#by the time my mother was my age she was married and planning on having me
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honeyxmooncalves · 3 days ago
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About my MC, Dorothea Larch!
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Date of birth : 14th April 1875
Family: Her parents are both living and well and they are both British, but her mother was from a sacred 28 family before being disowned when she married Thea's father. Her father works as an Aurologist, and is often away from home. She is an only child.
Background: She lives in the same village as the Weasleys, and grew up with Garreth as a kind of brother figure, since they are the same age. She and her mother practically live with the Weasleys, being next-door neighbours and having known them since her and Garreth's mother were students at Hogwarts (and were close friends). Since Thea's magic awoke later than expected, she was taught by her mother how to read, write and basic arithmatic, since she couldn't get a proper education, as a girl who couldn't afford a governess. However, still wildly praying that she would somehow gain her powers miraculously, she pilfered magic theory books from around her house, learning them by heart. Still living in a magic-filled environment, she encouraged and aided Garreth in his very first experimental potions, and the two of them plan to open shop together as potioneers (although they should probably work on their potions a bit more before then).
Appearance: She is 5'3'', has curly/wavy blonde hair, grey eyes, relatively pale skin, a scar from her upper neck to lower right cheek from an accident when she fell out of her treehouse ( which of course was because Garreth broke the ladder and forgot to tell her), and moles under her ear and on her neck.
Wand: Birch, Unicorn hair, 11 1/2 inches.
House: Gryffindor, but the hat almost put her in Hufflepuff.
Hobbies: Reading (obsessed with Thomas Hardy), potioneering, in secret of course, music and singing, writing poetry.
Things she hates: Flying - she says it's because broomsticks are highly impractical and 'it's just so much easier to walk or floo', but really, she is too scared to go more than a metre off the ground. Peas, swimming, Ignatia Wildsmith, although she loves floo flames,
Favourite subjects : Charms, Defence, Herbology
Least favourite subjects: H.O.M, flying, Astronomy
Personality: sweet, mischievous but calculated, stubborn, practical.
Random facts: she has a squirrel called Cricket, but he is nicknamed Huckleberry because Garreth wouldn't stop teasing her about the fact that she tamed a squirrel, and Huckleberry was the name of a squirrel from a wizard fairytale children's book, and the name just stuck.
She cannot cook at all, her passion for experimentation in potions may have crossed over into her baking skills (or lack thereof).
She gets incredibly avoidant of Sebastian at first, because she is determined not to make friends with ‘reckless cool boys’, and also because she doesnt want her immediate crush to turn into anything more. Natty and Garreth find her stubborn denial very amusing.
She secretly visits Anne after meeting her at first. It begins with a few letters checking on how she is because Thea is worried that she gets lonely and is also ignored by her stupid uncle, but when Anne asked her to visit for small picnics when Solomon is out, she agreed and now she tries to check up on Anne at least once every two weeks. Let's hope Sebastian doesn't find out, lest he get jealous.
She has an obsession with flowers, and does nearly everything in her garden whenever she's home. She has frequently been found asleep on the bench a few times, and reprimanded by her mother because the garden gnomes had bitten the hem of her dress.
Do let me know if you’d like to know anything more, because a few people asked me for Thea lore, and if this wasn’t satisfactory then please say- i also love just rambling about her.
Ps the sketch above is Thea before hogwarts but about to join- she’s at home deep in thought.
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phanfictioncatalogue · 2 days ago
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Fics Including Kathryn Lester (2) Masterlist
part one
a matched set (ao3) - cityofphanchester
Summary: “Mum,” he says, and his voice sounds like a balloon about to burst from happiness. “Mum, would you do me a favor.”
(a mother's view of the christmas adventure)
All the Ways to Phil Lester's Heart (ao3) - orphan_account
Summary: During Christmas Eve with his family, Phil reflects on all the ways to his heart
Always Yes (ao3) - LetGladnessDwell
Summary: In this universe, Dan and Phil spend all their money to move to London, betting everything that their pitch to the BBC for a weekly radio show will succeed. It doesn’t.
And I know the yearning will always remain (ao3) - Kavat
Summary: Kathryn drops off Phil and Dan at the train station.
bittersweet joy (ao3) - starlight_kth
Summary: dan and phil spend christmas away from each other with their families and phil has some very strong feelings about it, but a skype call with dan always warms him up.
bundle up, baby (ao3) - angelmichelangelo
Summary: dnp taking their little kid for the first time to the iom for christmas
there's nothing more exciting than a child's first christmas
can i wake up with you? (ao3) - dvp_95
Summary: Phil isn't bad at talking about his feelings, he just does it very differently than Dan does.
Chosen Family (ao3) - Mysticallykai
Summary: After Dan comes out at fifteen, his parents don't pay him any mind. At sixteen, when he goes to his first pride, he meets Kath Lester. She becomes like a mother to him, and when his boyfriend hurts him, he goes to her for help. He wasn't aware that he would finally meet her youngest son, nor that Phil would be someone so special to him.
clouds parting (ao3) - cityofphanchester
Summary: Phil’s never been good at thinking things over while in motion, not the way that Dan is. But the first pieces of the decision happen then, making his way down rain-soaked pavements, everything a steely, soggy gray.
(secret holiday, autumn ‘21)
cradled by the bare sky (ao3) - Tarredion
Summary: (COTY inspired)
“What did you want, mum?” he asks, the words a mere whisper, his lips curving into a quivering smile. He stays where he is, one hand resting on the frame. Both of the gestures break her heart. She knows he wants to get the truth out there, as they’ve had a silent agreement for quite some time, but seems too scared to try.
Fresh Fake Coffee (ao3) - yikesola
Summary: Dan hadn’t heard Mrs. Lester when he was upstairs, but she’s stirring instant coffee grounds into a long row of mugs: four, one for every person in the house.
A ficlet about sips and welcomes.
growing up or just going down (ao3) - SylvesterLester
Summary: Phil is 15 years old today. He's going to have the best birthday of his life, to kick off the best year of his life.
Right?
Happy Birthday My Love (ao3) - phansuniteinluv
Summary: It's Phil's 33rd birthday!!! Laughter, fun, and a birthday proposal that Dan has been planning for ages!
home for christmas (ao3) - danhoweiis
Summary: kath and dan have a chat on christmas day
I'd marry you (with paper rings) (ao3) - Tarredion
Summary: Maybe learning calligraphy was of greater importance to Phil, and them, than Dan first thought
It Hits Different (ao3) - danisnotinteresting
Summary: I really have no summary for now, just read the tags please
kiss you until your lips turn blue (ao3) - orphan_account
Summary: Dan's confused about who he is, but what he knows is that he finds the quiet boy in his friendship group very pretty.
Leave it to stew (ao3) - chiridotalaevis
Summary: They weren’t, you know, hiding that Dan was here, but perhaps Kath didn’t need to see slightly slobbery faces (don’t judge, Phil is just a very enthusiastic kisser), Dan’s bright red cheeks and Phil’s slightly untucked pants. They just were not exactly Kath presentable at this moment.
Lucky (ao3) - starlight_kth
Summary: Dan and Phil are at a Lester family party with their two children: Emily, 7 and Colby, 2. Phil spends the night twirling them both on the dance floor and Dan spends the night watching his husband and wondering how he got so lucky
mama's boy (ao3) - angelmichelangelo
Summary: when phil said kath had put up that shout poster in his bedroom when he came home for christmas :3
no matter how old phil gets, he's still babied by his mum
maybe this christmas (ao3) - blackbirddan
Summary: In all the years they've known each other, Dan and Phil have never been able to spend Christmas Day together. And it's looking like they still can't, even with how much things have changed this year. Unless...
a.k.a. Dan’s family spend Christmas in the Isle of Man.
My Spirit Love (ao3) - MySecretsX
Summary: If you fall in love with a spirit who drains you both away, do you live together for twenty years, or stay alone each day?
Phil has lived in his house since he was born, but it was when he turned seven he met Dan for the first time. It's all childish games and the muse of a naïve brain until your fifteen-year-old son claims to have fallen in love with the boy you've never seen.
Is anything possible for love?
newlyweds on Christmas Eve (ao3) - Tarredion
Summary: “Come inside! Nigel and I have been waiting all of December for our new son-in-law!”
no matter how far away you roam (ao3) - possumdnp
Summary: Some things will never change, like Dan and Phil video calling each other from their family homes over Christmas.
not a lot, just forever (ao3) - blossomsphan
Summary: “intertwined, sewn together
not a lot, just forever” - adrianne lenker
working through the feels post-hospital incident ❤️‍🩹
now i smile and face the girl who shares my name (ao3) - plinth_of_life
Summary: kath meets her newborn granddaughter.
party for two (ao3) - SylvesterLester
Summary: Dan has only had five birthdays before this one. And he can't really remember the first three of them. But he knows this has to be the worst one yet.
Pretty Guy (ao3) - Archive (Curlylinguist)
Summary: Drinking as a coping mechanism is not Phil’s usual style, but then, he reasons, neither is spontaneously tagging along on an entirely unplanned night out with a bunch of strangers after the bizarre high of a successful publishing meeting. And all just because a pretty boy asked him to.
Or, Phil stumbles across a Pride rally and a certain curly-haired queer activist catches his eye.
songbird (ao3) - jestbee
Summary: a post-apocalyptic coffee shop au
Staring at the Sea (ao3) - Allthephils
Summary: Dan wears a braided chain made of finest silver from the north of Spain, a locket that bears the name of the man that he loves.
The Gaming Video. (ao3) - iamalwaystired
Summary: dan and phil decide to bring back the gayming channel with dab and evans wedding video. basically just fluff for 6k words,
The Scent of Pining (ao3) - americanphancakes
Summary: Dan and Phil grew up together, but were separated by university and the mundanities of life. After years of missing each other, keeping track of each other's careers, and asking their families about each other, they finally reunite at a Christmas party back home. Surrounded by fragrances that cast their memories back to their childhood together, they each work up the nerve to finally do something about how they've been feeling for a decade.
together we sang (ao3) - orphan_account
Summary: "When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth." -Billy, age 4
Two Faces, One Fear (ao3) - R3ad3r1
Summary: Phil collapses due to his head hurting, as the pain does not subside he has to go to the hospital.
Let's have a look at Phil and Dan's emotional journey until they discover why Phil collapsed.
Wagon Wheel (ao3) - SylvesterLester
Summary: Is there enough room in Wagon Wheel for Phil's saloon and Sheriff Howell's city-slickin' ways?
"we gotta be brave" (ao3) - wednesday_ukiru
Summary: Six year old Phil misbehaves – and quickly becomes convinced he’s going to get picked up by Mrs. Fuse’s adoption agency. Instead, he meets a boy.
Weight on my Shoulders (ao3) - ByTheFire
Summary: When Phil starts getting some unexpected gifts from his dad he starts to worry if he knows something he is not ready to share. Thankfully Dan is there to make it all a bit less scary. All Phil can hope is his dad doesn't want to change who he truly is.
welcome, love (ao3) - angelmichelangelo
Summary: coming out isn't easy, but it's a little less shit when you're surrounded with family
What We Are to Each Other (ao3) - orphan_account
Summary: So maybe they both suck at communication. Maybe Dan needs to talk to Phil about what they are to each other. And maybe Phil needs to sit his parents down and tell them that big, slightly scary thing about himself. But maybe it'll all work itself out, one way or another.
wrecking ball (ao3) - bloodyscarab
Summary: you gotta wanna break the hearts
of all those pretty porcelain dolls
Yours, Absolutely, Positively (ao3) - JudeAraya
Summary: Like so many things in his new life, Dan was coming to understand that Phil was the only exception.
~Christmas 2009~
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knight-engale · 1 year ago
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it is very very hard to not feel like a failure right now. maybe i am and i've been tricking everyone into thinking i'm not.
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maidragoste · 3 months ago
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Aerion
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Age up!Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader (Daeron's twin sister)
Part 3 of I miss you
I honestly didn't think it would take me more than a year to decide if I wanted this to have a happy ending or not lol
Reblogs, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated. comments always motivate me to continue writing 🥹🙏🏻💖
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
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The gods are cruel, Alicent Hightower thought as she watched her youngest daughter enter the throne room. The plan was that Larys would get you out of here with Aegon, Jaehaera, and Maelor but of course, the cursed baby had to ruin everything again. You went into labor and couldn't get away.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” said Alicent, horrified as she saw how the traitorous golden cloaks escorted you. It was obvious that you had barely finished giving birth and were brought here to swear loyalty to Rhaenyra. They hadn’t had the decency to let you clean yourself or wait for you to rest. Your always perfect hair was now a mess. Sweat and blood could be seen on your nightgown and legs. Not only that, but you looked like you were about to collapse. If it weren’t for the master holding your body, you probably would have fallen. Even though you wanted to appear strong, Alicent knew you and could see that you were confused and scared. No one should see a princess like that.
Alicent wasn't the only one horrified by the situation. Rhaenyra was too, remembering how she once had to bring Joffrey to the queen after his birth.
But the most shocked one was Jacaerys. For months he had been going crazy because no one could get any information about you, worried about your well-being and it turns out that you were pregnant with his child. He had no doubt that the baby you hold against your chest was his because he knew that if it were another man your family would have instantly made you marry but when it was him, Jacaerys Velaryon, Rhaenyra Targaryen's bastard, they hadn't wanted the news to spread.
“This is a shame! We are dealing with a princess of the kingdom!” said Jacaerys furiously at the guards as he approached you, drawing the attention of the court and disturbing the newborn.
“¹Ziry iksos sȳz, ziry iksos sepār aōha kepa,” you whispered, trying to reassure your baby. Jacaerys had missed hearing your voice so much but what moved him most was being called Kepa for the first time. He never thought it would be possible to have this with you, of course it wasn’t the best time being in the middle of a war and the child having been born out of wedlock, but he couldn’t help but feel happy. Was it wrong that after months of so much misery and loss, he felt happy to know that now in the world there was someone who was half the woman he loved the most and half his?
“Ñuha jorrāelagon, ivestragī nyke gūrogon ao naejot aōha chambers. Ao should clean bē se rest” Jacaerys said, ignoring the glances of his mother and stepfather. He knew he would have to have a conversation with them later, but right now all he cared about was you.
You nodded, moving away from the maester and Jacaerys took you in his arms and lifted you being as careful as possible. You felt your body relax as you rested your head against his shoulder. Finally, after months you felt something other than sadness and fear, you felt warm and safe with Jace. You needed him so much during all this time.
Alicent hated Rhaenyra's bastard for dishonoring you, with this scene everyone would now know that your son was his bastard, but as she watched you leave the room in his arms she couldn't help but feel grateful to him for being the only one to come to your defense. She knew you would be safe from Rhaenyra as long as Jacaerys was by your side, he wouldn't allow anything to happen to you.
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As soon as the handmaidens left, your old handmaidens before you got pregnant, you burst into tears. Of course, as they helped you bathe you and your baby, you filled them with questions about what had happened during all those months that you were locked away. You knew there was war in your family but it was still a shock to hear about the deaths. You were shocked to hear what they did to your nephew Jaehaerys. Poor Helaena, poor Aegon. Your dear brother was the only one who had mercy on you and came to see you during your confinement. You thought he was angry with you when he stopped coming but in reality, it was because he ended up so wounded in battle that now Aemond is Prince Regent.
The doors opened again, startling you and you instantly rushed to wipe the tears on your face with your hands. Not wanting to show yourself weaker in front of Rhaenyra and Daemon. You turned around and your body relaxed when you saw that it was Jace. The maids must have told him that both you and the baby were already clean. You didn’t think he would come until later. You were sure he would be busy for hours being questioned by his mother and your uncle.
“We will marry and my mother will legitimize our son,” Jacaerys announced, approaching you with a smile, but you could still see the tiredness on his face. You had no idea how he had managed to convince Rhaenyra to accept, but it couldn’t have been easy or a pleasant conversation. He must have had to endure everyone’s reproaches. “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking at you worriedly when he noticed that you were crying.
“Is it safe for us to do that?” you asked instead. You should be happy after all, you always wanted to marry Jaehaerys but now you were just worried “Won’t it make Daemon even angrier? I don’t want our child to end up like Jaehaerys or for Daemon to end up poisoning me so you can continue your engagement to Baela.”
Jacaerys tensed at your words. And his head began to fill with different scenarios with you and the baby hurt or worse dead. He couldn’t bear to live with himself if that happened. He already lost his brothers, he couldn’t bear to lose you and his child. “That’s not going to happen” he declared caressing your hip. “I won’t allow anything to happen to you or our child. I will fight with fire and blood to protect you.”
“We will fight with fire and blood,” you corrected him.
He smiled at you and you couldn’t take it anymore. You kissed him, like you had dreamed of doing for all these months and it felt even better than you remembered. It was intoxicating, passionate, and warm. You wanted to kiss him forever, you would never get tired of the taste of his lips or his touch. You could feel his love and devotion for you and you loved him.
Then the baby started crying and the two of you instantly pulled apart. The two of you looked at each other before laughing at each other for being so scared by a simple cry.
“Can I hold him?”
“Of course,” you replied, feeling your heart race as you watched him take the baby out of the crib. You had thought that Jace would never meet his son and now you were witnessing him holding him in his arms for the first time. Thank goodness you were alone or you would feel foolish for watching with tears in your eyes as Jace held his son.
“What is his name?” Jace asked, staring in wonder into his son’s violet eyes, the same eyes as yours. That seemed to be the only thing you shared because later the baby had his nose and brown hair.
“I haven’t named him yet,” you admitted, feeling embarrassed at the surprise in his eyes. “I was waiting for you to choose his name.”
Of course, you had thought of some ideas during your pregnancy but now that you had Jace by your side you wanted him to choose the name.
“That's kind of you,” he said, feeling touched by such a gesture.
For a brief moment, Jacaerys considered naming him Lucerys but rejected the idea, not wanting his son's name to be laden with sadness and loss. His son is joy and hope in the midst of this dreadful war.
“Aerion,” Jacaerys said finally, kissing his son’s forehead, making a silent promise that he would always keep him safe.
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¹It's fine, it's just your father
²My love, let me take you to your chambers. You should clean up and rest
Taglist: @dornishannie @bellstwd @cookielovesbook-akie @si1versamurai @julimariett @newtmyhusb @dewvenus @alwaysholymilkshake @lokiofasgard12
Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works:
@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1
@joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @partypoison00 @labellapeaky @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15
@impartinghades @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @natashaobo @watercolorskyy @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8
@ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @partnerincrime0 @klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2
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hotd masterlist
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luvyeni · 6 months ago
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GUYS MY AGE ,, 이민호
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pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ lee know x fem!reader wc. 6.2k+
genre. neighbors!au , smut
𓄷 includes ... cheating, unprotected sex, oral ( m. receiving ), literally the mother isn't the only sane person im sorry THIS IS PURE FICTION
「 authors note 𖹭 」 here it is the fic , i hope you like it 😅
❪ masterlist! ❫
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guys your age never really appealed to you— you liked older men— blame it on your daddy issue, you didn't care; something about an older man just made your heart go crazy— and your panties wet.
“you need to find something to do this summer while you're home.” your mother said, you had made your return home from college for the summer, ready to soak up the sun by your pool in the backyard. “how about getting a job, the couple next door is looking for a babysitter for their three kids while they work.”
your mom watched your face scrunch up in disgust. “why would I want to babysit their sticky children?” you scoffed, picking at your freshly painted nails. “how do you plan on making money then?” you sighed, of course you already planned for this. “Mom, don't worry, I've got it all covered.” you smiled reassuringly; and you weren't lying, you did— but could you really tell your mother you planned on getting money from the many older men you managed to seduce during your time at college. “you better, don't just rot in your room all summer.”
“what if i go help the old lady across the street?” you asked standing up to put your dish in the sink. “Will that ease your worries, mother?” of course you didn't want to do it, but it would make your mother happy. “oh i didn't tell you?” she said, you shook your head, telling her to continue. “her children moved her to a nursing home.” you felt your lip curl up into a smirk. “good she was a bitch.” you said, the grumpy old lady could never stay out of your business. “I really would've hated doing that.”
“yeah she was wasn't she?” she chuckled. “Anyways, the couple who moved in there have only been here for about a month; I see the lady when I'm on my way to work.” she said. “The husband I'm pretty sure stays at home and work— you should introduce yourself, let them know who you are.” you really didn't want to; but the look in your mother's eyes, you could tell she wasn't asking you. “Fine, I'll do it later, happy?” your mother turned the water off, kissing your head. “ecstatic, im gonna get ready for work.”
“what are you doing?” jisung spoke through the phone; your bestest friend in the whole world— and your biggest enemy too. “well since you decided to flee the fucking country this summer; leaving me here.” you scoffed. “I'm stuck here rotting in my home.” you saw him smile; you scoffed before he spoke up. “Sorry, it was a last minute trip with felix.” Felix was his boyfriend; his very rich boyfriend. “yeah well while you're being wined and dined throughout europe, i’m stuck here.” you laid flat on your stomach, legs in the air.
“Remember when you left me in the dorms during spring break?” he asked. “And that business man took you to hawaii? consider this as pay back.” you rolled your eyes. “fuck you, that trip was horrible anyway, all he did was work and complain about how much he hated his hate wife— we had sex once the entire trip.” you scoffed. “You got a Gucci bag out of it though.” you hummed; he was right. “best thing to come out of it.”
“oh yeah.” you were now sitting up. “Remember the old lady across the street from me?” you asked. “yeah she was a bitch.” you nodded. “Her kids finally did everyone a favor and put her in a home.” he clapped. “good riddance, so did anyone move in that house?” you hummed. “yeah a married couple, mom wants me to introduce myself, let them know i'll be here for the summer.”
“yeah it would be confusing to see a girl in a skimpy ass bathing suit sunbathing in her front yard.” you shrugged; the sun just hit better in the front of your house. “Keep her husband on a leash, like the rest of the house wives on your street do when they see you coming, I wouldn't be too surprised if they already got to her.” you laughed, you never really cared what those women thought about you; you never really cared about their husbands, it was more so the other way around. “I really don't care about those housewives, their problem is their husbands and their wandering eyes, not me.” You defended.
“I should go introduce myself before my mom gets home.” you said. “Yeah, I have to go, Felix wants to go for food; call you later?” you nodded. “Yeah, if you aren't getting your back blown out.” his face turned red. “He's in the room.” he gritted through his teeth. “hi yn.” you heard his deep voiced boyfriend shout. “Hi Felix.” you laughed. “I hate you so much.” jisung said, you laughed. “Love you too!” You waved goodbye, hanging up the phone.
You didn't bother getting yourself together; throwing on a pair of jean shorts and a tank top— they're your neighbors, the next time you'd see them is when you're dragging your exhausted body back into your home from your morning run, and that's even worse.
you made your way out of your house; knocking on the door of the house, your phone buzzing— jisung sending you a photo of his french cuisine. “lucky bitch.” you typed into your phone. “Bring me back a souvenir from paris.” you didn't bother to look up from your phone, so you didn't hear the door open. “Excuse me?”
The deep voice made you look up from your device; and it was like a god was standing right in front of you. “How can I help you?” he asked , you shook every dirty thought that ran through your head at that moment; putting your phone away. “O-oh sorry.” you chuckled. “I didn't hear the door open.”
The man was clearly at least a decade older than you; you could see the few gray hairs in his head— that didn't matter to you though. “I said how can I help you?” he said, his voice deep and sexy. “I'm yn, I live across the street.” you pointed. “my mother thought it would be a good idea to introduce myself so there wouldn't be any confusion this summer.” you said. “I just got home from college for summer break.”
“College?” He said, you nodded. “yup, my second year is done!” You chirped, this corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. “You won't be a problem right?” You were taken aback by the question, he chuckled. “Parties love, pretty girl like you; surely you're popular.” he said, but you stopped at him calling you pretty; smiling widely at him. “I won't have to worry about loud music and young adults passing out in your front yard right?” you could see his eyes wandering down; stopping right at your chest. “My wife hates the music you kids listen to.”
