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#if that makes sense? I promise I am not trying to make excuses or anything but I’m just trying to get my thoughts out

wolfythewitch · 7 days

Note

what reason would you give someone for them to convert to christianity? /gen i’m very curious to hear your answer as an atheist(?) going to a catholic school where every chapel boils down to ‘jesus can solve all your problems’. hope this isn’t taken in an offensive way, i’m genuinely curious what reasons people have!

See I don't really want to convert anyone to Christianity? Nor am I looking to. Need to make that clear before I continue.

A lot of people believe in a god because it offers to them a sense of comfort. Some people do it because they genuinely believe in a higher power. Religion is a very personal thing, you can't really boil it down one way or another. That's why any church who tries to tell you why to believe in God, well they might get some people but they won't get all. Believe in Jesus cannot solve all your problems. Or, well. I'm sure he can. But you will still hurt and life is a bitch. You can't reel people in with the promise of a perfect Christian life because then people will be sorely disappointed.

And. That's not even really getting into how corrupt a lot of the churches are out there. Unfortunately the problem with any organized religion is belief in a higher power can only go so far when any institution acting as its mouthpiece is human. The language of the gods tends to get a little mistranslated along the way. And then hypocrisy starts wading into the mix. And people like to use god to excuse their own actions.

And I mean I don't even really know why I'm religious. It could be many things. I've said before my relationship with faith is complicated. It could be guilt making me stay. It could be my parents converting me at a young age. It could be because I do believe there's a higher power out there. It could be because it's easier. Who knows? But my reasons will not be your reasons.

I'm not trying to dissuade you or anything haha but. Well. If you're ever thinking about converting, you can get a second opinion, join a community, go to Sunday church, but you can only ever really ask yourself why

#raspb3rryyyyy #wolfy tedtalks #wolfy religious tedtalks #this mightve gone a little off topic sorry HAHA #im npt saying dont go to church #community is important!#but you also have to think about that community critically #whats worse than going to hell? going to hell in jesus' name

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nrdmssgs · 9 months

Text

Kissing König on the forehead

Masterlist Kissing Ghost on the forehead Kissing Price on the forehead

TW: mentions of social anxiety

His life consists of you. Literally: you have become the measure of everything. There are no more 'Fridays' or 'Novembers' - there are days, weeks and months, until he sees you again. No more rooms in his house - there is a wall to which he pressed his back, giving you more space to pass by, when he first saw you. There is a stove where you burned your fingers, making his heart ache when he saw your tears for the first time. There is a window, by which he fell on his knees and frantically stroked and kissed your hands, after he heard your timid confession. Anything beautiful he witnessed, anything meaningful he heard or read, made sense, only when he thought, how would he share it with you.

König knows, It's too much, his eagerness to be by your side constantly, his hunger for your touch, his feelings - he is too much. And he is afraid, so terribly and utterly afraid, that one day you see it too and leave him. So he restrains himself, tries to be less vocal, clasps his hands around his elbows to not hug you every minute, he is around. König carefully plans every conversation, you two will have, when he is back from deployment. Sometimes these imaginary chats end good, other times - you yell at him, but what is even worse - you cry. Your tears, even ones, he imagines pain him so badly - he immediately takes out his phone and texts you.

"I am so sorry, Schatz."

He snaps back to reality only when he gets your worried answer. Of course, you get scared and want to know, what happened. So he has to come up with some excuse.

"I am sorry for not being right now with you. I know, it's evening back at home, and you are probably watching some show, and I remember, how you like cuddling, while doing it. I'm sorry for not being there."

König finally puts the phone away, hissing at himself for this episode.

When he finally returns, you refuse to wait for him at home and come straight to the station. He allows himself to squeeze you in his arms, but deep inside his head, König counts. "One-two-three-four-five-it's time to let her go, you can't just stand there and embarrass her with your tenderness in front of everyone. You are becoming too much once again."

You interrupt his inner tirade. "Let's go home, love."

An entrance door shuts behind his back, and he finally takes a deep breath in, feeling the familiar scents of your shared house. König hears some strange repeating noise, lowers his eyes and notices that you are immersed in the fight with a jamming zipper on your jacket. On the very next moment, he kneels before you, moves your hands away from the zipper and tries to figure it out himself. It takes him a while, because he is afraid to pull too hard, finally destroying the jacket. You look at him warmly and laugh softly. "König don't worry, I can handle it."

At that moment, zipper finally breaks. König frowns.

"You couldn't just mind your business, you idiot? Now she is going to finally see, how overwhelming you are, how you break everything, you care for, how you smother those, who you love. Is that what you wanted?" An angry voice inside his head shouts and silences everything around, including König himself. He doesn't feel his lips starting to tremble, forming some apologetic mumbling. He doesn't hear, when you try to reassure him.

So you take a quick step forward, and embrace him, pressing your lips against his forehead. Maybe that angry voice exists only in his head, but it's not the first time, you witness König tearing himself apart for no reason.

"You are overthinking again, love. But its going to be ok, I promise." Another kiss on his forehead.

"You are not overwhelming to be with, you are not annoying. No." By this time, you know all the terrifying things König's mind whispers and shouts to itself.

"No one is going to get tired and leave you. Especially not me." You kiss his closed eyes, not caring for remains of dark camouflage paint on his skin.

"You are overthinking, and it is ok, because it shows, that you really care. It's not your fault." You press your lips against his face, so that he not only hears, but also feels, what you are saying.

And that silents Königs anxiety and self-doubt. He suddenly feels tired, but endlessly loved. He finally comes back home, pulling you into a long and tight embrace, not counting seconds this time.

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nevieatiny · 5 months

Text

Mrs. Park?

Seonghwa x reader

Summary: Maybe there were different ways to help your boyfriend get a refund, but calling him your "husband" made it sound more dramatic, right?

Word count: 1,449

Genre: Pure fluff

You loved your boyfriend more than anything in the world, you really did, however, something that you hated and you mean HATED about him was that sometimes he was way too nice and struggled to speak up for himself.

You've been doing a lot of christmas shopping recently, and because of that he choose the wrong size when he picked a sweater for his mom, he made you promise you would not intervine this time because he was a "grown man who's able to do a refund by himself" so you did try to look around the store in the mean time, however not even the toy section was able to distract you from that feeling of something going wrong or someone being rude to your boyfriend.

you've worked in customer service for several years, you knew all it took was being nice, but at the same time there was people who just hated being there and would mistreat customers just to make them leave, it was ok if someone did that to you, you knew how to defend yourself and speak up, but some people don't.

So after 15 minutes of your boyfriend not coming back you're heading to see how he's doing at the customer service counter, as you approached the only thing you saw was your poor boyfriend tapping his fingers anxiously against the counter, he was all by himself you assumed he was waiting for the customer service rep.

"Before you shush me away" you said as you were approaching him "i just want to see how you're doing so far, i see that no one's here, so i'm guessing great" you patted his but few times before leaning on him, you were waiting for a lame comeback, but all he did was to lean his head on top of yours and let out a long sigh "how do you do this?" "was it that bad?" that's when he took his phone out looking at the time "she's been gone for more than 10 minutes", you didn't knew how to feel, at first you felt bad for him, he seemed almost sad about it, but after that it was pure rage, why would they do that, you get that christmas and new year could be the toughest time of the year for anyone on customer service, it was 11 am but the place was literally empty.

"Do you want me to take over?" you asked while running your fingers through his hair "i really thought i could do this by myself this time" "yeah but to be fair you choose to do this before christmas, everyone is miserable by now and they just want to go home, most likely they would have to work during christmas, that's not an excuse tho" as you were talking to him you saw a young girl approaching, she might not even be 20, she had a frown on her face and rolled her eyes when she saw you, and at that moment you knew what you were dealing with.

"theres nothing we can you because you bought this 2 weeks ago" she threw the sweater and the receipt on the counter not even looking at you, and before your boyfriend took the clothing piece (most likely as a defeat to just leave right after) you spoke "that literally does not make any sense, when we bought that they said we had a month to get a refund if we keep the receipt" she looked at you for a few seconds before trying to respond before you cut her off "you made my husband wait for 10 minutes just to come up with a stupid excuse to make him leave" Seonghwa looked at you with a surprised expression, he knew what you were doing, but that didn't stopped his heart from beating faster and faster, he took a deep breath to calm himself while he pretended to straighten his clothes with his hands, for a moment he looked down at your hand and he thought about grabbing it, but then he remembered you were kinda busy trying to do what he was not able to.

Maybe you were raising your voice too much because a few seconds later an older man dressed in a expensive suit joined her behind the counter "'I'm sorry ma'am, how can i help you today?" this time your boyfriend spoke behind you, giving him the garment "i'm just trying to get a refund, i choose the wrong size" you knew Seonghwa usually avoided conflicts, but the fact that she let him just waiting like a fool standing there just fueled you anger "My husband kindly came here asking for a refund and your employee left him here waiting for 10 minutes, she went i don't know were and came back with a lame excuse to make him leave, this is unacceptable, do you let your employees treat people like that?, what if he was an elder who had no idea what to do just trying to get a gift for his loved ones?" that's when you felt Seonghwa's hand on your waist gently bringing you closer to him "I'm so sorry to hear that ma'am, and i do apologize for the inconvenience" at this point the girl was standing beside him with her arms crossed "maybe she meant to say that we can give you a refund or you can choose the right size of the same sweater you choose before" he just looked back at the girl with a forced smile, hoping she would not make the situation worst, when she didn't respond you just looked back at him "don't worry, you don't have to apologize, but it's up to my husband" the man behind you passed the last 5 minutes daydreaming, he already had a venue in mind, he was thinking whether the cake should be a classic white cake or maybe he would ask you to let him have a Star Wars themed cake, after that you could go to New Zealand as you've always planned for your honeymoon, or maybe Paris?, no, you've always wanted to go to New Zealand, and since he is for sure insisting on the Star Wars themed wedding that's the least he can do for you, or maybe a lego cake? that would be new, his friends would definitely envy him for that.

"Babe" That's when he realized the three of you were looking at him so you had to repeat the question for him "i think we can pick the right size this time" "of course Sir, that's a great idea, we can wrap it as gift for you as well" the older man looked at the girl this time and asked her to go and get the sweater for you, he didn't had to but when she rolled her eyes you decided she could use a few extra steps "Can you show me your ID to process it on the system please Sir?" your boyfriend seemed off, in the clumsiest way possible he took out his wallet to show his id.

After just a few minutes the employee gave you the gift wrapped up and ready along with your receipt "Again i'm so sorry for the inconvenience Mr. and Mrs. Park, and happy holidays" your boyfriend took the gift and quietly bowed at them before wishing them happy holidays as well, at this point the "Husband" thing was long forgotten to you, but as the two of you walked out of the store you saw your boyfriend looking at the gift as if it was the most interesting thing in the world "you ok?" there were a few seconds of silence before he spoke " I've always feared that you would beat me up to ask you to marry me, but i never thought you would do it in a department store" that's when it hit you, you didn't even asked him if it was ok "i'm sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable, i just thought it sounded more serious, i think i got carried away" "it's okay, you look hot when you're mad" even after developing the ability of have a verbal fight without crying and thinking that you were in control of your emotions this man never failed to make you a blushing mess with the most simple things "aawww, are you blushing right now Mrs Park?" you looked at him clearly not knowing how to react, smiling and frowning at the same time, this action only made Seonghwa kiss you in the middle of the hallway "keep teasing me and next time you would have to call the pizza restaurant yourself"

#ateez angst #ateez au #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez imagine #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa imagines

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dr3c0mix · 7 months

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I immediately apologize for the bad English!

How does Caspian plan to keep the fem!reader underwater? Or does he have another plan? thank you, your work is very nice🛐

ill be making this gn since its a part 2 but if you want a one-off thing with a fem!reader, just request it! :3

Also sorry for the long hiatus again but here's the long awaited part 2 ! yaay you're not dead !! :D

Yandere!Siren x GN Reader Pt. 2

CW: Kidnapping, Slight Stockholm Syndrome, Non-con licking (reader is asleep), idk Caspian being a delulu icon

🌊 You wake up with a throbbing headache and a vague memory of what transpired before you blacked out.

🌊 The feeling of overwhelming pressure and deepness comes back to you, memories start to come back as you see a red mark on your arm.

🌊 You remember now, the screams and cries of your classmates ring in your ears before the memory of being dragged down to the depths hit you like a wave.

🌊 a splash of water pulled you out of your thoughts, it was then you looked around at the place you were in.

🌊 It looked like you were in a cave illuminated by algae and glowing sea creatures. the cavernous area was sandy and a bit wet with a deep pool which led to an underwater tunnel, it was the only entrance and exit to the cave from what you can see.

🌊 Behind you was a house built out of a shipwreck, the broken boards of the deck repaired with random planks and cloths.

🌊 "Honey~ I know you're a bit out of sorts right now but uhm..could you help me out a bit~?" a familiar voice echoed throughout the cave.

🌊 You gasp and instinctively stand up and back away from where the voice came from. Caspian was lying on the shore, a net full of what seems to be canned food and fish tied around his waist like a satchel.

🌊 "My treasure~! I know you're excited to explore your new home, but can you help me get to shore first~" Caspian coos as he smiles at you awkwardly, his large tail flopping on the sand.

🌊 You grab a piece of driftwood and hold it like a weapon. "D-Don't come any closer!" you yell at him nervously, afraid of what he might do after you saw his capabilities, and his sharp teeth..

🌊 "My sweet, you have nothing to worry about~! Why would I ever hurt you~? Those mean humans tried to hurt us! You'd never do that to me now would you~?" He tries to calm you down.

🌊 It takes a while for you to calm down considering how confused and scared you were, but with no way out and Caspians lack of intention to hurt you, the only thing left to do was to just sit and try to think logically about the situation.

🌊 Caspian tries to help you make sense of your little predicament, it was mostly him making an excuse to hold you close because "Am I not able to help you relax my treasure~?"

🌊 So you're in a cave after getting kidnapped brought to safety by a mermaid, how fun...

🌊 You has no choice but to accept your new lifestyle, after all, the only out was an underwater cavern, and you had no idea how deep or long it was. Caspian might not be the best at moving on land, but without him, you'd drown if you attempt to leave.

🌊 Once you told the siren that you weren't going anywhere soon unfortunately, He lit up and gave you a big, soaking wet hug. "Oh my treasure! You'll be happy here, I promise~!" He peppers your face with kisses, some making you shiver at the thought of his sharp teeth being so close to your flesh.

🌊 He'd go out every day to get food for you and him, sometimes surprising you with gifts!

🌊 He knows you like reading, so any book or parchment that he finds is immediately brought to you so you won't be so bored <3

🌊 More often than not they're too wet to actually read, but you appreciate the effort you suppose.

🌊 You also had to explain what cooking is to Caspian and that humans can't eat fish raw...and alive..

🌊 Get ready to be showered with pearls and pretty shells and treasure! Caspian is a bit picky when it comes to his own horde so anything that he considers nice but not on par with his tastes goes to you~!

🌊 He would always ask to sleep with you in your bed, and he doesn't take no for an answer.

🌊 "It's cold my treasure~! Could you warm me up~?"

🌊 "It gets so lonely in the water~ May I stay in bed with you my love~?"

🌊 "But I got all those nice things for you~!"

🌊 He would keep whining and fussing until you agree. He doesn't care at all that your sheets are all now soaked.

🌊 If you tell him to dry off first, he will! But you'll have to pay him with a kiss~

🌊 He may or may not sniff your hair while you sleep...and maybe lick your neck..

🌊 He can't get himself to sleep sometimes, he'd just watch you sleep the whole time. What can he say? You're too irresistible~!

🌊 Sometimes he'd even whisper sweet things into your ear, promising you the world if you'd let him.

🌊 More often than not, he sings you to sleep. The anxieties of never seeing your family again and living off of just fish and other sea creatures was getting to you, not to mention the many hours of being alone in a cave.

🌊 His siren song lulled you to bed every night. No matter how much you distanced yourself away from him, he was always able to calm you down with his voice.

🌊 "Hush now my dear~...You'll learn to like it here~ And one day, we'll be married and live happily ever after~ Just like in your stories~ Just you wait~..."

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alwritey-aphrodite · 5 months

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I am begging for any kind of crumbs related to the arranged marriage to Sejanus head cannons please 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Our boy is so smitten <3

Here’s the first part

The more time Sejanus spends with you, the more he can picture your life together. He’s definitely getting ahead of himself, and he doesn’t even know if you have any feelings for him that extend beyond platonic, but he can’t help but fall a little bit in love with you every time he sees you.

The academy students are well known for their teasing and gossip, even if you’d think the best and brightest of Panem would have better things to do than talk about each other all day long. Lately, you and Sejanus have seemed to be the topic of choice, word spreading fast from the rumor mill that is the mothers of the Capital.

Having spent all your life with these kids, you let their comments roll off your back, Sejanus is sensitive, every little quip like a knife to his heart.

“The day Arachne and Festus make me upset is the day that I disappear forever,” you’d told him once, practically dragging him alone as you stomped away from your peers, getting tired of the downcast look in Sejanus’s eyes. All he could focus on in that moment was the way your hand felt in his, and how badly he’d like for you to hold his hand more often.

