already setting and the snow is starting to fall so the only logical thing to do is build a fire and snuggle up in front of it. Steve brought out the alcohol the lodge laid out for you (they were a tad excited two Avengers were staying with them) and sat by the fire with you. Steve looks at you and sees you staring at the fire in thought.

“What are you thinking?” Steve asks and sips his drink.

“You know, I never once had a thought where I might end up one day. All that mattered to me was the mission. Then, I met you, and that all changed. Suddenly, I found myself seeing myself buying a house with you, marrying you, and being everything I wished I could be for you. I was never allowed to think about what I wanted in life.

“Now I do.” You look at him with unshed tears in your eyes. “I thought I never wanted children. I was never given the room to even think about stuff like that. Lately, everywhere I look, are children and their parents. I know you want one. I see you looking at them, too. I see myself in a great big house with you and our little ones running around. I can see you teaching them to protect themselves, and our dogs will always be there to protect them, too. I want that now, but they sterilized me when they made me. It hurts me that I can’t give that to you.”

Steve sets his drink down and pulls you closer. You rest your head on his chest and softly cry at missing what you can never have.

“There are other ways to have kids. We can adopt or foster.”

“All I wanted before I was taken was to have a family of my own.”

“We can have that.”

“Even if I can’t give you a child biologically?”

“Even that. Family doesn't mean blood. We make our own in any way we want.”

“Are you saying you want to adopt a child with me?” you sniffle.

“We’ve had a few good years of marriage. I think it’s time we bring someone new into the picture, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I do,” you smile and kiss him. “When we get back, we can look into it.”

“Okay,” Steve nods and kisses you once again.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fiction #steve rogers fan fic #steve rogers fan fiction #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #marvel fan fic #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel #marvel fiction

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absurdthirst · 11 months

Text

Love to Hate You {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: Cheating, divorce, face slapping, name calling, insults, angry sex, hate fucking, rough sex, biting, scratching, unprotected sex, sub/dom dynamics, mentions of pregnancy, angst, mentions of drug use

Comments: Married to Dieter Bravo, you lash out when you find out the man you helped become a star is cheating on you. Taking him to cleaners divorce wise, you never thought you would run into him the day the divorce was final. Leaving you two to decide to work the hatred you have for each other out in bed.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Dieter frowns when the taxi pulls up outside of his house, clothes scattered on the lawn, and he quickly pays the driver to get out and see what the fuck is going on. He’d called you from the airport to let you know he’s on his way home and now you are throwing his clothes out of the house. “Babe. What the actual fuck are you doing?” He demands when he sees you come out of the bedroom, carrying an armful of his clothes.

“You motherfucker!” You shriek, dropping the clothes to rush up to slap him. He flinches, barely managing to grab your wrist before you can make contact.

“Not the face. It’s the money maker.” He demands and you clench your fist, ripping your arm from his grasp.

“You fucking cheated on me! You - you bastard!” You shriek and he shakes his head, “what the fuck are you screaming about?” You shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks and you rush over to the magazine, clearly showing him and his co-star kissing outside of a bar, shoving it towards him. “Explain this then.” You demand with a scoff

Shit. He had thought he had gotten away with that. “It’s not what it looks-“

You scream and fling the magazine at him. “It’s exactly what it looks like!” You yell. “You aren’t filming! You promised me! You promised me that nothing was happening with her!” You had expressed your concerns with him getting too close to his co-star, he was constantly talking about her. “Just last night you promised me and you had already fucking cheated on me!” You don’t give a damn if he had only kissed her, he lied to you. “Get out! Get out! Get the fuck out!” You grab another handful of his clothes and fling them out over the balcony.

Dieter ducks as you toss a shoe at his head. “Baby. Baby. Stop. No! She - she didn’t mean anything. You’re my fucking wife! I love you. Not her! I don’t - I fucked up.” He tries to plead but you throw the other shoe at him.

“You fucker. We - we had phone sex last night and you promised me she was just a costar. You fucking bastard!” You scream and he holds his hands up, “baby please. Don’t do this.”

“You’re an asshole!” You had cried, wept and wallowed in misery over the fact that the man you absolutely love had betrayed you. Until you had shifted from despair to rage. Now you want to make him pay. Every fucking cent you can squeeze out of him. You had married him when he was nobody, had supported him when he quit his shit waiter jobs because they wouldn’t let him off to audition and he fucking cheats on you? Now you’re going to take everything. “Guess what Dieter?” You hold up his precious Oscar, from its place of pride on the bedside table.

“No- no baby, not the Oscar!” Dieter begs, clapping his hands together as he pleads.

“We don’t have a prenup, you cheating fuck.” You hiss, grinning cruelly at him. “And I gave the best goddamn divorce attorney in the state.”

Dieter shakes his head, “you can’t- you can’t divorce me. I’m fucking Dieter Bravo. Who the fuck will compare to me? You are a nobody, no one is gonna give a fuck about you. You are nothing without me. Good luck to you sweetheart if you think you’re gonna make it alone.” He scoffs, suddenly getting defensive and cruel, crossing his arms as he tries to act like he doesn’t care when he hates that you are leaving him.

You freeze, staring at him for a moment before you hurl the Oscar at his head making him duck and it shatters the mirror behind him. “Fuck you, you no talented, limp dicked prick!” You shout, turning around and grabbing the papers you are to give him and flinging them outside. “Go fucking live with your costar! She can put up with your needy ass.”

Dieter picks up his Oscar, knowing he won’t kick you out of the house but he has to take his clothes. “Can I ask least have a fucking suitcase?” He whines and you toss a roll of trash bags at him. “You’re gonna regret this.” He growls, “you’ll never have anyone as good as me.” He spits and storms out of the house, ready to pick up his clothes and drive his car over to his co-star’s house, hopefully she will let him stay. She knows he’s married and she knew that before they even started filming. He shouldn’t have cheated but he’s a movie star, that’s what being famous entails. You knew he wanted to be a movie star when you first met, this shouldn’t be a surprise that he’s cheated on you. Everyone he knows in the industry cheats. He isn’t the exception. He gathers his clothes and gets into his car, speeding out of the driveway and he swears he will fucking ruin you.

****

“We’re here today to try to mediate the division of assists between my client and Mister Bravo.” You glare across the table where Dieter is sprawled in a chair and try not to care that he looks tired. The fact that you still love him and hate his guts at the same time infuriates you. Making sure you dress to impress and remind Dieter what he’s losing, you smirk slightly when he turns and looks over at you before you turn back to your lawyer. “We’ve already drafted a settlement that we believe is more than fair considering my client helped Mister Bravo’s career become what it is today.” The demands your lawyer insisted be more that what would ever be awarded to you is produced and handed to whoever Dieter’s manager had hired to represent him. You doubt he had found an attorney himself. Hell, you had done everything for him, was his unofficial assistant after his fame had taken off. Not anymore.

Dieters lawyer grabs the settlement, reading through it to the number and his eyes widen. He leans in to whisper in Dieter’s ear and his eyes widen behind the obnoxious sunglasses he’s wearing. “How fucking much? You- what the hell? You can’t take the house? And how much a month? Jesus Christ baby.” He shakes his head. “You’re trying to take everything I own.”

It’s hard not to soften towards him, especially when he’s looking at you like he’s wounded but you remember the picture of him kissing his co-star. Your smile is vicious. “Remember when I was supporting you because you didn’t want to wait tables so you could have the flexibility to audition.” You remind Dieter sweetly. “And then after you starting getting jobs, I had to give up my job to be your unofficial assistant.”

Dieter sighs, “you had a nice life with me. Never wanted for anything. Why do you want to take everything I own?” He shakes his head, scratching his jaw, “she - she wasn’t you. She never was you. I- please don’t do this.” He pleads, conscious of his estate now that he has an Oscar and the money he’s made. He doesn’t want to lose it all to you.

“Did you fuck her?” You ask, leaning forward and staring at him. Dieter guiltily looks away and confirms what you already knew. He had slept with the co-star that you ‘didn’t have to worry about’. “I thought so.” You cross your arms and bite your lip so you don’t cry.

Dieter hates the look in your eyes, and he knows he owes you the truth. “It wasn’t just her. There were others.” His lawyer hisses in annoyance at his admittance even though more than one affair won’t change the settlement. “The co-star for Hunger Strike. A few fans. A model-”

You cut him off with a choked “stop.”

He leans back in his chair and you swallow harshly, tears now flowing freely. “I thought you’d want to know.” He says and you shake your head.

“Just sign the papers. Please. Let me go.” You beg and he shakes his head.

“I don’t want to let you go. I love you baby. They didn’t mean anything. You - you are the love of my life.”

“You don’t know what love is, Dieter.” Your chin trembles slightly and you shake your head. “I never - ever - cheated on you and I had opportunities to.” You reveal. “Your co-star on your movie last year. But I didn’t, because I loved you.” Your voice cracks slightly. “Now? Now I hate you. I hate you, Dieter.”

His heart breaks but he knows he has ruined your marriage. His shield comes back up and he pushes his sunglasses up his nose. “Whatever. You hate me? I fucking - I hate you for resenting me for my success. Just because you never made it as a painter. Fuck you, sweetheart. I’ll go find a new, younger pussy to fuck in a new house in Sherman Oaks. You’ll be bitter in that shitty house, drowning in memories of us. I’ll sign the papers and we will be done here.” He answers coolly, crossing his arms as he stares at you from across the table.

“Mister Bravo-“ his attorney is wide eyed and shaking his head but Dieter interrupts him.

“I’m signing the fucking papers.” He tells him coldly. “She wants to move on and so do I.”

You glare at him, aware that he’s just shit on the life that you had built together, the ‘shitty’ house was one that he had been giddy to sign the papers on, making love to you in every room. “Good.”

Dieter signs with flourish, using the autograph he’s perfected over the years. “Good luck to you baby, you’ll need it if you ever want someone to make you cum like I did.” He snorts, shoving the papers over to you. He wants this done with so he can go snort some coke and start home shopping to get out of his rental. He just signed another movie deal so he’s ready to move on from you and his old life.

****

You hadn’t been trying to run into your newly minted ex husband. You really hadn’t been. A week after the papers had been signed, the judge approved them and as of today, you were officially Dieter Bravo’s ex wife. The irony had been that the day of your divorce was also your wedding anniversary so many years ago. You hadn’t wanted to sit at home, slowly going through and getting rid of all the evidence that Dieter had once been the main focus of your life, taking down pictures and throwing away old hair brushes. So you had decided to go out. Making a reservation for yourself in CUT, inside the Beverly Wilshire, you never expected to find your ex husband walking into the restaurant, wrapped around a starlet.

