#not to mention how much my body just. Hurts
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Guilty as Sin?
James Potter x f!reader (mentioned), Remus Lupin x f!reader
warnings: smut, protected p in v, lots of descriptions of what ifs (you’ll understand with the song), underage smoking, if you squint it may just be cheating but oh well, this is so good to me
summary: someone once told you, there’s no such thing as bad thoughts… right?
word count: 3k
a/n: i’m in love with this song from taylor’s new album!!! sorry if this characterization isn’t what you like but this concept has been eating me alive. i love remus tho. might be a part two if you guys want !!!
~~~
Drowning in the Blue Nile
He sent me “Downtown Lights”
I hadn’t heard it in a while
~~~
“Oi y/n!”
You turned on your heels at the sound of your name being called. Down the hallway, you could see James Potter striding toward you. Despite the bodies of other students that filled the hall, you could see he was holding something in his hand. It looked big, and as he came closer and closer you could see more and more of what it was.
“Hello James, something I can help you with?” You asked once he was close enough to hear your normal tone. You looked down at his hands, you could see what he was holding clearly, it was a record. And from the cover of it, it looked to be a muggle one. “What’s that?”
James smiled his intoxicating smile and held the record up. “Something for you.”
You gasped and one of your hands moved up to cover your mouth. In his hands, he held the latest album of your favorite singer, Heroes by David Bowie. It had come out in October, and every time you searched for it, it was sold out. You traced your eyes over the beautiful shining black and white cover, you were practically speechless.
“How did you- when did you- James...”
“I have my ways, don’t worry about it,” the black-haired boy replied with a small laugh.
“It’s not close enough to be a Christmas gift, and you know my birthday isn’t till spring,” you observed out loud. Your eyes met his again and you blinked. “So, what’s this for?”
He shrugged. “For the past few weeks, I haven’t been the only one to take notice of how much you’ve been playing Bowie in the common room. And I heard you talking to Moony about how you haven’t got the new album yet... so here it is.”
He held it out to you and with delicate hands, you accepted the gift, still amazed. “James, you didn’t have to.”
“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m surprised Moony didn’t already get it for you.”
“Yeah...” You looked down for a moment before meeting his eyes again, and you smiled. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Play it tonight, put it to use. Anyway, I’ve got to run, I’m supposed to be helping Peter with his Charms homework. See you at dinner.”
He gave you another smile before turning and walking back the way he came. You were too preoccupied with the flawless record in your hands to say goodbye. For a split second, you felt your heart flutter with a feeling you knew you shouldn’t have felt. So, you pushed it away and restarted your walk to the dungeons.
You knew better than to let those thoughts linger in the open hallway.
~~~
My boredom’s bone-deep
This cage was once just fine
Am I allowed to cry?
~~~
“James got that for you?”
You had just put the record on, and the sound of David Bowie's voice began to fill the Gryffindor common room. Your cheeks almost hurt from how much you’d been smiling. On one of the couches, your boyfriend Remus sat, his typical book in his lap. You turned and flung yourself on the open spot next to him, nodding your head to the beat of the song.
“Yeah, he gave it to me earlier, isn’t it wonderful?”
Remus nodded; his eyes locked on his book. “It’s definitely something.”
You rolled your eyes. “You like Bowie too last I checked.”
“You play him so much I’m surprised not everyone likes him,” Remus replied. Suddenly he shut his book and turned his head to look at you. For a split second, you felt hope that he was going to just listen with you. But of course, that wasn’t the case. Instead, he rose from the couch. “I can’t concentrate with it playing, I’m going to go read in my dorm.”
“But we barely spend any time together Rem, unless it’s a shag,” you protested, anger suddenly taking you over. “When’s the last time we went on a proper date? Or anything at all? I’m so bored of this.”
Remus as usual, kept his composer and showed no sign of any emotion. “If you’re so bored you’re welcome to leave me.”
“You know that’s not what I want,” you said.
“Then I’m not sure what to tell you. You’re welcome to join me, you know where to find me.”
He left before you could say anything else.
You ran your hands over your face in frustration. How did your relationship come to this? You started dating Remus in fifth year, and it had been the happiest moment of your life. He was your first love, the boy you shared almost all of your firsts with actually. You loved him more than anyone, yet it never seemed to be enough. So, you began to give up.
After all, it was your last year at Hogwarts, after it ended, you’d never have to see him again. Because really, was so much pain worth a moment of happiness? You didn’t believe so anymore.
Instead of following him up to his dorm as you would have the year prior, you simply laid back on the couch and enjoyed the first listen of the album.
~~~
I dream of cracking locks
Throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks
Crashing into him tonight, he’s a paradox
I’m seeing visions, am I bad?
Or mad? Or wise?
~~~
The first time you ever thought of James in the way you knew you shouldn’t be was about a year into your relationship with Remus. After he had begun his distant behavior, his cold manners, and all those awful things. Previously, you had only ever felt attracted to the one Marauder. You saw Peter as a sweet little brother, you saw Sirius as an older annoying brother, and you saw James as well, a friend. That was until one late December night.
You and Remus had one of your arguments and you went outside for a smoke to help with your anxiety. For a few minutes, you sat in silence, the cold air and smoke in your lungs a great distraction from the boiling fears that consumed your mind. You were afraid to lose Remus. More than afraid. So, you inhaled a deep puff of the cigarette to focus on something else.
“You’ll catch a cold out here you know.”
You jumped at the sudden sound of a voice. James sat next to you, and you were perplexed at how he managed to sneak into the spot so quietly. You were also confused as to why he was there in the first place.
“If that’s the case then why are you out here?” You questioned as you let out a cloud of smoke.
He held up his hand and you passed it to him. “I had a... date anyway Filtch was in the corridor, so I ran out here. I doubt he followed, he and Mrs. Norris hate this time of year.” He inhaled a deep breath and passed the cigarette back to you. “Why are you out here?”
“A date? Is that what they call a shag now?” You laughed for a few seconds before your frown resurfaced. “Remus and I had a disagreement. We both said some nasty things, I needed to clear my head.”
“Ah, lovers quarrel. Are you all right? Remus can say some pretty nasty things when he’s mad,” James said as he pushed his glasses back up his nose.
You stared at him in silence for a moment. Never before had you realized how attractive he really was. Sirius was known to be the most attractive of the Marauders, but his crude personality, at least in your opinion, always outshined his natural features. James, however, since the start of sixth year, had matured. That meant he was no longer solely physically attractive; he also had an attractive personality. He was funny, caring, outgoing, and a leader. And of course, he was six feet tall with curly black hair and a perfect smile. Who wouldn’t be attracted to that?
You swallowed away the tingly feeling that shot through your fingers as you passed him the cigarette again.
He’s your boyfriend's best mate, stop thinking like that. You thought to yourself.
But as you watched him exhale another breath of smoke you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about how his perfect lips would feel against yours.
“I’m sure you two will make up by the end of the night, he really loves you,” he spoke. His eyes caught yours, you could see the small smirk on his all too good-looking lips. “Who wouldn’t fancy a girl like you anyway?”
“A lot of guys actually,” you responded.
His hazel eyes were practically glowing. “They’re blokes. Have you seen yourself y/n? You’re pretty, smart, funny, and you have a fascinating music taste. And anything Remus might’ve said to make you feel less than perfect well... he didn’t mean it. Trust me, that wouldn’t be possible.”
You laughed. “What? Me being less than perfect or Remus meaning what he said?”
“Both,” James answered.
He must’ve felt it too. That pull. You almost considered moving closer to him, but before you could make the decision James stood. You were relieved, the spell was broken. Your senses came back. You shouldn’t have even thought about what it would feel like to kiss James Potter.
“Let’s get back up to the tower, it’s pretty fucking cold,” he said.
You only nodded and threw your cigarette to the ground, crushing it with your sneaker after you stood. “All right.”
The two of you walked back up silently and you were greeted by an apologetic Remus. As he held you in his arms though, all you could think about were the thoughts you had previously thought.
~~~
What if he’s written “mine” on my upper thigh only in my mind?
One slip and falling back into the hedge maze
Oh, what a way to die
My bedsheets are ablaze, I’ve screamed his name
Building up like waves crashing over my grave
~~~
You gripped the red sheets of Remus’s bed so hard your knuckles turned white. Your breathing was heavy and unsteady. You tried to lean your head up to kiss him, but he wasn’t paying attention. It was something you’d grown used to. He liked to fuck you hard, not soft, not lovingly. No. He liked it intensely. You did too, but you also liked being gently taken care of.
Too bad he didn’t enjoy that anymore.
“Rem I-”
“I’m- almost done.” He cut you off, his breathless voice which once made you squirm now made you angry.
It was despicable, it was so wrong. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it.
You closed your eyes and began to imagine someone else on top of you. Instantly, you felt a rush of heat to your cheeks at the picture in your mind. He would be so much more careful, and considerate. You’d heard from many girls how good of a lover he was. All of them would dote on how much he liked pleasing them. With his fingers, his mouth, and his...
You tried to squeeze your thighs together.
You should’ve stopped, you knew that. But your mind kept going.
You pictured him on top of you. His curls would be so soft. His hands would be callused from Quidditch. He’d use them on you, make you cum over and over again. You imagined how he’d curl his fingers so perfectly inside you.
“That’s it, my perfect girl,” he’d whisper to you as he went on with it. “You’re so good for me, aren’t you?”
Suddenly, without warning, you felt yourself reach a peak you hadn’t reached in a while. You squeezed your eyes shut and came at the thought of how good James Potter's praises would make you feel.
When Remus was done, he lay next to you on the bed breathless. “You came?”
You only stared at the top of his bed. “Yeah.”
~~~
These fatal fantasies
Giving way to labored breath, takin all of me
We’ve already done it in my head
If it’s make-believe
Why does it feel like a vow we’ll both uphold somehow?
~~~
There was something so exhilarating about being around James. Especially when the two of you were alone. It was as though every time the two of you had a moment alone, he gave you another reason to keep your fantasies going. Often, it made you wonder if he knew of your terrible thoughts.
The two of you sat by the black lake, the rest of your friends were further away playing a game of football. It was funny watching Lily get frustrated trying to explain the rules to Sirius, but it was even funnier when James commented on it from beside you.
“Oh no, he picked it up again. Evans is almost turning as red as her hair, I worry for her health,” the boy with glasses joked.
You snorted. “She’s going to have a heart attack from that boy mark my words.”
“I believe that. ‘Suppose it’s a good thing she’s thinking about becoming a Healer,” he replied.
You threw your head back as you laughed, one of your hands flying up to grip James’s arm. After a few seconds though, you composed yourself and pulled your hand off him as though it had been burned. Your eyes immediately found Remus across the field. He paid you no mind.
“Y/n can I ask you something a little personal?” James asked.
Your eyes met his and you didn’t hesitate to nod. “Sure.”
“You and Remus, things aren’t good between the two of you.”
“What gave that away?” You faked a smile. “But that’s not a question love.”
He really smiled. “I know. Sorry. My question was why are you still with him if things between the two of you are like this? I understand being in love, Merlin I tried to get Evans to go out with me for ages. But you and Moony... You used to be in our room all the time, you guys used to be so happy and I dunno around each other. Do you guys even go out anymore? I haven’t seen a snog between the two of you in a while.”
You inhaled a deep breath, your attention moving to the blade of grass between your fingers. “I suppose I’m afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Yes, afraid. Rem he- he's my first everything and I dunno. If we broke up the friend group would be torn, and everything would be complicated. I suppose it’s just easier this way,” you answered. You hadn’t been this honest about how you felt in a long time. It felt good. And it felt even better when you caught James’s caring eyes.
“Do you love him?”
His question caught you off guard. “I did. I still think I do.”
You watched him look across the field for a few seconds before he did something you never would’ve expected. Ever so gently, he placed his hand over yours on the grass. All you could do was stare wildly into his eyes. Was this supposed to make your heart race and your face red?
“I care about you y/n, and I care about Remus as well. I want what’s best for both of you and if I’m being honest, I don’t think that’s with each other,” he said softly.
“Have you said this to him then?” You questioned, you found it hard to breathe with the feeling of his rough hand on yours.
James nodded. “Of course I have. He doesn’t like advice that much though.”
“He really doesn’t does he?” You mumbled.
“No, he doesn’t. But either of you can talk to me about anything. You know that right? You don’t have to be afraid of anything y/n. Even if you do break up I’ll be here for you, you won’t be alone. Course you have Lily and Mary and Marlene as well but...” You watched his face change as he trailed off. “I dunno. I thought it would be different with me.”
“Different?” You held your breath. “How so?”
His thumb moved across your skin; you bit down on your lip.
“You know...” he trailed off again, his voice quieter than before.
All you could think about was how good it would feel to pounce on top of him and kiss him till you couldn’t breathe. You’d do it, even out there in the open. You imagined how intense and fast it would be. A few minutes at most but a lifetime of pleasure no doubt. He’d make you feel things you hadn’t felt in ages, he’d do whatever you asked. That’s just the person he was.
“James, you don’t even know the half of it,” you admitted softly.
“Love, I think I do.”
You could’ve fainted right then and there. His eyes were so mesmerizing, his voice sent goosebumps all over your body. It was terrible, despicable, and tragic. But oh, how fucking good it felt to be seen again. And as it seemed, James really saw you.
“James we can’t-”
“We aren’t doing anything.” He leaned closer to you. “And besides there’s no such thing as bad thoughts. Only your actions talk.”
“So you-”
“Yes, yes I do.”
“James...”
“I know I must sound like a god-awful prat but believe me I don’t want the two of you to break up so we can... No. I want you two to break up because both of you are miserable. And I do really care about the both of you, you’re my mates.” He explained quickly.
You turned back to the field and saw Remus slowly approaching. Without thinking you ripped your hand away from James’s as fast as you could and stood up. You took a few deep breaths before you looked down at James.
“If Remus and I do break up, I want you to know it’s not because of... all right?”
“All right.” He nodded.
“Good,” you said before turning and making your way out to Remus.
You knew what he wanted to do, and you would oblige.
You had about ten thousand more fantasies to think of during it anyway.
#fanfiction#james potter smut#james potter#marauders imagine#marauders smut#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#marauders era#harry potter fanfic#remus lupin smut#remus lupin#harry potter smut#marauders#sirius black#lily evans#peter pettigrew#smut#guilty as sin?#inspired by taylor swift#mskingbean89#i love smut#james potter is a simp#i love james potter#remus lupin x reader#james potter x reader#i love this so much#the tortured poets department#the marauders#james potter is the sun#remus lupin is sarcastic
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Darlin' pt 3
pt 1 / pt 2 /pt 4
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Slowburn romance, we will get there eventually)
Description: Reader and the ghoul navigate their new, unconventional friendship on their way to Filly.
TW: Mentions of emotional abuse and bad parenting, slight angst slight fluff, reader has no social skills.
After the ghoul defended me in town, I felt much more comfortable in his presence. I had a new vigor for the adventure in front of us. It was much more exciting than anything I would do on my own. After a couple of hours on the trail, I decided to try and talk to him. However, his demeanor hadn't changed much.
"My name is Y/n, by the way," I said nonchalantly while hiking next to him.
"Don't remember askin'." He responded, refusing to look at me.
"Just thought you should know." I pouted at his cold response. "Since we are travelin' together and all that."
"Well, now I know." He said, finally looking over at me.
We made eye contact for a moment before he swiftly turned his gaze back to the trail ahead of us.
"So...." I started. "You ain't gonna tell me your name."
"No." He sighed, obviously getting annoyed as he let out a small cough.
I bit my cheek as I buried my disappointment. "How far to Filly?" I asked quietly.
"About a day" He responded between coughs as he stopped and pulled out some Radaway from his pack and added it to his inhaler. I watched, intrigued as he breathed it in deeply. His eyes slowly raked over my body like he was looking for a reaction, but I just gave him an awkward smile.
The two of us continued in silence. I wondered about what a ghoul's life was like. I never met a ghoul before him. How long does it take them to change? The Radaway must help keep the side effects at bay. I wondered how long it helps for. What was his life like before he turned into a ghoul? I wished I could ask him, but if his reaction earlier was any indication, he wasn't interested in conversation. I was so lost in thought that I stopped paying attention to the world around me.
The next thing I knew I was squealing as I tripped over a rock and started to fall forward.
"God damn it." I heard him say as he swiftly caught me before I could faceplant into the dirt. He roughly pulled me up and helped me to my feet.
My face burned with embarrassment. "Thank you," I mumbled out.
He just scoffed in response before he started walking again. I followed close behind, pouting in silence.
The rest of the day was quiet and uneventful, but as the day went on I started to get more and more agitated by his silence. Finally, we made camp.
As I gathered up the firewood and brought it back to camp I decided I had had enough. "I want to know your name," I said confidently, dropping the pile at his feet.
"I want things too, you don't see me bitchin' about it." He mumbled back.
"You are going to be nicer to me, or I am going to leave," I demanded.
This caught his attention as his gaze quickly met mine. I could tell he was trying to gauge if I was serious or not. In all honestly, I wasn't, but I didn't want him to know that so I just stood there, unwavering.
"You can try." He said menacingly, "But I ain't gonna let you."
"So, what? I am just your prisoner now? You gonna keep me around till you get hungry?" I said, anger bubbling over in my chest.
At this, he paused, a look of hurt flashed across his face. However, I was too caught up in my own emotions to notice it.
"Did I go from one man's prisoner to another's?" I asked.
Tears of frustration at his silence started to form in the corner of my eyes before I turned around, grabbed my bag, and stomped off. I didn't go far. I knew as soon as the sun came up I was going to go right back to following him around, so after about 10 minutes I sat up against a tree and let out a sigh. I knew I was acting childish, but in town, I genuinely thought I had made a friend in him. My father never let me have friends. I was forced to stay in the house and look after him and my brothers. I wasn't allowed to have a life of my own. I was naive to think that the ghoul would want to be my friend. As I started to drift off, I heard footsteps coming up behind me. I didn't bother looking because I knew it was him, coming to drag me back as promised.
"Cooper." He said, leaning against the other side of the tree.
"What?" I asked confused.
"My name, darlin'." He responded quietly.
We stayed there in silence for a couple of minutes before I spoke up.
"I was never going to leave," I admitted.
"I know." He said, letting out a small chuckle. "Now get your pretty ass back to camp."
I hummed quietly before grabbing my pack and getting up from the ground. I made my way to the other side of the tree so I could take a look at him. I could barely see him in the dark, but what I could see was eyes staring down at me. "Okay," I whispered.
-
The next day I woke up confused. There was no boot in my side, and Cooper was nowhere to be seen. "Cooper?" I said quietly. When I got no response. "COOPER?" I yelled into the forest.
"Stop your hollering." I heard him say in the distance.
"Where did you go?" I asked breathlessly.
"Got myself some breakfast." He said nonchalantly as he held up a deformed rabbit while walking towards me.
"Why didn't you wake me? You always wake me." I asked, fear still evident across my face.
He was quiet for a moment before he responded quietly, "I was bein' nice."
I stared at him in shock while he was trying to look anywhere but at my face. "Oh."
We sat around the fire in silence as he ate the rabbit, I tried not to watch because honestly? That rabbit looked disgusting. While I waited I picked up one of the sticks and drew some stick figures in the dirt. I tried my best to give one a cowboy hat, but I don't think Cooper noticed. Once he was finished we picked up our bags, stomped out the fire, and went on our way again.
After a couple more hours of silence, I decided to try to talk to him again.
"I think you have pretty eyes." I blurted out.
At this, he stopped in his tracks and stared at me like I grew another head. I started to get self-conscious as his gaze bore into me. He was a cocky man, by all means. However, it had been a LONG time since anything about him was considered pretty.
I grimaced at his reaction "Sorry, I am not very good at conversation." I said sheepishly.
After a couple of minutes of silence, I decided to start walking in the general direction we were going earlier. I honestly had no idea where I was going, but I couldn't bear to stand there under his gaze any longer. After a minute, I could hear him trailing behind me and I felt the tension release from my body.
"No more compliments" I noted to myself.
We continued on in silence for some time before we could finally see Filly in the distance. My feet were raw and blistered from all the walking, so to finally see our destination was a welcome sight.
I looked back at the ghoul and smiled, "We made it!"
Much to my surprise, he had a matching smile on his face. I turned back around to Filly, excited to explore. I could feel his eyes on me as I skipped into town, stopping to look at all the stalls on my way past.
"So now what?" I asked, turning to face him.
"Now we wait, Darlin'." He chuckled in response.
The idea of being there when he caught his bounty filled me with excitement. This was nothing like what I assumed my life would become when I ran away.
tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramateagreeable
#the ghoul fallout#fallout tv series#fallout#cooper howard#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul x reader
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I'll do that again for you
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Summary: Bucky pushes you away again and you let him this time.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: angst, swearing, comfort, a little fluff, doubts, angry behavior, mentions of physical abuse and injuries, crying. Let me know if I forgot something.
A/N: I'm not sure about this one, but it's been on my mind for so long I had to finally sit down and write it all down. Hope you enjoy it guys <3
I walked into Bucky’s apartment and tossed my keys on the dining table before opening the fridge and getting myself a bottle of water. I looked around slowly and walked to the pile of bedsheets on the floor. I picked them up before sitting down on the couch. The quiet sound of shower in the other room seemed to wash all my worries away, but I knew they will come back the moment I see him. His deep blue, tired eyes full of regret and and guilt, his usually steady hands shaking whenever we were alone. All the things no one else besides me was allowed to see. Things that only I could perceive in a conference room full of people. Things I couldn’t do anything about. He was more devastated than ever when Steve started talking about leaving him. Leaving us, but Bucky couldn’t wrap his head around that, believing I have already found my peace in other people. As compassionate as he was, he never saw how lonely I was since I was trying to get him his life back. But I never blamed him.
The peaceful sound of water flowing got quiet unexpectedly, making me snap back to reality. I heard quiet footsteps getting closer and my heart started pounding in my chest.
„Hey sweets, you’re here early.”
He said calmly, sitting on the couch next to me. I only replied with a smile, realizing he looks worse than usually. He wasn’t surprised I was here, I always were on friday mornings. We talked about his last therapy session before going to the compound together, it was our routine. The thing that kept us both on tracks, helping to get a steady rhythm in our messed up lives, something to stick with for once. But today my thoughts were focused on something else, I didn’t care about the therapy, knowing he might finally found something better to help him get his life together.
„How was your date yesterday?”
„It was awful and I don’t want to talk about it”
His reply was dry and harsh. He didn’t to that often while talking to me. He had a soft spot there, always treating me gently and respectful, but I knew this moment would come, sooner or later. I knew the perfect bubble of our strange relationship would finally burst, because he couldn’t handle it. I knew it would change for him, but never for me, I felt the same way since I met him, when he squeezed my throat so hard that I passed out and had to look at the bruises covering my body for the next two weeks whenever I passed a mirror. But even as a Winter Soldier, his eyes were the same, that’s why I chose to help Steve get him back. That’s why I had the worst possible fight with Tony, when he told me I can’t just pick up assassins from the streets and adopt them like stray cats. He never said that about Wanda, he never called Nat an assassin, but he never hesitated when it came to Bucky. Thinking about that sent shivers down my spine, remembering how much I had to give up to bring things back to normal, to help them understand that the Winter Soldier is not the person standing in front of them.
„So I chose a wrong person again?”
I asked with a weak smile. It wasn’t the first date he didn’t enjoy, but he never blamed me for that.
„You chose the wrong thing for me, I don’t get why do you want me to find a fucking love of my life by setting me up on hookups I don’t want to attend.”
His voice started to sound unsettling, I shifted in my seat and straightened my back, looking at him carefully. He tried to do that earlier, to push me away by scaring me, but I never let him. I knew he would never hurt me, too focused on protecting me at all costs, like his life depended on it.
„Don’t be such a dick and stop blaming me for your poor love life, I’m just trying to help you get back to reality.”
I was surprised by my own words, I never spoke to him that way, no matter how he treated me. I felt a wave of frustration flushing through my veins, making me feel like my blood is boiling. I looked at his hands, his metal fingers clenching in a fist, the flesh hand rubbing on the soft fabric of his jeans, but I knew how much they were trembling at this moment and how much he was fighting himself not to break the character he was trying to play.
„I never asked for it.”
His jaw clenched and I felt a sting in my chest at his words. No matter how grateful he was for me being there, he would never admit it, he would never say how much he needed and appreciated all I ever did for him.
„Do you want me to leave?”
I decided to make it easier for him, knowing he would struggle with saying it out loud. He never wanted me to leave his side, but he thought it was the right thing, and I couldn���t fight it anymore.
„I don’t want you to play a babysitter anymore, seeing one shrink at a time is enough.”
He huffed and rolled his eyes, almost making me believe his words and for the first time I felt some kind of doubt. My safe place by his side was slowly fading away as he kept looking at me with something what felt like blame in his eyes. I shrinked into my seat trying to find any words, but every time I opened my mouth the room was filled with nothing but silence.
„Do you want me to leave?”
I repeated myself quietly, not able to find any other words suitable for what I was feeling at the moment.
„Are you even fucking listening?”
He wasn’t angry, but frustrated. I didn’t flinch at his voice, but I could feel the tears filling up my eyes slowly. I got up and picked my keys up from the table. After a few short breaths I found the courage to face him again.
„That’s what I do all the time, James. I listen. I wish you could do that for once.”
With my last word I turned away and walked to the door. He never tried to stop me, he didn’t say anything before I left. I held my tears back for as long as I could, letting go at the moment I sat in my car. I doubted all I did for him at the moment, knowing that one of us wasn’t ready for what we were doing, but I couldn’t realize who was the problem.
-----
„It’s been a week since you stopped attending the meetings. If Tony was mad earlier, you don’t want to know what Steve said today.”
Nat entered my room without knocking as always. She brought me a piece of Wanda’s cake, but I pushed the plate away, still refusing to eat whenever I wasn’t starving.
„I really just don’t want to see him, I’m not ready for that.”
She sat on the bed next to me, looking at me closely and sinking every word I said. It was the first time I said anything about what happened that day and she was willing to listen carefully to every word I say, analyzing every sigh and deep breath between them. I felt bad about treating her this way, she deserved to know everything, but I was scared of what I was going to say, I tried not to think about it, knowing my pain is now fully replaced with anger and frustration.
„I did everything I could, all this months I tried to help him and he acts like a fucking brat, trying to push me away. I’m so done with him, I’m not going back and begging him to let me do that all again. If he’s so devoted to Steve let’s just stick with that and let him live his pathetic little life without my interruptions.”
I said it all in one breath trying not to sound paranoid, but Nat only nodded slowly and laid on her back, staring at the perfectly white ceiling.
„I respect your every decision, but he’s only doing that to help you, and you know that. It’s you, who convinced me he means no harm and just can’t deal with his own mind, that’s why he’s trying to push you away. But it’s okay you’re tired with that, you don’t deserve it.”
I rolled on my stomach laying next to her and picked up the plate she put on the bed earlier. I stared at all the layers of my favorite toppings and saw how uneven it was looking, realizing Natasha helped Wanda with cooking this time. I smiled to myself remembering how much she hates doing that.