While most of the time you spend together is at the academy or formal events put together by your parents, you always find an excuse to steal him away, to spend some time with just him in a manner that your parents would find unseemly.

“I know where my father keeps his liquor,” you’d whispered into his ear, and all Sejanus could focus on was the feeling of you impossibly close to him, the sensation of your voice in his ear sending a shiver down his spine. You grab his hand again, gently pulling him from the crowded room and towards your father’s study, where you definitely aren’t allowed.

“We’ll just grab it and go, I promise,” you tell him, sensing his nerves as you ease open the heavy wooden door and disappear inside. It only takes you a second before you reappear, with a bottle in your hand and the most beautiful smile Sejanus has ever seen.

You don’t grab his hand again, even though he wishes you would, but you lead him from the house all the same, passing by your typical spots to make sure no one stumbling from the house will catch the two of you. Passing through a grove of trees, you arrive in a clearing where it would be practically impossible for anyone to find you. Sejanus’s stomach is in knots, a mix of fear of being caught and anxiety at being alone with you.

It’s not that you’re rude or mean or anything like that, you’re almost too lovely for Sejanus to handle. Even before your parents decided to marry you off, you’d always been sweet to Sejanus, sticking up for him against the rest of your peers and going out of your way to make sure he’s feeling alright. It doesn’t help that you’re exceptionally smart and stunningly beautiful, leaving Sejanus reeling every time you look at him.

Now, when you smile at him, a triumphant grin with the liquor bottle in your hand and the moonlight shining across your face, Sejanus could swear he’s never seen anything half as pretty as you. He’d tell you if he wasn’t so nervous, if his voice didn’t get caught in his throat every time he tried to say anything.

Popping off the cap, you take a swig from the bottle before passing it to Sejanus, barely giving him time to process the fact that you’re essentially kissing before holding your hand out for the bottle again. He drinks as quickly as he can, pulling a face as the liquor burns his throat. You laugh, and as much as he wants to join you, his body racks with a cough, only making you laugh harder, liquid sloshing out from the open bottle in your hand.

“Are you trying to poison me?” He asks once he’s recovered, smiling at the way your eyes crease as you take another pull from the bottle.

“We’d both die together, it’d be very romantic,” you take another swig before offering the bottle again, grinning when he waves it away.

Wiping the dirt off the cap, you close up the bottle and set it aside, leaning back on your hands in a way that makes your shoulder brush against Sejanus, sending sparks all across his arm. You tilt your head up to the sky, and feeling certain that he won’t get caught, Sejanus turns his own gaze over to you, admiring the slope of your nose and the curve of your jaw.

He can’t help but want to kiss you, but fearing the moment would be ruined, he settles for just looking at you in this peaceful state, committing your relaxed face to memory. He’s too busy staring to notice the way your eyes shift from the sky over to him, and when you start to smile, he just chalks it up to the liquor.

#sejanus plinth #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus plinth fanfiction #sejanus x reader #sejanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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heavenlyhischier · 5 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢

part one

word count: 5.8k (i am so sorry)

summary: with adam back in michigan, you’re faced with the one thing you’ve been running from.

warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ CONTENT BELOW— angst, smut, unprotected penetrative sex, cursing

note: this is not edited, so excuse any mistakes.

It’s been almost three weeks since you left Columbus and consequently, Adam as well. While you and Adam never officially declared the end of your relationship, you knew. Questions of what you had done wrong, why he stopped loving you plagued your mind every second since you left his car and collapsed in Luca’s arms. It consumed you entirely and it made you feel like you were suffocating, like your lungs were burning and the only thing that could soothe them was knowing Adam was yours again.

You tried to avoid Luca at first, the sight of him bearing only a reminder of everything you had lost, but he made it known that he wasn’t going to let that happen. He showed up at your apartment as often as he could, hung around you when he saw you on campus, and he made a point to invite you to all of his games. Luca, despite being Adam’s older brother, cared for you like you were his own family and he felt a sense of protection over you. He wanted to make sure you were okay, because, even though you put up the front like you were unbothered, he knew you were hurting deep inside.

The boys were playing Minnesota again, and Luca had finally gotten you to agree to go to the game after many many begging texts and phone calls. You’ve been avoiding Yost for the last couple of weeks, not wanting to be around anything else that made your heart ache and stomach turn, but you felt guilty for not being there. When Luca was at your apartment that afternoon and you told him that you were going to, you watched an unrecognizable emotion flicker in his eyes before he was smiling and telling you how excited he was because there was some special event going on.

After he left, you cleaned up around your apartment a bit before you decided it was time to get ready. You had to take a moment to breathe when you’d opened your closet in search of school gear and you stumbled upon Adam’s old jersey. It took a lot longer to recover from the brief bout of heartbreak than you’d like to admit, but you forced yourself to move on. You couldn’t figure out why, but there was a nagging feeling in your chest the more time went on. It was as if your gut was trying to tell you something, but you couldn’t figure out what it was.

After being in a relationship with a hockey player, driving to Yost was like second nature to you at this point. You knew which way to go to avoid the traffic and exactly where to park so you could leave without any issues. You’d done it so many times before that you truly feel like you could do it with your eyes closed if you had to. Walking into the arena was no different, except for the feeling burning inside your chest. What was once excitement and happiness was now replaced with anxiety and heartbreak.

There were a ton of people already bustling around the edges of the arena, looking at pictures, getting food, buying merch, and it made you miss what used to be. It was only a few months ago that you were walking around the same area with the biggest grin on your face as you explained everything about it to your friends, but it felt like an entirely different lifetime. Now, as you made your way to your seat, you were alone with another heart shattering reality that everything had changed despite promises that nothing would.

It wasn’t until you felt a familiar presence settle into the seat next to you that you relaxed a little bit. Kayleigh greeted you with a warm smile before diving into conversation with you, asking about anything except for Adam, which you were grateful for. You hadn’t really spoken to any of the girls since you’d gotten back, but you were always closest with her, and you were silently thanking Luca for providing you with her company.

“While I’m glad you’re here, I’m surprised you came to this game,” Kayleigh admitted.

“What do you mean,” You pulled your brows together, glancing at her with confusion.

You watched as her face slightly fell before she quickly recovered and cleared her throat, “It’s just— The event tonight. It’s a ceremonial puck drop thing. Rutger said Adam was doing it. I thought you knew?”

You felt like you were going to throw up as your eyes immediately darted around in search of him. Your heart rate increased tenfold as the realization that not only was Adam back in town, it seemed like everyone knew except for you, which means he hadn’t bothered to reach out to you. Of course, he didn’t owe you that kind of courtesy, but you thought— you hoped he would have at least sent you some sort of text and let you know he was going to be in town.

It wasn’t until you glanced towards the bench that you saw him. He was standing there with a grin on his face as he talked to his brother, a beanie sat on his head and a jacket you picked out for him covering his arms. There was nothing that could stop tears from pricking the corners of your eyes as you watched him. He looked like he always had, and it made your heart hurt in the slightest way that made it feel like a tiny dagger was digging into it. It was almost as if what had happened had no effect on him, while it completely shattered your heart and turned your entire world upside down.

Adam was used to feeling people stare at him by now, but this was different. He knew who the stare belonged to just by the way it made his heart race and his hands sweat. As soon as he’d felt your gaze, any words that tumbled from his brother’s mouth fell to deaf ears as he contemplated finding you. However, in the end, he chose to maintain his focus on the ice in front of him because he knew he wouldn’t be able to control his emotions if he saw you.

After he left you on the sidewalk that night, Adam hadn’t been the same person. He was angrier, harsher, and the light that was in his eyes was nothing but a dull glare now. He wasn’t sure what had happened between the two of you, but the finality of your voice when you said you were done told Adam everything he thought he needed to know. Even after Luca had shown up at his apartment and tore into him that night, Adam left you alone and did his best to forget about you, but it was impossible. You were all he thought about.

“Do you want to leave,” Kayleigh’s voice tore through the ringing in your ears, “We can leave.”

“No,” You rushed out, snapping your gaze to her, “No, I’m fine. It’s not like I have to talk to him or anything.”

“Do you want to,” She asked after a brief pause, voice hesitant and careful.

Her question caught you slightly off guard, your face visibly twisting as you let the thought filter through your mind. Do you want to talk to him? Of course you do, you wanted nothing more than to hear his voice again, but you knew it wasn’t good for you. Talking to Adam would only set you back in all of the progress you had made in moving on. While it wasn’t a ton of progress, you weren’t sure you would be able to get back on track if you talked to him again.

“No.”

The game ended up with the boys losing by one, and you could see how defeated they were by the way they sulked off the ice. Despite Mark’s ejection, the boys played their hardest and put their all into the game only to come up empty handed. You knew how badly the boys, but especially Luca, took losses, so you agreed to head down to the locker room to wait with Kayleigh. You hadn’t seen Adam for the last period of the game, so you assumed that he had left to head back to Detroit for his game the following evening.

When the two of you reached the rest of the group of people waiting on the boys, Kayleigh let you know she was going to talk with Rutger’s mom, but that she’d be right back. Telling her to take her time, that you’d be okay, you stood there with your hands clasped in front of you while you waited. A few of the girlfriends gave you fleeting, sympathetic smiles as you lingered towards the back of the group, and it made you want to vomit.

Just as you were about to turn and leave, your gaze met the one person you wanted to avoid. Goosebumps rose on your skin, your breath hitching as you tried to force yourself to look away, but you couldn’t. Adam always had you in the palm of his hands from the moment he looked at you, and this was no different. Even as your heart pounded in your chest and your nerves were screaming at you to run away, you stood there frozen and watched as he approached you.

Adam doesn’t know what prompted him to approach you, but his feet were moving before his mind could catch up. He saw you standing there at the back of the group, alone and clearly nervous, and he couldn’t stop himself when you met his eyes. Despite the agony burning in his chest of the reminder that he ruined his own happiness with you, he called your name out like it was the only word that held any meaning to him.

“Hey,” He swallowed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he tried to keep his gaze on your face.

The blood was pounding in your ears as your throat went dry, words dying on the tip of your tongue as you gazed up at him. Now that he was closer to you, you could see the way dark circles adorned the spots underneath his eyes and the light you loved more than anything was nothing more than a dull glint. You hated that it made you feel better to know that he wasn’t doing as great as you thought.

“Hey,” You choked out, nails digging into your palm.

“How are you,” Adam inwardly cringed at how awkward the words felt coming out.

He hated how formal and sticky the whole situation was when all he wanted to do was pull you into his arms and beg for your forgiveness. The night you left, Luca had gone to Adam’s place and tore into him with every ounce of anger he had. Luca had told him stupid he was and how much of an absolute dickhead he had been to you before finally settling down and trying to figure out just why he was treating you that way. By the time Luca had left, Adam had an entirely new outlook on what had happened and he wanted to call you. He wanted to tell you how sorry he was, but he didn’t.

“I’m good,” You responded, voice flat as you tried to keep yourself from crying, “How are you?”

“Yeah, I’m good too,” He nodded, the ache in his chest making it nearly impossible for him to believe, “What’d you think of the game?”

There was a sob trying to force its way out of your throat, and that’s how you knew you needed to get away from there. Seeing him was too much for you, much more than you thought it would be. You wanted to try and have a conversation with him, but you couldn’t do that anymore. Not after everything that happened and the way it all ended so abruptly and without explanation. You felt the tide of emotions recede back to where they belonged, and shook your head.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” You forced out, tearing your gaze away from him and turning on your heels.

Adam was painfully aware of the stares he was receiving from those around him as they watched him reach out for you, but he didn’t care about them. All he cared about was you and every part of him screamed to run after you, to not let you go for a second time, but he was frozen in his spot. Panic settled in every part of his body as he watched your figure disappear, and he felt just as lost as he did the last time he let you go. However, Luca had seen the entire act occur and was determined to not let his brother screw it up a second time.

“Get your ass in your car and go after her,” Luca clapped his brother on the back, breaking Adam’s attention away from the hallway.

“I can’t,” Adam shook his head, tears lining his eyes as he tried to blink them away, “She— She’s done with me. She doesn’t want this anymore.”

“Dude, she just wanted to know that you still love her. She can deal with the distance and the not talking every second of the day, but she couldn’t deal with feeling like she didn’t matter anymore,” He explained, soft voice not quite matching the fierceness in his eyes, “Go and prove that you love her, and maybe she’ll come back.”

As soon as Luca’s words resonated with Adam, he was rushing out of Yost in search of his own car. He knew he was supposed to be going back to Detroit directly after the game, but he couldn’t lose you again. To Adam, doing whatever he could to have you back in his arms and in his life was far more important than anything else. He needed you back more than he needed air in his lungs, and he wasn’t leaving without a fight this time.

You’re not entirely sure you didn’t break at least ten traffic laws on your way home, but you needed to get away from it. From him. You needed to wrap yourself in your blanket and cry yourself to sleep as you relived the most heartbreaking moment of your entire life over and over again until you had no tears left to cry.

The moment the door closed behind you, you slid down to the floor and hugged your knees to your chest as you let sobs tear through your body. You knew you should’ve just gone home after the game was over; you knew the risk of seeing Adam was too high, but you let your hopes take control. Yet again, your eagerness for the stars to align in your favor came back to bite you in the ass, or better yet, shoot you in the heart. However, the sound of frantic knocking on your apartment door cut through your cries.

You wiped at your cheeks, but you knew there was nothing that was going to hide the fact that you were crying. Taking a deep breath, you glanced through the peephole in the door and nearly collapsed on the floor again when you saw who was on the other side. Adam was standing there, one hand nervously running through his hair as he waited for you to either let him in or tell him to fuck off. Truthfully, you weren’t sure what you wanted to do, but your heart was begging you to let him back in, and you decided to listen to it.

“What are you doing here,” You asked, voice breaking as you stood in the small crack of the doorway.

Adam was shocked that you had opened the door, but he quickly gathered himself so he could speak, “Can I come in? I want— I want to talk. Please?”

Before you truly realized what you were doing, you were holding the door open for Adam to pass through. His eyes were wide with surprise, as were your own, but he stepped into your apartment and let his gaze wander around the space. He hadn’t been in it since you’d moved in, too busy with his own summer schedule and moving to a different state, but he couldn’t help but notice that he hadn’t been removed from any of your picture frames. In fact, you had still hung up the photo collage that was just the two of you.

“What do you want,” You sniffled, hugging your arms to your body as you let the door shut behind you.

Seeing Adam standing in the middle of your apartment was a sight you thought you’d never see after that night. He looked so out of place yet still like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. He had rid himself of his jacket and beanie, his hair in a disarray atop his head and his arms slightly red and cold from the short walk it was from the parking lot to your apartment. No matter what has happened between the two of you, Adam was still the most attractive person you’d ever seen, and you hated the way your face warmed by the simple look of him.

“I’m sorry,” His voice cracked as he called out your name, “For everything. I know that things changed between us when I left and it’s all my fault. I’m so sorry. I don’t— I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to try. If you want to. I just don’t know what to do.”

Of all the things you expected, you hadn’t expected that. Adam coming over to suggest the two of you officially break up, or even hook up with each other, were both thoughts that crossed your mind, but not this. You felt your breath catch in your throat as his eyes bore into your own, words dying before they could escape through your lips. You didn’t know what to say, but the pathetic desperation to give in sat heavy on your tongue.

“Why,” You settled for, unshed tears glistening in your eyes, “Why did things change? Did you fall out of love with me?”

“No,” He firmly spoke, shaking his head and taking a couple of steps towards you, “No. That wasn’t the case then, and it isn’t now either. I have always been in love with you. I was just afraid. It’s— I was afraid you would realize that I wasn’t who you wanted anymore. With how busy my schedule is, I thought you wouldn’t want— I just thought you would want to be with someone better. I didn’t think I would be go— ”

“Adam,” You interrupted as rogue tears slid down your cheeks, “I get it, but you should’ve talked to me instead of making an assumption like that. The night you got drafted, all I could think about was how you were going to move away from me to a city where girls would be throwing themselves at you. All I could think about was how maybe you were going to meet someone and realize that I wasn’t enough for you, but I trusted you when you said nothing would change.

“I put all of my faith and love into you because I wanted it to work out. Adam, when you stopped trying, it made me feel like you didn’t love me anymore. It made me feel unwanted and unworthy. You made me feel like I wasn't enough all because you were scared and didn’t talk to me. It’s just— This isn’t fair. Telling me you’re sorry and want this to work after everything that happened.”

“I know,” He whispered, his chest nearly touching yours now as he peered down at you, “I know it isn’t. Nothing I did was fair, and I will spend the rest of my life showing you how sorry I am. Letting you leave that night is my biggest regret, and I don’t want to lose you again. If you don’t want that, I understand, but I can’t let you go again without putting up a fight.”

You’re staring up at him, eyes glassy and wide as you contemplate everything in your head. Adam was standing in front of you, telling how sorry he was and how felt, and it was everything you wished he would have done three weeks ago. He was giving you everything you wanted, and every ounce of you was still so irrevocably in love with him that you knew you were going to jump in head first all over again. Though, you didn’t trust your voice enough to not break, so you took the smallest step towards him and wrapped your arounds around his neck.