Dieter clicks his fingers and the maitre ‘d rushes off to go get him a table and that’s when he sees you. His eyes widen behind his ever present sunglasses and he drops his arm from the young woman who is trying to cling to him. He pushes her away gently and he tells her to wait for the table, lying that he will be right back. He strides over to the table, “fancy seeing you somewhere like this, sweetheart. Not really your kind of scene, is it? Shouldn’t you be at home…knitting? Changing the cat litter for the five cats you’ve likely bought since I left?” He taunts you as he looms over you.

Your smile is vicious and you pick up the martini you had been nursing to toss back and signal for another when the waiter comes up to you. “No, no cats.” You hum, glancing up at him and hate how you still find him sexy. “Decided I need to have a little red meat tonight, to make sure I was up for later on.” You smirk and give a small shrug before you peer over at his waiting conquest. “She looks…..limber.” You offer, not seeing what he found appealing in the girl, except youth. Your martini is delivered and you smile at the waiter, picking it up and moaning at the first sip.

Your moan makes Dieter’s cock twitch and he fucking hates it but nonetheless he invites himself to sit down at the table opposite you. “She’s a fun time, but she’s too eager. You know I like a little bite.” He shrugs and he looks at you over the rim of his glasses, eyes dipping down to your cleavage. You’re still so infuriatingly sexy despite taking all of his money. “What’s later on?” He asks, raising his eyebrows.

Setting your drink down, you pick up your knife and fork to cut another piece off the perfectly seared steak. “I have a ‘date’ with Patrick.” You offer, reminding him of your conversation in the lawyer’s office. “He asked if he could come over after finding out we got divorced.” You’re lying, but it serves the son of a bitch right for sleeping with half of Hollywood. “Trying to decide if I want to book a room, or break in the new bed I bought.”

Dieter narrows his eyes, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Patrick doesn’t know how to fuck.” He admits, leaning in to smirk, “I know that because his ex wife told me that before I fucked her right.” He never got along with Patrick. “Maybe you should book a room, see if she was lying or not.”

“I should.” The knife to the heart twists deeper when you learn about another person he cheated on you with but you don’t let him see it. “Who knows? Maybe your little tartlet will be one of those silent moaners so you can hear me scream again.” You snort, smirking at the thought of your ex-husband hearing you having sex with someone who wasn’t him.

Dieter scoffs just as Anastasia comes over and caresses his shoulder, “the table is ready baby.” She coos and doesn’t even spare you a second glance.

Dieter pushes her hand off of his shoulder, “I’m not hungry anymore. I don’t want dinner.” He says coolly.

She frowns, “you wanna go to my place?” She asks and he shakes his head.

“No. You’re boring as fuck. Go home and find some Ken doll to copulate with.” He waves his hand to dismiss her and her face falls. She punches his shoulder and storms off, furious at his rejection. “Now where were we? Oh yes, something about you screaming my name?”

“Your name?” You laugh and shake your head. “I don’t want to catch something.” You hiss, making Dieter frown.

“I’m clean, I’ve been tested and you aren’t going to scream Patrick’s name, you’re going to scream mine. Just like you always did. No one makes your legs shake and your pussy gush like I do.” He brags and damn him, he has a fucking point. He has been the best fucking sex of your life.

You smirk, deciding you want to work him out of your system. “Go rent a room, Bravo and if I feel like it, I’ll come up.”

Dieter smirks, “really?” You stare at him and when you don’t say no, just continue to stare, he scrambles to stand up. He strides over to the front desk, demanding a suite, and pays for it on a shiny credit card. He signs the papers and gets the key before he comes back over to you. “Here to make all your Pretty Woman dreams come true, baby. You want me to fuck you? I’ll be in room 1021. Don’t keep me waiting.” He leans in to kiss your cheek, sloppily, and struts off to the elevators. As much as no one made you gush like he did, no one ever made him cum as hard as you do. He’s missed you, even if he hates that you took everything from him. Tonight, he wants to indulge in the bittersweet memories of the past.

You take your time, knowing how impatient Dieter is. It will drive him crazy to wait and wonder if you will come up or if you will just leave him hanging. So you slowly consume the rest of your dinner and have one more martini before you pay the check and stand to make your way over to the elevators. You’ve decided that you aren’t going to fuck Dieter, but you wanted him to pay for an expensive suite, just so you can slap him when he opens the door.

When you knock on the door, Dieter grins and strides over to open it. This could either go horrifically wrong or epically right. He stripped down as soon as he got into the suite, thinking it would be funny to open the door naked. When he opens the door, he waggles his eyebrows and your jaw drops, eyes dipping down to his cock. He chuckles, “you missed me, baby?”

You react quickly, hand coming up to slap him, the hit echoing in the large suite and Dieter’s eyes widen.

“What the fuck?” He gasps and you slap him again. “You fucking bitch!” He growls and steps towards you, his hand grabbing your wrist and you falter but he surges forward to press his lips to yours.

You had meant to fight him, to push him away and tell him you would never fuck hum again but the second his lips touch yours, it’s like you’ve lost all reason. The neediness that is inherently Dieter is right there on the surface, wrapping around you and begging for you to touch him. Moaning, you sink your fingers into his curly hair and yank on it hard enough that he yelps into your mouth, cock jumping where it’s pressed against your hip. You’ll fuck him, but it’s going to be angry, just like you feel towards him. “Bastard.” You hiss, biting down on his lip and pulling. “Couldn’t- couldn’t be faithful.” You yank on his hair again and make him whine before you crush your lips to his again.

Dieter groans into your mouth, hands sliding down to squeeze your ass, and he licks along your jaw. “Because of your cold cunt. You kept pushing me away.” He grunts, kissing along your neck and he can’t resist biting down on the juncture between your shoulder and your neck.

Your eyes flutter and you whimper softly, “bullshit.” You argue, twisting your fingers in his hair. “I fucked you whenever you wanted. Never turned you down, you’re just a greedy asshole.” You reach down with your other hand to wrap it around his hard cock and you squeeze a little harder than you would have before you discovered his infidelities.

He hisses at the way you grip his cock, “fuck you. You wouldn’t have any passion. You’d just let me rut into you. There was no reaction, you moaned and faked it. Did - was my cock not good enough for you?” He demands to know, reaching for the zipper of your dress to roughly drag it down.

You snort and roughly start to jerk him off, not caring that you haven’t spit in your hand or smear lube on him. You hope it’s painful. “You mean all thirty seconds of thrusting before you came?” You taunt, stomach lurching at the way his fingers peel your dress away in a frantic, needy manner. Where had this been while you were together? Why hadn’t you been good enough?

Dieter grunts, “it wasn’t thirty seconds.” Your grip is tight and it’s dry but he’s so desperate for you he doesn’t even care. He shoves your dress down your hips, leaving you in lacy underwear that has him drooling. “Who was this for?” He demands to know as he slides his hands under the elastic so he can rub your clit.

“Not you.” You bite back, knowing that it had just been to make yourself feel better. If it makes your ex husband jealous of who you were going to model it for, even better. “Fuck, Dee.” You hiss, hips jerking forward at the pressure of his fingers. “Maybe- fuck, maybe I’ll just make you eat me out.” You pant, pressing your thumb against the drooling head of his cock. “Not let you cum.”

“You know you can’t resist me inside of you. Never could end it at oral. Always had to fuck you into the mattress. Even if you made me cum down your throat. You waited until I was hard again.” He pushes two fingers inside of you, groaning at how wet you are. “Guess you’re wet over this mystery man too?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You aren’t going to admit that Dieter turns you on. Even as your pussy flutters around his fingers. “So fucking cocky for so little performance.” You smear the spurt of precum around the head and reach down to fondle his balls, probably a little firmer than before but you don’t squeeze. You’ve finally admitted to yourself that he’s going to fuck you.

“You’re always such a bitch. Can’t just admit it, can you?” He growls, pulling his fingers out of your cunt and he pushes your dress down to the floor, reaching out to try and rip your panties. “Shit.” He growls, tossing the material to the floor and he slides his hand up to remove your bra with one hand. “Get on the fucking bed.”

You want to push back, to argue just because you can but your legs are shaking and you stumble over towards the bed. Laying down and spreading your legs to show him your dripping cunt. Smirking, you slide your fingers through your folds. “Maybe I should just take care of myself. Since I’m just letting you rut over me and not enjoying myself. Hmm?”

Dieter snorts, striding over and he grabs your hand to snatch it away from your pussy. “Is that what you want? DIY job?” He mocks you, using your hand to push two of your fingers inside of you, keeping his grip on your hand to guide your fingers. “Do they feel better than mine? Do they stretch you out properly?” He coos, smirking when you whine when he pushes them deep inside of you using his own hand.

Dieter is a cocky shit, but he makes you hot. You let him pump your fingers into your cunt until he finally tires of that and makes you stop. “Don’t you want to fuck your ex wife?” You taunt. “Since I fucked you out of your money? Your house?”

He grips his cock, pumping himself after he pulls your fingers from your pussy, and he pumps himself. “You want me to fuck you? I’m gonna need you to beg for it baby.” He orders and your upper lip curls, “as if. I’ll never beg you to fuck me again.”

He chuckles and kneels on the bed, pushing your thighs back and lifting them over his hips. Gripping his cock, he rubs your clit with the head and you moan, “you were saying?” He smirks, teasing you.

“Fuck you, Bravo.” You hiss, glaring at him and that’s the moment that he decides to push inside you. Making you cry out from the thick stretch of him. The thing about Dieter is that his cock is fucking thick, making it hard to take if you aren’t stretched out, but you are wet enough that it only pinches slightly. He pushes in hard, making you gasp as he pushes the air out of your lungs when he hits the back wall of your cunt.

Your gasp makes him chuckle and he doesn’t give you time to adjust. You want him to fuck you, he’s gonna ruin you. No one's gonna compare to him. He rocks into you, hard and fast, setting a devastating pace while he looms over you. “You have missed this cock, haven’t you baby?” He mocks you, eying the way your eyes roll back onto your head.

You hate that he’s right, you’ve missed him. You’ve missed sleeping beside him and having him wake you up for sex during the middle of the night. Instead of answering, you reach up and pinch his nipple, knowing how much he likes that. “I shouldn’t let you fuck me.” You pant. “Who knows where your dick has been?”