Right, his wife; he was married, the way he was practically trying to look through your shirt made you forget. “Oh no sir, most of my friends are on vacation.” he nodded. “im minho.” he held his hand out. “Well it's nice to meet you, yn.” he said, you nodded; your eyes scaling his body, much like he did to you; he was pretty fit for someone his age. “How old are you sir?” he raised his eyebrows; what an odd question. “34.” just around your age range. “and since we're asking those kinds of questions,” he said. “May I ask how old you are?” maybe it was a delusion, or maybe he actually was flirting with you— whatever it was, you liked it. “I'm 23 sir.”
“You're still pretty young,” he said; you tilted your head to the side, folding your arm with a frown. “but I am an adult.” you challenged; he nodded, clicking his tongue almost in an annoyed state; it made you smirked; you could read him like a book; he hated being challenged. “still a young girl in my eyes.” you wanted to roll your eyes, and he could see that; he could read you as much as you could him. “I have to get back to work now.” He said, you stepped back. “I'm sure you have things as well, whatever you little girls do these days.” he said, watching your jaw clench. “Remember, no loud crazy parties.”
“Can't promise that sir, it is summer.” was the last thing you said, before turning away; crossing the street, leaving him standing there, watching you go into the house; also getting a peek of your ass. He smirked, walking back into his house, closing the door. “Who was that?” He was quickly brought back to reality by his wife's voice. “at the door, who was it?”
“Oh the woman across the street.” he said walking straight past her into the kitchen. “What did she bring this time?” She followed behind him. “She's sent over 3 plates of cookies in the past month we've been here.” she said. “they aren't even that good; mines are way better.” minho rolled his eyes, they actually weren't, he knew the lady ran her own bakery and his wife barely knew the difference between melted and softened butter. “Of course they are honey.”
“So where are they?” she asked, searching for a plate. “The cookies.” She said, “Oh, you didn't let me finish.” Yeah he was being condescending, but his wife never noticed. “It wasn't her, it was her daughter,” he said, opening the fridge for water. “She's home from college.” He went to walk away, but his wife stood in front of him, her face in a frown. “how may I help you? I need to get back to work.”
“You are to stay away from that girl.” She said, he stared at her confused. “I mean it's not like I'm gonna ask her to come out and get beers with me, she's 23; we have nothing in common.” he said, trudging past his wife, making his way up the stairs. “She's a college student.” he said; very attractive but a college student nonetheless.
he made it back to his office, about to close the door and get back to work; when his wife burst in. “What is now?” He said sitting down. “The other wives.” she started. “They told me things about that girl.” She said, “like what?” He said; what could you have done to offend the housewives of the block. “Back talked to them in an argument; she's a young girl, they all do that.” he laughed, he could believe it; he witnessed it only a few minutes ago — except it turned him on.
he watched his wife scoff, he adjusted himself in his pants as she closed her eyes letting out a big sigh; he felt a rant coming on. “No, they told me she's been seducing their husbands since the day she turned 18.” He looked at his wife. “what?” he said. “Yeah, wearing tiny tiny clothes; flirting with their husbands, and her mother is none the wiser.” he shook his head. “Is she really seducing them, or is she a young pretty girl and they're just bitter miserable wives who can't control their husbands' wandering eyes?”
“Are you defending her?” he sighed, rubbing his temples; he didn't really want to have this conversation. “no I'm not honey, I'm just saying don't believe everything these housewives say.” He said. “yeah well I don't trust her, so stay away from her.” she said, he nodded; just ready to get her out of the room, he was busy; and not to mention his cock was hardening at the thought of you in one of those tiny tiny outfits the desperate housewives told his wife about. “yeah fine, I'll stay away from her.”
“Thank you.” she bent down kissing his forehead. “I love when you actually listen to me.” She said smugly as she walked out closing the door; it pissed him off, not like his banter with you— no that turned him on. “fuck.” he sighed doubling over , his cock throbbing in his pants, you were already driving him crazy.
You hadn't seen him much after that; only glimpses of him walking into his house with groceries, or getting into his car, and even then he looked good; making the spot in between your legs tingle — sure he was married, but it wasn't like you were doing anything wrong; what's wrong with a little fantasy inside your head, something to think about late at night when you had your hand down your sleep shorts, pretending it was him in between your legs, his hands instead of yours.
you did see his wife though, even though it was against your will every single time; and you hated it every single time, she ran the same route as you in the morning but at a later time; so when you were finishing your walk; she was just starting hers.
“Goodmorning.” Her smile was so fake as you slowed down , stopping in front of your mailbox. “How are you?” she yelled from across the street. “I’m fine.” You smiled , so desperate to get into the house; you were sweating and hungry— and you really didn't want to talk to this lady. “I'm good.” You said. “No plans this summer?” she asked. “Not really; most of my friends are back where I go to college.”
She then went on a rant of all the different jobs you could be doing. “Baby sitting, have you ever thought about that; of course you'd have to change your wardrobe a bit , it would be a bit inappropriate to wear some of the things you wear around kids wouldn't it?” this bitch was really working on your nerves. “If you have any kids , then I would be happy to watch them.”
“God no.” There he was again, walking out of the door. “No kids here,” he said. “We have our three cats and that's it.” his eyes scanning your outfit; your skin still glistening with sweat; he was seriously checking you out in front of his wife. “Well I love cats!” you jumped a bit; tits bouncing at the impact. “So cute.”
You knew what you were doing; and so did minho— his wife was quick to end the conversation between you too. “Well I'm sure you're busy, and it's time for my run.” she said. “And don't you have to feed the cats honey?” she said, turning to him, grabbing his arm. “what? oh yeah the cats.” He said. “yeah the cats , go feed them.” she said. “Okay baby.” he said; she turned to you smugly. “Well I better get going.” She said before she started down the street catching up with the other wives she ran with.
“Your wife doesn't like me very much.” He stopped; turning where you stood across the street, in a sports bra that held your tits perfectly; leggings that made your ass pop; and a smirk on your face— he so desperately wanted to fuck off. “I don't know she seemed to like you very much.” you knew he was joking. “it would be inappropriate to wear some of the things you wear, she basically called me a whore in housewives language.” You chuckled , folding your arms under your tits , forcefully pushing your boobs up. “don't worry, I don't care; the housewives on this block have said worse.”
“yeah like what?” he said , stuffing his hands into his pockets. “that I'm just a whore put on earth to seduce their husbands.” you said , a laugh following. “I'm not worried about their husbands, but I can't say the same for their husbands.” You shrugged. “oh really?” He said, you nodded. “but hey it's not my problem, they like to stare.” you shrugged, he did that sexy eyebrow raise again. “They do, don't they?”
Fuck you knew what you were doing; and not only did it piss him off, it fucking turned him on. “I can't say I don't like the attention though.” you said, watching him shift from side to side. “who wouldn't?” he had to get away before he came across the street and dragged you into his house; then he heard it, the meow of the cats. “oh shit.” he said, making you laugh. “time to feed the cats sir.” You waved. “Have a nice day.” you made your way into the house, making sure to sway your hips, giving him a good view of your ass.
“I'm telling you sung he wants to fuck me.” you said; your friend shook his head. “Wow, that took you not only a week.” He said. “He's married, no?” You shrugged. “and that's my problem?” You said. “I said he wants to fuck me, he knows he married.” Morally yes it was fucked up, but you didn't really care. “yeah but the wife already hates you, she finds out you want to fuck her husband.” he said. “you've never seen an episode of snapped? deadly women?” you shook your head. “i’d rather start the semester with you and not the memory of you.”
“How hot is he exactly?” you sent him a photo that you stole from his social media— yes you stalked him. “Oh wow.” he said. “yah.” You heard felix in the background. “Hey lix.” you said. “yn don't die trying to fuck a married man.” The blonde said. “I won't lix don't worry, don't kill my friend in milan.” you responded. “i can't promise you that if he doesn't stop looking at that fucking photo.” you laughed as he slapped the phone. “hey! let me talk to my friend in peace.”
“you want to fuck him too huh?” you heard him say. “no you know I only want to fuck you.” you shook your head. “i'm hanging up before I witness a live amateur porn.” you said. “Call me later.” You hung up. “Now what?” you said.
You decided to go sunbathing; finding your favorite bikini, grabbing your towel and sunscreen and favorite book. “Where's my daughter off now?” your mom said. “sunbathing.” you said grabbing some snacks. “In the front yard?” You nodded. “Have fun, I have work today.” you hummed, making your way outside, you set up your things right in front; taking your shirt off laying down on the towel , feeling the sun beaming down on you.
“Are you kidding me?” minho heard his wife's voice. “Is she serious right now?” He stood up from his office chair , making his way to their shared room, where his wife was standing in front of the window. “What's wrong now?” He said. “she's out there in a bikini and shorts; laying in the sun.”
“Okay?” He said, she scoffed. “Everyone can see her , what kind of slut wears that in front of her house.” she said, he made his way over to the window. “There's no one out there.” He said, she glared at him. “Move, I'm going to the grocery store.” she pushed past him. “You already went to the grocery store.” he said following behind. “this is for the barbeque.” she said. “What barbeque?” he said , they both made their way outside to the car. “I told you we're hosting the barbeque at our house.”
“seriously; we just moved here,” he said. “even more reason for us to do it.” she picked his lips. “Who's gonna be there?” he asked. “Everyone on the block.” he did not feel comfortable having all those people running in and out of his house, but his wife was dead set, so it was already set and stone. “Hello!” The couple turned their heads to the voice.
“I'm off.” your mom came out of the house. “Okay!” you said looking up from the book. “Oh there go the Lee's.” she said , you sat up watching the couple walk out of the house. “Hello!” your mom waved brightly at them. “Oh hello!” You covered your eyes from the sun. “Yn don't be rude, say hello.” Your mom said. “Hi.” you waved, his wife didn't say anything. “Hello yn.” he said, you smiled at the way he said your name. “Where are you two off to today?” your mom asked. “Oh just to get some things for the barbeque we're throwing for the block.”
“Oh that sounds fun!” your mom said. “you're welcome to come.” she turned to you; her smile was different towards you than your mother. “You to yn, you're both welcomed.” she said, the invitation mostly towards your mom. “Oh thank you, we'll be there.” the other woman nodded. “Great!” you and minho made eye contact , you smiled. “can't wait.”
It was finally the day of the barbeque; your mother forcing you across the street with the cookies in her hand. “You're not gonna rot in the bed today.” You groaned. “i don't want to be here with these people.” she ignored you, knocking on the door. “It's only for an hour.” she said. “you know that cute boy down the street, he'll be here.” she winked , you cringed. “Why do you keep trying to marry me off to him?” you said. “because you can't spend all your time with jisung, even he has a boyfriend.”
the door opened , minho stood there. “hello.” your mom held out the plate of cookies. “mhm , my favorite.” he smiled. “thank you.” he stood to the side. “Everyone is in the back,” he said. “Thank you for inviting us.” your mother said. “No problem, you've been so nice to us with these cookies ever since we moved here,” he said. “Me and my wife really enjoy them,” he said. “I'm glad , come by the shop and I'll give you some free cupcakes.” she said. “Thank you ma’am.”
You two made it to the back where everyone was. “There's seungmin over there.” your mom pointed. “go talk to him.” Minho watched you stomp over to the boy, your mom making her way over to a group of women; his eyes scanning your outfit, your mini skirt sitting right below your ass, the shirt you wore barely covering your plush boobs; fuck he just wanted to stick his cock in between them. “fuck.” he cursed.
“you okay man?” Chan, another neighbor, came up to him. “yeah I'm fine.” he said , not taking his eyes off of you. “I see you've met yn.” the older guy chuckled. “yeah I guess.” He said. “Listen, let me give you some advice.” Chan said. “fuck your wife.” Minho turned to him. “What?” he said, the Australian laughed. “I know what you're thinking; wife being a bit of a bitch, barely having sex.” He chuckled, that was exactly his story. “Here comes this young girl with a nice ass and a good pair of tits , batting her eyelashes, a bit of a brat?”
“You seem to know a lot.” He said. “because I was you, man.” Chris said, wrapping his arm around his shoulder. “But you know what I did? i went home and fucked my wife.” he said. “forgot all about it.” he said. “I'm telling you it's not worth it.” he said. “Fuck your wife.”
He knew Chan was right, but that didn't stop him from looking at you; his eyes meeting yours. you tilted your head to the side, your sultry smile as you say your goodbyes to seungmin, making your way over to him, he looked around making sure your mom or his wife wasn't paying attention , as you finally were standing in front of him. “Can I use your bathroom?”
He didn't have to follow you; he could've just given you the directions— but he really wasn't thinking; and he wished he would have been. “You have a nice home.” You said. “Thank you.” He said watching you purposely sway your hips side to side. “fuck.” he says to himself. “huh?” you asked , but you can hear him , he could see you smirking teasing him. “fucking brat.”
you definitely heard him this time, you laughed. “sir what's wrong?” you went to touch his shoulder in fake concern. He grabbed your wrist, pushing you against the wall. “fuck why couldn't you just stay away?” he growled. “Am I really to blame?” you took your other hand , traveling down to his waist. “Yn.” He weakly warned. “You can stop me if you want.” you said , your hand inching further— right to his cock, giving it a little squeeze. “fuck.” He groaned. “but I don't think you want me to.”
this was it; you finally were gonna get what you've wanted all this time; married or not you wanted his cock inside of you. “your wife doesn't have to know.” that's what set him off , grabbing the back of your head. “fuck shut up.” He said. “Get on your knees.” he said , roughly pushing you down. “you thought you were gonna get fucked didn't you?” you hissed as he yanked your hair. “too bad I'm just gonna stuff my cock down your throat and you're gonna take it like the little slut you are.”
he used his other hand to pull down his pants , freeing his cock from his underwear; his stock almost hitting you in your face. “you're so big” he hissed as you gave the tip of his cock a kiss. “yeah, want my cock down your throat.” He stroked his length in front of your face. “Fuck.” he slapped his cock on your lips. “open up.” he his tip against your lips. “fuck.”
He slowly pushed his cock into your mouth , holding your head still as he forced his cock down your throat. “shit your little throat taking my cock so good.” he hissed. “go-gonna fuck your face.” he moved his hips , holding the wall above your head, his balls slapping against your chin as he fucked your face in the middle of the hallway of the house he shared with his wife. “fuck I'm gonna cum.” he moaned. “fuck fuck fuck.” he thrusted a few more time , pulling out of your mouth , stroking his cock vigorously. “shit I'm cumming!” he shouted , his warm sticky cum shooting from his cock hitting your face. “Fuck.”
He looked down at your smiling cum covered face. “You tasted good.” you said wiping some off your cheek , putting your fingers to your mouth. You stood up , holding his cock in your hand, stroking it. “You came so much , it must've been a while.” he hissed. “sh-shit.” He said. “dont you want to fuck me?” He did, fuck he really did. “m-my wife.” he groaned. “outside.” you sighed, you forgot about the party. “I guess we'll have to wait.” you let his throbbing cock go. “Fuck I'm still hard.” he groaned.
You chuckled, wiping the rest of his cum off face. “thats too bad, I know you had a bunch of more cum for me.” he wanted to drag you up to his room and fuck you into the mattress, damned everyone in the back. “fucking brat.” he hissed, you kissed the corner of his mouth with a smile. “When does your wife leave for work?”
“11.” he said , you nodded. “I'll be here at one.” That's all you said before leaving him standing in the hall, guilt building in his stomach, not only did he just cheat on his wife— he knew he was gonna do it again.
he cleaned himself up; going back to the party. “Hey minho.” your mother came up to him. “Have you seen yn, she seemed to have escaped.” of he did. “um she said she wasn't feeling good so she headed home,” he said. “that girl, always something.” she shook his head. “What's wrong?” his wife came over. “oh nothing yn got sick and had to go home.” he could see his wife's smile, luckily your mom didn't see it. “Awe too bad.” she said. “I guess I better go see if she's okay, I had a nice time.” your mother said, before excusing herself.
“don't worry i didn't poison her.” she said, he stared at her. “laugh minho it's funny.” she kissed his lips before walking away, he made eye contact with Chan who gave him a nod— if only he knew it was too late for him.
He did completely ignore chris's word , as soon as the last person was gone, and the house was quiet and clean again; he brought his wife up to their room. “fuck minho!” his wife shouted as he fucked into her. “fuck faster.” he held her hips down as he plowed into her , wishing it was you that was under. “minho fuck!” his wife shouted into his ear. “Wait, don't go so fast.” she moaned, but all he could he do was imagine it was you , yelling for him to go faster , fuck you harder and faster. “Minho I'm cumming.” his wife shrieked. “fuck wait I'm not there yet.” he groaned, he knew once she was finished he wouldn't be able to continue. “fuck I'm cumming.” she shouted. “fuck I came Minho , pull out.”
he sighed, pulling out , laying on his back cock still hard. “fuck.” He cursed. “That was so good.” his wife laid breathless next to him. “But you were a bit too rough , next time don't go so hard.” He wasn't worried about that, he was too focused on his throbbing cock. “Hey, can you help me with this?” he said. “I can't tonight, I'm too tired and I have work in the morning.” she kissed his cheek. “I'm sure you can handle yourself.”
he watched her turn on her side, turning the light off leaving him in the dark , unable to sleep due to his cock. “fuck.” he cursed as he wrapped his hands around his length, thinking about how tight your throat felt around his cock , the way you gagged around his length; spit coming from your mouth, so messy. “fuck.” he moaned , cumming all over his hand to the thought of you.
he grabbed a tissue off the nightstand; wiping himself clean , throwing the tissue into the trash. He climbed back into the bed, pulling the covers over his body; his wife snoring beside him, he turned the light on his side off— he really tried to listen to what chan said, but he was far too gone.
he knew he was gonna fuck you when you came over tomorrow.
“Wait girl, did you really think this through?” jisung said. “I thought we were joking about this,” he said. “did you already fuck him?” he questioned. “not exactly.” you said. “what does that mean?” Felix said both of them invested now in their hotel room in Belgium. “I may or may not have given him head yesterday at the barbeque.” Both of their mouths dropped. “Are you kidding?” you shook your head. “oh my god yn you're insane.” jisung said. “How didn't his wife catch you?” you shrugged. “I don't know.”
“It's 11:30 now , are you gonna go?” felix asked, you looked at the clock. “maybe.” you said. “I know I really shouldn't support this.” jisung said. “but you're gonna do it anyway aren't you?” he asked. “i think his wife is leaving now , you got up looking out the window, sure enough she was walking to her car. “yeah it's her she's leaving now.” you spoke into the phone— fuck it. “I'm going.” you said. “Please don't get caught in his bed by his wife.” jisung said. “and don't get pregnant.” you hung up , getting dressed.
your mom had already left so you didn't have to explain to her why you suddenly were leaving; in the shortest skirt possible you might add, slipping on your shoes , opening the door to your house. you kept an eye for nosey housewives as you made your way across the street , knocking on the door; still keeping an eye out for people. the door opened up, revealing the man himself. “hi.”
before you could say something; he was dragging you into the house, closing the door, slamming you against it. “Jesus you're really eager aren't you?” you teased , he growled pressing you against the door. “I'm so fucking hard right now.” he said. “I can feel your cock throbbing , you're still thinking about my throat aren't you?” you squeezed his cock. “Is your wife not giving you head?” You pouted , “poor you.”
he was ready to take you against the door , but instead he forced himself away. “upstairs,” he said. “now.” you heard his commanding tone, he guided you to his room , slapping your ass, pushing the door open. “short fucking skirt , what's the point of it?” he growled , pulling you by the waist of the skirt, unbuttoning the button, pulling it down , leaving you in your panties. “take your shirt off.” you obeyed him , pulling the shirt over your head , he palmed his cock watching you undress.
“fuck get on the bed.” this was the bed he shared with his wife , but you could care less at this moment , spreading your legs for the older man , your wet cunt on display. “so fucking messy.” he pulled his pants down , revealing his underwear. “gonna use that cunt.”
he got on the bed , rubbing your clothed cunt. “fuck s-sir.” he smirked. “You like calling me sir.” he pulled your panties to the side, rubbing his cock along your folds. “You love cock that bad that you'd fuck anyone.” he groaned as he slid the tip of his cock in. “fuck a married man?” You moaned feeling his cock stretching you out. “pl-please fuck me.”
he fully bottomed out inside you. “fuck your pussy is so tight.” he groaned. “you-you're so big.” you moaned. “Please move.” you begged , he pulled out, before slamming back into you. “oh fuck!” you shrieked , clutching the bed sheets below you as he began to plow into you. “fuck I want you to cum all over my cock.” he hissed as you tightened around him. “fuck I'm gonna cum sir.” you moaned, your legs shaking. “fuck i'm cumming.”
a white ring formed around the base of his cock as he kept fucking into you. “gonna cover your pussy in my cum.” he hissed, his hand coming up to your boob to squeeze it. “fuck I'm gonna cum.” he cursed , pulling out cumming all over your cunt. “shit.” he tapped his cock on your cunt. “fuck, come here.”
he grabbed waist, flipping you over. “ass up.” he lifted your hips up; rubbing his cock along your folds. “You want my cock again?” you nodded. “Pl-please fuck me, want your cock sir.” he groaned. “yeah, want my cock?” he held the base of his cock coated with your juices, slapping your ass. “come on slut , fuck yourself on my cock.”
you pushed yourself back on his cock, both of you moaning out again. “that's it , stretch yourself out with my cock.” He groaned , grabbing your hip. “fuck i can't take it.” he pushed your head against the pillow , plowing into you. “fuck , that's it.” he groaned. “how does it feel being fucked past your limits by a married man?” he groaned. “so-so good.” your words barely audible due to your face being pushed against the pillow. “My wife lays her head right where you're drooling like a brain dead slut.”
you felt the knot in your stomach forming again. “You gonna cum again?” he said , his cock twitching. “ye-yes , please let me cum.” you begged. “no need to beg , I'm gonna let you cum slut.” he slapped your ass. “go ahead cum all over my cock.” your legs gave out as you cum , but he didn't stop , and you didn't want him to either. “fu-fuck I'm gonna cum.” he whimpered. “fuck.”
“i-inside.” You moaned. “fu-fuck I can't.” he groaned. “pl-please , cum inside me.” his hips twtiched as you tightened around him. “of fuck I'm cumming, gonna give you what you want.” he whispered in your ear , biting down on it as he came inside you. “fuck.” he drawed out as he came , his cum flooding your abused cunt. “shit.” he cursed, pulling , watching his cum leak out of you, it was probably the best thing he'd seen in a long time , he slapped your ass. “such a good pussy.”
“you don't feel guilty?” you asked , laying in his arms , it has been a while and it finally hit you while you laid in his arms , naked— in the bed he shared with his wife. “I guess,” he said. “what if we get caught?” you asked. “We won't.” he said. “She leaves everyday except for Sundays at 11.” he said. “she leaves; you come over and I take you on different surfaces of the house.” he bit your neck before kissing where he bit at. “she’ll be none the wiser.”
“And when I go back to school?” you didn't live far , but it was still a drive. “We'll figure it out , I'll drive the 2 hours if I have to.” he said. “you'd drive two hours there and back every weekend just to fuck me?”
he flipped you over , you yelp; feeling his cock against your folds. “fuck.” he cursed. “for this pussy?” he pushed his tip in. “fu-fuck yeah , I'd drive for it.”
“Now we still have 4 hours left and I want to spend as much time as I can inside this pretty cunt.”
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©️LUVYENI
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dark-konohagakure2 · 6 months ago
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If you can, I'd like something dark with gaara and breeding, like a breeding program to preserve the best of his genes.
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tw: dub/noncon, power imbalance, breeding, mild misogyny, mating press, domestication, rough sex
All characters depicted are 18+
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Gaara has never given marriage and children much thought, he has his desires like any other man, but he largely suppresses them due to his busy life, but after Temari marries outside the village and has a son, a son that could one day become Kazekage, the demands for Gaara to have a child coming from the village elders get all the more frequent and insistent.
While Gaara already has a child, Shinki is his son by adoption, and the higher ups want a child of Gaara's own flesh and blood, initially Gaara doesn't really see the difference, to him blood doesn't define family, but he goes along with the demands regardless, albeit reluctantly.
When the fateful day comes and Gaara is to conceive his heir, he's initially reluctant and even somewhat nervous, a rare feeling for the stoic Kazekage, but when he actually sees the girl he's to breed with (who looks even more reluctant), Gaara's hesitancy fades away, he was worried he'd have to sleep with someone too young or too old, but when he sees that his partner is someone his age and beautiful, he starts to feel all the more eager.