"Just wait for him to come back, he'll do it eventually."
„Thanks Nat, I’m glad you’re here.”
I said before dipping my fork in the cake.
---
Everyone got quiet when I entered the shared kitchen, it was the first time I was in the same room with Bucky since I left his apartment in tears. But I didn’t mind his presence, I knew he’s not going to bring it up when there were so many people around and I wasn’t planning on giving him a chance to speak to me in private. I walked up to the counter and poured myself a glass of water before heading to the coffee machine. I waited for my drink to brew when I turned away and rested my elbows on the counter behind me, almost tasting the tensed atmosphere I brought into the room.
„Are you planning on attending any meetings this week or should I just send you a fax with our arrangements?”
Tony asked calmly. He was mad at me, but acting as a human as possible he wasn’t planning on letting me know.
„Yeah, I’ll be there today.”
I shrugged my shoulders when Steve rolled his eyes, but I wasn’t looking at him. Bucky’s eyes were glued to the countertop in front of him, filled with guilt. He looked pathetic and I blamed myself for enjoying the view. After hearing a quiet beep my eyes left him to pick up the coffee.
„See you at 6.”
I said and started walking away lazily with mug in one hand and a glass of water in another. I was slowly getting used to this, feeling more comfortable leaving my room, not caring about the stares.
„You two should just fuck and let us get back to normal.”
I froze at Tony’s words and turned back to face him unconsciously.
„Come on, we can all see how you’re looking at each other, let’s finally get over this awkward phase.”
„Shut up.”
Bucky replied him firmly at his next words, but Tony just shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating his cereal. I tightened my grip on the glass in my hand and looked him in the eyes, shaking my head slowly. Little did he know, we did that once, a few weeks back and it never helped, it never changed our relationship. I couldn’t find proper words to respond so I just walked away and stopped after passing the first corner, when no one could see me. I let my head fall back and took a few deep breaths, feeling the almost healed wound open up again. I started walking away when I heard footsteps approaching me, but he was faster and caught up with me after only a few seconds. He blocked my way with his body, towering over me before I could reach the elevator and hide in my room.
„He shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.”
Bucky was trying to look me in the eyes but I successfully avoided it.
„Don’t act like you regret anything.”
I huffed and tried to pass him, but it was impossible. He raised his hand to tuck the strand of hair behind my ear but I flinched at his movement. He was visibly hurt by that, but not surprised, taking a step back his gaze never left me.
„Can we just talk like adult people do?”
„You’re not so good at that.”
I replied coldly, matching his earlier energy, trying to push him away as he did so many times.
„I am, you taught me that.”
„No, that’s a job for a shrink, so I’m not doing that again.”
„I know how you fee-„
„No, you fucking don’t!”
I replied throwing a glass at him, my words louder than necessary. He didn’t flinch, knowing I wasn’t actually aiming at him. The glass flew next to his face and shattered at the wall behind him.
„Fuck.”
I mumbled and dropped on my knees to pick up the glass from the floor. He kneeled besides me and pulled me away gently, grabbing the shattered pieces with his metal hand.
„You’ll hurt yourself.”
He said gently and I almost fell in his arms after these words, knowing how much I miss him and how much I want to be allowed to do that again.
„Like you care.”
I huffed in response and entered the elevator leaving him alone, kneeling in the puddle wetting his jeans, letting my frustration take over.
-----
I heard a soft knocking on my door. I raised myself on my elbows before realizing Nat and Wanda never knock, no matter what time they decide to come see me, so I rolled over with my back facing the door now. I didn’t want to talk to anybody else at the moment.
„I know you’re not sleeping, I can hear your uneven breath.”
I heard the words clearly, even tho his whisper was muffled by the door separating us. I didn’t respond, knowing he’ll come in eventually. I heard a resigned sigh before the door opened. His quiet footsteps echoing in my head when he circled the room and kneeled besides my bed to face me.
„I’m sorry for being such a dick.”
He said confidently waiting for my answer, but also knowing I’m not going to speak. He gave me a few seconds to make sure I don’t have anything to say before he spoke up again.
„I know how you feel, I can see how much you have to give up in order to help me. I know how alone you are, even with so many people supporting you. I know you did it all to make me feel better and I appreciate it more than anything, I need your help just as much as you think and more.”
I was a little confused at his words, actually admitting all the things he couldn’t say earlier.
„Then why are you like that?”
I felt the tears filling up my eyes again, but I didn’t care, letting them fall on my cheeks as our murmurs were filling up the quiet room.
„Because I can’t stand watching you do this. You don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you, but I can’t function without you. I need you back and I’ll do everything for you to forgive me again.”
His hand slowly landed on my cheek, wiping the tears away as he looked me in the eyes.
„See, that’s the problem. Again. How many times will you push me away before finally opening up and letting me really help you?”
My voice wasn’t shaking as much, feeling his touch calmed me down as always, no matter how I wanted to resist the feeling.
„I won’t do that ever again, I won’t hurt you. I just need you back, as clingy as always, being a pain in my ass every Friday morning, asking about my therapy. Making me watch all the stupid romantic movies, cuddling on the couch when I’m trying to move away. Dragging me back to bed when I lay on the floor and making me talk about my nightmares before we fall asleep again.”
"Who would think that Bucky Barns could ever kneel before a woman."
"And I'll do it again for you."
I couldn’t help but giggled at his words, knowing how much I miss that feeling too, no matter he was trying to act like he hates it, he loved it more than I did. He smiled softly at my reaction, and I knew it was sincere. He slowly stood up and took the covers off me. Picking me up gently he moved me to make space for himself and laid next to me, resting my head on his chest before pulling the covers over us once more.
„Just come back for the last time and I promise I won’t act like a brat and start treating you as you deserve. I would do anything for you and I can’t run from it anymore. I’m ready to give you everything I can and finally take care of you, like you did this whole time.”
He brushed his fingers through my hair and I nodded slowly, knowing he finally understood that pushing me away is not an option. I took a deep breath smelling his cologne and my eyelids got heavy as my body started to relax. I closed my eyes sinking in the feeling of our bodies being so close again, our legs tangled under the duvet, his heart beating right where my head was resting.
„Just close your eyes now, and we’ll start everything again tomorrow, okay?”
He asked quietly, his flesh hand not leaving my hair and the metal once still drawing circles on my back.
„Okay.”
I said before falling asleep, knowing I won’t wake up in the middle of the night as I did every time for the past week.
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#the winter soldier#winter soldier#the avengers#mcu#natasha romanoff#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky imagine#bucky barnes imagine#tony stark#steve rogers#wanda maximoff#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky oneshot#avengers x reader#bucky x female reader#marvel fanfiction#marvel oneshot#mcu fanfiction#mcu oneshot
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Struggles | a.Putellas x j.Hermoso
Hidden secrets series
Hidden secrets Masterlist
Warning: mention of pregnancy,
Four months into her pregnancy alexia whole body and perceptive had changed she thought that she could handle the changes that her body made.
but that came with a lot of over thinking and stressing about what could happen to her career.
Alexia knew not to be into her head that much but with everyone and everything spectating about her injured leg her mind couldn't focus on anything but that.
She tried her best to not focus on the negativity from the media but sometimes she just couldn't escape her own mind. she hated how the media started getting into her head.
Has it ever happened before ? Yes. but it had never gone way too far where she thought that she wasn't good enough.
if anything she was one of a kind but now she felt like a nobody.
alexia couldn't bother jenni with all of this, having the love of her life thinking she was pathetic would hurt way more than any other online comments about her.
Plus they've been redoing alexia whole places trying to make it accommodate with her needs and along with setting up the baby's room.
the only time she found comfort apart from jenni would be when she found herself spending time in her unborn child's room just the little things they've done in there gave alexia a bit of peace.
Currently resting in the rocking chair that had been placed in the room. Alexia had her head heavy in the clouds of thoughts.
were she hadn't heard jenni footstep especially when she called out her name.
Jenni on the contrary had rapidly noticed the swift changes in alexia behaviors.
She noticed it after alexia came back from her appointments and where they had barely spoken.
Normally the blond haired woman would have let her know anything that happened throughout the whole thing but on that day she barely spoke a word the moment she step foot into the house and just headed down to bed ignoring her.
So today when she found her sitting alone, she would make her talk cause she hated how the past few days had been for both of them.
After tapping alexia shoulder for what felt like forever getting the other woman's attention since she wasn't aware of her surroundings.
"Ale is everything alright?.
"mhm everything is ok".
jenni felt the emptiness from her voice she wanted to know what was going on but at the same time didn't want to stress out her beloved.
She would now find herself caressing her cheeks pulling her closer forming a hug between them.jenni could feel alexia tense body relaxed in her arms now.
"Wanna talk about it now".
Alexia slowly nodded her head finally deciding that she couldn't hold her struggles in anymore and needed someone.
Taking a deep breath before she stated speaking.
"I don't know jenni everything just feels frustrating not being able to do stuff on my own always needing help or assistance especially way more now I don't even feel like myself anymore"
Jenni felt herself pulling alexia into another hug as she couldn't utter a single word to comfort the woman right in front who was struggling.
she now made it a mission to make her feel better without making it seem like a chorus taking care of her.
Reminding her how talented and amazing she was cause no matter what she'll always be.
The Alexia putellas who doesn't let any obstacles get in her way.
Promising her that she'll always be by her side no matter what
Alexia obviously noticed jenni's effort in making her feel better but something in her heart felt a little empty that she couldn't explain but alexia wouldn't let it get to her head and just enjoy the moments.
Her heart truly belongs to jenni she thought thinking that her happily ever after would forever last.
A/n: hope y'all enjoy this chapter ik I promised longer chapters but I just can't seem to make it work but the other chaps coming would definitely make up for it. and has always ask ideas or any tips you have for me are always appreciated
#alexia putellas#jenni hermoso#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso#woso community#woso angst#woso fluff#alexia putellas x jenni hermoso#alexia putellas imagine#jenni hermoso imagine#jenni hermoso x reader#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas x y/n#jenni hermoso x yn#hidden secrets by pinkyqil#fcbfemeni x reader#fcb femini#espwnt x reader#espwnt#espwnt imagine#alexia x jenni#alexia imagine#alexia putellas x reader fluff#barcelona femeni imagine#jenni hermoso fic#alexia putellas fic#alexia putellas fluff#alexiaputellas
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A LITTLE SUN PART 7 (part II) Dieter Bravo x f!Reader
rating: 18+
tags: SMUT. Penetration, Oral (m and f receiving), use of 'daddy' (but you ain't into it), use of 'baby', Dieter being Dieter, fluff, like such tooth-rotting sweetness its almost gross, idiots in love, pregnancy, talk of pregnancy body changes/self esteem, love love love, family issues, mentions of parental death.
a/n: Tumblr is dumb and won't let me post the entire chapter in one post. ARGH. So below is part two.
HERE IS PART ONE OF THIS CHAPTER.
series masterlist
Your mother is pacing around the kitchen when the doorbell rings. With a muttered grumble she strides to the front door, tugging it open with a flourish. She expects to see her pregnant daughter there, what she doesn’t expect is a six foot movie star she hates to be flinching at her.
He’s wearing a short sleeved linen shirt, freshly pressed slacks and his usually unruly hair has been combed neatly. He even got Magda to trim his beard for him. He wants to make a good impression.
"Hi," Dieter says, his stomach churning anxiously as your mother stares him down. "I'm Dieter-"
"I know exactly who you are," the woman snaps, arms crossing over her front. "What do you want? I’m afraid I don't have any more daughters for you to buy babies from."
She tries to look around his broad shoulders. "Where is my daughter by the way?"
Dieter shuffles back and forth, his expensive dress shoes scraping the ground. Suddenly all his bravado has left him and he feels much like a chastised child.
"I wanted to talk to you," Dieter explains. "Just you and me if that’s okay?"
Your mother's brows knit angrily. "So she couldn't even be bothered-"
"She doesn't know I'm here," Dieter interjects.
He goes to say something more when he thinks he notices a car slowing down up the block. Paparazzi. Your mother notices as well because she ushers Dieter into the house, closing the door behind him sharply.
"You have five minutes."
Dieter slips off his shoes and follows her to the couch, about to launch into his speech when he sniffs the air.
"Are you baking?"
"Cinnamon bread. My daughters favorite," your mother says, eyes misting. She regards Dieter a moment, softening. "Would you like a piece?"
"I'd love one."
He takes a seat on the couch as ordered, watching as your mother brings out a tray holding several slices of cinnamon bread, a tea pot and two mugs.
“This is so fuc- darn delicious,” Dieter corrects himself, wiping the crumbs from his fingers on his pants, much to your mother’s dismay. “I love it.”
Your mother offers a small grunt by way of reply, watching him eat and taking small sips of her tea. Dieter notices you both hold your cups the same way, forefinger and pinky slightly out. It makes him long for you, wishing you were here with him as he attempts this conversation.
But you can’t be, he knows you’re too stubborn for it. Judging by how your mother is looking at him now, it’s a familial trait.
“I wanted to come over and try to explain things.”
“There’s nothing to explain,” your mother snaps, her teacup placed on the coffee table. “You and my daughter made a baby, she’s selling it to you and she never told me.”
"I'm sorry it was a secret for so long,” Dieter says. “It's just because of my notoriety that we had to keep it under wraps.”
“From the world, I understand, but from her own mother?” She shakes her head. “Do you know how hurtful that is? To find out your only child is pregnant because of the tabloids? To think you’re going to be a grandmother and then find out she’s selling the baby off?”
“She signed an NDA," Dieter explains with a wince, knowing how awful it sounds. "I'm so sorry. She hated to do it. It was my fault."
"And your mother?" Your mom huffs. "I bet she knew she was going to be a grandma before the tabloids di-"
She breaks off, irritated when she sees the hollow look in Dieters eyes.
"My uh, my mom isn't alive," Dieter says, fingers tapping anxiously at his side. "She died when I was in my twenties."
"Your father?"
Dieter shakes his head, wincing. Your fierce mother immediately softens her tone, her shoulders lowering.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“You shouldn’t be sorry to me about anything,” Dieter says in a soft rasp. “I’m the one who you should be mad at. Not your daughter.”
Your mother wraps her arms around herself. "How is she?"
"Hurt. She misses you."
"Must not miss me much. She's made no attempt to call."
"She's worried about what you'll say. Your opinion matters so much to her, you know that. Especially with her dad gone."
Your mother swallows. "They were so similar. So stubborn and..."
Suddenly the dam behind the woman's eyes breaks and Dieter watches her face crumple.
"I just wish he was here," she says, shoulders shaking. Dieter feels his own eyes filling with tears, his heart aching in tandem. He can't help but reach out and cover her hand with his.
"I’m so sorry."
"If he was here he would know exactly what to say," your mother continues, allowing his hand to remain over hers. "Michael could always get through to her when I couldn't."
“My mom knew me in a way my dad never did,” Dieter offers after a moment. “Knew exactly the right thing to say at the right time. It’s hard not having that. But you still have time with your daughter. Time that’s wasting with you two being mad at each other.”
Your mother blinks up at Dieter, a slow understanding reflected in her swimming eyes. As if she’s seeing him properly for the first time. He continues on, encouraged that it’s been over five minutes and she hasn’t kicked him out yet.
“And I know you think this whole thing with the baby is a spontaneous decision and that I’m massively immature and yeah, I can be. But you need to know that when your daughter told me she was pregnant it was the best day of my life," Dieter says, his voice thick with emotion.
He takes a moment, swallowing and blinking furiously. His hand tightens around your mothers’.
“But I’m not that guy anymore. I’ve changed. She’s changed me, my son has changed me. I’m not perfect, but I also don’t think there’s anyone in the world that will love your da—grandson more than me.”
Your mother blinks rapidly, her weathered face softening further. “My grandson?”
“If you want him to be,” Dieter explains, suddenly unsure. “If your daughter is okay with it. I don’t have any parents in my life. It would be nice for him to have a grandmother.”
Any lingering distaste your mother may have held for Dieter is wiped away in that moment. The sincerity in his wide dark eyes and the nervous way he twists the rings on his fingers endears her further.
“And I know you’re upset with her about all of this but I promise I’ll take care of her for the rest of her life,” Dieter finishes, his eyes glassy. “Even if she’s in Sacramento doing school. Even if she never wants to see me or our son. I want to make her happy and that means taking care of you too. The house is paid for; your daughter will be taken care of.”
Your mother’s hands move from under Dieter’s to over, clasping his wide hands tightly. She has a gentle smile on her face now, the anger gone from her voice.
“I thank you Dieter. That is a kindness that touches my heart. Knowing I can remain in the same house I raised my family in means more to me than you realize. But it wasn’t your place to do it.”
“I know.”
“I can’t accept it.”
“Please,” Dieter begs with his big brown eyes so round and sorrowful your mother has to blink back a new onslaught of tears. “She’s giving me the world. The rest of your mortgage is nothing in comparison to that.”
Your mother can’t help but laugh out loud at the earnestness in his expression. He grins crookedly as she laughs, wiping tears from her lash line. He waits until she sobers, shaking her head with a small smile on her face.
“Alright, I accept it. But only if you’ll let me cook you dinner every once in a while.”
“And cinnamon bread?”
“And cinnamon bread,” your mother says laughing again. “As for taking care of my daughter? That is something you’ll have to take up with her. But be warned she’s even more stubborn than me.”
“Don’t I know it,” Dieter grins shyly, causing the two of them to chuckle between themselves softly.
“I’ll call her,” your mother says resolutely. “I need to apologize and tell her she can move back home if she wants.”
Dieter immediately stiffens. He hadn’t thought about this part.
"Actually if its okay I want her to stay with me until the baby is born," Dieter explains, curls falling into his eyes, his mannerisms anxious. "I like having my son nearby."
"And perhaps having my daughter nearby too?" Your mother peers into his face with a small curl of her lips. “You care for her. More than a boss for an employee. Or a father for a surrogate.”
Dieter looks overcome for the moment, his dark eyes on the floor. He doesn’t know how to respond.
“That’s between you two,” your mother acknowledges. “It’s not my place to say anything.”
Before Dieter can say anything in reply he hears the sound of a frantic key turning in the lock and the front door is thrust open.
The two of them whip their heads in the direction of the front door to see you stumbling into the house, slamming the door behind you. Your hair is wild, your face flushed and you look extremely pissed off. You look at the two of them on the couch and your brows knit.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
"How did-"
"Magda," you answer before Dieter can finish the question. "Why the fuck are you here at my house with my mom?"
You watch as your mom rises from the couch next to Dieter. Her eyes are wet and when she gazes at your very full stomach she gives a soft little gasp.
"Honey-"
"Don't honey me," you snap, feeling angry tears welling in your eyes as you glare over at Dieter. "Let's go, Dieter."
"Baby, wait-" Dieter starts, pausing only when you whip back around to fix him with a leveling glare.
He looks so sorrowful standing there between you and your equally broken-looking mother that you find yourself relenting. You have an idea on why he’s here and even if it wasn’t his place you can’t deny that it was kind of him to try.
"Go wait in the kitchen, please."
Dieter opens his mouth to suggest something else but the glint to your eyes has him slamming it shut and nodding. You wait until he's shuffled into the next room before looking back at your mother.
"Baby?" Your mom ventures gently.
"He calls everyone that," you lie.
She nods slowly but you know she doesn't believe you. Your mother also knows you well enough that she doesn’t attempt to sway you.
"Here, come take a seat," she offers motioning to the couch. "Your ankles must be swollen."
You lift a surprised brow but you waddle over to her, settling into the seat with an exhale. You look at Dieter’s leftover cinnamon bread crumbs and frown. How long was he here for? You look back to your mother, shocked at her gentle countenance. You’d expected anger or frustration, instead you see only regret.
"How did you know about the ankles?"
"I was the same when I was pregnant with you," she says coming to sit on the other end of the couch. "I carried high like you as well."
"Really?" You absently drape your fingers over the curve of your stomach.
"Oh yes," your mother smiles, eyeing your bump.
As you sit there discussing this with shy smiles you wish that this pregnancy was normal. That you had a husband and excited family that threw you a baby shower for a child you'd be able to bring home and care for at the end of it all.
You wish your mom felt comfortable to place her hands on your stomach and to care for this little boy you carry. But she’s holding back her emotions, not wanting to get attached.
After several moments your mom shuffles closer to you on the couch, her hand coming to cup not your stomach, but your cheek.
“I’m sorry,” your mom says, and you’re shocked at the tears pooling in her eyes. “I never wanted… I just… I acted shamefully.”
“I don’t understand why,” you explain, chin wobbling. “We’ve always had a great relationship. Or I thought we did.”
“I thought we did too,” your Mom acknowledges. “But considering you kept this a secret I think I might have done something wrong along the way. You never should have been afraid to come to me with this.”
You don’t know how to answer that.
“You won’t understand until you’re a -” you mom catches herself. “A parent provides for their children, not the other way around. I felt ashamed that you felt you needed to take care of me.”
For a moment you look at her not as your mother, but as a woman. A tired woman who sacrificed so much to see you taken care of and your heart cracks.
“I like taking care of you Mom,” you explain, swallowing the tears there. “I love you. You’re all I have left. Fighting with you these past few weeks has been awful.”
“I know honey,” your mom says and now she pulls you into her arms, rocking you as if you were still that child who ran to her with a scraped knee or boy troubles. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”
“Of course I do,” you say, burying your face in her shoulder as you let the tears flow. For the first time since your father died the two of you cry together, arms wrapped around one another, your son nestled between the two of you. Finally sniffling you pull back, wiping at your eyes.
“Were you mean to Dieter?”
“Tried to be,” your mother replies with a grin. “Impossible to be though. He’s very sweet.”
“He’s been amazing through this whole thing,” you answer honestly, feeling the need to sing his praises to the woman who usually derides him. “He’s been the most supportive, caring version of himself I’ve ever seen. Sober, sweet and I love being around him.”
Your mother’s eyes search yours intensely, so much that you blink wondering what she’s looking for. Her gaze breaks when a shy Dieter knocks on the wall separating the two rooms.
“Uh, is it okay if I come in?”
Your mother laughs. “We’ll come to you. My daughter needs some cinnamon bread.”
The two of you stand, your mom helping you before letting her hand fall briefly to your swollen belly. You watch her face beaming as she does before her eyes go to yours.
“My baby having a baby,” she murmurs.
The two of you enter into the kitchen hand in hand. Dieter is standing by the sink, his hair even more wild than usual. He was obviously running his hands through it anxiously.
Dieter approaches you both slowly, as if he’s concerned one of you will be furious. When he sees the easy smile in both of your faces and your clasped hands he feels the tightness in his chest release.
“Thank you, Dieter,” you tell him gently as he approaches. He doesn’t push it, doesn’t ask you to elaborate. He just nods his head, smiling and coming to stand next to you. Your mother releases your hand, coming to stand in front of you both.
“Now you can retire,” Dieter offers with a hopeful look in your mother’s direction.
“No,” your mom says shortly, drawing both sets of eyes her way. You feel yourself deflate, closing your eyes for a steadying moment. You can’t stand the cruelty she’s still holding in her heart for Dieter after everything.
“Mom-“
“No, I like my job,” your mother tells Dieter, ignoring you. She comes to stand in front of him, having to look up due to her short stature. “I enjoy it. So I won’t retire. But I will work less and try to enjoy more of my life.”
You both break into easy grins.
“Yes ma’am.”
Your mother’s smile dims a fraction as she gazes between the two of you.
“Dieter has offered me a chance to be the baby’s grandmother,” your mother says quietly. “But that will be your decision my love. I won’t do anything that you’re uncomfortable with.”
You swallow. “Do you want to be his grandmother? Even if I’m not in the picture? Even if we have no legal right?”
“I would,” your mother replies without hesitation. You turn your head to face the taller man to your left.
“And you’re really okay with it, Dieter?”
“More than okay.”
Dieter’s eyes are on the ground, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions. He wishes his own mother was here, wishes she could have met you. He knows that she would have loved you.
“Then I’m okay with it,” you murmur.
He’s so grateful that his baby will have a grandmother. Even if you want nothing to do with him he’ll forever have this tie to you.
Your mother glances over at Dieter before stepping towards him.
"Let me see your face," your mother demands cupping Dieter's stubbled cheeks in her hands and forcing his eyes to hers. A few quiet minutes pass, their eyes in silent communion before you see both sets watering.
You watch in shock as your mother leans forward and in an act so naturally maternal kisses Dieter's forehead gently.
"You're a good man," she tells him gently. "A good man who acts silly sometimes."
When tears slip down Dieter’s cheeks you feel your jaw drop. Your mother pulls him into a tight hug, rocking him as they stand, murmuring something into his wild hair. You breathe unsteadily when his own arms go to wrap around her waist, clinging to her. He looks like a lost boy finding harbor in the embrace of his mother, his shoulders shaking gently as she soothes him in her arms.
She looks over at you, smiling gently. She tugs you over into her arms as well and before long the three of you are embracing standing in the middle of your mom's messy kitchen.
"Will you two stay for dinner?" Your mother asks eyes hopeful when the three of you break apart, all sets of eyes glassy.
"That would be so great," Dieter says excitedly before you can answer, rubbing at his wet eyes. He wants to take advantage of being in your home. He wants to see where you grew up, where you exist when you're not with him.
"You're Chilean right?"
"Part, yeah."
"Right, I'm going to pop out to the market," your mom says with a wide grin as she picks up her car keys. "I'll be back in a flash."
Your mother is gone excitedly out the door before you can even process what’s happening. That you’re having dinner with your boss and your mom and your unborn child. It’s all a bit much. And yet the thought warms you.
“So do I get a tour?”
“Sure,” you say grinning. Without thought you take his hand, guiding him through the hall pointing out the rooms, giving small synopsis like “this is where I was standing when my first boyfriend called and broke up with me” and “this is where I fell in the tub and cracked my tooth”
“And you know my bedroom,” you tell him with a smirk. “Very acquainted with the closet, I believe.”
He grins before taking his time looking around your room. Last time he’d been in a rush, but today he looks at everything. He sees the framed photo of you on horseback, the science ribbons for first and second place. He notices a trophy for high school tennis. He grins at the poster of Cillian Murphy behind your door. He sees the Polaroid’s of you and your friends stuck to your mirror.
“You never mention your friends,” Dieter observes pointing at the photo. “How come?”
“I never see them,” you shrug coming over to peer at them. “They all got married, had kids. I was in school and then I was working and we kind of just lost touch.”
“Do you miss them?”
“Honestly? Sometimes. But school and my career just always seemed more important.”
“You don’t think you could have both? A career and a family?”
“Not really,” you shake your head. “Can’t have it all.”
“Why not?”
“I dunno,” you shrug again. “Something has to give.”
“Only if you have a shit partner,” Dieter offers.
Before you can say anything more he’s gone to your bookshelf, looking at the tomes that reside there and muttering their titles under his breath. You watch him just existing in this room, before your reason for rushing over here affronts you.
“Did you pay off my Mom’s mortgage?”