“Always wear a condom.” He promises, “you’re the only one I trust.” He admits, “don’t need a fucking baby mama chasing child support on top of your alimony.” He scoffs and leans down to bite your nipple, pushing your thighs back even further so he can sink deeper inside of you.

It’s fucking pathetic that his confession makes you happy. That he would trust you and not those other assholes. He could be lying but you doubt it. Not now. “Fuck Dee.” You whine, closing your eyes and reaching up to dig your nails into his arms above his tattoos, wanting to leave marks he would carry for the next few days from you.

He loves hearing you whine for him. No one else seems to moan his name like you do and he shudders above you, shifting to your other tit, he bites down and loves the way your nails dig into his arms. His manager will bitch about it but he doesn’t care right now. His cock pushes deep inside of you and he groans when your walls flutter around him. “Always been so easy to wind up.” He taunts you, kissing your sternum.

You huff, rolling your eyes and you wrap your legs around him so you can squeeze him tight. Making him hiss at how tight you grip him. “You’re a bigger asshole now.” You moan, closing your eyes so you don’t start to cry at the sudden rush of emotions. You hate him, you hate him so much.

“You’re a bigger bitch now.” He counters, sliding his hands under you so he can bury his face in your neck, breathing you in. He hates you, hates how you drag him back under the emotions he tries to bury. He misses you, of course he does, but you don’t understand him anymore. You don’t understand the world he operates in. If he was an average Joe with an average job, you would’ve been married still. “Fuck.” He hisses, dropping his hips to grind deeper inside of you.

You aren’t clinging to him because you want to, it’s because of how he’s fucking you. Gasping and whining in his ear every time he punches deep against your cervix and makes you clench around him. “Keep- keep it up and I -I might actually cum this time.” You pant into his hair and tighten your hold on him when he hisses into your neck. “Fuck, Dee, so close.” You moan.

Dieter grits his teeth, desperate to make you cum on his cock again, he wants to show how good it was. He groans when you clamp down on his cock after a few more thrusts. “Fuck baby. So good. So good.” He groans, “missed how you cum around me.” He confesses and lets go, ramming inside of you before he stills, cumming like he hasn’t since you first got together.

“Deeeeee.” Your head tilts back and you cry out, body tightening up underneath him as you start to cum. Loving and hating how he can make you cum and it’s always better than anyone else you’ve ever been with. Feeling the heat from his own release flooding your cunt and making you whine at how good it feels as he tries to rock it deeper with every roll of his hips.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He bites out, groaning when he pushes deep and leans over you, pressing his lips to yours despite the risk that you could bite his lip. He has regrets, of course he does, but he knows that his career would destroy you in the long run like it has him. He knows he would freak out if you were hounded by paps like he is. He pulls out of you after a moment, shifting off of the bed to redress. He needs to go. He can’t fall back in love with you, he can’t risk it. “I’m, uh, gonna go. Order whatever you want from the room service. Stay the night.”

You hadn’t expected soft words or love, but Dieter has always been a snuggly, cuddly person after sex. Sprawling all over you and insisting that he sleep inside you. Sitting up, you watch as he hastily dresses like a husband will be after him with a shotgun. “Whatever.” You snort, standing up and grabbing your bra so you can redress. “Enjoy your next conquest.” You smirk. “I know you need to book another movie to make the alimony payment.”

****

Dieter glances around the expensive suite of the Beverly Wilshire, waiting for you. It’s been 3 years since that night you spent in the hotel room together and it’s become a tradition of sorts, a revisit to your marriage. He knows he can’t give you his loyalty, and you won’t give him his freedom, so this is a compromise. Meet every year on your wedding anniversary to fuck each others brains out then leave and resume your daily lives. It scratches an itch, you once said. His knee bounces and he waits for you to arrive, maybe you changed your mind this year? He would never admit the relief he feels when he hears the knock on the door and he opens it to find you looking gorgeous as ever. “Took you fucking long enough.” He gripes, knowing you still hate him.

You roll your eyes and step into the suite, your palm itching to slap him again. You secretly wonder if Dieter likes it because he doesn’t try to stop you when you do. “I could have stayed home with my toys.” You snark, raising a brow and shaking your head. “Strip and lay down on the bed. I’m riding you this year.” You order, wishing you had brought handcuffs to tie him to the bed so you could stuff your panties in his mouth.

“Such a fucking bossy bitch. Jesus Christ.” Dieter huffs and pulls his ragged shirt over his head. Ever since he made it big, he wears shitty clothes so the paps don’t want to take his photo. “Were you this fucking bossy during our marriage?” He asks, pushing his sweats down to expose his semi hard cock. He’s always half hard just thinking of you. He kicks them aside and lays down on the bed as per your orders, folding his arms behind his head.

“Yes.” You start to strip off your clothes, fully aware that his eyes are glued to every inch of skin you start to reveal. As much as Dieter says he wanted younger, better pussy - he keeps coming back for yours. Thrilling you in a way, since he always rises to the occasion on your little anniversary interludes. “You liked it. ‘Yes ma’am. Whatever you want, just please suck my cock’.” You mock, revealing the lacy teddy you had worn underneath. You would swear it’s not for Dieter but you’d be lying. Wanting him to regret leaving you. “You hate it now, but that’s okay, because I still hate you.”

Dieter’s stomach twists at hearing you still hate him but he ignores that to watch your beautiful body as you stand there in the teddy. “If you wanna be bossy, then be bossy. Tell me what you want. Use me.” He demands, cock twitching against his stomach at the thought of you riding his face or his cock.

You give a small laugh and tilt your head as you look at him, “wrap your hands around the headboard.” You order as you move towards the bed. “Don’t touch me. You're going to make me cum on your face and then I’m going to ride your cock.”

He nods, cock leaking a drop of precum at the thought of you riding his face. “Fuck yes, baby. Come on, wanna taste that pussy.” He orders, knowing he should be rude and demand you suck he cock but he can’t. He wants you to fall apart on his face. “Hurry up!” He whines when you take too long to straddle his chest.

“So impatient.” You slap his cheek gently and smirk at the way his cock twitches behind you. “Open that dirty, cheating mouth of yours, you bastard.” Pulling the cloth covering your cunt to the side, you shuffle forward to drop your lips onto his mouth.

He groans when your tang hits his lips. His hands squeeze the headboard, wanting to touch you, but he’s had his orders. He works his tongue through your folds, flicking your clit, and he closes his eyes as he savors the taste he knows so well.

“Fuck.” You won’t admit it, but he’s still the best fucking lover you’ve ever had. Switching between demanding and submissive, it’s always fun to fuck Dieter. Reaching behind you, your fingers wrap around his cock and squeeze. “Good boy,” you moan quietly.

“Fuck.” He groans into your folds, cock twitching in your grip and combined with your praise, he’s leaking onto his stomach. You rock your hips and he licks at your cunt, suddenly ravenous and ready to make you cum. He wants to hear you cry out his name in pleasure instead of anger.

If you were still together, you would twist your body around and wrap your lips around his cock. Last year he had made you blow him until your throat was raw and the fucked you until you screamed his name. Getting another noise complaint like you do every year. You miss the weight of his cock on your tongue but this is your time. His fingers grip the head board desperately as you grind down on his face. “Maybe- maybe you should do a porno.” You pant out, looking down at his desperate eyes.

He chuckles into your flesh, knowing he would retort with “might have to do that to pay your alimony” but your pussy is smothering him so he can’t respond. He pushes his tongue inside of you instead, making sure his nose rubs your clit while he curls his tongue deep. The headboard creaks as he struggles to keep holding it, wanting to touch you instead.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck Dee.” You whine, rocking your hips harder and throwing your head back. You love how deep he can get into your soaked walls and how perfectly his tongue curls into you. “You’re gonna make me cum.” You pant. “Gonna soak your stupid face.”

He chuckles at your jab but pays it no mind as his tongue keeps curling inside of you, waiting for you to cum on his tongue for him. His hands squeeze the headboard with the need to touch you and he presses his nose against your clit.

When you cum, you cry out his name, hating that you can’t make yourself call him someone else. Anyone else. That would piss him off. Your thighs shake around his head as you flood his tongue and face with your release as you pant over him.

Dieters hands fly off of the headboard to grab your hips, keeping you pressed into his mouth so he can lap up every drop of cum you can offer him. “Fuck baby. Fuck.” He groans into your flesh, sliding his tongue through your folds until your thighs shake.

When you finally pull off his mouth, you are breathless. Desperate to have him inside you as your cum smears down his chest when you slither down his body. Wrapping your hand around his cock again to position him at your entrance, you lean forward and crush your lips to his while you sink down on his cock.

Dieter groans so loud, he’s certain the entire building just heard him. “Fuckkkk baby girl. Shit.” He hisses, eyes rolling back into his head with how wet and hot you are around him. You’re the only woman he fucks raw, no one else gets to feel all of him. He doesn’t trust anyone else with the birth control, knowing he has too much on the line for them to take from him. Also, he would never admit it to his therapist, let alone himself, that the only woman he has ever imagined having a kid with is you. “Gonna ride me?” He asks when you remain still on his cock.

Slapping your hands down on his chest, you start to move. “Wanted to make sure you didn’t cum immediately.” You snark, circling your hips and lifting off his length just to sink back down on him with a moan. You’ll go get tested, just like you do after every anniversary you spend with Dieter. Not able to trust him to not lie to you anymore, even though you know you can. Catching something was always something he had been scared of, the man couldn’t handle a fucking cold without being a baby. An STI would lay him out. “Know it’s been awhile for you. Since that model dumped you.”

Dieter huffs, sliding his hands up to squeeze your tits, and his eyes drift down to where you are sinking down on his cock, making him groan at the sight of it. He wants to admit the real reason why he was dumped but he can’t. How could he say that the model dumped him because he’s ‘still in love with his ex wife’ and instead he says “she’s like you. Couldn’t handle me being famous. Well, more famous than her.” He scoffs, closing his eyes so you can’t read him like a book. “But she rode me better than you do.” He lies, pinching your nipples, “more flexible.”

“Bastard.” You huff, clenching around him just to make him hiss. “Sorry I’m not as flexible.” Your nails scratch down his chest and you make sure that you swivel your hips even more. The idea that someone fucks him better than you to making you competitive. “Maybe I’ll - fuck, maybe I’ll take lessons on sex from that- that guru then.”

Dieter’s eyes open so he can glare at you. His old friend, the sex guru, Josh, who he fell out with after he indicated he wanted to fuck you, was not Dieter’s favorite person. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He makes shit up - to - to sell books.” He grunts when you bounce on his cock and he hits deep inside of you, taking his breath away.