He mostly ignores her cries as he gets on top of her, lifting her legs up next to her as he gets into a position that will ensure maximum deep penetration, but Gaara isn't heartless, and he'll reassure her if she's struggling and crying too much.
"Shhh, there now, it's okay. I'm sure you'll be a great mother for our children, I'm sure of it. Now stop struggling, or I might have to be more forceful."
Being both the Kazekage and a single father is very stressful job, and his rough thrusts will reflect his frustrations, his cock ramming down into her fertile cunt hard and fast, leaving her whimpering and quivering underneath the stoic redhead.
Gaara doesn't understand why she isn't enjoying it, he was under the impression that girls liked it rough, but she isn't liking it at all, in all his inexperience he wrongly believes that he's not being rough enough with her, and that's why she doesn't like it, so he'll pound into her even harder in response.
Once he finally does cum inside of her, which doesn't take too long due to his sexual sensitivity, Gaara makes sure that he's cumming directly into her womb, his body weight pressed fully down on hers as he groans quietly, his pent up seed filling up her insides.
Gaara won't stop his efforts to breed her even after he finishes inside her for the first time, he wants to ensure beyond a shadow of a doubt that he gets her knocked up, both to satisfy the demands of the elders and for his own desires, so he's going to cum inside of her until he can't anymore.
"There we go, good girl... You'll be a great mother, and a good wife too... Now, time for round two, I want my Shinki to have a lot of siblings..."
Gaara makes a mental note to sign some marriage papers as soon as he's finished, he initially thought that all he had to do was cum inside of her and be done with it, but he's found himself quite smitten with the woman underneath him, and plans to act on his newfound affection by making her his permanently.
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queenie-the-court-jester · 10 months ago
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that isn't very holy of you :/
Yandere church boy x gn!reader
It came out shittier than I hoped for. Not proofread 🌺 I'll fix this when I have the time
Tw: religious themes, noncon mention, minor cult mention
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✝️ you had just arrived in the small town of morning star. Having been needing a break from the city life, you rented a one bedroom cabin close by. Planning on staying here for a month, you quickly headed towards your new home, very eager to start exploring the area
✝️ wandering around the town square, it seemed everyone knew eachother. A family like community perhaps? Maybe that's why they all kept staring at you as passed through, must not be use to new faces
✝️that was until a group of children approached, asking you to come play ball with them. You couldn't say no to their puppy dog eyes, and the adult's judgemental stares so you agreed. And it was fun surprisingly! You noticed none of the children had any phones.. or the grown up's for that matter
✝️your first week there you were unsettled, but you just pushed it off as the townsfolks strange behavior, Focusing on unpacking and enjoying your stsy. Until one of the school teachers, a kindergarten one, knocked on your door on a sunday
"hi there honey! On behalf of the people I'd like to sincerely apologize for the cold welcome. It's just been a hard year for all of us! So to make it up you, won't you come to church with us on this fine morning?"
✝️ whether or not you're religious yourself, she managed to convince you to come along. Chatting the whole walk there. Talking about her husband, her children. She mentioned something about having a son your age but you weren't really paying attention
✝️ walking through the grand double doors of the church house, she sat you on the front row with the pastors family, next to a young man. You were startled as she sat on the other side of you, leaning in to whisper In Your ear as she pointed at the pastor preaching
"that's my hubby right there. He's a handsome fella ain't he?"
✝️david looked at his mother in disbelief, he told her a few a times he found you attractive and now look at her! He could practically see the gears turning in her head. thankfully you seemed preoccupied thinking, so he did his best to seem normal while his poor heart beated 300 mph
✝️after the sermon, david turned to you and have you a sheepish smile
"hi.. my name's David, but you can call me dave.. its.. nice to meet you"
✝️you and David hit it off, unlike all the other people. He didn't constantly talk about praising god and forcing his religion down your throat. He was kind, understanding. Laughing at your jokes and nodding along to your words. He never met someone so.. ethereal
✝️growing up, he had a hard time believing in his small towns "god". Watching them cut up and sacrifice newcomers to their false idols, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach heading their screams. But he could definitely devote his cause to you...
✝️he trapped you in this shitty town when he asked you out on a little date a few days later. Unaware he drugged your food and dragging you into his home, waking up chained to a bed. You couldn't tell how long you've been there, but every time you'd try to escape he'd punish you in bed. Not letting you cum or overstimulating you to the point of tears. Why would you want to leave something that can make you feel so good?
✝️he grew up desensitized to blood and gore, so he's confused when you're screaming and crying. Why are you doing that? Don't you know that this is what happens to bad spouses? What do you mean you're not married either? ofcourse you are. Stop being so difficult...
✝️nobody blinks an eye when he strides into town with you on a collar and leash. And that's when you realized, you should have left earlier. Because the whole town was sick in the head. It wasn't like you could call for help because he fucking destroyed your electronics and the people don't even have phones. Something about wifi signals can brainwash you
✝️ he's whipped for you, that much you can obviously tell. but he's smarter than he looks. Eating dinner with his family is just painful,since all they talk about is God god god. It hurts your ears with how often they just Randomly start singing praises. It's bad enough they force you to watch their cult church activities...
✝️if you give in to his demands, he'll let you off the leash but you have to stay close by at all times. If you don't, he'll have to make his punishments a little more extreme. There's also a possibility he'll force you to help around the town. whether that be looking after the children or just running around doing errands. The shock bracelet on your ankle stops you from running into the woods..
✝️if you don't, well.. you wouldn't mind if you became permanently handicapped right?
"don't be so difficult sweetie.. just stay still and it'll cut right through okay?'
1K notes · View notes
covenofagatha · 3 months ago
Text
But you're my stepmom! (Part 5)
Word count: 2700
Warnings: super brief mention of smut
Taglist:@stayevildarling @i-just-cannot @hazey-g @buttercandy16 @320viada @evilangels-stuff @rmaximoff @morganismspam23 @aboutcustardcreams @sasheemo @rigglemethat @walkethisway @mommywandas
A/N: I apologize in advance for this one hehe. Next chapter will be more satisying ;)
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When you wake up, you are alone with a pounding headache. You roll over with a grunt and reach a hand out to touch the pillow next to you, see if it still has Agatha’s warmth, but doesn’t. You can’t help but feel stung even though you know you’re being irrational. Of course she wasn’t going to spend the night with you. She probably untangled herself from you the second you’d fallen asleep. 
But you remember the way her body felt curled around yours and you sigh. You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart. Her words from the pool last night echo in your head. Last night, they were daring almost, but in the cold light of morning, they are a warning. She is married to your father and twice your age. You can’t be doing this with her, whatever it is. 
You check the time and realize you’ve slept in later than you usually do. You begrudgingly get out of bed and brush your teeth, staring at your pale face in the mirror. Agatha doesn’t want you, you tell yourself. You’re just reading into things. 
More than just a small part of you is disappointed. 
You dig around your closet and are able to find a pair of shorts and a sweater in your closet to throw on. You’re spending the day with Agatha and your dad, still unsure of the plans. 
You check your phone and see five missed calls and 27 texts from Wanda, checking to make sure you were alright. You hadn’t been able to find her before you left the party last night but according to her texts, Rio had seen you get into a car and told Wanda. 
You shoot her a quick text letting her know you’re alive and that you made it home safely. You want to open up to your friend about your night with Agatha but you don’t think Wanda would understand. 
When you go downstairs, the smell of bacon and eggs reaches your nose and you see your step-mother at the stove cooking. 
“Good morning,” you say groggily, taking a seat on a stool at the island. The bacon sizzles and you wince at the noise. She turns around and smiles, always the picture of perfection.
“How are you feeling?” 
You moan in response, dropping your head onto the cool countertop. It feels good and dulls the pain in your head just a little. 
“I remember those days,” she says fondly with a chuckle. And then she places a plate down next to you just a bit too loudly for it to be an accident. 
“Heyyy,” you whine, lifting your head slightly to glare at her. 
“Eat up. You’ll feel better.” You grumble and do as you’re told. While you’re eating, she continues talking. “Your father will be home soon. Have you thought about what you want to do today?”
“Is laying on the couch for the next seven hours an option?”
Agatha smirks. “Unfortunately for you, no. But we could watch a movie or something.” She regards the miserable state you’re in. “Do you want me to get you some advil?” You nod pathetically. 
She leaves the kitchen and you hear her footsteps on the stairs. You’re a little hurt that she hasn’t even mentioned last night. Should you bring it up? You scoff at yourself. What would you even say? Why didn’t you stay with me? or Hey, wanna get back in the pool? 
She is obviously trying to set boundaries and you can do that. You can be good. Better for everyone that way. 
And then she comes back in, places two pills in front of you, and casually says, “You talk in your sleep.” 
Your cheeks heat up immediately. “Um, what did I say?” 
She smirks. “Sounded like you were having a good dream.”
“I don’t even remember what I was–” And fuck, your dream comes back to you in flashes. Agatha pushing you against the side of her pool, grinding her thigh up between your legs. Her telling you to hump it like the desperate little girl that you are. Your eyes widen, horrified. Was that the reason she left? You must’ve been moaning, or even worse, did you say her name? You vaguely remember her leg between yours last night before drifting off, were you moving on it? You drop your head into your hands, the flush from your face spreading all down your neck.“I’m so sorry,” you say through your fingers, determined to never look at Agatha ever again. 
She laughs. “Don’t be, it’s not like you could control it. So, who were you thinking about?” You peek up to see her leaning on her elbows over the counter, eyes wide. You definitely don’t notice how her position pushes her breasts up and closer together, giving you a much better look at her cleavage. 
At least you didn’t moan her name in your sleep. 
“Uh-” you say, mind racing to think of literally anyone besides her. Thankfully, that’s the moment you hear the garage open. You’ve never been so excited for your dad to be home. Agatha winks knowingly and takes your empty plate, rinsing it off in the sink.
“My favorite ladies!” Your dad exclaims as he walks into the kitchen. You offer him a tight-lipped smile and Agatha pats his arm when he leans in to kiss her cheek. You tune out when Agatha asks him about his meetings and he starts recounting his trip. You’ve listened to your fair share of boring work stories from him. 
“So, sweet pea, what’s on the agenda today?” He asks, bringing you back to focus.
“Maybe we can watch some Desperate Housewives?” Before the divorce, you and your dad had spent quite a lot of time together watching TV shows, Desperate Housewives being one of your favorites. 
He smiles. “Sounds perfect. Let me go take a shower and then we can start.”
Agatha busies herself by cleaning up the kitchen while you flop onto the couch. Your headache is starting to subside but you still feel gross from the hangover. You close your eyes and float somewhere between consciousness and sleep until your dad finally comes back downstairs. 
“Alright, what season are we watching?” He asks, handing you the remote. Agatha sits down next to you, pulling a blanket over the two of you and he sits on the other side of her. You flick through the episodes, picking one from season 6 at random. 
You had to admit, it is actually nice to sit here with Agatha and your dad. You feel a sense of peace that you usually don’t when you’re at this house. 
And then you remember what episode this is. The one where Katherine realizes that she might have feelings for Robin and has a fantasy about her. A hot fantasy. You swallow and squirm, your leg starting to bounce anxiously. Normally, you wouldn’t be so affected by the scene on the TV, but you’re suddenly hyper aware of the woman sitting next to you. 
Agatha, seemingly having enough of your leg tapping, reaches her hand out underneath the blanket and places it squarely on your thigh. 
You stifle a gasp and freeze. You forget how to breathe when she starts to slowly drag her nails up and down your leg, pausing every time when they reach the juncture between your leg and hip. You can literally feel the wetness pooling in your underwear. 
She continues doing that for the rest of the episode and you just grow needier and needier with every passing second. So you slowly let your legs fall more open. She glances at you out of the corner of her eye so your dad doesn’t notice, the hint of a smirk pulling at her lips. 
Her hand slides to the inside of your thigh and this time you can’t hold back your sharp intake of air. 
“You okay?” Your dad asks, looking over Agatha to check on you. She squeezes your leg playfully, sending jolts of electricity right to your cunt. 
You nod, not trusting that your voice won’t waver and give your state of arousal away. 
Agatha slowly leans into you, mouth pressing against your ear, hand moving closer to the center of your legs, and whispers, “Good girl.” 
An honest-to-god whimper slips out of your mouth and you cover it up with a cough. “I’m gonna go get some water,” you choke out and practically jump off the couch like you’ve been burned. 
Agatha just smirks. 
In the kitchen, you take deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves. You can’t be imagining it now. Whatever Agatha is doing, it is completely on purpose. You can still feel her heated touch on your thigh and your stomach is still in flames. 
You grab a glass of water and head back to the living room, mentally preparing for more of Agatha’s touches. 
You walk back in the living room and stop dead in your tracks. On the couch, illuminated by the glow of the TV, is Agatha and your dad kissing. 
You drop the glass. It’s the fourth thing you’ve broken in their house in the past two days, if anyone is keeping track. But that’s not what you’re focused on. 
They break apart and whirl toward the sound of the noise. Your dad stands up, apologizing, but you don’t even see him. You’re too busy staring at Agatha, who is chewing on her lip, looking back at you. Her gaze is filled with concern and – fuck, is that pity? 
You scoff. Of course it is. You inwardly curse at letting yourself be so stupid, feelings of betrayal and anger coursing through your veins replacing the desire you had just been feeling. 
You turn on your heel and rush upstairs, throwing your clothes from last night that are folded on your bed into a bag. You pick up your phone and scroll through your contact list, hitting the call button. 
“Please pick up,” you mutter to yourself, pacing back and forth. 
Finally on the third ring, she does. “Hello?” Rio Vidal asks, sounding surprised. 
“Hey, Rio. Do you want to go do something right now?” 
“Oh. Uh, yeah, I’d love to. What do you want to do?” 
“Let’s go to a bar and get older people to buy us drinks,” you say, your stomach already protesting at the thought of consuming more alcohol after last night. 
You can tell she feels the same way by her long groan.
“Okay, fine. We don’t have to drink. But we can still go dance and have fun. Please?” 
“Okay. What time?”
You check your watch. It’s early in the afternoon but you can’t stand to spend another minute in this house. “How about in an hour? I’ll pick you up?” 
She agrees and you hang up. And now for getting out of here. 
Both your dad and Agatha watch you as you walk back down the stairs. “Everything okay?” Your dad asks tentatively. 
“Wanda’s kind of having an emergency right now. Would you be able to take me back to Mom’s house so I can go be with her? My car’s there.” You don’t even look at Agatha but you can feel her eyes locked on you.
Your dad frowns. “How did you get here then?” 
You can’t help but glance at the older woman, your brain trying to think of something quick. 
“I picked her up this morning,” Agatha quickly jumps in. “I just figured it would be easier that way if we went somewhere.” You fight the urge to give her a grateful look, rage still curling around your insides. 
“Okay, yeah, sure,” your dad sighs. “I was kind of hoping we could spend the day together.” 
“Me, too,” you say half-heartedly. “Maybe next weekend though? I’m sorry, Wanda really needs me.” 
“Let me grab my keys,” he says, leaving the room. You walk straight to the front door, ignoring Agatha saying your name. 
The car ride home is filled with awkward conversation about school and work. Nothing out of the usual there, though. He pulls into the driveway and parks the car, turning towards you. You can hardly wait for whatever he’s going to say next. 
“How’s your mother doing?” He used to ask you that all the time when the divorce first happened, but not so much anymore. Not since Agatha. 
“She’s good,” you say softly. He nods like he’s glad to hear it. And then you step out of the car and go into your mom’s house to get ready. 
***
Rio swings open the door almost immediately after your first knock. She’s wearing a cute green dress that pairs nicely with your purple dress. 
“You ready?” You ask and she shuts the door behind her, following you to your car. “How was the rest of the party last night?
She shrugs. “It was fine. I threw up a few times. Nat and Marie won like three more games of beer pong.”
“Of course they did.” The rest of the ride is silent. Rio’s not a big talker and you don’t feel like saying much. 
The Hex is the only 18+ bar in Westview and you’ve been a couple times before. You find it slightly disgusting, but you need to take your mind off Agatha. You were being stupid, you realize that now. 
The line is short, on account of it still being pretty early, and not many people are in the bar. You and Rio find a secluded table to sit at and you order some chips and queso and drinks. The two of you fall into easy conversation now, pointing out things about the other people there. You’re both in the middle of giggling when all of a sudden the music turns on and people start to make their way to the middle of the floor that’s clear. 
“Come on!” You jump up and grab Rio, leading her to the center. She rolls her eyes amusedly but comes willingly. You lose yourself in the music, spinning around with Rio until you see someone with long dark hair. You suddenly stop. The woman turns around and it’s someone you don’t recognize. 
You scowl. 
There’s another brunette dancing with a man, arms around his shoulders. They’re kissing and all you can think about is your dad and Agatha. 
“Hey, are you okay?” Rio shouts over the music. She’s stopped dancing now too and is gently touching your shoulder. Before you can even think, you grasp her cheeks with your hands and pull her into a kiss. 
She kisses you back, her hands flying to your shoulders but you can’t get the thought of Agatha out of your head. Rio’s mouth feels good against yours but you just keep picturing that you’re kissing the older woman. 
“Fuck,” you say in frustration, pulling away, realizing that your eyes are welling up. “I’m sorry.” And then you’re storming off to the bathroom, Rio hot on your heels. 
You’re breathing hard, fists clenching the sink, when the door opens. 
“Hey,” Rio says with uncharacteristic gentleness. She strokes her fingers through your hair, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. You turn around, blinking back tears. “What’s going on?” 
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, sniffling. “There’s this woman that I like but she’s with someone else and I thought that she might like me but I’m just an idiot.” Venting about it feels good, even if you can’t tell her the exact details. 
Her face softens. “Well, she’s a fool.” You choke out a laugh, wiping the snot from your nose with the back of your hand. 
“Thank you. For saying that, for coming with me tonight.”
She smiles. “Of course.” 
“Could you, um, could you give me a minute?” You ask and she nods with understanding and slips out the door. You take a shaky breath and look back at yourself in the mirror. You have a cute girl out there who likes you. Stop acting pathetic over a middle-aged woman and get your act together, you tell yourself. 
You straighten yourself up and leave the bathroom. You spot Rio across the bar and you’re making your way over to her when someone grabs your wrist tightly. 
“Hey, ouch!” You exclaim, turning to see who it is. 
Now, this time, it’s a brunette you do know. 
And she looks pissed. 
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Agatha hisses. 
443 notes · View notes
crookedteethed · 5 months ago
Text
HE'S my thing | r.c.
Pairing: (older) Bestfriend's Dad Rafe! x Fem!reader
Summary: You ended things with your best friend's father, but does anything ever truly end?
Warnings: 18+ Semi-public sex (p in v), cursing, cheating in the next room, age gap, Fuckboy!Rafe, angst, usage of "little girl" and 'brat', manhandling, choking
A/N: Barely proofread. Also, thank you for all the love and support on part one!!
Part One
Word Count: 2.8k
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"Fuck, Marry, Kill: Mr. Thornton, Mr. Kelce, or Mr. Barry." Maribella had asked you.
You pulled your tanning reflector away from your face to look at your potential candidates.
You and Marble were sunbathing by the pool at Tanny Hill when suddenly, guests began to slowly appear. Then someone started playing music from the speakers, the backyard string lights turned on, and suddenly the grill started crackling with fire.
"Daddy must be throwing one of his summer barbeques." Maribella had hummed.
You observed the three older men, all wearing colorful floral swim trunks, reminiscing about the "good old days" before they had children and wives, unaware that you and Maribella were sizing them up.
Fuck, Marry, Kill.
It was a simple question-and-answer game that you and Maribella often played when you were bored with strangers on the street or celebrity men whom you'd fancy, never with the men in your actual lives.
"Let's see." you elongated. "I'd fuck Mr. Barry, Marry Mr. Thornton, and Kill Mr. Kelce."
"Ouch." Maribella laughs.
"Sorry, Kelce." You shrugged, laughing along with your friend. "What about you?" You asked.
Like you, Maribella paused to observe the men, thus concluding: "None of them. They're all old and have beer belly's."   
"Then why'd you ask me?" you said in disbelief.
"Because." She said snobbishly, "I was testing you. Y'know, it's unhealthy for young girls to be attracted to such old men? Unhealthy."
You rolled your eyes, bringing your tanning reflector back to your face.
Ever since you'd told Maribella that you'd slept with her father, Mr. Cameron, she'd been subtly throwing slick remarks on her disdain for your taste in older men. 
Though she claimed she wasn't upset about you sleeping with Mr. Cameron, you can still sense her animosity toward the situation, which is why you never responded when she made a snide remark.
"Oh, look, it's my dad and his latest bitch he'd gotten from the pound." Maribella snide, and in a timely manner you watched as Rafe and his latest "Bitch" walked through the sliding patio doors.
Rafe had one of those cocky ass grins on his face, the one he would flash to you after cumming deeply inside you without wearing a condom, or the type of snarky grin he would show after whispering something promiscuous in your ear.
The bitch--woman who'd he been talking to appeared to be roughly around his age--maybe a little older, blond, and gangling looking. If you hadn't known The Camerons for so long, you would have assumed this woman was Rafe's wife and Maribella's mother.
You scoffed. "God, I thought there was an age limited when it came to being a slut." you laughed, causing Maribella to laugh along with you.
The woman also laughs, but it's because of something Rafe had whispered in her ear. The tint of your sunglasses had blurred the exact movement of Rafe's plush lips, but you assume he said something along the lines of sweet nothings from Rafe Cameron.
Surely, Maribella hadn't known that you ended things with her father just over a week ago, so she hadn't known just how furious you'd been to see Rafe with another woman. 
So quickly, just like that, he'd forgotten about you, just like you hadn't been the "tightest cunt" he claimed to ever be in. And not to mention, he hadn't even looked at you or glanced your way since the barbecue began. 
"I'm going to be sick." You said.
"You too?" Maribella asked.
You got up from your lounge chair with no plan in mind; you didn't even know where you were going until you found yourself staring angrily at Rafe in front of the grill. 
He'd been flipping over a barbecue rib with a pair of tongs, the blond woman clinging to his back with her chin laying on his shoulders and her arms wrapped around his body.
Yuck. 
Rafe had been wearing one of those comical aprons. His had an image of an animated woman with a coke bottle figure. Though it looked ridiculous on him, you couldn't help but keep staring at his biceps that poked out from the side of the apron, and of course, he'd been in a muscle tee so that you could see just a bit of his nipple peeking to the public, fuck.
"Oh, baby, is this your daughter you told me so much about?" The woman had smiled at you.
You scoff.
It was condescending in how the woman had addressed you; it was how she had called Rafe baby; she'd said it like they'd been together for years. 
And it was how effortlessly beautiful she was. She looked like the type of woman Rafe would go for, prose and expensive-looking. 
It was also how she'd mistaken you for Rafe's daughter rather than for what you were: the tightest cunt Rafe had ever been in.
Rafe peered at you for a quick moment, flipping over another rib.
"Uh, no, she's one of my daughter's friends." Rafe said, his demeanor starting to change to cold and stern. "The foods not done yet, kid." He swated you away.
You scoff again, he knows you're not here to talk about the food. And who does he think he is calling you that, kid, tsk.
You weren't a kid when you could take all 9 inches of him, back then you were a "good girl."
"Rafe--Mr. Cameron, Can we talk? In private? It's about Maribella." You lied.
He barely looked at you as he spoke, "Can't it wait for later, I'm busy?”
"It's important."
"I don't know, baby, if it's about your daughter, you should see what she wants, I can look after the grill." The woman said.
With a look of disdain, you looked at the blonde woman, but had it not been for her, Rafe would not have listened. Just as Rafe was about to remove his apron, the woman seized his jaw and pulled him into a kiss.
In a moment of unawareness, your hand inadvertently swept across the small glass bowl of barbecue sauce, unintentionally shattering the glass and causing some of the sauce to spill onto the women's Prada sandals.
"Oops." You shrug, storming off into the house, in the mitts, you glanced at Maribella, you were thankful she'd been resting with her eyes close and had her earbuds in.
You felt Rafe trailing behind you hot, the sound of his sandals clucking on the ground being the only thing you can focus on.