“Yeah,” Dieter replies after a beat, twisting to face you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
You stare at Dieter as he says this, the passion in his voice overwhelming you. Since when was this his plan? You’re supposed to take the three hundred grand and go.
“Why do that? You knew I was going to do it.”
“I wanted that money to be for you,” Dieter explains. “Not taking care of the mortgage and everything else. I’d pay for your school too but something tells me you’d refuse that.”
“Correct.”
“Your mother was right, you are stubborn.”
This gets a shocked laugh out of you. “What else did you two talk about?”
“That’s between her and me,” he says with a supercilious look on his face. “I think she might like me better than you at this point.”
Affection swims through your limbs and it carries you to him. Without warning your hands go to his shoulders, mouth pressing gently to his. He accepts this eagerly, his wet tongue dabbing against yours gently.
"Thank you," you whisper against his full mouth. "But you don't have to take care of me."
"I like taking care of you," Dieter murmurs, his nose tracing yours. "You spent so long taking care of me and everyone else; let me take care of you now."
You nod; kissing him again and feeling him slowly back you towards your bed.
“Mia,” you remind him.
“Its fine,” he assures you, hands tugging at the hem of your shirt.
“I’m not going to sleep with you when you’re in a relationship, Dieter.”
“I’m not,” he promises you, “I swear.”
You want to press him for more information. But more than that, you just want Dieter. You need to be as close to him as possible. You need to feel his bare skin on yours, inhale the crook of his neck, taste his lips.
And when he gently urges you onto your back in your childhood bed you don't fight him. You allow him to bring down your shorts and panties and even though you can't see anything other than his hair over your belly you can't stop the gasp that escapes you when his mouth begins to work over your core.
Moments later after you've come spectacularly for him, groaning out his name with your thighs quivering against his ears and your hands fisting through his hair, he crawls up next to you on the bed.
He traces over your abdomen, his dark eyes ever widened in wonder as he feels his son underneath his palm. Sunlight filters in through your bedroom window, giving him a haloed effect as he gazes down at you, his mouth swollen and damp.
"I don't know how I'm going to go back to normal life," you smile sleepily as you run a finger along his lower lip. "After being spoiled by Dieter Bravo school is sure going to pale in comparison."
Dieter keeps the smile frozen on his face but inside his stomach drops. Your schooling is going to start soon. He’s going to be separated from you. He feels his sons foot kick him and you both giggle. At least he’ll have this part of you.
He helps you into your panties and shorts before your mother returns shortly after. If she notices your flushed cheeks and Dieters extra mussed hair she doesn't comment on it.
"I cheated," your mom says with a mischievous little smile that Dieter thinks looks identical to yours as she hands you both your plates when you come to sit at the dining table. "There's a wonderful Latin restaurant in town. They make the best palta."
The food is just as good as she made it seem. Between the palta and the Estofado and variety of empanadas you’re quickly overwhelmed with taste. You take your time savoring it though, making a note to try more Chilean food in the future.
“So I guess I’ll move back tomorrow,” you say after a hot bite of your stew. “I only have the two suitcases.”
Nothing about moving back appeals to you, aside from seeing your mother on a regular basis. You know for a fact that being away from Dieter will hurt, but perhaps that’s for the best. You need to separate yourself from this silly fantasy.
"You can move back here at any time my love," your mom enthuses before casting a quick look at Dieter's downturned face. "But I think it would be best if you stayed at Dieter's. He has all that space and a pool and that chef-"
"But I don't like to think of you here all by yourself," you insist.
"Honey, don't worry about me. I lived with your father and then you for over thirty five years. I need a break."
You sputter a surprised laugh at this. This whole time you had been painting your mother as this sad tragic figure, when really she's a woman coming into her own just as much as you are. You swallow your mouthful, eyes darting to the man at your left.
"Is it okay if I stay at your place a little longer, Dieter?"
"Of course," Dieter enthuses through a mouthful of avocado. "I told you, stay as long as you like. And now your Mom can come visit whenever she likes."
You smile at this, holding in the urge to kiss him.
When Dieter rests his arm on the back of your chair during the rest of dinner you don't even register it happening. When his fingertips absently trace your upper arm as he listens to your mom talking about her job you don't notice.
But your mom notices. She notices it all.
On the drive back home your mind is a muddle of things. But mostly your heart swells with the knowledge that Dieter, a man you always thought was chronically selfish did this for you at no gain for himself.
"You didn't have to do that for me," you tell him as you walk back into Dieter’s home a short while later. He’s quiet with a faraway look in his eyes.
"I know. I just wanted to help."
The two of you are heading to the kitchen, about to put away the leftovers your mother insisted on sending home with you. Dieter takes them from your hands with a soft “I got it” before popping them in the fridge.
Dieter had always struck you as self-centered, the entire time you worked for him. From the flippant way he spoke to people in the industry he disliked, to the cavalier attitude towards other PA’s.
But right now all you can think of is the way he's continually showed up for you. The way he supports you in not only this pregnancy but your schooling, your family, your goals. You see a change in him, one that takes your breath away.
“Dieter?”
“Yeah?”
He sees your eyes and the way they go dark the longer you stare at him. The desire is so clear in your expression.
He crosses the room and his mouth comes to yours, petal soft. He sighs, hands coming to either side of your neck, thumbs propped against your jaw. You lean into the kiss, your belly sandwiched between the two of you.
"Take me to bed, Dieter."
Dieter doesn't hesitate, his arm bands around your waist guiding you to the bedroom.
He takes his time undressing you, kissing every part of your flesh he uncovers. He kisses the stretch marks on your belly, and he caresses the extra flesh that pads your body with a reverence that makes you teary.
Your stomach is getting too large for missionary so he sweetly urges you to roll onto your side, not doing anything until you’re comfortable. Only then does he makes sweet and gentle love to you, your head on his arm as he fills you slowly, watching the way your body responds to him.
He holds you delicately at first, not wanting to be too rough. But you’re eager, so fucking eager, and your hand goes to his hip, urging him to go harder, to go faster.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, your thigh over his, your body slowly being pumped into by him. You’re arching, whimpering his name as he holds you against him. Every stroke feels like adoration, every graze of his fingers against your clit feels like more than just desire.
“I need to hear you come, baby,” he murmurs, his nose running along your temple. You turn your face to him, kissing him gently as his thrusts deepen, his lips hot and needy.
“Wanna come for you,” you gasp, your body starting to clench around him tighter and tighter before your head is tilted back against his throat as you cry his name. Your body spasms as arousal coats his cock still buried within you.
“So good for me, so fucking good,” Dieter groans, his thrusts becoming erratic. Before long his eyes roll back and he’s emptying himself into you, hands gripping your chest and cunt, needing you as close as possible.
Slowly your breathing slows and you both grow drowsy. But before you fall asleep you roll until you’re facing him. He looks so beautiful staring back at you with sleepy eyes and his curls spread out on his pillow.
You kiss him gently, hand at his collar before pulling back.
"Dieter, I think you're gonna make an amazing father."
Something about the sincerity in your voice moves him to tears that he has to blink back. He draws you closer to him under the duvet, needing the warmth of your skin, the closeness of your body.
"Do you really mean that?"
"Every word."
Dieter is on a unicorn floaty, half dozing in the late morning sunshine when you ask him.
"Dieter, will you tell me about your mom?"
It comes out of nowhere one day in the pool. You're half stretched out on a purple pool noodle, your lower half submerged in the clear water as you kick lazily. Dieter turns his head when you ask him.
"What about her?"
You shift on your pool noodle, getting comfortable. "What was she like?"
Dieter takes a moment to compose his thoughts. His lower lip tends to stick out when he does it.
"Funny. Smart. Dramatic like me." Dieter grins. "She died when I was in my early twenties and sometimes I wanna be furious about all the time I didn't get to spend with her. But then I count myself lucky I had two decades."
You don't say much to that. You don't know why but you crave more knowledge about Dieter that isn't surface level. You crave more from him, almost like you need to know him better than anyone.
"She's the one who encouraged me to go into acting," Dieter continues. "She worked two jobs so she could pay for my acting classes."
"Really?"
"Yeah. She was so excited when I got the scholarship to RADA," Dieter says dragging his hand through the water.
"She sounds amazing."
"She would have loved you," Dieter says before he can stop himself. For some reason this comment causes your heart to flip.
He looks momentarily lost in thought before turning his gaze to you. His eyes scan the freckles starting on your shoulders, the light that shines in your hair. He's dazzled for a moment before he remembers that he wanted to ask you something.
"What about you? What was your dad like?"
A little smile breaks out over your features. You rarely talk about your father but right now all that comes to you are good memories.
"Smart. Scary smart actually. Like, every time we played wheel of Fortune he'd guess it within like the first two letters," you laugh gently. "He was the first person I told about my Masters program. The first person I told about a lot of stuff. He was always my cheerleader."
"Sounds like a great dad."
"He loved your movies," you say, kicking your feet in the water gently. "He made me sit through a Cliff Beasts marathon one year for his birthday."
Dieter almost falls off his floaty in shock.
"No shit. Really?"
"Yeah," you give a giggle before turning a bit reserved. "He and your mom would have gotten along, I think.”
"Bet they would have been the most amazing grandparents," Dieter says in a faraway voice.
"Definitely."
Dieter shifts in the unicorn, causing it to squeak. His sunglasses are slid back up his nose and he grows somber.
"You must be excited about starting school again," Dieter says tightly hoping the disapproval in his voice isn't obvious.
He looks over at you when you don't reply right away. You look conflicted, almost guilty as you glide a hand through the water in front of you.
"Sometimes I wonder if I'm continuing on with school and everything because that's what I was doing when my dad died," you offer solemnly.
"Are you?"
"Not sure. When he died I thought it was such a natural next step to use my biology background and go into research." A niggle of doubt is there at the back of your head. "But I'm not sure that's what I want anymore."
"So you might not go back?"
Dieter hopes the eagerness in his voice isn't too obvious.
"I don't know," you answer honestly before sliding off the pool noodle and paddling in place. "I'm tired. I think I'm gonna have a nap."
Dieter watches you walk up the steps of the pool, ass twitching as you grab a towel and head into the main house. But that's not what causes the grin to start on his face.
You're not sure about going back to school.
There's hope.
"Just this once," Dieter murmurs, his teeth skating along your pulse point. "C'mon baby."
You’re on all fours, your stomach supported by a variety of pillows. Dieter is behind you, hands on your hips, his body tilting over yours. It’s a Saturday night and he’s just got back from a particularly boring table read.
His hands found yours without question when he got home not long ago, pulling you along with him to bed and whispering into your ear the one thing he’s wanted to hear since he got you pregnant.
You sigh heavily, eyes closed as he sinks into you.
"Please make me come… Daddy.”
Dieter groans lowly in his throat, his cock driving into you deeply. You're too overwhelmed by the sensation to be turned off by the honorific. And if he’d just left it at that, you could have continued without further distraction.
But Dieter is completely turned on by the expression, his hands coming to hold yours to the mattress as he tilts his mouth to your temple.
"Yeah, you made me a Daddy," Dieter breathes against your ear as he thrusts. "You like that? Huh? Daddy fucking you?"
“Not at all,” you cringe, unable to help yourself from laughing. The entire ‘Daddy’/‘Mommy’ thing has never turned you on. “I hate it worse than baby mama.”
Dieter sighs, his motions slowing. "C'mon."
"It's creepy," you tell him. "I don't like the Daddy thing."
"Fine," Dieter grumbles as his motions slow further. "Just wanted a little dirty talk is all."
Dieter’s thrusting has gone from staccato-ed to completely still. You glance over your shoulder at him with your brows raised. His cheeks are red, he’s embarrassed. Dieter rarely gets embarrassed like this and you find it completely endearing.
“I was just trying to have a little fun,” Dieter pouts, about to pull out of you.
“Hey hey, I like fun,” you tell him, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck so he can’t leave in a huff. You start to push back against his length, gratified when you hear him give a muffled whimper into your shoulder.
“Like maybe you tie me up sometime?”
“You’d let me do that?” Dieter asks in awe, his cock slipping further into you. You groan at the sensation, arm dropping as you gain purchase on the mattress once more. His thrusting is increasing in tempo again, stoking that pleasured spot within you.
“Yeah,” you breathe softly. “Yeah, I would.”
And you mean it. You’ve never done it with anyone else, but you would with Dieter. He doesn’t do things harsh and cruel. He touches you reverently. You trust him.
“I’d let you tie my wrists and ankles,” you tell him, body arching as he continues to thrust. “Let you have your way with me.”
Dieter gives a guttural choke at the very thought of it. You tied up, spread eagle on his bed so he could go down on you for hours. Pulling delicious fucking noises from you as you writhe for him.
“Would you want that?” you tease, knowing very well he would. “Having me at your mercy, Dieter? Fucking me exactly how you want?”
“Yes,” Dieter almost shouts, “fuck yes I would. Please…. Fuck I…”
His forehead dips to your shoulder blade as he pulls you back and forth against his length, jutting his hips forward. You feel so good, so silken and tight and perfect and he can’t believe this is happening. That you’ve fallen into this comfortably rhythm of give and take. That you can be vulnerable with him like this.
“How would you fuck me?” you ask, feeling your climax approaching. “Tell me, Dieter, I’m so close.”
“Would eat you out for hours. Wouldn’t…. wouldn’t be able to help myself,” Dieter grunts, his cock quickly pressing into you over and over. “Then I’d turn you over...a-and I’d tie your wrists together, mmmph…. And I’d…I’d-“
Dieter doesn’t get to finish that thought because he feels you hit your peak, whining out his name as you climax. Dieter feels your cunt milking his cock and his voice croaks out some garbled gibberish as he empties himself into you.
You fall asleep not long after that, your naked body glowing in the moonlight like some goddess of myth. He realizes he would do anything to keep you like this. Happy and sated and with him.
But mostly, he wants you to want him.
"You said you got into RADA right?"
"Yeah, but I didn't go," Dieter says as he goes over his latest script suggestion from his agent. "Got a reoccurring part in a soap opera a few weeks before I was starting and then the first Cliff Beasts and then, well, you know the rest."
"Do you still have your audition tape?"
"It's on YouTube. Some asshole uploaded it when I got nominated for my Oscar."
"Really? Can we watch it?"
"Knock yourself out."
Dieter watches you waddle to the tv room, excitedly bringing YouTube up on the television and typing Dieter Bravo RADA audition.
You sit on the couch, looking eagerly up at the screen. A very fresh-faced Dieter pops up.
"Oh my gosh you're so young!" You say with a girlish giggle. "So weird to see you without a beard."
Dieter can't help but casually make his way over to the couch, plopping down next to you and watching his younger self.
"Hi my name is Dieter Bravo and I would like to submit myself for acceptance into your program," the young Dieter says, eyes bright and smile big. "Today I'll be performing Gloumov’s monologue from The Diary of a Scoundrel” by Alexander Ostrovsky."
"Your voice is so different."
The young Dieter positions himself slightly to the left of the screen.
"Barely out of puberty." Dieter casts a critical eye over his formerly svelte frame. "And about fifty pounds lighter."
"I like how you look now," you answer honestly. "More manly."
Before Dieter can accept that compliment his younger self is starting the scene.
"Look into my eyes. Can’t you see there that I’d rather die than cause you a moment’s pain?"
Young Dieter takes a moment, his dark eyes beguiling as he stares into the camera, overcome, before continuing. And there on the screen You see the same transformation that you saw back on set in Ireland. Where Dieter becomes the character.
"Oh, if you only knew how many times your sweet, gentle smile has stopped me on the very brink of impropriety," the young Dieter pauses, his eyes shiny.
"But even that day when I forgot myself, you didn’t turn me from the house! Oh, my God, what happiness you’ve given me. What happiness, what happiness!"
A tear is shining on young Dieter's cheek as he gives a soft smile into the camera, a look of relief on his face.
"Holy shit," you breathe, eyes wide. "Dieter that was ... Really good."
"You sound surprised."
"Well I guess ... I've only really seen you in the Cliff Beasts movies. I didn't know you could, you know, act-act."
"You thought I won an Oscar for having a great personality?"
You give him a playful shove as Dieter's younger self comes back to the screen.
"Thank you for your time. Hope I see you in the fall."
Dieter plucks the remote from the coffee table about to change it to something less him. He tires of seeing his face on televisions and phones and sides of buses.
Something captures his attention though, one of the suggested videos on the right.
"Hmmm, there's a video on home births," Dieter says as he navigates the screen. "Wanna watch? Might prep us."
"Sure."
Thirty minutes later Dieter pauses the television, both of you sitting shell-shocked next to one another.
"That was a terrible idea."
"I agree."
The camera had captured everything. In HD detail. Up close. Including a very vivid image of a baby crowning.
"That's what's gonna happen to me?" You say in a high pitched voice, struggling to your feet. "I can't do that!"
You've been reading books ever since the strip turned pink, but actually seeing it is totally different.
"A little late for that," Dieter says from the couch watching you begin to pace back and forth in front of the television.
"That was disgusting," you say with a particularly aggressive jab of your finger towards the television. "Did you know about the placenta? It's like I have to give birth twice!"
"At least it's not twins," Dieter offers weakly. He doesn't miss the irritation that flashes in your eyes.
"Should we watch the rest?"
"Your call," Dieter shrugs. You take a moment, looking at the television paused on a serious looking doctor.
You take your seat next to Dieter once more. "Okay. I'm ready."
Twelve minutes later the movie is shut off indefinitely.
"An episiotomy?" You practically shriek before leaving the room. "If that happens I'm charging you extra, Bravo!"
Your mother starts to come over weekly for coffee. The first time she does you show her the nursery. She's all smiles and wet eyes as she walks around the space. You know she's marveling at the high-end designer items, the impossibly soft sheets and ornately carved crib. You never grew up with expensive things like that.
When the two of you make your way into the kitchen and you make her a coffee she smiles up at you.
"Dieter told me about the charity he's thinking of creating."
You almost drop the espresso cup that you're holding. "You talk with Dieter?"
"Of course," she nods. "He calls me to update me on the baby and texts the odd photo every now and again."
"What?!"
You're struck dumb by this. Your mother barely texts you, and now she's best friends with your boss? She smiles at your discomfiture. But you’re blown away, and a little irritated since you also send your mom updates via email almost daily when she’s not here for her weekly (decaf) coffee checkups and snuggles.
"You fit right in here."
"I'm just part of the scenery until the baby gets here" you smile pouring her the coffee and sliding the mug towards her across the counter. "Then it's back to school and on my way to a PhD for research."
You slice up the carrot cake that Petra made for your visit (along with your help), sliding a plate to your mother and taking one for yourself.
"I wanted to talk to you about that," your mom says, gaze curious. "Why are you doing the PhD thing?"
You sit across from her, brows raised. "You know why, Mom."
"It’s just you never wanted one before your father passed," she says lightly. "You said your Masters was enough."
You don't know why but you feel defensive.
"Well when he died I wanted to do something to honor him I guess. What better way to do that than by helping with the research?"
"Your father was a smart man, he was amazing at his job and so proud of you, you know that," your mother tells you before placing a dry hand over yours. "But his biggest joy in life was being a father."
"What are you getting at?"
"I'm saying I don't want you to dedicate your life to something because you feel like you should. This is your life, my love. You only get one."
"I know."
"There are plenty of ways to give back, to honor your father and still be around to watch your son grow up."
Your hackles immediately rise and she can tell the second they do.
"I'm sorry," she says quickly when she sees the expression on your face. "Never mind. Let's talk about something else."
The rest of the visit flows smoothly, but you can’t ignore the way your mother looks at you whenever you mention Dieter.
"Taco Bell."
Dieter is woken out of a deep sleep by your lips at his ear. You're curled up together in his bed, your belly prodding his lower back.
"A Burrito supreme and a large Baja blast… And Cinnamon Twists…And four fire sauce packets."
You're warm against his spine, voice a soft whisper huffed along his earlobe. He’s dazed, his eyes blurry as he attempts to understand what’s happening.
"Huh?"
"I need Taco Bell," you urge. "Please?"
A quick glance at his phone tells him that it's nearing 2:00 a.m.
"S'too late for the delivery apps, baby," he murmurs, patting your thigh companionably as if the conversation is now over.
For the most part, Dieter can anticipate and appease your cravings. Usually through Petra or food delivery apps. But at almost two in the morning he has access to neither.
You don't care.
You've been tossing and turning for hours because all you can think about is the beans and tomato and beef... You're practically drooling already. You pat his bottom politely, trying to signal he needs to get out of bed.
"The drive thru is open."
"It's late."
"But I need it," you whine.
You have no interest in attempting to drive one of Dieter's fancy foreign cars he keeps in the large garage. And it's too late to call a town car so you're stuck.
"No one ever needs Taco Bell. Bringing that shit in here is offensive," he mutters into his pillow. "S'full of filler and chemicals."
You give a soft exhale through your nose, about to flop onto your back in defeat when something occurs to you. Something else that you're craving as well.
Dieter is drifting back to sleep when he feels the light graze of your hand sliding over his hip. He thinks he's imagining it, but as the sensation continues his cock begins to stir. He goes rigid as your hand slides under his boxers, fingertips teasing his warm length as he groans.
"You do this for me and I'll do something for you when you get back," you purr, tongue coming to trace his lobe. "Daddy."
Dieter jumps out of the bed and nearly trips in his pursuit to grab his car keys as he simultaneously tugs on his sweatpants.
"You want cheesy potatoes too?"
When you wake up at seven months pregnant and see your reflection one morning you almost burst into tears.
You’re standing in front of the dresser mirror in your bikini, the only one left that fits. Your tits are practically bursting out of the cups, the bottoms tie at your hips dig into your flesh. You feel huge, you feel ugly and you feel not yourself.
There’s a knock at the bedroom door. Dieter peeks around, already dressed for the pool, a pink towel slung over his freckled shoulder.
“Swim time?”
Usually you swim by yourself, but Dieter has a rare free morning this week and he wants to take advantage. It had seemed like such a nice suggestion at breakfast, but now you balk, wishing you had anything else to wear but your fucking bikini.
Before it hadn’t mattered, but today you feel gross. You want to cover up as much as possible and you reach for your towel. But Dieter’s eyes are already drifting over your body, his cock stirring.
Dieter takes in the way your stomach protrudes out in the bikini, a beacon of fertility; his son nestled there safe within your body. He moves into the room, the towel dropping without thought onto the floor behind him.
"You're exquisite," Dieter breathes, his hand coming to rest on your belly. You feel his thumb gently rub, his eyes sparkling as he continues to stare at you.
"I look disgusting," you say cringing away from him. Dieter won't let go of your wrist as you try to flee.
"Are you fucking insane?"
“Dieter stop,” you say, wincing away from him and trying to pull your wrist out of his warm grip.
"You don't believe me," Dieter states flatly.
"No I don't," you reply sharply. "It's what everyone tells pregnant women so they don't feel shitty about looking like a house."
Dieter blinks at you as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing before he’s shaking his head. His hands slide to your plush hips, turning you back to face the dresser. His eyes have blown pitch black, and his hands can’t stop from running along your body.
"Look at her," Dieter groans into your ear. "Look at that sexy thing in the mirror."
"Dieter-"
"Keep looking," he urges you, hand gently forcing your face in the direction of the mirror before his hands slide up your bikini top over your breasts, pebbling the nipples. You swallow at the sensation, not even protesting when he unties it at the back, letting the colorful fabric drop to the ground.
You stand there in nothing but your bikini bottoms, cheeks flushed as Dieter groans deliciously behind you. His hands come to cup your tits, thumbs grazing the protruding nipples.
“See her gorgeous fucking tits?”
You cringe away from the mirror, hating how you look. But if Dieter is lying about how turned on he is, he’s a better actor than you ever gave him credit for because his cock is swelling against your lower back, stiff and pulsing.
You let him untie your bikini bottoms, finding yourself already slick between your legs when they drop to the ground along with everything else. You watch in the mirror as Dieter sheds his swim shorts before gently urging you to place your forearms on the dresser.
You can only watch his face as he notches his cock at the entrance to your pussy, rubbing the head there and gathering the copious amounts of slick. His eyes flick from your face to your cunt as if he can’t decide which he needs to see more.
“Keep watching yourself, beautiful,” He rasps as he sinks into you, cock thick and full as you gasp. You’ll never tire of that sensation, the first thrust of his cock inside you. Your head falls forward but Dieter’s hand is there, gently making a fist in your hair and urging your face to the mirror.
"See how beautiful she looks when she's taking my cock?"
You can't see shit. Your belly is ballooned so far out you can barely handle it. But you look at your face and you see the heavy eyes and parted lips. You see the way you arch into Dieter’s body and how he towers over you and yeah... It's hot.
"Cock drunk," Dieter tells you with a swell of pride. "All sexy and sleepy looking."
His hands come to brace yours on the dresser, his dark eyes fixed on yours in the mirror.
"You see her?" Dieter pants, teeth gritting. "You see her tits bouncing? Feel her sweet pussy taking my cock? She's fucking magnificent. How can you say she’s not the sexiest thing alive?"
The way he talks about your reflection makes you almost jealous until you remember that it's you he's talking about.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," Dieter babbles as he nears his orgasm. “Never been more turned on in my fucking life.”
And he means it. He means every fucking word. He can’t stop touching you, kissing your shoulder, your cheek, your mouth when you tilt back to face him. You whimper his name when he starts to fuck into you harder and harder.
“Come deep, Dieter,” you grunt. “Fuck me full.”
He does with one final thrust, painting your insides as he cries out your name.
Despite this interlude you still suffer with crisis of confidence at times in the coming weeks. Your back is in constant pain. You waddle when you walk. You've never felt less attractive.
Dieter is obsessed. He can't stop finding reasons to touch you, brushing your lower back when he passes you in the hall.
All pretenses of employer and employee are gone. You’re basically in his bed every night, fucking him whenever you get the chance. Neither of you observe it outright, but it’s there lingering under the surface every time he asks if you’re ready to go to bed. It’s there when you shower together, washing each other’s hair. It’s there when you both murmur good morning and let him kiss you languidly over coffee.
When he catches you napping in the sunshine on his couch he's so taken with you that you wake up to find his curly head between your legs and his mouth bringing you to a gentle orgasm. You keen against his lips, hands going to card through his hair as you come.
You know why he's like this. It's because things are coming rapidly to an end. Once the baby is here this all ends. This ready access to sex, you lounging around his house. He'll have a newborn and you'll have a new life. You won't see him. You'll have your money, you'll be going back to school, and your mom's mortgage is paid off.
Dieter knows how you feel about snuggling and he goes to pull away.
"Don't," you say, arms outstretched, mouth twisted into a pout. Dieter stares at you in surprise, big puppy dog eyes wide. It makes you melt. He wraps himself around you, face nuzzling into your neck. The two of you snuggle there as you flick on the television to a Christmas special.
Just when you think Dieter is becoming a mature and sensible adult you feel him sigh heavily behind you.
“I'm not watching that depressing Christmas movie!" Dieter insists when It’s a Wonderful Life starts up. "I wanna watch the Muppet Christmas Carol!"
He can’t understand why you can’t stop laughing.