Instead of arguing, you moan as he hits perfectly against your g-spot. Making you lurch forward and try to make him hit that perfect position again. “You- oh fuck, you feel so good, Dee.” You whimper, leaning in and biting his shoulder and then sucking on the skin to make sure you leave a mark for him to remember you by. Something he sees since his management sends you the alimony checks. You doubt he even knows how much he’s got or where it goes daily.

“Jesus Christ.” Dieter curses even though he changes his religion every week depending on his aura. “Fuck. You feel so good. Fucking hate that no one ever feels as good as you.” He huffs, rocking his hips up to meet yours as you grind down onto him. He knows you hate him, would never want to be married to him again, but he fucking misses this, misses you, despite knowing you can’t accept or handle his life.

If you were the bitch Dieter claims you are, you would bring up that his ex supposedly felt better, but you don’t. Secretly loving that you give Dieter what he can’t get anywhere else. Especially since you hate that no one else has ever fucked you like he can. You never let men stick around because you know you will be in this suite with him the next year like clockwork. Tied to him in ways that you can’t, or won’t, examine. You miss him, and hate that you miss him. “Dee.” You whine, biting his pec right over his heart and kissing up his jaw to his lips. “Gonna cum baby.” You moan. “You- oh fuck!” You squeal when he hits just right, clamping down on his cock as a wave of pleasure threatens to drown you.

“Yessss. Oh fuck yes!” Dieter growls when you clamp down on his cock. He fucking loves it. Loves when you cum so hard you nearly cut off his circulation. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you, and he begins to rock up into you, seeking his own orgasm. “Fuck. Oh fuck. I’ve missed you. Miss you so much baby. Jesus Christ, missed this pussy.” He rambles without really thinking about it.

Closing your eyes, you listen and whine as he pants praises into your ear. Wishing it was real, but that’s just Dieter when he is pussy drunk. He hates you for divorcing him and making him pay you. You kiss his jaw and moan his name again when you feel his thrusts get sloppy. “Cum for me, baby. Cum for me Dee.” You beg.

He groans, thrusting into you a half dozen more times before he cums, pushing deep to paint your walls with his hot seed. You are so tight and wet, he can't help it. He bites down on your neck, cock twitching inside of you as he rides his orgasm.

“Fuck.” You clench down around him, enjoying the come down from another amazing orgasm. Aware that it will only be a minute or two before Dieter is ready to move on for the year. “Not bad.” You pant, kissing his shoulder before you start to sit up. Looking down at the disheveled mess that is your ex husband. “I guess the rumors of you getting too old aren’t true.” You pull off of his cock with a moan and roll to the side, knowing you need to get up and get dressed.

He sighs when you shift to get up from the bed. Dieter watches you rush to the bathroom to clean up and he rubs his cheeks, wishing he could cuddle you one more time, just hold you and breathe you in like he used to. “I’m not too old.” He shouts out at you, looking up at the ceiling of the expensive suite.

You snort as you look at yourself in the mirror, shaking your head. “There he is!” You yell back at him, washing your hands and coming out of the bathroom and walking over to pick up your dress. “What starlet are you planning on dating this month?” You ask as you start to get dressed again. “Anyone I know?”

“My PR team wants me to date some new actress to help her PR and get the press off of my back after the coke in the club photos. Some innocent thing, new to the industry, and from some podunk town.” He huffs, shifting off of the bed, “she’s gonna be so boring but it’s what they recommend.”

“Oh god.” You roll your eyes and sigh. “Try not to ruin her, Dee.” Asking him not to fuck her is an impossibility, but hopefully he won’t get her hooked on anything. “No drugs for her. Especially if she’s young.”

“She’s not that young. She’s just innocent and well…she’s younger than me. I’m getting old now.” He admits softly, reaching for his nearly threadbare boxers. “I- I am getting tired of the PR schemes, the constant dating. It’s exhausting. No one knows the real me. No one except you.” He admits softly, standing up to pull the boxers on.

Zipping up your dress, you pull it down and nod. “So forge a real connection.” As much as Dieter’s infidelity hurt you, you wanted him to be happy. It obviously hadn’t been with you, but you wanted him to find whoever could give him the life he wants. “Don’t date who they want you to. Date who you want to date. Be open, honest.” You stress. “Deep, deep down, beyond the petty, shallow bullshit, you are a good guy. A cheating bastard, but a good guy.”

Dieter pulls on his sweatpants and reaches for his t-shirt. He sighs when you tell him to go find someone who makes him happy but that’s impossible. He pulls his shirt over his head and watches you put your shoes on. “I’m not a good guy. I- I’m an asshole. I take drugs to forget about the fact that I lost the best thing in my life.” He admits softly as he pulls his cardigan on.

“God, Dieter.” You roll your eyes as you pull on your shoes. “You told me you hated our house.” You remind him. “Said you were going to go live in Sherman Oaks and be happy and I could have our shitty house.” You know he’s not talking about the house, you aren’t dumb. “You get to live in a nicer house, snort all the Coke you want, bang whatever piece of ass that catches your eye, your life’s great.”

Dieter sits down to pull on his Uggs. “Great.” The word sits heavy in his mouth, “yeah. It’s great. Being alone. People only want me for what I can give them. Not liking me for who I am. Yeah, it’s fucking fantastic.” He scoffs and stands up. “Whatever. Same time next year?” He asks you as he walks over to the door to open it.

You know that he’s wanting you to say something, to comfort him, but this is what he wanted. Or at least it’s what he chose when he decided to cheat on you. “Yep.” You pick up your purse and slide the strap over your shoulder. Walking over to him, you pat his chest and then his cheek. Leaning in and kissing his lips, you smirk and drag your finger through his patchy beard. “You’re getting grays in your beard, Bravo. You old fuck.” Turning, you walk down the hall, pretending like you don’t have a care in the world.

Dieter huffs and slumps down on the bed again, staring up at the ceiling. He feels so fucking alone now. Maybe he needs to consider getting a real partner. Someone who understands his lifestyle and his career. Who’s he kidding? No one wants him.

****

“No. No. I can’t take that movie. Not if it’s filming in London then.” Dieter shakes his head and his manager frowns, “what do you mean ‘no’? This is a potential second offer.”

Dieter’s manager tells him and Dieter shakes his head, “I can’t. I- I have another appointment during that month.” He doesn’t expand on his reason but his manager shakes his head.

“Unbelievable. What could possibly be more important?” He asks Dieter who answers softly, “it’s my wedding anniversary.” His manager frowns and Dieter stands from the seat, “get the filming changed or I’m not doing it.” Dieter says before he exits the office. He won’t miss your anniversary.

****

Dieter rubs his hands on his pants as he waits for you, the normal suite in the Beverly Wilshire, and he checks the clock. You’re late. He frowns, you’re never late. He sighs and wishes he had your number memorized. He waits another hour until he gets mad. “Fucking bitch.” He growls, standing up and he decides to head over to the house and confront you, see why you stood him up.

When the doorbell peels, you curse at your kitchen sink, turning off the water and grabbing a dish towel to wipe your hands as you rush towards the door. You need to get a damn sign to put up to just leave packages on the doorstep instead of wanting to alert you. It’s been a hectic day and all you want to do is have five minutes to sit down, maybe a nap. Most definitely a bath, but a nap most of all. “Sorry, I- Dieter!” Throwing open the door, you had been about to apologize to whatever delivery driver was standing there when you freeze, shocked by the sight of your ex husband on the doorstep of his old home. He hadn’t been back since you had kicked him out nearly five years ago. “What- what are you doing here?” You demand, glancing back into the house before looking at him nervously.

“You stood me up!” He whines and stomps his foot when he sees you standing there on the doorway. “Why? I- It’s been years that we have met up today. Hell, I turned down a goddamn movie for you - my manager said it was a possible Oscar winner - and you’re here. I want an explanation.” He demands, crossing his arms as he glares at you.

“That was today?” Your eyes widen, having lost track of the days but that’s easy to do now. “Shit, I meant to text you.” You had been planning on texting him and telling him that you felt like you needed to end the meetups on your anniversary. “Why did you turn down a role? I never asked you to do that. I would never-“ From behind you, there is a loud squawk, making your eyes widen even more because you know that’s just the beginning. Immediately followed up by the loud, frantic cry of your son, demanding to be fed like he’s been starving, rather than just waking up from his nap. “Shit.” You turn around and leave Dieter standing in the doorway. Knowing your son is more important than your ex husband’s tantrum.

Dieter’s eyes widen when he hears the baby cry. It takes a moment to sink in, the baby is yours. He shakes his head and steps into the house after you when you rush off, leaving the door open. He walks into the living room to find you coddling a baby. It’s tiny, definitely newborn. His eyes widen and his heart breaks, expecting a man to come out into the living room at any moment. “I- I didn’t know you’d moved on.”

“What?” You are busy trying to soothe the baby, the bottle that you had gotten ready earlier was waiting for him. He hadn’t latched properly and you hated missing out on breastfeeding but it was better that he ate. You were pumping, so that was helping. Looking up, you find Dieter staring at you with a sense of hurt and anger. “Moved on- are you- oh….” You finally figure out that he doesn’t understand. “Dieter…this is our son.” You admit quietly. “He’s three months old. We- uh, my birth control failed.” You hadn’t been with anyone else for some time before meeting with Dieter and definitely not after. Your son could only be his child.

Dieter’s eyes widen when he steps closer to the feeding baby, watching him drink the milk, and he recognizes his features mixed with yours. “No.” He gasps, shaking his head, “no. I- fuck. It can’t have failed. It can’t have. I’m not - I can’t be a father. I can’t - shit.” He’s having a panic attack now, hyperventilating as he stares at the baby in your arms.

You stare at Dieter in shock, never expecting him to react like this, although you never planned on telling him. “Breathe.” You order him softly, heart breaking when you take a step towards him only to have Dieter jump back like you are attacking him. “Dee, you need to breathe.”

“No! No!” He shouts, shaking his head as he backs up even more. “I can’t be a father. I can’t. I’m not - I’m not good enough. I can’t do it.” He chokes, knowing his worst nightmare has come true.

That pisses you off and you glare at him. “You are not a father.” You hiss. “You are a sperm donor. You aren’t on his birth certificate. I’m not going after you for child support. This is my child, not yours. I am a single mother.”