Adam watched as the gears in your head turned, eyes swimming with a multitude of emotions that made him nervous. He had always been so good at reading what you were feeling before, but now he didn’t want to give himself hope by believing that you were looking at him the way you always had. He didn’t realize that he was holding his breath until he felt your hands around the nape of his neck, the air leaving his lungs as his hands instinctively wrapped around your waist.

Your heart was slamming into your chest, nerves scratching at your skin as you slowly stood on your toes so your nose was brushing his own. You could hear Adam’s breath hitch in his throat, his hands tightening on your back as he waited for you to finally make the move. Your eyes darted from his eyes to his lips, your thoughts running wild as you ghosted your lips over his. The fluttering in your chest erupted into a stampede of emotions when you finally pressed your lips against his.

Adam was quick to pull you closer into him, his mouth moving against yours as he poured all of his emotions into you. You gently tug on the ends of his hair, his mouth dropped open into a gasp, and you used the opportunity to slide your tongue into his mouth. You knew it was moving too fast, but you missed Adam far too much to hold anything back. You needed him more than you needed air.

His scruff scratched against your chin as he moves his mouth against you, the skin aching and burning, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way Adam felt against you again as the two of you clung to each other like you’d disappear. Your teeth clashed against his own as he moved his hands down, grabbing at your ass before he was grasping at the back of your thighs as a silent signal. Wrapping your legs around him, you briefly pulled away to mumble the directions to your room.

“Wait. We don’t— We don’t have to,” Adam stuttered, voice careful and cautious.

“I want to, I promise. Please,” You pleaded, eyes wide and desperate, “I want to.”

With your confirmation, Adam peppers gentle kisses to your neck as he walks back to your room, and you’re suddenly very thankful that you decided against getting a roommate. He kicks the door closed behind him, briefly pausing in the doorway to take in what he could see of your room before he’s carefully turning so he’s sitting on your bed. He meets your lips again as he presses his fingers into your hips as your thighs straddle his own.

You can feel his bulge pressing against your inner thigh and it makes the warm feeling in your chest spread down to your center. Without breaking the kiss, your fingers begin to dance down to the hem of his shirt as he pushes himself against you. Your hand slips underneath the fabric, fingers dragging and scraping along the toned muscles of his stomach. You feel them tense underneath your touch, followed by the subtle feeling of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“I missed you,” He whispered against your lips, voice thick with raw emotion, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too,” You mumbled, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you let yourself truly fall into the fact that Adam was right there with you.

“Are you sure you want to do this,” He asked again, his hands sliding underneath your shirt as he rubs circles against your skin.

You slightly pull away from him, your gaze desperate as you nod, “I’m more than sure. I need you, Adam. Please. I just— I need this.”

You watched as he swallowed thickly, his eyes boring into your own as he slowly lifted your shirt over your head. He dragged the pads of his fingers across your skin, admiring the way your body curved like it was the first time he was seeing it all over again. Your breath hitches as he grazes your breasts, nipples hardening at his touch. He reaches around to undo the clasp, the straps sliding down your arms so you’re chest is on full display for him.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” He mumbled, his hands cupping your breast.

A small whine passed through your lips before you lift Adam’s shirt over his head, bringing your lips to his as you grind down against his length. He let out a quiet groan that vibrated against you, his hands moved back down to your hips as he slowly moved your clothed center on him. Your fingers wound through his hair, delicately yanking and pulling on the strands as you felt the pressure on your clit. As much as you loved foreplay, you needed to feel him again.

“Adam,” You whispered, “Please.”

Despite not saying many words, he knew what you wanted, and he was just as desperate to give it to you. He carefully grabbed at your hips as he stood and turned around so you were sitting on the edge of the bed now. You watched with blown pupils as he kneeled in front of you, fingers looping into the waistband of your pants before sliding them down your legs.

Goosebumps rose on your skin as the air hit your legs, but they were snuffed out by the fire of his touch as he tugged your panties down your legs.

Despite the silence surrounding the two of you, your actions and eyes spoke a million words as he stood up in front of you. You stared up at him as you undid the button to his jeans, hooking your fingers into the belt loops of them before you tugged them over his thighs. Adam watches with baited breath as you rid him of his pants, his already hard cock throbbing at the sight of your naked body in front of him.

As he steps away from the discarded clothing, he’s leaning down and capturing lips yet again, one hand moving to cup the back of your head while the other presses into the mattress beside you. Keeping your lips on his, you slowly scoot backwards so you’re near the top of the bed rather than the bottom. The way Adam presses his body onto yours and the hair on his face scratches and bites at your skin was enough to make your heart nearly beat out of your chest.

“Are you ready,” He quietly asked, pulling away to scan your face and make sure you were still okay with continuing.

“Yeah,” You eagerly rush out before shyly looking away, “But I, um– I haven’t been with anyone since our last time, so go slow.”

Embarrassment settled in your chest as you admitted that out loud. A part of you was so certain and sure that Adam had hooked up with other women during the short duration of your “breakup”. It made you nauseous to think about, but he had access to all kinds of things now, so you assumed he would have used those to his advantage.

“Hey,” He put all of his weight on one arm so he could take your chin between his fingers and gently force your eyes back to his own, “Neither have I. I never even thought about someone who wasn’t you, okay? You are the only one I want, forever.”

With watery eyes, you slightly pick your head up and place a small kiss to his lips before nodding. You spread your thighs open so that he can slot himself in between them. He drops his hand between your bodies, grasping his length in his hands as he slowly rubs himself between your folds. Your body shudders underneath him, your eyes fluttering closed as you let yourself relax underneath him.

“Want you to look at me,” He plr, voice soft and needy.

Your eyes snap open to meet his own, lip pulled between your teeth in anticipation as you wrap your arms around his neck. Adam holds your gaze as he slowly pushes himself into you, strained groans slipping through his lips as he feels you clench around him. He stops when he hears you wince, but you shake your head and quietly tell him to keep going, that you would get used to it soon.

Adam buries himself to the hilt inside of you, feeling your walls readjust to his size all over again. He watches as you screw your eyes shut again and press your head into the pillow as a few, mumbled curse words filter through his ears. He can feel your hands tightening their grip, but he pays it no mind as he relishes in the way you feel wrapped around him.

“I’m– You can move,” You force out, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his hips.

Adam slowly begins to rock his hips against yours, his head dropping to your shoulder as you cling to him. Your soft moans fill the room, and they’re like the most angelic sounds he has ever heard. He could listen to the way you sound for the rest of his life and never get bored, especially when those sounds were because of him.

You're grasping at his back, fingers digging into the skin as he thrusts into you deeply and slowly. You can feel his pants and grunts reverberating in the crook of your neck, and it made the coil in your stomach wind together even more than it already was. Adam knew how much you loved listening to the desperate sounds he made as he drills into you, and he loved the way you would clench around him when his breath would hit the sensitive skin of your neck.

“I love you,” He hesitantly whispered, nerves running through his body as he feels you falter beneath him.

“I love you,” You breathe out after a brief pause.

Your words encourage Adam to quicken his pace, his hips snapping into your harder and faster now. The sound of skin slapping skin mixes with the sounds of your moans, echoing around your room as he slams himself into you. Adam isn’t sure how long he’s going to last, but he doesn't want to finish before you, so he finds himself reaching a hand between you. His thumb finds your clit and begins to rub fast circles against it, sending you into a mess of whines and strangled curse words.

You feel Adam’s movements stutter and slow, and you can tell that he’s trying to hold himself back for you. Lucky for him, you feel yourself slowly teetering over the edge of your release. Adam adjusts his hips so that he’s hitting into you at a different angle, and it wasn’t long after that your eyes are rolling back into your head as your orgasm rolls through your body in waves. As your walls flutter and clench around his cock, Adam finds himself letting out a slew of curse words as he came inside of you.

You feel him still inside of you as his body slumps against yours, but he’s still careful to not put too much weight on you. Adam presses light, feathered kisses to your neck as your breathing matches his own. You let out quiet giggles, your body squirming underneath him as his hair tickles the skin. The sticky feeling between your legs is growing to be slightly uncomfortable, but a part of you doesn’t want him to get up. You want him to stay in your hold for as long as he can.

“I’m going to get a towel,” He murmurs, pushing himself up so he’s hovering over you, “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Adam places a small kiss to your forehead before he quickly rushes off to your bathroom to grab a towel. When he comes back, he’s got a shit eating grin on his face, and it makes one of your own form on your face. He slaps your hand away when you try and take the towel from him, one hand gently separating your legs while the other cleans up the mess the two of you made. He throws the towel into your basket when he’s done and crawls underneath the blanket with you, and suddenly fear is settling in your chest all over again.

“You’re shaking,” He points out, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” You whisper, though your voice gives you away.

“I’m sorry, baby,” He starts again, his hand rubbing circles on your back, “I know I said that already, but I am. I promise that everything’s going to be better now. I will do anything and everything I can to prove to you that I will never put you through that again. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

“Just, please talk to me next time you feel like that,” You choke out, “I want to work through things together, as a team.”

“Of course. I’m sorry I made it seem like I never wanted that,” His voice is firm and certain, but you feel he’s slightly tense up before he continues, “Speaking of teams. Would you maybe want to come see mine play tomorrow? You don’t have to if you’re busy, but I just— I want to do this right this time. I want you to meet everyone.”

You gaze up at Adam and you can see the nerves slapped on his face, and you don’t blame him. You were nervous, too. Everything about this made you anxious, and you could tell that things had changed, but it was a good change. The type of change that told you this love was going to be the most life altering love of your life, even though, in a way, it already was.

#adam fantilli imagine #adam fantilli #adam fantilli x reader #adam fantilli smut #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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ghostofskywalker · 7 months

Text

After The Mission

Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

Fictober Day 20 of 31

Words: 1,041

Summary: You didn't know how much longer you could deal with your growing attraction to Bucky Barnes, and it certainly doesn't help that the two of you had been assigned a mission that included black tie attire.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

For once, everything seemed to go to plan. The plans were successful, the bad guy was caught, and no one else could do you any harm. There was just one little problem, and that was the rising tension between you and your mission partner.

You knew Bucky Barnes was handsome, most people did at this point. But you had also only seem him in tactical gear and the casual clothes he wore around the compound, so to walk into the living room and see him in a full suit was truly something else. You would like to think that you saw his breath hitch slightly when he first laid eyes on you (and the very expensive designer dress you were wearing), but you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself.

This was a rare assignment, mainly because you didn’t actually have to do any fighting. Your entire job was to keep an eye on one specific patron at this fancy restaurant, and alert the rest of the team when he started to move, and that’s what you did. It almost felt like you were actually just out for a nice dinner with Bucky, and you were certainly not complaining.

But now, as you were setting foot back in the compound, something felt different between you. Before tonight you might have suggested that you meet back in the living room and have a pajama and ice cream movie marathon, but right now that seemed completely impossible. Not because you had argued or anything of that nature, but because things just felt different between you and him after this dinner.

Just as you decided that it was probably time to take this dress off and get ready for bed, you heard a knock at your door. You immediately walked over and opened it, thinking it was probably Natasha on the other side, stopping by to let you know how the rest of the team did when they apprehended the target and if there was anything else that needed to be done in the coming days.

You certainly weren’t expecting Bucky to be standing on the other side. “Hey,” he said. “I just wanted to check in with you.” He had also not yet shed his fancy evening attire, and the fact that his tie was currently undone around his neck was only making him more attractive. Seriously, why did he have to be so attractive? Was he trying to kill you?

“Oh,” was your response, not quite sure what to make of the interaction at this point. “Did Steve send something out to the team that I missed?”

“Not in an official sense,” he said, and your expression changed to one of confusion. “You seemed like something was bothering you on the way home, so I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Thank you for checking on me,” you said. “I don’t think anything was wrong, I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.” That wasn’t the whole truth and you knew it, but the reality was that you were acting differing because of the ridiculously crazy thoughts running through your head at that moment, all of which involved you and Bucky in much less clothing and several rather compromising positions.

“Are you sure?” he said. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I promise I’m not mad at you,” you said, a small smile crossing your face. “That is absolutely not the reason I was acting like that on the way home.”

You had really hoped that he would just let the conversation go after that and allow you to get ready for bed (and pine for him in peace), but of course that was not what happened. “So there is something,” he said, closing the door behind him as he stepped further into your room. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, trying to think of an excuse to get out of this conversation. “Don’t worry.”

“But I am worried,” was his response, and it was accompanied by a look that almost made your heart melt right then and there. “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Because it’s about you,” you said, and immediately regretted it.

“What? I thought you just-”

Since you would rather he be disgusted by your attraction to him than angry at himself for doing something wrong (which he absolutely hadn’t done), you decided to just tell him the truth. “Because I like you,” you said softly. “And I know that it’s probably a stupid little crush and I’ll get over it, but I saw you in that suit tonight and I’m pretty sure my brain forgot how thoughts work.” You watched as your words sank in, waiting for the inevitable rejection that would break your heart for a few weeks before you would be able to recover.

But much to your surprise, that rejection never came.

Instead, Bucky’s hands found their way to your waist, and he gently pulled you closer to him. Your lips met immediately, and it didn’t really matter who kissed who, because both of you were pouring so much passion into the kiss that you genuinely wondered if you would faint when you pulled apart.

Thankfully, your legs continued to work (even if they did wobble a little), and unfortunately you did have to break for air. “I really hope that it isn’t a little crush,” he said, his eyes searching yours with an expression of pure happiness. “Because seeing you walk out in that dress made me feel pretty much the same way.”

“Really?” This had to be some kind of dream, it was simply too good to be true.

“Really.” He leaned in and placed another soft kiss on your lips. “And I really don’t want this night to end.”

Your breath hitched. “Me neither,” you breathed, voice barely above a whisper.

His lips began to travel down to your neck, and you had to fight hard not to make any embarrassing noises. You could hear the sound of someone’s phone ringing beyond your lovesick haze, and you knew that he had probably heard it too, but neither of you were going to pay attention to it.

Right now, you were just enjoying this perfect moment.

- the end -

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#ghostofskywalker.fictober #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #marvel x reader

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hellcat8908 · 2 months

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Flying Lessons Cassian x Female Reader

You were sleeping peacefully next to Cassian before the bedroom door flung open as Cassie and Merikh excitedly ran into the room. If you hadn't woken up from the noise, you would've when the twins fluttered onto the bed, climbing on top of you and Cassian. "Your children are awake." Cassian grumbled, still half asleep. "Before noon, they are yours." You mumble back as the twins excitedly demand that you both get up. You stretch before sitting up in bed. "You promised," Merikh says as he shakes Cassian awake. "Come on, let's get some breakfast and give daddy a chance to wake up." You say before taking them downstairs to the kitchen.

You made eggs, bacon, and toast, making sure to save some for Cassian. Your mate walked into the kitchen moments after the twins had started scarfing down food. "You're going to teach us to fly!" Cassie says with a mouthful of eggs. "I am, but you have to listen to what I say." He says. He grabs a plate and his tea before sitting at the table. Merikh starts telling him how excited he is and all the cool things he'll be able to do. You excuse yourself to go get dressed for the day. When you come back, both kids are rushing through cleaning up while Cassian finishes his tea.

Once the dishes are dry and put away, Cassian is out of excuses. You both take the kids outside where azriel and rhys are waiting, "how long have you two been here?" Cassian asks. "Not long, we heard the kids get their first flying lessons today." Rhys says, causing Cassian to shake his head. "Wel'll behave." They both say, causing you to laugh. "Alright, let's get moving." Cassian says as the 6 of you are winnowed to an open field. You watch as your mate and his brothers start giving instructions. The twins start arguing about who goes first so Azriel settles it by picking Cassie to go first, telling Merikh its part of being a gentleman.

As she flaps her wings, she slowly lifts off the ground, "Remember, don't go too high." Cassian reminds her as he keeps his arms ready to catch her. "You're doing great, Cassie," Rhys says, encouraging her. Even Merikh tells her how good she is. You watch as Cassian talks her through landing. "Alright, my turn," Merikh says as he follows how Cassie did it. He quickly gets the hang of it. "Good job," Azriel says as he watches from beside you with Cassie between you. "Easy, don't get too carried away." Cassian says as he watches.

Before long, Cassie in back in the air as they both start to become more comfortable. You can see the pride on Cassian's face along with his brothers. You take a moment to savor the sight in front of you, glad your kids have the support you didn't growing up. Cassian quickly turns his attention to you, sensing your emotions through the bond. You give him a smile and a nod, assuring him you're okay. Cassie lands beside you and excitedly tugs on your hand, "Fly, with me, mommy," she says. You can't help the stabbing pain you feel at her words, "Oh, sweetheart, mommy wishes she could, but she can't. Maybe Daddy will fly with you." You say trying to redirect her attention.

"But I want you to, please." She says, sounding sad. "I really do want to, but mommy can't fly, sweetheart." You say gently as she pouts. Before she can say anything else, Cassian tells her he'll fly with her, trying to help the situation. She doesn't relent, causing Cassian to decide that's enough for one day. "Why don't you love me?" Cassie says, causing your heart to break. "I love you very much." You assure her. "You won't fly with me." She says on the verge of tears. "There's something you need to know." You tell her as you pick her up. "You don't have to do this," Cassian says. "They deserve to know." You say as Merikh comes over.