One quiet morning with Dieter filming audio reshoots for the Rogue Duchess you sit at the kitchen table, pensive. You stare at the pro and con list you've made sitting in front of you.
Ever since the conversation with your mother you've been second guessing your next steps post birth. Are you just doing it because you think you should be? Are you doing it because that's what you were doing when your dad died? Are you doing it because of misplaced guilt?
Your dad had been so proud of you, telling everyone about your Masters problem and how you were well on your way to a PhD like him.
He talked fondly about having two doctors and a nurse in the house, joking that your home would become like Grey's Anatomy.
Even then you'd felt a bit of the pressure to perform. To pursue a PhD to make him proud. In all your focus and pursuit you'd never really stopped to ask yourself... Is this what you want?
Pros
- honor dad
- get to be called doctor at the end
Cons
- no social life
- have to move to Sacramento for several years
- not guaranteed a job I like when I graduate
- away from mom
- STRESS
- possible burnout
- job market is competitive
- won't necessarily make me happy
You need to add something else. Something that's been in the back of your head screaming for your attention. You raise your pen to the paper, adding your final item to the con list.
- Too far away from Dieter and Bubble.
And then a sentence you write and then immediately erase before crumpling the entire paper up in a ball.
- I'm in love with Dieter.
[8:43am] D: It hasn't even started and I'm bored out of my fucking mind
[8:44am]: Dieter it'll be fun.
[8:44am] D: no it won't. I HATE these fucking marathon interview days
Hours and hours of sitting with Mia and the rest of the crew talking about the upcoming film being released in a few months. He's covered in concealer and powder, his stylist has him in some absurdly patterned shirt that itches and he desperately needs a cigarette.
[8:45am] D: I wanna be at home with you---
He hesitates before deleting that last message. He can't send you messages like that. You're not dating, no matter how much it feels like you are. He feels twitchy now, all out of sorts as he thinks about you home and waiting for him.
He sneaks off to the corner of the hotel, hoping he can get off a few puffs before Diane wrangles him back inside.
He lights his cigarette, puffing away. He scans the space to make sure it's just hotel employees before he brings out his phone, going through his photos. He lands on the one from the other night, you mid laugh as the Jenga tower falls. You look so happy, so at ease.
He’s so ridiculously in love with you.
How can he let you go? How can he go from seeing you every day to you becoming a stranger? You've got one foot out the door at all times and he doesn’t want to hold you back from your dreams.
It was so easy to play house these past few months. To pretend like you were his. He was such a fool.
"Spare one?"
Dieter fumbles the phone, shoving it a hastily back into his jacket pocket. Its Mia dressed in a sleek black number, her makeup and hair perfect. She motions to the cigarette between his long fingers.
"My last one," he says ruefully.
Mia holds out her manicured fingers in his direction. "A quick puff then."
Dieter relents, handing it off to her. She takes a long drag, enjoying the curl of the smoke as the two of them stand shoulder to shoulder in silence. It feels awkward being together alone, the two of them haven't spoken since Prague. Dieter feels the need to fill the silence.
"How's Sam?"
"He's good," Mia nods. "He's not secretly in love with his assistant so it's already much better than my last relationship."
Dieter can't help but let out a small chuckle at that. Mia has been seen all over the tabloids in recent weeks with her hunky new Scottish co-star. Mia looks at Dieter with a small tilt of her head, squinting up at him.
"You tell her yet?"
"Tell who what?"
Mia takes another drag off the cigarette, giving him a leveling look. "You know who and you know what."
Dieter says nothing, watching as Mia holds the cigarette aloft. She gives a dramatic sign when she sees. He's going to make her have to say it.
"Have you told your PA that you're fucking crazy about her," Mia says flatly. "That you want to marry her and have tons of little Bravo's running around."
"I do not."
"Maybe just the one little Bravo then," Mia smiles, handing him his cigarette. He feels her heavy gaze on him and he knows that she deserves answers. He put her through a lot and she has been gracious as hell about it.
He sighs heavily before twisting to face her head-on. "No, I haven't."
"Why not?"
"It’s…complicated."
"What's complicated about love?"
"She told me she doesn't want to be a part of the baby's life."
"Back when she thought you only wanted to be together because you got her pregnant."
"She doesn't want me."
"Dieter I see how she looks at you. The girl is utterly besotted."
"Might want to tell her that," Dieter huffs in forced amusement.
Despite all the time you’ve spent together, you’ve really never made it clear how you feel about Dieter. Yes, you like the sex and you laugh with him. But you’ve never actually made overtures, talked about the future. You think of a future that doesn’t include him or your son.
Mia pauses for a moment, thinking about something. Her eyes scan the vicinity and before Dieter can do anything Mia grips him by the collar and plants a chaste kiss to his lips. Dieter pulls back immediately, his face cloudy.
"What the fuck-"
"You'll thank me," Mia promises.
He goes to say something to her about how uncool that was but a text from you sails in, almost as if fate is giving him the prompt he needs.
[8:58am]: If I wanted to postpone school for a little bit, do you think I could still stay with you? I could pay rent and everything. I think I just want to reconsider some things. Dunno if school is where I want to be right now.
“Fuck yes,” Dieter breathes, re-reading the message several times to make sure he’s not reading it wrong. You want to stay. You want to stay longer with him. He's still staring at your text with a goofy smile on his face when Mia’s voice sounds out beside him.
“Dieter, c'mon! Interviews are starting.”
He shoves his phone into his pocket, his grin bright as he follows Mia back inside the hotel for the marathon of interviews.
You want to stay.
The alert comes through on your phone, the setting still stuck on sending you Dieter Bravo related news items.
You're relaxing on one of the chairs in the backyard, one hand gently rubbing your belly, the other holding your latest crime thriller novel.
When the alert goes off its instinct to shut the book and retrieve the phone from the table beside you. Normal to scan the links that show up.
BRAV-ROWE ROMANCE BACK ON?
You sit up slowly, holding your expansive belly and grunting angrily. You continue reading as you walk inside, pacing around the kitchen.
Bravo, 40, and Rowe, 25, were spotted earlier today stealing kisses between interviews for their upcoming release The Rogue Heiress. What’s setting tongues wagging is that Rowe has also been recently seen getting cozy with Sam Heughen, 43, back in her native England only last week. Was Sam just a distraction from her real feelings for Bravo? Or is this just a cleverly executed publicity stunt for their upcoming film?
You slam your phone down onto the counter, irritation flooding you all over.
What the fuck?
Here you are pining over this guy and he's off kissing his ex?
Even their couple name is adorable. It fits. Your cheeks are flaming red at the realization that you fell for it. You fell for his lines, for his sweet eyes and sweeter mouth. You let yourself get swept up in a romance that isn't even real.
Dieter is an actor. He knows how to fake anything.
"I'm so fucking stupid," you say shaking your head. Bubble gives a gentle kick, drawing your attention back to the present.
“Sorry honey. Mom’s not stupid. Just fucking naive.”
It's dark when Dieter finally makes it home, shrugging of his jacket and toeing off his shoes. He wants to go to bed, to hold you after this long and boring day.
But you're not in bed. You're seated on the couch with the TV off. Your crossword book is beside you but you don't look like you've been working on it. Dieter feels a smile break out over his features at the sight of you in his home.
"Hi baby," he murmurs as he approaches, confused when you slowly turn to face him with a furious look on your face. "What’s wrong?"
“Have anything to tell me?”
“Uh…no?”
He watches you throw your head back and give an obviously false laugh. “No?”
“No.”
“Kiss any old girlfriends lately, Dieter?”
Dieter is stunned. How the hell did you find out about that? "How-"
"It's all over TMZ and now all the other news outlets," you say, teeth clenching. Dieter thinks about the way Mia checked around them before kissing him. You take a seat on the couch, arms crossed over your chest.
"I didn't just go kiss her," Dieter defends, coming to sit next to you. "She kissed me."
"Didn't really seem like you were fighting her on it."
You hold up your phone where the picture of Mia kissing Dieter is blown up. It's clear you've been studying the picture. Mia’s hand is on his collar, Dieter’s hand is on hers, but only so that he could pull it off. But to the outside viewer this looks very intimate.
“It’s not what it looks like.”
“No? Because what it looks like is you kissing your ex girlfriend.”
Dieter takes in the red of your cheeks and the way you’re clenching your jaw and despite everything a little thrill goes through him.
"Why are you so upset?" Dieter purrs.
"I'm not," you insist.
You feel furious and out of sorts and you can't tell him why because you'll sound like a jealous girlfriend which you absolutely aren't.
"You sound upset."
"Well I'm not." You chew at your bottom lip angrily. "It's just rude you know? Sleeping with me and seeing Mia. Does she-"
"I'm not seeing Mia," Dieter interjects.
"I have eyes Dieter," you scoff.
"She gave me a quick peck after we talked about Sam Heughan, her boyfriend, who she is in a committed relationship with."
"Yeah right."
Dieter stops a moment to take in your flushed cheeks, bright eyes and the arms that cross in front of you. You don’t want him to be seeing Mia and that can only mean one thing and that makes Dieter feel warm all over. His arm is on the back of the couch, almost behind your shoulders.
"You're jealous."
"I'm not," you insist, face heating.
"Then why are you acting like this?" He probes, shifting closer to you on the couch. "Tell me the truth."
He’s so close and he smells so good and you just fucking… you just…
"Because you're mine."
It comes spilling out of you like a dam, a rush, a torrent of words that once said cannot be taken back. But for once you don’t want them taken back. You want him to know exactly what you mean, especially as you launch yourself towards him, your arms going around his neck, your stomach plump between the two of you. Dieter is grinning so widely his face might crack as he gazes at you on his lap.
"I'm yours?"
"Yes," you all but growl, pushing him backwards until his broad shoulders hit the seat cushions of the couch and you begin straddling his prone body. His cock is rock hard through his pants, pressing into your core through your panties.
You tug them to the side, not even bothering to take them off. Dieter is already sliding off his pants and boxers, smiling up at you eagerly. He's pulsing between your thighs, hissing with pleasure as you notch him at your soaked entrance.
"Not hers," you grunt, sliding down his length with an aching groan escaping both of you. "No one else's. Just mine. You understand me, Bravo?"
You're staking your claim and Dieter is turned on out of his mind. You've never been possessive over him before, never been so commanding. Never been so clear in your desire for him.
"Yes!"
He wishes he could hold you in his arms, but being laid out flat on his couch while you ride him isn't exactly torture. Your pussy milks his cock, a vice -like grip around his thick length.
"I'm yours," Dieter repeats, thrusting up into your wet heat. "Just yours, baby."
"You only fuck me," you command, starting to bounce up and down in his lap the best you can with your swollen belly. His expression is pure delight, his wide palm on your hips.
"Yes."
"Only I make you c-come," you try to sound authoritative but your hips are rolling over his and he feels so good. You're barrelling towards an orgasm with every husky assurance from him.
"Only you," Dieter assures you, hands tightening around your gyrating hips. "And I only wanna make you come, baby. Only want you in my bed. Only you."
He's rambling and your eyes are cheating to the back of your head. You crest so fast, hands flying to the back of the couch so you can steady yourself. His hands slide up under your shirt and go to your breasts, pinching your pebbled nipples as you keen.
"C'mon baby," Dieter encourages as he watches your head tilt back. "Take what's yours."
"Mine," you pant as you start to come, head lolling forward. Your body starts to give small little twitches as you groan. "Mine, mine, mine."
"Yours," Dieter breathes, gazing up at you. "Only yours."
He feels you come, soaking his cock with your release. He groans at the sight of your fucked out expression, your hips still undulating.
"Now you," you command in a soft mewl. "Come for me, Dieter. Give my what's mine."
Your hands go to brace yourself on his chest, your hips lifting only to slide harshly back down, taking him as deep as possible. He feels a pleasurable stripe go up his spine.
"It's all yours," he offers before his own pleasure overtakes him at the sight of your heavy-lidded expression. He comes deep, deeper than he ever has and he does so whimpering your name.
You're both panting and you groan slightly as you pull yourself off of him, sitting back against the couch. Dieter rests there a few moments, his softened cock resting against his belly. He's smiling up at the ceiling like a madman.
Then he's stripping off all his clothes and standing before urging you to do the same.
"I'm fucking you in the shower," Dieter tells you as he pulls your t-shirt up over your head. "I want you to give me another one."
But you don't just give just him another one because it doesn't end in the shower. Or on the kitchen counter after a midnight snack. But in his bed where he urges you to the end of the bed and fucks you slowly standing next to the mattress, your thighs spread beautifully for him as his cock lazily saws in and out of you.
His hands grip your thighs tightly, urging you to bounce against his hips. Your bodies move together, the pleasure increasing.
“So good,” you croon, your forehead dotted with sweat. “You feel so perfect, Dieter.”
You’re babbling, high on the pleasure of his cock and his nearness. Dieter revels in it, the way you’re unabashedly giving him praise, the way you don’t stop him or shy away from him whispering sweet nothings into your neck.
“And I’m all yours,” he promises. You almost think you can read love in his eyes as they gaze down at you.
“I’m all yours,” you tell him back without thought.
His thrusts increase, his hands holding you tightly, fingers splayed over your clit. He teases and rubs until you’re on the brink of another orgasm and you finally come in tandem, both of you trembling.
“That’s my girl,” he groans, kissing behind your ear as you shiver.
You don’t tell him you’re not his girl because right now you feel like you could be.
You wake up the next morning in Dieter’s bed with one of his legs wedged in between yours, his arm draped over your middle and his forehead against your neck. It feels right and it feels perfect and as your sleep clears…A mixture of shame and disbelief overtakes your body.
What the fuck was that last night?
You'd been almost mad with rage at the sight of that TMZ pic. And when he'd come onto the couch you'd just felt this strange possessiveness overtake you.
Just want you in my bed. Only you.
Those words were so nice to hear. So gratifying. And you believed him about Mia and the photo. It had been all too easy to move past it, to allow him to lick into your mouth as he fucked you. You glance over your shoulder to see him sleeping, his hair falling into his closed eyes.
Mine.
No. Not mine.
He's not yours. He can't be.
He's Dieter Bravo and you're you. Thinking that somehow you could be together is a delusion. Dieter just hates being alone. And he knows that being a father is a huge deal. He knows that it's all going to rest on his shoulders and he's looking for a lifeline as your due date grows rapidly closer.
He doesn't actually have feelings for you.
It's just that Mia might be out of the picture and he's clinging to whatever is in the vicinity - today it happens to be you. Tomorrow it'll be whatever model he's paired with at the next photo shoot.
You've known him long enough to know his moods and his ever changing interests. In a couple of months when the baby is here and you're in Sacramento he'll probably have forgotten your name.
The thought hurts if you linger on it. He's just clinging to a lifeline and you can't be around when he does inevitably move onto the next woman because it'll break your heart.
You need to get the apartment now. You need to find out where you're going to be staying next semester. You need to be planning your life post birth.
He didn’t even write back to your text yesterday even though it said he’d read it. The one asking if you could stay longer, that you were considering postponing school. And you know why – because this wasn’t the plan. Because Dieter’s interest is waning and you know it.
You pull yourself from the bed, out of Dieter’s warm arms and you try your best not to look back at his still sleeping form as you tiptoe out of the room.
You return sometime in the afternoon to Dieter storming around the kitchen, looking frantic. He barrels towards you, tugging your hands that you quickly slide out of his grip.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?"
“I had it on silent.”
"Where were you?"
"I was at the library," you say as if it were the most obvious answer. Dieter looks like he’s been fisting his hands through his hair all day.
"You're not supposed-"
"I know I’m not supposed to leave, but I wore sunglasses and no one recognized me." You put your purse down on the ground. "I just needed somewhere quiet to organize my thoughts. I needed to research apartments without distractions."
"Apartments," Dieter repeats slowly.
"Yeah, for next semester," You say breezily as you push past him and make your way into the kitchen. He follows hot on your heels like a desperate puppy all big eyes and furrowed brows.
"Next semester? I thought you were thinking of postponing?"
He watches you glance around in the fridge before pulling out a bowl of blueberries that Petra has left for you.
"No point," you say, popping one in your mouth. "I decided I need to get focused and start as soon as possible. That reminds me though; I don't think I can really stay long after the baby is born. I'll want to get to Sacramento as soon as possible."
Dieter looks as if you've punched him. He's gone pale, his large eyes luminous. He's sagging against the counter as if his own body can't support him anymore.
"What? Why?"
"I told you, I need to focus," you tell him, popping the blueberries back into the fridge. "And I know that I don't get paid until the Bubble is born but I'm wondering if I can get half now? I need to put a down payment on an apartment out there."
"You're buying an apartment in Sacramento?"
"Of course," you say, taking a deep breath. "I'll be in school for a few years; the rest of my Masters then the PhD, then my residency out there. Makes sense."
"But ... You weren’t even sure about it," Dieter says weakly.
"That was before I really thought about it," You say, shrugging. "I can't sit around my boss's house all day organizing his next manicure and making sure his latest fuck buddies sign NDA's."
Dieter straightens immediately, his jaw clenching.
Too far.
As soon as you say it you wish you could take it back. It's an ugly, unfair thing to say and you both know it. But you feel exposed, like a raw nerve.
Dieter feels everything inside him twisting hideously. He was so fucking deluded to think you'd stay, to think you'd fallen for him the same way he has for you. He wants to scream at his idiocy.
How are you just so okay with this? How can you walk away like the last several months have meant nothing?
Dieter can only stare at you, his eyes going from wide to narrowed. His hand curls into a loose fist at his side, the other still braced on the counter.
“There's a contract," Dieter all but growls. "You get your money once the baby is born."
"I know,” you say quickly. “It's just that the tuition is due this month to hold my spot for next semester."
"That's not my problem."
You take a step back, brows knitted. You weren’t expecting that.
“But-“
"You signed a contract stipulating that you wouldn't get the money until the baby is born," Dieter croaks. "So there's your answer."
He turns from you, heading down the hallway to his art studio. You follow close behind, waddling quickly to keep up.
"Dieter I can't afford the place without that money."
"Read the contract," he snaps. "You signed it."
He quickly moves into the studio, slamming the door behind him.
He hears you on the other side of the door, breathing heavily. He’s worried you’re crying.
Finally he hears you shuffle away and he moves to the window, sitting in the chair he reserved for you when you return home with your son. He imagined painting both of you, the light bathing you both in a dreamy glow.
Dieter is devastated, his head resting heavily in his hands as he fights back the urge to sob.
What the fuck happened? One minute you were insisting he was yours, your bodies working together beautifully. The next second you're telling him you're halfway out the door.
You don’t want to be a mother. You never did. You always made that perfectly clear. He was just too besotted to understand. He looks around his art room, feeling a fury building within him. What the fuck has this all been for? Why the fuck is he so fucking stupid? Why did he have to go and fall in love with you?
He needs drugs. He needs alcohol. He needs something to take this stabbing pain away. And just as his trembling hand goes to his phone to call up Corey Brigham he glances up at the painting he's been currently working on.
It's an oil painting image from a dream he had recently. One where he stands in the ocean up to his knees, the wind gentle and the day mild. Dieter is holding you back against him, his head over your shoulder, both of you gazing down at the tiny infant in your arms.
And there's his son, eyes closed, a soft smile on his face. The image of what Dieter things he’ll look like.
My son.
The cell phone is pushed back into his pocket. He's not living just for himself anymore. He's got a son he will put before himself in all ways. His son will not grow up with an absent father like Dieter did.
All of a sudden his studio door bursts open. You look harried as you stride in, fixing him with a glare. He knows you want to tell him off and he wishes you didn't look so beautiful when you’re angry.
"You're not supposed to be in here," Dieter insists, feeling a stab of anxiety go through him as you walk towards him. He leaps up from the chair, almost tripping over himself in his desire to usher you out of the room.
“We were in the middle of a conversation,” you snap. “You can’t just-“
Your cutting remarks die before they can be completely formed because as you glance around the room your eyes widen in shock.
Dieter’s art room has always been a mix of canvas, paint spills, old coffee cups and grotesque sculptures. But right now all of the painted canvases are positioned around the room, sketches lining the drafting table under the window.
And they are all of you.
Ones of you with your belly swollen, sleeping on the couch. Others of you cross legged at the table hunched over your laptop. There's one of you with your face serene as you lay the bathtub, that night Dieter and you talked for hours. Snapshots of time, your belly at different stages.
"Are these..." You go over to a stack of sketches. “Are these all me?”
Dieter is silent, his eyes drifting to your face when you take in the portrait he did of the three of you. Your hand goes to your belly instinctively as you take in the image.
“I always imagined he’d look like that,” you say with a soft little huff.
Your eyes go to the drafting table, sketches in charcoal sticking out to you. Some are dated as far back as Ireland, some even before that. Your fingers linger on one in particular of you chewing your bottom lip in thought, a pencil raised between your fingers. You glance at the date.
“This was before I was pregnant.” You trail off, gaze moving back to his face. "How long have you been sketching me?"
Dieter shrugs and for the first time since you've known him he looks truly embarrassed.
"A while."
You move slowly towards him. "Why?"
He sighs, only steps away from you now.
"Isn't it obvious?"
You swallow, feeling your heart pound a devastating rhythm. No, this can’t be real. He can’t be suggesting what you think he is. And yet as he stands there, dark eyes wet you can’t help but wish for it to be real.
“I'm crazy about you,” Dieter confesses.
No, not confesses. That would suggest he wanted to keep it hidden, when it’s anything but.
“I just want to be with you all the time. I want to share everything with you. My life, my home, my everything. I want you here in this house with our son. I want to support you going back to school. I want to make you happy in any way I can but I want you to do it as mine.”
You want to say something, to say anything to this grand romantic speech, but your throat has tightened and your mouth gone dry. All you can do is stand there, staring at him like a pregnant idiot.
“And I know that’s selfish to say and I know it’s useless because you don’t love me back but I-I just needed you to know before you left,” Dieter continues, tears wetting the side of his cheek.
“You don’t need to love me back. Our son is a piece of you and if that’s all I can have of your love, that’s enough for me. He’s more than enough. I just. . . I needed you to know the truth, all of it. I fell for you way before you got pregnant, but after this time together I just, I’m...I love you.”
And now his tears are brushed away by the back of his hand and he looks as if he’s going to turn away from you, overcome with everything that he’s just admitted.
You can barely see through the tears in your eyes. All the feelings that have been swirling within you compel you to pitch forward, your hands outstretched, his name on your lips.
You’re about to cross the room, desperate for his touch when a stab of pain goes through you sharply, causing you to almost come to your knees. You begin doubling over with a cry as Dieter runs to close the distance between you, his hand immediately on your back.
“What is it, baby?”
Dieter is confused when he sees an overwhelming amount of clear liquid running down your legs. Your eyes are round, wide and terrified when you look up to him.
"Dieter, I think I'm going into labor."
taglist: @caramilena @lovely-vamp-princess @annieispunk @lu62 @getitoutofmymindwrites @noisynightmarepoetry @lizzie-cakes @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @missladym1981 @tammythr @swankyorange @jupiter-soups @dontknow446 @fluffygoffpanda @doblasftcisco @sunnysinbar @dinomecanico @eff4freddie @fancypants1215 @moel-jiller @picketniffler @khxna @spookyxsam @fancypants1215
@getitoutofmymindwrites @manuymesut @whirlwindrider29 @mostardentlypascal @lu62 @missladym1981 @heareball @sptbear @drewharrisonwriter @lizzie-cakes @daddy-dins-girl @moel-jiller @tammythr @guelyury @lilyevanstan1325 @lu62 @staywildflowahchild @whirlwindrider29 @pedropascalsbbg @cherrycosmos392
#dieter bravo fic#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo#dieter x reader#dieter bravo x you#dieter bravo fanfic#pedro pascal characters
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jack 👉👈 how do you picture their second kiss? does buck initiate it? also do you have any general lil headcanons you feel like sharing? 👉👈💞
for u, my little meerkat?? anything.
so. their second kiss. their second kiss. hmmmm. i think their second kiss is a lot more hesitant than their first kiss, like. they actually know what they are to each other now. like, their first kiss, i think, kind of came as a surprise to both of them, but this one? this one means something. they're both jumping in head-first with this kiss. so. they're hesitant, not because they're afraid but because they're exploring what it means to be this close, to feel this connected to each other. their bodies are pressed together, they're dancing (swaying) to the tune of whatever's spilling through the hospital speakers (maddie and chimney are going to get married in hospital, mark my words) and. like. neither of them smell the greatest because *gestures wildly at the bachelor party* and whatever goes on afterwards, so they haven't had time to shower. but. they're close. this is their moment. no one that they loved or cared about died and life is kind of very fucking beautiful right now.
so. their noses are brushing. their breaths are caught in their throats. and, this close, buck can see every line in tommy's face and tommy can see every one of buck's acne scars and they both think that the other has never looked so fucking perfect, so fucking beautiful as they do right now. and when their mouths meet, neither of them are surprised by how much it feels like coming home. and it shouldn't, right, like. after two dates, one ending in complete disaster, being together like this, kissing like this shouldn't feel so safe, so warm, so comforting. but it does. and they're both in SO much deeper than they ever could have imagined. none of this has gone the way either of them thought it would when chim called tommy out of the blue. but. they're here now. they're here now and everything is so good. so good that they can't imagine ever wanting to be anywhere else than right with each other and one day, after they get married, they won't have to
+ bonus headcanon just for u: lately i've been feeling particularly soft about clothes sharing and so, like, one day tommy gets hurt on the job. buck sits vigil by his bedside, of course, and. every time one of his family sees him, he's in one of tommy's jackets. or if he's not wearing one of his jackets, he's wearing one of his pairs of sweatpants, or one of his pairs of jeans, or something. sometimes the whole damn outfit is tommy's from the shirt down to the boots (cos they're roughly the same size) and. it's a little tragic. you know? it's a little tragic and a lot sad because the pants are always a little too long and the jackets are always a little too big and the clothes so clearly do not belong to him. but no one says anything. i mean, how could they? neither tommy nor buck has said anything to suggest as much, but everyone sees them when they're together. everyone sees the way they touch each other, the way they kiss, the way they interact, and they're all pretty damn sure that tommy and buck are the loves of each other's lives. so when maddie comes to sit beside him and she takes his hand in hers and leans her head on his shoulder, she doesn't make a comment about how the sleeves of tommy's jacket are pulled over buck's hands so he can rest his chin on his fist and smell the lingering scent of detergent and cologne and tommy. and like. yes it's a little sad but i just love the idea of buck finding comfort in the way his boyfriend smells and the way his clothes fit even when he's not "around."
and of course when tommy wakes up, buck offhandedly mentions that he was practically living in his clothes because he truly has no idea how deeply that knowledge just... rocks tommy to the core because, like. he's never been loved so... desperately, so earnestly before. but buck, evan, loves him like that. so after his near-death experience, he goes out and buys a shit-load of jackets and hoodies and pants and whatever and wears the hell out of them. he makes sure his clothes are always covered in his signature cologne, makes sure he "accidentally" leaves a bunch of his clothes at buck's loft just in case and. it's not much. you know? and it kind of feels like jinxing something because tommy intends to love this man for the rest of his life and he intends to live for a long time. but. it's something. he loves him and he wants evan to have a piece of him always. even if he doesn't have him. anyways yeah i'll fucking cry about it.