Dieter narrows his eyes as the panic recedes, “good. I didn’t want to be a fucking father anyway. I see now how it is between us.” He’s hurt that you didn’t even tell him when you found out you were pregnant. “Get the fuck on with your life, sweetheart.” He growls and storms out of your house. He’s hurt and upset and he needs to get lost in booze and drugs. He can’t be reminded of what he’s lost. The price he’s had to pay for his career, for his fame. He won’t ever be able to be who he once was, who you met. That eager, young wannabe actor from Oregon. He’s never going to be that guy again. He’s an Oscar-winning actor. He’s Dieter fucking Bravo.

The door slamming makes your son cry out again, you jumping slightly at the sound but he soon settles down to hungrily gulp down the bottle again. “I’m sorry, baby.” You coo to your son, trying not to cry. “I’m - I didn’t think he would- I’m trying to protect you.” It might be wrong, but you know how Dieter can be, his reaction just proved it. You don’t regret having his child, you get to keep a piece of the man you love and the alimony more than covers your expenses. You’ll be fine and so will he. Without Dieter.

****

Dieter has lost track of the drugs he’s taken, the amount of booze he’s drunk. He doesn’t remember most of it but he can’t get the image of you holding the baby out of his mind. It’s early morning, he hasn’t slept, and he can’t take it anymore. He gets in his car, barely sober enough to drive, and he makes his way over to your house, stumbling up to the door and ringing the doorbell.

Groaning, you turn your head to look at the clock, huffing when you see how early it is. Wondering who the hell is at your door and tempted to ignore it when the bell rings again. “Shit, shit.” You huff, dragging yourself out of the bed after a rough night with your son to go down the stairs and open the door, not caring that you are only wearing your nightgown.

Dieter stumbles when you answer the door, eyes wide, and he falls to his knees. “Baby. Oh my baby. Let me - I fucked up. I didn’t want a divorce. I didn’t want to lose you. I fucked up. I miss you. I love you. I love you! Please, let me in our house!” He begs, loud enough that the neighbors can hear.

“Jesus, Dieter!” You hiss, looking around in embarrassment before looking down at the jumbled mess of a man at your feet. “Shut up, people are sleeping. Are you high?” You demand, wanting to know if he’s hopped up on chemicals.

“No. I’m not. I- I had a few drinks. I- I can’t lose you. Please. I couldn’t - I don’t want to lose you baby. I need you. I need you to be my wife again. I want…I want to be a father. I don’t want to abandon my family anymore. I’m sick of it. Hollywood. The people. The drugs. The - the fucking fake bullshit. I don’t want it. I shouldn’t have thrown you away for it.” He sobs, tears now streaming down his cheeks.

Dieter looks pitiful and yet you see the honesty and desperation that is seeping out of his eyes. Looking up at you and begging you to believe him. “You- Dieter, I don’t want to be with a man who is going to cheat on me.” You caution. “Especially since I have Robin. I can’t raise him in a household that is chaotic.”

He shakes his head, “I am done. No one compares to you. No one makes me feel like you do. I want you, only you, and - Robin? You - you named him Robin?” He swallows harshly at hearing his son’s name.

“I did.” You nod. “Robin Harrison Bravo.” You had given him Dieter’s last name since you had never changed yours after the divorce. You had wanted the extra connection to his father but honestly never expected there to be a relationship between your son and the man who helped create him.

He shakes his head, knowing he’s messed everything up. He has destroyed any chance he had at having this family with you. “Baby. I- I’ll go. I - I know I’m not good enough to be a father, to have a second chance to be your husband. I’ll go.” He stumbles as he stands up, swaying from the emotions and the booze.

“Dieter-“ You reach out and grab ahold of his arm. “You are in no shape to go anywhere.” You frown. “You shouldn’t have even tried to come over in the condition you are in. Come inside. I’ll make some coffee and we can talk?”

He sobs, letting you drag him inside your home - his old home - he remembers choosing it with you after he got his first major movie deal. He was so excited to be able to provide for you…finally. After you helped him, supported him emotionally and financially through his desperate attempt to make it in Hollywood. He remembers making love to you on every surface, even painting the bedroom with you since you said he’s a good painter and you didn’t want to spend money on a decorator, you wanted to do it all yourself despite him offering to pay someone. He slumps down on the sofa, watching you walk into the kitchen to get him some water.

You sigh, setting up the coffee maker for a pot and grabbing a bottle of water along with a muffin since you don’t know the last time Dieter has eaten. Bringing it back to set down on the coffee table, you pat his leg. “I’ll make a bottle since I am anticipating Robin waking up soon. We had a long night last night.”

“You did?” He asks breathlessly, opening the bottle of water to down half of it, wanting to be somewhat sober for this time he has with you before you send him away. “I- I don’t want you to do this alone.” He admits, “I want a chance to be his father.”

“You can’t half ass it, Dee.” You warn him, not being nearly as harsh as he deserves. “You’ve already said you didn’t want to be a father and now you do? What’s changed? Is this some kind of mid life crisis bender? Afraid of being alone? Our son isn’t a pet that can be ignored when you’re bored or you want to snort Coke off a model’s ass.”

“I know. I know he isn’t. I don’t want to snort coke anymore. I- I don’t want to act anymore. I- I want to produce. I don’t want to be away from you…or our son. I’m old. I just want to settle down and be with my family…if you’ll still have me. I love you. I’ve always loved you. It’s always been you. I have never wanted anyone like you. I want you. I love you. Please, give me another chance. I was selfish, an asshole, but I’m sick of being selfish. I wanna be your husband again.”

You sit down and reach out to take his hand. “Is that what you really want?” You ask softly, aware that you shouldn’t give him another chance, but you still love him. You’ve always loved him and despite it being a bad idea, you don’t know if you would ever stop. “You want to be together again? Just me and you? No one else?”

Dieter squeezes your hand, “I want you and I want Robin. Nothing else. I don’t want the fame, or the drugs, or the lovers. I want my wife. I miss you. I- I have never spent a night in a bed with anyone but you. Anyone I’ve slept with…I’ve always kicked them out before I went to sleep. I’ve only ever held you in bed. It’s only ever been you. I wake up in the middle of the night and reach for you. I love you baby. So much.”

You can’t help the tears that slip down your face. Wishing that you had heard all of this years ago but happy to hear it now. “I- I love you too. So much. It’s why I was so fucking hurt. You ripped my heart out, Dieter.” You confess softly. “But- I want to give us another chance. With therapy. And a prenup with a cheating clause.”

Hearing you say you want to give him another chance makes his heart pounding and he leans in to nudge his nose against yours, not wanting to kiss you without permission. “I love you. I’ll do whatever you want. Therapy. Prenup. I just want you and our son.” He promises, kissing your forehead as you lean against him.

You sigh quietly and close your eyes. “Are you sure you’re not saying this because I didn’t show up for our yearly hate fucking date?” You joke, wishing that this had happened years ago, that you had him around when you were carrying Robin.

Dieter shakes his head, “I mean, I did book our normal suite so we could have sex but no, I’m not just saying it. It’s…it’s been on my mind for months, remembering how we used to be. I miss you. I am still in love with you no matter how high I get, how drunk I get, or how I try to bury myself in someone else. It’s always been you.

“And I love you no matter how many times I slap your face, call you a bastard or insult your prowess in bed.” You huff, laughing at yourself. “I’ve - I kept all our photos together. They are in the attic but I couldn’t get rid of them.” You confess. “I couldn’t get rid of you.”

Dieter smiles, leaning closer to you. “Can I kiss you?” He asks softly and you nod, looking into those dark brown eyes. He brushes his lips against yours, cupping your cheek, and he sighs when your lips meet his, eager to kiss him. It’s like coming home after being away for so damn long.

****

The front door opens and Robin just lights up, fully aware of what that means as he drops the toys in his hands and screams, “Daddy!”, as loud as he can. The joy blooming over his face as Dieter rushes through the door and throws his keys down into the bowl on the entryway table. You smile as your son can’t quite speed over to his daddy on steady legs but Dieter is the one who is running into the living room to scoop Robin up into a big hug.

“There’s my boy.” There’s kissing and squealing as your heart stops when Dieter tosses Robin up in the air. Of course he catches him, but you always worry.

“How was your day?” You ask, standing up to quickly pick up the living room of the toys since dinner was already in the oven. Dieter had moved back in almost immediately and true to his word, he had changed completely to put you and your son first.

“Boring as ‘shit’.” He mouths the curse word, “director is being an ‘asshole’ who wants us to produce the world's most expensive movie.” Dieter rolls his eyes, knowing his new job as a producer was hard but it kept him in town and allowed him to have normal working hours to be with his family while still allowing him to indulge in his passion and career. “Hey buddy. You been good for your mama today?” Dieter asks Robin, who wraps his arms around his father to hug him. “How’s he been?” Dieter asks you, knowing the little boy can be too much to handle sometimes.

“Energetic.” You laugh. “I’m really thinking that we need to get a playset in the backyard soon.” You tell Dieter. “He’s always wanting to go to the park and spend all day.” There’s a park down the road, but maybe a set away from the pool would be a good idea. “But he was really good.”

“We can order you a play set, huh little man? Daddy will order it tomorrow and set it up.” Dieter has discovered he’s surprisingly handy. Robin cheers and Dieter grins, kissing his son’s cheek. “Come on bud, I gotta say hello to mama.” He sets the little boy down and he smirks as he walks over to you, cupping your cheeks. “Hi, Mrs. Bravo.” He coos, pressing his lips to yours while Robin rushes over to grab his toy car.

“Hi.” You grin at your husband, having renewed your legal commitment to each other quietly at the courthouse a few months ago. He had wanted to make sure that adding him to Robin’s birth certificate went well and you didn’t want to deny him. Pulling back, you wrap your arms around his neck and look at him lovingly. “I’m happy you’re home.” You coo softly.

“Me too baby. Listen…” He trails his fingers along your arm, “it’s our wedding anniversary this Friday. I booked our usual suite at the Beverly and your mom said she would come and stay the night to look after Robin…what do you say sweetheart? Wanna recreate our sexy times?” He murmurs, kissing along your neck.

You whimper, knowing it would be nice to have sex without worrying about waking Robin up. “Let’s do it. Are you ready to hate fuck me, baby?” You tease and Dieter smirks, “I love hate fucking you, baby. Always have.” He winks and pulls you close, relieved to have his wife back in his arms, to have his son laughing as he plays with his toy truck. Dieter was always chasing the next best thing when he was first married to you but now he knows that the best thing was right there all along.