You attempt to rapidly close the sliding patio door before he could reach you, but it was too late, Rafe had caught onto the door.
"You're really childish, Y/N, you know that?" he spats.
You sped walked through the vacant house, no route in mind.
"Do you hear me little girl?" Rafe sternly says, as if he were talking to Maribella.
Suddenly, you felt the piercing sensation of Rafe's grip on your wrist, and your body being jerked. "Hey--Listen to me when I'm speaking to you."
Under Rafe's grip, you'd been in his mercy, as you looked up into angry eyes.
"Is there a reason why you're acting like such a brat?"
"It just doesn't make sense." You said, your voice shaky from the sound of the lump forming in your throat. "What does she have that I don't? A good credit score, a stable job?"
you struggle to get out of Rafe's hold, but his grip on you was too tight.
"Need I remind me you that you ended things with me?" Rafe gritted.
"But I didn't expect you to move on so quickly!" You shouted. " Did I mean nothing to you?"
Rafe squeezed your wrist, coming closer to your face. "Lower your tone when you're talking to me little girl."
"Fuck you." you sniffled, tears running down your cheeks. You didn't mean to say it, but it was in the heat of the moment, and you were angry.
Rafe's eyes grew darker, and his face had grown angrier, and just by the way he roughly dragged you through the house, you knew you had fucked up.
"Rafe! You're hurting me!" you cried, as he dragged you up the stairs.
"Shut up!" He spat at you. "Of all the nice things I've done for you in the past, this is what I get? A fuck you? 'Dad, Y/n has a flat tire but doesn't have the money for a new one.' 'Dad, Y/n is $100 short on her rent this month.' " Rafe mocked his daughter.
"I'm the one that let your pouge ass even come near here and my daughter, but fuck me, right?" he said.
As Rafe dragged you onto his master bedroom, locking the doors behind him, you felt the tears spilling from your eyes because of how bad you felt remembering all the other ways Mr. Cameron had helped you that hadn't been sexual.
Rafe had pushed you onto the bed, grumbling to himself as he started untying his apron, you watched him with wide eyes as he paced.
"What are you going to do to me?" you squeaked.
"I'm going to fuck some sense into you, because who the hell do you think you are speaking to me like that?" he spat.
"Fuck you." He mocked, grumbling to himself.
And before you knew it, Rafe grabbed the back of your head and his lips had angrily crashed into your tear soaked ones.
As your lips parted, the salty taste of your tears mixed with the sweetness of Rafe's kiss. It was a kiss born of anger and passion, a kiss that set your skin ablaze.
Rafe's hands moved deftly, untangling the knot of your bikini top. Your breasts, full and heavy, spilled free.
Rafe's touch was both urgent and tender, a contradiction that mirrored the storm of emotions swirling within you both.
As Rafe's lips trailed down your neck, you felt a shiver run through your body, a sensation that was both thrilling and comforting. It was as if all your senses had come alive, each one crying out for more.
As Rafe kissed your neck, his hands played with the hem of your bikini bottom, his fingers tempting to touch your most prized possession.
"Rafe, I need it." You whined, as he put your hand in your bikini bottoms, using his palm to cup your wet heat. "I need you."
Not long after, Rafe's hand slipped out of your bottoms. He was now unbuckling the belt to his shorts and pulling down his pants and briefs.
Rafe didn't even bother to pull your bikini bottoms down before pushing all 9 inches into your cunt; he fucked you through the makeshift opening he made by hooking his fingers through the crotch of your bottom. 
Rafe's thrusts were urgent and deep, causing you to yelp at the bitter sweet intrusion.
Usually Rafe was slow with the first couple of strokes inside of you--so your cunt could accommodate to his size--but today he was merciless.
Because of the wetness of your cunt, Rafe's cock had easily slipped in and out of you, but to you each thrust felt like a burning sting.
Nonetheless, You moaned as he filled you, your hands grasping at his back, pulling him closer and closer.
Rafe cerulean eyes never left yours--if you could describe the look on his face, you would describe it as a look of hatred, but as you looked down to where your bodies connected--the slick that coated yours and his sex organs--this wasn't hatred. So what was it?
You called out his name in pleasure.
The makeshift opening in your bikini bottoms stretched to accommodate his thickness, the thin fabric digging into your skin as he pounded into you. With each thrust, he pushed your body further into his soft bedsheets. With each thrust he pushed you further into pure bliss.
"This is why I don't fuck with young girls." Rafe muttered. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he sought to go even deeper.
"You all are too needy and in for it because of the daddy issues." He said under his breath. Then suddenly, as if it was used for leverage, Rafe's hand clasped around your throat; your mouth had formed the shape of an '0'.
As his pace quickened, your breath quickened too, short gasps escaping your lips.
Rafe's mouth had been inches away from yours; you arched your back just enough to hover over his plush lips, and you sucked in his breath as his grip tightened around your gullet. 
Rafe kissed you, his tongue swiping the inside of your mouth.
The sensation of being so full, of being taken with such urgency, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You knew this encounter was reckless, but the thrill of it only added to your arousal. You wanted this—needed this—and as Rafe's thrusts became more frenzied, you knew he was close.
And just by the way your cunt had fluttered around his length, you knew that you were close too.
And then, just as you gone to moan, you heard a knock at Rafe's door.
"Sweetheart? Are you in there?"
It was her.
Rafe's hand--the one clasped around your throat, now covered your mouth.
His cock had faltered inside of you once he heard the sound of her voice, but he kept fucking you anyway.
"Uh-yeah, babe, I'm just taking a break from the party." He said, his eyes penetrating through your skull; his voice sounded as if he weren't penetrating through your cunt. 
"Oh, ok. Just telling you the ribs are done, should I put the hot dogs on next?" She asked, clueless about her boyfriend fucking his daughter's best friend. 
You found yourself enjoying how fucked up this was--how satisfying it was to know that Rafe was fucking you and not her right now.
"Yeah--shit--" involuntarily, your cunt had squeezed Rafe's length. "Fuck. Y-yeah do that." Rafe said. 
"Or maybe I can join you? "Take a break" from the party together?" The woman had said seductively, causing you to roll your eyes at her pass at Rafe. 
"Say the word, Y/N." Rafe whispered. "Say the word and I can have her gone."
You had hoped the room had been soundproof from the way Rafe pace had quickened. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the air, a testament to the intensity of your passion.
You moaned loudly, but it had been muffled by Rafe's palm. Your nails digged into his shoulders as you matched his rhythm.
"Baby?" The woman said.
Your breath quickened as you neared your peak, Rafe eyes never leaving yours. "Say the word." he mouthed.
Fuck did you want Rafe, fuck did you want him so bad.
But Rafe wasn't supposed to be "Rafe" to you; he was supposed to be Mr. Cameron.
And Mr. Cameron wasn't supposed to be fucking you. 
You both had crossed a line, and there was nothing more to your relationship than what was behind that line. No matter how much you daydreamt about it, this--you and Rafe together--could never be a thing.
With a final, powerful thrust, you'd reached your climax. Shortly after, Rafe had reached his own, his body tensing as he filled your cunt with his release. 
You could feel his warmth inside you, a satisfying sensation that left you breathless and wanting more and, more evidently, filled with dread.
As he slowly withdrew, you could feel his length slide out of you, leaving you with a delicious emptiness that only he could fill.
When Rafe realized you weren't going to tell him to tell her to leave, he made a face at you, a face that said- if you didn't know any better- he was disappointed by your choice. 
"Baby, are you alright in there?" The woman said. 
"Yeah, could you, could you give me a moment?" Rafe had asked her, and shortly after, you heard the obnoxious flapping of her Prada sandals flapping away.
Rafe got himself situated before helping you. 
He tied your bikini top back to its place and your bikini bottoms.
And then gotten a warm towel and wiped the dried tears on your cheeks, and then he wiped away the remainder of his and your cum that slid down your thighs. 
You kind of just sat there with your head looking at your lap, trying to avoid Rafe's gaze.
"Will you stay for the rest of the barbecue?" Rafe asked. I would really appreciate it if you did." 
Rafe had waited for you to say something, but you never did. When he realized you weren't going to say anything, he had nothing to say himself, as he figured that it was officially over between you two, and what more can you say once you've reached the end of something? 
Tag list- @nemesyaaa @theeternaloptimistt @xcinnamonmalfoyx @starkeysbebe 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
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megankoumori · 2 years ago
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In defense of a "Wicked Stepmother":
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Sarah's Stepmother in "Labyrinth", named Irene in tie-in media, only gets about a minute of screen time before Sarah rushes off to her room in a soaked snit. Fanfic writers usually turn her into an evil bitch and even the manga sequel, "Return to Labyrinth", has her cold and abusive to Toby, her biological child. But here's the thing...
I think Sarah's mother gets a bum rap.
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Dressing nicely for an evening out and having mild conflict with a teenager does not a Lady Tremaine make. And as someone who actually lived with a narcissistic, manipulative, emotionally abusive stepfather, I can tell you that Irene doesn't even come close to wicked step parent territory.
Backstory first. It's never spoken of in the film, but clues in Sarah's room tell us that her real mother is a stage actress who abandoned her and her father for another actor. Sarah idolizes her mother and tries to emulate her with play acting. Sarah's father met and married Irene sometime after Linda ran off, and Sarah, who thinks her mom walks on water, resents the hell out of Irene for taking her place. A place that Linda abandoned for another man.
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She couldn't help it. He looked like David Bowie.
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Let's look at her first alledged transgression. She won't let Merlin into the house. Instead she orders him into the garage. Heartless, we assume because we all love dogs and only the most soulless of monsters don't. But slow down. She didn't leave him out in the rain. She put him in the garage. Furthermore, Merlin is an Old English Sheepdog. Is he a nice dog? Sure, but he's also a breed that's notorious for being high maintenance and hard to keep clean and right now he's soaking wet and filthy. Irene isn't being cruel, she's trying to keep him from ruining the carpet.
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So now Sarah and Irene are in the house about to have their confrontation. "Sarah, you're an hour late..."
Sarah lost track of time. Sarah is the one who screwed up. Irene has every right to be frustrated. For all we know, she and Robert were supposed to see a movie or meet someone and Sarah's tardiness wrecks their plans. Note, please, that while she is frustrated, she's not even yelling. My mom would have screamed bloody murder and then held it over my head for weeks.
"Your father and I go out very rarely..."
"You go out every single weekend!"
There is no way to confirm who is right on this. I will say Sarah is the one prone to hysterics and exaggeration, so it's not looking good for her.
"And I ask you to babysit only if it won't interfere with your plans."
I ask. Irene asks. She doesn't demand, and she doesn't expect Sarah to give up her previous plans.
"Well how would you know what my plans are? You don't even ask me anymore!"
Sarah, you were LARPing in a park by yourself. Furthermore, with the storm you would have gone home anyway.
"Well I assume you would tell me if you had a date. I'd like it if you had a date. You should have dates at your age."
Irene doesn't want Sarah to be a Cinderella stuck at home every night. She wants her to go out and have a social life. This is literally the opposite of the bedtime story Sarah tells Toby later.
Also, "I'd assume you tell me..." Irene might not be wording it in the best way here, but she wants Sarah to communicate with her. She wants them to have a relationship.
Then Robert enters the scene. "Sarah, you're home. We were worried about you."
WE were worried. As in both he and Irene. You think that's the reason she was waiting on the porch? Because their sixteen year old daughter is an hour past when she said she'd be home and now it's raining and getting dark?
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It's not like she'd ever talk to a stranger.
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Sarah runs up the stairs in a snit, not even acknowledging her father and leaving Irene dismayed. "She treats me like a wicked stepmother in a fairy story no matter what I say." Her voice isn't angry, it's hurt. She's making an effort to reach Sarah, but nothings working. She can't break through the tantrums and the anger and the hero worship of Linda.
Sarah is a fantasy junkie. It's all over her room. Her books are all fairy tales. Her dog and her teddy bear are named after figures from Arthurian legend. But she's wrapped herself in a different kind of fantasy, a toxic one. One where Irene, well meaning and kind, is one of the evil stepmothers from her fairytale books, while Linda is good and virtuous like one of the dead moms at the beginning. Except Linda isn't dead. She's shtupping a costar.
Part of Sarah's coming of age and maturity is rejecting Jareth, the stand in for her mother's lover and therefore finally rejecting following her mother's selfish path. We see her finally let go of Linda by putting her picture and clippings in the drawer. Hopefully, the next morning, after she picks the confetti out of her hair, she'll finally be able to start over with Irene.
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joekeeryswife · 1 year ago
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arranged marriage 1 - f.c
hey honeys! i hope you enjoyed my last imagine. writing for Felix legit has me in a chokehold. dickhead!felix (im sorry!) mean reader at the start then she turns sweet, i also suck at endings so please ignore how bad it is and the spelling mistakes lol.
anyways, here’s another angst to fluff imagine, Felix is 22 and reader is 20! enjoy reading 🩰
taglist🩰 (add yourselves here): @hummusxx @lalademie @kikiandbella @anamiad00msday @saltburntt @livvy256 @gee72sstuff please make sure your @ are on otherwise i cannot tag you!!
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“mum seriously? Felix? as in the only person i absolutely hate with a passion Felix?” your mum rolled her eyes at your outburst. it wasn’t a shock to her that you were mad, you and Felix had grown up together but for some reason the two of you never got along. your parents had grown up together and had obviously been planning this for some time.
“i’m sorry sweetheart but yes, it will be good for the two of you to finally get along, he is a really sweet boy you know” you huffed “we could get along without getting married? i mean, i’m only 20 years old. i have my whole life ahead of me to get married” you ran a hand through your hair.
“why do i not get a say in this? shouldn’t i be able to say yes or no to this?” you were frustrated, you hated Felix. and no marriage certificate was ever going to change that. “stop being silly y/n. Elspeth is so excited to have you as a daughter in law, she loves you” your mum tried to end it there but you were not giving up.
“dad please tell her she is being irrational, there is no way you have agreed to this as well” you looked over at your dad “i’m sorry honey but i have agreed and so has the Catton family. you have no idea how good this would be for us, you will be bringing two very strong bloodlines together” you wanted to scream.
marrying Felix was the worst possible thing to probably ever happen in your life. Felix was an asshole to you, rude, snobby and ignorant. he thought he was this incredible man but in reality he was just a bastard, and you would be marrying him? you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you.
“i’m sure the two of you will get along just fine, you’re being a little dramatic honey. you’re going to have a beautiful dress, a beautiful ceremony, it’ll be amazing. and Felix is a very a handsome boy and you are a gorgeous girl, your kids will be absolutely perfect” you choked on your saliva
“kids? mum are you joking? i’m begging you, please don’t force me to marry him, my life will be a misery” your mum shook her head. “enough. this is final. you will marry Felix, end of story” your dad said making you and your mum look at him. you did not ever think that you would be in an arranged marriage with Felix Catton.
“now, get ready darling, we are going to saltburn to celebrate” this was going to be hell.
-♡-
“Felix darling, will you come here for a moment please?” Felix heard his mother call out as he walked past the living room. he saw his mum and dad sat on the sofa next to each other with huge smiles on their faces. he walked into the living room and sat on the sofa opposite the two of them “should i be worried?” he said jokingly, running a hand through his disheveled hair.
“no of course not” his mum laughed. “we have some news for you which you may not like the sound of at first, but, i think the idea will grow on you” his dad said, excitement filling his voice.
“we have been speaking to y/n’s parents” Felix rolled his eyes at the mention of your name. “and we have all collectively decided that it’s time for the two of you to finally know that you will be getting married” Elspeth squealed in excitement.
his jaw dropped “isn’t that amazing? oh god it’s so nice for the secret to finally be out” his father seemed just as ecstatic as his mother.
“you are joking right?” his mothers smile faltered “no, it’s not, you two are getting married. oh i am so thrilled Felix, we have been planning this for ages and now that you both know i think it’s really set it in stone.” he shook his head at her.
“no, absolutely not. i’m sorry but there is no way in hell that i am marrying y/n” he shook his head and laughed. “this is bullshit, we fucking hate each other, why the fuck would you two even think that is a good idea?” he felt sick. “Felix, don’t use that type of language please” Elspeth said.
“mum, she’s a bitch. you really think i want to marry her?” James shook his head “she is a lovely girl. it’ll be good for us Felix. and it will be nice for you two to get along” Felix scoffed at his father. “you guys can plan this as much as you want, but i am not marrying that girl. i am 22 years old and i am old enough to make my own decisions, no is no”
“you will be, sorry Felix but it’s already started to be planned. the two of you will be getting married so you best start to try and get along. you guys will be moving into a lovely house after your honeymoon, you two will be fine” Elspeth said, her voice stern.
“now, since you know the news, go get ready. we are having a huge party to celebrate your engagement” he scoffed and walked away from his parents. this was going to be a long night.
-♡-
your mother had already picked out your engagement party dress and to be honest she did a good job of picking it. the dress wasn’t too over the top which you were grateful for. this whole idea of getting married to someone you hated was a lot of getting used too. you didn’t even have a ring yet which you knew would make it feel more real.
when you envisioned yourself your life you didn’t expect to get married for a few more years, and you would be getting married to someone you actually loved. you never thought your parents would force you to get married to anyone, let alone Felix. “are you excited for the party?” your mum said pulling you out of your thoughts.
you gave her a tight lipped smile and nodded “look, i know it’s not what you wanted but we wouldn’t do it if we didn’t think it would work out. you and Felix will love each other in no time. i think when you two spend time together you will start to really like him” she grabbed ahold of your hand.
you were honestly willing to try the marriage thing for the sake of your parents, Felix was nice to everyone but you and you wanted to find out why. “oh, we invited practically everyone we know so be prepared to show fake smiles” she added as you stopped outside of Saltburn. knowing that you had to be lovey dovey with Felix made you anxious, it’s not like it was going to be easy when the two of you despised each other.
“right, let’s get this over with” you said as you exited the car, your mum scoffed “don’t speak like that y/n, you will enjoy yourself” she said as she linked her arm with your fathers. you followed behind the two of them and looked around the front garden of Saltburn, it had been covered in all different types of gold decorations.
Duncan the butler was waiting for you all at the front of the house, even though it was a party his face was still nonchalant. “theyre all waiting for you in the back garden, guests have already began to arrive.” your mother and father thanked him and made their way inside “not even going to break a smile for me, this is a party after all” you joked “enjoy the party y/n” he said making you laugh and brush past him. there was no breaking Duncan.
you made your way to the back garden which was just like the front, covered in gold decorations with guests slowly filling every section dressed in their party attire. you spotted Elspeth, James and Felix with your parents and you knew you would have to go over there. you put on your best brave faces d made your way over there.
Felix looked miserable as he stood next to his mother his eyes fixated on the grass. he hated the thought of you, he hated the thought of the two of you getting married even more. “aww there is the beautiful bride to be” he heard his mother say which made him look up from the ground.
now, even though you and Felix hated each other, there was no way he’d lie and say you weren’t beautiful because you were. you were one of the most beautiful people he had ever met. but that didn’t change the fact that he thought you were the most annoying person he’d ever met.
“gosh you look gorgeous” Elspeth said as you finally stood next to your parents. she pulled you into a hug and kissed your cheek. “now that you are here we can talk to you both. we know that the two of you don’t get along but we are very happy that you are going along with the arrangement. we promise you both that it will be all worth it in the end” James spoke quietly but loud enough for you all to hear. they obviously didn’t want people knowing that it was an arranged marriage.
“we will see about that dad, this is the worst day of my life” Felix said shaking his head. hearing him say that hurt you a little bit and you didn’t know why. you didn’t show the hurt on your face and you were quick with a comeback “likewise, i’d rather drown in bleach then have to marry you but here we are”
“why don’t the two of you go talk to one another about it? it might be good for you two to have an actual conversation instead of arguing all the time. go to the library, there isn’t anybody in there” Elspeth said looking between the two of you. “oh and if you see any guests and they congratulate you, please act like the two of you love each other” she added as the two of you started, asking your way to the library.
the walk to the library was silent until one of the Henry’s and his wife stopped the two of you “there is the happy couple. we have been waiting for the two of you to get together since you were young. you look gorgeous together” Henry’s wife said. your sour expression was quickly forgotten and you tried your best to show you were happy by putting the fake smile on your face.
you felt Felix’s arm go around your waist. “thank you, it didn’t take too much convincing” you said as convincing as possible. “let me see your ring dear, it must be beautiful” your eyes widened, you did not think about that at all. “it’s at the jewellers, i accidentally got the wrong size so we need to get her a temporary ring until her real one comes back” Felix was quick with his answer.
“how did you propose Felix? was it romantic?” you both nodded “very, we were on a couples holiday. we went for dinner and then we went for a walk along the beach and i just got down on one knee when i felt like the time was right” how was he so quick with these answers?
“wow, that is truly romantic. anyways, we don’t want to keep you guys for any longer. congratulations you two” with that the two of them walked toward the garden. “how the fuck did you come up with that so quickly?” you said as you both also continued walking. “dunno, i just made it up” his voice was flat and his arm dropped from your waist.
the two of you reached the library and Felix closed the door behind him. you sat on the sofa and he sat next to you awkwardly “so, how are you feeling about this situation then?” you spoke trying to stop the awkwardness. “how do you think? i’m being forced to marry a girl who i despise” he scratched the back of his neck.
“well, i’m not ecstatic about it either but, we have to do it. we just need to try and be nice to one another and i think it could work out. it’s gonna be awkward but-” he cut you off quickly “do you really think i’m gonna try work this out? with you? you must be out of your mind” he started, you didn’t like where this was going at all.
“you are the most annoying person i’ve ever met, you do realise this marriage is just to make our parents look good? there is no way i will try work this out with you. i will never like you, i will never love you. you’re just going to be a person i’m being forced to live with” you looked at him “you are unlovable. no one will ever fall in love with you, you are that frustrating. your parents probably agreed to this marriage because they know no one else will fall in love with you” his tone was harsh. hearing him say that broke you.
you could feel your eyes filling with tears which you tried to conceal as best you could but it was no use. even though you hated him his words cut deep. “that’s a really fucked up thing to say” you shook your head and got up to walk away, slamming the library door as you walked to the nearest bathroom. you could feel your chin quiver as you sniffled, trying your best to keep your tears at bay.
Felix knew that was a low blow, and he regretted his choice of words as soon as they left his mouth. he was left in the huge library, the deafening silence making him feel even worse for how he spoke to you. the two of you always threw insults at each other but nothing like that, ever.
he could tell that you were trying to make the best out of a shitty situation and he had to ruin it by overstepping the mark. he knew that he was going to have to apologise to you because he did, that time, take it too far. he spotted Theo, another butler stood at the end of the hallway. “did you see where she went?” he asked him as he shoved one of his hands in his pocket.
“she walked into the bathroom down that way sir” Theo pointed in the direction you had gone, he nodded “thanks” he started making his way to the bathroom and once he was outside the door he could hear your quiet sobs. he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t think the person he was about to comfort would be you let alone for something he said.
he knocked on the door gently, he heard your sobs stop. “who is it?” you called out, trying your best to hide the waver in your voice. “can i come in?” he questioned. he was stood outside the door for a couple of minutes before he heard you unlock the door. he walked into the bathroom and saw you sat on the floor next to the door.
he cautiously sat down next to you, not knowing how you were going to react. “look, i’m sorry for what i said. that took it too far and i am truly sorry. i’m just stressed about the situation and i took it out on you and i shouldn’t have done that” you just nodded and looked down at your lap.
he sighed, he knew that both of you would have to figure out a plan. the two of you were getting married which seemed scary to both of you and if you went through with it with out a plan it would just crumble. he spoke “so” you looked up from your lap to look at him “we need a plan” you nodded again. “how do you wanna do this?”
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corkinavoid · 1 month ago
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DPxDC Hogwarts AU [pt. 2]
The second time they meet, Tim actually knows a little more than nothing about him.
He knows Daniel is Vladimir Masters godson, set to inherit the man's title, and he knows that his birth parents are both wizards, albeit eccentric ones. No one would tell him how they are eccentric, not to mention why.
He knows the boy is a second child among the three, and his older sister is going to Hogwarts next year while his younger one had just turned five. And Daniel himself is seven, just like Tim, which means they will be in the same year eventually. He doesn't know whether he likes that or not.