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sunshine — lee seokmin | 764 words | fluff
bro is literal sunshine, i had to. i don't know how this came to me but i'm so glad it did. and can we ignore the fact that you could see it only across america?
gender neutral reader. warnings: none.
dokyeom knows he’s being a bit obnoxious.
okay, maybe not just a bit. very obnoxious.
but is it his fault that he’s upset about missing the solar eclipse that he’d wanted to see with you?
the pictures you’ve sent him aren’t enough. he kept staring at all eleven of them, showing him every angle you managed to get. even nasa had been roped into your shenanigans to try to make him feel a little less sad about missing out, not to mention the livestream you’d held for two seconds, cutting it off even before he got a chance to say hi.
it goes without saying that he can’t help but feel a bit guilty.
he knows it’s a bit too much when the smile he gives you isn’t as cheerful as yours. he knows its over the top when he resists your attempts to cuddle with him. in the end, your puppy eyes break him enough to let you hold him.
“it’s just so unfair,” he huffs, pressing his face into your shoulder. he ignores the little giggle you give out, running your fingers through his hair. this is a matter of utmost importance and he should be allowed to sulk, dammit.
“i’m not saying it’s not, kyeom.”
“but you’re laughing at me! i’m sad i missed seeing the eclipse with you and you’re laughing at me.”
“hey, i’m not laughing. didn’t i try calling you on video so you wouldn’t miss out? and didn’t i send pictures later?”
“that’s…not the point.”
“then what is?”
dokyeom sighs. “i wanted to see it with you. it wasn’t about the eclipse. we always watch the sun rise and set whenever we’re together. of course i wanted to watch this one with you, too.”
“oh,” is all you say.
dokyeom just pulls away from you and shifts so that his head rests in your lap.
“hey,” you say, thumb tracing his cheekbone. soft. “are you really that upset because you didn’t get to watch an eclipse?”
“it wasn’t just an eclipse, though,” he says, looking up at you. you look so good, even upside down. “it was the eclipse. and i missed it. and you.”
“but you were touring, baby.”
dokyeom knows you’re right, but he’s not in the mood to listen to logic right now. so he behaves like the very mature adult he is and hides his face in your stomach, unwilling to look up at you. he doesn’t move even when he can feel your silent laughs shake your body. he feels you stretch to your side for something and very reluctantly looks up at you when you tap his shoulder.
“do me a favour?”
“anything,” he says immediately.
“take a photo with me?”
there’s already maybe a couple thousand photos of the two of you together in each of your phones, and dokyeom figures it wouldn’t hurt to add a few more. it never does.
but he’s also confused by the sudden change in topic. “what…”
“trust me.”
that he does. he shuts up and arranges himself so he’s lying a bit more comfortably on you, his super long arms helping him take the best picture he can for you. oh, well. pictures. multiple.
he’s become a bit tired of posing for selfies by himself, so it feels good to have your face in the frame again. he keeps capturing you more than himself till you ask him to stop, selecting what he deems are your favourites before you send them to him.
“see this?” you ask, showing him one of the photos. you’re accidentally out of the frame, and he’s captured himself laughing the way he does when he’s with you, eyes squeezed shut with the widest grin on his lips. do you know how happy you make him?
“…yeah?”
“that’s my sun you’re seeing. you’re lucky you can see yourself in a mirror every single day, you know?”
dokyeom swears his brain blanks. shirt circuits to the worst degree possible. “did you just—”
“—steal your job of using pick-up lines? maybe?”
suddenly, it doesn’t really matter that much anymore. sure, he’s a bit bummed he didn’t get to see it in person, and he didn’t get to see it with you, but he has you. forever. like the sun. burning bright, looking after him.
“also,” you say, looking very proud of yourself, “the next one’s in 2044. let’s make sure we don’t miss that one, okay?”
that’s…twenty years in the future.
when dokyeom clings to you a little more while you sleep that night, he thinks you already know the reason why.
taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu
#his smile can cure me. of what i don't know but it can cure me#lee seokmin#lee seokmin fluff#dokyeom fluff#dokyeom#fluff#dk#dk fluff#seventeen#seventeen fluff#svt#svt fluff#waldau writes#inpsired by those lebron sunshine reels? you'll never know
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ᯓ★⋆˚𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜⋆｡˚ ⁀➷
(Peter Maximoff x fem!reader)
tags: sfw and nsfw.
warnings: none.
character count: 7k.
this was a request!
ᯓ★⋆𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆｡⁀➷
He LOVES playing games with you.
Peter was often bored, being locked in his mother’s basement led to doing the same things over and over again. This is why he loved playing games with you, no matter if they were board games or card ones, he was utterly fond of the idea of games ending in many different ways and sometimes taking different turns, never knowing if a game could last minutes or hours. He would throw game nights with candies and junk food. He really liked playing Cluedo, especially roleplaying the whole thing, he would get SO into the character, many times taking it personally when he was accused of being the murderer, always doing accents and creating a whole backstory (even if not needed). He believed it was “funnier” this way…but really, he was just a dork by nature. He enjoyed Monopoly too, although getting into the character in this game would often lead to him getting SO mad when things started to go bad for him. He claimed he was “the best gamer of all times” but in reality was actually pretty bad, especially with strategy games since he tended to act impulsively without logic. Many times you had to let him win to avoid cocky tantrums and just getting his ego hurt.
He is constantly spoiling you with gifts.
His main goal in life was owning the "Twinkie" company being the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. So whatever you desired, he gave you.
“Look how cute this is Pet-” You started while pointing at the picture of what you wanted, and before you knew it, Peter left your room at the highest of speeds just to come back in the blink of an eye with the thing you were just talking about in his hands.
“Gotcha.” He winked with a cute smirk.
“Peter! You didn’t have to. You probably spent so much for this…” You said, feeling guilty.
“Who said I paid for it?”
He takes you anywhere you want.
You mentioned wanting to go to the beach? He took you there in no time, not even letting you put your swimsuit on.
You dreamed of going to Paris? Sweep. Two seconds and you were taking a picture under the Tour Eiffel while he was holding a baguette and had a fake mustache on.
In the little time you started dating him, you already visited more places than you did in your entire life, and your bedroom was full of polaroids of you two around the world. This counts for concerts and other things too. He’s basically a free VIP pass.
He always matches your mood.
If you wanted to go to the cinema and watch a movie, he would sneak you two in the theater, stealing popcorn and all types of soda.
If you wanted to party hard and just forget about everything for a night, he would throw the BIGGEST party in the x-men’s mansion, just for you.
If you wanted to stay home and relax, he would grab a comfy blanket and a few snacks, cuddling up against you. Either spooning you or being spooned.
He hypes you up no matter what, he’s your biggest fan.
You were out shopping with Peter, so you took the chance to try some dresses on. You were in the changing room, looking at your body in the mirror. Many thoughts were flowing in your head, you didn’t know if you liked or hated it. Peter slightly peeked from the curtain.
“Babe are ya don- HOLY SHIT!” His eyes widened at the sight of you.
“Do you like it?” You asked while still looking in the mirror.
“Like it? Ya asking me if I- if I like it?! Are ya out of yer mind?! I dont like it! I love it!” He opened wide the whole curtain.
“Mh…I don’t know if this really fits m-” You were cut off by Peter suddenly grabbing your shoulders.
“Fits you?! FITS YA?! Babe.Ya need to get this right now. It was made for you- Holy shit! It looks like it was tailored to you!” He grinned widely.
“i don’t kno-Peter!” You exclaimed as he picked you up in his arms.
“YER STUNNING. Gorgeous! Breathtaking! Damn! Yer really my girl? I’m the luckiest bastard in the world!” He carried you in his arms out of the changing room.
“SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! HEY YOU! YES! SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! I’M THE LUCKIEST BASTARD IN THE WORLD! WHOOOOO!” He shouted excitedly to the whole store while you covered your burning cheeks and begged him to stop.
He likes watching you put on your makeup, occasionally attempting to put it on you, too.
His tongue poked out of his mouth as he tried to blend the foundation on your skin.
“Why’s this taking so long?!” He huffed.
“Peter, that’s an eyeshadow brush.”
“Oh.”
ᯓ★⋆˚𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆｡˚ ⁀➷
He’s horny 24/7.
Because of his speedster genes everything his body did was faster than normal. It was sooo easy to get him hard. You could’ve been either provoking him or doing nothing.
You were laying on the bed, your boyfriend spooning you from behind. You pressed your back against him, earning a groan from him. Thinking you accidentally hurt him, you turned to face him, just to find a visible grown bulge in his pants.
“I barely touched you…” You teased.
“S’the speedster genes…” He whined.
He’s such a switch.
You were sitting between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. His fingers slipping in and out of your entrance with unholy sounds.
“Mh…Just like that, babe…takin’ it so well…” He purred in your ear, causing loud moans to slip out of you. He kept speeding his fingers more and more, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Not wanting to finish alone, you suddenly changed positions, straddling him and stroking his length from his pants.
“A-ah…please babe…” He was already a subby mess under you, whining and begging you for more.
He’s open to all types of sex with you.
Fast? His name is quickie for a reason, his body will be blurred by how fast he will be.
Slow? Mhh…It will be torture for him but, sure, anything to pleasure you.
Loving? He could be hugging you from behind, gently thrusting in you and whispering sweet words and moans in your ear.
Rough? Absolutely. He’ll have you screaming his name as loud as possible. Oh, and prepare for a loooong night, the speedster genes help a lot with his sex drive.
No toys!
One thing he will never accept is you using sex toys. Why on earth would you use a miserable piece of plastic to please yourself when you have him?
He can be a vibrator, a dildo…everything! And a good one too. Whenever you need to feel good, just give him a call! He will drop everything just to have fun with you. Don’t tell Professor X that.
Quickies in public are more common than you think.
With him being always horny, he often found himself staring at you for longer than usual, which sent heat waves straight to his core, even in public.
“Babe…” He started with whispering your name in your ear, his body pressing against yours from behind.
“I need you…” He whined, subtly rubbing his hard-on against your ass. You questioned him, reminding him that you were in public.
He quickly brought you inside a public bathroom. His hands desperately grabbing your body.
“Please…I’ll be quick…” He groaned against your neck, sucking the skin gently. As soon as you agreed, you found yourself pressed up against a wall and his clothes immediately coming off.
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @marchsfreakshow @dangeroustaintedflawed @yandereunsolved @newwavesylviaplath @happy74827 @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind
a/n: hiiii!!! my first headcanonssss...tried to put more dorky canon peter. hope you like them!!🩶🩶
all rights reserved!!
#peter maximoff#peter maximoff x reader#x men#x men apocalypse#quicksilver#evan peters#american horror story#tate langdon#ahs fandom#ahs murder house#kyle spencer#violet harmon#james patrick march#kai anderson#taissa farmiga#ahs hotel#ahs asylum#ahs coven
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25
i think of school shooters the same way that id think of a spoiled child being told "no" to having their third serving of ice cream for the day it's like they figure out that life isn't fair (which literally everyone else figured out at birth + mental illnesses) in spite of their many privileges and then they fucking lose it
and as much as i think back to eric harris and how i feel bad for him on occasion, for him and dylan to grasp at straws for reasons to hate others (which is not to undermine the bullying and torment they received) is insane to me (like him getting pissed about girls not calling him back or dylan slapping his coworker because she told him off about something).
all of this and their childishness in spite of the fact that they were literally planning a massive terrorist attack (which isn't so childish) is essentially prominent in how they mention that the shooting is their fault entirely. did they just think that bbecause you say something that it automatically becomes true? i mean, e&d were going to kill themselves and it ain't possible to bring a dead person to court, so of course they'd arrest mark manes and philip duran and bring robyn to court
i just don't think eric and dylan really understood the consequences of their actions because they were so caught up in this retarded escapist fantasy where they were the heroes in tarantino films (and teenagers). i think the concept of this just makes me sad in general, since the way they behaved during and leading up to the shooting was an obvious way for them to feel powerful and in control, which had been stripped from them by that very school.
i also don't mean to undermine the horrid environment at columbine and the obvious favoritism that plagued the student body and staff. harris and klebold were incredibly mentally ill, which when is combined with a toxic environment in which you spend your developmental years and a mutually hate-filled friendship, results in tragedy.
it also hurts my heart to read anecdotes about the victims, eric and dylan included, from those who loved them. hearing about how cassie bernall struggled with suicidality, thoughts of killing her parents, and briefly experimenting with the goth subculture made me wonder if eric or dylan ever considered that others felt the same pain and troubles that they did. hearing about how devon adams had to decide on which friend's funeral to attend, one murdering the other and many more, reading about an interaction brooks had with rachel while they were smoking wherein they discussed their religious affiliations respectfully, learning about how daniel mauser would attend anti-gun protests, devon sharing how dylan saved one of rachels interpretive dances by fixing the tape, etc make me think of how intertwined littleton is (especially columbine kids) and the domino effect that it's had on the world.
so many shooters have cited e&d as inspirations, people have replicated wrath and natural selection shirts, written fics about them, plays, films, etcetera. there's online communities dedicated to colimbine, sometimes as part of a larger true crime community, where people discuss and learn about it. i myself began research approx. 2 years ago and have since developed a special interest regarding columbine. deaths, other than ones because of copycat shooters/killers such as sol pais are linked to columbine. it's had such an imnense effect on the world that cannot be understated solely because of its magnitude.
columbine was so senseless and i hate that 14 children and a beloved teacher died so that e&d could "even the score." i hope, in their final moments, that eric and dylan felt ashamed and embarrassed of what they did, the world, music, movies, their hobbies and interests they discarded, the people they left behind who've been left to pcik up the pieces of their destruction
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sign of the times
author’s note: this is a more serious themed request. as someone who definitely doesn’t have the most desirable body and is struggling right now this request was a very sweet one, it was my pleasure to write it.
synopsis: when you feel insecure seungkwan is there to show you how much he loves all of you.
word count: 1.0k | genre: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort | pairing: seungkwan x gn! reader | warnings: heavy topics mentioned, body image issues, insecure reader, mental health mentions
you never considered yourself to be the most stunning of them all, the star of the room, the shining diamond. you knew everyone had their flaws, of course they had, however the human heart doesn’t always know everything your brain wants it to believe. self love is a very fragile thing, and can be broken just as easily by a feather as if it weighed tonnes like a block of bricks.
when seungkwan entered your bathroom the first thing he noticed was the way you quickly looked away from your form in the mirror, a sense something he never expected to see shine in your eyes…disgust? you pulled your shirt down subtly, and brushed your hands delicately under your eyes in a quick motion before turning to him. the smile he loved dearly was present on your face, but he knew better; it was the shadow of its own twin, the real one. you got very familiar with shadows recently, the cracks of sunlight disappearing slowly but surely, undetected to the naked eye. you were going through a rough time in your life, the stress taking a toll on you. just by this one moment of being caught red handed he saw through it all; you didn’t know how he saw the single teardrop proving being in pain dropping from the corner of your eye, sitting below your pretty lashes stubbornly. how his eyes drifted to the wavering of your hand above the soft material of the clothes covering your precious being, the other grabbing it angrily, holding onto the fabric for dear life as it was your saving grace from an unknown threat. he slowly raised his gaze, boring into the orbs of your own, searching for an answer he had not received thus far.
“hi.” you whispered in a gentle tone, the love for him never leaving from your irises which always smiled at his every day and every night. “hi.” he replied back; one step forward, two steps forward. “my love.” he kissed your cheeks; one cheek, the other cheek. his breath was warm and tender, felt like home. the sigh escaping his lips made you realise: he was your home. and being home provides endless comfort when needed. “i can’t find love towards myself anymore, seungkwan.” you smiled again, this time sadness seeping through the line between your lips. he smiled back at you, mirroring your face. “i know.”
he was silent throughout the moments when the tears fell, when the hands once dangling on your sides searched for support by connecting around his waist, head taking a rest on his being; trying to find solance in home. “you are okay. we have been here before.” it was like breathing to him; loving you, taking care of you, making sure you were protected, well. it was light for him like a feather, the weight of your burdens, your concerns. “just to stop you from crying, i would take it all. take it all if i could.” his heart burned and twisted with sorrow, his everything was in pain. you felt his big hands give you a squeeze. “i am here, i am listening sweetheart.” so you talked. and talked. and talked. “i am becoming the shadow of my true self. stretch marks, eye bags, cellulite, sadness.” his most hated confession to hear, to get information about. how lowly you thought of yourself sometimes made him itch to solve the issue, to love you so much more he already has, to want to show you more how much he treasures you.
“i have a question for you, my love. do indentical snowflakes exist?” you looked at him confused. “of course not, every one is different, it is common knowledge. but why would you ask me this all of a sudden?” his grin made you laugh, even though you didn’t know the reason behind it, just seeing him made you happier. “exactly because you said what i wanted to tell you yourself. that being unique and different applies to every human being. and snowflakes change after being formed, just like humans do after being born. sometimes one bit melts off, then another one finds it and they get attached in a new shape, molding the flake throughout its whole journey to the ground. they are never perfect, always changing. you and me, we too always change, sometimes we are at the top, nearly what we perceive as perfect, then fall apart a bit, just to be rebuilt again. what you’re going through, mentally or physically doesn’t mean you are not yourself. and certainly doesn’t give a reason for you to feel insecure in front of me, ever. i love you for you, and i swore i would love you always. so please, don’t hide your uncertainties and pain anymore?” he shyly pleaded, tears visible in his eyes. he himself didn’t expect to get this emotional, but seeing, feeling the fear, the sadness you locked in your heart made him angry. angry at your surroundings for making you stressed, for making you overwork yourself to the point where you didn’t even recognise yourself anymore. angry at the world for making you feel like you had to be…ashamed? why would you be? just because your body changed? what does that have to do with one’s heart and true soul? he didn’t know. your sobs never stopped; they were like a desperate cry out for him, and he wished he could heal you faster than time, however he knew this was gonna be a long journey.
he kissed the top of your head, swaying from side to side by the bathroom sink, letting you grab him tightly, taking the place of the fabric of your shirt. “you don’t have to say anything right now. let’s stay like this for a little while.” he felt you nod against him, quietly hiccuping while trying to process his words, trying to find the truth in them; trying to accept them, accept yourself again.
the next time he spoke he didn’t know how or when would his words come true, but he knew he was right. “we’ll be alright my love. you will be alright.”
#wonijinjin#caratsland#seventeen imagines#svt imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt scenarios#seventeen drabbles#seventeen#svt drabbles#seungkwan x reader#seungkwan x y/n#seventeen seungkwan#svt boo seungkwan#svt seungkwan#seungkwan x you#seventeen boo seungkwan#seungkwan fluff#seungkwan
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• Like A Volcano | Part Six | • SMUT MDNI
Han Jisung Mini Series
© itshannjisung, 2024
♡ itshannjisungs masterlist ♡
Series Masterlist
Chapter Genre: Crack💥 Angst⚡️Fluff 💕Suggestive Themes 💋
-Bestfriends to Lovers Trope-
Summary: being best friends with the kings of kpop always has its ups and downs, and when you're offered a spot on the next European-American book tour to promote the publishing of your new book, there's one kpop king in particular who just doesn't want you to go.
Pairing: Idol!Han Jisung x Female Reader x Bestfriend Skz
** Includes two of my own original female characters, both whom are romantically involved with two of the members. Chan x Jo / Minho x Ash **
Warnings: Swearing. brief vulnerability over the trauma yn went through. good guy Jisung (srsly why can't all men be this incredible?). tooth-rotting fluff throughout but mostly towards the end. the boys do not use honorifics. reader is called jagiya & princess SMUT; making out. dry-humping/grinding. breast/nipple play. dirty-ish talk. soft!dom Han. brief dom/sub reader. praise kink. slight doting. fingering. anal play (f rec). edging. unprotected sex (dont do this). p in v sex. reader is on the pill, though it is not mentioned. failed pull out method/cumming inside. multiple positions. hair pulling (m rec). crying during sex. biting. overstimulation (m and f rec). flaccid-fucking. multiple orgasms.
I think that's everything. lmk if I missed something!
Word Count: 11k (lol whoops)
Screenshot Count: 8
**this chapter is edited and revised**
Enjoy!
The second you stepped foot back inside of your apartment with Jisung by your side, a wave of anxiety stabbed you abruptly in the gut. Not because of what was yet to come once the two of you eventually reached the bedroom, but because that same helpless feeling you felt earlier in the night had returned, hitting you at full force despite having Jisung glued to your side.
Your eyes darted around the living room nervously as you dropped your keys onto the table by the door and discarded your shoes. You expected something to jump out from the shadows at any given moment, though logically, you knew nobody else was in here.
Still, your body tensed as you strode further inwards, your jaw clenched in anticipation as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, waiting for something to happen.
A big part of you still felt Seojun lingering in every corner of the one-bedroom apartment you rented out, and when a gust of wind blew in through the cracked window and sent your curtains flying about, you nearly screamed in surprise. Fortunately, all that left your mouth was a small gasp, causing Jisungs arms to wrap around you in an instant.
“It’s alright, Jagiya.” he cooed softly in your ear as his arms tightened around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. “He’s not here. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
Your eyebrows shot upwards in surprise at his words, causing you to turn in his hold and look at him in confusion.
“How did you-?” you paused and squinted at him, the pieces forming together quickly inside of your mind. “Minho, that bastard.” you finished with an annoyed grunt.
Obviously it was Minho.
Jisungs hand came up to hold the back of your head as he pulled you into a hug.
“Please don’t be mad at Min, okay? When he, Chan, Jo and Ash left in a hurry this morning I knew something was going on. I practically forced it out of him the second they got back home.” he explained. "I didn't want to believe it until I saw for myself, so I'm sorry for what I said back at the club. You didn't deserve the way I spoke to you. I was just hurt and confused."
You swallowed roughly at the news, wondering how much Minho had told him.
“How much do you know?” You asked, barely registering the coldness that seemed to seep into your words. You bit the inside of your cheek as you waited for Jisungs response.
“He didn’t tell me the details.” he reassured you, his arms still holding you in a tight embrace. “Just that that asshole was hurting you. He didn’t even tell me you were home.”
You nodded slowly, lost in thought.
Despite wanting to be mad at Minho, you knew you couldn’t be. Your friends always had your best interests in mind, even if it didn’t seem like it at times, so Minho telling Jisung meant he was confident Jisung wouldn’t say anything to anyone, especially not to the others.
Though, you knew with how nosy and protective they all were, they’d all find out the truth eventually. It wasn’t like you were planning on hiding it from them, you just wanted to avoid the topic as long as you could. But right here, right now, you couldn’t think of any reason not to tell Jisung the details of what you went through.
You trusted him with your life, and this, whatever this was, was forever. He’d never leave your side again and you knew you’d never leave his.
“Do you want to know?” you asked softly, almost whispering as your head dipped and your eyes found your feet. You wouldn’t push it upon him, but you knew letting him know you trusted him with everything in you was important. He needed the reassurance, needed to see how serious you were about him, about this, about whatever came next for the two of you after tonight.
Jisung was silent for a moment as his fingers found the cast on your arm, causing your eyes to lift up anxiously and meet him once more. He looked pained and unsure as he stared at the plaster, as if the answer to your question was more than just a simple yes or no, because in all honesty, it was.
This was about more than just finding out what makes each other tick, it was about being vulnerable and opening up about the trauma you worked so hard to push away. It was about giving someone the opportunity to destroy you and trusting them not to. It was about handing them a ‘get out of jail’ free card and then praying they wouldn’t use it, that they wouldn’t leave, that they’d stay.
It was scary.
No, it was fucking terrifying, but for Jisung, you would do anything.
After a couple of short, thoughtful breaths, Jisung gave you a sad smile.
“Not unless you want me to know. And even then, I won’t pressure you into telling me.” he answered, softly kissing the tip of your nose. “Just know that I’m not going anywhere, okay? No matter what you went through and who you become because of it, I’ll be right here. I’ll stick by your side while you work through this and do whatever it is you need of me to help. We’re in this together.”
It was like a flame had suddenly ignited inside the depths of your heart at his words. Like someone had poured gasoline into your veins in an attempt to bring you down, and Jisungs words, his encouragement, was the match that lit you on fire and allowed you to fight back.
The sentiment was short and sweet, one that anybody else would have laughed at and waved off as him being too cheesy, but to you, it meant everything. You could feel the sincerity and truth behind each vowel, each consonant, and it made your heart burst with a form of emotion you’ve never felt before.
It was more than the happiness and joy you felt when you were surrounded by your friends, more than the excitement and anticipation you endured when you walked out on stage and found thousands of fans staring back at you. It was more than any pain and sadness you felt during your time away.
This was it. This was true love. And you found it in your best friend, just like you always hoped you would.
A smile broke out onto your face and an unexpected sob escaped your throat as you stared into Jisungs big, beautiful eyes. The ones that held so much adoration, so much joy, so much respect. You saw galaxies upon galaxies inside them, the chocolatey brown nearly hypnotising you as they sparkled in the dim light.
In that moment, you wanted him, needed him, in every way possible, but the words got caught in your throat and all that you managed to squeak out was a small “Thank you Ji.”
Jisung smiled back at you, a laugh seeping from his lips.
“Anything for you, Princess.” he whispered. Your heart skipped a beat.
“Anything, you say?” you then raised your eyebrow suggestively, causing his gummy smile to fade into one of his signature smirks.
The way his eyes darkened as if on cue had a fire stirring in your lower belly.
“Absolutely anything.” he chimed back without hesitation.
And those words of affirmation were all you needed to pick up where the two of you left off at the club. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him to you, swiftly connecting your lips to his. Immediately, he scooped you up and wrapped your legs around his waist as his tongue pushed against your lips, demanding entry.
Before you knew it, you were straddling Jisung on the couch, your tongues both slowly and lazily tasting each other, exploring the expanses of what the other had to offer. While your fingers threaded through his hair, his hands explored you at an achingly slow pace. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you, his movements neverending as he memorised every inch of skin he could find.
All traces of wanting to rip his clothes off had exited your mind the second he sat the two of you down. There was no rush. You guys had the rest of your lives to jump into the sheets with one another. This night, however, would be one you both would remember for eternity, and the both of you cherished every breathing second you had as if it would be your last.
Every breath was slow, every touch delicate and teasing, every smile and giggle against the others lips dissolved into another long, searing-hot kiss. The two of you could stay like this for hours and still neither of you would be completely satisfied.
You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat like this for, just holding each other while your tongues battled for dominance, but when Jisung eventually pulled away, the two of you were breathless and exhausted.
You didn’t say a word as his big eyes found yours, his hands finally teasing the hem of the shirt you had on, a look of question in his eyes. He was silently asking permission to go further, to touch more of you, and you hoped the half nod and smile you sent back his way would suffice as an answer as you were still struggling to catch your breath.
Jisung didn’t give you much time to do so before he captured your lips once more and put his hands to work.