"A long time ago, some bad men made it so mommy couldn't use her wings to fly anymore." You tell them. "It's not that I don't want to fly with either of you, but it's because mommy's wings don't work anymore." Cassie looks at you and apologizes, "Sorry mommy, I know you love me." She says as she throws her arms around your neck. "What happened to the bad men?" Merikh asks. "They won't hurt anybody else ever again." You tell him. "What about my wings? Are they going hurt mine?" Cassie asks, sounding scared. "No, sweetheart, Daddy and your uncles are making sure no one else has their wings hurt." You say. "Daddy and I will never let anything happen to either or you." You say trying to comfort them.

"Alright, you two, how about some more practice?" You say trying to get them excited again. "Yes!" Merikh says before taking off, causing everyone to laugh, "Wait for me!" Cassie shouts quickly, trying to catch up to her brother. "You didn't have to do that." Cassian says as he pulls you to his side. "We both knew they'd need to know eventually. For now, we'll spare them the details and let them be kids for as long as possible." You say watching them chase each other. You're content to spend the afternoon watching your kids learn to fly with the help of Cassian. The smiles on their faces and the endless laughter are worth everything you've endured.

#acotar #batboys #sarah j maas #acotar fanfic #cassian x reader #cassian #azriel acotar #rhysand acotar

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ikiprian · 3 months

Note

Wanna share ur epic cool WIPS?

-Winion✌🏽

OH BOY, DO I!!! MISMENTOR AU BE UPON THEE

“Hey, Mr. Fenton,” Tim says. He makes some snap judgments based on Fenton’s personality and previous interactions he’s seen him have with students, then holds out the blanket, expression aiming for appropriately sheepish as opposed to dead guilty, which will be more fitting a role when he gets to English late. “Sorry I passed out back there. I promise it won’t happen again, I was just up late and then I couldn’t fall asleep and, y’know, my brother’s dog--”

“Oh absolutely, you’re not in trouble or anything. Don’t worry about it,” Fenton says. He opens the largest drawer in his massive desk to tuck the blanket away-- Tim spots at least two hoodies, a massive first aid kit, a box of granola, stress balls, fidget toys-- and shuts it. “But I do wanna ask if everything’s okay. This is, if I’m counting right, the third time in three weeks you’ve fallen asleep.”

Tim freezes. Yikes.

“I didn’t wanna say anything the other times,” Fenton continues, “but it is a pattern, now, and I wanna make sure you’re getting everything you need.”

“I am,” Tim’s quick to say. I am, I’m just also moonlighting as a vigilante and have three cases to juggle ATM. I am, I’m just also trying to organize my teen superhero team into a potential reunification party. I am, I’m just also filling my time chasing some new meta kid around Gotham to make sure he’s not a villain. He takes a breath.

A dozen pre-planned, civilian-friendly excuses shuffle in his head, and he picks the one that makes the most sense. “I just-- y’know. I’m having trouble adjusting to academic life again, I think. I took that break studying abroad, and then I worked full time, and I had all that freedom, and now…”

Fenton nods. “Oh, yeah. I remember being a teenager.” God, Tim loves it when people reinforce his excuses for him. “Well, if you ever need anything, let me know, okay? And try to prioritize sleep in your schedule. Here, let me show you a trick…”

Fenton opens his phone, his comically large fingers tapping away at the tiny screen, and pulls up a little website. In some ways, his brick-shithouse build is intimidating. Tim’s surprised he’s found a career in the classroom, and not as a bouncer at a nightclub.

#dark danny is a sign that dannys gonna grow up to have his dads massive build send tweet #THANK YOU WINION YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I LOVE SHARING THINGS #blows a kiss to the dashboard. for you my friend #dpxdc #danny phantom #batfamily #misunderstood mentor au #kipsnip #winion

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calirph · 1 month

Text

𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒, 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄.

All sentences are taken from different sources and area blend of questions, angst, affirmations and reassurance, heartbreak, the past, the future and self assurance. Change names, pronouns, locations and more as you see fit.

If I keep loving you, maybe you'll eventually crack and love me too.

I'm pretty sure you're already half in love with me.

I don't think you're evil.

See? Things are already looking promising.

Are these things really better than the things I already have?

Was it all in my head?

You’re even more painful to look at than she is.

I'm hoping he can save me, even though I realize he can't.

You were the only one I saw when I closed my eyes.

Then why wasn't I enough when they were open?

I wonder how you say goodbye to someone forever?

Are you seriously in this much self-denial, Sydney? Like do you actually believe yourself when you say you don’t feel anything?

Physical attraction isn’t the same as love. You of all people should know that.

Is that what bothers you? My past?

You destroy me and then you kiss me. You give me a reason to hate you and then you give me a reason to love you.

Two lifetimes, they belong to you. No regrets.

You're not nothing to me. That's precisely the problem.

Are you so stupid you don't know what I'm going to do to you?

Are you so stupid you haven't figured out yet that it doesn't matter?

When it comes to love, Princess, rules blur, and traditions fade.

I just wanted…

Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me I'm blind. Tell me you love me.

Yes. I remember.

They got him. The Hallows got him.

You’re kidding? No one expects decorum from me.

...But how is there glory in taking a life? We die so easily.

You'll really start to hate me.

Tell me who did this, and I will take care of it. Anyone who thought they could lay a hand on you should fear for their life.

I can't tell whose the bigger monster. Him. Or Me.

You do have a tender heart. It almost makes me want to spare you, just so I don’t have to watch it break.

In the parallel lines to the roads of life, I'm glad ours intersected twice.

Sometimes I feel like you've given up. It's like you just accept this as your fate.

This, us, it can’t happen. It can't happen, Avery. I've seen the way Jameson looks at you.

At least I do not deny my own heart.

You’re not living to live—you’re living for death.

I will have you without armour, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.

I want him to hurt. To bleed. I want him to snap, just like he snapped me.

If you really don't want me- no other excuses, just me- just tell me right now, and I'll leave and we'll be done.

Otherwise, start getting used to the fucking fact that you can't protect me from everything. And I'm not made of glass.

This house bleeds memories.

I don’t need your permission.

Your hands will touch me and no one else, Meadow. That is final.

My grief wasn’t deep or poetic. It was sinister in its simplicity.

He is in love with you.

Why won't anyone take me...when someone decides to go I will always be left behind.

You don't believe me or my words, do you?

I never said you didn't have a heart. But it would be nice if it beat every now and then.

You loved me.

I think you know in your heart that you’re meant for something extraordinary.

What does your heart tell you you’re meant for?

Somebody's got to win this war, right?

I am faithless. I have done unforgivable things. And I am broken.

You are a soldier. A fighter. And now you must fight. Not for the emperor, not for France . . . but for yourself.

You are my first choice. You're my only choice.

I always say the wrong things.

Why I acted the way I did…Why I was so pissed off. It will never make any sense to you because I don’t know how to explain.

You can't live your life based on 'what-ifs,' Liv.

You weren't listening to me.

That's an interesting way to get my attention.

I’m not the enemy. I’m not the kind of guy who would try to hurt you more when I know you’re already hurting, but I’m someone willing to hear you and understand you.

We cannot win if we fight among ourselves.

I’ve always wanted to be liked. It grieved me that I was treated with indifference.

A united front announcing a split.

#meme #roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #angst meme #◟ ⋆ memes › roleplay sources.

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ifeeltoofuckingmuch · 3 months

Text

Another girl to you

Dominic fike x Singer!reader

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Prompt: You always show up for Dominic, on set, or for his concerts. But he rarely shows up for you.

Warnings: angst, fluff, fighting, swearing, happy ending I swear!!!

Author's note: I decided to do singer reader bc it makes more sense.

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Last week was fun. You were backstage at his concert, chatting with your friends while humming along to the beat. You wished you could stay but you had to fly to New York, for your own concert.

Tomorrow was your big day and Dominic said he would come. But he still hasn't shown up yet, he promised he'd be here a day before it. You sigh, not surprised because he rarely ever comes, always busy with his own stuff.

You can't blame him, you know he's famous and has his own things going on. But so do you, yet you still show up to almost every show. You decide to calm down by taking a nice warm shower.

After you got out of the shower, you put on your pajamas, and slide into the cold hotel bed.

You had woken up, without Dominic by your side, you quickly do your hair and make up, ready to go out today. You think to yourself, hoping that Dom was just running late and forgot to tell you. But you knew if he was he would tell you.

Once you were ready, you headed out to a not-so-far-away café, checking your phone like every second to see if Dominic texted you. He hasn't talked to you since since you left last night.

You were at rehearsal, practicing all your songs you were going to preform. Once you've finished, you heard your phone ring. You ran to get, hoping it was Dom, and it was. You never answered a phone so quickly in your life.

"Why the hell haven't you texted me?" You whispered-yell into the phone, whilst walking into a private room. He stutters into the phone. "My phone died i-" you cut him off, "are you fucking serious?" You yelled, "all day, your phone was dead?" You continued.

"Yes, but babe I was busy." He sighed into the phone, "that's not an excuse, Dominic, you promised." You replied, eyes tearing up. "I'll come tonight, I promise." He said in a soft tone. "Don't promise me shit." You mumbled and hung up.

You sat there, crying for a good 10 minutes before you wiped your tears away and went back out. It was almost time for your show.

You were more anxious than usual, probably because of the whole thing with Dominic. You still loved him, of course you did, you just couldn't stand the thought of him right now. "10 minutes" you heard one of the backstage workers yell.

After your show you went back to your hotel room, opening the hotel door, you see him, Dominic. "H-how the hell did you get in here?" You say as you shut the door. "It was unlocked." He says looking at you. You must've been so caught up in your own mind you forgot to lock it.

"y/n..I'm sorry." He apologized "I'm sure you are." You argue back. He stood up walking over to you as you sit your bag on the side table. He wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your neck softly. "I am, I've just been busy." He says gently.

You pushed him away, turning to face him, eyes tearing up with tears as you say, "am I just another girl? Is that all I am?" You say quietly, with your arms crossed. Your tears fall silently. Dominic looks at you with worry, he brings his hands to your cheeks and wipes your tears.

He doesn't say anything, he just pulls you into a hug. Rubbing the back of your head. "No." He speaks, "I'm trying babe, trust me I wanted to come but I got caught up." He continues, now looking you in the eyes as you continue to cry. "Really?" You say softly, "really." Dominic replies.

You two decide to take a warm bath, enjoying each others presence. After that y'all climb into bed, cuddling into each other. Dom went on about his day, and so did you, before you fell asleep in his arms. He looks down at you and smiles. That's my girl.

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Author's note: This sucks ASSSS but I kinda like it so I'm just gonna post it but anyways send me more Dominic requests, smut, fluff, or angst even tho I clearlyyy suck at writing angst despise my whole life being angst lol lol. Okay bye

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Taglist: @babygorewhore @justkeepingitpeachy @taintandviolent

If you want to be added or removed from my tag list, feel free to dm or comment.

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#dominic fike #dominic fike fan fiction #dominic fike smut #dominic fike x reader #dominic fike fanfic #fanfiction #light angst #angst #dominic fike fluff #fluff

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boydepartment · 11 months

Note

Enhypen reaction when you take off your promise ring after an argument pls 🥰🥰

ON IT! TY FOR REQUESTING!!! i apologize that this is late i havent been feeling well but i am powering through :) MASTERLIST PART TWO

Enha Reaction- Promise Rings off

Jungwon- When you guys usually fight it is normally about something small, like who left the fridge open a crack or who accidentally left food out from the night before. Not this time- Jungwon had been out late and hasn't been texting you to update you at all. His excuse was that Sunghoon had to borrow his power bank. You weren't buying it. "I just don't understand how you didn't even think to text me or i dunno use someone else's phone to text me? You've been doing this for the past two weeks!" Your voice was raised and Jungwon's eyebrow quirked up. "What? You think I'm cheating on you or something?" He let out a laugh of disbelief when you didn't answer him, "wow, you seriously think that?" At this point he started laughing. You were absolutely not having it. "Fine keep laughing." You took your promise ring off and slammed it on the table, then you walked out and slammed the door behind you. Jungwon eyed the table and felt his heart drop. Shit

Heeseung- Arguments with Heeseung were not common a lot of the time. You were very easy going and he was very reasonable. Until it came to your relationship being public. "I don't understand why you don't want to go public, the company said it was okay." Heeseung said as you both lay on his bed. His voice was soft. "I am not comfortable with it, I saw how people get when anyone gets even remotely close to any of you." You mumbled and messed with his shirt buttons, it was a nervous habit. "Who cares what they think? I love you and I want to show it." Heeseung said, his tone shifting. Your brows furrowed and you sat up. "Heeseung, I don't want to have this conversation again." You were easy going but you were not one to be pushed around. "Are you ashamed of me or something?" He asked, your jaw fell. "Of course not why would you even think that?" He gave you a look and it stung, "you don't want people to know that we are together." At this point your demeaner fell, "Heeseung I don't want to get followed everywhere I go, I am not giving up my freedom in that sense." "Oh so dating me is giving up your freedom?" When he said that you got up, "maybe it is!" Heeseung got up after you and followed you into the kitchen. "You don't mean that." Heeseung said, you turned around and handed him your promise ring before walking out of his dorm. You did mean that and he was stupid enough to bring it to light.

Jay- "Will you please just listen to me?" Jay pleaded, as he followed you around your apartment. You were being a little unreasonable you know, but what was sprung on you was insane. You SHOULD hear him out but you didn't want to. You have roots here and you were stubborn. "I am not moving just because you want me to." You said trying to distract yourself from this conversation. You had been with Jay since even before he debuted. Whenever they would have a concert in your area he would stay with you for the weekend. This time he wanted you to come back with him. "You'll have my parents and me around you- you said you wanted to be around me more, I'll take care of everything." Jay loved you more than anything and it hurt him everytime he had to leave you in the U.S. "I cant make myself depend on you." You said suddenly, you absolutely refused to let anyone have that much power over you. "What..?" Jay's voice broke. "I cant make myself depend on you for a home, food, a job, I cant give anyone that much power over my life you know this." You leaned against your counter and took a deep breath, "if you cant stand me not being around you and little trips arent cutting it then here." You took off your promise ring and handed it to him. "I am not ready to give my whole life up for someone."

Jake- The dinner at Jake's parents house seemingly went well to him. But you saw the stares and you heard the whispers. To him it went well, to you it was an absolute disaster. They didn't like you very much and they thought you were holding him back. On the car ride to your apartment you were silent while Jake kept talking. "It went so well! Oh I cannot wait until Christmas and then we can have another dinner, it's going to be the absolute best. Don't even get me started on-" You guys pulled up to your apartment complex and he parked. "Jake-" "My mom makes the absolute best-" "Jake." He stopped talking and looked at you, almost immedietly his excited body language came to a stop, you were upset and he knew that. "Baby what's wrong?" "I-I cant go." You stopped looking at him and he grabbed your hand. "What why not? It's so much in the future I'd think you could get the day off right?" "Jake it's not that I just- I cant do this anymore I'm sorry." You quickly took off your promise ring and got out of the car. He was left in shock, watching you speed off and into the complex, when he looked down he saw the ring in the passengers seat and he felt his heart shatter. Jake didnt even know what just happened.

Sunghoon- "Okay seriously? You had to say your ideal type was some other man? You could've easily said ANYTHING else." Sunghoon didn't get mad at you often, but this pressed his buttons. During an interview you got asked who your ideal type was and you said it was some guy from a j-rock group. He didn't even know the guy. "I couldnt say yo-" "Why not?" "Do you know how much of a scandal that would create? I am not putting that on either of us." You said calmly. Sunghoon looked at you and just sighed. At this point you got sort of angry. "You were the one who said you didn't want to go public, I wanted to months ago." "And put you at risk? No way." He said quickly. You stood up now in front of him, "you are so 50/50! You even said your ideal type was another idol!" "I am not and that was over 4 years ago! I am-" "Yes you are! Do you want people to know I'm yours or not?" When Sunghoon didn't say anything- you got nervous. "It's not that I don't want them to know its just- its- its complicated." Your brows furrowed, "fine." You took off your promise ring and handed it to him, "talk to me when it becomes LESS complicated." His jaw dropped and he just stood there. Unable to move as he kept looking down at the ring in his palm.

Sunoo- You had been distant lately, in your defense you had school, a part-time job, and a lot of family stuff going on. You had no energy to do anything. While this was going on Sunoo felt insecure, he thought he did something. He thought you were with someone else. So when he randomly dropped by your abode one day it took you back. "What are you doing here?" You asked as he just waltzed in. "I wanted to stop by." He spoke in a matter of fact tone as he started looking in corners. "What are you looking for?" You asked, leaning against the doorframe, he was scoping your room. "Should I be looking for something? Or someone?" Sunoo said with a look on his face. "What are you talking about?" You already didn't feel well and you didn't want to deal with this at the moment. "Where is he Y/n?" Your brows furrowed and you sat on your bed, a headache already starting, "I don't know who you are talking abt Sunoo." "You've been distant." He said coldly. "SO you think I am cheating on you? Instead of checking in on me you think I'm cheating on you." You were upset now, upset that he didn't trust you, upset that it didn't seem like he cared enough to check in on you. "Should I not?" Sunoo was stubborn and mad and maybe you should have communicated with him better, however, you were still hurt really bad. "Sunoo I am not doing this right now." You took your ring off and set it on the beside table, "just go away." You laid down and didn't look at him. "Y/n...?" "I said go away!" You spoke louder. You didn't want to be around him, little did you know his eyes weren't even on you, they were on the ring shining on the table.