He doesn't know nearly enough about him to form an opinion.
What he does know, though, is that he absolutely doesn't like Samantha Manson.
Mother had met Mr. and Mrs. Manson at that same party that Daniel kind of ruined (Father's words, not his, Tim thinks that elephant trunks were an improvement), and, upon finding out that they have a daughter Tim's age, decided they should be friends. Which is how Tim found himself sitting in an offensively pink room on an uncomfortably soft pink couch that is threatening to swallow him whole, right across a girl in a pink dress and with a pink bow in her hair. Granted, they are all different shades of pink, but Tim still feels very out of place in his black pants and pale blue shirt with a tight collar.
However, the most unsettling part about all this is that Samantha hadn't said a single word in about ten minutes - so, since they were left alone in this horror of a room by their respective mothers - and Tim is fairly certain she hadn't blinked once, and she is glaring something awful at Tim. For all that he knows, she is probably coming up with a detailed plan of burying his dead body in the garden.
Tim honestly tried to start a conversation. Twice. The girl looked like she didn't even notice, so Tim just kind of resigned to his fate and decided to simply wait until this was over.
He really regrets not bringing a book with him.
Another few minutes pass in silence, interrupted only by some cheerful chirping of birds outside. And then, right as Tim starts to actually consider flopping down on the soft pillows behind him and falling asleep, he hears a knock.
Samantha turns her head to the window so quickly that Tim is afraid her neck will snap. But, as he follows her example and looks outside, he can't help but blink in surprise.
Daniel Fenton, wearing some kind of red jacket with a hood - definitely muggle by the looks of it - is hovering just outside the window. On a broom. They are seven, they are not supposed to have brooms yet! Or, at least, not the ones that can go all the way up to the window on the second floor!
"Bloody finally," Samantha rolls her eyes and jumps off her seat, nearly running towards the window, "What took you so long?" She demands an answer in a snappish tone that allows no excuses.
Daniel grins and shrugs, "Jazz almost caught me sneaking out," he explains, but his gaze is not on Samantha. Instead, he is looking over her shoulder, right at Tim, before asking, "Who's that?"
The girl turns around and scowls, "A boy that my Mum wants me to marry."
Tim sputters, feeling his cheeks heat up, but not out of embarrassment; it's mostly just frustration. She most definitely does not, they are seven, and their mothers can't be making plans like that!
Can they?..
Daniel laughs, bringing the broom closer to the window and setting one foot on the widowsill for balance.
"I would have invited you with us, but I only have one broom," he tells Tim, still smiling. Tim bites his lip.
He wants to go with them so badly. They look like whatever they are about to do is going to be way more interesting than Tim's whole life. But Mother will probably be upset, and-
"Don't bother, he is boring," Samantha huffs dismissively as she pulls the skirt of her dress up and climbs out the window, carefully holding on to Daniel's shoulder as she gets on the broom behind him.
For some reason, that makes Tim angry.
He sticks his chin up higher, straightening up in his seat and frowning. "I don't see how your inevitable fall from a broom is interesting anyway," he drawls, far more mean and uncaring than he wanted to.
"See? Boring," Samantha smirks, but Daniel just looks a bit confused and thrown off.
"I'm not gonna fall," he tells Tim with a certainty that makes Tim kind of want to apologize. But the girl behind him is still smiling like she won something, and Tim is not about to back down now.
"Live with that illusion all you want," he huffs and turns away, still keeping his back straight.
"Come on, Danny, let's go," Samantha urges her friend impatiently, and Tim is decidedly not looking in that direction. He doesn't want either of them to see him pouting. Also, maybe he just doesn't want to see them fly away.
But he still hears a quiet "Bye," from the window before the room goes back to silence, interrupted only by the chirping birds and rustling leaves.
When, mere moments later, Tim looks back to the window, both of them are gone without a trace.
—☆—☆—☆—
Visuals!
The offensively pink room and the way to escape:
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Tim's opinion on Sam:
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[Picrew]
—☆—☆—☆—
More notes on the people and the world around:
Mansons are, actually, filthy rich. They are a wizarding family, but they are way less concerned about blood purity than people expect them to be. A part of their business involves muggle products, and while they don't advertise it, they don't try to hide it either. Jeremy never attended Hogwarts, he was a Beuxbatons student, and Pamela was a Slytherin. Both of them don't exactly like Danny for separate reasons, but Pam likes to keep Vlad as a friend, and if that means letting Sam be friends with his godson, then so be it. She still tries to keep their contact to a minimum, but it's not like Danny - or Sam, for that matter - cares.
Janet and Pamela did not, in fact, plan to marry their kids; they just liked each other enough to have tea together and decided to combine it with throwing their children at each other. Although Pam does consider Tim a fitting pair for her daughter. Janet is of a different opinion.
The broom Danny took actually belongs to Jack - or, it belonged to him a few years ago, up until Danny realized the kiddie broom is not fun anymore. Jazz is constantly scared he is going to fall and break his neck, but Maddie thinks her son is good enough of a flyer. Besides, even if they did take the broom from Danny, he would just find a different thing to break his neck with, so Maddie just put a bunch of disillusionment charms on the poor broom so Danny won't be noticed by muggles and called it a day.
This is very much not the first time Danny comes to save Sam like she's a maiden in a tower. Also, Sam is not mean out of nowhere, she just likes Danny and hates sharing, and she is seven.
[<- part 1 | part 3 ->]
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witchezandwonderz · 3 months ago
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The Crown’s Rebellion
Pairing: Jacaerys x Reader
Summary: Prince Jacaerys is forced into a marriage he does not want, bound by his family's schemes. But as they come to know each other, they forge a bond that defies expectations.
Word Count: 1908
A/N: In this story, Jacaerys is 18+, I am unsure of his age on the show as of last but I do not feel comfortable writing for a character under 18. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed:)
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“You have done what, exactly?” Jacaerys breathed, one hand gripping the stone table in front of him and the other rubbing his temple in attempt to prevent the headache that he knew would arrive momentarily. His mother, Rhaenyra scrunched her mouth up and sighed, showing signs of both empathy and sympathy towards her son before stating “it must be done, Jace”. Her words seemed to hold the tone that she was trying to convince herself, rather than him.
Jacaerys did not want to marry, nor had he met a suitable, loving lady in which he wanted to dedicate his life towards. His mother did not offer much detail about the future Queen, however, the information that she did divulge to him was anything but telling. He were to marry ‘a fine lady, from house Massey of Stonedance’ which were his mothers exact words. Jacaerys knew that an arranged marriage would always come at the most random of times, but did not realise quite how little he would have to say in the matter.
“I must be honest with you my son, although the Masseys have in fact pledged their loyalty to me” Rhaenyra paused for a brief moment in order to sip her wine and then continued her words “I am unsure of the truthfulness behind it” Jacaerys blinked at his mother response, unsure of what to say or think. He knew what he wanted to say, but considered the fact that the woman in front of him was not only his mother but the Queen, and that meant that he had to keep his words respectful. Jacaerys used both hands to push strands from his dark hair from his eyes before responding, “mother, are you insinuating that I am to marry, simply to acquire information about your allies?” He asked, furrowing his brows as he spoke. Rhaenyra tilted her head to the side, contemplating the question before briefly nodding “I am afraid that this is exactly what I mean”. This led Jacaerys to feel a multitude of emotions, the main one being betrayal; his mother has always acted with pure love and kindness towards him, and he never would have thought that she would promise him to a complete stranger as though it he had meant nothing. But, he thought, she had changed significantly in recent years.
Unbeknownst to the pair, the house of Massey had the exact same plan. On one icy, somewhat drab morning, Y/N was approached by her father and had a very similar conversation to the one in which Jacaerys had with his mother. Y/N knew the way in which her family were viewed- loyal in the moment and then as soon as there is a change of power, more often than not, so does the Massey’s loyalty. Y/N did not act like this however, she was genuine and kind. She secretly always thought that the only reason her family were branded with such views is due to her father and her father only.
Y/N and Jacaerys did differ, despite the way that they were told being very similar, Y/N felt happy. She had been longing to leave Stonedance and explore what is beyond- she had always been constrained to the walls of her chambers. Despite this, a sadness lingered within her as she remembered that leaving this place, meant having to marry. Y/N had loved before, but the seeming love did not mean much to her father and when he discovered that she had a secret relationship with a ‘commoner’, he sent her love away.
Perhaps it was not love, she thought. I should have been the one to decide that.
The night prior to the wedding, and in turn their first meeting, felt like it lasted a lifetime to Jacaerys for he wanted to meet his wife, and the lack of information given about her sparked the curiosity within him. He sat at dinner playing with his food like a child, as he could not bring himself to eat. Not one person on the table had spoken in, well, the entirety of the dinner. Normally, Jacaerys would not be able to speak before being interrupted by his mother’s husband, and uncle Daemon with one of his peculiar remarks. Unfortunately, Daemon has been gone for a while, with no one sure as to whether he was even part of this ‘family’ anymore.
All individuals who attended left gradually, leaving just Jacaerys and his mother alone. He watched as she swirled her wine around in her cup, a blank expression upon her face. He sat back in his chair, crossing his legs and asked “can you at least tell me her name”, coming across more like a statement or demand. Rhaenyra replied in a quiet voice, “Y/N”.
They both sat in silence for a moment longer while Jacaerys nodded his head, Rhaenyra proceeded to briefly explain that he had met Y/N before, when they were much younger at an apparently very awkward dinner. Jacaerys tried his best to recall meeting her, but he could not.
The task of having to get married, and only meeting your betrothed the moment that you must marry them proved to be quite difficult for the pair. Both for different reasons, of course. Jacaerys was petrified due to a multitude of reasons but Y/N was scared because not only did she have to impress him, but she had to also ensure that all of those who attended the ceremony took a liking to her, as they all had loyalties to him, but had no idea of who she was.
The moment he lay his eyes on her, he thought she may have been the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. The moment she laid her eyes on him, she thought he may have been the most handsome man she had ever seen.
Hours later, the two had still not spoken as they were preoccupied in conversation with various other people. In addition, neither had yet found the courage to engage with the other. One of them would have to make the first approach, and neither party wanted to, as they were too nervous to do so. Eventually, Y/N found the courage to approach her new husband, shyly walked up to him and touched his shoulder gently, causing him to turn around. She thought he had kind eyes, but the expression upon his face contradicted them as he looked most displeased, which consequently displeased Y/N. Both looked at each other for a moment, before Jacaerys said “hello”. Y/N laughed, as she thought it was a pathetically funny attempt of an interaction. Jacaerys seemed to not find this amusing, but secretly did.
“Hello” Y/N smiled before continuing, “I thought that if I did not talk with you now, we may grow old never interacting” she jested. Jacaerys’ lips curved into a small smile, “I in fact should have approached you first, my apologies”. Both of them awkwardly nodded towards each other before Y/N boldly asked “when did you become aware of our marriage?”. Jacaerys told Y/N the story of being told, emphasising much about the recentness of it while not discussing other aspects of the conversation. Y/N mimicked this, also telling him about her conversation with her father. Y/N surprised Jacaerys with her genuineness as she admitted to him that she could not wait to leave her home land. He found himself becoming more fond of her as she spoke, he watched her face closely, analysing her features. The two spent a while getting to know one another, as best as they could while being surrounded by many others.
The time to resign arrived, and although they had been conversing the entire journey towards their chambers, they felt slightly uncomfortable with each other when arriving, as they had not yet been alone and shared the same feeling of nervousness.
Nothing happened between them that night, despite Jacaerys placing his hand on Y/N’s for a short while, the pair still did not know each other well to begin getting too close. It is fair to say that neither of the two accumulate many social skills, and in turn, romantic skills are also lacked.
The first week of their marriage was filled with many enjoyable conversations, they were getting along very well and both felt as though they could begin to become more vulnerable. On one evening, the two were sat within their chambers, sitting close to one another as Jacaerys focused upon Y/N face as she explained her distaste towards her father which included the reasonings as to why. She felt quite emotional, as she had never until that moment divulged such information to anyone other than her own thoughts. Jacaerys did not like to see her become upset, and so he leant forward and gently held her face with one hand, lightly brushing his thumb over her cheek. When she had finished speaking, he took the opportunity to plant his lips upon hers and they shared a sweet kiss. Y/N repositioned herself, closing the gap between them, nuzzling herself in him while letting out a happy hum.
Jacaerys kissed Y/N upon her head and said “I was terrified to meet you”. In response, Y/N lifted her head and moved upwards so that she was looking at him before agreeing “me too”. He laughed, causing her to also laugh as she continued, “I remember briefly meeting you as a child, but not much. I was worried that you would be different to how you are” she admitted. It felt strange to Jacaerys that a week prior, he had been dreading the marriage, whereas now he was becoming not only extremely fond of his wife, but eager to know what the future held for them both. The soothing sound of Y/N's voice interrupted his thought process, "I must admit something to you, but you must swear on the gods that you will not repeat it" she spoke, her voice becoming slightly sterner towards the end of the sentence. Jacaerys nodded, "yes, I swear". Y/N proceeded to explain that her father had instructed her to acquire information, which in turn, led to Jacaerys to divulge what he had also kept from her. Y/N was not surprised nor was she angry that her husbands mother did not trust her, as she knew the personality of her father better than anyone. The two mused at how similar they were.
Despite being content about his new marriage, the way in which his mother conducted this entire ordeal left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wanted to get revenge, nothing awful, of course. He just wanted to get under her skin, slightly.
That night, they gathered with their close family and friends and ensured that they kissed and hugged as obnoxiously and exaggerated as they possibly could. Jacaerys knew it was highly inappropriate to act in such a manner, but he did not care. Not only did he want to ruffle his mothers feathers, he also very much enjoyed having his wife by his side, so close to him.
Rhaenyra looked on, disgusted but thankful and grateful that her beloved son had taking a liking to Y/N, but cursed as she realised it meant that no new information would be sought.
Jacaerys, once again, grabbed Y/N and crashed his lips onto hers, which left her with butterflies swirling around in her stomach. He pulled away and grabbed her face with both hands, gently pecking her forehead and smirked as he said,
"I will absolutely get used to this, my love".
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Text
Christmas in paradise
Summary: After a PR nightmare Clara "kidnaps" her client and best friend Dieter Bravo to a private luxury island to spend six weeks away from all the glitz and glam of Hollywood. Spending so much time together one on one might finally lead to confessions that will make them more than just friends...
Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC named Clara
Wordcount: 10.8k
Rating: E
Warnings: friends to lovers, Dieter being involved in a PR Nightmare, humour, fluff, cooking, getting sober, feelings, kissing, skinny dipping, smut (protected sex, oral sex), happy end
A/N: With all those pics of Pedro on vacation coming out you would think I started writing this fic in the last couple days when actually, I started this fic in November 2023. This is my longest one shot yet, and I hope it does not disappoint!
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Full Masterlist // Dieter Bravo Masterlist
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Clara’s days start early.
They always did. 
Her alarm woke her at 6 am (on good days), she got out of bed, took a shower and drank her first cup of coffee. Had breakfast on her way to the office where she drank her second cup. 
Then after 8-12 hours (sometimes 15 hour days) in her office dealing with her clients she made her way back home, getting take out on her way back. Where she would eat and then fall asleep in front of her TV.
Those were good days. Days Clara preferred. Sometimes she even got free days for herself where she could go and meet her friends (the few she still had) or get a massage at her favourite spa.
She once met Kate Walsh while in the spa and while Clara dealt with celebrities on the daily, thanks to the girlcrush she had on Kate she couldn’t even form a sentence to introduce herself. 
Good days were there. Occasionally. 
But… there were clients who made her life a little more… complicated. Which honestly was the part of her job she enjoyed up to a certain degree. 
That was what PR was for. Dealing with the outside perspective and well… scandals. 
She was married to her job which was why her actual husband, David, felt the need to search for someone who could…. Fulfil his needs more than Clara could. 
The divorce had been unpleasant. 
David and her had been highschool sweethearts, which meant there was no prenup. David had big plans back in college, wanting to open up his own law firm, and become a big name. And even though he was a law student the last thing both thought about at the age of 20 was signing a prenup. 
15 years later Clara came to regret that decision. While David was a more or less successful lawyer, her career had gone through the roof with her own PR Firm and office on the upper west side in New York and in downtown Los Angeles. 
David might have been the one who cheated on her and ended the marriage, but he made sure to take half of everything she owned with him when he left. And the worst part of it was, she didn’t even care. 
Instead on the evening after they had finalised their divorce she went out to dinner with a client of hers. 
Well… he was more like a best friend, yet definitely a client. Probably the most exhausting client she had, but one of her closest friends at the same time. 
Dieter Bravo. 
Dieter and Clara have known each other their whole life. 
They lived on the same street growing up.
They went to the same school 
They both moved to New York at the same time. 
But they only really got to know each other when Dieter was fired from his first manager after he was caught with well… his managers wife in the restroom of a restaurant. 
It was actually Clara’s mother who had called her and given her Dieter’s number. 
Clara signed Dieter as a client and he became like a…. Pimple that wouldn’t go away. In a very nice way. If pimples could be nice.
It was him who was there for her after the divorce. 
Sighing she rolled her head as she sat at her desk, her sixth coffee of the day cold in the mug that said “I’d rather be with Dieter Bravo” that he gifted her a couple years back as a Christmas gift. 
There was a knock on the door and she looked up, her assistant slowly stepping in with a sorry expression, a big bouquet of Peonies in her arms. 
Clara groaned loudly as her assistant set down the flowers in front of her. 
“When did they get delivered?” Clara asked.
“About fifteen minutes ago,” she said. Clara already felt the nerves fluttering in her belly. She never got flowers. The only person who sent flowers was Dieter when he fucked up. 
“Did… Is there any news out yet on what he’s done now?” Clara asked. Her assistant shook her head. 
“But this is… a big bouquet. Bigger than the last time and…”
“It’s my favourite flowers,” Clara sighed, glancing at the clock. 
It was after 5pm already. 
“He sent me flowers too,” her assistant said and Clara blinked at her, slowly. 
“And there’s also lemon sponge cake from the Magnolia Bakery outside….”
Clara took a deep breath, before she reached for her phone. 
“What did he do now?” Clara asked herself with a sigh. 
“I’m going to check all sources and stay in late,” her Assistant said. Clara smiled at her as she looked up. 
“Thank you. Order Pizza too. Whatever he had done now might end up with a night shift. You don’t have to stay though, you know that right?” Clara asked. 
“I know. But my girlfriend is out of town so… nothing else I have planned for tonight anyway.”
“You deserve a raise,” Clara winked.
“Wouldn’t say no to that. You want me to bring the cake in?”
“Let me call him first. Maybe I’ll need the cake to throw it at him when he gets here.”
Clara’s assistant laughed before she left her alone, her phone in her hand. 
Clara unlocked her phone, opening the contacts to search for Dieter’s name, her thump hovering over his name. 
He hadn’t called yet. 
Usually he would have at least tried to call her by now.
Taking a deep breath she pressed the dial button, bringing her phone up to her ear. 
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Dieter was in panic mode.
And for Dieter to hit panic mode, he must have really fucked up. 
But this? This was not even entirely his fault? It happened at his house though which was more than enough. 
It also happened while he was in his house.
At his party. 
With way too many people around he didn’t even know. 
But the line of coke (or two) and some champagne made Dieter forget about how shitty he felt. 
It was high Dieter who fucked up. High Dieter did not think about sober Dieter having to deal with his shit.
Well, high and horny Dieter. Which was…. Daily Dieter. But coke high Dieter was different from weed high Dieter. 
And he was always horny really.
Anyways…
The news broke twenty minutes after he had gotten off the phone with Clara. 
“Senator O’Conelly overdosed at Dieter Bravo’s house party”
Which was something Clara could have handled. But then three hours later came:
“Exclusive: Senator O’Conelly’s wife was having sex with Dieter Bravo while the Senator overdosed”
Which…. Was harder to handle, but Clara was the best at her job, so she had a response prepared.
But then came:
“Leaked: Dieter Bravo’s Sextape”
Which wasn’t a first. It was just the first time he did not know he’d been filmed. Mostly because he was so high, he did not care. 
And this time it was in HD which made “Dieter Bravo Penis” the most googled topic for four days straight.
The senator had fucked Dieter so hard just before he overdosed, he still had bruises from his grip on his waist. Him fucking the senators very willing wife while said Senator overdosed was not Dieter’s fault though. 
And while his PR team tried to handle it, there was only so much they could do once the Senator’s wife gave a very tearful interview making Dieter the one who was responsible for putting the Senator in a coma. 
She conveniently left out how she had sniffed a line of coke herself while he was getting fucked by her husband. 
The only reason the news hadn’t broken earlier was because the Senator’s PR wanted to keep this under wraps but failed because someone on the party had taken photos. And that video.
Fucking Gen Z. Or… whatever. 
While there had been scandals around Dieter in the past, and a lot of them, the shit storm this one turned out to be, seemed not to end that soon. 
Of course the Senators PR Team pinned the whole story with him as the boogeyman. 
Dieter had a reputation so it wasn’t that hard. 
What was hard was him being forced to drop out of the HBO series he had signed because of the backlash. Or losing the Deal with Kit Kat. 
God the Kit Kat deal. He would be missing the weekly care packages. 
But the hardest was the disappointed look in Clara’s eyes whenever they face-timed. 
He could deal with almost everything, but Clara being disappointed? He couldn’t even explain why it was hitting him so hard, the one worded answers from her and the obviously acted smile she threw his way. 
Clara had become what he would call best friend. If he had friends.
She’s been with him through thick and thin (okay mostly because it was her job to fix his shit) but somewhere along the way the phone calls became more private than professional. He made sure to always have her favourite tea stocked at home for whenever she was in town and… something just wasn’t right when he wouldn’t hear from her every day. 
He’d taken a whole month off once she told him about her divorce and practically moved in with her. 
It was the last time he had been mostly clean. 
Apart from alcohol and weed, but that did not count anyway did it?
“We’re here Mister Bravo,” Dieter looked up at the driver, nodding once at him. 
Dieter had no idea where he would be going. He only got Clara’s message that a car would pick him up at 4:30 am and that she already instructed his PA to pack his suitcases. 
Maybe she was planning to kill him and frankly, he wouldn’t even blame her. What were the suitcases for then though?
Dieter got out of the car, finding himself already on the airfield of the small airport, the car close to a private jet. He saw two younger men carry his suitcases out of the car and put them into the trunk of the plane. 
Dieter looked up into the dark sky, taking a deep breath before he made his way towards the stairs leading into the plane. 
A grin sneaked to his face when he saw Clara sitting already cozied up into a deep blue blanket, her dark hair in a bun on top of her head. Her head turned towards him as she heard footsteps and she sighed exhausted, yet could not fight the smile. 
“One day you are going to be the death of me, Dieter Bravo,” she shook her head and got up to her feet, Dieter meeting her halfway to hug her close and kiss her cheek. She wanted to let go, but he kept his arms around her. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and Clara squeezed him. 
“I know you are,” she whispered, kissing his cheek.
„You gonna throw me out of the plane over the ocean?“ He teased and she rolled her eyes. 
„Don’t give me any ideas,“ she scoffed. 
They both settled into their seats, taking their shoes off as the crew got through the routine of getting ready to take off. 
“So where are you kidnapping me to?” Dieter asked, pulling his glasses off. Clara looked at him. 
“You’re paying for this, so I don’t know if that counts as kidnapping.”
“True.”
“You have to get off the radar of the tabloids. And while I know I could just…. Make you stay at home or force you to another stay at a rehab clinic, I don't really trust you to just stay there by yourself. I know you too well,” she began. 
“So I booked you a 6 week stay on Gladden island. And I’ll be babysitting you.”
“On an island.”
“A tropical private island with 24 hour service.”
Dieter gave her a look. 
“Before you say anything, think about me having to put out a official statement about your penis. Again,” she raised her left eyebrow. 
“But it’s a nice looking penis,” he mumbled with a small pout and Clara groaned. 
“Okay, okay, okay. Six weeks. Private Island. Check.”
“No internet. No drugs. No hookers.”
Dieter pouted even more. 
“You know I’m a sex addict right?”
“Not diagnosed.”
“Dr. Google says otherwise.”