When his large, calloused hands dipped beneath the fabric, a jolt of electricity shot across your skin and a gasp fell from your lips into Jisungs open mouth. He smiled against you before reaching his hands higher, his fingers softly tracing up your spine until he came into contact with the clasp of your bra.
With one flick of his wrist, your clasp was undone, and he wasted no time bringing one of his hands around to slip under the cup and grab ahold of your breast.
With his other hand, he pulled your shirt over your head while he gently kneaded you in his palm, your bra following shortly after. He pulled away from your lips and leaned back to briefly stare at your now naked chest in wonder.
“Jesus Christ Jagi,” he whispered delightfully, his thumb coming up to run across your already hardened nipple. Your body jolted at the sensation, causing an evil grin to lift the corners of his mouth while a puddle formed in your panties. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
A blush crept to your cheeks, but instead of feeling insecure and shying away from him, you felt your ego boost to a whole new level.
Jisung brought his face to your chest and delicately kissed the cluster of scabs that sat at the crevice where your torso and arm met. You expected the old cigarette burns to hurt when his lips came into contact with them, but you felt nothing but neutral sensitivity. The action was so intimate and soft you almost lost your senses, but then Jisung was back to the task at hand an instant later, the soft, sweet moment gone.
“Does that feel good, Princess?” Jisung asked as he rubbed his thumb across your nipple once more, watching the way your head fell back while a moan escaped your lips. You nodded in response, your hips seeming to have a mind of their own as they swung back before dragging forwards against the bulge in his pants that didn’t seem to fully go away ever since you kissed him in the club.
Both of you moaned noisily into the emptiness of the apartment as you repeated your actions several more times, the two of you feeling the wave of pleasure you both so desperately craved but were too nervous to insinuate up until now.
“That’s it Jagi, lemme’ hear those pretty sounds.” Jisung mumbled as his other hand came up to cup your other breast, his thumbs now both circling around your nipples simultaneously.
Your jaw fell open and your eyes squeezed closed as pleasure shot through your body at his actions, another moan eliciting itself from deep within. With his thumbs gently playing with your nipples and his dick growing harder and harder against your core, you swore you were on cloud nine. A laugh escaped Jisungs throat as he watched you seductively grind against him.
“That’s my girl.” he praised softly, smiling up at you. Your eyes popped open at his words, the praise sending chills straight down to your pussy, and he flashed you another evil grin before bringing his face back into your chest.
He wasted no time in clamping his mouth down around one of your nipples, his tongue expertly running over it as his now free arm folded around you, holding you against him and causing a halt in your hips movements. A high-pitched cry left your mouth when he pinched the opposite nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, his tongue still working wonders against you.
It had been so long since you had any of this, felt any of this, that you weren’t sure what to do, how to react. No one had ever touched you like this before. Seojun barely spared you any type of physical affection when the two of you got intimate, and if he did, it was brief, never lasting long enough for you to even get worked up over.
Jisung was bringing you into unfamiliar territory, and quickly at that. Despite his strong hold against your lower back, despite wanting to melt into the way his tongue slowly worked your sensitive bud, blowing at it and nibbling when he needed to breathe, you couldn’t help but wiggle. You needed to feel this on top of the added movement of your hips grinding against his. You needed to feel that warm, fuzzy feeling build up in your tummy that you haven’t felt in years.
“Ji.” you cried as your hands flew up to tug at his hair, trying to pull him from your chest. Jisung mumbled a soft ‘hmmm’ in response, his attention solely focused on your breasts.
“I need more.” you whined. The way your lower lip jutted out was more than a little pathetic, you knew that, but with the way Jisung was pleasuring you right now, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Jisung pulled away from you then and craned his head back to stare at you.
“What’s wrong, Princess?” he doted, his fingers pausing in their attack on your swollen nipple and coming up to tug at your pout. “You want more?”
You cried against his touch.
“I need more.” you emphasised, your hips still struggling to move against his firm hold. "I need you."
Jisung paused to brush a strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear and giving you a firm kiss on the lips before he released his hold on you.
"God, I want you so bad Princess." he whispered as his darkened eyes sparkled into yours. You swung your hips back and grinded hard against him, continuing your previous assault on the boner in his pants.
"Then fucking take me already Ji." you begged.
Jisung let out a small sigh and brushed some more hair from your face.
"I can't." he pouted. “Even though there’s nothing I would rather do more.”
You quirked your eyebrow and smirked at him as your hips continued their slow movement against his. "Oh, and why is that Ji?" you teased around a small gasp, bringing your face to his jawline where you began planting soft kisses.
Jisung sighed once more, his body growing tense under you, and you immediately stopped all of your movements. You pulled back to look at him, your eyes widening in concern as you took in the anxious expression that had suddenly fallen upon his face and the way he was nervously chewing on his lower lip,
“Ji, Baby, what’s wrong?”
Jisung swallowed roughly before his gaze fell to your shoulder. He pulled his lower lip into his mouth completely, his breath shaky as he gave you a slow response, the anticipation killing you.
“I just,” he paused before his eyes found yours again, his once darkened pupils now dilated with worry. “I don't want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you. We both have alcohol in us and I don’t want our first time to be made on a drunken decision that you’re gonna’ regret in the morning.”
His honesty melted your heart but his insecurities threatened to disintegrate it completely. You hadn’t even thought of the fact that the two of you were running on alcohol and adrenaline alone. You were completely consumed by him that you didn’t even stop to think about what he wanted, what he needed.
It was your turn to reach up and tug at his pout.
“Han Jisung, the man you are.” you whispered in complete awe. Jisung’s lower lip jutted out further and he blinked up at you through his long lashes.
“I’m sorry, Bubs.” he whispered. Instantly, your hands flew up to cup his face, forcing him to tilt his head back and look at you completely.
“Hey. None of that.” you lightly scolded. “Never apologise for speaking your mind and telling me how you feel, okay?” Your eyes shone into his so intensely Jisung thought he might cry. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint you and his anxiety was quickly making him feel as if he was.
He swallowed hard again, his eyes darting between yours. The two of you stared at each other intimately for a moment before he nodded, his body relaxing slightly beneath you.
"I will never regret you." you then added, making sure he understood every syllable and that he felt the truth behind your claim. “Never.”
A small breath of relief left Jisungs mouth and he nodded again, the reassurance charging him like a battery. That’s all he needed to hear.
“Thank you Jagi.” he whispered, his face leaning into the hands that were pressed against his cheeks. The warmth that radiated from your body mixed with the smell of you was soothing and comforting to him, so much so he suddenly felt tired and exhausted and like he could fall asleep right then and there.
You noticed his eyes closing, his body melding into yours, and you leaned forward to plant a kiss on his exposed forehead. Jisung smiled and opened his eyes slightly to beam up at you.
“I’d do anything for you, you know that, right?” you asked softly, your thumbs running delicately against his cheek bones. Jisung's eyes sparkled at your words, his lips tilting upwards into another one of his signature smirks.
“Anything?” he mimicked your words from earlier, causing a giggle to escape your lips. God, he could listen to that sound all day.
You gave his cheeks a small squeeze.
“Absolutely anything.” you quipped back before placing another kiss on his forehead, followed by one to his nose. Jisungs smirk broke out into a smile before he carefully hoisted you off of his lap and held his hand out to you while he stood from the couch.
“Come shower with me?” he asked, his eyes glimmering with joy. You stared up at him, your mind still trying to process how he managed to get you off of him and on to his feet so quickly.
“What?” you asked out of habit. It wasn’t that you hadn’t heard him, you heard him loud and clear, but your brain was foggy as the adrenaline from your lewd actions began to simmer.
Jisung took your hand in his and pulled you to your feet when you took too long to do so yourself. He wasted no time planting a kiss to your cheek before pulling you towards the bathroom door, that damn evil grin appearing on his face once more.
“The sooner we shower and clean up, the sooner we can go to sleep, and the sooner we go to sleep, the sooner we can wake up and do what we’re both dying to do right now.”
He didn’t even wait for your answer as he opened the door to the bathroom and pulled you promptly inside.
*****
Waking up the next morning beside Jisung was a strange and unfamiliar sensation. Not because you had someone in the bed next to you, that much you were used to by now, but because of the sheer level of intimacy that was shared between the two of you as your limbs tangled together in peace.
You never woke up in another person's arms before, their face pressed into the back of your neck where their breath tickled you softly. It was strange to wake up engulfed in another person's scent, their arms wrapped tightly around your torso as if they were scared you’d disappear if they let go, even in their sleep.
It had been a long time since you woke up feeling this calm and at peace.
It had been a long time since you felt this safe.
You blinked your eyes open and glanced over at the alarm clock on your bedside table. It was only six in the morning. You let out a small groan.
You were careful not to jostle Jisung too much as you reached blindly for your phone. You were happy to see you hadn’t received any more messages or calls from Seojun, but the twelve missed calls from Jo and the endless group chat messages left you feeling just as crappy.
You had totally forgotten to text the group last night to let them know you and Jisung were together and safe. You stifled a sound of guilt as you lazily swiped across the screen to read the messages everyone had sent.
You let out a small sigh, laughing silently to yourself at your friends and their antics. You debated texting them back, but Jisung shifting his body behind you had you dropping your phone to the table once more and turning softly in his embrace.
He lay on his back, his one arm still tightly wrapped around you while the other was now thrown across his forehead, trying to block the sunlight that poured into the room. A cool breeze blew through the open window, causing him to squeeze you against his warm body.
You rested your head onto his shoulder and glanced up at him, admiring him as he slept.
He was absolutely exquisite.
His skin was glowing against the early morning sun, making the small scar along his forehead and the mole on his cheek stand out prominently. There were bags under his eyes, only slightly lighter than they were the night before, and his long eyelashes cast shadows across his cheeks beautifully.
The scar beside his eye was practically begging for you to run your finger along it, so you did, reaching up gently and making sure your touch was feather-light. With a mind of its own, your finger then moved to trace the bridge of his nose down to the tip before slowly running along the plushness of his lips.
Your face began to heat up as you thought about his lips and what else they were capable of other than kissing you senseless, and you were so wrapped in the thought that you nearly jumped when Jisungs fingers dug into your side lovingly a moment later, signalling he was awake.
You grinned up at him and poked his mole, causing a smile to breakout across his face, his eyes still closed.
“Good Morning Princess,” he whispered, his voice raspy from sleep. “Did you sleep well?”
With your finger still prodding at the tiny beauty mark, you sighed.
“Better than I have in years.” you told him honestly. Jisung just smiled and brought his other arm around you again, pulling you up so you were laying on top of him, your legs now tangling with his.
You rested your hands along his naked chest, your chin propped on top of them as you melted into his touch and watched as his eyes opened slowly. He looked down at you as one of his hands reached up to brush his knuckles softly against your cheek.
“You’re so gorgeous, Jagiya.” he murmured. “I love you so much.”
You didn’t need to say it back. Jisung knew just from the twinkle in your eyes how deeply you felt for him. It made his heart pound in happiness.
The two of you were silent for a moment, staring at each other in wonder as you both got lost in thought. You felt breathless knowing he was yours now, completely and undeniably so.
You were so scared he wasn’t going to want you back after everything that happened. You were so sure you were going to tell him how you felt and he would just turn around and leave you in the dust, much like you left him.
The fact that the two of you were here now, clinging to each other while you both tried to rid your bodies from sleep, was an absolute dream come true. It couldn’t have turned out better.
You impulsively reached one hand up to trace your fingers against his lips once more, your mind once again swirling with thoughts of him pleasuring you with it.
“I was so worried I wasn’t going to get you back.” you whispered, trying to mask the blush on your cheeks.
Jisung grabbed your fingers and kissed them gently before resting his cheek against them.
“I was so worried you weren’t going to come back.” he answered just as quietly, his eyes staring into yours. You gave him a cheeky grin as you scooted up his torso, bringing your face level with his.
“Yejun told me about all of your late night endeavours. You’ve been pretty busy since I’ve been gone, huh?” you teased before planting a kiss to his cheek and nestling your face into his neck. You breathed him in as his arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you in place.
A sigh left his mouth at your words and he let out an embarrassed chuckle.
“Yeah, I’m not proud of who I became when you left. Losing you was the worst thing that ever happened to me and it was obvious by my actions that I didn’t give a single fuck about those girls or their feelings.” he mumbled. You could tell by the tone in his voice he was severely disappointed in himself, so you lifted your head from his neck and poked his mole again as you stared into his eyes.
“Hey, those girls were lucky to have been underneath you.” you joked. Jisung gave you a soft smile and pushed some hair out of your eyes again as he answered, causing your heart to leap in your chest.
“And yet, none of them stood a single chance against you.”
You dimpled up at him, feeling speechless at his cheesy words before planting a tender kiss to his lips, though Jisung suddenly had other ideas in mind.
As you pulled your face away from him, his hand came up to hold the back of your head, halting you so he could chase you with his lips and pull you back down.
Despite the forty-five minute shower the two of you had the night before, where you did nothing but make out relentlessly in between washing each other's bodies, you still felt your stomach flutter when he pushed his lips against yours.
Despite the hour or so afterwards that you guys spent just holding each other in bed and kissing, never reaching past second base, you still felt your heart thump excitedly in your chest when Jisungs tongue slipped past your swollen lips and battled against yours.
Kissing him now felt as natural to you as breathing, but it still left you feeling breathless and weak to the butterflies that filled your tummy like it was the first kiss all over again. Well, second technically.
But, unlike the many kisses that were shared the night before, this one was quick to become needy and desperate. Gone was the long and slow exploration of each other's mouths and in came frenzied desire as you two clung to each other, both acknowledging it was now morning and you were free to do what you so desperately longed for all night.
With his tongue still battling yours, Jisung removed his hands from your head and let them roam down your body until they were cupping your ass. He squeezed handfuls of your cheeks into his palms, his nails digging desperately into your skin, causing you to hiss in delight as he pulled you against him. You could feel his bulge growing hard against the inside of his boxer briefs, and you felt excitement shake your bones when he lightly lifted his hips to push himself against your core.
You moaned noisily into Jisungs mouth as his hands then slipped further down your ass, his fingers reaching to prod lightly at your panty-covered core from behind. He wasted no time sliding your panties aside and running a finger teasingly along your folds, a groan leaving his mouth as he felt how wet you already were for him.
“Princess,” he mumbled against your lips, his hips pressing up into yours again. “You’re already so wet for me and I haven’t even done anything yet.” he teased as he slowly inserted the tip of his finger into you, only slipping far enough in to reach his first knuckle.
The feeling of just the tip of his finger toying with you had a whine slipping from your mouth as your hips began to grind against his.
“Sungie,” you groaned. “Need you so bad.”
Jisung grinned up at you in awe as he hugged you tight to his chest, his eyes sparkling in excitement when he slowly inserted his finger further into you. The most delectable sound left your mouth, encouraging him to then pump his finger in and out at a snails pace.
The feeling of his clothed dick pushing up into you mixed with his finger softly sliding in and out of your pussy had your legs shaking and your breath caught in your throat. He felt so damn good you could cry.
Jisung mocked the pout that fell onto your face with one of his own as he stared into your eyes, gauging your reaction to his actions.
“What’s wrong Bubby? Feels good, huh? You like it when I touch you like that?”
All you could do was nod in response and let your face fall into the crook of his neck, your breathing heavy.
It had been so long since you’ve been this worked up by something that wasn’t yourself and your own fingers. It was almost painful to feel your orgasm building so quickly.
Unexpectedly, Jisung slipped another finger into you at the same time that he dipped the tip of his thumb over the opening to your anus. A loud, almost pornographic gasp escaped from your throat at the unfamiliarity and foreign sensation.
No one had ever touched you there before, and while you never saw yourself as someone who would enjoy anything to do with that part of your body, you couldn’t deny the absolute euphoria that rattled your bones as Jisung repeated his actions once more.
“Is that okay, Princess?” he whispered, watching you intently for any signs of discomfort. You nodded quickly against his neck before lifting your face to come level with his again.
“Mm'do it again.” you begged before you pressed your mouth to his, the kiss immediately becoming sloppy, teeth clashing against each other as your resolve began to slip.
“Anything for my girl.” Jisung murmured back before he dipped his thumb into your opening again, his fingers moving in time with it.
The heat in your belly grew at double the speed as Jisung worked his digits inside of you. You felt manic as his hold around you loosened, allowing you room to move your hips against his all over again.
Within minutes, the three different sensations all working against you in tandem had you practically screaming, begging for relief. It was all too much.
Just as your head began to grow foggy and the heat in your stomach was on the verge of exploding, Jisung pulled his fingers out of you and flipped you onto your back, stopping you before you could reach your release.
A cry left your mouth involuntarily at the sudden loss of contact.
“What the fuck Ji?” you gasp, your breathing coming out in spurts.
Jisung smirked down at you from where he was hovering over your body on his forearms, his legs tangled with yours as he pressed his erection into your thigh. His silver-blonde hair fell into his eyes as that wicked smile spread across his puffy cheeks.
“Sorry Jagi, but I don’t want you cumming yet unless it's around my cock.”
A growl left your mouth unexpectedly.
“Motherfucker.” you ground out around clenched teeth as you pushed him off of you. Jisungs eyes widened in surprise but he obeyed you without a hassle, allowing you to push him back against the headboard and straddle his thin waist.
“Let’s see if you’re as bratty and submissive as everyone thinks you are.” you half-threatened, your hands working quickly to slip off his boxers. His thick, hard cock bounced back lightly against his stomach, causing you to pause and stare at him in wonder as you threw his boxers somewhere behind you.
Jisung bit the inside of his cheek at your hesitation, watching you nervously as you stared down at him.
“Is it okay, Jagi?” he whispered out. Your eyes flickered up to his and you saw mountains of insecurity in them. Without a pause, you nodded your head and licked your lips, your eyes travelling back downwards.
“It’s fucking perfect Ji. Can’t wait to feel it inside of me.”
A small sigh left his mouth, his shoulders relaxing at your reassurance.
“How’s your pull out game?” you then asked as you continued to stare at him, saliva pooling in your mouth at the mere thought of having him pumping inside of you. Jisung was quick to answer, his insecurities gone as quick as they came.
“As strong as it needs to be, why?”
“I just wann’ feel you raw.” you answered around a huff as you slid your panties off. The shirt Jisung was wearing the night before hung loosely around your body, barely covering your naked skin. Jisung swore he could cum right then and there from just the sight of you.
“Yeah?” his muscles tensed at the thought of having you wrapped around him with nothing separating your bodies. He moaned lightly just imagining it.
You licked your lips and nodded swiftly in response as you straddled his hips, his dick throbbing deliciously in between the two of you.
"Yes. Please. Just let me feel you." You cried. You reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair again and pulled his head back roughly, your eyes shining into his.
Shamelessly, Jisung moaned into the feeling, staring up at you as if his biggest dreams were coming true, because they were.
He always dreamed of being with a dominant girl in the bedroom, but all of the females he’s ever been with insisted on him using his dominance over them. Sure, there was nothing he loved more than bending someone over and fucking them into submission, and he couldn't wait to do that to you, but he longed for the chance to let someone direct him. He yearned to let someone be in control for once and use him to their heart's content.
And alas, here you were, doing exactly that without even being asked.
As if you needed to be any more perfect for him.
As if he needed to be more in love with you than he already was.
“There’s no one like you Jagiya.” he whispered in awe before he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips against yours. You positioned yourself over his dick and pulled his hair roughly once more, earning another whimper from his mouth before you lowered yourself down onto him.
The stretch was slow, excruciatingly delicious. He filled you so perfectly you nearly came from the skin on skin contact alone. Jisung must’ve felt it too because he squeezed his nails into your hip bones and helped pull you down completely until your pelvis was flush with his, a hiss slipping from his lips as euphoria hit him.
For several long seconds, the two of you froze, both crying out in pleasure at the highs that were already building from the naked sensation of each other's bodies against one another.
It made you feel delirious, the way he fit inside you so flawlessly, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix delicately. Your hips twitched with anticipation, causing his dick to press further into you and you couldn’t do anything except let your head fall to his shoulder as a whine left your lips.
“Ji, Baby,” you cried. “You feel so good.”
Jisungs breathing was already laboured as he focused on not cumming inside you. Your walls clenched around him so effortlessly it was almost as if your bodies were made for each other.
“I know, Jagi. I know. Your pussy feels so good around me, it’s making me fucking crazy.” he whined.
"Are you good to go?" You asked, barely holding yourself back from grinding your hips down onto his. Jisung took another deep breath and nodded, desperate to feel you.
You smiled against the skin of his shoulder as you then began to rock your hips, riding him slowly, allowing both of your bodies time to adjust to the feeling. Everytime you'd rock your hips forward, you'd yank Jisungs hair, causing him to whimper and buck his hips up into you, which in turn only encouraged you to move again, desperate for that friction.
It was a vicious cycle that had you both whining with pleasure as you made love to him. Because that's what this was. You weren't fucking him, you were pouring every ounce of love you had for the man underneath you into each roll of your hips, and you knew, you felt, the loving pouring back into you from him as he thrust his hips upwards to meet you halfway.
It didn't take you for long to reach your high again. The knot in your stomach tightened quickly with each movement and you were whimpering into Jisungs ear desperately despite being the one in charge.
Jisung pressed his lips to your ear when he felt your pussy clench around him beautifully. He smiled against your earlobe as he tightened his hold around you.
"That's it Princess. Cum all over my cock." He whispered. That sentence alone, hearing the dirty words slip past his lips, is what sent you over the edge and you did exactly that. You came, hard, drenching him in your juices as a loud gasp fell from your lips and you dug your nails into his shoulders.
Your legs shook violently as Jisung continued pressing his hips up into you, extending your orgasm into one of the best highs you've ever had. It had been so long since you've had one that tears immediately formed in your eyes and pooled down your cheeks.
You shoved your face into Jisungs neck and sniffled, trying to stop the tears from flowing. Tears of relief for reaching the high you were barely able to accomplish on your own, and tears of happiness because Jisung was the one beneath you, making you feel this way.
You always dreamed of this, of him being beneath you, on top of you, inside of you. You spent the last year and a half with another man, fantasising about this one specifically, and having those fantasies finally become a reality was absolutely mind altering. You've never been happier than in this moment.
Jisung stopped his hips movements when he felt your tears wet his skin, and he pulled away slightly to look up at you in concern.
"Are you okay Princess? What's wrong?" His big, brown eyes were full of worry as he watched you cry. His dick was still hard inside of you, and yet all he could focus on was your emotions.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You apologised as you wiped at the wetness on your cheeks. Jisungs hand came up to help wipe the tears that were spilling over uncontrollably.
"What are you apologising for, Bubs?"
You hiccuped and shoved your face back into his neck, feeling heat flush your cheeks in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry. I'll be able to keep going in a minute. I just-” you hiccuped again. “I just haven't had one of those in a long time." You explained.
"What, an orgasm?" Jisung was briefly shocked at your revelation, but it quickly turned to downright annoyance when realisation hit, but it wasn’t directed at you.
"Wait, that asshole never…?" He trailed off when he felt you shake your head against his neck. The two of you were quiet for a couple seconds as Jisung pulled you impossibly closer to him, his dick still twitching restlessly.
“How long has it been since you had one that wasn’t your own doing?” he asked quietly, his heart breaking for you. You took a shaky breath and mumbled your answer into his shoulder, feeling your cheeks flush even more.
“Years.”
Jisungs eyes nearly bulged out of his head, and he was glad you stayed nestled into him. The last thing he wanted was his surprise to be mistaken as pity and have you get even more upset than you already seemed to be.
“Oh, Princess.” he doted as he tightened his hold on you and flipped you onto your back unexpectedly with ease, his dick still burrowed deep inside you. The second your head hit the pillow, your eyes widened with worry and you began to shake your head in protest.
“What are you doing? No, no, no. I’m on top. I’m always on top.” you felt panic begin to grow inside your chest, but it faded away just as quickly as you saw the reassurance in Jisungs eyes. He pulled a hand out from beneath you and wiped at your tears, brushing his fingertips lightly against your cheekbones before kissing them promptly.
“Just take a deep breath Bubs” he whispered. “How about you let me make you feel good, hm? It’s the least I could do for the love of my life.” he cooed. You stared up at him in confusion for a moment, trying to process what it was he said.
He wanted to take over and fuck you?
The idea of being on the receiving end felt so foreign and strange to you. You’ve been the dominant one for so long, you barely remembered what it felt like to let someone else be in control. You stared up at him with your big beautiful eyes, a look of uncertainty in them, and Jisung’s heart nearly broke all over again.
It was at that moment he vowed to himself that he would always do everything in his power to give you as many orgasms as you wanted, whenever you wanted. Anything to get that look of insecurity off your face.
He brushed his fingers against your cheek again when you still didn’t give him a consensual answer to keep going.
“Let me take care of you, Bubby. Let me show you what it feels like to be with a real man. One who loves every square inch of you, inside and out. Just lay back and let Sungie do all the work, yeah?”
The amount of promise and emotion in his eyes had you choking on your next breath. A feeling of excitement brewed low in your stomach, one you hadn’t felt in forever, and you nodded eagerly. You didn’t realise how badly you were craving this until now.
With a satisfied smile, Jisung pulled out of you completely and kissed your forehead before repositioning himself. He took your one leg and laid it flat against the bed, moving to straddle it as he hoisted the other up onto his shoulder. Your body twisted slightly with the movement, leaving you half on your side and leaving your pussy tight and ready for him.
With his hand cradling your leg, he turned his head and kissed your calf softly before positioning himself at your entrance.
“Are you ready Princess?” he asked. You nodded breathlessly, eager to have him fill you up once more. Jisung sent you one of his sweet, gummy smiles before he turned his head and bit roughly into the muscle of your calf, his dick pushing into you at the same time. The pain and pleasure of both actions mixed together so perfectly you let out a string of curse words in response.
The position he had you in was new, one you never tried before, and while your butt ached from the way your body was twisted, you couldn’t deny how good it felt. His dick was pushing against your cervix so flawlessly you nearly passed out from the pleasure alone.
“Oh my fucking god,” you cried as Jisungs hips began to rock into you. The friction of his pelvis rubbing against yours from how deep he pushed was blinding, his mouth only adding to the intensity as he licked and bit at your leg.
You let out a loud squeal as he pulled himself half-way out and slammed back into you again.
“I told myself I was going to take my sweet ass time with you, but the way your pussy is clenching around me right now is making me fucking feral Princess.” he breathed as he picked up his pace, his hips rocking more forcefully into you.
You let your head fall into the pillow as another round of obscene sounds left your throat. Jisung’s head had fallen back in pleasure as he cursed under his breath. You were so perfect for him. He wanted to take care of you and absolutely destroy you at the same time.
“My god, you’re so perfect for me Jagi.” he groaned as his face fell downwards so he could stare at you. You were looking back at him already, your face contorted into a look of pure bliss as he fucked you senseless. He felt his high approaching but he forced it back, wanting to make you finish at least once more before he did.
Luckily for him, you were close, and when his hands came down to wrap around your thigh, his nails digging into your skin as he pulled you even closer, allowing him to go deeper, you shattered.