Ni-ki- "Y/n I said leave me alone." Riki said, his voice cold. He just sat there facing his computer. "You wanted me to come over! And now you're just ignoring me!" You sat on one of the bunks, you just finished your homework and you wanted to be around your boyfriend but he was being moody. "Can you just leave? You're annoying me." Riki said as he typed away. Of course he didn't mean it, he had a bad day and he didn't know how to communicate that any noise right now bothered him. "You're being immature right now." You said and crossed your arms, you were pressing his buttons. "Oh I AM BEING IMMATURE?" Riki flipped his chair around and looked at you, "you're the one being stubborn and staying here while I am telling you to leave!" "You aren't communicating with me at all! And you're being really back and forth! I am not being immature I am trying to talk to you!" You were frustrated. "I don't want to talk!" He flipped back around and continued typing. You were mad and you looked down at the ring on your finger. You yanked it off and tossed it on him before leaving. Riki was about to turn around when he saw the ring on the floor. He sighed and hit his head on the desk. He fucked up.

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dayasusays · 2 months

Text

“loneliness as love” partly 18+

bruce wayne x fem!reader

words : 1315

tw / cw : partly sexual content, hard sex, angst, “i know who you pretend i am” stuff, reader is wearing lipstick, mention of exes

for better experience :

you’re just two lonely people trying to pretend to love each other.

as bruce fucks you, gripping your hair you moan muffledly, biting your lip; he's rough tonight, his thrusts fast and precise, hitting the sensitive spots inside. you whimper as wayne puts his fingers to your mouth and smudges your lipstick, making you lick a couple of phalanges: another fetish you don't even know where it came from.

as bruce gives you one last kiss, you close your eyes for a second and imagine that you are loved. imagine that you are not in bed with someone who comes just to fuck, but with someone you love and who loves you back.

you stare at the ceiling, trying to realize what just happened. you promised yourself last time that the next time he came over, you'd say no and tell him like it is: you don't just want sex anymore. but for some reason, you couldn't get a word out of yourself when wayne came close to you and asked how your day was, how work was today and what you had for dinner. smell him and gasp with desire in the same second; feel his hands on your waist and sigh quietly, trying to be closer; feel him inside you and almost cry at how good it felt.

you promise yourself again that you'll stop; that you'll tell him to stop when strong arms pick you up to carry you to bed.

but now, with bruce towering over you, you realize again that you can't say anything.

"i love you," you hear him say as he snuggles closer to you.

"love". wayne always whispered that worthless "love" as if he needed an excuse for all of this; when he fucked you so deep and rough, he kept whispering "love", making you moan wildly; when bruce got up, got dressed, and left, he just kept quiet. and there was no hidden "love" in his silence.

"you don't," you squeeze out, pulling away from his lips, "stop saying that. please," you sigh, your fingers lightly pulling back the material of his suit and going over it.

"you always liked it."

"and i don't like it anymore," you bite back, covering your eyes, "just stop."

and wayne nods slowly, pulling you back into the kiss.

when you open your eyes, all you see in front of you is bruce's face. beautiful, with half closed eyes and a little bit of blood; but it's bruce.

bruce wayne who comes to your house every three days to fuck you good. bruce wayne who whispers that goddamn "i love you" and it doesn't mean anything. bruce wayne you wish you could see someone else in.

you cling to his shoulders and reach for him. kissing so desperately, as if you'd suffocate without his kisses; as if he were a lifeline that would finally help you get rid of these stupid feelings. finally save you from these eternal thoughts and give you peace.

"are you okay?" bruce asks, pulling away and looking into his eyes.

you're not okay.

you know it, but you don't dare answer the question; because wayne was nothing to you. he's nothing now, he was a friend years ago, he was your first boyfriend a little earlier.

but now he's nothing. he's just a sex partner.

"what about you? are you okay?" you answer a question with a question and notice his blue eyes sparkle in the moonlight.

bruce doesn't answer either.

it all makes sense now.

you're not okay and neither is he, which is why you're here now.

in the bedroom of your apartment, kissing and trying to pretend to love each other so that this endless emptiness will just go away; no matter what ways, because it's just unbearable.

feeling unloved hurts. thinking that it will be like that for the rest of your life hurts even more.

so here you are, clinging desperately at wayne and feeling the same desperation in return as he leans closer to seal a kiss on your lips.

when you pull away, you stare again into his soft blue eyes, which are also staring into yours.

you find yourself wanting to cry as you look at bruce: the bat emblem on his suit, the bloodstains on his face, the three-day stubble, the pressed lips.

you see bruce wayne in front of you. batman. gotham hero.

you bury your forehead into his chest, squeezing him in a hug and whispering something inaudible; all he can make out is an apology.

"are you okay?" he repeats his question again, but a little softer.

"no," you say softly, pressing your cheek against his, "and you?"

he doesn't say anything.

and he has absolutely no idea how it started.

you were his friend. then you were his girlfriend. then you were his sex partner.

you broke up peacefully when you realized that love just ran out. and there was nothing wrong with that; it seemed so normal that you just decided to stay friends.

you were there for him when he was going through the most difficult moments of his life, you comforted him and you always knew when and what to say.

at one point you just slept together. and it happened again and again and again until you were distant from each other.

and bruce is sorry.

he's been sorry so many times, and he's wanted your friendship back, but it just seemed impossible.

"are you okay, bruce?"

"no," he feels like he's confessing to the worst crime in human history. "i'm not okay. we're not okay."

he's putting some of his truth into this conversation, and you can't help but agree.

you see bruce wayne in front of you, he sees you in front of him.

and it pains him to admit that when he opens his eyes, he wishes he saw someone else.

you're not her.

you're not the woman who made him feel that flutter in his chest; who kissed him on the rooftops at night; who, at one point, was everything.

"i'm sorry," you whisper, hugging him again.

"what are you apologizing for?"

"i dunno... for all of it," you chuckle bitterly, nervously running your fingers over his.

you're apologizing because you realize you want anyone but him in front of you.

"don't," bruce whispers back, leaving a kiss on the top of your head that means it's okay, "it's not your fault."

he wraps his arms around you, squeezing you as tightly as he can, and says a name that doesn't even remotely sound like yours.

"i miss her," wayne confessed.

"i know," you parry back, pulling away and kissing him again, as if that's supposed to help, "i wish i was her."

he looks into your eyes and swallows when he sees tears in them.

and you both face the ugly truth when you realize how alone you are.

so much so that you call each other when it's completely unbearable; when you need at least someone around to hug, kiss, and eventually make love have sex with.

you almost feel sick at the thought.

"i love you," he says so quietly that only you can hear; so quietly, as if he doesn't want the world to hear it, as if it's almost a secret. and from his lips it sounds like a release.

"i love you," you repeat after bruce, pulling him in for another kiss that feels like salvation.

"i love you" is like "i'll save you" as you throw life preservers to each other and don't notice you're drowning yourself.

"you" and "him" as the "we" you might have become when you bump noses before kissing and apologizing to each other.

"loneliness" as "love" as he looks into your eyes and cries for the first time in over a year.

you're two lonely people trying to pretend to love each other.

ty for reading !! 💌

#Spotify #dc comics #dc universe #writing #angst #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #batman x you #y/n #smut #star

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sofasoap · 9 months

Text

First time - part 1

Pairing : Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!reader

Summary: years of pinning, you find an excuse to get close to your best friend, Kyle.

Part of Gaz Fest 2023

Warning : M rating. Slight angst. Pinning. Friend to lovers. slight talk about bedroom related stuff.

A/N: Thank you @glitterypirateduck for organising the writing festival!! * cheering *

Enjoy!!

Master list

“Kyle.”

“Mmm?” Sipping on his beer, he answered absentmindedly as he watched their group of friends playing darts, competition heating up.

“Can you take my virginity?”

Gaz nearly choked to death. You sighed and lightly thump his back. You knew it was a bad idea. Before he does anything you probably kill him with a heart attack and choking to death with liquid bread.

It took you weeks of self deliberating with the demons and angels and logic vs heart to summon up the courage to ask your friend.

Your best friend.

Your partner in crime

Your childhood crush.

The (one sided) love of your life.

“You… You want me… “ still coughing away, he pointed at himself , and back at you.

One single strong nod, you averted your eyes downwards, your hand fidgeting with the tumbler glass in your hand, not elaborating more.

Shuffling closer to you as he lowers his voice, “Are you Ok? Someone pressuring you? Who’s the asshole?“ Getting agitated, he stood up from chair, ready to defend your honour. To protect you.

Shaking your head as you take a sip of the strong whisky you decided to order to help you loosen up and gives you a bit more courage to ask him. “No one pressured me Kyle. I promise.”

“Then why–” he opened his mouth, confused and … is that bit of hope? As he stares at you, waiting for an answer.

“I… I am just.. “ You are just sick of people’s judgements. All your other friends and workmates talk enthusiastically about their life and sex lives, and you just felt… left out? You don’t know how to contribute to the conversation, since you don't have any stories of your own. The logical side of you knows it’s silly to think that way. You are not a teenager anymore, why would you care about others opinion or letting the social norms affect you?

Or , deep down, you just want to fit in. Want to be part of the “club.” Or the selfish part of you is just trying to find some sort of excuse, to be intimate with Kyle.

And you are just too scared to declare your love to him, straight on.

You have had a crush on Kyle since the day you met him. His family moved next door to yours when you were five.

You hid behind your mum as his parents stood at your door, introducing themselves. You saw a boy, not much older than you, with short curly hair, standing between them.

The two of you became fast friends. Getting up to all sorts of mischieves around the neighbourhood. He was the brain of the plot and you were the executor of the plan.

You slowly fall for him as you get older. That little butterfly that starts flipping in your stomach every time you see him. His brilliant smile shows his pearly whites every time he sees your face. The way he greets you is always different from his friends, protecting you, entrusting you with his greatest secret. Make you laugh. Comfort you in sadness. How he always prefers to sit beside you at gatherings, and offers to take you home.

Both of your parents thought the two of you will end up together, since how well two of you get along with each other. So did you.

Your heart was totally crushed when he introduced you to his first date, excitedly.

“ I want you to be the first one to meet them. Since you are my best friend.”

The amount of tears that you shredded that night. And the night after. But you put on a brave face, for yourself, for your family, for your friends.

And for him.

You don’t want him to be laden with your worries. You know him too well, even if he doesn’t love you the way you love him, he still cares about you.

Protect you and ready to defend you when he senses a change of mood in you.

Your knight in shining armour.

The brother you have from a different mother. But nothing more.

Reaching out and patting his hand, trying to reassure him and also calming down your own nerves, “I am fine. Well, sort of. But.. I've been thinking lately. I just.. “Shaking your head, “ I just want to experience what it is like, “ To be with you. “There is no one else I trust more than you, to take care of me.”

He frowned as he gripped your hands tight. “I am not going to do it if there’s no love involved.” he insisted. Pressing his lip together, contemplating something before he open his mouth again. “Let's forget about this. You are drunk, sunflower, come on. Let’s get you home.”

You feel like your heart has been shattered again for the second time. By him. That pet name just added to the pain.

“Sunflower?”

“You are like a sunflower!” Kyle smiled. The families were on a camping trip once, and two of you were lying on the field of grass after running around and chasing each other. He sat up, looked down at you with his signature smile, “You brighten up my day, and I am always in a happier mood after I see you!”

Grabbing your bag, you stood up immediately, ready to dash out the pub door, embarrassed. You shouldn’t have asked. Well done, You think to yourself. Now you have totally ruined the friendship. How stupid can you be? There was that little sliver of hope when your mutual friends gave you the nudge and shove;

“You still haven’t told him your feelings?” “Shhhhh shut the hell up!!” you hissed. Clamping their mouth with your hands. “Can you be any louder???”

“You…” your friend swatted your hand away, looking at you as if you had grown a horn on your head, “are you kidding me.. “ they mumbled. “ Look, you know what, just talk to him. You might be surprised.”

You ignore his calls and the way your friends look at you, holding tight onto your jacket and bag as you hold back the tears that threaten to burst the dam. Before you could raise your hand and call for a cab, you felt a hand around your waist, pulling you in.

That familiar warmth. Your once safety net. But now it hurts too much to be so close to him, to feel him.

Because he doesn’t belong to you.

“Kyle.. Let go of me.” whispering, trying to hold yourself together, but you can feel your voice cracking.

“No.” pulling you into his chest, he buried his face into the crook of your neck. “I am sorry.”

“For what?”

“For hurting you.”

Wriggling around to face him, putting your hand on his chest to create a bit of gap between you and him, but keeping your head down, “I should be the one apologising, I shouldn’t have asked you such stupid thing.” your voice barely above a whisper as you try to push yourself out from his embrace. “Let’s just.. I am going home.”

“And not going to hear my answer to your request?”

You froze.

I don't know what this is. but def smut coming next chap. of sort. * blame the three glasses of reds I had * I keep changing my mind what I want to write, from crack to fluff to one shot, and now it's turning into two-part series.

Tag list:

@deadbranch

@kaplerrr

@homicidal-slvt

@voxyin

@lia0-0

@floral-force

@saltofmercury

@siilvan

@rileyslibrarian

@mistydeyes

@okayyadriana

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

@jynxmirage

@nrdmssgs @schr-torta @glitterypirateduck @devcica @cumikering @roosterr

@groguspicklejar

@obsolescent @whydoilikewhump

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whatsnewalycat · 7 months

Text

Psychomanteum / Chapter 14

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Louella (2nd POV)

Chapter 14: Wish You Were Here

Chapter Summary: Dieter takes action.

Word Count: 9.9k+

Content / Warnings: dieter pov, implications of suicidal thoughts, swearing, alcohol use, airplane, uncertainty, parker/jackie, infidelity (not our heroes), thoughts of cocaine use/relapse, opera, fame, very vague understanding of the criminal justice system excuse that pls, bribery, lotta fucking dialogue, lotta yearning and self-reflection, angst, our boy is a big sappy mess and we love him for it

Notes: Chapter title from “Wish You Were Here” by Pink Floyd. First and foremost, everything is gonna be ok, ok? I promise. Also, good news for people who like this story—since we’re nearing the end, I’m going to make it my primary writing focus for a while. Will be posting to AO3 later bc I can’t from mobile it’s a nightmare.

[ Previous Chapter ] [ Series Masterlist ] [ Next Chapter ]

— Dieter senses your absence before he even opens his eyes.

Oftentimes you wake before him, still weaning off your internal alarm of 5:30AM EST (not-a-fucking-chance o’clock PST). When this happens, you brew some coffee and drink your morning cup in bed, passing the time by reading, or fucking around on your phone, or writing in your journal.

Most of the time he opens his eyes and finds you deeply engrossed in one of these activities. Sometimes you’re cuddled up into his side, silently tracing patterns onto his skin. Even when you’re not in the same room when he wakes, he can still feel you, your life force brushing up against his.

But this morning is different.

Dieter winces at the morning light and sits up, rubbing his face before looking around the room. He clears his throat, then calls out your name.

It echoes back to him.

The silence that follows is eerie and distinct, its vacuousness an exclamation point that hurts his ears.

How can nothing be so loud?

Swinging his feet over the side of the bed, he goes to grab his phone off the nightstand and instead finds a note with his name on it. He sits there staring at it for a minute, rubbing the layered notebook paper between his fingertips.

The gears in his brain start to turn.

He looks at the armchair where your suitcase has been sitting the week and a half. It’s gone.

Understanding twists his guts bowtie.

Denying the cardstock confrontation, Dieter puts on a robe and searches the house.

He finds nothing.

Each empty room accumulates buzzing and hot beneath his skin.

He goes outside.

The patio, the garage, the driveway, the street.

Calling your name like a kid who lost his mom in a department store, panic building with every utterance, a desperate crescendo.

By the time he returns to the origin point, his thoughts are stumbling over one another trying to explain what the fuck could be possibly be happening, because this can’t be real.

It’s a joke, it’s a terrible joke that you’ll laugh about later—or, no, there was an emergency and you had to go—but wouldn’t you wake him? Wouldn’t you tell him? Maybe you went to the store and you’ll be right back. But why would you bring your suitcase?

He snatches the paper off his nightstand and unfolds it.

—

Dee,

I need you to know this isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. I love you as much as humanly possible, and then some. Please understand that I couldn’t make you choose. That burden shouldn’t rest on you.

I’m sorry for ruining everything. I’m sorry for leaving like this. I’m sorry for not giving you a choice.

I love you with everything I am.

Until the next life,

Lua

PS: I stole some cash from your wallet. I’m sorry for that, too.

—

The words don’t compute at first.

He shakes his head and reads it again.

And again.

A thousand-pound weight drops his stomach to the floor. Adrenaline pumps through his heart and turns his limbs gelatin. Blood whooshes behind his ears, and—God, he’s going to be fucking sick.

The note wavers in his grip and the text starts to blur.

This isn’t right.

This can’t be happening.

He needs to talk to you right fucking now.