„Then I have a brain aneurysm since I’ve seen the video of you snorting coke of the cock of that senator,“ Clara grunted and Dieter winced.
„No sex, really?“ He whined. 
“I’m afraid it’s gonna be you and your hand from now on.”
“Would you want to have sex with…”
“Please do not finish that sentence. I have a vibrator that will take care of my physical needs and an iPad full of books for the rest, thank you very much.”
Dieter took a deep breath, closing his eyes to stop himself from picturing her with her vibrator, spread on a bed, working herself closer and closer…
“Dieter?”
He opened his eyes. 
“If you want to leave, you have to do it now. But if you walk out of his plane, I won’t be representing you anymore. I know I am getting paid for this but…. I can’t deal with scandals like this anymore.”
His heart squeezed in his chest at the look in her eyes. 
“I won’t leave. I think we both need some time apart from ourselves and our lives,” he said and she nodded before her eyes focused on her iPad. 
“Where exactly are we going?” Dieter asked. 
“Belize.”
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Clara wasn't as exhausted as she thought she would be once they got to Belize. Dieter on the other hand looked like dead on heels. Or… Crocs.
His hair was unkempt, dark circles under his eyes after the 12 hour flight. 
The first thing he did was put on a cigarette, inhaling it like his lungs did not know how to work otherwise. 
Clara took off her sweater, revealing a pink top underneath. 
It was early afternoon in Belize and they weren’t even at their final destination yet. 
More than once she asked herself if spending so much time with Dieter without anyone else around would be a good idea. 
They were friends, of course. But they had never spent more than five days together and that was in a big city when they both could flee at any given point. 
Even in the time he had partially moved into her place they still got out to handle appointments or have dinner.
To flee the private island they’d have to wait for someone to pick them up by boat or helicopter. 
And then there was the drug problem. 
Frankly, Clara did not know how bad it was exactly. She was the last person to judge anyone and their life choices, but she was getting scared something would happen sooner or later to Dieter that would take him from her. 
Which was a strange way to think because he wasn’t hers in the first place. 
But he was a friend.
A good friend. 
Her… only good friend really and she wasn’t even sure if he knew her birthday. Then again he knew other things. 
Like her favourite flowers. And Pastries. And that she talked in her sleep. 
“I’m starving,” Dieter snapped her out of her internal whirlwind. She pulled her hand into her bag, searching for….
Dieter’s eyes lit up like a Christmas Tree at the big pack of Kit Kat’s she held up. 
“You know the way to my heart Clara honey bunny,” he grinned and she rolled her eyes with an affectionate smile. 
“You better share with me, Bravo,” she threw the package at him. 
“Nope,” he said and walked towards the car that was waiting for them already, their suitcases in the trunk .
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This place was beautiful. 
The sun was setting when they got to the port, the sky in so many colours, she couldn’t wait to watch it everyday. 
Dieter was quiet beside her as he watched her watch the sunset. 
There was a soft smile on her lips, her eyes glistening. Maybe he could get some art supplies so he could paint her while they were on the island. 
She didn’t know that in a secluded corner of his studio at home there were some paintings of her that he painted, mostly after coming down from a high. When he felt lonely and vulnerable. 
He only had to think of her to feel a little lighter. A little more himself. 
Maybe this trip was the best idea she could have.
He needed some time away from all of… all of the people who called themselves his friends. 
When Dieter moved to LA almost 25 years ago he was young and full of hope and dreams. 
But the longer he stayed in LA and got into the industry and met more and more people, the more he changed.
Sometimes he wondered what 16 year old Dieter would think of the man he had become. 
Sure, he was a successful actor with an Oscar and some Emmy’s. Also a Golden Globe. And rumour had it the musical he just wrapped filming was on the road to get him another Golden Globe and maybe a Tony too. If he did not get kicked out of the Academy.
But… he couldn’t remember the last time he was 100% sober and clean on a set. 
Or when the last time was he really had fun on a movie set. 
He was getting older and his doctor was getting more and more concerned with the way he treated his body. 
But… it was easier to call his dealer and get some coke or LSD than to talk about his feelings to a therapist. 
It was easier to drink another glass of wine than tell his manager that no, he did not want to make another shitty cliff beasts movie. 
It was easier to get a groupie into his bed instead of finally acknowledging that he had been in love with someone for the last ten years without acting on it. 
Clara smiled at him as she turned her head, letting it fall against his shoulder. 
Dieter closed his eyes to just feel her so close. 
“I am going to be sleeping for the next 24 hours,” she mumbled and Dieter chuckled. 
“Think you can make it to bed or do I have to carry you from the boat to wherever you kidnapped me?” he teased. 
“Don’t want you to break your back, old man,” he could hear the smile in her voice and he dramatically rolled his eyes. 
“I’ll have you know I am working out now,” he said seriously. She looked up at him, suspicion in her eyes. 
“There better not be some kind of sex joke in there…”
“Hey, Cardio is very important. You should try it too,” Dieter grinned. She was about to answer him when someone called her name and she turned around.
“The boat is ready,” the man said. 
“How long until we get there?” she asked, pulling away from Dieter who definitely did not miss her warmth immediately. 
“About 40 minutes.”
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Clara could see the island in the far distance. The last hues of sun had disappeared over the ocean some time ago and it was almost dark. 
Dieter was snoring next to her and she rolled her eyes to herself. 
There was a part of her that was scared of spending so much time with him. Not because they did not like each other. It was clearly the opposite. 
But…. frankly she did not know about how many drugs and things he consumed. She knew after Cliffbeasts he got more careful but apart from that? 
She had been with him at his Doctor’s appointment afterwards where the Doctor told him that he had been incredibly lucky and that he should take this near death experience as a wake up call. 
His heart was already suffering, even though only a little, but Dieter would turn 45 next year. 
And if he continued his life with the substances like this, there was a big chance he would not make it to 50. 
The thought of losing Dieter had put Clara in a state of fear and shock after. 
Yes, she was only his PR Manager. 
And a friend. 
Maybe a very good friend?
And maybe… maybe sometimes her feelings for him lingered on the verge to more but….
She had no right to tell him what to do. 
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It was dark when they finally got to the island, leaving both Dieter and Clara so tired they just let them be shown their bedrooms only to fall asleep quickly after a refreshing shower. 
But while Clara stayed asleep throughout the night, Dieter woke up three hours later, unable to fall asleep again. 
So he put his boxer shorts on (remembering in the last moment that he wasn’t alone and Clara would probably appreciate not seeing his penis again so quickly, even though he kinda wished she would) and explored the villa. 
It was luxurious to say the least. 
He opened the extra large fridge in the kitchen, finding it stocked with all his favourites and some of Clara’s too. 
Where the fuck did she find this place?
His mind wouldn’t shut up so he focused on making something to eat. 
It was how Clara found him almost 4 hours later. The kitchen was in absolute chaos while Dieter had fallen asleep sitting at the kitchen island. Confusion replaced by amusement came to her as she watched the various dishes (or attempts) sitting on the counter. There was a very tasty looking chocolate cake right next to Dieter, his fork still stuck in it. 
Then there were pancakes (sweet with chocolate chips and savoury with bacon), some breakfast muffins too. 
She grabbed one, biting into it, surprised that it actually tasted good, though she should have known. He always had loved to cook. 
She jumped when an alarm went off and Dieter snapped awake, almost falling off his chair. 
“You’re awake! Finally!” he smiled, kissing her on the cheek, while he walked to the stove. 
“How long have you been awake?” Clara asked.
“Dunno. Couldn’t sleep. Made breakfast instead,” he put on the pink mittens, carefully taking out whatever he made. 
“For the whole week?” she asked and he shrugged. 
“No drugs means I have other cravings. And you don’t want to have sex so….. I am making food.”
“Is that… Lasagna?” you asked. 
“After my mama’s recipe,” he nodded proudly, setting the casserole down. 
“It smells delicious,” her mouth watered. 
“Grab a fork and get into it,” Dieter grinned. 
“It’s 7 am.”
“And?” he looked at her with raised eyebrows. 
Clara chuckled before she grabbed a fork. 
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The first day was spent being very lazy, fighting off jet-lag and eating lasagna all day. Dieter told Clara that he had explored the house and might move into the private theatre.
They spend the whole afternoon in the private theatre watching Harry Potter and eating chocolate cake. Clare feel asleep during the second move, her head resting on Dieter’s shoulder. 
And Dieter watched her instead of the movie until he fell asleep too. 
Only to wake up shivering. 
He was sweating, not knowing if he was hot or cold. 
„You okay?“ Clara asked tiredly and Dieter closed his eyes. 
He was fidgeting, nervous. Usually he would take something now. Something to calm him down. 
But he was on a island in the middle of fucking nowhere and hadn’t had anything in almost 48 hours. Dieter closed his eyes, trying to calm his fast beating heart. 
„Wait here,“ Clara said before she got up. 
She knew what this was. 
Before leaving for this trip she had sat down with specialist in drug rehab who tried to explain everything that could happen once his body realised that it would be not getting a new fix. 
Doing this without medical assistance could be scary, but she wanted to help Dieter through it. She wanted him to get better. 
So she got some medication that would help him through it from the doctors. Only through the first couple of days. A doctor would visit them tomorrow and then every other day until Dieter would not need it anymore. 
Clara knew this could be hard. There was a reason that there were rehab centres and clinics for recovering drug addicts. And with Dieter already being in his forties and taking drugs for the, she guessed, at least twenty years…. She just hopped she could help him through this. 
Because she did not want to wake up one day to the news of him passing away from drugs. 
And so she had planned everything. 
Quickly getting through her luggage she grabbed one of the pills and walked back. Dieter was focused on the movie when she sat down next to him, his head turning towards her, his eyes glassy. She could see his hair clinging to his forehead, most likely due to the cold sweat. 
„I know you are probably going to hate me for a bit for bringing you here, but I just want you to know that I love you. And I want you to get better,“ Clara said and Dieter sighed. 
„I’m a real mess huh?“ He asked and Clara found herself smiling, reaching over to brush over his cheek. 
„You just need a little help sometimes. We all do,“ Clara said, before she gave him the pill she had gotten. 
„According to the doctors I spoke to this should help you with the withdrawal symptoms,“ she said and Dieter nodded, not even questioning her as he reached for the pill and swallowed it down. 
„Maybe I should just sleep through the next few days. I never got through more than five days before I quiet rehab,“ he said, disappointed and anxious. 
„Well, you’re stuck here for the next six weeks. With me. Maybe getting away from everything is gonna be what’s good for you in the end,“ Clara smiled before she laid down again next to him. 
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The following week was a long one. 
Clara could see how Dieter was in pain but he never lashed out at her. He slept through most of the day, the doctor who came to visit them helping with infusions of vitamins and everything he needed when he was there.
Clara had taken to sleeping next to Dieter in his bed, wanting to be close in case he needed something. Or in case he got worse. 
More than once she found herself in Dieter’s arms when she woke up in the morning, his breath hitting the back of her neck in warm puffs. 
She knew he was a cuddler, and she was touch starved as hell so enjoyed it whenever it happened. 
By day eight Dieter began to feel better. 
„I can’t believe we’re on a private island and I haven’t even been out to the beach,“ he mumbled into his pillow, some true crime documentary on the tv in his room. Clara had made them some toast and eggs for breakfast which they ate in bed. 
She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this lazy and relaxed. 
„We could just… go outside?“ She suggested, her head tilting towards the open sliding door that opened directly to the pool, private beach and the ocean. 
Dieter followed her line of view, contemplating what getting out of bed and onto the beach would entail. 
He still felt like shit. But not as bad as it had been the day before. Or the day before that. He didn’t know why but somehow it seemed…. Easier this time around. Getting off drugs. Dieter slept through most of it all, the withdrawal symptoms only really hard in the first couple of days. By now he just felt exhausted and wanted to lay in bed all day.
In bed with Clara around who smelled so damn good all the time. 
Meanwhile he couldn’t remember when he even took his last shower. 
Frowning he narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember. 
„You’re thinking this hard about going outside?“ Clara teased and he shook his head. 
„Thinking about when was the last time I took a shower,“ he grunted, before he smelled under his arms, shuddering. 
„It’s been…. Some time….“ She helped, looking at the TV with sucked in lips. He groaned theatrically before he took a deep breath and got out of bed. Yeah, no. He could smell himself and not in a good way. 
„I’m gonna…“ he moved his head towards the bedroom and Clara nodded. 
„I’ll meet you out at the beach after,“ she said, watching him disappear into his en suite bathroom, the door slipping closed behind him. 
She took a deep breath, hoping that the worst was behind them before she got out of bed and began to strip down the sheets to wash them. 
Once the sheets were in the washing machine she went into her room to put on her bathing suit and cover up, grabbing the sun lotion. Dieter was already outside when she walked the short path down to the beach. His bathing shorts were hanging low and she allowed herself to take in the broadness of his back in as he stared out at the ocean. 
„We’ve had this view since we got here?“ He asked as he felt Clara next to him. She hummed and he looked down at her. She had her hair up in a messy bun, her face free of any make up that she usually wore whenever they saw each other. 
Dieter always thought that she was beautiful. 
Had been since he was a child. 
The prettiest princess of all he used to say. 
He used to think they would get married someday. But somewhere along the way he got the offer he always dreamed off and moved from New York to LA and their calls got less and less until they stopped. It had only been his own stupidity that brought Clara back into his life and while she was his PR Manager, she was so much more. 
He didn’t think there was anyone left in his life who would have just taken him out of this toxic environment he found himself in back home just to help him, so he could get better. 
She genuinely cared about him and he wanted to find out if maybe, just maybe she cared more about him than just as a friend. 
Because Dieter had been in love with Clara since he was probably six years old, even though he only realised it around 10 years ago..
„You gonna help me with the sun screen and I help you?“ Clara asked, holding the bottle out. Dieter nodded with a small smile before they walked over to one of the numerous beach chairs and she sat down in front of him. 
„You feeling better after that shower?“ She asked and Dieter opened the bottle. Clara took off her cover up and Dieter swallowed harshly at the amount of skin in front of him he was about to touch. 
„Like a new person. I think…. I think I’m over the worst part,“ he said, squeezing the bottle to bring some of the sunscreen into one of his palms, rubbing it between both hands. 
„I still think about taking drugs all the time though,“ he confessed before he slowly brought his hands down on her back, feeling her jump. 
„Sorry,“ he hummed, beginning to rub the sunscreen into her skin. 
„I already looked for NA places in LA and in New York,“ she said and he found himself smiling. 
„Of course you did. Always prepared,“ he said with a smile and she looked over her shoulder at him with a small smile. 
„That’s what I get paid for,“ she winked before she turned her head back towards the ocean. He stilled for a moment, before he continued to rub the sunscreen in. 
„Is that… Is that the only reason why we’re here? Because of your job?“ He asked, anxious for her answer. She turned around then, sitting in front of him. 
„No. If you were any other client I would have quit back when that video of you your ex wife arguing went viral,“ she said and he sighed, letting his head fall down, chin against his chest. He felt her hand over his and he looked up at her. 
„I care about you and your life Dieter. I just want you to genuinely be happy,“ she said. 
„I don’t know what makes me genuinely happy,“ he whispered, feeling like a scared child. 
Her smile softened. 
„Maybe you’ll use this time away from everything to find happiness, then,“ she winked, before she grabbed the bottle of sunscreen. 
„And now turn around so I can put lotion on your back,“ she sassed and he chuckled before he turned around. 
„It rubs the lotion on it’s skinnnn,“ he said with a squeaky voice, gasping when he felt the cold lotion drip directly on his skin. 
„Do not test me, Bravo,“ Clara warned but he could hear the smile In her voice. 
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It was the day after that he found the atelier on the other side of the villa. Clara was in a call for work and he ventured out, exploring the villa. 
It was a beautiful place of earth she had found. 
Earlier today the doctor had come to visit him and he was glad to find out that he was doing better. The doctor also agreed to help with a surprise for Clara which he would bring with him on his next check up which would be in four days. 
Now he found himself staring out at the ocean as he sat in front of the beginnings of a painting he started, his favourite muse already staring back at him from the canvas. 
Clara’s words of him using this time to find out what makes him happy echoed in his ear as he looked at it. 
It was her. It was always her. 
And maybe he took all these drugs to get over the pain and the feelings of never being good enough for her. 
Because what did he have to offer her? 
He had money, he had a career, he had awards. 
But Clara didn’t care about all of that. She cared about Dieter the person and he had no idea who that was anymore. 
Sighing he got up, making sure to close the door behind him as he ventured towards the kitchen. He could hear Clara talk in the living room just around the corner and he decided to cook something for her. 
What most people didn’t know about Dieter was that he loved to cook. 
He took one look into the fridge and decided to make some carbonara, with fresh pasta of course. He hummed to himself as he searched through the kitchen cabinets for the pasta maker. He knew it was somewhere. He had made the lasagna on the first day from scratch after all. 
As he cut the pancetta, the rest already prepared, the water heating up for the pasta he heard footsteps, looking up to find Clara walk into the big kitchen. 
„Whatcha making?“ She asked with a tired smile, sitting down at one of the barstools at the kitchen island. 
„Carbonara,“ he smiled. 
He had a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder, a white shirt beneath. She could see some paint on his shirt, her smile softening knowing he found the atelier she had set up for him in the house. 
He seemed… lighter. 
The far away look in his eyes was gone, replaced by brightness as he prepared their dinner. 
„Can I help?“ Clara asked and Dieter looked up at her with a warm smile and she felt butterflies in her belly. 
„I saw some garlic knots in the fridge. Maybe you can pop them in the oven?“ He asked. She nodded, getting up from her seat. She prepared the garlic knots, continuing to watch Dieter out of the corner of her eyes. He was roasting the pancetta, the kitchen filling with the smell of it. He walked past her, his hand resting on her hip as he reached for the cheese. 
Giving her a warm smile he got back to work. 
„Maybe you can teach me to cook while we’re here,“ Clara smiled and Dieter grinned. 
„Or I can just continue to cook for you. I like taking care of you,“ he said and Clara was glad her back was turned towards him, her face flushing. 
„And what about once we go home? I gotta go back to sad microwave dinners and take out?“ She asked as she sat back down on the kitchen island. 
„Or you gotta keep me around,“ he said with a wink and she smiled at him. 
„I don’t think my kitchen has been used for actual cooking since I bought the new apartment. It’s kinda lonely there to be honest,“ Clara sighed and Dieter looked up at her. 
„It’s the same with my place. It’s way too big to live there alone. Maybe we should move in together,“ he joked.
Clara’s lips twitched into a smile. 
„Oh yeah? You sure we wouldn’t kill each other within a week?“ She teased. 
„It’s been working just find here,“ he shrugged, his palms resting on the cool surface of the marble kitchen island, as he leaned towards her. 
„You have been asleep most of the time we’ve been here,“ she winked playfully. 
„So I’ll ask you again when we leave,“ he winked back and she chuckled. 
„Do that.“
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„Where would we live?“ He asked later, food eaten and kitchen cleaned. Clara and him had made themselves a fruity cocktail before they walked outside, sitting down in the warm sand, listening to the ocean. The sun had almost set completely and with how far away they were from everything they could see the stars come out, more and more each minute. 
„Mhhhh…. Which one do you wanna hear? The realistic one or the one I would dream of?“ She asked, her head falling against his shoulder as she sat next to him. 
„The one you dream of,“ he said softly, his arm coming around her from behind, his hand resting in the sand next to her hip. 
„I always wanted to live close to the ocean. I’d love to be able to walk on to my little balcony of my very big bedroom and see and hear the ocean first thing in the morning. If we were to live together it would have to be somewhere far away from LA. Somewhere we you could relax and paint and where I could… find an actual hobby instead of working twenty hours a day. Maybe I could take cooking lessons. I like to cook, I am just terrible at it,“ she mused and Dieter smiled. 
„I’ll give you cooking lessons. I told you so,“ he mumbled. 
„But what when you have to work?“
„In this dream reality I don’t work. Honestly? Acting doesn’t make me as happy as it used to. So if we’re talking about dreams? I wouldn’t be an actor,“ he said and she looked up at him. 
„What would you do?“
He hummed, looking away from her and back towards the ocean. 
„Maybe I’d give art lessons to kids. We could set up a room in that dream house of yours for that, right?“ He teased and she agreed.
They continued to look out until the sun had fully set, the only light coming from the house behind them and from the stars above them. 
„Would you have someone live there with us? A boyfriend or husband?“ Dieter asked quietly after a while and looked down at her. She shook her head. 
„In my dream there is no one but you, Dieter,“ she whispered and Dieter felt his heart jump in his chest as one of her hands came to rest on his knee. 
„What about you?“ Clara asked and he took a deep breath, her head tilting up to look at him. Even though it was dark they were so close that she could see all of him. Instead of answering he, his head dipped lower, his nose brushing over hers. 
„I would really love to kiss you, Clara,“ he whispered and she shivered when she felt his breath brush over her skin. 
„Dream you or real you?“ She whispered back. 
„Both,“ he hummed and without any more words she closed the small distance between them, connecting their lips in a soft kiss.
It lasted only a few seconds but they both felt out of breath as they looked each other. 
„I’ve wanted to do that for years,“ he said and she sucked her bottom lip in as she sat herself up so she could get closer. 
„Why haven’t you?“ She asked.
„You were married and I was… am a mess,“ he shrugged with a awkward smile. 
„I can handle your mess,“ she winked and he grinned. 
„I know,“ he said before he leaned in again, kissing her with more eager now, his hands reaching for her, pulling her closer and Clara let him, climbing into his lap, her hands first on his shoulders then in his hair as they kissed, tongues playing with each other.
„I can’t believe I’m kissing you,“ he mumbled against her lips, making her giggle. 
„You imagined it before?“ She asked when they parted, her still in his lap, his arms around her. She had one of her hands in his hair, her other hand on his cheek. 
„Oh yeah. All the time. But I didn’t want to lose you as a friend, so I never made a move,“ he sighed.
„What changed?“ She asked, genuinely curious.
„I think I was getting tired of denying myself the one thing I always wanted,“ he said and her thumb brushed over his bottom lip. 
„Me?“ You whispered and he nodded, kissing her thumb.
„You make things… quiet. Like cocaine,“ he grinned and she rolled her eyes. 
„Do not compare me to the drug that almost killed you,“ she said with an eye roll. 
„Might get addicted to you,“ he mumbled, pulling her closer, kissing her jaw. 
„I think…. I could live with that,“ she whispered as she tilted her head down to kiss him again. 
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When Clara woke up in the morning from that day on, it was in Dieter’s arms. 
And if Dieter wasn’t in bed, he was in his studio, painting away on canvases she wasn’t allowed to see yet. 
The last two weeks had been… interesting. 
She thought the switch from being just friend to… more than friends would be awkward but surprisingly both Dieter and her slipped into… whatever they were now easily. 
At the end of the day not much had changed. 
They were still best friends and loved each other. 
Now they only kissed and touched each other whenever they wanted. And they did that. A lot. 
She could hear the speedboat approaching outside, the doctor that came to see Dieter now only coming once a week when groceries and other things they needed were delivered to their little private island. 
She never in her wildest dreams thought that not only she would love to spend so much time with Dieter but she would not look forward to get back into their old lives. 
But that was still two weeks away. Two weeks, that would hopefully give both of them all the answers they were searching for not only for themselves, but on how their relationship would change once they had to leave their little cocoon. 
She heard Dieters before she saw them. 
His naked feet hitting the wooden floor as he walked towards the main entrance. Only in the last second he seemed to see her, his eyes softening and walking towards her, kissing her softly. 
„Can you stay in our room?“ He asked. 
Another recent change. While they hadn’t actually had sex yet, they had been sleeping in the same bed since the first time they kissed. It was…. So different than both of them had experienced in the past. 
While before Clara, even in the beginning when she was in love with another person, still cherished her own space at night, she basically was attached to Dieter the moment they got under the covers. Something Dieter welcomed with open arms, loving the way Clara felt against him every night. 
She frowned at his request though. 
„Why?“
A grin sneaked to his lips. 
„You trust me?“ Dieter asked, one of his hands on her hip, his other hand pushing her hair behind her ear. He looked excited, so she nodded. 
„Good,“ he kissed her again. 