#pedro pascal #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo imagine #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo the bubble

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mountttmase · 1 year

Text

A Mountain To Climb - Chapter Eleven

Note - this was my favourite chapter to write so I hope you love it 🥰 I’d love to know you thoughts so please do let me know and thank you all so much for all your support on this series it’s honestly blown my mind 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 4.6k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut & angst

Masterlist

You were on the hunt for a specific lip liner and you were pretty sure you knew where it was. The bag Mason had dropped off all those weeks ago still sat by your door as you were unable to bring yourself to unpack it. You were meeting Sophia for a quick coffee as you’d taken Thursday and Friday off of work so you could treat yourself to a long weekend and she’d been messaging you about meeting up all week as she was going back to Germany for a few days.

In the end you told yourself to get over it, taking the bag into your room and unpacking it quickly as your makeup bag was on the bottom. You were almost there when your hand grabbed a plastic package and you took it out with a confused expression on your face. Your name was printed in the front with nothing else so you ripped into it quickly, curiosity getting the better of you as you couldn’t face going out and not knowing what it was.

You knew exactly what it was before you’d even got it out of the bag, the blue colour familiar to you instantly and you let out a small laugh as you held it up to reveal Masons name and number on the back of the Chelsea shirt he’d promised you. A small piece of paper was attached to the front by some tape and you carefully removed it before reading it.

Sorry it’s late, I tried getting you one with Kepa’s name on the back but was told it’s impossible so you’ll unfortunately have to put up with mine. I can’t wait to see you wear it next time you’re at the Bridge.

Lots of love

Mason xxx

You let out a short sharp breath after you’d finished reading before reading it again and then a third time. He’d clearly snuck this in the night you went to Bens and your eyes stung when you held it up again.

‘Stop crying’ you whispered to yourself with a laugh, placing the shirt down on your bed before hunting for the thing you went into your bag for in the first place. You knew you’d be late now but you rushed as quickly as you could to meet Sophia. You found her inside her favourite cafe with a small suitcase next to her and you quickly ordered before joining her.

She thankfully kept the conversation Mason free and even though you’d never discussed it with her you gathered she knew something had happed as her and Kai told each other everything and the more she avoided the topic the more you wanted to talk about him until you finally cave and asked.

‘If you don’t know then it’s fine, but do you know how Mason is?’ You asked quietly and she gave you a small smile to let you know it was okay. ‘I’ve tried to not look into anything but I just wanted to check he’s doing alright’

‘Honestly? He not been fantastic. I haven’t really heard from him but Kai said he seemed a bit brighter yesterday. In fact a loads of them are having a boys night tonight so I’m kinda glad I’ll be out of the country so I won’t have to deal with Kai’ she laughed as she rolled her eyes before her phone started ringing. It turned out to be the taxi she’d ordered for the airport and after a quick goodbye she was gone.

Rather than head straight home, you went to the park nearby and sat with your thoughts for the first time in a long time. You knew you wanted to speak to Mason but you had no idea how to go about it. In the end you pulled out your phone and typed up a message for him but you couldn’t seem to get the words right. Finally giving up and going home after about half an hour of trying.

Friday morning you’d set aside for a lie in. You didn’t get them very often but you’d been looking forward to it for weeks. Waking up on your own without the sound of your alarm felt like heaven and when you checked to see the time it was coming up to half nine which made you smile.

The five missed calls and a few texts from an unknown number made you curious though and you quickly read over the texts to see what was happening.

Your heart sunk as you read over what Ben had said, an uncomfortable churning in your tummy at the thought of him wanting you around in his drunken state and you just wanted to wrap him up and tell him he’s alright. You contemplated calling Ben but you knew you’d probably talk yourself out of it so you sent him a quick text and got yourself ready to go as fast as you could.

It was just over an hour later when you text Ben to let him know you were outside and he was soon pulling the door open, giving you a small smile at the sight of you.

‘Thank you for coming’ he whispered, holding the door open for you and you were shocked at the scene in front of you. Cups and rubbish strewn across the floor, different bits of furniture moved about and the whole place just felt like a giant mess. ‘Don’t worry about all this, Masons gonna call a cleaner when he gets up’ he told you and you gave him a curious look. ‘You can go wake him up if you want’

‘It’s fine I’ll wait. You can head off Ben, thanks for getting a hold of me’

‘It’s fine. Thanks for being here, I know he’ll appreciate it’ he nodded before he was out the door.

You couldn’t face sitting here in all this junk so you made your way to his kitchen and rummaged around to find some bin bags so you could make a start on tidying up. Once the hallway was put to rights you made a start on the living room and soon enough you were five bags deep and at the end of the roll. Figuring he must have some more in the cupboard you stood on a chair to so you could look higher up but they were just out of reach still, casing you to reach up onto you tiptoes and just as you placed a finger on them you lost your balance and tumbled to the floor, landing awkwardly on your wrist as you yelped out in pain.

‘Shit shit shit’ you whispered and ten seconds after you heard someone running down the stairs. You didn’t have time to think about seeing Mason properly for the first time in a month before he was standing in his kitchen doorway, dressed only in his boxers as he tried to fathom what was going on in-front of him.

‘Y/n? What are you doing here? Are you alright, what happened?’

‘I was trying to clean up’ you told him as he crouched down next to you. ‘I couldn’t reach the bags and I fell off the chair’

‘Are you hurt?’

‘My wrist is a bit’ you whispered as he placed your good arm around his shoulder and scooped you up before carrying you to his sofa. ‘I said my wrist, Mason. That doesn’t stop me from walking’ you squealed but he didn’t listen to you, just carefully placed you on the seat before running back off to the kitchen.

He came back moments later with a bag of frozen peas that he’d wrapped in a towel and after placing a cushion on your lap he popped your wrist onto it gently before laying the peas on top.

‘Just keep this here a sec yeah? I won’t be long’ he told you before going upstairs. You laid you head back and shut your eyes, taking some deep breaths as the pain eased ever so slightly. You were so in your own head you didn’t realise he was back until he was sitting next to you, now dressed in shorts and a hoodie as he placed some bandages on the coffee table. ‘Can I see?’ he whispered and you nodded as he gently removed the bag away from your hand.

Your wrist was a little swollen but you could wriggle your fingers without any pain which seemed to satisfy him but he insisted on wrapping it up for you, gently apologising every time you hissed or yelped in pain.

‘Are you sure nothing else hurts?’ He asked, securing the bandage at the end but you could only nod your head as you knew your voice would wobble. Once he was happy with his handy work he placed your hand back onto the cushion and looked up into your eyes. You knew they were glassy and he’d be able to read you straight away so you moved towards him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug you knew the pair of you so desperately needed.

He was shocked at first, but it didn’t take long for him to pull you closer and slot his head into your neck. The pair of you didn’t utter a word to each other as you sat there in a tight embrace, your good hand reaching up into his hair so you could scratch over his scalp lightly and you felt him melt into you even more. The only noise in the room was the sound of each others breathing until you built up the courage to pull back and look at him, his own eyes now full of tears making your heart break even more. You took a big gulp before speaking, your voice quite and wobbly.

‘I think we should talk’ you whispered and he nodded sadly. ‘There’s some stuff I need to tell you that I want you to know. You know I said It’ll explain a lot’ you you him with a little laugh and he gave you a sad smile.

‘Only if you’re sure’

‘I’m sure’ you told him and he shuffled down on the seat, placing a cushion down flat so it looked like a pillow.

‘Will you lay down with me? My heads thumping’ He told you nervously and you gave him a small smile before nodding. The pair of you laid down with your heads on the cushion, your hands automatically resting on his chest and as much as he tried to hide a smile, you could tell he was happy that you’d initiated some physical contact and he tentatively placed his arm around you waist. Even though you had a sweatshirt on you could feel him lightly tracing shapes on your back which settled you instantly. You wanted to tell him you missed him but you were trying to hold it together so you could talk to him.

‘I only ever speak to Freya about this stuff, I’ve never really got it all out in one go’ you muttered, warning him just in case you muddled your words but you could tell by his eyes that you were in safe hands.

‘It’s okay. Just take your time and if you don’t wanna tell me then you don’t have to’ he whispered and it took everything inside of you not to lean over and kiss him.

‘Do you remember that day we went for a walk?’

‘The day where you wore a red jumper and I accidentally insulted you?’ He joked and you let out a little laugh.

‘That’s the one’ you chuckled ‘you told me about your family and stuff and I felt so embarrassed about mine that I lied. My life was nothing like yours growing up’

‘That’s okay, I never want you to feel embarrassed about anything like that. I know not everyone grew up like I did’ he reassured you and you gave him a thankful smile before your hand moved up to his jaw, stroking over his stubble lightly out of habit and you watched him give you and adoring look. Even though you were comfortable as you were, you didn’t feel close enough to him so you shuffled forward, tangling your legs in between his as if the touch if his body on yours would give you the courage to speak.

‘Well it was just the three of us growing up. I never had any siblings or loads of extended family like it was literally just my parents and me. That’s all I ever knew. Then, when I was 12 I came home from school one day and my dad was gone. I didn’t think anything of it at first cause he was always the last one in but when it got to bed time and he still wasn’t there I asked what was going on and my mum told me he didn’t live with us anymore. She didn’t tell me why for a while but in the end I found out he’d been having an affair and he left us to start a new life with his other family’ you told him calmly and you felt him sigh next to you.

‘I’m so sorry, that sounds awful’ he whispered and you gave him a sad smile.

‘Yeah it wasn’t great, when you’re that old stuff like that sticks you know? Things were never the same after that. My mum didn’t help, I think I reminded her too much of him and she didn’t like being around me that much’

‘Well that’s her loss’ he mumbled before placing a quick kiss on your forehead which made you shiver.

‘Then, when I was 14 I got my first boyfriend. His name was Max and he was a boy in my class I’d had a crush on for ages. We were together all the time and I think it really pissed Freya and Maddie off at first’

‘Who’s Maddie?’ He asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

‘My other best friend’

‘I didn’t know you had another one’

‘You’ll find out why’ you laughed and this time he laughed along with you. ‘Me and Max we’re together for seven years in total, his family was basically like mine and when I turned 17 they let me move in for a while so we could save up and get our own place. We had all these plans for our future…’ you trailed off and he pulled you in even tighter is that was possible.