Overcome with this sudden rush of panic, Dieter grabs his phone off the nightstand, ignoring the barrage of notifications littering the screen, and calls you.

The line trills, and further away, he hears “I’ll Be Your Mirror” by The Velvet Underground and Nico play.

He follows the noise into the kitchen, where your phone buzzes on the countertop, displaying your contact photo for him. The one where you’re both mid-laugh with red lipstick and black face paint smudged all around your faces.

Your voicemail picks up.

“Hey, this is Louella, sorry I missed you. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back, thanks.”

A tone signals the start of recording. Dieter clears his throat, then says, “Hey, doll. It’s me. This is probably stupid because your phone is here, but I don’t know,” he pauses to gather himself as everything around him becomes blurred by tears. When he speaks again, his voice is somehow gummy and ragged at the same time, “I don’t know what to do. You’re gone, and there’s this note and… Fuck, whatever it is, we can figure it out. Please, Louella—Lua, baby, I love you. If you hear this somehow, please call me.”

When he hangs up, all he can do is stand there, staring at her phone.

The air particles around him throb with this deep, dense sorrow that cracks him wide open and hollows him out. It’s heavy. Infinite. All-consuming, like loss on loss on loss on loss.

He knows, like he just knows things, that this is what you were feeling before you left. He knows you left your phone so nobody could find you.

Beyond that, though… It's a brick wall. He tries, although he doesn’t really understand what the fuck he’s doing, to send out some kind of a psychic ping. Sometimes he can get a sense of you this way.

This time he gets nothing.

He can’t hone in on anything, can’t even feel the rough edges of your life force. The string that connects your tin cans has been severed.

What the fuck does that mean?

The not-knowing makes him anxious. His imagination starts wander deeper into the dark forest, showing him taxis and mirrors and riverbeds and—

Your phone jumps to life.

It starts ringing to the tune of “Take Your Mama” by Scissor Sisters, lighting up with a photo of you and Parker.

He scrambles to grab it and answers, “Parker—”

“Dieter?”

“Is she with you? Do you know where she is?”

“What do you mean? Isn’t she with you?”

“No, I just woke up and she’s fucking gone and there’s this note,” he sighs and throws his hand out at his side, “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“A note, what does the note say?”

“Hang on, let me,” he tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder, rummaging through the pockets of his robe, “Here we go, ok…”

He reads it to Parker, who remains silent for a long while afterwards.

“Until the next life?”

The tips of his ears heat up, and he runs a hand through his hair, “Yeah.”

“Have you talked to anyone else this morning?”

“No, I just woke up,” he starts pacing the length of his kitchen island, explaining, “Last night we were talking about moving in together, having her come out here, and… I don’t know, did I fucking scare her off or something? She seemed into it, but maybe I’m wrong, maybe I was going too fast—”

“Whoa whoa whoa, ok, slow down, papi,” Parker interjects, “It’s not like that. Her apartment was raided this morning.”

Dieter frowns, “Wait, what?”

“Yeah, some fucking journalist went poking around, talking to her neighbors and shit, digging into stuff about Ethan, their business, all that. He brought it all to the cops and demanded they do something about it, so they got a search warrant.”

Dieter stays quiet as his mind whirrs, trying to comprehend this information.

Parker continues.

“I went over there this morning, just to check in on the place, and it was fucking crawling with cops. I FaceTimed Lou and told her, then she hung up and I haven’t been able to reach her since. Figured she was talking to you, but…”

Poisoned words cycle through his head, begging to be released, but he traps them behind clamped lips.

“I called Reese to see if he knew anything, since he bumps elbows with a lotta those criminal justice guys, you know?”

“Reese?” Dieter furrows his brow, “Married guy? I thought you were done with him.”

“Yeah, well,” a sigh crackles in his ear, then Parker says, “Good thing I’m not. Turns out, he’s friends with the DA. He told Reese about the journalist shit, said they have a warrant out for Lou. Wanted on possession with intent to distribute and drug trafficking for the pot stuff, oh—and possession of cocaine, because apparently they found one of Ethan’s hiding spots.”

“Fuck.”

“I know.”

Hundreds of thoughts ricochet around his head screaming for attention. The whole goddamn dashboard is lit up and blaring WARNING WARNING WARNING—

The nausea returns. Dieter plucks a half-smoked joint from the ashtray on his countertop and lights it, then turns and slides down the cabinet onto the kitchen floor.

He takes a few hits, waiting until the overwhelm dims a bit before whispering, “Fuck, Parker, this is bad.”

“I know, baby, I know.”

The skunky smoke burns his lungs as he inhales again, holding holding holding, then lets it go.

Things start to slow down enough for him to backtrack, “Did you say a journalist?”

“Yeah, Reese couldn’t get a name, but there was this guy outside the building this morning who was—oh, fuck.”

“What oh fuck?” Dieter wrinkles his nose at the roach and takes one more drag before stubbing it out on the shiny hardwood floor.

“It was that point dexter motherfucker that did your interview. That was the guy! And I was on a video call with Lou—”

Parker cuts himself off with a gasp.

I couldn’t make you choose.

“Oh fuck,” Dieter breathes, “I gotta call you back.”

He hangs up and trades your phone for his own, rejecting an incoming call from Darlene.

It takes him three seconds to find it.

Dieter Bravo Girlfriend Wanted On Drug Trafficking Charges, Claims In Email to DIRT: “He Was In The Dark”

The header presented at the top of the article is your mugshot from your previous arrest. Your eyes appear puffy and dull and hopeless. Below it, the article continues:

Dieter Bravo’s newest girlfriend reportedly has a warrant out for her arrest in relation to drug trafficking charges.

Early this morning, the NYPD hit Louella Friedman’s Downtown Brooklyn apartment with a search warrant. Friedman was not present at the time the warrant was executed, so no arrests have been made, but law enforcement sources tell us that she is now wanted by the state of New York on multiple drug charges.

This is not Friedman's first run-in with the law. Just days ago, she appeared alongside Dieter Bravo for an exclusive interview with DIRT, in which she admitted to being convicted of felony drug trafficking in 2018. She stated during this interview that she has “changed a lot since then … we don’t want people to think we’re trying to hide any of this, because we’re not. We’re just trying to move forward together.”

The email we received from Friedman this morning paints a different picture:

“As you probably know, my apartment is being raided. I need one thing to be clear: Dieter is not complicit. He didn’t know about and did not take part in my illegal activity. He was in the dark. My mistakes are my own, and I ask that the blame be placed appropriately.”

It’s assumed that Friedman is still in the LA-area, as she and Bravo have been spotted out and about a few times this week. Before that, the pair were seen in New York, which leads us to wonder how much time the Academy Award winner actually spent in her apartment.

Bravo himself has a notoriously checkered past with drugs, and although his antics have been subdued since the “publicity stunt” for the movie Limbo (premiering next May), it wouldn’t be considered out of character for him to become knowingly involved with a drug dealer.

DIRT will continue reporting as this story unfolds.

—

The first person Dieter calls is Lincoln, who answers on the second ring with a cheerful, “Good morning, Dieter!”

“Lincoln, where the fuck are you?”

“I’m grabbing breakfast from that pla—”

“Change of plans,” Dieter leafs through the clothes hanging in his closet, “Get over here now.”

“What about—”

“Listen, I need you to get me the next flight to New York. And, uhh,” he rips a few shirts off their hangers and tosses them into the open suitcase on the floor, “Clear your schedule for at least two days. I need you to housesit.”

“Is everything alright?”

Dieter ponders the question for just a moment, long enough for a sharp ache to pierce through his chest, then says, “Hurry the fuck up, ok?”

He hangs up.

The second person he calls is his lawyer.

When he tells the guy about your situation, he says, “Well, it sounds like there’s enough room for deniability, I don’t think they’ll bring charges against you—”

“Yeah, no shit,” Dieter scoffs, “What about her, how could she get out of this?”

“With all due respect, Dieter, you’re my client, not her.”

“Come on, man. What if, you know, I was in her situation?”

On the other line, the lawyer sucks his teeth, then says, “Well, theoretically speaking, you would be looking to either turn yourself in or see if you could get the charges dropped.”

“How would one get the charges dropped?”

“The District Attorney would need to drop them.”

“Uh-huh,” Dieter nods and rubs his lips, then queries, “And if—you know, like you said, theoretically—if he were to be convinced to drop the charges—”

“See, that is a tight line to walk, and one must tread very carefully, you understand? Many methods people attempt to use in persuading district attorneys, for example, bribery or blackmail, get sticky quick. They offer the wrong amount of money, or don’t get enough dirt, or what have you, then they’re in a world of hurt.”

“Well, sure. Those people don’t use their head. But if someone wanted to just… sit down and talk to him, would that automatically raise a red flag?”

“Depends. If someone of similar notoriety as you reached out to him to set up a meeting, it might raise a red flag. But if they happened to run into each other… probably not as much.”

“I see.”

The front door swings open and he looks up, expecting to see Lincoln, but instead locks eyes with Darlene. She’s holding a phone to her ear and says, “Yeah, he’s here.”

“I gotta go,” he says, then hangs up the phone and greets Darlene, “Hey.”

Her heels click-clack on the floor as she strides over, taps on the screen of her phone, and says, “Ok, Mark, you’re on speaker. Dieter’s here.”

Darlene sets the phone down on the counter and starts rummaging through the leather bag hanging off her shoulder. The phone speaks:

“Dieter, we need to talk. Is Louella there?”

“No.”

“Is she going back to New York?”

Not sure how to answer the question, Dieter rolls his eyes, “Is that what this is about?”

“Yeah, look, this isn’t good. I’ll cut to the chase. If you endorse her claim and cut ties, we can keep you on, but if you don’t, we gotta let you go, bud.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Darlene answers this time, “We’re serious, Dieter. The optics are terrible—”

“The fucking optics, un-fucking-believable,” he mutters, pushing off the counter to pace the kitchen.

“Is it really unbelievable?” Darlene blinks, her scathing gaze steady on his, “Coke head dating a felon who’s wanted on drug charges? You don’t see how studios will react to that?”

He doesn’t answer. She continues.

“If you release a statement corroborating her story, explaining how you didn’t know, and things are over between you—”

A groan of agony rises in his throat.

“—it will work. She gave you an out, Dieter. Take it.”

His nostrils flare. Heat rises to his face and he hisses, “You never liked her, did you?”

Darlene scoffs, “What?”

“Did you even give her a chance, or did you just write her off the second you met her? That shit weasel from DIRT is the one that set all these fucking dominos up, did you know that?”

“No, of course not—”

“Dieter,” Mark sighs, “This isn’t personal. Look at the facts. You’ve done three stints in rehab just within the past decade. Beasts of the Bubble depicted you as a drug addict—Christ, you overdosed in that hotel. You just got divorced, had a ton of bad press from that. Now you’re in this very new, very serious relationship with a widowed felon. And, what, a week after swearing she’s a law-abiding citizen, cops find enough shit in her apartment to issue a warrant for her arrest? Do you know how that makes you look? Does it sound like you’re a person anyone could trust to sign onto a project?”

Dieter presses his palms against the kitchen counter and leans over the phone, “It sounds like you’ve already made a choice, Mark. You wanna drop me as a client, just fucking do it.”

“If you make a public statement saying you were shocked to find out that she took advantage of your vulnerable state, you’re not using, blah blah blah, this could go away relatively quickly. Most likely she’d be painted as a con woman or gold digger or something along those lines, which makes you the victim. Granted, that makes you look a bit like a sucker, but we can live with that.”

The nausea returns.

“I can’t,” Dieter shakes his head, “I’m sorry, but I can’t live with that. Saying that she tried to steal my money—god, not a fucking chance in hell—”

“Of course, you wouldn’t say that,” Darlene cuts in, “People might infer that, is all Mark means. You know how this works—”

“Yes, I do know how it works. And no, I can’t. I won’t. It’s all fucking bullshit, the whole thing. Darlene, you’re bullshit,” he directs his voice to the phone, “Mark, you’re fucking bullshit. Fucking… optics and public opinion and the two of you trying to stage direct my fucking life—my life. Mine. I am my own person. And I love her. I’m going to find her, and fix this, and spend the rest of my fucking life with her even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else but us.”

Darlene holds up her hand, “Dieter, you’re making a mistake—”

He laughs.

It booms, dry and humorless, through the house.

She jumps in surprise at the noise, then looks at him like he’s fucking crazy. Which is fair. He sounds fucking crazy.

But for once, he feels completely sane.

His spine straightens flag pole and he shakes his head, “Trust me, Darlene. I’m not.”

They sit there, staring at each other in a silent standoff. Her hazel eyes flick around his face, then drop to the phone.

“Mark, I’ll call you back.”

Darlene ends the call before Mark can respond and stomps around the dining room table to a solid oak credenza, popping the top off one of the decanters of booze.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I need a drink.”

“It’s 10am.”

Whiskey sloshes into the crystal tumbler. Darlene glances over her shoulder at him, holding up the bottle in question. He sighs, which she interprets correctly as a yes, and pours a second glass.

Dieter murmurs a thanks when she returns and hands it to him. He takes a big swallow of the liquor. Leaning back on the counter beside him, she does the same.

“How’s she doing?”

His stomach twists.

He takes another swig and shrugs, then digs the note from his robe pocket and gives it to her.

She reads it, then passes it back and empties her whiskey down her throat.

“Fuck.”

“My thoughts exactly,” he mutters into the tumbler as he drinks the remaining booze in one large, burning gulp.

“So you don’t know where she is?”

Dieter pinches his eyes closed, tilting his head up at the ceiling, and shakes his head, “She was gone when I woke up. Took her suitcase. Left her phone, funny enough.”

After a brief silence, she tells him, “I didn’t know David was looking into her. Even if I did, I would never try to get her in trouble. You know that, right?”

He shrugs. His shoulders weigh a million pounds.

“Look,” she sighs, “Maybe I don’t see whatever it is you see in her, but I do see that you love each other.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think she’s turning herself in?”

He furrows his brow and looks down at the floor, shaking his head, “No.”

Dieter breathes it in, that palpable emotion still clinging to the air. He sinks into the dense, dark feeling—blackest ink in the world—letting it carry him downstream. There’s a glimmer of something. A spark of you.

He speaks it out loud.

“She’s in the fucking woods now.”

“In the woods? Dieter, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, scrubbing his face with his hands, “I don’t fucking know. I’m scared, you know, with the note…”

He doesn’t want to say it. If he doesn’t speak it into existence, maybe it won’t be true, that you’re looking for a place to die. Like how dogs do when they’re ready, crawling off into isolation to protect their loved ones.

Darlene stays quiet.

He swallows hard and starts pacing the kitchen floor again, running his fingers through his hair, “If I can get the DA to drop the charges, maybe it won’t be too late. Maybe I can fix this. But I have to find her, too.“ A hot rush of frustration overtakes him. He slams his fist down on the countertop with a thud and barks, “FUCK!”

“Ok,” Darlene turns to face him, placing a hand on his arm, “It’s gonna be ok—”

“But what if it’s not?”

Emotion clouds his vocal cords and vision, warping both into a wet, smeary mess as he says, “What if she fucking—fuck, Darlene, what if she goes through with this? I can’t do this without her. I won’t.”

“We don’t know that this is a suicide note—”

His whole body twists up into a snarl, a guttural moan rising from his throat as the idea shreds him to bits. He shakes his head in protest, because he does, he knows that’s what this is, but he can’t fucking bear to speak its name.

Darlene watches him unravel for a moment before taking the crystal tumblers back to the credenza for a refill. When she returns, she holds one out to him and asks, “We need a plan to track her down. Have any ideas?”

He rolls his head on his shoulders to look at her, glancing down at the cup, “We?”

She nudges him again, so he takes it and sips while she grimaces, “If I didn’t raise hell about the interview and get David in trouble… who knows, maybe we wouldn’t be here. I doubt he was looking to write an exposé on her before that.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” he shrugs, “Doesn’t matter now.”

“Still, I’m… sorry,” she stares down at her glass and swirls the amber liquid around a bit while telling him, “The contract, too. I’m sorry about that. Like Mark said, it’s not personal. It’s business.”

“I know.”

“You’re sure, though? That you don’t want to corroborate her story?”

“Yes, I’m sure I don’t want to throw the love of my life under the fucking bus, Darlene.”

She holds up a hand in defense, “Ok—”

“Even if that’s what she wanted me to do, no fucking way. She’s a good fucking person and I won’t sit here and agree with people saying she’s some fucking lowlife, because she’s not—”

“Ok ok ok—Dieter, I understand. I was just making sure.”

He huffs and takes a drink.

An uncomfortable silence settles over them. The booze starts to course heat through Dieter’s veins, sedating his agitation, making his head swim.

“If you’re not my publicist anymore, why the fuck are you still here?”

“Because I’m still your friend.”

He looks over at her, meeting her hazel eyes, and senses sincerity.

His jaw works back and forth. He takes another drink, then tells her, “I’m going to New York to meet with the DA. Lincoln should be here any minute, he’ll stay here in case she comes back while I’m gone. I’m gonna have him try to track her whereabouts, see if she left any breadcrumbs—”

“You have a meeting with the DA?”

“Not… necessarily.”

“Then, what—” she pinches the bridge of her nose, “I don’t wanna know, do I?”