„Then come and meet me in the living room after your next call,“ he said, having memorised her online meeting schedule by now. 
„Fine,“ she said, still a little suspicious, eyes narrowing playfully, before she turned around, taking one last look over her shoulder before she rounded the hallway, walking towards their bedroom where she had been working from since they gotten here. 
With a deep breath Dieter turned away, walking outside to see if anything was going according to plan. 
His doctor and two other men who were carrying various boxes approached and he hoped it was the surprise that had been delayed due to shipping problems.. 
„You got everything?“ Dieter asked and they all nodded. 
„Awesome. Could you just bring all these boxes into the living room?“ He asked and the two men already walked past him into the house, knowing their way around. 
„You look good, Mr. Bravo,“ his doctor said and Dieter took a deep breath, a smile on his lips. 
„I don’t think I have felt this good in twenty years,“ he said honestly. 
„That’s good. Now, I talked to your therapist after you gave me the contact details. Let’s talk?“ He asked and Dieter nodded, showing the man the way inside. 
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Seconds after Clara’s last call ended, Dieter knocked on the door. 
He had spend the last two hours talking to his doctor and then, after he left setting up a call with his therapist back in LA. 
There were a lot of things Dieter would have to work through, hopefully with Clara by his side as his partner. He was getting anxious only thinking about not spending every single minute of the day with her but he knew life had to somehow carry on once they left here. 
So he would make the most out of the time they had left here, just the two of them. 
He hoped she would like the little surprise he had set up. 
When she opened the door her eyes widened before her hand flew to her mouth covering her mouth as she laughed. 
„Santa?“ She asked and Dieter grinned, his finger flipping the end of his Santa hat playfully. She couldn’t help but laugh when she noticed the matching swim shorts he also was wearing. 
Almost giddy he held up a mistletoe over his head and she snorted before she got on her tiptoes, her arms coming up to cross behind his neck, her lips pressing against his. 
He would never get tired of this. 
„Ready for your surprise?“ He hummed against her lips. 
„A surprise?“ She asked, eyes wide. He nodded. 
„Come,“ he kissed her again before he took her hand and pulled her towards the living room. 
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Her lips parted in shock when she walked into the living room. 
It looked like a Christmas store had exploded in there. There was a fake tree half assembled in the corner, Three big boxes of what she thought were ornaments next to the couch. Strings of Christmas lights that Dieter must have started to unpack lay on the floor in a tangled mess and she could just almost see where he got frustrated before he just let them be. 
She felt his arms come around her from behind, his chest against her back, hugging her close, his chin resting on her shoulder. 
„I know how much you love Christmas. And it’s my fault you aren’t spending it in your Fever dream of apartment this year,“ he teased and she rolled her eyes. He had always teased her about her decorations. 
„So I wanted to do a little something for you. To show you how grateful I am that you never stop believing in me. Even when I don’t believe in myself anymore. And I… I really wanna change this time. I wanna stay sober, be healthier,“ he promised and kissed her cheek. 
„Dieter, this is too much…“ Clara mumbled, feeling the tears in her eyes. 
„It’s not enough. You’ve been dealing with my shit for almost twenty years on and off. Let me start to make it up to you,“ he mumbled against her ear, lips brushing over her skin. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. 
„Okay,“ she whispered. 
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There was something magical about a lit Christmas tree when she could hear the ocean outside.
They had spent all afternoon decorating the tree, Christmas music blasting from the speakers. 
They had sang together (horribly), dance together (sillily), kissed each other breathless (both ready for more).
After they finished he told her that he hadn’t unpacked all the food that had been brought yet. It was when she was sorting through one of the boxes in the kitchen, Dieter also putting stuff away that she found the package of condoms. 
She hummed interested, Dieter looking up at her as she held the condoms up with a raised eyebrow and puckered lips. 
„You expecting company, Bravo?“ She asked, teasing him. 
„I expect nothing. But… I like to be prepared for every scenario,“ he said with a wink and Clara nodded slowly. 
„I know that you had a vasectomy before you got married, and you know I had my tubes tied like ten years ago, right?“
He walked over towards her, nodding. 
„I also know I haven’t had my blood tested in a while. So….“ He shrugged, his hands on the kitchen counter behind her, caging her in. 
„Would you like to have sex with me, Dieter?“ Clara whispered, her lips kissing up his chin with a smile that only widened when she heard him groan. 
„More than anything,“ he said, dipping this head so he could catch her lips in a deep kiss. 
„Tonight?“ You asked and he groaned against her lips, his body pressing against Clara’s and she could feel him. 
„Tonight,“ he nodded, kissing her once more before he took a step back and moved back towards the box he had been unpacking earlier. He smirked at her when he caught her eyes, still flushed and out of breath. 
And now she was sitting on the sofa, looking at the lit Christmas tree, with Dieter walking around, closing every window and door for the night before he came back to her, holding his hand out for her to take. 
They didn’t talk as he led her to their bedroom, closing the door behind him as she walked towards the bed. 
The thought that this could get awkward really quickly crossed her mind, but then Dieter was kissing her. Kissing her like he hadn’t before, his tongue playing with hers as he walked her towards the bed they had shared for weeks. 
He guided her onto the it, parting from her lips to look down at her as she slipped into the middle of the bed, her eyes undressing him and he smirked as he took his shirt off, loving the way Clara’s lips parted in appreciation 
Before he could talk himself out of it, he slipped the Santa shorts he was still wearing down his legs, leaving him standing completely naked in front of her. Clara’s eyes took him in before she got on her knees, crawling to the edge of the bed. 
She kissed up his chest, her fingertips running up this strong back, feeling him shiver. Dieter took a deep breath as his fingers found the fabric of the shirt she was still wearing, groaning once it was off and he could see her boobs.
„Fuck,“ he let his head fall back before he felt her hand in his hair, pulling him down against her lips. He wrapped his arms around her, wanting her closer, his hands exploring her body, one hand slipping beneath the leggings she was wearing. 
He would never get tired of feeling her skin beneath his fingertips. 
Dieter felt her lips twitch into a smile as he moaned, her fingers lightly scratching over his scalp. 
„Can I suck you cock baby?“ She asked and he nodded. 
„Never gotta ask. The answer will always be yes“ he grinned and she giggled as she began to kiss down his chest, one of her hand wrapping around his already leaking cock. 
„Noted,“ she hummed before she licked at the tip, making him almost jump. Her eyes never lost contact as she parted her lips and took him into her mouth, slowly, almost teasingly exploring every vein and ridge of his length. 
Dieter was pretty sure he was gonna die. 
Her mouth was heaven and when she began to bop her head? He had to try to remember the lines from the first play he was in to not cum immediately. 
And the noises she made? 
Fuck.
Clara felt the same, enjoying the weight of him in her mouth as she sucked him off, the moans that came out of his mouth going straight to her pussy. She loved the way he was holding her hair up, winking up at him. 
If only she had known how much she would enjoy having him moaning like that, she would have done this so much sooner. 
„Fuck… Stop… Stop or I’m gonna cum. And I wanna feel you first,“ he said, taking a step back, his cock falling out of her mouth. 
He helped her get out of her leggings before he pushed her down onto the bed, climbing onto it and kissing her. She parted her legs, crossing them behind his back when he was on top of her, loving the weight of him on her. 
She blindly searched for the package of condoms she had thrown onto her bedside table, humming when she found it. Dieter kissed down her jaw, her throat, kissing himself down towards her breasts, his lips closing around one of her nipples, his tongue playing it it. 
She whimpered, rolling her hips up, feeling the weight of his cock slipping through her folds. 
„Wanna eat your pussy,“ he mumbled against her skin and she shook her head. 
„Later. Wanna feel you first,“ she said, finally having one of the condoms out of the package holding it up. Dieter released her nipple with a wet plop as he sat himself up, reaching for the condom, opening the package. He made quick work of rolling it onto his cock. 
It was then that his eyes dropped between her legs, seeing her for the first time. He released almost a growl before he slipped one of his hands between her legs, his fingers slipping through her wet folds. 
She moaned when he brought his fingers to his lips to taste her. 
„Gonna have you for breakfast every day,“ he wiggled his brows and she chuckled. 
„Promises, promises,“ she teased, her foot behind him slowly dragging up his thigh, teasing him. 
„You’ll see,“ he winked before he got into position, his hand wrapped around his cock, teasing the tip of it through her folds, before he slowly pushed in. They both watched him enter her, slowly, Dieter wanting to give her time to get used to his thick length. 
„Fuck, Dieter,“ she whined and he looked up at her, her hands on her tits, eyes still fixed on where his cock was filling her. 
She finally looked up when he was fully inside of her, and then she smiled and he lost it, leaning down so his chest was against hers as he began to move. The first moan he heard from Clara as he thrusted almost enough to make him cum right then and there. 
Her hands where everywhere she could reach as he fucked her, and he made a mental note to have her ride him the next time so he could explore more of her. 
„You feel so good, Dee,“ she moaned „I’m so close already.“
„Me too, baby. What do you need? Want you to cum on my cock,“ he panted, still fucking her in deep strokes. 
Instead of answering, one of her hand sneaked down between her bodies, starting to circle her clit. 
And within minutes she came, clenching so hard around his length that within seconds after he came too, twitching inside of her as he spilled himself into the condom, only imagining how it would feel to fuck her without one. 
They looked at each other, both out of breath before he dropped down to kiss her, rolling her so she was on top of him, making her squeal against his lips before they both laughed. 
„I could really get used to this,“ she whispered against his lips. 
„I hope you do,“ he smiled, before he kissed her again. 
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The amount of time they spend in bed from that first time increased. A lot. Though it was not just the bed. It was the couch, the kitchen counter, the pool, the floor….
Clara couldn’t remember ever having this much sex, not that she was complaining. 
Dieter knew what he was doing and she loved to be on the receiving and of it.
It was Christmas Eve today and she was laying by the pool, naked as the day she was born as she watched Dieter, equally naked walking towards her from the ocean. 
Dieter had made the very compelling point that since they were the only two people on an island with no people and especially paparazzi around that he wanted to enjoy it as much as possible. 
Of course he had asked if Clara would be okay with him hanging around naked. When she took her clothes off as an answer he had fucked her against the floor. 
She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him now, skin tanned and glistening with ocean water as he made his way towards her. 
Fuck, she was one lucky woman. 
„Put those bedroom eyes away, you already have me naked,“ he teased as he leaned down to kiss her softly, his cold hands squeezing her boobs with a grin, making her jump. She put her arms around him, deepening the kiss and Dieter moaned as he let himself get on top of her, cock already half hard. 
„You taste like the ocean,“ she whispered against his lips with a smile and felt him grin before he slowly kissed down her body. 
„Rather taste like your pussy,“ he winked before he got in between her legs and began to eat her out. 
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She woke up to lips kissing up her back on Christmas morning. 
With a smile she turned on her back, finding Dieter resting with his head on one of his arms beside her, his other arm wrapped around her. 
„Merry Christmas, baby,“ he smiled and she smiled back tiredly. 
„Merry Christmas yourself,“ she whispered and he leaned in to kiss her softly. 
„I have something for you,“ he hummed and she raised her eyebrows, surprised. 
„You have?“ She asked and he nodded.
„Can I show you?“ He whispered and she nodded, letting him kiss her again before she let him led her out of bed.
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There were colours everywhere. 
When she arranged to set up this room for him so he could paint it was a beige sad little office. She had FaceTimed with the realtor who was responsible for renting the property out and giving instructions how to change the interior of the room and what supplies to get. 
Clara hadn’t seen the room in all the time they had been here. 
This room was… it was 100% Dieter. She knew he had spent a lot of time in here, she just never imagined that he had painted so much. 
And so many versions of herself. 
In all colours she could imagine. 
He had spend all this time painting her?
She was already fighting tears within the first minute of stepping inside the room, Dieter’s hand still in hers as he watched her. 
„This is… This is beautiful,“ she whispered softly before she finally looked at him. 
„Still not doing you justice,“ he said and now she felt her tears run down her cheeks, before she wrapped her arms around Dieter, hugging him closely. 
„I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, Dieter,“ she whispered when she looked up at him, his eyes softening as he looked down at her. 
„That’s good. Cause I know I’m in love with you,“ he whispered back before her kissed her. 
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One Year later
Dieter had a smile on his lips as he looked up at the canvas hanging in the bright and new hallway. It was one of the pieces he had painted on their island last year, the first one he hung up in their home after the renovations had finally been finished. 
The last year had come with a lot of changes. Not just because him and Clara had made the decision to part ways professionally, but because the reason was so they could start their life as a couple. 
They both had made this decision, Dieter not wanting her having to deal with everything that he came with anymore. 
Not that there was much to take care of now that he had quit acting. 
Much to his surprise he had gotten the Golden Globe and another Oscar for his last project, so what more was there left to do for him professionally?
The last thing he had to promote would be coming up in march of the next year and after that he was ready to never see a red carpet again. He still didn’t know exactly what he would be doing now that he wasn’t acting anymore, but thankfully the investments he made and the way he had worked for the last twenty-five years gave him the freedom to take his time to find out. 
And then there was Clara. 
He was almost disgustingly in love with her (his sister’s words, not his) and there would be no stopping. 
It had taken only six weeks after the island for both of them to make the decision to move in together. 
And to their pure luck, while scrolling through Zillow listings one night when he had visited her in New York they had found their dream home. 
He never thought he would move to the Hamptons one day, yet here he was, in a big country style house with a wrap around porch and a private beach, living with the love of his life. 
With a smile he made his way downstairs, finding Clara in the kitchen, checking on the process of the dinner. They had invited family and friends for their first Christmas in their house together who would arrive later. 
They had both taken cooking lessons together in the last two months since they moved in and she loved taking her time to cook with him every day now. 
„Hey,“ he smiled and she looked up, giving him a sweet smile back. She had her hair up in a messy bun and was wearing one of his shirts. No make up. She was absolutely breathtaking.
Dieter walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. 
„Hey,“ she smiled back, turning her head to kiss his cheek. 
„Guests will be here in an hour,“ he said and she nodded.
„Just wanted to check before I go upstairs to get ready,“ she said and he nodded. He kissed her cheek, watching her hum as she stirred the soup in front of her. 
It was in that moment that he decided that he didn’t want to wait any longer, that he didn’t want to share this moment with anyone else later. 
His hand searched for the small box he had been carrying around with him for the last six months, the ring he designed for her inside, Clara still focused on the food as he dropped to one knee behind her, He reached for her hand, as he took a deep breath, smiling at the surprised gasp escaping her lips as she turned around. 
She said yes before he could even ask his question. 
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pandapetals · 2 months ago
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Unexpected Visit
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It's your first Christmas with Logan as a couple (not married yet) but someone unexpected shows up.
professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, some fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair, mentions of death, angst, trauma, christmas mentioned, parent issues
a/n: I wrote this to go with the holiday special i’m going to post because i know alot of people struggle around the holiday season (myself included, not me trauma dumping in this).
read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here
divider credit: @enchanthings
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As a kid, you’d always heard that the holidays were supposed to be magical—a time filled with warmth, laughter, and gifts under the tree. But growing up in a family that could barely keep food on the table, magic was a luxury you quickly learned to live without. Reality had come crashing down on you at a young age, stripping away any illusions of the "holiday spirit."
Coming to Xavier’s offered you a fresh start and a chance to build a new and hopeful life. You’d thrown yourself into your role as the bubbly, witty English professor, always armed with a quick quip or a smile that could disarm even the grumpiest students. And for the most part, it worked. Everyone believed the cheerful façade—everyone except Logan.
Even before you started dating, Logan seemed to see through the mask you wore. He’d often watch you with that quiet, penetrating gaze like he was peeling back each layer you’d put up to hide the parts of yourself you didn’t want anyone to see. He never pushed or pried, but something in his eyes made you feel like he knew.
When you finally became a couple, that unspoken understanding between you deepened. But you still hadn’t told him the whole story of your past or the truth of what the holidays dredged up inside you. And so, as Christmas approached, you kept your walls up, pretending everything was fine, even though this would be your first Christmas without your dad.
A few days before Christmas, the mansion was buzzing with excitement as everyone packed and prepared to head home. Logan assumed you’d be leaving, too, and he figured you’d join your mother to mourn together. He’d never pushed you to talk about your family, but he knew enough to sense the fractured relationship with your mom.
Yet, as the days ticked by, you hadn’t mentioned any plans. He noticed your room was untouched, no suitcases packed or tickets booked. So, that evening, he found himself leaning against your bedroom door, watching you lace up your shoes with a distant look on your face.
“I thought you’d be packing by now,” he said, his voice low and casual, though his eyes held a flicker of concern.
You looked up, momentarily surprised by his presence, but quickly covered it with a smirk. “Packing for what? You finally planned a romantic getaway for us, tough guy?” you teased, trying to deflect with humor, as usual.
But Logan didn’t smile. His face softened, his arms crossing over his chest as he stepped into the room. “Sweetheart… I thought we talked about not pretending with each other.”
Your smirk faded, replaced by a look of resignation. For a moment, you looked down, fiddling with the laces on your shoes. “I’m not pretending,” you said softly, your voice lacking its usual bravado. “I just… I don’t want to go home for Christmas. There’s nothing to go home to.”
Logan’s brows knitted together, his voice gentle as he stepped closer. “You still have your mom—”
“Logan, stop.” The words came out sharper than you intended, and you stood up, wrapping your arms around yourself defensively. “I don’t… I don’t want to deal with her, okay? You met her at the hospital—she wasn’t exactly the nicest woman in the world.” Your voice wavered, the wall you’d tried so hard to keep up beginning to crumble. “You know my relationship with them—my parents was complicated.”
Tears started slipping down your cheeks before you could stop them, the weight of the year—of loss and complicated grief—finally surfacing. You tried to turn away, but Logan was already there, closing the distance between you in a few strides. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. His hands were steady, his touch warm and grounding as one hand cradled the back of your head, the other wrapping protectively around your waist.
He didn’t try to shush you or tell you it would be okay. Instead, he just held you, letting you fall apart in his arms. His thumb stroked the back of your neck gently, grounding you as he whispered, “It’s alright, darlin’. You don’t have to put on a brave face with me.”
You buried your face in his chest, letting yourself finally break down in a way you hadn’t let yourself do since your father passed. “I wanted so badly to be okay,” you choked out. “To just… move forward. But I don’t know how to do this, Logan. Holidays are supposed to be about family, but what do you do when… when you don’t have one anymore?”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hazel eyes filled with a mix of empathy and fierce protectiveness. “You’ve got family right here,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “You don’t need to go anywhere if you don’t want to. Stay here—with me.”
His words settled over you, a quiet promise that you weren’t alone, that you had someone who would stand by you, even when you didn’t know how to hold yourself together. The walls you’d put up felt paper-thin, and for once, you didn’t try to rebuild them. Instead, you leaned into him, letting the warmth of his presence melt away the loneliness that had been eating at you.
“Are you sure?” you whispered, looking up at him, your voice barely holding back the vulnerability in your heart. “You’d really want to spend Christmas with me? Even if it means cheesy movies and too much hot cocoa?”
Logan’s gaze softened, a gentle, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. He lifted his hand, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice rough but steady, “there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Besides…” He paused, a hint of a smirk appearing as he looked at you with that familiar, affectionate glint in his eyes. “I think we both deserve a damn celebration this year. Don’t you?”
A soft, shaky laugh slipped from your lips, the sound mingling with the quiet stillness around you. You clutched him a little tighter, pressing yourself against the solid warmth of his chest, letting the safety he offered melt away the lingering ache. For a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would be like—Christmas with Logan, a cozy fire, the two of you wrapped in blankets, sharing simple moments that felt like home.
You looked up at him, noticing the faint lines around his eyes and the way his gaze held something deeper and tender he didn’t share with just anyone. Logan, who had spent so many years keeping people at arm’s length, was here, with you, willing to make this season something special. You knew the holidays hadn’t ever meant much to him; the closest he’d come to family was the X-Men, but there was always that quiet yearning, that sense of longing in his eyes you could recognize as your own.
A mischievous smile crept onto your face as you tilted your head, running a finger along his jaw. “You know… for a grumpy, tough guy, you’re pretty soft.”
He chuckled, the sound low and genuine, vibrating through you as he wrapped his arms more securely around your waist. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and lingering there, his breath warm against your skin. “Only for you,” he murmured, his voice so soft it almost blended into the quiet around you as if the words were a secret meant just for you.
𓂃
The mansion felt eerily quiet, the sort of silence that settles in when everyone else has left and you're finally alone. The last of the students and teachers had headed off for their Christmas plans, leaving only you and Logan behind. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel the odd comfort in that—knowing that neither of you had a family to go home to, that somehow, you’d ended up here together. It almost felt like fate, like you’d been meant to find each other.
As Logan wandered back from the foyer, having just waved goodbye to Xavier, he looked at you sprawled across the couch, a playful smirk on his face. “Looks like it’s just you and me, sweetheart. What’s first on your holiday agenda?”
You grinned, half-sitting up. “Well, I doubt you’re up for decorating cookies or watching Christmas movies…” But before you could finish, Logan crossed the room in a few strides and scooped you up effortlessly.
“It’s not exactly the first thing on my mind,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
You laughed, giving him a light swat on the back as he threw you over his shoulder, carrying you with ease. “Logan, you’re acting like a teenager who finally got the house to himself.”
He grinned, undeterred, “Well, isn’t that what’s happening?”
He was halfway to the stairs, clearly intending to carry you all the way up, when the sudden chime of the doorbell echoed through the empty mansion, stopping him in his tracks.
You twisted around, trying to look over his shoulder. “Expecting someone?”
Logan set you back on your feet, frowning as he glanced toward the door. “Not that I know of,” he muttered, his expression already shifting to that familiar look of cautious alertness. He moved toward the foyer, and you followed close behind, almost colliding into his back when he stopped abruptly just a foot away from the door.
You noticed him take a deep breath, his nose twitching slightly as he caught a scent through the door. His expression shifted, the guarded edge softening just a bit. He turned back to you, his gaze gentle but wary.
“It’s… your mother,” he said quietly.
Your stomach dropped. “My—” The word caught in your throat as a wave of complicated emotions washed over you. You hadn’t seen her since your father’s funeral, and even then, the conversation had been brief, tense, and peppered with her usual backhanded comments.
Logan placed a steadying hand on your shoulder, searching your face. “You okay?”
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Yeah… yeah, I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting her to show up here.”
With a nod, Logan opened the door, and there she stood, wrapped in a heavy coat, her expression a mixture of displeasure and discomfort as she took in the mansion’s grand foyer.
“Well,” she said, her gaze sweeping over you with a critical eye before landing on Logan, her brow raising slightly. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you decided to stay here rather than come home.”
You forced a smile, though it felt brittle. “Nice to see you too, Mom.”
She glanced around the mansion, her lips pursed in that familiar way that meant she was about to say something judgmental. “This place is… large. Lavish. I imagine it must feel like a vacation for you.” Her tone dripped with the kind of passive-aggressive disapproval you’d grown up with, a reminder of every time she’d scolded you for wanting more than what you had.
Logan shifted beside you, his gaze hardening just a fraction as he observed the exchange. “Can we help you with somethin’?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with a protective undertone.
Your mother’s eyes flicked to him, a hint of surprise crossing her face. “You must be Logan. You know, I always thought my daughter would end up with someone… different.”
Logan’s jaw tightened, but he held his ground, giving her a steady, unflinching look. “Guess life doesn’t always turn out the way we expect,” he replied coolly, his arm subtly sliding around your waist, a quiet but unmistakable show of support.
You took a breath, steeling yourself. “Why are you here, Mom? I thought you knew I wasn’t coming home this year.”
She let out a heavy sigh, crossing her arms. “I came because I thought maybe you’d change your mind. It’s Christmas, after all. Family should be together.” Her gaze softened, but there was a flicker of resentment there, hidden just beneath the surface. “Though I see you’ve found… other company.”
“Mom, please,” you murmured, feeling Logan’s fingers gently squeeze your hip, grounding you. “I didn’t come home because it didn’t feel right. You know that things between us have been… complicated.” The words were careful, and a bit restrained, but you could feel the weight of the unsaid things pressing against your chest.
She scoffed lightly, waving her hand as if brushing off your feelings. “Complicated? You act like you were the only one who had it rough, but I was there too, you know. I did what I could.”