‘Y/n please don’t get upset, you don’t have to do this’

‘No I’m fine. Honestly’ you told him, and with one final deep breath you finished your story. ‘It was my birthday and we’d all gone out to this club in London, I came out from the loo and could hear Millie giggling from behind the door that lead outside. I was curious so I followed the sound thinking I could tease her about whoever she was with but that’s when I heard Max’s voice. She was asking when he was gonna finally break up with me so they could be together properly and he told her soon. I didn’t give him the chance and ended it there and then. Turns out it had been going on for a year and I haven’t spoken to the two of them since’

‘Come here’ he whispered, and you didn’t realise you were crying until your head hit his neck and you felt the warm tears press onto your skin. The arm that you were laying on reached up so he could stroke your head whilst his other hand traveled under your top, stroking the bare skin of your back as he tried to offer you some comfort. ‘That sucks y/n I’m so fucking sorry’ he whispered into your hair and you nodded into his neck before pulling back ever so slightly.

‘I know it’s not an excuse, but when stuff like that happens to you twice you start to think it was your fault. Like everything I touch I seem to ruin’

‘None of that was your fault. People are shit sometimes and I’m so sorry that’s happened to you but please don’t blame yourself’

‘It’s why I didn’t want to let anyone else in, I didn’t want to feel like that again’ you hiccuped as he stroked up and down your back gently.

‘I know sweetheart’ he whispered, kissing your forehead and you felt yourself relax at his touch again. ‘I get it okay. I really do. Thank you for telling me’

‘Feels kinda nice to get it off my chest’ you whispered, already feeling lighter about not having to hide any part of yourself from him anymore and he smiled at you warmly. ‘I’m not done yet though’

‘Oh?’

‘That day you came over with my bag, and I shouted at you? Well I was on the phone to Freya when you knocked. She called me to ask if I was okay since she’d figured I’d seen something’

‘Seen what?’ He asked, his face scrunched up with confusion and all you wanted was to kiss his worry lines away.

‘Max and Millie got engaged. I saw it on instagram just before I answered the door’ you told him and you felt him sigh under your fingers. ‘I was so angry. Angry at them, angry about what I’d done to you and I just lost it. I know it’s not right but-‘

‘You don’t have to explain, y/n. I completely get it. I should of knocked a bit earlier I was standing outside your door for about ten minutes, I’m surprised no one complained about me’ he laughed and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

‘I’m not angry about it anymore. Why should I be? They both did a horrible thing and they’re welcome to each other. I guess I’m just annoyed they got their happy ending and I haven’t got mine’ you told him and he was smiling at you almost softly. ‘But I am sorry for what I did to you, and I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you at my house. You didn’t deserve any of that and you were right. Just because they were shit to me doesn’t mean I get to do it to you. I really am so sorry Mase’

‘I mean I shouted at you too’ he admitted and you watched the guilt wash over his face. ‘Im really sorry, I can’t believe I said all that’

‘I understand. I know I’m frustrating and I was awful to you. I only said all that stuff cause I knew it would hurt you and then maybe you could move on from me. I don’t want you to just brush it away like it’s fine cause I know it’s not’

‘I’m not, I just don’t want you to beat yourself up about it. I know you’ve felt bad about things but I’ve been feeling pretty awful about what I said too. We can’t change it but I’d love it if we could move on from it’

‘Yeah? I’d really like that’ you smiled and he gave you a sad smile back.

‘I’m sorry you saw me the other night and thought I was on a date too. I’ve been a bit of a grump for weeks and Bens sister was in town so a few of us went out but I get how you got to that conclusion and it wasn’t nice to see but I’d never do that to you’

‘I know’ you smiled, caressing his cheek to let it know everything was fine and by the way he settled into your touch he looked like he believed it.

‘I didn’t mean any of it at all, I just thought we were finally there you know? That i’d worn you down’ he laughed.

‘That we’d finally climbed the mountain?’ You whispered and he looked at you in confusion . ‘That day after Bens when we came back here and I napped on your sofa? I heard you on the phone saying you felt like you had a mountain to climb with me’ you told him with a smile and he laughed as he tried to hide his face.

‘I mean yeah, It did feel a bit like that. It knew it was going to be hard work, and I needed to be patient and keep going but once I got to the top I knew the view would be worth it and I’d get to see things that no one else would see’ he whispered and your whole body erupted in goosebumps at his sweet words

‘And how’s it looking from up there’ you joked as he tickled your back lightly.

‘Beautiful. So fucking beautiful you have no idea’ he breathed, his eyes flickering all over your face and you felt your chest grow warm as he looked at you with loving eyes.

‘I think I might’ you whispered, as the tears that were threatening to fall overflowed from your eyes and before you knew it your lips were on his.

You were both needy for each other, but you kept your kisses soft, knowing full well you’d have ample time to make up for the lost weeks. His tongue invaded your mouth almost instantly as it brushed up against your own and you could feel his heart hammering in his chest under your fingertips which made you smile knowing he was just as nervous as you.

You’d never had a kiss like this before and when he eventually pulled away the pair of you laid there out of breath and looking at each other full of shock.

‘Can I just check? You did come here to tell me that you want this right? Cause if you’re about to end everything after you just kissed me like that then I will go absolutely crazy’ he told you and you burst out laughing at his serious face.

‘I want this, I promise. I’m not gonna lie and say it’ll all be easy from here like I know I’ve still got stuff to work on but I don’t wanna do it on my own anymore. I like you, a lot more than I’ve ever really liked anyone and I just really don’t wanna loose you’

‘You’ve got me’ he whispered, a tiny smile flickering over his face to match yours. ‘You’ve had me from the second I walked out of my hotel room and found you outside’ he laughed and you cringed at the memory. ‘I thought you were a deranged fan at first’

‘Who says I wasn’t? Maybe this whole thing was just a ploy to make you mine’ you laughed and he tickled your back gently as you both laughed.

‘Well I’ll happily be yours’ he whispered and you felt your heart thud in your chest as he looked at you. ‘I want us to stick together and work through this, yeah? That doesn’t mean we have to put labels on anything just yet but I want you to know I’m here for you and when you’re ready to take the next step I’ll be ready too’

‘Why?’ You laughed, almost astounded at the way he spoke about you and cared for you. ‘I’ve been awful to you when you think about it’

‘Maybe I like a challenge’ he winked and you laughed whilst rolling your eyes. ‘I guess I thought we’d come so far from where we first started that I wasn’t willing to give up without a little bit of a fight and if that means giving you time then so be it. Yeah, I won’t lie it was a rocky start and I did wonder what’s the point sometimes but I’ve felt this pull to you from day one. Remember that first night we stayed at Bens? I couldn’t sleep for ages I just laid there and watched you and thought about how lucky I was that you’d come into my life. You’re smart, and cheeky and you’re kind when you want to be’ he winked and you rolled your eyes as he kissed your cheek ‘you’re also the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen’

‘I think you’re pretty too’ you giggled and he laughed as a deep blush crept over his cheeks.

‘If you’d let me, I’d like to be your happy ending’ he whispered almost shyly and you lent over to kiss his nose.

‘I’d like that a lot’ you whispered back, gripping onto him and you both giggled like little kids.

‘You got plans for the rest of the day?’ He asked, fingers still dancing over your back.

‘No, I was planning on sitting around and doing nothing’ you laughed. ‘Would you care to join me?’

‘The thought of doing nothing with you sounds better than doing anything with someone else’ he winked and you fake gagged as he tapped you on the bum in fake annoyance. ‘How did you get in by the way?’

‘Chilly text me, said you kept asking for me last night and asked if I could come over’

‘Of course he did’ Mason blushed as he tried to remember what he’d said last night.

‘You look like shit by the way, how much did you drink?’ You asked, gently stroking the bags under his eyes before you placed a soft kiss on the end of his nose.

‘Enough’ he laughed as you stroked his cheek, closing his eyes as he was enjoying the gentle feel of your fingers on his skin.

‘Why don’t I make you something to eat? Then we can have a nap?’ you asked and he nodded up at you shyly.

‘You’re the best’ he sighed pulling you into him even tighter as he pressed a few kisses against your neck. ‘But we can order something, I don’t want you hurting your hand anymore than it already is’ he told you leaning down to leave a gentle kiss over the bandage.

‘You’re lucky I don’t sue’ you winked before he pulled you up so he could grab his phone to see what he could order.

‘Oh yeah? What do you want? I’ll give it to you right now’ he laughed and you pointed to you cheek in hopes he would kiss it. It didn’t take much for him to lean over and place a delicate kiss to your cheek before gently gripping your chin so you were facing him. You watched his eyes flicker all over your face before they landed on your lips and he bought you in for a kiss just as soft. ‘That one’s free’ he winked before opening up his phone, leaving you looking down at him with a smile. Thankful that today had gone the way you’d hoped.

Tagged: @alwaysclassyeagle @ricsaigaslec @cinderellawithashoe @vip-access @majx00 @chelseagirl98 @mountpulisic @chaotic-taco-collector-blog

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matttgirlies · 26 days

Text

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - drug use,, sexual refrences

y/nn = your nickname for anyone confused🩷

Chapter 7

The day before I was to leave for Germany, Matt took me aside and said, “Baby, as much as I hate to say it, we’re gonna have to face it. Our time is up.” I broke down and hung onto him tightly, burying my head in his chest.

“I’m not leaving,” I said, sobbing. “I’m not leaving you. I’ll call my parents and say I missed the plane.”

“C’mon, Baby. You think they’re gonna fall for that?”

“Then I’ll tell them the truth: that I love you and that I won’t come back.”

“Hey, hey.” He was trying to calm me. “You’re just gonna make it worse for the next time. I’ve been thinkin’, I always wanted you to see Graceland. But right now, I’ve got some business to take care of in Boston for a few weeks, and then I’ve gotta do another film. So if you go back and do well in school and behave yourself, maybe your parents will let you spend Christmas at Graceland with me and my family.”

I loved the idea, but Christmas was six months away. Anything could happen between now and then.

That night in bed Matt held me very close for a long time. I felt that he was doing more than just comforting me. He was telling me how deeply he cared.

And more than that: His deep belief in consummating our love affair only in marriage gave me hope for the future.

Later, our lovemaking had more feeling and intensity than ever before. Matt wasn’t going to let me go home without my taking a little of him with me. He didn’t enter me; he didn’t have to. He fulfilled my every desire.

“I want you back the way you are now,” he whispered just before dawn. “And remember, I’ll always know.”

I smiled and nodded. I couldn’t conceive of wanting anyone but him.

Matt didn’t walk me into the airport. We kissed goodbye in the limousine. It was a tender but excruciatingly brief moment. I didn’t think the pain could have been greater even if he told me I’d never return.