“Doubt it.”

“Right,” she sighs, shakes her head, then starts pacing, “Well, if Lincoln is here, he can call around to places, but I’m assuming you don’t want him to leave the house? In case she comes back?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll help follow up. Call around, and if needed, go to the places she might be. See if I can’t track her down.”

Hope swells in his chest. His posture softens, and he nods, “Thank you.”

She waves him off, “You said she left her phone, right?”

“Yeah, uhh,” he pulls it from his robe pocket and stares at the lock screen, “I felt, I dunno, weird… about going through it. So I haven’t yet.”

Darlene holds out her manicured hand, so he gives it to her.

“Zero two one four eight eight.”

She types in the passcode and starts tapping around as she paces, sipping her whiskey every now and then.

Meanwhile, Dieter finishes his drink and stares at the empty glass, wavering back and forth on whether or not to pour another. A hungry buzzing works through the tendons in his neck. There’s an old, familiar voice at the back of his head, urging him for more more more, begging, pleading for sedation, anything to make these big feelings less so.

Booze would be great, but you have the morphine, too, or the coke, fuck—now would be the perfect time for coke. It would straighten out your thoughts. Sharpen you. It could help you, Dieter, really. Help you clear your head and get to the bottom of this fucking mess, it could be the thing that saves her—

“She made an outbound call this morning,” Darlene murmurs as she punches the number into her phone, then raises it to her ear.

Dieter hears the faint voice from the speaker answer, “Hollywood Checker Cabs, how can I help you?”

She snaps her fingers at Dieter and pantomimes writing. He scrambles around the kitchen trying to find paper and a writing utensil while she asks, “Hi, my friend ordered a cab early this morning and I’m trying to track where she might’ve been dropped off, can you help me with that?”

Dieter finds a notebook on the counter. He pulls the pen from its spine and writes down your phone number and full name, then slides it over the island counter to Darlene, who nods and reads your phone number, then says, “Yeah, she called at 5:32, the pickup is—yep, that’s it, that’s her.”

She grabs the pen and starts scribing. Every few seconds she murmurs an uh-huh or ok.

Behind her, the door to the garage swings open and in comes Lincoln, carrying a brown paper bag and a backpack.

Concern creases his forehead as he approaches, and drops the paper bag on the counter, whispering to Dieter, “What’s going on?”

“Shh.”

Darlene glances up at them, then back at the notebook, and nods, “That’s incredibly helpful, thank you. Appreciate it.”

When she hangs up, she says, “The driver dropped her off at Union Station around 6:30 this morning,” then continues typing in her phone, “From there, she could’ve taken another taxi, or a bus, or a train—”

“She took a bus.”

Lincoln asks, “Who took a bus? Lua?”

They both ignore the question. Darlene blinks up at Dieter, and before she can question him, he shrugs, “Gut feeling.”

“Gut feeling,” she snorts, shaking her head, and tosses her phone in her bag with a sigh, “Well, I’ll drive over there and see if she’s still there. When does your flight leave?”

Dieter looks at Lincoln, who perks up and pulls out his phone, “Let’s see… A car will be here in… fifteen.”

“I’ll call you when I know more, ok?” Darlene says as she pulls her purse up onto her shoulder. She regards Dieter for a second or two before patting him on the shoulder, “We’re gonna find her.”

He doesn’t trust himself to verbalize the uncertainty churning in his guts, so he acknowledges the sentiment with a flaccid smile and a nod, thinking, “I fucking hope so.”

—

“Hey, this is Louella, sorry I missed you. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back, thanks.”

“Hey, love. I’m, uhh… leaving you an update, I guess. I’m going to New York to sort this shit out, talk to some people, see what I can do. But if you get this somehow, please, baby… please come home. Ok. I love you, bye.”

—

Suspended miles above the Midwest, with Dieter packed in a tin can alongside all the other mouth-breathing sardines, the in-flight WiFi goes out.

He tries watching a movie, but none of the information computes. His mind keeps wandering to you. What you’re doing, where you are, why you didn’t just fucking wake him up and talk to him.

Seconds twist under his skin.

The minutes lodge inside his throat.

The tiny screen could be showing him fucking anything, and his demeanor wouldn’t change a drop.

Tight-lipped. Hostile. Dead-eyed.

That’s what he gleans, anyway, from the way people react to his presence. The downcast glances and wide berths. How the flight attendant doesn’t even try to protest when he requests four mini-bottles of vodka.

Wincing with every swallow, Dieter drinks them and scrolls through his text history with you. It’s not uncommon for him to do this while idly passing the time alone, within the past few months especially.

Re-reading each conversation, admiring the photos and screenshots, allowing himself to daydream about you… usually, he finds it comforting.

This time it’s different.

It’s steeped in the knowledge that he may never receive another message from you.

Flipping his phone face down on the little shitty tray, he looks up at the Q*bert air vent and releases a big sigh. The thoughts of you creep back into his brain. He doesn’t shoo them away, though. It’s fucking pointless.

Please understand that I couldn’t make you choose. That burden shouldn’t rest on you.

A burden.

What a load of shit.

As if he wouldn’t let hellfire lick his bones to dust for one more earthly second with you. As if you don’t revive him every single time your lips meet his. As if he could breathe without you in the atmosphere.

Of fucking course he would choose you.

Over anything, really. Especially acting. Fuck, maybe that’s exactly what he needs. It’s all just stupid Hollywood bullshit anyway. Being owned by a dozen different people at any point in time. Everyone trying to get their finger in the goddamn pie. He’s tired of being a billboard first and a human second.

The more he thinks about it, the madder he gets. He douses his stomach with vodka, thinking about the fame machine, how it chewed you up and spit you out in no time at all.

He resents the public spotlight. His whole adolescence, he dreamed of having a successful career as an actor. He worked hard and got lucky and his dreams came to life, and now, well… he’s right back where he started.

Watching, helpless and terrified, as the person he loves gets pummeled half to death.

—

Dieter leans on the doorframe and gives apartment 14C three firm knocks.

The blaring music inside cuts. Parker stomps up to the other side of the door, “Who is it?”

“Fucking Santa Claus, who do you think?”

A thunk sounds from the deadbolt, then Parker swings the door open, propping a hand on his hip and shaking his head, “Santa Claus? Really?”

His face is fully dragged up in the style of Jackie Lantern, with blue eyeshadow and hot pink lips and harsh contour, while the rest of him is Regular Parker, with sweatpants and a baggy Bikini Kill t-shirt.

“Ho ho ho,” Dieter enters the cozy, dimly lit apartment and pulls him into a one-armed hug, “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too,” Parker mumbles as he wraps his lanky arms around Dieter and squeezes, “Wish it was under better circumstances.”

“Me too, bud,” Dieter takes a step back and ventures into what looks like a new-age opium den.

Incense and pot smoke cloud the air. A loom-woven tapestry, depicting a unicorn standing triumphant in a field of wildflowers, takes up almost the entire wall behind a well-worn sofa. On the opposite wall, at least 50 framed bug specimens hang on display.

Between the deep-seated couch and the TV sits a big octagonal coffee table, its glass top all littered with books and water bottles and cannabis paraphernalia.

Dieter, finding none of this surprising, looks around and nods, “Nice place.“

Parker bolts the door closed and turns to scan Dieter up and down, “Nice suit.”

“I hate this fucking thing,” he mutters, rolling his shoulders in a feeble attempt to make more room inside the jacket, then points to Parker’s sweatpants, “Is that what you’re wearing?”

“Shade,” Parker scoffs and starts off down the short hallway into his bedroom, “I’ll be ready in a minute, help yourself to whatever.”

“Where do you keep your liquor?”

“On top of the fridge.”

Dieter wanders into the kitchen and grabs a bottle of whiskey from its home, then starts flipping through cabinets. When he finds the one with cups, he calls out to Parker, “Want a drink?”

“Lord, please.”

He unscrews the cap and pours two generous servings. Before returning the bottle, he takes a pull off it. The cheap booze burns the whole way down, settling like fire in his belly.

Parker comes stomping back into the room, clawing at the back of his blue sequin gown, “Do me a favor, love, help me zip this?”

Dieter signals for him to spin around, then guides the zipper up his bony back as Parker asks, “Any updates from your neck of the woods?”

He taps on his shoulder, giving him the all clear.

Parker turns and leans back against the galley kitchen’s countertop opposite Dieter, who hands him a drink.

“Yeah,” Dieter nods, takes a sip of the shitty whiskey, then explains, “Darlene was able to convince the security team at Union Station to let her review footage from this morning. At 6:30 this morning, Lua boarded a Greyhound bus that dropped her off in Fresno around 11:00. Darlene couldn’t get much over the phone from them, so she’s driving up there to raise hell, see what she can find out.”

The words come out dull and matter-of-fact. Offline, disconnected from the treasure chest labeled LUA.

Parker studies him, “How’re you holding up, papi, you doing ok?”

“No.”

He stares down into his cup and thinks he should probably say something else, but comes up with nothing. It feels both pointless and too painful.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

When he glances up at Parker, and their eyes meet, he recognizes the melancholy there. His own, reflected back at him.

He shifts a little and adds, “After we get this part over with, though, maybe we can… I don’t know, get hammered, cry about it. Drown our sorrows or whatever. If you want.”

The corner of Parker’s hot pink lips turns up in a smirk and he chuckles, “Long as we don’t get arrested doing this stupid ass shit, I will take you up on that.”

“We’re not gonna get arrested, I promise. He’ll take the offer.”

“And how do you know that?”

Dieter could make a reference to The Godfather here, or mention the thick wads of cash lining his Armani suit, but thinks better of it. Probably best he doesn’t know.

Instead, he asks, “Do you trust me?”

“You know we wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Then trust me, we’re gonna be fine. Just follow the plan.”

Parker snorts and shakes his head, muttering something about ‘you cryptic ass motherfucker’ into his glass as he takes a sip.

Dieter drinks, too, then tells him, “I like your dress.”

“Thanks,” he smiles, eyes flicking to the clock on the stove, “Fuck, I gotta finish getting ready or we’re gonna be late.”

“Can I pick out your hair?”

Parker groans a little, feigning annoyance. He pushes off the counter and starts towards his room, “Fine, but I reserve the right to veto.”

—

“Hey, this is Louella, sorry I missed you. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back, thanks.”

“Hey, doll, it’s me. I’m uhh… in New York, at Parker’s place—”

“Who are you talking to?”

“I’m leaving her a message.”

“Give it, I wanna say something.”

“Just hold on—”

“Hey Miss Lou, I love you, I miss you, and let me tell you, your boy is a goddamn mess. And, um… so am I. I’m worried about you—we’re worried about you. Just… let us know you’re ok, ok?”

“Me again. We’re gonna go fix this. I love you, Louella. Please come home.”

—

Instead of conversing en route to the Metropolitan Opera House, they pass a flask of whiskey back and forth and occasionally sing along to the music on Jackie Lantern’s “PUSSY POWER” playlist.

Although neither of them mention it, Dieter knows they’re essentially doing the same thing. Hyping themselves up. Trying to ban the performance anxiety from their brains as they get into character.

By the time he and Parker arrive at Metropolitan Opera House, the booze has fully assimilated into Dieter’s bloodstream.

Thank fucking god.

It grinds down the coarse edges of reality and allows him to slip effortlessly into a familiar skin.

Dieter Bravo: Washed-up Actor.

Dieter Bravo: Party Monster.

Dieter Bravo: Brazen Jackass.

A carefully curated persona so convincing, it had him fooled for years before you coaxed the real him out of hiding.

That guy, the real him, or whatever the fuck, is not the right man for this job. Too soft. Too emotional. Guy is a pansy, he would fucking cry or make a scene or something.

Seriously.

He has no jurisdiction here.

Here, in this glitzy opera house, among the other black-tie patrons who regard him and Jackie Lantern with a kind of grotesque curiosity that guy couldn’t fucking handle.

But, Dieter Bravo: Attention Whore?

Eating. This. Shit. Up.

“Literal fucking pearl clutching, ho-ly shit,” he murmurs to Jackie’s big, white blonde afro wig as they walk up the red carpeted stairs into the lobby.

It opens up into a huge space that reminds him of a cave.

Brightly-lit, thanks to the starburst chandeliers dripping from the ceiling like stalactites, but a cave all the same. All four stories of shining white marble look to be hollowed out over centuries. Smooth, curved staircases flowing into terraces, filled with hundreds of well-dressed people and the abstract murmur of their conversations.

For the millionth time today, he wishes you were here.

You would be awestruck, gazing around with starry eyes that would make him appreciate its beauty that much more. You would look at him, in that way you do, and everyone else would melt away. You would smile and make those crystal chandeliers look like bare fluorescent bulbs. Put the goddamn place to shame.

“Whaddaya think, sugar? Get a drink?”

He glances up at Jackie over the rim of his sunglasses and tosses his sloshy head back and forth, trying to gauge how drunk he actually is, then shrugs, “Fuck it, why not.”

She leads the way while Dieter follows in her wake, delighting at the number of people who ogle Jackie, with her big hair and her commanding presence and her blue gown, shimmering aqua and cyan and turquoise in the light.

Only a few people seem to notice him trailing behind her. Fewer yet glint any tell-tale signs of recognition. The little upright jolt. The furrowed brow leaping into a surprised expression. The whispered “Is that who I think it is?” to the person beside them. Or, his favorite, the scramble to grab their phone and snap a photo.

They order drinks and find a tall table in the corner to lean against. From this vantage point, they survey the crowd for their subjects.

“How much does your man know?”

“My man,” Jackie mutters to herself with a little scoff, glancing down at her martini, “He’s not my man. I’m just a rental.”

Dieter peels his eyes away from the crowd to look at her, “A rental?”

“Not good enough to invest in long-term.”

His head rocks back in understanding, and he frowns, “How long have you been seeing him?”

“Off and on for two years.”

As she says this, she looks up, flicking her eyes around the room. Then she zeroes in on something. Her posture perks to attention. That little glint of recognition.

Dieter follows her gaze to what can only be described as the most average looking white man in Manhattan. Dusty blonde hair, athletic build, black suit.

He would’ve completely overlooked the guy if not for the precision of Jackie’s stare.

Well, that and the fact that you’ve gone on your fair share of angry rants about the man, which involved you showing Dieter his Instagram. This is how he also recognizes the mousy woman standing at his side.

“He brought his wife?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you two me—”

“Nope.”

The sullen aura radiating off her makes Dieter tick his jaw back and forth. He looks between her and Reese, then asks, “Does he know the plan?”

“Kind of,” she shrugs, “Bare bones, enough to maintain plausible deniability.”

“Uh huh. How did Reese know about Mr. Lindorm’s uhhh…”

He scrunches his face up and turns his wrist around, trying to find the right word.

Jackie raises an eyebrow, “Proclivities?”

“I was gonna say fetish, but sure.”

She lands a playful smack on his arm, then sighs, “Sometimes it’s best I don’t ask.”

“Don’t ask don’t tell, good policy.”

This earns him a side-eye with very little humor attached. Sore spot. Fuck.

“Look,” he leans harder on the table, “All I’m saying is you could do better. No doubt about it. You uhh… I don’t know. You deserve someone who loves you so much, they would pluck the stars from the sky and craft them into a crown for you. Not someone who keeps you a secret.”

“Craft them into a—?” She blinks at him, “Ok, papi, what the fuck’re you talking about?”

He tries to formulate an answer, to figure out where the fuck that came from, but admits, “Fuck if I know.”

“I’m cutting you off.”

“I am not that drunk.”

“Better not be, cuz it’s fuckin’ showtime. Here they come.”

“Sorry to interrupt.”

He looks to the source, flicking his gaze up and down Reese’s neat tuxedo.

Reese extends his hand, “I don’t believe we’ve met, but I’m Senator Reese Bernard—”

“I don’t endorse political campaigns, sorry.”

He starts to turn back to Jackie, who mirrors the action, then Reese, right on cue, says, “Oh, no. Nothing like that, I’m just a big fan. Could I buy you and your um,” his eyes shift to Jackie, “Companion a drink? Maybe pick your brain for a bit?”

Dieter finds himself slightly surprised with Reese’s acting ability. That is, until he remembers the man acts every single day of his life. He raises his eyebrows in question at Jackie, who holds his gaze and shrugs, “Fine by me.”

“Alright, yeah.”

A boyish grin spreads across Reese’s face, then he turns to the little mouse of a woman behind him and murmurs something to her, jerking his head towards the bar.

She nods and walks off as Reese joins their table, glancing between Dieter and Jackie, “Well, this is certainly a way to shake things up at the opera, huh? Kind of exciting,” he settles his gaze on Jackie, giving her a charming smile, “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks, love,” she tilts her head at him, batting her lashes.

The way they look at each other, all goo-goo eyes, inspires Dieter to finish his drink. When he slams the empty glass down on the table, they both jump, snapping out of their nauseating little bubble.

“When’s our guy supposed to be here?”

“Ahhhh,” Reese frowns at his watch, then starts searching the lobby, “Should already be around somewhere. We always meet him and the missus over here for a drink before the show.”

“You guys do this often?”

He shrugs, “Every couple of weeks or so. Not really my cup of tea, or his even, but the gals love it.”

“Cute,” Dieter mutters.