You swallowed, fighting the bitterness rising in your throat. “Did you? Because most of what I remember is you pretending everything was fine while I had to deal with… with everything else.” Your voice trembled slightly, but you steadied yourself, Logan’s presence beside you giving you strength.
There was a beat of silence, heavy and uncomfortable. Your mother looked away, a flash of guilt crossing her face, though she quickly masked it with a defensive huff. “I didn’t come here to argue,” she said tightly, her gaze darting between you and Logan. “I thought maybe you’d appreciate being with your real family for the holidays.”
Logan’s arm tightened around you protectively, his voice low but firm. “She is with her family,” he said, each word deliberate and unyielding.
Your mother’s eyes narrowed slightly, her lips pressed into a thin line as if weighing her next words carefully. Before she could respond, you gently placed a hand on Logan’s chest, signaling for him to let you handle it. He gave you a quiet nod, stepping back but lingering just out of sight. 
You took a breath, focusing on her. “Mom, I know you tried… in your own way. I don’t blame you for everything, and I know it wasn’t easy back then.” Your voice softened, a hint of vulnerability slipping through. “But this… this is where I want to be. With the people who make me feel safe, who understand me. Logan is a part of my life, and he’s not going anywhere.”
For a moment, something flickered in her gaze—regret, maybe, or the faintest trace of understanding. She looked away, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her purse as she took a shallow breath, pulling her mask back up. “Well,” she said finally, her voice cool but wavering. “Then I suppose this place has changed you.”
You felt a pang in your chest, a mixture of sadness and relief. “I’m still the same—”
“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. But her expression softened, and for the first time in years, you caught a glimpse of something real beneath her hardened exterior. “No, you aren’t. And that’s… that’s a good thing,” she admitted, her tone almost reluctant, but honest. “You seem… stronger. Happier. I can see that this place, being a teacher… it suits you.”
A soft, bittersweet smile tugged at your lips, the weight of years of complex emotions between you and your mother settling in your chest. “I am happy, Mom. I know this isn’t the life you imagined for me, but it’s what I want.”
She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, but the tension in her posture told you that accepting this wasn’t easy for her. The silence between you was heavy, lingering like words unsaid, regrets unspoken. You could feel the moment slipping away, but before it did, you took a chance, your voice soft and tentative.
“Would you… would you like to stay for dinner?” you asked, the invitation hanging in the air like a fragile hope. “Logan and I, we were just about to cook something together.”
Your mother’s expression tightened, her gaze flicking to the mansion’s grand interior, then back to you. She shook her head, her lips pressing into a faint, strained smile. “No, I don’t think so. I have a long drive back,” she replied, her tone polite but distant. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
You swallowed the disappointment, forcing a small nod. “Alright,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
Just then, Logan stepped back into the doorway, a touch of nervousness in his expression, though he masked it well. He extended his hand toward her, attempting to make a good impression, the slight unease in his eyes showing how much he cared about this moment—for your sake, if nothing else.
“It was see you again, ma’am,” he said, his voice gruff but genuine. “Your daughter… well, she’s one hell of a woman. Just thought you should know.”
Your mother glanced at his outstretched hand, hesitating for a split second before giving it a quick, almost dismissive shake. She offered him a tight-lipped smile, but there was no warmth behind it. “Yes, well,” she replied, her tone clipped. “You two… take care of each other.”
Logan’s jaw tightened slightly, but he kept his expression polite, not pushing for more. You could tell he was trying, in his own way, to bridge a gap that had been there long before he’d come into your life. But your mother’s gaze had already drifted past him, her focus elsewhere.
You watched as she adjusted her purse on her shoulder, giving you a final nod. “Goodbye,” she murmured, her voice softer, almost reluctant, but the wall between you both was firmly back in place.
“Goodbye, Mom,” you replied, feeling a pang of longing that you knew would remain unanswered.
When the door clicked shut behind her, the silence settled thick around you, the weight of unspoken words and lingering disappointment pressing down on your chest. You barely noticed Logan stepping closer until you felt his hand on your back, a gentle, grounding touch that anchored you in the moment.
“You okay?” he murmured, his voice soft, searching your face for any sign of the hurt you might be hiding.
You nodded, though your eyes stung with unshed tears. “Yeah… yeah, I’ll be fine,” you whispered, managing a shaky smile. “It’s just… complicated. It always has been.”
Logan wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, his chin resting on your head. “You don’t have to explain, darlin’,” he murmured, a comforting rumble against your hair. “I get it. And for what it’s worth, I’m here. I’m always here.”
You let out a soft, shaky breath, pressing your face into his chest, absorbing the warmth and strength he offered. “Thank you,” you whispered, feeling the weight begin to lift if only a little.
As he held you, Logan pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his fingers brushing through your hair. “She’s a fool if she can’t see how incredible you are,” he murmured, his tone laced with a quiet intensity. “But lucky for me, she’s leavin’ you in good hands.”
You laughed softly, a mix of relief and affection as you looked up at him, brushing a tear from your cheek. “I’m pretty lucky too, you know.”
Logan’s lips curved into a gentle smile, his thumb tracing your cheek in a tender gesture. “Guess that means we get our quiet Christmas after all,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes.
“Yeah,” you replied, feeling the weight of the past begin to ease, replaced by a warmth that only Logan seemed to bring. “Just you and me, tough guy.”
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tokkiwrites · 3 months ago
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𝚄𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚢 𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚗. (3)
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mom's fiancé! joel miller x f! reader part one • part two
Summary: Your mom's new fiancé, Joel Miller, is the kind of man you could never shake out of your mind—rugged, rough, and embodiment of your long-buried fantasies. He's been your next-door neighbor for years, and the crush you harbored through your teenage years never really faded. Now, he's with your mom, and they're planning to get married. You should want her to be happy, but you can't ignore the tension growing between you and Joel. It's something that was never meant to happen. But as you uncover Joel's true motives for being with your mom, you realize maybe your feelings weren't one-sided after all. And maybe, despite everything, you’re the one he really wants.
tags: stepcest kind of, age gap (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 40s), forbidden romance, emotional conflict, slow burn, sexual tension, complicated family dynamics, heartbreak, Joel being an emotionally complicated bastard, ANGST, cheating, infidelity, betrayal
/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ im baaack !! this has 4.06k words, so it's pretty short. It's pretty much a setup for the last two parts. yes, just two more parts. im sorry, but as much as i love this, it needs to end :( not proofread so try and ignore any typos. also most of the parts where the past story is told its the readers inner thoughts so YES she is trying to demonize her mom to make her feel better about sleeping w joel :') Enjoy!
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It had been two months since it all started—two months since you and Joel had fallen into this secret rhythm, stealing moments when your mother wasn’t looking, navigating your forbidden connection with practiced care. In the quiet, when it was just the two of you, it felt almost normal. Almost as if you were like any other couple. You were his, and he was yours—officially, if only in the shadows. But the shadows were where you lived now.
Tonight, it was just you and Joel again, the house quiet, tension building, like it always does when its just the two of you, without having spent a night together for some time. Your mom had gone out with her friends, drinking and catching up over dinner, while you waited at home, your pulse quickening the second you heard the sound of Joel’s footsteps as he came back from work. The door clicked softly as he came inside, the familiar creak of the floorboards beneath his boots sending a thrill up your spine. You didn’t need to say anything. You both knew what came next.
“Missed you, baby. my pretty girl...” Joel muttered low, his voice rougher in the quiet of the house. His fingers found your waist, pulling you close until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. Two months of this, and yet every touch still made your heart race, still left you aching for more. like the first time. “I missed you too,” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around his neck, sinking into the kiss that followed, as if nothing else existed outside of this room. You’d grown used to this dance—the quick, stolen moments, the silent promises that passed between you without words. It wasn’t enough, not by a long shot, but it was all you had, and you weren’t willing to let it go. Joel’s hands moved down your back, fingers gripping tightly as he deepened the kiss, and before you knew it, you were back in the same space, tangled in the sheets, limbs intertwined, the room bathed in a golden glow from the bedside lamp. He made you forget the outside world, the boundaries that separated you, the reality you both lived in.
The hours ticked by, the house settling into a quiet rhythm, when suddenly, a knock echoed from the front door, startling you both. Your head laying on his chest, fingers drawing small hearts on his skin. You sat up, heart pounding, your body still humming from the way Joel fucked you mere seconds ago. Joel frowned, pulling on his jeans as he stood, moving quietly to check the door. “Who the hell…” Joel muttered under his breath, his voice low as he moved down the hallway.
You followed him, grabbing a robe as you went, trying to calm the sudden rush of panic rising in your chest. There shouldn’t be anyone at the door. Your mother wasn’t due back for hours, and you hadn’t heard any cars pull up outside. Joel cracked the door open just a sliver, and there, standing in the darkened porch, was Marjorie. Your mother’s supposed best friend, her face illuminated by the porch light, a twisted smirk curling at the edges of her lips.
Your heart sank.
“Joel,” she greeted him, her voice dripping with something that felt far too dangerous for your liking. Her eyes flicked past him, landing on you standing behind him, the color draining from your face. She didn’t need to say anything to confirm what she already knew. It was written all over her face—the satisfaction, the power she held now. Marjorie stepped closer, her smirk widening. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” she said, her voice laced with amusement. “Your mom’s out, isn’t she? And here you two are, playing house.” Joel’s jaw clenched, his fingers gripping the edge of the door tighter. “What the fuck do you want, Marjorie?” he growled, his voice low, protective. Marjorie laughed softly, stepping forward, closer to the threshold. “Relax, Joel. I’m not here to spoil the fun. Yet.” Her eyes flicked to you again, sharp and knowing, as if seeing right through you. “I just wanted to… catch up. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
You felt your stomach twist. This wasn’t just about her catching you. There was something more. You could see it in the way she looked at Joel. so bitter. Had she been following you two? has she seen anything at the wedding? it's clear she already knew.
It hit you all at once—the stories your mom had told you about their past. Marjorie and Joel. They had been together once, years ago, long before you’d ever met him. And now, here she was, standing on your doorstep, holding your secret in her hands. “I could ruin you both, you know,” Marjorie continued, her tone casual, but the threat clear in her words. “Tell your mother everything. She deserves to know, doesn’t she? But…” She paused, her eyes narrowing. “We don’t have to go down that road. Not if you do exactly what I say.” You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. She wasn’t just going to tell your mom. She was going to use this. You could see it now, the leverage she had, the game she was about to play.
“What do you want?” Joel asked, his voice steady, but you could feel the tension radiating off him. Marjorie tilted her head, pretending to think. “Oh, nothing much. Just a little… cooperation.” She smiled, the same smile that had always made your skin crawl. “I’ll be in touch.”
And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving the two of you standing in the doorway, your secret hanging in the air like a ticking time bomb. You slammed the door shut behind her, your heart racing, your mind spinning. “What are we going to do?” you whispered, looking up at Joel, the fear clear in your voice. Joel didn’t answer right away. He just stared at the door, his jaw clenched tight, his hands still gripping the frame. After a moment, he turned to you, his expression softening, and he pulled you into his arms. “We’ll figure it out,” he murmured, his voice steady, but you could hear the worry underneath. “I’m not losing you.”
I could ruin you both, you know.
Joel’s hand was still resting on your back, his thumb brushing gently against your skin, but it wasn’t enough to calm the storm raging inside you. Marjorie knew. And now she held the keys to your entire world, dangling them just out of reach, ready to use them whenever it suited her best.
And your mom. the anger started to burn slowly, creeping in like a wave of heat under your skin. She was out with friends right now, laughing, drinking, celebrating her happiness, all the while oblivious to what was happening behind her back. With her husband. Your heart clenched at the thought of it. A marriage she didn’t even deserve.
Had she ever really deserved him?
The more you thought about it, the more it all made sense. The way your mom had paraded Joel around like some prize, showing him off to her friends— especially to Marjorie. You remembered now, how Marjorie had once had a fight with your mother, it seemed long ago, about her engagement to Joel. You remember Marjorie crying that day about how she had cared for him, how she had fallen in love with him, that what happened between them wasn't just a fling. And what did your mom do? She married him anyway. She married her best friend’s ex without a second thought. And now you were the one being threatened for it. The bitterness in your chest was growing, and you could feel it settling into something sharper, something more dangerous.
“She’s not gonna leave us alone, is she?” you finally asked, your voice quieter than you wanted it to be. You felt exposed, vulnerable. Joel sighed, his fingers tightening their hold on you, but there was no reassurance in his grip. He didn’t answer right away, and that silence said more than any words could have. He wasn’t sure either.
“I don’t know,” Joel finally muttered, running a hand through his hair, his eyes dark with the weight of it all. “But I’ll handle it. I’m not lettin’ her take this from us.”
"Were you really together, with her I meanㅡ seems like she still likes you very much.." you bite, and the man turns, looking at you with a furrowed etched into his face. "We were together like 10 years ago, for fuck's sake, sheㅡ I don't even know. I didn't know she was so close to your mom, never saw them together much..." does he feel pitty for her?
You wanted to believe him. You wanted to cling to that hope that somehow, some way, things would stay the same, and Marjorie would just disappear into the background. But you weren’t that naive. Not anymore. Not after seeing the look in Marjorie’s eyes—like she was waiting for the perfect moment to strike, to dig her claws in and rip everything apart. Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, cutting through the tense silence in the room. You jumped slightly, startled by the noise. When you picked it up, your stomach dropped.
• I hope you enjoyed tonight, sweetheart. Don’t worry. I won’t ruin your fun just yet. i care for my friends, unlike some.
it made you feel sick. She wasn’t done with you. You turned the phone toward Joel, showing him the text, and watched as his jaw tightened again, the muscle in his cheek twitching with barely restrained anger. “She’s not gonna stop, Joel." you whispered, more to yourself than to him. “She’s going to drag this out. Until she gets whatever she wants." Joel’s eyes darkened. “Not if I can help it,” he growled, voice thick with frustration. “But she’s not bluffin’. She ain't like that. We need to be careful.” The weight of his words hung heavy in the air between you. Careful. You had been careful. For two months, you had mastered the art of lying, sneaking, hiding your relationship from the world. And for what? To have it all crumble because of one bitter, jealous woman. But what did she want? What would it take for her to keep her mouth shut?
As if in answer to your question, another message buzzed through:
• It’s been lonely for me, you know, since your mom stole Joel. I think it’s only fair we share, don’t you? Maybe then I’ll keep quiet.
Your heart sank. She wasn’t even hiding it. She wanted him. She wanted Joel. She was dangling that threat over your head, practically daring you to make a choice. And for a moment, you felt nothing but cold, bitter hatred.
For her.
For your mother.
For the situation you had been pulled into.
“What does she want?” Joel asked, sensing the shift in your expression. You hesitated. Could you tell him? Could you even say it out loud? That this wasn’t just about telling your mom the truth. Marjorie was trying to take him from you in the most disgusting way possible.
You swallowed hard, the bile rising in your throat. “She wants you.” The words felt bitter on your tongue, like poison seeping through your veins. Joel’s expression hardened, anger flashing in his eyes as he pulled away, pacing the room. “That damn bitch" His voice trailed off, but you could feel the heat off of him, the barely restrained fury that rippled through his body. “She’s sick,” you said, sinking down onto the edge of the bed, your fingers gripping the sheets as you tried to steady yourself. The rage in your chest was building, mingling with the jealousy that was already there, a fire that wouldn’t stop growing. "But we're sick too for starting all of this."
Butㅡ
How had it come to this? How had your mother allowed someone like Marjorie to stay so close? She had known about their past. She had known Joel was once Marjorie’s. Best friends don’t do that. They don’t betray each other like that. But your mother had. So did she deserve all of this?
All of the resentment you had pushed down over the last few months—the jealousy, the anger—was bubbling to the surface. Your mother had always been selfish, hadn’t she? Always thinking about herself first. Sure, she acted like she cared about you, like she wanted the best for you, but it had always been her own happiness that came first. Even after the divorce, it was all about her—her search for the perfect man, her obsession with finding someone who would make her feel young and beautiful again.
And she had found him. Joel. A man who had never really been hers to begin with.
He is mine now.
The bitterness was sharper now, more pronounced. It wasn’t just about Marjorie anymore. It was about the way your mother had taken what didn’t belong to her, and now the whole thing was falling apart, crumbling around you. Maybe this was what she deserved. “I’m not letting Marjorie get what she wants,” you said, your voice firm, your mind made up. “I won’t let her touch you. She doesn’t deserve it.” Joel stopped pacing, his eyes locking on yours. “We’ll find a way outta this, baby. We’ll figure it out.”
But there was doubt in his voice. You could hear it. You could see it in the way his shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of the situation pressing down on him, on both of you. This was bigger than the two of you now. Marjorie wasn’t going to let this go, and the truth was, she had all the power. Still, you weren’t about to let her take Joel from you. Not after everything. Not when he was the only thing keeping you sane.
As the night stretched on, you lay together in silence, the darkness outside matching the heaviness in your chest. Joel’s arm was wrapped around you, but it wasn’t enough to keep the thoughts from swirling in your mind.
How long can we keep this up?
It wasn’t just Marjorie that made you feel this way—it was your mother too. The way she had always been the center of attention, the way she had stolen Joel knowingly from Marjorie. You hated her for it. And now, with Joel by your side, you realized you hated her even more for what she still didn’t know. She had done this. She had created this mess. And now, she was out with her friends, celebrating her perfect life, while you were left to pick up the pieces. She deserves this, doesn't she?
The days became an unbearable blur, each one bleeding into the next with that same dull, gnawing anxiety eating away at you. Marjorie's threat hung over you like a dark cloud, looming over every stolen glance, every whispered word exchanged between you and Joel. You couldn't escape the feeling of dread that clawed at your chest each time your phone buzzed. Every vibration rattled your nerves, setting off a wave of panic that crashed through your mind, sending your heart racing.
What if this was it? What if today was the day Marjorie made her move, the day everything fell apart?
For three agonizing days, you waited for the inevitable blow, for the moment she would pull the trigger and expose the fragile world you and Joel had built in secret. You could barely sleep, your mind racing, filled with endless scenarios, each more horrifying than the last. And through it all, Joel remained steady, his calm exterior masking the storm raging inside him. He tried to reassure you, to tell you that things would be okay, that you would figure it out together, but even he couldn't hide the worry in his eyes. Then, on the third day, the message came. It was short, sharp, and to the point, the words searing themselves into your brain as you stared at the screen in disbelief.
• Tonight. My place. Don’t keep me waiting.
Your stomach twisted into knots, a wave of nausea rising in your throat as you turned the phone toward Joel. He glanced at it, his face darkening, a deep frown etching itself into his features. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence in the room thick with tension. You could feel the dread creeping up your spine, wrapping itself around your heart like a vice, squeezing tighter and tighter with each passing second.
"She's gonna keep pushing until she gets what she wants," you whispered, your voice trembling with fear and barely-contained anger. You could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. Not yet. Not in front of Joel. He didn't respond immediately, his jaw tightening as he stared down at the floor, lost in thought. The lines on his face seemed deeper, etched with frustration and helplessness, and for a brief, terrifying moment, you wondered if there was anything he could do to fix this. If there was any way out.
Then, out of nowhere, the words tumbled from your lips, almost before you could stop them, a desperate attempt to break the silence, to grasp at any solution, no matter how insane.
"What if we kill her?" The question lingered in the air, absurd and reckless, and you weren't even sure why you'd said it, or what kind of response you were hoping for. But the words had left your mouth before you could pull them back. For a moment, Joel just stared at you, his brow furrowing in shock, as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. His lips parted slightly, his gaze flickering with confusion, before the tension broke, and suddenly, inexplicably, he started to laugh.
It was a quiet, breathy chuckle at first, one that caught you completely off guard. "What the—what?" Joel’s voice cracked with amusement, his eyes softening as he shook his head. "Baby, what the fuck, no," he said, still chuckling as he reached out to cup your face, his rough thumb brushing gently across your cheek. You wanted to be mad at him for laughing, for finding humor in this moment of utter despair, but the sound of his voice—his warmth—made it impossible. Even in the midst of this chaos, his touch had the power to calm the storm inside you, if only for a second.
"This is no time for jokes..." you muttered, your voice cracking, though the bitterness in your words faded the moment his thumb stroked your skin again, grounding you in the present. Joel chuckled softly, pressing his forehead against yours, his laughter slowly fading as his expression turned serious again. "We ain't killin' nobody, sweetheart," he said quietly, his voice firm but gentle. "That's not how we fix this."
You exhaled a shaky breath, nodding slightly, though the frustration still gnawed at you. It wasn’t like you’d actually meant it. The suggestion had been a fleeting, desperate thought, a reflection of just how cornered you felt by Marjorie’s relentless threats. But it felt like there were no real options left, and that sense of helplessness was eating away at you, pulling you deeper into a spiral of panic. "Then what?" you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "What do we do? Because I can't... I can't keep living like this. I can't keep looking over my shoulder, waiting for her to tear us apart. I don’t know how much longer I can take it."
Your hands were trembling, your fingers digging into the fabric of Joel's shirt as you clung to him, desperate for some sense of stability. You looked up at him, pleading silently for him to offer you some kind of solution—any solution that didn’t involve losing him. But Joel’s face softened with concern, his eyes flickering with sadness as he tilted his head slightly, as if searching for the right words.
"Let’s... let’s run away," you blurted out, the words tumbling out in a rush before you could second-guess yourself. "You said you wanted to—wanted to run away with me. You promised me, Joel. You said we could leave all of this behind, give me a baby, start over somewhere new where nobody would find us. Was that all a lie? Did you even mean any of it?" Your voice cracked, and this time you couldn't stop the tears from welling in your eyes, your chest tightening with the flood of emotions.
Joel's eyes widened, and he looked taken aback by the sudden outburst, his hands gripping your shoulders as if trying to steady you. "Shit, baby, I—" he started, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. Panic surged through you, your heart pounding in your chest as doubt clawed its way to the surface. Was this all just some fleeting fantasy for him? Something he had whispered in the heat of the moment, a promise he never intended to keep? The thought terrified you, the idea that Joel— your Joel, might not feel as deeply as you did.
"So you lied to me," you snapped, your voice rising as anger and hurt bled into every word. "You don’t love me, do you? You never meant any of it!"
Joel’s face twisted with anguish, his hands coming up to cradle your face, his voice urgent as he tried to stop the storm that was building inside you. "What? No—baby, don’t say that. I love you, I swear to God, I love you more than I can even say." He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath shaky as his fingers tightened their hold on you. "But we can't just run away from this, not yet. I want to—God, you have no idea how much I want to—but we have to fix this first. We can't leave things this way."
You swallowed hard, the tears now flowing freely down your cheeks, and Joel reached up to brush them away, his lips pressing softly against your forehead as he spoke again, his voice filled with tenderness. "I promise you, baby, after we fix this—after we figure out a way to make this right—we’ll go. We’ll run away, just like I said. We’ll find some quiet little town, far away from all of this. We'll have our own little house, just you and me... and our family. We'll make that life, I swear to you."
He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own gaze filled with determination and something softer—something that made your heart ache with longing. "You have to believe me," he whispered, his thumb brushing over your lips. "We’ll have everything, baby, but we need to be smart about this."
You blinked back the remaining tears, nodding as you tried to steady your breathing, your heart still racing but calmer now that you could see the sincerity in his eyes. "But what if we can’t fix it?" you asked, your voice small and trembling. "What if—"
"No," Joel cut you off, his voice firm but gentle. "Don’t think like that. We’re gonna fix this. I’ll make sure of it." You wanted to believe him. You wanted so badly to cling to the hope that everything would turn out okay in the end, that you and Joel would find a way to be together without the constant threat of Marjorie, or your mom. But the fear still lingered, a shadow that refused to disappear no matter how many promises Joel made.
"I need you to be strong for me, baby," Joel whispered, his hand gently cupping the back of your head, pulling you against his chest. "I need you to be my strong little girl, okay? Can you do that for me?"
His voice was soft, soothing, and you melted into his touch, nodding against his chest as the tension slowly ebbed away. "I’m your st-strong girl," you mumbled through your sniffles, your fingers gripping his shirt as you held on to him. "I love you.. so m-much.."
"I know you do, sweet thing," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I love you too. More than you know."
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