“Fuck Ji, baby. I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I’m cumming.” you cried loudly as you exploded around him, your walls squeezing him deliciously. Jisungs hips halted as he pressed into you as far as he could go, wiggling slightly to help overstimulate you. He paused there, watching your face melt into a puddle of pure satisfaction.
“You’re so good for me Princess.” he reached down to cup your chin, forcing you to look at him as you shook in sensitivity. “Keep your eyes on me, okay? I’m not done yet.”
Before you could process his words, Jisung manoeuvred himself once again until he was snug between both of your legs, looming over you in missionary. His dick automatically slid back into your slick cunt and he wasted no time chasing the high he had been holding back.
He thrust into you hard, his dick sliding delightfully against your walls, his eyes never leaving yours and yours never leaving his. You had barely come down from your previous orgasm, the oversensitivity building another one up so quickly it was overwhelming. But you didn’t dare ask him to stop. Not when he was making you feel so heavenly.
“Fuck Jisung. Fuck, fuck fuck. Your dick feels so good inside of me.” you whimpered as he continued to relentlessly slip in and out of you, the overstimulation perfect. “I’m gonna’ cum again.”
Jisung let out a hearty laugh as his face fell into your neck, his lips and teeth gliding against your skin as he squeezed your hips and tried to hold you still.
“You gonna’ give me another one?” he teased, to which all you could do was nod in response. His question quickly sent you over the edge again unexpectedly, your body floating in bliss as the white hot pleasure threatened to blind you.
“Holy shit, Bubby. Your pussy feels amazing sucking me in like this. You’re so fucking tight. Shit.” Jisung’s movements faltered as his orgasm approached quickly. “Shit, Princess, I’m gonna’ cum. Let me out.”
Instead of allowing him enough room to exit and cum all over your tummy, you wrapped your legs around his slutty waist and squeezed him closer to you. Jisungs eyes widened in panic, his hips stuttering again.
“What’re you doing?” he squeaked as he tried to hold back his orgasm long enough to escape. The pout on your face would have driven him over the edge if your next words hadn’t.
“I want you to cum inside of me Ji.” you whimpered, staring into his eyes.
“Wha-?” Jisung stuttered over his words. He was feeling so frenzied he barely managed to slow his hips down long enough to make sure he heard you right. “Are you - fuck - are you sure?"
You nodded quickly, feeling tears form in your eyes again because of how desperately you wanted to feel him. “I wann’ feel you fill me up. Please Jisung. Make me yours.”
The affirmation was all he needed. Jisung nodded and pressed a kiss to your lips as he bucked his hips, picking up his pace once more. The small break in his movements, the unintentional edging, left him absolutely pussy drunk. He began slamming into you with so much force your body was moving up the bed with every thrust.
“Oh Jagi,” he moaned. “I’m gonna fill you up so good. Gonna give it to you so nice. Fuck. Tell me how much you love me Bubby. Tell me you’re all mine.” he begged desperately.
The oversensitivity from your orgasm had you feeling unhinged, barely able to keep your eyes open, let alone form another sentence to respond.
“‘Mmmm love you s’much Ji. More than anything else in’he world. I’m all yours.”
“Fuck Jagiya. I’m fucking cumming.”
A second later, he exploded. His load shot into you at neck-breaking speed, painting your walls and filling you to the brim. He had waited so long to fuck you, there was so much of it. It spilled out of you so easily, and yet, Jisung couldn’t get enough of those pretty sounds leaving your mouth.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he forced his hips to continue a slow thrust forwards, extending his orgasm impossibly more, the overstimulation driving him crazy.
You let out a whimper as you felt his dick slowly softening inside of you. Regardless, it still felt amazing pushing inside of your pussy, and you knew if he kept thrusting into you like that, you’d cum again from the feeling of it alone.
“You got one more in you, yeah?” Jisung asked lovingly as he pushed the hair off of your sweaty forehead. Your eyes barely opened, a soft cry leaving your mouth as you nodded, desperate for that high you suddenly felt absolutely addicted to.
“Of course you do, that’s why you’re so good for me.” he praised as he continued to fuck you while his dick softened. It was rubbing so delicious into your swollen clit, a mixture of your juices and his spilling from you and onto the bed sheets.
“Gotta’ make sure my Princess is satisfied.” Jisung lips found yours and he brought you in for a long, slow, burning-hot kiss. One that was no longer rushed, no longer delirious and desperate. One that, much like the night before, held mountains of love and adoration and happiness. One that showed you just how much you meant to him, how much he needed you, how hard he fell for you.
It was passionate, feeling his tongue glide over yours as his dick lazily pushed in and out of you, your orgasm building as quickly as the others had. His hands slowly trailed up underneath your shirt and he softly caressed your breasts, his fingers moving to play with your nipples as his swollen lips left yours and latched onto your neck. He licked the sensitive spot right below your jawline before biting it gently and before you knew it, another orgasm hit, an exhausted cry leaving your mouth.
“That’s my fucking girl.” Jisung praised, his hips stuttering to a halt as you came around his cock one last time.
He watched you with pure adoration, loving the way your face twisted up in pleasure as you came around his semi-hard dick. You looked absolutely gorgeous, hair sprawled out across the pillow, body slick with sweat, your eyes barely open as your jaw fell slack.
You were so beautiful he felt himself growing hard again already. He would've loved to keep going, fucking you like this for hours until you were both spent and exhausted, but the pained look that spread across your face when he experimentally bucked his hips forwards once more told him you were done for.
Jisung carefully pulled out of you as you tried to catch your breath. He smiled down at you before he rolled onto his back and pulled your naked body on top of him. You barely had enough energy to look at him, so you settled for resting your head across his chest.
Jisung wrapped one of his strong hands around your waist while the other played with your hair softly, his fingers brushing through the knotted and sweaty strands.
The two of you laid like that for a while, both silently catching your breaths. You listened to his heartbeat pumping softly in your ear and it was so comforting you were sure you would've fallen asleep if Jisung hadn't spoken up into the silence that engulfed the room.
"So I've been thinking."
"Uh oh. That's dangerous." You teased. You twisted your head to smirk up at him as he grinned down at you and pinched your sides in retaliation. An adorable squeal escaped your mouth then as his fingers proceeded to gently tickle you, and Jisung swore your laugh was the most beautiful sound ever to exist on earth. He'd listen to it for eternity if he could.
"You're a jerk." He mused, planting a soft kiss to your forehead. You beamed up at him and pinched his cheeks.
"You love me."
Jisung didn't bother denying it. He simply just beamed back at you before leaning forwards to plant another kiss to your face, this one on your nose.
"More than you'll ever understand."
He paused to take a deep breath, brushing your messy hair away from your face before he continued on with what he wanted to say.
"Anyways, as I was saying. How would you feel about moving into the house with the rest of us?"
Still staring up at him, you arched an eyebrow and gave him another sly smile despite the way your heart rate rose quickly at his question.
"Han Jisung," you tsked. "That's a big step. We aren't even dating yet."
You expected a pout to appear on Jisungs face at your joke, but you were surprised to find him smirking back at you instead, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek in amusement.
"Really? 'Cause I thought it was pretty obvious that we were after I had you practically screaming my name just a minute ago." Your jaw dropped in surprise at his upfront teasing. Jisungs smirk deepened as he caught your reaction before he mimicked you in a high-pitched voice, moaning with each word as it left his mouth dramatically.
"Oh Jisung! Oi Papi! You're so good! I love you so much! More than anything else in the world! I'm all yours! Take me, take me!”
You smacked his arm and tried to hide your giggle around a hard glare, but failed miserably. “Alright, alright. It wasn’t that dramatic.”
Jisung let out a laugh of his own at his theatrics and snuggled you closer to him.
“Seriously though, Bubs. Move into the house with us. You practically live there already. We can turn the guest bedroom into an office for you and you can stay with me in mine. We’ve been dying to have you move in for years now.” he explained as he rubbed a hand slowly up and down your back.
Electricity shot through the ends of his fingertips as he trailed his fingers along the curve of your spine. You melted into his touch as you stared up at him, your fingers coming up to prod at his adorable mole again.
Moving in with Jisung and the rest of the family seemed like nothing but a green flag. You did already spend all of your time at the house rather than your own apartment, and you knew each and every member of your friend group would be absolutely over the moon if you moved in. But, you were an introvert at heart, and although you loved your friends dearly, you knew you’d miss your cherished alone time and private space.
“I don’t know Ji.” you whispered as you stared at his beauty mark, unable to meet his gentle gaze. Jisung’s grin softened as he searched your eyes for any sign of you being uncomfortable with his request. He was relieved to find none but he did notice a hint of uncertainty in them, which he knew came from your introverted nature.
“I know you always said you enjoyed having your own space, but I’d feel a hell of a lot better if you moved in with us. I wouldn’t have to worry so much about Seojun showing up out of nowhere and catching you when you’re home alone.” he whispered.
You didn’t want to see the look of disappointment you knew would come to his face when you turned down his idea, so you settled with biting your lip as if you were still undecided.
“I don’t know. I need space for all of my stuff, and you and I both know that the guest bedroom is desperately needed for the amount of parties you idiots throw during your off time. I’ve seen more naked bodies in that bed than I care to admit.”
Jisung let out a small huff and curled his mouth to the side as he fell into another thought, taking your response seriously. You waited patiently as you watched the gears in his brain work in double time while he tried to come up with a better solution.
“Well, what if we move out and get a place together? I can keep you safe.”
Your heart jumped at the proposal, warmth spreading throughout your limbs as soon as the words left Jisungs mouth. You were taken back by how quickly he managed to come up with the idea, almost like he had been debating it for a while.
The second the words reached your ears, there wasn’t anything you wanted more, but you still found yourself shaking your head and giving him a pointed look.
“You wouldn’t hurt a fly, Ji.” you stated, as if that was reason enough not to. Jisungs eyebrows furrowed and he gave you an artificial look of disgust.
“Excuse you, but if Seojun ever dared to show up around here again, you can bet your sweet ass I’d put him in the hospital.”
You let out a thankful smile before you sighed.
“You don’t have to feel obligated to move in with me to keep me safe.” you spoke, your voice soft and quiet. Jisung scoffed at your words and shook his head as if what you said was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.
“Princess, I’m not doing it as an obligation.” he paused to catch your chin in between his fingers as you began to turn your head away, forcing you to look him in the eye. “I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for me, okay? For us. Because now that I have you, the thought of not waking up next to you or coming home to you from here on out makes my stomach turn with anxiety. I don’t want to go another day or night without you by my side.”
You swore to yourself you weren’t going to cry again for the rest of the day, rest of the week even, but after seeing the honesty and sincerity and absolute devotion in his dark eyes, you felt the tears begin to form. The two of you were silent for a moment as he let his words, his emotions, sink in.
This was it for him. You were it for him. There was nowhere else he’d rather be.
You pouted up at him in astonishment.
“You’d… You’d move out of the family house and find a place with me?”
Jisung smiled down at you and wiped at the tears that were threatening to spill out of your widened eyes.
“Baby, I’d marry you tomorrow if I could.”
You swallowed roughly, choking back a sob at his words. It was definitely too soon to be talking about marriage, but the underlying commitment and unspoken promise in his voice rocked you to the core, rendering you speechless.
“I’m also going to sit down and talk with Chan and the managers to see what I have to do in order to bring you along with us whenever we travel for tours and performances and such.”
You blinked up at him, the surprise from his previous statement only making you more emotional. You weren’t expecting that.
“What?” was all you managed out. Jisung brushed his fingers through your hair and let out a hearty laugh.
“What? I was serious when I said I didn’t want to go another night without sleeping next to you.”
Your eyebrow shot up in question.
“Is that really a good idea?”
Jisung shrugged his shoulders and pulled your naked bodies impossibly closer together, revelling in the feeling of your soft skin on his. He could never get enough of this, enough of you.
“Ash and Jo come along with us. So why can’t you?”
It was your turn to scoff and let out a laugh.
“Ash has to, she's the head of make-up. And Chan threw an absolute fit when it came to Jo and that barely worked. How do you know they’ll let you?”
“I’ll throw a bigger fit.” Jisung answered, as if it was obvious. A smile broke out onto your face and you shook your head at him as he continued speaking. “I’m an idol, Baby. They have to let me. Plus, if the sex continues being this incredible, I won’t survive without it. And I can guarantee you none of them would want to put up with my cranky, stressed out ass if I’m forced to go months without you. I swear to God, there’s nothing more stress-relieving than being balls deep inside of your perfect little pussy.”
His voice had gone deep and husky, and you could feel his dick growing hard against your leg once again. Butterflies set off inside your stomach at his words, his tone. His one hand tightened its hold around your waist while the other guided your face towards his, his nose tracing yours.
“You’re so dramatic.” you whispered, your lips hardly brushing his.
Jisungs hand held your head in place as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You immediately melted into his touch, his scent, his taste as he opened his mouth and ran his tongue along yours lazily.
“Not dramatic. Just hopelessly in love.” he whispered as he pulled away and beamed up at you, his eyes sparkling with that familiar look of lust and love and happiness. You pulled further away from him and prodded his mole again with your finger, deciding it was your favourite thing to do.
“And what happens when this honeymoon phase ends Ji?” you questioned with a quirk of your brow. Jisung turned his head and caught your finger between his teeth, biting it playfully as his hand began tracing the curvature of your ass.
“Oh trust me. It never will. You’re my destiny, Jagiya.”
You practically swooned.
“Damn,” you breathed, fanning yourself dramatically, ignoring the flush that engulfed your cheeks and spread to your ears. “You love me that much?”
Jisung squeezed your ass into the palm of his hand, unintentionally pulling you against his hardening dick.. You could see the heat and desperation growing in his darkening eyes, causing a ball of fire to brew in the pit of your stomach.
“More than you’ll ever understand y/n. My love for you is like an eternal flame. It burns brighter than the sun and hotter than any desert on earth. It is truly and utterly endless.”
At his confession, you moved to abruptly straddle his waist, his words igniting a fire in your core. His dick pushed deliciously against your opening. Jisung let out a whimper as you lightly rubbed your pussy against the head of his cock, teasing him as you sent him a knowing smirk.
“You mean like a volcano?” you inquired. The smile that broke out onto Jisungs face would forever be imprinted into your eyelids as he connected the dots to what you were saying. He shook his head at you in awe, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugged you tightly to his chest as he pulled you down onto him. He filled you to the brim in one motion, ripping a loud cry from your throat.
“You’re damn right Princess. Like a Goddamn volcano.”
AHH I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE AT THE END OMG!!
as mentioned in a previous post, I will not be writing/posting a Jisung POV anytime soon, but I do want to eventually do a bonus chapter, whether that be a pov or a time jump, idk yet. i will make an announcement about it closer to the time i do, so watch out for that.
Thank you all so much for reading and joining me on my journey of reposting this fic. As my first one, it is still so dear to my heart and I'm thankful I had that chance to go back and edit what I wanted to. I'm so much happier with this version than the original on my old blog. I hope you all love it as much as I do!
Taglist || @sungshineworld @collisvng @ihrtlix @queen-in-the-shadows @cassidymb121
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#Like A Volcano#Like A Volcano Mini Series#Hannji's Mini Series#han jisung mini series#han jisung x reader#best friend skz#stray kids fic#han jisung fic#skz han#bff skz#LAV by Hannji#han jisung smut#stray kids smut#skz smut
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One-shot Prompt
Title: And if you can forgive, love will truly live
Fandom: BSD -Bungo Stray Dogs
Ship: Dazai x Reader
Prompt: “'Sorry for showing up like this.’ You sighed, your shoulders relaxing in silent defeat. ‘Come in.’”
TW: mentions of death (Oda), mentioned bad home life though not explicit
!Gender of reader is not specified!
A/N: I do plan on making a 2nd part where the reader and Dazai talk things out and get in a relationship, not sure when I'll finish it though
The word count for chapter 1 is roughly 2k
Also, this will be posted on my ao3, link on my master list
You had known Dazai for a long time, perhaps not as long as Chuuya has, but that’s beside the point.
While you had grown up around shady people and been dealing with said shady people’s shady shit pretty much your whole life, courtesy of your shitty, shady parents, you hadn’t actually joined the Port Mafia until you were 17. Two years older than Dazai and Chuuya, but joined the Mafia around roughly the same time Chuuya had.
With your ability, it didn’t take long for you to begin to climb the ranks. It wasn’t like you were trying to specifically reach the rank of executive, but gradually, you crept closer.
About a year and a half after you had joined you had made a name for yourself, and that was also about the time you had met Dazai and Chuuya for the first time during a bigger mission.
You had somehow managed to become something like friends with them on that mission and had become a somewhat regularity to be paired with them on large missions. You were tough enough to handle both their eccentric personalities as well as teasing enough to get along with Dazai and passionate enough to friend Chuuya.
It was a weird trio you had formed, often being the one to defuse them when they began to bicker. And of course, apologizing when they disturbed the everyday citizens with their fighting when the three of you had time off to just be kids.
Over time, you had begun to grow closer and fonder of Dazai, being able to relate to him more often than one probably should, but whatever. Sometimes, the two of you would find each other silently sitting at the docks staring off into nothingness, neither of you would talk, just simply get lost in your endless thoughts while enjoying the presence of someone who was similar enough to understand you.
On one such occasion Dazai had broken the endless silence of the waves below your feet; inviting you to join him to meet with his bar friends. That was when you met Ango and Oda. They were pleasant company and you had found yourself growing attached to them just like you knew Dazai was, though he would’ve probably denied it at the time.
So, when Dazai disappeared one night with no traces, followed by learning of Oda’s death. You knew.
That didn’t make it hurt any less of course. Especially with how his sudden departure shed light on your feelings for him.
While Chuuya presented himself to be finally rid of his presence, you both knew that Dazai leaving had hurt both of you. You had chosen to tell Chuuya Dazai’s reasons for leaving, not wanting the anger of Dazai’s leaving to grow into hatred, besides, Chuuya would’ve pieced it together eventually.
And like that. Everything continued. The Port Mafia didn’t mourn over its losses. Executive duties called.
So, when after 4 years of no contact, to say you were surprised at his being in the ADA would be an understatement.
You hadn’t had the chance to see him yet like Chuuya had but you were there to witness Chuuya’s drunken midnight rant after having invited you over.
“Oh, trust me, he’s as shitty a mackerel as he always has been. He hasn’t changed a bit.” Chuuya slurred off, grumbling under his breath as he laid his head down on the counter.
You were both sitting at the kitchen island, a bottle of some expensive wine brand, open and mostly empty now, was on the counter between you.
You sat with your body facing Chuuya, your head resting in your palm, elbow against the counter.
“Mhm. He hasn’t changed a bit huh?” You spoke more for the simple sake of speaking, entertaining the drunk man before you. You didn’t need clarification of something you already knew.
Dazai had always been capable of doing good. He just didn’t care between doing good or bad, it made no difference to him. He’s only working for the light because it’s what Oda wanted. Dazai not changing wasn’t a surprise. So Chuuya’s following words were a little less than expected.
“Actually…” He paused, slurring off again before clarifying his words, his head remained poised on the counter. “He looked… brighter?” He seemed to question his own words before continuing. “Brighter and healthier. He seemed…” Chuuya trailed off again but not due to his drunken state. He stopped himself from finishing his train of thought.
“Happier?” You finished for him.
He didn’t respond.
After that, you had practically forgotten about Dazai now being in the ADA, too busy with missions and the seemingly never-ending, growing stack of paperwork.
That was until tonight.
It had been a grueling past few days, rainy weather, long meetings, missions to assign, missions to report and file, and of course your endless stack of shitty paperwork that had somehow found itself in your home office, taking up even more of your own time which was already short considering your importance to the Mafia.
After you got home, sometime around the dead-ass crack of dawn, you had only grabbed a cup of coffee, one of the larger mugs you owned, before heading to your office for more work.
Sometime, while in the middle of reviewing some report, you had fallen asleep, lulled by the endless pitter-patter of rain hitting the window in your office.
You had slept most of the day away and upon waking, it had already grown dark outside, probably around 9 or 10 at night now, and you were thankful to whatever divine being had granted you a day off today because you would have been so fucking late. You chose to willfully ignore that Mori-san was technically the one who made your schedule. He was a good boss, competent in his decisions, but he was no divine being.
Stretching in your chair, you could feel the soreness of your muscles from the previous day of work. There was a tightness in your back, worse than it normally was, courtesy of sleeping in your chair.
A knock sounded on your door, soft when it made its way to your ears but still clear as it cut through the silence of the penthouse you called home.
You dragged your body to your door, still completely dressed head-to-toe in your typical Mafia outfit with the addition of a few wrinkles, your shoes clacking noisily on the floor.
“Coming!” You called out before the person waiting behind your door could think to knock again.
Reaching your door, you work through your security system before opening your door, behind, a man you hadn’t seen for 4 years.
Your tiredness slipped away from your body as you gasped. Your body now on alert as you stared at him.
He was dressed in, presumedly, his ADA outfit, light in color. His bandages still covered his neck, probably the rest of his body, but the ones that used to cover his eye were gone. He had clearly gained weight since you had last seen him, though he still lacked a significant amount of meat on his bones someone his age and height should have.
Chuuya was right, he looked happier. No. That was wrong. He didn’t look happy. He looked… sad? Guilty?
They weren’t emotions you were familiar with seeing on him. Sure, you had seen both emotions on people in the Mafia during interrogations… but on Dazai? No. He hardly ever even faked them.
He did look brighter though. Healthier.
He also looked- no was drenched. His clothes were darkened by the rainwater still pouring outside. Dripping water on the carpeted floor. You could see a few dark spots on the floor down the hall, marking his trail.
He beat you to a response.
“Sorry for showing up like this.”
You sighed, your shoulders relaxing in silent defeat. “Come in.”
You stepped to the side, letting him in.
You closed the door behind him as he observed the expensive and modern decorations. It lacked any personality, at least to an untrained eye. If one looked closer, you could make out a knick-knack here or there that didn’t quite fit the rest of the rather drab decorations.
It lacked vulnerability.
Your bedroom, though, where only you went into, your interests bled out.
“I assume your room has more personality than this, no?” Dazai’s tone was off. A half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood.
“Vulnerability isn’t something Mafia Executives have the luxury to indulge in often.”
He didn’t respond.
“You can hang your coat on the rack.” You spoke, staring at his back as he walked into your home. “And take your shoes off.”
You turned down the hall towards your room, leaving Dazai to settle.
As you walked you called out to Dazai, not facing him. “I should have some clothes that fit you.” Then as an afterthought, “I want you to take a shower.”
When you walked back into the living room with some clothes, Dazai had actually listened, his coat was hung up and his shoes were in the genkan, he had also taken off his socks, probably soaked after being out in the rain.
You walked up to him, handing him the clothes. “Go take a shower. There should be some rolls of bandages in there, though I’m not sure how many I have left.”
He took the clothes from you silently, then: “Thank you.”
You looked him in the eyes, trying to discern how much you didn’t know about him anymore. How much you needed to learn about him.
“Have you eaten?” You spoke calmly, trying to ignore the thoughts and feelings swirling inside you without end.
“I-…” He hesitated. “No. I haven’t.”
Without another word, you left him to go take a shower. It was probably a good idea to make something to eat anyway, considering you were currently running off of a single cup of coffee.
You decided to not bother to cook and instead pulled out two packets of ramen in part because you were still tired as fuck, and you didn’t know if Dazai’s eating habits had changed or not.
It was better to settle for something simple that he might eat if you were lucky.
It didn’t take long for the ramen to finish heating up and for you to place it in two bowls so you placed them on the table. You were about to go check on Dazai when he turned the corner into the living room.
Something was off, he had changed into the clothes you got for him, and his hair was still wet, dripping water off of his soft curls. He seemed… hesitant -nervous? More so than he had been before taking a shower.
“I made ramen.” You spoke, realizing you had been looking for a bit too long. You gestured to the table with the two bowls full of still steaming ramen.
“Thank you…” His voice was quiet, low. He clearly wasn’t bothering to hide his hesitancy, or perhaps he was just failing miserably in trying.
You sat down at one end of the table and busied yourself with eating. You watched him shift over to the seat adjacent to you.
Your eyes widened in upon noticing. “You’re not wearing your bandages?”
He shifted in his seat, avoiding your gaze.
“The hoodie and shorts are soft…”
The ‘and I trust you’ went unsaid but understood.
Your face softened around the edges.
“Eat.”
He responded with a nod before picking up his chopsticks.
Soon enough you had finished your food, and though Dazai only ate half, it was more than you were expecting him to eat. You placed your dishes in the sink to deal with another time before returning to the table, though you remained standing. Dazai had yet to get up.
“Do you want to watch something? I have a day off so…” You trailed off awkwardly.
He looked up but he didn’t quite meet your eyes.
“Sure.”
The only light currently on was the blue light emitted from the television that was playing some show you were hardly paying any more attention to. After a few episodes, you had shifted from sitting awkwardly on opposite sides of the couch to where Dazai was now practically lying on top of you. He was lying his head on your chest with his face turned towards the screen, invested in whatever show it was that was playing. You had let him pick. You were far more interested in watching as he relaxed into you as you ran your fingers through his now, mostly dry, curls.
“Tired?” Your voice no more than a whisper.
“No…” He responded; a hint of a tired whine interlaced in it. A tone his voice always had when he was tired just didn’t want to sleep in lieu of whatever he was currently doing, which at the moment was watching a show while cuddling with someone he hadn’t seen in 4 years.
“Sure~.” You teased as your nails gently scratched at his scalp.
He grumbled something softly into your chest.
You knew how bad, how dangerous your next thought was. It could end badly for both of you, but you couldn’t help when the words slipped from your tongue.
“Why don’t we go to bed hm?”
He responded with an unintelligible whine, pressing his face further into your chest, as he wrapped his lanky arms around your back.
You sighed softly but even if he had clearly put on more weight, he still wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight against you physically speaking. You gathered what remaining strength you had in you as you wrapped your hands around his waist before shifting to a sitting position. Then you secured your arms under him to lift him up in your arms.
“Come on, you lanky beanpole. Time for bed.”
The talk could wait for tomorrow, after all, he couldn’t leave with his clothes still in the washer.
#bsd#bungo stray dogs#dazai bsd#bsd dazai#minor angst#kinda fluff#at the end at least#and with dazai being willingly vulnerable#dazai x reader#reader x dazai#readers gender not specified#bsd fanfic#bsd chuuya
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Between the walls of Ba Sing Se
Contents: Role-swap AU, verbal fights (on Zuko's part at least), Katara angst, lots of introspection, tension so thick you could cut it, mentions of the Painted Lady, Pre-relationship Zutara, Katara is mid-redemption arc, She's working in a teashop with her gran-gran.
A/N: This is an extra set in the same universe of this fic, I wanted to explore the characters more before making the decision of actually writing zutara into the fic. I appreciate constructive criticism, you can send me an ask if you want to discuss anything abt this fic.
“Playing pretend, Princess?” It hurts because he's saying it, because they both know it has truth to it, because somehow, he knows her.