Jackie shoots him a look, then asks Reese, “Do you really think this is gonna work?”

“Oh, definitely, definitely. The guy is smart when it comes to law, but thinks with his dick when it comes to most everything else,” he smirks at her, “And you’re just his type.”

In response, Dieter grunts and searches the room. His head feels weighted, brain sloshing around in the sea of alcohol he consumed throughout the day.

Maybe he should switch to water for a while, slow down this freight train.

Or maybe we should go in a different direction. Try to get a hold of something that will straighten us out.

This thought overrides his entire body, blaring and hot and uncomfortable in his veins, and he wonders if that’s why it’s called an impulse.

Wouldn’t it make you feel better?

His leg starts to bounce. He grits his teeth and reminds himself that he promised you he wouldn’t use cocaine again. Reminds himself of what you said in return:

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Your voice in his head makes his heart flutter, while the content of your statement sits heavy in his stomach, warring with that concentrated dose of urgency buzzing through him.

“There he is,” Jackie murmurs into her wine glass, “Over by the stairs.”

Jerking to attention like he fell asleep at the wheel, Dieter follows her laser-focused gaze to a distinguished salt-and-pepper man posing for a photo with a tall blonde woman.

The way they stand next to each other, all rigid and precise, their perfect, practiced smiles spread wide beneath dead eyes… it strikes him as familiar.

Middle-aged Barbie and Ken.

A fair comparison, although she looks closer to 20 than 40. Either that or she has a stellar plastic surgeon.

There’s something else, though.

It’s in the way they take a big step apart when the photographer gets his shot. How they seem to be bickering at each other out the side of their faces between fake smiles.

Anika and Dieter.

He studies them with a morbid kind of curiosity, wondering if that’s what they would have eventually been like if they tried to make it work. If, almost a year ago, he would’ve gone home to her instead of boarding that plane to New York.

They would’ve fought about it. Maybe they would’ve cried and had make-up sex. He probably would’ve gone to rehab, and couples counseling, and, hell, maybe they would’ve had a kid or something. Things would’ve felt real and good with her for a while.

But it would have faded.

After a while, he would have strayed again. He would have started getting high and fucking around all the time. He knows this like he knows you’re alive, like he just knows things, certain and right at the very core of him: He never would have found peace until he found you.

Instinctually, he wants to say you changed him, that you made him want to be a better man. But it dawns on him, with stunning clarity, that you didn’t. You didn’t change him any more than an astronomer changes the universe when they discover a star.

Which is to say, darling, that you just brought him into focus so he could see himself for who he really is.

Anything else would have been a plastic, miserable cohabitation.

As this sinks in, that hungry buzzing in his chest wanes. He understands that he can’t break his promise to you. More aptly, he won’t, because he’s not that man anymore.

—

Sometimes things go sideways.

For instance, sometimes the love of your life thinks that disappearing is the best solution to both save your career and evade a second felony.

Sometimes, though… the universe aligns in your favor, and a plan goes off better than you ever could have imaged.

Sometimes your girlfriend’s best friend’s boyfriend’s wife, who Dieter eventually learns is named Rachel, runs into her friends, Mr. and Mrs. District Attorney, on her way back from the bar and invites them to join your table.

They introduce themselves as John and—no fucking joke—Barbara Lindorm. Just as Reese predicted, John is captivated by Jackie the second he lays eyes on her. He occupies the open space next to her and laughs at her jokes, frequently splitting off into quiet little side conversations, where Dieter hears him ask where she’s from, what she does for a living, and whether she and Dieter are dating—which is great news, because it means he has not placed him as Dieter Bravo: Louella Friedman’s Meddlesome Boyfriend.

If Barbara notices her husband flirting, she doesn’t let it show. Dieter surmises it’s because he’s doing a bit of flirting himself, letting his gaze linger on her longer than appropriate, complimenting her dress, her hair, her nails. Not because he’s interested or anything, but rather to provide a bit of a distraction while Jackie reels in her husband.

It’s a little fucked up, sure, but you’d understand. Think big picture, baby. The greater good or whatever.

At one point, he sees Jackie pull out her phone and tell John, “Oh, I have to show you this picture from my last show, you’ll love this.”

This is the move. The part where she shows him a typed out message telling him to follow her at intermission.

Dieter calls attention to the other side of the table, asking Reese, “So, what, do you guys have regular seats or something? Since you come here so often.”

Reese sees the setup and nods, “Oh, definitely. A box, actually, they’re great seats—“ he cuts himself off with a gasp, slamming his palms down on the table, “Hold on, I’m getting a crazy idea. The other couple we usually come here with dropped out at the last minute. Do you two want their seats?”

Dieter glances over at Barbara, meeting her demure gaze, while he hears John murmur to Jackie, “You’re right, I do love that.”

“Why the hell not,” he licks his lips and shrugs, departing from Barbara’s eyes to meet Reese’s, “Let’s keep this party rolling.”

Reese grins, “Fantastic! Ok, do you guys wanna go now, or…?”

The lights wax and wane in brightness a few times, signaling curtain call, and Dieter smirks, “Lead the way.”

—

While waiting for the gilded curtains to part, Dieter flips through the program for Ariadne auf Naxos, tuning out the meaningless chit chat taking place around him.

He skims the synopsis provided, mostly just trying to look busy. One sentence catches his attention.

Ariadne is alone in front of her cave.

He tilts his head at it, lingering for a moment before resuming the skim. His eyes snag on the words stars vanish, then backtrack to the beginning of the sentence.

Entranced by Ariadne’s beauty, Bacchus tells her that he would sooner see the stars vanish than give her up.

Like he did with the last line, Dieter stares at it, slightly stunned. He shifts in his seat, glancing around before leaning over the program to re-read the opera’s synopsis from the beginning.

The passage briefly recounts the story of Ariadne, who assisted Thesus in escaping a labyrinth because she loved him. They were betrothed, and Ariadne left her family to be with him. On the trip home, Thesus abandoned her on a remote island while she was sleeping.

Ariadne woke and found herself alone on the beach. Heartbroken, she longed to die. When Bacchus arrived on the island, Ariadne first thought he was the messenger of death, then mistook him for Thesus. Bacchus explained that he was neither, he was a god. They fell in love and rose into the heavens.

Dieter sits back in his seat and fidgets, trying to find comfort despite this goddamn suit jacket, all stiff and tight with wads of cash. Despite the painful parallels his mind keeps drawing.

You are fucking everywhere.

The opera. The crystal galaxy chandeliers that hang from what looks like a bright white tunnel into the afterlife. The scalloped ceiling, backlit with a warm, golden light, reminding him of goldfish scales.

Are they signs or is he just losing his fucking mind?

“Probably both,” he mutters to himself.

Jackie looks up from her program at him, raising an eyebrow, “What?”

He shakes his head, nervously tugging at the whiskers that sprout from his jawline.

Before she can prod him further, the chandeliers float up into the white abyss and all of the lights dim, then the curtains part.

—

As soon as intermission starts, Jackie is on her feet.

John waits one cool second before excusing himself and following her into the hall. Reese hears this and turns around in his seat, asking Barbara how she likes the show so far. As she leans forward and begins to answer him, Reese locks eyes with Dieter and gives him a wink of approval.

Dieter nods and rises to his feet, then slips into the hall, weaving his way through the crowd.

See, when Jackie used to work catering gigs here, she got to know a member of the opera house staff who showed her a few private rooms that aren’t necessarily secret, but aren’t exactly advertised, either. They’re reserved for VIPs, when they want them, but mostly remain unoccupied during performances.

He follows the path Jackie mapped out for him earlier today to an unlabeled door on level three. Inside, he hears a familiar giggle and knows it’s the right one.

He pats down his suit jacket with both hands, double checking that he didn’t somehow drop all his money en route, then grabs the doorknob, twists it, and pushes the door open to reveal the smallest Victorian parlor he’s ever seen in his life.

It contains an antique sofa, a coffee table, and an armchair in the corner, and still feels cramped. The back wall is entirely occupied by a mirror. Probably an attempt to make the room look bigger.

On the ornate red sofa, Miss Jackie Lantern and Mister District Attorney are so busy making out, neither of them seem to notice his presence.

Dieter makes a point of closing the door with a loud bang. John jumps up and starts scrambling away from Jackie, his face all covered in hot pink lipstick, stammering out clichés, “I can explain, this isn’t what it looks like—”

“Save it, that’s not what this is,” Dieter waves him off as he approaches the couch, unbuttoning his suit jacket.

“What is this, then?” he looks from Dieter, who shucks off his jacket and sits down beside him, to Jackie, “A three way?”

Jackie sticks out her bottom lip in a sympathetic manner, shaking her head.

“This is an opportunity.”

John turns to him, narrowing his eyes, “Explain.”

“Well, see,” Dieter tosses his jacket on the coffee table, “I’m going to give you a stupid amount of money, I mean—really, truly, a fucking obscene amount of money. In return, you’ll drop the charges against Louella Friedman.”

He studies Dieter carefully.

“You and I both know that warrant was bullshit. Based on witness statements obtained by fucking paps, really?” Dieter clicks his tongue against his teeth and shakes his head, “That man is a gossip monger with a grudge. Zero fucking credibility. It wouldn’t hold up in court. It would be a waste of everyone’s time and money. This is an opportunity to cut through the red tape and get a little something for yourself in return.”

John sits back, crossing his arms. He frowns at the jacket for a while, seemingly running calculations in his head, then asks, “How much?”

“Hundred thousand.”

His eyebrows make a surprised jump. He presses his knuckles to his lips, considering this. His leg starts bouncing. He looks between Dieter and Jackie, these quick, sharp glares, “I don’t appreciate being set up like this.”

Dieter nods in acknowledgment. Jackie just blinks at him.

He releases a big sigh.

Sitting up, he grabs the jacket and digs into one of the pockets, then pulls out a few $10,000 bundles.

As he inspects them, Dieter asks, “Well?”

“You two are good,” John chuckles, then extends his hand to Dieter, “I’ll look into her case for you, see what we can do.”

He takes it, giving him an overly enthusiastic shake, “Good man. Thank you.”

“Louella Friedman?”

“That’s right. I, uhhh—I put her info in the front pocket.”

“Got it.”

Dieter stands and looks at Jackie, nodding to the door.

“Thanks, Johnny,” she winks, then rises to her feet and starts towards the door.

“Thank you, Jackie,” he grins at her for a second before returning to Dieter, “And thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Dieter pulls up the sleeves on his dress shirt, “Don’t spend it all in one place.”

John laughs at this, so Dieter feels compelled to clarify, “No, but really, the IRS might start asking questions if you do. So—don’t, ok?”

“Oh, well, yeah—”

Dieter turns on his heel and follows Jackie out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“Johnny?” he raises an eyebrow at her as they walk away.

“He’s kinda cute. Good kisser.”

“Thinking about adding him to your roster?”

She snorts and gives him a playful shove, “Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

—

Within thirty seconds of entering the apartment, Jackie has locked herself in the bathroom with the shower running.

Dieter collapses on the couch and slowly dismantles the remains of his suit, unknotting the bow-tie, taking off his dress shirt, wriggling out of his pants, until he’s left in boxers and an undershirt.

Exhaustion, emotional and physical, drains any remaining adrenaline from this evening’s success from his limbs.

Figuring it will take a while for the de-Jackiefication to take place in the bathroom, he checks his phone for updates, then decides to call and leave you a message before letting sleep take over.

“Hey, this is Louella, sorry I missed you. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back, thanks.”

“Hey, doll, it’s me. It is… just after midnight here in New York. Just wanted to let you know, I talked to the DA. He’s dropping the charges, because they’re bullshit, and uhhh… yeah. You can come out now, if you want. I… I miss you. All day I missed you. I wish you were here, and—listen, Lua, I get what you’re doing. You think you’re saving me or something by disappearing, but let me tell you, you are fucking not. Ok? I don’t think you understand… you save me every single day. Just by loving me. The acting, publicity, fucking—whatever, none of that fucking matters to me. I swear to god. You are—you are it for me. The end all be all. My sun, my moon, the stars, you are my whole fucking universe. You are… everything to me, Louella. I love you. I hope I see you soon.”

[ Next Chapter ]

#psychomanteum #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo x ofc #the bubble #the bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

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avesque · 1 year

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hii! would I be able to request a fic about neteyam? just pure fluff? but aged up if that makes sense like neteyam would be 19 and the reader would be the same age as well!🫶 hope you’re having a beautiful day!🫶

in the quiet of the night — neteyam

— you find out the remedy to a headache is a slow dance.

INCLUDES fem!reader, omatikaya!reader. established relationship, fluff. 1.0k words.

NOTE i love writing characters slow dancing; thank you for giving me an excuse to do so!

it is past eclipse when neteyam and the other hunters finally reached the village with a plentiful catch. the weather had drastically changed throughout the whole day, the wind biting at his face but the sun harsh on his skin. it had started a blooming headache on the back of his skull.

he would love nothing more than a peaceful rest and to come home to you but the people await, the feast just starting as the night grows deeper.

you are by his side, fixing the necklace you have weaved for him many moons ago. the place is starting to fill up as your fellow people gather around the bonfire.

he winces as a group of kids run past you, squealing in delight. it makes his head pound harder and he closes his eyes to try and ease the feeling.

“is something wrong?” your voice is like music to his ears, palms delicate against his skin as you feel his forehead.

neteyam shakes his head. “nothing bad, just a little headache.”

he cracks his eyes open to find you frowning, a worried dent in between your eyebrows. he smiles just to reassure you, cupping your face and gently rubbing away your worry.

“i am fine, tìyawn,” he promises. “it will go away soon.”

the olo’eyktan first pays gratitude to eywa for the clan’s blessing and the feast starts. the night is alive, bright yellows and orange dancing in the night, filled with laughter and the chatter of people you have known all your life.

there are girls dancing as other na’vi taps away on their instruments. a quiet laugh bubbles up your throat that has neteyam turning his gaze to you.

when you meet his curious eyes, you point somewhere a few feet from you, where lo’ak is getting dragged by a familiar girl, one you’ve heard is interested in him.

you both watch as his brother clumsily moves to the music, tripping over his feet in the process. a little ways behind them is the chief and his mate, twin smiles on their faces as they watch their youngest son. when their gazes flit in your direction, you make a decision to drag neteyam up there.

you make some flimsy little excuse to save neteyam from his agony. the tsahìk sends you and her son a worried glance but you reassure her you will take care of him as best as you can, and will call her if it ever worsens.

the walk back to your shared tent is quiet. your hands are clasped so tightly in his, snug and perfect like it was meant for him to hold all along.

“thank you,” he says into the night. you look at him, so pretty under the moons’ light, the beads in his braids reflecting the faint glow from above.

there’s a funny little smile playing on your lips. “what for?” you squeeze his hand one, two, three times.

neteyam shrugs. he squeezes your hand one, two, three times and tugs you closer. you place a palm on his chest, the other still holding his hand. a cold breeze flutters by as he rests his forehead on yours.

though this is an unusual act from your mate, you do not question him. the people are too busy and caught up in the feast, you suppose no one will come back out here this early and maybe that’s why neteyam decides to let his guard down.

you don’t notice it at first, too focused on the feel of him this close to you, but you’re moving — neteyam is moving, you realize. slowly, back and forth, a mess of feet and a shy giggle from him.

“what are we doing?” your question is laced with equal parts fondness and mirth. unsure as you are, you follow him, just as you always do, in anything and everything.

“dancing.”

you pull away, a confused little pout on your face. “this is dancing?”

he hums. your confusion doubles as he raises one arm with your hand still in his.

“turn,” he says, and you do, movements clumsy and unsure, but when you’re facing him again and he has a big smile on his face threatening to split his face in half, you will your worries away.

“this is dancing?” you reiterate.

“yes,” he muses. his smile is boyish, a little sharper on the other end, a light smirk. it is so reminiscent of the fourteen-year-old neteyam that stole your heart. “dad dances like this with mom. he says it is a sky people thing.”

“just like this?” neteyam prompts you to turn again, and you do, though he does not let go of your hands. his left arm goes over your head and, once you’re facing forward with your back to his, he pulls you closer. “without music?”

“there is music. he sings it.”

“the olo’eyktan sings?”

his chuckle is right by your ear. “hums it,” he explains.

it’s kind of awkward, lumbering away with your moves unpracticed. his hands let go and you think it’s over, but then his arms are around you, hugging you to his chest. his warmth is welcomed, body melting into his own. you lean back and rest your head on the juncture of his neck, a space you believe was molded to fit you in all ways.

it’s ironic how you were laughing at lo’ak earlier yet tripping over neteyam’s feet every now and then.

you hear him right by your ear — a deep hum, coming straight from his chest. it vibrates against your back, a soft buzz that tickles your spine.

your pair turns in a slow circle to the song he’s humming, backed by the faint hubbub from the gathering and the noise of insects around.

“is that the same song your father hums?” you tilt your head back a little.

a faint kiss is dropped on your temple before he rests his cheek there. “yes. he’s been humming it ever since i can remember.” he pauses, then, “i’ve always dreamt of doing the same someday… with the person i love.”

“well,” you nuzzle closer to him, gently nosing under his chin, “how is that dream going?”

neteyam exhales a content sigh, headache forgotten. “like i can stay like this forever.”