I walked onto the plane like a robot. I was in a daze that lasted throughout the eleven hour flight. I talked to no one and didn’t care who saw the tears constantly streaming down my face. My world had come to an abrupt end. Finally I closed my eyes and in my mind I relived every moment of my visit. Suddenly the stewardess was telling us to fasten our seat belts for the landing. The thought of freshening up before we arrived never occurred to me. I just sat in a daze, waiting for the plane to taxi to a stop. Then I listlessly gathered up my things and made my way out.

When I first saw my parents, my mother was crying with joy at seeing me and my father was wearing a big welcome-home smile. But as I came nearer, their expressions changed from delight to absolute horror. My father turned away angrily. For a moment my mother just stared. Then she reached into her purse, pulled out a mirror, and thrust it at me.

“Look at yourself! How could you walk off the plane like that?”

I glanced at myself in the mirror and immediately understood their response. Two weeks before, I had left them, a fresh-faced sixteen-year-old, wearing a suitable white cotton suit and innocent of anything but a touch of mascara. Now, not only was I wearing the heavy makeup that Matt liked, but my tears had smeared it all over my face. I hadn’t bothered to lift a comb to my hair, which was unkept and tangled. My parents were shocked and disappointed.

Too embarrassed to look at them, I put my hand to my face and nonchalantly tried to wipe off the residue of black mascara and liner. Then I said, ‘I’d like to go to the ladies’ room.”

“You’re going straight home,” my father snapped. “If you left it on this long, you might as well keep it on another hour.” He hardly said another word to me until we got home and I washed my face.

Christmas in the family was always a major production, but Christmas 1962 was one time I wasn’t concerned about presents. I was bound for the place that I had often dreamed about but never let myself believe that I would actually see—Graceland.

Getting there hadn’t been easy. The plotting and scheming had started one morning at 2:10 a.m., when I had sleepily answered the phone to hear Matt’s voice. He seemed in great spirits. Laughing and joking, he told me that RCA had sent him some horrible demo records for his next movie. “I’m listening to ’em, Baby, and I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I have to laugh because if I don’t, I’ll start cryin’.”

I chuckled sympathetically, but I could hear the sadness in his voice. Then he said softly, “Little Girl, I want you here for Christmas. I don’t care how you arrange it or what you have to tell your parents. I’ll go along with anything you say, as long as you get here.”

I was shaking as I hung up the phone. I couldn’t imagine my parents allowing me to leave again—especially at Christmas—but there was no way I was going to let him down.

After a few days of silently avoiding the subject, I casually brought up Matt’s request to my mother.

“Absolutely not,” she declared. “It’s out of the question. Christmas is for the family. That’s the way it’s always been and it’s not going to change—not even for Matt Sturniolo.”

I wouldn’t give up. My poor mother was torn between making a dream come true for her daughter and doing what was right as a parent.

“When will this end?” she murmured with an anguished expression. Finally she agreed to speak to my father.

That was the breakthrough.

Again the pleas. Again the promises.

One month later, I was on a flight bound for the United States. Matt had asked James and Angela to meet me at La Guardia Airport in New York and escort me to Boston because he didn’t want me to travel alone.

By the time we reached Boston, I was both exhausted and exhilarated. We went to James’s home on Hamilton Drive, a short distance from Graceland. Matt had left explicit instructions that only he could drive me through the gates of Graceland.

A few minutes after we arrived, he called. His father handed me the phone. Before I could say two words, Matt blurted he was on his way. Minutes later the door flew open and I was in his arms.

Graceland was everything Matt had said it would be. The front lawn was adorned with a nativity scene and the white columns of the mansion were ablaze with holiday lights. It was one of the most beautiful sights I’d ever laid eyes on.

Inside the mansion a crowd of Matt’s friends and relatives all stood waiting to greet me. I felt relaxed and comfortable as he introduced me to everyone, because I had already met several of his friends when I was in Los Angeles.

Then Matt said, “y/nn, there’s someone special who’s waiting for you.” With a smile, he led me up the stairs and opened the door to his grandmother’s room.

“Dodger,” he called out. “Look who’s here. It’s little y/nn. She’s come a long way, Dodger, to be with little us.”

Using endearing terms like “little us” was his way of being affectionate. His mother had raised him on this sweet talk and Matt spoke it with those he cherished.

Dodger smiled and greeted me in her soft voice. “Good God, child, it took you a long time to get here.”

She was sitting in a high-backed overstuffed chair. I leaned over and she gave me a hug and patted me on the back. I was delighted at how good Dodger was looking, her hair, once completely gray, was now a natural looking dark brown. I noticed she wasn’t as thin as she’d been in Germany. At 18 Hauptstrasse, Dodger had presided over a busy household; at Graceland she had withdrawn to her room.

After Matt left us alone, I could tell something was bothering her and asked, “Grandma, how has everything been with you?” She looked at me and then down at the lace handkerchief in her lap.

“I don’t know, Hon. I’m worried about Matt and James. Matt is still upset over his Daddy’s marriage.” James and Angela had gotten married a year earlier. “He don’t spend much time at Graceland anymore and his Daddy’s worried. I hate to see the two of ’em upset like that. Lord have mercy. Matt didn’t go to the weddin’, you know. Matt is tryin’ hard, but when she comes over he just gets up and leaves the room. I don’t know if he’ll ever accept it.”

She reached for her snuffbox. It was an endearing habit that she tried to keep secret.

“But I don’t want you to go worrying about it,” she continued. “You go off and have a good time with Matt. That young’un needs you now.”

I nodded and kissed her cheek. “I promise I’ll take care of him, Dodger,” I said, feeling guilty leaving her. She worried too much, just as all the Sturniolo’s did. It was contagious.

She laughed softly and said with a smile, “Ain’t no one ever called me that but Matt.”

All that night, the guys played pool, watched TV, and hung around the kitchen badgering Pauline (“VO5”) while she played short-order cook.

I realized that there was no set routine at Graceland. Everyone came and went as they pleased. It wasn’t a home, but rather an open house, available to the guys and their dates all with Matt’s approval, of course.

The evening ended around 4 a.m., when Matt finally said good night to everyone and took my hand. I was really exhausted since, in anticipation of the trip, I hadn’t slept for two days. As I walked up the white-carpeted staircase, I closed my eyes and wished I was already in bed.

In his room, Matt gave me two large red pills, explaining, “Take these now, and by the time you come to bed, you’ll be nice and relaxed.” I really didn’t need anything, but he insisted, saying that they would help me sleep better and were a little stronger than what I’d taken before.

I didn’t recognize them. They were larger than I’d ever taken before. You’d have to be a horse to get these down, I thought, but I reluctantly swallowed them.

I went into the dressing room to bathe, and as I sank into the tub, my head settled on the edge. My arm was so heavy I could barely raise my hand; my eyelids seemed weighted. But I felt good and kind of silly.

The longer I soaked, the less energy I had and I only barely managed to get out of the tub. Trying to focus on the bed, I staggered over to where Matt was lying. Then I collapsed.

After that, I was occasionally awakened by the sound of distant voices. One time, I thought I saw Matt whispering to me. Another time I saw his father. I didn’t know if I was dreaming or hallucinating, but when I closed my eyes I could feel the room spinning around.

Then I felt a soft hand gently rubbing and patting my arm. “y/n? y/n? Hon, it’s Grandma, you all right?” Slowly I tried to lift my head, but it was too heavy and it fell back down.

“What’d you give this young’un?” I heard someone say. “You got no business givin’ her something she’s not used to. Son, maybe we ought to call a doctor. She’s in bad shape. I don’t think we should take any chances.”

I managed to focus my half-closed eyes on Matt and gave him a wink and a giddy grin.

He said, “Hell no, we’re not callin’ any doctor. Look, she’s comin’ to.”

Kneeling beside me, he held up my head, and I saw that I wasn’t in his room but lying on the white chaise lounge in his office, which adjoined the bedroom.

“What am I doing here?”

“I walked you in here after the first day,” he answered in a concerned tone. “We were trying to revive you.”

“But I just went to bed,” I said, slurring my words.

“Baby, you had us all scared. You’ve been out for two days on two goddamn five hundred-milligram Placidyls. Must have been out of my head giving them to you that way.”

“Two days! That’s two days off my trip. What’s today?”

“December twenty-third.”

“Oh no.”

“Don’t worry. We still have plenty of time.” He smiled at me and said, “I promise, Baby, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Merry Christmas,” Matt said proudly, handing me a honey-colored six-week-old puppy.

“Oh, Matt. He’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, and the smallest.” I gave Matt a big hug and heard a muffled yelp between us. “Oh, Honey!” I said. “I’m sorry.” I had unwittingly just named the pup Honey.

It was Christmas Eve. Matt had prayed for a white Christmas and—as if on cue—that night three full inches of snow fell.

The gathering around the tree included James and Angela, her three sons—David, Ricky, and Billy—the entourage and their wives, and a handful of Matt’s other relatives and friends. Everyone was pleasant and made me feel welcome, though it must have seemed strange to see me rather than Nicole sitting beside Matt. Nicole had shared Christmas with him the two previous years. Sometimes I couldn’t help wondering if he missed her. It wasn’t easy for him to let go of people. I knew that.

It was fun watching Matt open gifts. “Just what I needed, another jewelry box,” he quipped, unwrapping the fourth one of the evening. He looked over at Gene Smith, one of the few people who could consistently make Matt laugh.

“You give me this, Gene?” he asked.

Gene mumbled, “Naw, M, I didn’t give it to you.”

Then Matt reconsidered. “On second thought, I don’t guess you did, Gene. It’s got too much taste.”

“Ah, M, how can you say that?” Gene was mumbling in his slow Southern drawl.

“Easy.” Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Just look at you, Gene, a living example of ba-a-a-d taste.”

Pretending to be insulted, Gene walked away scratching his head, as everyone laughed.

Although there were lots of jokes, I sensed a sadness in Matt’s look as our eyes met, and I couldn’t help recalling what he’d once said to me in Germany: “Christmas just won’t be the same at Graceland without Mom. It’ll be hard for me, and I don’t know if I can bear the loneliness. But I guess I’ll manage. God will give me the strength somehow.”

“Oh, look, Matt,” I said, trying to distract him with a large, colorfully wrapped present. “Here’s one more you forgot to open.” It was my own gift to him, a musical cigarette case, which I’d purposely saved for last. I held my breath as he unwrapped it.

He opened the box and it began to play “Love Me Tender.”

“I love it! I really do, y/nn. Thank you.”

There was a twinkle in his eyes, and I wished I could always make him this happy.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - longgg chapter again🎀

#matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturn #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #Spotify

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