Word count: 881
It's a long long way
To Ba Sing Se
But the girls in the city
They look so pretty
It’s weirdly peaceful, cathartic even, or at least as peaceful as customer service can get. Still, Katara finds herself content with this existence, this life she and her grandmother had made for themselves. She likes the tea, likes their house, likes the pai-sho, and if she ever needs a little more adrenaline, she has The Painted Lady.
But then he comes along, rattles her peace, shakes her to her very core; that ruthless reminder of her every mistake.
And she’s so unlucky, because out of all the Avatar's friends, Zuko is the one who isn’t afraid to go toe to toe with her. Sure, his sister had the raw power, but he had the technique, the balance, and the knowledge of… well her.
“Playing pretend, Princess?” It hurts because he's saying it, because they both know it has truth to it, because somehow, he knows her. And she doesn’t know how to answer, not anymore. She looks away, outside the alleyway behind the shop, upwards towards the sky, anywhere but his amber eyes.
“I'm not a princess anymore.” She says, only because she realizes he's waiting for her answer, sizing her up, determining If she’s a threat to be dealt with. She glances at the Dao on his back and wishes she had the courage to learn something like that, she wonders where he did.
“Oh? What are you, then?” There’s so much venom in his words, so much hatred, and she’s just starting to realize that she does deserve that, she has caused him nothing but suffering… And once again she can’t answer him, because of his hate, or was it her own hate? It poisons her veins, clogs her throat. And because she doesn’t know it just yet. Who is she if not Princess Katara of the Southern Tribe? Who was she then? Who is she now?
She leans further into the shadows of the alley, hoping they engulf her, wanting to run, but unable to run from his burning embers. “I don’t know…” She admits in a whisper, hoping he doesn’t hear it, hoping he leaves.
“Really? Because I could have sworn someone called you by Kya today, is that a new trick of yours?” And that she can’t stand. She steps forward, fists curling and posture changing so fast that Zuko, despite himself, is taken aback, and raises a hand to his sword hilt.
“Don’t say that name like that!” She bites. “You can spit my name with as much poison as you want, but not that one! Don’t come again. Leave me alone!”
She’s back inside the teashop, fast as a tidal wave.
Zuko stands there, hand firmly gripping his dao, for a good few seconds before his body finally allows itself to relax; he exhales slowly and leaves the alleyway, and he ignores his shaky hands, ignores how the girl he’s used to focus all his hate on had looked so… fragile.
He can handle her being a threat, he can handle all the scars and scratches she’s given him, that he’s given her, but he can’t handle the hurt in her eyes, he can’t afford to let his empathy get the best of him, not during war. He can’t let his guard down.
And yet… Once he finds his way back to the upper ring he finds himself slipping into the brooding and introspective manners he often does whenever he's shaken by something.
So he trains.
This is a newer habit, one that came after they started their journey. Now he trains every time he has a particularly harsh dilemma, and during those training sessions he makes sure that the moon is his only companion. In this particular situation though, the moonlight distracts him, because it also reminds him of her.
She’s stronger under the veil of the night, every waterbender is, but she especially is a fearsome thing to behold. He wondered how long it’s been since she could bend in the open, he wondered how it would feel to have to hide such an integral part of oneself.
Zuko has always been a little jealous of her when it came to bending; she had training, experience, she was a fully realized master. All he had was the partial teachings of his uncle, who was often busy running their village and a week of class back when they stayed with Hama, everything else was him improvising, adapting, and pushing forward because he had to. His bending was solely for survival, hers was for fighting, that he had managed to hold his own against her so many times before was a miracle.
And to see such foe so utterly lost, it moved something deep within him, something he couldn’t quite place. He echoed her confusion with each fiery punch and kick of his own, then with each swing of his swords.
Zuko trained until his muscles were sore and his mind was somewhat clear. It was well past one in the morning when he finally sat down near a water fountain, breathing heavily. He didn’t really have a conclusion for his dilemmas.
But he thought he could really go for some tea in the morning.
#asks open#fanfic writing#zutara#atla#midnight writes#zutara au#zutara fanfiction#atla reversed roles#ba sing se#ba sing se zutara#the painted lady#zuko x katara#redemption arc#katara angst#character study#katara#zuko#multishipper
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Omg!!! I live ur writing so much! The way you write eren is like literally perfect!! I was wondering if I could request reader walking home or at a party or just like out somewhere and they notice some people making her uncomfy and they cal eren to pick them up? Some fluff and comfort are my coping mechanism 😭
LMAO STOP THE COPING MECHANISM IS SO REAL💀💀 and ofc bb thankyou so much for the request i love you😋🥰
Im just gonna work off the whole saviour dynamic w eren and hopefully u dont mind
——————
More requests/masterlist
You don’t know why you’re here, you really should’ve just stayed home if only Mikasa hadn’t dragged you out.
“Cmonnnn it’ll be fun, I promise! Even Sasha’s coming!”
You really shouldn’t have listened to her, right now she’s - God knows where - with Sasha playing some obscure drinking game while you’re here sitting on the leather couch already intoxicated yourself.
You felt gross. Sticky even from the sweaty, crowded living room, humidity suffocating you. There was about 5 people on this couch made to fit only 2, you sat there staring down at your stupid sore feet in your stupid stupid heels with stupid strangers grazing your bare legs next to you.
The noise of the room tuned out as your tipsy brain was half conscious until you were snapped back into reality feeling a creeping hand on your shoulder.
Whoever was next to you was apparently speaking for long enough that you don’t know what they’re on about, “— or we could go back to my apartment..”
Your head snaps back up and you anxiously shrug off this guys tacky hand, sobering up just a little bit. Enough to start comprehending things.
“Sorry, I have to go” you say while peeling yourself off the leather, you don’t know where you have to go you just knew to leave because clearly you weren’t functioning well alone.
You turn and almost begin walking away until you almost trip on your stupid heels, this guys hand had gripped your arm rather too harshly to pull you right back onto the couch.
“Hey we were in the middle of something” he slurs, clearly a little more intoxicated than you.
You’re still so lost, why the fuck is he still talking? Why is this room is so hot? This couch is too sticky. His breath smells like shit. Your feet hurt like shit. You’re so tired all you want to do is leave at this point. All of your senses have been overwhelmed you can’t take it.
He continues to ramble nonsense again so you settle to tune it out again, unsure if your feet have the strength to even walk away and give resistance against this random ass guy if he tries anything worse.
You pull out your phone from your unpractically tiny bag and open your messages.
23:16 — Eren
Erenb
Yes this is erenb
Can gou pixk me up
How drunk are you💀
Honestly nor that nuch this tine
Thid guys bortherijf me hurry up ples😋
This guy??
What’s going on?
Donr asknme idek myslef💀💀 hes jusr weirdinf me out
Im coming dw mika sent me the address earlier
Otw
He didn’t lie when he said he’d be quick, honestly Eren was waiting for you to return from the party. He got too bored sitting in your apartment alone watching tv.
You get a call and immediately shoot up knowing Erens arrived. You’re still too drunk to process whatever this guy was doing.
You think he’s following behind you? Who knows? You get out the front door with a cool breeze hitting you. It’s much quieter out here which would be nice if this guy wasn’t still trying to pursue you even after a good ten minutes of radio silence from you.
You feel your body sigh with relief as you spot Eren’s car, you make eye contact with him through the front window smiling. You can slightly see how he grins at your drunken walk in your painful heels until your vision spins to face the guy.
His hand was now on your shoulder and before you knew it Eren was getting out of his car. Whoever this man was he was clearly upset?? Clearly drunk and clearly mad at you. He’s rambling and you still don’t want to listen, hes saying something about you not mentioning you had a boyfriend or anything along those lines?
All you knew is that he was mad, you could feel it in his inebriated grip on your shoulder. Then you start to feel the alcohol coming back up you’re system as his other hand creeps to hold your waist. “Cmon ditch your boyfriend”
Before you can get a word of disgust out you feel familiar arms save you from this repulsive guys hold. Eren shoves his chest as he drunkenly stumbles backwards.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Eren spits out as his arm ushers you to stand a little behind him. He isn’t really one for violence when it’s a complete stranger. He has better things to do than that.
He can tell he’s drunk and after a few nonsensical sentences pour out the guys mouth; Eren’s done eyeing him down with demise so he walks you back to his car while the guy drags himself back to the party.
“Are you alright?” He questions you while rubbing his hand against your arms to warm you up as much as he can walking down the party’s front yard.
“Yeah I’m alright now at least, thank you Eren”
“That guy looked fucking homeless”
You softly smile to yourself, at ease in Eren’s presence. Half the grossness you felt in that stupid party had already began dissolving.
The drive home was quiet, calm. You were dozing off in the passenger seat while you held his free hand in you lap. His thumb swept back and forth until you arrived home. He reaches behind into the back seat, you’re too hazy to question why really. Eren bends over to take off your heels to then slide ur home slippers on.
“I don’t know why you wore those tonight, you know they hurt”
“I know right?!” You huff back at him. He laughs softly at your drunken state and gets out the car. He opens your car door to usher you out and puts his arm around you to help you walk to your apartment.
He lies you down on the couch and tells u to stay which you have no real trouble doing. He returns to the room holding one of his navy blue t-shirts and grey shorts.
“Okay baby, take off ur dress” he says gently.
“At least ask me to dinner first” you retort back. You snicker at your own joke but take off your dress all the same. He slips his shirt and shorts onto you then carries you to your bed effortlessly.
“You’re soo strong, do you have a girlfriend?” you giggle while feeling up his muscular arms. He only laughs at you and quickly leaves to grab something. He returns again, your micellar water in one hand and your toner in the other, “hey which one is the makeup thingy to take it off?” He questions, trying to communicate with whatever sober is left in you. You point to the micellar bottle and he wipes your face with it. The cool water and Eren’s delicate touch was extremely soothing. Although making you even more tired it did sober you up a little more.
Once he’s done, he puts everything down and climbs in bed next to you, pulling the blanket up, he moves you so that you’re on your side and pulls your knee toward him so that your leg is over his legs. He moves his arm to lie under your neck and pulls your whole body nearer with his free hand now on the small of your back.
You inhale deeply the scent of his chest and neck, now intoxicated by his musky scent while his hand slides up to bring your head nearer while he breathes deeply too, face shoved in the top of your head.
He moves to place a chaste kiss on your forehead.“You okay?” He asks, voice just above a whisper.
“Now I am, that guy was weird”, you murmur back still with a face full of chest.
“Yeah he was a fucking weirdo” Eren says, now speaking at a normal volume. “You’re not going alone to those parties anymore, I’m having a word with Mikasa trust”
You laugh at his seriousness and press a kiss to his collar bone, “No laughing I’m serious” he smiles, making space between you too to be able to kiss your collar bone too. He litters playful kisses on your neck. You laugh more while he roughly moves on top of you to only press more ticklish pecks all over you; intentionally smothering you.
You stop him by grabbing both sides of his head and bringing his lips to yours. You kiss him softly while he willingly returns it. He deepens the kiss with his tongue swiping your bottom lip until you open your mouth in the slightest, letting him slip it inside.
#attack on titan#eren jaeger#eren x reader#eren aot#headcanons#eren x you#bf!eren#boyfriend!eren#saviour#eren fluff#eren x reader fluff#aot fluff#comfort#eren comfort#eren x reader comfort#drunk reader#harrassment?
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Charming to Hold
“The Tease”
(Part 1 of 3)
PAIRING: Wrecker x fem reader
SUMMARY: Tech leaves you alone with Wrecker, and though he needs a little encouraging to give you what you want, you and Wrecker FUCK.
WORDS COUNT: 900ish
RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, very spicy, porn with minimal plot, PiV, teasing, oral, stimulation with breasts
NOTES: This is installment twenty-one of my reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3. I wrote it when I got a request for more Wrecker smut. Although it’s written in second person, my heroine has a very established relationship with the Batch.
You’re lying naked on your stomach. Wrecker’s fingers are gently running up and down your back. You’ve spent most of the night like this, either snuggled into his arms or him gently touching you, until you’d fallen asleep.
Earlier that evening, Tech had received a comm from Hunter and had to leave abruptly, but he’d left Wrecker behind, which was highly unusual. You’d never been alone with any of them except Tech.
And this was nice. It’s now a toss up whether or not Tech stays in bed, so Wrecker’s desire for quiet, intimate time has not been indulged recently.
Wrecker is always so gentle with you, but you’re starting to get a little antsy. You turn and wrap yourself around him, hoping he’ll touch you in a different way, but he just drapes his arm over your waist and uses the other to pillow your head.
The morning light is giving his body a particularly beautiful golden hue, and you can’t help but wonder how you got so lucky with these four. Overwhelmed, you kiss him, hard, with longing. You retrieve his hand and press it to your breast. He groans into your mouth, his fingers circling your nipple. You feel his cock twitch against you, but he pulls away slightly, as if embarrassed.
“Hey,” you whisper, “What’s wrong?”
“Tech’s not here.”
“And we aren’t doing anything we wouldn’t do if he was. Well, I do have some errands to run.” That gets a smile from him. “I’m being serious!” you laugh. “We’re going out today.” You stroke his face. “Did you ask him to leave you here? Did you tell him you wanted some time with me?”
“No, he wouldn’t understand.”
You laugh a little. “Oh, I think he understands. And I think he left you here on purpose because of that. So, what would you like to do?” you ask as you snuggle closer again. “And I really hope fucking me is an option.”
He makes a non-committal noise.
You kiss him, keeping your hands chaste but making no apologies for what your thigh is doing. You pause.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” His answer is fast. If he’d hesitated, you would have stopped entirely. “I j’st…I worry I’ll hurt you. I did that first time.” He looks pained.
You can’t with how sweet he is. “I wasn’t used to you yet. Now we’ve spent a lot of time together. And even that first time, you watched Tech fuck me and you liked that, didn’t you?” You feel a little wicked mentioning it. “You came watching him be rough with me. Have you ever fantasized about having me like that?” His growing bulge answers that question.
“Let me know what you think of this.” You slide down his body, pushing him onto his back and releasing his erection from his briefs. He watches you as you lie between his legs, propped up on one of his thighs. You lean over and lick a path from his balls to the tip, smiling as he groans.
“First, I think you should go down on me, take your time, get my pussy soaking wet. And then when I’m ready, I’m going to get on my hands and knees and you’re going to slide this thick cock into me, slowly, just once, to see how much of you I can take.”
You kneel and press his cock between your not-particularly-ample breasts, but they’re clearly enough, as his eyes practically roll back into his head.
“And then, we’re going to go out and run those errands, and I’m going to touch you every time no one is looking, and maybe sometimes when they are, until you have a hard time walking. And when we get back here, I think you won’t want to hold back.” You slowly move so your breasts stimulate his shaft. “I think we walk in, and you’re going to bend me over that couch and fuck me. I think you’ll leave bruises on my hips, and I won’t care. And when you’re done, I’m going to suck your cock until you’re hard again, and you’re going to fuck me until I can’t walk.” You lick his cockhead with just the tip of your tongue until he’s quivering.
“When was the last time you got to really fuck someone, Wrecker? To absolutely pound into a willing pussy? Because, I need you to fuck me until I scream for mercy.” Your tongue swirls around the head and then you release him. You come up onto your knees and slide your hand between your legs. Moments later, he has you on your back, tongue buried inside you.
You let him go slow, you let him do it the way he wants, until you realize you’re getting close, and you stop him. You roll onto your stomach and shakily come up onto your hands and knees.
“Just one stroke, Wrecker. Just so you know how deep you can go.” He practically whimpers in acknowledgment. You feel the head of his cock enter you, and you moan encouragement. He stops, groaning at how tight and hot you feel around him. You push back until you truly can’t take anymore of him, then you pulse your pussy around his cock and hear him pant in pleasure. It takes all your willpower to slide off of him.
“Let’s get those errands run,” you smile. Then with a bit of an edge, “And if you come before me, we will have a problem.”
*
I’m sure I’ll eventually post the rest, but in the meanwhile, here’s the link to Part 2.
Tagging: @yeehawgeek
#wrecker x reader#wrecker x you#tbb wrecker x reader#tbb wrecker x you#tbb wrecker#wrecker bad batch#wrecker smut#Bad batch smut#the bad batch#Wrecker tbb#wrecker the bad batch
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Call Me When You’re Sober
Summary: The scents of aftershave and laundry detergent fought with that of sharp whisky and for a split second, you closed your eyes, pretending that nothing had happened between the two of you, that you were still having silly date nights every weekend like you used to two years ago and that the cold of distance had never moved in alongside with spilling the contents of your moving boxes into his living room.
Pairing: Simon Walker x afab!Reader
Word Count: - 2.3k
Content Warning: Plot With Smut 18+!, Angst Gallore, Hurt/Hardly Any Comfort, Unprotected P In V, Everybody Is Kinda Very Uncomfortable In Here, Mentions Of Alcohol
A/N: Massive thank you to @ohlookapan for indulging into my Simon Walker brain rot!
This is supposed to eventually grow into a multi-chapter thing, but let's see how far we come 🫶🏻
Tagging: @queer-crusader @somethingblu3 @blueberrypancakesworld
Don't cry to me, if you loved me
You would be here with me
You want me, come find me
Make up your mind
- Call Me When You’re Sober By Evanescence
A sharply burning sensation emitted from your tired and weary eyes, the discomfort buzzed through your skull and the sensitive skin of your under-eyes alike, yet, no matter how hard you tried to let your mind wander and dissolve into much-needed sleep, you couldn’t.
With your thoughts racing and a new, uncomfortably hot gush of tears pricking at your tear ducts, you pushed your face into the pillow.
Everything seemed to suck so fucking hard.
Work - shit.
Friend circle - deteriorating rapidly.
Relationship - raging dumpster fire.
No matter how hard you fought to keep it all together, to glue together the sparse things that could be glued back together, that little card house called your life came back crumbling down at the very first breath of inconvenience and misery certainly loved your company as of late.
As the heavy wooden door to the apartment flew shut, leaving the walls to vibrate for a moment, you flinched and groaned, knowing just by the sound of it that trouble was highly likely ahead. Feeling yourself tethering at the edge of patience already, you wanted to hide your head beneath the pillow, to muffle the uncoordinated sounds of your boyfriend stumbling out of his boots and slightly struggling to get his torso out of his coat. He groaned just like you did moments before, complaining under his breath and careening through the corridor whilst your mind depicted the mental image of his nearly terrifyingly tall and lean body having been dulled down, incapacitated to the point where his olive green coat would be found tossed to the floor instead of hung up nicely.
The sound of the door to your shared bedroom being pushed open came to you much more quiet and gentle, at least some decency hadn’t been lost just yet.
“Hey…” You hummed, turning yourself onto your back, choking back a wayward sniffle.
“Still up?” Simon retorted, questioning whilst stating the obvious just the same.
“Can’t sleep.” Your answer came quickly, being fabricated out of the same sense of obviousness.
“Hm.”, Simon hummed, pulling his thin, gray t-shirt over his head and tossing it in front of the nightstand, “What’s up?”
What’s up? You couldn’t keep your jaws from clenching down, teeth gritting in the futile attempt to shove back a sob. The very second the pathetically pained and tortured sound slithered past your lips, Simon’s intoxicated sense of attention was on you.
“What’s going on?” With his fine eyebrows raised into an arch, he flopped himself onto the bed, mattress curving down under his weight as he seemed to cup you with his height, half embrace, half sloppy attempt to find some sort of comfortable position.
Inevitably, it drew you in, pulled you closer to him with the need to simply press your face into his chest and hide away from everything for a moment.
“Everything fucking sucks. What’s up with everybody lately?” Your already heavily strained walls caved down with every word, some of them addressing Simon just as well but that went conveniently right past him.
You turned to the side, body curling up into Simon’s almost embrace in search of comfort. The cold from outside still clung to his fingers and face as he rested his chin atop the crown of your head, slender fingers finding your waist underneath the oversized sleeping shirt loosely covering you.
“It’s the season, I bet. Dark, raining all the time, y’know? Hard to keep up a good mood when it’s pissin’ again outside.” He wasn’t entirely wrong, however, it didn't even begin to cover your struggle in the slightest.
The brief inkling of frustration that had bubbled up in your stomach over it got washed away as quickly as it had formed by the pungent waft of deeply smoky whisky that trickled from Simon’s words. It didn’t actually surprise you anymore, only enraged you a little more every time it happened because he allowed himself to be careless enough to numb it all down, to quite literally drown it all out and be comforted by bottles.
“Yeah, probably.” You shrugged your shoulders in a whim of apathy, the palm of your right brushing over his side, hardly really touching him although everything within craved to do so.
To your surprise, Simon caught the notion. For the duration of a quick peck, he pressed his lips to your hairline and mouthed a swift: “Issok.”
The touch of his skin against the inside of your hand felt off, strange, and almost unfamiliar and the realization hit you like a sour burp, bile gushing up along the root of your tongue, leaving you with a sharp sting. For an uncomfortably long moment, you roamed your memories in search of the last time he’d hugged you or vice versa. It must’ve been weeks already, apparently falling out of familiarity happened quickly.
In a terribly overcompensating fashion to counteract the feelings rising inside your chest, you pulled yourself closer to Simon until your face was snuggly nuzzled into the curve of his neck. The scents of aftershave and laundry detergent fought with that of sharp whisky and for a split second, you closed your eyes, pretending that nothing had happened between the two of you, that you were still having silly date nights every weekend like you used to two years ago and that the cold of distance had never moved in alongside with spilling the contents of your moving boxes into his living room.
“Can’t we just leave? Drive and don’t look back?” You hummed into the crook of his neck, the tip of your nose brushing against his skin softly.
“I wish, but I doubt that’s how it works.”, Leaning into your touch, timidly following your invitation, Simon led his hand to wander along your stomach, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not like it’s your fault, love.” Was it not, though? Your little, saccharinely sweet white lie prompted the corners of your mouth to twitch downwards.
You were fucking yourself over and all it took was Simon to so much as breathe in your vicinity. You really dared to cry unto yourself about everything being shitty lately, about his actions or much rather the lack thereof tearing you up from the inside but what were you doing in all this? Pampering him in moments you could very much speak up.
A quick, low hum of his got lost in your temple, the vibrations of his uttering sending a wash of goosebumps down your body. The physical reaction was followed suit by your breath hitching in the back of your throat as his hand crept up for the pad of his thumb to trace along the curve of your breast.
It took but this barely even there crumb of affection, already more than you’d expected to be subjected to anytime soon, for you to feel like you were dissolving. Any sort of reason or proper critical thinking turned into mush the very second Simon’s lips inched down to reach your cheek, coaxing you to lift your chin from his shoulder and turn your face towards his.
“Simon..:” You mouthed his name like a breathless prayer.
He shushed you gently, his mouth now skipping over your cheeks in direct aim to press down onto your lips to shut you up. At that, your stomach started twitching and turning as if you were to board a rollercoaster; nervosity pitted in the depths of it whilst your insides felt like being elevated all the same. Up and up and further up, dangling right on the edge expecting to fall, to be dropped, ripped down into freefall until the ride was over.
Your heart hammered against its ribcage with such vigor that you were certain Simon was aware of it. For a split second, you felt a sense of embarrassment passing you by, triggered by how easily he had you all wrapped around his fingers just by touching you. It set you ablaze with a growing need to feel more of him, to devour him whole if he would just let you, wants and needs clashed within whilst his touch still somehow came unnatural. Something about it was blatantly off, and you tried to drag yourself to care, but your need for quick, cheap escapism posed as way too hungry. He might’ve been sloshed off the whisky so you got drunk on him for the time being.
In the absence of his shirt to find purchase on, you palmed at Simon’s hip, pulling him onto you for you to roll on your back again, shoulders digging into the soft mattress below under the doubled weight. Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist immediately, not planning on letting go anytime soon, not when you felt Simon pressing against your crotch like that and for a moment you sensed all your reasoning leaving your body, your mind effectively going blank, in the very second your other hand tugged at the elastic of his shorts with a sense of greed and hunger that would’ve left you speechless about yourself under sane circumstances.
Simon didn’t stop you as your nails lightly scratched along his lower back and neither did he pull his hand from groping at your breast, thumb flicking over your pebbled nipple repeatedly, eliciting quiet moans to trickle from your lips into his mouth, drinking them all up.
You arched your back from the sheets, pressing your front against his chest for your other hand to shove and tear at the delicate fabric of your slip, dragging it past the round of your behind until you could awkwardly shimmy out of it, heels nudging and scratching along Simon’s waist.
“No need to beat me to it.” Your boyfriend laughed in a weirdly dry tone, trying to take the edge off his very own comment but it pricked uncomfortably regardless.
“Sorry…” You muttered in return, the sour sting dampening the momentum of the situation for a brief instant.
“ ‘M just messing with you.” The tip of his nose nudged yours softly, stroking along the bridge until his lips left a gentle peck in the space between your slightly crinkled brows, aiming to smoothen them out again.
Instead of addressing them, you decided to leave his words hanging in the dark air of the bedroom, waiting for them to slowly and most of all silently evaporate into oblivion. The only hushed sounds quietly echoing from the tapestry- and picture-adorned walls now were the hasty shuffling of fabric and shallow breaths, a poorly choked back moan that pushed a watery sheen to glaze over your eyes as Simon drilled himself into you.
The sensation of being stretched out like that, skin against skin and heart to heart came painstakingly foreign to you. You were well aware of how soft, bendy silicone or your own fingers felt when you hid yourself away for a quick stress release in the bathroom but having Simon above you - inside you - threatened to overwhelm you with its intensity. It very much wasn’t a matter of you being wet enough or not, yet it nearly pained you to be so full of him, your mind suddenly acting in dissonance to a body that couldn’t get enough after being starved of attention and affection alike.
“You okay?” Simon whispered to you sweetly, sounding as if he actually cared, as he rolled his hips into your lap.
“Uh-huh.” You pressed between slightly quivering lips, your body awash with the pressing need to just let him work you, to finally fuck the doubt out of you so you wouldn’t have to deal with it all by yourself all the goddamn time.
You wanted Simon to use you for a little while because that would’ve given you at least a fake sense of purpose in this gradually deteriorating clown show of a relationship.
“Fuck me,” You muttered with your lips moving against his collarbone.
“What?” Simon halted and it made you want to cry out in strained patience and desperation.
“Fuck me, please, rail me into the mattress, whatev-” You got cut off unexpectedly, the air being plowed out of your lungs by Simon having very much understood and now doubling down.
For a moment you felt like choking on your breath, air getting stuck in your throat that tried to exhale just as much as groan into his smooth check as he pinned you down against the sheets with the weight of his body, effectively pushing past the border of emotional overstimulation with much more primal needs eventually taking over.
You’d pleaded unto him to make you forget, to properly fuck you into the next day and that’s what he did with reckless abandon. In this state of fragile ecstasy, you clawed at Simon’s sky, leaving red marks with your fingernails all across his waist whilst teeth latched into the firm muscles of his chest. With everything you held on to him, allowing yourself to be taken away by comfortably numbing surges of pleasure for as long as Simon towered above you, spreading your legs with the width of his hips until you couldn’t feel them anymore.
#simon walker#simon walker x reader#simon walker smut#simon walker x you#hollyoaks#neil newbon#neil newbon fanfic
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